#thank you again anon <3 hope its still been enjoyable all these months later!!!

[nana2009]

I think i only follow this account because yandere Dave is really funny too me. Dave is probably one of my least favorite characters, and i was never into davekat, but the yandere shit, it's so funny. I love how you draw and talk please never stop posting.

heheheeee thank you anon ♡ i like making dave a degenerate, it's what adds flavor to him for me >ᴗ<

[reluctant-mandalore]

may i request din finding out his s/o is a sith lord when they go to rescue grogu and later while cuddling have a “Tell me every terrible thing you’ve done and let me love you anyways” moment

Warnings: hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, sith!reader, established relationship, playing with canon, kissing, not beta read. 

Word Count: 3679

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader (also sith!Reader) 

a/n: Hey anon!! Thank you so much for the request and sorry its taken so long for me to finish it! I hit a huge writing block with requests and decided to focus on other works. That combined with how busy school got, I fell super behind on fics. Anyway, the concept of sith!reader was really fun to explore and honestly it was something I wanted to explore long before I got this request. I might write a few other things for sith reader of y’all are interested. Otherwise I hope you all enjoy <3 

Note: fic will be labeled as ‘secrets revealed’ on my masterlist and on ao3. 

“Look at you darling! Switching sides must come really easily for you, hm?”

Moff Gideon’s words had echoed throughout the cockpit, his image flickering within the hologram that shined before the three of you currently stood there. A sharp pain of dread had bubbled within you at the weight of what he had said, unease finding itself littering within your thoughts as the meaning behind it had settled among you all. You knew eventually this would come up, but had you thought you would have more time before it did. Honestly you didn’t think it would be here so soon, otherwise you would have already prepared yourself for this discussion with the Mandalorian.

“What?”

“Oh you didn’t know Mando?” Moff Gideon had smirked, his smile the most sickening thing you had ever laid your sights on, “Your little friend there is a sith.”

The Mandalorian’s gaze had snapped to yours in an instant, confusion and concern held within its blistering depth. He didn’t know much in regards to the sith, but he had learned well enough about them in his time traveling with the child. He had heard the horrors of what they had done—the wars they had raged and slaughters they had committed—he knew that the sith weren’t good. In fact they were the exact opposite of good. The sith were dark and evil on all accounts.

“That… That’s not true.” He had said in disbelief, the idea of you being one of them seeming so unlikely to him. You had always been so sweet and kind, treating the child as if he was your own. Even caring for him and the Mandalorian as if you were family. You couldn’t be a sith. “He’s lying. Right cyar’ika?”

Unmistakable shame had consumed you at his words, and you had looked away from him at his pleading question. You couldn’t seem to form an answer, and honestly you didn’t know if you wanted to, especially not with how he was looking at you in the moment.

“Mando listen… I-”

“-And,” Gideon’s voice had cut you off, his enjoyment of your suffering in the situation clear in just his tone alone, “They’ve been working with me the entire time. Well. They were at least. Doesn’t seem like you’ll be bringing me the child anytime soon there, especially not when you’re playing house with a Mandalorian.”

At the imperial’s words, Din’s gaze had finally moved from yours and down to the child that was still held tightly in your arms. His fingers visibly twitching with the sudden need to snatch the little one from your grasp. His concern and worry was evident even with the helmet that shielded his expression from your view. The sight of which had only caused for your heart to crack with sadness at the mistrust he was sending your way.

“Well congratulations my dear sith lord on your happily ever after!” Gideon had said as he ended off his call with a laugh. The holopad shutting off soon after, and allowing for a deathly silence to fall over the room once more. The air of the small space now feeling tight, and almost suffocating, as you two stared at one another for what felt like an eternity.

The Mandalorian had approached you cautiously after some time. Every step he took calculated, and slower, the closer he got. He had soon nearly snatched the child from your grasp—almost as if touching you for even the slightest of seconds would have burned him—now shielding the little one away from your prying eyes, and whatever evil he must have thought you carried.

You couldn’t blame him of course. As you probably would have reacted in the same way if you were in his shoes, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to see your beloved Mandalorian responding like this to the news. It hurt to see his mistrust in you.  

“Din…”

“Let’s get out of here.” He had replied sternly, setting the child down in his own seat far away on the other side of the room, before motioning for you to take the other opposite one. “We need to get as far away from here as possible. Don’t want Gideon catching up.”

Another wave of pain had washed over you at his sudden coldness, causing your eyes to brim with tears, as you had nodded and followed the Mandalorian’s directions anyway. You didn’t have the heart to argue or even defend yourself at this time. Din was right after all, you three needed to leave the area as quickly as possible. The Imperial and his ship were surely close on your tail if he had felt the need to speak with you over the communicator.

The ride to the next planet was dreadfully quiet. Not even the child had cooed or chattered on the way there. Instead he had simply stared between you two with lowered ears and wide confused eyes. He had to have known something was going on, though it was unclear if he knew exactly what had been said and done.

Eventually the ship had landed flawlessly thanks to the Mandalorian’s piloting. Than a quick check of the area had made it apparent that you three had managed to escape the Empire’s hold once again.

You had watched as the Mandalorian fiddled with the control panel. He was making sure the ship was settled and secure just as he always did after landing, though this time you could see the unease in each of his movements. He hadn’t said a word to you yet, but you knew the two of you would have to talk about what happened sooner or later. Better now than never.

“Din I think we need to talk.”

“I’m putting the kid to bed.” He had stated simply, not even looking at you as he stood from his and made his way down to the hold with the child in toe,  “It's way past his bedtime.”

You didn’t say anything in response to his words after he had left you alone in the cockpit. Instead you had chosen to move down into the hull and to your own cot silently, as you figured that you wouldn’t push him to talk tonight. Though of course, this reasoning of yours hadn’t stopped the feeling of guilt and despair settling firmly within your gut from the brisk interaction.

The sheets there were stiff and cold as you laid within them. Clearly they hadn’t been used in a long while, as you usually choose to share the sleeping quarters which belonged to the Mandalorian with him. Both of you had enjoyed the other's presence more than sleeping alone, and with your growing relationship, it just seemed normal for you two to begin sleeping in the same bed.

Tonight of course would be the first in a long time where you would be sleeping alone again.

From your cot you could take in the sight of Din rocking the child, as he tried to sooth the little one into resting. He had seemed to struggle with it tonight. The kid was far too restless to want to sleep any time soon—regardless of the long day he had just suffered through. You had watched the two of them for another moment, smiling sadly, before closing the curtain which had once provided you with privacy. Although tonight it had only felt like another wall between you and your family. Now existing only as a reminder of the details of your life you had hidden from them all this time.

Din had eventually managed to get the kid to lay down and sleep. A sigh of relief could be heard from the other side of the curtain that had separated your space from the surrounding area. More rustling and the clicking of metal could be heard shortly after. The sound of it making you realize that he was now getting himself ready for bed. You had figured he wouldn’t be coming to see you that night, but the confirmation had still felt icy to your heart, and you found yourself once again on the brink of crying.

That’s probably why the knock on the wall next to your cot was such a shock to you. It was Din’s usual way of asking for permission to enter your enclosed space. He was always kind and considerate, wanting to make sure that you were always comfortable regardless of whatever else had happened. Tonight seemed to be no different in this regard at least, and you took comfort in what little normality you could hold onto.

“You can come in.” You had answered quietly, propping yourself up as you watched him pull the curtain back to let himself in, forcing a smile at the sight of him entering. “Is the kid ok?”

The Mandalorian had already stripped himself down to his under clothes and helmet. The metal shield which still remained over his face was a clear sign that he had been feeling uncomfortable and uneasy in the moment. You two had been together for a long while now, and he had ended up showing you his face some months ago. It was still only a recent development in your blossoming relationship, and it was one you were sure you had just ruined for the man with your lies now unraveled.

No wonder he had chosen to keep it on this fateful night.

“He took longer to put down than usual.” He had said when your gaze had locked with his visor, though he had soon broken the contact all too quickly, looking away as he stood awkwardly before you. “He seems restless.”

“That’s surprising.” You had said, though your mind wondered if the child was so restless because he could tell his parents were currently at odds with one another. “You’d think after the long day he’s had he would be exhausted.”

The Mandalorian had only let out a grunt in reply, sitting himself next to you on the cot as another silence had fallen between you two. He had looked down to his hands, twiddling them nervously, as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. He had looked up again briefly, as if he was trying to gage your expression, or even understand what you must have been thinking, but he had ended up lowering his sight again before finally deciding on what to say to you.

“So you’re a sith lord.”

The way he had gone straight to the point had almost made you feel surprised, but knowing him well, meant knowing that he was one to never beat around the bush. This was especially true when it came to important topics or situations, and even more so when they involved the child.

“Well no—I mean yes—but it's complicated and…” You had trailed off, looking away from him again as you tried to piece together exactly what you had wanted to tell him. Although you knew you had to tell him the truth regardless of how you felt and how much you wish you could just bury your past away from his sight. “Yes. At least at one point I was, not really sure if I count as one now.”

“Why?”

“I… I don’t know.” You had said, another wave of guilt washing over you at your words. Honestly you had felt unsure of what to say, or even how to explain it all to him. It wasn’t as if you had planned for your life to have gone that way. “Din I’m so sorry”

The Mandalorian had looked over at you, his own confession clear in just his voice alone, “Why are you apologizing?”

“I mean… I’ve done terrible things.”

“So have I.”

“No Din.” You choked out a sob, your lip trembling between each word that was spoken between you two, finding that you weren’t able to keep your tears in any longer. “I’ve actually done unspeakable things. I’m quite literally the worst of the worst.”

To your shock, his arms had moved to pull you into his chest, and you had found yourself cradled there as he hummed in a calming manor. “Tell me everything Cyar’ika.”

Those words from your love were the last ones to bring your already crumbling walls down. Your confession soon spilling out of you like the fiercest of storms. It seemed to have no end as you had rambled all your wrong doings to the man before you. All the way from how you had fallen, to the mission you had received from moff Gideon, and everything in between—there was nothing that wasn’t revealed by you to him in that moment.

Every confession had only brought more tears to flow from you, and as they piled higher you knew you had become closer to losing the man you loved. You had expected him to be disgusted and furious. You had assumed he would toss you aside and leave you to wallow in your disgrace. Any sane person would have, and you wouldn’t blame them.

The Mandalorian had done the opposite though, instead choosing to hold you close to him, as you talked and talked. Your whole life and terrible deeds being fed to him one by one. Even then he had never let go of you—even when hearing the worst things you had ever done—he had just kept you held tight in his arms while listening.

Eventually your words had died out, your confession of sins over as you now silently cried in his arms. His embrace had remained as a calming presence, and his shoulder had become a sturdy place for you to cry into, as you only broke down further into his arms. His hand had gently run soothingly circles along your spine—the same way that you had done for him on some of his worst nights—and his voice had been soft as he spoke reassurance to you in the most softest of tones.  

“I’m sorry.” You had mumbled again into his chest. “Din I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Was what he said true? About the child and your mission.” Din had asked, whatever he was feeling now unreadable, as he had waited for your response.

You had only nodded in reply at first, burying your face farther into the crook of his neck, though you knew you did not deserve such a comfort. “It is. All of it. I was supposed to take him from you after earning your trust and then take him back to Moff Gideon—leaving you for dead.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Din’s question had made you pull back and look away. A wave of heat washing over you at the answer which danced at the tip of your tongue. He had waited patiently for your reply though, allowing you to take as much time as you needed to form your thoughts together properly.

“Because I fell in love with you. I love you so much Din.” You had whispered as you looked back to him. His grip on you only tightening at hearing those words leave your lips. “I fell in love with you and the child. You’re the most important things to me. I’ve never had a family before now, but you two… you both treated me as such without a second thought.”

A sound of the child crying had interrupted you both before Din could form a reply, and he had found himself letting go of you, so he could stand and go to sooth the little one. You had quickly stopped him though, looking up at him through pleading and tear stained eyes.

“I… can I? Please?”

Din had stared at you for a moment, and it felt as if you would combust on the spot if he didn’t answer soon. After a brief silence, he had moved his own hand to brush away the tears on your cheek. The feeling of his skin against yours a comfort that you had found yourself leaning into while also basking in the warmth it had brought.

“Of course cyar’ika.”

From his words, you had soon stood and quickly made your way to the child. Even sooner, you had scooped the crying infant into your arms, rocking him back and worth, as you did your best to soothe him. A quiet and soft hum leaving you as you calmed the little child wailing in your arms.

The Mandalorian had watched from the sidelines, his heart swelling and overflowing with his fondness at the sight of the two of you together. He had continued watching even after the child’s cries had subsided, his gaze never leaving you two, as you had tucked the little creature back into his bed. He had soon stood again from the cot after that, quietly removing the helmet he wore and setting it to the side, before making his way over to where you still stood watching over the resting child.

“I love you too cyar’ika.” He had whispered when his body pressed into yours, his breath ghosting over your ear, as he pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. The scuff on his chin tickling you and sending another flush of warmth to coarse through your form again.

A small gasp had left your lips at his sudden touch and a few stray tears had formed at the corner of your eyes once more. “Din I… are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Even after everything I told you?” You had turned in his arms and felt your grip tighten along his own. Your eyes searching his for any doubt that they may have held, but instead only finding his undeniable love and fondness staring back at you within his brown hues. “Do you really still love me?”

“Yes cyar’ika. I still love you.” He had said, a small smile gracing his lips, as he nuzzled his nose against your own. “I never stopped.”

“But earlier...”

“I won’t lie, I was concerned and worried after hearing what Moff Gideon had said.” He had confessed, looking away almost shamefully, “I was scared that everything between us was a lie, and I feared that the child was in danger, or maybe had been for longer than I thought he was. I was afraid cyar’ika. I’m sorry.”

You had looked away again, another ping of guilt blossoming within your heart at the sadness you had heard in his voice, “I… Din I don’t know what to say honestly. Other than the fact that it's not you who should be apologizing.”

“Don’t be like that cyar’ika.” He had said gently, allowing himself to press another kiss to your forehead. “Now come on. It’s late, and you look exhausted.”

The Mandalorian had soon guided you to the cot again, and you had found yourself settled against his chest while wrapped tightly in his arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you could still see where the child slept soundly, and you had found yourself watching over him as you both laid there together in the darkness. The sound of the littles snores from the small creature, having brought a small smile to your face, before your mind had begun to wander back to earlier times.

“He knows.” You had said out of the blue, your tired voice causing the man’s eyes to flicker open and glance back down to you in his arms.

“Who?”

“The child.” You had replied, finally looking away from where the child slept, as you played and toyed anxiously with Din’s fingers that had intertwined themselves with yours.  “He must have felt it through the force. He could always tell what I was, and could always sense the darkness within me. He’s always known.”

“Hm. Is that why he didn’t like you at first?” Din had teased, and you felt his lips smile against your skin where they had rested themselves earlier.  

“Probably.” You had allowed yourself to chuckle at the thought. The little creature really hadn’t liked you at first, always throwing up a fit and glaring at you when he thought you had gotten too close to Din. “I don’t blame him, the sith and jedi aren’t exactly on good terms.”

“So I’ve heard.”

A smile played on your lips at his reply, and you snuggled yourself more into his chest at the feeling of his hand trailing along your back. The circles he drew causing small shivers and a wave of warmth to flow through you again. The gesture having relaxed you and allowed for your thoughts to teeter on the edge of sleep.

“I meant what I said you know? About everything.” You had mumbled with another yawn, as your eyes struggled to stay open, “I really do love you and Grogu.”

“I know, and we both love you as well.” Din had shushed you, allowing himself to kiss your forehead and mumble his own reassurance again. “Now get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning once you’ve rested, ok?”

You had nodded, resisting the tears that had tried to fall from your eyes again, as you had completely relaxed into his arms now. The need for sleep pulling you closer and closer to the dreamland you had so desired in the moment.

Din on the other hand had continued to draw shapes along your back, his eyes closed, as he murmured and hummed the sweetest of things into the kisses he left along your skin. Somewhere deep inside of your soul you had felt as if you didn’t deserve his kindness and love, but you had found yourself drowning within his affections anyway, clinging to his presence in a refusal to let it go.

The Mandalorian had no plans of letting you go anyway. He would hold you within his embrace and love you for as long as you allowed him to. Through the bad and the good—he’d be by your side even through the toughest of times. After all, you were a part of his little clan of three, and regardless of your past—he loved you like no other.

[shadowdianne]

Okay but it would be really cute for a Cissamione prompt to be like, at a ball or something and Andy interrupts them before they kiss 🤣

Nine months later here I present…. Something Xd Hope you like it anon <3 And thanks for the prompt 😉

As always ever-present reminder that I might be a little bit of a brat when it comes to details… and far too invested in long sentences, lack of perfect edition if I happen to write this in the middle of the night as it is, and far too short actual dialogue. Apologies for everything and I do hope this is enjoyable.

Less of me, on with this :P

 Lights illuminated the room, pools of flickering flame that climbed their way through the decorations that had been carefully hexed a few hours prior, so they maintained their shape and form while floating soundlessly above the chatting crowd below. Marble and wood splayed beyond the lights, its colors swallowing whatever little droplets of that very same light that absconded its way into Narcissa’s hair for everything that Hermione was concerned.

Unperturbed, or perhaps far too lost in the other witch’s silhouette, the brunette witch didn’t quite see her fellow colleagues as they laughed and talked around her, conversations inane, lacking most of the times, insipid, and far too work-related in others even if today’s ball had been called in the hopes, perhaps, of creating a divisive line between work and pleasure. After all, Imbolc was shining bright among the magic present in the air and the ones at the ballroom, the members of the Ministry that is, weren’t the only ones celebrating such a moment. Beyond the curtains and veils and walls so carefully jinxed so no muggle could hear them above in the grey-surfaced city, many other members of the Wizarding Community would be enjoying the festivity as well. And yet, Hermione had caught herself realizing, half-apologizingly, despite the boredom their conversations had for her that she would have been one of the many others who couldn’t quite separate themselves from their work-related company if it hadn’t been -that is- for the far too good dressed witch that had made her entrance just late enough for the alcohol to have been poured and refilled more than twice already.

She had hoped she would come, she had given her own invite herself after all; a cacophony of nerves and what-ifs stuck at the back of her throat as she had played with the envelope made out in parchment and pressed celandine and violets that had left minute granules she has promptly shaken off as Narcissa had risen her brows and tilted her head, all angles and shadows and eyes that shone as conjured ice.

“Are you sure of this?” She had asked then, within the confines of the apartment that had become theirs even if none of them dared to speak such truth out loud. Despite the reality of Narcissa still living at the Manor that had become rightfully hers after the Trials and the divorce and some other legal affairs that had become far too long to enumerate while trying to find the better way to explain that nothing would please her and burn her more than seeing her there, among others, next to her, distance close enough that maybe, just maybe, she could grab her fingers and squeeze them between hers.

Hermione had bitten into her bottom lip then, sheets around her, the chill of mid-January chasing the fine hairs at the back of her hair as she moved up on their bed, moving closer, farther from where she had fished out the letter from, a simple, sober “And plus one” written at the very top of the envelope on itself. The words laconic, mute of the colors Narcissa’s eyes kept on bringing as she scanned the parchment again and again, as if waiting for the letters to slid of the page, transformed into fog and glass. She had taken Narcissa’s empty hand with one of hers then, kissing the palm, curving her fingers along so the blonde witch would mimic her as she laid her chin against their conjoined hands.

“Only if you want.” She had replied then, serious, expectant, willing, needy, burning.

But, the brunette witch now thought as she maneuvered herself away from her colleagues, away from the walls, away from the fire and flames that framed the edges of a room that couldn’t contain the happiness at seeing Narcissa entering and searching for her, finding her and promptly doing the same as she was doing, wasn’t Imbolc meant to be fire? Didn’t she deserve to have the one she wanted at her side then and there? She emitted a small smile as she finally moved close enough for Narcissa to grasp both of her hands by her wrists, thumb running through her pulse points, as she appraised her, blonde and dark on her hair, glass, and jewels on her hair, black and fire and white on her silhouette having forgone her usual Slytherin colors for something more appropriate for the evening and reason of the party itself.

Hermione knew her stunning, knew her beautiful, gorgeous, divine, and with that in mind, she licked her lips and reminded herself, dazedly, that despite her will and want and accepted offer at accompanying her neither of them had truly talked about how much or how little would they be willing to show. So, sadly, she pressed her lips together, blushing, always blushing, and -still trapped by Narcissa’s hands, turned them palm up so she could feel the tipping dance of the blonde’s own heartbeat against the pads of her fingers. A staccato of nerves and -yet- resolution.

“Been some time since I was here.” The blonde mentioned, almost in passing, eyes glued to the walls, to Hermione if the brunette narrowed her eyes enough to see the quick pupil movement. Anything, everything, that would shield them both to the onlookers, the ones who were trying to be subtle, the ones who weren’t. “I like what they have done for today. You will need to tell me if you managed to get them to do the eternal flame spell you talked me about.”

Narcissa had been pardoned. In a fashion, after a trial that had been far too long and work that had needed to be done inside the blonde’s own mind once she had risen her head towards the Wizengamot and admitted her part, subscribing to where her faults had lied, admitting her will of changing, of not quite leaving everything behind but ready to try to. She had paid, obliging to what both others wanted of her and she herself had asked of her. And yet her presence, her memory, was still followed by the very same eyes that glanced and looked and judged Hermione’s own presence in the Ministry, even after all those years, even after showcasing time and time again that her place there hadn’t been nepotism but something earned, something good.

So she jutted out her chin and pretended not to see them, none of them, as she glanced up towards the fires; the colors changing ever so slowly from bright red to purple and mauve if one stared at them long enough.

“They finally went with a spell over Incendio so the flames remained cold longer.” She informed, contrite and Narcissa scoffed a little as she -sadly- dropped her hands, grasping a glass that had floated towards her in the attempt to get her to start drinking.

“Their miss.” She said, taking a sip, liquid splashing slowing, lazily, as she appraised Hermione with the promise of a shadow of a smile, eyes slow, weighing, smoldering.

Maybe she should just kiss her, no matter the murmurs and scolds and gasps and questions that would come later. Or maybe she could just, simply, ask her to leave the place, find another one, secluded, safe.

“I…”

Her train of thought was interrupted, however, when a profile appeared amongst the many others around them all, the instantaneous wave of panic not appearing as it had once done but yet making her tremble with the realization they were about to be interrupted by none other than Narcissa’s sister as Andromeda promptly abandoned her own conversation with some members of a department Hermione didn’t truly focus on, and strode towards them with the resolution of someone about to start an equally long conversation with them both.

“Your sister is here.” She said in the spare seconds they had, the flashing idea of convincing Narcissa to climb to her own office, beyond the hall, beyond the elevators, beyond the sleeping memorandums turning into ash.

While Narcissa baited looks, Andromeda was a very different beast altogether. She had been, after all, the good sister as far as the general public was concerned. She wasn’t followed nor judged but was still as looked at as the others who have been there, on their own, during the war. She was invited to the usual feasts, however, either by ones or others wanting to get some edge out of the almost perfect living copy of Bellatrix Lestrange herself and so as she moved everyone deferred around her as her smile caught Narcissa’s eyes the second the blonde turned towards where Hermione’s gaze was lost, shoulders rising in surprise at the sight.

“I didn’t know you had been invited Cissy! I would have sent you an invite but I was already a plus one…”

“I was, kind of a last-minute thing, though, hence why I couldn’t find a moment for…”

They were warm to each other, the sadness that had peppered their conversations having been diluted some time ago. And so, Hermione couldn’t blame Andromeda for wanting a moment with her younger sister. Decided to move away, leave them so they could be as free as they could be among so many others, she stepped at her right, a passing caress on Narcissa’s forearm that could very well look intentional to others who were paying enough attention.

“Andy.” She said, all smiles and warm eyes but the other witch wasn’t having any of it and, grabbing her by the very same point her sister had had mere moments before, she spun Hermione until she was between them both, head tilted, mischievous.

“Oh no you don’t.” She said merrily. “You are going to stay here and listen as I ask my sister why she hasn’t kissed you yet. Noisy ones be dammed, Cissy, have you seen her?”

Oh, well. Or she could just question if she could ask for a non-verbal approach of disappearing without a trace.

[otome0heart]

Hi! ^^ I'm glad to find another Mitsuhide fan! Since you're open to requests, I'd like to ask for some fluff/romance with the prompt "poetry". I don't mind it being in the Sengoku Period or an AU, whatever you prefer. Thank you! ♡ And Happy Birthday!

Hello Anon! (灬ºωº灬) Thanks to you for requesting something! And for your good wishes!

As you asked, here’s some Mitsuhide and poetry. It’s set in a Modern AU (I told you I was dangerous regarding that XDDD). I sincerely hope that you like it *^^*

Title: The Poetry of Love

Characters: Mitsuhide/MC

Words: 3720 (no, I don’t know how to write short stories ^^U)

Notes: There’s actual poetry scattered in the story, three poems, to be precise.

1. Kobayashi Issa, 1763 - 1827

2. Ono no Komachi, 825 - 900

3. Kitahara Hakushu, 1885 - 1942

Also, there’s a modified quote from the film “Sense and Sensibility” (1996) marked with an *

Tagging @han-pan and @otonymous, great Mitsuhide fans, like me ✿

THE POETRY OF LOVE

As part of his every day routine, Akechi Mitsuhide walked along the tall bookcases that filled the little library he worked in, his fingers sometimes brushing the spine of one of his favourite books, his eyes warming when they fell on a title which brought back memories of childhood laughter or sleepless nights under the covers, devouring pages until the hero triumphed at the end, and his heartbeat calmed down as excitement gave way to a satisfactory feeling.

He stepped out of the prose fiction narrative side, crossed the room, passing by his desk, near the main entrance, and entered the poetry section. Despite being a fan of action and historical stories, filled with samurai devoted to their code of honour, what had truly enchanted his heart, and what had made him who he was in the present, was poetry. He had loved learning by heart the little poems his teachers had taught during his lessons in kindergarten and the first years of primary school, and he remembered himself reciting them once and again as he bounced up and down the stairs of his family house, or running around in her grandmother’s traditional garden. Those were about animals and plants, and a smile found its way across his lips as they recited one in a murmur.

Splish, splash (Neko arau)

The cat washes (Zabu zabu kawa ya)      

Spring rain (Haru no ame)

That had been one of the reasons why he had studied Japanese Literature at university and why he had decided to be a librarian. He hoped that somebody else could discover how fun literature could be.

However, when he had arrived at that library, located in a little town in the center of Japan, he had discovered that his work would not probably be as enjoyable as his young self had thought it would be. It was in an old building in need of many repairs, it was disorganised and only old people and young students in need visited it. With great effort, and applying for funds to the different governments, he had renewed the furniture, sorted out the books in sections and started having small events that little by little, had attracted more people, especially children.

He sat down on the floor in an almost hidden corner at the end of the corridor where the oldest books were. It was the place he loved the most in that old building. There, he had found his solace when sometimes his efforts had not been rewarded, especially at the beginning. In those times, after closing, he prepared himself some tea in the back room and brought a cup there, picking up a random book on his way, spending hours in silence until his body started to give in to the tiredness of the day, his soul at peace and ready to face the following day with new strength.

His fingertips brushed the back of the bookcase on his left and he extracted a volume from it. It was bound in the traditional way and, opposite to the rest, it belonged to him. Opening it, he leafed through it, glancing over the numerous notes he had written across the pages until he found an envelope between them. It was a bit discoloured and rumpled after all the times he had taken the letter out and read it, but it was the most treasured thing he possessed in this world. He opened it and his eyes fell on the words that he already knew by heart.

Thinking about you, (Omoi tsutsu)

I slept and saw you (Nu re baya hito no)

In the dream. (Mie zu ram)

If I had known it’d have been dream, (Yume to shiri seba)

I wouldn’t have woken up. (Same zara mashi wo)

He read it a second time and then, put the paper back in the envelope, and this, inside the book, not wanting to risk anybody knowing that he had given his heart a long time ago to someone he was not allowed to love. He had met her a few weeks after he had arrived in the town. She was an almost seventeen-year-old high school student who had arrived there in search of a book for a project and, he could not help a smile as he closed his eyes and leant back his head on the wall, he had never seen someone so lost before. It had been so obvious that it was the first time she had stepped in that place and he had helped her as much as he had been able to in her research. She was the oldest child of the owner of a traditional restaurant he had passed a few times on his way to and back from the library but with so much work ahead of him, he had not had time to go up to that moment. Days later, she had returned with a bento for him, filled with delicacies that he had discovered she had cooked herself, as a token of gratitude, and he had taken a break to enjoy a delicious meal for the first time since he had arrived.

However, contrary to this first impression, during their conversation at lunch she proved to be intelligent, curious and with a deep thirst for knowledge. From then on, they had enjoyed little conversations about literature, animals and many other topics over tea whenever she had free time and there were no people there and sometimes, she had helped him set some of the events.

He had been really surprised when months later, on Valentine’s Day, she had given him some chocolates and a love letter. Her cheeks had been red as roses in full bloom and her shy smile beautiful and enchanting. And it had been at that precise moment that he had realised how deep in love he was with her. However, not even opening the message, and as gently as he could, he had rejected her. She was still a child and there was a whole world of wonders and experiences waiting for her. He would not be the one to steal that from her and taint her innocence. She had just nodded, trying to contain her tears and had told him with a trembling voice to keep the chocolates, since she had made them only for him.

With a heavy heart but being convinced that he had done the correct thing, he had resigned himself to having lost a true friend and a kindred soul. However, he had been extremely surprised when, a few days later, she had visited the library again. Her eyes were slightly red and puffy, and her smile a bit hesitant, but as she had told him, he was very important to her and she wanted to have him in her life even if they could not become something more.

Mitsuhide smiled. She was a truly admirable woman and he was glad that they could continue enjoying each other’s company up to the present.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Her voice reached his ears and he smiled softly as he opened his eyes and looked at her. Five years had already passed since that fateful Valentine’s Day, and he had seen her graduate, study to be a cook and start working in her parents’ traditional restaurant, which she would run next to her brother when they retired. He still loved her, dearly, deeply. Her smile brought sunshine to the deepest and darkest corners of his soul and every time her pupils shone with excitement or concern, or sadness, he felt those emotions echoing inside him too.

“You always know” he watched her walk to him. “How’s your stay in Tokyo been?”

“Really good. I learnt a lot these three weeks during the cooking course and also, I met very important chefs.”

“I’m glad.”

She sat down opposite him, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous spark.

“How about you? Already feeling depressed for being a year older?”

His smile broadened at her playful teasing and he lifted a brow.

“And who’s the one who prefers the company of this old sulking man?”

She giggled softly.

“Well, it’s not so bad to have birthdays… You get presents, secret pa-”

She interrupted herself, her hand flying to her mouth and Mitsuhide’s eyes opened with slight terror.

“Please, tell me that you didn’t…”

She shook her head, her hand still covering half of her face.

“I know how much you dislike big gatherings. It was Nobunaga’s idea and, even though we tried to persuade him, once he sets his mind on something, it’s impossible to make him change his mind.”

He sighed, nodding absently. He had met the entrepreneur when he had established himself there the year before. It was really strange for an important person to settle down in such a place, so he had been the talk of the town for quite a few weeks. But, as the man had told him later, he needed a change of scene and since he mostly worked from home, it did not matter where he was. They had become acquaintances and then, friends quickly. Since Nobunaga liked to meddle in other people’s affairs, as soon as he had known about the financial troubles the librarian was having, he had invested money, first to make some expensive repairs the old building needed and later, when the funds from the prefecture government he was expecting were denied. Every time, he had said that it was a good investment to pay less taxes, but Mitsuhide knew that, behind that cheeky arrogant character of his laid a generous heart and a true friend.

“But please, look surprised when you arrive at the restaurant tonight. He’ll have my head if he suspects I told you…”

“Don’t worry” he assured her with a small smile. “I’ll be speechless for sure. Who knows what he’s planning…”

She laughed and he marvelled, once again, at the sound, clear like bells ringing.

“And, what are you doing here? It’s really early…”

A barely imperceptible change in her features, something that for others would have passed unnoticed but not for someone who knew her so well as him, sparked his curiosity, but also his concern .

“Nothing, really. I just-” she put her hand in the pocket of the denim jacket she wore. “I just wanted to wish you a happy day and give you your present before anyone else.”

Mitsuhide rolled his eyes with a wry smile.

“Oh, gods, how many more plans do you know about?”

“I lost count” she looked at him with a smug smile but a moment later, she became serious. “You’re a very appreciated man here, Mitsuhide.”

“I just love my job and these old books” his fingers trailed down the side of the bookcase next to him, looking around fondly. “And I’d like everybody to enjoy them and feel the joy they can bring, even just a little.”

“And they love you for it” a soft smile had drawn across her mouth as a lovely blush coloured her face, and his heart skipped a beat.

However, she seemed to caught herself and she turned her head away from him, as if she were afraid of having revealed something, fidgeting for a moment with the things she had taken out of her pocket before putting them on the floor, in front of him.

“Happy birthday” she said putting her hands on her lap and bowing slightly.

A small box and an envelope. Mitsuhide felt his throat dry, remembering a similar day, five years before. She had given him other presents, big wooden boxes which contained tea cups, or rectangular parcels wrapped in colourful papers that hid books that he kept in a special shelf at home, but never again a letter and a small box.

She stood up.

“I’ll have a look at a couple of shelves down the corridor before going home” she hesitated for a moment. “Open them whenever you want and… I’d be grateful if you read it this time, please.”

She disappeared from his sight as she turned around one of the bookcases and his gaze fell on the gifts with a feeling of apprehension. It was as if fate was mocking him and he was condemned to repeat that moment again. He did not want to hurt her.

However, a voice whispered at the back of his mind, she was not a child anymore. She was now a fully grown woman who did not need anyone else to protect her anymore. He did not have to think of what was best for her because she was the one who made the decisions about her own life now.

He realised with a slight startle that his hand was reaching out for the box and he stopped himself. What would he do if it was what he thought? He had spent so much time loving her and at the same time, repressing his feelings that he was afraid of the chance of them being returned with no obstacles between them, of setting free the fire inside him and consume her because deep inside the kind, level-headed librarian, there was a shadow of possessiveness and passion that sometimes, he could barely control.

But also, it could be something else. Maybe it was just an innocent card wishing him Happy Birthday, or some Tokyo-related postcard that she had thought he might like.

Whatever it was, she had asked him to read it and, as her friend and a man true to his word, he would do it. Breathing deeply, he took the box and opened it.

Inside, there was a beautiful leather double-wrap bracelet with a silver bellflower, his favourite, on top. He admired the work for a moment and then, put it on his right wrist. It was perfect, simple, elegant and yet, modern.

Leaving the box aside, he picked up the envelope. It was made of thick blue paper and his name was on the front with small characters, slightly round and carefully written. Inhaling once more, he opened it and took a folded paper of the same colour from inside. Her calligraphy was delicate and clean, and immediately told him how much time she had spent on it.

‘Dear Mitsuhide,

I think I can imagine what you’re experiencing as you start reading this. It seems like we went back five years ago, on a rainy Valentines Day that has never faded from my memories. To tell you the truth, I feel really stupid doing this but I won’t be at peace with myself unless I try one more time. As you said, I was a child then and, such as one, I got impatient and I let my feelings for you overflow. I know I hurt you and that I risked our beautiful bond. After my confession and our conversation, I considered myself really fortunate because you overlooked that mistake and kept on behaving the same, without feeling uncomfortable or trying to put some distance between us. If you felt otherwise, you fooled me completely.

This time, I’m talking as the woman I’ve become. Looking back with the maturity these years gave me, I can say that I truly feel thankful because you rejected me that day. You gave me the best present I’ve ever received: the wings to fly, the space to grow and enjoy that world of wonders and experiences, as you called it, and the precious treasure of your company and friendship.

However, I need to say that my love not only did not fade away but grew stronger and that my heart was, is and always will be yours.* I don’t have any expectations but sometimes, there’s been something in your eyes, in the way you look and smile at me, that never let the tiny hope still left inside of me die.

So now you know, but I’m not going to pressure you for an answer. I can wait. I only ask of you to see me for who I am now and think about it carefully. And in the case that you reject me a second time, I won’t bring up the topic ever again. I don’t want to hurt you or our friendship anymore. I cherish your presence in my life more than anything in the world.

Your faithful friend.’

Mitsuhide swallowed hard, re-reading the last lines again, before scrambling to his feet and starting to look for her among the bookcases. He did not need to think of anything. He already knew the answer. That their feelings had not vanished in five years had to mean that, as foolish as it sounded, the red thread of destiny existed and his tied him to her inevitably. He loved her and for once, he was going to follow his heart and not his logic, to be selfish and grab the bliss that awaited him, to devote himself to her until his last breath and make her happy every single day of their lives.

The library had never seemed so big as that time, desperate as he was when he could not find her. Thinking that she might have already headed home, he turned on his heels to exit the back door to catch her before she reached her house and suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimpse of purple, the same colour of the skirt she was wearing.

He stopped in his tracks to drink in the sight of her. She had an open book in her hands, but her absent expression and that her eyes were a bit misty told him that her mind was far away from there, probably the reason why she had not noticed him standing there, a few meters from her.

He took the first step, his fingers gripping tightly the letter still in his hand and suddenly, she lifted her head, clearly shaken, his widened eyes falling on him. All colour drew from her face and her lips parted slightly. silently, he reached and took her into the circle of his arms, burying his face in her hair. She stiffened for a moment just before returning his embrace with as much strength as him, a strangled sob leaving her throat upon hearing his words in her ear, only for her.

A Hyacinth, (Hiyashinsu)

The pale purple colored (Usumurasaki ni)

Flower bloomed. (Saki ni keri)

It was the first day (Hajimete kokoro)

She shook my heart. (Furuisome shi hi)

“Shhh, don’t cry, my darling…” he cooed softly, cradling her head into the curve of his neck. “I’m so sorry for having made you wait for so long… I thought I was the mature one but it’s obvious that it was me who wasn’t ready…”

She shook her head.

“You’re always so warm-hearted to everybody… I believed I was mistaking your kindness for something else when I tried to read your feelings…” she took a ragged breath. “I was so afraid, I thought you’d be so disappointed with me after leaving the matter behind five years ago…”

“I was happy just seeing you smile… I was ready to give you up and support you when you chose a good man, since I refused to have any hopes after that day… You were so young, I thought that you’d forget about your affection as time passed by…” he made a pause, tightening his hold on her, enjoying her warmth. “And now, finally…”

She nodded and laughed, and he felt like he was soaring the sky.

“Don’t tell me I’ll have to cancel the party tonight.”

Both were startled by the brisk comment which came from the hall where the front desk was. There, a man wearing jeans, a grey shirt and a red jacket was looking at them with a slightly annoyed expression, though his pupils sparked with clear amusement. The couple let go of each other blushing profusely in clear embarrassment at having been caught.

“Now, don’t be such prudes” he said putting his hand in his waist. “I thought you were an item when I arrived here and met you both. It was so obvious to everybody except you two” he glanced at Mitsuhide. “I was tempted to give you a push, a big one, but I decided not to do your own damn job. Took you long enough.”

The librarian looked at him a bit confused for a moment, but them smiled.

“Thank you.”

Nobunaga seemed a bit uncomfortable for a moment.

“Well, since you’re busy and I have a meeting in an hour, let’s drop the matter of the new computers for another day. I’ll see you two tonight. Don’t be late or I’ll give you a truly unpleasant surprise you’ll never forget.”

They nodded, knowing very well that he would surely do it if they dared to disobey him. Nobunaga turned around and took a step, but then, he stopped, looked over his shoulder and smiled softly, something that they had rarely seen.

“Happy birthday, Mitsuhide. You deserve it.”

And then, he walked to the door with quick steps.

They smiled at each other, amused expressions on their faces.

“He’s like a whirlwind…”

“Yes” he agreed with a fond expression on his face.

Looking into her eyes, and forgetting about their interruption at once, he lifted his hand and caressed her face tenderly, brushing away any traces left of her tears. She bit her lip and half closed her eyes.

“Sorry I stained your shirt…”

“Don’t worry about that” his fingers stilled, cupping her cheek, and he searched her eyes for the slightest spark of doubt.

At that moment, a dull sound reached their ears and, though it was probably a book which had fallen from its upright position, he did not want to risk being caught again. He took her hand and brought her behind the bookcases. Taking her again in his arms, he leaned forward slowly, brushing his lips across her forehead, her temple and her cheek. Her lids fluttered closed immediately and, after making sure they were away from possible inopportune visits and prying eyes, he closed the distance between them. He did not want any witnesses of their first kiss.

THE END

[moonraccoon-exe]

That video where it was "Imagine Gladio and Iggy at 2 am stopping for gas and dancing" was the cutest thing? Could you please use ur amazing writing skills to make a small short fic about that?? ❤❤❤

[I had this ready,  the introduction comments included, since Monday but, y'know, life got in the way.¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Posting this because I have to come back to my askbox sooner or later, right? YOSHI!]

Okay, so.

This was an obscenely LONG time in my ask. Literal months. This is the oldest entry I have.

I sincerely apologize for the wait, dear anon. This wasn’t as difficult to answer, so I really offer no excuses. :’(

I hope from the bottom of my heart that you’re still around, dear anon, and that you see that I answered. Late, but I did! And if you are, there’s nothing I want more but for you particularly to enjoy of it.  ❤

1. The video dear anon talks about was very sadly taken down; it was my visual reference, and watching it with Gladio and Iggy in mind was incredibly adorable, far beyond anything that could be written. I’m sorry I took so long even the video was took down :’(  Here’s the link of my reblog, anyway.

2. The idea wasn’t mine; I was tagged and given the idea by @penguinqueen102301​ (their tags included)

3. “ ur amazing writing skills “ OIAJSDJSAOPJDAONF DFIODAJDOSI AHDASOD you anon have a virtual cookie AND ALL MY LOVE, thank you SO MUCH for such cute words!!  (*ﾉ▽ﾉ) ♡

Thank you for this incredible, delightful prompt that had me laughing and smiling and grinning the entire time :)

Ignis and Gladio dancing at a gast station at 2 a.m.

Because they’re adorable dorks.

It was very late at night by that point, but the car was running too short on gasoline.

There was no way in the world that Ignis would return Lord Amicitia’s car with an empty tank; his boyfriend’s dad kept him on a very positive view, and Ignis did not want to disappoint him. It was enough with taking Gladiolus back home at two in the morning (“I know it’s normal, but I still feel terrible each time. Yes, I know he knows and that we’ve got permission and that we want to stay out as late, but I still feel terrible each time. I don’t know, Gladiolus, stop questioning me!”), so to come back smelling of alcohol (not drunk, but how could Lord Amicitia know that?), probably disheveled, and on top of that with the car’s tank empty? Thanks, no, Ignis was a fine gentleman and an even better son-in-law, he was going to be properly grateful with Lord Amicitia for the support.

So, as late at night, with the streets empty like a ghost land, Ignis parked at the gas station. Perhaps it had been the silence of the night, or that they had already poured all their energy and words back in the ramen stall, or the club, or the park, but both of them had stayed quiet during the ride. They required of no words to enjoy of each other’s presence; they did not need to interact to let their bond grow. If anything, being as quiet was only more beautiful, for it meant they had enjoyed their date to its limit, and hence had nothing more to say. It was greatly enjoyable, driving in absolute silence.

Once parked, Gladio took his hand, kissed its back, and whispered “I’ve got this, babe”, before exiting the car and taking the task of filling the tank. Ignis, by nature, quickly glanced at the rest of the gas station. It was deserted.

By mere curiosity, maybe to occupy himself while the tank was getting filled, Ignis turned the radio on. The broadcaster only said a couple words, before music came on.

“Oooh…” Gladio let out long along a hiss. “That’s my jam.”

Ignis grinned and laughed lowly; he knew as soon as the first beat had sounded how Gladio would react. The man had at least 30 different “my jam”s, and “Maneater” was definitely one of them. Gladio could be in a heated argument, but as soon as the first beat came on, he could stop to dance.

What Ignis did not expect was for Gladio to suddenly start dancing right there, in the gas station.

The adviser laughed and shook slightly the head, amused at Gladio’s silly movements next to the gas dispenser. To make his man happier, Ignis raised the volume. Gladio again let a hissed ‘Ooow’, and his silly dancing movements only increased.

Ignis thought his boyfriend would dance in his place.

But before he could notice, Gladio had moved, by dancing, with silly steps of tiptoe, sole, tiptoe, sole, and the arms moving as if exaggerating a walking move, to the literal middle of the station like it was a stage.

Ignis looked at him with wide eyes and an equally big smile, both amused and in surprise.

“Gladio, what are you d-” Ignis paused to laugh when Gladio turned to look at him, hips moving to a side, back to their place, and back to the side, while the man’s shoulders moved according to the beat. “Gladio, that’s embarrassing!”

“Ain’t no one here, sweetass” Gladio said while his body continued moving. Gladio turned over himself with more dancing according to the beat, saying as he did, “louder, DJ!”

Ignis only laughed, put a hand to his forehead as if to hide himself from the invisible audience, but turned the volume up yet again. He heard Gladio howl lowly with pleasure, focused in just dancing. He had grace, even for subtle pop dancing as that.

Ignis looked at him with an amused grin again. Gladio danced alone, but he timed and, right as the sax gave its first long note, Gladio pointed at him. With each of the following notes, timing on each of them, Gladio gestured for Ignis to approach and join him. At first Ignis just laughed at the ridiculously accurate timing. Gladio, playfully, gestured towards him again with the next of the sax notes.

Ignis really did not hesitate much.

Right as the singing voice came in with an emphasis beat, Ignis was closing the door and jumping into the scene right in front of Gladio in one movement. With the new, more lively beat, and now together, both started dancing with more emphasis; right shoulder out, then the left one, over and over, while their feet moved side to side, both doing a little circle together, dancing to each other, and hands moving from place to place. An arm went up here, another went to a side. Heads turned at times too, the entire body following the soft rock playing on the radio.

When the next verse hit, Gladio did backplay to it, movements growing a little more ridiculous. Ignis laughed lowly in response, but continued dancing with him, matching up with the energy. At some point, Gladio got closer, at which Ignis replied by moving backwards away of him, before Ignis did as Gladio and Gladio did as him previously. Both laughed, and then Gladio raised a knee and kicked to the sides, arms up. Motivated out of his shyness, and following the example, Ignis threw a leg to the side twice, as if it was a contest on who could look sillier.

Gladio jumped closer to him when the chorus hit, and put the hands to Ignis’ waist. Ignis didn’t hold him back, only continued dancing, none their feet stopping, following each beat of the background, while the rest of the body did as the melody. Gladio took one of his hands, at which Ignis replied by moving back fast, being stopped only by the grip of their hands, and returned by twirling. Gladio let go and both continued dancing in front of each other.

“Oh, oh, here she comes” both sang while making slightly silly faces, and let the music go as they laughed again.

“She’s a maneater!” Gladio sung alone, closing the eyes, and looking way too into it. Ignis only laughed, and thanked the astrals at least it had not been a disco hit what had come on in the radio, or they would really be offering a show to the security cameras.

Then, needing just once glance to suggest it and one to understand, they switched to dancing in an almost perfect imitation of some iconic dance scene from a movie, and their dance turned absolutely ridiculous by that point, Ignis swinging the hips too much, Gladio’s arms coming and going. The exaggerated movements with stiff grace (but still grace) had them growing more and more silly and energetic with each beat, yet, both tried to do their best impression of serious faces and direct eye contact. While their exaggerated dance movements continued, flashes of contained smiles came here and there, both with obvious struggles to not laugh. At some point, Ignis lost when they started moving the arms as if swimming, and stopped dancing for a moment to step away and laugh loudly, if shortly. Gladio laughed too, but continued dancing and brought Ignis back to join him again, the latter trying to keep composure.

The two returned to stand together, continued dancing for a while, as if in some competition of who could look the dumbest. The sax solo came in, and arms continued to come and go, feet skipping and stepping, hips twirling. They held hands and continued like that, dancing according to what they could do without letting go of each other. Needing no words and only glances and little gestures, Gladio took both of Ignis’ wrists, and the adviser let himself fall and slip on the floor between the Shield’s legs, only to be brought back up; Gladio let go of one of his hands, Ignis twirled over himself once, then twirled back, moved back once again stopped only by Gladio’s grip on his hand, and when Gladio pulled him back, Ignis, out of wanting to add more to their dumb dancing, suddenly raised a leg and rested the ankle on Gladio’s shoulder, while still dancing on his other tiptoe.

Gladio did not only laugh, he also hooked Ignis’ leg on his arm to not let it go back down as they continued dancing in tiny circles. Ignis, unable to put the leg down, threw the head back and laughed with Gladio’s name among the happy noises, but continued dancing as he could on a tiptoe and the leg, sure that they were looking majestically ridiculous, the leg hanging from Gladio’s arm, almost unnatural looking. Gladio asked a playfully naïve ‘What? Gotcha, babe’, but his laugh betrayed him as he too continued dancing, making sure to not move too rough to not drop his boyfriend.

A while later, Gladio let go of his leg, only to suddenly clap once as the chorus hit again, and he went frenetic mode; legs kicking one after the other, arms hitting to the sides, and Gladio making of the dance an absolute mess, too exaggerated, and playful. Ignis, not wanting to stay behind, started doing dramatic, exaggerated movements as well. Suddenly, they transformed into two “tube men” that were uncontrollably and dramatically flailing around with all four limbs and the head, as if suddenly possessed by some wild demon that made them behave like laces tied to a fan.

Each danced more and more ridiculously with each step, far too energetic, too ridiculous, limbs flying and flailing at high speed, one going down to the knees while still dancing here, the other twirling over himself as if having gone mad, arms up as if making some ancient ritual there.

While making eye contact with his boyfriend and going closer to him, Gladio mouthed one of the “Oh, oh, here she comes” before he hovered over Ignis, catching him off-guard, and biting his head, throwing Ignis into a loud yelp followed by an equally loud ‘Gladio!’ as he laughed, trying to get the other off him. The teeth still buried on Ignis’ head, Gladio muttered and unintelligible and screamed ‘She’s a maneater!’, while Ignis still tried to push him off, laughing. By the time he got it, Ignis tried to calm down enough to continue dancing, as Gladio did.

However, when the one part of the song that always made Ignis snort with amusement (because it was a way too quick and rushed ‘that woman is wild, wo-ah’ that was too sudden and incomprehensible) it did not only sound from the radio; Gladio stopped in his dancing to throw the head back as if roaring at the heavens, which he did, except instead of just a roar he literally screamed out that rushed, unintelligible phrase, as unintelligibly and rushed and as loud and as ridiculously as he could do it.

Ignis lost it; he stopped dancing and burst into the loudest laugh he had let out in months. He had to step away as if leaving, but his steps were staggering from how loud he was laughing; he stopped only a few steps ahead just to continue laughing as loudly as he was doing, while Gladio still danced in the background, sometimes quick and ridiculous, or slow and ridiculous, making exaggerated expressions and arms coming and going. Ignis returned over his staggering steps, still laughing.

“Gladio” he called among laughter. “Stop that, we’ve got to-”

“Watch out- watch out- watch out” Gladio sang as loudly and ridiculously, and while it could not compare to the unintelligible rushed phrase, it still sent Ignis back to laughter.

The adviser staggered over his place again and put a hand on the car’s cap for support. He lost the breath for a moment and held his tummy when it started aching, and he continued laughing as the song faded. Soon enough, he heard Gladio laugh as well, not as hysterically as he was doing. While he calmed and cleaned his eyes from a few tears, Gladio let out a loud ‘Huff’, putting the hands to his waist and smiling both innocently and as if proud.

“Now that’s what I call a pit stop!” Gladio said and went over to the adviser, laughing shortly and lowly while patting his shoulder. “What? Why are you laughing so much, Iggy?”

Ignis didn’t reply; he laughed again for a few moments. Gladio laughed and hugged him playfully, giving some silly slow and long steps side to side, until Ignis calmed enough.

“Better now?”

“Yes, thank you” Ignis said with a last short laugh, forearms and hands trapped between their chests. He quickly stood up on tiptoes to press a chaste, quick kiss to Gladio’s mouth, which was responded as sweetly. “Let’s go, we’ve got full tank now.”

“We sure do” Gladio said while letting go of him and heading for the nozzle to remove it. “We’ve got style, Iggy.”

“Sure we do” Ignis replied playfully as he opened the door and sat back down in his place.

By the time he was putting the seat belt on, Gladio was opening the other door and sitting at his side. The Shield sighed as he closed the door and put his own belt on, and stared at nowhere ahead while Ignis stared at him for long seconds, smiling, before Gladio stared back.

“What?”

“Nothing” Ignis said with the smile still present. “We’re going to go viral on Eosbook or Kupogram, you know that? Mad, drunk couple do the most ridiculous dance ever at a gas station at two a.m.”

Ignis stared at him with a smile and slightly raised eyebrows while Gladio just stared again through the window, slowly nodding, as if processing the info. He turned to Ignis, took a breath in before talking.

“I like fame” he jokingly murmured, and it only made Ignis laugh again as he turned the engine on.

Before driving off, Ignis took one of Gladio’s hands and brought it up to give a kiss to the knuckles.

“Gods, I love you, Gladiolus Amicitia” the adviser said, if with that playful smile still present, very tenderly. Gladio smiled and blinked, but wasn’t given the chance to reply. “Maneater.”

“Be grateful it wasn’t Gloria Gaynor” Gladio joked, and Ignis laughed yet again, but at least controlled and calm enough so that he could push the pedal and drive off into the road again, headed for the Amicitia manor, slightly later than expected, but much happier than anticipated. And also a little more sweaty.

That had to be, so far, one of Ignis’ favorite dates with Gladio; a great, delicious dinner, hours of dancing, sharing drinks, kissing, laughing, jumping, and a stroll through the park to unwind. Yes, sure, that had been great.

But Ignis’ favorite part of the night was, probably, the unexpected and silly dancing in a deserted gas station late at night coming back from their planed date. It had been unplanned, and silly, but Ignis adored that Gladio did not need a special place or a proper date to have fun with him. He did not need to buy any gifts, or to take him somewhere expensive, or to make plans with anticipation, he did not even need to say anything.

With a deserted gas station at two in the morning and a radio, Gladio still had the ability to make him the happiest man on Eos.

He was a keeper, definitely.

That moment, and the one when a patrol that came from the parking lot of the gas station stopped them only a minute later, and, trying to not laugh, the officer told them it was only protocol, he understood if they were as weird in the everyday and this was normal for them, but he really had to ask if they were high or drunk before letting them go.

I know you said “small short fic” BUT MY HAND SLIPPED, i’M SORRY ;A;

Liked the fic? Tip Racc with a coffee, please? ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ 

Thank you for reading! ( ´ ▽ ` )

[adhd-n-ib]

ib & grades anon follow up

so sorry this got super long! i know reading with ADHD can be hell so if it’s too much that’s understandable <3 please just let me know and i can rephrase or something.

so i’ve been struggling with various mental illnesses from a young age - i’ve gone on to do research about them in the past years and gradually learned what i was actually suffering from - i’ve never talked much about them though because of my social anxiety and stigmas i’m afraid of… people don’t always seem very accepting and sometimes show a little stigma about things which doesn’t make you so keen to share with them

i was pulled in by the ib coordinator for my school to talk about grades which were decent first semester but started going downhill second semester. during that meeting i explained why it had become more difficult for me to keep my grades up; she told me that i was gifted ( actually i guess i am, i was a member of a talent search in elementary for gifted youth but still ) and that it was because i didn’t know how to study because i never had to, but i went on to emphasize how it had been problems with attention and such lately. eventually they recommended i get ADHD testing as have multiple other people recently.

no follow up meetings have been made other than one short one for everyone after scheduling for next year where she and a guidance counselor said it may not be a good idea for me to do all of IB due to anxiety; i guess i kind of collapsed under all the pressure but i’d really like to follow through with ib because the program seems to actually be enjoyable and challenging and would help me get into a good college which is a big goal of mine.

a few months later my mom brought me to the doctor because she realized it seemed like i had adhd; there i was diagnosed with depression and anxiety by my family doctor ( SAD, GAD, possibly a few others oh boy ) that would warrant medication which my parents did not want me to use, things ive known about and researched for years but been afraid / uncomfortable bringing up due to misunderstanding. the doctor said she didn’t think it was adhd and we could talk again later but nothing’s really happened and local psychologists are booked. looking back i guess adhd might have been to blame for some of my problems and it’s actually kind of releiving, though of course i still have to wait and see for the official diagnosis if it comes, but the school year is ending soon and if i bomb summer school i’ll lose any chances i have at fixing grades this year if i haven’t already. i’m afraid things won’t get sorted out that soon with meds and dosages etc.

i dont know how much my parents, the coordinator and my teachers have been communicating this school year and even then if they’ll be understanding and accommodating for me. 

i’ve been hoping for straight As with a little buffer for possible EOC loss but it looks like i won’t be able to meet any of my grade goals at this rate. i’d be willing to do summer school and use up my study hall and lunch periods or anything to replace those grades if i could, though i’m not sure if i could handle it. im afraid the illnesses that have been holding me back for years won’t relent much and i’ll be stuck in a rut for the rest of my life. i don’t want to see my dreams of a high quality college and a good transcript disappear if i can help it.

thank you so much for this blog and being willing to take time to help! it’s hard to find those who understand AND are willing to listen and help <3

-------------------- 

hiya! thank u for sharing your story, you sound really motivated and thats fantastic! 

That being said, I think you need to realize that as a whole, going to a good college doesn’t solely rely on your transcript, and while it is absolutely an important part of what you want to achieve, sometimes its okay to step back and not put as much pressure on yourself! Having Straight A’s is fantastic, but its not mandatory for getting into a good college, especially when the classes you are taking are much more difficult than most. 

The thing is though, is that you sound like you genuinely enjoy the courses, which is the most important thing, so rather than not doing it maybe think about taking an alternative approach to these classes. If you can, talk to your parents and figure out exactly how much they've been talking to your teachers/coordinator, and then you may want to inquire about having a meeting with all three to really get it figured out. What you’re doing now doesn’t seem to be working in your favor, and while re-trying it in summer school may help a bit, not making a single change to whats happening isn’t going to help out as much as you might hope, so really sitting down and working out a plan is probably your best bet!

So yea, i think that will probably help!!!! Also its no problem!! thats what we made the blog for :D 

[ecotone99]

[MF] A teaser of what it may eventually end up being a novel

Well, first Hi! this is my first post here (so, sorry if im not used to the full lenght of rules and stuff).

English is also not my first language, So I spent the last 3 hours trying to translate this little thing in something readable, sometimes with the help of a translator, so, sorry if there an inconsistency here and there, limited vocabulary or something just... off (yo can obviously criticize it too so I can do it better next time, but my focus is the story per se)

Anyway, the story is based on a dream I had a weeks ago, involving a grim future for my old TRPG character. I hope you find something of it enjoyable!

optional Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vhfXiym9iiIwvtJgPKXvHjPkIeUnBBhd6_-g_2R0JPg/edit?usp=sharing

- … This old factory should do - huffed Marcus with a trembling voice - That shelving over there seems to be out of sight enough. You guys should hop in and get some sleep

We all nodded, trying our best to rest.

To my right, John tried to cheer Sean, locked in his eternally taciturn semblance. I ignored if Sean thought that rediscovering each other in a place and time like this was inappropriate, or if his seriousness simply hid a mousy child in the body of an adult. Or maybe I was just projecting my own thoughts and concerns on them. Who knows?

As an answer, Sean simply muttered something unintelligible and turned his body out of my sight.

John made a grimace and looked at me

- You. Specially you, should get some rest too, Anon - For ...Months? Years? All my life? I've spent a so long without talking, that the name stuck with me, after that time on which they tried to guess my birth-given one for the first time in a jolly gust of timid laughter. They gave up, calling me “anonymous”, and “Anon” stayed, almost like an insignia of our path interlacing. - Don’t listen to that jackass, just close your eyes. We will be fine.

My whole silent answer was staring at him bluntly, ignoring his concern for me, and continued sitting on my own legs, using the stinging pain as a catalyst for my concentration. It wasn’t working.

- Use this - Said a voice climbing the shelving, handing me the bucket in her little hands and urging me to use my “second vision” on the water and oil paints she found and poured in. It was Mariah. A little girl we found on the road and that, despite having taken me as an “old sis” and mimic me, she was obviously too young to rely on. I didn't trust her.

I simply leaned over my side, releasing some of the pressure on my legs and her constant wounds, and observed the countless patterns of colors, overlapping one on top of the other, and taking me, partially, to that distant and treacherous place that was the “future”.

It was strange, without a doubt. The visions. Despite their symbolism, they felt so… real. And yet, I was well are of my own eyeballs crossing over and over, as if each one decided on following a pattern on its own. I was vaguely aware of the heavy breathing coming from Sam, to my right, and his need for an inhaler we couldn't provide. And of course, I was aware of the frank concern coming from Mariah in front of me. What was about that kid that made me feel so uneasy? I couldn't tell

Soon I wasn't there at all. I was still at the factory, but the darkness of sunset wrapped the place on a mantle of shadows. A double edged blade.

I observed through the windows, but instead of ruins, that place was exuberant with life; Bags and boxes all over the relatively unpolluted place, surround machinery that rather than dead seemed to just be catching breath for work on the next day. Among the rust - on where the rust was supposed to be, a moment ago - a head rushed in my field of vision, whispering something I couldn't quite grasp, almost as if I was trying to hear that voice underwater, but interpreted as danger and urge. So I woke up the unfortunate lovebirds on my right. Only that “second” Mariah, looking me worried through that veil that muffled her words, gave away the unhappy secret that was realizing that world wasn’t real. Through the veil, not only voices but faces blurred too, and bodies had a strange nuance of hue on them, as if time wasn’t sure on which speed to move. But I could have accepted all that as real If I really tried with all I had. I wonder why I had never done that; Surrendering myself entirely to that place and live the infinite possibilities of an uncertain future, until my body consumed itself in the present. I thought about it, while a little unruly voice in the back of my head tried to remind me of the past.

Ignoring that third-layer of thoughts, I doubled my efforts and the vision became more clear.

In silent despair, we observed how countless soldiers surrounded us from every angle, only betrayed by the friction of their clothing, and that strange light slicing darkness in half and giving away the rest of their team, one after the other, while our panic grew like a boiling red-hot ball of steel in our throats.

We ran as fast as we could without revealing ourselves, but we knew that sooner or later the creak of the metal, or the rustle of the boxes that so generously hid us would give us away. Sooner or later our sounds would reach the ears of our foes, so, While pointing at the exit, Marcus sprinted in the other direction, trying to get their attention and give us an opening.

Skidding, yet avoiding all the shots so far, he retraced his steps, tossing shelvings and its content away indiscriminately to hinder the soldiers, but they were flooding the place in droves, threatening with ambush him sooner rather than later. I bit my lip and pledged to avoid that sacrifice.

While impeding guilt started to creep in, one of the soldiers managed to find us through his scope. About to suffer the same fate as our most recent saviour, John interceded just in time, hushing our sentence with a kick and a crack.

We crossed the door and ran. We crossed walls, just to find more and higher walls. More vast areas, more exuberant trees and buildings, and with each step more and more people. We were getting close to that city downton, and a nightly festival seemed to welcome us.

Panting, we tried to blend in the crown, but we were sticking out too much. The looks of the locals perched in us more times that I would have tolerated normally if I were alone. But two hands firmly squeezed my wrist as a warning, and we continued our walk of shame, dirty, ragged and exhausted, through the crowd. We passed by multitude of people and food stands, and I think even our destiny, because Mariah suddenly gasped something in her native language that I couldn't understand.

It sounded like a warcry full of pain.

And the soldiers surrounded us.

In reality, I was vaguely noticing the tears of rage falling down my cheek, while Mariah, the authentic, landed her strangely cold hand on my arm, taking me out of my stupor with the shock. I tried to control my anger, rooting down in so many levels that I couldn't even justify them anymore, in vain.

Like scoffing us, Marcus climbed up to us, letting those eyes full of scars for everyone to see.

- We are surrounded.

Despite the sunlight still high in the sky, I knew what that meant to us, and it wasn’t good. Panicking, I ignored Marcus words and refuses his future sacrifice jumping down to the floor. Mariah tried to follow me, but she tripped with a cable. I stood there in shock for a second, but then acridly accepted that some things cannot be changed and kept running.

Trying to stay out of the sight of the soldiers through the windows and the countless doors that had collapsed in that place over the years, I saw, briefly, how Marcus urged Mariah to climb again, but there was no more time. John and Sean took each others hands and jumped out of my field of vision. I couldn’t see any of them anymore, nor I could go back. All I heard were shots and shouting, witnesing how both started to fade and become more and more infrequent. My panic grew higher, but I was able to control my breathing, and without looking back managed to outflank most of the guards, thanks to my size. It did not looked like they had my description, so it would be a while before they realized one of us was missing.

That was my chance. I crossed the lintel of the window, taking one piece of the broken glass while ignoring the pain, and moved on. Most of the soldiers were already inside the factory, or taking care of what I knew deep inside now were probably no more than the inert carcasses that were once my friends.

But a soldier remained, almost in front of me. I never knew if it was there to check every possible exit fulfilling his duty, or was left behind to lace his boots but it didn’t matter anymore. When he saw me, like a shadow, I jumped on to him slicing his throat, while the shard of glass carved deeper into the flesh of my palm, in protest. I considered taking their car, but that would have been very stupid and the death of that soldier meaningless, and less than silent.

While considering my options, and imperative and deep shout rumbled inside the factory sending a chill down my spine. They probably saw me or the dead soldier. So I started running.

I ran and ran, and ran desperate between the hills of that narrow street, cursing my short legs, swearing over my wounds, old and new, and blaspheming all kind of profanities over my luck and cowardly. But when I finally looked back, despite being able to hear them in the distance, I saw no soldier behind. It was my chance!

“You are alone… again.”

I ignored the gloomy thoughts and kept running, this time at a more inconspicuous way that allowed me to conceal my wounds and catch my breath again. I looked over each and every house, trying to find a suitable one to hide, but mostly I only found walls, tall metal fences, dead ends and dogs on the other side. Neither would make for a clean getaway. Not in time. Definitely not without leaving a huge blood trail. I squeezed my hand even harder against my chest and let out a frustrated sob, just when I saw a home with the gates wide open, almost as an invitation.

I knew it was risky, and perhaps even obvious, but I crossed over to that garden without further hesitation, and encompassing the house I started to think once more on my options. It was then when I heard little screams. Startled at first, but nostalgic not long after, realizing they came from several childrens playing and running around. It must have been a birthday party.

They hadn’t see me yet. Should I just simply open the door and beg for asylum? Maybe hide in their furniture? None of those options had a happy ending in my head. While I saw a little girl that could not be more than four, hugging someone that could not be other than her mother, I used the last of my strength, and with eyes blurred by effort and tears, I climbed to the roof.

But apparently life is never that kind, and luck stroke me greatly, when I saw the little girl say something and point at me directly through the window. However I was too weak to deal with it, and never knew if someone else than the little girl managed to see me.

Not like it mattered anymore, sooner or later the soldiers would get with my trail and cross their path with that family. And what would happen then when a little kid described the person that killed one of their own? I did not wanted to give them more means to find me, nor I wanted to check what those bastards decided to do with the witnesses.

I jumped from roof to roof, almost as if my time suspended in the air was trying to match the weight on my heart and the little content of my stomach. The back of my head was barely aware of the fact that those modern roofs were starting to get partly replaced with wood and clay tiles, filling the outline of my sight with nostalgia.

“Just a little more…”

About to fall more than once, my grip on those surfaces started to get ferocious, while I lost the one I had on reality. One last jump, and without realizing when, suddenly there was only void under my feet, as I landed on the hill of the home that saw me grow.

Bewildered, I walked down that rocky grassland, but the steps became a trot, and those irregular strides were soon replaced by jubilous little howls, in a body a bit older and more impatient than the one left behind to run down the hill. And as I ran, I hopped over the rocks, even skipping some, and trying to jump as high as I could to look over the chasm of my little mountain. For the first time in a long time I was laughing out loud again, immersed in my little memory.

Before long, I approached the big tree. And old oak under which two families were celebrating something I couldn't recall. Eating together, while the breeze caressed each of the present faces, promising Spring.

By the time someone noticed me, I was already in between the group of elders. A kid, somewhat younger than me at the time came to meet me. But my ardour laid elsewhere, and I took the advantage of a big boulder, to jump over him and grab one of the lower branches of the tree. In the end, it took me a few attempts, but I made it.

Of course, what I wanted wasn’t to climb the tree per se, I knew that eventually the branches would end up being too thin to hold my weight, and the foliage would have hindered the view either way, no; What I wanted was but that little treasure that caught the corner of my eye and I refused to let go. Just a couple more jumps, and before I realized, the little slugbunny was in my hands. White as snow to camouflage in the winter, despite its fast fur adaptation to the environment, it wasn't quick enough to avoid the surprise of an early spring, as the tree leaves became a delatory red.

Without much effort, I tried to twist his neck, but my hands were too small, and the animal were struggling too hard. However, just before I lost my prey, the kid came to me and offered his help. He finished his suffering off while I held the body, now motionless, that I showed off like a trophy to the elders, that ended up sighing and scolding me, but also laughing and cherishing my skills.

The afternoon went by faster than I thought, and the apprehension of forgetting something important was long one. Under the ebbing sun, the boy took some courage and with it my hand, taking me where his words couldn't be heard by the rest of his family.. He promised me… what was he saying?

I couldn't make out the words, and the wind now howling along the birds, carrying dust and leaves with it, forced me to squint my eyes. Ours met, and I knew who that kid was, and everything else came back to my head in a rush, like a bucket of cold water.

When I woke up, I was lying on a prairie, much different from the one that lit up the memories of my childhood. Dirty, mauled but surprisingly relatively intact. At least no broken bones that I could tell. I observed how the sunset contrasted with the summit I jumped from while running away, several meters above me, and that building that last saw me loose consciousness, now without a trace of those old clay tiles on wooden roofs. Much less the people that already had their last breath long ago. Now that I was awake, I wondered if those crimson bricks were the only witnesses of my fall…

Not without effort, I got up in my feet, and continued my way.

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