#i cannot stay quiet for long as you may been aware by now

[krenia]

"Finally it charged time to transfer the Marie piece and finish all the shipart—"

*random Aiden 30 minute [something] instead appearing*

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟑: 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. squirting. car sex. semi-public sex. ooc (out-of-character) oscar. overstimulation. mild possessive behavior. mild jealousy. vaginal fingering. vaginal sex. condom usage. the audacity of men. lando norris’ savior complex /jk. author’s overuse of italics and run-on sentences. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: water • tyla

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: what can i say, y'all. back at it with the unhinged thirst. every time i do one of these, they've been getting shorter and shorter. don't be afraid, for #4 (dr/mv) i'll be back on my game, they deserve it. yes gremlin lando appearance. also, i cannot imagine oscar ever acting this way, that's why i put the ooc tag? it's definitely a fun read tho (i think), along with the smut! thank you, loves, for the support on this event!

want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my betas! @biancathecool for helping with my grammer and @barnestatic for her wonderful spoiled brat idea :))))

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

if you want to look at what i'm planning for ktober, or catch up on previous uploads here's my f1 kinktober masterlist and my general masterlist for all of my works!

oscar is known for his unfazed, composed and collected demeanor. he’s aware that some people say he has no personality–but, he’s just an introvert at the end of the day. oscar’s a man of few words: that’s what people who aren’t well acquainted with him would say. if you’ve had the pleasure of sticking around oscar long enough for him to become comfortable with you, you’ll learn that oscar has an incredibly complex personality. he’s overly sarcastic, has a niche sense of humor, and can ramble endlessly at you. but, he’s still a fairly calm and quiet individual. which is why the way oscar is about to scream at the top of his lungs in the middle of this mclaren event, would be considered uncharacteristic of him.

he originally invited you to join him tonight thinking that having you by his side would eliminate the social exhaustion he experiences at these types of sponsor events. however, the aussie failed to realize that you may introduce a…different problem, to tonight’s business party. when oscar asked you to join him two weeks ago, he was prepared for all of your objections–you’re both chronic homebodies, and you both hate partaking in small talk with balding, later-aged, cologne-drenched, white men who don’t know when to let a conversation die. he chose the perfect time to ask you (after you emerged from the bathroom post-self-care bath), and addressed all of your grievances. 

oh, you don’t have anything to wear? he already bought you an outfit, had it altered to perfectly fit your measurements, and bought you a pair of heels and a purse to match. oh, you won’t be able to get your hair done in time? he already scheduled an appointment with your usual hairstylist the day before the event, paid all of her fees, and tipped her very nicely. oh, your nails aren’t done?  he booked you a spot at your preferred nail salon for a premium mani-pedi, and has a few nail inspiration photos picked out if you can’t decide. if you need your lashes done or need to get waxed, he can make the call right now; he has them on standby to fit you in.

knowing the amount of phone calls oscar had to partake in to arrange all of this causes you to fold and agree to join him. there’s nothing more the two of you hate than making phone calls–well, besides the pr events.

oscar had chosen an alluring burnt-orange mesh corset and matching ruched ankle-length skirt that looks beautiful against your warm, soft and shining brown skin. your hair is silk-pressed, length reaching your mid-back and your edges are laid in a minimal manner, matching the simplicity of your makeup look. simple gold rings are spread across a few fingers, ears accessorized with a pair of small good hoops oscar gifted you, and his initials rest in the dip between your clavicles attached to a thin gold chain. objectively, you're considerably modestly dressed, the only skin you're showing is on your arms, shoulders, a smidge of your decolletage, and the tops of your feet in the low-heeled strappy sandals. 

this is the start of what oscar failed to account for. he didn’t expect the outfit to hug your curves like plastic wrap. the whole night he’s had to forcefully deny himself the opportunity to stare at your ass, but that doesn’t mean the other men at the event have the same courtesy. he’s taken to burning holes with his eyes into anybody who lets their gaze linger over your form for a second too long. on a regular day, oscar is generally unaffected by anyone who appreciates your body (they can look, but the second they try to touch–you let them know exactly how they had you fucked up), but if he catches one more mclaren engineer undressing you with their eyes–he will make zac fire all of them; he’ll plan his own race strategy and do his goddamn pitstop by himself.

oscar also didn’t account for how your timid and sweet attitude would have everyone enamored with you; at first, watching everyone eagerly attune to your shy words was amusing to him, but it quickly became a nuisance. he was originally leading you around the room, doing his rounds at any important figures’ tables, and everything was fine. and then, oscar had made the obvious mistake of making you laugh–a pleasant stream of giggles spilling from your lips, dimples deepening, and smile widening at whatever small joke he made. he’s always thrilled to see how you throw your head back in amusement, how your hands clap together gleefully, and how your eyes squint in from the force of your laughter. as he shakes himself out of your dazzling trance, he attempts to rejoin the conversation–but every single person at the table remains entranced and wide-eyed at you. 

this would be completely fine, of course, if it was a one-off occasion; but it’s not. 

suddenly, every person oscar tries to thank for supporting mclaren, starts ignoring him and paying more attention to you. he’s literally the pilot of the car that these people are spending an absurd amount of money on, but they can’t even bother to try and pretend to listen to him. men and women alike are finding any excuse to prolong conversations with you, and even lean within your personal space with the excuse that ‘they can’t hear you very well because you’re so soft spoken.’ nobody can invade your personal space, but oscar. he has no choice but to do the very thing he hates–pda. you continue to circle around the room, his hand constantly resting on the small of your back or the dip of your waist. when you’re in the middle of listening to some completely unnecessary story a man is telling you, oscar constantly adjusts your hair, plays with your rings, and smooths down your skirt if he feels like they’re trying too hard. you banish oscar to getting you a glass of water when he begins to interject in conversations in a passive-aggressive manner.

his third strike off the night, might actually be an overall win in his books. when you saw oscar in his new fitted suit, you stared him dead in the eye and told him to ‘get naked and rail you’. it’s this beautiful deep cream color that pairs perfectly with the dark orange tone of your outfit, but the vest underneath the suit jacket highlights his tiny waist so clearly that it makes you want to scream. in between socializing, you overwhelm oscar with compliments, unable to stop telling him how handsome he looks. you surgically attach yourself to his side and hug his arm; taking an occasional squeeze of his bicep, playing with his cufflinks, and tracing the veins on the back of his hand. oscar practically runs to get you a refill of water because he’d be unable to stop himself from getting fully hard if you touched him any longer–the trousers hide nothing.

he can feel your burning gaze from across the room, and turns back to watch you after asking a waiter for water, and catches your eyes roaming the length of his body. in high-definition, he sees your tongue wetting your lips before you bite at your bottom lip–and then, your attention is stolen away from some random man who’s introducing himself to you and the group of ladies you found yourself accosted by as soon as oscar left your side.

and, that’s it for oscar. he thinks he may have heard his last-fucking-button being pressed inside his head, and seethes. he goes to push off from his leaned stance against the counter and makes to start his warpath, but a hand grasps at his shoulder. oscar turns around snappily, biting out an irritated and sarcastic, “can i help you?”

“woah! calm down now, mate. thought you were going to bite my head off for a second,” it’s lando, “if i were anybody else i’m sure there would be an unfortunate tabloid of ‘how oscar piastri is the most rude f1 driver on the grid’” lando jokes teasingly, yet a hint of seriousness leaks into his tone. 

oscar nods, understanding the underlying warning within the brit’s teasing. he apologizes softly to lando, before glancing back over at you, and can infer that you charmingly informed the man that you have a boyfriend—based on the way you point in his direction. oscar watches the polite smile fade from your face as the man continues to bother you, and the murderous look rises to his face again.

“OKAY”, lando claps abruptly, startling not only oscar, but everyone in a 10 foot radius. lando waves everyone else’s eyes away, smiling like he didn’t do anything, and speaks underneath his breath, “go. i’ll cover for you.”

oscar’s mouth drops open, baffled, “what?”

“leave—get your girlfriend and go,” lando says matter-of-factly, his smile becoming genuine, “zac probably won’t like to hear that you looked particularly murderous, and he definitely won’t like hearing that you slaughtered our sponsors, and that i let it happen.”

oscar snorts before he thanks lando sincerely, and the brit dismisses him, “i’m just looking out for my rookie teammate as the senior driver for our team. i can’t let your horny teenage mindset become common knowledge to our esteemed guests.”

“first of all,” oscar says dryly, his grateful mood dissipating at the mocking, “i didn’t even know you knew the word ‘esteemed' existed,” lando scoffs, “and secondly, you are literally only two years older than me.”

lando looks at oscar with a blank stare and deadpans, “do you want to leave or not?”

oscar daps up his teammate in farewell, and makes his way over to you as quickly as he can without seeming desperate, your glass of water left behind on the counter. your back is facing him as he approaches and you're still unwillingly participating in conversation with the man who can’t take no for an answer. as he gets closer, he can piece together the conversation; the dude doesn’t believe you have a boyfriend and you must be lying to him, and you’re adamant that your boyfriend is very real.

“look, bro. even if i was lying about having a boyfriend, why would i give you my number now? like, i’m just supposed to forget how you’ve been harassing me—“

oscar rests his hand on your side, and when you turn your head to see who’s touching you, he leans down and kisses you. it’s a kiss deep enough to let everyone know who you’re leaving with tonight, but not deep enough to be salacious (he can hear lando’s cackle from the other side of the room).

you melt into his kiss before he pulls away, leaving you dazed and disoriented, stumbling into him. oscar drapes his left arm around your shoulder, guiding you to tuck into his side, while he offers his right hand to the offending man for a handshake. “it seems i haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet. i’m oscar, i drive for mclaren,” he introduces himself, sounding overly pleased.

the man angers, ignoring oscar’s extended hand and cockily states, “you should already know who i am. my family nicely lent you the mclaren you drove here tonight!”

“ah,” oscar smiles viciously, “if ‘your family’ kindly lent me the car, that would explain why i only remember your father’s name–and not his arrogant, disrespectful, and narcissistic trust-fund son’s name.”

the man stomps his foot in rage, like a spoiled brat, and questions, “who do you think you’re talking too?!”

oscar smirks, “nobody important, apparently,” (one of the ladies listening whispers a quiet ‘damn, that’s crazy’), oscar continues, “don’t worry, mate–i’ll make sure your father’s car returns home to him safely. should i bill you for any cleaning, in case i make a mess of it?”

the guy stumbles over a response before he scoffs and stomps away. oscar shrugs uncaring, before addressing the group of ladies who were cliqued to the side watching the whole interaction, “well. if you all don’t mind, i’m just going to steal her away from you ladies, if that’s okay?” (like there’s an option). the ladies fawn over oscar’s protectiveness before they let the two of you go, and then he starts herding you towards the exit.

it’s torture. in every five steps the two of you take, you're interrupted by various guests trying to catch you one last time. oscar feels like they’re all intentionally aggravating him; patting you on the arm, commenting on how eye-catching you look, and using the fact that the two of you are leaving to press a kiss to your hand in goodbye. you two burst out of the main doors and sigh in relief, for different reasons–for you, it’s because oscar didn’t give one of his sponsors brain damage, and for oscar, it’s because he’s one step closer to getting you in his bed.

you grasp at oscar’s hand, and he starts to lead you down the steps towards the valet, and as you fall into step at his side, you speak softly under your breath, “i can understand why you kissed me like that inside because the dude was being an asshole–even though you were marking your territory like some kind of dog–but, please; don’t tear this poor man’s throat out for helping me into the car.”

the australian remains quiet, properly chastised and works on releasing the pent up effect of the annoyances from inside the venue. everything is going well; the valet asks oscar for his parking ticket, and he goes to grab the keys, but stops just before he makes to start heading to the car, and turns back to you two and says, “i don’t know if i told you when you walked in but–you look incredibly beautiful tonight, miss. you could be a model, seriously. like, you should feel so lucky to have a woman like her–”

all attempts of oscar finding his peace are thrown out of the window. he interrupts the dude’s rambling, and bites out, “hey man, y’know what. i can just take the keys to the car. we can walk to it.”

the valet stutters, confused, “a-are you sure, i mean it’s like pretty far in the back. i can run and get it no pro–”

“it’s FINE! i mean, it’s cool, we can use the extra steps, y’know. enjoy the breeze and everything,” oscar says, slightly maniacal. there’s no breeze, it’s warm. the valet’s and your eyes meet for a second and a shared thought of “he’s trippin” is passed telepathically.

the valet concedes, not wanting to upset the f1 driver any farther and tosses him the keys. as the two of you are passing by, oscar hands the man a bill that’s probably too big based on the man’s astonished gasp. you call out to the man, continuing to walk further in the lot, “sorry about him! he just gets a little touchy about strangers driving his car, y’know?” oscar grumbles lowly next to you, and you smack him on the arm, “what did you want me to say? ‘oh sorry, my boyfriend just wants to fuck me really badly to soothe his needless jealousy?’”

“as long as he knows who’s the one who gets to take you home and fuck you.”

“oscar!” you squeak, “we both know we’d die of embarrassment if you said that. i can’t even imagine those words coming out of your mouth, in that order.”

you guys eventually puzzle out where the car is after several remote beeps of the car’s horn, and find that it’s literally tucked away in the last row, far corner with no surrounding cars for two rows.

oscar doesn’t open your door like he usually does, and leads you around to the driver's side. he opens the door, pushes the seat back as far as it goes, and sits down. without saying anything, he loosens his tie and goes to unbuckle his belt before you reach down and grab at his hand, bewildered, “oscar jack! what the fuck are you doing?”

he blinks, “i’m fucking you, right now. it’s too long of a drive back—i’m going to crash the car if you keep sitting next to me in that goddamn outfit. i was going to take you to the bathroom inside, but i figured you’d at least prefer the car. you can be a little louder here.”

your mouth dries, “you said they loaned you an incredibly rare, vintage mclaren, babe. i’m not gonna-“

oscar wrestles his way out of his suit jacket, spreads it underneath him on the leather seat, and pats his lap. “problem solved.”

shifting your weight, you glance around nervously. oscar is right, you would prefer the car over the bathroom. all those people inside who could overhear, gossip, and spread the news of how rookie mclaren, f1 driver, oscar piastri, had you yelling his name in the middle of an event. you’d pass.

“oh, c’mon now, babe. you didn’t think i saw the way you were eating me alive with your eyes inside,” your boyfriend teases, “i know you‘ve at least gotten a little wet for me already, haven’t you?”

that’s all it takes; the australian acting possessive and feening to get inside you is more than enough to have you straddling his lap and pulling the car door shut with a slam.

oscar tugs you into dirty make out, and you get lost in his pink lips, tugging teeth, and explorative tongue. the last of your breath tapers out in a reedy moan, and you break the kiss to pant against his lips, and oscar laughs. his laughter spreads through your chest, and it has your hips rolling against the bulge you feel underneath you. his amusement is cut off, and his hands fly to grip at your hips. he starts tugging you against him in a filthy grind, and choked off moans from the two of you start to fill the car.

you press kisses to oscar’s jaw line, paving a path down to his wide strong neck with your tongue. you suck on small patches of skin, not using enough suction to leave a mark, but enough for oscar to become aware of the fantasization that you could. the aussie gasps at every random suckle of your lips as he scrambles to pull the skirt up your legs. you shift your hips up to make it easier for him, as your hands feel down his torso to his belt. it unbuckles fairly easily, and you shove it out of the way, to unzip the slacks and pull his cock out.

oscar moans, throwing his head back at the feel of your hand on his length, and you get entranced in the trap that his pale thick neck is, again. you hum against his neck, introducing teeth alongside the ache of the suction of your mouth, and bully the collar of his shirt out of the way to find a space to leave a few marks. oscar’s breath freezes at the first hickey he feels you leave, but the rapid inhale he takes next clears his mind enough to have his right hand pull your panties to the side, and move to caress your heat.

you shudder on top of him, your breathy sigh amplified within the car. oscar sinks two fingers inside of you, and a much louder moan is tugged out. your hands fly up to grasp onto his shoulder, and your head tilts backward away from his neck in pleasure. his fingers thrust into you gently for a few beats slowly working to open you up for him and once he feels your cunt starting to relax, his thumb reaches to press at your clit. whines fill the air, as you lean all the way back, resting your back on the steering wheel allowing oscar all the space he needs to stretch you out. his fingers start curling as they drag out of you, and you can feel the pads of his fingers rubbing over a soft spot on the front of your walls. 

oscar’s eyes were stuck marveling over the overwhelmed expression on your face, but once he starts feeling wetness dripping down his arm he glances down, and curses out a rough, “fuck, baby—you’re dripping all over me.” your cheeks burn hot, and you can’t tell if that’s out of humiliation or the effect of his awe-filled voice. your right hand releases his shoulder, and bats at his arm, before tugging at his wrist to pull his fingers out, “that’s enough, mmm, just get in me already.”

oscar eagerly draws away; he uses his clean hand to tug his wallet out of his back pocket, and tugs a condom out with a smidge of struggle before handing it to you. you snatch it out of his hand, biting it open and rolling it over his cock, and once it’s on, you tease, “jeez, osc. you really were planning on jumping me in the middle of the event tonight—grabbing a condom and everything; you think i’m that easy?”

he chuckles, satisfied, his hand drenched in your wetness rubbing over his cock to get him slick, and teases back, “you’re about to ride my cock in the parking lot of said event, pretending to be worried about ruining the seats of this vintage car. i’m not calling you easy, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it?”

your cheeks are definitely burning from humiliation this time around, but you huff, ignoring him checking you. you tug his hand away, raising your hips, and guide him to your entrance with your own hand, before slowly sinking down. 

twin sets of moans fill the air as he bottoms out; one of his hands reaches to palm at your ass (it’s sticky, so it must be the one he fingered you with), and the other grips at your waist tightly. you squirm on top of him, knees barely managing to find enough room to prop on the seat to give you a stable base. once you feel stable in your cramped position, you give a testing grind of your hips, and from there, it’s lights out.

oscar lets you set the pace for a few thrusts, suffering in the languid rock of your hips; you’re torturously tight around him, and he can only groan at the feeling of you wrapped around him. his chest heaves, before he brings both hands to halt your hips, and starts fucking up into you rough and quick. a scream jostles out of your throat at the unexpected change of speed, but you just take it with no complaints, allowing yourself to go limp against the wheel of the car to hold your body upright. he moves your body for you, pulling you downwards to meet his upward thrusts; and you feel him constantly applying pressure against that one tender spot right under your navel.

your boyfriend revels in the sound of the moans he’s punching out of your throat, admiring the way your head is thrown back—mouth open wide, eyes scrunched tight, lips bruised and bitten to hell. it’s a lewd picture, painted by himself. the car rocks along to his frantic rhythm, windows fogging, and sweat begins to form on both of your skin. the aussie’s core tightens; he won’t last much longer, you’ve had him half-hard the whole night.

a frustrated grunt escapes oscar, and you hum questionably about to ask what’s wrong–but his right hand leaves your waist to furiously start circling your clit, and an ear piercing shriek leaves you. “c’mon now, babe. ah-be good and come f’me yeah? im so close, baby–please,” he babbles, the last shred of sanity leaving him. his hips don’t falter once–to you it feels like they’re moving quicker, every sensitive spot receiving attention from the sharp snaps of them.

you cry out, it’s all too much; your hand reaches down to press against his navel in a feeble attempt to stop him from stroking so deep and roughly, and incoherent pleads try and tumble out of your mouth, “mm! osc–no! ah–too much, baby! it’s too much–hngh–feels weird–s-slow down!” it’s like his ears are filled with cotton; he can hear you begging down at him but can’t make out what your saying over the blood rushing in his ears. he’s trapped staring at your pretty cunt, watching the obscene amount of wetness coming out of you–the suit jacket underneath him is completely ruined, and he off-handedly thinks it won’t be saving the leather upholstery.

your legs start quivering and trembling–it damn near looks like you're freezing to death, even though the car has become as humid as a sauna. your own orgasm shocks you, and your eyes roll back erotically–unable to give oscar any warning. and in your last moment of awareness, you realize that something feels different, but it’s too late.

you choke on your scream of, “oscar, fuck!” as fluid gushes out of your cunt, and the first wave is enough to completely drench oscar’s pants, and oscar finally returns to the moment in amazement. he eagerly brushes his hand against your clit, and shortens his strokes to quick little jabs to force more of your juices out, and you can only ride along. you try to slam your legs shut, to jostle oscar’s hand away, but it’s futile with his torso propping you open for him. you’re sobbing messily, as he forces more liquid to spray from your cunt–and he moans out his own orgasm, ripped from him in surprise. the australian halts his stimulation this time around when you frantically tug his wrist away when the pleasure melds to pain, and allows himself to get a few more jerks of his hips in.

you fall forward, collapsing into his chest–the squelch of your thighs meeting his pant-covered ones has him humming and grinding his hips into you as gently as he can. the two of you shake against each other, hearts rabbiting as you catch your breath. oscar’s hands rise to rub at your back, bringing you down from the aftershocks still trembling over your body. 

“i-i’ve never squirted before,” you whisper into his neck.

your boyfriend hums softly, “did you like it?”

he feels you nod against him shyly.

“then, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he comforts, knowing if he seems approving of it, you’ll be quicker to accept it as something good, “how i’m going to explain the ruined suit and car seat to mclaren on the other hand…”

a shaky laugh from you causes oscar to smile, “i told you you shouldn’t fuck me in the car.”

“how was i supposed to know that tonight would be the night i’d made you gush all over me?! i was hoping that when the time came we’d at least be on a couch,” he whines.

“shut the fuck up,” you joke, “i want a live play by play when you explain the cleaning bill to zac.”

the aussie pauses, faking thoughtfulness, “maybe i should send the bill to the trust-fund baby. zac would back me up–he’s american, he’d probably find it hilarious.”

oscar gently shifts you over to the passenger seat, and you tug your skirt all the way down, and he fights his way out of his slacks that stuck to his thighs with your wetness. he manages to wrangle them off and kicks them to the side of the car floor along with the soiled suit jacket, after fishing the keys out of them, sitting out in his boxers, and glances over to see you adjusting your appearance as best as you possibly can.

“you want a mcflurry?” the aussie offers.

“as long as we can get a fry with it,” you smile at the random shift in conversation, allowing him to hide his embarrassment.

oscar turns the keys in the ignition, and the engine rolls into life with a deep, vibrating hum. he catches your legs pressing together tightly, and you squirm at the purr of the engine under your seat.

“well,” oscar starts nonchalantly as he reverses out of the spot, “you have the time that it takes to get from the drive-through to the flat to finish eating–because as soon as we get home, i’m taking you to bed and learning how to make you squirt, consistently. i don’t care how long it takes, or how many orgasms you have–i’ll keep going ‘til you come dry, babe.”

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess

© httpsserene 2023

[faememes]

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

This a rp meme of random sentences from film, TV, books, and music, change names/titles/pronouns as needed.

"I don't need a sword."

"The password is 'eagle', you apes."

"I have to tell you a secret that will see you through all the trials that life can offer. Have courage and be kind."

"When life gives you lemons, just say ‘fuck the lemons’, and bail."

"Tell me that isn't what I think it is."

"I know I’m safe as long as I’m here."

"Higher. Further. Faster, Baby."

"That's it, dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family! Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow!"

"You are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires."

"You still alive, Baby?"

"______, _______ forgot the password again."

"That is mahogany!"

"Oh, it’s a beautiful dress! Did you ever see such a beautiful dress?"

"Why think separately of this life than the next, when one is born from the last?"

"I will always find you."

" I know my value. Anyone else's opinion doesn't really matter."

"I see a strong, confident, beautiful young lady … Oh look, you’re here too!"

"Look, who finally decided to grow claws after all."

"Name one hero who was happy."

"We can go home... imagine it."

"Wherever you are is home."

"I always knew I would have to stay."

"I miss you when I least expect it."

"May our next meeting be joyful."

"Oh, great, now I’m the bad guy."

"And I don't know when I'll see you again."

"I cannot stop thinking of you. From the mornings you ease, to the evenings you quiet, to the dreams you inhabit, my thoughts of you never end. I am yours, ______________. I have always been yours."

"You can stand tall without standing alone."

"She is life itself."

"What is it, truly, to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty, so much so that all your senses crumble that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her. To honor her being with your deeds and words. That is what the true poet describes."

"I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THIS!"

"To meet a beautiful woman is one thing, but to meet your best friend in the most beautiful of women is something entirely apart."

"To the stars who listen––and the dreams that are answered."

"That still only counts as one!"

"When I was born, the word for what I was did not exist."

"Are you aware the shape I'm in?"

"Bye, my darling."

"You posses a rare beauty, my love, in here. Never lose it. It will serve you well when you are queen."

"Most people around here have too many words and nothing to say."

"Do as ________ says."

"He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none."

"Mistress mine. My will is thine. Tell me your wishes three."

"If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"

[hippolotamus]

🪩 🪩 🪩 MIRRORBALL FIC PLEASE

Combining with this Anon ask

Anything for you, Goose Friend! I literally cannot say what shifted between this snippet and the last. I'm just vibing with whatever words will have me tbh. Without further ado:

The velvet curtain opens and there’s no missing the delighted smirk when Arsen realizes who his client is. “Well, well, well. You decided to stay after all. First time?” The question doesn’t carry any judgment, only curiosity. “Mm-hmm.” “In that case.” Arsen tentatively reaches for the curtain, barely grasping it with his fingertips. “I assume you’re aware of the rules then?” Eddie swallows, feeling the click in his throat, before he forces himself to make and hold eye contact. His voice wavers terribly, but Arsen doesn’t give any indication if he’s noticed. “Be clear about what I want, keep my hands to myself unless you give me permission to touch you.” Arsen nods his approval and tugs the heavy maroon fabric closed, cutting off any flashing lights and muting the music in one swift motion. It’s an ideal time for Eddie to refocus his gaze on an imperfection in the baseboard, the tiniest chip that may well be the most fascinating thing in the universe right now. “So.” The earlier confidence reemerges. Not that it had disappeared exactly, more like it was dialed down, and now someone’s thrown the switch, turning it up to the maximum setting. Arsen practically glides across the space to where Eddie’s lounging in a cushioned leather chair. He stops mere inches away, not dissimilar to earlier, only this time his finger grazes the underside of Eddie’s chin, tilting it up so their eyes lock. “Is this what you want, pretty boy?” Eddie shivers involuntarily at the featherlight, barely there touch, fighting not to look away. Before, at the mere suggestion of interacting, he was too quiet. Too hesitant. But now, this time is his, bought and paid for, to be used how he sees fit within the boundaries of a few preselected options. Including the choice to yap for the designated twenty minutes or so. Part of him would prefer that. While he’s sure Arsen is more than perfectly fine at what he does behind closed doors – or curtains, rather – the idea of a practical stranger touching and grinding against him has never been exciting. Even if said stranger is one Eddie keeps returning to, like a moth to a candle. Perhaps one stranger who haunts his free time and he could make an exception for. “Yes,” Eddie breathes, a hushed confession. A private longing he’s decided can live in the confines of this space and however much time is left on the clock.

np tagging some beloveds 🫶 @diazsdimples @hoodie-buck @bucksbiawakening @daffi-990 @tizniz

@dangerpronebuddie @jesuisici33 @lemonzestywrites @bi-buckrights @giddyupbuck

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @steadfastsaturnsrings @wildlife4life @elvensorceress @monsterrae1

@saybiwithme @evansedmundo @theotherbuckley

[jananakookie]

Rumor Has It | pjm - Chapter 6

💬 Pairing: Jimin x OC (Reader)

💬 Genre/Tags: enemies(?) to lovers, fake-dating au; angst, fluff, smut

💬 Chapter warnings: sex-talk but nothing too spicy, foul language, mentions of divorce, mentions of incompetent father figure (not important for the story or heavy in general but just so you know)

💬 Word count: 7.5k

💬 Recap:

Rumor has it, Park Jimin is single again after his latest girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend.

Rumor has it, he's willing to get back at them.

Rumor has it, you're the perfect means to an end.

A/N please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed 💚

Previous Chapter - Index - Next Chapter

Chapter 6: Not that different.

It's been several weeks since you met Jimin's parents, and neither you nor he talked about what happened at the bonfire after the two of you were left alone. You prefer it that way, and you don't see any benefit to it anyway, since it will never happen again - that much is clear. 

It was a drunken mistake from both of your ends. A mishap resulting from the fact that both of you were under pressure all day and let loose in the evening. A bit too loose, yes - and yet, it doesn't have to mean anything. 

Talking about it would only give it more meaning than it has. Nothing has changed. You still have a goal to achieve and you haven’t changed your opinion on Jimin either. He’s still the annoying prick that gives you a headache on a daily and nothing will change that.

Yes, casual sex wouldn’t necessarily mean that would have to change - you’re perfectly aware of that yourself. Many people have a non-strings-attached relationship with a person they don’t necessarily like outside the bedroom, and there is nothing wrong with that, of course. However, you cannot help but think about the talk you had with Jungkook a while ago. The one where he specifically told you to be aware and not get in too deep, and you feel like sleeping with Jimin would definitely count as getting in too deep - no pun intended. 

And why the hell does it feel like you're trying to convince yourself? All of this should go without question. You seriously feel like the biggest idiot for even considering this could ever be a possibility. Ew. 

Sure, it’s been such a long time since you had the company of other people, especially guys, but that's no excuse to have these thoughts about Jimin.

He’s handsome, and he kisses well. You’re too damn sexually frustrated to resist this temptation when you’re not master of your senses which means, you will have to stay sober from now on. 

No more alcohol in the presence of Park Jimin. That sounds doable. You can surely manage. You just hope it is also in his interest not to complicate your agreement and keep it as non-physical as possible.

“You’re unusually quiet today, is something wrong?” 

Your silent stare into space is interrupted by Jimin's voice, and you have to blink a few times until your eyes manage to focus on him. 

“Do you sometimes miss having sex?” you blurt out, immediately taking him off guard with it. It surprises you as well, but you blame it on the fact that he interrupted your intense flow of thoughts so abruptly.

You watch as his eyes widen for just a split second before they’re back to normal, weirdly mustering you while a grin slowly forms on his lips. 

“If there is one thing I'll never get used to, it's your loose mouth and your ability to say the most random shit at the most unfitting times,” he chuckles scratching the nape of his neck. If you didn't know any better, you'd almost say your question made him shy. “Uhm, may I know why you are suddenly asking me this?”

Pretty unbothered, you shrug your shoulders while picking a grape out of his fruit salad, gradually ignoring the glare he sends you right after since you now know he doesn’t actually mind you stealing them. 

“I’m just wondering. Hookups aren’t an option for you these days without revealing our secret, so… I figured you must be sexually frustrated at times, no?”

He devolves into a burst of throaty laughter, pushing the bowl with the fruit salad a little closer to you so you don't have to reach so far while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “I’m aright. I am not a caveman, nor am I a teenager, so I do have some self-control, you know?” He explains, leaning his face a bit closer before whispering, “and I still have a well-functioning hand.”

You automatically lean back into your seat with your face showing nothing but pure revulsion. “Disgusting, Park.”

“Hey, you were the one interested in my sex life,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in feigned surrender. 

“I just wanted to know if you sometimes feel frustrated. Not how you take care of it,” you declare, rolling your eyes while you try to hide a grin of your own.

“Same difference,” he shrugs, offering you a wink. “But going back to my original question - Why?” Resting his arms on his elbows, he rests his head on his clenched fist and smiles at you as if waiting for a bedtime story. 

The reason why you have avoided this question until now should be obvious, but you should have expected it. And it's not uncomfortable for you either - quite the opposite actually, since you’re only human, and stuff like that is nothing out of the ordinary. You just don't know exactly how to explain your curiosity to Jimin without giving him the wrong idea.

Munching on a couple more grapes, you muster him while pursing your lips. “I just had a guess,” you shrug, seeing Jimin furrow his eyebrows at you immediately as if offended, and you laugh. “I know what sexual frustration looks like, Park. I built this city. And I’ve been living here for a while now.” 

A deep laugh escapes Jimin’s lips while he shakes his head, but he halts for a quick moment as if to think about his next words before he clears his throat, making it clear that he’s gonna say it anyway.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” he asks in a serious tone, looking like he’s not only surprising you, but him as well with his bold words. 

You take a moment before you nod your head in an unsure manner. “Depends. Am I going to regret it?” 

“No, I’m being genuine, I promise,” he says, sending a small but honest smile your way as you nod again, silently telling him to continue. 

“You’re not afraid or embarrassed to be honest with me. That’s pretty cool,” he admits, becoming sheepish right after while he clears his throat. 

To be completely honest, you didn’t expect that but smile, shrugging your shoulders a little to shake the awkwardness off. “I mean, yea. I don’t know why it never feels awkward with you,” you agree, chuckling quietly. 

“Must be because I’m so amazing,” he winks, biting his lip. A couple weeks ago you would have gagged at this scene, but you know he doesn't really mean it.

“Or maybe I just don’t care what you think of me,” you return the wink, and grin brightly, feeling that you got the upper hand again.

He scoffs, shaking his head with a grin of his own. “So predictable.”

“Mhm… and does that tell you more about you or me?” You fire back, biting your lip to suppress your own smile. 

Jimin smiles at you for a while and you do the same. And it's just about to get awkward again when he shakes his head as if to try and remember what this conversation was actually about before you drifted off to… whatever this was. 

“So what exactly is the point of this conversation, ___? Would you like to offer me something?” He gradually bites his lip while grinning and wiggles his eyebrows, thinking exactly about what you did not want him to think, but it’s not a surprise. He's still Jimin.

“Not at all. As I said, I was just wondering,” you say, breaking eye contact with him and shaking your head slightly.

“Are you sure? I like to help where I can,” he smirks, seeing you scoff at his lame attempt at flirting.

“I’m not that desperate yet,” you chuckle, shaking your head immediately. 

“Funny you say that now because I have a feeling that’s not always true,” he mutters, while he lowers his gaze and concentrates on eating again. It seems like you shouldn't have heard that, and you almost wouldn't have if you weren't still waiting for an answer anyway. 

Whether there is a hidden meaning behind his words or not, you don’t find out because he soon after changes the topic when he starts asking you about an assignment he didn’t understand. 

Jimin left just a few minutes ago because he had to go to the bathroom but your concentration, which you actually wanted to direct to your paper, is already interrupted when you suddenly feel the presence of a person next to you.

“Back so soon? Don’t tell me you missed me already,” you grin as you finish the sentence you were already typing out. 

Your words get stuck in your throat, however, as you look up, and it's not Jimin who is looking down at you. Instead, it's Yeji, as in Jimin’s ex-girlfriend, who never even acknowledged your existence before this whole fiasco. 

But now she’s here, and she obviously wants something from you, considering there isn’t really anyone else close enough to be her person of interest right now. 

“Uhm, can I help you?” you look at her, unsure of what’s about to come. Seeing how you never exchanged a word with Lee Yeji before you have no idea what she could want from you. Well, you actually do have an idea because if there is anything connecting the two of you it has to be Jimin, no?

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to cause any trouble,” she quickly says probably sensing you’re in defense mode just from seeing her about to talk to you. “I just have one question for you.”

Furrowing your brows, you make a motion for her to continue, not expecting much in the first place but still interested enough to not just walk off. You don't offer her a seat, though. We do not wanna rush into anything now, do we?

“I know the opinions of the people here are very different, but I just can’t form one for myself. Are you really dating Jimin?”

You raise your brows, closing your laptop while you try to understand what's going on. She did not actually take it upon herself to come to you and ask you that question after everything that happened, did she?

 “You know what’s funny?” you ask her, looking her straight in the eyes. “You guys have no problem spreading and believing the most absurd lies about me. But the moment I actually am involved with someone, you refuse to believe it? Make it make sense, please,” you scoff, already grabbing your laptop and standing up from your seating position. 

“It wasn’t me who said you were the one in the picture,” she says, eyes firmly kept on yours. “Taehyung said that, not me.” She rushes the words as if to try and keep you longer. For what reason? You have no idea. Probably to get some well-needed information.

“Oh? So what did you do to try and tell everyone the truth?” You ask, raising a brow even though you already know the answer. 

It's almost comical how quickly she throws her lover under the bus just to appease you and get some information. But what can you expect from people like them?

Yeji doesn’t say anything to that, and for the first time, her gaze leaves yours, even if it’s just for a split second until her eyes are back on yours. 

“Well, if it really is true, then just look out for yourself. I’m not saying he has an ulterior motive, but… he moved on pretty fast.” She has the guts to almost look offended when she says that. As if him moving on is what went wrong between them. 

“Thank you for trying to look out for me, but I’ll be fine,” you sarcastically say although you feel as if it didn’t quite reach her as such. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not trying to be a bitch, ___. I’m here because I felt sorry about what happened and wanted to make sure there’s no bad blood between us. I’m not a bad person. I’m really not. I’m sure there are lots of people who wouldn’t agree with me and you’re probably one of them, but just know that I do feel bad about what went down. I would have liked things to happen differently, but… honestly, I can’t change the past. I just hope we can move on from this someday.” 

You glance up at Yeji with your mouth agape, trying to suppress a genuine laugh. That must have been the most half-hearted apology you've ever received, and the bored look on her face almost does the rest.

Fortunately for her, you learned a long time ago to see the humor in almost everything, so you don't even hold it against her. Rolling your lips inwardly, you nod your head, making her sigh out in what you interpret as relief. 

It's not like you're going to forgive her for what she did, nor will you forget about it. But you don’t see the sense in starting an argument either, and if you’re honest, all you want is for this awkward encounter to end as soon as possible. 

To your luck, Yeji leaves soon after, obviously not very keen on talking to you either. And to your amusement, she’s quickly replaced by Jimin, who suddenly pops up next to you, panting heavily as he looks in the direction Yeji just left in. 

“Wow, did you run here?”

“What did she want?” He asks, deciding to ignore your question while still glaring at the table where his ex-girlfriend went to. 

“Who, Yeji? I’m not too sure. It was an experience I could have gladly missed out on,” you shrug, not really wanting to go into detail since you have no idea what that was either. “But you can relax, she was asking about us, so maybe your plan is finally bearing fruit, and she’s starting to get jealous.” 

Jimin groans quietly, rolling his eyes before looking at you. “How many more times, ___. I’m not trying to win her back.” 

You’re just about to argue, when your phone starts beeping, signaling you got a new message. Briefly distracted from the actual topic, you take a look at who messaged you and curse under your breath as you hurriedly pack your things together. 

Jimin, who was originally just waiting for you to give him attention again, quickly starts to help you put your things in your bag, sensing that whoever just texted you must be more important to you now. 

“What’s up?”

“Ugh, it’s my mom. I completely forgot she was coming over today,” you hurriedly answer with a deep scowl while not even looking at him as you walk away with fast steps, knowing he’ll follow you anyway. 

“Are you not happy to see her?” 

“I am. It’s just that every time she comes over, she’s asking to meet ‘my friends’ and it usually ends with me making up some big ass lie that makes me feel awful as soon as she’s on her way back home.”

“So she doesn’t know about… you know?”

“My situation?” you ask, briefly looking at him before you turn your gaze forward again in fear you might run into something or someone. “Of course not. And I’m not planning on ever letting her know. She has enough on her plate. I don’t need her to worry about me. I’m an adult, after all. I’ll be alright.”

Jimin only nods, completely understanding your decision not to confide in her, even if it makes him uneasy to know that you probably never had anyone to confide in and talk to about your problems. He remembers too well how uncomfortable it was to tell his family about Yeji and Taehyung, especially when he saw how much it upset them out of concern for him, but it still helped him a lot to talk about it. Knowing that you didn't and couldn't do that for years really makes his insides churn for some reason. 

You should not have to go through something like this. Especially not alone.

“So, what are your plans for today then?” He would like to disagree and tell you that your mother would understand, but Jimin knows you well enough to know when to keep his mouth shut. Not to forget that it is none of his business anyway.

“I’ll just take her to the café near my apartment. We usually go there when she comes to visit me,” you explain, finally letting a small smile appear on your lips. “And then, I’ll just hope she doesn’t try to dig too deep today and accepts my lame excuse about my friends being busy one more time.”

An idea of how he can help you suddenly comes to Jimin's mind, but he decides to not let you in on it for now. Instead, he only accompanies you to your apartment door as usual and immediately disappears on your demand. 

And while you try to fix up your apartment as best you can until your mother finally arrives, Jimin is on his way to save your day.

You must look like an idiot. 

You really must look like an idiot right now with your mouth hanging wide open, your mother happily chattering about whatever the hell you were talking about before you caught sight of a familiar blond mop of hair, neatly gelled back.

Not that you did it on purpose, but the moment you thought you saw Jimin outside the window of the café where you're currently sitting with your mother, you completely blanked her out.

But despite the rain, there are so many people out and about today that the blond mop, which seemed to be familiar, has disappeared somewhere in the mass of people and can no longer be located by you.

With a frown, you shake your head in an attempt to direct your thoughts back to what is actually important. Jimin would tease you for weeks if he knew he had taken over your thoughts enough that you would confuse him with some rando on the streets. Without a doubt, making it sound like you cannot stop thinking about him or some shit like that.

As if. 

“—Lately we have hardly been in touch. I've almost forgotten what you look like, honey.” The condemning, yet partly joking tone in your mother's voice draws your attention back to her for a brief moment as you sigh. 

“I told you, mom. There’s just a lot going on these days. I hardly find the time to do anything.” 

“It’s fine,” she says, sending you a warm smile. “I just worry about you. Please don’t overwork yourself too much. You are too old now for me to remind you to eat regularly and healthily.”

Apathetic, you poke around in your cheesecake while you hum a response. “Been doing stuff with friends for the most part. We’re going out to eat a lot, don’t worry.” 

Technically that’s not a lie. Since you've been spending time with Jimin, you have been eating healthier and more balanced meals than ever before. And you would say that's probably one of the reasons you've kept up this charade for so long. 

The instant noodle days are not yet missed by you. 

And even if you don't like to admit it, lunch with Jimin and Hyunjin often involves a lot of laughter and fun. Sometimes there are a few other friends of Jimin's, often it's just the three of you, and lately, Jimin and you have managed to persuade even Nayeon to join your little group. 

In those moments it sometimes even feels like you really belong, and it almost makes you dread the doom day when your fake relationship with Jimin is over, and you're going to be back to being alone. 

Being alone never was that big of a deal for you. Yeah, it did get lonely at times, but with time you got used to it. Getting used to the company of others again, however, went a lot faster. It certainly won't be easy to master the art of being on your own again after all this time.

She literally beams all over her face at your words and it makes the guilt almost unbearable. “I’m glad to hear that! It’s such a shame your friends couldn’t make it.”

You swallow thickly, lowering your gaze back onto your half-eaten cheesecake. Your appetite is completely gone now. Literally, all this woman wants is for you to be happy and live a normal life, and you can’t even do that? A woman in her twenties, making up friends to tell her mother about. How fucking pathetic. 

“Nevertheless, I would be very happy if you would call or send a message at least once in a while. Let's say once a week, so I know that you are still alive,” your mom grins, making a smile crack on your lips as well. 

“Mom, please. It’s not like I never—”

“I’m afraid that might be my fault.” A voice suddenly cuts through yours, making your words stuck in your throat. Turning your head, you see Jimin standing in front of your table, kindly smiling down at your mother. “I just take up all of her time these days,” he chuckles, smiling brightly as his gaze drifts from your mother to you. “I tried to come as soon as possible. I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it sooner.”

You feel yourself shrink in your seat as you sense your mother’s eyes burn through your skull, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of him. You’re too stunned to say or do anything at the moment. What is he doing?!

He cleans up nicely, looking as smug and expensive as always, even if he undoubtedly walked through the rain to get here. In his left hand, he’s holding a big, bright-colored bouquet while his right hand is already shaking your mother’s. 

You see how their mouths move, and they talk to each other. Your mother laughs, Jimin grins, he hands her the flowers, she gestures with her arm while saying something to him, and the next moment you see him sit down next to you. You see all of this happening but don't really hear a word they're saying. 

You are much too busy to realize that this is really happening. Jimin is really here. 

His gaze travels over you in a way that makes you gulp and causes you to shiver involuntarily so you take a deep breath, finally getting out of your trance as you sense they’re both waiting for you to say something. 

No doubt you immediately recognize this excited glimmer in your mom's eyes and watch as she expectingly raises her eyebrows, wordlessly telling you to introduce him too. 

You clear your throat and slide a few centimeters further to the window to try and put some distance between you and Jimin because as usual he doesn't understand the concept of personal space.

Honestly, he might as well have sat on your lap…

“Uhm Mom, this is Jimin. My friend—”

“Boyfriend.” 

In a fraction of a second, you turn your head to him, not believing what he just said. He doesn’t react, doesn’t even look at you. Instead, he puts his arm around your shoulders and pushes you closer against him while rubbing your arm.

You clench your fists under the table, hoping that your mother doesn’t notice, and suck your bottom lip into your mouth before you turn your gaze to at her again to see her reaction.

It is no surprise that she almost bursts with joy from the unexpected news seeing how she inconspicuously has been trying to find out something about your love life for ages — without any success, of course. So it was probably to be expected that she would react like this.

“A boyfriend, ___? Why didn't I know about this?” 

She doesn’t sound disappointed in the slightest. If anything, she uses more of a teasing tone with you, making it even more awkward. 

“This has not been going on for long, mom. I just didn't get to tell you about it yet,” you lie, once again poking around in your cheesecake. “It’s not like it’s that important.”

Your mom gasps, frowning at you with a displeased, judgmental look in her eyes, and you know if you were alone with her right now, you would meet the slipper. “You little— How can you say that. Of course your boyfriend is important!”

You can hear Jimin snicker beside you, and you would love to shut him up, but you don't want to make it even worse with your mother.

The two of them happily engage in a conversation, completely ignoring your presence while your mother asks him question after question, wanting to know everything about him and seemingly being more than smitten with him already.

It’s understandable, really. You can’t blame her. Jimin really is charismatic. He answers every question with ease, not once stuttering or stumbling over his words like you found yourself doing while conversing with his family. 

He is friendly, polite, extremely handsome, and well-spoken, and it worries you how comfortable and familiar your mother already seems with him. The little shit even brought her flowers! 

This is exactly what you feared and what was the reason that you didn’t want her to find out about this. You know your mother and you know that she will not let this go which only means you have to lie to her again and again.

As if your conscience was not already burdened enough.

The moment your mother excuses herself and leaves to use the restroom, you finally crumble, ready to yell at him but before you can muster a word, he beats you to it.  

“This is going pretty well, don’t you think?” With a bright, content grin on his face, he leans back in his seat. 

The moment he lifts his arm and wraps it around your shoulders again, you snap. Grabbing his arm, you immediately push him off with force before you bark at him. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Jimin is visibly surprised by your sudden outburst, and he takes a couple of moments before he clears his throat and runs his fingers through his hair, a slight frown now visible between his eyes. 

“I’m… having a nice little chat with your mother,” he states in a calm voice, obviously not seeing anything wrong with what he’s doing. “She’s nice. I think she likes me too,” he adds, raising his brows in question when your only response is a loud, annoyed groan before you lean your elbows on the table and slap your hands over your face.

“No no no no no…” you silently chant to yourself, your voice coming out muffled. “This is bad. This is so bad.”

“What is?“ Jimin asks, sounding unbothered as if to silently tell you that you're overreacting. 

You face him again, and for a split moment, you seriously consider smacking the back of his head. “My mom likes you, Jimin! She really likes you,” you sigh. 

“So?” He scoffs. “Of course she does. I’m amazing. I thought you’d be happy about that. I mean… isn’t that what normal people want? For their parents to like their boyfriend?”

“But that’s the thing, Jimin!” you groan, gaping at him with your eyes opened wide. “You are not my boyfriend. And when we ‘break up‘, she’ll be sad about that now,” you explain, annoyed that you even have to do that. “Even worse, she'll want me to pour my heart out to her or something!”

Jimin stays silent, pressing his lips together while he draws his eyebrows together in a slight frown. “Why do you always have to do that?”

“Do what?” 

“Worry about things, that haven’t even happened yet. You always do that. Why can’t you just enjoy things as they are from time to time?”

“What do you even mean? There isn’t anything to enjoy. This is an act, you remember? And it will end soon, and then—”

“See? You’re doing it again. You’re so uptight. Just let loose for once and live a little.”

“Excuse me?” you scoff, feeling offended.

“What? It’s true. I can offer you a jacket when you forgot yours and you’d be like ‘don’t do that Jimin, we aren’t actually dating’, or I could pay for food when we’re alone and you’d say ‘stop it Jimin, you’re not actually my boyfriend’, and now I can’t even be liked by your mom without you complaining about her being sad when we eventually break up. It’s annoying. Your mantra is making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Well, what else do you want me to say? I’m just trying to do the job and stay focused. Stay rational. As we both agreed from the start. I didn’t want my mom to find out about us. That was not part of the deal. Not to forget that it was not necessary for her to ever find out about this in the first place!” Even though you are already boiling with rage, you try to be as discreet as possible and not raise your voice. But it’s hard. It’s so hard right now. 

“I even told you that I did not want my mother to know about it. Several times,” you hiss, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“I know,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But I just wanted to help. You were complaining about her asking about your friends and stuff earlier, and I thought—”

“You thought just showing up here and pretending to be my boyfriend would magically make it better?” You scoff. “All you have achieved is that you have only made things worse. For you it seems to be the easiest thing in the world to lie to your family, you don't even bat an eye when you do it, but I'm not like that. This fucking sucks, Jimin.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest and stubbornly look out the window without exchanging another word with him. 

It may be childish behavior, but you don't feel like talking to him anymore. Fortunately, he seems to feel the same way, because he also doesn't say a word to you. And so it comes that you both keep silent until your mother comes back from the restroom and directly joyfully continues her previous conversation with Jimin in which he immediately engages without letting on anything.  

And even if your mother doesn’t seem to notice anything, you sure do. Because it is obvious that your words have not left him untouched. 

Hours passed, your Mom has left, and you’re seriously happy you somehow survived the day without any major problems occurring. She bought your little lie and was more than happy to spend the day with not just you, but Jimin as well and it’s eating at you.

It makes you shoot daggers from your eyes into the bathroom door behind which Jimin is just now, a shallow beam of light shooting out from under the door, the only recognizable sign that there is anyone else in the apartment besides you.

To be honest, you’re quite surprised he’s still here. Your mother left fairly late, seeing how she was too engrossed in getting to know your boyfriend and swooning over him. You internally cringe just thinking about it. 

It’s going to be so embarrassing having to explain to her why she won’t ever meet him again. Even if you were able to push it to the back of your mind for the past couple of hours for your Mom's sake, you’re still mad at Jimin for pulling that stunt out of the blue earlier. 

This boy just never stops complicating things for you, and you don’t get why he does the things that he does. 

“So, it’s just you and your mom?” Jimin asks, which is the first thing he does as soon as he comes out of the bathroom and joins you in the kitchen.

You nod, not turning your attention from washing the dishes. Jimin wordlessly grabs a towel to dry up and help you finish sooner. 

“My parents divorced when I was still very young. Haven’t really seen my Dad ever since, but we were never that close anyway, so it’s whatever. I always had a much stronger bond with my mother.”

Jimin hums, thinking for a moment before he speaks again. “Do you miss him sometimes?”

You shrug, taking a brief moment to answer, and Jimin studies the way your brows draw together while you seem deep in thought. He’s afraid he asked too much, scared of being too nosey, but to his relief, you shake your head soon after with your lips forming a small pout. 

“Can’t say that I do,” you say, once again looking at him for just a blink of an eye before turning back to work. “As I said, we were never that close. I barely have any memories of him doing... well, anything with me really. It was always my mom who did the most work which is also why they ended up getting a divorce. He was never much of a father figure anyway.”

“Sounds like you aren’t upset about it,” he wonders, a little surprised by your nonchalant tone. 

You laugh shortly, but to Jimin, it seems genuine, which confuses him even more. Shouldn’t you be hurt or angry? Last time he checked, most people didn’t like their fathers leaving them without a trace. 

“What do you want me to do? Cry about it? Should I curse and insult him?” You joke.

“No, but… don’t you care?”

“I was nine when they split, Jimin,” you explain in a calm, very collected voice with a face showing no trace of any foul emotion. “I had plenty of time to be angry about it when I was younger, but now? I think I can understand him. He wasn’t happy with his life, so he left. Stuff like that happens all the time, and there’s nothing we can do about it. My mom and I managed just fine on our own. Trust me, It’s easier to live your life without someone who doesn’t really want to be in it in the first place. I barely ever saw him after he left, but he made sure to support us financially and he still sends me a card every year on my birthday. Was he a good dad? Hell no, but he did what he could, I guess. Not everyone’s cut out to be a parent.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything after that for a long time. It makes you wonder if you said something wrong.

You didn’t. Jimin just doesn’t really know what to say. You clearly have made your peace with the situation so there isn’t really anything for him to say against it. 

“I guess it probably drew you and your mom even closer,” he suddenly speaks up again. “It’s obvious you guys share a tight bond.”

“We do, and I’m very happy it’s like that,” you smile, not really looking at him as you put away the cups and plates, Jimin has already dried. 

“I’m sorry I made you lie to her,” his voice suddenly appears behind you, sounding a lot smaller and quieter than it usually does. 

You turn around to face him, mustering the look on his face. “Yea, I’m not gonna lie, that really bugs me. Although I’ve kinda been lying to her for the past couple of years now when it comes to me and any social contacts so… I guess it’s not that big of a deal.”

Jimin knows you’re not happy with him right now. Not that you ever are, but this time he really feels bad about it, knowing how uncomfortable you must have felt the whole day. He knows how bad it feels to lie to your family about this kind of thing, but at least he made the decision himself. You didn’t have that luxury, and it’s his fault. It’s not that he meant for you to feel this way, he just didn’t think things through - again. 

“That wasn’t my intention. I honestly just wanted to help but ended up making it worse for you. I’m sorry. Didn’t really think about the consequences,” he apologizes, looking a little embarrassed.

You loudly exhale through your nose, jokingly rolling your eyes at him. “How about you stop trying to help or do things for me?” You suggest, grinning at him slightly. “’Cause honestly, you’re pretty shit at it.”

Jimin purses his lips while slightly nodding his head in agreement. “I might consider it. Can’t really disagree with you here.”

You snort out a laugh and smack him with the towel which makes him laugh as well while he tries to avoid getting hit a second time - without much success. 

“Why did you lie to me that time at my parents’?” Jimin asks, making your head shoot up as soon as he finishes, making it clear you immediately know what he’s talking about even without him having to go into detail. 

You gulp, lowering your head again because looking at him would add another layer of awkwardness right now, and you don’t need that. 

“Yes, I noticed. No, it was not hard to tell you were lying. Not at all,” he adds after a while of you not giving him an answer. 

“It’s not like it would have changed anything,” you scoff. “I was just drunk. Saying and doing things I didn’t mean. And so were you. It didn’t mean anything, so why talk about it?”

Jimin doesn’t instantly say anything to that but he’s watching you intently before shaking his head as he sends an arrogant smirk your way. “You sure about that? Because it didn’t really seem that way when you were—”

“Alright, we get it!“ You interrupt him, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. Turning your back on him, you ignore his mocking laughter. 

“No, but seriously, why are you always so keen on not crossing any boundaries? I understand that our situation is a bit… unusual, and it’s not like I’m asking you to have sex with me, but we can be friends. There is nothing to say against getting along well with each other.” 

Jimin halts for a moment to see if you’re going to contradict, but when he sees no reaction whatsoever on your face, he continues with a sigh. 

“I like teasing you because it’s fun, and you look like a puffer fish when you’re about to snap at me which is a bit cute— however, that doesn’t mean that I don’t like you or that you constantly have to be on edge with me. I’m really trying here. Why can’t I be friendly without you immediately going for my neck?”

Having your arms crossed over your chest, you roll your eyes when he finishes his little speech. “Want to send a little prayer, or are you done?” 

Jimin scoffs at your incapability of being serious, but you think you can see him trying to hide a little smile as he leans against your kitchen counter and sends a defeated look your way. 

“You’re a bit much sometimes, Jimin.” You tell him, being as honest as you can. “Ever since we got into this fake relationship thing, you've been around me constantly. And that can be pretty overwhelming at times.”

“Why? Are you scared you could catch feelings for me?” He smirks, wiggling his brows, obviously back in joking mode, whereas you gulp and shrug your shoulders as your eyes drift from him to the floor.

“Maybe.” It comes out in a small voice, but Jimin still hears you clearly, and it wipes the grin off his face almost instantly.

“Oh.”

“It’s not what you think, Park,” you quickly add, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “Please don’t get ahead of yourself,” you then scoff, rolling your eyes when his expression tells you he already did have the wrong idea. “At this point, even if I tried to deny it, I just have to accept that I obviously am very desperate, okay?” 

Jimin is frowning now, eyebrows knitted together as he inspects your face.

“Yesterday while shopping, a stranger held the door open for me, and I got flustered and giggled while thanking him. I giggled, Park! I got flustered because a stranger did not slam the door in my face! What is happening to me?”

Jimin doesn’t answer as he bursts into laughter, very visibly amused by your distress, whereas you start to pout, seeing how he doesn’t take you seriously at all. 

“I’m not joking,” you mutter, feeling your ears getting hot. Granted, it does sound pathetic and a little dramatic, you can admit that. But it doesn't change the fact that it is a true story after all. 

“In any case, it's important to me that we maintain a certain distance. When all this is over, we’ll just go back to being strangers anyway,” you shrug, getting back to work and putting some of the dishes back into the cupboards.

Jimin’s laughter has died down. Your words were pretty harsh and Jimin knows you didn't mean it sarcastically either. Even though your way of being straightforward and always honest with him is something he really admires and likes about you since it’s refreshing, it can be just as hurtful sometimes. 

He knows that you don't do it on purpose because you want to hurt him but because it's your way. It honestly took some getting used to on his part, but he thinks he can manage by now. 

And still, when you say stuff like that and then act as if nothing happened, it pisses him off. 

“You were wrong by the way,” his voice suddenly interrupts the silence you were about to enjoy, and you turn back around to face him again, not quite knowing what he means.

“I don’t enjoy lying to my family. And it’s not easy for me either.”

His voice is calm and collected, and his eyes do not stray from you which allows you to see the disenchantment in them again, just like you did earlier. You’re struck with a pang of guilt when you notice it, feeling bad about never being able to shut your damn mouth, especially in the heat of a moment.

You didn’t mean it like that when you accused him of that. It was just the frustration and anger getting the best of you, and you regretted your words as soon as they left your lips. There is no doubt that he loves and respects his family very much, and you should not have said something like that. Especially since you aren't any better. You have been lying to your mother for years, inventing friends and stories that don't exist only because you’re ashamed to tell her who you actually are.

“I know. I didn’t have the right to say that to you. Not in my position,” you scoff at your own stupidity and shake your head as you feel a headache coming up. 

“Well, you have every right to be mad at me. We did talk about our families before, and you told me more than once that you wouldn’t want her to find out, so yea… that’s completely on me again. I can see how that would make you mad.”

You purse your lips and muster him slightly. “See? This is literal proof that you are in fact, able to have clear thoughts so why don’t you ever decide to think before you act?” You then ask, smirking a little. 

After that, the atmosphere between you starts to be a little lighter again, and it is very much appreciated by both of you. 

Without any more words, he quickly helps you put away the rest of the washed dishes and then announces that he is slowly making his way home.

“Your mom is very nice by the way, and she cares about you a lot,” he says while putting his jacket on while on his way to your door. “She would understand. I’m about 99% sure she wouldn’t judge or blame you.”

You of course know what he’s digging at, but there is one thing you don’t quite understand. 

“Who said anything about her judging me?”

Jimin offers you a kind smile while his hand already goes for the knob on your front door to open it. 

“We’re not that different, you know, babygirl?” 

And with a last obnoxious wink, he walks out, wishing you a good night without actually turning around to look at you again. 

You keep standing there a little dumbfounded for a while, looking after him until he’s gone around a corner and you can’t see him anymore before you frown and scoff, closing your door. 

“We are very much different, Park Jimin.”

tagged: @ggukkieland | @ttaeby | @rkvi | @cuteipat | @pjiminslove | @mawwnsterr | @aamalaaa | @spideyxxboi | @lil-sracha | @katsbqbe | @bex-92br | @natalie-rdr | @canarystwin | @wespers-jaan | @bangtanxcoffee | @bri-mal | @so-kou | @lonleycoffee | @rjsmochii | @kiwiaroha | @chimchimmarie | @scoupshawt | @xmochiloverx | @kristinkristinuk | @thejiminshieffect | @yes-fangirl-things

[dira333]

The Road Not Taken - part 11

Shibi x  female reader with a name - arranged marriage

Summary: Airi Nara seems a hopeless case, until her grandmother sets her up for an arranged marriage. But was marrying Shibi Aburame the right choice after all?

Masterlist ; Character sheet

Taglist open if you want to be added

I apologize for the delay - my health hasn't been the best. Future updates may be slow, but they will keep coming.

“Mom.” You find yourself back in your house, Shino in front of you.

“Shino.” You blink. “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t look convinced but lets you get up from the Couch.

Your knees are wobbly and you could use something to eat, but otherwise, you’re fine.

Torune is sitting stiffly on a pillow not far from you.

“Hey, Torune.” You keep your voice soft as you kneel down next to him.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” His voice is as stiff as his posture.

“It’s okay to be sad.” You pull Shino closer to you and he lets you, leans into your touch and looks over at Torune, a boy he’s only learned to know as strong and talented.

“I need to stay strong.” Torune whispers. “I need to be ready for the burial.”

You stretch out your hand, wanting to touch him, to comfort him. Torune moves back on instinct, brows furrowed now.

“Don’t touch me. It’s dangerous.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. No touching, I promise. Do you… Want to eat something?”

Torune looks at you in silence for a long time before he nods slowly.

.

This is where Shibi finds you. 

At the kitchen table, making Onigiri with the boys.

Your eyes find his. Even with his eyes hidden behind sunglasses you can see how affected he is by the sudden death.

“Sit.” You point at the chair on your left. “Eat.”

He doesn’t object, his body falling heavy into the chair. His arm meets yours as he moves to grab an Onigiri, his shoulder barely grazing yours.

But you push into the contact, hope that he understands.

You’re here. Ready for him to lean onto you should he need to. 

Now that Shibi is by your side, it feels like you can take a breath, can take a step back.

.

Shino and Torune are quiet, but it’s not the awkward silence you’ve seen when Shikamaru comes around. Shino doesn’t seem uncomfortable, not confused by the grief.

Instead he leans in almost eagerly, watching Torune work with steady hands.

Torune’s stiff limbs seem to warm under Shino’s attention. He gingerly offers one Onigiri to the younger boy, blushing faintly when Shino bites into eat with a nod of thanks.

You smile and look back at Shibi, surprised to see him nodding into the direction of his bedroom.

“One minute.” You tell the boys and get up, following Shibi up the stairs.

.

“Torune’s mother died shortly after he was born.” He relays calmly to you as soon as the door of your bedroom clicks shut behind him. “His closest relative is his grandmother, who was my mother’s cousin. She’s willing to take him in, but age hasn’t been kind to her and Torune’s type of insect isn’t easy to handle.”

“So we take him in.” You offer and Shibi halts completely.

“What?” He asks, voice suddenly hoarse. You must have taken him by surprise completely.

“I’ve been in his shoes. Having someone taking him in is far better than what most kids experience but just handing him over to the closest relative can go really wrong really fast.”

“As the Clan head it’s my responsibility to look after him,” Shibi starts but doesn’t end his sentence.

You look at the room in front of you then back to him.

“He can take my room.” You offer. “We can take him in.”

“Airi.”

“Isn’t that why you asked me up here?” You ask back. “You knew how I think about the topic.”

“Naruto can’t come over. Why? Because Torune cannot be touched. Skin on Skin contact is deadly with his kind of insect. Shino is well aware of it, but other children his age might not understand.”

You swallow thickly and nod. “I understand. I can still help Naruto in a different way, but… Torune needs us now. Unless there’s someone else you think would be able to give him a home?”

There’s a beat of silence before Shibi shakes his head.

“But are you really… okay with sharing my room?”

“Are you?” You ask back, surprised to watch a faint blush appear on his cheeks.

-

The burial is held at night. It’s hard to tell in the dark but it seems like every member of the Clan attends it, holding a candle up to pay respect, as Shiruko’s body burns.

A few of the poisoned bugs have been taken off him, quarantined for further examination, but all the others, Torune’s and Shiruko’s alike, burn in the flames, to dangerous to keep alive.

Torune stays at your side and no one seems to question it.

When Shibi comes over to stand next to you, you lean into him.

His body, warm and strong, is like an entirely different fire, licking up your skin. 

You’ve never been so aware of him as you are now, knowing that in a few hours, you will share a bed with him for the first time.

But before that, you take the boys to bed.

Shino’s so tired, he falls asleep in your arms just moments after you started telling him a good night story. You tuck him in and press a kiss to his temple, relieved that he seems so unaffected by what’s been going on. 

He’s not shown any jealousy toward Torune once, shared your attention amicable like you’ve never seen before. 

“You’re the best boy,” You murmur into his soft hair, heart swelling with affection for him.

.

Torune’s wide awake in your old bed, the few belongings he brought over fitting in your night stand.

“Here.” You pull a Quilt from the closet and spread it over his legs. “This is my present to you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a blanket that my mother made for me when I was little. My parents died when I was about your age.”

“Why do you give it to me then?”

“I want you to know that you’re loved. So much. The whole Clan is watching out for you. And… because we can use it to cuddle.”

Torune cocks his head in confusion. “How?”

“Well, if you wrap the Blanket around you, I can hug you without touching your skin. So I gift it to you, to use it wisely.”

Torune rubs the fabric between his fingers, falling quiet.

You settle on the chair next to his bed, watching him patiently.

“I’m going to sleep now.” He points out eventually. “Are you going to stay here until I fall asleep? Like you did with Shino?”

“Do you want me too?”

He looks away for a moment.

“It’s okay if you want to. It’s also okay if you don’t want to. Two things can be okay at the same time.”

“Five more minutes?” Torune asks and you nod with a smile.

“Sure. Do you wanna hear a story?”

“Yeah.” 

“Alright, settle in then. You comfortable? I’ll tell you the tale about the little bear and the moon.”

You wait for him to curl into the sheets, his gaze intense on you as you smile, recalling the story your father told you so many times before, every time you felt sick with worry about them going on a mission.

“There was once a little bear, who was friends with the moon. He was about your age and just as smart too…”

-

“The kids are asleep.” You tell Shibi when you step into his room.

You have been in here before, moving some of your stuff into his drawers.

Some of the shyness you had felt right after the wedding takes hold of you, but you force yourself to keep going.

This is Shibi. You know him. You might even love him.

“Do you want to sleep closer to the wall?” He asks, putting down the book he’d been reading at his desk. Even now he’s wearing his glasses. 

You wish he’d pull them off, the longing for it so sudden and strong, it surprises you.

Your hand twitches with the need to pull his glasses off his face, just so you can see his eyes again and you turn away from him to bite into the soft inside of your cheek.

“Airi?” He asks and you take a shuddering breath. 

“Where do you sleep?” You ask, keeping your voice steady.

“I’ve slept near the window before. Why? It was simply easier.”

You smile, his usual way of talking setting you at ease instantly.

“I’ll sleep closer to the wall then.” 

You move, grab your sleeping attire and change in the bathroom, press your temple against the cool tile to combat your thoughts. It doesn’t help much.

-

“Hey.” You’re on your side, hands folded under your head in the hopes that it will keep them from Shibi. “How are you feeling? About Shiruko? And today?”

He’s settled in bed, sunglasses still on, posture a little stiff like you know him to be.

Shibi sighs. 

“I am not sure.” He admits finally. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird.” His eyes flicker to you and you send him a small smile, still itching to touch him, to see his eyes. “It feels like it’s been a week instead of just one day. I’m glad Torune seems to be relatively okay for now, and so is Shino, but I’m worried. To be confronted with Death so early…”

“It’s a testament to the growth of your Village that they’re not fighting yet.”

You swallow around the unsaid words. “Yeah.”

Silence falls over you. At some point, Shibi seems to think that it’s time to sleep as he turns off the lights.

You hear him move, guess that he’s removing his glasses now, at least.

The urge to touch him is so strong now, it makes you jolt.

“Are you-” He asks at the same time you speak. “Shibi?”

“Yes?” 

“Could I touch you?”

“Of course.” His voice is smooth, but it carries some worry.

You lean forward, your eyes straining against the dark. Your fingertips find his jawbone and you can feel him tense under your touch. But he doesn’t move away and you pull yourself closer.

Your thumb ghosts over his cheek, the slight stubble around his jawline, finds the line of holes under his eyes. 

“I miss seeing your eyes.” You whisper, unable to stop yourself. His cheeks warm under your touch and you realize that he’s blushing.

Something tickles your fingertips and you realize that some of his kikaichu have moved out from beneath his eyes.

“Hey little guys…” You whisper in greeting, almost missing how Shibi’s breath catches at your words.

“Could I…” You swallow thickly, barely daring to say it out loud. “Kiss you?”

Instead of words, his hands find your shoulders and hold you steady. 

For one terrible moment you think he’s stopping you, but before you can speak again his lips touch yours.

It’s the softest of all touches, his lips barely grazing yours and you move to return the kiss instantly, your mind flooded with all of him.

Shibi smells good, so distinctly him that you think you’d notice it everywhere, even without the nose of an Inuzuka. His lips are dry, but not chapped and his hands, big and warm, are cradling you close.

You dig one of your feet into his blanket, find his and graze your toes against the underside of his foot, giggling as he jerks away in surprise.

“Sorry.” You can’t stop giggling. “Are you ticklish?”

“Don’t tell.” You move to follow him, not willing to let go of him yet. Not when it feels so good to be so close to him.

“Never.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, a comfortable Silence that you hate to break but he’s too far away for comfort.

“Shibi? Can you kiss me again?”

-.- Shibi -.-

Shibi wakes with your face pressed against his shoulder, your legs tangled with his, your arms slung around his midsection. You are holding onto him just as much as he’s holding onto you. 

This is new. New for the two of you, new for him entirely. Zoka had always had trouble sleeping and more often than not she’d slept in a separate room so that he would not disturb her sleep. And even when sharing the same bed he’d kept his distance out of respect, knowing how much she feared his Kikaichu.

You do not seem to share that sentiment.

Still, he calls back the Kikaichu that have escaped him in his sleep. 

They tell tales of exploring the soft skin of your neck, of tasting the edges of your Chakra. 

His Kikaichu are curious about you, consider you a part of him just as much as Shino even with how little they still know.

.

You move when he does, eyes blinking against sleep trying to pull you back under.

“Shibi?” You ask, your voice as soft as your skin. You hold onto him with a strong grip. “Where are you going?”

“Go back to sleep.” He asks. “Why? It’s still early.”

“Are you leaving?” There’s something in your voice he cannot translate into words. But it sounds like he feels, needy for your affection, but unwilling to admit it. 

“I’m meeting up with Kenji and the others. If we want to catch the one who did this to Shiruko, we’ll have to act fast.”

You lean in and press your lips to his. He can feel the emotion simmering beneath the gesture, too much to decipher in the short time he has.

His hands are in your hair, holding onto you like he’s drowning and you’re the shore, as he kisses you back.

It’s only when his Kikaichu remind him - painfully - that he needs to go, that he pulls back, breathless and dazed. He can’t look at you, overwhelmed by the response of his body to you but you pull him back, press your temple against his shoulder.

“Come back safe.” You urge him, allowing him to hide his face in your hair.

“I will.”

-

“What’s your favorite fruit?” Shino’s voice rings loud and clear through the house as Shibi steps inside.

“I love pears.” Your voice answers calmly but there’s an edge to it that keeps him at the door, listening intently.

“I am named after them.”

“You are?” That’s Torune, his voice a little deeper and lower.

“Yes, the name Airi is written with two Kanjis. One means favorite because I’m my parent's favorite child and one means Pear Tree. They planted one when I was born because my mother loved the fruit so much.”

“Where’s that tree now?” Torune asks as Shino interjects with a rundown of the insects that love pears. 

You wait patiently until Shino has exhausted his knowledge about pear-loving insects before answering Torune.

“It’s still in the garden of our old house. When my parents died I moved out, just like you did.”

“Would you recognize it?” Torune is surprisingly interested in that tree, Shibi thinks, but your answer distracts him from that thought. There’s that edge again, this time it’s more pronounced. You sound like you’re just short of crying.

“I carved my name into the bark when I got my first kunai. I’d recognize it everywhere.”

Before you can say more, a Kikaichū crosses Shibi’s path and he clears his throat, intent on making himself known before Shino realizes he’s already here.

“I’m home.” He calls out. “Where is everyone?”

.

It’s not a conscious thought until he lays awake at night, unable to forget.

He should be thinking about other things. the slow going process of gathering information, the possible suspects responsible for Shiruko’s death, the fact that he’s going to have to leave tomorrow for who knows how long…

But somewhere on the Nara residence is a tree that means something to you. Something you had to leave behind not because you wanted to but because you were forced to as a child.

He slips out of bed, careful not to disturb you, and leaves the house.

All he wants is to find the tree, that’s what he’s telling himself.

But when he finds that the tree is infested with Pear Psylla, clearly not properly cared for, his Kikaichū get to work.

.

You don’t rise when he gets back into bed but he wakes up hours later - much too early for his liking - when you get out of bed.

He keeps his eyes closed to give you privacy but his ears are way too sensitive not to hear you gasp when you look out the window.

“That’s not-” He can hear you turn, unsure if he should open his eyes under your gaze.

“Shibi.” Your voice has that edge to it again and he blinks to look at you. Tears are already forming around your lash line. “Did you really-?” Your voice breaks and he nods wordlessly.

You don’t need more, already spinning around, rushing out of the room in your sleepwear.

He follows after you as quickly as he can and passes Shino and Torune playing quietly in the living room.

“What’s going on?” Shino asks, not as quick as Torune to get up and follow the procession out the door.

The tree is at the back of the house, shielded from the streets outside the Aburame compound but placed just right - to get enough sun and to be always in view of the bedroom window.

It’s not a massive tree, it’s stumped growth a sign of a lack of care, but you’ve wrapped your arms around it, sobbing into the bark.

“Why is Mom crying?” Shino asks.

You turn around with tear-stained cheeks and a smile.

“I’m sorry. I always cry when I’m happy.”

“You’re happy?” Torune’s voice is full of disbelief. “Why?”

“Why? Because this is my pear tree! Come, see!” You usher them forward, showing them the crude drawing in the bark.

“How did it get here?” Torune, always the voice of reason, is not done with his questions, while Shino is already examining the leaves in search of insects, carefully balanced on your shoulders.

“I found it and brought it here,” Shibi explains and you turn to look at him, an emotion in your eyes he hasn’t seen before. It’s warm and all-compassing, like the first sun in spring.

He doesn’t want to leave. Not now, not when it’s like this. 

But when you press a little closer as he hugs you goodbye, he knows that you’ll be okay. Torune’s a steady presence by your side, watching everything with careful eyes.  

“Stay safe.” You tell Shibi, words heavy with emotion. “Please.”

“I will.”

Taglist: @spellcasterlight @sammieshuttle97 (I am so sorry I forgot to tag you) @kittycatcomander @f1girlie @domesticcaboose @burningbluegalaxy @diamondtrashbag @satublueberry @kitty262 @slimesludge-space @craftypastadeanbailiff @daughter-of-the-stars11 @ravenxhelenaxjuliet @doodlepip00 @grapefanta0108 @kokonoiscoconut @tictac2 @resting-cat-face @daughter-of-the-stars11 @nonbinary-cheshire @itsbatman01 @evanebon @trohmantics @kitsunerealm

This tags sadly did not work, it seems: @shinos-whimsical-bitch @violet-hatake @sparky7-2 @elyses1901 @1syd43 @weasleytwins-41 @vev-da-best @valkyrie-senju @yuupuu @anenymousblog @sanrio1mocha @melmelmel111 @mind-ya-business420

Since it's taking me so long for the chapters, I've decided to make a taglist from now on. Because chapter 11 took me particularly long, I'll add everyone who liked or reblogged one of the former chapters. If you want to stay on the taglist, you'll have to shoot me a message, otherwise it will be just this one chapter you're tagged in. Hope this is okay...

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

I’m thinking of the Ganondorfs after Equal Lady has long since been in a relationship with them. In which, for whatever reason, he’s feeling really depressed or low or just downright melancholic as he looks back on the past. Maybe his failures or the people he's lost. Possibly even experiencing a sense of hiraeth. Where Lady sees it & makes herself emotionally open to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

If yes, then she’ll listen to whatever he has to say with quiet, attentive encouragement. Eyes soft & genuine & deeply caring. Yet, despite this, he knows her to be remarkably strong, so this apparent ‘weakness’ may both confuse him &, perplexingly, comfort him.

If no, then “Do you wish for me to leave?”

If yes to leaving, then she will gently kiss his forehead & leave but will also gently make sure that he’s aware that she’s there if he decides that he does want to talk.

If no to leaving, then she’ll sit down beside him, nudge his hand with hers gently & wait for his reaction. If he nudges hers back, then she’ll slowly thread her fingers between his, giving him plenty of time to reject.

Then, she’ll just sit there quietly with him so that he knows that she’s there as he processes his inner emotions.

If he tugs her hand, she’ll take that as an indication to lean into his shoulder, which she’ll do.

And if he’s amiable to it despite his odd vulnerability, she’ll kiss his large knuckle sweetly.

Just softness that maybe, he’s never really had before & him just being able to take comfort in her presence without him having to worry about looking or feeling weak. Or fear of betrayal.

If he asks why she’s allowing herself to look so weak, she’ll reply that he deserves to see her weakness, because he’s made her feel safe with him, so he deserves to feel safe with her as well.

“Because, loving someone is giving them the power to destroy you & trusting them not to. You may not be aware of it, but you hold a knife to my heart & at any moment, you could cut it out & throw it upon the ground. Yet, somehow, I feel no fear because I trust you. I wish for you to trust me in return if you so wish it to be so, my king.” Despite the stoic expression upon her face, her eyes reflect hopefulness & are open, but also full of fondness.

His reaction, pleases?

(And yes, I am looking to make the Chatdorfs tear up a bit. Not that they will, but it’s fun to see what I can get away with.)

A good question!

WW Ganondorf wouldn't mind opening up about his thoughts. A glassy eyed look to his gaze as he quietly rambles about his sorrows, more than likely the loss of his people or the lost dream of Hyrule.

OoT Ganondorf refuses to talk. He is the King of the Gerudo, King of Hyrule, talking is for the weak. He may allow his lover to stay nearby, allowing touch, but I feel that he would get overstimulated with his emotions and jerk away at some point. Any sorrows would turn to anger, as he cannot handle the thought of being depressed or sad, but anger he could definitely work with. He would require time to calm down, but afterwards, he may hand off some papers explaining what happened and what caused him to meltdown.

TP Ganondorf accepts the company, though he is awkward with touch. He is like WW, but his words wouldn't be depressed or mellow. They are cold, straight to the point. His emotions also turn to anger, but it doesnt turn to pure anger. It's a volatile mixture of downcast and aggression. He would contain himself, but his lover's touch would assist with keeping him calmed.

HW Ganondorf would be like Iron Bull from DAI, and he wants to hit things in any sorrow or anger. He's out in the woods, knocking down trees and being a menace with his weapons, hitting, slicing, attacking without hesitation. He wouldn't mind his lover watching him, but please, stand back. You will only make things worse if he accidentally hits you. Once he is done, he may open up about what he was feeling, but often more than not, he goes on his business.

And now, an oracle from ChatGPT:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Initial Reaction: Wind Waker Ganondorf, upon being asked if he wants to talk about his feelings, would initially be silent, struggling with the vulnerability of sharing his inner thoughts.

If Yes to Talking: He would begin slowly, his voice low and heavy, recounting his past failures and losses, the weight of his ambitions, and the pain of his regrets. Her quiet, attentive encouragement would be both confusing and comforting to him. He would be surprised by her strength in showing such tenderness, finding solace in her presence.

If No to Talking: When asked if she should leave, if he says no, he would appreciate her staying silently by his side. The nudge of her hand and her slow threading of fingers through his would be met with initial stiffness, but he would eventually relax, finding an unexpected comfort in her presence. Her softness and the gentle kiss on his knuckle would be new to him, providing a sense of peace he never thought he could have.

If Asked Why She Shows Weakness: Her explanation would leave him thoughtful. The idea of mutual vulnerability and trust would resonate deeply with him, and he would be touched by her words. He would appreciate her honesty and the strength she shows in her willingness to be vulnerable with him.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Initial Reaction: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf would initially resist the idea of talking about his feelings, seeing it as a sign of weakness. However, the genuine concern in her eyes might cause him to reconsider.

If Yes to Talking: If he does choose to talk, he would be guarded at first, but her attentive and caring demeanor would gradually draw him out. He would talk about his past, his failures, and the weight of his ambitions. Her strong yet tender presence would be perplexing but comforting, giving him a rare moment of peace.

If No to Talking: If he prefers her to stay, he would appreciate her silent company. The gentle nudge of her hand and the eventual intertwining of their fingers would be met with hesitation but ultimately accepted. Her soft presence and the sweet kiss on his knuckle would be a new experience for him, offering a strange but welcome comfort.

If Asked Why She Shows Weakness: Her explanation would make him reflect deeply. The concept of mutual vulnerability and trust would be new to him, but her words would touch him. He would appreciate her willingness to be vulnerable and her trust in him, seeing it as a sign of true strength.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Initial Reaction: Twilight Princess Ganondorf would be initially resistant to the idea of talking about his feelings, seeing it as a sign of weakness. However, her genuine concern and soft demeanor might cause him to reconsider.

If Yes to Talking: If he decides to talk, he would start slowly, his voice heavy with the weight of his past. He would talk about his failures, losses, and the burden of his ambitions. Her quiet and attentive presence would be confusing but also comforting, providing him with a rare sense of peace.

If No to Talking: If he prefers her to stay, he would appreciate her silent company. The gentle nudge of her hand and the eventual intertwining of their fingers would be met with initial resistance but ultimately accepted. Her soft presence and the sweet kiss on his knuckle would be a new experience for him, offering a strange but welcome comfort.

If Asked Why She Shows Weakness: Her explanation would make him reflect deeply. The concept of mutual vulnerability and trust would be new to him, but her words would touch him. He would appreciate her willingness to be vulnerable and her trust in him, seeing it as a sign of true strength.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Initial Reaction: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would initially resist the idea of talking about his feelings, seeing it as a sign of weakness. However, the genuine concern in her eyes might cause him to reconsider.

If Yes to Talking: If he decides to talk, he would start slowly, his voice heavy with the weight of his past. He would talk about his failures, losses, and the burden of his ambitions. Her quiet and attentive presence would be confusing but also comforting, providing him with a rare sense of peace.

If No to Talking: If he prefers her to stay, he would appreciate her silent company. The gentle nudge of her hand and the eventual intertwining of their fingers would be met with initial resistance but ultimately accepted. Her soft presence and the sweet kiss on his knuckle would be a new experience for him, offering a strange but welcome comfort.

If Asked Why She Shows Weakness: Her explanation would make him reflect deeply. The concept of mutual vulnerability and trust would be new to him, but her words would touch him. He would appreciate her willingness to be vulnerable and her trust in him, seeing it as a sign of true strength.

Overall, each Ganondorf, despite their differences, would find unexpected comfort in the vulnerability and strength of Equal Lady, leading to a deepening of their bond and an appreciation for the trust and mutual support in their relationship.

[monsoon-of-art]

Donut Hole - Chapter 15

Two Time

I'm out on the block again (Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba) So hopped up that I can't pretend (Ooh) Two time! (Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba) Stay friends Problem that you can't defend (Oh) Hands up, feel okay (Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba) Whose heart could I break today? Two time! (Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba) Stay friends Problem that you can't defend

[Big long chapter for you guys to snack on!] [ao3 Link!]

The two clan leaders met on the path to Jubilife.

“Good morning, Irida.”

“There is little good about it.”

Adaman smirked a little at this. “Oh, Sinnoh forbid you had to wake up early-”

“There was an accident at my settlement.” she said, the coldness in her voice immediately made Adaman regret his joking quip.

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware. Is it an overstep to ask what happened?”

“Yes. Yes it would be.”

They may have been working together to quell the nobles with the Galaxy Team, but things were still…frosty.

But Adaman wasn’t one to give up. “Just as well.” he said, arms crossed over his chest, his tone casual. “We’ve had issues as well. Currently half of our settlement is buried under mud from a landslide.”

“But it’s not the season for landslides?” Irida said quietly, raising an eyebrow.

“I know. There was…an incident.” he explained. “That's why I’m here, to seek the aid of the Galaxy team. My people can’t handle the frenzied nobles and the aftermath of a landslide.”

Irida was silent for a moment. “...there was a fire. A very bad one. I am here to discuss options-”

“It was the boy, wasn’t it?”

She shot him a surprised look. “How did you-?!”

Adaman shook his head. “Call it a hunch. And between you me, that kid was behind the landslide. He’s been running my poor people ragged. He ruined Iscan’s tent, and he even bit Arezu.”

“He bit her?” she repeated, “I suppose we’re lucky he only caused a fire.”

“That you know of. He’s still in the Icelands, right? Pray your precious mentor can handle him!”

“Well he handled Palina, Lian, and I-” she shook her head. “We are getting off topic. My people need to rebuild, and my Wardens cannot afford any more of their time. He already rattled Ingo something fierce. He won’t tell us what Berry said to him, but it’s clearly bothering him-”

“Well. Then we are here for the same reason.” Adaman drawled. “That kid needs help. And we don’t have the time -”

“- or space -”

“- to do anything about it. But Jubilife should be able to help, right? I’d hate to ask, but this seems like their…thing. They took Dawn in, what’s one more wayward child, right?”

Irida grimaced. “Argh. Dawn. Should we tell her?”

He waved her off. “Nah. Poor girl has so much on her plate already. She doesn’t have to worry about some…feral kid.”

As the two approached the gates, who else but Dawn ran out to greet them. Despite themselves, both Adaman and Irida smiled.

Despite the circumstances of their previous meetings, both of them had grown quite fond of the girl. 

She was a sweet little thing, kind and quiet. Every warden she had previous interactions with spoke highly of her (aside from Melli). And her way with pokemon, while terrifying, was equally as endearing. She really did love them.

“Irida! Adaman! It’s so good to see you!” she chirped upon seeing them, running up and around them like an energetic shinx. “I caught the most AMAZING pokemon yesterday! You have to see him!”

“Oh, I would love to under normal circumstances.” Adaman said, sounding genuinely disappointed. The last time she wanted to show them ‘an amazing pokemon’, it was the Alpha Sliggoo from the mirelands. “However, we must meet with the Commander. Time is short-”

“Oh, come now, Adaman. I am sure your Almighty Sinnoh won’t mind you spending a few moments to entertain her. Besides, I was told to offer well wishes from Ingo.” scolded Irida. “We would love to see your Pokemon, Dawn.”

Dawn’s grin split ear to ear. “I found him on the Coastlands yesterday, and he’s beeeeautiful!”

(Irida was almost positive it would be a Gastrdon. Adaman had his bets on a Drapion.)

Dawn presented the two with a buizel, slightly smaller than average. But the main thing was the color; this particular buizel was a pale yellow, its collar a brilliant white.

“Look! Look! It has different colors!” she squealed, hugging the pokemon tight. “He’s one-in-a-million! He’s absolutely perfect, and we’re going to be best of friends!”

“Wow, I’ve never seen a buizel like that!” Adaman said, looking it up and down. “And I bet you’ll take good care of it.”

“Back home, my bestest friend in the whole world had a buizel.” Dawn said, voice barely above a whisper.

Adaman and Irida shared a look. Dawn rarely, if ever, spoke about her time before Hisui. 

“Yeah?” Irida asked, more than a little curious. “What was he like?”

The dam burst, and Dawn began happily telling the pair everything. 

“Well, we were neighbors, and we went to school together! From the very beginning!” she began, swinging the buizel in her arms like a stuffed toy, practically bouncing in place. “None of the other kids liked him because he talked and talked, but I liked hearing him talk!”

(Irida and Adaman wanted to interject and ask questions, but there was no stopping her now.)

“And we’d go on adventures! We traveled really far! He was always a step ahead of me, but he’d always make sure to wait! And when my bike broke, he’d let me sit behind him on his bike and he’d take me places! We’d share food! He loved- he-he loved-”

The joy in her voice was quickly souring. She had stopped bouncing. Adaman and Irida had noticed the shift, and even the buizel in her arms seemed to be aware.

“H-He loved pecha berries. An-And whenever we’d eat, I-I’d give him my berries. We-We got our pokemon together. W-We were side…side by side…always…always… and…a-and I miss hiimmmmmm…”

Dawn melted into a blubbery, weeping, whining mess, crying into the buizel’s fur. Immediately, Adaman and Irida knelt by her side, trying to comfort her.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, no need for tears now.” Irida cooed, petting the girl’s hair. 

Adaman put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m certain you’ll see him again, Dawn. It sounds like you were the best of friends, and I doubt that Almighty Sinnoh would tear you two apart.”

Dawn wiped at her face, still holding the confused buizel in one arm. “I-I named this buizel after him, a-after an inside joke, where we’d call a buizel ‘Barry’ and I-I’d call my friend ‘Human-Barry’, h-he never thought it was funny-”

“Dawn.” Irida said, an anxious tremor in her voice. “What was your friend’s name again?”

“Barry.” she repeated. “His name is Barry.”

“And…what did he look like?” Irida continued, suddenly looking very pale.

Dawn sniffled a little, the strangeness of the question seemingly distracting her from her sadness. “He…he was slightly taller than me. And blonde, with hair that tended to spike up, no matter how hard he tried. And he loved his green scarf, because he thought it made him look like his dad-”

“His father. What was his father’s name?” Irida continued the questioning, slipping into her ‘leader’ tone of voice.

“Uhm. Palmer?” Dawn squirmed, leaning closer to Adaman. “You’re freaking me out.”

“Irida, back off a little.”

She did so, hesitantly, flitting back like a spooked starly. “I-I apologize, Dawn. This must be hard for you.” She grabbed Adaman’s arm, starting to pull him away. “W-We really must be going now-”

He spun around, confused. “But what about Kamado-”

“I. Need. To Talk. To You. Remember?” Irida said through grit teeth, glancing at Dawn. “Alone.”

Irida dragged him away, giving poor, confused Dawn a polite wave as she did so.

Once a decent distance - out of Dawn’s earshot anyway - Adaman yanked his arm out of Irida’s grip. “Look, is all this really necessary-”

“The Boy that has caused so much havoc. He appeared out of nowhere, with clothing not native to Hisui, with the innate ability to tame pokemon?” Irida hissed through grit teeth. “Sound familiar?”

Adaman blinked. “...Ingo?”

“No! It-” Irida took a moment to stare vacantly into space, processing. “...maybe. Not what I was going for. We’ll put a pin in that.”

Adaman tried again. “You can’t be saying the Boy is the same as Dawn’s friend Barry. What if you’re wrong? Would you be willing to break a little girl’s heart by raising her hopes like that?”

“I’ve seen him. You haven’t. He’s a blonde little boy with spiky hair and a green scarf! Although granted, he looks as though he’s been dragged through dozens of mud puddles - You cannot deny these coincidences!”

“But what if they’re just that? Just coincidences?”

“What if they aren’t?!”

“What if they are?!” Adaman shook his head. “We are going in circles. What do you suggest?”

"We bring Barry to Jubilife. By any means necessary. If he is not Dawn's friend, then the Galaxy Team can take care of him at the least." Irida said. "We'll drag him here if needed."

"That I can agree on. Should we tell Kamado?"

Irida hesitated. Adaman didn't answer either. An uncomfortable silence fell over the two.

Adaman finally answered for her. "...so that's a no. Let's get Barry here first. And we'll explain along the way. I'll tell my Wardens. I still believe this to be nothing more than a series of unfortunate coincidences."

"And I believe you to be a fool."

---

When Barry finally woke, most of the egg pokemon were gone. A few chansey and happiny lingered, but the rest of the herd had left.

He awoke to a shrill noise, one that annoyed him initially, but after a moment caused alarm.

It was crying. 

Barry sprang to his feet, ignoring the confused noises of his team, the aching in his legs, and the cold starting to seep into his bones.

“Someone’s in trouble-!” he muttered as he darted across the frozen, snowy wastes. “Someone’s in trouble! Someone’s in trouble!”

The crying grew louder, enough for Barry to realize it wasn’t a baby or child crying. It was a pokemon cry, but that did very little to dissuade him.

Finally he crested a hill, seeing the source; a little snover, wailing and crying as it tried to pull its foot out of a snare trap.

Barry felt his blood start to boil.

What heartless, absolute dickhead of a person would set traps for pokemon like this? Didn’t they have pokeballs? Unless…Unless they were going to kill this snover.

He carefully approached. “Hey, hey buddy. I’m here to help!” he said, keeping his voice low and soft.

The snover whined, trying to squirm away. “It’s OK buddy, I’m gonna let you go now. But don’t freak out.” Barry reached into his pocket for his knife, leaning forward to cut the trap.

The pokemon whined louder, fearing the knife in his hands, but the snover seemed to settle when it noticed Barry was cutting the trap and not at it. It even allowed Barry to cut the twine wrapped around its foot.

“There! You’re free!”

Barry was caught off guard when the snover almost tackled the boy in a hug. But he returned it as best as he could, if a little awkward. “Yeah! You’re welcome buddy! You’re free!”

When he let go, the snover continued to stare up at him. And when he started to walk back, the snover started to follow.

“Oh, you are. Coming with me.” said Barry, seeing the snover waddling behind him with determination. “How does this keep happening to me?”

Barry - with snover in tow - returned to the dug out cave where his confused pokemon were waiting for him. “So uh. I found this guy.” he glanced at the snover. “...girl. Unsure. But I think they’re gonna stick around!”

His pokemon chittered amongst themselves, as if discussing their new companion. Barry turned to the snover. “Well? Got any neat tricks or anything?”

The snover paused, looking down at the ground, thoughtful. Then, around its midsection, small white berries began to form. Once they were the size of a strawberry, the snover plucked one and handed it to Barry.

Barry didn’t hesitate in popping the berry into his mouth. It had the texture of frozen yogurt, and it tasted mildly sweet.

“...I’m gonna call you Snacks.”

The now-named Snacks gave an appreciative croon. But then it glanced down at its foot, red and swollen from the snare trap. Barry also gave it a glance with a frown. “...I bet there’s oran berries around here.”

Rummaging in his bag, Barry said, “Alright team, slight detour while we look for oran berries for-”

He paused, realizing that Fern and Pest did not technically have pokeballs. That was very dangerous, especially now that Barry had no way to carry Fern if they were injured.

Returning to his bag, he pulled out one of the remaining great balls and pokeball. “Fern, you have seniority, so you get first pick. Which one do ya want?”

Fern trilled, shaking its head. “No, c’mon. You need a pokeball for emergencies. If you get hurt I can’t drag you to a pokemon center. I won’t even keep you in it, but you need one!”

With this reassurance, Fern relented. As its paw hovered over the great ball, Barry quickly snatched it back. “Actually I want Pest in the great ball. I want the colors to match. You’re kinda red, Fern!”

Giving the boy an annoyed glance, Fern picked up the pokeball, carefully turning it over in its hands. Satisfied, Fern tapped the pokeball to its forehead, allowing itself to be captured.

(Pest thought it was a game, dodging the pokeball for a time, but he too, allowed himself to be captured.)

Upholding his promise, Barry released the two as soon as they were registered to their respective pokeballs. “Alright! Let’s start looking for some berries, then we can get back to the mountain! Spread out, but don’t go too far!”

Mystery cawed and cawed, gesturing to something behind the boy.

Glancing over his shoulder, Barry saw a little sitrus berry, set in the snow just beyond the dug-out entrance. And beyond the sitrus berry was another. And another. And another. Dozens of sitrus berries in a neat little line, leading off to…somewhere.

“That’s…odd.”

Normally, Barry would be very suspicious. If anything, this looked like a trap from a cartoon. But this wasn’t a cartoon, and he sincerely hoped that Team Galactic didn’t think he was this stupid.

There was no chance this was one of Team Galatic’s tricks. No, it must’ve been the chanseys! Trying to lead him somewhere.

So Barry and his odd little companions followed the trail of berries. He made sure his pokemon got their fill in this unexpected berry feast before tucking them away in his bag for later.

If he squinted, Barry could see the trail of yellow and blue berries snaking through the snow, twisting around a group of enormous icy spires. Maybe that’s where the blissey and chansey normally lived?

He was finding it a bit harder to cling on to his ‘chansey’ theory, especially as the giant ice blocks loomed above them all…

Fern too, seemed to sense something he didn’t. It stuck to Barry’s side, eyes darting about. His other pokemon were still collecting berries without a care.

After crossing between two massive pillars, Fern froze. As if standing steps away from a threshold of some kind, Fern refused to take a step further.

“...buddy?” Barry whispered. “What’s wrong?”

Then, Barry made the unfortunate mistake - or perhaps very fortunate mistake - of looking behind them.

There was a Magmortar clearly stalking them. Following the trail of footsteps they had left in the snow, obviously trying not to be seen.

Barry felt his heart skip a beat.

This was a trap, wasn't it.

“Don’t take anymore berries.” Barry hissed, keeping the magmortar in the corner of his vision. “We need to leave.”

But to his horror, he could see another stalking figure just outside of the ice pillars; an Electivire prowling the outskirts, blocking him in. The only path he could take was deeper into the ice.

Vaguely, Barry recalled nature documentaries. Packs of Pyroar intentionally luring their prey into bottlenecks or blockades, where they had no chance of escape.

Was he the prey?

Was he going to die here?

Barry found himself reaching into his bag and clutching his knife.

Barry and his team found the end of the berry trail, leading into a large clearing in the ice. And at the end of the trail was a shirtless man and a young girl.

The man glanced at the girl. "I cannot believe that worked."

"I told you it would! My clairvoyance is never wrong!"

Instinctively, Barry pushed his pokemon behind him. "Who are you? Are you part of Team Galactic?"

The man burst into a bellowing laugh. Only then did Barry realize - to his bewilderment and slight disgust - the man's chest hair was trimmed into the circular symbol of the Galactic splinter group.

It was obvious he was part of Galactic.

 "If I wasn't so furious, I'd almost be tempted to go easy on you for that!" The man said after settling himself down some, but a very irritated grin was still on his face. "Proper introductions are in order. I am Gaeric, Warden of the Pearl Clan!"

"And my name is Sabi, of the Diamond clan."

"You are Berry! The strange, wayward child that sets settlements ablaze and causes landslides!" Gaeric crossed his arms over his chest. The irritated grin was gone, leaving only anger. "And you will go no further."

The electivire slowly stomped into the clearing, the magmortar entering opposite it. From behind, Barry recognized the familiar silhouette of a Rhyperior.

Cornered. Trapped. Prey.

"Here are your options!" Gaeric held up a hand. "You willing come with me to the Pearl Settlement, and you wait while we decide how to punish you for your crimes. Or…we drag you there by the ankles."

"Ooooh, tough choices!" Sabi chirped. "Which will you pick, hmmm?"

Barry glanced between the three pokemon trudging through the snow to reach him. It felt like hundreds of battle strategies and movesets and possibilities raced through his mind at impossible speeds.

(He remembered fighting side by side with Her. He had begged her to come to the Fight Area, and she had gotten lost trying to find the ferry in snowpoint. Oh, oh how he had teased her for that. “I thought it was my job to get lost!” he said between fits of giggling.)

(Then, Flint and Volkner had challenged the two to a battle. With Her by Barry’s side, he knew the two of them would never lose. Flint sent out his magmortar and Volkner sent out his electivire, and-)

“Pest! String shot on the electivire, it’s fastest, so we gotta slow it down. Then, keep it distracted! Keep it confused! String shot, confusion, quiver dance! Go!” he barked, Pest launching itself off his head to follow the orders.

“Mystery! You take on the magmortar! Dodge the blasts, get in what hits you can! Haze to keep yourself hidden!” With a loud squawk, Mystery took flight, circling the fire type pokemon from above.

Finally, Barry turned to face the rhyperior behind him. “Jen! You’re on the rhyperior! It’s slow and bulky, so skirt around it until there’s an opening! No necessary risks, got it?!”

Fern shifted, ready to join the others in combat, but Barry grabbed its arm. “Not yet. Stay here. I doubt that’s all the pokemon they have…”

And his assumption was correct.

Gaeric groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling loudly. “I knew you would do something stupid like this. Fine. If you want to fight so bad, I’ll give you a fight!”

Behind him floated in a glalie and froslass, both of them looking to the man for orders. “Freeze the boy! We’ll drag him to the settlement as an ice cube if we must!”

“Fern, take care of the ice types! I’ll protect Snacks!”

And Fern was all-too-happy to spring into action; the glalie, the froslass, and Fern circling one another in a strange, combative dance, none of them wanting to take the first shot.

Sabi frowned as she looked at all the battles before her, “You’re being so rough to my friends! That’s not how playing works! You’re being so mean!” she said with a whine.

With their Pokemon engaged in combat, Barry began to slowly move away from the battlefield, Snacks shuffling awkwardly behind him. He was looking for a potential exit, an escape plan. But it looked like they were trapped by ice and the trio of ‘friends’.

His hand was still in his bag, gripping the knife’s handle so tight it felt like he was about to lose circulation in his fingers. He was completely trapped. Cornered. Cornered. Cornered.

Gaeric, as if sensing Barry intent to escape, began making his way closer. Barry started to tremble, pressing himself against the pillar of ice behind him. Snacks let out a mournful croon, wrapping its arms around Barry’s legs.

But the man stopped. He stopped a few yards away, arms crossed. He had a strange look on his face that Barry couldn’t identify; the irritation and anger was still there…but just underneath was something softer.

“You’re not leaving.” Gaeric finally said. “I know you flee at the first chance you get. It’s not happening.”

Barry pulled out his knife, holding it with a shaking hand. “S-Stay back! I'm warning you!"

“Who taught you how to hold a knife?" Gaeric asked with an unimpressed frown. “Look at that stance! You know what-” he resumed his stride, gesturing at Barry. “Give me that. Give me the knife.”

“W-WHAT?” Barry squealed, pressing himself even more against the ice.

He didn’t actually want to have to use the knife. Barry was hoping he could bluff his way out of this, and clearly he could not.

Gaeric grabbed the boy’s wrist, the same hand currently holding the knife. “Alright. Give me the knife. You’re going to hurt someone.”

“AH- LET GO OF ME!” Barry shouted, scrambling to pull himself away. But the larger man was as solid as a boulder. 

“Give me the knife!”

“NO!”

“Just give me the knife!”

A near in-human noise clawed out of Barry’s throat as he squirmed and writhed in Gaeric’s grip. He tugged and pulled, his free hand clawing at Gaeric’s wrist.

Gaeric stood there, looking at Barry as if the boy had transformed into a feral shinx before his very eyes. “You are freaking me out. Listen, you’re not going to win this fight. Look-”

He pulled the boy over, twisting him around to show the battlefield. Pest was still keeping the electivire distracted, Mystery was dodging the magmortar attacks, Jen was still keeping the rhyperior occupied.

Fern was currently locked in battle with his glalie, attempting to land a punch on the floating ice type. What Fern didn’t notice, though, was froslass creeping behind it.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with your deformed Gardevoir…Gallade…thing. But whatever it is, I know it won’t be able to take a shadow ball in the back.”

“FERN!” Barry screamed, still trying to tear his wrist from Gaeric’s grip. “FERN BEHIND YOU!”

The warning came just moments too late. Fern was just barely able to spin around and raise an arm to try and protect itself from the attack. 

The shadow ball was a direct hit.

Fern was engulfed in an explosion of purple, ghostly energy.

But when the smoke cleared, Fern was still standing. Shaking, clearly injured, but still standing.

Gaeric’s jaw dropped. “What in Sinnoh’s name IS that thing?!”

“That’s my FRIEND, you ASSHOLE!” Barry practically screamed, continuing his writhing struggles.

Snacks was crying behind him. Pest and Mystery were clearly growing tired. Jen was barely dodging attacks. Fern was outnumbered.

His pokemon needed him. His pokemon needed him! 

“NOW LET! ME! GO!”

Barry kicked him. Kicked him hard. Right between his legs.

The surprised and pained squeak from the man was almost satisfying. But more importantly, as Gaeric slumped to the ground, he let go of Barry's wrist.

His glalie and froslass, alerted by their master’s distress, abandoned combat with Fern. 

“FERN!” Barry shouted, trying - and failing - to pick up Snacks. (Since when were snovers so heavy?) “GO HELP JEN!”

A bit slow from the shadow ball, Fern eventually staggered over to the rhyperior.

“Hey! That’s no fair! And no fun!” Sabi yelled from…somewhere. Barry had kind of lost track of her in the fight. But he finally noticed her on top of one of the pillars with a giant bird. “You’re cheating!”

And said giant bird looked mean. There was no way his team could take that thing on, not now.

“I’m fine with that!” Barry yelled back. “Take out the rhyperior!”

The rhyperior wasn’t sure which target to focus on with Fern joining the fray, and this confusion was enough for Jen to land a well-placed water pulse and for Fern to hit with a close combat immediately after.

The enormous rock pokemon staggered, falling onto its back. It wiggled pitifully, like a stuck ledyba.

It wasn’t fainted. But it was an opening.

“LEAVING NOW! LEAVING NOW!” Barry called to his team. He grabbed his very last pokeball, tapping it against Snacks’ head to capture it. “Sorry bud, you’re real slow. Fern, Jen, you too-” and he recalled them for good measure.

He could hear Pest and Mystery start to fly after him. But he could also hear the screech and wingbeats of the giant bird under Sabi’s command.

Barry risked glancing over his shoulder. The giant bird was gaining on them, any moment it’d swoop down and crush Mystery and Pest between its talons-

That was, until Mystery spun right around and smacked it with assurance. The giant bird, either taken by surprise or genuinely hurt, let out a loud squawk and gave up chasing them entirely. It flew back to Sabi, metaphorically tucking its tail between its legs like a frightened poochyena.

“HA! YOUR STUPID BIRD CAN’T HANDLE US!” He shouted, Mystery letting out a loud caw in agreement.

“YOU ATTACKED LORD BRAVIARY?!” the girl squealed, Braviary pitifully crooning and nudging its head into her chest. “You’re going to be in sooooooooooo much trouble!!”

“I don’t care what pedigree or whatever that thing is! You’re lucky I didn’t fine you two!”

With the electivire breaking the silk slowing it down and the magmortar helping the rhyperior back onto its feet, Barry knew it was time to leave.

He ran back into the frozen wastes, Pest and Mystery flying just behind, hoping that Gaeric and Sabi were too slow to give chase.

Luckily for him, they didn’t bother giving chase at all.

Sabi and Lord Braviary made their way to Gaeric, curled up on his side, on the ground. “Well. That could’ve gone worse.” she said with a shrug.

Gaeric laid there for a moment before asking, “...Sabi. How much of that fight could you see…with your foresight?”

“Hmmmmm, I saw most of it. Attacking Lord Braviary was a surprise-”

“So you knew. He’d kick me in the dick. And you said. Nothing?”

“Yeah! It was sooo funny!”

He groaned again, “I hate you. I hate you so much.”

---

[Finally!! Dawn Speaks!!! And the Leaders know…….] [And a team update! Now featuring Snacks!]

[allovertheplace-writing]

Hello, I saw that you're requests are open and if it's no trouble I would like to ask for kazuha with fem s/o who is insecure about their looks and body? Thank you in advance and have a nice day.

Genshin Impact

Character(s): Kazuha

Genre: Fluff + Comfort

Type: Headcanon

Description: Some days you cannot ignore the way you see yourself and every frown, every thought, finds a way to hinder your daily life. Today, though, as it all creeps in, you aren't alone

Warning(s): Female Reader(Pronouns and Gendered Terms Not Mentioned / Can Be Read by Anyone Without Being Misgendered), Insecurities, Touching(Innocent in Nature)

Hello, anon!! It's no trouble at all <3

I hope you enjoy and have a great day or evening!

It was a feeling, a simple pit in your stomach whilst you looked for something to wear for the day. Nothing seemed quite right and frustration boiled at the back of your throat with every failed outfit. Your silent words of disdain toward the unflattering clothing soon turned to your own self

You tried to shake your head and focus on finding something you knew looked good, but they just wouldn't stop. The very brain that knew you were attractive, attacked you as if it didn't. It would keep going until it ate you alive; until it consumed all that you are

But his voice, ever so soft and ever so kind, called for you just beyond your quarters, inquiring if you were ready to follow him just as he would the wind. It had your heart halting and your lungs aching. What would you say? More so, what could you say?

Perhaps it was your silence that would drive him away, maybe you could hide and wallow like days long passed. Though you knew better than that, that he would always make sure you were alright. He knew the way your dressing habits changed whenever your thoughts raged war upon your very being, he knew your torment like he knew his past

"May I come in, love?" He spoke in a hush, as if a mere wisp of urgency would send you hurling into the fiery pits of the underworld with only the souls of the damned to keep you company. His bandaged hand was on the weathered knob of your door long before you managed to push out a hum, but he waited for it despite the seconds or minutes that went by. For you, he would wait an eternity; he'd wait lifetimes

The door's hinges whined as he pushed it open, scared to allow him in just as you. Though your fear did not bloom from the stem of him knowing, rather, it fell from the wilted petals of your heart. To worry him so hurt more than any anguish your mind could grow in the soil of your battered soul.

A breath fell from his lips, an exhale soon followed by careful words. "Are...are you alright?" The twisting of your brow had him stepping closer. He payed no mind to your shrinking once he had you in his arms, sliding and locking loosely between your middle. He had been unsure before, but more than aware now. "Is it one of those days?"

The shirt in which you tried before his interruption was pressed ever so tightly to your chest, a meek attempt at shielding your weeping heart from his curious eyes. Your throat, tense and screaming for rest, only managed a quiet squeak - a squeak that was intended to be a 'yes'

His chin nestled above your shoulder as he breathed, his cheek smooshing when he leaned into you. "I'm perfectly content staying in today, if that's what you want." Hands, once locked and resting against your stomach, now wandered and danced across your bare skin. His thumbs rubbed circles whilst his fingers traced every curve and every mark. Like honey they dripped slowly and tickled the expanse of your skin in cold lines, lighting fires in their wake.

"There is always one thing the wind calls you toward, you know. Constantly pulling and pushing you until you finally find it.." His bangs dragged across your neck as he shifted, lifting and turning his head. Warmth settled against the shell of your ear, lips brushing the sensitive skin with every word. "And, for me..." Hands found your own, "I have found that you are what it's been leading me to."

Your aching fingers loosened around the crinkled fabric within your hands, his words relieving as much as they were lung aching. The shirt fell from your grasp when you reached for his hands, tangling your own with his as you pulled them close. Your chest rose with a shaking breath, your nose burning.

"To me, you are the world. Full of wonders and life." Your eyes itched as they watered and blurred. "A never-ending masterpiece of bountiful views and tasteful cuisines." His lips graced the curve of your cheek, "A flower that withstands hurricanes and tsunamis."

"You're so strong, (Y/n), but please...remember that you can lean on me whenever it gets too difficult." Another kiss is pressed to your cheek, "I love you, dearly."

[kwiisatz]

𓏭  no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to you. /⠀/  feyd x ᝰ @draconikia ⨟ accepting .ᐟ  

feyd  -  rautha  is  a  loyal  beast,  that  he  knows  better  than  anyone. some  part  of  him  is  hyperaware  of  the  fact  feyd  is  down,  that  blood  seeps  into  rock  and  soil;  he  begins  in  his  endeavour  to  reach  him  beneath  the  din  of  battle,  shadow  and  dust  sequestering  his  movements.  his  knees  scuff  when  he  slides  toward  him,  cradles  his  head  briefly  to  look  at  him,  smiles  at  such  a  foolish  decree.  paul  doesn't  have  enough  gauze  on  him  to  stop  the  bleeding  fully  but  he  tears  at  his  cloak,  strips  being  used  to  stanch  the  way  vitality  weeps  from  wounds.  "  good  thing  I'm  not  losing  you  today,  then,  "  he  finally  utters,  shifting  to  help  the  warrior  rise  to  his  feet.  around  them  the  world  is  black,  white,  scarlet  ––  he  is  vaguely  aware  of  the  fact  it  had  been  several  shots  that  had  downed  his  blade.  no  knife  could  touch  feyd  -  rautha  .      .      .  he  was  a  ferocious  thing  first  and  foremost;  he  expects  the  shots  had  ricocheted.  they  move  through  halls,  debris  clattering  about  their  feet  and  dust  rains  down  upon  them,  making  paul  blink  it  from  his  lashes.  he  need  only  find  a  corner  to  rest  the  man  in,  to  hide  him  away  a  moment  until  this  battle  is  finished.  deeper  and  deeper  they  go  through  the  palace  until  he  finds  a  level  that  does  not  waver  or  sway  beneath  the  scream  of  artillery.  "  you  stay  here,  alright?  "  I  love  you,  he  desires  saying  and  yet,  fights  the  urge. there  is  no  time  for  the  softness  of  confession;  fate  had  brought  them  together  long  ago  and  their  history  was  laid  askew  about  them.  this  union  was  not  what  was  intended  by  the  bene  gesserit  and  yet,  in  paul's  mind,  it  was  all  he  would  need. may  these  bloodlines  die  with  them,  he  supposed  ––  so  they  may  live  in  the  sanctity  of  their  strange  love.  a  knife  is  slid  into  feyd's  hands,  a  small  smile  being  offered  as  a  way  to  quiet  him  from  the  roaring  inferno  of  his  warrior's  heart;  he  can  see  his  open  dislike  of  being  set  aside,  told  not  to  fight  but  paul  cannot  lose  him.  not  now,  when  they're  so  close.

[sparrowsworkshop]

“All I Am” by OneWingedSparrow, for Zelink Week 2023; Chapter 1: Deceptive Appearances

Next Chapter >>> (Coming Soon) Fic Summary: The captain of the Knights of Hylia has been tasked with holding back the demon king’s forces. Aware that he is out of his league, Link struggles with coming to terms with the gravity of this command. Fortunately, Hylia is watching out for him. Main Tags: Link / Hylia, Hylia & The First Hero, Hylia & Link vs Demise, Worth, Purpose, Romance, Skyward Sword I Love You But We Ignore SkSw Canon for the Sake of Creative Liberty, I suppose that fact makes this an AU, it’s supposed to be set way before the events of Skyward Sword anyway, Additional Tags to Be Added Warning Tags: Alcohol Use, Conversations about Death, Struggling with Feeling Unworthy, Addtional Tags to be Added

Author’s Note: This fic will be rated M on AO3, but will stay SFW throughout. Before you choose to read, please be mindful that this story will touch upon heavier themes. Angst with a Good Ending: As of now, I cannot promise that this story will have a Happy ending; but I am certain that it will be Good. Read on AO3 @zelinkcommunity​ Here is my fic for Day 2 of Zelink Week 2023! “Forbidden.” The rest of this fic will not be posted for Zelink Week (I have other fics to share for the remaining days), but I intend to return to it at a later date! I hope you will keep it on your radar! ✨ Reblogs are appreciated!

~ He was going to die. He knew better than to believe in mercy from a demon king. That’s why Link didn’t bat an eye at the inflated price of Tabantha’s homemade whiskey, but simply tossed the bag of rupees over the counter at her and started drinking straight from the bottle. If anyone had been seated on the empty stool to his right, they might have noted the haggard lines carved into the man’s forehead—that is, if those were even visible under the low-hanging hood of his tattered black cloak. If such a person had a keen eye, they might even have recognized the blood red scarf tucked inside the hood, a noose that never left his neck; and they would well have wondered, perhaps aloud, “What is the captain of Hylia’s army doing at this bar at this hour, drinking his life away?” Not that the captain himself would have answered. Link’s eyes were distant, staring into a realm no mortal could wander. He downed the whiskey with the same practice and precision as he might have driven a blade into the heart of a foe. How long he sat there, whiling away what little remained of his life, Link neither knew nor cared. Though Tabantha’s bar was filled with its usual number of patrons, and a steady hubbub rollicked the room, silence was the captain’s only companion. Until someone took the stool to his right, and swung it towards him, long skirt swishing over the worn, oak floor. Removed though he was, the motion caught his eye. Link glanced over the bottle to see a woman beside him, leaning one elbow over the bar. The light from the sconces on the wall seemed to make her hair sparkle; golden, it was, and long like a tapestry, with purple beads braided into a few choice sections. If he was in his right mind, he might have thought her beautiful. But hearts blinded by dread so rarely acknowledge the beauty set before them, prominent though it may be. “No man thirsts so without reason,” his companion said. Her voice was soft, and seemed to float through the air like a feather. “What is it that you seek to forget?” Link tugged at his scarf, freeing just enough to wipe his mouth. A burp came out before his reply, but he was too drunk for his lack of table etiquette to bother him. “All of it,” he said, raising the bottle in a solitary toast. “Take it...take it away.” “That is much to ask for, my friend. Is that truly what you wish?” “Why not?” He laughed, hard and long, but there was no humor in the sound. “No point in holding on. You get it, yeah? You—you unnerstand.” Even the hearty din of the room could not drown out her silence. She was quiet for a time, though he wasn’t sure how long that time was. He shouldn’t have cared—why was this woman even bothering to talk to him, anyway?—and yet, when he tipped the bottle back again, it froze before the rim even touched his lips. She...she was looking straight at him, and for some reason, he startled. Her face...those eyes. Did he know her? Huh. How strangely...familiar. This unplanned staring contest could have gone on forever, had the woman not looked away first. Despite this, Link knew she was not turning away from him, not writing him off as some drunken fool blabbering on. No, she was still listening; he was convinced she was listening. For some reason, words started to dribble out of his mouth, freely as the whiskey on his chin. “We’re gonna die,” Link said bluntly. “We’re all gonna die. They think we can fight the Demon King. Ha!” His voice cracked. “Th’ last line of defense, they call us, an’ they’re right, they’re right. They’re right, y’know. We can’t hold him off for long. Not alone, without divine aid.” He spread his arms wide for dramatic effect, and then let them fall, limply, to his sides. Her long, pointed ears inclined towards him, her countenance somber. “Your wisdom is sound,” she said softly. “Facing him alone is ill-advised.” The bottle was slick in his grasp. He tipped it on accident, spilling a considerable amount of booze on his cloak. Link growled at the treachery, and tried unsuccessfully to wipe it away. “You need not face him alone, Link. I vow, I shall be with you.” This news was surprising enough to divert his attention. He looked her up and down. Round face, white dress, bare feet. Her hands looked too soft to have held any weapons. Her face seemed too peaceful to have seen much battle. If she believed herself a warrior, where was the proof? “You?” he said hoarsely, now too tired to laugh. “I,” she said, with a smile that rivaled the glitter of her beads. “You,” he repeated, frowning. Such confidence, such poise...it all seemed so familiar. Was she an acquaintance? An old friend? Did he know her after all? He couldn’t recall. “Wha’s—” Link hiccuped. “Your name, by the by?” “Hylia,” she replied. “I am Hylia.” Link stared at her through bleary eyes. “Like the—the, the goddess?” “Precisely like the goddess,” said the woman named Hylia, feathery voice embellished with a certain fondness. “You are correct.” Well, he didn’t know anyone named Hylia. Clearly, his gut was mistaken. She must have reminded him of someone he once knew. “Tha’s funny,” Link mused. “You don’...look like a Hy...lia.” With that proclamation, he tipped off the stool. The whiskey slipped from his fingers; but Hylia caught the bottle before it could crash to the floorboards alongside his crumpled form. The liquid sloshed lackadaisically within; the bottle was nearly empty. “And you do not look like a Hero, Captain,” Hylia said, peering down at the floor where he lay, hood and scarf both fallen askew. She set the whiskey upon the counter, and the brown glass dimly reflected the faint glow of her long, golden hair. “But appearance oft belies the deeper truth within.” *        *        * A ruthless hangover thrashed him into waking. Hmm. Tent poles. He was in his tent, back at the warcamp. Birds twittered outside, gossiping behind his back. He sat up and groaned, shooing a fly away from his face. How...did he get here? He had no memory of the night before. “Well, that’s mighty fine,” Link said aloud, with a snort. There was much he wished he could forget; the escapades of last night were certainly the least of his troubles. Summoned by his voice, the flap of the tent lifted. The army cook poked his head in, immediately wrinkling his nose. “Captain. I see you’re awake.” “Yeah? I see it too,” Link muttered dryly. Stretching, he reached for his nearby daypack, and began rummaging through its pockets. “Do you have anything truly useful to report, Dovos?” “The soldiers grow antsy,” Dovos said. “You are not usually absent for the morning drills. Pipit wanted to wake you earlier, but left to run the drills instead.” His fingers danced between several smooth, cold objects. There was a catch. There was always a catch. “How kindhearted of Pipit to let me sleep in,” Link said, distractedly. “I sent him away from your tent.” The cook cleared his throat. “Captain, I...I never thought you to be a drinking man.” There it was. “I am not,” Link replied, and tossed a gift through the air. A single rupee landed in Dovos’ open palms. When he saw the color, the cook’s tanned face turned darker than ever. “Silver? You play a dangerous game, Captain. The Knights of Hylia must abstain from alcohol. You know this.” “And a man on his deathbed is gifted spirits to drown the pain,” Link snapped. “If Hylia so desires, she may strike me down. Frankly, it would be a mercy.” So saying, he threw another rupee at the man. This time, it was gold. Dovos’ eyes went wide. “I appreciate your concern,” Link said, voice hardening, “but my business is my own. Consider this my token of thanks for carrying me back, and mind that you do not follow me on my private outings again.” “I did not carry you back, sir,” Dovos stammered, fumbling with the rupees. Link scowled. “Un—understood, Captain.” The cook ducked, and the flap closed after him. Blasted headache. Link rubbed his eyes, while his dry, dirty hair fell over his face like a veil. What had become of him the evening before? Had he stumbled back here alone? In the dark? Miles from camp? No...someone had to have been with him. Hiding his intoxicated state from the soldiers. Ensuring no one took advantage of him on the way. Keeping him from getting lost. With a sigh, Link loosened the scarf on his neck, and then threw the soiled fabric to the corner of the tent. As if that would happen. No one ever cared that much. ~ Next Chapter >>> (Coming Soon)

[classiqals]

{mena massoud, 30, cisman, he/him} We are so glad to see you safe, (SPY) PERSONAL GUARD KAMAL HATTEM of TURKEY (EGYPT)! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are ROMANTIC and LIGHT-FOOTED enough to handle it. Just don’t let your PARANOIA bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS FAKE.

BASICS;

nicknames:  kam, to his friends (only his closest friends would know his birth name and may use it when angry/serious/in extreme EXTREME private)

sexuality:  bisexual.

relationship: struggling with lingering feelings, single, always mingling more than he should be.

date of birth:  june 19th.

zodiac sign:  gemini.

moral alignment: chaotic lawful.

hobbies: music & art, but only admiring. long strolls, fast horses, beautiful faces, luxurious meals, and quiet, cool evenings for cuddling and swimming. not a fan of reading, excellent at sneaking, loves to gossip, great memory. loves love.

dislikes: nosy questions, rejection.

languages spoken:  egyptian, turkish, arabic, english.

politics/loyalty: loyal politically only to egypt and will pretty much do anything for the job, but has found great loyalty towards the turkish royals, which can be confusing at times for kamal. even so, there is hardly anything he wouldn't do to finish a job; and he has killed to maintain his cover before.

inspirations: the atoner, the fraud, the elusive, the casanova, the charlatan...

DETAILS;

has been stationed in turkey within the royal court for three years now, and has worked on previous assignments for egypt as an undercover operative in other royal courts.

currently he functions as a bodyguard for one of the royals, and accidentally fell in love with them. this compromised his position greatly, and now someone is aware of his double life, which has him stressed. it also ruined the relationship between them, at least for the time being.

a notorious flirt, has had a long string of lovers (usually, left heartbroken), but has only truly felt real love once or twice in his life, and it terrifies him.

his real name is not kamal, and he lies even about his birthplace, even about little things, at times - it's as if he has no idea who he is, or what he wants, and is a chameleon who slides between people without managing to land on one. it is safe to say that you cannot trust anything that he says.

CONNECTIONS;

this shall be filled out as i get to plotting essentially

BACKSTORY;

this has been redacted for security reasons by the egyptian royalty i'll write this later

[rist-ix]

Hi, first of all, I just wanted to say how much I love your sparxshipping stories! I've been completely obsessed with them, and I'm just re-reading them over and over until a new chapter comes. Righ now, I'm re-reading Sparked and I'm wondering what would've happened if Valtor's finale plan had worked. If Bloom had given in and stayed with Valtor in order to save her friends. Would it have turned into a more twisted and smuttier Beauty and The Beast?

I… have never actually thought about that. I was pretty set on the showdown with the ancestresses from the beginning, and Valtor's plan was more build up than anything. But that question is so delicious there's only one way to do it justice. With a snippet! Full chapter to follow

He finds her on the higher terraces of Cloud Tower. Leaning against the railing, head lowered and arms wrapped around herself.

Lightning flashes from the clouds below, illuminating her silhouette. He'd only left her for a few minutes, he's well aware of that, but it had felt so much longer. It's not like he had seriously considered she would try to run away. She's already gone too far for that, was too determined to save her friends. But the mere possibility…

No, he felt so much better now that he had her in his sight. And from now on, he thinks with a bitter, satisfied kind of relief, it could always be this way. If he told her so, she'd never be beyond his reach again.

He closes the distance between them in four long steps, the restlessness in his nerves finally settling when he wraps his arms around her waist, kisses her shoulder where her shirt had slid down her arm.

Bloom stiffens, but doesn’t pull away.

“Is it done?”

He'd roll his eyes if he weren’t so preoccupied with savoring this moment.

“Of course, dearest” he says softly, never straying too far from her skin. “All is as promised.”

As it was meant to be.

He nudges her neck with his nose and presses another kiss above her pulse. And she may be angry with him, miserable even, but she cannot hide how her breathing goes shallow for a moment. How the fine hair at her nape rises, goosebumps spreading over her skin.

“The armies have retreated,” he prevents another question, another doubt from her lips. “Both Eraklyon's and Solaria's. The Trix left the city and are to return to Isis immediately. Your teachers and friends are perfectly safe and unharmed.”

She doesn’t relax, not fully, but there's a quiet, slow exhale that leaves her. Softens her stance ever so slightly.

“I want to see them,” she demands. “In person, at Alfea. To make sure they—“

“No.”

His gaze darkens and he pulls her against him as if to restrain her. As if he would have to. Bloom bares her teeth at that, he can hear it in her voice.

“I don’t trust you!” she hisses. “You've lied to me before. I have to see them for myself, a-and explain things to them!”

He'd kill them all before allowing her to hear another word from them. The only reason she came to him at all was because he ensured she would be isolated, cut off from warning voices and the reminders of what she would leave behind.

If he wants to keep her, she cannot be exposed to their influence again.

Not until he can be certain of her loyalty. Never, if he gets his way.

“I have spells you can use to look for them,” he waves her off. “You may use Cloud Tower's own if you don’t trust mine. But you will not return, Bloom. Not if you want them to remain safe.”

He doesn’t think she'd go back on her word, not if he has kept his. And she knows he could easily replicate this day's threats, or do even worse if she betrays him.

But he doesn’t trust Faragonda. Or her friends, for that matter. If Bloom told them of her decisions, while still in their reach…

His grip on her tightens, and he looks past her into the roiling clouds below.

He has no doubt that Faragonda would prevent her from returning to him. That her friends would help their teacher in this, and that Bloom would be unable to fight back against the people she held dear.

He will not risk it. Risk her.

“But they don’t know what happened to me,” she tries again, somewhat straining against his grasp, but not enough to make him let go. “They'll be worried, I have to let them know I’m okay!”

He couldn’t care less. Really, he might just prefer it if they thought her dead.

But he's not arrogant enough to count on their ignorance. It's almost certain that Stella of Solaria will put one and one together and suspect his involvement, draw the right conclusions. If she tells Faragonda what she knows, they will be able to tell well enough why his armies and threats disappeared so suddenly.

They'll know they were never his target to begin with. A mere distraction, pawns on a board meant for two players only.

He likes that image. Continuing that line of thought, he'd have captured the Queen and set the King checkmate. An image he likes even more.

“They'll live,” he tells her, indifferent. “I will send them a message, if the matter is so important to you.”

“But—“

“Don’t mistake my restraint for mercy, Bloom. We both know I have none.”

She falls quiet. Worries her lip with her teeth, most likely, and turns her face away from him.

He smiles into her hair.

It's over. She's his.

It may have taken months, allies and threats he'd usually reserve for wartimes only, but she's here. Sworn to him, won through her own choice and his careful machinations.

He's not in the habit of doubting himself, but there were times when he'd suspected this one person, this one fairy might be beyond even his ambitious grasp. When he'd considered that nothing would be able to move Bloom of Domino, last of her line, if she did not wish to be moved.

And maybe that remains true. Her desires regarding him had always been obvious, and she's dared to seek him out before, even when it cost her. To say that some part of her wanted to be here, and was glad for the excuse of some selfless sacrifice, would not be a lie. Not the full truth either, but Valtor seldom bothers with that anyway.

It doesn’t matter, in the end. Not when she is here, in his arms, and he has the power to keep it that way.

-

I’ve made a deal with @for-want-of-a-nail to write this, so this is just a snippet for now. I’ll post the full sparklet on ao3 sometime today or tomorrow!

[minniefights]

Update #10 - 2 weeks in the ICU

We’re marking our 2nd week in the ICU. Nothing much has changed since my last update; the intubation has already been removed and Mom’s breathing has been fairing well and stable, however her Blood Pressure has not really normalized yet. It still drops to a critical level and that’s what keeps us here in the ICU. As soon her BP gets better then we can be moved to a private room.

Praying Unceasingly

It’s peaceful and quiet here in our room. What very much helps to be so is our prayers throughout the day. We usually start the day with our morning prayer time with worship and morning meditation around 8AM. At 11 AM and 5PM, when my uncle (priest) visits, we pray the Liturgy of the hours. And finally, we do our night prayers, which consists of the “Stay with Me” Prayer by Padre Pio, Prayer to St Michael, Intercessions, Psalm 4, Psalm 91 and Song of Simeon. I know that so many people are also prayer for us, so thank you so so much for storming the heavens!

Other “prayers” are in the form of asking God for mercy. When the day is long and tiring, when Mom is in so much pain, when we see the partial bill, when after weeks of medication some of her lab results just doesn’t seem to normalize yet, when all we could muster is a “Lord, have mercy” I believe that is prayer too. Going about the daily chores and necessities, that too is worship.

Chemotherapy Plans

The Hematologist is already drafting on her chemotherapy plan. She earlier mentioned that the treatment will be aggressive. However, she won’t be able to perform it until her infection (Pneumonia) completely subsides or her BP normalizes. The meds for chemo cannot be purchased here in Iligan. I had to order it from Manila, so upon the doctor’s order, I have already purchased a month-long worth of chemo meds (injectables and oral). The doctor also mentioned that meds could also be purchased at a cheaper rate in India. Lucky us, some friends are traveling from India to the Philippines for a conference this month. And so I was able to purchase ahead of time, 4-months worth of medicines at 60% cheaper price. I’m acting in faith to believe Mom will live long enough to undergo these treatments (and by God’s grace get better!). As per chemo meds, we’re covered up until Mid-March. But she also has a ton of other meds on the side, of which I shall think about later on.

ICU Stories

In the ICU, there are so many heartbreaking patient’s stories. Just today, 2 patients have passed away, may the Lord grant them eternal rest. My Mom’s room, however, is situated in a separated area with walls, so we’re a bit isolated from the other patients. So Mom is asleep and unbothered most of the time.

But there are also so many stories hope in these walls. One story which stood out to me is this 10 yr old girl who met an accident and is now in coma for more than 2 weeks. Yet whenever I could take a glimpse at the hope of her family, I am so encouraged. They aren’t giving up on her even if she had 1% chance to live, though she had to be transferred to a public hospital that could lessen the cost for her family to keep her alive. But I could imagine, if only that girl would have moved only a finger, they would have rejoiced so much! Yet even now, that she’s still asleep, with no significant chances to be awake, her family still keeps the faith and still hopes and against hope.

How much more faith and hope do we have for my Mom, who has now been extubated, now she can talk (but very minimally still), eat a bit of soft foods, and drink small amounts of liquid? She is able to communicate, pray and be aware of her surroundings! All the more, our hope is in the Lord who created heaven and earth, and in whose hands our lives are held. Let His will be done.

[scarlet-cookie]

Day 5 Ink Demonth (late again) : Benevolent

BENDY : The Untrusted AU

(Pre BATDR)

“O, benevolent machine and ink. 

Hear this plead, from a poor soul crying out.

For this feeling buried deep within cannot be freed, for I cannot be who I truly am. I seek your aid and guide, and I swear on this oath that I will repay you as you have helped me. May your will be heard and done through those that have touched you and mine…”

‘Adam’ whispered this incantation softly at night, being careful to not wake up his father.

What a strange and complicated incantation, he wondered. It should work, though, according.. if Mister Gray’s notes weren’t lying.

He looked up at the old machine.

Quiet.

But he can hear something.

“Hello?”

Suddenly, Adam felt a distorting feeling course through his entire body. It was as if he was being sucked into a whirlpool, deep, deep deep into the cold.. black..

Ink.

“Hello?” The same voice repeated again, a strange, nearly ethereal voice, but sounded like many voices speaking on top of each other.

“Ah.. hah….” Adam panted, still shocked from the sensation. He blinked, his eyes scanning his environment.

Just. Nothing. Just darkness, all around.

“Hello?” Adam repeated again.

“You called me?” The voice spoke.

“Where.. are you?” Adam asked. It was a bit disconcerting to be making a conversation with something you can’t see, or know what it looked like.

Nothing replied, nor appeared.

Then.

“You..” The voice trailed off.

“Yes?”

SWOOSH!!!! Hundreds of ink tendrils swept through the void, reaching for Adam. It grabbed and pinned the young man to what should’ve been emptiness earlier, now a solid wall.

“Ouch!!!” Adam groaned, hurt. What the hell is this thing doing?

A figure appeared from the darkness. Something.. someone deformed, unrecognizable, made out of ink, with the exception of its eyes of glowing, yellow vortexes. It still twisted and contorted as it staggered towards the restrained Adam, but it seemed to be trying its best to resemble.. a man in his early thirties.. someone Adam felt like he has seen before.

“You.. look familiar..” what Adam presumed to be the entity of the machine said. “Nathan Arch?” 

“My.. father.. right..” Adam tried to speak through the restraints. “What..”

“Oh.” The ink mumbled. “Alright then. Nathan Arch Jr? So you.. found the incantation? By how? My interest is piqued.” It seemed to be quite curt.

“..Alan Gray.” Adam whispered. He took lengths to find the man’s personal research, about the machine. It’s half a miracle he’s not dead right now.

“Alan?” Ink sounded nearly surprised. “You’re one skilled boy, then.”

“Thanks.” Adam sighed. 

“So, what were you hoping to say to me?” Ink asked. Although its voice made it seem like it was cheery, Adam could feel a twinge of sorrow in it. As if it was hopeless.

Adam thought.

Cut to the chase. Make it swift. 

He had an outline of his plan already.

“…Joey Drew Studios.”

Ink’s demeanor shifted faster than Adam has ever seen.

“What?”

“Tell me about you, and Joey Drew Studios.” Adam spoke.

Ink went quiet.

“Why?” Its voice dropped low.

“I will use the knowledge.. to heed to your will.” He replied carefully. “I wish to devote myself to you as Alan Gray did.”

Ink stared at him.

“You have something else in mind too, don’t you?” Ink asked.

“…” Adam had nothing to say to that.

“Are you certain that this is the way to… prove yourself to your father?” It asked again.

“Positive.” Adam replied curtly. 

Ink stayed silent for long. So long Adam was starting to get afraid he might get rejected.. and.. what else could he do? This.. this is another level of desperation he held. He can’t even stay shameless in front of the entity.

“Alright, then.” The ink finally spoke. “I see. But are you aware of the consequences that’ll follow once you become one with me?” 

Adam thought about it.

Yes.

Because this man called Nathan Arch Jr.. is a hollow shell of a person he should be.

What the ink may bring out, would not be out of his control.

He knew himself well.

Very well.

“Yes.”

“And are you ready to accept them- of course you are..” Ink cut in the middle, reading straight through him.

“Mhm.” Adam nodded.

“Alright then.”

SKRK!!!!

Adam nearly screamed. One of the ink tendrils grew into a thorn that had pierced through his right eye, or.. more like.. took it from him. He watched as his.. eyeball.. floated over to the entity.

“To seek answers and knowledge.” It said. “Your eye.. I’ll let you share a portion of my sight with me. Is that a first swell deal to start off with, since you’re looking for the truth?”

“Yes… it.. is” Adam was trying his best to keep his cries back. It hurt. It hurt so bad.

“Looking for” and took his eye. Is that supposed to be a figurative joke?

“It’s not a figurative joke.” Ink shot back. “Wait a day or two.. I don’t know. Time works weird here. But what you’re looking for, I’ll give you..”

“Thank.. you.” Adam mumbled through the pain.

Ink narrowed its ‘eyes’ at Adam.. or Nathan Arch Jr.. or.. whatever other aliases he might come up with. What an elusive figure.. it wasn’t everyday The Ink met someone like him.

Did it really trust.. this.. man again?

But beyond the vicinity of Joey Drew, it seemed like those he were close too seemed to know loyalty much better than him...

And, what else, has it got to lose?

If anything.. it means something new is about to happen. Something exciting. Something that will push this stalemate, that it’s on the losing side, forward.

“Alright then.” Ink said. “Off you go, my new disciple.. this machine and its secrets will be unveiled.. to you.”

(At first the art was gonna come before the writing, but I don’t have time to do it today. Please take this Wilson-and-how-he-lost-his-eye-fanfic in the meantime.)

[paintedscales]

First kiss asks: On a mission :)

Hiya, Umbral! Sorry it took me a long time to get to this. I actually...really got into writing whatever it was I was writing for this and...ended up with something so much longer than I anticipated. So...for this ask specifically, I'm only providing a snippet. If you want to read the whole part, here's the link. :')

In the meantime!

Word Count: 1,635

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

“I trust you overheard?” Nomin asked once the door had been closed behind her and the privacy curtains drawn.

“Aye…” was Estinien’s simple response.

"Good…I wasn't sure I kept the communication open." Nomin then spoke less directly to Estinien. "That means the Coalition heard everything as well, yes? Are we moving forward with an extension of assignment?"

"We'll put in a request for funds at the next stop in Gridania. Pending on what happens, accompany Cirina as long as it takes to ensure her safety to Othard. We cannot afford hostilities between the people of the Steppe and the greater part of Aldenard as a whole." Aymeric’s voice came through clear on the other end of the communication link. "Will the two of you be fine with the prolonged arrangement?"

"... I mean…we're engaged, so I suppose we have to be…" Nomin replied, not really thinking about how that sounded to someone who was not aware of the impromptu arrangement that had been thought up on the spot..

Silence hung thick between everyone for a long moment.

“... I beg your pardon?” Aymeric sounded incredibly bemused by the reveal. “You’re what?”

“Listen not to her jests, Aymeric.” Estinien’s tone was almost annoyed, and his brow was set in a furrow. “‘Tis only a cover we have created to play the part of being on this damned train in the first class without credentials for being part of a business. Though I suppose she does raise a good point. If we are playing the role of a soon-to-be-married couple, it would behoove us to remain together -- as insufferable as she can be.”

“He loves me~” Nomin cooed, earning a frown from him.

Lucia was heard clearing her throat. “As glad as I am to hear you having a good time, this assignment is not a vacation. Remember that the peace between the Eorzean Alliance and the Steppe -- perhaps even the whole Eastern Triumvirate -- may very well be at stake should anything happen to Cirina.”

Nomin’s expression and tone fell to seriousness at Lucia’s words. “Yes, you’re right. Apologies. We’ll do everything in our power to keep her safe and protected while maintaining our roles and keeping the Coalition quiet.”

“Good. Let us know when you’ve arrived in Gridania proper. Should be a couple bells at this point.”

“Will do. Closing communications for now.” And with that, Nomin had tapped her linkpearl, hearing the faint chime of the pearl’s connection being halted. Her attention turned to Estinien, who seemed to have been staring at her, that semi-annoyed expression still evident on his face. In response, Nomin could only place her hands on her hips as she stared at him.

“Cast your gaze elsewhere,” Estinien sighed, turning away from Nomin. He brought a hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose momentarily. He clearly regretted being the one to instigate their sudden cover of being an engaged couple.

“Oh, but dearest…I just love gazing upon you~” Nomin teased. She then went over and sat down next to Estinien. She sighed softly, thinking about how the two of them would certainly make a poor couple when others that were in committed relationships would witness them.

Her lips parted, a suggestion coming to mind. However, hesitance made the words stay lodged in her throat. Nomin was very well nervous about making such a suggestion for the two of them. She could feel the heat of a flustered blush spreading quickly up her neck and across her cheeks. Hells, the heat was even on her forehead and nose.

“Out with it.” Estinien had taken notice.

Nomin took in a breath.

“Kiss me.”

“What!?” For once in Nomin’s life, she saw utter shock and bewilderment on Estinien’s face -- even if it was underneath the guise of a glamour, she could see him for who he was past it. It would have been funny were it not for the fact that Nomin felt her heart picking up its pace within her chest. It thumped so noticeably, and she could hear the beating in her ears.

“W-We’re gonna be an engaged couple in this assignment thanks to you! Kiss me! Like you mean it! Might as well get used to it since this assignment may very well be a moon or two in length!” Nomin blurted out. Her miqo’te ears had done a good job at being expressive, because she could see them flattened against her head as a sign of embarrassment in the reflection of a polished copper pipe that ran up along the wall.

Just as Nomin was sure she was red as a rolanberry, she saw color flooding into Estinien’s face as well. Though she was not too sure if he was flustered and embarrassed, or annoyed on the verge of being upset with her. Either one was easy enough to believe to be true.

Eventually, however, he had let out a sharp scoff before removing the pin from his jacket and allowing his form to shimmer back into his true appearance. Likewise, he had grabbed Nomin’s hand and slid the ring off her finger, making her own form shimmer back to being the midnight au ra that she was.

“What are you--”

“Quiet. ‘Tis easier to know your horns are there versus being accidentally stabbed by them,” Estinien said. He pocketed both glamour accessories before looking into Nomin’s eyes. They were both unconcealed now, able to stare directly into each others’ eyes and truly see one another. No guises, no deception…just them.

Estinien leaned in, placing a hand against the side of Nomin’s neck. His warmth was intoxicating to Nomin, if only because the chill of Coerthas had often left her wanting. But then the gentleness with which he laid his lips upon her own gave rise to emotions previously felt that day. Though the kiss had started off stiff and somewhat emotionless, when Nomin pressed forward and reciprocated was when Estinien shifted and pulled her into him.

Closing her eyes, Nomin felt…lost to the sensations and the warmth. It was surprising how right the moment felt between them. The kiss between them felt right enough to be…well, frightening. Yet, instead of pulling away, Nomin lifted her own hand and placed it against Estinien’s cheek, ensuring that it was there so that she knew whether or not her horns were about to poke into him or not.

‘This is an act. That’s all it is. It must be convincing…’ Nomin’s rational thoughts clawed and grasped their way to the surface.

Nomin finally pulled away and looked down between them. She rested her hands against Estinien’s collar, not exactly wanting to look him in the eye after that. Were she still glamoured, she could have perhaps managed it -- using a different appearance always gave her a little more confidence, after all. Even if just a bit pending on the situation.

Instead, Nomin just felt the heat upon her face, the fire that consumed it. She heard the thrumming of her heartbeat -- hells, she even felt it as it coursed through her veins. She was so painfully aware of the situation. What she hated most is that she wanted more. Nomin wanted to kiss Estinien again. For now, though, she had to savor his arms still yet wrapped around her.

“Um… Great! Yes, great…” Nomin managed, trying to use her words to cut what she felt was awkward tension between them now. Swallowing, she pushed herself away from Estinien, getting up and going to the window. Pushing the curtain out of the way, she gazed out at the snowy landscape that the train was still chugging through. “More like that, and we can certainly pass as a devoted couple.”

“You are going to need more than a convincing kiss to fool people. But I assumed you already knew that, draped upon me the way you were in the dining car.” Estinien took the glamours from his pocket and handed the ring back to Nomin before pinning his accessory back onto his jacket.

“Showing physical affection like that is far easier than…” Nomin stopped herself, taking in a breath and sighing as she toyed with the ring between her fingers instead of putting it back on. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

The quiet shared between them after Nomin admitted that felt like a cloying miasma to her. She was just so acutely aware of herself and the sensations -- both good and bad -- that ran from her head to the tips of her toes.

“You were not terrible,” Estinien finally replied with a shrug. His form had returned to the dusty-haired elezen with straighter ears. “Certainly could have been worse. Though I find it hard to believe you had yet to kiss someone with your role in the Coalition.”

“Never really played the part of someone’s spouse or loved one… Till you came out and improvised it. Where did it come from and why?”

“As I told Aymeric, it seemed the most suited relationship to have. Our identification and papers do not present us as business partners nor owners. All we have are the false identifications, and each other,” Estinien said.

Nomin returned the curtain to being closed before sitting down on the side opposite Estinien. She tapped her fingers on the seat cushion.

“Right. Well…is your offer still on the table for me to get some rest? I think I need to process this through a nap…” Nomin was in the process of putting her ring back on when she asked her question. By the time she had finished her sentence, she was back to being that violet-haired miqo’te she boarded the train as. And so there they were once more as Ruyah and Aurrex.

“By all means. Rest. I can take care of watching over the Steppe diplomat and the car in the meantime.”