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#& the strings inside those wings that make up feathers
berrymeter · 2 years
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and before you ask. yes the weapon forms are symbolism. make of that what you will (but also i’m explaining in the tags it’s gonna get heavy tho bc they’re ocs for a game that is essentially Everyone Is Traumatised, That’s Why You’re Here! themed)
#perth.txt#seimei (red)'s flower is kalmia latifolia for its associations w both perseverance & treachery.#his whole reason for being there is ultimately his powerlessness. always trying to do ur best yet in the end nothing u do mattered#this is symbolised by both the fact his weapons are his fists & the fact they're translucent (ie not real)#(in catharsis effect he can only use them for fight related things. his skills are mostly buffs debuffs & heals but he packs a punch)#the rope around his neck ... well. won't dwell on that but also the fact it's formed into wings#& the strings inside those wings that make up feathers#musical person. never managed to pursue that though for many reasons. as for the wings#the whole guardian angel thing. but with the wings made of rope... that again is tied around his neck... mmm#shinya (blue) is his younger brother. he left the house first & did try to provide for shinya after he left#but he still felt as though he had abandoned him (hence the treachery symbolism)#not only that but unbeknownst to him his parents had been intercepting the money he was sending shinya anyway#now shinya... if you know all that u can tell where this is going esp w his flower being white/yellow carnations#ie sorrow & rejection#severe abandonment issues. the claws are both for the cat aspect obv & the fact claws can grip & hold onto things#the fact he can essentially 'double' himself is also playing on the whole not wanting to be alone thing#his attacks don't deal much damage & he isn't big on heals but he can give himself buffs & also like#the doubles allow him to deal a fair amount of damage total#also fun fact! in the real world seimei looks like redo shinya. shinya just took his appearance from a few years ago#his stage name as a musician is SEIMEI. envying his brother for being able to leave & desperately running after him#bc of that though seimei was never really like. convinced by redo at all#yeah he was given a different face & his memories were messed with but it didn't take long for him to recognise his own face on sbd else#however he doesn't know it's his brother. he's kinda concerned about the fact someone seems to Know him that much#god i love these two so much . they're brothers. they're mentally ill (obviously). they're transgender
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sagau-my-beloved · 1 year
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Free As A Caged Bird
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Warnings: general sagau, possessiveness, light threats of violence, possessiveness again
Paring: Venti/reader
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You couldn't deny he looked pretty like that. It was a strangely simplistic word to use, you thought briefly, as if any one single word could even begin to touch the full scope of exactly what you thought of the eccentric bard. But particularly now, as you watched the sun bounce freely off his skin, lighting up his wings with an angelic glow, that was almost blinding if looked at directly, and, of course, how it seemed catch on the teal in his hair.
Oh the great Anemo Archon, it was in moments like these when you could reasonably see how he lived up to that title.
Seemingly completely oblivious to your thoughts, Venti was occupying his mind by delicately plucking strings on his dear lyre, beautiful notes drifting through the air for all to hear, although if you asked him, he would say they were for your ears alone.
You liked listening to him play, it truly was an ethereal type of music, something completely unique to itself, unreplicable. Why he had decided to start dressing in his Archon outfit more often eluded you, but you couldn't bring yourself to be particularly mournful over the lack of concealing green clothing, not as you got to look upon him like this.
You thought briefly on how he had been acting a bit strange recently. It wasn't as if the bard was known for anything other than the eccentric, but this seemed a bit outside the usual scope of expected oddities.
He was clingy, though that, in and of itself, wasn't particularly unusual, but it was more the specific mannerisms he displayed in those moments where he wouldn't let go of your arm for anyone in the world.
The full extent of this was really shown when you were faced with a choice. Either to give in to his whims, containing nothing less than eager devotion, or to focus your attention on other matters, ones that could be argued as far more important. He made it difficult to choose the latter.
You snapped out of your momentary thought, met with wide unblinking eyes before your very own, containing nothing but the purest form of love. You hadn't noticed he'd gotten that close before you could practically feel his soft breath against your skin. Once he noticed that he'd finally caught your attention, Venti smiled and leaned in, touching your nose with his own for a brief moment before pulling away and laughing, seemingly both at your confused state and some form of an inside joke you couldn't possibly hope to understand.
That was your Venti, head full of things you likely couldn’t comprehend, not that you necessarily wanted to even try.
You thought for a moment, less than a moment, about how much time had passed since you had first stepped through those large double doors to the outside garden, how far over your 'only ten minutes' boundary you were. It was hard to think of serious things around him, it almost seemed Venti had a sixth sense for when you were about to make a declaration that caused your absence, and an even better method of avoiding it.
It seemed as if your less than a moment thought was more than enough to spark his divine intuition, to act before you could so much as think of opening your mouth.
You were grabbed gently by your hand and pulled upwards, directly into his waiting embrace, wings wrapping around you with the silent guarantee that he wouldn’t let you go so willingly. You opened your mouth to say something, but he spoke first with the exact same mixture of playful seriousness you had come to expect.
"I'm not letting you go today. Just stay with me, won't you?"
It wasn't a question, not really, as any negative answer you gave would be met with a deaf ear and likely a face full of feathers. You knew your position and chose not to say anything, mentally rearranging tomorrow's schedule to accommodate today's losses.
He preferred it this way, he thought quietly to himself as he continued to take special care of your individual features. From your nose to your eyelids to your forehead, and every place in between, he lovingly adorned them with nothing but the utmost of worship. He would have stayed there for hours too, if you hadn't finally swatted him off with a huff.
Venti smiled at your compliance, rewarding it with a soft kiss to your neck, then another, and a few more after until you couldn't help but laugh at the ticklish sensation. He didn't stop his blatant abuse of power there though, moving his lips up to your jaw, planting a few kisses in that area, then up a bit farther till he was met with your lips.
You felt completely covered from the world, just him and you in a sheet of feathers, secluded enough that he could do what he pleased in broad daylight, unknown to any potential onlookers.
How needy he was, it was truly unbelievable and completely unsatiable. He was back on you again within a moment, this time running his hands up from your hips to your waist with little shame, wrapping them around you in an airtight lock.
It was hard to think of anything else, lost in the moment of how he felt, how you felt with him, so shielded from the world.
You lightly cleared your throat after a moment had passed, signaling his attention from where it was previously buried in your clothing. He could tell what you were implying and let out a huff in response, begrudgingly letting you go but staying just as close.
While walking you were occasionally stopped, often by someone who wanted your input on something of minor importance. It was strange, but after the first few times you could tell that your silent companion visibly stiffened each time you were approached, as if he was suddenly aware of a very intense threat and was stuck in that pivotal moment between fight or flight.
You intended to keep your silent promise, allowing him to follow you around like a pet when you finally stood, a role he was all too happy to partake in.
You walked through your temple, around the many halls and through the rooms, ever closer to the exit in which you would be allowed to be fully free in the beautiful outside world. Although, ironically, ‘free’ wasn’t something you could ever truly be when the very god of freedom demanded so much of yours.
You frankly didn't want to indulge in those moments longer than you had to anyway. It was as if nobody knew quite how to function when around you, couldn’t make any decisions on their own when faced with the prospect of your potential opinion.
But this was still notably strange, a reaction you couldn't remember observing before, as if it was born out of something newly changed.
That isn't to say Venti ever particularly liked when you would talk to other people, you could tell through his strained smiles and dull eyes than he wasn't fond of having your attention off him, on a less worthy subject, but this was something entirely different.
You contemplated it while continuing your walk to the grand temple doors, trying your very best not to make eye contact with anybody else, lest they attempt to approach you. Venti continued to follow dutifully behind, sharing the same sentiment.
It was more than difficult to suppress the surge of jealousy, and even possessiveness, that overcame him at the sight of others near you, it was impossible, completely unthinkable, and, worst of all, it all seemed to dissipate so quickly whenever you grabbed his hand, melting together into something warm and pleasant.
If you were to look at these occurrences from his perspective, you would find your previous metaphor to be more spot on than you'd have hoped.
You had committed yourself to him today, after his begging and pleading you were finally his to adore, and these people rudely coming up to interrupt that was testing his patience. He had a tangible claim to you now and it was as if no one else cared, or even acknowledged the few small feathers tucked away in your clothing, how you smelled so much like him and not anyone else, the exact way he wished it to be all the time.
He hadn't noticed that the two of you were now through the doors into the outside world, the lush hills and soft breeze bringing him back. It took only a second to resecure the facade.
"This is much better, don't you think? Now I have you allll to myself." He chirped, grinning at the prospect of the coming day.
You smiled in return. "You know, I was thinking we could go to Mondstadt city today, it feels like forever since I've hit the tavern."
Venti's grin fell ever so slightly before returning to its former glory, this time with an almost unnoticeable strain behind it.
"Whatever my dearest and beloved creator wants, does that mean the drinks are on you?" That was more of a joke than anything and you both knew it. It would be a cold day in hell before Diluc allowed you to pay for yourself in his bar, no arguing that, and since you’ve grown so fond of your dear bard he often got away with more than most.
The walk was pleasant, a never faltering breeze, courtesy of a certain god, along with a brilliant blue sky. The monsters paid you no mind as usual, although you couldn't help but feel a little nervous when passing one you didn't have particularly pleasant memories with in the past.
True to his nature, Venti chatted your ear off the entire walk, clasping your hand and his and occasionally pulling you along to look at something he spotted out of the corner of his eye, making a usual short walk significantly longer.
"Your grace!? What an honor!"
It wasn't that Venti didn't want a drink, that could never be honestly said, but the mere thought of being around people made his skin crawl. To walk with you like this was the most pleasant thing in the universe, comparable to nothing and an experience he wouldn't trade for anything in the world, which is why he could feel his stomach drop at the sight of Mondstadt's gate, guards posted out front in their usual manner.
He loved his nation and his people, more than almost anything, but oh how he wanted to simply grab your hand and run to the nearest cliffside where you could be alone together, maybe even stretch his wings a bit and take the opportunity to show off.
Venti seriously considered grabbing you and making run for it, it was as if that was all his body wanted him to do.
You, in all your elegance, gave a sheepish smile and a 'thank you', quickly walking past the starstruck guards and avoiding the main walking area in favor of a more secluded side road.
It was funny how his people didn't even recognize him like this, it was as if your mere existence clouded everything else, blinding all to whatever lay around them.
Venti briefly considered pulling you through the side gate, jumping into the open water and pulling you in with him, spontaneously swimming alone together, but you had pulled him inside before he had the chance to act on it.
The tavern wasn't super lively, it being still rather early in the day. Most of the people present were from the night before, either passed out on one of the tables or still lively drinking their way through a bottle, little to no care with what existed around them.
You cheerfully walked up to the bar to order a bottle from Charles, who was all around better at hiding his starstruckness than some of the other townsfolk, and brought it to the table that Venti had snagged with two glasses. You had just finished topping off the second when you were met with a weight on your lap, one that was all too familiar.
"Oh? My bad, I didn't notice you there your grace. But you don't mind sharing, right~?" Venti cooed, making himself comfortable as you hummed. His wings didn't make it particularly easy to reach anything in front of you though, something he took note of as he decided to grab your drink and bring it up to your lips for you.
Your quirked an eyebrow before taking a quick and carful sip, one that seemed to satisfy him as he brought the cup to his own lips moments after, downing a majority of the liquid and giggling.
That counted as an indirect kiss, didn't it?
Venti didn't have time to ponder for long as you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his feathers. He couldn't help but let out a sudden soft whine at the feeling of your arms around him like that. Everything else faded away, it was as if you had some sort of power to make it all seem so utterly insignificant, to leave him with only thoughts of you and how he'd much rather have you alone, free to touch and worship as he pleased, than this crowded tavern.
Something much less pleasant forced him out of that mindset, a stranger, a drunk and obviously intellectually impaired stranger who thought it wise to approach the two of you with a careless grin, one that set Venti on edge.
"Welllll," the man slurred, grin getting wider as your face came into focus, "What an honor, to be blessed by the divine creator's presence."
You could tell by the way the man could barely stand upright that he didn't have any ill intentions and was simply far too gone to understand social cues, so you weren't particularly off put when he attempted to reach for your hand.
He didn't make it, someone else grabbing his wrist in a death grip, inches before his fingers touched your own.
Everything happened so fast, the sound of shattering glass, the weight you had grown used to on your lap no longer there, the look in Venti's eyes as he pinned the other man to the table in front of you with enough force to hear part of the wood crack.
"Try to touch them again and you lose your hand."
Venti’s voice was deathly serious, dripping with a sort of anger you had never gotten close to witnessing. His grip tightened once more as if to emphasize his point, dangerously close to cutting off the man's blood flow, who merely gaped at the scene, fear taking a moment to set in.
You were left staring, mouth agape as well, stuck in temporary paralysis as if time itself had stopped, shocked but also partly scared as the darkness of his expression crept back into your mind.
It was dead quiet for a moment, but only a moment. You were about to stand, about to do something you weren't sure of yet, to interject, to stop further escalation, but before you were able to take even one step you found yourself in the arms of another.
An involuntary gasp quickly left your lips as you were hoisted up, carried out of the tavern before your mind caught up.
Venti was quick to set you down gently once outside, fussing over you and looking for any possible injuries as you looked on in a daze. God help that man if he actually managed to find any.
"You've got to be more careful your grace! You almost stepped on broken glass." He pouted, grasping your hands in his own as he gave you a worried look, all traces of the anger completely gone.
"Venti—"
"Are you ok? You didn't get hurt, right? Please tell me if anything hurts." He cut you off gently, with that same unmaskable worry as he brought your hands up to his face and nuzzled against them.
"Venti… What- what was that?"
He could only give you a sheepish look at your exasperated tone, a small guilty smile forming.
Ok sure, he might have overreacted slightly, but it was hard not to when the drunkard attempted so casually to touch you, when he had obviously already laid claim to you.
Instead of responding, he simply wrapped his wings around you both, pulling you closer and taking the opportunity to rest his head in the crook of your neck, as if trying to silently apologize.
Multiple feelings flooded over him in that moment, a crude mixture of love and devotion, need and possessiveness, tied together with complete and utter worship. He wanted nothing more than to just envelop you in all of it, to drown you in his sea of feelings so that you two could live happily there at the bottom, away from everything else.
He did finally pull away when he noticed your silence, as if you were holding your breath.
"My love, my beautiful and brightest star, please talk to me." He asked, begged, pleated so heavily. You only responded in silence.
He felt as if he could cry, were you ignoring him? Was this a punishment for acting rashly? He'd give you the world to make up for it, in a heartbeat.
You swallowed the fear that was coating your throat, taking a shaky breath, finally coming down from the emotional high.
You could feel the intensity of his emotions too, how they radiated from his very essence. You knew if that man had so much as grabbed you, he'd be dead by now. And you weren't completely confident with the idea that he wouldn't be later.
"Venti,” You started, softly, “My beloved Archon, please, please don't do that again."
Every word after 'beloved' was promptly dismissed as the bard mentally swooned, tackling you to the ground and immediately pressing kisses to your face indiscriminately with an unshakable smile. The word rang in his head over and over again with each kiss, on infinite repeat as he placed a final long kiss directly on your lips, one you accepted.
You knew you were being a bit too lenient with him, you knew this probably wouldn't stick, but the way he chose to make up for it was almost enough to dismiss the idea, focusing solely on how his hands felt on your back as he held you against him, honeyed words of infatuation and adoration whispered ever so gently against you.
The way he treated you like the only person in the universe was almost endearing enough to forget how true he really believed that to be.
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captain-lessship · 11 months
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Bonded Over Dislike Pt. 2
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It had been a few weeks now. Since Zelda agreed to come get you before the next winter, you decided to make more friends in the village. 
They welcomed you with open wings and you made the fair assumption that Rito are a very prideful group. You sat and observed them doing just about anything. 
Some invited you to make carriers for their chicks. It was a eye shaped basket with a metal plate inside, then a mix of fur and feathers to keep the chicks comfortable and warm.
“Am I doing this right?” You asked as you carefully measured the fur to what one Rito told you.
“Yes but always do more. You can always take away but you can’t add without sacrificing the integrity.”
Some taught you how to fish. Which sounded basic but it is a rather amazing thing to witness. One will fly ahead and the others will follow behind with a net. Once a signal was given, the net would drop and the Rito would fly until the net gave significant resistance. 
The fish they pulled up fed the village and you finally could teach the Rito some things. 
All knights had a intense cooking course. 
“Now, you take your rock salt and crush it up, this will season the fish. After the fish, add the greens. Some of the oils of the fish with flavor the greens. Then you add it to the rice and Ta da!” You turned and showed the bowl. 
Those were the good days. But of course there were the other days.
“You’re holding it wrong!” Revali said, for the thirty eighth time. It was late, the sun rang out in a orange hue. You had been doing this since it hung right above you. Hours were spent and yet: nothing was accomplished.
“I am holding it right, it is just a shitty bow.” 
“You’ll get a better bow when you do better with this one.”
“The children have better bows, Revali!” You huffed. You had a bent stick with a thick string that had broke several times. 
“And they learned with these first.” 
You threw down the bow, irritation reaching the peak, “It has been five weeks! It took you three to start ‘teaching’ me. Other than that, we have accomplished nothing. Zelda asked you to teach me so if you are not, I rather not waste time when I could easily teach myself.” 
Revali looked you up and down. A smile coming to him, “Finally. I was wondering how long it would take.” 
You were very confused and were getting angrier, through gritted teeth asked what he meant.
“I noticed that you seemed happy doing things outside of archery and I was testing to see if you would keep your eyes on the prize.” 
“So you were testing me?”
“Yup! I-“ a shoe hit Revali.
“You are so… mean!” You huffed.
This made him laugh, “I know, I know but now,” he tossed back your shoe, “You can use this.” 
From behind the tree he pulled a bow, a beautiful bow that was stained a deep caramel color and was wrapped with a beautiful deep blue fabric around the grip. You held it in your hands as if it was perfectly made to you. It was a art piece.
“It’s… Thank you!” You said, looking at your reflection in the shimmering varnish. 
“Those weeks were spent making it.”
You suddenly felt a sense of regret about your inpatient attitude after seeing the obvious care that was taken to make it. 
“It really means a lot!” You said, holding it properly. Revali handed you an arrow.
“Try it out. If it needs adjusting, I rather do it sooner than later.” 
It then clicked, he made it for you. A huge smile came to your face. 
You drew back the arrow and lined up with the target, with a breath out, the arrow flung from the bow and sharply launched into the target, slightly under the bullseye mark. 
You smiled and turned to Revali, “Whatcha think about that!” 
“It was great,” he noted, “for a first shot.” 
You laughed, “I’m never going to get a verbal compliment from you, am I?”
“Not likely, now I think we should go enjoy dinner.”
Off the two of you went, talking about the bow itself.
As the sun dripped into the room, you stirred awake. You had come to enjoy sleeping in the hammock that the Rito slept peacefully in. You found a odd comfort in being able to rock yourself to sleep. The morning sun and quiet was healing in a way, it was never this quiet at the castle, noise never ceased there but here: nothing but the gentle breathing of the wind and creaking wood. 
You sat up and began to get down when your eyes caught the sleeping form of Revali. His hammock was on the opposite side of the room and was slightly higher. 
He was a decent roommate compared what you had to deal with at the castle. The house was always clean and he took care of the majority of the things and what he couldn’t or didn’t have time to, he humbly asked you, almost as if he was embarrassed. 
It was much easier to sew with fingers. 
You enjoyed the lack of a wake up bell, a sleep bell, a free time bell. There were no bells. You could spend your time as you wished, which was rare. 
Looking around the house and thinking of the friends you had made, you wondered if you wanted to go back at all. True that you loved being a knight and would fight to your death for the royal family but did it make you whole? 
This made you whole. This was living. You had control of yourself fully, nothing was timed, nothing was forced and there was very little competition. 
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cryptid-killjoy · 11 months
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Father’s Day
It was a complicated day for Valerie. She wanted to celebrate Thomas big and loud for his first official biological kids having Father’s Day. She knew it was bigger than that though. Scout and the boys were plotting which touched her heart. Chip was having his own big day and meanwhile honoring the Jet’s memory with Dale. That was something the twins had in their hearts. The non-traditional family had a web of love they had strings still tied to. Even in death some even had access to. To say the family was delicate but strong was one Hell of a conundrum but oh so true. 
Not only that, but she’d been preparing for feelings of Flotsam as Father’s Day approached. She didn’t want to step on Thomas’s day and yet everything in her, Flotsam was clawing at her insides to get out for this. 
She herself always took a moment out by her altar for Dr. Facilier, the shadow man of a father Flotsam grew up with. Valerie would even take a moment to flip through pictures of Zeke and put some bacon and bourbon out like a small tribute. She felt the need to wear her top hat and carry around her cards in her velvet bag for much of the day just to feel close to her Dr. F. She stuck a card in the band instead of a feather like her daddy sometimes did too. She chose the strength card. It would sit there with a big drawing a lion on the side of her head all day. She’d explain it would always fascinate her to stare at whatever card her dad had on the side of his head for however long he wore it that way. Valerie felt like she needed some strength today. It was a good card. 
It seemed she needed it more than ever when Maddy’s gifts arrived. It jarred her emotions even more unexpectedly. After her heart attack and everything else, it was just a lot. She needed calm on such an emotional day for all she held inside her about this day. She needed Thomas’s support on this all while she was trying to make it Thomas’s day. She’d only take her top hat with her strength card off for Thomas’s special performance. 
Thomas did not get any traditional breakfast in bed or greatest dad tee shirts or mugs this year. He didn’t get any power tools. But that man best bet his family had something in store for him. Maybe it was a lucky thing Scout had a month more with no sight because she and Chip and Dale were able to plan for this day without him seeing it coming. He’d only be able to see them setting up the living room come Father’s Day morning, but they had it all planned. 
Valerie would get herself all dolled up in most “Valerie” fashion, very Amy Winehouse hair, the big poof, wings on her eyes, fuck me pumps and all. She threw on her dress she wore on their first date and oh boy did fit so much nicer with a real body. She hadn’t worn it since. 
All the dogs, Dug, Willy, Wanker, the whole sled team were in the living room which was difficult. Willy, Wanker, and Dug were trained. The sled team were more their “outside dogs” that were allowed in whenever they wanted and were still in training. Still Scout managed to get them all in there and behaving for this image. Rephrase. Dug was able to snarl them into submission until they behaved nicely and settled down.  
It was set up for band practice they way they used to do it before everyone moved back away only holy smokes Chip and Dale were up at the mics too, not Valerie. Valerie and Scout were set to play the music with guitars strapped on. The triplets were in bouncers in front of the older kids. The lines of dogs were on the left. Valerie looked like a doowop girl. Thomas must have known he was in for a show when he was told he could come in. They were ready. River appeared on the drums in the background when the music started transparent, but he held those sticks and tap-tap-tap when that old school music that fit Valerie’s aesthetic started up his Father’s Day.
 Scout stood up and sang the first phrase with a twinkle in her eyes, eyes that could see right back through his own: 
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 There's a man at my house, he's so big and strong He goes to work each day, and he stays all day long He comes home each night looking tired and beat He sits down at the dinner table and has a bite to eat Never a frown always a smile When he says to me how's my child I said that I've been studying hard all day in school Tryin' very hard to understand the golden rule I think I'll color this man father I think I'll color him love Said I'm gonna color him father I think I'll color the man love, yes I will
Then Dale steps up and says the next lyrics: 
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He says education is the thing if you want to compete Because without it son, life ain't very sweet I love this man and I don't know why Except I'll need his strength until the day that I die My mother loves him and I can tell By the way she looks at him when he holds my little sister Nell I heard her say just the other day That if it hadn't of been for him she couldn't have found her way I think I'll color him father I'm gonna color him love I've got to color him father I think I'll color this man love
Then oh yes Chip stepped up and sang these lyrics: 
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Our real old man he got killed in the war And she knows she and seven kids couldn't of gotten very far She said she thought that she could never love again And then there he stood with that big wide grin He married my mother and he took us in And now we belong to the man with that big wide grin I've got to color this man father I'm gonna color him love I've got to color him father I believe I'll color this man love He's just been so good to me I know I've got to color him love I'm gonna color him father I've got to color this man love He's just been so kind I think I'll color him love I'm gonna color him father
Valerie would be there doowopping little background oh’s and ah’s and swaying her hips as her kids did this all the way till the end when she pointed at the dogs and got them all howling for a final extra round of singing the chorus all silly and fun. River would disappear the moment the music stopped however, but he’d have his moments. He’d look Thomas right in the eyes smiling as he tapped away. 
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Valerie was so happy by the end she managed to get through it without crying. It was such happy dappy doop-doop-dee-doo sounding song, but with all their history she knew it was emotional strings they were strumming. 
Scout would break the ender with a run up to Thomas jumping up and down, “Did you like it?” 
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originemesis · 2 months
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@kugel-bitch cont. xxx
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"Mmrp." Sappy. Sure, she'll take sappy, supposing it's not the worst streak to have crop up every now and again, spurred by a drop or two of liquid encouragement, that is. She'd like to see him try to convince their peers that Lute the lunatic is actually a bleeding-heart softy under all those perpetually ruffled feathers. There lies the difference in their respective facades. His mask is brittle. Hers never slips. If it does, it is through a conscious decision. Deliberate. A decision she only really makes for him, and only really because it's fair, when he's as easily decipherable as a preschool textbook it's apt she help him glean an insight into her pages once in a while. ...because it's fair—but also because some skittish part of her does want to be known by him. As daunting of a prospect as that is. To be known.
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"Maybe. You best keep that intel under tight wraps, though. I've got an image to uphold—" Feathers spring up like a cockatoo's crest when Adam lavishes the juncture of her neck and jaw with a generously damp lap of his tongue. A gesture which prompts the angel to sort of shimmy and rub herself, both against him and the backboard of the sofa in order to rid herself of the ensuing goosebumps. A light chuff of a laugh in response to that last query before she grants herself the permission to sink comfortably into the quietude of their tender entanglement, a crooked smile baring tapered canines stringing the outermost edges of her lips up high, so that the corners of her almond eyes crinkle with the sincerity of it. "Mmh yeah? Wanna see me crack open a bottle of absinthe?--I'll be the cutest fucking excorcist that ever flapped her wings this side of heaven.--Just gimme twelve hours and a bottle of tylenol." She half whispers, half laughs into the meager space between their lips when they periodically part for a passing moment, only to dip forward and recapture one another at a different angle. Carefully, she presses her avian talons into the sofa in order to propel herself further up his torso until she can comfortably secure her knees in place at either side of his hips. "...hey—" Another octave chipped off her intonation, as hands leave his tousled bird's nest to cradle the sides of his face instead, thumbs gingerly skimming the soft bows of his cheeks. "—you know I would never actually—" If he were paying attention, he might feel the way her lower lip twitches disjontedly as the words temporarily fail her. "—leave...right?"
To be known was something he both wanted and didn't want, but despite the always at-war dichotomy of those two falcon forces of his constantly interlocked at the talons and helicoptering into a helpless freefall, she seemed to always pick up on which side was lower in altitude upon briefly separating and needed more time in the sky to rise back for the next bout of beating each other out of it. After all, the First Man had little else but that title to claim, and while he wasn't opposed to using that façade easily conjured by slipping on a mask and burying himself under multiple layers of robes whose loose and flapping edges would cause folks to second guess if he had just about as many wings as the seraphim did, he still found the transition from the angel they'd made him into the image of his former self just jarring enough to avoid it for as long as he was able, even if it meant permanently existing within the embrace of an exoskeleton. Of course, she was one of the only other beings privy to softer insides cocooned within walls of manic moods and fits pitched to distract him from that inner feeling that compared to all other beastly entities between heaven and hell, he was far more unimpressive than what his title would infer. And yet there he was- unimpressive as usual and pried out of his shell with her talons tangled in his hair and trailing with care like he was something worth preserving- rare, even.
Having already relaxed into his shoulders, still thankful for the dim lighting in the room despite her assurances, he gave a quiet chuckle- amused as always by her willingness to play along with his word games no matter how childish the territory they fell into and often did. "-and you think I don't?" An image to uphold at any rate...though mostly it felt second nature to him at this point. First nature, even...second nature was more along the lines of easing into his skin after a long period of forgetting to force the helmet up farther over his head than just his mouth to brush his teeth. She was probably grateful he did even that, and that it was spurred on by his desire for occasional creature comforts such as the preening peaks of her lips. And if there was any doubt about what he was after during the brief periods of her parting to take shallow breaths, his gaze gilding the edges of her smile was telling enough. He did like it when she spent her shitty mornings sweet talking him. After a night like that he supposed they were both having one.
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"...you would hair of the dog that shit. Need a little more sugar to get things going don'tcha think? Order me up a mimosa, babe. Extra on the OJ ~ " Only way he'd trust a fruit was if it was blended up with heaps of added sugar, of course.
As she shifted around, using the help of her talons and his wing to slide up his chest, Adam gave his own few adjustments to accommodate for her roosting, his hips arched up to hook her in place when her 'hey' coaxed his chin downwards until it was nearly against his own chest trying to get a gander at her mood once the subtle quaver in her voice coaxed his curiosity long enough for him to allow her the custody over her lips again despite the peckish mood he'd fallen into. Gaze half-lidded as she lightly fussed over the edges of his face, he fell silent for a moment as he considered her claim. The memory of her twisting that dagger in to his separation anxiety threatened to flare up, but seeing as she was here now and swearing she'd never, it gave the re-opened yet quick to scab scar the gentlest of butterfly kisses.
"...'course not. We're ride or die, babe." The sweet notion skips a beat when his musing trails on, unmuzzled as always. "-and I might just die if you don't start riding-"
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nach0 · 1 year
Text
pulling on a frayed rope
Summary:
Iris is getting tired of Jacqueline bothering her about wing care. It’s her business what she does with them.
Tensions rise.
Things get said that cannot be taken back.
Ao3 Link
Word Count: 885
Previous
Iris stormed into the cafeteria, rubbing her forehead and ignoring the looks she was getting from the diners inside. Maybe if she went somewhere public she would have the self-control to not murder Jacqueline.
“Please, can you just stop for a moment?”
“What, no sir?” She snarked, going to her usual table and pulling out her crossword book. Everything about her body language and expression screamed ‘go away, don’t talk to me.’
“The word is tetrapod,” Jacqueline said after a glance, sitting down next to her. She didn’t flinch as the book was slammed shut. “This is serious. You need to talk to someone about it, even if you’re pushing me away.”
(Iris knew she would regret not writing it down later. She never got the science words.)
She glanced around. There were stares, but from mostly unfamiliar faces. No chance of being ganged up on.
Her eye twitched at the concern she could practically feel clogging the air. What she did with her wings was her own business, and the nagging was getting on her already tight nerves.
“Just leave me alone.”
That came out more tired than she’d meant. It only increased Jacqueline’s pity.
“If something’s wrong I’m sure we can stop missions for a while-”
“Enough.”
Iris slowly stood. Usually she was far shorter, but their positions allowed her to glare down.
“What the hell do you think happens if missions stop? If I say I need a break?”
Jacqueline shuffled back slightly, opening her mouth to respond. But Iris cut her off.
“The team dies. They’re looking for any excuse to shut it down, and the leader being unstable is the perfect reason. Or maybe they just grab another kid. Another thirteen year old, powers they never wanted, turned into a murderer for the foundation’s greed.”
They were getting stared at. Site guards were glancing at each other, unsure of whether to interfere.
She no longer cared.
“Sir- Iris- I had no idea...”
“I know you didn’t. Because you have no idea what it was like back then. What it could be like if we don’t keep our heads down and follow orders.”
She flared her wings, framing her face in blood red. The cut and pulled feather ends were clear for all the onlookers to see, which by now was everyone in the room. She’d done it roughly and quickly, a rag in her mouth to prevent her from crying out in the dark of a mission safehouse.
Jacqueline, with her own feathers puffed up, stood. Looked down at her sadly. Let out a small, sad, sigh.
Her anger turned cold.
“Why don’t I tell you exactly what would happen if I skipped even one mission.”
The shaking rage in her voice was the only emotion, making it otherwise flat.
“Everyone who wants our team gone swoops in. We have no reason to leave our cells anymore. Oh, you have your tests, but they can muscle you into those. Why bother rewarding you for cooperating?”
There was loud chatter that died down slowly at it got closer. Iris didn’t bother to look at whoever had just come in.
“Our doors get locked. No roaming, no cafeteria, nothing except those four walls. You can say goodbye to anything you’ve been given. Too expensive to bother giving skips that aren’t useful anything to do.”
“Iris.” Jacqueline cut in; tone full of an emotion Iris can’t bother to identify. “Maybe we should move this somewhere private.”
She scoffed. “You were the one who started this here. So I’ll be the one to finish it. You protest these changes. You’re a person, you shout at them. You never did anything wrong.”
She glared at her, but her eyes were focused on something that wasn’t there.
“They laugh at you. Because you’re wrong. You haven’t been a person since you stepped foot in this place. They let you think you are until you’re not a compliant little puppet. And when your strings are cut? You’re left willing to do anything to get a semblance of normalcy. Even something you almost escaped to avoid doing.”
Iris turned away and pulled her wings tightly to herself. She didn’t meet anyone else’s eyes.
“Go back to your cell, 1985. You’ll be called when needed.”
Jacqueline let out a sharp gasp and Iris’ eyes widened with regret, whirling around and reaching out. “Wait, Jackie I didn’t-”
“Yes sir.”
Iris watched her walk out, flinching when she realised Stacy and Leora were watching her in shock from the doorway.
They both followed Jackie without a word.
She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there before a guard escorted her back to her cell, the clank of the lock ringing loudly in the empty space.
No use getting attached to objects that can be taken. She’d told herself years ago.
Now she would kill for a distraction.
She pulled her jacket off, running a thumb over the Alpha-9 logo stitched into the sleeve. She knew if she pulled it off, the other one would be underneath it.
On the other side sat the foundation’s symbol. The same symbol on every guard’s uniform, every researcher’s lab coat.
The symbol worn by everyone who had ever belittled her, dehumanised her, made her feel like nothing.
And now she was just like them.
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xenospacebabe · 2 years
Text
Broken Wings pt. 7
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Warnings: Cursing, explicit sexual content, BDSM/Hawks! Daddy dom themes 100% X-Rated, MINORS DNI
You’d felt the wind in your hair so many times before, however, the chilly air felt different tonight as Keigo flew high and swift in a direct course towards his apartment. He hadn’t brought you here, yet. Too afraid of getting to this point to even consider. All of the negative scenarios he could think of, all resulting in you leaving him once sex was on the table. The fear had been evident for months, you could practically smell it those nights together on your couch when things got too hot and heavy. He’d quickly compose himself, put you to bed, and leave in a scatter of feathers.
But not tonight…
No, tonight, Keigo was making you his. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered in a frenzy, full of nerves and doubts. Oh how Keigo held you…tightly and safely in his arms so high above the ground. You could float among these clouds if he let you go.
“I’m sorry it’s such a mess…but…this is it.” After landing on a balcony that was several floors up and opening a wide, sliding door, warm lights faded into illumination when his presence was sensed. You looked around tentatively, expecting to see lavish furniture and expensive things like a big screen tv. However, Keigo had an enormous apartment that was sparsely decorated or furnished. It almost looked like a hotel room. If it hadn’t been for dozens of preened and shed feathers all over the place, you’d have sworn you had stepped into a Ramada Inn. Whatever Keigo determined as a mess was certainly different than what you did.
“Uhh…”
“Yeah it’s not much, I’m hardly ever home. So I just kinda have the basics…” Keigo almost looked ashamed or embarrassed, but you found it endearing. He closed the patio door once you were further inside, shuffling his shoulders free of his coat that just dropped to the floor. His eyes were on you, watching you closely as you became acclimated to your surroundings. His hand lifted and beckoned for you.
“C’mere, Baby Bird..” Your feet acted before you registered what he said and once you did, his arms encircled your waist. Keigo’s mouth was on yours a second later in a kiss so deep that your knees buckled. But his grip tightened. Your body moved on its own and pressed firmly against his with the utmost indecency. Gloves were hastily removed from his hands and his fingers found your skin beneath your scrub top.
“Mmh…Keigo..” Your skin was soft and warm under his fingertips, he just couldn’t help but to grip the flesh at your hips and scrape it with his nails. It caused your pelvis to react by jolting forward, grinding so hard into his groin that you made his wings shoot out to the sides with every feather bristling. He captured your bottom lip between his teeth while walking you backwards towards his bedroom, one of the double doors ajar enough to swing open once your back made contact.
This was heating up and accelerating faster than your mind could keep up with, the wheels in your head spinning and your inner voice screaming “Fuck me!”
Once your calves collided with the unmade bed, you lost all inhibition. Keigo felt it under your skin and tasted it on your tongue, you wanted him just as desperately as he wanted you. And as he untied the string of your scrub bottoms, you worked on his belt. All the while never wasting a breath away from each other’s lips. His belt and pants hung open and you slipped your fingers under the tight shirt that he kept tucked in. Keigo lifted his arms and off it went, disappearing somewhere onto the bedroom floor. You weren’t sure how his wings fit in and out of his clothing, but it was such a smooth and fluid transition that it didn’t seem to matter.
“Are you nervous?” When his voice dipped and drawled that way, you always felt a tightening seize your insides. You hesitated at first, but then shook your head. You looked up at him with such a longing love in your eyes that he felt blown away.
“N-…no. I’m ready, Keigo. Please..?” Keigo’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he groaned deep from his gut.
“Mmmh…good girl.” Feathers were all around you, removing your clothes one article at a time as you both collapsed onto his bed. The weight of his body on yours pressing you into the mattress made your insides soak and squeeze.
Keigo dropped down your body, kissing, licking, and nipping his way up every inch of you. This was such an unfamiliar sensation that you were positive that this attention alone was enough to make you cum. But the way he worshipped your figure helped you to hang on a little longer. You tasted so sweet, like the air after a summer rain.
Eventually, he made work of your bra and underwear, even as you squirmed in embarrassment because they didn’t match. Keigo hovered above you, looking down at you with the most love you’d ever seen in anyone’s eyes. His warm palm caressed your cheek adoringly while wearing that crooked smile you loved so much.
“Baby Bird…?” You looked him in the eyes expectantly, seeing a strange darkness veil the golden gaze. When he knew he had your attention, the hand on your cheek moved until his thumb held your chin.
“I want you to call me…” Keigo paused, bright eyes darting to the side in thought.
“Daddy. From now on.” He watched your chest rise and fall with quickened breaths. Your nipples hardened from the lack of attention, and you weren’t receiving any until you answered. “Understand?”
Faster, your heart was in your throat and racing. Even Keigo didn’t know where the need to be addressed that way came from, the carnal instinct to claim you was insatiable and far more powerful that any reason or logic. He was used to women throwing themselves at him, calling him all sorts of pet names. But this was the one his ears desperately needed to hear you say.
“Yes…” You whispered, and he looked as though he was expecting more. “Yes…Daddy…”
“Good girl.” His thumb on your chin dipped into your mouth, pulling your jaw down just a little. Enough for him to shove his tongue right down your throat and press you deep into the mattress under his weight. Massive wings unfurled to their full span and made him appear like a beautiful angelic sculpture. Your fingers danced along the feathers and he hissed in response, pinning both of your wrists down with one hand.
“No, no. No touching just yet. You’ll get your turn, Little One.” The shift in power dynamic did nothing for your composure and you were positive that you could cum by just listening to him speak. The roughness of his voice just did something to your insides that made them twist. You knew then you’d do anything he ever asked. “Let me show you the stars, Baby..”
“Stars..?” Bewildered and buzzing, you barely acknowledged him. However you came back into focus when suddenly the warmth of his palm was cupping your cunt that was already drooling with the sweetness he couldn’t wait to try. Keigo’s movements were calculated, watching your expressions change with every nudge or stroke.
Starting with the pad of his thumb pressed against your very swollen clit, he traced lazy circles around and around until you felt tingles in the bottoms of your feet. Two digits carefully parted slick folds to slowly insert his middle finger down to the knuckle inside you. And already, those warm and spongey walls were contracting and squeezing his finger.
“Ahh…Keigo-..”
“What did I just tell you?” He interrupted you and quickly halted the thrusting of his digit which made you whine out loud. Why was your body reacting this way?! No man had ever made you squirm on the verge of tears like this before.
“D-..Daddy…Please, I can’t stand it, I want you now…!” The sweet desperation in your voice made his dick throb with such an intensity that he had to center himself. So to coax out those moans that would set you free, he inserted another finger and quickly established a rhythm.
“Huh? What’s that? You’ll have to stop moaning long enough for me you hear you. What do you want?” The wet sounds of your juices and walls accompanied by your whining moans were all the noise that filled the bedroom and his ears. Seeing the normally quiet, put together, and professional doctor turn into a writhing and mewling puddle in his palms was unbearably arousing.
This man on top of you was the absolute opposite of the man who you met a year ago. It frightened you, if only a little, but at the same time found yourself so invested that you wanted to explore every bit of Keigo that he’d allow. And truth be told, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had sex, let alone good sex. At this point, your driving force was the desire to become someone special to Keigo. And have an orgasm or two simply because you deserved it. You were ready for this, you had been ready for a while actually. Now that the truth of your feelings were out in the open, it was time.
“Good girls get fucked. Very good girls get dicked down the way they deserve. Now tell me, Baby Bird, which one are you going to be?”
AN// Alright listen 👀 I have every intention of finishing this. I just didn’t want to make this too long. Be kind, I write smut all the time, but this was a first for me since I’ve never done anything for this fandom before!
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the-jaded-dark · 1 year
Text
Day 2:  Drink Me
Day 2: Orbit - Illusion  - @daily-writing-challenge​​ Character: The Jaded Phoenix or the Raven of Midnight?  Mention of Jackary @jackarychaoti
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Footsteps on the old wood creak overhead and underfoot.  I’m not the only soul lost in this relic of the past.  The entrance lay behind fallen boards once nailed in place, a gaping hole leading into the dusty darkness within.  A mouth that won’t utter a word yet there’s no mistaking the invitation on its tattered-carpet tongue.  
Come in.  Follow me.
The decay makes the pathway dangerous. Doubt lingers like a vice around my throat. Ember eyes cast a fiery glow in the darkness.  My nature is never easy to hide, especially in his domain.  He creeps on me.  Icy fingertips raking down my spine, sending shivers in goosebumps across my delicate skin.  The bracers will not see me left broken long if he manages it, powered by a shard of the sun itself, even his cold cannot squelch that light.
Over here.  Up here.  
The room at the top of the house is as I remember it. Once a bedroom, it became a sanctuary and nest for a bird losing grasp of reality.  The painting is ethereal.  Flowing black ink shifting steadily through a sequence of time, like tree boughs bending to an inexistent wind.  A bundle of letters sticks out from beneath the remnants of bedding, both half melting into one another.  The blanket is thick with dust and mildew, shoved aside without a thought in want of those bundled papers so ready to crumble at my touch.  Just one word, one letter, a memory, who else did he know.  Did I know?  
I never told Jackary what I found that night I didn’t come home all those moons ago. 
The vial lies on the cracked floorboard it landed on when it slid from my fingers.  Ink colours my lips black, slinks down my throat dense as cooling blood and just as cloying when it permeates my senses.  The darkness fails to creep, slamming into my senses and sending them scattering beyond my grasp.  I can’t breathe.  The fire glow of my eyes extinguishes itself and plummets us into the pitch.  The world twists, turns.  I fall inside out and upside down.
I never told Jackary.  I never told him.
The little vial of blackened memories tied to the string binding the envelopes together became my moment of stupidity I couldn’t own up to.  A mistake made just over a year ago now.
My hand collides with the wall.  Frost curls and coils out along the wood, cracking the fragile board further.  The wings that unfurl from my back sprawl as wide as the shadows in the room, growing like a feathered cloak behind me with each skittering bit of darkness that melds itself to me.  I stumble out to the balcony, shoving the glass door out of my way.  The glass tinkles in protest, the wood of the rail creaks in annoyance of my weight against it.
Just one breath.  Just one moment of clarity.  
The crack resounds through my head.  Darkness blankets me, cushions my freefall by removing my conscious mind from the moment of impact with the dead ground.  The cold swells, a hard shell over my arms, my legs, weighing down my chest.  I can hear myself gasping.  The fire within dwindles into a single green flame at my core.  My hope, my light.  My Emerald.
I never told Jackary.
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thebigshotman · 1 year
Text
It was now several minutes later, and during that time all light in the mansion was extinguished. The power instead being diverted to a certain robotic suit downstairs as it repaired itself, fixing the holes and dents and slashes that had worn into its armor.
Reattaching itself to the ceiling. Making sure its power and personality core was wound tightly inside its chest cavity.
Before finally, power was restored. Down in the basement, the body lurched upwards. Feet dangling and barely touching the floor.
It regained consciousness, its head cracking from side to side with the hideous clanking of gears. Quite literally shaking off the rust. A blazing bright yellow light turns on in the left eye. Followed by an equally bright pink light on the right.
Spaul was awake again. A giant, toothy, 1 foot tall and wide smile opening and clacking closed as he speaks. His voice even louder than it already was, pitch shifting up and down, speeding up and slowing, at complete random.
*H0LY-HOL-HOL-Y-Y [Cungadero]…1’D [[forgotten…]] WH4T IT FE-FE-FEELS-S-S L1KE TO BE-BE-B3 A-A-A [[BIG SHOT]]!!!!!
He reached up a sharp, clawed hand to smooth back his hair, which was now black and grey bird feathers absolutely smothered in motor oil. Wings slowly spreading to their full splendor, large and patchwork in both color and design.
*I F33L [awesome!]…FEEL-L-L L1KE-LIKE [[-one million dollars!!!!]]…FEEL…
His gaze drifted upwards, daring himself to look up. There they were. Those damned lime green wires, reaching upwards into infinity. Looking back down to his hands and feet now.
They tightened around his every joint and limb.
A stiletto-shaped boot drove itself downward, almost slamming onto the ground.
*…ST1LL [tied up at the moment.]…
A hand flew to the triangle-shaped crest on his chest, above where his smaller, inferior, form, rested. He could feel the steady mechanical beating of his Heartbreaker mechanism. Good, at least his offensive options were still here, too.
He lowered onto the tracks, the strings lessening their hold for a moment. He had never walked in this form before. One click-clack of a foot, then the other. Slow and steady. Slow and-
A gap in the tracks tripped up his movement, sending him downwards. Almost falling onto his face if it weren’t for the strings breaking his fall at the last second.
His lenses flickered as his position automatically rectified itself, resetting back to his normal floating position on the wires. He was silent for a moment.
Before his mouth opened as much as it would allow and he screamed to the Heavens.
*H0W?!?! HOW CAN-CAN-C4N-N I [[protect the ones you care about]] 1F I C4N’T-T-T EV3N [[get out!]] 0F HERE 1N-IN-IN [one lovely package~❤️]?!?!?!
The distorted commercial rattled along the walls, and he forced himself to calm down with the equally distorted noises of a relaxation tape. Breathe in. Breathe out.
*…YEAH. 4LRIGHT-RIGHT. EV3RY BUDDY’S [gotta start somewhere!]. 1’LL G3T-GET THE H4NG OF TH1S-IS-IS. S00N…
(Spaul NEO is now taking your questions in the basement.)
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ichorai · 3 years
Text
pearls and pastries ; j.jk
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pairing ; pirate!jungkook x baker!reader (gender-neutral)
summary ; a crew of pirates have been pilfering your village for several weeks now and one particularly keen buccaneer has stopped by your bakery practically every visit; whether it be for the delectable pastries or for the sweet baker he's taken an interest to, jungkook couldn’t say. but there’s a catch - the baker doesn’t know that he’s a pirate.
themes ; fantasy, angst, fluff, pining, slight action, pirate au, baker au, medieval au
words ; 3.6k
warnings / includes ; descriptions of weaponry, stealing (from the rich), jungkook being a sad lovesick sap, pirate!bts, poetic sadness but when do i not do angst lmfao everything i touch turns into written sorrow </3
a/n ; written for the @ficscafe fic exchange event for @sunshinerainbowsbts !! i hope you like it <3 i'm definitely considering writing a part two to this :D
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Jungkook wasn’t quite fond of parrots. Well, his mislike wasn’t necessarily directed towards the multi-hued rotund bird itself, but the fact that the wretched thing was squawking out a poor rendition of what Jungkook had announced earlier whilst clambering down the crow’s nest.
“I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery!” the winged devil screeched from atop Jimin’s shoulder, ruffling its bright feathers as if taunting him.
Shooting it the nastiest of scowls, Jungkook reached behind his head to untie the vermilion bandana holding his overgrown locks away from his narrowed eyes. “You better shut that bird up before I toss it to the sharks, Jimin.”
“If I let you do that, I’d also have to throw you overboard. The both of you are equally annoying,” the other pirate snorted in contempt, glancing up at his younger friend striding across the ship before moving his gaze back to the knapsack he was emptying for the pilfer. Out fell several empty bottles of rum, a few gold pieces glinting in the harsh midday sun, two jewel-encrusted daggers, and a worn eyepatch that suspiciously looked to be the same as the one Yoongi always wore over his left eye. “You seem to forget that we’re here to steal from the rich, not buy fancy breads! You’re lucky that Namjoon has half the decency not to kick you off the boat. Jin, however fond he is of you, still calls you a moocher.”
Rouge faintly dusted across Jungkook’s cheekbones as he coughed into his fist, lifting his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I steal stuff sometimes,” he muttered under his breath. It was useless to defend himself against someone who saw straight through him.
“Sometimes, my foot!” Jimin scoffed, hiking the bag over his shoulders. “Bringing back a goblet you found rolling down the street doesn’t count, you know that, right?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes to the cloudless sky, far too stubborn to admit that Jimin was right. With not another word, the young pirate clambered off of the large vessel and onto the rickety docks, grunting upon landing. It didn’t bother him much that Jimin was irked at his lack of contribution. They were rich enough as it is; what was the rush?
The air was tangy with sea salt and damp wood as he inhaled a deep breath, setting off for your bakery. Walking there took exactly three hundred and seventy two steps. Jungkook had memorized the shortest route to your little shop, mumbling the numbers under his breath with a growing grin blossoming across his lips. He subconsciously rolled the sleeves of his white tunic down, the fabric concealing the pirate tattoos inked all over his arms.
When the youthful sea wolf stepped foot into your store, a familiar chiming of the bell hooked atop the door echoed across the cream-walled room. At the reverberating sound, your head peeked out from the kitchen situated in the back. An illuminating beam danced on your features, eyes lighting up with mirth at the sight of Jungkook.
It made the muscle within his chest slam against his ribcage, desperate to be freed from its confines because it belonged to you, and only you. He wasn’t quite sure when the sudden fixation for the village baker his crew was stealing from started, but he had acclimated to his own change of heart by visiting you as often as he could.
“Fancy seeing you here today. Are you coming in or are you now my human door stopper?” Your heavenly voice floated towards Jungkook, snapping him out of his thoughts. Sheepish, he shuffled inside, engulfed by the warm scents of chocolate cakes, powdered pastries, caramelized fruits, and toasted almonds. His stomach gave an impatient snarl at the sight of tempting desserts. You had also walked to the front of the counter, dusting your flour covered hands on an apron. Some of the white powder had managed to smudge on your cheek, and Jungkook had to resist the urge to reach over and thumb it away.
“Hi,” he said with the brightest of grins. “I’ve missed you.”
At his bold statement, you suppressed a chortle. “I think you missed those chocolate cream puffs you like so much, not me. What’ve you been up to while you were gone?”
Jungkook hesitated at that. For the short amount of time he’d been visiting you, not once had he mustered the courage to tell you of his true origins. A savage pirate like him shouldn’t even be around the likes of you. You had no idea that he was part of the crew that was robbing your village, and the very thought of you finding out had him terrified. You were a taste of all the goodness in the world, and Jungkook was afraid you’d crumble into ash if he dared touch you. The sinner had no rights touching an angel, after all.
“Visiting family,” he hummed, quick to move on. If you noticed his strange demeanor, you didn’t say anything. For that, Jungkook was grateful. “I brought something for you.”
There was something about your smile that seemed to expel any and all feelings of gloom in a room. Jungkook was no exception to this feat, his knees almost buckling against the soft pink counters. He righted himself by leaning his elbows on top and propping his chin up with a palm. Gods, he didn’t know he was in this deep.
“Oh?” you set your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. “To what do I owe such pleasures?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “For those cream cheese tarts you made me last time I visited. Thought I’d repay you.” Whilst saying this, he used his free hand to reach into his back pocket, fishing out a string of authentic pearls, adorned with a glimmering clasp of gold the same hue as the sun.
Your smile melted into a confused pucker, brows knitting together in a muted painting of hesitance, yet you ogled the expensive necklace dangling by one of his spindly fingers nonetheless. Where on earth had he gotten such a valuable treasure? “But you already paid me with money. I really can’t take that, Jungkook.”
Disappointment was easily detected as he slanted his lips to the side. “Alright, then.” He tucked the pearls back into his pocket. It surprised you how easily he had complied.
The worrisome atmosphere was quick to dissolve when the bell jangled once more. A small child meandered in with a toothy beam, holding a small pouch of clattering coins in their palm. They were no taller than Jungkook’s midriff, and he liked it a little more than he should have watching a certain softness adorn your features at the sight of the kid.
“I recommend the cinnamon apple pie. Or maybe the brown sugar crepes if you’re looking for something sweeter,” Jungkook said, gesturing to the treat behind the display glass. The child angled their head to stare at the taller man with wonder. “Anything Y/N makes is to die for, though.”
The child excitedly babbled something in return, but you didn’t quite pick up what they had said. You were far too focused on Jungkook’s animated features when he kneeled down to point at some more desserts. Sure, he was a handsome man, you’ve known that since day one. You’ve never really looked at him in this light. It was as if he were carved from pure luminosity, whittled by the hand of the most skilled sculptor. Everything about him was practically perfect; the gentle slope of his nose, the angles of his raised eyebrows, the dappled rouge of his lips, the beauty marks mottling his dewy skin, the dangerous cuts of his jaw, the twinkle of gaiety you found in his irises. With the sunlight filtering through the windows, it basked Jungkook within a golden radiance, the shadows casted along his face only highlighting his best features, doing nothing to aid your fluttering pulse. Has he always been this beautiful?
“I’ll have a slice of apple pie!”
The sudden clinking of coins being dumped onto the counter snapped you out of your trance, and you kindly wrapped up what the child ordered and handed them the paper bag. Both you and Jungkook watched as they smiled in thanks and trotted out of the bakery. Curse his handsome physique.
A little flustered by your earlier thoughts, you busied your hands by sorting the coins the kid had coughed up. Jungkook, ever the kind soul, merely stood with you as you worked, engaging you in entertaining conversations to keep you occupied while your store was empty. Where did the sun go once it disappeared down the horizon? Why did everybody else seem to enjoy the bitter taste of coffee except him? Why did his heart beat so quickly when around you? The last question he couldn’t muster the courage to ask, and much to his perturbation, he already knew the answer. You enjoyed Jungkook’s company very much; to the point where you couldn’t quite remember what it was like before he had sauntered into your life.
Before the both of you knew it, the sun was already setting. Jungkook noticed the way you deflated just slightly when red kissed the sky. It was a telltale sign that Jungkook was long overdue to go back to his ship. Yoongi would have his ass if he was late again. The whole situation was ridiculous, really. He felt like a fairy tale princess running away from the ball before his clothes grew into tatters. Well, in his case, he supposed it’d be pirate-wear.
Your smile betrayed only the gentlest hint of disappointment as you thrusted a bag of warm cookies into his arms. “Take this for the road,” you had said.
And so Jungkook did, smiling like an idiot the whole way back. A part of him absentmindedly wondered what your face would look like when you noticed that he had left the pearls on the countertop for you.
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The ship rocked as the young pirate scampered across the deck at a startling speed, flinging the doors to the cabins open. Six older pirates stared at his panting form, a few looking on with unsurprised indifference, most glaring at him in disappointment. Jimin merely stuck his tongue out, his childish way of saying I told you so. There was expectancy in the captain’s eyes, but it waned away at an instant upon seeing that Jungkook carried nothing of value. Namjoon pinched the space between his brows in mild frustration.
Stiffly, Jungkook jerked his arm to thrust the bag in his hand forward. “Cookie?” he asked. Nobody said anything. Jungkook slowly brought his appendage back down, guilt roiling in his abdomen. “I take it you guys don’t want the cookies?”
With a huff, Namjoon stalked forward. “Of course we want the cookies, give me that.” He snatched the bag out of Jungkook’s hands and tossed it to Taehyung, who caught it with eagerness vividly splayed across his ruffled features. “I do have to admit, we’re getting tired of you bringing back nothing but sweets every time we go on raids, Jungkook. C’mon, kid, this is a team effort here. Look, just today Yoongi managed to steal a dozen coffers from a nobleman. The least you can do is try.” True to the captain’s word, there was a mountain of chests and boxes full to the brim with gold coins and shimmering jewels piled to the side of the cabin.
Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Jungkook nodded in understanding, though not without a miniscule frown twinging his lips. What was a pirate without his treasure, right?
Taking note of his glum demeanor, Namjoon clapped a hand to the younger man’s shoulder. “We’re not mad at you—”
Yoongi snorted at that.
“We just… want to help you help us,” Namjoon finished, ignoring the salty pirate’s quip from behind him.
The youngest man on deck raised his hand to his forehead in an awkward salute. “Yes cap’n!” Shame prowled within his chest; just thinking about the dishonor he brought to the pirate reputation by loitering in a bakery all day, ogling at sugary treats (and the sweet baker, but Jungkook digresses).
A part of him felt even worse knowing that he’d see you less and less, what with the other pirates breathing down his neck. He could only hope that you’d still look forward to his visits, though few and far in between.
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Authentic bottles of expensive wines were shoved into his knapsack by Taehyung, lacing chains of aureate crammed into his hands by Hoseok, bars of cold silver wedged into the pits of his arms by Jimin, and more treasures thrown at the youngest pirate to hold as they lithely ran across the village. Being one of the stronger and more agile ones of the group had its downfalls, after all. He was being treated like a pack mule, hauling all the treasure for them. Not that he was going to complain; Jungkook knew that he deserved the rough-housing.
“Hold onto these for me, will you?” Yoongi gruffly uttered as he slid the thick hilts of gem-encrusted daggers into his belt. Jungkook complied hesitantly, but not without a suppressed groan of annoyance. “They’ll sell for more than a pretty penny, so don’t lose them.” The older pirate seemed to be in a grumpier than usual mood, considering he lost his eyepatch and the mottled scar crossing over his eye was on display for anybody to gawk at. It would’ve been worrying to Jungkook if he wasn’t aware of the fact that Jimin was merely prolonging his juvenile game of ‘keep away’, attempting to dance away from Yoongi’s inevitable wrath.
Perhaps being a pirate wasn’t his true calling, because Jungkook found that his mind kept wandering off to the matters at hand—running away from the guards. Though it was a relatively easy task (the guards were quite thick-headed in this village), he thought about the pretty plants dangling from the balconies of a building they jogged by, or the scents of exotic spices carried by the souq market not far from where they were. Most of all, much to his expectancy, his thoughts were centered around you. Had you gotten many customers for lunch rush? Were you lonely without him? How many times have you smiled today? Jungkook was all too fond of your smile.
Blinded by his unsaid affectionate ramblings, he only barely caught on to Namjoon’s quiet, “We shook the guards off for now. Be careful next time, Seokjin. The sun’s about to set soon; we should head back to the ship before it gets dark.”
Jungkook hissed out a small sigh of relief, bending over to catch his breath. Jogging across the village would have been no problem, but running with treasures twice his weight draped all over him was a different story.
When he righted himself back to standing, the sudden pit of shocked trepidation unfurled within his abdomen. There you were, beautiful as ever, but a terrifying sight to see. Normally you’d be the only person he would want to see, but as of this moment, you were the absolute last person he fancied bumping into.
Why now? He had the most rotten of luck.
Today you weren’t wearing your regular apron, but a pair of fitted grey trousers and a soft beige blouse far too large for you, hanging off of one of your shoulders as you cradled a basket of breads and cheeses and other groceries in your arms. It was a simple outfit, but one that made his heart clench nonetheless. The glinting of iridescent pearls draped over your décolletage had his breath stolen away from him as raw sentiment overtook his form. You were wearing the pearls he left for you and you never looked more beautiful. Jungkook, on the other hand, was clad in clothes that practically screamed pirate; a golden-clasped corset tightened about the small of his waist, a tattered white button-up tucked into his dark trousers, worn sea boots covering his feet. A large gun was also slung over the belt cinched around his hips, along with multiple daggers of the like, and not to mention all the riches and jewelry the other boys had thrown at him.
You couldn’t see him. No, it would absolutely ruin Jungkook.
Perhaps dropping everything he was holding in a panicked effort to dash away as quickly as he could was the worst possible thing he could have done to not warrant any attention.
The concerned and confused questions erupting from the other pirates as they whipped their heads towards their youngest comrade went completely ignored. He scampered away from them, lunging towards a shadowed alley and hiding behind a teetering pile of musty boxes. A stray cat nuzzled against his leg, but Jungkook merely shooed it away with a frustrated glare and not-so-subtle shushing gestures.
What a fool I am, the young buccaneer berated himself, pressing a knuckle against his temple in frustration. He waited for another minute, before slinking out from the shadows, peering around the corner to see if you were still there.
No sign of you. Relief seized his chest, but not without the gentlest flower of disappointment staining whatever solace he felt, a weed amongst the roses. Jungkook’s mind was still reeling from the fact that you were wearing his pearls.
Treading carefully, he strode out of the alley, turning the other direction before halting in his tracks completely. A queer, garbled noise tumbled past his lips.
It was you, a confused smile gracing your features, and all Jungkook could think about was how the sunlight was made for you, how you glowed in front of him, how he wanted to cradle you into his chest and murmur confessions of his pure, unadulterated love into your ear. But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead, he merely stood there, as if he was imitating a statue in all of his pirate glory. Terrified, regretful, and ever so angry at himself.
Fate was a cruel game.
The pearls shone prettily on your skin. A reminder of the best mistake he’s ever made.
Your eyes had yet to wander down to fully take in his appearance, for your expression still held fondness for the man that’s visited your bakery so often, still having no idea that he was a filthy pirate, locked into his molten gaze. “I think you dropped something…?” The golden chains dangled loose between your fingers as you held them out to him. Jungkook didn’t take them, frozen on the spot.
It was as if he could pinpoint the exact moment you found out his true origins. Your brows furrowed upon seeing the weaponry strapped onto him, one of his pirate tattoos on display (Jungkook cursed himself for not thinking of rolling his sleeve back down), and the six other men watching in silent despondency behind them. You had always been a sharp one, far too smart for your own good.
Or, perhaps, it's always been obvious. Jungkook was only wishing for the impossible.
“You’re a pirate.”
The statement wedged a stake into his chest, splintering his heart into pieces. When you stepped away from him, confused horror marring your beautiful features, Jungkook knew that it was over.
He lost you.
A flurry of emotions, overwhelming and tumultuous, evidently took over you at his lack of denial. You looked to be just as heartbroken as he was.
“You’re a pirate,” you repeated, dazed. You wanted him to say something, anything. Much to his surprise, you didn’t sound angry. You took several steps back this time. The weight of pearls around your neck suddenly felt choking.
The sudden calling of his name had his head whipping around to look at his captain, watching the brutal exchange with gentle sternness. “We have to go.” The guards’ll be coming soon, no doubt.
Jungkook looked back to you, any and all words lodged in his throat. Despite the fear in your irises, a soft expression of acceptance folded over your visage, for under all his pirate exterior, he was still the same man that you thought so fondly of from your bakery. The look was short-lived however, quick to fade away when Jungkook reached out for you hesitantly. A part of him pondered how a simple baker managed to steal from the stealer. You had robbed him of his heart, and Jungkook didn’t even try to stop you.
Upon seeing you inch away in mortification at your new revelation, Jungkook retracted his arm and pursed his lips. The agony clawing at his stomach was begging to be set free. He wanted nothing more than to get onto his knees and plead for your forgiveness.
I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I’m not the man you thought I was. I’m sorry I fell in love with you.
His name came out again, this time from Yoongi. That meant it was serious.
“I’ll come back,” Jungkook said, tears rimming the bottom of his warm doe eyes. You watched him start to trek backwards. “I promise.” The words felt heavy on his tongue, like he was swallowing down a knot of thorned ivy.
Before you had the chance to say anything back, he was gone, bounding back to his ship with his comrades. Not long after, the distant barks of guards pursuing them rang throughout the village. You took that as your cue to leave. Swallowing down the urge to cry, you forced your eyes away.
You hoped he wouldn’t uphold his promise, for the both of your sakes.
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bnhamixjuice-sfw · 3 years
Text
ANON REQUEST: Hawks, Dabi and Aizawa: spot an ex he had a bad break up with, he sees her walking around struggling to hold on to a bag of groceries while pushing a stroller with a toddler in it that looks awful lot like them, and the he awkwardly confronts them when the bag falls out of her hands.
Tags: Manga Spoiler, Mention of cheating, Angst to Fluff.
Hawks
“I’m so sorry Dove, I didn’t mean to–”
“Didn’t mean what? to deny that I’m your girlfriend in front of the media ‘cause you had a job agreement with the commission not to reveal me! okay Keigo you’re doing this for what reason exactly? Hero Reputation? More women you can use to cheat behind my back again and expect me to forgive you? I–I don’t want this kind of life anymore!”, you wailed in pure anguish roughly wriggling your wrist away from his firm clutch.
He felt suffocated when he needed to let you go for all the things that he did to hurt you, holding back the urge to chase you outside when you frantically closed the door, not looking back anymore on him. Leaving the top pro hero falling on his knees, lonely between these four walls of his house.
After all this time he can’t forget you, longing to see your face everywhere he goes even on pro hero awarding events or his usual patrol work with Endeavor looking for you through the crowds, praying to see your smile again that he misses the most.
His life was crumbling apart without you, but luck was on his side today when he spotted you not too far from where he was signing autographs for his fans while stealing some glances. As always, you’re still beautiful standing there.
Trying to fix your grocery bags while clasping the baby-carriage’s handle. He hesitated at first to approach you thinking you’re probably waiting for your husband to pick you up and your child. And that’s when a tuft of yellow hair popped out.
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“Mommy look it’s Hawks, Awtoglaph pweasee awtoglapph”, his excited pleas reached Hawks’ ears. pointing his fingers towards your ex-boyfriend who waved a hand on both of you.
Soon red feathers clumped together on the ground, preventing your bag to fall.
“Wow what do we have here, a kid full of energy today, so where do you want me to sign your autograph?”, stooping down beaming a smile with his eyes crinkling behind his yellow visor making your child gasp in awe.
He knew instantly that his suspicion was right seemingly looking at his own reflection with those golden honey orbs and black lines on those eyelids and small bump protruding behind the kid’s shirt, red feathers similar to his, messily cramped inside.
“Ke–Hawks here… ”, almost calling out his first name when you handed him a notebook and a pen.
Slightly feeling his gloved hand against your palm.
“Hawks look I hab wings too–”
“Honey we need to go home now or else you’ll miss your favorite show again, now say bye bye to Mr. Hawks”, you interrupted, sneaking a warning glare on him not to tell him anything before gently freeing your child’s wings out from his shirt’s makeshift holes.
“Little fledgling I guess your wings were moulting, so did your Daddy tell you about it”
“Hab no Dawdy but Oh you see… Mommy Lov’ Dawdy so much that she booboo cries” you were shock-stricken softly hushing your child out of embarassment.
“Well kid make sure to tell your Mommy not to cry okay cause Daddy loves her so much, yes don’t forget to tell that to her every day I–”, he stammered with his voice started cracking, overwhelming him with emotions too easily, swallowing the lump forming on his throat.
“Your father loves you too kid trust me, and surely there’s not a single day he’s not thinking of your Mommy, his only Dove–Ah I think I’m taking too much of your time Miss I-I’m so sorry”, halting it immediately, muffling a few sniffles before finally signing his signature.
Your heart began thumping so loud, not expecting him shamelessly grabbing your hand, burying you into a warm embrace in public.
“Wait Keigo stop this, everyone’s taking so many pictures of you”
“No I don’t care anymore, listen Dove I’m so sorry and I still love you, come back to me please I promise I won’t hurt you again, I’ll do better this time just let me make up for it, and for our son”
You can’t blame yourself for giving in, accepting him wholeheartedly knowing this is what you promised to him once.
To never let your future child experience the same heartache he suffered from his past.
Dabi
He regret those cruel words that came out from his mouth the first time he was too fed up of your constant admonishment of putting a rest on his revenge against his family forever since you cannot bear to see him exhausting his body anymore, starting this heated discourse again between you.
“You always bring this up y/n every single day and it’s too annoying already, why are you siding on Enji too much Babydoll… come on just say it you really want us to have a perfect family, so cool to have a child with this debilitating quirk too right?”
Sucking your inner lips anxiously avoiding to tell him something about that last one, you felt his grip on your sholders constricting furiously waiting for you to answer him back, but your tears spilling from those precious eyes made his stomach churn in guilt realizing what he had done when you began screaming on his face that everything’s over, shoving him away and locking the door of your house shut.
He knew how much of a dick he was, the worst break up that’s been haunting him everyday with your terrified face forever etched on his mind
It’s been a long time since the last time he saw you after you moved from your old house and he cannot find you everywhere until today.
He saw you pushing a stroller on the side of the road and having a hard time balancing the bag of groceries on your other hand.
Perhaps you found someone better than him and additionally having a child; a normal child considering he’s not the father. that’s what he thought until something caught his attention.
Squinting his eyes, he was slack-jawed to find a familiar cerulean orbs and red hair on that young boy giddily calling you Mommy.
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He took this rare chance of talking to you again by catching your bag of groceries that you clumsily dropped, your eyes met recognizing your ex-boyfriend instantly when he removed his mask. piercing eyes gazing down below observing your child’s similar features.
“Babydoll why didn’t you tell me about him, our son?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about Dabi and refrain from calling me that nickname anymore, also stay away from MY son before I call the police”
You breathed heavily snatching back your grocery bag from his grasp, clutching the stroller’s handle in pure anger.
“Daddy you meanie, go home”, tugging his pants with those tiny hands.
It hurts you to see your own child begging for his father to go home, when you can’t even tell him how you often show his own picture to your child that’s why he recognized his own father easily, keeping him close to his heart and memory forever.
You can’t hate your only child’s father.
He was expecting him to cry on his intimidating face when he bent his knees down to look at his child closely, ignoring your earlier threat by patting his son’s head seemingly accepting this foreign fatherly instinct.
“Kid look I’m obviously a bad guy, I don’t want you to get in trouble so maybe next time when your Mommy allows me, don’t worry I’ll probably see you again next time pepperoni haired kid”, chuckling when he saw his son’s childish pout, letting him pinch his stapled cheeks annoyed at his nickname.
“Y/n this is goodbye then”, flashing you that thin smile noticing his lips quivering a bit as he stood.
Shoving both of his hands inside his pockets before turning around to walk slowly away from both of you ignoring your child’s tantrum cries calling for him to go back.
“Ssh… sweetie don’t cry okay–Wait Touya!”
He stopped on his tracks when you yelled his real name again, like how you used to call him that before out of endearment.
“We’re going to stay here from now on so same address, the usual okay knock thrice and use our anniversary day on pressing the doorbell and don’t forget our password, listen I’m doing this for our child only so you better show up tonight or I won’t ever give you a chance”
He disappeared quickly after that, and tonight he never failed to show up incessantly ringing the doorbell many times even greeting you that typical password; a kiss.
A yearning kiss, hands intertwining the moment you opened your heart once again.
Aizawa
“Shouta you keep missing my calls these past few weeks when I needed you the most, you barely have enough time to visit me when I was sick the whole week and now you’re late, fine I don’t wanna hear your excuses anymore”
Those bitter words pierced him like thorns, seeing you slip out that engagement ring from your finger and placing it on a table whispering those bitter words he doesn’t want to hear from you.
“It’s better if we end this relationship now before we regret something, I–I can’t imagine my future being married with you or even having a child with you who pathetically seek for time and attention from his workaholic father, sorry Shouta”, you covered your mouth trying to bite back your tongue from spilling about your unborn child.
Running outside the restaurant leaving him heartbroken that he can’t further speak out his words anymore because everything that you just told him was painfully true.
He doesn’t deserve you, blaming himself for not appreciating you enough despite of your effort of enduring the hardships of having a pro hero fiance who often risk his life for his students. A man who can’t even spend a time to take care of you.
Nevertheless, he wanted to mend back those strings that binds you to his heart, always pouring out his loneliness on visiting that Cat Cafe on his day off every week reminding him of memories you two share.
You often take him there to spend a date knowing he’s fond of cats and snapping lots of photos of him every time he ends up sleeping on the corner with cats huddling close to his face nearly suffocating him.
Keeping your engagement ring to him all the time was the only thing that calms him down whenever he’s in dire situation on his job, thinking how much he wish to meet you here again.
Unbelievably seeing you again one time, rubbing his weary eyes once and twice to know if it’s truly you. Indeed, he can’t forget that familiar caring smile of his beloved, finding you outside the cat cafe currently having a problem of organizing your bag of groceries.
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“Mawmmy, neko pweasee I wanna touch it!”, your daughter began whinning clapping his hands to get your attention.
He can’t believe his own eyes when your child resembles him too much with that obsidian dull eyes and sleek black hair minus for that pigtail hairstyle but that scowl seems a carbon copy of his own.
“Wait Baby I–”
“I think you need help Y/n”
You were flabbergasted to find your ex-fiance taking a hold of your bag of groceries with his whip that was about to hit the ground and voluntarily offering his Neko tote bag for you which you persuaded him not to.
“Mawmmy pwease I want that too, Neko”, her tiny hands reaching out determined to get it no matter what.
“Baby no–”
“Well your daughter love cats so much, you can give this to her, please just a friendly gift”, taking out something from his pocket leaning down a bit to his side to rummage on that keychain, letting you see his necklace around his neck with that old engagement ring of yours dangling.
“Found it, here kid I’m not sure if you’ll like this”
“Aww Mawmmy have that too um…right Mawmmy, so no thanks Mister”
There’s no way you were married that’s what Shouta suspected when he saw you not wearing any ring, and obviously that cat keychain was closely similar to his anniversary keychain that you two bought for each other.
“Y/n I can drive you two back to your house if its okay–”
“Mawmmy please say yes”
You sighed in defeat not having a choice in the first place and also giving freedom to your child to spend time with her father who doesn’t know about this.
His car was still the same, sitting beside him and your child now sleeping behind after getting so tired ogling on his car’s cat accesories.
You chuckled upon seeing your daughter’s face on the mirror messily drooling, leaning slightly on your side to wipe the corner of her mouth.
“Darling is she our daughter”
“Eyes on the road Shouta, and yes so what will you do about it. Do you expect me to ask for any financial support from you oh maybe spending your precious time for our daughter that I can’t even get from you years ago”, you sarcastically uttered, stabbing him rudely with those truthful words he was unprepared to hear from you.
“I understand if you’re still mad at me y/n, but I just want you to let you know that I want to set things right first before asking you to forgive me. Because I don’t want to miss this opportunity again to tell you how much I wanted to talk to you or maybe to see you in your white wedding dress”
You can’t resist how determined he was to get close to you again, feeling his hand slowly making its way on you.
Giving back that engagement ring to whom it truly belongs, and that was you, a dream he wanted to come true despite it being too impossible.
Turning your head away to wipe your own tears, proposing for the second time that you have been waiting to hear from him all along.
“She’s your daughter Shouta and don’t you dare make her cry of I’ll scratch your face harder than what your cat does”
“That’s too kind of you, I mean my cat misses your deadly belly rub too, you named him Mr. Pickles right, well I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see his Mom again and his new sibling soon”,
You both exchanged soft giggling catching up on one another by starting the conversation about your lives and so on and so forth, and apparently your child was eavesdropping on both of you.
Your daughter muffled a “Pro hero mission success” after accomplishing her goal, peeking a bit to see you wearing that shiny ring.
She knew it the first time she saw that stranger recognizing him from one of the picture you often place under your pillow, her daddy.
Well she did inherit Shouta’s intellectual skills after all.
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Do not repost this fic/headcanon.
Disclaimer: I don't own My hero academia nor its characters and plot.
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ghirahimbo · 2 years
Text
Revalink Halloween Week 2021 Day 3: Lens of Truth
feat. concept art Revali :D I might continue this with tomorrow's prompt because it feels more like a "to be continued" than a one-shot, but we'll see? Also, I've had the idea for a story where Link encounters the Champions as wandering spirits King Rhoam-style for a while, but I also know somebody made a post somewhat recently with the same sort of idea? If anyone happens to know who that was so I could credit them I'd appreciate it, because I can't find it anywhere T-T
It was an old Sheikah relic, Impa had explained as she gave it to Link, passed down through uncounted generations. Used by ancient heroes in journeys past, the Lens of Truth pierced through deception and lies to show that which was hidden—to reveal the ultimate truth in its unblinking eye.
…Or something like that. Link took his legends with a dose of skepticism these days, all too aware of how even one hundred years could shift a story sideways. Still, he'd thanked Impa for the gift, and discovered a few good ways to use it. Taluses were made obvious at a distance now, and those treasure-headed Octoroks never got the jump on him anymore. Most importantly, Link could identify Yiga with it at a glance, and that alone made it more than worth the space it took up in his pockets. Now, instead of reacting warily to each lone traveler he met on the road, he could reach for his hidden hand glass, looking through surreptitiously to see if all was as it seemed.
Of course, the Yiga only ever tried to pass as Hylians, which meant that when Link first came across the strange Rito playing violin by moonlight, the Lens of Truth never even crossed his mind. 
Link heard him before he saw him, though the lantern hanging from a pole at his belt marked him against the night soon enough. Pale gray feathers stuck out in tufts above a wide-brimmed hat, fading to dusky charcoal where the tips of his wings held both bow and violin, with a thick, woven poncho hiding everything in between.
The melancholy music tugged Link forward as surely as Kass's cheerful accordion ever had, until he stood before the stranger. The brim of his hat pulled low masked the Rito's expression, but the bow paused against the strings as Link approached.
"It's a bit late for traveling, don't you think?" he asked, raising his head enough for Link to make out one green eye. "Old bones have been known to attack those who travel past sunset."
Link shrugged, watching the stranger curiously. Stalmonsters weren't any harder to deal with than their living counterparts. Easier, in fact.
"I've not had a problem with them."
"No?" The Rito's laughter had a short, bitter edge that matched his mournful music. "Well, I'm in no position to call you cocky. You are still alive, after all." Setting the violin aside, he reached inside his poncho, pulling out a rolled-up cloth. “Since you are here and alive, would you care to examine my wares?”
Brow furrowed, Link leaned in to watch as he rolled it out.
"I thought you were a bard."
"I play as well as that, do I?" the Rito said, a satisfied smirk twisting the corner of his beak. "Of course I do. I've had plenty of time to practice, after all… but no. I simply deal in arrows."
And so he did. Spread out on the cloth for Link's perusal was every kind of arrow he'd ever seen, plus a few he didn't recognize. Picking up the strangest one of the lot, Link examined its mechanical arrowhead curiously.
"An ancient arrow," the Rito said, his smirk more pronounced now. "I'd be a bit more careful with that one… assuming you enjoy continuing in this plane of existence, that is."
Link stopped just short of uncovering the arrow's hidden point, flushing as he set it down carefully. Some of them were no doubt far outside of his price range, but it never hurt to restock on arrows, and these looked like they would fly straight.
"How much?" 
"Oh, make me an offer, I suppose," the Rito said, sounding far more disinterested in the topic than most merchants were. "I've not much patience for haggling."
That turned out to be true enough. Link felt almost embarrassed at how little he paid in the end for a full quiver of arrows, elementals included, though he had the feeling that the merchant would have taken a lower offer still if Link had dared to make it. 
"Heading to Rito Village?" the merchant asked as he took his scant handful of Rupees, watching Link out of the corner of one eye with uncomfortable intensity. Link could almost believe he suspected Link of trying to cheat him, except he hardly seemed to care about that one way or another. "I could point you in the right direction, if you'd like."
"Uhhh… no." An odd question, considering that Rito Village was nowhere nearby as far as Link knew. "I'm looking for Zora's Domain, actually. Do you know the way?"
"I'm afraid not," the merchant said, his sardonic grin lopsided now. "Somebody else can help you there, I'm sure."
He bent as if to roll up his much depleted pack, but Link stopped him.
"What are those?" he asked, pointing towards a few unassuming arrows tucked off to the side that had escaped his notice. There wasn't much to differentiate them from the standard arrows already filling his quiver. In fact, Link couldn't really say what about them had caught his eye, aside from maybe their curiously blue-feathered fletching.
"Ahhh." From the merchant's expression, he'd been waiting for Link to ask. Holding one of the arrows delicately, he ran a feathered finger along its perfectly straight shaft. "A creation of my own design. These arrows will hit whatever you aim them at."
"Isn't that how all arrows work?" Link quipped, and was met with a sharp glare.
"You misunderstand," the Rito emphasized. "These arrows will strike where you aim them." His smirk returned. "Even the most average marksman could make good use of these." The words "like you," though not spoken, came strongly implied. 
Link frowned, not (entirely) out of offense. Such a claim sounded farfetched, yet somehow, he believed it. He also believed he'd be paying far more for these arrows than he had the others.
"How much?" he asked warily. Sure enough, the merchant hummed in the pretense of thought.
"Shall I part with such a treasure for mere rupees?" he mused, still playing with the arrow absently. "I'll admit I had in mind a bargain somewhat less traditional—information, perhaps? I have three of these special arrows in my possession at the moment, however…" His visible eye flicked towards Link's face. "I will trade all three away in exchange for one question answered honestly."
Confused, Link nodded slowly. He felt as short on answers as he was on Rupees these days, but with nothing to lose he might as well try.
"Shoot."
"What makes someone deserving of a second chance?"
"...What?" Link blinked, caught entirely off guard. Somehow, he hadn't expected anything quite so philosophical. "What do you mean?"
"A second chance," the Rito merchant repeated impatiently, as if he expected Link to keep up with this bizarre conversation. “An opportunity to rectify a failure, or right one’s own wrongs. What makes one person worthy of such a chance, while another must wallow in their own defeat with no hope for redemption?”
“I…”
Link went quiet, considering his answer. The question must have meant something to the strange Rito, or he wouldn't have asked it. At the very least, Link had the strong impression that any less-than-earnest answer on his part would be dismissed outright.
"Maybe nobody deserves one, exactly," Link said at last, thinking it through as if it was some kind of riddle. Was it? "That's what makes it a second chance, right? Or... some people get one and some people don't, but I don't think it's a mark of worthiness. Terrible people get second chances sometimes."
"I see." The brim of the stranger's hat pushed low over his face again, hiding his expression. "What determines who gets that second chance, then?"
Link shrugged.
"Fate?" he suggested, a bit helplessly.
The stranger gave the same laugh as before, short and bitter.
"It always comes down to fate, doesn't it?" he sighed. "The hero chosen by the sword… fate's eternal darling." Raising his head at last, the Rito met Link’s gaze directly for the first time, his eyes glinting harshly. "So by your estimation, you did not deserve your own second chance?"
Link froze. Maybe it was the challenge in his green eyes that gripped him with strange familiarity, or a trick of the light that made the lantern glow ever so faintly green… or maybe it was the memory, still recent, of an old man's tattered clothes transforming in an instant to kingly raiment that burned with ghostly fire. Whatever it was, Link found himself reaching for the Lens of Truth, pulling it out slowly.
Somehow, the Rito caught his intention.
"Think carefully before looking," he warned, and though he didn't quite step forward, Link felt the intensity of his stare like a weight against him. "Once you've seen the truth, this is over for both of us."
Though Link stopped short of looking, he made no move to put the lens away, either.
"What's your name?" he asked coldly—and to his surprise, the Rito laughed.
"Ill-bred Hylian," he said, shaking his head. "Finally got around to asking, did you? If you must call me something, you may call me Vale. Does that suffice?"
Slowly, Link nodded. Not his true name, obviously, but still better than nothing.
"And what is 'this,' exactly?"
The Lens of Truth slipped back inside Link's pocket, and though again Vale didn't visibly move, Link felt his relief like a cool breath of wind. With a flourish, he presented all three arrows, blue-feathered fletching pointed outward.
"Why, me selling you arrows, of course. At unbeatable prices," he added dryly—but then his humor faded into something uncertain. "And… something else, maybe? My own second chance, perhaps, little though I suppose I deserve it."
"As we agreed," he murmured as Link took them silently. "May they always fly true, as promised."
Their exchange concluded, Vale retrieved his violin from where he'd put it aside.
"Mira?"
"Give my regards to Mira when you see her," he said, setting the bow against the strings. "It's been a long time."
Link frowned.
But Vale was already playing, the melody echoing mournfully over Necluda's darkened hills as he ignored Link completely. Disgruntled, Link watched him play for another moment before turning reluctantly back the way he'd come earlier. Vale couldn't have made it clearer that he'd been dismissed. 
On the point of putting the arrows away, Link paused to examine one, running his fingers along the blue feathers. Arrows that never missed... well, he might as well test one out to see if he'd gotten what he 'paid' for. Seized by a mischievous impulse, Link drew his bow, whirling around and aiming for Vale's hat.
A darkened hilltop met his eyes, filled only with the already fading sound of a violin.
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binxyu · 3 years
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Desire. The word of many meanings. Lust? Money? People desire what they can not have. You? You desired power. The power to hurt those who had wronged you. San? He desired to have you and if offering you your desire would get him that then he was going to give it.
>>Pairing: Choi San (dom) x fem!reader (sub) | demon!san x power hungry!reader
>>Word Count: 3.6k
>>Genre: Oneshot / Smut
>>Warnings/Kinks: Demonic themes, yandere themes, bondage, branding, biting, blood play, choking, cockwarming, corruption, creampie, degrading, fingering, marking, murder (graphic), oral (receiving), overstimulation, size kink, slapping, and spitting/saliva
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“Do it”.
The voice rang in your head as it always did. It was similar to a little devil on your shoulder. Someone telling you to do the worst you could do.
“Come on, sweetheart. You know you want to”.
You closed your eyes, the gun shaking in your grip. You had nothing against this person but the voice in your head knew how much you enjoyed the thrill.
The thrill of pulling the trigger.
The thrill of having the power to do so and end someone else’s life.
“We had a deal, baby. Each kill I help you with in your favor will result in one kill for me. Kill him”.
Your finger felt controlled, a silent pull to just come forward a little. Just enough to send a bullet into the man’s chest.
He looked at you with such pleading eyes, coated in the finest ocean blue that could have any other woman in his hands.
Not you.
You were in love with the voice in your head.
A voice you couldn’t explain. A voice that offered you power in exchange for completing their dirty work.
Finally, you let yourself fall to the desire and pulled the trigger, a bullet flying into the man’s heart.
“Good girl”.
It was a raspy voice, one full of authority and mischief. You knew the voice better than you knew your own family’s.
A wave of relief overcame you when the voice went quiet. You looked at the man in front of you and wondered what he could have done to have been so worthy of death.
The gun was placed back into your pocket once the safety was on and you simply walked out of the place. You couldn’t dwell on what you had done. It was all worth it in the end.
Miraculously, the deal between yourself and the voice was true and, as you killed upon their request, you gained more power. More reputation and strength.
There was odd downsides to this deal, however. Like the dreams that occurred every night.
Dreams about the same man that left you wanting so much more when you woke up.
“Oh, it’s you again”, your voice seemed to echo in your own bedroom as you looked at the familiar... creature.
“Who else would be here?”, there it was. The same voice that appeared in your head throughout the day.
You felt witless. He was right. No other thing or person visited the realm of your dreams as often as he did.
“You did well today”, was all he muttered when you remained silent. All you could do was stare at him as he walked closer.
His wings were a masterpiece on their own, a marvelous display of black. It was a beautiful way of showing he was rather symbolic of darkness.
His eyes glowed a blood red as they looked into your’s, his pupils blown out due to his hunger. You winced as his fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face to examine you as if he was deciding if you were worthy of another night with him.
“You still won’t tell me what or who you are”, the creature chuckled, a sound so unfitting for him.
“You’ll find out soon”, and he was gone.
Another unspoken rule of the deal between you and the creature was isolation. You were not permitted to speak to others.
That much was clear when one of your co-workers was found drained of blood, a horrific sight to anyone but you. You had seen it before and that’s when you realized you were literally in a deal with a devil.
So, you avoided others in hopes that the little devil on your shoulder would keep quiet. No one would get hurt that way.
You were wrong. Horribly wrong.
You hadn’t realized but people slowly disappeared when they were around you. Just because the little devil wanted you all to himself.
“Y/n, come here. I need your help”, your boss ordered you and you felt an itch within you. An itch and desire for that control you were used to.
Reluctantly, you walked over and picked up the heavy box.
What is this guy moving? Rocks?
“Where to?”, your soft voice asked politely, sucking up to the man that could potentially give you more wealth than you could imagine.
“My office obviously”, his tone was cold as it always was and you nibbled your bottom lip in annoyance. You turned around, about to make your way out of the meeting room and to his office when you heard his screams.
Your head whirled around to see him on the floor, his finger pointing in sheer horror at something across the room. The door slammed behind you and your eyes finally found what he was screaming about.
“Hello baby”, there he was in all his unholy glory. The same man inside your head and your dreams.
“I figured I’d take care of your little problem here”, you shook your head, either from shock, fear, or denial. You couldn’t tell which.
“N-no you don’t have to”, the creature laughed at that and with a wave of his hand, the boss’s throat was slit. He quickly bled out and his body fell in a heap on the floor.
“I didn’t ask”, his smile was insincere, a warning to watch your mouth. You noticed it and shut up, noticing how his wings were not as perfect as they had been previously in your dreams.
The bone seeming to hold them together to his back was unnaturally bent, looking horrendous and painful. The feathers surrounding those areas were anything but perfect. Yet, he seemed effortlessly attractive.
“What do you want?”, your voice came out small and weak, a contrast to the usual powerful voice that came from your body. It was obvious the creature could take away your power just as he had given it to you.
“Surely you remember why I’m even here to begin with, little one”, the nickname shocked you as the memory resurfaced once again.
The shovel was cold in your grip, causing a bone chilling spark to run down your spine as you covered up the box. It was the standard recipe.
The bones of a dead black cat, a photograph of yourself, and graveyard dirt. All compacted in the small box now buried deep in the center of the crossroads.
You were younger at the time by a few years, a little more gullible. A little more desperate.
As the blood moon rose, you could feel the presence of someone else in the area. Well, more like something else.
The red light shun on him gracefully as he sat on the hood of your car, not caring how dinted it could become. Your eyes trailed down his body, engulfing any feature you could take in to remember him by.
At the time, his hair was a light brown and his eyes were not that blood red you had grown used to. They were a warm brown. They were so welcoming.
“Are you the devil?”, you wanted to keep your distance from him, but it felt like an invisible string was pulling you right to him. Your body soon stood in front of his own, barely away from being considered between his legs.
“No, little one. Just something awfully close. Now, what are you selling your soul for?”, the demon expected many things. Things he had heard so many times before. Money, love, saving, etc.
What he didn’t expect you to say was that you needed a way to get revenge on the murderer of your mother.
“What? You don’t strike me as the revenge type”, his infamous chuckle came after the words and you huffed. You hated being considered too weak or kind. People already played around with you for that reason.
“Are you going to help me or not?”, your hand found solace on your hip as you waited for his response. He hummed as if in deep thought before tilting his head in a teasing manner.
“Depends. What do I get in return?”, you noticed how his gaze had lingered on your hand, watching how it softly kneaded the flesh there.
“Keep our options open? You can have my soul or whatever you want whenever you want. I just want that man in the ground by the end of the week”, he didn’t expect the hint of sass in your tone but he loved it.
“I’ll need to put that in writing darling, but you have a deal”.
“Why did I not remember you before?”, you were sure you had never had that memory before now. The demon only smirked before walking towards you, his hands holding your waist. He rubbed them up and down as if he was memorizing every curve.
“I couldn’t have you running off. Besides, it was so precious to watch you think you had killed that man. You seemed so... proud”, he bit his lip, admiring you.
“It’s been you, hasn’t it? The voice?”, the demon nodded and took your jaw in his hold, tilting it every which way as if he was deciding to auction you or not.
“Yes. Your power comes from me and I think I’ve finally decided what I’ll be requesting for your end of the deal”, a thick lump formed in your throat, hoping that this wasn’t going to be your last day on Earth.
“You have been doing my dirty work for years now. No one is more fit to be my prophet than you. I want you to be mine. My little prophet”, your eyebrows furrowed as his words processed in your head.
“Prophet? For what?”, you had to sit down, walking over the body on the floor still and sitting on the desk.
“To be the next crossroad demon. Imagine it, baby. All the power you have now will be tripled, you’ll be immortal, and we’ll be together forever. I can tell you desire nothing more than power”, you found yourself nodding before you could even register any consequences. He had you at the power being tripled.
“How insatiable”, the demon tapped his fingers against the desk as he hovered over you, “if I didn’t know better than I’d consider you a deadly sin. I think you’re more greedy than actual greed is” before you could argue his lips were pressed against your own in a feverous manner. It filled your body with warmth from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head.
Your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed him back, feeling how his body got impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth when you felt his crotch rub against your own.
“Unless you’re even crazier than I thought, let’s do this somewhere there isn’t a dead body”, he laughed once he pulled away, your eyes going to the forgotten body on the floor. Your cheeks went red as the demon picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.
His wings wrapped around your body, encasing you in a makeshift shield as black smoke surrounded you both. His wings opened up to reveal your bedroom and you realized something as your back landed on the soft mattress.
“Wait- what’s your name?”, contrary to popular myths, demons had no trouble sharing their names. He had just simply forgotten.
“San”, his lips latched onto your neck, sucking and biting the skin there as if you already belonged to him.
“San”, you repeated, testing the name and a rumble came from the demon’s chest. It was so similar to a growl that you had to look around the room to make sure no animals were there.
“Fuck, say it again”, his hands gripped the thin fabric of your shirt but he waited.
“San. Please”, there was a hint of desperation in your voice and it was something San had never heard from you. It made his eyes go blood red for a moment.
“Are you sure you want this? It will change everything”, you stared into his eyes and, for once, there wasn’t any fear in you. They were warm as they stared back at you, a sure fire way of San telling you he would never betray you.
“I’m sure. Let’s be powerful together”, you nodded and the demon smiled, ripping the fabric of your shirt apart like it was just some dusty old rag. Your hands held onto his suit and then you remembered something.
“Can I see them?”, San stopped to ponder what you meant. That’s when you lowered your hands to the small of his back, your hands gliding over the cuts on his back. That’s when he knew what you wanted.
“I didn’t think humans liked them”, he chuckled as he took off his own shirt, his wings springing out soon after. He kept them tucked towards him to avoid hitting anything on your end tables and all you could do was admire them as you laid there.
“I love them. So beautiful”, your fingers gently stroked them, trailing along the curve of the bone as if to memorize the feeling of them under your touch.
San nodded with a sincere smile, one you had yet to see. It took you off guard but you loved it. San pulled up your skirt and groaned when he saw how wet your panties had become. They were stuck to your folds, showing everything to him.
“You’re so wet, baby”, you whimpered when he trailed his finger up your folds and back down again. He simply pulled the panties to the side and you gasped when you felt his spit coat your opening. He then plunged it into you with his tongue, thrusting it inside of you and swirling his tongue to cut your walls with his saliva.
That’s when he realized you were already clenching around him in absolute sensitivity and pleasure. He looked up at you as he slowly pulled his tongue out, watching how your eyebrows furrowed.
“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”, you flushed red from the question no matter how simple it sounded. San already knew the answer but he still wanted to hear it from you.
“Yeah, I am”, you sit up a little on your elbows, expecting the demon to stop. However, all he did was smirk and thrust his tongue back inside of you, causing your head to fall back. He swirled his tongue, searching for that certain spot inside of you that even you had never found before.
His fingers pinched and rubbed at your clit as he prepped you, causing your sweet moans to fill the room. The only thing San could think about was how badly he wanted to ruin you.
Eventually, he felt you were ready and he replaced his tongue with his fingers, scissoring you open. Then, he hit it. That special spot deep inside of you with his middle finger.
“Right there! Please”, you had never felt so good and your back arched as San kept hitting that spot with his fingers over and over like clock work.
You clenched around his fingers and he kept his pace steady as you came all over his fingers, coating them with your juices. He had you ride out your high and watched as you shook from the stimulation, barely holding onto his humanity.
He took his fingers out and you whined, feeling so hopelessly empty without them there. San licked one of his fingers, humming from how sweet you tasted. Then, he had another finger in front of your mouth.
You opened your mouth and he put the digit inside, your lips closing around it as you sucked on it to taste yourself. You did taste perfectly sweet.
“Sorry sweetheart, I can’t wait any longer”, you gulped when you saw something inside the demon snap. His hands quickly pulled his belt off and he tied your wrists together with them, attached to the bedpost.
You were too in awe from the sight of his cock to even care about the rough leather rubbing against your skin, his tip red and angry, coated in pre-cum. You wondered how it would even fit.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be just fine”, before you could even wonder what he meant by that, his lips were on your’s as he lined himself up with your pussy. He slowly pushed in and you began to fill the pain until... you didn’t anymore.
It was as if the kiss was enough to blur your nerves and, before you knew it, San was all the way inside of you. The sight of his bulge was prominent in your stomach and, when he pulled away from the kiss, you could feel the tip brush against your cervix.
Your feelings rushed back in and you felt the stretch but it was no longer painful, your cunt used to being stuffed now. As he realized you were fine, San slowly started moving, groaning as your walls hugged his dick. You were so small in comparison to him and it felt perfect. You felt perfect.
Restraint inside of the demon slowly disappeared as he pounded into you, his hips snapping against your’s. His hand wrapped tightly around your throat when you got louder, squeezing it to cut off the air going to your lungs a little. Your eyes rolled back from all the pleasure and stimulation.
“Such a pretty whore. You feel so good”, San chuckled darkly, licking his lips as he looked down at you. Your breasts bounced from the force and he watched them, almost mesmerized by the movement as his tip continuously rammed into your g-spot.
You winced when San slapped you, a red hand imprinted on your skin. The sting only seemed to add to the pleasure and he noticed, deciding to slap your clit just as hard.
“Fuck! San!”, your breathing got caught in your throat as he continued to slap it, hitting the nerve over and over to watch your reaction. You clenched around him again as you began to feel overstimulated, the knot in your stomach releasing all over his cock.
San followed soon after, filling you up so much that you could see the bulge stay in your stomach even when he had pulled out. Your heavy breathing was all you were able to let out as San undid the belt.
You expected for it to be over but the demon simply gripped your hips and spread your legs to straddle his lap. You could feel his hard cock rubbing against your pussy lips and a rush of arousal went to your core again, his cum covering your thighs as it leaked out of you.
“It’s not over baby. I wanted to really look at you when I mark you”, your eyes went a little wide when San moved your hips to grind against his erection.
“Mark? What does that mean?”, San just shushed you and gave you his mischievous smile.
“You’ll see”, you were too needy to even care as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, feeling for the first time how it truly stretched you out. San gripped the back of your head and pressed his forehead against your’s in an attempt to distract you from any pain.
“Ride me and you’ll be all mine”, his words made you roll your hips faster even if you already knew you were putty in his hands. You were already his and have been. He made sure of that.
Soon, you began to get tired and San smiled, gripping your hips to keep you moving. He didn’t seem angry but you could tell his impatience was coming through.
“Useless whore. You can’t even ride a dick properly”, you looked down in embarrassment from his words. It was the only time you enjoyed not having control, when San had it.
The demon took control and thrusted up into you, controlling your movements to meet his own. The new position made your mouth hang open in a silent scream, your body too overwhelmed with pleasure to even let out sounds.
Even without words, San knew you were close with how your nails dug into his shoulders and your little cunt clenched around him. As you both approached your orgasms he nuzzled his face between your neck and shoulder.
You came together and he bit you, causing a scream to erupt from your body. Your body thrashed against him but he held you still as he slowly pulled his teeth out.
The bite slowly healed to reveal a distinct ‘S’ marked into your skin. San smiled and watched as the blood from the wound went down your body and stopped at the curve of your breast.
“Good girl. Finally being put to use”, the demon leaned his face down and licked up the blood from your breast to the mark on your shoulder, sending pleasant shivers up your body.
He was still buried inside of you as he maneuvered you both to lay down, spooning you to keep you warm.
“Now you’re all mine. Remember that. Or this deal may not last”, you could tell the end was meant as a threat. You belonged to San and that was that.
“I’m all your’s”, you nodded and closed your eyes, trying to calm your body.
“That’s right. Forever”.
“Even in-“, you were cut off when he pressed a kiss to the back of your head.
“Even in hell. Then it will be...”, he hummed as he thought.
“Infernal desire”.
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unholytrinitytrio · 3 years
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HAWKS with BUSTY READER  HEAD CANONS
Pairing: Hawks x Busty Reader
Warnings: If you squint your eyes it’s kinda NSFW, mentions of sexual position, over stimulation
Word count: 509
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Turns him on so much whenever he sees you wear one those sweetheart neckline shirts and one of his love marks peeks through. It makes him think that you are proudly displaying him as your lover
Let's face it he's got that domestic kink so he'll hint to you once in a while to wear an apron with nothing underneath it. He thinks he's subtle about it, but really, he's not.
"So, you know there's this male fantasy with aprons and all and it just so happens I brought one on sale, you can have it I guess. No pressure"
" Hawks that's sweet and all, but don't you think it's a bit too flashy and frilly to be practical?"
"Hahahaha is it?"
"Also you forgot to remove the sizing paper notes for whoever you beg to tailor these to fit me"
"...."
"Please just this once?"
In the event that you did entertain his request please be ready to get wreaked while trying to keep the apron on as long as possible. As I said before some of his turn on includes anything to do with domestic play, over stimulation that involves you and did I mention anything that involves you?
On rare occasions he'll let himself overstim just as long as you're also stringing along with him.
"Hawks...break...please" you wheeze out, hands clutching his shoulder trying to push him out and off of you. The apron barely hanging on your shoulder, front cloth plastered on your chest with one breast hanging out already, trying to crawl yourself away from Hawks while he held unto your ankles to pull you back to him again groaning.
"Once more, just once more I promise" he lied
It's already canon that Hawk's feathers can definitely feel stuffs to an extent, so you can bet that he'll make you wear one of his feathers as a necklace accessories. Bonus point if reader is a bit on the slow side and doesn't know that Hawks is quite the sleazy type and uses the feeling of his feather being squished by your breast as a jerk off material
During the deed he seldomly chooses being on the bottom often opting to top you in a mating press position or the classical missionary position. He reasons it's because the positions cramps his wings after, but really he just wanted to see your breasts squished in between your legs held up by him.
When he does make you ride him, you can bet he'll keep one hand clutching you breast the other on your waist making sure you'll keep those melons bouncing for his pleasure.
Is definitely a lover of breast and would more often than not give them kisses and the occasional love marks not much of a breast biter. It arouses him more when he sees your face contort in pleasure rather than in pain.
Such a nasty one he is; when he finishes after you beg him not to cum inside you he'll cum on your breast instead, spreading it making you wince in slight disgust.
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Recovery? (Adrenaline Junkie Part 5)
Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Warnings: PTSD, sleep paralysis, hallucinations, swearing, mentions of death/injury, depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation (marked so you can skip if it’s a major trigger for you), self harm (also marked), phantom pain syndrome
Word count: 3,722
Disclaimer: I have not experienced PTSD, sleep paralysis, hallucinations, or phantom pain syndrome, so I’m sorry if they aren’t portrayed correctly 
When a wild bird can’t fly, it’s defenseless. It feels trapped even if it can still walk away. It feels alone even if it’s surrounded by other birds. If a bird loses the ability to fly, a piece of it is missing. A piece of itself. Something that it values as something unique to it and only it. It loses most mental stimulation and becomes numb until it can feel freedom again.
It’s been about two months since you respawned and you honestly felt so restless. You wanted to fly through the sky again, feeling the air move freely between your feathers. You wanted to weave in and out of the clouds. You wanted to feel something other than fear. When you’re not scared, you don't feel anything. You missed skydiving. You wanted, no, you craved the feeling of adrenaline flowing along every little nook and cranny in your cardiovascular system.
You found out that you get flashbacks whenever you see someone or something hulky and covered in a dark green color. You still haven’t told your family about this, you thought that it was something silly to be afraid of. You tried your hardest to avoid Philza the most; he always wore his favorite color with pride. You still haven’t apologized for screaming death threats at him when you were going through an episode.
You only had one other major hallucinogenic episode since the first one, but it wasn’t as bad as the first one.
You woke up in the middle of the night with the moonlight beaming through your window illuminating the silhouette of The Warden standing in the corner of your room. You willed yourself to open your mouth to scream for your brothers, but you couldn’t move. You could only watch it. 
The telltale glowing drool fell from the corners of its wide mouth, mixing with the blood dripping off from its long claws. Its chest rhythmically glowed as the things writhing in it managed to squeeze through the small gaps between the bony confines of its ribs. The white wisps flew around your room freely, bouncing off your walls with thuds and eventually settling to float in front of your face.
You watched with wide eyes as their permanently gaping mouths struggled to form words. Somehow, you could see desperation in their empty eye sockets. A flurry of whispers met your ears, but you couldn’t make out anything they were saying. It was too jumbled. 
You heard The Warden slowly drag its feet along your carpet over to your bed. The wisps started to thrash about and scream as it reached out and scooped them all up easily with a single swipe of a hand. It shoved them into its mouth and they reappeared behind the confines of its ribcage, the screaming getting louder and more distorted as they got swallowed. Multiple voices were shrieking with agony and anguish as The Warden turned its attention towards you. It bent over and hovered its face over yours as its drool and drops of blood started to drip onto your cheeks. You felt its rancid breath fan over you. It had hints of iron and rot.
Your mind was screaming at your body to move away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have control anymore. Your breathing picked up as you felt your heart beat out of your chest. It just hovered over you doing nothing, like it was enjoying seeing your fearful eyes. Like it enjoyed the feeling of having complete power over you.
Your breath caught in your throat as it got closer to you, its mouth getting dangerously close to engulfing your entire head. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried with all your might to move any part of your body. After a while, your head slightly moved to the side. Gradually, you worked your way up to moving your head fully to the side. You felt all your muscles activate at once as you shot up from your bed with a strangled gasp. 
You frantically flattened your body against the wall, reaching a shaking hand between the wall and mattress to grab the iron dagger you hid there. Holding it defensively in front of you, you scanned the room. There was not a single thing out of place. Everything was just as you left it before you went to bed.
You covered your mouth as sobs threatened to burst from your chest like the wisps in The Warden’s. You brought your knees up to your chest and buried your head in them. You didn’t sleep for a few days after that.
Other than the major episodes, your imagination placed The Warden everywhere you looked. You saw The Warden whenever Philza walked past you. You saw glimpses of it whenever you looked into the woods at night. You saw it behind you in the mirror reaching for your other wing. Sometimes, you thought you could hear the screams of the wisps in the distance.
Your entire family was constantly hovering over you; you always had at least one of the boys with you at all times. They wouldn’t let you out of the house. 
Out of all of your family, Wilbur was probably the lesser of the evils. He didn’t judge you or question you, he just let you do your own thing. He would softly pluck the strings on his guitar and sing to you while you would lay on his bed. Those moments were one of the only moments where you would fully let your guard down and relax. 
Hangouts with Techno were also pleasant, but he hasn’t looked you in the eyes since he helped you during your first episode. That was the only downside to it though; he would give you some of his mythology books to read or read them to you. His voice always soothed you as a kid. Sometimes, he would give you a hug when he saw that it was a rough day for you.
Tommy’s hang outs were kept to a minimal, the family didn’t trust him much because they thought his rambunctious and extrovert personality would overwhelm you. You were alone with him only twice out of the last two months. Usually, you both would lay on his bed and just talk about his life with the jukebox running softly in the background playing the discs that you and Philza gifted him during his first birthday with the family. He tried to get you to open up to him, but you always deflected. He shouldn’t know how fucked up you were, you vowed to protect him when Philza first brought him home. You would always protect your little brother, even if it was from yourself.
Before the incident, you would’ve killed to get more alone time with your father. But now, you tried to avoid Philza at all costs. You couldn’t help but see The Warden whenever you saw his tall form, green clothes, and large wings. When you had to hang out with him however, you wouldn’t look at him. You two would usually go to chop down trees or cook dinner together. 
You felt incredibly guilty that you still haven’t apologized to him for everything you’ve put him through. Whenever you brought yourself to glance at him, he was always looking at you heartbroken. You knew that the outcomes of your first death gave the entire family some form of trauma, but you saw that it hit your dad harder than the others. You did threaten to kill him in graphic ways and you did hit him in your panicked stupor. You really needed to apologize for that. You probably should tell him about your silly little fear of green. You were going to wait until he was in his pajamas to apologize; they usually didn’t have much green.
You loved your family of course, but you were always the type of person to require some alone time to function, even before the incident. You felt incredibly drained physically, mentally, and emotionally. It took you a tremendous amount of effort to get out of bed in the mornings. You didn’t see any meaning in life anymore. Everything was gray and the only thing you actually felt was fear, so you didn’t see any point in getting up. The only reason you left your bed was because your brothers would coax you out. Everyday was monotonous. 
*************************SUICIDAL IDEATION/SELF HARM*****************************
Your mind was always coming up with intrusive thoughts about killing yourself. When you did the dishes, you always imagined yourself gliding blades vertically along your wrists and just letting the blood pool out and mix with the dishwater. When you cooked breakfast, you would imagine placing your hand inside the burning flame of the stove. When you were staring out of the window at night looking for The Warden, you would imagine yourself disappearing into the woods to look for a creeper to blow you up. When you passed the potion chest, you imagined chugging poison so you could feel something before you died. Whenever you used an ore during crafting, you always thought about going back to the cave so you could be put out of your misery again. It did a damn good job at killing you the first time. Who knows, maybe The Warden would be merciful this time. The most common thought was finding a tall cliff or mountain and jumping off to finally feel the wind between your feathers and the adrenaline running through you for the last time. You daydreamed about that last one a lot.
The little scrapes you got on the little tasks given to you by your family gave you a smidge of pain. A smidge of feeling other than numbness or suffocating fear. So, in a desparate attempt to feel something, you started to cut yourself You have a dagger hidden in your room that your family didn’t know about and you constantly wore a long sleeved cloak to hide your wing so you could easily hide the cuts. It would give you some light in the dark abyss that was your current mental state. 
Sometimes, you would make small cuts on your wrists and thighs when everything was too overwhelming, but the relief it gave you wouldn’t last throughout the day. You were scared to cut deeper. You didn’t want to deal with infection or smuggling healing potions underneath your family’s noses. You would probably get caught and they’d take away the very little freedom and control you had in your life.
**********************SUICIDAL IDEATION/SELF HARM OVER*************************
You grunted in discomfort as you chopped some wood with Philza behind your house. It was a bad day for the phantom pains in your absent wing, you felt shooting pain and itchiness along where it was supposed to be all day long. You heard him pause his actions and walk over to you. When he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, you squeezed your eyes shut as you remembered the way he grabbed you the day you respawned.
“Are you alright hun?”
Shrugging off his hand, you continued to chop lumber. “I’m fine Dad.”
“Are you sure? You looked like you were in pain.”
You sighed, “It’s… it’s just a bad day for the pain.”
“Where does it hurt? I can go grab you a potion.” 
He sounded like he always did when he talked to you, concerned. You wanted to be treated like a normal person again. You didn’t like it when your family walked on eggshells around you constantly, it made you feel like a stranger in your own home.
“My right wing hurts. And potions don’t help, I’ve tried that. There’s nothing you can do.”
He paused for a second. You imagined him furrowing his brows and tilting his head lightly to the side as he contemplated what you said. It was the first time you opened up to him about anything. “...Your wing still feels things?”
You grunted as you swung the axe down onto the log, “Yeah, it feels things sometimes. It’s mostly a shooting pain or an itching sensation where I don’t have a wing. There’s nothing I can do about it, so I’m learning to live with it.”
“How long has this been happening?”
Your mind flashed back to the conversation you two had a year ago. “Since I lost it.”
“Why don’t we turn in for the night? The sun is starting to set and we’ve got enough wood to last us a week.”
You silently nodded and bent over to pick up the logs you chopped. Grabbing as much as your arms could hold, you put the planks into the chest next to the back door. Turning around to grab more, you jumped back when your eyes met with Philza’s chest. His hand was outstretched towards you. You hugged your body as you looked away from him. 
“(Y/n), you’re not okay. Please just let me help you.”
“...I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine.”
“You haven’t spoken to anyone about your emotions, bottling it up isn’t good hun.”
“That’s because I don’t have anything to talk about.”
He sighed, “Why don’t we get your brothers to cook dinner so we can have a little chat. Meet me in your room.”
Wordlessly, you walked back into the house and straight up to your room. Sitting on the bed, you put your head in your hands as you waited for the inevitable vulnerability. After a couple of minutes, you heard a gentle knock on your door. It opened to reveal your dad smiling at you.
Glancing back at your hands, you slipped your hand under the sleeve of your cloak to pinch the skin so you could try to ignore him when he walked over to sit next to you. You turned your head away from him. 
You felt the mattress shift under his weight when he sat next to you. You felt his breath tickle the top of your head as he spoke to you, “please, talk to me.”
“I’ve already told you, there’s nothing to talk about Dad.”
“...You’ve been seeing The Warden whenever you look at me, haven’t you?” He sounded so broken. It must be hard to have your own child avoid you because you reminded them of their murderer. 
You were quiet for a few moments while you battled against the tears that threatened to leak from your eyes. Swallowing thickly, you shakily said, “I’m sorry Dad, I’m so sorry. I-I see it when I see you. I see it everywhere.”
“Hey,” he gently said, “it’s alright. Nothing’s your fault, you can’t control it. Is there anything… specific that reminds you of it?”
“...Yeah, I see it vividly when I see something tall and… and dark green. I can’t help but to see it when I see you.”
He felt his heart sink. He always wore green, no matter the day. He was basically torturing his child just by being around them. God, what kind of father was he if he didn’t realize that sooner? He felt like a failure. 
You spewed reassurances at him when you heard his breath hitch. “Dad, it’s not your fault, you didn’t know about it. It’s just a stupid fear and it’s my fault for not getting over it. I-I’ll do better. I can-”
“Stop. Nothing is your fault and it’s certainly not stupid. You’re traumatized, (y/n), you’re traumatized and it’s nobody’s fault except The Warden’s,” it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “Would you feel more comfortable if I changed clothes?”
“You- you don’t have to. I don’t want you to change anything because of me.”
“(Y/n), I’m your father. I’ll do anything if it means you feel better, I want to help you get better. Changing what I wear isn’t a big deal. I’ll be right back.”
“You really don’t have to, Dad.”
“Nonsense, I’m going to go change. It’s really not a big deal.”
He stood up and speed walked out your door. You felt awful, he was changing because of you. Because you were scared of a fucking color. You needed to get a grip. You were weak. 
The door opened again to reveal Philza dressed in an old white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. His wardrobe was very limited when it came to colors other than green; it was strange seeing him in anything but green. You felt a little more at ease around him, but you still couldn’t look him in the eye. You still felt guilty.
Sitting next to you again, he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “It’s been a while since I’ve worn these, I uh forgot how comfy they are.”
You two sat in an awkward silence. It was obvious that he was lying to you about liking them. He was shifting his wings around uncomfortably and shifting on the mattress. With wings, it was hard to find fabric that didn’t irritate the base of the wing. The base of the wings were more sensitive than any other body part.
“You’re lying.”
“Lying? About what hun?”
“About being comfortable. They’re irritating your wings aren’t they? This is why you shouldn’t change anything about yourself for me, I just screw things up for everyone.”
“No you don’t-”
“Yes I do, Dad. Let’s be honest here, I’m a complete fuck up. I mess up everything I’m near. I messed up the family. Everything’s different because of me.”
He moved to kneel in front of you, placing both his hands firmly on your shoulders.
“Look at me, (y/n).”
When you didn’t make any move to look up from your tightly clasped hands, he gingerly moved your chin up and put his hand back on your shoulder. His face was stern and his blue eyes were blazing. Oh god, you really fucked up didn’t you? You knew you shouldn’t have told him anything.
“You are not a fuck up. Do you hear me? You. Are. Not. A. Fuck up.”
“But-”
“Ah,” he sharply chided, “I’m not done. You aren’t a fuck up. You couldn’t control what happened to you. You didn’t know that you’d die when you went into that cave. You didn’t know that you’d lose a limb. You didn’t mess up the family, you could never, ever, do that… (Y/n), change was bound to happen sooner or later. Everything changes, that’s just how life works. Even if we didn’t want change, it’s inevitable.”
He could tell from your bloodshot eyes and wobbling chin that you were about to cry, it was always your tell as a child. In that instance, he saw you as the kid that came running to him after you scraped your knee. An innocent kid that always saw the good in the world. He pulled you into his chest and gently wrapped his wings around you, humming the song he would sing to you when you had a nightmare as a child.
“It’s alright, hun, let it out.”
You finally broke, throwing your arms around him and sobbing into his chest. Your body shook with muffled sobs as you released all the pent up emotion you’ve been deprived of in the last two months. It felt nice to talk to your dad again, to be close to him again. For the first time in two months, you felt completely safe. Your dad will always protect you. 
“It’s been so hard Dad,” you blubbered out. “I don’t know what to do. I’m broken, Dad. I can’t be fixed. I feel so empty.”
“Hun, no. You can be fixed, it just takes time. We’re here for you. Me, Technoblade, Wilbur, and Tommy. We’re always going to be here for you no matter what. We’ll help you.”
You fell silent as your body convulsed with silent sobs. You two sat there for what seemed like hours before you finally ran out of tears. You pulled back from him and wiped at your snotty nose.
“I never apologized for what I said to you two months ago. I-I shouldn’t have said any of those things. It hurt you in ways that I’ll probably never understand, and… I’m sorry Dad.”
“(Y/n), you don’t have to apologize. You were scared and you were trying to protect your brothers. That was really brave of you to do, I’m proud of you.”
You threw yourself at him again in a tight, one-winged hug. He chuckled as he hugged you back.
“…Thank you Dad, for everything.”
“Anything for you,” he glanced at the clock you made on your wall. “It’s almost dinner time, let’s go see if your brothers burnt down the kitchen.”
You genuinely smiled at that, remembering the last time your brother cooked together. It was a couple of years ago when you and Philza were coming back from visiting a nearby village. Philza thought it was a spectacular idea to give your brothers the task of cooking dinner. That day, you two came home to a fire engulfing the entire stove and your brothers arguing about whose fault it was. Since then, they weren’t allowed to cook together.
“That’s a good idea, remember the last time they cooked together?”
He chuckled. “Don’t remind me, I nearly pulled out all my feathers cuz of the stress it gave me. I think it even gave me a few gray hairs.”
You snorted. “Well, they’re quiet. Too quiet. We need to go down there before they burn down the house.”
He kissed your hair before you stood up and started to walk to the kitchen. He followed suit, throwing an arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side. Surprisingly, they didn’t burn down the kitchen. Instead, they actually cooked dinner well. Some of it was burnt, but to their credit, they hadn’t cooked together in a while.
At the dinner table, you felt like you were part of the family again. You laughed with your brothers when Philza scolded them for something they said. You felt like there was a giant weight lifted off from your shoulders. Of course, you were still traumatized and had other issues you had to work out, but now you knew you had your family to help you through it. You wouldn’t ask for anything different.
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Text
Tame the Beast
"But there’s something off when Raine comes inside tonight. The first thing they notice after closing the door behind them is something glowing, which they recognize to be a bottle of Eda’s elixir on the bedside table, completely full. And then there is a growl."
or
Raine meets the owl beast.
Read it on AO3 Here:https://archiveofourown.org/works/34020355
There’s always something strange going on at the owl house these days.
Hooty loves chattering everybody’s ears off and he is often swallowing up or breaking things he shouldn’t, Luz and King’s comedy hour somehow turned into Luz and King and Hunter’s prank each other hour somewhere along the way, and more often than not it is Raine and Eda who become their victims. You could say that not even at night the house is fully asleep, and so the constant noises, weird ones at that, are the norm.
Which is why Raine didn’t even flinch when they came up at the door of what now is their shared bedroom with Eda late at night and heard what sounded more like a monster snoring. Eda surely has always sounded like one when asleep.
But there’s something off when Raine comes inside tonight. The first thing they notice after closing the door behind them is something glowing, which they recognize to be a bottle of Eda’s elixir on the bedside table, completely full.
And then there is a growl.
When they look up, what stares at them is not the is not the playful glint of Eda’s beautiful golden eyes; but the void, pitch black of the owl beast’s angry gaze.
Raine startles so that their knees give out under them. They stumble backwards and fall on their butt, their back hitting the wooden door. The beast steps out of the nest, not at all happy at being taken out of its slumber, and slowly creeps towards them, head hang low and teeth bared.
Raine just stays where they are, shaking and paralyzed in fear at the sight of those huge sharp claws that could easily tear them apart. They feel a lump forming in their throat as they remember holding a crying, desperate Eda, after she accidentally hurt her father with those same claws. “It was to protect you!” is how she justified closing off, lying and pushing them away all those years ago. “I was terrified of what the beast would do to you if I ever lost control!” Even though it still hurts that Eda wasn’t able to trust them, Raine definitely understands what she was so scared of now.
Last they say it, when Eda was first cursed, the owl beast was different, smaller, and its mane was fiery gold like her hair. As the beast comes into their personal space, Raine shrinks into themself, whimpering “You’re a lot bigger than I what I remembered.”. The creature comes to a halt in front of them, and Raine closes their eyes and braces themself for a hit that never comes.
After a few seconds, when all they feel is the owl beast’s hot breath on their face, they open their eyes, and to their surprise, the beast doesn’t look angry anymore. It steps carefully around Raine, almost tiptoeing, and starts sniffing at them. “What are you doing?” they ask, mildly amused, even though they know it won’t answer, being too busy sniffing at their neck, their hair, their clothes and whatever it can finds. “Do you like my new cologne or something? That’d make sense, Eda likes it too.” They joke.
The beast reaches a particular sensitive spot at the back of their ear, and Raine lets out a high-pitched squeal. It startles for a second, but something left of Raine’s face seems to have attracted its attention. Raine sits perfectly still as the beast comes really close again. First there’s only the tickling sensation of its mane nuzzling their cheek, and its really stinking breath filling Raine’s nostrils, but suddenly there’s a painful tug at their ear “Ah! No! no, no, no! Don’t do that!” they yell and put their hands up, trying to move the beast’s face away from their own so it stops tugging at their earing. “Okay, okay, I’ll get it, I’ll get it for you, stop that!”
Owl beast Eda huffs, looking mildly offended at Raine’s resistance. They sigh, carefully removing the little piece of metal from their ear, and offer it to the owl beast with an outstretched hand. “Here. Is this what you wanted?” The beast cocks its head and gazes adoringly at the small shiny offering. It gently picks up the earing from Raine’s hand in its mouth and takes the treasure to its nest, along all the others, for safekeeping.
Now that the adrenalin is over and the beast is busy with its new toy, Raine takes a moment to really look at it.
The owl beast overall resembles a lot a gryphon, but half owl instead of the more common half eagle. Even though it is, unarguably, a beast, Raine can recognizes little bits of Eda in its face, in the silver of its mane, in how the ear tuffs frame its head just like Eda’s loose hair strands fall around her face. Its wings, even folded, are obviously very large, to be able to lift such a big creature into the air, (though Raine guesses the sheer amount of fur and feathers makes it look even bigger than it really is). Its appearance is very strong and brutish, but it walks and moves around with what Raine can only describe as cat like grace.
And to be fully honest, the way she looked at the earing and nuzzled Raine with such care was pretty adorable.
The beast finishes stashing its treasure and once again walks towards Raine, who gives it a confused look, right before being scooped by the back of their collar and taken to the nest, where they are very gently placed down. It takes them a few seconds to process what just happen, by the end of which she has already laid down and made herself comfortable, surrounding Raine with its strong paws.
The beast just cocks its head and quietly stares at Raine, as if trying to communicate something with its eyes alone. Against their better judgment, Raine outstretches their hands, and without hesitation, she butts its head against it, leaning into the warm touch of their hand. The silver fur is surprisingly soft against their skin, and just under their fingertips, Raine feels a slight vibration and realizes that she is purring. Loudly.
“Heh, you’re just a really big cat, aren’t you?” they whisper, voice filled with endearment, and slowly stroke the creature’s mane. “I would have never guessed.” The beast leans even further into Raine’s touch, who now has a lapfull of owl beast, and in turn, Raine nuzzles against the beast’s fur. It feels weirdly comfortable.
What a contrast this is to the tales Raine’s heard of the wild witch of Bonesborough, who, when angered or startled, would turn into a giant owl like violent and bloodthirsty monster who hurt countless citizens in its moments of rampage. Raine counts themselves lucky that the beast didn’t immediately pounce them; but then again, Eda said she had made a truce with the owl beast and that they both even talked sometimes. Raine guesses that, since they are Eda’s spouse, the beast must have recognized them as their mate. How cute.
After a while just sitting there, Eda looks a little tired, and Raine wonders how she would feel about a little lullaby. They draw a spell circle in air and summon their violin; and the creature’s eyes, which were half lidded, are now wide open and gazing at them with curiosity. The beast coos at the slow, sweet melody that comes out, its feathers puffing out in contentment. Raine can feel the beast’s loud purring against their back, just in time with the vibration of the strings. At one point in the middle of the song, the beast pulls back a little, just enough to nuzzle Raine’s cheek with its nose and lick them, and Raine’s heart soars. “Feels like sandpaper” they say, chuckling at the ticklish feeling the beast’s tongue left behind.
Raine keeps playing until they feel Eda’s body limping out with sleep. They dematerialize the violin and try to find themselves a comfortable position against her huge fluffy body. They lean against her mane, cradled between one paw and her face, surrounded by her warmth and comforted by the sound of her heartbeat and her steady breathing. Raine’s pretty sure tomorrow they will wake up with the worst back and shoulder pain ever, but tonight is the most comfortable they have been in a long while, the most safe and sound they have slept in their whole life.
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