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cultofcreatures · 1 year ago

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My Top 15 Vaporwave Horror Movies

I thought I would put together a list of vaporwave/dreamcore/liminal aesthetic horror movies that I find to feel outside of time and space. That's sort of my vibe here on tumblr, and I also like the mantra of "if there's something you want to see that no one has made yet, make it yourself." These are films that I personally love, and the list not meant to be definitive. Remember also that art is subjective. I hope someone out there finds at least one film they want to add to their watchlist! It's been a minute since I've seen some of them, so let me know if I need to correct something.

15. Mandy (2018)

I wish I could add pictures for all of these entries, but I can still only add 10 pictures to a post blah. It's such a shame because I wanted to show off that gorgeous aesthetics of all these films. Oh well. This is a revenge flick about a cult kidnapping Nick Cage's girlfriend and him losing his marbles about it. Definitely recommend if you're the mood for vibes and/or Nick Cage NickCageing.

TW: violence, blood, fire

14. Come True (2020)

This is a haunting, fantastic vibes movie. It feels so otherworldly. It's about a homeless young person participating in a sleep study to be able to safely get some sleep. It would be an almost perfect film if it weren't for the just garbage ending. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, just skip the last 5 minutes, and take it for what the rest of the film is: beautiful.

13. Braid (2018)

This film follows a couple of young drug dealers on the run from their supplier crashing at a mentally unwell friend's house. The catch is they have to play along with their host's unhinged "game" while they hide out. Not gonna lie, this film is trippy af and definitely not for everyone. I can guarantee that no matter what, it is a ride.

TW: heavy drug use, blood

12. Perfect Blue (1997)

A pop star retires to become a full-time actor, which angers some of her fans. Her sense of reality becomes warped when one obsessive fan begins to stalk her. I don't love some of the turns this movie takes when it comes to mental health, but it's hard to deny this film is classic that has stunning animation.

TW: negative depictions of mental disorders, violence, blood

11. Skinamarink (2022)

This controversial found footage movie is sort of hard to describe because it's so otherworldly. Basically, two kids wake up one night to find their dad and all of their doors and windows are missing. Everything about this nostalgic yet terrifying film is vibes and aesthetic: liminal, vaporwave, voidcore, dreamcore, you name it. It feels like a fever dream, and it's a nightmarish journey you won't soon forget, for better or worse.

10. Vivarium (2019)

A couple are looking for a home to share. They follow a strange realtor to an even stranger labyrinthine neighborhood that seems to have no escape. If you're into liminal spaces, this film will definitely scratch that itch for you.

9. Revenge (2017)

This is a r*pe revenge tale that has absolutely beautiful scenery and cinematography. I love the sweeping liminal landscapes and vibrant vaporwave colors. It's a standard plot as far as the genre goes, but it's directed by a woman, so it has a different angle that I find to be superior to most films of the genre.

TW: violence, gore, SA, blood

8. Don't Worry Darling (2022)

A 1950s housewife begins to suspect that something about her utopian community is not what it seems. This film seems to be a bit controversial, too, for some reason. Whatever the case may be, I adore the liminality and dreamy feel of this film. You really get a sense that this world is outside of time and space.

7. It Follows (2014)

This film is straight up about a sexually transmitted curse. Jay sleeps with her boyfriend for the first time, and then finds out she must outpace this demon that can take the shape of anyone forever lest it kill her, or she must pass the curse on to someone else. The shots in this film are to die for. Especially for connoisseurs of the liminal, vaporwave, and dreamcore. Highly recommend for the visuals and music alone.

TW: gore, blood

6. House (1977)

Gorgeous decides to stay with her aunt to hopefully get closer with a group of six of her friends. The girls come to find her aunt's house is more than meets the eye. The visuals and absurdity are what make this movie. It's a classic for a reason.

TW: cartoon gore

5. Akira (1988)

Tetsuo gains psychic abilities via a secret military project and becomes mad with power. It's up to his friends and a small group of psychics to stop him. This is another classic anime. Its 1980s futuristic mentality really lends itself to the vaporwave atmosphere of the cityscape. I highly recommend this classic if you haven't seen it.

TW: violence, body horror

4. Censor (2021)

Enid is a serious film censor with a shrouded past that includes her long-missing sister. She watches a film that bears eerie resemblance to her vague childhood memories that begin to take hold of her as tries to piece them together. I don't think I'm totally clear on when this film takes place, which is what I love about it. It has a spooky surreal quality that will both draw you in and unsettle you.

TW: violence, blood

3. She Dies Tomorrow (2020)

Amy is convinced she is going to die tomorrow. Her friend Jane comes by to comfort her, and then becomes consumed by the thought she will die tomorrow as well. This film is as strange as it is beautiful. It will either leave you in tears or confused af or both.

TW: blood

2. The Neon Demon (2016)

Jesse is a very young, gifted model who is new in town (probably LA). She quickly signs with an agent and begins getting gigs, breeding the contempt of the established models around her. This is probably one of the most visually appealing films I've ever seen. The music is on point. The low key acting is a vibe. I just adore this film. 10/10, highly recommend.

TW: gore, blood

1. The Platform (2019)

A man wakes up in a prison that is an indescribable liminal pit where there are a seemingly never-ending number of levels. A platform full of food is lowered through each level once a day, and everyone on the lower levels must fight to survive. This film is just so utterly anticapitalist and gorgeous that I can't help but sing its praises. I think everyone should watch this movie at least once. It is horrifying yet eye-opening. Certainly one of my favorite films of all time.

TW: gore, violence, blood

Thank you for reading my list! Like I said, I wanted to make a list like this because I couldn't find one when I went looking. I hope you found something to add to your watchlist! I tried to include some of the big TWs for these movies, but they're far from complete lists. So please check websites like doesthedogdie.com for more complete TW lists if you have any concerns. Make decisions that are right for you. Thanks again, and have a happy and safe new year! xx

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brideofdiscord-rewritten · 1 year ago

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Bride of Discord Chapter 9: The Spark

Discord observed distantly at the Pegasus Fluttershy as she fed her animals. The view was only slightly warped in the strange glass, like it had cooled in the middle of the pour, with ripples and silly colors. He had distanced himself, as his presence disturbed the critters. Unsurprisingly.

Besides this, he He was fascinated by how well she was able to tame every creature, calming them down and nuzzling them. The fur that connected to her feathers housed small lizards and baby birds. Even the large bear posed no threat to her. She even allowed it to lick her. mane.

How did she do it? How could she be so kind that even the fiercest of creatures were enchanted by her? Ironically enough, that was exactly what he thought of her: enchanting. Magical. She treated him the way she did not because she was afraid of him, he knew that for sure.

He shook his head. His lips made flapping noises and his eyes rolled around like marbles. "What's happening to me?

His reflection responded, "You're turning into a sap, and all for that wimpy pegasus!"

"Hey!" Discord exclaimed, glaring at the mirror. "Don't talk about her that way!"

"See? You've even stooped so low as to defend her honor! You've fallen for your own act!" His reflection scratched at his horn and it fell off.

"I have not! I just…" he twiddled his fingers, "happen to find my fiancé…slightly attractive. What's wrong with that? S'what a husband's supposed to do!"

"What's wrong?! You've never found any pony attractive in your life! Even if you were to start, why would it be this pony? I mean look at her!"

Discord glanced back out the window. "Yeah, so?

"She's just so…flawless! There's not an ounce of discord in her! She's just so…so…"

The draconequus sighed dreamily. "Perfect."

The reflection's wings fell off.

"Exactly! She's too perfect! You have to change her! Turn her hair green or something!"

"whatEVER, she's not even perfect. She gets nervous very easy, she has eye bags, she curls her upper lip weird, shes so strange but she carries herself in such a way- I like some differences!"

"Ugh!" the reflection growled. "Listen to yourself! Where is your pride?!"

"Oh, shut up! I have a fiance because I'm so powerful!"

The reflection's beard fell off.

"she's the opposite of you!"

"that's the cool part- thats what makes it CHAOTIC!"

He waved his hand and draped a blanket over the mirror then turned his attention back to Fluttershy. He had to get closer, but he did not want to frighten her. So he perched on a tree branch just a few feet away, scaring a few birds in the process. His grin widened. She certainly was more interesting up close. But of course, to sit and watch felt eerie even to himself.

"Hold still, Angel Bunny," she said in her sweet voice as she fluffed the rabbit's tail. "There. All done." She lowered herself onto the plush grass. Zoysia, or Raleigh st. Augustine.

The rabbit leapt into her hooves and cuddled her. Discord's heart fluttered as he heard her giggle for the first time. That's so wacky! Ponies are satisfied so easily.

"Yes, I missed you too. I needed some lighthearted sass."

Angel then pulled away and yapped something that made Fluttershy frown.

"Oh, you see…I made a deal with him and…we're getting married."

As the other animals heard this, they made frantic noises. She tried to calm them down.

"Yes, yes, I know, he doesn't appear very friendly…"

Discord was starting to regret bringing those animals.

"But…he's not as bad as you think."

This made his eyes widen. The animals screamed in protest.

"No, really," Fluttershy assured them. "He hasn't really done anything to me yet…though I will admit, he still scares me a little…but he did bring you all here, and that makes me happy."

She then started singing to the birds, who sang in response. Discord closed his eyes as he listened to that sweet, melodic voice of hers. Never had he ever heard a sound so beautiful, so perfect, much like the pony it came from. He would have listened to it all day had the branch not given way beneath him. He let out a cry as he hit the ground, frightening the animals and causing them to scatter. Fluttershy shrieked and spun around. Her terror faded once she saw the draconequus' state.

"Goodness, are you hurt?" she asked, flying over to him.

He flinched as she lightly touched his paw.

"Oh, don't worry about me," he said, getting up. "I'm fine."

Fluttershy glanced up at the broken limb. "Were you spying on me?"

"No! Well, I was in the tree, but I wasn't watching you!" He grinned sheepishly. "You see…I didn't want to disturb you, and…sorry I scared your animals off."

She sighed. "Well, as long as you're here, care to help me feed the animals? There's so many of them you see and it's getting late…"

She pointed at the sky turning orange and pink from the sunset. The clouds looked like fish scales and shimmered their droplets of water like pearls. It had just rained and the rainbows shining off the clouds reminded them of the gems on the castle.

"Sure, I can take care of it!" he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Done! Now how about some dinner?"

Fluttershy's stomach growled at the mention of food. "Come to think of it, I haven't eaten much today… I nearly ate some of my bird's seeds earlier on accident."

With another snap of his fingers, a picnic blanket appeared beneath them, along with that came frozen daiquiris into two glasses. Discord offered her a glass. She spaced the small sips she took.

"no need, it's non alcoholic."

Still suspicious, she accepted the glass and took a sip. He had told the truth.

"So I take it you're enjoying the garden?" he inquired.

"Oh, yes," Fluttershy said with a smile. "Thank you again, but…" She looked up. "Some of the birds were flying, but something stopped them when they got too high."

"I didn't want them to leave you, that'd be rude!"

She stared at him with distressed eyes. "So the animals…are trapped here…like me?"

Seeing her smile disappear, Discord realized he had made a mistake and had to correct it. He gently lifted her chin.

"Cheer up, my dear. They're here with you. Isn't that all that matters?"

"I suppose," she replied, still not smiling.

He had to get that smile back, so he snapped his fingers and made a frosted carrot cake appear. Fluttershy's mouth dropped open.

"How did you…?"

"I told you," he stated simply. "I had nothing to do for three years but spy on you ponies. It was only natural that I find out a few things."

He summoned a cake cutter to cut her a slice of the cake and placed it on a smaller plate.

"What about dinner?" she asked.

"I'm sure we can break the rules a teensy bit," he smirked.

As she took the plate, a fork materialized in her hoof, Discord grinned as her smile returned. That is, until he realized she had no possible way of using it. She simply dipped her head and bit out of the slice.

"This is the best carrot cake I've ever tasted!" she declared.

"Only the best for my bride!" Discord said, taking a slice of cake himself.

Fluttershy blushed but then looked at him seriously. "Why were you spying on me, anyway? Just now, I mean."

"I wasn't spying, I was…observing. After all, you are a…interesting subject to watch."

She said nothing and stared down at her hooves, her face turning red.

"I wasn't lying, you know, when I said you were beautiful."

She looked away. "T-thank you, but…I'm not that... Comfortable with that."

"Oh, don't be so modest, my dear!" He tilted her head toward him. "You are a natural beauty, and that's saying a lot, coming from me. Usually when I see something so perfect I don't like it. But maybe it's because you're different."

Fluttershy moved from his claw and looked at the grass. "Not really. I mean…I was a model for a short while…"

His eyes widened. "Really? I mean, sure, you have the look, but…with that posture??"

She clutched her pearls in mock indignation.

"that's not at all why I quit! I couldn't handle all the attention and I had less time for my friends."

"Oh, I see…"

"See what?" She turned back to him to see a mischievous, disconcerting look on his face. "Discord, w-what are you…?"

She squealed as he attacked her with a hug. She kicked her legs frantically

"Discord, let me go!"

"What's the matter?" he taunted. "Can't handle all the attention I'm giving you?"

"N-no, I…" She trailed off as he ran his claw across her back. Then she started giggling. "T-that…he he…stop that…he he…tickles!"

This was his first time hearing her laugh, and it was captivating.

"Ha-ha! Please! I have to…ha-ha…finish my cake!"

"Oh, alright."

Discord sighed as he released her, only to have her tackle him over.

"Wait…what are you…? Ha-HA-HA-HA-HA!"

She was using her feathers to tickle him in return. However, she did not have the advantage of size. He snatched her up before she could get to the real torture.

"Nice try, you devious little thing!" he exclaimed. The rocking ceased and they pulled away from each other. "So in conclusion, I don't play."

Fluttershy giggled. "Understand."

He gently set her down. "You know? You should laugh more often. Laughter becomes you well."

She blushed and then realized that was the first time she had belly laughed with someone is weeks. heck, maybe even a month.

"Thanks for walkin' me home, Spike." Applejack said when they reached the edge of the farm. "And thanks again for helpin' me with the critters. Even though it didn't turn out so well, it was still mighty big of ya."

After they had finished eating, Fluttershy was getting tired. She had been unable to sleep with everything going on, so she decided to retire early. When she entered her room, she looked in the mirror on the vanity, examining her face and hair. No matter how many ponies called her beautiful she felt like an outsider looking in at a conversation. They weren't complimenting her, they liked her face.

"Anything for you, AJ," the dragon said with a smile.

She lowered her head and tucked her face back behind her hat. He skipped and flounced so lovingly. She wondered how betrayed he'd feel when he realized that two of his first best friends stole away his first love. Not that he could've had a chance to date her, but what an unfortunate way to realize your situation.

The last pony she wanted to see zoomed past her, unwaveringly hovering over her like a wraith in the night. Then, her features peeked through the black lace sheet of night.

Applejack was about to say something when Rainbow Dash smiled and her words caught in her throat.

"I was lookin' for you! Rarity asked me to come over, and I want you to come with!"

"Aw shucks, talk about'a wingpony!"

"You know I gotchu! Besides, you just make sleepovers more... Uhh.."

She noticed the farm mare's tentative gaze. She actually listened to her, and considered it. It didn't help Rainbow's flow of thought that the ponys eyes seemed to glow when she blushes. Illuminating her smile were street lights, showcasing her bonny beautiful smile lines. Her teeth were slightly crooked, but rainbow had hyperdontia anyways-

"Dash? Shug? The sleepovers?"

"right! You make em' more fun! All of us are different and we mesh WAY too well. Anyways, I gotta hot date, and she's YOUR marefriend!"

Rainbow was chased playfully by the draft pony, after all her head cleared when she flew.

Fluttershy woke up with a scream. Discord flew through her thick doors in the moments following.

"What is it?! What's wrong?!"

She sighed in relief. "Nothing. It was a bad dream."

"Oh." Discord blushed in embarrassment. "My bad, I just thought…

"That I was in danger?" she finished.

She had to admit that was awfully sweet of him.

"Yes, but you're not, I see. So I'll just be going…"

"Wait! Could you, um…stay for a little bit?"

He stared at her, and then clapped his hands, turning the lights on. He sat on the edge of the bed.

"So this nightmare," he said, "what was it about?"

Fluttershy was about to tell him, but then remembered who she was talking to and hid her face under the covers. Discord was confused by this reaction. Then he recalled something and frowned.

"Was it about…me?"

She peered out at him. "How did you…?"

"You mentioned it to your friends."

She hid her face again in shame. "I'm really sorry, I…

"Tell me."

"What? Why?"

She was hesitant at first, but the beans had been spilt. She told him how it was the same every night: he would hold her, chuckle darkly, whisper horrible things in her ear, and sometimes turn her into her discordant self again. It stung him.

"Is that how you see me?" he asked, with hurt behind the mask of his bright eyes.

"I…I…"

"Please, I…I don't know why I keep dreaming it. I'm not scared of... You, in front of me."

When he gazed into those pleading eyes, his coldness dissolved. He could not leave her in this state.

"Alright," he said with a sigh. "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep.

She smiled in thanks. "I'm not really sure if I can go to sleep now."

"How about I help you?"

"Sure, but what…?"

With a snap of his fingers, they found themselves sitting on top of a cloud high above the castle.

"Whyd you do that?" Fluttershy asked.

"It's a clear night," Discord said, lounging onto his back. "I thought we could have a look at the stars."

"no- well not no, but why did you teleport us? We can both fly."

"works up a sweat!" Suddenly as she looked at him he wore an outfit similar to the actress and activist, Mane Fonda. only, in the 80's.

"They're beautiful," she marveled.

"Yeah." Discord muttered. She raised an eyebrow at him. "I can admire pretty lights!" He continued to look at the ones reflecting in the pools of her eyes rather than the ones in space.

"You know Twilight could name all the stars and planets and constellations?" she said. "Every single one of them!"

Her smile wavered at the thought of her friend. Discord saw this and knew he had to distract her.

"The stars are rather boring when they're stuck on the sky like that, aren't they?"

He waved his paw and Fluttershy gasped as the stars moved into the shape of a butterfly.

"Does that count as your confines?"

"if it isn't, I got lots of paperwork to do."

Fluttershy watched as the astral butterfly flapped its wings against the night sky and floated in circles. "Well…it is kind of…neat…"

Discord laughed triumphantly as the smile returned to her face. "See? My chaos can be useful."

"you've done more useful stuff than that. Just, for your reasons."

He grinned and made writing motions with his claw, using the stars to spell out a message. Fluttershy's eyes grew to the size of frying pans as she read it: Do you love me? Check Yes or No. Underneath, he drew two boxes marked 'Yes' and 'No.'

When she turned to him, he had that excited look on his face. He handed her his glowing claw, still pointing towards the sky. She glanced between him and the message, and then finally took the claw and drew a check in the second box.

Discord shrugged, still half smiling. "Creative, eh? I'm getting good at this."

...

"I-I'm really sorry, but…I just don't…feel that way about you yet…"

"No, it's okay!" he said quickly.

But it was not okay. She had rejected him before, but for some reason, it hurt this time.

He stiffened as he felt something nuzzle against him. He glanced down to see the pegasus curling up to him.

"But I'm willing to accept you as a friend," she said softly.

It was as if a string were pulled inside his chest. "Friend?"

"Why, of course. I think it's only fair."

He did not know what to say. "Oh…well, I've…never really had a friend before. i should rework the sign."

The stars now read: Do you wanna be my friend And if you do, Well then don't be afraid to take me by the hand If you want to. I think this is how love goes. Check yes or no.

"Huhuhuh, I stole that."

"Never?"

"What do you think?"

She nuzzled closer to him. "Well, now you do. And I'm sorry."

He blinked. "For what?"

"I was wrong about you. You're not a monster."

She closed her eyes and snuggled into his fur. Discord stared at her in awe, not believing that such a pony could exist. Not only was she beautiful beyond belief, but she was kind enough to even care for him. Even if she had not given him what he had expected, the idea of having a friend made his heart explode. Who knew I even had a heart?

She mumbled. "Well, you might be. But I like monsters then."

He stuck out his claw unsurely and began to stroke her mane. Fluttershy opened her eyes and looked up at him. He retracted his claw, not sure why he was suddenly so hesitant.

"Sorry, I…do you mind?"

She stared at him for a moment and then smiled. "No, it's okay." She flipped onto her belly and closed her eyes. "Go ahead, so long as you don't tickle me again."

He chuckled as he sat up, leaning on his arm. "Don't worry, my dear. I'll be gentle."

Not wasting a second of this opportunity, he placed his paw on the top of her head and slowly ran his fingers through her mane. He sighed internally at the softness of her hair and Fluttershy was once again surprised at his tender touch. His raptor talons now used to graze her scalp ever so gently, like a large bumblebee on a small flower.

The sleep she was lulled in was one discord was hesitant to cut short. So of course he didn't. He lie close to her, feeling her heart beating, and wondered if it was him she dreamed of. Thank Celestia they were together, he just wanted to stay in this moment forever.

So he curled his body around her, like a dragon guarding its treasure. He continued to stare at her face, so it would be the last thing he would see before drifting off to sleep himself. He didn't want to sleep though, he could've spent the whole night just hearing her breathing. Watching her smile while she slept. Despite his droopy lids, he didn't wanna miss a thing.

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honey-dewey · 4 years ago

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The Prince’s Dogs

Pairing: Oberyn Martell/Reader

Word Count: 4,171

Warnings: None!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Upon leaving your small village and getting a job in Dorne working for the two princes of Sunspear, you had no idea how much you’d miss one very small yet very pivotal part of your life. The rain. However, being the dog trainer for Prince Oberyn might beat the rain. Might.

A/N: Have I watched Game of Thrones? Nope! But I’ve started reading the books and read a bit of book 3 with Oberyn, so that’s what this is based off of. Oops.

Of all the things you missed about home, the rain was what you missed most. Dorne was a fine kingdom with ample sun and the intoxicating smell of salt in the air. But rain was scarce this far south in Sunspear, and you longed for a day where the skies opened and wept, showering the earth.

But the rain was something you could not have, so you settled for a life many would envy. A position in the Dornish palace, dressed in fine clothes rather than your worn out linens. You dearly missed your old home, with the smell of wet dirt and the muddy ground beneath your bare feet, but when your parents had passed, you needed to leave, finding work and income to keep yourself alive.

And you’d found it. You were a servant for the Martell family, although you rarely saw your masters. Doran was always busy, and his younger brother was typically nowhere to be found when he was needed. You’d never met Elia, but the stories were prominent, even to your people. Anyone south of King’s Landing knew all too well the story of Elia Martell.

The Martells treated their servants well. When you’d arrived, they’d put you to work immediately in the kitchens, scrubbing copper kitchenware until your hands were red. The woman who oversaw your work was impressed. Apparently most ended their days with bloodied fingertips. You’d told her you worked with animals day in and day out where you’d come from, and your hands were well prepared for harsh conditions. However, despite the grind, you wore soft clothes. A linen shirt you’d refused to give up, brown pants, and a deep yellow robe you often never wore. You were built for the cold, and Dorne was hot as an oven. A robe would only serve to boil you alive.

You sighed, scrubbing a large cooking pot and dunking it under the water again. Your face was finally legible in the surface, warped and coppery, but legible nonetheless. You hung it to dry alongside the other pots you’d cleaned, turning back yet again to the pile of dirty dishes. You were elbow deep in soapy water when someone exclaimed, “My Prince! I did not see you there!”

“It’s fine my dear,” a honeyed voice said, thick with a Dornish accent. “I did not mean to scare you.”

Hanging another pot, you finally turned to see your visitor.

Prince Oberyn Martell stood by the fire, the flames dancing in his onyx eyes. He smiled at you, and you felt yourself flush. “And this must be the one who keeps my dogs. I’d recognize those hands anywhere.”

You nodded. Once she’d learned you worked dogs in your past, your overseer assigned you to keep the prince’s dogs when you weren’t busy. He had five, all of whom were slender and fast and well trained thanks to you. All the dogs sat by your feet during meals solely because you fed them scraps of your food, and apparently the prince had taken notice. “Yes, I am. Is there a problem with their training?”

Oberyn chuckled. “Quite the contrary, in fact. The girls are swift as ever, and have no hesitation while hunting. Tell me, how did you train them to run through rivers?”

“Food.” It was a true answer. You’d taken the dogs to a shallow pond and baited them across the water, working your way up until you were baiting them across the deepest river you could find. Compared to training dogs in pelting rain, which you had done before, training the dogs to swim fearlessly had been simple.

“Ah,” Oberyn said with a smile. “Food, of course. I suppose this means you’re also the reason Nyx and Artemis are looking a bit rounder than usual?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Your dogs are all in perfect health,” you said sternly. “And if two of your ladies are looking too well fed, then I should not be confronted, because I had nothing to do with it.” It was a blatant lie, and you both knew it.

Oberyn put his hands up. “I was merely making an observation,” he said lightly. “I’ll be leaving you to your washing up.”

You did as he left you to do, washing each dish until it shone and then heading to the doghouse. It was big as your old house back home, and all five dogs rushed to the door as you opened it.

“Hello girls!” You said eagerly, kneeling down so they could all nip at your ears and fingers. “How are we today?”

The dogs all dispersed after that. It was late and there was a warm fire, so three of the dogs curled up to sleep. Nyx and Athena stayed awake, wrestling for a toy before Athena grew bored and trotted off to sleep with her sisters. So Nyx found the next best thing to play with. You.

You wrestled Nyx for the toy, rolling around on the ground and laughing as she growled at you. You growled right back, shaking the toy and coaxing Nyx to drop it. She did, and you tossed it across the room for her to chase after. Nyx was the leader of the pack, the biggest and the oldest. Her muzzle was streaked with grey, but her black and white coat still shone with youth and her eyes sparkled when she was playing. She would always be a puppy at heart.

She returned the toy to you, and you took it. Nyx snapped her jaws at you in an attempt to take the toy, but you pulled it away quickly. “Absolutely not!” You said firmly. “We don’t snatch.” You made Nyx sit, her eyes trained on her toy the entire time. When you finally threw it again, she caught it and trotted right past you with it, dropping it obediently at the feet of her master.

You stood quickly, nearly tripping over yourself as you did so. You knew you looked a mess. Covered from head to foot in dog fur and saliva, your sleeves were still damp from washing dishes and your feet were bare, as they always were. Your hair, which you’d grown long upon arriving in Dorne, was a mess of tangles. Your morning’s braid was long gone.

But the prince didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he scratched Nyx behind the ears and tossed her toy, sending her joyously chasing after it. “I figured I’d find you here,” he said. “The guards said you liked to put the dogs to bed every night.”

You nodded, relaxing a bit as Oberyn sat on a bench and gestured you to his side. Nyx followed you, sitting practically on your feet as you sat. You absently scratched under her ornate collar, hearing her foot thump the ground as you found the sweat spot to scratch. Oberyn smiled as Nyx squirmed under your hands. “You work the girls well.”

“It was my job back home,” you admitted. “I worked the hunting dogs. They were stockier and slower than yours, but could take down anything they wanted. Training them was a task, especially during the rainy season.”

Oberyn nodded slowly. “My girls are bred for speed,” he said. “Their mother was a gift given to my sister, and she bore me my puppies.”

You tried to imagine Oberyn cradling a tiny puppy. His hands were bigger than yours, and a puppy would probably fit in his palm. “Is the mother still alive?”

“Died of age years ago,” Oberyn said. “Right after bearing Persephone’s litter.”

The beautiful dark red dog looked up when Oberyn said her name, but went back to sleep shortly after.

“And what happened to the other puppies?”

“I got pick of the litter,” Oberyn said, smoothing a hand over Nyx’s head. “And the other puppies were given to knights or to houses who’ve sworn loyalty.”

You nodded. “These five were incredibly lucky.”

Oberyn smiled. “Two of them were the youngest born, and one was a runt.”

Both of your gazes went to the dogs curled around the fire. “Was it Artemis?” The blue dog had always been smaller than her sisters, but she had never been any less impressive.

“No.” Oberyn stood, sitting cross legged beside the fire and looking warmly at his dogs. “Athena was the youngest born in her litter, but wasn’t a runt by any means. Nyx was my first dog, the biggest in her litter of course. Persephone was a middle born, and I chose her for her fighter’s spirit. Artemis, bless her, was second youngest in her litter but she was an average size. No, it was Hestia who was a runt. She was so small, we all feared she’d die in the night. I fed her myself, with a rag soaked in milk, for months.”

You nodded, sitting on the other side of the fire and stroking Hestia’s silky ears. She was the best suited for hunting, with her dark brindle pattern and keen blue eyes. “She’s a magnificent dog.”

“She is.”

For the better part of the night, you and Oberyn sat in silence around the fire until it was nothing more than embers. All the dogs were long asleep, and the only reason you didn’t join them was because the room was stiflingly hot. Oberyn looked at peace in the heat, and actually seemed surprised when you got up to sit next to the cracked window. “Are you warm?”

“I’m boiling,” you said. “Dorne is a beautiful place, but must it be so damned hot?”

“Oh? And where do you come from that would justify Dorne being hot as the ovens you work in front of?” Oberyn asked, tipping his head ever so slightly.

You tucked your feet up under your body, leaning against the windowsill and looking out across the Sea of Dorne. “I come from a place where no man rules. My people have been there for generations and will remain there for generations. The land is firm beneath our feet, it’s why we all go barefoot. We have three seasons. The winters, the summers, and the rain. Each turn, between the winters and the summers, it rains. It rains a lot. No one is ever deterred by the rain, as it’s warm, so unlike the freezing rain in the mountains. We were barely fifty houses strong when I left, but our land stretches as far as the eye can see. Flat expanses of green, and in the summers the fields bloom with every kind of flower imaginable. It is a beautiful sight, and if you travel far enough east, you can see the shadows of the Dornish Mountains.” As you spoke, you grew only more homesick, wishing you could plant your feet in the mud and breathe, just breathe in the open air. Dorne’s air smelled of ocean and fish, and you craved the wetness of the petrichor smell you’d grown up with.

Oberyn joined you by the window, looking out at the glowing moon hung high in the sky. “What would you give to return?”

“Everything.”

It was an answer that seemed to stun the youngest Martell sibling. He blinked, still gazing at the moon. “Of course,” he said softly. “Of course.”

The next day, you spent all morning in the great hall, feeding the dogs under the table and reading a book you’d bought in town. Doran and Oberyn sat at the head of the hall together, arguing, but you couldn’t hear them, nor did you care to. You merely flipped a page in your book and fed Hestia another scrap of bacon.

Halfway through your day, you were interrupted in your washing of linens by the lake. Oberyn rode up to you, two horses and all his dogs by his side. “Come.”

You stood, dusting off your pants. “Where to?” You asked. “I doubt I’ll be much use on a hunting trip.”

Oberyn handed you the reins of a horse you’d trained early in your days of working in Dorne. “I’m taking you home.”

You went eagerly after that. You may have been wary, but Oberyn was sincere enough that you trusted him. The dogs followed you, ever the obedient hunters you had trained, as you and him rode hard northward, stopping to make camp as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

“Why are you joining me?” You asked once you’d made camp. “You could’ve sent me on my way, alone.”

Oberyn considered your words, turning meat over the fire. “You fascinate me,” he finally admitted. “You want for nothing in Dorne, and yet you are more homesick than anyone I’ve ever met. You talk about your home as if there is no better place to be. I want to see if you’re right.”

You grinned. “You’ll need firmer clothes than that,” you said, gesturing to Oberyn’s ornate robe. “It’s nearly rain season. Anything that isn’t made to stand up to the water will be ruined.”

Oberyn ran the fabric through his fingers, nodding. “What should I wear?”

“There’s a town not far from my home,” you said. “We’ll find you some suitable clothes there.”

The town in question was a three day ride away. While you rode, you and Oberyn got to know each other. He talked happily about his daughters, never favoring one over the other and seeming proud to have bore them all. In return, you told him about your parents, despite both of them being deceased. He was a good listener, hardly ever interrupting. As the weather grew colder and a wet chill filled the air, you felt yourself getting more comfortable, more at home.

The town finally loomed in the distance after three days on horseback, only stopping to rest the dogs or the horses. You were familiar with everyone, happily chatting to the townsfolk while you browsed thick clothes for Oberyn. He kept the hood of a roughly made cloak over his head, concealing his identity as he watched you make decisions. Finally, you walked away with a sturdy linen shirt that matched yours, reinforced brown pants, and a thick robe that mimicked the Dornish style while also remaining functional. It didn’t fall to Oberyn’s ankles as his vibrant yellow one did, the new faded deep green one stopping just above his knee. He grumbled about the color, but you hushed him as you donned a similar coat in faded burgundy.

As you continued east, the threat of rain grew stronger. You could smell it now, the rain heavy clouds a swirl of deep blue grey on the sky. Artemis whined when a distant rumble of thunder sounded, but you hushed her gently and nudged the horse forward. “We’re not far off. We’ll beat the rain.”

You were right. The village came into view before the rain started, and you quickly ushered the five dogs and one Dornish Prince into your family’s home as warm summer rain began to fall.

Oberyn stared at the ceiling in wonder as the rain began to pound. “Will it hold?”

“It’s held for three generations,” you said, putting logs into a fireplace and looking for your flint. “It’ll continue to hold, that I can swear.”

Once you got a fire going and some food set out for the dogs, you went outside. Oberyn tried to stop you, but you ignored him, opting to stand out back of the house instead. Rain soaked you to the bone immediately, but you didn’t care. The rain was warm and comforting, like being hugged by an old friend. Your hair slicked to your head and your clothes were sticking to your skin, but you simply tipped your head to the heavens and smiled.

You were out for a surprisingly long time before Oberyn braved the rain. He shielded his eyes and stood beside you, shoulders hunched. “Are you going to come back inside? You’ll catch a chill if you stay out here much longer!”

You shook your head. “No I won’t,” you said, looking over when a crack of thunder interrupted you. “Relax Oberyn, it’s only rain.”

Eventually, Oberyn loosened, standing next to you and admiring the rain. When he spoke again, his voice was full of wonder. “You worked in these conditions?”

You nodded. “Sometimes, the rain lasts for weeks,” you said. “We need to hunt, eat, and gather, so yes. I worked in the rain a lot.”

A bell sounded in the distance, and Oberyn looked over, shielding his eyes. “What’s that?”

“Dinner!” You said eagerly, taking his hand. “Come on. You want to see what I love about home? I’ll show you.”

The dinner hall was a sturdy building, bigger than the others. People filtered in, all soaked from the rain, so yours and Oberyn’s wet state wasn’t unusual.

“The dog keeper is home!” Someone said cheerily, seeing you showing Oberyn how to quickly towel his hair dry. Immediately, people began to crowd you, hugging you and asking why you’d returned.

“Oh,” you said, squeezing water out of your coat. “Someone asked me where I came from that would justify me calling Dorne hot as an oven. I felt compelled to show him.” You looped an arm through Oberyn’s elbow, and he looked at people you’d spent your entire life surrounded by.

“Is that Prince Oberyn Martell?” Someone finally asked in a hushed tone.

You shrugged. “Maybe in Dorne he is,” you said. “But out here, he’s just Oberyn.”

Oberyn seemed grateful, and you pulled him to a table. Food was passed around, and the conversation picked up once more. With the warm fire blazing at the front of the hall and the fall of rain against the roof, you felt more at home than you’d ever been. The people around you were your age, and they pushed you for questions about Dorne.

“Oh it’s beautiful,” you said, stirring your stew and dipping your slice of bread into your bowl. “But it’s so hot! I don’t know how those Dornishmen survive the heat in their robes!”

“We’re born there,” Oberyn said, bumping elbows with you. “Unlike you, that heat is all we’ve known.”

You grinned. “I will say, they let me play with the Prince’s dogs, so it’s not all bad.”

“Play?” Oberyn said, stunned. “You trained all the dogs! Let me tell you,” he said, turning to the people around you. “I’ve never met a better dog trainer in my life. If they weren’t so insistent upon working in the kitchens, I’d have promoted them to full time animal trainer already! Lord knows our horses need the firm hand.”

The people around you began to tell Oberyn about your past while you ate, happily telling him about how you’d once trained the village dogs to hunt in the pouring rain by slathering yourself in animal fat and racing through the woods while they hunted you down during the rainy season.

“Is that what you did with my dogs?” He asked when the story was done.

You shrugged. “More or less,” you said. “I take bits of my own breakfast and bait the girls. I told you, that was how I got them to swim so fearlessly.”

Oberyn nodded. “You know you could just ask for more food if you’re going to be sacrificing your own breakfast for my dogs.”

Another shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“Did you bring the dogs?” Someone asked, and you nodded.

“Of course!” You said. “I’ll let the young ones play with them tomorrow if this rain lets up. Although, it is what I missed most.”

“The rain?” The person sitting across from you asked. “Does it not rain in Dorne?”

You sighed, mopping up the last remnants of stew with bread you’d taken from Oberyn. “Not enough,” you said wistfully. “The most it’s rained since I moved there was an hour’s worth of mild rain. And it only rains once every month! It’s hell.”

After dinner came dessert, a sweet pastry filled with oozing red berries and topped with sticky honey. It wasn’t something that was made very often, and you ate yours quickly, savoring the flavors. Oberyn was more hesitant, and was a bit more dignified. However, no amount of dignity saved him from the fruit juices dripping down his chin and you laughing at him while handing him something to wipe his face.

After all the food was eaten, you bid everyone goodbye and braved the rain yet again. It was lighter now, and the children were chasing each other around, happily shouting and playing with the sturdy village hunting dogs. There was no rush for anything, and you didn’t hurry home. Instead, you walked slowly, despite the light rain, taking in all that you’d lost when you left. Oberyn held your hand, the hood of his robe pulled up over his head. He looked at ease here.

When you reached your house, the rain was no more than a light mist, and you eagerly pulled Oberyn around back. The sun was almost gone, but the final rays soaked the land in gold, illuminating the rolling hills and picturesque plains.

“Take a deep breath,” you said softly, seeing Oberyn’s eyes go wide. “And tell me what you smell.”

Oberyn took a breath, staying silent for a moment. “I can’t describe it,” he said, voice soft with awe. “It smells like earth and water and something not of this world.”

“It’s called petrichor,” you said. “The smell of rain on dry soil.”

A delicate silence lapsed over you two, bound only by your connected hands as you watched the sun fully set. Once the sky was dark, you pulled Oberyn inside, handing him a towel so he could dry off.

“How long are we staying?” You asked, stripping out of your soaked clothes and hanging them to dry on a line.

Oberyn, who was in another room for privacy, made a small noise. “I don’t know. A week? I must return at some point.”

You smiled, pulling on a linen shift and tossing another log into the fire that the dogs were surrounding. “I agree. I suppose the girls I work with will be disappointed if I don’t return.”

Oberyn came out of the room wearing a shift identical to yours. He began to hang his clothes beside yours. “It’s nice here,” he said. “I don’t know why anyone would ever want to leave.”

“I didn’t,” you reminded him. “If I’d been able to, I would’ve stayed here all my life. But then I would’ve never met you or your dogs.”

Oberyn smiled, sitting beside the dogs and gesturing you close. You sat with him, facing the fire. Hestia woke up, set her head in your lap, and fell asleep immediately after. You stroked her ears, humming to yourself. “Thank you for bringing me back.”

“Thank you for allowing me to come along,” Oberyn replied.

As you grew more and more tired, you finally relented and stood to go to sleep. “You’re welcome to join me,” you said to Oberyn. “I apologize, but there’s only one bed.”

Oberyn stood. “It’s fine. We can share.”

You took the right side of the bed and Oneryn took the left, you giving him an extra blanket when he started to shiver. His chills never faded, and you did the only thing left. You shifted in the bed, curling up against Oberyn’s chest and wrapping your arms around his middle, giving him your body heat.

“Your Dornish blood is at a cruel disadvantage out here,” you said softly, and you felt Oberyn chuckle.

“I’ll just have to adapt,” he murmured.

The next morning, you woke to no rain and a perfectly blue sky. Oberyn stayed asleep as you got dressed, made breakfast, and let the dogs out to play with the eagerly waiting children. As Oberyn’s dogs raced off to entertain the kids, you sat beside an open window, waiting for Oberyn to wake up.

When he finally did, he sat across from you at the tiny table and slowly began to eat, blinking sleepily at you from time to time.

“Good morning sleepy head,” you said finally, once the food had all been eaten and Oberyn looked a bit more awake. “How’d you sleep?”

Oberyn looked up at you. “Great. Where are the girls?”

“Outside with the kids,” you said, pointing out the window, where you could see the dogs running around with the children. “We’ll hunt them later, but for now, let them have their fun.”

“Ah.” Oberyn nodded. “Okay. So what do we do?”

You shrugged. “Typically, I’d have been working for a while by now.”

“We could work.”

“With those hands?” You said, taking Oberyn’s hands in your own. “Your skin isn’t accustomed to my kind of work, it would split immediately.”

Oberyn smiled. “So what do we do?” He asked again.

You squeezed his hands. “Whatever we want, Oberyn.”

“What if I want to go back to bed with you by my side?” Oberyn asked.

“Well then.” You stood, shedding your coat. “I guess we better get going.”

#game of thrones #Oberyn Martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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nothing-but-dreamy · 4 years ago

Text

VALUED

Pairing: Chocobros x Reader

Words: 2.683

Warnings: fluff, friendship

Synopsis: Yn doubts herself and then, it's good to have a bunch of good friends nearby to remind her that she's valued by them.

"Hey, pretty doll. Why are you with these guys? Join me instead. I'm more fun than them.", a guy, dressed in dusty shorts and an old t-shirt, leaning casually against a boarding, called out with a smug smile as yn and her friends passed him.

Usually, she ignored provocations or flirting like this but this time, Yn sized the guy up, looking doubting about his statement, "I would rather love to die on the spot.", she answered, turning around to continue her way to the motel where the group was currently staying to help out with some hunts before they would continue their journey.

"Uhh, harsh words from such a little girl.", the guy said grinning.

Within one second, Yn stopped and jumped at the guy, casted one of her daggers out of nowhere to press it dangerously close against his throat, "Who do you call 'little girl', huh?", she hissed while staring into his shock-filled eyes.

"Yn!", Gladio called out, reaching her with just three strides of his long legs to drag her away from the guy who was white as salt, "What are you doing?"

Yn was trembling in his strong grip to get free, "He called me little girl. So, let me go!", she hissed through gritted teeth, stemming against his hold once again.

"No!", he boomed with his deep voice, "First, you have to calm down.", Gladio demanded. He was struggling with keeping her in place. Not because she would be that strong rather because he didn't mean to hurt her.

"But he's an asshole!", Yn argued angrily, wiggling under Gladio's hands.

"Hey!", the guy called out as he found his voice again.

"Yes, he is but still.", Gladio said, ignoring the guy's complaint.

"Hey, I can hear you!", the guy called out again but he got silenced by Gladio's angry glance shot at him.

"And you should leave or I will release her after all.", Gladio commanded and the guy disappeared.

As he was gone, Gladio released Yn but was also watching out that she stayed where she was, "What the hell was that? You can't attack random people with daggers.", Gladio said admonishingly, crossing his arms over his chest but his expression softened as he saw her sad glance glued to the ground.

Softly, Gladio placed his index finger under her chin, "Yn, that wasn't just because they called you 'little girl', right? You never did something like this before."

But instead of answering, yn just shrugged with her shoulders and looked away again.

"If it was because of that, you know that none of us sees you like this, right? You're an important part of our group.", Gladio said, calming in hope he got through to her.

"But sometimes it doesn't feel like that. None of you really need me. It's not that I would be useful. All of you are much better fighters than I am. With bigger swords or better skills.", Yn said glumly and because Gladio stayed silent, she took it as an agreement, passed him and the others to go back to the motel room.

Disbelieving, Gladio stared after her. Almost shocked, he watched how one of his best friends went away with slumped shoulders, a hanging head and her hands buried deep into the pockets of her jeans.

"What just happened?", Ignis asked confused as he stepped next to Gladio.

"Is something wrong with her?"Prompto asked, concerned as he also watched Yn walking away. Noctis joined as well, frowning about the unusual behavior. They had watched the scene because they were sure Gladio would be able to handle that. Somehow, they were wrong...

"I have no idea...", Gladio said confused, scratching the back of his neck. Since he knew her, Yn was the best female fighter he had met. Yes, she was smaller but extremely fast. Faster than Ignis and Prompto when she was fighting against creatures and enemies. Yes, she used daggers just like Ignis but she wasn't less deadly with them.

There was no reason for her to feel … useless.

Gladio was still staring after Yn even as she was already out of sight as Ignis stepped in front of him, "We should do something to help her.", he said, tapping with his index finger against his lips, trying to find an idea.

"But what could we do?", Prompto asked, "I always thought she knows how important she is to us-"

"It's not about us. You heard her. She is doubting her fighting skills.", Gladio pointed out. Slowly but surely, he understood what might be going on with her. Even as a King's Shield, he had been at the same point. He just had fought through it.

"So, what are you suggesting? Shall we train with her?", Prompto asked naively that this would fix things.

"Actually, I might have an idea.", Noctis said and pulled a piece of paper out of the back pocket of his pants.

***

Yn sat on her bed in the motel room she shared with the boys and let her legs slowly dangling over the edge while she stared out of the window. Behind the glass was nothing to be seen but sand, dust and a bunch of bushes. The blue sky was cloudless. The weather was sunny and cheerful. The complete opposite to her current mood.

Over and over again, her mind played through the attack on that random guy. And each time, she winced at the memory. Never before, she had attacked someone randomly just because of some teasing. And it wasn't just the 'little girl' thing. It had been the glances back in Insomnia as she had trained with different weapons to extend her skills. She heard the whispers behind her back when she walked next to Gladio who was so much taller than herself while they were discussing new move sets. Then, she left with her friends and even then, someone had asked her if this journey would be the right thing for such a small, pretty girl. As if her height and appearance would be everything that mattered.

With a swift move, Yn casted her daggers into her hands. Kukris. She never had seen such beautiful blades like these two with all their ornaments and detailed engravings. She felt honored as King Regis had given them to her. She felt blessed to be able to wield them to defend and to protect the Prince and her other friends. But nevertheless, sometimes, it felt as if it wasn't enough.

Since they had passed the secure wall of their home, Yn was doubting herself. None of the boys gave her the feeling to be useless. She did it on her own. Years of training and dedication to be a good fighter went south as she saw how good the others were on the field. All of them had much more training and even Noctis was able to wield a greatsword - which Yn couldn’t even move one bit.

While she stared at her daggers, tears were building in her eyes and as she blinked, hot teardrops were falling on the daggers. Angry about herself, she casted them away. Now, she didn't even feel worthy to own them...

"Here you are!", Gladio said as he opened the door of the motel room.

Quickly, Yn wiped the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her black sweatshirt before she turned around, facing all four boys standing in front of her. She was sure they would notice that she had cried but they said nothing about it, "What is it?", she asked carefully, not knowing what would come next.

It was Prompto who answered her question as he jumped on the bed to land next to her, flinging his arm around her shoulders, "Noctis got asked for help by Tikka. A delivery of green beans went missing and we shall take a look if we can find it."

Amused, yn looked from Prompto at Noctis, "You wanna rescue green beans? You?"

"Yeah... I know. Come on, we hit the road.", Noctis said and left the room, followed by Ignis.

Prompto jumped from the bed and ran after them, "On the way, we can check if we find anything interesting so I can take a photo."

"If not, you can take selfies ... as usual.", Noctis teased and because they were already out of sight, yn just heard their bickering.

At the door, Gladio waited for yn, "You know, if you wanna talk about something, I'm there for you.", he said softly, checking on her but stayed silent.

Yn smiled up at him, already feeling better again, "Thanks. I will talk to you just … give me some time."

***

"Just green beans, huh? Green beans my ass.", yn stated as she watched Bulettes emerging form the small wood they just had passed. The four tall, very heavy and very angry animals aimed for her and her friends.

Gladio was already casting his great sword, wielding it over his head, "Come on, a little fight will keep us slinky and flexible.", he said and nudged her shoulder with his own before he smirked at her.

With a grin, yn looked up at the tall guy, "Slinky and flexible aren't words I would use to describe you, big guy.", she said teasingly.

"Ouch, no need to be mean.", Gladio called out, playfully hurt before they both aimed for the first animal.

Quickly, the calm and beautiful meadow changed into a raging battlefield. Gladio and Yn ran to the first animal and even before Gladio could make the first hit, he squatted down and offered Yn his hand and arm. Grinning, she stepped on his arm, one foot on his hand, balancing while casting her daggers and tensing up her muscles before Gladio gave her a push to throw her on top of the animal. Yn landed perfect on the back. Quickly, she found her balance again and while Gladio slammed his great sword into the skin of the animal, Yn swirled her Kukris and sank them into the throat and neck of the raging Bulette. The Kukris stuck but instead to pull them out, Yn spun them around until the animal fell to the ground.

Lifeless.

Yn jumped from the carcass with a flip and landed light-footed in front of Gladio who grinned impressed, "One down, three to go. Come on, I guess the others need our help."

"Yn, over here!", Noctis called out and Yn followed him immediately. Noctis was ready for a warp-attack that would give the opportunity of a blitz attack. Noctis warped with his KINGSBLADE against the animal and bounced back next to Yn. They nodded, taking a run-up of a few steps and while Noctis let himself drop on one knee to attack the feet of the Bulette, Yn ran and stepped on Noctis' back to jump against the broad enemy to thrust her daggers between its ribs into the heart. She stayed a few moments longer to make sure the creature was dead. As it fell lifeless to the ground, Yn stemmed her feet against the ribcage and pulled out her daggers.

Yn was just about to catch her breath as Prompto called her over, "Yn, I could need your help."

She turned her head before she spurted over to her friend. Prompto already had drawn his gun, firing at the beast but as Yn stopped next to him, they nodded at each other with a grin, turning over so they were standing back to back before Prompto was aiming for the animal again. Yn did the same with her daggers. From the corner of her eyes, she waited for his sign. As Prompto nodded with a grin, he fired his gun the same moment Yn threw her Kukri. The shot staggered the animal in its way towards them. It became slower while Yn's dagger penetrated the skull of the animal. The Bulette stumbled over its feet, fell to the ground and slid a small way before it stopped in front of their feet.

As yn thought it would be over, Ignis called her over to him, "Come on, I need you for the finisher.", he called out. With a huge grin on her lips, Yn ran towards him. Gladio and Noctis had made the animal already tired. Ignis and Yn bumped their fists against each other, stepped back and ran then to the animal to attack it at the same time with their daggers before they landed side by side on the other side elegantly on their knees. Everything happened so fast, that the Bulette needed a moment to realize that it had no chance anymore and so, it fell lifeless to the ground.

All five friends were breathless but alive, unharmed and happy. With a rapid pulse, Yn turned around to look at the scene of battle while she casted the daggers away.

Ignis inspected the corpses, "We should take something with us before we find a good spot for camping and cooking.", he said and Prompto already joined him to help with the preparations.

***

Two hours later, the tent was built, the food was cooked and eaten and Prompto, Ignis and Noctis stretched themselves, the sign that they were ready for the night. One by one, they called it a night until just Gladio and Yn were left behind, sitting at the crackling campfire in silence observing the calming flames.

Yn watched how small sparks danced endlessly into the dark blue night sky. Stars were scattered over the firmament like millions of diamonds. Her eyes stayed glued to the stars while she smiled softly, "I know what you all did today.", she whispered, breaking the silence.

"What... what do you mean?", Gladio asked, trying to sound convincing but it wasn't working very well, he saw it in her face.

"There never were any green beans, right?", Yn pointed out, still looking to the stars.

Gladio chuckled low, scratching the back of his neck before he looked apologetically at her, "Actually, no... not really."

"I thought that it was a bit odd for Noctis to run around to search for a bunch of vegetables.", Yn said before she looked into Gladio's face, "Thank you.", she whispered sheepishly.

Gladio laid his arm around her shoulders, "You're welcome, sweetheart. You're valued here. Always. We wanted to show you that.", he whispered before he pressed a soft kiss on top of her hair. He pulled her against his side where she snuggled against his chest. It wasn't the first time that they were seeking comfort in each other but this time it felt more important.

Gladio rested his head on top of hers and looked back into the flames, "We have your back, no matter what. You know, I've been there as well. I also had doubts about myself. I guess that's normal. You just have to remember what you're capable of. We trust you all blindly because we know what you are able to do.", Gladio said low.

A single tear was rolling down Yn's cheek by his words and suddenly, everything that had happened looked stupid and odd. Quickly, Yn wiped the tears away, "I feel so stupid.", she whispered.

Gladio straightened himself to look at her, "You don't have to. It's human to doubt oneself from time to time. And the next time, when you feel like this, just come to me. Talk with me. You don't have to go through this alone. Size isn't all that matters.", Gladio said with a smirk.

Yn felt touched by this big, cuddly teddy bear and so, she threw herself against his solid body with her arms flung around his middle. Gladio mimicked her move and embraced her back, "And by the way, you have the perfect size to lean and to snuggle against me like this. That's a good start, don't you think?", he chuckled but Yn couldn't answer.

"Cuddle time!", Prompto called out and within one second, Gladio and Yn were attacked by Prompto, Ignis and Noctis. Buried underneath her friends, Yn felt her confidence coming back.

She felt valued.

#final fantasy imagines #final fantasy gladiolus #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy #final fantasy ignis #final fantasy prompto #final fantasy noctis #fandom support #fandoms #writing #gladio amiticia #ff15 ignis #ff15 gladio #ff15 noctis #ff15 prompto #prompto argentum #noctis caelum #chocobros

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caws5749 · 4 years ago

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Clouded Reality

A/N: it feels SO GOOD to be posting something again. Most of this was written last night, when i was ridiculously drunk aofiajewoi. but today, i fixed some of the issues and wrote the rest, and i’m not mad about it

Promoting: my 1.5k celebration! pinned post!

It was late, after midnight, when you woke. What had awakened you, you had no idea. A creak of a door opening seemed to grab your attention, and you sat up quickly, afraid of who or what was entering your room.

“Natasha,” you sighed quietly, after realizing a familiar red-head had made her way into your room- well, it was her room too, at least for these few nights.

“Y/N,” she answered, quietly closing the door.

“You’re home,” you observed quietly, sitting up further and resting on your elbows.

“I am,” Nat confirmed, already unzipping the front of her suit after dropping her bag near the door.

“How was the mission?” you asked, your eyes still nearly closing from the desire to fall back asleep.

“We can talk about it in the morning,” Nat answered, heading into the closet and grabbing her pajamas.

“Okay,” you whispered, falling back against the pillows and sighing, your eyes falling shut. You waited for what seemed like an eternity until you felt the bed sink down next to you. You turned your head, eyes opening to see a gorgeous red-head lying next to you. You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your lips.

“What?” Natasha asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

“I just….. Missed you a lot,” you answered, eyes raking over her face, taking in the perfection that radiated from every inch of her.

“I missed you too,” Natasha answered simply, deep emerald eyes focusing only on you. You let your eyes search her face for a moment more, before exploring the rest of her body.

“How are you so perfect?” you heard yourself asking.

“I could ask you the same,” her deep voice answered, humor and adoration evident in her tone.

“Shut up,” you chuckled,” shaking your head in a small motion against the pillows.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s no trouble,” you answered, a rehearsed answer you’d gone over thousands of times in your head.

“Mhmm.”

“Do you need anything before you sleep?” you questioned.

“Perhaps a shower,” Nat answered, just as she was trained to do. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Alone,” she continued. Your heart sank. Of course. After what had happened, last night, you weren’t surprised she wanted to be alone.

“It’s just after midnight,” you breathed, your heart beating faster than it ever had.

��It’s late,” Nat admitted. You nodded, hoping she didn’t care.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” she continued.

“What?” you chuckled, “you thought I wouldn’t be?”

“I just know you like to sleep early,” Natasha answered, her green eyes searching your own.

“Well, when I’m at home, sure,” you admitted. Your hand reached to grab her arm.

“But when I’m with you…” you trailed, eyes looking to the corner of the room.

“What?” Nat asked.

“I just…. I don’t mind staying up.”

“Why?” the spy probed. You found yourself wanting to lie, wanting to do anything but tell her the truth. But you couldn’t lie, not to her.

“I just…. I wanted to know you were okay.”

“Don’t think I can handle myself?” the red-head asked if, a smirk playing at her lips.

“That’s not it,” you chuckled, losing yourself in her beauty. “I just… I care about you."

Silence encompassed the already empty room.

After a long three minutes, her smooth voice filled the room.

“I care about you too.”

It didn’t feel the same, it would never feel the same unless you actually told her how you felt.

“No, I…. I really care about you.”

And you wished she had said something, anything. But she didn’t. And now you were left confused and empty and upset, the line between a mission and real life blurred.

So, you watched as she left an empty space in the bed beside you, as she made her way toward the bathroom, shutting the door. You heard the shower start, and you rolled over, your hand batting away a tear that had fallen, fresh from one of your eyes.

++++++

By the time Nat had finished her shower, you’d fallen asleep once again.

When she took her place in the bed beside you, you were unaware of her touch. You were unaware of the fact that Natasha’s hand had fallen to your arm, caressing it gently, before moving toward your shoulder, her nails lightly scratching at your skin. When her arm finally rested around your middle, you sank even deeper into your slumber, the weight of her touch lulling you even deeper into your unconscious state.

Nat couldn’t help but wonder if you could feel her touch, wonder if the weight of her fingers was enough to lull you into the best sleep of your life.

And wouldn’t she have liked to know, that it was indeed the best sleep of your life. Natasha’s fingers could get you to do anything, even fast asleep.

++++++

“Morning,” a voice woke you from your sleep.

“Morning,” you answered, blinking the sleep from your eyes.

“Sleep well?”

“Fine,” you answered, not entirely sure of the mood.

“Breakfast?” Natasha answered, a smile tugging at her light pink lips.

“After a shower,” you offered, yawning.

“Want company?”

Her question caught you off guard. You breathed in deeply before answering.

“Why not?” you asked, a smirk encompassing your lips.

With that, you were both out of bed, the quick journey to the bathroom giving you a head rush, and you practically fell directly into Natasha’s arms.

“Careful,” she murmured, her face inches from yours. Your breath caught, and you found yourself searching her deep green eyes.

“Or what?”

Her lips slamming into yours was the only reply you got, your mission long forgotten.

Your tongues fought as you made your way to the shower, the water becoming warm as your hands explored her body.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmured, gasping for breath as your lips left hers.

“I am nothing compared to you.”

Your eyes went wide, gasping heavily as you took in her words. If there was anything that could turn you into a willful servant, it was that.

You practically attacked her lips, pulling at her hair and skin in an attempt to become even closer to her.

Somehow, you both ended up directly under the water that was beating down. Natasha’s hands were off your body quicker than you could have ever wanted.

You turned, almost too upset that you’d lost her touch.

“Let me wash your hair.”

The softness of her voice had you completely under her spell. With you facing away from her, her hands began to run through your locks, massaging the cold shampoo into your scalp. It was, hands down, the best massage you’d ever received. It took everything in you not to moan.

When you shivered, a result of her gentle touch, Nat was quick to notice.

“Alright?”

You let out a breath.

“Of course.”

“Need the water warmer?”

“No.”

If only she knew that her touch was enough to send your body quaking. Feeling a bit of boldness, you turned to face her. When your E/C eyes met hers, you knew there was no turning back.

“Make me regret nothing,” you begged quietly. Saying those words was a gamble, one you were nervous to make. It was hard to distinguish what was real, and what was nothing but an act. Being undercover with Natasha had warped reality.

Whether it was real or fake, the woman naked in front of you gave you everything you’d asked for, and more, giving you several orgasms before finally shutting off the water that had long since grown cold.

But then it seemed like that was it.

With not even a single look back at you, Nat was gone, throwing on her clothes and leaving the room, leaving you standing alone, still wet on the cold tile.

With a sigh, you toweled off, grabbing some clothes before taking a seat on the edge of the bed, mulling over Natasha’s words and actions. You felt like a teenager with her first crush.

“Y/N!” Nat called from the kitchen.

“Be right there!”

Whatever was real, you had to finish the mission, or rather, the mission within a mission. You supposed you’d just have to do it confused, living in a clouded reality.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x femreader #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #mine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow movie #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #avengers

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fantasticstoryteller · 3 years ago

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New Amsterdam Chapter 58

The leader of the Snipers limped into the tunnels, ignoring the skittering around him as he made his way towards the designated point. Daredevil did not think he was worth killing. He was determined to make sure that was a mistake.

Shadows bloomed and shrunk as he passed, the noises continuing. The skittering turned into light scratching and there odd murmuring noises, almost like warped human speech. He ignored them all; he’d heard them before. They were no threat to him. He was protected. He knew it.

He limped into the round space, tunnels on either side of him, where the Great One was. The Great One sat on a cushioned crate and watched as he approached. There were shadows on either side of her, almost like the wings of a throne.

As always, he dropped to a kneel in front of the Great One. This overwhelming desire to submit had been his first clue that she spoke the truth. It was not his last.

The Great One watched from the shadowed depths of the throne silently. Looked over the injuries. Saw the blood. The skittering from the shadows—stopped. Almost as though someone had turned off a sound system. “Speak,” the Great One ordered.

He spoke. He told her about trying to get the girl to back off, to stop protecting the street children. He told her about Daredevil. About his ultimatum.

“You will stop these sick activities of yours and leave—or you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

The Great One stood and stepped towards him. “You have been loyal,” she said.

He bowed his head. Of course he was loyal. Even if that girl was right, even if what she’d said about the Great One creating the demon he’d seen was true—that was even more reason to be loyal. More reason to be loyal. He didn’t want to be one of those demons, after all.

Her hand gently caressed the back of his head and he resisted the urge to preen, sigh, or lean into the approving touch. “What is the name of this girl?” she asked.

He faltered. What was the girl’s name? After thinking back he replied, “The street children call her Angel.”

“I suppose it’s possible one of them has the power to summon an angel like figure,” mused the Great One. “It wouldn't be the first time.” The hand gently gripped, lightly caressing the back of his neck. “You have been such a loyal human for me,” the Great One purred.

“It has been my honor.”

“Such a pity I don’t like humans.” A quick twist of the wrist and the now dead corpse fell to the ground.

***

Adriana stepped back and viewed the rapidly cooling corpse as she retired to her throne to think. Her creatures surged forwards as her power released them—all but one. She turned her head to look at the solitary spider, a wickedly beautiful thing with black and red skin and elegant almond shaped eyes. Each eye sparkled like a jewel, and this one was her favorite so far.

Too bad it also had to be the most stubborn of her creatures. She took a careful step towards it, sashaying in her heels. “Still fighting me?” she asked amused. “Or—are you fighting yourself now?” The thing keened, venom pooling from its fangs as it looked at the piece of meat the others were already devouring—but it didn’t move. It didn’t go towards the corpse as its instincts demanded. Adriana took another step towards it.

The lovely creature actually managed to force itself to back up. She was impressed; after being turned they all craved her touch, affection, and love. Yet, despite that, this one tried to stay away, almost as though it knew what a monster it was.

Which was ridiculous. Once turned, her creatures had almost no will, no desire, no understanding. It was why they were pure, perfect, as opposed to the truly vile things they used to be. No, the only thing she could figure was that there were two warring sets of instincts in the creature.

She never should have taken a mother with children.

#Spider-Man #Deadpool #Spideypool #interlude

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darkpoisonouslove · 3 years ago

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Singing a New Tune

Summary: Valtor takes Griffin to the opera but his surprise meant to arouse carnal desires brings out unexpected feelings as well. Part 11 of Sparks of Life. Set before all the previous parts.

Don’t get fooled, this is 98% sexual content and banter. The other 2% is angst as per usual. This is an older idea (took over a year to get to it) but I finally came up with something solid and you get this. Was all the factual information in this necessary? No. But I did the research so you get it. Also, the Sparks of Life verse now exists in an alternate universe where time is warped so everything I need for a story exists at the same time (aka a vibrator before its time). Set before all the previous parts.

CW: Sexual content, edging, orgasm delay, sex toys (vibrator), a bet and public setting (for most of this)

Applying makeup in the evening traffic was a delicate process. At least Valtor had the decency to drive smoothly while she fixed the lipstick his greeting kiss had smeared over both of them.

Griffin's lips stretched into an indiscreet smile at the lingering warmth of his where the red was smudged. He'd gotten out of the car to open the door for her but instead, it had been her mouth opening for his tongue and the taste of tonic water on his breath. The musky scent of cologne wafted off of him to wrap her as tangibly as the candid thirst in his frozen irises had. Her breath had hitched under his wandering fingers, leaving his appreciation of the red satin silk hugging her body over her curves in case the push of his hips into her hadn't gotten the point across. She'd only had to stop him once his passion had threatened to muss her hairdo.

Valtor wasn't worried about the hardening erection he'd been staving off while helping her in the car, his hand palming her knee when it wasn't on the stick shift. It was pleasant if distracting with his constant motions. Each time his fingers left her leg her stomach sank a little in anticipation of their unlikely return. It had to be exhausting or at least annoying for him to constantly switch between tending to the car and feeling the fabric of her dress as a barrier between her bare skin and his. Yet, his touch was back invariably.

Griffin swung the sun visor back up, no longer in need of the little mirror it provided. "Are you going to tell me where we're going now?"

He'd called and told her to put on an evening gown for a night out. He hadn't given her specifics, only respite from the knot in her stomach with his compliment of her beauty upon arriving to pick her up from her apartment. Now she could be disoriented in peace without fretting over not fitting in with his fancy lifestyle.

"I am going to make you a bet," Valtor didn't ease on his cryptic behavior to fuel her heartbeat to faster notes in her ears. "Look inside," he pointed her to the glove compartment where a black plastic box was waiting for her.

It was a perfect polished rectangle with only two small openings in the lid for keys to lift it up. The shape corresponded to that of the attachments to the hair pin he'd presented her with upon entering the car. She'd been catching her breath still from his kiss, her cheeks the same shade as the flowers adorning the gold blush metal. She'd nestled the pin into her bun to spare Zarathustra's work from Valtor's abnormal clumsiness.

Griffin set the box in her lap. It was probably a necklace to replace the one around her neck although it went well enough with the hair pin and the bracelet she'd borrowed from Ediltrude on his instruction to adorn with gold. "That's a bit much. I've already accessorized, not without help from you."

"Aren't you curious about the centerpiece?" A smug grin took over Valtor's features even though his eyes remained on the road. He didn't have to look to find her curiosity; he'd fished it out with simple words. "If you are surprised by our destination, you'll wear what's in the box for the rest of the evening. What do you say?"

Griffin's eyes narrowed as her fingers glided over the sleek box. She had about as much idea where they were going as she did about what was inside it. The chances weren't on her side with that bet but he'd set up the perfect mystery to captivate her. "You're on."

Valtor beamed, fingers squeezing her knee lightly. Just what had she gotten herself into? His reaction was far too small to justify the joy spilling over her lungs at the look of the sparks in his eyes.

"What do I get if I win?" She had the key to the box. She could satisfy her curiosity no matter the outcome. So why did her question ring so hollow as they sped down the street?

"I have to admit I haven't thought that far," Valtor's reply was more sly than remorseful.

"Confident with yourself, aren't you?" Griffin fidgeted with her necklace when it was her heart she had to make sure was in its place. She must have lost it to him if she thought of the arrogance she'd despised at first with fondness.

"You're in my car after as vague an invitation as they come. That constitutes an absolute win in my book," Valtor caught her gaze in the few seconds the red traffic light granted them. The sincerity in his eyes was cutting despite all the times she'd already seen it and ran deep inside her bones. "Everything else is just greediness."

Griffin tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as an excuse to hide the flush blooming in her cheeks behind her hand. The Griffin that had barged into his office months ago would have scoffed at her gullibility but that woman hadn't been touched by the naked Valtor behind the suits and charming words. He was a different person from the one she'd set out to hate despite the same face. A person she could trust, not just with her physical well-being, but with her mind as well.

"Greediness is usually not a virtue in my book but this time I'll join you in your debauchery."

The corners of Valtor's mouth twitched up, his voice dripping with self-satisfaction. "Seduction is truly one of my best skills then if it grants me your company."

She'd peg him down a notch if she could find her disenchantment with his attitude. She was lucky the car enforced sitting on them as she went weak in the knees from the memories of every time his eyes had melted into a bared heart when she'd agreed to give him the time of day. Her time. He treasured it like the most valuable currency in his life. She wasn't a trophy or a possession as she'd first imagined herself from his point of view. She was a safe haven. His presence shaped her into something she never could have made out of herself. He did have an artist's touch, after all, if he hadn't proven it already all the times he'd drawn satisfaction over her being.

Griffin flipped down the sun visor again and ran her fingers over the corners of her eyes. The last thing she needed was smeared eyeshadow or mascara in her eyes.

"We're here," Valtor slowed down to give her time to look out the window.

They were passing by the Josie Robertson Plaza and the facade of the Metropolitan Opera House behind it. Even as they drove past it down Ninth Avenue, the building of the opera threatened to smash through the window with the force of her disbelief.

"I thought you hated opera," Griffin shifted in the passenger seat. He'd told her about his mothers dragging him to hours-long operas that were capable of crushing not just the spirit of a small child, but also his eardrums.

"I do," Valtor shrugged but the action was stilted. "However, I thought that was due to change if you were to indulge my experiment and accompany me."

Griffin nodded despite his occupation with the scanner in the parking garage they entered at W 62nd St.

"Are you surprised?" Valtor pocketed the ticket they were dispensed and the car was back in motion.

Griffin stared at him momentarily, jaw slackened with soft shock that was undue after all the times he'd proven he did have her best interests in mind right along with his own. He'd handed her the bet and it was only right to return the favor.

"Mhm," she nodded. "I guess that means I'll be wearing your gift." She reached for the pin in her bun but Valtor grabbed her wrist just in time with the engine shutting off.

"Not yet."

He pulled her into a kiss, her body relaxing in his arms despite the awkward angle they had to submit to. He took advantage of having no chauffeur on her request and pulled her legs over the parking brake and the stick shift and his own knee to bring her to the edge of her seat. His hand slid over the length of her thigh before squeezing at her ass while the other one tilted her face towards him to let him swallow her gasp right from her lips. He bit her lower lip to draw out a desperate whine for more as her chest pressed against his insistently as if her heart wanted to merge with his.

Valtor answered her, slipping his tongue over hers in a sensual caress while his fingers tugged playfully at the loose strand of hair. Griffin pulled on his blond locks in return to draw a moan from him in lieu of her own. Her nails scratched at his back through his shirt to launch his torso closer into her. A painful grunt reverberating through him sent their teeth clashing when her heel stabbed him in the shin and her shoulder tingled from the discomfort of being crushed between her body and the seat but neither of them let go before air was running out.

She caught a glimpse of the red smear all over his mouth before he nuzzled his head in the crook of her neck, lips tickling her sensitive skin. The off-the-shoulder dress gave him unobstructed access to her cleavage and he took the opportunity to run his fingers over the top of her breasts before slipping them between to tease the tender flesh. His teeth grazed over her heart to make her breath plunge in the hollow of her throat but they just scraped against her senses leaving a faint wet trail behind. A moan ran like a shock wave through her when Valtor fondled her breast roughly, her fingers digging into his inner thigh to jolt him.

Her breasts followed his retreating mouth, chest expanding with the breath she hungrily sucked in. Her pulse pounded in her throat and her head swam in the blur of passion wrapping them like a cocoon. Her muscles strained against the loss of proximity between her and Valtor.

"A little farther down that road and we'll miss the opera," Valtor filled the silence separating them like a brick wall. His breath came in short puffs that were barely enough to carry his voice steadily. She was tempted to say screw it and straddle him right there in a very public garage but the black box weighted her down in her seat. They hadn't managed to knock it out of her lap by a miracle. "You'll need to go to the bathroom once we enter the opera and put it in." Valtor nodded towards the plastic rectangle to pique her curiosity again and give her legs an incentive to move out of his lap.

She could use a bathroom to touch up her makeup again. Most of her lipstick was over the lower half of his face and warranted a tissue asap.

Exiting the car landed her in the glare of a woman in a close-by vehicle. It could be the smudge of lipstick on her chest that she'd missed to wipe away that got her the look or it could be the barely tinted windows of Valtor's car. At 70 percent Visible Light Transmission there was barely any difference from non-tinted glass. State laws were a real pain sometimes.

She looped an arm through Valtor's and they headed towards the Opera House. They'd practically parked at the entrance of it and she was en route to the bathroom in a minute, the box clasped in her hand.

From Valtor's wording it was safe to assume it contained a vibrator or Ben Wa balls–though, it seemed oversized for that–or some other sex toy. In any case, it was something designed to occupy both their attention and distract them from the actual opera. If he made a joke about making her sing, she would smack him with her clutch.

Once locked in a stall, Griffin finally pulled the hair pin out of her bun. It fit perfectly into the little locks and released them with a quiet click to make the lid pop up. Who knew how much it'd cost Valtor to have that mechanism custom-made.

She was met with a bright pink vibrator with an antenna for remote control. Which was where Valtor came in. She'd be at his mercy the whole time, the thought making her drip even more. She was already wet from the mystery he'd gift-wrapped for her and his fingerprints on her body. At least inserting the vibrator would be easy. Easier considering she still had to fight with her dress. It would have been so much faster with Valtor's help.

The thought of his probing fingers dipping into her arousal sent her cheeks flushing hot. A gasp tore from her when the egg fit snugly against her G-spot and the extension with the antenna aligned perfectly with her clit. She could only imagine the effect the vibrations would have. She'd had her fair share of scandalous escapades but making herself this vulnerable and handing someone the opportunity to take advantage of it was a first. She was already hot and bothered and Valtor hadn't even worked his full wicked magic on her yet.

The vibrator fit well inside her and stayed in place with her movements, just noticeable enough to make her constantly aware of its presence without even being turned on yet. Watching the couple women that walked past her while she fixed her makeup had her imagining their impossible knowledge of her situation. The rhythm of her chest was disrupted as she forced her eyes to stay on her own reflection. She'd have to make Valtor pay for reducing her to an embarrassed schoolgirl.

The sight of him outside pulled on the muscles in her lower belly, anticipation curling there for the vibrations to hit her with a simple motion of his.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, leaning into her in a way made overwhelmingly intimate by the awareness they both shared of the toy inside her.

"Yeah," she nodded weakly. "I'm fine." The tension in her body spiked at the touch of his hand at the small of her back only for her to relax in his hold.

She let him lead her to the Balcony leaning on his sturdy frame for support. Their seats were numbers 5 and 6 at box 14, on the right side of the stage. There was just one other man in their box, in the seat that was farthest removed from theirs. Only a smidge of relief to her high-strung nerves.

She clung to Valtor's arm like a lost little puppy. Her fate was in his hands and he was making small talk like the world would end if they didn't discuss the view and acoustics of their seats at length. As if he'd come to watch anything but the performance he'd make her put on.

"Have you been to the opera before?" Valtor asked. Each word stretched endlessly in her mind to break her resolve against squirming in her seat. And hadn't she told him that already when they'd spoken about opera previously?

"Yes." Griffin licked her lips to smooth out the path of the oxygen into her mouth. "Headmistress Annora had us take the students several times."

"What did you watch?" Valtor was playing the part of an opera lover with care that terrified with its lack of transparency. If someone watched them, they would never guess the salacious game he was playing with her, his full attention dedicated to an art form he sincerely couldn't stand.

"I... don't remember." Griffin pulled the black box out of her clutch where she'd managed to stuff it at the risk of it bursting at the seams just so that her brain wouldn't be stimulated with wild fantasies. Valtor was pushing her buttons with random words like there was no sophistication whatsoever to her and she shoved the box in his hand to make him direct the bountiful energy inside her before she'd lost her mind.

"Shame," he pocketed it in his suit jacket and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I could have made you si-"

She would have socked him in the jaw and dashed out of the building if the beginning of the show hadn't interrupted his pun.

"Ah, time to commence our experiment." He pulled out his phone – the remote for the pink toy inside her. "Did you know," his finger slid lazily over the screen, "that the vibrations can be activated by sound?" A tap of his fingertip and the vibrator buzzed to life inside her.

She grabbed at his suit jacket, teeth biting in her bottom lip to hold her moans in. The vibrations hit her G-spot and her clit in waves synced with the music on the stage and she was at the half point of an orgasm already. The tension in her body tightened like a knot from the charge of adrenaline. He'd gotten her this worked up like it was nothing. She'd give him a piece of her mind if she weren't pulled taut like a bowstring between the building need for release and the wariness of getting caught pink-handed to kill all of her arousal and dignity.

"That's the medium level," Valtor's voice squeezed her throat to cut off her air and keep her from crying out. "Do you want to try out the highest?"

Griffin's eyes bulged out. She couldn't handle more without screaming over the orchestra. She'd make a fool of herself and ruin the show for everyone.

Valtor was faster than her ability to form sentences that had drifted too far away for comfort and the noise from the toy increased audibly under the sounds coming from the stage. And so did the frequency of the vibrations.

She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to trap the intensity inside her body but the groans were bubbling in her throat. Her thighs were shaking, toes curling in her pumps with nothing to ground her, and she only had seconds to spare. Her fingers twisted desperately in Valtor's suit jacket in a plea he heeded as she bent over, her walls clenching hard around the toy, and the vibrations eased up on her to let her take a breath through trembling fingers.

Valtor rubbed her back in a rhythm that nearly swayed her mind out of the reach of the vibrations against her most sensitive spots. "Are you okay? Did I push you too far?" Vibrators were still a vastly uncharted territory for her. She'd barely used any before he'd introduced them to their sex life.

"I'm fine," she leaned into his arm, head nearly lulling down on his shoulder. "But I almost came. I just need a little break." She hadn't backed that far away from the edge and she had never had a quiet orgasm in her life. Even when she'd been young and hadn't quite known how to bring herself the most pleasure, she'd had to muffle her noises with a pillow. And biting down into his collar wouldn't get the job done with so many people across the hall that would notice.

Valtor tapped his phone screen again and the intensity of the vibrations dropped to a level that was barely noticeable compared to the previous two. "Better?"

Griffin nodded. "Much. Thank you." Her lungs had an easier time expanding for air without moans constantly threatening to erupt from her open mouth.

"I could turn it off if you want?" Valtor caught her gaze, the blue of his eyes glistening with worry.

"No, it's fine. Really." He'd wanted her to wear it all evening–while turned on–and she loved a challenge.

"We could try out different patterns to the vibrations if you want."

Griffin shook her head. If they were following the sound patterns of the show, then there was less risk of making noise through quiet moments during the performance. That setting was working out in her favor. "No, we were experimenting with the opera experience, weren't we?" she managed a grin.

"So you want to leave it as it is?" A devilish note crept in his voice. "You know you won't be able to come on the low setting, right? You'll be teased without relief the whole time." His fingers brushed innocently against her breast to raise her skin into goosebumps.

She couldn't afford to come anyway but the certainty of that fact wasn't reassuring. "How long is this thing anyway?" They were watching the abridged version of The Magic Flute in English. It couldn't be that bad.

"An hour and 45 minutes."

A groan slipped past her lips to draw a glare from the man in front of them. At least that implied that he hadn't noticed their other activities.

"You have quite the way to go," Valtor leaned over, pulled in by the stronger vibration echoing through her body when the orchestra hit a high note.

"Are you discouraging me?" She didn't need consequences to her failure to be motivated to avoid it. Her pride was enough of a drive to grit her teeth through the merciless teasing of the toy inside her.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Valtor's hand clamped down on her thigh in a purposeful squeeze that made her walls clench around another tide of intensity from the vibrator. "Your reactions are so fascinating to watch."

"Thank you," Griffin returned the gesture smirking when it went directly into his cock and the little jolt of arousal pried his fingers off her thigh. He had a phone to pay attention to but her hands were free to pay him back for the teasing in case it got too unbearable. She'd have the time of her life if it weren't a double-edged sword and thus, saved as a last resort.

She turned her attention on the stage and the performances. She had a vague memory of hearing about the plot of that particular opera but nothing to make it familiar to her which wasn't necessarily a disadvantage. The costumes easily caught the eye with their brightness and peculiarity and the sets and props were breathtaking. The paper birds they had flying around on strings were her favorite detail and the only thing that managed to fully free her mind from the clutches of the vibrator inside her.

Getting immersed in the show was only setting herself up for failure when she forgot about the shift in the stimulation to her sensitive spots that would come with the change in the music on stage. It was a wicked scheme masterfully crafted by Valtor whose smug grin was always nestled in her hair or the crook of her neck. His breath tickling her skin and a casual whisper caressing her ear only pinned her focus on her overflowing arousal like the tip of a razor-sharp sword.

Tears sprang in her eyes at a high note that was repeated in a devastating sequence of vibrations for her. It was just short of making her tip over the edge of pleasure to leave her teetering on the verge of losing her mind instead as her whole body trembled.

"C-can I-I have your j-jacket?" she pleaded with Valtor, desperation making her voice even shakier.

"Of course," he took it off immediately, the commotion earning them more disapproval from the man in their box. "Are you cold?" he helped her put it on, allowing her to keep an arm wrapped around herself so that she wouldn't fall apart.

"No." She did several buttons to have the oversized jacket clinging around her frame like a tent to hide the uncontrollable reactions of her body from prying eyes.

Valtor chuckled.

"Don't laugh at me!" she scolded, her voice rising above the influence of the toy.

"I'm not. I'm just admiring your ingenuity." Valtor tucked a strand that had pried loose from her bun behind her ear, his touch sending shivers through her with the fantasies of him slamming her down on his bed and giving her the orgasm she had to deny herself. "I'm surprised you're still able to think so quickly and efficiently."

"Next time you'll be the one with a vibrator in your pants."

"Deal," Valtor agreed instantly, his eyes twinkling like happy stars on a warm summer night. "I never imagined I'd be eager to come to the opera but you've worked a miracle for me." His fingers stroked over her cheek gratefully to quiet down the screaming need of her body for a moment.

"Not for love of the opera." She wasn't even sure how many characters there were supposed to be in the show they were watching. But at least she had an excuse. Valtor couldn't say that much and he'd caught even less of the performance, his eyes clinging to her form the whole time to add more tantalizing caresses over her skin. Her panties were soaked and she had no idea what state her dress was in. She could very well be needing his suit jacket to cover up her mess once they headed out.

"That's good enough for me." His eyes grew darker like a storm cloud, the change from the deep shade of desire that had filled them grotesque. "This is more fun than I could have imagined one could have at the opera."

"You paid how much for tickets exactly just so you could fool around?" Cold and heavy dread cut through her lower belly to make the curling pleasure in there sizzle out. From the right angle she was just another toy for a rich boy like Valtor to entertain himself with. And she'd allowed it, had been the one placing herself in his hands.

"The money still goes to the form of art regardless of how I spend my time during the performance." Valtor turned off the vibrator snapping in half the chain dragging her mind down. "I see no harm or exploitation in a mutually beneficial situation."

The art was probably suffering from being ignored in favor of carnality but two tickets purchased was surely better for everyone involved in its making than two empty seats. And she hadn't left her apartment to go to the opera. She'd left to be with Valtor, the thought sparkling a warmth in her heart that lightened up her whole body.

"Sometimes when you grow up with limited resources, any frivolities feel like a crime." She was reeling in the freedom of his company. The suspense of getting caught was shedding from her like an old skin that was only stifling her progress. She'd outgrown the need for shame over treating her own desires with respect thanks to Valtor. After seemingly putting his selfishness over her agency the first time they'd met, she couldn't have expected such a valuable gift from him of all people. But he'd kept the miracles coming into her life, surprise after surprise that satisfied every craving of her heart for affection and kindness before she'd even recognized it.

"You don't have to justify yourself," Valtor cupped her cheek. "You are stunning just as you are."

The trembling of her lip could disintegrate him into the dust out of which her imagination had made him if she leaned into the impulse to kiss him. Instead, her hand sliding in his left trouser pocket startled him half out of his seat as it closed in on his cock.

"We're entering a dangerous territory here," Valtor chuckled, the sound coming from his throat far from the smooth composure that was slipping through his fingers as he gripped the armrest of his seat.

"You're the one that set us on that path." There was nothing in the bet to suggest she couldn't return the favor of robbing him of his lucidity.

"If you take us any further down it, I will need my suit jacket back." To his credit, he didn't reach to remove her hand or obstruct her access to his rapidly hardening erection. It was a competition now of who could stand the heat better, his ragged breathing reverberating through her over the score of the opera. The muscle memory of him sinking to the hilt inside her synced to his pants in her ear unfolded through her body despite the inappropriate setting. She was still wound up even with the break he'd let her catch.

"And leave a lady in need?" Griffin crossed her legs, the motion echoing through her own pleasure centers as her shoe brushed against his calf. "Not very gentlemanly of you."

"Did the vibrator inside you fail to convey the right impression?" The stimulation returned with the barest flick of his fingers over his phone screen.

Her foot tapped back on the floor and her hand flew out of his pocket as she sat up. She bunched up the fabric of her dress in her fist, her teeth sinking into her tongue to sever the surprised squeak threatening to give her away. She'd counted too much on fair play from him. It was her own mistake.

"Finders keepers." She smirked at him through the tame but insistent buzz against her sweet spots. The break had done more harm than good relaxing her muscles only for them to be pulled taut with yearning again. "I could lend you my clutch if you're in such dire need." She dropped it in his lap to provide herself the perfect cover to cup him through his pants.

Squeezing his rock-hard cock rapidly ended in an unearthly curse from Valtor's lips as his hips bucked into her hand and he had to jerk it away. They had to have drawn someone's eye with their conspicuous behavior but her whole focus was swallowed by the shift in vibrations from the toy. He'd switched up the pattern to leave her mouth hanging open without her palm to cover it. Unfortunately for him, without her clutch she had a free hand to resume his torture.

"Whoever's reduced to a bigger mess at the end of the show will be at the mercy of the other then," she pushed out through gulps of air. The flush in her cheeks could pass as excessive rouge and her labored breathing could be blamed on Valtor's cologne. Her shaking legs would be harder to ignore but Valtor's glaring erection would lose him the challenge any time.

"Did the teasing finally get to your brain?" Valtor altered the vibration pattern again to make her squirm in her seat, nails digging in her thighs through the red of her dress. "If I keep this up," another change of the stimulation to make her nerve-endings scream, "you'll be begging me for the high setting soon with no regard for propriety." He was on the right track, the world around her narrowing down to just the two of them and the phone in his hand the further the vibrations reverberated through her being.

The vague awareness of the multitudinous audience around them was an issue that was too easy to shrug off in her hazy mind. With it out of the way, she leaned over to let out her whimpers and moans right into his ear and make him shift in his seat in search of unobtainable relief. Keeping her voice down was a struggle she had to risk in the name of victory.

Valtor's losing battle against her vocalness forced him to swallow down his own noises and fiddle with her clutch for some cover to his straining cock. Too preoccupied with reining in his own breathing, he returned to the sound activated setting as a last lack of courtesy to her.

The music from the stage made for unpredictable stimulation against which she couldn't brace herself. Squeezing her legs together only pressed the vibrator harder into her clit to spread the shaking through her whole body underneath Valtor's suit jacket. Gasping was her default state of existence when the opera hit its climax. The world was disintegrating under her fingers with the intensity trapped inside her without spilling. It was just short of sending her over the edge of release.

Valtor's breath in her ear was the only outside force penetrating the barrier her eyelids had dropped on her mind. "You have about five more minutes to go." In other words – an eternity on the cusp of madness. "Shame we have to put an end to things so soon," he slipped a finger under the neckline of her dress, running it over the top of her breast and back to add more to the tingling overtaking her body. "I could watch your chest dance in its own rhythm for days on end."

A strangled cry escaped her at the cruelty of his imagination.

"And your face is an ethereal sight to behold in the throes of passion."

Bastard. His fingers rested calmly on her breast while hers twitched into the skirt of her dress, separating them from relieving her of her predicament. He wouldn't turn up the setting on her no matter how much her whole being strained towards the pleasure she'd left in his hands. She'd have to beg to earn his benevolence.

"You want me to count the minutes down for you?" Valtor's smugness dripped over her spine in shivers.

"If I were you," she licked her lips, her voice roughed up by the edges of her frustration, "I would take the time to... commit a fleeting experience to memory."

"You would deny me the pleasure of seeing you this way again?" he brushed away a strand of hair from her burning cheek.

"Long live hypocrisy."

"You are the one who's been denying yourself this whole time. And rest assured I won't let you go unsatisfied after working you up so thoroughly."

She looked at him, the promise encased in his eyes shaking her heart, too, with all the meaning he'd added to a game of pride and stubbornness. His fingers responded to hers faster than her breasts had lured them in and clasped her hand securely to lead it to his lips for a kiss. Perhaps not a gentleman but gentle with her, and that was enough.

On the stage below them the opera crested to its final notes. The calm before the storm as the loud applause exploding around them for the vibrator to echo it pushed her to the limits of holding back an orgasm. Her will was the only thing keeping her on the verge of one but she couldn't let go. She wouldn't.

The stimulation eased up when the excitement over the finale of the opera settled to a quiet buzz throughout the hall. Valtor got up and waited for her to collect herself. She'd lost the additional bet as well but that was the least of her worries.

Comparing her legs to jello would be putting it lightly. Valtor had to pull her out of her seat and support about 98 percent of her weight as she leaned heavily on him. At least his suit jacket was long enough to cover whatever stain her arousal might have left on her dress.

Valtor had to practically carry her down the stairs drawing most eyes around them but she couldn't be bothered to care. The vibrator had quieted down inside her to leave her dangerously relaxed. She had to watch out for sudden loud noises that ran through her like electric charges.

Valtor picked her up once they were outside to draw a squeal from her in revenge for all the noises she'd swallowed down. The motions pushed the vibrator harder against her clit just in time to tease it with the impact of her own voice but her muscles had already slackened in Valtor's embrace. Half her hair fell out of her bun as she rested her head on his shoulder. She must have thrashed harder than she'd thought in her seat.

Valtor gently placed her into the passenger seat as if she was fragile and dropped off her clutch in her lap. The vibrator barely responded to the quiet noises of him settling in the car. He unlocked his phone and handed it to her before he'd rev up the engine and jolt the toy back to life.

"You can try out the high setting and all the patterns you like. I can't imagine the restraint you had to exhaust on behalf of my little game." He got the car in gear before she could think too hard about his words. Her brain was stirred into mush by all the frustration she'd accumulated but that couldn't stop her heart from following.

"I didn't wait this long to come in your car with that thing still inside me instead of your cock."

Valtor floored the brakes so hard she was almost thrown in the dashboard without her seatbelt buckled. The car driving behind them honked continuously which would have sent her over the edge of an orgasm if she hadn't switched up the settings before driving past them and towards the exit.

Valtor looked at her with wide eyes as if he was seeing the world for the first time. His stare was intense enough to bring the blush creeping back up her neck and sides. Instead, it was his hand sliding up in her ruined hairdo. "How did I deserve your commitment?"

Commitment? Hadn't there been something to that effect in the opera? A character singing about his search for a wife? She was speeding in the motionless car and getting ahead of herself but Valtor caught her, his lips covering hers like a silky blanket.

That kiss was slow and gentle against her raw senses, his mouth just barely moving against hers and his tongue gently stroking a promise for later over hers. His free hand cupped the side of her neck with a slight tremble that quickly settled in the feel of her heartbeat underneath. Her lungs kept to a slow pace steadily breathing him in. The warmth of his proximity on her skin relaxed her body against the seat until she was floating in softness, in the embrace of the intimacy they shared.

Valtor touched his forehead to hers briefly to invite the closeness to stay after their lips parted. "Thank you for indulging me tonight. It'll be my pleasure to give you as many orgasms as you want."

"Any number will do if you truly commit to the execution." He was supposed to be lost in her body moving with his like one, not in the depths of self-deprecation.

Her voice had Valtor fishing in the pockets of his suit jacket for the ticket from the parking to avoid denying her any longer than necessary. They'd both waited enough for each other to be that unjust to themselves.

#winx club #winx griffin #winx valtor #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #sparks of life #singing a new tune

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sabineelectricheart · 4 years ago

Text

An Heir to Fraldarius

Summary: The Duke and Duchess Fraldarius spend their sabbath in a productive manner.

Rating: MA - Content is only suitable for mature adults. May contain explicit language and adult themes.

Words: 1900

Notes: Just some breeding smut to warm our hearts in these difficult times.

It was Saturday morning, and Byleth made her way into her private parlour as she usually did in those occasions. The place, at the end of the hallway from her chambers, was a small, sunny room with a delightful view to the Ogma Mountains that her husband gifted her upon their marriage, to make it her own as she pleases.

It was Saturday morning, her favourite time of the week. A small smile decorated her face, a sure sign of her good mood, and she was ready to share it with the man she loved so. Lucky for her, she knew exactly where Felix would be.

Every Saturday morning since they had married three years ago, at least those they spend together in Fraldarius, Felix would sit at the kitchen table, a pot of tea next to him, and the backlogged numbers of the Acta Archiepiscopae, the daily publication of the acts and orders of the Church of Seiros, in his hands. While she would hardly classify Fraldarius as the barren north or as a poor dynasty, receiving the newspaper was an ordeal, and it was hardly a necessity for them to have it delivered by Pegasus messenger every day.

Sure enough, pro forma, Byleth found him there now, sipping on his bitter, stimulant tea. His white tunic had the buttons undone, probably as a result of some tossing overnight, and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows. His face was complemented with a pair of wire-framed reading glasses perched on his nose, a small frown in between his eyes as he focused on the article he was reading.

“Felix, dear.” Byleth said as she approached, placing a hand on his broad shoulder as she passes.

He looked up at her, his eyebrow raised, and waited for her to continue, his mind clearly still in the paper. His single-minded focus was both a blessing and a curse at times.

She sat in the chair next to him, watching him carefully. “It is day fourteen.”

“Day fourteen?” He replied in a puzzled voice. “No, it is the nineteenth of Lone Moon. The fourteenth was Monday, we went out for a ride along the river after mass, remember?”

Byleth could not help but smile at how absent-minded Felix could be. She stood up, pushing his newspaper to the table and climbing up onto his lap. He gave her an indulgent smile as she pulled off his glasses and kissed him, letting her tongue slide across his lips and then into his mouth. The swordsman’s hands gripped her hips, and he groaned as she ground herself against his dick.

“Byleth…” He breathed. “What…”

She brushed her lips against his ear, and then whispered to him. “Put a baby in me, Felix.”

“Oh.” Felix uttered the single word in understanding, and his smile widened and turned wicked. “Day fourteen.”

With one smooth move, he had bundled her in his arms, stood from the chair, and let her warp them both to the Duke’s chambers, to the welcoming four-poster bed that seen them made many of an attempt by now.

If Felix had had his way, they would have tried for a baby as soon as they were married. While he was anointed as the new Duke Fraldarius, and so in permanent need of an heir, he had an uncle and many cousins to fill this role for as long as he wanted them to. No, his desire was not born out of necessity, like many a noble in Fódlan, but rather of a queer instinct to see the woman he loved most carrying his son.

Alas, Byleth needed some time for herself first, she needed to get a hold on what would be her role in the Church of Seiros for then on, and she said it would do well for them to enjoy the first few years of their marriage without the added responsibility of a child. Felix had been happy enough to follow her lead, as she was very persuasive when she wanted to, and there was no rush, after all.

As much as the Duke accused and complained about the animalistic inclinations of his sovereign, he was no different when it came to his wife, and so her future pregancy was always on his mind. Even with them both taking contraceptive herbs, when he came in her he fought the urge to hold her in place around his cock, to give his come little chance to escape from her.

Now that they were trying for real, Felix was happy to fill Byleth completely, to fuck her again and again until his seed took hold and his baby began to grow in her belly.

They landed in their room, still tangled in each other, and the blue-haired man lifted her easily and threw her down on the bed. He quickly stripped his own clothes off, the Duchess leaning back on the mattress and watching him. She made no move to remove any of her own clothes, knowing full well that Felix liked to do that himself.

He climbed up onto the mattress and crawled on his hands and knees over to her, a predatory look in his dark blue eyes.

“I am going to make you come for me, then I am going to fuck you until there is a baby growing inside you.” He promised, kissing her belly lightly over her clothes. “You are going to look so beautiful when your belly gets big.”

He started to undo the buttons on her shirt, pushing the material aside and kissing her stomach again, this time on her skin. Byleth sighed and her hands found their way into his hair, stroking his head the way he loved. He paused a moment against her warm skin and then kissed up along her ribs, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra before pulling that and her shirt off completely.

Felix made quick work of pulling off her skirts and smallclothes, his fingers trailing her entrance and sliding into her, teasing her with his fingers before swirling around her clit and kissing her neck and her breasts until she clenched around him and came with a cry of his name.

She reached down to grab his cock in her hand, thrusting a few times until he was breathing heavily against her, all thoughts gone from his mind except the urge to sink himself deep inside of her.

“I want you to take me now.” Byleth whispered, her lips brushing his ear. “Come inside me, give me your heir. Let me carry the Fraldarius heir for you, Felix.”

Felix groaned helplessly. She knew exactly what he wanted to hear. He had been in thrall to her wicked words ever since admitting that nothing got him hornier than the thought of getting her pregnant, of seeing her body blossom as she carried his child.

She shuffled under him and clasped her legs around his hips, opening herself to him and guiding his dick towards her.

“Fuck me, Felix.” She pleaded, and he sank into her with one long thrust.

Byleth moaned and arched her back underneath him, pushing her breasts against him, her hands once again curling in his hair.

“Goddess, Byleth.” He said in a strangled voice. “You feel so perfect. So fucking perfect.”

His hands grasped her waist, holding her in place as he fucked her, harder and harder as she panted and tightened around him. He knew full well he was not going to last much longer, and when Byleth scratched her nails down his back he was done.

“Fuck!” He groaned as he buried himself into her cunt and held her in place, breathing heavily as his come poured into her. “You feel that, sweetheart? Feel my come filling you up.”

He collapsed against her and nuzzled against her neck, keeping himself locked in her. “I am going to stay inside you, not letting any of this escape. I want to keep you filled with my come until you are filled with my baby instead.”

“I love you, Felix.” Byleth whispered, cradling his head against her voluptuous breasts. “You are going to be such a great dad.”

Felix kissed her alabaster skin, feeling himself soften inside her but not wanting to move away. Sometimes the ache for getting a child onto her felt physical, almost painful.

“As much as I love the trying, and I do love it so…” Felix murmured as she carried on stroking his long hair, which came undone during the intense lovemaking earlier. “I cannot wait until it really happens.”

Byleth’s hand on his head stilled, and he lifted his head from her body to look at her. There was a spark of something he could not quite place in her eyes.

“About that…” She began evasively, her fingers tracing distracted patterns on the back of his neck. “I may have lied when I said it was day fourteen.”

Felix’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Dearest?” He asked quietly. “Is something on the matter?”

She looked down at him, her minty eyes finally meeting his. Her lips quirked slowly, almost shyly.

“It actually more like weeks…” The green-haired woman whispered conspiratorially. “Eight weeks, give or take.”

For a moment they were silent, Felix not trusting himself to speak straight away.

“We made a baby?” he asked in little more than a hopeful whisper, his hand dropping to lightly rest on her stomach.

Byleth’s smile, a rare display of the wide variety, was blinding. She traced his cheekbones with her fingertips, trailing them against his lips.

“We made a baby, Felix.”

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

#fire emblem #felix fraldarius

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thepandapopo · 4 years ago

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His Star - Chapter 2: Proposals

Can I get this out before midnight? who knows. But I’m determined to at least bang this chapter out in one sitting because it was Claude’s birthday yesterday damn it and I told myself that for his birthday, I would post at least 2 chapters to this fic, bake him a cake, and have a perfect tea time with myself.

So far everything has been accomplished except for the second chapter. so HERE WE GO.

Pairing: Claude x F!Byleth

In which Claude proposes a vacation to Byleth which may or may not be stress free, and may or may not include going back to Almyra with him so that he can court her properly.

The one where Claude schemes to take his star home so that he can finally get started on his plans to make an honest woman out of her... and also get his parents off his back.

Chapter List

1 / 2 / 2.5

Masterlist

If you would like to be added to a tag list whenever I update, please let me know!

XxXxXxXxX

Of all the things Claude expected to come back to, Byleth falling off a cliff was not one of them.

In fact, after the first time he watched her fall off a cliff following the Battle of Garreg Mach, he never wanted to see it ever again. So when he was faced with his greatest fear for the second time - no no no, she couldn’t leave him again - he had not hesitated to throw caution to the wind and abandon his position at the head of his army. He had dug his heels into Zahra’s flank and as always, the white wyvern was on the same page as her master, flying faster than she had ever flown before towards the falling queen.

Claude was used to any physical contact with Byleth feeling electric, like little shocks of pleasure shooting from his nerves and sending shivers down his spine, but when he caught her in his arms, he was alarmed by how hot her skin felt even through the thick leather of his gloves.

It was clear that Byleth was ill. Extremely ill. And yet she pushed herself to her very limits, standing at the front lines with her soldiers to show them that no matter what, she was with them because she believed in a world of peace.

She believed in his dream.

Suddenly, the fear that gripped his heart mere moments ago gives way to a fiery hot rage that burns through his body.

Byleth has done enough for Fodlan. She has fought countless battles, pushed her body to the very limits, and even carried the burden of having the powers of a goddess (”Teach, you’re joking, right? What do you mean you can turn back time?” “It is exactly what I said, Claude.”).

And now these stragglers and remnants of the Imperial army and Those Who Slither in the Dark come once more to try and revive their warped plans?

There are many things that Byleth deserves, Claude thinks, and being able to lay in bed recovering from a cold without worrying about crazy delusional dark mages is probably near the top of that list.

So when the newly crowned King finally makes it to Marianne and entrusts his secret fiance to her care, he no longer has his usual mask of cheerful indifference. Instead, storm clouds roil and darken his visage, verdant eyes sharp and blazing with cold, calculating determination.

Claude doesn’t remember how many enemies he shoots down that day. But he does know that it isn’t enough to quell the fury that simmers beneath his skin.

----

It is four days after the battle before Byleth finally regains consciousness.

Much to his chagrin, Claude is not there by her side when she rejoins the land of the conscious. In the aftermath of the battle, he resolves to step up and help Byleth with some of her duties while she is recovering. Which is exactly how Claude has found himself in the middle of a dreadfully exasperating conversation with Count Gloucester going over resource allocation for the umpteenth time. Thankfully, the servant chooses this time to burst through the door with the news.

“Your majesty!! She’s awake!”

The words are barely registering in his brain before he is moving, hastily throwing half-hearted apologies towards the clearly disgruntled Count, and rushing out the door.

He makes it to her room in record time. And he knows this because he has timed how long it takes to get to her room from any location in the castle, just in case he needs to get to her quickly.

Sitting upright against a mountain of pillows and bathed in the sunlight from the open terrace doors, Byleth is a vision for sore eyes.

He opens his mouth to speak and cannot help but slip back into the playful banter that he is so used to.

“Teach, we really gotta talk about you and cliffs. I don’t think it’s working out in your favor.”

Claude distantly wonders if maybe he should have said something more romantic, or even just a simply inquiry about her health, but those options don’t sit right with him.

She loves him for who he is, and that includes his old habits and light quips.

She is staring at him like he is a ghost, and really, he cannot blame her. The bed sinks a little with his weight and he reaches out to brush a stray lock of mint so that he can see those beautiful eyes that he missed so dearly.

It has been a long six and a half months since he left her at the top of the Goddess Tower. Probably even more shocking yet, he has since ascended the Almyran throne and that feat itself is quite evident from the brightly coloured and extravagant robes that he now dons on a daily basis.

“What’s the matter, Teach? Cat got your- oof!”

She crashes into him without warning and he is immediately reminded of how solidly built she actually is. Byleth is a fighter first and foremost, after all. Claude should have known that a few months behind a desk tending to paperwork wouldn’t have been enough to deteriorate the wall of lean muscle she has built over years of mercenary work.

“I... You... you’re really here?”

Oh, Goddess. He has missed her voice.

His arms snake around her, one coming to a rest across her lower back, pulling her smaller form closer to him as the other hand snakes its way into her hair.

Lips against her temple, he gifts her with a gentle kiss before humming his reply against her skin.

“I am, my love. I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

Neither of them can bring themselves to separate, not when this moment feels so much like a dream that could dissolve at any second. Instead, they trade quiet whispers of affection that do not even come close to reflecting the longing and yearning they have experienced since they parted ways.

The sun is beginning to fall below the horizon by the time they manage to pull apart for longer than a heartbeat. Byleth has long since scooted over and pulled Claude under the covers so that they can lay side by side rather than perched uncomfortably at the edge of her bed.

He lets out a pleasant hum when her fingers begin carding through his hair, slender fingers parting his thick brown hair and smoothing it down the back of his head.

“So...”

He knows that tone. He’s been on the receiving end of it multiple times, mostly back in his schooldays when she catches him red handed with a vial of his latest experiment uncorked and ready to pour into someone’s meal.

“King now, is it?”

“Er... yeah.” He ignores the urge to scratch his neck sheepishly and opts to bury his face in her shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of blade oil and jasmine that is unique to Byleth.

“King Khalid.”

Ah crap.

He lifts his sheepish expression to meet her narrowed eyes, “By, you have to believe me when I say I was going to tell you. But I had to sort a lot of things out first.”

He brings their hands up under the fading sunlight and verdant eyes shift to look at their intertwined fingers.“You know already that I am part Almyran. And I told you before I left that I had some...royal connections -”

“I believe you described them as ‘insignificant’.” As usual, her memory and mind are as sharp as her sword and he knows that he cannot weasel his way out of this situation.

“Haha... did I say that? I mean, even though technically I was the crown Prince, it’s not like I was guaranteed the throne. Almyrian traditions are a bit different than here in Fodlan.”

He’s half expecting her to throw another quip back at him about another one of the ways he’s botched this whole thing up, but to his surprise, she merely stares at him with those unwavering green eyes and nods for him to continue.

It’s now or never. He may not have been able to be completely truthful with her before, but now those obligations and promises that veiled his truths no longer bind him.

So he tells her. He tells her about his mother and how she made him promise to keep his identity a secret. He tells her about his promise to his father that he would return home to put his name in the running for the throne when it was time for his father to step down. He tells her about the fights and trials that he had to go through to beat out all the other contenders to prove his strength and abilities as a leader and King. And finally, he tells her of how he took the title of King of Almyra and how it took several weeks for him to get everything under control, only to get intelligence that Those Who Slither in the Dark were plotting one last stand, and how he barely had time to muster his army and march at full speed to make it to her side in time.

When he is finished, Byleth is silent and for a moment, he fears that perhaps it is all too much for her. There is a nasty voice in his heart of hearts, quiet though it may be, that whispers that maybe she has decided that she no longer wants to be with him because how can she trust a man whose real name she didn’t even know?

When he finally musters enough courage to meet her eyes again, his heart does a funny little flop in his chest and the back of his eyes burn with the familiar sting of tears.

Byleth may not be a woman of many words, but the firm squeeze of his hand and steady, soft gaze says everything he needs to know.

I understand. And I love you.

He wheezes out a chuckle and brings her hand to his lips, kissing the digits almost reverently. “I wanted to tell you before I proposed to you, but I needed to honor the promises I made to Mother and Baba. Trust me when I say the first thing I did when I went home was ask them to relieve me of those burdens.”

“Did...did they ask why?” Her voice is hesitant, even as the question leaves her tongue.

Goddess, just once he would like to be able to pull the wool over her eyes, but as usual, Teach is sharp on the uptake and Claude really cannot get anything by her.

He reaches up to finger the emerald ring hanging from a silver chain around her neck, dragging out the silence as long as possible before giving the answer he knows she is dreading.

“I maaaay have told them that I had a certain special someone in mind that I wanted to introduce them to...” His sentence trails off into laughter as he watches the horror creep into his beloved’s expression.

Byleth Eisner. The Ashen Demon. The first leader of the United Kingdom of Fodlan. The Hero of Fodlan.

Claude finds it hilarious that the woman he loves can carry such daunting titles and face an army head on with no fear, but is absolutely terrified of the idea of meeting her future in-laws.

“Khalid-” he likes the way his real name sounds coming from her lips, even if it is a horrified gasp. “-I can’t. I don’t even know what to do! I’m not a noble and I don’t know anything about etiquette on meeting royalty from a foreign country, much less your parents.”

“Aww, don’t worry Teach! You’ll be perfectly fine, just like when you joined the Alliance Round Table for the first time.” He winks at her, biting his cheek to stop the laughter that is threatening to bubble over.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I also have a country to run. One that you so gladly dumped on my lap before escaping across Fodlan’s Throat.”

She must be desperate now if she is willing to hide behind her duties.

“Not to fret, my dear.” He leans over to place a chaste peck on the tip of her nose, flashing her his signature wink and grin afterwards. “I’ve already cleared it with Seteth. After all, it was the stress from the non stop work that caused you to fall ill in the first place, right? I simply proposed that you could take a month or two off from your duties to relax and recover from your injuries-”

“-I have no injuries-”

“-and maybe come back with me to Almyra for a little vacation.”

While she doesn’t officially reject his proposition, he does receive her reluctant acceptance in the form of several pillows being chucked unceremoniously at his head.

XxXxXxXxX

I’M TERRIBLE AT WRITING ENDINGS. I promise I’ll come back later to fix this one up too.

Hope you all liked chapter 2!!

Note: I did NOT get this out before midnight. It is currently 1:56AM.

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#Claudeleth #claude von riegan #Byleth eisner #claude x byleth #F!byleth #my writing #popo writes #fanfiction #fire emblem #3 houses #fire emblem 3 houses #FE3H #post cannon #Post S rank support

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whirlybirbs · 5 years ago

Note

all I can think abt is how cozy obi looks in that one gifset in his robes in rots & now I’m thinking about sith!obi just looking like a cute lil thing in his huge dramatic sith robes.,

a/n: this spurred the next installment in “fortem is tiptoeing around his feelings while the senator leaps around them”, read the whole work on ao3!

He wakes to sound of something sizzling in a pan on the oven, the smell wafting over to his perch among the cushions on your sofa.

The Sith inhales long and slow, pulling his eyes open as he shifts in the small nest he’d burrowed himself into throughout the night -- the two blankets you’d provided, plush and soft, are around his legs and his robe is balled up beneath his head, making him look like he’s drowning in a river of bedding. He can feel a crick in his neck from the odd angle he’d dozed off in, having been guarding the apartment with more seriousness than he’d originally anticipated.

He couldn’t help it, though, after you’d ambled from your room at an odd hour with anxiety painted over your usually stoic features. It was... out of character for you. Though, the Sith couldn’t blame you. There’d been an attempt on your life earlier that night. Sleep, for many, wouldn’t come easy after a threat to that degree. Even for an icy, powerful, young Senator who has a Sith Lord wrapped around her very thumb.

Fortem exhales. He pulls himself upright and blinks blearily over the back of the couch at the morning sun streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows.

When in the seven hells did she pull the shades up? Had he really slept through that?

The morning traffic has already begun, the sound of the air-lanes humming by. It dances on the plush, maroon carpet. The light is soft, warm and sweet -- the exact opposite of how Fortem looks right about now.

He has to fight the temptation to fall back into the cushions.

Fortem’s hair is strewn about, with his auburn cowlick pointing straight up, yet simultaneously in every direction possible. His black under-tunic is the only thing around his shoulders. After all, he’d hucked his top robes off his body in a flash of heat in the middle of the night. Your apartment had been freezing one minute, then unbearably hot the next. He was trying to get comfortable.

Fortem scratches his beard as he swings his legs off the couch. Woolen socks meet the carpet and he cracks his neck, rubs his face, all before being greeted with a soft laugh from your direction.

You’re slipping a prevva egg omelette onto a plate for him as you speak, gaze lingering on the sleepy Sith from your spot at the kitchen’s island.

“I was worried you’d gone and died in your sleep, Darth Fortem.”

Fortem groans and stands, moving to snatch his tunic and tug it over his head. As he does, you spy the hem of his long-sleeve lift, showing a trail of hair up his abdomen that matches that of his beard along with dark Dathomirian tattoos -- you pretend having not caught the sight, lowering your eyes as you fix yourself a plate for breakfast while he clears his throat and moves to fix the mess he’d made of the couch in his sleep.

And his hair. Gods, his hair is a mess. Atrocious. He fusses it down.

His is hoarse with sleep when he finally speaks. “I might as well have. How long have you been up, then?”

“Not long,” you tut, switching off the oven and gathering the two plates. You move gracefully across the apartment, dropping the plates at their spots on the dining table outlooking the air-lanes of Coruscant’s morning traffic. It’s practiced, and Fortem wonders if you’ve made breakfast for many overnight guests before.

He steps from the sofa, moving towards the table that you’ve settled at -- you sit unlike he’s seen before. One leg pulled to your chest, arms leaned around to dig at the omelette on the delicate china plate. Your fork and knife tinker softly against the setting as you drop a bite into your mouth and chew.

You look softer -- less... dangerous. Fortem wonders if it’s the warm light of the morning, or the domesticity radiating from your actions. He settles down at the table without a word, golden eyes glued to you the entire time he moves.

You shift in your seat as Fortem chews, happily realizing you are a good cook; he spares you a sheepish look as he digs in for another bite.

“Hungry?” you ask softly after swallowing your mouthful, a polished example of etiquette even in the informal setting of a hit-man and his employer eating breakfast together, “There’s another carton in the fridge --”

“You didn’t need to feed me.”

“I don’t have guests often,” you shrug, “It’s rare I cook for someone aside from myself -- and you did pluck me from a free-fall last night. This is the least I could do for saving my life.”

You gather your napkin from your lap, placing your fork and knife down as you stand -- Fortem continues his endeavor on finishing his plate, stealing a side-ways glance as you move across the apartment. You snatch something from the counter, then sit back down.

You’re still in your robe from the night before, hair relaxed and face bare -- he spies a glimmer of gold along your neckline and tries his best not to stare at your décolletage as you slide a platinum card his way.

Manicured nails recoil as his face warps in confusion.

“Your payment.”

His mouth is full. He chews quickly, eyeing you and the card and you again, before snagging the credit crypto-card with a measured level of scrutiny.

He’s only seen these a handful of times before -- but it makes sense. It’s an account, essentially, operating off your usual banking chain-code and heavily encrypted. Maul had once copped a collection of these little beauties; not even the best cryto-pirates in the guild had been able to slice the binds off the credit transfer system.

Reliable, clean, secretive.

Perfect payment for a man of Fortem’s caliber.

His brows are knotted. “I’ve not delivered my end of the --”

“The deal has changed,” you mutter, “I think it’s fair to say.”

His fork wavers in the air. Golden eyes blink at you.

“I’d like to keep you around,” you say finally, digging around your omelette and pushing the egg about on your plate, “Until this is sorted and I find out who is trying to ensure I end up dead... For the price of triple our original agreement, if you agree.”

“Forget the price.”

You balk.

He doesn’t even look up, just forks another mouthful and chews. Fortem’s jaw tightens as he does which gives you a better view of the tattoos along the column of his throat and neck. They’re jagged and puzzle-like, running like deep rivers across his skin. They disappear beneath his collar and the stubble of his beard. You wonder if they’re everywhere; his chest, of course, but his arms? Legs? Back?

You can see the edges of some peeking out from the hem of his under-tunic’s cuff, darting up his wrist. Typically, his hands are hidden beneath jet-black, leather gloves. But now, in the morning sun, you can see the callouses and scars alongs his knuckles from years of fighting.

His gaze meets yours. “I am serious, stop looking at me like that.”

“... Why?”

A shrug. He tosses his napkin onto his now empty plate and sits back. He crosses his arms and shrugs. Fortem speaks slowly, ignoring the annoyed wane of his heart and mindful logic as he does.

“Wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me to take advantage of a kind Senator in need, would it?”

You narrow your eyes, albeit playfully. “And what of serving your best interest?”

Fortem shrugs. “You said it yourself; things have changed.”

His lips quirk and your face plays at something just as amused. Your lashes flutter, a scoff on your tongue, when suddenly, there’s a call at the door.

A sharp knock, followed by the buzzer announcing loudly:

“-- Senator, Sir Praze from the Financial District is here for you.”

Your head whips up from the meal.

Fortem makes a face.

Instantly, you’ve sprung up; your eyes are wider than ever, face contorting into an expression that fleets between worry and fear and anxiety all at the same time. Fortem screws his brow as you usher him up with hushed words and gentle hands.

“Get up,” you hiss, “Into the bedroom.”

“What?”

You move quickly across the room, hands pressing the buzzer as you speak cooly into it. “One moment. Send him up.”

Fortem is confused -- but suddenly realizes that you’re about to receive a guest... and can’t help but snort. You swat away any remarks he’s about to croon your way with your hand, opening the door to your bedroom and nearly shoving him in.

“Stay here and,” you bite your tongue, “Just... be quiet, Fortem, please.”

He leans on the door frame.

“So ashamed of me, dear?”

“Terribly,” you bite, smacking his arm away as you close the door, grumbling as you do, “Please! This... of course he’d show up --”

Fortem is then left with the sight of your door as you hurry away and slam it quickly in a haze.

From the other side of the door, he hears you greet someone -- this Sir Praze character, he assumes -- rather stiffly before a moment of silence washes over the room and Fortem has to lean his ear to the door to get a good listen.

“My love, I’d been so worried.”

... Oh. How curious.

#bone-picked teeth #sith!obi-wan x reader

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crewhonk · 5 years ago

Text

Only Happy Accidents (8)

Warnings: fluff. Holy shit so much fluff. happy Steeb and YN. Nursery decoration.

Songs: “Better Man”-- James Morrison

AN: lol, a short chapter and I wrote this a while ago so rip. Octobers chilled out from here on out (three midterms and two reports are out of the way) so I'm not promising more frequent updates but keep ur eyes peeled!

Masterlist

_________________________

March 27, 20th Week

Life was good, Steve thought, as he woke up on YN’s chest, her hands scratching his scalp absently as they both woke up. His hair was getting longer, and his beard was growing thicker and his abs were disappearing slightly and there was no rush to change any of it since YN made worshipping his incoming dad body a part of her daily second-trimester-hormone routine.

He and YN had gone to another appointment yesterday, and the pictures f the baby’s face were getting more and more clear— the baby definitely did have her chin, and he definitely had his nose and despite him being so squished, Steve thought his kid was going to be the prettiest thing on the world.

“Morning, Sweetheart.” He murmured softly as he breathed in deep, eyes opening finally and looking up at his girl.

“Morning, handsome. How you feeling?” She asked. They’d gotten carried away the night before and knew they would both be sore for a handful of days after. It was true— his thighs and hips were sore and judging by the look of the red swollen marks on her breasts and neck, she would be sore too.

“‘M perfect.” He replied, kissing her softly and making her sigh.

“Yeah you are.” She chuckled and he closed his eyes again.

“What’s the plan today, Ma?” He asked, and she hummed.

“Well, we have the cake testing, the flower picking and the centre piece arrangements to finalize and then I wanted to get started on the nursery cause all the furniture is supposed to arrive today.” She hashed out and he crooned, kissing her chest and up to her neck.

“What times are the appointments?” He asked, making his way up to kiss her jaw and cheek and chin.

“Nine.” She whispered, scratching his scalp harder and making him grunt. He looked over to the clock and smirked, he had plenty of time before she’d want to leave at eight. So, he pulled the covers over them and kissed her soundly— in this temple made of sheets, he would make his best girl pray.

_________________________

“You’re glowing. Really you are—are you sure you’re not the one that’s pregnant?” Sam asked, laughing as he slammed Steve hard into the mat and knocking the air out of his lungs. Things at the Rogers-YLN house were really, really great and it showed in the way Steve walked, and spoke, and fought and breathed. If Sam, Bucky and Natasha weren’t so damn happy for him, they’d want him one million miles away, and even then it wouldn’t be enough to get out of the glow that surrounded Steve.

“Nah, he’s just finally bucked up and made his fiancee have an orgasm for the first time in five months.” Natasha called out, making Bucky choke on his water and Sam drop his grip on Steve as he tried to help him up.

“Wait, what?” Bucky choked, and Steve flushed red.

“Yeah, he and YN hadn’t had sex since Halloween and I finally convinced him he wouldn’t hurt the baby or YN if he got his dick wet.” Natasha jested and rubbed Bucky’s back who was still trying to clear his windpipe of water. Sam only laughed harder, falling onto the mat beside Steve.

“You’re so stupid, holy shit.” Sam crowed and didn’t even protest when Steve shoved him two feet across the floor.

“You know what?” Steve said, smiling despite his friends making relentless fun of him. “I have a beautiful girlfriend at home who is pregnant with my child and hyped up on pregnancy hormones. I don’t have to put up with this.” He laughed and swiped his towel from the floor beside the benches. Natasha joined Sam in his giggles and Bucky snorted.

“You’re like a catholic rabbit, Jesus Christ.” Bucky chuckled, watching as Steve’s cheeks deepened in colour and as he held his water bottle in front of his groin. “You’re nasty.”

Steve’s eyes flickered over to Natasha who was snorting at his expense and raised his eyebrows at the couple. “You’re both no better— Sam tells me everything, especially about the noises you two make on a daily basis.” He pointed his finger accusingly at his life partners and Sam only laughed harder as Bucky and Natasha avoided eye contact with each other. Steve, on the hunt for blood, turned to Sam who was still on the floor and kicked him lightly in the ribs.

“And at least me and those two are getting some.” Steve grinned down sneakily at Sam as his face warped into something that resembled offence. Steve clapped his hands and pulled his sweater over his head.

“Now, I’m going to go home and help my baby mama start setting the nursery up.” And with a salute, Steve left the gym, awed silence in his wake and a skip in his step.

___________________________

“Ma? I’m home! Where are you?” Steve asked, walking through the foyer and into the living room, stopping short at the sight of countless boxes that had arrived yesterday and were now destroyed. There was wrapping across the room and it looked as if a tornado had swept through the apartment.

“Babe?” Steve asked, throwing his keys and wallet onto the counter. YN’s head poked up shortly, and a wide smile appeared across her face when she saw him. With little difficulty, YN heaved herself off the floor and stumbled over boxes to Steve. Steve only had a few seconds to take in her maternity overalls and baggy sweater (both of which showed off her stomach) before he wrapped his arm around her waist, cupped her neck, and kissed her sweetly.

“I forgot how hard it is to build Ikea furniture.” YN smiled, excitement radiating off of her person. She pulled him over to her mess (organized chaos, she said) and began pointing at things.

“This is the diaper station— that only took two hours and then now, I’m working on the crib, which I had to already take apart once because I tried to do it in Spanish but I forgot most of the Spanish I learned in university so— woo!” She yelped as Steve spun her around and pulled her to straddle his lap on the couch.

“Hi.” He smiled up at her and she seemingly melted into his lap, hands coming to scratch his scalp the way that made him purr. He tilted his chin up and pursed his lips, hinting for a kiss when she snorted at and leaned in, meeting her lips with his and sighing happily. Her hormones today were less of an issue, but that didn’t mean they didn’t wake up like a dormant beast whenever she caught a whiff of Steve’s musky post-training smell.

“I need to get off of you because if I don’t we won’t get anything done ever.” She hummed, pecking his lips twice and once more for good luck before stumbling off of him and returning to her place in front of what would be the place his son would sleep. Before his heart could flutter and his knees could go weak at the idea, YN looked up at him.

“Your paints came in if you want to get started on the walls— I know that’s something you wanted to do, and I think I’d actually kill you if you tried to help me build all this.” She smiled and he jumped up and walked over to her and crouched down, pulling her into an elated kiss, making her giggle against his mouth.

“I love you. Thank you.” He murmured, kissing her again and standing, walking back to the hallway.

“Hey, Steve?” She piped up and he turned to look back at her. “You gonna tell me what you’re doing in there?”

“Nope!” He replied, smiling at her scoff.

“No guns or American flags, Captain!” She called out and despite himself, he threw his head back and laughed, closing the door to his used-to-be-office and opening the window. There were paints there already, in all colours and new paintbrushes he’d ordered online, and a record player he’d put there last night along with his favourite records. Today was a good day.

This was a good life.

_____________________

The two spent a few hours doing their own tasks, reconvening in the kitchen for brief snacks and glasses of water and stolen kisses on countertops. Then, after one of the two managed to pull away from the other, there would be a tap on the bum accompanied with a quick smirk and farewell before disappearing in a pile of paints or boxes.

YN shut the door behind her, leaning against it and catching her breath. The elevator was down for maintenance, and knowing Steve would probably lecture her on it, had brought down all the boxes and packaging to the dumpster by herself. It had only taken three trips, but she was well and truly tired now and ready to just crawl into bed with her boyfriend and sleep for years.

Speaking of which, she hadn’t seen him in a while. She walked through her neat rows of white baby furniture lining the hallway and came up to the closed door. She pressed her ear to the door and smiled softly to herself at the sounds she heard. There was the scratching sound of Steve’s record along with the cool-far away sounds of the city outside of their small paradise of warmth.

And Steve’s voice.

It was a little flat, a little off tune, but perfect all the same as he sang softly to the song playing on the record. Somehow, his voice sounded like a perfect pair with the crooning, warbling sound of Billie Holiday— an everlasting, classic sound that made YN’s heart flutter in her chest. In only a few months time, she could be hearing this same scenario— just opening the door this time to see Steve in all of his hulking self curled around the smallest baby girl and cooing soft songs and poems to her as if she was his whole damn world.

The back of her knuckles rapped against the heavy oak of the door and his singing stopped immediately.

“‘Lo?” He called.

“You almost done, baby? ‘M goin’ to bed soon.” She called back and she could hear Steve place his brushes into the jar and shove some garbage into a bag before the door opened just enough for his face to poke through.

“Close your eyes.” He whispered, and she giggled before doing so, feeling the breeze of Steve opening the door and stepping around her, covering her eyes with his hot hands and leading her into the room. It seemed they were walking forever before they stopped, and YN could have vibrated with the excitement she felt. She could smell the scent of acrylic and oil and gouache.

“Steve can I look?” She whispered eagerly and he kissed the crook of her neck before stepping back. She could hear him move slightly behind her, but she kept her eyes closed obediently.

“In three, two, one, open your eyes, Ma.” He said, a nervous shake in his voice.

What YN saw made her heart stop in all its entirety. The room was no longer the pale grey of his office, but was now filled to the brim with vibrant colours of the jungle. Detailed trees crowded the walls and seemed to somehow make the room three times bigger. There were animals in and around the trees, and she walked forward to look at them closer, a hand covering her mouth in awe. There were small rodents hiding around the frame of the window, large eyes looking as if they would blink at her if she stared too long. Curled at the base of a tree, there was a brightly coloured tiger with individual hairs and eyes that made a chill go up YN’s spine. Her hand fell to her belly as she continued to walk around the room, staring only at the walls. There was an elephant against the adjacent wall, and a monkey in the top corner— on the other side of the room, there was a gorilla with a baby strapped to her back, and Yn sniffed and wiped her eyes, turning to Steve who was still standing behind her.

Except he wasn’t standing at all.

He was on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand and an impossibly nervous look in his eye.

“Steven Grant.” YN whispered, shaking from head to toe, rooted to the spot several feet away from him.

“YN, I know we’re already technically engaged, but please. Hear me out.” He waited for her to make any form of protest and when she didn’t, he sucked in a nervous breath and began to talk.

“On Halloween when I had taken you home, I’d never expected for any of this to happen. I never expected to end up with a family. I never expected my life would feel so full and I never expected I would ever be this happy. Most of all, I never expected that I would love you as much as I do.” He started, and YN walked a few steps closer as he opened the box. The ring was simple— a single gold band with one single diamond on it— classic, beautiful.

“But I do love you more than I ever thought I could and that love grows more and more each passing day. You make me a better man— the man my mom would have always wanted me to be. You make me a man who I’m proud to be. You, in all your glory and kindness and sass and unbent beauty make me a better man, and I want to be a better man for you for the rest of my life if you’ll let me.” He sniffed, tears flowing freely from his eyes. YN whimpered, hand on her belly and over her mouth to stop the sobs boiling in her chest and ruining his speech.

“YN YLN, I know we’re already engaged, but I want you to have this ring. I want to genuinely marry you because I’ve fallen so, helplessly, unfalteringly, unabashedly in love with you and I want to marry you, so, I guess I should ask, huh?” He cried, wiping his face with his sleeve and looking up at her. She nodded eagerly, bouncing eagerly from one ball of her foot to the next like an over-excited puppy.

“Will you do me the honour of marrying this old man?” He asked and YN stood, eyes glued to the ring in his hands, frozen.

“YN?” He breathed nervously at her lack of response.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you— I mean I was already gonna marry you but yes.” She cried, falling to her knees in front of him. They wrapped their arms around each other, and cried. She pressed her mouth to his in a desperate kiss and he swallowed her sobs, replacing them with his own.

“I love you, baby.” He sobbed, pulling back and grabbing her hand. He took her still-bare ring finger and slipped the ring on like it was always meant to be there. It glittered softly under the lighting of the Jungle Room they were kneeling in the middle of and she pulled his face closer to her, kissing him again softly.

“I love you more, Steve Rogers. How did I ever come to deserve someone as good as you, huh?” She whispered, wiping her tears with the tips of her fingers and wrapping her fists in the soft grey fabric of his t-shirt.

“Well I was just about to ask out he same question.” He smiled brightly. Steve Rogers was getting married to the love of his life. Getting married to his Persephone, his Eurydice, his Jane Eyre, his Elizabeth Bennett.

His YN YLN.

And as he coasted her around the room in his arms, their faces tucked into each other, Steve Rogers swore he never existed before this moment.

____________________

Tag List (send me an ask, ONLY. must interact with the fic more than a like): yesfanficsaremylife / notyourtypicalrose / laurxn-robinson / disaster-rose / lille-kattunge / wwecrazed2010 / vxidnik / chewingoffmyfoot/ vitamingrant / captainamericasbeard / chrisgalore / songforhema / mmyepic / multifandommandy / tommyhoe / lostdarksoul6 / crist1216 / taeeemin / jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory / feelmyroarrrr / teller258316 / mrsdeanwinchester19 / qrangr / mariswritingforfun / nerdypinupcrystal / kittycatlover18 / laucontrerasv / printedpeterparker / @dumblani / @captainomad / eversonaive / rainbowkisses31 / i-think-i-am-adorable / rainbowkisses31 / smalltintedgorl /

#steve rogers x reader #rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #steve rogers smut #steve rogers soulmate #steve rogers series #Steve Rogers smut #Steve Rogers drabble #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #Dad!Steve #dad!steve rogers

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thevirtualcanvas · 5 years ago

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You don’t really know someone until you go on a desert island together ~

Steven's birthday aka the time Connie lured Steven to Watermelon island because I don’t want Steven to be sad anymore.

Yesterday was a really angsty piece. Today we get to see how he gets his first kiss. Hope you’re all ready for some proper fluff.

“Cmon Steven! We're almost there!”

They were on Watermelon Island, he knew that much. The first thing that gave it away was, well, he was the one that warped them there. The second was the split mountain that hung over his head behind the now fixed warped pad. The third thing was the party of Watermelon-Stevens that welcomed them with a bubbly joy, dragging him by one hand as Connie took the other.

“Connie, where are we going? There's so much to be done before little homeschool opens. My itinerary is clogged,” he thought of the planner on his phone, full of meetings, and jobs and far too many things to do.

Her laughter was infectious, her bright eyes warmed Steven's cheeks. “Well, Mr. Itinerary, I cleared your calendar for the day. Little home-world will just have to do without you, for a couple of hours anyway.”

“Connieeee,” he whined, haphazardly. It was so nice to see her, between his work orchestrating repairs after Spinel, integration of the gems, and meetings with his space Aunts; and Connie's high workload from school and her Mom they saw each other in glimpses. Mostly through video chats and the occasional moonlit jaunt via Lion. So holding her hand, and being led through the crystal jungle of the watermelon island – he could think of worse days to spend his birthday.

The palm trees gave way, the grass turned to sand and a beautiful cacophony of blues decorated the horizon, Steven had forgotten how nice it was here, relaxing even. On the sand sat a banner – Happy 16th Birthday Steven in Connie's lovely cursive handwriting. Beneath that was a picnic basket, blanket, his ukulele, and her violin and another batch of Watermelon-Steven's completing the finishing touches. He wasn't going to cry. Probably.

Connie held her hand out-stretched. “Ta-dah! Happy Birthday, Steven! You didn't think I'd forget, did you?”

“Connie, this is...this is incredible, thank you.”

He walked, enraptured by his surprise. The Watermelon-Stevens scampered to give them some privacy and peace. Steven kicked off his sandals, wriggled his toes in the sand, plonked himself down on the blanket and picked up his ukulele. The instrument had been sat in a stand on the shelf for months. Since the events of Spinel and her injector, he'd lost his child-like wonder, concerned that another attack could happen any moment, Steven had focused more on growing-up; putting away anything that would deem him childish, expanding little home-world, dealing with actual home-world and the Diamonds. His passion, his music, that had taken an unfortunate back-seat. He plucked at the strings, the sound reverberating through his fingers and up the length of his spine. Steven shivered, he missed this.

He took a deep breath, the first one in a long time, he listened to the sound of the ocean, the rustle of the palms and relaxing sounds of Connie breathing next to him. She plucked her violin first, playing and humming along to a creation of their own design.

The sun is bright, our shirts are clean.

Connie smiled brightly at him, loose strands of her pinned back hair danced among the breeze.

We're sitting up above the sea

Was her voice always this beautiful? It sounded like silk in his ears.

Come on and share this jam with me.

She looked at him expectantly, nodding her head as she strummed and hummed the tune. Carefully, slowly, Steven strummed along. In the back of his mind, he was worried he forgot, or worse, didn't want to. But that worry melted away at her sweet harmony, and sweeter face. As the mismatch of ukulele and violin merged tunes, Steven hummed in time with Connie, pulling up the unforgettable lyrics from his mind.

Peach or plum or strawberry.

Any kind is fine you see.

Come on and share this jam with me.

They played together, the simple chord a testament to their friendship, their devotion to one another and the memories of a simpler time. Playing again with Connie, it was the best present he could have ever asked for. To be in her presence, to forget about his responsibilities for just a little while – sure, her laugh, rich eyes, brilliant smile, lithe dexterous hands, and lean figure, made Steven a tad nervous and weak at the knees but it was Connie, his Connie and that was perfect.

I'll do my best to give this jam the sweetness it deserves ~

He sung at her, waggling his eyebrows in time to the vibrato, causing her to laugh, scrunching her nose.

And I'll keep it fresh.

Jammin' on these tasty preserves!

She sung back with enthusiasm, the fine strings of her violin plucking hard at her rocking out.

Steven's heart was racing, he hadn't felt this happy in months. Not true joy, not like this. Connie picked up her bow and slowed the rhythm down, ready for the climax of the song. Waiting on his queue, she watched her best friend carefully.

Ingredients in harmony.

We mix together perfectly.

Come on and share this jam with me.

The tune faded naturally, petering out in the ambiance of the ocean. They both breathed heavily, the duet taking more out of them then it would have done nearly 3 years ago. Steven placed his ukulele down, content, and Connie followed suit, keeping her eyes firmly on him. She moved closer, so their knees and hips were touching as they looked out onto the ocean.

“Jam buds, back in action,” Connie laughed, nudging him in the side. “Not bad, Mr. Itinerary.”

Steven snorted and nudged her back, taking off his sports jacket and wrapping it around his waist before leaning back into her. “I thought you're supposed to be nice on my birthday.”

“I am being nice,” she responded with a giggle. “Besides, this isn't the only thing I've planned for you. We're gonna have dinner with my parents, your dad and the gems later. Peridot is 'constructing' the birthday cake, my present for you is at the beach house and – ” She hummed and cleared her throat. A dusky hue rose on her cheeks.

“And?” Steven asked, curious.

Connie twiddled her fingers, puffed her cheeks and risked a glance at him. Steven had grown so much since dismantling the Diamond Authority. He was taller, give it another few months and he'd be taller than her for the first time in their friendship. His shoulders were broader, the material of the band shirt he wore stretched over his shoulder blades. His arms and legs had elongated, but she loved the way they felt around her. Connie felt a smug satisfaction whenever he would sit behind her, legs outstretched, arms around her neck. He would rest his chin against her shoulder as they watched a movie marathon, or Connie would read her newest book aloud to him. Steven's jaw, while still soft and round showed signs of a beard under the surface, the slightest five o'clock shadow discoloured his lower face. He would scratch absently, as if not quite used to this newfound adulthood. And what could she say, she'd noticed. Her jam bud was growing-up, and so was she.

“And...I have one more surprise. If you want it.”

His eyes lit up. “A secret present, what is it?” Steven pursed his lips and shook with joy. “Where are you hiding it? Do the Watermelon-Steven's have it? Oh man, I love surprises!”

She chuckled at his enthusiasm, this would make the next part of her surprise so much easier. He made everything easier. “Good to know you're not too old for surprise presents. Steven, do you trust me?”

He creased his brow, what kind of question was that. “Of course I do, Con. You're my best friend.”

Not for much longer if she had anything to say about it. This was a turning point in Connie's life. She loved Steven. She'd tell anyone as much. But recently a lot of mature thoughts crossed her mind; and between the trips in the Dondai, visits to the beach house and increasingly more tense sleepovers, Connie realised something. She loved Steven. Which didn't change much overall; she would do anything for him, want to be in his life for the rest of hers and, jam on the beach whenever possible. But she also wanted to kiss that adorable face of his.

“Good, so face me, and close your eyes. Keep 'em closed too. No peaking.” He complied, swiveled around, knees crossed, hands-on lap, and eyes locked tight.

Connie leaned forward, taking a sallow breath. She reached out of him, fingertips connecting with his cheeks warm at her touch. She could feel his cheeks dimple as he smiled, turning his head into her fingers. Connie brought her face closer, seeing the pores on his skin, his long lashes, and his soft pink lips.

His eyelids trembled a bit, like he was trying to search for her behind them. Connie, what are you – ”

“Don't peak,” she whispered, wetting her lips, running her fingers down to his neck and feeling as Steven hitches and freezes.

“Connie...” His breath felt hot against her lips, and name danced across her skin.

“Happy birthday, Steven.”

Her lips met his, certain, lacking confidence but wanting. They trembled against one another, this was new, scary and exciting all at once. Steven's hands mirrored hers, buried into the hair at the base of her neck, terrified to explore and desperate to hold. He turned his head, pressing his face further into hers. Button nose pressing into her cheek, tight curls brushed against her brow.

Connie pulled back, flustered, gasping for breath, hands around his neck, playing with the curls at his hairline. She licked her lips, tasting him against them.

Steven opened his eyes and touched his lips, feeling where Connie had just kissed him. He was shocked, giddy and he really wanted to do it again. He pressed his forehead against hers, interlocked his fingers around her back and grinned. How long had he daydreamed about this moment?

“Connie?”

“Yeah, Steven?”

“That was definitely a surprise.”

She snorted, rubbing her forehead against his. “I'm glad.”

He bit his lip, deep brown eyes reflected into hers. “Can we do it again?”

Their stomachs grumbled in tandem, Connie opened the picnic basket and reached for the sandwich on the top of the pile and shoved it into his mouth. “Maybe, after our picnic, and away from prying eyes.” She motioned to the sheepish group of Watermelon-Steven's half-poking out of the brush behind them. Some gave a little wave, others blew a kiss of their own.

“R-right,” Steven said with a mouthful of jam and bread.

Connie waved back to them before taking a sandwich of her own. She shuffled back up to Steven, her Steven and they enjoyed their picnic in peace and quiet. The tension was gone, replaced by a fondly remembered quiet comfort between them. His hand around her waist, her knee against his thigh, watching as the crystals danced in the shallow waters and the sun changed colour in the sky.

“Thanks for dragging me away from gem stuff,” he said after a while.

“You're welcome, it is your birthday, y'know.”

“I know... Connie?”

She turned to him, mid-afternoon light bringing out the warmth in her skin. “Yeah, Steven?”

His hands found her, connecting perfectly. He should just say it, he'd thought about it a million times before.

“I love you,” it was barely above a whisper, and he couldn't look her in the eyes. But he said it. He'd told her. He was holding his breath and going pink in the face. Thankfully not that kind of pink.

He watched as her face turned the same shade of pink as him, she reassured him with a squeeze of his chunky fingers and gave him the exact answer he needed. “Love you too, Steven.”

Maybe he could keep celebrating his birthday after all?

#steven universe #suf #steven universe post movie #connverse #connie maheswaran #connie x steven #fanfic #first kiss #fluff

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spoon-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Ends of the Earth | Chapter 17

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse, and soon they travel across the galaxy looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 17 - We Need to Talk About Kyen

The Razor Crest touched down on the planet's dusty surface, the ship groaning as it settled on the ground. Din looked out at the deserted landing pads and the sandblasted settlement with a frown. He would have preferred to land somewhere uninhabited and wait for Sinead to finish going through the records, but the ship had been running on fumes, and he didn't want to risk getting stranded in the middle of nowhere.

He looked down at his gloved hand, moving his fingers experimentally. Sometimes an ache would run down his arm, the only evidence that a nexu had tried to rip his arm off.

The sight that met him when he stood and turned nearly made his heart leap out of his chest: the child had found a fusing pen, probably taken it from the toolbox that stood in the corner of the cockpit. A treson cluster had burst behind a panel close to the door, and Din had had to hastily pull the half-melted components out and weld the rest back together as best he could.

"No, you don't." Din pulled the pen from the kid's hands, stifling a small smile when the kid sighed as loudly as his little body was capable of, his face wrinkled into a frown. He left the pen on top of the console and lifted the kid into his arms. "Come on," he mumbled to the child, who tried reaching for the pen.

Sinead sat on her bunk in the hull, scrolling through the datapad with a vacant look in her eyes. She glanced up when he climbed down the ladder.

"We landed?"

"On Mon Scon. Ship's almost out of fuel."

"Okay," she said and returned to her work.

Din stood silently, unsure what to do, unsure what he wanted to do. She hadn't said a word since she started going through the record. Instead, she seemed to grow smaller and smaller, the light from the datapad making her look washed out and ill. His arm prickled, and he almost managed to convince himself that it was residual bacta.

Once outside, it became clear why the landing pad was empty; cold gusts of wind tore across the ground. The sun directly overhead gave no warmth, only pale light that seemed to suck the colors out of everything, and every step threw up a cloud of dust that blew away in the wind.

There was a fuel pump on every landing pad, and Din flipped a switch to start the process. It made a coughing sound and briefly let out a smell of burning plastic before the wind whipped it away. He closed his eyes and counted to 10.

"Guess we have to go find someone."

The child cooed in response.

It took some time before Din got someone willing to help. The locals huddled in their houses or under warped awnings made to catch the worst of the sand. At last, an old and wizened human told Din to grab a toolbox and follow him, and once they got to the fuel pump, it took him a few minutes to clean out the buildup of sand.

The man walked back to the city, bent low to shield himself from the wind which had begun to come in harder and harder. Din leaned against the fuel pump and waited.

The ramp came down, and Sinead appeared in the opening. "You okay out here?"

"The pump didn't work. Should be done soon."

She nodded and disappeared back into the ship, leaving the ramp down, allowing sand to blow through the opening.

Din heaved a sign and was about to close the ship back up when a shadow through the haze caught his eyes; four shadows to be more precise who were moving closer to the ship.

A blaster bolt fizzed over his shoulder and hit the ship dangerously close to the fuel port, where it ricocheted off the metal with a ping. He dropped to the ground and drew his blaster, trying to keep his body between the kid and the attackers.

"Oh Mando!" a familiar voice called out.

Yurru. Shit.

"You're very popular these days!" The human bounty hunter came into view, most of her face hidden behind a mask. He could see his cold eyes glint behind the visor. The three others were strangers. Hired help, maybe. "It was quite the mess you made back on Nevarro. Didn't believe my ears when I heard what you did. You're the last person I expected to break the code."

Standing up, Din started moving away from the ship one careful step a time, keeping his eyes trained on Yurru. She was the only one smart enough to wear a helmet; the other three wore goggles to protect their eyes, but it was clear they were having trouble with sand blasting against their unprotected skin.

Yurru inspected her blaster. "Just this morning, I said to Vorkit, I said 'wouldn't it be nice if the target came to us for a change.' And just like that, you fall into our lap." Her eyes narrowed. "Got nothing to say?"

He was only half-listening while searching the surroundings for any sort of cover that wasn't a highly explosive fuel pump. The kid felt heavy in his arms.

Yurru shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyway. Vorkit!"

"Yeah?" one of her companions said, scratching at his uncovered ear. The lens on his goggles was cracked.

"Check the ship. See if the target's in there."

Din didn't move as Vorkit went to the ramp and squinted into the dark ship. "Hey! Anyone in there?"

Yurru snarled. "Get in there and look."

Vorkit grumbled but still walked up the ramp, holding his blaster rifle at the ready.

"Now," Yurru said with a sigh. "I still haven't decided what to do with you. Dragging you back to Nevarro by the short and curlies will definitely put me among the greats, but there's something very satisfying in letting the traitor end his days in a shallow grave on some insignificant planet."

Din shifted his stance, so he was ready to move out of the way. If it came to it, he would be able to take a couple of blaster bolts, but the kid would not.

A thunderous explosion tore through the air, and the bounty hunters hit the ground. Din turned and saw her.

Sinead stalked down the ramp, her face set in an angry snarl, lit by red light emanating from a whip - the whip - she held in her hand. She swung it in an arc that alighted the air with kyber fire. The beskar didn't behave like metal; it flew through the air with precision and grace, irregular bursts of energy pulsing down the length of chain. The laser melted the sand to glass wherever it touched.

The whip cracked down on one of the bounty hunters who flew back, his chest caving in on itself. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Sinead whirled around and brought the whip down on the last bounty hunter. He crumbled in a wet, smoldering mess. An acrid smell of burning flesh filled the air.

Yurru aimed her blaster at Sinead, but before she had a chance to shoot, Din took her down with a shot to the chest.

Sinead turned in a circle, surveying the carnage around her. The whip burned a black line where it touched the ground.

"Is the kid okay?" She powered down the weapon, the red laser disappearing back into the hilt, leaving behind the beskar core.

"Yeah, I think-" Din looked under the cloak at the child, who started up at him with his big, dark eyes- "I think so."

She poked the bloody mess with the tip of her boot. "Who were they?"

"Bounty hunters." He went to Yurru's body and rifled through her pockets, coming up with a small pouch filled with credits and a tracking fob emitting a steady beep, which he crushed under the heel of his boot. "Let's go."

Sinead scanned the horizon. The wind came in even harder, and the settlement was almost totally obscured by a wall of sand. "Let's."

Sand had piled up on the ship's floor by the time they got back, and Sinead started to sweep it outside while Din placed the kid on the bunk. He turned to face her.

"I thought you said the nau'orar was somewhere safe," he said in a forced calm voice.

"Yes. The safest place is with me."

He scoffed, which finally made her turn, the whip swinging gently with her movement. "What was I supposed to do? Bury it on a random planet? Hide it somewhere and hope no one finds it?"

He gritted his teeth. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Now it was her turn to scoff. "I didn't know you. If you knew, what would've stopped you from taking the damn thing and leaving me for dead?"

She, very annoyingly, had a point. If the roles were reversed, he wouldn't have told her either. Hell, it wasn't until she literally risked her life for the child that he told her the truth about him.

"I could still do that."

"I have a feeling you won't." For a long moment she looked at him, head cocked to the side, and an unreadable look in her eyes. Wordlessly, she offered him the weapon.

It was lighter than he thought. The metal rings clinked as he turned it in his hands, the light catching on the beskar in an almost hypnotic way. Crystals had been fused to the metal, probably what powered the whip. The hilt fit in his hand like it had been made for him, perfect Mandalorian craftsmanship. Another piece of their culture stolen away like everything else. It belonged in the covert.

He thrust it back to Sinead.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Sinead said. "I nearly killed myself the first time I turned it on." She bundled it into a rag and stowed it in the little crevice between the bunk and the wall.

"Where'd you learn how to use it?"

"Got a leather whip to practice with, you know, I figured it was better to lose an eye than my head if something went wrong. And, I don't know ... once you get the hang of it, it's not that hard."

Din tore his eyes away from the whip's hiding spot. "I'm gonna find somewhere else to stay."

"Preferably without any bounty hunters."

"Yeah."

... ... ... ... ...

She almost missed his name.

The words blurred together in a long string of blue light. She had stopped thinking about them as names, as living, breathing sentients who had fought or toiled in the refineries on Loovria. It hurt too much.

It took a second for her brain to comprehend what it was looking at, and then it felt like all oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

K. Beck.

Human.

She nearly fell off the ladder in her haste to get to the cockpit, where Mando sat quietly with the kid on his lap. He startled when she stumbled into the room.

"I found him!" She tapped on the datapad in rapid motion, making the colors warp.

Mando took the datapad and looked, while Sinead threw herself into her seat just to jump up and start pacing.

"Says he was sold to a royal house on Seavo."

"So let's go."

"He was a fighter in the arena.”

A small seed of horrible doubt took root in the pit of her stomach. The image of Kyen in the arena, bloody blade at his side, refused to form in her mind. Combat was the antithesis of him. He was a farmer, not a fighter. "He did what he had to do. We've all done things we regret in the name of survival. You gonna plug in the course?"

Mando gave her back the datapad and started the navicomputer. She could feel him glancing at her as the ship changed course.

"What?"

He fiddled with a row of switches for some time before sitting back into his chair, clearing his throat. "You know, there's ... there's no guarantee that he's still alive."

"I've had years to think about this. The possibility has struck me. I still have to know."

"Fine."

She desperately tried to hold on to the elated feeling from before, not wanting to let Mando drag her down. He was right, of course. Her search could very well end at the foot of a grave. At least she would know what happened to him.

Letting out a deep breath, she leaned back in her chair and waited.

... ... ... ... ...

Seavo, it turned out, was a small and unimportant planet in a small, unimportant system located on the edge of wild space, where travelers were few and far between. It had no tactical significance and had therefore been largely ignored by most of the galaxy-wide conflicts. The surface consisted mostly of icy seas and slivers of rocky land. Mando steered the ship towards the biggest settlement which clung to the side of a cliff like a mollusk, nestled inside a large bay. As they came closer, Sinead could see watercrafts bob in the water.

The Crest landed on the small platform between rusty light freighters that looked like they hadn't been used for a long time. The people of Seavo had little use for space travel.

The smell of saltwater overwhelmed her senses when the ramp came down, and a chill immediately snuck into her bones. Growing up in space and subsequently ending up on a desert planet meant that she hadn't had much exposure to the sea, which was fine by her.

On the opposite side of the bay, overlooking the settlement, stood a dilapidated palace like a great shadow against the overcast sky. Even from a distance, it was clear that it had seen better days.

Sinead tamped down on the growing excitement which had bubbled up as soon as the palace came into view. Kyen might be in there. He wasn't, because when had she ever been that lucky, but until they got an explicit confirmation, she could pretend there was only a crumbling wall between them.

“You ready?” Mando looked at her.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”

“Let’s go find out.”

The path to the palace led down through the settlement, steep and uneven. None of the houses were the same, but somehow, they all followed the same chaotic pattern. Some had grown together or had entirely new floors added on, made from whatever they’d managed to scavenge. Sinead recognized the cockpit of a hammerhead corvette stuck to the side of a building like an outhouse.

"They're very crafty," Sinead said.

“They have to be. There aren’t enough resources to go around.”

"I guess when all you have is endless seas and useless rock, you gotta make do."

Most of the people they passed were human, all of them casting curious or low-key hostile looks at Sinead and Mando.

It became clear that no one had lived in the palace for a long time. Even standing at the bottom of the bay, she could see that parts of the roof had caved in and the windows were black voids in the lichen-covered walls.

A human woman worked by a larger house, prying rusty metal plates off the outer wall and discarding them on the ground. She stopped to push a lock of wiry hair out of her face, and Sinead chose that time to clear her throat. The woman turned with a scowl, and Sinead gave her a winning smile. "Excuse me, I'm looking for someone to tell me about the palace up there."

“Who’s asking?”

“Names Jesha.”

“Why’re you asking?”

She shrugged. “Just wondering why such a beautiful building has been allowed to fall into disrepair.”

The woman gave the palace a dark look. “Psh. What use do we have for beautiful buildings, hm? If you haven’t noticed this ain’t Coruscant. Fancy houses don’t keep your family fed. Good riddance.”

Sinead crossed her arms to ward off the icy wind. “What happened?”

“Lord of the house finally got what was coming to him is all I know. All I care to know.” She looked Sinead up and down, her scowl slipping just a fraction. “Keep on the main road until you hit the docks, you’ll find an old fisherman by the name of Baston, peddling his excuse for redfish. He might be able to tell you more. His youngest is mixed up in all of this. Tell him that Dista sent you.”

Sinead shot her a genuine smile. “Appreciate it."

The woman grimaced. “Yeah, yeah, just let me get back to work." She brandished her crowbar in a vaguely threatening manner and waited until they started down the street.

The sharp smell of fish and brine permeated the air long before the docks came into view. The last buildings fell away, and Sinead got an uninterrupted view of the sea that glittered in the sun, throwing up clouds of freezing mist whenever a great wave broke against the harbor wall. The air was filled with bird squawks and shouts from fishermen. A single fishing trawler was docked and in the process of being unloaded. Straining her eyes, Sinead could see more vessels out on the ocean as small black dots. It all reminded her of the great spaceports she’d spend most of her childhood in, trying not to get in the way of burly workers who didn’t have time to entertain a curious girl.

In one end of the docks, out of the way of most of the traffic, a collection of stalls made from bleached driftwood sold fish lying on beds of ice or hung on racks, dried and salted. The birds were more concentrated here, watching the fish with empty, evil eyes.

They quickly found Baston manning one of the stalls. He was a short man with a thick grey beard, selling fish that were indeed rather sad looking. He grinned when they neared, not at all discouraged by Mando's intimidating presence.

“Hello there! S’not often we get strangers here. What can I get you?”

Sinead was about to answer when the kid made a noise and kicking his little feet, eyes fixated on the row of dried fish behind Baston.

"I guess we'll take a fish for the kid." Sinead gave him a couple of credits, and he plucked a dried fish off the rack and handed it to the child.

“What brings you all the way out here? New faces are a rare treat this close to Wild Space.” Baston’s eyes strayed briefly to the Mandalorian. He was remarkably calm in the face of Mando.

“Dista sent us. She said to ask you what happened up in that big house.” Sinead gestured to the dark palace.

A shadow came over Baston’s face. “Why do you want to know?”

“I …” she bit her lower lip. “I’m looking for someone. Might have been through the palace some time ago.”

Baston nodded to himself. "Happened some cycles ago. Don't know how long in your time, don't have much use of that out here." He was silent for a moment, his lips moving while he gathered his thoughts. "One of the king's men went an' killed him. The king was a bastard, but what followed wasn't much better to tell you the truth."

“He took over?” Sinead asked.

“For a little while. Think he got bored. We’re fishermen, we haven’t much need for governing around here, not really.” Baston seemed like a totally different man once the smile fell from his face. “Never thought I’d be missing the old king, but this man was something else. Don’t think I ever saw such a nasty man in all my life. What a terror. Say, who were you looking for again?”

She took a deep breath. “He might have been a slave in the palace. From Loovria.”

Baston nodded slowly. “Old king had a few of those. Like I said, he was a bastard. What’s the name? I might have known him?”

Sinead’s stomach knotted in fear and nauseating hope.

“Kyen Beck.”

Baston’s face twisted in fury. “You think this is funny?”

“What are you talking about?”

He came out from behind his stall, jabbing a finger at Sinead, who took a step back. Mando shifted the kid to his other arm, ready to draw his blaster.

“How dare you! Coming here, asking me questions like this!! I don’t want that tyrant back, not again.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

He finally seemed to catch on. “You … you really don’t know?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Obviously not.”

“Who do you think killed the king? Beck terrorized us for more than a cycle before pissing off to who knows where!”

At first the words didn’t register. Kyen terrorizing anyone? That couldn’t be true.

“You’re wrong.” Her voice was hollow.

Baston spat on the ground, all signs of the jolly old man gone. “Not something I’m liable to forget.”

“You know where he is now?” Mando said, not relaxing his stance.

“Not here. He stole a ship and took a crew. My guess is he’s out tyrannizing the Outer Rim, the good-for-nothing pirate. Calls himself Red Vekkass last I heard.”

Kyen? A pirate?

“No!” The word exploded out of her mouth, making passerby’s stop and stare. “Kyen would never do that!”

"Apparently, you don't know him as well as you think you do. My idiot son went with him, thinks a life of crime is better than staying here in safety."

“You’re wrong!” Her face was flushed and the sudden anger made her dizzy.

“Sinead-“ Mando began, grabbing her elbow to pull her back.

She wrenched her arm away from him. "Don't touch me!"

The kid made a worried sound, his little face contorted in a frown.

Mando clenched his fist and let it fall to his side. "Move. Now." His voice was dangerously low.

“But-“

“Now.”

Once they were off the dock, Sinead exploded. "Kyen would never do something like that! Not in a million years."

Mando stopped abruptly and put the child down on a barrel and turned to face her with his arms stiffly by his side. "It's been years. You said yourself, we all do things in the name of survival."

Sinead looked like she'd been slapped. She felt like she'd been slapped. "Not like this." Her eyes prickled, and she stared up at the sky. "You don't understand ..."

He remained silent.

"I ..." She took a shuddering breath, forcing the tears not to spill. "I wasn't born a slave. Already told you that ... my parents ran goods across the galaxy. We were ... pirates boarded the ship. They killed everyone ... except for me." She swallowed thickly, feeling at once hollow and drowning in memories she usually kept buried deep in her mind. "That's how I ended up on Srilurr." And I never told anyone except Kyen - and you.

If Mando had been still before, he was now a statue, glinting coldly in the morning air.

"Kyen wouldn’t do that. Not to me."

Mando cleared his throat, flexing his fingers. "I ... I didn't know."

"Nobody did." She breathed deeply, trying to keep herself from falling to pieces; if she were falling anywhere, it wouldn't be in front of Mando and the kid, who was watching silently from the sideline.

"Do you want to go after him?"

And just like that, grief was replaced with red-hot anger that pooled in her stomach and made her eyes twitch. How dare he ask her that? Like she would just give up after all that time and effort!

Small hands touched her calf, and she looked down into big black eyes. Somehow the child had gotten down from his perch and was gripping her around the leg, giving her the most worried look she'd ever seen on such a small face. The anger didn't ebb out, but slowly it receded enough for her to rein it in.

Picking him up, he settled against her chest, where he left a greasy handprint on her jacket. "Let's just get out of here." Her voice shook with barely concealed anger.

Mando nodded and stepped to the side, letting her lead the way back to the ship in silence.

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#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x oc #mando x oc #din x oc #din djarin x oc #fanfiction #ends of the earth #oc: sinead

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