#teaching is actually so Exhausting sometimes i need to come home and just stare at the wall and i would like for my blog to not be dead <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honeyabyss · 3 years

Text

Different ways to say I Love You (minus Luke)

Lucifer:

Lucifer isn't the best at saying what he actually feels due to his pride getting in the way, but he makes it up with small gestures

he is very observant and often knows what you need before you know it

putting on the fireplace in his study when he notices you start to rub your hands or shift your legs to warm them subconsciously

refilling your cup/glass while he pours something himself

"You should have dressed better, I can see you're shivering..."

his snarky side comments might sound like he's annoyed, but he actually cares and worries

he will most definitely put his cloak around your shoulders and keep you close to him with a hand on your waist

he's conflicted between staying subtle and showing you off all the time

"Aren't they looking amazing today? Haven't you stared enough yet? You're making them uncomfortable!"

when you're in private he becomes more open and affectionate, but still tries to play it down

him moving with his work away from his work desk to the small coffee table, sitting side by side with you, just to have you close

when he's feeling stressed he tends to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeking the comfort and familiarity of you

Lucifer tries to give you the same he feels when he is with you comfort, peace, a place to hide from the rest of the world

"You are my save haven! I don't always have to be at my best when I'm with you!"

Mammon:

"Hey! Look what I've brought you home. Ain't I the best?!"

small gifts are a regular occurrence with the Avatar of Greed, which don't always have to be the most expensive, extraordinary or thoughtful ones

"I was on the way home when I saw this and thought of you...you needed this right?"

it could have been the most ridiculous thing like a single paperclip, but he'd be so proud to have noticed and remembered you were having troubles organizing your papers yesterday

him being a tsundere makes it hard for him to openly admit or show his love for you sometimes, his thoughts are full of you and he is constantly complementing you and how much he wants to hold you in his arms or kiss...but actually vocalizing or holding and kissing you seems to be way harder

though that doesn't hold him off to keep you close and hold hands in front of others, you're his human and everyone shall know, you're his and his alone, they'd be mad to try and steal you away

as his sin is Greed, hoarding stuff happens often, most of the times he sells them to be able to get money, but every single thing you'll give him will hold a special meaning in his heart, will show off your gifts to brag

but material love isn't the only thing he can give, he'll also gladly give you all his time

he'll randomly invite you to go take a drive with him, just get in the car and go, no set destination, just Mammon and you away from his brothers and all the others

when you're alone he'd still be nervous, but cuddling will happen a lot, though he is always blushing a bright red

"If I could choose to have one treasure in my whole life, I'd choose to only treasure you!"

Leviathan:

being the Avatar of Envy, he is quick to loose his temper when you're talking or even dare touch other people, he'd be rather alone with you, but that doesn't always work, so being open and mindful about his sin is a must

"Soo what did you two talk about? Not that I mind...but you can also talk about everything with me, you know that right?"

he knows that his social skills aren't the best and that he doesn't know about to many normie topics, but he'll try his best to listen to you and come up with responses and ways to keep the conversation going

he wants to make sure you know he loves you so badly, but all he knows about love is from animes or games, so he often tries to recreate romantic scenes only to get thoroughly embarrassed

"d-d-don't laugh! This i-i supposed to be ro-romantic...."

he tries to keep you close to him as much as he can when you're outside

he knows how anxiety inducing it can be for him, when someone suddenly touches him, so he always asks you first, as embarrassing it is to ask you to hold hands or kiss, he feels better knowing you want this too

when he is playing his games, he dislikes it when you disappear out of his vision, wanting to make sure you're still there and letting you know he hasn't forgotten about you even though he is currently concentration on his gaming, he'll keep you in his lap with a furious blush on his cheeks and he might see the game over screen more often but it's definitely worth it

"You make me overcome my weaknesses, just give me time and I'll make you happy!

Satan:

"The weather is nice...do you want to take a walk with me?"

Satan enjoys spending his time with you in any way possible, a simple walk, reading sessions, visiting your favourite places, discovering new cafés, exploring galleries and museums, as long as you're around he is open to try anything

lazing around in his room cuddled up next to you with a good book will stays his favourite though, he has you for himself and it feels reassuring to know you stay with him even on the normal and eventless days

Satan isn't too handsy, but he does keep your hand in his wherever the two of you are, even if you only making your way to the kitchen, he is not exactly jealous just happy to call you his and show it

the subtle intimacy of handholding speaks volumes to him, to others it may seem like the most ordinary couple thing, but he likes to experiment and if his stupid idea of only holding 2 fingers makes you laugh then it was a full success to him

no matter how much control over his sin he has sometimes he breaks too, after getting out all his anger, he tends to be exhausted and feels vulnerable, he'll just sit down with your hands intertwined and his head resting on your shoulder, seeking comfort and affection

"Have you smiled yet? I smile every time I think of you!"

Satan will leave small notes to make your day or send you messages on your DDD when he can't be around you

"Did I ever tell you that you feel like home to me? I hope I can be your home as well!"

Asmodeus:

so many praises and compliments, like you can just sit there looking at your phone and Asmo just coos

"You look sooo pretty!~ let's take a picture together to remember this moment!"

he will take a lot of pictures of you and him, just to look at for himself when he misses you, to show off to his brothers and Solomon, or to the whole Devildom through posting it on Devilgram

he simply enjoys to look at you, though it always ends in a warm hug , kisses and praises

he may not be very poetic or thoughtful with his touches, but he always gives it his all, some feelings he just can't describe in words so he just holds you close to show you his feelings

spa days, shopping tours and going into the club happen often, though he understands if you're not up to it some times, but he will whine and demand to spend you day differently with him

he can't help it he wants to spoil you and show you off, he's is almost never jealous, rather proud even when someone flirts with you, that doesn't mean he'll give you away

"Come here, let me just hold you. You fit perfectly into my arms..."

as the Avatar of Lust, physical touch means a lot to him, not only in the sexual way, but most in importantly in the way of craving affection, he wants to be hold and to hold you, give him all your attention and he'll be happy

"Thank you for staying and accepting me!"

Beelzebub:

sleepily walking through the hallways into the kitchen to keep Beel company while he has his midnight snack and just sitting next to him talking about your day

"Thank you for staying awake with me, do you want me to get you food as well?"

with Gluttony as his sin, food is big part of his daily life, but he doesn't just eat to satisfy his hunger, but also because he enjoys the food, no matter how hungry he is, he'll offer you even the last piece to make you happy

sharing new food and old favourites of his alike, Beel likes to share his food with you, as he feels less hungry in your company anyway

seeing you happy and full makes him happy and full as well, so he puts you first most of the times, letting you choose what you want and going along with your preferences

"Anything is fine with me, you can choose for us."

Beel is also very active, playing Fangol, training and etc, he often invites you to train with him or tries to teach you new stuff, if you don't want too that's fine as well, you can watch and he may try to impress you a little bit, but he won't train much when you're around wanting to rather spend time with you

bear hugs. just you walking basically anywhere and Beel suddenly hugs you tight against his chest, nuzzling your face and having a huge grin plastered on his face

his affectionate hugs and kisses come out of nothing, surprising but welcome, some times he forgets his strength and you'll have to remind him, he'll hold you very carefully then asking if this okay

"I feel complete with you, so just stay by my side!"

Belphegor:

"Lay down with me, I nap better with you at my side!"

obviously nap time with lots of cuddling, he just drapes himself over you, holding you close and sharing his warmth with you...if you're lucky you'll even get a small goodnight kiss, but only if he's in the mood

Belphie is a bit too straightforward with his words and sometimes ends up being a bit mean when he doesn't really want to, so in crucial moments with you he tends to become quiet and seek out to hold and hopefully show you his feelings

Belphie isn't handsy but he loves to cuddle, he may not always hold your hand when taking a walk but as soon as you two sit down he'll hug you close without saying a word

when he finds you sleeping somewhere without him, he is a bit hurt at first but he recovers quick, he'll make sure you're resting comfortably, the pillow is soft enough and that the blanket keeps you warm, even going to the length to bring you his own blanket if fell asleep anywhere but you're room, without a doubt he'll feel tired after taking care of you and will fall asleep right next to you

"Sleeping without me...unbelievable...I'll just have to squish myself next to you then.."

his other passion stargazing always ends up with him hugging you and telling you about the different constellations and it's stories until you fall asleep...only when he is sure you're dreaming he dares to run his fingers through you hair and lowly hum a lullaby into the otherwise silent night

"Let's dream our life together and promise to make it true one day!"

Diavolo:

as the prince of Hell, Diavolo only ever knew people who treated him with respect, always leaving him to feel lonely and out of place, but then you came and you weren't scared neither did you treat him like a prince, you made him your friend and soon more

with you he feels finally complete and he tries to show you his appreciation and affection any free moment of his time

he'd buy you anything you want not caring about the price, but please tell him that a small and thoughtful gift makes you just as happy as anything else

being with you always has him giddy and bursting with love, he can't hold back and will shower you in attention or at least watch you do your thing

"You're looking radiant my love! I can't believe you're mine!"

similar to Beel he has these affection attacks where he'll just suddenly have the urge to hug you and shower you in kisses

being prince requires a lot of paper work, which he dislikes, when you're around he'll indulge himself in a few more breaks than he should, ending in him having to work overtime much to his dismay

"Will you stay up waiting for me at home?"

He knows it's a selfish thought, but he loves the feeling of coming home to you and getting greeted, he feels at peace when you're there and wait for him

"I'll never have to feel lonely again, when I have you!"

Barbatos:

as a butler time isn't something he has much of, so he some times feels like he can't give you enough, he'll try to meet as often as possible but often it's only for an hour or so a day

"Do you need anything else? More tea? Anything?"

He'll probably be stuck in his butler role and try to serve, completely disregarding himself, just grab him and make him sit down

Barb isn't used to physical touch and feels less comfortable to hold you in public, handholding is the maximum for him, he probably needs some time to get used to the more affectionate things

but when in private gentle touches, soft hugs and small kisses are his thing, just small reassuring stuff while you two relax and talk about daily life

he is more of a listener and he enjoys listening to your voice, it's one of his comfort things, hearing your voice means you're safe and that helps him keep calm a lot...he may not show it, but on the inside he is always worried for you living in between demons, he's on of them he knows how dangerous it can get

phone calls while he works happen more and more often as your relationship progresses, the need to see you gets stronger, but he can't just leave work, so you'll talk over the phone

"I missed you so I had to call. How is your day?"

night-time is his favourite, no work, no on watchers, just you two and your love for each other, if only it could be always like this

"One minute with you feels like eternal bliss, imagine our happiness if you'd stay with me forever!"

Solomon:

Solomon has watched many people die in his life, so he got used to not getting attached too much, falling in love with you wasn't planned, but he can't help feeling clingy with you now

he'd play it down, aloof as he always seems, but on the inside he is screaming at you to not go at the end of the day, just one more hug, one more kiss, maybe stay over the night?

he'd never say it out loud and every time he does say something affectionate something teasing or a 'just kidding' follows, scared he might seem too clingy

"You're my everything, without you I feel like I'm suffocating...just a joke I'm breathing fine, see?"

he's always touching you in some way, holding your hand, arm around your shoulder, his hand on your waist, back or knee, whatever he just wants to feel the warmth of your skin telling him you're still there

he has lived through so many human lifetimes and experienced so much, he's happy to share all the good stuff with you and show you the most wondersome places in all three realms

the bad stuff though he keeps to himself, guides you away and hopes you'll never experience it

"Hey! Surprise I was close by and I thought we could take a walk?"

Solomon loves spending his time with you in whatever way, just whisk him away to whatever activity you'd like, surprise dates are his favourite, he doesn't want to plan out his whole life

"Now is my favourite moment with you. Why? Because I'm with you!"

Simeon:

Simeon as an author has his way with words, being able to spin them just right so every moment will become perfect, but he's more used to writing than talking and he'll use that to his advantage

"Even in the darkest of nights, your beauty lightens the room!"

expect love letter, sweet notes and poems written by him, hidden your schoolwork, waiting for you on your desk in RAD, on your pillow at HoL, anywhere he can sneak them to he will

and trust me he'll get so happy when he finds out you kept every single one of his writings

he also loves cuddles but only in private, in public he'll restrain himself to simple handholding or guiding you through the streets with your arms linked together

he enjoys to spoil you with attention, doing whatever you want, often it leads to cooking where as Luke likes to join in too, long walks, reading sessions, late night movies and cuddles, or even just long conversations about everything and anything you two can think of

"My lamb, may you come over and help a poor author who has lost his inspiration to write?"

when he is stuck with his writings he likes to take a break with you and hold you tight in his arms listening to your suggestions until he feels inspired again, no pressure though he can keep writing any time he doesn't have to come up with something on the spot, just distracting him for a bit works too

"I may have found paradise in your arms tonight, do you think your heart may be so kind to let me stay?"

#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #swd obey me #obey me #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon

482 notes · View notes

osferth · 2 years

Text

love's a strong word - chapter two

pairing: osferth x oc

tagging: @lauwrite1225 @lannisterdaddyissues @othermoony (if u would like to be tagged/removed lmk!)

chapter one

Roseburh had been relishing the chance to have a lazy morning for a while now, but living with a hyperactive seven-year-old boy meant that could never be more than a dream. At what felt like the crack of dawn, Eadwin was shaking her awake.

“Rose!” he repeated insistently, “Rose, get up!”

Exhausted from work the previous night, Roseburh groaned. “Whatever for?”

“I want to play,” said Eadwin firmly.

His sister stared incredulously at him for a moment.

“It’s hardly dawn!” she protested, sitting up. “And from what Baldwin told me, that was all you did yesterday. You promised me you’d study.” Eadwin looked up at her in an act of convincing remorse, but she shook her head. “Don’t give me that, Eadwin, it won’t work on me anymore. Come on, out.”

But the boy persisted, determined to convince her against it. “I have a headache,” he said, changing tack.

“You shouldn’t be playing if you have a headache, then, should you?”

Eadwin scowled, clearly not having thought his strategy through. “Fine,” he muttered, sloping off to find his book.

Their mother, Eadignes, had been the youngest daughter of a noble Centish family before her marriage, and although her children did not have the same status, she had wanted the best for them. Despite their father Rowe’s initial misgivings, she taught them the basics of reading and writing, to broaden what little opportunities they had.

He had eventually come around to the idea, seeing a chance to improve the family’s social standing in the future. The only problem was that none of the children were interested in books or learning, save for Roseburh.

After Eadniges passed away, Roseburh shouldered the responsibility of teaching Eadwin, albeit without the support of her older brothers. Their priority was training; had Rowe not supported his daughter’s endeavour, Eadwin may well have been raised as a fighter too.

It was certainly not in vain - he was proving to be incredibly adept, faster than any of his siblings had been at picking things up. The only issue remaining was his interest, or lack thereof. Rowe would regularly remind his daughter to be strict with the boy to overcome this, but Roseburh sometimes found it difficult.

So much so that when his friend Derian came knocking ten minutes later, inviting Eadwin to break his fast at their house and spend the rest of the day there to play, she decided to let him leave his book on the table and go.

Of course, that left Roseburh alone in the house, and with nothing else to do, she elected to wander around the markets of Coccham, basket in hand. There was little she actually needed to buy, but she figured she would treat herself with the money she had earned the night before.

After half an hour or so, her basket remained relatively light… as did her purse. A beautiful copper necklace had caught her eye earlier, which she impulsively bought before she changed her mind. It went well with the earrings her mother had given her, she justified to herself.

Not wanting to continue spending frivolously, as Erian would put it, Roseburh moved away from the market towards the dock. Sitting on the edge, she carefully drew the necklace out from her pocket and clasped it around her neck with a little smile.

The dock was where she could enjoy the relative quiet of the morning before midday brought the bustle and noise. She much preferred being alone by the water than at home.

However, it seemed her solitude would not last for long.

The sound of wood creaking behind her snapped Roseburh out of her thoughts. Turning around, she saw with a jolt of surprise that it was the boy she had bumped into from the night before… and by the look on his face, he hadn’t expected to see her, either.

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t know you were sitting here. I’ll just be going-”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Roseburh said quickly. “You can stay, if you like.”

The boy fidgeted with his hands for a moment before deciding to do just that. As he sat down beside her, Roseburh got a good look at him for the first time. The darkness of the previous night had cloaked much of what he was wearing, so it was only then that she properly noticed.

“Are you a monk?” she asked curiously, taking in his robes.

He shook his head. “No, Lady, not anymore. I was a novice in Winchester, but I left to become a warrior.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of anything like that before. How are you finding it?”

“It’s only been a few weeks,” he admitted, “so it’s tough. But I’m learning a lot,” he added quickly. “Lord Uhtred is a good teacher… if a little hard on me.”

“Lord Uhtred is training you?” Roseburh repeated in surprise.

“Yes, Lady,” the boy said. “My uncle fought alongside him, so I went to find him so that I might do the same one day.”

Roseburh hummed in appreciation. “What’s your name?”

“Osferth. What about you?”

“Roseburh.”

“You have a lovely name, Lady,” Osferth said a little shyly.

The sweet compliment brought a small smile to her own face. “Then I would like you to use it,” she said. “I am hardly a lady, Osferth.”

“Alright, la- Roseburh,” he quickly amended. It made her chuckle, which in turn emboldened him enough to smile back.

He had a lovely smile, she thought briefly… before remembering what it was she had intended to ask. “Do you not have training today? I would’ve thought with Lord Uhtred being so strict…”

She had seen for herself once the harsh training that his men underwent, albeit in passing on her way to visit a friend some weeks before. If Osferth was here to escape it for a while, she would not blame him.

He grimaced. “Don’t remind me. By now I would’ve been on those grounds for an hour already had they not been drinking last night.”

Now that he mentioned it, Roseburh dimly remembered leaving the alehouse at the same time as several of his men entered, although he had not been with them at the time. “You weren’t there when I left.”

“You were there?” he exclaimed.

“I work there,” Roseburh laughed. “I’m a barmaid. But I had to leave to collect my brother, that’s when they arrived.”

“And that’s when I nearly sent you sprawling,” Osferth finished sheepishly, making her laugh. “You have a brother?” he added out of interest.

Roseburh grinned. “I have three. Ealdian and Erian are my elder brothers, but they’re usually off fighting. Eadwin’s the youngest, he’s seven. You’ve probably seen him running around with his friend Derian. He spends more time with him than with us, I think.”

“Is he with him now?”

“Correct,” she smiled. “But I don’t mind much. If I’m not working, it means I get a lie-in, or I can come down here before it gets busy.”

He gave her a smile of his own. “It’s lovely here. Is this your spot, then?”

“I s’pose, yeah,” she said, “although you’re welcome to join me whenever you like… or whenever you’re free,” she added, raising an eyebrow as she looked up.

Osferth’s smile faded as he realised what had caught her attention.

“So this is where ‘yer hidin’!” exclaimed the burly Irishman Roseburh recalled seeing the night before, stopping just behind Osferth. He grinned at her and raised a hand in greeting. “Good mornin’ to you, lady!” he said cheerfully.

“Morning,” she said, giving him a polite smile. He seemed nice enough, although she still sent Osferth an apologetic look when he was all but dragged away to the training grounds. “It was nice meeting you!” she called after him.

“You too, lady!”

Roseburh supposed she could forgive his slip-up just the one time as she watched the Irishman guffaw and throw an arm around him.

“Was she the girl from yesterday, then?” asked Sihtric as he sharpened his sword.

They were taking a break after an hour's training, which meant Osferth was being subjected to a thorough grilling from his friends.

“‘Course she was,” he muttered.

“He likes her,” Finan grinned.

“She’s - we’re hardly friends!” Osferth protested, although clearly in vain.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t like her.”

“Like who?”

Osferth grimaced as Uhtred appeared, his daughter Stiorra in his arms. “No one, Lord,” he mumbled.

Sihtric snorted. “What I told you about this morning, Lord.”

A look of recognition passed across Uhtred’s face. “Oh, I remember now,” he said and, much to Osferth’s chagrin, smirked. “Who is she, baby monk?”

“She’s called Roseburh, Lord,” he finally admitted. “But there is nothing of the sort that they imply is going on.”

They completely disregarded that last sentence.

Sihtric smiled. “You got her name, though.”

“Yeah, the silly bastard forgot to ask last night,” Finan supplied.

Seeing Osferth roll his eyes for the hundredth time, Uhtred decided to ease all the questioning. “You’ve relaxed long enough,” he said, handing Stiorra to a maid and grabbing his sword, “let’s continue. Come on, all of you.”

Although Osferth did not particularly enjoy the thought of being knocked on his arse by Finan for the fifth time in a row, he greatly preferred it over the embarrassment he was facing. Training would help to clear his mind, especially now that it was being filled with thoughts of the girl on the dock.

#the last kingdom #osferth #osferth x oc #my writing #finally after a million billion years : i have a chapter 2 #who cheered #tlk fic #the title is soo fuckin cheesy i hate 15 y/o me #but im never gonna change it 🤞🏽😝thisnis me

43 notes · View notes

sunfish-studies · 3 years

Text

Worth

✄・・・ Feathery Ink [Karasuno Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Karasuno x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: none

➜ Notes: This is a separate series from Crisp Leaves. Similar to Crisp Leaves, manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm (along 5’7’’). This is just my appreciation towards tall girls, you guys are amazing.

Previous: ‹ Direct Sunlight › | Next: ‹ Acceptance ›

↷ SUMMARY ↶

You began to question if your existence is worth for the team or not.

“Ah, Hitoka-chan, [Name]-chan. Are you done changing?” Shimizu asked, smiling down at both of you who waited on the yard.

The sky was already dark the moment practice was over–something you knew you have to get used somehow if you really want to become the team’s manager in the future. However, what you didn’t expect was how time was surely running quickly that you could ever imagine. Maybe because you thoroughly enjoyed on how the team fired up during practice.

Yachi clearly didn’t expect her name to be mentioned so friendly and you didn’t expect Shimizu to called out for you too. That and her next words almost had you yelped out of surprise. “I’ll walk with you two, so hold on a sec. I’m going to change too.”

“No, it’s okay! I actually think I should be walking with you, or something, or…!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dismissing the blonde’s reluctance, Shimizu jogged towards the changing room and leaving the two of you alone once again. Well, at least Yachi had any decency to reply while you just gaped at the senior’s figure–you found yourself being extremely rude and embarrassing.

“S-Shimizu-senpai is really nice, huh?” you stuttered, not knowing how to make it sound right. But you’re honest with your words–Shimizu treated you nicely and you didn’t once feel uncomfortable around her.

“Y-yeah,” Yachi replied, nodding stiffly.

“What’s wrong, sensei? Why the serious face?” Another voice managed to caught both of your attention. It came from the still lit gym–you noticed that it was Coach Ukai’s and the question directed to Takeda-sensei. Them being quite close with the open-window made their conversation could be heard clearly.

“Oh, well, apparently the bus we were supposed to take for the away games in Tokyo was booked by another club so it doesn’t look like we’ll get it. It looks like it’s going to cost us a lot more than expected so I was trying to figure out what to do.”

“I’ll try talking to a few more alumni.” Coach Ukai hummed in understanding. “I’m sure this problem will come up again in the future.”

“I apologize. I’ll try reaching out as well. Well, if all else fails, I do have some savings.”

“No, no, no! You need to save that for your future wedding or something. And don’t do that with your hand!”

“Yachi-san! [Name]-san!!” while Yachi stiffened from the energetic call, you blinked as Hinata skidded to stop right in front of you two. “Yachi-san, [Name]-san, are you going to be our manager!?”

“Uh, um-“

“Well, Hinata-kun-“

“You will, right!?”

“Hey, first-year girls, hey!” this time it was Tanaka and Nishinoya, looking at Yachi and you in confidence.

“We hope that you will join the Karasuno High School volleyball team.” Nishinoya said.

“Huh?” you and Yachi replied in confusion, with limited vocabulary.

“When you two are around, Kiyoko-san talks a lot.” Tanaka continued. It earned them both a smack on the head along with scolding from the team’s captain almost instantly.

“What kind of invitation is that, you idiots!?”

“Sorry these guys are so stupid,” Sugawara apologized in a more relaxed way–you’re guessing he’s already used with these two’s antics.

“N-No, not at all!” Yachi shook her head frantically.

“It’s okay…” you muttered, not sure how to reply that without sounding rude.

Yachi and you both knew it’s quite a shock to know Shimizu was so eager to have you in the team to help despite almost everything. For Yachi, she didn’t have any experience or knowledge about volleyball and considered herself an extra who’s not worth of her position. She didn’t want to be a hindrance and you understood.

You? You didn’t particularly have any reason to not join and to join. You sure have enough experience from middle school, although it was brief. Your brother loves volleyball so everything about it is already crammed inside your head without your consent. As a manager, you could rate your skill as 5–nothing too grand and nothing too special, too plain maybe could be the right word.

For a really high-spirited team which eager to grow, you’re too… plain. There’s no place for a monotone person like you in a club full of color.

With that, you began to question if your existence is worth for the team or not.

“Is something troubling you two?”

If Yachi’s staring at the empty club application in her hands, then you’re staring at the empty changing locker. Surely, Shimizu noticed your antics.

“By the way, I did play sports, but I had no prior experience with volleyball or being a manager,” your senior admitted. “I don’t think everyone has to like something before giving it a try. I don’t think you need an unwavering will or lofty move just to get started. Sometimes things that you start on a whim end up becoming very important to you, too. To get started, I think you just need a little bit of curiosity. And also a leap of faith.”

A leap of faith.

You found yourself mulling over her words.

This time, Shimizu told you that it’s fine to showed up at practice without having to wear the school’s gym clothes–just white shirt to match the team and jogger pants would do.

“Ouginishi will arrive in four and a half hours!” Shimizu announced as she began to changed to her indoor shoes. Once she got the series of replies, she turned to you two. “Alright, Hitoka-chan, would you line up some chairs around the court there? Let’s see… eight of them!”

“Uh, right!”

“And [Name]-chan, could you prepare the water bottles? The drinking fountain’s not far from here, just around the corner.”

“Okay, and the protein mixture is right over there, right? The blue box-“ You halted your words, shoulders immediately tensed from the automatic question which tumbled from your tongue. Shimizu’s eyes widened before she smiled, even wider one than before.

“That’s right! You really know a lot, it’s amazing!”

Flustered over her praises, you excused yourself immediately–snatching the rack of bottles and bolted towards the nearest drinking fountain. After finished filling them up, you poured each packet for each bottle and shook it to get it mixed properly. You didn’t even notice how fast your hand was moving and noticing that all the bottles were ready.

Once you were back, you put the rack on the designated place and jogged towards Yachi–maybe she would need help moving the chairs.

“Wha? How would I know?” Kageyama questioned, raising a brow–probably answering the conversation happened between him and Hinata which you didn’t know. “Is there a reason you want to eat when you’re hungry?”

“Right? Hmm…” Hinata hummed.

“And where are the water bottles?” Kageyama questioned, looking left and right.

“Here,” You gave one to him, the one you purposely not mix with anything. “I already filled it with water. You have your own protein drink, right?”

You noticed that the raven-haired boy already pulled a package with different color so you knew he had his own choice of protein drink and brought it. Kageyama muttered a thank you, taking the bottle from your hand after you opened the lid so he didn’t have to juggle with the package he held.

“How do you know about that, [Name]-san!?” Hinata questioned, eyes shining. “It’s almost like you’re reading minds!”

“H-Huh? I’m just observing, I guess…”

“Really!? That’s awesome!!”

Yachi was right, it’s like being shone under the intensely bright sun if you’re talking to Hinata.

You were juggling between manager duties, studying in your own, and tutoring Hinata and Kageyama for the upcoming test. It’s quite difficult, but teaching others also helped you memorized the material better–that and also finding out terms that could help the two.

“So, ‘to’ is helping in referring on where do you want to go in this word here.” You explained, circling the word. “For example, ‘I want to go to the gym’.”

After tutoring both Hinata and Kageyama for some time, you learned that the two would literally remember anything if it’s sports-related–especially volley ball. So, it became your best shot in cramming the materials into their head.

“I see!” Hinata exclaimed, furiously writing down the correct form of sentence, while Kageyama nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, it’s already this late,” you muttered as you looked at the clock. “Time sure flew by.”

“You’re right!” Hinata followed your line of sight. “I guess it’s time to go home! Thank you, [Name]-san! Your explanation is really easy to understand!”

“I’m glad I could be of any help,” you smiled in return.

“And after this, we’ll go to Tokyo together!” the orange haired boy exclaimed. “You’re coming too, right, [Name]-san!?”

“Uhm, about that…” You honestly didn’t know how to respond–you couldn’t be a trial manager forever, it’s either completely reject the idea or finally joining as an official member. If you did join, do you even have a role in it? There’s Shimizu and Yachi already, there’s no need for a third manager. “There’s already Hitoka-chan and Shimizu-senpai, right?”

“Yeah! You should join too!”

“Do I really have a place there?” you questioned out loud. “I mean… do I can really be of any help? Two managers are already enough, besides I don’t have anything to offer to the team either. I can’t do anything important to help the team grow stronger…”

“What do you mean!?” Hinata’s shriek almost made your heart jump out from your chest.

“Filling water bottles, washing bibs, mopping the floor, tidying the balls, it’s all important.” Surprisingly, Kageyama was the one who spoke. “It’s simple but important. Without it, we will have double work and it’s exhausting.”

Hinata nodded vigorously. “Kageyama’s right!”

“Do you really need to do something grand to join something?” the raven-haired then questioned. “While you think it’s nothing, the others don’t think so. The one who judge whether your actions leave a mark or not isn’t you, it’s the team. So, quit overthinking. Do what you want.”

It’s like being doused with cold water–it slapped you awake in an unexpected way.

“I guess I will,” you smiled, heart feeling lighter than before. “Thank you, Kageyama-kun, Hinata-kun.”

“So, we’ve finished our exams and starting today, Yachi-san and Otohaku-san will officially be joining us as our managers.”

In the hot summer day, you found yourself back in the gym, but this time standing beside Sawamura and a fidgeting Yachi. She didn’t seem to be uncomfortable, maybe it’s a new feeling of excitement for her–you completely understand because you felt the same.

“Here,” Shimizu went up to the both of you–handing identical black jersey which the team also owned. The inky black material with white broderie sent torrents of emotions towards you, instantly the corner of your eyes felt as if it was burning.

“Ready, and-“

“Welcome to Karasuno High School Volleyball Club!!”

You found yourself bowing ninety-degrees, hugging the jacket tightly against your chest. “It’s a pleasure working with you!”

315 notes · View notes

pathetic-dumpling · 3 years

Text

Coming to Terms

Dream has been having a bad day, which has quickly turned into a bad week. Techno and Phil both need to go out and do essential tasks around the tundra, but they can't leave Dream alone either. So... they find a babysitter. words: 5,188 - read on ao3 instead

CW: overstimulation, implied panic attack, unintentional self-harm, referenced abuse

Dream has been having a bad day. Correction, he’s been having a bad week. He’s been caught in a bit of a spiral for the last several days, and the exhaustion from an attempt at healing keeps dragging him down before he can get out. The last thing Techno wants to do is leave Dream alone like this, but he and Phil have already pushed off as many necessary tasks as they can. They need to head out, but they can’t leave Dream alone… So in comes the Syndicate.

They consider a few people. Niki is chosen.

“Look, all you need to do is watch him for a day. We’ll be back by the end of it, and you can leave, alright?”

Niki scrunches her face up, which is, in all honesty, reasonable. She’s one of the people who didn’t want to interact with Dream, but Techno and Phil are running desperately low on options.

“Is there anyone else?” She asks. “What about Puffy? She’s a therapist, right? Wouldn’t she be more equipped for something like this?”

“A, we don’t want more people knowing about Dream than necessary, and she’s already refused to give Dream treatment. B, we don’t trust her to not psychoanalyze Dream when he really doesn’t want to be psychoanalyzed. Plus, we don’t know what kind of domestic issues there are because Dream hasn’t opened up about that part of his life yet.”

Niki winced. “What about Ranboo?”

“Well, you see, Ranboo’s been growing into himself recently,” Phil interjects, beside Techno. “Which is good, by all means, but that also means he’s been embracing that he’s a little bit of a dick sometimes. You’re literally the only person we can think of who can be… pleasant and hold your tongue around Dream.”

“And- and we don’t wanna sound misogynistic,” Techno quickly adds. “This isn’t a ‘the kind woman puts up with the toxic man’ situation; it’s just… Dream is fragile right now, like, really fragile, and we’re pretty sure you’re the only person who has the kind of self-restraint to not break him any more, you know?”

Niki raises a brow but ultimately sighs. “This is your only option?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Phil laughs.

“...alright. I’ll watch him. One day, got it?”

“Oh my gods, thank you so much, Niki.”

So Niki is given keys to the house. Mentally, she prepares for whatever Dream might try. She saw him, briefly, in a Syndicate meeting or two, but only between several layers of fabric and zero spoken words. She doesn’t know what he’s like if he’s grown out of his… nastier habits yet. Techno has done everything in his power to tell the Syndicate that Dream has changed, but none of them have actually seen any change. Niki kind of doubts it, if she’s being honest, but she trusts Techno’s judgment more than anything. She knows Techno wouldn’t lie to her and lead her on like others in the past.

She wakes up the following day when things are still dark. Niki can see her breath, even within the small haven of an underground city warmed by countless fires and lanterns. She throws on her Syndicate cloak, getting ready to head out to the arctic. Hopefully, Techno didn’t want her to do anything with the animals because she definitely wouldn’t be able to stand being outside for that long. When she arrives, Techno thanks her profusely. He pledges to show her around the house and offers a few tips while Phil gets ready for their trip outside.

“Alright.” Techno swings his hands by his sides. Niki has noticed he’s stopped clapping them when he begins to speak. “First things first, Dream hasn’t eaten in, like, three days, so we really need you to try to get him to eat something. His diet has been pretty limited so far, but we left a list of things he’s been able to eat so far on the counter. Try to stay fresh- anything stale makes him throw up, and so does steak. Don’t offer it. We keep apples in a little icebox downstairs because he likes fruit cold. Also, Dream likes himself cold, too. He gets anxious when he’s hot.

“If Dream hides in his room, he’s most likely hiding under his bed. If you need to interact with him during that time, do not try to pull him out. That will scare him and he might bite. Instead, just kind of lay on the floor and face him and just… wait until he’s ready to talk. If you try to push him, he’ll probably just curl up more, and he tends to get really distant for the next day or two when that happens.

“If he asks for something, it means that he needed it about three hours ago and has only now gotten the courage to ask for it. Even if he prefaces it between a lot of ‘only if you want to’ and ‘you don’t have to,’ don’t believe him. We’re trying to teach him that asking for things is good but it’s been a bumpy ride. Also, he’s iffy on touch; I’d say it’s better to not try.”

Techno stops, tapping his lip. “Try not to let him outside without supervision; we haven’t really been able to block off potential hazards yet. Other than that, I think that’s everything. Dream is sleeping right now, but he knows you’ll be here. He might get startled anyway. Try not to stare or anything. It makes him uncomfortable. Just treat him like a nervous cat or something.”

Niki blinks, trying desperately to process all of the information that was just dumped on her. Techno waits patiently as she mentally backtracks and tries to commit everything to vague memory. Nervous cat? That’s what the ruler of the server has turned into?

“Okay… I think I got all of that?” Niki says, hoping she got everything she truly needed down. She knows how awkward things get when she or Techno has to start repeating themselves.

“Cool.” Techno sighs, running a hand through his hair until it gets caught in his braid. “A nervous, injury-prone cat… That’s Dream. Thank you for doing this, really. Dream just started being okay with being in the same room as boiling water, and I think I might have a breakdown if I have to leave to make tea again. This means a lot. Anything you need from us, me or Phil, we’ll be happy to help as soon as we get back.”

Niki nods. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would be on the agenda when I joined the Syndicate, but I’m happy to help you, Techno.”

“Of course.” Techno bows his head. “Of course. We’ll be back as soon as we can. Again, don’t let him… do anything to himself, okay?”

Niki gives another nod and a thumbs up. “You can count on me, Techno.”

Techno gives a strained smile and then, awkwardly, does a slight bow before leaving. His muffled voice filters through the door as he calls out to Phil, and then they head out. Niki takes in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before sighing as she watches the silhouettes of her friends disappear over the horizon.

Alright. She can do this. She may not like Dream, but she did agree as a part of the Syndicate to… help. This is just for Techno and Phil, to keep them from worrying. To watch Dream and make sure he doesn’t try anything he shouldn’t. Niki could do that. In fact, she was happy to keep the man out of trouble, if it were for Techno’s sake. Now she just needed to find something to do until there was someone to watch.

Niki glances around the house, finding things pleasantly clean. The chests were a bit of a mess, but things weren’t lying all over the place, and it looks like it’s been cleaned recently. It looks like the house has been somewhat baby-proofed, too, which makes a little chuckle bubble in Niki’s throat. They’ve only been housing Dream, and he’s certainly a grown man, isn’t he? What would they need to keep him out of drawers for?

Niki gets to entertaining herself with one of Techno’s many book recommendations, making a tiny home for herself on the couch. She opens the blinds and curtains, letting any sort of light filter in as much as it can. The sun is slow to rise in the arctic, and candlelight can only do so much. Slowly, as the sun rises over the north, Niki finds herself growing more hungry, so she starts making some food. It gets bright soon after that, lighting up the room with the near-blinding rays of the sun. Niki adjusts soon enough, simply happy to have more than enough reading light.

A few hours later, after Niki has already eaten and taken care of her share of the dishes, Dream emerges. The first thing she notices is that he’s completely maskless. Secondly, he looks exhausted to the bone, drowned in a dark green jacket and a black shirt underneath. Loose-fitting pants cover Dream’s legs, almost completely hiding his figure from view. Dream’s eyes are dark, his posture slouched inward, and his hair is messy, long, and frail. He looks unbearably tense. His eyes squint at how bright it is, but he tries to shake it off quickly with a flick of his hands. He does a quick double-take on Niki, eyes darting around the room before relaxing slightly. His attention never leaves her, though. His gaze makes a shiver crawl up Niki’s spine.

“Good morning, Dream!” She says politely because maybe Dream is worse in the mornings.

Dream waves tiredly, and Niki notices his bandaged finger. Something about it looks off until she realizes it’s too short to be normal, missing nearly the entire first section. She wonders how it happened, how she’s never noticed before. Dream takes his bandaged hand, dragging it down his face. He lets out a long sigh, sitting down at the circular table in the kitchen, leaning heavily on it for support. He raises his hands, and although they tremble and shake, Niki recognizes one thing. Dream is signing.

Oh. It looks like Technoblade forgot to mention one thing.

“Oh!” She says quickly, tucking her book into her chest. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know sign language.”

Dream, from the table, raises a brow at her. He raises his hands, signing what Niki can only assume is: you don’t know sign?

“I always meant to learn, but the only people who use it actively on the server are Callahan and….”

Me. Niki can guess that one well enough.

“Yes… you. I’m sorry.”

Dream waves his hand dismissively. He gestures for a pen, which Niki retrieves without much hesitance. She may not like Dream, but she still needs to communicate with him if this day even has a chance at going well. She places the pen and small pad of paper on the table, stepping back quickly. Dream lets out a long breath before beginning to write.

I’ll show you some stuff I probably won’t be able to translate in the moment, Dream writes. Writing looks a little more challenging with the ever-present tremor in Dream’s hands and his shortened finger, but he makes do. He writes down a few simple words: can’t, stop, no, sorry, and shows the signs for each of them. Niki furrows her brow.

“These are all negative responses. What about… ‘yes’?”

Dream struggles to meet Niki’s eyes for a second, looking away almost immediately. He seems borderline uncomfortable. Slowly, he curls his hand into a fist, nodding it forward twice.

“Yes?” Niki asks in conformation.

Yes.

Niki nods, trying to commit this information, like everything else dumped on her today, to memory. Dream drops the pen after that, cradling his hands in his lap. They certainly… don’t stop shaking. Hm. Niki would ask about it, but she doesn’t really want to poke at any boundaries. Dream fiddles with his fingers, beginning to bounce his leg.

“Em-” Niki starts, catching Dream’s attention and picking at the back of her neck awkwardly. “Techno told me that you should probably eat today, right? I made food a few hours ago, but I can make something for you or….”

Dream waves his hands, furiously shaking his head. He scribbles down variants of I’m not hungry, and you don’t have to, which Niki isn’t given a chance to object to. Dream carefully gets up, grabbing the notepad beside him and pushing past Niki. He makes his way over to the couch, plopping himself down and sighing. Niki watches him, unsure of what entirely to do. She knows what Techno told her, but there was only so much that was truly in her power. It didn’t help how dismissive Dream appeared to be with her attempts at offering him food.

This Dream is… new, to say the least. She didn’t know the old Dream outside of what she heard from her peers, but she especially doesn’t know this Dream. Is he better? Does he know that what he’s done is bad? Terrible? Unforgivable, even? Does he regret it at all, or does he just think he’s a victim in all of this?

It takes two more attempts at getting Dream to eat before Niki’s patience starts running a little slim. She’s never had the time to talk to Dream before, but right now, he just seems nothing more than tired. He looks fine, if not a little skinny, maybe a little quiet. For all Niki knows, this could be a ploy, a trick, to live the high life off of Techno’s dedicated care and then run off into the woods. Niki feels a little nasty for thinking this, but what if Dream is just faking this all? What if he’s just playing it up for show and sympathy? To get free protection while his next plan brews quietly in the background? She’s heard about the lengths Dream was willing to go to in the past; what would make this different? She knows how convincing an actor Dream can be, and dedication to a part can take someone a long way.

Well… Now is as good of a time as ever to get a few things off her chest, Niki supposes. If Dream isn’t faking, he’ll have some kind of genuine reaction, and if he is, then, well… Niki can keep her friends from getting used again. It’s a win-win, really.

“You know, you’re very lucky Techno decided to care for you so much,” she says from the kitchen because the distance makes her feel safer. “He didn’t have to do all of this, you know? It’d certainly be easier for him to have ignored your favor. I would’ve.”

From behind, Niki hears a sharp intake of breath, but no objections come. Niki looks behind her at Dream, still sitting on the couch, wide-eyed and staring at her. He swallows, eyes darting to the side like he’s sorting through his thoughts. He gestures at Niki, a sort of go-on movement, so she turns around and continues. “Things like Wilbur, Doomsday, the festival, you played a role in all of those, you know? You’ve been the authority figure of the server for so long. You-- you had control over exile and Tommy and… Everything you’ve done, it’s hurt all of us. It’s- it’s hurt me, and I-”

There’s a loud, distinct sniffle behind Niki. Slowly, she turns to look behind her, finding Dream curled up on the couch. He brings his knees up to his chest, pressing tightly into himself. He’s looking to the side, almost shameful. His shoulders are shaking.

“...Dream?” Niki asks. Maybe this is the genuine reaction she’s looking for.

Dream nods sharply. He looks up, meeting Niki’s eyes, his own glassy and red and wet. His eyes fill with tears, so he quickly hides his face again, pressing it into the arm wrapped around his knee. It feels like he’s forcing himself to keep his gaze on Niki, and that information tastes a little bitter going down Niki’s throat. He lifts his head just enough to meet Niki’s eyes again, folding his hand into a half square and pressing it to his temple. Niki doesn’t know the sign, but she doesn’t need to.

I know, he says. I know.

Dream takes a shuddering breath, fingers dancing across the parts of the body he’s gripping. They speed up and slow down as he filters his thoughts, eventually coming to a standstill. He grabs his notepad with trembling hands, scribbling down something hastily, ripping out the paper, and holding it out for Niki while hiding himself. Nervously, Niki steps forward because the memory of powerful and quick and ruthless Dream has never left her, even when presented with the sight of the trembling man before her.

I know, the paper says. I want to listen. But not today. I can’t today.

Niki swallows. She looks at Dream, trembling and crumbling in on himself, and nods. “Okay,” she says. “I understand. I… I’m sorry. That was out of line, I...”

Dream nods quickly and sharply. His fingers tap quickly against his leg. Niki feels awkward, standing in front of Dream like this as he fidgets and shuffles. She puts a little distance between the two of them, retreating back to the kitchen. The house is plunged into a small period of unrelenting silence. Niki wished that she knew at least a little sign because maybe things wouldn’t be so awkward. Dream doesn’t look all too thrilled to be talking with her either way, though, so perhaps it was wishful thinking. He’s running a hand through his hair, pausing to tug on the long strands every few seconds.

Niki frowns. Has Techno told her anything about how to handle something like this? Sorting through her memory quickly tells Niki that, no, Techno hadn’t spilled anything helpful for a time like this. He’d asked Niki to make sure Dream didn’t do anything to himself, but certainly, he wasn’t that much of a danger to his own wellbeing, right? Techno had mentioned some other useful things, but he seems to have forgotten some details Niki would’ve loved to have. She sighs.

Niki supposes that the best she can do right now is swallow her words and try to be helpfully polite. To, in kinder words, simply watch Dream. She tried to ask him about some things here or there but mostly ended up talking at Dream instead of with him. That’s okay, Niki didn’t mind. She didn’t really go into today expecting some sort of riveting conversation, and the one she’d already tried to have ended oh-so-splendidly.

Suddenly, the sound of Dream’s stomach growling caught her attention. Niki looked back from her chunk of dough that she’d started kneading to fill the silence at Dream, who was caught like a deer in headlights. He looked to her quickly before starting off on what Niki thinks is a garbled bundle of excuses about how he wasn’t hungry again. Niki laughs kindly, making Dream’s hands pause mid-air.

“I’ll go get you an apple or something,” she says, running her hands under the sink to wash off the extra flour. “Techno showed me where everything was before you woke up. I’ll be back in just a second. Stay put, okay?”

Dream nods, hiding his face and giving a small thumbs up. The trip downstairs is quick, only interrupted by a skulk of three foxes Techno apparently kept in his basement. The box with cooled fruit was propped up, probably to keep the foxes out of it, Niki mused, if the scratch marks on the side were anything to go off of. Dream was sitting in virtually the exact same position Niki had left him in, nervously glancing at her when she approached. At least he’s good at following directions, Niki noted. She held out the apple, waited a long few seconds for Dream to take it, then set it on the table next to him. Dream’s eyes watched her with rapt attention, almost like he was afraid she was suddenly going to turn around and attack him.

After that little experience, Niki went back to kneading dough as pleasantly as she could. She couldn’t explain the small smile that crept onto her lips when the inevitable crunch of an apple being eaten hit her ears after minutes of silence. Niki chalks it up to the fact that Techno would be happy that Dream ate and tries to move on from it as passively as she can.

Shuffling fills the corners of the house between the clanging of various pans and Niki’s humming. Dream had come a little closer, sitting stiffly at the counter and watching Niki work after throwing his apple core into Carl’s stable from the window. He keeps the notepad close to him, bouncing the pen back and forth against the solid surface. Niki greets him and starts explaining what she’s doing, to which Dream nods along. She tries to suggest Dream join the baking whenever she can, moving pans around and into the sink when they’ve become dirty. Dream’s eyes follow her hands as she gestures around, eyebrows twitching downward every few seconds. Every semi-loud sound makes his eyes blink in surprise and something else Niki can’t quite place. It goes on like this for about half an hour, with various levels of participation coming from Dream.

Eventually, he begins to look more and more lost in thought, distracted, even borderline frustrated, eventually dropping his pen roughly and tapping his pointer finger against the counter. His other hand goes to his hair, pulling, as a small whimper tumbled into the air. Dream’s nail makes a quick tap, tap, tap that sounds borderline panicky, only increasing in speed. His shoulders are tense, and because Niki is so used to providing comfort to those unscarred by touch, she reached out for his shoulder.

Dream jerks away as soon as her hand meets his shoulder, a small, distressed noise leaving his throat. He stumbles onto shaky legs, looking almost as if Niki burned him. Niki, in return, pulled her hand back to her chest. Dream holds up a finger, a small give me a moment, before distancing himself. He hangs his head and holds up his hands, shaking them out almost violently as he paces the living room.

“Dream?” Niki begins to ask, watching the man pace and shake his hands. What was he doing? What was going on?

Her thoughts are abruptly cut off by a sharp yelp when Dream suddenly turns and pushes over a chair. This is still Dream at the end of the day, and once upon a time, he was terrifying and dangerous. Niki clamps her hands down over her mouth to keep any further sound from escaping when it makes Dream flinch. His breath picks up in shakiness and speed until a loud crash makes the house go silent.

Dream’s head whips around, finding a pile of shattered glass on the floor next to the chair he flipped over and the table it apparently took on its way down. He stares at it for a good, long second, the breath stolen from his lungs. A quick, strangled sob leaves Dream’s mouth as he drops to his knees, scrambling for the glass pieces. Hot, fat tears fill the corners of Dream’s eyes. His hands are shaking so much it makes the glass pieces he picks up clink against each other. Almost desperately, Dream tries to wipe away the tears, and Techno’s worry about Dream hurting himself suddenly becomes much more apparent as the world catches up to Niki.

“Oh- Dream, no, we- let’s not-” Niki drops to her knees beside Dream, holding her hands out gently. “Let’s not do that, okay? You’ve got glass in your hands.”

Dream doesn’t stop. The tears and sobs only spilling harder and faster. Niki doesn’t think this can get any worse, so she slowly puts her hand over Dream’s, grasping it and pulling it away gently. There’s no resistance, even as Dream digs his chin into his chest. Pricks of blood are already forming on scratches left on Dream’s cheeks from the glass, quickly mixing with tears. Dream starts signing something frantically, and Niki doesn’t know what he’s saying, but, oh, she wishes she did.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Niki tries. “Are you worried Techno will be angry?”

Dream nods, choking on another sob.

“I’m sure he won’t be!” Niki presents her hands, cupped, to Dream again. “He really cares about you, alright? He won’t be mad over a broken cup, okay?”

Dream makes a strangled sound that almost sounds like a “but” as he snaps his head up to face Niki.

“No. No buts.” Niki pushes her hands forward pointedly. “I’ll clean up the glass, okay? I think you should go lay down on your bed and rest. Calm down a little, alright? I’m supposed to be here to help, and Techno would be upset if you hurt yourself. I’ll let you know when everything’s been taken care of.”

Shakily, Dream brings his free hand up to his face, fingers touching the newly formed cuts as his lips trace Niki’s words. His eyes go wide, pressing down on the tiny bubbles of blood forming. He drops the glass into Niki’s hands, staggering up with a sharp breath. He mutters something too faint for Niki to catch before disappearing into his room. Niki picks up the rest of the glass, her hands thankfully much steadier than Dream’s own despite what just happened. Periodically, she glances up to Dream’s room, watching, waiting.

She isn’t quite sure what she’s waiting for, maybe for him to come bursting out, angry at being coddled, or perhaps for him to come slinking back with shaky hands and hot tears and try to help again. Whatever it is, it never comes.

Carefully, Niki spends a few minutes making sure no shards had spread out over the house or that she misses any finite pieces. After her searches come back clean, Niki moves to the knocked-over furniture. She rights the table and chair Dream had knocked over, huffing out a small sigh of relief. The living room was clean again, thankfully. She hopes Techno won’t be mad. That would just make her look bad when Dream was so clearly distressed over the whole ordeal.

At the thought of Dream, Niki makes her way over to his room. She knocks, the wood giving way and opening up into the small room. Dream lays on his bed, curled up into a ball, and appears to be fast asleep. The blankets look almost deliberately untouched around him. Niki steps into the dark room, noting the closed blinds on his window. Everything is kept down to nearly a depressing minimum, the only trace of life in the room being the messy, yet unmoved, sheets and a single flowerpot laying on a chest.

It would be better to let him sleep, Niki thinks. The room is kept cold, and Niki doesn’t want Dream to get sick, so she decides to drape the untouched sheets over Dream’s sleeping form. As she pulls up the blankets around the sleeping body, though, Dreams’ eyes flutter open, and his body tenses. He turns his head to watch her silently.

“I’ve cleaned up the glass, so the living room is good to be in again,” Niki offers. She pulls her hands away, crouching down so she doesn’t loom over Dream. “I was going to let you sleep; sorry for waking you.”

Dream shrugs, not really looking like he had been sleeping in the first place. He sits up, glancing at the sheets pooling around him. Dream glances around, scrubbing at his face and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. Despite Niki’s protests, he gets up and shuffles his way into the living room. His eyes fall on the now empty space on the table, sucking in a soft, shuddering breath. Niki comes to stand beside him.

“Hey,” she says. “It’s okay. I’m not angry, and they won’t be either, okay?”

Dream’s eyes flit from the table down to Niki. His body, slouched forward, leans a little closer to her as he nods silently. He looks back to the room, eyes squinting. He shoves his hands in his pockets and produces the pen and paper he’d kept on him; scribbling down, can you close the blinds? Niki smiles. She needs to encourage him to ask for things, too.

“Sure.”

Dream makes a home for himself on the couch. He eyes Niki’s book and they make idle chatter over it, Niki sitting across from him in the chair. They slide the notepad between each other on the table, both patiently waiting for the other to read or write before responding. Dream apologizes for the outburst. He said that he was feeling overwhelmed and hasn’t had to deal with something like that in a long time. The apology was accepted. Niki even manages to get a small laugh out of Dream, one that tugs gently on his throat and makes his chest stutter. It’s nice to see Dream’s smile, the way it cracks his face as he chuckles to himself. Somehow, it’s the most pride she’s felt in a while.

When Niki gets up to make herself some food, Dream takes her up on the offer to eat together. The list Techno left with what Dream could eat suddenly became very useful when preparing dinner. He doesn’t eat much and apologizes about it, for the hassle he must be causing, but it was what Niki was expecting anyway. Dream goes to sleep soon after that, pausing at his door and sending a quick, earnest thank you to Niki. She smiles.

“You’re welcome, Dream.”

Techno wasn’t mad, and neither was Phil. They seemed more focused on the fact that Dream actually ate a decently sized meal for the first time that week than anything else. Dream, who was hovering in the back, made sure to send Niki off with a little wave.

If she feels a little protective over him during the next Syndicate meeting, that was only her business. If she spoke in a hushed tone and kept an eye on him so he wouldn’t get into trouble, it was just general caution mixed with a bit of care. When she brought the loaves of bread with her on a visit, they were for Techno, Phil, and Dream, but she couldn’t deny the tiny bit of excitement that bloomed in her chest when Phil suggested Dream learn how to bake to help with tremors and outbursts.

If she let Dream into her stash or secret recipes for pies and bread, it stayed between them. Dream promised to keep them secret, and Niki didn’t doubt him. He smiled at her one day, growing nicely into the freckles that had started to speckle his skin, while his third batch of experimental dough was baking. Niki couldn’t help but smile back.

300 notes · View notes

ray-ray-writings · 4 years

Text

Family Matters-Awesamdude

This is a Sam x gn!reader also with a bit of Son!Tommyinnit x gn!reader as well in the dreamsmp! Thank you to 🍉 for this idea!!! (P.S. Do you all remember that Fundy video where he coded it so that he could take Dream on a movie date? Yeah we’re going to pretend that that code applies to Minecraft and so you can have TVs so you can watch movies and stuff lol… That’s all) (P.P.S. This took longer than I thought it would so this is my only post for the night. I’m sorry)

Masterlist here!

After spending a lot of time with Tommy, Y/N and Sam decide its time to expand their own family

Y/N’s POV

“Honey I’m home!” I heard my husband call from the front door. “In the kitchen!” I called back as I finished up dinner. “I also brought a guest. Hope that’s okay.” Sam announced as he entered the kitchen. I looked away from what I was doing a little confused. “Of course it’s okay, who did you bring?” I questioned as he approached me, leaned down and gave me a quick kiss as a greeting. Sam simply grinned and moved out of the way revealing a blonde teenage boy standing in the doorway with a grin on his face. “Tommy!!” I exclaimed, leaving the stove and running to the young boy. “Hi Y/N!” He shouted in response, allowing me to wrap my arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you! I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while!” I told the young boy, pulling back slightly from the hug. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy with Tubbo. But I ran into Sam as he was walking back from the prison and we started talking and he invited me back here for dinner. I hope that’s okay, I can leave if you want, I don’t want to intrude” Tommy rambled off nervously. I couldn’t help but let out a scoff of disbelief at that, “Okay course it’s okay! You’re always welcome in our home Tommy. Come, sit! Dinner is almost reader,” i said before peeling myself off of the boy and ushering him to the open seat at the table.

I quickly returned to the stove where Sam had taken over making dinner and had actually finished by the time I got there. “Do you want to serve or do you want me to?” Sam questioned softly, giving me a warm smile. I let out a hum before responding, “I’ll serve if you want to get drinks.” Sam gave me a nod, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to my lips before moving away from my side and getting cups. I quickly grabbed three plates before portioning out the food I had made and carefully carried the plates over to the table and set them down in front of our respective chairs. “Thanks Y/N. Thanks Sam” Tommy thanked us as we set the food and drink down in front of him. “No problem kiddo” I responded, sitting down in my own seat before Sam sat in his. “Let’s eat!”

The three of us ate together and talked about our days as well as catching up with what Tommy had been getting up too. It felt really nice talking to Tommy. Ever since Philza had moved out to the tundra with Techno, we had kind of taken Tommy under our wing. Sam had spent a lot of time with him building and I had spent a lot of time with him mining and gathering materials. It had been a little bit since the three of us hung out, Tommy had been busy with Tubbo running their country.

“Can you stay for a little bit longer?” I asked the younger boy as we cleared plates from the dinner table. A bright smile formed on his face as he nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, yeah I can. What did you have in mind?” Tommy responded. I gave him an excited grin before quickly putting the dishes in the sink, grabbing his arm, and pulling him into the living room. Sam also put his plate in the sink and followed behind us.

Once in the living room, I softly pushed Tommy to the couch before rushing over to the TV and putting in a new movie I had yet to see and I knew that Tommy and Sam would enjoy it too. I turned back around and found Tommy sitting in the middle of the couch and Sam sitting to the right of him. I giddily took the spot open on the left side of Tommy and hit play on the remote.

Once I had settled on the couch, I moved my arm to wrap around Tommy’s shoulders and pull him close to my side. Tommy gave me a confused look but I shrugged, “I wanted to be close to you and my husband, and this is the only way to do it.” At my words, Sam reached up and wrapped his arm around Tommy’s shoulder too, his arm resting on top of mine. Tommy seemed to accept my answer and settled down, almost curling closer into my side.

The three of us mostly watched the movie in silence, laughing at the appropriate parts and joking about something the characters were doing. Toward the end, I felt something drop onto my shoulder. I looked over in confusion and felt my heart melt at the sight. Tommy had fallen asleep and in his exhaustion, he head had dropped onto my shoulder. I looked up and met Sam’s eyes, who was staring fondly at the two of us.

“He really is like our kid sometimes” I whispered to my husband. His eyes didn’t leave Tommy’s form. “Yeah… Do you think that maybe… possibly… we could… ya know?” I knew what he was trying to say. “Really? You want to?” Sam’s eye flicked up from Tommy’s sleeping face. “Yeah, I really really do… Is that okay?” There was a moment’s pause where we both stared at each other, glancing down at Tommy before meeting his gaze again, “Of course that’s okay Sam. I really want to start a family with you. I love you so much” “I love you so much too baby.” Sam, as carefully as he could leaned across Tommy and pressed a sweet kiss to my lips before settling back in his spot with a grin on his lips. We were going to do it. We were going to start our own family.

*Time skippppp*

Tommy was the first person we told when we had gotten confirmation that we were going to be parents. The two of us made Tommy’s favorite meal and told him that we were going to have a baby. “I’m going to be a big brother?” Tommy gasped in excitement. Tears filled my eyes at his words. Of course Sam and I considered him as a son, but we didn’t know he thought of us in the same way. “Yeah Tommy,” Sam chimed in, tears forming in his eyes as well, “You’re going to be a big brother” Tommy shot up from his seat and ran over to me and threw his arms around me. “Oh this is going to be so cool! I’ve always wanted a younger sibling and now I can finally have one! I’m going to teach them so many curse words!” That made the both of us laugh, “No you absolutely will not” I chided, laughter lacing my voice as tears began falling down my face. “Oh I absolutely will.”

The next few months were spent preparing for the baby. Tommy was a great help. He spent a lot of days helping Sam extend our house and prepping a nursery for our new addition to the family. Tommy also spent a lot of time helping me. Making sure that I had everything I needed and that I wasn’t over exerting myself, which I found very sweet. Tommy did not leave our house during this time and so we decided to build another room for him to live in.

Once the baby, a beautiful little girl, finally arrived, Tommy was so stoked. He almost never left her side. Tommy would spend several hours holding our little baby, Stella. There would be many nights where Stella would wake me or Sam up with her crying and by the time either of us got there, Tommy was already holding her, trying to sooth her crying. He was really truly the best big brother to Stella.

“You guys haven’t had a proper date night in a long time yeah?” Tommy asked randomly one night as the four of us were seated at dinner. Sam and I shared a look before turning back to the boy who had become our son, “Yeah, I guess not huh?” Sam asked with a chuckle. I couldn’t help but chuckle as well as I fed Stella, “It’s been since… I don’t know, before we announced we were going to have Stella. But it’s alright, Stella has taken up a big part of our life and she needs a lot of attention, it’s what being a parent is. We’re alright” I told the boy, looking over and throwing a wink to Sam who threw one back at me with another chuckle.

Tommy was silent for a moment, contemplating his next words before he spoke, “I mean… Maybe I could watch her for the night while you two go out and have a proper date night” Tommy offered. The offer surprised me. Because yes, Tommy loves his little sister and spends a lot of time with her, but he has only spent time around her when we were around as well. “I would be a really good babysitter too! I would make sure she was fed and she had a clean diaper and went to bed on time. I pinky promise!” Tommy rambles, trying really hard to convince us.

I looked over to Sam who was already looking at me. I rose my eyebrow at him, and he shrugged in response before raising an eyebrow at me in return. I also gave him a shrug in response before we both turned back to Tommy. “Alright” we both agreed in unison. “After dinner we can pick a date and time, how’s that sound?” Tommy let out a cheer at Sam’s response, startling Stella a little bit. I giggled and quickly soothed her, getting her to go back to eating before looking back at Tommy, “I take that as a yes?” “Yes! Absolutely!”

So the date was set. Next week the two of us would go out on a small date together, leaving both of our children behind back at the house. Each day that passed, Tommy grew more and more excited about the date. I honestly think that Tommy was more excited about our date than we were. Once the day finally arrived, Tommy practically shoved the two of us out the house, slamming the door closed behind us.

I couldn’t help but hesitate to leave the front of our house. Sam immediately noticed and wrapped his arm around me and pulled me along the path, “Come on hun, they’ll be fine. You know Tommy loves her and wouldn’t let anything happen to her.” I let out a sigh but nodded and rested my head on his shoulder, “You’re right. You’re right. I’m just nervous about leaving her,” I admitted. Sam let out a hum and leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, “I know baby. Me too, but Tommy’s got this and if he needs anything, he knows to get a hold of us.” I nodded once more, “Yeah… Yeah okay. Okay… Let’s go have fun baby.” “Let’s do that”

The two of us left the house, only glancing back one time each to make sure the house was still standing until we were out of view of it. Once we could no longer see the house, the two of us began to focus on each other and our date night. We allowed ourselves to get lost in each other and go back to the giggly cutesy couple that the two of us were before we had our baby. Not that we’re still not giggly or cutesy, it’s just that we have definitely been more stressed due to our child. But we were able to have an actual, proper, date night with no screaming kids interrupting our kisses or hugs. It was actually really nice and relaxing.

When the two of us came home, it felt like we were on cloud nine. For the first time in a long time, we didn’t have to worry about either of our children. We knew where the baby was and that Tommy was taking care of her to the best of his abilities. The house was quiet when we walked in, which was a little weird. Normally, Tommy would be talking to Stella if she was awake, but if she wasn’t he would have put her in her crib and come back downstairs to watch a movie or something… But the TV wasn’t on and he wasn’t talking.

“Tommy?” I called out softly through the house. No response. “Tommy?” Sam tried, his voice also soft. Also no response. “Maybe he’s asleep?” I murmured, walking forward further into the house, Sam following behind. “Maybe. But that would be weird too, he usually never goes to be without telling us goodnight.” “Maybe he’s trying something new” “Maybe.”

The two of us walked through the house quietly, looking for any sign of Tommy or Stella. Sam and I parted ways as we walked through, Sam went to the kitchen and I went to the living room. My eyes scanned the room and immediately stopped on the most adorable sight I had ever seen on the couch. I poked my head out of the living room and called to my husband softly, “Sam. I found them,” I whisper shouted causing him to step out of the kitchen. “Yeah? They in there?” “Yeah… Come look.” Sam quickly walked down the hallway and peered into the living room. “Oh my gosh” he whispered as his eyes met the sight, “I know right?”

There on the couch was Tommy and Stella. Tommy’s head was tilted back onto the back of the couch and baby Stella rested on his chest. Tommy’s hands rested protectively on Stella’s back holding her close to him. Small snores were falling from the young blonde’s lips as he peacefully slept on the couch. Over Tommy’s shoulder, a burp rag rested and beside him a half drunk bottle lay on it’s side. It seems that he was trying to get her to eat, but she just wanted to snuggle and sleep.

“He really is the best big brother that anyone could ask for,” I whispered to my husband who hummed in agreement, “He really is. They’re the best kids that parents could ask for.” Kids. Our kids. They are our children. A small tear made its way down my cheek causing me to let out a sniff, “yeah, they really are.” Sam looks over to me and chuckled, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. “You big softie” he teased, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Oh hush, you’re the same way,” I mumbled, my face pressed into his chest. I felt a chuckle rumble through his body as he laughed at me, “Yeah… You’re right. You’re 100% right.”

We stood there for a few moments longer before I let out a small yawn. “Tired?” Sam asked, pulling me away from the hug slightly to look at my face. I gave him a small nod and a tired smile, “Yeah, I had a really fun day with this really cool guy and now I’m a bit tired,” I told him. Sam laughed and pressed a small kiss to my forehead. “Wow, that guy sounds pretty cool,” Sam claimed, going on with the joke. “He really is. I love him lots, we have two children together that we should probably put to bed right now.” Another laugh escaped his lips, “I’m sure he loves you lots too. And I’m sure he’d agree with you about getting the kids to bed. I bet he would suggest you get Stella and he get Tommy.” It was my turn to laugh at him, “Yeah. I would definitely agree with that,” I giggled. Sam gave me a soft smile before leaning down and giving me a soft and slow kiss that I instantly returned. “I love you so much” “I love you too”

After we broke apart, the two of us softly moved to the children that were knocked out on the couch. Ever so carefully, I peeled Tommy’s hands from his sister’s back before picking her up and tucking her to my own chest and stepping away from the couch. Sam quickly took my spot and ever so slowly and carefully picked up our son bridal style. We carefully made our way to our respective child’s room. I carefully laid Stella down in her crib, tucking her in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and leaving the room.

I made my way to Sam and I’s shared bedroom, quickly getting ready for bed and crawling into bed before Sam entered the room as well. We were silent as he got ready for bed and crawled in next to me. “Have any troubles?” I whispered, curling myself into his chest. Sam’s arms immediately wrapped around my body, cuddling me closer. “No, you?” “Nope. All good on the Stella front.” “Good”

We were silent for a little while longer, his hands rubbing up and down my back softly, lulling me closer to the edge of sleep. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you,” Sam murmured after a while, breaking the silence. “For what?” I responded sleepily, confused at what he was saying. “For this. For letting Tommy in our home. For Stella. For giving me family.” A soft warmth filled my whole body at my husband’s soft confession. I carefully pulled my head from his chest and peered up at him softly, “Oh baby. You don’t have to thank me for that… It was just a part of your decision as it was mine. We’re in this together babe. You and me, it’s our family. Our little family.”

I tilted my head up and Sam got the message. Our lips met in a soft but passionate kiss. The kiss said everything. “Thank you” “You don’t have to thank me” “You’re my family” “I love you” Another wave of warmth flooded my body, making me feel cozy and warm. It was a feeling that I never ever wanted to leave my body. It was a feeling that could be caused by no one else, only my husband, the love of my life, my everything. “I love you so much” Sam murmured against my lips. “I love you too. So much more.”

Well that ending sucked… lol but there you have it! I really hope you enjoyed it! If so be sure to leave a like or maybe even a reblog!!

524 notes · View notes

helliontherapscallion · 4 years

Text

Unexpected Encounters (Adrenaline Junkie Part 8)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: minor swearing

Word count: 2,775

You walked down the now worn cobblestone path towards the main plaza of the village by Philza’s house. Whistling the first verse of the L’manberg national anthem, you wove slightly at the crowd of people gathered at the stands that littered the sides of the street.

The village was much larger than the entire L’manberg nation. It had several different precincts with a large, diverse group of people and a few hybrids living there. It also had more amenities like shops, a library (which, to your delight, grew expansively to include more books on inventions, some being exclusively about yours. They were proud people that embraced whatever fame comes out of the area), and multiple towering office buildings.

Everything’s changed since you’ve last been here a year ago. What was now more modern used to be traditional. What was loosely populated was now bustling with people. What used to be barren was now chock full of shops and apartment complexes. It was kind of jarring to see this much change in a little over a year.

In retrospect, it was jarring how much you changed in a little over a year. The hallucinations have finally almost completely stopped along with the nightmares. They only came about once a week now. You were slowly reincorporating green back into your wardrobe. Your phantom pain has retreated into your subconscious. It was always going to be with you, so you got used to the constant pain and tingling feeling. You learned to appreciate the small things in life and just live in the moment so you would have something positive to look back on in the future.

You invented several different gadgets to help your brothers win the L’manberg War of Independence such as a portable TNT launcher, handheld long-distance communication devices (which you affectionately dubbed walkie talkies since you could walk and talk! Wilbur and Tommy were not as enthusiastic of the name as you were), and a redstone powered crossbow that continuously fired arrows until you released the trigger. Though all of your inventions were practically your babies, they did not come anywhere close to trumping your magnum opus: your metal fully functioning wing.

After several mishaps and failed attempts, you finally made your wing correspond to the electrical impulses in your muscles so that it copied the movements of your flesh wing. It’s built out of a lightweight hollow iron and has feather shaped metal pieces protruding off from it to emulate your other wing. It was a sleek silver color that always caught a ray of sunshine and reflected it to another place. It was basically permanently attached to your body by now due to it being a pain to take on and off. It was just easier and more efficient to keep it on constantly.

People around you stared, some in awe and some in admiration. A stark difference from when you first lost your wing. Sometimes, you resented them for treating you differently just because your name became more widely known, but you were always a firm believer that everyone deserves a second chance. Even attention seeking, unscrupulous assholes looking for cheap brownie points from their peers because ‘I knew them before they were discovered! I knew them personally, we were, like, really close!’ So for now, you tried to ignore the ugly indignation bubbling in your gut and threatening to spew out in a string of hurtful words. You were sick of being angry, especially now that L’manberg is at peace.

You passed several people who pointed at you and whispered amongst themselves. Ignoring them, you continued onward with your head held high and your wings folded in tightly to avoid children grabbing and pulling them with their grubby little hands. It always took you a while to clean and preen them after people touched them. You hated cleaning off fingerprints and grime from the smooth metal.

Walking with a sense of purpose, you continued onwards passing multiple shops and stands until you finally reached the butcher. Opening the decorated glass door, a little bell chimed alerting the burly man behind the counter of your presence. Like the others, he stared wide-eyed at you with his lips slightly parted in shock. Great, another exhausting encounter.

Putting on a polite smile, you broke the silence of the meat shop. “Hello, I’m here to buy half a pound of fresh ground beef. Would you by chance have any in stock?” That seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

“O-of course, I’ll get that for you right away.”

He disappeared into the backroom where frosty fog rolled out in tiny clouds. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Maybe he wouldn’t ask any questions or try to get to know you on a personal level.

He returned in a hurry, slapping the wrapped beef onto the counter and giving you a price. Reaching into your wallet for the cash, you paid him generously. “Keep the change.”

“I-thank you, Mx. Minecraft.”

Putting the beef into your satchel, you gave him a more genuine smile. “Don’t mention it.”

Briskly walking out, you made a beeline for the village’s main entrance. You couldn’t stand the feeling of constantly being watched and talked about anymore. Why couldn’t they treat you like a normal person? In your opinion, you were, well, you. Nothing was special about you.

As you were about to cross the threshold of the village, you heard footsteps behind you.

“HEY! MX. MINECRAFT I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, you closed your eyes and took a few steadying breaths so that you wouldn’t lash out at this person. You just wanted to go to your childhood home and have a nice, peaceful dinner with your dad. Was that too much to ask?

Opening your eyes and plastering on a fake smile, you turned around and greeted him. He was a young boy, probably around eleven or twelve years old. His clothes and shaggy auburn hair were disheveled and he had dirt smeared on his face. “Hello, to whom may I owe the pleasure?”

He put his hands on his knees and tried to talk between gasping breaths. “Mx, my name’s Arthur Fox, i-it’s truly an honor to meet you. I’ve admired your work since before the war in L’manberg. You’re an amazing inventor and I wanna be just like you when I grow up. I- oooh I’m sorry, I’m rambling aren’t I?” He kind of reminded you of Tubbo in a strange way.

“No, you’re fine Arthur. Thank you for being a fan of my work, but I must get going. I have an important meeting to attend to.” You weren’t exactly lying to the young boy. Turning on your heel, you started to walk off only to feel a hand on your arm.

“Mx, I need to talk to you.”

“I really have to get going, Arthur. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“No, it’s important.”

You struggled to keep the smile on your face as you shrugged his arm off as politely as you could. This kid is determined. Too determined. “So’s my meeting. I have to go.” You started to walk off into the beaten forest path.

“Do you know about The Warden?”

You halted abruptly and sharply turned around. You let your smile and polite stature drop into pursed lips and sharp eyes.

“...Of course I do. Everyone does.”

Flinching slightly, he quickly recovered his confident facade. “No, that’s not what I meant. Do you know about The Warden?”

“Like I said,” you played stupid, “everybody does. Who doesn’t?”

He puffed his cheeks out in frustration. “Ugh, how could someone so smart be so stupid at the same time? I mean you met it didn’t you? It took your wing.”

You took a step forward and narrowed your eyes, fully facing him now. “How do you know about that? Who told you?”

He stepped back. “I-I heard rumors a couple of years back that it got someone. I heard your name thrown around here and there.”

You gave him enough of a warning that you didn’t want to talk, but he ignored it and now he has to reap the consequences. At this point, you were so tired and drained from everyone trying to be buddy-buddy with you that you finally snapped. The only thing you wanted was to go home, you did not need this right now.

“Well, Arthur, you shouldn’t pry into other people’s business. I’ve told you time and time again that I have to leave, yet you persist to stop me. Why? And where are your parents, didn’t they teach you any manners?”

He looked downwards and fiddled with his fingers. “They’re dead. T-The Warden took someone important to me. I… I thought you might be able to help me.”

Shit, you just yelled at a grieving orphan. You were a massive asshole weren’t you? Your eyes softened slightly and you frowned. “...I’m sorry for your loss. Is there anything I could do to make it up to you? Dinner perhaps? We can talk about how I could help you afterwards.”

He glanced up at you. “But-but what about your meeting.”

You winced. “Uh, I’m moving it forward, we have more pressing matters.” You paused awkwardly. “Do… Do you have anybody to ask permission? Any siblings?”

His shoulders drooped. “...No. I’m all by myself.”

Shit, you yelled at a grieving homeless orphan? God what kind of role model were you?

“C’mon, kid. We’re going to my house.”

His wordlessly followed you and avoided looking into your eyes. The walk to your childhood home was very awkward, neither of you attempted starting conversation. You sighed.

“Look, Arthur I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. That was really uncalled for, I shouldn’t have yelled or gotten mad. It’s just that- The Warden’s a… touchy subject for me.”

“It’s alright, Mx. Minecraft. You can make it up to me by… making me dinner and showing me some of your blueprints?”

He looked up to you with hope filled, sparkling eyes. You snorted. “It’s a deal, kid. We’re almost there.”

You could see the silhouette of the house in the nearly setting sun. It was still the same as when you left a year ago.

“Ya know,” you sighed out, “this is actually my Dad’s house. I’m just visiting him for a couple of weeks.”

“Where do you live then?”

“I live in the heart of L’manberg with my brothers.”

“That’s cool…” He trailed off. You frowned, it seems that he was nervous to meet your Dad. You probably should’ve mentioned that Philza was there to him before taking him here.

You stopped, grabbing Arthur’s shoulders. “Kid, you don’t have to worry about meeting my dad. He’s probably the kindest, most genuine man I’ve ever met. He’ll welcome you with open arms, that’s what he did with me and my three brothers. He adopted us all.”

He gave you a small smile. “Alright, Mx. Minecraft, I trust you.”

“Oh, please don’t call me ‘Mx. Minecraft’, it makes me feel ancient,” you lolled your head back and dramatically groaned out, making him giggle. “I just turned twenty, buddy. Feel free to call me (y/n).”

Putting your hand on his shoulder, you led him to the front door. You twisted the old door knob and pushed the wooden door open.

“Dad, I’m home and I brought the beef!”

He popped his head out from the kitchen, his messy blond hair flopping onto his face. He gave you a joking smile. “Took you long enough, any longer and I would’ve locked ya out.”

You watched as his eyes wandered over to Arthur. He frowned, revealing his frilly pink apron that Wilbur got him as a joke. Oh, you could just hear the gears in his head churning.

“...(Y/n), who’s this?”

Grinning sheepishly, you replied. “Dad, this is Arthur Fox. Arthur, this is my dad Philza Minecraft. I promised him dinner and somewhere to stay for the night. Do you have some of Tommy’s old clothes Artie could borrow for the night?”

He sighed, shooting you a we’ll-talk-about-this-later look. “Yes, they’re in the attic. I’ll grab them after dinner so he could shower before going to bed.”

Arthur timidly spoke up. “Thank you, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad softened and gave him a gentle smile. “It’s no problem, Arthur. And please, call me Philza. Mr. Minecraft makes me feel old.”

Arthur let out a loud laugh. Despite everything he went through, his laugh still sounds like an innocent child’s laugh. You chuckled, kids always had a silly little laugh. Philza grinned at him, a child’s laughter was something that he missed.

Arthur wiped at his eyes as his laughter died down. “I’m sorry, (y/n) said the same outside.”

“I did,” you smiled lightly at Arthur before looking back at Philza with mischief, standing up straight and putting your hands on your hips. “But I was funnier.”

“Pft, you wish. I was saying that before you were even born. So, I win because I’ve been saying it longer.”

“Whatever ya say, old man. Funniness over age.”

He playfully glared at you, placing an offended hand over his heart. “I’m not that old.”

“Ya kinda are, Dad. You’re practically turning to dust!”

He gasped. “I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am no- wait Dad, that’s cheating!”

“You still said it though!” He sang out, grinning at you cheekily.

“No, that doesn’t count!”

Arthur’s amused brown eyes bounced between you and Philza like he was watching a tennis match. Every so often, he would giggle at something one of you said. You both took your banter to the kitchen where you and Philza started to cook. Dinner was done and the table was set in no time. There was pleasant small talk as dinner neared an end

Your dad swallowed his last bite of beef and turned his attention towards Arthur. “So Arthur, how old are you?”

Arthur gave a small grin. “I’m ten.”

“Do your paren-”

You loudly coughed, throwing a discreet glare at Philza. Mouthing ‘don’t’ from behind your hand, you took a big sip of your water and stood up. “I’ll wash all the dishes. Arthur, would you like to look at some of my blueprints while we wait for my Dad to get you some clothes?”

His eyes shined with excitement. “Yes please!”

You chuckled, putting the plates in the sink and walking down to your old workshop to grab one of the blueprints you left in a filing cabinet. You grabbed the first draft for your prosthetic and the final draft for the automatic farm.

Upstairs, you situated the blueprints in front of Arthur at the dinner table. “Okay buddy, learn to your heart’s content. I’m gonna do the dishes. If you need something just give me a shout.”

Walking into the kitchen, you filled the sink with warm soapy water and got started scrubbing. You moved your wings around subconsciously as you wiped the pots and plates clean of grease. Humming in satisfaction when you were done, you dried your hands and sat next to Arthur who was looking at your designs with complete awe.

“You like them?”

He nodded his head so fast you thought it might fall off and started to fling questions at you. You smiled fondly at him, it was nice to see someone so interested in how your inventions were made and not just how they worked.

You two were mid conversation when Philza walked into the room with a bundle of clothes in his arms. You grabbed Arthur’s hand and led him up to the bathroom. You bent down and rested your hands on your knees, looking at him.

“Alright buddy, everything you need is in there, clean towels are in the closet. When you’re done, I’ll be in my room just over there,” you pointed to your door. “Last door on the left. I can show you where you’ll be sleeping for the night when you’re done. Does that sound okay?”

He gave you a gap-toothed smile. “Yes, thank you (y/n)! You’re the best!”

He closed the bathroom door and you stood there. You felt… oddly fond for the boy you just met only hours before.

Philza cleared his throat and pinned you to the wall with a stern look. “(Y/n), explain now.”

“I will, but let’s talk in my room so Arthur can shower in peace. Poor boy needs it.”

He sighed and walked into your room. You had a long talk ahead of you.

(A/N): so, how do you guys like Arthur?

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws @goldenstarofthunderclan @ravennightingaleandavatempus @dirtydiavolo @yeiras-world @immadatmostthings @hee-hee-haw @jackalopedoodles @m1lkmandan @vanhakirja @im-a-depressed-gay @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @questioning-sanity @camisascam

@bongwaterflavoredgatorade @kakamiissad @jayistrash4 @lifestylesleep @speedymaximoff @sun-shark-tooth @appetiteofapeoplepleaser @lestrangenymph @kinismanditory @dragons-lurk-here @rinzyx05 @the-wandering-pan-ace @sparkling-gayyyy @angelic-scent @shinipii @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander @izzydimensional @used-avocado @laura--444

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #sibling reader #platonic #mcyt #mcyt x reader #x reader #tw: swearing

473 notes · View notes

kurowrites · 3 years

Text

Betting On You - Part II

Hhhhh, this has been frustrating me ever since I wrote part I. Idk, idk.

Previous part

---

Wei Ying and A-Yuan spent a long time in the bathtub, making sure they were all warmed up and clean before they finally stepped out. (Well, were lifted out in the case of A-Yuan.)

Wei Ying picked out the fluffiest towel they owned and wrapped A-Yuan in it, scrubbing him dry.

When he removed the towel, A-Yuan’s hair was sticking up in all directions.

“Look at this little radish!” Wei Ying laughed as he tousled A-Yuan’s hair. “He even has little leaves!”

A-Yuan protested and removed Wei Ying’s hand, but a moment later, he wrapped around Wei Ying’s leg in an attempt to get Wei Ying to dress him.

Technically, A-Yuan was old enough to put on at least the simpler pieces of his clothing on his own, but he hadn’t been feeling well today. Wei Ying, though exhausted himself, didn’t feel it was the right moment to insist on A-Yuan doing it himself, and helped the little radish out. He got out the nice red pyjamas that Wen Qing got him for his last birthday, and wrestled A-Yuan into it.

He had just slipped into a pair of sweatpants himself when the doorbell rang. In a hurry, he grabbed his shirt and clumsily pulled it over his head as he ran to the door of the apartment.

As he should have expected, their wet, soggy laundry and shoes still lay abandoned in front of the door. Wei Ying hastily pushed them to the side as best as he could, so that he could open the door and hide the mountain of dirty clothing behind it, keeping it out of view.

When he opened the door, Lan Zhan stood in the door frame, as stoic, handsome, and well put together as ever. Wei Ying had the nonsensical impulse to check his own appearance to make sure he was decent, but that was a lost case by now. He had barely managed to slip into a shirt, his long hair not brushed out yet.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, a little more breathlessly than he’d intended to.

“Hn,” Lan Zhan replied, and held up a large pot that Wei Ying only noticed when Lan Zhan brought it to his attention. “Soup.”

Wei Ying’s eyes widened. Had Lan Zhan actually made soup for them?

That was… far nicer than anything Wei Ying had expected. He’d maybe expected Lan Zhan to bring over some instant soup or something. But on second thought, Lan Zhan didn’t seem to be the type to eat instant soup. Ever.

“Oh!” Wei Ying cried out, suddenly remembering that he’d been taught manners at some point in his life, instead of just staring dumbly at the pot. Quickly, he waved Lan Zhan into the apartment. “Come in, come in! Please, feel free to join us! It’s very messy right now, but you know how it is. I always need to make sure we’re on time in the morning, so I only really get to clean up at night. Oh, the kitchen is over here, I think the layout is different from your apartment, no? Yours is bigger.”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan slowly agreed, after taking off his shoes, careful to evade the sea of water escaping from the bundle of wet clothes behind the door, and stepping into the apartment proper. “I converted one of the rooms into a music room.”

“Right, music teacher,” Wei Ying smiled. “A-Yuan enjoys your music, occasionally. Though we don’t always hear it.”

“The room is soundproofed,” Lan Zhan replied. “I sometimes play with the window open. I apologise.”

“Don’t apologise!” Wei Ying cried as he provided Lan Zhan with a space on his stove to put the pot of soup down. “We enjoy it. Definitely better than the stuff that usually plays on the radio. Or the shit people try to market as ‘appropriate for children.’”

Lan Zhan only hummed in reply, but Wei Ying was almost sure that he looked pleased.

Heh. Even Lan Zhan wasn’t above a little self-satisfaction now and then, apparently.

“Little radish!” he called out. “Come here, Lan Zhan brought us some soup! It’s dinner time!”

A moment later, A-Yuan toddled into the kitchen and firmly attached himself to Wei Ying’s leg. But despite his apparent shyness about the ‘stranger’ standing in his kitchen, he stared up at Lan Zhan with big, curious eyes.

“Say ‘thank you for the meal,’” Wei Ying encouraged him. He might not be the best father out there, but no one could accuse him of not teaching his son some manners. Those that actually made sense, that was.

“Thank you for the meal,” A-Yuan recited obediently, though he remained firmly attached to Wei Ying’s leg and kept looking up at Lan Zhan with what Wei Ying started to suspect was awe.

It was kind of cute, honestly, because A-Yuan didn’t have too many adults in his life, apart from Wei Ying, the staff at the nursery, and rare visits with Wen Qing. It was good to have positive role models in his life, and Lan Zhan was probably as good as they came. It was also a little troubling to Wei Ying, because A-Yuan’s open admiration made Wei Ying feel like he was somehow lacking as a father. It was a ridiculous notion, because he would not want to be like Lan Zhan, but the feeling was there, still. He knew he couldn’t be everything for A-Yuan. But his emotions were not that easily subdued by reason. He knew he wasn’t the ideal choice for an adoptive parent, anyway, and that he would never be a replacement for A-Yuan’s birth parents.

“It is of no consequence,” Lan Zhan replied seriously, startling Wei Ying out of his morose thoughts. “I offered.”

Wei Ying smiled.

“It means a lot to me,” he emphasised, and waddled over to the kitchen cabinets, A-Yuan still attached to his leg. He reached for the soup bowls and started to unload everything onto their dining table.

“Want to eat with us?” he asked Lan Zhan, waving one of the bowls under his nose.

He’d honestly expected Lan Zhan to politely excuse himself and leave at the first opportunity, but to Wei Ying’s surprise, Lan Zhan simply nodded, helped with setting the table, and then sat down to join them during their meal.

And that was how Wei Ying and A-Yuan ended up eating dinner together with Lan Zhan.

It was almost surreal, to have Lan Zhan in this familiar, currently rather messy environment. But it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. On the contrary, Lan Zhan was a strangely nice and surprisingly interesting dinner guest, and Wei Ying suspected that it was due to his presence that A-Yuan was on his best behaviour. Wei Ying didn’t need to remind him even once not to play with his food! If only that happened during all of their meals.

To be honest, it was not that easy to get Lan Zhan to speak in the beginning, and convince him to tell them stories about his work as a music teacher. But he made his silence up with being an excellent listener, sometimes listening to A-Yuan’s occasionally nonsensical stories with more earnestness than even Wei Ying was able to fake. And Wei Ying had a lot of practice in faking it.

Wei Ying mostly felt grateful for Lan Zhan’s efforts, because it meant that he was off the hook, for once. He could just sit there, eat his soup, grin at Lan Zhan when A-Yuan said something particularly nonsensical, and not worry about the rest.

And when Lan Zhan finally decided to tell them a few stories of his own, both he and A-Yuan listened to him with genuine interest and no small bit of fascination. For such a taciturn man, he was a surprisingly good storyteller. A certain sense of wit shone through his every word that Wei Ying enjoyed greatly, and that had him laughing out loud more than just once.

All too soon, they were finished with their meal, and it was time for A-Yuan to go to bed. A-Yuan had already started to lag at the dinner table, and so brushing his teeth and putting him to bed was a fairly short and painless process that evening, despite the excitement that an unknown guest had brought.

Lan Zhan, on the other hand, had insisted on helping with the clean-up, and so he stayed and assisted Wei Ying with the kitchen even after A-Yuan had been brought to bed and fallen asleep. Wei Ying had to almost physically keep him from doing all of the clean-up, and insisted to wash the dishes himself.

And so they had ended next to each other at the kitchen counter, Wei Ying washing the dishes, and Lan Zhan drying them.

It was an odd situation.

Wei Ying suddenly realised that he had never been alone with Lan Zhan before that moment. Whenever they had met before, it was usually when Wei Ying was going out of their apartment block or returning home with A-Yuan. Their interactions had usually been short and to the point, and Wei Ying had elected to think of Lan Zhan however he pleased.

It hadn’t been like this.

He suddenly felt himself growing shy, which was all kinds of ridiculous, because nothing was different from before. Why was he suddenly having feelings about this?

Luckily, Lan Zhan didn’t seem to notice how the mood in the room had suddenly shifted, and continued to stoically dry the dishes and carefully set them aside once they were properly dried.

When the kitchen was clean and all tasks were finished, Lan Zhan hung up his towel to dry, nodded once to himself, and then announced, “I should head home.”

Wei Ying stifled a sigh of mixed relief and regret, and led Lan Zhan to the door of the apartment.

“Thank you,” he said as Lan Zhan slipped into his shoes. “You were a true lifesaver today. Both with the soup and for keeping A-Yuan company.”

Lan Zhan rose up from tying his shoes (who did that, it was only a few metres to his own apartment) and stretched to his full height (which was impressive, he was taller than Wei Ying). He looked at Wei Ying for several long and agonising (for Wei Ying) moments.

“No need for thanks,” Lan Zhan replied. “I would not have offered if it had been an inconvenience. A-Yuan is a good child.”

Wei Ying couldn’t help the little glow of pride and happiness that rose up in his chest. A-Yuan was the best child, and he was lucky to be his father!

He said as much to Lan Zhan, and unless Wei Ying’s eyes started to play tricks on him now, his enthusiasm was answered by the tiniest little smile.

“Good night, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, that smile still present in the corners of his mouth.

Wei Ying felt he liked when Lan Zhan said his name like that.

And then, Lan Zhan reached out, and gently brushed one messy strand of hair out of Wei Ying’s face.

“Please make sure to take care of yourself, as well.”

And with that, he turned around and left, the apartment door falling shut silently behind him.

Wei Ying stood in front of the closed entrance door for several dumbfounded moments.

Did that just–

Was that–

Lan Zhan–

He let out a garbled sound, remembered that A-Yuan was asleep, and quickly turned towards the wet clothes still piled up in the entrance.

He wasn’t going to sleep.

Might as well do some washing.

Dammit.

#kuro writes #mdzs #the untamed #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #betting on you

183 notes · View notes

erika-being-erika · 3 years

Text

More levihan reccomendations!

Part 1

• One Last Time by PiercingThePage

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

Levi & Hanji have been dating for about 3 years in highschool. He starts to have feelings for one of the pretty girls names Petra Ral. After he starts cheating on Hanji with her, he decides he wants out of the relationship. Until the day he decides to tell her, ends up being the day she tells him that she's pregnant. Will they make it out well, or will Levi start to realize he is becoming his own dead beat dad

• Having My Baby by Countess_Dorkula

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

Another SNK Kink Meme fill. Follow Levi and Hanji as they go through the marvelous adventure towards parenthood.

• catch me if you can by fanmoose12

[Multi-chapter || on going]

Summary:

The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn't deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman's cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn't help but feel something close to fascination.

No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.

Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

• Partners by fanmoose12

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

When Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed.

And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

• can't keep my hands off you by fanmoose12

[Multi-chap || completed]

Summary:

Hange, Levi and their not so secret relationship.

• Looking for You by fanmoose12

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

Returning from a long mission, all Levi wanted was to spend sometime with Hange. But instead he got a message from Erwin, urging him to come to HQ. There he found out, that Hange was missing for over a week and that his new mission is to partner with Moblit, Hange's loyal assistant, and together find and bring Hange home.

• A Tale of Two Slaves by TundrainAfrica

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

"Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn't exist. Everything's a choice. And Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him."

Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn't.

• Free-Falling by djmarinizela

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

Skydiver and tea shop owner Levi Ackerman meets the town’s resident mad scientist and tries to convince himself that he's not falling for her.

• All of Me by MannaTea

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

By the time they reached the trees, Sylvia's sides were heaving, her flanks covered in sweat-foam, but they couldn't afford to stop; two titans had become more. Hange refused to look behind her, but she could tell by the way the ground shook that one of them was at least a 13-meter class.

And all she had with her was one blade and a horse who was about to drop dead of exhaustion.1

• Dreams May Not Come True by MannaTea

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

Levihan. Hange knows something is wrong when she goes down to breakfast one morning and the smell makes her stomach churn.

• Something Like Destiny by MannaTea

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

Reincarnation AU. Zoë doesn't have dreams; she just knows.

• A Dangerous Game by just_quintessentially_me

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

A snk 1920′s AU:

Sina is wild, crowded, bursting with industry. Home to jazz, fashion - and corruption. Crooked politicians, dirty police, and powerful gangs have turned the city into a cesspit of violence where the powerful rule. At the center of the chaos are the Ackermans - one of the most powerful gangs in the city, Mayor Fritz - who is as corrupt as he is wealthy, Erwin - a police commander determined to weed out the corruption in his own department, and Hanji - a journalist willing to risk everything to expose their city’s darkest secrets.

• A Simple Choice by just_quintessentially_me

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

The rain had started up again. Fat droplets drummed over her hood, drenching the fabric. Her horse’s reins were wet and cold; though her fingers, numbed from continued exposure to the elements, could hardly feel them.

Following the sound of the explosion, they’d arrived at a clearing. It was a mess of blackened, shattered wood, and the wagon, a skeleton, was little more than a smoking husk. Beyond the wreckage, a titan lay prostrate. Felled, its limp, hulking form was barely visible through the rain.

As soldiers shouted, pointing at the creature, one of the horses still tethered to the ruined wagon, writhed. When the beast screamed a broken, panicked wail, her own horse shifted, flanks twitching with unease.

Hanji barely noticed.

The soldiers' voices, the poor beast’s screams, even the heavy, even thrum of rain - had silenced as she looked to the river.

A body lay at the edge of the dark, white-capped water.

• License to Science (And Kill) by just_quintessentially_me

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

When International criminal organization, TITAN, successfully steals an arsenal of missiles along with their encrypted launch codes, Code Blue is initiated. It up to Agent Levi Ackerman, a spy in a class of his own, and Research scientist Hanji Zoe, the premiere authority on the organization, to halt a global catastrophe in its tracks.

She lowered her glasses, brown eyes blinking over the rims. “Does this mean I have a-” One brow lifted. “License to Science?”

“No. But I do have a License to Kill. Don’t tempt me to use it.”

• Aftermath by just_quintessentially_me

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

Levi rushes to the wall in the aftermath of the Armored and Colossal Titans' attack.

“Are you worried about your wife?”

The question shocked him out of his musings.

Levi looked up, “My what?”

But the pastor was already speaking, “You’re obviously beside yourself with stress – and it’s understandable. Not knowing if your wife has survived-”

Levi cut him off, “My what?”

The pastor hesitated, apparently realizing he’d made some mistake, but misunderstanding precisely what it was. “Your…wife? The woman we traveled with before? She’s ah – forceful. You two uh – have the same, er – strident personality. When we first met, she dangled me off the wall.”

• Terrible Things by someonestolemyshoes

[One-shot]

Summary:

The first time he tells her she’s pretty, Hange is all kinds of filthy - sweaty, dirty, twigs in her hair and mud on her shoes and a great big disgusting ball of everything Levi hates.

She is also crying.

It isn’t like he’s never seen her cry before - they’re nine and crying is just what kids do, especially kids like Hange who like to play with things they probably shouldn’t play with and like to climb trees even though they’re kind of clumsy and so the crying, in it’s self, isn’t all that weird.

What’s weird is that Hange - Hange, with her print-smudged glasses and ratty ponytail and clothes two sizes too big for her - is crying because a boy called her ugly.

• Acquiescence by 3LevisInATrenchcoat

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

On Judgement Day, the tide brought someone strange.

• My soulmate by a_golden_hearted_snk_fan

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

When your soulmate gets injured or hurt, their injuries show up on your skin with a slight sting then slowly fade. It was a rare thing to occur, but Levi and Hanji were the lucky ones.

• SOS by djmarinizela

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

Levi is a reclusive senior student who shares an apartment with Mike, Nanaba, and his best friend, Hange, who he's secretly in love with. Oddly enough, they also belong to the same secret club with a special operations squad. The 104th cohort is a bunch of freshmen misfits they've taken under their wing, Moblit is Hange's lab partner also vying for her affections, while Erwin’s the newest instructor who doesn’t know how to teach. And they say school is fun.

• the moon is dark by alteirkay

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

His face was wet.

“What the hell?” He murmured touching his face to see if he was mistaken. He was not. His hair was damp with sweat. There was an uneasiness invading his whole body. He was filled with it like he had drunk it straight from a bottle. His chest was heavy, his breaths were uneven, and his right eye was throbbing like a hammer was hitting at it continuously.

He was feeling like he had just lost someone.

• The Experiment by KakashiSensei

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

After a public brawl between them, Commander Erwin confines Captain Levi and Zoë Hange to barracks. When the Survey Corps next heads out, they are left behind as a punishment. Soon bored out of her mind, Hange turns her scientific curiosity towards the most interesting specimen within her reach: Levi. When his past reaches out to him to claim him back, she joins him on a dangerous journey. Do budding feelings have a chance in the most desolate of places?

• windmill by alteirkay

[One-shot]

Summary:

Here is the thing about Levi, his heart is a windmill in the middle of a wilderness where there was no wind to make it twirl, there was no wind to make it beat, pound and feel. Just feel.

Until one day he got hit by a storm so wild, so rare and so incredibly terrifying but in the most beautiful and breath-taking way that it left him defenceless, vulnerable and weak. Like a tiny little flower which had long passed its day of blossoming in a fierce, winter dawn yet it stood erect with its fragile body, challenging against the merciless winds and the brutal frost.

He fell in love.

• In Your Shoes by Neighborhood_Nori

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary

Levi, Paradis Studio's strict ballet instructor, can't stand the newly hired hip-hop instructor, Hanji. As a ballet dancer with his own complicated history with hip-hop, Levi only has respect for the more refined forms of dance. Can Hanji change his mind about her and her style of dance through determination, persistence, and her passion for dance?

• Distractions by Rookblonkorules

[One -shot]

Summary:

Hange’s love for pop culture interferes with her and Levi’s work.

It’s annoying.

• Leave You Whole. by zerothecreator

[One-shot]

Summary:

Levi spends his last moments in Hangë’s arms.

• Moments by Anonymous

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

Levihan Modern AU

She's a long-legged, sun-kissed beauty with tattoos in hidden places and multiple piercings.

Her leather jacket's on his bedroom floor, her ripped jeans too and she's pretty sure one of her heeled scarlet boots got left in the living room in their haste last night. At least her glasses are on top of the bedside drawer- they managed that, at least.

• more baby snacks by argethara

[One-shot]

Summary:

Levi tries to find out how and why boxes of Udo's biscuits are gone.

• Anniversary by EllePellano

[One-shot]

Summary:

AU One-shot: Erwin and Levi have a short conversation about the woman they both loved

• All We Are by TundrainAfrica

[One-shot]

Summary:

"We’re what’s left of the old survey corps Levi. We’re all alone.”

“We can’t be alone if there’s two of us.”

“So what do you suggest Captain Levi?”

“We stick together…” Levi answered. “We stick together, Commander Hange.”

During the time skip, Hange and Levi's relationship develops.

• Thin Ice by Xenobia

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

Takes place between events in chapter 90 of the manga. Hange, now commander of Survey Corps, commissions Captain Levi to scout territory in the mountains to search for a supply tower she believes may still be stocked. The scouts need all the supplies and currency they can get in order to carry on with their goals. Against his better judgment, Levi joins her on this excursion. The bitter, early winter makes their mission harder than expected, however. The pair find themselves relying on each other to survive, and they find it increasingly difficult to treat one another as comrades in arms and nothing more.

• Hidden Meanings by WhatHistoryForgets

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

Hange never thought a materialistic item could mean so much to her until she lost it.

• Of teacups and stale bread

[One-shot]

Summary:

Five times Hange prepared tea for Levi, and the one time that he did.

• Unintended Consequence(s) by Ella3982

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

Not all of the Anti-Personnel Control Squad died when the cavern collapsed. Some of them escaped through the tunnel Hange, Moblit, and Armin used. When the two parties meet, the Anti-Personnel Control Squad takes the three Survey Corps members hostage with the intent to force the Survey Corp's hand. However, when they find out that Kenny Ackerman has died, they become more desperate.

If the Uprising Arc had ended a bit differently, how would it alter the course of the story? What would change, and what would stay the same?

• A Fire in the Shadows by free_pancakes

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

LeviHan in an Avatar the Last Airbender AU - a side story occurring alongside the events of ATLA

Levi, the nephew of a fire nation captain, stumbles upon a ragtag group of 5 known as the Scouts, formidably known for foiling the plans of local fire nation control, living in the forests a few miles north of Ba Sing Se.

• Speak Your Dark Pleasures to Me by Lamia of the Dark (VisceraNight)

Summary:

A collection of drabbles and oneshots exploring a sexual relationship between Levi and Hanji.

• Tips & Tricks by Sleepyheadven

[One-shot]

Summary:

Eren’s brow was furrowed forward in confusion as he spoke. “I thought you said that staring at people isn’t nice?” He said after a few moments, gathering his thoughts. He seemed genuinely bewildered as to why she was intensely staring down a stranger when she had told him countless times before that it was impolite to do so.

Oh, lord, was her only thought as she quickly scrambled for an excuse. “I - Uh - well, sometimes people stare at other people because -” before she could even begin to form a proper sentence, Eren interjected. She wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or dismayed by his actions.

“Is it because you think he’s cute? My friend Ymir stares at my friend Krista that way all the time, she says it’s because she’s so pretty!” Eren babbled happily, oblivious to the way Hange’s grip around the handle of the cart tightened. Her brown eyes darted back and forth between the stranger and her son, hoping that he couldn’t overhear their conversation seeing as Eren wasn’t the softest of speakers.

• A drunk man always tells the truth by krissixh

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

Levi finds out that Hanji is engaged to a rich man. He gets drunk that night and confronts her his feelings. The two have to confront a lot of difficulties to be able to end as a couple.

• Relapses by Oreotragus

[Multi-chapt || completed]

Summary:

Despite having become a great asset to humankind, Captain Levi still has some trouble adjusting to his post-crime lifestyle, especially the social aspects of it. One extremely badly coordinated step out of his comfort zone creates a grand mess that he has to clean up.

• Weight of Survival by otterbeans

[One-shot]

Summary:

Hanji gives birth to Levi's unintentional child. She pretends to be surprised when he shows up for it.

• Don't drink the kool-aid by smallblip

[One-shot]

Summary:

Think of a number between one and ten. Because that's how you love in this world. First you toss out the word love. You tell it to its face that Commander Erwin Smith says “love is the ultimate cult of men... A sect... A dirty ploy by the whatever god is up there to make us all vulnerable..."

And then, everything falls into place.

• until another thursday evening by pinkweirdsunsets

[Multi-chapt || on going]

Summary:

and ever since they were only five, Levi had protected her, whether it was from the daily shenanigans she came up with or the criminal background he came from. She was his sunshine, messy and grinning, and he shielded her away from all terrible things.

until zeke yeager came along.

• Make It Make Sense! By cznpai

[Multi-chapt || completed]

I can't add the summary cause I've reached the limit. Welp i still have a lot of fics here so ill make a another post of reccomendations... HAHA bye!

#levihan #levi x hange #levihan oneshot #levihan fanfic #levihans #pls tell me if i putted the wrong link #guess im gonna make a part 3 👁👄👁#i thought all of them will fit in here #guess im wrong lol #k bye!

325 notes · View notes

even-after-a-millennia · 3 years

Text

So Much in a Word

This fic is to fill the prompt for @yusufalkaysanibingo a different meeting for Joe and Nicky! You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here.

Joe-centric fic with Joe/Nicky | Rated M | ~5.4k words

Yusuf al-Kaysani was fifteen when his future was foretold.

He was in the farmer’s market with his mother, picking up ingredients for a herb mix to help his father’s cough when a hand shot out from between the stalls and clamped down on his arm. He yelped and spun around to face the person who had grabbed him.

The woman’s face was made of wrinkles but her eyes were clear as she stared at him. She sighed, her hand gentling on his arm, her thumb rubbing the soft skin near his elbow.

“Poor boy,” she murmured.

“Are you alright?” Yusuf asked, worried for her and for himself. He could feel the power surrounding the woman. He glanced at his mother, who was watching the exchange with narrowed eyes, though she didn’t step in. She could probably feel the importance of this interaction, her own ability to see moments of change flaring.

“My dear one,” the old woman continued, and Yusuf’s attention snapped back to her, “you will live a life blessed with love. You will find the man who will uplift you and support you no matter the adversity. And you will bring him ruination.”

Yusuf froze, staring at her.

No.

No, it couldn’t be true.

He couldn’t even focus on the fact that he was destined to love a man, something he had suspected of himself for some time, but that he would be the one to ruin him?

Impossible.

The woman’s hand retracted, but he flung a hand out and clung to her fingers.

“Please, please take those words back. I cannot- I will not,” he stuttered, desperate.

“Oh, habibi,” she murmured, her free hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “I know. My gift can be the opposite, and to give such a radiant soul such news is not easy. Remember my words, Yusuf. For you are blessed and cursed and only those words will set you free.”

Yusuf blinked, and she was gone.

“Yusuf?” his mother asked, her dark brown eyes full of concern.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Can I leave you to collect the rest of the ingredients as I go home?” he asked through numb lips.

“Of course, my love. I’ll be back soon,” she said, pushing him homeward.

He walked home in a daze, but the second his foot crossed the threshold of his home, he snapped to attention.

No.

He would not do it.

Not if he could help it.

And he could.

He went to the family’s workroom and found it blessedly empty. Going to the table strewn with ingredients, a pestle and mortar, and more books and pieces of parchment than he could easily count, he began pulling materials towards him, going on instinct alone. He had been practicing magic under his parents’ tutelage since he was a toddler. He had watched his father create tinctures and weave his ability to heal into charms, had seen his mother make decisions before the moment had arrived, her ability to see changes around her allowing her to avert burns and arguments, save money and receive more. But he had not only been taught by them, but also by his teachers at school, learning the basics and, more recently, more advanced techniques of everyday magic that didn’t require a special ability to achieve.

While he might not know his ability yet, he knew enough how to make a talisman. He just hoped it would be enough.

He wove his magic into the strands of the bracelet and put the ingredients he needed into the charm that would hang from it. While he had seen his father chant incantations as he crafted talismans, he couldn’t bring himself to speak, his heart in his throat. All he could do was hope, and say in his head, “Please don’t let me hurt him, please don’t let me hurt him, please don’t let me hurt him,” repeatedly. He knew he was using too much of his magic, darkness starting to creep into the corners of his vision, but he pushed everything that he had into the bracelet.

Even as he faded into the dark, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret his actions.

It was worth it to save him.

His mother returned from the market twenty minutes later to find Yusuf unconscious in the workroom, the completed talisman clutched in his hand.

She sighed, because though she had seen this coming, it was no easier to have her vision actualized. Prying his hand open, she wrapped the bracelet around his wrist and fastened the clasp.

Yusuf stirred, his eyes blearily looking up at his mother. His head flopped to the side and he saw the bracelet around his wrist.

He smiled. It was weak, but it was there, and it broke his mother’s heart.

“I did it,” he whispered triumphantly.

Then he once more fell unconscious.

_________________________________________

Joe was engrossed in his book as the train trundled along the track, rocking him side to side in his seat. He was soothed by the gentle movement, grateful for it’s relaxing motion. Friday’s were his longest day on campus, with three different lectures and office hours, and he was exhausted.

He had never seen himself becoming a professor when he was young. But when he had been prophesied to ruin his soulmate, he threw himself into magical study. There was so much to learn and he wanted to know all of it, in the off chance that something would be able to change his fate. It had turned out that he was a quick learner and that he had a knack with teaching others his findings.

He had a way with words. He could never put his personal power in a better way. Nothing else pinned down the nuances of how he could use words to pin down a point, educate succinctly, highlight how he was feeling.

But no matter how much he thought of the prophecy that changed his life, he couldn’t find a way to change their meaning. To change what would happen should he find his soulmate.

So in the meantime, his talisman rested against his pulse point, reassuring him.

Fifteen-year-old Yusuf hadn’t known what he was doing when he had created it, but apparently, he had done it well. At age thirty-three, he had yet to meet his soulmate. Or more likely, given the charm, he had and would never know it.

That was the charm's ability. It blocked him off from his soulmate. Joe could pass him in the street, their eyes could meet, and they would pass each other as strangers.

It was better that way.

He felt the tug in his chest that sometimes bothered him, letting out an involuntary flinch before he rubbed the area absently as he read on. The pains had become more frequent as time went on, which he chalked up to his body rejecting the effects of the spell upon him. It wasn’t natural to work against his soul’s call, but he would rather deal with random pains than the agony of ruining his soulmate.

“Scusa, are you alright?” a quiet voice asked him.

“Hm?” Joe hummed, pulling himself from his book to look at the man who had addressed him. The man had sandy brown hair and multi-colored eyes Joe couldn’t pinpoint from the distance, with a beauty mark on the right side of his face, near his jawline. He was looking at Joe with concern.

“Are you alright? You seemed pained,” the man said again. He had an accent that Joe thought might come from a romantic language. Perhaps Italian?

Joe blinked, finally focusing. “Oh, apologies. It’s nothing, just a reverb of a spell long ago. Can’t be helped,” he said with a reassuring smile.

The man frowned. “Do you like chocolate?” he asked abruptly.

“Yes?” Joe asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I make foods, infused with health and well wishes, if you would have one. The chocolates are all I have on me at the moment. It could help relieve your pain,” the man said. He started rummaging in his bag.

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t know how efficient they would be on me. It’s an ongoing issue, you see,” Joe said. In the past, he had tried many ways to help curb the side effects of his talisman, but none had helped. He had gotten to the point when he would be irritated with the person offering a seemingly effective cure for his ills. But for some reason, that irritation wasn’t present now.

How odd.

“Ah. There is nothing that can be done?” the man asked. He didn’t have that pitying look on his face that many did when they heard that, just one that was understanding and somewhat resigned.

“I’m afraid not,” Joe said with a little shrug. “I appreciate the gesture, however. I’m Yusuf, by the way. You can call me Joe, if you like.”

“Nicolò, though many of my colleagues call me Nicky,” the man replied.

“Pleasure to meet you, Nicky,” Joe said, reaching across the aisle to hold out a hand.

Nicky shook it and withdrew.

“Is that book good?” Nicky asked, gesturing to the book Joe had been reading. “I have seen it many times, but not read it myself.”

“I’m enjoying it. The author has a way of immersing the audience into the book, making you forget your surroundings, as you saw. I’ve taken to only reading it when seated. I wonder if that is their ability. They certainly chose the right profession if so!” Joe said with a laugh.

“I’ll have to pick it up the next time I come across it,” Nicky said.

“I would recommend it. So what do you do?” Joe asked.

“I run a remedial bakery and restaurant. There are many who need healing, so I am baking and cooking most of the day to feed those that come to me, as well as sending my goods across the world. There never seems to be enough time,” he finished quietly, almost to himself.

It was then that Joe noticed the dark circles below Nicky’s eyes.

“Hey,” Joe said gently, leaning forward and looking Nicky in the eye. “Every single person you help is one less person who is in pain. There will be more, but don’t discount the work you have done. It is enough.”

He could feel his power flowing through him, and saw Nicky blink.

This time, Nicky put a hand on his chest. He looked down startled. “What- how did you do that?”

“What is that?” Joe asked.

“I… It suddenly feels like it is easier to breathe. How did you do that?”

Joe relaxed. He had been worried that what he’d said had hurt the man. “I just used the right words, I guess. And you seem like the kind of person to carry the hurts of others around with you, long after they are gone. Was I right?”

Nicky regarded him. “Have you eaten?” he asked Joe.

“Not yet,” Joe replied, taking his non-answer as an answer.

“Would you like to eat with me?”

Joe smiled, somewhat relieved that he had not offended Nicky with his observation. “Yes, I would like that.”

He was intrigued by this man, whose heart was pierced by the pain of strangers and whose eyes were the color of a tumultuous ocean. He could enjoy getting to know him more.

Joe was always ready to make new friends.

They ended up at a Thai restaurant that was close to Joe’s place.

Once they were seated, Nicky turned to Joe. “I forgot to ask, what is it you do?”

Joe smiled. “I’m a professor, specializing in the intricacies of magical intent and their outcomes.”

Nicky blinked. Joe was used to that reaction when he said his profession. It wasn’t a common one. In fact, he had been offered so many positions when he had graduated with his doctorate that he had needed to phone his mother for advice on which school to choose.

Having a mother who could see the possibilities of choices had been a blessing throughout the years.

He hadn’t regretted his choice yet.

“I did not know you could get a doctorate in that,” Nicky finally said.

“Well,” Joe said, trying to not appear too proud, but sometimes it was hard to not let himself feel his accomplishments, “before me, no one had. Not precisely, anyways.”

Nicky blinked again. Then his slight frown cleared and he gave Joe a small smile. “That’s very impressive,” he said.

Joe felt himself flush, then cursed at himself for it. He knew it was, but it was different to hear it from Nicky.

Nicky sat forward, his elbows splayed and hands clasped on the table. “Tell me more?” he asked.

Joe felt a little stunned at the request. Usually on the dates he had gone on with people who were fine with casual dating, no soulmates required, they hadn’t been interested in the finer details of what he had spent years, decades at this point of his life, learning and honing.

He cleared his throat, then began. He kept talking even as their food arrived and then spoke between bites. Nicky asked attentive questions, focusing in on details that Joe had glossed over because that would be another ten minute long explanation. Joe kept checking him for signs that he was bored with what Joe was saying, but Nicky was leaning in, nodding along in places, the corner of his mouth quirking when Joe mentioned some of his failed experiments. His eyes rarely left Joe’s face and Joe found himself stuttering more as he described his studies to Nicky than he had since his first year of teaching.

“And after this conversation, you could probably get at least a Master’s in the theory of magical intention and conclusions,” Joe said jokingly as he finished.

Nicky hummed, taking a spoonful of his soup with a pensive look on his face. “I think that I could use some of those principles in my cooking and baking, to expedite the process. You may have just saved me a lot of effort with that talk, professor,” he said with a smile.

Joe smiled back, trying to cover how flustered he felt. “Of that, I’m glad.”

They finished eating soon after and Nicky insisted on taking the check. “I need to pay you for your lecture somehow, sì?” he asked.

Joe laughed. “I’ll allow it.”

They walked outside, pulling their jackets closer as a cold wind blew down the street. Joe saw Nicky shiver and found himself asking before he had really thought it through, “Would you like to come back to mine for a cup of coffee? It’ll warm us up and we could continue talking.”

Nicky looked at Joe and he felt like he was being scrutinized. This man’s full attention was a powerful thing in itself, let alone his strong shoulders and angular jaw.

He suddenly felt awkward for asking. There were certain protocols for interacting with other people that were usually based around how much someone cared about saving themselves for their soulmate or not. There were those who wouldn’t be in a relationship until they felt that connection, the spark of their soul connecting with another. There were others who didn’t care to wait and didn’t. And then there was Joe. Who was deliberately avoiding his soulmate.

But no one but his parents knew what the charm on his wrist was for, so he usually was put into the second category by people who met him. Which was fair, he’d had casual relationships and flings with people before.

He wasn’t really asking for anything from Nicky here, though. He didn’t know how to say that without it becoming more awkward.

“I could drink some coffee,” Nicky said finally.

Joe relaxed.

They walked the blocks to Joe’s small house side by side, their shoulders knocking together here and there. Their surroundings changed from the small stores and restaurants to a residential area. They continued on until finally Joe stopped at a wooden gate.

“This one is mine,” he said softly.

He didn’t know why, but he wanted Nicky to like his home.

Joe watched as Nicky looked at the small house with its garden overflowing with plants for ingredients and random nick nacks that he couldn’t help but buy. The house itself wasn’t big, only one story, with sand colored stone siding. There were stained glass pieces hanging in the window, catching the rays of the sunset.

“Oh, Joe,” Nicky breathed, looking at it all. “It’s wonderful.”

Joe felt that same embarrassed pride from before. He knew that, he did, but it was just. Different. Hearing it from Nicky.

Joe waved his hand, unlocking the wards protecting his house, and opened the gate. “Come on in.”

Nicky stepped through behind Joe and followed him up the path, stopping to look at the windchimes hanging from the roof. Pieces of sea glass sparkled in the glow of the sun and the chimes rang as another cold breeze rustled past them.

Joe opened his front door and Sable’s black face and yellow-green eyes met him before she ran to her scratching post and began to claw at it to show her joy he was home.

Then his cat saw there was company and froze, then lowered herself to the floor.

“It’s okay, little one. This is Nicky,” Joe said, taking off his shoes and gesturing to his companion. “He’s a friend.”

Sable wasn’t convinced and scooted across the room towards his bedroom.

Joe turned to Nicky. “Sorry about that. She has a hard time with newcomers.”

Nicky shrugged. “I won’t take it personally. I am in her space, after all.”

Joe smiled at him. Not everyone handled Sable’s aversion to people as well, and Joe appreciated it.

The coat rack took their jackets and they stood there a moment, Nicky looking around Joe’s home. Joe didn’t adhere to any particular style, unless comfortable counted. His couch was overstuffed, with colorful pillows adorning it and soft blankets draped over the back for quick use. He had many pieces of art hung on the wall, some of which he had done himself. His desk in the corner of the room was cluttered at best and disorganized at worst. But altogether, it was his home.

“Alright, coffee,” he said once Nicky had looked his fill. The hallways had more art, as well as pictures of family and friends, hung on the wall. Nicky looked at them but didn’t stop as they made their way to the kitchen.

Joe reached into a cabinet and pulled out his Moka pot. Nicky grinned at him.

“Why do I feel like I just passed some test?” Joe joked.

“You did,” Nicky replied, his eyes sparkling. “Top marks, professor.”

Joe gestured to one of the chairs, which pulled itself away from the table. He was glad of the fact he had to turn his back to Nicky to get the coffee going. His face felt very warm. “Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” Nicky said as he sat. “I wanted to ask, what was your pull to learn more of magical intention? It seems like such a niche subject, based on what you told me. There must be a reason.”

Staring at the brewing coffee, Joe contemplated whether it was worth telling Nicky. He kept the prophecy to himself. Not even his friends knew the truth behind why he hadn’t found his soulmate yet. And yet, he found himself opening his mouth.

“Do you remember that spell I said had repercussions to this day?” Joe asked.

“Sì.”

“When I was fifteen,” Joe said, keeping his eyes on the pot, “it was foretold that I would be blessed with love. And I have been. My parents have been wonderful and supportive throughout my entire life. I have many friends who lighten my days, colleagues who make me feel valued, and students who appreciate my work to educate them.”

He sighed.

“I was prophesied to have a soulmate who would be with me through adversity and uplift me through life. And I would bring him ruination,” he said, his voice going flat and cold at the last sentence.

The house rumbled around them, the floorboards creaking and the windchime growing louder as it shifted more violently.

Joe took a deep breath and let it out and as he did so, the house settled. It had accepted him as its owner and was therefore connected to him. When feeling a strong emotion, he could expect some kind of reaction from the house.

Pouring the finished coffee, he brought the cups to the table and set one before Nicky, not looking at him.

“I went home and created a talisman. I was fifteen, knowledgeable but not enough. But I had belief. And desperation. So I poured everything I had into creating it, so that I may never hurt him.” He took a sip of his coffee, much too soon, and grimaced as it burnt his tongue.

His free hand was clenched with nerves. Lifting his fist, he showed Nicky his adorned wrist. “So far, it’s worked.”

Finally, he lifted his head to look at Nicky.

And met eyes filled with tears.

“Joe… you are a very kind man,” Nicky said, his voice rough.

Joe snorted. “It was a no win situation. I did what I could.”

“No,” Nicky said, reaching out and placing a hand over Joe’s as it held his cup. “You succeeded. At great personal cost. I assume there were aftereffects?”

Joe hummed in affirmation. “Random chest pains. More frequent as time goes on.” He smiled grimly, his eyes tearing up. “I think my heart is rejecting being blinded from its companion. I don’t know how much longer-” He cut off, already saying too much. He hadn’t even told his parents what he had just revealed to Nicky.

He had known that there would be repercussions to cutting himself off from his soulmate.

He just hadn’t known at the age of fifteen that he would be slowly killing himself.

“Oh, Joe.” Nicky stood, and stepped closely to him. “Can I hold you?” he asked hesitantly.

At Joe’s nod, Nicky’s arms came around his shoulders and neck, cocooning him. Joe wrapped his arms around Nicky’s stomach and buried his face into his chest. Letting out a shaky breath, Joe felt a lot of the stress from this damning secret leak out of him as he melted into Nicky’s embrace.

Nicky pressed his cheek into the curls on the top of Joe’s head, then tilted his head up so they could look at each other. “I can help. Maybe my ability could mitigate the effects. Give you more time.”

Joe considered. He had surrendered himself to the inevitable, he realized as hope bloomed in his chest. He could have more time.

“I… I would like to try,” he said.

Nicky smiled, a small and fragile thing. But Joe found himself answering it with a smile of his own.

He hadn’t felt as safe as he did, protected from the world by Nicky’s arms and body, in a very long time. Probably since he was fifteen, moments before being grabbed in that marketplace.

Yes, they barely knew each other. But Joe felt a connection to this man, unlike anything that he had felt before. And Joe had just laid out his ultimate truth before Nicky and he had met it unflinchingly. Not only that, but he wanted to help.

As their smiles faded, neither of them looked away. Nicky’s arms released Joe until his hands were cradling the back of Joe’s neck. Slowly, Joe rose, his hands lowering from Nicky’s back to his hips.

He leaned in and whispered, “Is this okay?”

“That depends,” Nicky said, and Joe could feel his breath against his lips. “What is this?”

Joe thought. “Connection?” he said finally.

“Ah. Well, then yes. It is okay,” Nicky murmured, pulling Joe in with the hands on his neck.

Joe’s eyes slid shut the moment that their lips connected.

At first, it was just a gentle press of lips, hands resting on neck and hips. Then Nicky tilted his head a bit more to the side and nipped at Joe’s lower lip. Joe let out a shuddering exhale and leaned further into the kiss. They languidly explored each other’s mouths as their hands began to wander. Joe’s hands slid up Nicky’s spine to feel his back muscles move under his hands.

Then Nicky’s hands reached Joe’s ass and he squeezed as he pulled Joe in, pressing their lower bodies together.

Their kiss broke as they both exhaled shakily at the sensation.

“Bedroom?” Joe whispered, wanting to make sure they were on the same page.

Nicky nodded, his nose brushing against Joe’s as he did so.

Joe smiled, taking Nicky’s hand and a step back. Nicky followed close behind him, a wall of warmth at his back.

There was no sign of Sable as they entered the bedroom, but Joe left the door open in case she needed to exit while he was otherwise preoccupied.

“Would you sit?” Joe asked Nicky when they reached the bed.

Nicky did, and Joe stepped into the space between his legs. He caressed Nicky’s cheek, his neck extending as he looked up at Joe. Joe was unable to resist ducking his head and pressing a kiss against the skin there, just below his beauty mark. The hum Nicky let out urged him to continue and Joe pressed kiss after kiss into Nicky’s neck. He reached the taut line of muscle on the right side of his throat and sunk his teeth into it.

Nicky’s hands tightened against his hips and he let out a shaky breath.

Joe released him and stepped away a moment to push Nicky’s legs together, before sitting on his lap. Nicky met him with a kiss that stole the breath from Joe’s lungs.

He felt Nicky’s fingers fiddle with the hem of his shirt and he regretfully pulled back so that he could be divested of it. While they were parted, he pulled Nicky’s shirt up and over his head as well.

Pausing, he took in all the new skin that had been laid bare.

Nicky was strong, but his muscle wasn’t defined like Joe’s was. Joe enjoyed going to the gym in the mornings after Fajr, whereas Nicky’s strength seemed to come from working in a kitchen, kneading dough and lifting boxes. A casual strength, rather than a deliberate one.

Joe’s hands slid up Nicky’s arms, over his shoulders, and down his chest. He could feel Nicky’s hands on his exposed back, feeling his shoulder blades. Joe pushed gently on Nicky’s chest and he lay back on the bed, Joe following him down until they were pressed together from their lips to their toes.

They tried to keep as much contact as they could while taking off their pants and underwear, which made it somewhat awkward. After Joe’s elbow found Nicky’s side, making him give out an “oof,” their eyes met and they began to laugh together.

Then there were no clothes between them and the laughter left them.

After, Nicky flopped off the top of Joe and let out a breathless huff.

“Mother of God, Joe, I think you ruined me,” he groaned.

Joe froze. “What did you just say?” he demanded, post coital bliss abandoned at the sound of that word.

Nicky cocked his head and repeated, “You rui- oh, Joe, I’m sorry. That was a horrible choice of words.”

No matter how much he thought of the prophecy that changed his life, he couldn’t find a way to change their meaning.

For you are blessed and cursed and only those words will set you free.

It couldn’t be… could it?

“Nicky,” Joe said urgently. “When I was told the prophecy, the woman said that only the words would set me free. I have been trying to think of other meanings behind the words for over half my life. You don’t think- I mean, could it?”

Nicky’s eyes were wide as he stared at Joe.

“I, I don’t know. It would be wonderful if you weren’t to ruin your soulmate in the traditional sense, but who knows what the intent of the prophecy was?”

“Nicolò,” Joe said, raising a hand to caress his cheek. “You do realize that in this scenario, you would be my soulmate, right?”

Nicky stared at him, then he shot upright, his hand holding Joe’s to his face. “How could we know?”

“Well…” Joe said, his gaze falling to the wrist with the talisman around it. It was on the arm that Nicky held, and slowly, Nicky relaxed his hold until their hands lay clasped between them.

“Nicky, if I’m wrong and the word rings true, but you really are my-” Joe couldn’t even finish the sentence, overwhelmed at the implications behind it.

Nicky’s free hand cupped the back of Joe’s neck and pressed their foreheads together.

“Then we will face it together,” he whispered fiercely. “Whatever may come next. I’ve been looking for you a long time. My soul doesn’t wish to be parted from yours any longer.”

Joe’s chest throbbed and he winced. Nicky must have felt his flinch, because he tightened his grip on Joe, as if by holding him close, he could protect him from any pain.

“My heart, my soul, my very being wants to be with you so badly that it pains me. But… I’m afraid. I will not survive being apart from you, Nicky, but I couldn’t if I destroy you either,” Joe admitted.

“Yusuf,” Nicky said, his eyes shining. He lifted their hands and pressed a kiss to Joe’s knuckles. “You are worth it.”

Joe’s eyes were so clouded with tears that he had to feel for the clasp of his bracelet. Nicky’s hand stopped him.

“May I?” he asked.

Joe blinked, and his vision cleared slightly as tears began to roll down his cheeks. He reached up and pulled Nicky into a slow, soft kiss before he rested his forehead against his.

“A man who will uplift me and support me no matter the adversity,” Joe whispered into the small space between them. “I could ask for nothing else.”

He felt Nicky let go of his hand, then his fingers against his wrist.

Joe closed his eyes.

Nicky undid the clasp and pulled the bracelet free.

And still, Joe could not open his eyes.

“Whenever you are ready, Yusuf,” Nicky murmured.

Uplifting. Supporting. Nicolò.

Joe took in a breath, pulled back from their forehead touch, and opened his eyes.

His breath froze in his lungs.

He had known this man before this moment, he knew that. He had seen that beauty mark, those eyes, those shoulders. He had felt Nicky’s skin against his own.

But it all felt new.

This, this was the moment that stories were made of. The first contact between soulmates, when the connection snapped into place. The moment that said that this, this person, was significant. Vital.

“Nicolò…” he breathed, reaching out and stopping just before he made contact with his face.

Nicky closed the last hairsbreadth of space between them and Joe felt an ache in his chest, totally different from that which he had felt when cutting himself off from Nicky. His soulmate. It was a feeling of relief, a loosening of a band long wrapped around his chest, until he felt like he had taken deep, filling breath for the first time in eighteen years.

“Hello Yusuf,” Nicky said, smiling at him, his cheek resting in Joe’s palm.

“Hello Nicolò,” Yusuf murmured. He let his thumb caress the line of Nicky’s cheekbone. “I have not breathed so easily in nearly twenty years.”

“I’m glad of your relief.”

“I’m glad that it’s you,” Joe countered. They weren’t arguing, but it needed to be said. “You, who wanted to help a stranger in pain. You, who has already uplifted and supported me, before we knew we were connected. You,” he continued, his voice turning softer but his free hand started to slide up Nicky’s thigh, “whose kiss thrills me and whose body I wish to learn like my own. I am so blessed, Nicolò, that it is you.”

Their lips met once more and every brush, every touch of their hands, every thrust felt like a revelation.

Like a curse made into a blessing.

Like being set free.

_________________________________________

“Ya Allah!” Joe exclaimed later, shooting upright in bed. “How am I going to tell my parents how we got around the prophecy?!”

#joe x nicky #kaysanova #the old guard #magic au #soulmates au #fanfic #my fic

120 notes · View notes

syndxlla · 3 years

Text

Part ten of the More To Love Series

Summary: The ball is tomorrow night and preparations are in full swing in the Mandalorian Palace. In desperate need of a break from all of the Masquerade planning, you get away from the palace for a few hours. This gives you a chance to reflect on your relationship with the Knight, learn more about his past, and grow closer with Koska.

Word Count: 10.9k, NO ‘Y/N’

Warnings: SMUT (handjob, grinding, this is like actually sort of gross if you over think it so just don’t over think it thanks <3), THIS IS EXPLICIT, 18+ CONTENT, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Swearing. Mentions of: blood, scars, fighting, hand-to hand combat.

IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: insight of recent events surrounding my tumblr, I have added an additional in-text warning for the smut scenes. This will continue for future chapters for those who do not wish to read the explicit scenes of More to Love.

Author’s Note: HEY, it’s been a little while, huh? Happy to be back. THANK YOU FOR 1k FOLLOWERS HOLY CRAP!! You all mean so much to me and the support of this fic is unlike anything I could have ever asked for! Also... the smut in this gets,, nasty. Like not that bad it isn’t super kinky or needs lots of warnings it’s just... like gross if you think too hard about that so do me a favor and don’t overthink it haha. OKAY LOVE YOU ENJOY

Part Nine

“No, If you keep that elbow down it will throw off your balance.”

“Okay, what if I hold it like this.”

“No it will get more tired faster.”

“Well how long do I have to keep it up like this?”

“Until the song ends!” You sigh, your fingers coming up to hold your eyebrow out of frustration. You and the Knight have been in the library for nearly an hour trying to learn how to waltz together and if you didn’t know any better, you’d guess he had two left feet. He was starting to get the hang of it, though. Slowly but surely and through a lot of trial and error but you don’t have very much room to talk because an hour before this one, he was just as frustrated with you because you couldn’t swing at him with nearly enough power needed to make some damage on anyone. This is how you’ve spent your last two evenings with the knight. The two of you sarcastically bullying one another in learning the opposite’s art. It was already Friday, the ball was tomorrow and you weren’t sure if he was going to be able to pull it together in time. The worst part is that you haven’t had anytime privately with him to do your... usual antics. There was always someone with you, usually Korkie or Koska, or the dance and fighting practice took up too much time to really have any fun.

The palace has been bustling the last two days. Every servant has had a task they were always doing, there was no down time for them which meant lots of downtime for the Royals. If there was no one to set up tea, then there would be no tea, simple as that.

Because of the high workload put on the staff of the palace, each royal has been subject to dinner in their own rooms alone this week, which was a dream come true for you. Dinner was your least favorite time of the day because of how painful it was to get through socially. And it also meant you got to spend more time with your own thoughts. You still aren’t sure what to do about the marriage, especially since you’ve admitted to yourself that you think you are falling for the beskar-clad knight who stands watch outside your door.

Even Soniee has been spending less time inside your quarters pampering you (you could really use a bubble bath). At all hours of the day, there was either a team of butlers carrying large bouquets of flowers down ornate hallways, a chef interrupting your dress fitting with Soniee and Koska to have you try another flower-flavored mousse, or an immediate meeting with the Queen to learn about some of your guests who will be at the masquerade and how to properly greet them. One time yesterday, you were asked to review the lanterns they picked out for the garden decorations. You were so indifferent to the ones they picked that the servants actually sent you back inside out of frustration. Along with the controlled chaos of preparations, the mask making has still left you feeling guilty. Just this morning you caught a glimpse of Koska’s shaky hands that had clearly been pricked by one too many needles while sewing jewels into the Queen’s mask. You must have apologized too much because she eventually got snarky and asked you to quit saying sorry about it. As much as you would like to dance with your knight with others looking on, you weren’t sure if it was worth all the pain and labor others were putting themselves through for it.

Party planning was exhausting, and on top of all of it, you needed to teach the most uncoordinated man in the kingdom how to waltz. It genuinely baffled you how he was able to be so methodical and perfect in hand-to hand combat and in bed but can barely hold his own in situations such as these. There was something charming about that flaw, however.

Now, the golden sunlight of the aging day was pouring into the towering windows of the Mandalorian library. It had made the room warm, and showed just how valuable the knight’s dark skin was as his bare hands soaked in the rays. You caught yourself staring at them a few too many times, which to your dismay, he caught you doing.

“You’re staring again.” He says while the two of you are practicing the basic 1, 2, 3 waltz step. Your eyes jump back to the emotionless visor of the beskar helmet which looked down at your face. You didn’t even realize you were looking at your hand holding out to the right, studying the way his knuckles looked and how clean his fingernails were.

“Sorry… It’s just that dancing is usually an emotional thing, you’re supposed to play off of eachother I suppose.” You shrug, stopping the dance. You realized you had been searching for something to play off of, anything, even if it’s just the calloused fingers of a hard worker.

You wouldn’t think the two of you would be so far behind and underprepared but for a majority of these rehearsals you’ve been the one leading as he figures it out. You know how bad it would look if you were the one leading tomorrow, and you’re starting to lose hope that you’re going to pull this off. You had wished you started teaching him earlier, but knew that he would have never agreed before now.

“Princess, you do realize that you’re probably still not going to see my face if we dance tomorrow.” He drops your hands. You sigh, you did know it, you just didn’t want to admit it.

“I know… when do you take it off?” You couldn’t remember if you had asked this already. Maybe you were out of line for asking, but a piece of you didn’t care, you deserved to know.

He was quiet, he always was when you asked him something personal. Maybe he was hoping you would get the idea by now…

“When I eat, when I sleep… sometimes around my son. Sometimes around other guards.” He said as he walked towards one of the library windows. You followed him, a few footsteps behind. He stopped at the glass, his reflection disturbing the pristine scene outside. You could see the beach from this window, not as well as in other parts of the castle, but the horizon of the Mandalorian sea was still in view. Your reflection came up behind his. You could see the exhale of his lungs from the shift in armor weight.

“I understand if you never want to show me.” You said. You didn’t really believe that, but you did respect him, and because of that you had to accept the reality that he may never show you. Maybe you were just trying to convince yourself that. You walk a little further to him and stand up on your tippy-toes so that you may rest your chin on his shoulder, looking out at the world below. It was so peaceful from up here. You’ve only left palace grounds once in the last two weeks and you desperately want to again. Being cooped up inside an oil painting was getting exhausting. “I want to go somewhere.” You mutter, your arms wrapping around his waist to hug him from behind: a pure and innocent act of affection.

“What?” His helmet turns to the side just a little bit so that you might hear him better. “Like… the Garden? The Parlor?”

“No!” You chuckle against his pauldron, “Outside, I want to get out of the palace again.”

“Did you forget what happened last time we went out?” He asks meditatively. “We can’t risk anything happening to you before tomorrow, The Queen would be furious, and even worse, Koska would be too.”

“Of course I didn’t forget! I’ll have the scar to always remind me” You giggle at his remark. “And besides, I-I want to go to the water.” You step out from behind him to look out at and gesture to the gentle waves against the golden beach. “I’ve been on a sandy beach before.” You clear your throat.

“We… might be able to arrange that. How about we go on Sunday? After the ball?” He attempts to negotiate.

“Or we could go now? There’s no formal dinner tonight.” You suggest.

“Your parents are coming in tonight, along with a number of other guests, not to mention Grand General Vizsla, all the Royal Guard is to be presented to him at nine.” He groans, but you were determined to convince him. You really needed a break from all of the planning, fittings and tastings.

“So? It’s barely five! We can just go for a little while!” You say as you look at the grandfather clock that sits nestled between two bookcases. You weren't feeling very optimistic, you doubted he would not budge, he’s always been so stubborn. “I can repay you…” You bite your lip. You were also incredibly horny and remember overhearing a maid back home talk about sex on the beach. It had always excited you.

He sighs again.

“Please? For me? I seriously deserve a break, so do you.” You reach out to stroke his hand. You knew that would probably work, it has before.

“Fine-“

“Really!?”

“Yes, but we have to tell Koska just so they don’t think we’re missing again.” He turns to walk out of the library. You silently congratulate yourself on getting the most unmovable and obedient man in the galaxy to go against his orders and do what you want. You happily skip behind him. “It takes a while to get all the way down to the beach so we should probably take a horse.” He says on the move. “Do you know how to ride?”

“I’m royalty, of course I do… do you?” You revising a teasing eyebrow.

He scoffs at your question, “There is much you do not know about me.”

“Well, you make it sort of hard for me to learn.” You roll your eyes playfully. He elbows you in the side, knocking you off your balance. You attempt to do the same to him, nudging him right back but not even getting the boy to budge and hurting your funny bone a little against the Beskar.

It takes you two a few minutes of complete silence and portrait-perfect stature to get all the way down the palace into the servants quarters. The only other time you had been in these narrow, stone hallways in the ground level of the Mandalorian Castle was earlier this week after Korkie begrudgingly led you back to your quarters in a wet peasant gown and a stinging bicep.

By the time the knight and yourself had made it down here, he was leading you through the maze of corridors, past helmetless knights who all nodded out of respect as they passed you, and into a wooden-arch. The room you had entered into must have been the servant’s common room, because it was about the size of the dining room. A candle-lit, wooden chandelier hung over four long tables, unlike the glass and oil-lamp chandeliers in the rest of the palace. A large fireplace burned on one wall, illuminating the room more and several small, gothic-arch windows towards the ceiling allowed warm light to pour into the cozy hall. Several handmaidens bejeweled masks at one table, twice as many sewed the bases of the coverings at another. One table showcased all of the finished designs, which depicted extravagant bird beaks, colorful fox and wolf snouts, towering cat and rabbit ears, ornate peacock tails, sharp antlers and horns on some and even incredible tusks on a few. They were all breathtaking, and while you felt guilty for making so many staff members work double-time, you appreciated their handy-work in making your dream come true.

The fourth and final table was mostly empty, a few elderly and child servants ate potato soup at it, and one maid cleaned her finger-nails at the opposite end. Everything was so simple and normal, it was such a display of controlled chaos that almost made you forget about the corruption in Mandalore… almost.

A sharp whistle rang through the room, and immediately, everyone dropped what they were doing, stood up swiftly from their seats on the long benches that paralleled each table, and turned to look at you before bowing deeply and diligently. They hadn’t even noticed you were there at first and interrupting their normalcy was not what you intended to do, but then you caught sight of who it was that sang the whistle. Koska Reeves was walking through the bowed, silent heads to you and the Knight. She looked exhausted, her hair was down and over her shoulders instead of pinned up in the intricate braids she usually wore them in when she was around royalty. The amount of fly-always was distracting but you couldn’t blame her, she would not disappoint the Queen with her work, even if that meant looking a little rough and disheveled.

“What’s the meaning of this? All royalty is supposed to be approved before coming in here.” She says to your knight chivalrously, then turns to you, “This is no sight for you, princess.” Something told you that she wasn’t only referring to the activities taking place in the common room. “I am sorry for our disorder.”

“No worries, Lady Reeves. There’s no need to apologize. I am most impressed by the work done on the masks for tomorrow.” You gesture to the table with the completed designs.

She sighs and smiles, “Thank you.” She nods before turning around, “Carry On!” She calls out to the room and everyone returns to normal as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, as if you weren’t even there. There was something you liked about that, something that reminded you that even though you have a lucky bloodline, you’re human too, and not all that different from the workers in this very room. Their daily routine was fascinating to you. “What do you two want?” She hushes her voice and drops her “right-hand woman to the queen”, first lady-in-waiting and head of the Mandalorian royal staff persona. She’s now the same brash friend you two shared.

“We want to go out for a while, it’ll just be a few hours but we knew we needed to tell someone in case anyone notices that we’re missing.” The Knight nods, explaining the situation. She raises a questionable eyebrow.

“Absolutely not, we cannot risk anything happening to her before tomorrow night.” Your heart drops.

“That’s what I said, but she’s incredibly convincing.” He shrugs, tilting his head just enough to show the extra bit of emotion. Koska looks between the two of you, her hands perched firmly on her hips. You caught sight of her hands again, which were now bandaged tightly with the same white gauze that she wrapped your cut arm with earlier this week. You wondered if that was done to dress bleeding wounds, keep the shakiness from over-working and late nights in control, or a dreadful mix of both. A terrible feeling told you it was the third.

“Vizsla is going to be here.” She raises an eyebrow, her intimidating demeanor hasn’t gone away even after she’s become aware of your little secret (well, actually massive, life-altering, “how-the-hell-am-I-gonna-fix-this?” secret). “If you aren’t here, that could result in a court-martial from the Queen herself.”

“Sounds tempting.” He replies.

“You and I both know what’s going to happen to you and your little boy if you step out of line, even once, which is why I’m guarding your scandle so close to my heart.” Her voice get’s real quiet when she says that, and he shifts his weight. Your heart drops, what in the world could she mean by that? “You know what could happen to you if I accidentally slip something, that’s why I won’t cover for you.”

“What the hell does that mean?” You whisper. She glances at you and then right back to him.

“Wow, you really haven’t told her much, have you?” Koska’s arms move from her hips into a fold over her chest. He doesn’t respond.

“Told me much about what?” You ask, worried about whatever was going on that you didn’t know about. Every day you’re reminded about how much of a stranger he really is to you.

“All she knows is that I had an old job, that’s all she needs to know.” He bites back, his voice equally hushed.

“If you’re fucking her, she deserves to know a lot more, but that’s just my opinion.” Koska chuckles once and you blush red hot. “I mean, at least tell her your name.”

“Why is this happening here? Now?” He gestures to the very crowded room. “Look, we just want to go down to the beach for an hour at the most. We’ll be back long before Vizsla gets here. You won’t have to cover for us, I swear.” He tries changing the subject but your mind is racing with the possibilities and confusion of the conversation you were just welcomed into.

Koska looks between the two of you a few times again, carefully considering what’s on the table and the risk. “Fine, one horse. I mean it, only one because if two are gone, someone will notice and then I’m gonna have to do exactly what I told you I wouldn’t do and what you said I won't have to: cover for your ass. Get out of here.” She beckons her head to a door that leads outside as a smile spreads across your cheeks. “Djarin! Don’t be late!” She calls out as you begin walking. That’s the second time you have heard that word, both times uttered from Koska’s mouth. Something wanted you to believe that might be his name but you were far too scared to find out for your own. You would try to remember it this time.

The knight leads you out of the room, and you watch Koska over your shoulder as you follow, studying the way she stood still immediately after you walk away, taking a few deep, sharp breaths and then promptly returning to her work. You wondered if she was tired, remembering that not everyone who lives in the Mandalorian Palace has the same relaxing lifestyle that you have.

Despite the aging daylight, it was still deathly hot. The heat of summer bled onto your shoulders, which were still partially covered due to the scarring cut in your muscle. The clothing only added to the heat. The part of the Castle grounds you were were foreign to you. They weren’t the beautiful, lush and trimmed gardens or breezy courtyards you usually spend your afternoons in, no. It was dark, the tall height of the palace shading the courtyard where knights sparred and a pair of little servant girls chased one another. One wall that lined the courtyard was the horse stables, and another was a blacksmith. The golden light shone through the stables, and you were able to spot the four white horses that took you and Korkie to Keldabe earlier this week despite the beasts being backlit.

“You can ride, I’ll just walk.” He says as he guides you to a palomino, a tall horse with a Caramel body and pure white mane.

“Are you sure?” You ask, not wanting him to have to walk.

“Of course.” He says as he mindlessly bridles the horse, petting him on the nose a few times. “Do you prefer a saddle?” He asks. You nod, and he swings the seat over the back of the steed.

“Does this horse have a name?” You ask, reaching your hand out to pet his neck a few times. The horse nickers at your touch.

“He likes you.” The Knight chuckles. You smile at the statement, and continue to stroke the soft hair on the neck. “Clove.” He says, his voice velvet and full of caring. The knight knew this horse. They had a bond. “Here.” He holds his hand up for you to hoist yourself onto the saddle. You were in no way dressed for riding, and the saddle wasn’t even a side-riding seat, but you would make it work. You knew that on the palace grounds you would have to ride side-saddle, it’s customary, and how you learned. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t ride regularly. The horses back home in Corellia were massive beasts, animals suited for harsh winters and heavy amounts of snow, thick fur covers their ankles so that they can trudge through deep snow and pull sleighs. The Mandalorian horses were far more majestic, more like show horses than work horses. Clove was gentle, though, that was something that wasn’t common for the strong horses up north. He didn’t move a muscle or bat an eyelash as you heave yourself onto his back, adjusting yourself to sit properly, the knight’s hand holding yours tightly as you positioned yourself and then rearranging the heavy skirt of your dress to properly cover your legs. His plan grazes your shin as he does it, and your eyes immediately catch the visor of his beskar helmet. You liked to think he was looking at your eyes, too. The moment is so still, time freezing for half a second.

He starts to walk the horse out of the opposite side of the stable and into the field behind the palace. You could see the tree line of the garden from here. The bridle was tightly wrapped around his hand as he led the two of you out of the palace and into the hot, hot sun. This was the first time you’ve ridden a horse in a very long time, and you had almost forgotten how much you loved it. A cheesy smile was on your face, and your eyes cycled from the mane of the horse, the shoreline ahead, the back side of the ornate castle and the top of the helmet of the knight. The sun reflected off of the beskar, causing a bright illumination to shine on the bodice of your gown. He walked methodically and quietly, and you wanted to start a conversation with him but it didn’t feel right.

Comfortable silence is often overlooked, something taken for granted that is really only shared between two trusting people. You aren’t sure if you’ve ever experienced a genuine comfortable silence with anyone before. Being a royal has a lot of “fine print”, one of which being that no one ever shut up. Korkie isn’t the only self-centered, talkative royal in this world. The thing that sets Korkie aside from the rest is the fact that you’ll have to deal with it intimately for the rest of your life.

There was something wildly attractive about the introvert by your side. Because he was few with words, it caused you to seek them out, and cherish what little you did get. He was warming up to you, opening up and every time you get a moment alone with him, he says a little more. Your conversations now are very different from that first night in the castle when he helped you untie your corset. All he said originally was “Goodnight, Princess”, and now he’s telling you about the stars and teaching you how to fight and defend yourself. The idea that it’s happened too fast has crossed your mind several times, but you considered that when you’re alone with someone almost all day, every day, you’re bound to get to know one another quicker than usual. However, you’ve also been afraid that you came off too harsh, maybe you jumped into it all too fast and overwhelmed him. What if he’s only complying to the relationship because he’s obligated to through his duty? You had to admit that there were a number of insecurities surrounding your friendship, you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t think that. Maybe you felt that way because you relied so heavily on him to get away from the other boy in your life who you can’t escape no matter how hard you try. Was it entirely possible that the knight feels about you the way you feel about Korkie? That very thought made you sick, your stomach twisting and preventing you from enjoying the beautiful landscape ahead.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. He noticed that you had tensed up. You silently curse yourself for not hiding it better.

“What?” Your look down at him, forcing a false smile. He was looking up at you now, his hand resting on your knee. Your eyes move from where he holds you and back up to the visor on his helmet. “Oh… nothing.” You hum.

“You are a fool if you think you can hide anything from me.” He tilts his head and your cheeks burn with blush. You sigh, knowing you should tell him. The chances are that expressing these concerns to him might give you a piece of mind… or they could do the exact opposite. You aren’t sure if you can take the emotional weight of resenting two men who you admire. You admire them for entirely different reasons, however. You admire Korkie for his dedication to his kingdom, and you admire that he’s genuinely trying his best. However, you admire the Knight for his kindness, his patience, his protection. You admire his velour voice, his plush lips, and the way he touches you. You admire that he’s a father, that he’s split his dedication between his duty to his kingdom and his duty to his son. You admire his deep chuckle, and the way he kisses you, the way you can see him laugh when you shoot him silly faces during dinner. You both admired and was frustrated by his obedience to his creed. He kept promises, no matter how life-altering they may be.

As you reflect on all the reasons he meant anything to you, you felt a sense of peace. It was better, the feeling in your stomach, that is. You decide it is right to tell him, you recall your governess explaining to you that all good relationships are built on enthusiastic communication, and you wanted your relationship with the Knight to be considered ‘good’. You sigh and then speak up, “I just…” You take a sharp, deep breath in the middle of your sentence before speaking up again, “just lots of insecurities, I suppose.” You shrug.

“Insecure- about what?” He asks.

“Everything, but especially us.” You didn’t really want to have this conversation, but you knew you had to.

“May I ask why?” His tone was sincere.

You aren’t sure how to reply at first. “Is it too fast? Am I too much?” You ask after careful consideration of what you were going to bring up first.

“What? No.” You think this was the first time he had ever replied immediately after you ask him something. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know-“

“Yes you do… tell me.” He reassures.

“Our personalities are different, you’re quiet and stoic…”

“Is that… bad?”

“No! No, not at all. Royals just aren’t that, and I worry if we’re compatible enough. And don’t mistake me, I admire that about you, but I fear I’m too much for you.” You sigh, shaking your head. Clove nickers again as if he’s listening in on your conversation and chiming in. He doesn’t respond right away which you’ve gotten used to, but if it was any other situation you wouldn’t be overthinking it. You can’t take the silence anymore and speak up, “And there’s the added factor that I’m totally cheating on Korkie with you-”

“-If I thought you were too much, do you think I would let you teach me how to dance?” He interrupts. The words halt in your mouth, and you look at him almost dumbfounded. “Or do you think I would be teaching you how to defend yourself? Fucking you on a royal sofa in an un-locked room? Risking my title to take you to the beach?” He almost sounded… angry? Had you offended him for thinking that? Your legs tensed up on the horse, and you regretted everything you had said. He did have a point, you hadn’t really thought of that.

“I… suppose you’re right.” You mutter.

“I don’t have to be doing any of this,” He grabs your hand, holding it in his and uses his other hand to halt the horse. The three of you pause in the field between the beach and the castle. There had been a downgrade so you were mostly hidden but you could still the upper-towers of the palace. He looks up and you, and you find yourself wishing you could see his eyes again. “But I do because I’m… fond of you.” It sounds like he’s having a hard time getting the words out, but that isn’t very uncommon for him. Your heart flares up, this was the first time he had ever admitted anything like that.

“W-what?” You ask, sounding like a fool.

“I know, it’s crazy. How could a halfwit like myself deserve a Princess like you?” He chuckles under his breath. “Maybe the elf laid a spell on me, I don’t know. But I do know that ever since I was given the duty of protecting you, my life has been different.” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “I’ve… I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I don’t know what it is but I-I-“ You smile fondly, and use his hand to hop off the horse. You bring your hands up to hold the back of his neck.

“It’s not a spell.” You whisper. “I feel it too.”

“Then it’s a spell on both of us.”

“Maybe.” You move your hands up to his helmet, desperately wanting to remove it, but you remember what you told yourself the other day. If he wishes to show you his face, it should be his choice, he deserves to be the one to take the beskar off. You would respect that. Instead, you just run your fingertips along the lip of the helmet, looking into the visor enchantingly. “Then it would be a wonderful spell.”

His hands find their way to your waist, hugging you to his chest. You rest or head on his shoulder and just close your eyes, feeling his chest plate move with each breath. It’s so still, the summer breeze softly runs through the tall grass. You can hear the waves gently hugging the beach, and the two of you just stand there like that. Completely alone, the only companionship being one another and a mindlessly-grazing horse. No one to interrupt. No doors to lock. No Princes to lie to. No thieves to fight. Just the two of you. If you could stay in that moment for the rest of your life, you would. In the earlier days of your relationship, you used to worry you wouldn’t like what his face looked like, worried that he might be unattractive to you. But every selfish desire you had about his physical appearance dissolved with the wind. No matter what he looked like, or what his past was, or what his name was, you didn’t care. You didn’t care because he cared for you, and you cared for him, too.

Before you can soak in the moment any longer, you’re swiftly grabbing his wrist, and tugging him towards the beach. The stillness of the moment is lost, but you’re quickly giggling as he’s chasing you down the small slope to the beach. You pull your skirt up as far as you can so you don’t trip on it, and find yourself being unable to slow down before the hill meets the shore. The soil slowly becomes more and more sandy, and your feet are bolting against uneven land towards teal, clear water. Before you can reach the ocean, however, strong hands are wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against the Knight’s chest. You can hear the low rumble of chuckling in his throat, and you have the biggest, dorkiest smile of all time on your face. He spins the two of you around a few times before setting you back down on the beach.

You’re out of breath from running, and your hair is already untidy from the unexpected change of direction. The wind blows it just softly, letting it pull away from your face and neck. He tucks one rogue strand behind your ear, and then cups your face. You hadn’t even realized he’s been gloveless this entire time. You close your eyes and rest your cheek into him. You turn your head ever-so-slightly to kiss his palm, laying a sweet and innocent peck to his calloused skin.

You wonder if he’s hot with all that armor on. If you were too warm with a dress, only he knows what it’s like to have to spend summers so formally.

He’s the one to pull away, walking towards the water. You follow him, and the two of you stand against the tide. You kick your shoes off and pull your dress up again. Stepping into the water. You giggle at the tickle of the sand and smile at the feeling of the warm water against your ankles. He watches you fondly with his arms crossed. The water in Corellia is never this warm, and you throw your head back in bliss, breathing in the salty air. This was the happiest you had ever been since you arrived in Mandalore. The break from all the rules and customs was very needed, and you soaked in the sound of the waves, a distant call of a gull, and the wind keeping your hair out of your face. The best part was the fact that you were experiencing it with the Knight. There is no other person you would rather spend this memory with. You bite your lip and close your eyes and you never want to leave, you want to stay here forever. You hear the sound of metal clinking behind you, and something heavy hitting the sand. You turn to look at the Knight, who had discarded most of his armor. His boots have been carefully set next to one another, and beside them were his pauldrons, wrist guards, thigh plates and breastplate. The chainmail was the next thing to be removed, leaving him in only the dark-brown underclothes. His trousers were heavy duty, covered in various pockets and made out of thick material, but his tunic was a thin material, still long sleeved, but flowy, allowing the fresh, summer breeze to run through the fabric. The two items of clothing were held together by a pair of black suspenders, and the entire ensemble made him oh so… human.

You had only seen him with all his armor on before, and witnessing his shell being removed was both humbling and inspiring. The armor added quite a bit of bulk to his stature, it rounded out his shoulders, boosted his posture, and broadened him out. That was the first thing you noticed about him on the first day you arrived, he was ample in size and it made you feel so primal and safe. Despite his smaller stature without the armor, he wasn’t one bit less attractive to you. He was still the same guy who you were slowly falling for and didn’t even know it. But as he cuffed up his trousers and rolled back his shoulders, you felt so comfortable in his presence. He wasn’t just a mass of armor and creeds and rules, no, he was just a man. He was a single father, a guy who doesn’t know the first thing about dancing, and a boy born across the world in the Nevarro frontier. He was just a man.

You couldn’t stop the warm feeling in your chest that came with this thought. Everything about him was far more simple than you initially thought.

He walked towards you, and you held out your hand for him to take. He laces his fingers with yours as he steps into the shallow water with you. Your dress drops, dipping into the water and getting wet but you can’t even be mad about it. Your smile is big as his hand tightly grasped yours, the two of you looking out at the horizon.

“When I was a boy-” he begins, his voice quiet, “I wanted to live on the sea. Join a ship crew and travel the waters. There was always something so adventurous about that thought.” He shares. You turn to look at him as he speaks, studying the contour of the helmet with your eyes.

“What stopped you?” You ask, not entirely sure if he would share, but this time he was the one to start the conversation, and you felt like he might this time.

He sighs, you see it, he turns to look at you, the two of you staring at one another as the temperature slowly dropped with the sun on the horizon. “I was orphaned when I was only five.” He shrugs, your heart breaks. “It was one of the Mandalorian wars that caused it.”

You can’t imagine what it’s like having to serve a kingdom so intimately when they were responsible for the death of your family. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, letting him know that you’re here for him. “I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“It’s not your fault, it was so long ago I don’t really remember it.” He looks down at the water.

“Thank you, for sharing that with me.” You smile apologetically. You really did appreciate that he felt comfortable enough to share something so serious with you. While you were grateful that he had begun to open up to you, it still didn’t answer any of the questions about Mandalore’s past, and what Koska was referring to a few days ago. It didn’t tell you what his past job was and why he’s serving the royal family now. However, you supposed it didn’t really matter, not right now, not today.

After a little minute of listening to the waves, he reaches down into the water, picking up a flat, thin rock. He runs his pointer finger along the edge, outlining the shape before hatching it into the space between his index finger and thumb, reeling back, and flicking it out so it hopped over the water’s surface seven or eight times before falling in. You looked at him enchanted, like he had just expressed a magic trick to a bright-eyed child.

“How did you do that?” You ask in awe.

“You’ve never seen anyone skip a rock?” He asks. You slowly shake your head. You’ve been cooped up inside a wintry castle your entire life, of course you haven’t.

“Teach me.” You say a little too forcefully. He chuckles and looks down at the sand, looking for a pebble that might work. He bends down eventually, and picks out a similar looking rock to the original.

“So, you want a rock that’s thin and flat, like this one.” He shows you the sediment. You reach your hand out, taking it and outlining the edge of the stone with your finger similar to how he did. He walks behind you, sloshing in the water but eventually gaining position. He wraps his left arm around your waist, and cups your right hand which holds the rock in his. “Now, don’t throw it quite yet, okay?”

“Alright.”

“You’re gonna flick your wrist like this,” he motions both of your hands at the same time, pulling back and then shooting forward quickly. He does it two or three times before speaking up again. “You’ll use your pointer finger to pull back like the trigger on a crossbow, it will give the rock enough spin that it stays on top of the water.” He makes you do the motion along with him a few times again. “Your shoulders will draw back almost like you’re pulling back an arrow on a bow.” Again, he does the motion with you, your back flush to his chest. You admired that he was able to relate everything to weaponry. He definitely knew his way around combat, that was apparent to you. “Then, you add all three motions together, aim for the horizon, and-“ he pulls back with you and before you know it, the rock is spiraling out of your hand and onto the surface of the ocean. It doesn’t skip, though, and instead plops right into the water.

You frown and look back at him. “What did I do wrong?” You ask, you knew he would know what needed to change.

“You didn’t flick your finger enough. Try again.” He pulls another stone out with a grunt, and holds you against his body to pull back and send another rock out. This one skips once before plopping into the water again. You sigh out, frustrated. “Here, try without me.” He says after handing you a third flat stone. You carefully practice the motion once, desperately wanting to impress him. You then pull back and give it everything you got, only for the stone to plop in without skipping at all again.

“Ugh, lemme try again.” You say angrily. You can hear him laughing at you, but you ignore it, ready to try again and determined to get it right this time.

You must have thrown four more rocks after that with no results. Each time he tried giving you just a little more advice about different things, “Follow through” or “You had too much spin that time”. You were starting to get really frustrated, having never had to really work for anything in your life before, and you knew he was starting to have a hard time finding flat rocks. You would not give up on this.

“Maybe we can try again next time-“

“No.” You say forcefully, ��We do not leave this beach until I skip a damn rock, so if you want to be back in time for your evaluation with Vizsla, I suggest you find me another rock.” You raise an eyebrow as you pull out your diplomatic royal voice. He holds his hands back in defense and then tosses you the stone he already had waiting for you. You sigh when you catch it, taking a deep breath and remembering all your training. Don’t spin too much, follow through, add all three motions together, have faith.

You pull back the stone, praying that it will all go according to plan because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take failure. You pick out your target with your eyes before adding together all the advice given to you and sending it. You can hardly believe your eyes when you see it skip at least five times over the water. You cheer out in accomplishment and look over at the Knight, smiling big and triumphant. He runs through the water to you, shouting with you.

“I knew you could do it!” He grabs your waist, congratulating you. You giggle out of achievement. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He asks.

You roll your eyes and playfully punch his arm (which luckily this time was not covered by pain-inflicting chainmail). “A lot easier than having to dodge your hits.” You admit.

“I’m proud of you.”

“It’s just a rock skip?” You wonder why he would be proud of you for that and ask yourself if you really are that pathetic.

“Yes but you put your mind to it and did it! I know some guys in the royal guard who would have given up on their third try, but you didn’t!”

“I was just trying to impress you.” You sheepishly chuckle.

“We’ll consider myself: Impressed.” He laughs and you blush.

“They don’t teach royals that.”

“Well of course not, I learned how to do that from the guy who took me in after my parents died. You picked it up much faster than I did.” He nods and you smile again.

The two of you catch your breath from the exuberant laughing, but you aren’t able to enjoy the still moment because all too quick it all comes crashing down quickly when he’s pushing you into the water. It isn’t very deep, but the unexpected soak makes you yelp out in surprise. Your initial reaction is to be frustrated, but you can hear him chuckling by your side and you can’t help but mischievously smiling in response. He’s standing, still dry with a hand over his stomach as he laughs at you. You roll your eyes before reaching up to pull him in with you, he yelps out stupefied as he’s splashing down into the tide next to you. You laugh out at him, sitting up in the water which is about waist deep. He wipes some water away from his visor and then splashes you, swatting a handful of the ocean at your face. Your laughing immediately halts from a mouthful of salt water. Your slight makeup washes off, and your hair is starting to get wet, too. You look over at him with a frown before copying his action and spraying him right back. He laughs at you, and you remember that you can’t win this. He has a helmet to keep his eyes clear from the water. You groan out of frustration, and wipe your eyes dry. He’s just looking at you, panting. His clothes were soaked now. You crawl to be closer to him in the water, which thank goodness it wasn’t too cold because you’d be rushing to get out, but the summer weather made it enjoyable to just sit there together.

[SMUT BEGINS HERE]

You’re next to him, running your fingers lightly up and down his right arm, looking at him fondly. He catches his breath, and brings his wet hand up to cup your face again. You close your eyes, hoping he takes the hint, which he does because a few seconds have your eyes are closed, his arm his pulling away from your touch against it and his lips are pressing into yours. You can tell he completely took the helmet off this time, which means he would take his time kissing you instead of a quick peck to shut you up.

The two of you sit in the water of the Mandalorian Ocean, both of his hands reaching up to hold you as he kisses each eyelid as if to say “keep ‘em closed”, before moving to your lips passionately. His left hand holding your cheek while his right hand finds its place on the back of your neck, pulling you into him. You breathe deeply as he practically devours you, his lips moving hungrily. Your hands find their way to his thighs in the water, running your palms up and down the strong muscle, making sure to take notice of the healing wound on his upper-thigh. Your hands eventually find their way to the waistband of his pants, running your fingers under them to pull out the tuck of the tunic. Fingernails come out of the water and up soft abs that flinch at the stroke. It’s hard to work around the suspenders, but you’re able to still run your hands over his torso, getting to know his body for the first and hopefully not the last) time. He has a few scars, you can feel the fresh tissue under your fingers and wonder what caused them. He’s still kissing you, his left hand moves down to hold your jaw and you keep your eyes tightly shut out of fear of this ending too quickly. The kissing noises are obscene, wet and needy amongst the sound of the waves. The Knight licks into your mouth, his tongue hot and forceful as it explores your mouth, you can taste the lust on his lips, and you happily welcome the sensation.

His right hand works around the way your gown has flared out in the water and eventually wraps itself around your ass, pulling you up onto his lap. You’re mostly out of the water now, just your shins being completely submerged. You’re slightly weighed down by the added weight of a wet skirt, but you sit comfortably on the guards lap, your hands coming up to wrap around his neck, kissing him from above now. The kiss is forced down, and this time you’re able to lick into his mouth, nibbling his lip and deepening the kiss further from the angle. You can’t help your hands from cupping his face now, pulling him into you.

Your noses rub into one another, and both of his arms lift you up from behind. Your back arches into him, and your breathing hitches, getting heavier and hotter. He starts to get hard, you feel it under your body, and a mixture of the kissing and the pressure beginning to press into your cunt is really starting to turn you on. You start to just softly grind against him, moaning a little bit at the feeling of his growing cock against your heat. His hands help you, making the humping motion more smooth and natural. The kissing becomes sloppy now, and the water from the wet bodice is making your nipples just that much harder.

Your hands are reaching down to slide the suspenders off his shoulders, and then you’re pulling his shirt up and unhooking the trousers. Your hand is reaching in and finding the base of his hardening, thick length. He groans at your touch, and you’re bending down to kiss his neck, sucking deep, purple hickeys into his golden skin. You’re needy, still grinding against him and trying not let the water slow you down. He’s sighing breathy moans and grunts in your ear as you start jerking him off. The water does make it hard, but there’s something about the added sensation of the flowing water that really made it unique. You swipe your thumb over the head a few times, getting drunk with the unexpected control you have. This was the first time the two of you have fooled around that you really got to have total dominance. You liked it… you really liked.

He did too.

Your clit is able to rut so slightly and deliciously into your fist and his cock, and you’re having a hard time not letting your eyes open and flutter in pleasure. The same shocks of ecstasy ran up and down your spine, and he held you closer to his body, using his strong hands to cup your ass and knead the soft skin. You’re panting, your free hand reaches down to rub your clit, both of your hands working in between your legs as you straddle the Knight. You’re going to cum already and can’t believe it’s happening so fast but choose not to hold it back. You’re moaning out loud when you cum against your fingers, graining against his lap fast and squeezing his cock a little harder.

“Fuck, did you just cum?” He asks deep in his voice, growling in your ear. You hum out in response against his neck pathetically, and all dominance you previously possessed dissolves as you keep jerking off your Knight. “Dirty girl, kiss me. Keep those pretty eyes closed.” His throat is dry, which you remember from last time that that means he’s close, too. You reach up to kiss him again, going in tongue first and breathing in his scent deeply. One of his hands reaches around to cup yours that is working his length, holding it and adding pressure and then making you go faster, you happily oblige and soon the pace is quick and he’s grunting against your lips. He cums in your hand, you feel the heat of it. He’s panting and sighing and it’s all so hot you think you could get turned on by it again.

He rests his head on your shoulder after cumming, catching his breath. You take your hand out of the water and you tangle your fingers through his hair, toying with the curls as he sighs against your wet skin. You open your eyes now, looking out at the horizon, lashes heavy with lust.

[SMUT ENDS HERE]

“Gross.” You chuckle.

“You liked it.” He hums against your collar bone. His hands are steadfast on your lower back, holding you there against his chest. He doesn’t have the cold breastplate separating the two of you, so your hearts were pressed against one another, beating in perfect synch. You could also finally feel how warm his body was, despite the wet clothes and gentle waves. In your peripheral, you can see some of the brown curls.

Your heart warms, this might be the happiest you have ever been. The two of you must have sat like that for a long time because your skin was starting to prune and your hair was slowly drying with the wind. His breathing had completely calmed, and he was so still and quiet that just for a moment you wondered if he had fallen asleep. The sun was almost down completely, only a little sliver of it peaking over the water. You watched it as it fell to its resting place in the ocean, the sky still blazing oranges and yellows but cooling with a soft, pale blue from the top down. It was so… serene, so peaceful. Nothing like the crashing waves of Corellia. This was the best part of Mandalore yet. It’s saving grace.

The crescent moon is on the horizon when he’s turning to kiss your ear one more time and asking you to close your eyes as he pulls the helmet back on.

“We should probably get back, I don’t want to be late for Vizsla and I’m afraid I’ve started to lose track of time.” He stands up and holds his hand out for you to take. You attempt to hoist yourself up out of the water, but the wet dress has added so much weight that you can’t lift your legs up. You grunt in effort, but there’s no budging. “Huh, looks like we need to take that thing off.”

“Again?” You look up at him, you knew he had a smug smirk under all that beskar. You reach behind you to undo the corset just enough for you to step out of it, water dripping from your undergarment as he yanks you up and out of the warm water. “I’m starting to think you just really like seeing me naked.” You mutter and don’t realize how close you were to him while saying that until after. You catch your tongue, holding your breath as he looks down at you.

“Yeah, something like that.” He mumbles in response and you believe you could faint and die right then and there. He doesn’t let the moment stew for nearly as long as you would have liked for it, however and he’s pulling the sopping wet dress out of the water and carrying it back on shore. He hands it to you when he gets to his armor, and you try ringing some of the liquid out from the fabric but it’s almost too heavy for you to even hold in your arms. He re-assembles his gear on top of the wet clothes and you know that can’t be comfortable. Sand clings to your bare, wet feet, and you're desperately trying to brush some of it off before slipping your shoes back on. He’s resituated too fast, he has dressing his armor down to a perfection and you’re sad to see your beach adventure come to a close so quickly.

Before you know it, he’s walking up the hill again with you by his side, making your ways to Clove who has been diligently and patiently chewing on the grass in the field this entire time.

“Ride with me.” You ask as he helps you onto the palomino. “Please.” You ask. “We’ll get to the palace faster and then maybe you can get out of those wet clothes before you have to go to the meeting.” You ask. He sighs but then nods with a shrug, hoisting himself onto the horse behind you. You were riding normally now, and situated yourself comfortably into his chest. The wet gown lay on the back of the horse and you wished you had thought about removing that before getting into the water.

As the two of you start a gentle gallop to the palace, you feel your hair get drier. At one moment he reaches his hand up to run bare fingers over your healing bicep.

“We should have kept this out of the water.” He says in your ear. You twist your head back to reply.

“It’s okay, really. It’s starting to feel a lot better.” You reassure.

“It looks better, but the salt water can only do bad things to it.” He explains. You shrug, unsure of how he expects you to respond.

The three of you arrive at the castle just as the sky begins to darken, both of you still damp from the ocean but your hearts still full and bodies still riding the orgasm high. The Knight helps you off the horse, and now that you aren’t alone, you feel very aware that you’re only in your undergarments and really anyone could see you. You pull the wet gown off the rump of Clove, which was so saturated that it made his fur wet. You hold it against your body, trying to cover yourself up as much as possible. The Knight removes the saddle of the horse, storing it away and removing the bit. He stretches the beast’s ears and then walks over to the far side of the stable to grab a carrot out of a bucket before handing it to Clove as a reward for his hard work. You watch him as he expertly takes care of the animal, like he’s done it a thousand times before.

Then, with no warning, the two of you hear the shrill voice of none other than Koska Reeves.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.” She’s crossing over the dirt courtyard to the stables. Her hair has been done now, put up into the customary braids they usually are in. She was now wearing the royal blue color reserved for the Queen’s court, a golden sash sitting on her hips. She held the dress above her feet and she hustled in your direction. You felt scared, you knew Koska meant business, and was not afraid to scold. She was intimidating, to say the least. “You’re soaking wet.” She gasps when she gets to the stable fence. “Come with me, Princess. We must get you changed before anyone sees you or the Queen will have my head.” She sighs, opening the gate for you to walk through. “As for you, Vizsla��s here early.”

“What.” You heard the drop in his voice from panic. “Why?”

“No one knew, he just arrived before we could do any regular welcoming. The evaluation is starting in ten minutes, I suggest you move your ass.” She shakes her head. You were incredibly thankful you had both rode Clove now. He wouldn’t have made it back in time if you hadn’t. You did feel a twinge of guilt, however. You shouldn’t have pushed for that so much and risked him missing his mandatory meeting. But an overwhelming part of you was more than happy that you got to experience those few hours alone with him. He swears under his breath before bowing to you, shrugging apologetically and then full sprinting towards the servant quarter’s entrance. “I would take that from you,” Koska says in reference to the wet dress, “But I’m already in my ceremonial dress. I can’t get it wet. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I can manage.” You nod. The two of you begin to walk back inside, and the night time breeze runs over your wet body, making you shudder ever-so-slightly. When you get back inside, the Knight is nowhere to be seen, and there’s only a fraction of the people as there were earlier. The masks had all been moved somewhere, which let you know they finished them. A mother sat on a chair by the fireplace, nursing a small baby and three young boys who couldn’t be any older than seventeen all sat around one table playing some type of card game and eating buttered bread. They were the stable boys. The three of them stared at you when you walked in, in awe of your unparalleled beauty and the fact that you were carrying a massive, heavy, wet dress.

Koska led you down a hall adjacent to the fireplace. You could see into a few sleeping quarters. The little ones were dozing off, and in one room was a couple laughing together. The small community that existed underneath the palace was something you deeply admired. You wouldn’t have had any idea any of this was here if you hadn’t pushed for today’s events, and you truly loved it. You loved how all these people found refuge and a home here.

You wished you could, too.

Koska stops at one door, taking the wet dress out of your hands and tossing it into the room before closing the wooden door shut and progressing back down the hallway. She eventually opens up a door to a small room with a single bed and large chest.

“Is this your room?” You ask, looking around and familiarizing yourself with it. A single embroidery hoop with a half-done pattern sat on the bed, on the windowsill was a melting candle whose wax had dried in a cascading pattern on the ancient stone, and at the foot of the bed was a small table with a wash basin and hairpins.

“No, It’s my sister’s. My room is closer to the Queen’s.” She nods. You had no clue Koska had a sister. She opens up the chest and pulls out a dry under-slip and simple but pretty purple dress. It wasn’t a ballgown and had long, bell sleeves in a similar fashion to Koska’s. There was some moon and star embroidery on the bodice.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” You said, starting to shiver a little now.

“Her name is Alva, she works in the kitchen.” She nods as she crosses over to the table, opening up a little box to pull out a horse-hair comb.

“Will she mind us using her things?”

“Well, you’re the Princess, so I hope not.” She shrugs and crosses over the room again like a madwoman, pulling a wool blanket from the chest. “Here, strip and dry off.” You look at her, confused. “Alright… I’ll turn around then.” Koska rolls her eyes and turns to face the wall. You peel off the wet slip, and use the wool material to wipe your body dry. It wasn’t nearly as soft and luxurious as the cotton robes you have five floors up, but it will do for now. You have sand everywhere, and you mean everywhere. You brush it off as best you can, hoping it doesn’t make too much of a mess for anyone to have to clean. You then pull on the dry clothes, and clear your throat when you’re done and decent.

Koska turns around and smiles. “Sit, I’ll brush your hair for you and then escort you back upstairs to see your parents.”

You had completely forgotten that they would be arriving tonight. You get a twinge of adrenaline. You’ve been so homesick, and it will be nice to see some familiar faces after such an emotional two weeks. You sit at the stool in front of the table, and Koska carefully combs out your knotted but drying hair.

“So… It looks like you two had fun.” She says. You smile and blush.

“Yes, we did.” You chuckle.

“That’s good, it’s been so long since he’s had fun. He deserves it.” She hums in response and you immediately question how they know one another so well again.

“How do you know each other?” You ask, knowing there's no harm in that.

Koska sighs, “We… used to work together in a sense. He’s a good man, an even better father.” She shrugs. So that’s four people you can think of who know about his son, You, Koska, Peli and the woman from Isla’s bar… although that situation seemed different, magical almost.

“You two never…” You trail off, not really wanting to hear the answer but not stopping yourself before you ask it anyways.

Koska laughs out loud this time, stopping the combing motion, “Oh stars, no. Never. I have someone else… and he has you.”

Your heart warms at that phrase. “Who is this ‘someone else’ you speak of?” You ask, enjoying the casual girl talk the two of you are sharing.

She hums again, “You’ve met her, she’s shorter than me and far more serious, she has a fire burning, but she’s special to me.” You can hear the smile in Koska’s tone.

You wonder who she’s talking about.

—

Taglist: @remmysbounty @snow30285 @what-iwish-you-knew @carbonated-beverage @frogllady @baileys-corner @song-of-sea-and-sky @leaiorganas @weirdowithnobeardo @ginger-swag-rapunzel @bewitchedbodyandsol @mograh @justavolcano @theokatz @lowkeytesss @hallway5 @dat-girl-in-corner @news4bees @istealyof00d @songofcosplay @waffles4lif3 @mcueveryday @310ra @thatonedindjarinfan @songofseraphine @callmekane @theelilbritt @bbwithaknife @firstofficerwiggles @jedi-jesi @ironbabey @minttchipp @bel-ppa @honey-hi @cp11 @venomous-ko @bbwithaknife @lunatic-sunsets @1800-fight-me @foundtheavacados @elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @florenceivy @theanothersherlockian @spideysimpossiblegirl

“If you are included in the taglist, you are expected to interacted with the post you are tagged in (ex. Reblogs, comments and notes), if I notice that you are not interacting with the applicable post, you will be removed from the taglist”

—

308 notes · View notes

sun-flower-children · 4 years

Text

BakuSquad’s Boy Part 1

A/N: Based on a fic that doesn’t exist anymore :( I’ll be adding my own head canons from what i remember of the og fic. This whole thing is in a headcanon format :)))

Kirishima was sitting down when he noticed their new transfer student walking into the cafeteria looking lost. Without thinking twice he quickly caught the attention of the male and motioned him to come over.

“Is it okay if I join you?” you asked, recognizing the spiky haired student as your classmate.

“Of course, let me introduce you to everybody!”

The redhead introduced all the guys sitting at the table. The talkative blonde with the lightning bolt in his hair was Kaminari . The smiling black haired boy with oddly shaped elbows was Sero and the angry-faced pale blonde with red eyes was Bakugo. While the rest smiled at you he merely sneered and ignored you.

“Don’t let him bother you too much, he's a grouch!” Kirishima said smiling.

The entire lunch period was spent talking to the Bakusquad and explaining how you transferred from the hero school in your home country and enrolled at UA. Laughing with them and bonding over memes and hero training.

It didn’t take long for you to become part of the friend group.

Y’all are a chaotic group of motherfuckers

The group chat is mess; Bakugo is trying to help people w homework, Zero is constantly sharing tick tocks and at 2 am Denki will spam it with memes ( which pisses Bakugo off bc it wakes him up when he forgets to mute his notifications)

Y’all will study together, which surprisingly, can be super productive sometimes.

It honestly didn’t take very long for you guys to become inseparable. They have you back and you have theirs. Training and working out together is a plus because sometimes y’all are too busy to actually fully hangout.

Kirishima will compliment you in a “manly” way and will totally be your hype man. Will be ecstatic when you give back the same energy. One time Bakugo joined you guys for his morning workout and his jaw almost fell to the ground when he saw you take your shirt off. He couldn’t help but stare like holy shit you were ripped. Training with Kiri really did pay off. Bakugo smirked to himself when he noticed his red haired friend was also checking you out when you didn’t notice.

Going to the mall with Sero and Denki is a whole ass ride. Y’all will go to so many stores and either waste all your money or just fuck around. Hot Topic is definitely a favorite of theirs. They don’t care if it’s not your vibe because they will want to deck you out in the fitting rooms to see what you look like. Once they pushed the curtain before you were done changing your shirt and both pairs of eyes went straight to your body, making you blush.

After being friends for so long the Bakusquad could read each other's emotions and all recognized that they had crushes on you. They talked about it and concluded that this would by no means would get between their friendship but would amicably flirt with you.

They organized a sleepover not too long after. But it was basically them all fighting each other about who’s room they would be staying in. Ended up going to Bakugo’s room because it was the closest for most of them. When you got there you were so caught up with the movie that you didn't realize they were low-key fighting each other for a spot next to you/ touching you in general. It was when y’all were going to sleep when you realized you left your sheets and what not in your room. Bakugo without missing a beat said you could sleep with him which then prompted Denki to tell you that “Bakugo’s feet smell like shit you don't wanna sleep with him” for Kiri to go “ Hey that isn’t manly, you should sleep w me Y/N.”. While the three of them were battling it out you and Sero were just sitting crouched in the corner. “I mean Y/N I could always get sheets and stuff from my rooms ‘cause it's not that far from here.” only for Bakugo to throw a pillow straight in his face yelling “Shut it Soy-Sauce face!!” Yeah they felt really bad in the morning when you ended up sleeping on the floor with nothing covering you.

Sero will want to smoke with you. The first time he smoked with you, you ended up having a panic attack and he felt responsible for making you panic and so anxious. He tries to smoke by himself for the meanwhile until you convince him to let you try again. It goes much better this time. Y’all start vibing to his latin playlist and he tries to teach you but y’all just end up stumbling over each other and constantly laughing. When dancing becomes physically exhausted and watches tick tocks and videos on his phone. Which ends up with y’all crying over the video where the racoon tries to wash his cotton candy but it dissolves. At some point the tears become too much and you both reach for each other which ends up with y'all sobbing and cuddling each other. Y’all fell asleep like this :)

The whole squad smokes at one point or another. Kirishima does it whenever he’s just in the mood to hangout and he uber chills. Bakugo does it to relieve stress and just enjoy life a bit. Denki smokes the 2nd most in the group just whenever he needs to kill time or he wants to vibe.

There will be times when y'all will smoke together and just fuck shit up. Like, one night after exam y’all are smoking but shit starts getting wild. Like y'all are hopping off the walls and dancing around to random music. Denki will find a roach that's stuck on its back and trying to get back off its legs but y’all are dancing all around it thinking it's like break dancing. “ AYYYY FUCK IT UP” Bakugo would yell “GET INTO IT” Sero would then yell. One of y’all took a video and accidentally posted it on Snapchat so the next day Mina would ask like wth happened last night bc y’alls tik toks and snapchats were wack af. Sero would probably speak on behalf of the group and say “ We were just really hyper.

When they all become hyper aware of their feelings not only for you but like low-key for each other they all change a lil bit. Like:

Denki stops flirting with people outside of the Baku Squad. He’s more touchy with y’all. Holding onto arms, arms over shoulders, hands on waists, holding hands, sitting in y’alls laps (this is a big one)

Kirishima has more energy when he’s with you guys. Like he could be running lower on battery than normal but one of y'all just comes up to him and he lights up like a light bulb.

Bakugo stops ruining desks and promptly yelling at people. He’s toned down and becomes a bit more chilled out. Mostly when he's with you guys. He is still a grumpy gremlin when he is with people who aren’t the Baku Squad.

Sero actually hides it pretty well and no one notices and changes that are indicative of a crush. Probably a bit more confident in himself

Kirishima and Denki acting like they haven't seen each other in sages when it really has only been like five minutes.

“ OMG BRO IT'S BEEN FOREVER”

“OMG DENKI MY MAN I MISSED YOU SM!”

“ BRO C’MERE AND PLANT A PHAT ONE ON ME!”

“HELL YA MY DUDE, THIS IS GONNA BE MANLY.”

And then proceed to aggressively walk toward each other, slap each others asses and plant a kiss on each other's cheeks before erupting into a huge fit of laughter. While people around them are just like ‘wtf is going on’

Touching becomes a thing.

Y’all will actively find each other when y'all want a hug or cuddles or smth. Forehead and cheek kisses are a thing. Bakugo takes much longer to warm up to everyone starting really with you and Kirishima. most comfortable holding y’alls hands loosely and rubbing your knuckles. Denki probably does this the most. He lives for physical affection, just give this poor boy his much needed cuddles and kithes.

Despite y’all high-key crushing for each other you all still are absolutely focused on your career paths as heros. Bakugo helping teach english and you trying to help ( if you know english well enough to teach )

“Ok idiots for the last time what word do we use to describe Sarah?”

“I mean she took these poor dudes apples and all of these are positive adjectives...i think.”

“Yeah Sarah’s kind of a bitch.”

“SHUT IT YOU TOO AND ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION!”

“I mean Bakubro they aren’t wrong...”

“NOT YOU TOO KIRI!”

You guys work so well during team vs fights bc of how well you all know each other.

It’s an absolute mess but y’all love eachother <3

I will be making a part 2 ( + 3 i think ) so hang around for more :)

MASTERLIST

442 notes · View notes

kmackatie · 3 years

Text

Originally asked by @jamieylnn on this post: "84, 102, or 119 for the intimacy prompts with Shadowgast". I got around to another one of them. It's less fluff and a bit more angsty, but this is where my brain went with it.

Thanks again to @mllekurtz for taking my spaghetti-thrown-at-a-wall mess and helping turn it into an actual coherent meal. <3

request a prompt here

84 - sky watching Shadowgast, post canon established relationship, canon compliant, 2108 words, cw: brief fatalistic thoughts

Caleb stepped onto the roof, hands tucked into the pockets of his linen pants, feet bare and hair untied. He found Essek in the middle of it, lying on his back and hovering a few inches off the ground, one hand held up as he seemed to map something in the stars above.

He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, taking in the sight of moonlight against Essek’s skin. The shifting, gentle light was like a caress, catching on the smattering of freckles across Essek’s cheeks, the traces of silver still lined around his eyes, and glinted off the jewellery delicately clasped to his ears. He had come out here sometime while Caleb was bathing, the bedroom empty and the open window the only indication that he hadn’t teleported away completely.

They were in Emon, Caleb visiting Allura under the pretence of collaboration in magical education when really it was an excuse for Essek to spend some time investigating some interesting dunamantic pulls he had discovered in the jungles to the south of the capital. It had been three weeks of exploring, discovering, and relaxing in the way that Essek and Caleb do, days filled with academic pursuits while taking advantage of the fact that Essek didn’t have to hide, could just be Essek. They had their Tower, though it wasn’t used much, each more content to take the time to enjoy the open air and sky above them.

But, like all things, it had to come to an end. They lingered as much as they could, on the journey back to Emon. Had slowed down the pace, spending more time in the Tower than exploring outside of it, until they couldn’t justify the delay any further and Essek teleported them back to the house they had rented.

Essek’s easy smile had become strained during their dinner, as Caleb spoke of his students and the plans he had been toying with for the next semester, answers taking longer to come when Caleb would ask for his opinion. He could recognise the signs, having seen them before, but he knew that Essek would only talk about it when he was ready to.

He stepped forward, feet scuffing intentionally against the loose dirt and pebbles. One of Essek’s ears twitched, the only indication that he had heard Caleb’s arrival. Essek continued to stare up at the sky, hand pausing in its tracing before he pulled it back. His violet eyes were shining in the low light, the stars reflected back, an endless void that Caleb could lose himself in if he looked too long.

Pausing, Caleb debated for a long moment before he eased himself down onto the ground next to Essek, groaning slightly as his muscles protested the movement. He envied Essek’s ability to hover, the rough ground was not kind on his ageing body, but it was one trick he had never quite got the hang of every time Essek had tried to teach it to him.

He stared at the skyline of Emon, Allura’s tower in the distance, a beacon on the edge of the Cloudtop district, the few lights still lit up in the houses around them. It was still, quiet, and every bit of his focus was on monitoring the small movements of the drow next to him. The stuttering rise and fall of Essek’s chest, breath ragged and uneven, hand flicking through somatic gestures and arcane runes as if by habit, all while his eyes stared at the sky above, unblinking.

It was a long moment before Essek blinked and broke the silence, his voice rough and low.

“I miss the sky. This one… this one is different. It’s not Rosohna’s sky. I did not think— I should not miss it.”

“It is not that different—”

“Except it is,” Essek cut in, voice sharp. “Rosohna’s… it isn’t a perfect match for what would be in the sky above Wildemount. It’s based off the Bright Queen’s memory of what it once was, over thousands of years ago. The sky has changed since then.”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Caleb admitted, drawing one knee up to his chest and wrapping an arm around it, eyes still focused on Essek’s face.

“No. You had no reason to be. You weren’t there for that long… and you had more pressing concerns.”

“Fjord never did see that ceremony.”

Essek laughed hollowly. “No, he did not.”

They fell back into silence, and there was a tension there now that wasn’t there earlier. A wariness to the way Essek’s shoulders hunched ever so slightly, as if he had to brace himself for whatever was said next.

And Caleb didn’t want to ask it, didn’t want to bring it up, but he knew that if he didn’t, then this would fester and he couldn’t bear anything being a reason for Essek to stay away.

“Do you regret it?” He saw Essek flinch, a barely perceptible motion that he would have missed, hadn’t he been looking for it. He clarified, “Not… not taking it. I mean— well. Us, the Nein. We threw your plans into disarray and Jester… and me. You would not be here if not for us, you wouldn’t have had suspicion placed on you.”

“There would have been suspicion on me eventually.”

“And Shadowhand Thelyss would have had a plan for that,” he pointed out with a rueful chuckle. “Or at least, the glimmer that we saw of Shadowhand Thelyss would have, and if he was anything like Bren, well… plans upon plans.”

There was a long beat before Essek replied.

“I would not change any step that I took that led me to you—”

“I don’t doubt you on that, meine Liebe, but—”

“I don’t say that for you,” Essek snapped, holding a finger up between them while his eyes didn’t move from the sky. “Just… just let me finish.”

Caleb merely nodded, biting his lip at his instinct to respond.

“I don’t say that for you. I say it because sometimes I need to remind myself of what I have gained. I don’t… it’s not regret. Or rather, I did not know quite how much it would bite. I did not anticipate the… the vastness of it, of displacement.”

Caleb got the sense that Essek wasn’t finished, so he said nothing, just waited and watched, hands itching to reach out, to comfort and hold.

“I miss home. Not… I know I have one with you. My towers, my laboratory. I did not expect to miss it quite so much. The eternal night, the easy access… this hiding. I hate it. I hate it.”

Essek scrubbed a hand across his eyes, and Caleb’s heart ached. He knew what it was like to not be able to return to a place that he wanted to, a weight that nobody who hadn’t experienced loss understood. He lifted a hand towards Essek, but before his fingers could connect Essek flinched back, turning away from Caleb.

“Essek, Liebling.”

“No— don’t,” Essek gasped, curling in on himself. He hunched over, still somehow hovering a few inches off the floor, shoulders raised. “Don’t give me your sympathy. I bought this bed and now I have to live in it.”

Caleb could not help the way his heart clenched at that, the fondness for the jumbled saying seeping through his own pain, his own realisation that this had been brewing for far longer than he had realised. He should have seen it. Should have realised that all the times Essek snapped recently weren’t just due to the exhaustion of being in the sun, that when Essek chose to trance before Caleb had fallen asleep he did so to avoid conversation, that the times he had tracked him down to the ninth floor, the moment of vacant expression before a smile kicked in was more than just troubling thoughts. Caleb had to swallow around the lump that had formed in his own throat. There was a sudden hollowness in his stomach as he realised how much the situation was affecting Essek.

It took a moment to realise the hollow gasping sound wasn’t coming from him, that despite the swirling storm of his own emotions, his shoulders weren’t shaking and he wasn’t falling apart.

Essek was.

Essek, who had tried to hide his worries from Caleb. Essek, who had to be coaxed to state what he needed and wanted on a good day. Essek, who could command and demand his way into any room but would barely make eye contact when he truly cared about the opinion of whoever he was talking to.

This was exactly why he hadn’t said anything, why he didn’t show it. He was as bad as Caleb in his determination to carry his own burdens.

But there was something Caleb had learned, that he had an advantage on Essek in learning, and that was that burdens were immensely easier to carry when shared.

Shoving away his own guilt, carefully, ever so carefully, Caleb inched forward and placed a hand on Essek’s back. He felt Essek tense under his hand, but this time he didn’t move away. Swallowing, Caleb took that as encouragement and shifted again, hand moving across Essek’s back until his arm was wrapped around Essek’s shoulders.

“Essek.”

Essek gasped, letting out a heartbreaking sob before leaning the tiniest bit into Caleb’s grasp.

Caleb just waited. Not demanding, and not expecting, just hoping that Essek would take the comfort offered.

Slowly, Essek turned to Caleb, fraction by fraction he shifted until his shoulder was against Caleb’s chest, his forehead tucked against Caleb, and he was sobbing into Caleb’s shirt. Caleb held him, hand moving in gentle, soothing circles on his back as he murmured in Zemnian, nonsense phrases and observations about everything he loved about Essek.

When he judged that Essek may have calmed, when the sobs became sniffles and Essek stopped clutching Caleb’s clothing like he would drown without the lifeline, Caleb leaned down and pressed a kiss into Essek’s soft curls.

He gently ran a thumb under each eye, drawing away what dampness he could as shining violet eyes blinked up at him.

“I’m so—”

“Shh, Liebling, it’s okay. There is nothing to apologise for.”

Essek’s eyes closed, as he let out a shuddering breath.

“It is okay to mourn what you had, Essek. It is okay to acknowledge what you have lost, even while you acknowledge what you have gained. One doesn’t cancel out the other. Looking back… it is not a bad thing.” He was saying it as much for Essek as he was for himself. They had always been similar, had always understood each other in a way that no one else did. It could be a crutch, could be their downfall, but instead it led to a partnership that was equal, that felt so right, like it was always meant to be. He wanted to be that support for Essek, the way Essek always was for him. “When we visited Blumenthal, and I said goodbye, you stood with me. In the T-Dock even, you would have helped me, without question. You have ever since, even when all I wanted to do was rewrite time so I could step back and do it all again.”

“It is not the same.” There was little conviction in Essek’s tone, it was barely a protest.

“No, it isn’t. But what I am saying is that it is okay to have dark days, to have days where it is all too much. That is why I am here. To remind you that you can do this, Essek. That it is worth it, that you are strong enough to get through it. And on the days where you aren’t, where you need quiet and to escape, I will be here to hold you.”

“You won’t always be here, when you’re teaching and I’m off… wherever.”

“We can both teleport, distance and time are meaningless with the right determination.”

Essek half laughed and half hiccuped, an odd choked off noise that Caleb had never heard him make before. A grin started to grow across his face as Essek looked taken aback at the noise, and it was far too cute for Caleb to let it go.

He leaned forward and kissed Essek, chapped lips pressing gently against carefully looked after ones. Drawing back, Caleb presses a second kiss to the tip of Essek’s nose, another between his eyes, his forehead.

“I love you,” murmured Essek.

Caleb smiled, shifting carefully to lie back, adjusting and holding Essek to his chest as he went.

“Come. Tell me about the differences in the stars.”

#shadowgast #critical role #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #critical role fanfic #cr: fanfic #the mighty nein #my writing #ficlet #writing prompt #non-sexual intimacy prompts #jamielynn #katie replies #ask katie

115 notes · View notes

galactic-magick · 4 years

Text

As Long As I’m With You: Agnes/Agatha Harkness x Reader

Request: Hi, can you please do where Agnes (a villain) saves fem reader's life because she has feelings for her? In the end they end up together // also took some ideas from this request

Summary: You’re accused of witchcraft in your village, and a mysterious beautiful witch comes to your aid.

Words: 2200+

Warnings: fem reader, Agatha is low key evil so she hurts some people, a swear word, reader has an angsty past

Author’s Notes: This can be read as either a standalone fic or as a prequel to my other fic “Spell Practice.” I took quite a lot of creative liberty with this, hopefully that’s alright. Also disclaimer I am in no way a history expert so even though this is set in like the 1500s-1600s it’s probably very inaccurate, but it’s fanfic so anything goes right?

Taglist: @nyx-aira @midnight-lestrange @thestrangeundoing @thegayances @sleep-deprived-athlete @dr-robotnik-said-hella @fallingfor-fics @p-nymph @thelanawinterrs @sunproud (if your tag didn’t work it might be bc your blog isn’t searchable so make sure that’s on so you’re notified of future fics!)

You had no idea how much your life would change when you left your house that day.

It started out with a simple run to the market and the garden to get what you needed for supper that night, a job that almost always falls to you. You don’t necessarily mind getting away from your family and talking to some people in town, but it’s clear that your family doesn’t want you in the house as much as possible either.

It’s gotten to the point where they’re just looking for a reason to get rid of you. You’re a disappointment, after all. You refuse to marry in order to help your family’s status, even though you’ve gotten a couple offers. You counter your parent’s rules and ideas every chance you get, no matter how much they tell you you’re crazy. They belittle you constantly, saying your dreams are worth nothing and you’ll have to be dependent on them forever if you never submit to the role in society you’re supposed to.

Obviously bullying you out of their lives wasn’t working, so they’ve moved on to spreading rumors about you and setting you up for crimes. None have worked yet, of course, but every day you fear they’ll get too close.

Until you get burned at the stake, though, they’ve given you basically every responsibility of the house. You do all the shopping, cooking, and farming, as well as taking care of your younger siblings. You wonder what they’d do without you, despite how much they seem to want you gone.

As you’re buying a few crops and eggs from your neighbors, you swear you see something move. You turn around and see a little boy floating in the air, screaming.

You drop everything in your arms and reach up to him, trying to grab him and help him down, but he keeps flailing, and his screams start to feel directed at you.

“Hey! It’s okay! Let me help you!” you hold your hand up, speaking as calmly as you can. “I’m not going to hurt you,”

“WITCH!” a man yells as he sees you. “SHE’S A WITCH!”

Everyone around turns and watches you.

“No! No! I’m not the one doing this! I’m trying to help!”

“Let him down and maybe we’ll wait to kill you til tomorrow!” someone else demands.

A couple people march towards you to grab you, and all you can think to do is start running.

You race out of the center of town into the trees, and about five men chase after you. You keep going until it feels like your legs are going to give out and you can barely breathe, but they keep coming.

“Please! Please stop! It wasn’t me I swear!” you cry. “I don’t know what was happening!”

“Shut up, girl,” one grunts. “Your father always said there was something wrong with you, makes sense that you’re a witch!”

“What’s so wrong about witches?” a female voice calls.

You and the men spin around, trying to figure out where it came from.

Before you can blink there’s purple smoke surrounding you, and the men are thrown against the trees. They’re knocked unconscious instantly, but you remain standing and untouched.

“Who are you?” you ask, your voice quivering.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” the smoke starts to fade and you can make out her silhouette, then eventually her face. “I’m here to help you,”

She’s beautiful. You’ve never seen someone that immediately feels so friendly, so different in all the best ways.

“It’s alright to stare, I know I’m quite a sight,” she laughs. “I’m Agatha,”

“I’m Y/N,”

“Ah, yes, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard of you,” she smiles. “Everyone in the village can barely stand you,”

“Thanks…?” you’re not sure how to respond, especially after all that just happened. “Wait, if you live in my village, why have I never seen you? And how come you’ve never gotten caught using magic?”

“Memory spells, of course,” she shrugs. “Now, let’s get you somewhere safe, alright?”

You nod, and she wraps an arm around you. She takes you deep into the forest until you reach a small house, the glimmer of the fire peering through the windows.

You settle down on a chair while she makes some tea and food. She offers you a blanket and hands you the cup and plate, sitting down across from you.

“So how long have you been practicing magic?” she asks.

“Oh…I…well actually I don’t know how to use any magic,”

“Really? Why were the witch hunters after you then?”

“I was set up, I think,” you say. “There was a little boy floating in the air, and since I was near him they thought it was me. But I wasn’t doing anything,”

“Well,” Agatha sips her tea. “Sometimes magic can manifest itself subconsciously. Maybe you were doing it but didn’t realize it. It’s quite common,”

“But…how would I have magical powers? I’ve never learned it from anywhere,”

“Some people are just born with the gift,” she grins.

You exhale, thinking over what she said. Could it be true? You’ve been a witch all your life without even knowing it?

That night, Agatha conjures another bed for you to sleep in. But even though she made it as comfortable as she possibly could, you can’t get a wink of sleep.

You lift off the blanket and wrap it tightly around you, getting up slowly and quietly. You walk outside and sit against a tree, looking up at the stars.

You’re sure your family has heard the news by now. Their disappointment of a daughter is finally gone, accused of witchcraft. It seems that the foreseeable future will be spent with Agatha, the only safe person you have.

You wonder just how much she already knows about you. She mentioned she’s heard people gossiping about you all the time in town, yet she still saved you after hearing all those negative things.

Why is that?

“Can’t sleep?”

You jump at her voice, and she chuckles a bit at your reaction.

“Sorry,” you sigh. “I just have a lot to think about from today, I guess,”

“No worries,” she sits down beside you. “So do I,”

“Agatha,” you say. “Why did you save me?”

“Us witches have to stick together. I saw you were in trouble, so I saved you,”

“But you knew, didn’t you? You’ve known I was a witch long before this, didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions,” she agrees. “Whenever I heard people talk about you, I figured you weren’t like everyone else. But I didn’t know for sure until today,”

“I wish you had taken me before,” you huff, a few tears falling down your cheeks. “It’s been so bad, Agatha, feeling worthless just because you’re different, everyone hates you…”

She pulls you into her shoulder, letting you cry into it, “I know, dear, I know,”

It takes you a while to come to terms with your potential powers, but as soon as you’re ready Agatha begins to teach you how to use them. You spend your days studying her spell books and practicing simple spells, most of which you fail at.

She encourages you as much as possible, explaining to you that magic is not something you can learn overnight, sometimes not even over years. She tells you that she’s actually thousands of years old (a surprise to you due to her stunning looks) and she’s been practicing for much of that time, and there’s still some spells she hasn’t mastered.

Your impatience still gets the better of you most days, though. You can’t imagine waiting several centuries to get something to work, if you get it to work at all.

One day you’re sitting at the table, trying out a simple transfiguration spell. You wave your hand repeatedly at a potato, hoping to turn it into an apple. It doesn’t even wobble, not even a single spark, but you’ve been sitting here for hours and don’t want to give up just yet.

You nearly fall asleep from exhaustion when all of a sudden it happens. It works.

There’s an apple in front of you. Not a potato, an apple.

“Holy shit!” you scream. “Agatha! I did it!”

You run over to her and point at your small accomplishment.

“Look at you go, darling!” she smiles, hugging you. “At this rate you’ll be changing rocks into cats before you’re 200!”

You laugh, “Oh come on, this is literally just one of the beginner spells,”

“So what? That’s where everybody starts,”

You break out in giddy excitement again, jumping up and down a bit and looking back and forth just to make sure your creation is still there.

Without thinking, you kiss Agatha quickly on the lips.

She stares at you, mouth open.

Before you can apologize, she grabs your face and kisses you hard. She’s everything you’d imagined and more, soft and warm but with a spark you can’t ignore.

When you finally break apart, her hands linger, brushing across your features and in your hair, “I’ve been waiting to do that,”

Things change after that, but in only the best ways.

Agatha isn’t just your mentor anymore, the only friend who came to your aid.

She’s your everything now, a soulmate, your home.

You tell her all about your life, and she tells you all about hers. As she has significantly more stories to tell, you’ll fall asleep many nights to her whispering all the legends she lived through that no one else knows are true.

She makes you laugh every day, and makes sure you always know how much she cares about you. There’s only so much you can do in your hidden home in the woods, but with magic the possibilities are endless and she’s never short of romantic ideas.

Tonight you find yourself lying your head in her lap while she plays with your hair, close to the fire so you can watch the little shows she creates with the flames.

“What about love?” you ask.

“What about it?”

“Out of all the stories you’ve told me, you’ve never mentioned being in love before,”

“Well,” she sighs. “That’s because I haven’t been,”

“Why not?”

“It’s just never appealed to me,” she says. “Until I met you,”

“Oh,” you grin, looking up at her.

She leans down to kiss you, but you’re broken apart by a loud noise outside.

You shoot up, looking at Agatha in pure panic. Your heart races as the noise gets louder and louder, eventually leading to shouting and knocks at the door.

“WE FOUND YOU!” a booming voice yells.

“Aggie?” you whisper. Everything crumbles around you. Your perfect, happy life, now about to be stolen from you. You have no idea how they found you, if you are about to be dead, if you’ll be able to defend yourself at all.

She kisses you and stands up, “Stay here. I’ll take care of it,”

With a fling of her fingers the door flies open, and the torches the townspeople are holding are burnt out. She smirks, purple smoke covering the area as she goes through them one by one, some just throwing to the side and others suffering a painful death.

She turns their own weapons against them, their own people against them, and makes them regret everything they’ve ever done.

When she returns to you, you’re still in so much shock and panic you couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing.

“Did you…kill all of them?”

“They got what they deserved for threatening us,” she says nonchalantly. “But we’re not safe here anymore. It’s time to find somewhere new,”

“Okay,” you nod as she pulls you against her. “As long as I’m with you,”

“I’ll always protect you, even when you learn enough to protect yourself,” she kisses your forehead. “Always and forever,”

APPROXIMATELY FOUR CENTURIES LATER

“I’m back, darling!” Agatha calls, shutting the door behind her.

“How’d it go?” you run to her, grabbing her hands.

“Splendid, that poor Wanda already loves her new neighbor!”

“Wow,” you giggle. “You know I must say, this whole living in a sitcom thing isn’t that bad, you look gorgeous in that 50s dress,”

“Oh darling, somehow after all this time you still flatter me,” she pretends to fan herself. “I have to go back over real quick, alright? Gotta give her this spicy magazine,” she holds her hand up in the air and magically forms one in her grasp.

“Ah! Be sure to get some ideas to use on me when you get back,” she laugh.

“Oh I will honey,” she winks, kissing you before going out the door.

You settle on the couch, looking around at your home. Out of all the places you’ve moved to together, this was by far the weirdest. There’s no color, and everyone besides you and Agatha and Wanda are under some kind of mind control.

You never imagined that day all those years ago would bring you here, spending your life with a beautiful witch and being her partner in all things, even sinister ones. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, and you know this strange town will only bring you more opportunities to practice your magic and help Agatha with her plans.

#agatha harkness #wandavision #agatha harkness x reader #agnes x reader #wandavision spoilers #wandavision x reader

249 notes · View notes

whump-town · 3 years

Text

Stubborn

Everybody taking care of old Hotch because... I don't like it when old Hotch gets left to just die on his own :( don't ask why that's where I draw the line

No pairings

No warnings

In Jack’s second semester of his junior year, Hotch collapses again. He’s home this time, out in his garden under the glaring sun. The day had begun no different than any other. The birds on the powerline chirping and causing their disturbances, as eager for the day to begin as the school-aged children shouting in the street. He’d watched them from the sliding glass door facing the street, his tea warm in his hands. He’d waved at a few, the older ones who recognize him as a mystifying adult with stories to be unlocked. The younger children give him a face akin to a monster’s, his mystery horrifying in their already confusing enough lives.

It’s an hour before lunch. Two hours before Spencer shows up because it’s Thursday and he teaches a class on this side of town every Tuesday and Thursday at 2. One that he occasionally asks Hotch to attend -- as a guest lecturer, as a treat to his students, or just for the company.

He could call just about anyone.

Emily’s downtown, on her way back from a meeting with the Department of Justice. She’d be thrilled for an excuse to not go back to the office and spend an hour or two in his kitchen telling him about those pretentious assholes.

Garcia’s about ten minutes away, working at a nonprofit teaching “at-risk” kids how to code. Being the guiding hand she’d needed as a teenager so that they might not repeat the same mistakes she made. She was lucky, Hotch saved her but he’s not around to catch any more kids like her.

Morgan got hired by a family two streets over to fix up their house before they move in. He’s there now, tearing out rotting beams.

This collapse is not of the life-threatening kind. Not to Hotch at least. There’s no internal bleeding, no emergency surgeries. He doesn’t even need stitches but he’s on so many medications that thin his blood that it’s just on the safer side. From the hospital, he calls who he needs to. Reid first, he’ll worry when he gets to Hotch’s house and sees his truck gone. Then, Jack, it’s better to hear this sort of thing from him and not Emily in half an hour when she needs to yell at someone and who better than the son of the idiot she hates right now? Dave and Emily follow and he trusts them to carry the news the rest of the way. Rather, he simply doesn’t want to talk about it anymore and he’d rather Garcia and JJ and Morgan and everyone else just be mad at him than go on to have another conversation about how he’s feeling.

Fine. He just got light-headed. It was the heat and his perpetually low iron and probably his thin blood (the killer had been his blood pressure but they’re working on that). He just needs to get better about remembering to eat breakfast -- a larger breakfast than just tea and toast. Fainting, he assures Dave, happens. Jack’s seen it happen. The heat makes it worse, the summertime drains him. He’s come in from the garden and gotten weak in the knees plenty of times. He actually moved some chairs around the sliding glass door to the yard, prepared for this exact problem.

This over clarification does not help.

Made only the more complicated when he explains his head is fine. The fainting thing really isn’t a big deal, he just needs a ride home. He’d landed weirdly and pulled his back. He left with a new problem entirely, a torn ligament in his shoulder. That is a problem for a different day.

The surgery is set for the week just before Jack’s finals. Armed with a suitcase full of textbooks, his laptop, notes from this semester (and a few from last), and just enough clothes to recycle a few and still be fine, Jack shows up on his father’s doorstep. “I mean, the hospital isn’t exactly the library… but it’s not the worst place I’ve studied.” It’s far too late to send Jack back but Hotch is reluctant to let him stay. Even if he does prefer Jack be his ride rather than the likes of Penelope and that tiny green eye-sore of a car she drives or leave him to Reid and his defensive, jerky driving.

To the sound of “Aaron Hotchner November 2, 1971”, Jack settles down with his books. He tries to put himself in the right headspace for studying but it’s harder than he anticipated. The constant motion of the room unsettles him and he looks up several times to see his father’s reaction. To gauge the anxiety in his face, in the deep breathes that he pulls in through his nose. In how tight his fists are holding the sheets underneath him. It’s a simple surgery and they’ll be out of here in no time.

“Young” his heart had not handled the heavy sedatives and morphine well. Then again, those incidents are always hard to measure against a thing like this. Rushed into the ER with nine chest wounds and having nearly bled to death, it’s natural to conclude the stress of his depleted blood supply and his very recent trauma had caused his heart to stop on the table. That said trauma was the reason his heart had maintained to be a steady problem up until they released him. Again, when he was brought in with some of the worst internal bleedings the staff had ever seen. His heart had given them trouble too.

Jack is staring blankly at his flashcards when the doctor comes out.

Hotch had gone to Georgetown to be a lawyer like his father and his grandfather. Jack went to Georgetown to get an Art History degree. He was lead by something else. Not chasing some shadow, clutching at a lie he spoonfed himself. Jack didn’t live in anyone’s shadow, never felt the pressure to look and act a certain way. Was never beaten into submission or told to hold his tongue. Jack went to museums every Saturday with his father, preferred them to the aquariums and the zoo. Hotch held him close to the artwork, pushed his dense schedule around to go to new shows, and learned the names of pieces just to recite the knowledge back to Jack.

In his lap, Jack is memorizing pieces of art like his father had years ago for him. He’s stuck on The Anatomy Lesson, eyes glued to the details. The way colorless skin is held in forceps, peeled back to reveal angry red. He can feel the pinching teeth on his own skin, feels the heavy flow of hot blood spilling down over his arm.

“Hotchner?”

Jack flinches, caught completely off guard. He stands, flushing as he tucks his notecards into his textbook, and stands. “Ugh, yeah. That’s me.” He wipes his hands off on his pants, rubbing away the nervous sweat he’s built up.

The doctor recognizes him from earlier. He’d watched Jack and Hotch get out one last goodbye. Jack pulling up a nervous smile, dirty-blonde hair, and light eyes a complete contrast to Hotch’s ever-darkening features. Somehow more solemn, voice taken by the sedatives already working through his body. He hadn’t said a word, eyes vacantly following Jack’s movements but unaware.

Jack expects the same monologue he hears every time. The one that comes out so dry and perfect that they must practice it in front of the mirror, say it softly to themselves as they as they get ready each morning. He’s got it memorized himself -- the bits about recovering in post-op, make a full recovery, and whatever on the fly timeline they give for access back to the room.

“But he’s-- He’s okay? He’s--”

Jack feels impossibly childish. Five years old and Emily’s chilled fingers brushing his tears away, “baby, I know you miss your mommy. But you’re being so terribly mean to your daddy.” He had been, a terrible little monster squirming away from his father and refusing to eat anything. Throwing tantrums about nothing and everything. Screaming and crawling under his bed every chance he got. Pushing himself to the wall knowing he couldn’t be reached.

Now he can remember Hotch just sitting at the edge of the bed. There on the floor for hours. Sometimes he read, would pick up a book, and just start from wherever just to make it so his voice was reaching where he couldn’t. He slept there too, on the hard ground just to make sure Jack knew he was there. Slipped strawberry pop tarts on crazily designed animal plated under there, offered bites of his own food to the darkness under the bed. Sippy cups full of chocolate milk and juice.

He feels like a little boy again, getting news that he has no idea how to handle.

“He’s okay?” Jack stammers. “He’s going to be okay? I can see him?”

Hotch remembers those days under the bed too. Waking up in the middle of the night as Jack groggily curled close to him, still under the bed but crawling under his blanket. The ends of those awful sobs, Jack’s little chest jerking as he hiccuped. The force of his sorrow was too much for his little body. And Jack would fall into his lap, exhausted and needing comfort. His little fingers tracing the scars on Hotch’s face. How he whispered “thank you” and “please” from underneath the bed and how he’d pop his head out to say, “Daddy, I’m going to potty. I’ll be right back.”

Jack’s legally old enough to drink now and Hotch still sees that little boy. The three-year-old wiping his snot on Hotch’s dress shirt. The six-year-old holding his hand and reminding him to look both ways twice before crossing the street. The eight-year-old he left the hallway light on for, old enough now to think he needed to brave the night without a nightlight. So Hotch would offer to keep the hallway light on, not for Jack but for him because he doesn’t like the dark. The ten-year-old sheepishly offering him a father’s day gift he bought with saved allowance, a t-shirt he’s now worn the words off of. The fifteen-year-old curling up beside him on the couch, seeking his comfort but not sure how to ask anymore. The eighteen-year-old as tall as him talking his ear off while he tries to get dinner ready, sticking his fingers in the pan and sitting on the counter.

How did he grow up so fast?

He’s not a little boy anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time.

The creaking of a chair moves Hotch’s attention and he looks away from Jack. Away from the sight of his little boy curled up on a cot, drooling onto a pillow and notebook still open, a pen dangling from his fingers. He looks over and Emily’s sitting up, her reading glasses precariously sat on the tip of her nose. “Oh look,” she mumbles. She stretches out, groaning as her joints complain from being held in this miserable hospital chair for hours. “You’ve decided to join the land of the living.”

Hotch watches her fold the thin black frames of her glasses up, gently sits them down by his hand as she stands up. Jack had called her, even though he promised he wouldn’t worry anyone. Hotch didn’t want anyone else coming to the hospital over something so small and though Jack protested that their concern wouldn’t be because he was bothering them but because they love him. The very same reason he’d come home is that people gather after these sorts of things. They need reassurance that he’s alive and he’s just going to have to accept that. They compromised in the end, everyone could come to smother him in worry after he got home from the surgery.

But Jack was scared. He called the only person he could think to, the woman whose role in his life that was never really clear. She’d gotten on him about his grades, smacked the back of his head when he said something stupid, and always let him taste-test her wine at Thanksgiving dinner. Emily knew things that not even Jessica knew and she could be sterner than both Hotch and Jessica and also more relaxed, more understanding. She was always there for both of them, in the same capacity as Jessica and yet her own unique one. A friend Hotch trusted and loved and Jack could understand that. His friends always wanted to know if they were dating and he knew intuitively that the answer was no but he would hesitate to try and explain. But he didn’t understand the gravity that pulled them together, adults and their relationships far too complex to fit it into his simple understanding of love.

He did understand she was the only person to call.

“What’d he do this time?” she asked and knew she was playing the wrong role for the wrong Hotchner because no sooner than she could ask she had an armful of Jack. She sat with Jack for hours, let him get his fear out. Held him while he sobbed, felt pulled to the past. When it was Aaron on her shoulder, terrified he’d lose his son. Life has this very odd way of bringing everything full circle.

“I bet you’re hurting.” Emily moves to the table and pours water into the little paper Dixie cup left by the nurses. “Been right dramatic this afternoon,” she informs him, a dissatisfied matter-of-fact tone in play. “I know you find that to be particularly taxing.” She holds the cup for him, gentle despite her annoyance. She’s close enough to see the iodine on his skin. Dark orange swipes across his pale skin, the smell burns with its strength.

He pulls greedily from the cup, mouth impossibly dry. Stopped only by how little she poured, he sinks back heavily into the pillows behind him. His shoulder hot and angry from forcing himself upright.

“They’re going to let you go in the morning,” she says, sitting back down. He won’t remember this in the morning. Emily holding his hand, whispering thickly how angry she is with him as tears fall down her face. How scared she was getting that phone call from Jack, racing down here to be a composed person to comfort his son thinking her best friend was in the morgue.

He’ll wake up with a pit in his stomach, residual feelings from the night before he can’t tie down to memories. Emily shows no inclination to repeat herself, just coldly informs him that she’ll have Penelope make him a cardiologist appointment (it’s unspoken that no one trusts him to do this himself). Jack walks on glass, close by but terrified of being pushed away. Hotch is too out of it to put up much of a fight, by the time the morning shift has their hands on him he’s silent. Properly dosed up for a ride home and out of his mind.

He’s groggily propped up on pillows, watching Jack and Emily fight over if he has the right to wear shoes or not. Emily wants to hold them captive, he won’t run off or refuse the wheelchair without them and Jack shakes his head, “he’s not our P.O.W, Emily. He’s even going to get that far if he does try to run.” He’s given his shoes but Emily makes a point to collect his cane, holds it while the nurse helps him into the wheelchair. He’s a flight-risk and she’s not going to trust him, he’s run off on her too many times for that.

At the house the other’s have gathered up, having nothing better to do evidently on a Wednesday at ten in the morning. Penelope’s frying eggs and bacon, the carnage it takes to feed their brood spread out on his kitchen counter. Reid sitting on the counter, Hank in his lap, and the two of them watching Penelope. Derek’s on the sofa, feet kicked up on the coffee table, and Savannah learning on his shoulder. Dave’s getting orange juice from the store declared them all lawless, and didn’t trust them to get the right kind.

Hotch is granted his cane to get back inside the house but Emily threatens to kick it out from underneath if he tries anything fast. He smacks her ankle and Jack has to actually step between them to keep them apart. It’s in times like these where Jack finds himself wondering how these two ever had any role in raising him at all.

“Don’t you have jobs?” Hotch asks, hooking his cane over the coat rack and toeing his shoes off. He ignores the hand Emily places on his arm, afraid he’ll knock himself over. He manages just fine, has the whole house set up so that every other step is within arms distance of something to lean on. Fingers trailing the back of the couch he limps past Derek, smiling when Savannah offers a soft “glad you’re okay”. She pats his hand and he nods back.

“Up for some food, sir?” Penelope asks and she’s not taking no for an answer. They might be having heaping servings of eggs and bacon and gravy and orange juice but she’s made two small bowls of oatmeal. She takes the medicine Jack tosses up on the counter, puts it at the end where the rest of his medication sits. “I cut up apples,” she tells Hotch with a wide grin, sliding the bowl in front of him. “Dashed a little cinnamon and sugar in there, it’ll stick to your bones. Keep you healthy.”

He’s at a healthy weight at the moment, not as thin as he leans to when he’s sick but with Hotch, it’s always a good thing to have some collateral weight for the “in case”. Lifting the spoon in his left hand he scoops some of the oatmeal up, doing his best to hide his annoyance at how weak his extremities still are. How his hand shakes under the light strain of the oatmeal. He looks up, watches Spencer carry Hank over to the highchair sitting at the table beside him. He’s distracted so Emily swoops in, takes his spoon from his hand, and tries his oatmeal. He lets her do it. He raises an eyebrow and she shrugs. She likes it. He nods, it’s pretty good.

Hank immediately knocks his spoon on the ground and makes a low whining sound in the back of his throat. “Hop help,” he whines, pointing down at his spoon. His speech is still developing so he pronounces help and hop nearly identically but Hotch understands the difference. He just can’t bend over like that. His right arm is still pinned to his chest in an intricate web of gauze and this sling.

“Reid,” Hotch calls. His voice is deep, strained from intubation and anesthesia. It makes him sound sick. “He’s dropped his spoon.”

Reid nods, he already knows.

Hank points to his shoulder and frowns, “Hop fall down?”

Hotch nods, that is pretty much what happened and at the same time, Emily sweeps in and tickles Hank. She presses kisses to his face and making him laugh loudly. “That’s what happens,” she says. “Hops is just old.” Hank is too distracted by the ongoing attack to defend Hotch not that a toddler rising to his defense is very helpful.

Hotch sighs as Jack comes up behind him, stealing his spoon too. He takes a bite of the oatmeal and deems it nearly as good as the kind that Jessica makes. Hotch wants to be annoyed by it and yet all he does is nod and finds himself smirking just a little.

Penelope calls everyone in for breakfast and Hotch ignores the kisses pressed to his cheek as people drag chairs to the table around him. To the hands that slide over his back, assurance of life he remembers Jack calling it.

Derek slides him a mug of tea, made exactly how he likes it. He sits across from Hotch, close to Hank in case either needs assistance. Emily sits to his left, slides her coffee up beside his tea so he can have some if he’s quick about it. Jack sits beside her and the rest is a blur, too much motion at once for him to take in without his contacts or glasses. Penelope slides a tea plate to him, his medicine on it, and kisses his head while he’s still scowling at the plate.

They don’t leave him alone all day.

He ends up taking a nap with Hank, the toddler’s sticky little fingers holding onto his shirt as he finds himself unable to fight off the effects of the medicine and his full stomach.

He’s squished on the couch between Derek and Dave, forced to watch baseball because he can’t worm his way upright again just yet.

They change the dressings on his shoulder, his teeth clenched tightly so that he doesn’t let anything slip.

At midnight he wakes up on the couch. Jack’s bedroom door is shut, he’s sleeping peacefully inside. His heating blanket is pulled up to his chin, the heat turned up all the way. He can’t remember getting into this state himself but he has a fate memory of JJ helping him move his hand to his mouth, encouraging him to take the pain killers before bed. Of Derek making sure he didn’t just fall straight over onto his side. He manages to find Dave stretched out on the Lazyboy -- the chair he got Hotch for his fifty-something birthday. He’ll wake up in the morning to more food being made in his lonely kitchen, JJ this time. She’ll make blueberry waffles.

If he’d wanted attention, Emily will tease the next morning, he could have just asked. And he didn’t even know he wanted this. He never finds the words to ask for it to continue but every Saturday morning it happens anyway -- his kitchen and living room full of pajamas and suits in varying degrees depending on who has what to do that morning. The fainting thing is not cool but he considers this to be a good trade.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #savannah hayes #hank morgan #jack hotchner #emily prentiss #david rossi #penelope garcia #spencer reid #jennifer jareau

63 notes · View notes