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chilling-seavey · 4 years ago

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Seasons Change (d.s.) - Cover Me Up

A/N Before I actually start writing this new story, I decided to write this blurb as a sort of pre-prologue. The events in this blurb do directly affect the events in the full story but you do not need to read this in order to read the main fic. Also, please follow the link in bio to add yourself to the taglist for this universe if you wish (unless you selected ‘tag for everything’!)

Summary: Daniel doesn’t want to leave his wife’s bedside. Not when she needs him most.

Warnings: This blurb deals with terminal illnesses, death of loved ones, grief etc.

Title inspired by Cover Me Up by Morgan Wallen

November 15, 2019

The house was quiet. It was usual now to find the silence that rested over the floorboards somewhat peaceful in the air of the small rural town. It was peaceful but it carried the weight of a thousand tonnes over the beams of the roof and the joists of the walls. In a sense, the peaceful quiet was almost suffocating.

With a six-year-old boy, an aspiring hockey player with rambunctious little personality in his small body, it was hard to find moments of quiet. But it felt like over previous month and a half, quiet was the only option. Even the little boy knew this well.

He would come home from school on the bright yellow school bus and run down the long dirt driveway to the white paneled farmhouse near the centre of the property, small Jack Russel Terrier running right beside him the whole way. His backpack bouncing over the material of his navy blue jacket and the tread of his sneakers on the thin gravel seemed to be the only sound in the tiny town.

Despite his obvious eager intent to run home at top speed, he would stop at the garden and pick one of the few flowers remaining before taking the front steps cautiously. He would then stop at the front door and take a breath before reaching for the handle and stepping inside. Daniel, who had been watching the clock like every weekday in the afternoon, was already at the front door when his son came home. He made sure the dog was inside before closing the door behind them and he helped his son to take his backpack off for him.

“How was school, spud?” Daniel asked quietly.

Everything was quiet.

“Good.”

Was always the response; quickly followed by a hopeful,

“How’s Mama?”

“Resting. You can go say hello if you like. Wash your hands first.” Daniel took his son’s jacket and shoes and then watched him hurry up the straight flight of stairs to the second floor. The six-year-old turned right at the top into the main bathroom and he heard the tap turn on.

With the school things tucked away in the front closet, Daniel headed back upstairs too and stepped into the master bedroom to the left of the stairs right behind his son.

“There’s my boy.” a soft voice greeted from the queen size bed just around the corner from the door as the little one climbed up onto the soft mattress.

Daniel leaned on the corner of the wall and watched the mother greet her son with the best smile she could offer him. Marigold was always like that; always smiling. She was rested back against a few down filled pillows under the cream coloured quilt and brushed her son’s messy brown hair out of his eyes.

“How was school, my darling boy?” she asked him like she did every weekday afternoon.

“Good.”

Was always the response. He held out the flower to her with his mother’s same smile.

“I picked you a flower, Mama.”

“Well, aren’t you as sweet as sugar?” Marigold tisked with a smile and took it from him to give it a little sniff. “Just like your Daddy, aren’t you, Lennox Blake?”

Six-year-old Lennox was just as in love with his mother as his father was and every time he looked at her, little hearts nearly floated in his light blue eyes.

“Are you better, Mama?” Lennox asked, like every day.

Marigold held his face in her hand that wasn’t taken by the small flower, “Not yet, sweet boy. I think I need some more of your magical hugs to see if that will help.”

Lennox grinned and nodded, shifting closer quickly.

“Gently, spud.” Daniel reminded softly from where he stood watching.

“He’s okay.” Marigold assured her husband softly, welcoming her son’s small body on top of hers with a smile and a slightly strained sigh. She twirled her fingers through his messy hair and kissed the top of his head, “I missed you so much today.”

Daniel walked around to her side of the bed and picked up her still-filled water glass before leaning down to kiss her dry lips, “Want me to put your pretty flower in a vase for you?”

Lennox smiled proudly at the offer and Marigold agreed with a small smile, holding out the small flower to her husband to take downstairs. With two hands free, she could hold her little boy more securely now and drew those little patterns over his back that he always liked, watching her melancholy husband leave to put the flower in a little glass of water for her and to start dinner preparation, petting the cat sleeping on the end of the bed on his way past.

Marigold didn’t know what she would have done if she didn’t have Daniel. She was a young woman of twenty-seven, in love with her high school sweetheart, and happened to be served the worst of life in the prior month and a half. Despite her diagnosis, he didn’t falter for a moment; he tended to her day in and day out as she got sicker and still treated her just as sweetly as he had on their very first date. She was the love of his life. What else was he supposed to do?

With Lennox upstairs telling Marigold all about his day, Daniel hurried around the kitchen to make dinner. He decided on a simple vegetable soup – something easy…he hated being too far from Marigold for too long – and set the three bowls on a tray with the flower in a glass of water with them. He set the tray on the top of the dresser in the master bedroom and helped to get Lennox sitting up in the middle of the bed with a pillow helping to prop him up before he passed him the half-filled bowl and a spoon.

“What do you say?” Marigold whispered.

Lennox smiled cheekily up at his father, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re very welcome, spud.” Daniel replied with a half smile.

He took his own bowl off the tray and set it to the side so he could bring the last one over to his wife. She glanced up at him silently as he set the tray over her lap. Their eyes lingered on each other’s for a moment as if they were having a silent conversation just the two of them as their son ate quietly beside them.

“Still not hungry?” Daniel asked ever so quietly.

Marigold shook her head gently.

Daniel hesitated for a moment but nodded and exchanged a kiss for the tray back. He set it on the dresser and set his own bowl beside the other before joining his little family on the bed. He wasn’t hungry either.

With Lennox eating contently between his parents, they watched him peacefully, Daniel’s arm draped around him and his fingers twirling the end of Marigold’s long hair through his fingers. They raised their little boy with the best manners so being able to eat in a bed and not at a table was quite exciting for Lennox. To the six-year-old, his mother simply had a cold and needed to stay in bed until she got better. He still saw the smiles she gave him and the warmth of her hugs and even though the house was quieter than it once was, he was sure it would be lively again.

After dinner, Daniel got Lennox bathed and dressed into pyjamas and sat him on the floor of the master bedroom to watch some TV before bed. With the boy distracted, Daniel tended to his wife; shifting the pillows behind her to have her resting down a bit more and felt her forehead for any sign of a fever. He picked up the chapstick from the bedside table and popped off the cap to apply a layer or two to her dry lips. Marigold watched him quietly, his furrowed brows and solemn blue eyes and careful steady hand that traced her familiar lips.

“You’re going to give yourself wrinkles, my sweet.” Marigold whispered with an ever so light chuckle, reaching up a dainty hand to smooth the creases between his eyebrows. “Don’t want to age that pretty face of yours too soon now.”

Daniel only stared at her for a moment, still leaned in close from having applied her well used chapstick and he offered a weak shrug and a dull, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Daniel.” Marigold sighed quietly.

“I’m sorry.” Daniel mumbled, bowing his head for a moment. He leaned in again, kissing her lips twice and then her nose once and her cheek before standing up straight and put the chapstick away. She smiled faintly at him and reached up a careful hand to dust over the thin material of his white button-up that was rolled to the elbows. It was open and he had a white tank top on underneath tucked into black jeans. She liked him like that; casual and effortlessly handsome.

The TV played on quietly in the background and Lennox sat on the rug with the family dog sleeping his head on his lap. The six-year-old adored the pup…he truly was this boy’s best friend. Marigold smiled lovingly across the room at her unaware boy, his brown hair plastered wet over his head and he sat slouched slightly on the floor as he watched his evening show. Daniel brought the dishes downstairs and tidied up the kitchen a little before returning to his family and switched off the TV.

“Daaad.” Lennox whined.

“Come on….story time with Mommy.” Daniel said softly, picking up the puppy from his lap so his son could climb back on the bed.

Lennox crawled up next to her and plopped himself down and pulled the quilt over his small legs. Marigold smiled and tucked her arm around her son so he was cuddled right up close to her side. With the hand that wasn’t holding the dog, Daniel passed over their favourite storybook to read – well, at least Marigold’s favourite. She bought it within the first month she found out she was pregnant, far too excited, and I Love You Forever sat front and center on the bookshelf in the nursery for all of Lennox’s young life. She had read it to him so much the spine was creased and a few pages a couple rips along the edges but they didn’t mind.

Daniel sat down with them and the dog curled himself up beside the cat the end of the bed while the family of three cuddled up together for a bedtime story. Marigold read quietly, her voice fading as the story came to an end and she coughed lightly as she closed the book gently. Lennox smiled up at her.

“One more?” he asked sweetly.

“No, no. It’s bedtime, sweet boy.” Marigold chuckled, pressing a kiss to his head.

Lennox nodded obediently.

She smiled gently at him and pet her hand over his damp hair, “I love you.”

“I love you this much!” Lennox threw out his arms wide, almost hitting Daniel in the face.

Marigold laughed weakly at their son and took his small hand in hers to pull him close and he cuddled up against her chest. She looked down at him and his tired blue eyes that were already starting to close from just being in her arms. She brushed her finger along his chubby cheek and gave it a little squish, “I love you more than all the flowers in the garden…and all the buggies in the fields…and all the leaves on the trees…”

With the little boy fading in his mother’s arms, it was time for bed. Marigold gave her son one last good night kiss to his soft cheek.

“Sweet dreams, my darling boy.”

Daniel scooped him up and Lennox gave her a sleepy wave from his father’s shoulder before he was carried down the hall to bed, the puppy rushing after them. His nightlight was switched on and Daniel made sure to tuck him nice and secure under his quilt like every night and the dog was left on his small pillow under the window. The book was placed back on the shelf and Daniel brought over Lennox’s favourite stuffed bear to cuddle with and tucked it in his arms.

He crouched down at his son’s bedside and brushed his large hand over Lennox’s small head, keeping his hair back from his face. Lennox blinked sleepily at him, cuddled up with his teddy bear.

“I love you.” the little boy yawned.

“I love you, spud.” Daniel whispered. He leaned in to kiss his head before standing up, “Sweet dreams.”

The door was shut behind him and Daniel lingered in the hallway for a moment. The window at the end of the hall sent streaks of moonlight over the hardwood and Daniel hadn’t even realized the sun had set. Days were blending into each other, hours were passing by too quickly, and Daniel felt like his life was dwindling right before his eyes. He could try to catch it – try to reach out and grasp what time he had left but it was inevitable. It was terminal.

Daniel returned to the master bedroom and closed the door behind him as to not wake his son. It wasn’t like there was going to be much noise at all in the silent house but it was habit. Marigold smiled tiredly at him from their bed and he walked around to her side to pet a hand through her hair. She leaned into his touch.

“Do you want a bath, sunshine?” Daniel asked softly.

Marigold just blinked tiredly up at him, her cheek resting heavily in the palm of his hand, “No, thank you.”

“Can I wash your face at least?”

“If you insist.”

Daniel stepped into the ensuite and ran a sink of lukewarm water to dampen a facecloth. He returned to her bedside and sat down with her to wipe her face gently with the cloth to help her feel somewhat put together. He usually helped her bathe every second day – every day if she was feeling up for it – and changed the sheets as often as he could to keep her fresh and comfortable. He was a good man.

Marigold’s face was wiped clean the best it could be by her husband’s gentle hand. He sat back from her and she rested her hand on his arm.

“Thank you.”

Daniel set his hand over hers, “What else can I get you, sunshine?”

Marigold thought for a moment and she sighed, “I think have to pee.”

Daniel nodded and stood up from the side of the bed to drop the facecloth back in the ensuite. He gently peeled back the quilt and the sheets and made sure her nightgown was down around her knees before sliding his hands around her back and helped to sit her up. She clung onto him weakly and he slowly shifted her legs off the side of the bed.

“Can you stand?” Daniel asked softly.

“Think so.” Marigold whispered. She held onto his arms as he helped to ease her up out of bed.

When she was standing, mostly using him to lean on as he held her up, Daniel noticed the wet patch in the bed.

His pause had her sighing, “It happened again?”

“Yeah.” Daniel said. “I’ll change the sheets.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Mari.” Daniel pulled over the usual wooden chair to her bedside and helped to ease her into it. It was one from the kitchen table but over the prior month or so it found its usual home in the corner of the master bedroom, only usually used by Daniel to sit with his wife as often as he could. With her sitting, he shooed the cat off the bed and worked quickly to strip the bed and change the padding on the mattress that was recommended by the doctors. He grabbed the extra sheets from the linen closet in the hallway and worked quickly to remake the bed for her.

Marigold watched him, her brows furrowed lightly as if in thought. She spoke quietly, “Is Lennox home from school yet?”

Daniel didn’t look up as he tucked the corner of the sheets under the mattress and answered his wife softly, “Yeah. He’s already in bed.”

Marigold nodded weakly.

When the bed was remade, he took an extra nightgown and pair of comfortable underwear from the dresser drawer for her and set them on the bed so he could change her out of her damp clothes. She raised her arms the best she could and Daniel shimmied her nightgown over her head and dropped it to the floor before carefully easing her out of her soiled underwear. They stayed silent as he re-dressed her and Marigold clung onto him as he shifted her hips to get her underwear up her legs and as he pulled her fresh white nightgown over her head and made sure her hair was out of the neckline. He pressed his palm to her forehead to feel her temperature. She seemed fine.

Daniel held her arms in his hands and eased her up out of the wooden chair. They stood chest to chest, Marigold having to look up at him slightly, and they just stared at each other for a moment. Illness seemed to age her from her twenty-six years, but she was still the same sweet young woman Daniel fell in love with across the high school gymnasium. He raised one hand to her cheek and brushed his thumb over her skin.

“Will you dance with me, Mari?” he asked ever so softly, caressing her cheek with the back of his finger.

“Dance with you?” she chuckled tiredly. “I can try.”

Daniel smiled lightly and led her around from the side of the bed to the center of their room, making sure she took each step carefully. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and opened the music app to select their song. The gentle guitar melody filled the room and Daniel set the phone on the fireplace mantle to give him two hands free. Despite her pain, Marigold was smiling at him, letting him raise her arms to his shoulders and he wrapped his right around her waist to help hold her up.

“You okay?” he whispered behind the introductory music.

She nodded and she pursed out her lips to get him to dip down and kiss her. As the lyrics started, she rested her tired head on his shoulder and let him lead, rocking them back and forth slowly in place in the middle of their bedroom by moonlight. She was almost limp in his arms although she tried her best to move with him, her bare feet shuffling slightly underneath her as they swayed.

So girl, leave your boots by the bed,

We ain't leaving this room

'Til someone needs medical help

Or the magnolias bloom

It's cold in this house and I ain't going out to chop wood

So cover me up and know you're enough

To use me for good

They danced often; usually Marigold would insist and drag Daniel away from whatever he was doing to have a quick dance in the kitchen or in the garden whenever the music from the radio hit her. Daniel wasn’t much of a dancer but there was something about Marigold’s contagious dimpled grin that always convinced him.

She truly was his sunshine, always dancing or singing or smiling whenever she could…the light of his life. Her spark was in their son too with her same smile and ability to pull Daniel from his shell. Lennox was the perfect mix of both of them and it broke their hearts that trying for a second baby was the beginning of the end. They had years worth of plans; things to do and places to visit and songs to dance to. They were each other’s person…just with not enough time.

Marigold’s hands tightened on the back of Daniel’s shirt, eyes falling closed as she let the music move them slowly around the rug of their room. He held her up, one arm around her waist and the other petting her hair as he let his breaths fall calmly against her neck, listening to the gentle song and the words that spoke too close to his heart.

Daniel whispered them to her, “But home was a dream, one that I'd never seen, 'til you came along”

So girl, hang your dress out to dry

We ain't leaving this room

'Til Percy Priest breaks open wide

And the river runs through

And carries this house on its stones

Like a piece of driftwood

So cover me up and know you're enough

To use me for good

“Dani.”

He paused their dancing for a moment as the quiet music played on from the mantle and glanced down at his wife, “What is it, Mari?”

“I’m…” she struggled to take a breath, “I’m really tired.”

“Okay, sunshine, I got you.” Daniel whispered and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He crouched down ever so slightly to lift her up in his arms, carrying her slowly back to bed as she kept her hands around his neck.

You knew it was serious when Marigold asked to stop dancing.

He laid her in bed as the song played on in the background and tucked the blankets up around her. He pressed a hand to her forehead and then to her cheek when he found her a little cold.

“Do you want the fire on?”

“Yes please.” Marigold whispered, blinking tiredly up at him. “And a sweater?”

Daniel let the song play through as he knelt down in front of the fireplace across the rom and took a few pieces of chopped wood from the basket next to it to light a fire. With a match lit and tossed in, the kindling caught flame easily and soon the room was filling with comfortable heat and a warm glow. Daniel returned to his wife’s bedside with one of his hoodies in hand and helped slide her arms into it and tucked it around her thin body before he sat himself down in the wooden chair as the song ended and the room fell back into perfect silence.

Marigold’s smaller and frailer hands fit into both of Daniel’s larger ones with ease and he rubbed his thumbs over her dry skin, his fingers callused from years of farm work, hockey practice, and guitar. His skin was rough but all too familiar and Marigold smiled weakly up at him from where she laid in bed. The moonlight that shone brighter through their bedroom window at the back of the house illuminated her thin face with the warm light of her bedside table lamp and Daniel stared at her silently. Their nights consisted of that now; lingering eye contact and hand holding, as if they hadn’t had enough of each other over the last eight years.

Her hair didn’t shimmer beautiful blonde like it used to, in fact, her whole appearance felt faded. It almost was as if she was from an old movie, drowned out in sepia and black and white until her tones and shades were as plain as the cream coloured sheets she laid in. The pillows were covered in tangled waves of her long hair and Daniel brushed the strands from her face with a gentle touch before raising her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Marigold’s dry lips fought to smile slightly at him and she ran her finger over his wedding ring that was set on his left hand.

“What are you smiling at?” Daniel asked softly.

“You.” she answered with ease. “My sweet Daniel.”

He kissed her hand again, letting his lips linger there a moment longer before resting his cheek down. Her fingers were cold against his flushed face and he just held her there to try and keep her warm, staring up at her.

“I love you.” Daniel whispered.

“I love you so much.” Marigold breathed.

She inhaled a little, struggling to catch her breath for a moment, and Daniel kissed her fingers one by one before resting them against his cheek again. They didn’t speak for a moment, just staring at each other with nothing but heartache adoration. It was as if they both knew.

Marigold weakly traced the shape of Daniel’s hands as he simply kept his eyes on her pale face, humming the tune to their song. Each line and callous over his skin was home to her touch, the veins on the back of his hand and the ring on his finger were part of her too. Daniel swore Marigold lived in him since they had their first kiss in the back of his pickup truck all those years ago. She was a part of his body, his heart, and his soul.

He sat with her as the minutes ticked by and the moon rose higher in the dark night sky, carefully watching each of her shallow shuttering inhales and rocky exhales. His soft voice filled their bedroom, singing to her quietly through the night. Midnight came and went and Daniel didn’t move from the chair at her bedside, his heart racing in his chest and his voice quivering slightly as he sang to her. His head rested down on her stomach and she weakly brushed her fingers through his sun-kissed brown hair. He could hear her heartbeat with his ear pressed to her body and it was slow and faint. His lyrics faltered for a moment and he sat up from her again.

“Marigold.” Daniel breathed.

She licked her dry lips and her cold hand fell into his, offering him a weak, “What is it, my sweet?”

“Mari…I…” Daniel’s blue eyes brimmed with tears but he didn’t dare let a single one fall.

Not when she was laying in front of him with death on her shoulder.

Daniel took a deep breath, “I…I don’t know what to do.”

Marigold nodded gently, her own light eyes brimming with tears, and she linked her pinky with his, “I know.”

He rested his elbows on his knees and held her hand in his against his lips, “I love you so much.”

“I’ve loved you enough for five lifetimes.” Marigold whispered.

He waited with her. He sat at her bedside and held her hands and sang to her quietly and let the minutes tick by, only praying for more. More moments to see her smile, more seconds to hear her laugh, more minutes to feel the soil softened texture of her skin. Time was slipping from him. Time was a landslide and he watched the world fade from the bright eyes of the love of his life day by day. He could hold onto her as tightly as he could but there was no mercy to be spared. His one true love was dying. And there was nothing he could do to save her.

Her breathing was starting to rattle slightly and her chest shuttered with each inhale. Daniel sang to her quietly, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek before holding both her hands in his. Marigold had tears in her eyes and she trembled sightly, not tearing her eyes from her husband.

“I got you.” Daniel whispered, shuffling closer to her bedside so she could feel more of his presence. “I’m right here.”

He held her hands and sang their song quietly to her as her breathing slowed and she grew weaker. The fire crackled soothingly from across the room and the moon shone brightly through the window overlooking the star sprinkled garden.

It was quarter to three am when Marigold’s chest fell still.

Daniel’s whispered singing faded out as his eyes dropped to her hand falling limp in his. He looked back up at her face, her eyes half closed and focused on him but unmoving.

“Mari?” Daniel breathed, giving her hand a little squeeze.

She was unresponsive.

“M-Marigold?” his voice broke.

The house was quiet. Far more quiet than Daniel was used to.

Daniel’s next breath ached his chest, burned his throat, and broke his heart. He lifted up Marigold’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her cold skin. At least they had their last dance.

He swallowed back his tears desperately, trying to convince himself that it was expected and he had the last month and a half to prepare…but how can you truly prepare to become a widow? Daniel pulled his phone from his pocket as he stood up from the chair and stood by the window overlooking the darkened gardens of their acreage as he dialled the funeral home as told. It was closed at barely 3am so Daniel left a message. When the line beeped, he couldn’t find his words for a moment.

Saying it out loud made it real.

“Hi this is Daniel…Daniel Seavey…it’s around 3am…” he checked the time, “2:49am…and…I was told to call when my wife…when…when my wife…”

Daniel looked back towards the bed and forced himself to breathe before focussing back out the window into the darkness.

“…when she passed.” Daniel swallowed thickly and bowed his head. “Give me a call when you open and come to…retrieve her…I’ll…I’ll meet you at the door. Thanks.”

Daniel hung up and slid his phone back in his pocket and leaned his forehead against the cool window with a trembling sigh. He had promised Marigold many times since her diagnosis that he would be brave for her and no shut down but holy shit he felt like his heart was shattering right out of his chest. He took a moment to breathe, to try and keep his emotions at bay which wasn’t easy especially being sleep deprived and exhausted, but forced himself to face the bed again. Marigold laid still.

Daniel walked over and tucked her arms under the blankets and brushed her long hair out of her face. She looked like she was sleeping if it wasn’t for the pale complexion of her face and the cool touch of her skin.

The house was perfectly quiet as Daniel stepped out into the hallway and took the stairs slowly but surly. He fed the cat and started the laundry and busied himself in the silence that rang in his ears. He felt like he was dreaming, floating, gliding around the house as he turned off the lights and locked the front door but left the porch light on for the funeral directors to arrive after sunrise.

Daniel found himself in the doorway of his son’s room, watching the six-year-old sleep soundly and peacefully, unbothered by the world. He had thought about it for the last month or so; how he was going to tell Lennox that his mother died and was never coming back. That would be one of the hardest things Daniel would ever have to do in his life.

With Lennox left sleeping, Daniel closed the door again and returned to his own room. He smothered the fire and closed the curtains and busied himself with getting changed into his pyjamas. He only really made it halfway: sliding on a pair of plaid lounge pants and shrugging off his button up before his body physically couldn’t hold back anymore. His sudden sob startled him and Daniel pressed a hand to his mouth to keep from possibly waking his son in the next room.

He turned off the bedroom lights and climbed into bed through his blurring tears and shuffled up close to his wife. She was cold and limp but he was heartbroken and all he wanted to do was hold her one last time. So Daniel curled his arm around her waist and nuzzled his face in her neck to try and encompass himself in the familiarity of her. His tears dripped down his cheeks and into the soft fabric of his hoodie that she still wore and he clung onto the material and cried until he was sure he was drowning in his tears.

With his son asleep peacefully nearby, Daniel forced himself into silence; weeping and whimpering through strangled gasps that he smothered into the shoulder of his sweater, wrapped around his wife. He knew it wasn’t his fault and that there was nothing he could have done differently to save her, but he still cried out a pathetic, “I’m sorry” into her neck, stroking her hair and almost hoping to will her back to life.

The farmhouse was quiet, their property was quiet, and the entire small town of Lincoln seemed to be perfectly silent as the minutes ticked by, the hours blended into each other, and Daniel cried the orange sun above the horizon. The small yellow marigold flower sat wilted in the cup on the nightstand.

Seasons Change Taglist: @jonahlovescoffee @stuffofseaveyy @randomlimelightxxx @hiya-its-amber @hopinglimelight @midnightpsychic @sbrewer21

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#🌼#daniel seavey #why dont we #why dont we fanfic #why dont we imagines #daniel seavey fanfic #daniel seavey imagines #writing

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jawritter · 4 years ago

Text

Twelve Days Of Christmas

Chapter 3

Summary: Dean never realized that Y/N missed Christmas until he turned off an annoying Christmas song on the radio on the way home from a hunt, now he will make it his personal mission to give her the Christmas he misses so much, and if he plays his cards right, maybe he will give her what he has wanted to give her for so many years, himself.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo

Square Field: Sleigh Ride

Word Count: 1760

Warnings: Hint of anxiety issues, fluff, fluff, and more tooth rotting fluff.

A/N: This is to help me catch up on my SPN Christmas Bingo card lol Chapter 4 will post tomorrow! I knew chapter will post every day until Christmas! I know I’m insane lol. This is a real time fic collection and all mistakes will be my own! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy these!!

**SERIES MASTERLIST** **MASTERLIST** **BECOME A PATREON**

The last thing you remember from the night before was falling asleep wrapped up in Dean’s arms in the Dean cave. Normally you weren’t one to fall asleep during movie night, but it also wasn’t normal for Dean to be that cuddly either, and you were apparently a lot more worn down from the hunt than you thought you were, not to mention your little self inflicted melt down over Christmas. Your anxiety tended to hit at the world's worst time and take a whole lot out of you when it did, yesterday was no exception.

When you woke up this morning you were tucked safely in your bed, and you knew you didn’t wake up to get there on your own, meaning Dean must have carried you there and tucked you in after you had fallen asleep. That thought alone made you smile. Dean cared about you enough to carry you in there, and tuck you into your bed after you had fallen asleep on him. No man had ever done that for you before, and you swear your heart grew three sizes in your chest.

You had always harbored feelings for Dean, but never allowed yourself to think that they could possibly be reciprocated by the famous Winchester. He was a warrior, a hero, and you were just lucky he allowed you into his little band of misfits to hunt with them, and gave you home when you met him years ago hunting a nest of Vampires in Illinois.

You climb out of bed, not bothering to change out of your pajamas Dean had bought for you the night before, and made your way into the kitchen in search of coffee. You were surprised to find Dean standing next to the coffee pot with a cup in hand, fully dressed, showered, and ready for the day; normally Dean was a bit of a late sleeper.

“Morning,” he said brightly, as if he’d been up waiting for hours, quickly grabbing a mug for you and filling it with coffee before you could even cross the floor.

“Morning,” you tell him with a smile as you take the steaming mug from him, and make your way over to the table to sit down. “What’s got you up so early?” you asked him, and he chuckles as he sits to work on your breakfast.

“Early? Sweetheart it’s almost noon,” he says without even turning around to face you, cracking an egg over the pan in front of him. “I was starting to think you were going to skip today and just stay in bed. I was a little hurt that I didn’t get an invitation,” he played as he pulled bacon from the pack and added it to the pan in front of him with the eggs.

You blush at his antics and hide behind your coffee cup as Sam comes striding into the room, a book in hand, and a cup of to refill with coffee in another. He didn’t so much as give the two of you a second glance as he refilled his coffee up and started to track back out to the library with his nose firmly implanted in a book. Dean watched his brother as he gave the bacon on final flip and plated up your food before rolling his eyes and turning to you, shaking his head as he delivered your breakfast to you.

“Boy’s lucky he found Eileen, if not I don’t think he’d ever get laid,” he grumbles as he takes a seat across from you and you stifle the laugh that threatens to fall from your lips with a mouth full of bacon.

“Leave him be,” you scold, and Dean’s eyes sparkle a little with mischief when he playfully runs his foot across your under the table. Was he really playing footsie with you?

You clear your throat, and decide to just play along without saying anything and you swear you saw a victory smirk cross his gorgeous face.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” you asked him, expecting some smart ass answer like porn, or some slasher marathon he’d planned since there was no case, and so much snow had fallen the night before it wasn’t like anyone wanted to get out in it anyway to actually work.

“You and I are gonna go downtown, so hurry up and eat your breakfast so you can get dressed,” he said excitedly, and you give him a confused look.

“Downtown? It was a snow storm last night? Can we even get downtown?” you asked him in confusion, but he seemed thoroughly unfazed.

“It stopped snowing hours ago, and the snow plows have already came through and cleared the roads, the sun's out, and it’s really not that bad out there, so hurry up Y/N/N!”

He looked so much like an over excited child that you couldn’t say no to that face even if you wanted too. You quickly finish your meal and dress in your room before meeting Dean in the garage where he’d gone to warm up Baby for you so that you wouldn’t be cold when you got into the car.

You don’t know where this new, thoughtfully sweet, Dean came from but you weren’t complaining. Dean had never wanted to spend this much time with you before, and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

“What are we doing downtown Dean?” you asked him as the car moved ever closer to Dean’s destination, his fingers were drumming alone to the classic rock song that was filtering through the speakers, and he was humming in a way you had only heard him do about a handful of times. He looked, happy? It was rare that Dean ever looked happy. It was a nice chance.

“You're about to find out,” he said with a smirk, pointing ahead of him, at the side road where a fully decked out horse driven sleigh was waiting, children flocking around the animal as the handler let them each have a turn petting it’s short main. Your mouth fell open in utter shock and disbelief at the sight before you, and you couldn’t deny that the little girl in you was squealing with delight at the sight before you as Dean parks Baby safely on the side of the street.

“Dean! Are you serious?!”

You were all but bouncing up and down in the seat and Dean was chuckling at your excitement as his bright green eyes watched you, an emotion filling them you couldn’t understand in that moment.

“Serious as a heart attack baby girl, I’ve already got us booked for a ride, in fact they're waiting on us now,” he said, getting out of the car and making his way around to pull you from the passenger side.

You were still in so much shock that you all you could do was smile like an idiot as he laced his fingers with yours, and made his way over to the sleigh, shopping to let you pet the horse for a moment before helping you into it, following close behind you and draping the blanket they provided over your lap so that you wouldn’t get cold.

The young man that was standing next to the horse climbed up behind the reins and took off slowly, making his way through a heavily decorated part of town, and through the little orchard that set just outside the park, snow making them limbs of the trees heavy and everything bright like winter wonderland as your eyes traveled around the scene before you. It looked like something out of a cheesy Hallmark movie, but you wouldn’t trade this experience for the world. Dean's eyes barley left your face, watching you as you looked around with a childlike amusement.

“Dean, how did you even find out they were doing this?” you asked him as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close to him to help keep you warm. Your heart fluttered around in your chest at the simple little act, and damn he smelt like Heaven.

“I saw it on the news, and I remember you saying how much you loved horses, so I figured it was something you would like to do,” he said simply with a shrug, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, and those eye crinkles you loved so much coming out to play. “I thought this would be the perfect day 11.”

“I love it De, thank you for thinking of me,” you tell him, letting your head rest against his shoulder as the landscape passed along by you like a beautiful, moving portrait.

“I always think of you Y/N,” he said, and you blushed deeply at his little revelation, looking up into his forest green eyes as he stared down into your own. You watched as his eyes traveled from your lips to your eyes again, and for just a second you thought he was going to kiss you.

Just before the electric pull between the two of you became irresistible he pulled back a little, and you could have kicked yourself for thinking this was anything but plutonic. You didn’t have a chance to sulk about it before his free hand reached over and laced with yours, quickly making the moment all too intimate again, his lips kissing the top of your forehead and making your heart leap in your chest.

“You just wait to see what I have planned for day ten,” he chuckled as the sleigh started to make its way back to the starting point, and you started to question him, but something in his eyes just said he wanted to surprise you, so you wouldn’t spoil this for him either.

“You know you don’t have to do this Dean,” you tell him earnestly, and he smiles warmly down at you as the ride comes to an end, and he helps you down, leading you towards the little hot chocolate stand that was set up close by.

“I want too, Y/N/N, you deserve this, and I’m going to make this a Christmas you will never forget, trust me.”

Your mind and heart fluttered with possibilities and excitement that you hadn’t felt in years, but more importantly you were pretty sure you were falling in love with this green eyed God of a man, and hoped that it didn’t put a damper on the holiday fun he had planned for the two of you.

Forever Tags:

@deandreamernp

@forgetthisbull

@miraclesoflove

@deanwanddamons

@rvgrsbrns

@chevyharvelle

@onethirstyunicorn

@i-love-superhero

@lyss-dw79

@magssteenkamp

@lemondropirwin

@squirrelnotsam

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@defenderrosetyler

@screechingartisancashbailiff

@thecreatiivecorner

@vicmc624

@busy-bee-angel-misska

@justanotherwinchester

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@idksupernatural

@lyarr24

@amandamdiehl

@miraclesoflove

@emoryhemsworth

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel

@softsebastian

@tatted-trina6

@anaelsbrunette

@hayleeharling

@flamencodiva

@coldmuffinbanditshoe

@dirty-pan-goblin

@itmejado

@supernatural3002

@teresa-67

@thoughts-and-funnies

@hearteyes-j2

@miss-nerd95

@writers-whirlwind

@peaches007

@bobbie3939

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@akshi8278

@love-jackles-37-blog

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@bobbie3939

Twelve Days Of Christmas Tag List:

@440mxs-wife

#Dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spnchristmasbingo #dean winchester x you #x reader inserts #dean winchester fanfciton #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester series #dean x reader #dean x you #dean series #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series #jensen ackles

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kabura-maru · 5 years ago

Text

Another installment of Various Pillar headcanons + drabbles! Once again these are my personal opinions, of course with some help of friends.

What headcanons should be next?

—

Cuddles || Various Pillars x Reader

“How do they cuddle? What are their preferences?”

—

Muichirou

@brinthie

Most cuddly when he’s in a daydreaming state. Likes to be the little spoon so he can rest his head on your lap to gaze up at you or the clouds or rest his head on your chest to hear your heartbeat. Quite good cuddler, always manages to be comfortable despite whatever position they’re in.

“Much to Muichirou’s irritation, the unrelenting pitter patter of rain roused him from his thoughts. The day was dreary, the rain ruining the Mist Hashira’s hopes of laying under the sakura tree just outside his home. The one thing saving him from the gloom, however, was [Y/n]’s soft embrace.

He laid against the girl on the tatami matted floor, trying to focus on the sound of her heart. The rain spoiled it, though, loudly tapping away at the roof.

“Mui, you seem vexed...” [Y/n] observed, her whisper barely louder than the rain

“The rain is spoiling it all.” He huffed without thought “promise we’ll still cuddle when it stops.”

Sanemi

Most cuddly in the evening when he’s alone with his s/o. Absentmindedly plays with his s/o’s hair or the hem of your clothing. Too headstrong to ask for cuddles outright or admit he likes it but he loves holding his s/o close. Probably holds you tight in fear of losing you. Definitely gets flustered and defensive if someone stumbles across them.

Sanemi had been acting particularly huffy ever since the sun began to set. Much more so than usual.

“Nemi? What’s up?” [Y/n] called to him, taking her attention away from the house chores she had previously been doing.

The woman recognized her lover’s not-at-all-well-hidden pout and smiled softly at him. She pushed her things aside and made her way over to the grumpy man who had refused to answer her with anything more than a passive grunt.

“Nemi!!!” She cooed, snaking her arms around the man and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Sanemi was overjoyed by her understanding, though didn’t let more than a soft smile creep onto his features as he pulled [Y/n] closer. She was so warm and loving. He felt unbelievably lucky to have her.

Shinobu

Most cuddly in cold weather or when their s/o is upset. Will tease them if they ask her for cuddles but will give in after awhile. Definitely the type to draw patterns on her s/o’s back or caress her gently. Probably holds hands too. Usually big spoon but can be either.

Shinobu had spent the last 15 minutes teasing [Y/n] with faint loving touches, though never giving into the girl’s pleas.

“Come here!” [Y/n] cried, trying once more to snatch the woman away from her duties

“So needy!” Shinobu chided in return, only sparing her lover a quick glance.

[Y/n] pouted, sighing in defeat. Shinobu giggled, unable to help but feel she won the silent battle. The Insect Hashira quietly put her work away before ducking in beside her lover.

“I suppose we cuddle for a few minutes.” She giggled, snaking an arm around the girl.

Mitsuri

LIVES for cuddles, aka always cuddly. Really likes to hold her s/o close when they’re falling asleep. Definitely initiates it most often but will respect s/o’s boundaries if they’re not very touchy. Lots of little kisses, giggles, and loving looks. Though, she’s totally a blanket hog after she falls asleep.

[Y/n] awoke with a stir, the cold night air greeting her limbs with a harsh bite. The woman turned to her lover, Mitsuri, who’s limbs tangled with her own. Of course she had snatched almost every inch of the blanket.

[Y/n] couldn’t help but let out a loving sigh before attempting to tug back some of the covers for herself. She wasn’t particularly successful, though the warmth of Mitsuri’s touch was enough.

Kyojuro

Like Mitsuri, Kyojuro is down to cuddle at any time, though sleeping is probably his favorite time. Definitely big spoon and insists on his s/o using him like a pillow, even if it causes his arm to fall asleep! He has a tendency to prioritize his partner’s comfort in terms of position, though he loves holding her close. He enjoys feeling like he’s protecting you and keeping you safe.

The world was silent as Kyojuro and [Y/n] cuddled on their engawa. The Flame Pillar had insisted on his lover using him like a pillow, though she didn’t need much convincing.

She loved the silent moments they shared. Although never spoken aloud, they were both filled with such obvious love for each other. [Y/n] would snuggle closer to Kyo’s warmth with every chill the breeze brought, and Kyojuro would brush [Y/n]’s hair from her face any time the strands threatened to obscure her view.

Both of them couldn’t be more content if they tried.

Iguro

At first he’s pretty hesitant about cuddles, not doing much more than holding his s/o’s hand or snaking an arm around her waist while she rests her head on his shoulder. After his partner is asleep he’ll pull her closer... often even cradling her in his arms. After they’ve been in a relationship for a long time, he isn’t afraid to be super affectionate, though preferably with just the two of them.

Once the Serpent Hashira had safely deduced his lover to be asleep, he carefully pulled her closer. Minutes ago she had only been resting against his shoulder, but now he had positioned her gently in his lap.

The man softly nuzzled into [Y/n]’s hair, finding comfort in her sweet scent and soft breaths. He smiled inwardly, allowing himself to indulge in her warmth, dozing off not long later.

Giyuu

Doesn’t often initiate cuddles, he doesn’t really know how. Most cuddly when he returns from a mission. He likes to cradle his s/o and cherish the warmth she brings him. Likely a bit hesitant to wrapping her in a full embrace, he doesn’t want to hurt you after all... though when he gets over his self loathing and accepts her love, he holds her close and tight, though not enough to hurt. He wants to protect his s/o with everything he has and never let her go. Also, let him be the little spoon sometimes please...

Giyuu had only just returned from his latest mission, but such hadn’t stopped him from beelining straight into [Y/n]’s arms. The woman hadn’t expected him to return so soon, but welcomed him nonetheless with a surprised smile.

The man wordlessly draped himself over his lover’s shoulders, and she couldn’t help but softly pet his raven locks as they tickled the side of her face.

“I missed you.” He murmured into the crook of her neck, savouring her sweet scent

“Oh Giyuu, I missed you too.” She replied, gently spinning on her heel to engulf the Water Hashira in a proper hug

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hunnybadgerv · 4 years ago

Note

Also for Nyx/Kaidan: Koi No Yokan: The feeling upon meeting someone that falling in love with them is inevitable

Summary: Kaidan loses himself in the memory of the night he and Nyx met, the night before the Normandy shipped out on a shakedown cruise that turned out to be anything but.

a/n: Based on a prompt from @theoriginalladya: for Nyx/Kaidan: Koi No Yokan: The feeling upon meeting someone that falling in love with them is inevitable

Link to AO3

Koi No Yokan

Kaidan brushed the hair off Nyx’s forehead, watching her sleep. She’d come down to the starboard observation after she filed the mission brief for command. They felt like firefighters, rushing across the galaxy and once they got one problem doused another three would pop back up. The perpetual cycle of run and gun was more intense than even the chase for Saren. He sighed, a tired sound even to his ears, and pressed his fingers across his brow. He lowered his gaze to the woman sleeping in his lap.

He could still remember it, the first time he heard her voice. The music and lights pulsing around them had made her question almost inaudible. He’d answered without even looking up at her. Of course, if he had noticed how gorgeous she was he probably wouldn’t have been been able to say a damn thing to her. And while they still would have served on the Normandy together, he doubted things between then would have played out the same.

Knowing himself as well as he did, he could all but guarantee that he wouldn’t have allowed himself to develop an attraction to her if one hadn’t already been firmly in place. He would have known her. They might have even been friends, but would either of them have stepped over that line if they hadn’t inched up to the edge of something more intimate that night?

Glancing down at her face again, soft and peaceful with sleep, he couldn’t imagine not loving her. Even if he tried not to, and he had. He let his fingers trace lightly over her hair. A smirk pulled at his lips when he remembered how much he’d wanted to touch it that night. He’d have taken her home in a hot second if she hadn’t walked away while the cops were interviewing him.

Shockingly, she’d read him like a book that night. And he was just enchanted. He still couldn’t explain why he followed her out of that club. That had never been his style. He was never that kind of man, then she inspired a lot of new behavior in him since she sat down next to him. They shared drinks and small talk. There was nothing in those few hours that explained his not wanting to let her leave.

“You look very serious.”

Kaidan startled at the sound of her voice. He looked back down at her and smiled, while still petting her hair. “I was thinking.”

“Mmhmm. That much I could tell.” She turned her head and guided his hand to her lips for a soft kiss.

He brushed his thumb over her lips and got another quick peck.

“Not going to share?” she asked.

“Not going to ask?” he parried.

“Okay. I’ll bite.” Nyx shook her head and sat up, only enough to lean against him and brush the tip of her nose against his. “What were you thinking about?”

“The night this stunning blonde sat next to me in a bar.”

“Oh?” Her voice had that sing-song tone it took on when she was being playful, but he could tell that she wasn’t expecting that answer.

“Yeah. She was hunting down this particular brand of rum.”

“Sounds like an odd one.”

“That’s for sure,” he agreed.

Nyx’s eyes widened and she swatted him on the shoulder. Before she could shift away more than a few inches, he draped his arm around her ribs and pulled her closer. The tip of his nose brushed against hers.

“Very flirty, too,” he told her.

“Really?”

Kaidan nodded at her. “Bought me a round and managed to talk me into trying her brand of rum.”

“Oh wow! That’s shocking?” She feigned surprise, but her smile still lit her eyes.

“I know.”

Nyx traced the edge of his collar with her fingertips, blinking at him softly.

He lifted one brow. “I followed her out of the bar.”

She gasped. “Stalker.”

Kaidan laughed and pulled her into his lap. “That was never my style. I’m still not sure why I did that.”

“You just couldn’t get enough,” she chided.

He curled his fingers in her loose hair. “Maybe.”

“What do you think prompted it?”

“I don’t know.” He studied her blue eyes. “Perhaps I just knew.”

“Knew what?” she teased, draping her arm over his shoulder. Her fingers teased at the hair above his ear.

“That I would fall in love with you.”

She smiled at him.

“What else could it be?” he asked. “It is not like I would have been the first Marine you took home. And instead of treating me like some crazy stalker, you were still flirting, even with the cops standing right there.” He watched his hand smooth over her thigh, then glanced back up at her. “You should have laid me out when you realized I was following you.”

Nyx grimaced. “I was pretty confident that I could take you.”

“Oh, really?” Kaidan challenged, tickling her ribs. She nearly rolled off his lap with a giggle. “That the only reason?”

“I thought you were pretty and sweet,” she told him, still threading her fingers through the salt and pepper hair at her temples. “And you seemed like a nice guy. Too nice for me to sleep with the night before putting out when my whole career felt like it had been derailed.”

“So, there was more?”

Nyx shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“But?”

“At the time I told myself I didn’t want to do that to you, but I think it might have been more that I didn’t want to do it to me. Didn’t want to like you and have a one night stand with you.”

He couldn’t bite back the grin. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Kaidan admitted. “Then I saw you on the ship.”

Laughing, she laid her head on his shoulder.

“And it didn’t go away. Just got worse, got stronger.”

She caressed his neck, listening to him.

“I fell irreparably in love with you on that cruise.”

“You’re not the only one.” She pressed her hand over his chest. Her finger caught on one of his buttons and she lifted her head to look up at him again. “So, are you thinking we were destined for one another?”

“Can’t say it’s not the case.” Kaidan held her a little tighter.

“Never really believed in fate,” Nyx admitted.

“I never put all that much stock in it either. Then I followed you out of a club, ended up under your command, and found my way back into your orbit over and over again.”

“Luck, fate, destiny, coincidence,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t think any of that matters.”

Kaidan nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, pinching her chin and kissing her softly. “All that matters is that I love you. That and you need more than an hour’s sleep.”

Nyx chuckled as he continued to place soft pecks on her mouth as he spoke. “Combat naps are my specialty. I’m fine.”

“Let’s ask Chakwas.”

“Let’s not,” she replied. “You win.”

“Finally,” he teased, kissing her hard.

Nyx slipped off his lap and pulled him to his feet. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Don’t you worry,” he chuckled. Kaidan wrapped his arms around her as they walked out of the Obs. While she held onto his waist, he pressed gentle kisses to her cheek, her temple, and into her hair as they waited on the lift that would carry them upstairs.

The why didn’t matter, he knew. That they had each other … that meant everything.

#Mass Effect Fanfiction #Nyx Shepard #Kaidan Alenko #Shenko #Mass Effect #Badger Scribbles #Fluff #Reminiscing #Being Silly #Guardians in the Darkness #theoriginalladya

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aethelar · 5 years ago

Text

Look, Graves is a hot guy. He’s not being conceited, he’s not being arrogant, he’s just not being blind either. He’s fit, in both senses of the word, his skin’s been clear for at least a year now, his fashion sense is cute as fuck. Queenie has reliably informed him that he made the top ten in last month’s Best ass on campus poll. He’s turned three people down for dates and he’s not even finished his first term at uni yet.

So clearly, Graves is hot. Subjectively, objectively, all genders agree. This here is a fine specimen of humanity, and it even has dimples when it smiles.

“Hey,” he says, flashing the dimples in question at the cute guy from the floor below.

“Uh, morning,” the cute guy says, and walks straight past him.

Graves blinks. It’s seven in the evening. Also, what.

“Newt, right?” he tries a week later. “Queenie said you and Tina were neighbours.”

“Yeah,” Newt says, nodding absentmindedly and attempting to ingest a pencil. He starts, suddenly registering Graves’ presence, and scrambles to push his mountain of text books aside. “Sorry, let me - shit, sorry -”

Graves catches the mug before it meets its untimely demise on the floor. “No worries,” he says, smiling again. Full dimple and everything. He holds out his other hand for Newt to shake, angling his shoulders slightly for maximum effect. “I’m Graves, Queenie and I share physics lectures.”

The shoulders have no effect. The handshake has no effect. The bedroom eyes so bloody obvious Graves is going to need eyedrops to keep up with them have no effect.

I mean, they have an effect on Graves because he’s now actually talking to the guy he’s crushing on, but that’s a) a given and b) not helping.

“Your coffee’s cold,” he says in a last ditch attempt to flirt. “I’ll get you another one.”

“Uh,” Newt replies, tilting his head in owlish confusion. “It’s tea, and you don’t have to, but, thanks?”

“Tea,” Graves confirms, and pulls out his phone on the way to the counter.

is tinas newt friend straight????

Newt? Zoology Newt in the room next door?

ye newt

Hang on.

She says no. She also says she’ll spike your drink with hydrochloric acid if you hurt him and bury your remains in a rose garden for fertiliser.

queenie your sister is not ok

An hour and half later Graves has to go for a lecture. He’s learnt that Newt is an awkward but earnest conversationalist, that his brother sends him snapchats of the family dogs at least once a day, and that Newt fell in love with a swan when he was six years old because it knocked him over and stole an entire bag of birdseed from his pocket.

He’s also learnt that Newt is apparently immune to all flirting. No reactions. Zilch. Nada. Nothing. Maybe he should take a leaf out of the swan’s book and throw Newt to the ground, see if that got any better results.

(Not like that brain we have a lecture to focus on, look Gaussian surfaces aren’t they fascinating fuck)

Three weeks later and Graves is resigned. He and Newt have progressed to friends, which is delightful and makes for an easy hanging out group with Tina and Queenie - and, recently, Queenie’s new potential boyfriend - but it’s also a form of torture because Newt is literally right there and Graves is dying he hasn’t crushed this hard since he was fifteen and first learnt he was gay but he can’t do anything about his damn crush because Newt has shown all the reciprocity of a tree. A cute, knitwear clad tree, but also a platonic and just-a-friend knitwear clad tree.

“Yes, but did you actually tell him?” Queenie presses.

He levels an unimpressed stare at her. “I walked past him in a towel on the way to the showers. He waved at me. I’m pretty certain he’s not interested.”

“Oh.” She pats his shoulder in commiseration and tips another shot of rum into his cuba libre. “Wait, aren’t your showers upstairs? How did you walk past him?”

He taps his nose - near his nose, shit, how strong are these things - and grins. “All’s fair in love and war,” he says with the sage wisdom of the truly sloshed. Then, “Queenie, it’s love and war. Queenie. Queenie I think I love him.”

“Yes,” she says. “But did you tell him?”

Graves hiccoughs in sad denial and slides off his chair to lie on the floor.

Graves of the morning after, the Graves with the hangover, he kicks off the blanket Queenie had draped over him and curls into a tight ball and decides, fuck it, if Newt wants to be his friend rather than his boyfriend then Graves is going to be the best damn friend Newt could ever ask for. He’s honoured to be Newt’s friend because Newt is a fucking gift. Anyone should be honoured to be Newt’s friend. He makes the world a better place when he laughs and he loves llamas and oversized knit cardigans and he forwards the particularly cute screenshots of his dogs to Graves because he’s the actual sweetest human being on the planet and fuck, Graves is so gone for this man.

One. He will allow himself one morning to mope. Then he’ll be the best damn friend Newt ever had.

Moping for Graves involves old sweats, sugary coffee, an asmr track of rain and lightning sounds (except quiet because headache) and a run. He likes running. He gets to clear his head and zone out and not think for a while, and the back streets down to the river are quiet at this time of day. Morning. By the time he’s paused on a bench to breathe and unstick his hoody from the sweat down his back he’s seen two other people, four pigeons and a cat.

“Hey,” he says to the cat, smiling his dimple-smile at it and holding out his hand. The cat pads closer, sniffing curiously before rubbing its head against his fingers.

“Hello handsome,” he laughs, tilting to scritch behind its ears. “Aren’t you a purry one? Look at you, you’re gorgeous. Is that your tail? Yes it is, it’s your tail, the fluffiest tail and it’s all yours.”

“Oh,” someone says softly, and Graves looks up to find Newt staring back at him with wide eyes and an absolutely flaming blush.

What. Graves has been flirting for weeks. Wearing nothing but a towel for frick’s sake and now Newt notices? When Graves is sweaty, hasn’t showered, not got any makeup on - oh god his hair is up in a bun isn’t it, it’s in a greasy lopsided bun please someone strike him down now why did he think it was a good idea to leave his room today.

“You like cats?” Newt says, gesturing at the tabby that Graves is still petting.

“Yeah,” Graves croaks. This is fine. He’s fine. He’s still going to be the best damn friend Newt ever had, he can survive this.

“Oh,” Newt repeats, still blushing. He sits down on the bench next to Graves and the cat leaps up between them, butting against his elbow for attention. “I like cats too,” he says and smiles up at Graves through his fringe.

“Guh,” Graves says like the intelligent and functioning person he is, and no, he’s not going to survive this. “You’re not straight,” he then announces like an absolute tool and hastens to add, “I am not straight too. Either. I am neither straight. I mean, I’m gay.”

Dear god.

Newt ducks his head and runs an awkward hand through his hair. He’s paired his traditional warm knit with a black and yellow scarf and it’s adorable. The scarf is thick and tasselled and the static from it is making Newt’s curls frizz out at the back where they rub against it. This is not relevant to the story but it’s relevant to Graves’ mental state and therefore worth describing.

“I’m not straight,” he agrees. The tops of his ears are red and he has many freckles. Also relevant to Graves’ mental state. “Is this your way of asking me out?”

Graves licks his lips. The cat walks across his thighs and starts kneading at his knee with its claws. “What would you say if it was?”

“There’s a cat cafe in town,” Newt mumbles into the scarf that has now swallowed the majority of his face. Graves would think that the scarf was making him mishear, except no, his ears are so attuned to Newt right now he could pick up radio signals from Mars if Newt was the one sending them.

The cat sits, half on and half off his lap. He takes a breath. “Newt,” he says. “Will you go on a date with me to the cat cafe in town?”

“Now?” Newt squeaks.

“Uh. I’m, uh.” Wearing baggy leggings. With a messy bun. In dire need of a shower and/or an entire stick of deodorant. Graves gestures helplessly at himself and wonders if it would count against him if he pointed any of these things out. He amends the gesture to restrict itself to the cat. “She’s comfy?”

Newt somehow buries himself further in his scarf and mumbles something that sounds like oh my god. “Yes,” he says when he emerges. “To the date.” He darts a sideways glance at Graves and the way Graves is stroking the cat on autopilot. “I’m free whenever. And, you know, probably whenever tomorrow as well, if, if that’s a thing you also want.” He smiles, with his eyes crinkling at the corners and his hair floofed up and his scarf creeping up to cover his ears and his freckles and his face and his cute.

Newt is a gift and Graves is going to be the best damn boyfriend he could ever ask for.

#gramander #newt scamander #percival graves #the university au #in which newt is shockingly oblivious #SHOCKINGLY #and graves somehow wins him over by being too much of a softie to say no to a cat #also featuring a side cameo of graves and queenie being best friends again #because this is a friendship i will fight for #fight i tell you #my writing

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avionvadion · 4 years ago

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I’m making progress you guys I swear 😭 Here’s some little snippets.

Inuyasha: Forest Deep: Chapter 24 Preview (WIP)

“I’m not sure.” Shippō stated, furrowing his brows. He pat Kirara on the neck. “Do you smell ‘em anywhere?”

She opened her mouth and let out a tiny roar of what I could only assume was confirmation, because she eventually made her way to the front of the hut and then pushed her way passed the hanging door. I instantly flinched at the sunlight that invaded my eyelids, having been locked up for so long, and I hissed- bringing a hand over my eyes. “Eugh, I hate it…”

Shippō made a face. “You have been inside all week…”

“Oi, kid!” Huh? Oh, that voice… I recognize it. Blinking a few times and squinting as my eyes tried to adjust to the sunlight, I turned to see Kōga wandering over with a wave of his hand. Kirara walked over to meet him halfway and then came to a stop, and I stared in confusion when he leaned over with his hands on his hips, a scowl on his face. “Why didn’t you say Maria was your sister? I could have brought you two together sooner!”

Ah… I mean…

“I… tried… I think?” When was that conversation? We were both on Kirara at that point of time, weren’t we? Oh! “It was when Inuyasha had turned… y-you know…”

Kōga scrunched his nose up. He straightened his back and folded his arms across his chest. “Really? I don’t remember you doing that.”

Yeah, I know. You stopped listening midway through my sentence because we were chasing Kagura. I hung my head to the side and yawned, sleepy.

“That’s fair. So, um…” I looked up at him, a little awkward and a tiny bit grateful. “You’ve been looking after her… all this time?”

“Hm? Yeah.” He nodded, flashing a grin. A couple wolves started to make their way over and I tensed, but did my best not to be too scared. Kirara and Shippō weren’t reacting in fear, so why should I? It’s fine. I’m fine. “According to two of my men, she fed some of the wolves when she first met them. They brought her back to the mountain since she was injured.”

Kōga then scratched the back of his head, thinking about everything that’s happened and appearing a little sheepish.

“We… also thought she might have done something to Kagome at the time because of her strange clothes. We didn’t hurt her, though, so don’t bother getting mad at me.” He scowled. “She’s a proper member of the Wolf Demon Tribe now. She’s even taught my men a thing or two about swords.”

Wait, really? My heart simultaneously warmed and ached at the thought, and I gave a small laugh- breathy and pained and weak. I was so glad. She’s had people looking out for her. Heck, she was even whipping them into shape. Maria truly was a force of her own. “That sounds like her.”

“Yeah. Oh, hey- here comes the others.”

I followed the direction he was staring and saw Maria making her way over with Inuyasha, Sango, Kagome, Miroku, Maria, and… Tōran? I guess they were discussing what the panther demons plans were now that they had been defeated. Or maybe not. I had no idea. The half-demon’s ear twitched and I held up a hand, waving lazily at them with a grin.

“Morning…!”

“You’re so loud.” Inuyasha scowled.

“You say that like it’s new.” I countered. He hmph’d, folding his hands into his sleeves in the way he always does, and then glared when he saw Kōga standing there. “You again.”

“Hey there, mutt.” Kōga greeted, smirking, giving a sarcastic wave. “How’s it going? Wash out those fleas of yours yet?”

“Funny you should ask.” He snarked. “I was just wondering the same thing about you.”

“Okay, kids!” Kagome exclaimed, clapping her hands in front of her and stepping between the boys. Inuyasha and Kōga jumped, startled by her intervention. “Let’s not have this escalate any farther! Irene still isn’t feeling well, and it’s time we all discussed our plans for moving forward. Got it? Good.”

“Hmph.” Inuyasha was not happy at all with this. His face had twisted into a begrudging pout, head turned to the side to avoid looking at her. “He started it.”

“And I’m ending it.” Kagome stated, hands on her hips as she leaned over and glared up at him. “No fighting!”

“Whatever you say, Kagome.” Kōga said, voice taking on a much softer tone than before. He held his chin up, as if priding himself on something. “Unlike him, I actually listen to the woman I’m in love with.”

That lit another fire under Inuyasha, because his amber gaze snapped up with a rage. “You little-!”

“Sit, boy!”

I flinched when the beads around the half-demon’s neck lit up, and he screeched as his face was violently forced to meet the ground. Maria let out a whistle- strangely enough not surprised by what just happened. I guess Kagome used the incantation against Inuyasha sometime while I was asleep. Him and Kōga together was a recipe for disaster, after all, though I didn’t really approve of the beads of subjugation.

Miroku shook his head with a sigh, staff held to his side. “You’d think he’d learn by now.”

Sango raised her brows. “Bold of you to assume he knows how.”

“Agreed.” Shippō stated bluntly. I made a face.

“You’re not… wrong…”

Kagome let out a huff, then turned to me with a bright smile. “So, now that that’s settled! Let’s get down to business.”

Twisted Wonderland: Once Upon A Dream Chapter 35 Preview (WIP)

“Fufu~ you’re most welcome, dear.” Lilia chuckled, sitting up and leaning over, bringing his fingers to my hair and playing with my bangs again. “How are you feeling? I wasn’t expecting to find both you and Silver passed out on the furniture when I returned.”

Frick! Silver! Oh my gods!

Lilia quickly retracted his hand when I hurriedly sat up, the man watching as I looked around in a panic. Locating the sleepy teen within seconds, I caught the jacket as it fell off my lap and stumbled off the sofa, pain momentarily shooting through my wounded knee before I grabbed onto the sofa’s armrest.

“A-Are you okay!?” Aurora-colored eyes met mine and slowly blinked, observing the way I was acting and tilting his head just slightly. “You- earlier- you just…! I-I found you on the ground and you wouldn’t wake up, and-!”

I whirled around to face Lilia, all the worse-case scenarios rushing to mind.

“Poma! You should take him to Poma! The nurse! Nurse Salvador.” Crap. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I pressed a hand to my head, jacket draped over my arm. “He can… help…”

“I’m alright, Lady Eleanora.” Silver spoke quietly, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing his head. “I… apologize for troubling you.”

“What? No, no-“ Gods, my head is spinning. “-that's fine, I’m fine; are you fine!? You were literally collapsed and-“

“I’m afraid that’s normal for Silver.” Lilia quickly informed, floating up off the sofa and plopping on the armrest instead.

Pokémon: Time Lapse: Reluctant Hero Chapter 16 Preview (WIP)

This was such a ridiculous situation. Was Brock done cooking yet? I really want to talk to him. Basil and Belladonna waddled over to Blue, unable to join the group cuddle because of the room Umbreon took up, and the former pōkemon trainer raised a brow in amusement.

He gladly welcomed them over, petting them and gently scratching the side of Belladona’s face. “Compared to you, they’re pretty well behaved. I guess that’s because Brock is helping you train them.”

“Hey, now!” Brock suddenly said, entering the room with two bowls of soup in his hands. A light-hearted grin was on his face. “I’ll have you know she’s an excellent trainer! She beat me first try.”

“I think that says more about you than her.” Blue joked, and yelped when Basil headbutted his leg. “Whoa! Okay. Someone’s a little protective.”

Brock laughed. The boy’s smile only grew when he saw the way I was bombarded with pōkemon, and he calmly walked over- handing a bowl over to me. Umbreon took that as her queue to leave my lap and hop onto the floor, brushing her trainer’s legs.

“Here.” Brock said, watching as I set the bowl down in my lap. “Eat this. We’ll leave once you’ve both finished breakfast, seeing as everyone is in such a good mood.”

“What about Nugget Bridge?” Blue inquired, frowning. He set the bowl on the armrest of the couch, blowing on it before picking up the spoon. “Team Rocket has tons of their goons there.”

“Not anymore.” Brock smirked, placing his hands on his hips with a proud air about him. “I took care of them. I had Basil and Belladonna knock em out and drag ‘em to the police center. After that, I told them about the underground hideout- so they’re pretty much emptying the place out. Team Rocket isn’t going to be camping out in this city any longer.”

Oh.

Taking note of my silence, both boys turned to look at me. Sensing both the negative and conflicted emotions within me, Ansem let out a small mew and Basil and Belladonna moved off of Blue’s lap and closer to Machamp and me.

I lowered my head, eyebrows furrowed as I tried to decipher what it was I was feeling and how I was supposed to react. I was pleased, I guess, to hear that the underground base was being removed and the goons inside and out of it were arrested. I was also bothered by it.

Not because I cared about Team Rocket, but… because Brock took care of it all on his own. He didn’t take me along. He could have gotten severely hurt, captured and beaten the same way Blue had been. I don’t like that. I don’t like him being in danger.

“Hey…” The older, brown-skinned teen in question spoke up softly, stepping forward and kneeling down on the floor to look up and catch my gaze. I blinked, seeing his face in front of mine. Brock was frowning. “Are you mad at me?”

What?

“I know… you like to do things on your own. I also know that you don’t want to put me in harm's way. But…”

Brock reached forward, resting his hands on my arms gently- careful not to disturb any of my wounds or burns. He looked so sad, so heartbroken and concerned, and something inside me ached at seeing that. I wanted him to go back to how he was before- smiling the way he had been when he was cooking.

“I don’t like you getting hurt either.”

I…

“You need to start relying on me more. We’re not helpless or weak. We’re just as strong as you are. We can help you. There’s no reason for you to go tackling so many problems alone, especially if it’s just going to break you in the end. Grunt, I-“

Brock cringed, realizing his mistake the second he saw my flinch.

“I’m sorry. I just… want you to realize we’re here. I went out on my own with Basil and Belladonna because I wanted you to know this. We’re your friends, and we want to help you. But you have to let us.”

“That’s…”

I blinked a few times, feeling a familiar sting in my eyes, and suddenly Machamp’s grip loosened. My pokémon huddled around us, worried. I tried to speak, to get the words out and defend myself, to protest against him doing something like this again, only to find that I couldn’t.

He had made a good point.

#twisted wonderland #twst #eleanora quince #Inuyasha #Irene #Inuyasha fanfic #Pokémon #pokémon let’s go eevee #pokemon oras #fanfiction wip

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frangipansi · 5 years ago

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i love love love your writing! your levi x mc swimming one was so beautifully written it made me smile so big! i was wondering if you could write some belphie x mc angst? maybe them getting into a fight or miscommunication or whatever u prefer! (im a sucker for angst) if theres a brother u feel more comfortable writing that for feel free to switch! tysm hope ur safe and healthy

Aww! Anon!! you make ME smile so big! Thank you so much, you’ve no idea how happy I am to hear that.

NOW... admittedly, Belphie is not one of my faves (fighting Luci for that wooden spoon award) and I surprisingly found throwing him into a bit of angst difficult, BUT, not one to back down from a challenge, hopefully I have not disappointed. Enjoy!!

Belphie was falling in love; he understood completely how the others had become smitten with MC. She had a calming effect; a way of defusing tension and bringing people together. She’d get herself into trouble; literally putting herself in harm’s way all for the simple reason of fixing their broken family.

The two of them were currently enjoying each other’s company in the common room; Belphie resting his head on her lap while she read through an old demonic textbook, one hand absentmindedly fiddling with his hair.

He took in a deep breath and looked up at her. “Hey, MC…”

“Mm?” She hummed, tilting the book from her view and looked down on him.

“We have a rare night tonight where the human realm stars are visible. I thought maybe we could watch them together.” His question had a hesitance to it but he was hopeful.

She gave him a smile but shook her head. “Oh Belphie honey, I’m sorry, but my night’s already booked out.”

“Oh.” Belphie nodded, his eyes darting from hers before he smiled. “That’s okay. I can always ask Beel.”

Her smile widened, hand ruffling his hair before she returned to her book.

Belphie’s heart raced at her touch and her smile swirling within his mind. She had grown so comfortably close with him, and it was only a matter of time before he would summon the courage to tell her how he really felt. It should have been easy, he could tell she liked him; but at the same time she just made him so nervous.

The darker of night had come and Belphie had strolled out of a late night pizzeria with Beel at his side; a stack of pizza boxes in his arm and top box open so he could eat while the two walked to Belphie’s favourite spot to watch the rare sight of stars.

Smiling at the simple pleasure of being able to watch his brother enjoy his food innocently and unabashed; Belphie looked ahead and near stumbled over his own feet. He froze at the sight; MC holding the hand of the arm slung around her shoulder belonging to Mammon. She had a look of sheer delight as Mammon’s face dropped to her neck; undoubtedly peppering her skin with playful kisses as she appeared to start giggling and tilting her head to get the Avatar of Greed to relent.

“Beel… I – I want to go home.” He murmured as he turned around.

“Hm?” Beel looked to his brother; a look of confusion as he shoveled another slice of pizza into his mouth. “I thought you wanted to star gaze?”

“Forget it Beel… I changed my mind.” Belphie began walking in the direction of Lamentation, not waiting for Beel’s reply.

“Are you hungry?” the question came so suddenly and Belphie lost his composure; turning back on Beel and growled as he smacked the pile of boxes from Beel’s arm.

“No I am not fucking hungry!” Belphie snapped, kicking the mess of pizza and boxes across the cobble stone streets. “Damn it Beel, not everything is about food!”

“My pizza…”

Belphie’s mind was reeling. How could he have been so stupid? So blind that he hadn’t realised that his love was unrequited? But to make things worse, the love she had was for the idiot of the bunch; Mammon who was so clouded by making a quick Grimm that he was lucky to be able to form a cohesive sentence, was the one to win her affections.

And to top it all off, he took it out on Beel and his Pizzas. “Belphie…” He glanced up at the sad but worried tone of Beel but he just couldn’t calm down; he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so heart broken. It hurt, beyond any explanation.

“For fuck sake Beel, grow up!” He snapped, punching a streetlight and creating a great kink in the beam before storming home.

By the time MC and Mammon returned home; Beel had cleaned out the fridge and retreated to his room while Belphie seethed in the common room within his own growing sorrow; continuously scolding himself for being so idiotic for thinking MC liked him the way he did her, but also for being so mean to Beel.

Of all brothers he could have unleashed at; it just had to be the one who he was not only closest with; but the the most emotionally in tune to those around him that he too would now be hurting just as deeply.

He closed his eyes, curling his body into itself when he heard her giggling. “Shh, shut up Mammon… you’ll have Lucifer breathing down your neck. We’re so late home.”

“Ahh!” Mammon scoffed with all of his usual bravado that would normally make Belphie laugh, but instead now just made him sick. “Ya still think THE Mammon is scared of old Lucifer? Ha! I ain’t scared of no d– wait, what are ya doin’?”

“Texting Lucifer, telling him we’ve just walked in.”

“Oi! Cut that out!”

Belphie sighed deeply at her giggling; wishing like anything that he was the reason for her making a sound like that. “Go to bed.” He listened to her command as she kept chuckling.

“Ya comin’ with?” Belphie could hear the smug grin on his brother’s face; it took everything within not to sit up and hurl a pillow into his face at full force, desperate to peg him down a notch.

“In a moment; I wanna check on the common room fire; the protective gate isn’t over it.” Belphie looked to the fire; silently cursing himself for being complacent, completely forgetting to set the gate back in place after loading the pit with wood.

He remained utterly still as she came into his view; watching her as she took hold of the fire poker to even out the burning logs before carefully putting the gate back in place.

She dusted off her hands, turning in place and jumped. “Oh! Belphie.”

He glanced up, their eyes locking and he felt his heart sink as she smiled at him before she noticed how upset he looked. “Belphie honey, what’s wrong?” she asked; crouching down by the couch and slipped a hand into his while the other brushed the unkempt fringe from his face.

“Did the skies end up not being clear enough?” She questioned with a sad smile.

MC really had no idea the pain she was causing him as she tried her best to comfort him; he so desperately wanted to yell at her, condemn her for making a decision so stupid as to date Mammon, but when he looked up into his eyes he could only return her smile with his own and nodded.

“Yeah…” his words laced in a quiver he wished he could hide. “Not clear at all.”

“Oh honey,” She gently chuckled as she sat herself on the empty space of the couch in front of his lap and draped her arms around him; her actions and pet name for him just fueling the ache bubbling inside himself.

“Maybe tomorrow night?” She suggested. “I wouldn’t mind keeping you company either if you think there might be a slight clearing?”

He sighed and hated that he nodded. “I’d really like that MC… thank you.” If he couldn’t have her love returned, he could at least for a moment longer, pretend that she was his; regardless of just how much it would hurt.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me f!mc

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gothfoxx · 5 years ago

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I read this fic recently where after giving izuku his quirk, all might works him way to hard, forces him to hide his pain from others, and hurts him when he can't hide it. All the while, izuku thinks its normal, and that all might is just trying to help him. could you do a one shot where dadzawa finds out and goes all "you will never touch this child again" mode? please i need comfort after all the angst.

Anon if it’s the fic I’m thinking of...I understand, here’s some comfort and if I can fit it in some Dadzawa fluff🖤

Also I’m using this song as inspiration cause it fits the way Aizawa would be feeling during the whole thing

Also sorry for my sins, I wanted to make it DAD Dadzawa 🙏

All of the students were back with their families for golden week so Aizawa was taking his time to get back home from the meeting with Ally Cat and the other vigilantes. He was going across an alcove that held a hidden beach when he heard the sound of retching. Normally that wouldn’t be enough to draw him in, drunks weren’t worth the trouble if they weren’t causing problems, what did have him looking down into the alcove was the sob that followed. It was the sob of a child, a child he had thought was safely at home with their mother.

Midoriya Izuku was huddling into the back of the alcove, right up against the rock of the short cliff, shivering and dry heaving. He was covered in dark marks and smudges, his shirt was way too thin for the weather and his wasn’t wearing any shoes. In the dark his hair and the smudges looked black while his pale skin looked sickly in the moonlight. Aizawa’s instincts had him jumping down the cliff in an instant, that probably wasn’t the best idea because the small boy flinched and curled into himself like he expected a blow. From here Aizawa could smell iron along with the bile. Midoriya was bleeding.

“Midoriya?” No response, “Midoriya?” Still nothing. Aizawa sat down in front of the boy, minding the sick, and tried again, “Izuku?” The kid’s head snapped up at the use of his first name. “S-Sensei? Why are y-you he-here?” Midoriya asked with chattering teeth. Thanking kami that he was in civilian clothes Aizawa took off his coat and draped it over his student’s trembling shoulders. “Well kid I could ask you that same question, I’m a off duty underground hero. What’s your reason?” He gently reached out and tilted Midoriya’s head so the light hit him better, the kid had a black eye that was swollen shut and a busted lip. “Who did this to you?” His voice remained calm but the instincts that made him jump down here were yelling at him to take this kid and book it. There was a crunch in the sand behind him just as Midoriya’s eyes grew wide and he gasped out “All Might”.

The crunch turned out to be a stray dog that came up to sniff them, whimpering into Midoriya’s side while the boy took to slowly petting its head. It didn’t take an idiot to put together the clues, the kid had a quirk he couldn’t control, he seemed unused to praise, he and Yagi knew each other before class, the low self worth, the clear aftermath of a harsh beating, and the fear at being found by Yagi. Obviously Midoriya was being abused by his father, a man who claimed that the boy was not in fact his. Aizawa had looked into the kid, he knew the boy got his quirk late and he wasn’t a stranger to a father leaving because of a quirk. It was plausible that a dead-beat might come back once he thought his kid was worth something now. “Midoriya does your mother know where you are?” He hopes that she doesn’t, that she wasn’t letting this happen. The boy stiffens and the dog whimpers again trying to snuggle the kid. “N-no, she d-doesn’t n-n-know. She i-is out of town.” Midoriya’s answer rings with a hollow note. “Mid- Izuku, where are you stay while she’s out of town?” The gut feeling is eating at him now chanting a montra of ‘grab him and run, hide’ and he was so close to giving in.

Midoriya didn’t get a chance to answer because another crunch in the sand, this one much heavier announced the arrival of someone else. The dog stood in the kid’s lap and growled. The figure standing behind Aizawa was the skeletal form of Toshinori Yagi. It wasn’t the Yagi or All Might Aizawa was used to and annoyed by, this Yagi had looked less like death was at his door and more like he was the reaper coming to collect his bounty. “Midoriya you shouldn’t run off like that, look you’ve worried this poor man and his dog. Come along we need to go back to the agency.” And if Aizawa hadn’t grown up hearing the same tone of fake concern from his mother or afterwards when dealing with domestic abuse cases he might have fallen for it. Standing up to his full height and letting all the protective rage and childhood fear fuel the fire behind his glare Aizawa growled out, “he isn’t going back with you. He’s never going with you anywhere again! I don’t care if he is your kid or not Yagi, you are never laying a hand on him or going near him again! I’ll make sure of it!” All Might blinks in shock then recognition, “Hello Aizawa, didn’t take you as a dog person. Now why can’t I take my charge back with me? He’s my responsibility.” The titan asked, the threat in Aizawa’s words either not taken seriously or not understood. “Because Yagi, he was scared to death that it was you when I found him. He’s terrified and covered in injuries and blood. You are not getting him back ever.” The anger and panic in his gut turned from a hot feverish wild fire to a freezing acidic poison that laced his every word. He would fight the world’s number one, the devil himself, to protect Izuku.

After a great time of staring each other down All Might yields and takes a step back. “Fine, keep him, but I’ll always be there. He can’t escape his destiny and we’ll always be connected.” He states the last bit towards the boy still cowering behind the dog. The dog growls again and lowers into a fighting stance. “His destiny is his to decide. Being his father doesn’t automatically his dad, it doesn’t make you connected. Don’t ever think it does.” Aizawa declares with the wisdom of someone who had to find that knowledge firsthand. All Might scofts and walks away a dismissive wave of his hand.

Aizawa stands there for a long while making sure the skeletal was really gone before he turns back to the two behind him. Izuku is staring with his one good eye like the world had just flipped upside down. As gently as he can muster Aizawa starts talking to Izuku “Hey kid, it’s going to be okay. I know it might not make sense now but you’re safe now, what was happening with you and him was not how anyone should treat you. I won’t let him make you think it’s okay just because you share dna. I won’t let him hurt you again, you’re safe.” The kid still looks so lost but he nods, it looks like it causes him pain though.

“Okay first thing first, medical care.” The boy opens his mouth to argue, “Kid you look worse than I did at USJ please don’t try to fight me on this.” Aizawa pleads as he pulls out his phone and calls Ally Cat, they should still be awake and they have a car. The conversation is short and to the point, Cat will be picking them up with a change of clothes and some flip-flops for the kid and a leash for the stray. “Thanks for doing this Cat, I know it’s short notice.” “All emergencies are short notice Eraser, I got your back.” “See you soon” “you know it” And with that everything is set into motion, slowly but in motion non the less. He looks back at Izuku after he hangs up, the kid is dozing off with his hands in the dog’s fur. If it wasn’t for the injuries and time of night Aizawa could pretend that they were just at the beach for the peaceful silence. He figured he could take them to a different beach, make better memories, once the kid wasn’t beat to hell and back. “Huh, guess I have a kid and dog now. Mic and everyone aren’t going to let me live this down.” He muses just as a black mini-van pulls to the side of the road above them. “Cat must have been worried” he huffs as he carefully scoops up Izuku and heads around the side of the aclove and up to the road, dog loyaly following.

Izuku had three cracked ribs, neck and shoulder injuries like that of a retired boxer, and a fractured cheek bone. The doctor was suspicious of the duo when they came into the hospital but after Aizawa showed him his hero ID and explained it as an abuse case the worried anger faded. Aizawa didn’t blame the man for thinking the worst. As they waited for more tests to come back and the boy to wake up from the use of a healing quirk Aizawa called Nezu to inform him about what had happened and they made plans to have Yagi removed from the school quickly & quietly. After that the kid was still sleeping and the doctors saw he wouldn’t be waking for a least another hour or two so Aizawa texted Cat about the dog.

E: is it chipped

A: nope

E: can your friends have it checked over and chipped today?

A: sure but it’s not an it she’s a lovely shiba mix

E: ok thanks

A: anytime, you adopting just the dog or?

E: he has a mom

A: :/ you know what I mean

E: yeah I do and yeah

A: cool! I get to be the cool auncle! Dibs!

E: why are all my friends like this?

A: cause you like the affection:p

E: no you

He ignores the next text because Izuku wakes up. The kid looks lost again, just rotating his arm with the iv in it and mumbling to himself. “Hey champ, you fell asleep before we got you here.” Aizawa explains slowly because the pain meds might be messing with the kid’s head. The kid just looks up at him with pinched eyebrows and confusion,”we?” His voice is so small and dry, Aizawa grabs a cup and fills it up from the sink in the room they are in. “Yeah my friend drove us here. They took the dog to a vet to get checked over too.” He elaborates as Izuku drinks the water. “If you want to we can keep her, the dog I mean, she isn’t chipped and my friend thought you might want to keep her.” He asks a bit unsure of how to address what happened without causing the kid more stress. “But the dorms don’t allow pets if it’s not for a quirk or medical reasons.” The kid says sadly. And that wasn’t going to stand on Aizawa’s watch, he claimed this kid and he was going to be the best guardian he could be. “She doesn’t have to stay at the dorms, she can live at home.” He assures the kid.

But now the kid is tearing up and the man did not know what he did wrong or how to set things right. “I don’t have anywhere else to take her, mom got caught in a villain attack at work. The whole building came down. Yagi-Sensei had been letting me stay at this agency.” And just fuck, Aizawa hadn’t been told Ms Midoriya had passed and he had a feeling non of the other staff did either. “Izuku, you don’t have to ever go back with him but you can’t not have a home. After tonight I think Yagi will sign his parental rights over to me but only if you are okay with it. If not then we can figure out something else or make you a ward like Er-“ He stops mid sentence as Izuku hugs him, burying his bandaged cheeks into Aizawa’s neck. All The man can do as the kid clings to him is cling back, he had no idea when the last time an adult showed this kid love so he held the boy close. “He- he’s not my d-dad Aizawa-Sensei, my dad g-g-gave me up years ago. Yagi-Sensei du-doesn’t have p-parental rights.” The kid admits as he sobs, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to be alone.” Izuku confesses, breaking the heart of the man holding him.

When doctors give them the okay and Izuku has gotten himself back together enough to put on the clothes Cat had brought Aizawa has Cat take them to His apartment near U.A. the shiba is waiting in the back of the van with a shiny red leather collar. Izuku and the dog fall asleep quickly. “So Sho, this mean you’re gonna petition for custody?” Cat asks as they drive, careful to not to wake the kid with the sudden sound. “Don’t have to, circumstances have changed. I’ll just have to file for adoption.” He sighs, he knows they won’t pry into it while everything is still happening so he feels safe enough to let them know. “Cool, just remember I called dibs on being the cool auncle. I’m spoiling him and that sweet pup.” They remind the tired man as he spots the apartment building up ahead. “You’ll have to fight Mic but I think being spoiled by both of you idiots will be good for him.” He laughs softly as he pictures the gift war that’s bound to happen now. “Don’t worry Mr Dad, I think you’ll spoil him enough before we can. You gave him a dog and he’s not even your kitten yet.” They tease.

It’s been three weeks and Izuku settles into his new bedroom with his new dog, Kēki, the room is kind of baren but he didn’t have a lot to decorate with yet. He’d thrown out or given away most of his hero merchandise, only keeping a few things his mom gave him. He was looking forward to the next week, Shota had told him that the papers were in and that by that time they would approve the adoption. Soon Izuku would be Midoriya-Aizawa Izuku, he wouldn’t have thought he’d like living with his teacher but the man gave off the same soft caring aura Izuku’s mom had...just in a quiet way. While the man wasn’t very physically affectionate he did listen when Izuku needed him, he asked questions about Izuku’s interests and goals and just overall made the kid feel like he mattered.

Izuku loves his dad, he hadn’t really known his birth dad so it was easy to give that title to the man that had taken him in so readily. Life was looking up, All might had been let go from U.A. and wasn’t allowed to teach ever again. Grand Torino had reached out in condolences when he heard that his non-grandson had lost his mother, the old man offered to watch him if the situation ever occurred. So now Izuku had a dad, most of the staff of his school as aunts and uncles, some odd vigilante that called themself his ‘auncle’, Kēki, and a grandpa! He still missed his mom but his dad had sent him to therapy to work through what All Might had put him through and Izuku had discovered he had some deeper issues of self worth and expecting abuse from those around him. So things were steadily getting better, not noticeably but he was just starting.

“Izuku! Kēki! I brought home dinner!” Shota called as he locked the door back. An exicited kid and dog bound into the front room looking so happy that Shota had to blink away from their brightness. “Come one lets eat while it’s still hot.” He laughs as he carries the bags of take out to the coffee table by the couch. As they dig in a feeling of rightness surrounds them. “Thanks dad.” “No problem Champ”

Kēki is a shiba mix with an all brown coat with a white tail that makes her look like chocolate cake with a dollop of white frosting this the name cake. Ally Cat wasn’t meant for more than just a throw away line but then they needed a car so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hope you liked it anon

#foxx writes #bnha #midoriya izuku #dadzawa #aizawa shouta #mha #aizawa izuku #izuku gets adopted #izuku gets a dog #bad person All Might #Ally Cat is an oc #i wasnt going to have them in this but then keki showed up and they needed a car #anon ask

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miscellaneous-miraculous · 5 years ago

Text

Painted Lady Chapter 3

Read on AO3 here

*four years later*

The apartment was a mess and Adrien loved it. He loved finding Nino’s headphones in the most random spots. He loved Alya’s ‘conspiracy wall,’ photos and articles pinned up everywhere with sticky notes of every color. She claimed there was a system, but no one except Alya had ever figured it out. He even – no, especially, loved finding Marinette’s stray needles everywhere. It reminded him of when he was younger, before his father became a supervillain and all-around jerk. It also made their apartment feel lived in, something his own home had never been like.

“Marinette!” Adrien dropped his keys in the bowl, kicking off his shoes at the door. “I got the fabric!” It was Nino’s turn to cook dinner if the scent of tajine was anything to go by. Adrien could already feel his mouth watering.

“Thanks!” Marinette called from the mezzanine. Her ‘nest’ as Alya had dubbed it. Marinette practically lived up there during finals or when she had big projects. Adrien had carried her down after finding her asleep at her desk more than a few times. She leaned over the edge, a tape measure draped around her neck and a few pencils stuck in her hair. “I’ll be down in second, I’ve just got to finish hemming this.”

Adrien nodded, turning his attention to Alya and her wall. “Anything interesting happen today?” He noticed a few new sticky notes.

“Miraculous wise? No. Journalism wise? Also no,” Alya sighed, pushing her glasses up. She was still wearing the white button down she’d put on in the morning, but she’d changed from her skirt into a pair of orange running shorts, her plaid blazer tossed over the back of her desk chair. “Any chance Chat Noir wants to graffiti the Eifel tower or something?”

“I think I’ll pass on that one, but I’ll let you know if I see anything on patrol later.”

“Fair enough,” Alya shrugged, returning to her board. “I’ve got a few leads to check again, but I doubt anything new will come up. Still nothing in any international news either.”

“Is bad I just want something happen?” Adrien set down the fabric bag on the couch. “We finally solved the thing with my father, but Lila’s still out there. I just wish we had a clearer target.”

“Me too, Sunshine,” Alya took a sticky note from her wall, eyebrows furrowing. “You’re on patrol later, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I tag along?” she folded the sticky note into her shorts pocket.

“Sure, you know you’re free to come whenever, right?”

Alya smirked, “Like I’d ever willingly tag along on a day that’s just you and Ladybug.” Adrien blushed, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “There’s a reason we alternate patrol days.”

“Like you and Nino are any better.”

“Try you and Nino,” Alya snorted in laughter. “Last time you two patrolled together all the news stations were covering a brain freeze contest between Chat Noir and Carapace.”

“That I won!” Nino called from the kitchen.

“Did not!” Adrien protested. Alya only rolled her eyes, looking amused.

“Case in point.”

Adrien was spared replying by Nino shouting, “Dinner in five!”

“I’ll get Marinette,” he said, picking up the fabric bag.

“Don’t get too distracted, lover boy,” Alya said with a wink.

Adrien ignored her, making his way up the ladder. Marinette had several pins in her mouth as she worked on the hem of her dress. It was plain black aside from the two tiny Ladybug stitched over the right shoulder and there weren’t any fancy folds or stiches because of the jacket she’d paired with it. Adrien hadn’t seen it finished, but he knew it was a pink silk bolero that she’d spent days hand embroidering with different flowers. It was the final piece in a collection of six.

“Marinette, Nino said dinner’s almost ready.”

“That’s five minutes of work I can squeeze in,” she said, taking the pins from her mouth.

Adrien sighed, resting his head in his arms as he waited. Then his eyes zeroed in on the basket of yarn in the corner. He had barely reached for it when Marinette said, “Absolutely not, remember what happened last time you got into my yarn?”

“It was one time!” he protested.

“And how many hours of rerolling the balls?” She shook her head, still focused on her work.

Adrien mumbled something about the softness of the yarn before reaching for it again. “Adrien Agreste, I will bring out the laser pointer.”

“Is that a promise?”

Marinette sighed, “Alright, alright, I’m coming.” She laid the pins and tape measure on her desk, shuffling a few papers before making her way down the ladder. “How was your day?”

“It was alright. Finally finished the equation set from the beginning of the week, with a little help from Plagg. Who knew he was so good at explaining Physics?”

“I’ve been around since before Physics was invented,” Plagg yawned. “Now cheese bread, there’s an innovation worth celebrating.”

“I’ll pick some up next time I’m at the bakery,” Marinette promised. “Just try not to eat through it in two days, Mama was worried last time since three out of the four of us are lactose intolerant and it was all gone in a day.”

“You poor, poor humans,” Plagg sighed. “Missing out on all the gooey goodness of cheese.”

“I’m so glad Wyazz just eats lettuce,” Nino said, placing a large dish in the center of the table. He was still wearing the apron Marinette had made him – a green hexagonal pattern embroidered with the words ‘turtle-ly awesome’ and a little smiling turtle underneath.

“Yeah, you and Marinette really lucked out in the kwami feeding department,” Alya said, taking her seat. “Remember when Trixx had me going to the store for frozen mice?”

“I’d rather not.” Adrien shuddered as he remembered opening the freezer and thinking they looked just a little too appetizing for comfort. Marinette might be fine eating flowers but if he ever found a rodent in his mouth, he and Plagg were going to have a serious talk. Especially since he and Marinette had talked about going to the pet store to pick out a hamster once the school year ended.

“I still remember Nino’s screams when he found one on his pillow,” Marinette giggled.

“That was not cool, dude,” Nino frowned at Trixx who merely shrugged.

“I was saving it for later.”

“And you wanted to see Nino’s face when he found it,” Tikki added. It had been her who told Alya that kwamis could eat almost anything, even if they did have their preferences. After that Trixx had been negotiated down to chicken and the occasional sugar mouse.

“Oh, of course,” Trixx smiled indulgently.

“Nino, do you have a gig tonight?” Adrien asked, changing the subject before he could think any more about the possible taste of frozen mice.

Nino shook his head, “Nope, finally got a break in my schedule. Next week’s packed though.”

“Up for some Mech Strike after dinner then? I convinced Marinette to take a break and join us.”

“Since when?” Marinette raised an eyebrow.

“Since just now,” Adrien said, pulling out his best kitten eyes.

The battle didn’t last long.

“As long as you’re prepared to lose,” Marinette said, getting herself more tajine.

“I’d expect nothing less, my lady.”

“Speak for yourself, bro,” Nino protested. They all gave him a look – Nino was notoriously bad at video games. Even though he’d been getting slightly better over the years, he was still no match for Marinette. “Can’t a man dream?”

They all laughed at that.

After dinner Marinette went to set up the game while Alya and Nino did the dishes. Adrien and Alya had been banned from doing dishes together ever since Alya had realized he hissed like a cat whenever the water splashed him, and she found it entirely too entertaining. The moment Marinette sat down Adrien sprawled himself across her lap. “I hope this isn’t some elaborate scheme to distract me,” she said, shifting to a more comfortable position as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Adrien gasped in mock hurt as he placed a hand on his chest, “How could you think so low of me? I simply missed my lady’s company.”

“We spent the entire day together yesterday,” Marinette said with a teasing glint in her eye.

“Exactly, yesterday, today is an entirely different day.”

"Hmm," Marinette tapped her chin. “Well, we could always meet up for some late-night ice cream after your patrol.”

“Ooh, that new place that just opened? With all the toppings?” Adrien’s ice cream usually ended up at least ninety percent toppings.

“Yeah, I’ve been wanting to try it out.”

"Let’s do it then,” Adrien said, practically purring with excitement.

Continue on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580646/chapters/58909261

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fizzypunks · 4 years ago

Text

An Ache Deeper Than This

fandom: naruto wordcount: 3.7k/oneshot rating: teen (sensuality) summary: shikamaru is feeling old and achy on the way back from a mission, and neji gives him a massage.

AO3

note: written because im stressed and just wanted fluff lol

“We’ll make a camp here for tonight,” Neji said, looking up to the sky and the setting sun. Twenty-five minutes till sundown, and two more days left till their team reached The Village Hidden in the Leaves.

Two days till home, after over two weeks of mission. Shikamaru could have sighed in relief, but he didn’t -- though he was relieved, he felt like he’d been whittling down his stamina a lot more these days, and he didn’t want to sound too happy at the prospect of rest. He’d save his sighs and complaining for slightly bigger things than settling down for the night.

Hinata stopped a couple of branches behind them, and a quick glance showed that she was surveying their area. Her eyes relaxed, with a little smile shot toward Shikamaru. “No one’s following, and there’s no one flanking.”

Shikamaru smiled back — he never had to be concerned about their surroundings, not when he was with two Hyuugas.

Lee looked into the same sky, the same direction, and patted Neji on the back. “That is a good call, Neji! The night is swiftly on its way, and we are in a good location to set up camp! We have done a great deal of traveling!”

Neji laughed, looking down to the grass below his branch. “Indeed, Lee. I’ll leave the tents for you.”

“Leave it to me! It will be ready in half an hour!”

Lee dropped to the forest floor, followed by Kiba and Akamaru. Neji and Shikamaru shared a bemused glance. Of this promise, they had no doubt it would be fulfilled, and fulfilled fast.

When Shikamaru wants to complain about pains, aches, and other physical issues that seem to follow him around like a persistent pet, he has to remind himself to not call it a factor of old age. That just wasn’t possible. He knew it, and if he were to say it, it would make him sound more whiny than he cared to be these days.

It’s just the way of a ninja -- who cares if he’s 21, he’s been an active shinobi since he was 12. He’s lived through war, too many S-rank missions to count, and plays an active role fulfilling academy duties such as dodging hyperactive students with weapons. He’s a seasoned shinobi, and he has the scars (and joints) to prove it.

You’re not old, you’re a ninja.

That still doesn’t make the aches and tightness in his shoulder any better -- knowing the cause doesn’t prevent it from happening. Short of retiring, which he didn’t see coming any time soon, this was going to be his life. He was going to have to get used to it.

Maybe he can grumble. A little bit.

“Nara,” came the calming voice to pull him from his thoughts.

Shikamaru looked up from the log he was backed against, eyes focusing in on the Hyuuga in front of him. The sky blended into his long, restrained hair, and the calm fire lit behind him brought a glow to his white robes. His hands were in his pockets, and from his flat expression, it wouldn’t be easy to assess his demeanor.

Shikamaru smiled, which in turn brought one from Neji.

“Nara? You haven’t called me that in a while.”

“You haven’t complained in a while, either, so I figured I’d check in.”

“You’re such a good squad leader. Thanks, captain.”

Neji’s eyes shifted to the side, a self satisfied smile replacing the gentle one before. “Don’t call me that.”

Shikamaru laughed, propping his arms over the back of the log. He liked this. He missed this. He sees Neji often enough, but by misfortunes way, they often take on different missions. This shared mission, it would seem, is a blessing. Even if it was more trouble than it was worth, but it was also an incredible peace of mind to be side-by-side with him and not just waiting to be reunited.

That was more common than not, too.

Neji sat down on the same log Shikamaru rested against, just to the left of him. His robes were sullied with the regular wear and tear of a mission, and due to the nature of their combatants in the land of earth, the edges of his pants were singed and blackened.

Shikamaru reached out and rolled the material between his fingers, watching parts of it break off. “Did you consider that maybe there’s nothing to complain about?”

Neji looked down to him, then sighed. “This mission is long, got derailed, took longer than anticipated, and no one has slept in a bed in two weeks. I’d consider that… troublesome.”

Shikamaru chuckled, dropping the hem of his pant leg. His eyes turned toward the fire, where Lee, Kiba, and Hinata roasted veggies. “Hmm. You have a point.”

Neji rested a hand on Shikamaru’s shoulder, and Shikamaru tried not to flinch. He thought he must have done a good job, since Neji didn’t comment on it. He just squeezed, gazing out to their friends at the far side of camp.

“When we’re home, it’s possible we might have to take on another S-rank. Kakashi already told me that he got word of missionaries out in the Mist, and he doesn’t want to send genin or chunin.”

Shikamaru couldn’t help it this time, he had to sigh - he had to, in some way, let out his frustrations, and nothing was appropriate except for the soft tufts of tension that need to be released from his body.

This life was clearly not made with him in mind -- he could do it, but it was a pain.

“What a drag.”

Neji squeezed again. “Indeed.”

Man, my shoulder hurts -- what the fuck did I do to it?

Kiba and Akamaru were wiped too, because Lee was animatedly talking to him and Kiba was only nodding in agreement. Hinata, with a bowl of food in hand, was more engaged in the conversation, smiling and nodding along as Lee continues his story.

They were far enough that the two of them couldn’t hear any details, just tones, just exclamations. It was sort of heart-warming, if Shikamaru ponders on it. Walking away from a mission that took blood and sweat and tears (Lee’s, admittedly, but tears nonetheless), only to be sitting with your friends and teammates in a tranquil evening of rest.

It’s nice, seeing everyone you love alive.

“So, which shoulder is it?”

Neji’s hand was still resting on him, atop his jacket, and Shikamaru was again removed from his thoughts.

“Hmm? What?”

Neji shot an annoyed glance downward. “Where are you hurting? And don’t tell me you’re not, you’ve been favoring your left arm and side all day.”

Ah , to think a Hyuuga wouldn’t see… that Neji wouldn’t know. Should’a figured.

“It’s not that bad.”

“But it hurts?”

Shikamaru laughed, looking up to Neji and trying to be annoyed and finding that he couldn’t. Neji could frustrate him, call him on his shit, or generally be a pain to deal with on missions, but Shikamaru couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed. “... A little bit, I guess.”

“Take off your jacket,” Neji said immediately, like all he needed was a reason.

Shikamaru obliged, and he removed his flak jacked with all the care in the world. Sitting down, having a chance for his body to relax and not move, had set his muscles into a calm state that did not take kindly to being interrupted.

The sharp pains running down his back, his scapula, and his neck were renewed. He gasped when his jacket was freed from his shoulders. “Damn it,” he sighed, setting it off to the side.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad?”

Shikamaru shook his head. “It isn’t,” he insisted, but he didn’t try to sound convincing.

It was Neji’s turn to sigh. In a quick and quiet motion, he stood, hitching a leg around the log so that he could sit behind Shikamaru. Shikamaru sat on the ground, a long leg on either side of him.

Shikamaru immediately tensed when he realized what Neji had in mind, and looked over his shoulder with an expression he hoped wasn’t too surprised. “ Neji ,” he said, not quite a whisper, but through tense lips. “They’re…”

Neji took it all in amusement. “Kiba and Hinata are nearly asleep, and there’s no force in the world that will make Lee observant enough to notice.”

His hands came up to lay gently across Shikamaru’s shoulders, no force behind them, just intent and awaiting action. Shikamaru wanted it in his heart, his muscles begged for a massage that would bring an end to their ache, but the type of person he is has never made him feel relaxed in the face of public displays of affection...

They’ve been together for three years, and everyone knows this, and he will still feel himself grow stiff at the thought of being open or vulnerable in public. His ears still would warm if he’s caught in the middle of a kiss…

It’s a damn curse.

Neji’s hands, all soft angles and long digits, rose up the sides of his shoulder, encouraged to do so with the silence Shikamaru granted him, rather than complaints and arguments. They climbed just to the length of skin between his shoulder and his neck. He leaned down, head dipping to the right, his lips ghosting the shell of Shikamaru’s ear. “Can I let down your hair?”

Shikamaru’s face felt warm -- too warm, too fast. He nodded, eyes forward in anticipation. It was dumb, but he’s just... never been the type to be vulnerable in public -- and never on a mission. But he nodded all the same, because Neji’s hands were convincing in any circumstance, and maybe this little log, far away from camp, was private enough.

The sounds from the campfire kept steady, a gentle scene of friendly stories and muffled laughter.

“Thank you,” Neji whispered, and he quickly did away with the band in Shikamaru’s hair. He combed through the mass, making sure to not catch in any knots so it could lay flat.

“That’s nice,” Shikamaru sighed, surrendering to him despite their circumstance.

Neji carded through his hair, gently and with great care. He was slow, and the feeling was like a calm shore lapped at by little waves. And when he brought his fingertips to trace long paths down his head, Shikamaru definitely didn’t mind at all.

“Don’t stop…”

He pushed the lengths to drape over Shikamaru’s right shoulder, and Shikamaru opened his eyes, not having remembered closing them at all. Neji began pressing the tips of his fingers into the knots in his shoulders. “How about after a massage?”

Ah, yes. That’s what he was supposed to be doing. “Oh… yeah, yeah.”

Neji chuckled, and the sound was like a hit to the gut. “I’m sorry I distracted you,” and before Shikamaru was able to disagree, he pressed his thumbs into tender muscles. “Now, relax.”

“Mmm,” Shikamaru winced, thumbs grazing over inflamed muscle and painful nerves.

“Tell me where.”

“Right where you are is perfect ,” and this was the way it was, he was already sinking back into Neji’s hands, eyes fluttering shut again with each passing second.

Neji’s hands were familiar, gentle and rough in a perfect harmony that was known only to Shikamaru. He’d never experienced a place that felt safer than within the hold of these hands, and this embrace.

His shoulders fell, by inches, but in magnitude it was like the tensions of a bridge held taut on ropes too worn finally giving away. He didn’t even know how bad they felt, not until he could move them without also being in discomfort. The tenderness remained, but that, too, was lessening with every squeeze.

“Your muscles are so tense…” and he pushed a thumb deep into his scapula, a tight roll of knots lighting up under his thumb.

Shikamaru whimpered, head tilting in favor of his left, and tried to unscrew his eyes as the pain passed. “I know… well, I know now , but I didn’t realize I was this --”

A press, and a loud pop between his back ribs.

“-- hnn -- tense…”

“You should stretch with me at home.”

“We’ve tried that…”

“If you try with me, I’ll make sure you don’t corner me again.”

Shikamaru smirked, the memory bringing a spark of heat to his stomach. Ghost pains of kneeling behind Neji on his bare knees came back like a blaze, but he didn’t hate it. “Suit yourself.”

Neji chuckled again.

When he gets past the stupid part of his brain that insists he’s doing something he shouldn’t, and publicly doing it despite it being easily viewed, Shikamaru admits that it’s not that bad. Granted, their teammates were still a distant thought that didn’t pay them any attention, but still -- he enjoyed the fact that he was able to get away from the pain in his body.

Neji’s hands are like home, coaxing and pulling him into comfort. He opens his eyes just a sliver, peering out from his sleepiness and tranquility. The lights are little points, blurry beads and circles.

The ground is hard, he wants fresh clothes, and there’s a creaky forest around them, but with Neji…

I don’t need anything else.

“Neji…” He whispered, leaning toward his thigh. He beckons with a finger, “C’mere.”

Neji’s hair fell, flowing down into their space, and it was like a curtain, a place that existed between the two of them; another place so familiar, his bones would recognize it no matter what. Neji eyed him from the side, quiet, attentive and awaiting. Shikamaru raised his arm to wrap around Neji’s neck, not to tug or pull or alter in any way except to say stay .

“I owe you.”

Neji shook his head, but kept his silence with a knowing smile.

“I do.”

He kissed Neji’s cheek, ‘cause actions are better than words.

Neji’s hands start to knead into the conjunction of his shoulder, still under loose restraint of Shikamaru’s arm. A shooting pain issued from each contact point-- little avalanches, little aches releasing themselves from the flesh like tumbling boulders. It hurt, but then the pain gave way to better feelings, fewer pains.

“Your hands… are so warm,” it was like he couldn’t stop the words. His voice was hoarse and too relaxed for his own liking, since it wasn’t in his house or his bed, and those too tumbled like an avalanche.

Neji leaned into the skin he was just kneading, lips open in a kiss that only skims the surface -- like what a breath is to a shout, a droplet to a swift river.

But then he starts to suck, and pool blood into the spot Shikamaru knows will be covered by his jacket. It brings heat to his face as he closes his eyes and leans back into the body behind him. His legs twist, just a bit, and he doesn’t have quite enough will power to not let the tension build in him -- his hips shift, his feet doing all they can not to dig.

Shikamaru grabs at both calves beside him, squeezing.

“Don’t do this to me … they’re over there…”

Neji’s lips dance further into his shoulder, and a finger tugs his shirt down over the muscled expanse to expose more skin. “I’m watching, they aren’t looking…”

“Hinata… ”

“She never uses it unless she needs to…”

“Please… you’re gonna… make me too excited…”

“Hmm,” he laughed, little ripples dancing on his skin. “You look nice like this though…”

Another wet kiss, another shudder down his spine and straight to his crotch --

“You’re a fucking menace ,” Shikamaru hisses.

Neji laughs and the vibration carries across his skin, and Shikamaru starts to think that this entire thing was a ploy just to mess with him. But then he retreats, slowly and with a small parting kiss to the skin now blooming with a bruise.

His hands return to their original work, kneading away the tension. “Suit yourself.”

The hot coil in Shikamaru’s stomach sits in wait, and the hidden breath stuck in his chest came out in a nervous exhale. His heart wasn’t racing but it still surged, and now it too was trying to reconcile returning to normal -- so annoyingly fast did it happen, already bringing him to a state of being needy and tired and yearning.

Shikamaru rolled his head back, laying in Neji’s lap. “I fucking hate you.”

“I’m just trying to relax you, it’s not my fault you’re so reactive.”

They fell into a peaceful silence after a quiet hum of acknowledgment -- before so long, the deep-rooted pain in Shikamaru started to ease, soothed by the heat of Neji’s chakra as he focused on chakra points.

The sound of silence also came from camp, where talking had slowed and the fire started to sizzle. It was in embers, and the group surrounding it was finally quieting down for a restful night.

Watching the camp, and enjoying the sense of family that surrounded him, Shikamaru crossed his right hand across his body to rest it on Neji’s. “I wonder if this is what life is gonna look like.”

“What do you mean?”

“For years, we’re going to be going on missions, and we’re all going to be waiting for the rest of us to come back. I just wonder…” And he couldn’t take his eyes off the rest of them, nor rip his hand away from Neji.

“You’re very… sentimental today,” Neji said, leaning into his ear and using his spare hand to run his fingers through his hair again. “Are you okay?”

Shikamaru nodded, ignoring the goosebumps Neji’s breath brought to him. “Yeah, I’m good. Just feeling old.”

Neji laughed. “I’m not going to address that since I’m older than you, but if you want my opinion -- yes, I think we’ll be like this.” And then a small kiss, pressed to his cheek. “I think there’s very little in this world that we haven’t dealt with.”

“I guess you’re right.”

And because Neji knows what’s at the heart of the issue, the part that’s really scary, his voice dropped and Shikamaru was certain he was the only one who could hear him. “And I’ll keep coming back to you, and waiting for you to come back to me.”

Shikamaru’s grip grew stronger, whiter, like all the pain in his body suddenly relocated into his heart and he had to hold on to something to not get lost in it.

“You better,” Shikamaru said, voice swallowed up in his intention. He didn’t realize how heavy this was.

“And you’ll come back, too, right?”

Shikamaru knows he can’t even promise it, yet he feels it in his gut. “Yes,” he responded immediately, forcefully, and his grip became stronger to emphasize.

The shape of Neji’s breath was a smile, and then a hum. “That’s all I want to hear.”

Shikamaru leaned into him, and couldn’t help but relish in all the ways Neji was attending to him, giving him all of his attention and assurance. The hand carding gently through his hair was grounding, just like the feeling strong thighs encasing him was comforting, and the deep familiarity of his hair and the floral scent that always clung to it...

“And,” Neji continued, still as quiet as a whisper. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

“Gods damn it, Neji,” Shikamaru laughed, shaking his head against the other, ignoring the stoking of the fiery heat within his stomach. “Thank you for being serious for a minute, I guess.”

“I’m always serious.”

“Even when you switch topics like that?”

“Especially when I switch topics to this ,” and tugged his hair just a little bit, just enough.

“Hmm, I guess you can show me,” and he lifts his hand from Neji’s to turn him, by the chin, in his direction, lining up their lips. “Since you wanna be difficult, I --”

“HEY!”

Shikamaru dropped his hands, dropped his eyes, dropped his very intentions with every rapid degree of heat that graced his cheeks.

He looked toward camp in a snap of the neck, feelings stupid for his wide eyes and kick-started heart. Kiba is waving toward them, a clear grin across his face as the others behind him are shuffling to clean the fire.

“LOVEBIRDS! WE’RE CALLING IT A NIGHT!”

Why is he so loud?

Neji’s body shook with little tremors of laughter, and he knew that Shikamaru would have sounded too annoyed to answer. So he called out. “Sounds good, I’ll be on watch first!”

Shikamaru knows what he’s doing. He does it all the time.

Kiba flashed them both a grin, but something about it wasn’t pure and it made Shikamaru want to dig a hole and live in it permanently.

“Sounds good!”

“I’ll wake you in two hours.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, turning his back to help put out the fire. But before he did, he shot a look to Shikamaru with a smirk. “Just keep it down, all right? Akamaru’s a light sleeper.”

And then Shikamaru definitely wanted to be swallowed up by the ground, hitai-ate and all.

Normally, Neji would be over there, helping, but there was little to do and what there was to be done, was very quick. Lee and Kiba relocated to their tents after their foods were put back in bags, and Hinata to her own tent after she doused the fire with dirt. Neji and Shikamaru stayed as they were, in the few minutes they took to watch their teammates, and it was almost awkward if it weren’t for their friends lack of subtlety.

They let them have their moment, no questions asked. Shikamaru felt his heart swell again, filled with the unspoken and unconditional love he has with this family. It was a pleasant ache.

Just a few minutes, and suddenly the dark nature was rich and comfortable and almost absolute around them. A familiar sight in the many years of camping out on missions, the consistent scenery and scents as known to him as the back of his hand. The woods were calm and quiet, and they were alone.

“So,” Neji started, hands slowed but strengthened, intention growing from his fingertips in every movement. “Not going to bed?”

Shikamaru relished in the darkness, in the kisses trailing down his neck yet again.

He smiled into the soft pecks trailing down his neck, this time, and didn’t even pretend to stop them. “It’s a little too early to call it a night, don’t you think?”

“See, you’re not getting old.”

“I’ll show you how alive I am,” and Shikamaru kept that promise.

#somehow i couldnt shorten this with a Read More #it didn't pop up #long post #naruto fic #naruto #my writing #my fic #shikaneji #ship: shikaneji #complete #oneshot #fanfic

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alvaar-aldaviir · 5 years ago

Text

Movement: Nocturne 2/2

Time Frame: Shadowbringers MSQ. Spoilers accordingly up to Holminster Switch.

Notes: Grief and angst and a whole lot of comforting the best girl. Platonic SFW with an older Alisaie.

Chapter one here.

Cross-posted to Ao3.

You're probably ALSO going to need this if you want an idea of what Alvaar is singing.

On the eve of Holminster Switch, Alvaar just wants to get some sleep on the first proper night he’s had in days. But there’s no rest for the wicked, and it’s more than worth staying up to comfort the person who needs it most.

Handling loss and grief is starting to feel old hat to him anyway.

“So that’s it. That’s what happened, I swear, if you don’t believe me, ask your sister,” Alvaar murmured, sitting on the steps of one of the stairways after dropping off the Red Mage’s gear with the mender. Alphinaud was perched nearby, mulling over the recap of Alvaar’s evening he’d been told while his carbuncle was currently draped across the man’s lap.

Breathing out a slow sigh, the Scholar finally eased a bit, though his face seemed no less troubled by the news. “So that sin eater was someone she knew... that would explain her reaction then. Who was it?”

“Tesleen. One of the carers at the Inn she was close with. Seemed a very sweet woman... she didn’t deserve that fate,” Alvaar answered, fingers still buried in plush fur. “That good? Not going to kill me now? Because I’m certain she won’t be too happy with what I have said, and any further details you’d have to ask her yourself. That’s just what I know from the brief time I was there.”

“I don’t imagine Alisaie will be either,” Alphinaud mused, studying his own shoes intently. “And... you’re fine Alvaar. My apologies. I should have known better, but even so I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”

Glancing at him, Alvaar shrugged. “You were worried for your sister after she was obviously showing signs of upset and distress. I don’t blame you. If I were in a similar situation, I would have done the same even if one of the Twelve walked out the door instead. Speaking of, why were you there anyway?”

“When Alisaie still hadn’t returned, I thought it best to try and track her down to ensure she hadn’t been ambushed by sin eaters. Moonstone had just led me to your door before you opened it,” he explained quietly.

“Ah... neat trick. You know, I didn’t get a chance to ask before Alphi... who’s this cutie? Moonstone obviously, but I don’t remember you using a white carbuncle before. Last I knew was obsidian,” Alvaar inquired, ruffling the carbuncles long ears and grinning slightly at the rumbly purr it earned.

“Hm? Oh... I suppose you haven’t. I’d only just finished the basic geometries before I left for Garlemald. It’s based from white moonstone, designed for healing support instead of offensive arts,” Alphinaud answered, studying the carbuncle with a faint puzzlement as it continued to snuggle into Alvaar’s lap.

“So you’re the one who left all those paw prints in that shack in Kholusia,” Alvaar remarked brightly, ruffling soft fur and grinning at the bright chirp he got in answer even as Alphinaud pulled an annoyed face.

“I told you I spent most of my idle time on refining it Alvaar, don’t tease me,” he huffed.

“Well, they’re lovely. Hmm... Can I call you Carbi?” Alvaar asked the summon, tilting his head as the carbuncle’s fox like face looked up at him before chirping again. “Carbi with an I, it is.”

“You can’t be serious...” Alphinaud sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Well, I can’t call it Mooni. That’s just silly.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m not the one that keeps designing cuter and cuter fuzzy pets for battle and then refusing to name them Leveilleur. You did this to yourself. But much as I would like to stay here and chat with you, and I do mean that I’ve rather missed our talks, I should be getting back.” He paused, mulling over the situation before meeting his friend’s eyes. “She asked to stay in my room tonight. If you wanted to talk to her before tomorrow, now might be the time,” he stated, offering an out that he knew the Scholar didn’t miss.

Glancing away in deep thought, Alphinaud sighed. “Knowing my sister if she wanted to talk to me than she would have. I fully expected her to be upset with my attempt to find her after she made it clear she wanted to be left alone. I had just wanted to ensure she was alright, and now I know she is. If she went to see you then that’s where she wishes to be.” Looking up at him, the Scholar gave a genuine if tired smile. “Contrary to my... less charitable reaction earlier... I know if she is with you, she’ll be fine. That’s enough for me. Anything further can be discussed later after we’ve all had some well-earned rest.”

“Sure?” Alvaar asked after a moment.

“Positive.”

“Alright.” Studying the Scholar’s face and the traces of weariness on it, Alvaar reached over to loop an arm around his shoulders and pull him into a one-armed hug. “Promise me you’ll rest? No staying up late for politics and research okay?”

A soft chuckle left the shorter Elezen after a moment. “I assure you my friend, the very next place I’m going to is my suite. ... Just... please take care of my sister.”

“I will. Now then, up you get Carbi. Cute as you are, I’ve a job to do.” The Bard waited as the carbuncle gave him a brief look before slipping off his lap to perch on the stairs with a dutiful if squeaky chirp. “.... Oschon’s bow and staff you’re so damn cute,” he murmured, ruffling the carbuncles fluffy cheeks. “Alphi I like this one. They’re so chatty... little charmer you,” Alvaar crooned, ducking down to press a kiss to the creature’s forehead before hauling himself up to his feet. Giving a last fur smoothing pet to the summon, he started up the stairs towards his room. “Get some rest Alphi. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Of course. Pleasant dreams Alvaar.”

Knocking on the door, Alvaar waited for the muted answer before letting himself in. Remembering to lock it behind him this time, he paused as he stared into the room. It wasn’t particularly difficult to spot Alisaie, especially where she was leaned against the side of the open window in a thin shirt and shorts, staring out into the night and edged in silver light. It only made her long wave of white hair glow even brighter in the dim where she’d freed it from its usual braid.

It wasn’t the first he’d seen it, given their travels and closeness in the past, but it was... different somehow. In a way he couldn’t quite place.

“It’s beautiful. I can only imagine what it must seem like for the people of the First. This would be the first time they’ve ever seen the night sky,” Alisaie mused aloud. “I didn’t think I would ever get used to that oppressive veil of light when we initially arrived. I spent the first few weeks perpetually sleep deprived and out of sorts because of it.” Trailing off a moment, she gave a single humorless laugh. “They used to tease me at the Inn. For patrolling at all the oddest hours. It took me what felt like forever to get used to it. Tesleen... she used to wait up for me, even when I told her not to. She said it was always important to welcome someone back home...”

Hearing the catch in her voice, Alvaar finally trailed closer. Stepping up beside her and meeting Alisaie’s gaze when she looked up at him with a watery and pained smile.

“I had hoped... I’d wanted her to see the night sky. She believed so... so firmly that one day things would be better...” Looking away abruptly she shut her eyes and hugged her arms tighter where they were folded over her chest. Gently thumping her head against the opened shutter, she let out a slow and shuddering breath. “Gods... I failed them Alvaar. A good soul was ripped away and it hurts... That loss and that failure hurts.” Falling quiet with a harsh sniffle she thumped her head against the wood again a bit harder. “Damnit... I’d always known one day I’d have to leave. It wasn’t even anything that serious... nothing there ever could be but... this hurts so much worse than before. It cuts so much deeper...”

Noting where her fingers were dug in against her arms, he tugged her away from the window and pried her hands free. Clasping them in his own and giving her a sympathetic look. “I know.”

“We used to go to the market together,” she continued thoughtlessly after a moment, voice soft even as her hands shook in his grip as she stared at them. “She taught me several recipes. We’d spar together in the early morning before the others woke. We used to stay up all hours talking about anything and everything. Every time another patient was too far gone, she would still smile and reassure them everything would be fine. She would hand them the poisoned food herself and I remember it... I remember her tears against my neck when I held her afterward as she would cry late in the evenings when the others were asleep... I remember the first time we kissed in the shade of those ruins. The way she looked so peaceful when she slept and-” Her words finally clipped off with a choked noise, burying her face against his shirt with a muffled sob.

Releasing her hands so she could grip against the fabric at his back, he settled an arm around her shoulders, gently soothing his free hand through soft glowing strands comfortingly.

“How could you stand this after Haurchefant...? It feels like my heart is ripping in two...” she whispered hoarsely.

That made him still, glancing out the window and into the moonlit night stretching out below…

He flicks his gaze back down to her quickly. “Sometimes I still can’t,” he admitted softly, going back to petting her hair gently. “But we endure. For those we have lost, for those we may yet save. We continue to carry on one way or another. It’s alright. Go ahead and talk. Cry. Whatever you need. I’m here for you Ali. And I promise you, I swear it, we’re going to save these people.”

Alvaar’s eyes are heavy when they’re finally settled back in bed, the Red Mage curled up against his chest quietly as they lay on their sides like before. Once again his arms are looped loose but protectively around her, humming softly out of habit. He almost thinks she’s asleep before Alisaie shifts enough to glance up at him, expression equally tired but still restless.

“What is it from? That tune. You said it was your take on Warden’s Paean. Did you write it yourself?” she asked softly.

“No, just a song my mentor used to sing. ... She was a healer. A White Mage. I tend to think of her when I channel it,” he answered calmly.

“Would you mind singing it?” Alisaie queried carefully. Likely because of how little he’d spoken of the woman in the past, only ever in the bits and pieces of memories as they came back to him.

“Can’t sing on my side like this, it’s bad posture for breathing. But let me lie on my back and I can if you promise to go to sleep.” It’s a pointless bargain when he knows how haunting the first night is himself, but her nod is something at least. Rolling onto his back, he frees the arm that had been slipped under and about her as she shuffles closer again to rest her head against his shoulder and stretch an arm over his chest. Curling his arm high at her back so he can rest his hand against her shoulder.

It reminds him of Ala Mhigo abruptly. That victory that has now been... Gods... how long had it been? Almost a year on the Source now surely but it feels like a weary lifetime and yesterday all at once. When he’d been so tired and soul sick after his multiple clashes against Zenos. The weight of so many attempts, deaths and failures, and the familiar and loving arms that had held him tight in that space between. The familiar gentle voice offering advice and encouragement in those scant moments. How badly, even now, he wanted to let go and let that quiet space keep him safe and warm with the man he loved…

But he couldn’t. Not when the warm press of Alphinaud and Alisaie, curled up against his sides on that overcrowded cot, had seemed to keep his soul chained to his body. Silently reinforced all the reasons he’d needed to stay with the support and companionship of his dearest friends and allies.

“Alvaar?” Alisaie asks softly, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Sorry. Lost in thought. Almost feels like Ala Mhigo... Your brother had been looking for you by the way,” he replies, almost smirking at the expected annoyed huff that leaves her.

“Why am I not surprised... I told him to leave me alone and he can’t very well trust me on that can he the meddling...” she groused, grumbling again as Alvaar chuckled.

“Don’t be mean, he was really worried for you. I would give up a lot of things to have family that cared so much about me,” he reminded gently. Surely Alphinaud hadn’t wanted him to mention it, but he was certain her stoked temper would cool by morning. Perhaps it would even open the way for them to talk. One really couldn’t have too many friends to help them with their grief.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of singing Aldaviir. Quit bringing up distractions,” she grumbled sourly.

“You say that like you’ve never heard me sing before,” he joked.

“I haven’t,” Alisaie returned curtly.

That made him blink, staring at her blankly. “Bullshite. I’m told I scarcely ever shut up in combat.”

“In combat, sure. The practice yard, yes... But that’s more instrument than voice. Whatever use of aether you do to call music without needing to play. But I’ve never heard just you sing...” she argued flatly.

“Lucky you. Alphinaud likely wishes he could have gotten me to shut up.” It’s accompanied with a soft chuckle as he remembers the Scholar’s hastily beaten retreats in the past. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m tired and won’t be projecting properly.”

“I’ll withhold my critique.”

“That’s very kind of you. There’s a long build to it first, let me catch the tune before you get mad at me.” Settling back he studied the ceiling in the dark a moment, taking a few experimental deep breaths before starting to hum again. The same soft tune as he had before, slow and calming, though clearer and stronger now that he could breathe properly.

The lyrics were ones he’d long etched into his heart, and they rolled easy off his tongue on well-practiced habit. Words of comfort, almost like a lullaby, but speaking too deep for the different weariness that could fill a heart. A meaning he had only learned in the many years since, a world away from the echoes of thunder as he’d first heard them. The rasp of rain against treated fabric as he’d clutched into the warmth of Rosa’s robes when he’d been young, fragile, and small with malnourishment. Shivering with fear and chill in the nights storm. Afraid for what might haunt that dark when he couldn’t hear the approach of footfalls in the rain, a warning he’d learned to wake for in his troubled youth.

Rosa hadn’t been anything approaching a Bard. Her voice too untrained to hold the notes proper, more whisper singing than anything... But deep in his heart, as he’d spent many hours since contemplating and perfecting his craft, he knew it must have been the first flicker of Bardsong he’d ever heard. A melody and lyrics that had passed through the years into folksong, changing hands many times like a worn Allagan bronze before it came to him.

Strength. Endurance. Rest and peace in those moments they were most needed. Hope amidst the promise of those words.

All would be well in time.

He’s not surprised to feel her settle further into his side as he sings for her, the faintest bit heavier as the tension in her muscles ease. There are a few hot pinpricks of unconscious tears that sink against his shirt even as she falls asleep, the even and slow rhythm of her breathing an unconscious accompaniment he matches on instinct.

Finishing the last meter, he listens to the notes as they echo in the large room, a soft prickle against his skin that waits like a question. It’s something he’s learned is the hum of Resonance waiting for use, the aether primed from his music ready to find use with his additional skills. He lets it slip away as he closes his eyes, curling a bit closer and fussing the blankets about the young woman buried against his side unconsciously.

There’s a faint... something. A subconscious feeling, a knowing, that stirs in his head sleepily. The same way many of his memories come back to him, suddenly coming to his mind as if stepping free from a fog. But even when he waits it doesn’t reveal itself, and he falls asleep before noticing the other entity in the room. A pale ghost perched on the windowsill, sitting still and quiet with his eternally bloodstained axe shining like a crescent moon in the night.

#wol #warrior of light #alvaar aldaviir #alisaie #alisaie leveilleur #alphinaud #alphinaud leveilleur #dealing with grief #hurt and comfort #oc #writing #mywriting #blatant abuse of bard lore #tesleen mentions #ardbert mentions #Nocturne: A piece written for the night #I just like me some good old fashioned supporting your friends really

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redcrownroses · 5 years ago

Text

Capable: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Summary: You come up with a good robbery job, except there’s one small problem. Arthur won’t let you do it. You decide to disobey and do it either way but things don't turn out the way you expected them to. FLUFF.

Warnings: Injury, blood, mentions of sex

A/N: This is my first contribution to the fandom! I enjoy writing and I’m always nervous when putting my content out there. But anyways! I love Arthur so much!! I had this idea yesterday and decided to try my hand at it. So far I liked how it turned out. It gets pretty fluffy and sweet towards the end. Hope you guys like it, some feedback would also be greatly appreciated :)

—🌹—

“No it’s far too dangerous for ya to go alone.” Arthur warned as he stared at a map in front of him. You were standing to his side, both hands resting flat on the round wooden table.

“I just think that if I were to go around 2 am it wouldn’t be much of a problem. There's only two guards at that time trust me I know what I’m doin’.” Your eyes bore into him though he kept his gaze fixated on the map.

“No.” Arthur said firmly. “Besides Javier and I are already plannin’ a robbery so please Y/N just drop it. I have work to do right now.” He heaved a sigh and ran a hand down his face, eyes flickering towards the small lapping waves of the lake. Approaching footsteps made you both turn your heads towards the source. “Ah Javier you’re back.” Arthur didn’t spare you a glance which only caused you to roll your eyes and stomp away. “What’s up with her?” Javier arched a brow and Arthur shook his head. “Ah ya know how she is. Stubborn as always.” Arthur dismissed the subject with a curt wave of his hand and the two men began planning out their robbery.

You huffed as you stormed into your tent. You’ve been planning this out for a while now and it irked you to a great extent that Arthur immediately dismissed it. You know how to defend yourself and you’ve proven time and again that you were a very capable woman.

Arthur knew that as well. He was just being cautious though. Too cautious this time around. Ever since the both of you started being sweet on one another right after the Blackwater mess you couldn’t help but notice how extra protective he became of you. It was endearing at first, you could admit, but as time passed by it began to bother you. Can’t really blame the man though, he finally found something good and real after everything he’s been through. Losing you would be beyond cruel.

As you sat down on your bedroll and began cleaning your twin pistols you thought about asking Dutch’s opinion on the matter but if he were to find out that Arthur rejected your idea, well, it was more than likely that Dutch would side with his right-hand man. And worse, give that job to someone else. You couldn’t let that happen. This was your goddamn job.

It was then that you decided to go through with it with or without Arthur’s consent.

Like it’s been noted before, you are more than capable of taking care of yourself and pulling through with a job. You gathered all the necessary belongings you were to bring on your trip and took a peek through the flaps of your tent. You watched as the two men conversed by the round table, Arthur’s back facing you. The golden rays of the setting sun reflected on Arthur’s light brown locks, causing a halo like aura to appear around it. He looked like an angel but sometimes he was a demon. Right now he was definitely the latter.

You sighed and looked away. As much as it hurt to disobey like this you just knew that this take would be worth it. The more money, the sooner you can all finally get away from this outlaw life. All you needed was to get your hands on that state bond that was worth some thousand dollars. You were fortunate to have come across a drunken man working as a guard at the place you were gonna rob at the saloon not too long ago.

Draping your satchel over your shoulder, you took one last peek from your tent flaps before proceeding to fix your button up shirt and try to appear nonchalant. You stepped outside and headed towards Pearson’s post where he was happily singing one of his many sailor songs as he chopped away for tonight’s dinner.

“Hey Pearson I’m going into town for a while. Gonna order me a hot bath, gather some new supplies, and snoop around if anyone asks. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” He nodded with a quick wave of his hand and you made your way towards your horse, Mabel, and hopped on.

—🌹—

The ride to Cornwall Kerosene & Tar went just as expected. You arrived within the time period you had predicted and you hardly came across other lone riders on the way. You climbed off of Mabel, patting her and feeding her a sugar cube. “Good girl,” you smiled up at her and continued petting on her muzzle before moving towards the saddlebag and fishing out some canned beans and meat. You were starving and you still had about two hours until you went into action.

You kicked some dirt onto the campfire and climbed onto Mabel. You checked the time, a half hour left until 2. Perfect. You tugged at the reins and guided your horse towards your destination.

It took about five minutes to finally get there and you immediately fished out your binoculars from your satchel and surveyed the area. Just how you expected it. Two guards at the front entrance, one making their way towards the back area.

You hitched Mabel onto a nearby tree and began trekking towards the private property. Once you were closer you took cover behind a large wooden crate.

Just then a guard began rounding the corner and you silently peeked from behind the crate, thankful that there wasn’t good lighting in that area. He quickly scanned the vicinity before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up.

You weren’t sure how long he was gonna stay there and began formulating some plan to get past him when all of a sudden you heard the other guard calling for him, apparently he ran out of cigarettes of his own. Guess you just got lucky there. You couldn’t help but feel a bit cocky about that as you stood up and slinked towards the door.

Upon approaching the upstairs office, you quietly began searching the place for the piece of paper. You searched and searched but you still found nothing. So much for luck. You heaved a soft sigh as you brushed back some flyaways from your forehead. Your eyes landed on a pretty painting hanging on the wall on your right. You knitted your brows together as a thought came across your mind and you stepped towards it.

You brought your hands up and lifted the painting, you didn’t expect it to be quite heavy and almost dropped it. Breathing heavily, heart pumping quickly, you set it down on the floor carefully before looking back up at the safe box. You grinned. Now to get it open. As you worked your way through it you didn’t hear one of the guards coming upstairs until it was too late.

“Hey! Stop right there!” You whipped around, eyes wide as dinner plates as the guard pointed his repeater at you. You immediately raised your hands up in surrender. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

You were fast as you dodged behind the desk and the guard began to open fire, alerting the other one downstairs. There were some more gunshots and you managed to distribute some of your own. The guard ducked and backed out of the room to take some cover behind the adjacent wall. You took this opportunity to fire a few rounds at the wall and when your heard a yell you knew you hit your target. You then bolted towards the window and opened it. Turning sideways, you swiftly swung a leg out but before you could climb out completely the other guard came into view and fired at you.

You let out a yelp as you climbed completely out the window, stumbling as you tried to steady yourself. The searing pain now coursed through the right side of your waist. You brought a hand over it and felt your blood immediately soaking your hand. This was bad. Your heard one of the guards yelling and boots stalking towards the window. Without a moment's hesitation you fired a couple of rounds towards the window as you backed up, eyes roaming around you wildly.

You weren’t sure how you were gonna get down. That is until you heard a couple of gunshots coming from inside the building. Your features pulled back in bewilderment as you backed up against the wall behind you for support. When the gunfire ceased and the only sound heard was those of the insects, you finally allowed yourself to slide down the wall and onto the wooden planks of the roof beneath you.

“Y/N?” The familiar voice filled your ears, and although it was rough and filled with concerned you couldn’t help but smile faintly. “A-Arthur,” you managed to utter weakly. You felt yourself lose strength as the moments passed by. You heard heavy footsteps as they neared the window. Finally you heard him again, this time calling your name firmly as he climbed out the window. You could barely muster enough strength to lift your head up towards him. You felt heavy and you fought hard to keep your eyelids open.

“Arthur,” you whispered softly, half lidded eyes flickering towards him as he hastily knelt down in front of you. “I—”

He cut you off softly. “Shhh.”

He immediately removed your hand from your wound and examined it. It was a good thing that the roof area there was well lit by one of the light posts.

Arthur emitted a soft sigh of relief as he met your eyes again. “It’s only a graze but you’re bleeding so much. Needa apply some pressure on it.” He spoke softly.

He hurriedly dug through his satchel and took out his bandana before unfolding it to the cleaner area. Despite your hazy state you still noticed that Arthur’s hands were slightly trembling.

“Here.” He placed it on your side with applied pressure and you let out a whimper as you shut your eyes tightly and gritted your teeth. “You’re gonna be okay, darlin’. You could get through this you’re strong.” He reassured you softly (and at the same time he was also reassuring himself). It helped you calm down a substantial amount.

A small smile stretched across your pale lips. “I know.” That was the last thing you managed to say before everything went black.

—🌹—

Everything and everywhere ached. You slowly opened your eyes and saw him staring down at you, a sturdy hand entwined with yours. He smiled affectionately and brought your hand up to plant a soft kiss at the back, his other hand caressing your thigh that was covered with a blanket.

“Ya gave me quite a scare back there, darlin’.” It was almost a whisper and you noticed the slight tremor in his voice. His ocean colored eyes were filled with relief but there was also sorrow. It broke your heart witnessing that.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked. Arthur shook his head. “You’re safe now.” It was then that your eyes traveled around the room you were in, confusion setting in. Arthur couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at how adorable you looked at that moment.

“We’re at the doctor's in Valentine. Wasn’t sure if ya were gonna make the ride here but you were a trooper.”

You tried to sit up but immediately felt pain surging through the right side of your waist. It spread like wildfire across your abdomen. “Don’t.” Arthur warned as he gently placed a flat hand on your stomach. “You’re not gonna be moving for a while.” You frowned momentarily and inspected your patched up wound before looking back at him.

“How—How did you know?” Arthur smoothed out the white sheets over your body before his gaze settled onto you.

“I saw you ride out and when Pearson told me you were goin’ into town I knew immediately that was a lie, otherwise you wouldn’t be traveling the opposite direction.” He looked down as he caressed your hand in his.

“So you knew then.�� It was a statement rather than a question and Arthur simply nodded.

“I dropped everythin’ and immediately rode out. Had a bad feelin’.” You swallowed thickly and felt a pang of guilt. You should have listened to him. Never again would you let your pride get in the way like this.

“I almost had it,” you spoke quietly. “I swear I did. I just don’t know what happened, why the guard decided to check upstairs at that time. But none of that matters anymore, I guess. I was bein’ foolish. Prideful. And I should’ve listened to you. I guess what I was trying to do was prove myself.” You looked away. “In a way I deserved that.” You felt tears coating your eyes, threatening to cascade at any given movement. Arthur’s hold on your hand tightened.

“No you didn’t, darlin’. You almost died out there—I almost lost ya. I was so scared. And yeah you were acting like a fool goin’ behind my back but never say you deserve something like that ya hear? And darlin’,” his voice grew softer. “I know that you are capable. I’ve seen you fight. You have it in you. Don’t ever think that I’m doubtin’ you because I’m not and I sure as hell never will.”

A single tear rolled down the side of your cheek and Arthur was swift in wiping it away with his thumb, coaxing you to turn and face him afterwards.

“But that wasn’t the only reason ya know,” you uttered softly. He nodded and caressed your jaw.

“I promise ya that we’re gonna get out of this. We’ll find some more money somewhere else and then we can finally build our lives together the way we’ve been wanting to.”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Upon hearing those words the tears began flowing. “Out west?” He nodded, lips curving into a loving smile and you returned the gestured as you sniffled. “Living in a ranch?”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, we’ll own a nice lil ranch. And best of all we’ll be married.”

You giggled softly before speaking again. “And have some mini Arthurs running’ ‘round the house.” He leaned forward slowly, gazing affectionately at you with a smile still gracing his features.

“And mini Y/Ns too, playin’ everywhere.” His lips met yours tenderly, fingers grazing your jaw before moving up to cup your cheek. You reveled in the moment as he lavished you with sweet, tender kisses. If it were physically possible you would melt right there and then in his strong hold.

You raked your fingers through his hair and down his neck as the kiss gradually deepened. After a few more moments you pulled back, your breathing labored along with Arthur’s from the activity. “It’s too bad I won’t be able to move or do anything for a while,” you teased and bit your lip as your gaze fell onto his torso, your hands caressing his chest and feeling the muscles underneath his flannel shirt.

“You teasing me, woman?” Arthur’s voice rumbled deeply, the vibrations could be felt on your palms.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait until I’m fully healed.”

Arthur shook his head though there was a smirk that formed on his lips. He leaned down once again, lips hovering over yours and barely brushing up against them in a tantalizing manner.

“We’ll find a way...” his voice dropped dangerously low and like a switch it instantly fueled your core. His lips finally met yours in a fervent yet gentle manner. It was endearing how he could be so gentle.

This big scary outlaw was the softest and purest man you’d ever met. Truly, he possessed a heart of gold. And he was yours and you were his. You felt like the luckiest woman on earth. As the both of you continued your sweet romantic endeavor, for a moment you thought that maybe you did die back there and this was the afterlife.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur x reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2fanfic #rdrfanfic #read dead redemption 2 fanfic #i'm soft #my writing

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gwentoryfics · 6 years ago

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pentagon imagine: boyfriend habits

REPOSTED FROM MY ORIGINAL BLOG, GWENTAGON.

i was just doing a little bit of thinking about what habits each of the guys would develop as your boyfriend, so here we are.

JINHO

- jinho always looks at you longer than he should, but he just can’t help it because he thinks you’re so beautiful. besides, he likes the way you blush when you catch his eyes on you. - he picks up small gifts for you frequently because he always comes across things that make him think of you. he spoils you with your favorite candies and snacks, and frequently purchases cute stationary to encourage you to write him letters. - he also enjoys sharing food with you, so that you can feed each other. he likes to be taken care of just as much as he enjoys taking care of you.

HUI

- he’s the kind of guy who rests his hand on your lower back to guide you. He lets you go first so he can keep an eye on you, not wanting you to ever feel left behind. - he’s also touches you every time he laughs, either grabbing your arm, hand, leg, basically whatever is available to him at the time. extra grabs if you’re the one making him laugh. - he’s always anticipating your needs by getting you a glass of water in case you’re thirsty or a blanket in case you’re cold. you don’t really have to ask for anything because he can always tell what you need. - he has a verbal habit of immediately and consistently saying “we” instead of “me.” the two of you are a package deal now, and he’s not afraid to let everyone know it. - he’s constantly asking if he can help you with things, whether it’s cleaning, cooking… you know, little domestic things. it’s not because he thinks you’re not capable - it’s because he wants you to know that he’s there to support you in all ways, always.

HONGSEOK

- no such thing as getting a regular hug from hongseok. he always has to pick you up and swing you around in a show of his strength (and to make you laugh). - he’ll pinch your cheeks whenever he thinks you’re being cute, which is basically all the time. - he’s a big time hand holder. absolutely loves holding hands, regardless of whether or not your fingers are intertwined. as long as he can feel your palm against his, everything is alright. - he’ll hold your hand while walking, driving, sitting, cuddling… you get the picture. - he’s a cup-your-face kinda guy, for sure - and the wink-at-you-from-across-the-room type

E’DAWN

- obviously he’s a real snuggle bug - he probably likes to touch your hips a lot, no matter what size you are. I just feel like he’s probably drawn to that specific area for some reason lol - like he sneaks up behind you, rests his chin on your shoulder, and rubs your hip bones with his thumbs - or puts his hands on your waist to move you whenever he needs to squeeze past you - since he’s so touchy, he definitely appreciates and compliments you on your super soft skin - freshly shaved & moisturized legs are his vice - he plays with your fingers when you’re just sitting around, especially if you’re reading or playing a game or otherwise not giving him attention

SHINWON

- you can’t walk anywhere with this man without his arm draped over your shoulders. and he fully expects your arm to be around his waist. together, you two become masters at synchronized walking to avoid that awkward ‘bump’ of out of sync steps. - he absentmindedly plays with your earrings and clothing when you’re just hanging out. especially if you’re wearing long, dangly earrings or a hoodie with strings. - whenever you two go anywhere together, he’s always quick to get out his phone or a camera to snap a cute picture of you, so he can preserve just how cute you look that day - and his phone is full of videos he secretly takes of you while you’re singing in the car or goofing off. he knows you’d be embarrassed if you knew about the videos, but you’re just so precious that he can’t help himself.

YANAN

- yanan is so honest, almost painfully so, about literally everything between the two of you. which is a good thing because it leads to all sorts of deep conversations that wouldn’t happen otherwise, but he does come off as a little too blunt sometimes - but at the end of the day his brutal honesty means that literally everything he says and does is genuine, so when he gets (inevitably) sappy, you know it’s from a place of truth - he’s all about words and communication, so expect him to say all sorts of sweet things that are maybe a bit mushier than they should be - like he’s the type to say “the only thing i want to change about you is your last name” and it wouldn’t even be cheesy coming from him - also the type to give you little pats on the head when you do well (although bigger accomplishments would certainly warrant a bigger celebration)

YEO ONE

- yeo one likes touching your hair. he tucks it behind your ear, or gently plays with your curls. he’s the kind of guy that actively asks to braid your hair and wants to practice on you all the time after you teach him how. - he also seems like the kind of guy who orders extra food when you say you don’t want any, because he knows you’ll change your mind and want some anyway. - always gives you bunny ears whenever the two of you take selfies - likes to shop for and wear couples outfits because why wouldn’t he want to match the love of his life?

YUTO

- BACK HUGS - yuto would be a fan of kissing the top of your head. since he’s so tall, it’s a discreet way for him to show affection without being too lovey-dovey. especially in conjunction with BACK HUGS. - he frequently shows up at your place unexpected because he misses you, although he’ll never admit that’s the real reason for his visit. - he leaves little surprises for you to find when he’s not around, because he’s too shy to give gifts to you directly. - like you find a cute little plush on your bed and you’re all like, how did that get there? - and eventually your roommate spills and tells you that yuto asked her for a favor - and when you bring it up with him he’s all like, i’ve never seen that thing in my life - DID I SAY BACK HUGS

KINO

- your pockets are his pockets and there’s nothing you can do about it. his hands will find their way into your hoodie pockets, your jeans pockets, your dress pockets. - even if it’s just casually hooking a finger or two into the front pocket of your shorts while you’re talking, he just loves that it gives him an excuse to be close to you. - he definitely, 100%, without a doubt, is the type of guy to text you goodnight every single night, even if the two of you are fighting. and you bet your little patootie that you’re getting a good morning text as soon as he wakes up. - also the type to call you when he knows you can’t answer, just to leave you a cute voicemail

WOOSEOK

- back scratches for dayyyyssss - literally any time the two of you are snuggled up together, his hand is gonna be running up and down your back, either as a light caress, a rub, or a full scratch. you’re like a little puppy to him and he loves the way you sigh happily whenever he pets you. - also, he lives to see you in his oversized sweatshirts. he’s all about those sweater paws. - he habitually lays his head in your lap because receiving head scratches from you is his absolute favorite - gives you piggy back rides literally all the time

REPOSTED FROM MY ORIGINAL BLOG, GWENTAGON.

#pentagon imagines #jinho #hui #hwitaek #hongseok #e'dawn #hyojong #shinwon #yanan #yeoone #changgu #yeo one #yan an #yuto #kino #hyunggu #wooseok #boyfriend pentagon #imagines

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mimiplaysgames · 6 years ago

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in the shape of a star (1/5)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Word Count: 8,168

Summary: They have their home, and they have each other. What they need to build a new life is to find proper footing. But some things are still too difficult to talk about.

Read on AO3.

A/N: Shout out to @lorelei-melodei, who put in the time to research lisianthus, which are flowers that look similar to the ones found on Eraqus’ wreath (and I thought their meaning was so amazing I just had to use that information - I think it’s something everyone in the fandom should accept haha). Also to @lyssala for being my emotional support animal. I wouldn’t have carried on without your support and your listening ear, so thank you for your patience and understanding. <333 And OF COURSE to @holyteapotofrussell who was my beta for this. Your spouts of genius were needed to make this happen and I’m so grateful. Thank you.

cheers

Aqua knew (rationally) she was safe in her bedroom.

The lamp on her bedside table and the ceiling light were both on. Her closet was closed shut. A white sheet draped over the vanity mirror - so her reflection couldn’t bother her. She may not be able to see the shadows under her furniture, but she did frequent checks under bed and dresser to make sure nothing was stirring. And after the hours ticked by she understood that there was, truly, nothing. Now she questioned whether she was relieved or disappointed.

By this point, her patience had sunk to her feet and there was no cure for the stillness.

Thankfully, she heard a soft tap on her window. Several more followed, raindrops trickling down her window panes. Judging by how sparse they were, it was misty outside.

If anyone had seen her, they’d notice how desperately she tore the window open, breathing the scent of a fresh mountain morning in the middle of the night. The fog was thin, but enough to blanket the castle and block the stars from view. Her arm reached out into the sky, catching droplets. They were so cold, they tickled as they splattered upon impact.

The Realm of Darkness did its best work in making her numb to all sensation, usually leaving just bare minimum to trick her into enduring for just a little longer, and yet taking it all away so that she wouldn’t go crazy.

Feeling the mist was a welcome sign that for one, she was alive, and two, she was free. And she already knew this, too. They had all been back in the Land of Departure for weeks now. Yet she needed the reminder. The feel of the rain on her skin was so foreign now, it was almost new.

She decided it was a good excuse as any not to keep this to herself.

Her boys did her the favor every night of turning the lights on in the castle in the most common areas. Ventus would make laps to power them, Terra took the duty very late at night to turn them off once everyone else was asleep. The halls, the intersecting ones included, illuminated so brightly, the only shadow she could see was her own.

Voices trailed off from Ventus’ room. Laughter, pleads. What sounded like jokes. His door was slightly ajar, and she peeked in.

It wasn’t a surprise that Terra was shoving Ventus down into the pillow, using his face like a lever.

“Ven, have mercy. I’m tired.” Terra plopped into a lounge chair, resting his foot at the edge of the bed.

Ventus had the decency not to spring back up, but he rolled over to lean closer, finding reasons to keep going. “But did you think about what I said? About Merlin?”

“Yes.” There was no effort in hiding his amused annoyance.

“And?”

Terra didn’t face her, but she felt his eyes rolling and his smile pulling. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“Oh, come on.” He squirmed, begging Terra to stay when he stood up.

“You could make it easier for yourself-”

“I hate tea.” It was usually the suggestion: drink herbal tea to calm the nerves.

Terra snorted. “Then count sheep.” He was closer to the door, his voice louder.

“That sounds really boring.”

“That’s the point.”

It was then that Ventus’ face fell, knowing his night was cut short. Aqua stood back as she felt Terra approach, not wanting to see him flick the lights off. She heard a gentle, yet firm “good night, Ven” before his face made its way through the doorway.

A benign smile graced it. Terra always carried himself with a gentleness that betrayed how intimidating others thought of him. Even when he joked around. “Do you need to be tucked in, too?”

“A six-year-old me would’ve loved that.” She pressed her ear to the door. Ventus rustled in his sheets, sighing. He hasn’t improved much in getting rest, and they were out of options. “I wish I could cast Sleep on him.”

“Master Aqua wants to give her apprentice a magic addiction.” It earned him a swat on his chest. “He’ll be fine. Hearing us talk will calm him down.”

Because it told him they would still be around when he closed his eyes.

When they first came back, they were happy to stay up and talk the night away, not stopping until their bodies gave up. Soon after, when the lack of rest affected them too much, Terra and Aqua took turns staying by his side until he slept, just so he was sure he wasn’t going to be left alone.

“Do you think maybe we should get him a companion?” she asked.

“Like a pet?” He eyed her, waiting for her response first before giving his input. Normally, deciding changes in the castle was up to Master Eraqus. They kept forgetting they were its keepers now.

“Maybe not.” The Master usually refused to bring in an animal, and it felt like betraying his memory to suggest such a thing.

“He’s strong. He just needs time.” Terra’s voice softened, steadfast.

That was always the assumption. Time was a special kind of magic that would heal them. That would make sleep come. That would turn them back into the Keyblade wielders they all wanted to be. But they were still waiting.

“He checks in on us in the middle of the night to make sure we’re still here,” she said.

Terra let out a long, exasperated sigh. His eyes said it all. Seriously?

She nodded. Seriously.

“We’ll figure it out,” he assured her. “What about you?”

She crossed her arms. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” he said with all the benefit of the doubt that he could give her and yet with the knowledge she was lying.

It must have been how she pursed her lips that gave her away. “It’s nothing. I just… I can’t sleep, either.”

He chuckled breathily, pinching his tired eyes. “I appreciate that you don’t beat around the bush. Come on, let’s take care of you.”

When they entered his room, his first order of business was to fling a random sheet that he didn’t bother to fold over his mirror. Then he kicked a pile of clothes that were in the way into his bathroom, where the lights were off, and closed that door.

“My room is now darkness-proof,” he teased.

A steaming pot of tea he brewed for himself waited for him on his desk, right alongside another heap of clothes, open books stacked on top of each other, several pens that he kept piling for every time he lost one, and deodorant. He poured into his mug and handed it to her.

“One of these days, I’ll make you regret saying that.” Apple, with a hefty sum of lavender and chamomile, and a small dash of mint; no sugar. She may be the better cook, but Terra always made the best teas.

“Please, you’re too nice to me to try.” He took his mug out of her hands and drank a huge gulp like he needed it just as much.

She swatted at him. He caught her wrist. Terra engulfed her hand in his while he kept the other stretched across her forearm in an effort to warm her up.

“Why are you so cold?”

She stopped herself from laughing, but it still escaped through her nose. It was the arm she let outside. “It’s raining.”

He understood. His large hands caressed the cold away, and he didn’t say anything in return. She didn’t have to explain herself either.

Twelve years too long with all feeling stolen from them gave them a perspective they only shared with each other. The smallest things imaginable – a bright color, the smell of coffee, the taste of toothpaste – was a new adventure that for anyone else was negligible.

Much like the feel of his calloused palms on her skin. It gave her goosebumps, and he lingered even when she wasn’t cold anymore.

Aqua moved closer to slip an arm around his waist. Being enveloped in his warmth suddenly made it okay for her to breathe. The pressure on her back as he pulled her in, the weight of his head on hers – these were the smaller things they took for granted beforehand, when friendship made these gestures seem trivial. And they were still friends - maybe something more, but the sorts of conversations she’d have to start to get them there always made her wonder if it was too much too fast. If she was even ready for it.

They hadn’t even started a routine for Keyblade training yet. They hadn’t talked about what they were going to do with their lives, or whether to consider Terra a Master or how she was going to teach Ventus. Nothing was normal anymore, and maintaining the friendship that she missed so much was the closest thing.

She was grateful there were at least some things that could be done instead of saying anything. Like holding him. They could wait in between friendship and something else and enjoy it anyway.

In this ambiguity, they could pretend the nights weren’t dark and nothing ever happened. And she hoped disillusion would be gentle when it throttled them back into reality.

“I’m waiting,” he said. She felt his smile in her hair.

“For what?”

“For you to tell me what it is you need.”

She scoffed, holding him tighter. If only her bed was this comfortable. “I want to sleep here.” She pulled away from him, but not far enough so that she was still in his arms. “I couldn’t ask for that, though. I can’t let you turn the lights off.”

Terra replied the only way Terra would – with an encouraging smirk. “I don’t mind.”

“No, really, it sucks to sleep with them on.”

“I highly doubt my lamp will burn through my eye sockets.” His smile didn’t change but it was getting obnoxious and she realized she really hated to need.

“Terra-”

“Aqua.” The way he said it warned her he was ready and willing to drag this for as long as she was. Then he softened. “I want you to stay.”

He only let her go to lazily arrange his sheets before getting into the bed and making space for her. Aqua considered for a second if she could tolerate the darkness for his sake, but the nausea in her stomach wouldn’t allow it.

“Aqua,” he repeated, patting the mattress.

Raindrops patted on his window, but they were so soft they were quiet against the sound of his comforter wrapping around her. His warmth was better than all of the layered blankets she could pile. She buried her face in his shirt, focusing on the scent of sandalwood and using his pecs to keep her eyes away from the light.

He rubbed her back, and she lessened the tension in her shoulders. This wasn’t the first time she slept on his bed. They used to slip into each other’s rooms to finish conversations on their pillows when the Master barked at them to go to bed. Holding him this close was certainly a milestone.

It was probably the first time she relaxed today. She wasn’t sure; she wasn’t the best at keeping herself in check.

But she braced herself when his door opened.

And Ventus threw himself so hard onto the bed that Terra groaned when he buckled under the weight.

“Thought you could lose me so easily?” The grin on Ventus’ face was impish.

She wanted to throw him out for interrupting, but she couldn’t bring herself to reject him.

“Ven,” Terra snapped, angrier than she was to have the moment disturbed. “I can’t believe this.”

“Your bed is the biggest for a sleepover.” Ventus scooched over to Terra’s other side, wiggling for room.

It disappointed her to feel Terra roll over to lie on his back, but he pulled her by the waist to keep her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, letting herself smile at Ventus who was making himself comfortable on Terra’s bicep.

“Ven, you’re always wanted,” she said, knowing who would be the one to get annoyed.

“I know I am.” Something about the way he said it told her that he probably knew what was going on between his best friends.

“Shut up and sleep.” Terra poked at him, not caring to look where he was aiming.

Ventus snickered as he swatted away.

Terra grunted to all of his incessant requests for conversation.

No one bothered to ask why all the lights were on.

Aqua didn’t remember the last word she heard.

She woke up alone.

The bed was cold in the areas she didn’t occupy. She was carefully tucked in, and they had the courtesy to leave the lights on while they let her catch up on sleep, all of which faded under the sun shining through the window.

The second best thing Aqua looked forward to since leaving the Realm of Darkness was being able to eat again. Spices, burnt charcoal, savory flavors – all were perfectly good reasons to wake up every day. She even went out of her way to find recipes just to keep herself in the kitchen.

Today’s dinner was special: red pork stew boiled with corn, left to simmer for several hours in a mixture made of chili peppers.

She rubbed her arms against the blue silk robe she was wearing as she wallowed in the aroma, the fabric like a soft cloud against her skin.

There was at least three more hours before it finished. Smelling it was so intoxicating, she didn’t bother to react when she heard footsteps passing through the dining room, making their way to the stove stop. Terra found his side next to her, moaning as he inhaled the aroma.

“Every time I think none of this is real,” he sighed, “food slaps me right back.”

Aqua hummed in agreement. “It’s the Master’s favorite. I thought we could have this to commemorate him.”

He smiled morosely. “That’s a good idea. Are you making something sweet for him, too?”

“That’s hard considering…” She gestured to him. Terra was never a fan of the dessert.

“Lemon sherbet’s not bad.” Typical Terra. Only tolerated fruits that were sour. “Don’t add sugar, please.”

His smile grew in sincerity, his mind caught in subjects that were more pleasant. He was well-rested today, his eyes calm as though he didn’t have nightmares these past couple of days. If there hadn’t been a Keyblade War, or a decade of possession, this was what Terra looked like on a normal day.

Maybe he would be the foundation they needed to keep grounded for a day like today.

She started to disrobe herself. Her boys were used to seeing her dressed this way, or sometimes in a simple shirt and trousers. Hair brushed messily, she was sure. It was the easiest to wear without a mirror.

But she made an effort this morning to dress more appropriately. Under her robe, she wore her usual uniform that represented her status as a student and Master of the academy where she grew up.

“Can you tell me if I look okay?” she asked, fiddling with her straps and checking to make sure her corset was still straight.

Terra first cleared his throat. Which was, also, typical. He was usually defiant when it came to prompts over her looks. Not because he thought it was petty, but because it flustered him. If only he was more direct about it.

He nodded in approval, though with a twist to his smile and a twitch to his left eyebrow.

“I saw that,” she said. “Spill it, mister.”

“You look like you dressed without a mirror.” He spoke with compassion and patience.

They all knew she couldn’t bring herself see her reflection, and yet pointing it out was uncomfortable. She messed with her straps again, blind to what she really needed to do, but going ahead with it anyway because it was easier than responding to him.

Terra approached her and adjusted her straps in silence, as if keeping quiet about it helped to hide the embarrassment. He straightened out her sleeves, careful not to squeeze her too much. He looked her over and pulled on one of her hip sashes, measuring them with his hands until he convinced himself they were even.

Standing back up, his gaze went over her head. With one hand on her chin – it was impressive how much he stayed warm - he brushed through her hair with the other. She had forgotten how he looked when he was focused. It wasn’t as intense as it would be if they were sparring, but he always let himself get carried away with the same integrity of his furrowed brows as he moved strands that were out of place. When it was this sunny, his dark eyes looked bluer.

Usually, being caught staring at him like this would force her to find excuses to look elsewhere and pretend she was minding her own business. But this time it was comfortable. He became absent-minded in what he was doing and studied her eyes, too. He smiled.

A door closed, and it broke their contact. Terra whispered that she looked good now as Ventus made his way into the kitchen, carrying a large bouquet of wildflowers in one arm and a fistful of wire.

The pause before he spoke was too conspicuous, like he was about to ask what the hell they were doing.

“You guys aren’t the only ones living in this castle,” he reminded them. Terra shot him a look, but he was proud of what he said. “Is there going to be dessert, too?”

“Lemon sherbet,” Aqua said.

He looked as though she just fed him trash and expected him to be okay with it. “You did that for Terra, didn’t you? You’re such an enabler.”

He placed the flowers and the wire onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, and she was grateful to have something to change the subject. The flowers varied through gentle whites and purples, and were soft to the touch. Their fragrance was delicate and faint. They were completely unlike the ones in the Realm of Darkness, which would disappear the moment she approached them.

“They’re beautiful,” she said.

“They’re called lisianthus,” Ventus said. “I read in a book that they represent appreciation.”

Terra pulled out a butcher’s knife to shorten the stems. “They’re perfect.”

“Thanks.” Ventus trailed off, averting his gaze between the wire he was curving and Aqua, who was twisting it around the flowers. What he was going to ask was obvious. “You sure about this?”

“We’ve already talked about it,” was her answer.

Which was an understatement. They had gone in circles discussing it.

She fought for twelve years, and she was tired.

There was nothing in the castle that could harm her, even on the nights when she was terrified she’d be swallowed back to the Realm of Darkness.

There wasn’t a point or a reason or a meaning to the fear, and the days she spent locked in her head were taken away from her forever. She wanted them back.

It wasn’t necessary for her to rely on the Keyblade. She did summon it – once – on poor Ventus. He didn’t mean to sneak up on her like that.

It also wasn’t fair to Terra or Ventus, who deserved to memorialize their father figure, too. The longer she kept the Master’s Defender, the longer she was stalling.

And she wanted to cook all of her favorite recipes. She was still re-discovering rooms in the castle she had forgotten about. She wanted to smell perfumes, wake up every morning to her friends’ voices, remember what it was like when they were companions and nothing else. No fighting. No darkness.

At least until she was ready to carry the burden of the Keyblade again.

“We still haven’t found your Keyblade,” Ventus said.

That was another thing. She left Stormfall with Xehanort, and she was in no hurry to follow his trail. Especially with Terra. It was too soon to replay the nightmare that caused all of this to begin with. For once it would be good to build a life where Xehanort had no existence or relevance.

“I don’t really need it.” She tried to sound confident.

“But what if something happens?”

Terra placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Nothing is going to happen, the castle is safe.” It didn’t prove to be entirely convincing, and before he was interrupted, he continued, “she has us.”

It was valiant of Terra to support her, but he did so out of obligation. He had already voiced his own concerns, and was the one most determined to find Stormfall. Because he owed it to her, he had said.

She’d rather he support her by staying safe at home, not thinking about or doing anything related to Xehanort.

What she hated the most, though, was seeing Ventus worry this much. She ran her palm through his hair, offering a lazy smile. “It would be in your best interest if you remember that I can throw a mean kick.”

He fiddled with the wire, carefully choosing which flower he was going to pick at next. When the both of them pressured him, he eventually gave in without much leverage of his own. So he joined them on making the wreath.

The sunset was both welcoming and discomforting, as though it was preparing to sleep alongside the Keyblade she was letting go of. In an imaginary world, Eraqus rode it far away, giving them one last gesture of good will. But at least the sun would come back home.

They chose a spot close by the entrance to the castle, on a cliff side where it opened to the mountain ranges beyond. Eraqus was usually the first one to greet each of them, and while they were trained to wake up fresh when the sun rose, they never understood the secret behind his love for mornings. Here, he would be the first to welcome them back. It would also make it easy for them to say hello every time they’d have to leave.

The Defender stood in her hands, and she hesitated. Twelve years was a lot to just leave on the ground.

“Does anyone remember the words?” she asked. Maybe if they treated it like a proper funeral, it would make the closure more real, and she’d be willing to unwind her fingers.

Ventus kept a hard gaze at the wreath he was holding, which was thick and vibrant. A proper crown for someone who deserved to wear it.

Terra cleared his throat, and pursed his lips as he drifted away in thought. He let his mouth hang before he began:

“He awoke the day he was gifted. The kingdom shone brighter Under his servitude, So long as his heart never faltered. On this day, his star expired. When the sky goes dark, He returns. To light, To rest.”

It was a pleasant delivery, a nail on the coffin. But being ready to start a new life didn’t make it any easier to tear from an old one. Aqua gripped the hilt harder, bringing it to her forehead.

“I wouldn’t have survived without you,” she said to it, and fought the tears.

Fruitlessly. She snapped back to reality when Terra rubbed her shoulder.

“He was so proud of you,” he said softly, certain it was the truth. And of course it would be, considering he spent the last decade protecting his heart and that of the Master. Whenever he talked about it, he always did so calmly, like he found solace with the Master’s heart in the middle of his despair.

She smiled and the remaining tears fell to her lips since they had nowhere else to go. She wanted to say that the Master was proud of him too, but didn’t want to come across as assuming. If there was a sense of fulfillment, Terra would already know.

With one final grip, like a good-bye hug, she struck the ground with the tip of the Keyblade, pushing downward to give it just enough security. It still took her time to unwrap her fingers, but with each stroke of movement, she felt the energy disappear. It became a part of her as much as she had given herself to it, blending their energies together in a union. A Keyblade was an extension of their hearts, so there was no denying this one took from hers.

And once she finally let go, that piece of her was gone with the rest. She was still Master Aqua without it and without the Realm of Darkness. But she expected it to make her feel better.

Ventus settled the wreath on the hilt with the gentleness of someone holding a priceless treasure. “I wish we could give him something more meaningful.”

“Ven, the wreath is wonderful,” she said, sniffling. “What more do you want?”

“I don’t know. I just want him to stay.”

That was the funny thing about loss. It crept on them even when they understood well enough that it would stay with them forever. For Terra, when he accidentally served an extra plate of breakfast. For Aqua, when she had a question. For Ventus, when he wasn’t ordered to stay still.

“You don’t think he’s still connected to us?” Terra said. “I mean, you can’t walk an inch of the castle without remembering him.”

It was genius, and he didn’t know it.

“Our Wayfinders,” she said, pulling hers from her hip. A blue as deep as her will and faith.

“Give them to the Master?” Terra pulled his out of his pocket, dusting it off even though he held it every day. A fiery orange that paled in comparison to his bravery. “They did bring us back together. I actually like to think of them as a lucky charm.”

Ventus’ was a vibrant green that mixed his youth and reliability. “Aqua was the glue that held us.”

“You make that sound so sappy,” she said.

“Because it is.”

“… Should I have made one for the Master?”

“Well,” Terra said, “I think our Wayfinders were there when we needed them. When we were breaking apart.”

“Maybe that’s the point.” Ventus held his out with both hands like he was honoring it. “We won’t break apart again, even when we’re separated. So we don’t really need them anymore.”

It was a beautiful thought, and her eyes were wet again. Though she was the only one near tears; she saw her boys slowly lift their spirits like they were finally making strides from all the tears they had shed when they first arrived to an empty castle.

“They could light our way home,” Ventus said.

“The Master was home,” she said. Perfect.

“And they’ll help us find him again,” Terra said, “when it’s our turn.”

When it was their turn, and they needed a guide to wherever they would head next.

That was the agreement. Hold the Wayfinders over their hearts first, before laying them on the wreath. It made the memorial look… complete. Stars to guide them home. Perhaps this was how closure was supposed to feel - released. Finished. Like the end of a good story.

“I think you’re better at being strict,” Terra said to her as they walked back to the castle.

“Where is this coming from?”

“Someone’s gotta lay down the law when we have students of our own. The castle also needs to survive… but I don’t think I’m cut out for that kind of job.” He crossed his arms and made himself look taller, imitating the Master. “Push the darkness down – give it no quarter in your heart.”

His voice was shaky and his intimidation was false, as though he was terrified of scaring the imaginary person he was talking to.

She snorted. “It sounds so weird coming out of your mouth.”

“But you can totally pull it off.”

Their laughter was contagious, much like how the Master would have preferred it. It was comforting to the point that it took them a while to notice that Ventus wasn’t even near them.

In fact, he staggered far behind, talking to himself. No, he was talking to something.

It wasn’t until Terra called him over that she saw what he was carrying. A large striped, gray cat, which was completely rare to see walking around in the mountains.

And it wore a cape and a pink coin purse around its neck… not the sight she was expecting right after a funeral.

“You’re picking up strays, now?” Terra rested his hands on his hips.

“My name is Chirithy,” the cat said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She didn’t know what was more shocking. Though if she had to decide, it would be the fact that its voice was so high-pitched, it squeaked like two rubbery gears. And that face – so round and unassuming.

“It talks?” At this point, Terra dropped his hands.

“Isn’t he great?” Ventus nuzzled the animal(?) and it reciprocated, bouncing in his arms like it had just been reunited with its master after a long day apart. It even included a rolling giggle, like it was being tickled.

“Yeah, but what is he?”

“I am Chirithy,” was the answer.

She had no idea what a Chirithy was, and from the look Terra gave her, he was hoping for an answer, too.

“Chirithy…” she said out loud, unsure where to start. “Ven, you’re not curious why it talks or where it comes from?”

He shrugged. “He’s cool. I like him.”

“I was displaced from the war,” Chirithy said.

The fact that it had the sentience to even understand there was a recent Keyblade War was astounding. Did its world disappear? Did that mean that they had to help it?

“Chur… Chirrra…” Terra started.

It was exactly like when they met Ventus for the first time. It took a while for Terra to pronounce the name, and until he got it down, ‘Ven’ was the nickname given. And it stuck anyway.

“He’s really cute,” Aqua said, noticing just how attached Ventus was. It took two minutes and he was already in love. She wondered how futile it was to discuss whether keeping an animal in such a sacred building would be a bad idea.

Terra sighed, giving up. He pet the cat on the head, deciding that the name ‘Cheers’ was good enough.

“It’s not that hard to pronounce,” Ventus said.

“It’s okay. I know he’s the smart one,” Chirithy said. Dryly.

Aqua didn’t quite know whether to interpret that as sarcasm, or to question how Chirithy could come to such a quick conclusion over a stranger. Or why a cat-thing was willing to judge so harshly.

Ventus’ smile widened, his excitement nearly blinding her. “Can we keep him?”

“Ven, we don’t know what it really is,” she said. Honestly, it was too adorable not to take it home, but she reminded herself that she had responsibilities, and safety was first on the list.

“I am Chirithy.”

She scoffed in response. It was if it wanted her to understand it yet it refused to offer an explanation. It didn’t give her the impression that it did so naively, either.

Terra didn’t have good advice. “You’re the Master. Lay down the law.”

The law wasn’t exactly built to withstand Ventus, though. And he didn’t have to ask. Or even beg with his eyes. It was just his elation: how comfortable he felt around the creature, like he was already planning what they’d be doing together the next few days.

And she couldn’t bring herself to break his heart. “Okay fine. We’ll keep him.”

Ventus decided the first order of business was to give Chirithy a quick tour of the castle while she finished dinner. It was good timing anyway, since the sun was nearly gone.

She heard him say, “we have to turn all the lights on. It’s not good for Aqua to walk around in the dark” before his voice trailed off as he ran down the hallway with the creature floating closely behind him.

Terra sat at the bar that formed a barrier between the kitchen and the dining room as she stirred the pot. Several minutes were left before it was finished.

“Have you ever heard of a Chirithy before?” she asked, though she kept her eyes on the stovetop.

“Nope.”

“Not in any book?” She whipped around, flabbergasted. She wished she wasn’t the only one.

“No. He’s pretty tight-lipped, isn’t he?”

She walked up to the bar, tracing the random patterns on the marble. “Yeah, I don’t think we’ll get a straight answer out of him. He’s also strangely attached to Ven.”

He rolled his lips inward, containing a laugh. “Are you regretting letting him in?”

She slowly shook her head. “I didn’t sense a trace of darkness in him.”

Which could mean nothing, or it could mean everything. Something made her feel off, even though she really couldn’t see the threat.

“I agree.” Terra interlaced his fingers, leaning forward. “I also think Ven’s heart is in the right place. And it just seemed like… Ven also has attachments.”

That was probably it. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you think he could be from Ven’s home world?”

While Terra and Aqua were able to share stories of where they came from, Ventus was usually left out of such conversations. He simply had no recollection of his origins, and was never able to recover.

Terra brought his hand to his chin. “It’s likely.” She could hear the excitement in his soft voice. And it made sense. She was excited to learn about this, too.

Ventus’ voice slowly made its way back to the dining room, and she counted her blessings that they didn’t keep talking about this within earshot.

When he threw the doors open, she immediately asked so as to not look suspicious, “back already?”

Chirithy made its way onto the bar. It was friendly enough, and would be friendlier if it wasn’t so formal. “We traversed only this floor. It’s quite a homely place. Ventus is scatterbrained but he makes a good tour guide.”

‘Homely’ wasn’t a word she would use to describe the castle. While it was home to her, it was lavish enough to intimidate any passerby.

The symbol on its coin purse resembled the shape of a five-pointed star. It was increasingly getting common to find that certain worlds hold this sign dearly, much like she had learned to perceive it.

“Does your symbol mean anything to you?” she asked.

“Light.” Its answers were always short and straight-forward, taking away any invitation to let her pry more.

“What do you carry in your pouch, Cheers?” Terra asked, his elbow leaning on the bar.

“Your nightmares.”

He laughed. “At least you’re entertaining.”

Ventus came in between them, his fingers on the edge of the marble, his eyes full of determination like he had a goal to finish as fast as possible. “Terra, you forgot to replace the light bulbs in the entertainment room.”

“Which one?”

“The billiards room. The chandelier won’t turn on.”

Knowing Terra, the exact retort crossing through his mind would be something close to Yeah, Aqua truly needs that room so she could take Cheers drinking, since that was usually where the Master would gather his guests.

But Ventus was so resolute about this, like Aqua would be in danger without these new lightbulbs, that Terra didn’t object.

“Yes, sir.” He wasn’t enthusiastic, and let his groan say so. He dragged his feet, the other two following close behind him.

To be a Keyblade wielder and having the most pressing concern be a burnt fixture. It had to be a sign that things were getting better, since their conversations lately turned into monotony like this instead of what truly haunted them. Admittedly it was sweet that Ventus worried over her so much, though it was ironic how the tables had turned since she used to be the one babying him.

Her attention to the food was only interrupted when she heard a thunderous crash. A rip, like the crumbling of earth. Shattered glass; by the loads of them considering how heavy it sounded.

“Is everything okay?” she called.

Silence.

“Guys?” She stepped down the hall, calling out again in case they didn’t hear her.

The hallway itself was bright, showing off the elegance of the castle. But it was so quiet, she could hear the filament above her buzzing.

The only response she received was Chirithy, who appeared around the corner. At first, it didn’t say anything, but she noticed its dazed walk.

“What’s going on?” Her pace quickened.

“He dreams,” Chirithy said, more to itself than anyone else. It was scared. “It’s hard to come back.”

She sprinted down the hallway, with just one thought in her mind. Terra.

The billiards room. The only light entering it was from the hallway, while the sunlight that should have reached its windows dimmed into dusk.

The chandelier was sprawled all over the ground, the glint of its glass sprinkling across the carpet and all over the pool table. There should be a bar stacked with wine bottles on the other side of the room, but she couldn’t make it out in the darkness. Ventus was nowhere to be found.

There was Terra, shivering and mumbling by a table on the far wall, the step ladder collapsed over. He kept grabbing at his face as if to pull something off it, like it kept him from speaking. His armored arm is tense and forced onto the table, and even through this poor lighting, she saw dense shadows dancing around him.

Darkness, emanating from his arm.

She was about to step inside. She needed to. She could see him clearly. But there wasn’t a way for her to tell if a portal to the Realm of Darkness opened here, or if there was something waiting to strike.

Her first instinct was to summon her Keyblade but it wasn’t with her anymore.

Not that she should care about that when Terra was in trouble.

“What happened?” she heard Ventus say. He approached her, a cart full of new lightbulbs in his arms.

“The- the stew.” She waved her arm at him, shooing him into action. “Get the stew. Now.”

He followed her orders, taking the box with him as he raced back to the kitchen. Leaving her completely alone, weaponless.

Terra whimpered. Her instinct propelled her forward, throwing herself into the dark to answer him. She remembered she could still fight without her Keyblade, despite how dangerous it was to be so naked in defense. She looked for signs of aggression, ready to attack first.

Which made her sick. The darkness made her sick and now she wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while. It was so unfair how she was here, thinking about having to protect herself from Terra. Of all people. Again.

“It was supposed to be an easy fix,” he mumbled. It didn’t seem like he was saying it to her, but to whatever presence he felt approach him. It was almost like begging, like he was desperate to be forgiven for the mishap. “It was supposed to be an easy fix.”

“Terra, you’re home,” she said. She had one hand out to comfort him, and one hand behind her ready to strike. “You’re okay.”

“… fix.”

“Terra, tell me what you need.”

He inhaled sharply, suddenly aware who was talking to him. He voiced more clearly, “can I touch you?”

It would leave her completely exposed to attack. She knew it. She almost expected to see a pair of yellow eyes stare back at her. But she banked on Ventus being her back-up, so she didn’t care.

She fully embraced him, her arms around his neck. He held her by the waist, his face buried in the crux of her neck as he gasped and steadied his breathing. His bad arm continued to wedge into the surface of the table, his knuckles bracing hard as if he was afraid of his own limb.

Aqua didn’t know how what to say, or how she could possibly shelter such a large man in her dainty arms from whatever scared him. She hated how often they had to pick themselves up over and over again – when would they be allowed to live without so much venom plaguing them?

His breathing slowed, his muscles relaxed some. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. His voice still shook.

She rubbed his back. “It was just a stupid lightbulb.”

The shadow he casted from the hallway light was large and looming. It stretched, like it morphed Terra’s body into a muscular beast. Almost as big as the monster that once stalked Xehanort’s Heartless.

No, she shouldn’t think about that. Once Terra was fine, they would leave this awful room.

Almost as if to frighten her more, she caught sight of two round, crimson eyes watching her. Up against the wall behind him. Unwavering, bright, hateful.

Until she blinked and they were gone.

She didn’t need to hallucinate right now, she needed to get Terra out of here.

Ventus walked in, the smell of chili peppers filling the room as he carried the pot in between his mittens.

The atmosphere changed so much when he arrived, as if the existence of a humble home-cooked meal dispelled the existence of any demon. Unless they were hungry for a woman’s hard work.

Terra sighed. “That smells so good.”

The pot found a place on the table, which compelled Terra to move his arm away.

Though he kept it by his side, as if touching anything with it would bring it harm.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, acting more like his old self. Though exhausted.

He still held her close by the waist, his grip a little harder as though he was now the one shielding her from whatever it was that lurked in this room.

“Um…”

He didn’t need to hear any more from her. He guided her out of the room, back to where it was bright and she could see the gold inlays that swept the castle walls. Chirity stood here, calmly like it was simply waiting for all of them to gather.

Terra immediately closed the door once Ventus walked out, leaving the darkness to fend for itself for tonight.

It was dark only because it was nighttime and the lights weren’t working. Not because there was anything really there.

“We’re safe now,” Terra said.

They weren’t. Or they were, she couldn’t make up her mind. Aqua stepped forward to trace the doorway with her a wave of her hand, casting a powerful Reflega to seal the way out. If something was in there, it would face pain.

No one commented on her actions.

“What just happened?” Ventus asked.

Terra groaned, his head hanging in shame. Moments like these usually came when he improved the most. “I slipped and pulled on the chandelier. I kind of freaked... It was really just a stupid accident, I’m sorry.”

So there was nothing else inside that room.

“There was no darkness?” she asked. She shouldn’t, but she needed the confirmation.

“Just mine.” His voice hitched. He was still able to channel darkness, his body forced to keep a connection to it from years of being used as a vessel for it. It was something he hated talking about, and he never let either of them learn what this last decade was like for him.

He held her by the shoulder with his good arm. “Let Ven and me worry about the darkness, okay?”

Ventus chortled, jabbing the pot of stew to make a point. “You’ll only get to deal with the darkness when I say so.”

Her boys laughed, which was a sound she preferred to hear. Although a remark like that was something only Ventus could say. If she had told Terra the same thing, she would only make it sound hurtful.

Maybe she really was the only one to think this was a crisis.

“I’m being ridiculous,” she said.

“Are you talking about the Reflega?” Terra shook his head in disagreement. “You do what you need to do.”

“What kind of Keyblade Master is afraid of the dark?” she retorted.

“Ours was.”

It sounded like the bounce of a metal needle against the vibration of ceramic. While he was soft, the statement was pointedly loud.

“That doesn’t bode well for me, does it?”

“No one has the right to expect anything from you, not after what you’ve been through.” His eyes were stern, but his voice tender. “You deserve to give yourself a break.”

She wanted to spit about how humiliating the hesitation was. If she was in her right mind, she would have been there for him in less than a heartbeat.

“Darkness is strongest when we’re isolated and uncertain,” Chirithy said. “It gathers numbers among the blinded.”

Shock number whatever for the night: Chirithy enjoyed lecturing, apparently over the nature of light and darkness. Which begged the question as to why it even knew such information, and she vowed to find a book that would explain.

But this didn’t seem to make Ventus suspicious, either. “Hmm, that’s right. Light is strongest when we’re safe and together.”

“Yes.”

“That means she should hold Terra’s hand.”

The cat’s eyes narrowed, craning its neck to look up. “Why would that-”

“She’s happier that way,” he said matter-of-factly, and she heard Terra let out the smallest snigger when he failed to keep it to himself.

Ventus didn’t have the decency to notice how potent he made the awkwardness. Terra and Aqua avoided looking at each other straight in the eye, and she thought about giving him the most sour piece of the sherbet. But he (eventually) cleared his throat, nudging his head back in the direction of the kitchen.

“Well, now that the crisis is averted,” he said, “I’m starving. Come on, Chirithy. You’re our guest so you get first dibs.”

Then he left them alone to deal with the consequences of his statement, as if his exit wasn’t cringe-worthy either. He even quickened his pace to get out of there sooner.

“Is that true?” Terra asked when the sound of footsteps disappeared.

It was a conversation she wasn’t ready to have, but it was a welcome distraction. If she braved the darkness, then surely she could show some spine right now. “Yeah. It is.”

His grin grew a little wider, and he took the time to process the information. There wasn’t a way to be sneaky about it, and saying anything might have made it all the more intimidating.

What was left to do, simply, was to accept that his fingers found the spaces in between hers.

It was pleasantly quiet as they walked down the hall, where they weren’t forced to talk about what they were doing. What a difference it made when she allowed him to simply sweep her away from what harmed her instead of doing it on her own – when she could actually let her mind wander. When she could let herself take his elbow with her other hand and there was nothing that either of them had to say to make this moment any better.

But she knew Terra well. What others would have mistaken for tepidness, shyness, a cool nature, or a quiet disposition, she knew exactly what a smug expression on his face would look like as the gears in his mind went to work.

“Don’t start,” she warned.

“Not to worry, Master Aqua, I’ll get you to the kitchen safely,” he said, inflecting his voice ever so slightly as though he was helping the elderly cross the street.

Of course. “When I get my Keyblade back-”

“You’ll try and kick my ass,” he offered.

“You mean I will.”

“I mean you will attempt.” He glanced at her. “Come on, you’d only feel bad afterward if you did.”

“Depending on my mood.”

“I’ll be prepared.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and giggled like they were still teenagers waiting to grow up.

And she joined, leaning her head on his shoulder hoping that one day they’d do more than just touch. Grateful his eyes were still blue. That he was still home, on a night that didn’t collapse.

Laughter was its own special light, brighter than the stars that shone down on the castle, or the electric lamps that led them to a dinner waiting to be consumed. It had the power to make her forget, which was a quirk close to nothing else could boast. Except maybe what they held in between their hands.

She laughed, leaving the nightmare alone by the pool table.

#terraqua #aqua #terra #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfic #ventus #chirithy #god it's finally here #i've been so down lately and it's been a tough growing pain #but it's here #5 chapters for every point of a wayfinder #i hope you guys like it #my fic

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