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giggly-squiggily · 2 years

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Taking Note (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Heyo! So I’ve been really loving Bungou Stray Dogs as of late (Onto the movie!) and the idea of Lee!Dazai makes me so soft? I figured I’d try my hand at this fandom! I hope you like it!

Summary: Dazai is messing with Kunikida. Again. What happens when our Doppo Poet discovers something new of our dear Dazai?

“Kuniiiii…I have something to tell yoooou….” Dazai twisted in his seat, lying on his stomach with his chin in his hands, ankles kicking behind him innocently.

Kunikida glared, untrusting. You never knew what you were getting into with that man. “Whatever it is, save it. I’m working on some important things right now, and the last thing I need is your distractions-“

“But Kunakida, it’s also important!” Dazai jumped in, a hint of a whine in his voice as he gave the other his best puppy eyes. “So important you just might learn something new~”

Kunikida felt something twitch. He knew the other was most likely messing with him, yet…

“Fine, what is it?” He grunted, hating himself for giving in. Dazai’s eyes twinkled. “Did you know there’s an old method of holding a pen that acts as a form of meditation for the writer?”

Kunikira blinked, taken aback by the sudden topic. “An old method? I hadn’t heard of it…” his notebook was in hand almost instantly, pen flipped to a new page as he began to write. “How does it go?”

“Easy enough- you have to hold the pen with your thumb and your index finger.” Dazai bit down a smile as he watched Kunikida do so. “Then, you have to arch your wrist back- too much! Lower it just a smidge…there!” The blonde looked at his clawed hand now, brows furrowing. “This doesn’t feel very relaxing, Dazai.”

“Trust the process! Now, take that hand and place it against your forehead. It will channel your chi!” Dazai instructed, nodding enthusiastically as Kunikida did so. “Okay, now what?” He asked. With the pen pointing outward and his hand against his face…

“Now you’re a unicorn!” Dazai clapped, the barely restrained gremlin giggles bursting out of his lips as Kunikida’s pen snapped, rage flushing his features. “DAZAI!” He whirled in his seat, fuming.

“Bwahahhaha! I dihihidn’t think it wohohould wohohork! Ahahahaha!” Dazai lost it, face pressed into the arm of the couch as his shoulders shook with mirth. Muffled cackles and laughs filled the near empty office, only fueling Kunikida’s rage. “Why you insufferable- that is IT! You’ve made a fool of me one too many times, Dazai!”

“Gahahaha! Kuhuhuni wahahit! Dohohon’t be tohohoo mahahd!” Dazai tried to look up, only giggling harder as the other approached, his expression dark with fury. “Ahahahaha, you lohohohook lihike an ahahahngry hohohorse!”

“Oh you son of a- Come here!” Kunikida shot his hands out, going to strangle the other. However, the minute his hands came in contact with his neck, Dazai spasmed with a shriek.

Both men startled, Kunikida jumping away and raising his hands. Shit- did he hurt him? This wasn’t the first time they’ve done this- but his reaction…

Dazai looked just as alarmed, eyes wide a a hand came to his neck. Slowly, his eyes met Kunikida’s, a rare yet noticeable blush spreading across his features. His face was one of not fear but rather…embarrassment. “Erm…ehehe, now where did that come from?” He joked, eyes widening even more when the other put two and two together. “Oh, I see now…”

“Wait- now hold on! Kunikid-AH!” Dazai yelped again when the other darted a hand out, fingers barely brushing against the taped skin of his neck. Dazai scrunched, hands coming up weakly as a reluctant smile pulled at his lips. “Dohon’t you dare!”

“How did I not see this sooner?” Kunikida was fast, quickly shoving Dazai back on the couch, sitting on his butt. “Your neck is ticklish!”

“Kunihihihihihihi! Wahahhahahahait whahahahahit nohohohoho! Gahahahhahaha!” Dazai all but squealed the minute those long fingers found his neck, hands squeezing gently along the base as they wriggled against the sensitive skin. Even with the tape he could feel it. The man beneath him let out a birdlike squawk before dissolving into laughter, squirming in vain to send the other off. “Nohohohohohohohot the neheheheheheheheck!”

“Why not? Seems like it has a fairly strong reaction.” Kunikida mused out loud, a smile pulling on his lips. “How did you manage to hide this from me for so long? Think of all the pens I could have saved!”

“Thahahahhahat souuhuhuhuhnds lihihihihike a yohohoohohohu prohohohoohblem- GAH Nohohohohoohoohohoho!” Dazai arched with a squeal when Kunikida darted two fingers up, giving the back of his ears a little scratch. His legs kicked helplessly behind him, momentarily mimicking a dog. “Mohohohoohohove sohohoohoohmewhehehehere ehehhehehehelse!”

“Hmm…well, if you insist.” Kunikida shrugged in mock indifference. He pressed one hand into Dazai’s shoulders to hold him down, the other dropping to his side to experiment. He gave his ribs a few pinches to see what would happen.

“Aheahhahahhahaha! Wahahhait! Nohohohot theheheheere eehheeheheheheitheehehehr!” Dazai yelped, his laughter growing anew as another tickle spot was discovered. His cheeks were beginning to stain a lovely red, eyes squeezed shut with mirth as he pressed his arms into his sides tightly.

“Ugh, make up your mind! It’s “Oh, don’t tickle my neck! Not my ticklish neck!” and then “Oh not my ribs! Please anywhere but my ticklish ribs!” Kunikida teased, rolling his eyes affectionately as Dazai’s seemingly endless cackles danced around them. “Tell you what- you stop messing with me today and I’ll let you go, deal?”

“Buuuhuhuuhuuhuhut I liihihihihihke mehehehehehhehhesihihiiihng wihihihihth yohoohohu!” Dazai cried, reaching back to try and retaliate. That proved to be a horrible idea, as Kunikida shot his hands up and into his armpits.

The squeal that rang out from their corner of the office could have easily been mistaken for a fire alarm.

“Oh, bad spot?” Kunikida noted.

“KUHUUHUHUUHUHNI! GAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! PLEHAHHAHAHAHAHSE IHIHIHIIHIM SHAHHAHAHAHARRY!” Dazai howled with laughter, clinging to the couch for dear life as he laughed himself near delirious. He knew what must be done. “OHOHOHOKAY! OOHOOHOHKAY I WOOHOHOHOHOHON’T MEHEHEHESS WIHIHIHITH YOHOHOHOOHU TOHOOHHODAY!”

“Just today?” Kunikida raised a brow. “What about tomorrow?”

“NOHOHOHOHOO PROHOHOHOHOMISES!”

“....Fine, I’ll take it.” Kunikida pulled his hands back, standing up and leaving the warn out agency member to roll onto the floor, curling into a loose ball as residue giggles escaped his lips. “Ahehahaha…yohoohure sohoohoho mehahhahaan!” Dazai groaned from his spot, earning a light kick to the foot. “Hush. You were the one making me out to be a fool.” Kunikida returned to his desk, opening his notes and adding today's new discovery to his page.

Dazai: Weakness- Rather ticklish. Good spots are neck, ears and ribs-

A sudden jab to his waist made him nearly throw his notebook, a yelp escaping his lips.

“Ahehehehee….looks like I’m not the only one who’s ticklish.” Dazai’s gremlin snickers could be heard from below. Kunikida glared at him, eyeing the fingers that wiggled rather dangerously near his waist. “Dazai…what happened to you not messing with me today?”

“Oh this? I’m not messing with you,” Dazai’s eyes danced. “This is revenge!”

Thanks for reading!

#Bungou Stray Dogs #dazai osamu #kunikida doppo #tickle #tickle fic

139 notes · View notes

archived-kin · 3 years

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solomon deserves a husband so i'm giving him one (it's you)

note from kin: i don’t know HOW i’ve managed to get this out so soon after my last piece but i do know that it is a miracle (now watch me disappear for like a month lmao)

anyway there’s a severe lack of content for the boys in this fandom and therefore i am here to try to mitigate that!!

(as a heads up, this is sort of an au version of obey me’s story?? there’s no exchange program, and the general human world doesn’t know about the devildom or celestial realm, apart from sorcerers and similar special cases. solomon and simeon both still visit the devildom, though - solomon because he has a sort of job at the r.a.d., and simeon as an ambassador sort of thing for the celestial realm. the r.a.d.’s also less of a school and more of an organisation?? i haven’t really fleshed it out haha)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male! reader, solomon, mammon (briefly), simeon (briefly)

pairing(s): solomon/reader

warning(s): blasphemy??? solomon disses god really briefly and that’s about it

genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!

As a general rule of thumb, Solomon doesn’t believe in destiny.

He’s lived long enough to know that, no matter what he does, the universe does not care about him, much less have some sort of plan for his future. The course that the world takes isn’t affected by some grand puppet master pulling the strings; one has to force the so-called path of fate in the direction they want it to take if they want something. Solomon knows this better than anyone.

It’s as much a downfall as it is a strength - as much as power as he’s amassed over the countless years, his constant need to challenge the universe’s power has lead him down a path far from humanity. There had been a time when he was like every other human on the Earth, when he was still young, full of hope and determination and promise, believing earnestly in some God high in the sky who would guide him through his life.

He shudders to think what sort of insufferable fool he’d been back then. An almighty God? Don’t make him laugh. The ruler of the Celestial Realm is incompetent at best, and a downright childish brat at worst. He doesn’t know how the angels put up with him - though he supposes his realm-smiting power is part of it. Why the universe chose to place such power on such a being’s shoulders will always be beyond him.

Long as it has been since he had been so naive, Solomon has learnt his lesson, to say the least. He’s seen people come and go, witnessed kings and queens reign and fall, watched on as friends and family live and die. It’s a truth that he’s been forced to learn across the years of his long, long life, a curse that he brought upon himself the moment he gave up the purity of his soul in pursuit of magical arts.

He supposes he’s always had an insatiable thirst for the unknown - to play all his cards out front, to tempt fate’s hand, to jump into the void and hope to find ground beneath his feet when he lands. It’s that sort of reckless abandon and hunt for knowledge that has led him so far down this path, through so many years, across so many sleepless nights. The world continues to swirl around him, always changing, but Solomon refuses to be swept away. Because, even in the tumultuous movement of the universe, there has always been one constant that keeps him anchored - you.

The night he'd first met you isn’t as clear in his mind as he would have liked. He wants to be able to remember everything - the way the soft blue light of the will-o’-whisps had lit up your eyes in the dark of the night, the way that your hand had felt in his as you greeted him with a handshake, the way that you had said his name for the first time - in sharp detail, but Solomon knows better than to hope to recall something so long ago so perfectly.

He’d still been relatively new to a sorcerer’s life at the time - excited and determined and a little too full of himself. You… well, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he does remember thinking that you must be the most handsome being to exist. The you of today would probably shake your head and dismiss the past you as an obnoxious high hoper, but Solomon has loved you for so many years that he’s never been able to think of you as anything less than perfect.

There are times when he wondered how he managed to stumble upon such luck. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Solomon has has had truly insufferable periods over the years he’s known you, and he’s always considered it a miracle that you still chose to stay. Even through all the restless nights and the exhausting trips, even after all of the clashes and vexation, you have refused to give up on him.

He had asked you once, in the aftermath of an argument spurred by his inability to confide in you and your own frustration with his refusal to communicate. He remembers that night so vividly that it might well have happened just yesterday - the frustrated shouts, the shattering of glass, the warmth of your arms around his shoulders as he finally collapsed on himself. He doesn’t know what your face had looked like as he stuttered the question out in stuttering breaths, head buried in your shoulder in an effort to conceal his tears, but he imagines that it had been soft.

“I’m not going to leave you to yourself,” You had told him matter-of-factly, stroking his hair with such fondness that it still sometimes brings a tear to his eye when he remembers it on particularly long nights. “And I’m not giving up on you, either - not now, not ever.”

Solomon had been unable to speak, too choked up by his feelings and the sudden, overwhelming love spreading through his entire body to reply. He’d only sunk deeper into your embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever.

I wonder if he still remembers that…?

“...lomon! Anyone home?!”

He jolts up from the table he’s sitting at so abruptly that he nearly knocks his head right into Mammon’s chin. The Avater of Greed, however, reacts quickly, and hops back before Solomon can break his jawbone.

“Jeez, you’re off on a different planet today,” He comments, setting his hands on his hips as Solomon shoots him the sort of look that tells him that he’s not particularly enthused about his presence at the moment. “What’s up with ya?”

Solomon isn’t quite sure how to answer. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about how perfect and lovely my husband is and how I’m the luckiest man in the entire world - nay, the universe - to have him. He nearly physically shudders at the thought of how much teasing he’d receive if he answered like that.

Instead, he chooses a much safer and still technically true option. “Just thinking about going home today.”

Mammon nods in understanding, pulling up a seat next to him and throwing himself down into it without much grace. “I feel ya. S’ been a long day.”

“You’ve barely done anything today,” Solomon quips flatly, not particularly impressed by the demon’s attempt at… empathy? Relatability? Either way, it isn’t working. “I doubt it’s been that hard.”

“Now, now, Solomon, let’s not be rude,” interjects a soft voice from behind them. Simeon is still dressed in his fancy envoy cloak - the one so long and heavy that it trails along behind him like a bridal train, decorated with a number of elaborate golden charms that jingle as he moves.

Solomon attempts to shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but it’s kind of hard to stay irritated by one of the literal embodiments of holiness and light, even if he wakes you up at very unholy hours of the morning to help him figure out how to answer an email. Solomon isn’t ungrateful for the new age of technology descending on humanity, but he’d like it a lot better if it hadn’t somehow reached the angels as well. The amount of times he’s had to tell Simeon that he needs to actually turn his D.D.D. on before he starts calling someone is… embarrassing, to say the least.

“You’re back in the Devildom, I see,” He observes as the angel pulls up a seat and sits beside him. “Did Michael send you down again?”

Simeon nods with a smile. “There were some arrangements that needed to be made with Lord Diavolo. Naturally, I volunteered.”

“Naturally,” Solomon echoes, raising a brow at his friend. “I don’t suppose your biases had anything to do with your decision?”

“Well, they may have had some effect,” Simeon answers with a shameless smile and shrug, beginning to undo the tassels of his heavy cloak and draping it on the back of chair he’s sitting on. He’s still wearing all of his regular clothes underneath it - including the other, much smaller cloak. Solomon wonders how he hasn’t somehow melted in the heat.

“When’re you gonna start heading home, anyway?” Mammon asks, beginning to pick at a loose thread on his jacket sleeve. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Solomon blinks and looks up at the clock. “...ah, you’re right. In that case, I'll get going now.”

Mammon shoots him an odd look as he pushes himself up from the table and reaches for his bag, managing to hoist it onto his shoulder with some effort. He’s never been particularly good at heavy lifting - you’re usually the one helping him carry everything around the house.

“Oi, oi, what’s the rush?” the demon asks as Solomon adjusts the weight of his bag and starts heading for the door. “You on a timer or something?”

“I promised [Name] I’d be home earlier tonight,” is Solomon’s slightly absent-minded reply as he fiddles about in his pocket to find his transportation charm, nearly losing his balance and dropping his bag in the process. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Mammon watches him in clear confusion for a moment as he pats down his pockets, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as he realises that he’s left his charm at home again. How many times this month does that make it now...? He supposes that he could always perform a teleportation spell, but knowing his luck with those, he’ll probably end up somewhere in Morocco again.

“Oi, Simeon,” Mammon hisses to the angel, who cocks his head slightly to the side and leans over so as to hear him more clearly. “Who’s this ‘[Name]’ Solomon’s talkin’ about?”

“You don’t know?” Simeon blinks at him in blatant perplexion - as if he can’t even fathom the idea that Mammon might not know who Solomon’s talking about. “He’s talking about his husband.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then—

“Solomon has a HUSBAND!?” Mammon practically shrieks, completely flabbergasted. “I thought he was totally, like, the forever alone type!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?” is Simeon’s bewildered response. “Who do you think Solomon is always talking about buying groceries for?”

“I thought he was just buyin’ them for himself!” Mammon fires back, looking far more ruffled and shocked than he probably should be. He whips around to look at Solomon, who’s flicking through the little packet of blank charms he keeps on him at all times in an effort to find the right one to create a temporary transportation charm. He’s had to do it so many times this month that he’s already beginning to run out. “You’re married?!”

“Of course,” Solomon answers vaguely, briefly raising his left hand, allowing Mammon to spot the soft glint of a ring around his fourth finger. “You’re not?”

“Wh— ‘course I’m not!” Mammon exclaims, positively scandalised by the very concept. “Why would I get married, huh?! It’s a waste of time and a waste of money!”

“Think whatever you like,” Solomon dismisses him easily, which only seems to irritate Mammon further.

Finally having found the right blank charm, he plucks it out and begins carefully tracing patterns onto it with a single glowing finger. He’s dimly aware of Mammon furiously whispering to Simeon in the background, with the angel responding in kind, most likely sharing some exaggerated story from back when the three of you had worked together - when Solomon had accepted a job from the Celestial Realm. The details of the whole thing are a little fuzzy to him now, long as it has been, but he’s almost completely sure that Simeon somehow still remembers the whole thing flawlessly.

“How old even is he?!” He hears Mammon hiss.

“I’m not so sure myself,” Simeon replies, placing his chin in a thoughtful hand. “Let’s see… their two millennial anniversary’s coming up in about two years, and I remember Solomon saying that they got married when he was around two hundred or so… which means he’s about twenty-one hundred years old.”

“Holy shit,” Mammon mutters in disbelief, turning glance at the sorcerer as he starts folding down the corners of his charm into the right shape. “Humans aren’t supposed to live that long. How’s his husband still alive, then?”

“That isn’t really a question for me to answer,” Simeon shakes his head slightly. “I suppose you can always ask him yourself if Solomon ever brings him to work with him.”

“I doubt it,” Solomon speaks up for the first time since announcing his departure. “He’s usually busy during the day. Besides, transportation charms make him queasy, and I’m not making him walk all the way down here.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Mammon asks, scratching his head. “Just do one of ya fancy teleportation spells. Why d’you need a charm?”

Solomon sighs. He hates to admit it, but he can’t be bothered to make up some other reason to cover up for himself. “I’m afraid that teleportation spells aren’t actually particularly accurate. We could end up somewhere in the Pacific if I’m not careful.”

Mammon looks thunderstruck. “Then what about all those times you’ve teleported us?! Don’t tell me we coulda ended up in, like, the Archaic Pit or something?!”

“Well, it was always a possibility,” Solomon shrugs in reply, finishing the charm with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re a demon, I sure you could have handled yourself.”

“But…!” Mammon crosses his arms and turns away like a grumpy child. “Hmph…”

“Do say hello to [Name] for me, will you?” Simeon requests as Solomon turns to open the door, ignoring the sulking demon sitting beside him. “We haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“You text him every day, don’t you?” Solomon asks, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I’d say that’s conversation enough.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be stingy,” Simeon countered with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning forward. “Besides, one misses the presence of an actual person after a while of nothing but electronic communication... especially texting is so difficult. Tell him he’s always welcome to come around for some tea - Luke would be happy to see him.”

Solomon shakes his head, but makes a sound of affirmation nevertheless. You had mentioned that you’ve missed seeing Simeon since he’d started the whole negotiator businesss, and he isn’t the sort of person to deny you the company of a friend. “I’ll let him know. Anyway, I should really be going now…”

“Have a safe journey!” Simeon calls after him as he swings the door open and sweeps out. Solomon waves a hand over his shoulder in response, then disappears down the corridor, most likely to a quiet spot in the courtyard to use his charm. He’s been banned from using them indoors ever since he accidentally shattered one of the fancy artifacts in the assembly hall and sent hundreds of shards flying everywhere. Apparently Barbatos is still finding tiny pieces of glass in the crevices of the floor.

“Why didn’t Solomon ever say anythin’?” Mammon asks Simeon after a moment of quietude. “Seems like the sorta thing you’d mention.”

“Solomon’s a private man,” Simeon says with a shrug. “Besides, he and [Name] have made plenty of enemies over the years, and you’d be shocked by how quickly names and locations can spread…”

“Does he mind us knowin’ about it, then?”

“Well, personally, I’ve known for a while,” Simeon answers, “And I’m sure the others will have worked it out by now - Solomon’s always finding ways to mention [Name] in passing. But no, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.”

Mammon nods and goes silent for a little while. Then he asks, “What’s this [Name] like, then? Must be some guy if Solomon liked him enough to put a ring on him and keep him for that long.”

“Well, let’s see…” Simeon drums his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “He has quite the penchant for raising deadly plants, he hasn’t gone more than a full month without exploding something or another for about five centuries, he takes clocks apart in his spare time, he likes his coffee with a touch of vanilla, he collects cursed books, he makes a lovely butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and he works as a curse breaker for hire.”

It takes a moment for Mammon to process all of the information that’s just been dumped on him. “...sounds like the kinda guy Satan would get along with.”

“I thought so as well,” Simeon agrees. “Their house even reminds me of Satan’s room, in a way… [Name] is quite the avid reader.”

“What, you’ve been?”

“Only once,” Simeon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment as he reminisces. “Quite a long time ago now. I wouldn’t know where to find it even if I wanted to go again, though - it’s always moving.”

“Do they move house a lot, then?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. They’ve lived in the same house for centuries - it’s the house that moves itself.”

Mammon pauses. “...what?”

“The building,” Simeon clarifies. “They’ve got an enchantment on the whole thing that makes it change locations every couple of weeks or so.”

“But… why?”

Simeon shrugs. “[Name] doesn’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Still, isn’t that a bit much…?” Mammon pulls a face. “They could always just travel, ya know…”

“As Solomon said, transportation talismans make [Name] feel queasy,” Simeon explains. “And he prefers not to use teleportation spells when it comes to him, just in case they end up somewhere dangerous.”

“And he doesn’t care about the rest of us ending up somewhere dangerous?” Mammon huffs and collapses forwards onto the table.

“Well, you can’t really compare the two,” Simeon says patiently as the demon continues to mutter indignantly under his breath. “He’s his husband, and we’re essentially just his friends from work.”

Mammon opens his mouth to make a rebuttal, then thinks about it for a moment and changes his mind. After a moment, he comments, a little less resentfully, “Well, you’d think he’d at least introduce us.”

“He’s been planning to for a while, actually,” Simeon tells him. “Give him some time and he’ll probably bring it up on his own.”

Mammon nods. “He’d better!”

“I’m home.”

You look up from the book you’re reading and hop down from your seat on the roof just in time to see Solomon emerge from the back garden, looking noticeably dishevelled, with leaves decorating his head like some sort of fancy accessory.

“Welcome back!” You greet him happily, setting the book aside and moving forward to start picking the leaves from his hair. Solomon smiles softly at you as you take his bag in one hand and start pulling him to the front door with the other. “You forgot your talisman again, by the way.”

“I noticed,” He laughs, gently removing your hand from his upper arm and wrapping his fingers around it instead. “Why else do you think I ended up in the hedges again?”

“It’s a wonder that you’ve had to make these temporary talismans so many times and you still haven’t gotten one right yet,” You tease in reply, nudging him in the shoulder. “How many points is that on the tally now, then?”

“Ten for the basement, seven for the roof, and eleven for the hedges now,” He answers with a small pout as you laugh. “Honestly, you’d think I would have learnt my lesson...”

“You never do, love.”

The door creaks as you and your husband enter the house, only to immediately be greeted by a bundle of scales hitting you head-on. You manage to keep your footing and steady yourself on the doorway; Solomon isn’t so lucky, and ends up laying spread-eagled on the floor with about two hundred kilograms of excited adolescent dragon purring on his chest.

“Looks like Triton missed you,” You comment with a bright smile, setting Solomon’s bag down beside the umbrella rack and leaning over to give the dragon a scratch behind his left horn, just the way he likes it. He rumbles happily and jingles the little bell around his neck at you. “Isn’t he getting big?”

“I saw him this morning, [Name],” Solomon wheezes from his position on the floor, somehow managing to reach up and tickle Triton’s chin with one hand despite the dragon’s weight. “He can’t have grown that much in ten hours.”

“You never know!” You tell him, reaching up and wrapping your arms around Triton’s neck. He coos in a delighted fashion and raises his head, setting it heavily on your shoulder. Solomon uses the brief lightening of the weight on him to take in a deep breath as you allow your dragon to nuzzle furiously into your neck. “Dragons are unpredictable, you know.”

“Believe me, I do,” He sighs tiredly as Triton blows out a pleased puff of hot air and knocks the clock off the wall again. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Triton, I’d quite like to get back up again.”

The dragon blinks and raises his head from your shoulder, glancing down at the sorcerer that he’s crushing under his weight. Then he huffs and turns away again.

“Oh, you—!” Solomon curses as the dragon seems to press even harder into him. Your laughter rings out across the hall, and while he’d normally take a moment to admire the sound, he’s a little preoccupied. “[Name], stop laughing and help me!”

“He’s like a rebellious teenager!” You splutter helplessly in reply, voice still trembling slightly out of mirth. Triton makes a happy noise as you reach up and rub his scaly cheeks, his ears fluttering slightly. “Awww, you’re really growing up, aren’t you, baby? Your poor dads are really going to have their work cut out for them, huh?”

“Hey,” Solomon calls reproachfully from beneath Triton’s enormous chest. “Your husband’s still being crushed down here.”

“Oh, right!” You click your tongue and give Triton a meaningful look. He grumbles but obeys nevertheless, hopping off of Solomon (though not without knocking all the air out of him by using his chest as a launchpad) and scampering off, most likely to go play with the salamanders that have set up shop in the storage room again.

“I’ll never understand how you manage him so well,” Solomon sighs as you bend down to pull him to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “He never listens to me.”

“Aw, he loves you, really,” You reassure him, taking his hand and pressing a comforting kiss to his knuckles. “He just likes roughhousing with you.”

Solomon shakes his head, wanting to complain further about the big lizard that the two of you had adopted six months ago after the last one grew up and flew the nest, but then he sees the smile on your face, and he feels the flicker of irritation in his chest die down almost immediately. It’s at times like this that he’s really reminded of how absolutely worth it all of the nonsense he has to put up with at work is - because, at the end of the day, you are here, with your warm eyes and your lovely smile, with your comforting hands and your warm embrace, and there is no road too long to walk if you are waiting for him at the end of it.

“I know,” He sighs, tugging off his shoes and stepping into his favourite pair of slippers - the ones with the little cat faces printed on them that you’ve charmed to always maintain a perfect temperature for his feet. He glances at your own feet and notes that you’re wearing your matching pair as well.

The two of you have long since set up a routine for this sort of occasion, and you both fall into it with unconscious ease. Solomon changes into something more comfortable while you put the kettle on in the kitchen, and the two of you inevitably spend so long snuggled up together on the largest armchair in the living room, unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s presence, that the water cools down, and you end up having to put it back on again. Then you sit together at the table, you with a coffee with a dash of vanilla and him with his favourite chrysanthemum tea that you always brew just the way he likes it. Sometimes you’ll sit side by side, shoulders pressed up against each other as you show him the specifics of your latest curse-breaking commission, and sometimes you’ll sit across from each other, holding hands across the tabletop as he tells you about his day.

Today it is the former, but Solomon can’t help but zone a little out of the detailed deep-dive you’re giving him about the intricacies of the spell that’s cursed this teapot to shoot its contents at anyone who attempts to fill it. It isn’t that your explanation is boring - quite the contrary, in fact; Solomon could probably listen to you describing the most mundane or trivial of things on loop for the rest of his life and be perfectly content with it. No, it’s more to do with the fact that this is the first time he’s been home before dark in a long while, and he can’t help but revel in the fact that he can spend time with you like this again. Of course, there’s something wonderful in coming home to be able to collapse into bed beside you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, drifting to sleep as you burrow closer to him even in your sleep, but Solomon can’t run off of that forever - he needs to see you with your eyes open as well, after all.

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?” You ask as you note the far-off look on your husband’s face. You’re not offended in the slightest by the way he starts at the directed question, evidently guilty, but you are a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

Solomon’s mouth falls open slightly, then shuts again. There’s something about the way you’re looking at him so earnestly that makes his heart stutter like nothing else. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to this after nearly two thousand years, but it seems that he’s still as weak for you as he was on the very first day of your marriage. “...I suppose I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind,” You counter softly, giving his hand a brief squeeze. “Come on, you can tell me.”

He laughs quietly, bringing your linked hands up to his face and gently holding yours to the side of his face; you, in turn, unfurl your fingers from around his and rub his cheek affectionately. After a moment, a fond smile pulling at his lips, Solomon replies, “I’ve… missed you a lot this week.”

You pause in mild surprise, but it quickly turns to endearment as Solomon presses his body even closer to yours. The hand that you’re using to hold your mug of coffee moves to settle on his shoulder as you pull him closer. “Really now? What a coincidence. I’ve missed you lots as well, love.”

He chuckles a little bashfully, his cheeks flushing. It seems that your ability to fluster him hasn’t declined even a bit over the years. He’s still well and truly besotted.

You can’t help but find it rather amusing that, despite already having spent a good hour and a half or so in the living room, bundled so close together in the blankets that you could feel his breath on your skin, the two of you are still nestling so close together now. You suppose it’s the effects of a week with much less contact than usual.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling back again, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. Solomon exhales softly, pulling his own drink towards him and draining the last of the tea in a single mouthful.

“You know,” He says, setting his empty cup down on the table. “One of my coworkers was asking about you earlier.”

“‘Coworkers’,” You snort at his choice of language, earning a reproachful poke in the side as punishment. “Come on, just admit that they’re your friends.”

“Fine,” He sighs. “One of my friends, then - Mammon, the one that Lucifer’s stringing up all the time.”

“The one with white hair?” You recall, thinking back to the group photo that Simeon had sent you a while back. “He’s the Avatar of Greed, right?”

“That’s the one,” Solomon nods. “Apparently he never noticed that I was married.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him,” You say, giving him a playful nudge. “Honestly, the way you keep your mouth shut, you’d think I was some shameful secret or something.”

Solomon looks scandalised by the very idea - it had only been a little joke, but his eyes flash with such affront that it’s almost as if someone has genuinely called you such a thing. “Of course not! I’d never—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was joking,” You cut him off before he can get more riled up. Solomon calms down quickly once you set a comforting hand on his knee, though he still looks a little indignant. “I know why you don’t like talking about us much, but really, it’s okay. They’re your friends, aren't they?”

He hesitates, then nods, releasing another deep sigh soon afterwards. “I suppose. There isn’t much I can really do about it at this point anyway… according to Simeon, most of them have somehow figured it out already.”

“They’re probably a lot smarter than you give them credit for, Sol,” You hum, reaching up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. “They’re demons, after all. They’ve lived even longer than us.”

“Believe me, they really aren’t.” Solomon shakes his head, a frown pinching at his brow at the very memory of the amount of things that his coworkers have done recently - some of the most notable being Diavolo setting an entire flock of geese free in the courtyard for an ‘experiment’, Levi quite literally throwing himself out of a window just to win a bet against Mammon about who could get down the stairs faster, Asmo causing a stampede in the main hall by dropping and shattering a bottle full of a powerful aphrodisiac potion that became even more powerful once released into the air, and Lucifer accidentally breaking one of Solomon’s favourite cauldrons when he’d transformed into his demon form and inadvertently smacked halfway across the room it with one of his upper wings.

“I’d really love to meet them some day,” You sigh, swirling the contents of your mug around. “They sound like fun.”

“Trust me, the trouble isn’t worth it—” Solomon attempts to reason with you, but he gives up laughably quickly as you pout at him in protest. “Oh, fine. But don’t blame me if you get sick because of the charm again.”

“We don’t have to use the charm,” You shake your head. “Just do a teleportation spell!”

“You know that that’s risky,” Solomon sighs, chucking you under the chin and leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You laugh as he draws back again, a pleased smile rising on his face at your reaction. “We could end up anywhere.”

“You’ve teleported them a bunch of times, though, haven’t you? And you haven’t ended up in Texas or the Sahara Desert any of those times!”

The resemblance to his earlier conversation with Mammon and Simeon is almost uncanny. “That’s different. I was still teleporting them within the Devildom, not across an entire realm barrier… and besides, I can afford the risk with them. You’re a different story.”

You pout again, shoulders dropping in defeat, though it doesn’t escape Solomon’s notice that his sentiment seems to have appeased you at least a little. “...guess we’ll just have to use a transportation talisman, huh…?”

“That’s your only option if you really want to visit, yes.”

You go quiet for a moment or two, nose wrinkling and face scrunching as you think it over. Solomon doesn’t mind the lack of conversation - he entertains himself by studying your features, wondering for perhaps the millionth time how he managed to find someone like you.

Finally, a determined look rising on your face, you nod and proclaim, “Then I’ll do it!”

Solomon cocks his head slightly to the side. He can’t say he’s surprised by your eagerness, but he had expected it to take you longer to make up your mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but tou answer his question before he’s even asked it, a skill that you’d managed to pick up within the first year or so of knowing him.

“I really wanna see what you actually get up to when you work,” You explain, looking a little sheepish. “You’ve had a job there for nearly two years and I’ve never even said a word to the people you work with.”

Solomon laughs. “It isn’t usually a requirement in the workplace. Wear appropriate uniform, bring any equipment you need, introduce your husband to your coworkers within the decade…”

“Still, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least meet them,” You say. “Besides, I want to see Simeon as well. You said he’s working down in the Devildom for a bit as well, didn’t you?”

“Why are you so eager to see him, huh?” Solomon’s tone is light and teasing, so you know not to take him seriously as he puts on an hurt expression. “I’m offended. Your dear husband’s right here and you’re thinking about some angel.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” You shake your head in slightly exasperated amusement as he runs a finger down his cheek in lieu of a tear. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulls an exaggeratedly petulant face and pretends to turn away like an upset child. “Sometimes I feel like you love him more than me.”

“Simeon’s a lovely guy, but you’re still the only guy for me, you doof,” You tell him, tapping fondly at the cheek he’s turned to you with your free hand. Solomon obligingly turns back around to look at you, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Why would I marry you and then stay here for two thousand years if you weren't?”

“I guess I always assumed it was out of pity or something,” He jokes in response, leaning forward and briefly brushing his nose against yours. “And, just so you know, you’re the only guy for me as well.”

“I’d better be,” is your lighthearted reply as he pulls away. After a moment, looking at him expectantly, you begin tentatively, “So…?”

He sighs, but gives you a smile nevertheless. “I’ll ask Diavolo. He probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you without asking first, but Lucifer definitely would.”

“What’ll we do if they hate me?” You ask. “Do demons actually eat humans?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” He replies firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they won’t hate you. I doubt anyone could.”

You laugh and drop your head to rest on his chest. “You’re too nice to me, love.”

Solomon turns to wrap both his arms around your shoulders, setting his chin on the crown of your head. You smile into his jumper, looping your own arms around his waist and pushing yourself closer to him.

“I’m not just being nice. Honestly, [Name], you’re kind of the most perfect man in the universe.”

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #swd solomon #swd mammon #swd simeon #solomon x reader #reader insert #male reader #fluff #domestic sorcerer husbands #planning on turning this into a series if i can haha

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brandyllyn · 3 years

Note

My I request # 90 from the fandom list for Santiago Garcia?

This one was fun. I struggled though on how to turn it (I have two unexpected virgin requests and want them to be different). Here ya go, hope you enjoy.

Santiago Garcia x gn!reader (i think) Words: 400ish Rating: Teen. I think I used a 'fuck' in there.

Santiago jaw dropped. "Wait, really, never?"

"No."

"Not even once?"

You rolled your eyes and he quickly backtracked, "Sorry I’m just… you’ve never been with a guy?"

"Is this going to be a problem for you?"

"No, no," he was quick to reassure you. "I’m flattered."

"This was a bad idea."

He reached out and grabbed your wrist, not that you had actually gone anywhere. You’d have to get your shirt first, it was thrown… somewhere. "Sorry, it’s just… I don’t know if I’ve ever been with a virgin."

Your eyes went wide and suddenly you were laughing. At him. Laughing at him. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world. "Ah," he grunted, "I see, you were fucking with me."

"No," the word was strangled out around your chuckles. It was your turn to reach for him. "It’s just. Jesus I’m not a virgin. Stop patting yourself on the back."

Santi’s eyebrows drew together. "But you said-"

"I’ve never been with a guy," you finished for him.

"Oh. Oh." Santiago considered himself to be a 21st century man but that had genuinely not occurred to him. "You’ve been with girls?"

"Probably more than you have."

Santiago couldn’t stop the scoff he made, "I doubt that." Then he paused, that… that probably wasn’t something to be bragging about right this moment. But then again, you had started it.

He leaned towards you, pressing his hands by your sides as you leaned back on his couch. "So would it be fair to say you’re a penis virgin?"

You shut your eyes, biting your lip. "That is definitely a way of putting it, yes."

"Then I’m honored to be your first."

"You’re being weird about this," you pointed out.

"I’m just flattered." He leaned down and sucked softly on your neck. "I mean, if I do this wrong you may never want a penis again. It’s a lot of pressure."

"Ok," you shoved at his chest, "get off me. We’re done."

He chuckled and lifted his head, seeing the smile on your face. "But I haven’t even shown you how we do things. I have this great positions called 'missionary' you might like."

"You’re insufferable."

"And yet I’m your chosen one."

"Stop being weird."

"Make me."

Inverted Tropes Masterlist

#brandy's trope a thon #santiago pope garcia

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years

Text

Diary found in K---D--- : Part 2

So, here's the next little part of this :D

Imagine by @lathalea is indented!

Enjoy <3

Taglist: @shrimpsthings, @mulasawala (so you see where I'm going with this lol)

(Yes, there will be MORE artwork coming, stay posted...)

Fandom: Hobbit

Characters: Ori x OC

Rating & Warning: Fluff and silliness

His name was Ori and he was a scribe in Erebor. It turned out he visited the forest often to sketch the animals and plants. You spent the rest of the day together. In the evening, you exchanged campfire stories, sharing a meal. At one point, he shyly asked about where you came from. Blushing, he admitted, almost whispering, he never saw a person with such beautiful hair before.

You told him that you came from another world, from a region called East Asia, where many people looked similarly to you. He was very curious about your homeland, your culture and your world. You spent hours telling him everything about it and he listened to you in awe.

“Ori.” He replied, his lips quirking a tiny bit as if he was not used to speaking his own name. “I’m a scribe. In Erebor. The Mountain.” He pointed to a tree beyond the clearing.

Thankfully, I was familiar with the Lonely Mountain and did not think that he didn’t know the difference between a living organism and a pile of minerals.

“I have never seen you, neither here nor in that Mountain.” I replied, for I went into the halls sometimes to translate for travellers, but for the most part, I let the king be his grumpy, glorious self.

“I come here often, to sketch, but I seem to have lost my way.” He admitted with a tiny frown. Ah, a real dwarf. They only knew up and down seemingly and if there was no way into a hill, they’d stubbornly trek up until they tumbled off the other side again.

As if to prove to me that he was not lying – dear reader, he had a face that was utterly devoid of malice or dissimulation – he showed me rather good sketches of the fauna and flora of the dense forest surrounding us. “That is really good, Ori, the scribe, from under the Mountain.” I commented which made him blush with a fierce and, apparently, unexpected pleasure.

In an expression of indescribable cuteness, he literally wiped his face with his sleeve as if he could clean away the rosy hue like a stubborn ink stain from under his skin.

“What are you here for?” He then asked, pushing out his chest heroically. As a reminder, he was the one who had lost his way, but apparently, he wanted to defend either the forest from me or the other way around.

“I am here to think…in silence.” I replied; he retreated a few steps. “Oh? I’ll leave you to it then, I guess. It was great to make your acquaintance…”

I gave him my name, after all, he had given me his, and he chewed on it for a few moments before his face split into a smile that was like the sunlight breaking through the cloudy afternoon sky: tentative, warm, and strikingly beautiful.

“Stay. I like your face.” I heard myself saying. Maybe, it was my teasing, mischievous streak acting up, but I had liked his embarrassment so much that I couldn’t help wanting to coax more of these blushes out of him.

“My…face?” In that weird dance he had been engaged in for the last few minutes, Ori stepped closer again, shuffling his feet in the heavy boots dwarrows insisted on wearing.

No, your ass, I thought, but bit my tongue; Ori the dwarf looked like someone who would die on the spot if I said anything even remotely inappropriate…as I was wont to do when nervous.

My sarcastic thought spurred my own interest though and I examined him a little closer: he was indeed swaddled like a babe, beads of sweat pearling down his temples on account of the steep climb and the stubborn blush powdering his nose and cheeks with pink blotches.

“Sit down, you’ll get a heat stroke.” I invited him and pointed to a patch of moss beside me while rummaging in my pack for the flask of ale I had brought.

“Thank you ever so much.” He plopped down in a cascade of earthen-coloured wool and awkward limbs. He did smell warm, I noticed, a blend of cinnamon and comfort.

Also, he had one of those faces that only became better when seen up-close, I admit freely; there were golden stars dancing in the depth of his dark eyes and he had the most adorable freckles as if some outlandish fairy had sprinkled gold dust over that heart-wrenchingly handsome face.

“Are you thirsty, Mistress?” He asked, nodding at the flask in my hand.

Handing it to him rather abruptly, I realised that I had spent the last moments intently staring at his face as if I had never seen a male dwarf before in my life.

“I have work to do.” I snapped, feeling immediately guilty for taking my own embarrassment out on him, but he merely nodded and pulled his sketching supplies into his lap.

Strangely enough, Ori did not disturb me. If anything, the silence felt fuller, richer, deeper with him by my side. As I translated a letter, as a spinster I had to support my family and my insufferable sisters as best as I could, I felt like the chirping of the birds and the vibrancy of the colours around me were even more enjoyable now that I shared them with someone else.

…

The sun crept along its never-changing arc slowly and yet, much too fast.

As I looked up, I wished I was a better painter myself, for this dwarrow was made for sunsets.

The way the last golden hurrah of a perfect day exploded in a halo of warmth around his figure, the way all the greys and the blues seemed to bleed out of the world to leave nothing but warm tones behind, and the way his smile was the perfect expression of this mellow, unhurried mood…it struck me deeper and more violently than a thunderstorm in all its booming rage would have.

“Will you join me for dinner, Ori?” I asked gently, “I shall escort you back down.”

“It would be my honour.” He nodded, tearing out a page of his notebook and handing it over.

“It was an invitation; I do not demand payment.” I said seriously, for the sketch of the doe was so good, it might have been worth actual money. “Oh…” His nose crinkled at little at that.

“I wanted you to…have something beautiful. I have seen you work very hard.”

Of course, he was a scribe as well, he would consider the scribbling work, I thought and gave him a thankful smile. “You’re beauty enough for one day.” I shrugged.

He gasped, bringing his notebook up to his face as if to shield himself from my words.

“You’re having me on, aren’t you? Dori has warned me that girls do that sometimes.” He sounded utterly dejected. “I am not having you on. Has nobody ever told you that you’re handsome?” It was my turn to be wide-eyed with shock.

“And who is Dori?” I followed-up when he didn’t really reply to my question even though I thought I had seen his braids move like strings of pearls in a draft. The minutest of shakes of the head, a quiet admission of inadequacy that sunk ugly, ragged claws into my soft heart.

“He’s my brother. I have two of them. Dori…and Nori. They’re…” – “Older than you.” I completed. “Protective.” He supplied.

He was still holding his drawing out to me, and, after a moment, I took it gingerly and put it between the pages of my own writing supplies. I would hang it in my room and look at it daily.

Nowadays, there were but very few gifts for me; all the money went to my two younger sisters who were still nubile and would, if Mahal willed it so, be able to make a good match.

Busying my hands with making a fire, I asked him to tell me about his brothers.

“Oh, Nori is…agile. He’s…funny and brave and resourceful.” Ori started, his voice warm with affection and admiration. He sounded like a proper rogue to me, and as it turned out, he was, but he also deserved every single ounce of the deep-felt care Ori held for him.

“Dori is…fussy. He’s polite, he’s very caring, and he’s exceedingly proper.” Ori went on as I waved a hand for him not to stop. I enjoyed hearing about the life of other families than my own.

“So, is he the one who raised you to be this…warmly clad and gentle?” I asked, turning to place the foodstuffs I had brought up and stored in the cool lake water on spits to roast over the fire.

“Warm? Oh yes…I was a sickly pebble and he’s been worried ever since. I hope I have behaved in a way that would not make him disappointed in me.” Again, he worried his lip.

“Let’s see, you’ve startled a bird and an unsuspecting dwarrowdam.” I listed with a wicked gleam in my eyes; his face fell, and he looked properly guilty.

“Then, you’ve kept me company, and the best company I’ve ever had, it has been, on my grandmother’s grave, I swear.” I went on and that treacherous blush was back with a vengeance.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He then said in a low voice. “Great beauty is always startling.”

“I am hardly Thorin Oakenshield.” He laughed. Readers, you cannot imagine that sound just by reading my words. If flowers blossoming had melody, if the sun setting on the eternal sea had a song, if autumn leaves dancing on a gale had a tune, they would have sounded like nails on scree, like cats having their tails trampled, and like kettles going unheeded compared to Ori’s laughter.

“There’s beauty in the doe as much as in the wolf.” I replied gently.

“May I…can I ask where you’re from? I don’t seek to be rude, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you; your hair looks like those fabrics the Elves weave. It…seems so soft, so liquid, so smooth.” He blushed a darker shade yet.

This might well have been the first time that someone had asked me about my origins without making it sound like an accusation; there was honest fascination in his demeanour.

“My family and I have come from the Far East. I have travelled a lot, Ori, I have seen landscapes entirely made up of rock and sand, I have walked forests so stiflingly hot and moist it felt like being underwater, and now, I am here in the land of tall trees and taller mountains.”

I said, surprised by my own frankness.

“That sounds amazing.” He took the food I offered readily enough, and I told him about the people I’ve left behind to be stranded at the other end of the world.

“This is good, is that a recipe of your homeland?” He asked, looking down on the piece of meat I had seasoned with herbs I had grown myself in our small backyard.

“It actually is. I’m glad you like it. I had not planned to have company, otherwise I’d have brought something more palatable to the local tongue.” I apologised quickly.

“No, I like it. You should definitely trade some recipes with Dori…and Bombur…oh, and if any of your delicious herbs are medicinal, Óin.” He laughed again when he saw my dumbfounded expression.

“I make a good honeycake, if I can interest you in that? Maybe…” He fell back into silence.

…

A look at the sky told me that it was too late to go down in the inky darkness.

“We’ll have to stay here for the night.” I mumbled, slightly uncomfortable at the idea of spending the night with a dwarrow who had not lost a single word about a wife.

“Are you married, Mistress? Will that endanger your wedlock?” He asked shyly.

“No, I am not and I have no name to lose…It’s a long story.” I didn’t feel like blurting out my disgrace, lest it give him strange ideas after all, especially as he would easily have been able to overpower me if he so chose.

“Neither am I. I don’t know about my name…Doesn’t look like I’m going to be married either. There’s not enough dwarrowdams as it is, and I think the royal line has a prerogative there.” There was no resentment in his tone; he seemed to accept this as a fact.

How could someone that sweet not be married, I wondered. He was courteous, he was cute, and he would have made the fortune and happiness of someone.

“Well, in that case, I think we can risk our reputation rather than our necks.” I grinned, rolling out a blanket I kept tied to my pack for emergencies and stretched out next to the fire on the moss.

“Erm, yes…Good night…” He mumbled, fidgeting around with his different layers of clothing. Apparently, he was deciding which one he needed least on his body to use it as a bedroll or blanket.

I eyed the proceedings with interest and a good deal of amusement.

“I can offer you my cloak to lie upon…the ground will grow very cold and wet soon.” He said in a low voice, not sure if I had already fallen asleep or not.

“Alright, I can offer you a spot under the blanket then?” I extended my own graciousness.

“With you?” No, with the red bird, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

“Yes, Ori the scribe, with me. I will not eat you, as you have witnessed, I have had dinner.” Not that he did not look good enough to devour, standing there with his cloak in his hands and his face all crunched up in embarrassment.

“Hmmm…I guess.” He muttered doubtfully, spreading out the cloak and sitting down on it carefully. Impatiently, I scooted over and spread my lousy blanket over the both of us with a flourish.

“Sleep!” I commanded as I turned around only to find him staring wide-eyed at the spot where the back of my head had been only a second ago. Now that he was presented with my face, only inches away from his, his eyes grew even rounder and bigger in wordless distress.

“Friend…Have you never lain with a woman? And I literally mean, lying next to one?” I laughed for there had been friends and cousins aplenty in my own life and the feeling of having another body so close to mine was not a new experience for me.

“Well, I fell down on the battlefield once, next to a foe…I’m pretty sure that was a Lady-Orc. She was dead. There was a…” He gestured, indicating a spear or a lance sticking out of his chest and brushing against my own with the back of his hand. Dear reader, he flinched back as if I was a tiny Durin’s bane wreathed in flames.

“A Lady-Orc, indeed…” I mused; no doubt, he could hear the smile I hid in my voice for his face crunched up in embarrassment.

“I am sorry.” He sighed, rolling his eyes, and thinking – there was not a shadow of a doubt about that much – of his brothers who would have mocked him mercilessly for his stammering.

“There’s no need to be sorry” I tried to reassure him, but I admit now that there were things that I did not tell him right away then. We had only just met, and he was blessedly unaware of my shameful past.

How could I have made him understand – without hurting his feelings – how much I enjoyed that air of purity about him that I had squandered myself on an undeserving fiend? As a daughter amongst others, I had been used to dwarrows coming to court or to seduce, their eyes ablaze with greed and their hands wandering.

He would not have comprehended how much the absence of that voracious hunger that had plagued my youth and had ended up destroying my promising future meant to me.

“Sleep.” I repeated, unable to put into words how miraculous and precious the things he seemed to be most ashamed of were to me.

“Good night, Mistress.” He breathed with a soft smile that was nowhere near the wolfish baring of fangs I was used to and so, it was easy to return it.

You who may or may not have stumbled upon this ludicrous account of the most important story in an otherwise unimportant life, you shall hear another confession I did not make at the time.

I was fiercely aware that – had I but leant forward a little – I might have pressed my lips upon his; I was young still at that time and, despite what had happened, parts of me, that should have withered and died in the aftermath of my botched engagement, were much alive.

He smelled like our dinner and warmth, and the gentle reticence of the curve of his smile was more inviting than any flashing grin I had ever seen before.

Yes, in that very moment, on this very first evening, I had already been conscious of the shrewd attraction this self-effacing dwarrow held for me…and it scared me half to death.

…

Part 3

#Fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ori the dwarf #Ori #OC #Fluff #Diary #1st person

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order-of-river-phoenix · 3 years

Note

Im dying for some nixon! Could you do one about nix and the reader post war married, she finds out shes pregnant after discussing symptoms with her friend and has to find out how to tell him? Nix as a dad is just adorable 😍

Breaking The News; Lewis Nixon

Fandom: HBO War; Band of Brothers

A/N: this took me waaay too long but I hope you still like it 🥺 thank you so much for the request. School has been stressing me out and work has been wearing me out, but I squeezed in some writing. Hopefully w winter break coming I’ll feel up to writing more.

Notice: female reader

Taglist: @liebegott @stressedinadress @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @teenmagazines @hbohmygodx @meteora-fc @punkgeekchic @vintagelavenderskies @hoosiers-hoe @mavysnavy @inglourious-imagines @warrior-healer @alienoresimagines @hannahbear1 @easy-company-tradition @wexhappyxfew Please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed/you’ve changed your user (or feel free to do so yourself via the link in my description)

__________

"Oh, honey," your friend giggled. "So is this your way of telling me you're expecting?"

"Expecting what? I'm genuinely concerned for my health!"

She shook her head, patting your hand. "Don't tell me you didn't suspect a pregnancy. You have all the classic symptoms: morning sickness, missing... you know what. I can't believe you hadn't pieced it together yourself by now."

You sat back in your chair, taking in the information. You were stunned to say the least. "What'll I tell Lewis?"

"Don’t worry about it. He'll be happy."

"Oh, are you sure? What if he's not ready?" Your anxiety was making your stomach turn.

"He can get over it," she rolled her eyes. "Clearly, one of you had to have realized it was a possibility at this point. You've been married how long now?"

"Nearly 6 months."

"Exactly." She sipped her lemonade like that had explained it all.

“Exactly what?”

She gave you a pointed look. “Do I need to explain how babies are made?”

__________

You paced around the house, words filling your head but none of them feeling right. You had to tell your husband in a good way. It couldn’t be super sudden, but you also didn’t want to beat around the bush. Before you knew it, the sun had set, meaning Lewis would be home soon.

“I’m home!” he announced, knowing fully that you could hear the door open and close from just about anywhere in the small house.

“In the kitchen!” you called back, never looking away from the recipe you were following. It was a more complex version of some comfort food Lewis had mentioned before. You hoped good food might make your announcement a little easier.

Upon finding you, a contagious smile broke out across his face, and he hugged you from behind, as to not keep you from what you were doing. “Hi. I missed you.”

His breath warmed your shoulder, and you smiled to yourself at his tenderness. “I missed you too. How was work?”

“Work was work,” he groaned. “Boring could describe it, but that’s still too generous.”

You shook your head, amused by his dramatic comment. “That bad, huh?”

He shrugged before letting go of you and leaning against the counter. “I guess not, but anything without you is insufferable.”

“Maybe I should work at the plant then.”

“You were supposed to suggest I quit,” he sighed. “Forcing me to respond with why I can’t and why that would be bad for our futures and for our children.”

You tried not to react too much to his last words. “Children?”

“Well, yeah. I assume we might have a couple.” He looked at you earnestly. “If you wanted to. Do you not want kids?”

“I think I do,” you quickly cleared up. “I just wasn’t sure where you stood.”

“I stand wherever you are.”

“How absolutely-“

“Romantic?”

“Cheesy is the word I was going to use.”

Dinner came and went—successfully, you might add, and you were still trying to find a way to tell him your news. You were kicking yourself for not saying anything when the topic was brought up. Now, you were both getting ready for bed.

As you brushed your teeth, he came in behind you to do the same. The comfortable routine normally set you at ease, but with the unintentional secret you were carrying, everything felt off. You ran through what to say again and again as you spit out the toothpaste and rinsed off the toothbrush.

You sat up in the bed, and he seemed to notice you didn’t look exactly ready to sleep.

“Something the matter?” He crawled in next to you. “Normally you’re halfway to dreamland by the time I get to bed.”

“Just thinking.” You slid down until your head was on your pillow.

He frowned a little and cocked an eyebrow. “Care to share?”

“Maybe.”

“Ah, okay then,” he yawned. Maybe you’ll feel like sharing tomorrow.” He pulled the covers up to his shoulders and closed his eyes. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight.” Just before he had completely drifted off, you kissed his temple and whispered a quiet confession. “I’m pregnant.”

He mumbled incoherently and stilled.

When you were sure he was asleep, you rested peacefully knowing you had told him. Whether he had heard you or not was an issue for the morning.

__________

You woke up slowly, but you quickly noticed that you weren’t alone in the bed. Fighting the urge to shut them again, your eyes opened to see Lewis sitting up. “What-“ you yawned as you raised yourself up. “What are you doing up?” You blearily checked the clock on your nightstand. “It’s not even 1 in the morning.”

“I had a strange dream, Y/N.” He seemed to be reminding himself what it was before he continued. “In my dream, I heard you say you were pregnant, but that’s it. That’s all I remember.”

This woke you up a little more, and you sat up next to him. “I am pregnant.”

“What?”

“Lewis, we’re going to have a baby.”

He stared at you, mouth agape for a small eternity before pulling you into him. “Oh my God. You’re pregnant? When d’you tell me? Did you tell me? Oh well, you must have.”

“I may have whispered it to you as you fell asleep,” you admitted. “But I couldn’t figure out a good way to tell you.”

“I can’t believe my brain retained that.”

You eased yourself away from him, seeing the huge grin he had. “I can’t believe it woke you up this early. Can we squeeze in a couple more hours b-“

“We need to prepare. What are naming him? Or her? Shit, what if we have a girl? I don’t know anything about raising girls.”

“Good thing I know a couple.”

“What kind of things do we need to buy? A crib, toys, diapers, clothes. Oh, and the doctor’s appointments! You’re going to need a good doctor. I mean, I think I remember the name of the one we went to for Michael.”

“Lew, honey? Hey,” you put your hand on his cheek to catch his attention. “Hey, there. Calm down. We can figure this out later. We’ve got plenty of time. Let’s sleep, okay?”

He shook his head in agreement and followed you back down to the pillows. “I can’t wait,” he whispered, kissing your nose and closing his eyes to go to sleep for the second time that night.

#mariah writes: band of brothers #band of brothers #hbo war #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x reader #bob imagines #hbo war imagines

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no6secretsanta · 4 years

Text

The Rain Brought You To Me Again

For moist_wet_juicy from @whims-of-insane-fandoms, enjoy!

Shion stared out the rainy window. The rain made a pleasant sound against the glass of the window. Shion tapped his table, absentmindedly tapping to the beat of a familiar song. He paused, catching himself remembering.

Remembering Nezumi.

It had been three years already since Nezumi left and the walls of No. 6 were broken. Three years since humanity began to destroy the rigid rules of No. 6 and the world began to become free.

Shion had become a bit of a celebrity during that time. Everyone wanted to hear his story. Shion hadn’t felt comfortable talking about it. He still hadn’t spoken about what had happened. He couldn’t talk about Elyurias, the darkness of No. 6, Safu or Nezumi.

His mother had understood. She had cried when she had seen him then. He remembered crying too. He must have been a sight to the other people. He’d been crying on his mother, holding a baby in his arms with a rat and a dog standing nearby.

He stayed in his old home with his mom in the bakery for a month before moving out. He found a nice little house that had been made where the wall used to be. He moved in with Nezumi’s rats and the baby Inukashi had named Shion.

He never told anyone that he moved all of Nezumi’s belongings into the house.

He hadn’t heard from the wandering Nezumi during all these years. Not even Inukashi had heard anything from their numerous new contacts. Nonetheless, he had never stopped hoping and waiting. All he did was not pause his life waiting like some protagonist in a romance novel.

Shion had gained a lot of hobbies and responsibilities in the three years since Nezumi left. First, he became one of the guardians of the baby Shion alongside his mother. Taking care of a baby was a big responsibility and he didn’t have time at first to do anything else. When his mother started babysitting baby Shion, Shion found he had more time in his hands.

Like the time he had now.

Shion looked to the plain canvas that was currently taunting him. He hadn’t painted anything recently, something that worried him a bit.

He had picked up painting four months after Nezumi left. His first attempts had Inukashi laughing while Rikigia had tried to compliment him over the laughter. He kept practicing enough that Inukashi actually started liking his art.

Painting had become an integral part of his life since the fall of No. 6. The fact that he hadn’t done anything recently worried him greatly. He was sure it had to do with the last painting he had done. He had hidden the painting away in the room he’d reserved for Nezumi, too conflicted and confused.

He had barely grabbed his paintbrush when the windows opened.

“Ah!” Shion cried out as he rushed to close it. He slammed it shut before the rain could flood his studio. He didn’t even have a chance to sigh in relief before he heard noises from the living room, leaving the studio.

His living room windows were similar to his childhood bedroom windows in No. 6, before he and his mother were forced to vacant. It had been one of the reasons why he had chosen this house. The windows had made him remember that day. Of course, it was a pain when the rainy season kicked in and it threatened to flood his house if he wasn’t cautious.

He almost tripped on his carpet as he closed his windows, panting harshly. He leaned his forehead on the glass, listening to the sound of the rain hitting glass. It was a soothing sound. He was half tempted to go outside and scream like he did seven years ago during his birthday, but he wasn’t twelve anymore.

He felt something cold in the back of his neck. He froze, immediately glad that his mother had taken the young Shion to her home. His mind raced, wondering how long it would take for him to get one of the kitchen knives.

“You haven’t changed at all. Still too vulnerable, Shion.”

Shion turned around so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash. Standing before him, holding a metal spoon that must have been what had been pressed against his neck, was none other than Nezumi.

Nezumi was giving him a familiar smile, the one Shion could not say he missed without tearing up. His long hair had been cut short, reaching up to the back of his neck. He was dressed in new clothes that were soaking wet because of the rain. The only familiar piece of clothing he had was the scarf.

“Nezumi.”

He wanted to say and ask so many things. He wanted to throw himself crying at Nezumi. He wanted to scream at his face over his long absence. He wanted to ask where he had been. He wanted to ask what took him so long.

Instead, Shion asked, “How long were you in the rain before the windows opened?”

“Not long, of course.” Nezumi answered, “Just enough to get this wet.”

“Then get out of those clothes.”

Nezumi smirked, “Well, well, you’ve become bolder in three years.”

Shion blushed, “Unless you want to get sick, you’ll go to the guest room and change into dry clothes. Besides, you’re ruining the carpet.”

“Are you giving your carpet priority over me?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

“You wound me. When did you become so cold?”

“The guest room is over there.”

Shion pointed at the room where Nezumi’s belongings were. Nezumi nodded and was heading there before stopping. He unslung a bag from his back and gave it to Shion. Shion held it and, before he could say anything, Nezumi went to get changed.

Shion looked at the heavy bag he held in his arms. He walked to his couch and sat down before he opened it. The first thing he saw was a beautiful white conch shell. He held it up, amazed at how beautiful it looked. It couldn’t be real! He set it to the side carefully before grabbing another item.

It was a bottle filled with white sand. Had Nezumi taken it from the same place as the conch shell? Shion pulled out the rest of the items, becoming more amazed as he continued. Nezumi had also brought a jar filled with beautiful rocks that shined with different colors, a strange feather from a creature he had never seen before, a strange figurine, a black rock, a leather-bound book and broken eggshells that had strange colorings.

“Like it?”

Shion looked up to see Nezumi had walked into the living room. He was dressed in some of his old clothes that were a couple of sizes too small for his arms. Shion blushed before looking away.

“Yes. Where did you get these?”

Nezumi sat down in the couch next to him, “I went to many places that not a lot of people have gone to since the creation of the six cities. I saw the ruins of old cities from before. I saw different things that everyone claimed had gone extinct. I got these things to show them to you.”

Shion smiled, “Thank you.”

“It was a bit harder to get some things than others. Your new conch took days to find.”

“Did it?”

Nezumi nodded before grinning, “I saw you took my things. Is that my room, then?”

Shion nodded, “I always knew you were coming back. I just didn’t know when.”

“Did I make you wait a long time, then?” Shion didn’t answer but he supposed that was enough of an answer. Nezumi grabbed his hand, and Shion knew it was his way of an apology.

They had been apart for three years but Shion felt like that time hadn’t made them drift apart. He still felt like he knew Nezumi as well as he knew himself. He squeezed Nezumi’s hand, feeling reassured that this wasn’t a cruel dream.

He didn’t want to wake up to see the blank canvas or the empty house where he could hear his own heartbeat. He didn’t want to imagine another day waiting for Nezumi if this was a dream. He leaned on Nezumi’s shoulder, hearing his heartbeat and knowing that he was real and alive.

Shion felt Nezumi reach out to touch his hair that was currently in a messy ponytail. Nezumi removed his elastic hair band, allowing Shion’s hair to fall. Nezumi observed the now shoulder-length hair and held it between his fingers.

“Why did you end up growing it out?”

Shion straightened himself, “At first, it was because I didn’t want to cut it. I never had the time or effort for it, even if my mom asked that I do it. Now, I like it. It kind of reminded me of your long hair and thought that it wasn’t a bad look.”

“Better hair story that mine.”

Shion reached out for Nezumi’s now short hair, “What happened with your hair? I don’t think you liked having your hair short.”

“I don’t. Someone cut it a couple of weeks ago after I got into a fight. They ended up losing a couple of fingers.”

Shion didn’t know whether to believe that or not. Instead, he smiled and brought Nezumi’s hand to his face, “You never seem to change, Nezumi.”

He kissed their joined fingers, an action that didn’t seem to surprise Nezumi.

“You do but it’s not enough for you to be someone else entirely. You’re still the Shion I met in that rainstorm and the Shion that foolishly and correctly believed in a third way.”

Shion pulled away from the kiss to stare at Nezumi. Nezumi smiled softly, an action that he’d hardly seen in him, “I gave you a goodbye kiss. Where’s my welcome back kiss?”

“You are insufferable.”

Shion still obliged, closing his eyes before pressing his lips against Nezumi’s. Nezumi pulled him closer, holding him so tightly as if he would disappear. As if it was Shion that had been gone for a long time.

This isn’t a dream.

Nezumi broke the kiss to lean his forehead against Shion’s, “I’m back, Shion.”

Shion laughed, “Welcome home, Nezumi.”

Shion didn’t remember exactly what happened next. He’d been talking to Nezumi about some of his paintings and about his charge in one moment and, the next, he was waking up on the floor on his carpet in Nezumi’s arms.

He moved carefully off Nezumi’s arms but the other boy had always been a light sleeper. Nezumi opened his eyes just as Shion headed to the kitchen to make him something to eat. He sat up, yawning softly.

“What would you like to eat?”

“Anything you cook that’s decent.”

Shion sighed, “Eggs and bread, then, because you want decent food.”

Nezumi yawned again, “Don’t go out making something crazy. I don’t have the taste buds for it this early in the morning.”

“Alright.”

Shion glanced at Nezumi to see he was looking at one of the paintings he had on the wall. It was one he had done last year after he had several recurring dreams about Safu and the last time he’d seen her alive. Safu was asleep in a field of blue roses while a crown of white roses adorned her hair. She was smiling softly, holding something hidden in her hands.

“Did you do this?”

“Yes.”

Nezumi moved away from the painting, “You got good at this. I didn’t even know you had this talent.”

“Trust me, I didn’t know I had it either.”

Nezumi walked towards him, “The painting in my room is your work, then?”

Shion almost dropped the egg he was holding. He caught it before turning to look at Nezumi, “You saw it?”

“Yeah. Why did you paint that?”

Shion didn’t know. He’d been dreaming a lot about that day the moment he’d placed his brush on the canvas. He’d drawn that moment like he was a madman, vividly remembering the horrific details he wished he’d forgotten.

Nezumi was on his knees with blood coming out of his arm and leg. He looked so sad, staring at something or someone. The background was a mix of red and gray with red splatters adorning the edges of the canvas.

“I thought if I did, it would stop haunting me. I . . . almost lost you then.”

“You also lost yourself then.”

“I suppose so.”

Shion supposed, then, that was the real reason why he had been unable to paint since he had done that work. He set the egg down on a bowl, holding onto the counter tightly. He’d been so confused over his own emotions after he had finished and had been unaware why he had felt that way. He was amazed at how quickly Nezumi had figured it out.

“At least you found yourself again, Shion.”

Shion nodded before he continued making breakfast. Nezumi began exploring the house, occasionally yelling at him what he thought about the décor. When Shion finished the eggs and toast, Nezumi had come back wearing one of Shion’s hats.

“Were you checking on my room too?”

“Yeah. Your sense of fashion hasn’t changed.”

“Says the pot to the kettle.”

Nezumi laughed, “At least you’re more prone to biting back.”

Shion chuckled, “Things have changed a bit in three years. I’m sure you haven’t properly looked around to see all the changes that have happened around here.”

“Nah. I was too busy figuring out where you were than what changed around here.”

Shion blushed, “I’m flattered, Nezumi.”

Nezumi looked away, “You were one of the only people I thought about in three years. I hardly thought about anything else.”

Shion couldn’t help thinking about how cute Nezumi had become. Had he always been like this? He gave Nezumi his breakfast before he began to eat. Nezumi muttered a simple thank you before he began to eat.

Shion ate in silence, thinking about how to tell the others that Nezumi was back. Rikigia would probably welcome him but not be too excited about it. Inukashi would pretend not to care but they would be pleased. His mother would like to hug Nezumi and feed him all day.

Shion looked outside and turned to Nezumi, “I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

Shion and Nezumi were walking down a path that Shion knew was unfamiliar to Nezumi. They were holding umbrellas, Nezumi lagging slightly behind. He stopped, seeing a large field of sunflowers. He turned to Shion, confused over what he was seeing.

“This field of flowers appeared seven days after the wall was destroyed. I think Elyurias did this. No one comes here because they get scared they might anger her.”

“Then why do you come here?”

“Safu.”

The flower began to emit a soft glow, shocking Nezumi. Shion chuckled as he walked a path to the middle of the field. He turned, “I always feel her here. It became the only place I could come to after everything.”

Nezumi walked forward, still staring at the flowers. He glanced up at the sky, “The rain’s not stopping yet you still came here. Do you always do this?”

“Yes.”

Nezumi sighed, his eyes showing his understanding. Shion was glad again to have Nezumi by his side. Nezumi seemed to understand him, even though things had been so different three years ago. He had someone who didn’t need to hear him say something to understand.

Shion kneeled down, uncovering the small stone he had put in honor of his dead friend. He smiled and got up in time to see Nezumi holding out a hand to him. Shion looked at Nezumi to see him smiling.

“Can I have this dance?”

Shion laughed, “You’re so ridiculous.”

Despite that, he still took Nezumi’s hand. Nezumi dropped his umbrella to hold Shion in a comfortable waltz stance while Shion had no choice but to do the same. The rain was cold, but he was comforted by the sound of Nezumi’s heartbeat. He leaned closer to Nezumi as they began to dance.

Shion had decided to learn how to dance in Nezumi’s absence. It had been a bit hard to do considering the only teacher he’d had was Rikigia. Inukashi had been forcefully volunteered into being Shion’s dance partner. Shion could still feel his toes being stepped on, like some form of phantom pain.

Nezumi was, by contrast, a master dancer. He twirled Shion and weaved them through the field without crushing the sunflowers. He tipped Shion slowly, grinning, “Who did you practice dancing with?”

“Inukashi, under Rikigia’s tutelage.”

Nezumi righted Shion, twirling him, “Not bad for a wild child like Inukashi. Maybe I should thank them for this.”

Shion moved his arm away from Nezumi’s shoulder. Nezumi didn’t say anything as Shion twirled him. They came back together, panting softly. Nezumi touched one of Shion’s cheeks, smiling softly with eyes filled with fondness.

“I’m glad I came back.”

Shion leaned onto the hand, closing his eyes “You kept your promise, after all.”

Something warm pressed itself onto his lips. Shion leaned closer to the kiss, forgetting about the rain and the world. He didn’t even notice how the sunflowers had begun to glow more brightly. He opened his eyes just as Nezumi pulled away.

“I don’t want to leave you alone. You might get into trouble. Or get lonely without me.”

“Trouble? I never got into trouble until I met you.” Shion laughed.

Nezumi moved away slightly from Shion, retrieving their fallen umbrellas. He looked at him with a cheeky grin and Shion sighed while grabbing his umbrella.

“I don’t want to hear whatever joke you’re planning on cracking.”

“You aren’t much fun, Shion.”

Shion sighed, “I don’t even know what the point is. We’re already soaking.”

“Then let’s go back home.”

Shion paused wondering if Nezumi had heard him say ‘home’. He didn’t ask. He started walking after Nezumi, grabbing his hand. Nezumi turned to look at him and smiled again, tightening his grip on Shion’s hand.

Three years waiting had hurt Shion. He’d been scared that he would start forgetting parts about Nezumi that he never wanted to. He was afraid that Nezumi would come back and not want him.

He was glad that his feelings had not changed. He and Nezumi had changed in some regards but not enough that they had grown apart. He was so happy that Nezumi was going to stay by his side. They were going to live together after so long apart. They’d get to see each other every day even if they drove themselves crazy. They’d do everything and nothing together.

Shion smiled, “I think we should stop by my mother’s place before that.”

He wasn’t risking his poor carpet for their wet clothes again.

moist_wet_juicy, I hope you enjoyed and spent your holidays surrounded by good cheer! My characterization of NezuShi may be too sappy but I wanted them to be cheesy. I hope you enjoyed this gift of mine. May 2020 bring you more joy! - whims

#moist wet juicy #moist_wet_juicy #whims-of-insane-fandoms #no6 #no.6 #no. 6 #no 6

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broomballkraken · 4 years

Link

Title: Shock and Awe, Chapter 1

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Pairing: Sylvain/Lorenz

Word count: 2391

Warnings: None

Summary: Sylvain runs into his insufferable rival Lorenz after not seeing him for a year. He is eager to battle him again after such a long time, but neither of them were prepared for what would transpire as they both sent out their first Pokemon...

“This is your fault, Sylvain.”

“My fault? How the hell is this my fault?”

“...When I think of how to word it properly, I’ll let you know.”

Sylvain shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he glowered at Lorenz, who stared back at him with an equally seething glare. Sylvain had not expected to run into his rival after not seeing him for a few years, especially this far north in Faerghus. They had crossed paths on the outskirts of Gautier, where Sylvain was just starting a journey back to Garrag Mach, where he and Lorenz had met five years ago.

All aspiring Pokemon trainers had to attend the Trainer’s Academy and graduate before they could choose a starter and begin their Gym Challenges. Sylvain had been pretty excited to finally get a Pokemon of his own, but he was even more excited to flirt with all of the beautiful girls at the academy. Unfortunately for him, Lorenz also had a bad flirting habit, and more often than not Sylvain spent more time arguing with Lorenz about who was better with the ladies than actually getting with any ladies. It had been an irritating time in his life.

Eventually, they had both graduated, with Sylvain choosing a Cyndaquil as a starter, while Lorenz picked a Snivy. They had gone their separate ways to complete their Gym Challenges, but they often ran into each other and engaged in heated battles. Sylvain won some and lost some, and he could never deny the fact that Lorenz made a damn good rival.

When their Gym Challenges came to an end, with both of them being defeated in the quarter finals of the Fódlan Championships, Sylvain had opted to focus on becoming strong enough to take over the Gautier Gym once his father retired. Lorenz left to do the same, as his father was the leader of the Gloucester Gym, and the two rivals had not seen each other since.

Sylvain did not anticipate reuniting with his rival ever again, let alone outside of his hometown, which was pretty far away from Lorenz’s own home. Lorenz apparently had been returning from Sreng after taking care of some business for his father, while Sylvain was on his way to Garrag Mach for the annual Gym Leader Summit. His father was also going, but Sylvain had left early so that he could take his time and do some training along the way, as well as pay a visit to his friend Dimitri, who had already taken up the mantle of gym leader in Fhirdiad after his father had unfortunately passed away a few years ago.

Sylvain almost didn’t recognize Lorenz when he first saw him. He had grown his hair out since their gym challenge days, which was a vast improvement to the disastrous bowl cut that he had sported back then. He was dressed in layers, more so than Sylvain due to the fact that he lived in a warmer climate. He looked like he was doing well for himself overall.

Lorenz had almost immediately asked for a battle, and Sylvain was eager to see how his rival had improved over the years. They had moved off of the road as to not disturb any travelers, into the thick foliage of the woods. Sylvain knew of a clearing next to a lake that would be perfect for battle, especially if Lorenz was planning on using water types.

When they both tossed their first poke balls, Sylvain was shocked at the sight. He had chosen his Toxtricity, Tox, who had just recently evolved and was proving to be an invaluable asset to his team. Lorenz had also sent out a Toxtricity, named Lavender, although his was the Low Key form, in contrast to Tox’s Amped. And that is where Sylvain’s current troubles began.

Tox took one look at Lavender and Sylvain could practically see the hearts form in his eyes as he bolted across the clearing. Tox stopped in front of Lavender and took her hands in his as he eagerly conversed with her, while she happily responded. Sylvain and Lorenz could only gawk at the scene, and their battle was over before it could even begin.

“Ugh...of all the Toxtricity in Fódlan, he had to fall for yours?” Sylvain grumbled, sighing as he sat down on a log.

“Please. My Lavender is an exceptional example of her species. She is much too good for anything trained by the likes of you.” Lorenz retorted, scoffing as he sat down on the other side of the log. Sylvain rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to Tox and Lavender, who were cuddled up together by the edge of the lake. Sylvain’s had let his other Pokemon out to relax until he figured out what to do about this situation, and Lorenz had done the same.

Sylvain was not surprised to see that Lorenz’s team was much different than the one that he had used during the Gym Challenge, because his own had changed a lot too. Sylvain’s Rapidash was currently racing Lorenz’s Galarian Rapidash around the lake, and they looked to be having a good time of it. Lorenz’s Milotic was resting in the lake, splashing water lazily at Sylvain’s Luxray, who seemed to be egging her on by roaring and pawing in her direction. Lorenz’s Serperior, Roserade, and Froslass were chatting it up with Sylvain’s Typhlosion and Houndoom, while his Hydreigon took a nap under a tree. Well, at least their Pokemon were having a good time.

Sighing as he ran a hand through his hair, Sylvain pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of Tox and Lavender. He then opened his group chat with his best friends - Dimitri, Felix, and Ingrid - and sent it to them.

‘Aw! how cute! Tox found a girlfriend! <3’ Ingrid was the first to respond, and Sylvain pursed his lips as he typed out his response.

‘You won’t believe who that other toxtricity belongs to.’

‘???’

‘Lorenz Gloucester.’

‘LMAO sux to be you’ Felix had decided to chime in, and a sour look crossed Sylvain’s face.

‘Where’d you run into him?’ Dimitri finally joined in, and Sylvain quickly typed up a summary of the last couple hours of his life for them.

‘Oof, good luck with that.’ Felix said.

‘Do NOT separate them!!! they look so happy!’ Ingrid said at the same time, and Sylvain could practically feel her seething glare on him if he even considered the idea.

‘I’ll figure something out.’ Sylvain hit send and put his phone away, standing up as he turned to face Lorenz.

“Alright, Lorenz, what are we gonna do about this?” Sylvain asked, waving a hand in the direction of their love-struck Pokemon before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well,” Lorenz said as he stood up and started pacing back and forth, his brow furrowing as he rubbed at his chin, “The obvious solution is for one of us to trade Tox or Lavender for the other, but I certainly would never give my precious Lavender up for anything.”

“Yeah, no way in hell I’ve giving up Tox.” Sylvain said, and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from adding ‘especially to an irritating snob like you.’

“I thought so. The next obvious solution is for us to travel together-”

“Oh hell no!” Sylvain cut Lorenz off, and Lorenz narrowed his eyes coldly. “I can barely stand your company for a few hours. I am not crossing the entirety of Faerghus with you.”

“Yes, I detest the idea as well. The only other option is to break them up and go our separate ways.” Lorenz said, and Sylvain nodded.

“Yeah. I’m sure this is just a case of extreme infatuation. Tox may have caught his bad flirting habit from me…” Sylvain mumbled, and Lorenz laughed.

“Ah yes, you were quite the terrible flirt back in our academy days.”

“Oh like you’re one to talk! You were just as bad as me!”

“Oh no, not even close!

“Ugh, whatever!”

The two continued bickering as they crossed the clearing, stopping in front of Tox and Lavender, who blinked and cocked their heads at their trainers.

“Alright Tox, you’ve had your fun, it’s time to go. Say goodbye now.” Sylvain said, pulling out Tox’s poke ball and holding it out towards him.

“Come Lavender. You can do much, much better than this poor excuse of a Toxtricity.” Lorenz said, ignoring the heated glare that Sylvain sent his way.

Tox stared at his poke ball for a moment, and he narrowed his eyes and slapped it out of Sylvain’s grasp. He then growled and sent a spark of electricity shooting through Sylvain’s hand, causing him to jump and yelp in pain.

“Son of a bitch!” Sylvain hissed, jerking his hand to his chest. “What the fuck, Tox?” Tox just growled at him and sent another spark to the ground at his feet, causing Sylvain to jump back again.

“Just look at how barbaric he is. Lavender, dear, you really can do much better-” Lorenz started, but he was cut off when Lavender burst into tears and started wailing, the sorrowful sound deafening enough to cause Lorenz to wince and cover his ears. The sound then turned into an attack and Lorenz was launched off of his feet, with Sylvain following shortly after. Sylvain grunted as he hit the ground hard, and the wind was forcefully knocked from his lungs.

“W-Was that a Boomburst?” Sylvain gasped, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.

“Yes…” Lorenz said, groaning as he struggled back to his feet. “She just learned it.” Lavender’s sobbing had caught the attention of the other Pokemon in the clearing, and Lorenz’s Serperior quickly slithered over to Lavender. She listened to Lavender’s pained wailing for a moment before she hissed and slithered over to Lorenz. Before Lorenz could say anything, his Serperior smacked him over the head with her tail.

“Ow! Serenity! What are you doing?” Lorenz said, rubbing his head as Serenity hissed at him. Lorenz listened patiently as she continued ‘talking’, and Sylvain wasn’t surprised that he could understand her. She had been Lorenz’s first Pokemon, after all, and Sylvain could also understand his Typhlosion pretty well after all the time that they’ve spent together.

“...I see your point. Very well.” Lorenz said, and he quickly made his way back over to Lavender, who was crying into Tox’s chest. He growled as Lorenz approached, and electricity sparked over his arms, and Lorenz’s wisely stopped.

“Lavender, my dear,” Lorenz said, and he paused until she turned to look at him, “I am terribly sorry. I did not mean to brush away your feelings so haphazardly. If you truly do love Tox, then I cannot in good conscious tear you away from him.” Lavender stared at him for a moment, before she let out a happy cry and ran to Lorenz, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling her face against his chest.

“Hey, I’m sorry too, Tox.” Sylvain said, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked up to him. “I want you to be happy, so I guess I can put up with Lorenz for a while so that you and Lavender can be together.” Tox smiled brightly and chirped happily, pulling Sylvain to a bear hug.

“Alright, alright! I can’t breath here!” Sylvain wheezed, and he laughed when Tox let him go and licked him across the face. “Ugh, gross!”

“Well then,” Lorenz said, watching as Lavender ran back into Tox’s arms, embracing him tenderly, “I guess we will have to be traveling partners for a while, Sylvain.” Sylvain frowned and sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

“I guess so. Can’t be helped.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Garrag Mach. The Gym Leader Summit is in a month, so I thought I’d get a head start heading there so I could take my time and visit some friends along the way.”

“Ah, good.” Lorenz nodded as he pulled out his poke balls and started returning all of his Pokemon except for Lavender. “I am heading there as well. I will just have to tag along with you until we get there. By then maybe we can come up with a permanent solution to this...dilemma.”

“Fine. I think I can put up with you for that long. Maybe.” Sylvain said with a wink. He laughed when Lorenz pouted at him, and Sylvain returned all of his Pokemon sans Tox to their poke balls. “Ready to head out then?”

“Yes, let us get moving. Where is your first destination?”

“Fhirdiad. I want to pay a visit to my friends, Dimitri and Dedue.”

“Ah, Dimitri is the gym leader now, yes? I hear his team is quite a force to be reckoned with.” Lorenz said, his amethyst eyes lighting up. “I would love to test my mettle against him.”

“Yeah, he’s a tough one. The toughest gym leader in Faerghus currently. I’m itching to battle him as well. Wanna see if he gives me as much trouble as his dad did during my Gym Challenge.” Sylvain’s heart raced at the thought. He always felt the most poised and confident when in the heat of battle alongside his trusted Pokemon partners. When he eventually took over his father’s gym, he’d be making a living doing what he loved most, and that was why he always trained so hard.

“Oh, I’m sure he will. Compared to my skills as a trainer, you are leagues below me.” Lorenz said, chuckling as he brushed his hair over his shoulder. Sylvain rolled his eyes as they finished packing up their things and headed back to the road.

“Whatever, Lorenz. Whenever we get a chance to battle next, I’ll make you eat those words.”

“Oh, we shall see about that, Sylvain.”

Sylvain glowered at Lorenz as they began their journey to Garrag Mach, with their first destination being Fhirdiad. Tox and Lavender walked along behind them, hand-in-hand, and even though they were the cause of his current frustrating situation, Sylvain couldn’t help but feel happy for them. He supposed that putting up with Lorenz for a month was worth it...maybe. Sylvain sighed as he pulled out his phone to update the group chat on his interesting situation. This...was going to be a long month.

#fire emblem three houses #sylvain jose gautier #lorenz hellman gloucester #sylvenz #sylvain/lorenz #pokemon au #fanfiction #jade writes fanfiction

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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 years

Text

Greatest Work

Fandom: Marvel (High School AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and James “Bucky” Barnes are tied to be the valedictorian at your high school graduation. Throughout senior year, you and James compete with each other to see who will be the valedictorian and give that heartwarming, end of High School speech.

A/N: angst if you squint. also bucky and reader are super smart. unlike me irl.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was the golden boy at SHIELD High School. He was the star quarterback, good looking, kind, funny, and, most of all, smart. He was also your biggest academic rival.

You two were always at each other’s throats.Trying to get the best grade in every class, on every test, for every project, etc. No matter how hard you tried, James was constantly at your level and you hated it.

You nervously sat in Principal Fury’s office. Beside you sat none other than Bucky Barnes himself. Fury, leaned against his chair, his one eye glancing back and forth to you and Bucky.

“So, since we’ve hit the middle of the year, I’d like to inform you that both of you are tied to be valedictorian for your graduating class. Unfortunately, only one of you can be it. The person with the highest grade point average will be anointed that position. I don’t expect you to see this as a competition, but I’d just like you to know what’s at stake here.”

Bucky cleared his throat, flashing a smile that always seemed to charm the teachers, staff, and, well, pretty much anyone, “I just like to say, sir, that I don’t see this as a competition at all,” he turns to you and smirks, “-because I’m clearly going to win.”

Your jaw and fists clenched together as you glared at Bucky, “Then may the best student win, Barnes.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will.” he picked up his backpack and waltzed out of Fury’s office, head held high.

You immediately stood up, grabbing your own back, and marching out the door, Fury mumbling out, “Good luck,” before you slammed it shut.

________________________________

“He is insufferable, Billy!” you exclaimed at your computer as you facetimed with your best friend, Billy Russo, “All he does is flash a smile, say something funny, and everyone falls at his feet! He thinks he’s the king of the school!”

“Y/N, he kind of is,” Billy notes.

“He isn’t! And I’ll prove it when I’m the one who gets a perfect score on Selvig’s final project! Barnes won’t know what’ll hit him and it’ll me who’ll be giving that valedictorian speech at graduation!” you say with an proud and somewhat evil smile.

Billy gives you a concerned look through your screen, “Do you even know what you’re going to make? He expects an impeccable invention that no one has thought of before.”

You nod, “Trust me, Bill, I got it in the bag.”

________________________________

“She’s so annoying, Steve! Such a stuck up, prissy chick! She doesn’t know how to have fun or take a joke or anything! And she honestly thinks that she’ll get to be valedictorian. Against me!” he snorts, “Can you believe that?!”

Steve shrugs as he watches his best friend hunch over his desk, tinkering away at his project for Dr. Selvig’s final project, “She is pretty smart, Buck,” he mumbles out.

Bucky scoffs, “Not as smart as me though. Has she been offered a scholarship to MIT, Stanford, Harvard, and Yale? I don’t think so!”

“Why’s it such a big deal to be valedictorian then if you have all these scholarships offered to you?”

“I don’t care about being valedictorian, Stevie, it’s just the principle of the thing.”

“Which is?”

Bucky glances over his shoulder with a smile, “That I’m better than Y/N L/N.”

_____________________________

For months now, you’ve been spending all of your time perfecting your project. You just knew you were getting that A+ from Dr. Selvig and you couldn’t wait to rub it in Bucky’s face.

You waltzed into the gym where the presentations were going to be held. All of Dr. Selvig’s students were given the same project: to create an invention made to help the misfortuned. You decided to make a prosthetic arm made out of a titanium-alloy. It could sync up to your brain which allowed it to move however the person wanted it to.

You walked towards the table set ups, all of which were labelled for each student. Ironically enough, your table was next to Bucky’s.

“Y/N,” he says with a smirk, looking incredibly proud.

You rolled your eyes as you set your project onto your table, “Barnes.”

“So? What did you end up making?”

“Well let me show you,” you opened your box which held your project. You set it on the table.

Bucky snorted, “Wow. An arm made out of aluminum foil. Gotta say, doll, not your best work.”

Your eyes glared when you picked up the synthetic skin chip and pressed it behind your ear, allowing it to stick to your skin. You clasped your hands together in front of you, eyes still narrowed at Bucky.

“What’re you-”

“Shut up and watch, Barnes,” you sneered. He kept his eyes on the arm and watched as it twitched to life. The fingers wiggling around and oh so slowly did the middle finger raise up.

Bucky’s eyes widened, “Holy shit.”

You smirked, “You’re right on one thing, Barnes, it’s not my best work. It’s my greatest work.”

“Y/N!” you turn to see Billy at the gym’s entrance, waving at you.

“Hey!” you turn to Bucky with a glare, ”touch my project and you die, Barnes.” you then ran over to meet Billy, the glare that was once on your face was gone, now replaced with a smile.

Bucky’s heart dropped when he saw Billy encompass you with a hug. There was a funny feeling in his stomach and he couldn’t figure out why.

His eyes glanced from you and Billy to your project. A darkness filled within him. He had a plan. A very terrible plan, but he didn’t know how to execute it.

“Hey, Buck!” Steve exclaimed as he walked toward Bucky with a lunch tray. A cup of water balanced on top. Perfect.

Bucky rushed up to Steve, “Hey, Stevie, lemme get that for ya, pal.” grabbing the tray from him, “So, how’s it goin’?” Steve began to talk about his day so far, but Bucky wasn’t paying any attention. His head just nodding and saying, “Uh huh,” every second or so. When they got to his and yours table, Bucky “tripped”, the food and water on the tray flying forward and landing exactly on your project.

There was a crackling sizzle and a puff of smoke billowed from the metal arm.

“NO!!” he heard you cry and you ran over to your table, “WHAT THE HELL!” your eyes took in the crime scene before you. Food and water completely covered your project.

“Oops,” you heard Bucky say and your head whipped towards him.

“YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE!” you screamed as you began to hit him.

“Ah! Jesus! What? No, it was an accident, I swear!”

“One minute my project is fine and as soon as I leave, it’s ruined and you happen to be right next to it! You trying to tell me that’s a coincidence, Barnes?!”

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky said it as if it was an obvious answer.

“What’s going on here?” Dr. Selvig asked.

You pointed a finger at Bucky immediately, “Barnes ruined my project!”

“Sir, I did not! I was just helping Steve carry his tray of food and I tripped!”

“Tripped on what?! Air?!” you yelled.

“It happens!” Bucky yelled back.

Dr. Selvig stepped in-between the both of you, “Hey! Enough with the yelling match! James, did you purposely ruin Y/N’s project.”

Bucky shook his head, “Of course not, sir.”

“LIAR!”

Dr. Selvig turned to you, “Y/N, please.”

“Doctor Selvig, please, I worked so hard and-”

“I’m sure you did. Unfortunately, there isn’t time for you to fix it, which means I can only grade you on your write-up and blueprints.” He gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder and walked away.

That was when Bucky got a look at your face. It was red and your eyes were watery. You looked so...broken, “You won. Are you happy with yourself, Barnes? You won and now I’ll never get that scholarship to MIT!” you said with a cracked voice. You ran out of the gym as fast as you could.

Billy caught eyes with Bucky. If looks could kill, Bucky was sure he’d dropped dead, “You better watch yourself, Barnes.” with that, he left to go after you.

Bucky should’ve felt proud and relieved. He’d definitely get to be valedictorian now, but why did he have a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Buck,” Steve mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me the truth, did you trip on purpose? Did you wanna ruin Y/N’s project?”

He wanted to tell the truth. He should’ve...but he just couldn’t, “Nah, Stevie. It was an accident. I swear.”

_______________________________

Bucky didn’t see you at school the next two days. For once, you’d miss school, which was a shock to him and your teachers. Again, he should feel relieved, but...he didn’t. Seeing your empty seat in every single class just made him feel guiltier and guiltier. He got a perfect score from Dr. Selvig and also his project was going to be proposed to some of the highest tech companies in the world

He was given the Valedictorian sash and was given a ‘Congratulations’ from Principal Fury...but he didn’t deserve it. You did.

So after school, he made his way to your place. With a knock on your door, he waited for someone to answer. He just didn’t expect it to be Billy Russo.

“What the hell do you want?” He sneered and Bucky gulped.

“Can I see Y/N?”

“No. Now get outta here before I punch your teeth in.”

“Please, Billy, I just-I need to apologize to her!”

“No fucking-”

“It’s okay, Bill.” you come up to his side and pull him back, “It’ll be quick.”

Billy glared at Bucky again, “Fine. But just say the word and I’ll beat him to a pulp.”

You give him a small smile, “I know you will.” you pushed him inside and closed the door behind you. You crossed your arms over your chest, “What?”

“I-” Bucky cleared his throat, “I didn’t see you in school today.”

You shrugged, “Didn’t feel like going.”

He nodded, “Oh...um.” he opened his bag to pull out a sash with your school’s color on it. ‘Valedictorian’ was sewn onto it, “Here,” he offered it to you, “I told Doctor Selvig and Fury what I did. I was given an F for sabotage and, well, I couldn’t be valedictorian since I didn’t have the highest GPA.”

You took it, your thumb rubbing over the satin, “Why, Bucky? Why did you do it?”

He sighed, “I don’t know. I just...whenever it comes to you I just-I’m not myself! I get competitive, I say mean things, and do messed up shit. I just-I don’t know! You make me feel things that I’ve never felt before. You’re incredibly smart, funny, friendly, creative. You’re amazing, Y/N.”

“So what? You like me or something?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. I think so?”

You scoffed, “If you like someone, Bucky, this isn’t how you’re supposed to treat them.”

His shoulders sagged and his head hung down, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Well, um, thanks for this,” you gestured to the sash, “and for telling Selvig and Fury the truth.”

He nodded, “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

“So...I’ll see you at graduation then?”

“Yeah. See ya.” he watched as you slowly walked back to your door and go inside, softly shutting the door behind you. Bucky let out a breath of relief and went to his car to go home.

___________________________

10 Years

You’re at your high school reunion, catching up with old classmates. It was nice to see how everyone was doing, but you did wish that Billy was here. He couldn’t make it do to his tour in Iraq. Yeah. Billy was soldier, a Marine. You missed him like crazy, but you knew he was doing something that he dreamed of.

“Y/N?” you turned around to meet a pair of blue eyes that you haven’t seen in a long time.

“James Barnes?”

He chuckled, “Yeah. Um, that’s me.” he waved, your eyes immediately catching a glint of silver. Bucky, noticing this, immediately smiled sheepishly, “Oh, um, I was in the army and got hit with a grenade.’ he shrugged off his jacket to reveal an all too familiar metal arm.

“Wait, is that-”

“The arm you designed for Selvig’s project? Yeah. Funny right?”

You immediately grabbed a hold of it, examining it on him, “I mean, I knew it was being produced and distributed to people all around the world, I just didn’t expect you to be one of ‘em.”

“Yeah. Neither did I. But when my doctor offered up the trials for it, I immediately said yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s your greatest work yet.”

You smiled at him, “Do you wanna get a drink after this?” you asked him.

Bucky smiled, “I love that.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #marvel #au #high school au

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a-deadly-serenade · 5 years

Text

The Shield and the Sword: Chapter 6: Familiars Are A Girl’s Best Friend [Alucard/Reader]

You’re a witch that is skilled in herbology, one that has been persecuted by the church for practically your entire life. In spite of this, moving throughout different towns has allowed you to pick up some chatter about a woman in a village called Lupu. She is supposed to be a wonder when it comes to medicine, and this immediately perks up your interest. So after plucking up some courage, you’ve made it to her door… hoping that she takes you as her apprentice.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724856?view_full_work=true

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You ran over to your bedroom door and pulled it open, Adrian joining you out into the hallway as you quietly shut your door. “So, who would be the quickest from here?” you asked.

He hummed, and then turned to face the opposite side of the corridor. “The long library is the closest to your room, so let us start there.”

With that you started on your adventure, having to quickly follow alongside Adrian so that you wouldn’t get lost amongst the winding halls of Castlevania. It turns out that Adrian was correct in choosing this supposed long library, because you arrived in front of a large marble doorway quicker than you expected.

“This is it,” he said, and easily pushed it open. Dark marble tile lined the floor and walls, portraits of famous Greek monsters lining the walls, such as Medusa, the Minotaur, the Manticore, and the Siren. Bookshelves towered high, so high that you nearly tripped on yourself as your craned your neck to try and see the top. Large lanterns that burned with bright red flames, helped illuminate the long wooden desks that lined one side of the immense room. Two plush, purple chairs with golden frames were pushed inside each of the desks, and rows and rows of bookshelves stood behind them.

There were various other doors within the room, which surprised you to think that this place was even bigger than this. Adrian led you down a long corridor and up a set of marble stairs, and finally through another door, which held a small room inside.

A large, antique desk stood in the middle of the room, cluttered with books and parchment and spilt vials of ink. A long white candle sits inside an iron candlestick that is nearly covered in thick wax, the flame flickering along with a small fire that sits behind a metal gate. Two bookshelves are jammed packed with books, scrolls, plays, and maps, ancient artifacts hanging from the walls, like Medusa shields and pots from ancient civilizations.

“Young master, welcome!” cries out an old, nasally voice. Sitting in a large, worn, green chair was an old man. He had a long, curly white beard and piercing black eyes. He almost resembled the great scientist Galileo, you thought, with his dark maroon cap and robes; he appeared about as knowledgeable as well.

“It’s been a bit, old one,” Adrian said with a smile.

“What brings you here today?” he asked, before his expression changed to one of shock when he finally noticed you. “Oooh, now I see why you haven’t been stopping by as much.” there was a twinkle in eye, waggling his finger in teasing as the both of you jumped to argue against it.

“Now, now, calm down. There is no need to get into such a huff,” he laughed. “I can tell that this one is wise beyond her years. It is too much of me to say that you are in the medical profession?”

“Uh… yes, how… how did you…?” you stumbled over your words in mild shock.

He laughed again, but it was not a mocking sound. No, it was more akin to a grandfather laughing at a joke that seemingly flew over your head. “I am this castle’s librarian, my dear. I have quite the talent at reading people.”

“Wow,” you sound breathless. “Well, yes, you are correct. I overheard about Lisa’s abilities, so I sought her out and asked if she would accept an apprenticeship from me.”

“Fascinating,” he replied.

“I don’t know if Adrian told you, but I came from a clan of witches that specialized in healing,” you explain.

“Ah yes,” he nodded. “Although, it was not the young master I talked to. I recall when the Master and I had a conversation about you. He seemed hesitant, knowing about the reputation of other witches that dabbled in dark magic. But, he saw something in you. It seems as though he was correct in making that assumption.”

You were dumbfounded that Vlad had said something like that about you. It was very humbling to know that even Dracula could be impressed by someone other than his family.

“We,” you finally find your voice, a bashful smile on your face. “We actually came here looking for one of Adrian’s familiars.”

“Oh of course I have to fetch that blubbering buffoon,” the librarian grumbled to himself.

“There’s no need,” Adrian replied. “I can fetch him, he is mine after all--”

“No!” he shouted. “I know where he is, off making a ruckus,” he walked over to a small stepping ladder that had been set in front of a bookshelf. He climbed up the first two stairs, muttering to himself as his finger slid across the spines of several books. “There you are!” he abruptly shouted, and heaved the large tome off of the shelf. He plopped it open on his desk and flipped through several pages, he then gave the passage a good slap. “Come on! Don’t waste our time! The young master wants to see you!”

The book suddenly lifted itself off of the desk, something flipping through the contents very rapidly. A low groan rumbled from the text, and in an instant, a human skull covered in a layer of wavering protoplasm emerged.

You gasped, and the skull gave a shake before it turned to seemingly glare at the librarian. “What’s the big idea here, old man? You had no right pulling me out of there!”

“Hush you old fool!” the librarian scolded. “Your master is here!” he pointed at Adrian, and the ghost let out a terrified cry when he saw him standing beside you.

“Master…” he floated over. “I apologize, if I had known that you were coming--”

“That’s enough, Matthias.” Adrian said. “I wanted to speak with you, for there is someone that I would like you to meet.” he gave you a firm tug and pulled you beside him as he introduced you to the ghost. “You will treat her with respect, you understand?”

The skull looks at you with an air of disregard. “You’re the witch that I have heard about,” there was mild disgust in his tone. “Off to drink the blood of the innocent, eh?”

“Excuse me?!” you nearly shriek.

Adrian placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “How many times do I have to tell you that the Countess you once ruled over was not a vampire! You live with vampires!”

The ghost let out a horrible wail. “Do not remind me! The fact that I was cursed to serve a family of vampires is so humiliating!”

Adrian rolled his eyes and turned to the librarian. “I suppose now would be an appropriate time to head out.” he said, and bid him good luck as the two of you left the old man with the chattering, whiny ghost.

“Well that was certainly… interesting,” you laughed, and gave Adrian a grin when you heard him groan.

“I apologize for his behavior, he’s usually not so… insufferable. He usually reserves only nasty fits like these when someone comes into the library unannounced, for he’s usually serving as the librarian’s secretary while he’s away.”

The both of you chuckled as you walked down hallways and staircases, until you were finally led back outside into an outdoor courtyard. Tall, stone pillars towered above the two of you in a circular formation, ledges connecting all of them to form a long pathway that was lined with overgrown ivy. Small candelabras lit the way, the candlelight creating an eerie glow under the moonlight as you walked side by side.

A sundial stood in the middle, and you grazed your finger across the dial as you wondered just what sort of familiar would reside here.

Adrian gave a whistle, before crying out, “Cereza!”

Tiny squeaks filled the night air, and a large black mass blocked out the white light of the moon as a bat with huge, startling red wings flew down from the sky. Its claws dug into the fabric of Adrian’s shirt as it hung upside down off his arm, cleaning its face with its big, leathery wings.

“Who’s that?” you whisper, the bat pausing its grooming to look at you with large, brown eyes.

“Her name is Cereza,” Adrian explained. “I’ve raised her since she was a little baby,” he gave her a good scratch on her chin, and then introduced Cereza to you.

The bats ears flicked from side to side as Adrian spoke, and when he was finished, she turned her massive body around to get a good look at you.

You felt yourself flush under her gaze, silently hoping that she approved of you, although you were unsure what she searched for as she continued to silently stare.

After several tense seconds, she flapped over and gave you quick licks on your cheek, her form of kisses. You giggled, heart aflutter that Cereza had at least judged you to be worthy of being here.

“Thank goodness someone has some sense,” Adrian gave you a smile, happy that Cereza was so fond of you already. “Would it be alright if she tags along? She wanted to come with us.”

“Of course!” you reply. “Who are we off to see next?”

“We will need to head lower into the castle,” Adrian stated. “Follow me, I have a shortcut.” he grabbed a hold of your hand and started to lead you to where he wanted to go.

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you hurried to keep pace as he ran towards a peeling wooden door that looked practically ancient. He pushed down the iron handle, and urged you down a set of stone stairs that glowed blue under a mysterious light.

The farther down you walked, the louder the sound of running water grew, your hand getting slightly damp as you ran it across the surface of the wall. Before long, the two of you had made it to the bottom of the stairs, into an enormous underground cavern that stretched for miles.

Giant stalactites hung from the ceiling, dripping with their mineral rich solutions onto the growing stalagmites below. Tiny bats flew out from small holes in the stone above, eagerly gobbling up all the dragonflies and other bugs that buzzed in the air. The croaking of fat, green bullfrogs could be heard as well, and you almost felt as if you were on an entirely different planet, as you walked beside a thunderous waterfall.

Adrian followed the river, and before long, you spotted a boat floating at a dock. The ferryman gave Adrian a wave, his sunken gaze lighting up as a large sack of gold was thrust into his hands.

“Hehe, thank you!” he cried out, clambering into the boat as he grabbed the great big oar that would be used to steer.

You climbed in after Adrian, the ferryman having to use hardly any force as the swift currents easily tugged the boat along. The old man put his oar in the water to slow the approach as the rocky shore neared, and when the boat came to a full stop, the two of you (and Cereza) continued on.

It finally seemed as though you had arrived, when Adrian stopped walking so he could knock on the wall. The small space was littered with branches and tiny animal bones, and an array of round rocks and geodes.

Cereza let out a cry and flew over to a hole in the ceiling, where she flapped her wings to cause a gust of air to tunnel inside. “Alright, alright! Give me a sec!” a shrill voice shrieks.

Cereza backs off and allows for a purple, winged demon to hop down from one of the stalactites. The creature had bright red eyes, small horns, and walked on its hind legs, which were, surprisingly, covered in brown tattered pants. Long, thick claws helped it pick up a crudely fashioned spear, and it walked over to Adrian, its hooved feet making loud clacking sounds against the stone.

“Hatred, I would prefer it if we could speak face-to-face,” Adrian said, and the demon leaped into the air, its wings flapping as it hovered in front of its master.

“What brings you down here, Master?” he asked, before letting out a cry of alarm when his eyes landed on you. “Who’s that?!”

Adrian introduced you, and after he let slip that you were a witch, the demon’s demeanor instantly shifted.

“Oh! You’re a witch?” he leaned over to look at you. “Hmm… it doesn’t seem as though you’ve ever communicated with my kind before.”

“Of course not,” you snapped. “Demons are untrustworthy, why would I ever want to summon one?”

Hatred clearly looked offended at your words. “I am not untrustworthy! I protect my Master! Isn’t that right? Tell her!” he shouted.

“I would put aside your demon biases when it comes to Hatred,” Adrian whispered. “I know they have quite the reputation, but he has sworn allegiance to me.”

Hatred nodded his head in agreement. “Yes sir, I have. I would never betray my Master! To do so, would be punishable by death!”

“Well, I don’t know about that--” Adrian tried to say, but Hatred interrupted him.

“No, it is the only deserving punishment! And because he trusts you so much, I will swear my loyalty to you, miss,” he said, giving you a bow.

“There’s no need to do that!” you said, embarrassed.

“Nonsense!” Hatred stated. He snapped his fingers and out game a card, which he handed to you. “From this day forth, should you ever need me, simply focus your energy into that card, and I will appear to you, no matter where you are.”

You thanked him as you took the gift, shocked that two of Adrian’s familiars had accepted you so quickly.

Adrian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sack filled with big, juicy green beetles, which he hands to Hatred. The demon happily gobbled them up, a long leg sticking out from the side of his mouth as he chewed up the last remains.

Cereza gives a few squeaks, and Hatred rolled his eyes. “You always have to criticize me about something, don’t you princess?” he said the nickname scathingly, giving her the stink eye as the bat continued to talk to him.

“That’s enough you two,” Adrian said. “If you’re going to get snippy with each other, we might as well leave.”

Hatred gave Cereza one last glare before he flew over to the pile of rocks in one corner of the room. “Alright, that’s fine by me!” he cried out, picking up a geode and attempting to crack it open with his teeth. “Remember what I said little lady!” he shouted, as you gave him a wave as you and Adrian began walking out of the cave.

“I’m glad that went well, he can oftentimes be very abrasive to people that he is unfamiliar with.” Adrian mused, his hands behind his back.

“I guess being a witch has its benefits,” you joked, Adrian giving you a playful smile in return.

“Off to the last one, then?” you stated.

Adrian nodded and took a hold of your hand once more as he lead you down the pathways back to the ferryman, who took the both of you back across the river, free of charge. Cereza had decided to remain inside the caves, wanting to rejoin the smaller bats that lived there to partake in their current feeding frenzy.

When the moonlight finally made itself visible again, he lead you through the courtyard and back inside of the castle.

The next room that you found yourself in was an extravagant ballroom. Massive would have been an understatement in describing its sheer size, the floor being made of smooth, polished wood and the walls being made of pristine black and white marble. Two chandeliers hung on opposite sides of the room, their large candles igniting themselves as soon you walked through the doors, allowing you to see the beautiful artwork that adorned the ceiling. It curved upwards to form a dome, intricate paintings of Greek figures like Zeus, Hera, cupids, and beautiful nymphs hiding amongst the clouds surrounded a large circular roof window. This part of the architecture was in a league all its own, an enormous stain glass piece that caused the floor below it to be dotted in twinkling rainbow lights.

A gigantic painting hung above a marble fireplace, a lifelike portrait of a main with long black hair and a sharp, pointed face that resembled Adrian. He had gray eyes that shined with hunger and power, a luxurious, silky robe made of ermine draped across his shoulders, that had been fitted into a shining set of armor. A sword was in his hands, legs spread apart in an authoritative stance and he appeared ready to take on the world.

“Is that… your father?” you questioned.

Adrian nodded, taking a spot beside you as he gazed up at the intimidating work of art. “Indeed. This was far before he met my mother, however. This was when he was still a soldier, and a formidable one at that.”

“It’s hard to think of your father before meeting Lisa,” you said. “I cannot even imagine what he must have been like.”

“Mother tells me that humans were terrified of him, believing him to be more myth than man,” Adrian said this in an amusing tone, his heels tapping softly against the hard wood as he walked up to the fireplace.

It was then that you noticed the two swords that hung on the wall, and Adrian easily grabbed a hold of the lowermost, letting the blade rest in his hands.

You were a little confused, but before you could even say a thing, the sword slid out of his grip and effortlessly hovered just above his shoulder.

“How did you--?”

“This, is my final familiar,” his eyes darted over to his right shoulder, and the sword slid off its current pedestal and moved to levitate between the two of you.

“A sword?” your tone was laced with skepticism. “That’s your last familiar? How can a sword be a familiar?”

He took a firm grip of the handle, lifting up the blade so as to inspect it. “Mother tells me that it is a family heirloom, and when I was of age, she gifted it to me.”

Your eyes widened in shock after hearing this. “This sword belong to Lisa?”

Adrian shrugged, lowering the sword so that it rest at his side. “I am not sure if she used it herself, she did not tell me much about it. But it is a very loyal and powerful weapon.”

You looked at him, and then looked at the sword. Curiosity was starting to get the better of you, and you wanted to see how this thing operated when it was being used in battle.

“Show me.”

It was not a question, and one of Adrian’s fine, blond eyebrows rose up, as if challenging your statement. “Are you sure?”

“Did I stutter?”

A grin erupted on his face, the dhampir taking a step back and putting his hands behind him as his sword cut through the air. It did several sweeps, before it stopped dead, and made a direct beeline towards you.

You let out a scream, eyes screwing shut as you raised your hands up in a defensive posture. You didn’t think that he’d just charge at you like that!

A dull thud thrummed up your fingers, and when you didn’t feel any pain, you slowly opened your eyes to find the sword floating in front of your hand, as though it had been stopped by something.

“Did… did you stop it?” your voice wavered, a bit more frightened than you wanted to be.

“Interesting,” he hummed. “Seems as though you created a barrier and put a stop to it.”

“What? A barrier…” you looked around you, confusion etched upon your features. There was nothing surrounding you, so how could he say that you had summoned a barrier?

Adrian grabbed his sword and a stabbed the exact same spot, the blade wobbling slightly as it ran into… something.

“See?”

You were astonished, as you had never done anything like that before. “I never knew that I could form barriers.”

“It seems as though you are powerful than you gave yourself credit for,” he gave you a smirk, sword in hand as he stood before you.

You looked down at your hands, clenching them into fists as you felt the undeniable sting of magic course through your veins. You thought that it would be useful if you could somehow practice the use of this new spell, understanding the only way for it to become stronger was through continuous use.

“Adrian, I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh?” he leaned forward slightly, his blond hair almost creating a curtain on either side of your face.

He smelled of leather and books, with just a hint of fresh grass, his golden eyes shining like rare gems in the candlelight. You felt yourself unconsciously draw yourself closer to him, your teeth digging into your lower lip as you nodded your head.

“Seeing as how I’m helping you improve your magic skills, it would only seem fair if you assist me in my combat skills.” you gave him a toothy grin, your pulse quickening as he laughed, and his fangs gleamed in contrast to his richly colored locks.

“That sounds fair,” he brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face, your skin burning under his touch. You felt his hand linger on your cheek for a moment, before it slid down your neck and then finally rested on your shoulder. There, it remained slightly indecisive, before he relinquished his grip and put his hands behind his back once more.

He gave a flick of the wrist and his sword flew back onto its spot on the wall, while you silently hoped that he could not hear how loudly your heart was hammering within your chest.

“I will see you tomorrow then,” he gently grabbed your hand, peppering not one, but two kisses to your knuckles. “Small lady.”

You were certain you were blushing now, as he called you by the nickname you had given Aria. You gave him a silent nod as he walked away, the words of the hibiscus echoing inside your mind,

I know the true feelings that lay in your heart… of the one with the beautiful golden hair, the prince of darkness.

The reality was so obvious that it was staring you in the face, but still… you refused to believe that these feelings were justified, that they were real…

You let out a deep sigh, laughing up at the moon that hung high in the sky. “What am I going to do…” you muttered, as you walked out of the ballroom, trying to deny the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach, and the beating of your heart as your mind reminded you of how he smelled, reminded you of his voice, and reminded you of the way that he had looked at you--

You shook your head to try and clear away these messy ideas, and while you told yourself there was nothing to these feelings, you could not deny that the last thing you thought of before falling asleep was a pair of brilliant golden eyes.

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realityhelixcreates · 5 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 13: Baited Traps and Telling Dreams

Chapters: 13/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Nothing, I Think Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not yet) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Clint Barton Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending, Writer Wants to Make a Mythical Detective Loki Ragnarok Joke but Never Finished the Book, Look Dude the Avengers Don’t Like You, Deal With It, Loki Makes a Hasty Declaration Summary: Loki begins his investigation, Reader deals with being injured.

“Hear me, loyal followers!” Loki addresses the gathered encampment. ”You who persevere through cold nights, you who make your devotion known with your presence! I have need of your assistance in an important matter!”

Perhaps he was laying it on a bit thick, but it had netted him the attention of every human in the camp; even the little worm he had berated before.

“Just this morning, outside the city, an attempt was made on the life of my…”He hesitated for just a moment. “My Seidkona. Perhaps some you remember her? She came out among you a month ago. This craven assailant then stole a horse, and rode back this way. He used this blade.”

Loki produced the offending weapon and held it out for inspection.

“I will not require you to throw the coward at my feet this instant; I would not expect any of you to put yourselves in that kind of danger. However, if any of you have information, I expect it to be delivered to any of the gate guards very soon. Until then, go about your business, with my blessing.”

A few of them winced at that last part, which filled him with a dark satisfaction. So there were intelligent individuals out here after all, those who might understand that the blessing of the God of Mischief may have many edges.

Let them band together or tear each other apart now; it didn’t matter. As long as he got what he was after, who cared how these mortals produced it?

He left them to their tents and fires, marching back through the city, glaring at practically everyone who approached him.

That was one possibility set in motion. Hopefully the strength of their faith would allow the campers to turn on one of their own, if one of them was really the culprit. He would see that a handsome reward would go to any of them that provided information. The camp humans hadn’t been shown any special regard so far, but keeping them firmly on the side of the gods might be more advantageous than he had previously thought. They had to know every human in the area, because they were every human in the area.

Loki made straight for the large library, where, on his orders, most of the remaining Asgardian historians were gathered. Here, he presented the blade once more, bidding them to search any sources they might have, to discover if the weapon had any known history. If it had come from within Asgard, they had the best chance of finding out.

That was the second possibility. If any of his Asgardian enemies were behind this, he would not show them mercy either. You were human, but you were under Crown protection. An attack on you was treason, and no matter how above the law some families thought they might be, he was all too willing to remind them of how wrong they were.

Now for the most annoying part. Passing the guards and entering the sparse, shrine-like computer room, he switched the machine on and entered his own password. He brought up a video call, and waited.

Tony Starks’ smug, stupid face popped up on the screen.

“Hey Thor, you need a genius today or wh-“ He noticed who he was talking to. “Oh, fuck off!”

He stormed away from the camera, quickly replaced by Pepper.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Potts.” Loki said evenly. “Good to see a professional.”

“Kiss my titanium ass!” Tony shouted from offscreen.

“Er, what can I do for you?” She asked, eyes flicking to the side as Tony began going into a full rant. “I’m sorry, it looks like I need to transfer you. One moment.”

“No, we don’t apologize to him! We do not-“

The screen blacked out for a moment, coming back online in an entirely different part of the tower.

“Hello? Who is…hm.” A familiar face and voice went from curious, to cold in no time flat. Loki smiled, but not in a friendly manner.

“Hello, Clint.” He said in a low, gentle voice. “How are you doing today?”

“I was better twenty seconds ago. What do you want?”

“I would not assume you are ignorant of what is happening in my area of the world. Why would I call?”

“Either something is rotten in the state of Asgard, or something concerns the woman you stole. So which is it? Straight talk; I don’t have the time or patience for your knotted speech, so just get to the heart of it.”

Insufferable. Why couldn’t Banner have been there? He could at least talk to Bruce. This was going to be like flinging words at a wall.

Loki explained what had happened, playing up your vulnerability, and the injustice and cowardice of your attacker. Clint had a soft heart underneath all his skill; he would want to help you, even though he had never met you.

“What I want to know is if she had any enemies among her peers that would have the means to get here. Or alternately, if you know of anyone who would make an attempt on her for being close to my brother and I.”

“Oh yeah, that’s not a huge number of possible suspects or anything. Let me just get right on that, it’s not like I have anything else to do for the rest of my life.”

“I didn’t say it had to be you specifically, but if you are volunteering…”

“I’ll see what can be done. No guarantees.” Hawkeye then abruptly ended the call.

Loki sighed at the blank screen. The only consolation was that eventually, this entire generation of humanity would die, and he might be able to make a fresh start.

Now to wait.

No, now to check on you.

*****

Loki led you gently by the hand through the most lavish building you had ever seen. There were entire gilded rooms, glowing, warm; tapestries as long as the halls, gloriously detailed in the history of Asgard. Every floor a mosaic, every pillar carved with the delicacy of lace. Foreign music floated on the air.

You felt as if you were floating as well, wrapped in loose clothing, light on your feet. Loki wouldn’t let you make any sudden moves, bidding you to just walk slowly and take in everything around you.

You were vaguely aware of a stiff feeling in your back, of your surroundings being smaller than they appeared. Loki’s scent was all around you, comforting. Here, you had no fears. In this beautiful palace, he ruled, and you were safe. No sickness, no dead fields, no evil; just tender hand-holding, and justified pride in thousands of years of Asgardian artistry.

Your clothing tangled around your legs, but you didn’t fall. A sheet? You were wearing a sheet? And bandages? You could feel them around your torso, not too tight, but enough to be noticeable.

The music changed, fading into a low hum. You had heard this before, in the medical wing. Bjarkehild had described a machine that showed everything that might be wrong with a patient. She’d called it a ’Soul Forge’, explained that what they had now was a very stripped down version of it. Like the Bifrost, it was one of the things they were slowly rebuilding, always improving upon.

Were they near the medical area of the palace? What wonders might be there? You asked if you could go see it, and Loki simply smiled and nodded.

The place he led you to was just as lovely as the rest of the palace; clean and sterile, but not lifeless, decorated in soft, calming colors. You’d spent a lot of time in doctor’s offices and hospitals over the past year, but none of them had seemed so comforting.

Loki scooped you up and placed you on one of the beds. It was so soft and warm. The sheet spread out around you. He tucked it up around your shoulders, sat down next to you, and took your hand again, under the sheet.

If only you could stay like this. Safe and unafraid. Warm. Happy. You knew it couldn’t last; you lived a life of impermanence. Once you opened your eyes, this would all be gone.

You opened your eyes to find yourself only partially correct. You were in a bed, and you were in the medical area. You were in a sheet, and wrapped in bandages. Loki was there, and he was holding your hand under the sheet.

But there was no ancient palace, no beautiful art or architecture. And unlike what you now realized was a dream, you were still filled with fear and apprehension. You drew your hand away.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Loki said, standing to hover over you, worry in his tight expression. “How do you feel?”

“Not sure yet.” You said, groggy. “What happened to me?”

“We were attacked. Some craven bastard threw a knife at you.”

“Oh. I thought it felt like getting punched by a fist made of wasps.” You said. You didn’t mention that a sneaky knife attack sounded like the kind of thing Loki would do. Perhaps it was only ‘craven’ when someone else was doing it.

“Did you hit the horse?”

Loki sighed and sat back down. “No. You actually guaranteed that wouldn’t happen. Not that I would have struck the animal anyway; my aim is always precise.”

“I messed up your throw. Sorry.”

“Oh, a bit more than that, I’m pleased to say. You performed your first feat of independent magic. Teleportation. You brought my blade right back to me. It was very tidy, but you’ve had an excellent teacher, so I expect no less.”

So smug. You would have found it endearing, if you weren’t so caught up in yourself.

“It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought.” You said. “Don’t get me wrong, it hurts a lot, but I thought it would be more debilitating.”

“The knife did not penetrate far. Luckily, our assailant was clumsy with his throw, and left you with no more than a nasty cut. The only reason you are here right now is because dealing with a sudden injury and with sudden magic fatigue at the same time overwhelmed you. But you will be fine now. Look, I have grapes.”

He handed you a little bowl full of the green and purple fruits, which you dug into ravenously.

“I can teleport?”

“You can teleport objects, at least. Small ones. But perhaps bigger, with time. Perhaps even something as big as yourself, someday.”

“So…kinda like a little, walking Bifrost?” You wondered. Loki went silent, mouth opened, mouth closed, absorbing the idea.

“That is actually a very interesting thought. What a clever little thing you are! Look at how your value grows. A movable Bifrost would be precious indeed.”

His expression darkened.

“All the more reason to find this enemy and neutralize them. I’ve got several investigations ongoing, but for now…” He placed his hand on top of the sheet, trying to find yours underneath. You moved your hand away.

“I know I have been busy, and you’ve been cooped up like a doll in a closet. But while this threat is still looming, I intend to keep you close by. You may have to sit through some terribly boring official meetings, but at least you will not be alone. It’s either that or being locked into your room, I’m afraid.”

“Is that allowed? I’m not a dignitary or anything. Isn’t some of that stuff secret?”

Loki regarded you with some amusement. “Tell me, what is it you think royalty actually does?”

“I dunno.” You grumbled. “Top secret government stuff.”

“Ha! You think we have garden parties and eat treats all day, don’t you?”

You thought about Hamlet. Lear. Othello. All the blood, the distrust, the betrayal.

“Not exactly. I guess I just don’t know.”

“Prepare to learn. And if you get bored, you can just bring a book.”

You groaned.

*****

Loki had been right: some of these meetings were super boring. You couldn’t understand most of what was being said; only when Thor or Loki were using their ‘allspeak’ magic. Even then, you only got their parts of the conversation.

Loki had dressed you up like you were something special, but it hardly seemed to matter. The people meeting with the brothers either ignored you completely, or seemed annoyed that you were there at all, no matter how you looked. Maybe he’d just done it for his own pleasure. He had referred to you as a doll, after all.

One fellow in particular seemed very displeased to see you there, and had a lengthy-and if Loki’s expression was any indication-impertinent argument about your presence. Loki had used Allspeak the entire time. Either he wanted you to know how disgusted this man was by you, or he wanted you to know he was defending you.

“It is final, Alarr.” He said firmly. “It is not your concern.”

The man, Alarr, bristled and huffed, speaking back with obvious disrespect.

“Actually, you do.” Thor said. “He is my brother, my advisor, my second-in-command. He is your prince, and it is important that everyone remembers that, especially people with your influence. It is of utmost importance that we remain united as we rebuild. There are too many people who would see us divided.”

Alarr gesticulated broadly. You thought you heard the name Odin somewhere in the tirade.

“This is all true. However, these times are different from our golden age, and calls for a different kind of leadership. Even our father grew weary of conquering and made sincere attempts at peace. So too, will we. But it must start with tolerance for the presence of the people who were here before us. There will not be another Nornheim.”

Alar stroked his braided, blonde beard. He was clearly still displeased, but seemed to acquiesce, though he shot suspicious glances at you for the rest of the meeting. He seemed to be demanding that the camp be removed, viewing them as a safety hazard, a possible harbor for enemies.

To your relief, both king and prince believed that to be unreasonable and unnecessary. Not to mention unsustainable.

“How many Einherjar do you propose we remove from their posts and their training, to fruitlessly patrol the fens in search of itinerant humans?” Loki asked. “And by what rights do we remove citizens of this country from land that is still theirs? What measures do you suggest we take to repel them? Do we become violent toward the very people who have harbored us?”

The argument went back and forth, but Loki’s defense of the camp stuck with you. He didn’t even like the people out there. He too, had said that he considered them potentially dangerous. You didn’t see what he got out of defending them. It couldn’t be because of you, and you doubted it was simply because it was the right thing to do.

“He is literally always so unpleasant, all the time, every day.” Loki said, after Alarr had left.

“He’s of the old guard.” Thor said with a shrug. “He will get used to the new ways. There isn’t really any other choice.”

“He’s going to be trouble.” Loki warned. “He does not see me as a legitimate authority, and he barely tolerates you as one.”

“And what do you suggest then? We can’t imprison him for ‘general unpleasantness’. For one thing; we don’t have a prison.”

“What, you guys don’t have spies? Can’t you just watch over him?” You interjected. They both turned to look at you, their movements almost comically mirrored.

“Eh, never mind.” It wasn’t really your place to speak here. Who knew, maybe all their spies had been killed in the destruction of Asgard, or were trapped offworld, with no Bifrost to bring them back.

“It’s nothing you need worry yourself about.” Loki said. “You needn’t worry about anything.”

Or do anything, if the entire boring day was any indication. At least Loki and Thor got to talk to people, even get into interesting debates. You got to sit still and say nothing. You couldn’t even get really comfortable, the slash across your back twanging every time you put any kind of pressure on it.

He was probably just trying to reassure you of your safety, but the boredom was almost torture. You could have stayed locked in your room and been safe enough. At least then, you could have had a nap. But Loki insisted on keeping you within arms’ reach. The attack must have really spooked him.

You probably should have felt more conflicted about it than you did. Someone had tried to kill you! Or, at least, someone had tried to hurt one of the two of you. Loki could not be ruled out as the intended target of that knife either.

Oh, he had been so ticked off, demanding to know if you had seen the danger coming, if you had tried to protect him with your body. You had told him how stupid that was; he was thousand times tougher than you, he could take a knife without needing your help. That seemed to mollify him, but now you wondered if you should have lied and gotten yourself locked up.

Again, at least you could have taken a nap.

Loki left his chair to crouch before you.

“Are you hungry? Do you hurt?” His hand stroked down your back, causing you to wince away. “Oh, you do hurt. Do we have anything that can alleviate pain?”

“We need to stock up on some human medications for you.” Thor said. There was a sort of sparkle in his good eye as he watched his brother. “They’re completely ineffective to us, I’m afraid.”

“Er, speaking of that, I’m definitely going to need some, uh, feminine hygiene products.” You hadn’t wanted to talk about this, but there wasn’t any getting around it. “I’ve got the insert, but it takes a little while to dry everything up.”

Both brothers stared at you, baffled.

“I know what all of those words mean individually…”Loki began.

You sighed. “I think I need to talk to Bjarkehild.”

#lasabrjotr #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#thor (marvel)#tony stark #Iron Man #pepper potts #clint barton #hawkeye

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dw-writes · 6 years

Note

also something with cross marian and a scientist reader

Spyentist.

Also, I know a lot of yall arent here for D.Gray-Man but?? Pls?? Bear with me, I love this show and this fandom...

You ran through the halls, ducking around Finders and fellowscientists, Exorcists, technicians, people from Central. You held a book and abundle of papers in your arms as you ran. You wanted to beat the clock. Youneeded to, for what you wished to do.

There were CROW ahead, crowded around the red headed man yousought out. You gasped as your foot caught on a stone. “Monsieur!” You stumbledand the book, along with the papers, fell to the floor. You swore and knelt topick them up, listening as heeled boots made their way towards you.

Cross knelt, his fingers carefully picking up the papers asyou gathered the book. “Perhaps you should be careful,” he commented. HisFrench melted into your ears. When you looked up, he smiled and your hearthammered. “Unless you wish to make falling for me a habit.”

“You haven’t changed,” you snapped. Your own French wasrough compared to the silk of his voice. You grabbed the papers from him as hechuckled. “I was hoping to catch you.”

“If you think speaking in French is going to help, it won’t,”growled a masked CROW.

You lifted your head to comment. Cross’s hands clasped yoursand helped you up. “It’s our native language,” he said. He kissed your fingers.His eyes bore into yours as he spoke. “English is not their strong suit.”

Ah. Shut up, his eyes said, and play along. You nodded andremembered to blush. He continued as thought the CROW weren’t around, tuggingyou to him, careful not to dislodge the book and papers a second time. One handheld your free one delicately, while the other drifted down over your backside.

“It’s been far too long,” he whispered. He tilted his headand pressed a kiss against your bare wrist.

You visibly bristled. “I have paperwork that Komui needs tohave filled out! About your innocence!” you exclaimed with a stutter. Cross’slips trailed down your arm. The CROW that had first spoken shifted uncomfortably.To your left, the guards parted and two pushed open a set of double doors. TheGeneral swept you across the floor and into the room – his room. The doors shutin the face of the CROW. You tilted your head enough to see them shimmer.

The bastard dipped his head and nipped at the skin of yourneck. You yelped.

“I was going to talk to you about how things went while youwere gone!” you exclaimed in English, “But not if you’re going to tease me!”Cross laughed as spun you away, planting you gently into a cushioned chair. “Idon’t speak English?” you asked. You pulled your glasses off and cleaned themwith your coat. “And a silence spell?” You motioned at the door with yourglasses. “What’s going on?”

His hands drifted up his face, one carding through his hairwhile the other removed his mask. “I’ll tell you,” he stated. He set the maskon the table before you and bent at the waist. His hands slid up the arms ofthe chair you sat in. “If you stay~”

“You’re insufferable,” you pointed out as you slid yourglasses on. His hands slid up and peeled the coat off your shoulders.

“You’ve said that for years and yet here you are,” hewhispered. He leaned close. “So tell me, my little spy,” His lips brushed yoursjust barely, “What have I missed?”

#dgm #d.gray-man #dgrayman #cross marian #cross marian x reader #cross marian/reader #Anonymous

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hela-avenger · 4 years

Text

poison & wine- last call

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1195

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N: I don’t know where this came from but it was definitely fun to write! Hope you enjoyed the angst train because by next week that ride will be over!

poison & wine masterlist

Black Widow Babe- 1 missed call

Hey, just came back from the mission and FRIDAY said you left without saying goodbye. I hope you’re doing ok. If Loki did something to you on that trip, let me know. It wouldn’t be my first time killing a royal prince. Call me back or just come back. Bye.

Wanda Woman- 1 missed call

Hi, love. I know Nat called but I thought I would call you too. I don’t know… Call it my sixth witchy sense but I feel like something’s wrong. Your room… It’s filled with some chaotic energy and I’m worried. I haven’t told anyone this but call me back and let me know if you’re ok. Maybe we can do brunch and talk about whatever is bothering you. Just know that we’re here for you. Love you.

Tony ‘IronMan’ Stank- 8 missed calls

Hey. I’ve been calling you and you keep ignoring my calls so here I am leaving a voicemail. Do people still do these things these days? I don’t know and I guess it doesn’t really matter cause I’m doing it.

I’m just worried about you. Barnes won’t tell me anything about you leaving and the Prince of Darkness has been awfully gloomy and I’m not saying it’s you but… Kid, I mean what happened out there? You left without saying goodbye which you never do and I… I’m just really worried.

I know you’re back at home trying to recover from what shall not be spoken but call me back. Let me know you’re alive. I… Well, you know.

The Mighty Thor- 1 missed call

Leave a message after a beep? Alright that seems quite simple, telephone lady. Waiting for a beep. Beep, beep, beep… This is taking too long. Perhaps I should try emaili-

Buchanan Barnes- 3 missed calls

Hi doll, had to sneak off to call you but it seems your phone is off and I get it. I understand why you have to disconnect, but everyone is worried about you. Nat and Wanda cornered me the other day and threatened to take my arm off if I didn’t tell them what I saw when you left but I’m not a trained spy for nothing. I can keep a secret which I assure you, I’ve kept it. Lips are sealed.

I just… I think you need to come back. Besides everyone being worried about you, I mean… I might not know the guy very well, but Loki is quite the recluse since he returned. We haven’t talked much but he did ask about you and Y/N… Just call me back, please.

Black Widow Babe- 4 missed call

Wanda Woman- 5 missed call

Tony ‘IronMan’ Stank- 14 missed calls

Unknown Number Peter Parkour- 1 missed call

Ah, Y/N! Hello! I have finally learned how to use a voicemail! Spiderboy-

-SpiderMAN

Man? But you are small. You are but a boy.

-Mr. Thor, please?

Very well, you are to be a very tiny Spiderman. Where was I going with this? How do I-

-No, don’t push that button-!

Tony ‘IronMan’ Stank- 22 missed calls

Capn’ Crunch (Stevie)- 1 missed call

Hi, Y/N. I know everyone’s been calling and I tried to give you the space you wanted but it’s been weeks since we last heard of you. Bucky assures me you’re fine but I can tell he’s not too sure about that either.

We all miss you here and I’m not trying to guilt trip you to come back but we do miss you... some more than others. I’m not going to name names but… I don’t know what happened up there in Asgard but I have a feeling that I might actually do and I… I’m trying to refrain from going all Captain to you but is running away the best option here? You have people who care about you and wish to support you here so please consider it.

Be safe wherever you are.

Buchanan Barnes- 5 missed calls

Tony ‘IronMan’ Stank- 37 missed calls

The Mighty Thor- 2 missed calls

HELLO! Ah, yes. I finally have managed it. Very tiny Spiderman was not as useful as I hoped he would be, but I have managed on my own! I hope you are doing well Lady Y/N. For my brother’s sake, I hope you are. I told him to leave you a voicemail but he refused. I don’t understand why he’s being quite cold lately. Haven’t seen him this way since we were children when father and I accidentally left him behind in one of our adventures.

I don’t know what occurred back in Asgard but it seems it must have been quite severe for Loki to be behaving this way. I was hoping you might offer some insight. Or well… I should have considered perhaps that Loki might have done something to you. That’s quite worrisome. Please do call me back or send me an email! My email is-

End of Audio Message.

Buchanan Barnes- 11 missed calls

Tony ‘IronMan’ Stank- 91 missed calls

Alright, kid. This is the last call I’m making. I… I’ve been calling you every day for the past few months trying to reach you. I have half the mind to fly out to your little getaway and YES I know where you’ve been this whole time. You think I don’t have the means to find your home estate?

Anyways, I’m tired. It’s four in the morning and I thought I’ll give it one last shot. I’ve been trying to reach you because well… I have some big news. I don’t know if you’ve been checking your mail or even checking your voicemail but I proposed to Pepper a while back.

We actually had an engagement party, and a bachelor party, and a bridal shower, and well you get the picture… We’ve missed you on a lot of things but you can make up for it by coming to the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. You should have gotten an invite and I’m really hoping you’ll come. You’re family, Y/N so just… Just check your mail and book a flight.

Y/N- 1 Missed Call

“Hey, I know it’s late and you’re probably asleep but I thought I should call you before I board my flight. I know I’ve been MIA but I… I just needed some time to myself. I know I’ve been gone for a long time but being home gave me that clarity I was looking for.

I uh… I actually started to read my mother’s journals again and as much as it hurt I could… I could just feel her with me again. I started to think about what she would say about this mess I found myself in and it made me realize that I left you behind. I basically abandoned you and for selfish reasons so I’m sorry. I hope I can make it up to you when I get back to the compound.

Maybe uh… I mean, if you don’t have a date already, we can go to Tony’s rehearsal dinner together. Just a thought so… so yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

poison & wine tag: @damalseer @just-the-hiddles @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @smollest-soybean @assassinoftheworld @readerbandit @doyoufeelikeayounggod @strangemcuvlogs @ha-tep @i-dont-know-eiither @gene-king @day-dreaming-fox @bn-studies @is-it-madness @devilbat @victor-criss-bish @skinny-macncheese @musicconversedance @baby-bunnyxn @fandoms-allovertheplace @marvelloonie @jinxjinxednova @queenmuahaha @accio-boys @eternalqueensworld @umlvk @roger-the-reindeer @punkrockhufflefluff @your-local-abyss @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rogerrhqpsody @imsad420 @pandacookieowo @justnerdystuffs @hanoi15 @oneprolificqueen @nikki-who-likes-coffee @fandomrelative @nikki419ninja @onedollarduck @help-i-need-a-social-life @ephemeraljade @catsladen @amwolowicz @captainmarvelnerd @thegirlbeyondtheuniverse @ddaeing @leftperfectionmoon

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-njorddottir @aoirohi @defunctcherrybomb @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @moonlightprime

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mochidrabbles · 6 years

Text

Last Words [The Arcana]

Title: Last Words

Pairing: LucioxOC

Fandom: The Arcana

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Minor spoilers, character death

The masquerade was a time for jubilation for all of Vesuvia. Normally, none would be more excited than Lucio himself, more than happy to strut about the castle with obnoxious grandeur as he watched the entire city gather to celebrate his special day: to celebrate him. For the first time in the masquerade's history, since Lucio had turned his own birthday into a national holiday, this wasn’t the case.

“Stuck in my room on my birthday.” The count had been sulking for the better part of the day, outraged by his confinement and even further outraged by the lack of faithful servants surrounding him. A few of the courtiers had checked in, only to duck out quickly in favor of the festivities and Nadia hadn’t visited once. She seldom had since he’d come down with the plague. The only person kind enough to keep him company, there when he needed it most, was Rae.

“What do those doctors think they’re doing down there? Damn that Devorak, wasting time.” His thanks to her, to perhaps the only true friend he had, had been to rant and rave. He’d spent the better part of the night complaining and Rae had been the only person he hadn’t directly scolded yet, threatening even the servants who brought him the best part of each meal the masquerade served. He could hardly eat in his state of weakness, but Lucio wanted no one to forget that he was still the star of this show - even if it seemed as though most of the city already had.

“Hey.” Rae, more long-suffering than usual in the face of Lucio’s current state, placed a soft hand on his arm, trying to ignore how sickly and cold his skin felt beneath her palm, “You have them working everyday and they have the best resources Vesuvia has to offer. They’ll find a cute soon.” Rae wasn’t sure who she was comforting more now: Lucio or herself.

Lucio could be insufferable, was more often than not. He was selfish, belligerent, sometimes stupid, but in all her years of knowing him Rae could see through all of it. She could see the scars that pushed him to be better, to constantly fight to prove himself, that fed his need to be adored. More than anyone she could see the good qualities that lurked beneath. He treated those closest to him, those most loyal, well. Even on his deathbed Lucio ensured Rae was taken care of, heaps of her favourite food and drink piled high on the grandiose nightstand sat next to the bed. Lucio was oft a pain in the ass, but no matter how she complained about him Rae couldn’t imagine what life would be like without him. She didn’t want to.

“Tch. Bastards are probably happy to watch me die, ready to claw their way in here and take my position.” Feaverish and angry, Lucio was testier than ever, “Well they can claw it from my cold, dead--” A cough cut him off, one turning into many as he was overtaken by yet another coughing fit. Rae rubbed his back, offering what little comfort she could as the count hunched over, too weak to fight against his illness. Lucio had always been proud, strong, refusing to show weakness. Seeing him so frail was frightening.

“Ah, shit.” Retracting the arm that had covered his mouth, finding it smeared with fresh blood Lucio slumped back against the ornate carving of his headboard. For the moment he was too exhausted to argue, spent by the coughing fit.

Pity and concern mingled in Rae’s eyes as she took a cloth from beside her. Dipping it in a basin of water she leaned forward to dab at Lucio’s lips, cleaning the blood that stained them red.

Lucio stared at Rae as she worked, cleaning his mouth before rinsing him arm. She was the only one left; Rae was the only person to stay beside him when he had nothing to offer. She was probably the only true friend he had - the only true friend he’d ever had. Lucio had always known it, but until faced with to so bruntly he’d never wanted to admit it.

“Hey…” Once he blood was gone, filthy red stain cleared from Lucio’s palled skin and dirty cloth discarded Rae turned to Lucio again, forcing a smile. He was grouchy, tired, and had been for days. Futile as it may have been, Rae wanted to try to cheer him up, even if just a little. She knew just the story. If this didn’t make him at least crack a smile, nothing would.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Asra and I--” Rae was cut off suddenly. Lucio, fueled by a sudden spike of anger that came as a surprise to both parties in the room, stood suddenly forcing Rae to follow suit. Her eyes were wide, round and scared as she felt the anger in Lucio’s gaze, made all the more intimidating by the burning, sickly red of his eyes.

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear about Asra!” He’d heard the name far too much in passing days. Asra, the magician who was supposed to help save him, use some hocus pocus ritual to restore his health. The entire castle was abuzz with talk of his ‘amazing feats’ and not a single person had a bad thing to say about him. Not even Rae.

“Asra this, Asra that! It’s all you ever talk about.” Lucio’s voice was raspy, strained, specks of blood flying from his lips as he shouted.

“Wh-- no it isn’t! He’s my friend and I haven’t seen him in forever since you’ve had me cooped up here with you! I miss him Lucio!” The confession came in anger as Rae planted her feet, narrowed her eyes and met the counts stare with a hard glare. She realized now how true that was. Asra was her friend, someone who’d always been there for her when she needed it. To be cut off from him completely even when he was so close was a lonely feeling.

Lucio froze for a moment, feeling his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. Rae was here for him… because she felt like she had to be? Lucio felt the hurt in his chest turn to anger, bitter and unbridled. Combined with his envy it was a messy mix that had Lucio’s chest heaving in fury.

“If you don’t want to be here then get out.” Of course she didn’t. Of course she’d rather be downstairs, taking advantage of her generosity like everyone else. Of course she’s rather be with Asra. Lucio cursed himself; he should have seen it before.

“What?” Unable to keep up with the count’s whirling thoughts Rae blinked up at him, “I never said--” Her confusion, doe-like eyes and shocked face had no bearing on Lucio. Not when he was like this. It almost made him angrier, that she couldn’t understand him.

“I said get out!” Lucio’s shout was punctuated by a crash as he set all the food piled on the end table to spill, throwing it to the floor in a mess of spilled foods and shattered dishes that had Rae scrambling to move away from the spread of the mess.

“Fine! Fuck you!” Hurt and angry, unable to understand Rae shouted back with equal ferocity. Hiking her skirts she turned from the room, slamming the door behind her and refusing to look back as she stormed down the hall. All she had wanted was to help, to make things better. Why did Lucio have to be like this?

Inside the room Lucio began to cough again, falling to his bed as his overspent limbs turned to jelly beneath him. Alone he was left to feel the blood trickle from his mouth, burn in his throat as he stared at the scene carved into the roof of his canopy bed. Soon enough. Soon enough he would be healthy. He’d be strong again and then he’d show them all… he’d make them all come crawling back to him then. He just needed to wait a little longer, get ready for this stupid ritual. Then they would all see.

In another wing of the castle Rae was finally reaching her room, wiping furiously at the most persistent of her tears as they spilled down her cheeks despite her best efforts to keep them. Shedding her clothes in favor of pajamas, curling into bed and hugging at her pillows, she cursed Lucio’s stubbornness, his selfishness. But she also cursed her own. He was sick, dying, and she’d left him all alone. But she couldn’t go back. She could only take so much, and Lucio had pushed too far. She couldn’t even hope to reconcile now - she wouldn’t be able to look at him. But perhaps in the morning… maybe the next sunrise would bring with it a new day.

Comforted enough by the thought Rae settled to bed, too angry, too exhausted to do anything but sleep. Despite her best hopes Rae’s sleep would be anything but peaceful that night. It would only be a few more hours before she was woken up by a frenzy of panic and activity only to find Lucio’s wing ablaze, onlookers screaming that the count was still inside. She’d realize then, staring up at the fire burning through one of the windows, that there would be no reconciliation; her argument with lucio would be the last conversation they would ever have.

With that weighing heavily on her heart, replaying painfully in her mind, Rae would fall to her knees and weep.

#the arcana #angst #death #lucio #friends oc #oc #characterxoc #lucioxoc #rae

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sassycassie-s-writing · 6 years

Text

Better Already

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Vine/YouTube + Avengers - Thomas Sanders

Rating: PG

Original Idea: My own post on my main blog about how Thomas is basically Tumblr’s older brother that everyone loves and looks up to.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I never had a brother, which is why this MC has female pronouns---because it’s most familiar to me, like it usually is, and I want a brother like Thomas. No disrespect for other genders or non-binary readers.

^^^^^

A weight dropped onto the stair next to me. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, kiddo?” Thomas asked.

I snorted. “You don’t have to call me that,” I retorted. “I'm not that much younger than you.”

“I know.”

“Channeling Patton to make me smile?”

Thomas chuckled and leaned back against the stair behind us. “Yeah I guess so. I miss playing him. The others too. But that… that was a long time ago.”

“A couple months isn’t a long time, Thomas.”

He gave me a smirk and a nudge. “Yes it is. Especially when you’ve abandoned what you love doing in order to keep yourself and those you love safe.” He paused. “But now’s not the time to talk about me giving up YouTube to be an Avenger. Now is the time where I point out that you never answered my question. Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

I sighed. “I'm probably going to die soon, Thomas,” I admitted.

“What? Why?”

There was a pause while I stared at my hands. “I was challenged—in front of half the city. Told me to meet him Friday at the power plant or he would destroy at least half the city. So I can stay here, let innocent people die, and lose the public’s trust forever; or I can meet up with him, fight, die, and then innocent people will still die and I won’t be there to do anything about it.” I looked my friend square in the face. “I can’t beat him, Thomas! I've tried so hard. I'm not strong enough on my own and I can’t bring someone else with me or he’ll rampage.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and started to cry. “I made a huge mistake, taking up a mask and a suit when I got my powers young. I should have waited.”

“Kid, you’re twenty.”

I squished up my nose. “I know that. But I've been under that mask for a little over two years. I just… I wasn’t ready. And I'm still not.” I clenched my hands into fists in my jeans. “Thomas, I don’t know what to do!”

“Do whatever you think is right.” He patted my knee. “Remember that one time we watched Rogue One and you started crying because you didn’t know if you could ever believe in a cause enough to lay down your life for it?” he inquired gently. I nodded. “This is your moment. Do you believe in that mask enough to die for innocent people? Sure you could back out of this fight and do more good in the future, but that guilt would weigh on your consciousness forever. I know you. And you know what? I believe in you. I believe in that mask. You put it on and become unstoppable. You can beat him.”

I took my head off his shoulder to bury it in my hands. “I've tried to beat him, Elixir, and it never works!” I exclaimed.

He sighed. “Look, sweetheart—” The endearment was condescending and sarcastic. “—you’re a lot stronger than you think. The only person who ever doubts your power and your strength is you. You're the only one holding you back.” He ran his fingers comfortingly through my hair, smoothing it out. “I know you can defeat him. You just have to accept and embrace everything you can do. Be everything you are—and be brave.”

“But civilians—”

“Remember what Cap told us when we first joined? With this life, we save as many people as we can, and sometimes that doesn’t mean everyone. But if we can’t accept that, then next time, maybe no one gets saved.”

“How very utilitarian, Spock,” I retorted sarcastically. “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, and all that.”

“Hey, between you and me, sista, you are Spock, not me,” he snapped playfully.

I smiled, feeling the tension of anxiety and nerves in my chest ease away. I sighed and looked over at Thomas. “You always know how to make everyone feel better,” I observed. He gave me a little smirk and a shrug.

“I think it’s a side-effect of my powers. Pain is pain—and I'm a healer. I heal pain.”

“No. It’s more than that. You really care and want us all to be okay. You have a good heart and a kind personality.” I paused, searching for my next words. “My older sister doesn’t like Captain America because she doesn’t believe that people can be all good all the time. But Cap isn’t. She just doesn’t know that. You're the closest I've ever seen someone come to that ideal, and I've seen your dark side. And it scared me. You're terrifying when you're angry. It’s impressive, to be honest.”

Thomas slapped his knees, stood up, and offered me his hand. “You're cute, kiddo. Now c’mon. Let’s go cheer you up more and make sure you're ready to face him when the time comes. You're going to come out on top. And, with any luck, no one will die.” I took his hand and let him haul me to my feet. His grin was so cute. “See? You’ve taken the first step to victory already!”

“Okay Roman,” I teased.

He laughed. “Hey, they're all still up here somewhere.” He tapped his forehead with one finger. “One day they may even make a return to YouTube.”

“Imagine if your powers weren’t healing, but instead you could make them manifest in the real world.”

Thomas’ eyes widened. “Oh my goodness. Can you imagine though? Without a script to follow, they could be insufferable! All talking over each other all the time without the magic of editing to rein them in. That would be simultaneously interesting and overwhelming.”

“Really? Pretty sure that without being bound to a script or a set they’d all just do their own thing. Roman would be singing Disney and show-tunes somewhere, Logan would be reading, Patton would be browsing pictures of puppies, and Virgil would be sulking either in a corner or on a swing in a park somewhere, just waiting until you need him.”

“Fair point, I suppose. But now is still not the time to be talking about all that! It’s in the past for now, and that’s where it’s going to stay until I can return to YouTube safely. Now we need to be focusing on you. Because you have a big day ahead of you on Friday and I want to make sure you know that you can win.” He offered me his elbow. I took it and let him stroll down the stairs with me. “See, the thing is, I gotta be your big brother right now and make sure you know your worth and stuff. I never had a little sister so I'm claiming you. And yeah I tease, but you do too, and at the end of the day, I'm going to make sure you know I love and support you—and I’ll always believe in you.”

“Gee, your codename should be SuperBrother instead of Elixir,” I teased to prove his point.

He laughed. “Yup. So what do you say, little sis, you gonna let me help you beat your big-bad?”

“You… wanna help me?”

“Of course. It’s not like he can kill me. I’ll stay out of the way, for the most part, but when you need me, I’ll be there. We’re a team.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah we are,” I decided.

He grinned. “There we go. That’s the feisty hero I know. You're going to be fine. A little bruised at the end, maybe, but that’s nothing I can’t fix.”

“And you know I'm not gonna let you.”

Thomas snorted. “Ah, yes. You're a stickler for your pain tolerance.”

“Well I've spent years building it up. I'm not losing it now because my surrogate big brother can just zap away my boo-boos.” I ended my sentence with a baby-talk voice. Thomas rolled his eyes as we reached the bottom of the stairs and went for a walk around the building.

“Don’t worry, you know. ‘Cause it’ll all be okay in the end. You’ll see this through.”

“Thanks Thomas. I feel better already.”

“Good.”

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pirate-patton · 7 years

Text

Title: Curiosity Killed the Cat; Satisfaction Brought Him Back Tag List: @undertakershairline @mewsicalmiss @romananalogicality @rose-gold-roman @thegoldenmink @the-prince-and-the-emo @theawesomestofsauces @jellyjam24 @sabriel-fanboy-83 @the-sanders-sides @amazable01 @milk-withtwosugars @bbcanimefangirl @analogically-prinxiety @asexual-trashbag @calz-craze @gayfagg @gracefullyinsanedancingunicorn @phandemoniumclub @virgils-anxiety @natalie-wheres-the-tampons @hrtnsolofytube @greymane902 @ashrain5 @fandom-screamings @mira-jadeamethyst @cefmua56 @colie7700 @madd-catter @leesacrakon @a-blog-just-for-sanders @doesdanielhowelisgay @viva-la-nordics @just-fic-me-up @justanotherpurplebutterfly @thebeautyofthomas

Virgil had a notebook. A kind of worn out, once black notebook with purple pen scratches all across the front. The others rarely got to see this notebook, but they were well aware of its existence. For the most part, no one dared to ask what it was for or if they could see it. No one, not even Patton, was curious enough to risk the little bit of trust and confidence building between them and the anxious side.

That is…until Virgil got more confident and trusted them more.

The notebook made its way out of his room more and more, finding its way onto the coffee table, dining table, the counters, and the sofa much more often. Every now and then one of them would catch Virgil with his knees to his chest scribbling away in the book, and just seeing it drove them crazy.

To say that Logan wasn’t dying to know what was in the book would have been the biggest lie ever told in the mind palace. As the logical side, he was also the side that enjoyed learning the most. Learning, observing…dying of curiosity. Secrets were not his thing. They were not his “jam.” What was his “jam” was figuring out why Virgil hid the notebook when he was using it.

And now, he had an opportunity.

“Be right back,” Virgil mumbled. The anxious side hopped up from his spot on the other end of the sofa and dragged his notebook into his spot. Logan watched him leave and round the corner to his room, and it didn’t take long for all of that curiosity to come rushing to the forefront of his mind.

What could be in this mysterious notebook? Drawings? Logan thought of all the possibilities for Virgil Drawings. From a Tim Burton-esque style all the way down to an Invader Zim style. Mainly monsters or gore…or possibly he’d be full of surprises and fill the notebook with drawings that calmed him? Kittens, puppies, maybe a few koalas or red pandas? Or maybe he was a classic early 2000s emo child and filled his notebook with stitched-up, bandaged-up, and bleeding hearts?

Perhaps the notebook contained his thoughts. What a trip that would be. Thoughts and analyses of ever scenario Thomas encountered. It’d probably be a mish-mash and assorted lists of words indecipherable to anyone but Virgil.

But then…Virgil had said before that he wrote. Sonnets, at least. Could this notebook be his writings…?

Logan caught his hand gravitating toward the book, and he snatched the offending digits back against his chest. No, he couldn’t. He would not be the first to break. Virgil would share the contents of the book when he felt he was ready, and Logan would just have to respect that.

…But he wouldn’t even know if Logan took a quick peak just to see what Virgil used the notebook for…

…But that would still be abusing Virgil’s trust. He left the book there out of trust.

…But-!

“I’m back,” Virgil announced, throwing himself down on top of the book. He pulled it back out from underneath himself and opened it up to wherever he’d left off. “Needed a different blue.”

Ah. Drawings. Had to be.

…Right?

Logan’s curiosity had yet to die off a week later. All four of them sat around the dining table for breakfast, and after eating they all stuck around the kitchen, taking the day as a lazy day. Virgil stayed sat at the table hunched over his notebook, a purple pen in his hand this time.

Logan watched him, barely paying attention to Roman as the creative side spat off about whatever adventure he’d been on the day before and how he’d hurt his neck rescuing some…royalty, Logan assumed. No matter, it wasn’t like there’d be a quiz.

“Are you even listening to me, Logan?!” Roman whined.

“What?” Logan turned to face him, holding back laughter at the frustrated look on Roman’s face.

“While you simply read about these kinds of adventures, I’m living them!” Roman exclaimed in that whiny voice of his that Logan so detested. “Why, you’re more interested in whatever Wednesday Addams over there is doing than my actually interesting story!”

“Falsehood, I was paying neither of you any mind!” Logan insisted. At this point, Virgil had looked up, squinty-eyed as ever, to figure out what the heck was going on with these two. Logan looked over at him when he heard a snicker, and he caught sight of lines and lines and lines and lines of words. So, he didn’t draw in the notebook; it was for writing.

…But writing what?!

Before he could figure it out, Virgil flipped the book shut and got to his feet, tucking the notebook in his jacket. “I’m gone; you two are way too noisy.”

“Look what you did, Roman.”

“ME?!”

“Alright, you two, who wants to help me make muffins?!” Patton called as he bound into the dining room holding up a recipe book.

Now Logan was just getting frustrated. He’d been so good up to this point! Now he had a glimpse of the inside of the notebook and all of its overwhelming amounts of blue and purple and green writing, and he desperately wanted to read it. Unfortunately, the unmade muffins were getting the brunt of his anger.

“Logan, be careful stirring the blueberries!” Patton’s increasingly shrill concern snapped Logan back, and he looked down at the bowl before deciding that, yep, he’d done a good job mixing. “I will take that…” Patton said, slowly removing the bowl from Logan’s hands.

Logan groaned and dropped his head onto the counter, gently banging his forehead against the corner. He couldn’t take this anymore. He was going to lose it.

“Is there any reason you’re suddenly so grumpy?” Patton asked as he scooped the muffin batter out into paper liners.

“It’s…nothing…” Logan said.

“Now you and I both know that’s not true. Has it got something to do with Virgil’s notebook?”

“You’ve noticed…”

“Well, it’s not every day you lose control of your curiosity, Mr. Calm and Collected.” Patton had a point, Logan supposed. Why did Logan care so much? Before this point he’d chalked it up to him being naturally curious as apart of who he was, but now… “Why don’t you just ask Virgil if you can read it?”

Logan shook his head rapidly, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter heavily. “Curiosity killed the cat, remember,” he said.

“Ah, but satisfaction brought it back.” Patton smirked and gave Logan a wink, nudging his side to make Logan move away from the drawer he needed in. “If you don’t want to ask him, fine. But I’m sure he’d share…”

“Why do act so confident about that?”

“No reason…” The grin on Patton’s face was more than concerning, but Logan could only take one obsession at a time.

Logan stood in the doorway to the commons room just watching Virgil scribble away in his notebook. He had to ask, just say something to end this yearning. But…why was he so nervous? His stomach felt off, not sick, but wrong, the longer he watched Virgil write.

Virgil moved and rested his cheek in his right hand, and wow now it looked like he was doodling. Logan covered his mouth to fight off a smile, wondering why in the world Virgil was so cute like that. This was all too much; Logan had to put an end to it. Ugh.

“Verge – Virgil,” Logan called, making the anxious side jump.

“Just use an air horn next time, why don’t you!”

“My apologies,” Logan said, moving farther into the room. He gingerly took a seat not too far from Virgil, just an arms’ length between their knees, and he looked at the notebook. Virgil followed his eyes and snatched the book, slamming it shut. “So…” Logan started, daring himself to just ask already, “…what is it that you fill that mysterious notebook of yours with?” he asked slowly. Finally, finally the words were out and the answer, be it rejection or truth, was right in front of him. Hallelujah.

“What does it matter to you?” Virgil asked, guarding the book with his knees.

“Well…” Think of a good reason! “As we are all making a better effort to get to know you and include you, I should think that a good way to do just that would be learning about what you can and do put to paper.” Nailed it.

“Ummm…” Virgil’s eyes darted back and forth, never landing on Logan. He concentrated them on his socks eventually, going silent. Logan could watch the gears turning in that nervous mind, and his heart ached to know what was going on in there. Gah, what was wrong with him?! “I –“ Oh? “I guess there’s some stuff you can look at…”

…Satisfactory.

Logan watched as Virgil flitted through the pages, scanning quickly yet carefully each one until he found one he was willing to share. Virgil handed the book over and dropped his face so only his eyes were visible over his knees. Logan greedily looked over the page, taking in every single thing about it.

The page was very brittle, very fragile. How old was this notebook? So many things on the backside of the page had been scratched out and scribbled out, to the point that holes poked through to the side he read. Navy blue ink filled his page, which was good because at least he could comfortably read navy blue. Then, with the page absorbed, he could finally read.

…Poetry. Huh. And not sonnets.

Keeping me grounded must be an awful job, Though you do it well. I’m whiny, insufferable, and unbearable, But you take on my personal Hell And give me a minute at most in your Heaven.

“OK, that’s enough!” Virgil snatched the book away, face red as could be.

It wasn’t enough, it couldn’t be enough. Five lines that read like that was basically a cliffhanger, and it wasn’t fair. But, Logan had to respect Virgil’s boundaries. No matter how frustrating they were. Maybe…maybe he could test his limits? “You are a very good writer, Virgil,” he said.

“Thanks, I guess…” Virgil mumbled, tucking the notebook back into his jacket.

“You must write from experience?” There, Logan threw out his line, and he hoped Virgil hooked on.

“Yeah, what else would I have? Roman’s the creative one…” Virgil said. His sleeve found its way into his mouth and he looked at the ground. Great, he was anxious and uncomfortable, and he was making Logan feel bad.

Just. Not bad enough.

“Who were you writing about in that poem?” Logan asked.

“…It doesn’t matter.”

Oh, but it did. It very much did matter who Virgil was writing about, because it was killing Logan. He was sure he’d burst any minute and now he understood exactly how those curious cats felt when they were ready to just die.

“Well, it must matter if whoever it was does so much for you,” Logan said.

“Don’t worry about it!”

“And that is supposed to make me not?”

“Really just – it doesn’t matter, Logan!”

“Then why do write them to mean so much?!”

“Because I just felt like it!”

“Well if you felt like it, then you must believe the words you put down, which means –“

“Would you stop!”

Logan shut up. Clamp – jaw screwed shut – no more talking for him. He really wanted to ask why it was big deal, but he refrained. An angry Virgil was a dangerous Virgil. Possibly. None of them had ever seen him truly angry.

“Look…” Virgil took a deep breath and brought back out his notebook. “Everything in here is really personal. I just…I dunno why I even let you look at it at all; I guess I trust you, but…maybe not for everything.”

Well, just rip out his heart and stomp on it. Not like Logan wanted that useless thing, anyway. “You can trust me.”

Virgil bit his lip, nearly tearing a hole in it if his force was anything to judge by. God, why couldn’t he just trust Logan with all of his secrets, PLEASE Virgil!

“It’s you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The poem, you idiot!”

Oh. Oh! Oh. That explains a lot. “May I read the rest of it, then?” Logan asked, hoping with all his hope that Virgil would say yes.

“I…nu-uh. Not – not yet.”

He should’ve assumed that answer. Of course, Logan still had to be there for Virgil. He had to live up to the poem and be what Virgil saw in him. His anchor, the one that grounded him. The one that gave Virgil a piece of Heaven.

“I will not pry any more, I promise,” Logan said, pretending his useless hunk of heart didn’t leap when Virgil gave him a smile. “So, would you want to watch a movie?”

“Wanna watch Scooby Doo?” Virgil asked.

“If that is what you want, then yes.”

It didn’t take long for the two to get comfortable on the sofa, Zombie Island starting on the television. Virgil slumped against Logan, resting his head on the logical side’s shoulder. Logan rested his head on top of Virgil’s, and he now realized what was exactly meant by the end of that famous phrase. No, he didn’t get all of his answers, and he still had questions, but for the moment he was happy with what he knew. Virgil trusted him with a little snippet of his mind, and nothing could be more satisfying in that moment than that.

A/N: HA YOU THOUGHT THEY WERE GONNA MACK ON EACH OTHER DIDN’T YOU maybe one day. this is so long. i haven’t written something this long in forever. my brain hurts

#analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #I'M NOT EVEN SURE ANYMORE IF THIS IS GOOD OR MAKES SENSE #UGHHHH

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