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ravenloftian · 7 months ago

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Wolves, Wolves, and More Wolves

Game Sessions 2/2/2024, 4/12/2024, 4/19/2024, 4/26/2024

The Menagerie, Warhorses, and Supplies

After the winter festivities in Lunamire, the Paladins of the Morninglord and devoted Cleric, Brother Andrei, receive a summons from Brother Aurelius, a venerable figure within their temple's hierarchy. As they gather within the hallowed halls of their sanctuary, a mysterious messenger arrives, bearing news wrapped in secrecy.

A sealed scrollcase, bearing the weight of destiny, awaits their eager hands. With bated breath, they crack open the ancient seal, revealing orders shrouded in enigma. The letter speaks of a rendezvous in Vallaki, at the Moonlit Grotto, beneath the veil of night, where the first light of the morning star will guide their path. A black feather marks the way, a symbol of clandestine guidance in the darkness that lies ahead. "Bring all that you have learned," the missive urges, "for discretion is our ally. Speak not."

Shortly thereafter, the heroes embark on their journey from Lunamire, across mist-riddled Lake Zarovich to the Menagerie, where noble steeds groomed and trained by Lord Aldric await them as tokens of the temple's favor. Each choose their loyal companions, forging bonds of trust and camaraderie as they prepare for the trials that lie ahead.

Snows on the Old Svalich Road

On their first day of travel along the Old Svalich road, the party is ensnared in a brutal blizzard. Icy winds lash at them, and a thick fog obscures their vision. Percival's keen eyes catch fleeting shadows among the swaying pines.

Soon, the truth reveals itself–they are being hunted. A pack of wolves emerges from the swirling snows, stalking them with predatory intent. The wolves take turns harrying their horses, driving them into a frenzy. Despite their best efforts, Percival and Brother Andrei lose control of their mounts, leaving Valdiriu and his loyal steed, Stormbreaker, vulnerable to the onslaught.

With each attack, the wolves inflict grievous wounds upon the horses, their hunger driving them to relentless aggression. Among the predators, a massive black wolf, the pack's leader, lurks in the growing shadows, orchestrating the assault with cunning precision.

Just as all seems lost, a guttural and monstrous howl reverberates through the forest, sending the wolves into a panicked retreat. The horrified travelers do not linger. They heal their horses and press on through the unforgiving wilderness to the nearest town.

Arrival in Moondale

They arrive in Moondale as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. As they enter, the snowstorm worsens. A sudden chill grips them, sending shivers down their spines like cold steel.

The streets are eerily empty, devoid of any signs of life. Not a single footprint mars the pristine blanket of snow, nor do carriage tracks mar its surface. The town lies silent and still beneath the thickening veil of snowfall.

Despite the deserted appearance, flickers of light peek through the slats of shuttered windows, casting eerie shadows upon the snow-covered ground. Ahead, a weathered sign creaks and groans in the wind, bearing faded lettering that reads "Moondale Inn." It beckons them forward, promising warmth and shelter amidst the cold and desolation of the silent town.

The party secures their animals in an old drafty barn, then head to the inn to secure rooms for the night. As they ascend the stairs leading to the front door, t wooden steps tremble beneath their feet. The hinges whisper softly as the door swings open, revealing a warm glow that spills into the night.

Stepping inside, they find themselves enveloped in the cozy embrace of the inn's interior. A crackling fire dances lazily in a large hearth on the right side of the room, casting flickering shadows upon the tan walls. To the left, a worn staircase leads to the second floor.

Seated in an oversized rocking chair by the hearth the inn's slovenly proprietor puffs on a stale-smelling pipe. As they approach, the man lazily rises from his chair, offering a gruff greeting. "Caught in the white maw of winter, were we? Come on in and thaw out your eyelashes. I'm Dante Lysin, and this is the Moondale Inn. You're welcome to stay, if you've got coin, that is."

After a lackluster meal of gruel made with goat's milk and raisins, they head upstairs to their rooms. Inside, they find single beds with faded linens and worn pillows, each accompanied by a dresser topped with a porcelain wash basin. Cobwebbed candle sconces adorn the walls, their withered, wine-colored candles casting feeble light upon the dusty surroundings.

An eerie silence fills the air, punctuated only by the faint crackling of the dying fire downstairs. The rooms bear the unmistakable signs of neglect, with an even layer of dust coating every surface. It's clear that the inn sees few guests, if any at all.

Despite the lack of cleanliness, the beds offer a semblance of comfort. The sheets and blankets are woolen and the pillows adequate.

Screams in the Night

In the early hours of the night, piercing screams shatter the silence, jolting the characters awake. The characters rush outside to investigate and find peculiar tracks. With each step, the prints transform, the heels shrinking, the balls elongating, and sharp claws emerging until they resemble those of a wolf.

Entering the house across from the inn, the party is met with a scene beyond comprehension. In the shadowy depths of the room, a woman writhes in torment, her cries of despair rending the air. Despite their attempts to soothe her, she remains inconsolable, her words unintelligible in her hysteria.

The characters draw their weapons and search the house for intruders, but their efforts yield only a grisly discovery.

The characters' eyes fall upon the gruesome sight of a brutally mutilated corpse sprawled upon the pantry floor. Guts spill out, and a gaping absence where the man's forearm should be tells a tale of a bestial attack. The woman's anguished sobs intensify at the ghastly sight. A wild beast seems to have ravaged the unfortunate victim. Shreds of torn clothing litter the floor, marking the path of terror from the front door to where the corpse now lies.

As the woman's tears momentarily subside, she manages to choke out a harrowing account. "My husband and I… we were locking the house for the night," she begins, her voice trembling with fear. "I went to the front door… the porch lamp was lit. I went to put it out… opened the door. There was a man… a dark robe over him. Couldn't see his face… just eyes staring at me. He was… he was hideous."

The chilling tale sends shivers down the characters' spines, and the air thickens with an ominous sense of dread.

Captain Alec Rapacion and His Men

They bundle the woman up and take her across the street to the inn, where they see three men banging on the door. "Dante, for all that is holy, let us in before we freeze to death!"

When confronted, the man introduces himself as Captain Alec Rapacion–leader of the local militia sent to investigate several recent disappearances in the village. He is joined by soldiers Eldon and Ravewood.

Once inside, the captain tells them their harrowing tale. They set out four days ago to look for the children in the woods and became irrevocably lost in the mists. To make matters worse, the snows created two foot snowdrifts in the passes and wolves stalked them as soon as they stepped foot outside the village.

The captain’s face wears a mask of grim determination as he studies the party. Resignation finally softens his iron features, “We must remain here until the passes clear. In the meantime, we have a murder to solve-perhaps more before we are through. The task thus falls to us: it is our sworn duty. We must find and slay the beast before it commits further butchery.”

The Second Murder

That night, they take turns on watch. Unfortunately, Brother Andrei falls asleep and they are once more awakened by a terrible scream. The woman they've sworn to protect has run out of the inn screaming and has been butchered steps from the front door in a similar fashion to her husband.

At dawn, the party and the Captain and his men patrol the village and beging to investigate. Whenever the characters try to ask villagers for information regarding the deaths, they turn away in fear, but they do manage to learn that no wolf attacks had occured before the militia unit arrived. But the more characters urge townfolk to help them, the more widespread and intense the people’s suspicions of the militia become.

The Third Murder

That morning, they find a woman calling out for her daughter. The young lass, they learn went out to fetch firewood from the old barn at the edge of the village and has not returned. As the party heads in that direction, a spot of color in the snow catches their eye. There seems to be something bluish in an oddly shaped snowdrift to the right of the road. As they approach, they see that the mound is not a drift at all, but a loose pile of snow that looks like it was kicked into place. With horror, the party realizes the patch of blue is a human hand! Frozen droplets of blood cling to the rigid fingers.

Percival brushes away the snow, revealing the ragged corpse of a young and beautiful maiden. Her lifeless face is frozen in a grimace of fear, her beauty marred by the horror of her final moments. Despite the biting cold, she remains unnaturally preserved, with no signs of frostbite or rigor mortis setting in.

Tracks of a single wolf lead away from the scene, enticing the characters to follow. As they trace the trail, it gradually transforms into human bare feet, leading to a secluded spot between a deep woodland and the windowless side of a remote barn. There, they discover a trampled area littered with discarded clothing, as well as two sets of booted footprints—one sprinting towards the secluded area, and the other striding away with confidence.

Regardless of which tracks they follow, the trail eventually leads them back to town, where it becomes lost amidst the footprints of other villagers. The cold intensifies as they trudge through the streets, straining their eyes in search of any clue. Suddenly, a dark form looms before them—it's Captain Rapacion, his expression grim and ashen with the cold.

Desperation evident in his voice, the captain implores the characters for any lead that might bring the fiend to justice. Listening carefully to their findings, he shakes his head in frustration. "We've removed the other bodies to the barn near the inn. Bring this one too," he instructs sternly. "The village elders have requested that the bodies be preserved until a doctor can give them proper burial. Since we've thus far failed to apprehend the murderer, the least we can do is honor their wishes."

With a decisive nod, the captain turns and heads back towards the inn, his cloak drawn tightly against the biting cold. The characters follow suit, knowing that their task is far from over in this frigid and unforgiving village.

After moving the dead bodies to the barn, the party grooms their horses and give them feed. Percival notices a droplet of blood on Enchantress' neck, but finds no wounds. Scared that the horses might be in danger, they move them to the dead woman's house closer to the inn.

The Vampire Story

At lunch they sup on hearty peasant fare cooked by Dante's wife–a warm beef stew with bread and ale. The innkeeper settles down with the group and, recognizing a captive audience, begins to spin a yarn about the village. “Feel like a spooky tale on such a bleak day? Have you heard the tale of my arrival in Moondale? It was thriving then, but in a few years, everything changed. A foul batch of needle-toothed, feral-faced vampires crawled out of their dark holes and came here. They sucked the life out of this place. Parasites. We hanged them and burned them-poisoned, disemboweled, decapitated, gored them-but they kept coming back. Within months, the town had shrunk by half. Then a stranger came to town. He taught us how to slay the salty-breathed fiends, and how to keep them dead. We felled an acre of timber making holy symbols and stakes, and eventually killed several of them. But the rest moved on before we could finish the job. Even though the danger was behind us, another batch of the townfolk left, fearing the life-suckers would return to wreak vengeance. That was five years ago, and we’ve not seen so much as a bat’s ear since. But now this nonsense crops up. I say we should–"

The Beast Shows Itself, Another Two Villagers Slain

Before Dante finishes the sentence, terrified cries erupt on the street outside. Dante leaps to his feet, wrenches a coat from the rack on the wall, and follows the characers out the door to see what has happened. About 60 yards down the street in broad daylight, the party glimpses the beast-a wolf, easily the size of a worg. It's hackled back glistens with frozen spikes of blood as it arches fiendishly over its latest prey. Two bodies lie quivering in the red-speckled snow beneath the beast. The wolf's meaty jaws scissor mercilessly and its knifelike teeth slash into the bodies. Over the wail of the wind the party hears its slaverous gulping. Then the beast raises its dripping muzzle, pinning you with its eyes. It sniffs the wind, turns, and dashes away.

Eldon and Ravewood Are Ravaged

The party pursues the fiend thorugh the snowstorm, out into the fields and through hedgerows. The wild goose chase takes them in a wide arc eventually leading them back to town where they find the mutilated corpses of Eldon and Ravewood.

The farmer who has brought them in found them in his fields when he went to fetch his cows.

The party is suspicious of the Captain, who is curiously absent during all this, but they do not as of yet have enough evidence to confront him. Valdiriu and Andrei preach patience while Percival is seeing red.

The Innocent Captain

As the party is taking the bodies of the dead to the barn, they hear yet another scream. They rush through a gray-black maze of barricaded buildings, searching for the werewolf‘s latest victim. After rounding a snow-clogged corner, they stop dead in their tracks. Thirty feet down the alley, the wounded body of a man is couched in a crimson snowdrift. As they approach, they notice that his hands are working futilely to stem the flow of blood from deep gashes in his arms and calves. It is Captain Rapacion. The man gazes weakly up at the paladins, biting back the pain, and stammers, “I had him . . . had him right in my grasp! Got a blow in with my blade . . .across his brisket. . . but he got away. By the gods, this hurts!” The red glow of pain in his eyes seems to dull, and a cloud passes over his gaze. He slumps, unconscious. But ghosts of warm breath still swirl from his nostrils.

The paladins lay hands on him, then take his unconscious body back to the inn.

The Sleepover

Fearing that more will die, Valdiriu gathers all villagers who will listen and convinces them to sleep at the inn. Seventeen of them agree and take their families inside. Val pays Dante handsomely for the evening. The Captain sleeps soundly and well and that night no screams disturb the peace.

Body on the Roof

In the morning, they are met with an angry mob. The town elder has gathered everyone and they show up with crude weapons ready to fight. They have discovered another body, this time atop the roof of an abandoned public house. Because of the ice on the wooden walls, the characters cannot climb the building unless they have a grappling hook.

Percival is Ambushed & Nearly Killed

Percival volunteers to get one from his pack back at the inn. As he trudges through the trampled snow that fills the lanes, he hears footfalls behind him. He turns to see but there is no one. Only the ever-present wind speaks. The moment he turns back around, a black blur of teeth and claws drops upon him.

The beast moves with supernatural quickness, leaping and dodging, clawing and biting. Percival unsheathes Icerazor and proceeds to attack but not before he is severely wounded. A moment later, Dante joins the fray but his weapons prove ineffective against the beast.

Hearing Percival's cries for help, Val and Andrei hurry after him and join the fight. Val discovers that silver is ineffective against the fiend–rendering most of the folk tales he's heard useless. Magical weapons do indeed wound it, however.

The Beast Is Slain

Before their very eyes the wounded werewolf transforms into a giant wolf and leaps onto a nearby rooftop. Val stays in pursuit while Andrei ministers to Percival's wounds.

The beast tries to make a run for it, but Val manages to land a fatal blow. With practiced precision, he swiftly dispatches the beast, ensuring that its threat is extinguished once and for all. With the werewolf slain and its reign of terror brought to an end, Val severs the beast's head from its body to ensure it does not rise again.

As the adrenaline of battle begins to ebb away, Andrei tends to Percival's wounds, his ministrations a soothing balm amidst the chaos that surrounds them. Meanwhile, Dante extends a gracious invitation to seek refuge from the biting cold within the warmth of the inn.

Inside, Dante brews a calming tea for the weary travelers, though his words carry a chilling weight. "It's a pity that you were bitten, son," he laments to Percival, his voice heavy with sorrow. "There is no cure for such a curse. Now you are bound to walk the world a beast like him, though there is no telling when you will turn."

Percival's heart sinks at the grim pronouncement, the reality of his newfound affliction sinking in with each passing moment. Desperate for answers, the group turns to Dante for guidance, but his responses offer little solace. "Maybe in Vallaki there is someone who knows more than me," he suggests, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

With their hopes of finding a cure dashed against the cold reality of their situation, the party faces an uncertain future, their journey to Vallaki now fraught with newfound urgency and dread. As they prepare to set out once more, the specter of Percival's impending transformation looms over them, casting a shadow of uncertainty over their path forward.

The Captain's Story

After they've had a moment to soothe their ravaged nerves and tend to wounds, Dante gives them the key to the Captain's rooms.

Inside, the party is met with a scene of horror and decay. The room reeks of rot, and the disarray within is evident. To the right, the porcelain wash basin sits surrounded by clothes, splattered with ominous blood spots. A dozen dulled and nicked straight razors lie nearby, hinting at the gruesome acts that have taken place within these walls.

Damp piles of clothing cover the bed, emitting a foul odor that permeates the air. As the characters approach the dresser, they are greeted with an acrid stench. Upon opening the drawers, they find a half-consumed forearm, its flesh rotting away.

They find 80gp, 75sp and 100cp and a war-tattered journal in which they glimpse some of the Captain's past.

Alec Rapacion was born a werewolf. Alec, being a true lycanthrope, had full control over his curse. Two of his three brothers were lycanthropic as well. They, however, were killed in their teens when the people in Alec’s home village realized their condition. The city, outraged by the boys’ infirmity, slew both his father and mother to keep the condition from spreading. Alec witnessed the slayings from the safety of the surrounding woods.

Angered by the murders, Alec vowed revenge on all nonlycanthropic humans. Before entering Moondale, he had butchered thousands of people. Being a military captain during the Terg war, he had the opportunity to cause chaos, death, and ruin, to both the Tern and his own men. The journal contains mad ravings of seemingly non linear events, but it becomes clear that Alec's modus operandi is to enter a town, make a few kills, and blame the murders on an innocent resident. Typically, superstitious townfolk are so eager to be rid of the menace that they zealously hang whomever Alec points out.

As the group grapples with the revelations of Alec's atrocities, a pressing concern arises—Percival's potential lycanthropy. With their options laid bare before them, they find themselves at a crossroads. The snow-choked valley to Vallaki lies ahead, promising a perilous journey fraught with danger. Alternatively, they could turn back to the safety of the Menagerie and seek aid from the monastery of Lunamire, facing the daunting task of navigating the treacherous path they've already traveled.

Back to Lunamire

As night descends upon Moondale, Percival is engulfed in the grip of a horrific nightmare, the darkness of his subconscious tormenting him with images too terrifying to comprehend. With a jolt, he awakens, drenched in sweat and screaming, his heart pounding in his chest.

Andrei and Val, witnessing Percival's distress, exchange concerned glances, unanimous in their decision. They agree that it's best to return to Lunamire, seeking the guidance and solace of the temple priests to tend to Percival's troubled soul.

Two days later, the trio arrives in Lunamire, their journey fraught with tension and unease. Percival wastes no time, heading directly to the temple in search of answers and relief from the nightmares that plague him. Meanwhile, Val and Andrei part ways to reunite with their respective sweethearts, seeking comfort and reassurance in their embrace.

Back to Moondale

The party's brief encounter with Lord Stefan Mihaiu left them with more questions than answers, his enigmatic presence leaving a lingering sense of unease. As they set out from the Menagerie the following morning, their nerves are already on edge, heightened by the sight of the large black wolf stalking them from a distance.

Arriving at the Moondale Inn, they find Dante preoccupied with caring for his ailing parents, leaving them to settle in on their own. With keys in hand, they make themselves at home, though the unsettling presence of the lurking wolf weighs heavily on their minds.

As night falls, the tranquility of the village is shattered by the arrival of a massive pack of wolves. Forty pairs of glowing eyes pierce the darkness, their haunting howls echoing through the streets of Moondale. The party watches in trepidation as the predators pass through the town, their primal presence a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurk in the shadows.

XP for Session 4/12/2024 -200xp XP for Session 4/19/2024 - 1700xp each XP for Session 4/26/2024 - 600xp eac

#dnd 2nd ed #ravenloft #gothic horror #dnd #dnd campaign #wolves

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julierysava · 1 year ago

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It's SUNDAY reading

Book "Agent Aygute's Door"

Chapter IV: The Weightless Symphony

Agent Aygute and the sentinel had transcended the boundaries of the ethereal corridor. Their journey had led them to a realm where the rules of physics no longer held sway, and the very concept of gravity had become a distant memory.

As they ventured further into this enigmatic world, Aygute's senses underwent a profound transformation. He could feel the gentle caress of the cosmic winds against his skin, a sensation both electrifying and soothing. The notion of weight, of being bound to the ground, had dissolved into weightless realm.

He looked down, or what used to be down, and saw the world from a perspective he had never imagined. The ground, or rather the surface below, resembled a tapestry of colors and textures, a canvas painted by the hand of the cosmos itself. It was as though he was suspended in the heart of a masterpiece, a work of art stretched beyond the limits of comprehension.

With each passing moment, Aygute's perception of gravity continued to evolve. He felt as if he was floating, not in the sense of weightlessness to experience in water, but in a realm where even the concept of up and down had lost its meaning. He moved effortlessly, guided by his thoughts and intentions, like a leaf carried by a gentle breeze.

The stars above beckoned to him, their distant glimmers casting a mesmerizing glow across the boundless expanse. Aygute extended his hand, reaching out to touch the celestial bodies these have always been so far out of reach. To his embrace, his fingers brushed against the fabric of the cosmos, and he felt the hum of distant galaxies beneath his fingertips.

Beneath him, or above, the ocean's surface sparkled with a radiance defied earthly description. It was as though the very water had been infused with stardust, and the waves moved in a choreographed motions of light and shadow. Aygute watched in awe as the waves surged and receded, each movement a testament to the harmony of this weightless symphony.

The sensation of floating was not one of disorientation but of liberation. It was as though Aygute had shed the confines of his physical form and become a part of the cosmic ballet unfolding around him. He could hear the melodies of the universe, a celestial choir resonated with his very soul.

The sentinel, too, had embraced this weightless existence. Its mechanical form had transcended its artificial limitations, and it moved with a grace and fluidity defied explanation. It was as though the sentinel had become a sentient being, in tune with the rhythms of this mystical realm.

As Aygute and the sentinel floated together in this boundless expanse, they knew they were on the threshold of a revelation, a truth had eluded them in the confines of the space. The enigma had drawn them in unveiling its deepest secrets, and they were eager to uncover the mysteries awaited them in this weightless symphony.

With each passing moment, their connection to this realm grew stronger. They were no longer mere explorers but participants in a cosmic narrative, a story to transcend time and space. The boundaries of their understanding had expanded beyond imagination, and they were ready to embrace whatever wonders and challenges this weightless symphony had yet to offer.

As Agent Aygute and the sentinel floated through the weightless expanse, they couldn't help but be captivated by the sheer beauty and wonder that surrounded them. It was a realm where the boundaries of reality had dissolved, and they were free to explore the mysteries of the cosmos.

The stars above continued to beckon, their brilliance guiding their way. Aygute reached out, plucking a cluster of stardust from the celestial tapestry. It shimmered like a miniature galaxy in his hand, its light dancing in a mesmerizing display. This stardust held the secrets of the universe, and Aygute knew understanding it would unlock profound insights.

Below them, the ocean's surface continued its enchanting dance. The waves seemed to respond to their presence, rising and falling in a rhythm echoing the celestial melodies. Aygute extended his hand towards the ocean, and his fingertips grazed the water's surface. It was neither wet nor cold; it felt like a current of pure energy flowing through him.

In this weightless symphony, Aygute's senses were heightened. He could hear the faint hum of distant stars, the whisper of cosmic winds, and the heartbeat of the universe itself. It was as though he had become one with the cosmos, a part of a grand cosmic orchestra.

The sentinel, too, reveled in this weightless existence. Its mechanical form had transformed, and it moved with a grace to defy its artificial nature. It extended its sensors towards the stars, capturing data and information to unravel the enigma of this realm.

Together, Aygute and the sentinel explored the weightless expanse. They encountered celestial phenomena beyond imagination – nebulae painted the cosmic canvas with vibrant colors, pulsars emitted rhythmic bursts of energy, and galaxies spiraled with an elegance to transcend earthly artistry.

As they ventured deeper into the cosmos, they encountered pockets of knowledge, repositories of wisdom left behind by ancient travelers of this realm. These repositories were not physical structures but manifestations of pure consciousness, where thoughts and ideas were preserved for eternity.

Aygute and the sentinel delved into these repositories, their minds expanding with each encounter. They glimpsed the secrets of interstellar travel, harnessed the power of cosmic energy, and deciphered the language of the stars. The knowledge they acquired was not bound by time or space; it was a gift from the cosmos itself.

But amidst the wonders of the cosmos, Aygute couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, that there was a presence beyond the stars, observing their journey. It was a presence that emanated both curiosity and caution, as though it were testing their worthiness.

As they continued to float through the weightless symphony, Aygute and the sentinel knew their journey was far from over. They had transcended the confines of the corridor and entered a realm of boundless possibilities. The enigma had drawn them in was revealing its true nature, and they were determined to uncover its deepest mysteries.

With a sense of awe and purpose, they prepared to venture further into the cosmos, ready to embrace whatever revelations and challenges awaited them in this weightless symphony. For they had become explorers of the universe, seekers of cosmic truth, and custodians of the enigma's secrets.

To be continued…

#WeightlessSymphony #CosmicExploration #BoundlessPossibilities #CelestialWonders #StardustSecrets #InterstellarJourney #julie #julierysava #agentaygutesdoor #sundayreading #books

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teiasviago · 3 years ago

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Enigmatic

From the Free-For-All Prompt List: The prompter asked for Mulder and Scully moving into the Unremarkable House after being on the run; Scully starts working at Our Lady of Sorrows and is viewed as the mysterious new doctor (not without attracting a few admirers) and one day, Mulder shows up, rendering the pair as infamous water cooler gossip. @today-in-fic

The house, at the least, is well-insulated. It may creak and groan under the force of the relatively unchallenged wind that sweeps across the fields surrounding it, but it’s insulated. Her name is also on the deed: one Dana Katherine Scully owns this house and a few acres of land surrounding it. They don’t have much more than some lamps and a rather distasteful purple comforter in the way of personalization, but they prefer to look at it as a glass half full sort of situation.

“At least we have a comforter at all,” Mulder points out, hands on his hips as he surveys the bedroom.

“We can buy a new one,” Scully argues, eyebrow arched.

“Now, why would we do that? It’s not like I can go with you to pick everything out. I think we should keep it. It’s got personality. Look at the curlicues!”

“Mulder...”

He spreads the comforter across the bed and flops down on it, reaching out his hand. “C’mon, Scully. It’s charming. Live a little.”

He beckons her over and she goes with a sigh as if she truly disapproves, laying down next to Mulder on her side. “Alright, but only because I love you.”

“That’s funny, ‘cause I love you, too,” he replies, rolling over to face Scully with a grin.

“I guess we’re in agreement.”

“I love you and our creaky house in rural Virginia. Say hi to your mom for me tomorrow.”

She nuzzles him with a contented smile, entwining their fingers. “I will.”

—

“I start on Monday,” Scully announces with a grin, approaching Mulder from behind to embrace him among the sounds of a busy kitchen.

“I knew you’d get it, Scully. What’d I tell you? Your late residency didn’t stop you, did it?”

She scrunches her nose up and presses it into his back for a moment in short-lived humility. “You were right, Mulder. Don’t let that go to your head, though.”

“Too late, you already said it. To reach non-egotistical Mulder you’ll need to wait three business days.”

She can hear the smile in his voice as she giggles. “How was your day, Mr. Egotistical?” Scully hums in contentment and closes her eyes.

“It was good. I missed Mrs. Egotistical but that’s nothing new. You know what they say: if you love her, you gotta let her go.”

“...to work, Mulder.”

“Woe is me, etcetera, etcetera. I like to look at my woman, what can I say?”

Scully laughs softly as he starts to sway his hips, and she moves with him. “Said woman is rather hungry, Mulder. Is that chicken marsala?”

“It is, indeed.”

—

“I’ve become quite the popular figure at work,” she announces, twirling spaghetti around her fork.

“Of course you have. You’re the most brilliant doctor they’ve ever seen.” Mulder eats his own bowl of spaghetti unphased.

“Dr. Hubbard asked me out, Mulder. I guess he likes that I’m an enigma.” Scully shifts her gaze away from Mulder as he looks up at her, bewildered. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I obviously declined his offer. I like my rugged, stay-at-home partner far too much to accept.” She grasps his hand with a smile and brings his fingers to her lips.

Mulder hums. “I forgot what it’s like to feel jealousy. Dr. Hubbard is only thirteen years late to shoot his shot.”

“That he is. But I suspect there will be more offers over the years. I don’t relish learning which of my coworkers refuse to take no for an answer.”

Mulder snorts and shakes his head. “I’ll come out of hiding and beat him up if that happens. Scum like that deserve it.”

“No need, Mulder. I’ll beat them up myself with you in mind.”

—

“Tomorrow’s your birthday,” Mulder says, looking at her over his book.

She looks at him over hers. “It is. Are you planning anything special now that you’re a free man?”

“Maybe. It’s a surprise.” They share a smile.

“Well, I think that surprise should include some shrimp scampi,” Scully says, looking down at her book.

“Duly noted. One shrimp scampi surprise coming right up, madam.”

“I’m coming home early tomorrow, like usual—three o’clock.”

“Sounds good.”

“Don’t burn down the house.”

“I promise: No house burning will occur on the premises.”

—

Now that he owns a car again, Mulder finds that his fantasies of traveling the world and staying out until all hours of the night pale in comparison to the more simple pleasures of his life. He couldn’t stop smiling the first time he went grocery shopping with Scully; they even got to hold hands in public in a romantic sense for the very first time.

Mulder’s known her for about a decade and a half, now; they know each crevice and intricacy of the other. It took concerted effort on his part to plan Scully’s surprise in a manner that didn’t raise her hackles enough to investigate—she never was one to overlook changes in other people’s behavior. So, now, walking into Our Lady, he’s battling a megawatt grin at the success of his plan.

“I can take you, sir,” one of the front desk receptionists says.

Mulder speeds up his pace until he’s standing in front of him. “Hi, I’m here for my two-thirty appointment with Dr. Scully?”

“Mark Parrack?”

“Yep, that’s me.”

The receptionist nods as he inputs Mulder’s arrival. “Alright, Mr. Parrack. Dr. Scully’s office is the fourth one down on the second floor to the left.”

“Thank you.”

—

The door to Scully’s office is closed and locked, which throws a bit of a wrench in his plan to surprise her in her office. “Oh, Dr. Scully’s just finishing up with one of her patients, but she usually leaves her door unlocked when she has consultation appointments.” Mulder startles and looks to his right, taking in the figure of Dr. Gasteau. He fights the urge to nod in recognition as she tucks a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “She’s been complaining about the faulty lock for a couple days. Come on, my office is the one right next to hers, and they have adjoining doors.”

Gasteau unlocks her own door and leads Mulder through, opening the adjoining door for him. “I’m sure Dr. Scully will be in shortly!”

He smiles and nods. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course.”

—

Mulder only has to wait a few minutes before the sound of Scully unlocking the door bleed through, so he quickly leans back in her chair and puts his feet up on the desk, crossing his ankles. She opens the door and, immediately, she stops in her tracks.

“Surprise, honey. Happy birthday!” Mulder stands up and pulls her into the office by her hands.

“Mulder... How?” Her eyes are wide and her eyebrow is arched dramatically.

“I’m your two-thirty. You’ve been talking about how you want me to get out more so I thought we’d have a night on the town doing normal people things. I’ve got us hair appointments—you’ve been talking about a trim and how I look like a dog—” Scully smiles at that, cheeks slowly turning pink. “—and I have an appointment for you to get a manicure and a pedicure. Then we can go home and you can relax while I make that shrimp scampi you requested, and the rest is up to you. Though I will say that the bed is freshly laundered.”

She closes her eyes and looks down, bashful. “Mulder...” she says in the way she always does when he showers her with affection in public.

“You can get me back in October. There’s supposed to be a meteor shower on my birthday this year.”

Scully giggles—giggles!—before standing on her toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “We better get going if we’re going to make those hair appointments, then.”

She packs her things away and sheds her lab coat for her winter one before picking up her briefcase in one hand and taking his in the other. Her coworkers stare at them as they leave, whispering and talking behind their hands at the sight of the enigmatic Dr. Scully exiting the hospital with her beau.

At the halfway point between their cars, Mulder slips his hand from hers and slides it around her waist, tugging her along to his car. “My treat. I’ll be your chauffeur for the night and I’ll drop you off to grab your car before we head home for dinner.”

Scully nods. “I’ll be the talk of the hospital tomorrow,” she says, a little smirk on her lips.

“Good. Now everyone knows that Dr. Dana Katherine Scully is very much taken.”

She smiles wider and leans her head against him. “And now I’m slightly less of an enigma. They’ll probably start inviting me to things again just so they can mine information about you.”

“Thank you for the boost to my ego.”

She laughs and nudges him to the side with her body. “Shut up, Mulder. I’m celebrating my birthday.”

#txf #fanfiction #mine #this was so much fun to write

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luimagines · 3 years ago

Text

You give them a kiss!

Masterlist

Despite the earlier confusion, I’ve got it done! Here you go Anon!

Since there wasn’t any specification, it’s set platonically (but maybe hidden feels) so I hope that’s ok.

Content under the cut!

Wind

You hear Wind call your name. It’s loud and joyful and inexplicably full of excitement.

It immediately light your heart and you turn to see where the voice came from. Wind is starting to run in your direction something clenched in his hand. You can see it sway from his grip but he’s moving too fast for you to get a good view of what it is.

He stops in front of you, hiding what he had behind his back with a a wide grin his face. “I’ve got something for you!~”

You smile and drop what you’re doing, giving him your full attention. “What is it Pirate?”

“Close your eyes.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Please!”

You oblige.

There’s a moment of silence before you feel something being placed on your head. It’s light but it feels oddly familiar and you open your eyes.

Whatever was in Wind’s hands before is gone and he’s staring at you with a pleased look on his face.

You slowly raise your hands to touch what it is and feel yourself smile.

It’s a flower crown.

“I made it myself!” Wind declares proudly. “Hyrule showed me how to make them. It’s not exactly the first one I made... That one didn’t come out as good, I think. But I like this one and thought it would look great on you!”

Your smile widens to a grin and you pull Wind into a hug. Your heart swells in adoration for this boy and you spin him around somewhat. “I love it! Thank you!”

You pull away slightly and give him a kiss on the forehead as thanks. “You’re very sweet.”

There’s a slight blush on his face as he pulls away from you, but his smile never falters. “Well, I’m glad you like it.”

Twilight

"Hey Twilight!" You skip to his side and place your hands on your hips. "How are you on this beautiful day?"

"I'm doing mighty fine, thank you." Twilight tosses a grin over his shoulder before he goes back to checking through Epona's supplies.

"What-cha doing?"

"Just checking through an old bag of mine. I'm looking for a new shirt."

This piques your interest. "Why?"

"My current one is starting to smell to kingdom come so while it needs to be washed, I need to find my other one."

"Well... I mean it's not that....Yeah..... Wild and I didn't want to say anything, but at least you're aware."

"Ok. Thanks." Twi deadpans. "I can feel your support from miles away. I am so glad that I'm traveling with you lot."

"We like having you around too!" You grin and punch his shoulder lightly. "Enough so that it's easy to tolerate the dog smell."

"You know what-" Twilight takes a swing in your direction but you easily dodge it. He's quick to follow you and take another swing.

You catch it and bring his fist towards your mouth to place a quick kiss on his knuckles.

"Maybe a shower will help too." You grin.

Twilight groans and takes his hand back. "I'll take that into consideration."

He begin to absentmindedly rub his thumb over where you kiss him even as he turns away from you and back to Epona.

"Glad I could help."

"Get out!"

You leave laughing.

Warrior

"Excuse me, but I need your assistance." Warrior walks up to and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. "It'll only take a moment."

"Sure thing Capitan." You grin and drop your little project into your pocket. "What do you need?"

"I heard that you have a specific set of skills that I believe would help me greatly in a personal endeavor of mine."

"Drop the fancy talk." You deadpan. "It only makes you look suspicious."

"I want you to teach me about flowers." He admits in a rush.

"...Why?"

"...Seeecret." Warrior hisses through his teeth, unwilling to tell you why. "You're good at knowing what plants do what and how they help people. You're the best person to go to."

"It comes with the territory of herbalism." You grin. "But it's not all about flowers. I'd have to know what you're going to do with the plants if you want me to help you."

Warrior pauses and he takes a while to think about your reply. There's a moment where you can see that's he's battling himself about your conditions. Somewhere among the lines he comes a consensus and sighs. "...But it was supposed to be for you."

There's a blush on his face and he begins to scratch the back of his neck. He's not meeting your eyes.

His reveal surprises you and you smile at the soft confession. You stare at him for a little moment longer you snort. "Ok fine. I'll let you keep your secrets. I've been teaching Hyrule about being an herbalist and he's learning at an incredibly fast rate. He's your second best bet at this point."

"The Traveler?" Warrior blinks. "When did you start doing that?"

"A while ago." You shrug and skip in his direction until you're toe to toe.

"Whatever your surprise is I'm sure I'll like it." You say and go up onto your tip toes to place a quick kiss on his cheek. "You're a sweetheart. thank you in advance. I'll be waiting!"

You hear Warrior audibly gulp as you leave. "Ok! I'll- I'll get working on it!"

Wild

"Wild! I'm bored!" You cry out and flop onto the ground.

You were placed on Wild babysitting duty, curtesy of Twilight, while the others went to go scope out the nearest village for both supplies and information. But because of Wild stepping out of line and going against orders, he was benched until further notice.

"We're both bored." Wild groans and flops on top of your stomach.

You grunt with the unexpected pressure and force from the hit and drop your arm onto his face. "What can we do!?"

"I don't know!"

"But you always have something on your mind."

"That doesn't mean I can just pop out an idea whenever I want!" He shouts back. "My creative process is an enigma. Not even I can control it or will it into action."

You sigh. "So now what?"

A moment of silence.

"Wanna make out?"

"What?" You sit up, pushing Wild off of you in the process.

"Kidding! Kidding!" Wild laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. "I saw an opportunity and I took it."

"Wild." You deadpan, not elaborating on anything else. You do not continue your sentence.

Wild descends into snorts and giggles at your unamused face and he's completely lost himself in his own head.

In the distance you can hear Legend and Warrior arguing with each other and know that you're time alone with the wild child is up. A wicked streak kicks up inside you and you smirk to yourself.

Before the others can come close enough to see the both of you, you maneuver upwards and into Wild's personal space and place a kiss smackdab on his cheek- stilling him entirely.

"Next time-" You say as you stand. "-Tell me what you want to do before the others can come and interrupt."

You send him a quick wink and leave him to his thoughts. You're quick to greet the others and act as if nothing had happened at all.

Wild is still stunned and red in the face where you left him even as the others come close to the camp.

Twilight goes to question what's wrong with him but from what you can hear, Wild doesn't kiss and tell.

Time

Time calls your name with audible hesitation.

It's unusual to say the least and it's enough for you to drop every you're doing and give him all of your attention. "What's up? Is something wrong?"

Time doesn't say anything nor does he make eye contact, and it's even more concern as the moment passes.

"Are you ok?" You stand and make your way toward him.

Time clears his throat for a hot second and takes a steadying breath to meet your eyes. "Everything is fine, it's just, I wanted to ask for your opinion."

You're confused. "That's it? Time, you freaked me out for a second. Ask away."

"Um..." Time stalls intelligently. "Wind pointed out there's a shore line nearby. I was thinking the boys could use a day off....play in the water or the sand, just a break to-"

"YES! Yes! Yes!" You scream and jump up in excitement. "Really? Are we that close? We can have a beach day? Are you serious? Can we go?"

You can feel yourself beam and if he were to say that everyone was getting ice cream and can sleep in tomorrow then you were sure you'd be vibrating.

He looks at you with mild surprise but a soft smile crosses over his face.

"Link, that's a great idea!" You jump on him, hug him, wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek. "This is great! When? Today? Tomorrow?"

You drop and jump a bit on your toes still.

He grins. "I wanted to see if we could camp there tonight, and spend the whole day tomorrow just relaxing."

"I can do that! We can do that! This is great! It'll be so much fun! I hope there's waves. I've wanted to teach Wild how to surf and maybe we can get Twilight to join. This is great!" You're too excited to think about where to go but Time points in a direction behind with a wink.

"How about you go help pack up the camp? I'll go collect the boys!"

"Absolutely! You absolute champion!" You run off to go meet up with some of the others and do your given task.

Time chuckles a bit and places his fingertips against where your lips were. It wasn't the reaction he was expecting, but he's not complaining.

Legend

"Excuse me Mr. Hero, what do you think you're doing?" You walk up behind Legend and put your hands on your hips.

You had caught him going through your bag. As obvious as it was that he was trying to be stealthy, he wasn't fast enough to get out before you came back.

Legend freezes on the spot and doesn't turn around to look at you.

"Why are you going through my stuff?" You raises an eyebrow and try to not yell. It's a barely restrained rage that flows through your blood as someone goes through your things without your permission. But it's Legend, you trust him and you don't want to take things out of proportion or escalate things higher than they should.

"I... Um..." Legend gulps and stands up, leaving your bag alone. He kicks the flap over, hiding the insides of it from other prying eyes.

You keep your eyebrow raised and watch as he squirms uncomfortably under your stare.

"I was trying to see if you needed anything." He somehow manages to look up and look you in the eye.

"Like?"

"Supplies."

"Like?" You press.

"Just stuff." Legend snaps and walks away. "We got back from shopping. I just wanted to know if you needed anything."

"And you didn't think to just ask?"

"It's whatever!" He storms away a little quicker than you think he would normally. He's hiding something.

You quickly make your way to your bag and shuffle through it.

You're not missing anything.

Nothing of yours is gone but there's a new thing you notice.

You see three new healing potions that were decidedly not there before along with four packs of trail mix and food stuffs that look nothing like what you usually pack for yourself.

Understanding cascades over you like a wave and you take a deep breath to calm the last of your budding anger.

You seal your bag and leave it there, quickly following after Legend before he can get too far.

You power walk next to him and stop him with a hand on his shoulder. "Hey."

"I didn't do anything!" Legend pulls himself away from you.

"Doubt it." You lean in and place a quick kiss on his temple before he can get away from you entirely. "Thank you. I saw what you did."

"And what did I do?" He wipes it off aggressively.

"Something very kind."

Legend stills once more and keeps rubbing off your kiss. "...It's nothing."

You snort and begin to walk away from him. "Regardless, thank you."

"...You're welcome."

Hyrule

“Would you believe me if I said that I’ve never seen someone be able to do this before?” You ask Hyrule one day out of the blue.

“Do what exactly?” He pauses the spell, your wound stays only marginally healed because of it.

“Do magic.” You shrug. “It’s... not really a thing where I’m from. We have magician but they’re all for show and it’s mostly illusions. You know, smoke and mirrors and the like. If you can figure out how they do it when it’s pretty simple.”

“That sounds... depressing.” Hyrule twists his face and goes back to healing you. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“It’s not so bad. It’s mostly for fun.” You try to sit up now that the pain isn’t as severe. Hyrule doesn’t let you. “Can’t lose what you never had.”

“But it’s all I’ve ever had.” Hyrule’s eyebrows furrow and you can see the gears turning in his head.

You let him think in the time it takes for you to get fully healed. Hyrule has always needed a little space to get his thoughts together before he says something.

You’re fully healed in seconds and Hyrule leans away from you. You get to finally sit up fully and you take his hand in yours. He lets you take it and lets you study his hand with gentle fascination.

No words are exchanged between the two of you and you pull his hand even closer to you. Before Hyrule can even think of pulling away you place a kiss against his knuckles.

“It’s a gift.” You say. “Don’t take it for granted.”

Hyrule smiles slightly and grips your hand. “Thanks. I think you might have a concussion though.”

“It’s nothing you can prove.” You answer with a loopy smile.

Hyrule snorts and stretches his hand by your head.

“Oh, yeah.” He grins. “That explains it.”

Four

Four calls your name with slight hesitation and you instantly give your attention to him out of concern.

When you see him, he’s hiding something behind his back, slightly hunched back and has a blush on his face. He doesn’t appear to be injured or in any sort of pain so it can’t so bad.

“Four?” You stand up fully and begin to walk in his direction. “Everything ok? Is something wrong?”

Four shoots up and begins to stammer slightly. “No, I- You see- It’s nothing! Everything’s fine.”

“Four.”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just- it’s nothing.” Four laughs unconvincingly and scratches the back of his neck. “Here. I made this for you.”

Four holds out a little package covered in cloth with both of his hands and refuses to make eye contact with you.

Intrigued, you close the distance between you two and reach out to take it. The cloth seems high quality and you wonder how much it must have cost to get even a fraction of the square he’s just given you. The package itself is hefty or at least heavier than you thought it would be.

Four is still refusing to make eye contact but he stays with the clear intent of watching for your reaction.

You unfold the cloth over the weight and hold it from under. Repeating a similar action for the other side, you see underneath it two beautifully crafted twin daggers. The hilt is what catches your attention the most. It has red and black accents, each of the colors swirl around each other and mimic the wings of a butterfly when placed side by side. There was a hook at the end of each dagger, expertly hidden and you wouldn’t have found it if it hadn’t nagged your sleeve as you passed your fingers over the blade.

You looked with intrigue and gently picked up the blades out of the cloth. You tossed the cloth onto your shoulder and hooked the blades together out of curiosity.

They fit together perfectly to create an elongated weapon.

“You made this?” Your breath leaves you in a whisper as you admire the craftmanship. “How? When?”

“It’s a secret.” Four grins softly, not bothering to hide his self satisfied smirk..

“And it’s for me?” You grip it tighter and flip it through your fingers, spinning it slowly.

“Yup.”

You don’t reply, too enraptured in taking it all in. Even as you spin it, it’s astonishingly light for both of them being combined than you feel it should be.

It must have taken a while to make this.

“Do you like it?” Four returns to be being bashful and kicks the dirt softly.

Your head snaps in his direction and you fling your arms around him. “I love it!”

Four takes a step back from the collision and is too shocked to hug you back.

“Thank you!” You shout and give him the biggest kiss you think you get away with on his cheek.

“I’m totally showing these off!” You bounce off of him. “Wild’s going to be so jealous! Thank you Four!”

You run away to find something to use them against as Four stays behind.

A hand slowly reaches up and touches the cheek where you kissed him. “You’re welcome.”

Sky

“SKY!” You shout and take off in a running sprint. You’re by his side in seconds and you’re quick to wrap your arms around him. He wraps his arms around you as well and turns your momentum in a spin.

“Well hello there!” He calls back in return, a grin on his face. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Would it just be enough to say that I just missed you?” You grin back and get off of his back, keeping your arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"Perhaps, if I didn't know you as well I do." Sky replies with a subtle smirk.

"Rude."

"Am I wrong?" Sky raises a teasing eyebrow.

"That's what you think. I am a ball of mystery." You let him go and step away. "I am in no way predictable. There's no way you can know all my moves."

"I bet that I could."

"I doubt it."

"Try me."

"Alright." You tilt your head up and place a kiss squarely on his cheek.

It stuns him in place and you grin at the result.

"Bet you didn't see that coming."

"Admittedly-" Sky gulps and blushes all the way to his neck. "-I did not."

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #This was fun!#This was all written out of order #the way some are longer than others amuses me #let me know what you think!!

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howisyournight · 3 years ago

Text

closure

unedited, not proofread and angst :)

death is a dangerous bridge of thought one should cross. death is an enigma - a concept beyond a mortal's beating heart.

xiao lingers in the gray area between life and death each time he goes to fight. his karmic binds that both sides tug on leave him exhausted, to say the least.

"i deal in death. if you cannot bring yourself to kill, speak my name."

he had said this to you multiple times. mostly whenever you left to go adventuring. xiao meant it, wherever you may be, he will come to you - be it outside of the land he swore to protect.

xiao felt it first. the swaying of trees stopping after a heartbeat. the night became eerily quiet. his eyes narrowed, gazing ahead into the horizon in suspicion.

then he heard it. it was faint but it was there. when the wind picked up and the bats continued squeaking, a whisper called out to him weakly. xiao's heartbeat synced with the swaying of bamboo trees.

x...xiao...

sparks of anemo swirled with dust drifted in the wind where he once stood. however quiet it was, he knew it was you.

xiao expected to be greeted by your smile, or a foe you couldn't defeat but instead, he felt the crunch of grass mixed with snow. dragonspine. he was familiar with this place, the place infested with durin's being.

perhaps xiao was convincing himself to disappear again, to flutter into a million swirls of wind and fight monsters in liyue again. but instead, he stood frozen as his eyes landed on your silhouette. you were seated, leaning against a fir tree.

was it his karma? xiao's mind searched for a solution desperately. his stoic expression breaking ever-so-slowly.

xiao...

you muttered his name with a smile as if you were meeting for something casual. xiao kneeled beside you, his hands shaking before reaching to take his weapon out. you'd snatched his hand softly, revealing the red veins that was crawling inside your arm. it painted your skin like a canvas. his weapon faded into sparks.

you'd said to him how you saved a family from a rogue lawachurl near what it seemed like the heart of durin.

xiao sighed, wiping a few stray hair from your face. he placed his hand behind your head and knees before disappearing. the moon illuminating the blood you'd left behind.

you felt grass prick your neck and smelt the flowers that littered the ground. xiao had taken you to your favorite place, atop of a mountain in jueyun karst, filled with qingxin flowers. you let out a soft laugh, lifting a hand to cup his cheek.

how sweet of you.

your teasing voice made him smile bitterly. you'd told him many things that night. before your eyes finally took their rest eternally. xiao couldn't cry, he didn't know how to. he sat there with your head on his lap under the moonlight.

you loved him, and he loved you. perhaps that thought would bring him closure. this pain compared greatly to his karmic debt. his regrets and mistakes stabbed him straight through but you'd reassured him that none of this was his fault. he believed you, he still does. maybe he was doing it for you. xiao hopes time wouldn't erase your presence in his life - your memories.

you loved him, and he loved you.

written with hayd's closure playing. give it a listen.

#genshin impact #genshin #impact #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #xiao genshin #xiao x reader #; luna writes for genshin #; luna's masterlist #dont mind me im just dropping angst

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bukojuiice · 4 years ago

Text

fix you.

ೃ pairing: (village prince! katsuki bakugo x princess mononoke! reader)

ೃ tags: princess mononoke au! studio ghibli au!

ೃ warnings: mild use of weapons and strong language

ೃ part 1/2 of the princess mononoke! au

ೃ word count 4.119 words

ೃ 2/??? of @bukojuiice’s studio ghibli au

ೃ my nav → my mha writing masterlist → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ Loosely based off of Princess Mononoke! Not necessarily a word for word retelling/alternate universe. You can read on without any prior knowledge of this beautiful Studio Ghibli film. Hope you enjoy!

ೃ if you want to be part of this studio ghibli au taglist, send me an ask! or if you want to be a part of my mha taglist in general, send me an ask indicating whichever you want to be a part of!

ೃ please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ shoto todoroki’s fic (howl’s moving castle au) for those of you who want to read the first in this series!

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34 @sparkykatsuki @ramunegoddess

ೃ Katsuki Bakugo is the righteous yet arrogant village prince of the east. The entire village relies on him for protection and for guidance, further inflating his ego. however, after a cursed boar attacks him and the curse is passed on to him as a poisonous mark on his arm, slowly consuming him until he becomes a demon himself. he is exiled without hesitance from his village and is to go on a journey to look for a cure, a journey he might never come back from. With the help of two of his most trusted allies, he embarks on a journey to look for the gods of the forest in where he meets a girl (just as striking as him) who brings him back down to earth, saves him and make him experience a true life worth living.

“Damn this life.” Katsuki curses under his breath, rolling up his sleeves, and collecting clear water from the riverbend and transferring it into his jar.

“Hey! This isn’t that bad!” Eijiro Kirishima, son of the second in command to Katsuki’s mother, his most trusted ally and #2 most annoying fucker on this planet, cheekily grins, patting the blonde on the back. “We’ve gone through worse things in the past. And yet here we are! We’re still alive! Aren’t we?”

“Yea! We’ll find the forest gods soon! Offer food for them and hopefully they give us a cure! This is going to be easy!” Denki Kaminari, another one of his most trusted allies, grandson of one of the wise elders, and #1 most annoying fucker on this planet, reassures his friend whilst aimlessly fixing the saddle on his elk.

Why did life have to be like this?

Who did Katsuki Bakugo infuriate from high above to have this tremendous bad luck and fate be put upon him? All he wanted was to live a noble life as a village prince, have his mother pass down her position of power onto him, become the new village chief, live a life of prosperity, help his people, and then pass away with no regrets. But life just had to do this to him no?

After an unexpected attack of a raging cursed boar consumed by black slithering enigmas in the hills of Mustafu village, the handsome village prince was the only one able of combat who was around the vicinity at the time. He had no choice but to hurl himself in front of the boar, shooting one of his famed arrows, sharper than most and one of the best in his arsenal. The boar had met its demise by his hands. However, not without getting revenge at Katsuki, by passing its curse onto him. The black ooze slithering onto his arm before the animal had fully perished.

That was the worst day of his life.

As the son of the village chief and as one of the most well-known individuals in his tribe, how was he supposed to react?

Katsuki had always been number one. Never once slipping to loss or to failure. Never getting injured. Never letting his guard down. Never disappointing his parents. Never losing his pride nor his mighty personality.

He was the paragon of success.

But, sometimes, the best people feel lost and useless too.

The fact that his mother had easily let go of him, have the wise villager elders speak ill of him and banish him, having to leave everything he had loved and worked hard for, lose his position as a prince, and have the people of his village look at him in abhorrence and disgust, had ended up becoming the most painful experiences he ever had to go through in his entire life.

Leaving quietly at the dead of the night with no proper goodbyes but a brief hug, gift of a good luck charm from his mother, and the willing accompaniment of his two most trusted friends (although he would not like to admit the appreciation he has for them, he was very grateful) on this fruitless journey… He could never have it any other way.

What kind of life was he even going to lead from here on forth?

He didn’t want to stop believing. He didn’t want to lose hope. This wasn’t like him. Katsuki Bakugo knew who he was. He knows how headstrong he is, how prideful, persevering, and how much of a smart-ass he is. He had no time to sulk and contemplate about his demise and what fate had in store for him.

Although, it would be nice if he could release all these pent-up emotions and frustrations at least once. Just once.

He just has no idea how to and who to open up to.

Putting his vulnerable emotions aside, he is going to defy his destiny and take down whatever may come his way.

Making sure no one was going to stop him from doing so.

“Let’s go.” Katsuki jerks his head, gesturing his party members to start walking to the other side of the forest.

“Wait… haven’t we gone there already?” Kaminari protests, not raising his voice nor overreacting because even he knew that Katsuki was on a bad mood as per usual. (With this being the second afternoon of their journey and because they have to leave their animal companions by the river due to how unstable the geographical and terrestrial properties of the forest were.)

Katsuki shoots him a glare, the other blonde clearing the lump in his throat in response. “Okay okay! Let’s go then!”

They quietly navigate through the forest, hearing nothing but the sound of their own feet stepping on the grass, crickets chirping, fireflies flying about, the towering trees swaying with the wind, and the calming yet lonely atmosphere of the woodlands to accompany them.

“Kirishima.” Bakugo calls out coldly. “Are you sure that this is the same forest depicted in the legends?”

“Positive.” Kirishima replies, nodding aimlessly whilst turning his head and taking in their surroundings. “If we spot some Kodama, that means we’re near the tree that stands alone.”

“Tree that stands alone?” Denki asks, tilting his head and sparking a discussion. “Also, what even is a Kodama?”

“You’re the grandson of a village elder yet you’re asking me?” Eijiro narrows his eyes at his other blonde friend. “Kodama are the little white spirits who live in trees. They don’t necessarily guide travelers but instead watch them. They only intervene if ever anything bad happens. If we see them appear then that means we’re close to the spiritual core of the forest. The tree that gives life.”

Yakushima Forest. Located in the southern region, is the settlement of the forest gods and the place where the oldest trees of Japan and those known to man stand strongly. The power and the spiritual energy stored in this wonderous and enchanting forest could only be seen and could only be discovered by heroes and travelers with a pure of heart as the forest was welcoming only to visitors with pure and selfless intentions. However, to those who wish to exploit it and to ruin its beauty will be punished heavily by the gods in the most gruesome ways possible.

Katsuki breathes out a hefty sigh, leading his two other friends who were happily following him from behind. There was this bizarre feeling of anxiety welling up inside him. He was not himself and he couldn’t tell why. All he could do was pretend to remain calm and collected…

He will find that cure.

He will be able to save himself and he will be able to come back to his village, victorious and free of the curse.

Bakugo stops in his tracks when they encounter another streaming river. His two companions almost bump into him with how abrupt he halted in his steps.

There was something amiss in the river.

It wasn’t a bad spirit nor was it some bad energy, but Katsuki could feel something.

There was someone else there.

And he felt that they weren’t exactly the friendly type who would help them.

“Bakugo-sama, why did we stop-“ Kaminari is hushed by his blonde friend before he could even have the chance to utter another word. Kirishima quickly picked up what Katsuki is trying to motion to them and proceeds to quietly scout around the area. “There’s a girl? Wolves too.” He whispers from behind a bush not far from where his friends were standing.

“Let’s go back to the nearby village. Stay at the inn there.” Bakugo whispers sternly, as if not wanting to hear any other remarks from his friends.

“Wait! Bakugo, I know we’re near the tree. Why stop now!?” Kirishima fussed. He knew something was up. “We’re pretty close. We can just set up a fire here then-“

“I said let’s head back. Damn it.” Katsuki repeated his words. This time, in a sort of a growl. “If you don’t want to go back, feel free to die here if you want.” He starts treading back to the path where they came from. Denki looks at his red-headed friend worriedly, even he, of all people, had finally noticed that there was something wrong with their most beloved village prince. Kirishima nods at him cautiously, the two of them walking together behind Bakugo.

They quickly got back to the small village near the forest with no interruption, as the chit-chatter and the energy radiating between both Kirishima and Kaminari were low as Katsuki was in a even terrible mood, refusing to talk to any of them nor humoring their antics and small jokes.

They continue to spend the rest of their day in silence. With, Katsuki, immediately heading back to his quarters to rest whilst his two other companions remained outside to help some village folk and prepare dinner.

The village chieftain of the quaint settlement had a good relationship with Katsuki’s mother. They were good trade partners and the village chief wanted to do everything in their power to help Katsuki be free of the curse by the means of giving him a private inn to stay in and come back to whenever he and his friends would like to. It wasn’t much, but Katsuki needed all the help he could get on this otherwise hopeless quest. Even if he refused the said offers at first.

After another awfully quiet bonding time with Bakugo at dinner, the convivial duo had to break the silence. Denki had thought of the most wonderful idea of bringing up the topic of the girl who was accompanied by wolves in the forest. Because, hey, it’s a girl in the forest! What could possibly be weird about that?

“Hey! So about that girl that we saw…” Kaminari suddenly speaks up, nudging Kirishima in the arm, signaling him to answer his query. Bakugo barely looks up at the sound of his friend’s yapping, continuing to play with the food on his bowl. “Who do you think was she?”

“She’s most probably the wolf princess.” Eijiro shrugs casually, biting on a roasted corncob. “Yakushima forest is protected by the three animal gods whom we know by now as the forest gods. The Wolf goddess, The Gorilla king, and The Deer god. The Deer god being the most powerful of them all. There have been rumors and reports going around that the goddess had taken in an abandoned human girl, and was treated as one of their kin years ago. The girl holds pure resentment for her own kind and chooses to live in the Yakushima forest, taking down every single human who has negative intentions and evil plans for the land she lives in.”

“Well, if she’s that badass, then you shouldn’t call her a princess. She’s a queen!” Kaminari remarks, biting on his newly roasted corncob, listening eagerly to Kirishima’s tale. Bakugo looks up at Denki and the goofy blonde could have sworn he saw a small smile form on Katsuki’s face.

Kirishima laughs at his friend’s little quip, “You’re right. She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“You weirdos should get to sleep. We go back to the forest first thing in the morning.” Katsuki stands up from his seat, his hands in his pockets, grumpily trotting away to the inn.

“Oh.” Denki blinks. “That was faster than I thought. I didn’t expect him to be convinced so easily. Did you pull that story from your ass Kirishima-kun?”

The red-haired teen shook his head. “Nope. All of that was real.”

“For real? You’re not joking?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Goodnight then!” The other blonde leaves his seat, patting Eijiro in the arm before leaving and going back to his quarters.

Kirishima looks up at the glistening night sky, a few stars present in the sky to greet him a wonderful night, the boy hoping he would find an answer amongst the stars. “May the gods help us in our adventure.” He breathes a hefty sigh, closing his eyes. After a few more minutes of praying for guidance, he puts out the fire and retreats back to his room.

The night passes by quickly, another day of their adventure waiting to unfold.

“Don’t you dare come back here you disgusting prince.”

“No one wants him here! Got it? Let him go on this adventure and never come back!”

“He’s just a burden. To be cursed by an animal as simple as a boar? Pathetic.”

“Useless vermin.”

“Banished forever? How sad.”

“A prince falling from grace? Predictable.”

The voices of the village people echo in his head.

These were words from them that he was not meant to hear. Ones that he accidentally heard before leaving that same night. These were the words that will haunt him forever.

He, Katsuki Bakugo, of all people, would let all these horrid, vile, and false words get to him?

These were the same words with the same meaning that he’s heard hundreds and hundreds of times from different people, yet it never got to him. He chose to ignore them.

But, why now? What was going on? Why was he feeling this way?

Katsuki awakens at the dead of the night. Beads of sweat falling from his temples, his breath hitched and his body aching. He was not himself right now and this intense feeling of uneasiness and torment confirmed it. Although, he wanted to keep this to himself. He didn’t want anybody else to know what he was feeling. He could overcome this on his own. He could do this all on his own.

“I’ll show them.” He continues to breathe at a fast pace, still a bit shocked by the nightmare he had just seen. “I’ll fucking show them that I am the prince of the Mustafu tribe.” He props himself up from his sleeping mat, reaching for his neatly folded clothes beside him. “And nothing’s going to change that.”

Katsuki begins to get dressed, feeling nothing but anger and determination running through his veins. He puts on his grey vest and wraps his red cape onto his back. He continues to put on his ensemble when a sudden rush of pain begins to throb in his arm. Bakugo’s immediate reaction is to curl up, holding his stomach to try and ease the pain.

The curse was acting up again, reacting to the anger and negative emotions that Katsuki was feeling right now. The blonde winces in pain, kneeling down on the floor to take a hold of his arm that was manifesting a glowing blue and black aura. His muscle continues to throb and he could do nothing but hold it down and take in all the pain until it eventually goes away.

After several minutes of resisting and trying to ease the pain by thinking of more positive and enlightening thoughts, the throbbing suddenly stops. Bakugo goes back to breathing at a normal pace. He rests for a few minutes, making sure that his body was functioning properly once more before he quickly heads out of his private room to head to back to Yakushima forest, searching for answers. He didn’t have time to wait for Kirishima and Kaminari anymore. He was growing impatient, and hearing the haunting words of his village people circling in his head fueled his will power to get this whole ordeal done and head back home.

It was finally the end of another day protecting the forest.

You were about on your daily patrol with the wolf goddess and your wolf siblings, when you encounter three young men who looked like they were lost in the woods. You immediately assumed that they were looking for the tree of life. But they weren’t like the others. They weren’t finding it for selfish reasons. They were looking for it in hopes to find a cure for a curse. That’s what their auras were trying to show at least.

One of those men particularly piqued your interest.

He was… handsome? Was that the word that humans used?

He had ash blonde hair that spiked upwards at all angles, passionate red orbs that gave him such a striking appearance, as if he could hold up the world in his hands. Calloused hands that had taken a part in many battles, a muscular build like that of a noble warrior, a shining sword just as big as him and an arrow that he looked like he was adept at using.

Yet despite your observations, there was this mysterious air around him that you just couldn’t understand.

“(Y/N)? Dear? Is anything wrong?” The elegant white wolf goddess, Moro, calls out to her human daughter, with a worried look.

“I saw 3 dorks by the riverbend on our patrol a while ago.” You say rather jokingly, trying to remember their faces. “I should have struck them down when I had the chance.” You shake your head, reaching for the knife in your skirt and grasping it.

“How so?” The goddess twitches her ear, as if raising an eyebrow at you. “Did you feel any bad spirits within them? Any emotional aura? I told you to do that before attempting to attack anyone remember?”

“There was this particular man among them who had strong energy. He was radiating a gloomy yet aggressive energy. Like that of a person hiding their true emotions to remain strong and brave to the outside world. I kind of felt sorry for him.” Your voice trails off as you nestle your body next to the wolf goddess, along with your siblings who were cuddled up next to you too.

“Why don’t you go check up on him then?” Moro replies casually, as if teasing you. You raise your head up, feeling a tint shade of pink appear on your cheeks.

“W-what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

A shrieking noise began to ring in your ears, signaling that a human has entered the forest. You quickly rise up from the bed of leaves you were sleeping in. Running out of the cave, you gallop down a slope and sprint your way to the foot of the forest. The spirits guiding you to where you needed to go.

You feel the hostile energy yet again.

Could it be the young man from earlier?

When he enters your field of vision, you climb up the nearest tree to get a clearer look at him from above and from afar.

He still had the same expression plastered upon his face since this afternoon. An irritated and scornful look, yet there was kindness in his eyes that you couldn’t describe.

It wasn’t the kindness that you would see from the eyes of a regular person but it was a kindness that was combined with a desire to protect the people around him. It was different and oddly comforting.

You continue to observe his every move, waiting for him to mess up or try to hurt the magical properties of the forest before you confront him to ask why the hell was he even roaming around in the forest, in the middle of night like a fluffy dog.

Katsuki noticed you standing on the tree-tops.

You weren’t exactly the greatest hide and seek player.

However, he chose to shrug you off and ignore you as he continues to look for traces of spiritual energy that could lead him to the tree of life.

Based on the stories that Kirishima had told, he was actually a bit surprised by your appearance. He couldn’t make out your face with the mask that you were wearing but he noticed your mildly disheveled hair, the ragged clothes you had on, a cape made of white fur and a necklace adorned with three fangs hanging on your neck. From that alone, he knew you were a princess. Not your conventional princess per se with all the jewelry, intricate headpieces and beautiful dresses but, the presence that you have has sort of a dignified feel to it. You might not look like the part but you embodied everything that a princess should be. Headstrong, intelligent, confident in her beliefs, and never afraid to stand her ground.

That’s what Katsuki thinks at least.

With all the stories that Kirishima had recited about the Yakushima forest, you were one of the most interesting bits.

Katsuki Bakugo was enthralled by you in more ways than one.

You were a mysterious enigma that he had to unravel.

You were getting a bit tired of watching him aimlessly roam around the forest. He was absolutely going nowhere which is funny because he didn’t strike you as a person who had no sense of direction. In an alternate universe, he’d probably be kidnapped by some villain or bad guy if he continued to be reckless like this, just walking around without a care in the world.

You spoke too soon.

You barely dodge a sharp arrow that pierces through a tree. It wasn’t from the young man you were watching but from someone else. Thieves. two of them.

You forgot that you weren’t able to sense other humans entering the forest if you focus on a particular one. It completely slipped your mind that there would still be sick individuals who would try and attempt to find the riches of the forest despite the many incidents happening time and time again warning humans to not enter the Yakushima Forest if they want to explore it for their own selfish desires.

You hastily jump down onto the ground, releasing a flurry of punches and kicks at the thieves, knocking 2 of them unconscious. You thought that the fight was over until you hear agonizing screams from the other side of the forest.

You quickly sprint your way there, hoping nothing serious had happened and no one was hurt in the process.

You arrived in a secluded area, tall trees covering the sun or the moon for the light to seep into, resulting in a dark and gloomy atmosphere.

You stop in your tracks when you notice six thieves unconscious on the ground too. You were about to breathe a sigh of relief when you notice that the boy was panting heavily, injuries and deep wounds were present all around his body. He was terribly injured. He stares at you for a few seconds before collapsing onto the ground.

You grit your teeth, approaching him with a scornful look. “You’ve wasted your life by getting in my way!” You sheathe his blade from it’s scabbard, pointing it directly to his chest. Katsuki’s chest rises up and down, a sign showing that he was breathing normally but was at the brink of unconsciousness.

“I’ll cut your throat! That will shut you up!”

“You’re beautiful…”

He mumbles, his eyes fluttering open, making intense eye contact with yours.

You suddenly feel your heart race, thumping loudly. You pull the sword away and jump away from him. You were taken aback by his words because of how he caught you off guard just like that. Who gave him the right to do this to you? Who was he in the first place?

Why did he make you feel all these soft and mushy feelings right now?

Who gave him the right to do this to you?

A human being?

A feeling sparking in your chest...

Is this what humans call love?

- To be continued.

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kingofkingdom-archive · 4 years ago

Text

So Much Like Stars - Part TWO

Pairing: Boba Fett x Female Reader

Part TWO (Read Part One HERE)

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Summary: During a trek through the mountains, you discover new things about both Boba and yourself.

Warnings: Explicit sex, p-in-v sex, hand feeding, breathplay, choking kink, power dynamics/power play, royalty kink (?), dom/sub dynamics, pool sex (kinda you'll see), unprotected sex, coming inside (do not do this in real life), age difference, dirty talk, spit kink, offscreen oral sex, AFAB reader, safe to read if triggered by pregnancy

Word Count: 10k+

A/N: Major apologies in order for the delay on this one! It's been up on AO3 (here) for a hot minute but it took me a bit longer to get around to posting it here. Anywho... here it is. Let me know what you think! I love to get reblogs/comments/messages so very much. As always, no use of Y/N, and please heed the warnings. <3

The early hours of the following day fly by like ash in the wind.

You and Boba leave as soon as you are able, gathering necessary supplies into packs and preparing for the grueling trek ahead of you. You notify your father of your departure - he is not happy about it, but he learned long ago that he has little sway over the decisions you make.

You also find Boba a cloak that fits over his armor and that doesn't hinder his ability to reach his weapons. It's thick around his neck, which is why you'd insisted he wear it.

He'd stopped complaining once you were about a kilometer out from the village gate.

The howling wind swirls around the two of you, snow and ice collecting on your clothes. The journey is not an easy one, but with Boba's natural strength and your knowledge of the terrain the two of you handle it better than most.

Boba's steps are always audible behind you, even when the air around you seems to be screaming. You appreciate his closeness, because far too often people have been lost and never found because they fell too far behind.

It's easy to become lost in a place like this. Being found tends to be a matter of life and death.

The sheer cliff faces and shifting dunes of snow present the most hazardous challenges on your journey. One single misstep could have either of you tumbling down, and as you walk you only gain elevation, increasing the distance between you and the ground below. It's terrain that you've traversed plenty of times, but you don't know how well-suited Boba is to such harsh elements.

You glance back at your companion when you come to a turn, sheltered from the biting wind and driving snow.

"Faring alright back there?" You have to yell to be heard, but Boba nods.

"I'm doing just fine, princess. Seen worse than this."

You raise your brows, even though he can't see your face through your mask. "If you say so. We'll be on this trail for the rest of today and most of tomorrow. Then we'll turn off and find the source."

There is, of course, the risk of encountering an ongrol. The idea of it looms over your journey like a dark cloud, and you keep alert to any shift in the wind or in the landscape ahead. The constant drone of air around you would typically mask the sound of any movement, but your ears have become attuned to listening for things outside the wind. Footsteps, especially those of a creature larger than yourself, will be obvious. The ongrol are not known for their stealth - if they want to attack, they'll do it with a thunderous leap and a swipe of razor-sharp claws.

You'd been telling the truth when you told Boba it was rare to escape an encounter with one alive. Boba had shown you the fire-blaster on his arm, and the two of you have no shortage of weapons, but still you worry. You keep alert, listening to the world around you.

Though your focus has a tight hold on your mind, you can't help but let your thoughts wander to Boba, and to the events of the previous night.

In all your life, you've never met a man quite like Boba.

Not only did he sense your needs intrinsically, it seemed as though he saw right through you the moment he laid eyes on you. You recall seeing his visor tilt toward you in the meeting room; you hadn't known it then, but now you can imagine what he'd been thinking. Boba saw your presence at that table and immediately knew what kind of girl you are.

It doesn't speak well to your sensibilities as a village leader, if you're being honest with yourself. This is the first foreigner to visit your people, and you let him into your home, between your legs? You suddenly feel rather guilty about it, but a small voice in your head reminds you how good it felt.

How good he felt.

Maker above. Nothing in your life could ever compare to the things he made you feel last night. Armor against skin - ice against fire, rough edges against smooth curves. The smell of him in your nose as he pleasured you, unkempt and raw. The splay of his hands on your hips as he took, and took, and gave you so much in return.

Boba knew exactly how to take you apart. And you'd only met him that day.

You didn't delude yourself into believing this could continue. He does not belong here, and you certainly can't leave. Above all else, your people need you, and to leave the planet would be to abandon them.

You steel your heart into acceptance. You'll enjoy Boba's company for as long as he's here, and then things will return to normal. You'll figure out how to hide the kyber and no one will bother you. Your people will live on in peace.

Whether you will ever find peace after knowing what it is to be with Boba Fett is another matter entirely. But you can't dwell on that, or you might decide to do something drastic.

You let that thought slip from your brain quickly, replacing it with memories of last night. Despite yourself, you smile beneath your mask, surely blushing as well. Though your steps forward are certain and sure, your center heats up at the thought of his hand around your throat, of his thick cock moving wickedly inside you.

From the depths of your mind float up a few words he'd said, a phrase you'd forgotten until just now.

Come for your king.

Odd, his choice of wording. It sends a shiver down your spine, but then you give it a moment of thought. Surely he didn't mean king in the context of you, of your village - that wouldn't make any sense. But then again, he couldn't mean --

You furrow your brow. Yes, it was the heat of the moment, but he still said it.

There's a possibility of something more there, something much more than just a bounty hunter in search of a handful of credits and some relief for the night. You remember how he'd asked if you knew his name, like he'd expected you to.

Do you know the name Boba Fett, princess?

Boba Fett. No, you have no knowledge of that name outside the armored man trekking behind you.

Who is he?

You frown, but decide to keep your questions to yourself for now. You're nothing if not careful - keeping your cards close to your chest is a skill you've more than mastered.

Boba Fett, no matter who he is, will be none the wiser to your doubts.

That night, once darkness begins to envelop the air around you, you lead Boba to a small, secluded, empty cave safe from the cold wind. There's a dark scorch mark on the ground, evidence of a past campfire.

"I've used this cave a number of times," you explain as you take off your pack, setting it on the ground with a groan. The weight on your shoulders never gets lighter. "The cold shouldn't reach us here, especially once we get a fire going."

Boba hums, unrolling his bedroll, which is a collection of mats and blankets identical to yours. "I know a few other ways we could stay warm, princess."

You look over at him. His back is turned to you, large and imposing in the dim light.

"Do you?" you ask, light with a hint of a sly smile in your voice. You lean your staff against the cave wall and crouch to begin extracting your own bedroll.

Behind you, you hear a gruff chuckle. The deep, rumbling sound of it makes your breath hitch. Boba Fett may be an enigma to you, but that doesn't mean you feel any less strongly for him now than you did last night.

In fact, the close quarters of this cave mean his words are more than just teasing.

You turn and spread your bedroll out beside the spot where you'll set up the fire, and you see that Boba has set his up so that it's perpendicular to yours, the corners overlapping.

Next you take out the meat and bread you brought along, as well as flint, some firestarter, and a few bricks of coal that will burn through the night. You prop yourself on your knees to get the fire started, and once the flames have sprung to life, you lean forward to set up the small spit to cook your meal.

You're just arranging the cut of meat on the metal spike when you feel movement behind you. The fire beneath you is searing, so hot that when you feel hands on your hips, you lean back into them to escape the heat.

Boba's hands grip your hips tighter and you yelp as he drags you backwards. His fingers land on your thigh, grasping at and arranging you until your back is flush with his chest. Your legs are tucked in between his, which are spread out in front of the two of you.

You look up at him. You're seated in his lap, but the layers of clothes and metal between you prevent you from feeling anything distinct.

He reaches a hand up to tug at your face mask.

"Let me see you," he murmurs.

You let him remove the cloth covering your mouth and nose, and then he slides your goggles off of your face. You're sure you've got marks around your eyes from wearing them for so long, but Boba doesn't seem to mind.

In return, you place your hands on the bottom of his helmet, fingers curling under. He allows you to press the small latch beneath your index finger and slide his helmet off, the warmth of his breath ghosting across your face as soon as you can see his mouth.

You lift Boba's helmet all the way off and set it to the side. He puts a hand on your waist, firm and grounding, fingers curled tightly into your ribs.

"I've been many places in my time, but I admit I've never met anyone quite like you, little one."

His words are smooth as silk, soft and tender in your ear. You smile and raise your brows, glancing from his eyes to his lips and back again.

"Surely you've met more than a few pretty girls in your travels," you reply.

Boba scoffs. His grip on your thigh tightens, pulling you close.

"I have. You…" he shakes his head, and you watch as his gazes slips down to land on your mouth. You bite your lip and your heart races at the way his pupils dilate at the sight of it.

"You're different, sweetheart."

The new pet name makes you shiver, subconsciously pressing closer to him. "Is that right? I can hardly believe I'm much different from anyone else."

You're baiting him, goading him into saying something more. You've never been one for compliments - they've always felt forced, almost disingenuous. Not with Boba.

"The girls I've known either want my head on a pike or can't look me in the eye," he tells you. You chuckle softly - you don't blame them.

"Is that 'cause you'll shoot them if they do?"

Boba grunts and pinches your side, making you squeal. You laugh, full-bodied and silly, at your own joke, spurred on by Boba's tickling.

He leans down, large body curling over you. Your giggles peter out as his lips press against your ear.

"What if I said yes, little one?"

You blink. Slowly, you turn to face him, so close that your noses are brushing.

"If you said yes?" you whisper into the air between your lips.

He hums.

You take a moment to study the scars on his face before grinning, soft and lazy. Your hand, resting on his knee, gives a gentle squeeze.

"Then I'd tell you there's more than a few men in that village who can't look me in the eye."

Your words seem to take Boba by surprise for a moment, from the way his eyebrows bounce up. It's true - when you were younger, boys in the village would try things, stupid dares and pranks you took none too lightly. There's one in particular who, if he looked at you funny, would get a blaster shot to the knee thanks to the shit he's pulled in the past.

They've learned their lessons.

"Is that so?" Boba's voice has gotten slightly deeper. It rolls through you like thunder, filling the small cave with its resonance.

You nod, a smirk playing at the edges of your lips.

His eyes flit down, gaze following the subtle movement of your mouth. It's too much - the closeness, the heat of the fire and of his body and of the way he's looking at you. You bring your hand up to rest on his shoulder, gripping his armor.

And you kiss him.

You press your lips against his, open and pliant, unable to save yourself from how much you want him. Boba groans and returns the kiss, tongue sweeping into your open mouth, licking into you like he's a man starved and you're his next meal. You savor the taste of him, because you can't pinpoint exactly what the flavor on his tongue is, and you know that must mean it's something uniquely Boba.

He shifts his hands to rearrange you, placing your legs on either side of his own so you're straddling him. Your palms come up to rest on his neck and jaw as his land on your hips, pulling you down so you're sitting right on his codpiece. You gasp at the feeling of it through your clothes. Boba bites at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth, before releasing you.

You open your eyes, not having realized you'd closed them. Boba is staring at you, but you can't read the look in his eye.

"What?" you murmur, searching his expression for any hint of what he might be thinking.

He hums, hand on your hip flexing, squeezing. "Nothing, sweetheart, just…"

You wait for him to finish his thought. His brows furrow ever so slightly as he looks back at you. Behind you, the meat sizzles from the heat of the fire, filling the space with its aromatic scent.

Boba shakes his head. "Nevermind."

Before you can respond, he presses forward to kiss you again. You want to encourage him to share what he was going to say, but it only takes a swipe of his tongue against your own to have your eyelids fluttering shut and your thoughts quieting.

He kisses you like the sun - hot and insistent, reminding you how fleeting it all is. You've only ever seen the sun a few times in your life, but its brightness seared your mind in a way not dissimilar to the way Boba's laying his mark on your heart.

You let him kiss you deeply, unhurried, until your brain clicks on long enough to remind you that there's food cooking behind you.

You extract yourself from Boba's hold, which makes him grunt in displeasure until he sees what you're doing. In your pack there's a plate and a cloth, both of which you retrieve and bring back to the fire. Carefully you take the meat off of the spit and put it on the plate, along with the bread.

Boba watches, legs still spread as he sits, leaning back on his hands. You take the plate and sit between his thighs again.

You make to tear a piece of the tender meat off, but you feel a hand on your arm, preventing you from doing so. Confused, you look up at Boba, who simply rips off his own bit of meat. But instead of bringing it to his lips, he raises it to yours.

Wordlessly, you lock eyes with him and open your mouth. His stare is hot, intense, as he feeds you, your lips closing around his index finger and thumb, tongue licking the excess juices off his skin. You take a moment longer than is strictly necessary to taste the pads of his fingers, hollowing your cheeks and sucking his digits like you might something else of his.

You chew the meat once he's pulled his fingers from your mouth. He watches intently until you've swallowed, and then he takes a piece for himself.

As he eats, you find yourself full to the brim with curiosity about him. Once he's finished with his bite, you ask the first question you can think of.

"Last night you mentioned your father. I'd like to hear about him."

Boba raises his brows. He tears off another chunk of meat, offers it to you, and you take it. He speaks as you chew.

"His name was Jango. I -" he seems to consider his words, eyes darting down to the ground as he thinks "- he wasn't technically my father, but he raised me as his son. I traveled with him as a boy, until he was killed by a Jedi."

You frown. "What's that?”

Boba looks at you funny, tilting his head. "You've never heard of the Jedi?"

You shake your head no. "Are they human?"

"Some are," he explains. "They're Force-users, claiming to fight for peace and justice in the galaxy."

His voice is bitter, but you don't blame him, if what he says is true. "But they killed your father."

Boba nods. "They will tell you they fight for what's good and right. But they are no worse than those they call enemies."

"Who are their enemies?"

"The Empire. Dark users of the Force." Boba studies you as you take in this information. You've heard of the Empire, and the Republic, but clearly some information was omitted from your village's records.

"And the Force is…?"

Boba shifts, grabbing some more meat for himself, which he eats before replying.

"I've never fully understood it myself, but from what I gather it's an energy present in all things. The Jedi and the Sith can manipulate it to their will."

You have so many questions, but you know asking them will only make you more confused. Energy in all things? That sounds… well, it sounds overwhelming, to be truthful. It sounds like magic, which your father always told you was the stuff of fairy-stories.

Boba feeds you another morsel and you eat, thinking.

"Can they 'manipulate' blaster fire?" you ask once you've swallowed.

"I don't think so. They tend to deflect it with their lightsabers, which are swords powered by kyber, coincidentally."

You wrinkle your nose. "Swords? I'd take a well-timed blaster shot over a sword any day."

Boba laughs, hearty and full. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, pressing his lips to your temple.

"That's my girl," he mutters. His words send a shiver down your spine.

Boba continues to feed you as he tells you about his father and his own travels. You learn about his time on Kamino, where Jango's DNA was made into clones, and that Boba himself is an unaltered clone of his father. You learn about Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, legendary Jedi who proved difficult for both Boba and Jango at various points through the years. He tells you about meeting Fennec Shand on Tatooine and about another companion of theirs, a man who just goes by the name Mando.

He doesn't tell you about the scars, so you don't ask.

When you're falling asleep, eyes drifting closed as your head rests on Boba's chest, you wonder at the life Boba Fett's led, how such excitement and pain ultimately finds him here, holding you close.

All you've ever known is this planet, your people. Perhaps the universe, in its vast, unknowable expanse, is really here beneath you, in Boba's stories and his scars. You think maybe it's okay that you aren't meant for more than your cold village, because at least you can travel through the galaxy just by listening to him.

At least you can know the taste of the stars just by kissing him.

The next morning is decidedly less relaxed than last night. You and Boba pack up hastily and you're on the trail when the first light of the morning is just beginning to show.

Hours pass in much the same way that they did yesterday. Snow and wind beat at you, but you press on until you reach the area you're no longer entirely familiar with.

You see the map in your mind's eye as you lead Boba across the rocky terrain. You're sure of your path, even though it's beyond any place you've been to previously. Somehow you just know, like the trail is programmed into your feet. Everything seems normal until the wind shifts and you catch the sound of something else on the air.

Throwing an arm out, fist closed, you immediately come to a halt, and Boba follows suit.

You're in an open expanse of snow and ice, still trekking upwards, but now a good distance away from any sheer cliff faces. You tighten your grip on your staff and listen, ears drowning out the howling wind to pick out the other you'd just sensed.

Something's ahead of you. Something large. You can hear the shifting of its weight, the silence of the space it takes up.

You glance back to Boba and nod. Carefully, quietly, he walks up to stand next to you.

"Up ahead," you tell him, voice as low as possible so as to not be heard by anyone - or anything - other than him. "Something big. It has to be -"

Your mouth snaps shut when you see it. Up ahead, a pair of glowing blue eyes emerge like beacons out of the fog, looming over you even before you can see the rest of its body. The ongrol moves forward, massive steps fading in and shaking the ground under your feet. You clench your jaw and ready yourself for what you know is coming.

You look over at Boba, and when the visor turns to face you, an unspoken agreement passes between the two of you, perfectly clear despite lack of words and facial expressions.

The ongrol doesn't allow you a moment longer, though. Its massive form is now visible through the driving snow - white fur with glowing blue stripes, pointed ears with long, flowing tips, and massive fangs.

You draw your blaster.

The moment it senses the two of you, it looks down and roars. Immediately it's charging forward and you fire off a volley of shots, though they don't seem to do a whole lot of good. Boba's hand comes down like durasteel on your arm and he jerks you back, positioning himself between you and the monster. He aims his fire-blaster at it, hosing it down with a torrent of flame. The ongrol yelps, then snarls, and you watch as it raises its massive paw, claws extended, piercing blue gaze zeroed in on Boba.

In that split second there's a feeling that comes over you, a gut instinct that pours over your body like warm water. It fills your skin, your nerves, your bones, so fully that your mind goes quiet in the wake of your body taking control.

As if you'd done it a thousand times before, you plant your feet and thrust your hand towards the beast, palm open. A feeling like electricity surges through you - not painful, but equally powerful and all-consuming.

The ongrol flies away, launched through the air, as if pulled by some invisible force.

Its cries echo against the mountainside as it falls, tumbling and rolling down a cliff face you can't quite see.

Boba whirls around to look at you, and the last thing you see is his visor coming closer as you collapse and the world goes dark.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the warmth surrounding you. It's everywhere, like you're lying in front of a fire, and your immediate instinct is to turn over and fall back asleep. Your tired brain wants nothing more than to bask in the heat and enjoy it for as long as it will last.

But then your eyes flutter behind their lids, and you catch glimpses of something glowing, bluish-green in a way you've never before experienced. With considerable effort, you open your eyes wide, and the sight before you brings your mind to full awareness. You struggle to tuck an arm under yourself and push up slightly, getting a better view of where you are.

You're lying atop your bedroll, your staff on the ground next to you. Immediately in front of you is a pool of water, still and steaming, that glows a bright, shimmering combination of blues and greens. No, wait… the water itself isn't glowing - rather, it's reflecting light from the walls.

Walls lined with crystals.

You still feel exhausted, despite having just woken up, but the sight of the kyber makes you jolt to a sitting position. Your head swims, dizzy and drained.

From behind you, you hear Boba's voice.

"Woah there," he murmurs, a hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out the rocking motion of the world around you.

When you open your eyes again, Boba's sitting to your left, facing you.

"What happened?" you ask, your memory of the events of this morning still foggy and distant.

Boba hums. "Well, you tossed that cat across a mountain with your mind."

You frown and look up at him incredulously. His helmet's off - in fact, he's also taken off the rest of his armor as well as the top half of his flight suit - he's left in his pants, undershirt, and boots.

His arms are bare. It's the most of him you've seen - his biceps bulge, large chest straining against the tight shirt he wears.

Your thoughts circle back to what he just said.

"Run that by me again," you mutter, searching his face for any hint of a lie. Boba blinks, raises a brow, and stares back, keeping the eye contact.

"You used the Force to kill that lion, princess."

His face is stone-straight. He's not lying to you, not that you can tell.

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut and rubbing the heels of your hands across them roughly. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids, and for a moment, your nausea abates. It comes back to you in flashes - the creature's eyes, the sound of its roars on the wind, the feeling that overcame you when you watched it raise its deadly claws at Boba.

It's nothing you've ever felt before in your life.

"So…" you pause, trying to sort through the situation. "So - does this mean… how is that possible?"

Boba puts a hand on your calf, firm and grounding. "You want my theory?"

Hands still pressed to your eyes, you nod.

"The water. It's infused with kyber, which is what has healed your people, but it must have also awoken a Force-sensitivity in you."

You take a few deep breaths, the exhaustion and nausea slowly leaving your body with each exhalation. Boba's thumb rubs your skin softly, a simple back-and-forth motion that brings your racing mind back down into your head.

Carefully, you take your hands from your eyes. The world has finally stopped spinning. You look over at the pool to your right, into its calm, tranquil waters. Steam rises from its surface and dissipates before it can reach the cavernous ceiling above you. Kyber dots the walls, green and blue all around you, mesmerizing and radiant.

Sweat is beginning to gather under your eyes and on the back of your neck and between your breasts. You belatedly realize Boba has undressed you to your undergarments, so you sit there in little more than your underwear and a sleeveless top.

You stare at your hands, fidgeting between your thighs, and look up at Boba again. A million questions are floating through your mind, but you're not sure he'll be able or willing to answer them all. You bite your lip, brow furrowed.

"Does this mean I'm a Jedi?" It's the most pressing question on your mind, because if what Boba says is true, you're not so sure you want any part in your newfound gifts.

Boba shakes his head. "No, little one. All Jedi are force-users, but not all force-users are Jedi. Or Sith, for that matter."

In your lap, you turn your hands so your palms are facing up, cradling one another. Nothing has changed about them - still the same jagged patterns of lines as always. Still the same, but with this new… sensitivity, they feel foreign.

The Force feels like a new limb, a new sense that's now made your body a stranger to your mind.

"What do you remember from yesterday?" Boba asks, rough voice a soothing balm to your racing heart.

You tilt your head, trying to gather your memories together. "I remember walking up the mountain, and then there was the ongrol. I tried to shoot it, but that didn't work, and then you pushed me behind you. You threw your fire at it, and then it -"

Suddenly, you feel yourself getting choked up. It washes over you like a gust of cool air, returning to the emotion you felt in that moment on the mountainside. You blink a few times, swallowing down your panic and fear at the thought of it.

"And then it raised its paw, and I thought you were going to die."

Boba says nothing, just waits and lets you continue.

"All of a sudden this feeling came over me, like an instinct, and then there was this… this buzz that I felt. I just did it. I don't know how I knew how to."

Boba nods. He's looking at you with an expression you can't quite place, soft and severe all at the same time. It makes you shiver despite the heat that surrounds you.

You avert your eyes, instead focusing on his hand where it lay on your leg. His fingers nearly encircle your calf. You reach out and take his hand in yours, drawing it close to you, running the tips of your fingers over his knuckles, his wrist, the silvery scars that interrupt his tan skin.

"From what I understand," Boba murmurs, curling his fingers into yours ever so slightly, "it's supposed to take years of training for a Force-user to wield that sort of power, princess."

You glance up at him. He's smiling at you now, dark eyes sparkling.

Something about his expression, combined with what he just said, hooks into your brain and sours the taste on your tongue. You recall your doubts from earlier, doubts about who he is. Why would it matter if you - a village girl from a desolate snow planet - have more of a gift than most? Why would he care?

Your immediate reaction is that he's flattering you, like he did the other night in front of the fire. For some reason, your instinct tells you this is different, that he's got motives beyond those he's revealed to you.

Instinct has proven to be on your side lately, so you follow it headfirst.

"Why did you call yourself a king?"

Boba's smile vanishes, and the tension between you grows tenfold.

You grasp his hand firmly. Your faces seem so much closer now.

"What?" he asks, even though you know he heard you perfectly well. You narrow your eyes, not liking whatever game he's playing at. Boba Fett doesn't seem to be the type to play dumb, and you're certainly not the type to fall for it.

"You heard me," you say, voice calm and monotone. "Why did you call yourself a king when you were fucking me?"

Boba chuckles, a deadly sound that would have unnerved you if you were anyone but yourself.

He raises a brow. "Interesting question. Didn't you like it?"

"I liked it a lot less when I realized you had no reason to say it, bounty hunter."

Your voice is acidic, like venom hissing out from between your teeth.

"Or am I mistaken?"

Boba hums, but it feels more like a growl with your close proximity to him. "You sure you want to fall down that sarlacc pit, little one?"

You clench your jaw, giving your answer in the way you stare unwaveringly into his eyes.

His eyes flit down to your lips and back up again. You lean back slightly in response, refusing to let him distract you.

"It's not an official title, if that's your concern," he says.

"What sort of title is it, then?" you ask, guarded heart racing once again.

Boba tilts his head to one side, taking a long moment to look at you. His breathing is slow, steady, and you try to match your own to it, but his next words throw you off balance.

"A stolen one."

You blink, a fluttering sensation erupting in your chest - and not in a good way. It's as if your heart has tripped over itself in an attempt to flee him.

He brings his free hand up to cup your cheek, tender and authoritative as he runs his thumb along your lower lip. "I killed the man who last sat on my throne, so the title is now mine."

You frown, despite the digit near your mouth. "What's your kingdom, then? Who are your subjects?"

"Those like me," he responds, without hesitation. "Hunters. Mercenaries. People who are willing to do most anything for some credits."

The dots are beginning to connect in your brain, and you're not sure you like the picture that's forming.

"Criminals. You're - you're a crime lord," you mutter.

Boba chuckles again, a smirk forming at the edges of his lips. "Something like that."

A conflicted feeling rises in your chest. You twist your chin out of his grasp, looking away and into the waters beside you. Had you known this was the man you were dealing with, would you have let him between your legs that first night? You'd like to think not. But then again, a voice in your head reasons vehemently, you knew he was a bounty hunter, and how is that any better?

You purse your lips. At the moment you're not entirely sold on what your conscience is telling you to do, which is to cut him off now and end whatever it is that exists between the two of you.

In your lap, you're still holding his hand in both of yours.

"I want to trust you, Boba," you admit. He puts his other hand on your thigh as you turn back to face him. "But I'm not daft."

He opens his mouth to speak, but you aren't finished. "I know it may not be in your nature, but I would appreciate some clarity here. What does this... this Force sensitivity really mean? I'm not some spoiled, naive princess, either - despite what you may say."

Boba is silent - his brown eyes are as intense as they are unreadable as they look at you. It drags on long enough that you get restless. You let go of his hand and turn away, tucking your feet up under yourself to stand.

The water has been calling to you each time you’ve looked at it, and you can no longer resist its draw. Tentatively, you touch a toe into the shimmering pool, marvelling at its warmth.

You walk forward. With each step, you feel as though you're gaining life, absorbing energy you hadn't known you'd lost.

The water is up to your thighs when Boba finally speaks.

"The Force will die in you if you remain here for the rest of your life, princess."

That gives you pause. You turn around. Boba is shirtless now, but he's still reclining as he was. It takes a major effort not to let your eyes drop down to his abdomen, enticing like a beacon in your periphery.

"You want to know what I’m thinking, is that right?” He asks the question like he half expects you to say no.

You nod. Around you, the warm, steaming water is rippling with your movements, but it shimmers in a manner more than can be described as distinctly natural. Almost without thought, you step backwards, submerging yourself further in its enticing warmth. Your fingers and palms skim the surface.

"I wanted to ask you to join me. To come back with me."

It almost makes you laugh, the way he says it so seriously. A disbelieving smile crosses your features.

"You know I can't leave my people," you reply. "You've known that since the start."

Boba sighs. "I have. I was still tempted to ask, regardless. Ever since the tavern."

That's interesting. This whole line of conversation is peculiar - you get the feeling he rarely needs to explain himself in such a way to anyone.

"Why? What use am I to you?"

He stands, but does not follow you into the water. Instead, he walks over to another part of the cave and leans against the wall, observing you.

"It's always been selfish," he admits. "At first I just wanted you as a crew member. You have a way for negotiating, or at least the type of negotiating that would be useful for my sort of operation.

“But then you revealed yourself to be this needy little thing, so desperate for me to fuck you, and I could just picture you in my ship, or in the palace, spread out and wanting me wherever I am.”

Those words, low and promising, cause a certain sort of wetness to pool in your underwear, one that can’t be blamed on the water that surrounds you. By now, you’re up to your collarbones in it, hands no longer visible to him as they remain at your sides.

You hook a thumb under the waistband of your panties and slide them off, slowly floating down as the water pulls them from your form. When they get low enough, you tuck them under your heel to hide the garment away.

Boba gives no hint that he sees, so you assume he cannot tell.

“You wanted to bring me back as a rare specimen, to show off to the criminals who work for you,” you retort, though something deep within you preens at the idea.

Something hidden and unknown until that night in front of the fireplace.

He just hums. “Yes.”

You can’t decide if his blunt honesty is a fault or a virtue. Right now, it’s mainly serving to bring heat to the space between your thighs. To hide your arousal, you narrow your eyes, trying to focus on why exactly he thinks he can just… whisk you away to some strange planet.

“And now,” you reply, ��what's your reason for asking me to come back with you?”

He shrugs. “As I said, without training, the Force will die in you. I have connections to nearly any type of creature in this galaxy, Force-users included. I am your only hope if you want to keep your gift. If not, we go back down this mountain and it’ll be as though I was never here.”

That does present an interesting twist. The gears in your mind turn a bit faster, thinking on what exactly this may mean for you.

You consider where you are in the present moment - the reason Boba is even here in the first place. You consider your duty to your people, and you consider the long life your father has ahead of him.

How much time you have before you'll need to take his place.

How little time you might have if someone else realizes what this mountain holds.

"You said this kyber puts out some sort of signature, one that others can pick up on."

Boba raises a brow, and you see that he catches on to what you're proposing.

You continue, because if you don't, you'll convince yourself the idea is foolish. "This Force-user could teach me to hide the signature, no?"

"I don't see why not," Boba replies. In his eyes you see a glimmer of humor, like he thinks he's got you wrapped around his little finger. The way you're talking, you're on the verge of agreeing to return with him. He's got it in stone - his negotiator, this girl who needs him so strongly.

You see through him, though. He's tough to read, but you're learning to look between the lines.

Boba Fett is a criminal. For your whole life, you've studied law and order, learning the diplomatic ways of other planets and societies. To go with him would be to align yourself with everything you should hate, everything you should fight against.

But you are, after all, more than just a meek princess. You're a leader, a role model, a strong woman and lover of your people. Are you willing to dispense with your morality in favor of this Force training? In favor of following this man who has stolen your heart like he stole his throne?

"Say I did go," you start, and he doesn't even bother to hide his small grin. "Say I go with you. What does that look like for me? I will not be reduced to some pleasure slave, hidden away in your palace."

Boba shakes his head. "You will be free, my dear. You and I will work together, for both of our benefits. When I need a kind, unrelenting negotiator, you will speak on my behalf. In return, I find your training."

It sounds too good to be true, especially considering the major aspect to your relationship he has not yet mentioned.

Your eyes finally flit down to his chest, broad and thick in a way you never knew you'd like so much. His arms and shoulders are equally as enticing, the knowledge of how strong he is only serving to make his body more attractive to you. He is scarred, long-healed gashes across his skin the echoes of unimaginable pain and fire. As your gaze drops lower, tracing the skin of his abdomen as it disappears into the waistband of his pants, you feel something tighten in your chest. In the space between your hips.

Seeing him like this is intimate, almost more so than that very first night, and he hasn't even touched you.

"And what else might I expect, traveling with you?" You ask it knowing he sees the way you're looking at him.

Boba hums, as though he's giving the question some thought. He pushes off from the stone wall he was leaned up against.

"You know where this will go, princess."

His hands drop down to hook into the front of his pants, fingers toying with the clasp there. Your eyes follow the movement, entranced. The tendons and muscles in his arms flex and ripple as he works his hands, movement capturing your eye like a mouse to bread.

"I do," you reply, "but I want you to tell me."

His gaze darkens at your words. You watch as he deftly unfastens his trousers and pushes them down, stepping out of them and towards you. He moves unhurriedly, but with clear purpose.

You feel like you're one of his bounties, caught in the crosshairs of his rifle. Trapped.

Excitement courses through your veins.

"The first place I'll fuck you will be the ship," Boba says as he walks forward into the water, his thick thighs flexing with each step. You're too caught up in watching him approach to think to respond.

"Before we even leave this planet, I'll have you screaming against the durasteel, begging for my cock."

Your brain goes a bit fuzzy at his words, at the force of the arousal that hits you. It's like the moment he starts speaking to you like this, all higher function in your mind shuts off, full only of the images he conjures with his voice.

Boba's getting closer, and before you know it, he's within arm's reach.

All at once his hands are on you, rucking up your top to search out your bare skin, warm under the water. You reach up and put your hands on his shoulders, savoring the heat of his skin on your own.

"Once we get to Tatooine," he continues, pressing his lips close to your ear, voice like honey flowing over you, "I'll get you the most expensive dresses credits can buy, and we'll go to the clubs and cantinas and everyone there will want what's mine."

Your grip tightens, nails digging into his flesh. Boba finally pushes your top all the way up and off. He absentmindedly tosses it behind him, landing with a wet smack against the stone floor of the cave. His palms find your breasts and he squeezes them, kneading, flicking his thumbs over your nipples.

The feeling of it, like sparks shooting through your chest, makes you gasp, light and breathy.

"You'll sit on my lap at the sabacc table, and all those filthy criminals will know exactly how much you love getting fucked."

Boba runs a hand down your side, the other still toying with your breast, and you watch his face as he realizes you're no longer wearing your panties.

His jaw clenches as his fingers curl into the meat of your hip. He dips his head down so his nose brushes against yours, his breath cool compared to the heat of the water.

"You're a temptress, little one."

You can't help the small smile that floats across your lips. "What was that about how much I love getting fucked?”

He hums, dark and deep, the sound nearly a growl with the way it reverberates around you. Boba slides his hands down beneath your ass, and then he's hauling you up and pressing you against the wall to your left. You squeal at the sudden movement, legs locking around his waist and hands gripping his shoulders even tighter to keep from slipping away.

You feel the heat of a cloth-covered bulge against your burning, most sensitive skin. The sudden pressure of it makes you gasp, smiling, breathing in the air he's just exhaled with how close your mouths are.

Boba holds you with such ease. It's as though you're floating, featherlight in his arms.

"Watch it," he mutters, leaning in to graze his lips against the shell of your ear, the broad plane of his chest covering your own.

"Or what?"

It’s clear that Boba is more turned on than annoyed by your teasing, despite his words. He adjusts his grip so his broad palms fit even tighter around your hips, pressing his erection solidly into your bare core once again, rolling his hips wickedly. The water enhances everything - the throbbing in your cunt is amplified tenfold and you can hardly contain yourself.

His words only serve to drive you madder, lips and teeth pressed against your neck.

“Or I’ll make sure every last man in that village sees the limp in your walk before I take you away,” he growls.

You moan at the thought of it, at the thought of walking past your friends and fellow townspeople in such a state. The things they'd say - the whispers - would never get back to you, for you know they respect you too much, but oh, would they talk.

Boba shifts, reaching down to finally free his cock from his underwear. Almost immediately, you feel the hot length of it pressed up against your pussy.

“Yeah,” he mutters, moving his hips and torturing you with the drag of his dick. “They’ll all see how well I’ve fucked you - how good their little princess takes a bounty hunter’s cock.”

Your eyes slip closed as you cry out, shaking with how much you need him. “Please, Boba!”

His shoulder muscles ripple under your palms and he groans. "I need to get you ready for me, little one --"

"No," you cut him off, voice little more than a whine, pulling him closer as best you can in your desperate state. "I can take it. Right now, I need it, I need you, Boba--"

With a grunt, Boba lines himself up, hands like durasteel on your hips as he pulls you close in tandem with the thrust of his cock. You moan, high-pitched and uninhibited, when you feel his hot member pierce your cunt. Your folds part easily for him, the head sliding into your pussy like it was built just for this.

Your legs tighten around Boba's waist as he starts fucking you, dirty promises and filthy imaginings rolling off his tongue. His voice strains with each thrust, and it all just feels so divine.

You think you could live like this, if he'd let you. Get addicted to the way his cock moves inside you and never spend another day without it.

"That's it," he mutters, teeth bearing down on your neck, surely leaving marks that'll turn black and blue in a day or so. On a particularly sharp thrust, you're jolted back, legs trembling in his hold.

"Maker, Boba." You open your eyes and see the way he's looking at you, teeth slightly bared and brows furrowed. He looks vicious as he uses you.

"You're so tight, princess. My fat cock fits in your little cunt so well," he grits out, your body still jostling with each thrust. Your eyes are fixated on his face, on his mouth, watching the words spill out from behind his lips.

For a moment, your brain provides a sliver of sass, making your eyes sparkle with mirth, even as your tits bounce against Boba's bare chest.

"You fuck pretty good for an old man."

Boba growls, a deep chuckle combined with a moan sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. His thrusts slow and he leans back, taking in the way your body is wrapped around him. Your hands fall to your breasts, pressing them together and flicking your thumbs over your nipples.

He snaps his hips up, hard, slamming his cock into you and forcing a whine from your throat. You can feel his balls smack your ass, even under the water. "You're desperate for it, princess. Desperate for this old man to fuck you like you need."

He rolls his hips again, rhythm slow and steady and deep. The air around you seems to rock in tandem with him.

"Yeah, you'll love Tatooine," he drawls, exhaling through his nose. "I could take this sweet pussy right on the throne and no one would say a thing. They'll all watch their King fuck a woman young enough to be his daughter."

You moan loudly, silken walls clenching and fluttering around his cock as it pounds into you.

He hums. "You like that, huh, little one?"

Despite yourself, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut again. Boba's left hand comes up to grip your chin, fingers like iron against your jaw. His thrusts get shallower, lazy, like he's become distracted from the fact that he's currently balls-deep inside you.

Your hands find his chest, getting your fill of his searing hot skin against your own.

"Open," he demands, and you do, tongue resting on your bottom lip.

Boba hesitates for a moment, and in that split second, the world around you is still once again. "This mouth," he murmurs, "is just begging to be filled, isn't it."

The words make you clench around him, an involuntary reaction to the thought of putting his cock in your mouth, of laving it with attention and worshipping it like it deserves.

Your eyes are still closed, so you can't see as he closes his mouth and works his jaw for a moment, gathering saliva on his tongue. You only feel the jarring sensation of spit landing in the back of your throat, filthy and debasing.

"Swallow it, little girl."

Eyes fluttering open, you do as you're told, and you know you'd do it a million more times if it means he'll look at you like he is right now, eyes dark as space itself.

"Thank you, my king."

You don't know what compels you to say it, other than the fact that it just feels right. Boba smiles, a sly thing that makes his dark eyes sparkle with something dangerous, and he begins fucking you again.

His hand slips down to your throat. Not tight, just resting there, a reminder.

Boba Fett licks his lips before speaking, the steam from the water around you making his face look almost eerie in the glow of the kyber. "You take me so well, my queen."

He picks up the pace again, and soon he's jackhammering into you with the same fervor as before. Your mind melts into a puddle inside your skull, only able to focus on the push-pull within you and the building crescendo that accompanies it. Boba's fingers tighten ever so slightly on your neck, and you respond in kind, curling your nails into the meat of his pecs like claws.

The fire within you is licking up your legs, winding through your ribs, and you gasp when it feels so close it's unbearable.

"Boba, I'm gonna - I need --"

He cuts you off with two simple words: "Touch yourself."

And so you do, the fingers of your dominant hand flying down to rub your clit and draw your orgasm to its inevitable peak. You press the pads of your middle and ring fingers to the bundle of nerves and frantically work to bring yourself off.

The sparks that shoot through you at the feeling of your own touch, combined with Boba's continued movements within you, force you up and over the edge of your climax in rapid succession. You cry out, the sound of it echoing far above your heads.

There must be something about the water, because the sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. Your whole body seizes, straining against the hand that's wrapped like durasteel around your neck, and a tingling sensation shoots down your arms and legs to your toes. You've heard tales of the afterlife, of nirvana, of pure euphoria, and you think this must be it, because you can hardly comprehend the full-body pleasure that engulfs and drowns you.

When it passes, you go limp in his arms, head draped against his shoulder.

Boba finishes not long after, spilling into you. His spend is hot where it fills you, hotter than the water, and it's like an ancient lock has been fastened shut inside your cunt.

Your king carries you back to the dry stone floor. He lays you down and kisses you softly, heatedly, passionately. He kisses you as a lover should, like you're consummating a bond. A contract, signed in the twist of his tongue against yours.

The two of you do not leave that cave for a long while, taking the time to explore one another's bodies in every way you can dream up. You finally taste his cock, swallow his cum and find you love the taste, and Boba likewise licks and eats your pussy like he's a man starved.

When it's time to depart, you do so a changed woman. Boba Fett's body has left its touchmark on your soul. Now that you know true pleasure, the gratifying gift of submission to him, you couldn't imagine not going with him for at least some time. Leaving with him has become a need more than a want. You'll return someday, to rule and guide your people as you should, but not before you explore life with Boba for a while.

He promises so much, so many experiences and pleasures and truths. You can't let those promises go unfulfilled.

When Din enters the throne room, he surveys the space, as he always does when he walks through a doorway. Little is out of place.

Boba is seated upon the throne, conversing with a supplier, helmet betraying exactly as much emotion as Din's own does. From the grip Fett has on the arm of the throne, however, it's clear the negotiations aren't going to turn out well for the snivelling merchant.

Shand is leaning against a wall, jar of spotchka clutched in one hand, gesticulating with the other. She's smiling, which is rare for her, as she speaks in a tone Din can't quite hear.

Next to her is a girl Din's never seen in the palace before. She's dressed rather strangely - a thick cloak with fur trim over dark clothes, pants tucked into leather boots and some sort of shirt-tunic on her torso.

Certainly not suitable for the weather on Tatooine. In fact, Din would wager that's the clothing of someone from a snow planet.

He walks further into the room and catches the attention of Fennec and her friend. They both look at him; Fennec only for a second, but her companion's gaze lingers. Din thinks he sees something akin to curiosity - perhaps surprise - in her eyes, but it's hard to tell.

Her head turns to look directly at Boba, eyebrows raised. The other bounty hunter dips his head in acknowledgement.

Din stops in his tracks, unsure of the dynamic he's just walked into.

"You're excused," Boba barks, waving a hand at the supplier, who yelps and scurries out of the room.

He then rises from his seat and makes his way down to where Din's standing. He removes his helmet - an action that still makes Din tense up, even with everything that's happened - and tucks it under an arm. He sticks his other hand out and Din shakes it, nodding once.

"It went well, I assume?" Boba's almost smiling, which is a rare sight to see on his usually sullen visage.

Din nods again. "Yes. He's doing… he's doing great."

If he took his own helmet off, Din's smile would be clear as day.

Boba claps his hand against Din's shoulder, an amicable gesture that Din must remind himself is a sign of friendship, not posturing. Old habits die hard.

"I've got someone I'd like you to meet, Djarin," Boba says, turning towards the women who stand, watching them, not too far away.

They walk over. Fennec takes a sip of her spotchka, while the girl glances between him and Boba. For the life of him, he can't figure out where she might have come from, or what her role will be here. She's pretty, that much he will readily admit. Her eyes are bright and alert in a way that tells him she sees more than she lets on, and her stance is simultaneously relaxed and braced for conflict. He knows it well - it's as easy as beskar to spot.

She holds herself like a warrior.

She’s also young - certainly the youngest in the room.

Boba's voice pulls Din out of his thoughts. "This is our newest crew member. She'll be helping us with our… over-the-table dealings, in exchange for training."

Confused, Din tilts his head. "Training? What kind of training?"

"That's where I'd hoped you'd be able to help," Boba tells him. The girl looks from Fett to him, eyes focused right on his own through the visor.

"I need guidance in the Force. Boba said you have connections to people who could help me master my Force sensitivity."

Well, he supposes that's at least somewhat true. Ahsoka may be willing, but given how it went with Grogu, he wouldn't count on her.

"I'll see what I can do," he responds. As is his habit, he props his hand on his belt, hip jutting out just so.

The girl's eyes flicker down and back up again.

Boba clears his throat. "In the meantime, the princess and I have other matters to attend to."

He reaches out to her, and at first Din thinks he's going to grasp her shoulder in his firm grip like he tends to do with all of his close acquaintances.

Din quickly sees that this girl is much more than just a close acquaintance.

Boba’s hand finds its place on her neck, thumb tucked under her jaw and fingers wrapped around the base of her skull, tangled in her loose hair. As if they’ve done it a million times before, they lean towards one another. The girl’s eyes flutter closed, a soft smile on her face, while Boba’s study her unabashedly.

Their lips connect, heatedly, and Din knows his surprise shows in his movements. He glances over to Fennec, who just smirks at him.

The couple in front of him kiss one another completely without shame. Boba’s grip tightens to the point it looks almost painful, but the girl simply presses closer in response. She brings a hand up to rest on his chestplate, the only bare skin visible besides her face and neck.

Despite how warm his cheeks feel, Din can’t look away. He feels a rush of blood out of his head at the sight in front of him.

Boba and his lover kiss for another long moment before pulling away. He slides his hand to her hip, casually pulling her along as if he’d simply taken her by the hand.

She falls into step beside him, looking more comfortable than Din’s ever seen anyone next to Boba Fett. As they walk away, the girl glances back at Din, her observant gaze piercing right through him. Right through the beskar of his helmet.

And then she turns back, content in the embrace of the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fucks #mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #boba fett x female reader #no y/n #female reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

Study Date

Requested by anonymous: “Hermione Granger x reader where reader is best friends with Luna and has a crush on Hermione. She never acts on those feelings because Hermione called Luna Looney and seems to dislike her and in the end maybe Luna sets them up. “

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 2.3k+

A/N - Today i offer you yet another story about hermione granger. Tomorrow? Who knows.

Thank you to @kileyrose-2003 for checking it over.

Hermione Granger was a complete enigma but that was probably due to the fact there was only so much you could learn through limited interactions. If there was one thing you knew about her, it was that she was a spectacular witch with a thirst for knowledge. She had been placed in Gryffindor all those years ago but she truly could have excelled as a Ravenclaw; if that had been the case perhaps the two of you would be closer. Things would have been entirely different but alas you were left to admire from afar since that very first year when you noticed her across the Great Hall. You didn't even have any classes together until you started taking electives. However, as hard as you tried Hermione Granger seemed to avoid you at all costs. You had invited her to hang out many times but she always declined. Maybe Ron and Harry were the limits of her social perimeters?

A hand sways before your eyes drawing you back to reality. "So easily distracted."

Luna Lovegood had such a melodic, soft voice that it was weirdly hard to ignore. Then again everything about the girl could be considered peculiar which was something you greatly admired. She didn't care what anyone thought of her and yet you cared so desperately what they thought of you. "Sorry," You hum, folding the paper in your hands. "I just... do you think there is something wrong with me?"

"No more than anyone else,"

"Maybe that's why she doesn't like me," You let out a defeated sigh before placing the origami tiger you had been working on down on the table.

"Who?"

From the corner of your eyes, you spot a familiar brunette wander into the Great Hall. A few books wedged under her arm. "Can you just give me a sec-"

Without giving Luna a chance to respond, you leap to your feet and scramble along the length of the entire table and then around to catch Hermione.

"Wait," You place your hand against her shoulder, startling her just a little. "Hermione,"

She spins on her heel; her frown morphing into that of a welcoming smile. At least she seemed happy to see you. "Yes?"

"I..." you trail off as a wave of heat washes over you. The Gryffindor always managed to make you feel anxious. It wasn't a bad thing; you knew it was because you liked her but with her already taking every opportunity to ignore you it didn't exactly help the situation. "I was wondering if you uh, wanted to play with us? Me and Luna, I mean."

It sounded rather childish slipping from your lips but Hermione's brow quirked up. "What are you playing?"

"We're having a race," Your expression brightens at her interest, signalling back to the Ravenclaw table where Luna now sat alone. "We both made something out of paper and we’re gonna enchant them so they run the racecourse we made." To the left of Luna was a makeshift racetrack made of books, cups and even your spare inks and quills. It was only small so it'd be a quick race before lunch began. "If I win Luna promised to make my bed every day for a week. If she wins she gets my last bag of Fizzing Whizzbees."

"Shouldn't you be studying during study hall?" Seems Miss Granger was all work and no play. You simply shrug, standing a little taller.

"I'm smart enough already," You declare proudly, a cocky smirk on full display. "And besides it’s nearly lunchtime so we were long overdue a break."

You watch her eyes drift from yours over to where Luna was sat and back. "You two are quite the pair."

"Me and Luna?" As if she could sense you talking about her, Luna waves at the two of you. "She's like my best friend."

"You don't find her a little... strange to be around?" Hermione muses. "A little... loony perhaps? Half the school thinks she's lost her mind."

She was right in saying that a lot of your fellow students judged Luna harshly for being a little more outside the box but you never expected Hermione to be one of them. "I think... she's awesome and I'm glad she's my friend. You shouldn't judge her so harshly when you don't even know her."

You may have invited her to join you but that offer was no longer on the table as you marched back to the Ravenclaw table without another word. Slumping down in your seat exasperated sigh. "Are you okay?"

Plastering on a smile, you give her a firm nod. "Shall we start?"

"What happened over there? You seemed rather excited before."

"Nothing," Focusing on the origami, you pick up your wand.

"You shouldn't bottle things up," Luna expresses softly, picking up her wand too. "Might make your head explode."

"Does it ever bother you that people call you crazy?" You wonder.

"Not really," her head shakes. "It's all in good fun."

You never understood if Luna's belief in people was misguided or just for show. If the roles were reversed you'd certainly not enjoy having people make fun of you. "But what if it's not?"

"Then it's out of my control," Luna flashes a smile. "Shall we start."

With a nod of your head and wands at the ready, Luna starts the countdown. "3... 2..." your grip tightens around your wand. "1.... Go"

With a flick of your wrist, the paper tiger springs to life but it takes a few nudges from the end of your wand to get it moving. When you saw Luna's monstrosity trailing behind, you knew you had this race in the bag.

"I don't think Hermione likes you very much," you don't know why you decided to tell her that, it seemed only cruel in the moment. "I don't think she likes me much either as hard as I try,"

"Maybe you should stop trying," Luna's focus was exclusively on the race as you watch her. Maybe you should stop trying... that was easier for her to say because she didn't find herself with butterflies every time she saw the girl. Searching the Gryffindor table, you find Hermione sitting alone; scribbling away on a piece of parchment. "Staring can be considered quite rude, y'know?"

Glancing back at the race, you find both racers have crossed the finish line and were now laying completely still against the table. Students were beginning to pile into the hall for lunch so it was time to clean up a little. "Sometimes it's hard not to," Reaching over the table you grab your quill. "She's just interesting- who won by the way?"

"It was you," Did you win or was she just being nice? It didn't matter now anyway so you may as well take the win.

You haven't spoken to Hermione since that day she had the audacity to question your friendship with Luna. You didn't necessarily think she had meant what she said in a bad way but it just hadn't sat right with you. It also helped that the only class you shared was Defence Against the Dark Arts so she wasn't all that hard to avoid. The page of your textbook flips over with a gust of wind as you lounge against the stone archways in the quiet courtyard. When you spot Harry, Ron and Hermione, you bury your face behind your book in hopes of not drawing any attention. If you didn't acknowledge she was there maybe you wouldn't long to run over.

"Hey," Slowly lowering the book, you spy the girl in herself looking perkier than usual. Seemingly having abandoned her friends just to come and speak to you.

"Hello," you reply quietly, keeping your eyes on the page. It was explaining how to create the Forgetfulness Potion; a beginner level potion and not at all hard to make.

"Luna said you'd be out here," You glance up at the mention of your friend's name. Why had she been talking to Luna? "And that you may require a study partner,"

Strange. She had never wanted to study with you before. "You don't have somewhere else you'd rather be?"

Hermione shakes her head. "Luna can be quite convincing but if you'd rather study alone, I can go."

"No," the reply comes a little too quickly. "I mean, uh... you can stay. I'd really like the company."

"Great, Ron and Harry are rather distracting when it comes to studying," She plops herself down at the other end of the archway by the end of your feet. Your knees were now pulled a little closer to your chest, propping up your potions book. "I can quiz you if you want?"

"Can I ask you something?" You pose the question as you sit up a little straighter trying to give her more room; handing over the book in the process.

"Of course," Taking the boom, Hermione's hand brushes over the cover but she opens it and begins flickering through the pages. She had the same textbook so you're not exactly sure what she expects to find.

"Why are you here?" The rustling of pages comes to an abrupt stop as her eyes settle on yours but only for a moment.

"To study?"

"You've never been interested in me before," you reply bluntly. "I don't see what's changed now? What exactly did Luna say?"

"Just that you like me," Wide eyes of surprise, your stomach sinks. She was joking right? She had to be. "And that you think I don't like you which is perplexing. So she told me where you usually go to study and that you'd very much appreciate my company."

"I'm gonna kill her," you growl under your breath, sinking down against the stone. How you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole right now.

"I also thought it was only right that I apologise for the other day," you can't even bring yourself to reply; too scared you'll somehow embarrass yourself further. "I shouldn't have spoken about Luna that way- I also apologised to her. Are you ready?"

Anything to help forget about what Luna had purposely done, you nod your head a little. Setting this whole thing up was a sweet enough idea but she didn't have to straight-up tell Hermione that you liked her. Hopefully, you could just play it off as friends. A silence settled between the two of you as Hermione searches through your book. "I'm gonna say a potion and you just have to list the ingredients, simple enough?" You can feel her eyes on you but can't bring yourself to look back. "You alright?"

"Mhmm,"

"Are you sure?" She questions. "I didn't mean to embarrass you or anything. I'm sure Luna had the best of intentions."

"Just say a potion," It's even more awkward when she brings it up the fact Luna told her. "Please,"

"Okay, how about... Draught of Living Death?"

"Uh..." for a second your mind seems completely blank. Taking a deep breath you settle your nerves a little. "Standard potioning water, Powdered Root of Asphodel..." your brow furrows in concentration. "Infusion of... Wormwood? Valerian root, A Sopophorous bean and-"

"Sloth brain," Hermione finishes. "Good job. Okay, let's try..." The pages flutter between her fingers for a moment. "Exstimulo Potion."

Exstimulo potion. You rake your brain for any memory of it; If you remember correctly it was a potion used to boost magical energy. It was a beginning level potion so it won't be too complicated to make. "Re'em blood... Granian hair, Snowdrop maybe, and like... uh... Bitter root?"

"For an extra point, what colour should it be?"

That you knew almost instantly. "sky blue."

With each passing question, your confidence grew around the same speed as Hermione's smile did. You liked to think that your extensive knowledge of potions was impressive but in all honesty, some wouldn't see it that way. "You are really good at this,"

"I enjoy potions. They value knowledge over skill more than some of the other classes- that's not to say potion-making doesn't require skill and vice-versa. " You explain, moving so your legs now dangle over the edge similar to how Hermione was sitting. "It's probably my best class but I like the study of ancient runes too. What about you? I imagine you're brilliant no matter the class."

"I wouldn't go that far," Her gentle laugh fills your ears, filling you with such an innocent sense of glee. "I like most of my classes though, I would take more if I could."

"Of course you would," You giggle to yourself. "I heard in the past you used a time-turner just to attend more classes."

"Guilty," She offers you a smile. You'd done research on time turners, they were interesting little devices but it took a lot of guts to use one. "It was worth it."

"It's a pretty smart way to use one," No surprise considering who you're talking to.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Anything." Hermione fiddles with the corner of the page she has settled on.

"When Luna said you like me, I'm guessing she meant..."

The fire in your cheeks spread hot and fast which had the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. She really had to bring it up again? She couldn't have just ignored it and moved on? "...yeah." You admit quietly. Handing your textbook back, Hermione slips down onto her feet

"So this was her way of setting us up... hmm," Spinning on her heel, she looks to the sky. The sun was beginning to set so it was illuminated by an orange glow. "For a girl so imaginative I would have expected something a little more than a study date."

"I like studying," She sharply turns back to you.

"As do I," She offers a gentle smile. "But I think we should do something a little more traditional for a first date, don't you?"

"First date?"

"Only if you want to,"

"I... yeah. I'd love to."

#Hermione Granger x reader #hermione granger #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Hermione x reader

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justabstractthings · 4 years ago

Text

Wisteria | Shinso x Reader

Pairing: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m super late but here it my part for the Flowers bnharem server collab! Please don’t forget to check out everyone’s pieces because they are amazing and everyone worked really hard on them! I hope you enjoy every single one of them!

Wisteria signifies obsession, passionate love, longevity, and immortality.

The Wisteria Maiden: Fuji Musume (“Wisteria Maiden”) is a famous classical dance from Japan. The story begins in Otsu, a city famous for its painting. People would stroll along the streets admiring the artisans’ paintings. A painting of a wisteria maiden caught the eye of a male passerby. The Wisteria Maiden became infatuated with him. She became so infatuated that she came to life and stepped out of the painting. She wrote letters to her love; however, they go unanswered. Eventually, sadness and despair take over the heartbroken maiden and she returns to her painting.

Pebbles crunched under your feet as you trekked through the never-ending tunnel. Parents pulled their children along the path. Old and young couples strolled hand in hand. Most visitors had their phones out, taking pictures of themselves or the enchanting scenery. Nobody paid any mind to your meek form as you hugged your crossbody bag close to your heart.

Your eyes trailed up the sides of the tunnel until it reached the lavender and lilac hues that dangled and covered the entire structure. A deep breath introduced a sweet familiar scent as it wafts through the air. It provided a sense of calm through your body as you continued your journey through the fairy tale like surroundings.

With a smile on your face, you reached into your bag and pulled out your weapons of choice: a sketchbook and a pencil. When inspiration strikes, you are not one to back down from a challenge. Most people prefer to capture their inspiration with their phones, but it never compares to the brush of a pencil as you transfer the beauty of nature from reality to the sketchbook on your arm.

Even with the crowds of people walking along the path, this was where you were most at ease. Surrounded by the blossoming flowers as they dangled along the ceiling. Their white, lilac, and lavender colors promised tranquility as you continued to sketch a life-like portrait of their beauty.

Unfortunately, you were forced out of your reverie. A sharp jolt from your back caused you to drop your tools, your calm mind forced into a state of surprise and fear.

“Oh sorry,” a deep but weary voice caused you to turn, sketchbook forgotten for just a moment. He looked confident but unsure. His shoulders squared back and hands buried in his pockets. Caring but aloof eyes diverted away from your face. But what stuck out to you the most was his unruly hair. His deep purple locks stood out in contrast to the shades of lavender that surrounded him like a halo.

Another sight to capture.

Your heart hammered against your chest. Hands shaking as the need to sketch overpowered your initial surprise. Before you could reach for your fallen sketchbook, the boy leaned down and grabbed the book off the ground.

Anxiety washed over you like waves violently crashing against the shore at the thought of another person seeing the sketches you had hidden in your book. But he never gave a second glance as he promptly placed the book in your hands and silently continued his stroll.

It took you a second to jump back into reality. Without another thought, you quickly grabbed another pencil and furiously sketched the boy. Afraid that a few more seconds would cause you to forget his features. With each stroke of your pencil, it was like the boy never left your sight. Details ranged from his gravity-defying deep purple locks to the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes. Here he was. Brought to life against the soft surface of your paper. Immortalized through your art.

A soft breeze blew through the tunnel causing the flowers above your head to sway to and fro. Your eyes trailed toward the direction that the purple haired boy disappeared. The whispering wisterias softly promised against your ear. You would see the boy again. One day. But for now, you had your sketchbook nestled against your arm.

The next day, you found yourself sitting under the towering form of a wisteria tree. Its looming branches and hanging flowered vines created a lavender curtain between the enchanting tranquility and the never ending harsh reality of the world.

Last night, your sketches ranged from the wisterias to the mysterious boy. Your wrist ached, evidence of the multiple completed sketches contained in your book. Shades of purple occupied your mind. Usually, your mind would stop racing after a few sketches throughout the day. Since the day before, your thoughts never diverted away from the purple-haired boy.

You flipped through your book until you found another sketch of the mysterious boy. It was a bit difficult but you tried to imagine what he would look like with a side profile. His purple eyes stared off into the distance with wisterias blowing in the background. You captured the inquisitive look in his aloof eyes. You ripped the page off the book and flipped it towards the back blank page. You scribbled a few words.

Enigma. An uncaring presence on the outside, but with a thoughtful and kind heart. An enigma.

As an artist, you understood the importance of being able to capture the very essence of your piece even with just a short amount of time to study it. Under your eyes, they become an open book. However, he was a puzzle. And you spent all night piecing him together to understand how his outside appearance contraindicated his inner thoughts.

But it would do you no good to dwell on him further. Today was another day of enjoying the wisterias blooming around you. You flipped to a new page on your sketchpad as you studied the tree’s hanging flowers above your head. They waved at you as you began to sketch their beauty.

“That’s really good.”

Your head shot up. You clutched your sketchbook close to your chest as you stared into the same tired and weary eyes from the day before. The purple-haired boy was crouched less than a foot away from you. His eyes trailed from the clutched sketchbook to your wide-eyed face.

“Sorry I scared you.” His baritone voice surrounded you like a warm blanket during the chilly winter. His small frown sent a pang through your heart. A deep need to see him smile overcame your previous alarm.

“It’s ok,” you murmured as you clutched the sketchbook tighter against your chest.

“Can I take a look?”

Before you could even comprehend your next actions, you let out a small squeak, grabbed your belongings, and hurried away. Small droplets of water streamed down your face as the fear of revealing yourself became quite apparent.

When you found a new wisteria tree, you leaned against its strong trunk. Your heart felt like it would burst out of your chest at any moment. Your chest tightened as you tried to catch your breath. You gulped down the fear that shook your very core. Eyes burning as the last few tears threatened to release themselves.

You ruined your chance with the purple-haired boy.

Fear overpowered your desire.

You dropped down onto the floor as your shaky hands grabbed another pencil from your bag. When you opened a blank page on your sketchbook, your eyes stared into the white abyss of the paper. Your hand immediately stopped shaking as you began to sketch out the boy’s face once more. He was so close that you were able to find more features to include in your sketches. His dark circles were deeper than you first thought. A bit more muscular but still lean. When he asked a question, he titled his head slightly towards the right. Almost like a cat.

A light smile adorned your face as you looked into the unblinking dark purple eyes . You didn’t notice before, but he had white pupils. Enchanting just like the wisteria hanging above your head.

“One day,” you whispered as a light breeze flew through the air.

After a few minutes of rest, you decided that it was time to return home. As you flipped your sketchbook closed, you realized that one page was missing. The ripped page. You must have left it after running away. You quickly shoved all of your belongings into your bag as you hurried back.

When you returned to the wisteria tree, the boy and your paper were nowhere to be seen. You searched around the area and there was no trace. Dread covered you like a blanket as you began to imagine the worst kind of reaction if the boy found your sketch of him.

Would he think you were a stalker?

Would he ever speak to you again?

Was that the last time you would see him?

You gulped down your fears as you began the trek back home. Sadness washed over you at the thought of the mysterious purple haired boy. Another inspiration lost in the wind. But now it seemed like you were the cause of his absence.

Inspiration has never hit you this hard. Your heart raced everytime you sketched his feathers. It took all of your concentration to keep your hands from shaking as you brushed vibrant purple on the page. Finally, your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the finish piece. Your cheeks reddened under his unblinking gaze. He never said a word. Never judged you. Never left you.

You passed through the never ending tunnels once more. It was later in the day so there were less people enjoying the wisteria blossoms. It was quieter. You listened to the whistling breeze as it blew through the tunnel. You reached above your head to softly caress the dangling flowers.

They provided a calm presence to your aching heart. They would always be there. Forever and always.

When you turned the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was. The boy was still here, leaning against the cage wall that separated the tunnel from the endless greenery behind it. But what stuck out to you the most was the paper. That was currently in his hand. That he was currently studying.

You watched as he flipped the paper back and forth, going from the drawing to the words. A deep pang of fear pounds on your chest with each flip.

Then you saw it.

A smile.

You felt your cheeks reddened. Even though you’ve only met him twice, this was a rare sight to see. Every time you tried to sketch a smile on his face, it was tricky. It never looked right. Always looked out of place. It seemed that your creative mind could not even fathom what a smile would look like on his face.

That is until now.

It was small. Anybody else would have thought he just stopped frowning. But you could see a small lift up the corners of his mouth, a crinkle on his nose, and a twinkle in his dark purple eyes. His face looked more relaxed. Still tired, but more serene.

This was the last piece of your puzzle. Everything made perfect sense. Maybe he wasn’t much of an enigma as you first thought.

But just as fast as his smile appeared, it vanished. The purple haired boy folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket. He was gone once more.

You let out a deep sigh as you tried to control your fluttering heart. You pressed your hand to your face as you tried to hide your reddened cheeks and wide smile.

He smiled.

Your painting made him smile.

He liked your painting.

From that moment on, you vowed to yourself that you would see his smile once more.

Your initial fear of revealing your art disappeared. It was overpowered by your desire and passion to see the purple haired boy smile and enjoy your paintings. You rarely shared your works with others, afraid that they may judge you or deem your paintings hideous. But he changed that. Seeing him smile at your painting made you want to show him more and see his reactions.

Inspiration struck you once again.

The very next day, you found yourself sitting under the same wisteria tree. Your eyes focused on the sketchbook sitting on your lap as you drew the crowds of people walking along the gardens. A young girl pulling her mother towards the hanging wisterias and pointing eagerly at them. An elderly group of ladies slowly walking through the path and enjoying nature’s tranquility. A young couple strolling hand in hand as they smiled at one another.

As you were finishing up your outline, you felt a familiar presence standing above you. From the corner of your eyes, you saw him take a seat to your left as he silently waited for you to finish. You smiled as you studied the page. All it needed as a splash of color, but that could wait.

You looked up from your lap and gave him a small smile.

The boy visibly gulped and looked away from your face, the familiar deep frown adorning his face. “Sorry about yesterday and the day before.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled as you reflexively hugged your sketchbook against your chest. The need to run enveloped your whole body, but you forced yourself to sit and stay. You didn’t want to ruin another chance with him.

He let out a grunt and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it towards you. “I think this is yours. I found it after you left.”

Your eyes blinked owlishly as you stared at the piece of paper. Your mind immediately thought back to his smile from yesterday. You shook your head. “Keep it.”

He nodded and shoved the paper back into his pocket. “It’s really good.” You look up at him in confusion. He coughed into his fist. “Your painting. It’s really good.”

You smiled down at your lap as you slowly released your constrictive hold on your sketchbook. “Do you, um, do you want to see?” With shaky hands, you revealed your latest sketch. However, you immediately regretted your decision. You bit your lip as you eyes trailed over the hideous mistakes that marred the paper. An awkward stance. An ugly smudge. An unfinished piece. But it was too late. Your sketchpad was already in his hands. You prepared yourself for the negative comments you knew would come your way.

“You’re really talented.” Your eyes widened in disbelief as you looked at the purple haired boy. While he appeared to give off an aloof presence, his enchanting eyes held a different meaning. What an enigma.

You smiled at him and quietly thanked him as you took your sketchpad back. You flipped to another page and ripped out your finished painting of the wisteria tunnel. He raised a brow as he watched you scribble something on the back of the paper. You folded the piece of paper and shoved it into his hand.

By the time he opened the paper, you had your sketchpad nestled in your arm and bag slung on your shoulders. It was time to go.

“Wait!” You turned back around and felt your heart skip a beat. There it was again. His smile. The wind blew a light breeze that caused the hanging wisterias to wave back and forth around both of you. But your senses were solely focused on his smile and that way it made your heart flutter once again. “Shinso. Shinso Hitoshi.”

You smiled back at him and made your way back into the garden. A silent promise was made under the hanging wisteria vines. A promise to see each other once again.

#shinso hitoshi #shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinso fluff #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #flower collab #wisteria #bnha server collab #my writing #just abstract things

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stuntgirlatthevampiremansion · 4 years ago

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To the Rhythm of the Ocean

Pairing: Jake Kiszka/reader

word count: 2,226

warnings: first person POV, the reader is mentioned to be an artist and bisexual but it is not important to the plot. Other than that its just a fluffy day at the beach. 😊

A/n: at last, I finally wrote a fic. It is extremely self-indulgent and was inspired by some anons that @safari-karrot got that I definitely did NOT send ;). I also want to thank Kate for being my beta! I worked pretty hard on it and im proud of it. Hope you enjoy!

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Walking into the elevator of my apartment complex, I was able to let my shoulders relax and my guard down for the first time all day. The day at the studio was intense today, and for all the wrong reasons. No matter how much I tried, I wasn’t able to create anything, as if all of the motivation and drive to do my work had burned out. I was burnt out. I was lucky enough to score an apartment next door to a pair of twins, Jake and Josh, who quickly became good friends. And even more fortunate, they had come back home this week from recording with their band, which meant I could spend my afternoon with them instead of alone in my own apartment.

I entered my house and set my bags and work down on the dining table. It was impossible to make out where the table was under pile of unfinished sketches and work plans, but that was a tomorrow problem. I put on the kettle to make some tea and shot Jake a text asking if I could come over.

Jake... in the last couple of years that i have known the twins, the have become an indispensable part of my life. We take turns cooking for the three of us and hosting movie nights, an even go do laundry together. Having them away for so long felt like a hole had been carved out of my soul, and it also made my harboring crush on Jake ache deeper and deeper. He was unlike anyone I had ever met, we understood each other in a way I never thought I would have with anyone, yet he was still an enigma. He was insanely talented and driven, and he was smart. And kind. And funny. And extremely easy on the eyes. I would never tell him this though, his friendship is all I can get, and I’ll learn to live with that.

His text came back telling me that his door was open. I finished and drank my tea, washed my face, changed into more comfortable clothes, and made my way next door.

When I came into the twins’s apartment Jake was sitting on the sofa playing his guitar, a small notebook sat on his lap. At my entrance, he sent a smile my way, but continued playing.

“Where is Josh?”

“He’s out filming. Why, did you need him?”

“No, just wonderin’.”

“You know, if you just want to hang out with me to try to get into my brother’s pants, you could have just told me. And I want no part of it. Here I was thinking we were best friends.” He teased and wiped fake tears from his eyes, but his smile said that he was just messing. That did not, however, stop my nerves. Best friend.

“I do not want to get into your brother’s pants, Jake. They wouldn’t fit me.” I took of my boots and plopped on the couch next to him. “I’m your best friend?! What about Josh, Danny and Sam?”

“That’s different, they’re my brothers.”

“Hm... I guess you’re a fine friend too, one could even say the best one I’ve had.” Friend.

“And the best one you’ll ever have.” He set his guitar down to his other side, “how was the studio today? Any new paintings?“

I let out an exasperated sigh “I wish. I am incredible burned out, I can barely even pick up a pencil! I have gotten close to nothing done all week and Rachel keeps asking me out, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Rachel? What did you say?” If I didn’t know better I would’ve thought I saw pain flash across his face.

“I told her no, but that is besides the point. I’m just so out of it...”

“You do look like you need some adventure.”

“You could say that”

“You know what?” He got up from the couch and pulled me to stand with him. “I’ll give it to you. Go get dressed, I’ll get everything ready.”

“What? Where are we going?”

“If i tell you it wont be a surprise. Now go to your house and get ready.”

“Then what do I wear?”

He seemed to think about it for a while, then said “something comfortable, but tropical.”

“Jake, that tells me absolutely nothing—“

“You’ll figure it out. Now leave, and don’t come back unless you’re on party business.” It was futile to keep going so I just stuck my tongue back at him and walked out of the door and into my apartment.

I settled on wearing a short blue sundress, boots, and a pair of sunglasses. I walked back into his apartment to find Jake in the shortest shorts i have even seen him wear, an unbuttoned white shirt, and his signature combination of necklaces and a bucket hat. “Are those Sam’s?”

“No, I own shorts too.” He put down two boxes on the coffee table and looked me over once. “That is exactly what I meant! Now carry this to the car.” He handed me a box full of snacks and drinks and we made our way down to the car.

I rode shotgun. He still refused to tell where we were headed. No matter how much I pushed and tried to wear him down, he just said to wait and find out. We got busy talking and listening to music and I gave up asking. Instead, I admired the scenery passing around us, and I admired Jake, with the windows down, his hair wild in the wind, and rocking out to our playlist. He had the ability to make me happy by just taking me on a drive. He didn’t even have to try.

Eventually the buildings turned into trees, and the trees to palm trees, until finally we arrived at a clearing by the ocean. Jake parked the car, “We’re here!”

“You brought me to the beach!” He brought me to the beach! The ocean! The one place I loved most in the world. “I could marry you right now!” I threw my arms around him and jumped out of the car. My boots were off in a second and by the next my feet were already in the water. Jake did the same before joining me at the shore.

“So, was it a good surprise?” I could hear his smile without even looking at him. And he knew the answer before I even spoke.

“The best! Thank you, Jake. Really.”

We set on an easy pace through the shore, side by side. Each picking out seashells and skipping rocks on the water. The sun wasn’t unbearable, for it was afternoon. The sky was blue and almost cloudless, the only thing that altered it were the shapes of birds flying overhead. The sand was coarse and stuck to our feet, but it wasn’t burning. The sea... it was an array of the bluest blues one could imagine, all coexisting for our pleasure. Jake was glowing, and I must have been too, I was incandescently happy.

Back at the car, I set out our snacks and liquor while Jake put in some music. Halfway through our first meal and first bottle, Jake turned up the radio, and waited for my reaction.

“I love this song!”

“I know you do, thats why I put it.” He took our food and put it away on the roof of the car; and for the second time today, pulled me by the hand to stand. “let’s dance”

His touch sent electric currents up my back. Best friend. “this song isn’t danceable, Jake!”

“It is if we want it to be.” And he held my hand in his and dragged me towards the clearing. The breeze was calming, the sea was a splendid blue. The waves lapped at the shore, not strong enough to disrupt our song.

Turns out, the song was danceable after all; and so were all the others that came after it. We held each other while we took turns twirling and laughing, belting our lyrics and acting out the drama of the songs. Every lick of his fingers on my skin left a burning sensation, yet I couldn't get enough. If he knew what this was doing to me... If he knew I was drunk on him and falling on every shared glance, every smile, every touch.

The sun started its descend and our dancing got closer. He held his hands of my waist, my chest pressed against his, my hands on his shoulders as we swayed around our little ballroom of a clearing. My spine tingled, with every inhale, I got drunk in his scent of pine and peppermint.

We got lost in our dancing, and then he got lost in the horizon. The sky had started to turn all shades of orange and pink, the water glimmered upon our eyes like tiny mirrors. A pelican flew over us and dived into the water in search for dinner.

We had stopped moving, yet his hands remained placed at the small of my back, he looked at ease. My fingers twirled a strand of his hair, he didn’t mind.

He looked like he belonged in the landscape, to the oranges and pinks that tinted the sky, he belonged to nature.

And I belonged looking at him, within arms reach yet so unattainable. He would always be a mystery. There was always more to him than met the eye, and even after years of knowing him, I hadn’t deciphered him completely. And I didn’t intend to, he was just like that. And he wasn’t mine to understand like that.

If all I would get were stolen glances with the setting sun as out witness, I’d take it. Because right here, right now, the sight before me was one to behold. Jakes eyes were transfixed on the horizon, his mouth agape. The sun was finally hiding behind the waves, which mean our day was coming to an end. I tried not to think about it, I wouldn’t let the sun steal the light of this day from me. Ocean breeze ruffled his long hair, and as I saw the last light of day melt into his golden brown eyes, I knew that home wasn’t a place. Home is a person. And he was mine. But he would never know, for I doubted I’d be his.

I was thrown out of my daydream when he slightly pulled back and chuckled. “ So home is a person, huh?”

“I— “ I said that out loud. Shit shit shit. I just stared at him like a deer in the headlights. There was no way to dig myself out of this, so I remained silent. Though my hear was beating like a drum and I was certain that he could feel it due to how close he still held on. Best friends don’t say that.

There was a shit-eating grin on his face, one that said he certainly knew what was going through my head. Instead of taunting me further, he said the words I’d most longed fo hear.

“Then you are certainly mine”

Nothing could stop the smile that broke out across both of our faces at that. “And you mine”

Before he had time to reply, I grabbed his face and pulled his lips to mine. There was static in the air, his lips were incredibly soft and tasted of coffee and chocolate. His mouth moved with expertise against mine, he held me close. Closer. Closer even still, until there was no space left between us. My heart was pounding, he licked at my bottom lip asking for entrance, which I gave, and deepened the kiss. My hands held on to him tightly, as if he would disappear would I let go. He dipped me slightly and I swore I would fall on the sand if he hadn’t held me. The purple sky could’ve turned bright yellow and I would have paid no attention.

We pulled apart for air and the sun was completely gone.

“Jake, I—“

“I know, I feel it too. I have for a while.”

“I was so scared that you wouldn't. Ive felt this way for you for the longest time, I—”

“But I do!”

“But you do!”

He pecked my lips and whispered close to my ear “And if you want, we’ll make it official. Right now. You and me, and a million sunsets to come.”

“I’m yours for as long as you want me, Jake.”

“And I’m yours forever, y/n. Even when i’m far away.”

No words could describe what I felt. It’s as if my blood was replaced by honey and my ribcage contained the moon in all her love and glory. “I wish I could stay here forever, in this moment. With you, and round the world.”

“Check the trunk.” He smiled too wide and untangled his arms from mine.

I reluctantly let go of him and walked towards the car. He tossed me the keys and I popped the trunk open to see the second box Jake hadn’t let me look into. I opened it and found all sorts of camping gear: One tent, two sleeping bags, toiletries, even pajamas. Jake creeped up behind me and slid his arms around my waist. I turned around with an incredulous grin.

“Is that a tent?!”

“That is a tent, sweetheart.”

The end.

—- A/N: I literally CANNOT write unless its in 1st POV. This is 100% self-indulgent, and I have no idea how to write a kiss. Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

#Jake kiszka x reader #Jake kiszka/reader #Jake kiszka fic #Jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka #greta van fleet imagine #My writing

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bruh-haikyuu · 4 years ago

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REQUEST: Can you do a scenario where lev meets his s/o because she playing the piano or singing. Thank you. Love your writing.❤️

A/N: Thank you for requesting!! Ok Sasha storytime 😳😳 I used to be in a piano class since I was 5 (I quit, but I still play just for fun). And I joined this competition when I was 9 and got selected as one of the finalists - and I was so fucking surprised bc jesus, I play averagely for all I can say... I’m not the best, but I’m definitely not the worst. But there was this messed up system where more familiar faces/winners would definitely be chosen. And despite some other kids messing up a lot, the MCs removed me first bc “Sorry, no one knows you around here. You played better than some others, but maybe if you talked more, you could win. No one really wants a winner they’re not familiar with.” I couldn’t really say anything. I knew they were right. So I left with a Certificate of Participation and not even proof that the judges chose me as a finalist. THIS particular event got me so fucked up for so long that I tried to get myself sick/injured so that I wouldn’t have to go to my piano classes for 4 weeks straight. Eventually, I pulled out after my exam and started playing for myself, with the songs that I enjoy, whenever I want. So,,, fuck those MCs and my teacher, I’m a bad bitch you can’t kill me 😎 *plays Superbass by Nicki Minaj* FEM!READER BELOW

duende. | haiba lev

summary: in which lev has no sense of direction, but finds a lone sugarplum fairy along the way.

word count: 2438

warnings: none

(n.) the feeling of profound awe experienced when viewing a piece of art, watching a performance or listening to music that has deeply moved a person

It’s difficult to tell precisely... but Lev was definitely lost.

It wasn’t his fault the school had to be so large! What’s the point of having so much staircases when they weren’t going to lead to one conjoined hallway? It was like a maze, except Lev knew he wasn’t getting anywhere near a familiar area.

Crap! he cursed, pawing nervously at his empty pant pocket. I left my phone in the clubroom.

Light was already fading from the west-side window and he hadn’t come across anyone for the past 15 minutes. He recalled something Taketora said about a part of the school being dead deserted. Was this that place? He couldn’t tell.

He was getting impatient. If Lev didn’t hurry up and submit his additional worksheets to Sakamatsu-sensei before sundown, it was over. Goodbye to the club’s training camp. Goodbye to becoming the greatest ace Nekoma has ever had. Goodbye to everything he ever cared about.

Instinct taking over, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him and called out to the empty hallways for someone. Anyone. “Hello?! Sakamatsu-sensei...?!”

And when the vacant corridors replied back to him, Lev stilled, frozen.

“...Piano?”

Alisa had told him something about ghosts once. It was right after she’d gone out to watch some horror movie with her friends. Lev couldn’t remember exactly her words, but his sister had “slept” with her eyes open that night and he wondered if he should be taking her advice seriously.

But this didn’t sound like a ghost. Something that sounded so beautiful wouldn’t have any murderous intention behind it... right?

The melody reminded Lev of those old ballets his grandmother would play on TV when she visited. Every glissando a delicate spin by one of the performers, and every perky note a tiny leap. He could almost see them, those beautiful dancers, and Lev wondered—if he were to trace the music to its source, would he find a charming sugarplum fairy waiting for him?

His feet were already ahead of his thoughts. Lev couldn’t even tell where he was in the gallery of clubrooms. His senses of direction numbed, he relied on his ears and the sweet, sweet melody of the piano that was getting warmer. And warmer. Warmer.

Hot.

“Or...chestra Club?” he read out, the placard’s kanji wrapping itself around his head. Peering through the rectangular window of the doors, Lev zeroed in on the bareness of the room, save for the large grand piano settled in the center.

This is the place... right? he thought, retreating slowly. No one’s here.

Looking around for good measure, Lev scratched his head. Ah, geez, I don’t even know where I am anymore. He reconsidered throwing away his curiosity and return to his quest for the third year’s Teacher’s Room before his Biology teacher could scold him for his incompetence. But the little fluff of hair peeking out from behind the piano swayed him over and he didn’t even stop to think when he barged through the doors.

“Fairy!”

The girl who squeaked in shock really did convince Lev for a millisecond that she was a fairy. Straight out of that stage his TV had replayed for him. Tiny in stature, eyes shining like morning dewdrops and fingers pressed again the white keys, thin and graceful as if you were producing magic. All excluding the lack of a pair of shimmering wings sprouted on her back, you were an enigma in this barren universe.

“I’m human,” you said, voice like air. Breezing and pushing like wind.

Lev approached the center of the room, speculating if your glamour would disappear if he were to come closer. “T-That song you played. That was from a ballet, right?”

“It’s Tchaikovsky,” you replied bluntly, grinning. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before, can’t recall... We’re not too familiar, but you’re awfully rude for a first year, aren’t you? At least address me with the proper suffixes if you’re going to assume my species like that, Giant-kun.”

Speak for yourself! he thought, becoming more and more amused by this fanciful person. “I mean, you don’t look like a high school student either—”

You, completely ignoring him, returned your attention the piano, playing another song. This one faster, more fluid. Seeing your hands up-close, Lev eyed the muted details of your hand. A gentle blush on its skin, illuminated by the sunlight from the large window sitting ajar. His sister would kill to have a hint at your manicure routine.

So this is what a pianist’s hands looks like.

“Oh, I remember now,” hands coming to a rest on your skirt, the fairy girl turned to him, as elegant as ever. Now that the room was silent, there was a nervousness that lingered in the air. “You’re one of Kuroo’s boys, aren’t you?”

Hearing the familiar name of the no-nonsense captain of the Volleyball Club, Lev perked up, “You know Kuroo-san?”

“Of course, we’re in the same class after all.”

Same class. That would mean—no way!

“Y-you’re older than me?!”

You gave him a bright smile. Added to your fairy-like personage, Lev couldn’t help but to notice that this upperclassman of his was aware of his existence. There was actually a girl—who was awfully cute and just his type if he thought about it—in this godforsaken school who knew about Nekoma’s ‘ace’, Haiba Lev.

This was a dream, right? No, he shouldn’t be saying such a thing. In fact, Lev had gotten so engrossed in this reality that he didn’t realize how much he was staring into your beautiful face before you piped up again.

“Oh, it’s almost time for me to lock up. I forgot to ask, did you need anything when you came in here?”

Wait, what time is it?!

Lev let out a strangled noise between a dying boar and a tearful sob. Collapsing on the floor before his worried senpai, he squeezed the papers in his hand. Oh, it was over now. Over, over, over. Hello wretched make-up exam, goodbye glorious training camp...

Kneeling down next to him, you peeked at his wincing face. “H-hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Raising his head to look into your swirling eyes, Lev pursed his lips. Damn, you were totally going to think he was uncool after this. Grabbing you by the shoulders, he lowered his head in a bow.

“Senpai, could you show me the way to the third year’s teacher’s room? I’ve got an assignment to submit before 5 pm and I don’t know where I am! Please, senpai, I need to—”

No more words were exchanged when you grabbed Lev’s collosal hands in your delicate ones and dragged him through the door. You sped and hurtled down the corridors, bringing him along with you in this strange joyride. It was a funny sensation, similar to being towed around a park by a wild dog on a leash—except you weren’t a dog, but simply a shorter person whose size reminded him a bit of Yaku-san...

“S-Senpai—?!” he wheezed out, long legs pedalling in front of him. For someone nearly half his height, you were really fast; he wondered if you should’ve went for the Track and Field Club instead of the Orchestra Club.

Just as he had thought of letting go before you became a physical hazard to him, you skid to a halt in front of a door. Panting, you smiled up at him. “Here we are. Y-You’re not late, right?”

Eyes darting between the doors to the teacher’s office and you, the burning intention of a hug fuzzed out Lev’s brain—unfortunately, that would have to wait until later. Shoving the door open, he dashed inside the near-empty office and handed over his pile of crumpled assignments to the jaded Sakamatsu-sensei, face red.

Filing through the papers, the Biology teacher griped. “Well, all the assignments I asked for you to do are here... I’ll inform the Volleyball Club supervisor that you’ll be able to join the training camp this weekend.”

Saved. He was saved.

Exiting the office, he bowed before you—his fairy godmother—and murmured. “Thank you, senpai! You saved my life... ”

“Y-You’re welcome,” you said. “But I don’t think I went as far as “saving your life”, um... what was your name?”

“Haiba! Haiba Lev. Thank you so much!”

When you giggled, Lev heard the choirs of angels fill his head. God, he really wanted to hug you, stuff you in his pocket and bring you home with him to coo at and cuddle.

“The pleasure is mine, Haiba-kun. You’re an interesting person, you know? I’m glad we met.”

Lev really felt like he’d won the lottery. Was this finally his chance? Was he going to get a super cute, older girlfriend before his intolerable seniors? Unthinkable! Yet here he was, indulging in the soft smile of Nekoma’s resident sugarplum fairy, as if his entire gag reel of clumsy flukes never existed.

“Ah! I forgot to lock the doors to the clubroom!” you yelped. Even in panic, Lev thought you looked cute. “It was nice getting to know you, Haiba-kun. The main staircase is right over there, so you’ll be able to get back without getting lost. Be safe!”

Before he could offer his hand in accompanying you—at least being next to you for as long as possible—you had already sped off into an indistinct corner, the amber light of sundown fading with your shadow. And once again, Lev was alone.

Damn. He didn’t even ask for your name.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“You’re asking me... if I know a girl in my class called ‘Fairy-senpai’?”

The gaze in Lev’s green eyes were resolute. “Yes.”

Kuroo sighed, wiping off his sweat with a towel. Day by day, he swore, the first-years were getting more and more difficult to deal with. “Someone named Fairy who hangs around in that derelict part of the third floor sounds shady as hell. And what club did you say she was from?”

“Orchestra Club.”

“We have an Orchestra Club?”

Lev was getting nowhere with the rooster-headed captain; it was either that, or Kuroo was intentionally leading him to a dead-end out of sheer mischief. Anything could happen with him.

It had been a total of 18 hours since he’d last seen you, and Lev’s head had never felt any emptier. He’d startled his parents and Alisa enough by playing one of his grandmother’s ballet DVDs once he’d arrived home. But it wasn’t the same. Even the visual movements of the ballerinas and the skill of the ensemble didn’t amount to your solo rendition.

Yours was more natural, more sturdy. Something he could feel and see without opening his eyes or reaching out to it. Smitten with your performance, Lev slept that night, head filled with the thought of seeing you again, his little sugarplum fairy in the maze of doors and desolation. And maybe, he’d even get your number this time.

“She’s really good at the piano and has a twinkly smile. Fairy-senpai is a bit short too, really tiny,” Lev hesitated to continue, looking around for safety “... A bit like Yaku-san’s height.”

“What’s this I hear about my height? Hey, Lev! Why aren’t you practicing your digging receives?!”

Wincing at the stinging kick thrown at his back, Lev pouted miserably. Watching the poor behemoth being dragged away by the demonic upperclassman, an implausible feeling of pity struck through Kuroo, and he called out for the libero.

“A cute girl who looks like a fairy, can play the piano and is in the Orchestra Club? In our class?” Yaku repeated after Lev and Kuroo’s explanation. Tapping his chin in deep thought, he replied dubiously. “Doesn’t that sound a bit like L/N-san to you?”

“Ehh? L/N-chan can play the piano? I never knew that.”

Yaku clicked his tongue indignantly. “That’s because you barely talk to her. Maybe if you attended cleaning duty properly, you would’ve realized that when you’re paired up with her.”

The sound of his seniors bickering was already white noise to him. L/N. Repeating the syllables on his tongue, Lev tasted a sugary relish linger in his mouth. What a beautiful name. A fitting name, and suddenly, he already sensed that your first name would be just as wonderful.

“Though I’m impressed that you managed to get a full conversation out of L/N-san. Did you scare her or something?” Yaku snickered at Lev’s unappreciative scowl. “It’s just that L/N-san only says something when she’s required to. Otherwise... she’s really quiet. I’ve only heard her say ‘thank you’, ‘I’m sorry’, ‘yes’ and ‘no’ for the past three years, everything else we know about her comes from gossip.”

Lev’s chest swelled up and he smirked. “Maybe she likes younger guys like me.”

“I think she likes you because you’ve got nothing going on in your head at all,” the team captain scoffed attracting the giggles of his surrounding teammates. “You are right though, Lev. L/N-chan is a really cute person... I might get interested one of these days.”

“H-Huh?! C’mon, Kuroo-san! I’ve got dibs on her first!”

Nearly there, the captain thought. Lev’s ears were already burning red, a clear sign of his impulsive outburst. And when the timing was right, the Volleyball Club loved to use his recklessness for profit.

Crossing his arms in faux doubt, Kuroo shrugged. “I don’t know... I highly doubt you’ll attract her attention if you’re not even a regular on the team...”

Furrowing his brows deeply, Lev snatched a ball from the ground and stared deeply into the captain’s lacklustre eyes. “I-I’ll show you! I’ll become a regular on the team and the ace! That’s why I’m going to go practice right now, right, Yaku-san?!”

Even Yaku, completely amused and alarmed, had to do a double take. “R-Right... Do your best then.”

“I will!”

Chuckling at Lev’s shrinking back, Kuroo patted himself on the back for a job well done. Kenma, who had watched the entire nasty exchange go down, was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Weakly punching his childhood friend on his shoulder, he grumbled. “Great... Now that he’s fired up about some girl, he’ll keep asking me for more tosses. Kuroo, if I pass out because of your ‘encouragement’, you’re paying for my health insurance.”

Lev couldn’t hear the new conversation happening between the team’s setter and the captain, but that didn’t matter right now. He was going to practice, become better, then the best. Then ask you out, his sugarplum fairy in the third floor’s Orchestra Club clubroom. Lev felt invincible.

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