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thevoilinauttheory · 3 years

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The Great Eight

[ In lieu of the Rising event ending tomorrow - and myself, just now finishing it - I had some words I wanted to get out.

I get this type of nostalgia - it hurts, it physically hurts my chest; I feel sick to my stomach, and I just want to cry. I’ve asked others if they ever feel this way, but I’ve never gotten a yes to it.

The Rising always gives me this feeling. It’s be eight years since I first picked up XIV. Eight whole years. That’s a slap to the face, it’s been so long and it feels so short. I wish I could give people the same experiences and feeling I had for this game - the pain and happiness this nostalgia brings me. When I say this game means so much to me, it’s not an exaggeration. This game changed my life - I wish to share it a little bit with you. I touched on some of it in the past, but here I’m laying it all out. ]

[ I first started playing in 2013, when a friend recommended the game to me shortly after the game’s rerelease. They were ecstatic to have another player join them, and I owe them a lot for the experiences they gave me. My very first character was Raramlah Ramlah - she was a paladin, because that’s what I mained in WoW. I realized shortly that a tank probably wasn’t the best way to go, but also that my computer at the time couldn’t handle playing it, due to the graphics.

I gave it another shot in 2014, that’s when I made Danny Harold. He was the first character I ever got to level 50. I absolutely loved the game, when I wasn’t sitting idly for my friends to come online as I had with Raramlah; when I picked it up of my own accord. I remember I was in the hospital when I first picked it back up, when I first made him and leveled him through Gridania. But I was still going intermittedly between it and WoW. I missed the first Rising due to ignorance.

2015 comes around, and I’m in a stressful place. I just started a new job, and I’m finally able to live on my own with little issues from my disabilites. However, my apartment complex didn’t have internet, and so I’d take my laptop to Starbucks and sit there until they closed playing WoW instead. I wanted to spend what little time I had on the internet with the friends I already had grown close to. Year 2 went on without me. But it still wasn’t all bad. Near the end of 2015, Maximiloix Voilinaut was created - and when I started up my XIV tumblr account under “ishgardianscholar”. See, I had made it to Heavensward on Danny when I found out that someone I had met through a friend was starting up a new character for the purpose of RP. I thought to myself “I want an Ishgardian character” - and rolled a new one. It was a new adventure, a clean slate, with a couple of friends I knew from WoW to join me.

Here comes 2016... and WoW had let me down. My disabilites came back full force, and I was left bed bound and reliant on partial disability from my workplace while waiting for SSDI to start kicking into effect. My roommates did little to help take care of the house we were renting, lied to me about their incomes, and forced me to use what little money I was getting to pay for everything myself. I’m short a total of 2000$ because of it. But. But. That was the best year of my fucking life. It ruined me, that year ruined my life, but it was the happiest I had ever been. Lothaire Voilinaut was first conceived and Maximiloix became my pride and joy as a character, I found the class I wanted to keep playing - I made friends, so many of them! So, so many of them! And I loved them, and I still do! I miss them terribly. If I could relive one year of my life... it would be that year. What I would give just to feel that way again - because I had never felt it since. I didn’t realize until Year 3′s Rising came around, how nostalgic just the few short times and experiences were to me. Because I was met with two things... the first song that truly captured me in Final Fantasy games (Prelude), and the first song I ever heard in the game itself (A New Hope). I cried there. Music has always hit me so hard, and I never realized just how much this game meant to me until then. This was how I knew I would stay - that XIV had my heart for good.

2017, during the release of Stormblood, I went homeless. I had wanted so badly to see my first expansion release - and only witnessed second hand “Raubahn EX”. My friends moved on without me, and I was left alone again to start playing. But I told myself already. XIV had my heart, there was no reason to go back to WoW. So I didn’t. I didn’t, and I don’t regret it. This is when I truly started playing Lothaire fully - and when I met my spouse, he became my main. I made it to Year 4, and cried just as much.

2018 - with the loss of friends, did I find new ones. It wasn’t the best time of my life, but I wouldn’t trade the memories for a thing. Year 5 came and went faster than I could blink, but that was it. I heard the music, I remembered my first Rising, I remembered all the times I had before. And I cried.

2019 started off rough. I moved across the country and had a hard time finding a place to live. I got it down, started a new job... and made it to the release of Shadowbringers. I had grown so much since I first started - and the expansion release was everything I wanted it to be, regardless of the issues that came with it (though I’ve been told that it was a far smoother release than the others). I was so excited... and I was not let down. XIV upheld its standards and presented to me a game worthy of pushing onto my friends no matter how annoyed they got with me about it (looking at you @rose-color-boy). Everything about it was a pure masterpiece, people think I’m exaggerating. But this game had done so much for me, that finally, now, I got to witness something I always wanted to. Sure, I didn’t have many friends to start the expansion with... but the story captivated me immediately. Year 6... and I cried.

2020. There wasn’t much to say about it, I was stuck inside all year and I hit a bad patch during the end of it, but... Year 7. It hit me like a truck. It gave me goosebumps, it gave me laughs, and ultimately, it gave me tears. I actually sobbed, this time. Remembering everything I gone through hurt me so badly, the nostalgia was coming in hard. But I knew, in the end, this game would always be here for me. This game had wormed its way into my heart accidentally, and yet I feel like I couldn’t live without it.

This year. Perhaps it didn’t hit me as hard - I still cried. This game means so much to me. So, so much. It hurts, it really and physically hurts how much it means to me. This game made everything in my stressful life so much easier, littered the pain with good memories. I can recall bad places I was in, and associate it with something good that happened to me in the game. 2020 - I got knee surgery... but 5.3 had just released and holy shit. My spouse got a little annoyed at me that the only thing I was listening to was the theme of that last battle (To the Edge). It helped me get through it, the pain and the misery I felt from not being able to walk. 2019 - Work was driving my depression in deep, and I didn’t want to live and continue the pain I was feeling... but I got to the end of 5.0 and only wanted more. I wanted to know what happened next. I still remember that one cutscene, how they got me attached to a minor character so quickly and ripped her away just as fast; and the first dungeon? Experiencing the Trust System, and going through this intense battle on a grand scale with the help of the friends they kept on the sidelines for so long. 2018 - My life was monotonous and I had three other people living with me in my one-bedroom apartment. One of my roommate’s ex’s was now stalking him around my apartment, and work was becoming physically taxing on my legs. But I remember how much fun I had doing maps - and the release of the Tsukuyomi fight? That whole scene there? Oh, wow, it was so bittersweet. The fight was beautiful, the music was haunting, everything about it. Not to mention the ending solo-instances and Ghymlit? The Burn? Omega? The Four Lords? As much as I disliked them (due to my computer issues), even Rabanastre was memorable. 2017 - I was homeless, forced to work a job my body couldn’t handle. I met my spouse, though. I became heavily invested with my tumblr account, doing a full re-write of it all. While I wasn’t much of a fan of the expansion itself, there were some places that really opened my eyes. Azim Steppes? So beautiful - and gotta hand Y’shtola the award for sickest burn. Then I heard my favorite piece of music, and the most nostalgic for me when it comes to SB, Skalla’s theme (Far From Home).

Lastly, I know this has been long. But I thank everyone around me for being so supportive and kind - I may not be in a good place, but know that every good thing that happens will be associated to this moment. I’ll look back on Year 8 and go “my security was compromised, and my anxiety ran high, but there were these people here who supported me on tumblr, that kept my blog running strong”. I will remember my roleplays, I will remember the music and scenery - even now, I’m getting nostalgic about Shadowbringers, and Endwalker hasn’t even come out yet! So thank you. Here’s to year number 8 - 8 whole years of XIV being in my life. It may not have been that long for many of you, some of you, this might be your first year; hell! Some of you, it’s been longer! But know that this community has helped me so much, and I can’t wait to continue being a part of it. Here’s to the eventual tears Year 9 will bring me! ]

#ooc #ffxiv #the rising #sorry for the long post #but there were so many feelings i had to get out before i wrote my prompt #tl;dr #i love you all and thank you for making my experiences with this game the best thing to ever happen to me #thank you for making this game mean so much to me

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raelly-writing · 3 years

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Departures

Thancred/f!WoL with Alisaie&WoL. Takes place before the patch 5.3 segment of Bozja. SFW :) I feel a bit rusty and have struggled with writing something I feel happy with, but wanted to try and finish something at least so I can move on to other stuff.

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“I still wish I could go with you.”

Alisaie’s exasperated tone made Viana look up from her travel pack to offer the young woman a small smile. “And I’d love to have you,” she replied earnestly. “Both of you.”

She looked over her shoulder to Thancred where he was seated by her desk. Clearly sensing her eyes on him, he looked up from her gunblade. The furrow between his brows deepened, but he turned his attention back to carefully cleaning out the disassembled chamber.

Not that he needed to say anything; it was obvious he shared Alisaie’s sentiment, though he knew there was no point in him trying to argue for it. Without a word, he’d taken her gunblade from her and sat down to clean it while she packed the rest of her things ahead of leaving early the next morning.

Sighing, Viana walked over to her cabinet. “But as much as I may want to have you by my side out there, I wager Krile would sooner physically restrain the lot of you than let you travel to a warzone.” She frowned at the small rack holding the pre-prepared potions, and picked up two healing ones, leaving one vial behind. Making a mental note to ask Tataru for a restock, she turned back towards Alisaie, just as she with a huff settled down on the bed, next to the open bag.

“But I feel fine.”

Viana snorted and raised an eyebrow. “You say that now,” she retorted as she put the vials into their designated leather travel case. The antidote vial in the case was still nearly full so no need to get more of that at least. “But you don’t know how you’ll feel after a few nights of poor sleep, and several hours of fighting. A few starved and desperate gryphons are a far cry from an imperial legion and magitek units.”

“She’s right,” Thancred chimed in, his tone the same firm, matter-of-fact one he would usually take when he and Ryne were disagreeing on something. He didn’t look up from the cylinder he was reassembling as he continued, “We’re all still recovering physically. If we were out there, we’d be a source of distraction, and not nearly to as much help as we might want to believe.”

Alisaie threw him a sour look, like she felt betrayed by him not siding with her on the matter. For a moment, it looked like she might argue with him, but instead, she turned her head to glare down at the floor. “I know. I just…” She bit her lip, her shoulders tense as she dug her fingers into the bed cover. “I don’t like sitting here, useless,” she continued, her voice tense. “Especially when you’re walking into yet another warzone, and this time, you won’t have Lyse, or Yugiri and Hien, or anyone else you know and trust there to back you up. The last time I should have been...” She fell silent, but the unsaid words hung heavy in the air.

Viana paused, her chest knotting with sympathy and a faint unease - the memory of Ghimlyt still haunted them both it seemed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Thancred’s hands briefly still, before he continued tinkering with her gunblade.

“You’re not useless,” she responded firmly as she walked back to the bed.

It did nothing to make Alisaie relax or cease with her attempt to glare a hole into the floor. Attempts at coddling were never appreciated by her, that much Viana knew. Hells, at that age, she’d never liked it when people older than her had tried to talk down to her either. But youthful eagerness to leap into the next fray, heedless of one’s limits, was always something to look out for, and gently but firmly redirect elsewhere.

Reaching out, she put a hand on Alisaie’s shoulder and squeezed. “The best you can do right now,” she continued, “is what will make your recovery the swiftest it can be. Running headlong into an dangerous situation may at best result in you pushing yourself beyond what you’re capable of at this moment, or at worst, you might injure yourself and just set yourself back even more.”

Finally, Alisaie looked up, their eyes meeting. For a moment, her brow remained creased and mouth pressed together in a thin line, until finally the steel in her gaze softened a little. “Well, I suppose moping about it won’t do you or me any good.”

Relieved to see her mood shift towards something better, a crooked smile quirked the corner of Viana’s mouth. “No it won’t.” When she felt Alisaie’s shoulder relax, she gave it another squeeze before letting her hand drift off it. “Besides,” she continued while lowering her voice, not really trying to keep herself from being overheard in the stillness of the room, “someone’s got to make sure Thancred doesn’t slack off while I’m gone.”

“I heard that.”

Thancred’s deadpan voice made them both burst into quiet laughter. And with that, the air felt a little less thick with tension.

As her laughter subsided, Alisaie’s posture relaxed completely. “Fine, I get what you mean.”

“I’m glad,” Viana replied and turned back to the parts of her gear lying on the bed. Picking up the bag she usually attached to her belt, she put the case with the potion vials inside it as she continued speaking, “Hien and the rest of Doma might not be able to aid the resistance directly, but Yugiri volunteered to personally run any messages I might have for you all. Alphinaud knows how to get in touch with her as well, should the need arise.”

“It’d be good to see her again,” Alisaie responded, her voice soft and a bit more cheerful.

Viana made a quiet, humming noise of agreement while continuing to pack some spare clothes into her bag. “Wager she feels much the same.”

A comfortable silence settled over them for a short moment, until Alisaie spoke up once more, “You’re leaving early, right?”

“I am, yes.”

A smile broke out on her features as she stood up from the bed. “I’ll leave you to finish packing then. Come say good-bye before you go?”

With a soft laugh, Viana nodded. “I promise. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Alisaie,” Thancred said lightly, his attention still on the gunblade.

Alisaie paused with one hand on the door handle and glanced back at Thancred. “Don’t keep her up for too long while ‘saying good-bye’.”

There was a sharp pling of metal hitting metal accompanied by a startled noise, barely audible under Viana’s scandalised shout of the young elezen woman’s name. Before either of them had time to formulate a reply, Alisaie had already slipped out the door with a cheerful “Good night!” thrown over her shoulder.

Viana crossed her arms and stared at the closed door, her cheeks burning furiously. Of course she held no illusions whether Alisaie, or any of the others, remained oblivious to what was going on between her and Thancred - the sly quips and jabs from all of them made that quite clear - but the blatant insinuation had caught her entirely off-guard.

A heavy sigh from behind her made her turn to look towards Thancred just as he leaned down to pick up the small metal ring he’d apparently dropped. “Perhaps I should count myself lucky that she mostly holds her tongue in public,” he grumbled. “Not sure the shreds of my dignity would survive.”

It was hard not to quirk a smile at his grumpy tone. “She just enjoys teasing you.” A glimmer on the floor in the lantern light caught her attention and she moved to pick up a screw that had rolled out onto the floor. “Well, both of us, I suppose,” she added softly as she walked over to him.

Thancred murmured a ‘thank you’ when she placed the screw in his hand, but before she had a chance to return to pack the last of her things, he swiftly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her down into his lap.

Viana huffed out a quiet laugh through her nose, but he silently returned to reassembling the cleaned components, arms on each side of her.

“Not exactly the most productive working position,” she commented softly as she rested her arm over his shoulders and idly drew random patterns onto his back with her fingers.

“Works well enough, my dear,” he replied in that effortless, well-practised tone she knew was meant to mask whatever feelings he truly had.

She pursed her lips as she watched him work. For a moment, she considered calling him out on his bluff. It wasn’t as if they could avoid speaking of it. Which, if she guessed right, was precisely why he’d caught her like this in the first place. Sighing quietly, she dropped a kiss to the top of his head while still stroking his back.

Thancred’s hands stilled for a second, before he turned his head and pressed his cheek against her chest, the arm around her back tensing. “A moment.”

She replied with a quiet hum and brushed her fingers over the nape of his neck, her eyes still on his hands. Usually she quite enjoyed watching him work like this; to just quietly observe his nimble fingers twist and turn the small components of a gunblade, fiddle with a lockpick, or merely playing with whatever piece of string or fabric that might be within reach while he was completely absorbed in a book.

Stuck as he’d been reading his old journals and Riol’s reports to refresh and catch up on events in his absence, learning the ins and outs of her new gunblade had given him something else to occupy his hands with. By now, she was fairly certain he knew it just as well as his own. Which was why, despite that it didn’t take too long for him to finish up, she had the suspicion that he stalled a little just to gather his thoughts.

Finally, he held up the blade and gave it a critical once over, before setting it back down. With quick, efficient motions, he began wiping down the cleaning rods with a stained rag. “You need to refill your bottle with oil,” he commented while setting the rods back into her leather kit.

Viana glanced at the nearly empty bottle sitting on the desk. “There’s a flask of it in the cupboard,” she replied softly.

He nodded. “I’ll get it then.”

“Gonna have to let me up if you’re gonna do that, love.”

Thancred leaned back in the chair while his hands settled on her waist. He looked tired, his jaw tense and a hard edge to his eyes when he met her gaze.

It was a look that made her chest draw tight with concern. It felt like there was something other than just her impending departure that was on his mind. The silence stretched out between them, thick and heavy. Unsure of what to say to coax him into speaking of whatever was bothering him so, Viana raised a hand to caress his cheek before leaning down to press her lips to his in a chaste, hopefully soothing, kiss.

It was short and sweet, and a gentle reassurance that she’d be fine was right at the tip of her tongue, but they never made it past her lips.

With a sharp inhale, Thancred chased after her when she tried to part from him, his fingers digging into her hip while his other hand was quick to cradle her jaw. He swallowed her surprised gasp when he tugged her down to deepen the kiss, the scent of the cleaning oil that clung to his fingers sharp in her nose. A blazing warmth rushed up the back of her neck, while her heart quickened its pace and her thoughts scattered under the all too familiar yearning that he so skillfully stoked within her. The warm touch of his hand swept up beneath her shirt, leaving a trail of sparks behind as he let it idly roam over whatever he could reach of her, while still keeping her securely in his embrace. It was tempting to just surrender to it, to bury her hands in his hair and let the unspoken words die in favour of that carnal pleasure every caress of his lips promised.

Yet she would not let herself be swept up in it - not when she could all but taste the hard, cold undercurrent of something bitter in his fervent kisses.

Finding her voice, she pushed her hand against his chest. “Thancred.”

Immediately, he froze. “My apologies,” he rasped out, his breath a puff of hot air against her lips. The hold he’d had on her loosened, and she could sense that he would not stop her if she were to try and get up.

Rather than doing so, Viana relaxed and rested her forehead against his while she caressed his cheek. “What’s on your mind, love?”

Sighing, he nuzzled his nose against hers, before he finally responded, “Alisaie is right.”

“Whatever happened with ‘We’re still recovering’ and ‘we’ll be more of a distraction than help’?”

Thancred made an annoyed sound at the back of his throat. “Twelve, I know what I said.”

There was something he was not letting on. His tone was too guarded. Idly, she stroked her thumb over his cheekbone before leaning back a little. There was a stubborn set to his jaw and furrow between his brows. Unease bristled in her chest, a sharp and prickling concern for what was weighing so heavily on him. “You did not seem this worried when I ventured out to track down the weapon projects with Gaius,” she ventured carefully.

His expression darkened with a deep frown. “Because we all knew that Cid and the Ironworks would watch your back,” he responded firmly. “But out there, in Bozja, with the rebel forces? Who knows what’ll happen, who the Empire might have bought off with pretty promises or snuck in amongst the rank and file soldiers? We have no idea where Zenos is either. I should-” He abruptly fell silent and turned his head to the side, glaring off at her bookshelf like it was the sole source of his foul mood.

Viana raised an eyebrow and nervously wet her lips as she let her hand fall from his cheek to instead rest against his chest. “I don’t know where your head is at right now,” she began slowly, while trying to think of the right words to say. “But we’ve spoken of this. We both have our own duties to see to, and I know that you agree with me on the importance of that, so I can only guess that’s not why you’re bothered right now.”

She felt his fingers press into her hip, and tapped her fingers against his collarbone in turn. He glanced back at her, the grip on her hip tensing for a brief moment. The muscles at his jaw shifted as he clenched it, until he drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled. When he lowered his gaze, he relaxed his hold on her. “Forgive me… I… think I’m not used to you going off on your own, least of all into an active warzone,” he murmured. “Usually you have one of the twins with you at least, or that I’m close at hand myself, or… you’re with some other ally we know and trust.” He made a vague, hopeless gesture with his hand. “Bozja may as well be on the First, for all that I - or any of us - can help if something were to happen to you there.”

Despite his gruff tone, the little ball of anxiety in her chest loosened up. With a soft smile, Viana cradled his jaw and sought his gaze with her own. “Thancred, you’re allowed to be worried.”

He glanced up at her, his mouth still pressed together in a thin line and eyes stormy with emotions, but the hard lines in his expression had softened out a little. “I know you can take care of yourself,” he added firmly.

Humming softly, she brushed back a few strands of hair from his eyes. “Just like I knew you could take care of yourself while you were tracking Elidibus.” Quickly, she leaned down to brush her lips to his. “That doesn’t mean I did not fear that every hour I spent here at the Source was several hours I was not readily at hand in the First if you all needed me.”

With all that had been happening then, it had been hard to shake off the constant lingering fear that the moment she went to sleep, Feo Ul would be in her dreams to tell her that Elidibus had made his move in her absence, or that Thancred’s body had been found somewhere. Or worse, that they’d lost track of him entirely. Finding out later that he’d been hiding his dizzy spells from her hadn’t helped.

The memory of their hushed, hurried argument over that particular bit brought a bitter taste to her mouth. One bump on the road of them both learning and adjusting to being together with someone like this, but they had worked it out.

Thancred made a low, thoughtful noise that stirred her from her ruminations. Taking her hand in his, he pressed a light kiss to the back of her fingers. “Fair point, I suppose.”

Viana offered him a gentle smile. There was still some tension lingering in his expression, but she felt him relax against the back of the chair, his shoulders visibly slumping a little as he seemed to finally let go of whatever root cause for his mood had been. “You better now?” she asked.

He huffed out a tired chuckle. “I’d still be happier if we all were going with you.”

“Hmm, well, it’s like what I said to Alisaie,” she answered softly. “Best you all can do right now is to rest and recover. Fair chance there’s not much time before some matter or another requires you all out in the field once more.”

Thancred’s eyes softened and his smile turned a little rueful. “You too deserve some more time to rest.”

He raised a hand to cup her cheek and she leaned her head into his warm touch. She’d miss it in the coming weeks - miss all of them, now that she’d finally gotten them all back home once more. “I fear the world has other ideas,” she hummed. “It’s either now, or let the IVth legion solidify their hold on the region while the empire crumbles around them.” But he knew that - he, Riol and Alphinaud had all read the reports provided by the resistance just as diligently as she had.

Gently, Thancred pulled her back down for a slow, tender kiss that made her heart flutter in her chest and warmth rise on her cheeks. The kiss melted into another, his hand sliding up to cup the back of her head, until they somewhat reluctantly parted to catch their breaths. “I suppose barring the door is out of the question, hm? For just one more day at least?”

Chuckling at the rather well-worn joke - forever just a hushed whisper beneath warm covers they did not want to leave or a wistful remark in the lantern light on a eve such as this one - she pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “Afraid so, love.”

Thancred sighed softly, “Then I better get that flask refilled so you can pack everything away for tomorrow.”

“We have the rest of tonight.” She brushed one more kiss to his lips, craving those small intimate gestures with him that she’d have to go without with the coming of the morning light. “Let’s make the best use of it.”

“That sounds good, my dear.”

#thancred waters #Thancred #thancred x wol #alisaie leveilleur #My writing #Alisaie best little sister ok

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starswornoaths · 4 years

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Prompt 7: Nonagenarian

Oh hey, another one that got away from me. 5.0-5.3 spoilers, especially toward the end when perspectives change.

The Crystal Exarch did not have a nameday. And for little Lyna, that just would not do.

Word count: 2,222

The Crystal Exarch had long since lost track of when his nameday was, to say nothing of how many of them that had passed him by. Even long before the Crystarium rose around his tower, he had given up keeping track of his exact age. The community that turned to him for guidance didn’t ask, likely out of respect for what they recognized was a painful past of a kind man who tried to forget it all, even as he clung to all the good he had known and fought to save.

Little Lyna, however, the inquisitive little girl with bright, keen eyes and a need for familiarity with the man she viewed as a grandfather, had no hesitation in asking, even if she had already asked at least a dozen other times over the years, and had yet to receive a satisfactory answer.

“Exarch, when is your nameday?” She asked one year, as he had mentioned wanting to plan for her nameday coming up.

Her words were wrapped around a lisp, her teeth not quite grown in— soft, barely there if one wasn’t paying attention, but the Exarch always did. He always had time to listen to his granddaughter, even if he didn’t always have it in him to be honest with her. Or anyone, really.

“I don’t have one!” He replied, as he always did.

And as always, that didn’t satisfy her.

When she puffed her cheeks out in annoyance at him, he paused in pursuing their pantry shelves for cake ingredients to ruffle the hair between her ears. Batting his hand away and giving a whine in the back of her throat as she tried to fix her mussed up bangs, she scowled up at him.

“You have to have one! Everyone does!” Lyna insisted.

“I’m not everyone, and I am quite certain I do not have a nameday, little one.”

“That’s not true!” She raised her voice, startling him. “Why can’t you just tell me!”

She growled in frustration and stamped her foot, and at first he had been prepared to calm another fit, as children are wont to have, but then when he turned to face her at a soft sniffle, he realized she was legitimately upset— and worse, that he had upset her.

“Lyna—”

He knelt down to her level, hand reaching out toward her again. Not teasing this time, but comforting, a hand on her shoulder as she ducked her head. He heart squeezed— she only ever hid her face from him so when she was trying not to cry.

When she shoved his hand away with both of hers with a hiccup and scrubbed at her own eyes, he couldn’t find it in him to blame her.

“Lyna, tell me how I’ve upset you.” He requested, deliberately keeping his voice soft.

He already knew why she was upset, but it was important that she learn the words to express her upset, and that she should be able to give voice to them when she was hurt, even by family. Especially by family.

“You always lie to me.” The little Viis girl sobbed, knuckles still rubbing at her eyes. “You’re my grandpa and I don’t know anything about you!”

The Exarch paused again, hand hovering in the space between them before resting his forearm on his knee as he watched her weep, his heart twisting at the sight. Deep down, in that part of him that remembered he had once had a name and had wanted to be someone to someone stirred at being loved in such a simple, familial way. Demanded that he comply with his granddaughter’s one wish: to give him a nameday and not argue with her on the point.

He had already failed in distancing himself so she wouldn’t mourn him when he died, reasoned the part of him that remembered he had once been G’raha Tia. Would it be so awful to give her something happy to cling to? Something she could say she did?

Hadn’t that been what he had wanted more than anything as a little boy, clinging to his books of history and fairy tales alike, because they accepted him for who he was more than his tribe had?

“I’m sorry, little one.” The Exarch murmured, voice only just louder than her sniffles and hiccups. “I try to protect you from everything, but in so doing, I fear I’m only hurting you.”

When she peered up at him with wide, glassy eyes through the fringe of her bangs, he offered her a remorseful but pleading smile.

“In truth, I forgot when my nameday was.” He said, technically in truth for how he had lost track of the Eorzean calendar, and how it could translate to Norvrandt’s. “So I simply don’t have one.”

“Then I’ll give you one!” She pointed at him with another stamp of her foot. “Everyone deserves a nameday!”

A simplistic, if genuine argument. It wasn’t a matter of not deserving one, but not wanting to keep one, not wanting to know. Bad enough that he was distantly aware that he was a nonagenarian at that point, bad enough that he had to live with the guilt he had. No, having an actual nameday would be a line to cross, every year, that would remind him of how long he had lived like this, how long he had to wait to right a wrong he hadn’t even been around to try and prevent. Having such a marker would make it worse.

“Tell you what, Lyna.” The Exarch smiled, and held out the hand not yet claimed by the tower. “You can pick a day— any day of the year, any one that you like— and you can celebrate it for me.”

“...Promise?” Lyna asked, not yet accepting his handshake and giving him a suspicious side eye.

“I promise.” He swore with a firm nod.

After another moment of her examining his offered hand, a smile slowly bloomed on her face as she accepted his handshake. They shook on it, hands bobbing in one single shake. And after a moment, the Exarch offered his arms stretched wide for a hug. With a giddy laugh, Lyna leapt into them and let her grandfather scoop her up in a hug.

It was maybe a week later, maybe a mite longer, that he found a lumpy, misshapen little cake on his desk. The frosting ran off the side, more watery icing sugar than true frosting, and the cake was half burned with lumps of unmixed flour dotting the inside. Beside the child’s baking attempt, there sat a little crayon drawing of what appeared to be a very red man with triangles on his head holding hands with a little grey, stretched out stuck bunny beside him. Above the little sketch of him and Lyna, the words, “HAPPEE NAMDAY GRAMPA” were written, the letters alternating in color between what crayons she had at her disposal.

The was the best nameday cake he had ever had.

As the years wore on, and Lyna outgrew him almost one and a half times over as she matured into the strong, powerful, dignified Captain that he had always thought she could be, she never forgot. It was almost their little secret.

It was never the same day of the year— that never really mattered anyroad— but one day, each day of the year, Lyna would leave a little cake and a note for him, wishing him a happy nameday. The innocent and unskilled drawings of a youthful child gave way over the years to respectful but muted letters of well wishes and expressions of gratitude, wrapped in hopes that he had a pleasant day. Despite the ever increasin professionalism with which she carried herself, Lyna had never once lost a bit of that warmth that made people follow her into the jaws of death itself.

Then one year, decades after they had established that the Exarch got to have a nameday, that Lyna chose to deliver his cake in person.

The cake itself was her best yet. Vanilla buttercream frosting made fresh that morning piped in a perfect little mound atop a little spice cake that perfectly fit in the palm of her hand. A perfect, singular serving. She had packed a little satchel with a thick blanket, a thermos of tea to compliment the cake, (a nice black tea, strong enough to balance out the sweetness of the cake,) and set out early that morning.

She had the day off, and had found herself wanting for the Exarch’s counsel. The people had begun to turn to her more and more in recent times, and though she offered them a sturdy pillar to lean on, she wondered if this was beyond her scope as Captain of the guard. If anyone would know how best to proceed, it would be him. That, and she hadn’t gotten around to celebrating his nameday this year. She would be remiss to let it pass by— she never had before, and was not going to stop now.

The stairs were numerous, and the path not quite familiar enough that she didn’t have to take heed of where she was going, but Lyna made it to him just as she had hoped she would. The dawn was just breaking beyond the horizon, and there was a light, sweet breeze drifting between the broad crystal pillars that held up the ceiling to this platform, at the very top of the Crystal Tower. The hallway between here and where her grandfather was resting was as a yawning expanse before her, giving the already ostentacious room an even more grandiose air.

All her life, Lyna had felt small compared to the might of the Crystal Exarch. This room felt the most like him, in that regard.

“Good morning.” Lyna said quietly when at last she stopped before her grandfather. “You did not assume me neglectful of your nameday, I hope?”

She averted her eyes as she removed her satchel and rolled the blanket out beside him. It was thick enough to be comfortable when she situated herself on it, sitting with her knees crossed. She set the cake down in the space between them, on a little kerchief, and took a few moments to pour herself a cup of tea in the calm quiet of the room.

Then, she began to speak. She told him of all that was happening in the Crystarium, all that the people had come to ask of her in his absence. There were children born in recent days that had asked after the Exarch’s name to give to them. Lyna instead offered them a name from any one of the tales that her grandfather had told her growing up, names of heroes that had stood up to do the right thing, whether that had been to proffer a blade to an enemy or give comfort to a friend. Between each tale, every bit of information she had to catch him up on, she would take a bite of the cake. Resources were not so plentiful that she would waste it in offering— and if the Exarch were here, that would be the last thing he would want from her.

The sun rose higher in the sky, catching the crystal of her grandfather’s torso. She brushed the crumbs away from her blanket and stood.

“I hope my report was sufficient.” Lyna murmured, rolling the blanket back up and sticking it back in her satchel. Her thermos, emptied of tea, soon followed. “...You could do with some plants here to keep you company. I cannot always be here.” After a moment, she said, almost to herself, “Perhaps we might start a garden here. Your garden.”

She looked back at her grandfather. Enshrined forever in crystal, eyes forever facing forward, the outlines of his face gleamed in the rising sun. His expression was that same, steadfast calm she had always known him to possess. Of all the things that were a mystery of him, she never once wondered if he had the courage to face his destiny. She had learned to tackle it head on from the best, after all.

“My duties will keep me away most of the time.” She told him, and in a strange way, she made this the goodbye she didn’t get to have. Or the closest thing she could make to it, anyroad. “But I will come back— as long as I live, you have a nameday, after all, remember?”

Her eyes stung. Her satchel felt heavy, slung over her shoulder— or perhaps that was because her heart felt lighter now. She had a rather long walk down to think on it. Through the blur of her tears and the warm, bright glow of the morning light, for a moment, she saw him— not the crystal, but the man that had taught her how to bake a cake, how to wield a weapon, how to be the woman she had become, smiling at her.

When she blinked her tears away, he was gone. But then, he had never been there at all— and that was okay. He was happy, on that far flung somewhere he used to tell her stories about. Just as he had always wanted.

“Happy nameday, grandfather.” Lyna said to him, and left.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxiv #5.0 spoilers #5.3 spoilers #shadowbringers spoilers #Crystal Exarch #ffxiv Lyna #idk how this one ran away from me the way that it did but it Did and I'm okay with this

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kireilixie · 4 years

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when push comes to shove. || Hwang Hyunjin

🪐 ｓｕｍｍａｒｙ : Fights were inevitable, no matter how good the relationship is.

🪐ｐａｉｒｉｎｇ : Hwang Hyunjin x Dancer ! Reader

🪐ｇｅｎｒｅ: Fluff, Colllege AU!

🪐ｗｏｒｄｃｏｕｎｔ: 5.3 k

🪐ｗａｒｎｉｎｇ : a few swear words,

🪐 ａｕｔｈｏｒ＇ｓｎｏｔｅ: Hello Nika here! To be honest this fic was inspired by an argument I once had with Nise @lavenderlattaes HAHA Hope you enjoy this short fic. ~ Stay safe everyone and have a good day ♡

Fights were inevitable, no matter how good the relationship is. There will come a time when you can't help but disagree, your opinions differ, you say something out of the line, you do something to hurt the feelings of the other person. Fights will test your relationship, it can either improve it or tear your relationship apart.

Ever since entering college, you and Hyunjin have been joined by the hip. He had been the first friend you had made ever since you had seen the little key chain of the animated version of his long-haired Chihuahua, you both had bonded over your fondness for the loyal and intelligent beings.

It’s your third year, double majoring in dance and the humanities, with your finals and hell week approaching, not to mention the year-end performance you had to prepare for, your plate was full for the coming days. And to your disappointment is the cherry on top, namely Hwang Hyunjin, who had been avoiding you like the plague since your last hip hop class which you had every Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Which to be honest was giving you such a pain in the ass with both of you being assigned a duet for your contemporary class. On most occasions, you and Hyunjin would’ve been hyped for your first duet knowing you both have waited for this opportunity since you had become friends.

Unfortunately, this was not your week at all. It all started during the previous hip hop class, you both had been observing his younger sister, Yeji perform a few moves you had also seen Hyunjin practice in his spare hours. Though unlike Hyunjin’s clumsy movements, Yeji performed the quick steps precisely and without any hesitation, pulling it off flawlessly.

Busy gaping in awe at Yeji’s skills, you miss the defensive and icy stare the older Hwang makes. “Wah! Wasn’t that what you had been practicing a few days ago, Jinnie? And Yeji’s pulling it off in a few days, damn you’ve got some competition there Hwang.” You had teased him with the harmless joke.

Unbeknownst to you, you had hit a little bit too close to home with your small quip.

“Well good for her then.” It takes your mind a moment to register snark in his words before he’s leaving you in the practice room, stunned by the poison-laced with his statement.

The conversation had bothered you ever since, wondering what had made him so defensive and rude to you, his best friend. And if it was necessary to ignore you for a week because of that.

So you find yourself in the company of your older friends namely, Seo Changbin, the senior was actually a mutual friend of Hyunjin and yours. Though because you shared multiple classes with the up and coming producer, you found yourself in his company over the past few days ever since your scuffle with Hyunjin.

“Seo Changbin, were you even listening to me?” You’re glaring at the older male with your arms crossed in disbelief, finding the older male typing away to your other friends, which also happens to be Hyunjin’s friends.

“Yes, but you lost me at the practice room.”

“Which means you haven’t been listening to me at all Bin!” You’re frustrated at this point, from your performance tasks to your upcoming exams to the year-end performance and last but not least, your friendship with Hyunjin. You blink back the tears that pool at the corner of your eyes, feeling the stress weigh you down.

Hearing the frustration in your voice, the older male panics setting down his phone to pull you to sit next to him. He strokes your head as he allows you to lean into his shoulder. “There, there Y/n, I’m sorry please please don’t cry.” I don’t want to die at the hands of Hwang Hyunjin not until I get my first girlfriend at least. Came Changbin’s panicked thoughts at the sight of watery dark orbs.

“Y/n, look it’s the week of our finals, why don’t you focus on that for now?” Changbin wiping your cheeks for any tears that may have escaped with his thumb. Helping you breathe through the slight tremble of your lips. “I know Hyunjin’s your best friend, but you have other priorities especially as a double major, set this aside for now, and focus on finals. And once finals are finished you can talk to Hyunjin.”

“I know Bin, it’s just that we have contemporary tomorrow, it’s our last class with Mr. Park before finals. I mean we already had the choreography and everything for the duet, but we have to perform full out tomorrow for Mr. Park.” Playing with the ends of your sweater paws, unconsciously pressing your nails into your hands forming little crescents in your annoyance with the situation.

Sighing the older male grabs your hands to make you stop hurting yourself. “Hey, I’m not promising anything but I’ll see if I could talk some sense into that brat. Though Y/n are you really sure you don’t know what you said wrong? Something that you know, would hurt Hyunjin’s feelings?”

“We were talking about dance and then we saw Yeji and- Oh.” It clicks in your head, what the older male was insinuating. “But it was a joke, I hadn’t meant for it to come out that way.” You’re pouting at the pointed look Changbin gives you.

“Yes, but when you say something that a person is insecure about it can sting much more especially when it comes from someone you care about.” You find yourself nodding at Changbin’s words agreeing with what he just said. “And hey, maybe time apart would give you something to think about, like how you feel.” The older male gives you a small smile of reassurance, which leaves you wondering about what he implied.

Nevertheless, friends or not you both needed to pass Mr. Park’s expectations. You’ll have to settle for a bit of professionalism for your next contemporary class.

The next day you find yourself a tad bit earlier for the class, stretching your limbs for the grueling class you see some of your classmates come in, but still no Hyunjin. It’s rare for him to be late, especially for anything related to dance, you’re pulling your leg up, earphones in and with your back toward the door.

And with the help of the dance room’s mirrors, you see a familiar tall figure being pushed through the entrance, by Minho, an older but mutual friend you and Hyunjin also shared.

You’re turning around at the commotion caused by the two, Hyunjin meeting your eyes both of you sending icy glares towards each other. The tension was too thick for the other dancers not to notice, an eerie silence surrounding the dance room.

It was obvious all the other dancers knew something was wrong, they had never seen you and Hyunjin like this. It was often rowdy and playful once you two were within reach of the other, seeing you both at each other’s throat was like seeing hell frozen over.

Breaking your eye contact, Hyunjin, legit stomps through the room before pushing his way into the dressing rooms to get changed. All the dancers are quick to turn away, continuing whatever they were doing before they were distracted by Hyunjin’s little tantrum.

You’re scoffing at Hyunjin’s dramatic behavior, and how petty he looked. You were both nineteen for goodness sake. And here I was ready to apologize for what I said. I guess I’ll have to wait until his little tantrum finishes. Your rolling your eyes at how ridiculous your best friend could be.

Hyunjin had always been open about his temper and stubbornness with you, but never in your years of being friends were you on the receiving end of that temper, it was often Jisung, Seungmin, or even Jeongin on the receiving end, until today I guess.

You feel pressure on your back as you’re pushed deeper into your straddle looking up you find Minho leaning in to whisper to you. “Hey whatever’s going on with you both, quit it, we can’t have that just a few days before the show.”

“You should be saying that to the rude brat over there.” You gesture to the taller male in the other end of the room, stretching with the help of Felix who happily chatters with Hyunjin, grinning happily and excitedly in spite of the tension that encircles the room.

This causes Minho, to push you deeper with mercy, making you yelp in pain and shock at the sudden force pressing on your hips. Your yelp turns the heads of the of other dancers for a bit before they’re resuming their warm-ups or simply recalling choreography.

“Fix it or I swear to god, I will lock up both of your dumb asses in a closet until you’re dating or friends again.” The threat sends chills down your spine, suddenly terrified of the senior you find yourself nodding. “I already talked to him to play nice for today.”

Minho’s helping you up for your stretched position when Mr. Park enters the room with his close eyed smile and jubilant persona. He’s greeting you all a good morning before he instructs you all to find your space within the room for drills. You stand next to Minho, who rolls his eyes at you refusing to stand next to Hyunjin for drills which you usually do. In the mirror’s reflection, you find Felix’s confused gaze and Hyunjin’s resting bitch face, you’re shaking your head at Minho who mutters under his breath. “Brats.”

“Okay, now that we’re all warmed up, let me see your dance.” Your instructor, Park Jimin, drags a chair to the front to observe your dance. Your dance had been divided between the different students, you and Hyunjin receiving the duet had made you enthusiastic for this piece but with your banter, you could only pray and hope that you make it through class today.

You see Minho move to the front for his solo, his graceful movement and form leaving you entranced. It leaves you dazed for a few moments before you hear Hyunjin call out your name.

“Hey, let’s practice.” Hyunjin’s motioning you over with his hand, you both face the mirror absolutely making no eye contact with each other as you run through the steps with him, muttering the counts under your breath as you do so. You’re unsure of how you manage through the lifts and the stunts, but you do manage.

Once Minho finishes receiving corrections and comments, Mr. Park calls you over a tad bit too enthusiastic for your piece. Well you couldn’t really blame him, the choreography was quite intricate and eye-catching, and once you had the right emotions to portray this piece would be beautiful. You could only hope you meet his expectations and bring justice to his piece, but alas if only Hyunjin’s pettiness could be contained in his 179 cm body.

Once the music starts, you’re performing the steps as you count in your head, refusing to meet Hyunjin’s eyes as you’re doing the stunts and the choreography. You swear you could hear Minho’s exasperated sigh at how awkward and stiff you both are, there are murmurs of how unexpected the tension between you and Hyunjin is.

Once you finish you are greeted by the sight of Mr. Park’s crestfallen features, you feel it tug at your heartstrings, also disappointed in the performance yourself. “Well technically, you both were great, you both remembered the corrections from last week. Y/n, you remembered to use your core in the lift, and you Hyunjin your arabesque was great, just remember to fondu before it.”

He pauses to frown, a rare sight for your good-natured teacher, knowing Mr. Park even a toddler would know that he’s disappointed with how down turned his lips were. “Where’s the emotion? The chemistry in this dance? You’ve got to give the choreography justice?”

“Show me the lift.” At his instruction you feel Hyunjin’s hands at your waist, tight and secure, at your instructor’s signal, you feel Hyunjin bend before gaining momentum to lift you. Mr. Park’s closer now, arranging your arms so that your hand caresses Hyunjin’s cheek. “Now bring her down.”

You feel Mr. Park guide you closer to Hyunjin, allowing the younger male to pull you flush against him, allowing your body to be magnetized to his as he lowers your form. You can hear Hyunjin’s breath hitch at how close you both are, suddenly you’re unsure whether who’s heartbeat is racing. Is it Hyunjin’s or your’s?

“Now gaze at her, as if she’s the only woman you’ll love.” Hyunjin’s tilting your head up to meet your eyes, for the first time since the class had started. You’re resisting against the urge to tuck his dark locks behind his ear, noting that he had decided to let his hair grow out. You feel his breathing against your lips, noses bumping into one another at the close proximity. You feel his hooded gaze on your lips, feeling your eyelids slip close.

“THERE PERFECT.” At Mr. Park’s voice, your foreheads are bumping into one another’s forehead and you’re jumping a meter back from one another, flushed in embarrassment in forgetting the presence of the other dancers in the room. Hyunjin’s turning away from you scratching at his nape, a habit of his when he’s embarrassed.

You feel your cheeks heat up at how close you two were, you’re pressing your palms into your cheeks hoping to relive some of the blood flow. You see Minho’s eyebrows wiggle at you from the mirror’s reflection adding to your annoyance.

By the end of the class not only are you both drenched in sweat and tired, but you also find yourself flustered at the multiple times Mr. Park had asked you to repeat some parts of the dance and being the perfectionist that he is, it had made you not only exhausted but also flustered at the numerous times Mr. Park had blatantly pushed your heads or bodies closer until he was satisfied.

You’re running out of the practice room before Hyunjin could even talk to you, the current situation not only confusing you but also sending your heart beating it makes you ponder if you should see a doctor at how fast your heart is beating.

The day before your finals, you’re cooped up in your apartment you hadn’t seen Hyunjin since your last contemporary class and this time you’re the one avoiding him. This had confused the older boys during lunch yesterday, seeing you snooping through the cafeteria till your seated with them.

“What on earth are you doing?” Chan had asked you through a mouthful of his sandwich, embarrassed to be friends with you at how you had practically acted out a whole scene Mission Impossible for the whole student body to see.

“She’s hiding from Hyunjin.” Minho answers from behind you surprised you had squeaked at the sight of the older dancer glowering at your form before he takes his seat next to you.

“And why is that?” Woojin’s looking up from his Politics and Governance 101 book, intrigued by the topic of your conversation all of a sudden, knowing that whatever was happening between you and Woojin is way better than whatever Robert Dahl had to say about politics.

“Well they fought last week, but I thought it was Hyunjin avoiding Y/n, not the other way around?” This time it’s Changbin answering from where he sits next to you, reading through his notes as he sips on his iced americano.

“THEY FOUGHT? HWANG HYUNJIN AND L/N Y/N” Both Chan and Woojin exclaim, catching the attention of some of your school mates.

Your glare quietens the eldest in your group of friends as you try to hurry and stuff down your salad, knowing that the maknae line could arrive at any moment “Not exactly any of your business.”

“But indeed they did, gosh you two are always late to the gossip aren’t you?” Minho’s waving his fork exasperated at your two older friends.

“I wonder if it has something to do with their age,” Changbin mutters to himself but to his misfortune, both Chan and Woojin send a horrifying glare in his direction sending chills down his spine. “I’m joking?”

Swallowing some of the greens, you’re chugging down some water when you hear Han Jisung’s gaudy and loud exclaim of your name.

It takes you a lot of self-control to not spit the water out on Chan’s ridiculously expensive Versace shirt. Before you take your cue to leave the cafeteria knowing that the rest of the 2000 liners and Jeongin would be here soon.

“Gotta go, bye love you all.” You’re collecting your stuff running out of the canteen and towards the direction of the back exit to avoid the other boys.

“Who wants to bet that by the year-end performance, they’re dating.” Minho mischievously sneers, a plan cooking up in his head as he awaits the answers of his friends.

“You mean, you think Y/n finally realized her feelings for Hyunjin?”Chan’s raising his eyebrows at the dancer suspicious at the evil glint in his eyes.

“Well, maybe they just need a little push.”

“What needs a little push? Where’s Y/n, I have her pencil case here with me, she dropped it at the canteen’s entrance.” Jisung’s waving your pencil case in front of the boys with a little dance occupying the spot where you had been.

“Where are the others?” Ignoring Jisung’s question, Woojin asks, pushing up his glasses trying to find where he had stopped reading.

“Hyunjin’s studying in the library and refuses to eat, the other three got held up by their professor for sending in the same essay Seungmin had made for his class.” The boys roll their eyes at the stupidity and laziness of Felix and Jeongin, Chan’s pinching the bridge of his nose to release some tension, saying something along the lines of taking away their gaming devices.

“And you’re not involved? My god hell has indeed frozen over.” Minho’s snickering at Jisung’s deadpanned expression.

“Finally free!” You’re pumping your fist into the air after exiting your last final exam.“Hmm. Yeah right, we still have that year-end performance, here sign up which hours you want to practice.”

It doesn’t take Minho long before he’s shoving the schedules for practice in your face destroying your momentary happiness at finishing your finals. Sometimes, you wonder how you’ve put up with the older male.

To your disappointment you’ve had no interactions with Hyunjin at all, no bumping into one another in the hallway, no meals together, not even messages. It’s as if the taller dancer had placed a chip on you, tracking your every movement in hopes to avoid yours.

Your eyes scan the schedule for the usage of the practicing rooms, your lips part at the offending sight of Hyunjin’s neatly written name for the 1-3 pm schedule noting he had not written his name alongside yours, in spite of your piece being a duet.

“What does this mean.” You’re pointing at the infuriating sight of Hyunjin’s name to show the older dancer.

Looking up from his phone he glances from the paper then to you in boredom. “He wants to practice on his own is that wrong?”

“Well, I would absolutely have no problem with it if he were practicing a solo.” You’re trying to calm your self with deep breaths, but the look on Minho’s face is too infuriating. “WE’RE DANCING A FUCKING DUET. Who am I supposed to practice our lifts with?”

“Y/n, my dear, we have to respect Hyunjin’s human rights-” You’re angrily scribbling your name down and shoving the paper to Minho’s chest whose triumphant grin you miss in your rage.

This is going to be interesting.~ Were the older dancer’s thoughts before he skips away to continue the long list Mr. Park had left for him to do for the preparations of the year-end performance.

“He is beyond infuriating! I can’t believe he would let something as petty as this rip apart our friendship when I get my hand on his dramatic ass!” At this moment you’re pretty sure none of your friends are listening to your rant.

“Ohh. Kinky Y/n never knew you’d be into that.” Minho’s wiggling his eyebrows to tease you at the threats you made.

“haha Minho, very funny.” You sarcastically laugh to amuse the older boy.

“What’s got Y/n so upset this time?” Chan’s looking up from his laptop where he had been editing Woojin’s track for the year-end performance.

“Hyunjin booked solo practices instead of including Y/n in his booking so they’re both practicing individually.” Woojin fills in the younger boy seated next to him not bothering to look up from where he tunes the strings of his guitar.

“Ah, but aren’t you performing a duet.” Chan points the obvious out, making you groan in defeat.

“Exactly my point Chan.” You’re burying your face into your hands, exhausted from today’s practice, wondering why it seems so draining to be running through the dance on your own. Suddenly a thought crosses your mind, making you glare at the older dancer in the room. “You.”

“Me?” Minho smiles innocently from where he’s seated in the love seat of Chan’s dorm.

“Yes, you, last week you were threatening me to fix my quarrel with Hyunjin in order not to ruin your show, and now that you’re in charge of schedules you could’ve easily persuaded Hyunjin into practicing with me.” You’re shoving your finger into Minho’s chest squinting your eyes suspicious at the older dancer.

“As I’ve said, I’m respecting his rights-” Your storming out of Chan’s apartment infuriated with Minho, again.

“Hey, guys I’ve got your boba.-” You pause to receive your drink from Changbin before you’re out the door, noting that you’d send the payment for the drink through his pay pal.

The next day you’re in the practice room, with your playlist on shuffle in the room’s speakers, the soft melody putting you at ease as you warm up your body to run through the dance.

“Uhm, what are you doing here?” Your bright mood is suddenly shattered by a voice you had not heard for the past week. You’re turning around to face the taller dancer who avoids your wary gaze at his sudden appearance.

“It’s my schedule.” You answer Hyunjin swiftly expecting him to leave the dance room, but to your terror, you hear the soft click of the lock in the front door, you see Minho’s sinister grin through the glass-paneled door of the dance studio.

“Byebye~” Is all the older male says before he’s taking off.

Both your lips are parted in shock at Minho’s actions, dumbfounded by the cackle you both hear in his escape.“

Might as well practice right?” Hyunjin’s tugging off his coat as you say this nodding in silent agreement.

You’re hating this already and it hasn’t even started.

“It’s a 4,5.” You huff exhausted at cleaning through the first half of your dance checking on each other’s technical steps, you hadn’t even tried any of the lifts and stunts for the partnering and this is the fifth time you’re both arguing over which counts the steps should follow.

“It’s a 5,6. You bend at four for momentum, do you even listen to Mr. Park when he teaches?” He’s rolling his eyes now at you, feeling the heated gaze you throw at him.

“Let’s try the lift.” He crosses the few spaces in between you both before he’s in front of you. You feel your breath hitch at the proximity, and in spite of how sweaty he is, you can still smell his cologne, a gift Chan had given him at his last birthday, you like how it smells on him, the masculine scent complimented his features. You can feel the heavy thrumming in your chest, reminding you of what you had chosen to ignore and admit.

You hear the taller dancer count a soft one, two, before he tightens his grip on your waist, gaining momentum as he bends to lift your smaller form. And despite contrary belief, during lifts it isn’t only the base that has to the work, the person on top has to tighten her core to stabilize herself on top, making it easier for the person below to lift.

So at Hyunjin’s count, you clench your gut, fixing your form, you reach to caress his cheek as Mr. Park had instructed. All of a sudden you find yourself getting distracted by the bead of sweat that had begun to trace Hyunjin’s features starting from his forehead which had been revealed by the headband he wore preventing his dark locks from covering his vision to the beauty mark just below his left eye. Had he always been this pretty?

In your distraction, your had forgotten to maintain your clenched core, at the moment of instability, Hyunjin panics, fumbling to maintain his grip on you, you feel your stomach dip as you tip forward. You’re shriek as you feel your self free fall, but thank god for Hyunjin’s quick reflexes, he catches you before you could injure yourself.

With your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulder, his arms are tightened below your thighs keeping you secured to his form. When he notices you’re trembling, Hyunjin sighs, lowering himself so he’s seated on the floor with you in his arms.

Softly he removes one of your arms still tightly clenched around the back of his shirt. With your head buried into his shoulder, he hums softly into your ear as he rubs circles into the back of your hand examining your arm for any bruises you may have acquired in your practice.

You feel him turn and raise your arm, curious you ask him, “What are you doing?” With your head still buried into his shoulder, your words come out as a murmur.

“Checking if you’re hurt,” He says, pressing his lips into a bruise he finds.

Suddenly you’re pulling away from his grasp, putting some space between you two, your eyes turn defensive at his words, holding the arm he had kissed to your chest. “You hadn’t been doing that the last few days, you don’t need to, I’m fine”

“Y/n.” He meets your eyes, frowning at your words.

“Hyunjin, you ignored me for a week, a week.“ You emphasized the connotation of your words.

“But you did so too.” He points out with a pout.

“That’s different.” The pitch in your voice raises, defensive.

“How so?” Sighing at your refusal to answer, he continues. “I had wanted to apologize to you during our last contemporary class, but you had run out on me. Then you avoided me until finals rolled around and I had no time to talk to you.”

“But you scheduled practices without me, I had to practice alone here.” You’re avoiding his gaze, embarrassed at your reasoning of why you had avoided him.

“Huh? Minho Hyung had scheduled those for me telling you would sign later on.” Hyunjin tilts his head confused at your statement. “I thought you were still ignoring me, which is why I hadn't questioned you not showing up here.”

That damned snake, Lee Minho both set you up.

“Hyunjinnie I’m so sorry.” You’re burying your head into his shoulder once more, finding comfort in his masculine and woodsy scent. “I hadn’t meant to compare you to Yeji, I’m sorry I should’ve been more careful with my jokes. I hadn’t meant to offend you.” You feel his arms tighten around your waist, making you feel secure in his arms.

“It’s okay, you hadn’t known about that insecurity of mine. I should’ve told you about it instead of being rude and ignoring you, it was just that I was really stressed with the projects due and you had to be on the receiving end of the stress that day. I’m sorry Y/n.” You feel Hyunjin’s fingertips play with the ends of your hair, rubbing the tips between the tips of his index and thumb, which you found oddly soothing.

“Why had you been so upset with me that day?” You’re still seated in his lap, arm around his neck occupying yourself with the longer strands of hair behind his ear, finding it fascinating how gorgeous he looked in the artificial light provided by the room.

“You mean after what you said about Yeji?” He continues feeling you nod against his shoulder. “Well, I was already stressed that day with a paper I had to finish, but after you said that I was really offended. It just brought up a lot of insecurities and you happen to be on the receiving end of that stress that day, which is absolutely no reason to snap at you.”

“You know each day without you was grueling, it made me think a lot about what I feel.”

“What- What do you-?” Removing his arms around his waist, he takes your wrist into his hand, letting the warmth of your palm rest just above where his heart would be.

“See.” He allows you to pull away from your embrace, you could feel the accelerated beat of his heart. Surprised at the rapid pitter-patter, you’re looking up to meet Hyunjin’s steady warm gaze, leaving you to wonder, could you really look at a person that way? As if you’re the center of his universe.

“Jinnie, actually, the reason I left was-”

He fixes you with a determined gaze, “ Y/n, I love you.” And before you know it he’s leaning in to brush a soft kiss unto the tip of your nose, as if asking permission to kiss you. You feel his soft exhale on your cupid brow waiting for a sign of reassurance.

There’s that tension in the air again, stealing your breath away and leaving you flustered. Hypnotized by the intense emotions he hides in ebony hues. Unconsciously, you’re tilting your head up to meet his lips halfway. Your lips move in sync, stealing each other’s breaths away as multiple butterflies tickle your insides. You can taste the hint of the americano he must’ve drunk on his way to the dance studio, it ‘s sweet and intimate. The masculine scent of his cologne overwhelms your senses with your bodies flushed against one another; suffocating your brain, leaving no room for you to think.

The familiar click of the glass-paneled door’s lock has you both up and separating, reminding you and Hyunjin that you were still in the practice room.”Well, well what do we have here?” Minho’s voice echoes along the mirrored walls, making you and Hyunjin turn away from the older dancer at being caught in a provocative position.

You see Felix, following behind him closely, sending you a teasing smile. “Did we finally get them together, Hyung?”

“Come on you two, Chan’s treating us tonight in celebration of this!” Minho’s snickering at your flushed features.

“Yah, Lee Minho-”

“Your amazing, handsome, Oppa that finally got you and Hwang Hyunjin together.” The older male completes for you with a mischievous glint in his onyx hues. He’s smirking and wiggling his eyebrows as he drags the younger dancer out of the room.

“That jerk.” You’re muttering this under your breath as you gather your things to go change in the dressing room, and to your surprise, you feel the taller dancer come up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist as he bends down to nuzzle his head into your shoulder. “Go change, Jiinnie, you’re sweaty.” Moving to face him, you wrinkle your face in disgust pushing a few strands of his away from his forehead.

“Can we stay like this?” You’re smiling at his pouty lips, the plumpness of his lips inviting you in.

“Later after we have dinner and your shower, then I’ll consider it.” You’re pressing a kiss into his chest, where he had guided your palm to feel his racing heartbeat, a small confession that you’re the cause of his rapid heartbeat. “I love you, Hyunjin.” Your whisper’s muffled by his chest but he picks up on that.

“What?”

“Nothing~”

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whitherliliesbloom · 4 years

Note

since they're going around, do you have any pregnancy headcanons for Illya? (you can delete this if it makes you feel uncomfortable, sorry!)

*Interrupts my butler au and nyooms to my inbox real fast*

SO I SEE YOU’VE CHOSEN DEATH. Placed under the cut because this is long. Seriously. I’ve broken the headcanons into sections. Some 5.3 spoilers under the birth section due to mentions of a certain someone.

Realization and breaking the news to friends

Among their friends, Illya and Alphinaud are probably one of the last to get married but ironically, the first to have children. Because they’re the type of couple who has like 20 years of their future planned ahead of them. Communication is extremely important to them, and long before they even got married they’d already discussed having children.

Having a baby was on their ‘to-do’ list right after moving into a new home and also making sure the timing is right that no world ending threat might cause having a baby to become an inconvenience.

So when Illya starts to feel symptoms she honestly isn’t even surprised. She’s more ecstatic than anything. Given her experience with being a medic, she can also roughly tell apart her morning sickness from a common cold or food poisoning. She does go to a chirurgeon to double check though, and her suspicions are confirmed.

She surprises Alphinaud with the news by sewing a tiny onesie version of his trademark suit and gifting it to him in a present box while he’s working.

Alphinaud planned for this but he still can’t help but feel his stomach do flips when he figures out what her gift means and he grabs her into a hug only to quickly pull away “ah- I should be careful from now on, I’m sorry!”

They tell the scions and they celebrate the news together. Krile offers to personally monitor Illya’s condition and Tataru won’t stop crying throughout the party.

Illya travels back to the First and announces the news to her and Alphinaud’s friends of Norvrandt. Chai Nuzz was fortunate enough to stop his wife from crushing Illya in a hug by reminding her that she’s carrying a child. Dulia Chai is quickly reduced to tears when Illya gives her a handwritten letter from Alphinaud asking her to be the baby’s godmother. Ronitt offers to build Illya an automaton that would serve as an automatic baby walker but she refuses his offer. The pixies seem to already know Illya’s pregnant before she even tells them, most probably due to word from Feo Ul, who promptly scolds their darling sapling for keeping the news secret from them until now. Seto is horrified that Illya walked all the way to see him and gave her a flight back to the crystarium. Ryne is overjoyed and asks if she could be the baby’s big sister, to which Illya of course agrees.

Though unfortunately, Krile asks Illya to refrain from traveling back to the first anymore especially during her late stages of pregnancy. They don’t know if the baby will be able to handle the travel well especially when it starts to develop a solid body and soul of its own. Illya explains this to her friends, and they all understand.. though Dulia Chai does request for a painting of the baby from Alphinaud after Illya gives birth.

Before Illya could make the traverse back to visit her parents in their homeland, she is surprised by their visit. Alphinaud had apparently scheduled and prepared their voyage over to Eorzea to visit Illya as a surprise, and Illya can’t hold back her tears of joy. Cocona too, is reduced to tears but tries to hold it back. Lachlan is just jolly and excited to be a granddad and tells Alphinaud and Illya that he’s proud of them.

Cocona and Lachlan stay at their home for a few days and before they return to their farm, Lachlan crafts up a little baby stool with his carpentry skills.

During pregnancy / preparation

Even when pregnant, Illya is a workaholic. She’s absolutely forbidden from fighting but she still actively works her shifts at infirmaries and sneaks out once in a while to attend to injured soldiers. She also does chores, much to Alphinaud’s chagrin. Against his insistence, she still cleans the house and cooks their meals, but she leaves the heavyweight stuff to temporary helpers Alphinaud hires.

When the two aren’t working, they’re actively preparing for the baby’s arrival. Illya by sewing as many onesies, towels and beanies she possibly can.. and Alphinaud by buying an indescribable amount of supplies. They have a whole storage room dedicated to baby nappies, wipes, formula and food. He doesn’t listen to Illya’s scoldings. Surely a ceiling high worth of diaper packs isn’t enough.

Illya’s a lot more picky about her diet and the 9 months she’s pregnant is the longest she goes without eating her signature black blossom peppers. Even she knows that it might be hazardous to her baby. Her weirdest craving consists of a stick of steamed celery dipped in Ishgardian tea. She’ll swear upon her life that it tasted good to her at the time.

They also begin to prepare a room for the baby, Illya pasting glow-in-the-dark stickers of stars and birds on the ceiling and they paint the walls a bright baby blue with clouds together. They line the baby’s bed with layers of the best blankets Illya could afford to sew and plushies of themselves. There are plushies of the scions lining the shelves above the cabinet too. Of course, Illya has a ton of potted flowers in the room.

Of course, they begin baby-proofing the house too and Illya has to ask Alphinaud to get a lock fixed on the door of their armory. They have a personal aetheryte installed in their garden which only they and their trusted companions can attune to. Illya crafts a baby bracelet with a tiny aetheryte charm attached to it that she plans to give to her baby, so that she and Alphinaud could warp to their side at any thing.

Alphinaud and Illya do A LOT of reading to prepare themselves, they’d often pour through hours and hours worth of information in order to educate themselves on what is best for their baby.

Alphinaud loves pressing his ear against Illya’s belly and talking to the baby, and they both read a lot of books out loud. They often fall asleep on the couch together, wrapped in a blanket with Alphinaud’s head against her belly and her hand brushing his hair.

Illya also sings lullabies to her tummy a lot, which inevitably ends with Alphinaud falling asleep on her lap. If she isn’t singing to her tummy, she’s humming while doing something else like knitting or reading.

Illya takes a lot of walks and makes it a point to do light exercises even while pregnant. She was told that it’s good for expecting mothers to do so, for both the baby and to hopefully lessen labour pains. Alphinaud asks Illya to not do it unless she has somebody accompanying her but of course she doesn’t always listen.

The baby’s first kick causes Illya to freeze completely in place and Alphinaud panics when he sees her just standing there. He nearly runs to call the chirurgeon but Illya just stops and giggles as she stops him. “No, no. It’s okay. I just.. felt a little nudge.” Alphinaud drops to a knee and immediately presses his hand against her belly to feel yet another kick. And to say he’s over the moon would be an understatement. He scoops Illya up and kisses her forehead.

Word about the warrior of light’s pregnancy starts to get out and they are sent hampers containing gifts as well as a lot of congratulations fan letters. Some noteworthy gifts are a doman tea set along with a note that explains how it’s good for rejuvenating expecting mothers, tiny scarves and mittens with the Ishgardian emblem sewn on them, kupo nuts, medical supplies and flower bouquets from the elder seedseer herself.

Alisaie often stops by to accompany Illya. ‘Accompany’ is just another word for babysitting, really. Alphinaud expresses worry for Illya’s insistence to keep working even while working and for once, Alisaie completely agrees with her brother. Illya’s not even allowed to hold a broom while Alisaie’s around. They also get several other visits from others.

When Rielle and Sidurgu visit her and Sidurgu is visibly awkward when he sees Illya dressed in maternal clothing and stuck on the couch under a disgruntled elezen woman’s watch. Usually when he meets Illya, she’s in a full suit of armor.

Melkoko drops off lunchboxes on the front door and doesn’t extend her visit much out of fear of bothering Illya’s rest. Illya goes to visit Leveva, who unsurprisingly already foretold of Illya’s pregnancy and congratulates her by giving her a set of supplements she’d prepared before hand. Sylphie and Getty surround Illya and begin to bombard her with questions when she visits them at the conjurer’s guild. Redolent rose is too busy to visit Illya, but has his best set of baby sized berets sent over to her home.

PLOT TWIST

When it came time to ask about the baby’s gender, they were about to go visit the chirurgeon when Krile stops them and notes that... there’s two separate aetheric bodies in Illya’s belly.

Y’shtola and the chirurgeon confirms it - they’re having twins. A boy and a girl.

Alphinaud’s panicking because he thinks the supplies he bought isn’t enough and Illya has to beg him not to order yet another 5 years worth of supplies. They compromise and go for 2. Their storage room still has a good amount of baby supplies even after the twins outgrow needing them.

They begin making preparations to welcome the second baby, with another baby cot, Illya crafts another set of baby clothing and a second aetheryte bracelet and of course, even more vigilant babysitting from Alisaie. They prep the nursery with even more plush toys, though Illya suggests that they save room so she can sew plushies of their babies afterwards too.

Illya’s belly really starts to expand and feels heavy as a result of her carrying twins and it’s difficult even for a workaholic for her to bring herself to walk for long periods. She’s stuck at home during the last two months of her pregnancy as a result. She sometimes vomits and loses her appetite, and at other times she eats a whole lot more than she usually does.

Illya has difficulty sleeping, and suffers from back pain and when the babies stretch, she also feels slight pain in her ribs and it’s led to a lot of late night moments of panic from Alphinaud. She assures him that she’s fine though. Alphinaud gives her a lot of massages and brings her tea and snacks when she gets the munchies.

Alphinaud begins to work a lot harder and does lots of overtime on his work so that he can spend more time at home with Illya after she gives birth.

They have a bit of trouble picking out names because they hadn’t exactly expected to get twins. But they eventually settle for Ipheion and Eulalie Leveilleur, both named after flowers.

IT’S BIRTH TIME

Illya’s water breaks while she’s baking cookies and she drops the tray of them onto the floor and sends Alphinaud running out of his office. He calls the linkpearl to the chirurgeon as calmly as he can and he seems to be cool as ice even when he’s carrying Illya out to the garden but Illya can tell from his arms that he’s shaking. Alphinaud’s read about this about a hundred times already but he still can’t shake how terrified he is now that he’s finally having to confront the process.

Alphinaud refuses to leave Illya’s side for the entirety of her labor and even before that. By Krile and Alisaie’s request, he also calls them to inform them of Illya going into labour and they quickly rush over.

He holds Illya’s hand and tells her that it’s okay and reassures her that she’s doing well. Her labour pains last significantly longer due to having twins. Illya’s pain tolerance is extremely high, but childbirth is on a completely different level and Alphinaud curses the twelve for not being able to do anything to lessen the pain for her.

Alphinaud wipes Illya’s sweat with a napkin and his throat grows parched from how much he talks to her.

The baby boy is the first to be delivered and Alphinaud is given the baby to hold, but he can’t bring himself to celebrate just yet. With his free hand, he continues holding Illya. By this point, they’re both thoroughly exhausted and Alphinaud’s hand is numb from how Illya squeezes him but they press on until she finally delivers the girl.

Illya passes out for a brief moment but regains consciousness to find her two babies wrapped up in Alphinaud’s arms, and she can’t help but to burst into tears. They each carry one, and Alphinaud is speechless. He’s a man of much eloquence but even he can’t describe the sheer joy of what he’s feeling at the moment.

Alisaie also begins crying when she sees the infants for the first time but she’s not crying, she swears!! Krile checks on Illya’s vitals very very thoroughly and insists that Illya rest, which she does. She ends up sleeping for a good 10 hours until she wakes up and asks to hold her baby immediately.

The scions visit the new parents one by one so as to not disturb them too much and all give their blessings to them and their newborn twins. Y’shtola in particular notes that their aetheric bodies are healthy and also surprisingly stronger than most newborns she’s seen. G’raha and Alisaie argue over who each of the babies resemble more. Tataru enters the room carting a trolley full of food and supplements for Illya to eat. No more cooking until she’s fully recovered - and she does mean fully. It’s the first time Illya agrees to finish her archon loaf.

Alphinaud often falls asleep on the chair next to the bed with a baby against his chest.

When they finally get to go home with the babies, they are almost by their babies’ sides 24/7.. not that it would be hard for them too especially with many sleepless nights and baby cries awaiting them.

They celebrate the twins one month anniversary by inviting their friends over and they are given lots of gifts. Alphinaud asks Estinien to be their baby’s godfather. Estinien refuses.

The first time they bring the babies to the Rising Stones, everyone there just surrounds them and clamours to get a chance to hold the babies.

Illya sews plushies of her twins and they now permanently reside next to plushie Illya and plushie Alphinaud

#alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #illya skawi #ipheion #eulalie #we've come so far #headcanons #mine #ask #anon #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS BOY DID THIS TAKE... A LONG TIME TO TYPE OUT BUT IT WAS SO FUN #Anonymous

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suits-of-woe · 4 years

Text

Yet Edmund Was Belov’d

Shakespeare Appreciation Week — Day 4: Villains Day

So...you all knew who this day was going to be about. What better day to show my love for everyone’s favourite bastard? Thanks @harry-leroy for always enabling me. But I figured I’d appreciate more than one Lear villain I stan by posting the full version of an Edmund/Goneril fic I wrote ages ago that sparked my love for this disaster ship.

I wish I’d written something new, but my creativity levels have been negative all quarantine. Writing this last year was basically my gateway drug to thinking about a lot of dynamics that don’t appear here because I hadn’t thought of them yet. So I’m not super pleased with this, but it’s what I’ve got.

This fic is called “WHY did William Shakespeare leave the two loneliest characters in King Lear to die offstage and ALONE and expect me to be okay?” So I remedied that, a bit. Tw for death (including semi-graphic details of death by stabbing) and suicide. Slight AU in how 5.3 plays out, but the outcome is the same.

As the servant rushes off with the bloody knife clutched in his hand, and the other attendants take no time to scatter and disappear from sight, Goneril is the only person left in front of Albany’s tent. Unless she can count Regan, she supposes, but given that Regan is truly gone now, a body without mind, all at her sister’s hand...well, she probably can’t. It’s a thought too overwhelming to sit with. Her mind races. As does her heart, which is still pumping steadily, all the blood in her body strictly confined under the unscathed surface of her skin. She makes an effort to quiet her breathing, just in case any whisper of the sound might reach a lingering witness. Starting now, Goneril is supposed to be dead.

It’s an absurd plan. Nothing resembling a long-term solution, but it was the only thing occurred to her in the frantic moment when she realized her husband had finally grown half a vertebra at precisely the wrong time. It was easy enough to achieve. The servants were eager to help for a small price; Oswald had been her best, of course, but she still had more than her share of loyal followers. She’d had the knife already. All she had really needed was a body to bloody it with, and helpfully, she’d already supplied one of those for herself.

The wound in Regan’s chest is still open and flowing freely, and Goneril dips her hands in it to begin creating the illusion of a matching one on herself. She doesn’t feel guilty for stabbing her, not exactly. The only thing Regan had to look forward to was ten minutes of slowly choking to death; if anything, Goneril did her a favor. It’s just that she can see too much of her sister from this angle, leaning down so close. There’s the tiny scar above her eyebrow she got falling down the stairs as a young girl. The red hair intricately braided, just like their mother taught them. The gold chain around her throat – given to her by her husband – and the love bite near the base of her neck that most certainly was not. It’s impossible to look at Regan and feel nothing.

But it’s not Regan she thinks of as she arranges herself on the ground in a relatively comfortable position, peeking through her lashes at the surrounding tents. She made her choice. She did not choose Regan. She has to live with that choice now, or die with it, and the only reason she’s not dead yet is the tiny shred of hope that maybe she didn’t choose wrong. It’s wishful thinking. Implausible, and only not impossible because Edmund is the only man she’s ever met who might be that clever. They think alike. So alike, that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance he’s exactly as wounded as she is dead.

The approach of footsteps makes her quiet her thoughts. It’s two or three men – three, she sees when she opens her eyes a sliver more – carrying a stretcher. She goes hot and cold all at once. Those black curls – and he’s not moving, but then, neither is she, and when one of the men looks at her for a long moment, he seems convinced. She holds her breath for good measure. The men move out of sight. She can hear them set the stretcher down. They leave. She’s alone with him, finally.

She forces herself to wait a minute. No signs of movement yet, but she’s still equally frozen. Drying blood is surprisingly sticky. Her breaths are too loud. She can’t make out his.

When she loses count around thirty seconds, she gets to her feet. A gust of wind blows her hair in her face. She moves ghostlike, a lump caught in her throat, as she makes her way to his side. His eyes are closed, but she knows from one look the blood is all his. He’s more gasping than breathing. After everything today, there’s little semblance of a world to be swept out from beneath her feet, but she’s still not prepared for the way her stomach drops. He’s Edmund. Pain doesn’t suit him.

“My Gloucester,” she says softly, at a loss for anything else.

“Not yours or Gloucester,” he mutters back, his mouth twisted into a tight grimace, “anymore.”

His eyes come open, violently bright green, and for a moment Goneril is sure he can’t be dying, not when that sharp look in them hasn’t faded a bit.

“I thought you were dead,” he says.

“I know. I thought maybe you...”

“Weren’t? Well. Sorry to disappoint.”

He’s already stopped looking at her. There’s something distant in his expression too, and it must be the most ridiculous time in the world for Goneril to feel lonely of all things, and yet...

“I thought if...I mean, even if the Duke knows, I still have followers.” She can hear her voice rising, growing higher and more frantic. There’s no point telling him this now, but she can’t seem to stop. “And if we’d bided our time then maybe...or we could leave together, get away from—”

“Stop,” Edmund cuts her off. “You’ll—you’ll hate me now.”

“Hate you? For losing a duel?”

Maybe she should, or would, if he were anyone else, or if she had anyone else. But for now, she seems to have used up enough rage that there’s none left for him.

“No. I...I tried—”

The cry comes from the camp before he can finish his sentence. It’s a ragged, unearthly sound, a distillation of anguish so pure it makes Goneril want to climb out of her skin. And that’s before she recognizes his voice, and the howled sound of her sister’s name.

“Tried to save them,” Edmund finishes. He’s laughing, if it can be called that. Laughing until he begins to cough and blood dribbles from the corner of his mouth. If her father’s cries weren’t still echoing toward them Goneril would say it was the most miserable sound she’d heard in her life. “It’s just nature. I should’ve known. Once you set it in motion it doesn’t care.” He coughs again, weaker. “Guess I made you hate me for nothing.”

For a moment, she’s too numb to process any of it. But the wailing hasn’t stopped, and she makes herself go through the facts if only to occupy her mind.

Cordelia is dead. She expected that. They’d discussed it, almost, in that veiled way they discussed anything pertaining to their families. Cordelia is dead, yes, but that’s not all. Regan is dead. Goneril is supposed to be dead, but she isn’t. Edmund will be dead soon, but he isn’t yet, and he’s the reason Cordelia is dead, but also the reason her father is still alive and making those noises. He must be.

“Why?” It’s the only word to make it out of Goneril’s throat. He’s right. She should hate him for this, for making her listen. It’s just that the thought exhausts her.

“I told you,” Edmund says. “I thought you were dead.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“I thought...” He sighs. “I thought maybe I could have changed it. Not now, but before. If I did what...what was supposed to be right. If it felt any different. Better.”

“And?” Goneril’s muscles are locked. He still won’t look at her, and she can’t look anywhere else. “Did it feel different?”

“Maybe. For a moment. Before I knew it didn’t change a thing.”

She doesn’t have a response to that. Neither does he. There’s nothing good to look at, but closing her eyes only leaves Edmund’s struggling breaths and her father’s distant cries.

Cordelia!

If shattered glass could speak, Goneril imagines it would sound something like this. Otherwise, there’s no way she can possibly describe it.

Cordelia, Cordelia!

No one would guess the man had three daughters.

Regan’s blood is stiffening the fabric of Goneril’s dress, and for a second Goneril feels the urge to try and shove it back into her sister’s veins, to seal up the wound, make her undrink the poison, bring back the one person who would understand this unique agony. Regan used to understand. She used to be right there with her, once Cordelia was there and their mother was gone; she knew what it was to watch her sister be loved when she was tolerated at best. They’d had the same hunger in their eyes in those days. Once or twice, they talked about it. They shared the same daydreams, not of wildly handsome fairytale princes but of plainer men, men who might one day care. Mostly, they didn’t talk, but sometimes they’d be silent and just hold each other, because no one else was around to do it for them.

Cordelia!

They must have told him. And her husband certainly knows, even if her father doesn’t, yet she hasn’t heard her name once. Goneril is supposed to be dead, and there’s not a person living who’s grieving for her.

She can’t do this alone. Whatever he’s done, she just can’t.

“What happened?” Her words come out frantic, rushed, as she looks down and sees Edmund’s eyes are closed and she’s struck by a bolt of fear that he’s already gone. But he isn’t. The eyes open, duller, but defiantly alive. “I still don’t understand it. How did they find out? Who told my husband? Who was that man?”

“My brother.” He shakes his head, a half smirk forming on his bloody lips. “Suppose it’s...only fair. The wheel...”

“But how?” She needs to cut him off, or the defeat in his voice might just kill her for real. “How did he find you? How did he even know?”

“He found my father,” Edmund starts. “I don’t know how...he was disguised, he must have—”

“Your father?” It really couldn’t matter less, but Goneril needs to keep him talking. His voice is too weak, all wrong, but it’s still the only bearable thing to listen to. “The Earl, he survived, he’s alive?”

“Was.” He starts to laugh, chokes again. Blood splatters Goneril’s chest and neck. “Until my brother told him who he was. His heart couldn’t take it. Said he...he died of joy.”

He looks at her now, really looks at her.

“Love,” Edmund says. His breath rattles in his chest. “Ha.”

The sounds from the camp have finally gone silent. Goneril is thinking of old men, dead men, dead of joy or despair or love, but not for her, and not for him either. She is thinking of the hunger in Edmund’s painfully vivid eyes. The tenderness she feels toward him is stronger than she thought herself capable of.

But she doesn’t act on it. The rage in the back of her mind is not quite burnt out. Not yet.

“Did you love her?” Goneril asks. She needs to know. And maybe she won’t really, maybe he’ll just lie to her, but she at least needs to hear it.

Regan used to understand. She used to, and Goneril used to think she always would, she would always be there on nights like Goneril’s wedding night, when Regan was the only one to see her cry. But when Regan’s wedding came, she wasn’t crying. She was smiling like a woman with the warm comfortable glow of knowing she was cherished, and suddenly Goneril didn’t know her anymore. It wasn’t fair. She must have known that. She had it all, had everything Goneril had always wanted; it was only her bad luck that Cornwall went first and she had no one crying for her now. Cornwall would have burned down the world for her, Cornwall would have torn whoever killed her to pieces with his bare hands, and Regan must have known it. She had that love, that love that could move mountains and halt planets and break literal hearts, she must have had it and it must have been everything Goneril imagined because the second it was gone she had to do everything she could to get it back. But how dare she? How dare she tear it from Goneril’s own hands, how dare she when she had only lived without it for a few days and Goneril had never even had a taste of it in the first place?

Her face is burning again just to think of it, her heart racing out of control. Edmund’s voice pulls her back to the present.

“I don’t know,” he says, and there’s no trace of the smooth deception she’s come to know so well. “She loved me, and I think I loved that.”

She could ask him the same question about herself. There’s no real reason to think she would get a different answer. But it doesn’t matter anymore. They do think alike, Goneril knows now. They understand each other. Neither of them has ever been worth grieving for.

Edmund gasps and shivers and screws his eyes shut, muttering something Goneril can’t catch, and that’s when she knows what she has to do. There are no more lives for her to try and save, but she can give him this.

“My love.” When she kisses him, it’s with too much passion for a dying man. She tastes blood, but when she pulls away, there’s something like joy mingled with the pain on his face. “My Edmund.”

He doesn’t speak, and she’s not sure if she can anymore. She holds him instead. He’s heavier than she expected, limp and unresisting in her arms, but she clutches him close, feeling his the irregular rise and fall of his chest. He clasps weakly at a handful of the fabric of her dress. She cradles his head, smoothing back the dark curls off his forehead. At least he can’t see the tracks of blood her hands leave on his skin.

When she moves back enough to get a good look at his face, she’s surprised to find silent tears running down his cheeks. She’s equally surprised that she doesn’t mind.

It can’t last. Maybe that’s what makes it halfway bearable, but it can’t, because no matter how tight she holds him it doesn’t stop the dark stain on his abdomen growing wider and wider by the minute. His fingers weaken, twitch, release the hold on her dress. She can feel the labor it takes for him to draw air into his lungs. Every time he breathes she half wishes he wouldn’t.

She doesn’t mean to break the illusion, but it must be agony, and watching it feels crueler than anything else. She makes her voice low, as close to comforting as she can manage, as if she’s only watching a lover drift off to sleep.

“Do you want me to stop it?”

She doesn’t need to gesture to his dagger to know he understands. When he inhales, it sounds like he’s taking in water and not air, but he shakes his head, tears still making tracks in the grime on his face.

“No,” he says, almost inaudible. “Not...not yet. Just—”

He can’t finish. He doesn’t have to.

It might be a nice touch if she could cry for him, Goneril thinks, as she resumes the slow stroking of his hair. It’s only then she realizes her cheeks are already wet.

In one way, it is nothing. He says no more. She says no more. Minutes pass. He stops breathing. Death is that simple, he would say. Only natural.

In another way, it is everything. It is the thing she’s always wanted, the thing he’s always wanted, the culmination of what they’ve both been craving for god knows how long. And then it is gone.

From far away, Goneril can hear shouting and rapid footsteps. The sounds seem imagined at first, intangible next to the weight of Edmund’s cooling body in her arms. But still, they are coming. The time is up, the wheel has turned, and she cannot find enough strength in her legs to try to run.

Regan is gone. Edmund is gone. Her only companion is the dagger at his belt.

She’s already playing the tragic lover for him. She may as well act the last of her part.

#theplaysthething2020 #i have a love hate relationship with this but i wanted to post at least a LITTLE writing this week #there's a lot i would change/add if i were writing it all again #but this is what made me start to ship this unironically so...still fun to share #i'm so dumb why did i think i could write this without starting to ship it for real #i'm a sucker for a deathfic #probably because the fanfic for my otp since age 12 was like 50% deathfics #the POTENTIAL okay #they both want to be loved #king lear #edmund #goneril #otp: yours in the ranks of death #THIS TIME LITERALLY :((((#fic #mine #shakespeare #queue stars keep not their motion in one sphere #this is way too long i'm sorry

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witchfall · 4 years

Text

18. panglossian

5.3 SPOILERS AHEAD.

The Shepherd ponders this supposed best of all worlds.

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

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

.........

...

So this is the world they wrought. The best the Fourteen minus one could come up with.

She wipes ash from her sleeve, only for it to gather on her gloves. She peels them off. She seeks to stuff her fists into her eyes, and hits lacquered wood -- the mask -- and feels such abominable fury that she tears it from her face and crushes it under her boot.

The Noise is silenced. A new, thunderous gong roils at the edge of her hearing, a power deep as the sea that she refuses to acknowledge. She turns away from it. She thinks, instead, of her fury and--

“Lady Azem?”

She turns to face the child who addresses her, immediately puts on a calm smile. No need for them to see this, she thinks, but it is too late; the child’s unveiled gaze lingers on her own shattered mask. She swallows it down, the hatred, the disappointment, and places both of her hands on the child’s tiny, bony shoulders.

“It’s just Thalia now, my dear.”

The child squints at this, uncertain, searching Thalia’s face. “You’re pretty…oh.” A small hand reaches up to her cheek. “You’re crying.”

Her heart twinges. “I’m..thinking about all that has happened.”

Young Xanthe, she recalls. They frown, as if they could try harder to comfort. “They said it will be okay, though. The Convocation.”

Thalia’s mouth wobbles as she tries to keep up her smile. The messaging from Amaurot was thorough. It is for the best, said that panglossian song on the wind, crooning promises as it scattered into light. They had no intention of proving it. That was to be Azem’s job. But Azem, she curses, is no more -- not in this world, torn apart by assumption and fear. Not as part of that circle, who believed only they could bring about the best of all worlds through the best of intentions. Even…

Even Hades believed them.

“They did,” Thalia says, careful. “And it will be alright. But it will take work from us all...and sometimes that work will be difficult.”

“I know,” Xanthe says, far too heavily for one so young. “It’s what my mother would want.”

The Convocation doesn’t know them, these people in the world beyond Amaurot, or the sacrifices they forced on the sphere entire.

Must you leave?

I will not let the name of Azem be tainted by the thoughtlessness of this sacrifice. How many children will grow up without their mothers? Their fathers? Their loved ones? How many children will we lose? We don’t know if we will even be the same after this!

Sometimes loss is all we can abide, if we do not wish to see oblivion. Thalia. Please. Don’t leave us in this. We need our Shepherd.

No. You have decided. They will be the ones who suffer for it.

Maybe he was right. Maybe there is some magic number in this calculation; he always knew better than she how intimately connected they were to the Lifestream, the peculiar dance between life and death and eternity.

But we must imagine happiness in the world we are given, she had told them, not the one we do not have. They are all gone. A great booming echo cries out across the land. The Convocation is not here now. The busy themselves bending to their new god.

“Lady Az---Thalia?”

She places a cool hand upon the child’s head. “We are due back for dinner, I believe.”

Xanthe blinks. A small smile curls upon her open face. “You’ll be staying?”

Thalia smiles, too. Children are important reminders. “If you’d like it.”

---

Venat reaches across space.

Azem, she says.

I don’t use this title any longer.

You are still Azem. You will always be the best of us. That is why I call upon you for help…

No, Thalia says. She places a dish under scalding water and scrubs hard by hand. Whatever you do, you do on your own.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv azem #ffxiv #5.3 spoilers #kathryn writes

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fheythfully · 4 years

Text

Putting all my thoughts on the 5.3 MSQ under the cut. Beware of course of spoilers! Overall I really enjoyed the patch. There were a lot of times where I sounded like an excited dinosaur.

So first things first, the way the patch started with the kids was so cute. I was expecting more with the Ardbert-esque kid, especially when he said he wanted to adventure with friends because he felt like he was missing something... but then they didn’t? I’m not sure what the point of that line of his was then. Ardbert’s soul is inside ours, and also has been shown to have moved on, but I wonder if some fragment of it--the part that is bound to the specific world’s Lifestream--can be reborn? Anyway. A bit bummed we didn’t get more with that train of thought but it was cute nevertheless. Also, apothecary. I was going “IS THIS A HINT?” the moment the kiddo said she wanted to be one as a WoL.

Also, I am totally writing a shortfic of the twins, Satella and Ryne hanging out in the Crystarium library with Moren bringing them books of interest while they sneak in tea and snacks. Ryne falls asleep and is eventually found by Thancred. Alisaie teases him for being a doting father. When everyone leaves, Satella is left cozily snuggled up as the evening turns feeling almost like home at the Arcanist’s Guild.

I really liked the bit where Alisaie’s desire to surpass the WoL and competitive nature is shown, and that some part of it is due to insecurity. I love the character depth and growth SE gives her over the patches. I just about had a heart attack when she started getting woozy with a noise in her head.

Elidibus feeling summoned by the WoL and seeing an Amaurotine in their stead gave me feelings, because it means we are whole enough now to form some sort of connection to the Ascians. Only sundered ones are left now though, so I wonder if that will still stay true.

I did have a heart attack at hearing Thancred collapsed. I was not expecting him to be okay when we got back to see him. Dawn’s Respite scene was very sobering and set me up for something entirely different than the ending we got (thank god).

Alisaie being stubborn and sullen with the Exarch made me wonder if she’s seeing the past with Louisoux in him, and Alphinaud’s comment about how she handled their grandfather leaving all that well all but confirmed it. That’s very sweet.

I made a very loud note as I was playing at the fact that a Rejoining soul must recognize its part on the Source as itself. Not sure if that was just for the Exarch’s case (though there are comments about how we and Ardbert fused very easily too) but I have Filed This Away.

Seeing Shtola collapsed gave me another heart attack but she’s definitely possessed of nine lives. The duty with Elidibus was fantastic, though the lack of voice acting caught me off guard (covid? are duties never voiced?). Fighting the baby Scions made me full of glee and then it got even better from there. Answers playing over the city, and then the HW theme, and then SB--fantastic. I especially paused when it started snowing. I appreciate a lot what Elidibus was doing, which was trying to show to us that the people who seem so ancient and recreated only as puppets had once meant something to him and his own. The fight was a lot of fun. I took a screenshot of berserk-Ardbert for kicks.

Also, the bit where he calls you by your name, and the name is switched from Elidibus to Ardbert. My heart. I have a lot of notes about this for future writing.

Elidibus as Zodiark’s heart and primal weren’t a big surprise as it’s been confirmed before (I think?) BUT he’s basically the primal for the idea of the Warrior of Light and I think that is magnificent. I still don’t have a full grasp on Elidibus as shown in this patch: his memories are fractured, whether by age or Zodiark; he’s driven both by his own ambition and Zodiark’s influence. He’s all over the place and I’m going to have to take better measure of him as I replay everything in NG+.

I have a note that says, “Ella why are you picking up random things off the ground that your enemies have dropped???” but it all turned out even better than okay. I don’t understand how he could have dropped all those Convocation crystals other than as a plot point but whatever. It was a great sequence. “All that remains is to pray. To pray that we will one day meet again, beneath a blue sky.” Made me tear up. The twisting of the Convocation from the gentle, kind Amaurotines to what they are today is brutally heart breaking.

I made a note of how the trees in Amaurot are starting to wither--I am not sure if we’ve always had that? But if not, definitely a small sign of Hades’ magic fading?

Bear with me now but I CAN’T STOP SCREAMING ABOUT AZEM. I of course didn’t get the title right (my 14th is Altima), but I got the duty/job so almost right. My Altima is the Shepherd, though to the souls on the planet living and departing to create and live alongside the Lifestream. The entire scene with Hyth had me shaking in my chair with excitement over how perfectly it described my headcanon 14th--down to her wandering the planet when she wasn’t in the city. Granted it fits with all our WoLs and is specifically made to be so, but I am so excited. Not sure what I’ll do with this when I write, whether I will alter my canon to fit the game or plow on ahead, but we’ll see. I’m just so excited. And the new TITLE fits my OCs to a T. God, thank you, SE. I also love that we are the “sun” and can’t wait for the future connections and theories about the 14th and Azeyma and Azim.

“After all, I cannot say whether I act of my own volition or by the will of my recreator!” Made me laugh-cry.

Scions confirmed that seeing Amaurot awoke a great grief in them, which was then supported by the random Eulmore NPC crying at the sight of it. So, it’s not even reliant on how whole your soul is: everyone who sees it feels something, a soul-genetic memory, maybe? I can’t wait to use this. Also makes me wonder if this is why in the patch the Scions are more wont to encourage you to talk things out with Elidibus, as in SHB they were pretty set against Emet-Selch.

The new dungeon was okay. I need to replay it again and look around more (is there a hint of Hildibrand there??). The Necromancer and Berserker class, though the latter may be Warrior same way Arcanists are called Ink Mage, made me pout a little. I want Necromancer. Also, THIER White Mages get Protect? Pffft.

I didn’t take any notes for the trial but. It was brilliant. The run through Crystal Tower with the Exarch was a wonderful callback (there were so many callbacks, it was great) and then when he told us to go ahead I was like, you better mean it that you don’t plan to play your trump card unless we’re present! The trial itself was breathtaking. When the Amaurotine first showed up I thought it was Azem, then when they snapped their fingers I was like cool we can do that too, and then they did the Emet-Selch wave and I lost it. HOW!? Shtola has a theory that even she admits is far fetched but. Wow. I am wondering which one it may be: Emet-Selch truly somehow having his soul live (we were just in the space where Ascians’ souls go between bodies) and assisted us; or was he called by Azem’s crystal as a memory; or was it a memory entirely? Just. That cameo. I miss you, Emet-Selch. For yours is the seat of the fourteenth broke me also and I’m just all over the place. Elidibus as the Warrior of Light was great.

I don’t understand why he went Baby in the end there. I can’t imagine the Convocation recruited and sacrificed a child. My headcanon is that it’s just meant to represent his childlike devotion and drive to his goals. He wanted to help his brothers and sisters so badly he detached himself from Zodiark. Seeing him sitting there cradling the crystals and talking about how it’s a beautiful day and they’re not there to see it was heartbreaking. The Amaurotines lost so, so much--and there’s no way to bring any of it back. I am glad the Unsundered have finally a chance to rest.

The goodbye scene with Ryne was a little lacking to me. I wanted Thancred to hug her, damn it. At least he told her he’s proud of her. She’s so brave with how she tries not to cry before them. She’s coming into her own, with her own ideals, but also so like Minfilia’s that it made my heart full. I will act as her post moogle to Thancred any time, kupo.

Also the one line she has in Twine about how Gaia is her friend who will be there for her is sweet and I laugh at the idea of Gaia’s reaction.

Okay, so, the ending. Probably the thing I did not expect at all. I expected death. No one died. The animations were beautiful, and Alisaie was such a joy to watch. Just. I don’t have words for it. I was so overcome with happiness at how perfect they all were: Alisaie sinking into her chain in a sulk, the Archons fondling their weapons, Alphinaud with tea and a book. Alisaie jumping off to go find a fight and Alphinaud’s brotherly exasperation. The banter between Urianger and Y’Shtola. My heart is so, so full.

On to the topic of the Exarch, which I did not expect to have this many feelings on: first of all, I expected him to die. We all did. How can one man survive SO many death flags!? When our WoL ran out of the Stones like a wound up mammet I was there with her, heart pounding praying for it to have worked. I am bummed that we didn’t get to experience him actually waking, but that means I can write about it... which I already did, actually. Because: I came out of this with a very unexpected, slowly unfurling Ella/G’raha ship. This was a surprise because ARR G’raha was not someone I even remembered all that well, as I played CT when it came out, but I remember thinking he was a bit too immature for romantic ships; and the Exarch always felt too distant and too much. I was fond of him in SHB but in a passing way, also because I was a little bitter that he put the Scions in such danger in the first place (though I understand all the good that’s come as a result, like uncovering the true Ascian plots). Seeing him at the end there, as a fusion of G’raha and the Exarch, somehow turned my view of him on its head and in that moment, I could easily see Ella and him running off and having proper adventures together. The driving attraction to all my ships is a form of shared experience, or at least understanding of what it’s like to bear a heavy burden on your shoulders. The Exarch was again, too much in his role, and I couldn’t see Ella feeling comfortable being close with him. But now, with this ending? Watching the two of them run off together? Oh, I am excited.

I even wrote four pages of fluff on how he got those bobby pins in his hair and I never write fluff. Please look forward to it being posted soon.

Lastly: Ardbert. If you’ve been around my blog long enough, you’ll know that I’ve been an Ardbert shipper since HW. SHB was so good to me in that regard. Personally, I got closure regarding him in the scene of him offering us his axe and was happy with it. I was overjoyed to see him get closure with Seto now, too. I’m not happy with Elidibus using his body and then tearing it apart as he did, but: it made for great angst and sometimes that’s actually okay with me. The confirmation that he can talk to and through us is interesting and I imagine that he does so rarely, as his soul is finally at rest with his friends--where it truly belongs. He lets us live our life, and a part of him is always with us, now. I imagine him and Ella at one point having a conversation about her burgeoning feelings for G’raha, as in my canon she’s never felt quite a strong enough connection or level of comfort with anyone but Ardbert, and him giving her his “blessing” and encouraging her that it’s okay to chase after the comfort and happiness G’raha can bring her. Especially since all of SHB she was in a very very bad place and this ending we got gives me such a sense of respite, no matter how fleeting.

Speaking of fleeting: Zenos and Asahi/Fandaniel. I am still hoping Zenos gets more interesting because I just can’t bring myself to like him, and seeing him destroy the Garlean empire before we even step foot into it is making me a little pouty. Fandaniel is interesting on a few accounts: he’s a sundered Ascians, so what will that mean? Clearly he’s been unhappy with the Unsundereds’ plans. He’s also pretty crazy for “the bringer of order”, if we follow the FF12 Espers. We didn’t get a lot so I am hesitantly interested. But also, Asahi? I hate that kid...

My last thoughts on this are: the Ascian storyline was meant to come to an end with this patch, but clearly we’re still getting content. So I am hoping that was for the Unsundered Ascians and we’ll find out more about the summon of Hydaelyn and all that. I... have exhausted myself typing all this. Wow.

BUT I AM VERY HAPPY WITH THIS PATCH AND WILL REPLAY THAT HAPPY ENDING MANY TIMES. I can’t wait for the future.

#this is VERY VERY long #5.3 spoilers #sasha rambles

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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 4 years

Note

Hi! I hope I'm not bothering you with this but can I get a BoB Ship? I'm about 5.3 inches short dirty blonde hair (reaches the middle of my neck) and I have grey eyes. I'm usually pretty optimistic, confident, emotional and loyal. I draw and paint a lot and I watch a LOT of movies and tv shows. I always try to see the good things in life and I make bad jokes. I also want to join the military as a nurse. Thanks a lot :)

you never bother me babe *mwah*

𝚒 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑...

joe toye ༊*·˚

you and him wasn’t that unknown to each other; the two of you went to the same high school in hughestown

you -of course- tried to hide your choice; joining to the voluntary 101st airborn parachute-company, while he was bragging about his decision without stopping

but secretly, joe thought that you were always his type.

yes, it’s clear that your hair is short –but it curled so appealingly, so cutely into the shadow of your ear when it rained.

plus, he likes practical things –your hair too, but he want to try to braid it either way

and joe so freakin’ likes that your eyes hold so much emotion. he and his friends can be douchebags sometimes, and when he’s sitting in one class with you (or go down to the library, even to study, or just to see you), his heart nearly melts when he sees that you have a good time with your friends

smiling eyes are his thing, even if he can’t do that, but he’s dying for you omg

your draws and paints are exhibited at some time, but you don’t write your name on it –you don’t want to get teased about your work, even if it’s a good or bad comment

at one time, one of his friend -or just a classmate- got to know that you made those pictures, and goes there to make fun of you.

he just walking to another class, but when he catch that that state is very awkward and emotionally somber to you, he walks there, just like i’m gonna protect her, no matter what, is it a problem fuckface

“what’s your problem with y/n’s art? she worked with it very much, you know. she spent much more time with it than you, generally in everything.”

when the guy walks off, he stands beside you, trying to form competent, clever phrases in his mind, but in the end, his heart punch his mind hard

“nice pic”, he only says, and you mutter a little “thank you”, poking your painty nails and fingers, the curl of your palm and your wrist. “i mean, thank you for... standing by me.”

he tries to stay lazy as usual, but how can he when you’re just so adorable gUsh– “no problem. i don’t like it, when mean faces picks out the quiet ones.” you smile at his words, tucking your hair behind your ear, nodding. “yeah, that’s not cool.”

and then he thinks that “now is the time, go and get her!!”

“so, y/n, would you like to... watch a movie, or something?”

“yeah, joe” you answer, holding his hand now. “i would like to watch.”

after two weeks, the two of you get together, yaay <3

when he joins the military, you join the nursery too. hell, he don’t like the idea, but you don’t like his decision too, soat least the two of you are even-steven

tries to see you not just at his weekend-passes, but at dinner too, sneaking little notes under the table

you are really sad when his leg– GOD I DON’T GONNA WRITE IT, THAT’S KDKEWJKJ JUST GOT ME CRY OKAY

you love each other really much, okay?

kissing your soft, short hair is his everything

and holding your face, that’s joe’s things too, don’t forget T^T

𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙩. 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞'𝙢 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙙 (/□＼*)

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kingdomheartsmarts · 4 years

Note

AU-ish? Okay- let's say reader helps Ienzo and Even with some experiments regarding magic, but reader's magic seems to not enough. Research leads to discovering that magic/mana can be enhanced by pleasure/sex~ Are the scientists willing to help out themselves? Do they enlist the guardsmen while they watch?

it took a lot for me to think about the mythology and flow of this story, it took a while- i’m sorry about that- but i feel like i’ve finally figured out how to organize the story :) this definitely pulled me from my comfort zone and i love it.

according to this mythology as i finish this at 1:48 a.m. is that donald duck as been bangin’.

this is, in short, a collection of drabbles with a continuous plot. so. also… i couldn’t not have a cheesy ending. became only the guardsmen and even because parental undertones for Ienzo.

thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy~

a-n: smutty under the cutty | word count: 5.3 k.

Even/Reader/Aeleus/Dilan | Philomath

“Do you have any idea of how it could be stronger?” Even asked, rubbing his eyes at the time of night, his exhaustion setting in while he finished up the work for the night, the lab dimmed with the lateness of your work.

“Not from what I know, but there must be something, right?” You sighed, walking over to Even and rubbing his shoulders, the tension leaving him while his head rested against your stomach.

“There has to be, there’s no other way to go about it,” He glanced over his notes, “It’s not combative magic, so it’s not strengthened through training.” “Right, it’s healing, but it’s odd,” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his middle, “It’s pretty lame, it doesn’t grow in strength or weaken.”

“I have noticed, once, when the magic strengthened,” Even said after a pause, “After our anniversary.”

“Excuse me?”

“After our anniversary, your magic strengthened,” He repeated, reviewing over the notes again, “If you don’t believe me, you can read Ienzo’s notes on it.”

You read over the papers he handed you, noticing the date and notes review-

“Huh. You’re right,” You finally mumbled.

Even stood as you handed him the papers back, his eyes dark as they rested on you, his hand on your back pulling you to him.

“You know, we could work on that,” Even smirked against your ear, his voice a hushed whisper as his breath against your ear ignited a shiver down your spine.

“Hm, we could, or we could go to sleep,” You teased, his hand continuing down your back to hold your ass, his other hand gently cupping your jaw as he brought your lips to his- your lips pressed against his in a spark as he softly hummed against your lips.

“If it’s important to our research we should make haste, then.”

—

Day I-

Hypothesis- “Healing/medical magic pertaining to the emotional and mental state of one’s own health is strengthened by physical pleasure to the magic wielder”.

Procedures of the test- Shower sex.

“Come here,” Even breathed against your neck, pulling you into the shower as your bare skin met his, his lips crashing into yours- his soft moan vibrating against your lips. The warm water running down your skin as his hands intertwined into your hair, his body pressing against yours as his hardened length pressed against your stomach, a hand leaving your hair to trail down your back-

“Even~” You whimpered as his lips left you, softly pressing into the skin of your jaw, a hand moving from your back to your core, gently rubbing two fingers between your folds.

“Please, Even,” You begged as he quietly hummed, pulling your head to rest against his chest while you moaned, feeling the dull pulse of pleasure rush through you.

“Patience, my love,” Even chuckled at your growing neediness, your eyes meeting his in a plea, “I need to make sure I take proper preparation to conduct this little experiment.”

“Please just fuck me,” You finally snapped, glaring up at him while the warm water continued to cradle your body, his jade eyes meeting yours in a playfulness.

“Hm, as you wish,” He said after a moment, pinning you to the shower wall in a quick motion as the two of you were able to somehow keep your balance, your back facing him as he entered you.

“I need you to cooperate,” Even warned lowly in your ear, his hips pinning yours against the wall as you attempted to gain friction against him, “Or else I’ll have to repeat this experiment.”

“And you say I have a mad scientist fetish,” Your retort was cut off with a moan, his hips slowly moving against yours, his pants heavy against your ear while you whimpered at the sweet friction.

“Yes, but this is an actual experiment, darling,” Even said coolly in your ear, a sharp contrast to his loud pants.

“Of what? Ah-”

“Of your magic strengthening,” His breath fanning against your ear, his chest hot against your back- his length slowly dragging across your velvet walls, his gentleness making your chest swell with love while your core burned with impatience.

“Please, can you move faster?” You quietly asked, his lips attached to your neck, his teeth grazing over your sensitive flesh.

“Since you asked so nicely,” He smirked against your skin, his hips moving against yours with new vigor, his soft pants fanning against your damp skin- the feeling of his eyes boring into you while you felt his length twitch inside of you.

“You feel lovely,” He quietly praised you, his hips slapping against yours as the sound of the shower drowned out your pants, a hand creeping down to gently stroke over your Clit.

Your loud moan echoed through the shower as his hand sped up against your bundle of nerves, gently pinching it as you felt your walls start to convulse- your quick orgasm making you cry out as you clutched onto the shower wall- everything quickly becoming white as Even sped up further, his orgasm filling you as you finally came down from your high.

“Good girl,” Even mumbled in your ear, pulling out of you while pulling you back into his arms, his soft kiss making you melt into his arms as the warm water flowed over you.

“Let’s see if you’re any stronger tomorrow.”

–

“Your magic has strengthened, how could that be? You said you can’t train it,” Ienzo mumbled to himself, his thoughts preoccupied with the data as Even briefly made eye contact with you- his jade eyes burning into yours- all for him to pull his attention back to Ienzo.

“I’m looking into a way she can increase it, but that could have just been a surge,” Even avoided mentioning that he railed into you in the shower, his focus on making sure Ienzo hadn’t found out just yet.

“That’s true,” Ienzo completely ignored the first part of what Even said, mumbling to himself before leaning a little too far to the left, his balance giving out-

“Will you please attempt to have a sleeping schedule?” Even snapped, his concern showing through his voice as he caught Ienzo in his arms, “Go to bed, we’ll take care of this.”

“But-”

“Bed. Now,” Even interrupted, “You can’t work if you’re passing out.”

“You’re one to talk,” Ienzo pursed his lips, a soft laugh escaping him at Even’s glare.

“I know it’s rich coming from him, but you do need to rest Ienzo; we’ll clean up and finish up tonight,” You reassured Ienzo, his nod reassuring as you watched him make his way out of the lab: the only ones remaining being you, Even, and Aeleus.

“Darling, I have a question for you,” Even quietly said, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before darting up to behind you.

“Hm?”

“Would you be alright with these… Experiments to have others help us?” He quietly asked, gently cupping your jaw to look up at him, his thumb stroking over your skin soothingly.

“What do you mean?” You felt someone behind you while your focus was locked on Even.

“Would you consent to others in this castle helping me with this experiment?” “Like, physically?”

“Yes; like someone with me or in front of me, to help me along with it,”

“Why?”

“Have I ever been able to go at it like a dog for days on end?” Even bluntly asked, the composure to his sentences leaving as he grew impatient.

“Well, no,” You finally said after a moment, “But who are you talking about?”

“The other two.”

The other two. Your husband was asking you if you were okay with other men fucking you with Even for the sake of an experiment- the other men being the closest friends of you two, the other apprentices. You had to be insane to agree to that; the idea of your husband watching or adding someone else to the intimacy for the sake of magic possibly increasing left you baffled and intrigued. You had to be insane to agree to that.

Good thing you’re insane.

“I.. I’m okay with that,” You finally said after a moment, Even’s jaded eyes darkening while he gently rubbed your skin again, pulling you up for a kiss.

“Good; can we start now?”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Yes,” You breathed out, Even roughly kissing you while hands rested on your hips as other lips attacked your neck- your surprised moan making Even chuckle against your lips. Leaving your lips, Even kissed along your cheek, gently kissing your ear-

Day II

Procedures of the experiment: rough sex

“Aeleus,” He whispered, your hair moved from your neck as Aeleus kissed down your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin while you wiggle in your seat.

“Be a good girl for him,” He whispered again, pulling off your coat while you heard the rustling of Aeleus taking off his uniform, “I want him to fuck you; you’ll suck my cock- understand?”

“Yes, sir,” You quietly whispered, Aeleus’s bare hands returning to your back as you were stripped by your husband- still facing him as a table separated the two of you as Aeleus moved you off of the seat to stand in front of him, pulling off your bottoms and panties- leaving you bare in front of the man who always stood in the lab with you.

Aeleus was silent as he kissed down your back, feeling you shiver under him as his large, calloused hands worked opposite of his lips, gently running across your stomach before grabbing your breast; gently massaging your breast in hand as he twisted your nipple- Even making his way beside you as you felt him finally touch you again.

“Such a good girl,” Even praised you, pulling up your head by your hair, his lips roughly capturing yours as his hands replaced Aeleus’s on your breast, Aeleus’s hands pulling your legs apart. Even’s tongue forcefully making its way through your mouth while you whimpered, his tongue intertwining with yours as Aeleus’s tongue ran across your bare folds, massaging you experimentally.

“Fuck-” you whimpered, attempting to push your hips back against his face while he held you securely in place, his tongue slowly moving across your core while you felt him squeeze your thighs.

“Such a good girl, letting him eat you out like a little whore,” Even teased in your ear, gently pinching your nipples between his fingers while Aeleus ran his tongue across your clit- your sharp gasp resonating through the room. His soft chuckle vibrating against you while you moaned again, Even’s fingers continuing to torture you while Aeleus’s tounge circled around your clit, lightly flicking it as he massaged the nub with his muscle.

“Please,” You whimpered, Aeleus’s hand running up your back to sooth your whimpers, his large, calloused hands rubbing over your softer skin as the stimulation began to overtake you.

“Please what?” Even quietly asked you, Aeleus’s lips closing around your clit as he suckled on it, shots of pleasure shooting through you- a sharp cry resonating through the room while you leaned forward against the lab table.

“Please- someone take me-” you groaned, a thick finger entering you, your walls fluttering around him as he slowly fingered you- the simplest of touches driving your head to lighten as your head spun with pleasure.

“Not yet,” Even quietly assured you, a hand running down your back to knead your ass in one fo his hands, Aeleus’s hand joining as you groaned again at the multiple touches, “He has to make sure you can take him, yes?”

“I want him~” You whimpered, Aeleus finally breaking with a moan as he shoved another finger into your entrance, his tongue massaging your clit as you felt your walls start to flutter, your thoughts becoming hazed.

“Please- ah!- Aeleus, please,” you whimpered, your begs making him curl his finger in you as you groaned, Even’s eyes locked on yours as he fought off his belt, palming his hardened length in his pants.

“Fine-” Aeleus said lowly, his voice teetering on a growl as he stood up, pulling you against him as Even sat down in a chair horizontal to the table, Aeleus turning you to face him as he pushed you onto your knees.

“Good girl- Come here,” Even commanded you, crawling over to him as you rested on all knees, your hands by his ankles as you felt Aeleus run a hand down your back one more time to relax you.

“Stop me if you feel uncomfortable, understand?” Aeleus said, a command coming from a new voice as your husband gently stroked your hair, leading you to suck on him while Aeleus finally pushed into you- your mouth full as you groaned at the thick intrusion, the tightness of your walls clenching around his length as he stopped to let your body adjust, only to push into you fully.

Your head shallowly bobbing as you distracted yourself from the distinct stretch of your core, Aeleus’s length filling you up completely as his hips rested against yours, his low growl making your walls clench around him. Even’s hand gently tangled through your hair, pulling you up to face him- his face flushed with a blush at the sheer magnitude of the situation, his lips swollen from him biting it to retrain his moans, his hair ever so slightly ruffled with the hasty removal of some of his clothes- leaving him in his white shirt and black pants, his boots long discarded. Watching his jade eyes for a moment, Aeleus softly kissed your neck in a soft comfort, Even’s eyes blown as he brought you in for a kiss, his lips soft but hungry.

“Focus on me for a moment,” Even quietly instructed you as he brought your head back down onto his length, his soft moan filling the room as you shallowly bobbed your head again- Aeleus’s length twitching inside of you at the sound of Even’s moan.

Gently running a hand up your back, Aeleus gripped your shoulder as he slowly ground his hips into yours- your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Even watched, your moan loud but muffled by your husbands cock, only to be amplified by his soft cry of pleasure at the vibrations. “Can I move?” Aeleus quietly asked you, your head nodding as he slowly ground his hips into yours again, his hips rolling shallowly as he became accustomed to the tightness of your walls. A soft hiss came from his mouth as he slowly ground into you, watching your head bob on Even’s length, your focus entirely on your husband while you were pleasured- your hips starting to move on their own to met Aeleus’s thrust.

“Do you want him to go faster?” Even shakily asked, your head quickly nodding as you groaned on his length, a rough thrust coming in response as you moaned, “Was that alright?”

Quickly nodding again, Aeleus’s length filling you up quickly as his hands moved to your hips, your walls massaged with a fullness and a precision as you groaned, his roughness taking over despite the underlying care in every thrust. You groaned around Even’s length, his head falling back as you continued to bob, a soft whine leaving your throat at the loss of attention.

“Even,” Aeleus abruptly said, his voice never phased by the roughness of his motions, “Look at me.”

Moving his head up, Even met Aeleus’s eyes as a hand roughly gripped his hair, Aeleus pulling him to him as he roughly kissed your blonde husband- a low growl leaving his lips as you clenched around his length at the show on top of you.

“Pay attention to your wife,” Aeleus lowly warned, Even’s quick nod making you whimper at his quick submission, his eyes falling back to you- your head shoving all the way down on his length as you deepthroated him- a soft, strangled cry of pleasure leaving his mouth.

“I’m going to cum if-if you keep doing that,” Even panted, Aeleus’s hips never faltering as he sped up his pace, his near to silent pants gracing your ears as he hissed, his hands clutching onto your hips- an orgasm rushing through you as you groaned on Even’s length, his cry mixing with your own muffled one as the two of you orgasmed, Aeleus’s thrust stopping as he felt you cum.

“You haven’t cum,” You hoarsely objected as Even’s length left your mouth, the oxygen rushing back into your head as your body continued to tingle with pleasure.

“Do you want me to continue?” Aeleus asked you, your nod coming quick as Even continued to pant in the chair, his hand petting your hair.

“Are you sure you want to be overstimulated?” Even asked you, your quick yes making him chuckle as Aeleus started his thrust again, his momentum slowly building again as you held onto Even’s legs, your head at the edge of the chair as you groaned.

“You look lovely like this,” Even quietly said, his voice tired and lustful all at once, his focus on your whimpers and moans that freely left your mouth- his hand gently petting your hair. A sharp hiss left Aeleus as your walls started to flutter again, your orgasm seeming to never end at the roughness of his hips-

Aeleus abruptly pulled out as he turned you to face him- his normally stoic but soft eyes turned dark with lust as he stayed on his knees as he moved beside Even, your lips brought to his length as his hand held your head with a feather light touch. Slowly taking him in, Aeleus moaned as Even continued to watch- his length twitching as he watched your head down as much as you could of Aeleus’s cock- your tongue lapping at the underside of his length as you drank up the juices that remained, your soft groan vibrating through his cock.

“Are you really hard again?” Aeleus’s voice cut through your ears as you looked up at him, Even’s length hard and weeping again as he held it in his hand.

“Yes- what are you- fuck-” Even tried to ask Aeleus, moving over in front of him as he gently lead you with him- Aeleus facing you as his left was to Even, his head turned as he took your husband’s length into his mouth. Your soft whimper vibrating through his length as you watched him effortlessly deepthroat him, the head of his length bulging in Aeleus’s throat- your hands playing with your clit as you watched the two men before you. Bobbing your head quickly, you attempted to take the bigger length down your throat- relaxing your throat as you slowly brought yourself down and moaned- Aeleus’s moan loud as he moaned around Even’s length.

“Fuck-” Even abruptly cursed, his length overstimulated as he came in Aeleus’s throat, your fingers moving quickly over your clit as another orgasm crashed through you, your clit puffy and used as Aeleus pulled off of Even’s length.

“Just a little more,” Aeleus quietly said, his hand leading you to relax as the head of his cock teased the top of your throat, suppressing gags as he panted over you- exhaustion setting in as you continued to bob your head- his sharp gasp bringing your attention up to his face- his face completely relaxed in a moment of bliss, his mouth slightly open as he came in your mouth, the hand on your hair still soft as he came.

Pulling off of him, you whimpered as your body ached with exhaustion, your legs giving out from under you as you collapsed- Aeleus pulling you into his arms quickly just before you hit the floor as you closed your eyes- your body giving up on the endurance of the experiment- an odd feeling rushing through you at the softness and gentleness of Aeleus-

No, you’re married to Even.

Don’t think like that.

“Where has your wife been today?” You heard Dilan ask from the hall, his voice always carrying as you heard him walk with him.

“She’s having lady issues today.”

Well, not those, but he’s not wrong.

Quietly grumbling to yourself, you tried to sit up as you hissed at the soreness in your core, a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen on the bedside table holding down a little note.

Picking up the bottle, you took two pills out of it, downing them with the water as you picked up the note-

“I sincerely apologize for your soreness today- A.”

Softly chuckling, you placed it back on the table as you glanced at the clock on the far wall-

11 a.m.

“Even can deal without me for one day,” you quietly said, pulling yourself back under the covers as you fell back asleep.

The sound of shuffling papers pulled you out of your daze of boredom, Ienzo frantically laying out multiple lab reports of Even’s- unfinished in what you two did in the procedures.

“You took two days off and your power still increased? How? How is this happening? Is it hormones?” He mumbled to himself, taking a sip from your glass of water while he frantically looked over the lab reports, “Wait, why is some of this blank?”

“You’re just now asking?” You teased, softly giggling at his playful glare, “He has it written down separately.”

“Can I see it?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s going to be a surprise,” Dilan interjected as he walked in the lab, his uniform unbuttoned as he relaxed for one of the first times today, “It’s something he wants to make sure he gets right.”

“Still, he shouldn’t hide it from me,” Ienzo mumbled, dejected.

“He’s not hiding it, Ienzo, we’re just messing with you; he keeps on forgetting to write it in the correct lab report form. He just has it in a notebook that he keeps misplacing,” You explained, yawning as you checked the clock, “It’s one in the morning Ienzo, why don’t you go to bed? You need to have a semi-okay sleeping schedule.”

“That’s true, I am tired; will you put these up for me?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you; good night you two,” Ienzo said, stifling down a yawn as he walked out of the lab.

“Did Even talk to you?”

“Yep.”

“Where is he?”

“Here,” Even’s sudden voice made you jump, “Sorry; I needed to speak with Master Ansem about something.”

“You’re not adding him to this are you?” Dilan asked, eyeing your water.

“No, of course not.”

“You can have some of my water if you want,” You sweetly offered DIlan, your voice softer than normal as you melted into what was to come in the night.

“Are you going to join us, Even?” you asked, your mentality already glazing over your thoughts as you ran a hand up Dilan’s leg, choking on the water you offered him.

“No, not tonight if that is alright with you,” he quietly said, rubbing over his eyes, “I have a headache.”

“Well if you would actually rest after you’ve been exhausted that wouldn’t happen,” You commented, “Do you need any medicine?”

“No, but I would like to do it in our room, if that is alright,” Even said as you gently palmed Dilan through his pants, his teeth biting his lip in an attempt to cut off a moan.

“That’s perfectly fine with me, are you alright with that?”

“Yes.”

Day V- two days after a rest.

Procedues of test: softer but detatched sex.

“Come here,” you quietly said, pulling DIlan to you as you gently kissed him- his lips soft but firm against yours as his teeth nipped at your lips, pushing him down onto the bed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join, Even?” Dilan asked as you had him pinned to the bed, Even sipping on a cup of tea as he watched the two of you.

“Positive.”

“Com’ere,” You quietly said, Dilan’s hands already pulling off your clothes as you pulled off his open guardsmen jacket, his boots being kicked off as you kneeled on top of him, your knees on either side of his hips.

“Take off your clothes,” you instructed, pulling off of his lap to strip yourself, making sure Even and Dilan were both able to see; letting your lab coat fall off of your shoulders, quickly discarding your shirt, kicking off your pants and socks as Dilan watched- his hands slow and messy as he watched you strip.

“Damn,” Dilan quietly said, looking over your body before finally pulling off his undershirt and pants, leaving him in his underwear and socks.

“You’re allowed to touch,” you teased, his unnatural innocence making you melt the tiniest bit-

Don’t think like that.

Your husband is watching you.

His hands gently circling around your back, fiddling with the hooks for a moment before pulling your bra off, looking at your breast as he moaned softly, gently massaging your breast in his calloused hands.

“You’re gorgeous,” Dilan quietly praised, kissing your collarbone as he played with your nipples, gently twisting and pulling at them while you moaned.

Softly humming, you cupped his jaw as you brought him up for a kiss- gently pressing your lips into his as he moaned, his hands deliberately running down your body as he pulled off your panties.

“What do you want to do tonight?” you gently asked, running your hands onto his shoulders as he blushed from the tips of his ears, his skin burning with the consciousness of Even in the room.

“Um…” Dilan trailed off, his unnatural shyness poking through.

“Hey, are you alright with this?” You softly asked, cupping his face in your hands to look him in the eyes.

“I’m perfect with this,” He whispered, “I just don’t know what I’m allowed to do.”

“Anything,” Even interjected from across the room, sipping on his tea as he pulled out a book.

“Anything?” He breathed out softly, his hands running up your back to intertwine in your hair, pulling you down for a soft kiss as you palmed his boxers- a loud moan escaping him as you did so.

“Anything,” you breathed out against his lips, his amethyst eyes locked on you as you gently stroked his cheek, his fear melting away from his eyes. “I want you as if you were mine,” Dilan quietly said in your ear, his hands running down your sides again, gently cupping your core softly, “but you’re not and never will be- I can’t bring myself to do that.”

Gently picking you up, he turned you to lay back down on the ed, his eyes locked on your movement as he moved you farther back- in direct sight of Even. Why did he say that?

“I want to make sure you’re taken care of,” Dilan quietly said, falling onto his knees from the edge of the bed, his hands pulling you by your thighs closer to him, “I don’t want much tonight.”

“Alright,” you quietly said, Dilan’s behavior odd you noted- the usual seriousness but careful personality completely replaced with a boylike innocence at the idea of having sex with his friends wife for an experiment.

Anyone would be-

Right?”

Pulling you a little further, he gently spread your folds apart with his fingers, gently rubbing his fingers down your folds as he leaned forward- his tongue softly circling your core as he teased your external most parts.

“Please, Dilan, more,” you begged, his soft growl alarming you as he took in his name falling from your lips. “You feel good~,” you encouraged him, his tongue dipping into you as you whimpered softly, your legs spread from clamping around him as your chest swelled with a soft warmth of adoration-

Don’t think like that-

Your husband is in the room.

He loves you and satisfies you.

This is just work.

Dilan’s tongue gently circling around your clit as he softly groaned, his cock twitching in his boxers as he neglected himself, your hands gently gripping his head as you shoved him towards your core. His fingers gently teasing at your entrance as you continued to have pleasure coursing through you, his soft groans against you only making you melt into the bed at his touches.

“Focus on her clit,” Even quietly coached, his focus turned from the book to the two of you, his head resting in his palm- Dilan following his instruction as he swirled his tongue around your clit, his lips teasing to close around it as you moaned, your head falling back against the bed as you rest your feet on his back.

“Good,” Even commented, returning to his book as a soft vibration of a whimper vibrated against your clit.

Was he enjoying praise from Even?

Pushing in a finger, Dilan gently moaned at the feeling of your walls merely tightening around his finger, his lips locked around your clit as he sucked, his tongue flicking over the trapped bud.

“Dilan- Fuck-” you whimpered, pulling him forward as your walls threatened to collapse, “Add another finger, please.”

Quietly groaning at the instruction, Dilan added another finger to your core, your walls tight as your orgasm approached- your body alight with pleasure that tingled across your entire body.

“That’s it, just a little more,” you whimpered, your head thrashing on the bed as his lips continued to stay locked around your clit, a rough suckle making your hips jerk as he pushed you over the edge-

Your walls convulsing around his fingers, your clit puffy and abused as he continued to suckle on it, your vision going white as your legs spasmed around him.

“Fuck, Dilan,” you panted, pushing him away as your face heated, Dilan coming beside you on the bed to pull you into his arms.

“It’s not fair if you aren’t relieved, Dilan,” Even quietly said, placing his book down as he joined the two of you on the bed, gently palming Dilan’s bulge. A loud groan leaving Dilan’s mouth, you pulled him closer to you as you gently kissed his neck, Even’s lips capturing his as he pushed his boxers down far enough to pull out his length, gently stroking the inflamed length.

“There you are- Isn’t that better?” Even softly asked, gently stroking his sensitive length as he moaned, DIlan’s head falling onto Even’s shoulder- his loud, open mouthed moans making your walls clench.

“There we go, this is just enough to get you off, hm?” Even said quietly, his voice at a softness only you were shown, Dilan’s pants and groans growing in volume as Even increased the speed of his hand- an exhausted, strangled moan leaving DIlan’s lips.

“Good boy,” Even quietly praised, pulling his boxers back up as Dilan slumped against Even.

“Let’s keep you in here tonight, you’re exhausted.”

“Darling?” Even quietly asked you, pulling you from your slumber as you were made quickly aware of the other sleeping body among you.

“Yes?”

“Would you be opposed to having others with us?” he asked, his arms wrapped around you as DIlan clung to Even’s middle.

“What do you mean?”

“Aeleus has spoken to me about his developed emotions for the two of us, privately, of course,” Even explained after a pause, “Dilan has wanted it for a while.”

“Are they both okay with each other?” You asked after a moment, snuggling closer to Even.

“I believe so, yes- seeing as they sleep with each other.”

“They what!”

“You are a heavy sleeper.”

Pausing for a moment, you pulled yourself up to gently kiss Even, his lips soft and as passionate as ever.

“Are you okay with this?” You asked. “Yes.” He said, his body pulled closer to DIlan’s sleeping form. “Then get Aeleus in here- he doesn’t deserve to sleep alone.”

“Why do you have three different sized hickeys on your neck?” Ienzo deadpanned, looking under the collar of your lab coat.

“Because you have three dads and I’m your mother, that’s why,” You purse your lips, “Now what were you asking?”

“That’s how you told him?”

#even x reader #aeleus x reader #dilan x reader #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts smut #smut #poly

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peonybane · 5 years

Text

Agape and Pragma: Chapter 9

Pairings: OT7 (BTS) x Reader

Word Count: 5.3 k

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Angst, Sci-Fi, Crack, Smut

Chapter Specific Notes: Fluff, Smut….

Warnings: Some MxM stuff (but like not a whole lot, it’s very fluffy), some light spanking, D/s undertones, threesome, knotting, female receiving oral, very, very light degradation if you can even consider it degradation, I think that’s it.

Summary: Your entire world had be torn asunder by just one lab test. Time heals all wounds, but does it really? What will it take to feel whole again?

Hybrid Types: Peacock Jin, Serval Yoongi, Golden Retriever Hoseok, Gray Wolf Namjoon, Scottish Fold House Cat Jimin, Great Dane Taehyung, and French Lop Eared Rabbit Jungkook

a/n: It’s finally here... the smut! Please enjoy. This is something I’m not used to writing, but please enjoy it. Thank you as always to @ropeseok, my beta reader and to @mintedmango helping me with a small detail and for the emotional support.

<— Previous (Chapter 8)

You were woken up by the sound of your stomach growling. Turning over uncomfortably, you looked over at your alarm clock. It was only 8 pm. Dammit. You slept most of the day away, not that it really mattered. Your eyes were slightly swollen, your throat was raw, and your stomach made a hellish noise, letting you know that it wasn’t about to let you get away with not feeding it without repercussions.

Groaning, you decided that you might as well take the chance of running downstairs and grabbing something to eat, preferably something that went well with the bottle of wine you planned on smuggling out of Yoongi’s wine rack. Rubbing your eyes, you tossed your legs over the side of your bed, standing up on wobbly feet. Groggily, you walked over to your door, opening it. You weren’t ready for the sight before you.

Jimin was sitting on the ground across from your room, his knees up to his chest and his head resting on them, eyes closed as if asleep and his ears twitching slightly on occasion. You were frozen there, not breathing. The sound of you stepping back woke him (but the opening of your door didn’t, somehow), his head shooting up. He stared up at you with the sweetest, saddest eyes you had seen. You held his gave for a moment too long.

The world seemed to stop in that moment as you found yourself drowning in Jimin’s weepy eyes. He whispered your name and you bolted into action. You tried to close the door, but Jimin was faster. He leapt to his feet and stuck his hand between the door and the frame, making him yowl in pain. Instantly you found yourself apologizing, yanking the door back and reaching for his hand. “Jimin! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!—“

You checked his hand brushing over the reddening skin with your fingertips and blowing cool air on it. Jimin cut off your panic but muttering, almost crying, “I’m sorry.”

You paused looking at him again. The air was heavy between the two of you. “Can… can I come in? I want to talk to you and apologize.”

Just as you were about to reply, your stomach made its needs known once more. To your mortification, Jimin laughed. Your face flushed as you yelled, “H-Hey!”

“Luckily I figured you’d be hungry and what better peace offering than,” he leaned behind himself and pulled out a brown paper bag that you somehow missed while he was on the ground, “your favorite mac n’ cheese from Magic Shop.”

You bit your lip, eyeing the food, the smell drifting to your nose and making your stomach rumbling. You took the bag from him. “I accept the peace offering of the world’s best pasta and processed dairy.”

Jimin giggled and followed you into your room. He went to close your door but you said, “No. Keep it open.”

The air between the two of you turned tense again and his tail flickered nervously, he nodded, leaving your door slightly ajar.

You gave him a smile and sat down on your bed, pulling out the familiar purple container from Magic Shop filled with your favorite mac n’ cheese and some plasticware. Digging in, you happily scarfed down the sweet but tangy taste of the cheese and pasta; Jimin cautiously sat down on the bed across from you.

He watched you in silence, gauging your mood as you finished your food with a happy little moan, a sound that sent him tense and slightly bristling. You blushed, looking away from him. “Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should be.”

Placing your food on your nightstand, you took a moment thinking through your choice of words. “But I’ve been the one giving you the go around. With all of you. Because I’m stupid and don’t know my own feelings. I just… I don’t know.”

Jimin reached out and grasped your hands, making you look up at him once again. His jaw was set hard. “You’re not stupid. We’re part of the problem. We’ve been… giving you mixed signals, never telling you just how crazy you make us. We love you. With every fiber of our being.”

“But how can it work, Jimin? I… I don’t want to lose any of you. I don’t want to make any of you feel unloved. I don’t want be the center of all of your attention. I don’t want you guys to force yourself into a relationship just so you can have me. I—“

“You worry too much.”

Both you and Jimin turned towards your bedroom door as Namjoon pushed it open. There was something dark and feral in his gaze as he looked at both you and Jimin. For a brief moment, he turned around and closed your door, locking it. Your throat felt dry as you looked up at Namjoon. He stalked closer, his ears pressed forward. His eyes seemed to grow darker and it made something clench involuntarily inside you.

His voice rumbled as he said, “We love you. And we love each other, just maybe not in ways you think are obvious.”

Namjoon sat down on the bed in front of you and brushed back a strand of your hair. “You care so much for all of us. And you don’t even know how much we wish we could give you more. And this will work. With all eight of us. Let us prove it to you: that we can love each other, just as we love you.”

He shot a look over at Jimin and out of the corner of your eye, Jimin crawled across the bed towards the two of you. Your gaze followed Namjoon as he leaned towards Jimin, who already had a strange glazed look in his eye. Namjoon smiled, his dimples revealing themselves and his tail wagging a little as he reached out to cup the back of Jimin’s neck.

You stopped breathing, too enraptured by the scene before you as Namjoon kissed Jimin. It was gentle as first, Jimin immediately melting into the other’s touch. Namjoon smirked a little at the soft purring sound that rumbled in Jimin before capturing Jimin’s lips once again, sucking on his plush lower lip. Your breath hitched as Jimin let out a small moan.

Slowly, Namjoon pulled from Jimin, who practically chased after his lips. You let out a little gasp as Namjoon stalked towards you. Frozen in place, all you could do was watch him, an inferno building inside of you. He leaned in towards you and rubbed his nose against your own. “Please. Let us show you all the love we have for you. Today, it’s about you. And you alone.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you. It was shocking; your mind went blank. All that mattered was this heat, rolling off him in waves and the warm, oaky smell that permeated you. His lips were soft, and strangely sweet, like he had eaten a candy bar before coming up to your room. You closed your eyes as he threaded his hand through your hair, letting yourself relax into the kiss.

The feeling of Jimin’s lips grazing your neck startled you, making you pull back from Namjoon. A throaty growl left Namjoon’s lips for a moment before he gazed at the hazy look in your eyes. “Kiss her.”

Jimin smiled as Namjoon guided you to his lips. Jimin’s lips were just as plush as Namjoon’s but there was underlying tenderness there that, even as gentle as Namjoon’s kiss was, wasn’t there. You sharply inhaled at the feeling of Jimin’s rough tongue swiping at your bottom lip as Namjoon nuzzled your neck, breathing heavily into your neck. Namjoon huskily whispered in your ear, “Tell us what you want.”

A swell of emotion filled you and you choked on a sudden cry that threatened expose all of your hidden, buried secrets. “Please… just, love me. Take all my doubts and worries away.”

Both of them smiled against your skin. Jimin cupped your jaw, slipping his tongue into your mouth as Namjoon ran his hand up your thigh, making you whimper needily. Namjoon whispered once again in your ear, “Alright, little one. We’ll do just that. Jimin.”

Jimin pulled away at the sound Namjoon’s voice. You chased after his lips, clearly not done in the least bit with the kiss. Namjoon laughed breathily. “It’s alright, little one. We’re just going to get comfy for a moment before spoiling you.”

Jimin was the first to get off the bed, looking at you sultrily, even though he was dressed in an old stained t-shirt and ripped sweats. Namjoon moved as well, sitting himself behind you, kissing your neck as you watched Jimin with curious and rapt attention. Jimin smirked as he began stripping, making a real show of it.

Damn him and his sexy body. You blushed heavily and looked away, feeling a bit self conscious. Namjoon nipped at your earlobe and whispered, “Don’t look away from him, little one.”

There was something in his tone that made you heed his command. You turned your gaze back on Jimin, who was now watching you intently as he ran his hands down his already naked torso (When and where did he throw his shirt off to?) and towards the waistband of his sweats. As he worked the sweats down his thighs, you were oddly intrigued by the way his tail twitched and flicked as it shimmied out of the stretchy hole in his pants for it. Once he was stripped down to his boxers, your eyes grew large in shock; he was already mostly hard.

Worrying your bottom lip, you couldn’t help but look away again, which earned you a smack on your thigh from Namjoon. You looked back at him as he smirked. “I told you not to look away from him.”

“I—I’m sorry….”

Namjoon nipped at your neck again as Jimin joined you two back on the bed, this time, sitting right in front of you as he ran his hands up your calves and under your pajama bottoms. Namjoon whispered in your ear, “Little one, in this situation, you are to address me as ‘Alpha.’ Understand?”

You swallowed, followed by a clench deep in your center. “Y-Yes, Alpha.”

“Good girl.”

Over your shoulder, Namjoon shot Jimin a look, silently communicating something between them. Jimin nodded, almost as if he understood, and in a way, you suppose, he did. Jimin slipped his hands up and over your thighs, trailing them towards the waistband of your pajama bottoms, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. He slipped them off and over your thighs, his lips leaving a gentle trail of kisses down the inside of your thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

As soon as they were off, Jimin started doing the same treatment with your panties, kissing his way down the other leg. It momently distracted you from the touch of Namjoon’s warm palms as they slipped under your t-shirt and over your stomach, coming up to cradle one breast in each hand. You bit your lip, letting your head fall back as Namjoon lovingly squeezed and massaged your breasts all the while Jimin rubbed his way back up your thighs after having removed your panties.

Jimin began kissing you, a hunger you eagerly returned, his hands working your t-shirt off of you as Namjoon continued to play with one breast, his other hand skimmed its way south over your burning skin. A gasp left your lips, a sound that Jimin eagerly swallowed up as Namjoon cupped your mound.

You mewled as Namjoon smirked against your neck, starting to slowly stroke your pussy lips. Jimin giggled, commenting something about ‘cute.’ Though you weren’t really sure as the feeling of finally being touched down there after so long was more than distracting enough. With his rough tongue, Jimin started licking his way down your neck and nipping and sucking hickies into your skin on the way down. You started squirming in their hold, one hand threading through Jimin’s hair, which earned you a soft purr, and the other clawed at Namjoon’s arm that pinned to him as he started adding pressure to the hand cupping your pussy.

“Ji-Jimin… mmmmph… Namjoon!”

A hiss left your lips at the gentle, but quick smack to your pussy as Namjoon growled in your ear. “Alpha, little one. Last warning.”

“Y-Yes… I’m sorry, Alpha.”

Namjoon growled, “Go on, Jiminie. Do what you’ve always wanted to do.”

Before you could question Namjoon’s words, he tangled one hand in your hair, gripping it harshly as he turned your head for a brutal kiss. A part of you wanted to challenge, but you were so love starved that you were left weak, desiring everything that he could give you.

And you took it all.

You barely noticed Jimin’s hands leaving your body as Namjoon subjugated you with just a kiss alone. But in the next moment, Jimin made sure you wouldn’t forget his presence again.

The sensation of a warm, wet, and rough tongue gently lapping at your lower lips left you squealing into the kiss, your body tensing from the sudden feeling. The feeling was so foreign, yet so familiar you weren’t sure how to process it. You felt Jimin giggle against you more than heard him as Namjoon kept you in place, one hand still in your hair, the other pulling one of your thighs open so Jimin could feast on you.

Jimin teased your pussy lips with a finger before spreading them apart, giving your clit gentle kitten licks, causing you to whimper and shudder, pulling at the hair around his little folded ears. Your reactions emboldened him, you could practically feel him smirk against your lower lips, as he gave your even harsher licks.

Namjoon let go out of your hair, instead, concentrating on keeping your thighs open, almost leaving bruises on them. You pulled away from the kiss for some breath, panting as you looked down at Jimin… which you quickly realized you shouldn’t have done.

The sight alone made you clench around nothing. There he laid on his stomach in between your legs, rutting slightly against your bed as he continued to bury his face in your pussy, his tail at attention. It didn’t help when he gazed up at you and Namjoon with those sweet eyes. Namjoon chuckled into your ear. “You like that, little one?”

Before you could respond, Jimin took your poor little clit in his mouth, sucking on it. A strangled moan left your lips and behind you, Namjoon thrusted himself, almost uncontrollably, against your ass, his erection hidden under the fabric of his shorts. But damn. He was sizable.

You leaned your head back against Namjoon’s shoulder, look up at him with large, needy eyes. He stared down at your darkly, his gaze growing darker, a growl rumbling in his chest against your back as Jimin inserted a finger into you, making you letting a small cry.

From between your legs, Jimin pulled away from your throbbing clit, “You like that, princess?”

You nodded, barely trusting your voice. Namjoon harshly nipped at your neck. “Answer him properly, little one.”

“Y-Yes! I like it!”

Jimin smirked, starting to thrust his finger into you, slowly working you open as he returned to licking and suckling at your clit. You continued to mewl and moan as he seemed to have the time of his life eating you out, if his tail was any indication. Behind you, Namjoon continued to hold your legs open, even as you fought his hold, all the while whispering dirty, naughty promises into your ear. “You like that? You like the way little Jimin suckles on your sweet lips? You want more?”

“Y-Yes….” The dark look in his eye gave you one last warning. “Y-Yes, Alpha. More.”

A sound, something akin to a purr, but deeper and yet, somehow off, reverberated through his chest. “Good girl.”

Namjoon let go of one of your thighs, instead now removing your hand from Jimin’s head and threading his own fingers through his hair and tugging on it, hard. Jimin automatically hissed, earning himself a look from Namjoon. You weren’t sure of what look Namjoon was giving him, except that whatever it was, it made Jimin blush and look away submissively. “There, there, kitty. I think you’ve been a good boy up until now. Do you want to go first?”

Jimin’s eyes lit up giving away his excitement before he looked over at you, shyly. He crawled his way up to you and Namjoon sat you up, pushing you forward a little to remove himself from bed. You didn’t follow him, instead you found yourself frozen in place under Jimin’s strangely predatory gaze. He grazed his lips against your own. “May I?”

Barely above a breath you replied, “Please.”

Jimin shot you one his usual sweet smiles before coming in to kiss you. It was a short kiss, granted, but it just felt so right. Like this was where you were meant to be. He shifted you towards the center of the bed, laying you down on your plush duvet. Jimin shyly smiled at you as he took one of your pillows and looked at you pleadingly. You tilted your head, not quite following until an almost naked Namjoon joined you two on your bed again (he was stripped down similarly to Jimin; just his boxers) and lifted your hips, letting Jimin slip the pillow underneath your hips. With you pelvis raised and the both of them looking at you, you felt shy, being all exposed.

You tried to cross you legs, to hide from their burning gaze, but they would have none of that. Namjoon grabbed you thigh as he laid next to you, stroking it as he looked at you lovingly. He kissed you gently, whispering against your lips, “You’re absolutely beautiful. Don’t hide.”

“He’s right. Absolutely divine. And all ours.”

You looked over at Jimin, who had completely stripped off his boxer. Your eyes bugged out at the sight. He was on the smaller side: short, average girth, but veiny and delightfully curved. He was perfectly smooth down there, making the pinkening skin look even prettier, especially as his stocky cock head started leaking pre-cum. Jimin smirked as you bit you lip, but the sight of him, for some reason, all exposed, helped you relax. Namjoon got back on his knees leaning in towards Jimin. “Let me have a taste of our little one.”

Jimin’s gaze turned docile again as Namjoon cupped his neck, going in for another kiss, this one far more aggressive then before as Namjoon forces Jimin’s lip apart, his tongue reaching in to taste the remnants of you on Jimin’s tongue. You watched in awe as Jimin moaned into the kiss and his cock jumped against his stomach. It seemed like you weren’t the only one to appreciate it as Namjoon reached down as grasped Jimin’s cock, stroking it. Jimin pulled away from the kiss and gasped, his head lulling back. Namjoon whispered something into his ear that you didn’t hear, but from the way Jimin blushed, it was certainly something naughty.

Namjoon let go of Jimin’s cock and Jimin took a moment to calm down. Then they turned their gaze on you. Namjoon tilted his head, smirking. “Looks like someone enjoyed the little show.”

You blushed at his words, looking away. “But now it’s her turn to play.”

Jimin stalked towards you; you felt like prey under both of their predatory gazes. He gingerly took your legs and parted them, coming close enough to let his cock nestle against your clit, making you tense, but pleasantly so. He got down on his elbows, caging in your face as he gazed lovingly into your eyes. “You ready?”

You nodded. “Mmmhmm. But what about—“

Namjoon laid down next to you two, interrupting you. “I’ll go after Jimin. If you can handle it.”

You blushed at the look he gave you, this in turn made Jimin giggle before he gave you one last sweet kiss. Reaching between your bodies, Jimin grasped his cock, pushing himself into you. You gasped at the entrance. God. It’s been for fucking ever. Jimin groaned above you, teeth reddening that plush bottom lip of his. Once he was seated inside of you, you throbbed around him, getting used to the stretch after so long. He certainly wasn’t going to be the biggest of your potential lovers, if the hard on Namjoon was sporting was anything to go by. But he was certainly pleasantly shaped, the head of his cock curving right into your g-spot.

After a moment, you kissed up his neck and reached up to rub the curled cartilage of his ear up so you could whisper into his ear, “Please, Jimin. Move…. Please, make me cum.”

His other ear twitched as his Adam’s apple bobbed. His gaze turned dark. Namjoon laughed, “Little girl, I think you’ve awoken the tiger inside him.”

As if that really was a challenge, Jimin growled, pulling himself up so that he rested on his knees and the balls of his feet, his arms hooking under your knees. He pulled back until the tip before harshly thrusting back in, hitting your g-spot spot on. You cried out at the intensity, tears already threatening to escape. It’s been too long….

Namjoon leaned over you and started kissing you as your hand shot out, grasping his hand as a way to ground yourself. As if the sight of Namjoon touching you was some sort of trigger, Jimin practically turned feral, thrusting into you with a purpose. And that single purpose was to make you cum. You would cum because of his cock now, or not at all.

To your embarrassment, you couldn’t help the moans and half screams that left your mouth as all you could do was lay there and take everything Jimin was giving you as he battered away at your g-spot, his pelvis striking your clit simultaneously. Namjoon growled happily, touching you all over as he licked, nipped, and sucked on your breasts. The erotic words fall from their lips didn’t help the inferno that was threatening to explode from within you. Namjoon would whisper naughty things like, “Little one, do you hear that? The sound of him fucking you raw?”

All the while Jimin would growl, “You’re mine, princess. Don’t fucking forget that!”

It was all too much. You barely had the chance to warn them before you were cumming. Hard. One hand in your hair, pulling while the other was clawing at Namjoon’s arm harshly, your legs wrapped around Jimin’s middle, taking him prisoner as your walls spasmed and a wave of euphoria washed over you. Your orgasm eventually dissipated with a strangled whine, which seemed to have triggered Jimin’s own orgasm as he let out a yowl, his hips twitch against yours as he filled you with ropes of his cum.

Namjoon smiled at you, his dimples poking through as he sat up. He first kissed you gently, wiping the sweat from your face before switching over to Jimin, kissing him just the same as your legs finally released their death grip on him. Jimin hissed as he pulled away from you, you whimpered in return at the sensation.

Jimin practically dive bombed for the spot next to you, opposite of Namjoon. He gave you a sweet, crescent eyed smile before cupping your cheek and kissing you deeply. Namjoon nuzzled into the both of you making you giggle as you pulled away from the kiss. “How are you feeling, little one? Want a break?”

You couldn’t help but glance down, noticing that Namjoon was still sporting quite the hard on. “What about you?”

“I told you before, today is about you and your pleasure. I’ll wait if you’re done for the da—“

“No! I want you, Namjoon. I love you! I love the both of you!”

Something changed in his gaze. Those sweet dimples were gone and the gaze of an Alpha appeared. “Is that so?”

He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Then get on your hands and knees so I can breed you like my bitch.”

You couldn’t help the clench you pussy gave, causing some of Jimin’s cum to leak out of you. His gaze grew even darker as he took a deep inhale. He all but ripped his boxers off himself. You didn’t get as good of a look as you’d have like of his cock (which all you could tell from a single glance was big and was surrounded by a trimmed smattering of hair) before he roughly grabbed you and flipped you over. He smacked your ass, leaving you a little dazed. “I said,” another smack, making you yelp. “On your hands and knees.”

You scrambled to your hands and knees, even going as far as to raise your ass even higher for him. Namjoon made a rumbling noise of satisfaction as Jimin moved to sit in front of you, his boxers back on (When did he do that?). Namjoon started rubbing his hands down your ass to your pussy as Jimin ran his hand through your hair, kissing you.

That kiss was all that was needed to help you relax enough (and to distract you) for Namjoon to start sliding into you. You pulled away from the kiss, letting out a high pitched whine. Namjoon was big. Long with a medium girth. Now, you realized why, despite the fact that Namjoon was the Alpha of your ‘pack’, he let Jimin go first: it would have been absolutely impossible for you to take him after so many years.

You found yourself tearing up a little. Jimin kissed away your tears. Namjoon seated himself in you all the way, you found yourself breathing hard as he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah… just need a moment. Dammit, Namjoon. Just how big are you?”

Jimin giggled. “Oh, don’t say that. He’s not even the biggest of us.”

“What?!”

Jimin laughed some more. From behind you, Namjoon chuckled himself. “Now, now, Jimin. No need to tease her. After all, I think this is all she can handle for right now. I hope my little one can handle it when I knot her.”

You swallowed at those words. Knotting? He was going to knot you? You pussy betrayed you and clenched, making Namjoon groan. Jimin giggled as he stroked your cheek. “Looks like princess likes the idea of you using her pussy like that.”

The dirty look you shot Jimin was short lived as Namjoon gave an experimental thrust. Instead of a snarky comeback, a high pitched whine left your lips. Jimin smirked at the fucked out look already on your face as Namjoon began building a steady pace. Namjoon was surprisingly quiet except for the absolute filth leave his mouth (“Such a good girl for me.” And, “I can’t wait to paint your pussy in my cum.”). Though, to be fair, you were more than compensating by the moans and whines leaving your mouth as his hips repeatedly smacked your ass.

Jimin continued to kiss you as Namjoon battered away at your pussy and digging his nails into your ass. It was all too much. Eventually, your arms gave out with a cry, but luckily, Jimin was there to catch you. He whispered filth in your ear almost as bad as what Namjoon was saying as you clung to him for dear life.

You were getting close again. It was all too much but not enough. You were too distracted by the cadence of Namjoon’s hips smacking your ass to hear the scuffle that was happening right outside your door. But Namjoon knew. And boy did he like the idea of the others listening in as he fucked you hard.

Suddenly you found yourself being pinned down against Jimin as Namjoon changed the angle of his thrusts, practically making you scream. Namjoon nipped at your earlobe before asking, “I bet you want all of us don’t you? You want us just as much as we want you. You want all seven of us to use you. To love and to fuck you.”

You couldn’t help the clench your pussy gave at his words, drawing out a grunt from him. Jimin giggled. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want us to go find them and invite them in, don’t you?”

Again, your pussy clenched and Namjoon gave your ass a smack in warning. Namjoon continued, “Unfortunately today’s not the day. Your pussy is far too excited and abused to take any more than this? Isn’t it?”

You whimpered, words barely beyond your comprehension as your orgasm was just within reach. Namjoon threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back so he can whisper against your lips, “Soon. Very soon. I promise.”

Those words were all you needed to throw you over the precipice. You cried out as your orgasm wrecked through your body, just as strongly as the last. As you winded down from your orgasm, you were barely coherent of Namjoon letting out a string of curses before stilling above you. You then felt the most curious feeling. It was like… he was getting bigger at the base.

Then you remembered his words from before: he was knotting you. For some reason, you thought it was be bigger, but his knot didn’t get too much bigger. It hurt a little as it pressed against your sensitive g-spot. But it was far from unbearable. Then you felt him flood you with his cum. It was uncomfortable but at the same time it felt… strangely good.

Namjoon collapsed on top of you, putting both your weight and his on poor Jimin. “Yah! Get off me!”

You and Namjoon laughed as he wrapped his arms around you, rolling you both off of poor Jimin and onto your sides. You were still firmly pressed against Namjoon as you experimentally tried to wiggle around. He smacked your thigh before lovingly kissing your neck. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, little one. I might just fuck you again. And I won’t be as nice this time.”

The blush on your cheeks was instantaneous causing Jimin to laugh. You pouted in response which just made both of them laugh. Once he had calmed down, Jimin cuddled up to you, laying on his side, facing the both of you. First, he leaned over you and kissed Namjoon, the sound of their lips right by your ear making you blush. Then once they pulled away from each other, Jimin kissed you first, licking at your bottom lip. In retaliation, you nipped at his tongue, earning you a smack on the hip from Jimin.

You pulled away from the kiss and pouted, making Namjoon giggle behind you. As Jimin laid back down, with a smile on his face, Namjoon cupped your face, turning you slightly towards him to kiss you this time. This a sweet and gentle kiss, leaving you wanting more. When he pulled back, he stroked your cheek before whispering, “We love you.”

You choked up a little. “I love you, too. All of you. I love you and Jimin. I love Jin and Hobi. I love Jungkook, the little shit,. I love Tae and Yoongi.”

Something inside you finally broke open. It was the crystal cage that you kept your feelings in: you could look, but not touch. The little bursts of emotion that forced their way through the cracks of your shattering crystal cage were nothing compared to typhoon that engulfed you.

You laid there, crying out your feelings, your relief, your revelation. No words were needed as Jimin and Namjoon continued to lay there with you, holding you, kissing you, pouring their love into you, as you cried. This was love. This physical act, was the sledge hammer than you needed to break that crystal cage on your heart. It was finally free. And you were never going back.

As always, reviews, comments, asks, and tags are always loved! ~Peony

Also, please note that I do NOT do tagging lists. Please see my FAQ for why.

Next (Chapter 10) —>

Agape and Pragma Masterlist

Masterlist

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raelly-writing · 4 years

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Prompt 19: Where the heart lies - FFXIV Write 2020

Ahah, uh, yeah, this idea made me sort of feel the pain of having a Thancred/WoL ship that’s ‘can’t spit it out and stubbornly pines for each other until late Shadowbringers’, so I wanted to try and keep the time sort of vague like it’s been a while since then. But then what felt like the natural way to end it tied it pretty hard to 5.3. I dunno, I liked the mood and flow so maybe I’ll revisit when I have a few more patches’ distance.

Hints towards NSFW themes, but nothing explicitly stated.

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The sound of his shower was a lulling drone in the background as Thancred dozed, content and relaxed after eagerly welcoming her back from her latest adventures. Sweat was cooling on his skin, the covers merely haphazardly gathered around his waist, though he did not feel all too bothered by the slight nip of the evening air.

They were precious to him, these private reunions of theirs. Especially after they had been apart for a long time - the reassurance of seeing each other alive, even if there were always that twinge of guilt when he saw the traces of one injury or another on her skin, accompanied by the wish that he could have been with her. It was a look he often saw reflected in her own expression when it was his skin that had been marked and bruised by a foe.

For all of their agreement that their duties came first, it never made parting any easier.

It took him a moment to realise that the sound of water had ceased and that a comfortable silence had instead settled over the room. Absently, he listened for the sound of her bare feet against the stone floor, his cue to stir from his comfortable spot and take his own turn in the shower.

Instead, the silence stretched on. Stirring a bit more from his doze, he felt a tickle at the back of his neck, a familiar, well-honed instinct telling him he was being watched.

Thancred cracked his eyes open and found Viana leaning against the doorframe to his washroom, her arms loosely crossed and a small smile on her lips as she watched him. The thoughtful look in her eyes was tinged with affection, so soft and unguarded despite all the hardship she’d been through. His breath caught, and for a few brief seconds he was able to soak in the sight of her, before she realised that he’d noticed her.

A flicker of embarrassment instantly passed over her features as she straightened back up while clearing her throat. “Sorry, my thoughts wandered,” she said softly, as if not wanting to speak too loudly into the silence of the room.

He gave her a charming smile. “It’s alright, I know these handsome features can be cause for distraction.”

As expected, Viana laughed and gave him a familiar, mock flat look that he, despite all these many years, still remembered so well from the time before the Monetarists’ coup in Ul’dah, when their suggestive banter had been a mere facet of the friendship they’d struck up. “It truly is a mystery how you do not leave a trail of distracted, injured people in your wake.”

She shifted her weight to one foot, and his gaze momentarily dropped to the hemline of the shirt she wore - his, he realised with a familiar sense of delight - that barely reached the top of her thighs. “I know,” he drawled as he looked up at her once more. “It’s a testament to people’s strength of will.”

Viana snorted, a fond smile on her lips as she crossed the short distance back to his bed. Thancred caught one of her hands in his, a small tug and light touch to her hip enough to guide her to straddle him.

“Jokes aside,” he hummed before brushing a kiss to her knuckles, “what were you thinking about? Not the next errand you need to run, I hope?”

With a small shake of her head, she caressed his cheek. “I just thought about… this. How we got here.”

Thancred slowly slid his fingers down over her arm, eyes still on her. “Quite the long and winded road we took,” he replied as he gently took hold of her other hand too and laced their fingers together.

She made a quiet sound of agreement, then tilted her head to the side. “I don’t think I ever have asked you… when did you feel like things changed between us? When did you realise you felt something for me?”

The questions took him by surprise. Raising an eyebrow, he found no ready answer on the tip of his tongue. He would never deny that he had found her attractive from the moment she’d stepped into the Solar in the Waking Sands. Even as far back as then, he would gladly have taken her to his bed and helped her unwind after they had her chase primals all over the realm - something undefined, without strings or expectations, like all his physical relationships had been back then. But when had the physical attraction shifted into something more?

Viana remained quiet, patiently waiting for him to sort through his thoughts while one of her thumbs slowly rubbed over his.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and pressed another kiss to her fingers. “I’m not sure,” he finally responded. “You were there with me after Minfilia…” He paused, the words catching in his throat even after all these years.

After she had given up her life for Hydaelyn, and it’d felt like his heart had been shattered. And then she had departed their world entirely to save another, taking with her the piece of his heart that he’d left with her so long ago, when she’d been just a girl bearing another name, crying over her father’s unmoving body. The old, dull sorrow made his chest tighten.

It was hard to think back on those years after they’d found him in Dravania, how dark his mindset had been through the war until he had, under a foreign Light filled sky, finally been able to let go of his old guilt and grief, and move on for the sake of another young girl’s future. To this day, he was not sure when one of those jagged little shards of his heart had found its way into Viana’s hand and been safely tucked away beneath her breastbone.

He felt her weight shift atop him and then the warm press of her lips against his, the damp fringes of her hair a tickle against his cheek and forehead, while her hands squeezed his in reassurance.

“Forgive me, I didn't mean to dig up painful memories,” Viana said softly.

Thancred opened his eyes to see the same sense of loss and pain in hers. Smiling faintly, he let go of her hands to cup her jaw. “It’s alright,” he replied while brushing his thumbs over her cheeks. Her expression softened as she rested her hands on his wrists, still watching him.

“I’m not sure when I began to love you,” he continued. “But I think I realised it when you first returned from Othard, and I felt it in my bones how much I had missed you.” He paused, eyes roaming over her face. “It felt like a piece of my heart had returned to me at last.”

A bashful smile spread on her lips as she laughed under her breath, her cheeks suddenly stained with a blush. “How poetic.”

“Can’t let those bardic skills rust completely,” he hummed with a sly grin. “How else am I supposed to make you laugh and blush so prettily?”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Perhaps.” He pulled her down again, slipping an arm around her waist as they met in a slow, lingering kiss that made his body feel warm and fuzzy. Despite that it melted into a series of kisses, it seemed far too soon that they finally parted. “How about you?”

Viana peered at him from beneath her lashes as she rested her weight on her elbows. “Remember when you packed my gunblade and gear, and sent it to me before I left for Othard?”

Thancred nodded, giving her a curious look. “Couldn’t have been that, surely.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, but you packed one of my books as well, and slipped a note into it.” His brow furrowed and it took him a moment, but he could vaguely recall doing such a thing. It’d seemed like such a small, random thing to him. Her expression softened, as if she knew what he was thinking. “I didn’t see it until I unpacked it all on the ship. It was a short note, just you wishing me to stay safe. But that’s when I realised what I felt for you.”

He was unsure what to say in response, hadn’t thought that it’d been a simple gesture that had been the cause. Grabbing her, he rolled them both over, smothering her surprised laugh with a firm kiss, as if it would somehow make up for what he felt had been lost time. His hand wandered over her, pushing up the shirt she wore to feel her skin beneath his palm and tracing the waistline of her smalls.

“Thancred, I just showered,” she laughed against his lips, even as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Guess you can shower again with me then,” he replied, his voice low and raspy. “Later.”

Though time and space may separate them, part of his heart would forever remain across the Rift, below a crystal wall in a desert region in another world where Minfilia, who he’d loved so dearly like the younger sibling he had never known, had saved one world from entire annihilation and spoken her final words to him. Another with Ryne, who he had watched grow and come into her own, stirring a paternal pride and love in him, as she walked under the night sky they had fought so hard for side-by-side, striving as she did to heal that world’s wounds. Other pieces lay tucked into the pockets and hands of the rest of his found family, smaller, but no less potent.

Another, no longer sharp and jagged with sorrow and despair as when he first may have inadvertently given her it, lay nestled next to the heart of the woman in his arms.

Just like he knew, he carried a piece of hers with him.

A home, with each other.

#ffxivwrite2020 #thancred waters #thancred x wol #my writing #one day I'll learn to write kisses #today is not that day

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ghost-cheeks · 4 years

Text

Y’sangho and the G’raha, then and now.

I always imagined the two of them being the best of Frenemies; constant petty bickering, snipes, and general cursing at one another. Not because they hated one another, but because they are both opinionated as fuck and both want to do a good job, and my way is best goddammit.

They met when Y’sangho was an adventurer-for-hire with the Sons of Saint Coinach, just for guard duty around the base camp while the WoL and the Sons studied the Tower. She and G’raha worked together a lot and definitely respected one another, but they were both young and dumb, so they argued quite a bit. She was ripping after he disappeared without a trace.

After finding out the Exarch and G’raha are the same person (she got sucked to the First to fight Hades. What a reunion that was jfc), she almost slapped him into next Tuesday, then swore at him, and told him to never do that again.

They’ve grown up a lot, and thus their conversations are more civil, but every once and while they’ll get into a good-natured shouting match while everyone looks on, wondering why the hell they’re even friends.

I don’t know what 5.3 has in store for these two dipshits, but I’m sure I’m going to cry about it.

#ff14 spoilers #but not for 5.3 #Y'Sangho #my screens #pls don't spoil 5.3 for me #I've already had a little spoiler already #but it was stuff I kind of knew was going to happen so I'm not upset #chuffed it's going to happen but a little irritated that I got spoiled #character lore

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jay-and-dean · 5 years

Text

Captive Chapter 7 : Little Bean (The end)

gifs not mine

_Dean x Reader_

Summary :

Dean Winchester is an enemy.

Every man of letters and hunters are enemies.

During the Great Purge in Europe, when every european Men of Letters allied to eradicate monsters once and for all, using hunters as their cold-blooded hounds, long before the BMOL took an interest in USA, they killed my mother, and made me go through hell. I killed so many of them I lost count, and lived a life on the run. Until one day I heard about American Men of Letters extinction, and decided to try and find peace there.

That was without counting on the exile of some BMOL, and the existence of the two best hunters of the world.The fisrt time I saw Sam Winchester, I almost killed him, and Dean has me now…

He is going to kill me, right ?

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***CAPTIVE MASTERLIST***

***MASTERLIST***

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Serie warnings : Violence and captivity, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Chapter Warnings : Angst, Flangst fluff, smut.

Words : 5.3 k

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Reader's Pov

I enter the shower and sigh. Sam is right, I have to talk to Dean, today.

I look down at my body and see my secret is showing a little now, when I'm naked. A little, my lower belly just a bit more swollen than it usually is. I take Dean's soap and wash with it, it's the only scent that doesn't make me nauseous lately, even Sam's aftershave is sickening in the morning.

I'm terrified.

I know Dean won't kick me out or whatever, he loves me, I trust him. But I will break his happiness... He doesn't want this, he doesn't need this. He has always been responsible for everything, for Sam, for the world. He doesn't want that burden, and I don’t want this for him. I want to give him peace, I want to take care of him. I want to be his angel.

I quickly clean and get dressed, we have to take the road in half an hour, people are being found literally half eaten in Arkansas.

When I get out of the bathroom, I can't find Dean, he already took our bags.

"Sam, have you seen Dean ?"

"He's waiting in the car" Sam shrugs, putting smoothies in the cooler.

Waiting in the car ?

I enter the garage and my love is indeed behind the wheel, in his beloved car. I open the driver's door and bend on him.

"In a rush baby ?" I smile, kissing the corner of his mouth.

He just nods.

"You okay ?" I frown when he doesn't return the kiss like he usually does.

"Yeah. Are you ready ?"

I nod sadly and close his door. Then I seat on the backseat behind him and try to catch his eyes, but he doesn’t look at me.

The drive is silent, no, actually it's not, Dean put some loud music, but he doesn't talk, not a word. And it makes me feel like he was unapproachable, like he was not mine at all. And just like that, only a few hours after waking up in his arms, I miss him like when he left me alone in the bunker. I could cry.

Sam sometimes talks about the case but that's it. As the time passes, I start to think, this not just me being addicted to Dean’s smile, something's wrong with him but I can't read his eyes this time, is it sadness or anger ? How am I supposed to talk to him about my pregnancy if he's already mad at me. And I don't even know why...

It's dark, Dean didn't stop at all, he never asked if someone needed to take a break, and I must say my bladder is screaming at me. But I don’t ask anything, I’m too afraid of what he could answer. I try to act as I always do, but he never really reacts to the kiss I drop on his neck now and then.

"I'm hungry Dean, do you at least plan on stopping for food ?" Sam sighs.

"People are dying" Dean grunts with his closed tone.

"Yeah and we will be there in the middle of the night ! So we have time for a break ! What is wrong with you, man ?"

"Nothing. I'm fine, stop asking me what's wrong" he looks at me in the mirror quickly.

By the time we make it to the motel, I'm on the verge of crying. My head hurts, my bladder, but my heart is the worst.

I almost run to the bathroom when I got the key to our room, but Dean doesn’t join right away. Sitting on the bed, I try not to cry. He never made me feel like this, this is worst than being captive.

I can’t talk to him tonight. I’ll wait for the end of this case, maybe he doesn’t even want to be with me anymore. Dean doesn’t do relationship. He told me he loved me when he was dying : maybe he’s just regretting it. Feeling like he had no choice but commitment… No I don’t believe that, I can feel his love, I can hear it in his words, I can feel it in my core… Usually.

He enters our shared room and doesn't even look at me when he takes his jacket off. He's wearing that green Henley that makes me weak, the one I usually touch all the time ; but he's cold, and it's scares me.

Maybe it is because of this morning, he wanted me and I pushed him away... I need him close anyway, so I walk toward him. I don’t know what else to do, so I put a hand on his chest and approach my lips for a kiss. But he flinches.

He finches.

My breath gets stuck on my throat and I look at him in fear. But then he takes my hand and pushes it, and fear turns to terror…

"Don't touch me" he groans, turning his back on me.

I could puke or cry or die right now... What is happening ?

"Dean ?" I swallow hard. "Baby ?"

"Don't call me that..."

"What is happening Dean ? What did I do ?" I half sob already.

He turns around and suddenly he seems so tall, I take a step back.

"I don't know, you tell me" he rasps, his tone is so cold, it’s like he wanted to scare, or even hurt me with words. "What did you do with Sam ?"

"With Sam ? Dean… what do you mean ?" I frown.

"I MEAN !" he yells all of sudden, making me jump and take another step back, my blood runs cold, iced sweat is covering my back. "I CAN'T TOUCH YOU !” He grins with the anger of a crazy man and rolls his eyes. “Oh, yes… I can take you, quickly, from behind, like a fucking dog…” My eyes widen at the bluntness of his words. “But not touching you too much, or with the lights off, so you don't have to look at me, right ?... I'm not allowed to see you, to touch you anymore ! I can grab your ass but not kiss your boobs ? Do you know how it makes me feel Y/n ?” I open my mouth but he doesn’t let me the time to say anything. “What are you ? DISGUSTED WITH ME ?"

I put my two hands on my mouth, so shocked by what he is saying, feeling so guilty for making him feel unwanted.

"Dean..." I try to talk but he is furious now.

"DID YOU CHEAT ON ME ? WITH MY BROTHER !" he yells so loud I'm sure Sam heard from his room.

"NO !" I try but he's not listening.

"You can't do this to me Y/n, I love you too much” his voice breaks on the word love, he seems so vulnerable now. “I'm going crazy... I love you so fucking much ! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME !" he puts his hands on his hair. “I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME !” he grabs the wooden chair next to him and smashes it on the wall.

I flinch in a strangled cry. I hurt him so much. How can I not have seen this. How can he think that I would cheat on him, this is the worst.

“WITH MY FUCKING BROTHER !” the veins on his neck are showing and his eyes are red.

He can't think that... Before he yells again, I cut him.

"STOP DEAN ! LISTEN TO ME ! HOW CAN YOU ACUSE ME OF CHEATING ON YOU !” I realize how much it hurts me while I say it out loud. “Son of a bitch... You SON OF A BITCH !” I punch his chest. “Two weeks ago I was dying because of how much I love you ! I WAS DYING, DEAN ! I never touched your brother... How can you..." I cry, still hitting him. "I will never touch another man, you know that... Tell me you know that, baby... Please."

I come closer but he pushes me again and I burst in tears when I can’t take him in my arms.

"Dean..."

There are tears in his eyes.

"Don't lie to me." he groans low. "Don't touch me... You have a secret, I heard you..." a tear falls on his cheek. "With Sam... You're hiding someth..."

"I'm pregnant" I cut him, defeated. “I’m fucking pregnant, okay ?”

Silence. He stares at me like I had just slap him. I feel my guts make a thousand knots.

"I didn't tell you because this is my fault ! I... I'm the one who told you we don't need protection. I'm the one who fucking messed up ! And now you're gonna hate me..." I cry. "You don't want this, you don't need this... But I... I already love him because it's yours and I'm so sorry Dean... I can... I-I..."

"You're pregnant angel ?" he says, strangled.

I nod, the nickname warming me a little.

He comes close and searches my eyes, but I try to look down. He tries to take me in his arms but I keep on slightly hitting him, drowning in my own tears. So he cups my face with one hand and grabs my wrists with the other to keep me from punching him more. There is something there I can't read, but fear disappeared, how could fear vanish when I tell him that ? He frowns, I don't move, barely daring to breathe. Then he smiles.

"You are pregnant ?... How ?"

"I don't know... Gabriel says true love can do that sometimes..." I shrug and he takes me by the waist.

“I’m an idiot” he shakes his head. “I’m…”

He presses me against him, and I stay still. "You should have told me..." he whispers.

"I was terrified… I’m so sorry baby"

"How could you think I would hate you" he winces.

"How could you think I was cheating on you..." I look down.

"I'm sorry, I love you too much… It makes me stupid, this all new for me. I guess passionately doesn’t suits me so well…" he bends to kiss my lips.

I wrap my arms around him and sob because of the intense fear I just felt, he squeezes me.

"I'm sorry" I say. "I'm so sorry Dean."

"Don't be. Look at me angel." His eyes are so sure, they make all my worry fade. “I love you more than anything. And the truth is… I always loved the idea of being a father, I just thought, in this life…”

He cups my face and I stop crying, feeling his enveloping soul carry the world for me.

"It's going to be complicated, our life... It's not going to be easy everyday... But angel never, ever, think that I don't want this" there, I can read it now, it's adoration : the mysterious expression in his beautiful eyes. "You're making me so happy I can barely believe it !" he cries in a laugh.

Then he kisses me, he invades my mouth and slips his hand under my shirt. He suddenly breaks the kiss.

"Does it show ?" he asks looking down at my stomach ?

"A little..." I pull my shirt off and Dean's eyes widen. “Dean, this is the reason I… I don’t want you to feel unwanted…”

He puts his palm hesitantly on my lower belly and smiles in a way I never seen him.

"How long ?" he whispers still looking at my tiny bump.

"I think this is our middle-of-the-night-impala-sex, baby..." I shrug, not really knowing how I can be so sure, but this is something I feel since I know. "It's a… It’s a boy."

"You already know ?" he puts his forehead on mine.

"Yeah, Gabriel told me when he healed me and brought you back. I'm sorry Dean, that's the only reason I didn't want you to touch my stomach I swear... And my boobs, they just hurt most of the time... But you know I’m yours, right ?"

"I know, angel, I’m sorry…” He stares at his hand on my skin. “A baby boy..." Dean says dreamingly.

"Yes..."

He bends to kiss my lips once again, letting his fingers go through my hair in a soft moan. I cling to him, pressing on his back to keep him close, I let him take away all the fear and sadness.

"Never lie to me again angel" he pleads, his clumsy hands stroking my hair. “Never…”

"Never die again" I answer.

Dean's Pov

I put my keys and the grocery bags on the table and pout, Y/n was supposed to be here when I come back.

"Angel ?" I call.

"Kitchen !"

I smile and rush toward her. I left before she woke up this morning and I miss her so much already.

When I enter the kitchen, my eyes widen. She's in just her panties and bra, her six months baby bump pointing proudly at me, she has done her hair and nails. She's so beautiful.

"Angel, where are the others ?" I worry a little, ready to put my hands to hide her.

"Gone" she smiles, biting her lower lip.

"Oh..." I groan.

She bites in a peace of dark chocolate, making it crack between her teeth.

"Yeah...” she purrs.

She licks her lips and I can imagine how sweet they must be right now. Then she skims the front of her panties…

“And I'm so horny" she grins.

"Are you baby girl ?" I ask very low, knowing how much my deep voice can arouse her.

She licks her lips and wraps her hands around my neck. I put my palms on her belly and hum, but she steals my smile by kissing me passionately, she tastes like chocolate.

She moans in the kiss, making me hard already.

"Dean... touch me" she begs me, taking one of my hands off of her stomach to put it between her legs.

"Wow, angel, you really are horny... Oh ! And wet !"

"Yeah..." she moans when I rub my fingers on her pussy through the fabric. "Yeah Dean..."

I know her body, and my thick fingers rubs between her entrance and her clit, making her moan, I can feel her muscles clench around nothing through the fabric, she’s biting my neck now.

I have to be careful, this is way too hot… I could let myself go and hurt her, or the baby. I’m tall and heavy and big. I’m so afraid of what I could do to that treasure inside of her.

The moment I'm about to offer her to take this to the bedroom, she starts undoing my belt.

"Wow Y/n you act like you haven't seen me in a week" I smile kissing her jaw. "Hormones ?"

"No" she moans squeezing her thighs to keep my hand between her legs. "I just want you..."

She slips her hand on my pants and grabs my cock. I feel myself twitch in her hand and I growl, nibbling at her throat, desperate to throw myself at her. Her thumb strokes the head and she rolls her hips against my hand.

"Let's take it to the bed angel" I pant.

"No..." she whispers, pulling me back with her.

She sits on the table and opens her legs, tugging at my shirt to make me come closer. I kiss her softly, massaging her thighs. She's burning up, damn, she's soaking the table.

"Fuck me Dean" she begs. “Here. Now.”

"Angel..." I try hold back. "Baby, I can't do that..."

She breaks the kiss and looks at me like she was about to break my nose.

"Dean, I love you... And I love you making sweet and tender love to me... You know that ?"

I nod, not really knowing why she's saying that.

"But lately..." she whines. "Dean... you can't be all sweet and tender all the time. I need you to be my lover, but I really need you to be my strong manly warrior… Dean…” she whines. “Fuck me now. Hard."

I swallow hard.

"I don't want to hurt the baby..." I admit.

"I know… I know and I love you for that. But believe me, you won't" she states. "I’m stronger than you think but I will burst in flames and die if you don’t give me what I need, baby. I promise, just don't crush me. But please..." she comes closer to my ear and strokes my cock slowly. "I miss your bruising hands, I miss your teeth and those groans you let out when you don't hold back..." she purrs.

I take a shaky breath and fall on my knees.

The second my head come near to her pussy she stars wiggling. I kiss her where she needs it and graze my teeth on her clit through the soaked fabric. Her hands come to my hair, she grabs what she can and tugs at it to the point of pain, I miss it too, I miss her scratching my back so bad I bleed. I miss the feeling of perfect trust when we switch from rough to tender, and all the other way around.

I moan and push her panties to the side to fest on her freely. I look up but she's hanging her head back and her swollen belly keeps me from seeing her face.

She moans loud, her legs wrap around me.

"Dean !" she cries out when I flatten my tongue.

Her nails are digging in my scalp, she keeps my mouth on her, and my head is spinning. I try not to think about my baby boy in her womb, this is so strange for me, I always fear I could hurt them. But she's right, I have to trust her. She knows exactly what to tell me if I go to far, or to rough.

I grab her thighs and push on her body, to make her lay down on the kitchen table, she gasps. I take her panties down and throw it somewhere in the kitchen. Then I attack her again, using my lips to make her beg, I know she loves my lips so I make her enjoy every part of them... And my tongue. I could come just hearing the plaintive sounds she makes when this is too good for her to take.

This time she comes really quick, her thighs crushing my head when I keep licking her during her high, her voice lost in sacrilegious prayers.

"You okay ?" I ask kissing her thighs and her baby bump.

She nods, wiping her sweaty face with her palms.

I take my jeans down and smile at her devilishly.

"You stop me if I hurt you, or..."

"Yeah, Dean, you won't break me" she says opening her legs. “Please I feel like I was in heat right now… I need you.”

I can't hold back anymore and dig my fingers on the skin of her thighs. Before she can move I enter her in one sharp movement, growling and clenching my teeth. She’s tight and pulsing.

"Fuck, Y/n..." I mutter, almost withdrawing, then slamming back inside her.

"More... Dean baby more..." she pleads.

So I lift her legs above my shoulder and put a knee on the table. My thrusts are ruthless now, her mouth is wide open. My arm grabs the table next to head and she does that thing where she licks the skin of my wrist she can reach, like she was in heat indeed…

When I can't go deeper anymore, she starts making those pornographic noises. And I already feel my balls tighten, but I can't cum now. I bend, careful not to crush her belly, to kiss her lips, and she grabs my ass.

"Angel, this is too good..." I pant.

The kitchen table creaks. She lifts her arms and clutches the edge of it, arching her back. Her walls flutter around me, she's close.

Her voice dies in her throat again, her neck red and her eyes shut. Her legs shake and her hands come to my arms, clinging to it with her nails. She comes hard. Just seeing her like that could make me cum, but the way I'm buried deep inside her, the way she's pulsing around me... I grasp her hips and squeeze hard as I pound three more time inside her, growling, before I cum in a desperate moan, not really caring what sound I make, she loves them all anyway.

It takes me a few minutes to catch my breath. She's stroking my back lovingly, and smiles with a pure expression of bliss on her face.

"See, you didn't hurt me, baby" she says. "I mean, I might not be able to walk for a few days. But it was totally worth it" she laughs, biting her teeth.

"I love you" I say, taking her in my arms.

"I love you more" she snuggles against me.

*******

"I love our baby but he's coming between us" she says when she can't get comfortable on the couch.

"Put you back on me" I suggest.

"But I want to see you" she pouts.

I move a little and she snuggles on my chest on her side, her head on the crook of my neck. She looks up and I can see her mischievous gaze under her eyelashes.

"Don't look at me like that, I just had to tighten the kitchen's table bolt" I smile, kissing her nose. “And you scratched my ass, it hurt when I sit.”

"I was not thinking about that" she puts light kisses on my jaw, slipping her arm under my shirt to touch the creases muscles of my stomach. "We had a lot of long talks about how to act while I'm pregnant, and no, Dean, I'm not staying at home alone while you’re hunting..."

"I know, you made it very clear..." I sigh.

Y/n can't stand being alone at home, and crying my death for two months in my bed didn't help. So, even pregnant, she insists on coming with us on hunts. She doesn't hunt of course, she stays at the motel, doing researches, or just resting. But I know that, soon, hours in the car won't be a good thing for her, and I'll have to just let Sammy, Jack and Cas hunt without me. The truth is I can't be without her either, so I don’t really care.

"We barely spoke about when the little boy arrives" she adds, slightly tickling my stomach unintentionally.

"We said we won't move out, and that Sammy will be the nanny" I smile.

She kisses my jaw and lets her lips linger for a second.

"Yeah" she says. "Mh… You smell so good” I love when she says things like that. She continues. “I just... I don't want to lie to him, and I don't want to raise him as a hunter either."

"I won't ever raised my boy like I was" I say a little too gravely, rubbing her bump protectively.

"No, Dean, don't worry, this is not the plan. But see, from what you told me, lies have hurt your family a lot, Mary being a hunter, the deal with yellow eyes..." she starts and I look down at her with pure love in my eyes.

This is one of those moments when she gives meaning to my life, when she talks with kindness and without judgment, making things clear and honest. Easier.

"I want our son to hold all the cards, to have a choice ; to be able to do informed choices" she speaks clear and calm, searching my eyes.

She makes everything so simple. I can already see our little boy coming back from school and play with Cas’ magic. She always says she is going to be an awful mother because she never knew love or care or normal, and that I’ll have to be that perfect caring father I was for Sammy… Her words. The truth is she’s already an incredible mom.

"I agree" I simply answer. "No lies. Daddy's a hunter and mommy's an angel..."

With that I feel my heart beat faster, I'd never said "Daddy" or imagine someone would call me that... I'm all moved again.

"And you can go to college..." she adds with a soft smile. "You can be anything you want as long as you are careful and wise" she says to her belly.

"I love you so much" I think out loud.

"I love you more."

Reader's Pov

When the soft doorbell rings, people turn toward us. I really love this diner, I don't know why, maybe because it's the first place Dean ever brought me, maybe it's because it's next to home.

Dean takes my waist and leads me to a table, he kisses my temple before he sits in front of me, laughing a little when I grunt sitting down.

"What ? You're son is heavy" I groan.

"Dean" a voice says.

When I turn my head, I recognize her right away. Julia. She doesn't even look at me, her eyes on Dean. I feel a sharp pain in my chest just knowing he has been inside her. Just knowing she thinks about him that way.

"Julia" he says with an awkward smile that makes the pain even worse. "How are you ?"

"I'm fine" she bites her lip and I'm about to kill her. I literally can picture myself smashing her face on the table corner.

"What do you want angel ?" Dean asks me, chasing my violent thoughts away.

Julia turns her eyes to me and I can see them widen a little, it's not like I still can hide my secret baby, I'm seven months now and the little Winchester inside of me seems to be like his dad, maybe even his uncle.

Her face changes utterly, her jaw clenches. I can see Dean was not just a one night stand for her, she actually likes him, she wants him.

"I thought you didn't do relationships..." she grunts.

He seems surprised to hear her voice change. Dean is still oblivious to the effect he has on women. I thought, when we got together, that he would know, being so handsome and having slept with so many women, but he doesn't, really. He barely notices when a woman looks at him most of the time, and I'm the one telling him. That makes him laugh, he says I think they find him attractive because I love him. The truth is I have seen that look so many times. That jealousy, that envy. This is even worse since my baby boy is showing, like he was the proof of some war I won against them, like I had tricked Dean, or won him ; like he was the price of some sick life lottery. They don't understand. He's none of that, he's just the love of my life... I didn't win him, and I certainly didn't trap him.

"I changed my mind" he just states looking at me.

Then he ignores her. I can’t really do that but I try.

“So…” he catches my attention when the heartbroken waitress leaves to order our food. “John ?”

“We are not naming our son after your father Dean” she states stern. “Not happening.”

I smile and shrug.

“Well we are not naming him after yours either” I say and she laughs, nodding.

When she brings my food I look at it, hesitating. She might have spit in it…

*******

I hold my baby in my arms, my eyes on his little form, completely in awe, like I was floating in the clouds with him, Dean being the sun above us. His tiny hand squeezes my finger, his serene face on my chest. Another tear roll on my cheek.

I can’t stop looking between him and Dean, asleep on the chair. My poor baby didn’t sleep for so long, he just passed out a few minutes ago. I can already see so many resemblances between them : his plumb pouting mouth, the shape of his face, even his hands already looks like Dean’s.

A soft sound of wings catches my attention, but I don’t even look up.

“He’s incredible” Gabriel says.

“He looks like Dean” I smile with my eyes wet.

“Yeah, but he took a lot from you believe me. Look at his navel” he says and I push the soft fabric a little to see the perfectly formed belly button.

“He’s going to be tall and strong…” the archangel says. “Can I ?”

I hesitated for a second but the emotion in his golden eyes makes me smile. He puts a hand on my newborn’s forehead and sighs with happiness.

“You have a splendid soul little boy… Angels are watching over you” he whispers.

“Not too much I hope” I grunt, taking him closer again protectively.

“I have a present for you, Y/n” he says. “You’re going to Heaven… When you… In a long time. You’ll be with Dean” he says and I start to cry.

“Thank you” I sob. “For everything…”

“Call me if you need me” he adds, serious, and I nod.

*******

I wake up in a sigh. The room is dark and warm, I can feel Dean pressed against my back, his cock half hard on my ass. He cups my breasts and I yawn.

“Hi angel…” he whispers, his breath hot on my neck.

“Hi love” I giggle when he pinches my nipple.

He pushes my leg a little with his strong thigh and his hand travel from my chest to my bare pussy. His index rubs my clit and I wiggle, getting comfortable.

“Can I ?” he asks and I hum, pushing back on his cock.

He kisses my neck and my cheek, his other hand keeping my chin slightly up.

“Shit baby…” I start to moan when his middle finger enters me.

“You like that ?”

“You know I do. A-another one, please, deeper baby…” I moan and he adds a finger.

Then the door opens slowly and he freezes. I try to stop panting.

A little boy in a batman sleep suit enters, his thumb between his lips.

“Mommy ?” he calls, his big green eyes searching me in the darkness of the room.

“Yeah kitten ?” I try to sound casual.

He pushes his adorable messy blond hair out of his face.

“Where is Daddy ?” he asks with this slight lisp.

“I’m right here little bean, what do you want ?” Dean says close to me ear.

“Cookies…”

“Go ask uncle Sammy, mommy needs me to sleep with her a little more, then I’ll join you and we go out to play ball, okay little bean ?”

“Yeah but uncle Sammy’s sleeping…” he sighs, shrugging like he often does when thinks adults are silly.

“You can wake him up” I answer.

“Reaaaally ?” he jumps.

“Yeah, go ahead, climb on his bed” Dean says with a tender smile.

And the little boy goes running.

“Jude !” Dean calls. “Close the door !”

Dean’s Pov

I enter the library and Jude is drawing on Sammy’s lap. I kiss his head and sit next to him. He pushes me like he always does when he’s focusing on something, but I can see his dimples appear in a satisfied smile. My little bean really is smart, always having ideas and asking questions, he puts all his heart in everything he does. I watch as his cute little tongue appears between his teeth.

“What are you drawing ?” I ask and Sam chuckles.

“I have to draw my favorite super hero for school” he states.

“Batman again ?” I bend my head to look at the sheet.

“Nah…” he shrugs like I was saying something stupid. “Batman doesn’t have superpower ! I’m drawing mommy” he grins.

__________________________________________

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ikonsmut · 5 years

Text

NSFW alphabet | JAY

A - aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

aftercare with jinhwan is a bit lazy but he takes it seriously. all he really wants to do is pass out with you snuggled against him, but he can’t do that before checking and double checking that you’re okay

B - body part (their favorite body part of their partners)

jinhwan doesn’t really have a favorite body part. not to sound sappy or anything, but he loves all of you and he’ll make sure that you know it

C - cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he likes to cum on your face or your chest, if he can help it. there’s just something about seeing you like that, covered in his release, that turns him on so much

D - dirty secret (self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’s never brought it up, and he hopes that you never will, but both of you know about that pair of your undies tucked between his mattresses that he likes to bring out when he’s bored and lonely. the lace doesn’t compare to you, but it’s better than just his hand, right?

E - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s pretty experienced, so he knows what he’s doing and he’s quite good at it

F - favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy style!! jinhwan is a dominant guy, so any position where he’s in full control is his favorite, but there’s so much he can do with you when you’re on your hands and knees for him like that

G - goofy (are they more serious in the moment, are they humorous, etc)

somewhere in the middle. sex is serious, but he still wants to keep the mood light. he’ll tease you, or smile and tell you how beautiful you are, or even tell you little things to make you laugh

H - hair (how well groomed are they, etc)

he’s not bare, but he does prefer to keep things short. grooming isn’t very high on his list of priorities, especially since he’s not that hairy to begin with, but he never lets it grow past a certain point. 1/3 of the borderline bare boys

I - intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

jinhwan is a very romantic lover, but he isn’t the type to go all out. he can easily show his love by doing little things like covering the bed in rose petals and lighting your favorite scented candle or taking the time to kiss every inch of you

J - jack off (masturbation headcanon)

if he’s horny and he’s got time, he’s going to do something about it. everyone knows when he’s getting himself off, too, because he’s so loud. if he wakes up from a wet dream and you’re next to him, he’ll edge himself until you wake up to help

K - kink (one or more of their kinks)

jinhwan is a mean dom, and he’ll do the most to remind you that he’s the one in charge. denying you orgasms, giving you as many as you can take, orgasm control is one of his favorite kinks and it boosts his confidence knowing that your pleasure all depends on him

L - location (favorite places to do the do)

he loves to fuck you in the living room when no one else is home. afterwards, he’ll whisper in your ear to remind you what the two of you had done right where everyone is sitting now. when he can’t fuck you there, he’ll do it in his room, rest assured everyone knows what you two are doing

M - motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

he’s not the easiest to turn on, the mood has to be right or he won’t be into it. one sure-fire way to get him is by touching him; grasping his thigh, tracing your fingers along his tattoos, or pressing soft kisses to his neck almost always works

N - no (something they wouldn’t do)

jinhwan would never share you, so threesomes or voyeurism is off the table. he doesn’t care if people hear how good he’s fucking you, but he would never take it a step further than that

O - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

the king of oral, his tongue alone can bring you to the edge within minutes but when he adds his fingers? you’re a shaking mess. he also likes to tease; giving you just little kitten licks, making eye contact while he goes down on you and smacking your shaking thighs. as for receiving, he’ll never turn down getting his dick sucked, and you can count on him holding your head still while he fucks your throat im a mess

P - pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc)

jinhwan will start off with slow, shallow thrusts, but once you start begging him to pick up the pace, he’ll be going so fast and hard that your head is spinning. he isn’t necessarily rough, his thrusts are just very quick and deep

Q - quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

on one hand, jinhwan never wants to pass up an opportunity to bury himself inside of you. on the other hand, he would much rather take time to please both of you right. quickies are rare but they do happen from time to time, especially if one of you is feeling particularly needy

R - risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)

one of the least experimental members, he likes what he’s doing already, so why change it up? if you suggest something you want to try, he’ll consider it, but he doesn’t bring anything up on his own

S - stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

jinhwan tends to spend a while on foreplay, plus he loves to tease you, but the actual sex lasts for about ten minutes. he’s usually good for two or three rounds so long as he gets a breather in-between

T - toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

toys aren’t really his thing (he’s got a dick and it works just fine) but he does own two; a vibrator and some silk rope. he doesn’t use them often, he prefers when you moan and cry because of his cock, so when you see him with them you know you’re in for a long night

U - unfair (how much they like to tease)

jinhwan loves to tease!! he loves to hear you cry, feel you shake, and he especially loves it when you beg for him to fuck you. nothing boosts his confidence like having you so desperate for him

V - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

as previously stated, he is very loud… a whiner!! if something feels good, you’ll know by the high pitched whining in your ear. afterwards, he gets pretty shy about the noises he made, no matter how sexy cute they were

W - wildcard (random headcanon)

the first time was an accident, but now he can’t get enough of it. jinhwan is 1/3 of the members i can see being into mutual masturbation. when he first walked in, he automatically walked back out and tried to get the image out of his head… except he couldn’t. it was so hot to see you like that. now whenever you’re getting off, it’s only a matter of time before jinhwan walks in with his pants undone

X - xray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

may i just say that i HATE this one jinhwan is average. he’s not too small, but he’s not too big either. 5-5.3” when he’s hard, and he’s pretty thick, too

Y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

his sex drive isn’t insanely high, but it’s enough for him to want you every single day. that’s not necessarily realistic given his schedule, but 4-5 times a week keeps him happy and satiated

Z - zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he tries so hard to wait for you before he knocks out, but once you’re back in his arms, jinhwan is OUT. you can try and talk to him afterward, but don’t be surprised when he falls asleep halfway through his sentence

sorry for the sudden inactivity!! i wanted to post this on thursday but didn’t have time to finish before the got7 concert (which was awesome!!) i’m not always on this account, so if you want or need to talk to me about literally anything, my main blog is @ultmino!

#jinhwan smut #jay smut #ikon smut #kpop smut #i think i’m happy with this #admin kc

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