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goodgirlofglory · 3 years

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A hairy situation / One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 4,3k

Warnings: 18+, Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, oral (m/f recieving), slight fingering, hair pulling, pubic hair pulling, pubic hair!kink, dirty talk, fluffy dirty talk, slight soft dom!Steve, some standard fluff in there too.

Summary: You usually keep yourself neatly shaved for when Steve returns from missions, but this time things change and you find yourself with a full blown bush by the time Steve’s about to remove your pants. His reaction is quite different from what you expected (*wink* *wink*) …

Author’s note: This has not been proofread by anyone but me, so all the mistakes are mine<3 Hope you enjoy<3

The warm water ran down your back as your hand absentmindedly caressed your naked stomach. Nowadays the shower was the only relief for your touch-starved body.

Usually, Steve would be gone for about three months when on missions. This one was bordering on four, and he had warned you the prognosis was five. You were already wallowing in self pity, your body practically humming with built up arousal at being left untouched for so long.

Only a month left, only a month left, only a month left...

Your hand found your mound and started playing in the curls that were adorning it. An impressive mop of dark curls had grown there during your months of loneliness, and you had now grown quite used to feeling the soft hair between your fingers.

Usually you kept yourself bald except for a neatly trimmed triangle or heart above your slit - one time you even managed to make a circle with a star in the middle, which had made Steve both cringe, blush and laugh his eyes out at the same time.

He’d fucked you all the same though, quite fervently too if memory served you right.

Now, however, you had let the razor lie for a while and suddenly you were sporting the bush of a 60’s hippie.

You quite enjoyed it, and would actually miss it somewhat when you’d shave it upon Steve’s return.

Steve always gave you a heads up when he returned from missions. Several actually. Usually he would call once he had landed at the compound, so he could hear your voice and how happy you became once you realized he was back.

Then he would text once he had debriefed, showered and was leaving the compound, and then again once he had reached your apartment complex, mostly because he couldn’t help his excitement.

That last text was usually just a heart emoji (you had laboured hard to teach him texting - especially emoji use - so those hearts were particularly satisfying).

So you always had plenty of time to clean the apartment up a bit, shower (and shave), dress in something sexy and maybe even light some candles and put on some sweet 30’s jazz (a special treat for Steve).

That’s why you weren’t stressing about letting your hair grow out down there, it would simply take a bit longer to shave once you got the notice from Steve.

Which would be a month away at least.

God

You stepped out of the shower, got dressed and left for work, ready to throw yourself into your tasks at the gallery in order to distract yourself from your misery. Maybe you’d even get some Ben and Jerry’s on your way home.

You struggled to push through the front door with your work bag on one arm and a bag of groceries (Ben and Jerry’s included) on the other. That’s when you noticed the music softly playing from the living room. Weird, you didn’t remember leaving the radio on…

When you’d closed the door and shook off your shoes, you noticed the distinct smell of your honey and rose body soap lingering in the air. There was no way that had kept since your shower this morning. Something was amiss...

You barely begun to feel anxious when a large pair of hands clasped around your face and a pair of familiar lips crushed onto yours. Your yelp was muffled by the passionate kiss, and a second later your mind caught up and you realized.

It was Steve! There, in your apartment, his tongue sliding passed your lips and into your mouth as it opened willingly for him.

The bag of groceries fell to the ground along with your bag and you flung your arms around his neck as he whipped his hands around the back of your thighs and hoisted them up to wrap around his slim hips in one, smooth movement.

You broke away from the kiss with a gleeful squeal.

“You’re here!?” You were dumbfounded in your joy.

“I couldn’t stay away from my best girl any longer,” he responded with a smile, pushing you up against the front door.

“But I didn’t get a call! Or a text. Or even a heart emoji,” you said, more incredulous than anything else. It was a wonderful surprise that caught you completely off guard, blizz surging through your body.

“Yeah, I wanted to surprise you, actually see you when you got the news for once. I had the team do the debriefing on the jet so they could drop me off here directly,” he said as he leaned in for another kiss. “Totally worth it to see your reaction,” he said against your lips, and laughed when you slapped his chest.

“You scared me, you asshole,” you exclaimed, but you were laughing with him.

“Sorry,” he answered as he kissed his way down your jaw and onto your neck, warm hands squeezing your thighs. He didn’t sound sorry at all, teeth nipping at your pulse point, drawing a tiny gasp from your lips.

Touch-starved indeed.

Your mind started to fog over with a wave of arousal as you started to feel down his back. The muscles rippled under your fingertips, and you raked your nails back up to his neck, eliciting a quiet groan from his throat.

That’s when you noticed he was completely nude except for a rather tiny towel around his hips.

“You showered here? And you used my body soap?” you asked.

“I had to shower, I don’t think you could have handled the smell. Three months undercover in the Croatian black market, the last three weeks on a pig farm in the countryside. Plus, your body soap reminds me of you. Got me hard just smelling it,” he said, letting you down on your feet again as he started ripping off your layers of clothing, breath coming out in pants.

Hard indeed, you thought, as you looked down to see the tiny towel struggle against the tent at the front.

Instinctively, you reached for it, throwing the towel off as he threw your jacket and scarf aside, grasping his hard cock in one hand, feeling how hot and heavy it was in your palm.

He threw his head back and let out a shuddering breath, hands loosely wrapped around your neck as you gave an experimental tug. He seemed pretty much as touch-starved as you.

There was a reason you reacted so quickly once you got the heads up. Aggression, stress, adrenaline plus his enhanced physique usually meant a lot of pent up energy needed release once Steve got back from missions. You had no qualm at all being the vessel through which that energy was released. Steve would put you through the mattress two to three times during the first night back, and you absolutely fucking loved it. And you loved him, and were pretty sure he loved you back.

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips as he started pushing you towards the bedroom, your hand still wrapped around his cock, pulling at it slowly as leakage began to spring forth at the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight.

“I missed you, I need you. Now,” he continued, voice breathy as his eyes gazed sweetly into your own. Your breath caught in your throat at the piercing blue.

“God, Steve, you have no idea how much I’ve longed for you,” you heard yourself saying, emotion washing over you almost making you whimper. You still couldn’t believe he was here, a whole month before time!

The back of your knees hit the bed and he gently pushed you down onto your back, hands going straight for your pants when you froze.

Shit. A month before time. Fuck

Without the heads up you hadn’t had the opportunity to shave. You hadn’t even gotten your bag off your shoulder before he had practically thrown himself over you in the hallway.

You had no idea what this would mean to Steve. Would it be a turn off? Did women sport bushes in the 40’s? Had he even seen a woman’s pussy before he went in the ice?

The thought of this moment being ruined sparked a panic in your mind and your hands shot up to grab Steve’s wrists as he was undoing the button of your pants.

His hands stilled and he gave you a confused look.

“What is it?” he asked, concerned.

You gave a strained smile and bit your lips as you stared into his curious eyes. Why were you suddenly being so unsure of yourself? This was Steve, you could say anything to Steve!

“You know, since you were a month early, and didn’t text before you came over...I didn’t have time to...freshen up...down there,” you said slowly and gestured awkwardly to your crotch.

He huffed a laughter.

“Honey, you know I love the way you taste. Just let me get these off you,” he said confidently as he undid your sipper swiftly and started to tug at the waistband of your trousers.

“It’s not that,” you said, again stopping his hands mid-movement.

You took a deep breath.

“I haven’t shaved...in four months...so it’s kinda...bushy” you said, averting your eyes in embarrassment.

This was truly uncharted territory, seeing how you couldn’t even keep eye contact. This was the man who’d had his whole tongue up your ass.

“Oh” he said, surprised, though there was a hint of curiosity in it.

His eyes grew wider as he stared at your pant clad crotch, hands still on the waist band. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as he focused intently on the space between your legs. You couldn’t read his expression, he didn’t seem to know exactly what he was feeling himself.

Then he slowly pulled your pants down your legs and threw them on the floor. He sat down on his knees in front of the bed and pulled at your thighs with ease until your butt was right at the edge. He never let his eyes away from your crotch, you watching him intently.

When his eyes darted up to meet yours, they were dilated to the point where only a small rim of blue shone around the black pools of...lust?

“You’ve grown a whole forest for me, have you?” he asked, voice suddenly gone dark and ruff, and he looked back down between your legs.

You tiny lace thong concealed your slit and puckered back entrance, but not much more. On all sides of the light purple fabric was wild, dark hair, some even springing forth through the lace. You thought it was actually quite a pretty sight, but was still holding out on the verdict from Steve.

He let a finger trail the hair that was growing on one side of your panties, and a hum rang through his chest. That seemed like something you could recognize. It was a hum of approval. Of appreciation almost.

He took one of the curls sticking out of the lace between his fingers and pulled lightly. The tugging sensation provoked a gasp from you, and the responding grunt from Steve’s lips caught both of you off guard. Your eyes met briefly in surprise, before you both returned your focus to your hairy core.

You were starting to understand his reaction now, intrigued. Reaching down, you tugged your panties to the side, letting him see your slit and the puckered lips between the two mops of hair.

His breath came out harder as he spread his fingers through the hair before pulling at the lips, spreading them open to reveal your weeping hole and red clit, swollen and needy for attention. Without another word, Steve leaned in and gave a swipe of his tongue up the entire length of your slit, and you moaned at the pleasure that bolted through your core.

He started licking and sucking at your leaking sex like a man starved (which he to some degree was), hands gripping your hips and holding you down as you sqiurmed at the stimulation.

As he worked you, you threw your shirt off along with your bra, and his hands automatically reached up to your breasts as you lay back down on your back. Deftly, he rolled and pinched your hardening nipples with coarse fingertips, all while lapping at your clit with quick and wet expertise. He moaned into your core, sending a shiver up your spine and you started to rock your hips against his face in rhythm with his licks.

You knew you wouldn't need long tonight, and when Steve pulled his right hand down and slipped two fingers right into your cunt, he only needed to curl his fingers a couple of times before you came undone, back arching and lips open in a silent scream as you came, convulsing around his fingers. He languidly licked you through your orgasm, groaning into your wet heat as you relaxed back down on the mattress, breath ragged.

He removed his fingers from within you, and you lamented the absence. He put the fingers in his mouth, sucking greedily on the digits. He kept your eyes in a locked gaze as he moaned at the taste, and you whimpered at his unabashedness.

“You taste so good, baby,” he said between licking the residue of your orgasm of his knuckles.

America’s golden boy was such a dirty bastard in bed, and you couldn’t help your proud giggle at being the one who unleashed his inner beast.

His eyes went back to your quivering cunt and he let his fingertips gently play at your entrance. You didn’t quite understand where he was going with the gesture, but didn’t mind at all. He looked on entranced as he moved his fingers around your weeping hole, and you looked at him.

“God, what a sight,” he whispered, almost to himself. “Such pretty, wet curls”.

Your cheeks flushed and you let out another giggle. His attention drew to your face, and he laughed as well as you hid your face in the crook of your elbow. He raised himself to his feet and crawled over you on the bed.

“What?” he asked, smiling from ear to ear as you giggled again.

He was so darn cute, and still rock hard, his engorged length brushing against your inner thigh.

Instead of answering, you lifted your head up and caught his lips in a kiss. Enthusiastically, he threw himself into it, gasping when you took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked lightly. A shiver went through him, a near pornographic groan leaving his throat.

Oh he was on tonight

You couldn’t wait to taste him. To feel his throbbing cock stretch your mouth, salty on your tongue.

You gently pushed at his chest, and he let you roll him over on his back. Lord knows you would never be able to move him without his help, but you both liked the feeling of you being in charge.

He watched you intently with those breathtaking blue eyes as you slithered down his body, laying wet kisses to his strapping chest, dipping your tongue into every divot of his abs. He let out these wonderful, small gasps every so often, his hands going into fists at his sides.

You wasted no time when you reached his cock, only licking once at the small drop of clear fluid sitting at the tip before taking the purple head into your mouth, sucking lightly.

Steve let out a strangled moan and threw his head back, eyes falling closed.

"Oh my god, baby, that's it," he panted.

Spurred on by his words, you started to work your head up and down his throbbing length, pushing him further in each time. When he hit the back of your throat, you pushed through your need to gag and swallowed around him.

He groaned, a deep, vibrating sound that went straight to your core like a lightning bolt.

You felt his hands on the back of your head as he held you in place.

Yes, yes, yes, you thought through your body's surge for air.

Tears pricked at your eyes as your throat convulsed around him, and Steve called out in that stern and commanding voice above you.

"Look at me"

And you did. His heavy brow furrowed, cheeks flushed and lips red, swollen and slightly parted. He was a vision and your cunt clamped around nothing, screaming for attention.

He gripped a fistful of hair and dragged your face off his cock. Your ragged breath ripped out as oxygen finally found your lounges, long strings of saliva connecting your mouth to his red and angry cock.

You could feel him losing control of himself in the way his look darkened, his muscles twitching. You eagerly anticipated it. He gripped your jaw and slammed his mouth to yours, spit and precum mingling between you in an open and obscene kiss that was mostly tongue.

He drew you up to straddle his waist with the hand on your jaw and you eagerly obeyed his manhandling.

You splayed one hand on his chest, while the other reached between you to grab his cock and lining it to your entrance. He let his hands glide up your thighs and settle on each ass cheek as he spread them slightly.

You locked eyes with him as you felt his tip breach you, forcing your flesh to yield to his massive girth.

A groan escaped his gritted teeth.

As you tried to lower yourself though, you felt his hands holding you put, not letting you move a centimeter.

You looked down at him, and you saw him smugly cock a brow at your obvious frustration. A needy whine escaped you.

"Tell me what you need, baby," he commanded, almost encouraged.

The cocky bastard was getting off on denying you, enjoying torturing you.

You secretly loved it.

"Come on, baby, tell me. What do you need?"

You knew the questions applied to more than just the serious fucking you craved that moment, and had craved for months now.

"I need you," you whispered, staring into his intense eyes.

He moved you with ease a few inches down on his cock, relishing in your gasp as he stretched you so sweetly.

"Tell me how you feel about me," he demanded, keeping you pinned in place as you squirmed in his grip.

You whimpered in your desperation to be filled.

"I love you, Steve. I love your face, your tongue, your cock. Even your sadistic pleasure at torturing me like this," you gritted out, nails digging into his chest.

He groaned at your words and pushed you down on his cock in one swift motion until he bottomed out inside you.

You struggled to take in air as he kept you put with his hands on your hips, the new torture not being able to get away.

He looked on, eyes hooded as you gripped him like a vice.

"That's it, baby. You need this, you need me. You love me. You’re so good at taking me, swallowing me so greedily," he kept repeating as he rocked you slowly on him, waiting for you to adjust.

"Yes,” you repeated breathily as you started moving your hips in tandem with his hands. Soon he removed them, letting them hover over your waist as you moved on your own, riding him harder and harder.

You started riding in earnest, slamming yourself down on his cock as the squelching sounds of your arousal filled the room.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. Your chest swelled with pride.

His eyebrows started to raise in a telling way that made you think you were actually gonna make him come, and you moaned at the prospect.

That's when he caught you by surprise, sitting up and flipping you over so you were under him, remaining inside you the entire time.

He wasted no time before he was pounding into you, the bed protesting the vigorous movement underneath, you encouraging it above.

He threw one of your legs on his shoulder, sitting up on his knees to get that angle that always made you see stars.

And boy, was he right on cue. His cock punched right onto your sweet spot and you arched your back, cunt involuntarily squeezing him.

"G-god," you choked out, hands clasping at his thighs, feeling how his taunt, bulging muscles moved under your touch as he fucked into your yielding body, bringing you closer to the edge with every thrust.

You looked up at his face, and saw how his hand reached around your thigh to ghost above your lower abdomen, seemingly contemplating.

You were right on the edge, vision blurred, sweat on your forehead as you looked on.

That's when he ran his fingers through the hair on the top of your mound and closed his fist around it. He took in a sharp, shuddering gasp and his movement faltered for a moment. His brows raised again.

His hand tugged harshly at your pubic hair and to your utter surprise, your orgasm exploded within you, your mouth opening in a small whine as your body went rigid.

Steve groaned deep in his chest before his eyes rolled back. His hand tugged harder on the fistful of hair, sparking your prolonged orgasm with a painful sting.

He gave a few, deep thrusts as his own release coursed through him and into you, filling you up with four months worth of pent up juice.

Through your haze you squeezed his thighs lovingly, nails digging into the skin. He was so goddamn, fucking beautiful.

Steve released his grip on your hair and let his softening cock slip out of you. He collapsed beside you on the bed, one massive, hot hand on your thigh to keep you connected.

You had early on learned that The Captain's love language was touch, and he would usually keep himself physically connected with you at all times during the first 24 hours back from missions - to your varying delight.

You lay there, listening to your pants as you came down from your high. It was all so strange, and all so good.

You turned your head towards him, taking in his glorious side profile with his straight and imposing nose, strong chin and ruff stubble, piercing blue eyes concealed by pale eyelids and a flutter of thick, long eyelashes.

“I gather the bush wasn’t a problem?” you teased.

The way he had reacted to it had been anything other than what you expected. You thought maybe you’d get some mild discomfort, some awkwardness and then just ignoring it all together.

Not ...that.

You mound still stung a bit from his harsh tugging at the end there.

He smiled and turned to meet your eyes, cheeks slightly pink.

“You gathered right,” he said, and averted his eyes in the cutest way possible. You rolled onto his chest and made him look you in the eyes. His hands found your back and started stroking a couple of fingers lightly up and down your spine.

“Where did that come from? If I’d known you’d react like that, I would have grown it out a long time ago!”

He laughed.

“If I’d known, I would have let you know a long time ago. Everyone I’ve been with before you sported the same...baldness as you normally do. And it’s not like I saw a lot og nude dames back in the day, ya know.”

Ah, that answered that question

As your thoughts lingered on his response, he saw his opportunity to grab the back of your head and bring you in for a sweet kiss. Starving and deprived, the kiss soon turned heated, and his tongue effortlessly slid into your mouth as you moaned at the intrusion.

You broke the kiss before it became too consuming, earning a disappointed pout from Steve as you quickly threw yourself from the bed. You pointed a finger at him.

“No, no, no, I am going to shower before you go any further, mister!”

He raised his hands in defense at your tone, but a smirk was playing at his lips.

“Plus, I think I need to shave a bit, don’t you?” you asked innocently.

Before you knew it, he had rushed forward, grabbed your wrist and waist and hoisted you back on the bed, effectively pinning you under his weight, one wrist in each hand at the side of your face. You felt your body humming with energy at his power demonstration.

“You’re not going to shave a goddamn thing,” he said matter-of-factly, though there was a playful tone to his voice.

You giggled at his words, which turned into a gasp as he leaned down and nipped at your neck.

“Do I need to go down there and remind you who you belong to? Eat your wet and hairy pussy like cream, taste my stain as it leaks out of you?” he rasped in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and right to your core. The dirtier side of your Captain still took you by surprise sometimes.

Then your eyes flashed open as realization hit you. Cream.

“Oh my god, Ben and Jerry!” you shouted as you pushed at your restraint, and Steve, ever the intuitive, let you go immediately when he understood the moodshift.

You darted out of the bed and sprinted from the room.

“That better not be someone you're expecting,” Steve called from the room, and you couldn’t control your laugh as you bounded for the discarded grocery bag in the hallway.

As if...

Author’s note: This was my first one-shot, and a hell of a lot of fun. I don’t really remember where the whole pubic hair!kink-idea came from, but once it entered my mind, I couldn’t get it out until it hit the paper. I just imagine Steve being a real lover of natural bodies and natural body hair, ya feel<3 Thanks for reading, love you<3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x Y/N #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #captain america x reader #captain america x Y/N

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healingmichiko · 3 years

Text

*Whines at Muse* Must you be like this?

Muse: *points at Bearded!Ichigo*

*sighs* @north-peach @wolfsrainrules for your reading pleasure:

Obi-wan glanced over at where his newest student was and mentally relaxed as Leia dragged her unknown brother onto the Falcon. Chewbacca would take care of them, at least. He could trust the Wookie for that.

He returned his eyes to the misshapen monstrosity which had been his student. The beast shaped by the Emperor Sith reared back and Obi Wan lifted his blade, closing his eyes. So many regrets flashed through him as the blood red saber approached, and Obi-Wan tried to shove them aside, preparing to be one with the force-

When he felt Something Greater focus on him, and a sensation suspiciously similar to ‘You. You’ll do,’ focused on him the instant before Vader’s lightsaber cut him down.

In one world, an empty robe and a deactivated lightsaber hit the floor as Obi-Wan became one with the Force. But this one is not that. Instead, he opened his eyes at a woman’s terrified scream, and instincts long cultivated in him had him rushing forward, his lightsaber blazing in the evening dusk.

The beast attacking the human woman and child howled as the saber cut off its claw.

“What are YOU? You look human, but like none I’ve ever smelled before,” the beast demanded with a snarl. “Not shinigami, Quincy, or Hollow!”

“I am a Jedi, and I will not allow you to harm these people,” Obi-Wan said, narrowing his eyes as the beast backed away. Beings like this didn’t back away meekly. Not quite Sith level of taint, but-

He flung his hand up at the expected blow, but instead of shoving the creature back, a surge in the Force sent it flying through the air, disappearing into the distance. Obi-Wan blinked, staring at his hand for a moment, before he turned to the creature’s victims. “Hello, there,” he said. “Let me help you up.”

“Thank you,” the woman said, getting to her feet carefully. She helped her child up, who clung to her fiercely. “What did you do to the Hollow?”

“The beast attacking you? I’m not sure…. The Force never acted that way for me before,” Obi-Wan admitted. Even at his most untrained point as a youngly, the Force never shoved someone completely out of sight… “And, you called it a Hollow?”

“You don’t know what a Hollow is?” the woman asked. “Where are you from?”

Obi-Wan glanced around, then said, honestly, “Somewhere very far away. I wasn’t here a few minutes ago, then something caused a surge in the force, and here I am.”

“Well, thank you, Mr…?

Obi-Wan Kenobi. A Jedi Master of the Galactic Republic,” he introduced himself, then mentally blinked at why that spilled out. He hadn’t introduced himself since- He glanced down at the hands he had been ignoring, and mentally frowned.

“I think you’re a long way from home, Master Jedi,” the woman said. “We’ve never heard of a Galactic Republic here. We’ve barely reached the moon.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

“But you can stay with us. I’m Kurosaki Masaki and this is my son, Kurosak ichigo.”

“Thank you for the offer, miss. I greatly appreci-“ Instinct had him interposing himself, and his ignited Lightsaber between the woman and child, and some newcomers who just appeared.

“Masaki/Kurosaki-san!” The “humans” called.

“I’m okay, thanks to Master Obi-Wan,” she said. “They’re friendly,” she told Obi-Wan, who put away his weapon.

And stepped aside as the dark haired male rushed past him to hug Miss Kurosaki and the little one. Finally, they partner, and Miss Kurosaki turned to Obi Wan. “Husband, this is Obi-wan Kenobi…. He chased off Grandfisher.”

“And saved your lives,” the man said, then turned to Obi-Wan, face serious. “I’m Kurosaki Isshin…. And I owe you.”

“I was merely-“

“Master Obi-wan, I’m serious. I don’t know what losing Masaki would have done to our family. If there’s anything I can do for you, it’s yours.” Something inside him well up, stilled the instinctive urge to turn down the offer.

“I offered to let him stay with us, dear,” Masaki said. “He can stay in the guest room.”

“Of course! Now, let’s get out of the rain!”

Obi-Wan followed the group to a nearby building with odd script on it, but followed inside at the Kurosaki’s insistance.

A hot shower later, and Obi-Wan settled into a meditation. There was so much to go over. Someway, somehow, he had apparent gone back in time, and to a completely unknown planet. Judging by his physical age, this was early in the Clone Wars, but he had no means to contact the 212th…. And could he really trust them? He knew the truth, but knowing the men he had led, were stuck with ticking time-

Obi-wan shoved it all away and sank into the Force. It was time to release it all to the Force. Once he was better centered in the Force-

Yet again, he didn’t get what he was expecting. As soon as he started letting go, light bloomed, almost painfully bright, and Obi-Wan raised his hand. When the light died down to more normal levels, he lowered his hand to see instead of the guest room in the Kurosaki home, he was in a large white room, set with a simple, lowset table. Which he was already seated at.

“Please, let me know if this style isn’t comfortable to you, but this was the style when I was alive,” a voice said, and he looked over at a human-appearing being sitting across the table from him.

“Hello, there,” Obi Wan said, and smiled at the bemused look sent at him.

“Helo, there, back at you,” the being said. “We do not have a lot of time, so pardon my abruptness, but time is of the essence.”

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geminidentitycrisis · 3 years

Text

The Scent of Leather and Hairspray

Present Mic/Hizashi Yamada x F!reader ONESHOT

(WARNINGS! - swearing)

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Sooooooo, I have a new favorite Pro, I guess haha

I hope you enjoy, and if you're underage, pretend you're older because I get it, I'd be Hot For Teacher too, but he's not a pedo sorry......

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You sighed as, upon exiting the store where you just purchased a frozen drink, the men you passed to enter that store started catcalling you. Just what you needed at the end of a rough day...

"Hey Honey, you'd be cuter if you smiled...!"

"Don't listen to that shit, babygirl, you're sexy as hell, c'mere and hang out a while...?"

Ignoring them the best you could, you kept walking, but they didn't take that very well. "You think you're too good for us, that it, stuck up bitch? Where you think you're goin'?"

You could hear their footsteps approaching behind you and turned to face them after sipping from your drink.

"Guys, please, I've had a hell of a day today and my quirk would probably scar you both for life and what do you say we just don't do this, huh?"

They exchanged glances before fixing you with threatening glares. "You think you're tough, babygirl? We'll see how tough you are when we get through teaching you some respect..." the first one said.

"HEY!"

A voice called from behind you and suddenly an arm was draped gently around your neck. You froze, being caught off guard tended to prompt a panic response when you were so tired.

You smelled leather and an overwhelming scent of hairspray.

"What's the trouble, my homies? Pretty sure ya heard the lady, she ain't jammin' to the vibe ya layin' down, ya dig? Beat it."

Heart skipping a beat or two, your eyes grew wide and a blush flooded your cheeks. "That voice...?!"

You whipped your head up to see the one and only Present Mic.

"Ah! I knew it! I knew I recognized your voice, I catch your radio show every day! You're the Sound Hero, Present Mic!" he flashed a grin down at you, winking.

"Oooh, you've got good ears, Listener! Thanks for Hypin' me up like that! Always great ta meet a FAAAN!" he responded in his commentator voice.

One of your would be tormentors interrupted angrily. "Hey, peacock head, why don't you mind your business?"

"PEACOCK...?! You boys best get ta steppin', aight?! Don't make me beat you up in fronta this pretty girl!" he replied in annoyance after his attention was so aggressively stolen from you.

The blush came back in full force and you couldn't contain a dreamy sigh as your lashes fluttered, eyes lidding contentedly now that you felt safe again.

*he said I was pretty~!* you thought.

"You believe this banana hair lookin' motherfucker? You're about to get your ass whooped, fruity!" the other threatened.

"Hey bro, watch your language! There's a lady here!" with the arm around your shoulders, Mic carefully raised it and guided you behind himself as the two started walking towards you both.

"Enough..."

Another voice came suddenly from the other side of the parking lot and everyone, with the exception of the blonde who was guarding you, turned to see Eraserhead.

Suddenly these jerks weren't so confident.

"Get lost, both of you, and go straight home or I'll bring the two of you in right now for loitering and harassment." he said calmly but with deep authority.

Mic crossed his arms, glaring at the duo as they ran off after a mere moment of hesitation, his cheeks puffed out slightly. "What a couple creepozoids! You okay, Pussy Cat...?" he quickly spun around to check you out, striking a dramatic pose while pointing at you, the trademark grin already back in place.

You smiled up at him with admiration sparkling in your eyes, clasping the cup you held in both hands and tight to your chest, stepping closer to him.

"Yes, thanks to you! You're my Hero~!"

Mic felt his own chest swell with pride a bit, the grin on his face getting bigger as he relaxed his stance and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

Usually by now the damsel has already flung herself on Aizawa, but not only were you praising him, you recognized him from just his voice and he was impressed at that.

"I can't believe I was just rescued by my favorite Pro, I am your #1 fan! Please, are you patrolling the city tonight? Please let me buy you a coffee or tea or something?? Just as a thank you...?"

Hizashi laughed rather loudly, one hand emerging from his pocket to be placed over his chest.

"HAHA! Aaaww, how can I say NO when you ask so sweetly?! Coffee sounds like a rockin' idea right about now!"

"Ugh, we don't have time for this, Mic..." Eraserhead complained tiredly.

Eyes rolling in exasperation, the blonde groaned twice as loud. "ugGHHH!! Don't be such a buzzkill, yo! I'll get you one, too, just chill!" with that, he trailed after you back into the store.

You watched as he doctored up the coffee you poured for him, blushing again when he threw a hint of a smirk your way, using the tip of his finger to lift the gold tinted shades he wore and showing you his emerald green eyes. "Don't worry, I'll pay for my boring friend..."

Smiling, you bounced on your heels. "Damn right you will, I'm not HIS fangirl, after all..."

This promoted a slight blush to his face, but he maintained that knockout grin. "Ha! Well, good thing his best friend is here at least, lucky for him I tagged along tonight, huh??"

"Lucky for both of us..." came your soft reply from over your shoulder as you turned to walk away, your hips swaying temptingly had definitely not escaped his notice.

He followed you to the checkout counter and placed some money beside yours, his ungloved fingertips brushing against your own when he does. Leaning down closer to you, he cocked his head, pushing his shades down his nose this time and raising a brow.

"Does my #1 fan have a name...?"

Your smile bloomed again, blushing up at him. "It's _______...but I might prefer you calling me Pussy Cat...~"

Saying that last bit, you applied a sensual undertone which he picked up on instantly, making his blush spread over his face and grow darker as he chuckled in amusement.

When you guys walked out the door, you noticed Eraserhead seemed really annoyed but tried to ignore him, looking up at the Voice Hero hopefully.

"Listen, I know you're both busy, but if you have just one more second to spare, I can't tell you how much it would mean to me if I could get your autograph..."

Looking away awkwardly, he made a pained expression. "Aw, man, I dunno, we are kinda in a hurry here and stuff..."

You felt your heart sinking when he startled you with another loud laugh. "Hahaha, gotcha! JK! Of course I will, I ain't gonna leave ya hangin' like that, no way, that ain't my STYYYYYYYYLLLE!"

Giddy with excitement, you let out a tiny squeal, quickly fishing out a small notebook and pen from your purse as he set the cups down. When you handed it to him, his fingers brushed yours again, making you bite tenderly at your bottom lip.

They were so warm and soft...

He had started to whistle a cheerful little tune as he spun the pen between his fingers before starting to write in your book, it took longer than you expected, clearly longer than Eraser expected, too.

"Say goodbye to the girl, Mic, it's time to keep moving!" he didn't yell, exactly, too lazy, but he had raised his voice since last.

"YEAH, YEAH, I HEARD YA!!! Gimme a sec, ALRIGHT?!" the volume of the blonde's reply actually made your eardrums flinch and quiver this time, but you smiled anyway as he defended you again.

"There ya go! And hey, just to spite my buddy over there, I wouldn't mind walkin' ya home ta make sure ya get there safe."

The blush came right back, clutching the book to your heart, you gave a weak smile. "No, no, it's okay, really...I took up too much of your time already, and I only live around the corner from here..."

Eyes closing momentarily while you gathered yourself, you took a deep breath before confessing. "...I cannot express how grateful I am for you...not just for saving me tonight, but also for your talk show, hearing your voice over the radio gives me strength and motivation every week...it means the world to me...thank you..."

Beckoning him by flexing a finger, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a sweet kiss against his cheek when he leaned in curiously.

Eyes widening, his whole face became scarlet red and his grin stretched from ear to ear. "AW, YEAH!"

He jumped, pumping his fists in the air and then proceeded to shoot you with his finger guns while winking again. "Listen, I dropped my digits on that piece'a paper ya got there, Shawty...hit me up sometime if ya wanna chill! I'm down for whatever!"

You were caught off guard by that and checked the page he signed for you, finally reading what he wrote down as he rambled on as background noise about how he wasn't a creep like those other guys and you could say no without worrying about him making a scene, he just had to shoot his shot, I mean you DID kiss ME first ya know...

"For my #1 fan, _______...Thanks for the coffee and stay outta trouble! ...and maybe call or shoot a txt, if your feelin' this funky vibe, too? Live loud, Pussy Cat ;) don't ever let anyone try an put the mute on ya! XOXOX PRESENT MIC!!!"

Followed by his phone number, and there were little hearts drawn around the page.

You were already blushing when he surprised you again by returning your gesture and swooping in to plant a kiss on your cheek this time.

Reaching up to touch the spot, you smiled up at him shyly. "I can't wait...please be safe out there..."

"You got it! SEE YA SOON!" The Pro nodded vigorously, giving an enthusiastic wave of goodbye before grabbing his and Eraserhead's drinks, practically bouncing with every step.

It made you giggle, but you were trying not to get your hopes up too much. For all you knew, he gave his number out to every girl that asked him for a signature.

"Are you happy now...?" Shouta grumbled, taking the cup being offered as he turned to resume patrolling. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! HECK YEAH I AM! I'M ON CLOUD NINE RIGHT NOW, I JUST MET MY FUTURE WIFE!!!!!!!!"

You heard him very clearly, the blush traveling all the way down your neck this time, and you couldn't help another small giggle, your heart fluttering with happiness like the wings of the butterflies in your belly.

He just had that effect on you.

Glancing down at the notebook in your hand as you sipped your quickly melting frosty, you noticed in the bottom right corner was a little arrow, below which was written the word "flip".

You looked up again but the two Pro Heroes were already gone.

Curiously, you flipped over the page.

MARRY ME?!?!!

a. YES!!!!!

b. a

c. b

That smooth sonuvabitch had you blushing and giggling all night.

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thatweeboverthereisthirsty · 3 years

Text

Leona x Reader: Insecurities

This was an angst/comfort story I’ve been meaning to write up for a while now. I finally finished it and am a little iffy about how the ending turned out, but I needed to get it done so I could move on to some other requests. There’s also a hint in there about a future personal headcanon prompt that I will write up when I get the chance.

Rated M because of a reference to bad language and the black market for women (it’s very brief and for the most part subtle but I’m just warning you)

Warnings: angst, language, violence, kidnapping, fem!reader, mention of sexual slavery

If you would like to know what Kahaba means you can research it online. It is swahili but it is an inappropriate word and isn’t necessary for the plot line.

The flowers swayed lightly in the breeze, spreading their natural perfume across the area. You inhaled deeply and sighed. The sun felt lovely on your face and bare shoulders.

The shirt you wore had no sleeves, only straps which criss crossed in an elegant pattern on your back. A string of beads fell across your chest and the pants you wore were thin and billowy. You had received the outfit on the morning of your second day at the castle. Despite your boyfriend's lack of royal manners, he was still the second prince of the savannah and so you were treated like royalty as well.

Now you stood in the castle gardens all by yourself, per your request, and simply enjoyed the peacefulness of the area around you. It had been a long week filled with feasts and parties that left you utterly exhausted. It was no wonder that Leona wanted to sleep all the time. You couldn’t imagine how anyone who didn’t have the energy of an eight year old could live in such a bustling environment.

The amount of maids and guards that seemed to follow you everywhere was simply ridiculous. You were plenty capable of taking care of yourself and it wasn’t like any bad people were after you anyways. You doubted that most outsiders even knew you existed, much less the fact that you were spending the holidays in the castle. After much persuasion you had convinced them to leave you be, for at least thirty minutes in the gardens. Nothing could possibly go wrong in that amount of time. Turns out you were wrong.

A whistling sound quickly came to your attention and something whizzed past your ear. “What?” Another whistling sound drew your attention and you turned to check what could possibly be coming at you. A searing pain made itself known in your shoulder. You grabbed it quickly and yelped. Your eyes looked around for the source of your pain and landed on an arrow embedded in the ground.

Confusion and fear spread through your body as another arrow latched onto your leg. You shut your eyes in pain and cried out as your leg buckled. No, I have to run. Goddamnit instincts now is not the time to take a break. Adrenaline should have had you up and running by now but instead your body felt sluggish. It didn’t take long to figure out what had happened. As numbness spread through your shoulder and leg you fought valiantly against the sedatives which worked quickly to put you down.

The gardens blurred into a painting of abstract colors and you distantly noticed a person approaching you. “Why...sleepy...who…” Your voice slurred your words till they were nearly intangible and you felt the last sparks of fight being extinguished. Patches of black dotted your vision as you sank into the vulnerable sleep that you knew could be your demise.

-------

Bubbles. Bubbles were forming underneath you and pushing you towards the surface. It was a pleasant feeling but you couldn’t help but notice the worry that gnawed on your heart as the surface approached. You knew that above the water was where you had to go, and yet a part of you didn’t want to leave the comfortable warmth that the water provided. As the surface drew near you began to understand why you didn’t want to escape the water. A dull pain in your shoulder and leg quickly turned into a harsh sting. Your head throbbed and bright light stabbed at your eyelids in an attempt to damage the fragile pupils hidden behind them.

Finally and regrettably you were pushed through the top of the water and flung into consciousness. As if you really had needed air you started panting and coughing violently. Your throat was dry and your lungs constricted painfully every time you wheezed in another breath. After a few more minutes of hacking you realized it was probably due to the temperature in the room. Each of your fingers and toes were numb to the point where they would barely respond and unconscious shivers wracked your body.

“Ha look who woke up!” A voice echoed through the room and made you wince as your head throbbed in response to the high volume. A man in about his thirties chuckled and made his way over to you. As a first response you struggled, trying to put distance between yourself and the stranger. It didn’t work however since you were tightly tied to a chair. The man chuckled and leaned down so he could look straight into your eyes.

“You poor thing. I had originally planned on kidnapping you for ransom but it turns out that the royal family isn’t all that interested in having you back.” Your blood ran cold. No. He’s lying. Leona probably has people out looking for you at this very moment.

“I can see you trying to convince yourself that I’m bluffing. It’s truly unfortunate. I really could have used the money. However, you are attractive and young enough that I should be able to fetch a pretty penny for you on the black market.” You squirmed and flinched backwards when his hot, rank breath hit your face. You hoped he planned on using the money for dental hygiene. Not that it mattered. Leona would rescue you. After all he loved you.

“Leona will come for me. He loves me just as I love him. There’s no chance in hell that you will be allowed to get away with this!” The man stepped back at your outburst and looked surprised for a moment before breaking down into hysterical laughter.

“Oh man that is one of the best things I have ever heard,” he trembled, trying to contain himself, “I contacted your so called lover and he told me it wasn’t worth his time. Said he would rather take a nap than deal with this. Your prince has made his decision and I have made mine. You will be a fine slave, as long as we cut off that worthless tongue.”

You wrestled with the ropes harder in a desperate attempt to escape. Tears slipped down your cheeks and thoughts of hopelessness invaded your mind. Would Leona really do that to me? Of course he would. It’s all been a lie. He doesn’t love me. He’s too lazy to love anyone. That stupid lion! Mentally you shushed yourself. These thoughts were ridiculous. The man was obviously bluffing. This man is a kidnapper you can’t trust anything he says.

A ring drew your attention back to the man in front of you. He had gotten much closer and was now standing directly in front of you. The sound of a facetime call being received echoed in the dark room.

“What?” An annoyed but familiar voice came through the phone and you smiled realizing who it was. It would all be over soon. Leona would come for you and you would be safe.

“Good afternoon your majesty,” a growl reverberated through the device, “I am giving you one last chance, give me what I want and you can have the girl. If not,” the man flipped open a knife and pressed against your cheek. He dragged the tip of the blade down to your lips, leaving a ribbon of crimson behind. “I’ll take her tongue and her body. Don’t you think she would make a fine kahaba, prince of the savannah?”

A sigh came and you could almost imagine your boyfriend rolling his eyes. You nodded to yourself to try and reassure yourself that he would come for you no matter what. “For the last time she’s expendable. Do what you wish but don’t call me again. I have a date with my bed.”

The beep of the call ending cut through the tension in the air and confirmed the man's claims. Dread and hopelessness bubbled up in your stomach and filled you with horror. He really never loved you. The realization numbed your cheek and the rope burns on your skin. Leona’s words repeated themselves in your head.

Distantly you registered your kidnapper reaching for you. There was hardly any response when he roughly grabbed your chin and forced your lips apart. Two dry and bitter tasting fingers yanked your tongue forward and you whimpered in response. The man chuckled and pulled the knife back out, although you could barely see what he was doing through your tears.

“Now stay still Kahaba, we wouldn’t want to further damage that pretty face of yours now would we.” The man raised his hand and you squeezed your eyes shut as a stinging sensation hit your tongue.

----------

Startled, you opened your eyes and instinctively reached up to feel your tongue. The muscle was still intact although you did taste blood in your mouth. Feeling around your mouth, you realized that it wasn’t a knife that had sliced your tongue, it had been your teeth. A sigh of relief left you.

Quickly you realized that you weren’t tied to a chair and you weren’t in a damp room. You were in a large and finely decorated room. It was dark but not pitch black since moonlight and starlight filtered through the open windows. A calming breeze blew in past the beaded curtains making your skin prickle in response.

It was then that you noticed your shivering. The savannah often had pleasant weather even at night and your soft sheets and blankets had kept you comfortably warm without being overbearing. Although the days had been almost sweltering, the night was a very enjoyable temperature. Nothing to illicit shivering on the level that you were. It became apparent that you were not so much shivering, more trembling.

A nightmare. That’s all that it was. You wrapped your arms around yourself and moved out of the bed so you could get to the bathroom. The light stung your eyes but you bared it until they adjusted. Splashing cool water on your face you let your mind wander back to the contents of your dream. Soon tears slipped down your cheeks and into the porcelain sink below.

“Kahaba” The word echoed through your mind and you sobbed harder. Shaking you sunk to the floor and stifled a cry in your palm. The cold tile reflected your image and let you see how pathetic you looked. Crying over a dream. No wonder Leona didn’t love you. The cries stopped as you paused. But Leona does love me. It was all just a dream so why am I worrying. Sniffing you repeated the logic in your head as you cleaned up your face and tended to your puffy eyes. If you went to sleep like this then they would surely be red and irritated for the rest of the day.

A sigh left your lips once you had calmed down enough to feel tired. Willing yourself not to think about the nightmare you laid down and attempted to find sleep. Yet as hard as you tried, sleep would not come.

----------

Leona growled when he sensed another presence in his room. He sat up and glared into the darkness. His cat eyes quickly adjusted allowing him to spot his sister in law standing by his bed. His growls ceased and he raised a questioning eyebrow. It was unlike her to enter his room in the first place, nevermind the middle of the night.

Scenarios clouded Leona’s head as he remembered that you were staying in the palace as well. Normally if something happened he would only find out about it afterwards or if his help was needed, but if something had happened to you then naturally as your lover he would be informed immediately.

“What happened? Is everything alright? Is it y/n? Is she hurt?” Farena’s wife shushed him and held up a hand.

“Y/n is unharmed although I do believe she had a nightmare.” Leona relaxed and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was walking by on my way to bed when I picked up sounds of crying from her room.” He tensed up again. Crying? You had never mentioned having nightmares before.

“Thank you for letting me now.” He said before she left the room. He pushed his covers off despite his body telling him to lay back down. The hallway was dimly lit so it didn’t disturb his eyes while also being easy to travel. When he made it to your room he leaned his ear against the door and listened carefully. He picked up on the sounds of your breathing and noticed that they were fast and inconsistent breaths. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear you crying he could pick up on your distress scent and your body was obviously coming down from a panicked state.

Leona carefully pushed open the door and your breathing stopped. Knowing that you had already noticed his entrance, he sighed and closed the door behind him. The prince made his way over to you and laid down on your bed behind you. The mattress dipped and shifted as your boyfriend's warmth moved closer. He wrapped his arms around your stiff form and pressed against your back, whispering a low “relax” in your ears before you finally let your tense body unravel itself.

Minutes of silence passed where the only things heard were your mixed breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets. Then Leona rolled onto his back and pulled you so your head was on top of his chest. You gasped and froze. His heartbeat thrummed in your ear and you could feel the rise and fall of his ribs with every breath.

“What was your nightmare about?” You were shocked to find out Leona knew about your nightmare, but you supposed someone could have heard you crying through the walls. For a moment you lay there quietly, trying to determine how you should explain it to him. When you felt that you had gained enough confidence, you started at the beginning of your dream and recited the events that followed.

When you got to the part where Leona decided that he didn’t need you, Leona growled and tightened his grip on you. By the time you finished you felt like crying again and you were sure your face was burning with shame. It was hard to admit weakness to anyone, let alone Leona. He probably thought that the dream was for the most part right, and that you were too weak to be an adequate mate for him.

The lion man sighed.

“Well let me start by saying that the dream you had is a load of bull,” he mentally winced at how harsh he sounded. He had never been good at this kind of stuff. “I would never let you get kidnapped. Nevermind leave you there.” his tone softened and he tilted your chin up. “Listen, I’m not good with words and things, but I do understand my feelings for you clearly, and you mean so much more to me than anything has. I would never sleep again if it meant keeping you safe.” Your eyes widened at this. “I love you. Nothing is ever going to change or get in the way of that.”

Taking a moment to process what he had said, a thought struck you.

“Leona? You don’t think I’m weak do you?” The lion stiffened then relaxed beneath you.

“Of course not my little herbivore. I believe that you are very strong in ways that other people aren’t. Even me.” You smiled and nuzzled into his chest. Your insecurities had been proven incorrect and you suddenly felt exhausted after all that worrying. Underneath you, Leona began to purr as your breathing evened out. Tomorrow he would console you further, but for now, he was happy to see you rest.

#twst wonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst leona #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona x mc #leona kingscholar x you #leona kingscholar x reader #savanaclaw #angst #nightmares #swahili #reference #twst x reader

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house-of-galathynius · 3 years

Text

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

Prologue ~ Chapter Two

Chapter One: Meeting

Summer had always been Aelin’s favourite time of the year. It was the soft breezes and the long days, the late nights. It was the time of year where she didn’t have to be a princess. There was no need for the formalities or the pretending.

Summer was the season of freedom.

And when she had woken up that morning, the sun was still low in the sky, the mist dancing between the trees and the bird song was mellowed, quieter somehow. She had known that summer was over; her Fae senses could feel the shift of the season. Summer giving way to the crispness of autumn. And despite the peacefulness and beauty of autumn, it was also her least favourite time of the year.

Court would begin again. Gone would be the long nights of stargazing, the lazy days lounging in the sun with a book or the trips to the Staghorns; now was the time for her royal duties to start once again.

A gentle tap of the door had Aelin groaning and shifting in bed.

“Your Highness? Your father would like to know if you will be eating breakfast with them this morning.” Her maid Elspeth was one of the good ones. She was in her late forties and had been with Aelin for her entire twenty years. She was a short woman, her hair starting to grey at the roots, her cheeks always rosy and plump. But Aelin loved her like a mother.

Elspeth slid into the room and closed the door behind her, she strode over to the towering windows which looked out over the forest beyond the castle. The thick curtains were opened to reveal a grey morning. Elspeth didn’t wait for a response from Aelin as she continued her way around the room to the balcony on the far side. She opened the doors and Fleetfoot, Aelin’s beloved dog perked up and trotted off to the fresh air.

Elspeth was well versed in the ways of Aelin. Which is why her final task was to perch on the edge of her bed and pull the covers back.

“Aelin, you have guests arriving today.”

She shot up in bed, staring at Elspeth. She had forgotten about the guests. If she had, she definitely would have been up earlier. She said as much.

“The Queen of Doranelle, Sellene Whitethorn is arriving with her family.”

Of course. There had been turmoil in Doranelle for many years and finally, only a few months ago, they had decided on a new queen. It had been a surprise to her Uncle Orlon when it had been announced, but nonetheless, had extended an invitation to visit once the new queen had settled into her new role. Just as the offer would be extended to me one day- when I became queen.

“I suppose I cannot get away with my usual attire today?” She said. Elspeth laughed and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. A dress will be required.”

Elspeth had picked a simple yet regal gown in a deep Terrasen green. Elspeth tried and failed to get Aelin to braid her hair, or at least put it into a simple updo. But Aelin enjoyed her hair free, the long blonde locks were one of her favourite assets, and never understood the need to hide it.

She surveyed herself in the mirror, despite her late night with Sam, she looked awake and bright eyed. Ready for a day of acting like a princess.

When Aelin arrived into the breakfast room, her father and mother were already seated, Orlon too. She took up the seat beside her mother and smiled apologetically to the three of them. Tardiness was one of her weaknesses and had frustrated all of them to no end. But with the night she had just had… if only her parents knew.

“Late night again, Aelin?” Orlon grinned. He had always been privy to Aelin’s whereabouts, where she would sneak off to, who she would meet.

Sam was not royal, in fact, he held no title in Terrasen. He had moved when he had been sixteen years old; escaping the grips of an assassin in Rifthold. He had stowed away on a ship, not knowing where it was going, but hoping that anywhere was better than before. He arrived in Terrasen with a few coins and his wits about him. He’d managed to secure work at a library. The owner had been old and frail, unable to lift the books, unable to do much at all. Sam had taken it upon himself to help in any way he could. And six years later he was the proud owner. It’s where Aelin had met him. Since then, she had been sneaking off to see Sam every chance she could; the only person knowing being Orlon.

She knew it could never be more than it was with Sam, a reason why she had been so quick to shut down his offer the night before. And despite Terrasen being a forward-thinking country— the King was married to a man for Gods sake— they still drew the line at commoners and royalty marrying, or even being involved, the only exception being a mating bond; something so rare and final that no King or God could argue with it. So she tried to enjoy the stolen moments she had with Sam. Avoiding the advances of any foreign royalty that may come her way. The King only allowing it on the condition that when a serious offer of marriage arose, Aelin would accept and take her place as the next heir to the throne. She loved Sam, and on occasion had been angry at the impossibility of it being anything other than what it was now.

There was the other problem of her immortal lifespan. Sam was human and at some point it would have to end anyway.

“Did you forget about the arrival of the Whitethorns today?” Her father asked.

“It may have slipped my mind.” An easy lie. She took a bite of the pastry in front of her, savouring the sweetness. “But I am here now, and ready to be the perfect princess.” Another bite.

Her mother chuckled to herself, sipping on the herbal tea that she would drink every morning without fail. Orlon cleared his throat, giving her a look.

“The queen is new to this Aelin. We must ensure she is welcomed and feels comfortable during her stay.”

A roll of her eyes. “I think I can manage being nice for a few days.”

“Weeks.”

She stopped mid-chew.

“The Whitethorns will be here for at least three weeks. Their castle is under renovations, so we offered them a place to stay whilst they were underway.”

She had never heard of such a thing. A new queen, leaving her territory for weeks?

“Darling, you are not expected to entertain them alone, nor be present at every minute.” Her mother had always been the diffuser; ensuring the conversations remained civil, if not for her sanity, for the sake of Aelin’s temper that had resulted in a few fires. “But the sneaking off will have to stop. Lysandra will understand.” Lysandra being Aelin’s excuse for when she was actually sneaking off to see Sam.

She smiled politely and confirmed that she would be well behaved for when the guests arrived.

And that was that.

She finished breakfast quickly and excused herself before they could make her stay longer. Aelin made her way to the training ground just beyond the walls of the garden. Orlon had had it built when it was evident Aelin needed a place to train with her powers. Fire magic was a rare gift, one that hadn’t been in the royal family since Brannon. She was grateful for the space, even if she no longer needed to train to the same extent. Only meeting with her trainer once every month.

“I thought I might find you here.” Lysandra’s voice echoed across the stones. “Hiding?” Lysandra laughed.

“Something like that.”

Lysandra was silent as she perched on the stone bench, watching as Aelin made shields of flame, as she danced the fire through her fingers and flung her powers towards the wall.

“I won’t be available for a while Lys. The Queen of Doranelle and her family are arriving today.” Aelin held the flame in her palm. “I need you to send a message to Sam for me.”

Lysandra had been the daughter of one of her mothers maids. And when her mother had died, Aelin’s mother could not stand the thought of Lysandra going to an orphanage. So she had housed Lysandra and trained her as a lady-in-waiting for Aelin. And even though they hated each other as children, the older they got the more they understood the other.

“I heard one of the Whitethorn princes is extremely handsome. Do you think he’d be interested?” Aelin snorted. Any person would be insane not to be attracted to Lysandra.

“Gods help the poor male if you pursue him.” Aelin returned to her flame.

“We all know that you’re going to marry me one day.”

They both whirled at the sound of the male voice at the archway. Aedion stood there in all his glory. He wore a midnight blue jacket and dark pants, clothes for important people, Aelin thought. It was envy that Aelin was feeling. Aedion may be a prince, but he would never be King; marrying Lysandra would never be a problem, if she ever agreed, that was.

Lysandra rolled her eyes and flipped her hair to the side. “Aedion, we both know you can’t handle me.”

“We’ll see, Lysandra.” Mischief glittering in his eyes.

Aedion took his wandering eyes away from Lysandra and back to Aelin, who had already lost interest in their banter.

“What do you want Aedion? Aelin and I were busy.”

“I’m here to tell Aelin that the Whitethorns will be here any moment, and her father wishes for her to be in the great hall to welcome them.”

No peace. Summer was well and truly over then. Her flame flickered out and she brushed down her dress that was lightly coated in dust. She shook out her hair and let it fall past her shoulders, running her fingers through it to release any tangles.

“How do I look?”

“Like your father is going to kill you when he see’s the mess on your clothes.” Aedion held his arm out, she linked hers through it and smiled back at Lysandra who was brushing her own dress down.

“I’ll see you later Aelin.” A smile. “Always a pleasure, Aedion.” And then she was gone.

Aelin and Aedion strolled down the path that led back into the gardens and then into the tall white palace of Orynth. The guards bowed their heads as she passed, the only acknowledgement that they would give. They continued into the palace, the halls empty of people.

“Did they have to put out so many flowers? I feel like I’m just going to sneeze the entire time.” Aedion laughed, but didn’t respond as they approached the doors to the great hall.

The room was only ever used for special occasions, I suppose a new queen included that. The room was large, taking up an entire wing of the castle, it’s ceiling tall, gold chandeliers dropping from it. The walls were painted white, with green and gold accents dotted around— the colours of Terrasen. The room was magnificent, every inch dripping in wealth and splendour.

When she entered she dropped into a low curtsey. Orlon was sat atop the Antler Throne, his eyes fixed on her and Aedion— who was also bowing low. Her father and mother were sat on two smaller seats to Orlon’s left. A second, smaller throne rested next to Orlon’s; for the consort of the king. Which was unusually empty; Orlon’s husband usually filling the spot.

As soon as she was in her place and everyone else were in their correct spots the guard at the end of the hall announced the arrival of the first Whitethorn family members. Aelin knew this formality all too well— get the lesser family members out of the way first, and then announce the most important. So she dropped her eyes and fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. She kept her eyes averted as the guard listed off the names of lesser royals and their spouses. A pinch on her shoulder made her look up, she spun to berate Aedion for being an ass, when the guard started to speak once more.

“Your majesty, I would like to present Rowan Whitethorn, Prince of Doranelle and Endymion Whitethorn, Prince of Doranelle.”

The two males stepped through the open doors and she met the eyes of the shorter male. He was handsome, of course; and she smiled politely at him, wishing this would go faster. He smiled back, lowering his head slightly before doing the same to Aedion. Aelin tore her eyes away and looked at the second male stood next to him. Her breath caught in her throat as she beheld what was in front of her.

It took him a moment to look toward her, and when their eyes met she felt every hair on her body stand up. His pine green eyes met her own and it was like the world was falling around her. She swallowed and forced herself to breathe, her body heating.

The male in front of her seemed to be doing the same thing. His breathing turned shallow and he couldn’t tear his eyes from hers.

It was like everything around her was spinning or maybe she was falling, Orlon’s voice faded to the background, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart.

As she stared into the eyes of her mate.

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #aelin ashryver #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #throne of glass fanfiction #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #tower of dawn #sarah j maas #sjm #sjmaas #only you rowaelin

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babydaddyleorio · 3 years

Text

falling for you

pairings: Dabi x fem!reader

word count: 1,757

warnings: a shit ton of angst, grammatical errors

The truth was It was over for the two of you. It was a hard pill to swallow, but one that you had to unfortunately accept.

You and Dabi stood back to back on the rooftop as helicopters twisted and turned above your heads. The spotlight harshly shined across your scathed face and you had to cuff a hand to shield your eyes from the intensity of the brightness. You turned your head, analyzing the current state your boyfriend was in since he endured the most damage. Dabi staggered in his spot as If to be chasing his balance, holding on to the wound that was placed on the side of his stomach.

The League had tried to carry out the mission of dismantling the hero society completely, using you and Dabi as pawns to infiltrate UA. They wanted to start by eliminating everyone that was present in the school, relieving the city of any future hope they harbored for heroes. The plan was foolproof in your opinion, but It inevitably was sabotaged since the League had a mole planted unbeknownst to them. By the time you and Dabi had arrived at your positions, the heroes were already waiting for you with smiles on their faces. Being severely outnumbered, the both of you were left with no choice but to flee the area. Of course the Heroes were such pests that they ended up trailing you, stopping at nothing to obliterate you and Dabi. You sucked your teeth in annoyance as you recounted all the injuries Dabi had gotten just from trying to protect you.

Your eyes shut themselves, the intense wind from the blades of the many helicopters making your hair fly in all types of directions. Dabi grabbed your hand, feebly looking for any exits that could save you both in this moment, but It was futile since they had already cornered you like flies on a spider’s web.

“Give yourself up, League of villains! Or else we’ll have no choice but to open fire.” The man who you assumed was the chief policeman yelled into his megaphone while staring down at the both of you with malice in his eyes. Dabi tsked to himself angrily, shaking his head while gripping his body tighter.

“We can’t go out like this.” You spoke suddenly while gazing towards Dabi with creased eyebrows. Dabi chuckled lowly, turning to look at you with a smirk shaping his lips.

“Don’t worry, I got you-”

Before you could even blink, a bullet pierced Dabi straight through his chest, causing him to stumble off the ledge of the building from the immense force. You gasped with wide eyes and flung your body towards him, grabbing on to his hand just before he fell into the black abyss below you.

“Hang on, I’m going to try to pull you up.” You grunted into the air and mustered all your strength to yank his body, but pain mercilessly shot up your arms as little progress was made from your attempts.

“Stop, It’s no use.” Dabi rasped, sucking in a breath at how unbearable his pain was becoming shortly after doing so. Dabi couldn’t believe how terrible life was looking for him right now. It vexed him that he was able to endure the agonizing suffering Endeavour put him through for years, but a few measly bullets was what was going to take him out of this world?

“No, I think I can do It.” You expressed quickly, continuing your hardest to lug him back to the rooftop. Dabi looked up at you, watching through hooded eyes as you tried your best to keep him afloat. His throat felt dry as he finally came to terms with what he had to do for the both of you right now. His expression became dull as he relaxed his body to fall slack, and confusion blanketed you as you wondered why Dabi had stopped his movements.

“Leave me and save yourself while you still can.” He demanded and you finally stopped your tugging, in fact your whole body had gone still at his words.

Leave him? No you could never do such a thing.

“Don’t do this to me, Dabi. We’re a team, I’m not going to leave you.” You insisted, ignoring the nonsense he was currently spewing. Dabi smacked his lips, the pain in his stomach starting to eat away at his patience.

“Y/n, look at where we are right now. The cops and heroes have surrounded us, I’m hanging off the side of a 200 feet tall building with wounds everywhere, and you can barely hold on.” Dabi squeezed your hand firmly and the feeling still lingered across your palm as you licked your dry lips.

“It’s time you let go.”

Your mouth fell open, unable to process what Dabi meant by that. You hadn’t realized It yet, but your eyes had begun watering which tampered with your clear vision. You told yourself that this could’ve just been from all the debris that was flying into them, but deep down you knew that your sore eyes was sparked by the ending of your story being closer than you had hoped.

“You know I can’t do that.” Your voice cracked as you spoke and your hands had become overwhelmingly sweaty as you kept an iron grip onto his. Dabi slowly looked up into the obsidian sky, a series of events suddenly playing in front of him as If he were watching a movie. Realization finally hit Dabi as he saw himself and you appear in the clouds.

It was his life flashing before his eyes.

The first scene he saw was the day he first met you and his heart pounded heavily against his chest as his eyes captured the bright smile that swept across your face when he introduced himself to you. What he wouldn’t give to go back to that day.

The next thing that appeared in front of him was your wedding day. You wore an angelic white dress with your hair done elegantly, and the way your skin glowed as you walked down the aisle was enough to snatch Dabi’s breath away from him. I wish I could have proposed to you and met you at the altar.

The last thing that was shown above him was Dabi holding you in his arms, your belly being swole as your hands rested endearingly on It. I’ll never get the chance to have the family I’ve always dreamt of.

Tears steadily dropped from Dabi’s eyes, his stomach churning as a helicopter suddenly blocked his view of the future you could have had together.

“Dabi? Do you hear me?” You frantically asked him, having to raise your voice slightly higher to grab his attention. Dabi’s gaze seemed far away to you, but you quickly were reminded that he was still there by the tear you saw roll down his chin.

“I really wish I could’ve been with you until the very end.” Dabi sniffled with a strangled voice and your eyebrows shot up at what he was implying.

“You will be with me until the very end!” You shouted confidently, but Dabi’s vacant gaze was still placed on the black sky. His eyes then shifted down towards you, and your breath caught in your throat as you got a glimpse of the small smile that adorned Dabi’s face. With the little strength Dabi had left, he moved his free hand so that It laid on top of yours.

“It’s time.” Dabi announced and you moved your head back in disbelief. The sound of what you assumed was the squad of Heroes and policemen's footsteps attacked your ears as they stomped up the stairs that led to where you were at. You couldn’t believe this was all happening and all of It felt as If It were moving too fast.

“No…” You said, barely above a whisper. The wind circulating around you blew harder, and the feeling of uneasiness had sunk down to the pit of your stomach

“Surrender now!” You heard the police yell through his megaphone again, his loud voice now closer than It had been when he first used It.

“Shut up.” You hissed in response, clenching your jaw to the point where It hurt.

“Let me go, y/n.” Dabi urged, and by now your ears had begun ringing from the police sirens that surrounded you.

“Shut up.” You were pleading now, shaking your head side to side as tears streamed from your swollen eyes.

“Give yourselves up right now or we’ll do it by force!” The chief shouted into his megaphone once again and your whole body started to convulse as a sob took over you.

“Shut up, shut up! All of you just shut up!” You yelled repeatedly, closing your eyes tightly as their voices invaded your head. You didn’t want to give yourself up, and you didn’t want to let go of Dabi either. You banged your fist on the cement ground as you heard the footsteps of the police get louder.

“Don’t you think this hurts me too? I don’t want to leave you, but I need to do this. You’ve helped me so much, I don’t know where I would be without you.” Dabi yelled over everything, hoping to be the one that captured all your attention. You looked down at him and saw the pain that was sprawled across his face, hiccuping as the spotlight stopped over you once again.

“Please, do this last favor for me y/n.” Dabi begged, this time his voice desperate. “Please let me go.”

Your hand was tired and at that moment you could see that Dabi was too. His eyes were low and blood had now seeped across his T-Shirt, making It crimson instead of the white It was before you left your home. You felt claustrophobic as everyone demanded that you listened to their commands and with one last look at your shaking hands, you had decided what to do. You inhaled a deep breath of the frigid night air before slowly nodding your head.

“Okay.” You finally said, the door behind you bursting open, showcasing the many heroes and policemen that were here to execute you.

“Okay.” Dabi smiled weakly, his eyes shining under the harsh light.

You turned your head to the side while shutting your eyes, letting Dabi’s fingers slip from yours.

“Y/n, look at me.” Dabi requested and you reluctantly opened your eyes to see his face one last time. The policemen were closing in on you now and It had finally dawned on you that time had run out for the two of you and It was nothing you could do to get It back.

Dabi’s hand dropped out of yours and you watched with a heavy heart as his body plummeted to the ground. Dabi’s hair had covered his eyes, but you still were able to get a glimpse of his upturned lips as he grew farther and farther away from you.

I love you, he mouthed and your bottom lip quivered as you mouthed It back.

I love you too, Dabi.

Dabi closed his eyes, spreading his arms wide as the air tickled his skin.

He heard your piercing scream as gravity pushed him down faster, a lone tear managing to cascade down his cheek.

“I’ll see you in our next life.” Were the last words that fell from Dabi’s mouth before his world went blank and your loud cries filled the air.

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

Text

Her Monster

Prompt: Nighttime | AO3 link here. Connect with me on Twitter. Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

The next time Sasuke went back to Konoha, Sakura greeted him at the gate. She was armed with her usual cheery grin and a bouquet of daffodils for him. He welcomed her presence like the breath of fresh spring air after a harsh winter.

He didn’t stay long however. He just had to physically report to the council of elders, and by afternoon, he was back to the gates, wondering how he will say goodbye to her this time. But she was already there with her rucksack bag, a determined look on her eyes, and an expression that didn’t take no for an answer. Maybe he was in need of company after all, not that he disliked it. Her presence was warm and reminded him of home.

He never minded her conversations – it was a cherished addition to his monotonous days. Somehow, he started to saw countless lives of the villagers through her eyes, as if he interacted with them himself, as if he was there to see it all unfold. He was let in on the gossips, too and the pet peeves she had for their batchmates in the academy. It was another foreign life for him.

She had trouble sleeping on their first week together. He made sure to maintain his distance from her area, mindful of her personal space, but he noticed how she would toss and turn until she would slip a pill into her mouth and slump like a log.

And here he thought he was the one with nightmares.

On their second month together, they became comfortable enough to sleep beside each other. He initiated the move first, grumbling because there were mosquitoes on his side (despite him being fully covered), and he was aware she picked up on his lame excuse. But as usual, Sakura waved this off with a chuckle and jokingly told him, “I still have space. No blood-suckling insects here.”

As if it was his second nature, he extended his still intact arm to serve as her pillow. She turned to face him and snuggled closer to his chest. Warmth enveloped his being like never before.

Until he woke up unguarded with a kunai on his neck. “What the fuck, Sakura?” She’s probably sleep-walking. Do not provoke.

It was as if he faced an entirely different person – hair untangled from the red hair band she wore, angry glints in her emerald eyes, and teeth ground together. She jumped away from him, the kunai serving as her defense. Sasuke stayed still, waiting for her to calm down.

Sakura hissed at him, “Don’t you dare touch her.”

Why is she speaking in third-person? “Have I…. Have I made you uncomfortable?”

Sakura laughed, worry etched on her features. “Uncomfortable? You fucking traitor, killer, murderer!”

She would never say these words to him, Sasuke was sure of it. Right? Right?

“This stupid, stupid girl really stayed in love with you throughout all her traumatic experiences. Do you see now – the nightly terrors she suffers from?”

Multiple kunai buried themselves around Sasuke, but he stayed still. Sakura flung at him, her hand curled into a fist, ready to pulverize him, and he knew he had to move. He quickly shifted across trees, glancing back to see the ground where he knelt collapsed into a big hole. She easily followed him from branch to branch, her agility greatly improved even after the great war, and he was afraid to be on the other end of her punches.

She’s not using chakra? Sasuke surmised to himself. This observation basically confirmed that she was sleep-walking. He heard the twig snap behind him, and he instinctively ducked, slightly missing the knife-sharp kick from the kunoichi. He could have been decapitated.

He teleported himself to the other end of the forest, having gained enough time to rummage Sakura’s bag and find her pills. Just in time, a poisoned kunai lands on his arm before he could substitute with a log. He met her mid-air with a kick and her mouth opens, just wide enough for him to pop one pill into her mouth.

And she fell unconscious, saved by his arm just before she hit the ground.

-------------------------

“Did we move places last night?” Sakura asked, seemingly unaware of what transpired over the night.

Sasuke nodded. He made sure she never saw the damage she dealt on the forest. “Sorry I had to carry you while you were sleeping. There were…insects.” The pain shot up to his arm, and he involuntarily winced. She immediately raised her brow in worry, ready to heal him, but also ready to grill him for the specifics. “I bit my tongue, don’t worry.”

Sakura didn’t talk much the whole day – possibly racking up her brain for leftover memories. And again, they fell asleep together. When Sasuke was certain she was in a deep slumber, he moved away, carrying with him her sleeping pills. After a few minutes, the Sakura resembling last night faced him again, her bloodlust palpable in the air.

“You even have the audacity to continue sleeping beside her,” she gritted through her teeth. “To touch her skin, smell her hair, and hold her hand?”

“Sakura. Tell me what’s going on.”

Kunai appeared in between her fingers, all aimed at him and with the same dosage of poison he readily took on last night. She glared at him with such anguish that it was difficult to compromise her with the Sakura he has been with. “She fucking dissociated because of you, and I’m her defense.”

Ah, this is what Ino called before as Inner Sakura. It’s her last vanguard to her mental facilities. Apparently, even to her emotions.

Sakura continued, “She had nightmares of you striking a chidori to her heart. Cold sweats, harrowing screams throughout the night. But she had the pills, and then you met again, you distrustful son of a bitch.”

He was the bane of her existence. He let go of the pills and remained defenseless from her incoming attack. Sure enough, Sakura closed their gap and trapped his clothes to the ground with the kunai.

“And yet….and yet…..she loves you.” It was a question asked with sheer incredulity. It was the same question echoing in his mind for weeks. “And if I kill you, will that free her from this nightmare?”

She pulled out a syringe filled with violet liquid from her side pocket and pointed it on Sasuke’s neck. He saw her hand tremble from his periphery so he took the initiative and pulled her hand to stab it on his artery. It was immediate, the excruciating pain coursing through his veins like prickling needles.

Sakura doubled over at how things turned out. She just planned to torture him with words, maybe wound him, to an extent – kill him – but she felt intense guilt and sadness. Two emotions that washed over her like buckets of cold ice. “Why….why would you do that? Wake her up!”

Sasuke’s eyes start to roll over and he began to lose his senses.

She panicked, wounding her palm with the sharp edge of the syringe. With what little of the liquid was left, it was enough to summon the other part of Sakura. Both of their screams filled the forest, the poison quickly taking effect.

Realizing the current predicament they were in, Sakura swiftly channeled her chakra and extracted the liquid from her body. Sasuke however was a difficult case – it had been minutes. But she did her best, working hard until dawn. By noon, he was cured of all wounds and poison.

She waited for him to wake up. Somehow, she knew what had happened what with all the scattered kunai lifted off her storage scrolls, her personal dose of syringe, and the half-empty bottle of pills.

Tears were starting to fall down on his face which he first thought was just rain. He reached out to her, softly touching her cheek. “I told you, you’ll never forgive me.”

Sakura sobbed through her words. “There was just this part of me who refused to believe…..that there was this possibility.”

His voice was hoarse but he had to ask, he had to know. “That I love you?”

Sakura nodded, her resolve breaking again.

He lifted his two fingers shakily with whatever strength he had and they made contact with her forehead. A poke, one which she knew the gravity of. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay until your monsters go away.”

Song recommendation for this chapter: For the Fickle by Reese Lansangan - Youtube | Spotify

#ssm21 #sasusaku month #sasusaku #ssm21d3 #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #sasuke #sakura #fanfic #ss fanfiction #anime fanfiction #anime

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zodiyack · 3 years

Text

Love Reunited (Love On The Run - Part Two)

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst reader has a bad bitch moment, fluff, threats + mentions of murder, no proofreading

Words: 2,114

Summary: In the heat of the moment, Y/n says something that pissed Klaus off. Elijah does the only thing he can and tells his wife to run for her life. | The only thing standing between Klaus and forgiveness from his older brother is Y/n and her freedom.

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @dpaccione, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @simonsbluee

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One.

Ever since Klaus’ resentment for Y/n, and the sworn death sentence he’d given her, chased her out of New Orleans and into constant relocation just to be safe in hiding from her husband’s brother, Elijah had developed a new feeling. He began to loathe his little brother. Though he’d claimed to have detested his brother many times before, this time was different. Even so, that wasn’t the only thing different about this time.

This time, Klaus knew he was fucked.

He’d cried for forgiveness over the past few years, yet Elijah ignored him every single time. One of the, scarcely occurring, times he actually spoke to Klaus about his apology, he’d brought up the situation with Y/n, quoting the hybrid word for word.

“You did say, ‘live with Elijah’s hate,’ did you not? So, why can you not just live with the burden of the reality that I in fact do, and will always, abhor you, Niklaus? Or are you just so diabolical, so selfish. that you merely cannot fathom losing the one person whom has vowed to stay by your side, always and forever? The one person who can tolerate you.”

“Elijah- ple-”

“So long as my wife is on the run from you, running quite literally for her life, you will never be reprieved.” Everyone who knew Elijah knew that he always kept his word. “I give you my word on that.” Always.

“Please, brother! I’ll do anything for your forgiveness-” He was genuine. As Klaus begged, practically on his knees with tears stinging his eyes, he was a hundred percent genuine.

Elijah turned his head, finally facing his brother with full attention and interest for the first time in a painful handful of years. “Free Y/n.”

“W-what?”

“Free my lover from this condemnation you have unjustly sentenced her to and allow her to walk away from your grudge without harm and without the risk of you creating blackmail material of her actions that you have unreasonably deemed intolerable.”

“Anything else?” He was only kidding, but Elijah wasn’t.

“You’ll have to collect her from whatever location she’s at currently. And please Niklaus, do so without any violence on your behalf.”

He chuckled for a second. Then his smug, carefree, expression morphed into one of uneasy guilt. “You’re...serious?” Elijah held his stern manner. Klaus took his lack of response as a yes and sighed, “Alright. Consider her free.” then he turned to go hunt for Y/n and earn his brother’s pardon.

“If you lay a hand on her,” Klaus halted in his tracks, eyes darting to the side as though he could see his brother clearly despite Elijah being directly behind him, “be it a hair pulled from her head or even a tiny meaningless spiteful threat, there will be splinters for you to pull out of your skin for years. And though it will not permanently kill you, I shall drive stake upon stake through your chest and never feel remorse for any part of it.”

Klaus almost wanted to scoff, laugh it off and tell Elijah he’d never actually do that but a part of him wondered if he really would. If his own brother would end his life for anything done to Y/n. Deep down, he knew Elijah would have a rage that would overflow and cause terror and destruction in it’s wake.

He knew the wood couldn’t kill him. He’d do it over and over again, for the next centuries to come, and the centuries after those have passed, the cycle never ending. A never ending cycle of a living hell. And a hell that he knew would be well deserved for it would only come to such a punishment if he did anything to hurt the love of his brother’s life. An easy mistake to avoid ...if your name wasn’t Niklaus.

“Understand?”

Klaus wondered what happened to the old him; the merciless, blood thirsty, cruel and sinister hybrid, the one true immortal being, now showing mercy to, and retrieving, someone who’d crossed multiple lines in his eyes. Whilst she did have a point, he chose never to say so. He chose to ignore all attempts to draw the light in him into the world. He chose to ignore all pleas for his goodness in fear of his softness- his weakness getting the people he loved hurt.

But it was time to push past that, for if he didn’t, there wouldn’t be any people for him to love.

He swallowed and redirected his narrowed eyes to the door. His jaw clenched and his breathing became uneven. “Understood, brother.”

Niklaus was a stubborn man, and he knew it. But he would do anything, very close to literally anything, to gain his family back. To atone for his mistakes over hundreds of decades. To plea for redemption from their bad sides. And although Elijah would forgive him with simply letting Y/n return to his arms once more, Niklaus new his pleading wasn’t quite over yet.

Y/n wouldn’t just forgive him so easily. She wouldn’t, and because he knew that, he wasn’t surprised when she narrowed her eyes at him and furrowed her brows before releasing an avalanche of years, years of which felt horribly elongated, of pent up rage upon him instantaneously without any form of hesitation.

He found her with the help of witches, and quite easily seeing as moving from place to place as quickly as possible would require avoiding any type of relationships with everyone. She didn’t have anyone to preform a cloaking spell, but she did have great strength as a back-up strategy.

A note, placed by the barkeep, was subtly dropped in front of her, the words written in blue by the pen he’d snatched from a barmaid’s apron as she walked past. Two little words sparked her curiosity almost immediately. Her head snapped up and turned left and right, looking for who the mysterious messenger, whom she hoped was Elijah. Much to her disappointment, the person who suddenly placed a hand on her shoulder was a different Mikaelson.

Y/n grabbed his hand and flung it off of herself harshly. “You?”

“Don’t sound so disgruntled, love, I am here to collect you after all.”

“No. I won’t be going anywhere with you.” Venom entwined her words as she referenced him. She clenched her jaw and swiftly turned to face the bar again. The scrunched up napkin was thrown over her shoulder. He opened it, “come home” sprawled messily across the soft material.

Klaus felt the anger wash over him but promptly remembered Elijah’s words. He calmed himself with a few deep breaths before clearing his throat and trying again. “I’m afraid I can’t take no as an answer.”

“And I’m afraid I would rather stake myself than go literally any place on this green fucking earth with you.” Y/n spat through her teeth.

Her blatantly obvious execrating feelings for him amused Klaus, a small grin appearing on his lips as he tilted his head. “Do you even know where I’m taking you?”

“To hell, most likely.”

Klaus, unsurprisingly, had a snarky retort ready on his tongue, but she was already out the door and taking a sneaky head start for her run to the farthest place from Niklaus possible. He was on her tail within seconds and cornered her in the woods. A smug leer, not uncommon to see upon his features, promptly slid onto his face.

“What the hell do you want, besides to kill me?”

“You to come with me.”

Y/n paused, as if she were considering his demand, then rolled her eyes. She tried to step around him, “Like that’ll do me any good-”

“It will.” Klaus stepped in front of her, blocking her way once more. “C’mon. From here on out, your sentence is over, you can return to New Orleans-”

“And how do I know you mean the words you speak? How do I know you shall stay true to whatever comes from your mouth?”

“You know me, I-”

“You’re quite correct, Klaus. I know you. I know that you are not infamous for nothing. You lie, deceive, torture, humiliate and do so many other things to people underserving of your cruelty! How should I forgive you when you have yet to adhere for the hurt you’ve infected innocents with?”

His gaze dropped, guilt creeping over his face. He knew what he did to those people.

“Do you even feel bad for what you’ve done?”

Not really. Not all the time. Hardly ever at all if he were to be honest.

“Do you feel the need to morn those you have wrongfully sentenced to death? Those you have sent to the deepest pits of hell based on erroneous judgement?”

She came for his throat, each fact that was spat from her mouth verbatim.

“You are callous and you are heinous! You wonder why your siblings hate you, and yet you constantly do vile things to people! You have erroneously punished people over and over again. You swear you will change, many times, and they believe you but then the next thing they know, they’re in a box for a couple decades. And you think they need to plead for absolution?”

Hundreds of years spent seething in hostility for her brother in law, all ranted in this one moment hit Klaus like a bus, taking the air from his lungs and sending a feeling deep into his gut like someone had just swung a baseball bat into his stomach a dozen times. But she wasn’t finished yet.

“You want to ask for my exoneration? Well you have years, and I mean fucking years, to make up for.” She laughed sarcastically. “To absolve you from everything you’ve put me through, everything you’ve taken from me, everything I’ve fucking missed because of you- to absolve you from all of that would take many years of penitence and work to fix what you have done. Are you really prepared to do that? Are you, Niklaus fucking Mikaelson, ready to take a lengthy withdrawal from your wicked and corruptive reign of evil to earn my remission?”

He hated the fact that she teased him for it, rubbed it in his face, but he knew he deserved it. Klaus knew he deserved every harsh and bitter word she spat at him. He had a thousand of years of blood on his hands, the true number of all the lives he’d snuffed out still paling in comparison to the amount of power that radiated from Y/n, the amount of guilt and remorse she’d forced onto his shoulders with simple words.

“You are no fucking king,” she sneered, “at least, not compared to me.”

Silence made the air heavy with tension as the minutes passed by. Then, she sighed heavily and spoke, slicing the thick tension with an imaginary blade. “I will go with you,” he looked to her with relief, “but I meant every word I said. You will have to work to ensure your vindication. And it will not be an easy task.”

“I understand.” Klaus bowed his head, submitting to her and trading in his crown to prove his worthiness of her forgiveness.

She happily accepted it.

“Y/n?” He couldn’t believe his eyes. Last he’d checked, he hadn’t been bitten by a werewolf or hybrid, nor had he inhaled or consumed any witchy substances that would make him hallucinate. He didn’t pray much, but in his head, his thoughts muttered over and over, “please be real.”

“Elijah!” Her eyes lit up the second they met his form. She surged forward, lips colliding with Elijah’s for the first time in years. He wrapped his arms around her and twirled her round.

The world faded to an irrelevant blur. It felt amazing to be home, to be in his arms once more, to be free of Klaus’ ridiculous furry, free of the ill intentions previously directed towards her. Minutes had went by and yet, neither of the two noticed a single thing.

Years that had passed by soon drifted away, like they weren’t apart for any of it. Like time had hit pause when she’d left his arms and resumed when she returned to them. It felt as though time froze whilst the two embraced. The moment could’ve lasted an eternity had Klaus not cleared his throat to announce his presence.

“So uh...brother...have I earned your forgiveness?”

“I suppose you have.”

“And Y/n? Have I made progress on clearing my name with you?”

She made eye contact with Elijah, exchanging a small grin before returning her eyes to Klaus and nodding slightly. “You’ve got a ways to go, but you’re off to a great start. Thank you, Klaus.”

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thenovelartist · 3 years

Text

A Blanc Slate, Chapter 4

10. Cooking Together

Things with Adrien had been…oddly tense.

He felt even more closed off than normal. Marinette wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and say that it was just because the police and detectives had been showing up more frequently lately. After all, Gabriel’s death had been determined to be by trauma to the back of his head and not due to the burns or smoke inhalation, and therefore Adrien’s injuries became suspicious.

Adrien had confessed that his father and he did get into a physical altercation, but it had been in self-defense. Apparently, Adrien had had to face his father that day when he was finishing dragging the last of his belongings out of the house, and it had ended with them fighting in the main hall. Considering Gabriel had been found in his office, that already eased suspicion.

Secondly, Adrien swore hadn’t caused the injury to Gabriel’s skull. Adrien’s fist had apparently been broken when he threw a punch that landed on his father’s jaw, which had knocked Gabriel down so Adrien could run from the house.

His story should have left Adrien in the clear, but of course the investigation had to continue until everyone was convinced it could be closed.

While Marinette was certain this put an enormous amount of stress on Adrien, she knew the collapsing of his father’s company also had to play a part in his exhaustion. After all, Adrien was the one who had to deal with it, and she’d watched him work himself to the point of crashing out on his couch.

Maybe he had a good excuse after all for not calling Nino or Alya. He barely had time for himself.

Marinette, on the other hand, realized she’d grown too comfortable forcing herself into Adrien’s life. When she started this routine of hers, she’d initially tried to coax answers out of him or convince him to rely on his friends more. But after her last meeting with Chat over a week ago now…

She stayed quiet.

It wasn’t like Marinette believed that she was the only one at fault in that situation, but she also knew she couldn’t change Chat. The only thing she could change was herself, and when Chat had pointed out her micro-managing habits derived from her need to fix things, she couldn’t deny his words. Fixing things was what she did. It was a hard habit to break, but she would have to out of respect for the people she cared for.

So, she stopped trying to pry information out of Adrien, but she realized that not prying didn’t mean she had to stop reaching out for him. Which was why she’d started cooking for him and helping him clean his apartment while he dealt with things on the phone or emails or one of the plethora of other things that was on his plate.

She tried not to force conversation too frequently, and when they did chat, she let it flow naturally while trying not to purposefully pry. She was here to help, not to fix.

As hard as that was.

“Smells good.”

Marinette glanced up, only to see Adrien was now at her side. She gave him a smile. “You mentioned you liked this meal the last time you had it, so I thought I’d make it again.”

Absently, he nodded, staring down at the food in the pan. After a moment, he turned back to her. “Why are you doing this?”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I know you have to have better things to do than come play housewife for me.”

The heat that sprawled across her cheeks reminded her that her crush on this man still raged on. If her thirteen-year-old self could see her now, not turning into a complete and total bumbling spaz at the mere mention of the word ‘housewife’, she might die of shock. Even her current self was impressed that the most reaction he elicited from her was a blush.

But that might have to do with the fact her romantic heart had grown increasingly torn between him and another blonde man in her life.

She shrugged. “Because you’re my friend, and I care about your well-being.”

“Yeah, but… why? I’ve basically been shutting you out the last two weeks.”

“You’re stressed.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled, voice quiet as though chastising himself.

She could feel the guilt radiating off Adrien. They both knew this cold nature wasn’t his true character. Marinette was already willing to let it slide due to his circumstances, but the fact even he was willing to admit—albeit in a roundabout way—that his actions were wrong made Marinette all the more willing to forgive him. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll let it slide.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“You’re under stress. It’s not like you don’t have a reason.”

“No, it’s an excuse that still didn’t excuse the behavior you shouldn’t have to put up with.”

“Are you trying to say I shouldn’t bother with you?”

“Basically.”

The bluntness of his words surprised her. She stopped stirring the contents of the pan, turning her attention back to Adrien. “Why? Do you want me to stop?”

He paused, hesitating. “Yeah. You should.”

The words hurt, but there was something in his tone that prompted her to question, “Are you saying that because I’m bothering you? Or because you think you’re bothering me?”

He didn’t answer, the silence hanging in the air answering in his stead.

“You’re not bothering me,” she assured. “And unless you really want to be alone, please, stop pushing me away. I’m your friend, and I’m more than happy to do this.”

She went back to cooking, turning down the heat on the stove before she burned anything.

“What if I’m not as great as you think I am?”

Marinette turned her attention back to him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

When she met Adrien’s gaze, those green eyes of his were somewhat softer than they had been. More open and raw, allowing her to see the extent of the pain he was in. It broke her heart that her immediate thought was his pain seemed to rival Chat’s. “What if I’m not the guy you thought you knew over the last few years?”

Marinette bit her lip, mulling over his words and how to respond to them. “Well… I can’t get to know you again if you keep pushing me away.”

The surprise in his eyes hurt, like he didn’t expect her to be so willing with a second chance. “What if you won’t like what you see?”

“That’s for me to decide, not you to decide for me.”

Again, a stretch of silence settled between them.

“Hey,” Marinette began again. “I know I shouldn’t pry, and if I am then tell me, but are you pushing us away for some reason? Maybe because you don’t think you’re worthy to be our friend?”

Adrien blinked, then turned away, seemingly unable to look at her.

Carefully, she reached out and lightly touched his shoulder, just as a reminder she was there. “We’re not going to abandon you, Adrien. Good people don’t just abandon their friends in the middle of trouble. And so, no matter what happened with your dad, we’re not going to leave you behind.”

“But why do you want to take on my shit?”

“Because that’s what friends do,” Marinette said. “Because humans are weird and decide that they enjoy the presence of certain people in their life enough that sticking around through the shit is worth it to keep that person around.”

“Even if that person isn’t the same person you once knew?”

“Yeah,” she easily said. “Besides, I know you’ll change and grow up, but I’ll bet that at heart, you’re still the same person we love.”

Adrien was silent for a long while, long enough for Marinette to finish cooking dinner. When she pulled out plates, Adrien took them from her.

“I’ll serve you tonight,” he said. “You can go have a seat. Thank you.”

With a smile, Marinette let him take the dishes. “You’re welcome.”

11. Take a Break

Marinette was sketching in her room when she heard a knock on her trap door.

At first, she thought she was imagining things, but when she heard the knock again, she was up like a shot. She flung open the trap door with a bang, shocked but thrilled to see Chat there, crouched before her so as to be on her level.

“Hey stranger,” she said with a wide grin she couldn’t tamp down.

He gave her a hint of a grin. “I’m not staying long. I’m just taking a little break from work and thought I’d come by to apologize for the last time I was here.”

Marinette frowned. “I’d like to apologize, too. You were right; I was being overly nosy. I do like fixing things, but I don’t have the ability to ‘fix’ you or force my help on you. Sorry.”

Chat shook his head. “I know you meant well,” he said. “I was being pretty nasty to you. A friend kinda made me rethink my behavior recently, so I’m sorry, too.”

With a smile, Marinette extended her hand. “Truce?”

When Chat glanced at her hand, Marinette felt a blush come to her cheeks. “Oh, um, I won’t try to drag you in or anything. But… uh… how about a fist bump?”

The smile that crossed Chat’s lips was small and sad. The first thing that came to Marinette’s mind was that she’d just reminded him of, well, her. Just her in spots. The “her” he was avoiding. And while it still killed her a little on the inside to not understand why, she knew she really couldn’t push it out of respect for him. Maybe he’d come to her, Ladybug her, when he was ready. She could hope, at least.

After a moment’s hesitation, he gently tapped her knuckles with his. Marinette had to bite back the ‘pound it’ that formed automatically on the tip of her tongue.

“Can I interest you in a cookie or two?” she asked instead. “I promise I won’t pry or anything.”

He shook his head and stood. “No, not today. I just wanted to swing by and apologize.”

Disappointing as it was, Marinette couldn’t complain considering that he took the time to come back again at all. “Do you think you’ll come back?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“I’d be happy if you did.”

He turned to her, that tiny smile still on his lips. “Thought you said you weren’t going to try to ‘fix’ me.”

“I’m not ‘fixing’ you. I’m just offering you a happy place to hang out that serves cookies.”

He huffed, smile flashing brighter for a second. He still wasn’t back to the kitty she knew, but this was much better than before. “Noted. Thanks.”

12. Cuddles

It wasn’t that day that he swung by. Or the next. Or the day after that. But four days later, Chat did drop in on her balcony.

And Marinette was more than happy to see him. “Hey, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Terrible joke,” he brushed off, leaning back against her balcony railing.

She shifted in her chair so she could face him better. “I know. You’re the punny one of the two of us.”

He just shrugged.

“Well, since you’re here,” Marinette began, “want a treat?”

“Isn’t the saying ‘feed a cat, and it will keep coming back’?”

“Something along those lines,” Marinette said with a grin, standing from her balcony chair. “Anything you want in particular?”

“Something sweet that will make the ringing in my ears go away,” he said, his eyes closing and ears dropping with exhaustion. “I’ve been getting yelled over the phone at all day.”

With a sad nod, Marinette headed down the stairs to collect a chocolate pastry and bottle of water before slipping back up to the balcony to deliver it to Chat.

When he lit up at the sight of the pastry, Marinette could feel relief bubble up within her. This was her Chat, the one who loved food unlike anyone she’d ever met. Snacks and sweets had always been met with excited grins and sparkling eyes that could rival a cartoon character. Today’s reaction might not have been that extreme, but it was still there. Marinette would count it as a win.

“So, work’s hard?” she asked, plopping down on her chair again.

“Hellish like you would not believe,” he muttered, ripping off a bit of the pastry and popping it in his mouth.

“Sorry.”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I expected this. Sucks but whatcha gonna do?”

“Well, cuddles are out of the question, so I guess just feed you sweet things?”

Chat huffed a laugh, his smile the brightest it had been since turning into Chat Blanc. Marinette couldn’t help but grin wider at the sight. “I guess if you promise to feed me, I’ll come around again,” he said.

“I’d like that.”

He nodded before popping the last bite into his mouth. “Would you mind if I hung around here a bit? I just want to escape my phone and computer at the moment.”

“Stay as long as you’d like, Chat.”

He slid down to sit on the ground. “Appreciate that, Princess.”

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #marichatmay2021 #adrinette #How'd Adrinette sneak in her again?#A lighter chapter after all that angst

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Air

This is pure fluff. Marks & Wings AU. After writing Callisto all weekend, I needed some self indulgence (well, there was plenty of that in Callisto as well, but that was all planned :D). I needed to fly free for a little while. So I did, with Scotty :D

Thank you to @scribbles97 @janetm74 @tsarinatorment and @godsliltippy for both reading and encouragement :D It has been a lovely few hours to end my weekend. Thank you ::hugs::

I hope you enjoy this, I certainly did :D

-o-o-o-

The air was brisk and startlingly cold on his face, but he revelled in it nonetheless.

It was late afternoon on a lazy day on Tracy Island. Lazy because Virgil had thrown a fit and demanded IR be shut down for twenty-four hours.

Alan was in bed with a broken arm sleeping off a rescue from hell the day before. Gordon wasn’t much better with his back, having over done it pulling Virgil out of sinking ship. Virgil himself had enough bruises to transform him into a groaning hulk of a man no-one wanted to go near. Even Johnny had been yanked from orbit to help corral the three injured operatives.

Not that Scott didn’t have other reasons for grounding his space brother. The man didn’t know what the word ‘stop’ meant after all.

This, of course, caused a rebellious backlash from said brother and Grandma had stepped in, banning both of them from any Tracy Industries work as well.

Scott had literally been sent to his room.

But his room was a boring place. He didn’t want to sleep and the thought of sitting by himself and staring at the holoprojector was just depressing.

He wanted out.

It wasn’t long before he had drifted onto the residential balcony and, with a single word to Eos, lifted his silver-grey wings and leapt into the air.

The air was his comfort zone, his escape, his reassurance. It flowed over his body and his wings in predictable patterns. Bare chested, he could feel its caress as it supported him.

Far below the ocean stretched out before him, the afternoon sun an angled glare scattering sparkles on the blue, not unlike the blue on his wings.

He folded them and dove directly down, revelling in the exhilarating speed. Moments before he would hit the water surface, he edged his wings open again, catching just enough lift to shift his angle, enabling him to spread to his full width and swoop with an eager whoop over the waves.

This close the water blurred into solid blue reflecting the sky above him. His shadowed reflection blurred with it.

A single stoke and he was climbing again, wing muscles grabbing at the air, pulling him higher, high enough to tip sideways and dive again, this time in an arc that saw him closer to the water than before.

Another swoop and he was hollering at the sky.

Stroke after stroke he climbed higher and the air grew that touch colder, chilling his skin even more. He gained enough momentum to stop and hold in the air, wings still, for just that split second before he let himself flip and dive again.

This time he curled one wing and set himself spinning before pulling both wings in tight and spiralling faster and faster, daring the ocean to reach up and slap him out of the sky.

But he was Scott Tracy.

He played the currents as if they were his own and just as if he was in his ‘bird, the fastest aircraft on this planet, he manoeuvred at the last moment and was once again skimming across the surface of the water.

A sudden shadow passed over him and a familiar voice danced on the wind. “If you caught us doing that, we’d be dead.”

Despite the words, Scott let out a laugh and arched back on his flight path, flipping himself upside down and over his younger brother and his gliding span of black feathers.

“Show off.”

Scott grinned like a madman. He’d shown Virgil a lot of his tricks, but not this one and he had no intention of sharing any time soon.

It was far too amusing to watch his expression every time Scott caught him with it.

Virgil was calmly gliding a decent height above the water, just keeping pace with Scott. He was as bare chested as his eldest brother and yesterday’s bruises were well on show. It was sobering, but Scott was happy to see him nonetheless. It had been some time since they had last just flown together.

And as always, it was very fast becoming the usual, almost an echo of their flying styles in the Thunderbirds. Virgil calmly gliding through the sky stroke after long stroke while Scott darted about him, faster and a little too eager to be out with his brother.

The air regressed Scott in age. It gave him freedom.

It was home.

And he was happy to have his brother as a guest to entertain.

Just to stir him a little more, Scott threw himself into a curve that encircled his brother at a safe but still daring distance.

“You tangle with my feathers, and I’ll kick your ass.” But it was said with amusement and Scott didn’t miss the smirk on Virgil’s face. His brother trusted him, otherwise he wouldn’t be out here.

A smile on his face, Scott broke off in an arc and turn to the east, wings climbing fast. He didn’t look back.

He knew Virgil would follow him.

It was a law of physics he was ever so grateful for.

But then a shadow suddenly over took him and Virgil was climbing faster than Scott.

And snickering.

Now that broke the laws of physics.

He couldn’t let a younger brother beat him at his own game, could he?

He threw more energy into his climb. Virgil’s greater wingspan could claw more air and his brother physically had more strength, so much like his ‘bird it was damned scary. So technically, Virgil could outpace Scott on a vertical climb.

But that was if Scott kept to the rules.

Which he didn’t and since he was high enough to do what he wanted, he did exactly that and flipped himself backwards into another plummeting dive.

Air rushed past his ears and he let out another yell as he played dodge with the planet.

Of course, his big brother radar was running the entire time, keeping an eye on exactly where Virgil was. His little brother was strong in the air, but far from as agile as Scott was and with that bruising likely not at his best anyway.

The squawk of protest as Scott dropped away, was proof enough of that.

A tiny flash of guilt at teasing his brother flickered through Scott’s mind, but he dismissed it. Virgil knew what to expect and he also knew Scott was out here to have fun.

To let loose and shake the dull off his feathers.

As Scott swooped into a glide, Virgil broke from his plummet towards the ocean, his huge wings spreading to their full span quite impressively and braking mid-air. A stubborn flap, a glare shot in Scott’s direction and he eased into a simple dive that brought him alongside.

“You won’t give an inch, will you?”

“Do you expect me to?” Scott grinned at his brother.

A grunt was all he received for that. Virgil wouldn’t expect him to be anything other than his best. Certainly not out here.

Wouldn’t stop him from grumbling about it though.

“C’mon, Virg, fly with me.” He smiled at his brother, just happy to have him out here with him.

A flicker of a smile in return that lit up those dark eyes.

Scott’s smile became a grin and he banked, shifting the wind currents around him enough to turn back towards the sun.

Virgil followed, his turn not as sharp but as equally as graceful.

For a while they just flew together, Scott leading, Virgil following his every move, calmly and quietly. Scott didn’t push it. There was consideration for Virgil, but honestly, it was comforting for him as well to just rest on the wind.

Sometimes he wished he could sleep in the air. It was so relaxing.

The sun began to dip towards the horizon eventually and Scott knew his freedom was coming towards an end.

He rebelled at the thought. He just wanted to stay out here forever.

Virgil had moved a little closer, their wings almost touching. A glance in his direction and his brother pointed down towards the ocean.

A frown and Scott looked down just as an orca breached the surface and flung itself into the air at a considerable velocity before arching backwards and hitting the water with a huge splash.

Scott didn’t need his brother’s empathic connection to know that was no ordinary whale.

“He’s supposed to be resting.”

“So are you.” A different but ever so familiar voice answered him as a pair of artificial wings swooped in to join them.

John’s span made just that slightly different sound to natural feathers that set them apart from the rest of their brothers’, but Scott was determined to not let it affect him.

The Hood had taken far too much from them already.

John levelled off on the other side of Scott from Virgil and it felt ever so right to have a brother either side.

Virgil had slowed their progress, likely for the eager orca below, but Scott didn’t mind.

There was only one missing…

As if he had some kind of telepathic link with is youngest brother, Alan suddenly swooped over the top of all of them, dipping into a glide just below them.

Probably in an attempt to hide the arm he had strapped up. “Alan! What the hell are you doing out here? You have a broken arm.”

“Arm, not wing! I am quite capable of flying, Scott. Besides, you’ve been flying with Virg for hours and he has a bruised rib.”

“What?!” He glared at the engineer. “Why didn’t you tell me? And why the hell are you out here?”

“Goddamnit, Alan!”

“How did he know and I didn’t?”

“Because he doesn’t mind his own business.” The glare sent Alan’s way promised so many words in the teenager’s future Scott might have to intervene. “I’m okay, Scott. I promise. Spending this afternoon out here with you was worth it anyway.” Virgil looked over at the sunset. “It has been so long since we’ve done something like this.”

As if in emphasis, their brother orca exhaled in a fountain of water below.

Scott glanced over at John to find his brother staring at the sunset just as much as Virgil.

Below them Alan’s golden wings shone even more gold in that light and Scott had to admit it was just nice to have all his brothers out here with him.

Out in his element.

Out where he was free of everything…except perhaps the antics of a rapscallion brother or four.

But he could live with that.

The air was cool against his face as it lit up gold with the setting sun, but he had four brothers with him and that was enough to keep him warm.

-o-o-o-

FIN

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #marks and wings #Wing!fic

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nehemia-deserved-better · 3 years

Link

Elorcan deserved about 500 more chapters all to themselves, so I decided to write one of them. I intended this story to be as canon-compliant as possible, so that it could plausibly be considered an extra Elorcan chapter in Empire of Storms. It would be set a day after their fight over Lorcan killing the ship owner in chapter 43, and before the next time we see them where Elide claims to have not spoken to him for 3 days.

So without further ado: How The Light Gets In

The nightmare began at the top of a stone stair. Elide’s heavy, uneven footfalls echoed ominously in the tight space as she descended, spiraling down into the fetid air of the dungeons. The chains snaking around her ankles rattled and slithered with each step. Yet it was not that sound which frightened Elide; it was the cacophony of despair emanating from below. Women’s voices: moaning, screaming, and—worst of all— pleading. She tried to flee back up the stair, but a phantom hand seized her chains and sent her pitching headlong into the unforgiving stone. Her fingernails splintered and bled as she scrabbled for purchase, fighting to crawl away from that horrible noise. But the pull on her chains was relentless. Elide was dragged downwards into that ocean of misery, each voice crashing over her until she was drowning in sound, unable to distinguish her own screams.

—————

Lorcan stood at the prow of the ship, illuminated by the light of the stars, and cursed his keen fae hearing. He couldn’t block out the soft whimpers coming from within the ship’s cabin, or the rustling of a small form tossing under the blankets. He didn’t want to know that Elide was having a nightmare, didn’t want to care. After all, why should he? Pathetic she had called him, nearly spitting the words in disgust. Jealous, lonely, pathetic, unhappy—each insult flung from her with greater conviction than the last. And when she had finally finished, face mottled red in rage and chest heaving, he couldn’t even muster a convincing facade of anger. Instead, as he looked down on that tiny, furious woman, he felt only admiration and a surprising amount of desire. When was the last time someone had dared speak to him with such candor? He had killed males for lesser offenses, and she knew it. And yet, she remained stubbornly unafraid.

But when she had followed that outburst with a demand to leave the ship, to leave him... Lorcan realized belatedly that the gut-wrenching sensation he'd felt then had been fear. He tilted his head up to look at the stars, admonishing himself for that weakness. This human should not have such power over him. Still, he knew he would not allow this fierce creature out of his sight. He wanted more of her. He wanted to feel her thick, dark hair between his fingers, and to do more with that red mouth than just gaze at it. But mostly, he wanted more of her passion, honesty, and bravery— her ability to see right through to the core of him with those cunning eyes. Lorcan found himself striding for the cabin door before he could think better of it.

—————

It is a peculiarity of nightmares to seamlessly blend one horror into the next, forgoing transitions in exchange for an unending montage of terror. And so, Elide suddenly found herself standing at the base of the stair. She pressed her palms over her ears to no avail; nothing could block out that endless, many-voiced wailing. A long hall lined with torches and iron doors stretched out before her. She knew what lay beyond those doors, though her mind recoiled from the thought of witches and alters and demons. In the flickering light of the fires stood a ghostly woman draped in black. Kaltain raised a finger to her lips and, as though by her command, a curtain of silence fell over the hall. Elide didn't spare a moment to be relieved. She stepped toward Kaltain, trying to tell her that they must run, that they weren’t safe here. No words passed her lips— they never did, in her dreams. The Lady merely stared at her. “You can’t save them. Only I can do that now.” Elide furrowed her brow in confusion, prompting a breathy laugh from Kaltain. “Don’t you remember? Or did you forget about my sacrifice so easily?” Her lips split wide in a mockery of a smile, her mouth opening and opening until the flesh peeled away completely. Beneath, shrugging off Kaltain’s skin like an oversized coat, was a pale woman with blood red lips. “And what of my sacrifice, my darling girl? What became of me?” Elide reached for her mother, but she crumbled to ash between her fingers.

—————

Lorcan’s breath caught as he laid eyes on Elide sleeping fretfully in the narrow cabin bed. The blankets were twisted around her legs, becoming thoroughly tangled as she continued to shift in agitation. A sheen of sweat glimmered at the base of her throat. Distress was clear in her expression, despite her face being partially obscured by her disheveled hair. Lorcan had no idea what to do. He wanted to soothe her and provide comfort, but he had no experience with such things. Besides, if Elide’s resolute silence of the previous day was any indication, she would likely not welcome his presence. And yet, he found himself unable to walk away, as though some gravity beyond his control were pulling them together.

Gently, Lorcan reached down and brushed the loose strands of hair from her face, smoothing them behind her ear. His hand lingered for a moment, brushing against her cheek. He marveled at how small she seemed under his broad palms. She stirred, and he quickly retracted his fingers, scolding himself for his stupidity. How incensed would she be to wake and find him standing over her? He began to turn away.

“Stay.” The word was a single breath, so quiet that Lorcan was fairly certain it was a hallucination brought on by wishful thinking. But then it came again, soft as a prayer, “stay.” He simply stared at her. Elide didn’t even seem to be awake. It was very possible that she was speaking to someone in her dream, utterly unaware of his presence. Just as he was convincing himself of this, a hand lightly grasped his own. Her fingers were so little in his, delicate like the bones of a bird. But he knew the strength that lay there, knew she had calluses and scars to mirror his own. Lorcan softly lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed, Elide's hand still in his. He wasn’t used to holding something with such care, not with these hands that had wrought so much death. He found that he liked the change.

“Elide?” he whispered. No response. “Are you awake?” Her eyes remained closed but she spoke slowly in reply.

“Lorcan...You’re not usually here.”

“In the cabin?”

“In my dreams.”

He took a moment to absorb that blow to his male ego. Before he could think of a suitable response, Elide was tugging on his hand, trying to pull him closer. Lorcan was conflicted. She was clearly not fully awake, hovering in the limbo of her dreams. As much as he wanted nothing more than to lay down and pull her close, to see just how well the curves of her body fit with his own, it didn’t seem right to take advantage of her hazy consciousness. And in addition, there was no way his massive frame would fit on that bed with her unless she was nearly on top of him. He struggled to divert his imagination away from that particular path of thought.

When he looked back at her face, he was startled to find her eyes wide open. The gaze that met his own was clear, apparently awake. “Stay,” she repeated, and the last of his reservations disappeared. She scooted up against the wall, occupying the narrowest strip of bed possible. After some adjusting of bodies and untangling of blankets, Lorcan wound up on his back. His shoulders took up the entire width of the bed, and still he was precariously close to the edge. Elide was pressed between his body and the wall, her limbs sprawled out across him: an arm resting on his chest, a leg bent up over his own, her foot pressed between his calves. Gingerly, he slid his arm underneath her head, providing his bicep as a pillow.

“I thought you were still angry with me,” he grumbled.

“I am. I don’t think I’ll ever speak to you again, because you are a cruel bastard,” she responded sleepily, snuggling closer. Lorcan had gone past the point of confusion and was now hovering somewhere in the realm of utter bewilderment.

“I’ll find a way to manage without you.” Why could he never find the right thing to say to her?

“No, you won’t, because you promised.” She paused there for a yawn. “As mysterious as you think you are, I know that promise matters to you... that I matter to you. Why else would I dream of you after a nightmare?” She yawned, more pronounced than the first time. When she began speaking again her voice was thick with exhaustion. “I know I’m safe with you. I know that you will protect me.” And with that, she was fully asleep once more. Not a trace of the nightmare remained on her face, and her breathing was deep and untroubled.

Lorcan could only stare at the top of her head, stunned. Despite how lucid she seemed, she had clearly still been half in the grip of her dreams. But her words, her absolute confidence in him, the comfort she had found in his arms...He had never experienced this before. Receiving affection without sex or motive, soothing fear instead of creating it— this was all uncharted territory. Something in him fractured with astounding force. It was as though every place their bodies touched was cracking open and she was the light pouring in, pushing back all that darkness he had gathered throughout the centuries. He had no word to name this feeling coursing through his blood, but he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so unburdened. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and whispered “I will always keep you safe”. Then, he laid his cheek atop her hair and listened to her breathe for a long while before he fell asleep.

—————

Elide woke to the smell of cooking trout, and the soft sound of water lapping against the boat. Even through her closed lids she could see that daylight was pouring through the windows of the cabin, meaning she must have slept very late into the morning. She rolled over with a groan and reached out a hand for...for whom? Was she expecting to find someone in her bed? Sitting fully upright now, she looked around in confusion. She’d had a very strange dream. Lady Kaltain had been there, in the dungeons of Morath… she shuddered at the memory, both of the dream and its real-life inspiration. She’d vomited for days after she saw behind those iron doors, and had no desire to recollect the specifics either awake or asleep.

But then she’d left the dungeon and arrived in the ship’s cabin, where her fear-addled brain had conjured an image of the only true safety she had known for the last decade: Lorcan. A soft smile graced her face at the thought, quickly replaced by a grimace as she remembered him killing that man, and their resulting fight. He provided safety for her, perhaps, but he brought only death to those who got in his way. Her thoughts lingered on the barge owner who had once slept in this bed, dutifully cleaned the cabin windows, adorned the small table with an embroidered cloth— she bolted out of the bed and through the door, suddenly needing to be anywhere else.

Fingers gripping the ship’s railing so tight that her knuckles threatened to pop out, Elide leaned into the wind off the river water. Lorcan may well have saved both their lives by ending that man’s. An innocent bystander he may have seemed, but one likely to jump at the chance to profit from their capture. Lorcan had done it, as he seemed to do everything these days, to protect her.

That thought brought her back to her dream. It had been so real. She could recall the way his breath had stirred her hair, the feeling of his muscular chest under her fingers and his considerable bicep cushioning her head, how she had confidently declared how much he cared for her— she stopped as though her thoughts had crashed into a stone wall. She felt the blood drain from her face. She never, never spoke in her dreams.

A gentle tap on her shoulder had her shouting in surprise; Lorcan couldn’t normally sneak up on her, to his eternal annoyance, but she had been too deep in thought to notice his approach. Wordlessly, he held out a plate of trout. He betrayed no expression beyond a slight quirk of the eyebrows, likely in reaction to having a small woman scream at him in a pitch only bats and immortal demi-fae could hear. Elide studied the harsh planes of his face as she accepted the food in silence. She found nothing there to suggest she had spent the night curled in his arms. He seemed to be examining her expression as well. His lips parted, as though there was something he wanted to say, but something in her face seemed to convince him to remain quiet. With a soft shake of the head and a furrow in his brow, he turned away.

As he walked back toward the prow, she let out a sigh of relief. It had just been a dream. She felt an unexpected disappointment at the thought. It was harmless to admire his power and strength from a distance, or to feel sparks of desire as his gaze slid to her lips every damn time they spoke, but to spend the night in his arms? She watched him tirelessly propelling the boat with a long pole, his dark hair sticking to his neck in the hot midday sun. No, it had been a dream, and that’s all it would ever be...right?

Thanks for sticking around all the way till the end! It would mean a lot if you would comment and let me know what you think of my first ever fanfiction :)

#Elorcan #empire of storms #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elide x lorcan #throne of glass #elorcan fanfiction #elorcan ff #throne of glass ff

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strawbunniiee · 3 years

Text

A Girl and a Ghost Ch 5. Precious Rose

SOOOO this one is a bit lengthy!! there’s a bit of blood, a lil language, so fair warning! oh yeah and HEHEHE SPOILER ALERT THERE’S SOME TASTY PHANTOMEACH MWAHAHAHHAA

i had a LOT of fun writing the phantom and peach fluff hehehe ;)

dont worry!! this definitely won’t be the last chapter either, there’s still gonna be more of my cheesy fic sjfndkfd

hope you enjoy!! @salamifuposey @monsterbride99 just letting these lovely hooman beans know that this chapter exists!!

Jawaii had her arms raised, ready to slice King Boo to ribbons, but the king blasted her back into a wall.

Jawaii had the wind knocked out of her lungs as she slid to the floor.

Phantom rushed to Jawaii's side, picking up her petite body. His eyes became a deep, dark blood red as he shot a murderous glare at King Boo.

"She didn't even stand a chance." he smirked.

Phantom charged a blast of blue fire in his palm. "DIE!" he screamed, hurling it at the king with all of his might.

He had attempted to avoid it, but he wasn't fast enough. The ball engulfed him in flames as he screamed.

The king flung a fireball from his cracked crown, but due to his crown being damaged, it spiraled out of control, which hit Phantom in the process but also set the attic ablaze. He gasped and grabbed Peach's body.

Jawaii regained her breath and jumped off of Phantom.

"JAWAII, NO!"

She didn't listen, instead she ran to King Boo and aimed to tackle him. She phased right through him and onto the floor. This just made him guffaw.

"YOU IDIOT! OH, YOU MORONS JUST MAKE ME LAUGH!"

Phantom began to inhale, gathering air in his body to let out the loudest, most powerful opera scream he had ever sung.

King Boo saw this as an opportunity to take Peach back from Phantom. The ghost Rabbid glanced over at Jawaii in panic, as if begging her to do something.

Jawaii leaped up while the king was distracted and stabbed him, taking great effort to make it as painful as possible for him. It cut open his skin, creating a massive gash on the side of his face, bleeding out a strange blood-like substance, perhaps ectoplasm.

The king let out a monstrous howl as he fell over onto the floor screaming, his hands over the gash.

Then, Phantom finally let out his scream, after inhaling so much air he felt like he was about to explode. It was a force so strong, so powerful that it blew a massive hole in the attic, blowing the bleeding king far away, all the way to the swamps in Spooky Trails.

Both of their ears rung from the noise.

Peach began to slowly wake up. Phantom picked up Jawaii and burst out of the hole in the manor, taking the three of them away.

———

Peach screamed when she fully woke up.

"Wh-where am I? Who are you? ...Oh. Mr. Tom?... what happened?" the princess sputtered out, deeply confused by what was happening. "All I remember is... King Boo taking me away, and then... nothing. And... who's the little girl?"

Phantom's face turned red and his eyes widened as he shyly looked away, blushing. "Ah, w-well... Princess, it's a rather complicated st-story, you see,—"

"Phantom, why don't you and I tell her what happened together? Maybe it'll be a lot easier that way!" Jawaii chimed in cheerfully.

Phantom smiled at Jawaii. "I suppose you're quite right!"

The two happily retold Peach everything that had happened, complete with how the two became friends, their adventure in Spooky Trails, leading all the way up to them rescuing her from King Boo.

"Oh my goodness, what a story! It sounds very scary but exciting at the same time! I'm glad that you're safe and sound, though!" beamed Peach.

Phantom blushed yet again. "Oh, why thank you dear Princess! I'm quite happy you went on unscathed as well."

"Hang on a sec, you know this lady Phantom? She seems very nice!" asked Jawaii.

"O-oh, yes yes! I do know her. We're, erm, friends." Phantom said quickly.

Jawaii squinted suspiciously at him. "You seem super awkward in front of her. Do you have a crush on her or somethin'?"

Phantom's face was a bright red tomato at this point. "N-no, that's preposterous, o-of course not! Why, no male and female can be t-together without people believing that they are lovers!"

Peach giggled a bit. Jawaii grinned mischievously.

"You know, Jawaii has a point. Do you have a crush on me..?" asked Peach.

"...N-no, it's just hot out here. I act a b-bit strangely when it's scorching hot like this!" It was actually quite cold that morning, contrary to Phantom's statement. "Oh, and would you look at th-that, we're here already!"

They had made it to the silent castle in the early hours of the morning. The sun had not even come up yet, still pitch black and silent. Phantom set Peach and Jawaii down gently.

"...Thank you so much for saving me from King Boo, Tom." Peach gave Phantom a gentle kiss on the cheek. His face violently blushed as he had a look of sheer surprise on his face, his jaw hanging open. Jawaii couldn't help but snicker at the look on Phantom's face.

"I... oh my! I wasn't e-expecting that, my princess." Phantom stammered.

Peach simply just smiled. "Would you like me to get you a room to stay in for the rest of the night? You two must be very exhausted after your dangerous adventure together!"

"That would be very much appreciated!"

"Oh... Jawaii? Should I tell your parents where you are...?" asked Peach, concerned.

Oh crud, I totally FORGOT about that. thought Jawaii.

"Uhhhhh... I'm sure they're fine! I'll just come back when the sun's up!"

"All right, then. I'll be right back in just a moment!" Peach walked off.

Phantom went silent.

"Hey uh... now that she isn't here... do you actually have a crush on her?" asked Jawaii.

Phantom looked around and whispered in Jawaii's ear. "To be completely honest, yes. I do. She's the most beautiful, kind woman I have ever met... and thanks to King Boo bringing back the memories of my past life, I know that I had spent my past life attempting to get her to notice me. But it had resulted in my demise."

"First of all, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, no shit Sherlock, for a theater nerd you're a TERRIBLE liar y'know." she teased lightheartedly. "Second of all, ouch... that really sucks. But hey! In this life you befriended her!"

Phantom sighed. "I wish so dearly that we could be together. I tried so hard in my past life, I sacrificed so much to get her to notice me... but that red capped demon had gotten in the way countless times. And worst of all... he and Peach are together."

Phantom began to softly sob, his hands over his face in despair. Jawaii slowly walked over and gave him a hug.

"Aw... I'm so sorry about that... But my mom says it's not good to bottle up emotions. Maybe you should tell her how you feel..?" she suggested.

Phantom just stared in silence for a few moments before he finally responded. "...Perhaps."

"Maybe I could help you with it!"

"...No, i-it's best for me to simply just... tell her. I've known her for quite a while now, but I've mostly been too nervous to do as much as speak to her."

Jawaii hugged him again, even tighter than the last time. "I'm here for you, best friend." she smiled.

Phantom hugged back. "...Thank you, Jawaii."

After a few minutes, Peach came back in to tell them that their room was ready.

"Sorry about the wait! We had a few issues... come on in, it's much comfier in here than it is out there. It's so cold out." she said.

"Oh! You're all right, Princess."

Peach escorted the two into the castle and into their room. Just like outside, the castle was very dark. It had little to no light other than the light of the stars and moon softly shining through the windows.

When they arrived, Peach opened the door. The room was very tidy and had very expensive looking furnishings, and two extremely fluffy beds with plentiful amounts of pillows and blankets. Jawaii gasped and immediately began to jump on the bed. Phantom and Peach laughed a bit at Jawaii's antics.

"Well, sweet dreams you two. You both deserve it after the adventure you've had tonight! And thank you both again for saving me... that was such a terrifying experience. No matter how many times I get kidnapped, it's always so scary."

She smiled and blew them both kisses. Phantom blushed.

"Ah... you're welcome, Peach. Bonne nuit."

Peach smiled and closed the door. She went back off to bed happily.

"What the shit did you say to her? Bun... bon-nue. What?" Jawaii asked, deeply confused.

Phantom quietly chuckled. "Bonne nuit. It's French for good night."

"The heck's a French?"

"Heh heh. Perhaps I shouldn't be laughing, for you're an alien child. You don't know everything about Earth and that's understandable!"

"No, it's okay. I like to make people laugh. 'Cuz it means I made them happy!" replied Jawaii.

Phantom smiled at Jawaii once more. "We should get some rest, my child. We've had a very long day. Bonne nuit, Jawaii." He laughed a bit at his own joke.

Jawaii smiled. "Nighty night, Phantom." She yawned and stretched and sprawled out on her bed, quickly falling asleep within a matter of minutes.

Phantom, however, lay awake in his bed, thinking about what Jawaii had told him to do. He tossed and turned, pondering his decision. His heart throbbed, wondering what would happen.

Then, he decided.

He was going to tell her tonight. He had figured that he may as well get it over with now.

He nervously got out of bed and quietly phased through the walls to get to Peach's bedroom, where she had still laid awake. She was slightly startled by Phantom seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Oh! Tom? Is there... something you need?" she asked

"Well... there is something I must tell you. I've hidden it from you for so long... because I was afraid of being rejected, I suppose." he admitted.

"Oh... Well, what is it?"

"I know that you are already taken... b-but..." Phantom covered his blushing face with his hands, and forced himself to finally choke out the words.

"I l-love you."

He knew that this was the end. She was going to kick him out of her castle... or far worse.

But her response shocked him down to his very gramophone.

"Well... if I'm completely honest, I have feelings for you too. That peck on the cheek earlier... was something I've wanted to do for a long time." she smiled and looked away a bit.

Phantom stared dumbfounded at her. He couldn't believe it. "B-b-but, you— and M-Mario—" he stammered.

"Oh, that's just a rumor that goes around... everybody seems to think that! He's still a very close friend of mine, and I'm so glad he's saved me so many times."

"Erm... speaking of that... King Boo told me something about myself that not even I had known. I... I was a human once. I wanted so badly for you to notice me... each time you were kidnapped, I always attempted to save you... but my attempts were futile, for Mario always saved you before I ever could. But one day, King Boo trapped you in a painting... and for the first time, I had arrived in time to save you. Unfortunately, he had killed me and sealed my soul inside a gramophone. I had forgotten about this previous life... until he had told me. Then all of the memories rushed inside me. Saving you had felt... like I had finally fulfilled my goal." he explained.

"...Actually... now that I think of it, I do remember a handsome young man who had clothes not different than yours who had come to save me from him. I remember his beautiful deep voice... with that accent... it was your voice! Your voice was always so familiar to me...but I could never figure out where I heard it."

Phantom's face turned red from the complements. "P-princess, please stop flattering me..."

She giggled. "You haven't become any less handsome than you were as a human, you know."

Before Phantom could respond, she kissed him again. This time, on the lips.

The two kissed under the pale morning moonlight shimmering down into the room.

#tw blood #jawaiis cheesy fics #a girl and a ghost #jawaii #phantom x peach #phantomeach #phantom of the bwahpera #princess peach #king boo #mario #super mario #mario + rabbids kingdom battle #mario rabbids #mario + rabbids #fanfic #fanfiction

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