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strawberrystepmom · 2 months ago

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bnha ending fix it fic. healing!tomura who goes by tenko x f!reader. reader has a defined quirk (magnetism) and is referred to using the nickname sparkles. | word count: 2.3k reading time: 8 minutes

When a knock echoes through your small apartment, you’re up and running to the door before you are even oriented enough to figure out what’s going on.

You fell asleep at your desk. Again. Probably slumped over halfway through the last audit you vaguely remember working on which was for the Ingenium agency. It’s easy to lose track of time when you spend it stapled to your tablet and work bench, fretting over how to make the country you now call home safer.

A second knock rings and you groan softly, stepping toward the door as fast as you can in a half awake and partially dressed state. Your tank top straps sag off of your shoulders, one of your socks has disappeared but there’s no time to search for it.

The door is in view. You twist the lock to unlatch it, pulling the door open. Blinking to adjust your eyes, they widen before you can think.

“Tenko?”

The dark haired man stands in front of you, clad in a hooded sweatshirt and dark colored sweatpants indicating he likely just got off patrol alongside Deku. There’s still around 6 months until he’s released from the fellow hero’s watchful eyes to act on his own though the prior 6 passed far more quickly than he expected. It turns out this hero stuff isn’t so bad.

He won’t meet your eyes, hands shoved into his pockets, obviously chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Are you okay?” You ask in a rush, opening the door wider to invite him in.

His eyes further avert their gaze toward something that must be very interesting on the corner of your building. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, awkwardly.

“I, uh…is this a bad time?”

Shaking your head, you wave your hand over the space created so that he can enter the practical hovel you call home. He doesn’t look at you while he slips inside, careful not to touch you in any way as he passes, practically melding with the wall.

“I hate to ask again since clearly you aren’t,” you begin once his back has turned and he’s slowly started making his way toward your workbench stationed in the living room. “But are you okay? Did something happen?”

There’s no response for a beat. The man clears his throat, looking over his shoulder before quickly averting his face forward again.

“You’re…I thought maybe I interrupted something since you’re barely dressed.”

You look down to realize you’re wearing nothing on your lower half but your scandalously small underwear. There’s no sense in making a big deal out of it so you shrug although he can’t see it, padding back into the main living area to join him.

“I mean, I was asleep but you didn’t interrupt that because I would have been up in a little bit anyway.”

Stopping, you take a moment to admire the outline of him illuminated by your desk lamp, the strenuous routine required by a hero clearly doing him some good as far as you can tell. His hair is healthy, his frame is broad, and he turns his face to look over his shoulder at you once again.

“I’m alright though.”

Smiling at his confirmation that everything is as it should be, you pick your pace back up and slide into your stool while he leans against the side of your bench. You engage your quirk, Magnetism, as a reflex and a stray bolt sticks to your arm.

The faintest hint of a smile comes across his face, now turned downward in your direction. You disengage your quirk with a sigh, the sound of metal dropping back down to metal accompanying it. The screen on your tablet lights up when you look down at it, the time across it in large white numbers.

2:15 AM.

“I can see why you were worried you’d interrupted something, these are booty call hours after all.”

You joke, twisting back and forth on the stool and looking up at him through your lashes.

“So are you here for business or pleasure, Entropy?”

He’s too used to that look, full of appraisal and perhaps a bit of interest, but he never wants to read too much into it. Especially not right now while you’re scantily clad, an eyeful of what lies under your shirt no more than a simple shift in glance away, and indiscriminately running your mouth.

Tenko looks away, cheeks warming. Hands that were buried deep in his pockets are now tucked into the crook of the opposite arm where they’re folded over his chest.

He has visited your apartment multiple times since the first night he formally met you at Izuku’s. The pair of heroes stop by when they’re in the neighborhood or come by to chat if they’re off patrol, usually being joined by Deku’s girlfriend if she can be pulled away from her clinical studies for long enough to come and giggle for a couple hours.

“I had some issues with my gear tonight and wanted to have you look at it.”

It’s the worst excuse possible but it’s the best one he could come up with on the fly.

“Oh. You should’ve just said so,” you continue to mutter to yourself while unlocking your tablet.

Truthfully, he has no idea why he’s here. Some pull in his chest told him to go the opposite direction when walking home to clear his head so he followed it, landing right at your doorstep and standing outside of the door, too anxious to knock, for longer than he’d ever admit.

Scrolling through the diagnostics app, you gnaw at your bottom lip and jiggle your sockless foot. You squint at the screen because he knows you need glasses and don’t have them on, probably due to the abruptness of his visit. There are all these little things about you that become impossible to ignore when it’s just the two of you.

“Ah! There you are. Let’s see.” You excitedly sing, while wiggling your fingers. He watches with a smile, so soft he may even just be imagining the feeling of it in his facial muscles.

Everything about you makes him feel…inexplicable.

The unfortunate truth that he doesn’t know how to face is that your place has become one he associates with safety and warmth, something the grown man four years your senior fears he’ll always seek out no matter how distant Tomura becomes from who he is now.

Tonight wasn’t a hard night but he didn’t want to be alone, pacing until adrenaline finally slowed down and let him sleep.

How unlike him.

You hum and continue to orate to yourself, squinting at charts he couldn’t even pretend to get. How you manage to do all of this, accurately, safely, and without breaking a sweat, is truly amazing.

“It says everything is fine. Can you tell me what issues you were having?”

Sitting up, you fold your arms over your chest and swing back and forth on the stool. He watches you turn small half circles, realizing he may have been caught. Smiling up at him, you raise a brow.

“My wrist cuffs felt tighter than usual I guess but that might not be an issue you can fix,” he mumbles, trying to explain himself in any way that he can to cover his lie.

Rather than torture him by forcing him to dig this little hole he’s found himself in deeper, you change the subject.

“Have you eaten tonight?” You ask, brow quirked.

He shakes his head. It was a busy shift and he doesn’t have a lovely girlfriend at home to make bentos with him like Deku does and he managed all evening on the half assed late lunch he packed for himself that was mostly made up of the type of shit he used to eat when he was still Tomura. It’s hard to learn to take care of yourself.

“Alright. Let me see what I can find to make.”

You stand, walking into the kitchen. Glancing over your shoulder, it’s hard not to get caught up in how intimate this feels. Your face warms and so does your belly, floored by how handsome Tenko really is in that low light that envelops his profile.

There’s no way your work would’ve failed him tonight. It means too much that it works well

“Next time, come up with a better excuse. Or just text me and tell me you wanna come over.”

You confirm that he has been caught, literally and figuratively. He debates showing himself the exit but instead follows you into the kitchen. There’s no point in backing away now. His heavy footsteps echo after yours while you dig through the fridge and continue to hum, bopping your head along to a completely made up song.

“Can I ask you something?”

Glancing over your shoulder while pulling out a carton of tofu, you nod at his question. He keeps his eyes as averted as he can, floored by how exposed you are now that you’re not in a dimly lit room, and clears his throat.

“Why do they call you Sparkles? Is it a hero name or something?”

Snorting, you shake your head and shut the fridge. Making your way to the counter that he leans against, you look up at him and slowly start to get to work while contemplating how to best answer the question.

“I’m surprised the Midoriya’s haven’t told you that story,” you joke about Izuku and his girlfriend as one, despite the formality of marriage not yet being completed.

“I’ve never really asked them.”

Tenko has asked Izuku many other questions about you, namely about the nature of your friendship with Lemillion and how close you two really are.

“They just like each other’s attention,” Deku comforted his unlikely friend with a pat on the back the last time the entire group of you went out and Tenko watched the blonde man hug you a little too tightly.

But beyond that, he has managed to feel you out himself. Perhaps against his better judgment and here he is again, desperate to learn a little more.

“Well when I was a third year my final project to graduate from the support course was a glitter bomb.”

You finally start, finishing chopping one item and moving onto the next.

Graduation came not long after the Meta War ended. The project was something you’d worked tirelessly on for months before that, a sophisticated piece of equipment with a state of the art fireless ignition. Safety has always been the reason you wanted to invent and this was a golden opportunity to invent something that had no possible chance of hurting its user. No backfiring, no risk.

“Honestly, nobody really found the invention that funny except for me given, you know…” you wave your knifeless hand around and raise your eyebrows hoping he gets the message without being insulted.

Tenko tilts his head to the side, unfolding his arms and bracing them on the edge of the countertop. He picks up what you mean and doesn’t wish to pull the thread, eyes darting from his feet to your hand and back.

“But long story short, Hatsume told me once that they are still cleaning glitter out of the 3A classroom carpets and now everyone calls me Sparkles. I ended up selling the schematics to the support item manufacturer that one of my other classmates works for so it worked out.”

The lack of response worries you although it’s a bit silly to care in the first place. You don’t want his presence to be impermanent but you know that once his time trailing Deku around like a puppy is through, it’s likely he’ll never stop by again. It’s something you’ve kind of resigned yourself to over the last several months after finding yourself a little too invested in what you can do to bring a smile to that handsome face that looks a little more lively every day.

That’s a concern for a few months from now. You’ve always prided yourself on the ability to live in the moment so here you are, choosing to ignore an uncertain future to embrace what’s right next to you.

With an exaggerated sigh, you gather up a pile of green onions with the back of your hand and look up at him with a wry half smile. “Why did you think they called me Sparkles?”

Shrugging, he smiles down at you.

“Guess I always thought it was because of your personality.”

Biting back a smile, your cheeks warm while you drop the tofu and a bunch of sauces into a now hot pan.

“You really think I sparkle?”

Chuckling, he lifts himself away from the counter and walks to your other side to gently shake the handle of the frying pan.

“I think there’s no way you don’t already know that about yourself.”

No sense in arguing with a man who is right. Giggling, you reach for the frying pan handle and gently shove him with your shoulder.

“Hey, you’re my guest. Let me handle it.”

Side stepping, he finds himself looking downward at the slope of your back and once again at your very visible derrière. That same ache that led him to your front door returns, his mouth drying out as he realizes it.

Why does he feel comfortable enough to stand here? Is progress, improvement even, supposed to feel this terrifying?

“Go sit down Ten,” you nod toward the living area with a smile. “I can handle it.”

Ten.

It has been a long time since someone he considered a friend called him that. He doesn’t recall anyone he’d ever considered more than saying it.

“And what if I stay right here?” He asks, smiling when you look over your shoulder at him again.

Is he flirting with you?

“Then I won’t stop you.”

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #kendall writes #entropy au

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feraliminal · 11 months ago

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Actual episode 70 discussion before I vanish back into the aether to do coursework:

Obligatory meta bit: I’m in the process of reading Interaction Ritual Chains for a draft thesis chapter (which I need to be writing now) and just happened to be halfway through reading the section on remote/virtual rituals when the episode dropped. The book includes stuff like sports events and concerts as rituals, defined as community-building events where people share an experience and get meaningful symbols and stories out of it. But it has a whole section on why this needs to be in-person. I’ve never really done live premieres before because my fandoms tended to be old, but I’ve now got participation observation data to disprove that - it’s definitely a shared experience for the fan community, and we have plenty of stories. Fandom is folk culture!

The appearance of cam-ghosts and Plunger’s interaction with the secret agent was very cool as I love the “sufficiently advanced tech is indistinguishable from the supernatural” trope. The camghosts could have been hallucinations, but there was one peeking around a corner much earlier in the episode. I suspect that there’s some kind of remote connection/Alliance network going on (they’re able to share and broadcast footage, after all, even if they need to use tablets for long range comms), so these could be virtual encounters through the secret agent hacking or otherwise accessing Plunger’s brain - like he’s able to get into the skibidi computer to taunt the scientist. But why (other than exposition and dramatic effect)? Is he trolling because their death is part of his scheme (likely imho), or is he just an incorrigible dick who can’t say “good job” without being sinister?

Transmission error/recording error: is the secret agent signal jamming? And what was that stealth mode? Is it related to the secret agent and the camghosts? Probably.

Unless our two ex-main characters are fixed or downloaded (which I doubt but I did notice that the the tagline was “someone”, which is usually singular), ST is doing Anyone Can Die. If this was being approached as a lolrandom meme thing, that wouldn’t be surprising, and that has been the tone of much of the series so far. However, it’s ascended to the point that there’s an actual Skibidi Toilet store. The longevity of comparable meme horror/sci-fi series has seemed to rely on people getting attached to iconic characters, so I wonder if there’s a plan for avoiding Too Bleak, Stopped Caring? My guess is having the elites and titans consistent throughout the plot, but DFB may also be an incorrigible dick and kill everyone. I am a sucker for dramatic deaths though, so I can probably put up with it (just about, did that speaker squeak as they were dying? Oh no ;_;).

On the subject of trolls, one way of interpreting Titan Speaker putting out the fire before completely flattening the scientist was that they wanted to kill them themself, another interpretation was that they were fucking with the scientist by pretending they’d show mercy. Either way, A+++ revenge!

Polycephaly is also super interesting as they don’t really seem to be the TV equivalent of the others factions’ big combat units. There’s only one of them, they can fuck around with teleportation-stuff (nanites? weird science particles?) and swap out their extra bits. They might have a role that’s unique to the TV faction, I already wondered if it’s something like managing TV communications or information flows, and now I think that could include something to do with teleportation too. Maybe running the teleportation-navigation software? In the Dune series, there’s heavily mutated Guild Navigators who guide faster-than-light spaceships and to make sure no one crashes into a planet, and Warhammer 40k has a similar Navigator role to guide space traffic through the Warp using psychic beacons.

#skibidi toilet #skibidi speculation #feraliminal speculation

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disappearinginq · 10 months ago

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5, 7, 13, and 20 for fanfic asks?

5. Fic most proud of writing This is a toss up - because I am one of those people who likes their own stuff a lot. :-D But, one of the Big Three: Damnatio Memoriae from the Lucifer fandom, Running Up That Hill for Agenst of SHIELD, and Wrong Side of Heaven for Magnum 2018. Mostly for different reasons, but they all have the same vein of "I got mad at canon and I fixed it".

Lucifer was a roller coaster for me - I loved season 1, season 2 was okay, 3 made me want to throw something at the screen 90% of the time, season 4 WAS EPIC, and I gave up halfway through season 5 and never finished the series. Damnatio was written because I wanted much more involvement of the supernatural, not just a therapy/self discovery mixed in with crime of the week. Also, being raised adjacent to Catholicism, I was getting really irritated that they weren't even using the comic lore, and missing the basic fundamentals of the sources they were pulling from. This story had a lot of reader feedback, to the point of it being almost choose your own adventure. As it went on, I would ask readers to pick from two options that I had rolling around in my head, and it actually worked really well to keep the ball moving with my writing.

Running Up That Hill was again another one where I just got mad at canon, but because I don't like the narrative of "these people are exempt from moral standards while this person is Wrong No Matter What", and I probably would've let it slide except the issue I had was that the one that Wrong No Matter What had all of his life changing trauma as a child and then had it reinforced his entire adult life. Everyone else was an adult when Bad Things happened, and I don't like the hypocrisy of saying "get over it" to someone who legitimately doesn't have the toolset to do that.

Wrong Side I love because this actually was my first foray into something that had no supernatural elements to it whatsoever, and based firmly in reality, and a reality I knew pretty well. I wasn't a huge fan of how the TV show just glossed over the fact that these guys were POW's for a year and a half of a terrorist organization that tortures and kills people with such violence that they became a whole new subsect of terrorism. Like, no, these guys aren't just going to walk away without an issue. And the fact that they were sold out by someone who said to have loved them? AND THEY HAVE NO FALL OUT FROM THIS?! Get fucked, shitty narrative. Suicide in the veteran community is at a high not seen since post-WWII, and these fuckers have the audacity to suggest that you're just being a little bitch if you can't acclimate to civilian life.

7. Favorite ship to write Well, that's pretty easy - none. Romance is rarely done well, and I have never liked anyone enough to relate to the narrative of "Well, I'm throwing all of my friendships out the window because now I have a RomAnTic InTereSt" and it irritates me to no end. if anything, my favorite ship is between Captain Kirk and the Enterprise.

13. Latest fic written/last WIP? A fix it fic for Yellowstone that showcases the brothers Kayce and Jamie, and because I am on a western kick, research for a Magnificent Seven fic that will likely never see the light of day, but I still love the show and the characters, where Ezra (the gambler from Georgia) is a spy for the Union during the Civil War.

20. Hardest Character to write/get the characterization right for? The female characters written by men. And I realize that sounds really weird, but because I swear to god men don't understand being a woman, they're just shit at writing them, and they say/do the dumbest things because guys would do that shit, or, worse, the guys writing the character are using them as hyperboles for women they think did them wrong. And then because the writers don't understand them, I can't understand them, and they wind up being the people that in real life, I'd want to hit with my car. Beth Dutton is a great example of this - some of the things she says that I know are supposed to come off as "strong, powerful woman" make me physically recoil and hide my face with a pillow while watching because What the fuck nobody would ever say that and it's actually cringeworthy. Until women started getting involved in the writing process for Magnum and Lenkov was fired, I absolutely wanted to stab Higgins in 90% of her scenes. Post Lenkov - I actually found her really sweet sometimes, and actually relatable.

That being said, the other ones that I'm not good at because it is so far outside my sphere of comprehension are characters like Angie or Dani off of Will Trent and Prodigal Son. I love those characters, they are complex and unique and I love them, but I don't have relatable experience to them at all, and they are some of the hardest people I have tried to write (which is why I don't have fic in those fandoms even though I love them).

#asks answered #games we play #whew #had to think about a couple of these for a hot minute

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

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Conference Room

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | Bucky gets a surprise when he realises that things that were looked down upon, and people were often disgusted by in his day and age, are wanted in this one.

Warnings | includes smut, blowjob, cum facial, Bucky being an insecure bb, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Everyone filed out of the meeting room, one by one disappearing into the maze of the compound. Bucky watched you with tender eyes, slowly following behind, as you headed for the door.

But instead of passing though the threshold, so that you could make your way on route to the kitchen, in order for you prepare yourself a well deserved drink after sitting through the small conference, you closed the door, and pushed down the latch.

The action itself made Bucky stop in his footsteps, and fix you with a confused expression. He wasn’t sure why you had locked the two of you in here. Only moments ago you had been on a group call with Fury, and now that he had signed off, all of you had been free to leave.

But that freedom that all the else had fled feebly towards, served a much different price to that for which you specifically had in mind for him. “Sergeant Barnes, I think the two of us need to have a little talk; our ears only.”

Bucky gulped, remaining upon the spot that he was stood in. He racked his mind for reasons that you would want to do this here, and not in one of your bedrooms. It would only make things more difficult for when he left the scene, heartbroken by you cutting him off, and finally pushing him away.

It was inevitable that it would happen somewhen; but it was too early. Things were finally running smoothly, he felt content and happy, and as though he were making a good difference to the world, which is all he ever wanted. However, it appeared that all of that was about to come tumbling down at his feet, in the same very moment.

The two of you hadn’t been dating too long, just short of three months. And during that time, the pair of you had never once gotten obscenely intimate. So in your case, as he viewed it, you really had nothing to lose. But he couldn’t pin point as to why you were dressed in a sly smile, and creeping ever so steadily towards him as though you had a surprise.

“Doll.” He spoke softly, thinking that it would be the last time he had the opportunity to describe you with that pet name. From the way that he addressed you, your expression quickly became more innocent and happy.

As you got closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his middle, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss upon his material covered chest. “Baby.” You greeted him, moving to his lips next, and pressing a fluid peck upon them.

“What are you doing?” He unsurely asked, his voice cracking in the meanwhile, and his face scrunching up into a confused frown. Your hands rubbed down his chest, and plucked the band of his trousers, over again in a repeated motion.

Sucking your lip into your mouth, you looked up into his sky blue eyes, reading them for any signs of him being affected by your actions. Rather than feeling aroused, it seemed to make him confused, which was not at all your intention.

“You seemed tense Buck.” Your hands raked their way back up to his shoulders, soothing any apparent tightness that were held within his muscles. “I thought maybe... I could help loosen you up.” Fluttering your eyelashes at him, Bucky lightly groaned, rubbing his lips together as he mulled over what the pair of you could possibly get up to in this room.

His hands went down to the button of your jeans, but lightly, you slapped his hands away, doing the same to him, and undoing them. As your fingers toyed with the zip that helped the denim be adjustable to his size, your other palmed him through the blue material. “This is about you James. I want to make you feel good.”

Again, he swallowed his own saliva, he paid the utmost attention to your every movement, completely compelled with how you tossed your hair to the side by simply moving your head. “You want me to suck your cock, I promise I’m good at it.” A giggle erupted from your mouth, and Bucky clasped your chin in the feather light grip of his vibranium hand.

He pulled your lips to his, warming them up before slipping his tongue inside. It had been a long time, though he hated to admit it, since he had done anything even slightly sexual, and a part of him was afraid that he wouldn’t last long.

But the other was excited, back in the forties , blowjobs weren’t often digressed. The idea had always appealed to hun, however no dame had ever wished to dirty their knees before him, and take his sufficient length down their throat. It pained him a little, knowing that like most people he had encountered through his life, that they would take from him, but never return it with an ounce of kindness.

He’d perceive it as a dream come true, the woman that owned his entire heart, independently wanting to pleasure him in such ways that were looked down upon in his day. “Are you sure?” He pulled away, desperate for some clarity on the matter.

“Yes, of course I am.” You smiled, drawing him in for another locked lip session. After a minute or two of tasting his tongue, you trailed your direction down, running down his chin, and then his neck, until you completely dropped to your knees, rutting your hand against his growing cock.

Right then, from that image alone, Bucky swore that he would die. That innocent expression that was entailed upon your face had him mentally cursing, and he couldn’t help but groan to himself in a relaxed manner as you pulled his jeans down to his ankles, leaving only his boxers as the final barrier.

Lightly, you pressed a kiss to where you guessed his tip to be through the cotton, gently running your tongue down the shaft, and lower down to where his balls were stationed. “Y/n, please stop teasing.”

“Tell me Bucky.” Your fingertips cascaded up and down his v line, warming him up to what was to come(pun intended). “Have you ever been sucked off before?” His heart rate picked up, as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“How did you- that punk!” He said in reference to Steve, realising that he must have let the detail slip to you. But he couldn’t be made really, if the captain hadn’t digressed his secret to you, then he may have waited longer to experience the enthralling and dirty, as it had been known to be, engagement.

Without any pressure, you pressed your teeth upon his cock, dragging his attention back towards you. “Now that is no way to talk about your dear friend, I’d say he did you a favour.” He was getting ready to grumble in his Bucky manner, but was hit with your gasp as you suddenly pulled his boxers down, his dick slapping upwards, having your entire focus.

Reaching forward with a hand, you wrapped it around the mid section of his shaft, your palm hardly fitting around his girth. “It’s so big.” You gaped at the sight, moving your hand up and down to gouge a reaction out of the super soldier above you. His head leant back, his eyes screwing shut as he realised just how sensitive he was. He felt like a virgin all over again.

An obscene and loud moan was pulled from his mouth as you ran your tongue up his shaft, humming at the taste of his intimate skin. With the encouragement of his lie noises, you directed his tip towards your lips, rubbing it upon the cushioned flesh, before sinking him halfway in your mouth.

“Holy fuck!” He exclaimed, reaching down and on instinct entangling his metal hand in your loose hair. As though you were doing nothing, you innocently looked up at him with wide doe eyes., although he could feel you hollowing your cheeks around him, as you began to bob your head.

Only then did he realise how experienced you must have been within this department, for he noticed how you didn’t struggle nor gag the slightest around him, and it appeared that you were enjoying it as much as he was.

One of your hands planted itself on the thickness of his thigh as your other found homage with fondling his balls. His chest rapidly moved as he felt every slither of your tongue around him, and as you pulled slightly back, you began dipping it in the line of his slit.

“Baby, slow down, or I’m going to cum.” With his words heard, you took him out of your mouth, wrapping your hand around his saliva soaked rod, and began pumping him rapidly. For a moment, he swore his head was going to explode as he saw you stick your tongue out, awaiting his load that was soon to be delicious.

“Cum Buck. Want you to cum for me.” It was impossible for him to hold back any longer, and thus, his seed flew over the expanse of your tongue, whilst the rest spurted over one side of your face. “Hmm.” You mumbled, swallowing that of it that you caught, and scooping a swipe into your mouth.

“I swear to god that I’m in love with you.” He spoke breathily as you stood up, both of your faces flushed from the activity. He pulled you in for a few pecks, to which you could do nothing more than stare into his oceanic pools.

“Well that’s encouraging.” You laughed, reaching down and tucking his softening cock back into his boxers and jeans, giving it a loving pat before pulling away. “I love you too Bucky Barnes; always.”

“The conference room though, really?” He asked with a bemused laugh, causing you to shrug. “You’ve got to walk out of here now.” He said, motioning to the mess on your face.

“That is something that I didn’t think of.” You responded, your eyes darting a around the room, until your eyes landed on the box of tissues that Tony had brought in at the start of the meeting. Thank Thor for his cold! “Grab me some paper towels from the corner would you babe?”

He sent you a pleased, and you’d say very satisfied smile, before stepping back, and heading in the direction of the desk, picking a few sheets out of the cube, and walking back to help you clean up. He felt like he at least owed you that much.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #Bucky smut x reader #imagines #imagine #xreader #marvel smut #mcu smut #marvel x reader smut #marvel x reader #sebastian stan smut

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chockfullofsecrets · 4 years ago

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"If I'm not careful I'm gonna end up writing content for a character who literally never appears in 141 episodes"

I mean, you are more than welcome to. In fact, we will gratefully encourage this.

you encourage chock? you encourage chock like the author? oh! oh! tk fic for anon! tk fic for anon for Two Thousand Words!

(also, heads up that i am moving next week! have been working on Importance of Timing when i can, but the first chapter probably won't be here for another two weeks at least.)

---

Verin Thelyss, Essek knows, is a seasoned battle commander and strategist.

He’s also in possession of the instinct to tackle people when he’s excited, so Essek is well aware that it’s only those decades of training and experience that have his little brother pausing for the briefest instant as Caleb and Jester teleport him into the hold of the Nein Heroez before he launches himself at Essek in a dead run.

Veth and Caduceus are at their respective homes, Kingsley watching over the ship, but he is far from alone - Yasha and Fjord each have a supportive hand on his shoulder, a silent assurance from the tense minutes waiting for their friends to return from Bazzoxan. They swear in unison and scramble for their weapons as Verin screeches to a halt just shy of shunting Essek straight though the hull and yanks him into a rib-crushing hug.

He burrows into the junction of Essek’s neck and shoulder, made possible only by virtue of the activated floating spell that puts the coiffed swoop of his hair a full inch above Verin’s. “Thank the fucking Light, you’re not actually dead.”

“What the fuck, he’s like a swearing puppy,” Beau hisses. There’s a soft thwap as Fjord gently smacks her across the back of the head.

Essek is feeling out the edges of friendly intimacy, still, stumbling through every brush of fingers and shared look of exasperation, but even he does not need Jester’s frantic gesturing to prompt him to lift his arms and awkwardly wrap them around Verin’s shoulders.

It’s like wrapping a single thread of silk around one of Yasha’s biceps. Clearly he is not built for comforting.

Verin stiffens with a single sharp twitch of his ear against Essek’s collarbone . Essek’s thoughts flail wildly between an expectation of tears or a dagger to his ribs, but his brother just laughs, loud and hearty, and snuggles even further into his personal space. “I see someone’s finally taught you how to hug back - you should have written and told me, this is better news than any number of pages on den politics.”

Essek bristles. “Careful, or I will stop,” he huffs, somewhat more waspishly than he intends to.

Luckily, Verin has proven immune to his moods. “Oh, please don’t,” he insists, voice still crackling with glee. He grins, warm and wide enough that Essek can feel it against the side of his neck. “It just makes doing this that much easier.”

“Doing what,” Essek says reflexively, even as the tiny portion of his brain that he allows to remember his childhood starts to blare an alarm. “Verin-”

It’s far too late to realize that Verin’s hands have somehow been maliciously positioned just along the backs of his ribs.

Jester, standing with Caleb behind Verin, perks up in clear interest as the corners of his mouth start to twitch up. On second thought, Essek thinks he’d have preferred the dagger.

“Verin,” he hisses again, fighting back the anticipatory shiver crawling up his back. “Don’t - don’t you dare-”

It’s about then that Verin’s evil, evil fingers find the edges of his mantle’s arm slits and squeeze him even closer as they stretch to wriggle under his arms.

He snatches his arms back, but it’s too late - a dismayed giggle sneaks from his throat, then another, and then he’s beating helplessly at Verin’s shoulders as he dissolves into high, squeaking laughter.

Every single nerve between his armpits and his ribs squirms in unison - a bubbly, slippery sensation even more potent for how long it’s been since he last felt it. “No,” he shrieks. “I - ahaha! eeheee! - no tickling, no tickling, Verin-”

Jester looks thrilled - she’s bouncing on her toes, babbling something to Caleb that’s inaudible over the rush of his own laughter. Light, the Nein are going to tear him apart for this-

“Yes, tickling,” Verin protests, laughing right along with him. “All the tickling! You let me think you were dead! For months! I thought I was never going to get to watch my poor brother giggle himself to pieces ever again!”

He’s not, because Essek is going to kill him. “That - nahaha, hff, ahaaa! - that was - ha - it’s been decades - stop, stop, there’s people!”

“Yeah, people,” Beau says, loud and smug and far too close behind him. “Hey - Verin, was it? - does hotboi here have a worst spot?”

Oh no. Oh no. Essek squeezes his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to focus and does the only thing he can while laughing like an idiot.

With a shaky flick of his wrist, his floating dispels. Verin yelps in surprise as gravity takes Essek straight out of his grip.

The instant his boots hit the deck, Essek twists the rest of the way out of his grip and bolts.

There’s nowhere to go, really - the Nein have a room full of Counterspells, and Verin can run faster than he can, and he’s already tumbling halfway back into laughter in giddy anticipation of being caught. Still, it’s a surprise when he stumbles into a brick wall of leather and biceps that resolves itself into Yasha as she hoists him back into the air.

“Oh, where do you think you’re going?” She sounds admirably innocent given the soft, teasing smile she gives him.

“Noooo,” Essek giggles. Heat gathers in his cheeks as he tries to make himself stop - it doesn’t make sense, he’s not even being tickled anymore, but even the potential for it flutters light and fizzy at the bottom of his lungs. “I - I’m not ticklish anymore, I’m not-”

The Nein and Verin cluster around the two of them, bubbling with various levels of amusement. “Really?” Beau drawls. “It’s cute that you think denying it has a single fucking chance of working.”

The sarcasm helps him center himself, if only a little - he buries his face in Yasha’s arm and sucks in a deep breath that doesn’t do nearly enough to get rid of his blush.

He straightens as best he can while being bear hugged by a barbarian. “I am denying nothing,” he says carefully. Jester is still bouncing next to Beau, fingertips already twitching where they’re curled sweetly on her cheeks around a mischievous beaming smile, and Essek has to look away before the nervous snickers still wobbling on the back of his tongue can worm their way free. “I am well aware that Verin is - incorrigible-”

He hisses the last word in his brother’s direction - again, harsher than he intends, but he is so unused to being soft around him - and fails to contain a shy smile as Verin sticks his tongue out in retaliation.

Jester’s tail waves its way into the edge of his peripheral vision. He jumps and looks over at Fjord instead. “-but I, ah, I would ask for more respect from the rest of you-”

“You really shouldn’t,” Fjord says, grinning boyishly back at him. “I mean, you know us.”

And then, to Fjord’s right - “Essek?”

He’s been avoiding looking at Caleb. It is foolish, perhaps, to think that after all of the incredibly stupid things he knows Essek has done he will decide to judge him for this, but he cannot help the way his shoulders stiffen as he twists a little further to meet the gaze of the last link in their semicircle. “Yes?”

Caleb looks - focused, in an offhanded way, like he’s intent on something happening just slightly out of their current reality. Stunned might be a better word for it. He blinks for a moment before focusing those keen blue eyes somewhere near Essek’s eyebrows. “Ah - did you know that when you laugh, your ears -” He puts his hands up to his own ears and flaps them a little.

Drow do not run particularly warm, but that only makes it easier for Essek to feel the heat absolutely flood back into his face. “I-” he stammers. Nearly a century of politics is nowhere near enough to help him keep a straight face. “I - ah - eeh!-”

Caleb is close enough to reach out and run a questing fingertip over Essek’s left ear - it flicks wildly, trying to dislodge the unexpected tickle, but a surprised squeak still slips out.

There’s a moment of silence before Verin starts to snicker. “Oh, I like your friends,” he says merrily, beaming. “Go on, Light knows he doesn’t let himself laugh enough otherwise.”

“Don’t,” Essek gets out hastily, but Caleb is already reaching out for another go and Yasha’s grip is firm enough that all he can do is squeak again. “Wait - hm, hnn!”

Beau sidles up to Yasha’s side and gives him a self satisfied leer as she reaches out across their little group to pluck the feather from Fjord’s tricorn. “You got him, babe?”

“I do,” Yasha confirms and lets out a little squeak of her own as Beau reaches around her, no doubt squeezing something entirely inappropriate with company present.

“Hot,” Beau smirks, and reaches to flutter the feather over Essek’s right ear. “Aw, does that tickle? Thought you said you weren’t ticklish, man.”

Essek maintains some facsimile of composure for all of two seconds before his face crumples “Nnn - hehehe - eheehe - oh!”

His lungs are surely going to burst, with the way they’re shivering out desperate giggles as he shakes his head frantically between Caleb’s fingers and the teasing feather. He can’t move his arms, so he kicks his legs instead. “Please,” he begs, nearly incomprehensible even to his own ears. “Ah - aha, heeheehee! - tickles-”

Verin leans down and scoops his ankles up with one ridiculously sculpted arm. “Essek, you’re going to put a hole in someone with those boots.”

He looks up, raising his eyebrows teasingly, and Essek’s stomach drops like he’s cast something on it. “Here, I’ll fix that.”

Essek’s eyes, narrowed with laughter, shoot wide open. He doesn’t remember Verin being this evil - but then again, his brother’s never been egged on by five other people determined to render reports of his death more realistic.

“Verin, Verin, no-” he tries, but he’s giggling so hard that he can’t even get the words out. He twists as far away from Caleb and Beau as he can, flailing frantically, but Verin’s grip holds firm.

He pouts dramatically. “What? Is it my fault that my tiny, ticklish wizard brother insists on wearing metal-tipped boots that endanger everyone?”

Essek opens his mouth to reply and promptly dissolves into another frantic peal of laughter as Beau gets bored of his ears and shoves her feather in Caleb’s direction before jabbing a finger between his trapped arm and his chest to get at his armpit. “Your - shihihit, shit, ahahaaa, not there! - your arcanist brother is going to kill you just as soon as I can- hahaha!”

Verin just laughs, unlacing one of his boots and starting to slide it off. “Is that your attempt to convince me not to tickle your feet?”

Jester, practically vibrating, emits a sound that perhaps only weasels can hear. “Oh, that’s so cute! Can I have one of them?”

“One of his feet? Sure.” Verin hands over an ankle, grinning down at Jester. “You, I think you’re my favorite.”

As Essek gasps and struggles and falls further and further into a formless mirth that makes him feel so light he can hardly bear it, there’s a different sensation at his ear. A hazy portion of his brain identifies it as the rough bristle of chin scruff and an amused huff of breath.

“You don’t really want them to stop, do you,” Caleb murmurs. “I will help you, if you do.”

It’s quite unfair, Essek feels, to try and make him explain himself while he’s strung out and dizzy with laughter. He tries anyway, for a syllable or two, but Verin digs in between two of his toes and he ends up just tipping his cheek against Caleb’s and shaking, laughing too hard to make a single sound.

“Alright, then,” Caleb says. “In that case-”

He brandishes the feather with a flourish more suited to somatic casting, swooping it down the length of Essek’s nose before directing it back to his ear.

“Tickle, tickle...”

#asks #tickling #critical role #essek thelyss #verin thelyss #caleb widogast #chocfic

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bluejayblueskies · 4 years ago

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53 + Jon for kiss prompts <3

kiss prompt list!

53 - against a wall kiss

i went with jontim! cw for mentions of ghosts, hauntings, and demons, mentions of decay and rot, bats (the animal), and mentions of alcohol

Jon looks up from the small scrap of paper he’s holding, squints suspiciously at the building in front of them, and looks back down at the paper with a frown. “This can’t be right.”

“Huh,” Tim says, peering over Jon's shoulder at the paper. It’s barely illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlamps, small pinpricks of light against the night sky. “This was supposed to be a haunting, right? Some lady kept seeing a shadowy figure out of the corner of her eye, and her lights kept burning out.”

“Alleged haunting,” Jon says tersely. “You know as well as I do that the ‘ghost’ statements are usually absolute rubbish.”

“Yeah, but this one’s got zest,” Tim says with a grin, swiping the paper from Jon’s hands and ignoring Jon’s noise of protest. “Usually it’s all oh, there’s a cold spot and I came home to find the telly on or whatever. But shadowy figures of darkness and deceit—”

Tim gasps dramatically. “Jon, we could be dealing with a demon.”

Jon fixes Tim with an unimpressed look. “It’s more likely that we’ve driven two hours outside of London just to waste our time staring at a house that looks like it hasn’t been lived in for thirty years.”

“Yeah,” Tim says with a grimace, “the place could really use a paint job. And, uh. Some actual glass in the windows.”

Jon sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and mutters something under his breath about don’t get paid enough to—

Tim couldn’t agree more.

“Fine,” Jon says, sounding resigned. He rifles through his satchel for a few moments before retrieving a small black torch. He clicks it experimentally on and off a few times. “We might as well get this over with.”

“As much as I love your enthusiasm,” Tim says, “the place is very clearly condemned, Jon. The chains across the door don’t exactly scream hey, come in, it’s completely safe!”

Not to mention that, technically, they’d have to break and enter. But Tim had learned long ago that the only problem Jon had with that was the physical effort it took to lift himself through broken windows and over chain-link fences. He’d decided, the first time he’d seen Jon pull a lockpick set out of his pocket and pick a lock in less than a minute, that he did, in fact, have a bit of a predilection toward delinquency. Particularly when said delinquent dressed like a college professor and used words like ‘ostentatious’ and ‘salient.’

The being a little bit in love with him bit had come later. But it wasn’t like Tim hadn’t seen it coming.

“I don’t think there will be any demons,” Jon says flatly, and before Tim can explain that he was actually talking about things like asbestos and rotten floorboards, Jon’s crossing the street at a quick pace and approaching the house.

“Christ,” Tim mutters under his breath, scooping his backpack up from the ground and swinging it over his shoulder as he jogs after Jon. “Forget safety, let’s- let’s just run right into an abandoned building. Great.”

By the time Tim’s wriggled his way through one of the ground-floor windows, Jon’s already scanning the inside of the house with his torch, an expression of intense concentration on his face as he maps the walls, ceilings, and floor. “Forget thirty years,” Jon says under his breath. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s ever lived here.”

Jon’s right; beneath all the rot and decay and dust, the house itself is threadbare and hollow, walls a dull white and floor still an unfinished wood. Somehow, that more than anything makes Tim’s stomach turn with unease. “Right, well. This has been fun, but I think we’ve established that the statement belongs solidly in the discredited section so maybe we should… go?”

Jon makes a noncommittal noise. “Why? It’s just gotten interesting.”

“Right,” Tim says under his breath, hating how fond he sounds. “If this house collapses on top of us and we die, I am never going to forgive you.”

Jon scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Nothing’s going to happen?” Tim demands, having just sprinted halfway down the street and into a small side alley with Jon’s hand firmly grasped in his, practically pulling him along.

A bit breathlessly, Jon says, “Well, I- I was right. The house is still very much intact.”

Tim affixes Jon with the strongest glare he can muster, his heart still threatening to jump straight out of his chest. “Jonathan.”

Jon throws his hands up in the air, dragging Tim’s hand with them. “How was I supposed to know that there was something living in there?”

“Because it was condemned, Jon! Of course there were things living there.”

Jon lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “They were just bats, Tim. I would think that would be a significant improvement from demons.”

“Hey, at least I get paid to deal with demons!” At Jon’s raised eyebrow, Tim amends, “Alleged demons. I can handle the monster-under-the-bed stories, but—”

Tim shudders. “Bats. I hate bats.”

Jon’s mouth curves into a smile, and this time the noise he makes falls squarely into the realm of a chuckle. “Yes, I noticed. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you make a noise quite like that.”

“Hey, if you were getting assaulted by God’s most abhorrent creation on this Earth, you also would have screamed. I feel no shame.”

Jon seems to realize that he’s still holding Tim’s hand at the same time Tim does. But instead of letting go, Jon squeezes Tim’s hand tighter and says, “I am sorry. I… may have gotten a bit carried away.”

“Mm, a bit,” Tim agrees pleasantly. He squeezes Jon’s hand back reflexively, and Jon’s intake of breath is audible.

Huh.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline making him bold, or maybe Tim’s just gotten tired of waiting, but he finds it surprisingly easy to take a step closer, bracketing Jon between him and the brick wall of the alleyway, and say, “Jon, if I’m being completely honest: running away from a swarm of bats after breaking into a half-rotted building isn’t the worst way I pictured this evening going.”

“Oh?” Jon says, voice pitched slightly higher.

“I mean,” Tim says with a barely-concealed grin, “running from danger, hand in hand, catching our breath in a very narrow alley?” He shifts a bit closer to Jon, just to prove his point. “Could be worse.”

Jon looks down at their still-joined hands, then back up at Tim with a small frown. “Are you…?” He cuts off with a small sound and a shake of his head. “Ah. Never mind.”

God help him. Tim opts for bluntness, because if he’s going to show a few cards he may as well turn over his entire hand. “Jon, there is nowhere I’d rather be right now than holding your hand in a dingy alleyway.” He pauses, considering, then says, teasingly, “Well, almost nowhere. I hear the Canary Islands are nice this time of year.”

Jon just stares at him for a long moment. Then, just as nerves start to creep up the back of Tim’s throat, Jon lets out a small, breathy laugh and says, “Well, until we get a statement about the Canary Islands, I suppose this will have to do.”

Tim scoffs. “Have to do. You flatter me.”

The smile Jon gives him warms him from the inside out. Carefully, Tim lifts his free hand and settles it on the bricks next to Jon’s head. Jon inhales sharply, and his eyes when they meet Tim’s are wide. Suddenly unsure, Tim says quietly, “Is… is this okay?”

The noise Jon lets out is startlingly close to a whine, and he nods once before saying, in a small voice, “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

Oh, Christ.

Jon’s barely finished speaking when Tim leans in, tangles his fingers more firmly with Jon’s, and captures Jon’s lips with his. Jon lets out a contented sigh and relaxes back against the brick wall, and god, Tim’s never going to get that sound out of his mind. He presses closer and deepens the kiss, documenting every one of Jon’s little noises and sighs and storing them away for later, so he can relive this moment again and again and again.

Tim’s not sure how long they stand there, Jon’s back against the wall and Tim’s hand splayed flat on the brick next to Jon’s head, before a bright flash of car headlights startles them apart. As the light fades, Jon lets out a sound suspiciously close to a giggle before pressing his free hand to his mouth to hide his smile. “Sorry,” he says, his voice muffled by his hand. “I just… all the times I imagined kissing you, I really didn’t have this in mind.”

Tim’s brain, for a brief moment, bluescreens. “All the times?” he says in disbelief. “Jon, all the times?”

Jon drops his hand, looking sheepish. “Yes, well. In my defense, I thought you weren’t interested.”

“Not—” Tim cuts off with an exasperated noise. He reaches down and takes Jon’s hand in his, threading their fingers together and squeezing once. “Let it go on record that I have wanted to kiss you for a long time now and that I am very much interested.”

“Yes,” Jon says, amused. “I know that now.”

Tim groans. Under his breath, he mutters, “Not interested. Ridiculous.”

Jon laughs softly before leaning forward and pressing another chaste kiss to Tim’s lips. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad that I was wrong.”

“Jonathan Sims, admitting that he was wrong? I thought I’d never see the day.”

Jon gives him a glare without any heat. “Yes, yes, all right.”

I love you, Tim wants to say. But it’s entirely too early for that, and he’s certainly not going to give his heartfelt love confession in an alleyway that he’s starting to realize smells something awful. So instead, he pulls lightly on Jon’s hand and says, “Well, I’m definitely not working any more today. Fancy a pint?”

“Only if you don’t ridicule my taste in beer.”

“One time, Jon! That was one time.”

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #jontim #my writing #my fic #my longest kiss prompt yet bc i have no self control

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passable-talent · 5 years ago

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Hello! I am so sorry to request zuko, I know you've had a lot of him but could you do a fic where zuko and the reader meet in the tea shop when they get a job there and they grow really close and start to fall for eachother but the reader ends up joining team avatar just as zuko teams up with azula and the reader is angry and confused with him and doesn't know how to feel when zuko shows up to join the gaang after all they heard about him and Mai and him betraying them and iroh in ba sing se

ADGDVABAG DONT BE SORRY TO REQUEST HIM I LOVE HIM

also I really love the days of Lee just after Zuko’s illness, I wish we could’ve seen more of that side of him. When he was just happy and had so much of his heart to give, before Azula came back and ruined it :/

roe, about five hundred words down and not even halfway through the request: I guess I’m staying up late tonight

After hearing your friends raving of a new tea shop in the upper ring, you agreed to a trip there. You were so damn busy with your schooling, you were training to be in the Dai Li after all, but you could afford to take an afternoon off to sit with some old friends.

You were never much of one to take part in conversation, merely sitting back to listen. You had sat in the chair closest to the wall, leaning back with your feet propped up on someone else’s chair as you sipped tea and listened, eyes drifting all around the shop. The owner and waiter seemed very nice, and the tea was delicious, though the scar of the young waiter interested you. You knew very little about the fire nation, but you did know that an attack by a firebender on an earth kingdom citizen would not be tolerated. Even a fire nation citizen was not above the law of the Earth King!

After that evening, you decided to learn a bit more about the staff of the Jasmine Dragon. You became a regular customer, bringing your texts up to the shop, and sipping tea while you studied. You learned the name of the waiter, Lee, and that the owner was his uncle, called Mushi. They were kind, and soon enough Lee could recite your order before you could even ask it. Your friendship began slowly- from his small smile when you walked in the door, to inviting him to sit with you when he had a moment to rest.

One night, Mushi dropped a tea pot and made a noise of distress when it shattered. You left your textbooks on your table and went to help clean it up, feeling as though it was the right thing to do, especially since the shop was packed and Lee had other things he could be doing.

“I’ll fix it for you, if you like,” you told Mushi, “I’m an earth bender. But it won’t look the same, though.” Mushi gave you a bright smile, insisting that you didn’t need put the effort in, but you gathered your schoolbag and dumped the pieces into it anyway.

That night, you stayed up a bit too late with the candlelight and reassembled the pot. It was a slow process, and just as you expected, the cracks were still visible. The earthbending, you suspected, reshuffled the porcelain back into the clay it was original formed from, and so the pot didn’t look nearly as nice. But it did hold water, and stood up to heat, and Wushi thanked you profusely when you gave it back to him the next day.

A week or so passed, and Mushi invited you to stay past the hours of the shop to have tea with him and his nephew personally. You accepted, eager to talk with them, and learn more about them. Mushi spoke of Lee, and how proud he was of ‘the man Lee was becoming’, and was happy to listen to your discussion of your schoolwork. It seemed, though, that he had an ulterior motive, as before the night was up he offered you a job.

“I’ve got the money to pay you a small salary,” he said, “and Lee could use the help, since we’re getting so popular.” You accepted, gratefully, and started work after your morning lecture, helping with the lunch rush.

It happened so fast, that you could barely process it all.

You friendship with Lee grew until the two of you would flick water at each other while wiping down tables. You would take your breaks together, throw up your feet in a back room, and complain about one unruly customer or another. You’d tell him stories about your training, and he’d tell you stories about his travels with his uncle before coming to Ba Sing Se. Your favorite moments were when Mushi would shove Lee and you out the door, insisting that he could close up shop alone, and that the two of you should get some fresh air.

You shouldn’t say that you fell in love with him, but the spring months of 100 AG were lovely.

Everything changed one afternoon when you came into work and found it empty. You were worried, and dared to wander up and into Mushi’s apartment, finding it empty as well. Just as you were about to leave you ran into Mushi, who asked your help, explaining that he needed to hurry, and he’d give you information along the way. You agreed, and somehow, ended up at the house of the avatar.

The day went so fast, so ridiculously fast, as you bonded with Toph and Sokka, and grew more and more worried for the fate of Lee- or was it Zuko? This whole time, you’d been flicking water at the banished Fire Prince? You’d been taking dating advice from General Iroh, the Dragon of the West?

It was a lot to take in. Even more to take in was the treachery of the organization you were readying to join, and suddenly you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t stay in Ba Sing Se knowing everything that had been hidden from you. So you vowed, at first, to join Iroh and Zuko on their journies away from Ba Sing Se and the fire nation.

Then Zuko betrayed Iroh.

It was something you never could have predicted. This boy, who gently tended to a wound on your arm when you’d brushed against a scalding teapot, who’d held your hand on walks around the upper ring, who’d laughed with his uncle and smiled and had seemed so undeniably good-

This boy had betrayed Iroh and condemned him to prison.

You were angry and hurt, because not only had be betrayed Iroh, but he’d betrayed you. His masquerade, you could forgive, as he was a banished prince, after all. But he sided with the Dai Li, who’d lied to you, and attacked the avatar who’d come to rescue him, and nearly turned his bending on you upon the instruction of his sister.

You were so angry.

So you left with Katara. You helped her escape and reunite with the others, allowing you and Toph to navigate the five of you to safety.

You assisted them as best you could through the spring and summer. You learned stronger forms of earthbending from Toph alongside Aang, and offered your input on his training as well. You helped fight Combustion Man. You fought beside Hakoda on the Day of Black Sun- even facing down firebenders with heartfelt ferocity, remembering how it had felt the first time firebending was turned to you, back in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se. As months passed, more and more anger settled in the pit of your stomach, even as Aang told you to let it go, but he didn’t much help as he told you all the things that Zuko had done before you met him.

None of it made sense. Not to you. It felt like two different people- the boy who laughed with you, and the boy who turned against you.

It made even less sense when Zuko reappeared.

You’d like to say that when you saw him, all you felt was rage, but that wasn’t true. You were happy to see him again, because the lightness of his tone, forced as it may have been, reminded you of the Lee you’d known. But anger corrupted even those feelings as you stalked forward, interrupting his words, watching his expression as he recognized you.

“Y/N?” He asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” you said, and then you raised your hand. You wanted to smack him, but you realized you’d raised your right hand, and if you dealt the blow, you’d hit his scar.

And that felt cruel.

So you exhaled your anger and turned from him, letting your eyes slide to Katara, and then Aang.

“You guys decide this. I’ll have no part in it.”

And you left his sight.

have this meme because that was a really angsty ending

-🦌 Roe

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zeldas-cigarrette · 4 years ago

Text

Jealousy. (request)

I was wondering if I could send in a request for a Farah Dowling x female student( legal age of course) this is my first time requesting for her so it’s a bit cliche and simple but would you be able to do a fix where Farah gets jealous of the reader like someone flirts with the reader and Farah gets very riled up and is even cold but she softens at the sight of reader and there’s a lot of sexual and emotional tension and eventually there’s a confrontation and feelings come to light? ♥️

I hope you like it sweetheart:) And I am so so sorry for the long wait !! (It’s probably not quite what you wanted but I tried???)

for @suckerformadamsatan ✨

Alfea was a wonderful new opportunity for a new start and you integrated well in your first couple of months. It had been strange at first, you just found out that you’re a fairy and the next logical step was to bring you to Alfea. Though it was strange for a while, you adapted pretty quickly. Farah Dowling, the Headmistress, mesmerized you from the very beginning. Her whole presence radiated power and even though you thought that she wasn’t very fond of you, you were proven wrong one particular day.

The sun was swallowed by thick layers of grey clouds, which seemed to have a lot of water saved in them. It was almost certain that the whole otherworld; Solaria, wouldn’t have a dry spot in a few hours. You spent your break in the cafeteria, listening to Bloom, Terra and Aisha talk about some big stuff coming up. You were distracted by Farah, who was talking to Saul on the other side of the room. She looked beautiful, flawless. You wanted to get up and kiss her right in front of all the people. But it was inappropriate, highly. Also, she wouldn’t even feel the same and be embarrassed about the whole thing. What you didn’t know was that Farah did take a liking to you. She felt drawn to you and every time you were focusing on your magic in class, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you. It was a strange feeling in the woman’s gut, she had never dared to fall for a student. She swore to compose herself and be careful with her looks.

You fantasized about how her hand would feel on your hips, holding you close. It was top secret, though you always could tell Musa, you didn’t allow yourself to think about her when you spent time with your friend. As hard as it was, you managed to store your thought deep down in your brain, unable to read them for everyone around you.

The room was filled with a hint of thyme. Everybody seemed to be chatting or eating their lunch, so you felt safe to dedicate some of your thoughts to the woman in the corner. Farah’s hair was done up in a way you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around. „What do you think about it?” Aisha’s voice tore you out of your state. You had no clue what she was talking about, so you just stared at her with big eyes. „Y/n, did you even listen?” Terra asked, eating her last piece of potatoes on her plate. „No, I’m sorry could you repeat it maybe?”

„We were thinking about going to the party tonight and we were wondering if you’d join us,” the earth fairy energetically repeated and was expecting a yes. Since you weren’t really much of a party girl, you had to politely decline. Big crowds, loud music; never was your thing, never will be.

The bell rang and a bunch of people made their way to the classrooms. Bloom and Terra didn’t bother to move, while Aisha shoved pieces of apples in her mouth. A tap on your shoulder made you avert your gaze from the leaving students and made you focus on the person who wished for your attention. In front of you appeared a tall guy, brown curly hair. „Can I help you?” you raised an eyebrow. You had never seen him before. „I’m Brian,” he cleared his throat, „I watched you for some time.” His eyes widened when he realized what he’d just said, „I didn’t mean it that way, I just find you entrancing and I wanted to ask if you’d like to go to the party with me tonight.”

You gulped, you hated telling people off. You were sure what you wanted and what you didn’t but sometimes you failed to communicate it correctly. Moments of silence lingered in the air and you felt the stares of the girls on you. It was awkward, to say the least. „I’m sorry…” you forgot his name. „Brian,” he added seeing that his name wasn’t present in your head. „I’m sorry Brian but I don’t really like to party that much so,” you weren’t sure if that was convincing enough. He nodded. Since you wanted to escape this awkward tension as quickly as possible you got up from the chair, gathered your things, and were about to rush out of the cafeteria. Not even halfway through the door, you got held back by a hand on your wrist. It was him again. You internally rolled your eyes but kept a friendly face. „How about we just go for a walk then, in the moonlight?” his voice was soaked with sugar.

If you had been at a loss of words you could’ve stopped him from rambling on. „And I can pick you up at nine and we could also have dinner before.” Slightly, you shook your head before you found the right words, „I think you’re a good guy, but I’m just not into guys you know? So no, I don’t think I’d like to do this.” A sad expression spread on his face but he seemed to acknowledge it. The boy turned around and quickly walked away. It must’ve been awful for him, you thought to yourself. Still, you made your way out of the cafeteria to head for your next class. You saw the last few students in the hallway scurry to their rooms when a hand on your shoulder made you stop immediately. It has to be that Brian guy again.

—♡︎

Farah watched the whole thing happen from her position and she felt her blood boil from the scene that was offered. It took her a long time to figure out what was going on, every time the older fairy saw you; something in her stomach twirled (in a good way). Brian seemed to be persistent although she could see that you clearly didn’t enjoy his presence, Farah felt a hint of jealousy creeping up in her. She wanted to be the one asking you out, holding your hand. She let Saul talk without showing him a hint of interest. When she saw you rushing out of the room, the fairy saw an opportunity.

—♡︎

„God Brian, didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?” it was almost anger that filled your voice. As you turned around, you almost choked on your own saliva. Her features weren’t easy to read, you had no idea what she was thinking. The little wrinkles around her eyes were soon gone when she unclenched her jaw. „In my office!” It almost scared you, have you been that rude just now? Nonetheless, you followed her, looking down on your feet. Arriving at her office, the older fairy pulled you inside almost hectic if you hadn’t known better.

Farah had both of her arms braced on her hips, inspecting every little detail of you as if she had never done that before. „What have I done?” you asked shyly not knowing what trouble you now caused. „Actually…” Farah began and hesitated, „nothing?” It was remarkable that not even the headmistress knew what was going on. „So am I allowed to leave?” no doubt you enjoyed her presence but that was awkward. While waiting for an answer, you studied your surroundings. A huge wooden desk stood in the middle of the room, paperwork, pencils, and other things you couldn’t quite make out covered the top. The room was barely agleam, only a thin ray of sun threw a slight light in the room. A few lit scented candles took the job and made the room glow in a crimson-like shade.

„I have to confess something,” Farah’s voice sounded almost as if she was afraid. As if the whole situation wasn’t weird enough, she had to confess something…? Her eyes scanned you for approval before she just went on. The fairy turned around to now face the wall. „Well,” the woman drew in a long breath, „I was jealous?” It sounded like a question. „About what?” that was quicker than you had intended to. Her head quickly jolted in your direction. Silence between the two of you settled again. Realization hit just a couple of seconds after, it was about what happened with Brian. „He was flirting with you and I- I just…” she stuttered. Farah’s features softened when she saw the slight smile tugging on your lips. You walked over to her, thinking about if this was right twice, and took her hands in yours. A delicate smile graced her lips and that was when you knew it was mutual. Farah’s right hand went up to your face to cup your cheek, she pulled your face closer until her lips landed on yours. The kiss was in sync, it felt unreal; like heaven.

What you didn’t know was that Farah had spent nights thinking about you, thinking about what could go wrong. She had scolded herself for having those feelings for a student. At that moment every doubt was forgotten. She had lightly pushed you against her desk, letting her hands roam around on your body. Of all the times you stood close to her you never realized how heavenly she smelt, like a field of lavender.

—♡︎

It didn’t take long until the two of you became inseparable, you spent almost every minute with her (except when you had to be in class). You knew she could easily get jealous. Every time someone talked to you, she had this look on her face that made your heart skip a beat. She was so afraid of losing you to someone younger than her. The little „I love you.”’s before you went to sleep every night, they reassured her that you wouldn’t leave.

#sapphic #fanfiction #fanfic #farah dowling x reader #farah dowling #fate the winx saga #eve best #gay #love is love #wlw ship #wlw love #x reader imagines #fluff #angsty #middle aged actresses

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

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DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol. 3 Sakamaki Shuu Stellaworth Tokuten: “Monopolizing Her”

Original title: 彼が貴女を独り占めするCD

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 3 Sakamaki Shuu Stellaworth Tokuten CD [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toriumi Kousuke

Translator’s note: I enjoyed this CD a little more than I would like to admit, haha. Shuu teasing the MC honestly gives me life. > < It has been a while since I played any Shuu route since he almost always first and I’m close to finishing one game and about halfway through the other, so I’m glad you guys are still requesting his stuff so I can get my Shuu fix. xD

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

You enter the room and walk up to a sleeping Shuu.

“Zzー... Nn...”

You start trying to wake him up.

*Rustle rustle*

“Mmh...Nn...”

*Rustle rustle*

You eventually give up and call his name.

“Nnー Shut up...Hm...”

You beg for him to wake up.

*Rustle rustle*

“...Nnh...You’re annoying...What do you want?”

You offer to go outside.

“Hah...? You woke me up just to say that? My answer’s no. If you want to head out, you can do so by yourself. I’m gonna nap.”

*Rustle*

“Ugh...Stop talking to me...You really are trying everything to prevent me from sleeping, aren’t you?”

You insist.

“Who cares if you won the tickets? I’m not interested in some mucisian’s concert. If you want to go, be my guest.”

You explain the situation.

“Haah...It’s couples only, huh? Guess you can’t get in then. Too bad for you. Why not watch the broadcast on TV then?”

You keep on begging.

“Nn...You’re persistent. Didn’t I just tell you that I’m not going? That is the one thing I want to be clear about. I am not moving, no matter what happens.”

You mention that there will be a part on classical music as well.

“...! What did you say just now?”

You repeat yourself.

“Hm...There’s a classical recital as well? I changed my mind.”

You blink in confusion.

“What are you spacing out for? We’re going to this concert. Shouldn’t you get ready?”

You remind him of his earlier words.

“I never said I wouldn’t move.”

You shake your head.

“I didn’t. Do you want to go with me? Or not? Which one is it?”

You tell Shuu you want to go.

“Then hurry up and get ready. I’m leaving you behind if you keep me waiting.”

You nod, quickly running off.

*TIMESKIP*

Upbeat music plays in the background followed by fans cheers.

“Haah...It’s so loud...I know this is supposed to be one of those lives (1), but I didn’t think the music would be this annoying. It’s crowded as well, I’m feeling fed up already. ...It’s still not over? How far are we in right now?”

You reply.

“It’s long...Only halfway? So, when exactly is the classical part? I’m starting to itch to go home.”

You tell him that the musician has to speak first.

“A speech by the artist? (2)”

You explain.

“Ah, you’re referring to him talking right now? The recital comes after this, right? In that case, I’ll listen just a little longer.”

The artist talks to the crowd.

“Haah? That guy’s telling us to hold hands or something?”

You nod.

“Ah, right. I guess the whole crowd consists of couples, huh? They’re trying to appeal to the audience like that? What a drag.”

You offer your hand.

“We don’t have to follow his orders, do we? ...Or do you want to hold my hand, perhaps? In that case, I’ll offer you one. Why not do as you please?”

You hesitate.

“Why are you hesitating? Ah. You don’t want to? In that case, I don’t mind either.”

You shake your head, begging to hold his hand.

“Haha, you’re way too desperate. You’re such a cheap woman too, getting all happy over something like this. However, I’m well aware that those innocent reactions of yours are just for show. There’s no way something this childish would be able to satisfy you, right? So you don’t mind if I run my fingers across yours like this, do you?”

*Rustle*

You flinch.

“Does it tickle? Or did you feel it just now? You’re as sensitive as ever. You’re so lewd to feel good over something like this.”

You protest.

“Hm? What was that? I can’t hear you over all the other noise. You’ll have to come closer to tell me. Bring your lips towards my ear.”

You repeat yourself.

“Hmm~? You want me to stop? But the artist told us to do this, so I won’t stop.”

You ask if he is mad at you.

“Haah...? I’m not upset or anything. Well, I might be a little agitated by this ruckus and ridiculous crowd. I’d love to suck your blood right now just to distract myself but...”

You flinch.

“...I’ll keep that for after we’re back home. Right now, I’ll enjoy watching you struggle instead. You can use this as an opportunity to anticipate my fangs. Your blood tastes so much richer and sweeter after you’ve been teased after all.”

You puff out your cheeks.

“...Hm? He wants us to face each other next.”

You turn to the side.

“Oi. Don’t turn your head away. What’s the point in getting embarrassed still? Look my way.”

You refuse.

“Heeh...You’re stubborn, huh? Come on, look at me, I said.”

*Rustle*

“...Don’t waste your energy resisting when you’ve looked at my face a million times already. It’s a pain to keep on having to force you to turn your head. Also scoot a little closer. Don’t move away from me.”

Shuu pulls you close.

*Rustle rustle*

“Haha...You’re restless. Are you having a hard time relaxing when I’ve got my arms looped around your waist? Don’t be playing innocent, I usually do things much more intense to you. Both your body and soul already belong to me, don’t they? If this much is enough to make you throw in the towel, you might not be able to keep up with me in the future, you know? Well, I wouldn’t mind if you were to break or go crazy though. I will stay by your side, no matter what happens to you.”

They get the next instructions from the artist.

“...Hah. Did you hear that?”

Your cheeks turn bright red.

“He wants us to kiss while looking at one another. We have to listen to him, no? So you should initiate the kiss.”

Your eyes widen in shock.

“What? Don’t tell me you can’t?”

You tell him it’s embarrassing.

“Heeh...You find it embarrassing in front of other people, huh? I’ll let you off the hook then.”

You seem somewhat disappointed.

“What? You don’t want to, no? If you’re not up for it, I guess I have no other choice.”

You frown.

“The next song’s about to start. Guess we should turn back to the stage and find ourselves a spot.”

The music begins to play.

“...What?”

You ask for permission to kiss him.

“Haha...You should have just said so earlier. Lift your face then. ...I’ll tuck your hair behind your ear so it’s easier.”

*Rustle*

“...You’re hot. Not just your ears, your whole body feels feverish.”

Shuu steps closer.

“I’m leaning in, so you can reach, right? Wouldn’t it be better to cup both sides of my face with your hands so you can do it properly?”

You cup his cheeks.

“Hahaha...You’re actually gonna do it? Your hands are shaking though. Bring your face closer to mine. ...Exactly, just a little further. A little more...”

*Smooch*

“Heh. I was expecting this, but you actually went for my cheek after getting that flustered? Okay then. I’ll teach you. Not only it is dim in here, but there’s a flashy concert going on. I doubt anyone will take notice of us.”

He pulls you close.

*Rustle*

“I’ll use the remaining time to teach you thoroughly. Although I’m not sure if just kisses will actually be enough to satisfy you.”

You become even more flustered.

“Didn’t I tell you? The more I tease you, the more delicious you become...I’ll give it to you plenty once we’re back. Both kisses, and my fangs...”

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) I think he says ショー気分ライブ or ‘show-kibun live’ here, which literally means ‘a live concert with the feeling/vibes of a show’. I was not quite sure how to accurately translate this to English. xD I guess it means one of those really upbeat concerts where everyone is screaming and waving those light sticks in the air.

(2) Te word トーク or ‘talk’, derived from English, is used in Japanese to refer to an artist talking on stage in between performing different songs.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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aka-ashi-keiji · 4 years ago

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“i can’t hear you”

Bakugou Katsuki x best friend reader

soft angst

tw: screaming, emotional meltdown.

short fic about bakugou and you’re his childhood best friend, and you help him through dealing with his hearing loss. enjoy lovies.

*******************************************************

You woke up to the sound of your mother knocking on your door and yelling, “y/n wake up, you have training today with katsuki. i love that boy but i am not in the mood to deal with his explosive attitude over you being late .” You lived right next door to katsuki all your life and since your moms were best friends, you guys were best friends since you learned how to walk. Every saturday you guys would train from 8 AM to noon in his garage since it was basically a mini gym, and then after you both would head over to your house. You checked the time on your phone on the bedside table and it read 7:50. “SHIT MOM WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER” you yelled as you jumped out of bed and quickly found a black tank top and grey sweatpants to train in. You could hear your mom chuckling as she walked away from your door. You grabbed your headphones, phone, water bottle, and Nike’s before yelling a goodbye and dashing over to Katsuki’s front yard.

You knocked on his door four times so that his family knew it was you. You were halfway through slipping your shoes on when Mitsuki answered. She yawned and pulled you into a side hug. “Good morning y/n, you hungry?” She asked as she closed the door behind you guys and started towards the kitchen. “No thanks Mitsuki, I don’t like to train on a full stomach. My mom is making a huge lunch though, you guys are welcome to join us.” You said cheerfully, but kept your voice low since it was very early and you could tell Katsuki’s mom was still half asleep. She nodded and then whipped her head to face you wearing a look on her face as if she had just remembered something very important. “Kat has been very on edge lately and not very responsive this week.” She paused before starting again and turned her gaze to the floor, almost as if she didn’t want to talk. “I think it might have to do with his hearing. He won’t admit it, but I think his quirk is finally starting to affect him. Good thing we put him in those sign language classes as a precaution.” she laughed dryly and then turned back to look at you. “Just, take it easy him with the teasing today okay? and maybe try speaking a little louder. I’ll go see if he’s ready” and with that she gathered herself up the stairs and disappeared.

You thought silently as you waited, and all of a sudden it made sense. Lately at school bakugou has been yelling more than usual, and telling everyone to speak louder. Maybe he was yelling more to be able to hear himself? You didn’t know. Bakugou has been learning sign language since he was 7 years old as a precaution for this and has been regularly signing while he talks since he was 10. So, bakugou using his sign language all the time wasn’t uncommon, but maybe Mitsuki was right. You made a mental note not to say anything until you actually noticed a big change in your guys’ training. You waited patiently for about another 10 minutes before Katsuki finally came downstairs.

“Hey idiot, nice outfit.” Katsuki greeted you in his groggy morning voice, his hands signing his words lazily. You looked down at the tank top and sweatpants you were wearing and looked back to him, you both were wearing the same exact thing. “Morning pom pom” you greeted back as you gathered your things and started to head towards the garage. You turned around to see bakugou staring into nothing, so you called out. “Hey kat, you coming?” No response. You repeated yourself, but this time loud enough you were sure you woke his dad. He whipped his head towards you and nodded before following along. As you were walking down the hall, you turned to him and asked, “You okay?” while signing your words. Katsuki looked down at your hands and his cheeks started to dust with the lightest shade of pink. He huffed and his red eyes sparked as he just growled out a ‘yeah’ and walked ahead of you into the garage, starting to set up for your session. You yourself had picked up sign language at a young age because your dad was deaf because his quirk was being able to shoot sonic booms from his hands. you pressed the button to open the garage door and let some light in. You then walked over to the speakers and plugged your phone in as you hit play on your playlist specifically for training days. Bakugou stopped setting up the bench press station and yelled, “Can you turn it up? “ as he signed quickly, but then went back to putting the weights together. You turned back to the speaker only to be surprised since the volume was already almost at max capacity. You shook your head and turned the volume all the way up. This session should be interesting.

It was around 9:30 AM at this point and you and Kat had finished weights and went on a 2 mile run. You were currently sitting on the floor stretching your quads as the loud techno music boomed around you. You glanced over at katsuki who was stretching on the other side of the garage and he seemed to be in a whole other universe. You called out to him, but he didn’t do so much as flinch. You picked yourself up off the floor and slowly walked towards him. You called a few more times and still got nothing from him, so you decided to turn off the music. As soon as you did Katsuki’s head shot up and his eyes darted towards you. “What the hell was that for dipshit? We’re gonna start sparring soon, we need it.” He said/yelled at you while you sauntered over to him and took a seat about a foot away from his now steaming body. You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your arm before talking to katsuki, well you didn’t exactly talk with your voice, you were mostly signing. “Katsuki are you sure you’re okay? You’re not responding when I call out for you.” You waited for his response as his eyes stayed on your hands that were once moving. This time he answered, but for some reason he didn’t sign. “If I tell you, you can’t tell a single soul you hear me dumbass? Not even my parents. “ You nodded your head and gently reach over to squeeze his hand four times, your guys’ way of saying I promise. He then began to talk, and signed very aggressively as he did so, and what he said was enough to shatter you into a million pieces.

“I’ve been struggling in a way lately,” he started, “I tried to cover it up by just yelling all the time hoping people would just think it was my normal behavior. But, really it was so i could he hear myself.” Katsuki let out a long breath and you could see his hands slightly shaking. “It started out last week as just a slight ringing, but it got louder every damn day. But, this week the ringing got quieter, and eventually everything around me started to sound like I was underwater. “ He looked up at you and your breath hitched, tears rolled down katsuki’s face as he held eye contact. He shook out his hands and took another shakey breath before he began, “I- I can barely hear you y/n! And its so frusturating.” the volume of his voice was rising, and you could see the pain he was feeling through his eyes and the tears that were now dripping down to his shirt. “I can’t hear your fucking voice damnit! It’s the only one that doesn’t drive me up fucking walls. it terrifies me!” He was screaming at this point as his hands worked through the air to express his words. The tears came at a much quicker pace once he had stopped to breathe, and those tear turned into sobs as he curled in on himself. He tucked his knees to his chest and ducked his head into his arms as they wrapped around his legs. His shoulders and back shook as he cried, and for a moment you didn’t know what to do. You haven’t seen Katsuki cry since you both were 8 years old and he was playing with his quirk and accidently blasted your arm. He started crying as soon as he heard you wail in pain, and the lecture from his mother didn’t help in the slightest. You subconsciously reached up to rest your hand on the scar as you tried to think of what you could say to him.

Katsuki leveled his head and looked up at you, and slowly reached his hand out, still crying quietly. For a second you didn’t know what he meant, but it soon clicked in your head and you took his hand in yours. you looked at him with teary eyes and signed, “How can i help?” He untucked his legs from his chest and moved closer to you. Then, before you could even register what was happening, Katsuki had his arms around your waist with his head on your shoulder. You froze, it had been quite some time since either of you had needed a hug like this. once your shock had subsided, you brought your hands to rest on his upper back and rubbed soothingly. He began to cry again, which then led to sobs just like they had before. You began to talk, whispering variations of ‘I’m here’ and ‘You don’t have to be scared’, only to remember that he probably can’t hear you. Seeing katsuki as vulnerable as this broke your heart, and single tear fell from your face. Katsuki could feel your jaw muscles moving against the side of his face, so he knew you were talking, but he couldn’t hear you. “I- i- i- I can’t hear! I can’t hear you! Y/n I can’t hear you, fix it please, please I hate this so much!” He screamed into your shoulder which luckily muffled it enough to not draw any attention from the neighbors. He gripped onto your waist tighter as he breathed long and hard breaths. “I’m so scared. I’m terrified of losing you.” He whispered. This had confused you so you gently placed your hands on his shoulders and put a bit of distance between you guys so he could see you signing. “What do you mean you’re gonna lose me? I’m not going anywhere.” You said and waited for his response. He brought his trembling hands up to start signing and began, “I’m scared that if i can’t hear you, I won’t hear you calling me for help when you’re in danger. What kind of hero am I if i can’t even save my best friend?” You took one of his hands in yours and began to sign with your other. “You’re gonna be okay, We’re both gonna get you through this. I know you, and you don’t take shit from no one. And I know damn well you’re not gonna let a little hearing loss get in the way of beating deku.” He laughed slightly at the last statement, and seeing his small smile was like the world coming off of your shoulders. “We’ll take you to the doctor, they’ll help you.” He shook his head at that and his angry glowering returned. “It’s not anything to be embarrassed about. And I’m sure your parents would do anything to help you become the hero you want to be.” You finished your monologue and squeezed his hand four times, promising him you’re not going anywhere. He smiled down at his hand and then brought his other one up to sign, “I love you shithead” and you signed back, “Yeah I know, I love you too Kat”.

He began to stand up and Katsuki pulled you up with him. He immediately pulled you into the tightest bear hug possible. No one knew, but Katsuki was the biggest hugger, and it was your favorite thing about him. You released your arms from his waist and he released his hold around your shoulders. You took the sides on his face in your hands, and pointed to your lips as a signal to read your words. He nodded his head, and in a volume Katsuki couldn’t hear, you said, “I can hear you, I can hear you.”. He nodded and smiled the most genuine smile you’d seen out of him in years. “You ready?” he signed, and you answered “for what?”. He smirked and was quiet for a few seconds before shoving you to the side a little and running off towards your house. “Race you!” he yelled, “First one there, is your mom’s favorite you loser.” Kat called again. You smiled and shook your head as you sprinted off after him, remembering this is the Katsuki that will be the #1 hero someday.

***************************************🌸

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Sixteen ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3021

Warnings: None

A/n Every chapter, you all make me smile so much <3 Thank you!

Haldir leaves and I let out something halfway between an exhale and a groan.

What. Was. That.

My room, which is a very respectable size, felt like a matchbox as the space between Haldir and I minimized. He went from weeks of keeping a consistent physical barrier between us to ghosting his hands over my arms, my hips, my waist…It’s…new.

And when he held me close, his chest so nearly brushing against my back—

I shake my head against the onslaught of scenarios that run through my mind.

I should not be thinking of him this way.

Haldir is a friend, a guide, an instructor, nothing more.

I let out a deep breath and begin to pace, trying to work off this newfound energy. Haldir and I trained for nearly two hours, I should be exhausted. Instead, I feel wide awake, invigorated, jittery, like I couldn’t possibly go to sleep. I groan, taking my hair out of its bun and letting it fall around me. I stop in my tracks, glancing at the spot where Haldir and I stood so close together just moments ago.

I cannot stay here.

I tear through the open door, turning right and taking the staircase that leads to the first floor. I turn left and, before I know it, I’m standing in front of Alex’s closed door.

I knock.

The door creaks open. “Hey,” he greets, opening it wider to allow me in. “What’s up?”

“I uh,” I purse my lips, having not really thought through my plan. I do need a distraction though, and being out of my room is already helping clear the fog from my brain. My eyes catch a pile of books on his nightstand. “I came to help you research, if that’s okay.”

His face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, of course. I’ve read those three so far,” he gestures to a small stack by the window, “and there’s nothing helpful in them. Everything else in English is fair game. Is there anything specific you want to look into?”

“Fæs.” I’m surprised that the answer comes to me so easily, but as soon I speak the word, I know it’s true — I do want to learn more.

Alex nods slowly. “Yeah, okay, I think I’ve got a couple books on that here. Let me….” He trails off, spinning in a circle as he searches for a specific volume. “Ah.” He squats down and grabs a book near the foot of his bed, reaching it up to me.

An image of Haldir, crouched on the ground, hand warm against my ankle, staring up at me with such intensity, so much confidence—

Alex stands and I look to the ceiling, trying to will away the image and the feelings that come rushing along with it.

“What makes you want to learn about fæs? Isn’t that an elf thing?”

I purse my lips, stalling until the embarrassment fades enough to look Alex in the eye. “Haldir mentioned that humans have their own version of a fæ — a little weaker, a little different, but generally the same concept.” An idea begins to take form, and I roll with it. “I was wondering if—assuming that our fæs remained unchanged between our homeworld and Arda—well, if we could use it somehow, tap into it and reclaim our memories. If anything were to remember, wouldn’t it be our spirits?”

Alex nods slowly, a grin tugging at the edges of his lips. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Great thinking! Let me know if you find anything.”

He settles into the couch, leaving the bed for me. Gratefully, I cozy up against the pillows. I open the book, skimming the introductory chapter, which is basically just a summary of the core concepts Haldir has already explained to me. When I’m on chapter three, the sky passes firmly into night, and even the plethora of candles Alex has lit aren’t enough to keep my eyes from straining.

I pull my knees to my chest and lean forward, glancing over at my friend. His cheeks — which had been gaunt when we first reunited, now take a healthy shape. His shoulders no longer hold vestiges of tension — they lean relaxed, leisurely, against the back of the couch. Even in the limited light, he squints his eyes and continues to read, seeming intent on soaking up as much knowledge as he can.

I rest my chin on my knees. “I need to ask you something.”

He looks up, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Okay?”

“Are you alright?”

He sighs, shifting in his seat. “Cosima…”

“No,” I protest. I don’t care if it’s uncomfortable, he needs to talk about things. He’s been bottling it up since he arrived in this world and it hasn’t done anyone any good. “I mean it.”

Alex groans, shaking his head. “Fine, okay. It’s…strange.” He pauses, but I wait, holding out hope that he’ll continue. He does so, slowly. “I’ve…gotten myself to accept that I’m in a different world, but I can’t wrap my mind around the how. That’s stressful. We don’t have a solid plan to return home, nor do we know if we’ll find one. That’s depressing. And, I have flashes and snippets of memories, but otherwise, I feel like I don’t know who I am.”

My heart breaks. Here my friend is, hurting, lost…

And I’ve left him completely alone.

Alex tilts his head to the side, contemplating. “But I do feel better than when we arrived, or even just from a few days ago. Having things to do, feeling useful and like I have agency for the first time…it’s really good for me. And, well,” he dips his head then raises it again, leveling his eyes on me. “It’s helped me realize something else — that I owe you an apology.”

I blink in surprise. I’ve been the one that has pretty much abandoned and ignored him. I should be apologizing.

“On the road, I said some pretty mean things, and I isolated you from your friends and tried to take control. I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I was…” he sighs, shaking his head, “scared out of my mind. I already felt like I couldn’t do anything to fix the problem, and then on top of that I felt like you had completely given up and it was my job to save us both. And I know now that’s not the case, but for a while…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re just more adaptable than I am, I guess.”

I push myself off the bed, cross the room, and sit next to him on the small couch. Automatically, he throws an arm over my shoulder, the movement so familiar and easy that he must have done it a thousand times before. I lay my head on his shoulder, the bone there pressing against my ear.

I take a deep breath. “If we had really been kidnapped, or injured, or anything more realistic than what actually happened,” he gives a small, tired laugh, the movement shaking his shoulder, “you would’ve been the one to get us out. I know it. Even now, you’re the one putting in all the hard work to get us home. I’m sorry I’ve pretty much left you to handle it alone.”

He squeezes my upper arm gently. “I appreciate it, but I don’t blame you. I get it.” He shrugs again, a measure of sadness creeping into his voice. “It’s not like you remember anyone enough to miss them. If you have people you like here, of course you’d focus on them.”

I feel my lips pull into a guilty frown. “They like you too, you know. You all just need to spend some more time together—”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, pushing a smile onto his face. “It’s okay, honestly — we just don’t click. But I have you, and Baranor and I get along well, and I have this project to work on. It’s enough for me.”

I sigh, resting my head against his chest. I hope that’s true.

{***}

At breakfast, Lavandil and I make plans to meet at her shop. She gives me directions and I hurry up the stairs to my room, changing out of my tunic and leggings and into something a little more fun for my first day of work. I settle on a dark purple gown, one that billows down my arm in puffy gossamer sleeves and has a slight, sparkly train. I’m probably a bit overdressed, but knowing Lavandil’s extravagant wardrobe, I’ll fit in just fine. I bound down the staircase, eager to discover the market and the shop. I turn left, intent on exiting the building.

And crash into the middle of someone’s chest.

Hands grip my upper arms, steadying me as I stumble back. Once I’m righted, I look up, and my mouth falls open.

“Cosima—”

“Haldir—”

Both of us freeze, having spoken at the same time. I purse my lips, waiting for him to go first. He raises an eyebrow, evidently expecting the same of me.

But I can’t make the words happen. His hands on my arms send my mind right back to the tension of last night, to the room that started light and open and turned more intimate than it should as the night went on.

Haldir’s arms fall to his sides. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you turning the corner. Are you alright?”

I nod, my eyes darting from his chest clothed in a cobalt blue tunic up to his eyes. The intensity from last night is gone, now replaced with a noticeable degree of hesitance.

Interesting.

Did he feel something last night, too? Or does he know I did, and now feels awkward around me?

That last thought sends a wave of stress through me. Was I horribly obvious? Have I messed everything up?

“Are you off to Lavandil’s shop,” he inquires, pulling my mind away from these anxiety-inducing thoughts.

“Yes.”

He quirks a smile. “Then I imagine you will be seeing a lot of my brother today. He has a tendency to hang around there.”

“Probably a result of him being in love with the shop-owner,” I quip, voice going high with nerves.

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose that would do it.”

We fall into awkward silence.

Haldir clears his throat. “Well, enjoy your day.”

“You too,” I nod, crossing paths with him to exit the building.

Once outside, I take in a gulping breath.

Did I create all that weirdness? Or is he struggling to figure out how to act around me, too? And why?

Things have never been strained or awkward between myself and Haldir. Once he got over his initial suspicion of me, we got along easily. I feel like he understands me better than the others and, if I had to pick a favorite, as Rumil prompted me not so long ago, it would be, without question, the supposedly-stern Marchwarden leading our company. And, based on the amount of time he spends with me of his own accord, I would say he enjoys my presence, too.

So, that begs the question, what could have happened to turn all that ease on its head and replace it with stilted, awkward, unsure interactions? We were fine until last night—

I suck in a breath.

My brain, apparently useless until I looked the issue straight in the eye, starts piecing together instances of my time with Haldir, forming a terrifying and exhilarating picture.

Sleeping between me and the entrance to our camp so I wouldn’t be frightened. Spending hours alone with me lying on a blanket staring up at the stars. The way he panicked and looked after me when I had my migraine. Big things like that and smaller ones, too — the way he teases me, the way he always makes sure I’m cared for, whether that means sharing from his canteen or sending me with food when I’m likely to miss dinner. The way he’s conscious of my fears—heights, orcs, you name it—and provides support without coddling me, enabling me to handle and face them on my own. The way his arms, so gentle yet so secure, held me close, even for just the smallest of moments.

Could we…have feelings for each other?

Could this rapid and strong attachment to an ellon I met mere weeks ago be something other than friendship?

With a sinking feeling in my gut, the momentary rush of excitement falls into something much more sinister. Something that, in any other world would be a wonderful, thrilling feeling—the one I am developing feelings for maybe, potentially, might see me the same way—is here, horrifying.

Because elves live forever and love only once.

And a human lifespan is dismally short.

Rumil’s face after our conversation yesterday, crestfallen and saddened, comes to my mind.

If my mere friendship with these ellyn will cause them grief when I’m gone, then even entertaining these thoughts about Haldir….

It’s deplorable.

From the heart of the city, the bell chimes. I’m late to meet Lavandil.

I shove down the ache that makes my lips quiver and hurry down the path that will lead me to the market.

The distraction of working with Lavandil will be my lifeline.

I cannot allow my feelings for Haldir progress any further. So, though I’m not sure how effective I’ll be, I swear not to think about him for the rest of the day.

{***}

“What happened last night between you and Haldir?”

Damn.

I made it two hours.

I swallow, trying to seem busy as I hang a tapestry on a display. “What?”

Lavandil comes up beside me, using her height to hang the art properly. “Rumil told Orophin who told me that Haldir came back from training with you and seemed quite flustered.”

My body runs hot. “Did he?”

“Mhm,” she nods decisively. “Apparently he returned to the room in a rush, wouldn’t say a thing, and then spent over three hours at the training grounds, sparring quite harshly with some of the guard.”

Even though the tapestry is hung, I pretend to fuss with it, not brave enough to meet Lavandil’s eyes. “Nothing happened. Maybe he just wanted a better workout — I can’t imagine I was much of a challenge.” I try for a joke, and mercifully, she gives me a pity laugh.

Her demeanor softens. “Cosima, you know there’s nothing wrong with having an attraction, or even feelings.”

“Of course there’s something wrong with it,” I shriek, much louder than I meant to. I look at her with wide eyes, surprised by my outburst.

Thankfully, no one is in the shop, and Lavandil only regards me with calm eyes, no judgement in them.

“I’m sorry,” I hurry to apologize, sitting myself in a chair at a nearby table. On top of it sits a beautiful garnet tablecloth — Lavandil’s work. She sits across from me.

“It’s alright,” she smiles kindly, resting her elbows on the table to mirror me. “I had a similar disposition when I realized I loved Orophin.”

“I don’t love him,” I correct quickly.

She puts her hands up in the sign for surrender, though her bottom lip pulls like she’s trying not to make a face.

“I don’t,” I insist, putting effort into keeping my tone non-angry. I lower my voice, worried, perhaps irrationally, that Haldir himself will go waltzing by and hear my dreadful confession. “It’s, at most, an interest, and probably not even that. Likely more of a curiosity.”

“Well, interests are nothing to be ashamed of.” Her tone matches my low volume and carries in it a gentleness I could never hope to emulate.

“Yes, they do!” My voice drops to nearly a whisper. “Lavandil, he is an elf. You know I’m human. The two don’t mix well.”

She huffs. “There’s nothing to say that. An elleth here, Arwen—”

“Is walking into a tragedy,” I cut her off.

Lavandil’s eyes narrow. “Too many people see it that way, and it is getting quite old. Do you know what I see? Two souls in love. Though their futures are bleak and incompatible, their presents are filled with joy and love and the connection that can only come from two fæs who want each other so badly finally bonded. They would still face pain if they ignored their love for each other — so why not give themselves what joy they can?”

“But she will die—”

Now it’s Lavandil’s turn to interrupt. “Arwen is fully grown. She is wise, and I trust that she knows herself well enough to make the choices she has. Her life is ultimately her own. She can spend it how she pleases.”

I press my lips together, head falling to stare at the deep red tablecloth. Despite Lavandil’s conviction, her words do nothing to allay my fears.

The only thing that awaits an elf bonded with a human is grief and death.

Arwen may have made her choice, but so have I made mine.

“Rumil said elves can take centuries to fall in love. Is that true?”

Lavandil pauses, caught off guard with my change in topic. “I-in some cases, yes. More that it could potentially take that long for an elf to admit they are in love. Often, even if they are not ready to accept it, their fæs know. And even then, that is the timeline in the most rare of cases. You know, for Orophin and I it only took a matter of—”

I raise my eyes to her, pleading. “Lavandil.”

She sighs, staring at me like she wishes I had asked her something else. “Fine, yes. Elves fall slower than humans.”

I take in a deep breath, nodding.

Good.

Because if I have only just noticed these feelings, chances are, if Haldir were to follow suit, he is way behind. The instance Lavandil described from last night, the other hints that show he might be feeling something…I can end them now.

I have time to stop this.

I have time to save him.

A/n So, funny thing, @errruvande got pretty close to guessing Cosima’s reaction to realizing her feelings for Haldir, so shout out to Liza!!! Seriously though, love her, love her blog, I’d definitely recommend checking her account out! Thank you all for reading!

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

#haldir #haldir x ofc #haldir x oc #haldir fanfic #haldir fanfiction

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truly-madly-slytherin · 4 years ago

Text

The Dark Princess

*gif not mine//credit to the owner

A/N: Hello loveliessss! 🌸 so I’m hoping that my writing in this chapter has improved somewhat from the last and that it is as magical for you to read as it was for me to write ☺️ I appreciate every like, reblog and follow so thank you all so much 🥰🥰 there’s a bit of a jump between the prologue and the main story so this is more of a filler chapter and in case anyone is confused she has the diary because Tom makes sure (Y/N) intercepts it in between Ginny getting rid of it and Harry finding it. Alsooo I suck at introductions so bear with me 😅 Happy reading peoples! 🥳🥳 Italics = flashback/dream, (E/C) = your eye colour, (H/C) = hair colour

Summary: It is the beginning of the summer after your fourth year and you are moving into Riddle House with your father, at his insistence, making you think back to when you first met him during your second year at Hogwarts. You won’t be there for long though...

Pairing: AU Lord Voldemort x daughter!reader, Tom Riddle x OC!

*I don’t own any of these characters except the OC, all rights belong to J.K. Rowling and the filmmakers

PROLOGUE

Chapter One

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

Riddle House once stood as the most prestigous mansion in Little Hangleton. Now whimpering on top of the hill, a ghostly shell of itself; it’s derelict and decrepit condition reflected the sinister history encased within the walls. Each room explored was more somber than the last, and emptiness clouded the air so thick it was almost suffocating.

*gif not mine//credit to the owner

The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you traipse down the hallway, your father a few steps ahead.

“And now... we have the kitchen” he announces with a flourish of his arm. Dimly lit by a grubby window, the room, like the rest of the house, left a lot to be desired. Tiles hung from the walls whilst every surface was caked in decades worth of dust. Cobwebs strewn here and there, the sink was more rust than steel and there was a large cavity where the cooker once stood.

“It’s.... interesting” you force out, the weak taste of iron flooding your tastebuds as you bring your teeth down on the flesh of your bottom lip. Taking out his wand Voldemort flicks his wrist and the dingy room quickly transforms itself into a modern kitchen.

“Wow!” you whisper running your fingers along the cool marble.

Turning to face you, his nonexistent lips contort into a terrifyingly sweet crescent. “Luckily I had the foresight to prepare your bedroom before you arrived.”

Trudging back through the hallway, you take time to notice the portraits hanging along the wall, a series of black smudges where the faces once were. Wandering upstairs you spot a door with a wooden rose-embossed sign reading ‘Y/N’s Fortress’.

“Here goes nothing” you sigh.

Entering, a gasp escapes your lips. In the middle of the large room stood a king sized four-poster bed, adorned with a rose quilted headboard and white chiffon curtains. To your left was a beautiful vintage french dressing table complete with matching bedside tables decorated in tiny hand-painted black, red and pink roses. The grand wardrobe standing beside it, decorated in the same tiny roses, could surely house more garments than you even owned. To your right hung a wicker swing seat, pink rose buds woven throughout, appearing as though it was made entirely from the delicate plants, positioned perfectly in view of the large Edwardian window. Hanging above the headboard were pictures of you, your mother and father, clipped evenly along a piece of string intertwined with fairy lights, glistening as each scene plays out before you.

“I mustn’t take any credit, Bellatrix was in charge of the preparations.” Your father states watching you from the doorway.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper, tears welling in your eyes.

Voldemort set about fixing the rest of the house giving you time to settle and take it all in. Lying on the soft mattress, you think back to the first time you met your father, a stark constrast to the man you know today.

Sitting at your desk the blank pages stare back at you and your fingers rake through your messy (H/C) curls for the hundredth time. Front to back the diary was barer than the day it was made.

You had been in the girls bathroom during lunch when you noticed something on the floor. Finding a small black book with leather as soft as feathers and gold lettering along the bottom, you pick it up to inspect it further.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Your eyebrows crease as the name rolls off your tongue, a frown etching it’s way onto your forehead. What would a boys diary be doing in the girls bathroom? Nevertheless you keep the book, and make your way to class, letting it burn a hole through your satchel until the end of the day. Your last class was Potions and with any luck it would go quickly. Settling into your seat, you spin around to the cute blonde haired boy behind you.

“Is there any one at Hogwarts named Tom Riddle?” You ask him, red hot flames licking at your cheeks as his crystal blue eyes meet yours.

“Not that I know of. And I know everyone who is anyone around here” he snorted. Choosing to ignore the radiating arrogance you turn back to the front, mind racing. The diary didn’t belong to a Hogwarts student at all, so how on earth did it end up in our bathroom?

Your leg jerks up and down repeatedly below the desk and your eyes wander back to the clock. 3:43pm. Exactly one minute had passed from the last time you checked. Ahead of you Professor Snape is droning on about a potion you hadn’t yet caught the name of.

“And the 5th step in the brewing of the Wiggenweld Potion is...?” Snape drawls out, his beady eyes searching out his next victim. Chewing on your lip you try to concentrate, to no avail.

“Miss Rosier?” His expectant eyes land on you, lips curling into a signature smirk.

“A-add more salamander blood until the potion turns t-turquoise” you splutter.

“Very good. Someone who has obviously been making notes, wouldn’t you agree Mr Weasley?” The air escapes your lungs with a whoosh as he narrows his eyes at Ron across the room. Ron gulps, ducking his head in an attempt to hide the crimson blush now creeping up his cheeks.

Finally the clock stikes 4 and you make sure you’re the first one out, darting between the students and managing to make it halfway through the dungeons before the bell rings out. “Pureblood” you mutter, the portrait swinging open. “Ooh someone’s in a hurry!” Paying no mind to the painting you dash up the stairs.

“Tracey?”

“Daphne?”

With no answer you plonk down at your desk and begin writing.

“My name is Y/N Rosier, and this is my diary.”

Your (E/C) eyes go round, lids refusing to blink as you watch the words slowly sink into the page. Your small hands vigorously rub at them and yet the page remains just as blank as it had been originally. Your brain scrambles to make some sense of what is happening, but not giving your thoughts a chance to untangle themselves, words begin to materialise across the page.

“Hello Y/N.”

Curiosity trumping any thought of sense, the tip of your quill connects with the aged paper once more. “Who are you?”

“My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.

And I am your father.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. The fluttering birds that previously occupied your ribcage die out as your heart threatens to beat right out of your chest, pumping ice throughout your veins at an ungodly speed. The pounding in your ears nears defeaning as the middle of the book suddenly throws out streaks of blinding light.

Regaining your vision you’re surrounded by stone walls and green glowing lamps. The click-clack of shoes echo through the dungeon as hushed whispers become audible.

“No Tom! I told you- I warned you- I told you something bad would happen- that something so evil would surely have consequences, and you ignored me. And now look! A girl has died Tom!” The young woman vigorously shakes her head, her wild ginger curls bouncing about her face while she scolds the boy.

“Lower your voice before somebody hears you.” He hisses, the pair coming to a halt in front of you. His lips curl into a sneer as his large hand wraps around her dainty wrist. “I am Lord Voldemort after all.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” she seethes. Snatching her wrist from his grasp, her perfectly manicured finger points at his face. “Your name is Thomas Marvolo Riddle and I am not one of your little followers bowing down at your feet and kissing your arse! And most importantly Tom, I am not scared of you!” She storms off and Tom continues hot on her heels as you scurry behind.

“For Merlins sake! Fleur wait-” Blocking her path, Tom’s hands come to rest on the girl’s arms, this time gently caressing her skin. “I’m sorry I should never have spoken to you like that, I don’t want you to be scared of me... I forget myself sometimes. Forgive me?” His hands move to cup her cheeks, and her slender arms wrap loosely around his torso as her anger seemingly dissolves.

“Well don’t forget yourself too much around me otherwise one day you may turn around and I won’t be here Tom.” At least a foot shorter than him, his chin rested comfortably atop her head.

“Don’t worry, Princess, it won’t be long now before I am crowned the greatest sorcerer the world has ever seen.” Her head buried into his chest ignoring the icy tones lacing the boys words.

Your hand shoots to the base of your skull as a dull ache begins to resonate. ‘He needs to work on his landings.’

“Y/N there you are! Where were you? We missed you at supper. And what on earth are you doing on the floor?” Daphne gives you a quizzical look before extending her hand and helping you up.

As you dust off your robes you try to think of a convincing lie. “I wasn’t feeling very well after Potions. I had to run straight to the loo and then came to lie down - I suppose I must have fainted.” With a shrug of your shoulders you begin to change out of your robes, Daphne following suit.

“Lumos.”

With everyone else now asleep you decide to take your chance to figure out just what on earth is going on. The faint glow illuminates the makeshift tent you had created with your bedcovers, an inkpot balanced expertly between your knees and quill secured between your teeth. Opening the diary with your free hand you reposition the wand.

“Are you there?”

Just as before the ink disappears, so sucking in a breath you stare at the page. After a few moments nothing had changed. ‘Of course it’s blank you bloody idiot. I must be going bloody barmy!’

Before you could finish scolding yourself, the words appear across the page.

“Hello again Y/N.”

“What happened earlier?” Not having much time you wanted to get straight to the point.

“No beating around the bush, I like it. Just like your mother.”

“My mother Fleur?”

“Yes, Fleur. She truly was a wonderful witch. Say, do you think you could do me a favour Y/N?”

You weigh up your options before replying. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“I will answer all of your questions, but it must be in person.”

“But how would I? You couldn’t even see me earlier.”

“I will show you how, just go to the girls bathroom on the first floor.”

Under the mask of the invisibility spell you sneak out of the common room, diary clasped tightly under your arm. Moving through the dungeons it doesn’t take you long to reach the first floor bathroom. As you await your instructions you begin to feel a strong magnetic pull towards one of the sinks. Unable to resist you move to stand opposite. Lightly tracing the stone serpent beneath your fingertips, your mouth opens and words of a language unknown to you flow out. Suddenly the marble sink shifts to reveal a vertical tunnel.

“Jump Y/N. Jump!”

Without giving it a second thought you launch yourself down the hole. Your face scrunches up like a ball of paper as you brace yourself for an impact that doesn’t come. Landing on something soft and scaly, you open your eyes.

Below you was the largest snake you had ever laid eyes on, with skin the colour of green ivy and piercing red orbs easily the size of your skull, if not bigger. Bowing down, it repositions your body on its spiky head, and begins speeding through the tunnels. Coming to a stop in front of a large stone monument, the creature bends down and gently slides your slim frame off, and onto the wet floor.

As you stand upright, a silhouette steps out from the cover of the shadows.

"My darling Y/N..."

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Bolting upright, your confused eyes dart around the room. The sky was now jet black and above you the fairy lights were glowing softly in the darkness. Rolling your legs off of the bed you answer the door to find your father standing on the other side, arms tucked neatly behind his back.

“My apologies love, did I wake you?” he asks with a level of affection you hadn’t been expecting.

“Yes but no matter, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the first place” you reassure him, shrugging off the last remnents of sleep.

“Very well. I have some unexpected business to attend to, and as you are still new to this house I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone, so I have arranged for you to stay with a dear friend of mine for the remainder of the summer” he states matter-of-factly, leaving no room for compromise.

“Oh. I hoped I would be staying here for the summer.”

With your (E/C) doe-eyes and lips pouting just enough to be noticeable, you were the image of your mother when she was sulking, and Voldemort found a dull warmth spreading throughout him at the reminder of the distant memory.

“I know Princess I do apologise. I hoped we would have the opportunity to bond during your time away from Hogwarts. However the situation is simply unavoidable.”

“Fine” you sigh in defeat. “So who will I be staying with? Anyone I know?”

“You’ll be staying with the Malfoy’s.”

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straight-into-the-animus · 4 years ago

Text

Truth or Dare (French Fryes)

I’m writing the backlogged stuff but I had a dream about this scenario and had to get it out.

Read it on Ao3!

“Let’s play truth or dare.”

“Are we seven?” Arno asked even as Ezio tugged him over to sit in a circle. Coming to a party when he wanted to sleep for twelve hours after finals already wasn’t on his plans, but Ezio had insisted, and well…

Some people had weak constitutions to Italian friends.

“Seven year olds can’t dare each other to do illegal shit.” Kassandra gleefully declared, and excitement shot through almost everyone at the manner of what they could all get into despite the protests of Altair and Bayek.

“Alright, nothing too illegal. But if you do it… Don’t film and post it.”

This was generally accepted and the game commenced.

It went by quickly, everyone content with trying to outdo the other.

“Alexios has to switch pants with Evie.”

“Malik has to make out with a wall!”

“He already does, his name is Altair-”

Those who chose truth were generally heckled until they chose dare, but at the risk of sharing secrets -- no one wanted to, anyway -- dares were chosen almost always.

“Okay, okay, Jacob,” Ezio eventually called out once people had sufficiently calmed down after seeing Altair drink a mustard-based smoothie, “truth or dare?”

“You know me.” Jacob kicked back, leaning against the foot of the couch. “Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

“There should be an exception against the coupled up, right?” Bayek asked, and Aya quickly hushed him with her interest to see how it would all play out.

Arno sipped his drink, watching eagerly. There was an unnecessary flutter in his heart as he watched Jacob consider, scratching the beginnings of his beard.

“Alexios-”

Oh.

“D’you mind moving so I can get to Arno?”

Oh.

Arno swore it was a miracle he didn’t die from choking on the vodka-cran mix as Jacob scooted past the ‘disgruntled’ Greek until he was a breath away from the Frenchman.

“Did you need me to move as well?” Arno asked, glancing from hazel eyes to lips that curled into the smallest, shiest smirk he’d ever seen.

“Not unless you really want to. I’ve made my choice, though.”

Arno refused -- refused -- to show he was melting in and out, and placed his cup next to him definitely before looking Jacob in the eye.

“Then do it.”

The first press of lips against his was softer than he thought it would be, but he wasn’t complaining at all. His hand went up to tangle in the back of Jacob’s hair as the other planted behind his back for leverage against Jacob’s gradually deepening push. He took the demands happily as they started to come, even as their friends began to talk about how it wasn’t Seven Minutes in Heaven and other people had to go.

“Think we can leave them be for a while?” Jacob pulled back just a bit, cheeks and neck showing their flush, and Arno smiled as he took it in.

“They’ll go on without us.” Arno took Jacob’s hand and they hurried off to find somewhere more secluded.

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

The first date ended up being one of the cheesiest and most classic; dinner and a movie. It had been Jacob’s idea, and he sounded so uncharacteristically nervous and unsure about it on the phone that Arno couldn’t help but grow fonder and accept it.

“Are you still nervous?” Arno asked, and Jacob looked up from across the booth at him.

“I’m not nervous.”

“You tore up your straw paper.” Arno pointedly looked at the flimsy white shreds scattering across the table like snow, and Jacob half-heartedly brushed them away.

“You’re gonna laugh.”

“Try me.” Arno said, fixing his gaze on the other, and Jacob averted meeting his eyes before changing his mind about it.

“I almost cancelled the date.”

“You didn’t want…?”

“It’s not you, I promise. I mean, not that I didn’t want to be on a date with you.” Jacob was quick to clear up. “I just… Didn’t think you wanted to come to a place like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arno gestured around the restaurant slightly. It was a small family affair, had probably been around since after the second world war.

“It’s supposed to mean that a place like this is fine for me. I love coming here. But you’re used to… More.”

“I just wanted to go out with you, Jacob.” Arno reached over and held his hand. “I would’ve been happy with just a walk in the park for the night.”

“That’s a bit of a lie.”

“Maybe. But only cause it’s cold out there.”

Jacob laughed a bit and Arno smiled to hear it. They broke apart as the food and drinks came around for them, but even the emergence of that didn’t seem to completely quell whatever Jacob was feeling; Arno was sure he was even waiting to hear some sort of complaint about the pasta Arno had ordered, as if there was a way to mess it up. Eventually Arno came up with an idea.

“Hey. Truth or dare.”

“Huh?”

“Truth or dare.” Arno waited as Jacob furrowed his brow but answered all the same.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to have a good time and forget about anything except that I’m happy to be with you.”

Jacob’s confusion only grew until he understood, and he smiled; a slow, genuine thing spreading across his face.

“As you say, monsieur.”

And Jacob kept to that dare, never wanting to be shown up ever.

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

It wasn’t their first time, but it had to have been their best. Arno rested his head against Jacob’s shoulder as he came, a choked up sound spilling out from one of them. It went quiet save for their heavy breathing, and Arno hated to break it. Jacob had already come and made a mess of Arno’s front as a result, sticking to him even as Arno pulled out.

“If you’re getting a flannel, mind getting me some water?” Jacob sighed as Arno got off the bed, and Arno shook his head bemusedly.

“Swear I’ve spoiled you rotten.” He called out as he left, but did come back with a cup of water.

“How can I be rotten when I make things so sweet?” Jacob grinned as Arno quickly wiped them both off and discarded the flannel.

“You can carry yourself to the bathroom when you need to piss halfway through the night.” Arno noted before getting under the covers, Jacob quickly placing the cup away before grabbing him and pulling him close to act as the big spoon. A standard position despite the new environment.

“Think we’ve christened the new flat enough?” Jacob asked, kissing behind Arno’s ear, and he hummed in response.

“Perhaps. Wouldn’t be opposed to another round after a break.”

“Sometimes you know exactly what to say.” Jacob smiled, and Arno felt it and returned it, even if he couldn’t see. “Hey… Truth or dare?”

“This again?” Both of them had made it a regular game to play with each other, something to pull out when they wanted. Sometimes it just happened when they couldn’t stand the silence, other times if they wanted to just cause a little trouble. Their friends still thought it was stupid to keep it up after two years, but everytime they tried to voice an opinion both men would just remind them that it had been what brought them together, thank you very much, and it would remain in their lives until it couldn’t anymore.

And they had decided to carry in the tradition even after Arno got his promotion and they decided to take the leap and move in together.

“Truth.”

“You happy?”

“More than anything.” Arno turned in Jacob’s arms and took him in, a hand closing the small distance between them to stroke his skin. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you love me?”

Jacob’s smile could be seen from space as he replied.

“More than anything.”

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

Arno came back only when it became dark enough that the lampposts were nearly unable to light up anything on the sidewalk. He was still tense as he stepped up the stairs with feet that barely wanted to make a sound. Half of him foolishly hoped that Jacob had been so pissed that he’d gone to bed and Arno could simply take the extra blankets from their little closet and spend the night on the couch, but he still saw the glow of yellow light spilling out from the crack under their flat door and heard the television still going. So Jacob was still up.

Arno braced himself, taking a deep breath as he pulled out his key and let himself in. The yellow light cast an uneasy shadow around everything in the flat, Jacob included. He was stretched out on the couch, face impassive as he took in something on the news.

“Took you long enough.” He greeted Arno as the man closed the door firmly behind him.

“If you’re staying on the couch, I’m taking the bed.”

“Oh, there’s the sensible shit coming out.” Jacob said, glancing over at him. “Seems about right.”

“Jacob-”

“Obviously I don’t have it in me, thank fucking God Arno Dorian does-”

“Jacob-”

“How could we ever bloody survive without it?”

“It wasn’t what I meant!” Arno snapped, defense kicking in as it did just a few hours earlier.

“Oh, so saying I would be better off with ‘an ounce of sense’ isn’t what you meant?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Fucking unbelievable.”

“Now you know how I feel with you!” Arno finally unstuck his feet, brain muddled as he kicked off his shoes and stormed off to their bedroom. The bed wasn’t made and it only served to faintly set off the bells in Arno’s mind to get pissed again, but mostly he was trying to mask his hurt that he was going to bed alone.

It was stupid, so stupid, and Arno only wanted to go back in time and hit himself to stop himself from bringing it up.

The door opened after a time Arno couldn’t figure out, but he heard Jacob softly enter and stop a few feet from the bed.

“You asleep?”

“Not at all.” Arno whispered, and after a few seconds of delay Jacob got into the bed as well, slow but deliberate as he came up behind Arno and wrapped an arm around his waist loosely.

“You still upset?”

“Yes. But… I’m sorry I took it out on you. I just saw the mess and got… Pissed.”

Jacob sighed. “I’m sorry I let it get bad. I got back from work and just wanted to sit for a bit.”

“So did I.”

“Your work is what’s fucking killing you. You’ve never done that before.”

“Jacob-” He tensed, but the other man continued, running his fingers through Arno’s hair. It was getting tangled, a result of stressed pulling and forgetting to take care of himself.

“Just answer me this. If you don’t like it -- and I know you don’t, cause I’ve heard you complaining to Elise when you think I’m not listening -- then why are you staying there?”

Arno thought a long time about what he wanted to say.

“What I’m making, you don’t… It’s what you don’t have to worry about. You don’t have to go out and get another job, or get more hours. It gives you something nice if I-”

“You’re telling me you’re working fucking forty-eight hours a week, with extra work at home that you like to do ‘for fun’ off the books, so that you think I’ll stay?”

There was silence, and Jacob tightened his grip around Arno’s waist to pull him back.

“You’re a fucking idiot. I’d rather you be home before dinner and be happy with me than out there and making yourself miserable.”

The tension started to leave Arno’s shoulders as he leaned back into his boyfriend.

“Jacob-”

“We don’t have to talk too much about it yet. Just… please. I mean it.”

Arno went silent again, feeling his mouth begin to twitch and eyes sting with tears. He swallowed and nodded a bit. His hand went down and rested over Jacob’s, intertwining their fingers.

“Jacob.”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or dare.”

It had been a while, and he almost thought Jacob wouldn’t answer, but he did anyway.

“Truth.”

“You still love me?”

Jacob nuzzled Arno’s neck before speaking.

“Never think I’ll stop.”

Arno felt if he tried to laugh in relief it’d turn into a sob, so he just kept quiet and tightened his grip on Jacob.

Things weren’t solved immediately. But for now… They were good. And they were in bed together, just together. That was enough for the night.

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

“You should’ve seen the other guy. He started it.”

“As you say.” Arno shook his head with a smile, fingers intertwined with Jacob’s as they walked together. It had been a few months since their talk, and for the first time in close to a year, Arno felt lighter, like he wasn’t dreading waking up tomorrow.

There had been a long discussion about what they were doing, their feelings about everything, and it boiled down to being able to find a better balance than they originally had. Arno agreed to take fewer hours or at least find a way to condense his workload, and Jacob would work to help out more at his job and around their place. It had taken some time, but they were better now, Arno thought. And there were times now, like with Jacob talking animatedly about how he had narrowly avoided the fistfight that had led to them skipping out the bar and coming to the park instead, that he liked to think Jacob thought so as well.

“It’s getting warmer.” Arno spoke genially as they continued to walk, after Jacob had stopped his tale of glory, and Jacob made a noise of vague agreement.

“‘Bout time. Way too cold even for winter.”

“You like winter.”

“I like some parts of winter. Like the holidays and all that. But even I get to a point where it overstays its welcome. Besides, you got all the flowers out blooming.” Jacob pointed over where some newly planted tulips were beginning to sprout.

Arno felt his heart speed up for an unknown reason. Whether it was in the way Jacob admired a few flowers, or in how his hand tightened around Arno’s as he began to talk about all his plans for summer -- their plans for summer --, or the way the box in his coat pocket began to feel ever heavier than usual, that it left Arno’s mouth before he could stop.

“Truth or dare.”

“Seriously? Here?”

“It’s a real question.”

“Y’know what? I haven’t done dare in a while. Let’s go with that.”

Arno stopped them both and took a breath, hand slowly sliding into his coat and pulling the velvet box out. A million thoughts ran through his head as he shakily kneeled down, but looking up into Jacob’s wide eyes silenced them all until he spoke again.

“Marry me.”

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

The wedding ended up a lovely summer affair. Elise was only a bit upset that she couldn’t be Arno’s best woman in the way Evie was for Jacob, though Ezio ended up being pretty good about it and had people both laughing and sniffing by the end of his speech.

And all because of some stupid game, Ezio had been sure to mention at some point, and Arno and Jacob just shared some sort of smile at it.

And now here they were.

Arno woke up on top of Jacob, sprawled out in the huge hotel bed. The other was beginning to wake up as well, and they both smiled as their eyes met.

“Good morning, Mr. Dorian-Frye.”

“Good morning indeed.” Jacob rolled them over and Arno’s small yelp of protest at the action was silenced as Jacob began to kiss him in earnest, still smiling into it. They pulled apart eventually and Arno laughed.

“Not even letting me brush my teeth.”

“That doesn’t exactly matter right now.” Jacob tried to mouth lower at Arno’s neck, and Arno let him for a while before squirming.

“Call for the food first. Then you can continue making a mess of me.” Jacob pouted, and Arno smirked. “It’s not that bad. We do have all week, you know. Can’t spend all of it in a hotel room.”

“Just watch me.” Jacob challenged, but let Arno up anyway to stretch and get out of the bed and pull on loose sweat pants to cover himself up. Jacob had less grace and got out to simply pull on some boxers before calling it a day and going over to the Frenchman. He hugged him from behind, and Arno blushed, a smile still present on his face that threatened to stay there forever.

“Hey, Arno.”

“I’ll take waffles with fruit and cream, thanks.”

Jacob laughed, letting it take over before he calmed down enough to speak again.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“You ever been happier?”

“Never.”

----------

I hope you enjoy! If you do I have a Masterpost here and more ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request! If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here! Safety and peace!

#assassin's creed #arno dorian #jacob frye #arno x jacob #french fryes #my writings

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lunaraen · 4 years ago

Text

A Jesse Surprise

Written for Spirit, who requested Aiden/Jesse/Lukas, as part of the 2020 mcsm discord secret santa

Some uncharitable mornings, when Aiden is deep within the warm and dark embrace of slumber, he thinks he preferred the early dawn stirrings in New Sky City (he also personally prefers its unofficial name, Ground City, but it’s not like he’s winning these battles).

Even though sleeping on his cot, and then later his bed, was like sleeping on gravel, even though the guards who woke him had no interest in letting him have a smidgen of comfort they could steal and were themselves likely culprits who chucked bricks through the windows of the Blaze Rods’ shack of a home, even though his waking mind and the crash of reality remind him of how grateful and lucky he is to have the love and comfort he does now, the security and safety he could never count on in a city full of people he’d almost killed.

After all, back there and back then, he didn’t have Jesse and Lukas coaxing him out of sleep, sweetly and gently tearing him from that slumber, with sweet kisses and soft prodding.

He loves them with all his heart, but he’s not a morning person and they make it hard to scurry back into the cover of unconsciousness the way he wants to.

(Living in the Order’s temple has its ups and downs, even if it’s mostly ups with few downs.

Sappy wakeup calls on his days off fit into both categories.)

So, eloquently, he tells them exactly what he thinks about their loving plotting.

“Mmf. Stoppit.”

And alright, maybe it’s halfway muffled by the pillow his cheek is currently smushed against, but it’s not a whine.

“Ooh, somebody’s grumpy.” And he can hear Jesse’s grin, feels it a second later when they kiss his not-smushed-into-a-pillow cheek while Lukas nudges at Aiden’s ribs again with his cold fingers. Jesse’s eyelashes flutter against his skin. “I thought you didn’t want to sleep until noon again.”

Winter days may be shorter and generally darker, thick cloud cover and snow more often than not working as a dense curtain to block out the sun, but there’s no way it’s noon.

A little past nine, maybe. Ten, tops.

“Changed- grhg, changed my mind.” His groggy, groggy mind, which is more than happy to latch onto the luxury of sleeping in as much as he wants on days like today, days when he isn’t working and gets to stay snuggled up inside as much as he wants. His prodded body, crying out for mercy, has other ideas, and Aiden slaps at Lukas’s wrist, only halfway missing as he bats Lukas’s hand away and twists himself upright. “Ghk- Lukas, if you poke me one more time, so help me-!”

(He’s generally much better with his temper now than he used to be, taking a number of cues from Lukas, but sleepy-Aiden still needs to work on it.)

“Oh, good, you’re up!” The dual smirks he’s getting are utterly shameless, and Aiden groans as he slumps against the headboard, bitter taste of defeat impossible to ignore.

How do they manage it?

He’s not sure, but they always do.

(Maybe he should’ve just crashed with Maya and Gill at their place.)

“Yeah, yeah- alright, I’m up, I’m up.” Despite himself, Aiden can’t hold back the beginnings of a toothy and tilted smile. “What is it?”

“Jesse’s got something to show us.”

Aiden snorts, elbowing Lukas’s side as he slips out of bed onto the regrettably chilly floor.

“Like you don’t already know what it is.”

“He doesn’t! I made sure of that- it wasn’t hard, when I just had to get him focused on messing with you.” Jesse, still sitting on the bed, kisses Lukas on the cheek and smiles so sweetly, like honey in tea and a field of flowers on a sunny day and the inviting glitter of an enormous rainbow, and Aiden’s grumpy heart melts just a bit more.

Oh, they’re not innocent- far from it.

Jesse’s crafty and sneaky and absolutely pleased with themselves for how snugly they’ve got Aiden wrapped around their finger, but it’s always hard to stay mad at Jesse even when he knows all of that so well.

“Thanks for that, by the way.” Aiden saves his toes from the frigid floor, putting on his slippers as he brushes his bedhead back with still-sleepy fingers. “You know, there have got to be better ways to wake somebody up- shove some snow down my back next time, maybe, or just get me with a bucket of water.”

“Aw, but then I don’t get to let you know how much I love you!” Jesse’s tone is outright teasing before it drops into something more mischievous, practically cheeky. “And besides, we already know you’re a total sap.”

“I am not-”

“Aiden, I’ve known you for just about forever.” Lukas plays with the silver comb from Aiden’s nightstand, touching up his already-perfect hair as he gives Aiden a far too knowing look and wry smile. The wind continues its steady beat against the window as flurries flutter past. “I’ve seen you at your best and at your worst. Yeah, you totally are.”

That’s a bit of an understatement, all things considered- Aiden’s willing to make the argument that Jesse and Lukas bring out the best in him, and his worst was pretty bad, given that in involved chucking them into the void.

They’re willing to make the argument that Aiden, far more humble and reasonable as well as just smarter now than he was back then, is even more of a sap than words can say.

“And you’re totally letting me fix my hair before you drag me to gods know where.” Aiden’s not giving up on the tatters of his thrashed dignity, though, and he’s not admitting it any time soon. He snatches the comb out of Lukas’s fingers, already aware that there’s no way they’re going to wait and let him gel his hair the way he likes to after already waiting for him to wake up and then deciding to do the job themselves.

Is he bitter Lukas has clearly had the time to go through his own hair care routine? Maybe, but it’s Aiden’s own fault for sleeping in.

(He’s grouchy and anything but happy to greet the morning, but he can recognize that.)

“Nope!”

“Yeah, definitely not happening.”

“I love you.” Aiden tosses the comb back onto the nightstand as he yanks his jacket off the bedpost he last threw it onto, rolling his eyes as he shoves his arms through and shrugs it up on his shoulders. His cozy sleepwear doesn’t quite match with his jacket the way his usual outfits do, but it’ll work for a Jesse-trip. “So much.”

“We know!”

“Cool.” His fingers are clumsy, from sleep and cold alike, as he attempts to yank up the zipper before deciding to forgo it altogether. He doesn’t need to hide his nightshirt. They’ve seen him in far worse conditions, far crueler and horrendous states, than in his sleepwear. “Can’t wait to bump into somebody in the hall and have an awkward conversation about how I look like I just rolled out of bed.”

(They’d be right.)

Lukas laughs, light and loud, and it captures Aiden��s attention instantly, enthralling as ever.

(What’d Petra say- stupid, perfect Lukas? Fitting.)

“Trust me, we’ve all seen worse- everybody’s bumped into Ivor in the middle of the night.” Aiden winces. The less said about his sleepwear and how it ‘breathes wonderfully’, the better.

Half the time, Ivor’s wearing his robes during those chance encounters.

The other half of the time, not so much.

“Yeah, okay, fair enough.” He adjusts his jacket, and not for the first time since moving in wishes it had a hood he could flip up to hide his not-yet-right hair. “Is it in the backyard, or are we going further than that? Because if I need to get my boots, they should just be by the door.”

His coat should too, and it would be plenty warmer than his jacket.

“If Petra hasn’t stolen them.” Aiden has, rather unfortunately, ended up on the wrong side of the latest prank war, something Jesse’s endlessly amused by. They’re kind enough to help him out when he begs- if Petra has taken his boots, he’ll just beg Jesse to have a talk with Petra about forgetting the chorus fruit incident.

“Oh, she definitely did.” Lukas waves off his look of alarm. “You’re good- apparently Jesse’s surprise isn’t even outside.”

Better Petra than Axel, anyway, and if she didn’t, he would’ve.

“I can try something snow-related next time.” Jesse’s eyes just about sparkle as they toy with one of Aiden’s errant bangs, calloused fingers brushing against his skin as their other hand cups his cheek. “Remember that deal I struck? For that room in the basement?”

“Barely.” He leans into Jesse’s touch before leaning back, not deterring Jesse or their mischief in the slightest. His bangs don’t usually get the chance to be in the way like this, rather than neatly slicked back, and Jesse’s milking it for all its worth. “It wasn’t like you let us know a whole lot about it, other than that Cassie’s good at negotiating.”

Cassie Rose, a different sort of enemy Jesse and the others have helped and taken in even when most people would never consider it, spends much of her time in the sprawling and labyrinthine basement.

“Shrewd. I believe I said shrewd.” Jesse gives the bang one last flick before their expression softens. Aiden doesn’t know exactly what they traded or had to promise Cassie, but Jesse’s more than decent at negotiating themselves. “But yeah, she’s pretty good. Anyway, she’s been letting me mess around in that part of her domain, and that’s what I want to show you guys. After you have some breakfast, of course- Axel made the best pancakes.”

Axel makes good breakfasts the way Jesse worries about everyone not eating enough- as surely as the sun sets and rises.

“Jesse, it can wait.” Aiden holds up his hands, palms facing outward and fingers slightly curled, when Jesse narrows their eyes. “I promise I’ll have a good breakfast and enjoy those pancakes after you show us what you’ve been up to.”

That placates them, Jesse beaming as they grab his hand.

If Aiden remembers correctly, Cassie’s not the only one Jesse’s been working with on this, terrifying a thought as that already is.

He’s pretty sure their alchemist got roped into things.

It’s an interesting thought, if not a necessarily pleasant one, to be entertained by as they make their way through the temple, weaving through hallways and past busy rooms to the basement stairs.

Cassie and Ivor may be the ones directly involved, but the knowing looks and waves they get suggest that Lukas and Aiden are the only ones in the dark.

Harper’s grin at her workshop table is as impish as it is (probably) accidentally intimidating, thanks to the dark and glinting lenses of her goggles hiding her eyes entirely while reflecting sparks from the iron she’s cutting into.

Aiden’s always been a sucker for mysteries.

It’s not until they start descending, shoes and slippers silent against carpet before clacking against cold stone as the stairway becomes less and less like the hallways they were just in, that he nudges Lukas, slipping his free hand into Lukas’s to hold it loosely.

“So, what can we expect from Ivor and Cassie that’s not an inventive death trap?”

Lukas chuckles, lightly pressing his shoulder against Aiden’s own.

“Ivor’s not that bad.” Not to Lukas, maybe, but Aiden got a number of intimidating talks from the other Order members when he first moved back to this world. Ivor’s was the most… creative. “And Jesse’s involved too- it could be anything.”

They take a turn, moving away from the more used areas of the basement to the series of corridors and rooms Cassie’s claimed as her own.

“Pet witherstorms?” A year ago, when they were figuring this and so many other things out, Aiden wouldn’t even think of joking about the behemoth that hurt them and their world in so many ways, his spiraling scars aching even now under his jacket at the mention and Jesse’s less physical scars making it so that thunderstorms more often than not lead to panic attacks. They’ve healed in a lot of ways, though, all of them, and monsters of the past are more and more easily used for lighthearted jokes.

He himself is something of a monster of the past, and they’ve done an incredible job of letting him back into their lives and then some.

“Enchanted endermites.”

Another turn, this time to the right, the yellow-orange glow of regular torches switched with the gentler light of redstone ones.

“Talking cats.”

The back-and-forth reminds him of guessing games he and Lukas would play to pass the time, before, ages ago, back when it was easy to be bored and when having the most outlandish guess was as good as anything else.

“A tap-dancing-”

“Alright, alright, you can stop guessing.” Jesse pauses at a dark oak door, fingers resting on a handle that’s a lighter color than any of the ones they’ve already passed, and gives them a look that’s trying very hard to be exasperated and failing. Jesse loves with all their heart; it’s hard for them to not look adoring. “If you want to just go in and find out for yourselves, that is.”

First, he asks the question that’s been on his mind since they brought up the surprise.

“What’s the occasion?”

Aiden’s been keeping a close eye on every important event and celebration he can think of; all he knows about today is that it’s supposed to be an average Saturday.

“I just wanted to surprise you guys.” The door creaks as Jesse nudges it open, just as likely in genuine need of oiling as it is intended to make sounds for dramatic effect (Cassie has a penchant for the theatrical), and Jesse’s given up on hiding that small smile when they look back to him and Lukas. “With something we didn’t have to leave the temple for, or risk our lives over- we have plenty of adventures and things to do normally. This is just… something for us.”

Inside the room, likewise dimly lit with redstone torches, three plants Aiden has never seen before are growing from decent sized pots up and along the dark walls towards the even darker ceiling. They’re almost vine-like, with ruffled leaves that actually glow along the edges and symbols along the dark stems that look natural to the plant rather than carved or printed- looking again, Aiden can see that the symbols glow too, different colors.

Symbols that are more than interesting lines and curves, actual letters tilted this way and that as they spell out each of their names.

The one that reads Jesse has a red sword symbol at the base of its stem, while Lukas’s has a teal book and quill.

It takes him a third look to make sense of the image on the one spelling his name.

Instead of a book and quill, it’s a green book and sword, with the book placed over the sword- even if Aiden wasn’t a writer, he thinks he’d see the meaning pretty clearly, the focus on peace and positive changes.

He’s long since given up waving swords around recklessly, though he trains with Jesse and Lukas. He’s capable, but it’s not his first instinct when his temper flares anymore.

Aiden glances at Jesse, whose smile has somehow gotten even softer.

He’s a sap and he’s not crying about it.

(A quick glance at Lukas proves he’s in a similar boat, eyes shining with unshed tears and his hand over his mouth as he crouches in front of the plant spelling his name out in blue and purple characters.

If Jesse can give a bad gift, Aiden has yet to see it.

Lukas is more used to seeing the odd assortment of plants in Ivor’s lab than Aiden is, on account of having been there more, and even then he doesn’t seem any less surprised than Aiden feels.

Jesse’s ideas are often like that, born from looking at the same thing in a slightly different way.)

He clears his throat and brushes away the welling tears that aren’t there.

“Jesse, this is amazing.” Despite having cleared his throat, his voice wobbles just a bit, and Jesse open arms are too inviting to ignore. Even with as silly as he probably sounds and looks right now, their gaze stays warm. Aiden hugs them, tight grip only relaxing briefly when Lukas joins the hug in order to wrap an arm around him too. “Thanks. Looks like we’ll just have to find our own ways to surprise you.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.” Jesse squeezes them, feeling every bit the strong hero that they are, and gives a contented hum. “Just being able to do these things with you is more than enough.”

“I don’t think we could ever give you enough, Jesse.” Lukas presses a kiss into Jesse’s hair before doing the same to Aiden, his voice doing a slightly better job of staying strong despite the tear tracks shining on his cheeks. Aiden gives him a kiss in return, the quick peck on the lips making Lukas’s smile widen.

A fourth voice, one that perhaps shouldn’t be so unexpected, interrupts before they can get too cuddly.

“If you’re going to be sappy, take it anywhere upstairs.”

Cassie Rose leans against the doorway, her partner in crime meowing from where he winds between her legs, purring as he rubs against her pants.

Though not quite the senseless killer she once was, she’s certainly an efficient mood killer.

Winslow, not so much, even if there’s a playful glint of his own in his eyes.

The hug breaks, though no more than necessary, the three of them still standing close together even as Aiden shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks, we’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’ve got a strict no-PDA policy.” She smirks, gaze shifting to Jesse as she points a thumb towards the nearest plant- Lukas’s. “Remember, the deal’s off once you take these upstairs and do whatever you’re going to do with them.”

“Got it.” Jesse’s thumbs-up placates Cassie enough to get a short hum out of her, and their smile stays bright as they turn their attention back to Aiden and Lukas. “Ivor said they should be fine as long as they’re kept out of direct sunlight. Even then, they’ll be alright for a while, but you won’t be able to see the glow very well.”

While Jesse explains and they nod, Aiden keeps an eye on Cassie out of the corner of his eye.

In spite of that close watch, even though he glances away for barely a moment, as soon as he opens his mouth to thank her, he finds she’s already vanished, her feline friend likewise missing.

Huh.

Oh well.

He’ll thank her and Ivor for their part in this later.

“Well, if we’re taking things back upstairs anyway, I guess we could head back to your room and cuddle properly.” It wouldn’t be hard for Lukas’s voice to be mocking, but it does a good job of riding the line between joking and being genuine, and it oozes affection regardless as he wraps an arm around Aiden’s shoulders. Aiden takes a second to appreciate how lucky he is to be here, to be with them, while his heart soars. “You know, let you get some more sleep.”

“Maybe do breakfast in bed.” Jesse’s voice is just as affectionate, and the idea of getting something to eat as well as some more rest doesn’t sound half bad.

Of course…

Aiden lets his head rest against Lukas’s shoulder, huff somewhere between a fresh groan of defeat and a laugh.

“Could’ve started with that.”

Jesse, in flagrant violation of Cassie’s policy, squeezes his side and kisses his nose, startling a lopsided smile out of Aiden.

“Less exciting that way.”

If there’s something he can count on here, with them, it’s always excitement, one way or another.

#My Stuff #fanfiction #mcsm #Minecraft Story Mode #Poly

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lokiwritess · 5 years ago

Text

Restless - Sergeant Hunter

I learned the spelling of sergeant halfway through this and that is all I have to say. Ps. We all know Hunter is secretly a softie who loves his brothers

The light rap of knuckles on durasteel was the first thing to pull you out of your trance in hours, maybe even a day. Nothing had managed to break your concentration: Not hunger, not thirst, not even the raging headache in your temples.

Exhaustion had you almost slipping away a few times, but you clung on to your last bits of energy like a drowning man would cling to a bottle of water.

Your hair was probably a mess, eyes half-closed, with the dark circles to prove the time you'd spent staring at the datapad in your lap. What had started from interest had turned into desperation quickly, leaving nothing but frustration in its wake.

If you didn't decrypt those files you would have failed another one of your friends.

"How's it going? Made any progress?", Hunter questioned.

The long-haired sergeant leaned against the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes scanned the room in a fluid motion, settling on your figure.

"I got nothing.", you muttered in defeat. "Kix must've known that whoever was after him would try to find these files as well. I mean- how the hell am I supposed to open files protected against way smarter people?”

"He sent them to you. I doubt that he just chose a random person, that means that you know how to decrypt them. Just don’t know it yet."

"I just can't figure it out. I'm failing miserably. I need more time. What if I can't figure it out until it's too late?"

Hunter huffed, his soft footsteps echoing on the floor as he moved closer. He stopped right next to you, crouching down to be on the same level as you. But instead of trying to look at him, your gaze was fixed on the datapad once again, and on the transmission, you’d received while eating with the group.

This time, what broke your concentration was that Hunter just snatched the pad from your hands and turned it off.

“What are you doing?”, you questioned in shock, trying to reach for it.

But the Sergeant held it out of reach from you, laying it down on top of a monitor.

“You’ve been doing this for hours. Right now, you don’t need more time, you need food and rest.”

The ship was quiet, the only thing that you could hear the steady humming of the engines that kept the ship in its position. Too quiet, for the usually chaotic ship. There was no bickering, no arguments, no bets being made.

“Everyone already went to sleep, didn’t they?”

“They did, about eight hours ago. We let you be then but this isn’t healthy anymore.”

You couldn't help but protest as he grabbed your waist and made you stand on your feet. Wobbly feet, as you noticed. Did you sit on the floor in the command center for almost a day? How had you not noticed the way your muscles ached?

"Alright, let's go before you fall asleep on your feet."

"I really have to keep working on this. I’ll promise I’ll eat, but-”

"Tech will look into it while you do your part in being a functional member of the team. And that for you means eating and sleeping right now.", he cut you off.

"Did you just call any of us functional?"

He made a low sound that you had learned to identify as his way to express amusement. But he didn't stop moving, his hand on the small of your back gently maneuvering your tired body in the right direction.

"Stop protesting. Food first or sleep?"

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness, while a yawn decided for you. "Sleep."

He hummed in agreement, reacting by laying his other hand on the crook of your arm and saving you from stumbling straight into a storage crate.

Touch was still something rare coming from Hunter, as you had come to realize in your time with the Bad Batch. Even though the limits of the team’s mutations and abilities were often unknown to you, it felt good to know that Hunter had gotten used to your presence so much that he didn't get overwhelmed as easily anymore.

His oversensitivity had reacted a lot to you in the beginning, rooted in your often subconscious use of the force, but now - with you in a resting state, with no one else around - he was fine. And your exhausted body relished in the warmth of the clone in his blacks.

You barely noticed Crosshair walking past you, the force signature of the sniper faintly floating by in a moment's notice. You had successfully relied on Hunter to not make you run into walls, half asleep already. Your mind had retreated into itself. It was just you, the quiet, and Hunter's presence. Exactly how you liked it.

Your senses only re-activated as you took a less familiar path.

"Why are we going to your room?"

Hunter's room was at the end of the corridor, as far away from the electricity and signals in the cockpit and command center as possible. Your’s was down the hall to the right. As one of the last people to join the crew of the Havoc Marauder you shared the last room - which also happened to be the smallest - with Echo.

The first couple of weeks you'd slept on the floor, just waiting for his nightmares to end what little sleep you’d had. And then the Bad Batch had started accepting you more and one-day Tech got so tired of hearing your shoulder crack every morning that they installed a make-shift second cot.

It took you a second to realize.

"Wait- Is Echo okay?" The words were slurred by your drowsiness. Before you, the door to Hunter's room swished open and he nudged you to move in. But a sense of panic had already settled in your bones.

Echo had been your friend long before he supposedly died. Long before things spiraled out of control, before you’d left the order and your friends. Before you lost so many people it would take you a while to count.

"He had a bad night. Wrecker is keeping him company to get him back to sleep."

"I should-" But as you turned around you simply walked straight into Hunter's chest.

"Absolutely not. You need to rest. And Echo is just as worried about your friend as you are. The last thing that's going to help him right now is your presence.", he bluntly stated.

Yep, that was Hunter. A bit rough around the edges, but always the best interest of the team in mind.

"You can get together and talk once you're both in a better state." With that, he turned you around by your shoulders and guided you the rest of the way to his bed.

You'd never been in his room. Always just stood inside the doorway in case you needed something or one of the others asked for him. It felt weirdly intimate.

A common theme within the members of the Bad Batch. It’d always just been the four of them, so they had the luxury of having solitary rooms, no matter how small they were. They served their function as a time-out zone, a safe space for different reasons, that you had learned in your time with them.

Their rooms were tailored to their specific needs. In Tech’s case that meant he stored all of his devices there, safe from his brother’s who were absolutely not allowed to touch any of them.

For Wrecker, it was the size. With a special cot and the biggest room available, he could drop the caution that he might break something his brother’s treasured.

You’d yet to look at Crosshair’s room, that’s how secretive he was about it.

Hunter was a stark contrast to Tech in regards to his room. He’d downsized everything in there to things he really needed, nothing that served no purpose. Where Tech had a clutter of all kinds of things, Hunter kept his knives organized and he never brought things in there that could trigger his enhanced senses.

Bringing you in there seemed like a clear violation of that rule.

You were fascinated by their rooms because they were so personal.

In your time with the Jedi, you’d always been forbidden from even feeling attached to a specific room. And when you joined the 501st things had been vastly different as well.

Echo’s and your room was a stark contrast to the rest of the team members because of that specific reason. You were used to the loud barracks, not the isolation of the Havoc Marauder.

On good days your shared room felt like the old days in the 501st barracks on some risky mission to a weird place. Like you were taking a break from the business of war, filled with Fives’ jokes and Jesse’s laughter. Like home.

On the bad days, it felt like explosions at the Citadel. Or like the echo of blasters firing on Umbara. It felt like hopelessness and sadness caused by the loss of many friends. Like a deep abyss of loneliness that would drown anyone that dare enter in the waves of past trauma.

You barely registered hitting the mattress. You adjusted on autopilot, gravitating closer to the wall behind your back as your head found the pillow.

"You're spacing out on me again.", Hunter remarked.

"Bad habit."

He sat on the side of the bed, pulling the covers over you. Once you were warm and cozy, he turned to stand up but he hesitated. Hunter could feel your guilt. That was one of the feelings you carried around with you day to day, since the day he’d met you.

It ate away at you even when you were in a good mood, and that bothered him. Especially since that transmission came in and amplified your guilt thousandfold.

"You do know that it’s not your fault that your friend was taken, right?”

You pressed your lips together tightly, avoiding eye contact, instead choosing to focus your attention on your hand. He was wrong.

“I left them.” The words felt like lead on your tongue, hurting you as you tried to get them out.

“You didn’t.”, Hunter disagreed. “You left the Jedi, but not them. You wouldn’t have been there at the smallest sign that Echo was alive if you had.”

You looked up at the clone with mixed feelings. Maybe there was some truth to that. Even after you finally broke and left the order, you’d been there when Tup and Fives died. And you’d been there when Rex had the suspicion that Echo was still alive, dropping everything in a moments notice.

Hell, the only reason you’d had for going with the Bad Batch had been that Rex asked you to look out for Echo and help him adjust.

“Maybe you’re right.”, you shrugged numbly. “I guess I just… feel like I keep failing to keep the people I care about alive. I can't save Kix. And I couldn't save Fives nor could I help any of the others… but if I figure out what Kix was onto, I might be able to help Echo and Rex and Jesse and maybe even you."

To your surprise, Hunter grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly.

"I know that you want to protect them. But you can't do it at the cost of working yourself to death. You're part of the Bad Batch now. You don't have to do this alone, alright?"

You nodded slowly.

“Good. Now get some rest.”

And with that, the handsome Sergeant stood up from his bed and left you to be consumed by your exhaustion, in a room that felt so distinctively like him that you finally managed to relax.

#star wars imagines #star wars reader #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #clone wars #the bad batch #bad batch #clone wars imagines #clone wars x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter x reader #louistrying

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