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litfeathers · 1 year

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Before Hunter's Palisman Observations... Before Lilith's Letter... Before Luz's Diary Entry...

A witch's quill scratches on paper, her eyebrows furrowing in thought as she fills a well-worn book with her thoughts and desires and fears.

She smiles at the yellow bird who is fast asleep on her extra pillow, and with a snap of her fingers extinguishes the light spells that had been illuminating her cozy bedroom.

She sleeps.

She dreams…

She dreams of a strange world. A world without magic. A harsh world of rules, and penance, and fear.

A man stands in front of a bonfire, the glow of the firelight dancing on his wild blond hair. He is surrounded by a screaming crowd, torches and pitchforks and fists waving in the air.

"No," she begs. "No, no, no, no."

She calls his name over the cacophony of violent chanting, her voice muffled by the roar of the growing conflagration.

He turns.

She screams.

Blood. Smoke. Fire. The flash of a knife. It all happens too fast.

He is gone.

...and she wakes up.

Welcome to Evelyn's Journal.

Credits: -The phenomenal cover art was drawn by the absolute legend @bananadramaaa. Thank you so much for your help! -The script and Evelyn's voice were written and recorded by Birdie (that's me!) -It's probably pretty obvious, but this project was directly inspired by the audio recordings a few of TOH's VAs did for one of Dana's charity livestreams. Look them up if you have never heard them. They are fantastic!

The audio and script will also be available at AO3 on (or some time after) Sunday, March 26th. You may find it at litfeathers if you would like to give this project some love over there too!

The complete script can be found under the read more, so you may follow along if you wish.

Grab a snack and get comfy. We have an almost 15 minute runtime! Enjoy! 🔥🪶

Scaburary 10th

I had to cover for Bileadona at work. She never showed up for her shift, and so Goldie and I were forced to make an unexpected trip to Bonesborough.

Extra disappointing, since I was planning to spend the afternoon in the garden with my sketchbook. I wanted to redo my blue jay drawing, as I am not quite satisfied with it.

Ah, well. I’ll draw in the garden tomorrow.

Scaburary 11th

UUUGHHH DAMN RAIN!

Goldie has been moping and staring out the window at the sizzling forest all morning, desperately wishing she could have her early morning flight through the trees. I have given her a handful of seeds to help her feel better. She seems pouty still, but has cheered up slightly. She is currently ordering the seeds from most to least appealing. Heh. This should take her a while.

Only two days are left!

Scaburary 13th

Work, work, work. I couldn’t stop watching the sunlight and shadows slowly move across the library floor and sighing impatiently. Bileadona happened by my cart as I was shelving books, and asked why the calendar at my desk is so strange. I told her it was an old-fashioned solar calendar from the bloodievil period. She didn’t seem to buy it, but didn’t push the subject.

I also made a quick…detour before I went home. Just to say hello to some dear friends. Some very special friends who are going to severely regret their actions from last week.

*evil witch cackle*

As an added bonus, I finally managed to nab one of their…creative drawings of me. It is now proudly displayed on my living room wall, just above the couch. Truly, it is a work of art, and I am humbled by their kindness.

I just hope they find my return offering just as humbling ehehehehe.

I have been getting more and more excited for every visit to the Human Realm. Not that I have been there recently. I most definitely have not. Don’t be absurd.

But anyway. This week has dragged endlessly! I cannot wait for tomorrow.

It’s nice to have a friend.

Scaburary 14th, Human Realm year 1623

Today was nice.

It was a Friday in Human reckoning, so Caleb and I enjoyed the usual supper on a blanket in the snowy woods. I made sure to include dragon bacon sandwiches and deviled griffin stew in the spread, as they are his favorites. And of course, a thermos of hot apple blood to warm us up. It was a marvelous feast!

He looks a bit better lately. His skin is less pale, and the shadows under his eyes are less prominent.

The moment I landed at at our spot, Caleb immediately asked me if I had anything to do with the recent vandalism of the Gravesfield meetinghouse. I plead innocent. He grimly informed me that someone had scribbled all over the siding, and that one of the drawings bore a striking resemblance to Goldie. I expressed my deepest sympathies for the poor soul who would have to clean it up. He further informed me that the words “Evie was here” were scrawled over the front door. I told him that since my given name isn’t Evie, it’s Evelyn, he was clearly looking for another culprit. He grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me dead in the eye, and told me, in the most fed-up of tones, that the drawings could move.

“Huh,” I said. “In that case, it sounds like you might have a witch on your hands. I hear they are pretty tricky to deal with, but seeing as you are such an expert witch hunter, you surely won’t have a problem rooting her out!”

At that he made such a ridiculously frustrated face, I could no longer hold in my laughter. It was the look he gets where his cheeks flush and his nose flares. The red even reached his ears this time! Fantastic.

He gave up at that point. He just sighed deeply and shook his head. But I could tell he was desperately trying to hold back a smile.

While we enjoyed our meal, we got on the topic of weather. After my previous deception, he didn’t quite believe me when I told him that rain boils in the Demon Realm. When I cast an illusion to show him a typical Boiling Isles thunderstorm, his eyes lit up brighter than the sun. As fun as it is to tease and banter with him, I think I vastly prefer those quiet moments between us. When the storm clouds lift from his eyes.

*trails off*

I can tell he’s lonely.

Last week, while we were on our owl watch, he mentioned offhandedly that he hasn’t received a proper hug in years.

I was about to feign ignorance and pretend to not know what a hug is, until I realized that…err. Well, we are two galdorpeas in a pod in that regard, aren’t we?

And no, I did not offer myself up. Because some walls are built for a reason.

Caleb is surrounded by pitchforks and torches and prying eyes.

His village is dangerous.

His brother has been asking more and more…questions.

I know I shouldn’t keep doing this. I know I can’t keep doing this. There is a line, and I am terrified that I am gleefully dancing towards it, and one day I am going to be unable to stop myself from crossing into something…

*deep sigh*

…something I cannot come back from.

I am unwilling to admit this anywhere but here. And this is difficult to write, even if my eyes are the only ones that will ever read it. But…

He scares me.

Hah! How silly is that? We’re the closest of friends. I am a powerful adult witch. And I am scared of him?

It makes no sense. Witch hunter my butt! I trust him completely. He is kind. Sweet, even. No matter how much sass and grumpiness he sprinkles into his words, it is abundantly clear that his heart is made of pure gold. His smile could melt snow. His soft words could tame the wildest slitherbeast. His laugh is pure music.

*embarrassed cough*

So, then. Why the fear? Why have I been finding myself so on edge around him lately? It’s incredibly frustrating.

Words are difficult to get out. My pulse quickens when he sits too close. I can no longer look him in the eye without my face heating up. What else could cause this but fear? It is clearly my body warning me that what I am doing is incredibly foolish.

Or perhaps it’s just the apple blood.

*sighs in frustration, then there is a long moment of silence*

No. I’m not that naive. I know it’s not the apple blood. It’s just that…I’m…

I’m not ready.

I don’t have much more I would like to say on this topic, so I suppose I shall end this entry and tuck myself into bed with a good book. Perhaps Goldie would like for me to read her another story.

Here��s hoping for some nice dreams. Titan willing.

Goodnight.

Scaburary 15th

I had the day off from work. I tried to draw in the garden, but my redo of the blue jay sketch came out even worse than the original. I ended up spending most of my day on the couch, half paying attention to a book I could barely focus on enough to read.

I had dreams last night. Dreams I absolutely refuse to relive by writing them down.

Please. Please, please, please let tonight be better.

Scaburary 16th

Oh, Titan. I hate this.

I have made a decision. A decision I am absolutely miserable to be making.

It’s something I can absolutely not back out on. Something I should have done ages ago.

Something I should have done before I got…attached.

No matter what, this will end in pain. But it must end. Before he is harmed. Or worse. I know what I must do. But it hurts. I have to protect him. This week will be rough. Please wish me luck and courage.

Scaburary 17th My chest hurts. My eyes are sore. Everyone has been giving me space at work. I am sure they can tell something is very wrong, but no one has pried. At least I managed to keep it together until I was halfway home. Be proud of my fortitude.

After I was done being sorry for myself, I got an idea. I am unsure if I will be able to follow through with my plan. But if I can find my courage, perhaps I can at least try.

When we say our goodbyes, I can at least ensure Caleb still has a friend.

I haven’t carved a palisman in years. Not since I made Goldie with Mother and Father. And not since they…

*chokes up for a second*

I don’t even know if I remember how. But there is a grove of healthy palistrom trees in the backyard. And I still have my knife.

I even know what he would want.

Fine. Tomorrow I will start carving.

Scaburary 18th I opened my journal to write, but I have nothing substantial to say. This week has been miserable. I wish it were Friday so I could get this over with. Goldie keeps offering me seeds to cheer me up. I’m sorry, Goldie. I appreciate the gesture, but not everything can be fixed with a tasty seed.

Scaburary 19th I sent Goldie to deliver my final rebus message. I got such an excited response back, I nearly lost it again. He has heard a saw-whet owl in the woods by the fields. He wants to take me out there to listen for it. Sounds lovely. I suppose it’s nice to look forward to one last owl watch. What should I do with the remaining Titan’s blood? Dispose of it? Donate it to a researcher? All I know is that I cannot keep the vials. Lest I be…tempted. I’ll miss the birds. Caleb’s gift is drying on the kitchen table. I wonder what wish he will make.

Scaburary 20th I am surprisingly calm. There is something to be said for allowing yourself to…feel. To let your emotions exist, acknowledge them, let them out. That isn’t typically how I operate, but perhaps it can be advantageous to…sometimes…occasionally…not bury everything? As much as I hate to admit it. I was even able to laugh at Goldie’s antics. She brought home a rattle worm and pretended to feed it to our new scarlet friend. She even feigned offense when he refused her gift by remaining silent and wooden. Silly bird! I don’t know what I would ever do without her. I think I will be fine. Once the dust settles. We will all be fine.

Scaburary 22nd I do not know where to start. It is late evening. I am sitting here in bed, journal in lap, as usual. But Goldie is perched on my shoulder instead of her usual spot on my extra pillow. Because my extra pillow is occupied. It is occupied by a blond human and a small red bird. Oh. He just reached out in his sleep to hug my waist. I suppose I’m trapped now. I’ve never been so happy. I’ve never been so happy, and yet so anxious? I can’t stop smiling. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling or swooning or giggling since last night! How embarrassing. How completely and utterly embarrassing! ...Goldie, I know you are reading this. I can hear you laughing! Quit it! I think I’m still in a bit of shock-GOLDIE THIS IS PRIVATE. I haven’t quite processed any of this-I KNOW YOU CAN FEEL MY EMOTIONS AND HEAR MY THOUGHTS! I DON’T CARE! YOU’RE STILL BEING NOSY. WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE WERE BOTH SO OBVIOUS? I SAID STOP LAUGHING!!! Fine. You were right. Is that what you wished to hear? Are you happy now, you smug little feather brain? Good. Anyway. Where was I? Everything happened so…fast. The last 24 hours have been absolutely wild. And terrifying. And…intense. But I think I can finally admit something important, even if it’s only here for now. Let’s see if I can manage to actually write it. Goodness, my hand is shaking. Alright. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Here goes… *swoons a little* I’m in love. Goodnight, everyone. Sweet dreams. *snaps fingers, and light spells are extinguished* Sung: You are not alone No matter how far you have flown Together we feel we’re at home In darkness light shines in your bones *As she hums the song fades out*

#The Owl House #Evelyn Clawthorne #Wittecouple #Witteclaw #wittewife #Birdie Chirps

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ashcal99 · 9 months

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Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale VI

Chapter Six

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, violence, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn, mention of opioids

Words: 6.9k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. This one is kind of more of a filler chapter. Shit hits the wall a bit in the next chapter, hope you enjoy x

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

——————

February 4th, 2005

Jasper had stayed the night after, leaning in to what had quickly become their new normal. Their kiss had remained sweet and short, Jasper not wanting to push things too far too quickly. As much as he wanted to ease head first into Camila’s affection, he didn’t want to overwhelm her. Perhaps it was just him being old fashioned, but he refused to put her in any situation where she would have the slightest chance of feeling uncomfortable, because the last thing that he wanted to do was scare her away.

After their display of affection, the two had stayed awake until the early hours of the morning, Jasper insisting to help with her homework that she hadn’t finished due to sleeping all afternoon. As the sun arose, he had reluctantly pulled away from her hold on his hand, knowing that he would have to leave before her mother came in to wake her. The pout she had given him made it nearly impossible for him to leave, so he had settled on trying to kiss the pout away.

Despite their first kiss having only been hours beforehand, the action had felt nothing but natural. The warmth of her breath on his lips made his head spin and for a moment. He couldn’t help but question if something was wrong with him, but no. That was just the effect she had on him. She made it feel like the whole world had tilted on its axis, and it took him what felt like a full minute to decipher that it hadn’t actually done so.

The moment had been coated in thick, raw emotion, even though the whole thing had only lasted a few seconds. The gentle touch of his stone lips has sent her heart racing. She had to resist the urge to pull him back to her as he pulled away, promising to meet her as soon as she arrived at the school.

He would’ve offered to drive her if hadn’t been for the fact that he hadn’t drove there that night. It was much faster to run, and he definitely didn’t need one of her parents seeing his car parked anywhere near the house. As much as he selfishly wanted to drive her to and from the school, wanting to spend every moment possible in her presence, he didn’t want to overwhelm her. He also knew that the short drive was, at most times, the only time she had alone with her mother, and he didn’t want to take that away from either one of them.

So he had left, giving her one last short kiss before climbing back out onto the dewy grass. And he began his run back home, knowing full well that Alice would ambush him as soon as he arrived within a one mile radius.

Camila had taken the time to take a shower, deciding that she needed the feel of the hot water on her skin. Her muscles had begun to ache deeply once more, the meds having been worn off for some time. She refused to take another pill, wanting to be fully alert for her last classes before the weekend. She had a feeling she may end up regretting this choice, but her mind had remained se on her decision.

She stood there in the steam filled room, letting the searing water flow freely over her sore bruised body. Her thoughts began to wander as she sucked in deep breaths, the steam helping open her airways, slightly lifting the weight from her chest. He had initiated the kiss, did that mean it would become a normal thing for them? What did it mean for them? She wasn’t exactly keen on defining their relationship, but she couldn’t help but wonder what exactly that relationship would be labeled as.

A sudden knock on the bathroom door shook her from her thoughts. “We have to leave soon, Honey.” Her mom’s voice said, sounding from the other side of the door. Her eyes widened. How long had she been there, just letting the water run over her freshly cleaned hair? Quickly shutting the flow off, she grabbed her fresh towel from the rack, wrapping the fluffy fabric around her chest, letting it hang down to her knees.

Swinging open the cabinet door, she rushed to plug in her hairdryer, knowing that, despite the time crunch, she couldn’t go out in the cool whether with wet hair. She ran it over her head for a few minutes, her hair frizzing from the humidity before she was content with the result.

Glancing at her cell phone that she had left on the mattress, she took note that she only had a few minutes left. She moved cautiously, trying to move as quick as possible without becoming light headed. She refused to willingly give up any of her time with Jasper, so she settled with her usual baggy t-shirt, leggings, jacket, and combat boots, pulling them on quickly, before halfway stumbling out of her bedroom, bag slung over her shoulder.

Michelle gave her a soft smile, handing Camila her usual breakfast of a granola bar and protein shake. “Thanks.” She muttered, following behind the woman as they made their way to the car.

Clouds cluttered the sky, casting a dim light down on the road before them as the wound their way down the familiar street. “So.” He mother said, clearing her throat as her eyes remained on the road before her. “How are you liking the new school so far? Making many friends?” She asked. “You know, besides Jasper?” She added teasingly, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards.

Camila nodded, not able to stop the smile from spreading on her face as she continued. “Yeah, I completely forgot to tell you yesterday. Angela, a girl in my history class, invited me to go dress shopping with her and a couple other girls on Tuesday for prom.” She said, continuing as she took in the worried look on her mother’s face. “Don’t worry, I still don’t plan on going to prom.” She assured her, shoving another bite of her granola bar into her mouth, wincing slightly as she forced the dry food down her throat.

Michelle shook her head lightly. “No, it’s not that. Are you sure you’ll be up for that after being at school all day?” She said, voice coated in concern. She couldn’t help it, Camila was her baby, and she just wanted her safe.

Camila couldn’t help the sigh that left her lips. “I promise it’s okay, Mom. We’ll only be out for a couple hours and we’re getting dinner after.” She said, attempting to ease her mother’s discomfort. “Besides, if I need to come home, I’ll just call and have you pick me up, promise.” She added quickly, taking her last gulp of the unsavory protein shake as she gestured crossing her heart.

Her mother let out an ever deeper sigh. “Fine.” She grumbled, not completely convinced, but wanting her daughter to have fun.

“Also…” Camila started, trailing off slightly. “Alice was the one who invited me over for tomorrow, Jasper’s sister.” She corrected pointedly, receiving a nod and content smile from her mother in return as they pulled up to the school. Of course her mother had been fine with her Saturday plans, Carlisle being in attendance.

Camila’s eyes flickered over to the Cullens’ usual parking space, immediately spotting the mop of golden curls. She cleared her throat, leaning forward to give her mother a sideways hug before quickly exiting the car. “Love you, Mom.” She said, quickly shutting the door behind her.

Jasper, like promised, was almost immediately by her side, grasping her hand in his, returning to their mutual state of comfort. A light mist hovered in the air as small water droplets began to fall from the sky. “Come on.” He muttered softly, tugging her gently in the direction of the main doors. “Don’t want you getting sick.” He said, rubbing his thumb lightly on the back of her hand.

——————

Much to her dismay, despite rushing to make it to school early enough to spend time with Jasper, she had only been given a few minutes before the bell had rung, signaling the start of the day. She had been reluctant in leaving his side, finally doing so as he promised to save her a seat next to him for lunch.

Camila had opted, once again, to take her seat next to Angela as her history class started. She had been wondering all night if the girl had mustered up the courage to ask Eric, and couldn’t hold herself back as it was the first question she asked. “Soooo…” She drew out dramatically. “Did you ask him?” She asked, raising an eyebrow in question as she waited patiently for her answer.

Redness creeped up to Angela’s cheeks as tucked a piece of hair behind her ear bashfully. “Maybe…” She muttered lowly, earning a squeal from the girl.

“Girls.” The teacher scolded, warning them of their noise.

‘Sorry.’ Camila mouthed, grimacing just slightly before bringing her attention back to the teen next to her. “Go on.” She urged, nudging her shoulder to continue as she cupped her hands together in front of herself, listening intently.

The blush deepened as she admitted. “He said yes.” She whispered, leaning close as if it was a trade secret.

Camila beamed at the news. “See? I told you.” She said cheerfully. “Strong. Independent.” She said confidently, nodding her head curtly.

Angela giggled, giddy from the conversation. “I know, and I promise to save you a speech at our wedding.” She joked. Camila’s heart plummeted, trying to keep her smile from dropping as she looked down to her textbook. She knew it was a joke of course, but it didn’t stop the words from wiping the happiness from her heart.

She shook her head lightly, refusing to let one lighthearted joke put a damper on her day. “Well, congrats on the engagement.” She joked.

Angela scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Well what about you and Jasper?” She asked, looking to her expectantly.

Camila raised an eyebrow, gaining nonchalance as his name caused her heart to skip a beat. “What about me and Jasper?” She asked innocently.

“Oh come on.” She urged. “I saw you guys leave right after lunch together. Are you guys dating?” She said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Of course someone had seen. Oh well. She would have to give her some sort of reason now.

Her mind reeled, trying to find a simple explanation, because she didn’t know the answer. The word ‘dating’ felt so juvenile, simultaneously too much of a description for what was going on between them as well as no where near enough. “Blood tests in biology.” She said, settling on the half truth. “I get queasy from the sight of blood. He took me home.” She explained simply, as if the whole thing was no big deal.

“Awww.” Angela cooed, clutching her hands to her chest. “That’s actually so sweet.” She said, jutting her bottom lip out in a pout.

Camila rolled her eyes, shoving her lightly. “Shut up.” She muttered, hanging her head as it was her turn to blush. This earned another giggle from the girl.

——————

By the time lunch had rolled around, her suspicions had shown correct. The aches in her bones, in her joins were almost too much to handle as the day went on and she was definitely beginning to regret not taking her meds that morning. She should’ve known not to do it. Should’ve listened to her own concerns and just given in, but the decision had already been made, and there was no point in dawning on it now.

Of course, Jasper had immediately caught on to her discomfort, no doubt with the help of his ‘gift’. The pain had began to grow overwhelming as a dull throbbing started in her forehead. Everything combined with the noise of the cafeteria was causing a migraine to build behind her brow.

Jasper couldn’t help but stare at her as she sat there, eyes squinted slightly at the fluorescent lighting. “Headache?” He muttered softly, watching as her eyes shot open suddenly, looking up at him from beneath his arm as she nodded slightly. He hummed, letting his forehead rest on hers as her eyes fluttered closed.

She sighted in content, the coolness of his skin helping ease the throbbing inside her skull. He knew that it may be a bit too intimate of a thing to do in the middle of the cafeteria, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. If it helped ease her pain, then it was well worth the stares. As much as he originally wanted to keep thing discreet between the two of them, he was beginning to realize how difficult that would be.

A low snicker sounded from across the table followed a loud thwack. “Emmet.” Jasper muttered, warning his brother, as his eyes remained closed. Clearly he hadn’t learned, or maybe hadn’t taken Jasper seriously enough before.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Jesus.” He said, holding up his hands in defense, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Actually, his name is Jasper.” Camila muttered softly, eyes sill shut tightly as a smile ghosted her lips, earning soft laughter from Jasper.

Emmet, clearly confused by her statement, stared at the two, eyebrows furrowed in pure confusion. He looked to Alice for an explanation, receiving a shrug of the shoulders instead.

They had remained like this for the remainder of their lunch period, foreheads pressed gently against one another, basking in the comfort of their touch. Suddenly, cold palms pressed against her ears, jolting her from Jasper as a muffled ringing of the school bell sounded. She turned, seeing a smiling Alice behind her. “Thanks.” She said softly, giving her wide smile and wrapping her arms tenderly around the girl’s petite frame in a tight hug. The immortal girl was so damn sweet, blocking the loud noise from her ears like that. It baffled her how anybody in this godforsaken town dared to call her weird.

Alice grinned, ear to ear, as she wrapped her arms securely around Camila, reciprocating the friendly gesture. “See you tomorrow.” She said brightly as she pulled away from the embrace. “Jasper will be back there at eleven to pick you up.” She said.

Her words caught in Camila’s ears. Back there. A blush crept its way onto her cheeks. Of course she would know that Jasper had been spending the night with her as of late, but that didn’t stop her from being bashful about it.

Jasper stood, gathering both of their bags before intertwining their fingers, returning to their normal position of holding hands. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home now?” He asked hesitantly.

Camila shook her head, following his lead out into the hallway. “I’m sure.” She reassured him. “I just want to finish my classes. Besides, that whole thing really did help the headache.” She admitted. “Thanks for that, by the way.” She added, sending him a bashful smile, her cheeks remaining reddened.

He lead her towards her Mr. Molina’s classroom, their shoes adding to the clattering sounds of the busy hallway. “My pleasure.” He said, smirk prominent.

She nudged her shoulder with his, as if it would do anything, and muttered a soft ‘shut up’ as she rolled her eyes at him playfully. The one minute warning bell rung loudly throughout the hall as they stopped next the door of her next class.

He swung her bag from his shoulder, keeping it tightly in his grasp as he stood there for a moment, seemingly lost in her eyes. He bit his lip, contemplating if he should give in to his desires. Give in to the need to feel her lips on his once again, if even only for a second.

The feeling of her lips on his had been plaguing his mind all day. The way she had sent swarms of butterflies all around his insides. The way she has kissed him back with just as much feeling behind it as him. The emotions that were immolating from her, but hadn’t wanted to be too certain of the clarity in what the meant.

“You should probably go. You’ll be late.” She said softly as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

Jasper smiled down at her, eyes not faltering as he answered. “Don’t worry, you’re worth it, trust me.” He said, closing the already gradually narrowed gap between their lips.

Her eyes fluttered closed, leaning into his touch, into the tenderness of his kiss, before it was gone all too soon. The kiss, like his others, had nearly taken her breath away, and she wondered vaguely and rather doubtfully if she would ever get used to the feeling of his lips on hers. Her eyes opened to find him glaring down the hall, in the opposite direction of herself. She followed his gaze, landing on none other than Tyler Crowley.

Their glaring contest remained until the boy passed, entering the biology classroom, his eyes flickering back to hers. “You had to do that on purpose, right?” She asked chidingly, referring to the kiss that so happened to be timed directly when the boy had been walking down the hall towards them.

Jasper shook his head, denying the accusation. “I admit, he really doesn’t like me.” He admitted, recalling the hatred that had ran through the teen’s mind. “But no.” He continued. “I definitely don’t need any other reason to want to kiss you, Darlin’.” He said, smirking as he closed his eyes and laid yet another kiss on her lips.

A clearing of a throat interrupted their moment, the couple pulling away quickly to find Mr. Molina, arms crossed with an eyebrow raised. “Miss Johnson, you may want to come in before I have to mark you tardy.” He said, turning his gaze to Jasper. “And Mr Cullen.” He continued. “Do you, or do you not have a class to get to?” He asked pointedly.

“Sorry, Mr. Molina.” They said in unison, Camila’s cheeks turning a bright deep of red as she took her bag from Jasper’s outstretched hand.

“I’ll see you in calculous.” Jasper promised, whispering as he made sure that Mr. Molina was no longer looking before bringing their still intertwined fingers to his lips where he laid a delicate kiss to her knuckles. He dropped her hand slowly, reluctant as always to lose her touch as he retreated to his next class.

She had just made it inside the door frame as the tardy bell sounded. Jasper smiled, the feeling of her lips fresh on his mind. His first tardy slip. He would never hear the end of it when Emmet inevitably found out, that much he was sure of. He didn’t care though. She was worth it.

——————

The aching, throbbing pain in her body had somehow almost doubled by the time Camila’s calculous class had rolled around, and she found herself, once again, grateful to have the class with Jasper. His presence was always a comforting thing to her and, in that moment, it was helping distract her from her pain, even if not completely. She could see the finish line. There was only less than twenty minutes left to the class and then she could go home and rest. She had been counting down the minutes of the last half hour, eyes flickering to the clock that hung on the front wall of the room every couple minutes.

Jasper had, of course, felt that she was in pain. Doing the best he could in the situation by dipping his fingers under the hem of her shirt, laying his cold palm on the small of her back, hoping that it might help alleviate some of the ache in her spine. Hoping that he wasn’t stepping over the line with his touch. She would be home soon, he assured himself. Home soon, so that she could take her meds and start to feel better. He had sent waves of comfort to her, watching her body relax into her seat as he gave in to the use of his powers. As much as he hated using his powers on her without permission, the action feeling as if he was invading her privacy, he knew that this would be an exception he was happy to make to that rule.

Camila let out a sigh of relief, goosebumps rising from his gentle touch. “Thank you.” She said gratefully. The pain was still there of course, but in that moment she could feel his influence. Feel that he had used his powers to help distract her the best he could from that pain.

He leaned his head forward to lay a tender kiss to her temple. “No thanks necessary, Ma’am.” He said, southern accent thick. He hadn’t been sure when exactly he had decided to throw all caution to the wind, but he couldn’t exactly help himself from showing the little displays of affection. Everything seemed so natural for them that he had found it difficult to remind himself to try and hold some of it back. He didn’t really care anymore though.

Sure, they definitely had a lot to talk about still and the last thing he wanted to do was skew her decision at the end of it all, but he couldn’t stop himself. His feelings were growing too quickly for him to get a mental grasp on them, the magnetic pull towards her was reeling him in much too strongly. He just couldn’t hold it back anymore, and he wasn’t even sure if he actually wanted to.

He had stayed there, glued to her side after the bell had rung signaling the end of class. His concentration didn’t waver one bit as he made sure continue sending calming waves, wanting to comfort her for as long as possible before having to let her go.

Camila had been the one to kiss him this time, forcing herself onto her tiptoes as she closed the gap between their lips. She wasn’t quite sure where the sudden confidence had stemmed from, but it probably had to do with his near constant displays of affection he had been showing her over the past twenty-four hours. Either way, she didn’t hold back as she pressed her lips to his, not caring about the stares they were starting to get as they stood against the wall of lockers.

Reluctantly, Jasper forced himself to pull away, knowing that her mother was waiting just outside of the doors to take her home. “Take your meds and get some rest when you get home.” He said, brushing his thumb against her plump lower lip, unable to take his eyes off of it. “I’ll see you later tonight, promise.” He promised, nudging her towards the exit.

“Fineeee.” Camila drew out dramatically, rolling her eyes playfully. She forced herself not to look back to him as she followed the crowd outside. Scanning the busy parking lot, she found her mother’s car and set her course. She winced as she felt Jasper’s powers leave, hit by a sudden wave of pain, no doubt too far for the calm to reach her any longer. Using every bit of strength left in her, she pulled the passenger door open, sinking into the seat as she let out an exhausted sigh, closing it swiftly behind herself.

A look of concern immediately plastered itself onto her mother’s face. “Are you okay, Sweetie? Do I need to take you to see Carlisle?” She asked, voice laced with panic as she took in her daughters slouched over frame.

Camila shook her head, closing her eyes as she leaned further back into the seat. “I’m fine Mom, promise. I just forgot to take my meds today.” She assured her.

Michelle remained silent for a moment, lip pulled between her teeth as she seemed to be mulling over a thought in her head. “Maybe…” She stared cautiously. “Maybe we should to think about pulling you out of public school.” She said.

Camila’s eyes shot open, wincing as she pushed herself upright and alert in her seat. “What?” She asked, a slight panic in her voice. “I just started. I’m fine, I swear.” She said, tears beginning to well in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want to leave school, no matter how hard it was becoming. She had just started to make friends. She didn’t want to spend the last few months of her life lonely.

“You’re not okay though, Honey.” Her mother interjected, voice thick with emotion. “This was my concern with letting you go in the first place. You only have a little bit left with us, less than we were expecting, and I don’t want that time to be shortened because you’re pushing yourself to do too much.” She explained, voice cracking as a stray tear streamed down her cheek.

Maybe it was a good thing that the topic had finally been brought up. It was too often that her parents brushed her illness under the rug. Acted like everything was fine as if not talking about it would upset Camila any less. “I know, Mom. I promise to take care of myself better. I just want to be able to have friends again.” She said, bitting her lip in attempt to stop it from quivering. “I don’t want to be lonely again.” She whispered.

Michele sniffled, blinking rapidly as she shook her head, trying to rid herself of the tears. “Okay. One more time with something like this and that’s it.” She stated stubbornly. “And don’t think this means I won’t discuss this with your father when he gets home from work. I’m holding you to that promise missy.” She said, pointing a finger at the girl.

——————

The hours ticked by at an agonizing pace, Jasper not knowing what to with his time as he waited for the minute to arrive in which he could see Camila once again. The sun hadn’t even set yet, but he felt like the waiting had been going on for a millennium. He had tried distracting himself with his homework, but that had taken a comically short amount of time to finish. Hunting was out of the picture as he had done so only the day before. In that moment he couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed to fill his time on any other occasion. Over a century of living and he couldn’t manage to fill one afternoon.

He had settled on attempting to read one of the many books lining the shelves of his room, struggling to adequately assign his attention to the paper when a knock suddenly sounded on his door. He sighed, raising to his feet to answer the knock when it swung open on its own accord. He had been expecting Alice or even Emmet, come to tease him about the displays of affection that he had shown that day at school, but instead, there stood Edward. The last person he had expected to come knocking.

He hadn’t had an actual conversation with Edward in over a week, both having been mutually avoiding each other, so his sudden appearance had shocked him a bit. “Edward.” He greeted bluntly as he returned to his seat, closing the book he had been ‘reading’.

“Jasper…” Edward started awkwardly. “I wanted to come and apologize for the way that I’ve been acting.” He admitted, looking down to the shiny floorboards in guilt. “I guess… I can’t help but be jealous of you.” He admitted reluctantly.

Jasper sighed, gesturing for Edward to take a seat next to him. “I know.” He said bluntly. Of course he had known Edward was jealous, it had been painfully obvious. “I’m sure this whole thing is very difficult for you.” He said sympathetically, referring of course to their situation with the two human girls. “But,” He continued. “I don’t want you to think that this isn’t difficult for me too.” He said.

Edward’s shoulders hunched over in defeat as he settled into the chair next to him. “I know that, and I truly am sorry for taking my frustrations out on you.” He said, Jasper urging him to continue with a pointed glare. “And on her.” He admitted, hanging his head in shame. “I promise to be on my best behavior tomorrow when she comes over. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” He said, dramatically gesturing crossing his heart.

Dropping the glare, Jasper smirked. “You better be. I can embarrass you around Bella Swan just as easily.” He threatened, sending a playful punch into his adopted brother’s shoulder. Okay, so maybe he did understand why everyone had been teasing him about Camila, it was kind of fun.

Edward groaned dramatically. “You and Emmet both.” He complained, rolling his eyes. “I am really happy for you, you know?” He said, suddenly serious again as he gave him a soft smile. “I’m happy to see that you’ve found someone to make you happy. You deserve it.” He admitted.

If Jasper was able, he knew he would be blushing. If his heart wasn’t frozen in his chest, he knew it would be racing. She did make him happy. Make him feel like he was floating just at the sound of her voice. Just at the mention of her name. Make him feel like his heart still beat in his chest. Make him not feel like such a monster. “Thank you, Edward. I want the same for you too.” He said earnestly.

“Unfortunately, things are a bit more complicated for me.” Edward said, pain filling his eyes as he stared off at nothing in particular.

Jasper leaned forward, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I have faith that everything will work out for the best, Brother. Regardless of what happens, know that I’m here for you. That’s what family is for, right?” He said, giving him a soft smile. Edward reciprocated the smile, pulling him to a hug, hearing that he spoke with the utmost honesty.

The truth was, regardless of the difficulties of their separate situations, they were both completely and utterly screwed. Both of their happiness, their loves, their lives hung on the line of the most fragile thing possible. The lives of humans.

Miraculously, Jasper somehow managed to not go insane as he waited the remainder of the time, Edward having given him some information to think about while that time passed. It wasn’t exactly new information, but it did give him the opportunity to think about things in a new light.

While Bella’s future lied in the hands of Edward himself and the limits of his control, Camila’s laid solely in her own hands. He wasn’t exactly sure what was best out of the two scenarios, having to trust in your control to give them the life that they deserved, or having no real possibility of giving them that future to begin with.

Deep down, he knew that despite his selfish wants, if he had been given the opportunity to give Camila a long and beautiful human life, he would do so in heartbeat. She deserved a normal future, not just the options of death and darkness. Irregardless, those were the choices she had been given, and Jasper could do nothing to change that.

So, when the hour finally arrived, he was there as promised, right at her window, right on time. He could hear her heartbeat as he stood outside of the home, slow and steady. She was sleeping, he realized, as he moved to ease the window open, cringing slightly at the creaking of the wooden frame. He had contemplated for a moment whether or not he should just leave, but had decided against it. He had promised her that he would be there, and he wouldn’t break that promise, so instead, he moved as quietly as he possibly could, not wanting to wake her from her much needed slumber.

In the end, it was the damned window that had betrayed his stealth. As he had gently moved the pane of glass back into place, it had squealed in protest, causing her to stir in her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, her bright green irises squinting through the dim lighting towards his lean frame. “Jasper?” She whispered, voice slightly cracking from the sleep.

He let out a heavy sigh, visibly deflating as he made his way towards her to join her on the old worn mattress. “I’m sorry, Darlin’, I was trying to be quiet.” He apologized as he took a seat in what had become his usual spot, the springs groaning in protest of his added weight.

Camila shook her head, pushing the dull ache to the back of her mind as she came to sitting position, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “No, it’s okay. I want to be awake.” She assured him.

Jasper reached forward, grasping her chin gently between his cool fingers as he peered into her eyes. “How are you feeling?” He asked, concern coating his voice.

She smiled lightly, leaning into his chilled touch. “Much better.” She said, reaching down to intertwine her fingers with his free hand.

He let his grasp fall from her chin, his eyes not leaving hers. “Alice wanted me to warn you that we will be absent from school on Monday and Tuesday.” He informed, a slight frown forming.

Camila slouched, giving him a childish pout. “Why?” She asked, not able to stop the disappointment from showing clear as day.

He resisted the urge to kiss the pout away as he rubbed his thumb comfortingly across the back of her hand. “It’s going to be sunny.” He said simply.

Her eyebrows raised in interest. “Don’t tell me the whole thing about vampires burning in the sun is true.” She said.

Jasper couldn’t help the burst of laughter coming from his chest as he processed her words. “No.” He said, smile bright with humor. “I’ll show you tomorrow what I mean, but we definitely don’t burn.” He assured her. “Or spontaneously combust.” He joked.

She sighed exasperatedly. “Fineee.” She drew out. “I guess I’ll survive without you.” She teased. In truth, she was more than a little bit bummed that he wouldn’t be there. She had gotten so used to his company that the thought of having to sit at a different table with the rest of her ‘friends’ during lunch did admittedly upset her.

“I can come over right after school if you’d like.” He offered, knowing full well that the suggestion was just as much for his benefit as hers. He had a sense that being away from her would be much more difficult than he had originally expected. As much as he was aware that she would need the rest after such long days, he couldn’t stop the selfishness as he asked, knowing that he would be content with just holding her as she slept if she would let him.

A smile formed on her face, the excitement at the idea of seeing him almost making her forget of her plans that had been previously made, her shoulders sagging as she suddenly remembered. “I’m helping Angela shop for a prom dress on Tuesday.” She said disappointedly. “After that though?” She asked expectantly. He nodded, immediately agreeing to the idea as he laid a soft kiss to her knuckles.

Camila sucked in a breath at the touch of his lips. The same lips that she had been growing accustomed to feeling on her own. Angela’s words from earlier that day flew through her mind. Dating.

As much as thinking about the topic made her cringe, she felt she had to figure it out before going into his home and seeing his family. Had to figure out what all of the affection, all of the kissed meant to him. She knew what they meant to her of course, but the possibility of him not feeling the same while her emotions were as clear as day for him to read on her was particularly mortifying.

“So… speaking of Angela.” She started, trying to act casual regardless of the fact that the racing of her heart would inevitably give her away. “She asked me today if we were dating…” She trailed off.

Curiosity sparked along with nervousness in his chest, the topic instantly gaining his full interest. “What did you tell her?” He asked.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing slightly, and it took everything in him to not stare at the action. “I kind of evaded the question.” She admitted. His heart sunk slightly at her words, forcing himself to nod in understanding. “What should I have told her?” She asked cautiously.

He paused for a moment to think. He wasn’t exactly sure of his answer. He knew what he wanted, but also didn’t to put her in any situation that would make her uncomfortable, so he answered honestly. “Whatever answer you would’ve given her would’ve been okay with me.” He assured her.

“I didn’t want to assume anything just because you kissed me.” She said softly, nervousness coursing through her veins.

Jasper perked up, realizing suddenly what she meant. This whole time he had been concerned of pushing things too far and making her uncomfortable, while she was concerned of doing the same to him. “I know this probably sounds completely ridiculous, and please, don’t hesitate to tell me to back off, because I know that this whole thing has been moving quickly even for me.” He started, gesturing between the two of them. “But I have never felt more deeply for someone as I do with you and I promise you I will be happy with anything that you are willing to give me.” He said, pouring as much emotion into his words as was possible.

Camila’s heart soared at his admission and for once, she hadn’t felt embarrassed by the fact that he could hear what he was doing to her heart. Could feel what he was doing to her emotions. She didn’t hold herself back as she pressed her lips to his in what would normally be a bruising force to anybody else, putting every ounce of her feelings into the kiss.

For a moment, she wasn’t certain about whether or not everything was heightened because she had been sure she would never feel this way. Would never be given the opportunity to love someone. She had been so certain that love had been off the table for her for good, and then there he was offering her so much more than just that. She knew as well as he did that it was ridiculous, feeling love for someone you barely just met, but she knew deep down that it was just that. Love.

She couldn’t deny herself any longer, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it to him yet. She was falling in love with him, and even with as quick as everything was moving, it all felt completely natural somehow. Like she was meant to love him, and even though he hadn’t blatantly admitted that he was falling in love with her as well, she knew that was what it was. Like there was an invisible string tying them to each other making it all make sense.

Her warm lips burned into his, melting the world around them and searing their touch permanently into his mind. Her hands trailed up to his hair, wrapping her fingers in the strands at the base of his neck. The ferocity of her kiss had his head spinning and he had to force his instincts back to remain gentle as he curled his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly close to himself.

Their mouths moved in sync, his mind going fuzzy. There was so much emotion behind the kiss. So much love, and he could feel every bit of it. He didn’t need her to tell him how she felt, because he could feel it himself, and nothing had ever overwhelmed him more. Never in his long drawn out life had he felt so much pure and raw emotion. They would tell each other of their feelings when they were both ready, but in that moment all they needed to do was show each other. Feel it in their touch.

Reluctantly, he forced himself back from her kiss, reminding himself that unlike him, she needed to breath. Their foreheads rested together, basking in each others embrace as he allowed her time to catch her breath. He lowered his body slowly down to the mattress, pulling her into his chest, focusing on the racing of her heart and the feel of her fingertips on his skin.

And they laid like that, just holding each other until the sun rose in the sky, casting shadows in the soft light around them. Until he was forced to leave, promising to return soon, just as Alice had promised would happen.

Next Chapter

Tag List:

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thestalwartheart · 1 month

Note

May I ask for 00q and a 💛 please

Hello my friend! Thank you for the prompt. This was such a lovely one to fill.

You can read the fill below or on AO3. 💛

After a weapons test goes wrong in Q Branch, Bond spends a moment dancing with regret.

relief.

One minute and seventeen seconds.

James Bond has lived through a lot. He’s lived through seconds that felt like years and years that felt like fleeting moments. He’s seen people suffer. He’s seen plenty of people die; killed some of them for duty, and loved others to their death.

So, a minute should be nothing. He’s held his breath for longer.

“Q.” With the hand that isn’t holding his jacket to the wound at Q’s head, he cradles Q’s chin. Blood slicks the path of his fingers, then sticks.

“Medical team are two minutes away,” says someone. Not Tanner. Not anyone useful.

“Tell them to hurry up. They can take the bloody stairs if they have to.”

Two minutes. Christ, Bond's only been here on the floor for one.

He strokes his thumb over Q’s mouth. His lips are blood red now, stained from Bond’s messy hands. They’re a grotesque mockery of their usual cherry red, that colour for which Bond has never found an equal.

“Come on, Q. Wake up.”

There’s a pulse at Q's neck. That’s positive. Breath, too. Even better. All good signs. None of them do much to quell the frightful adrenaline in Bond’s bones. It’s been there since he saw Q land badly after his fall. No, not a fall. The body-flattening shock from the blast which—

“What the hell happened to proper safety regulations?” Bond barks. The techs around him flinch, but he doesn’t spare them another thought.

Under his thumb, Q’s lips are moving.

“Since when were you an expert on health and safety, 007?” A warm puff of laughter comes from his lips, and Bond doesn’t waste another second.

The kiss tastes like blood and cordite, and Bond’s own blood rushes to his ears. His pulse is on his tongue.

This wasn’t how it was meant to go, not with Q. He was meant to take Q out to dinner, wine and dine him, and see him in a proper suit. There didn’t seem a man in the world more in need of sweeping off his feet than Q, and Bond had intended to rise to the occasion. But as always, as always, the universe sought to remind him there just wasn’t enough bloody time for all the things in the world he wanted. There was only time for this. This kiss. This moment, holding Q's bloodied face in his hands on the debris-littered, dusty floor of Q Branch.

Q hums into his mouth, then winces.

Bond pulls back. “All right?”

“Mm. If I’d have known on our last field mission together that this was all it would take…”

Bond remembers his and Q’s last mission well. It was three weeks ago now, though it may as well be a lifetime. They’d spent days under the bright, arid haze of Rome’s summer sun, where Bond had, for once in his life, turned down a blatant invitation to sleep with someone with no strings attached. Because Q wasn’t just anyone. And Bond was, frankly, finished with starting things under a hail of bullets that were only doomed to fail.

Regret settles under his skin now. He wishes he’d given into the delicate warmth of Q’s hand on his knee. They could have kissed at sunset with the Colosseum to their backs. He could have watched Q drink his fill of Chianti under the stars. Everyone believes Paris is the city of love, but Bond has always preferred Rome. Vesper once joked it was the memory of all those strapping Roman soldiers.

Gently, Bond strokes his fingers through the dusty, greasy, sweaty mess of Q’s hair. Unbelievably, it still looks intentionally styled. “Don’t. I didn’t want—you deserved more.”

“Oh,” croaks Q. “To hell with what we deserve.”

With a weak fist, Q grabs Bond’s blazer and brings him down for another kiss. And this time, Bond doesn’t wonder about the paths not taken. He sighs and kisses Q back. Q will live a long life if Bond has anything to say about it, but if they only have a minute left together, then Bond knows how he wants to spend it:

With love rather than regret.

#00q #james bond #00q fic #my fic

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that-reading-geek · 2 months

Text

Broken guitar strings

Crowley x Aziraphale, sugar daddy AU, Human AU

Chapter two

Contains nsfw scenes

Posted on A03

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale spend some quality time together before and after work, Aziraphale learning some more about Crowleys backstory, as well as his body.

Crowley and Bee meet with Muriel at Crowleys gig of the night, and spend the evening together. Crowley gets paid his first paycheck from Aziraphale.

When Crowley woke up to an unfamiliar room and blankets that actually kept him from freezing over night, the initial shock and confusion had him bolting upright and glancing around the room frantically. He stared at the bookshelves and cluttered desk, misremembering where he had accidentally fallen asleep last night. It wasn’t until there was a knock at the door and the smell of waffles wafting through that all memories of yesterday evening came flooding back to him, hitting him like a truck.

“Good morning dear, I made breakfast, I didn’t know what you like so I thought you can’t go wrong with waffles and berries!” Aziraphale said cheerily as he stepped into the room. He placed the tray of food at the end of the bed, before looking at Crowley puzzled. “Are you alright my boy? You’re looking rather frazzled.”

“’m fine Aziraphale... jus’... woke up confused...” Crowley mumbled, trying to smooth his hair down. “Sorry for falling asleep, didn’t mean to stay the night.” When Crowley looked to his right, he noticed the un-slept-in half of the bed, and suddenly guilt gnawed at his chest.

“Oh nonsense, it was quite nice to have your company,” Aziraphale giggled.

Crowley shrugged and flopped back against the pillows, he would go back to sleep if he was in his own bed, but alas he wasn’t, so instead he peered up at the other man.

Aziraphale tutted, “Come and eat your breakfast dear,” he said, although he did silently agree that more sleep would be divine.

Crowley realised that even after his 2 meals yesterday, which was far more food than he was used to on the daily, his stomach was practically clawing at him for food, and the smell of the waffles did seem delicious. He didn’t want to waste them after Aziraphale had clearly put in so much effort for him.

He sat up and scooted to the end of the bed, where Aziraphale had perched. The waffles were a beautiful golden brown, with syrup pooling off of them and a litter of berries scattered on top. He took the cutlery Aziraphale had so graciously offered him and cut a piece, before biting it with a satisfied moan.

With his mouth still full, he stabbed another piece and held it up to Aziraphale, “Have some.”

The other man only scorned him lightly for not finishing his mouthful before speaking, before taking the piece Crowley had offered him into his own mouth and chewing. The two spent their morning eating the waffles together and occasionally feeding each other mouthfuls or some berries, before Aziraphale was gently dabbing at his own mouth with his handkerchief and then doing the same to Crowley, despite his protests.

“Do you have work today my dear?” Aziraphale asked as they finished off the waffles.

Crowley nodded “Mmph, yeah, not till 12 though.”

Aziraphale hummed in thought, “Perhaps we could talk some more, or I could show you around, since we didn't get the chance to yesterday.”

Crowley blushed at the memory, but nodded all the same. The two stayed in bed for a couple more moments, allowing Crowley’s food to settle before Aziraphale was encouraging him out of the warmth and comfort to go on a little tour of the bookshop.

Crowley had his arms wrapped around himself, his button down and jeans were doing little to keep him warm now that he had emerged from Aziraphale’s blankets. He hadn’t changed out of yesterday’s clothes before falling asleep, and he somewhat regretted not bringing at least a jumper.

“Pull this on,” Aziraphale chuckled, handing Crowley a cream, cable-knit jumper from his wardrobe, “It may be a bit big, but no matter, we wouldn’t want you freezing, would we dear?”

Crowley took it gratefully as his lips pulled into an awkward line that was supposed to be a smile, “Well aren’t you an angel,” he teased, before pulling the jumper over his head. It was, as Aziraphale had warned, big on Crowley. But Aziraphale secretly came to the conclusion that Crowley looked rather adorable in his jumper, with the sleeves covering his hands the way they did. The smaller man didn’t pay much attention to it, just rather grateful for the extra layer, and he did have to admit it was rather comfortable.

Aziraphale showed him the whole bookshop, lower and upper floor. The ground level contained the main bookshop, as well as Aziraphale’s office and the small living space that Crowley blushed at the sight of. The blankets laying over the back of the sofa that hadn’t been there the previous evening solved Crowley’s question as to where Aziraphale had slept last night, and the sting of guilt made itself known once more. Upstairs contained the bedroom that Crowley found himself missing as they passed the door. Aziraphale showed him the bathroom, the little kitchenette and dining area, as well as a mini reading nook that was tucked away out of sight, with a window and pillows and of course a reading light. Crowley found himself running his fingers over the spines of perfectly looked after books, reading the titles and not recognising a single one.

“Do you too, have an affinity for reading dear boy?” Aziraphale said softly, coming up behind him to peer at the books he was looking at.

“Ngk, not really, ‘less its sheet music, like plants though,” He glanced up at Aziraphale, who had propped his chin on the smaller mans shoulder.

Aziraphale simply smiled and nodded, “I may have some music books or plant guides you could borrow downstairs, help yourself should the need arise.”

Crowley nodded and thanked him, finding himself leaning into the other man and welcoming the arms that wrapped around his waist. Aziraphale pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder that had Crowley’s face heating up and the tips of his ears burning red. He wasn’t used to this type of gentle touch, but he could sure get used to it if this was what came with their deal. He gasped softly as Aziraphale’s kisses, feather-light and innocent, climbed up his neck and found their ways to his cheek and lips. Aziraphale giggled and he squeezed Crowley’s waist gently, placing one more kiss on the tip of Crowley’s nose before pulling away.

The taller man checked his watch, before humming softly, “May I walk you to work dearest? We have about half an hour.”

“Need to go home first,” Crowley shrugged, shivering at the lack of contact, “Change my clothes and shit, don’t want to make you wait.”

“Oh nonsense, I don’t mind, honestly.”

Crowley shook his head, “I’ll meet you at the shop.”

Aziraphale nodded and gently took his hands, kissing the younger mans knuckles, before the two were making their ways to the front door and Crowley was walking down the street to his apartment.

Crowley managed to make it to his shift with about five minutes to spare. He’d changed his clothes and put his guitar on its stand, promising to practise as soon as he was home. He greeted Nina with a wave and pulled his apron on, hanging his sunglasses over the top hem. He began by cleaning up a few mugs from empty tables and taking orders. Aziraphale was sitting at a table in the corner, waiting for him as promised, but with how busy the coffee shop was currently, Crowley had no time to stop and chat.

About half an hour passed before the foot traffic was low enough that Aziraphale took his chance to join the relatively short queue and order his usual. Crowley had the drink ready just as he approached the counter, holding the cup out without meeting his eye.

“Thank you dear,” Aziraphale said softly, their fingers brushing as he took the cup.

Crowley only met his eyes when he saw Aziraphale put a £20 note in the tip jar.

“Aziraphale!” He hissed, “that’s too much.”

“Nonsense dear, its only £20,” Aziraphale giggled, taking Crowley’s hand that had been previously on the counter.

“Mmph,” Crowley said, eyes now trained on their joined hands.

“I’m going to go find a table, will you come to the bookshop after your shift?”

“Yeah... dinner?”

“What do you fancy?”

“Don’t mind.”

“Think on it, we’ll get whatever you like.”

Crowley nodded and took his hand back as Aziraphale made his way back to his table. Crowley started taking the next person’s order, and soon he was back in the swing of his shift.

“What was that about?” Nina asked Crowley once there was a break in customers.

“What was what about?”

“You and Mr Fell.”

Crowley glared at her, though the blush on his cheeks made it a lot less threatening than he intended. “It was nothing, just chatting.”

“You don’t chat Crowley.”

He huffed and turned away from her, ignoring Nina’s knowing look in favour of pretending to organise the fridge.

The end of his shift couldn’t come any slower, and once he was putting his sunglasses back on and hanging his apron up, Crowley was beyond exhausted. It was 6pm and he’d told Nina she could head home. Locking up gave him the opportunity to catch his thoughts; Aziraphale had left a few hours ago, and he couldn’t help thinking of the other man for the rest of his shift. Crowley found himself glancing towards the bookshop, catching Aziraphale’s eye once or twice, earning a big grin.

The musician wiped the tables and turned off all the lights, double checking everything before heading out and locking the door behind him. He made his way across the road to the bookshop, knocking on the door almost guiltily.

Aziraphale welcomed him in moments later, ushering Crowley into the shop and towards the back.

“Have you decided what we should get for dinner?” the bookseller asked softly, leading Crowley to a sofa, who simply shook his head.

He hadn’t thought about it since Aziraphale had said to earlier, and was regretting the pressure he’d put on himself now that he was sat down in Aziraphale’s home.

Aziraphale sat down beside him, keeping a couple feet distance between them. “Would you rather go out or eat in?”

“In... something quick, please.”

“How about I give you my phone and you can choose whatever you like? No pressure.” Aziraphale said softly, getting his phone from his waistcoat and holding it out.

Crowley took it slowly and curled into the corner of the sofa, scrolling through the food delivery app and seeing what there was to offer.

Aziraphale picked up a book that was on the coffee table, busying himself whilst Crowley found something for dinner. It wasn’t clear how much time had passed; Aziraphale only looked up once he felt Crowley tap him on the arm, the musician holding his phone out with a shy smile on his face.

Crowley allowed Aziraphale to pull him closer, the older man keeping an arm around his waist as he leant on his shoulder. Aziraphale hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of Crowley’s head, going through to add his own meal to the order before placing it for delivery. Crowley couldn’t help but curl into the others side, absorbing the warmth that Aziraphale’s embrace seemed to practically radiate with.

As they waited for food to arrive, Aziraphale asked about Crowley’s day, the musician telling him about the few memorable things that happened over the course of his shift. Crowley asked Aziraphale his own questions, learning about how the older man spent his afternoon when he wasn’t staring through the window of the coffee shop. He learnt about the book Aziraphale had been reading, the shelves he had organised, the conversations with customers that all ended in them leaving empty handed. He learnt about what Aziraphale was thinking, about where his mind had wandered as the evening drew closer.

“I thought about you a lot too,” Crowley said after Aziraphale told him about how he wished Crowley’s shift would end faster to give him an excuse to hold him again.

“Oh?” Crowley couldn’t ignore how Aziraphale’s hand had migrated from his waist to his thigh, gently petting his denim-clad skin. “Tell me more.”

The musician looked up at him, “just... general stuff,” he said quietly.

“Like? C’mon dear, I don’t judge.”

Crowley blushed and buried his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder, looking away from the bookseller. “Like... mmph... meeting people you work with, or what your parents would think, or uhm... like what people will see when we’re.. out...” Crowley swallowed, “and the thing we did yesterday.” He looked up, expecting to see some sort of hurt emotion on Aziraphale’s face, or something more disgusted, but Crowley was pleasantly surprised when all he was met with was a happy smile and red cheeks.

“What do you want people to see when we’re out?”

Oh, so that’s what they were talking about now.

“I dunno... something normal.”

“Normal is rather far-fetched with an agreement like ours dear,” Aziraphale said softly.

“Mmph... I know, just-“

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then another to his forehead, and a final one to his lips. “We can try and do normal.”

Crowley nodded and tucked his head underneath Aziraphale’s chin, an action that was short lived as Aziraphale said: “Now about what happened yesterday...” the older man’s hand was still rubbing his thigh, his voice quiet as Crowley peered up at him.

The two gazed at each other, eyes locked as the musician tried to ignore Aziraphale’s hand on his thigh. Moments passed of simple staring and gentle one-sided touching, Crowley hesitating to rest his hands anywhere other than his lap.

A knock at the door caused Crowley to practically jump out of his skin, leaping away from Aziraphale before attempting to play it cool. He sat back against the sofa, watching as Aziraphale calmly stood from the sofa and answered the door, taking the food delivery and tipping the driver graciously.

As Aziraphale returned, Crowley pretended to be busy on his phone, only glancing up to meet Aziraphale’s eyes before darting back to his phone. Aziraphale only chuckled and pulled the food containers put of the bag and onto the coffee table, before leaning over and pecking Crowley’s cheek, mumbling “come eat,” against his skin.

Crowley nodded softly and slowly put his phone down, noting how Aziraphale remained close as he did so. The musician simply smiled up at him and leant forwards to pick up his food, watching as Aziraphale did the same. Curled into the corner of the sofa, Crowley opened his food and the cutlery that came with it and ate, noticing how Aziraphale left him alone for the time being. The two talked them participated in a one sided conversation, Aziraphale asking questions for Crowley to nod or shake his head to, the musician slowly unfurling and sitting closer to the other.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Crowley looked away from his food to look at Aziraphale, “What?”

“Earlier, when the food arrived,” Aziraphale explained, “I was touching you and now you’re not coming very close, I just hope I haven’t over stepped your boundaries.”

“Oh,” Crowley almost whispered, “no, not uncomfortable, sorry, just uhm... different.” He haphazardly explained. “Not really used to it, but didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief, placing his now empty food container down and turning to face Crowley properly. “How come it’s different?” He asked softly.

“ngk, haven’t had a... relationship for a long time, just hook-ups, nothing serious enough that there’s enough time for casual touching.”

Aziraphale nodded, “Do you prefer that? Hookups?”

“Not really, not most of the time anyway,” Crowley said softly, “I like the personal stuff, having someone look after me for once, I like it... uhm, when you hold me and touch me, all I thought about after you left...”

Aziraphale smiled softly and shuffled to sit closer to Crowley, holding an arm out to the younger man, an invitation which he less than hesitantly accepted. “May I continue?”

Crowley nodded and curled in close, finishing off the last of his food as Aziraphale wrapped his arm around his waist, continuing his gentle touches and kisses. He put his now empty food container on the table and allowed Aziraphale to pull him into his lap, smiling as he leant against the older man. Crowley couldn’t help but let his mind wander and Aziraphale continued his innocent touches, thinking about the other man’s hands all over him, under his clothes, weaved into his hair. Glancing up at Aziraphale, Crowley thought back to their agreement, and then to the burning sensation Aziraphale’s fingers now left on his body.

It wasn’t until Crowley felt the tingling sensation of Aziraphale’s hands on his inner thigh that he recognised his own arousal. He could feel himself leaning into the other man’s hold, wishing Aziraphale’s hand would touch him where he needed it most.

“Is this alright?” Aziraphale mumbled softly, smiling at Crowley’s near desperate nod. He allowed his hands to wander further in, cautiously noting Crowley’s reaction as he rested his hand on the younger mans groin. Earning verbal consent, Aziraphale carefully unzipped the fly of Crowley’s jeans, gently sliding his hand into the waistband of his boxers and palming the man carefully.

Crowley gasped softly at the feeling of Aziraphale’s soft hands on him, he keened, tucking his face into Aziraphale’s chest as the other continued palming him gently. The musician couldn’t help but allow his own hands to wander towards the fly of Aziraphale’s slacks, attempting to return the favour, however his hands were stopped short by Aziraphale’s free one, Crowley blushing as the other whispered: “Let me look after you.”

When Aziraphale’s fingers finally wrapped around his dick properly, Crowley let out a moan, hand reaching out to grip onto the older man’s arm. Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile as he watched Crowley’s eyes shut in pleasure, back arching in a gentle curve as he began pumping his hand, allowing him to bask in the long overdue pleasure he could supply.

Aziraphale pressed gentle kisses to Crowley’s cheeks, trailing his lips along the younger man’s jaw and to his neck, before pressing a final one to his shoulder and beginning the process once again. Crowley keened against him, hands fisting the sleeve of Aziraphale’s shirt as the movement on his cock sped up. The musician practically melted into Aziraphale’s hold, moans slipping past his lips in a tenor he didn’t know he was capable of.

“Angel!” He gasped when Aziraphale squeezed his shaft, the pet name slipping out before he could even stop himself. The older man simply grinned and pumped his hand faster causing a string of curses and more repeats of the accidental nickname to pour from Crowley’s lips, before he was babbling that he was close, cumming over his thighs and Aziraphale’s fingers with a deep shudder.

Crowley nestled into Aziraphale’s side as the older man ran his fingers through his hair, the two sitting in a comfortable silence as Crowley caught his breath. With cum drying quickly on his thighs, Crowley shifted in mild discomfort, before beginning to stand from his place on Aziraphale’s lap. The older man stopped him in his tracks, grabbing a tissue from the box on the coffee table and cleaning Crowley up before scooping him into his arms and standing from the sofa.

“Mmph-“ Crowley huffed, glancing up at him questioningly.

“Shall we get a bath dear boy?” Aziraphale smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s forehead.

Earning a nod, Aziraphale carried Crowley upstairs and into the bathroom, carefully setting him on the sink counter to run a bath. He added bubble bath and lent a tray across the top, fetching various soaps and scrubs. He set the items on the tray before walking over and standing between Crowley’s legs.

Crowley undressed himself , kicking his jeans off and tugging them of when they got stuck on his ankles. He slowly pulled his shirt off too, sitting in his boxers as he peered up at Aziraphale. The other man in question grinned at the sight of Crowley now bare chest, before allowing Crowley to kick his boxers off before lifting him up and carrying him to the bath. Aziraphale set Crowley in the warm water, kneeling beside the tub allowing the musician to get comfortable. He took a bottle of body wash and pouring some onto a wash cloth, before beginning to wipe him down once gaining consent.

“I don’t need all this Angel...”

“Nonsense, aftercare after sex is necessary.”

“That was hardly sex...” Crowley mumbled, “and I don’t want to be wasting your water.”

“Oh hush, you never have to worry about that.”

Crowley could only blush and allow Aziraphale to clean his body, he turned to allow him to reach his back, relaxing under the other man’s gentle touches.

“This is beautiful,” Aziraphale said softly, running his fingers gently down Crowley’s back, where a tattoo of a red and black snake marked his skin.

“Thanks,” Crowley whispered, “got it for my 18th birthday... I’d like more... maybe on my arms.”

Aziraphale smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to the tattoo, “that would be lovely...”

After the bath, Crowley was wrapped in one of Aziraphale’s robes, sitting in front of the mirror and carefully towel drying his hair. Aziraphale sat on the bed behind him, watching the way Crowley’s hands expertly moved his hair into the position he liked. Crowley glanced at him through the mirror, eyes only catching for a moment before he was looking away again.

When he was satisfied with his hair, Crowley stood and crawled onto the bed with Aziraphale, leaning into his side once the position was offered. Aziraphale carefully placed a kiss to the top of his hair, holding Crowley close and keeping the musician warm. He leant back, laying against the pillows with Crowley’s head on his chest, the two simply cuddling atop the bedsheets. Aziraphale wrapped both arms around Crowley, pulling him closer in order to properly provide after-care cuddles.

“Mmph, can’t stay long,” Crowley mumbled, pressing his nose into Aziraphale’s shirt.

“No?”

“No... got stuff tonight, with Bee.”

Aziraphale hummed and nodded, “then we better make the most of it hm?”

Crowley smiled drowsily and curled in closer, peering up at Aziraphale through his eyelashes. The older man smiled and kissed his forehead, whispering sweet nothings until Crowley began to nod off. The musician fought to stay awake, but soon gave into the sleep that grappled him, finding comfort in the warm that Aziraphale provided.

Aziraphale let Crowley sleep for a little while, he wasn’t sure what time his plans with Bee were, but he assumed that with how fast he had fallen asleep, Crowley deserved that extra nap. He watched Crowley’s chest rise and fall with each breath, watched his lips part and eyelashes flutter gently, watched as a lock of hair fell from its place and into his eyes. Aziraphale gently brushed the hair from his eyes and pressed a kiss to his forehead, before laying back and enjoying the quiet closeness.

Crowley slept for 3 quarters of an hour, eyes fluttering open, before he sat upright in a panic, accidentally slapping Aziraphale’s chest.

“Ngk, sorry, wha’s time?”

“About 9:30, you didn’t sleep too long.”

Crowley nodded and huffed, looking down at where Aziraphale was stilling laying.

“What time are you meeting Bee?” Aziraphale queried.

“Uhm.... bout 10... better get going,” Crowley mumbled. He watched as Aziraphale finally sat up, the older man pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Better get dressed then my dear, i'll walk you out.”

As promised, Crowley did pick up his guitar and practise once he was home, he made sure it was properly tuned and practised a couple of chords, before Bee was texting him that they were outside and he had to pack up to go and meet them. He practically floated down the stairs that lead to the pavement, guitar slung over his shoulder as he greeted Bee.

“Ready?” they asked, eyeing Crowley’s restless hands. The musician was flexing his fingers quickly and shaking his hands at his sides.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Crowley said, continuing to stim.

Bee only hummed and started walking, hands buried in their pockets as Crowley trailed behind. They waited awhile before finally saying:

“You good? You haven’t stopped-“ they mimicked his hand movements, -“you’re not nervous are you? You’ve performed here loads.”

“Ngk, s’nothing, not nervous.”

Bee nodded slowly, not convinced, but dropped the subject and continued the walk in silence. The two approached the bar that both had seen many times, it was one of Crowley’s more regular gigs, most people that worked there knew him, and at least he could score a free drink every now and then. Bee held the door open as Crowley stepped inside, throwing a 2 finger salute to the girl working the bar, she smiled back at him with a nod, and Crowley left Bee to go and set up.

Setting up was always his favourite bit, the regulars would come and sit nearer the front to chat and keep him company, sometimes receiving certain requests or that he come and join them for drinks once he was done (which he usually declined). His favourite regular by far was a young person who went by the name Muriel, the first time he’d met them they had been dragged to the bar by some co-workers and promptly left at the table whilst they all went to the bar to get Shitfaced. They had watched silently, but always smiled and waved whenever Crowley caught their eye or in-between songs. It took a couple more nights until the two spoke, Muriel had approached Crowley as he was packing up and introduced themself. Now, whenever Crowley worked here, Muriel was always the first face he looked for in the crowd of tables.

“Hiya Mr Crowley,” they said, sidling up next to him.

Crowley grinned as he out his guitar down, “Hello Muriel, alone again tonight?”

They nodded somewhat enthusiastically, before hopping up to set on the edge of the stage. They kicked their feet lightly and the two made idle chatter as Crowley finished setting up. Muriel told Crowley all about work and what they’d been up to, whilst Crowley nodded long and occasionally let slip a few details of his own. The two continued talking until it was time for Crowley’s set to start, and a small crowd had formed to listen to their regularly scheduled musician.

Crowley felt in his element in the bar, he had people who actually enjoyed listening to him, he felt comfortable to be more open and himself. Having friends only made the experience so much better, he would never trade the memories he’d made here with anything else. He played a couple of songs from his normal set before taking a handful of suggestions, ranging from the classics to some he had to Google sheet music for; no one cared how well he played, they just enjoyed how personal it was, and everyone had fun.

It was almost midnight when he finally finished, wiping the sweat from his forehead and hopping from the stage to join Bee at the bar. A cold glass of beer had been passed his way, which he accepted gratefully as he leant against the counter. Muriel approached the two slowly, before taking a seat on the other side of Crowley.

“Heya Muriel!” Bee cheered loudly, tipsy, “drink darlin’?”

“Just a j20 Bee,” they half-shouted over the music now playing over the speakers.

Bee nodded, “you got it.”

A j20 spritz was soon slid to the sober of the three, and Muriel accepted it eagerly, clinking the bottle with Crowley’s glass before sipping at the drink. The three participated in half-drunk chatter as Crowley worked off the adrenaline from his set.

No one kept track of how much time passed, only leaving when Muriel’s yawns became frequent, Crowley offering his apartment for the night. With Bee leaning on his shoulder, Crowley led the way home, keeping up the soft chatter between himself and Muriel, more to keep them awake and aware than anything.

He gave Muriel his keys once they’d reached the steps leading to the front door of the building, allowing himself a free hand to help Bee up the stairs and then to the next set that led to his apartment. Once inside, Crowley dumped his friend onto the bed, sighing when they groaned and swaddled themself with his blankets.

“Let me get you some clothes and set up the sofa Muriel...” he said quietly, “Could you get Bee some water? Cups are in the top right cupboard.”

Muriel nodded and did as they were requested as Crowley found some clean pyjamas for them to borrow and sorted out the sofa. The two got settled for bed, Muriel offering to take the sofa and Crowley scooting in next to Bee, who had already taken up three quarters of the bed.

“Bee move your ass,” Crowley hissed, earning a simple groan as they shuffled to give him more space.

He laid back and ignored Bee as they rolled over to face him, pulling up his phone to check if the bar had sent him the money from todays gig. When he opened the app, his total was more than he’d expected, confused, Crowley went to check the tab which told him any transfers had been made to and from his account.

“Shit...” he mumbled, causing Bee to perk up and nosily peer at his phone.

They snorted and grinned, “You musta done good today for him to pay you that much, gabe didn’t even pay me £350 our first day together.” Crowley didn’t meet their eye, still staring at Aziraphale’s name on his screen. “what’dya get up to anyway?”

“We didn’t.. fuck or anything,” Crowley whispered, “but we didn’t... keep out hands to ourselves. And he gave me a bath after... and let me nap on him... it was nice...”

Bee laughed loudly, earning a long ‘shhh’ from Crowley, and then rolled to lay their arm over his chest, “Well done Crowley,” they slurred, before dozing off without a moments pause. Crowley sighed and put his phone down, before pulling a blanket around Bee properly, pressing a soft kiss to his best friends forehead, and closing his eyes to sleep. He didn’t miss how they curled in closer, and sighed contently as the two drifted off.

#mlm #book tumblr #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic #fanfic #crowley #aziraphale #GO smut #good omens #smut #sugar daddy au #human au

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tokusaatsus · 2 years

Note

HI HI HI HI SUNNY may i have the honor of being your first request... may I request accidentally proposing to nazuna... (haha im totally sane about him) i was thinking that this could be a drabble or smau but whatever you wanna write more!! i have this concept in my drafts but it won't get written in 1000 years and i wanna see it happen so haha... whenever someone's requests are open i will plop one of my drafts with nazuna and see what happens

OKAY BUT HAVE FUN WITH THIS (if you wanna do this) (also feel free to add any other characters you wanna write w this prompt) (idk it's a fun prompt) (at least imo) anyways ty <333

☆—NITO NAZUNA

“Senpaiiii~” The distinctly whining tone of one Tenma Mitsuru only serves to worsen your headache. Ugh. “Are you done yet?”

“Not yet,” You say. “A little longer.”

“But you said that ages ago!”

Forcibly swallowing down some choice words, you close your eyes briefly and immediately regret it as your vision swims. You blink back dark spots. The alarm clock reads 18:09. Last you checked it was 09:12. Fuck. You’ve been awake for longer than you thought…

Your fingers stall on the keyboard of your laptop and you force yourself not to scream. God, you want to sleep so bad, but your assignments won’t write themselves, especially when your deadlines are drawing near. You're hoping to be able to finish all your work before the next UNDEAD concert. You did promise to go support your cute little kouhais…

You rub your eyes. The spots don’t recede. You rub harder.

“Hey.” Lithe fingers wrap around your wrist and tug your hands away from your face. You blink as your view of your screen is obscured by the red-eyed gaze of your worried boyfriend (and wow, doesn’t that make your heart skip a beat? Even after so many years of dating and you’re still like a blushing kid whenever he smiles at you…).

“Hn…Nazu?”

Nazuna frowns at you. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I…” You avoid his gaze. A sheepish Tomoya and a placid Hajime smile at you out of the corner of your vision and oh. Using your beautiful boyfriend against you? That’s brutal, you think approvingly. You’ve taught them well.

Though you wish they wouldn’t use your scheming tactics against you.

“...”

Your silence is enough of an answer for him, it seems, because his frown deepens and he sighs.“Never mind,” He carefully arranges the sheets of paper scattered across your desk into some semblance of order, piling them neatly to the side. “Here~ I bought you some tea and snacks.” He places a can of cool green tea, and a box of omurice in front of you, chattering as he works. “Shiina-san was really nice about it, he even gave me a discount…you really should take better care of yourself…”

“Oh, you didn’t have to…”

“I know.” Nazuna flashes you a bright smile. “But I wanted to. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let the love of my life work themselves to death~?”

If you weren’t so sleep deprived, the casual way in which he refers to you would have made your cheeks heat up as red as a blushing schoolgirl. But your higher brain functions have effectively shut down, and you don’t really have the energy to blush, let alone think before you speak.

“God, you’re perfect.” You cup your hands around the can, and the coolness against your flushed skin is so relaxing. “Mm…just marry me already…”

“HUH!?!”

You jump, fumbling to grab the can before it spills all over your hard work, heart pounding all the while. “Wh–?”

“Nii-chan and senpai are getting married!?” Mitsuru screams. And…there go your eardrums.

Tomoya looks shell-shocked, whilst Hajime looks as though his birthday has come early. There’s a dangerous gleam in his eyes that reminds you of Eichi, and you think he’s been spending too much time around the leader of fine.

“No, no,” you attempt to do damage control, looking desperately at your boyfriend all the while, but he’s as unresponsive as Tomoya, who seems to be slowly getting his bearings. Nazuna.exe has stopped working…

“Aren’t you a little too young for marriage though, senpai?”

“No, we’re not…”

“Tsk tsk,” Hajime shakes his head disapprovingly, bulldozing over your protests. You can see the glee in his eyes, and you shudder. “Love is love, Tomoya-kun. If nii-chan and senpai want to get married, then they should get married.”

You despair. Oh, dear God, the rumours. The rumours. If half the dorm hasn’t heard of this already, you’ll eat Hajime’s hat. Mitsuru is loud loud. Rei is going to have a field day with this. That is, if Itsuki doesn’t kill you first for ‘besmirching the honour’ of his former doll… Seriously, you need to clear up this misunderstanding and fast. You have no desire to be stabbed with craft scissors. Ever.

You slam your hands onto the desk. The baby rabbits all jump, startled. Oops. “LISTEN! We are not getting married!”

“Not yet, at weast…”

You glare at Nazuna, who appears to have clocked back in to reality. Really?! The first thing he says, and it’s that? “Not helping.” You say through gritted teeth. Nazuna just smiles calmly at you.

“What, youw don’t want to mawwy me?” His stutter makes itself known, which is how you can tell he’s nervous.

You pause for a second. You’ve never really thought about it, marriage. You always wanted to stay in the present, not fixate on the past or daydream about the future. But…

When you think about it, really think about it… It sounds kind of nice, marriage to Nazuna. You imagine soft voices and soft kisses and soft love. Sharing a meal, sharing a bed, sharing a life. You imagine a large house, a dog and maybe some rabbits, filled with noise. Your baby rabbits dropping in to visit, friends checking in at odd hours. A home filled with warmth and life and love.

You want that. You want that.

You smile back at him, a little nervously. “Of course I do. If it’s with you, then I’ll always want it.”

Nazuna blinks, shocked. “O-oh.” He breathes.

You reach up and snag your fingers around his collar, tugging him closer so you can kiss him. It’s a chaste kiss, swift and feather-light–you do have an audience to be mindful of–but it’s heavy with the promise of together, as long as you’ll have me. He tastes like peach chapstick and iced tea. You pull apart, breathing slowly.

“So…youw weally wanna mawwy me…?”

You don’t really know how to explain the vision of the future that you imagine marrying Nazuna would encompass. To tell him how you feel without sounding like the protagonist of some cheesy shoujo manga.

“There’s no one else.” You say simply.

In silence, the two of you stare at each other. Marriage, huh…?

OMAKE:

“I want to be a part of the wedding!” Mitsuru proclaims, only to be shushed heavily by both Tomoya and Hajime.

“Mitsuru-kun! You ruined the moment!” Tomoya cries. Hajime smiles, a little evilly (and oh, you will be having words with Eichi for how he’s corrupted your little baby…!), and Mitsuru cowers in fear.

“I’m sorryyyyy…” He wails. Then, seeing the terrible look in Hajime’s eyes, he decides to cut his losses and escape with his life, zooming out the half-open doorway. “Dash dash ☆!”

“Don’t run away, Mitsuru-kun~” Hajime calls after him, giving chase. Tomoya heaves a tired sigh and follows suit, presumably to prevent poor Mitsuru from being dismembered horrifically.

You and Nazuna exchange a single glance before you both burst out laughing.

☆—notes!

WC: 1.1k words

so i took the idea of ‘accidental proposal’ and just…ran with it. sorry if this isn’t what u wanted :sobs: also the characters might be a little ooc bcuz im p new to enstars so my excuse is they’re all older (vague handwavey setting&timeline) and so they’ve all matured a little bit but i tried to keep to as close of their canon personalities as i could remember! still can’t believe my first fic isn’t abt chiaki but nazunyan is p cute too ig LMFAO hope u liked it lili <3, ty for requesting!!

#✒️...scribbles!#nito nazuna x reader #enstars x reader #nito nazuna #ra*bits #enstars

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somnia-project · 1 year

Text

Somnia Ch. 1 Repost

1 - Melt

[This is the First Chapter] [Next Chapter]

Words: 2,648

Rated [T+] - Here is an explanation of my rating system.

Summary: Lumine is ill-prepared for the weather in Snezhnaya. Though there are plenty of beds in Tartaglia's family's house, wouldn't it be warmer just to share?

The whole fic should have just been this old one-shot. It's been over 2 years and I'm just now getting the ball rolling on this whole thing, so it's time for a repost of the initial event that started it all.

Tartaglia lay in his childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling. It had been years since he had last slept there, and the scratching of the wool against his skin gave him a nostalgic sorrow, like he had left something behind. The other bed laid empty, another single wool blanket carefully draped over it. He put his arm over his eyes, wondering if it had been a good idea to return so soon. One day wasn’t quite enough to spend any meaningful time with his family, and he wasn’t sure if he was grateful for having any kind of time with his family or if he regretted making the trip at all. He supposed that worrying about it wouldn’t do him any good; they were leaving first thing in the morning anyway. Regardless, his restless mind was robbing him of his much needed sleep.

The sound of the bedroom door opening quietly distracted him from his thoughts. He listened as light and hurried footsteps traveled over the rug and to the other bed. The wood frame creaked under the weight of someone sitting upon it for the first time in years. A loud huff. Tartaglia could feel eyes on him. It was nearly impossible not to crack a smile, but he would pretend that he was asleep for now unless she addressed him.

"Tartaglia?"

"Lumine?" He grinned and quickly pulled his arm from his face and turned his head to look in her direction. Lumine was sitting upright on the bed, completely wrapped in the wool blanket with only her face visible, and she was pouting. Her cuteness caught him off guard and his heart may have skipped a beat or two, but he quickly regained his composure.

"It's cold," she grumbled, pulling the blanket even tighter around herself. Tartaglia laughed at such on obvious statement.

"Of course it's cold! We're in Snezhnaya. I really hope you didn't forget that somehow.” Lumine grumbled and turned her head defiantly to deflect his insult.

“Aw don’t be like that,” he sang. “You could always come over here and I'll keep you warm." He turned to his side and lifted up his own blanket flirtatiously, inviting her to share his bed.

"No!" Lumine whispered harshly. "No way! I am not sharing a bed with you!" She shook her head as she declined.

"Well I guess you'll just freeze then," Tartaglia conceded and rolled back over with an exaggerated sigh. "A shame too. How will I ever be able to explain this to the Knights of Favonius? I guess I'll just have to run away and change my identity. They'll surely come after me if they think I let something happen to you out here." The sounds of the other bed creaking, and then footsteps toward him.

Got her.

"I didn't tell them," she said. He turned to face her again, this time he was confused. What did she mean she didn’t tell them? His puzzlement must have shown on his face because she repeated it.

"I didn't tell anybody I was coming here. Not the Knights of Favonius or even the Adventurers’ Guild. Let me tell you, it was hard enough to convince Paimon to keep this just between us.” Lumine shook her head as she spoke. “It's not everyone's business what I'm doing every second of every day. I'm allowed to do things on my own, contrary to popular belief."

Her gaze was serious. He had thought that when she reluctantly agreed to come to Snezhnaya with him for leisure that it would be a one time adventure, that she only did it because she had promised Teucer. He figured she would have told each one of her friends every tiny detail about the trip as a precaution in case the Fatui made a move on her, but now he was feeling unsure of her intentions. Had she really trusted him, a Fatui Harbinger, enough to travel so far from her other friends without telling them where she was?

Tartaglia snorted, then laughed at the situation. Everyone really wanted a piece of her, didn't they? This girl who looked like a dumpling wrapped up in his brother's old wool blanket pouting at him was so important that several organizations felt the need to constantly keep tabs on her. It was only fair though, he figured. She was incredibly strong, not to mention nobody knew where she came from. She was very intriguing. He wanted to know more about her.

She sniffled. Tartaglia could see that her nose was getting red, and she kept scrunching her face like she felt a sneeze coming.

"Come on," he chuckled, "you can bring the blanket with you; just get in." Lumine glared down at him and very reluctantly sat on the edge of his bed, her back toward him. She scooted herself back on top of Tartaglia's blanket then lifted her legs into the bed and laid down, never once removing the blanket she already had around herself. He laughed.

"Well this isn't exactly what I had in mind. It's not going to make a lot of difference if you're still under just one blanket."

"Then give me both of the blankets," she mumbled.

"Now that's cold, Lumine. You would let me freeze in the night? And after my family showed you so much hospitality. Imagine how upset my poor little siblings would be to find me frozen solid in the morning: a big brosicle!"

"Argh, fine!" Lumine seemed to have finally had enough of him telling her what to do. She jumped out of the bed and threw the second blanket she had wrapped herself with onto Tartaglia's face. "Make it up however you want, just do it fast okay!"

He laughed as he sat up, grabbing the blanket and spreading it out to toss over his own to create a double layer. Once he was satisfied that it was good enough he glanced toward Lumine and saw what she was wearing. A very short, white night dress with a frilled hem and collar, the latter of which rested halfway down her shoulders, exposing bare skin as well as her collarbones. He could see how delicate her legs were beneath the hem, which only barely covered the tops of her thighs. The fabric also seemed to be quite thin; silk from Liyue perhaps? Her arms were crossed over her chest so he couldn't gauge exactly how sheer it was. Unfortunate, but he could live with the mystery for now. He grinned.

"Well no wonder you're cold," he teased her and lifted up the blankets. "Come on now before you freeze." Lumine glared down at him in contempt.

"I'm not going to do anything weird," he insisted with his sweetest smile. She lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Promise?"

"Maybe I wouldn't go that far-"

"I'm sleeping with Paimon and Tonia," Lumine said as she began to turn around.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I promise I won't do anything weird," Tartaglia urged. She pursed her lips into an unsure frown and climbed into the bed, this time facing him directly. He nearly forgot to breathe in that moment she was so close. Her toes brushed against his shin for a moment and he felt how ice cold her skin was. The sensation made him jump.

“Really? You’re not even wearing socks?” he interrogated, moving his shins further away to avoid her toes.

“I can’t sleep with them on,” she rebutted as she continued to pursue his warmth until he finally gave in to the momentary discomfort. She really hadn't prepared for this trip, had she? At least it was just a short leisure trip and she wasn't alone. Tartaglia took comfort in the fact that this exposure would better prepare her for the future.

The future… That was right.

Peaceful moments like this won’t last, he thought to himself. He had enough political knowledge to realize that the world was spinning into chaos, but not enough to know how to stop it. His folly in Liyue Harbor was proof of that. Even the man he felt he had grown close to as a friend was only using him as a pawn in a much bigger scheme, just as so many others had. It wasn’t safe to put his trust in others anymore.

Tartaglia was pulled from his thoughts when Lumine shuffled her arm to her front and placed her hand between their faces, her fingers curled except for one in particular.

"Pinkie promise me you won't do anything weird to me in my sleep."

"You really don't trust me, do you?" Is what he said, ironically, but she had to trust him to an extent. She wouldn’t be there with him in that moment otherwise.

She pushed her hand closer to his face. Lumine was really serious about a pinkie promise, wasn’t she? He was tempted to lightly nip at her finger just to get a reaction out of her, but he knew she would be furious if he did. He wasn't too keen on the idea of chasing her down in the snow in the middle of the night, so he elected not to bite her this time. He sighed with a small laugh and brought his own hand to meet hers. He hesitated at first, his heart skipping a beat when their fingers first touched.

She doesn’t know.

Of course, the traveler from another world wouldn’t have the same knowledge used to trick him over and over. Rex Lapis had fooled her just as well. Would other archons try to use her to their own ends as he and Barbatos did? Tartaglia couldn’t watch that happen.

“I’ll make this promise: I’m going to keep you safe,” he told her in a hushed voice as if any notes of affection in his tone needed to be kept secret between the two of them. “The Knights, the Guild, hell even the Liyue Qixing won’t have to worry if you’re with me. Whether it’s money or strength, you can always rely on me when you’re in need.”

“W-What the hell are you talking about?” Lumine stuttered as her face grew red. “Is this some kind of confession?”

“Hmm,” Tartaglia hummed in response. “Try not to think about it too hard.” He gave her a wink and grinned as he watch her face flush all the way to her ears. He was proud of himself that he managed to get her to make such a cute expression.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “As long as that promise includes not doing anything weird to me in the night.”

“I said I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?” A loaded promise, but in the moment he didn’t care.

“How am I supposed to know what your definition of that is?”

“I just don’t want you see you hurt,” he confessed. Lumine’s expression softened into a more serious gaze.

“Just stick with promising me only for tonight, all right?” she sighed.

“All right,” Tartaglia replied to her with a tender smile. In his heart he knew he would promise more, however. He wanted to be by her side more than just a night.

"You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life," he started.

"You break a pinkie promise," Lumine continued and narrowed her eyes, "I throw you on the ice." Their little fingers wrapped around each other.

"The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend." He tightened his grip, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. He wondered if she noticed how fast his heart was beating, and if hers may have been as well.

"The frost will freeze your tongue off, so you never lie again." They unclasped their little fingers and let their hands rest between them, not quite touching, but Tartaglia could start to feel her body heat under the blankets.

"Feeling warmer now that you're with me?" he asked with a smug grin. Lumine nodded and let out a small, breathy yawn that tugged on his heart strings. He wished he could fall asleep as fast as she did. Now that she had fallen asleep, laying next to her made him even more anxious. Every time she let out a deep breath he held his, unsure of what to do. Of course he knew he should just close his eyes and go to sleep, but he couldn't stop looking at her. She looked so small and calm, unlike the fury and excitement she radiated while awake. Tartaglia liked this side of her too. He stroked her arm with the tips of his fingers, feeling the warmth radiating off her skin, the sensation making his heart beat faster. He had promised he wouldn't do anything weird, but he still wasn't sure what Lumine's definition of weird could be. She stirred in her sleep, startling him to pull his hand away from her. It may have been just a nursery rhyme, but he knew Lumine would literally cut his tongue out if he broke his promise.

He held his breath, waiting for her to wake up and scold him, but she didn't open her eyes. Instead she moved even closer to him. One of her legs slid between his, which in turn caused her dress to ride up and expose her abdomen to his own bare stomach. Her hand slid over his navel and reached around to his back under his shirt. The sensation of her smooth skin sent what felt like a bolt of lightning through his body, though somehow far different from any electro powers he’d used. Her face was only inches away from his. Lumine was so close to him that he couldn't breathe for fear of waking her. Yet, the anxiety he felt was invigorating. It was a new and foreign kind of excitement to him that he never even dreamed of experiencing. In fact, he'd never given any thought at all to this kind of intimacy with another person. Lumine. Her thoughts, her feelings, and her body; they were a whole new battlefield for him, one he wasn't sure if he could ever conquer, but that made the idea all the more exciting.

Tartaglia's breath finally escaped his lungs, involuntarily shaky and vocal. He moved his tongue around inside his mouth to get rid of the dryness that had taken hold. Luckily the cold had made it so he wasn't sweating from all of the new sensations he was experiencing. He was starting to feel lightheaded from all of the times he'd held his breath, but that in turn with their combined body heat had also started to make him finally feel sleepy. His breath steadied and Tartaglia was finally starting to relax. Lumine was definitely fast asleep, and it didn't look like she was going to wake up to any small movements he made. He decided that wrapping arms around each other wasn't anything weird and moved his arm to cradle her back.

He already knew that he liked her. Since the moment he'd met her he had wanted to be involved in her life, and fighting her had brought him exhilaration he could have only dreamed of. Now he felt that they could have something even more. Lumine was in his home, in his bed with him, the rest of his family sleeping soundly within the house. She didn't belong and yet she fit in so well. He didn't want to let her go. If they could lie there and hold each other forever he might even have been happy with just that. The tiredness was finally beginning to take over. He was as relaxed as he had ever been in her embrace.

Tartaglia shifted to grace Lumine's forehead with a long and chaste kiss, holding her body against his own. He rested his forehead against hers, and finally he was able to let sleep take him.

#genshin impact #fanfiction #chilumi #no i have not re-read this or edited it in a very long time and i'm not going to 🤡#sharing a bed #lumi is COLD #childe tartaglia #lumine

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thearchivistsjournal · 11 months

Text

Day 364,

Author's Note/Content Warnings: A funeral. Anxiety. Pushing away loved ones. Fear of death.

Mists are out. Good thing I didn’t go home last night. Surprised I got up before Cass showed up. Surprised I slept so well last night. Time to prepare for the funeral.

*******

I’m back home as I write this. It was stupid of me to make the walk back that late in the evening with the mists so thick, but I wanted to be where you could reach me tonight, just in case. Of course, I say “you” assuming that you’re invisibly reading over my shoulder as I write. Or else that you’ll read this the next time I step out of the room or lay in bed trying to sleep.

Cass arrived at the library shortly after I made my last entry. She asked me how I was doing and I said I was better than I expected. She told me that Norman and Marva had offered to let me spend the night at their place and I said that I appreciated the offer and would think about it. I avoided anything that would bring the topic back up for the rest of the day.

There was a slightly smaller turnout for this funeral than for Miranda’s, but certainly more than Bartolome’s. Niobe. Ka’ena. Ka��ena’s son, whose name I’m sure I have written down somewhere but can’t remember right now. Huan. Lin. Maiko, in a white dress that someone had managed to find her a fit for. Various friends of the deceased that hadn’t yet grown old enough to return to the Catacombs themselves. A handful of assorted villagers whose lives he had touched in one way or another. Vernon as the presiding mediator. Pat.

And me, there to observe, not mourn.

It’s funny, I’d thought for sure that this time I would feel something - anything - having actually personally known Ka’eo to some degree, but I didn’t. No sadness. No grief. No regret. Not even the usual awkwardness at being out of place taking notes at a funeral or fearful distraction thinking about what tonight may bring. And it wasn’t a sense of numbness or emptiness either, because even those are still something, albeit they're somethings largely defined by a lack of anything else. No, it just felt - for lack of a better word - normal. Just another day of doing ordinary, mundane things. Wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, record a funeral. Not calm so much as “eh, well, this is a thing that is happening I guess.”

Maybe I’m just broken like that.

Even Maiko, understated as she normally is, showed more emotion than I did. She actually went so far as to join in the eulogizing, thanking the old blacksmith for the tools he “gave” her mother that helped keep the two of them alive in her youth. I expected that particularly confession/revelation to send murmurs throughout the crowd, but the respectful silence reigned. There will be time enough in the coming weeks for gossip.

Speaking of Maiko, after the service she and Lin approached me and asked if I wanted them to camp out in the archive with me so I wouldn’t have to be alone tonight. Or I could stay up in the lighthouse with them if I preferred. Was it really that obvious how worried I’ve been the past couple of weeks? I thought I suppressed it better than that. Or maybe they just know me well enough by now to figure out that I was but was hiding it.

I thanked them for the offer and told them that I’d already received an invitation to spend the night at Norman and Marva’s. I told myself that it wasn’t a lie because I hadn’t said that I’d accepted the invitation. But it was. Intentionally implying an untruth is still a lie.

I lied to my friends.

I didn’t linger to view the body this time. I’d met Ka’eo. Drunk of his memories. This was just an empty shell he’d left behind, not him. There was little for me to gain from it.

Paperwork and record management with the presiding mediator followed. There wasn’t all that much to deal with given that Niobe was still alive and living in the same house and Ka’ena had already taken over as Village blacksmith. Also, I suspect Vernon may have lightened the load for my sake.

Once we were done, Vernon asked me to spend the night with him tonight. Not an offer. Not an invitation. A request.

I almost said yes.

I pretended not to notice the distinction.

I said I appreciated the sentiment, thanked him, and said that like the time he made that offer following the last funeral I can probably get through things just fine with a familiar bed and the artifact blanket. I always have so far.

He asked me if I was sure.

Sure enough.

He asked if, in that case, I wouldn’t mind him at least walking back with me to the library.

I gave him that much.

We talked about lighter things along the way. It was nice. Nice enough that we wound up going inside together and sitting down to talk more. Long and rambling conversation, aimlessly drifting from topic to topic about everything and nothing.

I was happy.

I noticed the mists dimming to a darker shade of grey outside and voiced the observation that he’d need to leave soon if he was going to get home safely before dark.

An expression flashed across his face (embarrassment? regret? guilt?) and he admitted the truth of that statement, gathered himself up, and moved to the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob and turned back to me. He said that just because I could “get through things just fine” on my own, that doesn’t mean I have to or should. That it’s okay to admit when I’m scared or hurt. I have people that care about me and they want to help.

I said I know.

He told me to look deep down and ask myself if I really, truly thought I’d be better off, or even just alright, alone tonight. If I did, then he’d let it drop and leave, no offense taken. If not, he’ll stay as long as I need, no matter how bad it gets, and he’d find it worth it.

He’s good like that.

I lied.

He moved to hug me goodbye.

I flinched.

He apologized and left.

I managed to hold in my tears until Vernon had disappeared from sight of the window.

Why am I like this? Everyone always does so much for me and I barely do anything for any of them. I can’t even do them the courtesy of letting them help me when they want to, I’m so selfish. I don’t deserve any of them.

And I’m doing it again. I need to stop writing those kinds of things. Thinking that way isn’t healthy, and I know it’s not true. I know I need to change that. And I want to think I’ve been working on it. Getting better. Slowly. I truly want to believe that I’ll get there someday.

Maybe if all this had happened a season or two later I would have been able to let myself accept those offers for help. Maybe I even would have been able to ask for help.

But too little too late now. I’m back home, the shades are already out, and I’ve cut myself off from everyone.

No, that’s not quite right. Everyone but you, if you’re here. If you’re reading this. Maybe I have gotten just that tiny bit better. I did go to someone for help in the end instead of locking myself up in my dark little hole in the archive. I came to you. Of course I came to you. You know me better than anyone one, in your strange way. In a way, I met you before I met anyone other than Pat. And who better to seek aid and comfort with supernatural dreams than a super natural sprite?

Maybe I am broken on some level, but broken things can be fixed. It just takes time and effort. Sometimes a great length of time and a great deal of effort. But small steps at a time.

Thank you for being that small step for me.

And, really, I’m probably getting worked up about this over nothing. Sure, they’re scary, and impossibly vivid, but at the end of the night, they’re still just dreams that have never hurt me in the waking world beyond shaking me up a bit. I’ve gotten through them all before, what makes tonight so special? Maybe those other outsiders that Theo talked about just didn’t have friends to help them through it.

On an only tangentially related note, it just occurred to me that I forgot to compile the notes from the funeral into the official record. Eh, I’ll get it tomorrow.

*******

I can’t get to sleep.

I’m scared.

Will you hold me again?

Will you sing me to sleep?

Please.

Where are you?

<==Previous Next==>

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inaworldlikethis52 · 1 year

Text

Another day, another day of confusion. I always think I messed things up. But communication and most importantly understanding is important. If we’re communicating something with each other and I’m not fully understanding what you mean or vice versa, we do need to talk about it better.

I do believe I understand where he’s coming from. He has A LOT to work on. From being away from this environment for over a year, things changed. He’s a different person and I can see it. His mom passed away and I know he still grieving over that loss. He’s also trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life - get a job, or go to school , or even go away again.

Im trying really hard to give him his space and time to think about all of that. He knows how I feel about him which now I’m glad I told him. He may not have time for a relationship with me and that’s fine, bc we still need to work on things between us and get to know each other again. I get that I’m not the main priority in his life, but I just hope there are no other girls that have his attention over me. Bc that would really hurt, especially now since we are sleeping together.

My regret is that I should have taken a step back a bit, not trying to confirm plans and times. But it’s frustrating when we do come up with plans and then he cancels, something comes up, he’s running late. All signs that tells me he’s not fully interested. Yes, he’s said in the past like he wants to hang out, he’ll try to get out early from work bc he wants to chill with me. It’s nice to hear that, but it’s actions to me. Obviously if you can’t get out of work early enough it’s fine, but maybe tell me? But if this is his way of communicating, and man do I tell you it’s a lot to get used to, then I will have to let it be. Let him come to me. No more reaching out as much as I want to and as much as I’m a “text /call them if you want to person”

I feel like calling him to see if he wanted to grab breakfast was the wrong move. At the time I thought it was cute and fun but since he just woke up he’s was like wth that’s random. But how many times have we texted our friends or family last minute asking if they wanted to grab food lol. I didn’t find it weird or awkward especially since he has said in past he doesn’t like making plans. Then I tried to push, yeah I admit, to just stopping by his house. I like him, I wanna see him to me it makes sense. He wasn’t feeling it.

I also brought up those Christmas lights ideas for a thing we could do and tbh I didn’t fully realize he wasn’t into it at all lol. So when I got home I sent him screen shots of different events not even knowing he didn’t want to go. And honestly I’ve been to these light shows, they’re not amazing but it’s just something to do lol. He seemed really against it so idk if something triggered him lol. And I brought it up on Monday for an idea but I personally said nvm bc it’s just too cold for it but I’d still be down though if he was like you know what we can see it.

but I’m the phone last night, which idk if things are ruined again. He was literally straight forward on not wanting to see them lmfao. And I literally was like ok man like we can forget about it ! Like obviously I didn’t know you really didn’t want go to, I wouldn’t have send the screen shots and said we should go LOL but then I just asked like well what else could we do? And that’s when he said he really hasn’t thought about it, it’s not on his mind it’s not a priority. He also has other things on his mind so plans with me aren’t his top priority. But really, don’t tell me you want to spend time alone or you want to meet some place other than your house to hang out and not think of plans. Actions, man. I came up with ideas lol. He shots them down. He doesn’t even want to go out to eat. Idk if it’s bc he just doesn’t have a job and maybe can’t afford to do that. It just makes me feel he doesn’t actually want to hang out with me and he just wants to mess around. And if that’s the case as I’ve said many times before, he should just say that. Is it going to hurt my feelings? Most likely. Tbh I already know I’m going to get really hurt.

If he decides he doesn’t want to see me anymore, then the way he should go about it is telling me in person. If he texts me saying like “I really thought about this but I need time to focus on myself” I’ll be more upset lol.

He’s gonna text me at some point this weekend with either plans or canceling and man, the anxiety. If he cancels I need to just say “ok” or even not reply. I also 10000000 percent CANNOT text him to see if plans are on/off. This was my main issue. Let’s me strong Charlene. 😭

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cloudedmist · 1 year

Text

Found a correlation and a lesson learnt

I rebooked my life since last night… yes couldn’t sleep again. All the hurt pent up in me. I may be innocent. I know that.. but the police do not, the lawyers do not. But before I die, I want to at least make things clear. So my soul leaves this earth knowing I have done my best and should have no regrets at all. 1. My intention and hopes I had a tough childhood. No toys, going through a long dumb 3 page terms and condition sheet just to own a handphone, every study on the computer would be pounded as “playing game” on computer. Even since primary school, in primary 1, my Chinese teacher threw a lie about me, just because my parents happened to be on-site and around the vicinity, and she saw them going past the class. Even in sec 4, as I shared earlier before, Marc Lee threw a paper ball at me during teacher greeting, I picked up the ball, and placed it back on the table, and that movement caused the teacher to scold me in class. Marc added on a playful lie, shouting “he was throwing paper ball at me”, and Mrs Low the physics teacher believed him and scolded me further. After school, I was at the staff room looking for another teacher, when Mrs Low opened the staff room door. Looking at me, she commented loudly… this boy is very naughty… during my class, he was throwing paper ball at his classmate. All these hurt, I kept to myself, as in all matters of pain and hurt… How has this shaped my life? Since young, my intention was to build up the young and to help them as much as possible, so none of them would have to face the pain I faced - that is, not being able to afford little things they like in life, not being trusted when others lie about them, not having proper support because everyone would blame them for things they didn’t do. This remained consistent through the years, and that is why I invested most of my finance to helping people I meet in life. What was my hope then? Beyond helping them, my hope was to create a community that gives back. To help others, and to help support each other, in business, future, life. In analogy, to create a spring board that will help others accelerate in strength and gain a strong future, so they can turn back and give back to society, and me. Following this, one can now understand why I would wake at 430am/5am, just to go down to wake people up to get to school on time, fetch them to school, direct them to study, spend time teaching them in every subject I could possible, cooking for them good food, teaching them what their mindset should be moving forward… Today, I also realise that people are selfish. Yes I know many people told me this before… but i refused to believe. I always thought… if you help someone, why would the person just go off leaving you behind? Just didn’t make sense to me. Well.. now I know.. they will, because their new found wings give them courage to face new challenges, and this includes new interest and activities, and these activities and interest, very often, cannot be known from young, because the just pop up in one’s life, and it forms as a new interest. This is why friends make and break consistently through life… People switch interest, and mix with new friends who have that set of new found interest. They do it until they get tired chasing new interests, and having to spend years learning something new, and not getting good at any particular interest.

2. Types of allegation thrown

On my first hit, I thought of the question… But i had no way to confirm. But over time, I realise a pattern can be constructed.

The question is… why do people use sexual issues as an allegation? Simply put, 2 reasons… a) because it is the only way to get someone in deep shit. What else can get someone in equal crap? - Drugs, but it is much harder to prove. And if the police checks the CCTV communication with Callistar Chen Zhi Bin’s mother, they will know, she used both methods to try to take me down. First she tried convincing them that chocolate dip sticks were drugs. The police plied the bag and then told her it was not. Then she changed her story and said I had sexual misconduct and raped her child - back then the not yet brain washed or not yet innate liar Callistar Chen Zhi Bin told the police, nothing of this sort had happened. She then told the whole family that she found a 6 inch pubic hair in her room, and that it must have been mine. (And this happened when she locked her room door everyday so Callistar Chen Zhi Bin could only live in the living room or other side room adjacent to the main room). All these lies must have mounted over the years in the vile mind of Callistar Chen Zhi Bin, and when an NPD’s/YPS age strikes, the character and mind takes a sudden extreme turn. They wake up entirely different, and they wake up with a set mind to be above others, and to win others. This has happened so many times. This also explains why Callistar Chen Zhi Bin’s friends would attack him day and night i hate. Back then, I couldn’t understand why. I supported him regardless (reason explained in part 1). I supported him, and trusted him when he said he didnt do anything wrong. Today, on looking back, I believe he was engulfed in all sorts of wrong, and that was why his friends hated him - From primary school to secondary school.

b) It is an allegation used by all, if not most, divorced parent. I noticed this over time. I’ve taught many people in life. Most are still friends till today. Some in NS, some in poly, some in sec school, some in pri school. And all these come from complete families. Families who have a father, and a mother, and these parents do care about their children (not the kind who just ignores what their children do). That is what I figured after much thinking. Nonetheless, it also helps me to understand a question I had always pondered about since young… Why would people come together to divorce? Which came first? Bad character or divorce - did people who have bad lying character end up in divorce? Or did divorce turn them to liars to survive?

My experience and answer is… Divorce people have genes which they pass down to the next generation. (This is why once 13, Callistar Chen Zhi Bin instinctively told me he just wanted to punch something or someone. It felt irritable and heating inside that he could not hit something). I also notice that divorce children tend to elicit NPD behaviours. I once also read that there was no conclusion, but researches did note a correlation between children from divorced families, and narcissistic behaviours. And this blows up and is more visible at the age of 14-15/some 16. Where the NPD will become aggressively manipulating, and use methods such as love bombing/acting to control the people around them. Putting this together implies to me that divorce people have bad genes, that is passed down to the next generation. The next generation repeats ill behaviours of aggressive competitiveness, lying, manipulation, and control. After time, the victim learns and finds out that they are always falling into a loop on control, and so turns mentally crazy, only seeking ways to escape the torture. So it leads to divorce. The single mum will then enjoy alimony, and often find a temple or church, because that is where they find comfort, protection, and freebies from time to time. Very often, they will tell their child how evil the father is and how everything is the father’s fault, hiding the evil truth, and convincing their child they are the great ones who should be supported financially in the future. Before the age of 14/15/16, the child is always good, more perfect than the usual child, and highly intelligent (in terms of information absorption). Once 14/15/16 hits, the child wakes up with a brain change, and starts being aggressively manipulative, a good liar, and elicit the common habits of npds/yps/piercing/tattoo/smoking/vaping. The cycle then repeats. So gene lead character created the divorce, and people see them as the poor thing ones, raining them with concern and love. The cycle continues.

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bloodycassian · 3 years

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Reader x Cassian - Hellish Prompt: Reader is an assassin/spy that was caught and azriel has spent months torturing her for information and can’t get anything out of her and cassian eventually goes to see who this assassin/spy is and the mating bond snaps and cassian beats the $hitt out of az bc of the mating bond instincts and rhys has to intervene and break up the fight (i was thinking this could switch between azriel’s POV at the start and then switch to cassian's POV)

AN- this was SO fun to make. Please more requests like this!! I love the idea of unexpected mates!

TW -blood/ blades.

Drip, drip, drip. Copper smell filled the small room. Blood leaked down the drain in the floor. You wheezed a laugh bitterly and spat on the ground at his feet. Azriel's rage simmered calmly under his dark shadows. They coiled, ready to strike. Wanting to strike. The sound of your feeble laughs was practically the only sound Azriel had gotten from you for the first week of torture. The second week was worse, even for him. Truth teller revealed nothing when he gouged into your skin from the bottom up. Truthfully, he was impressed beyond measure. But that didnt mean that he could stop the job at hand. He had to know, and wished he didnt have to do this kind of thing to get the information from you. "Listen..." He sighed, cleaning his blade. He was always nervous whenever he had a back turned to an enemy, no matter how well they were restrained. But he trusted his shadows enough to tell him if something was wrong. "If you just.. Cooperate and tell me where the Queens are, we can let you go. No trouble, just releasing you back to Rask." He tried to keep his tone neutral, but he was nearing an exhaustion point. Torture every day for two weeks had its toll not only on the victim, but the dealer as well. His shadows seemed to be growing restless too, waiting for a chance to strike. He watched your reaction from the corner of his eye. Noted the way your head hanging loosely seemed to gain a bit more strength before you spoke. "Losing your touch, Spymaster?" You revealed a row of bloody teeth to him, and grunted when the chains at your wrists stung the magic that weakly attempted to help you. Azriel could have sighed. He could have laughed and bled you dry. Have a healer come and patch you up enough to keep you alive. The idea was tempting, but he didn't like having anyone besides his brothers see him in this mode of darkness. He could have brought Rhys down to attempt to break into your mind again. After the first attempt and Rhys' reaction to being blocked, he wasn't eager for that again. So he sighed, and brought out the potions laced with Faebane. + He was convinced you weren't a normal Fae. After months of his best torture methods he was a wreck. "She just-" He tried to hide his frustration, but his brothers knew him best. Cassian smirked by the fire, warming his wings. Rhys seemed a bit more concerned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Azriel had never been one to spend a long time on torture. Rhys saw the frustration flowing from him after every session with the stubborn Fae in the dungeon cell. "I dont know what to do anymore. She's the only one to have never broken." He ran a hand though his hair. His shadows seemed weak, exhausted like him. Rhys considered for a moment, looking between his two brothers. Cassian seemed to be enjoying Azriel's frustration. Maybe a bit too much. Rhys sipped his wine then, with a look of innocence, "Maybe we will have Cassian end it. Perhaps seeing the Lord of Death in front of her will knock something loose." Cassian's stare whipped to him, a silent plea on his face. "We should leave it to our expert Rhys-" Azriel laughed, cold and bitter. "The expert hasn't got a damn thing out of her. We either kill her or send her back to Rask with all the information she's collected about us. With nothing in return." Shame lined his features. The sense of failure to his high lord was a heavy weight to bear. "Cas...I expect you down there tomorrow afternoon. It will be her last chance." Rhys' no nonsense tone shut down Cassian's retort. His jaw locked with distaste. He hated the cramped cells below the house of wind. Hated the way going underground made his wings feel like they needed to stretch. The worst was when that stale air was laced with the rotting smell of dead mice or old blood. It made his skin crawl just thinking about it. "Come on Cas, dont you want to see the only one that's outlasted me?" Az asked with a mock grin. He couldn't give the same smile back. Turmoil spilled inside him at the thought of going so far below the mountain. + Cassian took a long time to go to bed that night. His restlessness about the next day made him wake up over and over, never having more than an hour of peace before being waken up. Azriel held up a mug of tea to him the next morning. "You look like shit." He handed his brother the mug with a small smile. Cassian glared at him, but took it anyway. He went to the balcony, his heavy wings needing to feel the fresh air. It was like taking a bath after being covered in grime. He sighed in relief, letting the late morning sun graze his body. The cold wind from Illyria was beginning to come in for the winter, and the familiar smell ignited something in him. He felt a draw, but shoved it to the back of his mind. He knew what he had to be this day. "Why the hell do we have to keep them so far down again?" Cassian complained. Around and around and around. Down deeper and deeper into the pit of the mountain that the house above was carved out of. Cassian felt like his lungs were collapsing the further they went. He tried not to let his nerves show, but he knew Az's shadows would pick up on it anyway. "Remember when you broke your arm chasing down that Attor?" Azriel could have laughed at that memory, but the story surrounding it made the experience soured. More shame on top of the guilt already there. Cassian hummed in approval, welcoming the distraction the memory brought. He tried not to focus on how each turn of the staircase got darker and darker. How the air seemed to compress around him. He locked his eyes on the scar on one of Az's wings. "And we spent a week fixing the top story of that apothecary?" He asked, keeping his voice steady. "Yes. Dont you remember how the Attor got out?" Cassian shook his head, and Azriel huffed a laugh. "I left the door open for just a second to get a new knife and..." He shook his head, part in anger and regret, part in shame. "It had escaped before I turned around. I dont know how it happened, to this day." Cassian stared at the back of the shadowmaster's head. The dark ripples around him seemed to spike. "It happens Az, you can't be perfect." "It's not perfection, its basic thought. After that we moved all enemies to the lower dungeons. No matter the threat. Rhys even put wards on the arches." He ran a hand over the walls, his fingers catching a few of the grooves that linked each spelled archway to the other. Cassian left the conversation at that. At least his brother wasn't brooding as much as before. The dim lights began to come into view, and his heart began hammering. Adrenaline singing through his veins. His polished siphons glowed, reflecting red off the dark stone ceiling. He had polished all his black armor the night before, when he couldn't sleep. Something poked, prodded at him all night. Keeping him awake. He figured he may as well make use out of it. "She's not going to talk to you unless you show..weakness first." Azriel said in a low voice. Cassian nodded, reaching the end of the stairwell with him. Cassian couldn't see the dark figure in the cell, but he felt the presence nonetheless. The dark draw that you demanded. He wondered how Azriel had dealt with that pull this whole time. The tantalizing draw to you. He shook his head, pushed the hair out of his face and nodded to Azriel. He opened the door, then began his ritual. At the start of every session he would toss a bucket of water over your body, then a bucket of salt. It made the wounds that handn't healed fully scream in pain. You jolted at the suddenness of it this time. "Good morning, shadowsinger." You ground out, voice rough with strain. Cassian watched in awe at his brother. Cassian was never one for torture. There was a reason Azriel was appointed to this position. Watching the calm cruelness of him was jarring, but Cassian kept his face straight. He stood behind you, watching the flimsy attempts to pull at the shackles holding your arms up. Lacerations dotted each arm, some light pink scars. Some were still scabbing over. A chill ran down his spine. "You have a guest today, would you like to see him?" Azriel's voice was cool, calm. Like he was speaking orders to a group of soldiers. He began slicing new lines into your arms, moving up to your neck. He had left your ears in tact, as a last resort if you refused to speak to Cassian. The pull Cassian felt was overwhelming. He walked a bit too quickly around you, plastered on a wicked smile for show, then crouched down. The smile faded when he finally saw your face. Your dripping hair was a horror on its own. Plastered to the skeletal cheekbones, and pale eyes. Those eyes were brighter than anything he'd ever seen. A field of flowers down the slope of Illyrian mountains. His world shifted, drawing the breath from him. "Mine." His mind seemed to roar with that alone, but in a thousand different variations. "Lover, friend, partner, mine mine mine. Mate. My mate." His lips quivered with the realization. With the way his heart soared, and the way he moved without realizing it. He choked a gasp, and fell forward on his knees before you. He saw the same astonishment in your reaction. Azriel dropped his sword, confusion and concern alert on his features. "Cas wh-" Before he could finish, before his shadows could detect that Cassian had even moved, his brother was on top of him. Cassian's knuckles stung with every punch. A new kind of rage flared inside him. It made his muscles yearn for violence. Made his teeth crave the flesh of those that so much as looked at you wrong. There was no mercy for Azriel, it was as if he was an enemy on the battlefield. Cassian held nothing back. You hung limply from the chains that bound you. Crunch after crunch sounded from Azriel. He eventually managed to push Cassian off of him. Then they locked together in battle again. Clashes of armor against armor were deafening. The snarls they ripped at each other were loud enough to make you cringe. Your heart squeezed at the sounds of Cassian's breath. At the scent of blood spilling. You pulled feebly at the chains, your mind roaring to protect him. Your mate. You tried to watch the battle, but the weakness in your body refused to let you turn more than a few inches. They were panting, Cassian fighting with a ferocity Azriel had never seen. His eyes flared with rage, like he was possessed. "Cas-" Azriel grunted, shoving his brother backwards. His back hit yours, pushing you down and digging those stone cuffs into your wrists. You hissed in pain. Cassian roared and lunged at his brother again, and again. The darkness that boomed outside the cell was jarring. The stone ceiling shuddered, small rocks and dirt falling from it. Cassian did not stop. He didn't hesitate, coming at Azriel with punch after punch. His fist crushed the wall behind where Az's head had been.

"Enough." The high lord's cool command was enough to make you still your weak attempts at looking at the two. Cassian's chest heaved as he tried lifting his arm to punch Az again. Pure fury in his heart was enough to make him disobey Rhysand's order.

Then Rhys' talons gripped him. Freezing his mind, stilling him. Rhys' face shifted to surprise at what he glimpsed at there. "Oh.." He breathed. Azriel panted, backing away from his brother, out of the cell. He locked the cell and wiped the blood from himself, his wings hanging limply behind him. "What- the hell." He panted, nursing his arm. Cassian's eyes locked to your small frame. How your muscles quivered, how your arms shook with the effort of holding yourself up. He felt Rhys' claws recede slowly from his mind, releasing each part of him one by one. He rushed to you. He picked up Azriel's sword and with a clean, masterful swipe, broke the enchanted stone that bound you. The weak sigh that came from you was heartbreaking. His eyes pricked with tears, and he caught you before you could fall to the floor into the puddle of dried blood. He didnt notice, or care that it was there. He sat there with you, cradled you and shook with you.

"Cassian... She's.. Cassian's mate." Rhys said slowly, astonished. He didn't take his eyes from his brother in the cell. Azriel froze in place. For a moment, the dungeon was completely still. Totally silent, as if the world waited for what was to come next.

Azriel turned on a heel and left, trudging up the stairs. Rhys dared not touch his mind. "Cassian...." He spoke, trying to get his brother's attention. He did not glance at Rhys, just curled around your body more. Protecting, nesting almost. Rhys knew the feeling too well from the weeks after he and Feyre's bond snapped into place. "We will check in tomorrow. Be safe, brother." Rhys spoke to Cassian's mind. It was nothing but an ocean of rushing thoughts. Cassian could have bared his teeth, could have tried to fight his brother through the bars of the cell. Hell, he could have probably broken through those bars with the primal strength flowing through him with the rush from the bond.

But he didn't. He stayed, his warm body pressed against yours. Those siphons glowing against your skin like a fire. He stroked your hair soothingly, his tears like rainfall on your body, through your bloodstained clothes. He didn't remember falling asleep there, but it was the most restful, peaceful night he'd ever had in his existence.

#acotar #acotar fic #reader x cassian #cassian fic #cassian #azriel mention rhys mention #cassian x reader

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versadies · 3 years

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Hey hey!! I've been following you for a while now and I love your work sm aaa

Saw the event, I love soulmate au's 😩‼ as a gemini, may I request a gemini prompt + kaeya? Up to you who the enemy is, I trust you ^ ^

-🦚 @pavo-ocell-me

someday, one day (hc scenario)

penpal: omg hi !! im glad u love my work, i hope this is to ur liking 🙌

prompt: gemini the twins, enemy-lover soulmate au

pairing/s: kaeya x gn!reader

sypnosis: when you thought he was your enemy but is actually your lover.

includes: spoilers on diluc and kaeya's backstory, spoilers on genshin's official webtoon, violence, physical pain, burns, arguing, enthusiastic!diluc (pls take note that its canon that he USED to be like all the other pyro characters b4 his father's death.),

when you first met diluc, it felt like he was your knight in shining armor.

the first time you two met was when you accidentally fell down from your balcony after leaning too much on the railing and diluc managed to catch you bridal-style whilst he was on patrol around the city as a knight.

it truly was romantic– and a near-death experience for you.

so when you found out that his name is imprinted on your wrist, you felt ecstatic, and so did he.

since then, you two were known as the youngest soulmates who had found each other in mondstadt, people admiring your relationship with envy and happiness.

of course, you and diluc were a happy couple. although you would be lying if you said diluc is overall your type, you managed to find yourself falling in love with the man.

when crepus, diluc's father, found out about diluc's once-in-a-lifetime moment, he simply laughs and pats you and his son by your backs with a proud smile.

"by the time my son turns 18, we better make arrangements of your wedding! it's a ragnvindr tradition, after all." he comments eagerly. you honestly weren't sure if the man was joking or not.

it didn't take long before you meet his dear brother, kaeya.

when you find out his brother's name is the same as the one that's imprinted on your other wrist, being surprised is far from your reaction.

"don't worry about it, y/n." diluc reassures you one night as the two of you stroll around the city together. "i'll make sure nothing will go wrong between you and my brother. besides, you always have me, right?"

if diluc hadn't tried what he said, perhaps things would've gone differently than now.

in fear of being enemies with your future brother-in-law, you decided to avoid kaeya like a plague, giving the young man apologetic looks whenever you walk away from his presence.

as much as you're avoiding the man, you couldn't imagine hating on kaeya. every night, you always think of what can make kaeya your enemy. what is there to hate him? he's funny, chivalrous, everything that screams your type of men.

wait.. type?

your heart drops from the moment you started thinking romantic things about diluc's brother, looking behind you to see your soulmate sleeping soundly with a frown plastered on your face.

is diluc really your lover?

doubts started to cross your mind. what if diluc isn't your soulmate? what is there to prove that kaeya is your enemy? are you just overthinking things?

"i can't think about this." you murmured to yourself, pulling up your comforter before laying back down on your bed and try to fall asleep.

"i have a wedding to worry about next year."

just as you said, you did try not to think about the possibilities you have with the two brothers, distracting yourself with tasks and dates with your lover, who's quite oblivious to your problems going on inside your head.

unnoticed by you, you weren't the only one who has been burdened with your thoughts.

by the time diluc's birthday has arrived, the two of you started to get excited from your future wedding, excited to finally marry each other after years of spending your adolescence together.

you didn't expect an inconvenience during diluc and crepus's trip.

you didn't expect crepus trying to save diluc from a monster using something that no one but snezhnaya has ever heard of.

you didn't expect crepus asking diluc to put him out of his misery.

you didn't expect diluc to come strolling back to your shared home with blood stained in his clothing at a late hour.

you never, ever, expected your lover to fight his own brother when he took a visit.

and you did not expect your lover to plan on leaving you and everyone.

"what do you mean you're... you're leaving?" you ask in disbelief, staring at diluc as though he has two heads. "can't i go with you–?"

"no, this journey will be too dangerous for you–"

"this applies to you as well! you're not an immortal or some god–"

"i can do this on my own, y/n." he says with his eyes narrowed. you couldn't help but scoff in disbelief. this isn't the diluc you know and loved.

"but diluc.. isn't this too much? your father... i know crepus's death is too much but, why can't you stay?" you whispered, cupping his cheeks. "what about our wedding? the life you and i planned after your bi–"

"my father died and you're seriously thinking about our wedding?!" diluc forces your hands away from his face, glaring at you. "why can't you understand that i'm trying to find out the truth on this delusion–"

"i do understand!" you yelled out. "i do understand that you want to do this for him but what about monstadt? the knights? what about your brother–"

"HE'S NOT MY BROTHER!" he yelled, lashing out at you as you screamed in surprise when you saw fire in front of you, immediately covering your face with your arms out of reflex.

you didn't notice how your lover's eyes widens on what he did,

you couldn't notice him, not when you're too focused on the huge burns on your arms.

"oh my god..." diluc murmurs, slowly taking a few steps back as he takes a look of what he did, ignoring the sudden presence of adelaide and elzer, who both gasped from the scene.

your eyes starts to water from the intense pain, trying not to cry out and scream your heart out in fear of making your lover feel regret. you could honestly care less on what diluc is doing, all you could think about was the intense burns from your arms.

suddenly, the door was slammed open by kaeya– who was wet from the rain outside.

"what the hell did you do to them?!" kaeya exclaims, running towards you with a shocked look on his face. "i'll take you to the cathedral alright? the sisters will heal you." he whispers, wiping off the tears from your face as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and takes you towards the doors.

before diluc could let out a word from his mouth, kaeya gives him a glare.

"you may hate me for what happened," kaeya says.

"but for celestia's sake, don't ever come to them or call them your lover ever again."

that was the last time you saw diluc.

you eventually find out from the chattering nuns that the man had already left monstadt with no news of when he'll return, causing everyone to pity you and for diluc about what happened.

you were thankful that no one except the nuns found out about the incident of your arms.

throughout your stay in the cathedral, you usually find kaeya beside you, keeping an eye on you with a concerned look on his face. you honestly couldn't imagine what would've happened if the man didn't storm inside dawn winery. would diluc actually try to help you later on and leave? would you have suffered more with your injuries as he stands by watching you in disbelief?

whatever outcome you could think of, your heart ached from them all.

would diluc stayed had he been the one who tries to take care of your injuries?

either way, you knew the man is no longer the one you fell in love with from those years ago.

as years grew by, so did your friendship with kaeya.

although it was awkward from the start, you eventually warmed up to the man who you thought is your enemy, feeling more comfortable with him than before.

the two of you started having careers by then, with you having a successful career whilst kaeya becomes the calvary captain of the knights of favonius.

although the two of you are busy, you agreed to always meet each other at night in angel's share, where you drink the night away and talk about anything that comes out of your minds.

there wasn't a day when you thought about diluc.

thankfully, your burns weren't too severe and is slowly fading away throughout the years. but that doesn't mean the memories you had from it disappeared as well.

ever since that dreadful night, you started having nightmares about the incident, always finding yourself sitting up from your bed with a scared look on your face.

you wished you didn't want to see diluc this way, but you honestly couldn't bare to face him if he ever comes back to the city.

you don't see him as a lover or a friend. all he is to you at this very moment is your nightmare.

your nightmares simply washes away when kaeya comes up in your mind.

whenever you think about your so-called destined enemy, you felt comforted and safe. it was understandable really! you were touched by how he took care of you regardless of you being his "enemy".

however... now that you could think about it, the calvary captain has a lot more common with you than diluc himself. the fact that his brother made you laugh a lot and supported you in many ways made you started thinking that maybe diluc really isn't your destined lover.

your heart skips a beat from the thought of kaeya being your true lover, the smile you wore never fading away.

perhaps when you're finally starting to move on from the relationship you had with diluc, maybe... just maybe, kaeya could be the one you've been hoping for.

you started to sleep more peacefully, excited for the future that awaits.

somewhere in the calvary captain's home, the man is dreaming and hoping of you too.

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

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Words: 8714 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, blood, severe injuries, fear, anxiety, death of a character A/N: This is the FINAL part of a miniseries! You can find the other chapters on the Masterlist! Summary: Y/N and Shane go missing.

Your name: submit What is this?

Two weeks later

“I can actually do it myself,” you insisted, feeling a blush in your cheeks as Daryl pulled your hand over onto his lap and bent over it, luckily oblivious to the pink glow now filling your cheeks.

He huffed at you. “I’m sure ya can,” he drawled, “but it’s definitely easier for someone with two hands, don’t ya think?”

You watched as he methodically and carefully snipped the stitches in your hand and pulled the sutures away, apologizing if they tugged at all. A lot had happened in the last two weeks. Pretty much everyone had come around to the fact that Shane had hurt himself in an attempt to get the group to abandon you. There had been a massive fight between him and Rick and since then Shane had been confined to his tent while he healed. When Hershel found out what had happened, he told Rick that Shane couldn’t stay, but Rick had already decided that he had go. His best friend seemed to be growing more bitter and more unstable by the day.

But Shane was still around temporarily, and because of that Daryl had refused to leave you to sleep unguarded at night. You’d argued that it would be fine and that you didn’t really think Shane would try to pull anything else, but the archer was insistent. Eventually, you caved. Daryl had hauled your cot and bedding to his tent and set them up along the opposite wall from his, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck at the strange nervousness and yet gratitude he felt knowing you’d be so close.

You both fell into an easy routine together. Your physical closeness may have been borne out of necessity but the other growing closeness developed organically. Spending time with Daryl was easy. He didn’t mind when you were quiet for hours on end, lost in your own head as you aimlessly tossed twigs into the fire. He didn’t mind when you wanted to talk about something specific or nothing at all, and you felt the same way about him. The silences didn’t bother you with Daryl and every time he did open his mouth it was either to make you laugh or to say something you were genuinely interested in hearing. He was constantly checking on you over the smallest things. If you shivered in the evening as you spent time around the fire, he’d insist that you moved closer to the flames or he’d go get a blanket from his tent and toss it down on your lap without a word before he took his place again. He’d make sure you were eating and would refill your canteen whenever he thought about it. You did what you could to return the favors but he usually seemed to beat you to it.

“I guess with these out I can finally start hunting again,” you said. “And going out and gathering stuff.”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, his eyes narrowed as he focused on removing the very last stitch. “There.” He straightened up and looked at the slightly raised pink scar down the center of your palm. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he ran a finger lightly down the length of it.

You startled at the unfamiliar sensation, a little strange due to the altered sensation along the length of the scar, but even more so because of the way your heart jumped at the touch of Daryl’s fingers so light on your palm. You involuntarily pulled you hand back and your eyes shot up to meet his.

He gave you a sheepish look. “Sorry. Did that hurt?” He regretted it the moment he’d done it, worried about your reaction.

You shook your head. “No, it just—”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” you finished quietly, chewing on your bottom lip a little anxiously. He quirked an eyebrow at you but simply stood up.

“Alright. Well, couple more days and that asshole will be outta here,” he growled, glancing over in the direction of Shane’s tent. He wasn’t yet allowing himself to acknowledge that he was worried things would go back to the way they were before once Shane was gone. That is, you’d retreat back to your space and back to yourself. He was really liking his time with you and he didn’t want it to end. The archer shook his head and glanced back at you. Your eyes were now on Shane’s tent, too but your expression was fretful. “S’matter?” he prompted you.

You sighed. “I just feel like it’s my fault he has to leave…”

“Nah. Nah, it ain’t. Y/N, if it weren’t you it’d be somethin’ else. He’s been spiralin’ down since Rick showed up alive and took his family back. It ain’t got nothin’ to do with ya, not really.”

You still looked unsure but the worry lines in your forehead eased a little. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

“Listen, I told Carol I’d go help her with that new tent. Ya gonna be alright over here?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm. I’ll be right here. Andrea gave me a new book.” You did glance a little longingly over your shoulder at the far tree line and Daryl was always amazed that even after the traumatic incident in those very same woods that you still wanted to be out there almost every minute of the day.

“Hey,” he said, calling your attention back to him. “We’ll go out and hunt tomorrow, alright?”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.” You watched his broad shoulders fade toward the main camp.

Carol was waiting when Daryl arrived. Her old tent had started to leak and Daryl had promised to help her get the new one they’d found set up. She stood up as he strode over, already flustered by the number of pins and ropes and metal poles. “If I’d known I’d be living out of a tent I definitely would have stuck with the Girl Scouts when I was a kid,” she said, giving Daryl a helpless look.

He let out a gruff laugh. “Ya got that the wrong way around,” he said, pointing to the pole she’d already slipped through the tent. She stared at it and sighed. “S’alright. That’s why I’m here right?” he said. “Gimme that,” he said, grabbing the bundle of poles in her hands and setting to work. In no time they had the tent upright and were going about staking it down. Carol handed Daryl another stake and he pounded it into the ground securing down the corner.

“So… what’s going on with you and Y/N exactly?” she asked him.

The archer froze and shot a look at her before returning his eyes to what he was doing, grateful for a task to focus on even as he felt his ears growing red. “What’d ya mean?”

“Well,” Carol continued, “you’re sharing a tent,” she said with a smile.

Daryl scoffed. “So? I shared a tent with T-dog once. Ya gonna ask me if we held hands?”

Carol laughed and smirked at him. “Well, did you?” Daryl rolled his eyes at her and she laughed harder.

“We’re sharin’ a tent cuz there’s a psycho that probably is blamin’ all his problems on her. And I don’t want shit to go sideways.”

“So, that’s it? You’re just sharing a tent for purely practical reasons,” Carol said. Daryl could hear the skepticism in her voice and he straightened up after tying off the knot to the stake.

“The hell are ya on about?” Daryl growled. But even as he tried to act gruff and brush her off, he felt that heat growing in his chest that was becoming familiar when he thought of you.

“You two just seem to get along,” Carol said. “That’s all.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, moving to the next corner of the tent. Something about that response made Carol laugh again.

“You’re so sensitive,” she murmured, eliciting an eyeroll from him. “Daryl, I just like to see you happy. And lately, since you’ve been spending so much time with Y/N, you’ve been happy,” she pointed out.

He couldn’t deny that. She was right. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, his hands still on the last length of cord before he tied it off and pounded in the stake. He stood up and stepped back, taking in the structure. “Alright. All done.”

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, surveying it. She gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze and smiled. “Do me a favor?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, chewing on the side of his thumbnail, glancing up at her.

“If you really like her,” she paused and shrugged, “tell her. Life is short these days.” She knew that as well as anyone. A husband, abusive asshole or not, and a precious little girl were gone to this world.

Daryl only ducked his head and lazily twirled a piece of grass between his fingers. “I’ll see ya,” he murmured, turning and heading back toward his tent. He was expecting you to be sitting beside the fire where you’d been when he left, but that spot was empty. He approached the tent and stopped outside the door. “Y/N? Ya in there?” When there was no answer, he unzipped it and peeked inside. No sign of you. The book that had been in your hand was on the tent floor and he bent and picked it up, setting it on the upturned box that was serving as a nightstand next to your cot. That’s when he realized your knife was there. He’d been thinking maybe you had to go use the bathroom, but you never left camp without your knife at your hip, whether it was for two minutes or two hours. And it wasn’t like you to leave a book on the ground. You treated the damn things like they were some sacred tomes. He felt panic start to grow in his chest and left the tent in a hurry, his blue eyes scanning the area where everyone else was set up and the tree line. He didn’t see you anywhere.

Daryl grabbed his crossbow and took off running toward the main camp. He found Lori and Carol preparing some food for dinner and stopped beside them. “Hey—have ya’ll seen Y/N anywhere? She come through here at all?” He directed the question at Lori since Carol had been busy with him getting the tent set up.

She stood up and dusted her hands off on her jeans, shaking her head. Her eyes went a little wide with worry as she registered the deep concern on Daryl’s face. “No, I—I haven’t seen her. You can’t find her?”

Daryl didn’t even stay to answer. He just tore off in the direction of the farmhouse and bounded up onto the front porch. Glenn and Maggie both stood up at the expression on his face. “Ya’ll see Y/N? Did she come up here?”

Maggie shook her head. “No,” Glenn answered, immediately worried. “What’s going on?”

Daryl swore under his breath and paced a restless circle, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I—I was gone for maybe an hour helpin’ Carol and now I can’t find her anywhere. She wouldn’ta gone off without her knife or nothin’,” he said. His jaw clenched and Glenn watched the muscle twitch. Daryl’s eyes quickly landed on the tent Shane was confined to and he took off at a full sprint toward it. Glenn was on his heels now.

“Daryl! Daryl, take it easy!” Glenn yelled after him. It drew the attention of the rest of the group and soon Rick and Andrea were standing beside Glenn as Daryl ripped back the entrance to Shane’s tent.

Daryl’s stomach twisted. Shane’s tent was empty. He kicked out at a milk crate that had some of Shane’s things on it and it toppled over. “Shane’s gone and Y/N is missin’!” he roared at Rick.

Rick gulped. A hard pit formed in his stomach. “Daryl—Daryl, just calm down,” Rick said.

That had the opposite effect. “Calm down? Calm down?!” he roared. “This ain’t no coincidence! I told ya he didn’t deserve to stay here to heal up, and now look what’s happened!”

“We’ll find them! We’ll find them. We will. Just—”

“Nah. I’m gonna track that fuckin’ prick and if he’s laid so much as a finger on her, he’s a dead man.” Daryl took off without another word, racing back to the last place he’d seen you, his eyes scanning the ground the whole way, hoping for a track, a trail, something.

“Dale, get the guns,” Rick said. “Lori, you and Carol take Carl up to the house and see if you can wait inside with Hershel and the girls.” Lori nodded and gave Carol’s arm a gentle squeeze. Rick rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face.

Andrea was stunned. “What do we do?”

Rick shut his eyes for a moment and pulled in a breath. “We get our guns and we look. We hope Daryl can pick up a trail and we hope we aren’t too late.”

You had been sitting contentedly by the fire reading when you decided you wanted some tea. You knew there were still some dried spicebush leaves in your pack from your last foraging trip and you went in to get them. You were crouched beside your pack, digging in the pocket when you heard a metallic sound that was easily identifiable. It was the slide of a pistol being drawn back and released, a bullet moving into the chamber. You froze with your hands in your pack and slowly turned. You could see Shane outside the window netting and his gun was aimed right at you.

“Get up. Slowly. Leave all your shit.”

You gulped and did so, replacing your pack against the wall and abandoning your book on the floor.

“Come over here. Zip the tent up and don’t even think about trying anything because I will kill you right here,” Shane growled, and you believed him. “Let’s go. Now.”

Again, you complied. You glanced desperately toward the main camp, hoping with every part of you that Daryl would be headed back or somehow happen to look over and see what was happening, but you knew you didn’t have any options except to comply. Comply and hope for an opening to save yourself.

Shane’s gun was still trained on you as you stepped around the outside of the tent. He was gritting his teeth in anger as you stared back at him. You were determined to remain calm and in control.

He nudged the barrel of his gun in the direction of the tree line. “Move. Let’s go.”

You felt sick, knowing that once you went into those trees the chance that you would ever come back out was low. But what choice did you have? He had a fucking gun on you and you had nothing.

You made your way toward the woods. Shane pressed the muzzle into your back. “Faster. And don’t even think about making a fucking sound. I will shoot you right here. I don’t even care. At least then I wouldn’t have to worry about you going all psycho-killer. Wouldn’t have to worry about Lori anymore. Or Carl.”

You bit your tongue to stop a retort.

Soon, you were under the dark canopy of trees, cloaked in shade and moving further in with Shane’s gun at your back. He was nervous, on edge, and understandably so, because you knew if Daryl caught him… he’d be dead in an instant. You decided your best course of action was to try to reason with him. You really did believe that he was just fucked up from being in love with a woman he couldn’t have. This was all misplaced blame and aggression. He really wanted to fuck Rick up, but that loyal part of him, that police partner, wouldn’t let him. Some part of him couldn’t bear to do that to Carl and Lori, even while another part of him was desperate to. You were an easy target, the next best thing to blame for his failed attempts to get back into the place he wanted to be, to regain some control, to prove he knew best and was still The Protector. If he had been able to show everyone that you were really a threat and that he and not Rick had taken care of it, he really thought maybe that would win Lori over. But that had all backfired. Now you were just easy to blame for all his problems.

“Shane, I know this isn’t really what you want,” you said quietly.

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know a goddamn thing about me,” he growled back, nudging you sharply with the muzzle of his gun again.

“I don’t want you to have to leave either. I know it isn’t fair,” you continued. “You took care of everyone for a while before Rick showed up.”

“I said shut up!” he spat again through clenched teeth. “Ya know what? Sit the fuck down. Right there, against that tree.” He shoved you hard and you stumbled, barely catching yourself with your hands on the large oak before your face would have collided with it.

You obeyed and sat with your back against the tree, gulping at the dryness in your throat, and turning to stare directly at the gun pointed in your face.

Something about how calm you were being, how steady, was completely freaking Shane the fuck out. He wanted you to snap. He wanted to be able to say that he was right about you and you were a danger to everyone in camp, like you were some unpredictable monster. But you just sat there looking up at him, now completely silent, your eyes flickering between the muzzle of his gun and his face. Shane swore under his breath and paced back in forth in front of you. Your eyes followed his movements. You bided your time, trying to come up with something that would defuse this whole situation.

“How is this going to fix anything?” you asked him. “This is only going to make everything worse.”

He didn’t stop pacing and occasionally shooting a look at you that made your blood run cold. You were starting to think that maybe there was no reasoning with him…

“You can just let me go. I’ll just tell everyone I needed to get out of camp for a bit. You can wander back in like nothing happened,” you said.

He pointed the gun at you again and his lip curled. “There’s no going back from this. No going back from everything that’s already happened. And I know there is something wrong with you. I know it. If I’m not going to be here to keep an eye on you, I need to end this now so you can’t hurt anyone. Because I know you will snap eventually. I saw what you did to those men.” Shane got right into your face, poking you in the shoulder with the muzzle of his gun.

“I was defending myself,” you said quietly, feeling guilty and horrified at yourself even as you tried to justify it to Shane.

“So you say,” he growled, his pistol now aimed at your forehead.

“If I was going to snap like you’re saying, wouldn’t now be a good time?” you said quietly. “Obviously you’re a threat to me. But I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

He scoffed and straightened up again, resuming his pacing. “What—what the hell happened to you, huh? What fucked up thing twisted you to the point where you could do what you did to those men? Do you even remember it? Do you even know how many times you stabbed them?” he pressed. He was trying to agitate you, but it didn’t work.

Your stomach was churning with the foggy memory of being covered in their blood, of seeing their corpses on the ground, but you only stared back at Shane. No way in hell you were divulging what you’d been through to Shane, gunpoint or not.

He ran his tongue over his teeth and you watched as the muscle in his jaw clenched. He charged toward you again. “You know what? I’m done with this,” he growled. He pressed the gun to your forehead, aiming at a downward angle. The metal bit into your skin. You stared up at him briefly, eyes wide but surprisingly calm, and Shane watched in some disbelief as you finally just shut them and seemed to resign yourself to the fact that you were about to die.

That hesitation was all you needed.

You shoved Shane’s arm away and the gun with it and snatched the knife at his hip, ripping it free from its sheath and slashing at him, leaving a good gash on his arm. But a knife wouldn’t be any match for Shane with a gun. He was a firearm instructor and you knew his aim was deadly accurate, so before he could entirely recover from his surprise you ran at him full force and the two of fell to the ground hard. The pistol flew from his hands and landed in the leaf little a few feet away. You began to crawl desperately toward it, trying to put distance between you and Shane as quickly as possible, but you let out a yell as you felt him grab hold of you and pull you back.

The next thing you knew he was over you, trying his hardest to get the knife from your hand. You were slashing at him desperately, catching him on the forearms as you struggled beneath him. You caught him with a particularly strong slash but the next moment he had your hands pinned in his and he wrenched the knife from you. The rush of blood was loud in your ears and now you were on the defensive. You shielded yourself with your arms as best you could and continued to struggle beneath him, but his weight was too much.

Shane suddenly managed to push your arms out of the way and you saw the knife coming toward you as if in slow motion. It was heading straight for the center of your chest. You thrust your left arm out and felt the blade pierce it deeply before ripping clean and lodging in your left shoulder. You let out a scream of pain, but as Shane was now leaning over you, you managed to get your knee up underneath him and thrust it as hard as you could into his groin.

He let out an agonized yell and rolled off you, abandoning the knife that was still lodged deeply in your shoulder. You gritted your teeth and were vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face and the fact that you were trembling. But there was no time to stop. You couldn’t stop if you wanted to live. You clutched at the knife in your shoulder, staring briefly with shock at how deeply it was embedded, but didn’t dare to pull it out. Rolling over and holding yourself up on your lacerated forearms, you fixed your eyes on the gun and made a desperate lunge for it. You felt hands on your legs again, dragging you back.

Back toward the edge of the tree line, Daryl had picked up the trail easily and was frantically tracking. Rick and the others were on his heels, glancing around nervously, straining their eyes in the veiled darkness beneath the canopy and their ears in the closeness of the trees. But it wasn’t long that they had to trail behind the archer because soon a strained yell made it to their ears. Daryl felt his blood run cold.

He paused hardly for a moment before he tore off through the trees in the direction he’d heard your voice echo from. “Y/N!” He wanted you to know he was on his way. He needed you to just hang on. He pushed himself to run through the nausea that had risen when that sound, your pained voice, had met his ears. He tore through the foliage, the sound of pounding boots on the soil loud behind him as the others followed.

“Daryl! Daryl, slow down! We can’t just—” Rick paused as he had to bust through some shrubs. “We can’t just barrel in there!” But it was as if the archer hadn’t heard anything. He just continued running, trying to listen over his own gasping breath and pounding pulse but simultaneously afraid of what he would hear.

Crack.

The unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

Daryl skidded to a stop, frozen. His face blanched, almost ashen as Rick caught up and glanced over at him. Sweat was pouring down from their foreheads and running down their necks, soaking the thin cotton of their shirts. A small strangled noise escaped Daryl’s lips as he searched the ground frantically again for the trail, needing to know he was running in the right direction. He spotted it. Direction confirmed, he took off at an even madder pace than before. “Y/N!” There was no answer.

But he couldn’t allow himself to think the worst. He couldn’t. That couldn’t happen to you. After everything you’d already been through… how could he have let this happen? Why had he turned his back on you for even a minute with that prick still around? He felt shaky and weak even as he ran.

The group had just pushed through another thick swath of understory when Daryl saw a bundle ahead, lying motionless on the ground. His breath caught in his throat and his boots rooted into the soil for a moment. But he pushed himself to move forward again.

Behind him he was vaguely aware of a gasp from Andrea and some murmur from Glenn.

As he moved closer, he realized there was a second shape ahead and as his eyes refocused, he saw that it was you. You were leaned up against a big oak tree, propped up against the rough bark, your head lolled toward your chest. Some pained gasp or muted scream, catching mostly in his throat, left his lips before he tore off toward you again. As he fell to his knees beside you, he took in the soaked crimson of your shirt. Your arms were cut up and absolutely covered in blood. Then Daryl’s eyes landed on the hilt of the knife still embedded in your left shoulder. His hands shook as he hesitated before lifting your chin, terrified that your skin would be cold and lifeless. You were bruised and battered, bleeding from a swollen and split lip and a gash near your hairline, but there was some semblance of warmth still in your skin, though you were pale. More miraculously yet, when he gently lifted your chin, you started to stir and Daryl watched in desperation as you struggled to open your eyes, eventually succeeding.

“Hey, hey. S’alright. I’ve got ya. I’ve got ya…” He could hear his own voice shake as he spoke.

You gulped, wanting to clear the taste of iron from your mouth. “I had to,” you managed to croak out. “I had to.”

Daryl knew you were referring to Shane’s lifeless body behind him on the ground. “S’ok. It don’t matter. Don’t talk now, alright? Just rest. I’ve got ya.”

Daryl felt someone behind him and turned to see Glenn just behind him. His face was pale as he took in your condition. “Her shoulder... Oh my God,” Glenn gasped.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Daryl said forcefully. He carefully slid his arm behind your back and another underneath your knees. You were fighting to stay awake. “Daryl…” you murmured. You felt so small in his arms as he lifted you. Daryl was vaguely aware of your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, gripping it hard before you fell unconscious again, going limp in his arms. He turned and started heading back to the farm, moving as quickly as he dared with you in his arms, conscious of the knife still wedged cruelly into you. The sight of it protruding from you made him sick with rage. Rick was kneeling beside Shane, his face downturned, as Daryl breezed past. Andrea stood just behind him with a hand pressed over her mouth, watching as Daryl carried your bloodied body past her.

As Daryl’s broad shoulders disappeared, Glenn bent and retrieved the pistol lying on the leaf litter among streaks of your blood. It felt like a lead weight in his palm.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl sat slumped in a chair beside your prone form laid out on the bed, covered over in the blankets. He was leaned over forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles shone white.

After days of agonizing waiting, there was a soft noise from you and his eyes shot up urgently to see you stirring a little on the pillow. He rocketed to his feet so fast that the chair he’d been in clattered backward loudly to the floor. “Doc!” he yelled out. Hershel rushed in a moment later.

You dragged your eyelids open with a great amount of effort and the first thing you saw were Daryl’s piercing blue eyes looking down at you with immense concern. You moistened your lips with your tongue and cleared your throat, which felt dry and scratchy, preparing to speak. He watched as your expression melted into a veil of confusion. “I’m not… not dead?”

Daryl felt a painful pang in his chest as he watched you spinning with disbelief.

Hershel leaned over you with a kindly and somewhat sad expression on his face. “You most definitely are not. Though you surprised all of us after what you went through,” he said putting a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder.

Your eyes turned back to Daryl’s. “Shane—” His name seemed to strangle and catch in your throat. “I—”

“I know. Ya had to. S’alright,” Daryl drawled, his brow furrowing low over his eyes.

You mouthed wordlessly for a moment, your eyes brimming with tears. “Is he—did he—?”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod, his expression full of concern. “He’s gone.”

You felt that you already knew the answer but it still made your stomach churn. You laid more heavily into the pillow and shut your eyes, a pained expression crossing your face. When your eyes finally fluttered open again they were still a little glassy. Daryl wondered at this display of remorse, of regret you had for a man who had clearly taken you into the woods to kill you.

But what Daryl saw next was you clearly struggling against some flashback. You squeezed your eyes shut and your breathing quickened. Beads of sweat broke out on your hairline and your face tensed.

Daryl’s hand shot out to gently grab yours before he even knew what he was doing. “Hey.” He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Y/N. S’alright. You’re safe,” he drawled.

Your eyes opened and you glanced down at your hand in his. Daryl withdrew, suddenly self-conscious. You nodded and seemed to come back to the present.

You reached across yourself to grip your left shoulder, a wave of pain running through you and a grimace tightening your features. You felt thick gauze beneath your fingers. As you moved you became aware that you had many little rows of stitches on your arms and a few gashes wrapped up in bandages as well. Even your hands were cut up from your attempts to defend yourself. You extended your arm in front of yourself and took in the damage done by Shane’s knife.

“I don’t understand,” you said softly. “I thought for sure I was going to die out there.” The way you said it was so matter-of-fact and Daryl felt a rush of anger overwhelm him for a moment. Shane was lucky he was dead when Daryl had gotten there… He’d gotten off easy with a single round to the chest.

Hershel nodded. “You have a lot of strength in you. Rest. Everything is going to be just fine. You’re going to heal up and be back to normal before you know it, though that shoulder may need a little extra TLC.” The doctor took his leave and your eyes found Daryl’s again. He read worry on your face.

“What is it?” he drawled.

You gulped. “I’ll leave as soon as I’m healed up,” you said, now avoiding his eyes.

Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. “Why the hell would ya do that?”

His tone was forceful again and drew your eyes back to his. “The others—after what happened, I can’t imagine they want me around anymore.”

Daryl sighed heavily and righted his chair again, sinking down in it close at your bedside. “For once yer wrong about somethin’,” he said. “Nobody wants ya to leave. Ya didn’t do anything more than defend yourself, just like ya did with those men before. Anyone can glance at ya for one second and see that.”

You shifted in bed, trying to make your injured shoulder more comfortable, laying your other hand over it absently, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You still looked unsure.

“Y/N, when we found ya you had a damn knife sticking out of your shoulder.” He paused and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck a little anxiously. “I—” his voice seemed to catch in his throat. “I thought we lost ya.”

You peered at him curiously.

He leaned forward. “Listen to me, if anybody even so much as looks at ya like ya shouldn’t be here, they’ll have to deal with me.”

Daryl watched, a little anxiously, as your lips parted softly. “I’m not sure I deserve that from you,” you finally managed quietly. “You’ve already done enough. Daryl, I suspect you saved my life.” You gulped and stared down toward the edge of the blankets. “In more ways than one…”

The archer averted his eyes down toward his boots and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, nervous and wavering between his insecurity and need to reassure you, not allowing himself to really think on what you’d just said. “Hey. Yer a part of this group, even if ya ain’t always felt like it.”

You studied him for a long moment before you spoke again. “So are you,” you said perceptively. His blue eyes shot up to meet yours and you gave him a weak smile. “Can you do me a favor?”

He nudged his nose up in a nod. “’Course.”

“Can—can you help me take a walk outside? I need some air,” you said quietly.

“Are ya sure yer up for that? Ya had surgery on that shoulder. Ya lost a lot of blood. Ya just woke up after bein’ out of it for three days. I don’t think it’s—” Concern creased his forehead.

You nodded. “I’m sure. You won’t let anything bad happen to me. I’ve at least learned that by now.” You felt a bloom of warmth in your chest as you spoke those words, coupled with the realization of their truth almost at the same time as they left your lips. That burst of heat you felt was reflected in a pink hue in the archer’s face and the tips of his ears.

He looked a little bashful but nodded and acquiesced to your request. “Alright. C’mon,” he said, gently taking your hand, avoiding the injuries carefully, and doing his best to ignore how nervous he felt when his fingers closed around it. He helped you out of bed and steadied you as you got to your feet. You glanced up at him, and your expression was so open and earnest he was frankly shocked by it. Could it really be that you were looking that way at him? His fingers were light under your elbow and his other hand was ghosting behind your back, centimeters away from making contact if needed as you started toward the door. “Ya alright?”

You nodded and gulped at the rush of feelings his hand around yours had brought, trying your hardest to ignore it. All you could do was nod. The two of you emerged onto the porch and Glenn and Maggie stood up immediately from their place nearby in the seating area. Both of them were all smiles to see you on your feet.

“You’re up,” Glenn said, looking at you with a bewildered smile. “This is amazing. It’s so good to see you awake!” His expression was nothing but kindness.

“How are you feelin’?” Maggie asked.

You nodded, glancing back over at Daryl and relaxing some as you saw one corner of his mouth was twitched up. His blue eyes were fixed on your face and he couldn’t look away. Seeing you actually awake and already on your feet was a huge relief after many days of sickening worry. “I feel alright. A little tired,” you admitted. Almost as if one cue you wavered a little on your feet, your knees feeling suddenly weak.

Daryl’s hand landed flush against the small of your back, immediately steadying you. “Easy,” he rumbled. “Ya alright?” You nodded, quite sure your cheeks were pink, and when you glanced back at him and mumbled a small “thanks” you thought maybe his cheeks were pink too. You turned back to Glenn and Maggie and your eyes drifted to all the numerous stitches on your arms. “I’m definitely a little worse for wear. But could have been worse…” you trailed off.

“Definitely,” Glenn said, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re all just so glad you’re okay.”

Just at that moment you heard boots on the stairs and you looked up to see Rick, thumbs slung into his pockets as usual. Your heart rate increased with anxiety and you gulped at the sudden tightness in your throat. You’d killed his best friend. You’d pulled the trigger and killed Shane. “I’m sorry,” you said to the Sheriff.

But Rick was smiling at you with tears in his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “This is my fault,” he said suddenly, a rasp in his voice from emotion and your eyes widened in surprise. “This is my fault and I am so sorry. Daryl told me—and I should have listened. Shane was way more of a threat than I was willing to admit. This should have never happened to you,” he drawled. “And I hope you can forgive me at some point.”

You stared at him for a long moment, blinking in the sun and breathing in the freshness of the outside air. “It’s already forgiven,” you said softly, nodding at him.

Daryl stared at you in awe of how, despite everything you’d been through, you still could extend that forgiveness so easily.

Daryl sensed some shift in you and his brow drew down low over his eyes. “Let’s get ya back to bed. C’mon.”

You allowed him to help you back through the farmhouse and even into bed as you struggled not to put any weight on your left shoulder, wincing as you moved. Daryl watched you settled in and stood a bit awkwardly at your bedside. He nervously ran a hand back through his hair. “Well, I’ll let ya get some sleep,” he drawled, turning to leave.

“Daryl.”

He turned back to glance at you and your expression was a bit hesitant. “Hmm?”

“Would you stay? …please?”

He didn’t need to hear anything else. He planted himself right back down in the chair at the side of the bed and watched as some of the tension on your face eased.

“Thanks,” you said quietly with a sigh. Daryl watched as you closed your eyes and shifted, trying to make your shoulder more comfortable, but a moment later your eyes fluttered open again and met his. “He put the gun to my forehead,” you suddenly said quietly.

Daryl’s stomach plummeted and then swirled with anger. He stared back at you, incredulous with rage easily readable on his face.

“I made my peace with the fact that he was going to pull the trigger.” Your voice was somewhat disconnected, distant. “But then… he hesitated. And I took the chance and I fought.”

Daryl gulped. “Ya made it. Yer alright.”

You nodded and looked at him for a long moment, seemingly on the edge of saying something else, but you finally just sighed and your eyelids, now heavy with exhaustion, closed again. Soon, you were asleep. And Daryl stayed at your bedside and drifted off himself. _ _ _ _ _ _

Some time later You tossed down the game stringer, loaded with squirrels, in front of Daryl. “Ten,” you said, a wide grin spreading across your face. “What’d ya get?”

He looked up at you and affected an unamused expression. “Nine,” he drawled, pointing to his harvest waiting to be cleaned.

“Ha! I win again,” you said, absolutely brimming with joy. “I thought you said you were good at hunting?” you teased him.

He rolled his eyes at you and looked over as you sank down beside him. “Ya beat me by one. Ain’t exactly a landslide, is it?”

“A win is a win,” you announced with satisfaction.

He rolled his eyes again, but his expression quickly turned to concern as he caught you rubbing your shoulder. “Sore?” he asked you, his brow drawing down. “Maybe ya shouldn’t be hunting with that bow again yet.”

Your face softened as you caught his blue eyes. “I’m fine. It’s just a little tired, that’s all. Hershel says I need to build my strength up again.” Daryl’s eyes caught on the scar where the knife had been lodged into your shoulder. It was matched by many smaller ones on your arms, all with the same pink hue due to their newness. He could also see the brand on your arm, 1048, the remnant from your time under The Copperheads. Before, you would wear long sleeves in the height of the Georgian summer just to avoid anyone seeing that mark. Now there were a lot more scars added to it, but you didn’t seem to care. It was like you finally had a weight lifted off your shoulders and you felt free for the first time in a long time, unencumbered by your past.

“We should get ya a crossbow, like mine. Then ya wouldn’t have to hold the draw with that shoulder.”

“I like my old-fashioned recurve bow,” you said, pulling it over onto your lap and looking down at it fondly. “Especially because I can still beat you with it,” you smiled at him.

Daryl seemed suddenly fidgety and you picked up on it immediately. His eyes turned down and his expression was suddenly serious.

“What? What is it?”

He shrugged, still seemingly avoiding your eyes. “Can I ask ya somethin’?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Always.”

He flicked his thumb along the sharp edge of his knife. “How—with everything that ya’ve been through, how come ya ain’t just angry? I’m angry just thinkin’ about it. And it didn’t even happen to me.”

“Mmm,” hummed thoughtfully. Your eyes turned out across the verdant pasture, toward the trees you’d spent the day under. “I am angry sometimes. But,” you shrugged, your right hand shielding over the scar on your left shoulder absently, “being angry doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t fix it. It all still happened.”

Your eyes grew a bit far-off, a bit distant. Daryl took several forced, deep inhales and gathered his courage before reaching over and taking your hand in his, pulling it away from your shoulder.

You looked over at him in surprise. Your hand felt small between his. Your gaze was questioning. Daryl’s heart was pounding so hard in his ears he couldn’t hear anything else. He gulped, trying to clear his throat so he could talk. “‘M gonna make sure nothin’ else bad happens to ya. As best I can,” he murmured.

You nodded almost imperceptibly, your eyes still a little wide from the unexpected action of him taking your hand in his. “Only if I can do the same thing for you.”

You saw him gulp nervously before he nudged his nose up in a nod at you. “Yeh, I think—I think that’d be alright,” he said.

You gave him a half-smile that he found incredibly endearing and his nerves finally got the better of him and he released your hand, clearing his throat and awkwardly rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m, uhh, just gonna go grab some more firewood,” he drawled, standing up abruptly and internally cursing at himself as he left you sitting alone by the fire. Fuckin’ coward. Despite all his attempts at denial, Daryl had realized over the last couple weeks that he couldn’t ignore how he felt about you anymore, but now he was stranded in this place between where he was and where he wanted to be with no idea how to bridge the gap. He wandered back with an armload of firewood, internally frustrated and kicking himself, but his frustration vanished almost immediately when he had dumped it next to the fire circle and glanced at you again. You were looking at him with that open expression, this time with a little inquisitive lift in one of your eyebrows.

“Hmm?” he hummed, pulling his bottom lip back in between his teeth and worrying it anxiously.

You tilted your head toward the place he’d previously been sitting and he gulped as he sat down, still feeling your eyes steady on him. He thought that now you looked a little nervous. “Can I ask you something?” you said quietly.

The archer nodded, nervous flutters flitting to life in his stomach.

“Umm… is it just me, or have you slept like shit, too, since I moved out of your tent?”

Once you were no longer staying in the house healing up, Daryl had moved your things out of his tent for you since there was no longer any need to worry about Shane. It wasn’t that you had asked him to, or that he’d even wanted to, it just seemed like he should…Afterwards, you’d actually moved your whole campsite closer to his, directly next to it, but you still found yourself tossing and turning on your cot, unable to fall asleep or stay asleep.

Daryl stared back at you for a moment in disbelief. He’d slept like garbage since you’d moved back, and he hadn’t even had the heart to fill the cleared space you’d once occupied with the stuff he previously had kept there. Now the emptiness loomed, drawing his eyes, the physical manifestation of how he felt something was just missing. When you slept on your cot across from him, he’d wake up in the middle of the night and look over at the shadow of your sleeping form. He always felt some swell of relief and maybe something else he couldn’t quite identify… Something about listening to your calm breathing always relaxed him and he found himself able to shut his eyes and drift off again. Maybe he’d gotten used to it. Maybe he shouldn’t have. But since you’d left, he’d been restless and anxious at night, wishing the material of his tent and yours would vanish so he could check on you.

Your nerves were growing with each moment of silence as you anxiously watched him, waiting for him to say something. “No, I—“ he had to clear his throat, nerves making his voice come out strangely strangled, “I’ve—” he let out a scoff of a laugh, almost incredulous he was about to say it to you, “I’ve slept like shit since ya left.”

“…really?”

He nodded, finally meeting your eyes again. “Mhm. Can’t fall asleep, can’t stay asleep, just feels like I lay there all the time w—”

You grabbed him by his lapel and pulled him toward you, pressing your lips softly to his, your eyes shut tightly, overwhelmed with nerves even while you melted into him. Your fingers cupped his face gently, like he was something fragile and Daryl was reeling.

By the time he reached back for you and got over his surprise you were already withdrawing and he blinked, bewildered, as he took in the wide-eyed expression on your face and your partially parted lips.

“Uhh—was that—okay?” you breathed, anxiety ratcheting up with each passing moment of uncertainty.

“Ya,” he drawled. It spilled from him like warm molasses. He watched as your face broke into a relieved smile and your cheeks burned pink.

“Good,” you murmured, unable to look at him any longer.

“Only I—I wasn’t ready,” he murmured. Your eyes flickered up to his again. He gulped nervously and reached out to move a strand of hair out of your eyes before clasping your face. His blue eyes were flickering between yours and then down to your lips. You could tell he was nervous and it brought a small smile to your face. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned toward him, only having to wait a second before you felt his lips crashing against yours.

This time the kiss was heated and urgent and he pulled you into him gently with his hand at the nape of your neck. You happily leaned in, smiling against his lips, your hand pressing flush to his strong chest and the other landing lightly on his side, driving him crazy. Daryl’s hand smoothed over your shoulder and down your bare arm, electricity rising in its wake.

When you broke apart this time, you were both all stunned smiles again, though now you couldn’t look away from each other.

“So, uhh—ya wanna stay with me tonight? Sounds like we both need some real sleep, ya know, and I dunno…” Daryl wasn’t used to asking for what he wanted so blatantly, or making himself vulnerable, but somehow you brought it out of him and he was willing to jump off that ledge if it meant he got to kiss you and touch you and hold you all night… things he had thought about plenty when he was lying on his cot, unable to sleep, but never saw as a reality.

You nodded, that same smile you always gave him glowing on your face. He was constantly amazed by the light you exuded; despite everything you’d been through… everything you’d shared with him.

He needed that. He needed the light. He needed you. You gave him hope.

That night you settled in against him, nervous but melting into the safeness of his arms around you. Daryl worried he was too overwhelmed to sleep, but moment by moment he realized how natural having you against him felt, how safe, how perfect, and before either of you spoke another word you both drifted off in blissful silence.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Careless Words

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,114

Warnings: Brief depiction of drunken character, swearing

Premise: Words are thrown around so carelessly, phrases, endearments, accusations. But when all is gone and only the words remain it can be difficult to pick up the pieces.

In which the reader and their s/o argue and make up.

Author’s Note: Ended up spending a good two hours on Albedo’s bit alone, wow I got carried away with this. Also I feel so bad for Childe, I’m sorry!

Not proofread cause I ran out of time, will do so tomorrow.

Albedo

“Do you even respect what I do?” Those words kept ringing through your ears, a bitter litany that fueled your anger just as it began to fade. Do you even respect what I do?

Of course you did, you respected him and his work very much, it was one of the first things that had drawn you to him, his inquisitiveness, his eternal questions, his determination to unlock the secrets of the world.

But really could he not do all that in his lab where all of his experiments and equipment belonged?

At first you hadn’t really paid attention, it was just a few plants after all. When you’d asked what they were for Albedo had smiled eagerly, replying that he wanted to see how different plants, especially those infused with elements, reacted to sunlight. You had just smiled then, although you were slightly worried about the mist flower freezing the ground around it. Still, it was a mundane enough experiment, and the plants looked very pretty on the windowsill. Nothing to worry about.

Well evidently that wasn’t quite the case because one experiment morphed into two morphed into five morphed into ten, until there seemed barely enough room to live among the beakers and graduated cylinders, the odd smells emanating from the various petri dishes which now scattered the coffee tables and the dressers.

It was becoming a nuisance, plain and simple. More than a few times you’d managed to almost tip something over, trying to grab a book off a shelf that was crammed with small boxes of various specimen, or almost putting a pot down on a counter covered with vials of whooper-flower nectars. You couldn’t live like this, and though you wanted to let Albedo carry on as uninhibited as possible, it couldn’t go on any longer. You were going to scream.

“Albedo, can we talk?”

“Of course.” Albedo looked up from the microscope he’d managed to cram on the coffee table. You let out a smile that quickly morphed into a grimace, making your way to the couch, careful not to bump into the table.

“Albedo, I love your passion in all that you do, but you really do have to tidy up a bit. I’m sorry I know it’s a bit of an inconvenience, but it’s just becoming a little difficult, you understand?”

“It’s only a few experiments.” Albedo replied, gaze still fixated on whatever he was observing. You felt a twinge of frustration, had he even heard you?

“This is serious Albedo. I don’t want to ruin any of your experiments, but it’s really becoming an impossible situation. We can barely cook for fear of crashing into something, and I’ve started waking up to the smell of fire flowers burning. Can’t you move one or two things into your laboratory?” You tried to keep your tone light, hoping that this time would be more successful. It was very irritating to feel like you weren’t being heard.

“I have an important experiment going on at the lab. It needs space and air. So I’m just moving everything here for the time being.”

“How long is that going to take?” You asked, once again feeling frustration rising up. He couldn’t even look up at you.

“Three weeks or so.”

“Three weeks?” You couldn’t help but let out a cry. “Albedo I’m sorry I cannot live like this for three weeks.”

“Why not.” It wasn’t even a question.

“Please look at me.” You finally said, tone dropping to one that made no attempt to hide your growing irritation. Albedo let out a curt sigh, glancing over at you with a disinterested sort of gaze. “You have to move some of this stuff out Albedo. It would be one thing if it was a week, but three? We can barely live right now, what are we supposed to do for the next three weeks?”

“I don’t know.” Albedo scowled in a dismissive tone. “I think you’re making too much of it.”

“And I think you aren’t listening. Are you even hearing what I’m saying? Even processing the situation? Or are you so focused on that microscope that you can’t see that your partner is besides themselves.”

“You seem fine to me,” Albedo’s tone continued its aloof cadence, “I don’t see why you can’t just wait three weeks. You’re being awfully demanding.”

“I…” for a moment you were speechless, feeling as if you were fighting a losing battle, why was it so much easier for Albedo so say words that meant nothing at all while you were quickly finding yourself losing your cool? “You aren’t listening to me!” You finally managed to get out, knowing by this time you were awfully close to shouting but too frustrated to care.

“And you aren’t listening to me,” Albedo’s tone finally began to inch into something a little more emotional, you weren’t sure why but it gave you a hint of satisfaction, “do you even respect what I do? Or are you too wrapped up in yourself.”

It was like getting punched in the gut.

“Fine.” You stepped away almost knocking into a dresser crammed with empty equipment. For a moment you wondered what you could say that would hurt him so much but quickly gave it up. You were too angry to think straight anyways; right now you just wanted to get out.

“Where are you going?” Albedo’s tone seemed to have shrunk back to its previous range.

You didn’t even respond, not bothering to gather anything up as you made your way to the door. Albedo called out your name once. You responded by slamming the door as hard as you could on your way out.

•

At first Albedo simply went back to his observations, trying to ignore the negative feelings that churned inside him. How dare you, he thought, how dare you take him and his work so lightly. Maybe it was good that you were getting out of the house, Albedo wasn’t sure how long he could’ve lasted until he lapsed into that horrible shrieking as well. “How embarrassing.” He murmured to himself, as if that would drown the unease. Still the fight was new and the emotions were raw. He wasn’t about to ponder the matter anytime soon.

This carefree attitude slipped a bit when you didn’t come home for dinner. Still he simply sighed and went to cook for himself. By now his anger had cooled extensively and he was beginning to feel a bitter sort of regret. Maybe he had been to harsh, though he still wasn’t ready to admit he was wrong. No, you were just being dramatic, and though he should’ve been kinder with you, backing down was absolutely not on the table for him. He cared about his work after all, cared deeply; he couldn’t just stop because it was inconvenient to you. Moving a few vials out of the way Albedo laid out the chopping block. The amount of pasta he’d bought looked comical against the knowledge that he was going to be eating alone tonight.

Dinner was a sad affair. Somehow Albedo had gotten used to cooking with you, your proximity, your easy conversation, the way the one who finished their food first always pushed their chair next to the slower party, usually to lean their head on the other ones shoulder which while not necessarily comfortable was certainly relaxing. It was lonely now, and the loneliness only grew as Albedo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow would be better. Still he lay there, thoughts scattered and hazy. Was he in the wrong? He couldn’t tell. But certainly he was in the wrong now, in the wrong for not being with you like usual, for not reacting when you left, for still being unable to react now.

It was that thought that eventually lulled him to sleep.

Albedo woke up to the most horrible smell. Squinting he sat up, trying to figure out what in the world was going on. The smell was vaguely akin to burning flesh, but it that flesh was also experiencing a bad case of freezer burn. Fighting the urge to gag Albedo stumbled around. Once he got to the living room he groaned. Some ammonia had managed to fall of the shelf and spill onto all the flowers he’d propped on the roof. Crinkling his nose he went to clean it up, but found it took about twenty minutes just to find where he’d put the tools for properly disposing equipment and bio-experiments.

By the time he was done the final shreds of his resolve had utterly dissipated. You were right. You were absolutely right and he absolutely needed to tell you. Barely stopping by the lab to throw the bags of ruined equipment in the trash he sprinted down the streets of Mondstadt. He hoped that he arrived at the Guild in time.

Albedo spied you just as your were getting your commissions handed to you. Calling out he stopped slightly as you turned to look at him with a weary gaze. Clearly you were still upset about the matter, and for a moment Albedo wondered whether or not he should just turn and leave. But he knew that wouldn’t help either. Nothing would help until he apologized, and that was exactly what he was going to you.

“Albedo I-”

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo blurted out, not wanting to give you a chance to misconstrue his actions, “I am truly so sorry my darling. You were absolutely right, and I shouldn’t have dismissed you like that. I am so deeply sorry.”

“Albedo,” you replied, voice sort of quiet in a way that worried him, “I’m very glad to accept your apology for that, I’m sorry for snapping at you, only…”

“Only?”

“Only did you mean what you said when you asked if I even cared? Do you think I am so selfish or so careless. I understand of course that words said in arguments are ones no one really thinks of, but I still want to know.” You glanced away, trailing off and Albedo felt his heart seize and a wave of guilt poured over him.

“Of course not!” Albedo stepped closer to you. “May I?” He opened his arms and you nodded briefly before closing the room between you two.

You buried your face in his shoulder, not wanting to look up. “I’m so sorry my darling,” Albedo whispered, running circles along your back. “I’m so sorry for making you question you and how I saw you like that. You’re right, I wasn’t thinking. I was the one too wrapped up in myself, in my work, and for that I am so deeply sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you mumbled, just happy to be as you’d been before. Arguments were always unpleasant, no matter what, but now it was all said and done and you could be yourselves again.

“Would you like to eat lunch together?” Albedo ventured, smiling when you looked up and gave a soft “yes”. The relief he felt was overwhelming and he vowed next time to be more careful.

One can get over arguments, but words are difficult to take back.

Childe

Although you disliked the Fatui in a vague, formal sort of way, that hatred had never truly been honed until you’d met Dottore.

At first you weren’t able to pinpoint what it was. Perhaps it was his erratic gaze, his odd smile, the way that he seemed to look at everything as if it was something to dissect – something which made you extremely uncomfortable. But then your dislike was given a proper motive when he and Childe went out one evening and your partner came back so plastered he didn’t seem to know who you were.

“Sorry about that dear.” Childe has laughed the day after, honestly how this man never seemed to have a proper hangover you didn’t know, not that he was drunk around you very often, something you appreciated greatly.

“Just don’t do it again.” You’d replied, frowning slightly. “That Dottore is a bad influence.”

“Awh, he’s not that bad,” Childe grinned, carelessly tossing about a book he had been reading, “not as bad as half the others anyways.”

“Still, be careful,” you commented, “you don’t want this to be a regular thing do you?”

“Aren’t I always careful?” Childe shook off your worry with his characteristic charm. “Besides Dottore’s going to be called back for a report to the Tsaritsa in about two weeks. Might as well make what you can out of his company while it lasts.”

“Perhaps.” You commented, secretly thinking that day couldn’t come close enough. Still it was only once, and you trusted Childe. He didn’t seem to like any of the Fatui anyways. Hopefully that would keep him from the fiasco of knocking down your door at 3:00.

But that didn’t stop him from doing it the next night, or the night after, or the night after. By night five you were absolutely done.

“Childe you have to stop this, you’re going to kill yourself the way you’re drinking.”

“You’re making too much of a fuss my dear,” Childe flitted his hand in the air as if batting away your concern, “if you think this is a lot you should see the sprees people go on in Snezhnaya. Honestly it’s only a little bit of fun, you know how hard it is to relax as a member of the Fatui in Liyue. Drinking buddies are hard to find, especially those who share my skill.”

“It’s more than a little bit of fun. Honestly Childe if I took this week by itself I’d think you were halfway to alcoholism! And I don’t appreciate you dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night, for fear you’d fall down the stairs if I left you and hurt yourself. It’s uncomfortable, seeing you so drunk.”

“Why?” Childe’s tone was still playful, but his eyes were narrowed slightly. Good. At least then he was listening to you.

“Have you ever interacted with a drunk person? Especially a drunk person on their fifth bender that week? It’s uncomfortable whether or not you know them and if you do it’s downright terrifying. Childe, I care about you and your health. And I’m begging you please stop these nights.”

“It’s fine.” Childe’s voice was growing harder by the moment. “I told you I can handle it, why do you have to pester so much?”

“Because I care about you!”

“Well maybe you should care a bit less.”

Childe stood up, making his way to the door. You knew that he was going to the Bank, knew that he was going to be out that night, but you said nothing. For now Childe’s sentence rang through your head. How could something so short be so painful. Shaking your head you moved to get your own equipment. Today was going to be a painful day.

You’d half expected the knock not to come, but sure enough it did. Turning to the clock you groaned inwardly. 3:45. Getting up you made your way to the door. Opening it you nearly slipped as your partner leaned on you. There was vodka on his breath and it made you feel as if you had no air. His words rattled through your head, refusing to leave since you’d first heard them. Maybe you should care a bit less. Fine, you would.

“Comrade?” Childe let out weakly. That was a new one. You made your way to the elevator and shoved him in there, making sure to angle it so he wouldn’t concuss himself.

“Get sober somewhere else.” And with that you slammed the button for the lobby floor, running out as the doors closed behind you. Childe made a strangled cry of protest but you didn’t care. You just wanted to sleep, and to forget. Maybe you should care less. Well why did it hurt to do so?

•

Childe squinted as a few rays of sun hit him square in the face. What was going on? Groaning he moved to reach for some blanket before realizing there was none. Shaking his head and ignoring the pounding headache that glanced right behind his eyelids he looked around. His mind was running as slow as it seemed possible to run but the minute it registered Childe felt himself flooded with embarrassment. A bench.

He was on a bench. Childe, Tartaglia, the Harbinger who had almost sunk Liyue. Said Harbinger was now sleeping on a bench, not because he’d fallen on hard times, not because of any reason that was understandable, but because he’d gotten too drunk to make it home.

No, not quite. Childe reached back into his memory, trying to piece together the night before. He had made it home, to your home, but you’d kicked him out. At first Childe felt a swell of irritation, but slowly but surely his memory caught up and he recalled the argument the morning before. He’d said something, hadn’t he. What was it?

Oh. Oh fuck.

Running back to your apartment he tried to straighten himself up, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious that he wasn’t nursing the worse sort of hangover. Damn he really relied on you. He relied on you and now he’d fucked up and now he needed to apologize.

Unfortunately his brain had only gotten that far so when you opened the door there was a bit of a pause, as he tried to think of what to say, words being drowned out by the pounding in his head.

“What do you want Childe?” You sighed, looking more depressed than anything. Childe felt a twinge of regret, but still the words wouldn’t come, not properly anyways, he must’ve still been a little drunk.

“I’m sorry.” Childe began, figuring that was the best way to go. “I’m sorry. Thank you and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you?” You tilted your head. “Are you sure you aren’t still drunk? I told you to sober up somewhere else.”

“Yes, I know, and I don’t know. But thank you for caring. And for looking after me. And I’m sorry.”

There was another pause, before you sighed.

“Come in.” You gestured, opening the door wider. Childe smiled weakly.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me later. I want to see you straightened up. And I want you to stop drinking like that.”

“I will.” Childe promised, making his way to the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to smash his face into a pillow. “Dottore was bad company anyways. Dear?”

“Yes?” You asked, still feeling a little shy. Perhaps you should’ve been more angry, but arguing always sat with you wrong. As did throwing Childe out.

“Thank you for caring.”

“You already said that.” You pointed out, finally cracking a smile, something that Childe mirrored, seeming somehow relieved.

“I know. But thank you.”

“Thank you for listening then.” You replied closing the blinds as Childe flopped onto the bed, sighing happily. “And thank you for forgiving me for kicking you out.”

“So callous.” Childe muttered, barely hearing your slight laugh as he drifted off to sleep.

Xiao

You hadn’t wanted to fight, not at all. Your relationship was still so young after all, so raw, but you couldn’t help it. And now, as you watched Xiao disappear into thin air, you felt the sour taste of fear mixed with anger and regret. You’d almost forgotten really, how quickly an adeptus can vanish.

The point of contention had been your commissions. While Xiao said nothing against them verbally, you could tell that your newfound partner was dissatisfied by your constant comings and goings, something made worse by your recent string of long trips. And it had all come to a head when you announced you’d be gone a month, traveling into Inazuma via a covert nautical route – thank you Beidou – before delivering a few papers to the Monstadt embassy, most being passports and travel papers for diplomats who let theirs expire. Xiao had listened to the scheme, glared becoming more and more pronounced as you went on. And when you were done he just shook his head and crossed his arms.

“You aren’t going.”

“What do you mean I’m not going?” You asked, confused.

“You aren’t going. For the love of the Seven, what kind of partner let’s their loved one smuggle themselves into a country with no chance of reprieve if something goes wrong and with no contact for a month? You aren’t going.”

“I’m going whether you like it or not,” you replied, irritation quickly running through your voice, “it’s fine Xiao, many people have done this before. And we need to get those Liyue diplomats home. Honestly, I’m not sure why you aren’t proud of me, proud of what I’m doing.”

“Because you’re putting yourself in needless danger and breaking the law for a few people who I’m sure could do just fine themselves.”

“You can’t just keep me from being an Adventurer Xiao. You can’t keep me from doing my job.”

“I told you it’s because I care about you.”

“No, it’s because you’re putting yourself above the needs of both myself and your own land. Xiao, don’t you care about Liyue?”

“I care about the land,” his voice was like stone, and when you glanced into his eyes for a moment they seemed truly without empathy or care, the gaze of an adeptus who understood nothing of the human world, “humanity can rot.”

“I’m a human,” you pointed out, voice soft. “Don’t you care about me.”

For a moment recognition flitted through Xiao’s expression and he seemed almost regretful. Then his gaze hardened over once more.

“You aren’t going.” And with that he disappeared.

•

It took Xiao approximately ten minutes to regret the entire situation. Being angry for long periods of time wasn’t necessarily an alien emotion to Xiao – sometimes he felt as if he carried anger everywhere he went – but anger at you certainly was, and no sooner had it arrived then it was fading away, replaced instead with a deep sense of shame and guilt.

Why was he so upset? Was it really out of care for you? Yes, he decided, there was that aspect to it. But there was something more, something less noble. He was afraid, he was afraid for you. He was afraid you’d be arrested, or your ship would succumb to the open ocean, or you’d be betrayed, or…

Thoughts fluttered in and out of Xiao’s mind, each one more outlandish than the rest. Behind them said the same thing. He was afraid. You were right, he was afraid.

Did he care about humans? No, Xiao could say that with certainty. Not the way humans cared about each other, the way the humans cared about the adepti, when they thought about them. Xiao hadn’t cared for humans for a very long time. Even the karma that he kept from wreaking the land was exorcised, not because of humans, but because it was his duty. He didn’t care about humans, not really.

But he did care about you. He cared about you and he didn’t want to keep you from what you loved in return. Not like he didn’t know you would go do your mission anyways. You would do your mission and if Xiao wasn’t careful the weeks of cultivating an acquaintanceship, and friendship, and then more would be ruined. And he’d just be left, watching and waiting, wondering if you’d be alright.

Xiao was thankful that you hadn’t left the balcony of the Inn. Appearing before you he reached out to hug you before hesitating.

“You can go.” He murmured, knowing that wasn’t ever a question.

“I’m going.”

“And I’m sorry.”

“I wish you hadn’t disappeared like that.” You frowned, but Xiao shook his head. Was that the worst he’d done?

“No, I’m sorry for saying you couldn’t go. I’m sorry for not caring. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow in a familiar expression and Xiao nodded slightly. Hurrying to embrace him you shook your head, still not over what had just transpired so quickly.

“Your eyes were so cold.” You murmured.

“I’m sorry.” Xiao murmured again, hugging you tightly.

“Don’t be.” You replied. “Just, stay like this a little longer.” Xiao was all to happy to comply.

It was easy to forget Xiao was an adeptus sometimes, that he still had that side of him, those cold eyes, that brusque demeanor. But even if that sometimes threw you off, even if you argued and worried and regretted, it would all be fine in the end.

Because you’d always return to a familiar embrace, and a shared love.

#so long I am SORRY #requested #albedo #childe #xiao #albedo x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #my writing #scenarios

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Note

Hey I love your blog! If it isn’t too much trouble, could you do one of the companions reacting to Sole getting an unsolicited dick pic?

FO4 Companions React to Sole Receiving an Unsolicited Dick Pic

So I know the ask said one of the companions, but I just did 'em all cuz I got carried away (as I always seem to). This was definitely an interesting one to think about, and suuuuper fun to write. Thanks for the ask!

I ended up doing a little scenario at the top that'll apply to all of the reactions, and just kind of give context for the fateful event to take place (since phones/the internet aren't really a canon element in FO, I put this scenario together instead.)

Given the nature of this ask, there's a just bit of NSFW under the cut!

Sole had woken up like any other day. Heading down the stairs of their Diamond City home to make breakfast, trying to be quiet in order to keep from disturbing their companion in the other room. However, as they passed their front door, they noticed something peeking out of the mail slot.

The paper isn't meant to come out until tomorrow...

Curious, Sole reached for the little white square of photo paper, and noticed some writing in the corner. There was an address and the words, "if you like what you see, meet me here tonight," accompanied by a little arrow pointing to flip the photo over. Their intrigue got the better of them, and Sole did as the writing suggested, turning it over for a brief second before immediately regretting it. They recoiled at the phallic image, their surprise evident in the small yelp they uttered in response to the sight before them.

They heard their companion stir from the other room, and then their footsteps sounded from behind as they approached questioningly.

"What have you got there?" They asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," Sole said, turning to face them, "just some mail, is all." Sole's words dripped with distaste, and yet... they felt an overwhelming need to share their unsightly discovery with the person in front of them.

"Wanna see?" They asked, mercilessly turning the picture so their companion could clearly make out the offensive image.

Cait:

*scoffs*

"What, they think that's somethin' te brag about? The damn thing's so wee, I almost couldn't make it out." She'd say with a smile, offering up her hand so she could take the picture and tear it in half. Cait effectively would make the decision for her companion in regards to the comment on the back of the photo. She knows this type of man, and she'd be sure that Sole wouldn't be meeting the asshole anywhere tonight. However, should she be able to sneak away while Sole is sleeping... Cait might just pay a visit to the specified location, where she'd surely give that asshole a piece of her mind, and at least one taste of her fist.

Curie:

Her eyebrows would furrow, and the synth would cock her head to the side in her confusion. Being locked away in a vault with three men for so many years, acting as their doctor, meant she had seen her fair share of the male sex organ. But now, Curie was confused, why did this man feel the need to send Sole a photograph of his penis? Was there something wrong with it? Did he want them to examine it? Sole was not a doctor...

"Why 'ave you received zhis, madame/monsieur? What does zhis man want from you?"

Once Sole explained, Curie would be quite upset by the concept.

"But... you did not ask for zhis, did not want it, and yet, he sent it anyway. Why would you want to meet someone like zhat? It seems very rude to me." She's still confused about it, and may ask a few more questions. Has this happened to Sole before? Does it happen often? Does anyone actually like to see such things when they are unprompted like this? If not, then why do these men continue to do it?

The scientist just wants answers.

Danse:

The soldier would physically recoil at the sight of the photograph, eyebrows raised high as he took in the image, before jerking his head and eyes away from Sole and the picture altogether.

"That-- that is highly inappropriate and an overwhelmingly vile display." He would say once he recovered from his initial shock, still refusing to look back towards Sole, "I suggest you dispose of that filth immediately. Why anyone would reveal themselves in such an unceremonious fashion is beyond me. You would do well to forget such graphic imagery. I know that I will certainly try."

He wouldn't even entertain the idea that Sole would go through with meeting the man behind the picture, but in the off chance that they decided to tell him they wanted to, Danse would spend the remainder of the day convincing them otherwise. He would almost be tempted to go to the location himself in order to lecture the man for his crude and inexcusable behavior, and blatant disrespect to his companion, but in the end, he decides that the man is not worth his time.

Deacon:

Ginger eyebrows would raise slightly over the frames of the glasses for the briefest of moments before he recovered his cool demeanor.

"Ah shoot, did the postman just put it right back into the mail slot? Didn't mean for you to see that, my bad. Here, I'll just deliver it myself."

The sarcasm was evident in his voice as he strode forward and plucked the photo from Sole's hand, examining it for just a moment, and grimacing a bit at the sight.

"Man, Dr. Rich Cockwood does not photograph well. I swear, it's bigger in person." He'd wink at them before glancing down at the picture again, scrutinizing blue eyes pausing to peruse the words on the back as he folded the paper up to put into his pocket. He'd quickly change the subject, trying to keep Sole's mind off the whole thing as he devised a way to sneak out that night and get some intel on the asshole who decided it was a wise idea to put Sole in this position.

Hancock:

*Squints*

"Oh shit. Looks like you've got an admirer there, Sole. " In his sleepy state, it took Hancock a minute to figure out what he was even looking at. Upon realizing that it was, in fact, what he thought it had been, he takes the picture from Sole's grasp and flips it around to glance at the back.

"Look at that, you've even got a date tonight. Must be somewhere romantic, I can tell this guy's old school." He nodded, flipping the photo over to glance once again at the offensive imagery on the front. "Yeah, real traditional, I'd say. Hmm... Mind if I tag along? Could be fun." There was a certain sort of glint in the ghoul's eye that made Sole's spine tingle.

Perhaps neither of us should go... Sole thought, noticing how Hancock's other hand toyed absentmindedly with his combat knife as he furrowed his brows at the photo one last time, before shoving the paper into the pocket of his coat. There was a certain sort of intent behind his actions that made Sole re-think even showing him the image in the first place. Hancock had killed people over less; that, Sole knew for sure.

MacCready:

"Ahh! What the heck are you doing?! I don't need to see that!" He'd squeeze his eyes shut just as soon as he was able to make out the photo, shoving his hands in front of him as though they would be able to push the image out of his mind.

"It's too early for this, what the heck is that guy's problem?" MacCready shuddered as he pulled his hands slowly from where they covered his eyes, glancing quickly at Sole before lowering them down completely, a relieved expression on his face as realized the picture was no longer in his line of sight. Noting his dramatic reaction, Sole considered toying with the mercenary a bit. They asked him what was wrong with the image, stating that perhaps they would pay this man a visit tonight. It had been so long since they had been out on a date, might as well go for it, right?

MacCready's eyes would simultaneously furrow, and widen at their words as he stuttered, finally finding his voice after a moment of shocked, choked silence.

"What?!" He exclaimed, "You're not seriously thinking of going, are you? That guy seems like such an ass-- Well, he just-- I mean..." He took a breath, and Sole had to bite their lip to hold back their grin. "Look, not that it's really any of my business or anything, but... don't you think you could do better than that guy? Like... a lot better?"

Sole couldn't hold back their grin any longer, but MacCready wouldn't meet their gaze. Instead he looked down at the floor, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand, a nearly unnoticeable blush spreading over his cheeks.

"That guy just seems like a real jerk, and you? Well... Yeah, you deserve better than that, I think." He finished rather awkwardly, finally looking up to meet Sole's gaze before returning their coy smile.

Nick:

The synth would a have a brief moment of raised eyebrows as he took in the details of the photograph, and then the inevitable scowl of disappointment would spread across his face.

"You know, you'd think this guy would understand that no one in their right mind wants to see that particular... angle. You don't think that's his good side, do ya?" Sole would smile a bit at that, and as the synth turned to walk away from the offensive image, they told him about the writing on the back.

"Hey now, wait a minute. You're not thinking of paying this guy a visit, are ya? If so, that's a pretty poor decision on your part, I think."

Sole would shake their head, telling Nick not to worry as he fixed his inquiring yellow gaze on them. He nodded in response, seeming satisfied by their answer. In the next moment, a thought seemed to claim his attention.

"Hmm... I think I might just know the perp, actually. Ellie's got a few reports back at the office mentioning some similar events. Guess it's possibly one of the guards on night duty who goes around with these to see if he gets any takers."

Sole almost spoke up, but as they opened their mouth, Nick's words seemed to take their idea straight from their head. "On second thought..." He said, "You got any plans for this evening?"

Piper:

"Ahh! Blue! Why would you show me that!?" She'd physically cover her eyes with her hands, taking a few steps back and away from the picture for good measure.

"Look, I don't care what you do with it," she'd tell them, "just don't let me see it again!"

Sole would thankfully oblige, but before disposing of the image, they showed Piper the writing on the back. At the sight of the man's suggestion, Piper snatched the photo from Sole's hand, glaring at it furiously.

"Ohhhh no he doesn't. If he's sent crap like this to anybody else, I'm going to make sure no one falls for this."

And Piper kept her word, as the next morning's addition of Publik Occurrences contained a small piece written on exactly this subject, titled: To the Asshole who sent the Sad Little Picture to a Disgusted Citizen; No One Wants to See That! Sincerely, Everyone who has.

Preston:

"O-- oh! Um, that's-- okay. That's just wrong. Do you want me to get rid of it for you?"

Preston's face would wrinkle up in his clear distaste before bringing a a hand up to shield his eyes. When Sole had lowered the picture, he removed his hand, and looked them in the eye, refusing to pay the photo any more attention, but extending his hand out to take it from them so he could dispose of it properly.

"Are you... okay? I can't believe how rude some people are. Who would want to see that?" He'd flash a sympathetic smile at them, as he folded up the photo and prepared to throw it away. He didn't read the back himself, but if they told him about the words that were written there, he wouldn't even entertain the idea of Sole going, just shaking his head in disappointment at the man's poor and rude way of trying in vain to woo his General.

"Some people... The nerve. If you don't mind me saying, General, you deserve much better than that anyway."

X6-88:

His eyes would be locked to Sole's, but as they presented the photo to him, his gaze would fall to the image, and an ever so slight furrowing of his brows would take place above his silver eyes. A brief moment would pass, and X6's gaze would be back on his companion's face.

"Ma'am/ sir, why did you feel the need to show me this?" He's also quite confused, this was not a common occurrence in the Institute, and once Sole gave him an explanation, his expression would remain blank. For the most part, anyway. A small huff of laughter would escape him, prompting Sole to be the one giving him the questioning look now.

"If this filthy wastelander believes he can disrespect the future director of the Institute without facing consequences, he is sorely mistaken." He said, his gaze unbroken as he made Sole this promise, "Don't worry, I will take care of this filth at the specified meeting time and location. You will not hear from him again."

He doesn't necessarily intend to kill the man for his unseemly behavior; X6 is a courser after all, and he knew this man would be scared shitless if X6 were to so much as look at him the wrong way, but should the man make any... poor decisions in response to the courser's confrontation, well... certainly X6 can't be held responsible for the behavior, or the fate, of a mere stranger now, could he? Especially after his heinous actions.

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