#looks a lot diff than what was in my head but! turned out fine

[brights-place]

Could you do a trolls cooper x male reader husband reader meets cooper family and they have a kid

Cooper and Husband! S/O meeting his family

Pairings: Cooper X Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Cooper from trolls with his husband meeting Cooper is family! EEEEE I LOVE THE TWINSSS SO MUCHHH! Cooper and Prince D are so fucking rad dude ( ≧ᗜ≦) - You stood beside Cooper with an pale face "Sugarplum I can't do this" You said sweating nervously as Cooper giggles nuzzling into your cheek. - You laughed at your husband who you know goofs off and is less-than-serious than other Trolls. He often appears quite dimwitted which you love as you cup his face - You smiled inhaling his scent of tulips as you kissed his cheek adoring his laugh - You love how his ears perked up when he saw this bubble which you entered with him to meet his family - You stood beside cooper the whole time who heard his whole past and how they were looking for him the whole time while your jaw dropped eyes wide when glancing at cooper before your hands went towards your ring fiddling with it to calm your anxiety - "So... from what Im getting is that cooper is a whole diff genre. Okay cool cool my bestfriend is a funk troll! I need to breathe before I pass out" you muttered to yourself as cooper walked over to you and spoke "You good?" "Cooper I'm glad you found your family but im shocked how fine they are" you muttered sweat dropping as cooper laughed - His parents and brother found it hilarious before Prince D walked over to you "Thanks dude... you ain't to bad yourself" he said playfully nudging you making you laugh - As you two conversed and enjoyed hearing the story more about funk troll you mainly focused on cooper is smile and happy face as you smiled at him lovingly King Quincy knowing that look far to well the same look he gives Queen Essence - You asked to hear some samples of funk and hiphop which they gladly showed you which you enjoyed and every now and then doing small dancing knowing since you were in a new environment it would be hard to not be judged for... your music and dancing

- You loved Funk and enjoyed the cultural learning about it glad that Coopers parents would teach you about it As Prince D was whispering to Cooper who was blushing and was talking to his brother with a laugh - But when you watch funk trolls dancing it was adapted to fit with their body type which involved a lot of footwork! with quadrupedal ones taking advantage of having four feet over most Trolls' two. They also move their neck and head a lot in conjunction with this, and bend or swing it to the beat, which is another physical trait other Troll Tribes don't have. - You loved how amazing funk was but you enjoyed your genre more but you knew the history of what pop trolls had done so you didn't bother at all - But when Queen essence and King Quincy asked for you and cooper to show some Pop music. You noticed how cooper cheered but how prince D nodded his head smiling as you glanced towards cooper who turned to you quickly as you spoke "I know that look- No! No Cooper don't you dare- YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVEEEE!" You screamed trying to runaway as Cooper chased you around shouting "YOU CANNOT RUNNN!" - Soon you started having a smile stretch on your face as you satretd to sing with Cooper you both dancing and tewirling as you started to have fun while singing as you cheered when you finished singing as you threw glitter in the air out of nowhere before pausing when realizing you threw it and panicked apologizing to them - The three laughed enjoying your behaviour as cooper kissed your cheek "I told you babe! my parent's love you!" you laughed lightly "Cooper please your family is Royalty- wait... Oh shit your royalty! im marrying a prince!" You said remembering cooper was a prince as Prince D snorted making you blush in embarrassment - Cooper was showing his brother and father his new song he learned on the hermonica as Queen Essence stood beside you smiling softly "You know your a good husband... He talks alot about you and how you know stuff about him that he sometimes forgets" Queen Essence giggled as you blushed panicking slightly "really? I don't think so! I mean I love Cooper! he is amazing partner! I enjoy how he smells like tulips how his favorite flavor is wacky watermelon and he loves cheering me up with his jokes and playing his harmonica and coddles me with affection that I crave but I don't know if I am doing well-" "Darling please thats what Quincy was when we got married! don't worry your doing good" Queen Essence said smiling softly as you nodded letting out a sigh of relief - You and Queen Essence soon formed a bond and would gossip together when either of you visited - Cooper's style of comedy is non-sequitur, meaning that he's silly often for the sake of being silly which you love about your husband - When you get tired though he lets you rest on him as he continues talking and laughing like always

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[bcbdrums]

🍄🍬🌿🧩 Truth or Dare!

"🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings"

uhmm... hmmm... hmmm... i don't think i can pick one pair, lol. i'm gonna pick. a few.

i'll preface this by saying i'm a canon purist 99% of the time, so when i have a headcanon, it's because i think i can defend it very well with evidence from the source material.

Star Trek - Jim and Spock share a mental link that was created by accident and allowed intermittent empathy/mild telepathy of both a conscious and subconscious nature. this is evidenced in several episodes, but a particular moment on the bridge in The Immunity Syndrome is my solid basis for this. (I promise I'll keep writing "Always Will"... Star Trek is the fandom of my heart. I'll come back to it. I promise.)

Kim Possible - (angst alert! tw: infant death. tw: child death. tw: miscarriage. i hope i did that right...) Drakken and Shego had twins that didn't survive. The event brought them closer together and made them re-think their priorities... This is post-canon when they were dealing with the good vs. evil issues already, and the only thing they knew for sure was they wanted to be together. This event also led them to realize...they want to be parents. (Yes, my fic "Rekindling" is in fact, headcanon...)

Soul Eater - I haven't posted a fic about this one yet so I'm leery to share it... But a story is already in the works. And I'll be very, very vague... Stein's "experiments" on Spirit were extremely mild and rapidly turned into something else... Something Stein was doing to cover for Spirit, to protect him from something else going on in his life... And that's where I'm leaving that because I want it to be a surprise when I post the story! But a couple people I've told might guess this, heheh. (No title for this story yet... Titles are my worst enemy.)

"🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character"

Spirit Albarn did not cheat on his wife. 😎 I'll die on this hill. In a diff post than the one I link, I compared him to Greg Universe (of Steven Universe). The authors present both as characters you want to hate, who you question, who look like lousy fathers. But slowly the story starts to unfold and you realize...there's more here than what was presented on the surface. And maybe the surface was a lie all along. I use that comparison because most people seem to get it with Greg. But only a few people get it with Spirit. That's fine. It's my headcanon; it doesn't have to be yours. And I enjoy other ppl's headcanons very much. But you did ask.

"🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity"

this is where the whole... 'write for yourself' thing, comes into play. i've actually seen a lot of tumblr discourse about this recently... write for yourself! people say. but, we share creations out because...we want people to see them. we are writing for ourselves, and then sharing them...

here's what i'm learning. my motivation to create has to be for myself, in the grand scheme. it's fine to create things here and there for others. and i personally love gifting fanfic. but if your goal when you go into creating is... 'i'm going to tailor this story so this person will like it,' or, 'i'm gonna post this and i can't wait till this person comments!' that's when you're in danger... you're not creating for yourself anymore. now your satisfaction is going to come from...what that person thinks, whether or not they comment, how deep is their comment...

your satisfaction has to come from responding to your own creative drive.... i suppose that's where the advice starts. make sure your motives are in the right place. and... hey, if the creativity is sated? allow yourself to rest! as i'm writing this (it's being queued so, not coming out near the same day it was asked), my writing well is a bit dry. you might want to create, and feel bad you're not doing so... but it's okay to rest! if your mind just wants to daydream but the hands don't want to write the story or draw the piece right then... just let yourself be. allow yourself that space. i think you'll find creativity is better for it in the long run.

'but i'm worried my followers will be disappointed?' now, there you're not creating for you again... if they're friends, they'll still be there. if they're just...a random number in your stats, then again... your motives aren't in the right place. i'm a firm believer in...don't base your self-worth on internet stats. it's just not something i can get onboard with. your value is not determined by number of views, comments, reblogs, etc...

"🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?"

ahhhh hmmm.... i haven't done any immediate clicks in awhile. i'd say if something squicks me pretty suddenly. but blessedly, with AO3 tagging, i can often avoid accidentally running into those things.

wanna be clear though, writing is in art itself and sometimes... well, i'll give an example. i read a fic not too long ago with a twist ending. it is the sort of thing i would not have read had i known. but, had they tagged for the twist it would have ruined the story. so i was not bothered by the lack. i personally would have done the same. am i haunted by what i read? yes. but storytelling is its own art and well...yeah. it's not like in picking up a physical book we're gonna get the tag warnings.

that was slightly off topic, uhhh... i think mostly just if one of my squicks shows up i'll click away. something that's not my thing. and depending on how good the fic is, i'll try to push past it. but if it keeps happening... like there was one long, long multi-chap where main char was kidnapped and tortured and my poor li'l happy-ending heart didn't realize until i was fairly deep in that the whole point of the fic was torture that just got worse and worse... closed that one, never finished.

oh okay but one thing... if a story is VERY out of character, then i'm not interested. like.... the whole point in fanfic is to see more of the character so if it doesn't read like them, then... yeah. that's actually probably the most immediate thing for me. i can handle poor grammar and formatting and english-second-language writers and new writers who are learning the craft... all of that is fine. long as the character is in character, i'm pretty game to read most things.

thanks for the ask!!!!

[baekhvuns]

Okay I'm here after reading all the hwa ffs in less than a month (talent ladies). So, I'm going to review it. Although, ik everyone already knows how perfect those ffs are but hey.

1. Bodygaurd

Accidentally tumbled upon this and I'm glad I did. I mean it's been so much time I've spent on Tumblr and then this shows like a miracle. So, OHMYGOD PARK SEONGHWA IN A SUIT AND GLASSES , READY TO SHOOT SOMEONE WHO COMES NEAR ME?!?! Perfect. The story was so well-planned and i like how even though y/n had grown up through so many hurdles she still was so cheerful and bubbly and not all emo and depressed. Ok i get if some fic writers do it in a few of their fic i get it, sometimes the mc has to have some issues BUT I'm tired of it. Really. I'm trying to escape this reality to somewhere where I can be someone i very much aspire to be and not to be depressed which I practically I am irl so ...yeah 😃. Oh and tears. I did tell u i cried and i was not joking.

2. Just friends

You knew ... you knew what you were doing when you wrote that and how much of an impact it would have on us. I can literally hear that one tiktok sound that goes "the hOe$ gonna love this..." AND I BET THATS WHAT WENT THROUGH YOUR HEAD. But let be real tho, this fic was everything. When the fashion world gets involved with love and Seonghwa?!?! Masterpiece. Shakespeare could never. Plus the clothes inspo?!? This was one of the fic i could actually visualise yk?

3. Rewrite the stars

These types of tropes are basically what I live for. Its like you know you have limited time, you can't fall in love, you mustn't but...oh well look at how the sun shines on his face as he gives his million dollar smile. I think it'd be fine to fall in love. Even if it's just for a few days. Maybe just for tonight.

*kickin the air and rolling in my bed* OH AND BUDAPEST??? 🫠🫠

4. The Duke and his general

Its a classic.

I thought.

But oh boy was i wrong. First of all the simplicity of the fic..and the classic trope but then you get to the plot and then boom! Its like i kind of have gotten used to the whole meet -> fall in love -> get heart broken -> finally together.

And honestly I'm glad I saw the fic after they'd already been written completely because lord knows what I would've done with the whole amount of curiosity after every part.

5. Mr and Mrs Park

Holy oompa loompas THIS!!! THIS IS WHAT WE CALL 'INSPIRATION'!! Ykw...i don't even have words. The last scene at the beach tho. Chills literal ✨chills✨. And the whole loop that starts from the 'A. You messed up' and it ended on the same line but obviously now it had a diff. Meaning. And ong I can never look at a person named 'nayoung' the same.

6. Khronos

No words.Just tears and trauma.

7. The trouble with hating you

Again, the trope was simple. And oh we have seen it in so many movies and dramas about this. BUT yet again you sprinkled it with your own touch. Idk how you do it but when I read your fic i actually transform into yn. I am the real yn when I'm so into reading those lines and talking to air that my family becomes concerned but do i care?...no. and that's what we need in a story! I really hated hwa here tho. HOW COULD YOU?? But hey, yn's got charms 😏

8. Lets not fall in love, again

This was so hurtful. Because, i did not know people getting divorced felt like that. See? That's how you elucidate the feelings. When you're single asf but you still feel the pain of getting seperated from a man who has no idea you exist. Yes. I also recently realised that you have kind of a lot going on. Which again! Intersting.

At first, i was so mad at hwa at the start of the fic i was like wth did I even do. Turns out....he just did it out of love 😭. So pure.

Basically you have the best ffs I have read so far. 🙌🙌

o my god i am actually screaming

1. bodyguard : Accidentally tumbled upon this and I'm glad I did. I mean it's been so much time I've spent on Tumblr and then this shows like a miracle. So, OHMYGOD PARK SEONGHWA IN A SUIT AND GLASSES, READY TO SHOOT SOMEONE WHO COMES NEAR ME?!?! Perfect. The story was so well-planned and i like how even though y/n had grown up through so many hurdles she still was so cheerful and bubbly and not all emo and depressed. Ok i get if some fic writers do it in a few of their fic i get it, sometimes the mc has to have some issues BUT I'm tired of it. Really. I'm trying to escape this reality to somewhere where I can be someone i very much aspire to be and not to be depressed which I practically I am irl so ..yeah g. On and tears. I did tell u i cried and i was not joking.

DBWNDJWKDHWKHEKW IM CRYING UR SO SWEET FOR THIS REVIEW IM ACTUALLY GONNA SOB BFMWDH no bc ur so right on that part like why do all the yn’s gotta be depressed, let’s make the guy depressed 🤚🏻 u are so right on that last part 100% !!!

2. just friends : You knew ... you knew what you were doing when you wrote that and how much of an impact it would have on us. I can literally hear that one tiktok sound that goes "the hOe$ gonna love this... AND I BET THATS WHAT WENT THROUGH YOUR HEAD. But let be real tho, this fic was everything. When the fashion world gets involved with love and Seonghwa?!?! Masterpiece. Shakespeare could never. Plus the clothes inspo?!? This was one of the fic i could actually visualise yk?

THE WAY I FUCKING GASPED AT THE MEME JFBWKCJSKD I KNEW THIS WAS COMING 😭😭😭😭😭 o i did EXACTLY THAT 🥰🥰 i knew how nasty this fic would be and what the reaction will be, two top models and enemies??? sign me up! this fic was my fashion résumé actually <3 RIGHT I LOVED WRITING THE PHYSICAL PHOTOSHOOT ITSELF

3. rewrite the stars : These types of tropes are basically what I live for. Its like you know you have limited time, you can't fall in love, you mustn't but…oh well look at how the sun shines on his face as he gives his million dollar smile. I think it'd be fine to fall in love. Even if it's just for a few days. Maybe just for tonight. *kickin the air and rolling in my bed* OH AND BUDAPEST??? 🫠🫠

no ur so right, these travelling romances are the >>>> top tier of any tier,, the thrill of romance & the separation 😮‍💨😮‍💨 OH MY GOD IM GONNA STEAL THAT PARAGRAPH MISS CHAERSSSS !!!!! U MAD EMT MIND GO BRRR WITH THAT & yes budapest <3 im absolutely in love w that city, was debating on italy but miss budapest got me

4. the uke and his general : Its a classic. I thought. But oh boy was i wrong. First of all the simplicity of the fic..and the classic trope but then you get to the plot and then boom! Its like i kind of have gotten used to the whole meet - fall in love - get heart broken -> finally together. And honestly I'm glad I saw the fic after they'd already been written completely because lord knows what I would've done with the whole amount of curiosity after every part.

FBWKDHSK U FOUND MY FORMULA AND I WILL USE EVERY BIT OF IT! ahhh ur right, a simple fic turned out to be so big it amazes me! it really was a craze the curiosity and excitement when i first released it, the anons attacking hwa during that time in the fic amazing ✊🏻

5. mr and mrs park : Holy oompa loompas THIS!!! THIS IS WHAT WE CALL 'INSPIRATION'!! Ykw... don't even have words. The last scene at the beach tho. Chills literal ✨ chills. ✨ And the whole loop that starts from the 'A. You messed up' and it ended on the same line but obviously now it had a diff. Meaning. And ong I can never look at a person named 'nayoung' the same.

FBWKDHWK THE SCENE WHERE “come to daddy” *beats the shit out him* “who’s your daddy now” IM FJWKHD 🤲🏻🤲🏻 nayoung will make a return in this blog again in that yunho fic <3

6. khronos : No words. Just tears and trauma.

7. the trouble with hating you : Again, the trope was simple. And oh we have seen it in so many movies and dramas about this. BUT yet again you sprinkled it with your own touch. Idk how you do it but when I read your fic i actually transform into yn. I am the real yn when I'm so into reading those lines and talking to air that my family becomes concerned but do i care?...no. and that's what we need in a story! I really hated hwa here tho. HOW COULD YOU?? But hey, yn's got charms

DBQNJDKWHDKW IM SO GLAD ITS READ LIKE THIS, TEARS IN MY EYES these are the biggest compliments ever 😭😭😭😭 HEY ITS ALL ATEEZ’S FAULT IN THAT OKAYF HWJDHEJ

8. lets not fall in love, again : This was so hurtful. Because, i did not know people getting divorced felt like that. See? That's how you elucidate the feelings. When you're single asf but you still feel the pain of getting seperated from a man who has no idea you exist. Yes. I also recently realised that you have kind of a lot going on. Which again! Intersting. At first, i was so mad at hwa at the start of the fic i was like wth did I even do. Turns out....he just did it out of love 😭. So pure. Basically you have the best ffs I have read so far.

this is the best description of that fic, he did out of love 😭😭😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!! ALL OF THIS HAS MADE MY ENTIRE YEAR IM GONNA BE SAVING THIS WHEN I NEED TO SMILE STOP IT THIS IS SO NICE FBNWDJKW 😭😭😭😭

[archivebottles]

Knife In Hand

[oh-obrien]

AAAH THE ONE SHOT WITH THE STOVE WAS EVERYTHING! ✨✨Could I also request something? I did feel the duel scene was a bit underwhelming, I did want some more drama tbh (and I love Anthony as well). What about a one shot Anthony x reader, where the reader accompanies Daphne and lots of more drama? Perhaps reader gets hurt, Anthony in panic, angsty and stuff..feel free to adjust

I HOPE THIS ONE IS GOOD TOO!! I took a few creative liberties with this, adjusting the events on the show to fit the request and what not. 

I’m coming off of a little bit of a migraine hangover and tbh I’m not sure how I feel about this right now on top of getting back into the swing of school. This is the first day since Friday that looking at my computer for more than twenty minutes doesn’t hurt my head so sorry it took longer than expected. 

As always if you’re not happy with this, or if you want to request anything else feel free to slide into my inbox! These requests are SUPER fun.

After Daphne’s scandalous run in with Simon in the garden the night before, Anthony had taken it upon himself to challenge his long-time friend to a duel. The ball was supppsed to be your and Anthony’s grand debut as the newest couple of the season, however, you never got your dance with the Lord, and your dance card now laid empty and forgotten on the floor of the Bridgerton study.

Your dress also laid crumpled in a ball of fabric in the corner of the room. After hearing of your and Anthony’s intentions to begin properly courting, Violet had taken you to the seamstress to get one of your gown adjusted. Genevieve Delacroix had added stunning crystals to the delicate pale green fabric. Your had had been done perfectly by the Bridgerton family’s staff and you had even agreed to wearing a small amount of makeup. However, the night of your dreams abruptly ended when Anthony interrupted your conversation with Colin to inform you both he would be taking Daphne home for the evening as she was not feeling well.

The anger pouring off the eldest Bridgerton was like nothing you had ever seen before and you couldn’t help but wonder if she had rejected the Prince’s proposal, as you knew he had to intend to propose soon, and no night seemed better. However, as Anthony dragged his sister away you couldn’t catch his or Daphne’s eye, leaving your dreams of starting a whirlwind public relationship with Anthony crushed.

You now sat on the desk in the Bridgerton study, Colin pacing around the room in front of you, his boots rhythmically hitting the floor with every step he took. “What if he kills Simon?”

“Colin-”

“What if Simon kills him?”

“Colin I don’t think that-”

“Benedict surely doesn’t want to be bothered with the social scene, does that mean the responsibility to escort all of my sisters through their season falls on me?” The boy in front of you stopped pacing and pulled on the roots of his hair, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I’m supposed to be traveling soon! Anthony is supposed to be the mature one, he’s supposed to know how to run the family! Not me!”

“COLIN! STOP!” You finally cut the boy off, standing up and placing both of your hands firmly on his shoulders. “Nothing is going to happen to Simon or Anthony, no one saw Simon and Daphne in that garden other than your brother so there’s nothing to hide!” You dropped your hands from Colin’s shoulder. 

“But-” both you and Colin turned to face the door of the study, Daphne standing in the doorway, her tone sombre and her head bowed towards the ground. “What if someone did see?”

You stepped away from Colin to face the eldest Bridgerton daughter, your tone changing to one of concern. “What do you mean what if someone saw,” you felt panic starting to bubble up in your chest. “Did someone see you and Simon in the garden last night?” You thought Anthony had been overreacting when he pulled yourself and Colin into the study the night before after you had helped escort Lady Bridgerton home. But if Daphne was concerned someone saw her and Simon kiss, maybe he wasn’t overreacting.

Daphne opened her mouth, as if she wanted TJ speak, before closing it again. Silence fell across the three of you before you heard Daphne gasp. “Cressida Cowper,” Daphne blurted out. “When Anthony brought me inside she stopped me and and asked if I caught a chill in the garden.” You watched Daphne’s expression change to one of concern.

“Cressida Cowper,” Colin started running a frustrated hand over his face again, “saw you and Hastings in the garden last night and Anthony, nor Hastings, know?” He took in a long breath before leering the air out through his nose.

Daphne quickly shook her head. “Colin you need to tell me where they went,” Daphne demanded. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, not finding it proper to interrupt the conversation between the siblings.

“Daphne, Hasting has, he’s done you one of the greatest dishonors,” Colin quickly shook his head, giving his sister a clearly confused look. “I’m sure you want him to pay.”

“I don’t want him to pay with his life!” Daphne’s voice grew louder and you stepped towards the sibilants again, hoping you wouldn’t have to be the one to calm their tempers so no one else in the estate would be woken.

“Well, I’m sure both Anthony and the Duke will do as gentlemen should and shoot wide,” Colin supplemented with a shrug.

You stepped between the two siblings, “besides,” you supplemented, “everyone might just think that Cressida has a grudge against you. You did take the Prince’s attention off of her, even if you don’t want to admit it.” 

Daphne, however, seemed to refuse to take no for an answer. “Colin you need to tell me where they went.” She turned to her brother again, a desperate look on her face now, “you know Anthony’s pride won’t let him shoot wide.”

Colin puffed air into his cheek, letting it out slowly before speaking. “Fine, but we’re coming with you.” 

You had been lucky enough to be able to bring your own horse with you to London, and now, racing towards the site of the duel, you were glad you had. The Bridgerton’s horses clearly had not gotten used to speeding across the hills, as they lagged slightly behind you. Years of living out in the middle of the country had given you, and your horses, the ability to adapt to all different types of terrain. Be it flooded field, rolling hills or even shoulder high grasses, your horses were able to tackle it all.

You were glad your hair, still expertly tied up from the night before, had yet to be taken out as it kept the strands from flying into your face, distracting you from the task at hand. Still slightly ahead of both Colin and Daphne you were able to make out five figures standing in a plot of open land between two beautiful trees. Anthony and Simon were back to back in the clearing, both men clutching a handgun between their hands.

“You can go faster,” you urged your horse while he pushed himself to fly faster through the tall grass field, his breath coming out in heavy puffs. Anthony and Simon began to take slow, steady steps away from each other and you held your breath, knowing you were unable to push your horse to go any faster without him hurting himself. 

Both men paused briefly before turning to face each other. Anthony pointed his gun towards Simon, while the Duke aimed towards the sky. Now, within proper distance of the ongoing duel you started to slow your horse. “Anthony!” You swung both of your legs to one side of your horse, trying to keep your balance while you did so. “Anthony stop!” Your horse slowed to nearly a stop and you let yourself slide off your horse’s back, your feet not even hitting the ground before you were running towards the two men.

“What are you doing?” Benedict practically yelled while you ran in between Anthony and the Duke. “Anthony! Anthony stop!” Benedict called when he realized you had already made up your mind. However, his call for the eldest Bridgerton to hold his fire.

Before you knew what had hit you, in both a literal and figurative sense, you felt a searing pain cut across your cheek. The bang of the gun firing didn’t reach your ears until after you had hit the ground, your left hand clutched tightly over your right cheek. Anthony and Benedict calling your name didn’t register either, especially when you pulled your hand away from your cheek and noticed it had been covered in blood.

“(Y/N),” a warm, heavy hand was placed on your shoulder and another pulled your hand away from your cheek. “The doctor needs to make you’re you’re fine, (Y/N),” Anthony’s panicked eyes met your own. However, you couldn’t focus on them with the pain in your cheek and the blood still covering your hand.

An older man crouched down next to you, pulling a medical bag up next to him and opening it before he began expecting the wound on your cheek. “The bullet just grazed her,” the doctor spoke while he began cleaning the wound, “she’s lucky.”

“Thank the heavens,” Anthony breathed out while he pressed his forehead to your temple on your unharmed side, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. “I’m so sorry,” you could hear his voice break towards the end.

“She’s perfectly fine my lord, keep the wound clean and covered and it’ll heal in absolutely no time.” You winced when you felt the doctor wipe something across your cheek, the pain flaring up momentarily before subsiding again. “I’m sure you could tell Lady Bridgerton it was a riding accident and everything would be believed. “If that’s all, and you gentlemen don’t intend on trying the duel again,” the doctor looked between Anthony and the Duke, “I’ll be going.”

Hasting and Anthony both thanked the doctor before he departed, Daphne and Simon engaged in a seemingly heated conversation along with Colin and Benedict. “(Y/N).” Anthony started, both of your hands held in one of his large ones. “I don’t-”

“I can’t right now, Anthony,” you placed a hand across your covered cheek. “I just,” you let out a frustrated sigh, “I’m questioning if your mind and your heart and in two different places at the moment.” You felt tears begin to gather in the corners of your eyes.

“(Y/N), please,” Anthony seemed to be nearly begging, tears gathered in his own eyes while you stood up. Your hands felt from his grip and you cupped his cheek with one, running your thumb along his cheek bone.

You offered the man in front of you a sad smile before you removed your hand. “I’m going to ask one of your brothers to escort me home while you and the others decide the next steps between Daph and the Duke.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t allow him to. “Once you reconsider priorities we can revisit our arrangement, but I will not be second to any other reckless endeavors you wish to engage in if we do get married.”

With that you turned from the Viscount, still on his knees in the damp morning grass, tears in his eyes and a frown on his face.

[viperbarnes]

The Tie That Binds – [Three of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.

But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

Note: This is entirely un-beta’d so all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading!

<- Prev / Next ->

You’ve just stepped out of the grocery store when you’re half-barrelled into by something big and solid. Instead of falling, like you expect, when the moment passes, you realise not only are you standing upright, but that your arms have been relieved of the two heavy paper bags you’d previously held.

It takes you second to fully process the situation, but when you do, you find yourself blinking up at the smug face of Bucky Barnes, your load now tucked easily under his arm, looking a whole lot smaller than when you’d struggled to pick them up.

“Wha– I thought you were away?!” You let yourself gasp in belated surprise, resting a hand over your heart momentarily. He wears sunglasses, which you find odd considering it wasn’t exactly bright out, but you’re still a little too taken aback by his sudden appearance to really make note of it.

“And miss our shopping trip?” He asks, voice filled with mock horror.

“You can’t shake me off that easy. I stick.” The smugness melts from his features, replaced by something softer as you shake your head at him, beginning to walk.

Almost a whole month and a half of these regular, strange meetings, and the two of you had fallen into something that felt a lot like friendship, but crucially, wasn’t quite. Usually he’d help you with your groceries, sometimes you’d corner him at a cafe and seemingly quiz him on aspects of HYDRA and your capture. It was… comfortable, and you hated to admit it, but you’d sorely missed actual human interaction.

Bucky moves to walk beside you on the footpath, and you eye him. You understand why he wears sunglasses now, at this angle you could clearly see the large purple and black bruise around the ring of his eye, and when you take a closer, less subtle look at his clothing, you realise he’d simply thrown on his heavy winter coat over top of what looked like a blue motorcycle jacket.

“You know I would have been just fine if you had somewhere else to be…” You venture, shifting your eyes away from him as you speak. Bucky glances down at you, and then at his attire.

“Just got back.” He says shortly, though you’ve come to know that was just his way sometimes.

“Most people might go take a shower… get some sleep… not go help some lady with her shopping.” You muse.

The slight smugness returns to his face and his gait and he swings his head to look down at you with a corny grin, only added to by the shades.

“Most people aren’t me.” He tells you cockily, leaning down slightly to emphasise this. He leans back again moments later, as if considering you, and you squirm a little under his gaze.

“Besides, I think you like having someone do the heavy liftin’.” It’s still part of his act, something halfway between a shadow of himself from a different time, and a romance lead perhaps.

You noticed he fell back on humour, on sarcasm or this faux personality whenever he felt like his true response wouldn’t be acceptable. Maybe most people wouldn’t notice the shifts so clearly, but you do. You did the same thing any time you had to interact with another human being.

Still, the way it makes butterflies appear in your chest sends you off kilter every time, not just because it was him, but because it had been a solid amount of time since anybody spoke to you or flirted with you like you were a halfway decent option. Especially someone who looked like Bucky.

You weren’t blind, you’d recognised his objective attractiveness long ago, somewhere in a dimly lit room, where tracing his jawline was a distraction from whatever else.

But it was different now. He wasn’t just the tragically beautiful assassin you were forced to work on, he was… Bucky.

An almost friend.

Bucky.

You scoff at his display, and at any fleeting notion that he’d even really look at you twice, and shake your head.

“I can’t say it doesn’t help on the days my hands shake too much… Lost one too many cartons of eggs to that.” You chortle at your own past predicament.

You miss the way Bucky’s smile falters, and his shoulders drop, and he forces himself to look away from you for several seconds.

“Where were you, anyway?” You ask, changing the subject as you come to a set of lights. Bucky shifts your groceries to his other arm and cocks his head at you.

“I’m pretty sure our deal was that I answer questions about what I used to do. Didn’t think my current shenanigans were on the table…?” You see an eyebrow rise above the lens of the glasses, and roll your eyes.

“Fine. I didn’t want to hear about your sidekick stuff anyway.” You turn away from him slightly only for him to step into your view again.

“Sidekick? You call me a sidekick?” Bucky sounds almost genuinely offended, and you scoff, leaving him trailing behind you when the walking light turns green and you make for the other side of the street.

“Please, you’re basically a professional sidekick.” You can’t keep the grin from your lips now as Bucky hurries to catch up with you, his brow now in a deep set frown.

“That’s unkind. That’s hurtful.” He tells you, truly, honestly pouting.

“I’ll have you know my sidekick stuff is extremely interesting.” He continues, sticking his nose up a little now. You shrug.

“Probably, but you didn’t wanna tell me about it so…” You spin to face him as you speak, stopping on your apartment buildings stoop.

Bucky still pouts as you blindly buzz yourself in, taking towards the stairs right away. Bucky follows, and you realise a little too late that he never usually came inside with you. He’d usually hand over your things at the door. Truthfully, as dismissive as you were being, you were actually rather glad he’d shown up, and you weren’t quite ready yet to part ways.

The rest of the climb to your floor is filled with Bucky huffing about how cool his job was, and you internally wondering if it was too weird to invite him inside. Your fear of the man had all but evaporated, despite the frequent dreams you’d been having, but you wonder if letting him into your home would change that.

Your apartment was your sanctuary. You had escape routes mapped just in case, you’d organised your things so that there was always some kind of makeshift weapon available to you in every room… considering these plans were made with his last break-in in mind, you’re not sure how your subconscious might react to having him physically within your space again.

You act as natural as possible, and when you do reach your door, you force yourself to steady your hand as you unlock it. Bucky had stopped even his playful whining, and you know he isn’t ignorant to the current situation.

Stepping inside, you hold your door open with your hip and casually jerk your head in the direction of your kitchen.

“That can just go on the counter.” You say, cursing the slight shake in your words. You continue ahead of him quickly, even as you hear your door close shut behind you, depositing your purse and coat on the sofa.

Bucky does as you say, and you turn in time to see him step back from the countertop, his eyes darting around the space quickly.

A different kind of anxiety rolls over you then, and you regret having not tidied up a little before inviting him inside.

“It’s a little messy…” You apologise, sweeping some dust from the nearest surface and scrunching your nose. Bucky blinks at you and frowns, opening his mouth, but you accidentally cut him off as another thought hits you.

“And I’m sorry about the cold… The window keeps breaking.” You gesture to the main window in your living space, rolling your eyes a little.

Bucky’s face morphs into a frown as he looks past you to the window in question, a plastic bag duct taped over a portion.

“Your windows broken?” He asks, concern filling his voice.

“It keeps happening. My landlord employs the cheapest handyman in the city, I swear to god…” You roll your eyes again and try to brush it off with a laugh, but Bucky’s face doesn’t change, even as he looks back to you.

“It’s the middle of winter.” He states, and then before you can reply, he straightens, his frown of displeasure shifting into one of determination.

“I’ll fix it.”

---

Bucky replays the clips on his phone one last time, making sure he properly understood the instruction, before he moves to copy it.

A short trip to the hardware store later, he’s back in your apartment, sat awkwardly on your windowpane as he finishes up replacing the lower piece of glass. He’d made sure the piece he’d bought was hardy, and unlikely to cause you future problems. He can’t imagine how cold it would have gotten in your place with a broken window, and tries not to scowl.

You linger nearby, having put your groceries away and offered him coffee, you now sit on your couch pretending that you weren’t watching him.

He doesn’t blame you for eyeing him just as nervously as you had on his first few visits with you. Seeing each other out and about was one thing, but he doesn’t underestimate the amount of trust you were showing in allowing him into your home. Hell, he doesn’t even think he’d be extending such liberties if he were you.

But he’s glad for it, if not only for selfish reasons.

It was easy for Bucky to pretend he didn’t know your status to one another. He’d ignored the little black mark long enough, ignored the urge to seek you out (before he knew you were you) so it really wasn’t that different for him. The only problem, and it wasn’t really a problem just yet, was that Bucky liked you.

He liked your jokes and your sass, he liked the way your expressions spoke louder than your words ever could, and how you didn’t even seem to realise you were making them half the time. He liked that you always seemed to have something interesting to add to a conversation, even on topics he wouldn’t have thought had much interest.

You were smart, and funny and cynical in all the same ways as him, and Bucky liked spending time with you. If he didn’t think it would make you uncomfortable, he’d hang around you a lot more.

Being friends with you was easy, in the same way that being friends with Sam was easy. He didn’t have to hold back certain information, or pretend he was something he wasn’t. You knew everything already, and for some reason, had decided you were okay with him sticking around.

“Do you think you’re going to find your soulmate?”

The question nearly makes him jump, as if you’d been looking right into his thoughts.

Bucky stops what he’s doing briefly and looks up at you. Your lips are pursed and your eyes move from his exposed wrist to his face. He coaches his face into what he might consider normal if the situation were different, and hums.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He clears his throat, and watches you shift your position on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you.

“I don’t know. It’s not really something I have to consider, so I guess I was just thinking about our situations… How it would feel.” You frown as you speak, and Bucky already knows you’re unsatisfied with how you’d answered. He stops completely and faces you, giving you his full attention.

“What do you mean?” He prompts. You think for a moment.

“I guess I just don’t know if I would.” You state, still frowning, though this time for an entirely different reason. Bucky feels something in his chest tighten.

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the most normal person in the world… and I know your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect half, but there’s still choice involved, right? Not everyone chooses to be with their soulmate in the end…” Your eyes turn down to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

“I’m just not sure they’d want me.”

Bucky’s stomach drops at your confession, something an awful lot like hurt shooting through him.

He wants to hurry and reassure you that you were wrong, that you didn’t have to worry, but he stops himself.

He reminds himself that your fears were his own, only he knew for a fact the answer.

“I don’t think you should spend your time worrying about that.” He says carefully. You stop fidgeting and look up at him. He swallows thickly.

“Your soulmate will want you, regardless of if you’re the most normal person in the world or not. And if they’re worried about your past, or the way it affects you now, then they probably don’t deserve you anyway.”

Bucky shrugs, and tears his eyes from yours to continue in his task, but stays fully aware that your gaze remains trained on him.

“If you found them, I’m sure they would want you.” He adds, almost anxiously, his mind buzzing with a million thoughts.

From the couch, you let out a short laugh, the tension in the room lifting a little. He spares a glance at you, unable to to stop the smile that creeps onto his face at the sight of your own.

“What?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Just never took the Winter Soldier for a romantic.” You tease, making him roll his eyes.

Bucky puts the last touches on your new and improved window and takes a step back.

“Would it shock you to learn HYDRA didn’t count it as a useful skill?”

If you like and enjoy, a comment or a reblog would be greatly appreciated!

[honney-boy]

Risky Business & Special Swims

John B Routledge x Reader

Words: 1k+

Warnings: shenanigans, summer night fun, skinny dipping, hints of nude and nakedness, a very small hint of lacking confidence in body image (if you don’t squint you’ll miss it)

Request: yes

can i request (from ur prompt list #1) “Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry” and “If we get caught I’m blaming you” for John b!!! I guess those would prob be two diff imagines or if u wanna choose one :)

A/N: So I split this request into two, the other part of it will be up soon! This was suppose to be a blurb but I don’t know how to write blurbs correctly; I’m incapable of keeping more works under 200 words. I love details :) I am writing a lot more of John B so, send in some request for him; don’t be afraid to send some in for the others too!

For: Anon From:@honney-boy​

if you want to be tagged in any of my work, send me an ask or message me! taglist is at the bottom of the fic :) request are open!

 masterlist | obx masterlist | taglist

You don't know whose idea it started as, but now, it became a reality. You and the pogues decided to spend the night hanging out at the Chateau, nothing new, nothing different from the normal. The summer's night wasn't too bad; the humidity took a break tonight, and a nice breeze blew through the spaces between the trees and the things in the backyard. Pope started a bonfire–JJ and Kiara joined him and sat around it. You decided you would spend some time in the hammock, maybe use your reading light and finish the latest chapter of your book.

That was the plan, but John B had another. Instead of going back to the fire with the others after running inside for a second, he made his way over to the hammock and pushed you, making you sway back and forth. For a minute, you could ignore him, but then you began to swing higher, and the force freaked you out.

"Quit it," you hissed at him, poking your head up to send him a glare, but with where the hammock was, there wasn't much light, and the fire was a little ways away but still left a light orangish glow against your face. Though he couldn't see much of your face, he was able to make out some features, and he couldn't tell if you were glaring or pouting at him. Either way, a smile still stretched on his face, and you didn't need much light to know he was smiling; you could feel it.

John B slowed the hammock down but left it with a light sway that has you still moving. "What?"

"You know what," you began to wiggle around to try and get out, but that didn't help you. Your wiggling made it move more, making John B let out a soft laugh. "Please help me stop this and get out." There was a slight whine in your voice, and now you were pouting. He helped you out–stopping it and letting you out with ease and pulling you into his arms in the process. "You don't get a hug for me, mm mm. Nope."

He wrapped his arms around you, trapping you, but you still tried to escape. He squeezed you tighter, keeping you from wiggling away as he hugged you. The boy buried his head in your neck, chuckling at your childishness. "I'm getting one from you now,"

"Only because you're forcing me–get off me, loser." You try wiggling from his grasp again, but eventually, give up because you weren't getting out of it. 

Kissing your neck twice, John B mumbles against your "I'm not a loser," you run your fingers through his long locks, and finally accepting his hug by wrapping your own around him–he hummed in appreciation. You kissed him against his cheek, and he mumbled something incoherent into your neck. 

You giggled, "I can't understand, you bubs," you tug at his locks to pull his head back, finally scanning his features up close. It was almost too dark to see, but the light from the porch and the light illuminating from the fire gave you enough to make out something. But you've studied his features many times, more than you could count. All you needed was to run your fingers softly against his face, and your mind takes over with the image of him - beautiful inside and out, you’d say.

"I said, do you want to go for a swim. A special swim?" John B asks.

"A special swim?” you ask with a raised brow.

"Well, it's like a normal swim, but instead…" he trailed off, and you thought he would leave you hanging; his words were already intriguing you. He began to walk backward blindly–you could only imagine how that would turn out. But then he turned around and led you over to the dock. "...we swim naked." He finished saying over his shoulder so you could hear him better. 

"You wanna go skinny dipping?" With a nod of his head, you got your answer. You looked over your shoulder at your friends laughing around the fire. They weren't close enough to know what was going on, but they could make a fair assumption. When you turned back to your boyfriend, John B had already taken off his button-down, thumbs hooked on the waistline of his shorts, ready for the outrageous thing you guys were about to do. "Our friends are literally right over there, John B."

"They're a good distance away. It's dark, and they can't see us over here well. Come on, it'll be fun," The boy was now in front of you, hands young your waist pulling you closer to him. The only thing keeping you guys from being skin to skin and also from shoulders deep in the water was your layers of clothing and hesitation. 

It's not that you were scared to skinny dip or that you've never done it– you have. It's been a few years, but you have. The thought of being caught vulnerable in front of your friends made your stomach turn; you weren't the fondest of your body. Although Kiara and you both have seen each other at most half-naked during a few sleepovers where you tried on different clothes or countless times you guys got ready together. John B is about the only person who has seen you–besides your parents, but you were a babe then–and if he were comfortable and reckless about it, you would suck it up. You'd find some courage you have hiding in you and be reckless; live a little. 

After some thought, you give in. "Fine, let's go skinny dipping. If we get caught, I’m blaming you." You say, and John B punches the air and suddenly gets filled with more adrenaline. 

"Whatever, fine, blame me. I don't care. But hurry up and get naked," John B reaches for his shorts, and you turn around to start stripping yourself. 

"Sheesh, at least take me to dinner first," you teased, and you heard him chuckle behind you. A few seconds later, you hear the water splash signifying he got into the water. After taking off your swimsuit, you walk over to the dock's edge, already regretting your decision, but it's supposed to be fun, and the risk of getting caught makes it more exciting. 

➣ End Note:

Enjoy :)

Taglist: @ifilwtmfc​

[If you want to be added to the taglist add yourself here! If you no longer want to be on it let me know. :) ]

[daydreamingsora-fics]

omg can u do a part 2 for “what just happened” i really loved it its so diff from other manager fics

What I only want

◣ sora’s memo ◥  HEY~~ it’s been a while now, sorry for not posting so long. I’m still adjusting with my new schedule in school and college sucks jdeouwhd. I will try to post more blogs if I really can, there’s a lot of stories/ headcanons save in drafts so stay tune with it hNg. Anyways I hope y’all enjoy this imagine. Stay safe sunshines!! and take care <<33

Here’s pt.1

After the incident in the gym, the tension between you and osamu got even thicker, and it became more obvious than before which made the other members more curious about what happened between you and Osamu in the past. The other members, like Akagi, ask Atsumu about your past with Osamu but just like before, the second-year setter will just shrug it off saying he didn’t know. Meanwhile, Kita as the captain of the team, asked Osamu, however Osamu just shook it off and told the captain that there’s nothing wrong and the two of you just had a misunderstanding that time. Of course, he didn’t believe that but he didn’t push the boy to say something as he knew that one day Osamu will admit it to him.

It's lunch time and you’re eating lunch with Atsumu at the gazebo, where the two of you along with Suna and Osamu mostly have lunch before. Today is just an ordinary day, where your teachers give you overloaded school works to do at home, teachers giving you overloaded information making you and the whole class loses brain cells.

“Say, Y/n, is there really no chance for you and Osamu to make up and go back as friend?” Atsumu asked you again. This is the first time, after the incident that incident happened last 3 days, he asked you about making up with Osamu. You rolled your eyes when you heard that question again and drank your water before answering the fake blonde boy.

“Why are you keep on asking me about that? Aren’t you like tired of asking that question?” you asked feeling irritated with his question. Atsumu sighed, feeling unsatisfied with your answer but he already expected that from you as the person who has a high ego.

“Well, I want you and my brother, who I argued with a lot, to see happy again even as friends” He answered you like he is stating the very obvious answer to your question.

“Well then I am sorry but that would never ever happen” you answered back and let out a ‘hmmph’ at the end of your sentence.

“why? Why do you think it would never happen?” he questioned you or more like challenging you to state a very valid reason of why you and Osamu could never be friends again. You glared at Atsumu as you feel again the emotions you are trying to hold for almost a year now, rising up and your heart starting to ache as you recall the ugly-messed-up break up with his twin brother.

“You wanna know why huh?” you nagged at him as you put your chin up to him.

“Yeah tell me why, why did you and Osamu will never go back like friends again!?” he copied your actions as he provokes you to tell him your reasonings about your broken friendship with Osamu.

While the two of you are busy provoking each other, Suna and Osamu entered school yard to spare some time before the afternoon class start but the noise that you and Atsumu were making caught their attention. The two of them stopped walking and look at the two of you, who looks like having an on going argument to each other.

“Why? y/n? tell me, stop bluffing around” Atsumu provoked you and this time, all your emotions that had been kept inside since before burst out which caught his attention off.

“because I am still hurt from what happened before!” your blurted out, heads lowering and tears started streaming down from your eyes. Atsumu was shocked to see you crying, especially the two audience at the back, Osamu and Suna.

Osamu started to feel uncomfortable as soon as he saw you started crying, that’s why he made his way to exit of the school yard but Suna stopped him and dragged him at the gazebo that is placed behind yours and atsumu’s. The gray headed boy glared at the raven-haired boy but Suna just gave him this ‘we will stay and listen to their conversation’- look.

“y/n-“ Atsumu was about to say something but you interrupted.

“It still hurts because our break-up is too sudden. We were happy earlier those days but why with the sudden break-up?” You cried as you tried to wipe the tears that continuously fall down like a water falls. Atsumu remained seated beside you as his gaze you with empathy while the two behind listening were shocked, mostly it’s Suna. Osamu’s gazed shifted from you and Atsumu’s back to his hands that is resting on the table while Suna is looking at his friend with one eyebrow raised as heard the new information.

“what it even more hurt is that he didn’t gave any reason why he wanted to break up with me, he just said that he needs to focus in his study and volleyball which it doesn’t make no sense!” you continued as you looked up to your ex-boyfriend’s twin, who’s silently listening to you.

“It doesn’t make sense ⏤ my insecurities went back; a lot of unanswered question runs inside of my mind. What happened to us? Isn’t he happy anymore with me?” you ranted as you tried to seek for answer to those questions.

“Y/n, he is happy with you, I could tell-“ Atsumu tried comforting you but you just shook your head.

“then why he left me? Am I only convenient when we were in middle school, and now we are in high school he suddenly realizes that I am useless after all because he met other people?!” you complained as your tears falls down non-stop. It’s now Atsumu’s turn to shake his head as a sign of disagreement with your statement, but he could say a word as he too doesn’t know why his twin brother did that you.

“did he find someone new?! Did he found someone that’s better than me; that’s prettier than me?” you let all the questions running inside your mind out but none of this are answerable by Atsumu and he wished he could give answers to stop you from hurting anymore.

“You know what, it’s actually fine if he said that there’s someone knew, that would be hurt less because we can’t stop that, we are still young but…” you wiped your tears but they kept on falling and you lowered your head again as you feel embarrass crying but you can’t hold the pain that you’re feeling anymore.

“he didn’t said a thing, he just left me up hanging with these unanswered questions then watch me fall as I crashed down the asphalt” you slowly begun to calm down but tears won’t from falling, you bit your lips as remained silent for a while and wishes to stop the you’re feeling and to find the answers for the questions that kept you from holding something that would never come back again. Atsumu looks you with pity, he want to go to his twin brother and gave him a sweet punch on his face for causing the girl that they or maybe he cherish.

“All I want is just answers. That’s all I want, Atsumu, is that even hard to give” you yearned as you looked at the boy sitting in front of you. Atsumu’s heart ached as he saw his best friend so broken, so he reached out to you and pulled you into a tight hug. With his action, you can’t help but to cry again, you just want to let all the pain out even just for now. You cried in Atsumu’s arms while he caresses your hair to comfort you.

Meanwhile, the audience behind you and Atsumu have heard everything. Suna was in fact, shocked with this revelation, he understands now why you give Osamu a cold shoulder but what he didn’t understand is why did he broke up with you. He looks at his friend who’s sitting right in front him that’s obviously avoiding his gaze. But Osamu felt the gaze so he looked at Suna with his one eyebrow quirked up.

“What?” he asked which made Suna shook his head.

“you’ve got a lot of explaining to do”

[takerfoxx]

Here, have some more of the WN girls watch The Rebellion Story, this time stretching from Moemura turning back into classic Homura while monologuing to herself to when she shoots herself in the head!

Yes, this is the one with the gunfight.

Reminder:

G=Gretchen

H=Homulilly

Op=Ophelia

Ok=Oktavia

Ca=Candeloro/Mami

Ch=Charlotte

...

Op: Dramatic transformation!

H: All I did was take off my glasses and ribbons.

Op: And you did so dramatically! Complete with a slo-mo hair flick while framed by the full moon!

Ch: Which is apparently about to crash into the city, given how close it is.

Ok: “This is a witch’s labyrinth.” Gee, yah think?!

…

Ok: Okay, where exactly are you headed?

H: Deep into the bowels of the earth, apparently.

Op: Quick! To the Homu-Cave!

G: So, uh, can you see all those windows with the witches, or…?

H: Probably not. It probably still looks normal to me.

Op: Now that just sucks! If you’re going to monologue dramatically you at least ought to be able to appreciate the accompanying visuals!

Ch: “Previously, on Homura Magica…”

G: We probably should have watched the show first. Maybe then all of this would make sense.

Ch: I sincerely doubt it.

…

Ch: Why do all of my scenes have me looking like some brand of idiot?

Ok: Have you seen yourself whenever you get within sniffing distance of a piece of mozzarella? If anything, the doll you is way more composed!

Ch: Oh, so I stick teacups on top of my head, is that what you’re saying?

Op: No, usually you smash them and anything else that’s between you and that sweet, sweet cheesy goodness.

…

Ok: Oh, exposition!

Ch: About my idiot counterpart. I really hope I am the villain and this is all some kind of clever ruse, because otherwise, my God.

G: This is really cute, though. And at least you two are close in this universe too!

Ch: I’m basically a pet.

Ca: Well, if I must have a pet, I’m glad that it’s you.

Ch: Woof-woof.

=from outside, Cheese starts screeching=

Che: Bitch-ass cayennnnnne!

Ca: Whoops. He heard.

…

Ch: …Candy? Are you okay?

Ca: I’m…fine. Just memories.

G: You mean it was really like that?

Ca: Well, Charlotte obviously wasn’t a doll, we weren’t trapped in a bizarre facsimile of the city, and there were no Nightmares, but yes. It was a lonely time.

Op: Because of me, wasn’t it?

Ca: Ophelia, you had literally just lost your family, and I…wasn’t as sympathetic as I ought to have been. So no. It wasn’t because of you. Besides, we did make up later. Had a long conversation and everything. There were even tears.

Op: Well, that’s good to hear.

Ca: Actually, it was pretty close to how it is in the movie, once everyone had shown up. The five of us spending all our time together. Fighting together, training together, celebrating together, and just being girls together. For me, it was probably the happiest I had ever been.

Ok: Right up until my love life went sour.

Ca: Oh, there was so much more to it than just that. Besides, it was all just a temporary thing, a staving off the inevitable. What we have now might be much less exciting but is so much better.

Op: I dunno. Fighting demonic teddy-bears every night sounds like my idea of a good time.

Ca: We didn’t have teddy-bears, remember?

Op: Well, we should have.

…

Ok: Um…Homulilly?

H: Well, this has gotten interesting.

Op: You know, there are a lot of jokes I could be making about you freezing time right next to your crush, but I won’t.

H: Thank you.

G: I don’t get it...Actually, I do. Never mind.

Ok: Shoot the rat! He’s right there!

Ch: Oh, no. She’s going after me. Huh.

H: Huh indeed.

=Charlotte and Homulilly shoot each other an odd look=

Op: So…are we gonna get Homulilly vs. Charlotte?

H: More of Homura vs. Bebe, it seems.

Ch: So…I am the villain.

Op: If you’re lucky, you’ll get an overly dramatic and campy solo number, complete with a pipe organ!

…

G: This is getting a little hard to watch.

Ch: It’s not me.

G: It kind ofis.

H: Charlotte, I would like to take this moment to say that you are a dear friend of mine, and the actions of my counterpart do not reflect my feelings.

Ch: Thanks. Same.

=pause=

Ch: Though could your other self please stop choking me? It is getting kind of weird.

…

Op: Okay, that cinches it! Homura can definitely see the weird!

Ok: How do you figure?

Op: The fact that she’s leaping from dessert tray on a stick to dessert tray on a stick! Why would she be doing that unless she could see them?

Ok: I don’t know. Maybe they just look like telephone poles to her.

H: No, the illusion has clearly dropped, at least for me.

Ch: I’m about to get executed and that’s what you choose to focus on?

Op: For all you know you’re about to snap and bite Homura’s head off.

Ch: I…seriously doubt that. I mean, she is kind of the main character.

Ok: Though hey, wouldn’t that be such a wicked twist? To build up someone as a super-important character only to kill them off like a quarter of the way through?

=Candeloro frowns, a puzzled look on her face=

…

Op: Erm…

H: Well, this is certainly condescending.

Ca: It’s not inaccurate, though. I did struggle with many doubts and insecurities, and often found it difficult to put on a brave face.

Ch: That’s just called being human, babe.

Op: Most humans never went through what we went through.

Ca: That’s also true. Like I said, Homura isn’t wrong. I often felt like I was on the edge of cracking. There was more than one time when one of you would get hurt during a fight, and I would make a big show of being calm and unbothered. I’d encourage you and maybe lightly scold you for letting your guard down, and when you were all healed up I’d reassure everyone that I knew everything would be fine and try my best to carry on as normal. And then, when everyone was gone, I’d spend the rest of the night crying. You were right to assume I would react badly if you accused my close companion of being some kind of nefarious villain.

=long, uncomfortable pause=

H: Maybe so, but I think that my other self here wasn’t in the habit of giving people the benefit of the doubt. I think that her frequent failures might cause her to assume the worst of everyone, and act accordingly. I don’t think that she is giving you a fair shake.

Ca: That’s sweet of you to say so, Homulilly. But realistically speaking, she had reason not to trust me with this information.

…

Ch: Yeesh.

H: It’s okay. You can say it.

Ch: Say what?

H: That this alternate version of myself is kind of…shall we say…

Ok: Incredibly terrifying?

H: Just a little psychotic, yes.

G: Well, I mean, considering what she went through. You were lucky to stop after four loops. How many times did she have to relive my death over and over?

Ch: Still doesn’t make watching me get shoved up against a wall and the life choked out of me any more fun to watch.

…

Ch: Hold up!

Op: Well, hey! Wife to the rescue!

Ca: But…how…?

G: Oh. That is…a long ribbon.

Op: Did you have that attached to her foot the whole time?

Ca: I mean, I guess…

Ok: How did she even know you were up to something?

Ca: Intuition, I suppose. Maybe the lack of glasses and the new hairstyle tipped me off?

Ok: Why would that-

Ca: I don’t know, I’m just throwing guesses out.

H: Well, consider me impressed. Clearly, this other me underestimated you.

Ca: Thank you.

Ch: OKAY! If having my stupid doll face on every billboard in town doesn’t tip you off, then nothing will!

G: Homura’s probably the only one that can see it like that. Mami probably just sees a shoe advertisement or something.

Ch: You know what? That’s actually kind of a relief.

…

Ok: Oh, shit!

Ch: Could you stop trying to kill me? Please?

H: Believe me, if I could stop me, I would.

Op, suddenly sitting up straighter: Hold on, is this going where I think it’s going?

Ok: I think it is! I think it is!

Ca: Oh, here we go.

G: What?

Ok: Homura and Mami are going to fight!

G: Oh. Oh!

H: Candeloro, just like I said with Charlotte, the actions and beliefs of this alternate self of mine-

Ca: Homulilly, relax. It’s fine. These other versions of ourselves took different paths than we did. I don’t hold any of this against you.

H: Likewise.

Ca: Good.

=pause=

Op: Fifty talents on Mami.

Ch: Oh, good Lord.

Ok: You’re on! Time stop, Fee! That’s so overpowered!

Op: Which our girl neutralized without Little Miss Sleuth even knowing.

H: Is this really-

Op: Plus Mami’s the veteran fighter, remember? The tanky heavy?

Ok: Uh, Homura’s got multiple timeloops of experience, okay. That trumps Mami’s couple of years.

Ca: It was more like three…

G: I’m in! I’m betting on Lilly!

H: On Homura. I’m not fighting anyone.

Ok: Same diff! You better win, though. We’ve got money riding on this.

Ch: Well, I’m joining Fee and betting on Mami. I think you’ll find her more of a handful than you’re bargaining for.

Ca: Out of all the childish-

Ch: Buck up! You’ve got fifty talents to win me!

=Homulilly extends her hand across the couch=

H: Hey. May the best fighter win.

=pause, then Candeloro sighs and shakes her hand=

Ca: Oh, why not. You’re on!

…

Ch: Well, that ribbon ain’t going nowhere. Time stop, still neutralized.

Op: Ha! What I say?

Ca: My Bebe’s life is in danger. My will is resolute.

Ch: You are not turning Bebe into a pet name.

Ok: Come on, come on. Get with the fighting already!

=long pause as Mami and Homura have their staredown, and then they leap…=

Op: Oh, yeah! Here we go!

…

Op: Holy shit!

Ok: Go! Go!

G: Wow. That is a lot of guns.

…

Ch: Come on, babe. You can do this.

Ok: THIS! IS! SO! FREAKING! COOL!

G: Look at their faces! They still don’t want to hurt each other.

Ch: Oh, come on, doll-me! Get out of there already!

…

Op and Ch: Let’s go, Mami!

Ok and G: Ho-Mu-Ra!

Op: Let’s go, Mami!

Ok and G: Ho-Mu-Ra!

H: This is easily the weirdest thing we’ve ever done.

Ok: Oh, what? The thing with the sea-monster wasn’t weirder?

H: That was just…messy! We’re watching me and Candeloro’s alternate future selves in a fight to the death and you four are treating it like a pro-wrestling event!

Ca: Yeah. And I’m going to win.

=pause=

H: Did I say you could stop chanting?

Ok and G: Ho-Mu-Ra!

…

Op: Downtown is getting fuuuucked uuuup!

Ch: Just wait until she unfreezes time.

G: Jeez, I can’t tell if you’re both terrible shots or just extremely good at dodging!

H: Definitely the second.

Ok: And now we come to the stand-off.

Op: Nowhere to go, barely any room to breathe. Hey, Lilly, is the kinetic force of those bullets maintained?

H: What?

Op: I know they’re stuck in time, but can you just pluck them out of the air, or would you still be damaged by the heat and contained momentum?

H: I…have no idea.

Op: Best not to touch them then.

H: Probably smart.

…

Op: And time starts up…now.

G: Oh, that looks so unsafe.

Ok: Yeah! I mean, sure, if they hold still they won’t get hit with the bullets right next to them. But the freaking air was full of them! What’s keeping a spray of bullets from raining down from above and turning their heads into swiss cheese? Oh, sorry Char.

Ch: Y’know, unlike my moronic counterpart, I can hear the word “cheese” without freaking out.

Op: And that’s not getting into ricochets. They ought to be perforated right now.

Ca: My bullets were magic. They only ricocheted when I wanted them to. Most times they’d either pierce right through or exploded on impact.

Op: Homura’s aren’t.

Ca: True.

…

Ok: So much for your surroundings. Where the hell are you guys anyway?

H: Looks like some kind of cathedral. Only a very…eccentric one.

Ok: City’s getting weirder by the minute.

G: It could be symbolic for something. Like, I don’t know, violence in a place of sanctuary or…something?

Ch: Or gothic architecture just makes for an awesome place to stage an action scene and the animators and directors know it.

Ok: Stop killing the magic!

Op: Though, hell, speaking of which, would they actually die if they got shot? I mean, I know it would hurt, but…

Ca: Hypothetically? No. So long as the soul gem itself was unharmed, any damage would eventually heal.

G: Like we do?

Ca: Er, sort of, but not in the same way. Their bodies are still flesh and blood. Injuries back then tended to be…messy. And healing used up magic, and if those injuries were too great…

Ok: Witch time?

Ca: Bingo.

…

Ch: “Not getting anywhere.” Now there’s the understatement of the year.

G: So who won? Was it a draw?

Ca: So far, but I don’t think it’s over yet.

H: Indeed. I seem to be…up to something.

Op: Okay, if none of those big honkin’ rifles and machine-guns weren’t working, what good is that little peashooter, gonna…hold on!

=Homura puts the gun to her head. Half-a-second of stunned silence, and then everyone starts yelling at once=

G: Oh, no. Oh, no.

Ch: Oh, my God. They are going there.

Op: Okay. OKAY!

Ok: What the hell is she doing?!

Ca: No, no, no, no, no, no, no…

H: What is wrong with you?! Why are you like this?!

=bang=

=collective scream=

[ladyvader23]

The School Play

For @slx99, who inspired me to write this little Dad Vader piece! I also have no idea if walrus’ exist in the Star Wars universe, but THEY DO NOW! 

I also take requests!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vader stared in horror at the announcement slip his children had brought home from preschool. 

Apparently, the children would be putting on a play--or, rather, a presentation, if the description was anything to go by. The school had the children research a topic, and the children would be putting on a dramatic retelling of what they’d learned. It actually sounded terribly boring, but he’d read in that parenting book the children’s pediatrician had given him that supporting their interests, including school activities, helped foster confidence in children. An important quality in the two most important children in the galaxy, even if his presence would terrify everyone else in the room. 

The problem wasn’t the boring play. It was what his son was signed up to be. 

A walrus. 

A walrus. 

Leia had a stormtrooper, which was normal enough. But Luke had a walrus? How in the galaxy had he even had the misfortune of getting such an unfortunate aquatic creature?! 

He looked up at Miss Laena, who’d handed him the announcement slip in the first place. “My son will not play a walrus in front of a crowd of people!” 

The school the children went to was full of senator’s children, as well as other important Imperial figures, such as Grand Moffs, generals, and the like. Vader doubted most of those important figures would actually be at the play; most likely, their partners or nannies would go. But it did not matter. Word would spread fast that the son of Darth Vader had played a walrus. 

“Luke is very excited about the play, my lord.” Miss Laena said carefully. “It’s all he’s been talking about for weeks, now. I even helped him make the costume.” 

His stomach dropped. “There’s a costume?” 

It just got worse and worse. 

“Yes, my lord. I might be able to pull together another one in time, but it will break his heart.” 

Vader gritted his teeth. If this was any other assignment, he’d tell the boy to deal with whatever he chose for him, but he also didn’t need him crying on stage in front of everyone because he was unhappy. 

He would need to convince him. 

“Summon my son. I will speak with him.” 

Miss Laena hurried to do so, and soon the tiny form of his son came running into his office, immediately climbing (uninvited) into his lap. Vader had no change to stop him before his little arms wrapped around his neck with a hug. 

Despite the dire situation, he couldn’t help but melt a little under the embrace. 

“Hi daddy!” Luke said, pulling away after a moment, settling in comfortably on his leg. “Am I in trouble?” 

Perhaps that was the reason for the immediate hug. He would need to discourage such behavior in the future. 

“No, my son.” He reached up and ruffled his hair. “I just wanted to know why you were assigned to be a walrus in this play.” 

Luke brightened. “Oh! I’m going to be a walrus, daddy!” 

“Yes, but why?” Perhaps he hadn’t understood the phrasing of his first question. He struggled to speak on a level the twins would understand, at times. 

“Because I like them.” 

Vader winced. That would make it harder to convince him to change topics. 

“But why?” 

Luke shrugged. “They look funny.” 

And that was precisely why he didn’t want him to play a walrus in the first place. “Why don’t I help you choose something diff--” he cut off as Luke’s expression immediately began to fall, his eyes watering. 

“No, daddy, I wanna be a walrus!” 

Damn. 

Already, just from his presence alone, Vader could tell it would be far more of a fight to force him to choose something else than to just do the walrus. 

“...I will need to have a word with the school. But fine.” 

Immediately the tears were gone, and Luke threw his arms around him again before climbing off and running to find his sister. Vader watched after him, wondering how his children had so thoroughly wrapped him around their fingers, before he pulled up his datapad to send a message to the school principal to order that no footage be allowed at the play. 

If Luke insisted, he could at least make sure the incident was nothing more than a strange, unconfirmed rumor. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night of the play, he’d debated on pretending his schedule was too full to attend. That way, perhaps no one would notice that the son of Darth Vader was dressed as a walrus. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of things to do instead anyway, but every time he thought about not showing up, the imagined disappointment in his children’s faces when they returned home was enough to guilt him into keeping the time reserved for the play. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t show up at the last possible second before they closed the doors for the performance. 

Naturally, the moment he walked in, a hush fell over the crowd of nannies and parents. He made a face when he recognized a few important officials there who were also apparently trying to be good parents despite their schedules. Normally he could respect that, but today of all days, he wished they’d remained at work. 

The principal, a short, portly man, came rushing over not long after he’d found a corner to stand in. “I have issued a strict no recording policy as you wished, Lord Vader.” 

“Good.” Vader crossed his arms, looking over his head to the curtained stage. “Because if there is any recording of my children distributed, I will personally pay you a visit.” 

The man paled, gulped, and nodded. “Understood, my lord.” Then he turned and rushed off. 

Moments later, the lights dimmed, and an announcement was made over a microphone to remind everyone of the very fact that no recording was allowed. He half expected them to use him as an excuse, but they mentioned nothing of the rule being a direct order from him. 

Hm. He might have mentioned it just to make sure, but if he had to dispose of the principal, he would not lose sleep over it. His children barely knew the man and wouldn’t notice if he disappeared. Perhaps he’d do it anyway just for the fact that someone in his staff showed the boy a picture of the infernal animal in the first place. 

Once the announcement was made, the “play” began. Sure enough, it was less of a play and more of various small children of different species in costumes reciting facts about whatever they’d researched for the parents. This was followed up by polite clapping, which he did not participate in. They were not his children, after all. He did not care, and he thought most of them were terribly boring anyway. 

He was also certain that none of these children had actually done their own research. What a complete waste of time and resources. 

But then came Leia. Somehow, Miss Laena had managed to help her construct an almost perfect replica of a stormtrooper armor set, fit perfectly to her petite size. The only thing that he could tell was real was the helmet, which she carried in her arms as more of a prop than anything else. 

When she walked onto the stage...as he suspected she would, she immediately acted as though the entire room was there for her. She squared her shoulders, looking over the audience with as high and mighty of a look that an almost five year old could muster. 

“Stormtroopers are soldiers who help protect the Empire.” She spoke clearly into the microphone. It was...well, as natural as a four year old could get, and a pang went through his chest at the thought of her suddenly looking very much like a mini version of her mother. “They serve over the whole Empire. They can be foot soldiers, or fly TIE fighters, like my daddy does.” 

He wondered if that was something she was supposed to say, or if she said it just because she was proud of what he did for a living. Not that she knew the full extent of that, but...he offered a rare, unseen smile nonetheless. 

“This is a real stormtrooper helmet. My friend let me use it tonight.” Friend? What friend? “Stormtroopers are not like clone troopers. They’re normal people like you and me.” 

He refrained from snorting at that. In his opinion, Clone Troops were far superior, but the Emperor did not seem to care for that opinion. 

“There’s also lots of types of stormtroopers. You can tell what they are because of their uniform. In conclusion, stormtroopers are pretty cool and I like them. They keep us safe, and are friends to all.” 

That...didn’t really make sense. But she was four, and again, probably had her lines written by someone else. Still, when she finished and did a little curtsy, he clapped proudly for the first time the entire show, then watched as she practically skipped off stage. 

Then...it was Luke’s turn. 

It was an experience to have one child give a basic but Imperial pride-supporting speech, then directly afterwards have another child walk out wearing a walrus costume to talk about an animal he’d never even personally seen before. He was sure that anyone who knew Luke was his son probably had a lot of questions he’d never answer right about now. 

But there Luke was, walking out wearing a well made, but monstrosity of a costume. He wore a dark gray, long-sleeved tunic that reached his knees, except that the sleeves ended well past where he knew Luke’s hands to be, and the end was in the shape of walrus flippers. A tail flopped around with each step Luke took, and his head was almost completely engulfed by a walrus-face hood. The face opening was framed by two giant tusks, what he supposed were whiskers, and at the top of the hood, giant eyes that Vader could swear were staring into his soul. 

And underneath, Luke had obviously painted his face. Probably the same color as the tunic. 

Half of Vader wanted to have the ground open up and swallow him whole. The other half was admittedly impressed with the lengths his son had put his nanny up to in making this costume. He was also dead certain that if Luke looked back on this costume as an adult, he’d be embarrassed beyond all reason. 

“Walruses are water animals who live on water worlds like Mon Cala.” Luke began, just as confidently as Leia. It was also obvious he was very proud of the whole thing; he was bouncing a bit in excitement, causing the tail to flop around constantly. Nearby, Vader heard a few parents coo adoringly at the display. 

He wondered if it would be noticeable if he used the Force to hold his son in place. 

“They can dive deep in the water, but they like to stay near land. They are really, really fat. Also, both the girls and the boy walruses have tusks, like this!” He reached up and tugged on the tusks, earning chuckles from the crowd. 

Well. Both of his children definitely liked to use visual aids. It was interesting to know, at least. 

“They also live for a super long time. Forty years!” Luke lifted his flipper-hands up in excitement. “They also can live in the cold because they’re fat. They like to eat fish. And they make these really funny noises, like--” then Luke proceeded to demonstrate, and more laughter erupted around the room. 

As well as Luke was doing, Vader couldn’t help but curse whoever had even shown the cursed animal to his son. He would definitely be finding a replacement for the principal after he was through with him. 

What had he done to encourage such a fascination with the animal? He was from the desert, so this had to be something from his mother’s side of the family, he was sure of it. 

But Luke seemed pleased by the audience’s reaction. He himself would have to ensure this incident never left this room, but at least his son was happy. 

“So yeah, I like walruses. They’re funny looking, and that’s why I chose to tell you about them.” Then, with that said, Luke made a bow, and the audience erupted in far more clapping than had been heard the entire night. Luke straightened, grinned, then ran off stage, his tail and flippers flapping wildly behind him. 

Well. It was certainly the most interesting part of the night, he thought as he clapped for his son. And despite being a walrus, his son was perfect. Just...had some odd interests that he sincerely hoped he grew out of. 

When the show ended, Vader waited uncomfortably by the doors for his children. Plenty of parents and their costumed kids walked by, all giving him a wide berth. He ignored them all, scanning the crowd for his children. He could sense them coming, but for whatever reason, they kept stopping. 

Finally, he saw the small figures of Luke and Leia pushing their way through their crowd, beaming smiles on their faces when they saw him. 

“Daddy!” Leia crowed, and he quickly reached out to place his hands on their shoulders before they could try to hug him. He had grown used to their hugs in private, but they were still learning that it was not permitted in public. “Did you like my play?” 

“You did well.” He confirmed, patting her head, which caused her to make a face and pull away. 

“Don’t mess up my hair.” She muttered. 

Luke had pulled the hood down and his painted face looked up at him. “What about mine, daddy? Lots of people told me they liked it.” He paused, frowning. “Did you?” 

Vader paused, deciding how to phrase it. He did not like that he was parading around in a ridiculous walrus costume, but the whole point of him coming to this ridiculous excuse for a play was to support his children and build their confidence. He could not ruin it by telling his son that he hated the animal he was portraying. “You played your performance well, my son. I am proud of you both.” 

Yes. That seemed safe. And to his satisfaction, the twins beamed up at him. But the moment was ruined when Luke asked, “Can we go to Mon Cala to see the walruses?” 

“Yeah! Let’s go, daddy!” Leia added. 

He paused for a few breaths of the respirator. “Mon Cala...is not safe for humans.” 

Luke frowned. “But my friend said he went, and--” 

“Why don’t I take you to a zoo, instead?” Then maybe Luke would see a different, less embarrassing animal to portray next time. Or maybe he’d lose interest in animals completely. 

Luke considered for a moment, then nodded. “Okay daddy.” He paused. “Can I be a walrus for Trick Or Treat?” 

Again, he paused, trying to come up with an answer that would not hurt his son’s feelings. “Why don’t you wait until after we go to the zoo?” 

Luke also seemed to accept this answer, and Vader took his children's hands in his own, and led them from the theater. 

Vader made sure to give pointed glares at anyone who dared look their way.

[bitchiha]

A/N: So I wrote this instead of doing any of my psych assignments which is fine by me. Im a little bit rusty with one shots bc the last one I did was a Harry Potter angst with Draco and that was on a diff blog a few months back. Any who, enjoy and thank you for requesting!!

Request:  I would like to order a Gaara x Reader where Gaara and Reader are dating, but she is a Leaf Shinobi, and she she is always very talkative and smiling, but one day she is serious and quiet, and he is worried, but finds out that she is only concerned with something kind of silly, and then he is relieved and realizes that he really loves her.

✎ Worry (Gaara oneshot)

You didn’t get to see your boyfriend all that often, being that you were a Leaf ninja, constantly on missions and he was a Kazekage, constantly protecting his village. However, whenever you did reunite it was always memorable. In fact, Gaara would be lying if he didn't count down the days to your arrival. 

He always looked forward to seeing you. He would stand at the gate of his village, waiting for your body to slowly become visible through the winds of the blowing sand. He loved the face you would make when you finally discerned his shape in the distance: your eyes would brighten and a smile would spread rapidly across your face. Even if the journey was long, seeing him waiting there always gave you a burst of energy. You would then squint your eyes to shield them from the sand and run the rest of the distance towards him. 

However, when Gaara spotted your figure in the distance today, you seemed a little tense. In fact, when you spotted him you didn't make that signature facial expression he loved so much or even start running towards him.

Something was off.

He watched you carefully as you got closer and frowned. He lacked a lot of emotional experience with others, but there was no denying that you looked worried.

Seeing you like that made him panic a little bit. Again, Gaara has never been very good with emotions - if anything he relied on you to be the one to help him navigate peoples feelings. So seeing you in such a worried state made him really, well... worried. He didn’t know what to do.

Once you finally arrived face to face at the gate you greeted him with a small smile and he guided you into the village. He gave you a little perplexed look in return before weeding the two of you out of the way of villagers and back towards his apartment.

I should say something, he thought to himself almost awkwardly, but he just didn’t know what. 

Normally you would have started a conversation with him and he would have listened carefully, not saying much himself as he preferred hearing your voice as opposed to his own. However, you didn't seem in the mood to do that today, meaning it was his turn to pick up the slack. 

“Erm- Temari and Kankuro will be happy to see you. Kankuro has been working on a new puppet and he has been dying to show everyone in the village how good it is.” 

You laughed at that, which made his heart warm a bit, but he couldn't help but sense a possible hint of distractedness in your tone. You were gnawing at your nails too - he picked up that it was your nervous habit -  which made him fall back into silence again. 

What am I supposed to say? What do people do in these situations? 

Gaara lead you up to his apartment, knowing that you were tired and usually fell asleep upon arriving at the village.

Typically after you woke up from a nap you two would eat dinner together and then you would really start to catch up on things. You would talk about eventful things that happened on your missions and he would talk about Kank and Temari or some of his own eventful occurrences as the Kazekage in return.

Your naps usually lasted pretty long after your 3 day journey. That would give Gaara just enough time to drop by Temari’s and see if she could assist him with how to deal with this whole situation. She was always the one he fell back on for relationship advice. Deeming Kankuro useless in this field, as he talked more to puppets than to actual human beings.

He opens the door for you upon arriving and remains at the enterance, when you realize he isn’t coming side with you, you turned to look at him. You stared at each other from your respective points in the apartment: him at the door and you just outside his bedroom. 

“Gaara?.. Aren't you coming inside?” 

“...No, I need to, uhm, finish some paperwork. In the meantime you should really take a nap. I’ll be back by the time you wake up.” He said awkardly as he closed the door.

With that, he left you to sleep as he paid his sister a visit, asking her for some needed advice.

Temari was surprised at the visit, it was always very rare for Gaara to ask her for this kind of advice anyway, let alone for him to have a worried look on his face too.

When she lets him inside, he recalls the events that have transpired so far, sitting across from eachother at Temaris dinner table. There was a guide book on Shogi sitting atop the table, which Gaara knew she was reading just to impress a certain Leaf ninja. Anyway, when she caught him staring at it she batted it away embarrassedly and cleared her throat, her face growing hot. There was a moment of silence in the room as she thought about what Gaara had told her. 

“Hm... Well, did you ask her whats wrong?”

“...No.” He realized that would have been an important piece of information to ask.

“Gaara!“

Temari shook her head, but then proceeded to give him a simple rundown of what to do. 

Step one: ask whats wrong

Step two: ask how you can make her feel better 

It seemed so simple when Temari said it, honestly he felt a little embarrassed that he couldn't manage to think of it on his own. He wasnt going to waste anymore time now that he knew what to do though.

As he was leaving Temaris apartment she smiled at him.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that...”

“Oh, its nothing...” she giggled. “Well actually Gaara, you know, going out of your way like this is something people normally do when they care about someone.” Then she closed the door with a cheeky grin, leaving Gaara to blush at the face of a wooden door. 

On his way back to the apartment he thought about what Temari said, going out of your way like this is something people normally do when they care about someone... Of course in his head he always knew he really cared about y/n, but having someone else notice it too really made him stop and think. 

He remembered when he fought Naruto back when the sound village attacked the Leaf. Naruto had opened Gaaras eyes to a lot of important things. He had shown him that you needed to have people important in your life. People that you would fight for and even die for... And for the first time, Gaara realized that y/n ticked all those boxes.

As he arrived back at his apartment, he opened the door quietly, not wanting to wake you up. He could hear your gentle snores as he made his way to your bedroom, holding a medium sized box in his hands.

After leaving Temari’s he had wandered the village a bit, thinking over a few things and clearing his mind, he had passed by your favourite dessert place in his village and figured that it would be a good gesture if he got you something. Afterall, Temari was always so happy when got sweets from anyone.

He opened the bedroom door carefully only to see you curled up on his bed sleeping. It made his heart feel all funny when he seen you sleeping. You looked so calm and fragile. He couldn't really admire it for all that long though because His presence must have alerted you. He watched your eyes open groggily as you sat up.

“Gaara? Is that you?” you asked, letting out a yawn. 

“Yes. I uhm... I got you something.” he placed the white box on the bed next to you. 

 You opened the lid curiously, to reveal your favourite dessert staring back at you. It made you smile widely, as if nothing was wrong in the first place, but in a few seconds the worry crawled back onto your face. This time though, Gaara didn't get discouraged. 

“Something has been bothering you since you got here, y/n. I want to help you, but I can't if you don't tell me whats wrong.”

It was strange seeing him so forward with feelings, but you liked it. In fact it made you feel relieved that you could tell him about your predicament.

“I guess you're right... Well, you see I guess its kind of... A bit silly but I got you a gift a while back. It was so pretty... You see, it was this necklace I found in a village I was passing through for a mission, it was this red gem wrapped around a sort of turquoise wire and it made me think of you instantly. So, I bought it and I was so excited to give it to you I kept taking it out of my backpack to look at it on my way here. Then when I woke up this morning and checked out of the Inn I stayed in, I went to look at it one more time before I arrived and it was gone!” you sighed, falling back onto the pillows. 

“It would have looked perfect on you, Gaara. I just wanted to give you something special for you to remember me by for when Im not visiting. I don't know I guess its kind of a stupid thing to be upset about, but I just can't help it.” You covered your face with your hands. 

There was a dip in the bed and you felt Gaara lay down beside you, causing you to peek at him through your fingers.

He was relieved to say the least, in fact he may have even been smiling a little bit. This was all she was worried about? It wasn’t about anything that he had done, it was just about a necklace!

“Thats all that was worrying you?” He asked as he looked at you with an almost soft expression, he gently removed your hands from your face. 

“You know, y/n, I’m sure the necklace would have been nice, but all that really matters to me is that you're here now and we can spend some time together.” 

He thought about what you said: I just wanted to give you something special for you to remember me by for when Im not visiting. 

“And you don't need to give me anything to remind me of you while you're away because I think about you all the time when you're not here with me.” He blushed a little bit after he said it, but refused to get all shy about it. 

When you heard that, a big smile appeared on your face, the same one that he always saw when you ran towards him at the villages gates. It was a huge relief to see you like this again, it felt as though there was a crack of sunshine in the middle of a storm of dark clouds. He could see the worry and frustration in your face slipping away slowly. 

It made him feel happy, to be able to make you feel better again. He really did care about you.

“Come on then, eat your dessert and then we’ll go see Kankuro. Like I said earlier, he wants to show you his new puppet.” 

[for-ests]

Hey, not sure if you do smut but I think this request can work without a lot if you’d prefer😁 reader’s an art student and needs to sculpt a full body nude sculpture and Tom offers but gets a bit cheeky

thanks for the request dear! this was fun to write :-) i literally know nothing about art so if I get something wrong just ignore! i hope you enjoy!! i went a diff +route but I still think it fits! [ mlist ] 

Word count: 3, 273

Warnings: slight nsfw,, nudity 

Pairing: Tom Holland x art student reader!

“The issue is… I have no idea who to ask.” You sighed deeply, embarrassment washing over you as you talked to your best friends about your upcoming project. 

Everyone knew you were a talented sculptor. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that your professional sculpting internship at (your school) was currently learning about Ancient Greece. One of the requirements to pass the semester was to recreate a modern sculpture of someone you knew, and to make it as realistic as possible. Nakedness and all, which was a huge distinction of Greek statues.

There was a big problem though. You were incredibly shy, and you didn’t know who to ask to model for you.

Nudging you with a laugh, your friend flashed you a mischievous smile. “You know a lot of cute guys, why don’t you ask one of them?”

“Cute guys?” You scrunched your nose. “I know like three guys and I would cry if I had to see them naked.”

She sighed. “Fair. Does it have to be a guy?”

*-You nodded regretfully. “It has to be the opposite sex. It’s annoying but I u

erstand why. It’s important to be familiar with both sexes.”

Your best friend air quoted ‘familiar’ with a ridiculous smirk.

“Shut up.” You huffed, trying not to laugh at how dramatic she had become.

“I think I know a guy, he’s an aspiring actor and model.” Your best friend added casually.

Groaning, you shot her a glare. “Why didn’t you say that right away?”

She shrugged. “I like listening to you talk about your art.”

Her compliment almost worked, but you already knew that was partly the reason she was teasing you so hard. The other reason was because she had been trying to set you up with multiple friends for months. According to her, you had been single for far too long.

Her offer made you ponder deeper about your situation. You were slightly awkward when it came to getting to know someone, but you couldn’t imagine asking someone to strip right away so you could sculpt every curve your eyes grazed over. Whoever it ended up being had to be incredibly confident. Shallow yes, but that’s why you were hoping to find someone insanely attractive. Attractive people were usually confident, and responsibly so. “Maybe a stranger would be worse than someone I know.”

Snorting through her nose, your best friend stared at you like you were crazy. “Definitely not. If it’s awkward you never have to see him again. And if it’s not, well you can get cozy with a cutie.”

Taking a deep breath, you rolled your eyes. “I hate you sometimes.” You mumbled under your breath. You knew she was right, but you would never inflate her already enormous ego like that.

“You love me.” She sang sweetly.

“I do, now give him my number and tell him it’s of the utmost importance.”

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Days later, that conversation was on your mind as you nervously organized your sculpting tools. Trying to relieve some tension, you slapped a pound of clay against the table, and it echoed throughout the workshop.

Reality was the fact that this so called model boy was on his way to your studio. His name was Tom, and from the pictures you saw–he was incredibly handsome.

You couldn’t believe you had agreed to this, but alas, you needed this experience to pass your class. You just hoped and prayed that Tom was a lot more outgoing than you, and could keep the conversation flowing as you stared intently as his erect… penis.

Your cheeks flared up at the thought. How the hell were you going to do this?

Y/N: help (Y/B/F/N) I cant do this!!! im freaking out

Y/B/F: is he even there yet? lmfao

Y/N: noooooo :((

Y/B/F: if it makes you feel any better, he’s excited and thinks ur pretty

Y/N: why didn’t you tell me that before??!

Y/B/F: do u feel better now tho?

Y/N: no

Y/B/F: ik ur smiling ;) u aint slick

Giggling like a schoolgirl to relieve some of your anxiety, you set your cell phone on the table. Truthfully, your best friend had made you feel better. If anything bad happened, it would surely be a wonderful story to tell everyone in the future.

Your eyes naturally glanced across the room to the clock on the wall. 7:00pm. Tom would be here any minute as scheduled.

You took a deep breath and studied your surroundings. All your tools were in place, and the entire studio was tidied up as if you hadn’t worked the space in weeks. Next, you walked to the wall and glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

With your hair in a bun and your shabby working clothes, you looked suitable at best. You did have a little bit of makeup on to help yourself feel more confident. If you felt good, you could make your client feel good in return.

At least it looked like you didn’t try too hard. You didn’t want this man to get the wrong idea.

Then, snapping you out of your trance, there was a knock on the door.

You straightened out your shirt one last time, and tucked your baby hairs back behind your ears. Scoffing immediately after, you shook your head. Why were you trying to look cute? Who cares!

You rushed to grab the front door, afraid that you were making him wait too long. You flung it open, eyes locking with his right away.

You froze.

He was even more dashing in person.

“Judging by your cute outfit, I think I’m at the right place. Y/N right?”

And a British accent?

“Y-yes!” You flashed a smile to mask your obvious hesitation. You could easily play it off by opening the door and keeping your gaze averted. You were the master of smoothness.

“Thank you for coming, it’s about time I got this project done…” You tittered, locking the door behind him for privacy purposes. “You can set your things on the couch over there.” You pointed, eyes meeting his again when he glanced to the couch and then back to you.

“Awesome.” He nodded, holding your gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” You offered, nodding your head back to the small kitchen in the back of the studio. You wished the studio apartment was yours alone, but you shared it with multiple other college students in your program.

“Water… or beer if you have any?”

You threw your head back in laughter, causing Tom to smile at your genuine reaction.

“Yeah, I can get you one.”

“In the meantime, should I just strip?” He smirked, not trying to be sly with his flirtations. Though your cheeks were dusting with pink, you were able to match his energy. Your best friend definitely set you up with someone she knew you’d like.

“Do whatever you want, love.” You mimicked his British accent. “You’re the guest after all.”

Walking past him, you gave him one last look when he was fully-clothed. Tom was certainly the player type, practically the perfect embodiment of the muse you had in mind. This wouldn’t be awkward for you, and it would be even better for him. Men like him thrived off of cheeky discomfort in their female counterparts.

Yet, truthfully, you were enjoying it as well. It felt nice to be complimented so soon into an introduction.

As you cracked open a can of beer for Tom and yourself, you could hear him shuffling around with his items. The sound of his buckle falling against the floor made you suddenly nervous to turn around.

Inhaling sharply, and gulping down a few more sips of beer, you finally gained the courage to walk back to the studio setup, where Tom had already wandered over to, completely naked.

“You seem to be in your element.” You noted, trying to keep your eyes leveled with his. Now that you were thinking about it, remaining calm and professional was excruciating in front of such an attractive man. And it certainly wasn’t helping that he was enjoying your embarrassment.

And least this was exciting.

Thanking you, Tom took the beer and pressed his lips against the cold aluminum. “I would definitely feel a lot more comfortable if you were naked too, darling.”

“Hey now,” You nose scrunched in a form of mock distaste. The man caught on immediately, holding your gaze with a sort of amusement that was masking desire. “I might think about it if you sit nice and pretty for me for more than five minutes so I can sketch you.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you walked over to your crafting desk. You decided you were going to start with the hardest part, the part which your grade depended heavily on- from the waist down.

But first, you quickly sketched Tom posing in multiple poses until you were satisfied with one. You had him mimic a sculpture you couldn’t recall, where one hand was pointed forward and the other was rested casually on his hip.

“Can I see what one you want to do?” He asked curiously from the stand you had him propped up on for a better view.

“Sure.” You flashed him your finished sketch. The lines darted all over the page, making it hard for him to picture what was going on in your head. The picture you had drawn would not make sense to anyone else but the artist. But apparently you were talented, so he would trust the process.

You were also trusting the process. The situation you were in could only be awkward if you allowed it to be. And so far it was moving along smoothly. You had your favorite music playing softly in the background to fill the silence, and Tom seemed to be relaxed and unbothered by how quietly you worked.

“That’s cool.” Tom whispered, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Giggling from his sudden proximity, you tried to tease him. “It’s fine to not understand it.”

“I definitely don’t know what’s going on but it’s still interesting.” He admitted.

You set the paper back down on the table, and decided to attempt and sculpt the base. Moving past a still naked Tom, you tried to immerse yourself in your work, or at least make it seem like you were focused. “This takes hours you know, weeks and months- it won’t make sense for a long time.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “I’ll get plenty of time to know you better.”

Laughing through your nose, you kept your attention on the clay you had dropped on the floor. “You can put your clothes back on.”

“Oh!” He chuckled. “Yeah.”

As you carefully trimmed the base clay with a heavy frame, you lifted your head to find Tom slipping a robe back on. He definitely came prepared. Had he done this before?

“Come here.” You gestured. “I need you to set your feet down on the clay.”

“I didn’t think this would get dirty so fast.”

“Shut up.” You huffed, grabbing his foot and pressing it down hard until the clay took shape to the size.

“Cold.” Tom commented in discomfort.

“I know.” You released your grip on his calf, looking up at him with a sheepish smile. “All part of the process, but good news for you- you’re done for the night.”

“Really?” Tom raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

You nodded, standing back up to normal height. “I’m experienced enough to sculpt the feet and legs tonight.”

“When should I come back?” He sounded a tad too eager, but it caused your smile to reappear.

“Tomorrow night if you’re available.”

“And maybe next time you can bring your own alcohol?” You gestured to the multiple beer cans poking out of the recycling bin.

The man flashed you a smile. “Sounds like a date.”

“It’s definitely not.”

Despite your rejection to his amusing advances, Tom’s expressions and mannerisms remained hopeful. Was it possible he was truly enjoying himself?

“I’ll leave my robe here. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time?”

“Same time.” You confirmed, nodding him off. It was about time you started to really focus. Attractive man or not, you always got the most and best work done alone.

Because after the first night, the dynamics between you and Tom changed. He became incredibly invested in your process, asking you questions left and right, asking if there was any way he could help, and practically just lounging next to you hours after he would have been free to go.

“What do your sculptures usually look like?”

“Since this isn’t my own studio, I don’t have any of my pieces here. But I can show you a picture when I get my hands wiped off.”

“What do you build your sculptures with? It’s hard to imagine that a replica of me can come out of that much clay.”

“My sculptures are built with water-based clay and are fired in a gas kiln to cone 4, about 2150 degrees Fahrenheit… “ You nodded towards the back wall that had an installed kiln for you and everyone to share. “Trust me, there will be a lot more clay. Hundreds of pounds worth.”

“Can I help?”

“No.”

There was no lying that you enjoyed his presence. Whether he was talking your ear off or napping to the peaceful beat of your jazz music, there was never a dull moment when Tom was in your studio.

Weeks passed, and so did the process. Your sculpture of Tom had progressed to week three, and that’s when you started to grow nervous. When you finished, which you were almost done, would you ever see him again?

You had barreled through the awkwardness of replicating his genitals and chiseling his six pack perfectly into the hardening clay- but you still felt like something was missing. You knew even when you finished chiseling away his jaw line and chocolate brown eyes, there would still be something missing. Him. His presence.

Maybe it would have been better if you partnered up with a man that had zero personality.

Since it was just you and Tom for hours on end, your conversations gradually grew deeper, they stretched into new lengths, so much so that you eventually felt like you had known him for years.

When Tom claimed he wasn’t looking for a relationship, you felt your heart fall. That’s when you realized you were developing stronger feelings for your model. You hardly had time to think about trivial things like that, but you couldn’t deny your disappointment.

And you were sure he saw the brief tears glossing over your eyes when you turned away. Yet, he didn’t make light of it.

That’s when you knew it was useless.

It seemed useless until the sixth week, when you finally finished the head. You were too afraid to attach it. Tom had spent the last couple hours with you in the studio. His legs kicked back and occasional whistles streaming from his lips. He had practically memorized your playlist to the extent you had.

“Tom.” You called. “Your face is done.”

He cheered excitedly, pushing himself off the sofa and racing towards you. Tom had learned to give you your space while you worked, but in moments where you summoned him, he barely stood inches from you. The man would constantly touch you in ways you couldn’t deny sent shivers down your spine.

Like he did as he rounded the tabletop, planting himself by your side and placing his hand on the low of your back. As if it was natural.

“Wow,” He breathed. “Y/N,” Your name upon his lips sounded as blissful as the music. “It’s.. it’s wonderful. It looks just like me... wow that’s scary.”

“I’m happy you like it.” You bit your lip, wishing you felt more satisfied with your project. You wanted to impress him, but you didn’t want him to go.

“All I have to do is attach the head, and fire it up in the furnace one more time. Then it should be good to go.”

You moved to do so, wanting to remove yourself from his grip. It hurt your heart to know the bond you had formed with him would come to an end. Why did you even let yourself get to this point? Was it because he was good at flirting?

“Wait-” His sentence faltered when you whipped around to face him- looking somewhat hopeful.

“What?”

Tom paused, his throat tightening with the words he never thought he would admit. But he couldn’t leave tonight with at least trying. He needed to know how you felt. Because he could either leave with you in his arms, or he could leave never having to see you again.

He had been thinking of confessing to you for days now, but now that the time came, his mind was blank. “You really are beautiful, you know that right?”

“Why do you feel the need to flatter me?” You blurted, still unable to decipher the truth behind his words. You didn’t know how to accept such a compliment. Tom had claimed you were beautiful before, but this time it felt different.

His eyes spoke volumes. The beauty his eyes held was something you would never be able to replicate in a statue. It was a sight you found yourself never growing sick of.

Averting your eyes, you tried to move again. Yet this time, Tom gripped onto both of your arms.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I won’t let you play me.”

“I was never playing you, darling.” The tenderheartedness intertwined with his words caused you to slowly turn your head back. Your lip quivered, and suddenly you felt like a schoolgirl all over again. You felt childish and unprepared for the intensity of your emotions.

“I don’t want to leave tonight without knowing if you feel the same.”

You blinked, hand reaching out to grip onto his. “And that is?” 

“I don’t know if it’s love, but it could be.” 

“That’s all I needed to hear.” You said, incredibly softly. 

Tom released your arms. And before either of you could process what to do next, your lips interlocked. 

You gripped onto him tightly, balling his white t shirt into a fist to keep him from leaving your side again. 

“Tom-” You breathed. 

The kiss you shared was laced with a fervent need, one that you had never experienced before, and one that you craved again and again. 

After the passion you felt, the skin prickling desire, there would be no turning back. 

“Fuck, you’re everything”’ He mumbled against your lips. 

You pulled back slightly to gaze at his expression. He had looked so afraid before, but now he was smiling from ear to ear. Much like he did the day he arrived with a teasing attitude, ready to get under your skin and provide entertainment. 

“How long have you felt like this?” 

“Since the first day.” He kissed you again, his hands cupping your cheeks. 

You whimpered against his muscular frame, trying to ignore the fluttering in your core, fluttering that begged and craved for more. 

“How did you wait so long?” 

“I wanted you to finish.” 

You chuckled, cheesing at his straightforward, simple reply. 

You were positive from that moment moving on, that Tom was not what you had thought at first glance. This entire time he had put you and your project first, letting his own desires sit and warm on the back-burner. That was something you would hold close to your heart, something you would cherish. 

He cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 

“Stay with me tonight, Tom.” 

“I would love nothing more.” 

[chrystening]

Reference Text | Felix / MC

Title: Reference Text

Fandom: Last Legacy (Fictif Games)

Rating: T (but very close to M)

Words: 2.4k

Summary:  Despite “majoring in necromancy”, you assumed Felix was a well-rounded mage, proficient in many areas. And when you find a certain book in his library, you learn it is… many areas, indeed.

Any MC Characteristics?: You are the same height as Felix. MC is male in my mind, but it’s a very gender neutral story.

Content warnings?: One (1) Bad Sex Word. Many sex references. But generally this is a light-hearted read full of pining. feLix has a Sex Book 

Technically pre-smut

Wow, it’s been so long since I’ve written! Glad to see I haven’t gotten any better!!!!!1

Once I realized felix wore eyeliner, it was over for me. also the idea of magic tomes was so interesting, i made a whole story about it. cheers.

Anyway, this is like a prequel to the actual smut because writing it all as one... made me feel icky and made me feel like Felix was way out of character

the smut will have three diff versions, male, female, and non-binary (non-descript)...

Your gaze ran across the room, falling upon the couch whose cushions lied atop of the Grimoire Lemegeton. Stella was notably absent, but you knew that Felix wouldn’t let you get your hands on the artifact anyway, not before you were ready.

Currently, you had been tasked from unsuccessfully levitating teacups, onto something even harder. You were to conjure fire from your hands. The idea had come to Felix after he saw your fascination with him setting his father’s letter spontaneously ablaze.

You let your outstretched arms fall to your side.

“This isn’t working Felix.” You turned to your teacher—your master? “I want to be like you—I want to learn necromancy! Let me read the Lemegeton!”

Felix was at his desk, focused on his own studies. His eyes closed behind his glasses, his lips falling into smug grin. He chuckled.

“You want to attempt necromancy? As a novice mage? That would be akin to handing a newborn babe a knife, in hopes it’d jump to its two feet and make its first kill.”

You stared at him, mind processing the morbid analogy. You had known Felix long enough to not comment on some of his more perverse metaphors. Instead, you went forward with your plea.

“So? You were a baby when you began magic.”

Felix’s gaze rose from his book to look at you. He spoke plainly, as if it were as obvious as the weather, “Well, that’s because I’m extraordinary.”

You deflated. It was true. He was extraordinary. And extraordinary, you were not. You frowned and stared at your hands.

“Oh, to be a mage skilled enough to read a book bound in human skin and scribed in blood,” you sighed dramatically, though the bitterness was not hidden in your voice.

You tried to shake off the self-loathing and refocused on making flames spout from your palms.

Unbeknownst to you, Felix removed his glasses with an elegant pinch of forefinger and thumb. He stood from his desk and approached your back.

“I’ve told you before that I can sense the magic within you. It’s a seed of its own.” From behind you, Felix placed a hand on your chest, above your heart. You flinched, but Felix’s front against your back steadied you. “All you need to do is to water it, and it will burgeon.” You prayed he wouldn’t feel your heart thrumming under his palm—this heart that, against your will, was beginning to be his.

You turned your head so that even if only in profile, you’d be able to see his face. You didn’t know how to describe his expression, but what you knew is that the both of your faces were getting closer to one another… so close you could pinpoint in Felix’s eyes the exact second he realized what he was doing. He stepped away, slightly pink. Suddenly, you could breathe, but you didn’t want to.

“Come,” he said.

Felix’s face was encouraging—encouraging like a teacher, or a mentor. Purely platonic. You tried not to pay attention to the sinking feeling in your chest.

“While I won’t allow you to dip your toes into necromancy just yet—” you groaned “—I can assure you that there is a lot of magic you could choose from in the meantime.” Felix lead you to the bookshelves that lined his walls.

“What’s the point of bouncing from spell to spell if I can’t make any of them happen,” you sighed under your breath.

“I’ve had you try both levitating and conjuring just from power of will. I have yet to have you aid yourself with books, my barista.” Your spirit brightened with the usage of Felix’s pet name for you. At least, you considered it a pet name.

Felix gestured to the library with a grand, theatric arc of his arm. “Browse. Pick any book that catches your eye.”

Your eyes skimmed book after book with little hope any would yield results. Until, you spied a spine with deep ruby letters against a backdrop of midnight black.

You stood on the tips of your toes and picked it. As soon as you touched it, there was a hot buzz between your fingers and the book’s surface. Now, you were interested.

“Daemones… Carnis…?” you read aloud off its cover.

No sooner than you finished speaking, the tome was snatched right out of your fingers with a squeak from your teacher. You turned to him, curiosity more than piqued. Felix held the book tightly to his chest, arms crossed over it like an Egyptian being laid to rest. His face was flush.

“Felix.” You stepped towards the mage, hands reaching for the book. “What’s that mean?” you asked, though already your mind was turning. You were struggling to reach into the library of college academia in your brain, sifting through lessons of Latin literature. Daemones… It was obvious was that meant. Demons…

Felix’s face struggled to morph itself back into a poised expression. He babbled, before managing to form coherent thought. “My talented, lovely barista… it’s nothing too i-interesting, I’m afraid.”

Felix called you barista all the time, but whenever he added endearment in front of it… “My dear, charming barista—my clever, sweet barista…” Oh, he was hiding something.

Carnis… Your eyes widened as your mind clicked. Your mouth formed an ‘o’.

You began scandalously, “You study sex magic—”

“I DO NOT!” he exclaimed before you could even finish, his face dropping all pretense of composure. You didn’t even know Felix could open his mouth that wide. Oh, you had to enjoy this while it lasted.

You pointed at him accusatorily. Felix’s eyes nearly went cross-eyed staring at the tip of your finger in front of his nose.

“Demons of the Flesh! What else could that mean? That’s a sex book!”

Felix shelved the book, hiding his face with mauve, layered locks of hair. “It is not—”

“Don’t lie to me, Felix—”

Felix’s head whipped back to you.

“It is not something so… so crude!” his face was as overwrought as it was before, but there was the pinched look of childish indignation in his features. His cheeks were still flush, his mouth twitchy and his eyes averted, but his brows were firm. You decided to lay off… at least for a few moments.

“Then…” you bumped Felix to the side with your hip. “That means it should be just fine for me to read.” He protested, but you ignored him and plucked the book out of its shelves. You could get a good look at it finally.

Daemones Carnis, it read, in fine red text that almost seemed to glow. You felt almost hypnotized. The book’s cover was bound in tight black leather. It had a simple, minimal cover, yet it was strangely suggestive—it appealed to your exact aesthetic. The book looked actually quite pristine, but just by touching it, you knew it was old. You could sense the age and knowledge between its covers. Under the pads of your fingers, the book seemed to hum.

It felt dark… it felt alive.

Your teasing smirk fell into the grin of genuine curiosity.

“Felix… what is it?”

Felix looked like he was going to refuse to entertain you, until he perhaps he saw the sincerity on your features. His flush deepened. He folded his arms and averted his eyes, clearing his throat.

“It is… it is the Daemones Carnis.” At your unimpressed look, he huffed and continued. “Just like the Grimoire Lemegeton, it is a book of learning. Of knowledge.” Felix seemed to finally calm down, even if his blush wasn’t fading. He turned his nose up with dignity, speaking factually. “In more common tongue, it is called the Demons of the Flesh. It is a…” He tried to find the words.

Sex book, you thought but dared not speak, for fear that Felix would refuse to say any more.

“It is an encyclopedia of spells, potions, rituals, and charms one could use for… pleasure.” Felix tried, even if he faltered at the end. He gave you a frustrated look, so as to say ‘Happy now?’

You smiled and turned back to the book, flipping it open. A faded scent of spice and sweetness wafted off its pages. If it weren’t so old a text, you were sure the aroma would’ve been even stronger. It was as if everything about this book was designed to allure. To tantalize.

“Well. I have questions,” you said. Felix huffed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

“I’ll… indulge. But only a few.”

“So it’s about sex?” You looked up from a particularly graphic illustration of cunnilingus.

His cheeks flamed, though from the diagram or the question, you couldn’t tell.

“It… it is indeed carnal in nature.”

“What did people use this for?”

He looked taxed, like voicing it was enough to tire him. “Like I said, it is full of spells, rituals and enchantments. It also details the body, highlighting… parts of the human anatomy that would be the most … relevant to the matter at hand.” He waved his hand. “Think of it as necromancy. People found a subject of magic they wished to learn more of, so they compiled all their knowledge into this text.” Felix stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Although, unlike the Grimoire Lemegeton, this one isn’t as complete an account...”

“Then…” He looked at you. “If the Grimoire Lemegeton is written in blood… is this one written in—?”

“Don’t be a fool, because I know you aren’t one,” Felix said frankly, refusing to dignify you with a real response.

You nudged him, pressing your side against his until his shoulders relaxed again.

“Okay, okay, last question…” And it was indeed the one you were most curious to have answered. You looked up at him coyly. “Why do you have it?”

Felix was taken aback, and just like that, his blush was returning.

You smiled, batting your lashes at him comically. “Of course, it’s fine if you—um, you know—we all have lonely nights and such…”

“I learned it for necromancy!" Felix fervently explained. He looked like the human manifestation of clutching your pearls. “Casting necromancy… it requires an intense study of the human body. The relationship between life and death—! It’s something that can only be understood with knowledge of the body, its parts, its… n-needs—” Felix’s voice was trembling and fast, words crashing into one another like a car accident.

You smiled, pitying the man. “Relax, Felix. I believe you.” You flipped through the book. It was entirely in Latin, or at least some language that was Astraea’s equivalent of the ancient tongue. Luckily for you, by the sides, Felix had annotated the text and translated its contents. You looked your teacher up and down. “But wow… so just for necromancy, you had to learn everything about the human body…?“

Felix, seeing your belief and hearing your admiration, calmed down. He blinked, before clearing his throat and nodded. “At least, most of everything.”

“That’s impressive, even for you.”

He smiled, ego being stroked. He was such a cat. “’Even for me?’ I’d argue it’s quite in character.”

You decided to humor Felix while you skimmed through the Daemones Carnis. “Yes, yes, quite on brand for you Felix. You’re such an accomplished mage, after all…” Your praises came to a pause as you landed on a peculiar page.

While Felix was struggling to put on the air of disinterest to your praises, you read. A small illustration of two people in tight embrace was at the bottom. A halo of energy was wrapped around them both.

“Not a literal transfusion.” Felix’s gaze snapped to the page you were open to as you read from Felix’s translation notes. “This ritual bolsters a lesser magician’s magical ability by having a more skilled mage in close proximity…” Though from the image and further reading, you were willing to bet the participants were in more than just… ‘close proximity.’

“The magic transfusion ritual,” you read aloud.

Your gaze rose from the book, and you found that Felix’s had done the same as well. You hadn’t noticed when you had gotten so close to the man. But here you were… so close you could see all of Felix’s features acutely. The pale gray eyes that reminded you of an overcast day… the beauty mark that lied on the juncture between cheek and jaw… the lips of a mouth that managed to annoy you and fascinate you on a daily basis. For not the first time, you found Felix attractive. You wondered what he was thinking.

After a few seconds of locked eye contact, the both of you could see the realization in your eyes. You struggled with magic, Felix claimed that books could help, you found this new spell designed to solve your problem… and in the silence, neither of you were going to voice the obvious next course of action.

So you both ripped your eyes from one another, cheeks warm.

“I… well, this…” You cleared your throat, forcing an amicable smile across your face. “It’s … very interesting!” you offered, but your enthusiasm sounded awkward even to you.

Felix took the book from your hands, and you found yourself missing its presence in your hands. He was trying to shelve it back in its place, standing on his tiptoes.

“I— You know, a lot of the text is pure drivel,” Felix supplied, voice struggling to remain level. “Unlike the Lemegeton, I’ve never followed this book so closely. This one hails from less than reputable sources.” He was babbling.

You nodded, fiddling with your empty hands. You backed away, leaving Felix’s vicinity despite a pang in your lower gut bidding you not to.

“I’m… just going to continue practicing.”

“Yes… of course.”

You returned to the spot you stood at previously, hands outstretched and twitching fruitlessly. Felix went back to his desk, and you heard not a sound from him besides the scuff of his seat against the floor when he sat. You sighed mentally. You liked him… and no matter what happened, you dared not presume how he felt, not if you wanted to stay sane.

…

You were sure Felix couldn’t see your face…

You tried to keep a straight face, you really did, but the mirth could not be controlled. You shook with suppressed, soundless laughter.

Felix Iskandar Escellun—house unaffiliated, necromancer—had a sex book.

[blakemetothemoon]

Love in a Laundromat - 7/? - SaifahZon, M

Notes: Soooo with everything going on, my NaNo has kind of changed into me focusing on this fic and I'm super okay with it. Thank you for all the support on this!

Summary: Zon's favorite place is a laundromat. That is until a certain tall, handsome stranger steals his washer and seems hellbent on making Zon miserable.

Read here or on ao3! :)

Marley Coffee Bar is only a short, five minute walk away, but it feels like ages.

Awkward pauses linger, like now that they aren't in the laundromat playing music they don't know how to talk. Saifah seems like he has something he wants to tell Zon, but every time he speaks, it's something mundane that comes out. Comments on the humidity, or how classes are going. There's this noticeable space between them Zon swears wasn't there before the party. Zon is starting to wonder if he’s the only one thinking about those intense moments of touching and moving together and kissing at all. In fact, Saifah barely looks at Zon. His eyes don't linger on Zon's lips like he’s caught them doing more than once…

And that’s when it hits Zon like a brick wall what Saifah is trying to say: that night was a mistake.

Of course, Zon thinks. Of course Saifah regrets it. He’s Saifah, and Zon is Zon, and—

"Here it is!" Saifah says, yanking Zon out of the heavy thoughts starting to weigh him down.

Zon glances up at the shop beneath the white “Marley Coffee Bar” sign and crinkles his brow at the darkened building, chairs on tables and no staff bustling about inside. “Um, it looks closed."

Saifah holds the door open for Zon and gestures for him to take a right instead of a left into the other side of the entrance where the lighting is dim and soft, jazzy music plays from an overhead speaker. “It’s a bar, too. Mostly wine and beer, but they’ve got some coffee-flavored cocktails and small plates.”

The barista-bartender is all smiles as he approaches them, white towel thrown over his shoulder. ‘Ban’ is handwritten pretty in white on his nametag. Ban raises an eyebrow when he notices the guitar on Saifah’s back. “Saifah! You’re not scheduled to play tonight, are you?”

“No, I’m just here with a…,” Saifah pauses. Then, he smiles softly and brushes past, smoothing out the wrinkle of hesitation like it was never there. “With a friend from university. This is Zon.”

Still stuck on Saifah’s pause—why did Saifah pause? What was he going to say? What was he ashamed to say?— Zon’s bow and greeting comes out a little awkward. Then, he glances up at the giant menu. Written in fancy, gold script, it stretches from one side of the bar to the next. Coffee, a column of roast types, teas, a beer and wine list, signature cocktails, food. Zon’s head starts to spin as he takes it all in.

“Just a cup of coffee black," he finally says. "Whatever the darkest roast is.”

“And the usual for me,” Saifah tells Ban. Then, he turns to Zon. “I’m going to put my guitar on the stage out of the way. I’ll grab our drinks on the way back, you go grab one of the booths.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Zon grumbles out of principle, but wanders off to do what Saifah demanded, ignoring the amusement in both Saifah and Ban’s faces. 

Only a few other people are in the bar: a couple conversing with each other at the bar, another at the booth closest to the stage, and a group of five girls at a table. Every single one watches Saifah as he walks to the stage, their gazes more than fleeting, innocent interest. Zon makes a face and rolls his eyes before dropping into the closest booth, tossing his backpack onto the seat next to him. While he waits for Saifah to grab the drinks, he finally takes in the coffee shop-bar hybrid.

Marley Coffee Bar is this bizarre mix of antique and modern, like a coffee shop version of those speakeasies he’s read about in old American novels. The chandelier lights are all different shapes and types, and the booths are made of red leather, while the wooden tables are rustic grey. There’s a mahogany curtain next to the line of booths to separate the bar from the coffee shop; it’s velvet and soft when he loses against the urge to touch it. The stage is the only part Zon recognizes, thanks to all those fan videos of Saifah. It’s small and intimate, while the grand black piano next to it adds another level of class he didn’t expect when Saifah invited him to a coffee shop.

Zon is finding the whole mix-match of it kind of...inspiring? His fingers twitch, craving to write. Songs, stories, a new world with Marley Coffee Bar at the center of characters' lives. And this is where Saifah plays? He’s part of creating this atmosphere, part of the reason people come here?

“Really amazing, isn’t it?” Saifah says as he finally slides into the booth across from Zon.

So are you, Zon thinks. He barely stops himself from saying it out loud.

Saifah’s now sans guitar and holding four drinks. He sets them down without spilling a drop. Zon’s black drip coffee is in a mug the size of his face. The marble is a faded blue. Saifah’s drink is in a tall white glass with, “est. 1929” in golden scrawl. It’s completely different from Zon’s, like there is no consistency beyond the cups having history that customers can converse over.

“What are those?” Zon asks, pointing to the extra drinks.

“Ban made them. On the house, since it’s your first time here.”

“It’s not yours though, so why do you get one?

“VIP,” Saifah says and winks.

Zon snorts. “You’re so cocky.”

It’s one hundred percent not a compliment, and he did a great job of keeping any sort of endearment out of his voice. But it doesn’t stop Saifah from looking annoyingly proud of himself. Zon reaches across the table to smack Saifah’s head, and the taller man grunts even though Zon had put barely any force behind it.

Saifah pushes both cocktails into the center in a peace offering. “This one is basically a cold brew with rum and orange, and this one is a white russian. And if you don’t want to drink that’s fine, too.”

There goes Saifah being all considerate and annoying. Except it’s not annoying, it’s stupidly attractive, and it makes Zon all frazzled and giddy.

“Which is your favorite?” he replies.

“The white russian."

“You have that one.” Zon grabs the cold brew with rum before Saifah can accommodate him again. His head is already a mess trying to read Saifah tonight, he doesn’t need another reason to fucking swoon. Plus the drink he grabbed is so good, he has to immediately take another sip.

“So…” Zon continues, setting his cup back down on the table, enjoying the coldness against his clammy hands. “This is where you play?”

Saifah nods. “Most Wednesdays and sometimes when they do open mic nights on Saturdays. They raise the curtain and keep both sides open for those.” He glances back over his shoulder to the stage, then turns back to Zon with a trademark smirk. “You know, there aren’t that many people here. Ban would probably have no problem if we played a song or two.”

The suggestion instantly makes Zon’s stomach plummet. “No.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun—”

“I said no, Saifah.”

Saifah seems taken aback, and Zon flinches, realizing the harshness of his tone a moment too late.

“It’s just—”

“No, I get it,” Saifah interrupts, saving Zon from fumbling out an explanation. “You’ve never even sang in front of someone before until recently. At least, not knowingly—ow!”

Saifah rubs his head again because Zon had hit him considerably harder that time.

"Stop bringing that up!” Zon snaps. “And how can I perform in front of people I don't know when I've never even practiced? If it was just us alone in your room or something, it would be diff…”

He slams his mouth shut, but the words are already out there, lingering and heavy with all sorts of implications, and Saifah definitely heard him because he looks both awed and then devious at the same time.

“Oh?” Saifah says, the word tilting like he’s singing it. "You wanna be alone in my room with me?"

“Music!” Zon rushes out. “Just to make music!”

“There are a lot of different kinds of music we can make—Zon, wait!” Saifah laughs as he grabs Zon by the wrist to stop him from storming off. “I’m kidding!”

Saifah gently tugs Zon's wrist and pulls him down into the booth next to him. The touch is so light, but his fingers burn heat into Zon's skin, and he hopes Saifah can't feel the sudden racing of his pulse. Thankfully, Saifah lets him go. Not so thankfully, Saifah slides his arm over the back of the booth, and he's so freakishly long, his hand can dangle over the edge. Saifah also has no trouble pulling Zon’s drinks to this side of the table, and now it would be too awkward for him to switch seats again, but… if he ignores the logic part of his brain, he knows he doesn’t want to.

There’s a soft buzzing against Zon’s leg. He thinks it’s his phone but quickly realizes it’s Safaih’s. In Saifah’s pocket. Which is pressing against Zon’s thigh because they’re sitting that close to each other, and now that he’s aware of it, it’s all he can focus on. When Saifah shifts to pull out his phone, Zon jolts at the movement.

“You’re pretty popular,” he says to distract from it.

“Well, obviously,” Saifah replies, meeting Zon’s snark with an amused quirk of his eyebrow. “But this time it’s just Day.”

“Day? Tutor’s friend?”

“Hey, hey, that hurts. You know who Day is but had no clue who I was when we met?”

Zon feels his cheeks grow hot which is dumb because he has nothing to be embarrassed about, just because he didn’t know who Saifah was. Maybe Saifah is popular with his music and maybe he’s a good friend of Tutor’s and maybe he’s so tall Zon would have at least noticed him once across campus. Maybe, considering all those things, some embarrassment was justified. Not that Saifah needs to know that.

“With how many adoring fans you have, I highly doubt me not knowing who you are means much.”

Again, Saifah looks like he wants to bring something up but drops his gaze back to his phone. He doesn’t sound particularly casual when he says, “I posted a new video earlier. Day likes to screenshot some of the more… fanatic comments.”

Zon doesn’t need to see the screenshots to know what those are like; he’d read plenty of them when he was looking up Saifah that one night weeks ago. (And a few more times, but only because they were playing music together and he wanted to know more about Saifah’s style. Research. It’s important when it comes to being a writer.)

Saifah is still reading through Day’s messages, and Zon is feeling the slightest bit ignored so he asks, “Do you want my line?”

They’re still pressed together; Zon feels immediately when Saifah’s entire body goes rigid. He raises his head slowly, like a puppet on a string. “Do you… want to give me your line?”

With an annoyed huff, Zon grabs Saifah’s phone and quickly goes to the contacts. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.”

Saifah laughs when Zon hands the phone back. “ ‘Zon-Zon-Zon-Zon’ is your username?”

“If you’re going to make fun of me, then give it back, I’m deleting it!”

“Nope, nope!” Saifah hits the call button and wiggles his eyebrows when Zon’s phone rings. “Allow me to honor you with mine, too.”

After he digs his phone out of his pocket, Zon swipes his thumb, making a show of ignoring the call. Saifah’s affronted gasp makes it hard for Zon to keep a serious face, and he laughs. Apparently, regretting their make out session still doesn't stop Saifah from flirting with him. (This is flirting, right?)

“A giraffe?” Saifah says, incredulous, as he watches Zon set his contact name. “You’re using a giraffe emoji?”

“It’s the most accurate,” Zon replies with a smile, enjoying Saifah’s pout. Then, he sets his phone down and takes a long drink of his coffee, working up the courage for what he’s about to say next: “Okay.”

Despite the sudden backtrack in conversation, Saifah picks up what Zon is replying to. "Okay?"

The opening to back out is tempting, and Zon… he's scared but he wants to do this. "Let's do it. Write songs. At your place."

Zon doesn't expect silence. It stretches so long he finally has to look at Saifah to gauge the other's expression. His lips are tight and his small brown eyes are completely unaffected. "Okay. We can do that."

"Hey," Zon pouts, "why do you sound so unhappy now that I agreed?"

Saifah grabs Zon's arm and shakes it playfully. "My Zon, my Zon! I'm so sorry! Please come play in my room with me!"

Zon feels his entire face grow hot with a fierce blush, and he shakes Saifah's hand off. But before he can scold Saifah, the other unlocks his phone and opens YouTube.

“By the way, there’s a song I think would be fun to do together," Saifah says. "You know ‘Shallow’, right? I found this really pretty acoustic cover of it. Or we can do whatever you want. Maybe that Pardon Me song you wrote? I've been coming up with a bridge that I think works. I can teach you how to play guitar, too—” His excitement suddenly simmers when he meets Zon’s wide doe eyes. Like knowing he has Zon's rapt attention makes him nervous. He clears his throat and pushes a smirk. “You’ll have to ask me reallllly nice, though.”

Zon is about to remind Saifah he’s the one who brought it up. But Saifah’s enthusiasm is endearing and his closeness is a warmth Zon leans into without meaning to, and he can’t help but play along. “Oh, wonderful, Mr. Saifah. Please teach me how to play guitar with your paramount skills.”

The music video starts playing, but Saifah keeps the volume low so only they can hear. He hums and he sets his phone on the table. Then, like the coffee bar and Zon's answer have wiped away all that uncertainty he's been struggling with all night, he says, “I might need better convincing than that.”

For the first time that night, Zon catches Saifah looking at him like he did before The Party. In his eyes is that same heat he had when pressing Zon against that door before stealing his lips and his breath. A heat that holds words he isn’t saying but that Zon can read. The twisting confusion in Zon’s chest tightens while his entire being flares, burning hot and craving. He swallows against the lump in his throat and his mouth is dry as a desert. He chugs half his cocktail to try and moisten it, but his voice still cracks when he replies, "Guess I'll have to think of something."

Then, Zon presses in closer to Saifah's side, pretending he's more interested in the song than kissing Saifah until they're breathless.

[naptoons]

Official Girl— Zion Kuwonu

Warnings: mild mature language.

Theme: Angst / Fluff ??? I guess I vauguely know the diff.

Summary: you and Zion have been together for almost half a year, but it didn’t feel like it cause when it came down to the public eye, he was single. And you were just his friend.

A/N: I did not proofread any of this so if there’s some spelling errors I apologize, and I hope it isn’t cringe! Enjoy🖤

You and Zion have been dating for almost a year and to your surprise no one even knew expect the PRETTYMUCH members along with their girlfriends. Neither of your family members knew either. You had a million thoughts going through your brain debating which thought was the placebo of why he would want to hide your relationship for almost a year. Don’t get it wrong, your relationship is great, he makes you happy. But hearing him tell the rest of his friends any beanz that ‘you’re aren’t his girl’ and ‘just a friend’ kinda made you think back on the days where you were stuck in the friend zone with him.

Sighing you slouch in your chair turning in your essay. You decided to go to los angles to study for your major. You wanted to get out of your hometown experience new places and people. You met Zion through one of your friends. You’ve never even heard of ‘PRETTYMUCH’ until she showed you a few of their music videos and interviews you started to hone in on them. Next thing you knew your friend bought you guys tickets and meet and greets in los angles.

Zion had his eyes on you on and off the entire time on stage. And boy was he thrilled to see you at meet and greet. And that’s the cliché way you meet Zion and became his “girlfriend” more like “girl-friend” groaning you hop out the bed going to grab a cup of water but your phones text tone vibration on the cherry wood table stops you. Moving towards your phone you see a text from the devil himself. Crazy how the universe works.

[ From: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

Hey mamas you wanna go to a birthday party with me? I promise I’ll stick by you the whole night ❤️

Moral of the story to the last sentence Zion typed was prettymuch had a album release party with a lot of their friends and Zion invited you. But twenty minutes into the party Zion left you and was faded and tipsy.So you ended up taking an uber back home and went to sleep. Zion didn’t get a wink of sleep that night worrying about you.

[ To: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

Hm. Fine I’ll go but you better keep your promise.

[ From: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

I promise babygirl. The party isn’t until late around 8pm so I’ll come pick you up. I love you can’t wait to see your fine ass🥵

Rolling your eyes at his flirty remarks. One thing you can’t knock him for is he always reminds you how beautiful you are. Sitting your phone down you go back to the previous task, grabbing the glass and sticking it on the dispenser filling it half empty half full. Sipping on the ice cold water you make your way back to room deciding how you would kill two hours worth of time.

Waking up an hour and a half later you decided to go ahead and take a shower. While waiting for the water to heat up you grab your phone turning on your Bluetooth speaker to blare music for your invisible fans. First song to come up on shuffle was official girl by Cassie. You place your fingers in the shower feeling the warm water slide down your fingertips. Stripping out of your clothes you jump in the shower.

“You gotta love me in the light and the dark” you sung out loud. As you were singing the lyrics it resonated with your feelings towards Zion.After your quick shower you got dressed and did your hair in a style you loved. Looking at the clock wondering would Zion be on his way yet,It’s 7:30pm and he hasn’t sent a single text or call. Going to your messages you decide to text him.

[ To: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

Zion what time are you coming to pick me up?

Setting your phone back down, you grab your platform boots slipping them on and tying them up. Grabbing your favorite perfume brand lathering your body up in it. fifteen minutes later and you still got nothing from Zion. You launch the Instagram app seeing Zion posted on his Instagram 3 minutes ago a screen of his monitor and fortnite asking for someone to join the lobby.

You roll your eyes wondering why you even texted him in the first place, him and fortnite have a better relationship than you and Zion. You decided to text one of the members.

[ To: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]

Hey Brandon is the party still going on tonight?

[ From: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]

. yeah , we’re actually here where are you and Zion?

[ To: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]

‘Zion’ is on fortnite rn, ill be coming in uber please give me the address🙄

[ From: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]

. I mean you don’t have to come if you don’t want too.

It’s better to have fun, then being cooped up in the house doing nothing, what could go wrong? You though you yourself. Pulling your leather skirt down a little you stand up and place an uber order Your uber arrived twenty minutes later,On the way to the party you have been listening to music with occasionally conversations with the driver. Your phone vibrates, and from the vibrations you know who it is. And you dread wether you should reply or not.but deep down you know you can’t ignore him.

[ From Babie 🤧🧡 ]

Yo Sorry mamas I didn’t see your text.

[ From Babie 🤧🧡 ]

I’m coming to get your fine ass now🥵

[ To: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

No worries Zion lol, I’m catching a ride to the party.

[ From: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

Who’s takin you?

Ignoring his question you decide to screenlock your phone and enjoy the soft ride. The ride was about an extra twenty minutes to get there but it was a pleasant ride nevertheless

Getting out of the car you thank the driver and prepare yourself for the house full of sweaty young adults, blaring loud music and the smell of different strains of weed. Pulling your skirt down a little you walk up to the door ignoring the few whistles and hollers from the drunk guys falling around and laughing on the grass. Knocking on the door you await for anyone to open the door it was starting to get a little chilly outside. “Y/N?” Someone speaks in a puzzled tone. Turning your head around your eyes are met with nick, nodding your head you step off the steps to be engulfed in a hug.

“How are you, what are you doing here by yourself?” Nick questions

“Well I’m not by myself now am I ?” You joke sarcastically, nick shows his cheeky smile while opening the door for you. Upon your sight is a house filled to the rim of people, red solo cups scattered all over the floor, multiple groups of people playing games and kissing.

“Where’s Zion?” Nick asks, while the both of you walk into the kitchen, the constant questions of “Zion” is starting to agitate you more and more. You wanted to have fun and not think about Zion. Because frankly Zion hasn’t been thinking about you. Before you could answer nick’s question soft delicate caramel tattooed arms wrapped around your shoulders with a sweet scent of strawberries and mint leaves.

“I’m here” his voice hones in on your ear lobes, his lips reaching your temple slightly and rapidly before any one could catch eyes on it “hey mamas” Zion’s voice vibrates across your skin.

“Hi” you answer softly not really wanting to talk to him you’d hoped to avoid, nick offers you and Zion a drink grabbing the shot you swallow it down like it was water. Passing the shot glass over to nick for another round.

“Woah mamas slow down okay?” Zion mumbles from behind you with his hands firmly placed on you lower back. Ignoring his comment you drink down another shot earning a “wooo” from nick as he fires you up for your last shot of the day with a slice of lime from the fridge.

“Thank you nick” you smile eating the lime in one hand and firmly grasping the cold water bottle in the other. You turn around to say something to Zion but he’s gone in the back talking to someone. you decide it’s really time to have fun since you’re “single” in the dark. Before you could head over to the dance floor a guy walks up to you with a sheepish grin. His teeth were pearly white and aligned with each other not missing a single space or gap, his skin screamed Melanin “hello how are you?” He asks very politely.

“I’m fine and you?”

“Good if you’re breathing, I was wondering would you like to have a dance? If you don’t mind” he hesitates,not even thinking of an answer you grab his hand reporting to the dance floor. (A/N i thought about the lyric from you by Lloyd ‘And uh, I want all my sexy ladies to report to the dance floor immediately’ lol sorry I may have made you cringe)

you get on the dance floor dancing to the song that’s blaring through the speakers. Taking sips from another shot you grabbed on your way to the dance floor why not? You did say you wanted to have fun. Softly the mysterious man lays his hand on your hips digging his fingertips into your waist. Even though you knew you were with Zion. You wasn’t just going to grind up on some guy even though your devil shoulder told you too.

Zion finishes his conversation with a friend he used to know in Canada, now he was on his way to look for you trying to keep his promise of never leaving tonight. Meeting nick back at the kitchen his thick eyebrows knitted in confusion. Nick not wanting to hear the anger bounce off on him, he decides to point in the direction of you and the mysterious guy. Fuming with vexation, he squeezed the bottle in his hands until his knuckles turned white. Heading over towards the problem he grab you by your arm softly but cautiously. The guy stands back smirking at the sight of a jealous Zion. while you were a bit staggering from the four shots of alcohol you took.

“Hey chill out we were dancing and having a good time!” The guy slurs his words. You started to sober up slightly at the sight of Zion’s muscles in his jawline clenching on and off his knuckles turning ghostly white as he holds in every excuse to lay this guy out with his fists. His face almost beat red.

“Have a good time with someone else not her” Zion excuses the both of you guys away from him and into a quieter location, closing the door behind him Zion let’s out a groan of frustration as his fingers roam through the tangles of his dreads. “What the fuck was that y/n?!” Zion yells but not too aggressive because even though he’s mad at you, you’re still his baby and he’ll never disrespect you.

“What ? I can’t have fun? I mean I’m not your official girl anyways” you slur your truth with hidden sarcasm. You were tipsy and when you’re tipsy the truth comes out. And in the back of your mind you knew once the truth came out things were going to change.

“Y/n what the fuck are you talking about? , of course you are my girl mamas” his tone of voice changes obviously struck by your words, not wanting to look into his eyes with your glassy eyes, you turn your head, not even batting an eye at him, you just couldn’t your heart shattered even thinking of telling him how you felt.

“No I’m not Zion” you choke at your first sentence “I’m your friend, you know the girl who hangs out with you occasionally and comes in your Instagram lives, I’m the girl you say ‘Nah she’s the homie’ I’m not your fucking girl Zion, and it’s been that way for half a goddamn year!” You bark at him, Zion tries to reach for your hands but falls short as you pull them away from his reach “ if you don’t wanna be with me tell me. If you’re embarrassed by me tell me. Fucking give me something I’m tired of being your unofficial girl” you wipe your tears heading straight for the door but Zion blocks it.

“Wait Mamas listen,” his words fall short trying to bite back the tears, his whole world crashing down in front of his eyes “i couldn’t be so fucking proud to have you as my girlfriend, you don’t understand how happy I am to hold you in my arms every fucking day, how proud I am to have you in the studio with me because that’s the only way I can work faster, babygirl you are everything and more I’ve ever needed”

“Zion this secrecy is making me feel like I’m not good enough” your voice cracks filling the room up with icy cold tension. You’re trying so hard to stop crying but you can’t, all the bottled up feelings are just slipping through the cracks. Zion rapidly walks over to you to hold you in his arms. Your brain wants to push him off,but your heart wants to be held until your cries muffled into the music in the background. His slender golden fingers hold the back of your head while the other tightly on your lower back.

“I deserve more Zion, but I don’t wanna pressure you dear, but I’m tired, I’m tired” you speak into his trashed denim jacket. You pull out of his embrace. Walking towards the door, leaving Zion in the room with his thoughts. Passing by nick and Brandon as you wiped your tears, hearing their cries of your names just makes you regret even coming to this party in the first place. The guy you danced with earlier snatches your wrist in a halt just as you were about to grab the door knob, this day just couldn’t get anymore hetic you thought.

“Babygirl.. did he make you cry?” His eyebrows knit up in a bunch, you stumble over the cups placed on the floor snatching your arms at of the young man’s grasp not before you feel an arm around your shoulder engulfing your body into his chest. “Don’t touch her got that? She doesn’t belong to you” he grits his teeth, spitting the poison out on him “oh but she belongs to you?” The guy questions trying to provoke a fight with Zion.

“She doesn’t belong to anyone she’s her own woman, but we are dating and I don’t appreciate anyone treating her less than what she is, so if you want all your bones to be intact and still have teeth to eat with tomorrow I suggest you back the fuck up” your eyes look up at the flushed pinked tint that was painted across his face the slight flinch of his muscles in his jawline.

“Can we leave please?” You plead to him and instantly he grabbed your hand taking you out the party. The ride home was slient. So many things were going on, bottled up emotions were spilled and you just thought to yourself how awkward this would be in the morning. Zion opens the door for you following right after you in the cold house. Taking off your boots you curl up on the bed shaking as the goosebumps multipled on your skin. Zion walks over to you throwing the covers over your body tucking you in like a parent to a kid.

“Can we talk about this?” Zion says breaking the ice, letting out a choked hoarse sigh

“I’m afraid too” you speak barely above a whisper hoping he didn’t catch it.

“Well then listen to me” Zion grabs your legs placing them on his thighs so his fingers hook under your calves “ I’ve never been this deep in love, everytime I get really deep into a relationship something always fucks it up, and I didn’t want anything or anyone to break us up hence why I’ve been hiding us. Specially from the media. It’s a dog eats dog world out there mamas” his fingers tapping on your now timid skin “and I don’t want you to be hurt because of my job, or those whom support and love me, their opinions won’t matter to me I don’t give a shit but I don’t want you hurt babygirl I love your smiles earlier in the morning,” Zion chokes up “ I wanna keep seeing the crinkle in your nose as you curse the sun for being bright, have you re-twisting my dreads, your sudden outbursts of Disney soundtracks”

“I cherish all that shit mamas” Zion finishes like a heavy weight was lifted off his shoulder.

Your eyes begin to soften at how raw Zion is being right now. Zion was never the type to show his cards on the table. Everyone knew this. But seeing him fold like a deck of cards really breaks your heart. “I love our date nights where we just watch movies or play board games, cause it’s just us and no one to interrupt us or tell us how to love each other, but it seems I’ve hurt you more this way instead of the other way I was trying to protect you from. I’m sorry mamas” his Cinderella glass slipper eyes lays upon yours, shattering you into pieces

You never thought how hard it’s been on him to hide all of this or his reasons. You lean over to him placing your head on his chest. Playing with his fingertips. “It’s okay Zion, I understand now, I’m sorry for blowing up on you” his lips pressed on your head while his fingers caressed your waist. Your eyes slowly getting heavier and heavier before you could even hear his response. You dozed off, all the tears and alcohol felt like a melatonin. Zion took this opportunity to sneak a picture of his view to post on Instagram for the world to see. Showing you off was something he always dreamed off and right now seemed like the perfect time. “No mamas I’m sorry, but I’ll show you better than I can say it”

The next morning you woke up to your phone constantly blowing up by notifications, frowning you grab your phone deciding to put it on do not disturb until you see prettymuch fan account names liking and commenting on your posts, taking you on stories, your twitter was blowing up. Opening up Instagram you see Zion has tagged you in a post, smiling at his efforts you like the picture.

130,468 likes

zionkuwonu: I'll never diss you and I'll kiss you on your little pearl.

Maybe the talk needed to happen to move onto bigger things, before you could repost it to your story, The door swings up with Zion smiling bigger than his heart holding a teddy bear in one hand and roses and a self care basket the other. Sitting up against the headboard you accept them feeling the water build up in your eyes. “You’re right mamas, you deserve more” he leans over laying soft pecks against your lips. “And I will always give you more” his lips connect to yours again.

“So face mask night and a movie?” You squeak caressing his jawline

“It’s whatever you want to do babygirl” he mumbles, before taking another picture of you with the gifts.

You were now his official girl.

[fuwafuwamedb]

The Rayshift Thefts Pt 4 (Rin, Cu Chulainn)

Thus far: 1, 2, 3

___

She hadn’t known what to make of the room she was in.

To be fair though, she hadn’t really had many options when Cu Chulainn had appeared out of nowhere and plucked her from her home. The servant had yanked her to this place and had tended to her wounds. She had to have a reason for being here, but the thought that someone had cared for her enough to rush to her rescue as she lay dying had been a fantasy that she hadn’t dared contemplate.

With each time she opened her eyes to a new day, she had expected to find herself in a situation. She kept waiting for that other shoe to drop and the servant’s master to appear before her. It was the reason that Cu Chulainn was hiding her here, wasn’t it?

How long could they live in this limbo?

She didn’t know what to think of him.

Cu Chulainn tended to her each and every day. He carried her straight over to the sitting area in his room and pulled her book after book on runecraft and gem magecraft. The books were new to her, she didn’t mind spending the morning reading while he went to work. She tried a few things out as well, careful about her mana output with the condition she was in.

Her wounds were closing. Her energy was growing.

With each passing day, Rin found herself feeling more recovered than before. Her hands buried into the servant’s blue hair, brushing it back from his face and braiding it carefully behind him.

“Think you can handle a bath?”

Rin looked up at him, biting her lip. “I’m not sure. Reaching for things-“

“Nah, I’ll join ya.”

“You’ll… You’ll what?’

The man grinned, leaning in.

“No.”

“I sleep next to you every night. I don’t think a bath will do any harm.”

“I sleep with clothes on.”

“There’s nothing under those clothes that’ll surprise me. Come on, you’ll like cleaning up. I’ve had you cooped up too long in here.”

His hand was held out.

It wasn’t like she had a lot of options. Either he would be carrying her to her doom or carrying her to a bath. Cleaning up wouldn’t be bad, considering that her hair felt greasy and her body wasn’t in much better shape from having bandages regularly changed.

Rin placed her hand slowly into the man’s hand, placing her trust into the servant again.

He had talked about saving her before.

Either he had a great imagination for saving people or he had actually managed to save her life in some alternate place and time. In his mind, it seemed he was some kind of great hero.

Hero…

It made her think of that fool. To think, she had imagined getting close to Shirou when she had been alive. For some reason, she had actually dared to think about her sister’s love in such an awful manner. Despite his talk about some kind of hero after the war, she had actually started to think of him like that. She had believed him to be something like that for Sakura…

But it was hard to think about him doing anything like this.

Shirou was an infant compared to packed steel of Cu Chulainn’s grip. His face was a baby’s cherub cheeks compared to the carefully sculpted jawline on Cu Chulainn. The smiles that Shirou had held had been dorky, sheepish and innocent. There wasn’t anything in that head of his, just air and the faint whistling of wind.

“Alright,” Cu Chulainn grinned, pushing a door open and entering the large baths. “I went and drew this bath before comin’ to get ya so it should be cool enough now for bathing in.”

The man set her down on the water’s edge, standing up and reaching under his arms. The soft clicking of clasps could be heard. His shoulderplates came off first. His arms reached down, pulling the top of his blue armor off.

“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Rin covered her eyes, turning away.

Hadn’t he said this was her bath?! What was he-

Something else fell to the floor.

She wasn’t going to do this. It was a large bath, sure, but she wasn’t going to be taking such a bath with someone else around. Especially not him; her sanity didn’t need the memory of this-

A pair of arms were wrapping around her body.

As she tensed, she could feel the buttons at the front of the large shirt she had on being undone. The sound of water could be heard, with someone entering.

“Cu-“

Rin gasped, feeling her body yanked under. Clothes and all, she smacked at Cu only to find him pulling her deeper and deeper into the baths.

“DAMN IT, CU!”

The man laughed, pressing his forehead to hers. His arms released her waist, pulling lightly at her shirt and throwing the soaked thing to the side of the baths.

“You’re the worst.”

“That’s nonsense and you know it.” The man simply glowed, those eyes glinting as he moved closer to her, his head the only thing above water. “Feels damn good, doesn’t it?”

“I prefer to take my baths alone.”

She preferred them without her underwear on as well. She was already in this too deep. He seemed like he was just looking at her from the chin up.

Well, more than anything, she just didn’t want to be wearing her panties in the water. It was awkward. She reached under, carefully and slowly pulling the scrap of fabric off and attempting to throw them out.

Attempting, because she didn’t make it.

Cu laughed, following after the scrap of black fabric.

“It’s not that funny,” she growled.

“It’s cute,” he threw her direction, throwing the panties to where her shirt had been. “And nah, it ain’t the funniest, but you’re injured. You’re not gonna be throwin’ things far right now. Give yourself a couple weeks and I’m sure you’ll be pounding me into the following weeks if I try this.”

She would. Rin nodded to him at that thought.

Moving carefully to one of the sides, she found a nice nesting place for the time being. The bath was large and it was warm. The steam rising up was a good distraction from her company, but even more, she liked the new space. It was good to leave Cu Chulainn’s room for once.

The man moved in the waters, coming closer. She could hear him splash a bit to her left, but she could see he was finding a nice resting place near her.

She’d been thinking about Shirou before, but now it was only that much more obvious the differences between the boy and this servant.

Cu’s hair was falling around his face, loose and unbound around his shoulders. His face was sharper, angled with sculptor’s careful attention. The muscles of his arms had her jealous, the blue hairs on his chest were drawing her attention to the waterline.

The water was covered in suds and was opaque enough that she couldn’t see below, but…

He was a strong servant. In appearance and most likely in general. His master had multiple servants, but she used him often. She knew enough about him to know that his talents were second to none. Guts talent that allowed him to escape death, dodge that allowed blows to miss him, a heal set of runes that he would pull from time to time to cure ailments and recover his strength; that was who she had needed to summon.

To think, she’d wanted saber.

“You know, it’s a bit hypocritical to get after me for lookin’ at ya and then doing the same thing to me.” Those red eyes glanced over to her, smirk playing on his lips before she sunk deeper into the waters.

“…You’re here with me.”

“Yeah, I’m certainly that.”

There was no missing the smile that was on his lips, adding a note to his voice. She could feel his hand pat at her head a little, his arm pulling her carefully to his side.

“Feels damn good, don’t it?”

She didn’t dare say anything, her hands far too close to his chest now. She was too close to him. It wasn’t good for her to be near him like this. In bed was one thing, she could pull a pillow or the blankets closer and take in his warmth, but here she couldn’t do that. Here, in the baths, it was only water between them, but not enough for her peace of mind. The bubbles and the gurgling waters were doing little to help.

It wasn’t good in general to be around one person all the time. That was another problem with this whole thing. Spending all this time with Cu Chulainn, wasting the days away with books and stories and warmth- it had her thinking about whether or not she had actually lived through the wounds around her waist to begin with. Had Sakura killed her successfully?

“You alright?”

The man was moving, shifting to meet her hands beneath the water. He tilted her head up to look at him.

“The wounds hurting?”

“No… no, they’re fine.”

“If they’re bleedin’, then we can pull you out and rewrap them. I figured I’d let you soak out some of the stiffness. I was asking my caster self about it earlier during a good training time and he seemed to think it’d be a good idea, but if your wounds are still weak-“

“I’m fine, Cu. I’m fine.” Rin shook her head… then paused. “…Your caster self?”

“Yeah, there’s four of me here. Five if you include the little mini shithead of a beast.”

“How is there four?”

“Eh,” the man shrugged. “Servants can be from a series of classes and a lot of times converge here. I’ve got a Caster, a Berserker, the little one I mentioned before, then there’s my younger self. The earlier three should be fine, but if Proto gets near ya, you tell him to go away.”

“Why?”

“He’s a terrible flirt.”

She couldn’t help but to snort at that.

“He is. You should see him. It’s ridiculous.” The man leaned back, shaking his head. “Caster’s pale. Handles runes and shit a lot. Proto’s got a problem with doin’ his hair. You’ll note half his damn hair hangs over his forehead.”

“Like yours?”

“Mine ain’t that bad.”

Rin nodded, trying to remain stoic.

“Then you’ve got Berserker. He’s… well, he doesn’t have quite the personality you love in yours truly, but he’s alright. Does the job, you know? Sometimes it ain’t about how the problem gets resolved, so long as it does.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Runes over the body. Dark hood, skin burned slightly from the runecraft and grail shit he had to go through. You’ll know him if you ever see him. He doesn’t trust easily so I’d keep my distance if I were you.”

“I don’t trust easily either.”

“You seem to trust me.”

She didn’t trust easily, but he had been different. She didn’t know how to even begin to express her reasoning. The man leaned in, brushing a bit of her hair behind her ear. Looking into those red eyes, it was getting harder and harder to guard herself from trouble.

He always explained. He was always upfront about what was going on and about his rationale for things.

Never was there a moment of ulterior motives. The longer she was here with him, lingering in this limbo of a place, the more she found herself unable to push the man away. The drinks last night had been a moment where she’d been sure something would happen, but he’d carried her to bed, as he’d done every night.

Cu Chulainn didn’t think that far ahead. He was so grounded in the present.

“Cu,” Rin closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.”

“Heal.”

“After that,” she argued. “I can’t hide in your room forever. As nice as it is, I’ll keep growing older and older. If you end up getting injured in one of your battles and can’t make it back, how would I even know?”

“Hold on-“

“And if one of your other selves came in, they wouldn’t know me, would they?”

Now that she was thinking about it, one of them would have come around if they knew about her, wouldn’t they? Cu was close enough to her. She would have learned about the others by them coming into the room and staying with her when Lancer was away. She would have already known about the flirt or the rune-ridden Cu Chulainn if they knew her.

“This is dangerous for you,” Rin pointed out. “You told me that your master doesn’t know that I’m here. If that’s the case, then if she found out that I was here and commanded you to kill me, then-“

His lips found hers.

Stealing away the words from her lips, Rin found him pulling her closer, pulling her onto his lap. Her body felt warm, her head spinning as she tried to fight the molten feeling roaring to life within her and think about the situation at hand. There were too many dangers. She didn’t want to see him die. She didn’t want to die by his hand even more.

The sobering thought was doing little with the man holding her against himself and tilting his head. She couldn’t help the sound that escaped her lips, her hands balling to fists as she pressed them to his chest.

“Cu,” she breathed, pulling back for air. “Cu, this is serious.”

“There’s another servant here,” he murmured. “We have an agreement. If he reveals you’re here or allows anyone to find out, then I tell about his woman that he’s got here.”

“That doesn’t solve anything. That just makes the stakes higher. If his woman is found-“

“I’ll talk to my master.”

Rin pulled back a little more, wincing at her wounds.

“You need those wounds look at by the doctors here,” Cu pointed out. “You’re healing, but it can’t hurt to be looked at. Gudako’s a strange master, but she won’t turn away a friend when one comes along. Especially if I introduce ya.”

It was too risky.

Despite being one of the smarter options, it was a risk she wasn’t sure about.

“I’ve wanted to be your servant ever since I saw you on the roof of your school, lookin’ into the spells that Caster had placed on the top of the building.” His hands were stroking at her face. “There’s nothin’ I want to do more than to tell Gudako to let me be yours.”

She had to look away from him. She had to try to get a moment of air, but his hands were brushing at her hair, turning her attention back to him.

The steam was messing with her senses.

It was the heat in the room that was drawing her to him. It was the warmth and the comfortable atmosphere that was making her fall under these languid kisses. That was the only reason she could think for why her usual control and her strength to push him away was gone. It was the only reason she could think for why she was losing herself in gentle caresses and soft murmurs that seemed to be hidden away in their bath together.

Somehow, in some strange way of theirs, she found that she was washed up and her body pampered in that bath area. A new set of bandages was around her waist, her body wrapped in a large towel as he carried her back to his room.

She was in another of his shirts, curled up amongst the furs of his bed.

The conversations were gone, but the distance between them was much the same.

Whatever she’d felt before this place, before she had run into this guy, it was nothing. She’d only had a whisper of whatever this warmth was that was filling her under his long and deep kisses. He didn’t try to do anything more, thank god for that.

She could barely think with his lips pressing to her neck and her face. The feel of his lips against her own had her toes curling.

She’d summoned the wrong servant for her war.

Cu Chulainn was the only person in the entire universe right now that she could trust to care for her.

Everyone else had forgotten her. Everyone but him.