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elijahstwink · 6 days

Note

katherine x elijah. please, we need more kalijah fics. they've been physical in canon and i think they were 💯

Till the Sun Rises

A sweet smut shot between Elijah and Katerina based off Elijah’s flashback in TVD.

Thank you for the great request anon!

I’m totally obsessed with any Nina Dobrev x Daniel Gillies character ships so this was so fun to write.

A few notes:

Katerina is aware of vampires at this point.

Also Elijah has TVD season 2 hair cause the long hair wasn’t it.

This is a historical smut so I’ve tried my hardest to not use any terminology that wasn’t around yet.

Content Warnings: smut, dom! Elijah, human! Katerina, slight anal play (f! receiving) , squirting, praise, small bit of spanking, historically inaccurate language, fingering, handjob, oral sex (f! receiving, m! receiving), slight sub drop, aftercare, Elijah breaks his word.

England 1492

“I won’t!”

“You have to chase me!” Katerina laughs, holding her green dress up slightly as she runs through the gardens, her long curly hair blowing in the autumn breeze. She stops at a small stone bench, overlooking the beautiful rose bushes and the setting sun.

“You’re meant to catch me!” She giggles, finding it easier to catch her breath as she is not required to wear a corset under her casual attire.

“Well if I catch you the game will be over.” Elijah says, walking towards her, his maroon shirt matching the colour of the many leaves littering the ground, leaving naked trees in their wake.

Katerina looks at him, a breathy chuckle leaving her lips.

“Thank you for entertaining me, m’lord.” She says sweetly.

“Oh, you looked lonely inside, so I took pity on you.” Elijah teases, smirking at her and earning himself an incredulous look.

“Klaus promised to spend the day with me” Katerina explains, taking a seat on the bench. “But he never returned home from the night.”

“That’s because Niklaus does not live by any rules but his own.” Elijah looks down at the girl, admiring the way the hues of the fading sun brush against her olive skin.

From the moment Elijah first met Katerina, he was transfixed by her. He expected this, as she looks identical to his first love Tatia. However, he never imagined he’d fall for anything more then her physical appearance. But he can’t deny the quirk of his lips when he hears her laugh, or the way he finds himself wondering what it would be like to court her, make her his.

“He is a very charming man. Hard for any woman to resist I suppose…” Elijah blinks as he returns to the present, looking at Katerina with a slightly longing expression.

“And yet?” Katerina doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger on her lips.

“And yet..” she hesitates. She was completely smitten with Elijah when they first met. So much so that she was no longer interested in meeting Klaus, and was slightly disappointed when he sent Elijah away.

Katerina knows it is wrong, she is going to be courted by Elijah’s brother, but she has lost so much already. So she decides that she would follow her heart.

Katerina stood up, rounding the bench slowly and standing in front of Elijah’s tall frame, his onyx eyes gazing down at her with an unreadable look.

“And yet, my eyes are set on another.” Katerina murmurs shyly, her face flushing the colour of the roses behind her. She tears her gaze from Elijah’s shocked face, suddenly very interested in the grass at her feet.

Elijah composes himself before placing a soft hand upon Katerina’s cheek, tilting her head up to meet his eyes.

A shiver runs down Katerina’s spine at the contact of Elijah’s cool hand against her burning skin. She gasps as she realises how close they are, their chests touching.

“Is that so?” Elijah’s thumb drags across her pouty bottom lip. “And who might this lucky man be? Hm?” He tilts his head, a boyish grin adorning his face.

Katerina flushes even more as she feebly attempts to avert her gaze from his captivating eyes.

Elijah tsk’s softly, holding her firmly in place with a hand on her waist, and the other resting on her cheek still, his fingers gripping her jaw. “It is too late now to be shy, answer my question pretty girl.”

“You, m’lord.” She whispers, her mouth stays parted slightly.

“Call me Elijah, darling.” He says, leaning in slightly, having to bend his head down to accommodate their height difference.

“Elijah.” Katerina repeats, her eyes fluttering shut, so close now that she can feel his warm breath upon her lips.

Elijah takes a split second to admire Katerina, with her pinkish lips parted, her head tilted and her eyes shut. When he cannot physically hold back any longer, he drops his mouth down onto hers, swallowing the whine she releases.

The kiss starts sweetly, Katerina lifting a hand to place on Elijah’s chest. Elijah moves the hand on her waist down to rest on her lower back. He uses the slight moan Katerina releases to slip his tongue inside her mouth.

Elijah pulls back after a minute, breathing heavily with his forehead pressed against hers.

“Allow me to court you instead.” He commands rather than asks, gazing at Katerina with a look that made her knees weak.

“What will Niklaus say, what if he hurts-“

Katerina is interrupted by the addicting taste of Elijah’s lips once again, all her prior worries seeming to melt away.

“Do not worry about my brother, I will speak with him.” Elijah speaks against her lips. “It is getting dark.” He trails off slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before moving the hand on her back lower. “Lay with me tonight?”

A sudden burst of confidence flows through Katerina’s skin. Perhaps due to the pleading look in Elijah’s eyes, showing that he wants her as much as she wants him. She raises her free hand to his jaw, the stubble prickly against her palm.

“I shall, if you promise to keep me up till the sun rises once more.” She says teasingly, leaning up to place a soft kiss on Elijah’s neck.

She feels him swallow, the rumble of an inaudible groan vibrating against her lips. Elijah pulls Katerina from his neck, holding her face in both his large hands. He looks at her with lust flowing through his eyes, along with a glint of adoration.

“You have my word.” He smirks, pulling back and grabbing her hand in his own before leading her back into the house.

“Come here my love.” Elijah demands, crooking a single ringed finger in a come hither motion.

Katerina obeys, walking across the wood floor of Elijah’s bedroom and towards the man standing patiently at the end of the bed.

Elijah gently turns her away from him, before untying the back of her dress. Katerina steps out of the fabric as it hits the floor. She takes it upon herself to remove her undergarments, leaving her bare.

Katerina turns around, giggling as Elijah shamelessly stares at her chest, her nipples hardening from exposure to the warm air.

Katerina squeals as Elijah suddenly picks her up, tossing her on his bed. He begins to undress, running a hand through his hair as he steps out of his trousers.

Katerina sits up, shuffling forward till her legs dangle over the foot of the bed, looking up at Elijah. She kisses along his happy trail, before grabbing the waistband of his underwear and pulling it down. Elijah hisses as the cool air hits his length. Katerina wraps her hand around his impressive girth, bringing her mouth toward to lap at the bead of arousal leaking from his tip.

“Katerina,” Elijah moans softly as she looks up at him with innocent doe eyes. “Open.” He says, hooking two fingers between her lips and forcing her mouth open.

“Good girl.” He praises, not missing the moan that Katerina releases at his words. “Do you enjoy being called that?” Elijah smiles at her enthusiastic nodding, stroking her hair before guiding her head towards him. He removes his fingers from her mouth, replacing them with his erection.

Katerina eagerly sucks, hollowing her cheeks and running her tongue around his tip. Using one hand to stroke the part that won’t fit in her mouth. Elijah keeps a strong grip on her hair, groaning at the innocent look Katerina is giving him. He pulls her off by her hair when he notices her rubbing her thighs together, in a feeble attempt to gain friction.

“Elijah, please,” Katerina begs, lying flat on the bed with a hand hovering dangerously close to her core. Elijah slaps her hand away, kneeling at the foot of the bed. Katerina squeals as Elijah yanks her towards him by her hips, before licking a long stripe up her cunt.

“Good lord, Elijah.” Katerina moans, pulling at Elijah’s hair with both her trembling hands. “No one’s ever-“ she cuts herself off with a loud moan as one of Elijah’s thick fingers stretch her open. He looks up at her, adding a second finger. Elijah crooks his fingers, hitting a spot inside her that she wasn’t aware existed.

“Are you implying,” Elijah kisses her sensitive bundle of nerves, “that no man has tasted you before? Niklaus?” He asks, still fingering her softly.

“Me and Niklaus did not lay together. I’ve only been with one man from Bulgaria,” Katerina gasps, “we never did anything like this, I did not know it could feel like this.” She manages to get the words out between moans, as Elijah kisses up her body, his fingers still working at her core. He lingers on her neck, sucking and nipping at her soft skin. Katerina can feel his fangs graze against her, but he never pierces the skin.

“You have never reached the peak of your pleasure before?” Elijah asks, his veins retracting from around his eyes as he pulls away from Katerina’s neck and meets her gaze.

“I did not think women were able to.” Katerina replies. Elijah smirks before placing a soft kiss on her lips.

“Let me show you.” He says seductively, making his way back down to her core.

Elijah speeds up his fingers, sucking hard on her bundle of nerves.

Katerina feels the pleasure build in her lower tummy, she begins to grind against Elijah’s face, using her grip on his hair to pull him impossibly closer.

Elijah places his free hand on Katerina’s lower stomach, pressing down to hold her hips in place. The pressure of his hand adds to the growing pleasure. She thrashes around on the bed, the way her body’s movement is restricted by Elijah’s strength makes her even more wet.

Elijah suddenly removes his hand from her stomach and his mouth from her soaking core, using the heel of his palm to rub her pearl along to the movement of his fingers.

He moves back up her body, Katerina’s legs wrapping around his waist. Elijah supports his weight with a hand next to her head, before leaning into a filthy open mouthed kiss.

Katerina can barely kiss back, drowning in a sea of pleasure, her only thoughts being on the man above her and the way he is making her feel things she never knew possible. Elijah pulls back, smirking as she opens her mouth in a silent scream, gripping at the arm moving between them with both her hands, overwhelmed by the pleasure it is giving her. Regardless of her clawing and scratching at his bicep, his hand does not falter.

“Eli- Oh gods!” Katerina whimpers, her eyes clenching shut as Elijah’s hand reaches an inhuman speed, his two curled fingers constantly hitting that spot inside her and his palm rubbing across her sensitive nub, her wetness allowing an easy glide. She wraps her hands around Elijah’s neck, her torso curling upwards slightly as she hangs onto him for dear life.

Katerina almost gets a fright when Elijah speaks, his voice deep and strained, “Open your eyes, my love.”. Katerina does as she’s told, peering down between them to see Elijah’s hand moving against her core that is getting increasingly wetter.

“Katerina, Look at me,” Katerina meets his lustful gaze, the eye contact overwhelming.

“That’s my girl.” He praises, his tone dripping dominance.

Katerina almost screams, his words giving her that last push and breaking the dam that had been building inside her. The feeling was euphoric, the pleasure reaching every inch of her being. She gasped as a burst of fluid rushed from her core, so intense that Elijah’s fingers are pushed out. She squeals as he instantly plunges them back inside her, prolonging her release as she buries her face in his neck.

Elijah’s fingers slow to a halt. He removes them before sitting up on his knees, pulling Katerina up with him and into a straddling position. He wraps his arms around her, one resting on her hip while the other cradles the back of her head. Her face remains buried in the space below his jaw, her shuddering breaths warming his skin.

Elijah releases an endearing chuckle as Katerina releases another moan, her body shaking uncontrollably in his arms as the last of her climax washes over her.

“You did so well, darling.” Elijah coos softly. The only acknowledgment he receives is a kiss to his neck. He smiles, tightening his hold on her and massaging her scalp.

“Is it always that way?” Katerina mumbles into his skin a few minutes later. “With the- the liquid?” She elaborates

“Not always, no. All women are different.” Elijah explains, deciding he wouldn’t tell her that he knows her body quite well already, seeing as her doppelgänger Tatia, was his first lover.

Elijah gasps as Katerina reaches an arm between them, the other still wrapped around his neck. Grasping at his length, her small hand is unable to wrap fully around his girth. Elijah releases his arms from her body, placing them on the bed behind him for support. She swipes her thumb over his tip, spreading his arousal down his shaft. Elijah’s eyes shut as he groans. He tips his head back, giving Katerina more access to his neck. She sucks and nibbles at his skin, creating red bruises that fade away almost instantly.

“Katerina,” Elijah moans, “I am not going to last much longer.”

Katerina pulls her hand away and removes her face from his neck, causing Elijah to look down at her in confusion. When Katerina is positive he is watching, she lifts her hips slightly, running her fingers through the aftermath of her release. When her hand is thoroughly coated, she spreads her fluids along his shaft, creating a much smoother glide.

Katerina giggles as she looks back up to Elijah, her hand speeding up. His mouth is hanging open with an expression of pure desire.

“Oh my, you are perfect.” He swallows, bringing a hand to her face, caressing her cheek.

“My beautiful girl.” Elijah pulls her into a heated kiss, winning dominance as he sucks lazily on her tongue.

Elijah breaks their kiss, looking down at Katerina’s hand, working quickly over his length. He moans loudly, both of them watching as white spurts burst from him, coating their stomachs.

Katerina removes her hand, leaving Elijah’s still erect member twitching in her wake. Elijah swipes two fingers through his release on their bodies.

“Open.” Elijah commands, pushing his white coated fingers past her lips. “Good girl.” He praises as she sucks, swirling her tongue between his digits.

Elijah removes his fingers, guiding Katerina to kneel at the centre of the bed. He pushes her chest flat into the mattress, her back arched and her face resting on its side.

“Mmh, still so wet.” Elijah kneels behind her, swiping his fingers through her folds. “Do you want all of me?” He teases, grabbing her wrists and holding them behind her back with one hand.

“Please, Elijah. Make me yours.” Katerina begs, her words slightly muffled from her face being half buried in the silk sheets.

Katerina moans as Elijah taps his erection against her bundle of nerves, still sensitive from the thorough treatment he had already given her pink and swollen cunt.

Elijah sighs as he slowly enters her tight heat. He holds Katerina’s wrists tightly, as she squirms and whines in pleasure.

“Elijah, Elijah, Elijah.” She repeats his name like a prayer, her core clenching around his length.

“Yes, my love?” Elijah smirks, giving her arse cheek a playful smack with his free hand. “Does it feel good?”

“S’good, so good.” Katerina slurs, trying to move her hips. This earns her another, slightly harder slap.

“You will take what I choose to give you, Katerina. No more and no less, do you understand?” Elijah demands, still not moving inside her.

“Yes, m’lord.” Katerina mumbles, her shoulders aching slightly from her arms being held behind her back.

Elijah smooths his hand over the red mark left of her skin, before moving his hand up to hold her hip. A squeal escapes Katerina’s mouth as Elijah suddenly thrusts deeply.

“So sensitive,” Elijah chuckles, thrusting his hips at a rough albeit slow pace. “Such a sweet little cunt, made just for me.”

Katerina releases little uh’s at every push of Elijah’s hips, his impressive size allowing him to reach every spot inside her.

“More, Elijah.” Katerina moans, arching her back even more, presenting him with her most intimate parts.

“Where have your manners gone, young lady?” Elijah scolds. Katerina is about to apologise, beg the man to indulge her when she hears Elijah spit, a glob of saliva landing at the base of her spine, sliding down in between her arse cheeks. He rubs at her virgin pucker with the pad of his thumb.

“Oh!” She gasps at the unfamiliar feeling. “Please Elijah, please give me more.” She begs, squirming on his length as it speeds up slightly. Elijah yanks at Katerina’s wrists, pulling her back onto him as he thrusts forwards, his thumb still playing with her rear hole.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” Elijah asks, pressing against her pucker while he pounds her cunt.

“N-no.” Katerina whimpers, tears of pleasure stream down her face. It’s all becoming too much, the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and the lack of Elijah’s warmth is causing her mind to drift away slightly.

“‘Lijah.” She sobs, Too far gone to communicate her need for comfort.

Elijah however, being the kind hearted man he is, instantly notices her slipping. He releases Katerina’s wrists and removes his thumb from her arse, flipping her onto her back while slowing his thrusts slightly.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Elijah shushes her, leaning down until their chests touch. He holds Katerina to his chest with an arm behind her back, hand tangling in her soft hair. He cradles her cheek in his other palm, feeling the dampness of her tears. Katerina wraps her arms around his neck as a worried expression floods Elijah’s face. He stills inside of her.

“Good tears.” She mumbles, running a hand through the part in his hair. Katerina could tell Elijah was worried she wasn’t enjoying this, which couldn’t be more wrong.

“Are you certain? Am I being too rough? Too mean?” He questions, suddenly aware that she hasn’t had a good sexual experience yet, and he might have ruined this one for her.

“No, no. I swear Elijah, I just needed to touch you.” She reassures him, her fingertips carding through the strands of his brunette hair.

“I really like the way you talk to me.” She admits shyly, her cheek heating up underneath his palm.

“Is that so?” Elijah smiles, his thrusting starting up once again.

“I like the way you tell me what to do,” Katerina mumbles, both her arms wrapping around his neck again. “I enjoy being your good girl.” She looks away from him, embarrassment mixing with the pleasure already flowing through her.

Elijah speeds up his thrusts, the new angle allowing him to hit her sweet spot perfectly, her bundle of nerves brushing against his lower stomach.

“You are my good girl, letting me pound this pretty cunt, taking me so well.” He coos, bending his head to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.

Katerina feels the now familiar knot in her stomach tightening, every thrust of Elijah’s thick shaft pulling it tighter and tighter. She pulls away from his lips, releasing a wail of pleasure.

“E-Elijah, I’m almost there again.” She stutters out between moans. Elijah sits up, Katerina’s hands unwrapping from his neck and instead gripping the headboard behind her. Elijah places her legs over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around them. Katerina screams out when he begins to thrust at vampire speed, groaning heavily as his own release nears.

“Let go Katerina. Let go all over me.” Elijah moans, his balls tightening as they slap against Katerina’s arse. He allows her legs to fall from his shoulders before he drops down, wrapping his arms tightly around her and cradling her small frame to his chest.

Elijah climaxes first, burying his head into the pillow behind Katerina. His seed spurts deep inside her clenching cunt. The feeling of his twitching member filling her with warmth pushes Katerina over the edge, another gush of liquid flowing from her core as she screams out, biting harshly into Elijah’s shoulder.

Elijah thrusts slowly through their releases before flipping them over, staying inside her as she continues to shake and moan in his arms.

Katerina buries her face in his neck, unable to stop the pulsating of her walls around Elijah.

“I will never return to Niklaus.” She mumbles randomly into his skin. Elijah barks out a laugh, causing her to giggle tiredly.

“Are you tired, sweet thing?” Elijah asks, as she yawns against him. Katerina grabs his jaw with a shaky hand, turning his head to meet her lips in a lazy kiss.

“I only need a small nap.” She explains, turning his laughing head away again before cuddling into the scruff of his neck. “Besides, Elijah, I believe you gave you me your word.”

He grins, before looking out the large window across the room. The stars that litter the night sky are the only sources of light.

“You are correct,” Elijah smirks, running a hand along her back. “And I certainly cannot yet see the sun.”

Elijah doesn’t get a response, Katerina already dead weight in his arms. Her heavy breathing indicating her state of slumber.

Elijah allows himself to rest his eyes for a moment. However it isn’t long until they are both deep in sleep, dreaming of each other.

In all fairness, Elijah can’t be expected to always keep his word.

Thanks for reading :)

-Dex

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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sunny-reis · 10 months

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OMG HI I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE AKITO!! may i request akito x reader cuddling after a long, rough day? if thats cool. oneshot if you do :) have a good one 🤞

oneshot - tired cuddles with akito

you're the coffee that i need in the morning; you're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring

an: OUUYDHDHHDFH TYSM !! 🫶🫶 tbh i thought the other akito oneshot would end up being garbage bc i'm not as familiar with him or vivid bad squad (*'-'*) tbh i've been feeling touch starved lately so im gonna focus more on the affection here lolz (worry not it'll be a balance of fluff and mild angst)

tags: gender neutral reader, just a tidbit of angst (having a shitty day), intimacy

there's no way today could possibly get any worse.

at least, you hope so. sometimes you hit rock bottom and think it can only go uphill from there, but life comes back with a pickaxe, ready to dig until you're truly at your worst.

like today. you think you must've woken up on the wrong side, since absolutely nothing went right – you spilled cereal on your kamiyama high school uniform in a hurry, almost missed the bus, nearly fell asleep (and got yelled at for it) in math class, noticed your backpack was ripping just a second too late, and came home at the wrong moment, when the sprinklers were on, and ended walking inside completely soaked. needless to say, you’ve had a miserable day.

the thick piles and piles of homework to do don't help, either. as you lay in bed, mindlessly scrolling through pinterest, the deep pit in your stomach envelopes you in guilt. even though you've been trying to get up and start doing whatever you can get your hands on, maybe pre-calculus worksheets or an analysis of “the most dangerous game,” you find you simply can't, being too drained to do anything but lament in your head. mentally and physically, you barely have the strength to make it through the rest of the day.

hours go by, the bright afternoon sky becoming a beautiful purple-pink sunset around dusk, and you still haven't moved from your bed. your parents came in a handful of times to try and get you to let it out, but to no avail – you don’t foresee yourself getting up any time soon. it's only when your stomach rumbles that you sit up and pad downstairs to grab a snack from the kitchen.

pouring out a handful of cheerios into a bowl, you zone out, staring out the window overlooking the backyard. although you feel slightly better after a session of moping and lying in bed for hours on end, time goes by viscously; you find you’re still not out of the mental slump, and everything feels too overwhelming. the hair on your arms is too prickly, your sweatshirt too warm, and you have the sudden urge to claw at your skin. sighing, you trudge back upstairs and quietly shut the door, sitting down at your desk. after putting your phone on silent, you browse soap2day for a random movie to drown everything out with (and hopefully forget about the rest of the day).

after finish watching howl’s moving castle for the nth time, you sit up in your chair, stretching and yawning. although you still somehow feel like garbage, imagining yourself as a character sure felt relieving (and fed your escapism, but that’s a worry for another day). shutting your laptop down, you crawl into bed to try and sleep; the analog clock on your night stand reads 11:37. placing your phone on the table, you pull the covers over yourself in attempt to drift off.

unfortunately, your attempts were only fruitful for forty-five minutes at most. you awake to an abrupt thud on your window. brows furrowed, you shrug off the covers to see just what’s going on; opening the window, you’re met with the unexpected presence of an abashed akito crouched on the roof.

“akito? what the hell are you doing here, and at this hour?” you ask, eyes wide.

“can you let me in first? it’s cold and windy and i think i might fall.” facepalming, you help him crawl through the window, shivering at the suddend draft and closing it.

“so, care to answer my question?” you pick at him, flopping down on the bed and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“i should be asking you that, honestly,” he shrugs, “i tried texting and calling you but i didn’t get anything back, so here i am.”

“oh…” you laugh sheepishly, “sorry about that, i had a shitty day and couldn’t stand having my phone go off.”

“aw, what happened?” akito asks, joining you in bed. you glance at the door, checking to see if it’s locked. although your parents are more than welcoming of akito, seeing him with you alone would be a bit of an unpleasant shock. leaning on his shoulder and pulling the blanket over the two of you, you recount your eventful day to him as he fiddles with a lock of your hair.

“and i didn’t even get to have lunch in between all that.” you add, whining. although you now find the events just a little funny, you still cringe in embarrassment when thinking about being yelled at by a teacher in public.

“i’m sorry all that happened,” says akito, pulling you closer to him, “but you know you can talk to me about it if you want to, right?”

“yeah,” you pout.

“well, are you feeling any better than before? if not, i know just what to do.”

“i think so? i watched howl’s moving castle and it made me feel a little better.”

“i think christian bale tends to have that effect on people.”

“for sure!” you not, “but yeah, i feel…icky, i guess.”

“maybe you should take a shower, sometimes that helps,” he offers, “but you should probably do that in the morning, you’ll get sick if you shower now.” you roll your eyes.

“really? that’s such a mom thing to say.”

“hey, don’t come to me if you shower and get a cold!”

“nah, i’m too tired to shower right now. since, y’know, i was in the middle of sleeping until someone woke me up.” akito laughs sheepishly.

“is it really my fault if you made me worried sick? i mean, i was just fulfilling my role as the caring boyfriend, don’t you think?”

“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” you laugh, laying down on his lap.

the two of you spend a while chatting in bed until god-knows-what time, when you’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. akito makes a show out of tucking you in, giving you a quick peck before climbing back out the window. you melt away into a dreamy sleep, feeling warm and fuzzy at the thought of akito’s warm embrace.

#akito shinonome #pjsk #project sekai #akito imagines #akito x reader #akito oneshots #pjsk x reader #pjsk imagines #pjsk oneshots #gn reader #gender-neutral reader

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wild-stray-renegade · 11 months

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Polyester Pollution

Author’s Note: It is my personal responsibility to make sure none of these characters are having a good time— I’ve butchered their backstories and present to you the bony leftovers. Literally no one asked for this but the idea came to me and I started writing. If you want to see more of these two or this world, let me know!

TW: Plush...gore? Cursing

Word Count: 1622

Our paws squelched in the tarry mud below us as we made our way across the open land. There's not much that we can see around us aside from the broken down buildings littering the area. I looked to our right at the one we lived in together with our draconian friend Derrin, as evidenced by the small scorch marks around one of the windows from a few of the wilder nights that the four of us had as a group. The crackling of the torch was oddly soothing in comparison to the silence of the vast landscape around us. My mind slipped into a daydream state about the shenanigans we would get up to.

A few seconds in however, I was broken from my dreamlike state. "...I miss him." I heard Damond mumble as he slowly came to a stop in our walk. His ears were folded back in pain. The sunlight bounced back from his little beady eyes as if to highlight the stinging hurt that decided to rear its ugly head in that moment. "I regret not being there for his final moments, not being able to say goodbye."

A slight feeling of something new tugged at my chest; it felt like I had committed a crime and was paying the price. I'm not sure exactly what crime I actually pulled but there must've been something. "I'm…" I paused with a sigh and looked over at my buddy. "I'm sorry, Damond." I reached out a paw to comfort him but paused. Did he want to be comforted right now? Is touching him a good idea? Would that help or just cause more pain?

Slightly ragged fur brushed against the fleece fabric of my dirty paw pads, shaking me from my thoughts. Damond had noticed my outstretched paw and decided he wanted physical affection, I guess. "Besnik… could you tell me how he was caught?"

"Hmm? Are you sure you're ready for that story?" I raised my eyebrows. He had told me to wait for months now; the details aren't exactly a typical bedtime story that you'd tell your children late at night.

Damond looked up at me with the pace of a snail. "I…Yeah. I'm as ready as I'm ever gonna be." He sat down on a mossy rock beside our path outside of the camp's borders. "I need to know how he passed on."

I looked at him for a moment to make sure I didn't overlook any sign of resignation. The last thing we needed was this little shit of a fluffbutt breaking down on patrol. His stoic features worked a little too well in hiding any emotion he may have felt before. "I'm… okay." I circled around him to the other side of the rock and plopped down.

"So. I can't recall their names or what in the hell we as a collective group have dubbed them as, but we were over there towards the Deslate Sea cause we were scavenging for those parts for Derrin— you remember, right?" I nodded towards him as he nodded back

"Yeh; he was workin' on that one weapon; the one with the weighted spiked ball on the chain."

"Exactly. Well, he had managed to track down a spot over there where there was an old hideout; we were thinking it was for another group of plush." I paused as the memories started to slowly creep back into my mind. "I… Well, Derrin was right on the building still being occupied, however he was a bit off the mark on who occupied it."

Damond's eyes shot up and locked with mine. I watched the pieces click together in his head. "No. There's no way."

"Y'see, you say that," I raised my brow as I tilted my head towards him to emphasize my tone. "However when we arrived on the hideout's lot, the land surrounding it was covered in the same oily substance that we run into when we meet those creatures. The ones with the fire manes and tails?" I raised my paw behind my head and wiggled it to imitate the flames that line the back of the horse-like creature's necks and heads. Damond nodded in silence as he was more focused on what I was saying to interrupt. "The slick liquid? Well, I'm not sure it's really a liquid per se, but it had fully coated the area when we showed up. Was that a sign that we should've stopped?"

Damond started to aggressively nod in response as his ears flopped in time, the black fur swaying with the wind. He didn't say anything aloud but I could see his eyes screaming You fucking dumbass! as they launched daggers into my chest repeatedly. It felt as if he was filled with the rage of a thousand suns and it was all being directed straight into not murdering me right then and there.

"Yeah, yeah we should've. It was my first scouting mission though and I had never been properly trained; never thought I'd need to before then because we had Miraden with us. The rest of the team was decent as well." I shrugged as I mimicked a snort. "I thought I could be carried along by the others and be the healer of the group." I started to fidget with the small cloth tied around my wrist, the only reminder of my first and only 'owner'. The text on it was barely legible, faded by the tests of time and the fact I wore it without any care in the world.

"So much for being a healer." My vision started to blur as I started zoning out and shutting everything down. The images of the night flooded my brain; the nighttime breeze blowing through my fur, the heavy scent of burning tar and gas searing my nose, the terrifying reflections in the oil as Miraden was jumped by one of the horse-like creatures, one of the hooves landing directly on his spine and cracking it in half, the ear-splitting screech that tore through the night and etched it's pitch into my memory and my night terrors ever since that terrible night, the lifeless eyes staring back at me as my closest friend's mangled body lied in a pool of tar, stuffing and cloth scattered around his corpse—

A soft tap on my shoulder tore me from my nightmarish trance as I jumped into the air, my sword clattering onto the rock below. My eyes focused onto Damond's auburn, black and white furred face staring back into mine. His brow furrowed in concern as he tried to calm me down. "Hey, Besnik, bud, it's okay. You're safe now. You can't be attacked here. We have the barriers around the perimeters; you're safe. It'll be okay." I noticed my thoughts and my movements were more erratic than they normally were. My paws vibrated due to the anxiety and severe stress triggered due to the attack.

"Sorry, didn't realize I was zoning out so bad." A slight stutter escaped at the second word as I was trying to calm down; something I've never done before. I covered my snout with my paws in embarrassment as my face turned into a furnace— this is a horrible time to find out that my warming mechanism from being an Emotional Support Bear still works to some extent.

Damond could pick up on my situation as he smiled softly. "It'll be okay, Besnik." He proceeded to pat my head and then handed my sword back to me. "Here, take your blade before it vanishes into the void with half of your belongings. You have your shield and we need to keep the two together, you nut." I scoffed as the comment playfully stung. I was still looking for my sewing kit so I could fix up the tear on my knee but that's been lost for a few weeks now. I swear, Derrin stole it and hid it among his hoard like the plush dragon he is. "Okay listen here, you little shit-'' The laughter bubbling up in my throat quickly vanished when we suddenly heard the quiet th-thud, th-thud, th-thud of hoofsteps to our right. A loud exhale soon followed as the massive shape of a horse's head peeked around the corner, liquid as thick as syrup dripping from the snout and the mouth. It's soulless eyes stared at where we sat as if it knew exactly where we rested. The neon flames on its neck blazed with a violent energy unlike anything I've ever seen before and illuminating the area around us. Pieces of rough fabric and coarse fur rested in the pools of the tar, the fabric stained and mangled by the substance as if it tainted the fabric to the point of no return. Small tufts of cotton sank into the horse's skin— if you could call it that.

There was a massacre here.

"A Nightmare…" Damond's voice dripped with fear as he gripped his weapon with his long tail and preparing to lunge at the towering enemy. "Time to avenge my fallen brethren." The fire reflected in his eyes to highlight the anger and pain that delved deep into his soul, tearing it to shreds with every passing moment. I turned to face the horse and stared into the glowing holes of his eyes, crouching and preparing to lunge. The calm settled on the field as the wind suddenly stopped for a few seconds and all fell silent. The only noises that could be heard were the crackling of the Mare's flames and breathing.

As if rehearsed for years and then led by a conductor, we lunge towards the Nightmare at the same time with our weapons held high.

#writing #write #writers #polyester #pollution #nightmare #fiction #short story #short fic #short fiction

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kiruuuuu · 1 year

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Kiru's Advent Calendar, Day 11🧈

Hiya! Remember Day 7, when a few operators agreed to participating in a Great Rainbow Bake Off? Here's the first part of the preparation period, featuring Sledge 😊 (Sledge/Maestro, Rating G, humour/fluff, ~1.3k words)

“It is so refreshing to witness you coming into your own in the kitchen, tesoro!” Maestro flutters around him, visibly excited even though absolutely nothing is going on – all Sledge is doing is staring forlornly at the pitiful-looking light brown slab mocking him from the counter. “You’ve never shown any interest in cooking at all, it is wonderful that you’ve decided -”

“Just for the contest”, he interrupts his husband with a sigh. It’s not the first time he’s reminded him of the occasion and something tells him it won’t be the last. “And if it keeps going like this, it’ll be the last time I produce anything edible. Well. Hopefully edible.”

Maestro’s enthusiasm flickers momentarily before returning full force. “There is no way you will fail, luce dei miei occhi, you excel at anything you attempt, be it rock climbing or weightlifting or surfing or snowboarding or…”

They look at each other for a long moment during which Sledge waits for the shoe to drop. He might be perfectly suited for anything physical, but most other things elude him. He just happens to have a very outdoors-y partner who encourages him to pursue new hobbies, thus creating the illusion of a jack-of-all-trades. Though to be fair, the main reason why he’s never picked up cooking was that Maestro kept telling him he was doing it wrong before taking over and finishing the dish himself, undoubtedly much better than the Scotsman ever could have. He doesn’t want to risk his lover dying of hyperventilation, and so the only time he touches a spatula or even a pot these days is to clean it.

“Well. All I’m saying is that I believe in you wholeheartedly, zuccherino. Is this your first attempt?” He indicates the sad-looking mass with a gesture more eager than it clearly deserves.

“Yeah. I thought I’d wing it, I helped my mum make shortbread a couple of times when I was young and I figured it can’t be that difficult.”

The brief pause gives him an instant uh-oh sensation, because if anyone on this earth is supportive enough to overlook utter disasters, it’s Maestro. So if even he shows some doubt, Sledge may as well toss the whole thing and go watch rugby. “I’m… sure it turned out fine, but this is just practice anyway. Shall we try it?”

He’s uncertain he wants to. With a vague sense of dread, Sledge gets a butter knife and tries to cut what he so generously called shortbread, only to find it’s entirely too tough for this kind of utensil. He switches to a bread knife and saws off a long strip, not missing the brief horror in Maestro’s features. “Go ahead then.”

His husband looks like he’s desperately trying not to say something and it’s a miracle that he doesn’t cross himself as he brings the bakeware to his mouth. He bites into it and has to rip the bit off with force.

Sledge doesn’t even go for a piece himself – if it turns out to be poisonous, he’d rather only one of them end up in hospital. Especially because he has to win their Bake Off in five days.

Once Maestro has finished chewing (a very long minute), he struggles for words. “Cuore mio, have I told you that you’re the light of my life? Nothing could ever get between -”

He rubs his temple. “Adrianito. Just… just tell me how bad it is.”

Even then, Maestro waits for an affirmative nod to curtly reply: “Seamus. This is bread.”

Oh. So… that’s not bad then, right? “It’s called shortbread. I’m not too far off then.”

The Italian stares at him. “I’m… are you – are you sure you’re Scottish? Have you ever had shortbread before? Do you know what it is? Do you think it’s bread baked by someone like James?”

Sledge can’t help but snort at the mental image of a flour-covered Smoke, presenting a beautiful loaf right out of a large brick oven and ceremoniously declaring it shortbread. “Maybe?”

Wordlessly, Maestro grabs his sleeve and drags him out of their kitchen, urging him to put on his shoes and coat and herds him outside. Without an explanation, they briskly walk a few minutes down the road until they’ve reached their usual, well-assorted bakery. At this point, it’s obvious what’s happening and Sledge resigns himself to be proven thoroughly wrong, as so often in their relationship when it comes to food. They both have their strengths: he ensures they don’t pay too much for insurances they don’t need, and Maestro feeds him healthy, delicious meals.

… maybe Sledge shouldn’t have agreed to this stupid competition in the first place.

“Oh my god”, he mumbles through a mouthful of the buttery, crumbly biscuit Maestro all but shoved into his face. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

He’s lucky his husband didn’t take that one personally. “And this is shortbread of questionable quality. You can make it even better.”

Sledge mouths an apology at the crestfallen young man behind the counter and manoeuvres them back outside to enjoy the rest of the biscuit. Then he realises: “Wait, are you saying I can make this myself?!”

“You can add anything you like, too. Chopped walnuts, lemon zest, chocolate coating, fresh herbs – flavour it however you want, amore mio!”

For a moment, he’s drunk on the possibilities, tries to conjure up combinations he’d enjoy but reality catches up to him fast. “I can’t do that. I have no experience, I don’t know what goes well together. And I’ll never get the consistency right.”

Maestro knows him too well, it’s obvious he’s predicting where Sledge is taking the conversation, and he’s doing his absolute best to try and steer them away from it. “If you put your mind to it, you can achieve anything. Now, since we’re already outside, should we -”

“Can you help me?”

The powerless look directed at him doesn’t feel good. Sledge didn’t lie, he is a sportsman, but he’s also competitive enough to want a fighting chance. And for that, he’ll take any support he can get. “Caro mio -”

“I know I promised them you would have nothing to do with it. I don’t want you to come up with the recipe either, just… nudge me in the right direction. Give me a little push.”

It’s rare enough that he asks for Maestro’s aid that despite the circumstances, the beautiful face before him is conflicted. Eventually, the Italian gently shakes his head though not without taking Sledge’s hand into his. “Tesoro mio, I almost wish I could support you, but I can’t. I might be skilled in cooking but baking is a completely different discipline, one I have not mastered myself. Please do not ask me again unless you want me to be overcome by sadness over my own shortcomings. I will cheer you on yet cannot provide insight. May you be fortunate enough to succeed where I have failed.”

And at these words, Sledge is suddenly filled with determination. Even Maestro can’t bake? In that case, he has to make it. He’s already picturing the two of them, working side by side in their kitchen, Maestro preparing the main course while Sledge bakes the dessert, them dancing around each other and exchanging little updates about what they’re doing… and it’s so homely, so blissful that he offers a serious nod. “Okay. For you, I will try.”

The deep, sensual kiss he receives as a sign of gratitude wipes his mind clean of a quiet, intrusive thought that doesn’t manage to claw its way back to the surface for the rest of the preparation period:

Doesn’t he bake savoury things all the time?

#rainbow six siege #fanfic #grbo #great rainbow bake off #sledge #maestro #sledge/maestro #these two just warm my heart #I tried making shortbread yesterday and it turns into sand when you eat it #tastes delicious but needs to be eaten with tea oops #kac

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makeste · 3 years

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but I just feel too tired to be fighting

this is a follow-up post to what I said in my recap the other day about this arc being the Deku Angst arc, as opposed to the Villain Hunt arc or the Deku SIXQUIRKS Exhibition arc. I feel like the fandom discussion tends to focus on the flashier parts of the chapters -- the sexy villains and the new quirk reveals and the Shindous -- each week, and so the quieter emotional beats sometimes get overlooked, especially since the character arc here is playing out in little bits and pieces over time rather than all at once.

this has always been a very reactionary fandom, and there’s a tendency to judge the chapters week to week without ever going back to look at how they all fit into the big picture. so I figured I would try to attempt that, and basically go chapter by chapter here to look at what exactly Horikoshi is setting up and how it all fits together.

so let’s start with the end of chapter 306, which is when the arc officially kicks off. specifically with the very last page:

this is imo one of the best pages Horikoshi has ever drawn. I got the sense that this was a scene he’d had in his mind’s eye for quite a long time, and that he was excited to finally get to this part of the story. it’s extremely effective as both a chapter-ender, and an arc-opener. like, look at this:

it establishes the initial premise of the new arc -- the world is in chaos, and Deku is now seemingly on his own

it leaves the readers with a number of questions. why did Deku leave U.A.?? is he really on his own now?? why does he look so beat-up and exhausted?? what is he up to?? what is the world like now that all these villains have been unleashed and the heroes have been decimated?? and most importantly of all, what the fuck is going to happen next??

it pays homage to some of Horikoshi’s comic book influences -- Batman in particular

it dramatically hits us with that “THE FINAL ACT BEGINS” and lets us know that shit is getting real now

that’s some good shit. so much so that I think people tended to overlook the other notable thing about this page amidst all of the initial excitement and discussion and speculation about where the series was headed. and that is the fact that the final panel in this chapter is NOT the panel of Deku standing above the city. the very last panel, the one that this chapter actually ends on, is instead the close-up of Deku’s face. his face, which is covered in shadow; and his eyes, which have dark circles under them and are prominently missing the usual flecks of light that give him his signature “sunny optimistic shounen protagonist” look.

not to mention this last line here, which is a call back to the very first time we saw the 14-year-old Deku way back in chapter one.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Horikoshi chose to throw this reference in. nor is it a coincidence that THIS is the scene he actually chose to end the chapter on. what this does is show us the drastic shift in Deku’s emotional state of mind, and his attitude towards being a hero. he’s gone from being thrilled and excited to being jaded and exhausted. he’s matured, but at a great cost. it’s always been his dream to be a hero, but “be careful what you wish for” is a popular adage for a reason. and right now he looks the furthest thing from happy.

and this is the emotional beat that Horikoshi chooses to end the chapter on. this is the panel that closes out the War arc, and begins the final act. to me the message could not be clearer -- this arc will be about the exploration of Deku’s character, and his struggle as he tries to live up to the expectations that have been placed on him as the Last Holder of OFA and quite possibly the World’s Only Hope.

it’s a character arc that builds on a lot of the things we’ve already learned about Deku over the course of the series, such as the fact that he is reckless, and that he focuses on others often at the expense of himself. but more importantly, it’s an arc that finally expands on the dark side of what has up until now been a net positive for Deku -- the power of OFA. up until this point, despite its ups and downs, it’s been a boon for Deku overall and has allowed him to pursue his dream. but now we’re finally reaching the point where the monkey’s paw part of the OFA blessing/curse finally starts to come into play. OFA gives Deku more power than he could have ever dreamed of, but it also comes with a built-in destiny that he can’t opt out of whether he likes it or not. AFO is on the loose and out there trying to destroy the world. and now everyone has pinned their hopes on this sixteen-year-old kid, and the question of whether or not the sixteen-year-old kid is ready is apparently not one that anyone feels inclined to ask (possibly because they’re afraid that the answer might be “no”).

he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. he has to do it, because there’s no one else who can. that’s the kind of pressure that is on Deku now.

and on that note, we begin the Deku Angst arc.

chapter 307

this in hindsight was mostly just a set-up chapter to better establish the current state of the BnHA world at large (spoilers: it’s not good), while also providing an answer for one of the big initial questions of the arc -- namely, “what happened to all of those villains that AFO released from Tartarus?” these are important things to touch on, but the pacing could definitely have been better, and the bulk of the chapter was dedicated to providing fanservice to all of the Shindou fans who spammed the most recent popularity poll (which, whatever lol). anyway, so this was the sole chapter thus far with absolutely no Deku development. thankfully the arc picks up from there.

chapter 308

on to the next one! this was the one and only chapter thus far which I think actually qualifies as an “exhibition fight.” this was definitely all about showing off Deku’s current powerset, as well as introducing us to another of the SIXQUIRKS. however, there was Deku development here as well, most notably in this scene:

this is the scene that got a lot of people speculating that this arc was going to focus on Deku hunting down all of the old villains. but I think people got so caught up in that speculation that they overlooked what this scene tells us about Deku’s mindset. and yes, there is new information being revealed here, and it’s not just a rehash of the stuff we already knew. like yes, we know that Deku was shaken up by the recent encounters with Dabi and Tomura, and we know that made him start questioning why villains become villains in the first place, and all that good stuff, and that’s great. however, there are two additional important things that this scene helps establish for us.

the upcoming battle with TomurAFO is weighing heavily on Deku’s mind. this is something that will become a recurring theme in this arc. Deku is thinking about this constantly. the question of what to do when he finally encounters TomurAFO again is knocking incessantly at the back of his mind, and this won’t be the last time it comes up.

Deku is using these villain encounters as test runs. can Tomura be redeemed?? is he just being stupid and naïve?? or is this really something worth attempting?? the interesting thing about this is that Deku’s resolve to save people is usually so strong and unwavering that it’s more than enough to overcome any doubts that he might have. but this time it seems like the repeated objections posed by the Vestiges and Gran Torino have really gotten to him. it’s possible I’m just reading way too much into things, but to me it really feels like Deku’s recent attempts at Talk no Jutsu were meant to do more than just show his growing awareness that the line between heroes and villains is thinner than he once imagined. they’re also serving as trial runs for the real test, when it finally comes. if he can “save” even a villain like Muscular, there’s hope for him being able to save Tomura as well. and so that moment when Muscular rejects him out of hand is all the more disappointing to him, even if it wasn’t really unexpected. basically it wasn’t the answer that he had been hoping for.

aside from those little notes though, like I said, this was unquestionably an exhibition fight first and foremost. which is fine; we needed to establish where Deku is currently in terms of strength, and it was also just fun to see him kick some ass, ngl. in terms of story purpose this chapter was similar to 219, which showed us how Shouto and Katsuki had powered up after getting their provisional licenses. people who don’t care about those characters might argue that these fights weren’t necessary, but as someone who stans all three characters hard, I would disagree! but anyways, moving on.

chapter 309

in contrast to the previous chapter, this chapter focuses more on establishing Deku’s current mental state, as opposed to his physical state. and this is what we learn:

(1) Deku is ~technically~ being shadowed/accompanied by All Might and the Hawksquad (but in practice he’s avoiding them).

(2) it was Deku’s own decision to leave U.A., and he did it because he didn’t want anyone else getting hurt in order to protect him.

and finally, (3) Deku’s game plan is to stop Tomura and All for One before they reach full power.

this last part is very important, because it means there’s a countdown in effect. as far as Deku is concerned, there’s only a finite amount of time before TomurAFO becomes unstoppable. which means that he’s not only under “gotta get stronger” pressure, but time pressure as well. he doesn’t have the luxury of taking his time and training in safety. he’s being rushed now; this is do-or-die.

this chapter is also the first in this arc in which we get to see Deku’s expressions without the hood covering up his face, and what we see is very telling. as previously stated, the light is gone from Deku’s eyes. he keeps his expressions very neutral, and the only time we even see a hint of a smile is when he hugs his mom in the flashback, and it’s clear from the dialogue (“it’s okay, I’ll come home to you”) that he’s doing it for her sake in order to comfort her.

but aside from that, this is very much not the Deku we’ve grown accustomed to. this is the chapter that really establishes his current mental state imo. above all else, he’s afraid that more people will get hurt because of him, and so he’s distancing himself from everyone around him. and he’s also morbidly preoccupied with the inevitability of having to face TomurAFO again, and soon. the chapter ends on the flashback of Gran giving him his cape, and telling Deku that “killing can be another way to save someone.” there’s a lot on this kid’s mind, to say the least.

chapter 310

this chapter opens with a gang of civilians who are trying to open fire on a nice fox lady whose only crime was walking around in the rain at night. Deku intervenes to save her, and it’s the first time in this arc that we see anything close to the “old” Deku, who just wanted to save people with a smile.

but it’s bittersweet, because all the lady can talk about is how scared she was, and how horrible everything is right now. and so Deku, who feels responsible in a lot of ways for everything that’s happened, just feels that much more pressure to somehow make things right again.

there’s also this extra throwaway line which is especially heartbreaking:

“I can’t afford to be around anyone.” fucking ouch. just reinforcing once more how incredibly isolated Deku is right now -- not by choice, but because he feels like it’s not safe to let anyone else get close to him. and so he’s out here running around this dystopian cityscape in the middle of the night in the pouring rain all on his own, and neglecting himself to the point where All Might practically has to force a bento on him.

but does he complain? of course not. because his focus is never on himself. instead, when he settles down to eat, his thoughts immediately drift back to, guess who...

it’s that time pressure once again. “unless I draw out One for All’s full power, I can’t stop any of this.” it’s just nonstop, I have to get stronger, I’m running out of time, I have to do better, and constantly thinking about that inevitable confrontation.

Deku is a thinker, you guys. and when left to his own devices he will overthink, every time. his mind will run in endless loops while he mentally works his way through all of the possibilities. and that’s one of his greatest strengths, don’t get me wrong, but at a time like this it’s also one of his greatest weaknesses. it’s just so fucking easy for him to get stuck in his own head, in his endless rambling thoughts and analyses. and without anyone else there to help distract him, or help him focus, he’s become fixated on his mission, and it’s slowly consuming him.

this, incidentally, is also the chapter in which we finally see Two and Three’s faces, and learn why Two in particular is so reluctant to lend his power to Deku. he appears to be the lone holdout at this point, so stay tuned on that, because I don’t doubt this will wind up being crucial to Deku’s future development, however it winds up playing out.

chapter 311

this chapter flips back to the Hawksquad for the first half, so we get a brief respite from the ongoing Dekuangst. right before we switch back though, we do get confirmation of something we had pretty much already guessed:

like, that much was already apparent based on what we’d seen (the bags under his eyes; the fact that he refused to sit still in any one place for very long even at night), but it’s always nice to get the official confirmation so that people can’t dispute it lol. so yeah, Deku isn’t sleeping much. and not eating much either, if all he’s getting is the occasional bento from Dadmight. so basically not taking care of himself at all, huge shocker there. but this is something that’s important enough to the story that Horikoshi took the time to point it out in the dialogue, in addition to all of the visual clues we’d already gotten.

and just in case we needed to drive that point in any further, this chapter ends with the appearance of Lady Nagant! like yeah, no shit Deku isn’t getting much sleep, what with him having to fend off racist civilians and hired assassins every five fucking minutes. smdh. can he live??

chapter 312

so this is the chapter that properly introduces Lady Nagant, who maaaay or may not be one of the primary antagonists of this arc?? like, it’s really unclear right now tbh, but she gets hyped up by Hawks and AFO, and has a flashback and a mysterious past and a weird trump card (where did you go, Overhaul) and all that good shit, so yeah? one can hope at any rate.

but anyway. so to his credit, Deku’s first thought is to retreat, but he quickly abandons that plan once he figures out Nagant’s location. this is played off like a logical strategic decision at first, but the subsequent chapter quickly makes it clear that Deku’s decision to take the fight to Nagant is less rational than he might have you think.

chapter 313

so yeah. last but not least, the most recent chapter, in which Deku’s real reason for targeting Lady soon becomes apparent:

what’s more, it quickly becomes clear that he miscalculated and probably would have been better off following Hawks’s advice, seeing as he promptly gets himself shot, and subsequently realizes that AFO gave Nagant an extra quirk, something he hadn’t taken into account. but instead of cutting his losses and running at this point, he doubles down instead and not only breaks out Smokescreen, but also the Third’s quirk which he has never even used before.

it’s worth noting that both En and the Third start telling him to chill at this point, and warn him that what he’s attempting is too dangerous. but tbh if they were expecting him to listen, they haven’t been reading the same arc I’ve been reading. once again, Horikoshi makes it clear that Deku has one thing and one thing only on his mind right now.

of course. once again it all comes back to this. hunt down AFO. it doesn’t matter that he’s exhausted. it doesn’t matter that he’s just been shot twice. it doesn’t matter that Hawks, despite knowing what Deku was capable of with his OFA abilities, specifically warned him away from this one person only. it doesn’t matter that even the Vestiges are trying to tell him you’re going too fast and you’re trying to do too much and it’s too dangerous.

he just doesn’t care. long story short, the only thing that matters to Deku right now is tracking down and defeating TomurAFO. and as the person who knows him best once so aptly put it, “he doesn’t take himself into account.” and therein lies the major challenge of this arc.

and so this is where we’re currently at now. and this has been a very long post, but if nothing else, I hope I was able to get this one point across: there is absolutely no way that Deku will be able to defeat TomurAFO as he is now. not a chance in hell. somehow he’s managed the uncommon feat of waging a war of attrition against himself, which is really quite an accomplishment. he’s not taking care of himself, and he’s refusing to listen to sound advice from the people surrounding him, and is trying to skip ahead to the final boss battle before he’s ready, because the guilt and pressure from feeling responsible for the current situation are eating him up. the only way that the world can go back to normal is if he can defeat AFO; therefore he has to do it as soon as possible, because time is running out and everyone is counting on him. this is who Deku is. and this is what inevitably happens when his saving mentality is taken to extremes, and left unchecked.

anyway so to wrap up this post now, I do think this arc is a lot more cohesive than it’s gotten credit for thus far, and Deku is the glue holding it all together. I for one am loving the exploration of his character and all the subtle little angsty touches as we build up to the big moment, whenever it finally comes. just keep in mind though that if his decisions right now seem reckless and short-sighted, it’s because they’re supposed to seem that way, because Deku is not in a good mental state right now. the cracks are finally showing in our perfect protagonist, just like everyone has been wanting this whole time. he is just a kid. he is doing his best. he is trying far too hard to do his best, and it is hurting him so badly, but he doesn’t even realize. this arc is not an endorsement of the Angsty Nomad Hero lifestyle, lol. it’s the exact fucking opposite, and I think it’s being wildly misinterpreted with all of the emphasis on “oh look at that, he mastered another quirk with no effort”, as opposed to “oh look at that, he is shutting down emotionally and is a few more missed nights of sleep away from a complete and total breakdown.”

tl;dr the overarching storyline of this arc is all about Deku slowly falling apart due to his trauma from Jakku, and the subsequent pressure that was put on him by the Vestiges with their whole “GUESS WHAT, YOU’RE THE LAST USER OF OFA, THAT’S RIGHT, IT’S ALL ON YOU BUDDY” pep talk. and mark my words, things are not going to go according to plan. something is going to go terribly wrong here. whether it’s something happening to All Might, or AFO setting up a trap for him, either way Deku is being set up to fail in a major way. unless of course, someone (or a group of someones) manages to intervene first, and possibly stage an intervention or something. it’s what he needs right now, but idk if Horikoshi is going to make it that easy.

anyway, but in other words, the point of this arc is not to show how much stronger Deku has gotten and how he doesn’t even need his friends anymore. it’s the exact opposite -- the point of this arc is to show that Deku needs his friends now more than ever. that in spite of OFA and all of its mystical trappings and fancy SIXQUIRKS, Deku can’t do this alone. he needs his friends. that’s the core message. and right now, we are at the “I can get by on my own” part of the story. and the part we are all waiting for, but which is coming -- I guarantee it is coming, you guys -- is “the thing is, you don’t have to.”

and that shit is going to slap hard you guys. and I for one can’t wait. but until then, enjoy the angst.

#bnha 313 #midoriya izuku #bnha meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #long post #like 'long' is really an understatement here lol #our little green protagonist is really going through it you guys #and I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings about it

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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puredivinity · 3 years

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a moonlit confession | eren jaeger

❣︎ hi hi!! welcome to the longest thing i’ve written and a project that was spawned by, and added onto by @jean-does-not-have-a-horseface and @gojosweets. i adore them very much and without them, i probably wouldn’t have done this ngl. this is a very not historically accurate greek mythology au <3

❣︎ warnings: nsfw (18+), very slight breeding kink, mutual masturbation, cunnilingus, handjobs, very soft post return sex, slight and non-descriptive mentions of death. it’s also unedited.

❣︎ word count: 3.2k

To you, there is nothing worse than yearning for your lover.

A lover that you are unsure of.

Wondering if they’re okay, if they’re breathing, if they’re alive. If they’ve made it out in one piece, physically. It would be a miracle if they made it out whole mentally, knowing good and well how harsh the trials of battle are. You remind yourself that he is tough, and that he is strong. He is your warrior; your love, your beauty, your grace. He is there for you in all realms, despite not being there physically. You are together forever and always, in spirit and in body.

The wind blows the fabric of your gown, picking it up off the floor of the balcony beneath you. The coldness of the surface causes you to hiss when your feet make contact with it, but it’s quickly pushed to the back of your mind, buried beneath the flurry of uprising thoughts. Where is he? You wonder, painful thoughts tainting your mind. Your fingers curl around the rail of the balcony that overlooks the rest of your dwelling -- the beautiful home Eren’s parents had gifted you as a present of your union. The union of which they blessed and honored.

The moonlight tonight was of no other night. It shone brightly and beautifully, high up in the sky. It overlooked you, basking you in its glow. It illuminated all that was high and below, and it became your beacon of hope. For when Eren was gone, the moon was what you turned to. He was your sun, and you were his moon. It is what he told you the night before he left; your last night together where all you could do was hold one another, love each other, cling on like your last thread of life. It could’ve been his, for all you know.

“I miss you,” You speak out into the wind and it carries your words with its breeze, high and low, but not forgotten. “I miss you so much, Eren, I--” your words halt there, fearing the worst. Fearing to speak the worst, fearing to think the worst. In your heart, you know he is alive. You feel it in your bones. But your mind is a different story. You cast your eyes downward to gaze into the everclear pool of water below you, tracing the fountains with your sorrowful gaze. It is clear enough that you can see your own reflection, down to every detail. Every tear that pools and threatens to spill down your cheeks, the glossy and gloomy gaze your eyes hold -- all of it.

You are about to make a plea to the highest god when you make out a face beside yours, that looks strangely like Eren’s and strong, sturdy arms engulf you from behind.

At first, you don’t believe it. It feels unreal, although it is all you have ever wanted. All you could remember wanting since he had left you.

His eyes met yours in the pristine water below you and your heart leapt in your chest. It smelled like him, looked like him, and even felt like him. The familiar arms he held you in, day and night, day to day, night to morning. The whisper of your name was careful against your skin as he pressed your body to his, fingers breaching the thin fabric of your gown. He was still clad in his armor, bronze and firm, and you wonder if it hurts him.

A kiss is pressed to the side of your neck. He is trying to get you to look at him, to bless him with those beautiful eyes of yours, but you will not. He wonders if you’re mad at him, but one glance at the way you’ve melted into him tells him otherwise.

“I’m here,” he confirms, pulling away from you and slowly turning you to look at him, “Do you see me, Princess?”

Of course you see him, you think, but do you really see him?

You have missed him for forever and ever, yet you cannot speak a word to him. You have imagined speaking to him, loving him for days on end, and you cannot say a word. Perhaps it’s the shock, or the sheer bewilderment you feel, but regardless - you are speechless, and rightfully so.

He takes your hand in his, carefully brushing the back of yours with his thumb as he brings it up to his chest. He places it over his bare chest, armor long removed, resting in the place it used to be. Right over his heart, right where his heart thumps in his chest, Where it pounds in his chest, where it lives in his chest. A sign of life that you almost mistake for your imagination, no matter how real he may feel.

But then, you feel it. You feel it the second you look at him, the second your eyes stare into those beautiful jade green orbs. And you fall. Your tears came quickly, rushing out of you, and it is then that you step forward and wrap your arms tightly around him, ear pressed to his chest. You feel him. You see him. He is real. He is your lover, and he has returned to you.

Eren wastes no time in embracing you just as tightly, if not more. His hands clutch the material of your nightgown, and it brings him down to earth; grounds him like no other. It is a warm feeling, the feeling of recognition, the feeling of familiarity, the feeling of being home. But it is not one that he would ever, ever want to relinquish.

“I love you,” the words fall from both your lips at the same time, desperate to tell the other what you couldn’t just hours prior, “I love you so much.”

He sweeps you right off your feet and right up into his arms, walking you backward to the balcony of which you just left, and standing firmly between your spread legs. He leans forward and engulfs you in a kiss, hands working their way from up your shoulders, where he takes his time in caressing you -- fingertips making sure to hit every groove and smooth in your skin -- down to your waist, thumbing your gown. You fear not for a second that you will fall, for your utmost trust is placed within him. And so, you use the balcony for leverage as he works you, sighing prettily into his mouth while he strokes you.

His fingers carefully undo your ties, the silk threads sliding off and undone, leaving you bare to the moonlight above you. And, oh glory, is it a sight. Eren pulls away from you, admiring the way you look underneath it. The soft glow of the light hits you well -- the way your chest heaves, rising and falling with slightly labored movements, the way your lips are parted with light breaths from the kissing, the way your hair is splayed perfectly behind you, and you are perfect in that moment.

Your beauty rivals that of Aphrodite, and even then could you give her a long run for her money.

He presses long, open mouthed kisses to your warm skin, leaving behind a beautiful sucking noise as he did so. He moved from shoulder to shoulder, to your collarbone, gently nipped at a few pieces with his teeth, basking in the delightful noises you offered him. Drinking you in like he was ravenous, hungry for your touch, your breath, your everything. For you were his rain on a dry night.

You had just one worry in the midst of it all - the servants. They would come to certainly check on your wellbeing, they usually did so around this time of night. You reached a hand to softly push him off and he looked up at you, eyes full of concern.

“The servants,” you breathed, but he only shook his head at you.

“I dismissed them earlier, before I came,” he quelled your worries with a gentle whisper, soft eyes staring right back into yours. “They won’t be back, Princess,” He assured you, and his words washed away any uneasiness you felt prior. It washed over you like a wave, pushing any bad feelings away from the surface - leaving him a clean slate to build on.

After a nod of confirmation from you and a soft thumb stroke of his cheek, he continues. He realizes how much he has missed you, and it hits him heavier than it did before he returned. It is now, when you are underneath him and those pretty moans and soft cries of his name come from you, that he truly understands the weight of your absence. His absence from you.

Warm lips kiss from the middle of your collarbone, stopping at the top of your cleavage where they rest for a while. A moment in which Eren is sure to look up at you, to catch your gaze before he continues. Through your half-lidded stare, eyes hazy with want and fervor, you meet him. Eren takes his moment to press a chaste kiss to the top and give a soft bite of love to the raised flesh of your right breast, before taking your nipple in his mouth. His tongue brushes over the pert bud, dipping the center of his tongue to get it right, to make your back arch in that special way. And it does, so beautifully, pressed flush against his front as you sigh into the air, eyes fluttering shut in complete and utter bliss. It is your first time together since he has returned, and it is all about you. Forever about you.

You call out his name, and he releases your drenched bud with a soft ‘pop’ of his lips, sliding over to the other one. The ends of his hair brush your skin, igniting a trail of goosebumps to follow. Your hand moves from its place on the balcony to rest on his shoulder, softly digging your nails in the flesh of his back. You call out to him again, rocking your hips slowly while he takes his time with you. He is careful, he is gentle, but oh goodness is he a tease. He is leaving you itching, wanting for more, almost so bad that you’re willing to beg, but he would give it all to you. Give it all for you.

You do not have to ask, he will deliver.

“I love you,” he says to you when he pulls away, his hands flutter down to your thighs and lifts them off the ground and up over his shoulders. He sinks to his knees and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, all while maintaining eye contact with you. He can feel the heat on his face; the warmth of your arousal, your want for him.

Eren curls his hands around your thigh, holding your legs open for him. And then, he takes you. He licks slowly up your slit, glicking the tip of his tongue over your clit a few times. He laps and laps at you, drinking in your taste and flavor as it simmers on the flat of his tongue. Your moans emerge into the wind, and for a second you wonder if the servants can hear you. You experience a shadow of embarrassment at the pleasureful noises you’re making, for you’re sure they know what you’re up to by now, but it’s pushed out of the way by Eren. He pulls you right out of your head and back to him, and it’s then that you notice that you’ve been unconsciously grinding on his face.

You go to shoot out an apology for your actions, but Eren stops you before you can even say a word.

“Come for me,” he utters, yet you hear him loud and clear, “Come for me, Princess.” His request is more of a plea, urging for you to unravel beneath him. Your heart flutters at his words, and you comply. His soft spoken words send you falling over, your release washing over you in short and smooth waves while you sigh into the wind. His name falls from your lips over and over, and he continues his actions until you give him a gentle nudge to stop.

He’s pulled you from beneath the surface of the water, and he’s clutching you carefully, like a seashell on the sand.

Until he’s ready to dip you back in again.

Eren rises back to his feet, letting your legs fall from his shoulders until he picks them up and curls them around his waist. He is face to face with you again, and you can adore him. The way his eyes shine, brightly with his love for you, the slickness of his lips from devouring you, and the way he tastes when he kisses you -- it is unmatched and unrivalled. It is one like no other.

Your legs are secure around him, holding him tightly and locking in place so he cannot leave. As if he would leave. He whispers a declaration of love for you, one that you’ve heard a million times before but cannot tire of. One that is music to your ears and overpowers any and every other thought you have. Your center of focus is him, and his is you.

Hands thread through his locks, settling at the base of his scalp. You press them between your fingertips while your forehead rests upon his, gazing into his eyes and drinking him in like an oasis. The sight of him is beautiful. He is beautiful. Your lover, your one and only. You have to admit, war did him well. He was a sight to behold, a vision to see. One you want to treasure.

Your hand falls to where he is hard beneath your touch, running your finger up the length of his bare shaft. He shudders underneath your feather light stroke, and his eyes plead for more. For you to touch him, for you to love him. And you do.

Your hand wraps around it, tugging slowly and steadily. His hips sway with your movement, rocking with every twist and maneuver of your hand, following it perfectly - syncing with the rhythm. His moans are beautiful, you think, and in htat moment you want nothing more to please him, and to show him the same love he showed you. Your hand still rests in his hair, fingernails lightly scratching his scalp. Lovingly, you gaze at him. You admire him for what he is while he sits in the heavenly moonlight, keening perfectly for you. You can tell he is close - he knows he is close, but he stops you. A gentle grasp of your wrist stills your hand, and he tells you, “Inside.”

You nod and retract your hand, allowing him to shift between you and he sits at your entrance, head slipping between your folds. The slick of your core coats it, as trails past, ensuring to brush your clit - one, two, three times, each time eliciting a noise louder than the previous one.

“Eren,” you sighed his name, and his eyes glimmered with delight. He let out a pleased hum, continuing for just a second longer before he pressed a kiss to your lips in compliance, soaking up the gasp that escaped you once he’d reached it. His right hand cupped the back of your knee and his left perched upon your thigh, eyes focused on you as he entered you. He watched your face contort in pleasure when he did so, and his grip on you never relented.

He sank into your core, pleasurable keens falling from him, mixing with your similar sounds of delight. You felt wonderful, and so did he. He gave you two slow, short thrusts to further bury himself in you, and his breath fanned your face. He sank in fully, holding still for a moment. Holding still to breathe in this moment, to enjoy the feeling of you after being without you for so long.

Eren remembers the time he was without you - he was out, fighting for war, fighting for peace. One by one, he watched his comrades fall, in front of his very eyes. It was horror on those battlefields, on those streets. He was terrified of the thought of meeting the same fate they did. The same misfortune they did. Throughout his time fighting, throughout his time away, all he thought about was you and how he could not wait to come home.

And now that he is home, he doesn’t want to leave. Not alone. He doesn’t want to leave without giving you something to remember him by, without starting something with you. Without giving you the family that the two of you had always dreamed of, the one that he promised you he’d return to the night before he left. What you two laid awake in bed talking about, when he kissed your fingertips and honored you with a promise, honored you with his word. He’ll be damned if he goes off without that.

He pushes your body up against the railing of the balcony, still holding your leg open and he pulls out, dragging himself slowly out of your dripping heat, and then pushes back in. You moan, and your eyes fall down to where you connect with him; become one with him. Eren moves his hips with purpose and desire, thrusting steadily in your throbbing heat. He fills you, spreading your walls wide with every thrust, every movement, and you feel that unmistakable flutter in the depths of your belly. He hits it just right, tip fluttering against the spot that had you teetering, hanging just over your release.

“Eren,” you moaned his name and nearly melted at the look he gave you, “I love you. I love you so so so--Yes!” you babbled, not caring how loud you got or who could hear you. Eren felt your words with his entire being, pleased to know that you felt just as good, if not better than he did. Pleased to know that he was the source.

“I wanna put a baby in you, ‘Rincess,” he tells you, as he picks his other hand up off your thigh, and moves it downward to your slick folds.

Eren used his thumb to rub your swollen and puffy clit. “Come for me,” He pleaded with you once more, “Come for me, please, Princess.” Two short rubs did it in for you, and a string of pleased cries with his name fell from you as you came. His eyes never left yours as he filled you, and spilling himself deep inside of you.

The comedown was pleasing - the two of you remained like that, holding each other for as long as you possibly could. A thin layer of sweat coated your bodies, but neither of you cared. You were happy to just be in each other’s arms after making peaceful love.

“I want a family with you,” Eren confessed to you, and his confession took you by surprise. “I don’t want to leave again. Not without a family, not without the thing we’ve always dreamed of. You deserve that.”

His moonlit confession.

tagging: @levilaughlove69, @proseofpandemonium, @starstruckkittensweets, @rainteslerrrr, @alrightberries, @redhairedace, @jean-does-not-have-a-horseface, @jaegerbrat, @asterroidd, @imonmylastthreadofsanity, @hexbestfriend, @thethyri

#eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren x reader #eren x reader smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x reader smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot smut #snk smut #tw: breeding #tw: breeding kink

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kagstea · 3 years

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kageyama t. - purple hearts

kageyama tobio x f!reader

description: kageyama always showed a slight interest in certain love letters of yours, but you never thought they would be so important.

warnings: angst (as always)

At least a couple times a week, you opened your locker to find a few letters. They were confessions, of course. While you appreciate them, you never bothered to read them since you wouldn’t accept any. They all went in your bag, before finding their way into a metal box under your bed. From there they would remain until you would eventually get curious, and open them in the near future.

“Ah, another love letter for Karasuno’s princess?” Hinata mocked one day after class.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You asked him, turning the letter over in your hand and glancing at the sticker that sealed it quickly.

He leaned against the locker next to yours. “I’m waiting for Kageyama and- Well, speak of the devil.”

The boy walked towards you two. “What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. What took you so long?”

Kageyama eyed the letter in your grasp. “I forgot something. Is that another purple heart?”

While you received all kinds of letters, the ones sealed with a purple heart were always consistent. The sender never failed to deliver at least once a month, and although you never opened any of them, it warmed your heart that the person continued to hold some love for you.

“Mhm.” You grinned, carefully placing it in your bag. “I was worried for a bit that they wouldn’t send it this month, but I should’ve known better.”

The three of you settled into a soft pace while walking out the school. Granted, the two of them had volleyball practice, but that never stopped them from walking you to the school entrance after the school day was finished.

With crossed arms, Hinata looked at you. “I don’t get it, Y/N. How come you don’t open them?”

“I don’t want to look at someone’s confession when I’m not going to like them back-”

“Ohh! Is it because you like someone?” His cheeky grin grew wide.

The abruptness of his question caught you off guard. With panic, you glanced at Kageyama, who was quiet throughout the conversation. But he didn’t seem bothered or even interested. It gave a funny feeling to your stomach.

With a scoff, you brushed his question off. “S-shut up! Why would you even ask something like that?” The tone of your voice lowered, and you avoided Hinata’s gaze knowing that on your cheeks lay an aggressive blush. “Anyways, I have to go home. Have fun at practice, guys!”

“Bye!” The two waved, watching as you disappeared before turning to each other. “Race you to the gym.”

After another month, you were pleased to find a familiar letter in your locker. The sight of it had you smiling before you could stop yourself.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Oh, my gosh! Tobio! Make some noise!” His sudden appearance startled you. You clenched the letter to your chest and tried to calm yourself down. Kageyama only raised an eyebrow at your reaction.

“I was standing here for two minutes already.”

“And you didn’t bother to let me know that?”

He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Purple heart again?”

This time, you didn’t try to hide your small smile. “Yeah. Don’t you have practice-”

“It’s cancelled because of the weather. Want to walk home together?” Kageyama held up an umbrella, prompting you to look outside. The gentle but growing falling of the rain already had you shivering.

“Yes, please.” You answered with eagerness, earning a grin from him.

As soon as the two of you stepped outside, you didn’t hesitate to cling to Kageyama’s side. While part of it was to keep both of you under the safety of the umbrella, another part saw it as an opportunity to be close to the person you had feelings for.

“Your shoulder’s getting wet.” You frowned, tugging him closer.

“It’s fine.”

“If you get sick, you can’t play volleyball, Tobio.” That logic allowed him to relax against your touch. “Sometimes I wonder how you would get through life without me.” You joked.

But he nodded. “Then, let’s promise to never find out.”

His response made your heart flutter. There were times when you wondered if he could possibly reciprocate your feelings. But you always talked yourself out of it, knowing that dating was one of the last things on his mind at the moment. Kageyama was always setting up the foundation for his volleyball career. There was no way he would set aside time to like someone.

Still, it was nice to even imagine.

“Unfortunately, I think I’m stuck with you. Have fun getting rid of me.” As he looked down at you, you stuck your tongue out playfully, making him let out a quick chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s until you open one of those damn letters and leave me.”

He meant it as a joke, but the reality of his words struck your heart. Slowly, your smile faded from your face, and you held his arm tighter. An unsettling silence bloomed as you stared at your feet.

Suddenly, the question tore from your throat. “Do you… do you think I would ever open them?”

Kageyama took a second, before asking you, “What reason do you have to not open them?” When you didn’t answer, he cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s not like you already have someone you like… do you?”

You should have told him. At that moment, you should have poured your heart out to him. But the fear of your confession backfiring held you back. Despite your heart screaming not to, you shook your head. “I don’t.”

Kageyama opened his mouth to say something, but his better judgment stopped him. “I see.”

You had to know now. “Well, how about you. Do you have someone that you… you know… like?”

It hurt you when he spoke.

“Yeah, I do.”

Those words made your heart twitch. Of course he already had someone he liked. It was only natural. Hearing that, you subconsciously loosened your hold on him. The walk home now seemed longer and it was killing you.

Once you two made it to your home, you suddenly were filled with nothing but regret. As you watched Kageyama go, a new realization hit. While you didn’t technically lose him, it sure felt like you did.

It was almost a blessing you didn’t attend his wedding, though you knew you would regret it. That still didn’t stop you from finding an opportunity to miss it via a work excuse. That was what Hinata said he would tell him at the reception.

Work was a good distraction. After all, it had been a good six years since you had last seen Kageyama at graduation. Your friendship was never the same after that rainy day, so you were surprised to receive a wedding invitation.

Although, you had yet to get a physical copy of the invitation. You had first heard word about the wedding through Hinata, who claimed Kageyama had personally thought about asking you to come. Though apparently an invitation was mailed, you never received it.

“Are you sure you can’t make it even to the reception?” Hinata asked you over the phone on your way home. “I’ll come get you right now, if you want.”

You smiled at his consideration. “No, that’s fine. It was a long day at work, I’m not sure I have the energy to even make it home. Just take lots of pictures to show me, alright?”

There was a pause on his end. “Okay, Y/N. Get home safe.”

“I will.” You told him before ending the call. A part of you suspected Hinata had once known about your feelings for his friend, but at this age you were grateful he never did anything.

It only took a half hour to get back to your apartment. Your feet were killing you and all you wanted was to just curl up in bed and fall asleep. Inside, you told yourself it was karma for finding an excuse to miss the wedding when you easily could have just gone. But, you’d rather be physically drained than mentally, so you convinced yourself it was a good choice.

Upon making your way to your door, a white envelope caught your eye. It was set right in front of your door. It wasn’t there before you left in the morning, so someone must have dropped it off while you were at work. Your legs burned as you reached down to grab it, carefully studying the handwriting on it. Of course, it was addressed to you, but when you turned it around, you almost dropped it.

Right in the middle of the envelope was a small, purple heart sticker, sealing it. It had been years since you had seen it, and your hands shook gently. Wasting no time, you carefully opened the letter, curious to find out who the sender was after all this time.

As soon as you pulled the contents from the envelope, a breath got caught in the back of your throat. You almost forgot how to breathe as you overlooked the invitation to Kageyama’s wedding. Overwhelmed, tears began to build up in your eyes. You reached into your bag, digging for your keys to unlock your door. Once you were in, you ran straight to your room and kneeled on the ground.

You almost thanked your younger self for bringing that metal box with you when you moved. For years, it had remained under your bed without you having a single thought of going through it. But now you were, specifically for the letters sealed by that damn sticker.

You grabbed the first one you saw, ripping it open with a sense of urgency. As you read the letter, your throat started to burn.

Dear, Y/N,

Today I accidentally bought two banana milks, so I gave one to you. You instantly drank it, and then took a nap on your desk right after. I know you probably won’t read this for a while, so I thought I would tell you how pretty you looked. Even with your hair sticking to your face because of your drooling, you still looked pretty.

That’s all.

Bye.

It was funny how you knew exactly what he was talking about. For you, you could remember that day as if it were yesterday. You wondered if it was the same for him.

Dear Y/N,

I know I like you, but I didn’t know it was possible to like you more. You proved that to me, when you showed up to our game today. I almost went the entire play without knowing you were there, but something made me look up into the stands, which I’m glad.

You’re always pretty, but seeing you in that moment cheering us on made me realize you are the prettiest in the world. I really mean that, so don’t think of yourself as less.

This seems forward, but I hope that even in the future, you’ll still come to my games so I can see your prettiness. But honestly, even if you don’t come, just stick by my side. That’s enough for me.

His words brought a painful smile to your face. It felt like you were talking to a younger Kageyama. Even today, you questioned if he remembered what he wrote to you.

All the letters were random, but managed to tug at your heart. You could recall every single moment that he wrote about, and it killed you how you never opened them sooner. It all made sense now. He would always mention the letters when you got them, and he lingered around your locker many times, no doubt waiting for you to turn your back so he could slip it in. You started to beat yourself up for not noticing that those were his letters, and you put them with the other confessions in the tiny metal box.

Finally, you reached the last letter he sent you. It was the last, because in the bottom corner he wrote goodbye in small writing. It took a moment to build up the courage to read it.

Dear Y/N,

This will probably be the last letter. I made sure you would know it’s the last, if you ever read it.

It’s been a few months since that day. Even though I know you don’t have feelings for me, I still did for you. I still do.

But it’s not doing either of us any good if I keep going. So I’ll stop for our sake.

That doesn’t mean I don’t love you, because I do. And I wish I could tell it to you in person, but I’m a coward, so I won’t. And you’ll never know if you don’t read this, so I’m really pushing my luck.

Thanks for being my first love. I wish you weren’t, because first loves never work out. But still, you were my friend too. And you were always by my side, even when I probably didn’t deserve you.

Anyways, I hope you read this letter before graduation. Perhaps that’s the boost we need to save our friendship, at least. Even if you don’t, and I’m talking to future Y/N, please come see me. I’m sure future me is waiting for you because I’m afraid I could never stop loving you.

That’s all, Y/N. Oh, and I also put some of the purple heart stickers in the envelope in case you ever miss them. Just don’t waste them, okay?

The letter was almost drenched in your tears. Sure enough, there were stickers in the envelope. The same ones he used every month that had you smiling even for a second when you saw them.

But seeing them now just brought you pain.

Especially when they were on his wedding invitation. An invitation that did not have your name along with his, and never will.

#kageyama tobio #kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama imagine #kageyama tobio x reader #haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyu fanfic #haikyu angst #kageyama oneshot #kageyama angst #haikyu imagine

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obiwanobi · 3 years

Note

okay but,, I can't get this idea out of my head of an au where anakin falls early, maybe halfway through the war– but instead of joining sidious or dooku he runs, terrified of himself, and stays somewhere he can't tear the galaxy apart like the darkest part of himself keeps goading him to. and he's there for a handful of months, and he's lonely and scared– until obi-wan comes to find him. and this man who anakin has loved for so long never stopped searching, razed a path through the galaxy (1/2)

I TOLD you all to stop sending me perfect prompts, god, here’s 3k that could be resumed by ‘it’s rotten work’ ‘not to me, not if it’s you’ because I have no self control:

"Anakin."

It's the first time in seven months that Obi-Wan pronounces his name with hope.

The back of the hooded figure visibly tenses in front of him. Obi-Wan can see his hand clenching around his glass, and his head starts turning in his direction but stops before Obi-Wan can see his eyes. Instead, it's in the Force that Anakin looks for him. It's a small, tentative tendril that crosses the space between them, ridiculously shy in comparison to the enthusiastic maelstrom that usually greets him when Obi-Wan extends his mind to Anakin.

But it's him. Too warm and barely controlled, the familiar flame of a burning pyre that Obi-Wan has never learned how to turn his eyes from.

Headache-inducing and almost unbearable, have been some words used to describe Anakin's presence in the Force. The most comforting of infernos, Obi-Wan has always thought.

Anakin feels surprised, and something close to joy colours the Force around him for a fleeting moment. Obi-Wan can feel the corners of his mouth turning up as he sighs affectionately.

"De—"

Then it all turns to panic.

He doesn't even have the time to realise that Anakin has retracted his signature behind durasteel shields the second it touched Obi-Wan's, because the man in front of him is already jumping to his feet, pushing the Twi'lek waiter away, and running for the exit of the cantina.

It leaves Obi-Wan stunned, arm still raised toward an empty chair.

Surprisingly, it's not panic that filled him, or even the persistent fear that if he loses Anakin now, after months of roaming the galaxy looking for him, then how long will it take before catching the smallest clue of his location again? No, this time, the worry and dread that has been his faithful companions for so long, now make way for something only Anakin knows how to infuse into him in the most inappropriate of times: exasperation.

"Anakin!" he yells, making the Rodian next to him jump in his seat.

Rushing outside, his eyes scan the street, trying to find a tall figure in a brown robe at the same time he stretches his senses through the Force to guide him toward his infuriating former padawan. Not used to the brightness of the twin suns and the constant particles of sand and dust floating around, Obi-Wan is almost sure that the glimpse of Anakin's presence he felt for half a second is only due to his inattention and not Obi-Wan's skills. For once, Obi-Wan isn't going to complain about Anakin's lack of focus: he starts running right away.

Anakin goes through three sharp turns, two attempts at climbing a roof and even one force-jump through the window of a shop, but Obi-Wan is determined to follow him wherever he goes. Even if he has to apologise to every irritated person he pushes out of the way.

"This is ridiculous," he says loudly, when he catches the dark brown robe trying to zigzag between stands, "I don't even know why you're running away from me!"

He thinks he can see Anakin throwing him a look, but with the hood over his face and one of the suns starting to set in front of him, can't be certain. It's only when Anakin seems to miss a turn and finds himself a few seconds later out of the streets, at the edge of a cliff overlooking the desert and its endless dunes, that he realises his mistake.

They're out of town now. There's nothing but the background noise of civilisation left behind, a warm wind sweeping the sand between them, and the twin suns bathing Anakin's silhouette in a glowing light.

"An—" Obi-Wan says, trying to get his breath under control. He's not used to such heat, and all the running, Force-jumping and the sweating really didn't help. Still, he takes a step toward him.

"Don't."

Even if it's just a simple word, hearing the sound of his voice soothes a deep ache that has plagued most of Obi-Wan's nights for the past few months.

Anakin is facing the canyon, the dune sea and the suns, a dark form with a double shadow, only showing his back to Obi-Wan. Even if he doesn't show his face, feelings bleed through his shields, as if he's still a padawan trying to get an awkward hold on the Force. There are confusion and anger, most of it directed at himself, Obi-Wan notes, and an all-encompassing veil of shame. Fear is here too, blending the edges of the mess produced by the cacophony of so many emotions clattering against each other. Obi-Wan can feel Anakin realising the flaws in his mental defences, and the spark of mortification before he hastily tries to rein it all in.

For a second, Obi-Wan thinks he's going to jump down the canyon just to avoid the embarrassment of inadvertently broadcasting his emotions.

"I won't stop chasing you now that I've found you," Obi-Wan warns, before the idea comes to Anakin's mind. The jump wouldn't kill him, but Obi-Wan really doesn't feel like tracking him through rocky canyons, tusken traps and krayt dragons. "I won't stop before you tell me why you're running away from me."

Anakin lowers his head without replying, shoulders sagging. Obi-Wan's feet move slowly. His mind reaches once again toward Anakin's, brushing against him in a wordless question. All irritation gone by now, he adds quietly:

"...And why you didn't come home."

Anakin's shields shudder. "You shouldn't have come."

"Anakin, the Separatists had you as their prisoner for almost a month. Rex told me he saw Grievous dragging your body to his ship himself. The Council waited for their terms of release, and when it didn't come, we thought you were dead."

"The Council," he snarls darkly, "they probably were happy to finally get rid of me."

"You know it's not true."

"No, I don't."

"Do you think I was happy, then?" Obi-Wan retorts, trying to stop the need to grab his robe and shake some senses into him. "Do you think Rex and I enjoyed having to plead with the Republic War Council to give us more time to look for you?"

The dark robe in front of him shuffles a bit. "You took the 501st to look for me?"

"Of course we looked for you! We went through every report of Grievous' flagship presence and got every intel we could gather about your possible location. There was no clue in any Separatist outposts we raided," he adds, focusing on his words to stay composed, and not the memory of becoming desperate enough after another fruitless day to check black markets for familiar mechno-arm's parts. "And we were starting to believe that you were truly dead then, until... Until we found an abandoned facility. With a lot of battle droids destroyed, and Grievous and Dooku dead. Force-choked to death."

Anakin stays silent again.

In the horizon, one of the suns has settled low enough to brush against the dune sea. The light has turned to a deep orange around his silhouette.

Obi-Wan takes a step.

"There was a holorecording."

The only answer he gets is the sound of a sharp intake of air, and an intensity in the Force that always saturates the air when Anakin tries, in vain, to calm his mind.

Another step.

"I saw you taking a starfighter. I saw you leaving the facility, free."

Another step.

"Why didn't you come back to the Temple?"

"There was nothing for me there anymore."

The word stops Obi-Wan in his tracks. Somehow, one sentence is harder to swallow than months of worry. He's always known that he failed to make Anakin feel at home at the Temple, or make him realise that there might not be parents or siblings in names there, but the feeling of kinship remains the same. But to hear him say that the sum of all these years spent there together boils down to nothing to him, still manages to crack Obi-Wan's composure.

The burn in his throat makes his next words difficult to pronounce.

"Why didn't you come back to me, Anakin?"

"BECAUSE I'VE FAILED YOU!" Anakin snaps, throwing his arms up and his shields down, and finally turns toward Obi-Wan in a dramatic movement of his robe.

The hood falls from his head, and even if the sunset at his back prevents Obi-Wan from seeing his expression, hidden in the shadow, he can't miss his golden hair forming an incandescent halo around his face. The Force has erupted in a bonfire within Anakin, crackling around him in warning to anyone who would approach it, white-heat fever and boundless darkness at the same time.

It tastes like ash on Obi-Wan's tongue.

He pulls his own shields a bit tighter around him.

"Why do you keep asking this question when you know what I've done? Why are you even here? Are you here to kill me? Because I failed you, Obi-Wan! I killed them and I felt nothing but satisfaction! I accepted the dark side, I welcomed it even, it burned through me and it's still burning right now, and I'm incapable of controlling anything, not even my own shields, so no, I couldn't come back and pretend I could still be a Jedi. And now you saw it, you saw everything, so I can't even prete— I can't..."

The swirling of emotions comes crashing down around Anakin so violently that Obi-Wan physically flinches, and it looks like the Force is suddenly cutting down the strings holding him upright. He crumples to the ground in a cloud of sand and dust, close, too close to the edge of the cliff.

There's only the sound of Anakin panting for a moment, long enough for Obi-Wan to gather his thoughts, and take another step.

Only he would be foolish enough to want to touch glowing embers.

"It doesn't change my question," he says calmly, like he's always done after one of his padawan's tantrum. "Why didn't you come back to me, Anakin?"

He thinks he can see Anakin opening his mouth to answer, but only a short derisive laugh leaves his lips before he drags his feet in the dust and turns away from him again.

Finally, —finally—, Obi-Wan is close enough. Stopping just a few centimetres from Anakin's back, his hand instinctively reaches for his shoulder but hovers right before touching it. And then settles there and squeezes. It belongs there, he thinks as Anakin makes a small noise at the back of his throat.

He expects Anakin to shrug off his hand, refuse his touch, just like he's refusing to look directly at him.

But he doesn't.

"I couldn't see you," he admits after a pause, eyes closed. "I don't care about the Council, or the Republic, or anyone else, but I couldn't... I couldn't bear the disappointment in your eyes. I didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."

"Oh, Anakin," Obi-Wan sighs, trying to swallow the affection in his voice. He pauses for a second, relishing the feel of Anakin letting him rub his thumb on his shoulder. "I am saddened and upset, yes. When I watched all that anger unleashed and how you succumbed to it, how you crushed Grievous and Dooku so easily that I could almost feel the dark side through the holo, I felt... I felt heartbroken."

The indignation he expected, or any sort of accusations to shift the blame on something or someone else, doesn't come. Instead, Anakin bends his head and pulls his legs closer to him, like he has just been hit.

"I'm sorry Master," he manages to whisper, face hidden behind his arms and hair, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

"Listen, listen," Obi-Wan begs rapidly, kneeling next to him. His hand moves from his shoulder to the back of his neck, trying to soothe him. "I was heartbroken for you. You were alone, in a terrible situation, being taunted, electrocuted, tortured. It doesn't excuse what you did, but, Anakin, you disappeared for months after that. You ran away without a word, without an explanation, and I couldn't— I couldn't believe you would voluntarily turn your back on us. I couldn't let the thought that you didn't trust us enough to help you go. And then... you called for me."

"No, I didn't." The muffled, petulant tone makes Obi-Wan smiles a bit. His hand moves up along his nape to Anakin's curls, stroking gently, pushing unruly locks behind his ears.

"You did. Unconsciously, probably, but you did. For so long, I couldn't reach you through the Force, but I kept trying every time I meditated, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, anything to make sure you were still alive somewhere. And one day, I heard you. Far, far away, barely loud enough to recognise, but I heard you. Wishing I was with you."

Anakin's hand clenches in a fist at the words. Obi-Wan ignores it, fingers still running through his hair in a rhythmic movement.

"That's why I've spent seven months looking for you, searching the galaxy for you. Because I wished I was with you too."

Obi-Wan didn't expect the wounded noise that escaped Anakin's mouth, and even less that his admission would cause Anakin to throw himself at him in a fierce embrace. Caught off-guard, Obi-Wan topples and falls on his back in a cloud of dust. In the Force, Anakin's shields come crashing down again, but this time, Obi-Wan doesn't draw back from it. Their bond suddenly bursts open, emotions spilling in all directions and showering him with a chaotic jumble of relief-longing-hope, eventually blending together to only leave lovelovelove.

"Anakin," he sighs, with his usual falsely annoyed and secretly fond tone that seems to be the only way he knows how to pronounce his name. Anakin, heavy on top of him now, doesn't respond, too busy nuzzling Obi-Wan neck. "The cliff is right there, we could have died."

"Don't care," he replies, squeezing his arms impossibly tighter around Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan chuckles, and he can feel more than hear him hums in appreciation at the sound, face hidden under his chin.

After months of extending his mind through millions of Force-sensitive beings scattered around the galaxy and still finding it empty, there is nothing more reassuring than being smothered by Anakin's presence in the Force. He tugs on their bond a bit, just to feel it, and when Anakin instantly tugs back, Obi-Wan's hand on his waist pulls him closer.

"Would you look at me, Anakin? Just for a second. I have yet to really see you."

There is a short pause and then a long breath against his neck before Anakin puts one elbow on the ground next to Obi-Wan's face, raises his head, and finally, truly looks at Obi-Wan.

"Hello, there," Obi-Wan whispers, as familiar blue eyes blink at him.

Embarrassment tinges the Force and his cheeks pink, and Anakin seems to promptly remember that his shields are non-existent right now and that he's lying flat on Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan watches, amused, as he awkwardly starts to untangle his legs from him and shifts his weight to get to his knees.

"Now, shall we—"

"Watch the sunset with me," Anakin blurts out, then realises what he just said and starts babbling. "I mean, we're already here and it's almost over now, but it's the only beautiful thing on this Force-forsaken planet."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that," Obi-Wan grins as Anakin's eyes widen. He opens his mouth, thinks better of it and closes it, looking at anything but Obi-Wan. Taking pity on him, Obi-Wan holds his hand toward him to help him get up. "Also, Anakin, the next time you want to punish yourself, please choose to do it on another planet than Tatooine. I don't think I can handle one more day of the suns trying to roast me like an Endorian chicken."

"Yes Master, your fair skin will be my first consideration the next time I turn to the dark side."

"I'm sure it will," he teases, squeezing Anakin's hand as he pulls him into a sitting position.

Anakin rolls his eyes, but quickly ducks his head to hide his reddened cheeks.

And then it hits him.

Right at this moment, seated next to his former padawan, their feet dangling above the desert, easy banter and the quiet tune of their signatures melting into each other again, Obi-Wan is happy. Even if Anakin is still dangerously close to the dark side, even if the war isn't completely over yet, even if he's not going to get away with deliberately ignoring the Council's messages for the past few months, Obi-Wan feels at peace. Content.

Eyes closed, he whispers his thanks to the Force for not taking another one of the most important people in his life away from him.

He doesn't need to look at Anakin to know he's wondering what he's doing, and his smile only grows before taking his hand in his own. Anakin makes a surprised noise, raising his head to look at him. His expression turns almost alarmed when Obi-Wan cups his face, thumb rubbing lightly against his cheek.

"We'll figure it out, Anakin. I won't leave you."

He's framing his face with both hands now, and can’t resist pressing his lips to his forehead. Anakin's signature turns impossibly brighter at the touch, and between the new uproar of feelings tangled together, Obi-Wan notices a tinge of desire and want, that will definitely be analysed later and probably used to tease him a bit more. This shade of red does look lovely on his cheeks, he notices, pleased.

But he will have time to embarrass him further later. Now, Obi-Wan just wants to enjoy the moment with him.

"...Also because I can't. The starship I borrowed has been making a worrying rattling noise since I left the Mid Rim. It's a miracle I arrived on Tatooine in one piece, and there is no way I'm putting another foot in it before you can assure me that it won't explode the moment I activate the hyperdrive regulator."

Anakin bursts into laughter. "Borrowed? Who did you steal it from this time?"

"I would never—" Obi-Wan scoffs, falsely indignant at the accusation.

"Don't lie, Master, it's unbecoming of you."

"I left a very apologetic note behind, if you must know."

Anakin laughs again, and it warms Obi-Wan's heart like nothing has managed to for the past seven months. He leans on his side to rest his head against Obi-Wan's, bumping his shoulder with his. There isn't any space left between them.

"What would you do without me, Master?"

"Crash and burn, probably."

Basking in the golden light of the sunset, Obi-Wan tries not to burst with how warm he feels with Anakin messy locks tickling his face and Anakin's breath near his ear and Anakin's hand in his.

The last of Tatooine’s suns goes down in front of them.

The most comforting of infernos, Obi-Wan thinks as the scorching heat of Anakin's signature clings to him too tightly.

He doesn't mind burning at all.

#obi-wan ignoring his comm for months: 'the council can't tell me to come back if I don't answer to their calls'#obikin #clem's aus #fic I did write #asks #anon

207 notes · View notes

ruewrites · 3 years

Note

Wait asks being open means requests are open right??? If yes OH MY GOD IVE BEEN PRAYING FOR THIS DAY SINCE AGES

Could you pls pls pls pls do a dialuci fic except it's a royal au? Like dia and Luci are set to get married but Luci didn't want to until he saw Dia?? I know this isn't your primary ship but it would mean the WORLD to me (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡

Meeting His Prince

AO3

Ship: Diavolo/Lucifer

Word Count: 2008

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi Anon! First of all, thank you. When I finished up WBT, I was thinking about writing a royalty au, and this request acutally made me plot it out. I guess this will be a psuedo prequel to it? But I want Dialuci to be a ship in it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!

Lucifer had his clothing pressed and his crown polished. A crowned prince had to make a good impression being the shining jewel of the growing empire of Arcadia. Yet it wasn’t his clothing that worried his father. It was Lucifer’s expression.

To say he was happy was far from correct. Lucifer never gave much thought to marriage. Honestly, he’d be happy ruling Arcadia without anyone by his side. He’d spent much of his time caring for his siblings and learning how to rule over the kingdom, so an heir wasn’t an idea he was fond of. It was something he knew had been expected of him as well. Producing a strong line of future kings and queens to lead Arcadia had been in the stars for him according to his father.

Perhaps he had read the stars wrong.

The memory of Father bursting through the palace doors uttering curses under his breath. Apparently the prince had been rather persistent with his demands. His father wanted to make an alliance with this kingdom horribly so. Apparently the prince was rather effective in the way he ruled and was a skilled strategist. He would be a powerful addition to Arcadia, but he was stubborn once he’d made his decision. Strategist indeed if he could get the King of Arcadia to give into his demands. The anger in the king’s eyes when he told Lucifer that he had been chosen burned Lucifer’s very soul.

Lucifer knew where this anger was coming from, not that he cared all that much. He’d never really given too much thought to what his paternal figure wanted from him. Why start now?

His siblings had all had varying reactions: sighing about the ‘romance’ of the situation, poking fun at him, and in some cases offering sympathy. He just wanted to stay neutral about it. The end goal for him was to be a worthy future king of Arcadia, this was just a stepping stone he had to take to get there. Other issues surrounding this engagement could be figured out with time. He had time. He just needed to stay level headed.

He hadn’t noticed the clock ticking down to his wedding day, he hadn’t even realized that he’d never met his fiance despite the flood of letters that were sent his way once a month. It seemed odd. Lucifer wasn’t really sure how to react to the attention and aggressive affection. The entire situation felt more like a relationship with a paramour rather than an arranged marriage for the good of their kingdoms. For now, it was best to push it to the back of his mind and deal with it when the time came. There wasn’t any point in fighting anything lest he cause conflict that would certainly affect more people than just him.

Ah the life of being a royal.

Lovely wasn’t it?

The day of the foreign prince’s arrival, Lucifer spent hours pacing around the palace overlooking every tiny detail. Of course he could change his mind at any moment and Lucifer couldn’t have that happen. This was for the good of Arcadia. He glanced over the arrangement of food on the table one last time before letting out a sigh.

Composure was key.

He was the pride of Arcadia.

Nothing could break him.

Nothing could throw him off guard.

Nothing-

“Lucifer!”

Lucifer didn’t even have time to process the situation. Strong arms wrapped around him, suffocating him in a tight embrace. He struggled, gasping for air and attempting to escape from the steel grip capturing him. When he did manage some distance, his hair was a mess and his clothes were disheveled.

Golden eyes met his own, sparkling like gold coins reflecting the summer sun.

“You’re even more beautiful in person,” the other prince’s voice came out as a whisper, as firm hands gently cupped his face, “You’re as radiant as an angel-”

He was a puppy. A giant puppy.

“Oh how lucky I am to be married to such a gorgeous man.”

“We’re not married yet,“ Lucifer hoped he didn’t sputter as he pulled away. This was hardly the professional meeting he’d been expecting. This was their first time meeting before their wedlock, and Lucifer had been thrown off balance.

He could do professional.

He couldn’t do whatever… whatever this was.

“Well, we’ll be married soon.”

“Your Highness-”

“Diavolo.”

Lucifer stopped in his tracks. All he could do was stare at those big shiny eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Please call me by my name. I’d like to hear how perfect it sounds on your tongue,” Diavolo repeated.

Heat rose into Lucifer’s face and he hoped it didn’t show. Quickly, he turned away and started walking towards one end of the table. “In any case, you’ve had a long trip. Why don’t-”

No sooner had Lucifer sat than Diavolo swooped in to scoot a chair closer to him. This man really didn’t have any sense of personal space did he? This was unfamiliar territory. Lucifer expected him to sit on the opposite end, allowing him to keep some distance between them. That’s how people were to stay. At a nice, respectable distance to be observed and to exchange pleasantries, but no closer. Diavolo was a stranger, yet he refused to act like one.

“I want to know everything about you,” Diavolo sounded as if he was marvelling at a being from another word. It was an unsettling feeling, “You’re favorite music, what you like to do in your free time, everything about you.”

Lucifer scooted away ever so slightly. Diavolo followed.

“Why would you care about any of that?”

This was business.

“Because we’re getting married.”

That didn’t mean he had to know anything about Lucifer.

But Diavolo had a nice laugh. It was booming and made Lucifer’s lips twitch upward ever so slightly. Everything about him was warm. Warmth Lucifer had never known before.

He tried to touch his face once more, Lucifer turned away. It was instinct. Lucifer wasn’t accustomed to being touched.

“You act like no one’s ever acted like this with you before!”

“That’s because no one has,” his eye glanced toward Diavolo, “My family isn’t exactly touchy.”

More specifically his father. He didn’t like touchiness, he thought it would make them weak. Therefore, physical affection wasn’t common when their father was around, especially not with Lucifer. He was their crown prince. He needed to be strong and rule without anything in his way.

Diavolo’s demeanor changed, his shoulders fell, his eyes widened, and his mouth fell.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not anything worth pitying. It happened and there’s nothing that can be done to change it,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair, “It’s what he thought best for the future of Arcadia.”

You threw a wrench in his plans.

And for that, well, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied. After pushing him and his siblings to follow certain path all of their lives, it was nice to see something not go as planned for a change. Lucifer wouldn’t be having heirs, and that was fine by him. Any interruption counted as a victory for him, no matter how small.

“I am sorry,” Diavol’s voice was more even and calmer than it had been before, “For how I have been behaving though. It must have been startling to you. Please forgive me.”

Lucifer turned his head back towards him and quirked his eyebrow.

“My own father was very affectionate when I was young, I suppose I just miss it, and I’d like to share that with you, if you’ll allow me.”

Lucifer thought for a moment, allowing silence to permeate in the room. If asked, he’d say he did it to make Diavolo sweat, but in reality he was genuinely thinking it over. “I suppose, perhaps with time.”

The way he beamed made Lucifer’s heart skip a beat, “Then let’s get to dinner and start to know each other a little better, shall we?”

***

Enjoying the evening had not been on Lucifer’s list of things to do, but he wouldn’t complain.

“You like dogs? I could get you a dog as a wedding present.”

Lucifer laughed, “Father wouldn’t allow it. He’s not fond of animals.”

“Well he can’t stop me from getting a present that you would like. “

This man defying his father? Heavens help them. Perhaps Lucifer liked him a little more than he thought. It wasn’t something he was used to. He’d never had a relationship like this before. This was the first time he felt like he’d had a genuine conversation with someone outside of his family. For once, Lucifer felt a little relaxed.

Diavolo was genuinely interested in what Lucifer liked. He wrote down how Lucifer took his tea, wanted to listen to all of his favorite songs with him, and what he liked to do in his free time. He wanted to play chess with him and spend time with him in any way he could.

It made Lucifer’s feel warm and his chest lurch. He loved the smile that found its way onto his face and how Diavolo’s voice surrounded him. Perhaps he’d found a new favorite song.

He felt like he’d known Diavolo for ages.

He made it easier for Lucifer to breathe.

“Diavolo-”

Diavolo froze. His eyes went wide again, “You said my name.”

Lucifer didn’t get a chance to move before he was being lifted off the ground and spun in the air. Diavolo’s booming laugh surrounded them.

“Oh you said my name! And it was perfect! More than perfect!” he lowered Lucifer only to bring him into a kiss. Now it was Lucifer’s turn to freeze. His face quickly turned red as his eyes flew open. He stiffened, and tried to bring himself back. He’d never been kissed before. A crown prince had to be careful when it came to his image, and he’d had more important things to focus on than starting romances that would lead to nowhere. He’d always known he’d be married off to someone else, so he didn’t really see a point in seeking out others for romance.

Lucifer never thought about what it would be like to be kissed.

He wasn’t exactly sure about what to think now.

When Diavolo pulled away the terror seemed to set it. “Oh I’m sorry! I- I went too far-”

As he mumbled, Lucifer felt himself come back. It was when he realized how nervous the other prince was. He was energetic and was the opposite of Lucifer himself. Instead of going silent like Lucifer did, Diavolo seemed to ramble even more. With a chuckle and the shake of his head, Lucifer put his finger tips under Diavolo’s chin and brought his focus back to him.

Lucifer wasn’t one to be won over so easily, but there was something about this man that made him think their union wouldn’t be a bad one. Perhaps he could make his life a little more interesting.

If he could force his father into doing something that he didn’t want to do, like agreeing to the condition of Diavolo getting to marry his crown prince, Lucifer figured he would like him.

“I will have to kiss my husband eventually, you’re an awfully excitable man Diavolo. I think I quite enjoy that about you,” he smiled, before placing a gentler kiss onto his lips.

If Diavolo wanted to play the role of adoring husband Lucifer wouldn’t stop him. Maybe marriage wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. Perhaps he could rule Arcadia with another person effectively after all.

When they pulled away, Lucifer caressed his face, “I think I could see myself participating in acts of affection in private.”

He and Diavolo walked a little closer on the rest of their stroll, and he found himself leaning into his shoulder every now and again.

Perhaps he could get used to this.

Perhaps he would lead Arcadia into a new age, and be an even better ruler with Diavolo at his side.

It would be a future to look forward to.

#ruewrites #anon #ask #anon ask #royalty!au #arranged marriage!au #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #dialuci #diavolo x lucifer

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bethchapelsbonnet · 3 years

Note

Hournite + 35

35 “would you be upset if i kissed you?”

Beth was a force to be reckoned with. She knew that a lot sooner than anybody else around her did, and didn't even realize that she was as strong as she ultimately turned out to be. She was doing things that she never imagined and always came out on top.

Her daily words of affirmation, an extensive system of self care, and a small but very close network of friends that she loved like family made her unstoppable. Fearless. The GOAT in recent history...

Then, she would see Rick Tyler. Her main weakness.

They were friends, so she didn't think too deeply into the way he made her feel at first. She was happy to have friends! They were teammates, so it didn't Dawn on her how much he had her back when stakes were high and her fighting skills were low. She was relieved to have survived the battles! They were close, so she overlooked the gazing, the gleam in his eyes when he smiled, and convinced herself that she was overanalyzing the soft touches and tender whispers of support.

She would call him up, "Where are you?" And merely expect an answer. She would compliment him as naturally as she breathed, "Rick has AMAZING super strength." In all those times, she missed something. Granted, she had things going on that kept her attention scattered, but if Rick showed up, her attention found it's resting place.

He had gotten a broken rib in his defense of her.. or maybe he got it afterwards, but in her mind, he went through a lot specifically because of his protective nature. That was when it happened. When she could no longer explain away the feelings. When she thought back on all of the looks, the tone of voice and gentleness he now had with her. The way that they gravitated to one another mentally and physically.

That was when she realized that she liked him, maybe more, and she figured that she probably wanted him too. But, there had been so much going on.

Facing off with Eclipso, Rick's jail stint, her parents' relationship... She had a lot keeping her from going after her heart's desire. She promised herself that when it was over and they were all safe and victorious, she would make a move. They. Were. Now. IN. That. Era.

Rick was at his locker, trading out books. She watched him adjust his hair, apply lip balm, reapply cologne, and then linger on a photo of her in his locker. She smiled, took a deep breath and marched over, telling herself that this was the time. She could do it. Just walk up to him and make her declaration!

"Rick!" She said louder than she planned. He looked up from her photo and smiled. Weakness. Once again. She stared at him, frozen in her place with her smile frozen on her face. He squinted and she stepped even closer, clearly with something important to say.

"Beth, are you okay?" He wondered. He reached out and took one of her hands, which normally would steel her nerves, but today made her feel even more anxious.

"I just.. wanted... To say.. to ask.." she laughed at herself. She's faced the devil and won, but when it came to Rick Tyler, her defense system was non-existent, because usually HE was a defender. But, his face was so concerned, she bit her lip, twisted her face in a most uncomfortable smile and for one of the very few times in her entire existence, timidly asked, "Would you be upset if I kissed you?"

That was NOT what she had planned to say at all. It was on none of the note cards. It wasn't in any of the saved docs. It hadn't been practiced in her mirror or with a hologram of Rick from her goggles. But, when he smiled like Christmas morning, pulled her tense body into his arms and responded with a kiss - all was lost.

She had no clue of where she was or who, for a moment. Only enraptured with his hands gently rested on her waist, his lips, so soft and recently moisturized, and his intoxicating cologne wrapping her in a cloud of sensation.

Her elbows were bent and unmoving, her hands clenched into fists, and she was making sounds that drove Rick wild and only made him kiss her more and harder. Several students had stared, a few began whispering and Rick suddenly became conscious of the fact that they weren't alone. He withdrew his mouth, but kept her in his arms and she made a whining whimper when his mouth left hers.

Immediately, she covered her mouth and giggled uncontrollably. Then she began tracing her lips with her fingertips as Rick collected her with one arm and helped her move forward. She seemed to still be in her.. weakened state. "No," he said. "I wouldn't be upset at all."

Beth smiled brightly at him and snuggled into his side. "Good to know!" She cheered, slowly redeeming her will from his hold. "I've gotta say though... I think when we kiss from now on, it should probably be in private."

He laughed, "I agree. You did not have control of your functions back there." Rick teased, but his eyes were full of the warmth of love that his kiss sent radiating through her body.

"I had not properly prepared myself for that.. I don't know if I COULD prepare for that.. but, privacy will give me more practice!" She smiled and raised her thumbs, unable to shake all of the electric impulses Rick made her feel.

"Mmm. I'm going to be eager to assist you with this."

With her confidence falling comfortably back into place, now that she had addressed her weakness, Beth flirtatiously said, "You never know. I might show you a few things." With that, from the color of his face and his expression, she knew that she had conquered yet another fear and become victorious. She bit her lip for emphasis, and then giggled and shrugged her shoulders.

#beth chapel #rick tyler #hournite #hournite fics #stargirl cw #stargirl fanfiction #beth x rick #nesha prompts #nesha hournite fics #prompts #fics #Would You Be Upset If I Kissed You?#thatkillervibe

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loki-hargreeves · 3 years

Text

Loki x Reader - The Ghost of You

Warnings: death, mentions of blood, angst, ghost stuff

Word Count: 2,7K

Summary: Loki has been miserable since you passed away. You can see him at all time, but he can’t see or hear you. Nevertheless, you try to reach out to him from the other side, hoping one day he can notice you again. He speaks to you, hoping you’re there when he needs you the most.

Author’s Note: This one is for all the angst junkies out there! 💚 Honestly, this was inspired a lot by TUA. But the idea came to me when I was listening to ‘the lonely’ by Christina Perri.

YOUR POV

Death had come to you so incredibly fast.

One moment you had been standing by Loki’s side in battle, the next you were not.

The first thing you remembered was the light. Nothing you had ever seen before compared to the brightness that had forced you to shut your eyes. It felt like it had swallowed you whole, ripped you out of your body and then everything went numb. For a while, nothing mattered. The blood in your veins stilled, the noises around you disappeared and you didn’t even breathe. The enemies disappeared from around you. For a moment, you felt safe.

Loki!

You remembered him, and all the feelings came crashing back to your heart. The pain, the worry, the love, everything.

When the light faded away from your surroundings, you were back at the battle scene. The numerous enemies were slain and it was quiet. The silence and the gnarly smell of blood lingering in the air was eerie. It made your guts twist in an odd way.

There you were, in Loki’s arms. But you were also standing right there only a few feet away.

Loki knelt on the frozen ground with your body in his trembling arms. The life had vanished from your eyes, leaving them cold and empty, staring into the sky. For a while, you stood there still. Shock turned you into stone. Despite not having a physical body, you felt like you couldn’t move at all.

How was Loki holding your bloody corpse, crying his eyes out as his brother and friends watched if you were right there?

“Loki?” You called out his name, surprised you found your voice. It felt like you had tears in your throat, sobs trying to rip away from you, but it didn’t sound it. Your voice was light, it echoed.

No one heard you.

It took all the courage you had in your body to walk closer, and closer, and closer. Suddenly, you fell on your knees, right in front of Loki. He was looking at you, the wrong you. The pain on his face broke your heart. He looked terrified in a way you had never seen him before. His usually so graceful hands held onto your body tightly, turning his knuckles white and he was covered in blood; your blood.

“Loki!” You screamed at him, hoping that he’d snap out of it.

Yet it seemed like you weren’t even there.

Thor put his hand on Loki’s shoulder. Even the god of thunder had tears in his eyes. “Loki, stop,” Thor told him sadly.

It made Loki snap his head aggressively. He looked at Thor with rage in his teary eyes.

“Stop? You’re telling me to stop! She could die and it’s all on us!” Loki shrieked loudly, his voice betraying him as fresh tears rolled down his face.

Sif and Fandral shared concerned glances. They didn’t dare say anything. Even they were upset by this tragedy, but no one wanted to say it out loud yet.

Thor looked like he regretted what he said next, “She’s gone, brother.”

Shivers ran down your spine, which felt like daggers, sinking into your flesh and bone. You felt sick, but nothing happened. You just stared at your corpse in horror, not being able to think of anything else anymore.

You were dead.

That’s why they looked right through you.

Loki wanted to get up, to slap some sense into Thor’s thick skull. Another part of him wanted to keep using his healing magic on your wounds, to revive you and see life in your eyes again. Although Loki didn’t want to accept the truth, he wasn’t a fool.

As he looked at your bloody face, held it and felt the warmth beneath your skin fade away from under his touch, he knew it.

You were gone, ripped away from life too soon.

But you weren’t as far away as he feared.

“Loki,” You cried now, pleading to the gods in Valhalla that they would make that nightmare stop. This couldn’t be real!

Why were you not with your forefathers and mothers? Why were you stuck watching the gruesome reality before your eyes? This wasn’t supposed to happen!

With shaking hands, you tried to touch your body. It was far fetched, but you thought that maybe, just maybe you could return into it. That hope was crushed when nothing really happened. Your hand went right through your body, and you couldn’t even feel anything. At that moment, you noticed you couldn’t feel anything else either. Not the icy ground beneath your knees, nor the wounds that had caused your early demise. It was like you didn’t even exist.

You were a ghost.

For some reason, your soul didn’t leave Loki’s side. After your funeral, your body had been burned. Odin himself had held a speech since you had been his son’s wife. He, like everyone else, assumed you had gone to Valhalla. You hadn’t, which you couldn’t understand why. What had you done to deserve such a cruel fate? You were stuck watching how everyone you ever cared about mourned you when you were right by their side. The worst part was when they didn’t hear you, nor react to your touch. Would it be like this forever?

Seeing Loki was the hardest part. If you tried to go too far away, it seemed like the world stopped. An invisible wall kept you from walking too far away, which meant you were always around him. You were always there to see him cry himself to sleep as he missed you. It was like torture.

Time passed slowly. Every minute of your existence was agony, and it was no other for Loki. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the nights were getting longer and colder.

Thor was being prepared for his new role as king. Although he had yet to be crowned, be certainly behaved like it had already happened, and it didn’t ease Loki’s suffering at all. You began to notice how bitter he had grown - understandably so. Everyone overlooked him completely, but you, which he didn’t know of. To Loki, it seemed like he was all alone. He felt cursed.

When Thor’s coronation was ruined, he had dragged himself and his friends to Jotunheim, you too unbeknownst to him.

It had been scary, to say the least. Seeing them all in battle when you couldn’t help them. Jotunheim was dark and it looked a wreck. It was evidence of something terrible that had happened there before. The frost giants didn’t look pleased to see the Asgardians. Loki looked troubled when Thor started a fight. He thought of you. Last time he had fought, you died.

It took a turn to the worse when a Jotun grabbed his wrist. Instead of getting a nasty frostbite, Loki had watched his hand turn blue just like a frost giant’s. It was like a punch in the gut for him. How was that possible?

Everything that happened next was all a chaotic mess. Odin had shown up to bring them back home. Thor had been banished to Midgard and everyone turned against Loki.

Finally, there was some silence.

Loki was in his quarters that not too long he had shared with you. It was dark and he hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights, or set fire to the fireplace. He enjoyed the soft moonlight that washed the space blue. Despite how much time had passed, the room still smelled sweet like you.

“I wish you were still here,” Loki spoke to you, not expecting to be heard.

“I’m right here by your side,” You answered, although he couldn’t hear you. The two of you sat on your bed together, but it only sunk underneath his weight. You were only a sentient being in thin air with an illusion of a body. Nevertheless, you felt real with the race of your heart and the pain that crushed you every day.

Loki began to tear up as he thought of everything that had happened since he lost you. It felt like he too was stuck in a nightmare that had been forged in Hell itself.

You tried to hold his hand like you always did before when you comforted him. Your touch was nonexistent. Reaching out to him was something you still did. The thought of not trying to hold him was harsh.

Oh, how you wished you could see his face just once more, and he could look right back at you. Just once, so you could say goodbye and let him know you were there. That you could say that everything would be alright.

Loki stood up all of a sudden, walking closer to the window so he could look at the view. At night, Asgard looked so calm. He knew better than that. Loki wondered how much of it was all built on lies.

“I don’t know what to do,” Loki’s lips were quivering now. He thought he was all alone, yet he struggled to display the feelings that were tormenting him. “You’re gone, Thor is gone - I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Loki turned around as if he expected you to be right there. When he didn’t see a familiar face, his heart sunk to his stomach. “I don’t know what to do. It would be so much easier if you were here.”

Tears were rolling down his face now, but he kept his composure - for now. You could only watch as he tried to choke his sobs that were begging to be cried out loud. Trying to drown that was agonizing to him, but Loki didn’t want to feel weak.

There was a burning desire within you to take care of Loki. You loved him to death, and beyond. You had always loved him and not being able to make sure he was alright was awful. It didn’t mean you would stop trying. For as long as you were chained together side by side, you would try. One day, it could work.

“It’s going to be just fine, Loki,” You wished deeply for it to be true. Surely, there would be light at the end of the tunnel. At least for him. Loki had so much life ahead of him.

You stood right in front of him now, eyes never leaving his. Sometimes you tried to stand in a way that it seemed like he was looking into your eyes, just to feel something again.

“I just wish that you knew how sorry I am,” Loki tilted his head, breaking the illusion of it all being real when he no longer faced you. “What am I doing, mumbling by myself?” He chuckled sadly, feeling like he was losing it. Honestly, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do anymore. Was it that crazy to speak to nothing, pretending that you were still there?

Watching him like that was incredibly difficult. He was suffering all alone and no one was there to hold him or guide him through it all. Loki thought he was losing it, but little did he know you heard every word he said. You wanted to scream the words at him, even when it felt like buckets of ice water in your lungs, burning you. You were so loud, but he didn’t notice. Surely, you could’ve shrieked right into his ears without getting a reaction.

“If you’re here, my love,” He choked on his words. Loki had to be quiet so he wouldn’t lose the grip he had on himself. His hand was slipping as more tears decorated his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” You wanted to reassure him. Loki couldn’t blame himself for your death. It had been a tragic battle death. It happened! But it was out of his control.

“Loki,” You cried his name now, feeling awful as you could just watch him break down. “You can’t blame yourself!”

Loki’s legs betrayed him and he had to sit down on the hard floor. His hands tangled in his dark locks and he closed his eyes, trying to stay calm. It felt like his entire world was spinning around him. He missed you so much that it made him sick to his stomach.

When you sat down beside him again, you wrapped your arms around his shaking body. Please don’t blame yourself, you thought. It wasn’t fair.

“I’m sorry,” Loki repeated his apology.

His words felt like knives in your heart. There was nothing you could’ve done to change his mind about it. You could only hold him and hope that miraculously it would make him feel better.

For a moment, there was silence. Except for Loki’s sniffles and deep breaths, it was almost peaceful. When you were quiet, it was easier to pretend you were a normal couple again. You were there together, simply enjoying each others’ presences. There wasn’t a dimension separating your souls.

“I need to go down there,” Loki broke the silence. How much time had passed?

“What?” You instinctively asked him.

“The ice casket,” Loki thought out loud. He knew that it was the source of the Jotuns power. If he held it, would his skin turn blue again? Did the frost giant curse him, or were there deep secrets that were now coming to light? Although he was petrified, he knew he had to find out the truth. Soon, not quite yet. His eyes were glossy and red from crying, and for whatever reason, he felt comfortable on the floor. Perhaps he was picturing it, but he felt like he was close to you.

Loki tilted his head, looking to his left where you sat. “I can’t stop talking to you, Y/N. Sometimes it feels like you’re still here,” He admitted quietly. Speaking was hard for him. You could tell when fresh tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Discussing things made everything real.

“I’ve never left,” You whispered sadly.

Of course he didn’t know that, but it was easy to pretend. To pretend his life wasn’t falling apart, like you were safe and sound.

“I love you,” Loki admitted after a while. It had been a long time since he had said it. The last time he could bring himself to say that was on your funeral day, when he watched your body turn to glimmers of magic. He loved you with all his heart and it would never change.

Those three words were bittersweet. They made you feel cherished and happy, but they were also a reminder that you were both stuck in a cruel reality, forced to miss each other when you were so close.

“I love you too,” You whispered gently. Would he ever be able to hear you again? Was there magic he could learn? You couldn’t help but wonder. For now, it seemed hopeless.

You rested your head at the top of his shoulder, feeling like you were crying but there was no way to tell when you had no physical tears to shred. There was only heartache and misery.

The moment you two unknowingly shared ended too soon. Just as the silence grew comfortable again, Loki wiped his face and stood up. He hesitated before walking to the door.

“I have to do this,” He made up his mind. Nothing could stop him now, Loki had to find out the truth. Loki didn’t consider himself a hero as he had failed to save you. Even if he was the monster parents told their children about at night, would it really matter? Loki didn’t think so anymore. You weren’t there to witness him like that, he thought.

Just like that, he opened the door, making his way to Odin’s vault to dig deeper into his past. You were right there with him, with every step of the way.

And you couldn’t do anything at all to help him. Not even when he turned to his true self and he looked like he had seen a ghost. Not even when Odin found him like that and instead of being a comforting father, he told Loki the truth in the worst way. Just as Loki learned he had been taken as a child, that Laufey was his true father, Odin fell into Odinsleep, abandoning Loki.

Once again, Loki was all alone with the weight of the nine realms on his shoulders.

You were just a ghost. To watch Loki crumble to pieces was worse than death itself.

A part of you couldn’t help but wonder, was this what Hell was like?

A/N: It feels like forever since I’ve written Loki angst. I hope you liked it! If you did, I would love to hear your feedback 🥺

Forever Taglist: @iraniq @embrycallsgirl @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13 @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @thehumanistsdiary @your-pixels-are-showing @klanceiscannon14

Loki taglist: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02

#tw death #Loki #Loki angst #Loki x Reader #Loki x Y/N #Loki x You #Loki oneshot #Loki fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Inception: Chapter 3

You were busy humming away and cleaning the dishes when Childe eyed your bed again. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was where you'd hide evidence if there was any to begin with. He glanced in your direction and shifted off of the couch, careful not to make the couch squeak from his movements.

No sooner did he crouch at your bedside that he could see the glint of something with a distinct shade of red. He pulled what looked to be a large laundry bag out from under the bed, his hand rummaging around to find one of the domestic Fatui masks that only covered the eyes.

From the looks of it, these are all the stolen masks, he scanned beneath the bed once more, but found nothing but dust bunnies. So Zhongli was right about you. What have you been up to, girlie? The sound of the facet turning off warned Childe that it would be seconds before you turn around and see what he was doing.

"You've been awfully quiet over there, Aj-" You spun on your heel and noticed him kneeling at your bed with widening eyes. "-Hey, what're you doing?!"

Childe doesn't do deception--well, besides lying to you and Teucer, that is. Then there was the time with Aether...Okay, maybe he does a bit of deception, but...He kept his ground and didn't answer.

Panicked, you ran over to him. "Whatever you're doing, put it back! You don't go snooping around for ladies' panties when they invite you over, do you?!" You came to a halt when you saw him holding one of your prizes, expecting him to do something, anything than what he did next.

Childe peered over with a sly grin and lifted the mask high in the air for you to see. "What's this, Reed? Don't tell me this is for some sort of roleplay...?"

"Eh?!" He watched you turn beet red in a heartbeat with amusement--and suspicion. "N-No! Not at all!"

The ball was in his court now, and he spiked it back. "What's wrong ojou-chan? I was only asking if you do it for performances like the opera. Don't tell me you were thinking something dirty-"

"Shut it! Shut up!" You reached for the mask, but the man got to his feet and towered over you so you couldn't grab it. "Give it back and stop going through my stuff! That's not the definition of 'make yourself at home,' you know!"

"So, what do you use these for?" A slight tilt of the head gestured to the bag of masks on the floor. "They're Fatui masks. Are you the one responsible for their disappearances after all?"

"Give me that-" You grabbed his forearm and heated the skin enough to make him lose his grip from surprise, but not enough to burn him. Satisfied with regaining your prize, you shoved it back into the bag with a huff and kicked the whole thing back under the bed, ignoring the pain in your toe from hitting it too hard. "Mind your own business."

"As much as I'd like to," Childe followed you back into the kitchen area while your mind was set on drying the dishes, "you've peaked my curiosity. What're they for?"

"If you weren't snooping, I would've eventually told you," you grabbed one of the plates and a towel that sat to your left. "But since you decided to peek I think its within my right not to tell you anything."

"Oh-ho?" Hot breath brushed past the top of your ear and his chest pressed against your back so you were practically cornered against the counter. "Then I guess it's within my right to believe whatever I want about you then? No matter how obscene or dirty?"

"Quit playing games with me, Ajax!" He could see how red your ears were, and your flustered state was more than apparent since heat was practically radiating off your back. It seems he's learned something new about you; your pyro vision amplifies your flustered reactions...this information should be useful in determining any lies you might come up with. "And back up, will you? I c-can't move--"

"Tell me then," he teased.

"Ugh, I don't remember you being this annoying." He heard you let out an agitated sigh before you slammed your towel down on the counter and replaced the dishes back to their normal spots in a cupboard. "Can you keep a secret?"

Delighted to hear your cooperation, Childe nodded and allowed you to move freely again. "I know a thing or two in keeping secrets."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to tell you...but what I tell you stays between you and me. And you can't tell the Millelith--"

"I swear it."

"Okay, good. You already know how much I hate the Fatui," you took the liberty to throw yourself onto the couch and roll over so there was enough space for him to sit next to you. "I may or may not be getting some much-needed revenge on them for all the crap they've done."

"Oh? How so?"

"Let's just say I play some pranks on them." Childe scrunched his nose up as he discerned what exactly you meant by that. "Oh, don't bring up that missing Fatui stuff with me. I've only heard about it from you; my involvement with the Fatui usually ends in them getting bruises or occasionally a broke bone."

"You've said you don't like to fight, but you sound like quite the troublemaker."

"I only fight if absolutely necessary. Sooner or later the harbinger that tried to drown us all will turn up again, and when he does, he won't be excluded from my list."

"You have a list?" The awkward laugh that left him sounded more nervous than intended.

"Er...not really. Anyone that's Fatui is my target. There's not a single good person in that organization."

"Is that so?" Childe turned to your fireplace and thought to himself. For a brief moment the friendly façade he put on faltered to reveal lifeless eyes. But just as quickly as the mask cracked, it melded back together to form a smile. "You may be right about that, ojou-chan!"

.........................

It appears she truly has no involvement with the missing persons reports, Childe reviewed all the information he gathered on you as he left your apartment and entered the bustling nightlife of Liyue's streets. He had no intention of reprimanding you for your attacks against his men; you posed as little of a threat as a fly. Of course, that determination of your abilities didn't stop him from wanting to spar with you; you may have a chance to surprise him, especially if you were fated to discover his real identity...Was it bad that the idea of you finding out excited him? To face you head-on while you're in a fit of rage--that would be oh-so thrilling.

Oh! For a split second he glanced back at your distant apartment window. 'Fire isn't something I want to play with.' And she even neglected to summon a flame...The attacked don't even have a burn on them. It was true that those wielding the same element would have a certain resistance to injuries made by that element, but to not have a single blister on them? Either you were incredibly weak, or you've never used it on the agents.

To rely on your own physical strength in a world of elemental beings...you're a brave one aren't you, Reed? Perhaps after all these years apart there was some part of you like him--one that was fearless against foes, one that charges into battle rather than run from it. You were cautious--a trait he did not possess--and smart, too. Whatever role you play now is sure to be an interesting one regardless of the outcome.

As for that small part of you that's like him...well, he'll have to drag it out.

"Master Childe!" The harbinger visibly tensed and whipped his head in the direction of your apartment to ensure he was far away enough not to be seen by you. "Sir!"

"Shh!" A harsh glare shut the agent up, but realizing his actions, Childe played it off with a laugh. "Aha...apologies! Why don't we walk--" He guided the agent away from your window's view.

"Master Childe," the man spoke in a hushed tone that made it obvious the shushing had intimidated him, "we seem to be having trouble contacting another one of our agents..."

Childe's face fell. "It's late. Are you sure it's not possible they're attending a dinner party, or perhaps an opera?"

"No, no. We've been trying to get in touch with him all day, but he never answered his door. He never asked for leave, either--"

"--Give me the address."

The housing setup for the Fatui in the Liyue Division was quite similar to that of Mond's--that is, agents were located in a single hotel during their deployment. These living quarters overlooked most of the city and were located on the opposite side of town from your apartment. It was quite the walk, so you often ended up hiding in the funeral parlor while furious agents scoured the streets in search of the vigilante during the early morning hours. Perhaps an even greater advantage is that the hotel and the Northland Bank were about ten minutes apart from one another, giving you just enough time to escape the chaos before the agents could call for reinforcements.

Childe entered the missing agent's room alone. He had sent the messenger back to wherever he came from; working alone would be much less distracting. The room was dark and the only light source came from the open window to the right. He didn't miss a beat to light the nearest candle and explore the room more.

The place was neat--too neat for a bachelor agent in his twenties. Everything was in its rightful spot, from the books strewn about to the weapons displayed along the walls. Even the clothes were neatly folded in their drawers and the uniforms neatly hung in the closet. On a second look, this was an abnormality.

You see, agents are given three of each uniform component to ensure consistency in case something were to happen to the clothing in battle. To put it simply there were three coats, three pairs of gloves, three pairs of shirts and trousers alike, three pairs of boots, and three masks. Each one was resting in the closet.

So he abandons his post without informing his lead officer, leaves his uniforms...Childe returned to the dresser and yanked the drawers out once more. Everything that should be there, was. And the clothes hamper next to the dresser was empty. "He left with the clothes on his back?" No, it's too soon to draw conclusions. Still...this is how every missing agent would disappear. No dirty dishes, untouched clothes, and their uniforms neatly put away. It wouldn't raise any red flags if this hadn't happened before.

Childe scanned the room for the last time before he pinched the candle nub. Every agent that disappears does so without a trace or clue of where they could've went. Perhaps they're taken at night, after their shifts end or when they're enjoying Liyue's nightlife? Reed couldn't have done this. It's too elaborate even for her antics. This is the work of something big...but what?

As he walked back to his apartment, he was unable to come up with the answers.

.........

"What festival is this again?" Childe was glued to your side as the two of you strolled through the main street of the city. It was lit up with lanterns that cast a warm glow upon his red hair. Despite both of your busy schedules, your childhood friend still had the audacity to ask you to show him around the festivities since he had only recently moved his work to Liyue. You were a bit reluctant at first, but this would be a great opportunity to get closer to him since your previous meetings were short. And with the streets crowded with tourists and locals, it made Childe all the more difficult to be spotted by his subordinates.

"It's called the Lantern Rite," you answer with your gaze preoccupied by the fires lit beneath the stoves of the local restaurants. "It's meant to celebrate the lives and sacrifices of the adepti."

"I see. This is certainly different than Snezhnaya, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh."

Childe's eyes flicked down to you. Why were you so disinterested? Was he boring you? Or perhaps you weren't into festivities anymore? His nose crinkled as he thought, then his nostrils picked up on a delicious aroma. Seafood! "How about I buy us something to eat?"

"Hm? Like what?" Your question was answered once you followed his stare, and your heart dropped. The stall he was eyeing just happened to be next to some sort of stunt show. That's new, you grumbled inwardly as you watched visionless people spin fire without a smidge of hesitation in their movements. Since when were their performers during the Lantern Rite?

"How about something reminiscent of our homeland? I've been feeling a bit homesick these past few weeks." He stepped forward, but your feet were planted firmly on the ground. "Reed?"

"...I'll wait here. Go ahead."

The harbinger's shoulders slouched in disappointment. Maybe you weren't in the mood to hang out with him after all. Still, he wasn't the kind of guy to be dissuaded so easily; he picked himself back up and walked over to the vendor. While he waited to be served, Childe admired the street performers that danced in the middle of the walkway. They didn't have visions, yet they exuded themselves with such poise that most vision wielders lacked. Their elegance inspired him, and he had a difficult time refraining from joining in.

The look of pure awe didn't go unnoticed by you, where you now stood in the shadows as far from the performers as possible. He was definitely enjoying the show--a little more than you'd like. Your gaze returned to the poi and staffs that were lit ablaze and twirling through the air. And just like Childe's look of awe was noticed, your cynic stare was noticed by him as well when he was back with food.

You hadn't even realized he returned.

"Your crab roe tofu, ojou-chan," he held the tray out for you to take.

"...thanks..."

A second glance to the fire wielders, and Childe confirmed his suspicions. "Well this is certainly a surprise." His chuckle yanked you back to the present. "Ironic, too." You snatched the tray away without saying anything and stuffed tofu into your mouth. "What's a girl with pyrophobia doing with a pyro vision? That seems a bit cruel even for the God of War and Flame."

"I-I'm not afraid of it." Your skin flushed a faint pink at the words while you glared at him.

"You're not? Then please explain why your stove and furnace have never been touched. If you ask me, it's pretty obvious." Your silence caught him off guard. You always bantered back, but this time you couldn't even look in his direction.

It was difficult to blink the tears away as the memory of a burning house flashed through your mind--the thick smoke that coated your lungs, the sticky heat that threatened to burn you alive, the screams of your mother...And when Ajax disappeared the next day too, only for you to think the Fatui had got him too--Or the memory of his return, and when you tell him the news of your father he didn't even care.

Does he even remember his response?

You weren't hungry anymore. "I have a better way to spend the night. How about we spar?"

#wesimpforxiao #wesimpforxiao updates #genshin x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact #childe genshin impact

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sugar-petals · 3 years

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Hey Caro ☺️ I just took your super m quiz - thanks for making such a fun quiz, I feel like it helped me get into super m! I know nothing about them yet but I thought it fit soo well that I got Kai bc I’m a full time dancer - now you have me super curious about him 👀👀

KAI :: INTRODUCTION MASTERPOST (dance focus)

so you wanna know about the god of k-pop choreo? oh yeah, i’ll talk to you about fucking kai! if you dance, this guy is the #1 must-know. once you see him move, there’s no going back. i don’t exaggerate: kai is the gold standard. brace yourselves, i’ll show you why.

kim kai aka kim jongin (27) is a solo artist and super m’s plus exo’s main dancer — est 2019 and 2012 respectively — heading either group with a passionate, hyper-physical style that roots in his early practice of of jazz dance and ballet. the influence definitely shows.

learning choreography, he’s become the gorgeous fusion of emotional grace and explosive power that unites both tension and extreme accuracy. while at the same time: never sacrificing his interpretation. and HOW MUCH HE BLEEDS FOR HIS CRAFT. he enjoys it so much.

and he’s communicating it 100%, jongin’s dance is so interactive and raw, luring. i swear to god, put the seatbelts on for this one. it’s never just him, it’s you as well. you’ve never seen this before. he’s like “yes, i meant you, i’m looking at you”:

he’s even gonna modify the choreography to point right at you to underline that very thought. he’s so good, he can learn it, ace it, epitomize it, and do his own thing anyway. even the person in the last row will get whatever point kai wants to make. this is dance that belongs on the biggest stages.

even when he films without a crowd, it’s like you’re literally standing opposite to him. he focuses on two people: his moves, and the viewer. he has it look like you made him smile and self-aware, or you made him determined. INCREDIBLE. he shows his charisma, BUT he also shows your own (!) impact on him. it’s a duet. he wants you to join him on the dancefloor. this is from exo’s call me baby mv where kai does his famous come-hither:

he flirts and he encourages. he values the audience and wants them to be confident as well. i think it’s the reason why he’s so outstanding and addictive, kai thinks beyond himself. it’s a tango he involves you in with his eyes and how he opens his body, interprets a lyric.

it’s not about imposing himself going one way. instead: he plays the back and forth ALL. THE. TIME. in any context. whether it be frivolous, or fun, or gloomy, or sweet. even with a simple little smiley wink it’s happening. and he acts like you had a reaction to it. there’s literally just a camera.

this guy’s physique, strength, elegance, feeling for the beat, character portrayal (!), and control is unbelievable. he’s destroyed it in every fancam out there. he can’t switch it off even if he tried. your eyes would go toward him in the largest group formation still. put him in the center, that’s his spot, he showcases it.

because he doesn’t just show learned moves, he makes it radiate something dynamic and animalistic (he embodies superm’s ‘tiger inside’ all the way).

jongin’s dance says: i love this, you love this, let’s do this, the feeling is right. he makes bodies and unrestrained touch the opposite of wrong, he pronounces it a source of having fun and being instinctual. and he never breaks the tie with you throughout, and uses his shoulders and lips to put the oomph into it.

he uses innuendo and a ‘we both know’ sentiment perfectly as an invitation rather than just going through his routine. that’s how he can make each move fascinating. you can tell kai knows exactly how to make everyone scream their lungs out. i bet somebody held their breath just reading this post already.

exo’s most famous choreo is ‘monster’ (kai focus linked) with good reason: jongin can turn himself into nothing short of a roaring beast. it’s one sharp, complex move after the other. kai can bend any gravitational law he wants to show any feeling and pose he wants. a glimpse:

now, how to spot him in general if you’re new to him? here are some pointers. kai’s execution is clean, fast, and powerful. those are two decades (!) of experience showing. kai is an all or nothing dancer, he plays no games. he treats every group and solo stage like his best and last. his work ethic is beyond words. yeah, he’s a capricorn. his style is direct as can be, working every axis.

as you can see, jongin is hard to overlook anyway: he’s a 182cm giant made of steel. he strives to acutely visualize impact in his style and it is always successful. in fact, it’s his signature. it’s like he creates invisible objects and pushes through them. boom, he just burst another bubble.

when the song gets to his part, i guarantee you won’t miss him and all the boldness and expression he brings to enrich the performance. hell... he carries it. jongin can handle the center, i’m telling you. (look how fast he rotates here)

talking features — this is what to look for when he dances in a group setting: you can recognize kai’s face by how wide, bluntly structured and sensual it is. jongin is a sight. he has such an aura, serious, sultry, and smiling alike.

with a very recognizable silhouette (like... holy hell!):

he’s very cute as well ♡ the fandom and kai himself have an adorable analogy going on. jongin calls himself a teddy/nini bear and we joined in on it. (i made a thread about it here, it talks more about his offstage life) — hence kai’s fans are called eri-gom, eris as in exo’s fanbase and gom meaning bear.

and i mean. look at him. what an attractive guy. he’s that handsome. strong brows, teddy eyes, square jaw, swept hair, glorious lips, tan skin.

now yes, something important concerning his appearance and a serious topic: i don’t want to list you the endless instances of colorism that kai has to endure but it has to be mentioned. jongin has been called every name in the book and people agonize him over his skin incessantly. it goes on and on and on. every day a new terrible comment about him emerges because some pitiful person thought it was funny and would elevate them.

he’s had to deflect, ignore, reframe, defend, remotivate, assert, harden, prove, denounce, and push himself, protect his confidence, decline skin bleaching constantly, laugh along, dance and practice thrice as hard to get the respect, and still see his dignity torn to pieces all day. i’ll just give it to you straight, that’s all fucked up. kai’s skin is perfect, he’s amazing and wonderful.

in his own words:

— exactly right. say it even louder.

having him at the bottom of every joke is weird and messed up. this man is an utter beauty and nothing has to be fixed. it is up to him to define himself rather than get called ugly for his skin’s appearance by default, and get whitewashed at every opportunity. it’s been going on for 27 years, he scrunitizes himself all the time and doesn’t look at himself fondly because he hears these beatdowns daily.

it’s heartbreaking that this happens literally with no end in sight (’kai is just a stripper!’... ‘he has bad vibes’... ‘darkest guy jongin!’). for his skin, and how he decides to show it, too. jesus christ his skin looks fantastic, end of debate. they just can’t handle him, kai couldn’t be any more immaculate.

♡

jongin has vigorously protected fans from discrimination, bullies, and shaming himself whenever it came up. in a very straightforward and deadpan manner because he knows exactly how it damages you. (”J” in the subtitles = jongin, he’s wearing the plain white top at the very back)

we need to protect and praise him that way right back. it’s important.

so, needless to say. all in for jongin getting the center stage he deserves. because he has the wow factor in every regard. kai usually opens an MV because there’s no better way to get people’s attention with that level of presence. with kai, you can’t go wrong. if you get the center in a an all star group like superm, you are the king.

being part of that presence, kai’s stage alter ego has reached levels of infamity you can’t even imagine. it’s great to see him being sovereign without apology.

and it doesn’t stop there. he shows time and again that acting, props, and commanding the audience has to be mastered to be an exceptional dancer. kai owns his sex appeal. sometimes, he even dances a portion of choreo with his eyes closed because he’s feeling it so much.

he is a pro in using his surroundings as well, superm’s stages are a glorious opportunity for kai to show how he comfortably ‘lives in’ the 3D space around him.

which makes the viewer do the same: watching kai makes you feel amazing, energized, but also serene and enjoying the moment.

there’s always balance. it’s the magic of it. e.g. he comes along with so much impetus and decisiveness but eventually, he halts to offer himself. here i am — take me. i’m yours. closed arms, open arms. walking, kneeling. looking down, looking up.

kai goes every extra mile there ever was and makes each eye contact count. involving the audience, one grin at a time. it works. it’s about establishing contact. he connects to the onlooker with so much nuance.

kai’s smirk is notorious and you can see why it’s so raw and real: he makes it linger. it’s such a duality since his dancing says i’ll come over, while his message is come and get me, i know what’s on your mind.

with a hilarious twist – kai expertly uses humor. you don’t get that in many dancer repertoires. i love it. all those quick expression changes. his smile! 😊 what a man.

so — what makes him so good and known: yes, his style doesn’t deny that dancing and eroticism are one in his business. that takes courage. kai has it. iconic performances have been his reward. point dance/killing part: exo’s love shot choreo.

that suit has swept the nation. what’s more: kai shows you it’s more than just good hip movement that a good dancer needs. he does everything at once, he puts the pleasure on his face, all his limbs are following the template he chooses.

the thing is. kai couldn’t be any shyer, but when the music starts he becomes a oscar-winning madman. he emotes constantly (!) and stays in character. this is gold.

jongin always plays it up. he knows how to use that face and does a lot of power posing. this is how visceral looks like. he’s interpreted exo’s aggressive concepts to a T.

and he has so. much. fun. it propels him. on every beat.

past every hurt, heartbreak and injury, man. if you know about his genre you knew this was coming, kai does all of that with 4 herniated discs. since debut days, never recovered. every gif in this thread, he dances with a battered spine. wheelchairs, stage collapses, relapse-recovery-schedule tales, the dilemma of injuries being inevitable, limping, kai falling into depression during breaks, constant pain killers, countless tears on stage, we’ve seen it all, the extreme end of it.

kai works out like hell to literally keep his body from falling apart. but it doesn’t help the nerves in his back that are impacted. doing choreo you can sometimes literally see the pain kicking in and he pulls himself through with force for the last minute. once you know how strained his back is, you can see it.

at the end his expression goes fuck now it’s coming when the adrenaline fades. he takes every second-pause he gets to rest but still finishes each move. even when he holds back, he keeps it together and executes each turn. sometimes, he has to restrict himself and soften his movements to protect his health (especially in hard choreographies such as lucky one which is universally disliked by exo — still jongin makes the very best of it smiling bright and dancing so hard his sleeves come off).

he frequently states he ‘dances in any case unless his legs are affected by something’. all torso injuries are fair game, this guy is hardcore. and people claim he’s just pretending. chen (a fellow exo member) says not a single part of jongin’s body is intact. he has paid every price to get this far to follow his love. he’ll step on stage with crutches. he works SO HARD.

that being said: exo being called the official nation’s group, i say kai is the nation’s dancer. period. he has had his great moment at the korean olympics flawlessly dancing in a hanbok with traditional instruments and fulfilling his dream.

i love the tension and drama he can bring. he can also thrill with slow, vulnerable movements alike.

kai’s is called a legend, he’s all that and even more. the facial expressions alone are feared by any kai stan because they hit home.

this guy is a sex icon and goes off like a gun, messing around was never kai’s incentive.

while at the same time being incredibly nuanced and so, so descriptive with his movements.

point dance: baby don’t cry. yep, kai has danced in water. must-watch.

this man loves what he is doing. he said he wouldn’t regret to die on stage because dancing is his destiny. boy, it shows. this guy has found his purpose. he can tell any story he wants. he’s a complete artist.

he’s perfectly portraying his incentive and he couldn’t look any more like a god on earth.

long story short, kai is dance and motivation goals. if you dance professionally, you can easily look toward him for the right words.

if you want to further your study and knowledge: he released a self-titled solo album recently. highly recommended. he worked forever on it, and he’s really dishing it on there. you get to hear his soft voice plus sizzling footwork. and he isn’t even getting started yet. you’ll hear from kai, i promise. he constantly achieves new levels of artistic perfection.

a last remark. jongin is amazing for a myriad of reasons that go beyond what i show you here given the post focuses on his work on stage. but the point stands, while other people have tried to break him, he broke through every barricade instead and stood up for himself. we can be extremely happy to have him and witnessing his unreal dance is an exceptional pleasure. here’s to jongin continuing his passion and confidence, healing, and getting the sweeping respect and acknowledgement that is his.

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glimmerglanger · 3 years

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glimmer do you think you’d ever write an obikin smut prompt again? I’ve been nervous about asking but this one wouldn’t leave my head: Obi-Wan and Anakin at a fancy party, either in the aftermath of a fight, or seeing each other for the first time in a while, going nuts with frustration/longing and finally having frantic reunion/make-up sex in a library or coatroom somewhere while the party rages on around them. Maybe Anakin has to put his hand on Obi-Wan’s mouth to keep him quiet...

Alright, so, I had a devil of a time trying to make this prompt work in canon, and then realized, well, why not pick an AU where I could better see it happening? Obi-Wan!Prime may perhaps not be down with an assignation during an important diplomatic event. Emperor Obi-Wan from the mirror!au, though? Oh, he could be persuaded. AND SO HE HAS BEEN.

Technically, reading “Through a Glass, Darkly” probably would make this make more sense, since this takes place AFTER the end of that fic. But I don’t think it’s necessary. This is a “both Obi-Wan and Anakin were raised as dark-siders because ALL the Jedi are dark-siders” au, wherein Anakin has managed to put Obi-Wan on the throne.

This fic is NOT SAFE FOR WIZARDS. SPICY. BE YE SO WARNED.

(Also, OP, I want you to know that I only realized today that you meant a fight between the BOYS and not, say, a battle with the Seppies. So that’s where my head has been the last few months.)

~~~~~

Anakin spotted Obi-Wan first in a knot of Senators, the politicians clustered all around him like noisily squawking birds. They were a background consideration, one Anakin dismissed out of hand as he stepped fully into the ballroom.

He’d never cared much for such...galas. He’d been forced to attend many, when Palpatine ruled as Emperor. Palpatine had enjoyed showing him off, whispering into Anakin’s ear as the Senators slowly mingled around, the sour tang of their ambition mingling with the sharper edge of their fear through the Force.

Anakin enjoyed the events slightly more, these days, with Obi-Wan in his rightful place.

He looked better in the fine robes of office than Palpatine ever had. He was wearing robes all in black and gold, tailored to accentuate his shoulders and the trimness of his waist, all the lines of the fabric drawing attention to the lightsaber hanging from his belt.

He was the best thing Anakin had seen in weeks, since he’d - with a certain degree of vicious delight - taken the army to settle some….uprisings from the long defeated Hutts. It was good to remind them of their place, every now and then.

But, oh, Anakin had ached with missing Obi-Wan the entire time he was away. He understood, perfectly well, that Obi-Wan could not go galavanting around the galaxy, the way he once had. He was Emperor, now. His place was on Coruscant, protected and safe.

Obi-Wan turned as Anakin moved through the crowd, single-minded, ignoring the Senators who tried to catch his attention. None of them mattered. Every one of them could have dropped dead, as far as he was concerned.

Anakin’s breath caught, momentarily, as Obi-Wan finally faced him, head tilting to the side, golden eyes catching the lights around the room. He’d worn his hair loose, all in a spill down over his shoulder, held back from his face by the crown high on his brow.

There was one foolish Senator directly between them, still chattering away inanely, and Anakin put a hand on the man, pushing him to the side, ignoring the sound he made.

Obi-Wan pulled a little face at the action, but any ire washed away almost immediately, when Anakin went to one knee, snagging one of Obi-Wan’s hands and pulling it close, brushing a kiss across his soft, warm skin. “High General,” Obi-Wan said, warm and full of promise, looking down at him, “you are returned.”

“I am,” Anakin said, flowing back to his feet, sliding his hand up Obi-Wan’s arm, over his shoulder, to curve against his neck. He murmured, ignoring the stares, “As I promised,” and leaned down, taking the kiss he’d more than earned in his time away.

The Senators, proving they were not complete fools, found other places to be.

Obi-Wan’s mouth curved into a warm smile when Anakin drew back, his eyes half-shut as though he savored still the kiss. “I missed you,” Anakin murmured, brushing his nose against Obi-Wan’s cheek, enjoying the hitch of his breath, the clean smell of his skin.

Anakin knew, perfectly well, that he smelled not so finely. He’d come directly from the shuttle, still battered a bit from the last battle, impatient to see Obi-Wan, to put hands on him and pull him close.

“And I you,” Obi-Wan told him, and made a thick, pleased sound when Anakin took his hand and turned, moving through the crowd. He knew the palace well enough, recalled little nooks and rooms from so many past galas.

Some days, he wanted to have Obi-Wan in front of the entire Senate, in front of the whole galaxy, so they knew exactly how he felt, what he wanted, what they risked if they spoke ill of Obi-Wan or tried to harm him in any way.

More often, though, he wanted Obi-Wan for his own, wanted no others to see the way he looked so soft and sweet when Anakin kissed or touched him. Obi-Wan wanted the galaxy to be taken care of. He wanted people to be treated well, to live...fulfilling lives, Anakin supposed.

Anakin cared little for any of that.

He wanted Obi-Wan, pulling him through one of the fine, arched doors onto a balcony overlooking so much of Coruscant and, with a nudge of the Force, shutting the door behind them definitively.

The air on the balcony was cool and refreshing. Anakin was sure the lights below were luminous and lovely.

He wasn’t paying attention to them. It was so much better to crowd Obi-Wan against the closest wall, to brace a hand by Obi-Wan’s head and lean down far enough to kiss him properly, the way he deserved to be kissed.

“Ah,” Obi-Wan gasped, clever hands busy between them, all his want curling around Anakin, clear as a physical touch.

“I missed you,” Anakin told him, nipping at his smooth jaw, back towards his throat. “I missed you so fucking much, I--”

He grew too impatient for words. They’d never been his strong suit, anyway. He curled his fingers into Obi-Wan’s hair, kissed him again, hard, and assisted with shoving fabric out of the way.

It was a relief, something pure and right, to get his hand around Obi-Wan’s cock, freeing him from silken and velvet fabrics. Anakin could take them both in hand if he tried, the leather of his glove smooth and cool, Obi-Wan’s skin against his, Obi-Wan’s breath punching out against his mouth, the entire rest of the world going away, and--

And, when this kriffing party ended, Anakin was going to carry Obi-Wan off and arrange for a more fitting reunion. For the moment, he brought them both off, fast and impatient. The hot spill of Obi-Wan’s come across his fingers - his cock - was enough to take the edge off, to pull Anakin over into his own release.

They slumped against each other for a moment, breathing the same air, and then Obi-Wan hummed and said, “Oh, dear one, it’s so good to have you back.”

Anakin felt his mouth curve up, sweet delight racing up his spine. It was worth it, all of it, the fighting and death and blood, to hear those words. Worth it to have Obi-Wan grip his hand and lift it, to frown over the mess on his glove and to grouse, softly, “This mess won’t do, though.”

Anakin watched him, cock twitching again, as he licked across the leather, battered by battle and covered with their mingled come and--

Obi-Wan kept eye contact the entire time, and smiled, when he finished, leaning forward to kiss Anakin, mouth tasting of them.

“Come on, then,” Obi-Wan said, breezy, “shall we make our goodbyes?”

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #obikin #spicy #not safe for wizards #mirror au #sith obiwan AND sith anakin #getting a reunion

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

Text

Secret Love Song - Matthew Gray Gubler smut

The one where there’s only one bed and you’re dripping wet.

Warnings: smut, p in v, no foreplay on this one, unprotected sex (do not recommend), idiots in love, 1 bed trope, curses, dirty talk

A/N: Day 9 of kinktober prompts: 1 bed and see-through clothes!

Matthew’s P.O.V.

I should have known that bringing her out here would be a mistake. I’d done it with the best of intentions, of course, but now that we were alone, in the middle of the woods, in a cabin with a single bed while a storm raged outside the wooden walls, I couldn’t really remember my own reasoning.

Why did I think a weekend getaway alone with my best friend would help me get over my not-so-platonic feelings for her?

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” I tried again, scratching the back of my neck while I tried very hard to ignore the way her white dress clinged to her beautiful body, the rain making it more transparent than any innocent clothing item should be. “I swear, the description said there were two rooms! I don’t know what happened…”

I was beyond frustrated with the whole situation, much more than it was rationally justified, but I’d been struggling with trying to keep appearances with the woman I was very quickly falling in love with, and this whole situation wasn’t helpful in the slightest.

“Matthew,” she called my attention, a cold hand suddenly on my forearm, making me look at her in the eyes for the first time in a while. “Relax, it’s not a big deal. I mean, you definitely should get a refund when the weekend’s over, but we already drove all the way here and I really don’t want to get out there again right now.”

As if to punctuate what she’d just said, a lightning stroke right outside the main window overlooking the lake we were supposed to hangout on, and she all but jumped on my arms, effectively sticking our wet bodies together.

“S-sorry,” she whispered, immediately letting go of me, and I found myself shivering more from the coldness that the absence of her touch brought than the iciness I should have felt by having the wet fabric of her dress against me. “I just really hate lightning,” she explained, avoiding my eyes as she looked around the floor we were dripping all over, and I couldn’t help but to smile.

“I know.” That made her look up at me again, and for a second, nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said. It was one of those moments where words felt absolutely meaningless, and time seemed unreal, as she stared back at me with those bright eyes I loved so much. “Of course I know. I’m your best friend.”

Way to break my own moment.

Clearing my throat, I destroyed the connection by looking around the room in the hopes of finding anything that could distract me from how much I wanted to kiss her right now. “Hey, so, do you want to take a shower?”

She took a second to answer, but when she did, I felt like my heart was going to beat right out of my chest, through my throat. “With you?”

My head whipped around to look back at her so quickly that I swore I got whiplash. “What? N-no! I-I just meant, y-you should probably get on the shower already, I don’t want you getting a cold…”

She was pressing her lips so tightly they were starting to look pale, and it made me stop talking all at once. “You were kidding,” I realized, and then her giggles escaped, warming up the room and my heart at the same time.

“Of course I was, Matthew. But would it be so bad?” My eyes grew twice their size at her question, until she started laughing again. “Oh my God, what is going on with you? Why are you acting so awkwardly around me, Gube?”

Groaning, I ran a hand through my wet curls, looking up at the ceiling in the hopes of finding the courage to get through the night. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/L/N. Go. Under the shower, please.”

She was still giggling as she picked up her backpack, stopping on the threshold of the bathroom door to look back at me and say, “Ok, but I’ll be waiting for you.” And with a wink, she was gone.

I gawked at the closed door for a long time, trying to understand what the hell was happening, if she was still joking or if she really wanted me to follow her into the bathroom. I hadn’t heard the sound of the door locking when she closed it, but could that really mean that she wanted to…?

I spent so much time staring at the stupid freaking door that I only realized how long I was standing there like an idiot when I heard her twist the doorknob, appearing right where I’d last seen her right after.

“You’re still there?” She asked, looking sincerely worried about me while drying her hair off with a towel. Before she could approach and make my head even more screwed up than it already was with the smell of her shampoo, I jumped into action, grabbing my own backpack and taking long strides towards the bathroom.

“Yeah, just… gonna take a shower now…”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Matthew had been acting weird for at least two months now, and I had no idea what was happening, if I’d done something to offend him or hurt our friendship in someway or another. Just the thought of that being a possibility made me feel physically ill.

I didn’t want to lose Matthew. That was the whole reason why I’d been trying to keep my feelings for him in control. But now I was wondering if I’d even managed to do that, or if I’d screwed it all up and he was just too great to tell me about how awkward I’d made things between us.

Because that was the only explanation I could come up with to justify these weird vibes that had taken over the once perfect connection we shared. He’d realized I had a crush on him, and now he didn’t know where to go from here.

But I wasn’t ready to give up on him yet.

We’d left the curtains open so the moonlight could still illuminate the room a bit, as we made our way to the single bed in the room. Thankfully, it had stopped raining, but the eventual thunder that struck through the room warned us that there was still more to come before we fell asleep.

“Night,” Matthew whispered before turning to the other side, wrapping himself up on the covers that were available to us. My heart hurt as I looked at my best friend and considered all there was to lose if we left things unspoken, unresolved.

I’d hoped this idea of his to take a trip just the two of us would take away the awkwardness and restore what we had, but it was clear that wouldn’t be the case. Not without some actual effort from at least one of us.

“Matthew,” I started, turning to put one hand on his shoulder, but at the sight of him flinching at my touch, I quickly removed it, dry swallowing at the hurt in my chest. At least, it gave me the strength that I needed to keep on going with this conversation. “We really need to talk.”

I was actually expecting some resistance from his part, but after a few seconds of silence he let out a sigh, pushing away the covers that were over his body and sitting up on the mattress just like I was.

“Yeah, I think so too.” The room felt heavy, far too uncomfortable with this silence that neither of us seemed to know how to break. Just when I was about to open my mouth to speak, another thunder echoed throughout the room, making me jump on the bed and fall over Matthew.

“I’m sorry,” I said, but we were laughing, and just like that, the mood was shifted and we were back to being best friends again. “I miss you, Gube,” I admitted in a single breath, getting lost in those hazel eyes that I knew so well. I heard it when his breath hitched, but he didn’t push me away, which I considered a win. No, instead, he collected my hands in his and started to rub them with his thumbs, and it felt so good to have his touch on my skin again, so right, that I almost felt like I could cry.

“I know, sweetheart. I missed you too.” I wanted this moment to stretch. I wanted to remain in it forever, I didn’t want to have to break it by starting up the conversation I needed to have, because I didn’t want to face the reality of being in love with my best friend, who would never love me back.

But I knew I couldn’t. I had to be a grown up and deal with this. We needed to talk about it, before it was too late. It was now or never. “I know you know I’m in love with you.” Ok, maybe too abruptly. I could see that by the way his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Look, Gube, it doesn’t have to be weird. I’ve been feeling this way for ages, and if you’ve only noticed these last few months, that means we can get over this. I don’t want to lose you. I want our friendship to stay the same.”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on. You’re in love with me?” He asked, and now I was confused.

“Of course I am, but you knew that…” Whatever it was that I planned on saying, it was interrupted by Matthew’s hands on each side of my face, his lips on mine. He swallowed whatever it was I intended to say, and he kept swallowing each of my attempts to break us apart where I hoped to understand what was going on. “Matthew, what the hell is going on?” I finally managed to ask when he had to let me go so we could both take a breath.

Matthew’s P.O.V.

“You love me,” I repeated, like a dumbass, still having the hardest time believing my luck. This amazing woman, who I was lucky enough to call my best friend, actually loved me too.

“Yes, I do,” she confirmed it, although she was frowning. I knew she was confused, and I wanted to explain what was going on inside my head, what I’d been hiding in my heart for so long now, but I also desperately wanted to kiss her until we both were out of breath again. So before she could ask anything else, I leaned over her, fusing our lips together, and forcing her to lie back over the bed, before I climbed on top of her.

She tasted like the mint toothpaste she had lended me because I’d forgotten mine and I never thought I’d love a simple taste so much. I suppose it was due to her, though. It was because the lips I was currently prying open belonged to the most beautiful woman I knew.

When it came the time to separate again, I opted to keep my lips on her soft skin, first giving her a quick kiss on the cheek - something I’d done countless times before, but it’d never made my heart so full as in that moment. Then I kissed just behind her ear, appreciating the way her breath hitched as I allowed my hands to slowly explore her body, carefully pushing up the t-shirt she had worn to bed.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” I admitted, hearing her moan at my words or at the pressure of my hardened cock against her navel. Just the warmth of her skin was enough to drive me crazy. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Her eyes met mine then, and I could see she was trying to find some sign of mockery on them, but I was too busy wanting to feel her, all of her, against me at last. “I’m in love with you too, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for so long. Please, let me show you.”

She looked up at me slack-jawed, one of her hands right over my speeding heart on my chest. After what felt like an eternity, she nodded, allowing her body to fall back on the bed, before pushing up my shirt, signaling she wanted it off.

“Please, show me.” I didn’t need to be told twice. After throwing my shirt on the floor, I worked on getting hers off her body, quickly doing the same to her little shorts. Then she was naked in front of me, sprawled over the bed, just like I’d dreamt about so many times before, and I couldn’t believe it.

“You’re so beautiful.” And she was. She was prettier than anything I’d ever seen, more perfect than I’d ever imagine her to be. “I want to kiss every inch of your body.” By the satisfied little sigh she let out as I caressed her body with my hands, stopping to gently grope on her breasts, it didn’t seem like she minded my plan.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Matthew’s stupidly pink lips engulfed my pebbled nipple and I fucking cried out at the warm sensation, even before he began to pull and suck on it. I was just so fucking sensitive, every nerve end on edge at having my best friend touching me like this, saying everything that I’d wanted to hear for so long.

I still couldn’t believe it, but it’s not like I had the time to let it sink in. And I wasn’t crazy enough to stop this from happening. Whatever it may happen in the morning, I was going to allow myself to enjoy this evening, enjoy the feeling of his huge hands running over my body, the weight of his on top of mine, the pressure of his long cock against my lower belly as he subconsciously rutted against my bare pussy, his eyes connected to mine, sparkling with emotions I couldn’t begin to understand.

“Matthew, please…” I begged, needing to feel him inside of me now. I couldn’t handle the foreplay, not right now, not after how long I’d waited for this. “Please, get inside of me.” That seemed to surprise him, by the way he let go of my breast with a wet sound, still not stopping with his exploration of my body, though.

“Are you sure?” He licked his lips as his hands went lower and lower, until he was cupping my wetness. “I don’t m- Oh.” I had to bite my lip to suppress the giggle that threatened to escape and perhaps ruin the mood at the surprise in my best friend’s face over just how wet I already was. But then he continued to touch me, rubbing his fingers from my hole to my clit before coming back down and pushing two of them in, and I writhed over the covers that had been hastily thrown around the bed, my moans floating around the room. “You’re so fucking wet.”

Hearing Matthew cursing was already an arousing situation for me, but when I was the cause for it and he was knuckle deep inside of me, I felt like I was losing my mind as I jutted my hips up, trying to keep the friction going.

“Yes,” I whispered, enjoying the lust-filled gaze he was directioning me.

“Who made you this wet?” He asked, and I swear, if I could, I would have laughed, but as it were, Matthew’s digits brushed right over that special place deep inside of me, and my moans turned into whines. “Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy. Hold your knees, spread them open. I wanna see you while I take off my pants.”

Just being this vulnerable, my glistening pussy completely exposed to him, made me even more wet. I was about to beg him again when his flannel sweatpants suddenly dropped to the ground, and I was looking at the most beautiful cock I’d ever seen. He was already dripping precum, and my mouth watered at the sight, but at the same time, my pussy clenched around nothing, desperately needing that thickness inside of it.

“Just fuck me already, Gubler.” He was on me in a second, one hand rubbing the head of his cock on my clit, while the other caressed my face. I could feel his heavy breathing on my skin, raising goosebumps where it touched.

Matthew’s P.O.V.

“Are you sure about this?” I had to ask. I couldn’t deal with myself if she were to regret this in the morning. “We can stop now, if you want. We can pretend this never happened. But if we go through with this, I won’t be able to let you go. I’m warning you now so you can make your decision.”

When she rolled her eyes, I felt my chest warm up as a huge smile took over my face. “I swear to God, Matthew, if you don’t get your dick inside of me…” I didn’t let her finish, immediately thrusting in until I bottomed out. Her mouth fell open, her thighs automatically closing in around my body.

“You were saying,” I jested, waiting for her to adjust to my intrusion as I nibbled on her earlobe. The only response I got was the thrust of her own hips, signaling that she wanted me to move. “I love you, Y/N,” I whispered in her ear before I abided by her wishes, slowly but passionately starting to fuck her into the mattress.

“I-I love you two, Gube. Fuck, you’re so deep.” I took advantage of her throwing her head back in pleasure to bite on her neck, eliciting the most delicious gasp from her.

“Yeah? You like how I feel inside your little pussy?” The way she groaned at my words made me smile, prompting me to pick up the speed of my thrusts. “Do you like the way I fuck you, baby? Is it everything you wished for?”

“Yes, yes!” She repeated over and over again, moving her hips to meet my thrusts. “It’s even better, Matthew, fuck!” Sweat was dripping down my forehead and onto her face, and she simply licked it away when it reached her lips.

“I want to stay right here forever,” I warned her, leaning down on my forearms so I could connect our lips once more. “You have the best pussy, God!” Suddenly, she gripped my biceps, carving her nails on my skin. By the way her moans were spilling out of her lips, I knew she was getting close. “You wanna cum, baby? You gonna cum for me? Milk my cum inside this perfect pussy?”

I sneaked a hand between us so I could press my thumb against her clit, drawing quick circles over it, and in seconds, she was trembling, crying out my name as tears spilled from her eyes and I had to grit my teeth to force myself not to shout as I followed her, cumming inside of her.

“We good?” She asked when we were finally able to speak again, our breathing patterns now back to a regular tempo, and I had to laugh. Before throwing myself next to her in bed, I leaned down to kiss her nose and her lips once more, pulling her warm body so she’d cuddle me.

“We’re more than good. We’re together now. It’s perfect.”

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