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wombywoo · 6 months

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Ok! I've finally decided to put together a (somewhat) comprehensive tutorial on my latest art~

Please enjoy this little step-by-step 💁‍♀️

First things first--references!

Now I'm not saying you have to go overboard, but I always find that this is a crucial starting point in any art piece I intend on making. Especially if you're a detail freak like me and want to make it as realistic as possible 🙃

As such, your web browser should look like this at any given point:

Since this is a historical piece, it means hours upon hours of meaningless research just to see what color the socks are, but...again. that isn't, strictly, necessary 😅

Once I've compiled all my lovely ref pics, I usually dump them into a big-ass collage ⬇️

(I will end up not using half of these, alas :'D)

Another reference search for background material, and getting to showcase our models of choice for this occasion~

When picking a reference for an actor or model, the main thing I keep in mind (besides prettiness 🤭) is lighting and orientation. Because I already kinda know what pose I'm gonna go with for this piece, I can look for specific angles that might fit the criteria. I should mention that I am a reference hound, and my current COD actor ref folder looks like this:

Also keep in mind, if you're using a ref that you need to flip, make sure you adjust accordingly. This especially applies to clothing, as certain things like pants zippers and belt buckles can be quite specific ☝️

Now that we've spent countless hours googling, it's time to start with a rough sketch:

It doesn't have to be pretty, folks, just a basic guideline of where you want the figures to be.

The next step is to define it more, and I know this looks like that 'how to draw an owl' meme, but I promise--getting from the loose sketch above to below is not that difficult.

Things to keep in mind are--don't go too in-depth with the details, because things are still subject to change at this point. In terms of making a suitable anatomically-correct sketch, I would suggest lots of studying. This doesn't even have to be things like figure drawing, I genuinely look at people around me for inspiration all the time. Familiarize yourself with the human form, and things like weight, proportions, posing will seem a little more feasible.

It's also important at this stage to consider your composition. Remember to flip the canvas frequently to make sure you're not leaning to one side too often. I'm sure something can be said for the spiral fibonacci stuff, which I don't really try to do on purpose, but I think keeping things like symmetry and balance in mind is a good start ✌️

Next step is just blocking in the figures. Standard. No fuss 👍

Now onto the background!

It's frankly hilarious how many people thought I was *hand-drawing* these maps and stuff 😂😂 I cannot even begin to comprehend how insanely difficult that would be. So yeah, we're just taking the lazy copy and paste way out 🤙

I almost always prepare my backgrounds first, and this is mostly to get a general color scheme off the bat. For collage work, it's really just a matter of trial and error, sticking this here, slapping this there, etc. I like to futz around with different overlay options until I've found a nice arrangement. Advice for this is just--go nuts 🤷‍♀️

Next, I add a few color adjustments. I tend to make at least 2 colors pop in an art piece, and low and behold, they usually tend to be red and blue ❤️💙There's something about warm/cool vibes, idk man..

Now we move on to coloring the figures. This is just a basic block and fill, not really defining any of the details yet.

Next, we add some cursory values. Sloppy airbrush works fine, it'll look better soon I promise 🙏

And now--rendering!

I know a lot of beginner artists are intimidated by rendering, and I can totally understand why. It's just one of those things you have to commit to 💪

I've decided to show a brief process of rendering our dear Johnny's face here:

Starting off, I usually rely on the trusty airbrush just to get some color values going. Note--I've kept my sketch layer on top, but feel free to turn it on and off as you work, so as to not be too bound to the sketch. For now, it's just a guideline.

This next stage may look like a huge jump, but it's really just adding more to the foundation. I try to think of it like putting on make-up in a way~ Adding contours, accentuating highlights. This is also where I start adding in more saturation, especially around areas such as ears, nose and lips. Still a bit fuzzy at this point, but that's why we keep adding to it 💪

A boy has appeared! See--now I've removed most of the line layer, and it holds up on its own. I'll admit that in order to achieve this realistic style, you'll need lots and lots of practice and skill, which shouldn't be discouraging! Just motivate yourself with the prospect of getting to look at pretty men for countless hours 🙆‍♀️

I'll probably do a more in-depth explanation about rendering at some point, but let's keep this rolling~

Moving forward is just a process of adding to the figures bit by bit. I do lean towards filling in each section from top to bottom, but you can feel free to pop around to certain parts that appeal to you more. I almost always do the faces first though, because if they end up sucking, I feel less guilty about scrapping it 😂 But no--I think he's pretty enough to proceed 😚

They're coming together now 🙆‍♀️ Another helpful tip--make sure you reuse color. By that, I mean--try to incorporate various colors throughout your piece, using the eyedropper tool to keep a consistent palette. I try to put in bits of red and blue where I can

Here they are fully rendered! Notice I've made a few subtle changes from the sketch, like adjusting the belt buckles because I made a mistake 😬 Hence why you shouldn't put too much stock in your initial sketch~

The next step is more of a stylistic choice, but I usually go over everything with an outline, typically in a bright color like green. Occasionally, I can just use my initial line layer, but for this, I've made a brand new, cleaner line 👍

And the final step is adjusting the color and adding some text:

Tada!! It's done!

All in all, this took me the better part of a week, but I have a lot of free time, so yeah ✌️

I hope you appreciated that little walkthrough~ I know people have been asking me how I do my art, but the truth is--I usually have no clue how to explain myself 😅 So have this half-assed tutorial~

As a bonus, here is a cute (cursed) image of Johnny without his mustache:

A baby, a literal infant child !!! who put this wee bairn on the front lines ??! 😭

Anyway! peace out ✌️

#tutorial #my art #art tutorial #since people have been asking #I remembered to save my process from this latest work~#enjoy 🙆‍♀️

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writingmeraki · 11 months

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min ho as your bf hcs !

genre : fluff ! romance !

pairing : min ho x gn!reader, strangers to friends to oblivious idiots to lovers :)

warnings : insecurity and jealousy ( not anything too alarming ), attempt at comedy, kissing, not proofread ! ( lmk if i missed anything ! ) also self indulgent at times 😔

author's note : dawg it's 5:30 am pulled this out of the two last living braincells of my brains to dip my toes into this xo kitty craze i am having, especially for min ho but anyways! idk if i like this, ( it's normal I'm so sorry I'm never sure if i like what i write at times because i end up writing at the ass crack of dawn and that too unhinged 😔) i kinda find it longer than i intended it to be but hope you like it <3 I'll be writing more if I get feedback and expect something else soon :)

word count : 3.4k (💀)

how you met !

- You'd both met when it was your first day at KISS.

- Well since it's Min ho, i feel like it would take a lot for someone to put an impression on him to make him remember them.

- At the welcome party, he was pretty bored, already used to these types of parties when you'd walk in, clueless looking like a deer in headlights, in your pretty little outfit.

- It definitely made him curious nonetheless, even though you seemed lost, you still had a smile, maintaining a confident aura.

- You'd probably be nervous on the inside though, but lucky for you, someone like you, that was Kitty, happened to also seem lost.

- You both connected immediately, her being new to Korea wanting to get to know her own roots and ofc her boyfriend more while you were there because you'd been wanting a change from your life back home and what better city than Seoul !

- Well okay, you didn't really pick it, it was more so of you just throwing a dart at the map back in your room to choose where you wanted to go as a fresh start and it landed on Seoul. You'd call it fate.

- Now back to the party, as you chattered with Kitty, you walked into someone and you felt your breath hitch, upon seeing him.

- It did feel like those cliche weird movie moments, when you think that this is probably it.

- As he was obviously annoyed at Kitty, he turned to the person beside her and his eyes widened.

- It was you. The one that caught his eye right at the beginning.

- Before anything, you flashed your soft smile at him, an apologetic look in your eyes, apologizing for bumping into him, on behalf of Kitty

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean to bump into you, I can get you some paper towels?" You said gently and Min ho definitely wanted to continue hearing you, already really loving the way you sounded.

Q would definitely be shocked though, seeing him look flustered, and staring at you, blinking twice. He never thought he'd ever see his best friend being so…speechless.

He literally had to bump his shoulder to snap him out of daze which seemed to have worked, for the most part.

- You all introduced yourselves, finding out they'd been Dae, Kitty's boyfriend's best friends, and with the way she seemed a bit taken aback by the way she looked at Min ho made you feel like you'd definitely didn't know something.

- And unknowingly both Q and Kitty did notice, sharing a puzzled look, at Min ho's state. They'd met a while ago but clearly there was already something there. A new thing, blooming slowly.

how you got together !

- And fast forward a bit, Kitty who was true to her matchmaking skills, knew you both liked each other.

- You'd both hang out often over the few weeks, connecting more and despite her own love life being confused, she was determined to make you both realize you were oblivious idiots who liked each other, idiots nonetheless.

- He'd upgraded to talking freely around you more, but you found out he wasn't the shy person you thought he was the first time you met him, the very next day, when he began to compliment himself and flash his annoyingly handsome smirk at you.

- But despite his cockiness, you knew he cared about those he loved. Small gestures and actions are proof enough. He was someone who cared without showing it much, giving gifts was his love language and that only made you more convinced you'd definitely gained feelings for him.

- And alas, you came to her, spilling out your feelings, how you had already found him attractive since the first time you saw him, at first you genuinely thought he'd be a jerk, knowing better than to think a handsome face had a good personality.

- And as much as you were terrifyingly nervous of having such a revelation regarding a boy you'd met only a few months ago now, you don't think you'd ever regret liking someone like Min ho.

-Now it was up to the matchmaker to make you both realize you were meant to be.

-The perfect match, in her words and Min ho definitely scoffed at her words when she confronted him about his own feelings, definitely not because you had said to never ever mention anything about how you felt to him, she just wanted to make sure, and as always her gut was right.

- As much as he scoffed at her words recalling his own family, he couldn't stop his own heart from fluttering as he thought of being together with you, and even to him, this revelation made him a bit taken aback but he was sure, he was sure about how he felt about you.

- They all planned to get you to confess during the camping trip, unsurprisingly all of your mutual friends knowing you had both liked each other and agreed, getting tired of seeing you pining for each other in secret, as cute as it was.

-Kitty would tell you to dress up nicely, saying she had planned a dinner, making up excuses about how there was this spot, perfect for chilling, you did find her behavior a bit odd, but with her persuasive nature, you agreed.

- She made you wear this one outfit, it was one you'd bought and adored a lot, you didn't even know you had packed it, but it made you look amazing and was made for you, in Kitty's words.

- Then she did your hair and applied light make up, your suspicions being even more, asking her a million questions about whether all this was really necessary if it's going to be just us chilling, her just dismissing your questions.

- Min ho wasn't too different on the other end, but Q knew him. Min ho was one who dressed to impress, more of himself nonetheless, he knew he wouldn't hold back on his style.

- And he was right because when he just told Min ho to dress his best tonight and Min ho being Min ho dressed in a fucking suit. Yeah he was not one to mess around his fashion game.

- Q made up a similar reason, something about a dinner at this cool spot. And Min ho didn't really question much, going along.

- When you were almost near the place, Kitty suddenly placed her hands on your eyes from behind you, making you chuckle nervously, asking her if she'd suddenly had a grudge and had really just brought you out to kill you.

- Kitty rolled her eyes, you not seeing her of course, having your vision being engulfed in a sudden darkness.

Whispering softly into your ears, she told you

"Just trust me on this one and you should thank me later."

- On the other side, Min ho almost screamed when he felt his eyes being covered in a sudden darkness by a blind fold, Q choosing a blind fold knowing if he kept his hands, Min ho would go on a long rant about how to not touch his face, and would probably snap back saying how he said that but he allowed you to touch his face to poke his cheeks.

"Q, bro, as much as I love you, I am not into thi-"

"Shut up."

He led Min ho, now only a feet away from the spot,

"And thank me later genius, preferably with your fancy water, it tastes amazing."

- Kitty and Q looked at each other making sure, you both were facing each other.

- Knowing you both were probably going to say something, they both just smiled at each other and let your eyes become uncovered.

- As you adjusted your eyesight to your surroundings, you'd both spotted each other, surprised was probably what you felt.

- Yet upon seeing the way your hair was done, the way your makeup only enhances your features, your gentle eyes sparkling under the soft moonlight, your outfit only adding to your beauty, Min ho just wanted to treasure you forever if he could as his heart picked up in pace, more enchanted by your mere presence.

- You were no different, a reminder that he was definitely sculpted by Aphrodite herself as the moonlight fell upon his face, his suit only making you more trapped, fitting him perfectly, his hair styled to perfection, some strands escaping and gently resting on his forehead.

"Well! Now that you're both here, enjoy! And oh, don't mess this up, please for the sake of all of us fed up with you oblivious idiots!"

Kitty said suddenly making you look at her, furrowing your eyebrows at her words and upon hearing Q's agreement Min ho narrowed his eyes at being called an idiot and before the both of you could say another word they turned around and left.

- You took in the surroundings, now noticing the glittering fairylights and the table set up in front of you, a rose bouquet placed in the middle, filled with specifically red roses and some candles.

"Looks like they set us up."

Min ho said, already catching onto what this was all about, and it made him just a tad bit nervous

"Oh and uh if you feel uncomfortable, we can go back-"

Giggling at the way he seemed sheepish and nervous at the same time, you shake your head,

"Not at all, we can't let their efforts go to waste now can we? After all, we shouldn't mess this up."

You air quoted the final words, moving forward to take a seat.

Min ho had a small smile on his face as he heard you giggle, nodding along

"Yeah you're right. Covey will probably throw me off this cliff."

You chuckled as you both sat down

"Don't worry, I'll jump after you to save you. Can't let my date be murdered by my best friend."

His eyes widened a bit at your words, you paused a bit wondering if you spoke too much maybe, but all your doubts dissolved when he replied

"What no! You can't hurt yourself because of me!"

- You were sure your cheeks would have hurt from the amount of laughing and giggles you'd share with Min ho that night, convinced you'd never laugh this much in one night your entire life.

- And as the night came to an end, you both sat on the cliff, looking at the stars, sharing sneaky glances and adorable grins. You knew it was the right moment to just let it all out

"Min ho."

Humming at you, he looked at you from his previous stargazing, sitting beside him with his jacket over your shoulders to top off the clicheness, looking just unreal and you had done nothing but call him yet he loves it a lot more than he'd admit.

"I think I'm in love with you."

You said it, there. Out in the open. Out of the temporary home the words had found on the tip of your tongue and you braced yourself for the worst of the worst.

You looked away, gulping back up at the stars.

"Come on now, you can't just look away after that."

Min ho gently cupped your face, to make you look at him, his cooler fingers a contrast to your warm cheeks.

He smirked at you, leaning closer,

"I know you do."

Frowning a bit at his answer, you narrowed your eyes at him, but he had more to say

"But, I don't think I am in love with you though, I know I am definitely in love with you."

You gaped at his words, staring into his sincere eyes, moving yourself closer as he leaned in more and more.

"Can I ?"

He asked softly, foreheads touching each other, your breathing in sync.

"Please."

- It was slow and gentle, something unknown to the both of you, letting your feelings be conveyed through the touch of your lips. You had placed your hands around his neck pulling him closer as his own hands moved to your waist.

You pulled away shortly, needing to breathe, foreheads still touching each other.

"So does this mean we're official ?" You timidly asked and he responded,

"We'll take it however you want it to be but I won't lie, I would love to be your boyfriend."

He finished with a cheeky grin and you giggled

"Okay then, boyfriend."

Pecking him one more time as his grin grew wider, you knew this was probably your biggest happiness till date.

how being in a relationship with him is !

- It was no joke when he said giving gifts was his own love language.

- He spoiled you to the brim, despite your protests. You didn't mind them of course. It's just throughout your life you'd only get such special gifts on big occasions but he got them for you on random Tuesdays and you felt like you were getting more than you deserve.

"Baby, you know how much I love you, this is my own way of showing it." He'd pouted it to you when you had protested once and you being the best partner you tried to be, just accepted them and of course treasured them safely in your room.

- As much as Min ho didn't mind showing affection to you in public because for one he didn't really care about what others thought of his actions,it was his life, he'd been living it how he wanted and wouldn't let anyone change that.

- But he was protective of you in public, holding your hand, though you didn't mind that at all when his larger hands seemed to perfectly wrap around yours as you pulled him closer to you.

- He'd probably let you and only you use his skincare routine products, in fact going in the extra mile and teaching you how to use them and what to use them for, applying them for you, a little like your very own spa treatment, and you giggled sometimes seeing him focused and serious when talking about how you didn't really need them since you were already perfect.

"You're already beautiful though." He told you as he applied a moisturizer on your face that for the love of all good things, you didn't know the name of. "This will just keep your skin looking healthy but if you don't want to use it, we can stop of course."

"It's okay. It feels nice." You hummed as he trailed his fingers gently on your face, massaging it, and he smiled at your content look. He knew you were a little stressed due to some tests hence why he insisted you take a break with him at the moment.

"I'm glad then."

- He knew you loved his cooking, even before you got together, he'd always been making food for you when you would be at his dorm. He already knew your favorite dishes so when you felt down, he'd be ready with your comfort food.

- He loved to hear your little reviews about his cooking, you always had something to say about any dish he made, whether it was just the right amount of spice or how the tofu made the dish even more delicious, he listened to your suggestions and would use that to improve his skills.

- He'd teach you how to cook as well, starting with smaller and less complicated dishes,feeling his heart swell with happiness when you were successful at one and even if you failed, he'd reassure you that it's alright and we can try it again or another dish.

- Kisses were often shared anywhere and anytime even if your friends would complain about it, calling you gross and lovesick fools, you didn't care about what they said when you felt the familiar butterflies in your stomach as your lips touched his.

- You made him a very long playlist consisting of all and every song that reminded you of him, reminded you of moments with him, reminded you of how he made your heart flutter.

- He'd listen to it, telling you what parts he loved and he too had a similar playlist, it was probably the cheesiest thing to do, as Kitty said but then again you felt all kinds of so called cheesy emotions whenever you were with him.

- He would introduce you to his mother, and that too very proudly. You were nervous but he reassured you about how his mom would probably love you and she did, a sigh of relief coming from you when Min ho told you that.

- Your parents, on the other hand, were definitely charmed by him. He knew his way with words and what to say and nonetheless they loved him!

- Study dates in the libraries tended to end up with you giggling at his ridiculous jokes and him teasing you about how you were so cute, making you slap his arm lightly as you would feel your cheeks warm up.

- Playing footsies was always convenient when you were not paying attention to him, too focused on your novel and you just shook your head on the way and stifled your laughter at his pout.

- He was not a jealous person, not at least after you became his. Before sure, he'd glare at those who tried to ask you out, being happy when you turned them down.

- Q reminding him you weren't dating him for him to get jealous but now that you were, he didn't feel the need to get jealous.

- If he felt like someone was looking at you in that way, he'd either wrap his arm around your waist and kiss you cheek, smiling with a certain glint to the other and they got the message alright. Nothing serious but sometimes he can be jealous.

- You, though, you weren't jealous but maybe you tended to get insecure at times. Thinking Min ho could have whoever he wanted yet he chose you as you would find a pretty girl leaning onto him.

But the scoff of disgust as he leaned away, and said something to her which would make her turn around in shame and walk away with her head down, made you look at him, him coming towards your way, smiling as he finally spotted you.

"Hi baby! I was just looking for you." He grinned widely as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, his eyes shining brightly as he looked down at you, in those moments you knew, even if he wanted whoever he wanted, you had him and he had you.

- He's talkative, talking about anything and everything under the sun and moon, you'd give your attention those times, nods of confirmation to questions and gasps of shock when he said something particularly astounding.

- He was grateful to have someone who'd listen to him talk, as simple as that gesture is, he's grateful for that someone to have been you.

- He loves it when you play with his hair as he lays his head on your lap, brushing through his soft locks, easing his worries.

- You love to just cuddle with him when you can, him just holding you when you need it or pulling you onto him from your previous position of sitting beside him on the couch.

- Expect all kinds of date ideas to be pulled off, sometimes by you or by him or even by your friends. Movies, adventure parks, haunted houses, you name it but you think that no matter what, even if you could stare at paint dry on a wall, as long as you have Min ho with you, you couldn't ask for more.

- Despite his cocky moments at times, you sometimes would roll your eyes at him and just sigh softly, or better yet, you love to see his flustered expression whenever you agree on his self praises.

"We all know that my existence is probably the highlight of your day, guys, just admit it." He would say with a smug grin, Q already rolling his eyes and Kitty just scoffing and you replied

"Of course baby, you're the highlight of my life!" You grinned widely at him, chuckling when his ears got a little red and he just nodded "Y-yeah see!"

"I'll be b-back!" You laughed at him,

"Oh he's so whipped for you." Kitty said which only made you laugh more loudly.

- In the end, Min ho was convinced that even if he didn't believe in star crossed lovers, he'd definitely have to thank fate to make someone like you become his.

- And oh Kitty of course.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💗

links : main navi !

#xo kitty #xo kitty min ho #min ho x reader #to all the boys trilogy #netflix #netlix x reader #to all the boys ive loved before #x reader #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader #headcanons #min ho headcanons #min ho fluff #sang heon lee #lee sang heon #he's so bbg 😔#[ pri works ]

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euphoniumpets · 11 months

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the second choice | Nikolai Lantsov x Starkov! reader x Kaz Brekker

Summary: You've always been the second choice and know when you began to grow feelings for nikolai, he chose to propose a marriage to your sister. However, it is not what it seems when you began to grow tired for being the second choice.

Requested? Yes by @kateswone: Could you do a Nikolai x reader one, where there's a lot of pinning and in the rain confession in the end ?

A/N: decided to make it with a starkov! reader in this one and got this inspiration from little women. Listen, i really like Alina in the show and the book but no hate on her in this fic. I made this fic an angst. Wanna have a part two where the reader meets Kaz Brekker?

PART TWO

Warnings: angst and both of them being oblivious to each other.

In all your life, you've always been the second choice to everything. You noticed all of this while your sister was the oldest one and you were merely in the background. You weren't the one who was in the center as your older sister was.

It was at a point where you enjoyed being in the background. You didn't had to deal with the drama and the chaos where your sister and Mal created back in Keramzin. You were a lonely kid and enjoyed your presence.

That all changed when you began to grow feelings for your childhood friend, Mal. He was everything to you since he was always there for you and Alina. He always kept an eye for you, knowing the smallest piece of what you liked and didn't like.

When you grew up and began to be older, you couldn't hold your feelings anymore when the three of you was about to split up in the First Army. You couldn't bear the thought of losing him and being seperated for so long. At that point, you confessed your love for him, only to know that he didn't felt the same and had feelings for Alina.

It broke your heart to pieces, knowing that he had feelings for Alina. You didn't blame her, at one point, you knew that Alina and Mal deserved for each other. But it hurt everytime when you would see the longing in Mal's eyes for her when the three of you were around.

When the three of you split up while Mal was in another unit with the First Army and you and Alina was together as a map maker, you kept your distance for him. Of course, you tried to pretend that didn't happen and tried your best to keep your friendship, but it did hurt.

You and Mal didn't tell Alina about your confession, all though, you had your suspicion that she always knew about it somehow. The three of you didn't spoke about it either.

When Alina was announced to be the Sun Summoner, you knew that your life wouldn't be in the same. You would be in the shadows, alone in the background like when you were children and Alina would be in the center, trying to save the world and doing her best.

Warming up to Aleksander for the first time, you felt that the two of you understood each other. How it felt like to be lonely, hiding in the shadow and eventually, you began to fall for him, just as you did for Mal.

You told yourself that you wouldn't fall for somebody again because you couldn't experience the pain you felt. However, you didn't listen and the heart what it wants, right? And you knew deep down that Aleksander fell for Alina even when you didn't knew that he had the same feelings about you.

But you already knew his choice that his choice would always would be Alina.

And the betrayal that happened when Aleksander expanded the Fold, used the white Stag and Alina's power, you three were on the run again. You knew as long as Alina would be the Sun Summoner, there would be no peace when the Darkling is alive to hunt the three of you.

Not after what happened back at the Fold. So, when you were looking a way out from Novyi Zem, you couldn't believe your luck when you saw a private ship that could be bargained.

Meeting Sturmhond was... strange. He was an odd pirate, a little too young to be a pirate to be exact and most people would say that the pirates would be rude and dirty. But you couldn't put your finger on this one as he helped you, Mal, and Alina to take down the Fold with his crew.

You were a quiet one, but Sturmhond enjoyed your quick wits whenever he would throw a comment toward you. It became a banter between you two that made everybody in the ship roll their eyes and grow annoyed by your remarks.

You only believed that Sturmhond was only playing you, but little did you knew that he had fallen in love with you. He believed that you were capable for so much more than standing in the background. He noticed that you didn't like much attention and that was why he threw snarky comments to see your reaction.

And when he showed his identity for the first time, you didn't hesitate to punch him in the face for lying to you.

After he revealed to be Nikolai Lantsov, the prince of Ravka, you kept your distance from him. You noticed the longing in Nikolai's eyes that he wanted to talk to you, but you ignored it.

And this time, you let Alina and Mal do the work for once while you was in the background. During the meeting when they got David in, you felt his eyes on you the whole time.

You knew David back at the little palace, you liked him, but after everything with Aleksander, you didn't trust him anymore. After leaving Mal and Alina to talk with themselves, you heard Nikolai's footsteps trailing behind you at the Spinning Wheel.

You knew that he was trying to catch up with you, and you only tried to walk away from him with hurried steps. ''Y/N, stop,'' You heard him from behind, but you only kept walking but stopped when you reached on a dead end.

You groaned with frusteration and annoyance and was about to turn around when he was already in front of you. ''Can we talk?'' He asked, uncertianly. You paused, knowing that the two of you would have this talk sooner or later.

You nodded and let him talk. ''I know that I haven't been honest about my identity,'' He spoke. ''But I hope that we can start over,'' Nikolai replied.

''Did you say it was true? Back at the ship?'' You asked him, remembering all of the times you spent with him when everybody was asleep. ''You are always going to be my first,'' Nikolai spoke and smiled softly at you.

''And what about I said of my family is true,''

''Sturmhond and I, we are the same,''

''So, I just supposed to call you Moi Tsar, then?'' You asked and crossed your arms. Nikolai chuckled. ''Just Nikolai,'' He responded.

''Please, I just don't want our relationship to be different because I am the prince,'' Nikolai said to you, and you sighed. ''Fine, just for this one, I'm forgiving you,''

''I knew that you already was softening up to me,'' Nikolai spoke with a teasing grin on his face.

''Shut up,'' You commented.

During the next day when Nikolai had announced to be Alina's husband, you was surprised when Alina would accept the proposal. You couldn't believe your own sister since she loved Mal and you had feelings for Nikolai.

You saw the distraught expression on Mal's expression during the dinner, but you didn't spoke about the marriage the whole evening.

And when it was nighttime and everybody was going to bed, you found yourself to be in front of Nikolai.

''Y/n-''

''Don't,'' You cut him off, shaking your head with disbelief. ''Don't blame her, this is just a political strategi,'' Nikolai defended himself, making you scoff at him. You felt your heart break again, just as it had done million times with Mal and Aleksander.

He looked nervous, an emotion you very rarely saw him during the time you spent with him. ''You had this plan all along, didn't you?'' You asked him. ''Ever since you saw us on the ship, knowing that Alina would be a good alliance to you,'' You replied.

You began to pace and the information was almost too much for you. You thought that you were going to be stronger after every rejection that you had, but you were torn into pieces. ''When were you planning on telling me this?'' You asked.

''Or you didn't want to tell me at all?''

''I was planning to find the right moment,'' Nikolai answered quickly and you shook your head. ''You had plenty of these moments,'' You snapped.

''I know,'' He responded. ''And you want to be king and you want Alina to be your queen,'' You responded.

''I don't want her to be my queen,'' Nikolai spoke. ''Yet, the two of you are going to be married,'' You told him with a firm voice.

''But this doesn't mean anything between me and her! You will always be my first choice,'' Nikolai replied. ''My heart will always belong to you,'' Nikolai admitted.

''Don't say that, you don't mean it,'' You warned him, stopping yoru tracks and faced him. ''I mean it, I love you, and I want to be with you,''

''You can't be with me if you are going to marry Alina or someone else,'' You snapped. You watched as his eyes meet the floor.

''How about be my mistress?'' You stopped and looked at him with shock and then your eyes flashed with fury. He couldn't seriously mean by that. You didn't want to be in that state again when you have to watch him and Alina be in love with each other while you was in the back ground all over again.

''No, I won't do that,''

''I'm not asking for you to be,'' Nikolai responded. ''Then you would let me be in the back ground - again,''

''I want you!'' He shouted, stepping closer to you with anger in his eyes before stopping himself and looked at you like he would burn the whole world for you.

''But it's more complicated than that,'' He responded with a calmer voice this time and you shook your heart. ''You can marry my sister for all I care, and I won't be standing in your way,''

''Just like I've always done,'' You whispered, as you felt the tears streaming down your face.

''Y/N-'' Nikolai begged, grabbing your hand to sto you from going away from him, but you just shrugged his hand away and walked through the door, not sparing a single glance.

That night, you didn't waste a second to run away from the spinning wheel.

#nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov x reader #alina starkov #shadow and bone x reader #aleksander morovoza #malyen oretsev x reader #malyen oretsev #nikolai lantsov x starkov!reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov angst #nikolai lantsov fanfiction

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 8 months

Text

With the last breath

Word count: 1577

Warnings: depression, suicide attempt

Part II

At first, I'm sorry for my English. It isn't my native language, so there are mistakes and maybe it wouldn't give sense. Writing this was a real challenge and it showed me my (language) limits😅

For the first actual fanfiction I post here I'd say it's quite dark. I wrote it after fight with husband as kind of distraction. Well, it served its purpose.

Declaration: I write just for fun✌️

One day you were on a way to deliver some documents to Rhysand. He sent a request to the library to look for certain information he urgently needed and when everything he asked for was collected, Clotho asked you to deliver it to him. As the only person who from time to time didn't mind to go out, you had a good relationship him and knew all of the members of the inner circle. You often worked with them and helped them as you knew the library so well as the back of your hand.

Entering the River House you headed to his office. Clotho had sent him a notice of your visit early in the morning, so you knew where to look for him. As you approached the office door you could hear his voice and the voices of two other males. He was there together with his brothers standing around the table with maps and papers on it and discussing something important. You didn't want to disturb them, so you silently walked through the open door and set the documents on a small table right next to the door. Spymaster's eyes met yours for a second as he was the only one facing the door and he noticed the movement. Finding out it's you, as usually, he lost interest and returned to whatever they were looking at together. Rhys noticed his eyes went up and he also turned to you with a big, kind smile.

„Is that the information I asked for?“

„Yeah, it should be all. I checked it several times to make sure,“ you whispered silently, but he heard you.

„Would you mind to stay for lunch since you've come this far? It would be just three of us, Feyre and Elain,“ Rhys invited you.

Your eyes hastily darted to Azriel. His jaw slightly tightened, but you didn't miss that small move. „I'm afraid I need to return back..“ you tried to smile little.

„Are you already going back? Don't you need escort?“ Cassian turned to you too, offering help.

He and Rhys were kind to you and seemed to be happy to see you whenever you met them. Rhys always asked you to join a meal with his family and sometimes you'd accept it. On the other hand, Spymaster has never bothered to treat you with more than a short look or few casual phrases at the best. Even though he didn't seem to be really fond of you, he tended to sit next to you on a sofa or hold a seat for you next to him at the table. But it was a long time ago. Maybe he noticed you eyeing him with interest and that was the reason his behaviour changed over the years from 'I can tolerate you' to 'such a nuisance'. He personally didn't do nor say anything bad to you. But you could feel it from him somehow. You hadn't much of magic in your blood, but you was able to read any subtle signs and understand how people around you feel. That's the reason you stopped accepting invitations and tried to cross his path as little as possible. In the moments like this it was impossible to avoid meeting him and he seemed to be fine with it, paying you minimum attention. But as soon as somebody asked you to join them for a meal or evening, you could feel a slight discomfort from him. You tried to brush it away, but still it hurt.

When you met him for the first time you were afraid of him. As you got to know inner circle better, you learnt there's actually nothing scary about him and that deep down he is a very kind person. His silent, calm and caring nature appealed to you and before you noticed you fell in love with him. You couldn't help it even though you knew you don't have any chance. Masking it as best as you could, you decided to suffer in silence. You knew about his feeling toward Mor and when Archeron sisters entered your lives you noticed his shift of interest to Elain too. You weren't ugly, but there was no way you could compete with such beauties as the two of them. And you were well aware of that. That's why you've never tried to approach him and talk to him properly and after feeling a kind of discomfort from him in your presence, you tried to keep your distance and avoid him.

You excused yourself as fast as you could and turned around to leave. When you were sure that Rhys and Cass turned back to the table, you allowed yourself a single glance to him over your shoulder. His features were relaxed. He was so painfully beautiful that tears welled up in your eyes and the painful hole in your chest got little bigger.

After meeting him you needed some time to calm down and bury those feelings back so deep that nobody could notice them. You were walking around the city till you were sure you regained your peace. And just then you decided to head back to the library.

When you were climbing up the stairs you heard some muffled voices. You've never spied on other people, but this time you couldn't resist it and peaked to the hall to see who could it be. And there you saw them. Azriel stood with his back against the wall, Elain standing on her tiptoes with arms around his neck leaning into him. They started to kiss, slowly at first, but soon enough their passion took over. You couldn't stand it. Tears stinging your eyes once again, you left as silently as possible. When you were far from them and they couldn't hear you anymore, you run to your room as fast as you could. Closing the door you slid down to the ground unable to stifle your sobs. Knowing he has a thing for somebody else wasn't as painful as to actually see them together. It utterly broke your heart leaving you unable to breathe properly. Your life was pretty simple, you didn't have much. Your love for that male and a little faith you held were basically all you had left and the scene you witnessed totally crushed it all.

It took you hours until you calmed down enough to be able to stand up. You opened the door. You didn't know where to go, but you couldn't stand to be here anymore. Your legs took over the control, marching on their own. Suddenly you found yourself on one of the balconies heavily leaning on the railing. You slightly leaned over the edge looking down. The balcony was so high it made you nauseous. You pulled back to the safety. Spending most of the time in the library you've never gave much thoughts to heights at which you lived. You just occasionally had chance to stop and look out the window. Carefully you sat up on the railing back facing outwards. You tried to take deep breaths to calm down, to get through the pain and the shock. You tilted your head back watching floating clouds. As child you spent hours lying in the grass and watching clouds. It used to be so relaxing, but now you felt nothing, except emptiness. There was a bird flying high above you. You sighed. How beautiful it would be if you could fly. You'd took off flying far from this place, far from these people, far from him. What it must be like to feel so free and weightless. If you lean back little more, you could find out. It would be so nice to fly down, to never have to feel anything anymore. You knew you should be scared to even think about such things, but instead you felt numb.

The bird was getting bigger as it flew closer. You closed eyes and leaned back more and more. Suddenly you felt so light, flying like that bird. Small smile formed on your lips and you stretched out arms like wings.

Azriel was flying back to the House of Wind when he noticed somebody leaning dangerously on the edge of railing on one of the highest balconies. It was strange, but he was tired so at first he didn't pay much attention to it. He looked away just for a moment and the person disappeared. His throat tightened. He immediately plunged headlong down, but he wasn't fast enough. The person was only few meters away from a certain death. He had to winnow. Stepping into shadows he reappeared few foots bellow the person stretching out arms to catch... HER! There was no doubt. It was Y/N. What happened? Why would she do something so horrible? What if he tries to catch her, but she slips through his hands and dies? He'd never been so scared in his entire life. If something were to happen to her, he'd never forgive himself. All sounds of the world disappeared, he could hear only own heart racing in his chest. It took just mere seconds, but it seemed to take forever. The moment her body collided with his, the time had stopped. He squeezed his eyes, muscles tensing, wings spreading to stop their fall.

When he finally dared to open his eyes, there she was safe in his arms, pressed to his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel

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stinkysam · 5 months

Text

Roronoa Zoro - Different.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “It could be with trust. Like it could start of angsty, but finishes with some fluff. For the character it could be with either Luffy or Zoro. I can't decide haha.” - anon

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

To you, there was only one kind of pirate. The bad kind. The kind that ruins people's lives by pillaging and destroying towns. Pirates are destructive and marines are barely better. Assholes who use their authority to do anything they want without any repercussions.

So for you, the only way was being a pirate hunter. To do the job marines (barely) did without being affiliated to them.

Along the way you met another pirate hunter, Roronoa Zoro. Although he mainly did it for the money, you both had the same point of view and quickly became friends. Even working together on a few occasions.

Until you heard he had joined a pirate to become one himself. Betrayed, you went after him for explanations.

You found him in the restaurant Baratie, with what seemed like the rest of his crew. He quickly spotted you, after all, you weren't hiding and nodded hi to you.

You didn't reply, continuing staring and rapidly he knew what this was about. He sighed and said something to his table before standing up and going to yours.

“I don't sit with pirates.” You say, looking at him as he was about to take the chair. He still sat down, after a second of not moving and began to talk.

“I know what you think. But-”

“They're different ?” You raised an eyebrow, already expecting the boring excuses.

He said nothing for a moment.

“Listen, I don't owe you any explanation. Believe what you want but Luffy is not like the pirates you know.”

“I don't believe you.”

“Then don't.” He said and stood up, leaving to go back to his table.

You didn't try to talk to him more, only seeing him again when he fought one of the seven warlords, Dracule Mihawk as you walked out of the restaurant. You stayed, watching his friends’ expressions. Two looked stressed, while one in red looked confident, the three of them too focused to notice you staring.

“Luffy, if I fail to become the world's greatest swordsman… You'll be disappointed. Right ?”

“You could never fail me.” The man in red said.

“Never… again. From now… until I beat him.” He draws his only remaining sword, raising it in the air. “To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again !” He declared, before letting his sword fall to the side, passing out and with that you left.

What you saw of them was too little to make you change your mind. So when you saw their ship leave after some time, you followed them, believing they were leaving to plunder some innocent town like every pirate does.

Until you saw with your own two eyes Luffy freeing Cocoyasi village and all of the Conomi Island from Arlong by defeating him.

You couldn't believe it.

The village had gathered to celebrate their freedom thanks to the small crew and you stood there amongst them, shocked.

You expected pirates like Arlong, they were the kind you knew since your early age. But pirates like Luffy ? It was your first time seeing or hearing about it.

Zoro came toward you, two plates in his hand. One for himself, one for you.

He handed you one, waiting for you to take it.

“...Thanks.” You said, unsure of what else to say as you grabbed the plate.

“Didn't think you'd follow me there.”

“You said they were different.”

“I did.”

“I didn't know it was possible. How did you know ?”

He shrugged, smiling.

“Luffy convinced me.”

“Why didn't you tell me you did that kind of thing ?”

“Would you have believed me if I told you we freed the people of Orange town ?”

“You what ?” You said in disbelief and Zoro chuckled at your reaction.

“An evil clown took the town hostage for his circus. Bunch of weirdos.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, you couldn't believe your ears.

“No. I wouldn't have believed you. Is this true ?”

“Yeah, they captured us because we have the Grand Line map.”

“Damn.” You said quietly, smiling as well. “I'm sorry. I know you're not stupid, I should've trusted your judgment.”

“No, I understand. I would've done the same in your place.”

“No, you would've tried to take my head.”

He laughed at that, nodding.

“Maybe so.” He smirked, glad you two were alright again.

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thestorycomesalive · 6 months

Text

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby

George Weasley x Reader

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You had been suffering from nightmares for a while now. This was nothing new to you. But when you have a nightmare that wakes you up in tears, you find yourself instinctively in front of George's dorm, seeking his comfort.

AKA: George is a softie. Two idiots in love, oblivious pining. Fred and Lee will not stop teasing the two dummies.

Lyrics included from the song: Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby by Cigarettes After Sex

.....

You were not a stranger to nightmares. These terrifying dreams had haunted you since you were very little. But you mostly suffered through them alone. You never wanted to wake anyone else or concern them with your deepest fears and troubles. You guessed a part of you didn’t want to accept that you had these fears at all. So, one cold, autumn night, you found yourself sneaking up to the Astronomy Tower, hoping not to be seen, but daring to do so anyways. For another haunting dream had plagued your sleep just moments ago. These days, they seemed to be getting worse, and your first instinct tonight was to escape and get some fresh air.

As you walked through the entrance of the tower, you felt the breeze flow in through the open walls, chilling your skin and, ever so slightly, whipping your hair. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you approached the opening of the tower. The frigid wind woke you from your sleepiness and seemed to remind your body that you were here. That you were okay. You overlooked the black skyline and closed your eyes, breathing in the burning atmosphere. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. It wasn’t until you heard the sound of the railing creak next to you that you awoke from your hypnotic state. Your eyes opened and you turned to look to where you had just heard the weight of the metal bar on your right, moments before. There stood a tall and sleepy George, adorned in a knitted sweater and sweatpants, arms crossed, as he leaned against the railing next to you. He looked out at the skyline. His expression mirrored the one you had sported before, but his eyes were open as he saw you turn to him in his peripheral vision.

“I honestly thought you might’ve been sleepwalking,” he chuckled as he stared at the darkness ahead of him.

“What are you doing here, Georgie?” you asked, puzzled.

“I could ask you the same thing, love,” he said with a small smile on his face. He turned his head to bring his eyes to meet yours.

You smiled back at him lightly. “I meant, more so, how did you know I’d be here?”

He dramatically placed his hand on his chest and faked shock and offense, his mouth wide. “Who said I knew? Maybe I just needed some fresh air too,” he tested, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Well then it seems great minds think alike,” you laughed at your best friend.

George quickly dropped his act, a mischievous grin on his face. “I’m only kidding. Fred and I borrowed the Marauder’s Map from Harry last night. I couldn’t sleep and gave it a look. I saw you wandering,” he said with a shy grin on his face.

“Bad dream?” you asked him, softly, your eyes slightly become distant at the memory of your own nightmare.

“Nah,” he said. “I had the coffee cake at dinner tonight. I ate so much of it, I could’ve run the entire quidditch field twenty times over,” he chuckled. He took in your slightly distant eyes as you laughed slightly at his response. “You?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah. It was stupid. I just needed a change of scenery,” you sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently as he wrapped his arm around your shivering form, pulling you into him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“It’s okay. It was nothing,” you lied. You leaned your head into George’s shoulder, your heart doing cartwheels at the unexpected contact from him. You, the twins, and Lee had been best friends since your first year, but it didn’t take long for your friendship with George to quickly blossom into more, in your heart. You had fallen for him completely, but you knew you would never utter a word about it out of fear of losing your best friend in the whole entire world.

Oblivious to you, George felt the same exact way. He loved everything about you. The way your hair bounced when you walked, the glisten in your eyes when you looked at him, the way you tilted your head slightly when you laughed, the sound of your voice. Everything. He had entirely fallen for you over the years. What started as a simple crush in his first year, never subsided. Rather it took his body and soul by storm. He felt warm whenever you were near. His heart skipped in his chest and his knees weakened. But how could he ever tell his best friend that he was completely and entirely in love with her? He thought that you would likely feel obligated to awkwardly thank him, never to talk to him again. And to him, a world in pining and longing with you in it, was better than one in relief without you there.

He felt his heart rate patter as you reciprocated his touch and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Aren’t you cold out here?” he asked quietly.

“A little bit,” you smiled up at him. “But I don’t mind it.”

George hesitated. He wanted to just take you completely into his arms and hold you through the cold, sharp wind. But he didn’t want to scare you away. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. He settled upon simply draping his other arm over you gently rubbing up and down your arm to generate some heat to you.

Your legs nearly gave out from the feeling of his touch. You and George had hugged many times before, but this time, he was so close to actually holding you. You wanted nothing more. You loved the feeling of George’s strong arms around you and his large hand running along your arm. You decided to be a little bit brave as you tucked into him a little bit more, wrapping your arms around his waist, your cheek in his sweater.

George’s arms froze in surprise as you curled yourself into him. He felt his cheeks flush red with warmth as he tried his best to bring himself back to reality. He moved his frigid arms to gently wrap around you, squeezing you to him. “Is… is that a little bit warmer?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Much. Thank you,” you smiled up at him as your own face flushed red with longing and bashfulness.

The two of you stayed that way for another half an hour or so, neither wanting to let go of the other. But when you let out a yawn, George looked down at you, a gentle smile on his face.

“We should probably get you to bed,” he rubbed your arm gently, in his embrace.

“You too,” you said, looking up at him with a sleepy smile.

The two of you walked back to the Common Room where George walked you up to the door of your dorm. George stood there awkwardly, his arms at his side as he bid you goodnight. Everything in him wanted to pull you into him again, to hug you. His arms felt so empty without you. Hell, he wanted so badly to kiss you. To feel your lips against his gently as you parted ways for the night, but his mind convinced him against it. What he didn’t expect was for you to take a step closer to him and to move up on your tiptoes. He didn’t expect you to wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear. But you did.

“Goodnight, Georgie. Thank you for everything,” you said sweetly as you hugged the boy you loved so dearly. You wished you could ask him to stay. You wanted him to hold you all night, but you convinced yourself that you had to let him go. He wrapped his arms around you in return, his eyes wide in surprise as he spoke, “N…No problem, goodnight.”

And you parted ways.

******

In the coming days, neither George nor you brought up that night to anyone. Not to your friends, not to each other. To you, it was a beautiful memory that you would cherish forever. You didn’t want to share it with anyone else. You didn’t want it to belong to anyone but you. You wanted it all to yourself… and to him. You survived on small, happy moments like that with George. Moments where you allowed yourself to feel all of the love you had for the boy fully and completely. You knew you would never be able to confess your feelings to him, so this is how you would live. Off of every happy and soft moment you could possibly get with the gentle, ginger boy. And although you two never spoke of that wonderful, simple night, you always found your place next to him, and he always found his next to you.

Fred and Lee had constantly teased the two of you on the subject. Anytime you had to choose partners for a project in Potions, Fred would utter an “Oi, ten galleons I can tell you where George is headed as soon as Snape lets us up." This would earn him a glare and an eye roll from George and a snort from Lee. Another time, at the end of a long, random day, you were writing in the Common Room with your friends, and your legs found themselves draped over George’s. You sat horizontally on one side of the sofa, and he sat facing forward, his hand mindlessly holding your ankle in place, in his lap.

This wasn’t something unnormal for the two of you. George and you had a sort of magnetic force and you always seemed to be engaged in the smallest motions of physical touch in some way. You were never as close as you had been that night in the astronomy tower, but you were nearly always touching, none the less. The domestic picture of you and George instinctively sitting together on the couch, had Fred rolling on the floor laughing. Lee was trying to shush him, not wanting to embarrass either of you, however this seemed to be a fruitless prospect. The two boys couldn’t understand how oblivious you and George both were. It was obvious to your best friends that you liked each other, but no matter how many times they tried to convince each one of you, you never seemed to believe that it could be remotely possible. They could’ve given both of you Veritaserum and forced you to confess your love plain and simple, and both of you would probably still be too blind to see it.

“A little bit comfortable, are we there, Y/N?” Fred asked you, eyebrows wiggling in a teasing manner.

Your face flushed completely red, giving away your thoughts on the matter right away, to everyone but George.

“Don’t worry, I think our Georgie likes it,” Fred said, shooting a wink to George.

It was George’s turn to flush red with embarrassment. He took a pillow from next to him on the sofa and launched it at Fred’s face, causing him to roll back, holding his stomach as he laughed uncontrollably. Lee joined in on the chuckle and playfully slapped Fred’s arm.

“I think it’s sweet,” Lee said, laughing still.

George and you said nothing as you both found your hands to suddenly become increasingly interesting, trying to diffuse the situation in your minds.

*****

The next day, you had dropped your books all over the stairs as you were walking with Fred, Lee, and George from Transfiguration. A first year Hufflepuff had accidentally bumped into you as it was clear she was running late to her next class, and she wasn’t looking where she was going. As your books tumbled down the stairs, she apologetically called out to you.

“I’m so sorry!” She automatically turned down the stairs to head back down to help you retrieve the books she had thrown from your hand, disregarding her rush. But you gently smiled at her and stopped her in her tracks.

“It’s okay, darling. Go on, I’ve got it,” you said as gave her a reassuring wave onwards and a bright smile.

She thanked you quickly and nodded, as she returned to rushing up the stairs. As you turned back to look down at the books you had dropped, you saw that George was already bent down collecting them. He had a smile on his face as he had just watched the interaction you had had with the little Hufflepuff girl. You bent down too, collecting the last two books, as George placed the remainder of them into your hands.

“Here you go,” he said.

“Thanks, Georgie,” you smiled at him. His hand brushed against yours as he placed the books into your possession. He let them linger there, as you both stared at each other for a fraction of a moment.

“Good grief!” You were pulled out of your trance by Fred who had his arms crossed and eyebrow raised. Lee was next to him as they had turned to see what had kept you two from following them down the stairs. “Get a room, you two!” he shouted up at you as other students passed by.

You both immediately shot up from the ground, your faces heated, and your vision slightly blurred from embarrassment.

As the two of you headed down the stairs to catch up with Fred and Lee, Lee elbowed you playfully and whispered, “Your hero to the rescue.”

You lightly, and playfully slapped him on the shoulder with one of the smaller books in your arms as you exclaimed, “At least he helped me! You lot just stood there and watched.”

Lee laughed as he tried to dodge your whacks to his shoulder. “It’s more fun that way! Besides, it looked like George was eager to help. You didn’t need us.”

*****

The teasing never did stop and your feelings for George only grew and grew. You weren’t sure how it was possible to be so enamored with anyone. But here you were, living proof that it was not only possible, but real.

After a particularly stressful day, you curled up in your bed and tried to think of pleasant thoughts to lull you to sleep. Most of the thoughts consisted of George. You eventually found yourself counting each individual thing you loved most about him, which could honestly take you forever. You figured it was like counting sheep. You weren’t intent on ever finishing your count, but rather falling asleep in the middle of it. Today had been a day of rarity. Everything seemed to go wrong. You failed your Potions exam, and you had gotten scolded by Professor McGonagall because you had slept in too late, missed breakfast and nearly missed the first half of her class. You were usually a pretty decent student, but your nightmares had been keeping you up at night, making it hard for you to focus and stay awake in class. Which, of course, now that you actually wanted to go to sleep, your body had to make it as difficult as possible for you to do.

You had drifted off into a deep sleep at some point, somewhere between recounting the sound of George’s laugh and the deep color of his eyes. But your sleep didn’t last long as you began tossing and turning, shooting up in a cold sweat. You were shaking and… crying? You reached up to touch your cheeks. You were definitely crying. Quiet sobs wracked from your body, as you covered your mouth, trying your best not to wake your dorm mates. You had to leave. You had to escape. But there was only one place you wanted to go. The Astronomy Tower hadn’t even crossed your mind this time.

In a daze, your feet subconsciously carried you down the stairs, up another set, and stopped in front of a large, brown, wooden door. Normally, your brain would’ve told you that it was wrong to enter people’s rooms uninvited. Your brain would’ve reminded you that you were crossing a boundary and that you were completely disregarding other peoples’ privacy. But tonight, there was only one thought playing over and over in your mind. You creaked the door open and quietly shut it behind you. It was like you were on autopilot as you made your way to the side of a bed, George’s beautiful, sleeping frame facing you.

Tears were still flowing down your face, but your sobs had stopped now that you could see him here. You gently, nervously brought your hand to his shoulder and shook it softly. “Georgie…” you squeaked out.

George’s eyes fluttered open in a confused daze. He took in his surroundings for a moment and when he saw you standing there, his heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through him. He thought for sure, he must be dreaming. There was no way that you were actually here, right in front of his bed, in the quiet of the night.

“Y/N/N…” he called out, brows furrowed in confusion. As the moonlight shone in from the window, he finally caught a glimpse of the tears that stained your face and the sadness in your eyes. He sat up immediately, his hand reaching for your cheek as he wiped your tears away.

“Oh, love. What’s wrong?” he murmured to you. “Another bad dream?” he asked, softly.

Concern filled his eyes. It split his heart into two seeing you this sad and frightened. You simply nodded your head in response, like a petrified doe in headlights.

“Do you wanna take a walk? We can go to the Astronomy Tower.” he offered gently, pushing his blankets off of him.

You didn’t want to be anywhere but right here, with him. You mustered up the courage, or rather cowardly gave in to the urge that was telling you to ask George a question that could quite possibly put your friendship on the line. You shook your head.

“Can…” you took a deep, unhelpful breath, “can I stay with you?” you looked up at him with defeated eyes, searching his for any sign that you had just crossed a line.

His eyes went wide. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe that you were here, and he really couldn’t believe what you were asking him. He nodded his head quickly.

“Of course,” he whispered hurriedly. Without hesitation, he moved over to make room in his bed for you, lifting the covers as an invitation for you.

You sighed out in relief and disbelief. He had actually said yes. You hadn’t ruined anything. You gently laid yourself down as George sat there awkwardly next to you, afraid to touch you as if the act would send you running. He didn’t want to do anything to scare you off or make you feel like you had to leave him. But he wanted to move. He wanted to hold you, to run his hands through your hair and tell you that everything would be okay. That he would keep you safe.

But you couldn’t hold back. You had no sense of logic tonight. You only knew that you need to see George, to feel him. You needed to hear his heartbeat and know that he was there. You moved your head to rest on his chest, curling your legs closer to your stomach. You could feel him tense up and you hoped that you didn’t make him uncomfortable. Your own body tensed when you felt his apprehension.

George was feeling an immense number of emotions. He was in complete shock at the close proximity you had placed yourself into him, but he also felt his entire body melt at the sensation. Now was his chance. He could finally give into all of the urges he had felt pile up inside him just moments ago. Well, at least a select few of them. He allowed his arm to curl underneath you, pushing you closer to him, bringing his other arm around you, over your side, completely enveloping you in his embrace.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” he whispered as he held you in his strong arms.

You had been holding your breath, waiting to see George’s reaction to your embrace. When he didn’t respond right away, you felt your heart drop and your eyes begin to water once more, but when he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him, you breathed out and snuggled in closer to him, as he whispered to you. You listened carefully to the pattern of his heartbeat, as if it was your lifeline keeping you tied to reality. He felt you sigh into him and whispered to you once more.

“Nothing’s going to hurt you. As long as you’re with me you’ll be just fine.”

And you truly believed that. As long as George was here, you would always be okay. Which is why losing him felt like the most frightening thing in the world to you.

“Thank you, Georgie,” you whispered, as you felt yourself creeping into a deep sleep, listening to his heartbeat, feeling your lifeline in the arms of the man that you loved so dearly.

He tossed the idea of kissing the top of your head around in his mind. It was a big risk and normally he would turn the thought away, but tonight was a night full of new progressions and big chances. So, he did it. He gently kissed the top of your head and waited with bated breath to see how you would react.

Your mouth turned up into a gentle smile that you pressed into his chest. You took one of your legs and curled it around his, entangling the two of you together. He couldn’t hide the huge smile that grew on his face and the rapid increase of his heartbeat that you had been listening intently to. He didn’t sleep much that night, going in and out, in the awe of having you curled into him. He wanted to soak up every minute that you were entangled with him, in his arms.

******

When the morning arrived, George had finally fallen asleep, arms still wrapped around your body. He awoke quickly to a loud shout from Fred.

“BLOODY HELL!” Fred shouted as his face was mere inches away from George’s own.

George startled awake, nearly jolting from the image of his brother’s shocked face so close to his.

“George, I think you have a visitor!” Lee said from across the room, grinning widely at the scene before him.

“Your ‘best friend’ is sleeping in your bed, ole’ Georgie!” Fred shouted at him, rolling his eyes sarcastically at his own use of the term best friend, taunting George who had always insisted your relationship was platonic. “Better yet! She’s laying on top of you! Do you treat all of your friends like that? Because I assure you, Lee and I want no part of that!” Fred teased George loudly, still in shock from the scene in front of him. He was nearly bouncing up and down with excitement at the prospect of his brother and his best friend finally owning up to their feelings for each other. George quickly looked down at you, hoping Fred hadn’t awoken you. But you had been so tired from your nights of missed sleep, that you were still as a rock, breathing shallow as you continued into your unconsciousness.

“Will. You. Quit. It?!” George whispered furiously as he launched the pillow next to him straight into Fred’s face.

Fred rolled back off of his bed as the pillow met his face, laughing maniacally as he did so.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he whispered stubbornly. “She had a bad dream.”

“And so she had to come find her sweet, heroic Georgie to comfort her?” Fred taunted as he crossed his arms in front of himself.

“Come on, George. Why won’t you accept that she likes you too?” Lee asked George, supportively.

“Aren’t you two late for breakfast?” George shot back.

“Oooo, I see. Georgie wants alone time with his lady,” Fred teased as he gave George a big wink.

“Come on, Fred. Let her sleep. We’ll meet you two down there,” laughed Lee playfully.

George nodded and Lee and Fred began to exit the dorm room. However, Fred purposefully slammed the door shut on the way out trying to wake you , making George glare sharply at the other side of the door. George could hear Fred’s evil laugh fade as he raced down the stairs. Fred’s plot had worked. The jolt of the door jostled you awake. Your eyes shot open as you took in your surroundings for a moment. You lifted your head, your face flushing red as the memories of the night before came rushing back to you. You sat up and turned to George. He smiled at you.

“George…I’m so sorry,” you started. “I shouldn’t have let myself in last night.”

George felt his heart drop. Did you regret coming to see him? Staying with him?

“Oh,” George said. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I really don’t mind,” he tested.

You smiled, a bit relieved. “Thank you for everything. You don’t know how much I needed that.” You weighed your words carefully.

George felt his heart lift back up, at your words. Hope filled his chest. “Of course, love. I will always be here for you. Anytime you need me.”

Your smile burned brighter. Did he really mean that? Anytime? If you could have it your way, you would always be curled into the tall boy. And although you didn’t know it, he wished for exactly the same thing.

“Thank you, Georgie. You know, I’m always here for you too,” you said softly as you placed your hand gently on top of his.

He smiled at you in pure adoration. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked, his brows furrowing as his eyes searched yours.

You realized he was referring to your nightmare that you had encountered the night before. You had previously turned down the opportunity to talk about your nightmares to him before, so he was surprised when you released a sigh and spoke up. You felt he deserved an explanation.

“It was the worst dream I think I’ve ever had. It felt so real… so terrifying.” Your eyes became distant as you recalled your dream that had frightened you to your deepest core.

“What was it?” he whispered, as he brushed his hand against your cheek in an attempt to comfort you.

You leaned into his touch. “It was you, Georgie. I dreamt I lost you. It was like my whole world fell apart. That’s why…” you started and sighed, “I had to know you were okay. That you were here.”

He felt his chest twist and his brows furrow as his he began to open his mouth to speak, but stopped, speechless. You had dreamt about him. Your most terrifying dream was losing him. He knew just how much you mattered to him, but was it possible he meant just as much to you? “I’m here,” he said. “I will always be here for you. Nothing could ever keep me from you, Y/N.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your cheek into his chest as you hugged him. You then pulled away and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“Thank you, Georgie,” you simply murmured.

His face turned bright red in shock and love. Your own face flushed at the realization of what you had just done. It had come so naturally, in the moment, that you hadn’t even thought twice about it. You cleared your throat gently, as a smile creeped up onto George’s face.

“I should apologize to Fred and Lee for crashing their room without asking,” you laughed, embarrassed.

“It’s my room too,” he said. “And in my opinion, you are perfectly welcome whenever you want.”

The two of you decided that even though you were significantly late to breakfast, you would still make your way to the Great Hall. You had run off to your dorm to change into your clothes for the day and planned to meet up with George near the Portrait of the Common Room. Eventually, when you came down the stairs and found George waiting for you, you gave him a small smile as you skipped to his side. He watched you walk to his side with a look of awe on his face. You looked so beautiful, as always.

You made your way to the Great Hall, the two of you mentally preparing for Fred’s teasing. But, Merlin, was it worth it. You had planned to apologize to Fred and Lee for crashing in their dorm, but as you and George walked side by side into the Great Hall, the wide, goofy grins on their faces when they made eye contact with you, told you they would take your apology just fine. It also told you that you were in for a rough day of pestering and flustered faces. Hell, the way they were looking at you two this time, this one would probably last weeks.

#george weasley #george weasly x reader #harry potter #george and fred #weasley twins #angst #hurt/comfort

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visit-ba-sing-se · 1 year

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misread a prompt about being the last human on earth. still wrote a short story. enjoy.

My name is Sophie Smith. I am the last human on earth, and this is my report for June 28, 2070, day 456 of monitoring. General population: one. Changes since the last report: none. Maintenance work completed.

I save the file for today's report on my memory implant and shift my focus back to the monitor in front of me. A familiar black screen with a familiar white outline of the world map. One small red dot keeps blinking on it, in the middle of a region described as "European Union." If you were to zoom in, you would see that it is located in the middle of a town called Berlin, marked as the capital of a state called Germany.

Not that those things still mean anything anymore.

Zooming out again and seeing the empty map, it seems strange they ever did.

At the beginning back in 2069, there used to be 8.9 Billion red dots. One for every beating heart, monitored from above by space-link satellites. Now only mine remains.

I had singed up to monitor them quite early after the omega variant broke. After wasting years of my life on a - in face of the apocalypse utterly worthless - degree and an even more worthless PhD thesis, it felt like doing something real, and the task was simple: Monitor the development, stay in touch with the other stations all around the world and file a report for each shift.

At first, there were many of us, all in some way believing that we would help save humanity by observing trends and giving out warnings. Instead, we just became the chroniclers of it's decay.

Many didn't even fully witness the first month. The virus was cruel, but at least it took you fast.

You could leave your house feeling great in the morning, only to collapse coughing on the sidewalk before arriving at your bus stop. Or you could get up to make tea in the isolation of your own home, all doors closed and windows shut, and grasp for air on the kitchen floor minutes later. There was no cure, no vaccine, no distancing measure that helped. The virus cut through us like a scythe through a field of weeds, and it soon was more than clear that no amount monitoring would change that. Some volunteers quit. More died. But through a weird twist of fate, I stayed alive.

And I kept going to work, day after day after day, even after the government that had hired me stopped existing, the subway train I used to take became a fighting ground for rats and my shadow was the only one left to walk beside me in the once busy city streets.

And so did the others, who, when I called in "here Berlin, please respond" answered me with "here Warsaw" "here Seoul" "here Mexico-City" "here Tel Aviv". And the less we were, the more we talked. About our lives before. About the people we had loved and lost, about the places we had called home and the dreams we had dreamed, about our favourite books and movies and dishes, about god and fate and about which birds who saw outside their window.

Mostly, I think, it wasn't about what was spoken. It was about hearing another human voice, and the reassurance that you weren't alone that came with it.

And so, we were there to witness as one by one, more of the blinking red dots disappeared. Just like one by one, someone else among us started to cough. It was an unwritten, unspoken and yet unbreakable rule that none of the rest commented when it happened. Some decided to ignore it until their last moments. Most said goodbye. One of us, Alexey, fircely insisted the air in his office was simply too dry when he got the cough. Of course, we all wanted to believe that it was. But only minutes later, the transmission from his channel ended, and one of the at this point 5 remaining red dots in Kyiv vanished.

Like all of theirs did, eventually.

And yet.

"Here Berlin, please respond", I whisper. For the protocol. For the false, poisonous hope that there has been some kind of bug in the system and that someone might still answer. Of course, no one does.

And even though I expected it, the following silence crushes me once again. A lonely tear rolls down my cheek as I rip the headphones off. Just like the voices in them used to be the undeniable proof that I wasn't alone, the static in the channel now is the undeniable proof that I am.

To distract myself, I get up and open the window. It would be easy to jump onto the empty street and make a final exit like that. All things considered, it's a miracle I am still sane enough to not consider this opinion. Even though… probably at this point death would be the sane choice. But something in me still wants to keep going, wants to hold out for as long as I can. It might be irrational, but I feel like this is what I am owe them. All 8.9 Billion.

Unaffected by my dark thoughts and humanities decay, a small sparrow lands on the window stil. It must have flown over from the tree across the street, where a family of them has build their nest.

Diah would have loved to hear that their little ones are now learning to fly.

Diah. She was last one to leave, and the pain of loosing her still feels like a fresh wound. It had only been us for quite some time, and we had stopped logging out or even taking off our headphones. We even, of course disguised as jokes, had started planning how we could meet. We could find a still functional high-speed train and somehow make it work. We could both steal cars. We would just start walking towards each other and meet in the middle between New Delhi and Berlin.

But of course, we wouldn't. And when her time came, the virus didn't even give a warning. One moment, I was listening to her beautiful voice. The next, there was silence. And only one blinking dot left on the monitor. Maybe she didn't even notice that she died. Only I did. Like I noticed so many deaths before. Maybe that is the only advantage of my situation now. The only death I still will have to witness is my own.

Before I can sink deeper into my thoughts, suddenly, I see them. Or to be precise, actually, I hear them first. Voices. Human voices. "I still can't believe it's only been two years since we left," one of them says, "Just look at this mess. Good thing we got out of here early." "Right?!" the other one responds laughing. "And I thought the time on board was stressful, especially towards the end. But it's nothing against whatever the hell happened here."

Humans. Walking, talking, joking humans.

This can't be real. I rush to look at the monitor. Still only one lonely dot. I must have finally gone insane, not being able to stand the thought that I was last anymore. But when I lurk outside again, they are still there, and now close enough for me to recognize more details. Black uniforms with a silver star, black face masks and both carrying a PreciseWeapon. Space-link personal.

Days ago, Diah and I both saw what we had believed to be a small meteor. Instead, it must have been their shuttle entering the atmosphere. I am not insane. This makes sense. This is real. I know that probably should feel relief. Or happiness. Or pride. It surely would make sense to feel that way. After all, I just learned that humanity might still prevail despite everything.

This should be a triumph, or least salvation. And yet, all it feels like is betrayal. "Two years since we left" the man had said. Two years ago, the omega variant hadn't even been discovered. Or at least so I had thought.

'Thank God we got out of here early.'

They knew all along, soon and well enough to "get out early". If the earth had been a house on fire during the last years - as often depicted in political cartoons back when there were still people who drew such things and other who looked at it- they had always known the fire would come. But instead of warning the rest of us, they had snuk out of the house at night, watching it go up in flames from a safe distance. And now, where the dust had settled, they had come back to inspect the ruins and dig through the remains. Only that I was still here. A living dead, covered in ashes with burns on my skin. Still breathing, but surely not nice to look at. So why would they come to pick me up now?

Suddenly, the dominos cascade in line and I sink back into my chair as the realization hits me. They are space-link. The satellites are space-link. They don't show up on the monitor because they are not supposed to. And the PreciseWeapon is meant for me. I shiver. That's why Diah died so sudden and silent.

The virus didn't get her. They did, with one precise shot in the back.

For a moment, I consider running. But just a moment. They could easily track me, and I don't want to spent my last moments being dragged out of a hiding place, nor do I want a bullet in the back.

No.

I want them to look me in the eye. And I want them to know that I know.

I get up from my desk and turn away from the black monitor with the lonely red dot. The door swings open, and the black uniforms enter. They look just like you would think they'd look. Painfully ordinary, with faces reddened by excitement. For just a moment, I see a hint of surprise in their eyes. Then, the uniform on the right nods at the uniform on the left, who reaches for his weapon. If he feels any doubt, he is good at hiding it.

"Go ahead." I say. My voice is calm and firm. I can't say much, not in the short time it takes him to charge, aim and fire. But what I say, I mean. "I already died 8.9 billion times. One more won't matter."

I feel a numb pain as the projectile hits my chest, and then the edge of my table as I stumble backwards against it. And then, just before I hit the ground and my senses fade, I hear it. A cough. A familiar, dry cough. A cough I heard more times than I could count. And that is now coming from the direction of my shooter.

My name is Sophie Smith. I am the last human on earth. And this concludes my final report.

#Writing #writers on tumblr #My writing #Short story #I really want to post this but I am also scared... really hope you like i #Please reblog if you do #Death tw

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bohemian-nights · 1 year

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Arlī(Anew)-Chapter 2

Word Count: ~3,458 words

Rating: 18+

Warnings⚠️: Uncle/niece incest; Mention of oral sex

Description: Dragonstone was the place of Naerys birth, but it did not feel like home.

AN: This story takes place from episode 5 onward. I’ve changed things up a bit but I’ve kept the timeline intact.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

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115 AC- Dragonstone

Dragonstone was the place of Naerys birth, but it did not feel like home. Nearly everything about the seat of her ancestors' was grim. The island itself was bleak with the smell of smoke lingering in the air. Aegon I was said to have enjoyed the smell. The princess found the smell headache-inducing if she was outside for too long. The actual castle was even more dreary. One could not turn their head without meeting a dragon motif or statue carved within the walls. Talons, wings, tails, and fire encircling every surface.

Her new husband had taken his mistress and set up camp upon her family’s ancestral seat some years back, but he was gone within half a year. The castle had not been occupied since. Naerys uncle the king meant to give the island to her cousin Rhaenyra as his heir, but it had remained unclaimed. It was little wonder Rhaenyra had not taken up residence there.

The island held little apart from dragonglass which was worth next to nothing. The small fishing village and port at the base of the island boasted of little trade. Dragonstone stood more as a testament to the might and reach that Valyria once held in the known world rather than a proper home in which she was expected to raise children.

Naerys new home was so unlike Hightide. Her uncle's seat held life within its white stone walls. Even her Velaryon family’s ancestral seat of Driftmark seemed less gray than Naerys current residence.

Naerys pondered on why her uncle had asked for the old outpost in the first place. She hadn’t wanted to ask why he had, but curiosity got the better of her after their nightly Valyrian lessons one evening. Lessons that Daemon had insisted upon as he had wanted to rectify her education which he saw was less than fit for a Targaryen bride.

“You have been learning Valyrian since you were a babe and yet your cousin Aemond has a better command of our ancestors' tongue” Daemon had sneered at her. A boy of five name days with Hightower for a mother. Her uncle saw her young cousins as little better than bastards. Naerys was of pure Valyrian blood. Her mother had been of house Velaryon and her father was a Targaryen. She should know better.

Daemon had threatened to take her over his knee and spank her when she had mispronounced words. Several times in fact. She had begun to wonder if he would actually make good on his word until he made her strip naked to recite the Valyrian alphabet after she had mixed up some of the letters.

The punishment had been effective. Her Valyrian had improved greatly since that humiliating night. Naerys had managed to please him by reciting a chapter in Valyrian. It was a children's book, but she had done it all the same and Daemon rewarded her with an answer to the mystery, to Naerys at least, behind why he had chosen Dragonstone for them.

“My brother believes that dreams made us kings.” Naerys knew that Daemon greatly cared for his brother, but her husband took little stock in his beliefs. “Dreams saved us from The Doom. Dragons made us kings.”

Her husband motioned to the painted table in front of them. They would often take lessons in its chamber. As if to emphasize his point further, he placed a wooden piece down on the table. The spot that depicted Dragonstone was a mere speck on the map of Westeros in comparison to even Driftmark, but from the island where they stood, Aegon and sister wives were able to conquer kingdoms. Kingdoms that had stood undisturbed for thousands of years

Daemon was not a hard man to understand. She knew that he saw her as little more than a vessel that would bring his own children into this world. It was the reason why he would spend their nights perfecting her Valyrian or why he would praise her for her dragon-riding abilities. Her blood was the reason why she was chosen. It was too soon to panic, but Naerys felt like she was failing to do her duty as a wife.

“These things take time my prince,” Maester Orlys had said after her latest moonblood’s appearance. Five moons into their marriage and she was not yet with child. “The princess is young.” Dragonstone was hardly a place of excitement. Visitors were few and far between.

Naerys had tried to make friends with some of her maids, but Daemon had laughed when she had told him of it. There was no one who was her equal on the island apart from her husband and he barely acknowledged her presence outside of their Valyrian lessons, their weekly dragon rides, or when he tried to put a babe in her.

“Perhaps a change in scenery might do her some good.” Driftmark and Kings Landing were suggested.

Naerys doubted they would journey to court anytime soon. Her uncle grew sicker by the day. His hand, Lord Lyonel Strong, and the small council ruled mostly in his stead. Although Lord Strong was no Otto Hightower, her new husband cared little for her brother's new hand.

“He’s a dull brute sweetling,” was his simple reply when she had asked why he disliked the hand at dinner two moons after their arrival. He had been in one of his better moods. They had gone riding that evening. The rest of their meal, however, was a quiet affair. Daemon sent her to bed once she had finished with an absent-minded kiss.

Naerys would later find out from Rhaenyra during one of her visits, which were far too frequent for the young princess’s taste, that her husband partly blamed Lord Strong for his second banishment from court. He had been the one to suggest that her husband’s head be taken for the alleged defilement of the crown princess. Only the king's love for his rogue brother had saved him.

Daemon conceded to their maesters advice. They were set to leave for Driftmark, when a raven from her aunt Princess Rhaenys arrived. Laena had gone into labor and had chosen to give birth upon Driftmark's shores. Her husband, Lord Strong's eldest son Ser Harwin, had gone with her. Daemon was not overly fond of the lord’s son either. Their journey was canceled. Ser Vaemond, Naerys mother’s brother, was sent for instead.

Her uncle's party was a lively bunch. The spirited knight had brought his lady wife, a pleasantly plump woman with a penchant for gossip, his sons who were just as arrogant as their father, their wives rather plain things, and his grandchildren with him. They had filled up Dragonstone's dreary halls bringing with them much-needed cheer. Not since the early days of King Jaehaerys rule did Naerys believe that its halls had been graced with such life. Even Daemon seemed to enjoy their company.

“If you will recall my prince,” Ser Vaemond had begun as he and Daemon sat by the fire five days into his stay. The two had been laughing and drinking beforehand. Recollecting on their war days mostly, but the merriment had stopped with her uncle’s next words.

“My late sister was always a sickly woman. I believe our dear little Naerys has inherited her constitution.” Ser Vaemond had always been a prideful man. Daring to speak his mind no matter the cost, especially with some liquid courage in his belly.

Daemon drifted his violet gaze toward where his young bride sat on the other side of their hall playing a game of Cyvasse with one of her cousins. His hands gripping the armrest of his chair with enough intensity to turn his knuckles white. Naerys attempted to keep her concentration on the game, but Vaemond was as loud as he was boastful.

“It is a shame that your brother would not allow you to take Rhaenyra as your second wife.” His dark brow was glistening with sweat as he took another sip of Dornish red. From the corner of her eyes, Naerys could see that barely contained storm brewed upon her husband’s face.

Ser Vaemond was either too drunk to care or did not notice her husband's increasing irritation with him. “She would have given you sons by now.” The hall went silent. Her uncle’s words were quite clear. Daemon would have had his heirs. Sons that would have one day inherited the iron throne. Instead, he was stuck with a sickly little bride who had yet to give him so much as a daughter.

“Mind your tongue Ser Vaemond lest you lose it.” Her husband's face had turned to stone as he stood up to tower over the drunken man. “Your sister gave my brother Naerys. My wife, your niece, will be the one to give me my heirs.” Daemon stormed over to where Naerys sat, snatching her from the game, wordlessly taking her to her chambers.

Daemon lovemaking had been vigorous. Her husband has always been passionate; he was more dragon than man some days, but Naerys had never been on the receiving end of his intensity. His fire was usually reserved for the training yard. His affections both frightened and thrilled Naerys more than she liked to admit.

Daemon had only stopped that night when she had made the mistake of grazing the scars at the base of his neck after she had pulled him up from between her legs for a kiss. It had been an accident of course. Her uncle made her taste herself on his tongue a couple of times before, but he had always pinned her arms above her head when he had.

Naerys had been distracted by the taste of her slick on his lips when he had yanked her hand from his neck. Her husband had redressed quickly and was out the door dismissing her apologies without so much as a glance spared her way.

Ser Vaemond made no move to give Daemon his opinions on anything else. He had taken to avoiding the prince altogether for the rest of the duration of his stay, but the damage had been done. In the weeks since her uncle’s visit. Naerys felt more alone than ever.

Daemon had ceased their Valyrian lessons. He had cited that her Valyrian was “adequate enough.” His visits to her chambers were few and far between and never with the same intensity that he displayed that ill-favored night. Even their rides over Blackwater Bay had come to a halt.

Naerys felt herself growing restless. The weather had not helped. It had been raining for the past week. Daemon had forbidden her from flying. Naerys had not ridden in a storm. She was simply not experienced enough to navigate the open waters of the bay in one.

“It will rain today sweetling,” her husband said as he came into her chambers, interrupting her breakfast. It was the first time he had spoken to her in two days. Daemon always knew what she was up to. She suspected that one of her maids was a spy of his. “Best to stay in the library.”

“I am not a doll kepus.” Daemon had requested she call “valzȳrys” him after she saw fit to call an “uēpa vala” once she had learned how to properly pronounce the words. Naerys had begun to call him “kepus” as a compromise. It was only fitting since he treated her as if she was an errant child one moment and a misguided wife the next. “Nor am I your child.”

“Of course not. You're my wife Naerys.” It was said in a teasing tone as he inspected some of her silver curls that had loosened from a braid in her sleep. Naerys did not miss the look he gave. The same look a parent might give to a child when they do not want to be questioned. However, Naerys would not back down this time. Rain or no rain she planned on going for a ride. She needed the fresh air. She had been cooped up inside Dragonstone’s walls for far too long.

“I will accompany you.” Daemon left the room before she could voice her objections.

Rhaenys had taken Naerys to claim Silverwing for her dragon mount on the eve of her fifteenth name day. The dragon had not had a rider since her great-grandmother Queen Alysanne had passed. If her cousin Laena had claimed Vhagar the oldest at twelve name days there was no reason why the young princess could not claim the most docile of the dragons. The she-dragon had accepted Naerys as its rider with little fanfare.

To Naerys, dragon-riding was one of the best if not only freedoms that she had. Her schedule as a child was always dictated by lessons. Not much had changed now that she was a married woman. She was only now beholden to her husband's wishes and scolded like a misbehaving youth, but on the dragon's back, she came into her own.

While her Valyrian was less than ideal her flying was not. Her uncle had encouraged her to keep to the skies. Daemon never seemed to find fault in her flying. He had even made Rhaenyra and Laenor watch her flying during one of their visits. A look of pride was clear upon his face.

“Issa byka ābrazȳrys istan vēttan kipagon.” He had said to them once she had landed back at the spot from where they had watched her fly. Rhaenyra had turned red at his words and looked as if she wanted to storm off back into the castle while Laenor simply chose to focus on the muddy ground below. Naerys was able to piece together his meaning from her cousin's reactions.

Daemon had simply laughed and ushered them back inside. That night Naerys noted that she had not heard the faint opening or closing of any doors nor the sounds of light feet upon the castle's stone floors usually accompanied her cousin's visits. Rhaenyra and Laenor had left before breakfast the next morning. Rhaenyra had not been back since.

By the time they had made the trek to the cave where their dragons lay it had begun to rain in earnest. Silverwing and Caraxes resided in the same cave along with Vermithor, Sliverwing’s mate. The older dragon tolerated Caraxes' presence, but he mostly kept to the back of the cave away from the younger male.

“We can check on the dragons, but we are going back inside.” Her husband stopped them at the cave's entrance, turning her to face him. The prince had to tilt her chin up. Naerys had tried to walk ahead of her husband but his long limbs met her brisk pace without much effort. She was quite agile and his grip was rather loose. She wriggled free from her husband’s hold with ease.

“Where is your sense of adventure kepus?” She began to saddle Silverwing with a grin turning to face her husband. Daemon did not look amused. He had not moved to ready Caraxes. Remaining at the mouth of the cave with a frown.

“Naerys I mean it.” She pretended to not hear him as she seated herself and spurred her dragon on. The last thing she heard was her shouting at Silverwing to stop in Valyrian. She did not obey his commands. They both knew that he could not keep her from riding.

It had been a relief when they had reached the open sky. The rain pelted around Naerys but she had not minded the cold droplets that rained down her face. For the first time in weeks, she felt alive.

Naerys heard the sound of wings in the distance. She turned around to see Caraxes and Daemon not far behind. The rain had blocked her visibility a bit but could make out that her husband was still sporting a frown.

“Stay close.” Daemon's voice boomed out. Naerys dismissed his chiding once more. She urged her dragon to climb higher wondering if they could break through the clouds to look at the storm below them. The thunder came before they could reach their destination.

Silverwing was a nimble pretty thing, but Naerys was a fair-weather rider. Daemon was right when he had said she remained untested on the open sea. She could sense that with each bang of thunder that came, Silverwing began to grow more unsure of herself and her rider's commands. A particularly loud bang that rattled Naerys' bones caused Silverwing to bolt off further into the storm.

“Lykiri Silverwing.” Naerys could not see beyond her dragon's head. The dragon's sudden darts loosened her grip upon the saddle.”Silverwing lykiri.” The princess tried once more, but Silverwing would not listen.

Another crack of thunder set the dragon off again diving for whatever surface lay below. Silverwing had moved too suddenly. Her rider's grip on the saddle had finally slipped. Naerys felt herself falling as she was thrown off her seat.

Instead of hitting the open water as she had expected, the princess felt a pair of hands pulling her up onto another saddle. Her husband wordlessly positioned her on his lap as she struggled to make sense of where she was. The rest of their ride was in silence. Daemon only began to berate her once they had landed back near the dragon's cave.

“When I tell you to stop, you stop,” everything sounded as if she was underwater. Naerys' head was still in the clouds. Thunder was still banging in her ear. Daemon shook her then, breaking her from her trance. “Do you understand girl?”

Dragons were temperamental creatures. As much as their house liked to believe they were Gods among men who had tamed these great beasts of fire they were in truth mere mortal men. Made of flesh and blood as any other. They were beholden to these creatures as much as they were to them if not more so. “You would have been dead if I had not come with you.” It came to her then.

“You could have been rid of me.” Her husband looked at her as if she had grown a second head. Which caused her to let out a laugh. How could he not see it? Daemon could be on his way to the capital once the storm cleared. He had not wanted to marry her truly. He had only wanted a Valyrian wife. A dragon rider with the blood of old Valyria. His heart lay with another.

Rhaenyra was married, true enough, but accidents happen every day. A little sweet sleep or a drunken brawl at some tavern and the crown princess would be a free woman once more. Or perhaps Laenor would allow Daemon to give her cousin children of unquestionable Valyrian blood.

Alicent’s questions would seize. Daemon could have his heirs. Rhaenyra her crown. It could all stop. If her husband had let the storm take her it would have stopped. If Daemon had not saved he would have been free. Well and truly free.

Naerys was brought from her musings when she felt herself being wrapped in her husband’s arms. “I chose you, dōna hāedar. I have no taste for another.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. She looked up to meet Daemon's red-laced violet gaze. He did not laugh at her. There was no mischief in his eyes. Nothing of malice or deceit.

Naerys did not know what possessed her, perhaps she was still in shock, but she reached up with a small brown hair to curl her fingers around the short silver hair at the base of his neck. She pulled him down with a soft tug. Naerys still had to crane her neck to look up at her husband, but they were more on equal footing.

She reached up using her other hand to trace his lips. This time it had been Daemon who had drawn her in. He tasted of smoke, the sea, spiced wine, and something heady and warm that she could not name. Daemon had only stopped to pull away for air after she had begun to sink further into him from a lack of oxygen.

The storm had begun to let up as they stood there breathing each other in, their foreheads lightly touching, before her husband picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than Dark Sister. Naerys could not help but let out a girlish giggle at the sight they must have made which prompted her husband to land a firm swat on her backside. At that too she let out another round of laughter. Daemon had not left her bed that night or the night after.

Translations:

Kepus: Uncle

Uēpa vala: Old man

Valzȳrys: Husband

Issa byka ābrazȳrys istan vēttan kipagon: My little wife was made to ride.

Lykiri: Calm down

Dōna hāedar: Sweet girl

Ao3 link:

#daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x targaryen!oc #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x oc #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x black!oc #daemon targeryan #prince daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd spoilers #house of the dragon fanfiction #houseofthedragon #hotd fanfiction #managed to post this before thanksgiving 👏🏽#daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen x black!reader #bnhotdfic

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thousandsun · 4 months

Text

My favorite client (Sanji x fem reader)

Warning:None

Genre:Fluff mostly

Words: 1.7K

Author's note:Watch me realize I know how to code in HTML and I don't need a site 💀

You are a marine,a powerful woman who lives for justice. After your last fight, with a crew of powerful pirates,your subordinates have gotten severely injured. That made you spend a few sleepless nights thinking about what you should do. Your doctors are barely holding up and your supplies are running low.

Finally,one of your most trusted men came up with an idea. "Ma'am?" He asked approaching you.

"Yes?" You turn to look at him. It's currently 1 am and the only thing that seems to be on your mind is your current problem.

"I found this map that indicates there's a sea restaurant. It's actually close to us" He remarked showing you the map, pointing with his finger at the destination.

Your eyes widen as you realize there is hope for your subordinates. You keep your professionalism on the outside as you reply to him in a calm tone "Then we're heading there."

The few men that seem to be alright gather to change the course of the ship. You make your way into your room. The moment you close the door,you feel tears in eyes,running down your cheeks. There is hope. There really is. You thought to yourself. You grew quite attached to your subordinates in the past years. You didn't want to lose them. You know it's wrong. It's wrong to care about those people so much. It's the marine,you are all destined to die for the government. You must accept it.

You lay down on your bed looking at the ceiling thinking,and thinking about everything.

The time flies by faster than you expected and the morning comes.

Of course you couldn't sleep all night. You are up,on the deck, waiting to get to the sea restaurant.

"We are expected to reach the destination in the following minutes,

Y/N-sama" The navigator informs you. You nod as you begin to notice the Baratie. You are the first one to step on the sea restaurant.

You enter the restaurant as some stuff welcomes you. "We need food. I have a whole ship,full of people, wanting to eat something. We have all the money you want" You hand him a suitcase full of berries. "I'll be sitting at one of the tables. Please bring me some food as well"

The man in front of you gives you a confused look. You choose to ignore it since you feel your stomach arguing with you for food. You take a seat at a table patently waiting for someone else to notice you.

A blonde man with curly eyebrows, wearing a suit notices you. His eyes are sparkling with passion. He quickly gets closer to you,to take your order and admire you,of course. "Good morning, mademoiselle. May I take your order?" His smile is brighter than the sun. He can't help but analyze you.

"You were fast to notice me." You remark. Your instincts are telling you not to trust him. Being a marine is tough,of course you can't just talk to anyone. Everyone can be dangerous. At least that's what the marine told you."Yes,you may,sir. I would like a steak with a salad." You reply politely.

He quickly writes down your order. He looks at your uniform and realizes that you're an officer. A beautiful and dangerous woman? Exactly my type. "So what's such a beautiful lady doing here,in this humble restaurant?" The blonde asks. Such a beautiful officer,like her, should have a private cook.

"Don't you ask too many questions for a waiter?" You raise your eyebrow giving him a cold gaze. "Know your place, waiter. I am not here to chat."

"Oh,my apologies, mademoiselle!" He turns around leaving her at the table. The waiter can't help but slightly bite his lower lip. Whatever was that,it was damn hot.

"Why are you smiling like an idiot,Sanji?" Patty,a muscular cook,with oversized forearms asks him.

"There's this beautiful beautiful lady sitting at the table 5!" Sanji makes a little dance out of excitement.

"Whatever. Just focus on the food." Patty easily gets angry, however he maintains his calm this time."We have a lot of people to feed. A marine ship stopped by. Those people are hella hungry"

Sanji takes a few moments to think about what Patty said. He realizes you were there for help. He realizes you're probably stressed out since your subordinates are starving. I'll cheer her up. I will bring her the tastiest food! I will sure impress her this way. He begins cooking. He chooses fresh ingredients for you. He pre-heats the oven so he will finish the steak faster. The blonde spreads the pepper,the salt and the garlic powder on the meat. He carefully adds the oil to get just the right amount. As for the salad,he isn't going to make anything easy.

You wait at the table thinking about your waiter. Maybe you were a little harsh on him. After all he is helping feeding you and your subordinates.

You sigh thinking about a way of returning him the favor. He was nice and trying to help,yet you were too frustrated to give him a nice smile.

Sanji brings the food to your table, waking you up from your overthinking. "Here's the food" He smiles once again.

"Right..." You look at him a bit ashamed by the way you behaved "Look,I am sorry. I have been really stressed and... I know I shouldn't have been so hard on you" The blonde lights up a cigarette. "Don't worry, mademoiselle. I don't get easily mad."

You're surprised by his patience. He works in a restaurant after all,he must have experience with rude clients. "Even so,I am really sorry. If there's anything I can do to-" He leans closer to you placing his finger on your lips.

"Shh. I said don't worry." You feel your cheeks burning. You nod,not being able to talk.

Sanji moves away his finger from your lips. "If you really want to do something to atone your mistake,you can come here again." He smiles giving you a little wink. "I'd love to see you here more often"

You finally realized what's happening to him. He has a crush on you. Unfortunately,you have always been lonely. You had no time for relationships since you were in the marine. "Sure" You smile back. You take a look at the food he just brought you. The way he carefully arranged the food makes the plate look bigger and tastier. You take a bite from the steak. "Oh! Wow!" Your taste buds are begging you to eat more.

Sanji sees your reaction and his eyes quickly filled with joy. "I love to see people enjoy my cooking. Especially you"

Your cheeks are burning again. You struggle to respond without stuttering. "My name's Y/N" You say hoping he doesn't see your red cheeks. Maybe changing the subject will help?

"What a lovely name." He grabs your hand kissing it gently."My name is Sanji" Of course he noticed how red your cheeks are,yet he seems to wonder how shy you can get.

You feel your heart beating faster. "N-nice to meet you..." You stammer out the response. As much as you try to focus on the food the only thing in your mind seems to be the man in front of you.

Sanji chuckles seeing you like this. He leaves you to eat your meal as he has to feed your subordinates too.

Soon enough,you visit him again and again. You find yourself seeing him almost everyday. You find yourself enjoying when he talks to you so passionately about cooking. You find his silly compliments heartwarming.

One day,you enter the Baratie, taking a seat at the usual table. Sanji knows this is the time you usually show up so he was there waiting. He comes up to you, with his usual bright smile "Hello! What can I do for you,my favorite client?" He asks excited to see you.

"Actually... I am not looking for anything to eat" You could see his expression changing from excitement to confusion. "When is your shift over? To maybe...test out my new ship?"

Sanji is surprised to hear you ask something like this."In 1-2 hours I am free."

"That's perfect!"

"Is this a date?" He couldn't contain his curiosity on this matter. He wants it to be a date. He has been craving your touch.

"I guess so" You smile feeling shy again. You get up from your table. "See you soon,Sanji." You walk away leaving Sanji burst out of excitement in the middle of the Baratie.

"Get back to work!" Zeff yells from the kitchen.

After Sanji finishes his shift,he waits for you at the Baratie, knowing you'll probably come pick him up. You show up in a small ship,one you purchased recently mostly for undercover missions. You invite him on your expensive ship. There is only one navigator that was instructed to not bother any of you.

The sea seems calm and serene. You two have the pleasure to see the sky's different shades of pink,orange and yellow of the sunset. The sun looks like it's about to fall asleep, leaving the moon to do it's job.

"What a beautiful sunset" Sanji remarks gazing at the sky."Yet,it doesn't compare to your mesmerizing beauty" He grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him. You blush hearing his compliment. You gaze into his beautiful eyes noticing the love for you overflowing from his gaze. He has so much love for you that he can't keep it for himself,he needs you to feel it,to feel it all. "May I steal a kiss?" He can't stop thinking about your lips. You don't reply,yet the answer is in your eyes and he sees it. As he leans closer to you,his warm breath caresses your face. Finally,his lips are against yours.

The sun rays are gently hugging your figures, warming you and Sanji just like the passion running through your bodies. You brush your fingertips on his left cheek.

#anime #luffy #monkey d. luffy #nami #nico robin #one piece #one piece franky #one piece luffy #one piece manga #one piece nami #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji #one piece sanji #cutty flam #franky #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy

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mercurygray · 2 months

Text

Routine

Spoilers for Masters of the Air Part Five.

Interrogation Hut, October 10, 1943

Routine was the enemy of uncertainty.

Marion had known this to be true for a long time - routine was what got the family through move after move and base after base, what got her father through his hardest assignments and her through starting fresh at half a dozen different schools. Routine was what you had trained on and practiced for and knew backwards, forwards, and inside out.

Following the routine meant that things were normal again.

There was a routine they followed every time a wing went up - wake up, eat breakfast, briefing room, equipment check. There was a routine to start the plane, to clear the runway, to take off, to clear the guns and every man or woman knew his or her place in it. And when they came back, there were routines, too - radio in to tower for your wounded, send out ambulances, come in to debrief. Grab coffee and a doughnut. Sit down. Leave it all on the table. Once these tasks were accomplished, the mission could be considered done. Eat. Shower. Return to the ground.

Today the target was Münster. Marion and her interrogators had reviewed the maps with Bowman and Harding, and understood as well as the men in the planes just what was supposed to happen up in the air. She was waiting for the call from tower - the one that said they'd be expecting their first truck. She checked her watch again - it was getting late, and they were due back an hour since. Perhaps a dead battery? But the clock on the wall had the same time.

She was just about to go through to the other room to phone the tower when there was a noise outside - a jeep pulling up. Someone came through the door, walking fast and looking grim.

"Major Bowman, what -"

He grabbed for her elbow, pulling her in for privacy. "Send 'em back to barracks, Brennan." Red's face was close to hers, his expression hard to read, his voice low. "Please."

She stared, unsure what she was hearing. "What?"

"It's just." He paused, took a deep breath. "It's just Rosenthal, coming in." The enormity of what he was saying sunk in. There was only one plane. "Send 'em back to barracks, I'll do this one."

Marion took a deep breath, very aware that every single eye in the room was on the two of them, locked in conversation. She turned around and put on her most pleasant smile.

"Seems we've got a small crowd today," she said, knowing in her heart of hearts how this would sound and knowing she couldn't make it any better if she'd tried. She also tried not to change her tone as Harding and some of the others came through the door, taking off their hats. "Major Bowman and I will handle these. You're all dismissed."

The interrogators looked confused, but an order was an order and no one was going to argue with her, taking their pencils and folders with them as they trooped out, whispering among themselves.

Harding wandered over to where she was standing, hands in his pockets. "You don't have to stay, Captain. Red's got this."

Marion looked out the windows at the empty road outside. "It's my job," she said, though she wasn't sure she sounded like she meant it. It's the routine. They'll expect it.

Harding looked like he wanted to argue, but couldn't find the words, and frankly she couldn't either. He'd been sweating, out there at the tower - she could see the collar of his shirt was soaked. And somehow, in the moment, it was too much. She strode over to the surgeon's table with its long trays of whiskey, helped herself to a glass, and downed it in a single swig, only to see that Crosby was staring at her.

This is how you know it's bad, she thought to herself, the whiskey warm in her throat. Marion Brennan is having a drink. But she knew from his face she didn't need to tell Harry Crosby that.

No record. No record. No record. And one fort - one single, solitary plane, with one single, solitary crew, in the middle of a room that should have been buzzing with voices. Marion felt herself growing smaller, leaning back into the table, hands gripping the edge just so she could feel something, her jaw clenched. Harding sat down next to her, the smell of his cigar and aftershave somehow comforting, his hand nearly on top of hers.

And the poor navigator, slumped across the table from Bowman like a schoolboy who'd forgotten his homework. No record. As if there wasn't anything else you needed to do up there, like stay alive? No expects anyone to see everything.

No one expects to only have one ship come home, either.

Bailey, that was the navigator's name. Rosenthal, and Lewis, and Bailey. The other names were there, somewhere, but she couldn't find them at the moment. Six men, up in front of a jury, because if she and Harding and Bowman weren't enough, here were Blakely, and Kidd, and Crosby, sitting in judgement and listening as they numbered the dead. She's Gonna - down in flames. Forever Yours - hit by rocket. No record. No record. No record.

Bowman nodded and closed his notes, standing up and nodding. "Well. I think that's all, then."

The boys nodded, still looking a little lost, and Marion found her voice. They would end this the way she always did. They would have something routine. "Thank you, gentlemen. You've all done very well today." The looks on their poor faces! But someone needed to say it, so they would hear it, know it to be true. Coming home was not a failure, even if you were the only one. She felt like she was on the edge of tears and she could not cry right now. Captains did not cry in front of their soldiers. There was nothing here to cry about, as far as those poor men were concerned. "Why don't you all get some showers and some hot food?" Calm. Pleasant. Normal. Routine.

They nodded again, rising from chairs and grabbing bags and coats and chutes, slowly filing out of the room, their chairs a jumble around the table.

One table. Six chairs.

They left, and the ops team, too, until it was just her and Harding, sitting alone in the interrogation room. She stood up and froze for a moment, the blood struggling to go to her head. The room swam as equilibrium returned. She could feel Harding standing, too - just to the side of her, one hand on her arm, making sure she did not fall. Be strong, sayeth my heart. You are a soldier. You have seen worse sights than this.

"Marion."

She looked up at him, and suddenly he kissed her, firmly and almost fiercely, right on the mouth. She closed her eyes and leaned in, kissing him back, neither knowing nor caring what rule she was breaking or who was there to see her do it. He was turning towards her, closing the gap between them, one hand on her arm and the other on her face, and something in her broke and whatever had been holding the tears in fell away. Everything was bitter and sweet and without sense all at once, but he was real, warm and protective, and she did not want him to let go, ever. In the moment it was only them, and nothing else.

His hand left her arm and moved into her hair, fingers digging into the back of her curls as he pulled her closer, and somehow the spell broke. She moaned into his mouth and pulled away, breathing heavily. Her lipstick was on his lips and he looked - she didn't have a word for how Neil Harding looked. Agony? Defeat? Submission? Rapture?

"I should go," she said, quickly, raising a hand to her hair to make sure her set wasn't completely gone.

There was nothing routine, about any of this, and she did not like how much she wanted more of it.

#masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air OC #mota oc #marion brennan #colonel harding #colonel harding x oc #original character #I AM WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS #mercurygraypresents #i have written a thing

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writing-frenzy · 7 months

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Isekai with the Kurosaki fam; now with some UraIchi spice

So, my brain has been dumping even more ideas for a fandom I can't write for, so I guess I'll dump all the ideas on the ground and sees what happens; also, partly inspired because of DevinePhoenix's Glass Body, Steal Wings and slightly be Cannon Ichigo in AU series by Williamcipher, especially the third of the series, because ye.

Anyways, so for me, I can never imagine Ichigo would part from his sisters and Goat-face easily, even in a normal au, because it's Ichigo's family, his friends, his lost, his life experiences that makes him who he is as a person; if he died and then transferred, a part of me wonders if he would ever try and get back home somehow. So my brain went-

Brain: hey, how about we have a thing that makes the entire family get into an accident :D

Brain: And, like, maybe a day before or when Ichigo was younger, he ended up saving a godly being's most beloved person, so the god is like; hey, I owe you, I'll reincarnate your family into my world; thing is, the world the god has is maybe connected in a way to an anime/webnovel/comic one of the girls or Ichigo's friends were reading, and Ichigo knows it because he was convinced to watch/read it as bonding.

It's a world of magic and fantasy, where words and names have power and things go bump in the night ever so easily. Ichigo and his Family find themselves in a cozy little hideaway, all confused but happy and relieved to be alive and with each other. Isshin in this au will be an awkward, not the best father but he loves and he tries, and he just wants the best for all of his children. (He is the unsarcastic B+ parent, because with all the shit in this au coming, Ichigo deserves this).

Isshin in their original world is descended from a sword wielding samurai family, and he's had the forms and everything beaten into him since he was young, and the reason why he never taught Ichigo was because he didn't know how to be a gentle teacher and he never wanted to hurt his boy. (it's why he's always given his children freedom and choice of what they want.) And coming into this new world, this new place, everyone can feel a change in their bodies, can feel power in their veins even if they don't know what to do with it. See, Ichigo's mom had a little something funky with her blood but didn't know it and Isshin is actually a human with spiritual powers but with their original world it never came out, and with the God giving them a boost/perks, everyone is learning how to control themselves first and foremost.

It's after a bit of convincing and Isshin making Ichigo promise to tell him if he's going too hard that he starts teaching him the family style, along with others in scrolls with phantom teachers to guide them along. It is rough, it is harsh, but it's Ichigo so he pushes on through and becomes better for it. (The two do agree to see if they can find better teachers for the girls though, as Karin wouldn't suit this style even if she would be good with a sword, and Yuzu seems like she would be better with magic then a blade.)

The family of four spends like three years here, learning all they can, devouring every book and all they can remember of the OG!Story of this place before they all have exhausted all the sources and knowledge of the cottage, can no longer progress in their skills as they have been, and had enough cabin fever to drive any sane person down the river. But they're not stupid, so first things first, Isshin scouting at first, then with his son, before him and Ichigo take turns exploring and scouting the area because they don't like leaving the twins alone. But as they're getting a lay of the land and comparing maps and such to reality, even getting a feel for their new magic gadgets and all, they come across monsters and such here and there Once Isshin is sure that Ichigo can handle himself, its only then they spilt so one can stay with the girls while the other explores for a few days, even if Ichigo is only allowed to do it for two days to his father's week.

After that, packing everything they need into magic bags and hammer space, the family takes one last look to their home of all these years, bows in thanks before they are off. It's not long till they join a trade caravan, Isshin trading his skills as a doctor to do so. They travel around for a bit, before in the end, they settle down in a bustling, safe city that never fell in the story, even if the story's protagonist and gang lives here with all their wacky and troubling hijinxs.

So, now that backstory and such is out of the way, let's get to some of the fun stuff. :3

Ichigo does not realize just how strong he actually is; see, in this world of magic and stuff, swords are... technically considered obsolete; of sure, in the story there is a Magic Swordman who is part of the Protagonist's party, but even there they mostly use the sword as fancy focus then to actually fight with it. But with the way Ichigo was trained, as well as both his and his father's lack of common sense for this world, for them it is as easy to cut down a monster as it is to cut down spells themselves. Neither Ichigo or Isshin understand how insane that is, because once a spell is out, you usually have to dodge it or hope it hits someone else if you can't counterspell it.

The Kurosaki's also avoid the Protag and his crew; lets not get involved in your drama, please and thank you (lol, just had the thought of how protective Isshin and Ichigo would get if the story was with a Harem Protag; both would be protective as heck over the twins because with either reverse or regular harem, girls usually get the shit end of the stick). Ichigo is just fine how he is, even if he keeps getting into fights because of random assholes, his charm flowing out and getting his own loyal friends without his knowing. Karin is way too interested in magical sports to care not to mention her age while Yuzu is getting fascinated by potions, alchemy, and cooking to care.

One day, after Ichigo has been feeding some tidbits to some strays, he finds what seems to be a tea and candy shop, with books to read. it doesn't have much business, being out of the way like it is, but there is the occasional regular coming out. Ichigo shrugs, he has time and so he enters this Urahara Shoten.

Somehow, someway, he ends up making friends with Geta-boshi, who as frustrating as he is, recommends good books and a listening ear. Things lead to one things, stuff happens, and Ichigo finds out this guy also has sword.

Sparring partner acquired, though it takes some convincing, a bit of bribing, but Ichigo is able to get the other to agree; he gets his ass beat easily, but Urahara is a harsh, but good teacher, and so Ichigo just thrives in the challenge.

As for Urahara, this guy is so fucking terrifying, just like in canon, how he is assassin sharp and quick with his blade even as he can spellcast at the same time, just watching Ichigo cut through his spells to meet his blade.

Kisuke: this is the most fun I've had in ages :D I wonder what else he can do if I don't tell him what's impossible.

These two end up getting involved in some harsh canon event disasters, Ichigo fighting with Kisuke, knowing the other man won't let him down. Kisuke, having someone he can trust lead the way, knowing, having faith the other can survive alongside him...

Just, these two bonding, getting closer, Ichigo introducing his sisters and Goat-Face who is giving that weird stare.

(On Isshin's part, he recognizes what's going on, and for all that he is not going to be a hypocrite, is not going to kick this Urahara guy as hard as he can and hide Ichigo away, he suddenly... completely understands Misaki's family's cold and hard stares as he had gotten, watching how the elder blond stares at his 20 year old son like he is sun, like he can't believe there is any light in his life again after being shadowed so long. He's pretty sure that is the same stare he had given Misaki as well, just as how Ichigo looks softer, warmer, happier the minute that Urahara guy stays by his side, just how his mother would melt around him despite her expression never changing.

So, Isshin won't say anything, especially since he can tell neither has a clue... but he will be doing the protective, embarrassing Father as much as he wants.)

So yeah, this is the idea :3 I also have another idea with a Mob Protagonist!Ichigo, where he comes to be a character never even mentioned in a story, and ends up charming local shop owner Urahara Kisuke, who is secretly the terrible, scary Puppet Master Benihime without knowing it. maybe I'll note it out when I feel like it, though if people want, they can ask questions about it.

#Bleach #ichigo kurosaki #kurosaki ichigo #kurosaki isshin #kisuke urahara #Uraichi #Bleach AU #writing good awkward father Isshin is interesting and kinda fun #Kurosaki Fam Isekai AU

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bunnyreaper · 8 months

Text

dark side

pairing - simon riley/ghost x f!reader wc - 3k warnings - power dynamics, double life, deception, friends with benefits, unrealised feelings, 18+ for implied sexual content notes - first cod fic, lets gooooo. read on ao3!!

Ghost.

The only name of his you really know—the name you've moaned out in ecstasy so many times that saying anything else is almost foreign. You've traced your fingers over familiar scars and mapped out back dimples with your touch, while his own touch carves itself into you.

And yet, if anyone asked you if you really knew Ghost, you're not sure that you'd have an answer.

You have his body, and even then only part of it—but even that vulnerability is more than most would ever have the privilege of getting.

Simon.

Rarely ever sees the light of day—freckled cheeks having always been shielded from the radiance of your sunlight, hidden from view. One time, just the once, he indulged you just a little. With a makeshift blindfold wrapped around your eyes, he let you feel—let himself feel.

You mapped out his features and felt the plush of his lips with something other than your own. Traced more scars, finally thread your fingers in his hair, right down at the roots. You started to wonder if sight is even worth having as a sense after all. If only you kept your eyes shut forever, you'd get to have him like this.

Ghost came into the rec room, flopped down next to you on the couch, and hasn't said a word since.

The shitty reality show you're watching continues to play, though your attention is no longer on the TV. The contestants bicker melodramatically as they complete their task, and you expect some cutting comment about the show from the man beside you, but it never comes. Just the steady rise and fall of his chest as his dark eyes seem to see through the screen.

Ghost being quiet is something you're used to—on missions and around the base in general, or for those few moments after he's fucking ruined you and neither of you feel the need to fill the silence. But this kind of silence, him taking up space beside you for no other reason than he can, and he seemingly wants to, is entirely foreign.

Not that you'd question it.

The last mission was rough, pulling at the threads of your already fraying sanity. The night you returned was filled with Ghost fucking you so hard, if you closed your eyes and focused, you could probably still feel the soreness of your cunt even now, or remember the harsh tugs at the roots of your hair.

You can count on one hand the words you've exchanged outside of sex in the past week—and it seems nothing will change about that today. But he's here, beside you, in a way he usually never is. Sitting perfectly still, looking dangerously calm. And you're not quite sure if you should break the silence—but before you can make a decision, he seems to make it for the both of you.

"What the fuck are they playing at?"

You're about to explain the premise of the show when he continues talking.

"Fucking rookie behaviour. I mean, I know that's the point of the show but come the fuck on." Ghost isn't a man of many words, but especially not over some silly reality show, and never in such a casual circumstance.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't taken aback—stunned at the way he's fallen into this like it's something comfortable and routine, and not like it's the first time the two of you have ever just hung out without clashing lips and bared skin.

"And them two? Pair of fucking poser tossers."

You can't help but laugh. While the hosts were SAS or SBS too, Ghost clearly didn't take too kindly to them.You're torn between letting him continue and seeing where his rant is going, and interjecting with your question—yet curiosity wins out. "You met them?"

Ghost huffs, wrapping his arms across his chest. "Yeah, couldn't stand the pair of pricks."

He falls back into his usual silence, but his posture is stiff and something festering is rolling off him in waves. Despite being the only glimpse of his face, his eyes usually betray nothing. Since getting to know him a little more, since fucking him every chance the two of you can get, you've learned to read the little sparks of emotion within.

It's easy to see now—the mission is still weighing down on him.

A moment of arrogance from a member of another unit temporarily under Ghost's command, one moment, and the whole mission went to shit. The target escaped, and Ghost was one of the few on that team making it out without being riddled with a bullet or two.

"Can't stop thinking about that arrogant, incompetent fucker."

You don't need him to speak to know he feels responsible, feels a sense of guilt weighing down on him as several men's lives sway in the balance while he got out unscathed. You'd felt his swirling rage of emotions all throughout the week as he took it out on your body—now is the only time he's verbalised even a hint of the root of it all. The first time he's ever really shown any vulnerability just for you.

The air feels different, though maybe that's just for you, as your fingers itch to reach out to him and comfort him with your touch. Yet, tenderness isn't what you usually share.

"Yeah, I heard he's being discharged over the cock-up." You offer, though you know Ghost will know more about the disciplinary machinations than you do—he's probably been fighting for that discharge all week.

"As he fucking should." He huffs, his eyes harden, and then the brief moment of openness is gone. "Maybe if he gets lucky, this show might have him on."

You break the tense silence with a barked laugh, always amused by your lieutenant's dry humour. "I don't know, they might be pricks on this, but at least they're good-looking. He doesn't stand a chance."

"You have shit taste in men." Ghost mumbles, clearly disgusted by your comment.

You fix him with a look, as you both know your taste in men is Ghost, more so than he even realises. He returns your look with a glare.

"My point stands."

A smile tugs at your lips that you can't stop, knowing that even if Ghost thinks your taste in men is awful, he isn't really complaining. "Whatever you say, LT."

He holds your gaze before his eyes flicker down to your lips and return with a burning behind them. "My room tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah." You nod, already suspecting you'd be spending the night pinned beneath him.

You expect him to stand and leave, his question having an air of formality to it, and yet he remains, collapsing back into his concentrated silence as he watches the show alongside you.

The only sound from him is the occasional derisive scoff, meanwhile, you struggle to breathe as you feel the warmth of his thigh settles into yours.

It's intimate, and it's fucking strange for the two of you—then again, this whole moment has been a break from your usual carnal routine. You take a deep breath as you forgive yourself for indulging in it, in letting your more tender feelings bubble to the surface, just this one.

Simon stares at the double doors before him, so viciously he could burn holes through them with just his gaze.

He doesn't know why he's doing it, what crazy compulsion drove him to do any of what led him to stand here right now, contemplating going inside, taking a seat and even just being present in the room. Even more so, what compelled him to venture outside, maskless and vulnerable.

Bile rises in his throat, as his chest begins to heave and a gnawing at the back of his mind commands him to leave. When he hears sudden footsteps behind him, it takes everything within him to not spring into action.

The figure appears beside him cautiously, like he's acutely aware of the thoughts churning away in Simon's head. A quick glance at the man shows his lanyard and his welcoming eyes—the head doctor, then.

The kind-eyed man greets Simon in a softly spoken voice that only sows a seed of discontent within him, something about the uttered introduction and the 'haven't seen you around, will you be joining us?' makes Simon's fist clench.

This was a mistake, he knows that, and yet as fucking Richard, holds open the door for him, something shifts.

His eyes land on you—perched on one of the chairs and dressed in civvies, with a superficial smile on your face. He would know what a real one of yours looks like, but would never admit that he thinks of such a thing when his eyes flick shut.

He moves without thinking, not sure what the fuck is going to come of this, and yet unable to escape. He takes a seat on one of the few remaining chairs, directly across from you, and you seem to catch sight of him in your peripheral.

When his eyes meet yours, a feral beast of a feeling claws at his chest, and multiples tenfold when he sees no hint of recognition within your gaze. You offer him a warm smile anyway, that he appreciates, even if he can't return.

You, on the other hand, would be lying if you said you weren't intrigued. All the faces in the room you've seen at least once before, apart from him. Fresh blood, clearly military too, though in these parts and with the purpose of the group, it's hardly out of the ordinary. Offering him your best attempt at a welcoming smile, you try to place him, but come up short—you avert your eyes when you realise you're staring.

And then everyone's attention is being gathered, and the session gets underway. After his standard welcome, Richard invites the newbie to introduce himself to the room.

The man only shakes his head wordlessly, and again, it's nothing out of the ordinary. Geoffrey, two seats to your left, didn't say anything for almost 3 months. He's the longest holdout by far, but he never stopped coming back.

You wonder how this man will compare—the darkness of his eyes speaks of the locked-up torment within.

"In that case..." Richard expertly diverts the attention away from the stranger, knowing better than to push. "Would anyone like to start us off by telling the group about their week?"

The room falls silent, as no one ever wants to be the first to open up. A few hopefully eyes fall to you, but his are the most notable—they're almost...searching.

"I'll go." You take a moment to gather yourself, a hint of nerves washing over you.

"My week was... a lot of numbness. Came into the week crashing and burning, but yesterday was a good day. Only good one of the week, though, I'd say."

Ghost had stayed until dinner time rolled around, wordlessly watching alongside you, not retreating from the way your warmth seeped into each other. You wonder if your scent had invaded his senses like his had yours—if it had distracted him from the TV as his had you.

"Nights are hard, days are hard."

That night, he wasn't as vicious as he usually was, and had been throughout the preceding week. There was less brutality to his actions, less slapping and biting, and spitting—but while he sacrificed the violence, he didn't sacrifice the intensity. He worked you hard, edging you until you cried, fucking you until you couldn't scream anymore. His cock made its home in your tight, wet hole—claiming it over and over again, far beyond what was needed.

There were moments he would flip you on your back, throw your legs over his shoulders and press into you until you became one. His eyes screamed something you couldn't recognise, and didn't leave yours until the intensity proved too much for both of you, and he'd change position just to prolong his time inside you.

And then when it was all over, he spoke.

"Fuck, I needed that."

And the words sent you reeling as he disappeared into the night.

"I'm trying to be kinder to myself, I guess. Trying to forgive myself for the way I choose to cope... for the indulgences I take."

"And how's that?" Robert asks, encouraging you to share with the group.

You swallow, your eyes flickering to various members of the group, who look upon you kindly—and then to the stranger. His gaze is unwavering, and it seems he's hanging on your response.

"Sex. The nasty kind, hate fucking really, but it's... cathartic." You speak, not looking away from the intense stare. The disgust or shock you expect in response doesn't come, but you find you can't take the look in his eyes any longer.

You wish someone would interrupt you, and tell you it's inappropriate, but nobody does. "And I suppose, who am I really hurting? The worst I'm ever left with is some bruises, a love bite, or the same emptiness that I went in with anyway."

Though most nights that emptiness is fucked out of you. The nights when Ghost comes and uses you are the nights you sleep the soundest, your brain too exhausted to conjure up the terrors that usually come.

You look down, fiddling with yourself as you continue to speak your stream of thoughts. "I think it helps both of us really, in our own fucked up way, but neither of us is really wired right anyway."

I wonder what they all make of that. I wonder what he makes of that.

You cough, dispelling the lump in your throat, and will yourself to finish your little speech. "But yeah, a lot of uh, sessions this week. Took my mind off of things for a bit. Small victories, I suppose."

Robert speaks without missing a beat, and at least has the decency to not sound scandalised. You suppose it's nothing he hasn't heard before. "Thanks for sharing. Anyone else?"

Someone begins to speak, but the next story is lost on you, as you drift off again into your thoughts and try not to meet the eyes of the man across the room.

The next thing you know, the session is over, and the tea and coffee station set up at the back of the hall is calling your name. The tea is shit, the coffee worse, and the biscuit selection is slim, but it at least helps a little with the post-exposing-deep-parts-of-your-soul nerves.

You feel his presence before you see him. He's the largest man in the room, the one with the most formidable aura, and yet he's taking a step forward and eyeing the plain digestives with a pissy glare. And then your gazes connect again, and you hate that you're thinking about how much prettier he is up close—even if you can't look directly at him for too long before your cheeks start to flush.

"Yes, the biscuits are always shit, if you're wondering. Wouldn't blame you if you cut and run and never come back."

At that, he scoffs out the tiniest laugh—one you might have missed if you weren't paying such close attention to him out of the corner of your eye. "Yeah?" His voice is deep, and the sentence is so short that such a descriptor is the only thing you can come up with. Deep, gruff.

Not perturbed by the shortness of his words, you pay attention to the vague hint of interest in his tone, and find more words tumbling out of you. "Yeah. You sit through an hour of people's shit, and they don't even fork out for the chocolate-covered ones, it's like they want us to stay mental." You joke, and again, there's that tiny huff.

"Bastards."

You spare him a glance as you grab one of the styrofoam cups from the stack, as you expect him to do the same.

He doesn't—he just watches. He doesn't offer anything more in the way of conversation either, but there's something about his demeanor that suggests the vague sense of company is enjoyable to him somehow anyway.

At least he said something here, even if he didn't in the group.

"Sorry about you hearing that, by the way, never really talked about that stuff before. Trial by awkward fire, I suppose." You shrug, spooning sugar into your cup.

"S'fine." He mumbles, again with the short sentences and nothing more.

He's strange, quiet, and clearly, there's a lot more bubbling beneath the surface. You've never been one to back down from a challenge and not one to turn away from a man who won't reveal his hand too soon—you're used to Ghost after all, and no one could be more closed off than him.

"I'm Y/N, by the way." You look at him once more, offering your hand in a friendly gesture.

Unbeknownst to you, everything inside him is screaming. Simon didn't think he'd even get this far before you cottoned on, freaked the fuck out and rightfully made a fuss. He didn't think he'd have these moments where he would just get to be Simon, for the first time in a long time. His brain urges him to say the words on the tip of his tongue. It's me, Ghost.

But they don't come. Instead, he takes your hand, trying hard to shake it like he wants to grab on and never let go.

"Simon." He offers, eyes boring down into yours.

And that's when the recognition flares within you.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader

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jinwoosungs · 2 years

Text

{ 78 }

waltz in the rain.

ichigo kurosaki x fem.reader

10 stages of love

bleach - au

1. first sight

june 17, 20XX

you had been living in karakura town for a few months now, ready to start your medical residency at a nearby hospital. your parents shared their concerns with you being so far away from home, but you didn’t want to change any of your plans.

the sole reason why you chose karakura town was because you wanted to spread your wings and come out of your comfort zone. you spent your whole life growing up in your small town and was looking forward to experiencing something new. the first time you had seen karakura located on the map, something clicked from deep inside you.

this town was special, and you were going to have an amazing experience, you were sure of it.

since moving in to your new apartment, you didn’t have too many pieces of furniture save for your bed, desk, and single dining room table. because you were so busy preparing for your residency near the end of june, you usually bought convenient foods at your local store.

today was no different.

while walking around town, you were aware of how hot and humid the weather had become as gentle droplets of rain were felt sliding down your face. the hoodie you wore was a thin one and didn’t do much to protect you from the rain. thanks to the sudden downpour, you end up purchasing an umbrella along with your dinner for the night before making your way back home.

your footsteps echo across the streets slick with rain, immediately regretting your decision of leaving your apartment to get food. the rain that was once a drizzle now turned into a downpour, leaving you shivering as you tried to walk faster back to your apartment.

it almost feels as though the sky is crying.

your gentle musing earns a smile from you while crossing the street. you stick to the sidewalk, but suddenly became aware of the flowing river to your right. you take in the beautiful scenery, becoming almost mesmerized at the sight of the pelting rain against the river when a sudden figure makes you stop in your tracks.

settled in front of the river was a tall young man. his bright orange hair was something that was hard to miss as his clothes began to darken with the ongoing rain. he wore no jacket and had no umbrella, filling you with concern for this stranger.

he was definitely was going to get sick, and you didn’t want that.

pulling up the hood of your hoodie, you step into the wet grass, making your way closer to him. he seems to hear you, becoming aware of your presence when the sight of his back suddenly stiffening makes you slow your movements-

he looked like he was ready to strike.

“uhm, excuse me?”

finally listening to the sound of your voice, he relaxes his stance and faces you-

and you become caught off guard with the sheer, masculine beauty he displayed. his face was all hard angles, with full lips that would have appeared seductive had he not had them frowning in a permanent scowl. his eyes reminded you of a warm coffee hue, the sight of it making your whole body heat up as you trembled.

you were speechless, so mesmerized by him that all you could do was hold out your umbrella for him to take.

“h-here, take it. i don’t want you to get sick.”

“what? why are you giving me your umbrella?” oh no, even his voice sounded incredibly rich and seductive to you. you could feel your cheeks heating up as you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him.

“j-just take it, okay?!” not giving this perfect stranger a choice, you shove the umbrella in his arms before turning away from him. you were aware of the way he calls out to you, beckoning you to stop-

yet still, you couldn’t do it. instead, you tighten your hands around your bag before sprinting away from him.

you didn’t dare to look back, and simply accepted the fact that you may never see him again.

2. introduction

dr. uryu ishida was a man who was definitely pragmatic and stiff, and you found that despite how much you respected him, you couldn’t seem to follow or enjoy the way he interacted with his patients.

he was a man that worked fast and efficiently. you were honestly amazed at how far he had become as a doctor while being just a few years older than you.

dr. ishida takes you on rounds and asks you questions here and there about how you planned to treat certain patients if they had specific disease states. you did your best to think critically and answer him, but something about this whole residency left you feeling cold.

there was no warmth, no interaction with those patients, and it left you with an almost gaping feeling of emptiness. you were once so excited, being able to start your residency under the tutelage of dr. ishida, but now that you saw how he worked firsthand, it was so different than what you were expecting.

three weeks in to your residency, dr. ishida senses your distance and asks that you come into his office so that you could talk first thing in the morning.

to say that you were nervous over this meeting would have been a huge understatement.

here you were, awkwardly settled on one of the chairs in ishida’s office as your eyes wander around the private space. everything was so neat and proper, with everything in its place. from the laptop, to the stacks of papers settled around the desk, it was all so perfect to you.

however, as you continued looking around, you became aware of a picture frame settled to the right of his desk. it was the one item that seemed out of place, being settled at an angle. turning the frame around so that it was now facing you, your heart melted at the sight.

in the picture, dr. ishida was holding a beautiful woman with long, auburn hair. his hands were settled on her swollen belly, indicating that she was pregnant with his child. never before has dr. ishida smiled so widely as he did at that very moment.

“ah, i see you’ve met my greatest treasures.”

you jump a bit at his sudden entrance, sporting an apologetic smile on your face when you turn back the frame to its original position. “i’m sorry for snooping, i was just a little curious.”

he lets out a tiny laugh, pushing up his glasses while taking a seat across from you, “that’s my wife, orihime. she’s expecting our first child soon, in the next couple of months.”

you congratulate him on his future status of becoming a parent, and he simply smiles at your thoughtfulness before clearing his throat. he says your name with his hands clasped on his desk, getting straight to the point, “you’re unhappy here.”

you stiffen, actually becoming tongue tied as you tried to find the right words to say so as to not offend him. but he simply shakes his head, sitting back in his seat while picking up his picture frame. “i understand that the work here at karakura hospital may be a bit too fast-paced, given the sheer amount of patients we have staying in this hospital and must treat. perhaps such a route of medicine may not be for you. i can handle such stressful work in my life solely because i have someone to come home to that takes all of that stress away.”

“i know you’d much rather have a more intimate relationship with your patients to better treat them. that’s why, i’ve already called a close...colleague of mine, and they agreed to take you in.”

you notice how hesitant dr. ishida sounded when he mentions this mysterious colleague, and the doubt you felt must have been written all over your face when he suddenly chuckles, “dr. kurosaki isn’t a bad man. he’s eccentric, yes, but i’m sure he’s the man that can show you the type of patient care that you want.”

dr. ishida then takes out his writing pad and jots down the address of the clinic, telling you that you can start right away and head towards the clinic. feeling touched by his genuine kindness, you take the address and hold it close to your chest, thanking dr. ishida for giving you such an amazing opportunity.

------

your heart was steadily racing, making you feel slightly anxious and nauseous when you finally arrive at the small clinic.

you wonder if this place was perhaps run by family. in a stark contrast to karakura hospital, the place seemed to exude warmth and hospitality. it was as though this place had a gentle air to it, and that made you feel all the more excited to work under dr. kurosaki.

“can i help you?”

that voice, it’s that voice!

the raspiness was undeniable; you couldn’t count the sheer amount of times you’ve replayed that voice in your head along with the memory of his face. turning around to fully face him, you swore you could feel your whole body turn warm at the sight of him.

bright orange hair and deep brown eyes-

your perfect stranger.

“are you dr. kurosaki?” your question comes out almost like a whisper, since you found it so hard to speak clearly when you were around him. it was pathetic, really, with your knees getting all mushy and weak just because he had a pretty face.

he seems to scoff at your question, hands folded across his chest as he corrected you, “not even close, that’s my pops. i’m ichigo kurosaki.”

3. interaction

“ichigo-” you gasp, cutting yourself off when you put both hands against your lips. just how rude could you be, calling him by his first name like that!

“s-sorry, i didn’t mean to call you by your first name, and it’s my first time ever meeting you.”

you hear him scoff, placing a hand behind his head while running a hand through his hair, “it’s fine, just tell me your name and we can call it even.”

you could feel your lips lift up in a grin, feeling happy and warm all over at his awkward kindness. within seconds, you tell him your name and step closer to him, “it’s so nice to finally meet you, ichigo kurosaki.”

you watch as his own lips tilt up in a smile, already feeling your heart race at the sight when he tells you, “likewise.”

he sighs, looking away from you briefly. his mouth opens, as if wanting to say something when a booming voice interrupts your first interaction with ichigo.

“AH, I SEE YOU’VE ALREADY MET MY LOVELY ASSISTANT!” an older man with spiky, salt and pepper hair suddenly appears beside ichigo, slapping his son’s back with fervor. ichigo, clearly annoyed with his father’s antics, steps away from him first. “i’ll leave you two alone, and please, don’t annoy her too much.”

“wait, was there something you needed?”

ichigo shakes his head, muttering “i can come back some other time.” he gives his father a simple wave. not knowing what comes over you, you step closer and call out to him, “wait, ichigo?”

he stops, with both him and his father giving you a curious glance. the heat returns back to your skin, and you felt so foolish for stopping ichigo-

but you were sure if you didn’t stop him, then you wouldn’t see him again.

“will you come back, y-you know, to maybe show me around karakura town?”

ichigo gives you a wide-eyed expression before softening his gaze, “yeah, of course. i’ll come back.”

you, feeling filled with happiness at the thought of seeing ichigo again, were completely unaware of the knowing smile isshin kurosaki gives while watching your interaction with his son.

4. attraction

“you know, i give you my full blessing to date my son.”

you nearly trip over your own feet upon hearing such ridiculous words coming from isshin’s mouth. “d-doctor kurosaki! don’t be ridiculous!”

he sighs, giving you a playful pout while placing a hand on your shoulder, “i’m not kidding. i’m afraid my son has grown up to be quite lonesome with no one by his side.”

“that’s a silly notion.” you distract yourself with taking the inventory of all the medications isshin had stocked in his clinic, “besides, i’m sure he’s not as alone as you think he is. he seems like such a wonderful guy.”

“he is a wonderful guy.” the older kurosaki agrees with you, but it was his next words that makes you stop in your tracks, “in fact, he’s so wonderful he let his best friend marry the woman he once loved.”

this new piece pertaining to ichigo’s life makes you stiffen, your hands frozen on the spot as they lay suspended against the shelf. you listen as isshin spoke fondly about ichigo’s teenaged years.

“he’s always wanted to protect everyone, placing such a burden on his shoulders at such a young age. all he wanted was to be strong and have the strength to protect everything that was precious to him.”

“orihime inoue was one of those people.”

you could feel the coldness seep into your veins at the familiar name. it was dr. ishida’s wife, the same woman who he had admitted to being his light, his sole purpose for living each day.

“she was a beauty, reminding me a lot of my late wife, masaki. she had a kindness that even my dense son became drawn to, and they were together for a while.

but a rift suddenly came between them. to this day, my son has not changed his desire to protect everyone he meets. perhaps this made orihime lonely, or perhaps he did this on purpose to force uryu to finally act on his feelings for the girl.”

by now, your mind was spinning at this knowledge. seeing the perplexed expression on your face makes him smile as he shakes his head, “perhaps it’s just my wishful thinking, since i want my son to be happy. but i can’t ignore the way his eyes soften each time he looks at you.

if anyone can make him happy like he deserves, i feel like it would be you.”

you didn’t know what to say, feeling your heart race at what isshin was implying. “i-i don’t know dr. kurosaki. although i admit, i am attracted to ichigo and am drawn to him, i just don’t think he feels the same way.”

a sudden knock heard coming from the door makes you look away from isshin, feeling your mouth turn dry upon seeing ichigo standing before you, “i-ichigo, how long have you been standing there?!”

he frowns at your question and the sight of your panicked expression, “not long at all. i just got here, and i was hoping you’d still be here.”

“dad, do you mind giving her some time off this weekend? i promised to show her around.”

you could feel the way your heart began to race at his question, making isshin let out a hearty laugh while clapping his hands together, “BUT OF COURSE! ANYTHING FOR MY PRECIOUS SON!”

this earns yet another scowl from ichigo as he ends up bickering back and forth with his dad. yet all you could focus on was how much your ears were ringing as a sweet anticipation for the weekend fills your veins.

5. date

this isn’t a date.

the weekend had finally came, and that’s all you kept telling yourself when you got ready to meet with ichigo. you were dressed casually, and wore a light sheen of makeup just to be safe.

your heart refused to stop racing, and you were so anxious to finally see ichigo once more. you had never felt so nervous before, with even your palms sweating at the thought of seeing him again.

checking your phone, you figured it was best to meet him at the station first. you definitely didn’t want to be late, or keep him waiting for you. besides, the excited butterflies that filled your stomach made it harder for you to keep still.

with a noticeable bounce in your step, you walk out of your apartment and down the steps. your mind was filled with various scenarios on how your interactions with ichigo would go.

but the last thing you expected was to actually see ichigo standing outside your apartment complex. he had his hands buried within the pockets of his jeans all while dressed in a tight, black shirt that fit him all too well. just seeing him standing so perfectly before you makes you do a double take, feeling shy all of a sudden as you take him in.

he’s so perfect.

he sees you standing there and gives you a smile, holding out a hand for you to take, “what are you waiting for? come on...”

6. holding hands

oh no, are my palms sweating? should i wipe them on my clothes or...?

you were so caught up in your panicked thoughts that even ichigo couldn’t help but roll his eyes at your hesitance. “come on, i’m not gonna bite you or anything.”

he makes the move first, taking a hold of your hand. the moment his palm met with yours, you could feel your face heat up, the blood rushing beneath your skin as you became hotter upon feeling such a close contact.

as if that wasn’t enough on your poor heart, ichigo actually starts to intertwine his fingertips with yours, locking your hand together with his as he takes the lead and begins walking.

“let’s go.”

so caught up in your reverie, you didn’t notice ichigo and his own nervousness permeating through the air. had you payed even a speck of attention to him and his own reactions instead of being so caught up in your own little world, you would have noticed the way the tip of his ears turned red and how much he was smiling whenever you were around.

little did you both know, you had found something achingly special within one another.

7. first kiss

this certainly feels like a date.

you couldn’t help but think to yourself whilst exploring karakura town with ichigo. he made everything feel so bright and beautiful to you, and you never wanted this feeling to end.

ichigo takes you to all of his favorite hangouts; from eating at a diner he frequents at to his old high school, you found yourself taking in everything he was telling you. you found yourself wanting to know him more and all the mysteries he had to offer.

your exploration comes to a slow halt when he takes you to a local park, sitting beside you on the bench while admiring the warm summer air. the glow of the streetlamp coupled along with the ephemeral lights exuded from the fireflies painted the entire night in such an intimate light. you found yourself unconsciously leaning closer to ichigo, earning his attention when he glances down at you.

you rest your head against his shoulder, feeling far too embarrassed to face him when you tell him, “thank you for tonight, i had a lot of fun. and it was so nice listening to your stories pertaining to this town.”

he swallows thickly, frowning slightly whilst deep in thought. it was quiet for a few more minutes before you hear ichigo let out a quiet curse.

“i’m sorry for this.”

“huh?”

his hand was suddenly on your chin, bringing you closer to him. his eyes were dilated even from beneath the light of the streetlamp, and he was looking at you with such an intensity you had never seen before. he appeared uncertain, his thumb shakily stroking at your bottom lip when he asks in a breathless whisper, “can i...?”

“yes, god yes, you can.”

that was all the urging he needed to surge forward, finally claiming your lips with his as you fell into his arms, quickly becoming drunk off of his kisses alone.

8. relationship

who knew that you coming to karakura town would be the start of something so beautiful?

all you wanted was to experience something new in your life, something that your home couldn’t quite give you anymore as you grew to be more independent. working under isshin enforces your desire to become a doctor, with goals of perhaps owning your own clinic someday.

but what you hadn’t counted on was meeting someone who fit you so perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece.

ichigo was everything you wanted and more in a significant other. he was so kind, so patient-

and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have him; to be able to call him as your own.

some nights, when he was too busy to spend time with you, you would feel lonely, but that never made your feelings waver for him. you would always know that you were on his mind as well when he sends you a goodnight and good morning text. and if neither of you were too tired, then you would call each other just to talk about your respective day.

being in a relationship with ichigo was honestly pure and utter bliss.

9. love

you loved ichigo, yet was so terrified when it came to finally telling him.

thoughts kept invading your mind, like was it too early to tell your boyfriend you loved him despite dating him for six months?

you just didn’t want to appear clingy, or not genuine if you said you loved him too soon-

but really, that’s how you felt. only a fool would be unable to fall for ichigo. his kindness and desire to protect you at all costs were such attractive traits to you.

you adored him. each time you looked at him, you were certain that he was the reason why the sun came up each day, just to pass by him and admire the sheer brilliance of him-

but you were afraid.

you think back to seeing orihime’s picture on dr. ishida’s desk. she was so beautiful that you couldn’t help but feel pale in comparison to her. despite how happy ichigo made you, it hurt a bit to know that he once had such a beautiful woman in his arms.

which was why you were so afraid of coming clean to him about your feelings.

your troubled thoughts is what admittedly makes you a bit distracted while at work at the kurosaki clinic, and isshin was kind enough to give you the rest of the day off with orders to “enjoy the weekend and come back monday once you were more refreshed.”

you thank him for this chance to clear your mind, and you took this chance to simply relax within the comfort of your apartment.

you were starting to feel better, dressed in your oversized shirt with a carton of your favorite ice cream in hand while watching a movie. you were halfway through your favorite treat when a sudden knock heard at your door makes you turn down the volume of your tv. getting off the couch, you peek through the fish-eye lens of your door to see ichigo standing with two large bags in his hands.

“ichigo!” you gasp, opening the door for him. he enters the apartment while giving your forehead a kiss. “hey, dad told me you weren’t feeling so well, so i figured i should come over with your favorite takeout.”

your heart melts at how considerate your boyfriend was. you were about to tell him that he didn’t need to go though such trouble, but he simply waves off your concern, “i’m your boyfriend, it’s my job to make you feel better.”

he takes a seat on your couch, already getting out the paper plates as he gets a bit of everything on to the plates. instead of feeling hungry with all of your favorite foods settled before you, you felt your feelings of love for him begin to overflow, ready to burst at the seams.

you join him on the couch, catching his attention when you place a hand on his chin. he lets go of the plate, settling it on your table when you push him back on the sofa and give him a passionate kiss.

he sharply inhales, but returns your kiss just a few seconds later. you settle yourself on top of his chest, pulling away from the kiss first all while staring down at him with complete and utter adoration in your gaze.

“i love you, ichigo, so much.” you gently frame at his face when you finally revealed your deepest secret to him. “and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way about me. i just wanted to let you know that i admire and adore how kind you are, always putting other people’s happiness first before your own.”

by now, you were getting emotional, with tears filling your eyes when you shakily tell him, “orihime was a fool for not choosing you. because i know if i had your love, i would never let you go or choose someone else. never ever.”

unable to stop your tears from flowing, you cling to ichigo, landing against his chest while clutching at the front of his shirt. he remains silent for some time, as if trying to gather his thoughts before wrapping his arms around you.

he brings you closer to him, and you found yourself surrounded by his warmth and gentle scent of his cologne. he presses a kiss against the top of your head, and you could feel him smiling against your skin, “do you really think that i don’t love you?”

ichigo then lifts your face away from his chest, wanting to see your beautiful expression even if you were crying. he gently wipes away at your tears, “the reason why i could let orihime go so easily was because i knew someone loved her more than i ever could.

it hurt, knowing that i couldn’t make her happy like ishida could, but i’ve long accepted that now.” he rests his forehead against yours, eyes turning soft as they shone with love for you. “but losing you, that would pretty much kill me.”

“so you’re pretty much stuck with me until the end of our days.”

you end up showing him a tearful smile, feeling happier than ever when you fling your arms around him to press another kiss against his lips.

i love you. the words were finally exchanged between the two lovers, and you swore you never felt so complete before in your life.

10. commitment

ichigo wanted to be with you for the rest of his life.

after being together with you for a total of three years, he had never been so certain about anything else before in his life.

but there was just this one tiny little problem-

he had forgotten where he hid his engagement ring for you.

and that was going to be a complete and total disaster if he couldn’t find it before going to his reservation tonight.

ichigo must have searched every nook and cranny for that damned black velvet box, but it never turned up. when he called his sisters in a panic, unable to decide what he should do, they simply called him an idiot before telling him to ‘figure it out’ before upsetting you.

in the midst of his search, he hears what sounds like you softly crying, coming from the laundry room. hearing your cries makes him forget all about the damn ring when he enters the room, calling out your name while asking what was wrong.

he watches as your eyes fill with tears as a familiar velvet box was in your hand, opened completely as it revealed the diamond ring he had planned to propose to you with tonight during dinner.

ichigo lets out a string of curses at the sight, nearly banging his head on the wall for forgetting how he had hidden the velvet box behind some boxes of fabric softeners settled on the shelf.

“i was about to do laundry when i found this settled in the corner. and i...oh ichigo i’m so sorry.” ichigo could feel his heart physically stop at the sound of regret in your voice, not wanting to lose you or have his heart broken because it may have been too soon to propose to you...!

yet instead of hearing your rejection, you continue to cry and berate yourself for finding the ring on your own accord, “i’m sure this was going to be a surprise during our dinner, and i ruined it, i ruined your proposal!”

by now, you were a complete wreck, in shambles over ruining what you thought was going to be the perfect proposal. instead of feeling angry, ichigo couldn’t stop the relief from coursing through him.

not wanting you to cry over something so trivial, he kneels down to your height and takes you in his arms. he comforts you, rubbing your back in hopes of calming down the sobs that made your body tremble and shake. “baby, calm down. it’s okay, regardless of where and how i was going to propose, the end goal was going to be the same: i am going to be your husband, and you’re going to be my wife.”

gently, he takes the velvet box out of your hand, getting down on one knee as he presented the ring to you. he says your full name while admitting to you, “i’m positive i fell in love with you at first sight, when you gave me that umbrella on that rainy day; a day you now know as the anniversary of my mother’s death.

i’m certain that she was the one who lead you to me that day, and i’ll never regret it. so please, marry me.”

with the same happy expression ichigo has come to adore painting your features, you give him a tearful nod, unable to speak due to how overwhelming your emotions had become for the man settled in front of you. with his own hands shaking, he takes out the ring and places it on your left ring finger, swallowing thickly while commenting, “it’s a perfect fit.”

you wrap your arms around your lover’s neck, sitting on his lap while littering his face full of butterfly kisses. as you kissed at his jawline, you murmur with a dreamy sigh against his skin, “i look forward to being together with you as your wife, for forever and a day."

a.n. - this is a rewrite of a story i had written a long time ago when i was younger. i miss writing for ichigo so much; he looks amazing during the thousand year blood war arc 🥹 currently unedited, but i'll make edits once this is posted as usual ♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#ichigo kurosaki x reader #kurosaki ichigo x reader #ichigo x reader #bleach x reader #ichigo x you #bleach x you #.stories

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subwaytostardew · 6 days

Note

Will we need to start a new save for this mod? Or for the adoptable Joltik mod?

Adoptable Joltik can be added in at anytime. As for Subway to Stardew, it also can be added at any time. We're working on editing where their house spawns and instead giving them a mini-map to station themselves in for better compatibility (also just having their home station be less ugly).

Previously, we just plopped their house where some trees used to be but well... You would need to use the Reset Terrain Features mod for clean-up.

As for content, it assumes that you're starting a new save so they send letters announcing their arrival on Summer 3rd (when the Railroad opens). Ingo's letter arrives on Spring 1 (mostly just to check if things are working since nothing regarding submas happens for an entire season).

Emmet's arrives on Summer 2nd (and he's a little bitter about how unreliable the Ferngill postal service is as a result).

They're also quite cold to you during the winter as their 0-heart lines are written under the assumption that you ignored them for at least two seasons (and didn't just skip to year 2 like how I usually do when testing...).

That said! Winter 0-heart dialogue under the read-more!

▷ Station Steward Thylak

🥶 Winter 0-Heart Dialogue 🥶

@ - Farmer’s name

◇──◆──◇──◆

▲ Ingo ▲

"winter_Mon":

"People have said I am quite difficult to ignore due to the volume of my enthusiasm. You, esteemed passenger, have surprised me."

"winter_Tue":

"Emmet says that it is difficult to trust people... Though I did not want to at first, I now feel as if I must agree... we have been slighted by too many."

"Surely, you wouldn’t confirm that belief... would you?"

"winter_Wed":

"It has been a year... We have been working on this project for yet another year... and you rarely- if ever- took the time to converse with me."

"May I ask what has changed your tracks? You confuse me greatly..."

"winter_Thu":

"You have been... avoiding me? M-may I ask why?" "People have told me before that I am quite stiff... That is why I try to change the way I present myself. I try to express my enthusiasm verbally so that people can understand how I feel despite my face betraying it. I know I smile... at l-least I try to..."

"I-is that why you've been avoiding me?"

"AH... WHY AM I EVEN DISCUSSING THIS WITH YOU?!"

"I-I need a moment to sort my schedule....."

"winter_Fri":

"I-if I have done anything to... e-err... have displeased you in any way... I-I apologize for my misconduct..."

"winter_Sat":

"Am I really so difficult to approach that you have avoided myself for such a duration of time? For what reason have you averted your tracks from my station?"

"Did I perhaps come across as intimidating? I made an effort to not come across as such during that time... Now, I feel as if those efforts went to waste."

"winter_Sun":

"....."

[Ingo looks to be nervously and meticulously tugging at his uniform sleeves. He seems uncomfortable around you.]

◇──◆──◇──◆

▽ Emmet ▽

"winter_Mon":

"I am Emmet... you are now trying to get to know me. Why?"

"I do not trust you... even if you are helping... Maybe one day. Or not....."

"winter_Tue":

"... You picked a verrrrry weird time to try to talk to me. I'm busy right now."

"winter_Wed":

"......."

"..........."

"You wouldn’t be interested in trains. Especially a station like this."

"winter_Thu":

"I am here. It took you too long to notice that. You are verrrrrrrrry dense.

"I don’t know why I keep trying.",

"winter_Fri":

"...... I am Emmet..."

"Are you allergic to me? I know I missed the first spring here. But you did not have to ignore me."

"At least I try to talk to people first. Sometimes. You did not talk to me at all. Now you are."

"winter_Sat":

"I am- no. I am halting my tracks. What is my name? You never talked to me. Now you are. So. What is my name? Do you even remember?"

"winter_Sun":

".........."

"...... Why are you talking to me now? This is not your standard operating procedure."

"... It’s been a year. Leave me alone."

[Emmet refuses to speak to you.]

#mail car connecting line #dialogue lines #Remaking the house area right now

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light-of-the-two-trees · 7 days

Text

A draft scene from a long, daunting AU that I hope to one day fully write, in which Miriel survives to give birth to all five of Finwe's children (meaning they are full siblings), and Feanor is also the third of five children rather than the eldest, younger than Fingolfin.

(The happier timeline of two even for this AU, in which I don't make things play out just as they do in canon regardless of the changes as I want to in the sadder timeline. The birth order for the Finweans here is Findis (not so named), Fingolfin, Feanor, Lalwen and Finarfin, if anyone's curious). Scene features Feanor and Fingolfin reconciling after Fingolfin sails to Beleriand.

It was a shock seeing him standing there, despite expecting it fully. His brother was still dressed in all his royal finery like a stray piece of Aman that had neglected to blend into the grim darkness of Endórë. He looked every inch the High King of the Ñoldor — which Fëanáro distantly realised he was now — right from his swept-back hair to his impossibly clean boots. No blood stained his clothes, and the salt and sea-spray seemed to have marred them not — in fact, it seemed he'd even fixed his hair. Upon his gleaming dark hair sat Atar's crown, the silver circlet sparkling there as if it belonged nowhere else, and right then Fëanáro wanted nothing more than to rip it off, any damage to Ñolofinwë's perfectly styled hair be damned, and toss it into the ocean because it was just another reminder that their father was gone, and never going to return.

In stark contrast of course, Fëanáro was soot-stained, shivering, bleary-eyed from having stared at too many maps and records with nothing but lamplight, and not at all fit to be meeting any person, let alone a King — just like everyone else except for His Most Royal and Exalted Highness, so it did not bother him very much.

He stared at Ñolofinwë, waiting for him to announce his business.

'Should I sit?'

Fëanáro pointed to a chair, and Ñolofinwë sat. Then, without asking, he reached out for a metal cup and jug by the chair, filled the cup with water from the jug, and took a long swig from it.

After that, he sat there and did nothing but stare the cup or into the middle distance for some time.

'Why are you here?' Fëanáro asked at last, when the silence and expectant staring grew unbearable. Ñolofinwë looked up from his long-since-emptied cup, and sighed.

'I was here to ask if you're alright.'

Was he alright? Fëanáro did not know, nor did he understand why Ñolofinwë might have been asking. But he wasn't not alright, as far as he knew, so he said, 'Yes, I'm alright.'

Ñolofinwë nodded, and turned back to the cup.

Fëanáro decided to pretend that his brother was no longer there, and went back to the map that Círdan's people had given him.

Some more time passed.

Then, at last, Ñolofinwë broke the silence. 'Why were you going to burn the ships?'

It wasn't at all a considered movement when Fëanáro turned around. snatched the cup from Ñolofinwë's unresisting hands, and threw it to the ground furiously. He even took a moment to stare at the cup and then his hand in bewilderment before crying, 'Why did you conspire to have me killed, then, brother? Answer this first!'

Ñolofinwë had gone very still again. After a moment, he breathed, stood up slowly, and picked the cup up from where it lay before placing it down gently upon Fëanáro's desk. His face looked hard and cold. 'Who told you that?' he asked evenly.

'It takes no Loremaster to figure out your designs,' Fëanáro snapped back. 'You wanted to have me sent to Lórien. Your intentions could not be any clearer.'

Ñolofinwë let out one of his long, beleaguered sighs. 'I will admit, Fëanáro, that I was asking Atar to convince you to visit Lórien. But my aim was never to kill you — I can't see how you would even imagine that from such an innocuous suggestion.'

'You do not send people to Lórien simply for a holiday.'

'But what of comfort, and counsel? Those are the reasons for which most people visit Lórien!' Ñolofinwë's voice rose a little, and he pushed it back down into his courtly, even tones. 'You were...I am not sure how to put it, Fëanáro, but you scared us during those last days. We did not wish for you to be suffering.'

Fëanáro shook his head. 'I was quite well all throughout,' he insisted, though his mind flashed back traitorously to the awful headaches, the exhaustion, the constant worry at the back of his mind as to whether the Silmarilli were safe and well. 'If you wished for me to depart for Mandos, you need not have arranged a route via Lórien. A knife to the heart would have—'

'Stop!' Ñolofinwë cut in sharply. 'Do not speak of killing, Fëanáro — I do not care to hear it, and especially not so callously. And tell me, please tell me, why do you think sending — not even sending, but suggesting you to go to Lórien, would be anything other than a suggestion for seeking advice and rest? Why would it ever be done to kill you? I don't understand!'

Another heavy, oppressive silence hung in the air.

Then Fëanáro cleared his throat and whispered, 'Ammë went to Lórien.'

Ñolofinwë's face went ashen, and he fell back into his chair. 'Oh. Oh, Fëanáro...'

'It was the only way you would know to kill.'

As suddenly as he'd sat down, Ñolofinwë stood up again and pulled Fëanáro into a tight embrace.

Fëanáro let him pull him close, unresisting — it felt like being young again, when being held by a parent or sibling was enough to drive away any fear, no matter how awful. 'I had never meant it that way, Fëanáro,' murmured Ñolofinwë. 'Lórien does not...I didn't know you thought...I wouldn't...'

'Truly?' asked Fëanáro, moving away. His mind went back to the overheard conversation, the rumours about something dark in Lórien. Where had he heard it? From his sons? Who'd heard it from...whom? Had he asked them, or simply believed it, since it had made good sense at the time?

Moringotto... of course. Curse Moringotto a thousand times over!

'Yes, truly,' said Ñolofinwë, earnestly. 'And I am sure the business with the swords was much the same, wasn't it? I'd heard whispers of your 'madness', though I do not remember where they came from...'

'I was wearing two swords that day, you know. I'd brought one for you,' Fëanáro admitted quietly. 'A gift of reconciliation.' That sword was still unbloodied, unlike his own, lying under this very desk, in fact. 'You must have heard the same sorts of things — that I hated you enough, was mad enough, as they put it, to wish you dead.' He'd never wished it, he knew, never had. Even with the flaming torch in his hands, ready to toss, he'd only hoped his brother would turn back and go home, as Arafinwë had.

He did not want to think about what might have happened had he set the ships aflame.

'Moringotto,' said Ñolofinwë, having drawn the same conclusions. 'I'm going to kill him.'

'I am,' Fëanáro retorted. It felt so wonderfully banal, nothing but a pointless, teasing argument with his elder brother only for the sake of it, that his lips stretched into a smile, after what must have been months.

'We could do it together,' Ñolofinwë suggested. The ice had already melted from his eyes and face. 'With both of us, I doubt he'd stand a chance.'

Fëanáro snorted. 'You're right, but you don't even — wait, no, you do.' He crouched down upon the floor, and felt around in the dark recesses under the travelling desk before pulling out an intricate scabbard, from which a silvery-dark hilt gleamed. He stood up, and handed the sheathed blade hilt-first to Ñolofinwë.

'Is it the one you were going to...'

'The very same,' replied Fëanáro. 'I'll make better ones once we have the proper facilities, of course. Some of the people around — I'll tell you all about them soon enough, and their highly fascinating language — mentioned all sorts of interesting metals that might be made into useful alloys. But until then, you'll at least have an actual weapon apart from your formidable anger to go against Moringotto with.'

Ñolofinwë smiled, and pulled the sword from its sheath, admiring the gleam of the pale blue-white lamplight upon its sharp blade. 'Thank you.'

'Don't...don't thank me like that.' Fëanáro took a deep breath, and gathered his thoughts. 'Should we try to put this behind us, if we can? Please?'

His brother nodded at once, and Fëanáro felt a crushing weight lift from his shoulders. His back straightened, and for the first time in so long that he could not quite pinpoint when and where it had begun, the gaping wound between Fëanáro and his brother felt like it was coming a little closer to healing over.

#i'm starting to try and tackle the task of *writing* this AU that's been rattling around in my head since like august last year #so prepare to hear about it lol #the silmarillion #silm #legendarium tag #feanor #fingolfin #children of miriel au #<- tentative au tag #and it was not void #my fic

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