#welcome to nightfall fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

animesmolbean · 6 months ago

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Guardian of Light

(Male)

Hello! Welcome to my rewritten story for Dune and Kingdom Hearts!

Some things have changed, and the story has more added detail that helps with the story.

Regarding updates, they will be slower because I really want to explore a bit of the story, especially for future chapters. But I'll try to update as soon as I can.

As shown up above, this is the male version of the chapter! The female version was published yesterday (Monday). The female and male verison will have some differences (if you read both of them) to show the different actions taken by the characters. This will mostly affect the intimacy part of the story and not really the actual plot.

One more thing, I was inspired to write this story after reading a fanfiction I read on Wattpad that is just phenomenal! My story follows the format of it (most of the time), but it's a completely different story!

I'll link the book here if you are interested in reading it!

With all of that out of the way,

Hope you enjoy the first chapter! ♥️

Dreams are messages from the deep.

“My planet, Arrakis, is so beautiful when the sun is low. Rolling over the sands… You can see spice in the air. At nightfall, the spice harvesters land.

The outsiders and their army of demons race against time to avoid the heat of the day. They ravaged our lands in front of our eyes. Their cruelty to my people is all I've known.

These outsiders, The Harkonnens, came long before I was born. But their demon army only came recently with them.

By controlling the spice production, they become obscenely rich. Richer than the Emperor himself.

Our warriors couldn't free Arrakis from the Harkonnens, or the demons that lurk in the shadows, but one day, by the imperial decree, they were gone.

Why did the Emperor choose this path? And who will our next oppressors be?”

〰️

Chapter 1: Accepting a Deal

〰️

Year 10191

CALADAN, Homeworld of House Atreides

“I've been having these weird thoughts lately. Like is any of this for real… or not?”

A (straight/curly/wavy) (hair color) boy slowly woke up. The soft glow from the light in his room, ridding him of any feeling of sleep.

He sat up, running his fingers through his hair. He looked around, seeing the familiar room he was given when he was a kid.

“It was… just a dream.” He whispered.

〰️

Meanwhile, a young boy was lying on a bed, shirtless, asleep, but tossed and turned a little as he dreamed. He was dreaming about something. Or rather, someone. His (Hair Color) hair gently blowing in the wind. He turned towards him, his beautiful sapphire blue eyes sparkling with happiness as he smiled widely.

His beautiful best friend since they were kids, the boy who is always the light of his life. (Your Name).

However, there was someone else with him. It was another girl that wore a different outfit compared to (Your Name). The boy didn't know who this was, for he could only see the side of her face. But he knew that he had dreamed of her before, too.

The boy's hazel green eyes opened, groaning softly, sitting up as the moving light came and shined against his shirtless form. He sat up in his bed, looking down.

‘What could that dream mean?’ He thought to himself.

〰️

The same young boy was now in a dining room, sitting at the table, deep in thought as he ate his breakfast.

An older woman who sat at the end of the table spoke up, breaking him out of his thoughts. “It's good you're up early. I just wish (Your Name) could be too.”

〰️

(Your Name) stood outside, in a loose gray long sleeve, baggy black Capri pants, and his boots were off, placed by a rock.

He dipped his feet into the large, cool body of water, walking until the water was halfway to his calves. He looked out towards the horizon, in deep thought.

〰️

“Your father wants you two in full dress before the Emperor's Herald arrives.”

The brunet boy raised his head up at this news, “Full dress? Military?”

“Ceremonial.” Jessica, the woman's name and his mother replied.

Paul let out a sigh. “Why would we have to go through all this when it's already been decided?” Paul asked.

“Ceremony.” Jessica simply replied.

The doors to the room suddenly opened, making the two at the dining table turn. Paul's lips lifted up into a smile at who was standing there. (Your Name).

“Ah…” (Your Name) chuckled awkwardly. “So sorry I'm late.” The boy walked over to the spot between Paul and Jessica.

“Nice to see you here (Your Name). And with shoes on this time.” Jessica lightly teased her son-like figure. She knew this boy since he was around five years old. She remembered the day the first time she brought him to Caladan.

〰️

Jessica was out late at night, having trouble sleeping. The sky was dark, stars twinkling, and the moon being the only thing providing light, making anything the light shone on glow a soft blue.

She walked along a beach that Caladan was known for when she saw what looked like a shooting star in the sky. But she saw it was falling towards the ground, not going across the sky like a shooting star normally would.

She watched the bright light and splash into a large body of water she was near. She walked closer to the water, her feet touching the soft sand. What she saw made her eyes widen.

What fell into the water was not a rock. But a child. He looked very young, like about five years old. He wore a white loose shirt with black shorts and no shoes.

Acting fast, she took off the cloak she was wearing and grabbed the wet, unconscious child and carried him back to the castle to be taken care of.

Jessica walked towards one of the spare rooms, requesting one of their servants to find clothes for the child. The female servant did what she was told while Jessica laid the child on the bed.

She got a closer look at the boy. He had (Hair Color) hair, (Skin Color) skin, all wet from landing in the water. She frowned and stroked the boy's wet hair.

This action caused the child to stir and mumble. Jessica watched the child slowly come to. When he opened his eyes, however, Jessica felt her heartbeat increase.

The boy's eyes were a deep blue. Like the color of sapphires or cobalt.

Jessica knew then that she needed to keep this boy safe.

〰️

(Your Name) chuckled shyly at Jessica's teasing, playing with the silver charm on his silver necklace; shaped like a small crown. He smiled back and then looked over to his best friend, who was already staring at her. Before he sat down, he greeted Paul with a gentle hug. The male smiled softly at his friend and hugged him back.

Once (Your Name) was seated and eating his breakfast, Jessica told him what she had just told Paul. The boy was confused as to why they were having a ceremony, but he gave Jessica a nod before he resumed eating. Jessica poured a glass of water for (Your Name) and slid the glass to him. The (Hair Color) haired boy thanked her quietly.

Jessica did the same for Paul, “Thank you.” The boy whispered. Jessica replied, “If you want it, make me give it to you. Use the Voice.”

(Your Name) guessed that Jessica wanted Paul to use the voice to bring him the water.

“Mom, I just woke up.” Paul protested in a gruffy, morning voice.

Jessica just stared at her son making Paul roll his eyes as he reluctantly agreed to try. He turned his body in the chair to use the voice, “Give me the water.”

It came out more like a soft, raspy whisper than what it was intended to be.

(Your Name) let out a muffled giggle at Paul's weak attempt. “The glass can't hear you. Say it to your mother.” He whispered.

Paul gave the boy a look before looking back at his mother. Seconds felt like minutes. The atmosphere shifted to stillness as (Your Name) watched Paul and Jessica stare at each other intensely, waiting for Paul to use the Voice again.

Moments later, his lips moved.

“Give me the water.”

The voice came out gruffier and a bit distorted. But it did its magic. Jessica took the glass and pushed it towards Paul a little. But as quickly she was under the spell, she quickly snapped out of it. She pushed the glass of water closer to Paul.

“Almost.”

“Almost?”

Paul's voice was back to its normal pitch.

“Bene Gesserit skills take years to learn, Paul.” Jessica told her son as he reached out and grabbed the glass.

(Your Name) nodded. Even though he wasn't being taught to use the Bene Gesserit, he understood its complexity and why it's important to master.

Jessica observed her son before speaking again. “You look tired. More dreams?”

(Your Name) raised an eyebrow in confusion. He looked at his friend with worry. ‘Has he been dreaming too?’ He thought to himself.

Paul shook his head, muttering, “No.” Then he went back to eating.

“What about you, (Your Name)? Have you been dreaming?” Jessica asked.

The boy looked down before muttering, “No.”

〰️

“Extreme temperatures and treacherous weather events make life outside the cities of Arrakis truly hostile.” A robotic voice came from a recording that laid on the ground and showed visuals of what they were talking about.

After breakfast, the two childhood best friends decided to spend some time studying before they had to head to the ceremony.

The recorded voice from the video played as Paul had a book in his hands about the Fremen, reading it as his back leaned against (Your Name)’s torso. The boy was in a kneeling position, his arms were wrapped around Paul's neck, forearms resting on top of his shoulders. His head was on top of Paul's, silently reading along with him, occasionally nuzzling his nose into the boy's curly hair. He was only half paying attention, focused on looking at the book, listening to the recording, and trying to be as close to Paul as possible.

“With sandworms powerful enough to cut through metal. Only the native tribes known as the Freman and one other special person, that hasn't been seen nor born for centuries known as the Haris Aldaw’ have adapted well enough to survive.”

(Your Name)’s attention was diverted when he heard that name. Haris Aldaw’. He moved his head off of Paul’s. He has heard that name before. From where, he wasn't too sure.

Paul turned his head to look at the (Hair Color) haired boy, his hazel green eyes showing worry. “(Your Name), are you okay?”

The (Hair Color) haired boy blinked before nodding. “Yeah. I'm alright. Don't worry.” He replied to the boy.

Paul let one of his hands go from holding the book, grabbing one of (Your Name)’s hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. (Your Name) welcomed the comforting pressure and did it back to him. But to his surprise, Paul pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. Then, Paul turned his friend's hand to show his inner wrist and placed a kiss on the spot, too.

The (Hair Color) haired boy felt a blush blossom onto his cheeks at the gesture. Now flustered, he looked away shyly.

Paul let his hand go and smirked to himself before he continued reading.

“Preferring to inhabit the remotest regions of Arrakis the Freman share the deep desert with the giant sandworms, known to the Fremen as Shai-Hulud. Long exposure to spice has given the tribe their characteristic blue eyes, the eyes of Ibad.”

‘I wonder if it's as blue as my eyes.’ (Your Name) thought to himself, his focus back on the book and the recording.

“Little else is known of the Freman except that they have some sort of power that controls the Earth and the Freman are dangerous and unreliable. On the other hand, much is known about the Haris Aldaw’. They are known to control elements and have other magical abilities such as being able to glide.”

(Your Name) bit her bottom lip. ‘My dream last night was about gliding… and falling.’ He thought to himself again.

“Freman Attacks make spice harvesting extremely hazardous. For the Freman spice is the sacred hallucinogen which preserves life and brings enormous health benefits. For the imperium the spice is used by the navigators of the spacing guild to find safe paths between the stars. Without spice, interstellar travel is impossible, making it by far the most valuable substance in the universe.” The voice recording concluded.

〰️

(Your Name) and Paul were now standing outside, dressed nicely for the ceremony, both dressed similarly.

The (Hair Color) haired boy turned his head to look at the bearded man in the center. Duke Leto Atreides. The man he saw as his father for many years now. He remembered when he first came to Caladan, he was confused as to how he got here and where he came from. Jessica had explained the situation, and the Duke didn't want to believe the tale, but when he saw how adamant she was, he believed her.

He took him in and cared for him like he was one of his own kids, raising him alongside Paul. Teaching him many things like reading and writing, alongside Lady Jessica. He couldn't be more graceful to the two for taking him in.

The Duke turned his head and saw the (Hair Color) haired boy looking at him. He gave the boy a subtle nod to him; a gesture he returned to him, a gentle smile on his face.

An enormous oval shaped ship landed on the ground. The ramp was placed down as the important people walked out from it. They were wearing their house clothes and walking respectfully towards them. (Your Name) wasn't exactly sure who they were but knew they were of utmost importance if they were coming to speak with the Atreides.

“Smile Gurney.” The Duke said, looking forward at the approaching visitors, his tone calm but with a touch of joking as he spoke to his trusted member.

“I am smiling.” Gurney replied monotonously, a blank expression on his always serious looking face.

(Your Name) bit his bottom lip to suppress a snicker from escaping his lips. Paul looked at him in mild amusement.

The Duke shook his head at Gurney’s deadpan response, “How much will it cost them traveling all this way for this formality?”

“Three Guild navigators and a total of 1,460,062 Solaris for this round trip.” Another trusted advisor answered beside the Duke. The Duke turned his attention back to the new visitors.

(Your Name) watched as a member of the group that arrived from the ship bow to the Duke, “By the grave of Shaddam IV of the House Corrino, ascendant to the Golden Lion Throne of Padishah Emperor of the Known Universe, I stand before you as Herald of the Change. We are witnessed by members of the Imperial Court, representatives of the Spacing Guild, and a sister of the Bene Gesserit. The Emperor has spoken.” He pulled out a scroll, unrolling it before he read, “House Atreides shall immediately take control of Arrakis and serve as its steward.” The member closed the scroll. Do you accept?

The Duke took a couple long strides, stopping at the top of the stairs, “We are House Atreides. There is no call we do not answer. There is no faith that we betray. The Emperor asks us to bring peace to Arrakis! House Atreides accepts!”

“Atreides! Atreides! Atreides!” The soldiers that stood everywhere, representing House Atreides, started chanting as the Duke made his way down the stairs to sign the paper.

Before he does, the Duke looks back at his son and (Your Name), seeing them both giving him a subtle nod in agreement, silently approving him. They watched him sign the paper using his signet ring.

As he did, (Your Name) felt a feeling in his stomach that he couldn't quite place. Like a feeling of unease. He wasn't sure why he felt it just now. ‘Probably from all the people staring at us.’ He thought to himself.

“So it is done?” Leto asked the Herald.

“It's done.” The Herald responded, face blank, not showing any emotion.

Once the deal was finalized, (Your Name) scooted closer to Paul, pressing his right arm against Paul's left one. The curly haired boy looked at the boy. He gave him a gentle smile, which he returned in kind.

He always liked Paul's smile. Paul thought the same thing about him.

Taglist

@skeletonixsstuff

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herbirdglitter · 2 months ago

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Ao3 is down so here’s a really really silly Gimli/Legolas fanfiction I wrote for my own amusement

Aragorn stood with Gimli on the ramparts, looking out over the sea of Urukai steadily marching closer and closer. They would be there by nightfall, and there was nothing they could do that had not already be done. Nothing besides listen to the heavy tramp tramp tramp of the enemy’s footfalls in the distance and contemplate their impending doom. Gimli stood in silence, seemingly undaunted by the endless waves of foes flowing towards him. Aragorn was suddenly grateful for his steady presence, and his dwarven pragmatism. One could always count on Gimli to be the voice of reason in a room full of insanity. Well almost always, Aragorn supposed. Throw he and Legolas in a room together and all bets were off. Ever since their first meeting, they had displayed a natural talent for driving all rational thoughts from each other’s heads. Nowadays, of course, they were friends, and their irrationality usually presented itself in nonsensical debates as opposed to vicious arguments, which made a nice change.

Speaking of Legolas… the elf in question came bounding up, taking the wallstairs two at a time, looking decidedly excited and sporting a mad twinkle in his eye. Both Gimli and Aragorn turned to greet their friend. He didn’t give them time.

“Aragorn, I have an idea. It is not without fault but it might just give us an edge.”

“Well let us hear it then,” said Aragorn, clapping him on the shoulder. Any ideas were heartily welcome, and Legolas had plenty of useful experience. Legolas hesitated, and glanced down at Gimli.

“There now, out with it lad,” said Gimli. “Let’s hear your plan.”

“There is the fault,” said Legolas. “I fear that it might cause offence in some way.”

“And how is that possible?” asked Gimli.

“It involves me kissing you,” replied Legolas evenly. Aragorn was suddenly quite certain that his optimism had been premature. Gimli’s eyebrows shot up.

“Well now we have to hear it,” he said with interest, and, it should be noted, not looking remotely offended.

“I agree,” Aragorn said flatly. “I would dearly love to know you plan to save us by kissing our dwarf.”

“Then hear this.” Legolas gathered them together so that they were all three facing one another in a tight circle, his hands on each of their shoulders. “The Uruks will be here at nightfall, yes? And we have too few men. Yet we are not without advantages. We have courage, and strength, and most importantly, brains. We have some of the finest, most experienced battle strategists in all of Ennor right here in our walls. We would be fools to waste that advantage. What we need is something bold, unthought of, a move they would never conceive of in a million years.”

“And this, I suppose, is where kissing Gimli comes into it.” Aragorn wondered whether it was too late to find new companions.

“Precicely. It is the last thing they would expect. If Gimli and I go behind the stables and kiss-”

“They’ll never see it coming,” finished Gimli.

“Do not tell me you’re going along with this, Gimli,” Aragorn groaned. Gimli only grinned. “And then what happens?”

“Pardon?”

“What is the rest of your plan?”

“In all honesty, I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Legolas said with a winning smile. Gimli’s grin somehow got even wider. Aragorn squinted at both of them. “So to sum up, the entirety of your plan consists of you kissing Gimli behind the stables?”

“It just might work,” said Gimli, stroking his chin.

“I’m sorry?” asked Aragorn, trying to shake the notion that he’d been hit over the head with a shovel.

“I’ll admit, it is a bit far fetched, but if it has even the slightest chance of working, is it not our duty to try?” Saying so, Gimli covered Legolas’s hand far too tenderly with his own.

“What could that possibly do?!” Aragorn spluttered.

“We have no way of knowing,” said Legolas. “But Aragorn, if we survive this, how could any of us go home to our families with our heads held high, knowing we had not done all we could to save as many lives as possible?” He gazed at him imploringly.

“Besides,” said Gimli, taking Legolas’ hand and pulling him towards the wallstairs. “I don’t see you coming up with any better ideas.” Together, they skipped off down the stairs, giggling like children. At least some people were enjoying themselves.

Aragorn turned back to stare out over the flatlands, and wondered if it were too late to change careers. He soon saw the funny side however, and removed himself to a quiet corner to laugh. It wouldn’t do to let the army see him cackling alone like a madman in the face of their impending demise. And when Eomer arrived in search of the Mirkwood prince, Aragorn informed him in the most dignified of manners that Legolas could be found showing Gimli an elven battle techniques behind the stables, and that he would no doubt welcome his input. Watching Eomer do a swift about face at the stable corner and march away scrubbing at his eyes and shaking his head raised Aragorn’s spirits tremendously, enough to carry the night through. So in a way, Legolas was right. Kissing Gimli did give them an edge after all

#ao3 #fanfiction #gimleaf #gigolas #fanfic #not my best work BUT IT WAS SO FUN

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alwayschasingrainbows · 8 months ago

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What do you think about Anne and Gilbert arriving at their house of dreams after the train ride right after their wedding, having dinner with Gilbert's great uncle, his wife, and Captain Jim, and chatting until nightfall?

I saw in some comments that people didn't like it and found it ridiculous and unrealistic. Do you think so? I'm just curious about your opinion.

0 not

Thank you so much for this question, dear @pinkenamelheart! I feel "tickled as a dog with two tails" (to quote Perry Miller) each time I get to talk about my favourite writer and her books! And Anne-related questions are such a treat since I am rereading the series right now!

Now, about the question. I think that some readers tend to project their own feelings and emotions onto their beloved characters (well, at least that's what I used to do). And so, before I'll give you my own opinion, I'd like to look at the situation from such a reader's perspective.

Maybe I am wrong, but I assume that most newlyweds would prefer to spend the first hours after the wedding party together, just the two of them, basking in the glow of their new happiness and love. Objectively, Anne and Gilbert had experienced a day full of elation, delight, joy, but also nerves. Their wedding reception had just ended: wonderful, longed for moment, filled with stress and excitement. Moreover, their union brought further changes, including the need to leave Avonlea, say goodbye to beloved family members and start a life together in a new place. In short: they had every right to be tired. They had every right to want to spend some time together, learning and teaching each other the secrets of married life.

Readers very often identify with their beloved characters and think: "I wouldn't be satisfied", "I would feel so tired after my wedding", "I would certainly have a headache after such nerves", "I would rather cuddle up with my husband/wife" . In other words, they convey their own emotions, thoughts, dreams and desires to the book characters and since this solution would not suit them and they would like to experience the first moments after marriage in a different way, they assume that it definitely applies to the book characters.

Now the question is, if I were Anne, would I be happy if my husband's relatives came to my new house immediately after the wedding reception and stayed for the next few hours? Well, since I don't have a husband, it is completely hypothetical answer, but I'm afraid I wouldn't. I am a completely different type of person - an introvert who would need to "recharge her social batteries". Naturally, I would appreciate an extremely kind gesture from the people who prepared a meal for me and welcomed me to my new place. But deep inside I would probably feel a bit overstimulated and very tired.

However, I am me and Anne is Anne. Despite her dreamy and slightly pensive nature, she is an extremely sociable girl who thrives in the company of other people. Gilbert is a warm and family-oriented person, always appreciating the kindness of others. They were both touched and pleased by the visit. For them it was a beautiful, new experience that they could share together. First memory of a dinner as husband and wife. They had their whole lives ahead of them: many days and nights together, full of kisses, whispers, tender hugs and caresses. I guess the fact that their longed for "alone time" took place a few hours later didn't make it any less romantic. In my opinion, this dinner was lovely for both of them; they made their first friend in Four Winds, listened to fascinating stories, received support and sympathy.

Moreover, this scene was much more interesting from the reader's point of view. Personally, I really enjoyed it. I also believe that Maud, for obvious reasons, could not have written scenes that are now a popular part of fanfiction. Anne and Gilbert's marriage is described in a very subtle way, yet none of us readers ever doubted that these two shared a deep, passionate love. I think that Montgomery approached the matter very skillfully, describing a scene that was interesting for the reader and (between the lines) she wove a lot of romantic feelings and warmth that the couple had for each other. In my opinion, this is a move that perfectly illustrates Maud's artistic talent and her firm belief that literature would lose its charm if it told the world everything.

That's partly why I really like this scene; it shows how warm, family-oriented and friendly people Anne and Gilbert were. Perhaps other characters, such as Valancy and Barney, would need only each other to be happy. They could have existed in a magical circle created only by the two of them. But... Anne and Gilbert needed something more. They wanted to share their happiness with the world and make the lives of others around them better.

I think that every scene should be assessed not only from reader's own perspective. We always have to take into account the characters' personalities, hopes and dreams. Anne and Gilbert were happy and thriving in this situation and that's more than enough for me.

Thank you very much again for this great and interesting question. I'm sorry that the answer is so long, I hope I won't scare you away :) I will be happy to answer any question about Montgomery's books, which I love!

#Thank you so much #Ask #Anne of green gables #Anne's House of Dreams

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studiokayotic · 1 year ago

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Beauty and the Beast - Welcome Home AU

GUYS NEW AU JUST DROPPED!! After thinking on some fics the past few days and have have fallen in love with the Royal aesthetic. i also wanted to write my own fanfiction as i was really struggling to find more that scratched my itch lol.

So in response to that, I give you a new AU:

Beauty and the Beast - a Welcome Home AU

the AU will revolve around the MC (beauty) and Wally (Beast) and be a retelling of the story.

So the beast, Wally is a prince that long ago was cursed by a fairy Queen. She saw through his Unkind heart and cursed him to be a monsterous beast once every full moon. the Curse makes him afraid to go out into the sun, for his shadow showing his beastly nature.

He is accompanied by his lifelong friends and staff at his castle. They are all also effected by this curse, they are allowed to leave the castle grounds during the day, but they must make it back by nightfall, or they risk losing themselves to the curse and turing into a monster like his Majesty as well.

The only way to break this curse is for him to fall in love by his 21st birthday. We meet the Beast shortly before his 21st Birthday, he is desperate and eager to break the curse on him.

But as the curse progresses and as it gets closer to his birthday, his symptoms of the curse get worse, so he is a monster more and more days of the month other than just the full moon. In his desperation when the MC comes across the castle in the woods, they are captured and held there. Not allowed to leave.

Will the MC and Wally be able to come together to help him brake his curse in timre? or will his desperation get the better of him?

What if he cant break the curse in time? what happens then?

(and yes there will be a Frank and Eddie side story)

i will be posting my corralating fanfic on Ao3 along with a few other sites.

#welcome home puppet show #welcome home #wally darling #wally darling au #welcome home beauty and the beast au #wally darling beast au #welcome home fan fiction

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just-reblurbs · 5 months ago

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ID: [A screenshot of an anonymous ask reading the following: Oh my god aren’t you supposed to be in an elite mutuals circle? Why the fuck are you defending losers in their 30s still participating in “fandom” and writing “fanfiction” or whatever and saying that cringy shit about cecil sweep?? Don’t tell me your gonna be one of those stupid cunts who are like 36 talking about “tumblr newbies” and acting like youre better than everyone else just because you listened to that cringy little fucking podcast instead of being on regular parts of the internet, like the fucking Homesick fans did back in like 2012. And btw I’ve been on this site probably as long as you and maybe even longer than these 35 year old “oooh you dont know who Cecil palmer is???” losers, and even when welcome to nightfall was popular I thought it was cringe as fuck. Grow the hell up. I bet you fucking defend those adults who still like young adult fiction bullshit]

END ID

How do you feel about those cringy ass “cecil palmer sweep” cunts acting like everyone who didnt know about their little podcast is new to tumblr

are you ok

#ive never done an id before but this seemed simple enough #wrote this over a year ago it was in my drafts #ah memories

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notevenanna · 2 years ago

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𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞.

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: natasha offers you a calming ride on the back of her motorcycle at dusk. reader isn’t an avenger, but stays in the compound with natasha

genre: fluff

warnings: none, but lmk if i need to add one!

word count: 1K

a/n: hello!! this is my first ever fic!! inspiration struck and i was missing nat lol. i hope i wrote her well!! constructive criticism is always welcomed, im quite new to the world of fanfiction.<3

Your hand was being led by hers as you desperately tried to supress the panic that had ambushed your body. Her hair was the colour of faded copper, twisted into a tight plait that fell down her back. Loose strands sat curled along the frame of her face and appeared almost beige underneath the artificial lights of the compound, but faded gradually to a fiery auburn as you both passed through the doorway and into the delicate saffron rays that captured dusk towards the end of the day. She wore a jet black leather jacket, silver buttons perched on the corners of the upturned folds that jutted outwards on either side, sitting on top of the subtle shoulder pads.

Her teeth were revealed in the crescent her confident smile curved into as she looked back at you - it made your knees weak and forced you to concentrate unnecessary attention towards how you were walking. Her eyes were the colour of the pine trees that were dotted around your shared trailer in Norway, rimmed with a soft mixture of cerulean and teal that reminded you of the many days you spent there together under the cobalt sky. She had a lax grip on you, your fingers intertwined as you followed her lead towards the motorbike that was planted beside the curb.

''How on earth do you ride one of those things?'' Your eyes darted across different parts of the vehicle, brows possessing a slight furrow as you tried to figure out how someone could possibly maintain their balance.

Natasha offered you an amused smirk while reaching for the helmet hooked on one end of the handle bars. ''The bike is like an extension of your body as you ride it. You steer by shifting your centre of balance.''

You couldn't help but express your confusion outwards onto your face, yet simultaneously feeling a warmth spreading across your chest at Natasha's willingness to share her passion with you.

''You'll be safe as long as you hold on tight. I'll make sure of it.'' She secured the helmet she was holding around your head, double checking it was on safely.

''I feel like a funko pop with one of these on.'' Your muffled voice expressed as you patted the sides of the helmet.

Natasha's chuckle was raspy and slow, her voice was cloaked with a deep velvet brittle that burrowed its way into your heart, making you silently grateful you were now wearing something that would hide the crimson blush pooling across your cheeks. You tucked away the slight worry that invaded your mind when you realised she would be driving without protection, neutralised by the reminder that she was an Avenger.

The gradient of tangerine had long been took over by the dwindling indigo that signalled nightfall. Your arms were still locked desperately, snaking around Natasha's waist in a futile attempt to hold on for dear life. Your body was moulded against hers, the dips and curves of your chest and hips settling perfectly against her slightly arched back. The lights were scattered endlessly with a florescent glow along the streets, the speed in which you grazed past them created smooth trails of flair that blurred in your vision.

A sublime calmness settled on the city, blanketing the few cars that remained on the streets beside you and Natasha as you sped past them. Usually, you would feel a distinct loneliness creeping upon you while cloaked under the night sky, a sensation of familiar emptiness that couldn't be explained. It always appeared in moments like these, giving them an unwanted uncanny tinge, yet it was noticeably absent next to Natasha. Your limbs eventually relaxed as she established a swift but gentle cruising pace, and you snuggled further into her back. You had never felt safer.

Natasha didn't tell you, but she could feel the faint sensation of a heart pounding with overwhelming affection against her back. She instead glanced at the slither of you that was visible in her circular rear-view mirrors, a genuine smile laced with softness sprawling upon her cheeks.

The night had warped and abstracted your perception of the previously familiar streets, so it took you by surprise when the Avengers compound unexpectedly resolved in your view. Natasha slowed the bike to a gradual halt with such care that made your heart almost burst. She lifted the helmet off your head, smirking at the slight disheveled state your hair was now in, running her fingers through it gently to tame the knots. You took her outstretched hand like you did hours earlier, swivelling your right leg over the bike and landing clumsily on the ground - but in Natasha's steady embrace.

With an imperceptible sway, she planted a graceful kiss on the apple of your left cheek, and you made sure to savour and tuck away the feeling of her lips that tickled your skin. You wanted to remember it forever.

Neither of you let go of each others hand as you walked through the door in a comfortable silence, JARVIS reciting a greeting towards the pair of you as you both allowed your connected hands to swing in the space between your frames.

Most of the team was gathered around the dining table that was settled in the centre of the common room, delicious platters of food spread across it. The remnants of Tony's ramblings dissipated from the room, heads turning and offering greetings towards the two of you as you both returned hello's. Thor suddenly sprang up from his seat with such enthusiasm that knocked the table slightly, which of course he failed to notice.

''Lady Y/N! You and Lady Natasha have returned!''

His suddenness startled you as his voice boomed with tales about his day, predominantly his excitement over some sort of Asgardian Liquor he had brought from home for the team to try. Your attention willingly fluttered elsewhere, though. Natasha had also struck up conversation with Clint and Steve, but shortly after your eyes landed on her, she gazed to the side and met them, a silent and reciprocated gratitude from the evening you spent together passing between you as you both returned to the conversations with your family.

thank you so much for reading<33

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lostmousemaid · 3 years ago

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Return to St. Ninian’s

A Redwall fanfiction by Lost Mousemaid

Approx. 2,500 words

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

The multitude of freed slaves and rescuers had spent the duration of the day traveling north toward Redwall Abbey, but Matthias knew they would still be unable to make it to his home by nightfall. Matthias and Orlando discussed briefly whether to travel until they reached the Abbey later in the night, but Matthias decided against it.

“We should rest and return home first thing in the morning. There will be a great deal of excitement once we return, so we should all at least have had enough sleep.” Matthias smiled at Mattimeo and placed a paw on his shoulder. He found himself doing this often since they were reunited in Malkariss.

Orlando looked behind him at the creatures following in their wake. The woodlanders appeared much healthier since their rescue, but still they were thin and weary. Every meal he had shared with his daughter he had scooped an extra portion to her while she was glancing away. Still, she was much thinner than when they had shared their home in the mountains. “You make a fine point, warrior. I’m sure we will all enjoy the food from your legendary tables when we arrive in the morning.”

Matthias called to the woodlanders behind them, “My friends! We will travel north a while longer. When we reach the old church of St. Ninian’s we will settle there for the night. The building is running down, but it may be nice to have a roof over our heads tonight. We will return to my home Redwall in the morning, and you are all welcome to call Redwall home too.”

A cheer rose from the creatures at the knowledge that their journey would soon end. Elmtail and Sam spun in circles with excitement. Sam called to his new friend to climb a nearby tree with him to see if they could spot the Abbey from a distance. Jess smiled fondly at the pair as they scurried off the path and rushed up a nearby oak tree, their chattering fading into the foliage above them.

Matthias had seen Mattimeo’s carefree expression change upon mention of St. Ninian’s, but he did not press him at that moment. He motioned to Orlando to give him some space, and the warrior mouse pulled ahead of the group, knowing his son would follow his pace.

Once they were out of range and could not be heard by those behind them, Matthias asked, "What’s the matter, Matti?”

Mattimeo opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it firmly. He looked back over his shoulder at Cynthia, who was walking beside Cheek. The two had become fast friends. Cynthia enjoyed his lighthearted mischief and found comfort in his company.

Not so long ago, not so far from this place, Tess had chided Mattimeo for his ill treatment of the young vole. Although he was not much older, he had been careful with the way he spoke to others and expressed his emotions and intended to stay on his best behavior, just as he had promised. He looked up at his father with a weak smile. “I’m fine. I’m just concerned for my friends. That morning after the feast, that is where they kept us. St. Ninian's. I don’t know if they would want to go back.”

Matthias felt a lump form in his throat. St. Ninian's had been crumbling into decay even when he was young, but once it had been the comfortable home to his friends the churchmice before it has been overrun by Cluny and his rats. It had not occurred to him that Slagar would have held the young ones in the church before continuing south. He wondered at the strength of the Churchmouse twins who had been born there and once called the church home. Even now they were laughing between themselves as they listened to Basil exaggerate the story of adopting the name Stag Hare. Matthias might have enjoyed a laugh too, as the story was much more elaborate than when he had met the retired foot fighter many seasons before, but he was not in the mood for laughter.

The warrior mouse was surprised that his grief for Slagar's scheme had not waned, even though Mattimeo was back safely in his company. He was aware that his son was trying his best to follow his example, but Matthias knew his young one: Mattimeo did not want to go back to the church.

“Where would you think your friends would like to sleep tonight?” the warrior asked quietly.

All around them was the peace of Mossflower woods. Moths had begun their lazy flight in the warm autumn air and crickets chirped their afternoon song in the distance. Mattimeo’s eyes wandered over the scenery before him.

“Why don’t we camp in the grass beside the road again? It hasn’t rained and the ground is dry. It’s warm too, after today.”

“That sounds like a splendid idea to me. You should ask our friends what they think.”

Mattimeo turned on one paw and made his way back to where Auma and Orlando were strolling quietly with one another. “Orlando, Auma, what do you think about—”

Walking quickly up behind him, Matthias cut him short. “No, Matti—ask everyone.”

Confusion crossed the young mouse's face for a moment. “But dad, you’re in charge.”

Matthias placed his paws firmly on Mattimeo shoulders and slowly turned him toward the crowd. “Not tonight, Mattimeo.”

…

The freed slaves relished at the idea of resting under the bright stars instead of the confines of a ruin. Suddenly, they all fell into their nightly routine. Jess led a group of the squirrels and otters in search of ingredients for their evening meal while others prepared the clearing for their night’s rest.

Tess ran up to Mattimeo and grabbed his paw. “Come on, Matti, let’s find some firewood. Orlando says he’s making a wild vegetable soup tonight!”

Basil watched the two mice run off together and nudged Matthias gently. “Did you notice, old chap? He hasn’t let go of her paw yet.”

Matthias could not help but laugh at his old friend. “Don’t get started, Basil. Don’t do to him what you did to me and Cornflower.”

Basil’s ears stood straight up in indignation. “What! Me? I say, sah, I never once made a comment regarding you and your goodwife.”

“As I recall,” Matthias taunted as he began assembling a fire pit, “You said something to Cornflower about being a 'pretty little filly' who anyone would be lucky to settle down with. You said it pointedly to someone. I wonder who that was, again?”

“You, of course,” the hare chuckled. “I bet you’re as anxious as a beetle in a bottle to get young Matti back to his mother.”

Matthias nodded sagely. “I’m just as anxious to get back to her, myself.”

…

Orlando’s cooking was as good as Auma had said it was earlier that summer. The young badger wrapped her paws around her father’s forearm. “I told them that it’s our secret that you can cook, dad, but I guess everyone knows now.”

“As long as everyone is fed and no longer hungry, they can say whatever they’d like about my cooking to anybeast.” Orlando wrapped his cloak around his daughter's shoulders. “But now, it’s time for rest.”

Slowly the weary travelers settled down for the night. Moment by moment, the increasing sounds of soft, deep breathing and loud, raucous snores filled the air. Mattimeo had laid down near his father but sleep evaded him and he rolled about restlessly. When he opened his eyes, he saw his father lying on his back, wide awake and staring at the quarter moon.

Mattimeo sat up and looked skyward with him. The moon hung luxuriously in the velvety darkness surrounded by wisps of clouds.

Careful not to wake any nearby creature, Matthias whispered, “Are you having trouble sleeping, Matti?”

Not taking his eyes from the sky above him, Mattimeo nodded.

The warrior stood and held a paw out to his son. “I can’t either. Let's go for a walk.”

…

The warriors walked silently side by side further north along the road. When St. Ninian's came into view, Mattimeo stopped suddenly and made to turn around until his father’s voice stopped him.

“Do you remember when you were young? When you couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t either. We would stay awake all night in the gatehouse. We would play games, and I would tell you stories, and most importantly—we would talk to each other, Mattimeo.”

The young mouse turned slowly back toward his father and kicked languidly at the dirt of the path. Matthias did not know why he was struggling to begin this conversation, but he knew he could not postpone speaking honestly to his son any longer.

"When did we stop talking to each other? I've always loved you. I want to know—I need to know—why? I don't want to go home without knowing that I'm the best father I can be to you, Matti."

Mattimeo looked at his father's expression. For the first time in many seasons, he felt he could speak sincerely. The words burned his throat, but he began to speak. "I don’t know what happened, dad, I don’t. One day I just—” He pinched the bridge of his nose, desperate the stop the tears from welling in his eyes. “One day I didn’t feel like I could tell you the truth anymore. I felt like everything I said was wrong, like I couldn’t do anything right and I would never be a warrior because I couldn’t be like you.” Mattimeo turned toward the darkness of the woodlands while fidgeting nervously with his paws. “I started talking to Martin instead."

The words broke Matthias's heart. He saw so much of himself in his son. He remembered how he felt sitting dejected under Martin's tapestry while Abbot Mortimer lectured him on his deepest emotions, telling him that the days of warriors had long passed. He wanted to encourage his son to speak further, instead of silencing his passions. “You talk to Martin?”

Mattimeo began casually walking forward again. “Yeah, I mean—not always. But for a long time I have. Whenever I was alone in Great Hall I would feel his presence there and I would talk to him. Now I talk to him no matter where I am.” He paused. “You must think that’s strange.”

“No, Mattimeo. I talk to Martin, too. I have since I was young.”

Mattimeo turned back toward his father, a look of awe on his face. “You did?”

Matthias smiled as he saw the spark of admiration in his son’s eyes.

“I still do.”

Mattimeo suddenly increased his pace toward St. Ninian's. Matthias followed behind, careful not to interrupt his son’s lead.

Upon reaching the church, Mattimeo pushed the doors ajar to allow the moonlight to flow into the lobby. He stood silently inside the entrance until his father stopped beside him. The inside of the building was dark, with crumbling architecture illuminated by the light streaming from the door. Even with the fresh air from the woodlands blowing in, the two mice could smell the molding books and rotting wooden furniture from where they stood, along with other smells more abhorrent to imagine. The glum reverie was only broken by the hushed breathing of the two mice until Matthias spoke solemnly.

“Mattimeo—I will not ask you to tell me anything you want to keep to yourself, but if you want to tell me something, I am here to listen to you.”

His son pointed to the far wall that was completely shrouded in darkness. “There. The fox chained us there.” His paw dropped back and his side. Matthias heard his son's voice break.

It made Matthias sick to his stomach to see the place where his son had woken in a stupor after the midsummer feast only to find that his life was forever changed. Although the fox was defeated, Matthias felt rage building in him anew.

“I didn’t want to come back here because I didn’t want to see it again," Mattimeo whispered.

Fighting the image of the harlequin mask from his mind, Matthias brought his thoughts back to his son, who was standing beside him, free and safe. “Why did you?”

“Because, dad, I want to be as strong as you are and not be scared of anything.”

Matthias stepped in front of his son and looked earnestly into the young mouse’s eyes. “Can I tell you a secret, Mattimeo?”

The seasoned warrior waited for his young son to nod in approval before continuing. “I am scared of many things, Matti. I was scared of Asmodeus. I was scared of Cluny. I was scared of losing friends that I have lost. And mostly, I was scared of ever losing you.”

He took a deep breath, ignoring the images swirling in the darkness around him. He knew they were figments in his mind. “The moment John told us you were gone was the most scared I have ever been in my life, and the most disappointed and angry I have ever been in myself. Matti, it is not wrong to feel these things, and it’s alright to be honest with those close around you who can help you. And even if you defeat your enemy, sometimes that still isn’t enough to take that fear away.”

Mattimeo had never seen his father so vulnerable. He swallowed, struggling to bring forth words. “What do you mean, dad?”

“I barely had the courage to walk into the bell tower again after the battle with Cluny. Just the memory made my heart race, but they named a bell after me so I felt a responsibility to be there when they hung it. It was difficult for me, and as far as I know no one knew how hard it was for me to be there, except your mother. Sometimes even the memory of fear is enough to open deep wounds. If you fear the memory of Slagar, or of this place, there is no shame in that. You are a stronger mouse than I am to walk here on your own.”

Mattimeo stared into the darkness, his eyes unable to focus as they watered. Matthias continued. “There is a very heavy burden with being a warrior, and I'm sorry you have to bear it. Many of our closest friends do not have the fortune to return home with us or celebrate our victories. Many creatures around you expect you to put on a brave face even when you are falling apart in your heart. I truly believe that is a quality in a good leader, to hide how you feel to encourage others—but Matti—you do not have to fall apart alone. Please remember that. If you felt you couldn’t speak to me before, I want you to know that you can. I never wanted you to feel as alone as I did when I was becoming a warrior.”

Mattimeo’s jaw began to tremble, and Matthias wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

“There is more than one way to be a warrior, son. I need you to see that because you are one, too.”

#redwall #redwall fanfiction #mattimeo #matthias the warrior #st ninians #I'm just saying that Mattimeo would need some serious therapy after that summer #and I don't think Redwall has a therapist #so Matthias needs to step it up #especially considering they should have been having these conversations anyway #also imagine how traumatic it would be to walk back by these places where they were seriously emotionally scarred #WARRIORS CAN FEEL THINGS OK

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whenstarslie · 3 years ago

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Fanfiction Masterlist

Most links will direct to AO3, though these fanfics are cross-posted in Fanfiction.net and Wattpad. Some fanfics can only be found on one of the three websites.

Note: Titles WITHOUT indication of ongoing, under renovation, on hiatus, or discontinued are completed works.

Detective Conan | Case Closed

The Case of the Phantom Detective - on hiatus

Fairy Tail

Fairy Tail Forgotten Chronicles: Bloodline Dragneel - discontinued

Fire Emblem Awakening (All Chrobin)

Blood and Snow

Dangerous

In Death, Together We Shall

Lady Tactician

Love and Spying Nobles - on hiatus

Past's Horizon - on hiatus

Talking About Lovebirds

Three Nights of New Moon - on hiatus

Way Back Home - on hiatus

Winter Moon's Rebirth

Legend of Zelda - Linked Universe AU

Around We Go - on hiatus

Blind Duty, Bloody Honor - ongoing

Devoid - ongoing

Inheritance - ongoing

Skyborne

Not-So-Ordinary Heroes AU

Not-So-Ordinary Heroes

How To Train Your Dragon Reincarnation - ongoing

Primal

Control To Protect

The Fragmented Hero series

The Fragmented Hero

Call of The Wild

Linked Reflections

Bonded As One - ongoing

Magic Kaito

The Case of the Phantom Detective - on hiatus

Mairimashita! Iruma-kun | Welcome to Demon School! Iruma-kun

A Demon King's Woes - on hiatus

Miraculous Ladybug

A Hallowed Night - on hiatus

Between Yin and Yang - on hiatus

Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

The Language of Flowers - on hiatus

Path To Nowhere

A Pawful Situation

Disguise

Her Only Master

Leash

Little Chief, Little Shackles - ongoing

Nightingale - ongoing

Stubborn

Summer Scales

Percy Jackson and the Olympians | The Heroes of Olympus

A Week With Baby Olympians - discontinued

Daughter of Hera series

Rise of Tartarus

Legend Incarnate

The Final Verse - discontinued

Heroes of Olympus: Next Generation - discontinued

Not Dead

Partners In Crime

The Riders - discontinued

Persona Series

A Promise

Beneath The Mask

Homecoming

I Will Never Forget

Okaerinasai

P3P: When The End Finally Ends

Persona: Nightfall - discontinued

Pocket Monsters | Pokémon

Gladion's Crime

The Guardian of Alola - on hiatus

Spider-Man: Spider-Verse

How (Not) To Survive The Crawling Horrors of Spider Society - on hiatus

A Purr-fectly Cat-tastrophic Week - on hiatus

Voltron: Legendary Defender (Pidge-centric)

A Pride of Lions - on hiatus

Art of The Dress

Legacy

The Guardian Spirit of the Forest - on hiatus

The Shield of Voltron

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yoomiii123 · 2 years ago

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Recollections - Chapter 2

Recollections is a collection of interconnected OneShots that span Jasper's life with Alice. They are in the same continuity, but can be read as stand-alones.

You can also find this fanfiction AO3 or FF.net.

Summary: After having met Alice in a stuffy diner, Jasper finds himself following the strange vampire and the intoxicating emotions she's displaying. However, he didn't expect that this would end with a bath and him getting his hair brushed for the first time in almost a century [Alice and Jasper's first meeting - Part 2: The Apartment.]

Timeline for this Chapter: This is part 2 of my version of Alice and Jasper's first meeting. Therefore, it takes place in Philadelphia in 1948, pre-twilight.

Word Count for this Chapter: 3'012

Trigger Warnings: none

Rating: PG

-----

October 28, 1948 - Philadelphia, PA | Part 2.

‘I can’t see you running away anymore.’ I couldn’t comprehend why I believed her. Nor why I followed her to the small apartment she had rented. It was all too much, having someone tell me about a future I had never planned nor even imagined. And her overwhelming emotions weren’t helping me process all of this either. They still intoxicated me, dulled my thoughts, and made me just want to be in her presence.

“We can wait the storm out here. Things should calm down by nightfall,” she explained, picking the gloves from her hands, and putting them down on the dresser next to the door.

I kicked my dirty boots off by the entrance, not wanting to stain the expensive-looking carpet. It wasn’t a big space, a small corner kitchen, a bed, and a sitting area with two armchairs and an antique-looking couch table. A single door led into another room.

“I thought that you might want to take a shower? It’s been a while since you had the opportunity to wash.”

I looked at her in confusion. How does she know? And what the hell is a ‘shower’? She couldn’t have meant a shower of rain, as she wasn’t gesturing towards the entrance but instead the door leading to another room.

“I’m not sure I understand,” I admitted.

“Ah, silly me. I sometimes get ahead of myself. It’s not easy to live in multiple decades at once. A shower is this new thing that’s going to get really big soon. It’s basically taking a bath but standing up,” she explained. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Without hesitation, she pulled open the door to the adjacent room. I was surprised to find a fully furnished bathroom. Alice immediately headed for the bathtub that had been pushed towards the back wall. There was a second tap attached to the wall as well, hovering multiple feet above the tub. I jumped when a jet of water suddenly started to spurt from it.

Alice laughed. It was a wonderful sound, like a dozen silver bells ringing simultaneously.

I ducked my head, embarrassed by the reaction. But this whole situation was just so strange, so unfamiliar, it made me tense. Only the endless affection that she emitted every time she looked at me, soothed my nerves slightly.

“There’s going to be so many new inventions for you to discover. But I’ll leave you to it now. If you need anything, just call out. I’ll be right outside the door.” And with these words, she disappeared and closed the door behind her.

Finally alone, I allowed myself to take a breath. She wasn’t wrong, it had been months since I last waded through a river. And one couldn’t really call that ‘washing’ either. It would probably feel nice to be clean again. Especially in her presence. But to some extent, I had gotten used to the dirt. It was like a thin suit of armour, shielding me from the outside. Hiding my battle scars from prying eyes. On the other hand, there was this huge cloud of excitement and anticipation floating just outside the bathroom door. It felt wrong to disappoint her.

Slowly, I stripped out of the layers of stolen clothing that had accumulated over the last months and stepped into the bath. The water was warm, an unexpected but very welcome surprise. I couldn’t remember when I had last had something close to a hot bath.

Standing up felt strange, so I settled down in the tub, right next to a neat line of different flasks that had been arranged on the tub’s rim. However, I couldn’t find a single bar of soap. Eying each of the containers sceptically, I eventually found one labelled ‘liquid soap’ behind multiple bottles containing something called ‘shampoo’. Bubbles accumulated as I poured some of it into my hands and rubbed them together. Whatever special new type of soap it was, at least it behaved somewhat like the product I used to know. And it did its job of removing most of the dirt from my body. Unfortunately, my hair was an entirely different story.

I had owned a comb back in my Confederate days. A going-away gift from my mother. It survived the human war but was quickly lost after my transformation. Broken by the incomparable strength of a newborn vampire. Peter had loaned me his a few years back when I still travelled with them. But by then some of the strands had already been so hopelessly tangled that I’d given up immediately. I didn’t have better luck now, standing in front of the small bathroom mirror, towel around my hips, trying to separate them with my fingers. Cutting it off would probably be the most practical avenue now. I would ask Alice for scissors later.

I had only just turned from the mirror when a loud protest suddenly resounded from the other room. “No!”

Alice entered the bathroom without warning, taking me by surprise. I instinctively snarled at the intruder, ready to jump and dismember her.

Regret flooded her tiny body and as she defensively raised her hands, I slowly relaxed. She was no danger to me, even if she wanted to. She probably couldn’t even properly reach my neck.

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, her eyes fixated on my bare chest. I clenched my jaw, readying myself for the alarm and disgust I was used to sensing at the sight of my scarred skin. But there was nothing but pure delight and affection from her. It was worse.

I turned away from her. There was no escaping her emotions but at least I wouldn’t have to bear the fondness in her gaze anymore.

My behaviour hurt her. I could feel the sting. “So sorry, I didn’t want to startle you. But I had a vision and… Please, do not cut your hair. Let me help, I’m sure we can fix it.”

I didn’t react to her demand. I still couldn’t understand why she cared. Her feelings were indisputable; she was in love with me. Some future version of me. But whoever that man, deserving of her love, was, it wasn’t me.

“There’s something fresh to wear for you on the washstand.”

I couldn’t stand the resignation in her voice. And despite it having been years since I last tried to soothe someone’s emotions, I carefully reached out to hers to lessen her grief. The door closed again without me knowing if it had worked.

xxxx

Despite her having pointed it out earlier, I was surprised to find fresh underwear and socks, brown trousers, and a tan shirt on the washstand. The amazement only grew, when I put them on finding that everything fit perfectly. That gift of hers truly was something.

I gathered my discarded clothes from the floor, folding them as neatly as possible without getting the new ensemble dirty. Alice immediately picked them from my hands when I returned to the other room, carelessly throwing them into the trash can next to the kitchen aisle. There was so much determination in her action that I didn’t dare to interfere. One look at her content face and I was disarmed. By such a tiny woman. This is laughable. What am I even doing here?

“I hope your shower was nice?” she asked, disappearing into the bathroom.

Unsure whether she wanted me to follow her, I buried my hands in the pockets of my new trousers. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Such a gentleman,” she purred, re-appearing in the doorway. “And the clothes fit?”

I nodded, evoking a content sigh from her.

“I’m glad my eye measurements are getting better. I’ve been training them.”

I had no idea what to reply to that. But I didn’t have to say anything at all. Alice seemed to have this all planned out already, gesturing towards one of the armchairs, a brush in hand. “May I help with your hair now?”

Pure anticipation and joy hit me as she spoke, making it impossible to refuse her. I wondered if she had already seen the outcome of this discussion, as I turned to the sitting area. Before I could even take a proper step towards it, Alice sped past me, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. The corners of my mouth twitched. How long has she waited for this to happen?

Slowly and with one eye always trained on her, I lowered myself to the floor. Alice had arranged herself in a cross-legged position, waiting with eager fingers for my head to get close enough that she could get to work. I couldn’t remember anyone ever being this eager to be so close to me.

Her face eventually disappeared behind the back of my head. But I didn’t need to see her to know how content she was with the turn of events. Still, I was careful to pull one of my legs in close enough that it would be easy to get away, should her hands wander too far around my neck.

My apprehensiveness soon dissipated. Alice’s emotions quickly had me encompassed in a cloud of joy and warmth as she gently separated the tangled strands of my hair. Pure euphoria ran through my veins, whenever her fingers accidentally brushed against my scalp or forehead. The darkness of the past decades never seemed farther away, and I felt myself closer to the blissful trance that I imagined heaven to be than should ever have been possible for a damned creature like me.

I couldn’t tell for how long we had been sitting in silence when the sunlight broke through the clouds outside, illuminating the room and reflecting in fine crystals off our skin.

Alice sighed contently. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your hair is in the sunlight? It’s like rich honey, almost golden.”

Her fingers gently ran through a few strands on the left side of my head. I couldn’t believe that they passed through without being stopped. She had truly been able to separate the mess. At least a few strands of it.

“My mother did,” I replied. She had always loved my hair, wishing that her daughter would have inherited her father’s blonde as well, rather than her own muddy brown.

Regret suddenly stained Alice’s perfectly positive emotional compass as she sighed again. “I can’t remember my human life.”

“Mine grows hazier by the year too,” I tried to console her. Somehow, I couldn’t stand to feel such sorrow from her.

“That’s not how I meant it. I cannot remember anything of my human life. I never could. When I woke from the transformation, I had no recollections at all. I didn’t even know my name… Until you told me.” The regret slowly disappeared, being replaced with a rejuvenating burst of affection.

I wanted to remind her that it couldn’t have been me but then spotted the corner of her drawing sticking out from the coat hanging over the backrest of the other chair. She was talking about a vision. I reached out and, as Alice let go of my hair for a moment, closed my fingers around the paper. She didn’t react to what I was doing, immediately returning to her task as soon as my head was back within her reach.

“How long have you been seeing me?” I asked, examining her rendition of a future me again, unable to believe that the scene was truly ever going to happen. And in less than a decade, she said!

“You were the first person I saw, immediately after my transformation. That was in the Spring of 1920.”

1920, I mused. She had waited 28 years to find me. “Why didn’t you come looking for me earlier?”

“I thought about it,” Alice admitted, her fingers pausing. “But every time I made up my mind, our future disappeared. I couldn’t risk that.”

My eyes returned to the drawing as she continued reminiscing. “There were a few times where I almost did…”

Her sudden anguish met me with full force. I winced and turned around, but her eyes were closed.

“I’ve seen you die so many times…,” she whispered.

Although her pain hurt me as well and I wanted nothing more than to make it go away, I couldn’t. I was too stunned by the insanity of the situation. She, a person I had only met a few hours ago, mourned the possibility of my death with such force that she easily outshined Maria in her best days. Even Peter, who I considered my closest friend, didn’t compare.

Alice opened her eyes again and smiled at me. Her torment disappeared as quickly as it had shown up. Her hands reached out and gently turned my head away from her, so she could continue her work.

It took me a few seconds longer to compose myself. But once I did, I returned to examining the drawing in my hands.

“Who are they?” I finally asked.

A new wave of her affection washed over us. Not romantic love, but the care one experienced for family. I barely remembered it from my human days.

“The Cullens,” she said. “When I first saw them, it was just Carlisle and Edward. Carlisle is the oldest one, he considers himself the father of their family.” She pointed at a fair-haired man in the middle of the picture.

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean he’s the leader of the coven?”

“They consider themselves to be more of a family than just a coven,” she explained.

I filed her remark away under inexperience. She probably hadn’t seen too many covens yet. Or she would know that our kind couldn’t live together without a strong leader. Especially not in such a large group.

“Carlisle is married to Esme, the one on his right. She joined them shortly after I first saw them. Edward’s the one next to her.”

I followed the faces she was pointing out. They all seemed happy in her rendition, smiling at the camera, arms wrapped around each other. I could have been fooled into believing that it was a family picture if I hadn’t known they were vampires.

“Rosalie was the next one Carlisle turned. That was in 1933. Beside her is her husband, Emmett. Carlisle turned him just over a decade ago, in ‘35. I haven’t gotten around to finishing him yet but there should be another drawing of him around here somewhere if you want to see it.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said. Her sketch was enough to make out that this Emmett was a bear of a man. Taller than me, if the drawing was to scale, and at least one-and-a-half times as wide.

“You are really going to like him. I’ve seen you two cooking up all sorts of shenanigans. Plus, Emmett really likes to brawl. He hasn’t won against you so far though.” Alice chuckled.

I gently shook my head and carefully re-folded the paper. This was crazy. Me, cooking up shenanigans. Fighting for fun. She must have gone insane from being alone for too long. And despite how healing her presence is for me, I shouldn’t entertain her fantasies any longer. It’s time to go.

Alice's fingers froze and when I turned to her, there was a blank expression on her face. She didn’t react to me getting up and returning her drawing either. Only when I walked over to the trashcan to look for my coat, her eyes finally blinked, and she jumped from her spot.

“You’re leaving. Why do I see you leaving?! You can’t leave!” Her voice was alarmed, and her emotions were quickly overtaken by sadness and frustration.

I tried to calm her down, but my talent betrayed me. I couldn’t get a grasp on her feelings.

“Where are you even going to go? Back to Maria?! She’ll kill you. And if she doesn’t do it herself, one of the newborns will! You’ll refuse to feed and then your hunger will mess with your brain and…” A tearless sob cut her off. “Can’t you see that I am trying to help you?”

I was frozen by her sorrow, unable to walk out the door. “No one can help me.”

“I can. Carlisle can. I’ve seen it. You just have to trust me, Jasper,” she pleaded. I had never imagined that a body as tiny as hers would have been able to emit such earth-shattering despair.

I’m hurting her, I suddenly realised. I was hurting that perfect little creature that had brought me nothing but relief from my depression since the moment I met her. “Alice…,” I started, unable to finish the sentence.

“No, you listen to me,” she said, stepping up to me. She had to bend her head back considerably to look up to me. But there was determination on her face. “I’ve waited too long to just let you go. You’re hurting. You’ve been hurting for years. But you don’t have to, Jasper. You don’t have to be that person you hate anymore. You don’t have to kill humans just to survive.”

“We’re vampires. That’s what we do,” I scoffed.

“Not all of us. Carlisle doesn’t. Esme doesn’t. Edward doesn’t. Rose and Emmett don’t. I haven’t—well, except for the occasional slip-up. I know you’ve wondered about the eyes. It’s animal blood, Jazz. Animal blood turns our eyes golden. And it has been sustaining me for the last 28 years.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Animal blood? That was crazy. Even crazier than her story of vampires living as a family. But she believed every word she said with her whole heart. And her eyes… I swayed and caught myself at the wall next to me. “Living off animal blood. Can such a thing really be possible?”

“It is,” Alice replied to my thoughts which I had unintentionally spoken aloud. “I can show you, if you let me.”

There it was again. The hope she had gifted me before. And this time I was one hundred percent positive that it wasn’t coming just from her.

I nodded slowly. “Show me.”

#Recollections #jalice #jasper hale #alice cullen #jalice fanfic #jalice fanfiction #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #jalice first meeting #pre-canon #canon compliant

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shewhohangsoutincemeteries · 4 years ago

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lay over

Peter Quill x Reader

Prompt: “am i your lock screen?” “you weren’t supposed to see that.”

Requested by: @starlord7555

Summary: five years after the battle of earth, you are helping run the avengers and find yourself looking forward to every brief visit the team gets from your galactic counterparts.

Warnings: smut, fluff, vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), shower sex, unprotected sex, sexual over-stimulation, adult language,

Word Count: 4,099

Got a Request? Prompt List: here

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a/n: full disclosure, I have not proof-read this but I’m too tired to do so and overdue on posting. Enjoy :)

“You know, I could spend every day for the next ten years training my ass off, but I still don’t think I’d ever actually win one of these no-powers-allowed fights.” you pointed out jokingly as you pushed yourself back up off the floor, having just been knocked on your ass by Peter Parker. You brushed a few wayward strands of hair out of your face with the back of your hand, and he bounced happily on his heels as the two of you caught your breath. “Not while you’ve got those super-special-spidey reflexes playing in your favor.”

He grinned back at you, one corner of his mouth rising in a crooked, charming smirk. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his brow and the same was darkening the collar of his shirt and the curls of his hair. The two of you had been sparring for the last hour and a half, and you knew you looked worse than he did.

“No, but it’s cute that you keep trying,” he replied in an easy taunt. His smile widened when you rolled your eyes at him, and he laughed cheerfully before conceding, “Your reaction time is getting better.”

“Thanks.” The two of you began trading blows again, and you flinched away when he landed a hit on your shoulder. “How do they not count as a superpower, by the way?”

Peter shrugged, ducking under a wide swing you threw, using the movement to sidestep and get behind you. You turned quickly on the ball of your foot, catching him by surprise with a spinning kick. ‘It’s not like I can turn them off. Besides, I don’t need them to kick your ass.”

The two of you were dressed for training, and at twenty-one, Peter Parker was a more capable opponent than ever. His shoulders had broadened slightly in the last five years, his muscles more defined and his hair worn a little longer. Still, he had the same almost lanky frame, and the same soft, disarming features he’d had when you’d first met him.

You’d been the same age before the Blip, and he’d been the one to introduce you to Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers before Thanos’ attack after he’d caught you using your abilities at school. Hell, it was his heightened senses that had tipped him off about you in the first place. But he’d disappeared during the Blip and you had remained, aging five years before you got to see him again. It had been more than a little disconcerting for him when he’d returned. Still, despite that adjustment you were as close a pair of friends as ever, and as some of the longest serving members of the Avengers, you spent a lot of your free time together.

You were living at the compound full time, leading the team alongside Sam and Bucky. Peter was attending classes at NYU and still living with his aunt, but he was at the compound at least three times a week, often working out of the labs Tony had set up with him years ago to upgrade and experiment with tech. the only person he might have spent more time with lately than you might have been Bruce.

“Don’t get cocky, web-head.” you snarked back at him as the two of you circled each other slowly, eyeing his movements warily. Peter had been thoroughly beating you for the entire training session, but only just. His heightened reflexes meant that he would always beat you in a fight where you couldn’t use your abilities, but you’d spent the last two months focusing on your hand-to-hand combat with Bucky, and it showed. “You know I’d destroy you in a real fight.”

“Oh, c’mon. We’re like fifty-fifty.” he argued, dodging another kick you aimed at him. It was true; your abilities might make you hard to pin down and give you a definite edge in a fight, but his spider-sense meant he was able to keep up. It also made the two of you a hell of a pair in a battle. “And I’ve got some new tech you haven’t seen yet.”

“Ooh, color me intrigued.”

“I’ll show you la—” he stopped suddenly, straightening and turning towards the windows. “EDITH?”

“Nothing to – A ship has just entered the atmosphere above us.” the A.I. corrected itself midsentence calmly.

“That spidey-sense of yours never ceases to amaze, Pete.” you told him as the two of you moved to the windows. Picking something up before EDITH’s sensors was impressive to say the least. You both craned your necks to watch the sky, and a smile slowly grew on your face as a ship came into a view.

“Did you know they were coming?”

You shook your head, eyes still on the sky. “I haven’t had an alert over the comm system in weeks, not even from Wakanda. EDITH, send a message out to everyone on the current residential list; tell them to expect company when they get home. And contact FRIDAY; I’m sure Pepper will want to bring Morgan by once school lets out.”

“Right away.”

Peter rolled his eyes in amusement as he watched you bounce in place. “You really have no chill when it comes to this guy, you know.”

“Shut up, Parker,” you shot back. “You’re just worried you’re my second favorite Peter.”

You winked at him cockily as his mouth fell open in mock-offense. You pointed finger guns at him, snapping your fingers and disappearing with a muted popping sound. You reappeared in the same second, now standing at the front door downstairs. You could barely make out Peter’s answering bellow as he came thundering down the stairs after you, no doubt exasperated at your sudden teleportation. You heard a dull thump; rather than take the time to walk down the stairs, he’d clearly jumped the rail to the landing below.

“I better not be!”

***

Peter Quill was one of the last to saunter out onto the lawn from the ship, a cocky smirk on the edge of his lips and his eyes squinting against the afternoon sun. The light caught in his hair as he joined the other Guardians on the grass, blonde shining honey gold. He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling a long breath of air of his home planet. His smile broadened as he opened his eyes and caught sight of you, stepping out of the main building, Peter Parker by your side.

You cast a brief glance over the rest of his team, your gaze lingering on Gamora for a moment. She stood beside her sister, her expression a polite kind of friendly. She nodded in greeting when she caught your eye, and you turned gaze back to Quill. “This is unexpected.”

He shrugged a shoulder, stepping forward until he was barely three feet from you. “We were in the area,” he replied easily, and Rocket scoffed beside him, rolling his eyes.

“No, we weren’t.” Drax corrected him, genuinely confused by Quill’s claim. “You said you wanted to see Y/N.”

Quill rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Drax, c’mon, man.”

Your lips quirked to one side in amusement. “You could have let us know you were coming.”

“Why, you got plans?”

Your teeth caught your bottom lip as your smile widened, and you jerked your head toward the man standing beside you. “Peter was going to show me some new tech, but I’m sure he’d prefer Rocket’s opinion.”

The raccoon’s ears flicked forward in interest; his eyebrow cocked. “Yeah?”

Peter nodded, an almost boyish excitement lighting his features. And despite Rocket’s brash, dismissive attitude towards Earth’s current level of tech, he was always more than happy to offer his opinion and advice to your crime-fighting partner – even if it came with a healthy dose of sarcasm and derision. “I’ve been playing with some new ideas, working on my own version of those suspension traps you showed me last time. Wider range, triggered by sudden displacement and reappearance of body heat.”

You smacked his arm. “You sneaky son of a bitch. That’s how you were going to beat me?”

“You and anyone else faster than me,” he shot back with a wink.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Oh, honey. I’m still gonna find a way to kick your ass.”

“Now who’s getting cocky?”

You snickered, shaking your head and turning to head back into the building. The Guardians followed after you, and both Peters fell into step close behind you. “Help yourselves to anything in the kitchen, and you’re welcome to any of the amenities on the grounds. If you need supplies, give the list to EDITH; she can have pretty much anything delivered from the city within the hour.”

“Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson are on their way back to the compound now,” the A.I. announced coolly as you came to stop in the foyer. “Dr. Banner should be here by nightfall. I took the liberty of notifying the Langs, but they are currently unavailable.”

“Thanks, EDITH.”

“Mrs. Stark is on her way.”

You turned to Nebula. “I thought you might want to see Morgan. She asks about you whenever I see her.”

The woman nodded, a grateful, awkward smile on her face. “Thank you.”

Quill stepped into your side as the others dispersed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “It’s so hot when you get all commander-in-charge like that.”

You scoffed a laugh, pushing him away. “Cool your jets, Space Cowboy. I need a shower.”

***

Your breath left you in catching moan as your back met the tiles behind you, melting into a giddy laugh before your lips were crushed in a kiss by the man holding you against the wall. You wrapped your arms around Quill’s neck, one hand sliding through the hair at the back of his head as he slid his tongue into your mouth. His body pressed hard against your own, his naked thigh pushing between your legs to press against your sex.

The hot water hammered down on the two of you, your whole body warm and tingling with his touch. His lips left yours to tease the side of your throat, his teeth grazing against your pulse point and up to your earlobe as his hand slid down over your naked hip, slick with vanilla and jasmine bodywash. He took hold of your thigh, hitching it up against his side.

You moaned again, louder than before, grinding down on his thigh. You grabbed hold of his bicep for leverage, rolling your hips into him. You other hand fumbled down his stomach, nails grazing over his abs before your fingers encircled the base of his cocked and squeezed. Peter grunted against the curve of your collarbone in approval as you stroked him slowly. He palmed your breast roughly with one hand, biting down on your shoulder. “Holy shit, I’ve missed you.”

You smiled, breath catching and head tilted back, your eyes closed against the spray of the shower. You gave his cock a playful squeeze. “I noticed.”

Peter snickered, his laughter catching as you swiped your thumb over the head of his cock. He pinched your nipple hard in response and you gasped, hips faltering for a moment. His lips finally found yours again as the roll of your hips became hurried and more disjointed, your breath quickening. His tongue slid over your own almost languidly, his stubble scratching at your chin. You carded your fingers through his hair and his hand slid back up your side, tickling at your waist before he took hold of you hip again.

His grip was hard, enticingly strong, his fingers digging into your flesh as he forced your movements to stop and pinned you harder against the wall. You couldn’t help the whine of complaint you made in response, and he broke the kiss, chest heaving for a moment as he caught his breath. He paused long enough to shoot you a cocky wink before he fell to his knees in front of you.

Peter pressed a kiss to the skin below your navel, inhaling through his nose to drink in the scent of you before burying his face between your thighs. His tongue curled around your clit and he pressed his forearm to your stomach, hand clutching at your hip, holding you in place as you tried to buck up against his mouth. His other hand travelled up the back of your leg, hooking under your knee and hooking it over his shoulder.

You gripped blindly at the top of the shower partition for balance, your other hand fisting in his hair. Peter hummed against you, hand moving up your thigh to caress your ass. He broke away from your cunt to press teasing, biting kisses to your inner thigh, his hand moving from your ass to roll his fingers over your clit, soaking them in your arousal before burying two of them inside you. He sucked a mark into your thigh, and your eyes rolled back as he returned his talented mouth to your clit.

Peter tortured you like that, fucking you slowly with his mouth and hand until the leg you stood on was shaking and your hand was so tight in his hair your fingers were cramping. You’d come more than once, every high he brought your to only half gone before he began building you to another.

“Pete—fuck, Peter…” you groaned through gritted teeth, moaning when he hummed against you in response. You tugged his head back forcefully, pursing your lips to hide a smile when he grinned cockily up at you, eyes squinting against the spray of the shower. He reached down to fist his cock in his hand, withdrawing his fingers from you to pinch your clit instead. His smirk widened when you jerked in response. “Quill, if you don’t hurry up and fuck me right now, I swear to whatever god you believe in, I—”

Peter was on his feet before you could finish your threat, taking hold of your thighs and lifting you. Your surprise at the sudden shift bubbled out of you in a laugh, and you wrapped your legs around him. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as his hands squeezed your ass reflexively. Peter pressed his forehead to your own, nuzzling his nose against yours. “You know I’m half-god, right?”

“And all cheeseball,” you retorted jokingly, grinning as his jaw dropped in mock offense. You grinned, pulling him into another kiss, the gesture long, languid and yet still almost aching with need. He groaned into it as you reached down to take hold of his shaft, stroking him slowly and shuddering as the head of it pressed into you.

Peter spoke again, his breathless voice teasing, affectionate and cocky. “Just remindin’ you in case you feel the need to invoke a god’s name in the next few minutes or so.”

You smacked his chest, your response melting into a moan that he echoed as he lowered you onto his cock. His lips found yours in a harsh, despite kiss as he began to fuck you in long, steady strokes.

“How are you always so fucking tight?” he muttered, his lips brushing against your sternum. He dragged his face your nipple, stubble grazing along the wet, sensitive skin before he sucked into his mouth. He circled it with his tongue, catching it between his teeth and tugging. You grabbed at his shoulder, your other hand returning to the top of the partition to leverage yourself over him. You pushed your hips into his with every thrust, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing off the tile. “You keep squeezing me like that, sweetness, and I’m not gonna last as long as I’d like…”

You caught his earlobe between your teeth for a moment before speaking in his ear, a shiver running down his back. “I’m not kicking you out right away, Star Lord… you’ll get another go ‘round. Just make this one good.”

Peter growled into your neck, biting down hard enough to make you gasp. He kissed you again, roughly, his hips pounding into yours. Any break to breathe was filled with cursing and grunting moans, almost obnoxiously loud in the steam-filled room. You jerked suddenly as overwhelming sensation met your clit, your body arching into his as your toes curled and your whole body tightened. He’d unhooked the detachable showerhead from above you, turned it to jet and brought it down to your clit, and you could feel his smirk against your lips as you came again.

Each bounce on his cock brought the rush of water back over your clit, and your nails scored his shoulders and back as you clung to him. You released him only to grope at his wrist, urging the showerhead away from you. But Peter shook his head, lips teasing along your jaw.

“Not a chance, sweets.” he growled, his other hand tightening almost painfully on your ass. “You don’t get to stop coming until I’m finished.”

You whined in response, hips seizing as another wave hit you. Peter groaned as you tightened around him, his thrusts losing their rhythm for a moment. You arched your neck back, eyes half closed, and Peter’s lips found your throat once more, sucking a mark into the skin below your jaw. “Fuck, Peter… I can’t…”

“Hold out for me, Y/N.” he murmured back, barely audible over the sound of the water. It was beginning to cool, running too long, sending goosebumps over your over-sensitized skin. Your nipples brushed against his chest with every thrust, your hair slick and sticking to your neck. “I’m so close, baby… I’m so fucking close, baby. God—”

The showerhead clattered against the wall as Peter released it, his hips almost buckling as he finally came, his face buried in the side of your neck. You whimpered, body shaking with aftershocks as he lowered you to the floor, hands pressed to the walls for support, your body held up by his still pressed against yours.

He kissed your cheek, giggling almost deliriously in your ear as the two of you caught your breath. His hands came to rest on your hips, trailing over the skin carefully to your waist. You slung an arm around his neck, pulling him into a kiss, reaching past him with your other hand to turn off the shower. “It’s good to see you too, Peter.”

***

You scrubbed a towel through your hair, sitting at your vanity and watching Peter through the mirror. You’d dressed in a pair of shorts and an old tee shirt, and EDITH had announced that all but Bruce had since arrived at the compound. “So, how far out of your way did you go this time?”

Peter shrugged, nodding absentmindedly along to the music you had playing, his own hair an endearing tangle of still-damp curls. He was stretched out on your bed, a towel wrapped around his waist and his back pressed against the headboard and pillows. He had one hand tucked behind his head, the smallest of smirks on his lips. “A day or two. Maybe more.”

“So, you’re thinking about hanging around then?” you asked, turning around to face him, leaving your towel on the vanity. “You keep doing this and that crew of yours is going to hate me.”

Peter chuckled, shaking his head. “We’re between jobs. We’ve just been paid; they could use a few days leave.”

“And the free room and supplies just made us all the more appealing, huh?” you teased, moving towards the bed.

“And a couple of other things.” he held a hand out to you and you took it, making yourself comfortable and curling up into his side. He draped his arm around your shoulders, and you didn’t release his hand, holding it by your shoulder.

You smiled, but the expression slowly faded into something more somber as a thought returned to you. “So… Gamora…?” Peter exhaled, a crease forming between his brows. “I take it you two…”

He shook his head. “She’s… she’s sticking around for Nebula. And we’re friendly, it’s just…” He sighed, but his voice wasn’t pained like it had been in the past. “Sometimes, she’s so close to who I remember. Which makes sense, I guess. She’s the same person, but… she’s not. Whatever we went through, whatever it is that made the old Gamora love me, she doesn’t have that, she didn’t go through the same stuff. So, she doesn’t see me the same way as the other Gamora did. And she can’t even… she doesn’t know that Gamora. She can’t see what we had. The whole thing is like… she told me, hearing the stories, it’s like I’m talking about somebody else. Someone she’s never met. And she’s right.”

“Peter, I’m sorry.” You murmured, leaning your head against his shoulder. You squeezed his hand gently. “I thought maybe… it’s been three years since you found her, and with Nebula wanting to stay with you guys—”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” he assured you softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple before resting his chin on top of your head. “Like I said, she’s not the same. She’s not the person I… my Gamora is gone. And it might’ve taken a while, but I… I get that. It just took me a while to wrap my head around it.”

The two of you fell silent for a while, the weight of the conversation settling over you like a blanket. You played with his fingertips absentmindedly, eyes unfocused.

“You hungry?”

You looked up, offering him a warm smile. “Starved.”

Peter’s face broke into a cocky, teasing smirk. “Yeah, you are.”

You scoffed at him, elbowing him in the side. He laughed, shying away from you, arm withdrawing from your shoulders. “We can order from that steakhouse; get it delivered?”

“Works for me.”

“And you won’t even have to put pants on,” you teased, laughing as he poked you in the side in retaliation. “Is it too early to order? Hand me my phone?”

Peter picked it up from your bedside table, the screen lighting up as he did. You snatched it out of his hand quickly, your cheeks warming slightly. A surprised, smug grin slowly bloomed on Peter’s face. “Am I your lock screen?”

“…You weren’t supposed to see that.” you admitted awkwardly, face flushed. Your background picture was a photo of the two of you that you’d taken on a previous visit; grinning at the camera like fools, caught up in the music you’d been blasting at two a.m. He’d been emulating everything he thought a Rockstar should be, over the top and frankly, adorable. You pushed yourself away from him, moving to clamber back off the bed and away from the embarrassment of being caught out. “It’s not a big deal, I just thought it was a good picture, and—”

He caught hold of your wrist, dragging you back to him. He pulled you on top of him, legs on either side of his, trapping you there with hands on your waist. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come with me,” he repeated, his expression surprisingly earnest. He released your waist to take hold of your hands instead, enclosing them between both of his. “Come see the universe.”

“Quill, you’re being—”

“C’mon, Y/N.” he insisted, his tone an almost boyish excitement at the idea. “It’ll be great! You and me and the whole universe to see. You’ll love it, I promise.”

“Peter, I—” you struggled to find the words, taken aback by his sudden proclamation. This was something you thought about, late at night when you were too tired to think of all the reasons it wouldn’t work. “I ha-have responsibilities, here. I can’t just—”

“Just think about it,” he urged, his head ducked down to meet yours beseechingly. “We could be like this all the time. We could… we could be together.”

“And… you want that?” you couldn’t help but ask. You knew Peter’s reputation – Drax and Rocket had alluded to it more than enough – and up until now you weren’t entirely sure if you were his only… hell, you didn’t know what to call it.

He nodded, hands tightening slightly on your own. “We fit, you and me.” you swallowed, halfway torn between running from the room declaring your avenging too important and throwing yourself into his arms. “Just… say you’ll think about it? Please?”

After a moment, you nodded slowly, wetting your lips nervously. “I’ll think about it.”

tags: @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink

If you would like to be tagged in future peter quill stories, or in my marvel stories in general, please send me an ask :) I hope you enjoyed it, and please like/reblog/comment :)

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animesmolbean · 6 months ago

Text

Guardian of Light

(Female)

Hello! Welcome to my rewritten story for Dune and Kingdom Hearts!

Some things have changed, and the story has more added detail that helps with the story.

Regarding updates, they will be slower because I really want to explore a bit of the story, especially for future chapters. But I'll try to update as soon as I can.

As shown up above, this is the female version of the chapter! The male version will be published tomorrow (Tuesday). The female and male verison will have some differences (if you read both of them) to show the different actions taken by the characters. This will mostly affect the intimacy part of the story and not really the actual plot.

I'll link the book here if you are interested in reading it!

With all of that out of the way,

Hope you enjoy the first chapter! ♥️

Dreams are messages from the deep.

“My planet, Arrakis, is so beautiful when the sun is low. Rolling over the sands… You can see spice in the air. At nightfall, the spice harvesters land.

The outsiders and their army of demons race against time to avoid the heat of the day. They ravaged our lands in front of our eyes. Their cruelty to my people is all I've known.

These outsiders, The Harkonnens, came long before I was born. But their demon army only came recently with them.

By controlling the spice production, they become obscenely rich. Richer than the Emperor himself.

Our warriors couldn't free Arrakis from the Harkonnens or the demons that lurk in the shadows, but one day, by the imperial decree, they were gone.

Why did the Emperor choose this path? And who will our next oppressors be?”

〰️

Chapter 1: Accepting a Deal

〰️

Year 10191

CALADAN, Homeworld of House Atreides

“I've been having these weird thoughts lately. Like is any of this for real… or not?”

A (straight/curly/wavy) (hair color) girl slowly woke up. The soft glow from her light of her room, ridding her of any feeling of sleep.

She sat up, running her fingers through her hair. She looked around, seeing the familiar room she was given when she was a kid.

“It was… just a dream.” She whispered.

〰️

Meanwhile, a young boy was lying on a bed, shirtless, asleep, but tossed and turned a little as he dreamed. He was dreaming about something. Or rather, someone. Her (Hair Color) hair gently blowing in the wind. She turned towards him, her beautiful sapphire blue eyes sparkling with happiness as she smiled widely.

His beautiful best friend since they were kids, the girl who is always the light of his life. (Your Name).

However, there was someone else with her. It was another girl that wore a different outfit compared to (Your Name). The boy didn't know who this was, for he could only see the side of her face. But he knew that he had dreamed of her before too.

The boy's hazel green eyes opened, groaning softly, sitting up as the moving light came and shined against his shirtless form. He sat up in his bed, looking down.

‘What could that dream mean?’ He thought to himself.

〰️

The same young boy was now in a dining room, sitting at the table, deep in thought as he ate his breakfast.

An older woman who sat at the end of the table spoke up, breaking him out of his thoughts. “It's good you're up early. I just wish (Your Name) could be too.”

〰️

(Your Name) stood outside, in a loose gray long sleeve, baggy black Capri pants and her boots were off, placed by a rock.

She dipped her feet into the large, cool body of water, walking until the water was halfway to her calves. She looked out towards the horizon, in deep thought.

〰️

“Your father wants you two in full dress before the Emperor's Herald arrives.”

The brunet boy raised his head up at this news, “Full dress? Military?”

“Ceremonial.” Jessica, the woman's name and his mother replied.

Paul let out a sigh. “Why would we have to go through all this when it's already been decided?” Paul asked.

“Ceremony.” Jessica simply replied.

The doors to the room suddenly opened, making the two at the dining table turn. Paul's lips lifted up into a smile at who was standing there. (Your Name).

“Ah…” (Your Name) chuckled awkwardly. “So sorry I'm late.” The girl walked over to the spot between Paul and Jessica.

“Nice to see you here (Your Name). And with shoes on this time.” Jessica lightly teased her daughter-like figure. She knew this girl since she was around five years old. She remembered the day the first time she brought her to Caladan.

〰️

Jessica was out late at night, having trouble sleeping. The sky was dark, stars twinkling and the moon being the only thing providing light, making anything the light shone on glow a soft blue.

She walked along a beach that Caladan was known for, when saw what looked like a shooting star in the sky. But she saw it was falling towards the ground, not going across the sky like a shooting star normally would.

She watched the bright light and splash into a large body of water she was near. She walked closer to the water, her feet touching the soft sand. What she saw made her eyes widened.

What fell into the water was not a rock. But a child. She looked very young, like about five years old. She wore a white loose shirt with black shorts and no shoes.

Acting fast, she took off the cloak she was wearing and grabbed the wet, unconscious child and carried her back to the castle to be taken care of.

Jessica walked towards one of the spare rooms, requesting one of their servants to find clothes for the child. The female servant did what she was told while Jessica laid the child on the bed.

She got a closer look at the girl. She had (Hair Color) hair, (Skin Color) skin, all wet from landing in the water. She frowned and stroked the girl's wet hair.

This action caused the child to stir and mumble. Jessica watched the childhood slowly come to. When she opened her eyes however, Jessica felt her heart beat increase.

The girl's eyes were a deep blue. Like the color of sapphires or cobalt.

Jessica knew then, she needed to keep this girl safe.

〰️

(Your Name) chuckled shyly at Jessica's teasing, playing with the silver charm on her silver necklace; shaped like a small crown. She smiled back then looked over to her best friend who was already staring at her. Before she sat down, she greeted Paul with a kiss on his temple. The male smiled softly at her.

Once (Your Name) was seated and eating her breakfast, Jessica told her what she had just told Paul. The girl was confused as to why they were having a ceremony but she gave Jessica a nod before she resumed eating. Jessica poured a glass of water for (Your Name) and slid the glass to her. The (Hair Color) haired girl thanked her quietly.

Jessica did the same for Paul, “Thank you.” The boy whispered. Jessica replied, “If you want it, make me give it to you. Use the Voice.”

(Your Name) guessed that Jessica wanted Paul to use the voice to bring him the water.

“Mom, I just woke up.” Paul protested in a gruffy, morning voice.

Jessica just stared at her son making Paul roll his eyes as he reluctantly agreed to try. He turned his body in the chair to use the voice, “Give me the water.”

It came out more like a soft, raspy whisper than what it was intended to be.

(Your Name) let out a muffled giggle at Paul's weak attempt. “The glass can't hear you. Say it to your mother.” She whispered.

Paul gave the girl a look before looking back at his mother. Seconds felt like minutes. The atmosphere shifted to stillness as (Your Name) watched Paul and Jessica stare at each other intensely, waiting for Paul to use the Voice again.

Moments later, his lips moved.

“Give me the water.”

“Almost.”

“Almost?”

Paul's voice was back to its normal pitch.

“Bene Gesserit skills take years to learn, Paul.” Jessica told her son as he reached out and grabbed the glass.

(Your Name) nodded. Even though she wasn't being taught to use the Bene Gesserit, she understood its complexity and why it's important to master.

Jessica observed her son before speaking again. “You look tired. More dreams?”

(Your Name) raised an eyebrow in confusion. She looked at her friend with worry. ‘Has he been dreaming too?’ She thought to herself.

Paul shook his head muttering, “No.” Then he went back to eating.

“What about you, (Your Name)? Have you been dreaming?” Jessica asked.

The girl looked down before muttering, “No.”

〰️

After breakfast, the two childhood best friends decided to spend some time studying before they had to head to the ceremony.

The recorded voice from the video played as Paul had a book in his hands about the Fremen, reading it as his back leaned against (Your Name)’s torso. The girl was in a kneeling position, her arms were wrapped around his neck, forearms resting on top of his shoulders. Her head was on top of Paul's, silently reading along with him, occasionally nuzzling her nose into the boy's curly hair. She was only half paying attention, focused on looking at the book, listening to the recording and trying to be as close to Paul as possible.

(Your Name)’s attention was diverted when she heard that name. Haris Aldaw’. She moved her head off of Paul’s. She has heard that name before. From where, she wasn't too sure.

Paul turned his head to look at the (Hair Color) haired girl, his hazel green eyes showing worry. “(Your Name), are you okay?”

The (Hair Color) haired girl blinked before nodding. “Yeah. I'm alright. Don't worry.” She replied to the boy.

Paul let one of his hands go from holding the book, grabbing one of (Your Name)’s hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. (Your Name) welcomed the comforting pressure and did it back to him. But to her surprise, Paul pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

The (Hair Color) haired girl felt a blush blossom onto her cheeks at the gesture. Now flustered, she looked away shyly.

Paul let her hand go and smirked to himself before he continued reading.

‘I wonder if it's as blue as my eyes.’ (Your Name) thought to herself, her focus back on the book and the recording.

(Your Name) bit her bottom lip. ‘My dream last night was about gliding… and falling.’ She thought to herself again.

〰️

(Your Name) and Paul were now standing outside, dressed nicely for the ceremony, both dressed similarly; since (Your Name) prefers men’s clothes for mobility. There were rare occasions where she dressed like Lady Jessica but only for very special occasions. The two of them stood close to each other as they waited.

The (Hair Color) haired girl turned her head to look at the bearded man in the center. Duke Leto Atreides. The man she saw as her father for many years now. She remembered when she first came to Caladan, he was confused as to how she got here and where she came from. Jessica had explained the situation and the Duke didn't want to believe the tale but when he saw how adamant she was, he believed her.

He took her in and cared for her like she was one of his own kids, raising her alongside Paul. Teaching her many things like reading and writing, alongside Lady Jessica. She couldn't be more graceful to the two for taking her in.

The Duke turned his head and saw the (Hair Color) haired girl looking at him. He gave the girl a subtle nod to her; a gesture she returned to him, a gentle smile on her face.

“Smile Gurney.” The Duke said, looking forward at the approaching visitors, his tone calm but with a touch of joking as he spoke to his trusted member.

“I am smiling.” Gurney replied monotonously, a blank expression on his always serious looking face.

(Your Name) bit her bottom lip to suppress a snicker from escaping her lips. Paul looked at her in mild amusement.

The Duke shook his head at Gurney’s deadpan response, “How much will it cost them traveling all this way for this formality?”

“Three Guild navigators and a total of 1,460,062 Solaris for this round trip.” Another trusted advisor answered beside the Duke. The Duke turned his attention back to the new visitors.

“Atreides! Atreides! Atreides!” The soldiers that stood everywhere, representing House Atreides, started chanting as the Duke made his way down the stairs to sign the paper.

Before he does, the Duke looks back at his son and (Your Name), seeing them both giving him a subtle nod in agreement, silently approving him. They watched him sign the paper using his signet ring.

As he did, (Your Name) felt a feeling in her stomach that she couldn't quite place. Like a feeling of unease. She wasn't sure why she felt it just now. ‘Probably from all the people staring at us.’ She thought to herself.

“So it is done?” Leto asked the Herald.

“It's done.” The Herald responded, face blank, not showing any emotion.

Once the deal was finalized, (Your Name) scooted closer to Paul, pressing her right arm against his left one. The curly haired boy looked at the girl. He gave her a gentle smile which she returned in kind.

She always liked Paul's smile. Paul thought the same thing about her.

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@skeletonixsstuff

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theladyofdeath · 5 years ago

Text

Rags & Riches {13}

Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU. Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313 All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.

Warning: Mature content strung throughout.

A/N: .....Imma just leave this one here.

Leave a comment to be tagged & tell me what you think! :)

Nearly a week had passed before Azriel and Elain found an apartment that they could afford. It was above a candy shop just off of main street. There was not a lot to it. A kitchen, a washroom, and a sitting room big enough for a bed and a few other pieces of furniture, a small fireplace. The entire thing was nearly half the size of Elain’s rooms at the manor.

Elain did not mind the size. It simply meant that she and Azriel stayed close at all times.

Azriel was nervous, though. She could tell.

It had been an eventful two days. They found out the morning after their arrival that everyone knew about the fire that had taken Azriel’s childhood home.

There were no survivors.

He mourned his mother and thanked the Mother for taking his father.

Other than that and taking the time to sleep, they spent their hours looking for an apartment and Azriel a job. Although they now had a home, there was still no sign of a job for him.

“I’ll find a job soon,” Azriel said, quietly from the corner. “I promise.”

Elain smiled from where she stood in the sitting room. “There is no rush. I have my jewels. It will last us some time.”

“That’s not….” Azriel’s words dropped off. “I know, I just….”

Elain’s smile softened. “We will be okay, Az. I know it.”

Azriel nodded, still unsure, but he attempted a smile, nonetheless.

“Now, let us talk about more hopeful matters,” Elain beamed, twirling around the empty room. “I figure we will put our bed in the corner, there.” She gestured to the far wall.

“I believe that is a good place for it,” Azriel said, quietly.

“And here,” Elain said, where she was standing. “Could be our dresser. Perhaps a mirror.”

Azriel’s smile became more genuine. “I see. What else do you have in mind?”

“Some paintings, for the walls,” Elain suggested. “Perhaps Feyre would paint us something. She has always been a lovely painter.”

“I like paintings,” Azriel agreed.

Elain strolled to the other side of the room and ran her fingers along the wall before turning to Azriel. “Maybe here we could put a crib?”

Azriel huffed a laugh. “I hope by the time we have children, my love, I can afford us a home with a little more room.”

Elain nodded, then tilted her head. “And would that be happening in the next eight months or so?”

Azriel froze. “I...are you….Elain?”

Elain met him where he stood just within the threshold. “We are going to have a baby, Azriel.”

Azriel laughed, nearly gaping, as he pulled Elain toward him. He kissed her, wildly. “Truly? You’re certain? How long have you known?”

“Not long,” Elain said, taking his hands. “I have not had it confirmed by a doctor, but...I know my body. Sometimes a woman just knows.” She bit her lip. “You are happy, then?”

“Of course,” Azriel breathed, brushing back her hair from her face. “How could I not be?”

Elain was just about to say something more when someone knocked on their door.

Azriel opened it, his smile still wide, as the landlord stood on the other side of the threshold. “Everything alright?”

“Lovely,” Elain said.

“Good,” their landlord smiled. “Rent will be due the fifth of each month. Beginning next month.”

Azriel nodded his thanks.

“There is a group downstairs about to go see the officials,” the landlord began. “If you’d like to join them so you don’t have to make the trek alone. I know you’re new to the city.”

Azriel raised a brow. “The officials?”

“Collecting the men for Hybern,” the landlord said.

Azriel and Elain looked at one another. Azriel shrugged.

“We are not following, sir,” Elain began.

The landlord looked surprised. “It’s been all over the city this past week. The King of Hybern has declared war.”

~~~~~

Nesta sat on the front steps.

There was a book in her lap, but she could not open it. Anxiety was thrumming through her veins as she stared down the drive, waiting.

It had been hours.

She saw him leave through the library window just after breakfast. He walked away from the stables, down the path, toward town, and he did not look back.

Nesta had been sitting on the front steps ever since.

They had not talked much the past week, since they found out that there would be a war.

Since they spent the night in her bed, Nesta in his arms.

But she could not grow attached.

If she grew attached, then she would have to watch him leave. If she fell in love with him, and he died in battle, Nesta could not bear it.

It was late afternoon by the time she saw his broad shadow walking down the drive. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his trousers. He was watching the ground, watching his boots stomp through the dust and the dirt. She could not tell by his posture what he had gone through, but Nesta could not breath as she watched him approach.

Cassian did not notice her sitting on the steps until he nearly passed them, on his way to the stables. When he saw her, he stopped, and Nesta stood.

He gave her a smile, although it never met his eyes.

“You are leaving?” Nesta asked, brow raised, book clutched desperately in her hands.

“Yes,” Cassian said, voice low.

Nesta nodded, and cleared her throat. “When?”

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck. “Two days.”

Nesta looked away from him, quickly. “And Lord Rhysand?”

“The same,” he said, after a deep breath. “He’ll come by to tell Feyre soon.”

Nesta nodded, looking away from his gaze. “Very well.”

“Shall I put in my notice then?” he asked, quietly.

“I believe you just did,” Nesta answered. “I will unfortunately have to find a new stableboy, it seems.”

“I leave quite the legacy behind,” Cassian chuckled, although there was no humor in it. “It will be hard to replace me.”

Nesta said nothing. Instead, she turned on her heels and began walking inside of the house.

“Nesta,” he called after her.

She paused, refusing to turn to face him.

“Two days,” he whispered. “Two nights.”

“Is that meant to mean something to me?” she asked.

“Don’t do that,” Cassian said, words clipped. “Do not fucking act like you don’t care.”

“And what if I don’t?” she asked, voice hitched.

“You can say you don’t all you want, but we both know it’s a lie.”

Nesta stared at the doors of the manor.

Cassian shook his head. “I’ll be at your door at midnight. Leave it open for me.”

“Don’t bother,” Nesta said, chin raised high as she went inside, “the door will be locked.”

She closed the door behind her.

~~~~~

Rhysand showed up at the manor just after nightfall. Supper had long since passed, and Feyre was nearly fuming when she stormed into the library and saw him scanning the shelves.

“Alis said you were here,” Feyre said, in way of greeting.

Rhysand turned around, raising his brows, smiling fondly. “I expected more of a welcome, all things considering.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “I have been waiting for you all day, you said you would be here hours ago. What did the officials say?”

Rhysand’s smile faded, he ran a hand through his hair. “I leave in two days time. In the late morning.”

Feyre nodded, eyes meeting the floor. “Do you know for how long?”

Rhysand shook his head. “However long it lasts.”

“It could be years, then?” she asked.

“Feyre, darling, look at me.”

His boots were loud on the floorboards as he walked toward where she stood.

Feyre did not look up.

He stopped in front of her. “It could be months, Feyre, we do not know.”

Feyre said nothing.

There was nothing to say.

Rhysand cleared his throat. “I took so long to make it to you because I had to get some things in order.”

“Such as?” Feyre whispered, far away from the conversation.

“Look at me, Feyre,” he said, again.

She shook her head, but his fingers brushed beneath her chin, and he lifted up her face.

She met his eyes, her own wistful and blurred.

He kissed her forehead. “Marry me, Feyre.”

Feyre scoffed. “Marry you? Now?”

“Yes, before I go,” he said. He was not smiling, he was just watching her.

“You are serious,” she whispered.

“I do not want to leave without having married you,” he said, taking her face into his hands. “I do not want to part here without being your husband.”

Feyre shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Do not speak as if you will not be coming back.”

“Once we marry, you will be Lady of Velaris. I have no heirs,” Rhysand went on. “Everything that is mine, will be yours.”

“You will come back,” Feyre cried.

“In case I do not,” Rhysand said, slowly, “I want you to have all that is mine.”

“And when you do come back?” Feyre asked. “Because you will. Come back.”

Rhysand nodded, slowly. “Then we will have it together.”

Feyre closed her eyes, but Rhysand stepped away, leaving her cold.

When she opened her eyes, he was down on one knee, looking up at her.

“I was late because I had to get some things done,” he said. “Starting with this.”

He pulled a box out of his pocket, and opened it up.

A big diamond ring stared back at her, small emeralds and diamonds surrounded by a band of gold.

“It was my mother’s,” he explained. “I had to get it fixed up a bit.”

Feyre stared. It was stunning.

“Marry me, Feyre. Tomorrow. I know it is a lot to ask, and I know it is not what you imagined for your wedding day. But I cannot leave without-”

“Yes,” Feyre breathed, falling to her knees and meeting him there. “I will marry you, tomorrow, if you stop talking, and kiss me.”

Rhysand laughed, breathily, as he cradled the back of Feyre’s head, bringing her mouth to his.

He took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger.

“Tomorrow, you will be my wife,” he said, smiling fondly. “Lady of Velaris.”

“Lady of Velaris,” she repeated. “I certainly hope you have a loose definition of what a lady should be.”

Rhysand raised his brows. “Feyre, I met you at a gambling house while you were in men’s clothing. Obviously, my definition of what a lady should be is incredibly unconventional.”

Feyre’s head fell back as she laughed. “I suppose that is true.”

He watched her laugh with such adoration that Feyre felt the tips of her ears turn pink.

“Shall we go to bed?” he asked, voice low.

Feyre chuckled. “No, you will go to the inn to sleep. You mustn’t see the bride the day of the wedding. Besides, I have a ridiculous amount of planning to do.”

“But-”

“I love you,” she said, kissing him, once more, before rising to her feet. “Goodnight. I must get my beauty sleep.”

“Feyre-” he laughed, still on his knees.

“Goodnight, my love,” she crooned, smiling over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

“Shall I show myself out, then?” he called after her.

“You know where the door is!” Feyre replied, already halfway down the hall.

She had to find Alis.

There was a wedding to throw together.

Very, very quickly.

~~~~~

Azriel and Elain laid on a pile of blankets in the middle of their sitting room, a fire blazing in the fireplace.

They laid in silence, their bodies bare. Azriel’s fingers brushed along her abdomen.

“Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?” he asked, quietly.

Elain looked over to him, smiling. “I do not know. But, if it’s a boy, I like Adrian. If it’s a girl, I like Charlotte. Or Ada.”

“Ada,” Azriel repeated, fingers sprawling out against her stomach. “I like Ada.”

Elain’s smile faltered, and it no longer reached her eyes. “Do you think you will be back before it’s born?”

Azriel didn’t answer. He didn’t know. He was forced to see the officials today and was given the all-clear that he was healthy enough for battle. He would leave before the week was over. The good news was, however, that as a soldier, he would be getting paid.

He would have money to send home to Elain.

And to the baby.

“I do not know,” Azriel said, “but I do know that I will come home to you, Elain. And we will be married. And we will be a family. And we will be happy, yeah?”

Elain nodded. “Yeah.”

“Maybe you should stay with your sisters?” Azriel asked. “While I am gone.”

Elain shook her head. “No. While you are gone, I am going to make this house a home.”

“Surely you do not wish-”

“This is our home, Azriel,” she said, her palm against his cheek. “I will wait for you to return in our home. I do not wish to go back to the manor and live that life. This is the life I want. This is the life I choose. I choose you, and the baby, and our home, in this city.”

“I will write to you,” he promised, voice shaking. “Every chance I get.”

“I know,” Elain smiled, brown eyes shining. “I know.”

~~~~~

Nesta was out on her balcony when Cassian climbed up the side of the manor and pulled himself up onto the ledge.

Nesta wasn’t surprised.

She knew he was coming, had seen him approach the house from the stables.

He landed beside her and leaned against the edge, resting on his elbows. “I assumed your door would be locked.”

“You assumed correctly,” she replied.

Cassian chuckled, humorlessly. “We have two days, Nesta.”

Nesta shook her head. “Go to bed, Cassian. Leave me be.”

“Why?” he demanded.

Nesta said nothing.

“Tell me why, my Lady.” He spat her title as if it were a joke. “Give me a reason.”

Nesta remained silent as she stared out into the night, her breathing evened, as if his words, his presence, meant nothing.

“I am not leaving here until you give me a reason to,” he said. “The other night...something changed, yeah? I know it did. I was there, too, Nesta. You may think that I know nothing, but I know you. I understand you. I see you. And I know that you would rather push the world away and pretend it does not exist, pretend that you feel nothing, just to save yourself from feeling too much. But I am leaving in two days, Nesta, and I know that you love me. So just let yourself fucking feel for two fucking days, and after that, you may choose how you wish to go on. But, for two days, do not neglect me, do not push me away, because if I leave this place and go into battle, your face will be the last thing I see, so do not fucking rid me of that, do not fucking rid me of two days of peace, of happiness, with you, because you cannot bear to face how pissed off you are that I must leave.”

He was breathing heavily, his words rough.

Nesta turned to face him, slowly. “How dare you speak to me in such a way?” she spat. “How fucking dare you!”

She pushed her hands into his chest.

He hardly staggered back.

He did not react.

She pushed against his chest, again, and again, again.

“Fuck you!” she cried, eyes ablaze. “Fuck you, you useless stableboy! I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

Cassian let her push against him, his hands in his pockets. He watched her, watched the chaos become unleashed.

She reached back and slapped him across the face.

“Feeling better?” he asked, face turned to the side.

She slapped him, again, but this time Cassian caught her wrist, just after her hand left his cheek, his ear ringing, his skin stinging.

She shook her head, violently, as a sob racked her body.

Cassian pulled her into his chest, holding her lower back against him with one hand, the back of her head with the other.

“Fuck you,” she breathed, crying into his dusty tunic. Her fist pounded against his chest, but she put no strength into it, not anymore.

He held her tighter, until her fist stopped, until she looked up to him.

Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet, blotchy. Her hair had tumbled out of its clips, the shoulder of her nightgown halfway down her arm.

She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him, slowly, deeply.

His hands lifted her up by the ass and set her on the edge of the balcony. Nesta fiddled with his trousers until they were halfway down his thighs, then he was thrusting himself into her beneath the starlit sky.

She pressed her forehead against his, and he held onto her tightly. His breath smelled of that familiar whiskey and tobacco as he breathed against her skin, raggedly.

He was wild, and fearless.

Brave, as no one had ever talked to Nesta the way he did. But she liked his honesty, his passion. She liked that he could see into her soul as easily as he could saddle a horse.

She cried out his name as he fell into her, one last time. His head fell against her shoulder, his chest rising and falling in rapid motion.

With trembling fingers, Nesta grabbed his face, and forced him to meet her eyes.

“If you die in this war,” she whispered, “I’ll fucking kill you myself.”

Cassian’s eyes lit up, and he grinned. “Spoken like a true Lady.”

He kissed her, softly.

“And if I live?” he asked.

Nesta brushed his disheveled hair back, out of his face. “Then you better come back to me, stableboy.”

~~~~~

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @mariamuses @a-happybird @amusicalbookworm @manoncrochanblackbeak @alifletcher2012 @candid-confetti @fandoms-everywhere-united @mis-lil-red@littlehoneyybee @abillionlittlepieces @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @awesomelena555 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @tswaney17 @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @rhysandsrightknee @gendryaforthemasses @dayanna-hatter @thebluemartini @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @julemmaes @christiashadows @sleeping-and-books @itsme-malin @agnez312 @cat5313 @amren-courtofdreams @chemica @empress-ofbloodshed @islamonna @illyrianbeauty @sleeping-and-books @queenofxhearts @sleeping-and-books @aedionashryver-wolfofthenorth @queenofillea1 @mynewdreamwasyou @levivlio @hellolenas @burritowithfeels @that-other-pineapple @girl-who-reads-the-books @raghad-50725@musicmaam @rowaelinforeverworld @negativenesta @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit@sannelovesreading @nerdperson524 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @nerdperson524 @mariamuses @gorl-power @booklover242 @rowaelinforeverworld @regular-nessian-trash @izou1204 @aelin-rowan-whitehorn @opheliatheemerald @eversincebeirut @musicmaam @ladybookwrm

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #nessian #feysand #elriel #acofas #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #tacmc r&r

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demoiselledefortune · 5 years ago

Text

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng’s (Lack of) Brotherhood

In fanfiction, it is extremely frequent to see Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng refer to one another as “brother”, either in dialogue, or described as such through the narrative. This always struck me as hitting the wrong note, because in the actual narrative of Mo Dao Zu Shi there is not a single instance where the word “brother” is used to refer to one another, not even once.

Yet it is obvious why fanfics go there. It does fittingly describe the nature of their relationship. Wei Wuxian was brought back to Yunmeng by Jiang Fengmian to be raised by him in a way that looks much more like an adoption than anything. It is probable that the main reason that he didn’t formally adopt Wei Wuxian was because Yu Ziyuan would never have stood by it. Despite her opposition and her worry that Wei Wuxian might usurp Jiang Cheng’s place as heir to the sect, it is obvious that Wei Wuxian wasn’t treated as a servant (as the son of a servant) or as a simple disciple. He was part of the family unit in more ways than not, and they grew up close and their relationship displayed a kind of intimacy and rivalry that is typical of brotherhood.

For Jiang Yanli, it was an obvious fact that Wei Wuxian was her brother, and she claimed him as such, both in dialogue and in the narration from her point of view. Most notably and strikingly, during the Phoenix Mountain hunt. At the time, Jin Zixun was specifically emphasizing Wei Wuxian’s lower status as a servant:

No disciple had ever dared say such lofty words in front of so many people. A moment later, as Jin ZiXun finally regained his composure, he yelled, “Wei WuXian! You’re only the son of a servant—how dare you be so bold!!!”

(Departure, part 2)

And Jiang Yanli is rectifying this to prop up Wei Wuxian against potential insults:

Jiang YanLi added, “Besides, hunting is hunting, so why bring the matter of discipline to the table? A-Xian is a disciple of the YunmengJiang Sect. He grew up with my brother and I, and so he’s as close as a brother is to me. Calling him the ‘son of a servant’—I’m sorry, but I won’t accept this. And thus…”

(Departure, part 2)

“As close as a brother” which describes their relationship very fairly.

And she very soon emphasizes it even more:

Jiang YanLi’s voice was soft, “Madam, A-Xian is my younger brother. Him being humiliated by others, to me, isn’t just a small matter.”

(Departure, part 2)

Not just “like a brother” but straight out calling him her brother. This is the main time she does so in dialogue, and most publically; but the narration also gives us multiple times when she refers to Wei Wuxian as her brother, or to both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian as her brothers in an equal manner. The earliest in the timeline is even during the flashback when Wei Wuxian had just been brought back to Yunmeng as a child! So that early on, she was comfortable thinking of Wei Wuxian as her brother, period.

At last, one step at a time, she finally managed to carry her two brothers back to Lotus Pier. In a hushed voice, she woke up the doctor and asked him to bandage Wei WuXian’s and Jiang Cheng’s wounds.

(Departure, part 3)

And it’s also there during her death scene -- after Wei Wuxian had caused the death of her beloved husband.

But she couldn’t say anything that was the opposite either. And so, she didn’t know what else she could say to Wei WuXian, under such circumstances. It was just that she felt like she had to see this brother of hers once more.

(Nightfall, part 3)

Yet for all of that Jiang Yanli claims Wei Wuxian as her brother, Wei Wuxian never calls her his sister. Instead, he calls her Shijie -- Sect (Elder) Sister. It is likely that he feels it would be disrespectful and presumptuous for him to call her sister directly.

Given how easily Yanli uses the term “brother” to describe her relationship to Wei Wuxian, I feel that it is very meaningful that Jiang Cheng never does.

That’s why I don’t like when fanfics easily call them “brothers” -- it elides something about how the narrative presents their relationship. The lack of such “brotherly” terms in the text is a symptom of how ill-at-ease their relationship is. Not quite one thing, nor quite the other.

If not brother, then what?

The other easy way they could be described instead is their relationship of being fellow disciples of the same sect. It is indeed how their relationship is first introduced to us by the narrative:

“The YiLing Patriarch has died? Who could have killed him ?”

“Who other than his shidi, Jiang Cheng, putting an end to his own relative for the greater good. Jiang Cheng led the Four Clans of YunmengJiang, LanlingJin, GusuLan, and QingheNie to destroy his “den”—LuanZang Hill.”

(Prologue)

Shidi, Sect (Younger) Brother; much like Yanli is Shijie, Sect (Elder) Sister.

However, aside from this introduction, the narrative doesn’t describe them by using those terms. Jiang Cheng is never calling Wei Wuxian “Shixiong”, either.

There is one other instance where those terms are used to call them, though, and it’s in the mouth of Jin Guangyao during the dramatic climax at Guanyin Temple:

Jiang Cheng, “You’re the chief cultivator, after all. Fight me if you can—why the chit-chat?”

Jin GuangYao, “You’re still avoiding it? Nothing is over there except for your shixiong. Did you really come here chasing after A-Ling?”

[...]

Jin GuangYao, “Fine. Mr. Wei, you see? Your shidi didn’t come looking for you. He doesn’t even want to spare you a single glance.”

Wei WuXian smiled, “Now those are strange words. It’s not the first day Sect Leader Jiang treats me like this. Do I need you to keep on reminding me?”

Hearing this, Jiang Cheng’s lips twisted slightly. Veins popped from the back of the hand with which he held Zidian. Jin GuangYao turned to him again, sighing, “Sect Leader Jiang, look—it’s just so difficult being your shixiong, isn’t it?”

(Hatred, part 4)

[...]

Jin GuangYao wasn’t swayed, continuing with a smile, “… Back then, the LanlingJin Sect, the QingheNie Sect, and the GusuLan Sect had already finished fighting over the biggest share. The rest could only get some small shrimps. You, on the other hand, had just rebuilt Lotus Pier and behind you was the YiLing Patriarch, Wei WuXian, the danger of whom was immeasurable. Do you think the other sects would like to see a young sect leader who was so advantaged? Luckily, you didn’t seem to be on good terms with your shixiong, and since everyone thought there was an opportunity, of course they’d add fuels to your fire if they could. No matter what, to weaken the YunmengJiang Sect was to strengthen themselves. Sect Leader Jiang, if only your attitude towards your shixiong was just a bit better, showing everyone that your bond was too strong to be broken for them to have a chance, or if you exhibited just a bit more tolerance after what happened, things wouldn’t have become what they were. Oh, speaking of it, you were also a main force of the siege at Burial Mound…”

(Hatred, part 7)

In all those instances, it’s obvious Jin Guangyao is doing it to emotionally rile and wound Jiang Cheng by criticising his failures and poking at his vulnerabilities. Ultimately, destabilizing him emotionally helps him in the fight, and later on, avenging himself on Jiang Cheng’s insulting him by wounding him in return. Using those specific terms allows him to emphasize Jiang Cheng’s responsibility in the breakdown of his relationship with Wei Wuxian and framing it as a failure in duty.

There is also one instance where Wei Wuxian tries to call Jiang Cheng “Shidi”, and that’s the earliest in the timeline that we see of their relationship, during the childhood flashback:

That night, Jiang Cheng locked Wei WuXian outside his room, refusing to let him in.

Wei WuXian knocked on the door, “Shidi, Shidi, let me in. I want to sleep.”

Inside of the room, Jiang Cheng shouted with his back on the door, “Who’s your shidi?! Give me back Princess, give me back Jasmine, give me back Love!”

(Departure, part 3)

Thus resoundingly rejected, it is possible Wei Wuxian never tried again to call Jiang Cheng using that term; even though that whole scene did end up with a reconciliation.

Still, their relationship as fellow disciples of the same sect warrants a bit more exploration. Immediately, Jiang Fengmian brought back Wei Wuxian to be a disciple, and not only that, but to be an elder disciple of Jiang Cheng ; a Shixiong, not a Shidi. It’s unclear to me if this seniority is a matter of their relative age (Wei Wuxian being slightly older) or order of official acceptance in the sect (I’m not sure how it would work out since Jiang Cheng grew up in Yunmeng, obviously, but I don’t know enough to rule it out altogether either). Even more than that, he became the Da Shixiong, the head disciple of the sect. It gives one way for Wei Wuxian to outrank Jiang Cheng, even though otherwise as heir to the Sect, Jiang Cheng is obviously in the superior position. It is possible that though unable to more closely adopt Wei Wuxian into the family, Jiang Fengmian viewed it as a way to strengthen Wei Wuxian’s position as more than a mere servant.

Perhaps this element of hierarchical back and forth is why they don’t, in the end, really refer to one another by those terms.

Jin Guangyao wasn’t entirely wrong to criticise the frailty of their bonds as members of the same sect. From the start, there were a lot of tumultuous feelings and stimming resentment underneath their relationship. Jiang Cheng was immediately jealous and felt inferior to Wei Wuxian, in particular in regard to how much his own father cared for him. Yu Ziyuan obviously disapproved of Jiang Fengmian’s favorable treatment and encouraged that interpretation out of genuine worry for her son, therefore discouraging Jiang Cheng to become close to Wei Wuxian. Not insensitive to those feelings, Wei Wuxian always saw his welcome in the Jiang family as a benevolent favour creating a high obligation for him, to the point that it perhaps weighed on him. And Wei Wuxian always had a hard time realising the emotional value he has for other people, never realising how deeply Jiang Cheng had come to rely on him and his support.

They clearly both were under a lot of diverging pressures and fraught tensions with regard to their relationship in a way that perhaps never allowed them to properly relax into it. That it didn’t affect Jiang Yanli in quite the same way is probably a mixture of Jiang Yanli’s own brand of awesomeness and because her share of pressure was somewhat lower.

Yet despite their relationship being the fulcrum of this emotional tug-of-war by their parental figures, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian did grow genuinely close, and cared deeply for one another. It’s hard to think it could be described merely as a relationship between a sect leader and a subordinate, a young master and a servant.

Servant, as we’ve seen, is what people who want to insult Wei Wuxian try to use.

Watching Madam Yu’s reaction, Wang LingJiao was quite pleased, “Wei Ying, if I remember correctly, is a servant of the YunmengJiang Sect, isn’t he? At the moment, without the presence of Sect Leader Jiang, I’m sure that, Madam Yu, you know what’d be the best to do. Or else, if the YunmengJiang Sect insists on defending him, it’d really make people suspect… if certain rumors… are really true… Hee hee.”

(Poisons, part 2)

Here is a rare instance where Wei Wuxian is called a servant outright, framing an attempt to humiliate him and manipulating Yu Ziyuan in allowing Wen Chao’s revenge against Wei Wuxian.

The topic of a servant status is clearly brought up as a possible sensitive point for Wei Wuxian, yet most often discarded.

Jiang Cheng, “The one that MianMian gave you? I didn’t.”

Wei WuXian exclaimed his regret, “I’ll find her for another one later.”

Jiang Cheng frowned, “You’re at it again. You don’t really like her, do you? The girl does look fine, but it’s obvious that she doesn’t have much background. Maybe she isn’t even a disciple. She seems like the daughter of a servant.”

Wei WuXian, “What’s wrong with servants? I’m also the son of a servant, aren’t I?”

Jiang Cheng, “How can you compare to her? Whose servant is like you, having your master peel lotus seeds for you and boil you soup. I didn’t even get to have some!”

(Poisons, part 1)

Here by Jiang Cheng, but Wei Wuxian was bringing it up, perhaps, because he disliked Jiang Cheng’s easy brushing off of MianMian’s status.

Much, much later:

Wei WuXian grinned, “Don’t worry. It’ll definitely work. Speaking of it, SiZhui, you don’t like Young Master Qin all that much, do you?”

Lan SiZhui thought about it, “I do not know either.” He responded with honesty, “He never did anything truly evil, but perhaps I find it difficult to deal with people of such character. I do not particularly like the tone with which he mentioned the word ‘servant’…”

He paused at this point. Wei WuXian was oblivious to it, “Typical, typical. Most of the people in this world look down upon servants. Servants sometimes even look down upon themselves… Why are you two looking at me like that?”

Halfway through, he interrupted, not knowing whether to laugh or frown, “Stop—is there a misunderstanding here? How could I compare? Lotus Pier isn’t the usual household, after all. I’ve beaten Jiang Cheng up way more times than he’s ever beaten me!”

Lan WangJi didn’t say anything, but instead gave him a silent hug. Wei WuXian couldn’t help but smile. He hugged back, stroking Lan WangJi’s back a couple of times. Lan SiZhui coughed. Seeing how confident Wei WuXian looked, not at all sensitive to the word ‘servant’, he was finally at ease.

(Extra : Intrusion, part 2)

This time it is Wei Wuxian who is quick to disclaim that his status in the Jiang household was really that of a servant. However it could still be Wei Wuxian being willing to cling to past grudges or bad feelings, and to maintain a carefree and cheerful attitude out of nonchalant bravado as is his habit.

Overall, it’s pretty clear that Wei Wuxian isn’t really called a servant of the Jiangs, just that his status as a son of a servant is brought up by people trying to demean him.

Even Yu Ziyuan doesn’t actually call him that straightforwardly:

Madam Yu scolded, “Of course you’ll go! Or else would your sister go? Look at her, still happily peeling lotus seeds. A-Li, stop peeling them. Who are you peeling them for? You’re the mistress, not somebody’s servant!”

Hearing the word ‘servant’, Wei WuXian didn’t mind much. He had finished all of the lotus seeds in the dish all at once, chewing as the soft, refreshing sweetness filled his mouth. Jiang FengMian, on the other hand, raised his head slightly, “My lady .”

Madam Yu, “What, something I said? Servant? You don’t want to hear the word? Jiang FengMian, let me ask you—this time, do you intend to let him go?”

Jiang FengMian, “It’s up to himself. He can go if he wants to.”

Wei WuXian raised his hand, “I want to go.”

Madam Yu laughed harshly, “How wonderful. He can go if he wants to. If he doesn’t want to, it’s definitely possible for him to stay. Why is it that A-Cheng has to go no matter what? Raising someone else’s child with such passion, Sect Leader Jiang, you really are a very nice person!”

(Courage, part 1)

She’s always prompt to draw in the subtext that Wei Wuxian’s treatment is too favourable, that it is above the station he should have… but she doesn’t quite go as far as calling him a servant either.

When Yu Ziyuan brings it up, what she’s always driving with this is that Jiang Fengmian is treating Wei Wuxian too nicely in comparison to his own children (and the narrative never actually calls her wrong for that, instead emphasizing indeed Jiang Fengmian’s coldness and even indifference towards Jiang Cheng).

The founder of the YunmengJiang Sect, Jiang Chi, was born a rogue cultivator. The ways of the sect were honest and unrestrained. Madam Yu’s manners were the exact opposite. And, both Jiang Cheng’s looks and personality took after his mother. He hadn’t ever been to Jiang FengMian’s liking. Since birth, he taught him in many ways, yet he still couldn’t change, which was why Jiang FengMian had always seemed as though he didn’t favor him too much.

(Poisons, part 1)

Yu Ziyuan was also trying to stop Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng from growing too close:

Wei WuXian was the son of Wei ChangZe, a servant of the YunmengJiang Sect, and ZangSe SanRen , a rogue cultivator . Both Jiang FengMian and his wife, Yu ZiYuan, were quite familiar with Wei WuXian’s parents. Despite this, Jiang FengMian never reminisced about his old friend in front of Wei WuXian and, moreover, Yu ZiYuan never spoke properly to Wei WuXian at all. It was lucky for him if she didn’t give him a few whips and send him to kneel in the ancestral hall so that he’d keep his distance from Jiang Cheng. Other people told him most of the things he knew about his parents. He really didn’t know much more than what everyone else knew.

(Dew, part 2)

Generally speaking, Yu Ziyuan’s admonishment to Jiang Cheng reinforces the idea that in order to preserve his dignity as a future sect leader, he needs to be kept remote from those of lower status.

Jiang Cheng went to her side. Madam Yu squeezed his arm with her slender fingers, then slapped his shoulder loudly, scolding, “There’s isn’t any improvement in your cultivation at all. You’re seventeen already, yet you’re still like an ignorant child, fooling around with others all the time. Are you the same as others? Who knows which sewers other people will be splashing in, but you’re going to be the leader of the Jiang Sect!”

Jiang Cheng stumbled from the slap, head lowered, not daring to protest. Wei WuXian understood—it went without saying that she was scolding him again, whether obvious or not. On the side, one of his shidi secretly stuck out his tongue toward him. Wei WuXian raised a brow at the shidi. Madam Yu, “Wei Ying, what trouble are you stirring up this time?”

Wei WuXian stood forward, accustomed to it. Madam Yu scolded, “You’re like this again! If you yourself don’t seek progress, then don’t drag Jiang Cheng along to fool around with you. You’re going to be a bad influence to him.”

(Courage, part 1)

Internalizing that informs a lot of Jiang Cheng’s behaviour towards Wei Wuxian, from teenagers at least, as trying to keep him in check and chiding him for misbehaviour, and yet finding in this comradeship a salutary release from the pressure weighing on him. And Wei Wuxian has also internalized that by playing the role of the troublemaker, he can draw out the anger of Yu Ziyuan on him instead to protect him, secure in the knowledge of Jiang Fengmian’s indulgence. Caught between fraught family dynamics, they try their best to protect one another (and I should be remiss to not mention how much Jiang Yanli also does to protect and nurture them in a way their parents rather fail to). But those very behaviours they have to protect one another are also what end up making their relationship so fragile as adults, by leaving essential unsaid words between them.

There is another reason, perhaps, for why they avoided qualifying one another with “brother”, and that comes up to the rumours of Wei Wuxian being a bastard son of Jiang Fengmian.

Madam Yu, “Talk about what? Get back to where? I’ll be talking about it right here. I have nothing to be ashamed of, anyways! Jiang Cheng, come over here.”

Jiang Cheng was stuck between his father and his mother. After a moment of hesitation, he moved to his mother’s side. Holding his shoulders, Madam Yu pushed him forward for Jiang FengMian to see, “Sect Leader Jiang, it seems that some things I have to say. Look carefully—this, is your own son, the future head of Lotus Pier. Even if you frown upon him just because I was the one who bore him, his surname is still Jiang! … I don’t believe for one second that you haven’t heard of how the outside people gossips, that Sect Leader Jiang has still not moved on from a certain Sanren though so many years have passed, regarding the son of his old friend as a son of his own; they’re speculating if Wei Ying is your…”

Jiang FengMian shouted, “Yu ZiYuan!”

Madam Yu shouted as well, “Jiang FengMian! Do you think that anything will change just because you raised your voice?! Do you think that I don’t know you?!”

[...]

Wei WuXian, “Jiang Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng gave no answer. With a few steps, he had already turned the corner of the hallway. Wei WuXian could only roll out of bed and chase over, dragging with him his stiff, sore body, “Jiang Cheng! Jiang Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng walked forward without a care for anything else. Wei WuXian was so mad that he threw himself over and clenched his neck, “Answer me if you heard me! Are you looking for a fight?!”

Jiang Cheng spat, “Go back to your bed and lie down properly!”

Wei WuXian, “I can’t do that, we need to get things straight! You really mustn’t listen to those messed-up nonsense.”

Jiang Cheng spoke coldly, “What messed-up nonsense?”

Wei WuXian, “Those things dirty your mouth even if you just say them. Both of my parents are real people in this world. I don’t want others assigning me to other households!”

(Poisons, part 1)

There is nothing in the story to reinforce the idea that the gossip might be true, yet it is clearly hurtful and a genuine source for worry for everyone in the family, driving even the mild tempered Jiang Fengmian to snap, and for Wei Wuxian to angrily call out to Jiang Cheng to listen to him.

The worry of feeding into those rumours is a large part of what drives Yu Ziyuan to be so wary of Jiang Fengmian’s affectionate treatment of Wei Wuxian. It’s clearly an insult to the reputation of the Sect leader, and to his own legitimate family. And Wei Wuxian, as well, framed it as an insult to his own parents, whose waning memories he does cherish greatly. If they acknowledged one another as brothers, it may come too close to pretending like those rumours could be true, which none of them want to do.

In the end, there is one moment where they put to words what their relationship means to them, and that’s Wei Wuxian’s grand “Twin Pride of Yunmeng” declaration:

Jiang Cheng was silent, as though he had finally become calmer. Wei WuXian put his hand on his shoulder again, “In the future, you’ll be the sect leader, and I’ll be your subordinate, like your father and my father. So what if the GusuLan Sect has its Two Jades? The Yunmeng Jiang Sect will have its Two Prides! So, shut up. Who said that you don’t deserve to be the sect leader? Nobody can say this, even you can’t either. If you do you’re looking for a beating.”

(Poisons, part 1)

Wei Wuxian is the one who put it to words and it clearly meant a great deal to Jiang Cheng, to bring it back so many years later during the Guanyin Temple dramatic scene; so let’s unpack it.

Wei Wuxian draws onto the relationship between both their fathers, he emphasizes its hierarchical nature but without using a word as demeaning as servant. But he also compares them to the Two Jades of GusuLan, who are, indeed, a pair of brothers.

So I guess it does sneak in, subliminally.

There is one fanfiction in which I thought the use of “brother” was done perfectly, and that was @newamsterdame’s “many envies” (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773845/chapters/44538778). This is because this fic plays putting it to word as a climatic shift after 20,000 words of build up. It first introduces the idea early on, voicing that “Jiang Fengmian never called him a son, Jiang Cheng never called him a brother. But they were family.”, and plays with it until when finally Jiang Cheng acknowledges Wei Wuxian it’s a big cathartic payoff. (Overall this entire fic is a magistral, wonderfully satisfying exercise in set up and pay off).

But when stories don’t make that sort of work (without being A/U or, say, set in a long time post canon after unshown reconciliation), I feel like it really cheapens the tragedy of Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian’s relationship

In the end, they simply called one another by their names, without naming anything of what they meant to one another.

(All quotes from Exiled Rebel Scanlations, thanks to @mrmissmrsrandom for beta, and to the nonnies I initially conversed with when I first ranted about this topic)

#mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #mdzs #yunmeng shuangjie #twin prides of yunmeng #meta #long #mine

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seven-oomen · 4 years ago

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The way I tend to be | The DILF Club

Happy Holidays to everyone! Have some delicious smut or our favorite DILFS, there's even some plot in this! Hope you like it because I have a universe thought out for this and if it does well, I'll share more!

It wasn’t doing as well on Ao3 as I was hoping for and I’m curious to see if it’ll do better here. If you enjoy it, please reblog, like, and/or comment on it. This is also a test to see if people still reblog fanfiction from me and if Once Upon a Time would do well on Tumblr. Which is my longest and most elaborate fanfic to date.

Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski, Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Sheriff Stilinski, Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski Characters: Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski Additional Tags: Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Cabin Fic, trans chris argent, Bisexual Peter Hale, Alpha Peter Hale, Trans Male Character, Bisexual Sheriff Stilinski, Bisexual Chris Argent, Double Vaginal Penetration, Double Penetration, Breeding, Creampie, Unprotected Sex Series: Part 1 of The way I tend to be

Fate could be a very cruel mistress when she wanted to be. And often she came together with a little vicious thing called irony.

The last year had been crazy. He discovered werewolves, banshees, wendigos, and werecoyotes were real, and so was whatever Kira was supposed to be. Chris Argent, Allison’s father and Isaac’s foster father, turned out to be a hunter, and the little bane of his existence during his career as a deputy, a certain Peter Hale, turned out to be a werewolf. As was Peter’s nephew Derek and his niece Cora. He still couldn’t completely wrap his head around that one.

They’d fought together, protected the town together, and now protected their children together.

That didn’t always go well, of course. One of them was a hunter, the other a werewolf, and somehow he always found himself right in between the other two trying to break up their fights.

A lot, and a lot of therapy for all three of them, had fixed that for the most part.

Still, there were times when he really wished he could duct tape Peter to the ceiling, mostly because the man was still a delinquent with a golden tongue, but mostly just because he was annoying. At least the werewolf was now firmly on their side and had proven that by nearly dying for both the other adults and all of the kids on multiple occasions. He’d really turned a new leaf. Still annoying as fuck, don’t get him wrong. But at least not reprehensible.

It was Peter’s new loyalty and Chris’s new code that had led him to go along with them on this particular mission. A mission to find a lone werewolf kid causing trouble around Mount Shasta. Since it was only two hours from Beacon Hills, he’d agreed to go over with the other two.

Their cover?

They were the chaperons on a school field trip to go skiing on the mountain for a week. Which had been the luckiest of coincidences in the history of coincidences but he’d take it. And since Stiles, Mikey, Malia, Jackson, Isaac, and Allison were all going, well, the rest of that was history.

“Peter, I swear to god if I find your socks anywhere near my bed again I will throw you through this window myself!” Chris snapped, holding up a pair of light blue socks with pink flamingos on them.

Ah. So that’s where his socks had gone off too. He was wondering where’d he left them.

“Those aren’t mine!” Peter bit back, looking so insulted at the mere idea of having to wear said socks that he couldn’t help but be offended at his offense. “I would never wear those monstrosities!”

“Right, I just keep finding random people’s socks in my bed for the last three days…” Chris growled, “You expect me to believe that?”

He bit his lip, wondering if he should admit to being the culprit. Since he was the only other person who had a bed in this room he figured Chris would draw that conclusion as well. But apparently, the hunter really hadn’t considered it.

The werewolf cocked his head to the left and sneered. “I’m not the only one who has a bed here beside you.”

Those fierce blue eyes turned to him and he couldn’t help but smile awkwardly at the both of them. “Yeah, those are mine.”

Peter smirked triumphantly at Chris, his eyebrows raised in a clear; I told you so.

To his credit, Chris pursed his lips and wordlessly handed him the bunched up socks of the last few days. His silver-blue eyes lingering with something that wasn’t quite a glare, but the man wasn’t exactly happy with him either.

“Thank you.” He quickly put his runaway socks into his duffel bag and straightened out the covers on his bed to keep himself busy.

“You owe me an apology, Christopher…” Peter’s voice sang through the room and a glance found the hunter glaring back at the wolf.

“I’m sorry for blaming you immediately.” Chris sighed, straightening out his own bed before checking the equipment in his backpack.

“Thank you,” Peter turned back to him and stared at him rather expectantly. “Noah?”

He had to admit he felt a little bit guilty for what had happened. He sighed softly as he shoved his water bottle, his sleeping bag, and some provisions into his backpack, looking up at the wolf sheepishly. “I’m sorry Peter, I’ll uh-” His eyes flicked to an expectant looking Chris, “I’ll keep a better eye on my socks and speak up when you’re blamed again.”

The wolf smiled mischievously at his apology, his eyes flicking from Chris to himself for a brief moment. “Thank you, now we really need to talk about your fashion choices, because those socks-”

Chris’s laughter followed him out of the room as he grabbed his packed bag and his orange ski jacket and headed out the door.

The trek up the mountain was not an easy one and they only had until nightfall to explore the area. He pulled the black beanie further over his ears and his gloves on a little tighter and looked over his shoulder.

Chris walked ahead of him, his blue ski jacket standing out against the white snow, a red beanie pulled over his ears to keep him warm.

Peter brought up the rear, his red ski jacket and brown beanie complementing one another in a rather surprising way. But if anyone could pull it off, he supposed it was the wolf.

They pushed through the snow and the wind, hoisting backpacks up higher and threading on while trying to find one lonely werewolf kid who needed their help. The wind started picking up as the hours progressed and once the snow started coming down and whipped around them, he realized that they weren’t going to be able to get back any time soon.

With their sight blocked off by the sudden incoming storm and nowhere to huddle they had no other choice but to walk on. He could no longer see where he was walking, only saw the bright blue of Chris’s ski jacket in front of him and before he knew it, he was face down in the snow and heard someone yelling his name.

“Noah!”

Someone picked him up and he felt two gloved hands cup his face. It took him a moment to register that it was Peter who picked him up and was currently cradling his face. He wasn’t sure how the concerned look on Peter’s face made him feel.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but it was one he hadn’t been expecting. It was warm and tingly. Peter’s blue eyes made him think of the ocean and moonlit beaches with a soft breeze and the soft calls of whales in the background-

“Noah… Are you still on this planet?”

Peter’s words pulled him out of his thoughts. “What?”

The wolf frowned at him and gently patted him over his body to check him for injuries. He swatted at the wolf’s hands to put a stop to it and pursed his lips. “I’m fine, but we need to get out of the cold.”

Peter raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement, turning back to Chris who had come towards them. “We need to get out of this wind, find shelter!”

“I know!” Chris yelled back, trying to carry his voice over the roar of the wind. “I think I saw a cabin up ahead!”

Chris looped his arm over his left while Peter looped his through his right and together they started tracking up the slope. The silhouette of the cabin quickly came closer with every step and they quickly headed over. They had to let go of each other to walk up the porch and Chris tested the door. It was locked, of course.

“Shit.” Chris muttered, “Look around for a key, usually-”

He started looking under several pots next to the door and found a key under the second one. Though a loud bang told him that they would no longer need a key.

“Or we could kick in the door…” Chris sighed while Peter held the door open for them to let them in.

Chris went in first, drawing his gun from inside his jacket as he checked the cabin room for room. He followed after the hunter, trying to suppress his hands from shaking and his body from shivering as the cold started to set in around him. Some snow had gotten into his jacket when he’d face-planted into the ground and it was creating a wet spot on his clothes as his body heat caused it to melt. The water also cooled down his body, especially in these temperatures.

Peter brought up the rear once more, eyes glowing a bright red as he scanned their surroundings and scented the air. The wolf behind him relaxed after a few moments, closing the door behind him by propping a chair from the little kitchen under the handle so it stayed locked.

“Cabin’s empty.” Peter and Chris said in unison. They walked up to him, frowning as they noticed his shivering, though he was doing his best to suppress it. He felt Peter’s incredibly warm hand against his forehead and couldn’t help but lean into it. He wasn’t sure how hot Peter ran in general, but it was definitely a few degrees higher than Chris or himself. Right now, that was a very welcome feature of the werewolf.

“He’s colder than he should be,” Peter muttered, gently guiding him towards the large fireplace in the middle of the room. “Come on, let’s get you heated up.”

“Did his jacket rip?” Chris asked, looking around for paper, wood, and other items they could burn.

Peter patted him down, despite his best efforts to keep the wolf’s hands off him. Werewolf strength could be quite unfair and if he wasn’t so damn cold he would have complained about the little shit sitting him down and throwing his own red ski jacket over him.

“Doesn’t seem to be but the collar is all wet and against his skin, looks like snow got in.”

“Aren’t you gonna get cold?” He raised an eyebrow at the black sweater Peter was wearing but also pulled the jacket closer and breathed in the wolf’s scent.

“I run a hundred and two degrees on a normal day.” Peter smiled, his face illuminated by the first sparks of the fire that Chris got running. It gave him a warm… almost soft look.

“It’s a werewolf thing,” Chris added, “Their body heat is higher than ours, it protects them from hypothermia, aids in their immunity against disease as well. One of those unfair advantages.”

He chuckled in response, his shivering already dying down now that the heat from the fire picked up and he had an extra layer. “That so?”

Peter hummed in agreement. “As is our superior sense of fashion.”

“Even Derek?” He asked, earning a laugh from Chris.

Peter pursed his lips and squinted his eyes. “Derek’s the exception to that rule.”

A laugh escaped him as Peter sat down next to him, though the laugh died on his lips as he noticed the concerned look Peter was giving the fire. It sobered him up considerably, knowing what Peter had been through, how close he was now sitting to something that had hurt him so much.

“Are you okay?”

The softness of his voice must have drawn Chris’s attention as well as the hunter had turned to look at them, his brow furrowing as he watched Peter’s face carefully. “Peter?”

Chris sat down on his other side, keeping a close eye on Peter while pretending to stare at the fire. Still, he noticed how Chris’s hands twitched in his lap and his eyes kept flicking to the wolf.

For a moment it seemed like Peter was lost in thought, staring into the growing fire with widening eyes. He noticed the wolf’s breathing picking up and his shaking hands. He carefully reached out and laid his own hand on top of Peter’s, startling the other man.

“What?” Peter relaxed at his touch and leaned into him unconsciously. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. It’s just-”

His eyes flicked back to the fire.

He didn’t have to say it out loud.

“Yeah,” He pulled Peter’s jacket closer and pulled his legs up to minimize the loss of warmth. “We can turn it down if you need that.”

Chris frowned at those words, eyes flicking from him to Peter, before slowly nodding in agreement. “It wouldn’t be ideal, but if it’s hurting you-”

“No.” Peter quickly interrupted him. “No, I’m fine. And you both need the fire. I just- I might need a distraction.”

“Distraction?” Chris raised an eyebrow at the word, earning a smirk from Peter in the process.

“Yes, the dictionary defines it as a thing that prevents someone from concentrating on something else. Or do you need a clearer definition, Christopher?”

“You don’t have to be a dick about it, Peter…” Chris looked down at his hands and shrugged. “We all have our own demons we want to forget.”

Peter went a little quiet at that, staring down at his feet while he scooted closer to him. “You’re right, it’s just-” His eyes flicked back to the fire.

“I get it…” Chris’s smile was soft as the hunter reached behind him to lay a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

It was nice, to be wedged between the two younger men and feel their warmth seep through him. He let himself lean back against Chris’s arm and laid his head on Peter’s shoulder. It just felt like the right thing to do in that moment. “It’s okay.” He whispered.

Chris frowned as he noticed the color difference of his gray sweater and trailed a hand over it, stopping at the collar as he felt the dampness. His warm hand trailed down over his collarbone and down his chest until he hit a dry spot. “You’re half soaked, we need to get that sweater off you and get you in something dry.”

He looked down at his body and froze. He didn’t show his bare chest to anyone. Ever. Even while sharing a room with the other two, he’d always gone to the bathroom to change. There were certain things he didn’t want anyone else to know, his past being one of them.

If anyone understands, it would be these two.

A little voice in his head told him. Yeah, it was right and he knew that. But what if they’d look at him differently?

Chris handed him a dark green sweater from his bag, having dragged said bag over with his foot, and gently started lifting his shirt. The hunter stopped after an inch and raised an eyebrow.

He was asking for permission.

He slowly shook his head. “I’ll do it.” And gently peeled the half wet garment from him and over his head. Constantly aware of what his aging body looked like. At fifty-three his best days had passed. He wasn’t as muscled as Peter or as lean and strong as Chris. His chest had a softness to it from all the fast food he’d been eating and he was showing his age with little marks, freckles, and the scars from years of abuse. The most obvious one being the scar on his left shoulder.

He paused for a second, jumping a little when Chris’s hand hovered over the scar. Though the hunter pulled away quickly and looked like he might apologize. Though the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

“What happened?” It was Peter who broke the silence.

He wasn’t sure what he could say, felt tears prickling in his eyes and for a moment he heard his father’s booming vague voice ringing through his ears. “My father happened, he uhm, I didn’t let him hurt my mother,” He sighed, “and he pushed me through our coffee table.”

“Jesus…” Peter whispered, gently squeezing his right shoulder in comfort.

“I’m sorry…” Chris muttered, rubbing his own scarred hands in discomfort.

“We all have our own demons… Right?” He shrugged and put Chris’s green sweater on, quickly figuring out that the fit would work but was on the tight side as the edges of his sleeves stopped a little too high on the wrist. It was also a little on the short side at the middle.

He sighed. “At least it’s dry.”

Peter bit his lip and looked like he was having great difficulty with keeping his laughter contained. “It doesn’t look that bad…”

Chris wasn’t as kind and snorted before trying to cover it up with a cough.

He glared at the younger man but smiled after a minute or two. “Thank you, Chris.”

Chris let his eyes roam down and grinned. “You’re welcome.”

He laid his head back on Peter’s shoulder and pulled Chris closer for his warmth.

“So neither of you is going to distract me then?”

He didn’t know why he found that statement so funny but he couldn’t help but laugh at the annoyance in Peter’s voice. He felt Chris smile against his shoulder as the hunter laid his head down on it for a second.

“How do you propose we do that, Peter?” The hunter lifted his head and leaned in just a bit, just inches away from Peter’s face.

The wolf answered Chris with a smirk. Gently putting a finger under Chris’s chin to pull him closer. “I have an idea, it’ll also keep you both warm.”

“Will it now?” Chris’s smooth deep voice send a shiver down his spine and made his cock twitch. He swallowed rather heavily in response.

God, he wanted Chris to command him in that voice, to tell him to take off his clothes and put his ass up in the air and-

“I think someone likes the sound of that voice…” Peter purred into his ear, the wolf laid a finger under his chin and lifted his head to face Chris.

“Do it again.”

He stared into Chris’s silver-blue eyes, warmth traveling down his body and stirring in his loins as the hunter smiled deviously.

“Hmm, what do you think sheriff ?” Chris purred the last word, he couldn’t help the little sound of desperation that escaped him. A sound that he echoed as Peter leaned in and gently nipped at his ear.

“I think he hates it.” Peter grinned against his cheek and slowly started nipping his way down his jaw and to his neck. “I think he might want us to stop.”

The wolf paused and he growled in response, reaching behind him to cup the back of Peter’s head and pull him back down. “Don’t you dare, Peter.”

Peter laughed in response and gently pulled him into his lap before continuing his lovely assault on his neck. He moaned happily and wiggled a little to get more comfortable and rub his ass against the growing bulge beneath him. Peter’s laugh dissolved into a moan.

Chris smirked at them, slowly trailing his hands up Noah’s thighs though he stopped just short of his groin, a silent question in his eyes. He nodded enthusiastically, too occupied to answer due to Peter biting the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck without breaking it. “Fuck me…”

Peter paused in his marking efforts, growling into his ear as he forced him to focus on Chris by grabbing a hold of his jaw. He felt Peter’s nails gently scratching his skin. “Oh, I think Christopher might have a better idea.”

Chris’s hand traveled up and cupped his cock through his pants, gently rubbing and stimulating the hardening member. He in turn squirmed in Peter’s lap and felt the Alpha’s clothed cock press against the cleft of his ass.

“Does he now?” He moaned softly.

Chris scooted closer and placed a leg on each side of his lap, sharing a passionate kiss with Peter before he turned his focus back on Noah. Chris pulled him up a little by the collar of his borrowed sweater and for a moment he thought the younger man would kiss him as well. Chris leaned in but stopped just short and smiled. “I’m gonna ride you both at the same time.”

As hot as that sounded, his brain short-circuited for a moment. He paused and blinked, cocking his head to the left as he tried to figure out how exactly that was going to work. “How is that gonna fit, we don’t have lube.”

Chris chuckled in response and gently lifted Noah’s hands to cup his ass. “You’re just gonna have to get me wet enough.”

Wet enough? He was missing something here. Not that he was complaining, Chris’s ass was phenomenal.

Peter took pity on him. “I think he doesn’t know. Maybe you should show him.”

The absolutely feral grin Chris gave him made his breath stutter.

“Let’s have some fun then.”

He felt Peter smile against his neck, the Alpha going back to his assault to suck a few more hickeys into the sensitive skin. That was gonna be a bitch to hide from Stiles, Mikey, and Liam but considering that every touch sent electricity through his body, he wasn’t going to complain much.

Chris opened his own pants but didn’t slip them down. Instead, he zipped down Noah’s and continued his teasing touch.

A soft squeaky moan escaped him as Chris’s hand rubbed him through the fabric and slowly massaged him to a throbbing erection. Peter in the meantime had started rubbing himself against his ass while continuing his assault on his neck and even his shoulders. He was gonna be bruised and sore by tomorrow, that was for sure.

“He’s pretty when he’s marked up,” Chris commented as he slipped his hand inside Noah’s underwear and wrapped a hand around his hard cock. The other man stroked it slowly, keeping his touch light and gentle as he worked from the sensitive head to the base, and then slipped him out of his restraining clothes as he worked himself back up.

“Pretty down there too…” The hunter remarked, smiling as he studied Noah’s cock for a moment, fingers tracing over the thick veins down to his balls.

Peter let out a delighted moan behind him, one that he echoed as the wolf made him grind down on while Peter thrust up. It was a goddamn shame they didn’t have any lube because he really wanted that thick cock to wreck his ass right then and there. But Chris clearly had a different plan.

The hunter guided one of his left hand from its place on Chris’s ass up to his own mouth, offering him his own fingers with a firm. “Suck on them, get them wet.”

Processing that command took him a second but he caught on quickly and started sucking on his index and middle finger. Bobbing his head up and down and swirling his tongue around the digits until they were coated in his own saliva.

Chris gently pulled Noah’s fingers free after a few moments and guided his hand down Chris’s pants. His mouth opening in a little ‘O’ when his fingers didn’t brush over a hard cock but instead found soft curls and a wet cunt. Oh, that made a whole lot of sense. His cock twitched excitedly and he couldn’t help but grin and lick his lips as he slowly started rubbing the soft folds and sensitive clit. Using his wet fingers as lube to ease his way.

Chris’s breath hitched as he circled the sensitive little nub and applied varying amounts of pressure. He enthusiastically met him for a passionate kiss, causing Peter to groan, followed by a desperate moan once the wolf caught on what they were doing.

He heard a zipper behind him opening and felt the brush of Peter’s hand against his ass. Knowing Peter, he was practically drooling while jerking himself off as he watched them make out.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Peter whispered.

Chris grinned against his lips and leaned back, watching both of them with a hungry leer. The hunter leaned back and pulled away much to his dismay. His wet hand dropped to his side and he held it up to get a quick taste of Chris. He felt Peter practically vibrate behind him as he let out a hungry moan.

Chris came back quickly with one of the sleeping bags, zipped it open and laid it out on the floor before he took off his pants and commanded him in that silky voice, “Lay down on your back.”

The command made him shiver and he scrambled quickly to do the hunter’s bidding. Laying down on the sleeping bag. He was rewarded for his quick action by a gentle blow on his cock and the hunter’s questioning gaze.

“Please…” He begged softly, squirming at Chris’s burning look. God, he wanted Chris to ride em like he stole em and talk dirty to him until his toes curled and he came screaming their names. Judging by the hungry smile the hunter sent him in return, his fantasy might just be fulfilled tonight.

“Please what, sheriff ?” The hunter’s voice vibrated through him and he noticed Peter shuddering as well. The wolf’s breath ragged and his cock leaking precum.

“Oh for the love of God, Chris if you don’t start sucking me off-” He moaned as Chris licked a path from his balls to the tip of his cock before deep throating him in one smooth move, effectively cutting him off.

The hunter hollowed his cheeks and slowly worked his way up, making his toes curl as warmth exploded through him, and his heart hammered in his chest.

He felt Peter settle, one knee on each side of his head, and looked up to see the wolf was offering him his own hard member. He smirked and lapped at the leaking head, moaning at the slightly bitter but not unpleasant taste.

“Turn your ass around Chris I want to taste you,” Peter growled.

Chris demonstrated just how flexible he could be by putting a leg on either side of him and raising his hips in the air without hitting him in the process, his lips never leaving their attention to his cock.

Peter’s appreciative moan had him shivering in response. He continued his worship of the wolf’s member with short licks to the head and worked his way down to the heavy balls, taking each in his mouth and rolled it around on his tongue before working his way back up.

He heard Chris moan, long and filthy above him, and watched as Peter’s enthusiastic licking, sucking, and tongue fucking of Chris’s cunt was met with equal enthusiasm as Chris fucked the wolf’s face. He felt the hunter’s legs contract and shudder after a few minutes, gasps escaping Chris as he came hard on Peter’s tongue. He even felt some fluid hit him on the chin as the hunter squirted his juices over them, much to his surprise and Peter’s delight.

“I hoped you could still do that.” The Alpha growled, playfully biting Chris’s ass without breaking the skin and slapping his other cheek.

Chris pulled away from them and took a few strides and deep breaths to come down from his high. Then grinned and swayed his hips as he walked back to them and smoothly straddled him.

“Oh, I can do far more than that.” The hunter chuckled. “What do you say?”

He groaned softly and quickly nodded his consent. “Please…”

Peter growled in response, red eyes glowing as he walked around them to sink behind Chris. “Why don’t you ride us, sweetheart?”

Chris smirked in return. Gently grabbing a hold of his cock and guiding him into the hunter’s tight wet heat. He nearly came on the spot but managed to hold back just enough by focusing on a spot on the ceiling and letting out a slow breath to ground himself while Chris slowly got used to his length and girth. He wasn’t the biggest or thickest guy, and thankfully neither was Peter or this was never gonna fit, but neither of them were exactly small either and Chris would need to adjust to each of them.

After a moment or two, the hunter slowly raised himself and moved his hips in slow, long strokes until he slid in and out easily and Chris could pick up some pace. His toes started curling and the warmth in his belly started pooling slowly, gradually building with each thrust and stroke until Chris pulled up enough to keep only the tip of his cock in.

He hadn’t even noticed Peter coming closer until the wolf aligned the head of his cock against his own as he slowly pushed the first few inches into Chris’s cunt beside him.

“Fuck…” He moaned, eyes rolling back into his head as Chris slowly sank on both of their cocks. They rubbed together in the tight wet heat of Chris’s cunt and he could feel every pulse, throb, and twitch coming from the wolf’s cock.

Chris paused once he had them both down halfway, his chest heaving with every breath and a large grin on his face. The hunter leaned over him, sinking himself further on Noah’s cock but forcing Peter’s further out. Chris then grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head, checking over his shoulder to see if Peter was on board, who grinned in return.

The moment Chris started moving, riding him like a prized stallion, Peter pushed his hips up every time Chris pushed down. Rubbing both their cocks together, lubed by Chris’s juices as the entire lengths met and rolled together with each thrust.

A string of moans and desperate little sounds left his throat as he surrendered to the warmth and feelings of pleasure that surged through him with every move. He felt it intensifying with each stroke, each move. Amplified by the wet sounds of Chris’s cunt and his little moans of pleasure, Peter’s growls and harder thrusts and by the twitching and throbbing of the wolf’s cock besides his own.

He managed to hold out for several minutes before his toes curled, his body convulsed and heat exploded in his loins. His cock twitched and pulsed as he came hard and in long spurts, while Chris continued to ride him and Peter continued to thrust in beside his twitching cock.

It didn’t take long for the wolf to let out a long moan and join him. Their cocks twitching and throbbing together as they came deep inside Chris and filled him with their cum. He felt Peter slump forward, held up by Chris as the wolf shuddered his last wave of ecstasy.

Chris continued to ride them, though the movement of his hips was greatly reduced due to Peter’s weight on his back. Milking them for every last drop they had. Only when they were spent and Peter was practically napping from exhaustion did he let them slip from him.

The hunter gently maneuvered Peter from his back to lay him down on Noah’s right, furthest away from the fire and rummaged through his own backpack for wet wipes to clean them up.

“Now that was a distraction.” Noah grinned, pleased when Chris winked at him.

It took a minute for Peter to come back to them with a dopey grin. Watching with interest as Chris did his best to clean them and himself from all traces of their fucking. Pouting a little as the hunter pushed out as much of their cum as he could and wiped it away.

“That’s a damn shame…” Peter muttered. “We tried so hard to breed you.”

Chris merely chuckled. “Wasn’t gonna work anyway, I’ve been on testosterone for sixteen years and have an IUD. The odds of you knocking me up are astronomical.”

He couldn’t help but frown at Chris’s words, for tempting fate was never a particularly good idea. But on the other hand, the hunter did have a point on how unlikely it would be. They weren’t the youngest, Chris was on hormones, and if he also had an IUD. What on Earth were the odds then? They couldn’t be high to begin with, even if in the best circumstances.

So he scoffed and pulled his pants back up. Peter did the same and Chris located his and put them on as well. Another sleeping bag was pulled from somewhere. His jacket was put up near the fire, on the back of a chair to dry further. And Chris laid down next to them on the sleeping bag to hunker down for the next few hours until the storm died down.

At least they were warm, comfortable, and utterly sated for now.

He dozed off knowing that their dynamic had shifted. Yes, he still wanted to duct tape Peter to the ceiling. And Chris could still be a jerk when he wanted to be. But at the very least, this was the start to a very fun beneficial rump for all three of them. Whatever else fate wanted to throw at them, they could only wait and see.

So what do we think? Do we want more of this universe? Do we want more DILF smut? More Chris/Peter/Noah?

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#teen wolf fanfiction #chris argent #peter hale #noah stilinski #sheriff stilinski #chris/peter/noah #the DILF club #lemons #trans character #bisexual characters #fanfiction #creativity he wrote #ben writes fanfiction

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originalexcerpts · 4 years ago

Text

I made a short ACOTAR fanfiction of Rhys and Y/N. It takes place several centuries after Feyre dies in a war. You purchase her human home in a town near an ocean and find Rhys sitting on a bench overlooking the ocean from your backyard.

I couldn't sleep so here you go:

I slid the pale pink robe tighter across my chest as the wind rustled by. The night was colder than any I had experienced since moving here a few weeks ago.

I knew I would need a new coat for winter with how close to the ocean the property was.

It was almost a dream the day the house went on the market. I had been scouring local ads for months, just praying something would be available. My new writing job required plenty of time at home and in a city like Vickzens, it was difficult to find something that wasnt a 2-story walk up in the city center. I didnt need any distractions. Which is why the moment this place went on the market I called immediately.

It didnt take much convincing for the seller to turn over the keys. She said the place had been in her family for years, but no one lived there. It wasnt until her grandmother passed a three months ago that she was even allowed to list it. She said her family had some weird attachment to it, and that I was more than welcome to take it off her hands. It was only her and her children left anyways, and they had spent too much time in this city, at her grandmother's nursing home, to be good for their mental health.

I felt bad for her, and gave my condolences, but a part of me was really thankful to her as well.

I moved in a few days later, and barely cared to notice the chipped wood floors or broken chandelier in the main entryway. The walls were dusty, but still held a magnificent glow from the gold flecked paint. There were murals along the stairwell of stars and the moon. Little crevices threatened to peel away at the paint, where the stairs had expanded over the years. That only meant the wood was real.

Small drawings done in what I believe was crayon and pencils swirled throughout three of the bedrooms. Maybe there were children here once.

Each room had it's own fireplace, and each fireplace had it's own story to tell. From flames and glittering silvers that almost formed blades, to flowers and autumn leaves.

The kitchen exploded with gold in the sink, the cabinetry, and the thin lines throughout the marbled countertops. How was I able to afford this place?

You could barely see the aging of the bathroom tiles beneath what I believe were hand stitched rugs. The thread pulled in places, but shared images of sunset intertwined with nightfall.

An artist. The original owner, or those who followed, had to have been an artist.

I made my way through the cobblestone trail leading from the back door towards the cliff's edge. My hair whipped against my cheek, but the ocean's waves lulled me closer.

The garden behind me now must have once been amazing. Hedges, withered from the seasons, line the stone path way and lead out on both sides to stone statues and tall old trees. I remember gasping when I saw it for the first time in daylight. But then the fireflies and lanterns glowed that first night and I fell in love. I decided then and there that I would try to find any bit of green my thumb could offer. I wanted to remake it. I wanted to see it for what it originally was.

It's been a few weeks now, and it definitely has a long way to go, but I almost dont want to go back inside at the end of each day. Anytime I take a break from writing, i am right back in the garden plowing away the weeds and planting fresh life.

I close my eyes and listen for a moment as the wind rocks the sea and little insects hum. This is my life, now. I get to be free from the bustling outside world and forget the heartbreak that led me to running away in the first place.

When I opened my eyes the moon was half hidden behind the clouds. I turned to go back inside, but then I saw him. A dark shadow of a man resting against a stone bench less than twenty feet away.

I was supposed to be alone here. I owned the land for miles.

Fear raked through me as I debated confronting him. What if he was dangerous? Should I call the police? What would the police even do?

Just as I stepped back to hurry inside, he swiftly moved from bench. His frame faced me, but I couldnt make out any features other than his impressive height.

"Who-who are you?" My words were choked, and I wasnt sure he could even hear me.

He didnt say a word, but I saw his shoulders straighten.

Then he was moving forward. He was walking towards me in the most graceful and demanding way I had ever seen.

I wanted to run. I wanted to cry. But I couldnt. I just stayed completely still while trying to convince myself I wasnt insane and that this man wasnt a murderer.

"Hello, dear," he stopped just far enough in front of me to half-bow and take my hand. His lips brush my knuckles before he released it. "Why is it that you're here?"

Why am I here?? This is my house. Why is he here??

The words werent forming, but he nodded his head anyways.

"I use to know someone that lived here once. A long time ago." The clouds released the moonlight just enough for me to glimpse sadness in those deep violet eyes. "Forgive me for intruding. I was unaware that Janna relinquished the deed."

So, he knows the woman who sold me the house? I wonder what relation they had. She looks much older than him, from what I can tell. But it's almost hard to determine his age. Part of him screams ancient and deadly, but his features are so beautiful and delicate that he couldnt be more than mid-twenties.

"I'm flattered you think so." He chuckled and looked away. "I have known Janna all her life. This home belonged to a distant ancestor of hers. But was abandoned some time after her death." He walked towards the cliff. "War is a cruel cruel thing." His inflections were playful. Dangerous. But his words were heartbreaking.

I wanted to reach out to him. To touch him. Comfort him. But I couldnt move. My feet were almost glued to the spot.

"Why do you come back here if it reminds you of something sad," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

He turned back to me, and was now fully drench I'm the light of the moon. It seemed to almost glow from within him. His dark hair was riddled with loose curls, and his purple suit was nearly the shade of dusk.

"A dear family member's funeral brought me to town not too long ago, and I havent wanted to leave, since."

The wind picked up with his last word and my robe parted slightly. I watched his eyes trail below my chin and immediately wrapped myself up again. Pervert.

"There is blood across the base of your neck." It was almost a reply, but couldnt have been, because the word never left my lips.

Before I could lift a finger, he already had my chin in his hands and was wiping away the cut with a silk white cloth. How had he moved so quickly?

"You should be more careful, dear." With that, he slipped the cloth into a pocket and disappeared. There were specks of glittering dust and shadows where he once was.

Was it just a dream? Had he been an illusion?

Who was that man?

#acotar #fanfiction #fanfic #acotar fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #rhysand #rhys #y/n #rhys x y/n

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