#i might have to draw them w out facial hair from now on they just look SO decrepit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spacecadet-ticklesinspace · 2 years ago

Note

Hi there! for the sentence starters could we please get Lee! Peter 1 and lers! P2 and 3? Maybe, “ahaw, no way! Your little tummy is ticklish?” Pfff I thought it’d be cute, ur a super good writer!

(Awww! Thank you Anon ☺️ I'm so glad you like the stories ❤️ Peter 2 and 3 picking on Peter 1 is a fave of mine and I'm thankful to be able to write them all together :) Hope you enjoy!)

"Ahaw, no way! You're little tummy is ticklish?"

Peter 1 blushed. "Shush!"

"No can do Squirt." Peter 3 teased as he wiggled a finger under Peter 1's chin. "Youwr juwst sow cuwte!"

Peter 1 turtled. "Ihm nohot thohough!"

"Are you kidding?" Peter 2 added as he started scribbling across his youngest brother's stomach. "Youw're the cuwtest thing we've evewr seen."

One squeaked and shot his hands down to grab Peter 2's wrists.

Two smirked. "Oh . . . Is your tummy really ticklish?"

"N-noho!"

Peter 2 slowly wiggled his fingers across Peter 1's tummy. "I think it is."

Peter 1 blushed even harder and he couldn't stop giggling. "Duhuhude!"

Another finger started tracing his abs. "And look at these abs. I bet they're super tickly."

Peter 1 squealed and moved one hand over to grab Peter 3's wrists. All of their teasing tickled him even more!

"You're right Three, they are super tickly."

"How many do you think he has? We should probably count them."

"Dohont cohount thehem!"

"One . . . two . . . three--."

"THREEEEE!" Peter 1 snorted.

Both older brothers cooed at the sound.

"Youwre juwst full of cuwte tickwy sounds."

"Nahat cuhute!"

"Stop lying!"

"Ihm not!"

Suddenly, a finger wiggled into Peter 1's belly button and Two's innocent voice asked, "What does this button do?"

Peter 1 squealed and erupted into the loudest giggles yet.

"Oh my gosh it's a giggle button!"

"No way! You have an actual giggle button! How come you never told us!"

"Ihi dihidnt knohow!"

"Well now you do," Peter 2 added.

"Gehet ohout-eeeeh!"

"But I have to get all the giggles out."

Peter 1 gently pushed on Peter 2's wrist and snorted. "No yohou dohon't!"

Two had mercy on the youngest and stopped tickling the youngest's belly button.

"You're so cute, we just have to tickle you."

One scowled. "How does that make any sense?"

Two poked him. "In older brother reasoning it does."

Peter 1 flinched and giggled.

"Aww, you look just like a little kid." Peter 3 teased.

"You know what games you usually play with kids?"

"What might that be Two?"

Peter 2 started poking random spots on Peter 1's stomach. "Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man. Bake me a cake as fast as you can."

Peter 1 flinched and giggled at each poke. A dark blush bloomed from his cheeks to his ears. "Shuhut uhup! Ihm nohot fihive!"

"I know this one!" Three exclaimed as he ran his fingers up and down Peter 1's tummy. "Roll it."

"Guhuhuys!"

Two drummed his fingers into One's tummy. "Pat it."

"Hehey!"

Three used his finger to draw a B. "Mark it with a B."

"Cohome ohon!"

Two leaned down. "Can't forget to add a raspberry."

One squealed as he blew.

Three then wiggled a finger into the youngest's belly button. "Then we put it in the oven for baby, Peter 2, and me!"

One pushed at Three's hand. "Gehet ohout ohof there!"

Three lifted his finger with a chuckle. "Your giggle button is really ticklish."

One's cheeks burned bright red. "Don't call it thahat!"

"Too late," Two warned. "Already been changed."

Peter 3 absent-mindedly scratched his face as he chuckled with Peter 2. He was trying to grow out his facial hair and for the past few days his face had been itchy. Many of his coworkers had been teasing him about how young he looked so he thought he could stop the teasing by growing it out. Now he just wanted to shave it because it was aggrevating his skin.

A lightblub clicked on in Three's head and he smirked down at his younger brother.

One's eyes widened. "W-w-whahat?"

Three playfully leaned down. "I want you to tell me how my beard is coming in."

"Ihit looks g-greheat man."

Three shook his head and chuckled. "This test has nothing to do with looks. It has to do with feeling."

"F-feheeling?"

Three looked down at Peter 1's tummy.

The youngest was so confused until he watched Peter 3's head dip down.

"Wait!"

Peter 3 nuzzled in to his tummy and Peter 1 screamed.

Two leaned back a little. "Wow! Ihi think you killed him."

One bucked and wiggled in Peter 3's hold. He placed a hand on the back of Three's head. "KNOHOCK IHIT OFF!"

"Hold on, I have to try our cake first."

"What!"

Three moved to One's side and pretended to take a bite while adding in chewing noises.

Needless to say, One was in stitches. "MERCY!"

Three chuckled and lifted his face, carefully disentangling his hair from Peter 1's grip. "Gotta let go bud."

One finally let go of his hair. While he took a moment to catch his breath, Peter 2 smiled. One looked about 10 years younger with his cheeks a vibrant shade of red and his eyes shinning with mirth. The inner child that had to grow up way too fast.

The child that deserved to be a child.

"So," Peter 3 piped up, breaking the reverie, "how would you rate my beard?"

Peter 1 playfully pushed his face. "A shahave!"

Peter 2 wheezed at the expression on Peter 3's face. "Sounds like he's ready for more. What do you say Three?"

"Oh, he needs it after insulting my masterpiece!"

One gulped and giggled nervously. "Uhum . . ."

Two gently stroked his hair. "What do you say bud? Up for one more round?"

"Uhuhum. . ."

"It's up to you."

The youngest paused before giving a small nod.

Three playfully poked his younger brother. "You better believe it'll be a good one after the beard comment."

Instead of a verbal response, One blew a raspberry back at his older brother.

The taller Spiderman couldn't hide the smile on his face.

"Hey Three?" Two smirked. "I think your raspberries could use some work."

The taller Spiderman put a hand to his chest. "Me? I'm a much better raspberry giver than you!"

"Well good thing we have the cutest judge right here to tell who is better."

Both brothers turned to the youngest who stared at them with wide eyes. "Uh-oh."

Two leaned down. "Watch how a real raspberry expert does it."

One squealed as a raspberry was blown into his side. "NAHAHA!"

"Pfft! That was weak! Let me show you how it's done!"

The two alternated raspberries back and forth until Peter 1 was in stitches and snorts.

"IHI---I CAHAHANT!"

"Aw. He can't decide."

Two playfully leaned down. "Are you calling a tie?"

One immediately covered his stomach with his arms. "Yehes *hic*! Noho more."

Three ruffled Peter 1's hair. "Fine. We'll settle for a tie."

Peter 1 groaned and covered his eyes. "Yohou guhuys *hic* ahare embarrahassihing."

Two raised an eyebrow. "Funny you should say that."

"Why?"

Two grinned. "You never told us to stop."

One curled up even smaller. "Shush!"

Three plopped next to his brother. "One of these days you'll stop using moody teenager speak and actually say the words thank you."

One groaned and remained hidden.

Meanwhile, Peter 2 eased himself down to lay on One's other side. "And maybe one of these days you'll actually see how adorable you are."

"For now, we'll keep telling you until you believe it."

Both brothers turned to Peter 1 and waited for a response.

Three sat up a little. "One?"

When Peter 2 gently pulled back his brother's hands, their hearts melted. Peter 1 was fast asleep between his two brothers.

Peter 2 gently laid down the youngest's arms back down before dropping a kiss on the youngest's forehead. "Night Pete."

Three placed a kiss on the other side of his forehead. "We love you."

No matter how old Peter 1 got or how many trials he faced, he would always be their adorable baby brother

#lee peter 1 #ler peter 2 #ler peter 3 #ticklefic

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theawesomeaki-kun · 3 years ago

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An artstyle meme of my childhood inspirations! Drawn from 2016年. I butchered a lot of them but, close enough :’)

Ridiculously lengthy description from DeviantArt:

You can find the blank template here: fav.me/dalsfkf

If you're using it, make sure to tag me so I can see your work! ;w;

Okay, so, I've wanted to do this for a long time now. xD

Took me 3 days to make, but holy flying potatoes, it's all worth it. My younger self can rest in peace now. ; n ;

There were a bunch of art styles I wanted to try to mimic but I decided to cut it in sets and start with this one for now; a set as a tribute to the art styles that helped me develop and improve my very own from the beginning of time--Featuring my male OC persona [*at this time lol], Akihiko Shourikawa.

I'm aware most of these are anime adaptions (thus pure cell-shading with my coloring)and perhaps the company that animated the series did some changes on the original art style, but eh. I think the spirit of the original art style's still there haha

I also thought of including other series that have been part of my childhood like

Cardcaptor Sakura,Yakitate Japan,Samurai X,Slam Dunk,Yamato Nadeshiko, Special A, Kaichou wa Maid-Sama, and Ranma 1/2 but those weren't really much help in my art style's development (that, or I just really couldn't attempt to mimic their styles x'D)

And so, here's 11 art styles that made it in this art meme that I owe a lot with my own from childhood.

The hyperlinks will redirect you to the author/artist's and series' information, as well as the character's picture that I used as a reference for drawing.

Oh and this lengthy lengthy description per art style is just a bit of my reflection, perhaps with some really old drawings of mine occasionally linked here and there to see how they influenced me haha it's too long, carry on if you must xD

GOSHO AOYAMA ( Edogawa Conan fromDetective Conan ) This is one of my very first anime series, and it scared the living lights out of me while simultaneously making me feel like aiming to become a real detective someday.(Buuut reality's a douche, real life detective work ain't that fun, and I got no brains for it. Dreams shattered.) What intrigued me the most was the way the nose was drawn in the series. Noses in animes were usually triangular in shape, but this one has a literal triangle as a nose. XD It had a very distinct art style that was very easy to mimic for me, and helped me with mischievous facial expressions like the symbol smirk Shinichi/Conan usually does in the show. It is much, much simplistic compared to the other art styles, but it's very memorable and neat.

NAOKO TAKEUCHI ( Tuxedo MaskBut I used a different character as reference hahafromSailor Moon ) This one brings me back to good 'ol days haha. I remember being addicted to Sailor Moon at one point and some other similar shows like Sugar Sugar Rune and I made (or attempted to, anyway) my own Mahou Shoujo story...it's giving me the nostalgia and cringe. .v. Anyway. Her art style was certainly girly, but I liked it. The earliest memory I have of this is basically sparkles. This might as well be where my love for sparkles originated haha I didn't do very good in imitating it, but I tried my best. xD Akihiko's hair wasn't the easiest to emulate into Sailor Moon's style. And I was trying not to imagine the kimochii face meme, but failed midway. I am so sorry Naoko Takeuchi.

HIROYUKI TAKEI ( Yoh Asakura fromShaman King ) Because of an older sister, I've been influenced and made fun of from watching a lot of shoujo/mahou-shoujo animes. But there was also a point in my life where it was all pure Shounen. Shaman King is part of that. xD Aside from the characters themselves in the series, I found the art style cool; The eyes were barely anything special and it was only black fill with a bit of circle lighting on an upper portion (for the most characters), but it looked cool and even much more expressive compared to some anime styles that have full detailed eyes. And for the lols, enjoy this and this and this Shaman King fanarts I made when I was...8? 9? 10?? Basically really really weabish and kiddish orz to make you feel good about yourself and your art. Dear lord. xD

YOSHIHIRO TOGASHI ( Killua Zoldyck fromHunterXHunter ) You cannot talk about HunterXHunter without hearing me fangaying into the distance. Jk, I just really love this series. The actual show aside, the art style was...honestly, okay. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't really that good either. But it shined the best in its best moments in the anime. Oh and I'm talking about the 1999 version one, btw. x'D After some years went by and just recently I replayed the series, and it inspired me a lot. There was one time in class I doodled and it came out kiiiinda similar to Killua and Gon and this one random OC that I made while thinking of Komugi from rewatching the series over and over too much. JK who am I kidding, there's no such thing as rewatching HxH "too much", amirite. And I really love Killua. Hhhhhhhiatus.

BISCO HATORI ( Tamaki Sou fromOuran Highschool Host Club ) Wow, I made Akihiko look bishie with this style o-o; Anyhoo, hands down, this is probably my most favorite reverse harem anime/manga. Outside the show, I didn't really find the art style all that appealing at first; it looked like the short and thin style similar to most shoujo stuff like Special A and whatnot. But I eventually saw the beauty of it; the gracefulness and smoothness of the style was pleasing to my eyes and I eventually loved it. I did make a fanart of the group from 2 years ago, buuut it was 'eh' xD I might as well remake it sometime. As for what it contributed to my own style, I can't think of any obvious traits but from this style, I've learned that eye highlights can also be placed at the bottom lol (because I always see them on the upper left or right and I just went with that ever since. xD)

RUMIKO TAKAHASHI ( Inuyasha fromInuyasha ) This one was the first anime series I ever binge-watched. It also influenced me the most when I was just starting with drawing, along with the series Ranma 1/2, also made by the same person. But the style I mostly absorbed was the one on Inuyasha's. My oldest drawings got burned but the ones I saved that had the most prominent Rumiko Takahashi-style influence was this and this. My eyes are cringing to death. I was like 6 or 7, dammit. Anyway, this style in general, now that I look back to it, wasn't the best. It had the old feel most 90's animes do, but it was still very memorable and still displayed coolness with Inuyasha's best moments in my memory.

AKIRA AMANO ( Sawada Tsunayoshi fromKatekyo Hitman Reborn! ) Tsuna isn't the coolest shounen protagonist, especially from the beginning of his story. Characters like Yoh and Gon were already intriguing and gave off a 'cool' feeling since the very first episode, but Tsuna was...no good. xD I always found the style on Tsuna's character a little too girly and unfitting, and it was sorta annoying at first. But when later arcs came along with other characters, I saw the variety in Akira Amano's art style; The cuteness of the arcobalenos and child characters, the girlyness of most female characters and the coolness of characters like Hibari, Lal Mirch, and especially Tsuna's dying will mode. It was amazing, and I aimed to have that sort of variety in my own style, too. I'm still struggling with that goal, but I'm slowly working on it. xD

PEACH-PIT ( Amu Hinamori fromShugo Chara! ) Oh. my. god. This was the shoujo series I got most hooked at. I was so obsessed with this series that I made so much fanart for consecutive years. Like this and this and this and ooh, this and of course this one. What can I say, I loved this series when I was a weabkid and I still love the art style up until today. I aim to make mine as cute and neat...and so far I'm failing, but I'll slowly get there. xDD And now I can see how a lot of its art style influenced my own. It's kinda cool and weird to see lol And Akihiko turning into a full shota xD

MIN AYAHANA ( Chacha fromAkazukin Chacha ) It's one of those silly old animes I really enjoyed and loved. The cute art style complimented the show very well. I found it to be similar with some other animes that aired in its time (around the 90's, I guess? I dunno, I was born in 2000 sooo... xD), but this one had bigger eyes and bigger mouths. It was...odd, but super, duper charming and cute. xD It helped me a lot with chibi expressions and developing my own chibi style in general.

YANA TABOSO ( Ciel Phantomive fromKuroshitsuji ) Yana Taboso's artstyle is one of the prettiest art styles I've ever seen. I first saw the anime, and it was great. When I took a look with the manga, holy crapola the art is just as good, if not, even better. It's unfortunate that I butchered it. XD I AM SO SORRY YANA TABOSO, I'VE DISGRACED YOUR HOLY ART STYLE-- I didn't really absorb much with this style, ( Even though I wish I did, I should revisit this series =w=; ) but upon watching the series, there was a dark time for me when my art style was changing and so confused from my desire to be alike to this style, kinda like this and this. Dark times. But I surely want to further study this art style.

And lastly, but definitely not the least,

AMY LUONG( Teddy Emmick from @Pacthesis Games (Specifically, Chrono Days Sim Date) ) Where do I even begin. Amy's my flash hero, as well as the reason why I pursued digital drawing and told my parents "Hey, I think I want a drawing tablet". Aside from spending most of my adolescent days playing her games, (wait, am I still considered adolescent now. I'm confused xD)I also splurged in attempting to make my own. It's still in the works, but hey, it's slowly comin'. xD I think this was unconsciously done by my brain, but now I can see how kinda similar my art is from hers. She's definitely one of the most biggest impact on me and my art as of today.

And so, if you got all through that, congratulations haha

And a big thank you to these artists, even if they'll never see this, they're the reason why my art is how it is today. And I wouldn't be drawing if it weren't for them. Please do check them out if you've got some time! They're wonderful and inspiring artists and creators. ^^

AND I'M SO SORRY FOR BUTCHERING YOUR STYLES OMFG I SWEAR I DID MY BEST ; A ;

Welp, now that this is done, I'm gonna go rest and start on my pending stuff haha

I'll probably make more of these, the next batch being art styles of some close drawing buddies I got.

But that's all for now, and I hope you have a great day! > w < )/

~ How about you, who were your childhood idols and inspirations? ^^ ~

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bvckbiter · 2 years ago

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If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get so good at drawing from imagination? Like, I’m trying to draw Chris rn, and it’s simply Not Working because there are no reference photos for him like there are actual actors/people and it’s making me MAD bc I can draw real people pretty well (not super realistic, but still good) but somehow I can’t draw my mental image of him. You draw Al a lot and he more or less has the same problem as Chris (no ref photos) and I was wondering how you draw from imagination so well? And if/how you find reference photos?

Having a mental image of Chris (or whoever character you wanna draw for that matter) is a really good start!! What I do is try to “zoom in” on the specific features: what kind of hair, eyes, nose, mouth, face shape would they have, that kind of stuff. You can imagine these little details separately, then thats where the reference photos come in.

My personal philosophy w reference photos is to not just stick to one face or photo. Since I have a definite mental image of what I want a character to look like, down to the specifics, it’s going to be impossible to find one singular faceclaim that I can reliably reference. One model/actor might have the eyes I imagine for Al but another might have the nose I envision. So I kinda… mentally Artbreeder them??? HAHAHAHAHAH But yeah, my Pinterest boards tend to have upwards of 10 different people as references because of this.

Then ofc the most important thing is to make sure the individual features fit together as a whole on the face itself, and that takes a lot of practice sketching. I went through many iterations of Al before coming up with the look I have for him right now. What’s vital here is 1) keeping your old stuff, because you use those as reference as well as springboards for improvement (though to do this you have to look at them,,, yuck), and 2) not being afraid to try out new features and characteristics. Another thing thats important here is finding your art style, but thats a whole different monster I wont get into since your ask is about referencing and drawing facial features.

So, in summary:

1. Zoom in on your mental image so you have the specifics of the individual facial features.

2. Get a variety of faceclaims or references!!

3. Use your old art to improve.

Thanks for the ask, Pine, and good luck w drawing our boyyyyy!! My DMs and ask box are always open if u wanna talk abt more art stuff heheh

#my asks #kai answers their asks

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kuroyuki4 · 4 years ago

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Bakusquad and skirts

Bakugou Kastuki

Hella embarrassed at first.

He’s never worn anything like this before!

It just feels so weird being able to feel the soft breeze between his thighs all of a sudden

Luckily Kiri is there to encourage him (along w/ the rest of the squad)

After some time (and lots of compliments), mans will start feeling a lot less awkward

Like his confidence is suddenly through the roof??

Acts like he was never even shy about it in the first place

Compliment him and he’ll give you a scoff and grumble out a small,“thanks” or, “whatever” as he turns away from you trying to hide his red face (unfortunately his ears give him away)

Insulting or teasing him will result in a swift blast to face accompanied by a loud, “PISS OFF ASSWIPE!”

Overall not the worst or most embarrassing thing Baku could’ve done

Kirishima Eijiro

Also very embarrassed (his face is as red as hair)

Feels kinda self-conscience at first

Really afraid the wind will blow his skirt up so he’s constantly pulling it down

Quickly gets used to it and actually enjoys having some breeze on his legs (especially when it gets hot)

Likes to twirl around and watch his skirt sway with him. It looks so cool!

Feels manly ass hell flexing in his short, frilly skirt that shows off his thigh muscles

Give this man any compliment and he’d get all nervous again

He’d say stuff like,”aw thanks man!” while rubbing the back of his neck or he may even remark that,”you’d look good in a skirt too” if you don’t wear them that often

If you tease him he won’t be too bothered. He knows how to take a joke unlike someone

Just don’t do it too much or you might actually hurt his feelings

Now insulting him will actually hurt his feelings and put a damper on his confidence

Guess he doesn’t look as good as he thought..

The squad will be there in seconds to cheer this man up again

And moments later his confidence will be back and he’d be flexing throughout the day again to show off more of his manliness

No further negative comments can ruin this guys mood!

Kaminari Denki

Feels confident af

He looks good and he knows it

Wearing a skirt is so freeing

And comfortable

Poses for any photo like a magical girl or a model (and makes sure to show off his legs)

Struts around in school with his head held high and a smug look on his face knowing that everyone’s staring cause he just looks this charming (but really they’re staring cause of his overzealous model walk and weird facial expression)

Flirts with girls more now and even tries to flirt with a couple guys

How can anyone possibly resist his charm when he’s just so attractive???

Legit feels like he can get anything or anyone in his skirt

Compliments will lead to excessive flirting and pick up lines

Any insults or negative comments won’t even faze this man,”you don’t really think that...you’re just jealous!” “too bad, you’ll never look as good as me.”

Ashido Mina

Has no problem wearing the skirt itself because she wears one normally anyway

Also has probably worn frilly skirts before so it’s nothing out of the ordinary for her

Will still feel empowered af while wearing it though

Like Kaminari, she flaunts her stuff the whole day because she knows she looks cute as hell

Won’t be as in you’re face about it as him tho but will make subtle remarks to fish out more compliments from her fellow classmates

Will definitely do random dance moves throughout the day

One, to show off more (she likes attention)

And two. it just feels so good to sway her hips to her own rhythm in her flowy kilt

Any compliment will earn you an,”aww.. thank you!” from Mina while she gives you a big, warm smile

She may even hug you depending on your chose of words

Though it’s pretty rare to see Mina embarrassed, with the right level of smoothness and kind words you may get the chance to see her turn away bashfully holding both cheeks in her hands and swooning with an,”oh stop it! you’re making me blush!”

Insults probably won’t affect her that much (she’d probably ignore them)

The most she’ll do is turn away from you calling you a,”meanie” claiming that you’re,”totally killing her vibe”

Sero Hanta

Alright, so you’re boy has never really worn a skirt before but he’d totally be willing to give it a try

Honestly not that embarrassed (generally pretty chill about it)

Will admit it is pretty comfy though (the cool breeze it nice)

Doesn’t really draw too much attention to it

It doesn’t feel abnormal wearing a skirt at all so he doesn’t really understand the judgement that comes with wearing one as a male

Like it’s just a piece of clothing??

Will honestly forget he’s even wearing one half way through the day till someone points it out

It just feels so natural

He’s very good at taking compliments and will most likely compliment you back as well

“oh, you think i look cute?” “well thank you!” “you’re looking pretty cute today too” (he winks at you whenever he compliments you)

He’s also very mature when it comes to anyone insulting him in any way

He won’t take it personally but will still be disappointed

Jirou Kyouka

The most embarrassed

She’s worn skirts before but never ones this short (it’s not revealing or anything but definitely shorter than she’s used to)

Will be blushy and awkward the whole day

Also the most self-conscience

She’s never worn these kinds of skirts before so she can’t tell if it flatters her or not

But it does

And her friends are sure to tell her that (especially Mina and Hagakure)

Cue even more blushing

Will constantly be tugging and pulling at her skirt the whole day attempting to lessen her awkwardness (and her beating heart)

But she just ends up looking more awkward doing fidgeting like that

Auggh..she’s just so nervous..

Also super scared the wind will end up blowing her skirt up and revealing everything

That would seriously be the worst!

Please grace her with all your compliments, she truly deserves it!

Sure it will turn her into a red-faced, stuttering mess but at least it’ll boost her confidence a little

“i-i..uh..um-..t-than-” ”thank..you”, she stutters out, her eyes blinking from side to side, trying to look anywhere but at you

If you find yourself to be heartless enough to insult this nervous wreck you’ll be met by a dejected expression as she hangs her head low avoiding your eyes,”o-oh i see..”

You’re focus would be on Jirou so you wouldn’t notice the firey aura coming from behind her

One minute you’re standing in front of a down cast Jirou the next you’re knocked on your ass in front of a very pissed off group of girls who had previously slapped you in the face for your harsh words

Oh, you’d better say your prayers

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kzuhadovey · 4 years ago

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promises must be kept

character: timeskip!hinata x f!reader

type: fluff

warnings: -

song recommendations: mrs.magic - strawberry guy

remember to drink your water and eat your food, i love you!!

At the ripe age of 7 years old, you made a promise.

“At 25 years old, if we’re single, we get married.” “25? That’s a little early.” “That’s old enough. I’m sure that when we’re 25 we’ll look old so no one will like us.” “Okay then.” “Okay. It’s on, Y/N.” “You’re stuck with me for life, Shoyo.”

You smiled at yourself as you find the messily scribbled paper you found deep in your drawer. It was a scrawny drawing of you and Hinata, with the words, “Y/N and Shoyo gets married when we’re 25.” The memories rush back, like a wave of nostalgia, and you sigh. If only things were that easy. You and Shoyo have been friends since the literal day you’ve been born. You guys were a package deal- you have Y/N? You get Shoyo aswell. You both told each other everything, from your first kisses to your other friends’ secrets. You supported Shoyo through his volleyball career, and he supported you throughout yours. He was the best friend you could ask for.

Until that day, you moved to Paris. You’re a writer, and you’ve had over 5 million copies of your latest book, Over The Moon. It was a love story like you usually wrote. And even though your writing career was soaring, your own love life hasn’t been so good. Yes, you were an astonishing writer with beautiful facial features, but you’ve never found the right, exact guy. He was always too pushy, or too confident- it was never the right match for you. So ever since, your love life has been incognito. You’ve mostly focused on writing for now- your book was almost finished. You just needed an ending- which you couldn’t exactly grasp. The two main characters, Tracee and Elliot, were definitely in love, but you didn't really know what to do with them. Writer’s block, as it was called.

After around an hour of staring at the blank page on your laptop, you decide to take a walk outside. It was a very beautiful day- the streets were packed with tourists and small shops were blooming with food and objects. You stared at one of the shops- a sweet, enticing Lilly grasping your attention. “Might as well just buy it.” You thought to yourself as you approached the old lady selling them. “Salut! Combien coûtent ces lis?” You said, taking a bouquet in your hands, sniffing them. “Bonjour mon cher. L'un coûte 4 euros.” The lady said as she started packing one for you. “J'en prends deux, s'il vous plaît. Je vous remercie.“ You said as you paid the lady 8 euros.

”Uhm… Pouvez-vous- a-acheter tr-trois, right? trois fleurs, s'il vo- vous plaît?“ A man beside you said. You chuckle. He was obviously not from here- he had broken french. You squinted as you tried to make sense of his sentence. ”Quoi? Je ne comprends pas!“ The lady said as she rolled her eyes, passing you your flowers. You gulped- the man seemed nervous. His cheeks were red and he was looking down of… embarrassment, maybe? ”Il veut trois de ces fleurs.“ You say, pointing to a bouquet of pink-white orchids. He looks at you with wide eyes- why’d you even want to help him? ”Oh. Ces étrangers, ils parlent à peine français.“ The old lady rolled her eyes as she prepared the bouquet. ”C'est 11 euros pour un bouquet.“ The lady said as she shoved the flowers onto the man’s chest lightly. The man seemed to catch on with the numbers as he hurriedly took out his wallet, paying the lady. ”Passez une bonne journée, ma chère.“ You say as you walk away, sniffing your flowers.

“Mademoiselle! S'il vouz plait- wait.” The man said as he rushed in front of you. He had fiery orange hair, and he had tan-ish skin. “Merci. I- I just came here, yesterday.” He said, scratching his neck awkwardly. You would usually just laugh it off and say your welcome since it wasn’t your first shenanigans with tourists. But this man was special- you recognized him. With the way he spoke, and the way he combed through his hair-

“Hinata?”

His eyes glance over to yours as the gears spin in his brain. “Y-Y/N? Ah- I found you!” He shouts, surprised. Your heart is beating so fast- you could barely recognize him. He’s grown taller over the years- and his hair’s turned more orange. “Hinata… Hello.” You mutter out. Your head can’t process this- the last time you saw him- he was literally tiny. Bruises on his arms and a big, large smile on his face. “I missed you so much!” Hinata says as he jumps to wrap you in his embrace. He smelled like citrus- sour and sweet at the same time. You nuzzle your head in his neck- you finally found your best friend. “Shoyo.” You muttered, tears pricking your eyes. Your stomach’s whirling with nervousness and your brain’s spinning with excitement.

“So… you’re a writer now!” Hinata says as the waiter gives him his coffee. You were both sat in a cafe- you’ve decided to catch up with him. “I- I saw your book in Brazil last year. You’re so famous!” You chuckle- Hinata looks hella excited. “It’s nothing, Hinata. You’re better than me- how are the others, by the way? I saw your game with the Schweden Adlers.” You cock your head to the side curiously. “Y-yes. I’m in a team with Bokuto and Atsumu now.” Hinata chuckles. He’s turned out from a scrawny middle school amateur to a literal professional player. “What are you doing in Paris?” You sip more of your hot chocolate. “I- I wanted to look for you. I heard you were in Paris.” His cheeks turn red- it was amusing, really. So, he came for you. WAIT- HE WAS LOOKING FOR YOU?? “Me? Why?” You widen your eyes in surprise. “Because- I wanted to see you! It’s the first break I’ve had in a heck long time- might aswell take a vacation too, right?” Hinata lets out a weak chuckle. “Woah- so it’s your first time here?” You ask excitedly. Hinata nods and you smile widely. “Yes!- Let’s go around- you have nothing to do, right?” You ask as you stand up. “W-well- yes- but I don’t want to- take your time up-,” Hinata says, chuckling. “No no no! It’s fine! I’m free today anyway.” You smile as you take him outside. “You’re my best friend, Shoyo. I will always make time for you.”

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You both slump on your sofa tiredly. “I love Paris so much!” Hinata says, jumping up from the sofa. You chuckle- he was always a hyper boy. “The louvre, and then Notre Dame- It’s so pretty!” Hinata says as he sits back down, sighing heavily. You chuckle softly- he was like a very hyper puppy. You both have been exploring Paris all day, talking and taking pictures. You ended the day with dinner and now you were both slumped on your sofa. You yawn and stretch your arms- before laying your head in Hinata’s lap. He was soft and warm- his thighs were very much like pillows. Hinata tenses up- your head’s in his lap. “Do you have anywhere to sleep tonight?” You ask, staring at him. He tries to relax, leaning back more. “I actually- hoped you would help me find a hotel for me.” Hinata chuckles, scratching his neck. “You can sleep in my place. We’re friends, right?” You say as you yawn again. Hinata’s eyes light up and he smiles. “Thank you!” Hinata smiles and he looks around. You’ve got a pretty tiny apartment, with the view of a flower garden. It was already pretty quiet since it was late at night but you could still hear people talking far down the road. You notice Hinata staring at the balcony view and you chuckle. “It’s pretty, right?” You ask as you made your way towards the balcony.

A wave of fresh air hits your face as you step onto the balcony. The night air is peaceful and calm- just how you liked it. “Hey, I have a question, Y/N!” Hinata says as he takes off his jacket and joins you on the balcony. “Yeah?” You ask as you look at him. You take the time to observe him more- his cheeks are a warm tone of peach and freckles dotted his face. He’s tanner than when you last saw him- he’s also gotten buffer and taller. He looks really pretty under the moonlight. “Y/N? Hello?” Hinata snaps you out of your thoughts and you smile awkwardly. “Sorry- I spaced out.” You chuckle. “It’s- okay,” Hinata says, smiling. “I need to tell you something.”

You nod and eye him more- he’s redder now- he seems nervous. “Y/N. I like you.” He mutters under his breath, looking down. Your heart drops to your stomach and you gulp. Did you hear him right?- “W-what?” He shuts his eyes nervously. “Y/N! I like you a lot! Will you marry me?!” He shouts and the minute the words leave his mouth your eyes widen. Marry?! Your head is spinning with confusion and butterflies were swarming your stomach. Your eyes are looking around frantically in an attempt to see if this was a dream. “Y/N. Do- do you like me back?” Hinata squeaks out, snapping you out of your thoughts. You think again- well, kinda. You’ve always laughed more at his jokes than others, you were touchy with him, and well- he was your first kiss. “Hinata…” You manage to mutter out and fear strikes in Shoyo’s eyes.

“Yes, I like you.” You reply slowly.

Shit shit shit- what was he gonna say- “Thank you for telling me. Don’t lie though- I really like you- and I don’t want to get my heartbroken, o-okay?” Hinata mutters out, scratching his neck. You smile a little, looking at the floor. Hinata takes a deep breath before kneeling down on one knee. “Now… will you… marry me? Please?” Your heart stops- what the hell was he doing? “We made- a pact- right? You’d marry me when you’re 25 and still- single.” Hinata mutters out and you finally remember the letter you found earlier. Wasn’t that a joke? “Will you marry me… please?” Hinata takes your hands in his and kisses them- making you blush.

Your head was very busy. Thoughts were running around and your heart was beating really fast. You didn’t know what to say- you wanted to say yes but it was so sudden, but then again you didn’t want to reject him- he just said he didn’t want to get his heart broken. “…Yes. I’ll marry you, I guess.” You say, chuckling. Hinata looks up at you- his eyes are bright and happy. “OH MY GOD- Y/N I LOVE YOU!” Hinata shouts as he takes you in his arms, wrapping you in a large hug. Your bones feel crushed- he definitely turned stronger. You giggle a little bit, nuzzling your head in his neck. “I love you so much! Y/N’s gonna be my wife!” Hinata says as he shouts across the balcony. “I’M GETTING MARRIED GUYS!!!”

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You huff in annoyance before dialing your now husband. “Yes, my wifey?” Hinata says, answering the phone. You chuckle at that silly nickname- he’s been using it ever since you two got married. “Can you pick Emmy up from daycare? They’re closing up early and I have to go to a book signing.” You say as you walk to your car. Ever since you moved to Japan with Hinata, life’s been great. Your newest book has been pretty successful, and you have a daughter with Hinata! “Ah, alright. I’ll pick her up in a sec- practice is almost done.” Hinata says. You can hear Bokuto in the background- he’s screaming and throwing balls around. “HEY SHOYO IS THAT YOUR WIFE?!” Atsumu shouts and you chuckle. “Sorry, wifey- I have to go or else Atsumu will attack you-” Hinata says as he makes a kissing noise. “I love you, bye!” The phone hangs up and you chuckle. This marriage has been a little tough since you both married early- but it’s been alright. Promises had to be kept, after all.

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nsheetee · 5 years ago

Text

iced matcha | yangyang

pairing: college student!yangyang x barista!reader genre: coffee shop au | fluff summary: yangyang is a regular at the cafe, but the first time you meet him, you accidentally mess up his order. yangyang is too flustered to form words whenever he looks at you, so he doesn’t say anything about your mistake, but when you remember his incorrect drink every time he comes into the cafe, he can’t help but speak up.

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this is part of the moonlight cafe series — please read the preface before continuing reading

he walked through the door first, but several other guys followed in after him, the silver bell above the door jingle many times

you died a little inside when the group of seven guys lined up behind the already long line at the cash register

although nights were usually not busy at the cafe, 11pm on friday night always brought you a crowd of people

you named this the “death rush” in your head

trying to keep a smile on your face while simultaneously making several cups of coffee, yangyang notices you from his spot in line

he likes the braids you have in your hair, and the colorful hairbands that tie them in place

he’s amazed by how fast you move, from the cash register to the espresso machine and then back to the customer

“should we go somewhere else? it’s taking kind of long.” ten mumbles next to yangyang, and he’s quick to defend the barista

“hey! can’t you see she’s the only one working on a friday night? plus, we all know this cafe is worth the wait.”

yangyang is glad no one notices his quick defense over the girl working tonight, and shoves his hands in his pockets the further he and his groups of friends move up in line

eventually, they reach the front of the line and order their drinks, asking for them to be brought to their table

yangyang hides behind hendery when he orders, only speaking loud enough for the barista to hear him

hendery gives him a quizzical look as they walk to their table

“what was that?”

“what was what?” yangyang tries to play it off, but hendery’s inquiry draws the attention of the whole table to yangyang

“you were like a mouse when we ordered. I don’t even remember the last time you were that quiet in a public place.” yangyang kicks hendery under the table as everyone laughs

“maybe it has something to do with the cute barista?” kun speaks up, and all eyes turn to the counter where you’re making several iced americanos

yangyang feels sparks of jealousy start to bubble in his stomach as he watches his friends check you out

he doesn’t understand why he feels the urge to cover all of their eyes and turn the attention away from you

how do you have this affect on him already?

“hey, stop staring.” yangyang mutters, and the table erupts into giggles and mocking whistles at yangyang’s indirect admission to kun’s comment

the noise from the table quiets down as you approach with a tray full of drinks

“okay, so, 3 iced americanos...” you mumble as you place the americanos in front of kun, hendery, and ten, “an iced latte,” you smile at winwin as he accepts his drink, “and an iced matcha.” you say as you place yangyang’s incorrect order down in front of him

“if there’s anything else you guys need, just let me know!” you say with a warm smile and make your way back to your counter

everyone at the table stares at yangyang’s green iced matcha as if it’s a little alien that landed in this coffee shop

“didn’t you order an iced green tea?” winwin asks

“yeah...” yangyang trails off, “it’s an honest mistake. I’ll go ask if she can remake it.” he decides, grabbing the drink and standing up

the moment he turns around to walk to the counter, he stops dead in his tracks

yangyang’s heartbeat races at the sight of you cleaning the espresso machine and he suddenly thinks about what he’ll say to you

what if your smile turns into a frown...

... and it’ll be all his fault??

he doesn’t have the guts to go up to the counter and talk to you

at least, not yet

so yangyang sits back down, cradling the drink carefully on his lap

“you know what? I’ve never tried matcha, I might like it.” he tries to play off his indecisiveness, taking a hesitant sip from his drink

the whole table watches him while he can’t control his facial expressions, twisting into a disgusted look at his first taste of matcha

“it’s great,” yangyang coughs, “I love it.”

the next time yangyang and his friends walk into the cafe, you’re working again

but it’s not that busy as last time, and you’re able to take more interest into the group of friends

“oh! it’s you guys again! same drinks as last time?” yangyang and his friends are amazed at how you remembered them, much less their orders

as kun pays, they all find a seat and you bring their drinks to them

“alright, everyone: 3 iced americanos, an iced latte, and an iced matcha!”

suddenly, the whole table is reminded of your mistake from last time as you set down all the drinks and walk away from the table

yangyang reluctantly looks at his drink, already able to taste the texture of matcha on his tongue

“you should go fix it.” kun speaks up

“yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” yangyang replies

“why? I thought you loved matcha.” ten and hendery cackle at ten’s joke, no doubt thinking about the multiple disgusted facial expressions yangyang pulled off the last time he had this drink

“oh, it was an... experience.” yangyang trails off, “but I want my iced green tea tonight.”

he stands up, turns to the counter, and once again freezes

he didn’t notice that your hair looks different today

it’s out of the braids he saw you in last time, falling around your chin and shoulders, a velvet headband holding the strands out of your eyes as you clean the counter

he wonders what it would be like to make actual eye contact with you

would you laugh at his jokes?

what kind of coffee do you like to drink?

would you let him listen to your favorite playlist?

yangyang’s knees go weak at his thoughts, and he sits back down in his seat before he falls over

“you know what? I do love matcha.” he takes a sip through his straw, the chalky milk sliding down his throat uncomfortably

matcha is an acquired taste, and darn it, yangyang will acquire it

the next time yangyang walks into the cafe, he’s by himself

it’s a slow sunday night; there’s no one in the cafe other than you, and yangyang is hesitant to walk in

“a-are you guys open?” he pops his head through the door, the jingling of the bell alerting you that a customer is here

“of course! we never close.” yangyang gulps as he fully steps through the doors and into the lighting of the cafe, “oh! hey, you’re one of those guys that comes in with his friends, right?”

“my name’s yangyang.” he doesn’t even realize he’s introducing himself until the words leave his mouth

he hopes you say his name back to him

he just wants to know what it sounds like on your lips

“yangyang? that’s an interesting name. I'm y/n.” you show off your name that’s embroidered into your apron as yangyang walks closer to the cash register

just as yangyang suspected: his name on your lips makes his heart soar and his head dizzy

he can no longer deny his crush on the barista of his favorite cafe

“you get an iced matcha, right?” you move to start making the drink

“WAIT!”

yangyang practically yells, his voice echoing off of the walls of the store

you’re struck still in your place, a hand over your chest in slight fright

yangyang thinks it might be the absence of people (and his friends) in the cafe, or maybe the late, late hours of the night boosting him

but he has enough courage to make eye contact and step closer to you

“this is gonna be so awkward, but... I don’t like matcha. I hate matcha.”

you’re even more shocked, and now confused

“but you ordered matcha the first time you came in here...?” you mumble, yangyang finding your confusion to be the cutest thing he’s ever seen

“no, I didn’t. I think you might’ve misheard me... I wanted an iced green tea...” yangyang admits

you gasp quietly, the hand on your chest coming up to cover your mouth slightly

“oh no.” you mumble, your eyes turning down and you're lips frowning as you drop your hand, “oh my gosh, and you drank that matcha every time you came in here! I'm so, so sorry!”

“it’s okay, honestly.” yangyang really doesn’t like to see you frown like that, and he tries to make your sad expression disappear

“please, I feel so bad. what can I do to make it up to you?”

yangyang’s cheeks immediately flare up at your question, a thought suddenly popping into his head

now, he’s sure the only reason he has any courage to mumble out his thought was all thanks to the late sunday night fatigue

“go out on a date with me.”

it’s your turn to heat up at his words, and you bite your lip at his proposition

“you know, most people just ask for a free drink...” you trail off, loving the way yangyang starts to stumble out some incoherent sentences

“w-well, I wouldn't mind a f-free drink either, a-and you don’t-t have to-”

“I’m just joking,” you laugh, leaning your arms against your side of the counter, “I'd love to go on a date.”

“would it be weird to have that date right now...?” yangyang asks, and you raise your eyebrows at him

“in my work place? where I'll make both of our drinks? and we’ll sit at the table I just cleaned?”

“oh, yeah, no- you’re right that’s too-” yangyang begins to mumble again, making you amused at his wavering confidence

“I'm just joking. of course we can have our date now. what did you want to drink again?” yangyang smiles at you, realizing that he loves how natural it is for you to tease him

he leans his arms against his side of the counter, coming in closer to you

“don’t care. just, please, no matcha.”

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vvitchering · 4 years ago

Note

I love, LOVE, your writing! Would you be up for some hurt/comfort Gesekel? I'm a sucker for it, especially along the lines of Geralt thinking Eskel has died on the path but then he shows up with his grin and the whole "you should know better Wolf". 💜

I’m so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing ;w; I write for you guys so getting feedback like this literally fuels me. I am also a sucker for hurt/comfort so you are absolutely in luck~

It’s never a pretty sight when he makes his way through settlements ravaged by the war. As Nilfgaard pushes ever northward, the people suffer. Geralt is used to carnage wrought by mindless creatures, but seeing the violence done by men to men makes his stomach turn. The bright side, if it can be called a bright side, is that with war comes death, and with death come monsters. War can be profitable for witchers, if there is coin left to be paid.

He’s just north of White Orchard, in one such town left ransacked and bloody by a skirmish. The notice board had been covered in desperate pleas for assistance with the encroaching necrophages, drawn in by the stench of blood and bodies. Ghouls and Algouls looking to make meals of the dead would quickly move on to living prey once the bodies were devoured. A witcher was needed. Geralt holds one of the contract offers in his hand as he talks to the barkeep at the town’s tavern, one of the only buildings left intact.

“Ghouls were a big problem, yeah, but you’re a bit late. Another witcher beat you to them, though that might be to your benefit.”

Geralt frowns. He doesn’t often encounter other witchers. They tend to stick to their own territories.

“And how is that to my benefit exactly.” Geralt asks, already mentally counting his losses. If this town was already clean, he had a week at least to go before he again encountered a settlement big enough to find work in.

The barkeep gives him a slightly sympathetic look.

“He drove out the flesh eaters, but they still got ‘im in the end. Poisonous bite, you know? Got ‘im right in the neck and it wasn’t long before he stopped moving. Real shame. Wasn’t a bad guy for a witcher, had a bit of good humor about 'im, even with that scarred face of his.”

Geralt’s heart speeds up despite himself. There are plenty of witchers with facial scars. It’s not him.

He asks the barkeep to describe the good humored witcher.

Brown hair, strong jaw, wide nose, and terrible scars that disfigured the side of his face and twisted his mouth.

Geralt’s blood chills in his veins. It’s not possible. No way he’d let something as mundane as a ghoul take him out.

“Friend of yours?” the barkeep asks.

Geralt is reeling, still trying to process the information, still finding loopholes, when the man reaches underneath the bar and produces a long thin object, wrapped in a white sheet.

“Was gonna try to sell it, but if he was your kin it’s rightfully yours.”

Any doubt Geralt was trying to hold onto vanishes as he pushes aside the sheet. It’s a witcher’s silver sword, adorned with runes as familiar as the ones on his own sword, and altered at the grip to be easier for larger hands to wrap around comfortably. It’s Eskel’s, unquestionably. And no witcher would let his silver out of his sight unless...

“Where.” Geralt bites out. “Where is he.”

“The body? Dragged ‘im to the old oak by the hill. Couldn’t spare the labor to bury ‘im, you understand, but it seemed the least we could do for his help.”

Geralt snatches Eskel’s sword from the bar and leaves as quickly as his feet can carry him. He leaves Roach tethered outside and takes off at a run toward the hill he can see by the edge of the town. It’s a mistake. It has to be. It can’t be, the evidence is in his hands, but it must be.

There’s a figure resting at the base of a huge oak that looms into view the closer he gets to the hill. It’s not him. It can’t be him.

Geralt skids to a stop. Falls to his knees in the dirt, the sword slipping from his hands to rest in front of him.

Eskel is splattered with dried but foul smelling blood and his armor is ripped and tattered. The townspeople must have arranged him in the dignified position he laid in; back straight, eyes closed, his steel sword resting on his chest. They’ve laid him to rest like they would a respected warrior, albeit one who they couldn’t spare the resources to bury or burn.

There’s a high pitched agonized whine coming from somewhere. It takes Geralt a moment to realize it’s coming from his own throat. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this day would come. No witcher ever died in his bed. But for it to be Eskel, already... They were both still young, by witcher standards, barely men, not even at their first hundred years. And Eskel was gone.

Distantly, Geralt registers that he’s crying. He feels lightheaded, like his soul is trying to escape and go somewhere else, like it can’t stand to exist in a reality where Eskel does not. Geralt shuffles forward on his knees until Eskel is close enough to touch. He bends over the fallen witcher and presses his face to his neck, searching for his scent, one last memory to hold onto.

Eskel’s lightning storm essence is there still, underneath the putrid stink of necrophage blood. Geralt breaths it in, greedy, desperate, tears dripping from his face to Eskel’s neck and leaving tracks in the filth there.

And then he hears it. A weak fluttering thud. A heartbeat. Geralt freezes, doesn’t even dare to breath, lest he destroy himself all over again with false hope.

A moment passes. Then another.

The dull thud sounds again.

He’s alive.

The relief is sudden and all consuming. Geralt collapses, curls around Eskel as best he can with all of their armor between them, and lets his sobs shake him apart. Eskel’s heart is slow, slower than even a witcher’s should be, and his chest doesn’t move at all for how shallow his breaths are, but he’s alive.

He’s alive.

Geralt tries to match his breaths to Eskel’s and finds himself slipping into meditation. Eskel is clearly on a deeper level than Geralt has ever experienced, if being handled and transported by humans and having his sword taken from him didn’t draw him out of the trance. Geralt drifts, exhausted by both his grief and his joy, and only stirs when he feels the pillow he’s made of Eskel’s chest shift under him.

Eskel groans and it’s the most beautiful sound Geralt has ever heard in his life. He sits up in a hurry and snakes a hand under Eskel’s neck to help the larger witcher sit up. His eyes are open and his pupils shrink and grow rapidly as he blinks and reorients himself. His gaze lands on Geralt and he smiles.

“Could’ve used you here a few days ago.”

His voice is rough and dry, but the deep tones are instantly comforting.

“You so far off your game you let a few ghouls turn you into a chew toy?” Geralt teases.

Eskel rolls his eyes and and moves to rotate his shoulder until it pops satisfyingly. He stretches his neck, producing a similar crack, and Geralt catches a glimpse of the half healed bite wound on Eskel’s neck. The barkeep’s story had been true, then. He brings a hand up to smooth down Eskel’s collar and lightly brush over the angry red skin. Eskel hisses and slaps his hand away.

“Gonna scar.” Eskel says gloomily. “I’ll never live it down.”

“You will. You’ll live.”

Geralt means it to sound light and humorous, but the look Eskel gives him says his joke didn’t quite land the way he’d hoped.

“I’m fine. It was just a ghoul. Got me in a hell of a shitty spot, but it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.”

“I know, its just...They told me you died. You looked dead. I couldn’t hear your heart.”

Eskel reaches up and slides his fingers through Geralt’s hair to cup the back of his head. He pulls lightly, bringing Geralt close enough to knock foreheads with him. It’s an action that they’d done since they were children at Kaer Morhen, their own special way of being close. Geralt can hear Eskel’s heart now, beating away strong and loud in his chest.

“I’m sorry I scared you. I really am fine.” Eskel says quietly, rubbing absently at Geralt’s scalp with the hand buried in the white strands.

Geralt leans into the pressure for a moment and then pulls away, clearing his throat after the emotional display.

“Don’t fucking do it again.” Geralt says, feigning annoyance.

Eskel laughs and Geralt once again has a new favorite sound.

“Yeah, sure, Wolf. I’ll do my best.”

*~*

:’) well that certainly got away from me. I hope this makes up for how long it took me to answer!!

#prompt fill #eskel/geralt #geskel #eskralt #the witcher #mine #my fic #ANYWAY HERE'S THIS

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chemicalmagecraft · 4 years ago

Text

A Black Wind Howls Chapter 5: Winter Solstice Part Two

Previously on Avatar...

The fireballs tore through the smoke cloud, but the Black Wind was nowhere to be found.

"He's invisible!" Zhao shouted.

"What was that about you killing us?" he asked the black-clad man before kicking him into unconsciousness, then grinned.

The door suddenly creaked shut. When everyone looked at it they saw a rather short old woman with long white hair appear with her hand on the white lotus design in the middle of the door, as if out of thin air.

"Bending is connection to an element," Dorji said, her hands on Appa's reins. She held her hand out to a passing cloud, causing a miniature funnel cloud to form from it.

"By restricting one of the senses you use the most, you will unconsciously draw on other senses. And once you begin to feel the elements more, your control over them will only increase."

Dorji took a deep breath. "The reason I can't hear in the spirit world... is because I was born deaf."

oOoOo

"So that's why you have trouble hearing," Katara said. Dorji had decided to tell them what she'd told Aang while they were flying to the Fire Nation.

Dorji nodded. She looked nervous, her hands were shaking. "Y-you don't... think less of me, d-do you?"

Katara hugged her until she stopped trembling. "I don't," she reassured her after letting her go, "and I'm sure Aang and Sokka feel the same way!"

Aang and Sokka nodded.

"I don't think anyone would think less of you for being deaf," Sokka contributed.

Dorji's face fell. "Thank you, but..."

Sokka's face scrunched up in regret. "It'd be great if I could go a day without sticking my foot in my mouth."

"No, no," Dorji shook her head. "It... wasn't anything that you could've known about."

He sighed. "Yeah, thanks, but I still should've guessed."

"I... would understand if you were wary of having me accompany you, still," Dorji muttered nervously. "M-my ability to sense noise, w-while more expansive than a normal person's, requires me to actively decipher sounds. I don't think that's normal, anyway. I'd like to say I'm normally good at using my air sense to hear, but it's not perfect. Strong winds and rainstorms can sometimes interfere with my ability to make out sounds, and if I'm distracted..." Dorji absentmindedly touched at her hair, her hand shaking slightly. She bit her lip. "It... that was how..." She took a deep breath, then muttered, "I was too focused on what I was practicing. Didn't notice him until he had grabbed me by the hair..."

"Oh, that must've awful," Katara said. "But don't worry, we'll be here to watch your back from now on."

Dorji smiled at her. "Thank you."

"Uhh, speaking of watching your back..." Sokka said fearfully, pointing to something behind Dorji. Everyone turned to see a Fire Nation ship sailing in their direction at full steam.

"They're gaining on us!" Katara shouted.

Dorji squinted at the boat. "It looks like an outdated cruiser. I haven't seen one of its make before, but it's much too small to be a current Fire Navy ship. I've heard that they focused more on speed than power at the start of the war, though. Is... is that Prince Zuko?"

Katara tapped Dorji's shoulder. "He probably is," she said when Dorji glanced over to her. "He's... kinda been chasing Aang."

Dorji made a small noise, then looked back at the boat. "Didn't think he'd find the Avatar that soon..."

"How can you see someone that far away?" Sokka asked. "And how do you know about Zuko?"

Katara went to tap Dorji's shoulder. "I 'heard,' don't worry," Dorji said. "While my hearing is... not, my eyesight is, thankfully, very good. Though to be honest I can only recognize Zuko from this distance because of his very identifying facial features. I've only had him described to me and it's too far away to really make out fine details. As for why I know him, my father is... a member of the Earth Kingdom army. I know at least the general descriptions of most Fire Nation persons of interest, banished princes included. Speaking of which, I think that's Uncle Iroh yelling at Zuko."

"Uncle Iroh?" Katara asked.

Dorji stiffened slightly. "Z-Zuko's uncle, Iroh. He was originally the heir apparent to the previous Fire Lord, but his younger brother, Ozai, somehow managed to usurp his claim." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "They're loading something into a trebuchet. I think Iroh is fanning his face, so it might have some form of flammable, but pungent oil on it. Get ready to take evasive maneuvers, I'll try to block it." She pulled out her staff halves.

"Hold onto something!" Aang shouted, gripping Appa's reins.

Dorji slashed the air with her staff halves as the now-flaming ball of... something hurtled towards them. It was smashed way off course by a blast of air.

"I'll try to disable their catapult without harming anyone now," Dorji said. "It'll take them some time to reload, so hold Appa steady."

"We've got a problem with that!" Aang shouted, pointing ahead of Appa.

Pointing at the Fire Nation blockade to be specific.

"That's bad," Sokka said.

"This is why I wanted to come alone!" Aang shouted. "It's way too dangerous!"

Dorji, too focused on Zuko's ship to hear, had planted her feet in a stance very unlike traditional airbending. She swirled the two halves of her staff around the air fluidly, then combined them with a flourish and slashed sharply at Zuko's boat. She could barely see the catapult slashed into as if by a giant, invisible blade while the crew of the ship was only knocked over by the blast of air. Just after she did that, Appa darted off to the side to dodge a flaming ball. She only barely managed to stay on Appa's back

"What did I say about-" Dorji started to say, then trailed off when she saw the Fire Nation blockade. "Oh, that's the blockade. It's usually not this bad, they must have been worried you'd go to Crescent Island on the solstice."

"We can't go around, there's not enough time!" Katara said.

"Hang on, everyone!" Aang shouted, gripping Appa's reins and steering him away from another volley of fireballs, up into the clouds.

"I have an idea, but I'm not sure if it'll work," Dorji said, starting to dig through the bag of scrolls. "For now I'll try to ward off the fireballs. Someone alert me if it looks like I'm distracted, though." She pulled out a particular scroll, then quickly unfurled it. When the next volley of fireballs flew, though, Dorji managed to do something to blow them away from Appa just with a single wave of her hand.

"What's that scroll about, Dorji?" Sokka asked.

"A... unique airbending technique my grandmother made a long time ago," Dorji answered after a moment, eyes still on the scroll. Every so often she waved her hand or flicked her wrist, and the fireballs flying around them missed Appa. The wind seemed to get more lively as she kept it up, causing the clouds to shift around. "I haven't managed to learn how to do it yet, but if I do learn it might help out. You might like this one, Aang, it's pretty pacifistic. Potentially."

"Really?" Aang asked, still trying to keep Appa away from the fireballs even though they were mostly being deflected away by Dorji's winds. "How does it work."

"It's..." Dorji squinted at her scroll, then shrugged. "It has... something to do with air and light. Have you ever noticed that, when you stick something in water, it looks a little distorted?" She waved a hand at a fireball, knocking it back down at the blockade.

"As a member of the Southern Water Tribe," Sokka butted in, "I've noticed."

"Thank you, Sokka," Dorji muttered flatly. "A long time ago, my grandmother noticed that as well. After some research she came to learn that while light mostly travels in a straight line, it can be distorted when it passes through clear things. This includes water and glass, but it can also include..."

"Air," Katara finished. "So is that where those mirages come from?"

"There can be mirages in the South Pole?" Aang asked. "I thought they only happened in the desert or something!"

"Apparently," Dorji said, effortlessly directing yet another fireball away from Appa. "So my grandmother managed to figure out how to use that with airbending to cause light to pass around objects, usually herself. The technique, once mastered, allows the user to become more-or-less invisible, as well as potentially create mirages to trick someone into thinking something is where it isn't." She looked back down at the scroll, then started concentrating. "It's harder to do over a larger area, but hopefully..." She started swirling the arm she wasn't using to hold the scroll around, making the air around Appa start shimmering.

"And you think I'd like it because using it means I could sneak around people without fighting?" Aang asked.

"...Possibly," Dorji muttered, still reading from her scroll. "Fair warning, this is where I might start getting more dis... distracted."

True to what she said, the next few fireballs came dangerously close to hitting Appa. He managed to dodge the first, but then the next two collided in midair and exploded near Appa. Unfortunately, Sokka slipped off the side of the saddle when the bison jerked away from the explosion, screaming as he fell.

"Sokka!" Katara yelled.

"I'm going down!" Aang shouted, spurring Appa into a dive. "Dorji, try to slow his fall!"

"Right, sorry," Dorji muttered. The shimmering around Appa got lighter as she waved her hand at Sokka. Some of the nearby clouds started to swirl around him as his fall slowed down. Appa managed to fly below Sokka long before he hit the ocean, allowing Katara to catch him.

"You okay?" Katara asked.

"That... was not fun," Sokka whined.

"He's fine..." Katara rolled her eyes.

"Good, because it looks like they're about to fire again!" Aang shouted, pointing at the blockade. "Dorji, if you can do that invisibility thing you'd better do it now!"

"H-hang on," Dorji said, putting the scroll away and waving her arms a little frantically. The air around Appa started to shimmer even more, though it didn't quite look like the technique was working.

"Fire!" the commander of the blockade shouted. The ship he was on shot another fireball at Appa. It looked like the aim was a little off, but it would still hit Appa if he continued flying straight.

"Whoa!" Aang shouted, steering Appa to dodge the attack. He also threw a blast of air out, knocking it even further to the side. With that last fireball dodged, Appa was able to fly past the blockade. It seemed that the ships were only readied to fire on one the one side of the blockade, as the ships failed to fire on the group as Appa got further from them.

"Everyone okay?" Aang asked. "That last one was a little close, Appa wouldn't have been able to dodge it if it was any closer." He turned around to look at the rest of the group. "We should be there soon, so get... Where is Dorji?"

Katara and Sokka looked to where they last saw Dorji, but didn't see her. "She was right there," Katara said. "Where did she-" Katara was cut off when an unseen, shaking hand tapped her on the arm. "What was that?"

"I-I... I s-saw..." Dorji's voice, distorted for some reason, came from the spot next to Katara.

"Did she... become invisible?" Sokka asked. He carefully poked at the air where Dorji's voice came from until he hit something solid. He caught a flash of black cloth from under his finger for a moment when he lifted it, though the effect quickly reasserted itself.

"D-did I?" Dorji asked. "It... shouldn't work like this."

"What's wrong with it?" Aang asked.

"Nothing," Dorji muttered. "But that's the problem. This is a technique that requires concentration, and I'm not even concentrating on it. I can feel that it's working, but... It shouldn't be."

"Is there anything that you can think of that... might have caused this?" Katara asked. "Sorry, I have no idea what's going on."

"I... s-saw the man that snuck up on me," Dorji muttered. "Wh-when my father was captured. He was o-on the blockade. I-I panicked for a moment when I s-saw him."

"Hey," Katara said, grabbing where she thought Dorji's hand might be. It felt like she grabbed her wrist instead. Good enough. She felt her way down to Dorji's still-shaking hand, then squeezed it. "Take a deep breath, please."

They heard the sounds of an invisible girl taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. "Thank you," Dorji muttered. "I feel better now."

"Do you think you can turn it off?" Sokka asked.

"At the very least, I can disrupt the technique by flowing air around my body in a way counter to how it's currently flowing..." Dorji muttered. "But I don't think I'll try that yet. Whatever happened here, whether it's related to the solstice, my panicking, or a mixture of both, I think it's safe to assume it's not going to happen again, or at the very least something that I can't reliably trigger. I can feel how the technique is working even though I'm not concentrating on using it, so my hope is that if I let it stay I might figure out how to actually use the technique. Plus we're going into enemy territory, so I think I'll take my chances hoping it lasts until we get out of here."

"That makes sense," Katara said. "By the way, how's your ankle?"

"It's better," she answered. "I should be able to walk and even fight, but I might have trouble running too fast. Don't be afraid to leave me behind if it comes to it, I can fend for myself even if I'm not invisible. And by myself it should be a simple matter to sneak by any guards that might be posted."

"We'll try not to leave you behind, though," Aang said. He pointed at the island that they were approaching, or rather the tower-like temple standing on it. "We're here, I'm gonna land Appa."

oOoOo

The grand door to the entrance of the temple opened, seemingly on its own. After a moment a quiet, distorted voice sounded from the door. "There isn't anyone in the main room, but I sense some people nearby. Fire sages, from their breathing and spiritual affinity."

"Good job, Dorji," Katara whispered.

"I'll scout ahead," Dorji said, now in the temple. "Try not to get spotted."

"We need to hurry, though," Aang said, walking into the room. "I need to get to the room at the top of the tower before sunset."

"Then we should avoid confrontation so we don't get caught- hide!"

Five old men in fire-themed red robes and hats walked into the room from one of the hallways around it. "We are the fire sages," the leader, the oldest-looking sage in the fanciest-looking robes, said. "We are the guardians of this temple."

"I don't suppose you're here to take me to the top of the temple?" Aang asked, smiling sheepishly.

The head sage shot a blast of fire at Aang. "No." The other sages also threw fire at him.

Aang quickly twirled his staff in front of himself, using airbending to form a shield of air in front of it that blocked the fire.

"Run," Aang shouted, "I'll distract them!"

Before he could do anything he was swept away by a strong gust of wind, getting knocked into Sokka and Katara and then pushed to one of the hallways that the sages didn't come from with the two. "You're the one that needs to reach the top," Dorji said. About half of her staff had turned visible when she made the gust, but it quickly faded again. "Run. Now."

Aang grimaced, then sighed. "Be careful. Meet back up with us as soon as you're done." He ran, dragging Sokka and Katara off with him.

The head sage sneered at the air next to where the staff disappeared. "I don't know how you're doing that, but you made a mistake by revealing your position. Split up, I'll deal with the ghost." The sages, at their leader's command, split off while the leader threw a blast of fire where he thought Dorji was.

A low but powerful gust of wind swept the sages that ran after Aang and the others off their feet while the fire that the leader shot hit only air. "What!?" the leader exclaimed, seeing the end of Dorji's staff fade away at the other end of the room, between the now-prone sages and the hallway. The head sage growled and threw more fireballs where the staff was, trying to keep Dorji on the defensive by constantly attacking her. The first few didn't seem to hit her so he started throwing his fire in random directions, trying to catch her. It didn't seem to work, but at the very least it seemed that it distracted her a bit judging from how one of the sages was able to quickly get up and dart to the hallway the Avatar went down.

"Good job, Shyu!" one of the other sages, who was still trying to get up, said. Another gust of wind tore through the room, knocking the remaining sages back down. They just barely saw the tip of a black staff flying down the hall the sage went down.

"Alright, who said that?" the head sage grumbled.

oOoOo

Shyu, the sage who had gotten past Dorji, somehow managed to catch up to Aang, Katara, and Sokka in a dead end. "Avatar, I wish to help you!" he told them.

"Why should we trust you?" Sokka shouted as they got ready to fight.

Shyu bowed in front of Aang, placing his hands on the floor. "I know what you must be here for, and want to help you. It's going to be hard for you to reach the Avatar's chamber before the rest of the sages without help." He started to get up but slammed back into the ground, the imprint of an invisible foot appearing on his robes and a surprised expression sprouting on his face. "Wha-"

"I assume from the fact that he was on the ground in a position that greatly limited his choices for attack that this sage is the only one who remembers his ancestral duties," a calm voice sounded from the air above him.

"Of course, Lady Raava," Shyu said. "Now please, we must hurry before we are caught."

"I'm not... right, what do you need to do?" The invisible foot lifted from his back and he was hauled up by the unseen Dorji.

Shyu quickly walked over to a lamp, slid it back to reveal a small hole in the wall, then placed his palm over the hole. Fire flashed from under his palm, then a secret passage opened up in the wall. "Inside, quickly," he commanded.

"Thank you," Aang said, then followed his orders. Sokka and Katara quickly followed after him.

Shyu entered the secret tunnel last, closing the door behind him. "They hopefully shouldn't consider the fact that I brought you in here," Shyu whispered, "but we should stay moving, and stay quiet. I'm not the only one who knows of these tunnels."

"What did you call me earlier?" Dorji asked as they walked.

"Lady Raava, the name of the Avatar Spirit from before she merged with the first Avatar," Shyu answered. "Are... are you not she? I had wondered, when you first attacked us, if the talk of the Avatar Spirit walking with each Avatar was more literal than we thought..."

"No, I'm not Raava," Dorji answered.

"I see," Shyu said, though he still looked puzzled. "How is it that I can't see you, then?"

"A long story that, no offense, I am not willing to share with a fire sage at this time."

Shyu nodded. "I understand."

"Hang on, did you just say that the Avatar Spirit is a girl?" Sokka asked.

"I've never heard the name Raava before..." Aang said.

"I was lucky to learn that name at all," Shyu said, rubbing his chin. "It was mentioned in a scroll about the Avatar that I found a while back. I attributed the lack of knowledge on her to Fire Lord Sozin's regime, but if you only know her as the Avatar Spirit... I suppose it makes sense. The text said that she merged with the first Avatar thousands of years ago, so I suppose it might not be common knowledge..."

"I guess I should add that to the list of things I want to ask Roku about..." Aang said.

"These secret passages are actually Avatar Roku's work, you know," Shyu said. "Once upon a time he called this temple home. Though that was before my time, of course."

Aang stared at the walls of the tunnel. He quietly ran his hand along the cave-like wall. "It feels... strange, being told about all these things about my past lives, about myself, that I don't remember..."

"I can imagine," Dorji said. "I don't have any past lives, or at least I don't have any past lives that I can remember, but... Let's just say that some of my ancestors have done noteworthy things. Hearing about them, knowing that I'm related to them... It's a lot, and I imagine that being the Avatar is like that, but with more pressure. But..." An invisible hand squeezed Aang's shoulder lightly. "You have us. I... I do hope that that helps."

Aang smiled at where he thought Dorji's face was. "I think it does. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Though my eyes are up here."

Aang jumped. "Ah! Sorry!"

Dorji snorted. "That was a joke, you're good."

He sighed. "Thanks..."

"Hey, I thought that Air Nomads didn't know about their families," Sokka said.

"They don't. I was talking about my grandfather's lineage, however, and my grandfather is no Air Nomad."

"Your grandfather?" Katara asked.

"My father's father," Dorji answered. "He was an Earth Kingdom general before he retired. He still helps out, though certain situations even aside from his age prevent him from taking to battle anymore... He is still a powerful earthbender, though."

"Was... was he disappointed you're not an earthbender?" Sokka asked.

"Of course not!" Dorji said sharply. It was louder than her normal speaking voice, but thankfully only echoed a bit off the walls. "He would never be disappointed by something like that! He was delighted to learn that my father and I are airbenders, even if there was only so much he could teach us!"

Sokka backed up a bit, putting his hands out defensively. "I'll take your word for it," he said quickly.

"We're almost to the room," Shyu said. "Please quiet down, in case there's anyone up there already." He thought, then said, "I'm sorry, I never caught your name..."

"I'll scout ahead," Dorji said, anticipating what he wanted to ask.

Shyu nodded. "Yes, thank you. I can do it if you don't want to, but..."

"As I am currently invisible I'm the most logical choice," Dorji rationalized. "Plus if you're staying here with the others then you won't have an opportunity to set up an ambush, in the event that you're plotting against us."

"I would never do that," Shyu objected.

"No offense, but after a century of war and the genocide of my grandmother's people I reserve the right to not trust a Fire Nation official I have just met."

He sighed. "I suppose that's only fair... For the record, though, that thought hadn't occurred to me."

Dorji didn't answer.

"Did she leave already?" Shyu frowned.

Katara shrugged. "Maybe. She's pretty quiet..."

"Sorry about her," Aang said.

Shyu shook his head sadly. "It's... not like she's wrong, is she? You were wary of me, as well..."

"I mean, yeah," Sokka said. "The Fire Nation is pretty much the worst. Our mother died in a Fire Nation raid. You weren't the one who killed her, obviously, but stuff like that makes it hard to trust people from the Fire Nation..."

The sage chuckled sadly, his shoulders slumped. "You know, this is the first time I've ever spoken from anyone from outside the Fire Nation... I didn't know what to expect, but I suppose I can't complain with what you've said... I don't know what I can do to even begin to make up for the sins of my nation, aside from what I'm doing now, but after today I will do my best!"

"An admirable goal," Dorji's voice suddenly sounded from nowhere. "If you're serious about it, you'll find an opportunity soon. Now, the room and the route to it is clear, so let's hurry."

oOoOo

Shyu fell to his knees. "The doors are closed," he whispered. Sure enough, the massive, ornate doors in the middle of the room were shut, the five dragons on its face seeming to glare at the intruders and "traitor."

"Can't you just open them with firebending?" Sokka asked. "It looks a bit like a door in the Southern Air Temple that Aang opened with airbending."

"Maybe it has a similar mechanism," Shyu said, "but this door is made so that only a fully-realized Avatar can open it by themself. It needs five simultaneous fire blasts that otherwise need to be provided by five fire sages."

"I think I have an idea," Sokka muttered, rubbing his chin and looking at a lamp.

"I also have an idea," Dorji said. "Care to share notes?"

Sokka nodded. "Something my father showed me, once. We take some oil from those lamps and put them in animal skin pouches. Soak some twine in the oil and Shyu can light them all up at once!"

"Makeshift bombs," Dorji noted. "It sounds like it might work, at least in theory. My idea is to try to use my airbending to amplify and guide Shyu's firebending. It's actually a concept my father once told me about, as well. How about you set your idea up while we try our thing?"

"Sounds good," Sokka said. "Katara, can you give me some help? And... you probably want Aang, right?"

"He might help, hopefully. At the very least it might be good to introduce the concept to him. Approach the door, Shyu and Aang."

At Dorji's order, the sage and the Avatar approached the door. "Where do you want us to stand?" Shyu asked.

"You take a few steps back and face the door." A bit of dust kicked up behind where Shyu was standing, presumably where Dorji wanted him to stand. "Aang, you stand back. Try to feel what I'm doing to the air, but don't do anything unless you're absolutely sure you can help." A current of wind started to blow despite the lack of open windows in the room. "I am creating pathways of air that will contain and stoke your fire. In theory, this will make the fire powerful enough to trigger the mechanisms even with just your fire. Still, I'm going to need you to use as much fire as possible or it might not work."

A circle of air shimmered in front of Shyu for a moment. "Is that where I'm supposed to hit?" he asked.

"Yes. I'll tell you when it's ready, of course, but you have to shoot inside that circle, as close to center as possible."

Shyu nodded, starting to concentrate. He breathed deeply; in, then out. In, then out. He clenched both of his fists, raising them slightly and entering a firebending stance. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.

"I take it you're ready?" Dorji asked.

He nodded.

"I'm almost ready, too. Once it's established it shouldn't be time-sensitive, so don't try to rush it once I say so, but..."

He nodded.

Dorji concentrated in silence for a few more moments. Finally... "There, it's ready when you are."

Shyu nodded again, took another deep breath, then punched as hard as he could with both fists. A large blast of fire sprouted from his fists, but most of its heat was funneled forward by Dorji's airbending. The flames spiraled forward and split into five branches that hit the five dragons on the door directly on the mouths. The dragons, thankfully, reacted to the fire, moving up to a position that allowed the doors to open. Shyu beamed at the door as it slowly opened, revealing a statue of Avatar Roku. However it started to slowly close as soon as it was fully opened. "Now, Avatar! Before it closes again!"

Aang nodded and quickly dashed through the doors. He sat down in front of the statue as the doors closed behind him.

"Aw, I wanted to try out my idea!" Sokka said, carrying over three of his makeshift bombs. Katara was walking behind him with the other two.

"Sorry, maybe next time," Dorji said. "Though now you have a few makeshift bombs."

"How is Aang supposed to get back out, actually?" Katara asked, a little concerned.

"There's a similar mechanism on the other side of the door," Shyu said. "Hopefully Avatar Roku can help with it. What do we do now, though?"

"You wander the halls, pretending to be looking for us," Dorji said. "Give them no hint that you have helped us." An invisible hand grabbed Shyu's and pulled it into a handshake. "We'll hide near here until Aang emerges. Good luck."

Shyu looked at his hand with surprise, then smiled at where he thought the girl might be. "Thank you, I wish you luck as well."

oOoOo

Aang waited in the sanctuary until a beam of sunlight hit the statue. He watched light engulf the statue, smoke pouring out of it. He stood up as the smoke engulfed him, seemingly transporting him to a mountaintop. The statue of Roku was gone, replaced by the spirit of the past Avatar.

"Avatar Roku," Aang said with a reverent bow.

His predecessor gave him a smile. "Avatar Aang. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too. Is the reason you brought me here related to that vision you showed me when you called me?"

Roku nodded. "The comet. One hundred years ago Fire Lord Sozin used the power of that comet to wipe out the Air Nomads."

Aang frowned. "I heard about that, actually. Sozin's Comet, it supposedly comes around once every century and gives firebending a boost." His frown deepened. "Hhhey, I don't suppose you know when, exactly, the comet showed up?"

Roku nodded. "Your fears are, unfortunately, correct. The comet will return by Summer's end, and it is unlikely that the current Fire Lord will do nothing with the power it will grant him." Roku bowed contritely. "I apologize for the mess that I have left you, Aang, but now it is up to you. You must end the war before the return of the comet, or I fear the Fire Lord will end it for you."

"I... I don't know how I can do that," Aang said. "I haven't even mastered all four elements, and that normally takes years!"

"That is true, yet you must master the elements by the comet. It is a tall task, but not impossible. If you trust in your friends and make allies, you will be able to avert this disaster."

Aang nodded, though he still looked nervous. "If you believe I can do it..."

Roku moved forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know you can, Aang. You have done it in each of your past lives, even through hardships, and your past lives will forever be with you."

Aang gave him a nervous smile. "Thanks... Hey, speaking of past lives, have you ever heard the name Raava?"

Roku nodded. "Of course. She is the Avatar spirit, after all. However, I only learned her name after my death, when I met her in person. Well, as 'in person' as you can get between two spirits..."

"Why didn't you learn her name until then?" Aang asked.

"It is always easiest for an Avatar to communicate with more recent past Avatars, hence why the most recent Avatar is usually the current Avatar's spirit advisor. Raava first bonded with us thousands of years ago, with hundreds of Avatars between then and now. It's not impossible for you to contact Raava, of course, but it will require effort on your part. You might not be able to until much later in your life. For now, I suggest you worry about the war for now."

"Of course," Aang nodded. "How will I meet you again? I don't think I can come here every time I want advice..."

He nodded. "When you need me, you will find a way. I only used the power of the solstice to contact you because I wanted to make you aware of the comet as soon as possible. Otherwise, you should eventually learn to contact me through meditation. Now, the solstice will soon end..." He waved a hand, showing a vision of outside the sanctuary. The five fire sages stood at the ready in front of the doors, Shyu looking slightly uneasy. Armored Fire Nation soldiers bolstered their numbers, led by a helmetless man that looked quite pleased with himself. Aang could just barely see Sokka and Katara hiding behind a pillar, though he also noticed Zuko hiding behind another. "It seems that your enemies are anticipating your exit." He smiled. "Why don't you let this old man help you deal with them, to make up for dragging you all the way out here?"

Aang returned his smile, then his eyes and tattoos glowed. "Thank you," he said.

oOoOo

"Bathe him in fire as soon as that door opens!" Zhao ordered. As soon as the dragons on the doors started to move, the firebenders all took aim. They threw a wave of fire at the doors as soon as they started to open, before they could even see what was inside. The fire obscured the contents of the room... and then a tall, white-haired man in red robes emerged from the fire completely unscathed. His eyes glowed pure white as he glared at his countrymen. With a single wave of his hands he gathered all the fire that the firebenders had thrown at him and made it explode outward in a wave that knocked all the firebenders down or at least back, but barely pushed Katara and Sokka.

Zhao growled at the phantom Avatar as he braced himself against the wave of superheated air, then blinked when he saw a familiar shimmer in the air. His scowl turned into a predatory grin as he lunged at the shimmering air. The grin widened when he managed to grab something solid, perhaps a wrist, even though she tried to dodge. Dorji squirmed, but he quickly wrapped his other arm around her waist and switched the arm at her wrist to holding a fire dagger to her neck. The heat of the flame disrupted the smallest amount of Dorji's invisibility, revealing a small patch of the skin of her neck just a hair's breadth from his "blade."

The commander chuckled into Dorji's ear, or at least where he thought it was. "You can't cut your hair to escape this time, kid," he whispered. Zhao turned his attention back to Roku and sneered. "I have a hostage, Avatar! Give up the kid's body or I'l-"

His demand was cut off by a squelch and a spray of blood. He released Dorji and screamed, clutching the now-bleeding arm that he had used to grab Dorji. Roku used the distraction to blast him to the floor with another wave of fire.

"Go, now!" the Avatar ordered, looking at Katara and Sokka.

The siblings hesitated, but an invisible force dragged them towards the exit by their hands.

"We can't leave Aang!" Katara yelled, digging her feet in and forcing Dorji to stop with Sokka's help.

She noticed, though, that Dorji's hand was shaking. "A-a-avatar... R-roku... w-will..." There was a sound that, even muffled and distorted by the altered airflow around her, Katara and Sokka recognized as shallow, panicked breathing.

Sokka and Katara exchanged a look. "I'll make sure Aang gets out safely, you take care of Dorji," Sokka said.

Katara nodded and squeezed Dorji's hand. She noticed that the air around Dorji was starting to shimmer, enough that she could make out the rough outline of her body. "Let's go, Dorji," she said softly, then pulled Dorji along. She frowned at Avatar Roku, who was still throwing around the helpless Fire Nation fighters.

oOoOo

Appa flew as close to the now-melting temple as he could, guided by Katara at the reins. Sokka ran out of the temple. dragging an exhausted Aang over his shoulder. He quickly climbed onto Appa's saddle. "Yip yip!" he yelled, even though Appa was already flying. Katara got the message and had Appa fly up and away from the temple immediately.

"Where's Dorji?" Aang asked, looking around the saddle. He saw, in the back of the saddle, what appeared to be a ball of shimmering air. As he watched, Dorji seemed to shimmer back into existence as her invisibility "technique" finally failed. Dorji was curled into a ball, clutching the back of her head. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes closed.

Aang silently crawled over to Dorji and cautiously put his hand on her shoulder. Dorji jumped a bit, then looked up at Aang. She sniffed, then leaned forward and pressed her head onto Aang's shoulder. Aang hugged her as she sobbed, stroking her hair.

He waited until she looked back up at him to speak. "I'm sorry," he said. "Today was too much of a risk, and all I really learned from Roku was that Sozin's Comet is coming at the end of Summer. In hindsig-"

"N-no," Dorji muttered, shaking her head a little. She took a deep breath. "Even... even if you didn't learn much, the first meeting between an Avatar and their predecessor is still important. And as far as you knew he could've told you about a secret tunnel into the Fire Lord's palace. And it's not your fault that Zhao was there." She then slumped over and laid down. "Now if you excuse me, I need to sleep now..."

Aang nodded. "Thanks. Good night, Dorji."

She didn't answer, though Aang couldn't tell if it was because she had fallen asleep already or if she just stopped listening.

#fanfiction #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar the last airbender oc #A Black Wind Howls #ABWH CH5

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bramblie · 4 years ago

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Amai x Shoku fanfic

I translated a part of my fanfic for you poor non-Russian speaking shippers to read.

Rated T for a k*ss, 100% Fluff

BIG GIANT THANKS TO @sakis-sweets FOR EDITING

Recently, his soft voice had begun to sound deeper in her head. The way he leaned over to her to ask for advice, his habit of smoothing out that one lock of hair that never laid flat when he's deep in thought, his dimples, created by a natural smile - all of it seemed somewhat brighter, like they were important moments.

Every now and then Amai recalled the feeling of his coarse and thick hair between her fingers from that time she pretended there was a crumb stuck in it. Perhaps, this urge to touch Shoku was born from the devastation of losing Yamada-senpai.

Aishi-san gracefully pushed the right buttons, convincing Amai that "giving" Yamada-senpai to her was a fair price for her help. "Giving"... it hurt Amai's ears to think of him as an object like that. After that, Aishi-san had stopped greeting her, let alone talking to her or asking to spend time together. Amai didn't realise her good will had been taken advantage of until it was too late. Yamada-senpai looked happy with her, and he didn’t evoke any flutter in Amai's chest anymore. Tsuburaya-senpai, on the other hand…

Even pronouncing his last name in her mind was kind of embarrassing. After his name, his facial features came to mind, as well as his thin, long palms and quiet giggles...

"What’s on your mind, Odayaka-san?"

"Oh! Oh, nothing. More precisely, this problem.”

It was hard to focus on numbers when a handsome guy was baking amazing dishes a few meters away. Other members of the Cooking Club had already gone to share their food. Shoku achieved excellent results, but cooked slowly and had a habit of leaving varying degrees of mess. Amai had decided not to cook today and study for an upcoming algebra test instead. Club members periodically came to her for advice - inequalities were hard to grasp - and she couldn’t help but constantly raise her eyes to Shoku. In short, not the best conditions for studying. Shoku washed his hands, leaving bowls and measuring cups on the table. Amai would have immediately reminded him of it if he hadn’t sat next to her. Was she delirious or was he actually emanating with warmth? He looked in a problem book and slightly nodded to himself. What a beautiful profile...

"Hm, I think I remember this. Look..."

He took out a pencil and began to solve the problem, explaining the method along the way. Amai tried not to look in his eyes and focus on what was being written but she kept noticing his glances at her with her peripheral vision. Did that mean something? No, it seemed like Shoku was just estimating if she understood the solution or not. He put the pencil back.

"You’re so smart, senpai!"

"Haha, don’t mention it. Try it yourself now."

Amai read the next problem. It seemed completely different. She took a pencil in bewilderment, hoping for comprehension to strike as she began to write. It didn’t strike. She shot a glance at Shoku and he made eye contact with her. And then he let out a small laugh. The pencil reappeared in his fingers and he started explaining that the formula would be the same, but instead of integer values, there were fractions. After three indents «х ≥ а-b/3» was written. Shoku giggled once more when Amai stared at the notebook and shook her head.

"Maybe you should take a break? The cupcakes are almost done; I can make tea for them."

Amai needed to distract herself from all of these «x≥» and «a±b», so she volunteered to make tea herself. Amai recalled that Shoku liked black tea with ginger and two tablespoons of sugar. She put a spoonful of honey and a slice of lemon in her own mug. Shoku’s cupcakes seemed to be made with orange peels, so the combination would be excellent. Amai looked at Shoku and realized he was looking at her, resting his chin on his hand. Maybe not even looking, more like observing… She brought mugs, looking down at them as if she was afraid of being caught in eye contact again.

"Thank you, Odayaka-san."

"The pleasure is mine, senpai. Judging by the timer, the cupcakes would be ready in five minutes."

"Wonderful, just in time for the tea to cool down."

Shoku brought the mug under his nose to check the aroma and lightly nodded. He knew that Amai knew his favourite kind of tea, so what was the point of being surprised and thanking her each time? She felt his gaze on her face again. Damn it, why did it take only one glance for him to make her head spin and her chest burn, but it seemed she couldn’t make him blush even if she would grab his collar, draw him to herself and- Oh, what the hell!

"Odayaka-san, how’re you doing lately?"

"U-Um, everything is fine. Except for upcoming exams, of course."

"Is it fine in the bakery too?"

"Of course! Business goes smoothly."

"What about your private life?"

"U-Um, mhm, uh, w-what? W-What do you mean?"

Shoku ran his finger along the rim of the mug and took it away as it started to burn.

"Lately you seem... how should I say it… melancholic."

"Oh."

"You were in a similar state a couple of months ago when you fell in love with my classmate. You couldn’t focus and lowered your head just like that. So, I’ve come to the conclusion that you… Ahem, yeah."

Amai hadn’t been aware of that at all. Yamada-senpai had haunted her thoughts as well, but did he cause such inner trembling like Shoku? Are the excitements in her heart that noticeable?

"I don’t even know what to say… F-fine, yes, I guess, yes, I admit, I’m lost in all these thoughts. But don’t worry, I will return back to normal soon!"

Shoku took his mug, made a little sip and whispered something above the surface of a drink.

"I didn’t hear you."

Shoku whispered a little louder, and Amai barely made out his words from his breath.

"Who is it?"

It’s you. Come on, say it. It’s you. A split second will pass soon. It’s so hard to breathe. It’s you.

"I can’t tell."

I’m afraid to tell. It wasn’t Friday, and they were not under the cherry tree behind the school; she couldn’t confess. Amai at least knew she wouldn’t be rejected under the cherry tree. She could soothe herself as much as she wanted with thoughts of all his glances and gestures, but it was not enough for full confidence. Her bravery was limited to “accidental” touches and compliments to his dishes. Shoku sipped his tea again and looked at the window overlooking the corridor.

"Well, I wish you good luck."

Amai grabbed the chance to gaze at him. So many times now, she couldn’t lift her head because he had looked at her. He was so unbearably close all this time. Thick brown hair, folds on his shirt, emphasizing the thinness of his arms, long neck… Amai noticed a flour stain on his neck. He must’ve scratched it with floury hands, washed them, and forgotten about his neck… The urge appeared, and didn’t leave any seconds for hesitation.

Shoku jerked his head towards Amai. She held her gaze with all her might on her fingers that were stroking, that is to say wiping his neck. Still, she gave up in his trap. She needed to explain he had a stain there. She needed to, but… Those half-closed eyelids… Cheeks, covered with pink… Lips, opened in silent question… It seemed like Amai forgot her words. Shoku too, apparently, because instead of asking any questions he tilted his head.

It seemed like Amai had forgotten what she was doing. With her thumb, she slid under his jaw line and slowly ran it along his neck. Shoku closed his mouth with the back of his hand and looked out the window again to make sure no one could see them. Amai ran her palm up his neck and felt the texture of his hair. Yes, memories can’t be compared to an ongoing feeling. Her fingers were lightly playing with small strands while her palm kept stroking his neck.

Shoku suddenly straightened up. Amai was in such trance, she forgot about the eye contact, so he caught her with her guard down. She immediately seemed to sober up. What was happening right now? Why did she stroke his neck? Why did he hold her hand in place when she tried to pull it away? Why did Shoku’s face become closer?

Amai felt an exhale on her lips. She exhaled too, and the hot air between her and Shoku caused such a strong pressure in her chest she squeezed her shirt. And then there was a touch. Soft and hot, with a taste of ginger which made Amai squeak. Or was it something else? Shoku gently nipped her bottom lip a few times and breathed out without breaking contact. But, after slowly moving away, he stood up.

Amai opened her eyes. Shoku went to the kitchen and behind the partition she heard the sound of him opening the oven.

“The cupcakes are ready.”

Five minutes had passed.

#yandere simulator #amai odayaka #shoku tsuburaya #shoku x amai

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kinglivv · 5 years ago

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17 with w!master pretty please 🥺

Master-ed

Whittaker!Master X Reader

Summary: The Master turns up at a ball you and The Doctor are attending. Bombs and flirting insue.

Warnings: None

"Hello, darling,"

You're not quite sure where she came from - you hadn't expected her to turn up at a royal ball on a spaceship, of all places. One minute you'd been happily dancing with a duke, the next minute she'd cut in, taking you by the waist and hand back into the middle of the ballroom.

"You," You gasp, staring back at her smug face as she continues to slow dance you.

"Me," She grins.

The Master.

The Master, who is supposed to be your arch-enemy and who you should probably kill on sight. Except you won't, and she knows it.

The last time you had encountered her, you had been on your own, and it had resulted in a lot of flirting and her almost kissing you. She knows you like her, even if you hate that you do.

You hadn't let it move beyond that though, and now standing in her arms, staring at her curley hair, red lipstick and perfect suit, a part of you knows that this time you might be too weak to resist her.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, desperately glancing around for The Doctor. If she was here, that meant trouble was too, and you needed him.

"Can't I check up on my favourite human?"

"You hate humans."

"As far as they go, you're alright," Her hand on your waist slips a little lower, making you bite your lip.

"Aren't you here to kill The Doctor?" You inquire, raising an eyebrow. Her hazel eyes follow every one of your facial movements with an almost fascination.

"Well I will admit, there is a bomb in the other room."

You freeze in her arms. "What?"

"Don't cause a scene, angel."

You paint a glare on your face and try not to let the fact that she had just called you angel visibly affect you.

"I'll cause a lot more than a scene if a bloody bomb goes off," You hiss. "Did you put it there?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," She replies lightly, a mirth in her eyes. "For once, maybe I'm not the only mass murderer in the room."

"What makes you think I should believe a word you say?" You snarl.

She leans in slightly, grinning. "You could have run away from me dear, as soon as you saw me. You could've screamed for your precious Doctor at any moment. But you haven't."

"What makes you think I won't now?"

"You're too scared I'm going to blow this place to pieces if you try make any smart moves." She says. "Besides, you've got a soft spot for me."

You scoff. "I think you'll find, Master," Drawing her name out in the way you know makes her eyes flash with lust. "That you have a soft spot for me too."

She snarls at that, her grip on your waist tightening. You've stated facts, and her reaction only further confirms that.

"Are you trying to make me kill you, Y/N?" She growls. "Want to see how much of a soft spot I have for you when I step over your dead body?"

To her surprise, you laugh, unintimidated.

"Bite me." You reply.

"Is that a dare, or a double dare?" She says, beginning to lean in. She's so godamn close now, and for a minute you think she actually might bite you, blood red lips quirked upwards, pearly whites flashing.

Suddenly, there's a crash. Lights flicker and the floor shifts beneath you, making you stumble out of her arms. She catches your waist, stopping you from falling and pulls you back into her.

"What was that?" She asks, confused as the whole room errupts into panicked shouting. Her curls bob as she looks around frantically, having suddenly lost the upper hand.

"Darling," You mock her. "Don't you know not to reveal your plan to the enemy before you kill them?"

Her mouth falls open, and she roughly brushes away the hair around your ear, revealing a tiny earpiece.

"While I kept you occupied," You continue. "The Doctor listened in and moved your bomb to the hanger of the ship where your TARDIS is parked. He detonated it, and subsequently that hanger is now somewhere half way across the galaxy with your TARDIS in it."

"You-"

"I think," You smirk, leaning in. "That I've just Master-ed you."

You press a quick kiss to her lips, making sure to bite down on her bottom one as you do.

She stares after you, speechless as you spin out of her grip. Laughing, you run back to The Doctor, who's waiting for you at the door. She's shouting after you, but you ignore her, stepping into the TARDIS.

You're sure you'll see her again, anyways.

#whittaker!master x reader #whittaker!master #jodie whittaker #13th doctor imagine #13th doctor x reader #13th doctor #dhawan!doctor #the master x reader #doctor who fanfic #doctor who #doctor who imagines #self insert #reader insert

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cagestark · 5 years ago

Text

+WinterIronSpider//3+

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

Story spurred by this prompt: There’s a meme about a poor college student being robbed; the robber, upon learning just h o w poor, stopping and giving the (empty) wallet back and being sincerely concerned. “You… you live like this?” What if the winter soldier/bucky barnes breaks into struggling college student Peter parker’s apt and all his pre-serum steve instincts are triggered by the state of the place and how /tiny/ Peter is.

This is short but it’s been a while, so I wanted to give it some new content. xo

Warnings: oral and anal sex. exhibitionism.

Peter sleeps, Tony drinks, and Bucky plans murder.

It won’t be a difficult thing. It would be worse if Rumlow lived in the apartment building—Bucky has already been seen there, his figure on film. Not to mention that scrubbing surveillance tapes is an extra step in the plan that he doesn’t dare believe he can afford. When he killed for Hydra, he had Hydra’s resources at his disposal. His face, his DNA, his fingerprints had all been lost to time. Even if his face was caught on camera, it meant nothing.

And if he had been caught? Well, he’d had nothing to live for.

Times have changed. He’d surrendered himself to the US government, forsworn his previous life of crime (and it really wasn’t that hard, once they understood that most of that crime took place under brainwashing and threat of torture). But now people are watching him, even if his pictures weren’t ever released to the public thanks to the high-profile nature of his crimes. The government watches him. Not to mention he has a very good reason for wanting to stay out of prison: namely, a five-foot-nine reason with exquisite, eccentric facial hair.

Rumlow’s address is easy enough to find. He could go to any public library and search for it, and if he has to use more advanced technology, he’s sure that he could get his hands on it. Bucky doubts the man is rich enough to have any security that might hinder him. A motion detector camera? Cake. Those home security systems? No problem. Not for the Winter—

“Bucky.”

Tony’s voice has Bucky jerking away from the window where he was resting his forehead, letting it cool his feverish skin. When he turns, he softens: Tony looks so good, so cozy in his pajamas, EDITH off and on the coffee table, his scotch glass empty. He won’t refill it either, just indulges in small amounts and only on occasion—

“Let’s talk reconnaissance,” says Bucky.

Tony’s eyebrows rise. “Reconnaissance?”

“No—you’re right. Let’s talk method. Anything that will make it like an accident is preferable, but outright murder isn’t so difficult to get away with either. I’ve got three different handguns that aren’t registered, it’s dealer’s choice really—”

“I’m sorry cupcake, you have what? Never mind, please don’t repeat it—FRI, shut down surveillance on this room for a bit and scrub your tapes from the last, oh, two hours.” Tony takes his hand, and the man’s hands are cold. Bucky knows the saying, cold hands, warm heart. Bucky’s own hands are warm. What does that mean for him, he wonders? “Bucky. James. Will you sit? Sit with me.”

They sit. Tony draws the larger man against him and Bucky sags into the intimacy, eyes shutting when tanned fingers card through his hair. His eyes are stinging. His jaw is clenched. Fuck, he is weak. Weak.

“Are you ready? Because I’ve got some tough love to dish out. Some downright poor news to give you.”

Bucky dips his vibranium forefinger into his ear. The other is pressed firmly to Tony’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he says, a little louder than he needs to. “I can’t hear you. I’ve gone deaf.”

Tony chuckles, a warm vibration that makes Bucky’s eyes slip closed.

“We can’t kill Rumlow, Bucky, you know that right? I need to hear you say that you know that.”

Bucky pulls away. He hunches forward, resting his elbows on his knees, letting one hand palm at his stringy, too-long hair. “I don’t know that. I’m supposed to say yes—but I don’t. Maybe I’m not reformed, Tony. Maybe I’m still just one bad day away from being who I was. But I think of someone hurting you or the kid like that and…I’d kill them. I’d do it. I wouldn’t feel bad about it, either.”

“That,” Tony says carefully. “Is something that you can absolutely admit. To me and maybe a license therapist that we have sign some waivers and come to the tower. But that’s not the way this world works.”

“It works for some people,” Bucky says. “Doing bad shit. It works for Rumlow, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?” Tony asks. He wiggles his eyebrows. The man is so facially expressive, the polar opposite of Bucky who struggles to even make his mouth curl into a smile sometimes. “Or is he going to get a serious comeuppance, one that will land him in prison for many, many years?”

“You’ve got an idea,” says Bucky slowly.

“I’ve got twenty ideas, none of which involve murder. Okay, number twelve did. But I shelfed that one right away, because giving my enemies a lifetime of suffering is exactly how I sleep so well at night. Polar bear, I’m going to leave the murder-scene to you, because you have the brooding eyes and intimidating build for it—but let me teach you about my scene. The scene of a billionaire with many, many connections. I can ruin him socially, politically, financially—”

“I want to ruin his kneecaps,” Bucky mutters. “But I know you’re talking sense. Is it weird that I’m a little turned on hearing you talk about ruining a man?”

“Not at all,” Tony purrs. “I’d imagine you want me to ruin you too. Granted, in a very different way.”

“Wouldn’t mind ruining you tonight, actually,” says Bucky. Tony reaches down between his legs and massages at his soft cock, and the sight alone makes Bucky’s own jolt with arousal. His mouth waters, a reflexive action that has him swallowing, even as the sweatpants between Tony’s legs begin to tent. Lowly, Bucky says: “Don’t tease me old man. I’m in a dangerous mood, tonight.”

“I don’t know where to begin taking that statement apart,” Tony sighs, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. He dips a hand beneath the waistband of his sweats and works his cock in long, lazy strokes, barely hidden by the soft fabric. It’s more tantalizing than any lingerie Bucky’s ever seen, teasing, sensual, sexy. “First of all, old men in glass retirement homes shouldn’t throw stones, Mr. Born in 1918. Secondly—” Tony pulls his hand free, frowning. “We really shouldn’t be doing this out here. The kid is in the other room.”

That just makes Bucky’s cock harder. He hunches over himself more to conceal it. Yeah, a kid in his twenties is hardly a kid, but Bucky knows enough about modern society to wonder about the heads that would turn if he and Peter walked down the street together. Peter and Tony walking down the street together? That’s—that’s. “I don’t care if you don’t,” Bucky says.

“FRIDAY, alert us if Peter looks like he’s going to leave his room.”

Bucky slides down off of the couch and maneuvers his way between Tony’s legs. As expressive as his lover is, Tony is very practiced at maintaining his calm exterior when it comes to sex. Bucky considers it a game to see how quickly he can reduce Tony to unabashed, selfish ecstasy. Judging by the way his chest rises and falls with more speed than usual, not to mention how he turns his head and cranes his neck to glance at the door Peter disappeared through as if to make sure the kid wasn’t standing there watching—this exhibition bit is affecting Tony as much as it is Bucky.

Bucky leans forward and mouths at Tony’s cock through the fabric of his sweatpants. Tony’s cock is a thing of wonder, not as long or thick as his own, but above average (especially for a man of his height). The fabric grows dark beneath Bucky’s mouth as he licks at the twitching erection, mapping it out with his lips to find where the head is and lather his tongue over it.

“Jesus, look at you,” Tony murmurs. He is the picture of relaxation, reclined back against the couch cushions, arms spread. “You’re filthy. I love it. You’re going to take me apart tonight, Buck? Bring it on, because—”

Tony’s words melt into a high gasp when Bucky opens his mouth and drags his teeth across his clothed erection. Desperate to finally feel the burning heat and heft of the cock in his mouth, Bucky coaxes Tony’s hips up so that he can jerk down his sweatpants. He would have torn them off altogether if Tony might not need to pull them up in the event Peter makes a midnight trip for a glass of water.

“No talking,” Bucky says, holding Tony’s cock still while he uses his tongue to wet the head and tease the ridge of it where the man is most sensitive. When Tony reaches up to his own mouth and pretends to zip it shut, he takes his lover’s cock deep into his mouth giving a few shallow strokes to slick it before he breathes deep, relaxes his throat, and lets it slip down the back. Tony’s hips jerk up reflexively, one hand coming off of the couch to grab at Bucky’s hair. He doesn’t say anything, but when Bucky glances up, he can see the torture on Tony’s face. The man is a chatterbox even during sex—but tonight, Bucky wants to focus.

The serum has left him with an indecent ability to hold his breath for inordinate amounts of time. It comes in handy now, when he fucks Tony’s cock with his mouth, letting the back of his throat clench around the sensitive head. It doesn’t give him much in the ways of oxygen, but when he needs a breath, he simply pulls off to tongue at the slit. Deepthroating doesn’t give him the satisfaction of tasting Tony’s cum, and he finds himself hungry for it, growling low in the back of his throat.

“Gonna cum,” Tony admits after several long minutes, pressing his lips shut tightly afterwards. Bucky could tell that he was, a hand cradling the man’s balls as they grow stiffer and tighter, drawing up closer to his body. He appreciates the warning, draws back so that when Tony cums, it’s in his mouth and not down his throat. Tony’s orgasm is silent except for the close-mouthed groan he give, the stuttering breaths as one hand nearly pulls Bucky’s hair clear from the roots and the other scrabbles at the leather sofa.

“Fuck, I love you,” Tony pants.

“Show me,” Bucky says through his teeth. “Roll over. Now.”

Tony is rolling before Bucky even finishes the sentence. With his metal hand (still gloved), Bucky pushes the glass coffee table back, back to give them room where Tony kneels, knees on the floor, chest against the seat of the couch. His back is arched beautifully, tanned skin dotted with the occasional scar. His ass is a thing of art—Bucky spits on his fingers and reaches down to find Tony’s hole. The man is still relaxed from their lovemaking that morning, but that doesn’t stop Bucky from fingerfucking him with glee, hearing him stifle his oversensitive noises into the couch cushion. His own cock is aching, the head purple by the time he draws it out from his pants.

“Relax,” Bucky mutters, planting a hand between Tony’s shoulders. He sees one of the man’s fists turn into a gentle thumbs up and tries not to snort—it might take them out of the mood. Reaching down, he uses the head of his cock to search and then press into Tony in one long, slow movement. He grits his teeth, hesitating when he’s balls deep, thighs pressed against the backs of Tony’s. It never gets old: the heat, the slick tightness, the way every squirm of Tony’s tightens the muscles in his ass and squeezes Bucky’s cock.

Bucky presses his hand down harder, encouraging Tony to keep still. The muscles clench again—Tony fucking loves when Bucky is in charge and showing his enhanced strength. So Bucky reaches out and runs his palms, one flesh and one gloved, along Tony’s arms until he reaches the strong wrists. He pulls them back, twists them until they are crossed at the small of the man’s back. Tony moans into the couch cushion.

He can’t hold out anymore. Bucky pulls himself free until just the head is buried in his lover and then sinks back in, groaning at the relief the friction provides him. He’s not going to last long, not as long as Tony had by far, not when he’s greeted with the sight of the trim curve of Tony’s waist, exaggerated by the position. Not when Tony’s ass squeezes his clock like the most sinful glove.

Suddenly, a voice is speaking quietly overhead. FRIDAY. “Peter has left his bed.”

Tony’s back arches with the force of his gasp, head turning to show wild, panicked brown eyes—but Bucky can’t stop, not when he’s so close, not when all he needs are a few more thrusts. Whatever is written on his face must express that because Tony whines high in his throat, chest dropping back onto the couch heavily. He clenches his muscles and Bucky hisses, the pressure on his cock borderline painful. Only another second or two has passed, but he imagines that he can hear Peter’s footsteps, and that is what drives him over the edge. Clenching his teeth together to keep from crying out, Bucky’s eyes squeeze shut as he pumps load after load into Tony’s tight ass.

“Peter appears to be exiting his room—” FRIDAY warns.

Bucky’s cock is still twitching when he slips it free of Tony and shoves it back into his jeans. He takes care of Tony first, helping to pull up the man’s sweat pants and then zip and button his own. They can hear the click of the doorknob turning just as they are standing.

Peter blinks at the light in the main room, squinting a little. Tony shifts, breathing heavy. Bucky wonders if cum is running down his legs, and his cock twitches. When Peter sees them both there, he blushes prettily, his curls mussed as if he’s tried to sleep.

“Sorry,” Peter croaks. “I was just going to get a glass so I could drink some water from the tap.”

“I have sparkling,” Tony says. He claps Bucky on the shoulder, hard. “Bucky will be more than glad to show it to you—”

Peter’s face flushes even more and then—oh no—he glances downward, no chance he will miss the way that Bucky is still half-hard, and under the kid’s soft brown eyes Bucky feels himself becoming interested again, God, this is a nightmare. The kid’s eyes just as quickly flick over to Tony’s groin but then they stop, brows furrowing and then climbing upwards.

Bucky glances quickly for himself, and his own eyes grow twice their size. The groin of Tony’s sweatpants is still wet and dark with Bucky’s saliva from where he fellated the man through the fabric. It’s not soaked by any means, but questionable at best.

“There’s an explanation for that,” Tony says, sounding very much like he’s going to give the most reasonable excuse any of them have ever heard. Bucky himself is preparing to be surprised, but then—

“He’s incontinent,” Bucky blurts.

“No—” Tony says, clapping him on the back. “Points for trying, honey, but I am not—"

“I, it’s okay, it’s not my business—I just, you know what? There’s a faucet in the bathroom, sorry, I’ll just—”

Peter disappears into his room. The last glimpse they get is of Peter’s red face, one wide brown eyes staring through the crack in the door before it shuts quietly.

Tony reaches out and gently slaps Bucky upside the head. “Incontinent?” he hisses. “How old do you think I fucking am, Buck?”

“It was the first thing that came to mind, okay?”

“What is it with you and this kid?” Tony asks. He’s the only man who can sound so quizzical and collected with cum dripping down his legs. “He gets you so flustered, like I’ve never seen you. Give me the scoop—I don’t think he’ll be showing his face out here again tonight. Go on, start from the beginning, and tell me everything. We’re in this together now.”

So, after Tony returns from the restroom, Bucky does. Because he believes Tony, he trusts Tony when the man says that they’re in it together, and he knows that there’s (probably) nothing he could say that would make the man love him any less. Tony’s face is expressive, a Shakespearean drama playing out all his features, a cocktail of tragedy and affection and exasperation and concern all at once. By the time it ends, both of their erections are gone, and the man looks like he’s aged ten years in ten minutes.

“I keep thinking about Steve,” Bucky says at length. His head rests in Tony’s lap, staring up at the goatee he’s become so fond of. “I think about him every day, which still isn’t as often as I should. ‘ve been wondering if he’d be proud of the kind of man I am now. It makes me feel like shit.”

“He’d be proud,” Tony says, carding thick fingers through Bucky’s hair. He lets his calloused thumb drift over the plain of Bucky’s forehead to rub at the furrow between his eyes, snorting when Bucky raises and lowers his eyebrows. “It’s not easy, starting from scratch the way you have.”

“Steve did it.”

“He made some amazing mistakes, too, if you remember the tales correctly.”

Bucky turns onto his side and buries his face in the soft fabric of Tony’s shirt. “I just feel like this is what he would want me to do. All day I struggle to decide what the right choice is, and half the time I have no idea what I’m doing. But when I saw him, I knew I had to help, and I knew in my heart it was right. Does that make sense?”

Tony hums. “You’d be surprised.”

#winterironspider #nff #cagewrites

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