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seeingivy · 3 months

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out of the woods

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest things.

because despite it all, if anyone was allowed to fall straight into despair – if anyone had the right to – it would be him.

but he simply can’t.

only because every time he finds himself at the edge of the cliff, there’s always something pulling him back.

a bratty six year old with spiky hair, his smiley older sister, or you – his beloved coworker that he, by the grace of god, charmed right into his hand. a bored salesman, an over-enthusiastic pink-haired high school student, and the ingredients to rice balls.

he supposes that’s why the words don’t hit him. that every other time, there were two, four, or six hands pulling him back. but the depths of this won’t impact anyone the way it would impact him. that he’d fall on his own this time.

there would be a pair of hands missing.

all he can think about is that the chairs in the ward are rather uncomfortable, that all hospitals have the same, shitty fluorescent lights, and that megumi’s probably wondering why the two of you haven’t called him to check on him after his mission yet.

that you would have made some shitty joke about sitting in his lap instead of sitting in the chairs, that you’d complain the lighting in the room was too dingy to take any good pictures, and that you’d call megumi the second you knew he was home.

“so when will she remember?” gojo asks.

shoko looks at him, steely eyes staring back into his, and it’s enough to push him over the edge. he can tell there won’t be any pulling this time.

“we have no idea of knowing when she’ll be out of the woods. it could be three days for all we know.” shoko states.

“or three years.” gojo states.

shoko swallows hard.

“or three years.” shoko affirms.

satoru realizes there’s three stages to it, two weeks after the fact.

first, the slow walk to the edge of the cliff, with everything looming below him – the mere fact that he could sense that something went wrong when kugisaki returned from her mission alone.

second, the pause right at the edge, where the rocks begin to crumble under his feet. there’s a wide expanse in front of him, ice cold water that he could plunge into at any second, and he can slightly feel himself leaning forward – someone telling him straightforwardly, shoko’s warm hands on his shoulders when he explained.

and lastly, the plunge. it’s cold air obliterating his ears as he falls, the crush so hard that he can barely stand when it happens. and he makes no efforts to stand back up once he’s fallen, because for all he knows, his limbs are broken – when he has to sleep in his bed without you for the first time.

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest things, until he doesn’t. because the woman he’s spent four years loving doesn’t even remember who he is.

the first thing you remember is icy blue eyes. in some object permanence, child-like type of way, it’s the only thing that makes you feel safe now.

that and the fact that he’s always here.

“okay, y/n. can you tell us what you remember?”

shoko is standing across from you – gloved hands on her clipboard as she holds her pen firmly in her hand.

“my name is y/n l/n. i’m a jujutsu sorcerer and a teacher at jujutsu tech. i lost my memory three months ago on a mission with one of my students when i got struck by a curse.”

you try not to visibly wince. or make long pauses. only because it makes shoko and satoru’s faces droop a little more when you do. recalling the memories gets easier, more repetitive as time goes on, but it still feels like a warm sting rod is hitting the raw parts of your brain at times.

“do you remember the student’s name?” shoko asks.

“kugisaki.”

“okay, that’s good. do you know who we are?” she asks.

the instruction is helpful. the questions feel like a soft guidance – like each of your memories has been placed in a room that you need to unlock and that she’s presenting you right at the doorstep of the room.

“you’re shoko. my doctor. but we were friends before in school.” you add.

“that’s right. what about him?”

you look over at satoru, at the way he’s stiffly sitting in the chair next to you.

every time you look at him, the smiles are always genuine. soft and sweet – always accompanied with a gentle nod to encourage you. but you can tell from his posture, from the darkness under his eyes, that it must bother him all greatly.

though, he has every right to be upset, to be tired.

“that’s satoru. he was here when i woke up. and he’s my husband.”

shoko scratches on the clipboard before she gives you a smile.

“that’s good. anything else?”

you frown.

“no. no, i don’t think so.” you murmur.

she gives you a nod, as she sets the clipboard down. and when she starts rummaging through her drawers, you feel your heart sink at what comes next.

“wait. wait, can we not do that today?”

shoko looks back at you, quickly flickering her gaze to satoru, before she meets your eyes again.

“it’s really best if we try little by little, everyday. i need to be careful when we use reverse cursed technique on something so malleable as a brain and memories, so it needs to be in small amounts. but consistent. we can’t skip and lose precious time.”

you look over at satoru, reaching for his wrist. his skin is searing and warm under your fingertips, and you squeeze hard over his pulse point.

please.

satoru gives you a nod, before sighing, and looking back up at shoko.

“can i talk to her alone?” he asks.

shoko gives him a curt nod, before shuffling out of the room and sliding the door closed. you look back at satoru, as he gestures for you to talk.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position with your friend….i mean, our friend.” you clarify.

“s’okay, bug. what’s wrong?” he murmurs.

satoru watches as you squint your eyes, an elongated pause in your response.

one of shoko’s directions to him was to try to sprinkle normalcy in as much as he could – nicknames, memories, common phrases – in hopes that something would trigger in your memory and help you remember.

he’s supplied you with each story when you don’t remember and he can tell that you’re trying to commit them all the memory again. to retrieve the memories that he’s told you.

“bug.” you state.

“that’s right.”

“because…”

“we were on a mission and-” satoru adds.

“and the curse was a bug.” you finish.

satoru smiles brightly. it almost feels like praise, when he looks at you so warmly. when you can remember something.

“big insect type thing.” satoru confirms.

“and i hate bugs. so you started calling me bug because…”

you frown.

“i forgot why you did that.” you state.

satoru scoffs.

“it’s called flirting, princess. though, that was never your forté.”

you smile.

“you have horrible game.” you respond.

you can tell that the tiny gripes make satoru really happy. you recall shoko telling you a story about how it related to something from before, but you can’t really recall exactly what it was. regardless, the smile you always get feels good.

“oh yeah?” he asks.

“mhm. you think calling the girl you like a bug is flirting?” you state.

“girl i love. and you can’t even accost me for it, because it worked. we’re married, idiot.”

the blunt admission makes your chest hurt. only because you can tell that he means it earnestly.

and that it must be painstakingly true – that satoru gojo loves you – because he’s still sitting here three months later, when you can barely remember his name at times. or the fact that you clearly must have been in a very loving relationship with him if he’s still sitting here with you when he could, and maybe should have, run.

you squeeze hard on his pulse point again, your hands still curled around his wrist. he uncurls his hand from your hold before locking his fingers in with yours and squeezing your hand back.

“you’re like a space heater, satoru.” you state.

“it’s part of my charm. when we still slept in the same bed, you’d always put your ice cold feet on my legs and try to steal my warmth.” he states.

“and you’d let me?” you ask.

he smiles.

“and i’d let you.” he affirms.

you swallow hard.

“sorry. i’ll do the treatment thing. i just hate how it makes me feel after. s’kind of like…my brain got fried? and sometimes it jumbles things up more so i feel like i’ve barely made any progress. and….and i want to remember you all really badly i just-”

you feel the warmth on your cheek this time, his nimble fingers transferring warmth to your face this time.

“we know. just take your time, okay? we’re not going anywhere.”

six months after the fact, satoru throws you a birthday party.

it’s hard not to hold onto him like a tether when you go out in big crowds – the overstimulation nauseating at times. and it makes your chest swell that he firstly, realizes it, and second, refuses to leave your side because of it. you lock your fingers in with his as he lightly guides you through each of the people in the room.

“y/n sensei!”

you swallow hard as four people present themselves to you, a harsh squeeze on satoru’s fingers. he obliges quickly, a hand on your back as you shake your head. pink hair, brown eyes.

“you’re choso?” you ask.

you watch his face fall quickly, before he shakes it off.

“no, no. this is choso. but you were close, he’s my brother! we talked about him last time i saw you.” he responds, gesturing to the boy at his left.

“right. i’m sorry. it’s todo.” you state.

“no, no. he’s todo.” the boy responds again, this time gesturing to the boy at his right.

you feel another hand loop around you – cold hands on your shoulders – that you welcome. that you easily recognize as one of the other constants, besides satoru.

“ignore yuuji. and i promise, it’s just as confusing when you can remember it too.” megumi states.

you smile.

“are you flattering me, megumi?” you ask.

satoru reaches forward, and much to megumi’s dismay, flicks his forehead.

“you’re such a mama’s boy.”

“oh, leave him alone, satoru.” you state.

the group of them smile, even the ends of megumi’s mouth upturning, as satoru feigns shock by clutching his hands to his chest. you give them all a smile as they break up into their own conversation.

satoru gestures for you to follow him into the kitchen and you give the group of them a smile as you walk away. you push yourself onto the counter as satoru reaches for the birthday hat and a tiny little book before he makes residence in between your legs.

“okay, you ready, bug?” he asks.

“for?”

“you love to take pictures. lots of them. you’re kind of the sentimental type. so…”

satoru hands you the book as you start to flip through all the pages. each one has four little polaroids in it – of you and him, megumi sprinkled in here, with little captions on each of them.

new year’s 2021

megumi’s sweet sixteen

shotgun wedding :D

“shotgun wedding?” you ask.

“we had a quickie court wedding before we actually got married because we couldn’t wait. anyways! we have to-”

“wait.” you state.

satoru stops, bright blue eyes staring into yours expectantly. you can tell that he’s trying to brush it off quickly from the way he’s jittery as he shakes the camera in his hands.

“i know you don’t like to remember memories like this one because they make you sad but-”

“they don’t make me sad.” satoru states.

“don’t- don’t lie. i can hear you crying sometimes in the other room after we talk. and i feel bad but, but maybe it’ll click or something?” you ask.

satoru sighs, before giving you a nod. and he recounts one of the best days of his life, in as much detail as he can.

“what if we got married tomorrow?” you ask.

satoru looks over at you, your glasses still perched on your nose as you work through the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. satoru always thought that it was a little bit corny that you did it right before you went to bed, like a little elderly lady, but knew better than to poke fun at your “enrichment time in your enclosure” as you so poignantly termed it.

“huh?” he asks.

“like. went to court. got married.” you shrug.

satoru reaches for the newspaper, before quickly shoving it straight to the side – not short of any protests from you – as he crawls straight into your lap, nose only a few inches away from yours.

“i was still doing that, idiot.” you state, cupping his face in your hands as you squeeze hard.

“you want to marry me?” he asks, voice laced with excitement.

you scoff.

“are you dumb? we’re engaged, satoru.”

“but you want to marry me. tomorrow?” he asks.

satoru watches as you pause, eyes so full of love that it makes his chest hurt.

“dunno. was just thinking about it.”

“and?”

“stop trying to get me to say something cute.” you state.

“so you admit it. there’s something cute to say?”

you smile, before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“no.” you state.

“c’mon. we’ll do it tomorrow if you tell me. i’ll wear a nice suit, you can wear that silky white dress you have. have sushi with megs after, he can be our witness. pick up rings, get a bouquet on the way.”

you smile brightly.

“you’ll really do it?” you ask.

“of course. s’nothing i wouldn’t do for you.” he whispers.

you lean forward, pressing a warm kiss to his lips.

“i just don’t like that you’re not my husband already. and i get the whole big wedding and clan members and blah blah blah but…i just want to be married to you now. i don’t really care how it happens, i just want that day to be here already.”

satoru smiles, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

“it’s settled then. we’re getting married tomorrow, bug.” he responds, before pushing off of you and shuffling under the sheets.

you smile hard, following suit by placing your glasses on the nightstand and curling up into his arms.

“s’bad luck to sleep in the same bed? because that means i’ll see you tomorrow morning?” you ask.

“maybe. but who's going to keep your feet warm if i don’t sleep next to you?”

“very good point, satoru gojo.”

you look back down at the picture, pressing your fingers against the polaroid wrapped in the plastic. the two of you stayed true to your word – a plain but white dress and a simple suit – with your arms wrapped around his neck as you both cheese into the camera.

you note that glittering necklace around satoru’s neck, as you press your fingers to the chain around yours. you had the necklace when you woke up, the only other jewelry you had besides the golden little band around your ring finger – which you assumed was the wedding ring satoru gave you when you got married.

“you have one of these too?” you ask.

satoru smiles, before reaching into his shirt and pulling out the necklace. and surely but not, he has the same necklace as you with the little paper airplane charm hanging at the end.

“we couldn’t find rings on the way to the courthouse. so you picked these shitty airplane necklaces from one of the stands on the way there.” he states.

you smile, as you look down at the picture.

“and we ate with megumi after?”

“uh huh. he got really mad at us after. you kind of whined that you didn’t get a first dance so i decided to move all the furniture around to make room and kind of broke his science fair project.”

“oh my god. no wonder that kid hates you.”

“shut up. we stayed up fixing it. and he doesn’t hate me. he actually danced with us a little bit too – though it was definitely against his will.” satoru adds.

“you tease him too much. leave the poor baby alone.” you state.

satoru’s eyes go wide as he places his hands on your shoulder, the look on his face so excited as he smiles.

“y/n?”

you raise your eyebrows.

“yeah?”

his face falls just as fast.

“oh. nothing.”

you frown.

“what happened?”

“nothing. it’s stupid, i just-”

“it’s not stupid! what is it?” you ask.

he looks at you, before pulling back a little.

“i thought you remembered for a second. that’s always the line you use when i tease him – leave the poor baby alone.”

you frown.

“sorry.” you whisper.

he shrugs.

“s’okay. it’s kind of nice if you think about it.” he states.

“how?”

“well. it’s obvious that big parts of us are shaped by the people that are around us. your best friends, your co-workers, your partners.”

you reach for his hand.

“you wonder how much of it is the stuff you experienced that makes you act the way that you do and how much of it is actually you, you know?” he states.

“exactly! sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt, but-but i think about that all the time. like if i can’t remember, will i still be the same person i was before? the person you all loved? or if this is going to change me so drastically that i’ll be someone new.”

satoru smiles.

“the former.”

“huh?”

“you’ll be the same person you were before. cheesy as hell, but the cuteness will make up for it.”

you roll your eyes.

“how are you so sure?”

he pauses, before placing his hand in your palm.

“one of my favorite things about you is that you were, or are, really compassionate. we always joked that megumi was our kid, but really. you were like his mom – understood him in ways i didn’t, always knew what he was thinking and how to fix it too.” he states.

“yeah?”

“and one of the things megumi hates most is when i tease him in front of yuuji. s’got a big crush on him.” he states.

you look over at the two of them, at megumi and yuuji laughing at choso three feet away and try your best to recall every memory of the two of them together. if megumi always smiled so brightly when he was around him.

“you got real mad at me. told me to leave your poor baby alone. you’ve always cared for him in that way and i can tell that you still do. you might not remember him, but he’s still your baby. you might not remember who you are but you’re still you.”

it’s silent.

“you’ll be the same. you’re still going to be the girl i loved and you’re still going to be my wife.” he whispers, warm tears in his eyes.

his voice wavers on the latter part of the statement.

almost like he doesn’t believe it.

you place your hands on his shoulders and squeeze hard.

“satoru.” you whisper.

he shakes his head.

“sorry. i didn’t mean to say it like that, i just-” he states.

you place your hands on his cheeks and squeeze hard.

“from the type of guy you are, i can tell that i probably fell in love with you all over again hundred times in one day.”

satoru smiles, a tear spilling as you quickly wipe the wetness on his cheek.

“this isn’t any different. i’m not sure about a lot of things, but-but this i am. your eyes are the first thing i remember from when i woke up. i’m almost positive they’ll be the last thing i remember when we’re old wrinkly people too.” you murmur.

satoru wraps his arms around you, tucking your face into his neck, as he squeezes you hard into his frame. you can feel his heart racing underneath you, his pulse point rapid as he slowly breathes in. and surely, it comes to a standstill.

“what did i say? told you that you’d still be cheesy as hell.” satoru states.

you scoff.

“does the cuteness make up for it?” you ask.

“a hundred percent.” satoru responds, before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

satoru takes the picture, after snagging one of the little party hats and securing it on top of your hair, and quickly scribbling on the developed polaroid before tucking it into the book. satoru runs off to the little cake, quickly lighting all the candles as you take the quick second to look down at the picture.

a very forgetful bug turns twenty-six <;3

“hey, i’m home!”

satoru shuffles back into the apartment, arms aching and sore from his mission, as he rummages through the kitchen. the fridge is empty leave for a few condiments and he makes a mental note to order takeout.

“did you want to order something?” he calls out, halfheartedly registering you walking towards him as he shuts the fridge door.

he’s taken aback when he feels your arms wrap around him from behind, your arms nearly squeezing the breath out of him.

“ow, bug. you’re hugging too hard.”

he turns around only to find tearfilled eyes staring back at him, immediately dropping his phone in his hand to cup your cheeks.

“woah, hey. you okay?” he asks.

you shake your head, bringing your eyes to your sockets to rub the wetness away. you can barely say the words, the pounding in your head and racing in your chest not coming to the standstill.

“what’s wrong?” he asks.

“do-do you remember the first time you cried in front of me?” you ask.

satoru pulls back, albeit a little bit confused, as he frowns.

“um. let me try and think. maybe at our real wedding?” he asks.

“no. no, that’s not right.” you whisper.

“huh?”

“you cried for the first time when megumi got hurt when he was out with nobara and yuuji. he didn’t call either of us afterwards and you were sad that maybe he didn’t need you anymore.” you state.

satoru hums in response.

“that’s right. i totally forgot. idiot got twenty stitches and didn’t think to tell either of us.”

you deflate, putting your hands on his shoulders as you squeeze.

“satoru.”

“what?”

“you forgot. but i remembered.” you whisper.

satoru brings his hands to your sides, squeezing hard as you see his eyes - icy blue - filled with warm tears.

“y/n. are-are you serious?” he whispers.

“yeah. s’all kind of fuzzy and i have a really bad headache but i remember you and-”

you can barely finish your sentence because satoru’s hands – now cupped around your neck – have pulled his face flesh with yours and he’s pressing his lips to yours. it’s enough to shock you to your core, nearly stumbling in his arms, as you feel his tears start to fall onto your face.

“you’re back. you-you remember me.” he whispers.

“yeah. yeah, i am. i do.” you whisper, nearly hiccuping from the lack of air reaching your lungs from the tears.

you rest your forehead against his, the two of you heaving in tandem as satoru runs his hands all over you – on your cheeks, your biceps, the length of your back.

“i know that it was still you before. and-and i still loved you the same, of course i did – you’re my wife. but you don’t know how fucking happy i am that you’re-”

“you’re insane, satoru. i can’t believe you…you stayed. and you-”

“you’re mine. of course i stayed.”

“i know, but…i didn’t even remember you. and now that i look back on it, sweetheart. you must have been so upset and alone, you…you barely even smiled. or made any shitty jokes. i’m sorry i didn’t notice.”

“you didn’t have anything to go off of. s’okay.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, his face tucked into yours as you run your hands in his hair and softly murmur into his ear. you’re not sure when the crying starts, when he starts trembling under you, but you have every intent to keep him in your arms as long as he needs to.

“satoru, you did so good.”

“yeah?”

“so good, sweetheart.” you murmur.

satoru frowns.

“i tried really hard to keep it together for you. i-i didn’t want to make you feel bad or that-”

“you did keep it together for me. but you can let go now, i’m here to catch you.”

it’s enough to leave him sobbing in your arms, your quiet whispering in his ears not reaching him. he’s positive that he’s made you say it a hundred times at this point – that you love him – and he’s more than thankful that you’re willing to oblige.

satoru realizes there’s three stages to it, two weeks after the fact.

first, it’s the hand being extended to him. it was so quiet that he barely realized it at first – the fact that you were trying to pull him back, the first second that you remembered. warm hands squeezing his frame, the same way they always had.

second, the realization. the water he was drowning in was so cold that he could barely remember the extent of the warmth and when it returned, it was so sweltering that he could barely remember that he was freezing a few seconds ago. sweet honey eyes – being so full of love that he can see it pouring out of your eyes when you look at him.

and lastly, being pulled up. it’s warm air tickling his skin this time – the smell of your perfume, cold feet on top of his when he goes to bed, a kiss on the forehead, two little airplane necklaces, matching golden wedding bands.

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest of things. in the mere fact that you were looking at him.

an: our very first 1989 song!!! I thought ironically that it would be very funny if I did an amnesia au to out of the woods. and then I accidentally wrote all of it.

taglist: @invisible-mori @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @torureadz @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga

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aarcanegrimm · 11 months

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9. The Dragon Valkyrie

Masterlist

Ella's getting to Yami, she just knows it... but she hadn't expected such a wonderful surprise from her new family... but why does she feel strange when she meets the masked man?

Warnings: swearing, tears, absolute FLUFF

Noelle could admit that as Ella brown hair suited her… as Noelle it was such a strange change, one Lyra was more than happy to help with after a couple of days asking. Nothing overbearing but she wanted to know what dye felt like, what colour would suit her- things like that. She’s gone with a pretty golden brown, something light and easy to get used to for now- maybe in the future she would choose a darker shade… just as long as it hid her silver-white hair.

No one seemed to question her further about the change, which she was extremely grateful for during the last month of her living with the Black Bulls. She wanted to leave as much of her life as Noelle Silva behind as possible… at least for now. With this different hair colour it now decreased any risk of a Silver Eagle even thinking it’s her at all and on the smallest chance she ever ran into a family member (or even Cordelia) there would be no way to recognise her.

Right?

Of course luck was not on Ella’s side as Yami grabbed the girl by the scruff and dragged her outside the base. All she wanted to do was train! Hel she may not actually know what day it was but still!

“Yami let me go!” Ella groaned, not even fighting the giant man.

“I need you to get shit for me at the Capital while I’m in a meeting.” Yami grunted.

“Can’t you get Morgan or Lyra too- or even Vanessa she’s new make her do it.” The woman having joined about two weeks after Noelle had (not that she counted yet apparently) and as the water mage had expected was a wreck- having met her mother she honestly understands why.

“Morgan and Lyra are on a date, Nacht is busy and Vanessa has a hangover.” Yami countered as he hoisted the girl onto his broom with him balancing precariously behind her, feet planted against the magical object. Her small hands grasped the broom tight as she made herself comfortable. “Don’t go expecting free rides all the time kid, this is just because you can’t fly yet.”

And then they were off and Ella couldn’t help but feel utter wonder as she stared at the world below with one stray thought passing- Was Vanessa even allowed to drink alcohol yet?

~~*~~*~~*~~

“Be back here in an hour you got it kid.” Yami instructed as they landed before the Wizard King’s base of operations. “Here’s the list, it shouldn’t take you long to find everything so if you have the time wander around, get some lunch or whatever. Here Lyra’s given you some Yul for the trip.”

“Sir yes sir.” Ella offered the magic knights salute, her nose scrunching and tongue poking out at the man. He gave her a warning look as she took the Yul from Yami. “See you in an hour.”

“Don’t get lost.”

“I won’t.” She called, rushing down the steps and passed the knights at the gate- she barely registered an awfully familiar voice greeting Yami with distain as she vanished into the streets. She wouldn’t look, wouldn’t turn to see him… she couldn’t. Ella shook her head of any thoughts, any memories, sucked in a deep breath as an image of her oldest brother’s face as she was dying echoed through her mind.

She wasn’t Noelle anymore… at least for now.

She needed a kilogram of Ash bark, ten sprigs of Rosemary, some varying meats- chicken and beef had been written in a different scrawl which she can only assume was Yami instead of Lyra’s neat writing- a pound of white salt, bags of flour and sugar and whatever other cheap herbs and charm ingredients Ella could find. Lyra was handy with her charms, using twine and sprigs to make anything from a lucky charm to warding off attachments- not that the young girl knew what she meant by that and she hadn’t wanted to ask Nacht who’d only looked pained that it had to be done at all and Morgan had only snickered at his twin… so whatever it meant was probably not something she needed to ask about.

The now brunette sighed as she wandered the market, her hand trailing to the dagger pinned to her hip while the other grasped the basket she now held. Her pezzottaite eyes eyed the dark alleyway at the end of the market, the entrance to the Black Markets… a place she has no business being in nor wanted to be in- especially so young now. With a huff she made her way towards the butcher, having just enough Yul left for the portions written on the note and a nice snack on her way back to Yami.

“Hello Lil miss what can I get ya.” The older man greeted, he reminded her of Mr Cook with his broad smile and crooked grin.

“Hello Mr Butcher.” She greeted in kind. “Can I please get these portions here of beef and chicken. Thank you.”

The old man laughed as he took the note she handed him. He squinted, reading the order before he looked down at the girl.

“That’ll be about fifty Yul.” She beamed, passing him the shiny gold coins. “All good, wait five minutes while I chop up the goods.”

“Alright sir.” She nodded, stepping to the side in case any other customers came by.

Five minutes later and her basket was full, now all she needed was her snack and to make her way back to the Wizard King’s base. She spotted a bakery and made a run for it, skilfully dodging everyone as she did- she didn’t want to be in a long line just for a chocolate pastry.

“Hiya kiddo what can I get you.” A woman greeted as Ella panted before the stand.

“Just a chocolate pastry please. I have about twenty Yul here.”

“The pastry is only ten, keep the change… busy with errands I see.” She smiled down at Ella.

“Yeah, my… guardian had a meeting so he brought me here to get some stuff.” Ella replied, exchanging her Yul for her delicious pastry.

“Ah.” The woman nodded. “Well kiddo if you ever find yourself running errands here again you’re welcome to hang here for a while. Name’s Selene.”

“I’m Ella, nice to meet you Selene… oh sorry I have to go now. His meetings almost over.”

“All good, stay safe Ella!” The honey blonde woman laughed as she waved the girl off.

Apparently Ella had been closer to the base than she’d thought with fifteen minutes remaining in Yami’s meeting. She found a seat beside Yami’s broom as she nibbled on her pastry- it was delicious. She really should have taken her time, being so close to Nozel and the Wizard King was making her mind tick and she didn’t like that… and so she people watched- with Alder now sitting on her shoulder.

“Hey kid!” Ella jumped turning towards the voice of her Captain (whether he liked it or not). “Didn’t get lost?”

“Nope. Got everything Yami.”

“Good. Wait a few more minutes and then we’ll go. Gotta talk to Goldie Guts first.”

Ella can only hope that Nozel didn’t appear, she didn’t want to see him, wanted absolutely nothing to do with any of them… Plus what kind of shitty luck could a near ten-year-old have for him to even show? Alder vanished as she moved closer to Yami.

She saw the masked Captain step out of the shadows and a chill ran down her spine… something about him was off. She took a deep sidestep behind Yami, only peaking around him to see what he wanted… she could see Nozel further back- gods she hopes he didn’t notice her. Vangeance looked down at the mess of brown hair behind his friend.

“Hello there.” The Captain greeted with a laugh. “Who’s this Yami? A bit young to be a knight hah.”

“Eh? Ella’s just some brat who wouldn’t leave me alone… lives at the base with us now though.”

“Yeah but you care- we know you do.” She poked her tongue at the man, ignoring the way her fist tightened against his Grimoire’s holder.

“Ella, nice to meet you then. I’m William.” The masked man smiled, it was warm and kind but… she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was off. Her eyes darted towards the Silver Eagle Captain who’d been ignoring them for the most part… until his eyes met hers.

Nope.

She tugged against Yami’s pant leg, she couldn’t control the gut wrenching feeling she had as he looked at her. Her heart hammered in her chest, she felt like she was going to throw up, even at the slight chance he could tell who she was… what would he do to her? What would any of the Silva’s do? Would they beat her senseless? Scream and cry over her reckless plan to run away…

“What’s wrong with you?” Yami grunted ruffling her short hair. She only turned around and reached for the basket of items she had brought, ignoring the question. “Kid’s probably tired and grumpy now.”

“It is midday so I don’t blame her.” William laughed. “This wasn’t going to take long anyway- just wanted to see if your squad was up for a joint mission?”

“Ah? Yeah Lyra and Morgan would probably be happy to do it. They can drag Vanessa along too. Why?” Yami questioned- though keeping an eye on his young ward (not that he would call her that aloud).

“Lord Julius wants to send some of my knights to a dungeon but my only available people are new and have very little experience.” William stated. “We may be rivals my friend but well we are… friends. Thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

“I’ll talk to them and let you know. Send them the mission details when I do.” William nodded before offering his goodbyes to the Black Bulls Captain and ward.

Noelle… Ella wanted to leave, before Nozel got closer, before he spotted her. It seemed Yami was just as eager to leave as he hoisted them both onto his broom, the basket looped over the broomstick so that it wouldn’t fall.

“You okay kid?” Yami asked after a few minutes.

“Fine.” She replied. He grunted out a laugh.

“You aren’t going to get far in my squad if you lie to me ya know.” He said. Ella blinked owlishly and snapped her head back towards the Captain.

“So I’ll get to join? You’ll train me properly?”

“Who said I’d train ya!” He scoffed. “Lyra’d skin me if you didn’t join after all ya effort.”

“Morgan’d help ‘er.” Ella added with a grin… ah she’d picked up his inflections- how nice.

“Probably… don’t change the subject what’s wrong?”

Ella faced forwards again, eyes darting across the sky as the broom glided through the air. Her thoughts were swirling like a whirlwind… what could she even say? There was no way in Hel she’d tell him about Nozel… not yet at least… maybe one day. Though perhaps-

“I don’t like the masked man.” She shrugged. Ella could practically feel the way Yami’s mana shifted, and she couldn’t say Captain Vangeance because he didn’t introduce himself as such and it would be weird if she knew his name right? Though she did know Yami’s so perhaps that was redundant.

“Why? His mask scare ya? I’ve never seen him without it so I can’t tell you why he hides his face.”

“No… it was weird, like… my spine got really cold?” She didn’t know how to explain it, how off it felt just being around Captain Vangeance.

“That’s weird.” Was all Yami said, she just shrugged again.

~~*~~*~~*~~

The base was dark… really dark. Not a single light was on nor an open window in sight as Yami and Ella landed. The Captain said nothing as he grabbed the basket and Ella by the scruff of her shirt and pulled them in. It was just so dark… and weird and

POP! BANG!

The lights were back on.

“SURPRISE!”

Ella jumped, her head near reaching Yami’s shoulder as she let out a high-pitched squeak. Alder re-materialising mid-air, a small stream of hot water splashing against a nearby streamer.

“Surprise?” Ella questioned after a moment, the squad trying desperately to hold back their laughter from scaring the poor girl. “What’s this for?”

“Happy birthday kiddo.” Lyra snickered, hand musing against her golden-brown locks. “You’re ten now.”

“Oh.” Ella said, stunned that they even remembered. Her eyes welled up a little, she hadn’t expected this… hadn’t even remembered what day it was. “Thank you everyone.”

“Aww.” Vanessa cooed (Ella wouldn’t be surprised if she’d already had some wine). “We love you little dragon!”

“Love you all too.” She said, and she meant it with her whole heart.

“Come on into the living room- we have presents.” Morgan smiled, Nacht’s face echoing his twins as his shadows pushed the now ten-year-old mage forward.

It wasn’t much but she loved everything they bought her- and now she knows why Yami decided to take her to the city today she’s happy that he did. This meant so much to her, no one had ever done anything like this. Vanessa bought her a charm to tie to Gloaming- a little silver dragon with black ribbon that managed to resemble Alder (who was very happy with this). Nacht gave her some new cleaning equipment for her knives and sword while Lyra and Morgan both bought her some books- one was about Valkyries, another dragons and the last one was a fantasy story about a runaway princess… how ironic. Yami, however, he surprised her with a book as well… a book with sword techniques and fighting stances, but that wasn’t all.

“One last gift!” Lyra announced, pulling forward a small box that made a slight jingling noise. “We all pitched in for this and we hope you like them.”

Ella grasped the box, opening it carefully. Two plain silver bands sat on a velvet cushion.

“What are they?”

“Weights, they’ll help strengthen your wrists and arms for your sword fighting. They can be imbued with as much mana as you need to help with flow and movement.” Nacht was the one who answered and she could only smile wildly- ignoring the way Alder tried to lick at her tear-soaked-red-cheeks.

“Thank you… thank you so much.” Ella’s lip wobbled as she looked between each knight. This was her family, this was her home… and she loved them so, so much.

“Happy Birthday.” They all said again and Ella couldn’t stop herself from barrelling towards the dark-haired couple, hugging them tight- Vanessa reached over and ruffled her hair while Yami and Nacht watched silently (both fighting off a smile).

“Thank you.”

#black clover #black clover angst #black clover fluff #black clover oc #black clover crack #noelle silva #black clover noelle

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right-brain-of-froggy2 · 2 years

Text

Christmas in July: Bonus Day 26

Here's the first extra, little peek into Lucy’s cookie recipe book! An accompaniment to Chapter 7: Wonderful Christmastime with the cookie baking day.

Literally it's just recipes with a little story drabble before and after to try and tie it in lmao All the recipes here are actual ones that my family will make on our own "cookie baking day" that we distribute out. Quite a few are American Midwest staples that I've grown up with and hopefully you all enjoy as much as I do, others are commonplace. My mentality has always been to excitedly share recipes and never keep them a "family secret" as that's not quite as fun :)

I was a little short on time today and didn't convert any measurements. I'm planning to edit them in sooner than later for metric!

“John! You done yet?”

Alan peeks over his ginger brother’s shoulder to the raw dough sitting on the counter. It had just been pulled out of the fridge and is waiting being scooped onto trays. A warm smell drifts from the oven. Something familiar in a far-off way.

“Just about,” John mumbles as he flips through Lucy’s cookbook. It’s been through a lot. Over one hundred years of recipes and paper barely holding together under Virgil’s saving lamination. He runs his thumb down the worn page before finding what he needs.

He grabs the teaspoon and the jam. John starts filling the dough balls, pressed down enough to hold the sweet raspberry jam. Alan’s more interested in the cookbook, though.

“This is Mom’s, right?”

“Yup.”

“Ooh! Can we make these?” Alan points to a recipe that has ingredients not on the island. John smiles.

“Ask Scott to make a run for you. We’ll do it later this week if we’ve got the downtime.”

Alan nods. He’s happy with that answer. John pulls the still warm chocolate cookies out of the oven and pops the new ones in. Alan sneaks one, burns his fingers without a care, and settles in to flip through the rest of Lucy’s recipes.

Snickerdoodles:

Ingredients:

1C shortening (part butter)

1 1/2C white sugar

2 eggs

2 3/4 C flour

2tsp cream of tartar

1tsp baking soda

1/4tsp salt

2T white sugar (separate from 1 1/2C)

2tsp cinnamon

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 400F. Sift together flour, cream of tartar, soda, and salt. Set aside. Cream shortening and sugar. Once a smooth consistency, add in eggs. Fold in flour mixture. Form into balls the size of walnuts. Roll in cinnamon-sugar mixture until covered on all sides. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes on an ungreased cookie sheet.

Pecan Tassies:

Ingredients:

Tart:

1/2C butter, softened

3 ounces cream cheese, softened

1C flour

Filling:

1 egg

3/4C brown sugar

1T butter, melted

1tsp vanilla

1/2C pecans, coarsely chopped

Instructions:

Cream together butter and cream cheese. Stir in flour. Cover and chill dough for 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 325F. Beat together egg, brown sugar, melted butter, and vanilla for the filling. Stir in pecans. Shape the dough into 1” balls and press into the bottom and up the sides of a mini muffin tin. Fill each with 1 heaping teaspoon of filling. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes. Cool for 5 minutes in pan before moving to a wire rack.

Rolo Cookies:

Ingredients:

2 1/2C flour

3/4C cocoa powder

1tsp baking soda

1C white sugar

1C brown sugar

1C butter, softened

2tsp vanilla

2 eggs

~48 Rolo candies

2T white sugar

4 ounces vanilla almond bark

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 375F. Mix flour, cocoa powder, and soda together in bowl and set aside. Cream butter and sugars together until light and smooth. Beat in eggs and vanilla. Stir dry ingredients into wet mixture and mix well.

Lightly flour hands. Shape around 1T of dough into a ball around 1 Rolo (or other chocolate covered caramel candy). Repeat until dough runs out. Roll balls in the 2T of white sugar and put onto baking sheet. Bake for 7 to 10 minutes, until cookie is set and slightly cracked on top. Cool on baking sheet for 2 minutes before transferring to wire rack. Let cool completely before melting almond bark and drizzling over the top.

Oreo Balls:

Ingredients:

1 package Oreos

1 package (8 ounces) cream cheese, softened

1 package vanilla almond bark

Instructions:

Crush Oreos until fine. A food processor works best, but a blender or placing the cookies into a bag and crushing with a rolling pin works as well. Combine with the cream cheese in a large bowl. Beat together with electric mixer until a smooth consistency with no cream cheese lumps. Roll into balls and freeze for at least two hours.

Melt the almond bark until smooth with no chunks. Dip frozen Oreo balls into almond bark and place on wax paper. For an even coat that does not have pieces of Oreo in the coating, dip a second time into fresh almond bark. Refrigerate.

Cheater’s Fudge:

Ingredients:

3C semi-sweet chocolate chips

1 can (14 ounces) sweetened condensed milk

Dash of salt

1 1/2 tsp vanilla

Instructions:

Line an 8” or 9” square pan with aluminum foil. Butter the foil and set aside.

In a large saucepan, melt chocolate chips with sweetened condensed milk and salt. Remove from heat once fully melted and smooth. Stir in vanilla and spread into prepared pan.

Chill for 2 hours or until firm. Turn fudge out onto cutting board and cut into even bite-sized squares. Store covered in refrigerator.

Thumbprint Cookies:

Ingredients:

Dough:

2C + 2T flour

1/4tsp salt

1C unsalted butter, cold and diced into 1T chunks

2/3C white sugar

1/2tsp vanilla

1/2C seedless raspberry jam (or jam of choice, apricot is also amazing with this recipe)

Glaze:

1C powdered sugar

1tsp vanilla

2-4tsp water

Instructions:

Whisk together flour and salt in small bowl and set aside. Cream butter and sugar. Add in vanilla. Mix in flour mixture until it forms a smooth dough (it will be very crumbly and dry when you first start mixing). Shape dough into 1” balls and place on ungreased baking sheet. Make a small indent with thumb in the center of each ball. Fill with 1/2tsp jam. Chill in refrigerator for 20 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350F. Place chilled cookies directly into oven and bake 14 to 18 minutes. Cool for 2 minutes on sheet before transferring to wire rack.

Whisk together powdered sugar, vanilla, and water to make the glaze. You may vary the amount of water added to get your desired consistency. Once cookies are cooled, drizzle over top.

Crinkle Snowcaps:

Ingredients:

1 1/2C four

1 1/2tsp baking powder

1/4tsp salt

2C semi-sweet chocolate chips

1C white sugar

2T margarine, softened

1 1/2tsp vanilla

2 egg whites

1/4C water

1/2C white sugar (for rolling)

1/2C powdered sugar (for rolling)

Instructions:

In a small bowl, combine flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside. In a small saucepan, melt 1C of chocolate chips over low heat. Stir until smooth and remove from heat. In a large bowl, beat sugar, margarine, and vanilla. Beat in the melted chocolate, followed by the egg whites. Gradually mix in the dry ingredients. Alternate with small amounts of the water. Stir in remaining chocolate chips. Cover and chill around 2 hours.

Preheat oven to 350F. Shape dough into balls the size of walnuts. Coat in a light layer of white sugar before rolling and coating generously in powdered sugar. Bake on greased cookie sheets for 10 to 15 minutes until sides are set but centers are slightly soft. Cool for 2 minutes on the sheet before moving to wire racks.

Spritz Cookies:

Ingredients:

1 1/2 C butter (do NOT substitute)

1 egg

4C sifted cake flour

1tsp baking powder

1C white sugar

2tsp vanilla

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 400F. Cream together butter and sugar. Beat egg in a separate bowl before adding to sugar-butter mixture along with the vanilla. Beat well. Sift together cake flour and baking powder before adding to creamed mixture. Stir until very smooth. Using a cookie press, form cookies. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes.

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies:

Ingredients:

1C shortening, butter flavored

1C white sugar

1C brown sugar

2 eggs

1tsp vanilla

2C flour

1tsp baking soda

1tsp baking powder

Dash of salt

2C quick oats

1C chocolate chips

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 350F. Sift together flour, baking powder, soda, and salt. Set aside. Cream shortening and sugar. Once a smooth consistency, add in eggs. Add in flour mixture until one consistency. Stir in oatmeal by hand, and then followed by chocolate chips. Place on cookie sheet and flatten with glass dipped in sugar. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes. Cookies will be crunchy and are not soft.

“International Rescue, we have a situation.”

“Go ahead, EOS.”

John wipes his hands of dough as EOS pulls up a schematic of Neptune and its moons. “It appears that a solar system probe is going haywire. A crew of two are requesting assistance.”

“Alan?”

“F.A.B.”

Alan bookmarks Lucy’s cookbook. He’s halfway through the cookie recipes, but missions come first. He’ll finish them another day.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #john tracy #alan tracy #sort of?#I use the characters like the long winded blog posts before recipes ha!#recipes #cookies #cookie recipe #christmas #christmas in july #christmas cookies #I am now craving all of these

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lifeundertheplumbob · 1 year

Text

1;2; Item 6

A loneliness grips Nicole, and she decides she wants to visit one of her sisters. She picks Helga, because she’s moved into a nicer house recently and she wants to see it.

‘Personally my dream home would be by the sea,’ says Nicole. ‘Somewhere where I could see a dolphin. But I like this place! It’s pretty roomy! Kind of a weird layout but very livable.’

‘Thank you Nicky,’ says Helga. ‘It was quite a chore to try and get it.’

‘Certainly a terrible mortgage,’ said Connor, Helga’s husband. ‘And years of living in a shack to save up for it. But we finally saved up the deposit.’

‘I hope it won’t be too much paying it back,’ says Nicole, who barely understands this stuff.

‘We’re hard workers with good incomes. Hard work is rewarded,’ says Connor.

Nicole gives Connor a look. She’s never liked him too much. Not much imagination.

Helga asks how Nicole’s job is going, and then asks about the chemistry set.

‘Oh, did I tell you about that? Oh I haven’t done much with it yet than experimentally produce knockoff medicine.’

‘Isn’t that illegal?’ says Connor.

‘I don’t distribute it.’ Nicole waves a dismissive hand. ‘I play around with medicines, and in duplicating medicines. I hope maybe I’ll figure out a new way to... I’m not sure. Better production, better knowledge of side effects. That sort of thing.’

‘That’s very interesting,’ says Helga. ‘I perhaps have an idea that might help you.’

‘Oh?’

‘There’s a new medicine on the market, called Phalanx, which we managed to get a prescription for for Conrad, whose ingredients are a complete secret.’

Connor stirs uncomfortably. ‘The New Government has chosen to permit this, and they know what’s best for the nation. You shouldn’t go prying.’

Helga speaks to her husband, but is clearly aiming this information at Nicole: ‘The owner, Virgil Waller, is clearly bribing the government to get around the law. He’s the most powerful man in the Nation, even more than Mondebello. If you can figure out how he makes his medicine, you’ll be doing the New Government a favour by getting them off his leash so they can go back to serving the people instead of this man’s profits.’

Connor concedes the point.

Connor takes out a whole plate of different things. He kept the bottle of Phalanx, which appears a dark brown syrup sort of stuff, on a plate of ingredients for Conrad’s lunch. Conrad is apparently over at a friend’s.

‘Give her the entire bottle,’ says Helga. ‘We’ll fake having smashed one to get a replacement, or something.’

Nicole takes a look at the bottle. It looks more like a bottle of syrup than a medicine. “Phalanx” is written in large dramatic gold letters, with the company name Vitasyn Pharmaceuticals in silver above it. The instructions have a simple one tablespoon daily dose.

‘It says it’s a remedy for most ailments,’ she says. ‘This seems unlikely.’

‘We got it for a bad chest infection Conrad had,’ says Helga. ‘And according to him it’s helped with stomach aches and he doesn’t feel as tired anymore. So I’m inclined to believe it. Besides, it is approved by the national medical association.’

And yes, their seal of approval is on the bottle. ‘If Mister Waller and “Vitasyn” is just mixing three different medicines that’ll be a nightmare of side affects and the medical association will have the entire company killed. Is nobody studying this?’

‘It’s a nightmare to get a proper sample of it. They have government and therefore secret police backing if any official lab tries to do anything. So we need our friendly neighbourhood bootlegger to study it for us.’

It has certainly been an interesting visit. Nicole is eager to get home and start working on it.

‘If you find anything untoward about it, tell me right away and I’ll kill Waller myself for poisoning my boy,’ says Helga.

‘I hope you don’t mind me leaving so suddenly,’ says Nicole.

‘Haha no, I had more plans today anyway. No offence, but I didn’t get all dressed up for you.’ Helga laughs and gives her a last goodbye hug.

Nicole won’t immediately get working on the medicine. She has a few things she wants to do. Talk to a few medical colleagues about it work, without the wiretapping of the phones, for starters. There’s also somebody she hasn’t spoken to in a while she’s eager to see again.

The being in the lamp presents an interesting choice. Money and Love were fairly straight forward concepts. This time he’s talking about fire and water. Far more metaphorical. He senses “a desire to improve physical existence.” “It” will be either from the “realm of fire” or the “realm of water.”

So Nicole’s about to get a gift, related to one of these “realms.” Very well. This is actually a very easy choice. Nicole has an unfortunate experience with fire that puts her off of it, and therefore chooses Water.

Spilling from the being and soaking her feet, a torrent of water rapidly sloshes through Nicole’s home. It’s not as bad as it looks; surface level wetness rather than an actual flooding, but it’ll take a while to clean it up. Nicole stamps her feet in fury, but is deep down relieved she didn’t pick Fire.

Apparently this man in the lamp isn’t is one of those folkloric beings.

#the sims #part 1 #act 2 #nicole stauss #helga stauss #connor delaney #the jinn

0 notes

mountswhore · 2 years

Note

Hey can I request a Marcus one involving his daughter. So Marcus is cooking something and Jesse is there too just chilling in the kitchen. Your toddler daughter also wants to hang out with her daddy and her uncle and it’s just you 3 having a good time but then Marcus accidentally hurts himself but it’s nothing major just a minor problem. But then YDN starts taking caring of her daddy well tries to and informs her daddy that mummy’s kisses will always make him feel better. And Marcus smiles and agrees.

𝐛𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐨 — marcus rashford

summary: marcus burns himself whilst cooking, and your daughter decides to fill in for you

notes: requests are CLOSED.

"Say bye to mummy," Marcus instructed his daughter, pointing to your car as it pulled out of the driveway. He bent down to his daughter's height, catching sight of her smile and the way her hands wiggled whilst waving goodbye. You waved from the car and could almost hear her giggle as you finally left.

It was Wednesday, you usually didn’t work Wednesday’s, but you were. Your boss told you it was double pay, and even apologised for any inconvenience. But you went in as you were the only one qualified enough to do this task at work, having to give up your day at home with Marcus and your daughter, Lila.

"Uncle Jesse is coming over today, isn't that fun?" Marcus mentioned to his daughter, lifting her onto the bathroom counter and handing her the pink, fairy toothbrush with a pea-sized dollop of toothpaste. The pair of them brushed their teeth, Marcus making weird faces as he looked down at her, before wiping their mouths.

"And Hope too?" She asked, curiously, pausing at the edge of your room as Marcus quickly grabbed his hoodie.

"Not today, princess. But this weekend she will be."

The three of you had originally planned to make some baked goods, as it was close to Marcus' birthday. You spent two hours in bed, altogether, last night to find some recipes to make. And getting the dreaded work call meant Marcus and Lila would have to make them alone.

"We need ingredients!" Lila exclaimed, and Marcus nodded at her as he wheeled the trolley into the shop. She wanted to be helpful, so she wasn't sat in the trolley, she was picking up ingredients.

The shop was quiet for a Wednesday morning, as everyone was either at work or school, it meant it was perfect for Marcus to shop in peace. Lila helpfully grabbed everything they needed, which you texted them once you got into work, just so they didn't forget anything. And Marcus had also grabbed some lunch for the two of them to have.

Once the shopping was paid for and back at home, Lila was handing her daddy ingredients from the bags, which he left all on the side for their upcoming baking session.

"Lunch now or after, Lils?" Marcus asked his daughter, who was now scrunching the bags in her hands. She'd grown up to be so helpful, and every time you looked at your daughter, you were reminded just how much her and her father were alike. You were raising a mini-Marcus, and you couldn't be happier.

"Cookies first!" The youngster cheered, Marcus taking the ball of bags and putting them in the cupboard. He'd cleaned the island down to make space, got all the equipment out, and washed his and Lila's hands.

"Right, first," Marcus spoke, scanning his phone to look at what he needed to do first. They were making chocolate chip cookies first, and it was easy enough. Marcus had done this exact thing with you plenty of times as a date, and now it was a pastime with his daughter. Marcus couldn't stop the grin on his face as he looked down at his patient daughter, who could barely see over the island.

"Preheat the oven," Marcus mumbled to himself, turning the dial to the right temperature, before lifting his daughter onto the island so she could help. "Now, Lils, I need you to help me weigh some sugar and butter. Tell me when you see the number 120. Okay?"

Lila nodded eagerly, eyes cast down at the small, black scales that held the bowl. Marcus was scooping butter out, and Lila made a yelp to tell him it was 122. "Too much, daddy!"

"It'll be fine, now, tell me when it hits 75." Marcus instructed, tipping in some brown sugar and watching over the number so he didn't go over. Lila made a noise again, telling Marcus to stop and grab the white sugar. The process repeated, until Marcus handed Lila a wooden spoon.

"Lila, you've got a big job, okay?" Marcus declared, putting the scales to one side and pushing the bowl towards her. "You need to stir this until it's all mixed together, can you do that?" Lila nodded at her daddy, sticking the spoon into the bowl and mixing it slowly. Marcus kept his hand on the bowl to keep it still, whilst checking his phone for notifications.

Y/N: How's it going?

Jesse: 10 minutes away

Marcus replied to your message first, letting you know just how well Lila was doing with helping him, and then sent a thumbs up to Jesse. He watched his daughter patiently, seeing her small hand stir the mixture, and it was getting there slowly. He could also see the concentrated look on her face, tongue to the corner of her mouth and poking out, something Marcus always watched you do when you were deeply concentrating.

"Can you do it, daddy? My arm's tired." Lila complained, leaning the spoon against the side of the bowl, and Marcus quickly grabbed it before it fell into the mixture. He quickly whipped it together, creating a fluffy mixture, and Lila was grabbing the chocolate chips to look at them both.

"I need one egg, baby." Marcus called out, looking down at his phone as he continued to mix. Lila quickly reached over for an egg, looking at it before hesitantly hitting it against the bowl. Marcus grabbed it, making sure not to get any shell into their mixture. He focused on mixing the egg in, whilst giving Lila the instruction on finding the vanilla extract.

The mixture was complete, Lila excitedly tipping in all of the chocolate chips, as well as stealing one for herself. Now, they had to roll it into balls and put them on a tray.

"Lils," Marcus muttered, grabbing the lined baking tray and putting it beside the bowl, "we need to break off small balls, roll them in our hands, and put them on the tray. Watch daddy, I'll do the first one." Lila nodded, watching intently as Marcus broke off a small bit of dough, rolling it in his hands, putting it onto the baking tray and flattening it lightly.

Lila tried the next one, copying her dad's actions almost perfectly, and the process continued, Lila was completely focused on making the cookies on the tray, whilst Marcus went to open the door for Jesse. The pair greeted each other, before walking through to the kitchen, where Lila almost fell off the island with excitement.

"Uncle Jesse!" She exclaimed, Jesse running round to hug her and look at what she was doing.

"What're you making?" Jesse asked her, eyebrows raised as she told him all about the cookies she was doing, and how her daddy was helping her.

Jesse situated himself at the island, talking with Marcus as he put the ingredients to one side whilst wiping the island down. And Lila continued to make the balls of dough on the tray. Marcus had taken the finished tray from her, putting it into the oven, and Lila helped to put the dirty equipment in the dishwasher.

"Lils, go and wash your hands upstairs, okay? I'm gonna make us lunch," Marcus told his daughter, hearing her feet patter along the floor to the stairs.

He'd made them all lunch, even making Jesse some, and they'd barely finished it before the timer was going off. Marcus grabbed the oven glove, opening the oven, trying to pull it out. Where the oven glove stopped on his arm, the exposed skin was caught on the oven door, slightly scolding Marcus. He yelped, alerting Jesse and Lila.

"Oh no, daddy. You're hurt?" Lila asked, watching Marcus put the tray on the oven top and observe his arm. Marcus nodded slightly, and winced in pain as the darkened patch of skin was tingling. Lila had gotten down from the island, looking at her daddy's arm before leading him over to the sink.

"Put your arm under the water." She instructed, and Marcus did as he was told, Jesse cackling in the background. The two stayed there for a while, until Marcus felt it was okay to pull away. He bent down to Lila to thank her, but she grabbed his arm and kissed it, far away from the burnt spot so she didn't hurt it.

"Only mummy's kisses will make it better," she told her daddy, and Marcus laughed.

"Yes, they will. But you helped me, so thank you, little one."

#marcus rashford fanfiction #marcus rashford one shot #marcus rashford x reader #marcus rashford #marcus rashford imagine #marcus rashford blurb #marcus rashford smut #marcus rashford fic #marcus rashford scenario #marcus rashford fluff

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theminecraftbee · 2 years

Note

I need opinion: Out of all the hermits, who would be the best at cooking?

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD QUESTION. some thoughts on the matter:

xisuma seems like someone people would EXPECT to be good at cooking but he is. so horrifically british. i think he wouldn’t know what a spice was if it hit him over the head. i think he’d get made fun of for this.

i think bdubs is either really good or really terrible at cooking and for the life of me i don’t know which. i’m leaning towards him being really good at it though.

impulse is the only member of boatem who cooks or bakes with any regularity. he’s decent at it but he DOES experiment and that’s when you’ve gotta stay away, because he wants taste testers

for the record on boatem: pearl is serviceable at it but does it out of necessity, grian can but hates it so he normally just gets things that he can make really quickly, scar is only good at it if he’s focusing otherwise he’ll forget what he’s doing and burn down the kitchen because he got distracted, and if scar’s bad like that then, well, mumbo…

i don’t think etho can cook he just steals all of iskall’s leftovers. iskall lives with this. iskall is okay-ish at cooking.

beef strikes me as good at cooking? i think he’d be great to go to a cookout or something with. however, his recent alien phase has lead him to think some… interesting… things are edible, so you know, go eat with him at your own risk.

false is like… exactingly competent with cooking in a way that means she’s good at following a recipe but gets lost the moment a recipe calls for “to taste” or “as much as you want” because like, why would it do that, she wanted instructions not vague guidelines.

cleo is also screwed if the recipe isn’t exact because she’s a zombie, she doesn’t have human taste buds. bonus points: she doesn’t have to bother with whether food is actually good or not and therefore doesn’t think to. the only reason her kitchen isn’t a science experiment is that joe appears sometimes, panics about food safety, and cleans the whole thing out.

joe, for the record, i think would be good at it? everything he cooks would taste very much homestyle. probably a lot of butter in everything, because that’s how you add heart to meals. half his recipes are like, simple things that he knows by heart, the other half are probably passed-down, specific things with weird ingredient choices that make them delicious but hard to replicate or find elsewhere.

i think evil xisuma learned to bake in evil school and enjoyed it so he kept doing it.

i think zedaph learned the science of cooking then gleefully broke all the rules. do not eat anything he feeds you.

jevin, like cleo, can technically eat anything. unlike cleo, he doesn’t have a joe to periodically manifest and force him to clean out his kitchen. do not eat anything he offers you either.

i think xb would be good at making something edible out of the bare minimum ingredients. he probably won’t always have the most delicious meal in the server, but you know it will be decent, no matter how esoteric your options end up being. if the apocalypse happened—haha you know wild hypothetical here—xb would be able to make something edible from whatever turned up.

i think welsknight thinks he’s good at cooking.

i think helsknight knows he’s awful at cooking but does it anyway because that’s a bad quality of wels’s that he inherited.

i think hypno is like, serviceable at cooking? i don’t think he’ll do anything wild, but he doesn’t hate it, won’t poison you, and you won’t regret eating with him.

keralis would be one of those people who makes WAY TOO MUCH FOOD and then expects you to eat all of it. it’s delicious but he’s looking at you intently and you can’t eat more of it, okay, you appreciate the thought but who on earth eats that much—

stress’s taste in cooking feels like it would be eclectic. not bad, just… if xb knows how to make anything work, stress knows how to make a weird set of things work that you wouldn’t think works, but it does, but can’t just make. a normal meal.

i think gem is really good at soup specifically. don’t ask me to justify this.

tango can’t cook and cheerfully accepts that.

TFC is pretty good at cooking, and thinks all these terrible cooks should probably learn.

cubfan can cook really well, but doesn’t do it often. when he does the other hermits love it though because he always makes enough for absolutely everyone and appears to drop off the leftovers for them.

ren and doc are… ren is distractable and, like grian, prefers quick and easy things that he doesn’t have to think about. doc forgets to cook at all unless food is shoved in front of his face, at which point he’s concerningly likely to try stupid things to make it go faster. in other words, neither of them can cook.

in other words… looking at this, I’m not sure, but I think it would be joe, bdubs, or cub? just from this overview—

#answered #hermitcraft #not tagging everyone because it’s. Literally everyone #coming up with these on the spot was DLEIGHTFUL

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hobidreams · 3 years

Text

january 1870.

what can you do? what power do you have?

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: angst, drama words: 1.3k warning: this drabble contains a form of disordered eating.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 28. start from the beginning?

“…uinyeo-nim…! …ease wake up…!”

“Can…hear us?”

The world comes back to you somehow piece by piece and all at once.

Words, hurried ones, pierce the haze of darkness that is thick in your mind, tugging you insistently to the surface. You think there are hands on you, taking your temperature from your forehead, checking your pulse, placing a pillow beneath your head. Part of you would like to keep your eyes shut for a little while longer, wanting to rest, but you cannot bear the worry in the familiar voices that call your name over and over and over. Wake up, you think, wake up.

Open your eyes.

In the dim light, the first thing you see is Scholar Park. His face has gone utterly pale, sweat beading down his brow as he frets, biting at a fingernail. But when he realizes you’ve surfaced, his eyes blow wide. He breathes an enormous sigh of relief that turns quickly into a half-delirious smile. “You’re awake!”

“S-Scholar Park…” You try to sit up and it’s a mistake. You feel aches all over; your limbs are slow as if they’re pinned down, made impossibly weighty with fatigue.

A warm hand lands on your shoulder, and you turn to see one of the younger uinyeo, Min-ji, by your side. “Please, stay on the bed, su-uinyeo-nim.”

You nod, settling back as you slowly blink, blink, blink. You don’t remember how you got here. You don’t remember what has happened to make you feel like this, like you’re hollowed out, weak. “But Min-ji, what—”

The door to your room bursts open. Wood scrapes harsh against wood, slamming into its frame.

Your incredulous eyes fall upon the king: the only man who could make such an entrance and demand every ounce of your attention.

“Jeonha!”

Immediately the other two in the room drop into deep bows.

“What the hell is going on here?” He stalks into the room, Eunuch Kim not far behind with concern etched on his features. “What happened?”

Scholar Park is slightly shriveling under the fury of the king’s glare but he manages to say, “we were walking to the library when uinyeo-nim suddenly collapsed. I immediately brought her here with the eunuchs, and called for another uinyeo to treat her. She awoke just a few minutes ago.”

“What?” He whips his head to the side. “You. Why did she collapse?”

Min-ji’s voice is so small as she replies, “I… believe it is fatigue b-brought on by m-malnutrition, jeonha.”

Then Min-ji is shrinking back too, for the king’s scowl grows infinitely at her words. He gives their meaning but a moment to settle in before he bristles. Bares his teeth.

“Let us be alone.”

“Jeonha…” Eunuch Kim starts. You can’t tell if he’s more worried for his charge or for you by the way he casts worried looks between you both.

“Alone.”

It is only after the door shuts behind the others that the king turns on you.

He walks to your bedside until he is close, but he doesn’t touch.

You stare at each other, your labored breaths the only sound in the space until he asks with a low tone, “you have not been eating?” Though he might sound angry, thoroughly annoyed in fact, you think there might be confusion there too. You are silent, so he continues. “Yet, when I ask, the cooks inform me that they have delivered your meals to you as I have instructed. So.” The syllable dips low, dangerous. “Who exactly is the liar here? Who shall get the punishment?”

You… did not realize he kept such a careful eye on you. How much should you reveal? What excuse could you come up with that could spare everyone?

“Not going to answer me? Then I shall have to call someone else. Jin-young. What would she tell me, hm?”

Pressing your lips together, you recognize his subtle look of triumph as you both know you could not drag the beloved cook into this. Your only option left is the truth.

“She… would say that I have... been asking for my meals to be uncooked. That I— I told her I wanted the ingredients to attempt to better my skills in the craft. But instead…” you scrunch the fabric of your skirt tight within your fingers. You take a deep breath, and then confess, “I have been distributing most of the grain, vegetables, and meats to those in town who are in need of it more than I.”

His scowl is so, so deep. “You... have been starving yourself instead?”

“I-I am eating as much as necessary, jeonha.” You don’t tell him that means two small bowls of rice porridge a day.

“Yet you collapsed.”

“I merely overworked myself today, that is all.”

“No. No, I do not accept that excuse. You collapsed. You fell unconscious, due to malnutrition.”

“But jeonha, the famine.” You push yourself onto your elbows. You need him to take you seriously, even as you wince from the action. “The people. The people have so much less than I. Often less than a single grain of rice to pass an entire day and much less any real sustenance to keep them alive. They— they are the truly malnourished here!”

“That is absolutely none of your concern.” Though he never raises his volume to a shout, his tone is no less intense, no less furious as he carefully articulates every word. Biting every damn truth at you. “You are not part of the royal family. You are not responsible for the people like this.”

Rare anger trickles into your veins as you fist your hands. You’ve backed down to him one too many times and this will not be one of them. “I need to do something! Am I meant to just watch them die, jeonha? To pretend that my life is perfect and lavish while I watch them suffer and struggle for want of nothing more than a hot meal?”

“Then would you rather die in exchange?!”

Your breath catches in shock. Your fury tampers down, simmering but not extinguished when faced with his overwhelming intensity, snapped at you as he wraps a firm hand around your arm.

Like a predator, he brings his face mere inches from yours. “I won’t hear of this anymore. You are not to do such things. Do not overstep your position.”

He squeezes you once before he pulls away and proceeds to leave completely, abandoning you to the absolute silence of your room.

You wait three pensive seconds before the door shuts before you let yourself collapse back onto the bed. What little strength you regained feels completely drained from you again. You didn’t mean for him to find out. You had no idea how he’d react but you never thought, never ever thought, that he would actually threaten your life like this. That harsh question repeats in your mind, the implications behind it more exhausting than any fatigue could ever be.

Silly you, to think there’d been a change in all these months. That things between you were progressing and getting back to a point where you could be comfortable with each other again. In the end, you were just deluding yourself. Letting yourself get caught up in the play-pretend that you could be the one to stand by the king’s side instead of the whore at his feet. (“What power do you have?” he asked you all those months ago, his voice abrupt, too coarse as he claimed you. You have none, as he has proved to you yet again. Not even enough to save yourself.)

#ficswithluv #btsghostie #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi angst #bts angst #bts imagines #bts scenarios #historical au #rain writes #moonlit throne #remember: there are two sides to every coin

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sockendrache · 3 years

Text

Egg

Inspired by my own dissatisfaction that Kyle didn’t get a Monstie and @magicallynormal ‘s idea of Kyle’s Monstie being a Tobi-Kadachi, I wrote this little ff in like 2 hours because I had nothing better to do

I wanted the Rider to stay gender-neutral but it just sounds like Kyle never bothered to ask them for their name-

___________________

“This is a terrible idea.”

“You should’ve thought about it before we left Kuan, then.”

Without sparing Kyle another glance, the Rider entered the Monster’s nesting-area without any hesitation showing on their face; Ratha close behind them. From within the depths of the cave, the Hunter could hear distant roars and predatory clicks; instinctively, he straightens his back, hand hovering over his bow.

The Rider, kneeling besides the huge nest, doesn’t seem bothered by the sounds at all; way too busy examining the brightly colored eggs.

Off to the sides, Kyle spots various piles of worn-down bones, all sporting teeth-marks and scratches, some entirely broken open. Along with a few stray chunks of flesh, almost blending into the ground of the den. They don’t look very fresh; probably a few days old already. His instincts tell Kyle to quickly gather up a few samples of whatever he can get his hands on, maybe let his scoutflies out to take in the scents; then leave the den as quickly and quietly as possible. Not taking anything valuable with him, not disturbing the Monster’s home in any way.

Though... the weight of the kinship-stone, strapped to his left hand, reminds him of the reason for this “expedition”.

He’s not here to take samples for the ever-curious Research Center, nor to track down a Monster. He’s not here to deliver chunks of flesh or eggs.... however, maybe he should just imagine he’s here for a delivery-quest. Maybe that would help calm his poor nerves, still absolutely shot to hell.

Kyle, who was born and raised a Hunter, who knows nothing else; he’s here to get his first Monstie.

It’s absolutely unheard of. A Hunter, whose sole purpose is to hunt these beasts down –maybe capturing them after tiring them out in battle, if the quest calls for it- is about to form a bond with one of these creatures, who he spent years of his life learning the weaknesses of, training to take down beasts several times his size.

Kyle takes a strained breath, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. Over their shoulder, the Rider shoots him a look; their eyes warm, their glance almost comforting.

“Come closer.”, they calmly say, gesturing with their hand towards the nest.

Feeling drastically out of his element, Kyle follows the command; takes a few brave steps towards the nest and promptly freezes up again.

He knows the process of this; hell, he’s already lost track of how often he stood guard while his new Rider-friend sifted through a Monster’s nest. He knew how to hold Wyvern-eggs, how damn heavy these things were and how stupid you looked while carrying one. He knew how these things were goddamn predator-magnets, and how easily they broke.

That, perhaps, was one of the things that frightened Kyle the most about this whole situation.

How often had he accidentally broken an egg while out on a transporting-quest? How often had he washed the yolk and slimy egg-whites off his armor in a nearby stream, before tracking his way back to the nest to pick up a new egg? And how often had he not wasted a single thought on it...?

It’s just eggs, he used to think. Eggs that he’ll bring to the canteen after returning to the base, eggs that he’ll probably eat sooner or later before leaving the base again, set out on yet another quest.

And yet, here he was. Standing at a Monster’s nest, containing eggs that he, before he met the Riders, used to scoop up without thinking about it twice. His muscles feel stiff beneath his armor, his throat scratchy and dry; what if he broke this egg too?

“Kyle?”, the Rider’s calm voice rips him out of his violently spinning thoughts. “You okay?”

Was he okay? Good question; if only Kyle knew the answer.

“I... I don’t think I can do this.”, he mutters, hating how small his voice is sounding. Cold fingers brush over his kinship-stone; a gift from the Rider. Apparently, it once belonged to them- before this Wyverian girl gave them their grandfather’s kinship-stone. “I mean- if I should do this. I’m- I’m a Hunter, we don’t just.... ride Monsters.”

They, like so often, only shake their head the slightest bit. And calmly, they reach for Kyle’s hand.

“Then why does Ratha love you so much?”

Almost as if on command, a big, scaly head bumps into his back; Ratha’s idea of a hug. After having spent a little time on Hakolo-island, it was almost frightening to see how.... human Monsters -or Monsties, as Kyle learned they were called- could be. He’s seen Ratha pick up on emotions, display human-like behavior; and not just on him. The Rider loved to point out the Monster’s behaviors whenever they took on a quest together, and as someone who’s spent his whole life learning about Monsters, it felt so entirely.... different, watching their behavior in packs, or see something as innocently as an Azuros teaching its cubs how to fish.

It felt almost unreal.

As a Hunter, most, if not all of his hunting-quests were targeting Monsters wrecking havoc; and when he’s out collecting ingredients or samples, he rarely ever got the chance of seeing Monsters in their natural habitat. And admittedly... seeing these beasts; even the ones that were known for their hostile behavior, completely unbothered by his presence... it shook something deep inside Kyle’s core.

Gently, cold fingers intertwine with his; pulling him down to kneel next to the Rider. Kyle peers over the edge of the massive nest; its inside carefully laid out with tufts of fur and moss. It’s like a giant bird-nest, the Monster clearly having put a lot of work into the making of it. Upon closer inspection of the fur, Kyle has a vague idea of whose nest he’s sitting at right now; though, following the Rider around, he quickly learned that there’s often a few “imposter”-eggs in a nest, smuggled in by Monsters not bothering to care for their young one hatched.

The silence feels tense; so, Kyle attempts to ease it a little.

“Why didn’t Navirou come along? Wouldn’t he be of help, sniffing out a good egg?”

Quietly, the Rider shook their head, giving Kyle an almost apologetic smile. They weren’t a big fan of words; he quickly caught up on that. However, this look didn’t need any words; after all, Kyle did tag along to a few egg-hunts before, watching from the sidelines as Navirou ushered them out of the den, barely giving the Rider enough time to get a good grip on the newly acquired egg. It’s not like Kyle had anything against the Felyne personally; but he had to admit that he was glad he wouldn’t have to rush through this process, only to prevent Navirou from having a Monster-induced heart-attack.

After all, he had a feeling that time would be an important factor in picking out his first Monstie.

With a huff, the Rider pushes themselves up, gently pulling Kyle with them as they step into the nest. Twigs crunch under his weight as he kneels down, getting onto the same level as the eggs.

The Rider placed their hand on Kyle’s shoulder; he’d lie if he tried to tell anyone that it wasn’t comforting. “Just pick the egg you have a connection to. Good smell or not, doesn’t matter. Don’t tell Navi I said that, though.”

The instructions are clear, yet awfully vague; and Kyle can’t help but note how it’s one of the longest sentences he’s ever heard from them. “Take your time, but.... not too much. Before an angry Mama Monster sees us.”

“....sounds reasonable.”

As he looks over each of the large eggs, most of them brown in color with yellow-ish ovals on the shell, he notices the odd one out. Between the egg of an herbivore, if he recalled correctly, laid a pale blue egg, the shell littered with dark blue, almost black zigzags.

Apparently, his gaze lingered a little too long on the lone Wyern-egg, as evident by the look the Rider gave him.

“That one?”, they asked, gingerly reaching out to guide Kyle’s hand towards the egg. Despite the cold air having slowly numbed his fingers, the egg’s surprisingly smooth texture is one of the first things that he notices. At first glance, it’s just like any other Wyvern-egg he’s transported before; and yet, in the back of Kyle’s mind, there was something.... else to this egg.

As if he could feel the Monster calling out to him from within its protective shell, only waiting for a Rider to bestow it their blessings and allow it to awaken into this world.

“I- ….is this normal?”

His fingers now shivering, he places his entire hand on the egg, frightened yet amazed how small his hand is compared to the massive egg. The Rider gives him a look that Kyle can’t quite place.

“I feel like-... this little guy wants to come out...?”

Before he knows it, Kyle is protectively clutching the egg to his chest; holding onto it just a little tighter than onto the ones during his transport-quests. The Rider and Ratha lead the way out of the Monster’s den, practically shielding him from the hungry eyes of the predators waiting in their path.

On the flight back to Kuan, Kyle could swear that his kinship-stone was pulsating with life.

__________________________________

“....is this really necessary?”

Back in the village, their first stop was the stables. And under the watchful eye of the Felyne running the stables, Rider and Hunter were preparing to hatch the little Monstie.

The egg –a pulsing fanged Wyvern, as Kyle now knew- was placed in a little nest, and Kyle could think it was staring at him from beneath the shell.

The Rider doesn’t bother answering, instead handing him a stick, with which they –to Kyle’s horror- performed something apparently referred to as “Dance of the tribe”, a ritual meant to pray for a healthy Monstie to hatch from an egg. Though, Kyle wasn’t entirely sure if they were just fucking with him, or if it was a legit ritual back on Hakolo-island.

Though, he doubted he’d have time to fly back to Mahana-village and ask the chief for confirmation before his Monstie hatched, and... something told him that he didn’t want to miss this.

And so, with the utmost raise of his eyebrow Kyle could possibly muster, he gingerly reached for the stick.

_________________________________________

By the time he was done, his face bright red and radiating more warmth than the oven inside his house, the egg hadn’t budged. Other than the soft cackle of the fire and Kyle’s tense breathing, the stables were silent, everyone’s eyes fixed on the egg... before suddenly, it shuddered with life.

Kyle, utterly overwhelmed with the situation, could only stare helplessly as the egg started to crack, pieces of the shell starting to fall off and revealing tiny spots of blue fur. Though, the Rider is quick to help; promptly instructing him to hold his kinship-stone towards the egg.

“To help it hatch,” they explained, their eyes practically glazed over with excitement. But hell, in comparison to Kyle, that was nothing. There might have even been tears in his eyes, he didn’t know- not even if they were from excitement or fear.

His kinship-stone starts to glisten in a bright blue light; he’d probably be scared if he hadn’t seen this during his battles with the Rider. The shell continues to crack open, tiny pieces falling off, until the egg shattered with a burst of life, a shrieking roar piercing the tense atmosphere of the stables.

As Kyle is face to face with the little Monstie, his throat starts to tighten.

“A Tobi-Kadachi! What a fine little Meownster,” the Felyne purrs as the Monster looks up at Kyle with –surprisingly- innocent-looking eyes.

Instinctively, something in Kyle wants to reach for his bow- thank the sapphire-star he took it off after entering the village. A tingling heat starts to spread throughout his body; the first hints of adrenaline starting to pump into his blood stream. He’s reminded of the piercing roars of the adults he’s encountered during his hunts, of their bursts of electricity when they glide through the trees and pounce onto their prey.

A bead of sweat collects on his brow; and as always, the Rider seems to notice. Calmly, they appear at his side, taking his clammy hand into theirs and holding it out- that way, Kyle can clearly see how his fingers shake.

The tiny Monster curiously looks at his hand; and just like that, his eyes squeeze shut and Kyle finds himself praying that the little creature is more interested in sniffing him than chewing his fingers off- at least until he feels something soft press up into his palm.

Upon forcing his eyelids open, he sees this newborn Monster rub its unbelievably tiny head against his palm, the smallest chirps coming out of its throat, and the Rider- they carefully let go of his hand, grabbing a hold of the other one and guiding it towards the Monster-…. No, guiding it towards his Monstie and-

The Tobi-Kadachi, this freshly hatched creature; it outright jumps into his arms- a poor attempt at gliding, it seems, and just like that, Kyle’s instinct to reach for his bow is replaced by the instinct to catch the Monster and-

By the gleeful little churr it makes once its settled in Kyle’s arms, he promptly finds himself nuzzling his face into soft fur. Still utterly overwhelmed by the idea of this tiny creature being his Monstie, but as he looks into the Wyvern’s big eyes, so full of innocence and wonder, he suddenly feels very much like he- no, they can do this.

#mhst2 #monster hunter stories 2 #monster hunter stories wings of ruin #monster hunter kyle #monster hunter fanfiction #fanfiction #tobi-kadachi #monster hunter stories #give this boy a monstie im begging you

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spacecowboyhotch · 3 years

Text

Right

summary: team is on a group vacation and reader is making breakfast for them

pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner

warnings: kissing, one slightly suggestive comment

word count: 1.6k

AN: prompt idea from @mrsh0tchner’s cm discord writing challenge // another song because that’s all I do

Being in the middle of nowhere in a large cabin surrounded by your favorite people is just what you needed. Fall was your favorite season, and you were happy to get to experience it in the forest. Your favorite things being the pine scented air, the crunch of the leaves, and the slightly chilly weather. It didn’t hurt that you were getting to see your boss, Aaron Hotchner, in casual clothes like flannels and jeans, chopping up wood with Derek to keep you all warm at night.

After a late night of drinking and making s’mores around a bonfire you were the only one awake and you decide to make a huge breakfast for everyone. You start a pot of coffee before pulling all the ingredients out for pancakes, along with some bacon and fruit.

You’re lining a baking sheet with bacon when a chill runs through you. After washing your hands, you run your hands up your bare arms, only in a tank top. Your eyes drift around the kitchen and living room when you see one of Hotch’s flannels on the couch. You knew it was his because you’d been trying to watch him like a hawk, knowing what a treat it was to see him in it. But just to be sure, you hold it up to your nose once it’s in your hands. You breathe deeply, inhaling a mixture of his clean cologne, pine, and bonfire smoke. You slide it on and get back to work, popping the bacon into the preheated oven and cubing fruit. You’re in the zone, watching the clock and so you don’t hear Hotch come down the hall.

He watches you for a moment, noticing how your hair frames your face and how you wrinkle your nose as you concentrate on cubing up some pineapple. He also notices his flannel on your body, effectively wrapping a removed version of himself around you. He wishes that you were in his kitchen, making breakfast for you and him and Jack. What he wouldn’t give to gather you into his arms and push a kiss to your lips. Instead he goes for a question, one he knows will make you a bit flustered which he loves to watch.

“Are you wearing my flannel?”

You jump, the knife clattering into the cutting board as your eyes fly up to meet his. He’s leaning against the wall in jeans and a t-shirt, looking absolutely delicious. You decide to play dumb, looking down at the garment. “Is it? It was sitting around and I got chilly.” You start to remove it but he shakes his head.

“Don’t, I don’t mind at all. You look better than I do in it.”

You bite away your smile, looking down at the scores of fruit in front of you. “Oh, I, um, thank you Aaron.”

“I like that.”

“Like what?” You ask as you start to scoop all the fruit into a bowl.

“When you call me by my first name. Just feels…”

“Right?”

“Yeah.”

The two of you exchange a smile, your face heating up under his caring gaze.

“Want some help?”

“Sure. Could you get out the peppers and onions for the omelets? And put this in the fridge?” You hold out the bowl and he easily takes it from you.

“You’re making omelets?”

“No, we’re making omelets. If I had time I’d make cinnamon rolls but I’m assuming they’ll be up soon.”

He chuckles and goes to pull the veggies out of the fridge, setting the fruit bowl inside first. He starts to chop them without any instructions from you, a comfortable silence falling in the air as you pull together a batch of pancake batter. It’s strangely domestic, and yet it feels…right.

You turn around to check the bacon in the oven at the exact moment that Hotch turns to ask you a question, effectively making you collide. You let out a small huff, and he steadies you, his hands falling to your waist. When your eyes meet his you can’t explain the feeling that comes over you. You push up on your tiptoes and gently press your lips to his.

He freezes at first, processing what’s happening before his lips melt into yours. You wipe your hands on the flannel then bring them up to cup his face, pulling him closer. His grip tightens on your waist as you tentatively push your tongue into his mouth. A low groan leaves him, one that makes you realize that you’re kissing your boss and you pull away.

You bring your hand up to your mouth, eyes wide in embarrassment and shock. “Oh my god, I hope that was okay it felt-“

He supplies, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. “Right. Yeah, I agree. It was more than okay.”

“Then…maybe we could do that some more later, after breakfast?”

“That would be nice.”

You nod, trying to seem unaffected by this unexpected turn of events. Talking might help you decide and you ask him, “What were you doing when we collided?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted me to whisk the eggs for you.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

You take turns getting what you need and then you’re back at it, working diligently right next to each other, only this time you rub up against him anytime you can, sweet smiles and soft eye contact between you.

“Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“I knew it was your flannel, I just like the way you smell and it made me feel close to you.” You admit, eyes flitting up to see his reaction.

His face twists, eyebrows pushing up almost to his hairline. Once he digests the information a bashful smile spreads across his face.

“Keep it baby.” He murmurs, leaning over to plant a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

Your mixing falters as your brain registers the term of endearment. Your heart has fluttered so many times in the last 20 minutes that you think you might pass out.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure it won’t be the first or last piece of clothing you take from me. I can always steal it back from you if I need it.”

“That would require you to be in my apartment.”

“Yes?” He keeps his eyes trained on cracking the eggs over the bowl.

“You plan on being in my bedroom?”

“I plan on doing more than just being in your bedroom.” The sentence makes your face hot and you blow out a nervous breath.

You don’t get a chance to respond.

“What are you two talking about?” Emily is leaned on the wall where Hotch once was, a smug smile on her face.

“Nothing.” You murmur softly, turning away to get a pan for the pancakes.

“We’re outlining the parameters of our relationship.”

“Aaron!” The pan slips out of your hand to land on the stove with a loud bang. You were still trying to wrap your mind around this and he was being so open as if he kisses you everyday.

He glances over his shoulder at you, realizing that you’re just staring at the pan that’s fallen. “Emily could we have a moment?”

“Sure, I’ll go check on the others.”

He says your name gently, almost as if he’s talking to a wounded animal and your eyes snap up to meet his. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Why was she not surprised?”

“Baby, they’ve been bullying me into taking a chance for a while now, you haven’t been fooling anybody.”

“Oh.”

“Sweetheart, your gaze is pretty intense.”

“So is yours.” You mutter petulantly, causing Hotch to chuckle.

“I know, but that’s me. You don’t look at everyone the way you look at me. When you look at me…when you look at me I feel like I’m the only thing that matters. It makes me feel cherished.” His voice gets low at the end, like he’s nervous about saying the last part.

“Because you are.” You take both of his hands in yours, bringing them up to kiss them.

“So are you.”

“I didn’t realize I was being so obvious. When did you know?”

“6 months ago I was complaining to JJ about getting Jack to eat his veggies, I guess you overheard. The next day you recommended a recipe that sneaks extra veggies into spaghetti sauce, which also happens to be-“

“His favorite food other than mac and cheese or pumpkin pie. I know.” You smile, proud of yourself for knowing so much about your…boyfriend’s son?

Labels were something you’d have to discuss later because before you can speak again to bring it up, his mouth is on yours again, warm and wet. He’s so gentle in his kiss, moving his hand out of yours so that he can rest one on the back of your neck, the other around your chin. When you hear the clatter of feet coming down the hall you pull away, busying yourself with getting the pan hot to start the pancakes.

“Hello lovebirds.” Garcia chirps with the widest, giddiest grin as she, Emily, JJ and Morgan enter the living room.

“Emily.” Hotch groans in frustration.

“It was gonna come out sooner or later!” Emily quips, heading straight for the fridge. She reaches for it and Hotch’s arm shoots backwards, slapping her hand away before he returns to the task at hand.

“We knew already anyway, we were just waiting for Hotch to man up.” Morgan teases, taking a seat on the couch before digging around for the remote.

“You two are just right for each other, everyone knows it.” JJ grins widely, raising her eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, I guess we are.” You giggle, wrapping your arm around Hotch’s waist.

“We are.” Hotch murmurs in agreement, mixing the peppers and onions into the eggs.

tagged: @ssahotchsbitch, @ssahotchie, @mrsh0tchner, @azenpal, @disgruntledchowchow, @chelseyjoyce, @hotchwhore15, @hotforhotchner11, @ssamorganhotchner, @choppa-style, @kuolonsyoja, @heliotropehotch, @averyhotchner, @zetasaturno99, @art-and-thoughts, @spngirl05, @g-l-pierce, @qtip-blog, @scuttling, @akira-155, @j-cat, @hotchner-bau

#quan ☕️ co case files #quan ☕️ co #gn!reader x hotch #hotch x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x gn reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner fan fiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds one shot #arsonhotchnerwrites

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lotusss-flowerbomb · 3 years

Text

Nice To Meet You

Bucky x Wilson!reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut (duh, so kids go home.), Godzilla Vs Kong spoiler

A/N: I’m trying to get back to it. I’m so rusty, so please bear with me. 😩

Also, this story has unprotected sex. Remember that this is just fiction and if he ain’t got no rubber then he can’t be your lover.

Word Count: 3,554 (My bad.)

********

You pulled into the driveway of the home you shared with your older siblings and nephews. You popped the trunk before getting out in preparation to get the many groceries you'd just bought.

You were bent over in the trunk when you heard a man's voice.

"Excuse me?" He called out.

You stopped what you were doing and turned to him. "Yes?"

"Hi, I'm looking for Sam Wilson, does he live here?" He asked.

"Yes, he does, but he isn't here right now." You answered.

"Oh okay, um, I'm —" he started.

"I know who you are," you interrupted him. I'm Y/N Wilson."

"I didn't know Sam was married," he said shocked.

You turned around and pulled a case of water from the trunk and gave it to him. Then sat another on top of it.

"I'm not Sam's wife. I'm his youngest sister." You told him and hooked bags onto his arms. "This way," you led him to the large porch and into the house.

You walked him into the kitchen where he set everything down, thanked him and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge for him.

"I didn't know Sam had a sister. It's nice to meet you," he reached out to shake your hand.

You grabbed the gloved hand and shook it.

"Sam won't be back until tomorrow. He and Sarah went to get supplies for the boat a few towns over and they’re staying the night."

"Sam has a boat?" He asked, confused.

"What exactly do you know about my brother?"

"Not much, I guess," he shrugged.

"Wow, a man risks his life and has to go on the run for two years because of you and you couldn't take the time to ask him about his life or family?" You raised your brow at him.

"Okay, I deserved that," he agreed.

"Mmm hmm," you turned to put the groceries away.

"Uh, I'll come back tomorrow when Sam's here."

"How'd you get here? I didn't see a car out there."

"I kind of walked from the bus station," he scratched the back of his neck.

"And where are you staying?" You followed up.

"I'm good at figuring those things out."

"Right," you rolled your eyes. "You can stay here tonight. I have to meet my brother and sister at the docks tomorrow and we can just ride up together."

"Oh, no, I don't want to impose. I'll be fine." He insisted.

"Have you eaten?" You asked.

His stomach decided to growl loudly at that moment. It wasn't exactly unusual for Bucky to forget to eat.

"I'm gonna fry some fish for lunch. The guest room is the third room on the left upstairs. You can put your things in there. Also, lose the gloves. You don't have to hide who you are here."

Bucky smiled at your back and followed your instructions. He looked at all of the family photos on the wall as he made his way to the room.

He felt bad for the twinge of jealousy in the pit of his stomach at how happy you all looked. He wished he still had photos of his family to look back on.

Bucky put his bag on the big plush bed and changed his shirt. He was happy you said he didn't have to hide who he was there. It was hot as hell with those gloves on.

********

When he returned to the kitchen you were already outside lighting up the deep fryer.

"Anything I can help with?" He asked when he walked out onto the deck.

"Absolutely, you can make the salad," you handed him the ingredients and a knife.

The two of you worked in silence until you were finished and sat down to eat.

"Thank you for letting me stay here," he finally said.

"Of course, you're Sam's friend."

"I don't know about friends. More like coworkers," he laughed.

"Wow, is that a smile? You should do it more often. It's nice." You suggested.

Bucky turned red. He couldn't remember when he was complimented last for a non violent act.

"So, why are you here, Mr. Barnes?"

"Just needed to talk to Sam about some things and you can call me Bucky."

"I hope you aren't here to talk to him about the shield. We tried to talk him out of it at first, but he made a decision and just like the rest of us, you need to respect that."

"He gave it away," he said with an attitude.

"Actually, he didn't. He put it away, there's a difference. And maybe if you tried to understand his choices instead of having an attitude about it, you'd understand why he did what he did." You matched his fire.

"Either way, I'm taking it back, because he deserves it. He's the only one who should have it."

"I agree, but I won't let you give him anymore shit about what he felt was right."

"I thought Sam was the superhero in this family?" He asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, Sam protects the world and I protect Sam. You should be happy you're talking to me and not Sarah though, she would've punched you by now," you got up and took your empty plate inside.

Bucky chuckled and watched as you walked away. His intention wasn't to come there and talk about the shield, but he still admired the way you had your brother's back.

When you walked back out you had two drinks in your hands. You sat one down in front of him and went to your chair.

"What's this?" He asked, looking at the red and orange drink.

"A tequila sunrise. Heavy on the tequila," you sipped from your straw.

"You know I can't get drunk, right?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, the serum speeds up my metabolism, so I can't get drunk," he shrugged as he took a huge gulp.

"I'm sure that sucks."

"You have no idea."

You sat outside and talked until the sun went down and then you went inside to clean up the kitchen. You washed dishes while Bucky dried them off and put them away.

Bucky's phone was sitting on the table when you first heard the familiar dating app notification sound. You ignored it, but by the third time you finally asked if he was gonna check it.

"It's probably no one," he said.

"No one? You're getting matches like crazy. Let's see if they're any good," you picked up the phone.

"What? No, absolutely not." He took the phone from you.

"Why not? You could potentially find the love of your life out here," you sat down and patted the seat of the chair next to you.

He finally gave in and sat next to you. Bucky opened his dating app and the two of you looked through his potential baes. He was swiping left on most of them so quick that you had to stop him.

"You're not even reading their bios. Give it a chance, jeez."

He slowed down a bit.

"Melissa, likes long walks on the beach and playing in the mud? Next." He swiped.

"Ooh, she's cute. Ella, an aspiring model who loves comedy. And look at that, her favorite movie is Robocop," you bit your lip to hold in your laugh.

"You're worse than Sam," he said annoyed and put his phone away. “And it’s Robocop 3. That’s like the worst one.”

"Oh come on, Bucky, give her a chance she has two dogs!" You laughed.

"I'm more of a cat guy actually," he said.

"You're adorable," you continued laughing, “let's go watch a movie," you put your hand out for him to grab and led him into the front room.

You turned on the TV and scrolled through for something to watch and finally settled on Godzilla Vs Kong figuring the action would be fun.

"Five bucks says Godzilla kicks the crap out of Kong," you said.

"What?? King Kong was first. It's only right that he reigns supreme in this situation," he countered.

"Put up or shut up, Buck," you shrugged.

He pulled the money from his wallet and sat it on the table.

Halfway through the movie you were both talking smack to one another. Bucky hadn't even realized how comfortable he'd become. Your legs were across his lap and he was holding them in place. Casually rubbing circles on your thigh every few minutes.

When Godzilla pinned Kong down and the fight seemed to be over, you jumped up in celebration.

"Yessss!!!! The dinosaur for the winnnn!!" You danced in front of him.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, show off," he chuckled.

You finished the remainder of the movie teasing one another along the way, when it ended you went up to get ready for bed.

*******

Once you were done with your shower you put on your pajamas and went to the guest room to check on Bucky.

He was standing in the window shirtless with his jeans unbuttoned looking out into the dark yard. You stared at his back. Your eyes tracing his entire body.

You shifted your stance as you felt your body starting to react to the sight of him. Your pussy was getting wet causing you to forget why you'd even gone to the room in the first place.

"Everything okay?" You heard his voice break your thoughts.

"Hmm? Um, yeah, I was just coming to make sure you didn't need anything before I went to bed?"

"No, I'm okay, thank you." He smirked. "You know you can just ask whatever you want to know."

You walked further into the room never taking your eyes off where his flesh ended and his metal arm began. You reached up to touch him and he flexed his arm a little causing the plates to shift.

You jumped back slightly before running your finger down the cool metal and then touching the scar he had.

"Does it hurt?" You asked quietly.

"Not anymore, but I still remember the pain," he answered.

"You're a nice guy, Bucky and I really wish that this never had to happen to you. Although, I can't lie and say that I don't think it's really cool." You ran your fingers over the metal again.

He took your chin in between his fingers and redirected your gaze to his eyes. He's wanted to kiss you since lunch and has been doing his best to hold back out of respect for his friend.

"Can I kiss you?" He said barely above a whisper.

You didn't even answer, just pressed your lips to his. The kiss was needy. You'd both been craving each other all day. He let his hands fall to the small of your back and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Bucky picked you up and was leading you over to the bed when you could hear your phone ringing in the other room. You broke the kiss and he lowered you to the floor.

"Shit!" You ran from the room.

You picked up the phone and saw that it was Sam trying to FaceTime you. You hurried to answer.

"Hey bro!" You said happily.

"What you doing? What took you so long?" He immediately asked.

"I was downstairs when I heard the phone, rudeness," you lied.

Sam just looked at you. He could always tell when you were lying. Even one as small as that. You decided to switch the subject before he asked more questions.

"Hey so guess who stopped by?" You said as you walked down the hall to the other room.

You peeked into the guest room before going in. Bucky had put his shirt back on and stood when he saw you coming in. You stood next to him and put him in the camera.

" Hi, Sam," Bucky said dryly.

It may have seemed like a normal greeting, but he was really annoyed that he'd interrupted a moment he'd built up the courage to have all day.

"Hey, what are you doing in my house Wall-E?" He chuckled.

"I came to talk to you, but you're obviously not here."

"Yeah, I put him up in the guest room for the night and we'll meet you down at the docks tomorrow."

"Alright... You'd better not be getting sweet on my baby sister either," he cut his eyes at Bucky.

"First of all, my sex life is none of your business. Secondly, there is no sweetness." You rolled your eyes. "Where's Sarah?"

"You know she needs an hour long shower before bed just like you," he responded in a snarky tone.

"Well, I'm going to bed, so tell her I said goodnight. I love y'all and we'll see you tomorrow." You said before hanging up.

You put your phone on the charger for the night and when you turned around Bucky was standing at the door.

"Goodness!" You yelled as you pressed a hand to your chest.

He didn't say anything, just rushed over and started kissing you again. This time, even hungrier.

Your tongues met and your body tingled. His hand gripped beneath your thigh as the other held him up.

You broke the kiss to pull his shirt over his head. The few seconds felt like an eternity for Bucky. He never wanted to take his lips off you, but he did once more.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked as he trailed kisses down your body.

He was finally on his knees in front of you. Face in between your thighs.

"I need to hear you say it, doll." He kissed one thigh.

"Yes," you breathed.

"Yes, what?" He kissed the other thigh further down.

"I'm sure, Bucky. I want you. Please," you buried your fingers in his hair.

He licked your clit slowly at first. Taking you all in and tasting your nectar. It had been so damn long since he had such a pretty pussy in his face.

You could hear him moaning as he sucked and slurped on your clit.

"Ooh, fuck baby, yes," you moaned.

Bucky's dick was screaming for release from his jeans. It was pressing hard against the fabric and ready for your touch, but he wasn't done with you just yet.

He spread your thighs wider and stuck his tongue in your tight pussy. He tongue fucked you until you felt your first orgasm approaching. You reached down and started rubbing your clit.

"Yeah, play with that pussy. Good girl," he praised.

You rubbed faster. Bucky stuck his tongue back inside and let you fuck his face some more. Your legs shook and the warm juices flowed onto his tongue. He moved your hand and licked from your hole to your clit.

"Told you I was more of a cat guy," he smiled.

"Shut up and share," you grabbed his face and stuck your tongue out to taste yourself on his lips.

You pushed his pants down and tried to flip him, so you could take him into your mouth, but he wouldn't budge.

"No, need you now," he said as he slowly pushed inside of you. "Fuck," he said in your ear.

He paused. He knew that if he moved he'd embarrass himself for sure, but you were so wet and tight. Fitting him perfectly.

Bucky buried his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly started to move inside of you. Allowing you to adjust to him without hurting you too much.

"You feel so good."

Hearing you say that made him pick up the pace. He rolled his hips faster and pushed your knees to your chest. He wanted you to feel every last inch of him inside of you.

He ripped your night shirt in half and exposed your breasts, watching them jiggle as he slammed into your pussy.

Now he wanted to watch something else jiggle, so he pulled out and turned you on to your stomach. He pulled you up by the waist onto your knees and slid his hard cock back inside of you.

"Fuck me," he demanded as he slapped each of your ass cheeks.

You obliged and threw your ass back on his slick coated dick and he watched your ass bounce in the process. He knew he wasn't going to last long like this.

"That's it, doll, fuck me. I wanna cum in that pretty little mouth of yours." He said.

His words caused you to cum. Your pussy clenched around him so tight and you knew when you heard the soft, "Oh fuck," leave his lips that he was about to explode.

Bucky pulled out of you and stood on the bed. He pumped his warm thickness into your waiting mouth while moaning loudly.

When he was done, you let some of the cum drip from your tongue. He slapped his dick in it and you swallowed the rest.

"Good girl," he dropped to his knees and kissed you roughly.��

He fell back onto the bed taking you with him. You laid on his arm and traced his jawline with your finger.

"You're beautiful," he said to you.

"Thank you," you smiled.

"Should I start you another bath?"

"No, I can take one in the morning."

"Good, because I don't want you to leave anyway." He kissed your forehead.

"Get some rest," you told him.

He looked tired and you could tell that he sleeps horribly at night.

Bucky closed his eyes. You waited for a few minutes before going to the bathroom to clean up. When you came back and laid down, he immediately wrapped his arms around you.

You snuggled into his chest and drifted off to sleep.

********

When you awoke the next morning Bucky's arms were still wrapped around you.

"Good morning," he said and planted a kiss on your shoulder.

"How'd you know I was awake?" Your voice still laced with sleep.

"Your breathing changed," he kissed you again.

You could feel his hard cock pressing against your ass. His metal hand traced a cool trail between your breasts and down to your clit.

You spread your legs to give him better access and then your phone started ringing. You rolled eyes when you saw Sam's name. This is the second time he's ruined your moment.

"Hello?" You answered with an attitude.

"Well good morning to you too, sunshine," he said.

"Samuel, it's literally," you looked at your phone for the time, "shit, it's 10am??"

"Yeah, exactly you slept in. Get your butt up."

Bucky didn't care that Sam was on the phone. He slid his fingers inside your pussy and pumped them slowly. Your body quivered beneath his touch.

"I'm getting — I'll call you when we're on the way." You quickly hung up.

Bucky chuckled. He moved his fingers faster inside of you and sucked a nipple into his mouth.

Your orgasm was so close and then he pulled his fingers out. Your eyes popped open and the satisfied smirk on his face let you know that he'd done it on purpose.

"Next time, don't answer the phone, doll." He kissed your lips and walked towards the door. "Oh and don't even think about touching yourself." He said before he disappeared.

He was out of his mind. You quickly grabbed your toy from your drawer and went into the bathroom. You turned on the shower and sucked the vibrator into your mouth to wet it.

You put your foot up on the tub and slowly fucked yourself with the toy. Your eyes were pinched shut and you were so into what you were feeling that you hadn't heard the door open.

Bucky watched as you pleasured yourself. He was turned on by the sight, but pissed, because he told you not to. He walked over and snatched the toy from you. Covering your mouth, so you couldn't scream.

"Now, I remember telling you not to do this, doll." He moved his hand and nipped at your collar bone.

"No, you told me not to touch myself. I used the toy," you said.

"Real cute," he growled.

He put the toy on the counter and walked you into the shower. He got down on his knees and started eating your pussy again.

He should've been punishing you, but instead he was treating himself. Bucky knew in that moment that you were now his addiction.

You gripped his hair while he held on to the leg that was thrown over his shoulder.

"I want to feel you. Please," you begged.

He wanted to deny you, but he simply couldn't. Your wish was his command.

He stood and lifted you up, slowly sliding you down on his hard dick. He was sure to keep you against the wall, so your hair wouldn't get wet.

Bucky fucked into you slowly. Enjoying the feeling of your slick walls. He wanted to stay inside of you forever.

"I'm gonna cum, baby!" You mewled.

You heard him grunt in response. He was close himself and when you tighten your grip around him he exploded inside of you.

You bit his neck as your own orgasm washed over you. He finally let you down and the two of you finished the shower together.

Bucky had no clue how he'd break this news to Sam, but he knew he had to, because there was no way he wanted to ever go without your touch again.

********

#Bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky x you #Smut #marvel smut #marvel fanfic #Avengers #falcon and the winter soldier

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archies-litterbox · 3 years

Text

what’s the greater good worth? (definitely not this)

Summary: Merlin rescues Douxie from some lowlife gang of bandits, and he's devastated by what's already happened to his apprentice before he found him - by what he was too late to prevent happening to his son. But there's more to what happened than simply what lay before him.

Words: ~8.5k

A/N: Finally got this oneshot done! It’s actually based on this post I made a while back, but the idea of fleshing it out into a full-lenth oneshot just wouldn’t leave me alone! (Just like I can’t leave the poor moppet alone 😔) Hope you like it!

[CW: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Temporary Muteness]

Merlin sent Hisirdoux on a short errand: go out to the marketplace, buy some ingredient he’d needed, and come straight back. No dawdling, no distraction, and no stopping to make lovesick puppy eyes at that maiden who frequented the market at the same time Hisirdoux himself did.

He couldn’t remember the exact thing he’d told his apprentice to fetch, for the memory was soon overtaken by worry when the boy hadn’t come back by late afternoon. He’d only sent Hisirdoux out that morning, and even if he had forsaken his instructions and tried to muster up the courage to ask that girl her name…

“I, er… don’t exactly know her name yet,” the moppet had said, “But I think it’s something with a Z! At least, that’s what I heard the person she was talking to call her. I haven’t, er… actually spoken to her yet.”

“Focus on your studies,” Merlin had said, “before distracting yourself with thoughts of courting this girl from the shops, and-”

“But Master-”

“Don’t “But Master” me.”

...He still should have been back at this point. Hisirdoux wasn’t one to wander off when he was out on errands. He knew the dangers of that - of being caught alone by the wrong person, prejudiced against users of magic, without anyone knowing where he really was.

The boy’s familiar shared Merlin’s worry, so Archie kept his form as a mostly-inconspicuous black cat (save for his glasses, for he figured he should have the best sight as he could at this moment) and slinked through the town beyond the castle, following the young wizard’s scent, unmistakably that of burnt cloves.

Sure enough, Hisirdoux had gone to the shops he’d needed to visit, but the scent trail made a sharp turn into an alley - one that he’d been dragged into, Archie had feared, if the signs of struggle and kicking feet in the cobble were any indication.

It was then that Archie resolved to fly back to the castle and tell Merlin to follow him, warning the Master Wizard that it was overwhelmingly likely that Hisirdoux didn’t disappear of his own volition.

To say that worried Merlin, or even terrified him, would’ve been the understatement of the past twelve centuries.

It only took a few hours to track down Hisirdoux’s trail to some cabin in a patch of forest, but every second was too long - far too long for Merlin to wait to find his son.

The thugs looked rudimentary from where Merlin stood unnoticed outside the clearing. One or two - three at the most - stood lazily outside, near the doors. Merlin tapped his staff against the forest ground, and it was enough to send a little spell through the soil and right under their feet, shooting up their bodies like a reverse lightning rod and knocking them to the ground, unconscious. It didn’t kill them, but that wasn’t a mercy; really, the wizard still hadn’t known the condition of his apprentice, and if something had been done to him that only these men could reverse, ending their lives would've been an unwise choice, to say the least.

But the sound of the men hitting the ground was enough to draw out the last two of Hisirdoux captors, who spotted Merlin in the woods. Fine - he hadn’t been keen on hiding for much longer anyway. Stealth was for wizards whose apprentices hadn’t been snatched up by lowly bandits; who weren’t using a headstrong facade to hide their fear for their sons’ lives.

And right now, while he rendered the last of the bandits unconscious, Merlin Ambrosius was no such wizard.

The door was still open, as Merlin dealt with the last of those men before they could even come five steps out of the shack, so the wizard ran to the opening with Archie flying next to him, stepping over the idiots until he was close enough to see into the dark interior, lit only by rays of light that shone in-between boards nailed into the windows.

Merlin hit his staff against the ground and cast a spell with enough to break the boards and let more light into the hovel - light that shined on his apprentice that lay trembling on the ground, unresponsive on his side, not even fighting the restraints that bound him. With his back turned to his mentor and his familiar, he seemed barely aware of their presence at all.

Merlin never ran faster in his life.

Thankful for his armor’s plating, one of his knees slammed against the ground as he knelt down behind Hisirdoux, looking over his bonds and feeling like, for once in his long, long life, he could barely breathe at the sight before him, even though it wasn’t nearly as bad as what could have been - it was more at the audacity than anything else.

His apprentice had been bound with rope at the ankles and knees, with another few winds of it pinning his arms to his back and metal shackles binding his wrists behind him. Of course, the shackles must have been cast with a magic nullifier infused in the cruel metal, so the boy couldn’t use spells or enchantments to break his other restraints; as if to add insult to injury, the boy was also missing his magic bracelet, which had been thrown across the hovel.

(Again, the audacity.)

Merlin knew one of the bandits must have had the key, so he got back up, telling Archie to stay with him before he went back to the cluster of idiots that lay outside the door.

The wizard watched the boy’s shackled hands grasp at the air as he reached for him in vain, and the weak twinge in his pale, thin fingers made something in Merlin’s cold aged heart ache . He wished he’d been a hundredfold more brutal with those bandits than simply knocking them out.

Anyway, it took only moments for him to get the key, and by the time he came back, picking up the boy’s charm bracelet on the way, Archie had broken the rest of Hisirdoux’s bonds.

The boy still hadn’t said a word, or even made a sound.

Confound it, Merlin loathed this.

Once he’d finally uncuffed Hisirdoux, he helped the boy, now entirely free of his bonds, into a sitting position. He was, indeed, quite conscious, his eyes following Archie as the familiar stepped onto his lap. Hisirdoux started petting the black cat before wrapping his gangly arms around the cat in a desperate hug, still as silent as he’d been when Merlin stormed in. He wouldn’t have any more of this… this vexing silence from his apprentice - not if it could’ve been helped.

(...If only he knew how little it could’ve been helped at that moment.)

“Hisirdoux, say something!”

The boy looked up at Merlin with wide, glistening eyes and a trembling lower lip.

He shook his head.

His lips contorted into a grimace, and he mouthed the words…

“I can’t.”

Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks as he put his hand on his throat, the skin on his wrist raw from the cruelty of those shackles, and shook his head. Those teary hazel eyes that looked at Merlin were exactly those of a terrified child - his terrified child, and Merlin could see the desperation in those eyes, like he was wordlessly begging him to do something.

...But for the first time in his long, long life, Merlin felt utterly and entirely unsure of a way to fix this. He knew how much his apprentice adored singing, humming, blathering incessantly - his voice almost seemed more central to his character than his magic.

And it was…

No, no, no. It couldn’t be - it couldn’t be gone. Those bandits couldn’t have taken this from him - not from his apprentice - not from that innocent moppet who almost always had a tune about him as he bumbled around the castle. No, Merlin couldn’t accept it - he - he wouldn’t accept it -

The old man was pulled from his shock when Hisirdoux sobbed, a heart-wrenching noise even without any vocal influence, and mouthed three words - a desperate plea from a terrified little Wizard, silent but understandable - silent but utterly heart-wrenching .

“Take me home.”

...And how could Merlin put that off?

With a sigh, he raised a hand and mumbled…

“Interminus Nocti Somburso.”

A jolt went through Hisirdoux’s already shaking body as green light popped out from his widened eyes - but only for a fleeting second before sleep claimed the boy. He fell backward, but Merlin caught him by putting his arm behind the boy’s back.

The spell not only made him fall sound asleep in seconds, but it also conjured a green, velvety blanket that draped over the boy. The velvety cloth, brought forth from Merlin’s will when he’d cast the spell, helped to keep the boy warm through means of a rather cozy enchantment that would never let him get cold as long as the blanket lay on him, as well as it would quell his unconscious trembling.

Merlin wrapped the boy up in a blanket-cocoon of sorts and stood up, letting Archie curl up on his human’s abdomen and start purring to soothe the sleeping boy whose head lolled against Merlin’s shoulder, his cheek pressed against an edge on his armor that couldn’t have been very comfortable.

Merlin glanced at the unconscious bandits and cast an immobilization spell as a quick preventative measure in the event that they woke up and tried getting away while Merlin took the boy back to the castle. There was no way in all the realms that these monsters - more monstrous than any troll or goblin - would get away with what they’d done, and the Master Wizard was absolutely sure of that.

So, with that settled, he started back to the castle with Hisirdoux sleeping in his arms. The bandits could wait, for getting his apprentice - his son home safe was his first and foremost priority, and beyond that was finding out how to get his boy’s voice back, even if he’d had to rip the answer from the bandits themselves.

But Hisirdoux, of course, was his priority.

---

Douxie felt more or less dragged back into consciousness by an ache in his… well, it was everywhere. It was low, barely noticeable - a residual soreness from… from…

Right.

He sighed - a hollow, quiet thing - and trailed his fingers down his throat, still not opening his eyes yet. Douxie’s throat was free of any tightness or pain, but, as he expected, his attempts to mumble out vocal sounds were fruitless.

Beyond the ache, he felt warmth around him. Yes, he felt the familiarity of his bed, his quarters, his -

A weight he didn’t even know he was still bearing came off of him, and he sighed a shaky sigh.

- his home.

But he also felt something soft and velvety draped around him. It was a blanket, he realized - a new one, and a rather nice one too. He realized Merlin must have conjured it with that sleep spell he put on him right after he found him. That must have been why it felt like it had been magically heated, and it had a uniquely soothing, almost sedative effect that none of his normal blankets had.

Master…

Douxie finally opened his eyes. Even though he knew his master probably had more pressing matters, he hoped that Merlin might have been sitting at his bedside.

Alas, all he saw was empty space in front of him.

The little apprentice wasn’t wearing his vest anymore, he realized when he couldn’t feel the leather that usually weighed on his torso, but he did feel a little purring mass curled up against his abdomen.

Archie…

The boy turned his head a little and saw a black mound of fluff nestled up against him, laying curled up on the green blanket with round little glasses reflecting sunset light from the window.

Douxie bent down and scratched Archie’s little head, right between his triangular ears, causing his familiar to open his eyes and look at him.

“Douxie, you’re awake.”

The boy smiled - a little, shaky thing. Archie got up and stretched before walking closer to his human’s face.

“It’s over now, what you went through today.” he said as he put his paw on Douxie’s cheek in assurance, “Those bandits are in the dungeons now.”

Douxie’s eyebrows furrowed a little. Sure, he was thankful that they’d been apprehended, but if there was a dungeon break, they could come right through the castle, and...

Archie nuzzled Douxie’s head, sensing his human’s worries.

“You’re completely safe.” he said, “You’ll never have to see them again, I promise.”

Douxie only petted the cat again with a nod. He trusted Archie, and if Archie said he didn’t have to worry about them again, then that’s exactly what he didn’t have to do.

Besides, he had a more pressing worry.

With what would have been a grunt if his throat could’ve made the noise, Douxie pushed himself up, despite his grogginess, into an upright position. He could see his vest folded at the foot of his bed, along with his two belts laying on top of it that had his little pouches and a small green journal he liked to keep on hand for little notes.

He might have to use it for more than that now, though. Perhaps if he’d started studying sign, or learned spells to communicate visually...

The boy was pulled from his thoughts by a very light knock on the door. He couldn’t exactly say it was open, so he turned to Archie, eyeing the door with a nod.

“Come in.” the cat said, understanding the nonverbal message.

The door creaked open, and Douxie hoped it would be Merlin standing there. After everything he’d gone through today… he just wanted to see his father.

But it was Morgana, smiling softly as she walked in and closed the door behind her.

But really, the boy wasn’t disappointed with this - the sorceress had been like a big sister to him ever since he’d been brought here, and her presence was comforting, regardless of whether or not she was the person he hoped to see the most. So, Douxie raised a hand and waved to her as she walked in.

“Hello, Little Douxie.” she said softly as she came to stand in front of him, “When I heard your familiar talking, I assumed you’d awoken. Are you feeling alright?”

Although it was a hesitant response, Douxie nodded, thankful that she’d stuck to a yes-or-no question. Merlin had probably told her about his voice’s condition, then.

What he knew about it, anyway.

“You’ve been asleep for about four hours - a long rest to help accelerate your healing.” she explained, “You hadn’t gotten any broken bones, but you did have some nasty bruises when you were brought back here.”

Douxie winced, a little hiss whistling through his teeth as he traced his hand over his hip, where he distinctly remembered getting kicked by a rather angry bandit with a rather hard boot.

Ouch.

He brought that same hand to his chin and stroked an invisible beard, glancing around the room as if looking for someone.

Morgana laughed a soft little laugh, amused by the moppet’s charade.

“Merlin’s down in the dungeons, interrogating your former captors.” she answered, “He’s mostly putting the screws to those bandits about how to reverse what’s happened to your voice more than anything else.”

Douxie nodded in understanding, but he knew the truth; he knew those bandits didn’t know anything about what had been done to his voice.

“He hasn’t gotten anywhere.” she said, putting her hands on her hips, “It’s of a magical nature, and none of those bandits were wizards. They’re sticking to some ridiculous testimony that you casted a silencing spell on yourself.”

Douxie cast his gaze to the floor. All of a sudden, the lint and strands of black cat fur on the floor looked rather interesting. Indeed, very interesting.

“...They are making that up, right?” Morgana asked.

Douxie shrunk in on himself, hugging himself as if caught in a lie, even though he hadn’t actually lied about anything. How could he have? At most, all he’d done was hesitate. Besides, his body language was apparently enough of an answer for Morgana, whose eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Douxie saw as his gaze flickered back up to her, as she realized they hadn’t made that up at all.

Archie’s eyebrows, indicated by the grey patches in his fur above his eyes, raised a bit as that realization dawned on him as well.

“Douxie…?”

The boy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“...Merlin doesn’t know, does he?” Morgana asked.

Douxie shook his head.

After a moment, she sighed.

“Well, he probably should.” she said, “Not that the way he’s treating those men isn’t undeserved, but he shouldn’t waste his time.”

So, Douxie stood up to go down to the dungeons, his balance just a little askew from his legs’ time out of use. Archie got up with a stretch and stood next to Douxie’s feet, deciding not to sit on his shoulders due to his already imperfect balance.

“I’ll go down with you.” Morgana said, sounding like it was more of an insistence than an offer. But Douxie didn’t want to be a burden; surely, Morgana le Fay had much better - certainly, more important uses of her time than using it to accompany him to the dungeons.

“I know the way.” he mouthed, hoping it was understandable just by reading his lips, but Morgana shook her head all the same.

“It’s not about whether or not you know the way.” she crossed her arms, “You still don’t have all your strength back, and I can tell you’re off balance. What if you fall?”

She didn’t say it, but Douxie could tell what her biggest concern was: if he got hurt, he’d have no way of crying out, and Archie might not be enough to keep him balanced.

Morgana was just worried, and Douxie knew that. It was sort of nice - better than Merlin’s scolding, anyway - so he took the gesture with a nod, and he started down the corridors and stairwells to the dungeons with Archie stepping alongside him and Morgana hovering a hand close to his shoulder in the event that his balance wavered.

Douxie always hated the dungeons - so dark, so damp and dingy, so utterly miserable. But making sure Merlin knew the truth was worth it, and he was glad to be accompanied down. Yes, it was even worth sidestepping puddles of questionable liquids as he stayed next to Morgana. He kept his gaze down and avoided looking into the cells, tuning out the jeers of imprisoned trolls and “waka-chakas” of goblins as Morgana guided Douxie and Archie to the corridor where that gang of bandits was being kept.

It turned out that they were imprisoned in a far emptier corridor of the dungeon, which made sense, considering any sort of interrogation would’ve done well not to involve the taunting and interjecting of other prisoners. As the halls got quieter, it got easier to hear his master’s voice as he got closer, until he finally stood at the end of an almost empty corridor of cells, where Merlin stood listening to one of the bandits - the leader, Douxie realized.

Whoever he was, and whatever he was saying, Merlin looked more than fed up with it; he hadn’t even looked as angry as he did right now when the moppet had slipped and accidentally sent one of Merlin’s favorite books soaring into his fireplace.

“I tol’ ya already, dust-fer-brains,” the bandit said, speaking in a voice that unsettled Douxie to his core, even though he was safe on the opposite side of a barred cell door and on the opposite end of the hall, “He put a spell on ‘imself. Shut ‘imself up.”

Morgana was only a moment away from shouting to the end of the hall in an attempt to get Merlin’s attention. If Douxie had his voice, Merlin most certainly would have known he was here by now; he probably would have mumbled to himself about nonsense, or hummed a tune, or squeaked when something scared him. As it was, Merlin had no idea that Douxie was standing just a handful of metres away from him.

And maybe if he did know, he wouldn’t have shouted…

“Again, with that ridiculous lie! Hisirdoux may be an idiot, but even that level of incompetence is beyond him!”

Those words were a punch to the gut, worse than every time those bandits kicked him this afternoon. At least he expected that from them, but hearing that…

His breaths got shaky. His eyes stung. His feet felt rooted to the dungeon floor, like he was more trapped here than the prisoners.

He was no stranger to Merlin’s harshness, and he knew his master thought he was an idiot, but hearing that this was something of a new level of incompetence…

Was it really that much of a stupid idea?

His lip trembled.

What was he thinking, of course it was stupid. Of course he was stupid. A stupid, incompetent numbskull of an apprent-

“MERLIN!” Morgana yelled.

The Master Wizard whipped his head around. When he laid eyes on the shaking moppet at Morgana’s side, his face fell, as if he wished more than anything that he could’ve pulled his words back into his mouth and made them unheard again.

But it was too late.

In an instant, Douxie didn’t feel rooted to the ground anymore. No. Now it felt like hot coals lay burning under his feet, and he needed to run. Fuzzbuckets, he needed to run.

“Hisirdoux…”

Douxie’s tears fell.

He needed to run, run, runrunrunrun RUN.

So, he ran.

Pivoting on his heel so fast he scraped the heel of his boot against the dungeon ground, he ran away from the corridor.

“Hisirdoux!”

“Douxie!”

His eyes stung so badly with tears that he couldn’t open them, but he knew the dungeon corridors well enough that he didn’t need to see to get out of there. He could tell Archie was at his side, but that was okay. He knew his familiar wasn’t trying to stop him, but only to catch up to him.

By the time he got to the stairwell back into the non-dungeony part of the castle, he’d gotten winded, and just barely in earshot, he could hear Merlin and Morgana getting in a shouting match.

It sounded like Morgana was winning.

Once he’d caught his breath, he ran up the stairwell and half-ran-half-stumbled to his room, making sure Archie slipped through the door before slamming it. His legs shook as he sat on his bed, curling his legs up so his knees almost touched his chest, which felt so tight that he could barely breathe without gasping.

It was too much. All of it, everything that happened - it was too much for one day, and he -

He could feel Archie drape that blanket from earlier over his shoulders - the green velvety one. The warm one. The one from -

Douxie shook his head and wrapped the fabric around himself. It was fine, he didn’t care who it was from. He just needed warmth; he needed heat that didn’t come from his face feeling like it was on fire and hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

After a few moments, keeping his legs curled up like that started to ache, so he stretched them out and let his feet lay on the floor while he sat at the edge of the bed, leaving a perfect spot in his lap for Archie to sit and start purring in that way that always calmed him down after his nightmares.

Maybe, Douxie thought as he stroked the cat in his lap while his torso rocked back and forth, Archie could calm him down from this nightmare, too - one he couldn’t seem to wake up from.

There was a tightness in his throat now, an awful one - not from the spell, but from being overwhelmed by all of this.

Today was one of the most terrifying days of his life.

He’d been ripped off the streets by bandits and taken where he wasn’t sure if he’d be found, or even be looked for. He’d been bound and chained and beaten and terrified. He didn’t even have his voice, and of course, Merlin thought he was more stupid for doing what he did than usual, even though he only did it because - because -

Douxie hugged the cat in his lap and let more tears stream down his face, and he realized there was one upside to not having his voice after all.

He didn’t need to stifle his cries.

---

Merlin was no stranger to guilt, to shame. He didn’t often make mistakes, but when he did, they were horrendous ones, and despite his sense of pride being strong enough that it could power a whole trollmarket, he’d had many opportunities to find himself well acquainted with the feeling that he’d done something horribly wrong.

But when he saw his apprentice’s wide eyes shine with tears at the end of that hall, shame didn’t feel like a mere acquaintance, but an inseparable companion.

He’d barely gotten the boy’s name out of his mouth before he turned on his heel and ran out of the corridor, his familiar running behind him. Merlin shouted the boy’s name again and started after him, but since he wasn’t weighed down by any armor, the gangly little moppet ran off rather fast, despite how exhausted he must have been.

Stopping at the corner of the dungeon corridor, Merlin put his hand to his forehead and groaned.

“Look what you’ve done, old man!” he heard Morgana shout next to him.

“It’s not as if I knew he’d be down here.” he brought his hand away from his face, “I thought he was still resting. How was I supposed to know you’d taken him down here?”

Morgana’s eyes widened, seemingly at his absurdity.

“So you’re saying that’s a fine thing to say about him when he isn’t around? That there’s nothing wrong with calling that boy - your apprentice - an idiot and making clear just how stupid you think he is, as long as he’s out of earshot?”

“You’ve seen the way that boy bungles every task he’s given. Really, it would be especially idiotic if he’d put a-”

“What do you think he came down here to tell you, old man?!”

...Oh.

Oh, confound it all.

Morgana pinched the bridge of her nose, “Honestly, and you wonder why his magic backfires whenever you’re around! How can he grow his confidence when you-”

“Why would he do that, Morgana?”

“Why would I know ?” she answered his question with one of her own, “As soon as I found out, I figured you should know. Better to stop wasting your time grilling these numbskulls over nothing. If you want to know so bad, go and ask him.”

But facing the most fierce of trolls had been less jarring a task.

His other apprentice crossed her arms, “You owe him an apology, old man. We both know that.”

And, as frustrating as it was, Merlin knew that indeed.

The wizard figured that Hisirdoux ran to his room, and when he got to the door, he found he was right; he could hear the boy’s hiccups and voiceless sobs from the other side, far more heartbreaking in their quietness than if they had been loud.

Merlin knocked on the door.

“Hisirdoux…”

He honestly wasn’t expecting to be let in at all, so he was surprised to see the door glow blue as Hisirdoux opened it with a spell. If this was a lighter time, he would have scolded the boy for using a spell so needlessly. But this obviously wasn’t a lighter time, and he was just glad to be allowed in.

Hisirdoux sat on the edge of his bed with the blanket he’d been given draped over his shoulders and a contemptuous black cat in his lap. His hair was still unkempt from his ordeal, completely loose from the bun he usually wore, and tears streaked his cheeks. His big hazel eyes, puffy and ringed with tears, stared down at the ground.

He couldn’t even look Merlin in the eye, and perhaps that was fair.

As Merlin stepped into the room, Hisirdoux shrunk in on himself, pulling more of the blanket around him as if it would shield him from… well, everything.

“I hope you’re here to apologize.” Archie said coldly, but the feline-dragon obviously meant something else, an unspoken message: If you’re not here to apologize, then leave. The boy’s had enough turmoil today.

But he was here to apologize.

After years of trying to prepare for everything he could as a Master Wizard, he knew as he stood there that he was unprepared for what to say, standing here in front of Hisirdoux. He had no speech prepared, no ageless wisdom or proverbs. He wasn’t ready.

...But he knew that his apprentice sitting on the edge of the bed, staring glassy eyed at the floor with tears streaking his cheeks - tears of the old man’s own doing - had gone through too much today that he wasn’t ready for, that he could never be ready for. Far too much.

And he deserved better than to have to wait for an apology.

“Hisirdoux, I’m sorry.”

His apprentice lifted his head and looked up at him, eyes widened and eyebrows raised as if he never in a million years expected to hear an apology of all things from him. But what did he expect, then? A scolding? A lecture on how dangerous what he did was?

A moment later, Merlin realized that was probably exactly what the boy expected, and on all levels except physical, the wizard was whacking himself in the head with his staff right now.

He knelt down on one knee in front of Hisirdoux, both because he wanted to be on eye level with the boy and because he couldn’t stand the thought of him feeling looked down upon any longer.

“The things I said to those men in the dungeons were products of anger, fabrications of desperation.” Merlin said, “I’d been furious at those lowlifes and their audacity, and I said things that weren’t true. It wasn’t fair to say that, especially not after all you’ve gone through today. Forgive me, Hisirdoux.”

But the boy looked like he didn’t know what to say, even if he could’ve spoken. He looked at the old Wizard with wide eyes that still glistened with tears - tears that seemed to have been there ever since Merlin first found Hisirdoux in that shack. Even his familiar seemed surprised by his apology, and to be completely honest, Merlin didn’t blame either of them.

Hisirdoux broke his gaze away and looked down, to his left.

Patting around, the boy’s hand landed on his little green journal and a charcoal stick he kept with it, both clipped to his belt that lay on top of his folded vest. When Hisirdoux opened the book and started to write in the first blank piece of parchment he could flip to, Merlin looked away. He didn’t want to pry - he’d done enough as it was.

After a few seconds of scribbling, Archie stepped on the parchment.

“That’s not true, Douxie.” he said about whatever the boy had written, “You shouldn’t say that about yourself, especially not now.”

But the boy just sighed and started writing again, the motion in his hand leaving Archie no choice but to take his paw off.

After a few more moments, Douxie flipped the book around to show Merlin.

“It’s alright, Master. I know I’m an idiot.” he’d written in that shoddy penmanship of his.

Right, that must’ve been what Archie denied.

“I know there’s a lot I mess up and don’t think through, and I know that most of the time, I can be awfully incompetent, but using that spell is one of the few times where I know that did something smart.”

Merlin sighed.

“But why did you do it, Hisirdoux?”

Hisirdoux hesitated, but Archie looked up at the boy with the same question in mind, and that seemed to be what convinced him to answer.

But this time, he set the journal and charcoal aside. Instead of using those tools to communicate, he brought his hands out in front of him. With the way his hands started to tremble, he was obviously about to cast a nonverbal spell.

Archie stepped back a few paces, “It seems he’d rather show than tell.”

Merlin didn’t think Hisirdoux was in the right state to carry out any sort of spells right now, weakened as he was, but nonetheless, he didn’t stop the boy.

In the future, Hisirdoux would become capable of more powerful spells as his experience grew, and one such spell would be able to create vivid - albeit ghostly - life-size apparitions that replay events of the past in to-scale space. But this wasn’t the future, and he was nowhere near that strong or experienced yet. All he could manage was a little phantom-ish playthrough of events in the little space in front of him, like he was holding in his hands a hazy, blue-tinted window into the past.

Even then, “hazy” was an understatement. The several figures that seemed to be huddled a bit away from where Hisirdoux must’ve been (Merlin rightly assumed the vision in front of him was from the boy’s point of view) looked distorted and grainy, barely distinguishable as those bandits from before. What else, their voices were fuzzy, dreadful murmurs overlapping on top of each other until they were almost indistinguishable.

Merlin couldn’t tell if this haziness in memory reflected how much of a blur the events were in the boy’s mind, or if this was just the best Hisirdoux could manage.

It seemed not to be the latter though, because he squeezed his eyes shut and curled his fingers a little, obviously trying to use more of his strength to make the events more clear. His efforts actually worked, much to a worried Merlin’s surprise and worry, and the bandits’ voices became much easier to hear, their awful words far more enunciated.

“This was probably a stupid move.” one of them said, “How’re we s’posed to know that wizard gives a rat’s tail about ‘is errand boy, anyway?”

“If he does, imagine the coin we could get ou’o it.” said another voice Merlin knew was the leader.

“An’ if not, we’re stuck wit’ a brat from the castle.” yet another said, followed by a thwack sound that must have been the leader smacking him in the head, if the distorted movement of the figures was any indication.

“If not , we’ve got a vault o’ information on all those wizard-y secrets they keep in th’ castle. Maybe stuff abou’ the king, too.” the insidious leader corrected, “We can beat it ou’a ‘im if we ‘ave to.”

“Not much to beat though, is there?” another bandit joked, “Gangly little brat.”

Then the view changed, and Hisirdoux’s own trembling hands came into focus. Through the phantom replay, his ghostly fingers’ movements were light but hasty as he tapped his bracelet. This must have been before his captors had the idea to restrain him, but Hisirdoux was clearly afraid they’d get the idea soon (and rightly so, as the condition Merlin found him in made clear that they obviously had), so as soon as his bracelet glowed, he whispered…

“Vox Silentii.”

Immediately, Hisirdoux gasped in the vision. The noise became more hollow with each passing millisecond, as if - no, because his voice fell away just as fast, sucked away by the enchantment.

And it got the bandits’ attention, shown clearly by the nightmarish figures turning to face him.

“Sod it, I thought you stuck the cuffs on ‘im already!” the leader yelled to one of the other bandits, and whether it was at the display of incompetence, or out of sheer relief that his self-destructive spell worked, Hisirdoux laughed. It was a hollow, raspy, voiceless thing, but clearly a laugh all the same - a laugh that carried on until the leader marched over and raised his boot and -

The spell dissipated, and though it only lasted a few moments, it clearly took a lot out of an already weakened Hisirdoux in the present, whose arms fell to his sides as he started to sway, his eyes rolling back as his eyelids fluttered.

“Hisirdoux!” Merlin exclaimed, reaching out to steady him.

Before the boy could collapse, Merlin put one hand on his shoulder and the other against his head, cradling the side of it. Internally, he cursed himself, for he knew he should have told Hisirdoux not to carry out that vision spell, and to simply stick to writing out an answer. He’d already been exhausted by both the stress of his ordeal and the lingering effects of whatever nullifier was in his cuffs, and his magic, like everything else, was weakened, and the toll it took on him was far higher than usual.

But it hadn’t exhausted him completely. Though it took a moment, Hisirdoux put his hands down on the bed on either side of him to help keep himself upright, and his tired, tired eyes opened again.

“That spell…” Merlin pulled his hands away, “I had you study it in the event that you encountered another wizard with harmful intentions, so you could cut them off from saying an incantation at your expense.”

Fumbling to get his journal again, Hisirdoux quickly jotted something down and held up, “and sirens.”

“And you knew you couldn’t reverse the spell without a vocal incantation, didn’t you? An incantation you knew those bandits couldn’t perform.”

Hisirdoux nodded, and Merlin sighed. As much as the boy bumbled around as he did his chores, seeming at times like there was naught a competent thought to be found in that brain of his, he was clever. Even when it came to sabotaging himself, he was clever.

But somehow, that cleverness coincided with recklessness in a way that only Hisirdoux Casperan could manage.

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? If you’d botched the spell, it could have closed up your windpipe, or-”

“This isn’t the time for scolding him, Merlin.” Archie reprimanded. There had been few times where the Master Wizard adhered to the advisings of a cat with glasses, but for his apprentice’s sake, this was one of those times.

Hisirdoux got his journal again and wrote…

“I’d never been tortured like that before. I didn’t know if I could’ve handled it.”

The thought of his apprentice - that sweet, gangly moppet who’d been bested by his own broom once - enduring any sort of torture made the Master Wizard’s skin crawl. He almost wanted to convince King Arthur that those bandits’ transgressions warranted far more harsh treatment than wallowing in their own despicability in the dungeons, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was focusing on Hisirdoux right now, he would go to the throne room right now.

But as it was, Merlin thought Hisirdoux was probably right; it was obvious that he had never endured torture, or…

Merlin reconsidered when he remembered that the boy knew how to use sleep spells that caused permanent memory loss.

...None that Hisirdoux himself could recall, at least.

“It’s not that I would’ve wanted to say anything.” he wrote on a new page, “I was scared I’d blurt something out. And I got knocked out before I woke up there, so I didn’t know where I was, so I didn’t try running away. It was the smartest thing I could think of.”

...Of course. Of course that’s what this was. Of course the boy would’ve taken such a drastic measure, but for what ? So those lowlife scoundrels didn’t have an upper hand, an advantage over a Master Wizard? No, it was too late for that, for they already had the biggest advantage over Merlin that they could’ve held in their grasp; they had his son, the one individual he would always put above the greater good, as a hostage.

Really, not only was Hisirdoux the only apprentice Merlin ever had who was as clever as he was reckless, but the only one who was as selfless as he was reckless - a combination that Merlin couldn’t decide whether or not he was more proud of or worried about.

“...I can reverse the spell now, you know.” he said, “Now that I know which spell you used, I can use a counterspell.”

The little Wizard’s eyes widened hopefully, as if the prospect of a counterspell was a shock.

“Oh, come now, Hisirdoux. Surely you knew-”

Oh.

He stopped.

No.

“Wait a moment… you did know another wizard can cast a counterspell to reverse the effects and restore your voice, did you not?”

As his eyebrows upturned, making him look like a scolded puppy, the boy shook his head.

...Oh, sod it all.

If Merlin Ambrosius were a swearing man, he’d have a sailor’s tongue right now.

Hisirdoux didn’t think the spell could be reversed, and he did it anyway. He thought it would be permanent, and he did it anyway. For all that boy knew, he’d taken his own voice away forever; he’d taken what he’d always used to blather on about nonsense and sing his heart out (albeit very off-key), and he destroyed it.

Merlin put his hand to his forehead, only pulling it down when he heard the boy scribbling again.

“Making sure they didn’t find out anything about wizards felt more important.” he’d written in frantic scribbles, “Or Camelot, or King Arthur, or Morgana, or you, Master.”

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So you thought this would’ve been permanent,” he tried to keep his voice level, “that you would have lost your voice forever, and you did it anyway, just to nullify the hair-slim possibility that you might have revealed some secret to those idiots?”

Hisirdoux looked down and wrote again.

“It felt like-”

No.

No, no, no.

Merlin saw the words at the end of that page, but he did not want to read them. Reading them made them real…

...But they would be real whether he read them or not, and he knew that.

“It felt like the greater good.”

Merlin never thought he could hate that concept as much as he did right now.

No, the greater good was something for him to prioritize - him and him alone, and it never came at the cost of the safety and wellbeing of his son. If it did cost him that, then let the greater good fester and crumble to dust.

Hisirdoux curled his arms and hugged himself, looking down at Archie as the feline nuzzled his arm to soothe him. As much as it pained him to see the boy like this, he couldn’t bring himself to comfort him - not when he had a solution right at his fingertips.

“Hisirdoux, do you want your voice back?”

The boy lifted his head and nodded, almost pleading with his eyes, as if there was ever a chance of Merlin denying him the return of his voice.

The wizard raised his hand and said…

“Vox restituet.”

Hisirdoux gasped, just as he did with his own spell, but it’s effect was contrary to that of the former enchantment; the sound became less and less hollow with each fleeting millisecond as the boy’s voice came back to him.

When his breathing fell back into its normal pace, Hisirdoux traced his fingers down his throat.

“Master…”

His voice sounded so hoarse, so little, but it was there , and as soon as Hisirdoux realized that, his whole body seemed to relax in relief that he probably didn’t even let himself feel when he’d first been rescued.

Merlin was relieved too, but it was outweighed by so much - most of all, by the contempt he still held for those bandits down in the dungeons for making his apprentice feel like he needed to do this to himself, and by the guilt he still felt for what he said down there.

Not only was his relief outweighed, but it was also short-lived.

“...I’m sorry.”

No. No, Hisirdoux did not just say that.

Out of all the things Merlin expected his apprentice to say… at best, he expected thanks for restoring his voice, and at worst, he expected him to voice how upset and hurt he still must’ve been for the things he said about him down in the dungeons. But never, never in a millenia, did he expect an apology.

“Whatever for?” Merlin asked. Truly, whatever for? Hisirdoux had done nothing but endure; but withstand circumstances beyond unfit for those as innocent as him, and do what he thought would protect what was important to him at a cost that Merlin himself could barely imagine - could barely conceptualize even now.

“I really really didn’t mean for this to be such a hassle,” Hisirdoux answered, coughing from his voice’s disuse, “and I’m really not upset about what you said in the dungeons. Everything was just too much, and back there, with the bandits, I just didn’t want to put you in danger-”

“No, Hisirdoux.” Merlin declared, putting two of his fingers against one of his temples. It seemed like now that Hisirdoux could speak again, there was a backlog to his blathering. “None of that.”

Hisirdoux’s eyebrows upturned with that scolded puppy look again, “None of what?”

“None of this…” Merlin gestured vaguely, “throwing yourself in harm’s way for my sake. There’s no sense in that. It is not your job to fling yourself into self-destruction in what you think is my best interest. You are my apprentice, Hisirdoux.”

You are my son . Merlin didn’t say.

“And it is my job to protect you, not the other way around.” he told Hisirdoux with no room for argument, “Your job is to focus on your studies and the tasks I ask of you. Should you ever find yourself at someone else’s mercy again, your first priority should be keeping yourself unharmed, or as close to such a state as possible. Secrets can be stopped from spreading, and memories can be wiped, but you are-"

He almost said invaluable, but he stopped himself; though he himself knew the word meant to be priceless or crucial, he feared for the chance that his apprentice could take the word to have a completely opposite meaning, that he was not valuable at all.

"You are indispensable, Hisirdoux.”

Merlin loathed the look of disbelief on the boy’s face when he heard that, but he continued.

“Whatever it entails, self-preservation should come before all else until you’re rescued, because you will be rescued.”

Hisirdoux nodded - a little, minute thing.

“I understand, Master.”

Merlin stood up.

“You must be starving.” he said, “I’ll have something prepared and brought here. You should go back to sleep until then.”

Hisirdoux nodded and pulled the green blanket over his shoulders again, the cloth having fallen off sometime a bit ago, after Merlin came in.

The boy looked down in thought as if remembering something before raising his head again.

“...They didn’t have what you asked for. At the marketplace. Every shop and stand came up empty.” Hisirdoux said, apologetic for the lack of the one thing he’d been sent out to fetch - as if it even mattered after all of this.

No, if anything, the whole errand being for nothing was just another frustration of the day, mundane - no, trivial in the face of everything else.

Also, it brought another pressing matter to the Master Wizard’s attention.

“That’s quite alright.” Merlin said, “If anything, that reminds me: clearly, it’s far too dangerous for you to go on errands in town unaccompanied. As my apprentice, there are many unfavorable people looking to get an advantage over me and use you as leverage to do so, just like those bandits tried today. So, for the time being, you’ll be chaperoned on your future errands outside the castle.”

“But-” he started, but, as if he remembered what Merlin always said when he tried to question him, he cut himself off and nodded, still looking deflated nonetheless.

“It’s a necessary precaution at this point, Hisirdoux.” Merlin said, “Even if it gets in the way of you trying to get the attention of that girl at the shops.”

The boy’s cheeks tinted pink.

“It’s not about her!” he yelped, his voice’s strength obviously coming back rather quickly, “You already told me not to focus on that, and I didn’t even try talking to her today.”

“You never try talking to her, Douxie.” Archie said, pacing around the boy. But Hisirdoux didn’t let himself get distracted by his familiar teasing him.

“It’s…”

He sighed.

“...I don’t want to be a burden.” he confessed, “There are so many more important things to be done around here. Why should anyone waste their time coming with me on errands?”

At this, Merlin realized that it was his turn to sigh. If there was a spell Merlin could use to cast such insecurity from the boy’s head, he would have cast it now. But, much to his frustration, he couldn’t (at least, not without facing something of a moral dilemma over the ethics of mind control). So, simple reassurance would have to do.

“Hisirdoux…”

He placed his free hand - the one not holding onto his staff - on the boy’s shoulder, causing him to look up at the old wizard with wide, questioning eyes.

“Keeping you safe isn’t a burden.” Merlin assured, “I would rather take a few hours out of the day to accompany you, or even complete those errands on my own, than ever have a repeat occurrence of what happened today.”

“...Alright.” Hisirdoux said, although obviously reluctant.

Merlin took his hand off of his shoulder.

“Now, you’re to keep resting the rest of the night, and likely for much of tomorrow, so-”

“But Master-”

“-Don’t “But Master” me.” he said, “Just rest.”

The heaviness in the boy’s eyelids made clear how much he needed that rest, and thankfully, Hisirdoux didn’t contest that.

“Yes, Master.”

#yesterday we were making jokes about moppet getting stuck to walls... how did we get here #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #moppet!douxie #tales of arcadia #toa #wizards #toa wizards #my writing #merlin #Merlin Ambrosius #whump #wizard dad isn't as good in this one as in my other fic guys sorry 😔#fic: what's the greater good worth? (definitely not this)

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tsukishumai · 3 years

Note

17 and 42 for Atsumu please

pairing: miya atsumu x gn!reader

word count: 500+

17. “I’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate” & 42. “Darling, I love you, but please step out of the kitchen.”

a/n: dude,,, i know it’s been like 3 months,,, so i hope u don’t hate me,,, if u even still follow me 😭

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Atsumu liked to think that he was great at following instructions.

It was never an issue with him before. Sure, he can be a little difficult sometimes, maybe even a little overconfident in his abilities, but nevertheless, he knew when it was time for him to listen.

Still, he wouldn’t be Miya Atsumu if he didn’t add his own flair.

And just like things always seemed to work out for him on the court, that’s exactly what he expected for himself when he took on this endeavor.

But the kitchen was unforgiving.

He’s not sure what went wrong between step four and step seven, but he was almost positive he followed the recipe down to a tee. Yet no matter how long he whisks, he cannot get his meringue to form stiff peaks.

“Atsumu?” He hears you call from the door, and he was simultaneously panicked, yet relieved. “I’m home!”

“Welcome home,” he grumbles, testing different settings on the mixer and hoping to get the results he’d been desperately aiming for.

“What… are you doing?” Your question was cautious but curious as you walked into the battle zone.

Atsumu huffed, lightly hitting his palm against the counter in frustration. He’s asked himself that question much too often within the past hour. What the hell was he doing? He’s never spent more than twenty minutes in the kitchen, and that’s only if he was taste testing.

“I was really hoping to have had this done before ya got home, but the damn thing just ain’t cooperating.” He scratches the side of his head.

You glanced at the egg-stained piece of paper he had on the counter before picking up and examining the various ingredients that were strewn about across the counters.

A small grin spread across your lips, and it wasn’t the oven making Atsumu’s face hot.

“Samu gave me the recipe for that strawberry roll up cake ya liked so damn much, and I swear I followed every step —“

You laughed before throwing your arms around his neck, softly placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. His hands instantly found their place on your hips, and he pulled you closer into him.

“I’m sure you did, but this,” you reached around him and picked up the tiny container unassumingly placed beside the bag of flour, “is baking powder. The recipe says baking soda.”

Atsumu blinked.

“And this,” you grabbed a jar, “is tartar sauce. And you needed cream of tartar.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the same thing,” he argued, and he felt the vibrations of your laughter all over his chest.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not, Tsumu.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate,” he leans down and nuzzles his face into your neck, “who’s gonna love and eat anything I make for ya, ain’t that right?”

You smacked his chest before pulling away from your boyfriend’s embrace.

He instantly misses the warmth.

“Darling, I love you, but please step out of the kitchen,” you order, gathering all the dirty utensils and pans and playing them in the sink, “before you accidentally make a brand new poison.”

You yelp when Atsumu smacks your butt. His scoffs and snickers fill the room as he starts to get to work on the dishes, scrubbing away at any evidence of his failure.

“Hey, ya think they’d give me some award for that?”

He barely manages to dodge the rag you threw at his face.

#I know it’s midnight but like this just popped into my head and I had to crank it out right quick ya feel me #is anyone awake LOL omg I hope someone sees this #miya atsumu #atsumu #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu drabbles #miya atsumu scenarios #atsumu fluff #atsumu drabbles #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu imagines #miya atsumu imagines

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

How To Stop Time: Touch

Request: Please could you do a soulmate au where time stops when solemates touch for the first time with draco 💞

A/N: Another soulmate AU and for Draco? It’s like you’re treating me, I swear. You must know how much of a sucker I am for this man. Thank you so much for requesting this, nonnie! I hope I’ve done it justice! <3

Warnings: swearing - it’s a load of fluff and me waxing lyrical about the history of soulmates... again.

Word count: 2.1k

The magic surrounding the tale of soulmates is so powerful that it is said time stops when soulmates finally touch.

The eldest witches and wizards in the magical community believe that in response to the muggle witch hunts across history, and particularly, the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the soulmate bond was created as a way for witches and wizards to identify their other half without the risk of increased danger.

To tiny witches and wizards, they grow up on this tale. They relish in the belief that their love for their soulmate is so powerful that time will stop once they touch; spurred on by the tales of their parents and grandparents before them who had found their soulmate in the other. Across the world, tiny witches and wizards curl up in their bed, dreaming of how time will stop the moment they find their soulmate.

-----

As you progressed in your education at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, countless numbers of your friends found their soulmates. Each of them bounding up to you giddily as they each explained how time stopped the moment they touched their soulmate, and how it felt like time would always stop whenever they looked at them.

As you entered your seventh year and you still hadn’t found your soulmate, you began to question whether you had one. For a small percentage of the wizarding population, they did not have a soulmate, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing – those without a soulmate felt the freedom of being able to choose who they loved and who they dedicated their life to. However, as a teenager watching their friends fall in love around them, you were desperate to know if you had one.

Sure, you had crushes. The longest one being on the blonde-haired Malfoy heir, and the part of you that dreams at night, wonders whether it could be him for it seemed that he hadn’t found the person that made time stop for him either.

-------

To say you were frustrated would be an understatement.

NEWT exams were rapidly approaching yet you felt no more confident with your potions ability than you did at the beginning of the year. You had barely scraped by to get into Slughorn’s Advanced Potions class but scrape by you did and now you find yourself questioning why you had ever taken the class.

Not to mention the fact that your soulmate was still to make an appearance. Your closest friend, Sam had found his soulmate in a Ravenclaw boy named James – they were lovely together, but the anxiety of not having found your soulmate as well as the upcoming exams diminished your happiness for them.

They comforted you; promising that you would find your soulmate soon and that you would pass your exams without fail. And though they tried their hardest, you found it hard to believe them.

Instead, you take matters into your own hands, pushing all thoughts of soulmates and your lack of one to the back of your mind as you approach Professor Slughorn after class in which a practical had gone drastically wrong. He agreed to help; promising he would call on you when he found it.

You left the classroom feeling somewhat at ease with his words. You may not have found your soulmate, but you’ll be damned if you don’t pass your exams.

Professor Slughorn calls on you on a Thursday evening; sending a note with a first year to your common room asking you to join him in his classroom. You head straight there, pulling on a jumper as you leave the common room.

“Miss (Y/L/N), thank you for joining us.” Professor Slughorn greets as you enter the classroom, taking in the sight of him and Draco Malfoy.

“Of course, Professor.” You say, sitting in the empty seat next to Draco.

Slughorn smiles at the two of you, “You approached me at the end of our last lesson, Miss (Y/L/N), asking for extra help with Potions, is that right?”

“I did, sir.”

“I spoke to Draco after we had our conversation, and he’s more than happy to tutor you, isn’t that right?”

Draco crosses a leg over the other, “It is. I’m more than happy to help.”

Slughorn claps his hands together, pleased at the fact that he’s sorted this between you both. “I’ll leave my classroom free for you both on Saturday, that way you won’t be disturbed.”

You stand from your seat, smiling at the professor and Draco. “Thank you.” You look at Draco, “I guess I’ll see you Saturday.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach as you leave Slughorn’s classroom.

-----------

Saturday arrives, and you hold back a yawn as you push open the door to Slughorn’s classroom. The chill of the morning and your residual tiredness has you pulling the sleeves of your cardigan down to cover your hands; hoarding any warmth possible.

“I know it’s early, but I went to the kitchens and the Elves were more than happy to wrap us up some warm pastries and give a flask of tea.” Draco greets.

He holds out a small cup of tea, steam still rising. You take it from him, letting the warmth fill your hands and then flow through your body as you take that first sip.

“Thank you, Draco.” You say, taking a bite of the breakfast pastry, moaning softly at the taste of butter and jam.

Draco smiles as he takes a bite of his own. “I thought we’d follow Slughorn’s curriculum, so we aren’t missing anything out. That means we start with Amortentia, is that okay?”

You nod, continuing to eat your breakfast.

Draco smirks, “Besides, it means I get to find out if you have a crush on anyone.”

You snort, “It goes both ways, I believe, Draco. I get to see if you have a crush too.”

Draco laughs, blushing lightly. He potters around the classroom, gathering the ingredients as you sip your tea. Watching him, you realise how attractive Draco truly is. Once you got past the hard exterior; removed the mask he so often wore, he was soft and gentle.

You had always harboured a small crush on the teenager titled the Slytherin Prince. You briefly wonder whether the love potion would smell like him.

Draco places jars and vials of ingredients on the table before collecting his cauldron from where he had placed it on the floor. He plants it on the stand before murmuring the warming charm so the bottom can heat up as he prepares the ingredients in the order that he needs them.

Draco instructs you through the potion; pausing every now and then for you to take down any notes. As you dip your quill in the ink pot for the fourth time, you think that Draco would make the perfect professor – he has a knack with words making explanations easier and relating them in a manner that are easily understood. Not to mention his passion for the subject comes across so clearly as he gestures with his hands and smiles all through his explanations.

He pauses part way through a sentence, “Let me know if I’m rambling too much, won’t you?”

“Of course, but I enjoy listening to you speak – you clearly love this subject, Draco.”

He looks away sheepishly, reading over the instructions he’s already memorised. “I’d like to be a Potions Professor once we leave here.”

“You’d be brilliant at it,” You reply immediately, “You have a talent for this, I already feel more confident in my potions ability.”

His blush from earlier returns as he murmurs, “Thank you. What are your plans for after?”

“I think I’d like to do something in the ministry; in the archives I think.”

Draco nods, understanding, “I’ve seen you in History of Magic. You’d suit the archives, with all the old documents.”

You laugh, “I just think the history of our society is so interesting.”

“You’d be a good professor, (Y/N).” Draco whispers.

“Let’s hope Professor Binns finally retires then,” You start, “That way we can work together.” You internally groan at your shoddy attempt at flirting, but Draco doesn’t seem to notice. He chuckles, “We’d make a good team.”

You stare down at your notes, fiddling with your quill, so Draco doesn’t see the giddy expression on your face.

Draco looks back to his instructions, glancing over the final few steps. He stirs the mixture clockwise for three more minutes before steam begins to rise from the cauldron.

He sits back into his seat, “There we go. All done.”

For a single minute, you watch the steam rise from the potion. Draco brewed it so effortlessly that you wonder where you had gone wrong the first time you attempted it. But with his instructions and his tutelage, you know that you would be able to brew it again successfully.

Temptation rises within you; the urge to lean over Draco’s cauldron and take a whiff of the potion becomes too much. Draco sees you shift in your chair, “Go on then,” he prompts, “What does it smell like?”

The fumes from the potion make your head spin slightly. They smell of something you’ve smelled before; of something you’ve been in close contact with recently.

Burnt sugar and rain give way to the delicate smell of roses.

And it hits you all of a sudden – you’re smelling the teenager sat next to you. Your heart races as you come to the realisation that the crush you had been harbouring for the blonde-haired teenager had evolved into something more.

The desperate thought runs through your head. The pleading thought of: please let him be my soulmate.

If you were already feeling this strongly about Draco, it would be hell on earth to find out that his soulmate was actually another.

“What did you smell then?” Draco asks as you sit back down in your chair.

You avoid his eyes as you say, “I’ll tell you once you have a smell.”

Draco frowns but he nods, nonetheless.

Draco bends over the cauldron, having noticed your reaction to the smell. He inhales deeply; the heady scent taking root within him.

Jasmine, citrus and orchids.

The smell of your perfume mixed with the floral smell of shampoo. It had settled around him.

He had a hunch it would smell like you. He’s had feelings for you since Fourth Year; smelling you perfume, and shampoo only confirmed what he already knew deep down – that he was in love with you.

Draco takes a step back from the table; the revelation hitting him all at one – so strongly it knocks the breath from him.

“I’ve had a thought.”

“I think I’m having the same one.” You say, standing up.

Draco’s eyes blaze as he states, “I think you’re my soulmate.”

You nod, “I think you’re my soulmate too.”

Draco holds his hand out to you; less than a centimetre away from you, but he doesn’t take the final step. Despite it all; despite the certainty, he cannot ignore the spike of fear running through his body. He never expected he would find his soulmate; he never expected that it would be you of all people. Draco had been crushing on you since Fourth Year; since you had sat next to him at dinner and asked his thoughts on the Triwizard Tournament – he was taken aback by your presence that he answered honestly, and the conversation that followed had been one of the most honest he had ever had.

You watch the myriad of emotions that flit over his face; trying to define each and every one of them. The certainty that you feel with the idea of Draco being your soulmate settles deep within your bones; combining with your genetic makeup. It all makes sense now; your feelings for Draco finally made sense.

You take the final step; taking his hand in yours, tangling your fingers together. His skin is smooth and soft against yours. His hand fits perfectly in yours, as if made for you.

And then time stops.

Time stops.

The steam from the Amortentia potion freezes; the ticking of the clock no longer sounds; the sound of younger students running up and down the corridor outside the classroom fall silent.

The only thing moving in this moment is you and Draco.

He draws you into his arms. One arm wrapping around your waist; the other caressing your cheek. His thumb rubs over your cheekbone as he smiles softly down at you. For a moment, neither of you speak for the small fear of breaking the instant in which you find yourselves. This time is so precious; it’s where everything is defined. You beam up at him, savouring the feel of his arm around your waist though you know that you have a lifetime to memorise the way he touches you.

“I never thought I would find you.” Draco whispers, in awe of the situation.

“You have. So what do you plan to do?”

“This.”

It’s all he says as he dips his head and kisses you.

*******************

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @dreamer821 @the-hufflefluffwriter @summer-writes @harrypotter289 @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @kalimagik @figlia--della--luna

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obx-beach @obxmxybxnk @sycathorn-slush

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lowspoonsfood · 3 years

Text

Dirt Cheap Rib Sticking Slow Cooker Slop (also for Instant Pot)

Necessary Ingredients:

Black eyed peas or other dry lentil (as much or as little as you like; usually sold in 1.5lb or 500g packages and i find one to be plenty. Never fill a slow cooker or instant pot more than 2/3 of the way with lentils).

Broth, any variety (Enough to fill pot to just above other ingredients). In a pinch water is also fine.

Literally any seasoning. Even a ramen packet will do.

Recommended spices (omit as needed to lower spoons):

Garlic or garlic powder (to taste)

Green Onion/Shallots

Salt (omit for low-sodium option but compensate with other spices)

Black pepper

Cayenne pepper

Cumin

Crystal hot sauce (doesn't have to be Crystal I just like it)

Bullion cube

Optional Ingredients:

1 can of chickpeas

Baby Carrots, OR:

Onion, Bell Pepper, & Celery, diced ("Cajun Trinity")

The cheapest cut of meat you can find. Chicken wings. Ground beef. Microwaveable bacon. Sausage. Whatever you have hanging around.

INSTRUCTIONS:

If using meat, rinse it and put it at the bottom of the pot.

Put beans in the pot. Some lentils can triple in size so make sure you have at least the upper 1/3 of the pot clear after all ingredients are added.

If using vegetables, add them on top. Baby carrots require no prep and can just go in as-is. Cheap bags of frozen vegetables will also work.

Add spices. When in doubt, add about a teaspoon of everything except for "hot" spices such as cayenne or hot sauce-- use about half a teaspoon of these, even if you love spicy food. Add other liquid seasonings by the tablespoon.

Add broth to the pot until the liquid juuust barely covers all the ingredients. If you find you're short of broth, just add water.

Instant pot: Follow the instructions for Lentils. Cook for about 45 minutes, then release steam, unplug, and open lid. Plug back in and allow to sit with lid off for 10 to 15 minutes or until contents are thick.

Slow Cooker or stove top: Cook on Low heat for 6 to 8 hours. Stove top should stir occasionally.

tl;dr: yeet meat, beans, veggies, seasoning, and broth into a pot and heat 'til the beans are cooked thoroughly. Meat and veggies optional. NOTES: It is VERY difficult to overcook this dish, so leave it on the lowest heat possible after it's done until it's time to eat. Makes a TON of servings that keep in the fridge for a VERY long time, reheats well, and is very filling. Tons of flavorings can be used as alternatives for spices: ketchup, steak sauce, hoisin sauce, the little packet you put in ramen-- really anything goes, here. The heart of the dish is the black-eyed peas and just about anything can go around them. If you use meat, it doesn't even have to be an edible cut. This should also consume the entirety of any perishables purchased for this recipe, so there's no rush to figure out what to do with whatever remains. Dry lentils are shelf stable, so keep a good stock of them on-hand and make this recipe whenever you have perishables in the fridge that you never got around to using.

#gluten free #vegetarian #lactose free #low fodmap #crock pot recipes #cooking tips #recipe #submission

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willowbleedsonpaper · 3 years

Text

Winter In The Shade III

Part III

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 2383

Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius' fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter's. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: Mentions of food. / Eating. /

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Regulus' eyes opened immediately at the mention of his brother. With furrowed eyebrows he stared at you deeply “What?” he asked cautiously, his mind still registering your question.

You moved to sit closer to him, knees touching as you looked for his eyes “Sirius,” you repeated “Can you tell me about him?”

He stayed in silence for what felt like hours, his eyes hardened as you saw him put his walls up again. It didn’t come as a surprise to you that he closed himself at your question but now you wondered how sensitive the subject was for him to be looking at you the way he looked at everyone else.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked with pursed lips. He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze so hard over you that it forced you to look away from him and down to your lap.

“I- well, I know you are close to him but you barely talk about him. Actually, I think I’ve never seen you talk to him.” you explained, hoping he couldn’t read you and see that it was more than just mere curiosity.

“We’re not close.” he said sharply, his voice bitter.

“Oh… okay.” you nodded, playing with the grass underneath you “I just assumed you were.” you said with a smile, trying to get him to relax as you changed the subject “What do you want to do over the weekend?” your arm moved to nudge his side, a playful smile on your face.

“What do you want to do?” he asked back, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Your heart broke as you stared at him, his eyes void as he tried and failed to put on a smile for you, you knew you had killed his mood for the time being and you felt terrible, your own smile falling as you shrugged your shoulders “I don’t know.” you mumbled “I always choose, I thought you’d have something you want to do.”

Regulus didn’t move and you thought he might be just thinking. With your head low, you missed the way his eyes stared down at you, watching the way you thoughtlessly played with your hands as you waited for his answer. He knew you better than you would like to admit, you were never one to keep your head low. You felt bad for asking him about Sirius, retreating to the world inside your head so you would do no more harm. And he felt the knot in his stomach tightening for how he reacted, how his reaction affected you; but still he couldn’t help it, it was second nature for him to put his guard up at the mention of his brother. He wanted to tell you to never ask about Sirius again, that no matter what you heard he wouldn’t talk about it but he could see you were already overthinking everything you had done since the question crossed your mind. He said nothing and just appreciated the fact that you stayed with him and that, that’s what made you different from everyone else. Even if you didn’t understand why he reacted the way he did, even if you didn’t know what had happened between him and Sirius, you didn’t push it and you stayed when you could have easily walked away like he had seen you do with others when they stepped out of line. You stayed with him, and even if he wanted nothing more than to get up and leave, he stayed there with you. You stayed for each other.

“I’m fine with anything you want to do.” he told you after minutes of silence.

Your head rose up in surprise “Really?” you asked with a small smile.

He nodded, his face relaxed “Really.” he said, turning on his side as he started to get on his feet, your eyes following his movements closely “I have to go and get something from my dorm. Wait for me here?” he said.

You nodded and sat back as he started to walk away, your eyes suddenly falling on the small group of people a few meters from you, all of them laughing and running around, nothing out of the ordinary but you stared too long. They must have felt your gaze on them, the one wearing glasses and a permanent smirk turning to the one at his side, patting him in the shoulder as he motioned his head towards you.

You jumped to your feet, running the small distance to the castle “Reg!” you yelled, grabbing the ends of your scarf as it flew over your face. He stopped at the sudden sound on your voice, looking over your shoulder in confusion before his eyes settled on you.

“What 's wrong?” he asked, his hand reaching for yours in an instant as he linked his arm with yours.

You smiled, shaking your head “Can I go with you?” you asked out of breath “I don’t really fancy staying there all alone.” you told him.

He looked back to where you sat not a minute ago, looking for any sign you were lying but saw none. “Of course.” he said, his eyes lingering in the distance before he shook his head, resuming his walk with you at his side.

You looked back once more, seeing the place completely empty but you knew it meant nothing. You had seen Sirius and he had seen you leave.

*******

The weekend was spent doing more things that you or Regulus could actually remember. Even if in all honesty, you two remembered every single detail.

You had forced the both of you to get up early to get breakfast before anyone else, or more like forced Regulus to get you up early because between the two of you, he was both the early bird and the night owl, while you were the sleepy bear.

It was one of your missions to be ghosts during the weekend, to never be seen by anyone else as if you didn’t exist in the perspective of others; and if they did manage to get a glimpse of the two of you, that was all it was, a glimpse of something they would never see again until monday morning. Two entire days for you and him to just exist and bond over simple things and activities, it was the only days he would stay out late with you and you took full advantage of that.

“What are we doing in the kitchens?” he asked as you pulled his hand to keep him walking.

“What do you think?” you asked with a laugh “What do you use kitchens for?” you let go of his hand, starting to rummage over all the things there as he just stared at you.

“Cooking…” he said wearily, his eyes snapping at you as you yelled in triumph.

“And baking!” you beamed, holding the cookie trays over your head “Well, c’mon.” you called him, motioning for him to get close. With a chuckle you turned to face him, ravishing in the completely confused look he had on his face, of course he had never done any baking. “I am sharing my Grandmother's red velvet cookies recipe with you.” you said, taking his hands and rolling his sleeves up for him “It is my pleasure to tell you that you are the only one I would share this recipe with.”

He smiled as you worked on his sleeves, watching you carefully as he gave you his other arm “I’m honored.” he said, meeting your eyes full with excitement.

You clapped your hands before you as you started to move around the kitchen, starting to measure the ingredients as you never ceased to talk, giving instructions and showing him how to get all the things ready. A task that should have been done in an hour took you both at least two; in between laughs, chatting and the small war that got you both covered in flour you emerged from the kitchens once the moon was already shining up in the night sky.

You had baked enough cookies for the week ahead of you, carrying them with you to every class and place you had to go. It was easy to sneak a small piece of it to Regulus or to eat one yourself since you spent the entirety of your time together and shared most of your classes, with the exception of your optative classes. Whilst you and Regulus took a great curiosity for Ancient Runes, you had also opted for studying divination as it woke something in you, how you could interpret different signs to know the future. It was so fun and interesting you couldn’t let the opportunity pass. Regulus thought it was ridiculous to think you could know the future by reading tea leaves but you paid him no mind.

On the days you had Divination, you found yourself wandering the halls alone, a weird sight for anyone who had been paying attention to yours and Regulus’ friendship flourishing. You walked the long hallways to get to the North Tower, a piece of cookie in hand as you took small bites of it, looking everywhere but where you were headed.

“Woah!” exclaimed a voice next to you as they barely stopped on their tracks “We really need to stop meeting like this.” Sirius smiled, looking at you with a smirk.

The corner of your mouth lifted for a fraction of second, your eyes already looking for an escape to not avail “Hello.” you mustered, starting to walk around him only for him to match your steps.

“That 's it?” he asked, baffled “Hello?” he repeated, trying and failing to imitate your voice.

Taking a hesitant look at him you tried to keep looking forward. “That’s still the right term, isn’t?” you said, never stopping to acknowledge him again, not giving him the chance to speak up.

You walked awkwardly next to him until you reached the beginning of the stairs to the Divination classroom, the space narrowed so only one person could fit comfortably, or two people walking very close together. You closed your eyes shut, you were not ready for this.

“Can I help you with something?” you snapped, turning to stare at him as you climbed on the first step of the stairs, looking directly into his eyes. You, of course, took him off guard with the sudden burst of emotion, his mouth opening with no chance to speak “You keep showing up everywhere I am, you walked next to me all the way here when you certainly don’t take divination so tell me, is there something I can help you with?” you spat the words, not even stopping to think them before they were out of your mouth. “Is it- is it because I didn’t tell you my name? Because if you really wanted to know, it’s Y/N. You’re Sirius. Nice to meet you. Goodbye.” you said, turning on your heel and walking up the stairs.

Sirius stopped momentarily to appreciate the beauty of your name, hearing the melody repeating inside his head and how much it fitted you. Y/N, he thought, shaking his head and snapping out of the trance you put him in before he jumped the steps to catch up with you “Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” he said loudly, trying to keep up with your speed “I just want to know you, okay?”

You scrunch your nose in confusion but never stopped, letting his words flow as he said them.

“I think you’re really interesting and, in all honesty, really beautiful.” he said, making you hide your face from him as a flush appeared over your cheeks, but his next words erased all trace of the previous feelings he provoked on you, replacing the fluttery feeling in your stomach with a knot “I’ve seen you with Regulus and heard a lot about..”

“So that’s what this is all about?” you cut him mid sentence, clenching your hands in fists as you turned to him once more “If you want to know about Regulus you can find someone else or ask him yourself.” you said with a huff, crossing your arms as you glared at him, hating the way your heart started to beat harder inside your chest.

Sirius shook his head and climbed the few steps separating you, still leaving a considerable space in between “No, that’s no it.” he explained “You’re just… I’ve already told you, alright? I would like to get to know you.”

Saying you were confused was an understatement, the complete mess of thoughts running inside your head too loud to even form a coherent phrase. You wanted to be sure he was just using you, that he only wanted to mess with Regulus and make him mad, but the glint in his eyes told you nothing but the contrary to that exact thought. What if he was true to his word and just wanted to know you?

You were certain the hurricane of emotions was showing on your face, your eyes glued to his as he took a hesitant step towards you and, when you didn’t back away a smile appeared on his lips, walking in front of you he placed his hand over yours “Y/N.” he whispered.

He sounded just like him.

“I’m sorry.” you muttered, slowly moving your hand away from his grasp “I don’t know what happened between you and Regulus and it’s really not my place to ask, I would really hate to get involved.” And pick sides you thought, taking a step back.

You wanted to believe he meant well and just wanted to get close to you but you couldn’t risk getting Regulus hurt. If the sole mention of his brother’s name put his walls up what would happen if he found out his best friend, the only person he let his guard down with and the only one he trusted, was friends with the brother that hurt him so much. You couldn't risk hurting Regulus, not you.

“He’s the only one I have.” you said slowly with a small yet sad smile on your face, and with that you turned.

And again, Sirius let you walk away.