#the fact he purrs when he gets a head pat is canon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

igotathingforvampires · 3 years ago

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Aro Volturi N.S.F.W Alphabet

CANON DIVERGENT.

Info on Reader: Reader is an Elemental Gift user like Benjamin

CW/TW: a SLIGHT MENTION of assault but NO DETAIL AT ALL (as a SA survivor I do not use this lightly but I do like representation and not having the survivor be that cliche broken doll we end abusers here thank you)

How you two met:

You…..oh you. You’re standing with the Cullens wondering how the FUCK you got here.

Why am I here? What’s with this tiny little kid who can touch me and tell me things. Awe but she’s cute.

You’re just a bored Vampire who knows Carlisle and is Esme’s BFF.

You’re a nomad, and a badass one, see your gift is the Elements like Benjamin, it’s why Amun has his eye on you and is freaked out.

You and Benji are buddies now. Benjamin specializes in Earth and Water. You specialize in Fire and Air.

So now, here you are watching a bunch of cloaked baddies stomping towards you. But Carlisle and you have spoken frequently, the Volturi aren’t bad.

However, they are cautious.

And caution bred by fear is something you know to be wary of.

So you keep yourself a bit behind Carly. Waiting and watching.

The leader— that must be Aro you think, flings his hood back and suddenly you feel your entire chest clench up and a yank within yourself towards him. “Oh what the fuck.” You growl. Glancing UP at the Old Gods you couldn’t help but snap at them “ARE YOU ALL KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?! HIM?!”

The platinum haired man barked angrily, “who dares?!”

Aro is too busy glancing at his brother Marcus who’s smiling. He nods at Aro and huffs a bit of a sigh.

The raven haired man turns ever so slowly, casting his red gaze over the crowd and it falls to Carlisle. “Carly.”

“Aro?”

“Who is that behind you.” Aro can feel his chest hurt like a chain is being pulled.

Carlisle looks confused and glances behind him where you are shaking your head face palming—looking embarrassed.

Edward and Bella are utterly confused, before Edward listens to Aro’s and your thoughts and gets a look of disgust, “REALLY.” He barks.

You feel the rage of a thousand suns consume you. “I CAN’T PICK IT YA KNOW AND HEY WHADDAYA MEAN REALLY —ASSHOLE DON’T TALK ABOUT MY MATE LIKE THAT!”

The entire field is utterly still as you’re heaving, standing on your tip toes in front of the bronze haired vampire pointing at Edwards cringing face, “but it’s—“ he starts, you let out a growl and sparks fly off you.

Edward shuts up.

“I will light your ass on fire.” You whisper hiss.

The Volturi are just tilting their heads like WTF.

Marcus is trying not to laugh, Caius has just become stunned glancing between his brother and the woman across the battlefield.

Aro is getting GIDDY.

“And who is the girl.” He asks.

You turn, your hips swinging with attitude and your arms crossing as you scoff. “Psh, get a load of this Mother fucker,” you whisper to yourself glaring across the expanse of space. “HEY. I have a name.”

------

-----

His First Impression:

Of course my mate swears like a sailor.

Is Aro’s first thought.

His next thought is that you’re awful adorable. Awe so lithe and cute and— Much too … hm, much too adorable to be mine I would think how In the —a violent wind kicks up and flames burst out from your body enveloping your form as you take a few steps forward.

Ah there it is.

“You wanna ask me my name— darling.” You smile wide at him.

“Of course,” his purr is laced with annoyance, but he’s far too intrigued. “Who might you be?”

“I’m y/n. No last name, my parents were assholes.” You shrug. “So, we doing this trial or we figuring the whole—“ you wave your hand between the gaping maw of land between you two, “bond thing.”

Aro pauses, a twitch on his lips, “after the proceedings cara mia.”

“Ooo… love me a man that speaks Italian—” You smirk, raising a brow and cock your head to the side.

Aro makes a stifled choked off growl as his eyes go black— thank God he lost the ability to blush as arousal slammed into him like a freight train.

You’re obviously annoyed, and have as Caius mutters ‘more balls than a Christmas tree’ and you are ready for this trial to be over.

Frankly so is Aro he wants to drag you back to Volterra and bring you to heel.

Not that he thinks that’s going to happen.

But he loves playing with fire. And you’re full of it.

He watches you glance at the Cullens and the half-breed. “Alright Nessie come on let’s show him what you can do kiddo.” You scoop the girl up and you and the Cullens walk over with Jake behind you.

-----

When does he know of his feelings?

When within reaching distance you set Renessme down and pat her head, “okay tiny Loch Ness, say hello.”

Bella is panicking, but she trusts you it seems, she better, you have no qualms frying— sans mate— every vampire here. They do their little song and dance. Aro tries to talk about the danger and you feel your temper boil over.

“Darling.” You croon taking a step forward with a sharp but soft smile.

You remind him of a lioness, purring softly but ready to tear into him with one movement.

He raises a brow; you are in 6 inch heels putting you nose to nose with him. “Yes carissima?” He breathes deep and nearly groans out loud, you smell so good, like spring and a heady feminine scent like perfume edged in lilacs and lavender.

“Could you pretty pretty pretty please just keep an eye on little Nessie— I hate to tell you but she’s quite important to me and I can assure you she fits in with humans better than the Cullens do.”

“And if I don’t.”

You let flames dance in your gaze. “I’ll roast everyone here except your brothers and their mates and make you start the fuck over without me.”

Aro’s done.

Cupid has struck him in his dead heart.

He’s never been more terrified or aroused or enraged at once at your dulcet threat purred from such sweet lips.

He wants to grip you by your hair to him, pick you up and haul you to somewhere private and teach you a lesson.

He wants to fight you. And it’s quite clear you’re ready to rumble, though he’s not sure you’d let him win. Or that it wouldn’t end up tangling in a bed somewhere on fire. That’s fine too.

A manic grin spreads across his face, eyes going pitch black as he snatches you up by the waist and hauls you closer loving the startled look in your eyes settling into something dark and wanting. “And if I agree?”

The brothers roll their eyes.

Go figure you’d be as bat shit as he is.

“I’ll leave with you right now.” You give him THAT look matching his almost mad grin.

A low purr echos from him making Bella clap her hands over Nessie’s ears. “Una ragazza così meravigliosa, credo che mi piaccia come funziona la tua mente.” Such a wonderful girl, I think I like how your mind works.

But your plans to drag your mate off end as Alice shows up with her witness right when he’s about to whisk you off for some obvious adult time.

Both of you sigh put out and exasperated.

Yes you just about ended an entire potential threat with batting pretty eyes and coaxing the leader of the Volturi into some fun.

But now that’s ruined because of the psychic. Alice is looking rather embarrassed as the proceedings go. Given that she probably saw how everything was about to go down.

Aro can sense you’re as annoyed as he is, that and you’re not leaving his side. And you don’t mind touching him but you’re not because oh yeah he needs to focus. But oh he can see your hand twitching towards his own.

He can easily turn his gift off and so he does and grips your hand, quickly jerking you to his side.

Electricity lights along your skin at the contact and both of you jolt a moment and glance sideways looking amused.

This was going to be fun.

——

How’d you end up with the Volturi?

Alice and her witnesses ease their concerns about Nessie. Aro placates the Volturi as you linger back behind him a bit. Everyone just poof! Vanishes.

“So ah, can we get my stuff first before you whisk me off around the world?” You ask sweetly.

Aro’s a bit startled, “you wish to leave already?”

You realize he would be willing to stay for a bit and let you acclimate.

“Nah where you go I fucking go, come on baby. Let’s get the fuck outta dodge.” You give him a teasing shove as you walk by making Carlisle’s coven silently shake in mirth at his surprised expression.

Carlisle murmurs, “Good luck Aro.”

“Fuck off Carly.” The King growls back before following you.

That’s all they wrote.

You were in. And you made yourself at home quite easily.

Jane and Alec adore you— you saw them and just SQUEEd. “OMG they’re so DEADLY but so CUTE!”

Jane wasn’t quite sure what to do with you picking her UP and hugging her nuzzling your nose to her cheek, “she’s just a tiny tot of doom I adore it! We’re going to burn the SHIT outta people.”

Alec just sat starry eyed as you ruffled his hair, “I know boys don’t like being picked up.”

Jane had become a koala on you. And you didn’t mind.

Well. You’re Mama now. Aro couldn’t be more pleased as you continue to help develop their skills trying things outside of the box.

See, that’s also a sort of talent you have— you can help people learn how to use their gifts because of how you think. Not a gift per say, but certainly useful.

Jane it turns out can utilize the fire element.

Alec can utilize air.

With you knowing both you’re easily able to teach Alec how to hone his targets and even allow his gift to POP UP near someone rather than from his hands.

Jane is capable of setting shit on fire now.

Aro isn’t sure if he’s proud or worried.

Bit of both. But you are STERN with their use of powers. And when Jane set Felix’s foot on fire she was forced to shine everyone’s shoes in the Volturi in the afternoon and write 200,000 times at HUMAN PACE. “We do not light family on fire.”

She never did it again.

The inner coven loves you. Caius and you are besties Marcus is like a big brother always doting on you. Athenadora and Sulpricia are of course still together as companions, and don’t worry about his ex wife— they were on the rocks she’s ecstatic someone else can keep him in line.

The coven instantly takes to you, in fact you’re now basically Mother to everyone. Scolding, teaching, comforting, you do it all. But you’re also a leader and a ruthless one at that.

A perfect fit Aro thinks.

——

How’d he deal with his emotions?

You are driving Aro FUCKING CRAZY.

Literally mad.

You know how to push his buttons and you are not one to do as told. So for him, he who has anyone bending to his will to see you just cock a brow at him and laugh “awe.”

He wants to choke you half to death.

You are a Queen. He tells himself. It’s to be expected that you’d challenge him.

Sulpricia finds it HILARIOUS and you two are besties. Fuck that’s all he needs. She is ever so encouraging of your independence.

He often finds himself in Sulpricia’s study pacing rampantly, “what am I going to do with her?”

“You know you like it.” Sully says lounging back on her couch. “If you didn’t you wouldn’t be so utterly ass over tea kettle.”

Aro is not good with his emotions when it comes to jealousy. And he is JEALOUS.

You’re perfect to him, utterly beautiful, you are the sun and he Icarus stupidly flying as high as he can towards you in hopes to reach the light.

You’re also inclined to let him touch you whenever you want to express things without using words— and you’ve learned to let him speak to you telepathically as well.

So often you just sit with your pinkies touching on a couch and have back and forth silently except for the occasional twitch on your lips at a humorous comment.

You’ve managed to make him huff a laugh occasionally.

But he is utterly posessive. He does not like it when men stare too long, admiring is one thing, but nothing escapes Aro.

So when a lower guard had been in trouble for an infraction and when you had disciplined him the utter disrespect for a concubine replacement was across Aro’s mind and…welll—

Guard died.

You had just looked startled and gave a ‘oh well’ kinda shrug before touching ARo’s hand. Feel better baby?

Yes you called him baby in private, so modern, and he would NEVER admit he loved it. Baby, darling, love, honey, the list went on and each one twisted his insides into ribbons of absolute adoration.

You had actually taken to the bond so well Marcus had informed him that it was practically cemented.

His only hang up was himself.

——

Who does he ask for help?

Didyme is no longer there— his dear sister, a deep sorrow as he was accidentally responsible for her death.

Marcus however is always there to be the voice of reason, and he sits Aro down and listens to his brother spill his guts. Aro is terrified, he is well aware he is THE monster that makes OTHER monsters keep in line.

But for you to look at him like that? He could never bear it. His heart would break.

Marcus sighs, “Aro come here.” He drags his brother to the training grounds.

Where Aro get’s to see his mate literally tear apart the entire guard with blades…. Did his eyes deceive him— were those made from vampire ash and fangs?!

You pause your onslaught, “oh hi darling!” You prance over and smile, “like them? My witch-smith friend made them for me! Fucking bastards kept coming for me after awhile and ya know I just hate the idea of wasting shit.”

Marcus glanced at Aro and gave him a I told you so.

“Everything okay?” You ask looking concerned. You are dragging him along as he partially willingly let’s you take him to his sister’s gardens. “What’s wrong?”

And so, he exhales and does the one thing he’s never done with his gift.

He touches your hand and shows you his own thoughts.

He expects your recoil. Expects you to shun him. Expects your hatred and braces himself for it.

You gasp and when he’s about to drag his hand away and you grip him tighter. “No don’t…let me…” and so you watch— thousands of years of memories over the course of a week or two. Asking silent questions as the images play, getting silent answers in return.

And so, in return, you show him your human life— a life that had been riddled with abusers, torment and lack of love, the iron in your spine that had solidified your creation when you had dragged yourself from an open alley way at dawn into the sewer system after being left to die being drained by a nomad after a brutal assault. You shared with him that it had taken a lot for you to even move after what had happened.

Esme had found you.

And so your friends made sure you were okay even if you didn’t follow their diet.

You both spend time going over your pasts, Aro gently asking questions and you doing the same to answer as best you could.

It was why Rosalie and you got along so well, there were some experiences one could only understand by going through it. And you both had learned how to cope with the trauma you had.

Aro is patient, both of you taking time to feel through each others wounds, taking time to rework into each others personal space.

Marcus is stunned to tell Aro that the bond is nigh unbreakable after this exchange.

The Kings magically -coughs- big brother Marcus loses his shit finding out and Caius leads the search party with Demetri— cough cough— find the nomad and he’s now in a box limb free 15 feet below the dungeon with a tube connecting him to the surface, his tongue removed and he only gets blood once a year. *Jane lit them on fire multiple times to practice her accuracy and aim*

You find out of course, and smile through the dry sobs as all three embrace you like a big protective group hug. For the first time in a very long time, it’s safe.

Truly safe.

——

What happens when he tells you?

Aro is a man of few words, and honestly not much is needed between you two with the ability to go back and forth with his gift.

So in the middle of a walk in Didyme’s gardens he merely grabs your hand gently and kisses the top of your fingers.

And you’re flooded with his emotions.

The warmth and tenderness and absolute adoration is almost enough to restart your dead heart as venom pools in your eyes. “Aro…”

He loves you, loves you more than his own life, would give anything for you to make you smile.

This isn’t the love that is complacent, to just sit idle and rust away, he wants to chase you for eternity, whatever it takes to keep you at his side.

And you flood him right back— lowering the barriers you had and after a moment he merely leans down and presses his forehead to your own, giving the two of you time to just bask in the warmth of affection that’s swirling back and forth akin to the waves of the tide under the moon and sun at twilight.

——

First Kiss?

The leaders of Volterra were in the throne room, the Queens having their own thrones behind their husbands but visible carved in different woods to represent their personalities with different intricate features much like the brother’s thrones holding different crowning points but all the same color.

Your own is the same color as Aro’s throne, but mingled with mahogany accents. Ruby red stones slotted at the top with a crescent moon and sun carving emboldened with gold spiked halo.

Caius' mate's throne is a pale color, affixed with branches and beautiful earth like tones, complimenting her grounded nature.

Marcus’ Witch Mate is merely embellished in a ash throne, deep red almost black gems and the symbol for the overall witch and vampire alliance above her throne.

With all three positions of Queen in Volterra taken up by a true mate, it is the most stable the Volturi have been in several millennia.

But that day in particular was rough, there were a few traitors that had been brought forward— and one of them had managed to get loose from Felix as Aro had been gaining information lunging for the King’s throat.

You moved so fast no one even saw you as you streaked forward like a ghost and lobbed the vampire’s head off holding a blade made of vampire teeth expertly with an animalistic snarl.

You had positioned yourself in front of Aro, crouched, blade poised and your eyes wide and wild, teeth flashing with a dangerous snarl.

Marcus’ witch had already shielded Aro but paused when she saw how enraged you were. Athena and Sulpricia had faltered, Caius looked utterly proud.

You spun round, dropping your blade— knowing Felix and the others had everything in hand as Aro had reached for you, the two of you locked in an embrace, his hands holding your face still as your own hands grasped his wrists. Foreheads pressed together—

The coven was used to this, a private conversation but you could feel the utter terror that had gone through him when he saw you out of the corner of his eye. If anything had happened to you—he was almost angry at you.

But he could easily sense the rage that had consumed you at the thought of someone hurting him. Despite knowing the guard and Jane would Never allow it, your instincts had taken over.

No one would ever take from you again.

And you had been frightened.

Behind that rage when he got past it was utter fear that he’d be gone and you’d be all alone again all the tender memories would be the last you’d have of him as you gave a dry sob before the venom dropped from your eyes— a true show of vampiric emotion that was a rarity.

“Carissima, no. I’ll not leave you that easily.” He murmured and not giving a flying fuck about anyone in the room kissed you full on the mouth gathering you up in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered half broken against his mouth. “I’m sorry-“

“I know I know, shhh cara mia shhh,” gathering you up he merely flitted out of the room leaving the others to deal with the issue.

Tons of snuggles. He had bundled you up to him in his private rooms and merely kept your hands together enjoying the shared emotions knowing the other was close and safe.

Aro knew exactly how to calm you, he merely showed you all his favorite memories, of the coven, of his travels, the antics his brother’s got up to. He replayed the moment he first saw you.

That always made you laugh of course she swears like a sailor.

——

First Time?

It’s in an elevator.

Okay so here’s the thing. The Volturi have these massive events, and your official coronation happens at one of these.

Aro is so proud.

And so fucking jealous as you are danced across the floor with other vampires— who are oh so respectful and as they should be as Aro watches from the upper floor like an angel of death.

You look stunning, your smile lighting up the entire ballroom, friends from near and far are there— even then Cullens— God bless Carly he even had animal blood brought for him.

You’re dancing around with Nessie laughing and watching the girl child giggle like a fiend before handing her off to the Shifter Aro hated the smell but it was what it was.

Over the course of the evening he was getting awful tired of sharing you. And as the evening wound down to an end you both were just going to take the elevator back up to the private rooms as the Ballroom was on the top floor of Volterra.

The energy crackled in the small space and you both glanced at one another. It was like a short fuse had been lit on a stick of dynamite.

We’re so not doing this in an elevator are we?

You didn’t realize you had said it out loud even as you both gravitated towards one another and his hands tangled into your hair sending gold pins flying to the ground as his mouth found yours and you let out a deep moan as his tongue swiped your lips before you happily opened them.

“We’re going to be patient. Cara mia. ” He said sternly more to himself than you— then groaned when your teeth tugged gently on his bottom lip knowing it drove him crazy. “Sarai la mia morte. Sulla mia tomba scriveranno 'ha giocato con il fuoco ed è perito felicemente’” his voice became heated as his hands moved over your form, “non mi importa più, vieni da me mia fiamma, brucia con me.” You will be my death. On my grave they will write 'he played with fire and perished happily'. I don't care anymore, come to me my flame, burn with me.

His hands were gripping your backside and hauling you up, pressing himself firmly between your thighs before grinding against you. But when his teeth scraped your neck your brain shorted out—

“Oh for gods sake Aro just fuck me already—” your hands were scrabbling at his waist coat and shirt pleased how easily the buttons pinged off the walls of the elevator.

Your mate let out a pleased noise, one that was utterly inhuman when your hands tangled into his raven locks and knocked the golden V pin to the floor allowing the ocean and pomegranate scent of his to curtain you from the world as he bent his head down and kissed you as if it were the last thing he would get to do just then. Right before he smacked his hand against the emergency stop button jolting the ride to the private floor still.

If you thought his kisses were something to be swooning over— because he always knew what you needed.

Well his gift extends to much and he is in tune with it.

Your mind is his favorite place to be, and he brutally uses what he knows to his advantage as his fingers skim up your legs flinging your skirt over your thighs to teasingly grind himself against you till you’re almost clawing at him half feral.

“My pretty little mate—“ he croons at you, “you looked so beautiful cara mia,” kissing down your throat before biting marks into your flesh licking them before continuing on as his teeth jerk the fabric of your bodice and sleeves off not even bothering with his hands. “E tu sei tutto mio, cazzo.” And you’re all fucking mine.

You were busy molding your hands against his form, loving how it was just ratcheting up his half mad with desire motions, twitchy, greedy, desperate to touch, “What was it you joked about that one time?” He was referring to a memory with your best friends over drinks.

You gulped and shivered a bit. “I believe I said sometimes a girl just wants to ahem— get slammed to a wall and fucked stupid?”

He smirked as his hands tore fabric off you letting his fingers to glide along your skin, allowing your own to do the same and showing you know exactly what he liked through the bond of touch.

If you’d been human the air would have left your lungs as he pressed his body tight to your own, pinning you in place letting you feel what you did to him, the hard length of his cock pressed into your belly. “What do you say we take care of that, hm?”

You’re speaking in tongues before he even takes you fully, and roughly, there’s no slow tender love making and frankly you’re just glad for it.

His wild smile sliding into a predatory proud smirk when you’re just a mess; whining at him, begging, pleading, twitching against him and oh you’re just so pretty when at his mercy.

He literally has the tongue of the devil.

“Did I finally break you little one?” He croons despite his rough movements sending you into another shockwave of bliss as your nails make claw marks in the wall.

Fuck he had— you’ll do anything if he’ll just continue.

Your submission is like a drug, he’s mad on it, hands digging against you, making small fissures of cracks along your hips that make you groan gleeful as you push closer for more of his touches.

“That’s right bambi, give me everything.”

That’s all you hear before he’s fucking you into the wall of the elevator, sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck just to relish in the pain and pleasure filled noises that escape from you as you beg for more, more, just please give more it’s all you want.

“My good bambi.” He growls as he begins it all over again, rumbling in your ear as your try to escape the onslaught of sensations— but happy you can’t as his grip has you immovable. “You’re not escaping me just yet.”

You’re both a mess, not that either of you care. Adjusting yourselves as best you can—

You’re lucky his private rooms are close and he simply carries you and flits you both into his rooms; you both end up continuing what was started.

——

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is a touch telepath, he knows exactly what you need.

But he also surprises you with what you didn’t even know you needed.

Snuggles, so many snuggles— Aro is not a tactile person— but with you?

Forget it.

He’s practically melting into your form and trying to fuse himself to you.

Massages, nuzzling your hair, biting.

Lots of biting— but not hard bites, love bites. Pressing his teeth to your skin to leave little imprints that he just can’t get over. You always poke fun at him for it.

Plus let’s face it.

Bite = Love.

He and Caius are on one mind with that.

He also took a note from Marcus and you both enjoy the heat of the baths together after a particularly long rough romp.

Which turns into a bath romp.

Because ahem *REASONS*

“I’m King I don’t need a reason to have you— now come here.” He’ll huff imperiously when you giggle at him as he drags you close into his embrace kissing you.

Okay he lies.

You looked too pretty in the bath.

Aro can’t help himself. That’s the reason.

——

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He is SHOOK when you tell him your favorite thing about him is his hands. You never feel misunderstood.

Even in the rare fights you simply huff and reach out to him, wiggling your fingers with a pleading glance; or if he won’t take your hand you’ll walk over sit in his lap and headbutt your forehead to his like an angry cat.

But usually Aro will take your hand and you both have a deep understanding of where you’re both coming from.

After a few moments it’s settled.

You kiss his hands, he knows you love how he plays you like a finely tuned instrument when alone.

Love when he delves his fingers into your hair and cradles you close even if you’re in the throne room— he’s the fucking king he can do what he likes damn it.

But Aro is startled by this— everyone hates touching him even though he can control his gift, they seem to think that— aside from his brothers and sister in laws— that he just loves to dive into people’s minds for funsies.

No it’s awful. Plain awful. He can barely stand his own mind why would he want to traverse someone else’s?

But that brings us to what he likes about you— he LOVES your head space. When he’s stressed it’s his favorite place to be because you have a vivid imagination, as a writer as well you show him stories you’ve thought of and worlds you’ve created with vivid detail. He finds it quite amusing to use watch your thoughts too on a daily, you like it simply because he’s close.

But aside from that it’s you.

Just You.

Just ALL of you.

He can’t pick don’t make the man pick, he would just keep you near him for eternity which you seem to have no issues with.

———

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically…I am a disgusting person…)

He is quite a posessive person.

Two Words:

Breeding Kink

You’re his and his alone, so the idea of ah— claiming you that way just sends him off into the ether.

The fact that you both have a breeding kink and literally can’t have kids is a GREAT thing because you’ve literally sat there a absolute mess after round five and thought out loud as he tenderly cleans you up, “shit thank god we can’t reproduce because I am 100% sure that’d have knocked my ass up—” which has had him shaking in mirth having to pause to control himself after a few moments.

Beg him for it.

Make that whining needy noise in the back of your throat at him for him to finally give you what you need.

He’ll just lose it, pin you by the throat and well— you’ve broken a few beds this way.

He has no shame.

Just glances at the bed, hits speed dial to the furniture store and orders a new one.

His only other favorite thing with C as he soon found out from O (you’ll see) was he adores when you swallow down everything he gives you. That’s got him rumbling in Italian about what a good girl you are and how much you please him.

———

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s a MASSIVE Pleasure Dom. And when I say Dom.

HE GOT DOM ENERGY.

With very mild Sadistic tendencies. (Thanks a lot Caius ya pervy fucker)

However he is also a very sincere soft streak when you’re a very good pet.

He picked up pet play from his sadistic brother hearing him call his amore Bunny. One day down the rabbit hole that is Google and he was hooked.

But he calls you Bambi. It’s an Italian term for baby-girl.

It also works because you become like a damn deer in the headlights when he pulls the Dominant voice on you.

It thrums with a low purr and has the capability to just make your brain go wait what?

HE’S A FUCKING SWITCH.

You had been pissed as shit at him. “I don’t know whether I want to strangle you or fuck you to death!” You paused because you had literally throat pinned him to the wall, the stone crumbling beneath him, feeling the muscles of his neck working as he swallowed nervously.

You were about to let go but saw his eyes had gone totally black and expectant and startled but excited.

He was just as fucking confused as you both calculated in a matter of seconds what had happened.

You were first to catch on. “Oh?….OH...….oooooohhhhhhh ….. you….you son of a….” You sputtered as he got a sly grin, “you can’t just look at me like— you are so ill behaved!!”

He wasn’t far behind and raised a black brow at you looking mischievous, “…..and what are you going to do about it mia regina?”

Next thing he knew he was face planted on his office floor with your boot pressed on his cheek making him groan low. “Gonna make you regret mouthing off to me is what I’m going to do my Aro.”

Edge him. Don’t let him touch you all day till he begs. He loves when you exert your authority especially on him? Oh forget it.

Queen Slay.

Literally you are his Queen and you are the only one who get’s to fucking tell him what to do.

And you ruthlessly do so when he’s in the mood. All you hear is “mia regina?” He’ll croon at you, as your hand comes up and drags him to you by his tie.

“would you like to be of service to me Aro?”

Magic words. He’s done, let him have you and he will literally just focus on your pleasure.

Worship Kink.

You had dropped to your knees at his desk and laid your head in his lap and he almost lost his god damn mind. You purred at him, “il mio maestro”.

Aro .exe has stopped fucking working.

———

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Thanks to the tactile telepathy as well as the fact that he and his brothers have slept their way through history, Aro is a very mixed lover.

When I say greedy as a lover, he wants your pleasure for himself. And will literally drive you to it till you’re sobbing for mercy.

He has none.

But he does take pity on you when he knows you’re truly at your limit with touch.

You weren’t inexperienced but his own experience blew yours out of the damn water. Can literally have you on the edge in mere minuets. And is SMUG about it.

Fucking smug bastard just watching you with that smirk on his face and a ‘well?’ Kinda expression.

You have to beg if you want it.

You have to plead, you have to let him hear you or he’ll just keep going and I quote ‘hmmm I can’t hear you cara mia, you’re being so quiet you know that makes me want to fuck you harder, come now, let me hear you— don’t make me have to drag it from you baby girl. You know I love to hear your sweet sounds.”

Could probably kill you if you weren’t already dead with what he can do with his hands.

His tongue is even better.

When asked which you preferred you had just panted desperately after a hard orgasm, “any. All. Both. God just…holy fuck.”

He cracked up over that. “My poor baby I broke her.”

————

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves having you in his lap.

Prefers to see your face and eyes, seems to need it.

But occasionally he just loves gripping your neck from behind and feeling you gasp against his grip as he slams into you roughly.

Adores anything that has you clinging onto him for dear life.

Likes being in a position to mark you. Favorite thing ever.

You had once tested his patience (willfully hoping for this outcome) a bit too much and he had pinned you completely immobile to the desk of his office and fucked you within an inch of your immortal life gagging you with his black tie.

“you just have to test me don’t you mia regina?” He had growled in your ear leaning over you, his hand crunching the ornate wood to splinters as you keened and whined for him to keep going. “Such a ill behaved thing you are, should just keep you here like this for when I please hm?”

He was not joking, you were kept there quite happily under his desk sitting at his feet your head on his lap waiting and absolutely willing.

He could feel your hands grip his thighs, “quit that I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work—“ his voice teetered off in a guttural growl as he looked down.

You were biting his shirt looking up at him already nudging yourself between his thighs your teeth digging into his trouser zipper and tugging down.

his hands were gripping your hair jerking you up to kiss him deep, a growl against your lips, “Fucking damn it— come here.”

When you can get him to swear which is rare— yeah…

He didn’t exactly sound angry.

But he sure fucked you like he was though.

“This is what you were after hm? You brat!” A harsh laugh as he pinned you down a bit harder, “fine then I should ensure you’re good….and….sated…shouldn’t I bambi?”

———

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very sincere.

Teasing but only in a very sexual way.

Borders on humiliation but he respects you too much.

Very serious though when he focuses on you.

He’s focusing on all the sensations you’re sending him, letting you know what he’s feeling as well which just sets you into the damn ether.

———

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s ARO.

The man is vain.

The man is neat.

Clean and pristine.

He’d give a regal huff of annoyance, “I am not a heathen darling.”

———

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ohhh you wouldn’t know it but he’s such a god damn romantic.

He is. And he MAKES time for you. The schedules are changed so you have time together more often— something that was never done before.

Operas, romantic walks out in Volterra at night.

Sightseeing.

Your favorite was your trip to Germany in the winter with a big cozy cottage and a big fire and lots of bedding to ahem— destroy.

Aro has penguin brain.

He brings you small gifts that made him think of you— you have a bracelet that has special charms he had custom made for you, a lochness monster for when you met, a castle obviously for Volterra, a doe, different tiny items that speckled through your life, each one means something— you hardly ever take it off.

You have a collection of very sparkly stones in many jars that he found on his missions.

They are actually gemstones— insert eye roll— they set off pretty prisms through your shared rooms.

“Aren’t you going to make jewelry of them?” Aro asks.

“No darling they are perfect just as they are.” You smile.

Aro actually has the literal voice of a damn angel.

He sings to you in Italian, soft dulcet sweet tones and dances you around your rooms teasing you relentlessly.

Aro writes beautiful poetry. He will at least write one every few months when inspiration comes to him.

You have your own private box at the opera house. As well as being allowed to fund artists across the world, you’ve found incredible talent on broadway and other venues.

Flowers. Aro ensures care for a private greenhouse for you on the roof, each flower has a meaning, and they all bloom year round given the proper temperatures on the greenhouse. “Why would I send you flowers when they die so easily.” He asks kissing your cheek as you smile over the new blooms. “This is everlasting, much more fitting.” He muses.

All his poetry is in a beautiful book Caius got you for your birthday.

———

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Why would he do that when he has you?

He is a patient man.

He can wait.

And he has pristine control over himself.

He is too old for pre-pubescent raging hormone crap.

But he will legit melt for you if you do it for him. Prefers it slow, enjoying your touch and loves to watch as you take instruction.

You’re such a good girl for him.

————

———

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Aro is a kinky bastard.

MASSIVE Pleasure Dom.

Worship Kink.

Edging.

Controlling Orgasms *you don’t get to come till he gives permission*

Collaring *your Volturi necklace is LITERALLY on a collar*

Overstimulation. *his gift allows him to know when you’re pushed to hard and when you can take a bit more. When you’re craving that over stimulus, he’ll give it happily. Knowing he can turn you into a babbling speaking in tongues, drooling, eyes rolling back mess just— just— GAH.*

Breeding Kink *Aro has a true breeding kink, ask him to fill you up beg him for it and he’s going to lose his mind.*

Gagging. *he loves to gag you, but also loves being choked by you or you grabbing onto his tie.

Wax Play *you’re a fire elemental user, bringing candles into play is just oh it’s nice. * Prefers to have it done TO him. Your air element gift also allows you to cool the wax quickly and give new sensations.

————

———

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Aro is private, he prefers somewhere comfortable to take his sweet time with you.

Rooms Private, hotel, somewhere he can just lavish you and enjoy everything you can give him.

He’d rather take the time to find a nice comfy setting.

But every blue moon— he’ll just look at you in that specific dress molding to your thighs.

He will drag you into an alley way and just rail the shit out of you keeping you quiet with a firm grip over your mouth as he hisses the dirtiest things in your ear.

You two once had a quick rendezvous in a changing room at a theatre. -shrug- it was empty oh well.

———

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

“Master?” You bat your eyes at him

His nostrils flare as he breathes in and just knows exactly what you want and you smell so fucking good.

The tone you use.

He knows. You want him. That’s it.

Unless it’s a trial— and DO NOT DO THIS BEFORE TRIAL.

And if you happen to when he takes your hand send him your fantasies after seeing him standing there all regal and watching his mouth form syllables so well and how much better it’ll be with his mouth— ahem— busy somewhere else.

He will be so mad at you.

He’s glaring at you behind a mask of calm and you can feel the fucking tremor in his limbs.

You just bat your eyes innocently at him and smile.

His face: you’re in SO MUCH trouble.

Brat energy??? During Trial?!??! Now is that the time to give brat energy!!???

Oh. Oh. oh you are so in trouble. When he gets done with ripping some poor idiots head off— okay not really they broke the rules— stalks over to you; grabs you by your oh so pretty collar, “come with me bambi.”

And just pulls you along to your rooms with you giggling the whole way and practically prancing behind him like a— well like a doe prancing into a lions den.

He’s tossed you over his shoulder once and just flitted out of the rooms into your private chambers, hurling you onto the bed before ripping into your clothing. “You best be ready for your punishment.”

“Oooohhhhhh absolutly master.”

“that’s my girl.”

The coven just rolls their eyes. Aro is less manic with you there and you surprisingly bring ease to the coven— so ya know what if that’s what does it whatever.

————

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Humiliation. No.

Impact play is one thing, but to intentionally hurt you no.

If he does impact play one hand is always touching you to ensure you’re okay.

————

———

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving? The man has a wicked tongue.

His oral game is LEGIT.

Will have you in a puddle of twitching ecstasy in mere moments of teasing because he knows where to touch and that’s not just his tongue but his hands.

Will kiss you all over before even getting to the ahem— final destination.

You’re either ready to combust or ready to strangle him when he finally just begins to devour you.

Eats pussy like a man starved but has all the time to enjoy.

Smug as Fuck.

Expect him to just watch you as you’re coming back down from the absolute height he threw you up to and glaring down at his smug grin as he waits before beginning all over again.

Will go all night if you’ve been ill behaved.

Your record is 20 before you BEGGED for a break.

He finally took pity and gave you a warm bubble bath and snuggles and praises.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like receiving, however it was more just a “hm, that’s nice—“

But with you.

Especially when you had decided to walk into his office, lay your head in his lap as you had sat yourself under his desk so he could work while he played with your hair (you have a comfy cushion there who was he to argue if that was the best way to be close and he could get work done??!!)

But his work was abruptly halted when you had nuzzled his cock through his trousers dragging your mouth wide as he became painfully hard in record time.

“what is it you think you’re doing bambi?” He purred looking oh so curious.

“Nothing.” You muffled around him as your teeth found his zipper and trouser buttons with a rather feral sound.

Upon finding out you had no gag reflex and having your nose buried in his pelvis as you moaned around him he was done for and he didn’t even care.

Work was forgotten.

Loves when you pleasure him, but of course has to be in control for the most part.

Buries his hands into your hair and loves throat fucking you, praising you the entire time. “What a good thing you don’t need to breathe dolcezza.”

You had hummed around him ecstatically.

The reward for this is always drool worthy.

Play with yourself as you do and let him see you do so keeping your clothing out of the way and you’ll have him break finally, that cool haughty composure cracking as his gaze goes just utterly uncontrollably wild, his hips moving a bit harder.

————

———

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You both fuck rough.

But you both also love the slow and sensual moments too.

Especially if you have the time to just drown in one another.

It just depends on the situation.

Rough And Fast:

Slow and Sensual is how it usually starts off, he’s so attentive, so soft and cherishes you, that is till you growl at him for more and he has of course no other option but to give you what he wants.

You’re his queen after all what kind of mate would he be if he didn’t give in?

But has today been exceedingly trying for either of you?

Or is your mate quite amped up from a particularly rough trial?

You’ve been pestering him haven’t you? Hmmm.. yeah buckle up.

You’re in trouble and therefore need to relearn where your place is— it’s in your bed, beneath him losing your mind out of pleasure.

And he is all too happy to provide that lesson if you seem to forget.

You try to forget often. You damn brat.

Slow and Sensual

However sometimes he just wants to be gentle. And frankly so do you, you want to just bask in the bond you have and slowly explore all over again despite knowing you have memorized one another to heart by now.

Doesn’t matter, you still find things that surprise you, things that make you smile.

Places that when touched cause a jolt— well that’s new.

“I could spend my entire life mapping out your body carissima.”

“that’s an awful long time in bed.”

Aro would just smirk kissing down your sternum, “oh what a pity— I suppose my brothers shall have to cover for me hm?” Bite marks being pressed into your flesh, “I plan on leaving so many of these that I forget where they are so I can find them later.”

“Such an evil overlord.” But you’re giddy, he’s going to make your entire world tilt again with those slow careful hands of his and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

———

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’d be surprised that such a patient man could be so damn impatient for you.

He’s not as impatient as Caius but not AS patient as Marcus.

So it’s a toss up when he’s twitchy during trials and catches a glimpse of you floating down the hallway in all your grandure and he mentally tosses a coin.

Nope he can’t take it that flash of leg just set him off.

“Excuse me I do belive I remembered something that needs my attention.”

The others just inwardly roll their eyes.

Next thing you know you’re gagged by his tie in his office pinned over the desk with his teeth buried in your neck and frankly you expected this you wore that damn skirt with the slit in it to tease him.

Seeing this just makes him let out a feral noise and a laugh at the end, “oh you planned that hm?” He nibbles the outer shell of your ear, “missed me did you?”

You can only nod as he continues, eyes rolling back as he knows exactly what you’re needing and it’s certainly not gentle right now.

“I have exactly fifteen minutes before my brothers come looking for me— think you can be a good girl and make me come?”

You smirk against the gag in your mouth before purring at him; and it’s off to the races.

He’s in trouble quite often for this— but who’s to argue with him.

He’s king he can do what he wants…. At times….

Okay most of the time.

Plus he’s always in a MUCH better mood.

I wonder Why.

————

———

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

While Aro does love to experiment your safety is his utmost importance.

But he’s a curious bastard and you are right behind him on that scale so sometimes your games become a bit risky.

Never life threatening but oh boy do you two get a grin and just glance at one another, “you know we haven’t done that yet.”

“No…. No we haven’t….”

And that’s how it usually starts.

The worst thing you two can realize is you both utter “I don’t know”.

Well now you have to know if either of you are able to ahem— arrive— under rather dire circumstances such as utilizing your gift (don’t worry your gift doesn’t hurt him he knows how to use fire too surprise surprise.).

You almost had a heart attack though and nearly killed him after.

He just cackled that manic laugh that had you joining in after hitting him several times.

———

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Need I say more than one word?

Vampire.

Aro takes his time most occasions, his slow, slow sweet time.

Now— you’d THINK that the rougher encounters would last a shorter period.

You’re wrong.

So wrong.

He lives for it you’re going to be so happy you’re a vampire and can’t really get sore except for when you both leave cracking handprints on one another.

————

———

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Sensory.

Crops, leather gloves, feathers, ben wa balls are huge and he likes that they are silent but give you that teasing sensation. Wax candle play is huge for both of you and you enjoy long luxurious heated baths and sauna sessions with one another.

Ooooo he loves it.

Leather gloves area huge thing for him but not for what you’d think— he likes to challenge himself.

Sure he can know what you’re feeling but he wants to be in tune with your physical responses as well and so occasionally he dons them just to test his knowledge.

Damn smug overlord is just as good and you hate it and now he’s smirking at you while popping his jaw with his hand on his elbow waiting for you to come back into your body.

“Shut up.” You rasp as your head spins.

“I didn’t say anything.” His raven hair slides across his face as he grins wider.

“Your SMUGNESS IS LOUD ARO.”

“Me?! Smug! Why I never…” -cue the dark chuckle before he starts it up all over again, “maybe once more to ensure you remember it’s not just the gifts edge hm?”

“Ohhhh I’m going to die.” But you reach for him biting his leather clad hands.

“No you won’t.” He hums happily, “I won’t let you. You’re not allowed to leave me bambi.”

————

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HE IS SO DAMN UNFAIR.

But so are you.

He’s not as bad as Caius but he is close, and he only does it with LOOKS.

His eyes are utterly expressive, as is that mouth of his, so when he glances at you in just the right way you can feel it drop down in your gut and sizzle.

And he does it during trial. Oh but when you do it you’re in trouble. Psh.

He’ll tease you and brush your hand as he walks by just to know that you’re basically twitching from frustration at the end of the day and about to boil over as he leans down and licks your neck. “Bambi, awe, was I too mean to you? Hmm I should make it up to you shouldn’t I?”

He always makes it up to you.

The man has the best ways to use his mouth aside from running the coven and giving orders.

————

———

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aro was quite clear studies, and private rooms were to be soundproofed.

He’s loud, swearing (which he normally does not do), praising mess of a man, it’s needed.

And you love it.

You can practically feel the vibration in his chest when he purrs at you, less growling, he’s not as violent unless you get him too worked up.

No no no, he loves making you melt, and knows exactly what to croon at you to make your mind go blank.

———

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s more posessive than Marcus. And that bleeds into a protective nature.

A bit controlling, but he knows very well he can’t do that to you as he had to Sulprica. BUT it doesn’t stop him from trying as gods forbid anything happen to you.

Less Jealous than Caius.

But his ah— mood swings can cause for quite an interesting feat.

Since Marcus and Caius were always the brunt of the bashing and warfare, and he the brains behind the operation, many seem to think he has no bite marks on his body due to not being in the fray.

No.

The problem is Aro becomes too violent. Especially because of his talent when touching his victims it tends to become a frenzy. Once he had decimated an entire coven single handedly because the rage they had was swamping him.

His brothers had to pin him down and try to relay calm emotions— his sister Didyme thankfully had been the one to bring him back.

You yourself are now that calm place.

At one point, a guard had been careless enough to have thought about you in ah— that way— Aro was aware you were quite beautiful, your personality no nonsense and many of the guard and lower guard considered you a maternal figure almost otherwise a very good friend.

But this guard.

Ohhh he coveted. What was not his.

But what was worse, was that on the way to the throne room he had spoken to you rather crassly, you merely ignored him; he wasn’t even worth your time. But he had glanced you over as if you were a rather tasty morsel, the imaginings of you spread out beneath him had Aro’s hands cracking his wrists.

You saw the change slightly as you were behind him. His spine went poker straight. “You dare.” It was worse, the guard had actually tried to think of how to lure you away to him— you were a queen so surely infidelity was expected—

The rumble in his chest was a whole new sound you’d never even heard.

Both Marcus and Caius were sitting straight up and narrowing their gaze at Aro before Marcus flitted over and guided you to Aro’s throne placing you on it and standing protectively in front of you.

“Marcus?” you peered behind the eldest king and he hushed you gently.

The guard was torn apart in mere seconds.

It was utterly ruthless and with no mercy.

“People tend to forget Aro is only about a thousand years younger than I.” Marcus muttered.

You blinked. Aro was at least five thousand meaning that Marcus was Six, Caius being the youngest at three.

Aro speared the entire guard with a terrifyingly cold glare before flitting over to you, gripping your head back by your hair and sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck with a low growl.

The sentiment was well understood as the entire guard backed the fuck away from the dais— he closed the wound before his head shot up and he snarled at the coven tucking you into his embrace your face buried into his robes. “She is mine.” It was a quiet, soft voice that spoke.

“Aro.” you muffled tugging his sleeve and looking up at him.

He showed you “what he had seen and tilted his head. Would you mind cara?”

You lit the bastard on fire with a scowl aimed at the body winding your arms about Aro’s waist and nuzzling into his solid form.

A soft kiss in your hair, his body relaxing. “That’s my bambi.”

———

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Aro although he is lithe and tall….he’s not exactly easy to handle.

9” decent width, knows how to use it.

Be forewarned, he knows what he’s doing.

Tactile Telepathy, good luck remember to keep your head on straight.

————

———

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s less of a wistful like of yearning.

And more a burning bonfire of desire always in the wing of his mind ready to take over the forefront.

One glance at you and he wants you— granted he thinks it might cool down over the centuries but when you look at him like that and bite your lip and grin.

Nah.

Nope. This isn’t going away. Not at all.

He of course has excellent control so he is able to push other desires to the back of his mind, but once finished you are certainly at the front of the line.

Super high.

You both are insane.

You can be sitting reading and next moment with one small brush you’re gone from the library and you’ve tackled him through the doors of your rooms and pinned him to the floor.

Insatiable.

Good luck!

————

———

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Aro LOVES resting with you.

He likes to just lay with his hands on your body and watching your thoughts, you’re his favorite mind to go through and he just adores it.

You both can spend hours like this if you were allowed—

He likes when you drag your fingers through his hair.

Makes him melt.

Kiss across his eyes and kiss his hands as he brushes your mouth with his fingers trying to learn you all over again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.” He murmurs to you lazily. He has you nestled in his arms your head tucked under his jaw.

“That’s fucking fine by me.” You giggle.

He rolls his eyes and huffs a soft laugh kissing the top of your head. “Of course she swears like a sailor…”

#aro volturi

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philliamwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.2]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 6.7k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Chapter 02: The Herald of Dawn

Hold me, O Night, with motherly affection, While the wan earth wakes with a misty yawn. By my blood will be born the Dawn and from my fleeting dream—the undying sun!

[Gabriele D’Annunzio]

Hushed whispers wake you from the dark. The crackling of fire sweeps away the last remains of weary unconsciousness, and you blink at a tent's ceiling. Someone draped heavy blankets over you, and with every breath you exhale, puffy white clouds rise up. The shadows of a fire dance across the walls, their blurry movements flush another wave of dizziness over you, and as you sit up, you notice a tight feeling around your head. When you raise a hand to your forehead, there is a bandage sitting tightly wrapped around your head, covering your right eye. The pain has finally stopped, but it still feels dully raw, like an injury that hasn’t healed properly and serves now as a reminder of anguish.

The memories from the battle rush back to you, the sound of metal hitting metal and heavy bodies dropping to the ground echo in your mind. Death was nothing new to the soldiers and mercenaries, so how come you don’t feel particularly sorry for the fallen? You’re no soldier, at least that’s what every fibre of your body tells you, so normalising killing isn’t right. You rebuild your surety of that, one shaky brick at a time.

Once on your feet, you make your way outside, drawn in by the smell of cooked meat and quiet chatter. The sight of a small camp greets you: more tents build a row on this side of the camp, and in the centre, solders sit around a small fire, their voices barely audible. They lean over a steaming kettle, their weapons at their feet or beside tree trunks—laid down for the night but still within reach.

“Heey, you’re finally back with us!” Claude’s voice rings through the camp, and several heads turn in your direction. As he waves for you to join him, you duck your head and move quickly to his side, wishing you could just merge with the ground and disappear from everyone’s attention. “Little one, you got us worried there,” he says. On his knees, he’s balancing a steaming wooden bowl, and the sight and smell reminds you how hungry you are. Your stomach agrees by providing a low growl.

“How long have I been out?” You barely recognise your own voice, the sound rough from exhaustion. Claude hums in thought and gestures with one hand to a soldier to bring you food, while his other pats the ground beside him for you to sit down. “We managed to march a couple of hours after cleaning up the mess from the battle. Right now we’re near the edge of the forest. There should be only one more day of marching until we reach the monastery.”

“And you guys are sure they can help me up there?” you wonder, watching the first group of soldiers get ready for the night watch. They’re frighteningly young, jostling and bumping into each other, laughing and stamping their feet against the cold snap that still lingers, the last gasp of winter before spring begins in earnest.

“If not there, I’m not sure there’s anyone out there who can help you.”

You glare at Claude. “Surely you must be the voice of confidence in this merry bunch, right?”

He laughs. “I’m the closest you’ll get to an optimist around here.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Reassuring is my second name.”

“No, you said it’s von,” you mumble. Claude stares at you for a long minute, then bursts out laughing, the sound dark and rich. “No, that’s a noble prefix. You don’t even remember that?”

You open your mouth, and close it like a fish, feeling your cheeks raise in temperature. He shouldn’t make you feel guilty for forgetting something like that, and yet the shame settles in your bones and you want to smack your head against something to help your brain remember.

“Ah, but pardon my rudeness,” Claude purrs and gives you a mock bow. “I can tell you everything you want to know about nobility and how overrated it is. In fact, I might as well convince you to join the Alliance before Their Highnesses steal you to their side.”

“I’m not going to be on anyone’s side,” you mumble, and steal Claude’s blanket as payback, relishing in his offended expression. “It has nothing to do with me.”

Claude raises an eyebrow. “Ehh, I’m not so sure it’s that easy.”

“It is,” you insist, unable to hide the sulk from your voice. “Because I say so.”

Claude raises both eyebrows. “That’s not how it works.”

“Watch me.”

Something like a shadow flashes across his emerald eyes, but it disappears quickly enough for you to think it’s only the light from the campfire playing a trick on you. “We’ll see about that.” He scrapes the remaining contents from his bowl and lets out a satisfying yawn when he’s finished, stretching his long limbs like a cat getting comfortable. “Sooo,” he starts, unnecessarily dragging out the vowel and the sound of it locks up your shoulders into one tense muscle in preparation of what he’s going to say next. “Care to explain what happened back there?”

You take a deep breath. “You mean when it felt like my eye was going to fall out of its socket?”

“Actually I meant when you tripped over that one root after we found you.” He gives you a crooked grin. “But that’s interesting too, please go on.”

“I thought no one saw that,” you mumble, and avoid his gaze as you remember that stupid root that nearly broke your neck. Well, Claude surely knows a thing or two about tricking someone into talking about exactly what he wants to hear.

You thank the mercenary that brings you food, and notice it’s the one from the battle with the crooked nose. He gives you a just as crooked grin and limps back to his comrades. The stew warms your chilled bones, the rich flavour of meat and vegetables lifting your spirits and filling you with energy. As you eat, you drag out the minutes but Claude doesn’t even squirm as you let him wait, and starts whistling an off-key tune until you start to feel uncomfortable.

“Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t be afraid that it might happen again,” you admit begrudgingly. “Because that was scary.”

“Yeah, it didn’t really look like fun,” Claude agrees. “But what was it in the first place?”

“I don’t know.” You start to become weary of those words. “But it hurt.”

Claude gives you a sympathetic look, and goes silent, allowing you to eat, but you can’t shake off the feeling his mind is still trying to figure out what’s the deal with you. He can, for all you care. And once he’s done, he can write a report and hand it right to you so you’ll understand as well.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice someone moving towards you. Dimitri approaches you with caution like you’re a small animal he might scare off with hasty movements. But the look he gives Claude is that of a disappointed father, and he shakes his head once he’s standing in front of him. “Claude, we were supposed to not disturb our guest,” Dimitri says sternly, then bows his head in your direction. “Apologies. We should let you rest.”

“No, it’s okay,” you admit, and shuffle a little to the side to make room. “Please stay.”

Both boys exchange a quick look, but then Dimitri sits down, minding a polite distance unlike Claude who only needs to stretch his legs for his feet touch your knee.

“We were worried,” Dimitri starts. Just like Claude, he’s taken off most of his armour, and nothing about him stands out as a member of the royalty. He looks just like any other boy, and you’d never admit it out loud, but you already miss the blue tones on his uniform, the colour making his remarkably ice-blue eye stand out even more. “Luckily we could dispose of all bandits and return to a safe area. Byleth carried you here all by herself.”

��Yeah, remind me not get on her bad side, okay?” Claude laughs, but you think you hear a slight nervous tremble in his voice. “She looks like she can decapitate me with a butter knife.”

“She doesn’t look like it. She very certainly will behead you with a butter knife,” Dimitri provides with a pleasant smile as if he’s talking about the weather.

“See, and that’s why she fits best in the Alliance,” Claude says, winking at you. “We’re always full of surprises.”

Dimitri rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his broad chest. “You might try it. I personally plan to convince her to join the Kingdom.”

“I think you’re both too late for that,” you say as you look to the other side of the camp where Byleth and Edelgard are currently engaged in a deep conversation, their heads leaning close to each other. Claude groans miserably, but quickly recovers as he turns to you, his eyes brightening up with excitement. “It’s okay, because once my disarming charm has wrapped you around my little finger, I’ll have an impressive tactician on my side.”

You almost choke on your next spoon of stew. “Tactician? I wouldn’t go that far.”

Beside you, Dimitri clears his throat. “Though I have to question Claude’s way of persuasion, I must admit he isn’t wrong about the latter. What you did back there was impressive.”

“I really didn’t do anything special,” you mumble at the same time Claude raises both hands leisurely and says, “Hey, it’s not my problem you think you’re immune to it, Your Princeliness.”

Dimitri grumbles something in a foreign language under his breath. Grinning smugly, Claude turns to you, and nudges your side. “Have confidence, little one. They’ll teach you everything you need to know up there.” He points up towards a mountain where you’ll apparently be heading tomorrow. If you squint, you think you can make out lights in the horizon brightening the night sky.

“That monastery,” you say, trying to ignore how Claude’s body radiates heat. “What exactly is that place? I’ve never heard of a monastery that holds a school. I think,” you quickly add, unsure what thoughts provided by your hazy mind are facts.

“The Officers Academy is a facility where students learn the arts of warfare, magic, and leadership,” Dimitri explains. He’s very obviously trying not to look at Claude, which in return has Claude’s grin widening even more. “The lessons provide us with everything we need as upcoming heads of our families. Swordsmanship, sorcery, authority, the history of our continent. There is much to learn for everyone attending the classes.”

“So it’s a death factory,” you translate, the sudden bitter taste in your mouth overshadowing the taste of the stew. “How can they just teach that stuff like it’s normal?”

“You saw it yourself, didn’t you.” Claude stretches his long limbs and leans back until he props his body up on his elbows. “Bandits and thieves everywhere.”

“And most students come from a noble house,” Dimitri adds. “They need to be taught how to take command, and about the responsibilities coming with leadership.”

You blow a strand of hair away from your face, mood dropped now that you know where you’ll be from tomorrow on. “This doesn’t sound right.” Though you can’t really say how a school is supposed to be instead. This is a world with different rules, and you aren’t sure if it’ll be easy to accommodate to them.

While the boys bicker how good the plot of the tale mentioned earlier really is, you see Byleth approaching. A bruise is forming on her left cheek, and she holds her arm as if bearing the pain from a wound. But nothing of that is portrayed on her face, as if her brain hasn’t registered she’s wounded yet and hence doesn’t need to express it.

“How are you?” she asks, sending the boys a quick look. Dimitri and Claude climb to their feet and wish their good nights with a quick bow. They hurry to Edelgard and gang up on heir, probably interrogating her about the conversation she's had with Byleth.

“I’m better,” you say, a little surprised you actually mean it. You feel refreshed and nourished, ready for another day of walking. Byleth sits down and watches the camp for a moment in silence. The chaos from before has settled into a quiet hum. Men and women sit together in little circles and tell their glorious battle stories with boisterous laughter, selling the illusion of a victorious life. But that might easily end the next day because of a hasty recklessness. No one thinks of that. Everyone is just celebrating, reaching for flasks and living in the moment. It’s a beautiful sight.

As the buzzing sound of people chatting subsides and the first turn in for the night, Byleth turns towards you, her voice lowered. “What you did back there,” she starts, and for whatever reason remains silent as if she decided talking about it isn’t a good idea. Shadows from the weakened fire dance across her face, and again you’re flooded with the unfathomable feeling of familiarity. It’s in the sharp lines of her face, the way her eyes move and settle on something as she observes her surroundings. It’s almost a painful sense of nostalgia. Something about this woman just brings you an unusual amount of ease, like it doesn’t really matter who you are, and rather that you’re here that makes the difference.

Before you can stop your brain, you’re already asking, “Do we know each other by chance?”

Byleth looks at you for a long minute, then slowly shakes her head, and you try not to show your disappointment too much. “I’ve travelled a lot with my father,” she says. “We’ve come through many lands and villages. You may have seen me at some point, but we’ve never exchanged a word until yesterday.”

You nod at the plausible explanation, but the feeling that this isn’t the right answer curls like a hook into your heart. “And your father hasn’t said anything about me as well?”

“No.” Byleth’s eyes follow your hands as they set down the empty bowl. Seeing that you’ve finished everything, she nods in approval. “And he doesn’t forget a face.”

“How do you all just … trust me,” you wonder, looking to where Jeralt is miserably leaning against a tree trunk as Alois keeps talking and talking. He looks like he wishes someone would take him down with an arrow.

“He doesn’t,” Byleth says. “And he calls me a little whippersnapper for that. He hasn’t called me that in the five years.” At the sound of the smile in her voice you snap your head in Byleth’s direction, but when you look, she wears the same bland expression like before.

“But you do,” you start carefully, not trusting your ears again, so you settle on staring at her until she gives another emotion. “Care to explain why?”

“For now, you haven’t given me any reason not to,” she states as if it really were that simple. It couldn’t be. Up until now Byleth has been your only anchor that your meeting wasn’t purely coincidental—that the reason shrouding your memories would dissipate like the night once dawn breaks if you just stick to her side, and everything will be revealed in time. But now without anything to hold on to, you feel like you’re slipping deeper and deeper into an abyss from which you can’t ascend. This feeling is terror fizzing in your blood like poison, and you shudder at the thought that you’ll forever remain adrift.

“Your powers,” Byleth continues, unaware of your mental breakdown right next to her. “They’re unusual, and if you learn to use them right, very dangerous.” Spoken by everyone else, this might sound like a threat, but Byleth says it like a simple statement, a fact, unaware how much she tilts your world with it. “What do you plan to do with them?”

You don’t have to think long about it. “I won’t do anything. Whatever it was, it’s over,” you say and gesture at your bandaged eye. It’s true. Since you woke up, your eye has remained calm, no red veil or eery proclamation someone might step into the campfire and burn alive. The pounding has stopped, and the normalcy of it is like a soothing balm.

Byleth studies you. You really wish she could give you more than her vacant expression. “You don’t know yet … your eye.” She takes your spoon and with the end of it, she draws a symbol on the ground. “Do you know what that is?”

You look at it, but nothing comes to your mind. It’s just a four pointed star with two lines crossing the right and left tips. “No, I’ve never seen it.”

Byleth holds your gaze as if she hopes to find a lie written between your eyes, and this time you don’t look away until she relents with a barely audible sigh.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because before you passed out, it appeared here.” She taps a finger against her closed, right eye, then points at you. Your body goes rigid. Immediately, your hands fly up to tear off the bandage, but Byleth catches your wrists and holds them down. “Not yet.”

“I want to see it.” Your breath catches in your lungs. It sounds like you need air because you’re drowning. “I want it off. Take it off!”

“I can’t show you, there are no mirrors,” Byleth says quietly, and throws a quick glance around the camp to see if your panic has alarmed anyone. You want to point out that you could use the reflection of her sword, but maybe Byleth has considered the same and thought it a bad idea, because she doesn’t know what else you might do with a weapon in your current state. Seeing that fighting against the vice grip she has on your hands is futile, you slump down, your arms falling slack back to your side. “Just what… what is happening. What is that?”

“Edelgard said it might be a Crest, but none she or the others have seen before,” Byleth explains. “They told me there is a teacher at the monastery who studies Crests.” She gives your arms a barely noticeable squeeze before she lets go. “So it’s going to be okay.”

“How can you say that?” you nearly sob, and wish you could hold onto her longer as she stands up and brushes dirt off her uniform. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not,” Byleth says, giving you one last look. You want to tell yourself it’s something like worry you see in her eyes, but her expression remains blank, like a board that’s been wiped clean. “I can only hope.”

The next morning, Jeralt and Alois set an unforgiving pace, determined to reach the monastery shortly after dawn broke. While everyone else couldn’t wait to reach their home as fast as possible, you feel worry grow with every step up the hill towards the walls and towers. The monastery looms like a stronghold, a building so tall and intimidating, built to make people feel small.

You were allowed to take off the bandage, and there was nothing worse than knowing something was on your eye but you couldn’t see it. Unlike everyone else. They kept staring at you, mumbling to each other in quiet whispers, and more than once you considered telling them that just because your eye was different it didn’t mean you were blind. It was reason enough for you to put the bandage back on and stay away from the soldiers and mercenaries, leaving them to their superstitious rumours. Who could have thought that you’d grab someone else’s attention entirely with that revelation.

Even before the first sunbeams broke through the budding branches, the wind carrying the smell of spring and new life, Edelgard stuck to you like a tick. It wasn’t hard to find out she was more interested in your Crest than you as a person, and every question you couldn’t answer fuelled her irritation. Still she was nothing but determined to squeeze the tiniest information out of you, and even though you tried to avoid her by either marching way too fast or way too slow, Edelgard didn’t relent and remained by your side. Fear is a little exaggerated to describe what you feel towards her, but it's close. Whenever her sharp eyes focus on you, unease takes hold of your brain and the words leave your mouth as nervous stammers. It certainly doesn’t help that you know she can easily hack off a grown man’s arm without so much as blinking. Or that the corners of her mouth curl up into the sweetest, rare smile.

Once you’re on the trade road up to the monastery, pebble makes way to smooth cobblestone. Giant iron doors stand wide open, and as your group enters, a merchant’s cart rolls past you and greets the returning knights. After the first entrance point, the second waits in the form of a portcullis and more knights standing on guard. Past the second ring of walls, you enter a small forecourt. On both sides are stalls and booths with merchants screaming their prices and the sound of metal hammered into the right shape at the blacksmith’s. At the foot of wide stairs leading up into the first building, a man dressed in dark blue robes awaits you, his strong arms crossed behind his back.

“Welcome back,” he greets Alois and the students. “Your messenger bird has reached us yesterday late into the evening, and preparations have been made.” To Jeralt, he says, “My name is Seteth. I am an adviser to the archbishop. Lady Rhea awaits you.” Jeralt nods but he looks a lot more cautious since you’ve entered the monastery grounds. At the mention of that name, his posture visibly tenses, but he gestures to Byleth and you to follow him nonetheless.

“We shall return to our respectable classes for now and make known we are unscathed,” Dimitri says. “Please, Byleth, and you too, if things have calmed down, meet the other students as well, won’t you?”

“Ohh, good idea. You have to go around and introduce yourself as our great saviours.” Claude winks at you with both thumbs up. Edelgard slaps his hands back down.

“We’ll be standing here until evening if we don’t get going," she says. "Please give Lady Rhea our regards. We’ll report to her once everything is sorted out about you.” She eyes you sideways, then ushers the boys down another hall like a mother hen. You exchange a quick look with Byleth who already looks very exasperated with the student’s antics.

Seteth leads you into the Audience Chamber, a rectangular room with statues decorating the walls, and asks for you to wait. The moment he leaves the room, you turn towards Jeralt and Byleth and ask, “Who is this Lady Rhea?”

“I’m aware Byleth doesn’t know much about her, I haven’t taught her he teachings of Seiros, but you—” He stops mid sentence seeing the way you look at him, and clears his throat. “Lady Rhea is the archbishop of the Church of Seiros. She’s commanding the knights and sees that the people don’t do anything stupid in the name of Seiros.”

“Seiros?” you ask, turning the name in your head. Nope, nothing.

“You know, the one who defeated the King of Liberation and founded the Church of Seiros?” When you just shrug, Jeralt scratches his beard and hums in thought. “Well, I sure won’t be the one preaching what you should know or not. But maybe don’t make it all too obvious you aren’t a follower.”

Or what, you want to ask, but Seteth returns and he isn’t alone. The woman walking ahead of him looks like she belongs on the portrait of a saint. It isn’t much that she walks towards you, but rather strides in grateful steps to the middle of the room, her chin raised high and shoulders squared. And yet when she looks at your little assembly, her eyes are soft and kind, her expression open and friendly.

“I welcome you into these sacred halls,” she says, her voice like soothing velvet on your skin. “Alois informed me of what happened, and I thank every one of you for saving the students.” Lady Rhea smiles at you all separately. Her eyes linger on you, and she titles her head slightly. “I've also heard about the wondrous things that happened to you. Please, be so kind and remove the bandage. Let me take a look at this Crest.”

You hesitate, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. But Rhea waits patiently and raises a delicate hand when her advisor Seteth flinches to repeat her request. Slowly, you take the bandage off, barely able to imagine how the symbol or Crest as they call it looks upon your eye. When you meet Rhea's gaze again, her smile freezes, and her eyes widen in surprise. Her lips part slightly, then stretch into an ecstatic smile. Beside her, Seteth inhales sharply. “This is impossible,” he breathes, growing pale. You start to panic.

“Why, what's wrong with me? What is impossible?”

“Nothing, nothing is wrong,” Rhea quickly reassures you, but it's hard to believe when Seteth looks like he's seen a ghost. “A fortunate day indeed. Not only does one of the strongest knights to have ever walked these halls return, but it also seems that a new chapter of history dawns upon us.”

All eyes land on her, one more puzzled than the other. Even Seteth doesn’t look like he fully comprehends what’s happening. “Lady Rhea?” he asks cautiously at the same time as Jeralt demands, “What are you talking about?”

The archbishop ignores them both, and the longer she gives you that pleasant smile, the more unsettled you feel. “When Alois wrote about a Crest appearing on your body, I was not sure what to think of it. But now, I cannot hide my joy at the return of a Crest that we thought was lost to history.”

“I—I don’t know why I have it,” you quickly say, feeling you have to defend yourself before they accuse you of stealing it. Can Crests be stolen in the first place? “I don’t remember why I have it.”

Lady Rhea nods, her solemn expression making way to worry. “Of that Alois informed me as well. You may stay here until your memories return. Allow me for now to tell you about the Crest. Maybe that will dissipate some of the darkness shrouding your mind.”

You nod, and brace yourself for whatever she’ll reveal. It certainly helps that Byleth stands close to you, her mere presence a standing stone you can hold onto for now without drifting away.

“It is a Crest most uncommon,” Lady Rhea explains, her hands gracefully crossed in front of her. “For there was only one person who bore it. This Crest belonged to the very one who served our Lady Seiros against the evil powers that threatened Fódlan thousands of years ago. He was known as Seiros’ Champion. The Herald of Dawn.”

She allows those words to sink into you, and how deep they sink. Now that they’re out here, you feel like they pull you down, deeper down into a dark sea from which you can’t surface. The only result is drowning.

“Herald of … you don’t think. You can’t think—” Your thoughts move way too fast, you can’t grasp any to sort them.

“What I think means nothing in light of what has transpired and therefore is reality. You are chosen by the Goddess herself to bring hope to the people of Fódlan. You are the Herald of Dawn.”

You feel sick. It may be phantom pain, but you could swear your right eye starts hurting again, as if the Crest is reacting to the revelation, the call of its true nature. You dig your trembling fingers into the fabric of your jacket, considering for the tiniest second to gouge your eye out. Can’t be anyone’s champion or Herald without the Crest, right? “So, you’re saying … am I the one from back then? This Champion?” If you were really the same person, how were you still alive after a thousands of years? The prospect of finally having an identity is great, but you aren’t sure you’re ready to pay the price that comes with it. And this one seems to carry a very heavy price.

“That seems quite impossible.” This time Seteth speaks up. He looks just as unnerved by this revelation as you feel. “The Herald appeared when Saint Seiros was in dire need, and once his duty was fulfilled, he vanished. ”

“But now, another Herald has come, and with you the promise of suffering and hardships,” Rhea explains, her expression now strict and foreboding. “The task of giving hope is the most difficult to ask of a person. But that is the path the Goddess has chosen for you.”

“No, no, you’re wrong. I’m no Herald … and certainly no Champion of anyone. I can’t give people hope, I don’t even know what to give them hope for!” Your voice borders on hysteric, but you’ve never been more determined to plead your case. “I’m not the right person. I’m really not.”

“Then how come you bear the Crest of Seiros’ Champion, my child?” Lady Rhea asks, and you notice the tiny shift in her voice. The kindness grows thiner and thiner, and in its place austerity and even coldness settle—the voice of authority and undeniable command. “It is Our Goddess’ will. The Church of Seiros needs you. The people of Fódlan need you. You cannot turn away from your Fate.”

You want to argue that yes, you can; you’ll turn around and leave this place filled with crazy people and their fanatic beliefs. One look from Byleth stops your thoughts. Lady Rhea interprets this silence as compliance, and nods, visibly pleased. “We have waited for this opportunity for so long,” she continues, now smiling again. “There shall be festivities today. As a welcome to our Herald, and the return of Blade Breaker Jeralt. For you, his daughter, we have also thought of a task that will greatly help Garreg Mach.”

Jeralt grunts, clearly unhappy, but Byleth only cocks her head to one side. You’re astonished that after everything, she’s still awfully calm and collected.

“A teaching position has become free as of yesterday,” Lady Rhea explains to Byleth. “By Alois' recommendation, you are to take that position and teach one of the Houses here at the Officers Academy. Your colleagues will provide you with further information. As for you,” and you flinch when she turns to you, afraid what else she has in store, “you too shall teach the students the course of leadership and command. Seiros’ Champion was a great tactician. He honed Saint Macuil’s abilities. I would not be surprised if you too show an unparallelled gift for strategy.”

“Well,” you start, but the hesitation is clear, and Lady Rhea smiles like she knows what you can do once the Crest is activated. “Whereas you are to choose one house,” she tells Byleth, “the Herald will hold seminars. As a servant of the Church, you cannot call in favourites.”

“I don’t even know what to teach,” you mumble weakly. “How to teach.”

“Me neither,” Byleth says, the first time she’s spoken since entering the Audience Chamber. The amusement glinting in Lady Rhea’s eyes is like the sun reflected on a purling river. “Do not worry,” she says. “You will learn in time. And we are here to help you as well.”

On your lips lie the words that they certainly didn’t help you. You came here so they could help to search for a way to return your memory.

Instead, they made everything worse.

The ceremonial robes hang heavy over your shoulders. The feast hasn’t started yet, but you’re already sweating and panting with the weight of the golden embroidery and the head piece decorating your forehead. When Seteth brought everything in a couple of hours ago, he was grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, at his side a little girl who, unlike him, was happy to meet you and to see that you’d take on the role as the Herald. You wanted to tell Flayn there was a difference between want and have to, but she was already focused on helping you dress and prepare for the festivities. Servants handled the remaining tasks of making you presentable, and now you’re standing in front of a giant mirror, observing yourself.

It was scary how things changed so fast. Not even 24 hours ago, you were a nobody, a nameless figure roaming the woods, and now there is a name that isn’t your own—no, not a name. A title. A title that will all but replace your name. History won’t remember you as a person, they will remember the deeds that you’ve done, the mistakes that you’ll commit. Lady Rhea spoke of honour like it’s a crown on your head, but you see the noose that it really is around your throat. The head piece feels too heavy, and the golden necklace sitting on your neck reminds you more of a dog collar.

There’s a knock on your door. Seteth said that someone would get you before everything starts, and you don’t even try to hide the relieved sob when Byleth enters the room. She examines you from head to toes, and leans her head to the side, one finger on her chin. “You look … different,” she says.

“You mean ridiculous.” You move your arms, demonstrating how the wide sleeves flap uselessly at your side. “I wish we could do this all without me looking like a sack of potatoes.”

“I had to think of cabbages, but you aren’t wrong either.” She crosses the room and looks outside the window. You can already hear the masses as they enter the Cathedral, and it does nothing to calm your haywire nerves. Byleth seems to notice as much. She turns to you, and asks, “How are you holding up?”

“Do you want the real answer or the one I prepared for Lady Rhea?”

Byleth raises a brow.

“Not good. I’m just … how could this happen?” You throw up your hands in frustration, and the robes give a dangerous tearing sound. Your arms fall immediately down, the thought of damaging a hundreds of years old ceremonial robe the last thing you need today. “Of all the things, how could I suddenly become some figure of the Church.”

“Is it so hard to believe that the Goddess of Fódlan has lead you to this path?” Byleth crosses her ams and leans against the wall next to the window, eyeing you curiously.

“I don’t even believe in this Goddess,” you groan, flopping on your bed. The chambers chosen for you overlook the bridge leading to the Cathedral where people swarm inside like little ants returning to their anthill. It was a small room equipped with all necessities for comfort but no additional expenses on luxury. A bed, a dresser, a simple table and chair, a mirror, and a shelf take up all the space. Not that you could have brought anything with you.

You look up at Byleth and dread the next question. “Do you believe in it?” you ask. “That I’m someone chosen?”

“Hmm.” Byleth casts one last glance outside, then pushes off the wall, gesturing you to follow her. You sigh, and mentally prepare yourself for what will happen in the Cathedral. Before you leave the room, Byleth rests her hand on the door handle and looks back at you over her shoulder. “I don’t know. Where I’m from, belief doesn’t save you from the sword of a thief. Only deeds and actions. It’s the reason my father and I are still alive.” She considers you for a moment, and when you blink you imagine you see the tiniest smile on her face. “What you did yesterday was very much real to me. Maybe a Goddess guided you, maybe it was just lucky instinct. But you saved my life, and that certainly is something I can rely on.”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, and swings the door open. You quickly follow, your steps feeling a lot lighter than before. “I guess I’m just frustrated,” you admit, carefully paying attention your voice isn’t too loud. “That they think there’s someone who can just decide how my life is going to be. Like this herald business suddenly defies who I am.”

“As long as you don’t forget who you are, does it matter?” Byleth wonders aloud, turning down another corridor that ends in stairs leading down. “As long as there is just one person who doesn’t forget, does it really matter?”

Maybe not to her, but for some inexplicable reason, it means a great deal to you. So you answer with a grumble, and Byleth hums like she knows she’s right. To change the subject, you ask, “What about you? How can you just follow along with being a teacher here?”

“Truth be told, I’m not happy,” Byleth says, nodding to the knights standing on guard in the first floor that leads outside. “But at the same time I can see Lady Rhea’s reasoning. Those students need someone who teaches them not to be stupid on the real battlefield. Especially when they are to be future rulers of Fódlan. If I’m the one shaping those little whippersnappers, I can rest at ease.”

You follow her down the hallways, staying silent until, “Whippersnapper is such a weird word,” you say.

Byleth gives a huff of air that barely passes as a chuckle. “It is.”

Together you leave the living quarters and enter the Cathedral at the backside where everything is closed off for the rest of the people. Lady Rhea and Seteth are already waiting for you, both dressed in equally complicated robes as you.

“Thank you, Professor.” Lady Rhea nods towards Byleth, who nods back and joins the other teachers. “And now, Herald, it is time to meet the sheep you shall shepherd from today on. Please, follow me.”

She doesn’t give you time to prepare for the crowd waiting for you, and glancing at Seteth for help doesn’t do anything either as he just crudely nods towards Lady Rhea, telling you to go along. You square your shoulders and hope for the best.

The Cathedral has been decorated with candles and tapestry showing the banner of the Church of Seiros and above it the Crest of the Herald. A platform has been built for your entrance, and stepping on it, your gaze roams over all the assembled students, clergy, and knights. Seeing them, you feel terror seize your body, locking up all muscles. The masses look at you with hunger in their eyes, ready to devour you like you’re the last piece of bread on the table. “Herald, Herald! ” they cry, and each time they open their mouths, the noose tightens around your neck. Saint and Martyr vaguely dance at the edges of your mind, beyond your grasp, mocking how you know them but don’t understand their very being. This is bigger than you. This is far bigger than you can manage, and you want to run away and hide from their greedy eyes.

Scanning the crowd, you notice the house leaders in the far back. Edelgard looks unpleased, her mouth set into a grim line, while Dimitri claps politely with the rest, and Claude raises a golden cup in mocking salute. You really want to break down and cry. The only solid point is Byleth, has always been Byleth up until now, at the other end of the room, holding your gaze steadfast like a pillow of strength in troubled waters.

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missturtleduck · 4 years ago

Note

idk if this can be triggering but can you maybe do a sokka x reader who’s struggling with mental health? those fics make me feel less alone <33

Hey, anon! I hope you enjoy this oneshot, and know that my DMs are always open <3

The After

Sokka x Reader

TW: Descriptions of panic attacks + mentions of canon realistic injuries

Firebenders rise with the sun. Taking from the power its primal energy, they stayed as close to it as they could get, like child to mother. Waterbenders gained strength under the moon, changing and shifting with its phases as easily as the tides flowed. Earthbenders and airbenders were luckier as they were constantly surrounded by the source of their power, and yet it could be taken away.

Y/N rose when all others were asleep.

It had started at the beach house. Before Ozai was thrown to rot in a jail cell, she couldn’t let herself sleep. Something about staying right under the enemy’s nose made her skin crawl, let alone in one of the beds once occupied by them. The nightmares were horrendous that first night, leaving her to wake in a cold sweat, stifling a scream for everyone else’s sake. Her chest had tightened, throat constricting as if she were being crushed by a python. Y/N’s head went light, and her breathing shallow. Spirits, what was happening?

She needed to get out of there. The white sand under her bare feet grounded her, the salt-scented air opening up her airways. Even Momo, who snuffled from under the duvet to follow her out, licked the tears off of her cheeks, staring at her with those massive, inquisitive eyes. Giggling, Y/N scratched his head, focusing on his purrs.

A solution came to mind; she would stay awake whilst her friends slept. If she was awake, she could prevent them being ambushed, ensure their survival and victory. So, every night, Y/N and Momo sat on the stairs to the beach house, weapons in hand. Under a blanket of starlight, illuminated by Yue’s gentle glow, she would stay until Zuko awoke where she would creep back to bed and catch an hour or two. The beach was lovely to sleep on too, Y/N convincing her friends she was just relaxed.

The oncoming battle was insane, but they made it.

Y/N came out mostly unscathed. Her only physical scars were the burns along her forearms, trophies from her glorious victories against Fire Nation soldiers. Everything was fine – great, even. However, when it came to staying within the walls of Zuko’s palace, other scars came to light.

“Y/N?”

She looked up from her seat on Zuko’s doorstep, eyes glazed over and not quite focused. Taking a moment, the blue in her vision and the low, concerned voice was all she needed to work out who it was.

“Hey, Sokka.” Y/N quirked a smile, resting her cheek against the heel of her hand. “What’re you doing up?”

“I could ask the same of you,” He said, raising an eyebrow.

Patting the floor next to her, Y/N welcomed him to join her. As soon as Sokka was sat by her, her head tilted until it rested on his shoulder, her body relaxing in a sigh that took with it all of her energy. Frowning, he wrapped an arm around her, chin atop her head until they were practically tangle.

Sokka was warm, warm enough to sooth her into something close to sleep. Beneath closing, fluttering lashes, Y/N watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, moving past his still broadening shoulders to look at the gardens. It was later than she had thought as she looked at the turtle ducklings snuggled up with each other on the grass, their mother close by. The way the turtle duck stayed only inches from its children, half-awake and protective.

Y/N shot up. “I can’t fall asleep.”

“What do you mean?” Sokka yawned, nuzzling his head against her neck. “I could fall asleep right here.”

“No!” She shoved off of him, unsheathing her blade. “I can’t fall asleep, because if I do, Zuko’s in danger! The Kyoshi Warriors aren’t here yet, and I’m not risking his safety again!”

Sokka’s eyes widened as he rose slowly to his feet, hands out. “Okay, Y/N. We can stay here if you want, but you don’t need your sword out.”

Breathing hard, she absorbed the emotions on her friend’s face, realising the fear in it. Clattering to the floor, the sword slipped from Y/N’s hand as she began to tremble. As tears began to pour, Y/N couldn’t reach for the Ember Island sand, nor the open sky, and not even Momo. A crushing pressure pushed on her chest, leaving her gasping for breath that seemed stolen from her. Seeing how her hands shook, she looked at Sokka.

“I’m so tired, Sokka.”

Stepping towards her, he tested the waters, placing a hand on her shoulder. With no outwardly negative reaction to it, Sokka engulfed Y/N into a hug. Gripping his shirt into her hands, she shook out shallow breaths, trying to ground herself as she focused on the feelings around her. Sokka’s gentle hand threading through her hair was rhythmic, methodical even, and the shirt on his chest was soft in her grip.

As her breathing levelled, Sokka pulled away from their embrace, taking a gentle hand to cup her cheek. Brushing away stray tears with his thumb, he studied her face with such care. Y/N stifled a giggle.

“What?” He grinned at her. “You don’t laugh at my jokes, but you’ll laugh now?” Leaning into his hand, Y/N gave him a watery smile. “I’ve never seen you so careful with something that isn’t your boomerang.”

Sokka gasped, scandalised. “I am very careful, I’ll have you know.”

“I’ve seen you walk into a canal because you were too busy impressing a girl.”

“That was different,” He huffed, crossing his arms and leaving her cheek feeling suddenly cold. “I can be careful whilst impressing a girl.”

Y/N sniffed. “Oh, yeah? Prove it.”

His grin made her wonder whether she should have challenged Sokka, but it was too late as he hoisted her up into his arms, protests or weight be damned. Since his broken leg had healed, and he had more time to grow into his shoulders, he had only gotten stronger, and Y/N had only gotten more bashful about the fact it was harder to see him as just a friend.

The guards seemed unwavering at the sight, Y/N only catching a single smirk as she was carried away from Zuko’s quarters and towards the kitchens. Only when Sokka had decided the coast was clear did he finally put her down, placing her up on one of the countertops.

“What are we doing here?” Y/N asked, going to slide down to the floor.

Sokka’s hand stopped her, firm on her knee. “You haven’t been sleeping properly, so I’m gonna make us some tea!”

“You? Tea?”

“Yeah,” He said, hand still on her as he rummaged through shelves of dried herbs. “Iroh taught Zuko, who taught Katara, who ranted to me a lot about some medical nonsense, but I picked some stuff up.”

“Please don’t poison us,” She laughed, placing a daring hand over his.

He looked up at her, deadly serious. “No promises.”

Snorting a laugh, Y/N pushed down the clingy need to whine as he moved away from her, watching Sokka begin to heat tea. In the water, he strained some brown roots and dried purple flowers into the water. It didn’t look like poison, and it certainly didn’t smell like it. Nevertheless, she found some joy watching him focus on the tea, tongue stuck out to the side as he did.

After a few minutes, Sokka had served the tea in cups he had swiped from another cupboard. Tapping their cups together, they both took a sip.

“It’s certainly...” Y/N grasped for a word, “Memorable.”

“It’s not as good as Iroh’s, that’s for sure,” Sokka frowned, but still sipping at the tea.

“I like it,” She beamed, basking in the warmth of the herbal blend.

The smile on his face made her comment worthwhile. Tentative, he took a step towards her, placing his cup down at her side. “Do you feel better?”

“A little bit,” She said, looking down into the remains of her tea.

“I know you haven’t been sleeping properly for a while, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

Y/N startled. “W-what do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m not just a pretty face,” Sokka smirked, though it fell into concern near immediately. “Do you not remember ending up in your bed every time you fell asleep on the beach?”

Huh. She did remember that.

“I’d always assumed I had made my own way there and was too tired to remember.”

There was that hand again, soft against her cheek. “I’m not gonna leave my best girl to sleep on sand.”

“Oh.”

“Hey.” His voice brought her gaze to his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded. His lips ghosted hers. The kiss tasted of bitter valerian root and was all the sweeter for it. She leaned into the warmth of his touch, feeling more content then than she had in months. Smiling against his lips, Y/N snaked her hand up the back of his head to untangle his hair from its wolf tail, running her fingers through it. Sokka only seemed more enthusiastic as he pulled her closer until she was flat against him on the very edge of the counter.

For a moment, he pulled away, and she couldn’t help the small whine that escaped her lips. “You need to sleep.”

“What?” She barked out a laugh. “You go from kissing me to saying I should go to sleep? I wasn’t that bad.”

“No! No, no, no,” Sokka said, panic overtaking his face. “I just worry about you, Y/N.”

Nuzzling into his neck, she grinned. “I could sleep right here.”

“Could we at least move to somewhere comfier?” He whined, wrapping his arms around her. “My room has a sofa I could take.”

Y/N looked at him. “And a double bed.”

With a low laugh, Sokka pecked a kiss on her nose. “Sure.”

Despite the laughs - and the kisses - Sokka made it known that he could be her safe space, and was happy to be it for her.

#anon request #anon #sokka x reader #sokka #zuko #post-atla #angst #fluff #happy ending #the after #mental health #self care #missturtleduck

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eroticintestines · 4 years ago

Note

OH CRap I forgot to add that I wanted the Tick HC to be an x reader, I'm very sorry about that :' ) could the reader be gender neutral-? :0

That's okay!! I've never written for Tick before, so I hope this isn't too bad! Also, of course, all of my stories are gender neutral in general!

(Thank you for your nice message btw!!)

💣🖤( 𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 )🖤💣

-Yet another ray of sunshine. He really chases the clouds away with his silly little noises and permanent grin.

-Since he can't communicate any anyway else but with random robot noises, his confessions are a bit wonky, and he has to show affection in different ways.

-But that's just his speciality! He always figures out just how to tell you he absolutely adores you.

-With that being said, the day he confessed was more of a mere accident. Well, a lucky accident.

-Pam is the one who designs all the robots in Brawltown(except Darryl, that guy just showed up out of nowhere),and let's Jessie decorate them if she wants to.

-So of course Jessie was feeling really creative one day, but she chose the completely wrong day; Valentines.

-She caught Tick staring at you multiple times that day by accident. She was just walking around town, looking at all the lovely decorations and couples holding hands, when she stumbled on the little robot staring at you from around the corner.

-You were really caught up in your tea and your conversation with Penny, so you didnt notice him all the way from the cafe.

-The poor little robot looked almost sad, he really felt as if you had no interest in him at all.

-Jessie being the genious she is, noticed it immediately, and decided to make a plan. She invited Tick over for a movie, but she demanded to see some of Tick's bombs.

-Tick proudly fired a single bomb out of his canon, handing it over to Jessie and making sure it doesnt explode. She took it in her hand and pulled out her paint and brushes.

-Tick watched with great curiosity as she painted a single heart on it, putting it on the shelf next to her and saying "Just for memories!". She winked at him with a huge grin.

-When the movie was over, Tick left and Jessie was once again left alone. She quickly took out a paper and a pen and wrote down a love letter. To whom, you ask? To you, of course!

-She made sure to sign Tick under it with as many colours as she could, drawing some hearts around the words for a better effect. She took the bomb Tick gave her with her, making sure nobody saw the redhead sneaking over to your house and ringing the doorbell. She left the gift at your doorstep and bolted to her hiding spot.

-When you opened the door you were confused. You saw the gift and it took you about 15 seconds to realise that it was a bomb. Of course you got scared, thinking it was going to explode, but when you didnt hear any sort of ticking, you calmed down.

-You recognised that it was Tick's bomb. You smiled softly, looking at the heart drawn on it. When you opened the letter and read it, you couldn't help but feel bashful.

-The letter just about complimented everything about you, and it nearly made you tear up. You knew Tick didnt write this himself, but it still meant a hell of a lot that his signature was at the bottom of it.

-You left your house with the same grin you had at the beginning, searching for the little love struck robot. When you found him, he was having a 'conversation' with Gene. They apparenlty understood eachother.

-You approached him, patting his head lightly to gain his attention. He looked up at you, his eyes suddenly sparking. You kneeled down to him and pressed a soft kiss on the top of his head. "I'm not sure who helped you confess, but I'm glad they did," you told him.

-Tick looked at the letter and bomb in your hand, suddenly realising what happened. He hid his head in his body, smoke coming out of him. You chuckled softly, patting his shoulder. "Hey, buddy, I like you too you know."

-He made sure to pay Jessie a visit that day.

-He was a shy boy when you confessed, but after you two got into a relationship, he finally came out of his shell. You gave him confidence to be what he wanted to be. He was always seen as some stupid little machine, but after he found someone who loved him the way you do, he knew he was worth loving.

-He likes to sneak into your lap and sleep there like a cat. He also purrs! It's a secret trait of his that only you know. So go along, pet him!

-He doesn't need to sleep like any other robots, so he usually stays up when you sleep. That can lead to a lot of 'accidents'. You make sure to lock the kitchen whenever you sleep.

-There's a lot of trust in your relationship. He's a fragile little guy, so he values the fact you trust him with things that could possibly send him to Pam's office.

-Even though you can't help but worry he might hurt himself one day. You protect him in matches all the time. It only took you one good look at Bull absolutely demolishing Tick in a duo to make sure you're always by his side.

-He loves animals! His favourite are hamsters. The apartment you share with him is filled with hamsters.

-He tends to accidentally shoot his bombs out of his canon when he gets too excited, but thankfully they rarely go off.

-You took up knitting at some point and made him a scarf, since he always wears one. He was really glad about it.

-Like I mentioned, he shows affection with his action rather than words. He hugs your legs out of the blue, wants you to pick him up, brings you various items from his adventures with Darryl, Penny and Poco, practically demands Jessie to paint your name on his canons...He's practically melting when you compliment him on his commitment.

🐁🐁🐁

#brawl stars x reader #brawl stars #brawl stars tick #request

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secret-engima · 5 years ago

Text

nammuellyll

@secret-engima congrats, you woke the monster. ardyn in my hero academia. there. go wild.

Me: MWAHAHAHAHA. You say that like I regret it >:DDD

-Ardyn in this wakes up post The Great Stabbing and is ... more than a little annoyed. Hello. He wanted the afterlife experience. HELLO WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS DESTINY OF FADING TO COSMIC DUST.

-But no. Apparently he gets to have a “second chance” to “be a hero”.

-Just let one of the Astrals show themselves, he’ll show where to put that “second chance”-.

-Anyway. Ardyn is Ardyn, he looks like he did in canon but he’s sane again. Oddly enough he’s still got both his armiger magic, his super healing, and some of his scourge-like abilities (scary face included). He’s not corrupted tho. Ardyn isn’t sure what to make of that.

-Goes and hobos around for a while, getting used to this world and the fact that everyone looks like a storybook encounter with cursed items gone wrong. Picks up a Smol Traumatized Child that can disintegrate things with his fingers off the streets because Why Not, Let’s Both Be Homeless Together Kiddo, then in short order gets himself known as a Major Villain when he finds a trafficking ring and, since Ardyn is Not Exactly Moral Even If Arguably Sane, he slaughters them to the last man.

-Ardyn is known on the news via grainy footage that only catches glimpses of his scourge face and a lot of rumor, he laughs his head off when the ONE soundbite they manage to get from the scene leads to his being named Adagium. AGAIN. Okay he walked into that one.

-Uses the resources of the no-longer-operational trafficking ring to set up a nice restaurant bar with a secret (illegal) clinic in the back. He makes dishes exclusively from his original time period and so the food is known as very eccentric but good. Ardyn rapidly gets the wackiest duel rep in history. To the mainstream/police/pro heroes he’s a shadowy super-murderer named Adagium. To the underworld and the homeless, the quirkless and the children, Adagium is a name that means hope and shelter, healing and comfort and a monster that protects its own rather than giving meaningless promises, all in exchange for simple favors like clothes and information and school books for his child.

-Ardyn makes special one-finger gloves for Tenko so that he can touch touch stuff without worrying about destroying it. He also, at some point, picks up the rest of the not-LoV by pure happenstance. Toga comes into his clinic hunting a patient, he scolds her, puts her in time-out, then gives her a lolli with heavy iron supplement because clearly if the girl has a blood craving she needs more iron in her system. Don’t you heathens know anything about the meaning behind cravings. Spinner gets into a fight in Ardyn’s territory, Ardyn patches him up and gently informs him that if he’s going to pick fights, at least fight dirty enough to win them. Twice comes there often for a meal and company that won’t look at him funny for talking to himself, Mr. Compress is bound and determined to get Ardyn to be surprised by one of his magic tricks (never works, because unlike Compress Ardyn can do LITERAL MAGIC). Magne is not a regular, but still shows up once in a blue moon because Ardyn’s illegal clinic is probably better stocked than most legal ones at this point (people tend to trade his treatment for actual medicine and equipment, Ardyn never asks where they get it).

-Dabi is the last to be picked up. He is also how Ardyn’s increasing collection of strays first learn about Ardyn’s superhealing factor when he TAKES Dabi’s fresh, weeping burns onto himself and they heal over in minutes, leaving both of them unscarred (or mostly so, Ardyn’s skin will always have faint ripple marks where the burns were). It is also around this time that, coincidentally, people start gunning for Endeavor and trying to make his life miserable. Because Adagium hates him and is plotting to end him, so clearly that’s their cue, right?

-The rest of Endeavor’s kids vanish in the middle of the night. No one in the police or pro heroes can find them.

-Far away in a little, unnoticed restaurant bar, Dabi holds his siblings tight and promises they are never going to have to suffer That Man again. Ardyn rests gentle hands on Shōto’s face and whispers that everything will be okay even as his skin bubbles and boils into an ugly burn before healing over with the faintest scars.

-Moving on from Ardyn’s growing collection of strays (that will keep growing so keep an eye on that):

-Ardyn doesn’t get the whole quirk thing. Or the whole superhero society thing. If something needs doing and it suits him then he shall do it, none of this Symbol of Peace nonsense.

-Yes, he said nonsense. The Symbol of Peace is nonsense and only setting society up to fall apart when this All Might fellow either gets too powerful and is made to take a fall or when he finally picks a fight he can’t win.

-Ardyn says as much to Toshinori Yagi, the nice civilian man who wandered into Ardyn’s bar without knowing who is running it. The man sputters a bit and asks why he thinks so, Ardyn just laughs and laughs and laughs until there is something unnerving about the sound and Ardyn has to stop and catch his breath. Blue eyes flicker gold as Ardyn murmurs that he’s seen it happen before.

-Somehow, Toshinori thinks this strange, eccentric barkeep doesn’t mean as a bystander.

-Ardyn meets Aizawa while Aizawa is on the hunt for Adagium, they eyeball each other like wary cats before Ardyn decides that this angry hobo hero is His Now and invites the man over for food. Aizawa declines. Ardyn casually slings Aizawa over his shoulder and carts him in anyway before Aizawa can think to retaliate.

-Ardyn is highly amused to learn that Hobo Man is after the Adagium. Good luck with that, truly, best of fortune.

-So, for those of you paying attention, Ardyn’s count of Heroes He Has Adopted is officially up to 2, even if he pretends not to notice the first one (pretends. Because he knows exactly who Toshi is, come ON it’s not that hard, they have the same voice and smile and everything).

-Ardyn’s kids grow up with his scathing political commentary and one foot in both legal and illegal worlds. Some of them (Tenko, Dabi, Toga, Spinner) decide that they’re gonna make a League to show the world how dumb its being. A League of Villains! (”League of Vigilante’s sounds more appropriate for your chosen activities, Tenko Mine-” “VILLAINS. WE ARE VILLAINS NOW.” “Alright then, will all villains in the room please wash up for supper?”)

-Ardyn finds Hitoshi and decides he’s not quite qualified for this one.

-Aizawa wakes up from another rare session of being black-out to find Ardyn cheerfully tearing up his apartment to make it more “child suitable”. Child WHAT. Child suitable. For your child.

-MY WHAT.

-Ardyn calmly holds out the adoption papers that have Aizawa’s signature on all of them, perfectly legible because the man is a little too good at pretending he isn’t stone drunk, and then gestures to the sad-eyed, skeptical boy with purple hair in the corner. Ardyn smiles (reads: threatens with killing intent) and says that he’s sure Aizawa will take his new responsibilities seriously (read: you’d better or you’re next on my hitlist).

-Aizawa, never one to go back on his word, has a kid now I guess.

-Shōto comes home one day with a bby Izuku in tow and Ardyn is charmed beyond all words over the boy. He’s so Smol! And Smart! Lookit his little brain firing away! Upon hearing the boy is developing All The Esteem Issues because of his bullying and quirklessness, Ardyn stares off into space for a long time, acknowledges that he’s a sap, and then soothingly tells Izuku that some quirks just come in late, why, Ardyn’s came in late too! Just give it a few days. Then he pats Izuku on the head and uses the motion to disguise the teeny tiny fragment of magic he splits off from his own and gives to this boy who deserves better.

-Izuku comes back two days later, crying for joy and with sparkling green magic dripping from his fingertips. Ardyn exclaims in “surprise” over the similarity of their quirks and offers to teach him. Izuku accepts and after some sweet-talking to Inko, Ardyn gets to mold this tiny genius boi as he pleases to both be proud of himself and his “quirk” AND to fight quirkless as much as possible because “tactics, my boy, take them by surprise!”

-Also then he figures out that he didn’t just lend Izuku magic because this world is funky like that, he genuinely gave it away which counts as LC adoption rituals so OOPS GUESS WHO HAS A BLOOD SON NOW.

-Oh well.

-Toshi and Izuku get along like a house on fire whenever Toshi comes over for a hot meal and Ardyn is pretty content with his brood and his handiwork against Endeavor (who by this point has been exposed as an abuser and put in jail for a long time HAH). Toshi ... pointedly doesn’t ask why several of his kids look like Endeavor. Nope. Not asking. They get their red hair from Ardyn, clearly.

-Of course, all of this casual wrecking of canon attracts the attention of AfO, who is not happy about the competition. He shows up at one point, all suave and intimidating because he is immortal and older than anyone alive and smarter too and-

-Ardyn laughs in his face.

-Baby.

-Bby playing at immortal.

-You think two centuries or so makes you hot stuff? You think stolen quirks makes you special? You think you can come into Ardyn’s territory and threaten his kids and get away with it because you’re ... a little older than the average human being? Ardyn leans close and smiles as AfO tries and fails to steal a quirk that doesn’t exist to be stolen, his Scourge face leaking into existence as he purrs that AfO should’ve minded his own business a little more than he minded others.

-AfO came prepared for a quirk. He did not come prepared for the combined might of 2k year old LC magic and abilities of a Scourge the world has never, and will never, see.

-It’s not even a fight.

-Adagium makes the news again when a body is found hanging from a high tower, torn apart as if by dozens upon dozens of blades, the corpse pinned in place by a spear that dissolves into red sparks upon the police touching it, leaving behind only a note that gets leaked to the media and goes viral.

-Dear World, refrain from touching my stuff, and you won’t end up like this man. Sincerely, Adagium.

-Not the most menacing letter until you considering the delivery method.

-Toshinori has to sit there and have a Moment upon the news that the man who murdered Nana is already dead by someone else’s hand and they have no idea when the fight went down. Because surely there was a fight, right? AfO had been centuries old and with dozens upon dozens of quirks. Who could possibly have brought him down when Nana, the then-wielder of OfA could not???

-Ardyn gently pats Toshi’s shoulder through the breakdown. There there. I’m sure you’ll figure out the culprit eventually, you’re a smart man Toshi. There there.

-Also Kurogiri shows up not long after that entire debacle looking for a new job because his old one got murdered and Adagium seems like an efficient dude. Ardyn is always happy for more hands on deck in wrangling the kids, and this one has warping powers. Welcome aboard Kurogiri.

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #ffxv #bnha #xover #I'll call this au #Gentleman Ardyn verse #no idea why

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manyothermusingsofmine · 4 years ago

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Blinding Lights || Pokemon Drabble (Gym Leader OC)

Summary: Not being able to sleep for whatever reason sucks, but at least in Galar most other towns are within walking distance when you need a change of scenery A/N: I’ve seen quite a few nice oc x canon things floating around the pokemon fandom so I wanted to write some of my own so I just -slides this into the tags.

Honestly this is the first time I actually fully want to introduce an OC to the fandom while I have her pine for my favorite character in the game so I’m actually kinda nervous about this lol

Song is ofcourse The Weeknd - Blinding Lights because it just vibes right, yknow?

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All she heard was the soft ticking of the clock in her room, and her own racing breath as she tried to calm down from jolting awake in the middle of the night.

She had never been particularly fond of the way she dreamed, everything too real and too tangible even if it happened during her slumber.

Levyna’s phone buzzed awake when she grabbed it, the Rotom in in making sure the phone was full of battery life whenever the user needed it, even if that was at half past one in the morning. Scrolling through her contact list, she hovered over one of the names for a while, before pressing down and calling the number.

“Sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave your message after the beep and I’ll call you when I can,” informed the voicemail. Figures. Not many people would be up and about at this time.

Stretching her body a little, Levyna sat up and slipped her legs over the edge of the bed. She turned a little bit to look at the sleeping pokemon at the foot of the end- or at least, she thought it had been asleep. However, her Espeon had been silently watching her from the moment she had jolted awake, and gave a curious purr as he felt the eyes of his trainer on him.

“... Do you mind going on a walk with me, Illusion?”

The pokemon stretched as well, before elegantly hopping of the bed and sitting at the door with an agreeing noise. Levyna nodded, getting up and turning on the light in the room so she could see what she was doing while getting dressed.

For a moment she considered taking her headphones along with her, but really, where she was going everyone would be asleep or not even around. So there was no real need for it, was there?

Followed by her Espeon, she made her way out of the small, minor league village of Bellfair, quietly setting foot on the road away from her home.

“Come on, Illusion. Route 7 isn’t far from here. We’ll be there in no time. ” She knew perfectly well why the dilapidated state of Spikemuth didn't sit well with its Gym Leader. Truthfully, nobody would be too happy to see their city fall off the map the way Spikemuth did, to where only 29 residents remained. The town she came from wasn't much bigger in size, perse, but Bellfair got plenty of attention even if it kept flip flopping between being minor or major League.

But to Levyna, Spikemuth was heaven. With team yell on the road to support Marnie in her journey, only a handful of people remained in Spikemuth; most of them asleep around this time as she had expected.

She sighed in a sense of relief when she got to the main stage, momentarily deserted and with most of its neon lights turned off. Sitting down and leaning back on the steps up to the stage, she soaked in the silence around her.

No conscious thoughts to hear aside from her own. No expectations. Just blissful silence, while softly petting the delicate fur of her Espeon who had curled up in her lap.

Illusion however suddenly sat up, letting out a thrilling noise and looked at his owner with a tilted head. A sign to Levyna that he wanted to explore the area, but was unsure if he could leave his owner by herself when he did.

She smiled, very softly petting his head, getting another purr from her partner pokemon.

“It’s okay. You can go explore if you want. I’ll stay here until you’re back, okay?”

Illusion let out a happy noise, slightly wiggling away from her lap before trotting off in an elegant and quick pace. He did momentarily halt and look back at his trainer, as if to make sure she remained where she was, before fully allowing himself to explore the city of Spikemuth.

There were lots of nooks and crannies in the city the Espeon could have explored, but he stuck to most of the main road until said road took a turn left before the entrance of the town. Illusion halted there, seemingly thinking for a moment, before taking the left turn and peaking around the west entrance of the town that was surrounded by high grass, some fencing and some metal containers.

Illusion purred at the shape he saw leaning back against the biggest container at the entrance to the left, going closer to the shape and sitting down next to it.

Piers watched the pokemon from the corner of his eyes, raising an eyebrow as the lilac feline pokemon sat down beside him. Eeveelutions were an uncommon sighting in Spikemuth either way, but an Espeon seemed an far more unlikely eeveelution for any resident to have than an Umbreon.

“Hm. You’re not from around here, are ya, mate?”

He couldn’t help but smile a little as the Espeon purred, leaning over with a hand reaching over in a relaxed way so the pokemon could sniff it. He didn’t plan on petting it necessarily, he just wanted to show that he was not a threat.

“You must be Levyna’s Espeon, then. Didn’t see her coming in. Mind bringing me to her?”

He stood up straight, pressing against one of his shoulders before rolling it back a little, only to follow the pokemon back into his town and along the main road to the stage where he often held his concerts.

Seeing Levyna there in the middle of the night was not much of a surprise, and he didn’t mind keeping her company on the nights she came to Spikemuth if he had been struggling to get to sleep as well.

“Hey,” he greeted, casually, watching as the Espeon that guided him crawled back into the lap of its trainer.

“Hey,” she greeted back, moving just a little bit so there was enough space for him to sit down next to her. Not that there wasn’t, or like Piers took up a lot of space anyway, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.

“I was planning on calling you back, you know. Missed call and all? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just.. you know. Sleeping got hard, wanted to ask if I could come over. Decided to do so anyway. Hope you don’t mind.” “Of course I don’t mind. Beats standing outside on my own.”

A silence fell between them, but it was hardly an awkward silence. In fact, the gaps in their conversation seemed more comforting than anything else. To just sit there, besides one another to enjoy the company offered, in the calm silence of a town that was asleep.. It seemed to calm both of them down, even just a little.

To share space without the expectation of much else was a luxury neither of them could really afford to have more often during the buzzling hours of the day. Not with their responsibilities as gym leaders, and Piers’ responsibilities towards his music career to boot.

Still, Levyna picked up vibes. Bits and pieces of the thoughts and worries on his mind, despite her trying not to listen in on his thoughts out of respect. However, hearing the thoughts of others was something she couldn’t fully block out without her headphones. Still, maybe if she asked it right she could offer some help?

"You seem worried."

"Same goes for you."

… Fair enough. While Piers didn’t share her telepathic abilities, he seemed to know better than anyone else when something was bothering Levyna- maybe it was some body language thing that she never really seemed to understand as it was something she didn’t particularly needed to focus on herself.

Levyna was never too sure how she felt about Piers’ ability to tell when something was up with her. She knew that sounded bad coming from someone who could literally read minds if she didn’t try her best to block out thoughts that weren’t hers, but still. "You're in the major league, Piers. Does… Does it bother you to be a major league gym?"

"I don’t know. Does it bother you to be a minor league player this year?”

"Not particularly... In the background maybe, but... you know what I'm like."

"Mhh… Actually, it’s more… It’s Marnie. She’s at the age where she's ready to take on the gym challenge, so…"

"She'll do great."

“I know. That’s not what I’m worried about. Just.. letting her go, I guess. Letting her go and travel Galar all by herself, cause I’m stuck here being part of the gym challenge she’s going to take.”

Levyna nodded, very lightly patting his shoulder to try and offer sympathy. It was no secret that Piers was protective over Marnie and wanted her safe, especially as he had been more of a parent figure to her than just an older brother. Levyna could only imagine it was hard for him to let her go and spread her wings even if it was the best thing to do for her.

Another silence fell between them as she withdrew her hand to go back to petting Illusion, hoping she had at least given him some comfort.

“… You just want to be there for her when she battles, huh?”

“Yeah. Wish I could be.”

“I don’t think she’s going to hold that against you. She knows you have responsibilities you can’t shake, no matter how much you wish you could. Plus, well, I don’t have siblings, but I bet it’s going to be fun for her to try and beat you on your home turf.”

Piers gave a slight amused huff. Levyna did have somewhat of a point there. He’d be lying himself if he said he wasn’t looking forward to try and beat his little sister himself, and knew she would put up a great fight against him as well. And for Levyna to have so much faith in Marnie making it far into the competition anyway meant a lot to him.

He knew his sister would make it far. But to hear that same faith in her from someone else was nice.

However, that didn’t explain something else that was on his mind. He looked at her, watching as she silently petted the Espeon in her lap. The purrs from the pokemon were the only noises that broke the peaceful silence between them.

He decided to first place a hand upon her upper arm, much like she had offered a similar kind of affection while they spoke of his worries. “So… why are you here, then? I know something's on your mind, Lev. And unlike you I can't exactly peek in to see what's going on. You can tell me anything, you know?"

She looked at the hand that ever so gently had been placed on her upper arm. She wondered if he even knew how much his slight touches calmed down her racing mind.

".... It's nothing. Nothing huge, anyway. Just too many thoughts making the process of actually shutting down my brain and getting some damn sleep incredibly hard and... I mean this in the best way possible, but Spikemuth is.. calm. quiet. I can actually hear myself think around here. I know how that's not something necessarily positive though. Makes me feel like a wandering Absol."

"Didn't realise disaster omens came in hues of purple."

That drew a small laugh out of her as she lightly swatted at his shoulder, fully aware that it was just a joke between friends.

"I'm glad you can find some peace and quiet here, Lev. At least until the gym challenge starts, I suppose."

"Yeah."

They sat there together for quite a while, just talking about the upcoming gym challenge and the differences between the major league qualifications and leader responsibilities in comparison to those of a minor league gym, talking about Marnie and the journey she was soon about to make.

And talking about just anything in between that came to their minds until rays of the sun slowly started to creep through the cracks of the ceiling that kept the whole of Spikemuth protected from the cold weather blowing around route 9. With the hours slowly creeping towards the daylight, Levyna decided it was about time for her to go home and get some rest there. Even just a light nap would help her get through the rest of the day.

Illusion left her lap as she gave even the slightest motion that she wanted to get up. She patted down her clothes a little to make sure there were no weird folds from the way she had been sitting, readjusted her gloves and pulled her fingers through her long blond hair to push it back into shape. She thanked Piers for keeping her company, which he assured was no big deal as he thanked her as well for doing the same for him.

As Levyna told him to take care, she started to walk towards the main entrance of the city. She halted, however, as she got a few steps onto the gym floor where Piers usually held his battles or kept his audience during concert. She bit her lower lip for a moment, thinking about something else she had been wanting to tell him. "Piers-" she started, turning back around towards where he still sat, and immediately held back what she wanted to say. He looked up at the mentioning of his name, looking at her curiously.

"Hmm?"

".... Let me know if there's ever anything I can do for you, okay? You... help me with so much of my problems, and I know you don't do it so I owe you but... I want to help you if you need me to."

"... Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

With that they said their goodbyes for then, and Levyna walked along the main road before leaving Spikemuth through the main entrance. Standing out on route 9, she sighed before pressing her back against one of the brick pillars that held the shutters in place. She stared down at Illusion who had followed her along, sat down beside her and now seemed to be disappointedly glaring at her.

".... Don't you judge me," she muttered.

"Let's just go home. I have to get some rest before starting the day, anyhow. Hmm… Maybe I could try to visit Milo somewhere in between my breaks. Speaking to him would be nice.”

Illusion just purred in agreement as he followed his trainer home.

I said, ooh, I'm blinded by the lights. No, I can't sleep until I feel your touch

#pokemon swsh #pokemon writing #piers pokemon #pokemon gym leader oc #my writing

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rebelangel67 · 5 years ago

Text

Light of the love (that I found)

Summary: Castiel had stashed in his head - from the time Metatron inserted there all those pop cultural facts - the information that this was often considered a display of affection.

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1,306

Tags/Warnings: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx, Mixtape, 12x12 Stuck in the Middle (With You), Missing scene

Written for the @supernaturalpromptchallenge for the prompts:

{We Never Saw} The moment Dean gave Castiel the mixtape. {Free Choice} A missing scene from canon you would like to see.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965216/chapters/54988615

Title from Zepp's Fool in the Rain

Castiel had watched Mary drive away with the unsettling feeling that something wasn’t quite right about this whole case.

The Prince of Hell - who only wanted to be left alone - wouldn’t bother coming after them for merely trespassing. Not when Crowley’s minions could’ve done the job just fine. Even more, he wouldn’t need false pretenses in order to kill them. Why would he claim they stole something from the house?

Someone must’ve done it.

Crowley, of course, was the obvious answer. Though it looked like too big of a scheme to get what he wanted and keep the Winchesters alive at the same time. It would’ve been easier just to let Ramiel deal with them once and for all.

“Hey. Earth to Cas?” Dean’s hand laid steadily on his shoulder for about three seconds longer than usual. This was the one you get when you die, apparently. “You sure you’re okay, buddy?”

It took a moment for Castiel to nod in return, though ‘okay’ was probably not the right term. Near-death experiences had always taken their toll on him.

“You look like crap,” Dean remarked, squeezing the steering wheel tightly.

Castiel couldn’t disagree.

Sam took off with the pickup truck shortly after they parted ways with Mary. Dean had decided that Castiel wasn’t fit to drive. That’s how he ended up riding shotgun in the Impala. Which wasn’t bad, by definition. But after Lucifer, things were quite awkward between him and Dean. The air was heavy with what had left unsaid.

Dean pulled out of the diner’s parking lot and turned onto the main road. They had about four hours’ drive to the bunker.

Home. Dean would’ve called the bunker home. Let’s go home, he had said, making Castiel’s very essence vibrate with the word.

There was no other sound but the steady purr of the engine for quite some time. Dean’s jaw was tight with concentration, stubborn eyes fixed on the road ahead. Castiel thought about bringing up his suspicions about what had happened earlier but quickly decided against it. Though the questions kept buzzing in the back of his mind, he ignored them for now.

With nothing else left for both of them to say, the tension only grew heavier. Not that there weren't things lingering unsaid in the heavy space between them. Things Castiel wanted to come clean on. Things he wanted - no, needed to explain. He just didn't know how to bring them up.

Castiel had let Lucifer out of the cage. Castiel had lost Kelly Cline along with the biggest possible threat - a Nephilim created out of an archangel's grace. The Devil's grace. An abomination which, if born, probably couldn’t be killed at all and the world would face the Apocalypse all over again.

No wonder Dean wouldn't even look at him.

"Stop it," Dean said.

Coming out of nowhere, the statement pulled him out of his thoughts. Unexpectedly, there was nothing sharp about Dean's tone. It was soft, almost gentle.

"I didn't …" Castiel started off but didn't know what he was being scolded for, so the rest of the sentence hung in the air, unfinished.

"I can see the smoke coming out of your ears for miles, Cas. Whatever you’re beating yourself up about - just stop it, alright?"

“There is too much to atone for,” he declared grimly.

"Yeah. Alright," Dean agreed, half-heartedly. "But not today. You had a rough night. We all did. You can't jump back on the road after something like that."

"You have done it on less."

He knew it was a mistake the moment the words fell from his lips but it was too late to take it back anyway. So, he braced himself to meet Dean's anger which strangely, didn't come.

"I ain't a good role model, Cas. In case you didn't know it already," Dean said instead.

“Except when it comes to music,” Castiel offered, hoping to change the subject.

“Except that, yeah,” Dean agreed with a jerky nod. “You always hafta listen to me when it comes to music.” Dean stuck his finger in Castiel’s face without taking his eyes off the road. “That’s a rule.”

“Of course.” Well, that was an easy win. He tended to enjoy Dean’s passion for classic rock maybe more than Dean enjoyed the music itself. “Though it’s difficult to find a decent radio station. Even more while constantly crossing state lines, “ Castiel added.

Dean huffed a small laugh. “I can make you a list of those for almost every state. But it’s easier if you just get some tapes.”

Castiel shook his head. “I’d love to. My truck only has a radio, though.”

“Right. Damn F-series.” Dean shrugged. “Well, that can be fixed. Sam even managed to plug an iPod into my Baby once, you know...” Dean’s brow frowned in disgust. “But we ain’t douching your truck up, alright?”

Castiel agreed.

***

He stayed at the bunker for three whole days, which was three more than what he intended.

With his grace slowly fading away, he had begun to appreciate more and more the human routine. Food. Showers. Sometimes even a whole night sleep. But, as much as he enjoyed pancakes and coffee for breakfast, good water pressure, and Tuesday movie nights, he had to eventually go back on his mission.

Dean had busied himself repairing things about his truck that Castiel was pretty convinced didn’t need to be repaired at all. If he didn’t know better, he would think that Dean was stalling.

But Dean had managed to install the radio with a cassette player instead of the original one and this could at least make Castiel’s life on the road a little less miserable.

Sam said his goodbyes and headed back inside a while ago. Just the usual: stay safe, keep in touch. Dean had stayed behind on the warm Thursday morning to make sure that Castiel could operate the upgraded audio system.

“Thank you, “ he said genuinely as Dean walked him through the purpose of the additional buttons.

“ ‘s nothing.” Dean rubbed the back of his head and looked proud but also mildly embarrassed with his achievement.

Castiel climbed on the driver’s seat with a heavy feeling in his chest.

“I left something for you in there. The good stuff, you know…” Dean shut the door for him and patted the hood of the truck in a good to go gesture. “To get you started.”

Castiel’s eyes shifted to the player and then back to Dean. “Alright.”

“We can discuss it when you come home,” Dean offered. “Take care, buddy.”

Castiel drove away with the goodbye, Dean still stuck in his throat. Leaving was getting harder every time he did it. His eyes drifted back to the rearview mirror until Dean was out of sight.

He pressed the eject button and examined the tape before putting it back in. The first song spilled into the truck almost immediately. It was a nice, catchy tune, and soon he found himself drumming his fingers on the wheel, going along with the music.

At the start of the song, it seemed to be about unrequited love, but it turned out to be a simple misunderstanding by the end.

The label had Dean’s Top 13 Zepp Traxx scribbled on it. Those were some of Dean’s favorite songs and Dean entrusted the tape to him. Castiel had stashed in his head - from the time Metatron inserted there all those pop cultural facts - the information that this was often considered a display of affection. Also, giving how much Dean cherished his tapes, it had to mean something.

Castiel still didn’t quite know what it was, but he was looking forward to the discussion Dean had mentioned.

Maybe he had been - as the song said - waiting on the wrong block this whole time.

#supernaturalpromptchallenge #Destiel #dean's top 13 #the mixtape #missing scene #12x12 stuck in the middle (with you)#my stuff

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singingunderthecurtain · 6 years ago

Note

hiii ~ this is a request for whenever. vacation with sehun and suho ? ♥

바캉스 (Vacation)

Author: julietsoddeyeGenre: Fluff | CanonPairing: Suho & Sehun x Female ReaderWord Count: 565

Plot: Junmyeon truly regrets ever bringing Sehun along on vacation with you.

A/N: Hello, anon! It has been a year… You literally said “this is a request for whenever”, so here I am… 😂😂😂 I’m kidding, please don’t hate me. 😭��🥰 AAAAANNNNDDDD, obviously this was inspired by EXO’s Ladder S2. Hahaha hope yall like this. Probably not what anon expected and very short too, sorry. D:

“Aaa, finally… I got you all to myself.”

Junmyeon murmurs, hugging you snugly from behind to bury his face deep into your hair.

The both of you are snuggling in bed, freshly showered and ready to sleep the night off to welcome your fifth day.

The scent of lavender from the candle you were burning is faint in the air, not strong enough to put Junmyeon to sleep though.

Because the smell of the creme de coco sugar scrub on your skin (which he really loves) overpowers any other fragrance there is in this room.

“You always have all of me to yourself, Junmyeon.”

You giggle when the tip of his nose touches your neck, tickling your skin.

“True. But it doesn’t feel like that since this vacation started.”

Just by the sound of his voice, you can tell that Junmyeon is probably pouting like a kid who accidentally dropped his ice cream scoop on the floor while licking it.

You pretended to stretch your arms, causing Junmyeon to let go of you slightly.

You took that chance to twirl around to face him, skin on his nose slightly peeling and cheeks tinged pink because of the beach activities you did today.

His arms found its place around you.

And your hand combs through his newly conditioned soft hair.

He closed his eyes and hums as you massaged his scalp gingerly.

“Hmm, care to explain how so?”

Junmyeon opens his eyes regretfully slow.

“Well…”

He trails off, mindlessly rubbing your butt and thighs as he carefully thinks for an explanation.

You purr softly, swaying for a response although not pressuring him in any way.

“Well… Sehun…”

Junmyeon trails off one more time with only the mention of Sehun’s name.

“What about Sehunnie?”

As Junmyeon was about to speak, few soft knocks on the door disrupt over.

“Who’s there?”

You call out.

“It’s me, Noona.”

The door opens then Sehun’s head pops out next.

“Gaddamit, I forgot to lock the door again…”

Junmyeon hisses under his breath and you bit your lower lip to stop yourself from chuckling.

You pinch your boyfriend’s shoulder ever so slightly to make him stop from making any snarky comments towards Sehun.

“Come in, Sehunnie.”

You smile at him, as you prop yourself up from the bed with your free arm.

Junmyeon lets go of you completely to push himself to sit up properly.

He rolls his eyes when Sehun’s back is facing you both as he closes your hotel room’s door.

“What’s up Sehun?”

You say as you sat up on the bed as well, patting the empty space on your other side.

Sehun smiles widely and immediately jumps up next to you and encircles his long arms around your hips.

“I’m scared, Noona. My room is too big and I’m scared to be on my own.”

Junmyeon lets out an obnoxious huff, obviously annoyed at his bandmate.

You caress Sehun’s hair when he rests his head on your stomach.

“Sehun-ah, she’s my girlfriend.”

Junmyeon’s words seethe through his gritted teeth.

“Hyung, she’s my childhood friend. Remember if not for me, you won’t get to meet her in the first place.”

Sehun said in a matter-of-fact tone while flashing Junmyeon a shit-eating smile.

“Enough boys! Let’s just sleep, okay?”

All you can do is chuckle silently while Junmyeon starts to throw a hissy fit as he turns the lights off.

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littleshebear · 6 years ago

Note

Zavala x Hawthorne: “I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

This was only meant to be a drabble but it completely got away from me. 2000 words and a lot of fluff later, here we are. This is the sappiest thing I’ve ever written.

YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED.

“Are you serious?” Suraya shakes her head as soon as the words leave her mouth. Of course he’s serious. Zavala is always serious but she’s never seen him look as nervous as he does now. His only answer to her entirely pointless question is to hold her gaze with wide, earnest eyes. His brows creep together slightly, deepening the worry lines on his forehead.

Suraya glances at the falcon perched beside her on the balcony as if for guidance, then clasps her hands together to keep them from shaking. She swallows hard before speaking again. “I didn’t even know Guardians did this, is this a thing for Guardians? This is a thing.”

“This is indeed a…thing for us, yes.” Zavala’s lips twitch into a tiny smile at her anxious babbling. “I would term it a tradition.”

“But-but,” she stammers and takes a shuddering breath, “People might not approve, you’re the Commander and I’m…” She tails off, unsure of exactly how to describe herself in this most nerve wracking of moments. “I mean, they might not like it, they might think it’s a conflict, it could make things difficult with the Consensus, the factions might-”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” His voice is as even and calm as hers is staccato and fearful. “I want this. But only if you do too.”

She nods slowly, then gradually faster as the realisation hits her. “Yes.” Another nod. “Yes. I do.” She breaks into a grin and yanks off her gloves before dropping them unceremoniously to the floor. “Yes.” Her vision blurs with tears as she watches Zavala’s trembling hand remove the Ring of Eternity from the little velvet box perched in his other palm.

“Heavy ammo available.” Shaxx lolls in his chair, cupping his helmeted head in his hand and contemplates designing a medal for “Dullest Crucible Match Ever.” A perverse part of him thinks such dedication to pedestrian combat should be rewarded somehow. He is about to muster the energy to fetch more coffee when Arcite chirps happily at him.

“Communiqué from Commander Zavala, My Lord.”

“What’s he saying?”

“Message reads, She said yes.”

Meanwhile, in the Vostok arena, a warlock is poised to leap. They fudge their jump and careen off the edge of Felwinter Peak after being shocked by Shaxx’s sudden, deafening bellow of triumph.

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s perfectly straightforward.” Arach Jalaal sighs. “What is it you don’t understand, Executor? We’ve been invited to witness Commander Zavala and Suraya Hawthorne’s wedding. They’ll make vows, people will watch them vow, some may cry, I suggest you bring tissues. Afterwards, there’ll be a celebration, you can bring along a plus one to that. A plus one is a friend, assuming you have any.”

“I understand what a wedding is, you fool,” Hideo hisses. “I just didn’t think Commander Zavala was the marrying type. Certainly not the type to marry someone of her…Character.”

“I fail to see how this could be surprising to anyone,” Lakshmi states in that metallic purr of hers. “The attraction was obvious.”

“Yes, if you have a machine that lets you spy on potential futures, I suppose it isn’t surprising.”

“You don’t need a vex scrying device to see it,” Jalaal says, rolling his eyes. “I knew.”

“How?” Asks Hideo, incredulous.

“Because I have eyes. You’re just blinded by the fact that you can’t imagine a man you admire so much having opinions that differ from your own. That, and your ego still hasn’t healed from that bloody nose she gave you.”

Hideo scowls and does his best to ignore the smoky chuckle Jalaal’s jibe elicited from Lakshmi. “I’m not going,” he states, tossing the invitation on the table for emphasis.

“Do as you please. I’m sure the Acting Head of the Consensus won’t take that as an insult to himself and his bride. No repercussions for New Monarchy, I’m sure.” Lakshmi’s build doesn’t allow her to smirk but the condescension dripping from her words is obvious.

“Fine.” Hideo sighs. “I’ll show my face. But I’m leaving early.”

“Oh, be nice,” chides Jalaal. “Let them have this. Let them have a little fun before the planet blows up.”

Osiris idles in the Infinite Forest, waiting for his echoes to bring him some news of anything that might require his attention but it’s a quiet time. He decides to search for a busier time to stave off the boredom. He cannot believe Ikora cancelled plans to help him build a new simulation. She reneged to help plan a wedding. A wedding. Of all things.

“She’ll be back next week,” Sagira assures him. “You’re just grumpy because you weren’t invited.”

“I am not bothered in the slightest. I have no wish to partake in trivial social niceties. I have far more important things to focus on.”

“Don’t worry,” Sagira continues, unconvinced at his display of disinterest. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

“What?”

“I was invited.”

“You were what!?”

“You seem sad, my dear.”

Ikora glances up from her draft table plan at the sounds of Eva’s gentle inquiry.

“No, I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“It’s definitely something.” Eva eases herself down into the chair next to Ikora’s. “You’re distracted. Look, you’ve put Shaxx next to Saladin at the High Table.”

Ikora laughs and hastily re-arranges the name tags. “That was remiss of me. It would be entertaining, for certain, but not fair on the happy couple.” Ikora’s smile fades when Eva lays her hand on hers.

“Come on. You can talk to old Eva.”

“It’s just…” She shrugs helplessly. “I keep thinking about where Cayde would sit. He would have loved this.” She allows herself another wan smile, “He was a secret romantic.”

“He would have. He’d be driving Zavala to distraction with completely unworkable ideas by now, I’ve no doubt.” She gives Ikora’s hand a squeeze. “He wouldn’t want everything to stop on his account. So we have to carry on. Do what Cayde would have wanted.”

“Cayde would have sat Shaxx next to Saladin.”

Eva chuckles. “Pick out a place for him. We’ll set a glass of that terrible green goo he used to drink there.”

“Isn’t that a little morbid for a wedding?”

“It’s a mark of respect. I’ll clear it with Suraya and Zavala but I’m sure they’ll appreciate the gesture.” She pats Ikora’s hand before releasing her. “Now,” she leafs through a folder with cloth swatches and decoration ideas. “Zavala gave me his preferences for the decorations colour scheme. I propose we ignore it completely.”

“I concur.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Sloane absently trails her fingers through Amanda’s hair. “I mean, you think you know someone.”

Amanda rearranges herself on the couch to lay her head in Sloane’s lap. She wrinkles her nose in confusion. “Are you mad about it?”

“No, I’m just surprised. I’ve known Zavala a very, very long time and I just assumed he was married to the job. You know?”

“He never does anything by half measures. All or nothin’ with him. It’s great though. I’m real excited. Will you come shopping with me tomorrow? I need to pick out a dress.”

“Sure. I need to buy a suit.”

Amanda sits bolt upright. “A suit?”

“You don’t like that idea?”

“Nah.” She straddles Sloane’s lap and circles her arms around her neck. “I love that idea.”

“Mmm…” Sloane mumbles against Amanda’s lips, “Anything to make my girl happy.”

Amanda breaks the kiss and pulls back to regard Sloane with a wicked smirk. “Anythin’?”

“Uh-huh…” Sloane affirms with more than a little suspicion.

“So you’ll help me catch the bouquet?”

Sloane gives a resigned chuckle. “Commander Zavala, what have you unleashed?”

“Don’t let your fears define you.”

“This is not a battle.”

“But you’re still scared.” Saladin smiles at Zavala. He pats down the lapels on Zavala’s suit before gripping his shoulders. “Don’t be. She’s not going to get cold feet.”

“She can be a little…” Zavala takes a deep breath. “Flighty. At times.”

“Not this time. Everything will go smoothly. Eva and Ikora have everything in hand-”

“They ignored my colour scheme-”

Saladin bites his tongue before he can make a comment about how badly orange and teal clash. “But they’ve done a good job. And I promise I won’t flub my lines.”

“Thank you, for agreeing to officiate. For everything.”

“It’s my honour.” He steps back, giving his former pupil an appraising look. “I still remember you, limping into camp, dressed in tattered furs. Look at you now. You’ve come a long way.”

Zavala laughs softly and looks at his feet. “I still feel like a cold apple seed some days.”

Saladin takes him by the shoulders again and adjusts his posture. Titans should not slouch, especially not on days like today. “It has been a privilege to watch you grow. I wish…” He stops himself at the sight of Zavala’s concerned frown. He does wish Jolder were here to see this. He does wish she could have met Zavala’s intended. Suraya is a spirited woman, Jolder would have approved. He does wish Jolder were here now, fussing over Zavala. He wishes it with all his heart. But he won’t say it. It isn’t right. “I wish you every happiness.”

“I’m not sure about this dress.”

“It’s a little late to change it now.” Marc hunkers down in front of her and takes her hands in his to stop her grabbing fistfuls of fabric. “Relax, you’re creasing your skirt.”

“I’m just not sure it’s me, you know, it has lace. What was I thinking? I don’t wear lace. It’s too fake, he won’t like it.”

“Shhh, darling, you look beautiful. Besides…” He begins running his thumbs back and forth along her knuckles in an attempt to soothe her. “You could walk out there dressed in a burlap sack and he’d still think you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Which you are. That’s just a fact.”

Suraya casts her gaze sideways and nods. “Burlap is definitely more me. Okay!” She tries to stand, “Let’s go with the burlap.”

“Ah ah ah, no,” Marc pushes her gently back down into her seat. “The dress is perfect. You’re perfect. It’s going to be perfect. You loved this dress when you picked it out, never mind what anyone else thinks.”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I care what he thinks. I just…” Marc finds himself having to hold her hands again because she abandons crumpling up her skirt in favour of picking at her nails. “I just want to make him happy. He’s been through so much, he deserves to be happy.”

“You will.”

“What if I’m not good enough?”

“Suraya. Of course you’re good enough, you are more than good enough. This is just nerves, it’s normal. Before I got married, I was beside myself. I was convinced I’d trip over my shoelaces, or get my vows wrong, or that Devrim would run out on me. All of that melted away when I saw him waiting for me at the altar.” He lapses into a wistful, lop-sided smile. “I remember it so clearly. He was tugging at his collar before he realised I’d come in. He never much liked wearing his dress uniform but I’d never seen anyone more handsome. He may as well have been the only person in the entire world in that moment. It’ll be the same for you.”

“Promise?”

“Pinkie swear.” Suraya laughs as she hooks her little finger around his. There’s a light knock on the door and Devrim slips into the room.

“All right, it’s time. Oh…” He stops dead in his tracks, clasps his hands together and raises them to his lips as if in prayer. “Oh, look at you.”

Suraya stands and smooths out her skirt. “Is it okay? Is the lace too much?”

“You look absolutely radian-” He swallows hard and starts dabbing furiously at his eyes. “Sorry…”

“Oh no, Dad, don’t!” Suraya protests, gulping down a lump in her throat. “You’re going to set me off too.”

“I knew this would happen,” Marc sighs as he fishes a couple of handkerchiefs out of his pocket. He hands one to Devrim then sets about very carefully dabbing away Suraya’s tears.

“You look good too,” she tells Devrim with a watery smile.

“Thank you, darling. The collar chafes awfully though.” Devrim runs his finger around his collar while Marc and Suraya exchange an amused, knowing look. “Very well. Are you ready?”

There’s a pause while Suraya exhales a long, slow breath before nodding. She hooks her right arm through Devrim’s and her left through Marc’s. When she steps out into the bazaar and makes her way to the plaza, she’s keenly aware of how many eyes are on her. Normally, she would consider that amount of attention tantamount to torture but today, she could not care less. She beams from ear to ear when she catches sight of Zavala. He stands tall. Proud. He’s smiling more than she’s ever seen before. Marc was right.

#my writing #steelponcho #commander zavala #suraya hawthorne #zavala x hawthorne #here be fluff #so much fluff #ask

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