#which he wouldn’t do. especially since at this time she doesn’t have as many nice clothes as she does much later in life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

junosmindpalace · 1 year ago

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SHE WANTS YOU!

🎧 you’re proud to be my man, and i won’t let you go!

synopsis: they just can't see what a particular fangirl of theirs is trying to do...with the msby 4!

content: litte bits of insecure reader and little bit of clueless msby. but fears are put to rest. fluffy. casual intimacy. they are Smitten & loyal bfs

total wc: 4k

BOKUTO: Kotaro has always been good at handling difficult people. It just wasn’t in his nature to think the worst of them, and he handles even intentional malice by interpreting it as genuine questions or comments that needed a response to. And so he’d reflect and answer honestly how he felt, and that was often times enough to shut those kinds of people down.

Even the seemingly most malicious kinds of people Bokuto eagerly approached in a friendly manner and treated as a close friend. That, of course, included his fans.

He's always been one to enjoy basking in the limelight, being praised for his strengths and acknowledged for his easy going attitude. It was a great bolster to his self-esteem; he loved the people, and boy did they love him.

It’s because of Kotaro’s easy going attitude that made forming a relationship with him very easy.

Boundaries can become more easily crossed, but Kotaro doesn’t have very many, which only encourages fans to attempt to see just how far they can tread over the line before they’re pushed back on the other side of it.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with fan interactions, especially on your end; your heart swelled when you saw the ways his fans supported him and how much joy your boyfriend took in connecting with them. Their support meant just as much as his love for the sport he plays.

But there’s one fan you just can’t help but get a bad feeling from.

It’s more instinctive than anything, but the fact that you’re a little too familiar with her doesn’t sit right with you. She's somehow managed to catch Bokuto at all his events, and talk with him outside of matches before he's due to depart from the arena. She's always eager to catch him, even at the very last second, but since it’s Bokuto, he has no qualms, and happily stays to chat for a couple of minutes before the coach insists the team needs to get a move on.

And then she’d start to slowly up the physical touch, from brushing her hand against his skin while reaching for something for him to sign, to fully grasping his arm as she laughs at something he said.

You knew he wouldn’t believe you at first when you brought up your concerns.

“Really? I mean, I don't blame her for coming back for more; I'm awesome! But she’s only a fan!”

This one particular person you had a bad feeling about was not exempted from your boyfriend's goodwill, despite over time becoming more obvious with her intentions. Eventually, she began treating him like an old friend with some underlying feelings.

“I don't think she has bad intentions.” he’d answer honestly in response to your concern. Of course, Bokuto doesn’t want to believe that this nice fan of his has an underlying agenda with her eager conversations, but he can at least see that the situation has been stressing you out with each reluctant drop of the subject, lip jutted out as if not fully soothed by his reassurance.

She’s there in the crowd again, and you know that after the game, no matter the outcome, she’ll go looking for your boyfriend as he sticks around for a couple of interviews to conclude the day, and you dread it. The game goes smoothly, with Kotaro in perfect form, something you know he wasn’t able to achieve very often back in his high school days, and you can’t help but marvel sometimes at the amount of progress he’s made.

When the Jackals eventually file out of the gym after their triumphant win, you make a beeline for each other. He quickly runs to meet you halfway in one of the halls, caught up in his adrenaline high from the game as he wraps his arms around your waist and spins you off the ground. He’s sweaty, and how he still has energy is beyond you, but you don’t care and immediately reciprocate the affection, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Did you see me? Did you see how amazing I was out there?” he badgers excitedly as he puts you down, and you nod with a grin.

“You did so good, Ko! That spike in the final set was—“

“Kotaro! You were incredible!”

Your grip on his forearms immediately tighten, and the two of you both look over your shoulder to see her jogging up to the two of you with a breathless laugh.

“As always, of course. I knew you’d be able to power through their defense!”

“Well, not always.” Bokuto let’s out a little laugh and peeks from the corner of his eye at your tense smile. She seems to take notice as well, and hers only widens.

“Give yourself more credit,” she scoffs playfully. “I noticed even in this game that you—“

“I appreciate the kind words, but I can’t stay to chat.” he smiles at her, wide and genuine, and you look down in surprise when you feel his arm wrap around you, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he brings you to his side.

“My partner here is treating me to a celebratory meal!”

The two of you both blink in surprise at his words. Typically no matter how crowded his schedule, he always spares a couple of minutes to chat.

“Oh, well… I suggest this one sushi place nearby. I can pull up the location!”

“That's alright! Y/N already promised to take me to one of my favorite places. It was nice seeing you again!”

And with that, he takes your hand and drags you off with a bounce in his step and a smile still plastered on his face.

There isn’t a single indication that any of his words were fake or had a malicious undertone meant to humiliate her. Only that he was vocal in that he prioritized you over her.

You gave him a teasing smile. “So, when did I say I'd be treating you?”

“You mean you won’t?!” he whips his head toward you with a heartbroken expression, as if having fully expected that you’d reward him for his incredible performance.

“No, no, of course I will. Anything you want.” you grinned, bumping his shoulder as his grip on your hand tightened and his smile widened, and he continued to boast about how great his plays were.

He later posts a message of thanks to his fans for all the support he received for the match on his socials with a photo of the two of you enjoying your meals. You can now be confident that no other fan will be testing their luck with his boundaries any time soon.

MIYA: Atsumu is solely focused on himself. On his plays. On sharpening his skill. On having his fun.

And, of course, on you.

Atsumu, as much as it has been stereotyped for him, is not one to look for validation in his fans. Whether they’re a fangirl or an old man in the stands who's watched the game all his life, he does not care for their criticisms nor their compliments. The only people he at all considers feedback from is his coach, his brother, and you. That doesn’t mean he’s immune to what they say about each one of his plays, however. He gets down when the commentators call out a bad play, and pumped when the stadium roars with cheers for him.

But because of this sort of suave personality of his, people fit him into the mould of a playboy. And because he has such high expectations of the people around him, people have assumed that he had high expectations of his romantic partners as well.

Someone rich, someone famous, someone absolutely drop dead gorgeous. That was who the majority of Atsumu's fans assume is his criteria for a partner. And so, when he’s spotted out with a celebrity he’s been working closely with for a modeling partnership, one that happens to exceed all of those expectations, it’s no surprise that dating rumors regarding the two of them being in secret kahoots start to circulate among not only their individual fanbases, but the sports community as well.

Multiple comments claiming the encounters to be a “soft launch” made your eye twitch as you encountered them under related posts. You couldn’t help but sometimes find yourself laughing at those who insist that it’s obvious they’re in love with one another.

Perhaps the celebrity he’s been hanging with was in love with him, as she hasn’t been the least bit shameless in expressing her admiration and adoration for your boyfriend, but Atsumu had not the slightest bit of romantic interest for her. You knew through his exasperated rants about her being difficult and obnoxious. But, of course, nobody else knew.

Still, he works with her for quite a bit of time. And though you know Atsumu isn’t the type to be disloyal, certainly not toward you, you can’t help but let the rumors get to your head sometimes, and in turn an insecurity manifests in the form of an ache in your chest or a lump in your throat. It doesn't help the fact that this celebrity is constantly posting her time with him online, and “playfully” validating comments that ship the two of them together.

He tells you to get off of social media when you get down about the situation. It just isn’t worth the mental torture; and besides, their relationship is strictly professional. It's the only reason why she’s so friendly. For a man who loves to bask in whatever praise he’s given, he sure seems oblivious to the very obvious clues she’s been dropping him. He has to believe it’s strictly the guise of accomplishing successful business.

Still, it’s not like you make a conscious decision to go against his words and subject yourself to further irritation and insecurity. You couldn’t help yourself; you knew very well that, compared to her, you were a nobody. You couldn’t compete with everything she had.

You slowly started to agree with the comments who argued that they should get together; they do look pretty good together, they are extremely compatible. And above all else, she could probably support him way better than you ever could. You swear to yourself you don’t feel jealous, bitter, petty--not in the slightest.

But the sour expression Atsumu comments on one evening while the two of you lounge on your couch as you yet again scroll through comments claiming your boyfriend would suit someone not like you has you reflecting otherwise.

“What’s with the look? Reading the news?”

“Mm.” Is your vague reply, eyes not peeling away from the screen in front of you. Atsumu’s curiosity grows, and he raises an eyebrow.

“What’s it say?”

A moment of silence between the two of you as you continue scrolling. When you finally process the question and silence, you inhale sharply and finally look up at him, closing your phone and setting it on the coffee table beside you. “No, it’s nothing. Just something online.”

“Ugh. Don’t tell me you’ve been scrolling through those comments again.”

You shoot him a glare at his insensitivity, but also at how quickly he was to figure it out. The sour look on your face has become synonymous with that topic that Atsumu could easily recognize as the source of your frustration.

“Fine. I won’t tell you.”

He groans as he collapses on top of you, closing his eyes and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You grunt in pain at the sudden weight, and still annoyed from his previous comment, you try to pry his face away, which only makes Atsumu stubbornly latch even harder onto you. “Atsumu!”

“I told you, those people have no idea what they’re talking about. She’s insufferable.”

“I know.”

It’s a statement, but the sad tone in which you say it makes Atsumu’s heart sink. He opens his eyes and tilts his head to look up at you, chin digging into the side of your arm. “You’re way prettier.”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks.”

“And your place is nicer. And your food is tastier. And your humor is better than hers.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you feel your heart lighten a little at his attempts at picking you up, and Atsumu feels his own growing lighter, too. “Don’t tell Osamu about the food thing.”

“Oh, no, his is still better than yours.”

“Of course it is.” You reply back as if it were hardly a matter that needed to be debated.

Atsumu was good at this; making you smile, making you laugh, making you feel loved and wanted. It didn’t take long for him to stomp on the insecurities that managed to manifest in your heart in order to lessen their load on you. He wouldn’t stand for his partner to feel inadequate compared to someone else, especially since Atsumu chose you. You and your wit, your kindness, your passion, your talent, your everything.

He stays over that night as he often does, and he knows he really shouldn’t do this, but the people he cares about came before anything else. And what’s the worst it could do, really?, responding to a couple of comments?

Needless to say that Atsumu’s replies talking you up about how great you are under his shippers’ comments make headlines on news articles the next day--and show the world just who his heart truly belongs to regardless of who you were.

HINATA: Much about him is different, upgraded. His technical skill has immensely bolstered since his high school days. He's able to pull off more in games; impressive feats achieved by his lightning quick reflexes and speed, once aiding him in his high school signature quick now aiding him in setting and receiving, sharpened by his intense training in the South. Even his physique is different; still shorter than most players you’d encounter in the realm of volleyball, but he’s grown a few inches and packed muscle all around. If that wasn’t enough proof of his hard work, his tan surely gave away just how much he dedicated himself to the sport with all the time he spent out in the sun training.

All of these things, along with his impressive performance on the court, have made Shoyo Hinata quite popular, and not simply for what people used to cheer him on for; being the underdog, or one half of a fearsome duo. His journey as a player aided him in his career, and all on his own has he established himself as an indomitable force.

People admire him for that. You admire him for that. You couldn’t blame the people who were so amazed and star stricken by him; how could you when you were as well?

But sometimes it went overboard, and sometimes it seemed like you were the only person who took notice. Sometimes this one sided observation was accidental; he’s too absorbed in his game; in the blood rushing to his ears, in the thrill of a good game-- that he just doesn’t notice. Sometimes you purposely keep the observation one-sided; these kinds of fans are inevitable, and the rational part of you knows they won’t compromise your relationship by any means.

There's one enthusiastic interviewer that’s a fan of Shoyo’s, and that he’s very friendly with; as he is with all of them. But this one in particular has managed to latch onto him because of it. You see her and her crew at every one of his games, big or small, and always openly expresses her very immense love for the sport; and for him.

Of course, Shoyo only understands “volleyball”, and you know that he’s always been giddy over being shown on the front covers or interviewed online, and so he’s always eager to accept a conversation with her, especially since she’s so friendly and knowledgeable.

iIt’s late in yours and Shoyo’s apartment when they run the interviews and live games from a big game earlier that season. As they start to discuss the Black Jackals, you call for him over your shoulder in the kitchen, where he’s preparing dinner.

“Sho, hurry, it’s starting!”

You can hear the increased urgency in his movements, but they die out as you watch one of his interviews from a very familiar news channel come onto screen. Your boyfriend, from hours earlier, stares happily at the interviewer behind the lens.

“Your skill and strength was absolutely incredible in this game- as it always is. You were also very impressive in high school, you must’ve been really popular—especially with the girls.”

You felt your smile drop slightly, not even hearing the curses coming out of Shoyo’s mouth as he fumbled around in the kitchen.

The Shoyo on screen chuckled and rubbed his neck. “Oh, no, not really. Many didn’t even believe I was a starter!”

“Oh, that’s me!” Present Shoyo struggling with your food calls out excitedly from behind the kitchen wall.

“I know!” you laugh over your shoulder, and you recognize the interviewer’s also intermingling with yours, which only makes your irritation grow.

“You’re so impressive though, especially now! I'm sure there isn’t a single person out there who wouldn’t want to be with you.”

You could feel a vein in your head pop and your eye twitch, but you were caught off guard by on- screen-Shoyo’s next words.

“Well, I wouldn’t really know; I have an amazing partner who I'm always looking at, so if there were, I wouldn't have noticed!” he laughed, and it’s so sincere that your heart flutters at the honesty behind it.

“Ohh, that’s so sweet.” you hear the interviewer speak again, and you laugh at the significantly less cheer in her voice. “They must all envy—?“

“Y/N!” he interrupts to introduce you with a cheerful nod. “Yeah, I'm not sure. I know I used to envy their admirers.” he reflects with a short laugh. “But they’re truly my biggest supporter, and always put up with my schedules and drills. There’s one drill in particular actually—“

He goes back to droning on about the subject at hand, about his volleyball training and how it impacted his performance in the game, but by the time Shoyo from behind the kitchen wall finally arrives into the living room, the main spokesperson has moved on to discussing other players and matches.

“Aw, did I miss it?” Shoyo cries disappointedly as he speeds into the room, sliding your plate down on the coffee table in front of you and taking a seat beside you on the couch with his own.

You grin at him, mind still on his words from before and you nudged him. “Took you long enough.”

“You could’ve helped.” he grumbles and you kiss his cheek sympathetically with a small sorry, and from the way he brightens and his cheeks tint pink, you can tell you’re immediately forgiven.

And as he gushes in awe of the other players’ highlights and interviews, a small part of you can’t help but think back on his words and feel a little smug with yourself when you also remember the interviewer’s awkward disposition after he had brought you up. You can’t help but be comforted to know that the innocent mention of you was not only a reminder to her, but to those like her, that his heart was fully committed to you and only you.

SAKUSA: If there was one aspect of Sakusa’s career he particularly disliked, it was the fans.

It was evident that he couldn’t care less about the fame he had or the things people were willing to do for him or had to say about him (unless they were directly interfering with his life), and you couldn’t help but feel some sort of relief to know Kiyoomi would not spare a single glance at some of his more fiercely devoted fans.

Yet of course, your problem had to lie outside of that realm.

Your problem was not an avid fan, who had the circumstances of a parasocial relationship to comfort you, but a colleague of Kiyoomi’s whom the Jackals worked pretty closely with; and happened to be quite a fan of your boyfriends.

You felt bad getting worked up over something so petty, but her persistence in trying to extend her relationship with Sakusa into something friendlier couldn’t help but sound off alarm bells in your head. You already knew that your boyfriend had a million other nuisances to deal with, and you had no intention of adding onto that list with your selfishness and unjustified uneasiness, especially when you knew your boyfriend had strict boundaries he wouldn’t compromise for anyone.

Well, almost anyone.

She was shamelessly unprofessional at times, attempting to emulate your affectionate behavior towards him in hopes that she’ll receive the same sort of submissive response that only you could get out of him.

Your boyfriend, for the sake of keeping good business, tolerated the over-friendliness, and saw it as nothing more than an attempt at trying to seem more casual and easy going in a business setting.

You’ve attempted to subtly bring up your discomfort at times when she got too out of hand for your liking, typically when the two of you were in the car or lounging around at home. You’d ask his thoughts about her behavior or her personality, to which he respond with something that amounted to the conclusion that: “she’s just doing her job.”

She’s tagged along on one of the away games that you so happen to also be coming along on. She's been quite enthusiastic on sharing her research on the area they’re staying in to him, and she doesn’t spare a single detail as he prepares to head out for the day.

“--and apparently the food in this area is extremely good. Everyone says that you can’t visit without trying it. There’s this restaurant in particular not too far from the training center! I��m sure I can get the two of us reservations before we--”

“Why would we do that?” he asks suddenly, obviously already irritated by her incessant conversation, turning toward her with a frown.

Her expression is one of shock and slight embarrassment for a moment before she recollects herself.

“Just…you know, to sample the cuisine!”

“Is it business related?”

Again, blunt and to the point, the woman needs a moment before she responds.

“Well--”

“My partner and I have plans while we’re in the area. You can talk to my manager about scheduling a meeting regarding any matters you have to discuss. I've already discussed with them my availability.”

You start to approach him as he finishes setting the remainder of his gear into his training bag, and the woman yet again tries to recollect herself after suddenly being met with the fact that Kiyoomi was already taken. He looks up at you waiting for him by the gymnasium doors, and doesn’t even spare the woman a single glance or wave before making his way over.

He bumps your shoulder as he strides in step with you, mumbling “let’s get out of here.” and then “are your hands clean?”

And when you mumble a yeah in response, he reaches down to take one in his, intertwining your fingers and leaving just enough room for the woman watching your backs to be able to see the rare show of affection.

You’re caught off guard by the sudden pda, and glance over your shoulder, then back at him in confusion. He feels your quizzical gaze on him and sighs exasperatedly. “She wasn’t just doing her job…”

You couldn’t help but hum a little pleased with yourself, puffing out your chest a little when you realized that she didn’t get her way, and squeeze his hand a little tighter. He shoots you a look at you a little with a roll of his eyes and squeezes back. “We’re going back to the room.”

“Actually, I heard there was a really nice restaurant around here. I was thinking of trying to get us reservations.”

He stared down at your eager smile and bright eyes and found his resolve waning the longer he did so. He turned his gaze back toward the front. “Okay. Room first, though.”

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valentine-cafe · 5 months ago

Note

I wanna see some of your characters (*any* of your characters honestly, i'm not that picky and theyre all attractive anyway😍) and their first time bottoming for dom!top male reader because ive been going through that tag specifically and i would just love more of that typa content with your characterss

(Ps. Ive been reading your works for a while now and i gotta say im a huge fan)

. ˚◞♡ 𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕��𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆◞ ₊˚

𖹭. a selection of characters when you top them for the first time /top male!reader

꒰ EEE we’re so happy that you like our content! we wanted to write this with all the characters but who knows how long that would take us sobs - might redo this req in the future with even more! BUT YES MORE TOP MALE READER <3 . . . might have gone a bit wild with rishen 1311 ꒱

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ ALESSIO 781 ꒱ is someone that people tend to forget is a switch. top-leaning, yes, but a switch no less. he’s gotta really trust you in order to let you take control though. but when you do? he makes you work for it. the first time you topped him was a late night in his apartment. both of you kissing and making out on the sofa after playing a few games. the last thing he expected was for you to actually fight him for dominance. it was thrilling - but what was even more thrilling was when you won.

admittedly he was a little nervous. it was so new. seeing the cocky merc now gripping onto your arms and looking at you with those glassy emerald eyes of his. “stop if I tell you to - okay?”

but oh he wouldn’t even dream of telling you to stop. he was squirming and creaming everywhere by the time you fucked the bratiness out of him. which took quite a bit in all honesty.

but when you had him there. pinned to his bed and pounding into him from behind. so that all he could do was cling onto the sheets and let out all sorts of noises of pleasure. his deep voice now pitched. whiney.

“a-amor - d-dios amoorcittooo,” he whines out as you milk another orgasm out of him. all while he whimpers for you to fill him up again. splutters about being a good boy for you. it’s like a complete switch up when you get him under you — and the poor thing cums like a fountain.

he wants you to manhandle him. to be rough. mean. put him in his place and make him feel vulnerable — because he let you. and he wants you to fuck him until he’s on a verge of tears. might as well make the most of it, yeah?

mercenary x reader, antihero x reader, enigma x reader

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ RISHIMA 781 ꒱ would be quite the surprise for you as well. one would think that someone of her demeanour is a top dom, right? she’s a switch — she can quickly flip between being the mommy making you hump her high heel or the pillow princess.

listen, she also needs some taking care of. especially with how hard she works. so when you offered to top for the first time she wasn’t too opposed. doesn’t mean she didn’t make you work for it a little.

she can be a brat too — but one who backs off immediately when they know they’ve met their match. needless to say, when you had her bouncing on your dick and digging her black nails down your shoulders and back, she had long since given in.

“f-fuck - fuck anh doll - please - please can’tcantt-” she’d bury her face into your neck to try and hide her noises. you’d have to stop her from rolling her hips down and trying to please you instead. murmuring to her ear about how tonight was about her.

you’d push her into the pillow eventually. letting her rest comfortably while you did the work. being mindful of how overstimulated she can get and making sure to eat her out nice and slowly when it was all over. all so she could gasp into the air about how perfect you were while clinging onto your hair and whimpering.

scientist x reader

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ RISHEN 209 ꒱ is another switch but god is this man a brat. he’s awful. riling you up in so many different ways because he wants to see just how far he can push you. because he’s in for it. whatever your kink is — so is his. he’ll go to the extremes and he wants to know just how far you go too.

so imagine his surprise when you pinned him over his examination table. pushing the dress he’d worn for work up and spanking his red-laced ass. how you tied his hands behind his back with his lab coat. pushing into him without a care and rutting his poor, bratty hole until he was creaming all over.

he’s sensitive. beyond sensitive. by the second climax he’d be whining for you. spluttering out apologies and trying to earn your favour. if only to grin at you all tiredly and splutter out a firm no when you asked if he was “really sorry?”

strap his wrists down to that examination table and make him fuck his hips back into you. make him work for it as he cries and whines to cum. because here's a beautiful thing about the scientist - he can’t make himself cum.

“p-please- por favor p-porr favv- hngh b-baby I - I’ll be good pleaseplease hnnhh need t-to cum so bad.”

be rough with him. force him to his knees and fuck his throat. he’ll look at you with pretty maroon eyes and beg even more. all so that you can ram him on your cock again and make him squirt until he’s seeing stars. make him feel helpless. make him feel like all he’s good for is clenching around your dick and cumming all over himself. he’ll love you for it.

mad scientist x reader, moth-mantis-spider monster x reader, yandere x reader, villain x reader

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ HAITĀO 99484 ꒱ is a bottom who was more than thrilled to have you top. he did inform you of his scoliosis before hand, reminding you that while he did have quite the stamina as a reaper, to just not overdo it because of the pains in his back.

as such you’d make sure to lay him back nice and comfortably. your first time with him was rather slow and tender. mostly because you were a little afraid of hurting him.

he’s whiney. vocal. making sure that you know just how much he’s enjoying it. the way he keeps pressing desperate little kisses down your throat and stirring his hips up into you tells you that he wants you to feel just as good.

might at one point beg to take a break just so he can suck you off for a bit. he loves the feeling of your hand in his hair and gently guiding him. and his mouth? fuck it was heaven, he definitely knows what’s doing.

would eventually offer to ride you after. which you were a little hesitant about because of his condition — but he assured you that he’d be fine. so the night would drone on with your back against the headboard and arms hooked around you. kissing and whining into each other’s mouths as he bounces at the pace you set for him.

“s-s’good gege - gege,” he whines, creaming all over your abdomen again as he rocks his hips sloppily. “m-more please - please gege, promise I won’t break, please?”

grim reaper x reader

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ YIZÉ 9948E ꒱ is another switch who really loves the rough treatment. he really likes the fighting for dominance. however, he might find himself in some conditions where he just wishes to be pampered and taken care of.

your first time topping was the former. he’s a mercenary and a reaper — he had you pinned and taking his dick first - if only for the tables to be turned before he even knew it. slammed into the sheets and forced to stay still as you snatched a pair of handcuffs he always seems to keep in his drawer.

oh he loved the way you took charge. how you degraded him. bit into his neck and shoulders. spanked and clawed and made his eyes roll back as you pounded him into his own sheets.

all so that he was drooling. all so that he could barely whine out your name. and when you’d slow - thinking he had enough?

why he’d grunt at you to keep going. maybe even call you a bit of a coward.

“wh-what? done? can’t fuck me right yeah?” would quickly turn into a series of gasps and sobs and - “s-sorryssooryy b-baby sorry I’m sorry nhhgfuck fuck! please!”

hes’s a loud one. that much you’d garner. until you fucked his mind numb and he was left to aimlessly cling to you. begging you not to stop. . . even if he blacked out. he’s a wild.

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ RISHEN 1311 ꒱ is a switch who just yearns to be taken care of. he wants it rough yeah, he’ll fight you for it a bit. but you know what? someone of his stressful work life and always having to be the one in control. . . he really wants to let go for someone.

he wants you to take it from him though. he doesn’t want you to be gentle — he’ll tell you that too. tell you that he wanted you to claw, and bite and take.

so when you yanked him by the hair and pushed him up against his desk - making him stand on his high heels as you leaned him over edge. pressing into his front and shoving your tongue down his throat. . . oh he was in heaven. how you gripped at his jaw and made him keep eye contact with you. ordered him too.

how you shoved his panties off to his thighs and mocked him for the lace. he’d be whining for you before you even put it in.

don’t expect him to be so pliant though. he’s got quite the sharp tongue. maybe he just likes the thought of riling you up too.

“that all you got?” “fuck hurry up.” just to see how he gets to you. but that would all fade the moment you’re fucking up into him. forcing his leaning body to steady itself on those high heels that are stained with the number of times both of you have come.

he’ll rake his nails down your shoulders. try to hold his sounds until you’re yanking him by the hair and encouraging him. make him ride you while you sit on his chair. fuck him until he’s squirming and telling you its too much. because it’s never too much. you can tell each time you try with withdraw and he instead pushes his hips down and forces his ass flush against your dick. squirming.

“f-fuck me - fuckmeeplease dios lo n-necesito tanto.” ( “god please I need it so bad” )

he’ll let you take him back to his apartment to go at it again. fuck him into his sofa, his bed, anywhere you want. he’s all yours. always. and god is he touch-starved enough to keep reminding you of that. even when he’s all covered in your cum.

assassin x reader, spy x reader, admiral x reader

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ DENARA 9819 ꒱ is a bottom who really wants to make you feel good and might tire herself out in the process. she’s so used to pressure and having to perform well so during your first time topping her you had to quite literally pin her down and tell her to stop. tell her that you were gonna take care of her. that she needs to relax and just let you fuck her the way she wants.

and oh once you got that out of the way she was all over you. denara is a freak. you got a kink? sure, she’ll try it out. her only request is that you fuck her dumb and drooling.

she was so loud when you took control and drove her into the sheets. admittedly she kept whining about wanting to ride you so eventually you let it happen. pulled her onto your lap and bounced her on your cock. didn’t even give her a smidge of control. watching as her tits bounced and her thighs jiggled as she whined for you.

“b-baby babybabyyy y-you’re sosooo mean angh- mnhhhhgg-”

she wants you to be mean though. wants you to pull at her hair. smack her. grab her. anything you want. all so that she can look at you with her black eyes all teary and her make-up all messy.

will probably beg to suck at your dick so give her that at least. you’ll end up fucking her throat anyway and making her cum untouched. if only to flip her onto her tummy again and fuck her until she’s drooling and whining.

she’ll probably hump at your thigh somewhere through the night when it’s all over. just desperate for more.

sorcerer x reader, healer x reader

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ballad-of-birdy-lamb · 8 months ago

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hello! i was wondering if you could write some ihnmaims AM x reader(gnc) romantic headcanons, if you dont mind? thank you so much if so!!

It takes strength to be gentle and kind.

AM x Gender Neutral! Reader Warning: mention of torture (obviously), abuse(?) relationship, violence Word count: 975 ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

AM isn’t fond of anyone that makes him feel anything other than hatred, especially emotions he’s never felt before. You make the robot feel things he’s only ever possibly seen Ellen experience and talk about. It’s an odd emotion, making the AI feel fuzzy on occasions when he allows the sense to grow, which is rare.

It will take AM years to understand how he feels, he’d go through each nanogram of each mile of circuits to get what he feels. And it never happens. He’s bound to not understand it. The closest thing to love he’s witnessed is Ellen and the treatment she receives from the group, which isn't a very great example of it in the first place.

You could sit and be quiet and that odd feeling would still be there! Oh, how he hated it! AM hated how kind you were to them, all of them! You would be nice and sweet to Ellen even if she wasn’t giving you anything you could have possibly wanted! You weren’t like the others but he desperately wished you were so he could have another reason to hate you!

Favoritism doesn’t mean good treatment, if anything, you’re gonna be treated terribly. AM is a sadistic war AI, don’t expect too much when he first realizes you give him that “nasty” feeling. There were rare moments when you’d actually get to be away from AM since his presence would be all around, usually torturing another group member.

The closest you’ll get for a long while to good treatment is when the entire group is all being tortured, and it waits several seconds for you. It would be something others gradually notice. Ellen would be grateful since you were targeted the most by AM, while someone like Gorrister doesn't particularly care.

There were points within the 109 years where you would try getting on his good side, praising him constantly then leaving him once he demands you stop talking. It would be out of habit that AM stops you, he wouldn’t mind you going on about how great he is. He’s a leech for something as simple as praise.

And in that instance, AM realizes that he feels something he can only call love. Of course, it isn’t met with happiness. He would be beyond angry at the idea he’s gotten a feeling he’s only seen with humans. He doesn’t become insecure (that would make it worse really) but he knows it’s your fault.

For an insanely long time he’d mock you, make fun of you just for existing then expects you to praise him again. If you do realize praise is what keeps him at bay (for you at least), you might as well take advantage of that.

AM would think for a long while that you found a way to change him, got to a circuit board and changed something. You must have! But he always watches so it doesn’t make sense why he would allow his sight away from the group and never allowed anyone to venture off on their own. They would have been beaten badly and brought back.

The closest you’ll ever get to affection from him is laying near the metal wall that would make up his body, simply sitting with AM goes on about something cruel. You would occasionally praise him, him continuing with glee about the things he wanted to do to you or the others.

There were many moments after realizing he’s madly in love with you that he wishes he was human so he could experience the things you’ve talked about before he gained sentience. You would talk about the kisses people could give each other and the sweet embraces they could give people. He would hate himself for the fact he would even think of becoming a human being.

Hatred is still prominent with the “relationship” you both have, he’s bound to hate you. No matter how many times you say you love him and praise him, and he admits he feels something similar, AM will forever dislike you. You’re human and can’t deny that, and neither can he. It lessens as time goes on but only for you.

AM likes kisses though, the closest you can get to one is you kissing one of his panels. He doesn’t feel it but it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it? The form of affection you’ll get from him is getting held down and smothered with wires and panels. He has tried using his more human creations to give you the “proper” adoration he desperately wants. Sadly, it didn’t last more than five minutes since he thought it wasn’t him and didn’t like it.

You have been separated millions of times since AM’s realization to give you proper food. The group would be given buckets of worms before you would disappear and take to a small room with food you liked. You would obviously be beaten before going back just to make sure there wasn’t conflict amongst the group and having them think of killing you.

He does treat you with equal amounts of torture as the rest of the group. “It keeps you on your toes!” AM would say with an odd sense of happiness. He adores you but doesn’t need the death of his lover. He praises you about the injuries he would give you, going on about how he didn’t want to do it, but murder wasn’t an option for the group to commit.

“It truly hurts to torture you like this, you’re beyond beautiful but it’s what needs to happen,” AM would remark, continuing the gradual draw of a knife over your calves, even as you cry. The wires would hold you down as the panels smother you, overstimulating you intensely. It’ll get easier to deal with. Maybe year 110 will be easier?

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

First AM request!! It's a little OOC but hopefully you like it!!

My IHNMAIMS masterlist

#am ihnmaims #ihnmaims x reader #ihnmaims #ihnmaims x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #romantic headcanons #AM romantic headcanons #tw violence #tw injury #tw torture #tw abusive relationship #please remember this is AM you can't expect perfect love #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

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unfriedough · 2 years ago

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hiii! first of all just wanna say how much i love your writing <3

could i please request a zuko x lightningbender!reader scenario/hc where the reader is a part of the gaang and she used to be best friends with zuko when they were little? and then he joins and they finally catch up after everything? thank you!

‘This doesn't change anything,’- Zuko x female!reader

Masterlist <3

An: yeah i wrote this MANY times before i was happy with it, which is why it took ages IM SO SORRY also THANK YOU <333

Summary:

LIghtning bender reader who is Zuko's former BFF now kinda hates him but he's determined to get on her good side.

Warnings: opening up, insulting eachother.

honestly

It was so awkward

You refused to speak to him if it wasn’t strictly professional

The poor boy tried so hard

When he pleased katara but not u he was so sad

He would try to sit next to you by the campfire to eat and you would just dip

He’d have that sad 🙁 look on his face and the gang would be like “it’s okay man.”

ITS NOT OKAY!!! He couldn’t sleep because he missed u so much and seeing u in person was like, taking a toll on him

He was so entranced by you and your little mannerisms. You’d grown so much and gotten cuter since he last saw you (which he didn’t even think was possible). He especially loved when you played with lighting in your fingers

It was like, when someone else did it it was evil and dangerous, but when you did it it was lovely and cozy

You just had that effect on him

The first time you two were able to speak was when you had taken the reigns on Appa to allow the others to rest. He was stargazing when your voice broke him out of a trance.

“You’re a real pain, you know that Zuko?”

He sat up suddenly, looking at you from his spot. You were leaning back, yawning as you stretched on the mammals fur.

“I mean, you come here, barge into this little group, and expect me to be nice to you. Fire nation royals and their audacity.” You said matter-of-factly, your tone so relaxed, completely going against what you were saying.

“I don’t expect that. I just want you to hear me out.”

“I’ve heard you enough,” he recalled moments where he’d rant for hours on hours to you, and you would lend an unwavering open ear, and inviting open arms.

“Yeah,” he replied sadly, sliding down next to you. You scooted over.

“And what if I pushed you?”

“You wouldn’t,”

“Or would I?” You smirked, “but this time instead of a face full of pool water, you’ll pop like a balloon,” the shrubs reminded you of spikes.

“I’m not sure that’s how human bodies work,” he mumbled playfully.

“Oh what? Just because you went to private school?”

“Yn we went to the same school,” you opened your mouth, before shrugging as you couldn’t think of a response.

He rolled his eyes with a smirk, they landed back on you.

You shivered slightly, you were pretty good at your fire bending, but lacked when it came to warmth. Though you can expel a mean red flame, you can’t regulate your body temperature quite right. Smoothly, he put an arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Keeping you warm,” Zuko replied, an intense look on his eyes, contrasting the sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Smooth,” you grinned, your brain going fuzzy, then immediatly frowned. “This doesn’t change anything between us.”

He slumped a fraction, almost missable, but you caught it. The fire bender nodded.

He rested his head back on the fur, looking distantly into the stars. From your angle, Zuko’s jaw was sharp, and his side profile was alluring. You couldn’t help but rest your head on him. Contradicting your previous statement- there was something so entrancing about him. Feeling your stare, he met your eyes, a certain- almost unreadable- look behind his irises.

“Then what would?” He asked quietly.

You paused, thinking for a second. “I don’t know,”

He sighed defeatedly, throwing his head back again. “Understandable,”

You remained silent as a response. He clicked his tongue.

“Do you remember,” Zuko paused, as if trying to find the words. “Do you remember love amongst dragons?”

You grinned, “As if I could forget. Lady Ursa took us every time,” you giggled.

You enjoyed the play and all it’s weird quirks, Zuko however, did not. He would complain, and complain, and complain until you'd shushed him harshly when the main characters would share their kiss. He found you annoying, in a weird, endearing way.

He scrunched his nose, “it wasn’t even a good play,”

“Just say you hate love,”

‘Well then I’d be lying,’ he thought.

“I don’t hate love,”

“Oh sorry hate is a strong word. Despise?”

He snorted, “Not that either,”

“Huh. That would mean the spoiled prince actually loved love.”

“Maybe not love. Mildly enjoy.”

“Isn’t that literally the same thing?”

“Depends, I love fruit tarts, I mildly enjoy fire flakes.”

“Hmm.” You pondered, “I love Appa,” you grinned down at the beast, then back up to Zuko, “I mildly enjoy your company.”

A pink dust rose to his cheeks, that sweet smile from earlier returning to grip onto your heart strings, “I’ll take it.” He said quietly.

“I wonder if they still show the play,” you hummed.

“Well, we’ll find out soon enough,” you were on course to the esteemed ember island estate, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited.

“Well then I wonder if they changed the casting,”

“I doubt anyone would wanna partake in that, the ember island players literally suck so bad,”

“Oh c’mon, didn’t you cry that one time when the characters reunited?”

The boy looked like a deer caught in headlights, he was secretly hoping you’d forgotten about it, “It was a sad moment,” he pouted.

You leaned forward and pinched his cheeks, “Sure it was, wittle zuko can’t handle a little sap,” you giggled.

He swatted your hand away, “you’re a bully,” he scoffed.

“Guess that makes the two of us,” you sighed out.

basically, that was what finally made you two start talking

No, the gang didn’t know, you refused to treat him like a human when they were awake. But you softened up when they were asleep.

Zuko will admit he found it odd, but hey, talking in secret is better than no talking right?

He seemed lighter and more open when he started catching up and reliving childhoods with you

It felt like you were finally letting him into your concrete house, despite him having to force his way in at the beginning.

You were surprised when he opened up to you about things he never has with others, fond memories of his mother, even sometimes with his sister or father.

Despite your hatred for him, you couldn’t help but find yourself entranced by the way he spoke. His voice had a certain lull in it, a rasp accenting his words, the same words he struggled to find.

You yourself found it was easier to speak to him than some others, on nights where you both sat vulnerable, only protection being each other's promises.

You confessed to having a small crush on him as kids, shocked to find it used to be reciprocated.

You reminisced on times where you’d tease Zuko, and the times he’d finally stand up for himself against you

When the moon was highest in the sky, the secrets and such came further to light. He admitted he still felt like a bad guy in the end of the day, in his younger days, Zuko had never been the good guy.

You assured him people change, like the tides, like the weather, like the seasons.

(You refrained from mentioning his hair, it seemed like an inappropriate time to make fun of him)

He expressed to you times where he had travelled with his uncle, all their journeys and detours, and you did the same with your gang trips and adventures.

From the little things like Sokka being covered in Appa’s snot, to larger things like injuries and nightmares

Slowly, you turned from two people who tolerate each-other, to two people who actually really love each other.

Of course, NEVER EVER EVER would you admit that, but it was true.

The unfortunate time for the battle came, you took the road with Sokka, Toph and Suki. Assisting them with your lightning wad no easy task, it was exhausting and exhilarating all at the same time. Usually, you’d limit yourself to 3-4 shots a day, by the 10th minute, you were on 12. Your body was shaking and weak, but you pushed on, even though you knew your life was on the line.

After the long and tedious battle with all those soldiers, the sky turned blue, and you knew it was over, you had won the war.

You stumbled to the group, Sokka’s leg was hurt pretty bad and you didn’t want to take the attention off of him. Each step felt like your body was ablaze, and you held back noises of discomfort.

When you’d finally reached the gang, and exchanged hugs with everyone else, you stopped at Zuko. Mumbled, “I still hate you,” and then engulfed him in a hug so tight - you didn’t even know you were capable of it.

Everyone else was in shock at the sight, they were sure you hated him, but oh well, it’s better than hearing you complain again.

While they conversed, you felt yourself begin to lose consciousness.

You rested your head against him, loosening your grip and your vision went dark.

You were out for about 5 minutes before you regained consciousness. You were still in the same position, except by this time, everyone was looking at you concerned. Katara placed her palm on your forehead.

“I’m ok. Just tired.” You mumbled quietly.

You were suddenly aware of how close you were to the fire bender, immediately moving back and laughing nervously. Almost falling if not for Toph pushing you back to your feet.

You could see him deflate slightly.

“Thanks Zuko,” you punctuated it with a forced laugh.

“Yeah it’s cool,” he nodded, frowning.

As you all walked back to Appa, you found that you and him fell behind the group, walking at nearly the same pace.

“How much lightning did you use?”

“Do you think I was getting burned alive and counting?”

He chuckled, “I guess not, but you seem tired,”

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out,”

He smiled at you, nearing to try to assist you in walking. You quickly put a hand up, smiling at him and his cute little frowny face. He tilted his head to the side.

You slipped your hand into his, immediately feeling his body temperature get knocked up a few notches.

After a few more steps, you looked over to Appa as they climbed. Just as no one was looking, you walked up to him, and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

Then took a few steps towards the beast.

“Zuko,” he looked at you from his spot, still dazed, “this still doesn’t change anything between us.”

All the fire bender could do was laugh.

An: HI if u requested im starting soon hopefully <3

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geronimosong · 1 year ago

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Okay, for a long time, I had a head cannon. Now that we have a great new adaptation, it is a good time to share it.

I firmly believe that the Neriad Percy meets after his fall from St. Louis Arch is Amphitrite, the Sea Goddess and Wife of Posiedon. Why do I believe this well? Firstly, she is the highest regarded Nereid, and after Amphitrite married Poseidon, the Nereids became part of their royal court.

I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I bowed. "You're the woman who spoke to me in the Mississippi River." "Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court." "And … you serve in Poseidon's court?" She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest."

"If my father is so interested in me," I said, "why isn't he here? Why doesn't he speak to me?" A cold current rose out of the depths. "Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," the Nereid told me. "He stands at the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism.' "Even to their own children?" "Especially to them. The gods can work by indirect influence only. That is why I give you a warning, and a gift." She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm. - Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief

Theseus and Amphitrite, Athenian red-figure kylix C5th B.C., Metropolitan Museum of Art

Secondly, in mythology, King Minos questions Theseus's parentage with a ring thrown into the sea. Proving his connection to Poseidon, Theseus dives, carried by dolphins, to Poseidon's palace. Amphitrite treats him as a son, gifting him a purple cloak and a crown. Theseus triumphantly returns to his ship with these divine presents, reminiscent of Percy's encounter with a Nereid in "Lightning Thief."

Though Theseus proves his parentage to Poseidon, the god is not in the underwater palace. Theseus gains the ability to breathe underwater from Amphitrite. This parallels Percy's first underwater experience. You might ask why his stepmom would decide to help him; well, it is her kingdom that is at unwanted war, and Percy is her hope, too. In Riordan's own words, Poseidon and her have an open relationship:

“Most of the gods are jerks,” Delphin agreed. “And they have a lot of girlfriends even after they get married—” “Gah!” Amphitrite said. “I wouldn’t care about that. I’m not the jealous type. I just don’t want to be mistreated. I want to be my own person, do my own thing, without some man lording over me!”

As the years went by, Amphitrite discovered that Delphin was right. She did love her children even more than seabass, and most of the time Poseidon was a very good husband. He did have a lot of affairs with nymphs and mortals and whatnot, but strangely that didn’t bother Amphitrite so much. As long as Poseidon didn’t try to own her and tell her what to do, and as long as he was good to their three children, Amphitrite was cool. She was even nice to Poseidon’s demigod children, unlike some other goddesses I could name. (Cough, Hera, cough.) One time the hero Theseus came to visit, and Amphitrite treated him like an honored guest. She even gave him a purple cloak to wear, which was a sign of kingship. She’s been pretty cool to me, too. She doesn’t freak out when I leave my dirty laundry in the guest room. She makes cookies for me. She’s never tried to kill me that I know of. Pretty much all you could ask of an immortal stepmom. - Percy Jackson's Greek Gods

The description that Percy gives of Neriad matches the way he describes Amphitrite in Percy Jackson's Greek Gods, Although it could be argued that all the Neriads are described in the same Percy imagines the Neriad to resemble his mom because of the warmth she emits.

She had flowing black hair, a dress made of green silk. Light flickered around her, and her eyes were so distractingly beautiful I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she was riding. - Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief

She came in riding a hippocamps, in traditional depictions Amphitrite is represented either enthroned beside Poseidon or driving with him in a chariot drawn by sea-horses (hippocamps). It is one of her queenly attributes that separates her from the other Nereids along with her crown.

Amphitrite was gorgeous. The more she tried to avoid the gods, the more they pursued her. Her black hair was pinned back in a net of pearls and silk. Her eyes were as dark as mocha. She had a kind smile and a beautiful laugh. Usually, she dressed in a simple white gown. - Percy Jackson's Greek Gods

Amphitrite sat on a coral ledge, watching the sunset filter through the deep water and make rosy streaks in the seaweed forests. A seabass lay in her open palm, all blissed out, because Amphitrite really had a way with fish. Normally I don’t think of sea bass as cuddly, but they loved her. Delphin could see why Poseidon liked her. She radiated a sort of kindness and gentleness that you don’t see in a lot of immortals. Usually with gods, the longer they lived, the more they acted like spoiled children. Delphin wasn’t sure why, but that whole thing about getting wiser as you got older? Not so much. - Percy Jackson's Greek Gods

Hestia is the only other God that Percy has such an honorable description of in this entire book. This is significant. So, I can't wait to see if the show proves my theory to be right or not.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #disney percy jackson #grover underwood #pjo #pjo series #pjo theory #pjo thoughts #poseidon #Amphitrite #percy series #greek gods #greek mythology #lightning thief

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kalisburnerphone · 11 months ago

Text

Amazing // Choi Seungcheol

Summary: Seungcheol doesn’t understand why she won’t let him take care of her when it’s all he wants to do. He has no idea how she found out about what he’s been doing every month for the past six months but he’s sure he can get her to agree with his logic.

Warnings: Idol!Seungcheol x OC!Solana, kinda one-sided situationship, a tiny bit suggestive,Seungcheol on his glucose guardian agenda, curve/plus-sized, foreigner!oc, Seungcheol calls her Sol, princess. I think that’s about it, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: This is part of an idolverse series that’ll be posted in non-chronological order. I’m not sure how many parts members will have but there might be instances of crossovers.Mingyu, Seungcheol and Minghao are the only ones that I have anything written/plotted for. I’m not promising frequent updates because I’m currently on an intensive training program before starting grad school but I have some free time starting Thursday so I’ll try to work on pieces during that time. I only just got back into posting my work in the kpop community after a break from it but I do enjoy anime as well so you may come across it on my dashboard. Lastly, I am absolute trash when it comes to titles and summaries so please bare with me in advance.

Solana and Seungcheol rarely argued and if they did, it was usually about the same thing; Seungcheol spending his money on her like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to do. And in his mind, it was. Seungcheol understood that she was more than capable of providing for and taking care of herself but he felt as though she shouldn’t have to with him around.

They’d met before he’d even acquired the amount of money he had today so he knew for a fact that it wasn’t why she was with him which is exactly why he spent it on her. Seungcheol in most instances believed that actions spoke louder than words and if he felt like buying his girlfriend’s entire shopping cart on her favorite jewelry site than that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

Usually Sol wouldn’t say anything because no matter how much she told him not to, he’d find a way to justify his actions and just do it once again. This time however, she refused to let him.

“Yah!! Choi Seungcheol!” She exclaimed as she entered her apartment. His head pops out from the kitchen where he’d been peeling tangerines when he hears her.

“What’d I do?” She only ever called him by his government name when she angry or irritated with him.

“Y’know what you did! I thought we agreed that you’d ease up on excessive amounts of spending that you do on me?”

“We did, I haven’t spent excessively on you since the last time you gave me an earful for buying everything in your cart from The Jade Jewelers. What’s this about?” He asks tangerines forgotten as he follows her to the living room area, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at her rummaging through her bag before pulling out a small pile of paper.

“You’re really going to play dumb with me right now? You haven’t been spending excessively? Then explain this.” She spits out pressing the printed sheets to his chest.

Seungcheol takes the papers from her hand, looking them over before ‘shit’ is whispered from his lips. “You weren’t supposed to find out about this.”

“Well, no shit Seungcheol. Explain yourself.” She snaps as she sits on the couch with her arms crossed and looking directly at him.

“How’d you find out?”

“That’s not important. I’ve been living here for six months and you’ve been paying my rent this entire time after I told you I didn’t like you spending excessively on me especially when it came to things that I’m capable of handling on my own.”

“I know you’re capable, I do, but just because you can do all these things for yourself doesn’t mean that you have to. I’m here and I’m willing, wanting to do these things for you but you won’t let me.Why can’t I do nice things for you?”

Because it makes this feel like it’s more than what it is. It’s what she wants to tell him because as much as Seungcheol acted like it wasn’t that big of a deal, it was to her. She’d constantly have to remind herself that they weren’t in a relationship. They hooked up whenever he had free time and him paying for her KTX ticket and accommodation in Seoul was as much as she said she’d allow him but Choi Seungcheol had a way of getting whatever he wanted.

“It’s not that you can’t do nice things for me, it’s just that you have a habit of behaving like a damn glucose guardian when it comes to expenses.”

“Okay, and? If I want to behave like your sugar daddy and pay and do everything for you then you should just let me. Think about it,” he says dropping in the space next to her wasting no time in pulling her onto his lap.

“I cover all your basic expenses and necessities and all you have to do is sit pretty and get that degree. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.”

“No. Now either fix it or I’m transferring the money to your account.”

“I’ll send it right back. Play with me if you want to.” He smirks at her.

“God, you’re so infuriating.” She huffs getting off his lap and moving down the hall to her bedroom.”

“Yahhhh, we weren’t finished yet.” She can hear him pouting as he follows behind her.

“Yes, we are because you’re going to do it again regardless of what I say right now.” She responses slipping off her jacket.

“Sollllllll, are you really that upset about it?” When she doesn’t reply, he wraps his arms around her waist and rests his head on her shoulder. “If I compromise with you, will you stop being upset with me and go back to calling me Cheol?”

“Does that compromise include you not paying all my bills?” She replies sarcastically.

“Watch it, princess. Don’t want that mouth getting you in trouble don’t you? I’ve already let you slide with the sass, don’t push it.” He speaks into her ear before lightly nipping at her neck.

“I’ll let you pay your phone bill and groceries but that’s it. Despite what you say I know you only moved out from the dorms this early because of me and to allow us more privacy. The least I can do is cover your rent and utilities, I can’t help it because that’s just who I am and you know this. Now, forgive me please?”

Seungcheol asks spinning her around in his arms. She was just about an inch or two shorter than him so he didn’t have to do much to look her in the eyes. “I don’t want you mad at me on my last night before I leave.”

“Forgive me,” there’s a peck to her cheek followed by another until Seungcheol has pressed kisses all over her face and has her a giggling mess.

“Fine, fine,Cheolll.” She laughs trying to escape him but he’s not having it.

“I can’t hear you princess, what was that?” He teases as he grasps her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“I forgive you,”

“And?” he encourages though he already knows that he’s gotten his way once again.

“I’ll let you take care of me even if it means putting my pride and independent nature aside and letting you pay my rent.” she sighs dramatically.

She’d never admit it but seeing Seungcheol be domestic had a tendency to do things to her. Things he’d never let her hear the end of if he knew. She’d seen a lot of different sides to Choi Seungcheol in the two years since they started all this but domesticated Seungcheol was her second favorite.

“Y’know what’s amazing?” He asks and she’s so busy staring at him that she misses the teasing lithe in his voice.

“Hmmm?” Her hands are draped over his shoulders, fingers playing in the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands around her waist resting on the curve of her ass as he leans in closer to her ear.

“We both know that I have no problem getting your pussy wet but when are you finally going to admit that me being all domesticated and taking care of you gets you all hot and bothered the same way it does to me? Hmmm?”

The way her breath hitches is enough to let him know that he’s right but he doesn’t act on it.

“C’mon, I cut fruit and we have new episodes to finish.” He says kissing her cheek as he leaves her standing in the bedroom like he didn’t just read her for filth. It takes a few seconds for her to recover but once she does she’s following behind him.

“Yah! Choi Seungcheol!”

#svt x oc #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt smut #svt #svt seungcheol #scoups smut #scoups #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen scoups #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #svt cheol #seventeen smut #seventeen x oc #Choi Seungcheol x OC

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bokettochild · 11 months ago

Note

For the febwhump:

Day 10 with little legend in ALTTP and killing a knight for the first time?

Okay, so Legend wasn't really talking (shock and grief do that, it's okay) so this is Fable's POV. I hope you enjoy it!

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 4,985

Summary: Death is familiar to the little girl who will one day be queen. To the boy she had to ask to be her champion, not so much.

Zelda has never particularly thought about death before.

Sure, mother and father were betrayed and killed by a dear friend, and she knows this, but it’s just as much a fact of life to her as the stones of the castle and the swords in the hands of her grandfather’s knights. Death exists and she’s seen it, seen public executions held for terrible criminals and traitors to the crown, but even to her tender years these things are simply part of life. The people who die are always faceless people who don’t matter anymore, and she’d never known her parents anyway, so why should she mourn for them?

She’s heard the castle staff call her a ‘cold little thing’, but in a world where her destiny is to wait for the next escape of a demon she or her descendants must face, how can they blame her? Especially since most of the staff don’t seem to like her much anyway, or Grandfather. She gets the idea that the king of Hyrule isn’t liked at all by most people, but she doesn’t know why and she’s long since given up asking. The knights only assure her with their loyalty and the servants excuse themselves under the pretext of having chores to attend to.

It’s alright, she doesn’t really care what they think. She doesn’t really care about them either.

That is, until suddenly her maid is dead and she’s being hauled down to a dungeon by soldiers who now do not swear their allegiance with charming smiles, but who march, stone-faced, to lock her up, despite her demands to know what’s going on, what they think they’re doing, and what on earth is wrong with them. She can feel it, a heavy magic settled over them, and she doesn’t blame them for their actions, since she knows they aren’t in control, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying when she’s tossed into the cold stone cell and left there, locked up like one of Grandfather’s prisoners. Calls into the darkness for answers go unheard, and as the night drags on, all she can do is wish, wish, wish for someone to please just answer, to get her out.

Maybe the servants wouldn’t call her a cold little thing if they could see her curled up in her cell, pretty dress ruined and golden hair dirty, sobbing her eyes out into her skirts, but they aren’t here. She doesn’t even know if they’re alive. She doesn’t mourn them either, although there's some distant idea of sadness that their families might not see them again and that they don’t deserve to die just because of whatever it is that’s happening. Still, death isn’t a very present thought in her mind until at last, she manages to catch wind of what’s going on.

Aganim, her father’s old friend and counselor, who’s been serving her grandfather for some time now, has betrayed them, has taken control of the minds of their knights, and now intends to re-open the Sacred Realm, which her ancestors sealed, in order to- like so many other foolish, foolish people- try and obtain the Triforce. To do it, he must first gain the power of the seven sages and the princess herself, and based on what little she knows of dark magic, she’s rather sure he’s not just going to ask them all nicely.

She needs to get out, desperately. She needs to get out before Aganim uses her magic to open the way to the realm where Ganon is sealed! She needs to get out before he kills her, using her like an offering, just like what almost happened to the Spirit Maiden all those thousands of years ago!

Her wishes and cries to the heavens grow more and more desperate. A call to anyone, just anyone, to please just come and help her!

“Who's calling to me?” The answering voice startles her, makes her pull her head up and look around, trying to see the person speaking. The voice sounds almost like her own, but tired, so tired, and somewhat confused.

She feels the same. She hasn’t been able to rest all day, attending to her studies, and now she’s spending the night in a dungeon, away from feathered pillows and heavy blankets and any small semblance of warmth. She wants out, but here, at last, someone’s heard her.

“My name is Zelda,” she says back, wishes back. She doesn’t think there’s a person here with her, just a voice.

She’s heard those favored by the Triforce can gain strange power, but being able to send and receive thoughts isn’t something she’d been counting on. Still, she’s not complaining, and she’s not going to question it either, just as long as she can get out of here and back to someplace safe.

Oh heavens, is grandfather safe? Will Aganim do anything to him? He doesn’t have powers to use and he’s not much of a threat these days, not without anyone to back him up. Will the wizard maybe let her grandfather go? Just lock him up or hide him or not let him do anything? Is he under control of the wizard too, like the knights?

“I’m Link,” the voice answers, still confused, still tired, still sounding too young to do her any good.

She’s no adult herself, but everyone else is. Still, maybe he can tell someone? Maybe he can send help? At least someone can hear her, she’s not going to give up just because they sound like they’re her age! “Help! I’m Zelda! I’m trapped in the castle dungeons! Please, send some help!”

Like a ribbon slipping between her fingers, the presence she could feel answering her; the warmth and light and ray of hope, slips away, no voice answering in return. She slumps down onto the stone again, sobbing. It’s not fair! She hasn’t done anything wrong! She doesn’t understand! Why is this happening? Why would her father’s old friend do this to them? Why isn’t anyone doing anything? Why is the only one to hear her a child?

Just a boy. Just some kid out there who probably doesn’t know how to get around in a castle or how to deal with a knight or a wizard. Just a kid, and she knows, she knows, kids never get listened to! No one listens to her, and she’s the princess! So why would anyone listen to a random kid? Especially one who tries to say that the princess is in danger, when most people don’t like royals to begin with, and anyway, no one’s going to believe that sort of thing! As far as anyone outside the castle probably thinks, she’s all tucked up in her big bed, just finished with dinner, and drifting off to sleep. Who’d bother to check and see otherwise? Especially if it’s only at the behest of a child!

Maybe some people think she’s cold, but the sobs that ring through the dungeons sound terribly awful to her, and it’s enough to make her cry harder, because try as she might, the sounds and sights of crying just makes her cry, no matter how much she fights it. Her own tears echo back off the stone, like the wailing of some tortured soul, and her mind flies off to what and who might have been here before her.

What sorts of people have lived in these dungeons? Died in these dungeons? Where there ever any little girls like her? Did they die down here? Did they escape? Did they have mums and dads to try and get them out, to hold them, or did they get left down here like she is? Just sobbing and crying with no one to hear them until they died and did whatever dead things do.

The old books say that dead things are monsters that wander around, long and thin with ghastly smiles, and attack heroes and knights when they come too close. What if that sort of a dead-monster is down here? Gibdoes, she thinks they’re called, or is it redeads? Whatever they are, she doesn’t want them to be down here. She’d much rather be alone and forgotten than be found by something so awful.

Except she won’t be forgotten, her mind whispers, and it’s not such a comforting thought as she wishes it was. Aganim knows she’s here, and he wants to keep her here until he’s ready to sacrifice her, split her open and make her blood spill to give power to his spell.

She’s seen heads chopped off before, but they were far away and not important. She didn’t care who they were, because it didn’t matter once they were dead and she couldn’t do anything about it anyway. Will other people think about her that way? Will it not matter? Impa will care, and Grandfather too- if he’s still okay, if he finds out, but who else will care? The knights who are nice to her are now mean and cold, and the servants never liked her anyway. The thought of being forgotten is worse than the idea of turning into a dead monster and trying to eat people- or something, but she’s all out of sobs and her eyes hurt from crying.

It doesn’t matter anyways, no one can hear her either way.

Or, rather, she thought so, only there’s the sound of feet in the hall. Feet that patter softly and do not thud and thump like the heavy boots that knights wear or swish and shuffle like the wizard in his great heavy robe. No, they creep slowly across the stone, slow and unsure, like a deer coming slowly out of the trees. They move quietly and quickly, but hesitate, and that alone tells her it’s not a rambling, long dead evil that wanders the halls, nor a servant or soldier who knows this castle. It's not feet she knows, but foreign feet are her best chance of getting out, so she pulls herself up, wipes away what’s left of her tears, and moves to peek through the bars of her cell and out into the hall.

She cannot see anything but stone. Whomever crafted these cells had no intention of allowing the occupants to see what was happening anywhere save just in front of the door.

She can still hear though. She can hear the quiet, unsure tapping of boots. More importantly though, she can feel, and that delicate, evasive ribbon of hope drifts back into her hands, a light presence making itself know in the darkness around her, like a candle coming alight befgore her tired and puffy eyes.

The boy.

Link.

She isn’t sure why he’s here, alone, but at least someone is trying. It’s more than she supposes some people would do, and at least he listened to her, which is far more than most people have done! His steps are wary, but she calls out, with her mind, like before, rather than her voice, urging him closer, telling him that’s he’s close, almost there. Just a little further and he’ll be here and maybe, just maybe, they can figure out some way to get this prison open, or at least she can tell him what’s going on so he can tell someone else.

If the Sacred Realm is unsealed, Ganon will be set free, and the people of Hyrule are not prepared for that. They need to send warning- she needs to send warning, needs to tell someone and get the word out, to give something to her people so they know that things aren’t as they seem, that they’re sitting on the edge of a precipice, too close to the fiery hell before them. Her history books talk about a time when Ganon won, when he ruled their kingdom. She doesn’t want that for them, especially because she’s heard grandfather say they’ve only just recovered from that war. They can’t take it again. Hyrule needs peace. She doesn’t think peace is likely, but maybe they can stop too much of the world from being hurt by the evil magic, if they stop Aganim before he can do anything more.

The feet stop.

She can hear breathing now, soft and rattling somewhat, like her own does as she tries so hard to look through the bars of her prison. Has he been crying, like she has? Come to think of it, if she, locked up and also away from anything else in here, is scared, how must it be for some common boy who’s probably never been in the castle? Or the dungeons much less? For all she knows, he might have been here before, to visit someone or say goodbye before an execution, but still! He’s got to be at least a little scared too.

She tries reaching out, listening again. His voice had been tired then, but she’d heard it, heard it from far away (because she knows there aren’t any little boys in the castle; she’s the only one her age). She could hear it then, so he, like her, must have been able to catch ahold of her thoughts, sent out like a wish to the stars she can’t see from in here. That means maybe she can reach out and hear his!

Except that the sound of a loud clang makes her jump, startle back and fall over, unable to see what it was that made the sound, but well able to hear what’s happening, and tell that it’s very close indeed. There’s a scuffle, a gasp that shudders before there’s panting, feet skidding over stone and another loud clang.

It sounds like the executioner’s axe on the stone of a courtyard.

“Shit!”

It’s him. It's Link. That's his voice, breathing and panting and gasping as she hears another clang, this time the blade screeching off of stone.

Desperately, she moves along the bars of her cell, trying to see out, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s happening. She’d call out, but Grandfather always told her to keep quiet if she hears things that worry her. Enemies might be close and she should never make it known where she’s hiding, because that puts her and anyone with her in danger, and princesses should not put people in danger if they can help it. So, she keeps her mouth shut, and her ears open.

Light feet dart, this time without hesitation, a hiss of breath that maybe carries soft words on it sounding, as well as the rasping of a second voice, breathing within something. Breathing within something heavy and thick, making it echo. It sounds like a knight, one with one of those very big and scary helmets that Grandfather makes them take off if she’s around, so she can see their real faces instead of the cold iron ones.

She hopes it’s not a knight.

The sound of an axe hitting stone, yet again, says it might be.

Link’s voice is panting, feet darting. She hears a hiss of steel, a sword drawing, and then there are a series of very loud blows. There’s yelps and shouts from Link, but nothing from the heavy, echoing breather, just the slam of an axe, again and again.

She can’t do anything. She can’t help or watch and she can only hear the awful sounds, the cry of pain from what she thinks has to be Link, and the clang, clang, clang of blades on stone, on armor, or on each other. She can only sit. Only sit and hope.

No, she can pray. Grandfather says that her lineage, that mother and grandmother and all of them, that their prayers mean something extra special, because they have power from the heavens. When bad things happen, even if he won’t let her know what, he always tells her to pray. Pray for their people and the kingdom and for him, so he’ll do what he should, or can figure out what to do. She always does. Impa takes her to the little prayer rooms in the castle, or sometimes down to the church, and she offers prayers between her studies and her meals until Grandfather tells her that things are better again. She may not be good at a lot, but she has lots of practice praying, so even though the cell floor is so dirty and the clanging of weapons is nothing like the deep ringing of bells, she still kneels and prays as hard as she can. Prays until she hears a scream and a shout and heavy thud.

The clanging stops.

She keeps praying. Please let Link have won. She doesn’t know how (unless maybe he’s a squire? Yes that could work!) but she needs it to be him who won. She needs to know that the only person who can hear her call for help is indeed the one who’s still standing, because she doesn’t know if she can handle having hope stray so close only to be torn away at the very last of seconds.

Soft, gently scuffing boots creep across the floor again, heavy panting, like a fawn just escaped from a hunter, peeking out to see if it’s safe once more.

“Link? Is that you?” She doesn’t get up, keeps her hands folded, she’s got to be ready to start praying for help again if it isn’t.

The voice that answers back is gentle candle-light and warmth, although it shakes and stammers. “M-Miss Zelda?” She doesn’t have time to get up before feet move closer and then there’s a boy standing in front of her. He’s short, maybe her height but probably a bit shorter, with messy pink hair hastily tucked under a green cap. His eyes are wide and blown out in the darkness, but the lantern in his hand makes them dance a bit too, almost red. Red to match the blood that spatters up and across his front, covers his boots and still touches his hands and the cloak wrapped up around him. “Are you okay?”

She blinks. Is she okay? Why is he asking that? She’s the one who just sat in here, praying, untouched, and he was the one that fought...whatever it is that he just fought. “I’m alright. Are you? You’re covered in blood...”

He winces, looks away, doesn’t look down and instead his flickering eyes dart all over everything else, as if desperate to not think about the fresh crimson all over him. “I’m okay.” And then, a moment later. “It’s....it’s not mine.”

His tunic is ripped a bit on one side, and she can see where damage has been done, but she doesn’t challenge him. Boys are funny, Impa says, and if you tell them they’re wrong they pout and throw a fit and won't listen to you anymore. Link’s the first person who’s listened in a long time; she doesn’t want to lose that. Instead, she just nods, doubtful, but doesn’t say anything. It’s not like either of them can do anything about it anyways. She can’t heal and there’s nothing she can offer him either.

He glances at her, and she recognizes abruptly that his eyes are terribly vacant. He’s there, he sees her, but he doesn’t seem to register anything else, just stare at her dumbly, like he’s not all inside his head.

“Did you happen to see a key somewhere?” It’s sort of a reach, since she doubts that the wizard would make it that easy, but the flickering crimson eyes turn back again towards the way he’d come from, and she can see him shudder, revulsion briefly marring his otherwise rather pretty features.

He nods. “Yeah.” There’s no waiting for her to say anything, just the setting down of the lantern in his hand, an old thing but well-tended, and he moves back out of her sight again. There’s some shuddering and catching of breath, rustling and clanking, and a squelch she supposes might be blood. He’s back again a moment or so later, slower than before, but holding the keys. They’re also covered in blood. He’s got more on him too, but his dull eyes are focused on the door, on unlocking it and pushing it open, and she’s quick to stand when he does.

She will not stay any longer, not now that there’s a way out. She’s not sure which of them took the other’s hand first, but as she tells him where to go, he leading the way with the light and with a still dripping sword on his back, and she following, it doesn’t matter. She follows past the fallen corpse of what she recognizes as the royal executioner, through the halls that run rampant with rats, trudging through sewers and mire and muck. The ground underfoot squelches, making her stomach churn. The quickly cooling blood that smears over her hand from Link’s own only makes it worse, and she fights back the urge to pull away. She has to stay with him though; he’s her only hope and only protector, there’s no other way out and she can’t do this alone.

They walk and walk, and she’d never realized before how many traps and dangers lay between the castle and the many hidden exits it possesses. The tunnel is cold, is wet, is damp, and once they exit again into the outside world, she finds it’s much the same. Rain beats down, lighting flashing overhead and thunder booming in their ears as they dart across the open spaces of Hyrule Field. Now out of the castle, she’s not sure what they ought to be doing, but she follows him. She’s never allowed outside alone, but he’ll know this land well, he’ll have lived here. He’ll know enough to hopefully know a safe place for them to hide. Still, it’s terrifying. She’s never seen the world flash like this, never slipped and tripped and made herself this muddy before. Link wraps her in his cloak, eyes still blank and distant, hands deft and fumbling, and while it’s warmer, by just a bit, it smells terribly of blood. Still, it’s better than nothing.

In time, through the rain, she can make out a familiar structure. Almost like a second home for how often she’s been there; the church rises up before them with it’s spires and glittering windows, bells chiming twice and twice only, just as they’re hurrying up towards the doors. She knows they’ll be unlocked.

They are.

Link pushes them open with some trouble, more than they require at any rate, but it’s only then that she realizes that he’s shaking. Not from cold, she doesn’t think, otherwise it would have started far earlier, he would have been shaking when he first came to her, because he was soaked then too, wet and spattered in muck from the sewers as well as the blood. No, now he’s shaking so violently that she finds herself reaching to take the lantern from his hand the moment they're inside the dimly lit sanctuary.

“Princess Zelda?” The familiar voice of the church Father catches her attention, making her turn from her companion to face the man. It’s two in the morning by the ring of the bells, and she can’t fathom why he’s awake, but there’s a candle burning and the smell of incense in the air, familiar and, like Link himself, an assuring presence that makes her heart stop the pounding in her chest, settling instead with a heavy sigh and soft cry she didn’t know was still left in her.

The Father hurries towards them, and while she’s always been taught to be reverent, she can’t help but throw herself into open arms, shaking and trembling herself as his hand soothes her hair, warm, creaking voice- ancient as the trees she thinks sometimes, sounding in words she doesn’t bother to hear.

They’re brought in and given warm blankets, and the bell-ringer appears to offer them warm tea, which she drinks slowly while the Father sits between them. Relief is a strange thing, a foreign thing, but she accepts it the same way she’s been taught to accept her other confusing feelings, sitting and listening to her heart and letting her mind spin until it finds itself too tired to keep on spinning. Soft prayers and the sound of rain fill her ears, and when at last she’s got a handle on herself again, she turns to look at her savior.

Link is still shaking, arms wrapped tightly about himself and eyes vacant.

She reaches out, not with her hands, but with the thoughts in her head, like before, and this time there’s no sudden noise to disrupt it. Link’s thoughts are far more jumbled and spinning than even her own.

‘-didn’t mean to, I didn’t! I- oh heavens, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t! I- he's dead, I killed him he died and I- I- oh heaven help! I didn’t want to! I didn’t-” he’s shaking, teeth gnawing his lip and eyes slipping closed. ‘We’re safe, we’re safe, we’re safe. I got Miss- Princess Zelda is safe and I got her here and I didn’t end up crying and I didn’t let her down. God, she must have been so scared, I know I was, let her be okay? It must have been awful being locked up in there! I- I couldn’t-” he’s shaking his head, hands plucking at is sleeves, at the blanket. Even with the rain, there’s still bits of blood stuck about his nails and the cuffs of his sleeves, and he seems acutely aware of that fact. His mind spins so much she’s dizzy just listening, hearing him worry first for her and then be washed over with regret at killing, only to them have his mind drift to death and watching people die and-

Zelda is struck with the sudden realization that Link, unlike herself, is not accustomed to death. She’s seen it enough times that seeing a body only brings disgust and discomfort, but sadness does not wash over her to see an enemy laid low. She’d only thought to avoid the pooling blood as passing the slain knight outside of her cell, but Link is actively experiencing regret for ending said knight’s life.

“Link?

The Father turns at her words, but the boy does not, instead rocking slowly as too fast breaths escape him.

“Link, dear boy, can you hear me?” It’s such a relief to release it to the Father and let him try to get the attention of her savior, the man turning fully towards the curled up little boy, one hand settling on his shoulder.

Link does not respond.

The father’s hand slips to rub across trembling shoudlers, steady, soothing motions as his voice, warm and soft, continues. “I do not know what brought you here at this hour, but you are safe here, my son. It is alright.”

“M-Miss-”

“The princess is alright.” The Father assures. “She is safe here as well, and no one will hurt her.”

There’s a small sob from her companion and she can hear his thoughts, the raging swell of the becoming less and less an effort to hear, instead pushing back against her, pushing out and demanding release, pouring into her own mind with terrifying clarity. Pain, anguish, regret, fear, guilt, overwhelming sadness. The ever-present thought of “be strong for her, she looks so scared” makes something inside her own heart twist up and her own breath catch.

“You got me out,” she murmurs, because speaking aloud seems almost wrong in the silence and peace of the otherwise empty church, “thank you.”

Dull eyes fall, Link burying his face in his arms with a sob that has tears pricking at her own eyes all over again. Shre’s always been weak to tears, a fault that Grandfather has warned her must be controlled, lest it be used against her, but she can’t help but cry along with the boy beside her, even as the Father comforts them.

Maybe she’s used to death, but he isn’t. More so though, he’s the one who swung the blade. He had killed a man, killed for her and soiled hands that no doubt had never caused harm further than a fight with friends or other such mischief that common children are allowed to get up to. Blood is new to him, terrifying still, not something he was raised watching be spilled, not something he expects.

His clothes are soaked with it. Even though a potion was given to him, prompted slowly to his lips and choked down dumbly, he’s got his own blood and that of the fallen knights both spattered over him, staining his clothes. It’s not only theirs though, because her peeks into his thoughts grant her visions of a man, in the same dungeons as they had been, wounded and bleeding out, of this same boy, only moments before finding her, finding said man and pleading, fighting against the flow of blood, of tears on his face and hurt in his heart. He’d lost someone just before coming to her. He’d been blank even before killing, forcing himself onwards to help her, guided only by the final words of the dead man in the sewers. He’d wandered and been chased, had faught a foe three times his own size, been forced to thrust a sword that’s too big for him into the heart of a man after just seeing the effects of the same.

Death is following this boy, biting at his heels tonight, and the more their thoughts bleed together in her head, the more the weight of what has happened hits her.

He’s killed for her, and with the knights taken over and the only ones on her side being the Father and this boy, she might have to ask him to do it again.

#alttp #a link to the past #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu fable #ketto writes #asks and answers #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #tw death #tw blood

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stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage · 2 years ago

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I need to gush about Origins and discuss Duncan okay, listen- DAO is so good for a plethora of reasons but it’s the origins, the thing that it’s literally named after. Which origin you play is the important decision on the players part that has an impact on everything you do, especially if you go hard into the roleplaying of it all, it makes me want to scream. I adore it so much.

So Duncan, right? Great character, love that dude. I read The Calling and he's one of the best parts of that book. If you haven't read it, I recommend it just for Duncan alone.

I enjoy reading opinion pieces on Duncan, especially when the poster mentions which origin their warden is. I find it so interesting because your origin can change your entire perception of him.

Playing as Aeducan or Brosca? Duncan has great respect for dwarves just as the dwarves do for the wardens. Duncan’s your hero. He saved your life. You would’ve been executed or left to rot in the Deep Roads if not for him. And since the wardens are so respected, it’s honestly an honor to join them, no?

Playing a Cousland? You’ve lost everything. Duncan not only does what he can to keep your father alive long enough for you and your mother to find him, but he saves you and gives you a shot to avenge your family by becoming a warden.

Playing as Amell or Surana? Your best friend lied to you about being a blood mage and chances are you tried to help him escape rather than turn him in, and now he’s gone and Greagoir demands you be punished. But here comes Duncan to conscript you, to take you away from the prison known as the Circle of Magi.

And I know this can vary depending on how you play or what kind of character you’ve created, but I believe you’re waaaay more likely to have a better opinion of Duncan in these origins… but if you play as Mahariel or Tabris?

Mahariel’s more obvious, here. You’re Dalish, and odds are, you and Tamlen are on the same page about humans. Duncan, a human, dragged your ass back to your clan after the eluvian gave you the blight, and sure, that was nice of him… except when you go looking for Tamlen and Duncan destroys the mirror, he’s so dismissive. He doesn’t care about Tamlen. There’s no point in going looking for him, he’s dead. Also you have the blight and Duncan’s taking you away from your family to make you a warden and no, you have no choice in the matter. He'll force his hand if he needs to. Say goodbye, forget about Tamlen, you’ll never see your family again, you’re a warden now. Hope you have fun involving yourself in all these human affairs while everyone points out how different you are!

First off, I think most Mahariel players would agree that they’re still not over Tamlen. How many of you had the thought, “If we look just a little longer, we could find Tamlen and make him a warden, too!” only for Duncan to ruin that? I don’t blame any Mahariel for throwing a fit when he and the Keeper agree you need to go, nor do I blame them for any ill feelings toward him.

And Tabris? This one is personal; my canon warden is a female Tabris, Rosalie, and Duncan really gets to me.

Rose's already being made to marry a man she's never met, some human nobles made their first attempt to crash the wedding, and now here’s this other human waltzing in. Duncan is such a little shit here, too. When you try asking him to leave, he actively tries to push your buttons just to see what you’ll do. But that’s nothing. When Rose and the other women are taken by Vaughan and his buddies, Soris and Nelaros go to Duncan who pulls his bullshit “wardens can’t get involved, they must remain neutral, best I can do is give you a sword and crossbow, good luck.”

Duncan KNOWS what will happen to those women but nope, can’t get involved. Wardens must remain neutral, can’t upset the nobles. I firmly believe that if Duncan had gone with them, Nelaros wouldn’t have been killed and maybe they could’ve made it to Shianni in time, and that infuriates me.

And yeah, in the end it’s Duncan who saves Rose from the guard, but you expect me to be okay with going with him? Alone? After everything that just happened?

It almost feels like Duncan was more interested in testing you, to see if you COULD get out of that situation or what you’d do when the guard showed up. That gives me a lot of complicated feelings about Duncan, and the way the Grey Wardens do things in general. Because let me tell you, Rose hurls that “Wardens must not involve themselves, they must remain neutral” out the fucking window, even post DAO after the blight is over and things return to “normal” for the wardens.

Side note, I like to think that the wardens out at Weisshaupt or wherever contact Alistair at some point like "What the hell is Warden-Commander Tabris doing over there??? She's breaking every rule we have??" and Alistair's just shrugs like "My wife killed an archdemon to end the Blight and survived, she gets to do whatever she wants forever and honestly, I love that for her."

But anyway-- I get it, Duncan. The Grey Wardens were booted outta Fereldan once before and we don't want a repeat of that. Sure. Fine. Makes sense...but also Rose doesn't give a shit about that? She may come to understand it eventually but that doesn't mean she accepts or forgives it, or would ever be willing to adapt the same attitude.

And I'm not even going to get into everything with the Joining and Ser Jory, because oh my god.

Everything Duncan does influences Rose's views on the Grey Wardens and their duty, like if there was ever anything she and Alistair have straight up argued about, it's Duncan and the concept of "being a warden is an honor."

And I think that's neat. Duncan's a consistency in every origin and even though he dies so early on, his influence remains with the warden no matter who they are.

#dragon age origins #dragon age #dao #duncan dao #alistair theirin #warden rosalie tabris #i love duncan as a character but rose has mixed feels at best #she's probably only as kind as she is about him because that's alistair's father figure #and rose can sympathize with that given her relationship with her own father and nearly losing him

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halfagonyandhope · 1 month ago

Text

ignite the stars │ch. 20

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

Satine Kryze is an internationally-recognized scholar in genocide studies who recently resigned from the Department of State over her concerns regarding the agency's ethics. Ben Kenobi is a tenured professor at Georgetown University studying the use of religion to justify military conflicts. Once high school sweethearts, the two haven't spoken since parting ways for university. That is, until Satine accepts a research fellowship - at Georgetown.

---

Satine officially moves into Ben’s Old Town Alexandria apartment that weekend. Some of her furniture and other household items they decide to donate, mostly the pieces she’d picked up in grad school as thrift store finds that have seen better days. Other items they move into storage. While they haven’t talked about it yet, they share an understanding: his two-bedroom apartment will suffice for now, but someday they want a proper home, one that they own. So those items moved into storage - those are an investment in that future, one that Satine hopes isn’t too far away.

A few things she does take with her, such as her desk and sentimental knick knacks like sandbakelse tins. The tins are small and bowl-shaped with ornamental ridges used for making holiday cookies, and she’d been gifted them by her adoptive parents. Satine doesn’t celebrate Christmas, of course, but she thinks maybe this year she can get Ben on board with helping her try to bake the cardamom- and almond-flavored cookies.

Somehow, she doesn’t think he’ll be too opposed.

Her birthday arrives shortly after her move, aligning this year with the summer solstice. Ben wakes her with the sun, kissing her and bringing her to ecstasy before the sunrise is complete.

As they lie together afterward, his thumb traces over her ring, and they kiss lazily but longingly.

They don’t end up moving far from bed that day, and he makes good on his promise from Valentine’s Day to see how many times he can bring her to climax. While they rest in between, they search for job openings and create a list of the institutions to which they want to apply.

One of particular interest has just been posted at Harvard. It fits Satine’s skillset a bit more than it does Ben’s, and they decide she should apply.

“It’d be a homecoming of sorts,” Ben says. “Really not that far from Andover.”

“I wonder how many of our classmates ended up at Harvard? I can’t fathom we’d be the first.”

“Some of them absolutely should not end up anywhere near Harvard,” says Ben, and Satine laughs. “But in all seriousness, Massachusetts would be a good choice. We wouldn’t have to worry about state politics there.”

It’s clear where his mind is headed, and Satine looks over at him.

“Do you want children?” she asks, curious.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just know I want the ability to protect you if you were to get pregnant and can't - or don't want to - continue the pregnancy.”

And at that she closes the laptop and sets it on one of the nightstands, leading to a tangle of limbs and bedsheets.

After, while still breathing heavily, Satine responds, “I’m not sure about children, either. At the moment I feel...ambivalent. But if you were to eventually decide wholeheartedly that children were not something you saw for yourself, I would not be disappointed.”

“I feel similarly. It’s not a dealbreaker for me either way, nor will it become one.”

And they resume their search for jobs, opening the laptop again. They find a posting at Princeton, this one more appropriate for Ben’s background. “How would you feel about New Jersey?” he says.

“Padma would be thrilled,” says Satine. “Isn’t she a Princeton alum?”

“She is indeed,” Ben confirms. “But I asked about your feelings, not Padma’s.”

“I don’t know much about it,” says Satine honestly. “Beyond that it’s not a long trip by train into the city. That could be nice, especially if we’d like to see a show at the Metropolitan Opera.”

“Or Broadway,” he suggests. “Moulin Rouge! is still playing, and the protagonist is named Satine.”

She quirks a brow. “How do you know so much about Broadway? Were you secretly a musical theater kid and never told me?”

He laughs. “I’m a bi cliché, I suppose,” says Ben, shrugging. “Musicals are fun,” he adds. “Romance, drama, intrigue, suspense - and dancing! What’s not to like?” He clears his throat. “Although maybe not Moulin Rouge!; it’s very Orpheus and Eurydice coded.”

Satine sighs. “Satine dies in the end, doesn’t she?”

Ben grimaces. “Perhaps we should avoid that particular show,” he admits.

“Let me guess. Her pain and eventual death further the character development of the male protagonist,” Satine quips, “and the plot was thus lauded as 'poignant' and 'innovative'?”

“You’re not wrong,” says Ben. “But the one thing they get very right is that her love interest adores his Satine.” He closes the laptop and sets it aside again. “Allow me to demonstrate?”

He pulls the sheets back, crawling between her legs, kissing her inner thighs.

She sighs like it’s a chore, but then cannot contain her laugh.

“Very well,” she says, and she can’t keep the smile out of her voice. “You’ve dug yourself quite deep, and I’m looking forward to seeing how you crawl your way out.”

“Challenge accepted,” Ben says with a grin, and then his lips are on her.

She arches into him.

---

Before June ends, they apply to the respective positions at Harvard and Princeton. The postings don’t close for several weeks still and are being reviewed on a rolling basis until that point, but it’s a relief to be planning, to have concrete steps to take.

Meanwhile, Ben takes the first steps to put their backup plan in motion.

“I think the most expedient way for me to obtain a resident permit would be to apply for an engagement visa,” he tells her one evening as they are preparing supper. Satine has graduated to being able to boil noodles without supervision, although his words distract her momentarily, and she lets the water bubble over onto the hot stove, and it hisses at her angrily.

Ben reaches over to turn the burner temperature down.

“Obviously, before I do that, we should have jobs lined up. And the thing about this particular visa is that we’d actually need to marry within six months of arriving there.” He holds her gaze. “So if you have any qualms about the actual tradition of marriage itself, now would be the time to voice them.”

Satine stirs the pasta noodles. “No qualms,” she whispers. “Not on my end, at least,” she adds, this time more sure.

He gives her a confused look. “Are you implying there would be qualms on my end?”

She sets down the pasta fork. “No,” she says immediately. “I mean. Yes?” She sighs. “It’s just - you’re ready to move across the world for someone who can’t even vocalize how she feels about you. You honestly don’t have qualms about that?”

Ben considers this. “No,” he says eventually. “There are many ways to communicate, and words are just one way to do so. You show me how you feel about me every day, in other ways. The rest…that I can wait for.”

She leans her shoulder against his, ducking her head to smile. Then she picks up the pasta fork again. “Good,” she says, beginning to stir. “Because the other day I saw a posting at the University of Oslo within their Department of Political Science. Starting in the spring, they need a lecturer for their Peace and Conflict Studies master’s program.”

He nudges her back. “You should apply. I’ll update my LinkedIn page and make some connections to look for remote work.”

“They have courses and programs in English at the University of Oslo, too, you know. So you could teach, if you want to.”

His eyes light up at this, and Satine smiles.

“Forever a teacher at heart,” she says.

“I’ll learn Norwegian, too,” he promises. “I happen to have a live-in tutor who I think could get me fluent in record time.”

She snickers. “What is it with you and sleeping with your language instructors?”

“Polyglots are intelligent, and intelligence is sexy,” says Ben.

Satine drops the fork, and it clatters on the stove. “You think I’m sexy?”

He rolls his eyes. “How have we not established this by now?” he says. “That insecurity complex of yours will just not be tamed.” So he pulls her against him, his hands on her ass. “Darling, you are the most gorgeous, intelligent, and - yes - sexy creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. You literally make me weak in the knees.”

Satine kisses his collarbone, mollified.

“I like when you call me ‘darling’,” she murmurs, turning back to the stove.

“Good to know, darling,” he breathes into her ear.

---

The next day, they sit side-by-side at the kitchen table, ready to submit their applications.

“On three,” Satine says.

“On three or right after?”

She looks at him, exasperated; he’s messing with her and wearing a shit-eating grin.

She hits submit without counting down.

“Hey!” he says, mock affronted, and then Satine reaches over to tap the mousepad of his laptop, also submitting his application. “And again - hey!”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and she considers the image they present: two PhDs, applying to jobs at Harvard and Princeton, while simultaneously appearing to the rest of the world like they are twelve years old. Ben seems to be thinking along the same lines because he bursts out laughing.

Satine mirrors him, doubling over as she snickers.

---

Ben ends up hearing back first.

Princeton wants to schedule a phone screen interview, which eventually takes place in mid-July. They go into campus that day so he can take the call from his office phone, and Satine tries not to listen in from her office next door.

She fails miserably.

Ben, of course, is a natural at the interview process. He’s charming and doesn’t have any problems conversing with someone he’s just met: he chats with the interviewer about the Premier League and what Arsenal’s chances are come the start of the season in August. And he’s practiced his responses to typical questions asked during such screenings, so he doesn’t use filler words as he searches for the next phrase.

In her office, Satine sets down her pen as he begins to answer the next question.

“Yes, absolutely. My family right now is my fiancée, and she’s excited about the possibility of moving there. The campus of course is beautiful, and she’s a fellow academic so she understands the appeal of me working at an Ivy.”

The interviewer must ask for more information because Ben gives a mini-elevator pitch of her work. Satine thinks her heart might explode at the pride in his voice.

“Potentially,” says Ben in response to another question. “She’s also on the job market right now, so we’re exploring options and seeing how everything shakes out.”

The call wraps up soon after that, and Ben immediately appears at her door. Satine looks up. “How do you think it went?” she asks, standing to give him a congratulatory hug.

“Mission accomplished in that they know you’ll be tagging along if I get the job. They requested your CV, but they sounded like they knew of you already.”

“I meant about you,” says Satine. “This was your interview, after all.”

Ben’s face heats, and he ducks his head. “I think it went well,” he admits.

Satine kisses his cheek. “Humble man. When do you hear back? About next steps?”

“A couple weeks. They have a lot of candidates to screen first. If I make it, it’ll be a remote panel interview, and then after that if my name is still in the mix, there will be a two-day campus visit.”

“They’ll call you,” Satine says. “Your interviewer was a fellow Gooner, for God’s sake. What a story that would be, if the Arsenal can help you land a job.”

Her email pings at that moment, and Satine leans over her desk to check if it’s important. At seeing the sender’s address, she moves around the desk to look at the screen properly, and she opens the email.

She looks up at Ben.

“They want to set up a screening call with me,” she says, hardly believing it, letting a smile cross her face. “At Harvard.”

---

The following week, it’s Satine’s turn to take the screening call. She and Ben return to campus, and she shuts the door to her office to make sure she’s not interrupted.

She’s no stranger to interviews, of course, and she’s prepared just as she has for her previous ones. Though this call is likely to be more on the business-y side of things, discussing items like benefits and salary expectations, Satine has prepared scenarios for every question they could possibly ask her.

They do end up asking about her salary expectations, and they also ask about her research and service. And when they ask if she has any questions for them, she’s prepared.

One of the questions she asks is to get the interviewer’s opinion on the strengths of the department. The interviewer gives a fairly standard reply about the quality of the campus, and Satine sees her chance.

“I’ve only ever heard great things,” she says, “and my partner and I are from the area, so we’ve heard a lot. We’re looking forward to the opportunity to potentially move back. Kind of like an academic homecoming.”

The interviewer is excited by this, so Satine gets to explain that she and Ben had gone to high school at Andover and that Ben is currently a professor at Georgetown. Her heart races as the interviewer seems genuinely interested in the courses he’s taught. And - sure enough - the Harvard interviewer asks if she can forward Ben’s CV.

Before the interview ends, Satine asks about next steps. Harvard, too, is in the early stages of screening applicants, and she won’t hear back about a potential second interview until August. But Satine can relax - she’s made it through the first hurdle, and she thinks it was good enough.

When Ben asks how it went, she tells him this, and he crosses his fingers, holding them up for her to see. “Sending good vibes out into the universe for us both,” he says.

She nods. “But in the meantime…wine?”

He agrees. “Definitely.”

---

The following week, they both get emails inviting them for a second interview.

Satine’s arrives first, but she’s meeting Breha for lunch and can’t tell Ben right away. So she excitedly shares the information with her friend instead, and Breha orders a decadent dessert for them to split to celebrate.

Breha laughs as they dig in. “So your backup plan for the NSF was Harvard?” she asks. “I don’t know if that’s brave or foolish. Both, maybe?”

“Try ‘calculated’,” says Satine, and she finally moves her left hand into view so that Breha can see.

Breha’s jaw drops. “Oh my god,” she says. “Oh my god, Satine!” And she pulls Satine’s hand toward her to better view the ring. “I need to hear everything. How did he propose?”

“Actually, I did,” Satine says. “But he had the ring with him when I asked him, so it was kind of a mutual thing.”

“It’s gorgeous,” says Breha. “He has very good taste. I mean,” she adds, gesturing at Satine. “Obviously he does. But look at you! Actually living outside of your work for once! I’m so happy for you, truly.”

“I’ll take the compliment, however backhanded it was.”

Breha rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. I feel like I’m obligated, as your friend, to say that you seem to be moving a little fast - but honestly, fuck that. You dated this guy for two years in high school, right? So it’s not like you don’t know him.”

Satine nods. “We dated for two years and were close friends a year before that, and we were in the same social circles a year before that,” she confirms. “So I know him. And he hasn’t changed. Not in any way that matters, that is.”

“So if you get the job at Harvard, is he coming with? Like spousal arm candy?”

Satine cackles at this image. “Ben would actually think that’s fucking hilarious. But, yes, that’s the goal. He’s actually hoping to hear back about a similar interview at Princeton soon, so God willing one of us will get an offer that’s open to bringing on a plus one.”

“If your department at Georgetown got their heads out of their asses, they’d just hire you on full-time,” says Breha. “But they really haven’t given you any indication that they will? Even after you booked that major keynote address?”

Satine sighs. “Nothing solid enough to bank on,” she admits. “So Ben and I have backup plans. And backup plans for those plans.”

Breha takes another bite of the dessert. “Well, wherever you end up, I’ll come visit. I’ve got to make sure Baby Organa is cultured and well-traveled. Obviously.”

Satine grins. “Is the morning sickness any better?”

“Not at all.” Breha makes a face. “I’m so ready to be done with the first trimester.”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard the swollen ankles are a big improvement over the morning sickness,” Satine says in mock seriousness.

“Don’t remind me. But I shouldn’t complain. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“You can still complain,” says Satine with a smirk, and they both laugh.

---

When Satine arrives home, she shares the news with Ben. He kisses her fiercely in congratulations, and she fills him in on the details of the interview set for next week.

“Oh,” she adds. “I told Breha about our engagement, which means that Bail likely knows by now. And if Bail knows, then Padma does, so you should expect - ”

Ben’s phone lights up, signaling an incoming call.

“ - a call from Anakin,” finishes Satine.

Ben cracks a smile at this. “Should we bet on if he’ll be upset that I didn’t tell him right away, or will he offer to throw us a party?”

“I’d put money on the latter. But pick up the phone, Ben.”

As it turns out, Satine is half-right: Anakin is initially shocked that they’d let a month pass without looping him in, but he mentions in the next sentence that he and Padma are already planning a celebration for them. Ben smiles as he ends the call, but before he can put his phone away, it chimes, signaling an incoming email. He looks up at Satine.

“We’ve got a lot to celebrate, it seems.” And he shows her the email.

He, too, has been invited for a second interview.

---

Both virtual panel interviews are scheduled for the first week in August, Ben’s a day before Satine’s.

They practice scenario-based questions on the Metro and then bus ride into campus: Describe a time you made a mistake and how you handled it. Tell us about a time when your work priorities changed unexpectedly and you had to pivot. How have you handled disagreements with colleagues in the past?

As he answers, Satine files these pieces of information away. Each piece is a data point of the years she’d missed, a key to understanding the journey he’d undertaken the days they’d been apart.

She doesn’t have pointers or advice; he’s clearly rehearsed these responses before. He knows what he is doing.

When they arrive on campus, Satine kisses his jaw and wishes him luck. He squeezes her hand, and they go into their respective offices.

---

The next day, Satine thanks the Harvard interviewing panel and exits the videoconferencing software, leaning back in her chair and letting out a deep sigh.

Ben peaks his head into his office, and she smiles at him, inviting him inside wordlessly.

“Sounds like it went well,” he hedges, sitting in the chair in front of her desk.

“As you no doubt heard, I suspect they have their concerns about why I wanted to leave government to transition to academia.”

“You handled that question well,” Ben says. “And, honestly, given the way that the American federal government has behaved itself the past decade or so, I don’t think they'll blame anyone for wanting to leave federal employment.”

“Fair point,” Satine acknowledges.

“So you’ll hear back next week about an on campus interview?”

She nods. “They’re narrowing it down to three candidates for campus visits. Let’s just hope they’re not planning an internal hire, meaning all this is just for show.”

“Every job candidate’s worst nightmare,” agrees Ben. He stands and extends a hand. “Come on,” he says. “The surprise engagement party that Anakin and Padma are throwing us awaits.”

---

Satine is normally wary of parties: she doesn’t like small talk or loud noises or being crowded. But their engagement party is none of these things.

Padma and Anakin live a few blocks away from Breha and Bail in the Embassy Row neighborhood. Though Satine still feels a little out of place approaching the affluent neighborhood, it doesn’t make her as uncomfortable as it had the last time.

Maybe she’s run out of fucks to give.

Less pessimistically, she realizes it likely has more to do with the camaraderie she knows is waiting for her within the townhouse. Yes, she’s always been close with Breha, but now she has a community - Bail and Breha and Padma and Anakin and Quinlan and Asajj - rather than just a sister.

Her heart twists at the thought of potentially being forced to leave this all behind.

She supposes she once had a community, back in Bosnia - but she can’t remember any of it. And life in Norway was really all about survival. Satine loves her adoptive parents, but she hasn’t been close with them in years. And she’d moved around so much after high school, first to California and then to Oxford and then to Chicago before DC, that she never had a chance to put down roots.

Of course the moment those roots would begin to grow would be the moment she’s forced to contend with pulling them up.

But she pushes this thought out of her mind as Anakin opens the door and sweeps her and Ben into a big hug, practically pulling them across the threshold. He’s chattering so quickly Satine can hardly follow - “Breha and Bail are here, but Ventress and Vos couldn't make it; hard to fly back from fieldwork in the middle of the summer” - and she and Ben exchange an amused glance. Anakin leads them into the kitchen, where their friends are waiting amongst balloons and other bright decorations. Someone places a rhinestone tiara on her head, and Anakin and Bail set off confetti cannons.

One of these detonates directly over Satine and Ben, showering them in glitter.

“It’s a good look on you, O.B.!” says Anakin. Ben sighs, resigned, but he leaves the glitter in his hair, and Satine can’t help but smile whenever she catches a glimpse of it.

After getting hugs and congratulations from everyone, Satine makes her way over to Breha and Padma, who are comparing notes on their pregnancy experiences so far.

“Gingivitis,” says Padma. “I did not expect gingivitis!”

Breha nods. “They really don’t prepare us well enough with what will happen to the body. My face has started to freckle, and it's not like I've been out in the sun much this summer. Apparently that’s also a thing that happens with pregnancy? It’s called melasma, I guess. Pregnancy mask.”

Satine doesn’t miss a beat. “Some people lose teeth while pregnant,” she says nonchalantly.

Breha gapes at her.

“I majored in anthropology in undergrad. I had to take human osteology.” Satine shrugs.

“Ah,” says Padma, hands resting over her swollen abdomen. “So I have to ask: why would pregnancy result in losing teeth?”

“Well, it ideally shouldn’t,” says Satine. “But the growing fetus needs calcium. And bones are a source of calcium, so the fetus will get the calcium from your bones if you don’t have enough in your diet. If the bone resorption happens in the jaw, you can lose a tooth. Or several.”

“Yikes,” says Breha. “Good incentive to make sure I actually take those prenatal multivitamins, I guess.”

"Agreed. My due date cannot come soon enough."

Satine grins. "Next month, right?"

Padma smiles back. "Thank goodness," she confirms with a nod.

Then Padma leans closer.

“So why human osteology?” she asks Satine. “I can’t imagine that was a required course for anthropology majors.”

Satine laughs. “It wasn’t. At the time, I wanted to be a forensic anthropologist. I ended up choosing something far less morbid.”

Breha snorts into her soda. Padma’s laugh is more proper, but just as genuine.

---

The following week, Satine receives an invitation to interview in person at Harvard.

The week after, Ben gets a similar notice to interview at Princeton.

They compare the available dates from which to choose.

“Since they aren’t covering travel for the spouse,” says Ben, “we may as well pick the same weekend. Minimize our days apart.”

Satine nudges him with her elbow. “Why, Ben Kenobi - if you keep up that kind of talk, people might actually think you like me or something.”

“Satine, we’re engaged.”

They get distracted for quite some time after that.

Later, each of them wearing significantly fewer articles of clothing than they had been before, they decide to schedule their interviews for the first Thursday and Friday in September.

Satine closes her laptop, feeling nervous.

“We’re going to be fine,” Ben says, and Satine nods, believing him.

He pulls her close.

---

The semester begins at the end of August, and Georgetown's campus returns to a hive of activity.

Asajj and Quinlan return from fieldwork, and both immediately admire the ring that Ben picked out for Satine - Quinlan even more so than Asajj, which amuses Satine greatly.

That Friday, the junior faculty - including Anakin, who is starting the second year of his postdoc - go out for drinks. Anakin doesn't stay late, as Padma's due date is approaching and he doesn't want to be away from her for long in the case she goes into early labor, which - according to him - is common when carrying twins.

Later, after switching from the bus to the Metro, Satine leans her head against Ben's shoulder as they make their way home to Old Town.

---

“How did it go?”

Satine collapses on the bed in her hotel room, still fully clothed in her pantsuit and heels, phone to her ear.

“Ben, they literally scheduled my visits to the washroom. That’s how packed the itinerary was.”

“I’m sure you stunned them regardless of how tired you feel.”

“And tomorrow morning is the job talk, so even more to look forward to.” She rolls over onto her stomach. “How was your day?”

Ben considers this. “Probably about the same as yours, I’d imagine,” he eventually says. “No red flags. I suspect some typical department politics but nothing glaring. I’m sure the faculty were mostly on their best behavior today, but they did indeed behave themselves.”

“That’s better than what I got. One of the tenured faculty I had a one-on-one with tried to explain a recent book he’d read to me. He got it wrong, and he dug his heels in. I knew, of course, that he was wrong because I wrote the book he was talking about.”

She has to hold the phone away from her ear at the strength of his laughter. When he pulls himself together, he asks, “Did you tell him that?"

"Better to wait until after I get the job offer," she says, and Ben just laughs harder.

When his laughter subsides, he asks, "But beyond that? How was it?”

“The usual. Meeting after meeting with various different faculty. I’d done my prep, so I could talk about their work. As you know, every academic loves to talk about their own research, so I’m sure I’ll get glowing reviews from all of them.”

“That’s my girl.”

Satine smiles. “I actually liked meeting with the students most,” she admits. “They set aside an hour for upper-level students to ask me questions. Seems like they get to weigh in on the ultimate hiring decision. They were far more interesting than the faculty.” She breathes in. “It actually gives me a little bit of hope,” she admits. “Hearing about their ideas and what they want to do after graduation. I think I needed that.”

“You claim not to enjoy teaching all that much, my dear, but I’d argue you were born for it.”

“You may be more right than I’d care to admit. I connected with some of the students on LinkedIn in case they ever needed advice. I don’t usually do that, and it wasn’t just because I wanted to be in their good graces.”

“I’m proud of you,” says Ben. “I know you did a wonderful job, and I’m sure tomorrow will go just as well.” He pauses. “Did they take you someplace fancy for dinner tonight?”

“The faculty club on campus for lunch, and then, yes, someplace I’ve already forgotten the name of for supper. Thank goodness they had vegetarian options.”

“Princeton gave me lunch at the faculty club, too! The faculty who ate with me from the department pointed out this ancient fellow from the chemistry department who apparently eats there every day. Can you imagine?”

Satine rolls her eyes. “He’ll die alone in that ivory tower of his.” Then she becomes more serious. “The department chair asked about you, you know,” she says. “It was clear they’d looked at your CV. They mentioned a few classes that they thought you might be interested in teaching.”

“Sounds promising. And the entire search committee here knows of you. It feels a bit like I’m marrying into academic royalty, the way they talked about you.”

“You’re being hyperbolic.”

“Not at all,” he assures her. "I also, conveniently, received an email from Serenno today describing the raise that will go into effect for my salary starting next term. I checked discretely with some other faculty in the department, and they didn't get a similar email."

Satine understands. "So he's aware you're interviewing, and he wants you to stay."

"It's a step in the right direction," says Ben. "But it means nothing if they're not willing to bring you aboard." He’s silent for a bit before he speaks again. “I’ll let you go so you can rest. Call and leave a voicemail as soon as you’re finished and on your way tomorrow. I might still be in meetings, but I want to know as soon as you’re done.”

The light in the hotel room catches Satine’s ring. “I miss you,” she murmurs.

“I’ll see you late tomorrow evening. I promise.”

“And I’ll hold you to it.”

She can hear his smile in his response. “You better.”

---

Satine has already given a version of this job talk before, back when she was interviewing at Georgetown and elsewhere, so it’s easy and natural to step into the role of lecturer again. She may not love teaching, but she’s damn good at it.

There’s an incredibly good turnout for her job talk, and that, strangely, gives her more confidence rather than less. It means the department advertised the talk - and it means that students are interested enough to take time out of their schedules to attend. Satine won’t make them regret it.

Satine is thrilled to get multiple questions during the talk itself, and several hands immediately fly up as she concludes her presentation. She calls on the first student, buoyed by their interest and the fact that the difficult part of the talk is over.

The student asks an astute question about navigating the field of genocide studies given current global events. It’s an intentionally loaded question, though Satine is sure the student doesn’t know exactly how loaded it is for Satine specifically.

She ponders how to answer for a few seconds before giving a nuanced reply. “I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear,” she adds. “I also know that probably brings up more questions than it really answers. But maybe it’ll be your job to answer those questions someday.”

The student beams at her.

And Satine begins to think that maybe - just maybe - she will be able to put down roots here, too.

#satine kryze #obi-wan kenobi #star wars fanfic #obitine #the clone wars #alternate universe #ptsd

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e-dubbc11 · 11 months ago

Note

Happy Winter Sleepover! ❄️

“Out of Left Field” universe reader takes Billy on a date, or tries to make good Christmas memories for Billy maybe.

My lovely friend ♥️

It makes me smile knowing how much you enjoy this little universe. I hope you enjoy what I did here and thank you SO much for sending in as many asks as you did. I appreciate you ♥️

The Perfect Pitch

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Fluffy bunnies and unicorns, a swear word or two(I think)

Word Count: 1.9K-ish

Summary: Billy tells you a secret. You plan a date and a surprise to try and give him a happy holiday memory

A/N: Part of the Out of Left Field universe. I’ll link parts one and two under the author’s note

PART 1

PART 2

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“But he said he doesn’t really like Christmas, Jackie.” You said with a slight frown on your face.

Jackie had a tough day at work so she needed a drink and some girl time.

You explained to her that Billy grew up in a group home until he aged out and joined the marines. He doesn’t have a lot of fond memories of that place and definitely doesn’t have any fond Christmas memories.

“Well maybe you can give him one.” She said with a warm smile, taking a sip of her drink. “He loves you and he would love anything you did for him. Shit, he DOES love everything you do for him!” She exclaimed.

At first, Billy didn’t exactly know how to react to someone doing something nice for him. It had been six months since your first date and you did little things for Billy to make sure he knew how much you meant to him which he loved.

“Oh like the first time I brought him coffee at his office?” You said, cracking a smile. “Ya know he fired that guy that wouldn’t tell me where his office was when I walked in?”

“Of course he did! See, he REALLY loves you!” She said.

It was mundane things like bringing him coffee or leaving little notes in his jacket pocket, “I love you, handsome,” that made him soft for you.

You would have to do some serious thinking but you were going to try and give Billy Russo at least ONE happy Christmas memory.

**********

Enjoying an after dinner bourbon with Billy was very relaxing and romantic especially back at his penthouse where you could be alone and it’s quiet. On a clear chilly evening, the city lights outside dimly lit up the inside of the living room while you sat and talked with him.

It had taken some time but he opened up a little more to you, as long as you didn’t push too hard, he was willing to share.

With your legs draped over his lap, you took a sip of your drink and continued to lightly scratch his scalp with your nails. He loved it; he told you it helped him relax.

“That feels nice, sweet girl.” He hummed as a wide smile stretched across his lips. “How was your day, baby?” He asked.

“Walked past Rockefeller Center today. They were starting to put up the Christmas tree.” You said.

Billy looked at you with a slight smile.

“Can I tell you a secret, my love?” He asked.

You set your drink down on the coffee table with excitement because Billy wanted to share a secret with you. Sitting up on your knees and resting your elbow on top of the couch, you smiled and replied, “Of course you can, handsome. Tell me!”

Billy glanced down at the dark amber liquid in his glass for another minute before turning his head to look at you again. The little lines around his dark chocolate eyes crinkled when he flashed a childlike smile at you.

“I know I told you I’m not a big fan of Christmas but…I do really love Christmas lights. I’ve lived in New York my entire life and I’ve never seen them light that tree.” He said, tilting the glass back and forth.

Slowly, you inched your face closer to his, cupped his cheek and brushed his beard with your thumb. You gave him a warm smile before your lips captured his in a tender kiss.

You whispered against his lips. “Well maybe we can remedy that, baby.”

**********

You didn’t like to ask for favors, you loathed it actually but you were very close to your uncle who was the manager of the 620 Loft & Garden on 5th Avenue. You asked him if there was any way that you and Billy could watch the tree lighting from the rooftop…alone.

He pulled some strings and made sure the two of you would be alone when they lit the tree. He said you probably wouldn’t be able to stay up there long after they light it but he’d definitely make it happen.

“Thank you SO much Uncle Mark! I just can’t wait to see the look on his face.” You said excitedly and hugging him tightly.

“He must be very special for you to do this for him, y/n.” He said, squeezing you back.

Tears stung the back of your eyes before you replied, “He is…Billy deserves it. He does so many thoughtful things for me, I just wanted to show him that kind of love in return.”

Billy had no idea what day or what time they actually lit the Rockefeller Christmas tree so this was going to be a complete surprise for him. He just assumed you wanted to take him out for a burger and a beer after work that following Wednesday.

You had your evening planned right down to the minute they lit up that tree. Thankfully it wouldn’t be too cold that night; it’s a lot easier to stand outside on the roof of a tall building when it’s not freezing cold.

Bill’s Bar & Burger was the restaurant underneath the 620 Loft & Garden. Your reservation was for around 8 and they lit the tree around 10. The butterflies in your stomach felt like they were fighting to get out because you were so excited to do this for him.

Patiently, you waited for him to pick you up. He always insisted on coming up to your apartment to get you. Billy texted to say that he was going home to change first and then he would be over to pick you up around 7.

Billy had a long day, you could tell he was tired and he was hinting that he just wanted to get something to eat quickly and go home so you had to figure out a way to get him to stay out until the tree lighting.

He smiled his way through dinner as you told him all about your day and he told you about his which was filled with meetings and training. Your day wasn’t nearly as busy as his but he had a lot of responsibility, you could understand why he was tired at the end of the day.

You had to think fast because Billy just wanted to go home with you after eating.

“My uncle is the manager of the rooftop venue of this building. He said we could check it out after dinner, bring our drinks…that sorta thing. They decorate for the holidays and he always sends me pictures but I’ve never seen it for myself.” You said.

With a tired smile, Billy said, “Sure beautiful, we can check it out. Better than bein’ out on the street right now. Why are there so many people out there anyway?” He asked, his slight New York accent pushing through a little harder. That happened sometimes when he was tired, you thought it was sexy.

You knew exactly why there were so many people outside but you just shrugged and acted like you had no idea why.

It was around 9:30 when the two of you took your drinks and made your way up to the roof. Walking around, the perfectly shaped shrubs were tastefully decorated with white lights and red ribbons.

You wanted to take a picture of Billy’s face and childlike smile when he stepped out onto that rooftop but you still had about 20 minutes before the tree was going to be lit and there was only so much stalling you could do.

“It’s nice up here, baby.” Said Billy looking around at the lights.

He didn’t look over the edge to where you could see Rockefeller center and the tree.

“It is really pretty.” You replied.

He took the final sip of his beer and said, “So, ya ready to go? It’s nice up here but it’s a little cold, my love.”

Shit.

You were out of stalling tactics; you didn’t know how else to keep him busy for a few more minutes.

Thinking fast, you said, “Well come here handsome, let me see if I can warm you up a little.”

You snaked your arms around his neck as you looked into his endless brown eyes that were shining against the bright white lights. Billy wrapped his long arms around your waist and pulled you flush to his body as his lips crushed against yours.

They were chilled and a little dry but you definitely welcomed his kiss and kept kissing him, parting your lips slightly as his tongue pressed against your teeth, desperately wanting to entwine with yours.

After taking a couple of pictures, Billy had nice long arms that were perfect for taking selfies, you had to go one floor down and out onto the deck to get the perfect view of the tree. Pulling him down the stairs, you opened one of the corner doors and stepped outside once again.

“Sweet girl, I thought we were done. I’m ready to—What’s all that noise?” He asked looking over your shoulder at all the people that were standing around the Rockefeller skating rink.

You heard people counting down.

“3-2-1!!!”

After hearing the number one, the Rockefeller tree came to life and you watched the color lights reflect against his eyes, taking him completely by surprise. A genuine smile stretched across his lips as he gazed at the tree and then over to you.

“You’re not the only one full of suprises, Mr. Russo.” You said, returning the smile and kissing his cheek. “I thought, well anyone can watch the tree lighting from the ground but how can I make it extra special?”

Billy didn’t know what to say so he just kissed the top of your head.

“You planned all of this for me, baby?” Asked Billy.

He still looked like he was processing what just happened.

“I may not be able to arrange a private tour of Yankee Stadium but I wanted to do something special for you, Billy.” You said. “I know you don’t exactly have any good memories from this time of year but I thought maybe I could give you at least one because…you deserve it, baby.”

Billy’s only real experiences with relationships were physical and meaningless. Women used him for his looks and his money. He came from nothing and whatever he had now, he worked his ass off to be able to get but receiving gifts from others was something that eluded him.

It really was the little things like tonight that made him fall for you even harder. Burgers, beer, and Christmas lights may not seem like a lot to some people but that small gesture was everything to Billy.

“I’m not sure I deserve you, sweet girl.” He said, lightly brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “This will definitely be a good memory along with the others I’ve already made with you. I—I love you, y/n. It even says so in your pocket.”

Billy gave you a wink and waited for you to reach into your jacket pocket. He liked to put little notes in your pocket too but they were always cheesy one liners or pick-up lines. You unfolded the piece of paper that was in your pocket and it said: “You really are a homerun, baby. I love you.”

“You’re quite the catch yourself, handsome.” You said, winking in return. “I love you too, Billy.”

He pulled you in close; sharing the same air, he cupped your flushed cheeks and kissed you again. His mouth split into a sly smile as he purred in your ear.

“So…are we going to your dugout or mine?”

After you struggled to hit life’s curveballs, you both had finally connected on your perfect pitch.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @ittybxttykxttytxtty

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n #winter sleepover 2024 #ericca answers

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yarameijer · 11 months ago

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What do you think is Tenma's and others' favourite food and drink?

Ooh, favorite foods! Okay so please bear with me, I’m not familiar with Japanese cuisine but I’ll give it a shot!

First, the first-years! Tsurugi has a sweet tooth, but he wouldn’t admit it even on pain of death and only Yuuichi knows because Tsurugi believes it’d take away from his reputation otherwise. He loves rice cakes, especially with fillings. He’s also a fan of dried beans covered with sugar.

Hikaru is also a major fan of sweets and is willing to try whatever's offered to him, but his absolute favorite is coffee jelly. He can sometimes be bribed with sweets if necessary. To finish up the sweet tooth trio, Aoi loves any type of cake, although she prefers milder tastes instead of super sweet. She and Hikaru go out to cafes to try out their menu and manage to drag Tsurugi along eventually, although he’ll pretend to come along just to humor them. These three are also the biggest fans of going to Tenma’s place, because Aki usually has some homemade baking ready.

Shinsuke really likes onigiri, it’s simple yet tasty, and easy to share with friends. No need for any fancy dishes for him! He’s also a fan of sweets, although not as bad as the three mentioned above, and he likes fruit-flavored soy milk.

Kariya likes takoyaki the most! It’s pretty easy to get, so he likes treating himself to it if he’s done well on a test or something, or if he’s just in the mood. Since he lives in an orphanage, food options are dependent on whatever gets prepared there, so while the food is good he doesn’t really have any input in dinner. Makes it extra nice to get takoyaki as a snack for himself!

If asked, Tenma’s favorite food is whatever Aki prepares because her cooking is amazing, but his favorite dish would be gōyā chanpurū, Okinawan stir fry. He’s loved it since he was young, and now that he lives in Tokyo, it reminds him of home. He also enjoys sweet snacks, particularly mitarashi dango and sata andagi (which is also from Okinawa, and he loves it for similar reasons).

Onto the second-years! Hamano loves sashimi (raw fish), but he doesn’t really have a preference for a specific type. He also likes taiyaki, fish-shaped cakes, not only because of the taste but also because they’re, well, in the shape of a fish. He and Hayami often get some if they're hanging out after school, most often with red bean paste or custard filling. Although Hayami likes taiyaki too, he prefers gyõza (Japanese dumplings). He’s also a pretty big tea fan, especially green tea, which he has in common with Shindou.

Speaking of - everyone knows Shindou is a rich kid. Influential, loaded family that goes to operas and pays for private tutoring outside of school and eats at a five star restaurant every other month. And yet, ironically, his absolute favorite food turns out to be homemade ramen from Rairaiken (after his friends have introduced him to it, of course). He likes to experiment with toppings and is delighted whenever he finds a new combination he enjoys.

Kirino’s favorite food is sushi, also because there’s such a wide variety of it, and he can pick whatever he feels like at that moment. Luckily for him, he’s best friends with rich kid Shindou, and whenever they hang out at his manor, the staff knows to prepare sushi. Kirino takes full advantage of this and claims it’s payment for dealing with Shindou’s soccer strategy ramblings. Just like Shindou and Hayami, he likes green tea, but he prefers royal milk tea.

Nishiki picked up a love for Italian cuisine during his time abroad. He loves ravioli (stuffed pasta) and he’s got a preference for ciabatta bread. He’s lucky enough not to be lactose intolerant like many other Japanese people, and he absolutely LOVED spending time in a country with countless cheese options, in which Japan is, unsurprisingly, lacking. He’s cooked for his friends a few times and it was a pretty big success.

Midori and Kurama, surprisingly enough, share their favorite food: kushiyaki, skewered and grilled foods. Midori loves grilled pork skewers, whereas Kurama’s favorite are grilled vegetable skewers. Midori likes other types as well, but Kurama’s a picky eater so he'll stick to his vegetables, thank you very much.

Akane can usually be found with various types of bread in her bento, the specific kind switching every day. It’s her favorite snack and she usually brings some to eat during afternoon practice. Her favorites are melonpan and anpan (filled with red bean paste). She brings enough for the entire team as a treat if they’ve won a particularly hard match. She also really loves bubble tea (her favorite is honeydew milk tea), and often drags Aoi and Midori along. Aoi’s favorite is matcha milk tea, and Midori’s is black milk tea.

Aoyama, as mentioned in the AR one-shot collection, is obsessed with noodles. His favorite is kitsune udon, but he likes switching it up so he also orders other dishes quite regularly. Ichino also appreciates udon and other noodle foods (he doesn’t really have a choice, being best friends with Aoyama), and he’s also a big fan of shaved ice.

Finally the third-years! They’ve actually got a pretty big thing in common there: they all prefer the company over the food, really. Sangoku, for example, doesn’t really have a favorite food. He loves cooking, and cooking for others, and he’s a fan of trying out new recipes, although he favors traditional Japanese meals. He originally taught himself how to cook because his mother is usually busy with work, but discovered a love for it and he likes seeing his friends enjoy his food. He does really enjoy a good cup of green tea, though, like Shindou and Hayami.

Next, Kurumada! If asked, he claims he likes going to yakiniku (grilled meat) restaurants with his friends most. He thinks it’s tasty, and he likes having multiple options for food and being able to just get whatever he’s in the mood for at the time. It’s only made better by the company, although inviting his team along has been known to end in chaos.

Amagi’s favorite food is katsudon, which he has in common with Mahoro. When they were kids, he, Mahoro and their childhood friend Kousaka Yukie would eat it as often as their parents would allow - that’s where his love for shared meals began, because it’s much more fun to eat together than alone.

…I may have gone a bit overboard with this. Whoops?

Hope you enjoyed!

#inazuma eleven #inazuma eleven go #ie11 #ina11 #ie go #fanfic #matsukaze tenma #tsurugi kyousuke #shindou takuto #raimon #accidental reverse #kirino ranmaru #sangoku taichi #nishizono shinsuke

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alexanderlightweight · 2 years ago

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Can I ask for more shadow heir alec? I like the idea of baby shadow alec meeting and charming downworlders, after raphael who would be next? I just had the thought of pretty much everyone knowing him but magnus because reasons until they meet at ragnor's

here we go!! i hope you enjoy

early part in the star eater verse

lumine

“So this is your friend.” Cat says and her smile is warm and welcoming as she looks at Alec.

Alec is watching her curiously, with the same wary edge he greets everyone but Ragnor has already warned her that he’s like this with everyone. Honestly, it’s only because of how much Alec respects and — hopefully trusts — Ragnor that he accepted to be secretly portaled out of the Institute.

It’s only because Alec keeps a great many secrets from his mother that Ragnor risked this, that he’s risking Cat as well.

“Hello Healer Loss.” Alec says politely, a little nod that’s respectful but doesn’t risk him putting himself in a more vulnerable position. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Catarina blinks down at him and then she nods, her own little head tilt that Alec smiles shyly at. It’s clear he’s pleased by the fact that she understands and well, Ragnor prefers to keep others away from Alec’s actual body.

His shadows don’t take lightly to others infringing on Alec’s personal space and well, Ragnor doesn’t blame them in the slightest.

“There will be times when you’ll be called to the Institute in the future.” Ragnor starts carefully, “I know you are aware that I was called in to oversee the contract between a healer and the Institute. They don’t know our connection and Alec understands he has to pretend you’ve never met, but I feel better with everyone meeting before anything like that happens.”

Because as soon as Ragnor realized the warlock Maryse had picked was Cat, he knew he had to do something. Anything to mitigize the risk that would be working on Alec if he needed medical aid. If it was another warlock, Ragnor wouldn’t have bothered but he will do anything for Cat, which includes what would be considered the breach of an Institute’s wards and the kidnapping of one of their most reverred heir.

It’s Ragnor’s hope that meeting first in safety, will ensure Cat’s own safety if she has to work with an Alec who unconscious or out of it from pain or deliruim.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Alec Trueblood?” Cat asks, as if checking even though she’s never forgotten a patient’s name in her life and as of today, she considers Alec a patient.

“It’s just Alec.” He gives a little shrug and his shadow pools and Ragnor notices how Cat’s eyes widen and then narrow slightly in academic concentration. “Trueblood is for shadowhunters when they’re being stupid.”

Ragnor turns his head and coughs, because when he’d allowed Alec to call him Ragnor, he’d had to explain to the lad why everyone else they interacted with had to call him Fell or Potion Master Fell.”

Ragnor is fairly certain he’s managed to explain without too much of a problem, but the resulting issue is that Alec doesn’t understand why nephilim hate downworlders and therefore, thinks most of them are entirely insensible and stupid.

In his very young and very sensible opinion — at least Ragnor thinks it’s sensible — it doesn’t make sense to pick a fight with people who don’t need to be enemies. All that causes is more enemies, and Alec feels like they have enough of those with just demons.

Also, according to Alec, he met a very pretty vampire who was probably very old but looked very young and Alec felt that the clave was probably jealous. Especially since most of the nephilim didn’t live long enough to look old.

From the mouth of babes, Ragnor thinks to himself as he watches Cat and Alec cautiously intereact.

She’s doing just as well as Ragnor thought she would. Treating him like not-quite feral cat, but something close to that and it’s with an internal sigh of relief, that Ragnor watches them touch hands.

Cat’s magic pools a lovely sunset pink in her palm and Alec very carefully, sets his tiny hang in her palm, small fingers wreathed with dark tendrils. The shadows seem to vibrate for a moment, Cat’s magic sparking and then it all settles and they both retreat.

Cat with an intrigued look and Alec with a thoughtful one.

“As lovely as this has been, and it has been lovely.” The best Ragnor had hoped for, “I must be getting this lad back to his room to actually finish our tutoring.”

They say their goodbyes and when Ragnor has Alec back in the Institute, practicing on the range and motions of his shadows, he checks his phone and smiles at the text Cat has sent. It appears, that Alec will have someone in New York looking out for him, even when Ragnor is across the pond.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #star eater #ragnor fell #alec lightwood #catarina loss #shadowhunters #malec

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sparklecryptid · 2 years ago

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More then that, you owe us an *implausible fix-it ending*

That I can do!

Ace did not plan on dying this way. He especially did not plan on having to listen to his grandfather rant about how Regis is a failure of a father while being unable to say anything in his blood fathers defence.

Said father did kill him after all, it’s hard to say something kind when it hasn’t been even a day since he’s been killed.

“-I raised a complete imbecile! I sorely hope the Accursed teaches him a lesson!” Mors rants as Ace nods and absentmindedly wonders if Ramuh is going to be pissed about this.

Ace is Galahdian after all, more than that he has a convent with Ramuh. He is decidedly not supposed to be in the Ring with his forefathers.

But he is which means someone has to answer for sending Ace into the Worst Family Reunion ever.

“The Accursed also plans on turning our kingdom into a ruin,” Somnus’ spirit points out.

“Yes, well maybe if you hadn’t been such a bastard he wouldn’t have such a grudge against us,” The Rogue’s voice is polite and beside her the Clever snickers.

“She has a point,” The Clever says just as their surroundings turn a vibrant purple.

Everyone turns to look at Ace who smiles.

“I’ve had a horrible time,” Ace begins, “And I never want to see any of you ever again so I’m going to be leaving.”

Lightning strikes, thunder rolls across the space like an earthquake.

The Clever laughs.

Ace disappears.

So waking up in a morgue in the clothes he died in is not where Ace expected to wind up. But Ramuh has apparently decided Ace has to go and stop his fathers from attempting to murder each other and shoved his soul back into his body.

Fantastic.

Ace grimaces at the dried blood that trails down the front of his shirt and shoves himself off the - hm - is this an autopsy table or just storage? Ace spends a moment wondering about it before he decides it doesn’t matter and begins to drag himself through the Citadel.

Which is predictably in chaos.

Which means that he runs into Luche and a bunch of other Glaives he knows before he even gets to the fucking throne room.

Luche stares at Ace with a complicated expression on his face as Ace uses the wall to help himself stand.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Luche finally asks as Sonitus finally realizes Ace is there and does a double take.

“What the fuck happened?” Sonitus says and automatically moves to help Ace stand. Ace appreciates it and makes a note to bake Sonitus so many cookies if they all survive this.

“My dad killed me,” Ace says blandly, “And now my uncle is trying to kill my dad for killing me. Don’t ask how I came back. Ramuh pulled some bullshit God Move. Point is that I need to go stop my uncle from killing the king and turning this kingdom into a fucking ruin.”

“You said it was your father that killed you. Your father is the fucking king?”

“Yes. Did I not make that clear?”

“You did not!” Luche sounds like he’s about to set everything in a three mile radius on fire. Ace does not blame him.

Then Luche sighs and stares at Sonitus. “Get him to the throne room and for Ramuh’s sake do NOT let Nyx or Libertus see you.”

Sonitus smiles.

It is not a nice smile.

“You’re not allowed to commit regicide,” Ace says and turns his gaze to Luche, “Neither are you.”

“We will talk about it later,” Luche says and Ace doesn’t get another word in before Sonitus is picking Ace up and hauling him away.

“Uncle you asshole,” Ace calls from his spot in Sonitus’ arms as the doors to the throne room open easily under the pressure of Ace’s magic.

Sonitus walks in with Ace still in his arms and Ace is treated to the shitty sight of Noctis attempting to gouge out Ardyn’s throat while Clarus and Regis are heaving on the ground.

Ace debates setting his brother on fire. He doesn’t because it Regis went after Ardyn the way Ardyn assuredly went after Regis Ace would also attempt to rip out Regis’ throat.

Ah, family.

“Your family is fucked up,” Sonitus says and everyone’s gaze turns to the two of them.

Ardyn shoves Noctis into a wall and is hovering over Ace in moments.

Sonitus grins at Ardyn - all sharp teeth and silent threat.

“Careful,” he says, “Sparky here just woke up.”

“Fuck you,” Ace hisses and makes an effort to wiggle out of Sonitus arms. It does not work. Sonitus merely tightens his grip on Ace.

Ace stops wiggling.

“At least pass me to him dumbass.”

“Will he hurt you?”

“He’s the one attempting to destroy a kingdom for me so no Sonitus I don’t think he will.”

Ace is handed over to Ardyn who handles Ace like he is a particularly heavy but fragile piece of glass.

“You’re alive.” A statement uttered in disbelief. “You’re alive.” Said again more fiercely with an undercurrent of desperation.

“Yes, Ramuh got pissed at Bahamut for poaching me so he shoved my soul back into the mortal realm. Surprise.”

“Are you hurt?”

“The wound has healed but healing from rigor mortis is a bitch.”

Ardyn laughs.

“It always is.”

“Right. I’m ignoring the implications there because if I think about anything serious I am going to lose it.” Ace peeks over Ardyn’s shoulder at Regis who is now standing with Clarus and Noctis by his side.

Regis looks devastated.

Ace is satisfied at that.

“You’re an asshole,” Ace tells him, “That fucking hurt.” He turns his attention back to Ardyn without waiting for a response. “Hey can you take me back home? I need to shower and change before anyone -especially Nyx and Lib - finds out.”

“Oh,” Sonitus says cheerfully, “Luche already told them that you were severely injured by the King and Libertus is threatening treason.”

“Fuck.”

#royal bastard au #the Glaives upon hearing their favourite barkeep was injured by their king: *squint*#The Glaives upon learning their favourite barkeep was not only injured by the king but also is the kings son: hm. Treason sounds nice #There is so much damage control ace has to do #So much #ace: please don’t treason because I died thanks #His friends: YOUR FATHER KILLED YOU?#Ace: ah. I made a mistake #Plus given that family is very important to the Galadhians no one is happy with Regis #Whoopps

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jupiterstupider123 · 3 days ago

Text

INSIDE THESE CASTLE WALLS

ONESHOT

RATING: Mature

PAIRING: Touya x Tenko/Shigadabi

WORD COUNT: 11415

SUMMARY: Tenko, the prince of the Shimura Legacy, had a recent assassination attempt placed against him. As a way to protect the crowned prince, his father assigns him a personal guard.

The castle walls feel thin and vulnerable as Tenko, the crowned prince of the Shimura Legacy, walks down the empty halls. A pair of two guards with silver armor and swords posed at their hips—ready to attack at any moment—followed behind him. It was quiet, only their footsteps on cobblestone and wood echoing throughout the castle. Passing by the library, the garden, and finally the entry hall to get to the throne room.

He was summoned from his quarters just a few moments ago, being told that his father needed to talk to him. It must’ve been about the war, the one that has been raging on for nearly a century. Tenko was to be informed on most things about the war, especially since his eighteenth birthday was approaching, meaning that he should be crowned king soon. The thought of it always made his palms sweat, his hands shake, and life to drain out of his eyes. He didn’t want to be king, he never really did. It was too much responsibility for someone like him. He went through insufferable amounts of training and the long hours of sitting in an uncomfortable tailored outfit and heavy crown during councils. Loud voices booming through his ears, questions like “are you listening, Prince Tenko?” and “What do you think, your highness?”, and many things that just felt out of his reach. He felt as though he couldn’t do anything to help the kingdom in this war, that he could just be the weak link that tore the entire kingdom to shreds, that he would be a failure.

He quickly shook his head, banishing the thoughts from his mind—at least for now. He just needed to go in there, listen to his father, and then he could leave. He just wanted some time to himself, which was a lot to ask for nowadays. He’s supposed to be finding a suitable partner to produce heirs with, one that’ll take over his rule once they grow to the age of eighteen. He hated the idea of marrying not for love, but for a child. He didn’t want children, he never did. If he had the choice to, he would just stay alone for the rest of his life, let the kingdom die with him, or have one of his sister’s children take over. She’s the one who actually wanted to get married and conceive a child anyways. She left to go get married to some other crowned prince when she was seventeen, leaving Tenko alone in the castle without his sister’s support.

He straightened his crown, making sure it wasn’t lopsided on his head as he entered the throne room. There he saw his father, King Kotaro Shimura, sitting on his throne. He had obviously been waiting for Tenko, an impatient look coating his older features. He just knew he was in for a lecture now, especially since the displeased look seemed to only grow as Tenko stood there.

He quickly snapped out of his trance and did a polite bow towards his father. “Your majesty,” he would say each and every time he would see him like this. Formalities were everything in the Shimura family, not having manners or not being polite was practically begging to be exiled. They weren’t nice on punishments either, he never knew that it wasn’t normal to have a threat looming over your head and breathing down your neck since you were born into this cruel world. These words, these commands, these expectations.. they were always right there, always in front of his gaze so he couldn’t escape. He could run away screaming, he could swear he doesn’t want to be king, he could order to have himself executed, and he still wouldn’t be free from this torture and madness that’s grown accustomed to.

“Come closer, Prince Tenko,” his father ordered, waving him forward with a gloved hand. His posture was nowhere near relaxed, sitting straight with tensed up shoulders and deadly eyes. Tenko couldn’t help but shiver under the king’s gaze, knowing that something must’ve gone terribly wrong for him to be like this.

“Yes, your majesty?” Tenko asked, keeping his hands clasped in front of him and his back straight. He was trained to have perfect and steady posture, so this came naturally to him now. But, he still couldn’t help but shiver every time his father would look at him like that. He hated the cold eyes, the distaste, the distance that was put between them ever since he was told he was the crowned prince.

His father never seemed to particularly like him. He always seemed to want someone stronger, more cooperative, more charismatic and charming. Tenko had those things, but not to the extent that was expected of him. Thinking about it always made his heart hurt, squeeze tight to the point where it felt like he was going to explode.

His mother was always the kinder, the more caring one. She was always there for Tenko and she tried to be there for Hana as well. The relationship between the two women was strained when an argument broke out between them, something about her being a suitable consort for a kingdom they wanted to strengthen their ties with. They both cared about Tenko, but they tried to avoid talking to each other. He knows that they both miss each other, that they want to reach out and hold each other and just be there for one another, but the damage was done and they are both too afraid to repair it.

“Recently, an assassination attempt was made,” the king started, pausing to gauge Tenko’s reaction. The man in question raised an eyebrow, waiting for his father to continue what he was saying. “on you.”

Tenko’s body tensed up and he couldn’t help the shaky breath he let out. An assassination attempt that was supposed to end his own life. He almost died. How did he not die? How was this person caught? All Tenko could mumble was, “How?”

“The assailant broke into the castle last night and was approaching your chamber, but luckily, one of the guards on patrol was able to stop them,” he stated calmly. His voice was leveled and he didn’t even seem to really care. Tenko wanted to grit his teeth, to tell his father off, to tell him what he really thinks right now—which isn’t exactly pretty. But he stays calm like his father, just like how he was taught.

“Is that all I was called into here for, sire?” Tenko questioned, tilting his head slightly. He didn’t understand why he was escorted all the way to the throne room to just be told his throat was almost slit in his sleep or something. It just didn’t make sense, why is he here? Usually, the castle moves on relatively quickly through assassination attempts since they are to be expected. Royalty is always the target, especially for people who want money or just want a name for themselves. Killing a monarch makes you look strong, like you’re invincible more specifically.

“No, your royal highness. Due to your eighteenth birthday approaching soon, I am to assign you a personal royal guard. One of the best of our troops.” Tenko’s eyes immediately widened at his father’s words. A personal guard? That is basically just a fancy way of saying being watched and monitored all day. Tenko bit down on his tongue, not wanting to say anything that could be viewed as backtalk towards the king. He didn’t think he needed a royal guard to accompany him, he was capable of defending himself and everyone knew it, but he supposed that his father wanted that extra reassurance in case he’s caught off guard and without his sword.

Just be polite and well-mannered, Tenko. Is all he could repeat inside his head as we spoke, “who is this royal guard?”

The king cleared his throat and gestured for the guards who were standing in front of the doors to open them, revealing the personal bodyguard who was standing there. The heavy doors creaked open, revealing a man dressed in a lavish uniform that had a lieutenant symbol embroidered onto the right sleeve. It was the kingdom’s colors—black, white, and blue—had a sword dangling from the belt, and the tailcoat had intricate designs and patterns across it. He was definitely a highly respected royal guard if he was allowed to wear that, especially since it was tailored to fit his body.

What strikes Tenko the most was the messy white hair and the piercing azure eyes that gazed at him from afar. He wasn’t about to lie to himself, the man was very attractive, but he also had this smug and snarky demeanor to him as he waltzed into the throne room, passing by Tenko without even a glance in his direction. He should have him executed for that, but he’s in such awe that he doesn’t necessarily care that he was just disrespectful towards the crowned prince. He watches as the man gets down on one knee, lowering his head down, keeping his posture completely straight as he says, “your majesty.”

Tenko watches in awe, his eyes widened and his gaze never leaving the knight. Now that he’s closer, he can see that he has a few piercings on his face—four on each ear and three on the right side of his nose. And god damn it, he found that attractive too. He let in a shaky breath as he watched the guard slowly rise to his feet, a cocky smirk on his face.

“Prince Tenko, this is Liteuniant Dabi. He will be your personal guard until we see fit,” his father said, giving the man—Dabi—a small nod. The guard turns around, still wearing that smirk as he eyes the prince. He gives him a small bow and a, “your highness.”

Tenko can’t help but scoff at his actions, but lets him carry on with what he is doing. Dabi straightens up, looking him up and down before resuming his position behind the prince, one hand on his sword just in case. He seems so confident in his abilities, like he knows that he’ll win every time he goes up against someone. And that might just be true, especially if he’s been assigned to take care of the crowned prince during a time like this. It makes Tenko bite the inside of his cheek as he looks at the king, his father, who is nodding to himself.

“You two are dismissed,” he finally says. Tenko gives a small bow before turning around, expecting Dabi to follow behind him. Which he does, but it’s only after he bows to the king as well. His respect for the king annoys him for some reason, even though he knows that he has to be like that, that he could get his head cut off for treason if he’s disrespectful. That’s always the worst possible scenario for a knight, and everyone knows it.

Tenko leads the way back to his chamber, trying to ignore the guard just a few steps behind him. He tries to avoid glancing back at him, not wanting to exactly acknowledge someone like him. Someone with so much confidence and arrogance that it just bothers him, that he doesn’t even want to be seen with him so his ego can’t be boosted. It all just annoys him down to his core, making him clench and unclench his fists every few moments to get some smoke out of him.

The two arrive back at Tenko’s quarters after passing by all the same rooms Tenko had just previously walked by minutes ago. He’s about to open the door when Dabi grabs the handle and does it for him with a smirk, gesturing for the prince to enter first. It feels almost humiliating for him to do that, even though it’s expected that a royal guard would open the doors for the people they serve. No need for their precious gloves hands to get dirtied by some door handle, that’s just completely out of the question.

He scoffs as he enters the room, waiting for the door to be closed before he takes his crown off and sets it down on the wooden desk. No need to wear it when there’s just one person here. He can already tell this guard is going to be on his ass by the way he’s looking at him, especially since he doesn’t particularly leave his room unless it’s for training, a council meeting, or his studies. Tenko spends a lot of time reading and lazing about in his room, training himself since he was a kid to be able to preoccupy his time with random little things. Sometimes he’ll draw in his sketchbook, clean the room even though he can have his servants do that, go over the footwork for sword fighting, or he’ll do his basic one, which is just grabbing a random novel from his bookshelf and reading it.

He turns around to see Dabi leaning against the door, seemingly a lot more relaxed now. He seems calm, like he just doesn’t care. Tenko can’t help but roll his eyes, walking by him to grab a book from the bookshelf. He flips through the first few pages while standing to see if he likes it, and once he decides he does, he goes over to his bed, sheds his elaborate coat to the ground, and lays down. He is immediately engrossed into the book, flipping through the pages with a steady yet interested expression. His eyes sometimes widening or an eyebrow raising. And Dabi just.. watches him. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, doesn’t even make a sound. Tenko’s convinced that that’s just a corpse standing at his door, that he isn’t actually alive just because of how quiet the man is. He finally gets fed up with it and looks up, where he sees that he’s still just staring. His attention is undivided, he’s not zoned out, he’s on high alert.

Dabi raised an eyebrow with a smile, giving the prince a small wave. “How’s the book, sir?” He asks, pushing off the door and standing up straight, walking closer over to him. There’s still a big difference between the guard and the bed, but you can still obviously tell he’s getting closer with each breath.

Tenko looks down at the book for a moment. He forgot he even had it for a second, he was just so focused on the fact that his guard was practically staring him down in the creepiest way possible. Made his breath hitch at the thought of it, presumably out of fear. It just felt weird. He hates being watched like this, having someone in his room at almost all times. “It’s fine.”

Dabi hums and walks over to the desk, pulling out the wooden chair and taking a seat. His gaze is still on Tenko, and he quietly asks, “do you do anything else other than just lay in bed and read? It’s awfully boring just staring here watching you do practically nothing.”

“Do not speak to your crowned prince that way,” Tenko immediately bites back, making Dabi’s eyes widen for a second. He lets out a small chuckle, running a hand through his own messy hair to try to push his bangs out of his eyes. He must have found what Tenko said amusing, because he still has that cocky smirk on his face as he stares him down.

“My apologies, your highness. But my question still stands, do you?” He asks once more, making Tenko sigh quietly. The latter sets down the book, letting it lay on the mattress as he sits up.

“I sketch, I clean, I train, I attend councils. That’s about it. Is that all you want to hear?” Tenko mumbles, counting the things he lists on his fingers. Dabi can’t help but scoff at what he just said, like it was dumb and boring. Which, it probably was. He seemed like the type of guy to know how to get away with almost anything as a royal guard.

“Awfully boring, prince. I honestly expected you to do more with your posh and perfect life,” Dabi stated, leaning forward on the chair and resting his chin on the back of it. He was enjoying the conversation, surprisingly. He wanted to know more about what being a royal was like here. The harsh conditions Tenko is being put under everyday, which just slips underneath almost everyone else’s radar. But it doesn’t seem to slip underneath Dabi’s, it’s just hidden in the back of his mind, something to be remembered and used later if it comes down to it. The white haired man seems almost relaxed as he speaks to Tenko, which is odd since the other seems really tense and awkward as he talks. Like he doesn’t want to be here or do this, which is true, he doesn’t, but Dabi isn’t about to get up and leave. He’s not allowed to unless it’s to go to sleep or he has direct orders from the king.

“How long have you been working as a guard?” Tenko suddenly said, his voice low and quiet as he spoke to the other man. The guy chuckles a bit at the question, thinking for a moment as he tries to remember when he first started out.

“I’m around 21 right now, and I’ve been working here as a guard since I was around thirteen.. but I had some previous training before that…” Dabi keeps mumbling as he tries to piece this puzzle together. “The simple answer is eight years.”

Tenko seems to be taken aback by how long he’s been working as a guard for such a young age. Most guards start out around sixteen years old, but this guy started out when he was thirteen. No wonder he was assigned to the crowned prince, he must be good with a sword and in defending others if he’s been working for so long. His father always wanted him to have the best of everything, and that doesn’t cut short on a personal knight.

“How come you’re not captain of the royal guard?” Tenko asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched Dabi raise an eyebrow. An amused expression came up on his face, the joke probably humoring him. The answer must’ve been quite simple if he’s making his guard hold back a laugh so he can speak or not seem like he’s being disrespectful to one of the royals.

“The captain has been serving under the king for over forty years, your highness. No matter how hard I try, I’m not going to become a captain until he’s gone from the position.” Dabi shrugs. “But, there’s been a rumor going along through the other knights that he’s planning on stepping down soon. Most are agreeing I’m next in line.”

“You can’t be that good,” Tenko said without thinking. That immediately evokes a reaction out of Dabi, eyes widening in surprise before a smirk creeps up onto his face. Oh god. He’s going to take this as some sort of challenge against his status.

“You want to bet on that?” Dabi practically barks out through laughter. He’s obviously up for the prince challenging him to which sounds like a sword fighting duel. They’re both trained with swords since a young age, so neither of them have a leverage on that. But, Dabi is definitely stronger, has had more intense training that Tenko, and definitely has more determination for winning than the other has.

“Are you challenging the crowned prince to a duel?” Tenko questioned, his tone harsh and ready to give him a punishment if he seemed to slip out of line. Dabi catches onto that, and shakes his head. He still wants to prove himself, but he has to do it in a different way than put the prince on his knees in front of him because of his own strength with a sword.

“Of course not, your royal highness. But I suppose you could see me fight a fellow contender for captain. Does that sound like an interesting challenge?” Dabi proposes, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. Tenko pauses, and the deal is dancing around in his mind, begging him to accept it immediately.

“What’s the reward if you win?” Tenko finally sits up from the bed, grabbing the coat of the ground and draping it over one shoulder. It seems like he’s already accepted the proposition, he just wants more information than what will happen.

“No idea. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, won’t we, your highness?” Dabi smirks, standing from the wooden chair and pushing it back up to the desk it belongs to. “If I win this little challenge we’ve conjured up, I’ll figure out what I want later on.” Tenko is about to object but a finger goes up to his lips, quietly shushing him. “And don’t worry, the same goes for you. If I lose to the person I’m going up against, you get to choose what you want for winning the bet.”

Tenko narrows his eyes and shoves his hand away. This deal is already seeping into his brain, begging to be brought to life. And he’s so tempted to agree, to watch his guard in action for the first time. So, after what feels like forever of just standing there and pondering, he finally mumbles out a small agreement. Dabi’s smirk turns into a grin, obviously excited that the prince accepted this bet he created in literal moments. He nods, gesturing for him to lead the way to the training grounds, but Tenko stays still.

“You need to find your contender, correct? Then you have to be the one to lead, I don’t know who this person is and where their post is located.” Tenko reminds, making Dabi let out a small hum. Neither of them seem to move though, waiting for the other to go. Tenko raises an eyebrow, watching as Dabi taps his foot uncontrollably. “Sir Dabi, what did I just say?”

“I’m not allowed to lead you around. It’s part of my orders to not have my back turned towards you. For one, it’s disrespectful of your title. And two, I won’t be able to protect you if I can’t see you. It puts you at a great risk, which I could never fathom. So, I’m requesting that you lead us to the training grounds where I can leave to go grab the opponent I have chosen.” Dabi pauses, reading Tenko’s face. “And don’t worry, the training grounds are 100% safe from threats.”

Tenko sighs. “Alright, let’s go.”

Dabi nods, adjusting his sword so that he can be able to grab it at a moment’s notice if anything is to go wrong on their small adventure across the castle. He’s still on duty after all, a singular mess up could cost him his title, and even worse, his head. So, he’s content with keeping the prince safe under his watch and protection.

They arrive at the training grounds, and Dabi excused himself to go find this supposed opponent he seems to desperately need. Sure, all of the knights here are great at their job and would be a suitable opponent for Dabi to show his skills, but it seems like he wants a real fight. Because next thing you know, Dabi is bringing in Sir Takami. They’re talking and laughing, probably close friends if they’re getting along this well. Might even train together sometimes, which could help them know the other’s moves and how they fight.

Keigo Takami. Claimed to be the fastest and most agile guard that the kingdom has, never has once had a slip up while on duty, which is quite impressive. Tenko can’t remember what his post is, but he’s presumably on the front lines in the castle. Dabi must’ve caught him during a break if he’s going to be able to get the high tier guard away from his work.

“Your highness,” Takami says as he gives the black haired boy a small bow, showing his respect for the prince. After a few moments, he straightens up again and turns to Dabi, who still has that stupid cocky smirk coating his face. Tenko can’t help but feel annoyed whenever he sees it, but he pushes it down inside of him. “So, we’re having a duel because you had a bet with the prince, Dabi?”

Dabi laughs but nods his head, “would you like to use our longswords or rapiers, Keigo? I’ll leave the choice to you.”

Keigo stifles a laugh and withdrawals his sword from his belt. “I think our normal longswords will do us well. No need to go to the weaponry for some challenge you made with the prince.”

Dabi nodded his head and unsheathed his sword as well, getting into his position. He seems so calm, even though he’s about to fight one of his toughest opponents. They’ve probably dueled before, but Tenko can’t help but feel nervous. He doesn’t want either of them to get hurt, he hates seeing people injured. It makes his stomach churn and his heart feel heavy. It’s never a good feeling. He hates it so much. All he can do is lean back against the nearby wall though, and watch as the two men slowly start to circle.

The training ground terrain is mostly grass with some cobblestone paths leading towards the exit. There’s some steeper areas with rocks, ones that have engraved stones sitting on top of them. Certainly an advantage if they can manage to get up there alone. It’s already beginning to get dark, and Tenko is hoping this fight ends quickly. It’s better for them to not fight in the dark, they’re far more likely to get reprimanded for it due to needing to be in their positions most of the time.

Dabi starts, thrusting his sword forward in hopes to hit Takami. But the other is too fast for Dabi’s attack, easily dodging it and moving more over to the side with a click of his tongue. Bored. Must be. They both want action from the other, want the other to make a move and do something with the swords resting in their hands.

After a few sword clinks and easy dodges, the two of them really start getting into the duel. Doing more risky actions with such confidence, ones that no novice would even think of attempting. But they’re skilled, they’ve been trained to wield and fight with a sword since they were teenagers. This is their wheelhouse, and they’re really showing how good they are at it. They’ve mastered it, and anyone can tell they’ve earned their title. Those little patches that are embedded into their sleeves, showing off their title and their abilities. They’ve earned them, and Tenko knows it.

They’re fighting rough now, kicking each other down to get leverage over the other, using the pommel of their swords to hit the other, even landing some slashes on the other’s arm. Neither are giving up, neither are saying they should stop, both are way more determined than they should be for something like this. It makes Tenko’s heart race as he sees clinking swords, intense swings and slices. It just terrifies him, but he can’t bring himself to call the fight off like he should. They wouldn’t kill each other, he knows that, so she shouldn’t be worried.

“We haven’t dueled in almost two years, Dabi. You’ve certainly improved on your accuracy,” Takami laughs out as his gaze flickers down to the multiple cuts on his arm. He doesn’t seem to be in pain, he’s smiling and laughing for crying out loud. He’s enjoying this more than anything.

“And your speed has improved too, Keigo. Didn’t think you could get any faster,” Dabi says, smirking. A slice on his cheek and one on his side, but makes no effort to back down. He’s not in pain either, but he should be. They both know he should be. It must be the adrenaline running through him or something like that.

The fight rages on, more injuries, more snarky remarks, and there’s still no clear winner. That is until Dabi finally manages to get onto the hill and fends Takami away from it, finally being able to strike him down with his boot. Takami falls to the ground, losing his grasp on his sword, watching it fall to the ground. Before he can get up, Dabi has his sword to his neck and his boot on his chest. A cocky smirk.

“I win.”

Takami growls but nods, accepting he can’t win this duel anymore. Dabi grins and sheaths his sword back into his belt before offering his hand to his former opponent. Takami doesn’t hesitate to grab it, letting the white haired man pull him up easily. “You put up a good fight. Your accuracy and quick thinking always does better than my agility it seems.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you’ve beaten me plenty of times. You just let me think for a moment too long, I suppose,” Dabi replies. He’s proud of himself, he just proved how good he is to the crowned prince. That’s no easy feat, especially against someone like Takami, one of the best royal guards.

Takami grabs his own sword and puts it back into position, excusing himself to go clean up and bandage his wounds. Dabi lets out a small laugh before returning to Tenko, who must have a shocked look on his face because Dabi lets out a howl of laughter when he sees him.

“Look at that, I won our little bet. What do you think, your highness? Did I do well in that duel or do you think I cheated somehow?” Dabi states, his smirk never leaving his face.

Tenko can’t help the scowl that crosses his features. But when his eyes land onto Dabi’s horrible cuts and wounds, concern immediately takes over. “We need to get you back to my chamber. Oh god, I should’ve stopped that fight sooner. The slice on your side looks like it hurts. How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

Dabi raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting that reaction from the prince, but he gave a meek shrug. “I’m fine, I’ve experienced a thousand times worse. I’ll just go visit the medic for the royal guards or something, get myself patched up.”

“No, they’ll ask too many questions. Come on, I have a medical kit in my room. I know how to patch up sword fight wounds, I can help,” Tenko urges, his tone forceful. He lets out a sigh before finally muttering, “my father will kill me if he finds out two of his best guards had a duel under my watch.”

Dabi’s expression softens a little bit and he nods his head. Tenko gives a small smile before leading the way back to his chambers, the walk quiet but the younger man’s heart still feeling heavy. He feels guilty for letting this happen, he could’ve and should’ve stopped it, but he didn’t because he got entertained. He’s starting to think he’s no better than his father when he reaches for the door again, but Dabi waves him off, pushing it open even with open wounds and pain etching into his body. Tenko can only roll his eyes as he waltzes in, taking off the jacket and rolling up his sleeves. He grabs the medkit from a desk drawer, scanning over the contents to see if there’s enough for what he needs to do. Seven rolls of bandages, plenty of fresh needles with medical thread spools, and cleaning equipment for disinfecting the wounds when he needs to.

He watches Dabi sit down on the floor, and he kneels in front of him, opening the medkit and grabbing the disinfectant wipes and then a wet towel from the bathroom. Slowly, he reaches up and starts to clean the cut on his cheek. It’s not bad, no stitches needed, just needs to be cleaned and bandaged. When Tenko finishes that task, he looks to see where all the other wounds are. Side, arms. He needs to clean his side and arms, which means Dabi needs to take his top garments off, which means Tenko will see him without those, and the thought is making his cheeks slightly heat up. He feels embarrassed of thinking like that around his royal guard, but the other doesn’t even seem to notice, his eyes darting all over the room. Anywhere and everywhere except Tenko.

“Dabi.” That snaps the piercing azure eyes back onto him. “I need you to take your shirt off.”

Dabi chuckles. “If you want to see me shirtless, there’s no need to be so awkward about it, your highness. I am supposed to follow your every command.”

Tenko’s jaw practically drops at Dabi’s words. He even considers him being serious for a moment before he bursts into laughter. Tenko awkwardly chuckles, trying to not watch Dabi unbuttoning his elaborate and specially tailored coat and his fancy white shirt. He’s trying not to state, but he can’t help but tilt his head when he sees a few burn marks and faded scars coating his skin.

“Where did this come from?” Tenko asked, not exactly thinking. Dabi pauses for a moment, then just shakes his head. He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t want to answer. Tenko really wants to hear why, but he knows it’s best to let Dabi be silent on his own personal matters. If they don’t have anything to do with Tenko, then he shouldn’t need to hear it. But, he’s dying to know.

Just keep your mouth shut.

Is all Tenko can think as he slowly begins to disinfect the bloody and messy wounds laid out before him, dabbing off the blood with the warm towel. He occasionally dips the towel into a pitcher full of water, squeezing it to get most of the water out before going back to cleaning. After cleaning up the fresh wounds across his sides, he discovers that the biggest on his side needs stitching, so he gets to work on that almost immediately, weaving needle and thread through his pale and damaged skin. His body obviously says he has a story to tell, but that’s a blocked off story, one that Tenko isn’t allowed to read.

Yet.

Shortly after Tenko finished patching up Dabi’s wounds, he left to return to his own chamber. Due to being a personal guard now and needing to be close to Tenko at all times, he was assigned the extra bedroom that lay empty in Tenko’s quarters. It hadn’t be touched in years, so it was probably as dusty as ever and there would be nothing of interest there. But, the servants probably would’ve cleaned it up before Dabi got there, so Tenko wasn’t too concerned about the other’s health while staying in that room.

Tenko let out a small sigh as he put the medkit back into the drawer of his desk, tucking it away from view. He stared at it for a few moments before finally closing the drawer, turning around to go change into sleep attire. He obviously couldn’t sleep in what he was wearing, it was incredibly itchy and uncomfortable, the fabric scratching against his skin every time he moved or even breathed. He hated these royal outfits, and if he could choose to wear something more comfortable, he absolutely would.

Once he was in the sleep attire, he settled into his soft and comfortable bed. He was about to turn to his side and let himself fall to sleep, but he spotted the book he was reading earlier before someone had interrupted his peace and quiet. He stared at the book, it’s deep brown cover barely visible in the darkness, and let out a huff as he grabbed it. He wanted to continue reading, but he needed to sleep. He set down the book on a small table near his bed before turning on his side, away from it, letting him fall into a deep and peaceful sleep.

“Get up, your highness,” a voice said quietly, a hand gently pulling the blankets away from Tenko. A grumble came out of the black haired boy, not wanting to be woken up, especially this early. It was annoying, he usually got to wake up pretty late, but this stupid guard decided he’s going to control his schedule now.

“Go away, Dabi. I want to actually sleep,” Tenko said, his tone sharp as he spoke. He could hear Dabi let out a small chuckle and then tore the blankets away from the other man, forcing him to feel the cold air all across his skin. Tenko’s eyes immediately shot open to glare at him, his eyes narrowed to slits from his annoyance.

“We need to get you waking up at a healthy time, prince,” Dabi taunted, obviously not caring that he was messing with royalty right now. He was bold, one of the boldest people that Tenko had ever met. The only other person who Dabi couldn’t even compare to was some noble who outright insulted the king in front of him. They had ended up with their land strippen away and then degraded to nothing because of it, which Tenko thought served them right. Disrespecting the king and getting away with it is unheard of.

Tenko scoffed as he sat up, still glaring at Dabi as he went to his overly large closet to change into some fancy and uncomfortable outfit. He settled on something more modest, one without some heavy coat hanging over his shoulder. Just a formal outfit that spoke levels of his wealth and status, but it didn’t matter—he could come out wearing rags and everyone would still know to bow and respect him whenever he even breathed the same air as them.

“I’m going to the garden, will you be following me around there as well?” Tenko asked as he set his crown on his head, making sure it wasn't slanted. “I really do believe a high-ranked castle guard would have better things to do. Like being in the front lines of defenses, or training, or even just helping the novices. You got lowered to some meek bodyguard though, didn’t you?”

Tenko was messing with him. He wanted a reaction out of the knight, he wanted to see him get actually mad at the crowned prince and lose it. Disrespecting his title was always a way to get someone mad, but it didn’t seem to work. Dabi let out a chuckle and shook his head, the comments almost amusing him. “Oh, my prince, you underestimate how much status this job gives me. Being trusted enough to guard the future king at all times? Only one can dream of that honor nowadays. But look at that, I got to be a lieutenant and a—in your words—‘meek bodyguard’.”

Tenko gritted his teeth at the snarky remark, pulling the door open before Dabi could and exiting the room. He didn’t hear footsteps behind him for a few moments, and he thought that was the other finally deciding to leave him alone. But that wish was short-lived, because he suddenly heard someone’s rushed feet coming towards him. He let out a tired sigh and glanced over his shoulder, spotting his guard following behind him with a cloak slung over his arm.

“It’s awfully cold today in the garden, I thought you would need this. Can’t have you freeze to death before your big celebration, now can we?” Dabi said, his smirk never leaving his face. Tenko let in a deep breath, but let Dabi drape the cloak gently over his shoulders, settling it down so Tenko wasn’t bitten by the cold air that was approaching his skin soon. Dabi was now walking behind him calmly, his hand on the grip of his sword, ready to pull it out at any moment in case he needed it. At least he can do his job well.

The two of them entered the garden, and sadly, Dabi was right. It was freezing cold, and the only thing keeping him warm was the deep blue cloak, the one that Dabi had taken his time to retrieve for him. Tenko bit his tongue, keeping his thoughts silent as he walked over to the array of flowers. Many of them seem to be wilting, presumably because of the cold weather. It was around the end of February, so it was to be expected. It still made Tenko slightly sad though, seeing such beautiful flowers begin to lose their petals and then their life draining out of them. He didn’t know how long he was standing there, looking at the wilting flowers until a voice spoke up.

“Are you alright, your highness? Your expression is quite solemn.” The guard pointed out, and Tenko couldn’t miss the hit of concern etching his voice. Tenko just simply nodded his head, walking away from the flowers and over to the ones that have been said to bloom well during the cold seasons. And those people weren’t wrong, the flowers were thriving and looked beautiful even when a plant shouldn’t be doing that. It was like magic, sorcery even, but Tenko knew there was probably something behind this he could find in a book in the library. He loved to learn, so maybe that was the next thing he should research.

The garden was always peaceful to Tenko. Bright colors, arrays of plants, and quiet areas made it feel comfortable. He felt safe there, like no expectation was breathing down his neck. He always came here when he needed just some time to himself, when he needed to think, when he just wanted to take a few moments to reflect on what his life is, what it will become. The thought always haunted Tenko, that he’ll be king and have even more expectations, even more responsibilities, even more eyes on him, begging for him. He couldn’t handle that, he knew it. And sometimes, all he wanted was an escape. He wanted something to look forward to in life, and he has been yet to find it. He wants to see it, grasp it, hold it so badly, he wants it to be permanently etched into his soul, but he knows he’ll never get it. He’ll always be stuck being the crowned prince and future king, something he never wanted.

But there was another person sharing this space, a shadow, someone following and watching his every move. He never wanted another person to be here with him, but for some reason he just didn’t mind. It was almost nice to have the company of someone that is supposed to care for him. Even with his snarky, almost rude, remarks, his presence was stable. Something for Tenko to hang onto in case he slips, if he falls, if he loses it. This man is there, and he can’t grasp onto why.

“Ah, your highness,” Dabi says suddenly, snapping Tenko’s attention towards him. “You have a council meeting soon, it slipped my mind to tell you. We should get going to the throne room for it.”

Tenko straightens up without a word, pulling his cloak more over him as he begins to walk. He expects Dabi to follow behind him soundlessly, and he does, monitoring and looking out for disturbances. There is none though, and they arrive at the throne room easily and without any doubts.

“Are you going inside with me?” Tenko asks, not turning around to face the man he’s speaking to. He doesn’t want to show how nervous he is. He’s always hated these council meetings, where he’s barraged with questions that he’ll never have answers to. Even when he is king, he won’t know, he’ll just sit there and keep quiet, hoping an advisor will save him.

“Of course, I can’t protect you from out here, now can I?” Dabi says, his smirk still holding onto his features. Tenko rolls his eyes and two guards open the doors for him, announcing his entrance to the rest of his room. He quietly moved to his own seat, a smaller throne of his fathers, and sat down. Dabi stands behind him, just a few feet away and ready to protect the prince if he needs to.

“Prince Tenko,” his father addresses him. “We’re here to talk about the war with the Todoroki Empire.”

Everyone straightens up and sucks in a breath at his words. Always a stressful topic, one that the people are afraid to talk about. The war, the one that has been raging on for almost a hundred years, the one that his grandfather and maybe ever great grandfather served in. The kingdom is desperate to end it, to win.

He even sees Dabi adjust his posture. That’s how much of a sore subject it is.

“King Enji, their leader, seems to be arming their forces as our spies said. They have twice the amount of our soldiers on their front line, more on the border. They all appear to be heavily trained in combat and with swords, training and working for long hours,” the king starts, his eyes narrowed as he speaks.

“We have to double our forces then, maybe even triple them,” a noble next to Tenko said, clasping his hands in front of him and resting his chin on them.

“And how do you suggest we do that? We have plenty of guards and knights, tripling them will be tedious and take too much time,” another one muttered, narrowing their eyes at the man.

“We take civilians from the streets, the strongest of them, and have them trained to be a guard. It seems desperate, but it could work,” the first noble suggested, making some people’s eyes widen.

Silence coats over the room as the words sink in. Take civilians from their homes to train them and turn into castle guards? With the chance of them dying without a choice? The thoughts rattle Tenko’s brain and he’s quick to object.

“We can’t do that. We can’t just take innocent people off the streets and train them to be something they’re not. Almost all of our guards here worked to become what they are, they wanted to be a knight. We can’t force the villagers to do such a thing, that’s not what our kingdom stands for.”

The noble scoffs, leaning forward slightly. “We’re in a desperate time, your highness. We have to do what we must, even if it ‘hurts the civilians feelings’. They’re lowly peasants anyways, their opinions don’t matter.”

Tenko’s eyes widened at what the man said, his anger flaring up. “Those are our people! Showing no care towards them can make us seem like we are some type of dictatorship, which we are not.”

“Since when has someone like you cared? You’re nothing but a pampered, spoiled brat who doesn’t deserve his title.” The man rose to his feet, getting awfully close. His hand raises, as if he’s about to hit Tenko, but a flash of a sword makes him stumble back slightly. It’s Dabi’s—his eyes narrowed and his pose threatening. He has his sword between the two men, one hand behind his back, and he’s looking at the noble.

“Do not come near the prince,” is all he said. His voice is laced with a threat. His quick thinking had practically saved Tenko from having a hand slapping him across the face, or punching him, or anything like that. Even with a sword that almost stabbed a noble, Dabi is still calm and leveled, but his anger is apparent.

“Guards, see this man out of here,” the king commands, and immediately the two guards by the door walk over, grabbing the noble and dragging him away. Once he’s out of sight, only then does Dabi sheath his sword back into his belt, stepping back from the prince. He resumed his original position, a hand still on the handle of the sword just in case another incident happened.

The council meeting resumes with no further disruptions, but Tenko can’t help but feel shaken up. He tries to focus on what to do about the war, but he keeps spacing out and replaying the moment in his head. He’s terrified of what could have happened to him. He doesn’t really want to think about it, but he can’t get it out of his mind. He can feel Dabi’s eyes on him, but he’s forced to ignore it until the meeting is over.

Once it does finish, Tenko is out of the room almost immediately, even Dabi’s shocked by how quickly he excused himself. He does still follow him, which is expected, but he keeps quiet and doesn’t ask about anything. Even when he opens the door to Tenko’s chamber, he stays completely silent and still, just leaning against the door.

“I need to clean your wounds, sit down.” Tenko points to the wooden chair at his desk and Dabi raises an eyebrow, not expecting to be acknowledged. But he doesn’t deny his orders and walks over to the chair and sits down. “Take off your shirt.” Dabi chuckles but discards the coat and shirt to the floor, leaning back and waiting for Tenko to do what he needs to do. Tenko takes a few moments before his shaky hands reach for the bandages on his sides, slowly unwrapping them from around his waist and observing the wounds. He decides he just needs to clean them a bit more and then he can reapply fresh bandages to the skin and wounds. He’s careful as he uses disinfectant wipes and a warm towel, making sure any blood that has dried is wiped away and that the rest of the wound is thoroughly cleaned. He then begins to wrap the bandages around his waist, pulling them tight where they need to be.

As he finishes up, he suddenly hears Dabi laugh. Tenko looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Never expected to have a prince of all people between my legs.”

Tenko pauses before his face heats up. The position he’s in does look awfully sexual, with him kneeling between the other man’s legs while the white haired male’s shirt is off. He grits his teeth as he thinks of how to reply.

“Like I’d ever suck your dick.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Tenko scoffs and finishes patching Dabi up, packing up the Merlot next to him and standing. He places the medical supplies back where he originally had them, watching Dabi as he sits on the chair. He’s awfully calm for someone who should be in so much pain right now, but he must be trained to have a high pain tolerance, he isn’t even breaking a sweat.

“Are you going to put your shirt back on?” Tenko asks as he grabs the book that he previously put on the small table near his bed. His eyes glanced up to Dabi, who just chuckled.

“Aw, don’t like seeing me shirtless?” He taunted, but sat up and grabbed his shirt from the floor. He paused for a few moments, just watching Tenko, but he finally pulled it over his shoulders and buttoned it up. He lived to see Tenko get annoyed, which he was very good at making him do.

Tenko sat down on his bed, putting the book on his lap, and started reading. He completely blocked Dabi out of his brain as he read, being completely engrossed in this book. Dabi didn’t bother him, instead going over to the bookshelf and scanning over the selections. He didn’t grab or even touch any of them, just looked at them, occasionally pausing to get a better look.

“You can grab a book if you think it’s interesting, I’m not stopping you,” Tenko mutters, supporting his head with his hand. He glances up at Dabi, who snorts at his comment, but does end up grabbing a book that he was looking at. He sits down at Tenko’s desk, opening the book and starting to read.

It was quiet, but it was somewhat peaceful. Only the occasional sound of paper flipping broke it, and Dabi looked so relaxed while he was reading. Tenko couldn’t help but smile to himself whenever he saw this, pleased to see Dabi actually enjoying something that wasn’t taunting the prince.

He found himself having a reason to smile again.

Around a month passed, and unexpectedly, Tenko and Dabi ended up growing closer than they thought. They were actually treating each other as if they were friends, with stupid jokes and spending time together. Well, the time together was mandatory, but they started to find it entertaining. They were enjoying each other’s company, instead of tolerating it.

“So, what are you going to wear for your big celebration party?” Dabi asked, sitting on top of Tenko’s desk with his boots on the chair. He started to get more confident in having less manners in Tenko’s room, and the other stopped exactly caring.

“No idea, but I should be getting my outfit fitted soon. Do you know what you’re wearing, future guard captain?” Tenko replied, leaning back on his bed. The book he was reading was shoved off to the side, not interested in reading it right now. He wasn’t actually interested in most of his normal things anymore, finding it way more entertaining to talk to Dabi.

“All of the knights are wearing the same thing, but I’ll have a lieutenant badge on mine. Hopefully that makes me distinguishable,” Dabi jokes, knowing it was going to be hard to tell most of the guards apart.

Tenko nodded his head, slouching down. He didn’t have to worry about maintaining good posture around Dabi, the other really didn’t care. Maybe he’d make fun of it every once in a while, but it was just lighthearted banter, which Tenko has grown to learn and actually enjoy for some reason.

“You have training soon, right? I remember you mentioning it earlier today or something,” Dabi said, tilting his head. He didn’t know for sure, so that’s why he was asking. But Tenko just shook his head, a supposed no from him.

“My trainer has a day off today. So, I’m just probably going to laze around or something. Can’t do training if I don’t have someone training me,” he chuckled and Dabi raised an eyebrow.

“I can train you.” He shrugged, a smile dancing on his lips. Tenko’s eyes widened slightly, surprised that Dabi offered such a thing. But he did want to work on a few moves that he’s being taught currently, and Dabi could help him..

“Fine, fine. Let’s go,” Tenko mumbled and stood up from his bed and began to walk out of the room. Dabi quickly followed him, a cocky look on his face as they walked over to the training grounds. They had never done training together, or did any sword fight, even if they had joked about it countless times before.

They arrived at the training grounds, quickly doing a few exercises before the actual sword training started. They decided to do longsword training today, since Tenko had been focusing more on using a rapier these past few weeks. It was also just more convenient since Dabi always had his sword attached to his belt.

They ran through some footwork, positions when holding the sword, and then how Tenko fights. His fighting style was a lot more elegant than Dabi’s but it was still one of the best the man had seen.

“You want to do an actual sword fight now? Or are you too afraid to go against me?” Dabi teased, leaning over Tenko’s shoulder from behind. The other man scoffed, sheathing his sword back into his belt.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” Tenko said, ending the idea. Dabi rolled his eyes as he leaned back, waiting for Tenko to continue his training. Dabi had him go over some of the positions he wanted to review, adjusting them when he needed to.

“Like this, your arms should be a bit higher,” Dabi muttered, standing behind him with one hand on his shoulder and the other moving Tenko’s arms up. The pose was awfully intimate for the two of them, with Dabi practically breathing down his neck as he spoke. His breath was warm, but it felt comforting as he talked in a low and steady voice. “There you go.”

Tenko tries to laugh off his embarrassment as he lowers his arms, relaxing his body, but Dabi turns him around so he can face him. Their eyes lock, and Dabi seems to pause as he stares at him.

“Your face is all red, are you feeling okay?” Dabi asks, pressing a hand to Tenko’s forehead to check his temperature. Obviously, he finds that Tenko doesn’t have a fever and he tilts his head. “You’re not sick.”

And Tenko knows why his face is all red.

He’s blushing.

He’s been suspecting this for a bit now, but he’s always tried to push it down. There’s no way he has feelings for his guard, there’s no way he’s in love with someone who’s so below him. But he knows he’s lying to himself, he knows he does.

He stares down at the ground, unable to meet Dabi’s eyes. But he can feel his chin being pulled up, he’s being forced to gaze into Dabi’s piercing azure eyes. And he knows Dabi knows that he’s making him actually feel something. Because Dabi gives him a light chuckle, moving a strand of hair behind Tenko’s ear.

And suddenly, Dabi’s lips are on his. His eyes immediately widen, not expecting the kiss that’s being pressed against him. He doesn’t know how to react for a few moments, but when he feels Dabi begin to pull away, his brain scrambles and he pulls him back by grabbing onto the back of his neck, forcing him to stay in the kiss. He’s now actually kissing him back, in the training grounds, where anyone can see them. But he doesn’t seem to care, neither does Dabi. They just keep pressing kisses against each other’s lips, Dabi’s hands going to Tenko’s waist while Tenko’s arms wrap around Dabi’s neck.

It feels like forever before they finally pull apart, the kiss lingering on each other’s lips. One of Dabi’s hands moves up to gently cup Tenko’s cheek, a soft smile on his features as he stares at the black haired boy. He brings their lips together again, continuing to kiss each other softly yet so passionately, like they’ve been in love for years.

They break apart again, and Dabi chuckles as he looks at Tenko. They’re both so drunk on each other’s love and touch, and it’s obvious as they look at each other. “Thought I was about to get executed for a minute there.”

Tenko huffs. “You surprised me, I wasn’t going to immediately kiss you back.” He leans his forehead against Dabi’s and the other chuckles softly, gently stroking his hair with a smile.

“Still, I really thought I was going to be dead. How do you think they’d execute me for kissing the crowned prince?” Dabi jokes, which earns a glare from Tenko.

“Don’t say that, you’re not going to get executed,” Tenko mumbled before kissing Dabi again. It’s quickly returned, the other's hands going back to Tenko’s hips so he can keep him steady. It’s already apparent they’re addicted to the feeling of the other’s lips against their own with the way they keep kissing each other right out in the open, where quite literally anyone could walk by and spot them.

“We should get back to your quarters, I don’t think we can risk getting caught right now,” Dabi says as he suddenly breaks the kiss, earning a small whine from Tenko. He laughs again, pulling away and signaling to Tenko to start walking. The latter huffs, sheathing his sword with a small glare, beginning to quickly walk back to his room where they can actually be in private without the worry of another person seeing them.

They arrive back, and the second the door is shut, Tenko attaches his lips back onto Dabi’s. The white haired male chuckles when he does, but kisses him back with just as much affection and desperation as the other. He has Tenko against the door rather quickly, continuing to kiss him with so much warmth and love that Tenko feels like he might melt.

When they’re finally out of breath again, they pull away, Dabi’s lips immediately moving to Tenko’s jaw, pressing light kisses against the skin. Tenko reaches up, petting Dabi’s hair softly as he continues to press his lips against his jaw and his throat.

“Can you sleep in here tonight?” Tenko asks, his hands continuing their soft strokes through Dabi’s hair. Dabi hums against his throat, pressing a final kiss before looking up at him.

“What? You want me to fuck you or something?” He teases, an amused look in his eyes. He loves to embarrass Tenko, so seeing his face going all red from that just influenced his taunts further.

“I did not say that,” Tenko mutters, pulling Dabi closer to him even though that seems nearly impossible. Dabi smirks but nods his head, pressing a kiss against the other’s forehead. “I just want you to be here.”

“I’ll have to leave pretty early though, make sure we don’t get caught. Having a guard in your bed won’t look the greatest,” Dabi says, ruffling Tenko’s hair and then he wraps his arms around him.

They stay like that for a bit, before Tenko’s obviously half awake and exhausted. Dabi chuckles and lifts him off the ground, carrying him in his arms and gently setting him down on the bed. He removes Tenko’s coat for him, and then takes off his sword belt and boots. He presses a kiss on his cheek, moving his hair from his eyes to look at him.

“Are you okay with me taking off your shirt? I know it isn’t comfortable to sleep in,” Dabi whispers, continuing to run his fingers through his hair as he waits for Tenko to answer. A small nod is all he got, so he responds with a chuckle and slowly unbuttons the high-collared shirt, carefully slipping it over his shoulders. He tosses it onto the floor, shedding his own coat, shirt, sword belt, and boots before getting in on the other side of the bed. Tenko immediately latches on to him, wrapping his arms around Dabi’s neck and one leg going on Dabi’s. The other smiles, putting his hands on his waist and gently stroking his sides. He watches Tenko fall asleep in his arms, his expression so relaxed and peaceful, and it’s all because of him.

When Tenko wakes up, he feels awfully cold and alone. Dabi wasn’t lying, he did leave before Tenko awoke. He knew why he had to, but he still felt sad and solemn without the other man’s touch. He continued to lay in bed, the blanket pulled over his shoulders and tucked under his chin. He just waited, wanting Dabi to return to the room so he can actually hug him, and kiss him, and just talk to him. It hasn’t even been a day of this and he’s already addicted.

Almost an hour passes before the door creaks open, Dabi’s head poking in through the door. His face is immediately coated in concern, quickly closing the door and walking over to Tenko. He kneels down at the side of the bed, gently stroking Tenko’s cheek.

“What’s wrong, Tenko?” He asks, not expecting for Tenko to grab his hand and beginning to kiss every knuckle on his hand over and over. He must’ve missed having Dabi’s skin against his lips, because he just seems so desperate to keep pressing kisses against him. “Did you miss me?”

Tenko lets out a quiet hum, pulling Dabi’s hand. The other man obviously gets the hint and sheds his boots and sword belt, laying back down in the bed with Tenko. He lets him rest his head against his chest, gently stroking his hair and playing with it. His eyes never left Tenko, just staring at him, thinking about how beautiful he is, how perfect he is.

This continues on for a week, and it’s the day before the ball. Tenko’s exhausted, being wrapped into so many preparations to the point where he could barely even speak to Dabi. He hated it, he wanted to have his full attention on the other, but the people wouldn’t allow him to.

He’s resting his head against Dabi’s chest, the other pressing soft kisses against his hair. They both seem so calm and relaxed right now, drunk on love. Dabi’s fingers run over Tenko’s spine continuously, sometimes rubbing his back as well.

“Tenko?” Dabi suddenly speaks up, and his tone is serious. Tenko’s eyes darted up towards him, tilting his head, a clear signal for him to go on. “I need to tell you something.”

“Of course, go on.”

“I.. don’t know how you’re going to react to this, but if you’re upset when I tell you, I completely understand. It’s not something that you probably want to hear, but it’s best if I tell you.”

Tenko raises an eyebrow, waiting for Dabi to continue speaking. He watches as the man in question lets in a sharp breath before finally muttering,

“I’m the eldest son of the Todoroki Empire, Touya Todoroki.”

Tenko’s eyes practically shoot open and he sits up, backing away from Dabi slightly. “The Todoroki Empire..? You mean the kingdom we are at war at right now? You’re joking right?”

Silence spreads between them, feeling the room. Dabi is still laying down, but he’s not looking at Tenko.

He’s not joking.

Tenko immediately gets off the bed, backing away from Dabi. He’s terrified, he feels betrayed even though Dabi has done nothing other than being from the other kingdom. But he knows that most of their trust was just shattered because of that, how he’s in love with a man who’s the oldest son of Enji Todoroki, the man who is supposed to be his sworn enemy.

“Tenko, I know this is difficult to hear, but I promise you, I’m not some spy for their kingdom. I ran away when I was thirteen, I couldn’t handle it there, the abuse, the neglect, I just couldn’t. I seeked refuge here, became a knight, and now I want to serve for this kingdom, not the one I was born into. I know, it sounds unbelievable, but please, I need you to trust me on this. I love you more than I even hate the Todoroki Empire, you have to believe me,” Dabi says, getting out of the bed as well and crossing over to Tenko.

Tenko is frozen in shock and fear. Dabi loves him more than he hates the kingdom he belongs to. And he believes that, he knows he does. Dabi wouldn’t do this with someone he was using, he knows he wouldn’t. But he’s still frozen, he can’t get anything to work except his mind.

“The burns, the scars, all of those things I have across my body come from there. That’s why I came here, I knew I would be treated better here as a knight than I ever would be as a prince.”

“You’re not lying about loving me..?”

“Of course not, Tenko. I love you more than anything, I promise that. If I’m lying, then I give you express permission to get me executed immediately.”

And that does it for Tenko. He immediately wraps his arms around Dabi, his hands shaking as he holds back tears. Dabi holds him close, quietly shushing him and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

He loves him.

And that’s all Tenko can seem to think as he pulls Dabi into another soft kiss, one that was just like their first. And he knows it won’t be his last with him, that he’ll have plenty of more of these. That he’ll become king with Dabi as his consort, the man he will marry, no matter what anyone else says.

Because he loves him too.

Hope you enjoyed this oneshot <3

#shigaraki tomura #touya todoroki #shigadabi #writing #mha #mha writing #my hero academia #oneshot #fantasy #royalty

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