#if i ever find myself in a relationship as red-threaded as this you better believe it's all a delusion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

I loved the Ashe, Sylvain, and Hilda modern-day HCs. So….can I ask for….Marianne, Dima, and Claude now? They’re so so good.

Here's a quick list of the places I've touched on ModernAU stuff with these characters before, for anyone who's interested! General Modern HCs (Dimitri) W/ insecure Reader (Claude, Dimitri) W/ insecure Reader (Marianne) Soft HCs (Dimitri)

I'll try not to repeat myself too much, but the SFW portion might be a little sparse because I've written a good deal of my thoughts on that already :3

Marianne, Dimitri, Claude x GN Reader

Modern/College AU headcanons

SFW (not sfw under the cut)

Marianne:

- Definitely a veterinary student who has an incredible, intuitive way with animals. One of those "gets along with animals better than people" types. As a result, many others in her classes see her as aloof or difficult to talk to. Fortunately, when Hilda drags her to a party one night, you notice her keeping to herself and come to make casual conversation. It takes a bit for her to open up, but she's soon grateful for pleasant, relaxing company in the midst of the loud chaos.

- She needs a good amount of reassurance in a relationship, as she's so convinced you could do better. Marianne is totally the type to apologize for not being good enough for you, then apologize for bringing it up, then apologize for apologizing. But her love and admiration for you are so very clear. She'll shyly take your hand in hers, and just the way she looks at you, it's like you're every star and every sunset she's ever seen.

- Marianne spends some of her free time volunteering at a local animal shelter, and one of your earlier dates would involve her introducing you to some of the animals in her care. Here, it's like you see a completely different side of her- she's so much more confident and firm when she speaks to the animals, and she smiles so brightly and laughs adorably as she watches you attempt to make a good impression on them.

Dimitri:

- We've chatted about Modern! Dimitri a good deal so far- but I will double down here on the fact that, while he's outwardly extremely intimidating to your friends when you first start dating, you know (and they learn) that he's absolute Malewife material.

- He loves sitting on video calls with you and just staring at your adorable, lovely face. He's an excellent listener, and will gladly hear about your entire day from start to finish, even if you insist it was nothing special. He's just so soothed by your voice, and the chance to see you. While he's honestly not very good at social media in general, he does have a couple hundred pictures of you saved. Not to post anywhere, just to look back at with a goofy grin on his face.

Claude:

- Claude is the guy on campus that everyone likes, plenty of people want, but no one can really nail down. He seems to know everyone, but he's only actually close to a few good friends, and for the longest time, even they assume that he's the "doesn't believe in serious dating" type. It starts much the same with you- he figures you're interesting and cute as hell, so he may as well spend some time having fun and getting to know you. And then... the feels TM creep in.

- You'll be caught up in a sort of... friendly flirtation with him for a while. The kind where it would be easy to play off all of the corny innuendos and knowing glances as "just kidding around." Then, one night, after a long group study session or just lazing around with drinks and games with his friends, he offers to walk you back to your dorm. When you get caught in a sudden downpour and have to duck under the nearest building's awning for shelter, he gives you a strange lingering look that's so much heavier than any you've seen. And without a word, he leans down to kiss you. When you part, he's wearing a slanted smile, but he's fidgeting a bit when he says, "Hey, uh, Y/N. I wanna be with you- for real. So uh... how 'bout it?"

- Claude is just the most fun boyfriend ever. He's got an active and curious mind, so he's always game to try anything you're interested in, and you'll never be at a loss for date ideas. He's the kind who gets okay grades, though nothing incredible, but his brilliance shines in how he latches on to new information, turning a topic around in his mind until he's seen it from every angle. It's especially charming when he asks to hear about your interests or areas of expertise- he asks all the right questions and the conversation becomes lively just about instantly.

NSFW 18 + v

Marianne:

- You're definitely her first sexual partner (she hasn't even dated seriously until you), and she's going to take a long time to get comfortable freely exploring the physical side of a relationship. She's a big cuddler, once you've assured her that you like it too- she finds it immensely soothing to rest her head on your shoulder or on your chest, just listening to your breathing and feeling you warm against her. But as for sexual affection, she'll start slow, testing things by letting her gentle hands tentatively wander just a little further than before, or deepening your kiss a little more than usual.

- Best practice with Marianne is to let her be the one to suggest or initiate things, but to respond enthusiastically when she does so she knows you're happy with it and you want her as much as she wants you. Your approval and encouragement fills her with warmth she's never felt before, and a sense of bold desire she hadn't even known she was capable of. There's plenty of communication with her- there has to be -but in a way, that becomes its own sort of eroticism. Soft murmurs of, "is this okay?", "does that feel good?", or "can you take more?" mix in with affirmative sighs and moans, turning the negotiation of comfort into a wonderful, slowly escalating path towards satisfaction.

- She's absolutely mortified by the idea of sexting or sending nudes, but if she sends you an outfit she's considering and reply with a coy "You look amazing- can't wait to take that off of you" (honestly the cheesier the better with the pickup lines- being too smooth would intimidate her)- she'll only respond with a single blushing emoji, but you bet she'll be wearing that outfit to your next date.

Dimitri:

- Everyone on campus, including your friends/roomates see Dimitri as such a pure cinnamon roll that you might be surprised to learn he has a rather healthy sex drive underneath all of that sweetness and affection. Granted, he's definitely most likely to desire you when he feels emotionally close to you- but that won't stop him from fucking you nice and deep until your bed creaks. The first time someone overhears you practically screaming out his name, rumors start spreading that your ever-devoted Malewife is actually legendary in bed. It's mostly a raunchy joke, but as far as you're concerned, they're not exactly wrong.

- He's too nervous to actually save any of the spicy pics you've sent him to his phone, but that doesn't stop him from regularly scrolling back through your message threads to find them. Masturbating to porn is fine and good, but when he can look at you biting your lip as you show off your body to him, he pumps his cock and bucks his hips against his hand until he cums far harder than he's used to. Dimitri especially gets a thrill out of the implied part of this- the fact that you wanted to flaunt yourself to him like this and made sure that he would linger on the sight of you.

- A very fun game is to comment or imply something about how good Dimitri fucks you while you're hanging out with his friends. He stammers and turns bright red when you mention how, "Oh don't you worry, Dimitri keeps me nice and satisfied, don't you babe?" with your eyebrows quirked playfully. His buddies nudge him and laugh, and as timid as he appears about it, he'll need you as soon as you're alone together, and he'll hold you extra close and pound into you a little harder than usual.

Claude:

- Alright. Claude is hot, and Claude knows he's hot, and he has no problem using this to his advantage. He'll absolutely send you gym selfies, or raunchy messages when he knows you're with friends or family. During minor disagreements or when you're pretending to be mad at him, he'll slip an arm around your waist and nibble at your ear, whispering, "C'mon babe, don't be like that..." before pulling you close and kissing you until you can't think straight.

- He absolutely doesn't care if people overhear you- in fact, he'll tease you about it, murmuring in your ear that you can't keep moaning for him like that or you'll be heard. But the fact that he's fucking into you harder and deeper as he says it tells you clearly that he wants you to cry out for him. In general, he's pretty shameless about your shared sex life if you allow him to be. He'll practically strut out of your room to clean up in just his boxers, not caring a bit if your roommates get an eyeful. He's handsy in public as well (again, depending on your comfort with it), and will absolutely grab a handful of your ass while you're on a date together, or trail his hand up your thigh during a movie.

- Claude is adventurous and open minded about sex in general, as I've mentioned a couple times. Hell, he'll even send you a porn clip or a bit of smut, along with a brief "we should try this ;)"- and he obviously loves when you do the same for him. He sees no reason to be shy with his partner about your mutual pleasure. Communicating your preferences will make sure you both enjoy yourselves, and the process of even talking about it can be pretty hot on its own.

#marianne von edmund #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von riegan #marianne x reader #dimitri x reader #claude x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #feh #fire emblem headcanons #modern au #fluff and smut #fire emblem x reader #x reader

233 notes · View notes

vanillann · 3 years

Text

this town (s.w.)

a/n: first ever sam fic and i lowkey really like it

sam wilson x gender neutral reader

word count:

sam wilson masterlist

I dropped my bag in the passager seat as I raced to Sarah’s side, letting my hands grab the box that was slowly slipping from the top of the pile in her hands.

“Oh thank God- (Y/N)!”

I smiled, taking my place beside Sarah as we walked to an open table that had a few men from the docks I remembered from years of coming by.

“You know, gravity is still a thing, and what you were trying to do is damn near impossible,” I placed the box on the table and let my arms wrap around her shoulders tightly.

“Don’t you go talking about impossible, you managed to keep this place in check for five years with no help,” Sarah pulled back, taking my face in her hands while she quickly looked me over. I rolled my eyes but felt the pride swell in my chest.

The five years within the blip was hard, very clearly, but I and two other boat owners managed to keep the place in tack until everyone came back from God knows where.

“I’ve missed you.”

Sarah smiled, her eyes twinkling in the sunlight while it beat down on us in the Louisiana air. It would’ve close to perfect if it wasn’t for the strong scent of fish and men yelling over boats, but it was just like it had always been. My family debating with the Wilson’s over who made better sweet tea while Sam and I would throw sweet potatoes at one another, it wasn’t a fun game but a game nonetheless.

“I’ve missed you more,” Sarah pulled me back once more before the roar of an engine dragged us from our sweet moment. I looked up, seeing the tail lights of a truck I haven’t seen in years flash us as it came down the dirt path.

“Sam’s here?”

“Apparently,” Sarah placed a hand on her hip, her sisterly glare still in tack after all these years as Sam’s truck parked and the door swung open.

I wasn’t prepared to see him in all his ‘superhero’ glory, but I suppose I never would be as his smile was brighter than ever. He hugged an old family friend, his arms wrapping around them like a warm blanket on a cold evening and I wondered how I haven’t thought about him in so long. How had I forgotten his remarks and his checky little laugh?

“There she is!”

I considered running around the tent that had been set up and hiding until I could safely run to my car but I heard one of Sarah’s boys yell out my name and suddenly most eyes were on me.

“There is my favorite boy!”

I leaned down to hug him, I wanted to run and hide but I wasn’t going to ignore him, the price of love.

“(Y/N)?”

I cringed, holding on to the boy in front of me a little tighter before he let go running to his uncle. A goofy smile was on his face as to he almost fell running but Sam only smiled, looking me over once, before his nephew gained his attention.

I could count it outright, make a run for it maybe and never have to see the boy how I almost waited for once he joins the Air Force.

“Will you help me?”

I turned around, an older man struggling with some boxes and he couldn’t move them all. I sighed, walking over with my best smiling and sliding the box with the older man while we made it to his ship. Once we were done he gave me a large smile and handed me a five-dollar bill, when I tried to give it back he refused.

I spun on my heels, frowning when I spotted Sam walking in my direction.

I could’ve made a run for it, I know I could’ve made it.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same thing, Sam,” his name felt foreign on my tongue, let a broken promise that I refused to speak of, that’s exactly what he was.

“Well, I came to see Sarah!”

He still had the gentle charisma he had as a kid, his goofy bright smile that ran in the family, and his perfect brown eyes you never want to stop looking into.

“Well, great minds think alike,” I rocked back and front, wondering how we went from everything to nothing without barely a letter in between.

“Yeah, yeah I suppose.”

The awkward silence felt like too much as I watched his brows crease and his eye scans me up and down like an unknown force. Is this really what we had become?

“Still living in the farmhouse?”

“No, I got my own place now,” I wondered did I mention it wasn’t far from Sarah’s place so I could help out with the kids, but when his name was being called I decided not to say a word.

“Coming! Are you bust tonight?” Sam’s finger almost hit my chest as he waited, his leg bouncing, for my answer.

“Y-yeah-”

“Great, let’s get dinner!”

I didn’t have time to come up with a sad excuse before he was jogging away, falling into conversation with his sister as if nothing had ever happened to begin with. As if he didn’t asl his high school sweetheart to dinner years later.

I should’ve stayed home.

I walked through the door of the old restaurant, Sam didn’t have to tell me where he wanted to eat as it was ‘our place’ when we were kids. I spotted him in a booth not far from the large window, a dark blue turtle neck that made him look more handsome than I ever remembered him.

I slowly went around tables and chairs, careful not to fall as I found my way to the other side of him. As soon as his head lifted I knew I was done for it, the glitter in his brown eyes and his perfect smile was the same it had always been.

“You came,” his voice was light and airy as he watched me slip in across from him, his hand almost reaching across the table but he stopped and grabbed a napkin instead.

“You know I wouldn’t pass up free food.”

“Who said it was free?”

I felt the laugh boil over, the carefree demeanor r he always had run through me easily as he watched me like old times.

“So, how’s everything been here? I haven’t seen you since,” his words trailed off and we both knew what he was going to say.

The Air Force ripped our relationship apart before we even realized it had even begun, but I suppose it always seems to go that way.

“Been good, the blip was hard on everyone but I managed to pull it off,” I played with a loose thread, my fingers finding safety in the repeating motions.

“Yeah, yeah I get it.”

I was scared the silence would come back, the awkward pain of watching someone who knew me inside and out forget how to even speak to me.

“I order you a lemonade, I know it was always your favorite.”

Suddenly I was in junior year, laughing with Sam about my math grade and the joke Sam made with the football team. How could he do it?

“Still is, I’ve never been good with change.”

“Oh I know, trust me,” he wiggled his eyebrows in my direction as the waitress left the drinks on the table and hurried off, most likely to ask her co-workers if that who she thought it was.

“So, Avenger?”

“Don’t start with him,” he rolled his eyes, the straw stuck between his lips as he gave me a pleading look.

“I thought you were staying in D.C. and suddenly your sister is calling me that you’re on T.V.!”

“When Cap says help, you help,” he set his drink beside mine, his head resting on his shoulder and his eyes burned into my skin.

“I suppose,” I trailed off, smiling when I noticed him smirking under his arm.

“What now?”

“Remember when I told you we have something special?”

I felt like a stuttering mess and I search from the right word, trying to figure out where to go from here. How do I turn back now?

“Yeah, um, freshman year,” I took the straw between my teeth and let the cold lemonade rush down my throat that was suddenly dry.

“I was really bold back them, huh?”

“Yeah, never knew when to shut up,” I smirked with the straw between my lips as he rolled his eyes. Did anything ever change? Was I still ‘his girl’ or was I just a girl?

“I can’t believe you actually agreed, I ran into Sarah’s room after and just talked about you for hours.”

My heart was slamming against my chest, the feeling that I felt as a kid was definitely still there as he smiled at me with this wondrous look in his eye.

“Sarah probably wanted to kill you.”

“Nah, she loved it when I gushed about you. Called us soulmates,” he shrugged, waiting for me to fill in after but I had no words anymore.

“Too bad, huh?”

“What’s too bad?” Sam’s arms reached across the table, his fingers inches from mine as he looked up from under his eyelashes at me.

“We weren’t,” I paused, “Soulmates I mean.”

Silence, that’s all I heard as the waitress came back and placed two plates in front of us. I opened my mouth, ready to tell her we hadn’t ordered, but I was left speechless as I looked down at the place.

A plate of Mac and Cheese sat in front of me, just like when Sam would make me when I was sad in high school. He could never make anything else and I never had the heart to tell him I wasn’t a huge fan, but by graduation, it was my comfort food.

“Mac and Cheese?”

The waitress was skipping away, my doubt following her as I looked up to Sam’s face. His eyes were wide as they waited for me, his nerves clear as day.

“I know how much you liked it-”

“I didn’t,” I felt my smile slowly find its way to my lips, “not until you made it for me.”

“Really? You let me make you mac and cheese all that time and you didn’t even like it?’

I shrugged, smiling like a psycho as I waited to find the right words. I wasn’t letting him walk out of this restaurant without me this time.

“You must have really loved me.”

“I do,” I finally looked him directly in the eye, surprise when the gentle sparkle of them made me sink farther into the seat.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I grabbed my fork, smiling when his hand laid on top of mine.

“Should’ve told me before I made a fool of myself.”

“You’d still do that somehow.”

Bless this town for bringing him back to me.

join the taglist!!

leave a request!!

permanent taglist:

@kittykylax @itstaylorcale @head-over-heart @marvel-rhapsody @accioxtina @always-spaced-out @carnations-red @onetoomanyfilms @suranne-doesstuff @fandomxreaders @succulentmom @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

marvel taglist:

@lovinlikeloki @zizzlekwum @waywardwifey @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @peterssweetpea @winchestersgirl222 @fandom-life-12 @kiss-themoongoodbye @procrastinatingsapphictrash

(if your name is crossed out it wouldn’t let me tag you)

#sam wilson imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x you #falcon x reader #falcon x you #marvel x reader #tfatws x reader

92 notes · View notes

lucifersforkedtongue993 · 3 years

Text

Manicure 💅 - RE8 Drabble

Lady Dimitrescu x Gender Neutral! Reader

SFW -ish

Here you go @witchygoddess666 hope you like it!

Friends to lovers 💕

You lived in a small cottage on the edge of the village, and you were able to stay out of the matters of Mother Miranda, as well as her children. For the most part, that is. Over the past year you had built up a bit of a rapport with Lady Dimitrescu, or Alcina as she insisted you call her.

You were quite intimidated by her at first, not because of her height necessarily (although that was a factor), but more because of her beauty and intelligence. She was the most poised woman you had ever seen. You just didn't see how you could possibly measure up.

You had written off any romantic notions involving you two a while back. You were happy just sit and listen to her talk about her daughters, or allow her to vent guilt-free about the pressures she was under from Miranda.

You weren't surprised when you heard your phone ring in the early evening. It had been obvious that something had been on Alcina's mind all week, but you didn't want to push her. It always was better to wait for her to come to you with her troubles.

You take a deep breath before answering, "Hiiiii, Alcina," you drawl out playfully, "what can I do for you on this fine Thursday evening."

"Oh hello dear (y/n), how ever did you know it was me?" Alcina calls back from the other end, a bit surprised.

"Well who else would be calling me? It's not like I have a particularly close relationship with anyone in the village." You explain before continuing, "Also, I have caller ID. So there's that." You chuckle.

"Oh yes, silly me. I forget that not everyone lives in a castle full of antiquities. I must inquire the Duke about getting one of those mobile phones." Alcina answers thoughtfully. "Anyways, I was calling on you to ask if you would like to spend some time with me this evening? I have something I could use your help with..." she trails off.

"Of course! I will be right over!" You answer, maybe a bit too enthusiastically.

"Alright dear, come find me in the lounge when you arrive at the castle." She says, and you can hear here hang up with a click.

With that you ran to your bathroom, surveying your appearance and trying to look your best. You looked down at your clothes, and then to your full hamper. This'll have to do, you think to yourself.

The trip up to the castle passed quite quickly. Before you knew it you were pushing open the large doors, making your way to the parlor.

You spotted her immediately. She was sat on a lounge chair in her dressing gown, complete with the silk robe, wine glass in hand. She was stunning. You took a second just to look at her. You watched her long neck as she swallowed her drink, pale skin catching the soft light of the chandelier.

Get it together! You mentally shout at yourself. You clear your throat, catching Alcina's attention, her face lighting up when her eyes met yours.

"Hello my darling (y/n), I must admit I didn't expect you quite so soon!" She greets you with a smile.

You smile back sheepishly before answering, "Oh you know I just thought if you needed help, I shouldn't keep you waiting." You rubbed the back of your neck self-consciously avoiding her gaze. You could feel your cheeks heating up in slight embarrassment.

"So what do you need done? A few bulbs need changing in the chandelier?" You ask, looking up to the ceiling.

"Oh no, nothing like that dear. It's just, my daughters are out for the night, and I don't have anyone to paint my nails. I haven't done them myself in ages, and didn't want to see the end result of my lack of recent practice. I thought I could use your steady hands in their stead." Alcina rises from her chair at to her full height. Even in bare feet she towers over you. She walks over to the vanity and pulls out a deep red polish from the top drawer.

She sits back down, crossing her legs, handing you the bottle of polish, and presenting her long fingers to you. Before you were 10 polish-free, perfectly shaped oval nails.

You look up at her, seeing a gentle, encouraging smile on her face. You carefully roll up her delicate sleeves, blood pooling in your face as you accidentally brush your fingers against the smooth skin of her arm.

You give her a look of apology, but she doesn't look bothered, in fact, it seems like she likes the feeling of your skin on hers. At least, that's what the coy smile on her face leads you to believe.

You take her cool, smooth hand in your own much smaller one, separating out her fingers. You start out on her thumb nail, careful not to push the little brush too far back into her cuticle. You make fluid strokes down the nail, blowing on the wet polish when you finish your coat. You hear a light gasp from Alcina, and you look up, thinking you might have done something wrong.

Instead you see her with her lips slightly parted, flushed cheeks, looking at you with what looked suspiciously like desire. It deepened into something else, like admiration, or maybe even love. There was a softness in her eyes that you had never seen before.

No, you had to be imagining it. You shook off your thoughts and continued on, painting one nail after another, gently blowing on each one to try and set the polish.

As you placed Alcina's freshly painted hands flat on the table, she does something that surprises you. Before you even know what's happening, she's up out of her seat, leaning over the table and attaching her lips to yours. After a moment of shock you respond, and she moans lowly as you start kissing her back.

Her hands still placed firmly on the table, you thread your fingers through her dark hair, pulling her upper body further into yours, deepening the kiss.

Alcina's tongue slips into your mouth, massaging yours. You eventually pull away, very aware that you need to breathe. It takes you a minute to process what just happened, so you just stand there, looking at Alcina's smeared lipstick, knowing that your own face was covered in it.

You finally break the silence, "If you wanted to kiss me Alcina, all you had to was ask."

"Oh love, I want to do a lot more than kiss you, just wait until my nails are dry." She says, bewitching you with her hooded eyes.

You pick up and read the bottle, "Sets in five minutes" it says.

You look up at Alcina, showing her the label. "Only about a minute left." You tell her with a shit-eating grin.

#alcina demitriscu #lady dimitriscu x reader #gender neutral reader #resident evil village #RE8 drabble #reader insert #alcina dimitriscu x reader #sfw

89 notes · View notes

avengershumanresources · 3 years

Text

blood 2 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut (like, wayyy down the line), adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 1 - part 3

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

2 - a night at the pub

You parted from Stephen the moment you saw Natalia and James in the crowd at the pub. They were sipping from large beer steins, listening to a bard sing a sorrowful song about the death of the great Iron Defender.

When the music ended and the pub applauded, the entertainer switched to something more upbeat to soothe the mood.

“A bit sentimental for you two, isn’t it?” you asked, pulling back your cloak. Stephen had transfigured your overbearing mourning garb into something that would better fit in the village.

“How on earth did you slip out tonight?” James asked in surprise, brows raised to his hairline. “I would’ve though t they’d have had you under lock and key.”

“Everyone’s a bit... distracted, believe it or not,” you replied coolly, taking a seat at their table toward the back of the room.

“So we hear,” Natalia leaned in. “Any news of the next king? I have a wager with the barkeep’s wife.”

“Anthony has an uncle who still lives,” Stephen supplied, taking a seat at your side. “Or so my companions informed me. Until Peter is of age, he would be the presumptive heir.”

“What do we know about him?” Natalia asked quietly, lowering her head conspiratorially.

“Nothing,” you replied with a long sigh. “He’s been at the winter palace my whole life.”

“Nothing suspicious about that,” James shrugged and took a swallow of his drink. “Nat, what do ya think about Asgard this time of year?”

“Stop up James,” the redhead nudged her companion and returned her attention to you and Stephen. “And if he doesn’t give up the job in six months?”

“He is removed,” Stephen replied bluntly.

“Yikes, you’re scary, did you know that?” James murmured.

“I’ve been told,” the sorcerer grunted, flagging down a barmaid for a drink. He could already tell it was going to be a long night.

“Don’t forget, you owe me,” you reminded him.

“Lose a bet?” Natalia asked in amusement, eye rating between the duo.

“I caught him enchanting my tea without permission,” you replied.

“Uh oh, broke the one rule,” Natalia mused, watching Strange for a reaction.

“It was a protection spell, hardly worth mentioning, I cast them over the princess all the time,” he snorted under his breath.

“All the time?” James asked in a voice low enough that only Stephen could hear.

“That’s dangerous conjecture, Barnes,” Stephen warned. “My responsibilities include keeping my student, who happens to be the princess, safe.”

“If we were being honest, if I were kidnapped or traded away, it wouldn’t do much to the kingdom,” you reasoned, eagerly grabbing the first mug of ale before Stephen could take a sip. He waved a hand over the drink, ensuring it hadn’t been poisoned, before you took a long swallow. “Peter is the one who has to stay safe. Who knows where we’d be without a true heir?”

“You know that’s ridiculous,” Nat snorted. “Gods, you’re so dramatic sometimes.”

“My father’s funeral was today, give me a little sympathy,” you huffed in response, taking another swig of your drink.

“To King Anthony,” James stood up, his voice bellowing through the pub. You ducked your head down into Stephen’s shoulder while onlookers cheered and joined in the toast. “May he rest in peace!”

The pub shouted in response, with steins clinking against one another and another song starting up.

“We’re trying to draw attention away from the princess, you oaf,” Natalia muttered tersely toward James.

“Who would be looking for her here?” the brunette assassin shrugged. “Besides, no one would be able to slip past the three of us.”

Stephen snorted under his breath, giving the room a quick glance to ensure any unwanted attention hadn’t been drawn toward them. James did have a point. Someone in hiding would seldom encourage a room to drink.

Besides, he looked over at you laughing over something Natalia had said, you were genuinely smiling for the first time in weeks. The risk was worth a little relief.

He nursed at his drink while you signaled for another round for yourself and your friends. Stephen did well to avoid becoming drunk in your presence, mostly for your protection, but also as a means of avoiding embarrassing himself in front of you.

The last thing he needed was you armed with an artillery of teasing that he couldn’t even recall.

As the booze flowed and the music picked up, James grabbed your hand and pulled you to the center of the room, dancing with some of the villagers to the upbeat song.

Stephen watched, almost transfixed by the way you spun and twirled so lightheartedly to the sounds. As if you hadn’t a care in the world, and your life was back to the simpler time when he’d first met you.

“You’re drooling a little,” Natalia chuckled over his shoulder.

Stephen’s head whipped around, unconsciously wiping at his mouth before scowling at the nosy redhead.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, doing his best to keep his composure under her hard gaze.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed of,” she hummed, eyes falling where you and James continued your antics. “You’ve seen the man I’ve dedicated myself to.”

“You know the oaths I have to take,” he murmured.

“Aren’t you the one in charge of said oaths?” she challenged coyly. “I’d never understood your antiquated ways. I would argue that loving another gives you more reason to stay dedicated to your craft.”

She had a point, Stephen reasoned to himself. The ways he’d worked to ensure your protection, the kingdom’s protection, and the advancement of his knowledge at your urging was beyond any work he’d done on his own at Kamar-Tai.

Still, the distractions. The liabilities.

By the Vishanti, if an enemy were to ever get their hands on you… oaths be damned. He’d burn the world to the ground to ensure your safety, and that was the problem.

“She’s going to marry a prince, and have kings and queens as babies,” Stephen replied coolly. "We have our roles and our duties.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind giving her a few babies,” Natalia smirked up at him, laughing when his face went as scarlet as her hair.

“Regardless,” his voice cracked slightly, adding even more to the embarrassment when Natalia quirked a brow. “I would need permission from the king to consider breaking my oaths and wedding a princess.”

“Oh, you’d marry her? That’s a new development,” she replied, eyes falling behind him while you and James returned.

“I’m going to need another ale,” you complained, staring down the empty mug after chugging down your second drink.

“You’re going to need to watch how much you drink,” Stephen replied. “Remember last time. The hungover elixir only works so well.”

“You have a hangover elixir?” James asked. “Gods, I’d murder a man for one of those. Maybe it’s time I go to Kamar-Taj. Find my true purpose.”

“Don’t look at me,” Stephen held up a hand. “Wong is the one who brews it. He claims it’s an old family recipe.”

“Might have to pay Master Wong a visit tonight,” James stated, sliding a pair of fresh ales toward you and Natalia. “This one’s on me.”

“Are you going to tell me which lord you stole the coin from?” you asked, sipping at the drink before Stephen could check its contents.

“It’s the one with the wart on his nose,” James snickered behind his drink. “I picked him specifically because you mentioned he beats his wife.”

“He’s getting another visit from the Widow in a few nights,” Natalia added with a wicked grin.

“I don’t pity the man-,” you started coughing, trying to clear your throat. “-Ah, excuse me-!”

Caught in a fit of coughs, Stephen’s focus became you. You couldn’t catch a breath, even when he tapped your back, and you hadn’t had anything to eat- the ale. A wave of his hand confirmed the liquid had been tampered with.

“Find out who served that ale,” he demanded the assassins, grabbing your arm and hauling you outside of the pub.

You gasped for air, clutching at your throat while he drew up a portal back to the observatory. If this was what was happening with the protection enchantment in your system, he hesitated to think of the alternative.

Scooping you up, he stepped through and situated you on one of the chaise’s strewn throughout the room.

He thumbed through his collection of vials before finding a generic antidote and opening your mouth to pour the liquid in.

It worked- kind of. You were able to take a few shallow breaths, but your eyes rolled back and you collapsed, falling back against the chaise.

This was literally his worse case scenario. Everything he’d been afraid of, because he’d let you convince him to go out, and because he’d distracted himself with his conversation with Natalia.

He summoned a spell book, fingers finding the page he recalled from his apprentice days. It was written to purge someone of any toxic entities within them, be it poison or dark magic. Moving his hands through the air and reciting the runes, your body was overtaken by a wisp of winding yellow light.

It threaded itself through you, eventually hitting the source of the poison in your chest and pulling the toxic liquid free in a cloud of rancid black smoke. That was peculiar. Generally such a reaction was associated with dark magic rather than a consumed poison.

Poison was usually a dark red or green.

You stirred the moment the spell had finished its work. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you looked to Stephen in wide-eyed horror.

“I was wrong,” you stated, hand to your chest.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m not dying,” you answered quickly. “Stephen, I am so sorry… I underestimated my… wait, Peter.”

Stephen understood your meaning immediately. He instructed you to stay within the safety of the observatory and opened a portal to the outside of the prince’s chambers.

The knights on guard jumped at the sudden appearance of the sorcerer, who took no time for pleasantries.

“An attempt was made on the princess’ life,” he informed the duo. “Have you heard any disturbance from the prince?”

“No one has been in or out since the prince retired,” Sir Samuel informed him, looking to Sir Clinton with a shrug. “He hasn’t made a noise.”

Just as Samuel finished his sentence, there was a loud crash from within the room.

The guards charged in, finding the prince in a struggle with a masked man. The prince was doing his best to fight off the dagger brandishing assassin, kicking him in the chest when he was distracted by the entrance of the guards.

When the assassin realized he was outnumbered, Stephen saw his hands move rapidly to open a portal, and before anyone could intervene, he was gone.

“Your highness!” Samuel rushed to the prince’s side while Stephen ignited the candles in the room with a snap of his fingers. “Are you injured?”

“Sir Clinton, get to the queen and Princess Morgan,” Peter ordered after catching his breath. He looked to Stephen. “And the older princess?”

“Safe,” came the sorcerer’s response.

“You said an attempt was made on her life,” Samuel retorted.

“A what?” Peter glared up at the sorcerer.

“I took care of it, she is safe,” Stephen assured him. “Are you injured, your highness?”

“I’m fine,” he brushed off the two men and stood up. “I want the guard awoken and informed of what has happened.”

He turned to Stephen.

“I want the wards reconstructed around the castle,” he continued. “I don’t trust the foundations of previous Masters. If you must call in sorcerers from Kamar-Taj, we will provide what they need.”

“Sir, your great uncle is due to arrive in a fortnight,” Samuel reminded him. “Shall we inform the convoy of the attempts on the royal family?”

Peter looked to Stephen with a frown. One of the young king’s first major decisions.

“Let’s address the question in the morning,” he decided. “I want to know my family is safe.”

As if on cue, Queen Virginia and Princess Morgan were led into the room by Sir Clinton and Sir Steven.

“Peter,” the queen pulled the prince into a relieved embrace. “Clint told us what had happened.”

“I recommend we reconvene in the throne room,” Steven suggested with a nervous glance around the chambers.

“The wards are strongest there,” Stephen agreed with a curt nod. “I’ll go retrieve the princess.”

He returned to the observatory and found you sitting, staring down at the floor in deep thought.

“Princess?” he called softly. You leapt up at his voice, hurrying over.

“Are they safe?”

“Peter was attacked, but he fought the assassin off,” Stephen informed her.

“And mother? And Morgan?” you bit your bottom lip anxiously.

“Safe,” he confirmed.

You let out a relieved sigh, your hands trembling slightly at your sides.

“Sir Steven suggested we go to the throne room to discuss our next options,” he offered his arm and she took it gratefully.

He hoped she didn’t feel his own tremors. His own panic at the thought of losing her. The aftershocks of their new reality and his worst nightmare.

“I won’t allow this to happen again,” he promised her quietly.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you assured him, your voice was shaky. “I was hurting, and whoever did this, acted on our vulnerabilities. I’d been selfish to hide in the village when I should have been by my family.”

“You slipped up once,” he countered, slowing his pace down the hall. He could have easily drawn a portal to the room, but he figured you both needed some time to manage your emotions. “You’re human. We make mistakes. It just happened we both made a mistake at the same time tonight. I wouldn’t have allowed you to go if I hadn’t been confident in my judgement of the situation.”

Your hand trailed down to his and you gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you Stephen,” you murmured, holding on a moment longer before replacing it on his arm.

He felt his heart give a small throb at the minute action, his fingers left tingling, and not from the damage from the accident.

“Always at your pleasure, your highness.”

(---)

3 - a new day

TAG LIST (Message to be added to this fic or my general tag list!):

@ayamenimthiriel @drstrangely-strange-deactivated @ladynothing @im-a-bi-disaster-help @idkwhatthisislol

66 notes · View notes

obeymeplz · 3 years

Text

one of those days ll mammon x gn reader

LISTEN guys... I’ve peeled through every single fanfic and one shot of my boy boy that I can find.

I’m done, finished, kaput. And I need content. So I decided to make my own.

2k words, ft. Belphie my salty homie

Warnings: mean(ish) mammon (because I’m a hoe for angst, highly implicative of smut...?, cussing...?

Enjoy ig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ sorry if I suck LOL

It was one of those days, and it all began when you dropped your plate of pickled pancakes (it’s an acquired Devildom taste) all over your crisp, white shoes. Beel involuntarily frowned at the waste of food, while the other demon boys snickered at your inherent clumsiness, Lucifer merely rolling his eyes before excusing himself from the table. But someone was missing that morning.

From that moment on, you knew nothing would be going your way.

Your bad luck followed you to second period, where you received a colossal “F” on your scrying test, and then to lunch where Satan and Asmo had to pull you out of a fight with a succubus who had thought it her business to label you a “suck up whore”. This was a name you were used to; from the moment you arrived, every demon and unthinkable hoard in the Devildom believed you to be sleeping with every brother in the House of Lamentation, playing through all of them with zero consequences. Despite the utter falsity of these accusations, they hurt no less every time you had to hear them.

And to top today’s cake with a juicy red cherry, the one single person who could make all your worries melt away with just a smile had been nowhere in your sights all day. Mammon was indeed the sunshine you needed on this dreary afternoon, with his dumb tinted glasses and cocky remarks, yet endearing eyes and wondrous grin.

Staring out the window of an empty chem room, waiting for someone to be available to walk you home, you realized that it was an odd day - such a new world you’d been thrown into, yet so quickly you had familiarized yourself with your new “normal”; and now that normal wasn’t there. There were certain things you knew, day in and day out.

The sun will (sort of) rise.

The sun will (kind of) set.

You live in Hell.

Mammon will always be there.

These things you counted on to be true, because if they weren’t, you weren’t entirely certain how you’d keep your sanity intact.

“For a human who’s supposed to be completely inferior to our kind, you sure do seem to think a lot”.

Belphie.

“Gee, Belphie, you know, “you sure do” have a way with words. Thank you! I just feel so much better”, you scoffed a retort as you swung your legs over the ledge of the window to face the cow-haired boy, clearly having just woken from sleeping through 7th period. He only smirked at you.

“I heard you need a warm body to walk next to, and I figured I could use the company. Home?”

You smiled smally as he helped you to your feet. “Yeah, home sounds nice”.

He reciprocated the smile.

“So, what really has you down in the dumps?”

You shrugged as you tried to formulate a thought that might make sense to him.

“Well… I guess I-”, you had to cut off mid sentence, because something familiar began to tickle your ears — a laugh, one you’d been aching to hear all day.

“Belphie, is that… is that Mammon? Where has he been all day?”, you were asking the question, but your legs were already moving you out the door away from the answer. He replied, but you could only piece together bits as you got further away from him, following the voice of the snow-haired boy instead. Argument, Mammon left, crashed with friends, all night, definitely in trouble. That’s what you processed.

“Mammon-” you rounded the corner, but halted in your tracks, backing behind it when you came near face-to-face with a group of demons much taller and much stronger than you, energies darker than the ones you were used to being surrounded by.

He hadn’t heard you.

“Bro, that was a riot. You gotta swing with us more often my man”.

“Ya know Lucifer wouldn’t even think ‘bout lettin’ me ride with you guys on the day-to-day. ‘Sides, I got things to do”.

“You mean a human to babysit?”, your breath caught in your throat. You heard Mammon scoff.

“No! I do what I want. They’re cool.”

Your heart pounded into your throat (but that’s something you’d never let him know). You were just friends, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever be more. Sure, he was terrible at hiding how much he cared about you, and sure, he was ridiculously possessive over you, but he’s also the Avatar of Greed, so how much of that is him needing you versus his sin needing you? The way you saw it, neither of those things amounted to relationship-worthy love.

The conversation was droning on, and you’d almost forgotten you were listening.

“So, you fuckin that then or what?”

Your head snapped back into full awareness, the tone of your feelings completely changing every second, anxiously awaiting your favorite demon’s reply. Why were you so nervous? He wouldn’t lie about you, he wouldn’t slander your name — not with what people already thought of you because you lived in a giant house with 7 painfully-attractive, desire-filled, and experienced, rulers of Hell.

“Yeah, the rumors true?”

Mammon’s voice came next at a grumble.

He stuttered it.

You almost didn’t catch it.

You must not have.

“Y-yeah. No, I mean absolutely. I mean, how could a human even turn down The Great Mammon? They couldn’t, and they don’t.”

You must not have heard it — but you did, and you almost wished you hadn’t

Before your thoughts could catch up with your limbs, you found yourself rounding the corner yet again. “Yeah, how could they not, Mammon?”, your voice cracking at the end, despite all your efforts to come across smooth and level-headed.

“MC..”, Mammon’s mouth instantly hung open, his chill facade easily melting away. He looked almost identical to a lost puppy within moments.

“Oh you can bet, Mammon fucks me every single night — no feelings involved, because that’s just the kind of big man he is. He’s even fucking me RIGHT NOW. Right, Mon?”, you seethed his nickname through your teeth. Tears were starting to puddle at the lids of your eyes, threatening to expose just how much you really cared for him, and just how unspeakably broken you felt in that moment.

“M-MC. Pl- please don’t —“, he was already approaching you, pushing past the group of boys. You turned on your heel, catching the watching eyes of Belphie at the end of the hall. You ran for him until you were in reach to yank on his arm, pulling him behind you, as fast and as far away from that school, and Mammon, as possible.

“MC!”

Mammon will always be there.

Mammon would not always be there. This was a new truth you heartbrokenly added to your list.

———————————————————-

Your room was icily cold, numbingly so.

You always kept it like that when you were sad, hoping maybe some of the lack of feeling in your body would translate to your heart.

Hoping you wouldn’t feel so shattered.

You trusted him. And he broke it. He broke you.

These are obvious statements, but as you laid solemnly tucked under a heap of blankets, you couldn’t help but run them, and the scene from today, over and over again through your brain.

Maybe you were overreacting?

Mammon had always been the brother, despite his tsundere attitude, who protected you. He never lost his cool with you, and he never treated you poorly. Maybe he made a few callous remarks here and there, but they were gentle underneath, and just his own way of showing you a glimpse of the angel wings he’d lost a long time ago.

Mammon had become your home.

“MC?”

The voice was muffled through the door, but it was undoubtedly him. You weren’t sure if you were shocked, happy, angry, or assured that he had come, but either way, you wouldn’t dare leave your covers to open the locked door. Not yet.

“MC. Please. Open the door. I-I just wanna talk to ya…”

You didn’t budge.

“I will kick this down, ya know”. You were both quiet until you heard some shuffling outside. Your eyes went wide, ready for a foot to come flying through shards of your door. You scrambled to your feet, stumbling over to the rusted knob.

You cracked it open.

“Please don’t. I don’t want to sleep in Beel’s room another week because my room needs renovating for the millionth time.”

Mammon smiled shyly at you, apologetically more than anything.

“Can I.. ya know, come in?”

You pulled out of the way, making just enough room for the tall, lean demon to slip through the crack in your door.

The moment he stepped in, he was engulfed in darkness, nothing but dim threads of moonlight that seeped in through your curtains to highlight the sharp features of his face and body. He’d shed his jacket since earlier, leaving him in his fitted black tee and jeans.

So beautiful.

You mentally slapped yourself for even thinking about it.

You were mad at him.

“So. Please talk. I’m exhausted and wasn’t planning on even looking at you tonight.” You were curt. But you had to be, or else you wouldn’t be able to hold anything back, whether that be anger, or adoration.

He looked taken back — hurt — too. He glanced at your bed and the candy wrappers strewn about the floor. Mammon wasn’t too bright, but he knew enough to know when someone had been crying for well over an hour.

On a normal occasion, he would’ve thrown himself onto your sheets, rolling until he found a comfortable position to scroll his D.D.D. and poke at you for hours.

But tonight, he awkwardly crossed his arms and shuffled his feet, clearly unsure of what to say first — or at all, for that matter.

“I-“

You raised a tired eye, cueing him to spit whatever excuse he could possibly say out.

“I get a bad rep sometimes.”

What?

“For liking ya.. Hanging with ya.”

If this was an apology, it was the worst one you’d ever heard in your life.

“Oh? Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a burden to your bravado. Let me continue to take myself out of the picture.” You pointed at the door for him to leave, ready to break down the moment he walked through.

“No! That- that’s not what I meant.” He made eye contact for a mere moment, silently begging for you to see his sincerity.

“Is anything ever what you mean, Mammon?” The use of his full name in a mix with that tone clearly set him back, but he shook it off hurriedly.

“Yes! I mean, I don’t care. Usually. I’d-I’d just had a rough day with Luci. Rough life, more like, and I was tired of feelin’ like shit ‘bout myself. Nazriel’s question jus’ threw me off. I-I wanted to seem cool, so I said what I knew would make me, and-“

“And you’re a piece of shit for it”.

You weren’t wrong. And he knew that.

“... and I’m a piece of shit for it.”

There was a pause before he hesitantly continued.

“I wound up bein’ exactly what I was tryin’ not to be. Scummy.”

He raised his eyes to meet yours, blue hues morphing into gold flecks like waves crashing on the beach. Your breath hitched and caught in your throat, only now realizing that the whole time you’d been arguing, you’d both been slowly edging together. Now, you were dangerously close.

“You aren’t scummy, Mammon…”, you began to tenderly look at him.

“Yeah.. I am. But that’s just me, I guess. I can’t mind it.”

He took one step, leaving you toe to toe. Though one of the shorter of the boys, he still towered over you.

“I jus’ can’t be scummy to you.”

You tilted your head, heart and body language softening as he spoke.

“I shouldn’t be, and I don’ wanna be”.

His hands cautiously made their way to your shoulders, and you shuddered at the feeling that made its way through your bones.

“Mammon?”

“Yeah?”

“That apology shouldn’t have worked.”

He chuckled, “you’re right.”

You smiled, a true smile. The first one all day. And what came next, you knew probably shouldn’t. But you also didn’t really care.

“Mammon?”

He hummed in response, and you stood as high as you could on your tip-toes to kiss his cheek. His face deeply rouged the moment your lips met his hot skin.

His eyes were wide as you lowered yourself down, leaving a hand lingering on his arm.

In that moment, his aura shifted, and everything was suspensefully still. Within seconds, his arms wrapped you in a crushing hug, his breath heavy and warm behind your ear.

You sunk your weight into his, relishing the relief from the chill of your room, as you snaked your arms behind his back.

You weren’t entirely sure how long you stood like that, but you knew it must’ve been a while, because his grip was starting to affect your breathing.

“Mon- air”,

He lightened up and pulled back from you.

“S-sorry!”

Your lips turned up at the sight of his cute embarrassment. He scowled at you, knowing what you were thinking, but slowly started to laugh.

He leaned his forehead against yours, the sudden proximity causing you to let out a slight squeak.

“Ya drive me nuts, ya know?”

You searched his eyes, trying to make sure he was saying what you really thought he was.

This was a bad idea. For so many reasons.

But truthfully, neither of you gave two shits.

So he ghosted his lips over yours, his left fang biting his bottom, waiting for the sign to move — the sign that you wanted him, the sign that he would be enough.

The second you tilted your nose to the side of his, he crashed his mouth into yours.

From all the “first kisses” with your “first man” that you’d imagined, this was like none of them.

It was so

so much better.

It was fast, it was hard, but it wasn’t rough. It wasn’t brutal. It wasn’t empty. It was a cataclysm of feelings — pent up tension, pent up love.

As he dragged his mouth over yours, he hooked his hands under your legs, lifting you to wrap around him in one, swift movement. Then, he was on the move, backing himself toward your bed until the back of his knees met the mattress, and he collapsed, pulling your legs to straddle his lap. You hadn’t disconnected from his lips the entire time, still fervently needing more of him. You knew he felt the same. The demon of greed would most certainly never have enough of you. He tasted sweet and smelled strongly of an expensive cologne you knew he probably couldn’t actually afford. One of his hands stayed splayed on the top of your thigh, while the other worked to bring you even closer to him (if that was possible), pressing underneath your shirt to the skin on your back, two fingers edging their way into the beltline of your shorts.

He was careful not to take himself too far, to not lose control, and you could tell, so you worked your tongue past his lips. He sucked in a breath as the complete access to your mouth made room for him to deepen his greed for you. Slipping his tongue to meet yours, he nipped at your bottom lip, working his entire mouth in a blissful harmony.

He pulled back, heaving air, seeping desire from every muscle, just enough to speak to you,

“MC… I-I can’t… I can’t handle this... well... for much longer. I don’ know what I’m gonna do to ya…”, he began to pepper wet kisses down your neck, unable to keep himself off you long enough to even hear your reply.

You weren’t sure what else you were expecting, or if you were expecting anything else at all.

You were making out with a demon, after all.

You moved a hand to rake your nails through his frosty hair, and he leaned into the palm of your touch.

“It’s okay. I want you. All of you...”, it was only a whisper, but you were afraid if you spoke too loud, you’d snap the moment in half.

He did nothing but growl before reattaching his lips to yours, bringing his slender fingers to tug up at the hem of your shirt.

“I’m gonna do my best not to hurt ya…” he mumbled on your lips. You simply nodded, running your hands against his abs. He shivered at the contact, before helping you remove his own shirt.

Somewhere in the midst of him sliding on top of you, and the complete sight of the demon boy you had always longed for filling your soul, you heard the faintest of three words. You almost tricked yourself into believing they never entered the air, that they’d never left his lips.

But they were impossible to ignore.

“I love you”.

The sun will (sort of) rise.

The sun will (kind of) set.

You live in Hell, with 7 boys you dearly love,

but one holds you in the palm of his hand.

Mammon will always be there.

That night, he proved that truth to you over, and over again.

fin.

115 notes · View notes

kaepop-trash · 3 years

Note

IM SHOOK? SHAKEN? CHANGED??:&:9 PUSH AND PULL IS SO GOOD??:&:@; AAAA. I LOVE YOUR WORK.. LITERALLY OBSESSED ... i was wondering if it had a part 2 BUT THE CLIFF HANGER .. GOD INSANITY.. UR SUCH A GOOD WRITER AAAAA

There was a time when I had considered writing another part for it, but truly there was just one scene I really wanted to write. When I saw this, I felt compelled to write it. Consider it an apology for the cliff hanger I left the fic on. Not that this is any better.

I was intrigued by this dynamic when I wrote this fic and I continue to be even now. So consider this more self-gratification than anything else. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it.

Tw: unhealthy relationship dynamic, hints of obsession and violence if you squint.

This was strange. She was allowed to think that. The restaurant was a good one, she was dressed as well as she always was.

Kim Doyoung was in a white shirt and dark jeans. His eyes were focused on the menu in his hand, brows stitch together in concentration. The other hand ran through his hair, an honest effort to push it out of his face. But it was long and fell over his eyes just as soon as he let it go, the only difference being a few strands that stuck up.

She looked down at her fingers, nails now cleaned of the blood from his scalp. He had very soft hair too, she could remember the feel of it against her palm. She could remember the other parts too.

"Have you decided what you want?" His voice made her look up. He was watching her with careful calculation, the gaze of a panther assessing his prey. He was a fool to think she wasn't herself a predator.

"Sure." She slapped the menu close, the sound sudden and loud.

He just nodded, "Okay." His eyes coloured with amusement. She clenched her fist tight, impatient and irritated. "Are you usually this quiet?" He sat back in his seat.

"I speak when I want to, Mr. Kim." Her voice was curt.

He gave her a heinous smirk, "I had my tongue in your cunt, (Y/N). You can call me Doyoung." He reached for his glass of water.

His words made her shift in her chair. Her body reacting against her will was what made the last thread of courtesy snap.

"Other people have done more than that. Physical intimacy isn't grounds for familiarity, not with me." She settled back into her chair. When his jaw flexed, she smiled. At least now they were both annoyed.

"What is grounds for familiarity with you?" His voice was sharper, gaze narrower.

"Why do you care, Mr. Kim?" She snapped. "I'm not interested in being familiar with you."

"Why not?" He furrowed his brows.

"I'm not interested in being familiar with anyone." It was the first honest thing she'd spoken in a while.

"Scared?" He looked intrigued.

"Indifferent." Her frown twisted further.

He hummed, considering her words. "I could make a compelling case."

"It would be a wasted effort. I'm sure you'll find someone more suited to your demands elsewhere." She reached for her glass of water, confused and displeased by the way this was going.

Yet a part of her clawed with intrigue, wanting to know why he was seemingly undeterred. It stopped her from walking out the door, "Can we order?" She questioned. He gave her an unbothered smile, nodding in answer. She wanted to pry open his skull if it told her what he was thinking.

"I don't understand why you're being so persistent. I'm not trying to be coy, I'm not interested in anything beyond sex." She told him once the waiter left with their orders.

"We can have sex." He said it like it was a consolation prize, one he only considered in hindsight.

She crossed her arms over her chest, "What do you want, Doyoung?"

He licked his lips, eyes grazing the skin over the low neckline of her dress. "I started a painting the night I first met you. I haven't painted anything in three years." His eyes glazed over at that, clearly not present at the table anymore. "The second time I met you, the image became clearer, I could picture the colours of it." His eyes focused again, honing in on her. Her stomach flipped. "Last night I thought of a different painting I will paint after this." He gave her a look of conviction, "I must get to know you better." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not keen on being used." She brushed it off.

"Being somebody's muse is a privilege, (Y/N)." His tone flares with offense, "It's being immortalised in memory. I want to capture you in between my brushes and commit you to canvas. I want to make you art." He frowned at her, confused by the rejection.

"Privilege?" She laughed, the sound light and melodious. "It sounds to me like I'm the one doing you a favour. It's your privilege, Mr. Kim." She laughed a little more.

"I don't care what you think." His words didn't match the look on his face, "I haven't had inspiration in years. I'm losing my touch. If I don't create, I cease to be." Anger seeped into his eyes, burning bright red.

She sat back in her chair, "What do I get in return?" She couldn't believe that she was actually considering it.

"What do you want, (Y/N)? Other than an artist's devotion."

She scoffed at his words, "Let me display your art. Anywhere, anytime. If you want to use me, I want to be the only person who gets to use your paintings." She saw the gears grinding in his head at her words.

While it would be a good deal to have, a part of her was sure he'd never agree to it. She knew his reputation. Kim Doyoung did not like sharing what was his.

"Fine." It was his lack of hesitation that caught her off-guard. “But I have a single condition instead. It’s not up for argument.”

She nodded, the possibility of having the exclusive right to display the art of one of the most coveted artists alive worth anything he could demand. He smiled like he was aware of that.

“I want you to myself. No other people.” His eyes bore into her, his gaze the most intense thing about his presence. She clenched her fist so tight that her nails dug into the skin, her palm stinging.

She wanted to slap him.

The demand was a clear sign of control over her. She knew artists, knew the extent of their obsessions. She also knew they tended to fade fast.

“Alright, Doyoung.” She bit her lip. “Have your way with me.” Despite herself, she felt her chest stir at her own words.

He flicked the light on, the large empty space illuminated with harsh white light. She looked around, the studio mostly empty save for a single canvas that rested against the wall. The smell of paint thinner in the air told her that he had been at it recently. Doyoung stood by the door as she walked towards the piece, the click of her heels echoing in the space.

The canvas was a messy blend of colours: red, orange and white. In the centre of ot sat the outline of a couch. “This is what you made?” She questioned, the perceptive eye of someone acquainted with art observing every detail.

“Don’t like it?” He spoke from across the room.

She focused on the blend of colours; despite the bold mix of red and orange, it was the white strokes that felt aggressive. “It’s confusing.” She shifted her weight between her feet.

She heard his footsteps approach her, “Have you ever felt rage, (Y/N)? Blinding rage that you cannot control? Only channel?” His words bounced off the walls.

“I’m not sure what I did to deserve your rage.” Her voice was softer.

“You seduced me, (Y/N).” His footsteps stopped short of her heel. “You were using every dirty trick one could do it. And you were so blatant about it.” He groaned.

Her lips tugged, “I’m known to go after what I like in the moment.” She swallowed.

“You’re shameless.” He spat the word like an insult. She clenched her jaw, “And it makes me furious that I can’t stop thinking about you.” There was a crack in his calm voice, it made her breath falter for a second.

“You aren’t the first." She scoffed, "You don’t have to be hard on yourself, I know what I’m doing. Your reaction is to be expected.” She tried to keep her voice level, not giving him the priviledge of seeing her own rage. Rage was an admittance of effect and she would not let him see his effect on her.

She gasped when his finger brushed up her thigh. “You don’t know anything about me." He mumbled, still maintaining the last few inches of distance. "I don’t play games, I don’t collect conquests.”

She laughed, her head falling back. He took a step closer, pushing her head to the side to brush his lips over her neck. “I know people, Doyoung. I especially know men. You want to believe you’re complex,” He bit down on the smooth skin, she moaned. “But lust is never complicated. It’s deceptively simple. You’re currently playing a game with me, one you want to win. You just don’t know it, which is your loss because you don’t have a prize in mind.” He licked the skin he just ruined, purring into her throat. He bit down the same place again, harder. She whimpered.

“I know my prize.” His nose brushed up her jaw, his breath heating her skin.

“I’m not a trophy to be acquired.” She took a step back, pressing into his chest.

Doyoung sighed, hand reaching around and tugging on her waist, “Who said I was talking about you?”

She clenched her jaw. “What is it you hope to win then?” His hand brushed up and grabbed her jaw, tilting her head back further.

“Let me show you.” His lips brushed against her cheeks. He gathered her dress in his hands, hitching it higher. “Lift your arms.” He whispered. When she did, he pulled the material off.

His fingers made quick work of the rest of her garments. Once she was completely bare, he turned her around. His smile was deceptively gentle, “Do you enjoy being a whore, (Y/N)?” He took a step back, looking her over with detached scrutiny.

“Very much so.” She stepped out of her underwear. When he looked up with a sharp gaze, it was her turn to give him a sweet smile.

“Will you enjoy being my whore?” He brushed his index finger on his lips. Soft, pretty lips that she made a note to destroy.

“That is to be seen.” She breathed out.

He smiled wide, pointing behind him. “Sit on that sheet.”

She gave him a skeptical look. When he added no further explanation, she did what she was told. She walked up to the large white cloth that lay flat on the floor, ready for whatever he had planned. She bent over, deliberately slow, and took her heels off. Walking over to the centre of the sheet and sitting down, bringing her knees up to her chest. She sat patiently.

“Such a pretty picture you make.” He hummed, walking over to a table littered with paint and brushes. He picked up a few bottles, coming up to stand in front of her. Her heart beat so fast with anticipation that she was certain it was echoing against the walls.

He kneeled in front of her, “Give me your palms.” His eyes stayed on her face, his voice still dispassionate. She lifted her hands and laid them out for him. When he looked down at them, she glanced at his features. Without his dark gaze, his face looked almost delicate. She felt thick liquid on her palm, looking down to see him squeeze blue and green paint on each palm.

He looked up when he finished, “Lust isn’t simple. It’s like being on fire one second and being drowned the next. Put your hands behind you and lean back.” She took in an unsteady breath, sitting back.

The paint squished between her palm when she pressed them on the sheet, coming out from between her fingers. He sat back, unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes didn’t leave hers the entire time.

“Which one of us will drown?” She breathed out, words mixed with soft pants.

He unbuckled his belt, smirking when she squeezed her legs. “That is to be seen.” He repeated her own words back, grabbing her knees to open her legs again. He stood up, pushing his jeans off. Once he did, he squeezed the green paint onto his knees. Her breathing was ragged now, bouncing off the walls and filling the space with the admittance of her eagerness.

He walked around to her back, leaning down. “Sit up.” His voice was lower, and to her victorious realisation, afflicted. When she did, his knees pressed into the small of her back, paint rubbing against her skin. She couldn’t explain why, but the rudimentary action made her moan. He brushed her hair up, tying it up on her head with a tie she didn’t know he had. Everything felt meticulously planned.

He squeezed more paint onto her spine, rubbing it around with precise fingers. He remained unnervingly silent, getting up and coming back around to face her again. “You’re so beautiful.” He gasped.

The words made her smirk, chest heaving with quick breaths. “I know.”

He smirked back, “I’m going to make you divine.” He put his knees on the sheet, the blue and green rubbing together. She stared at the traces, for a moment mesmerised by the mark it left.

She yelped when he grabbed her ankle and tugged her, her wet palms slipping. Her back landed on the sheet, her head stinging a little from the sudden contact. He parted her legs with his knee, she looked up to see him squeeze white paint into his palm. He rubbed his hands together, before using them to hover over her. “You’re going to display the very manifestation of your lust in museums all over the world, (Y/N). We’re going to commodify your sin. That’s my prize.” His hands slid across the sheet and grabbed her waist.

She reached up and grabbed his throat, the smooth white skin tainted blue and green. “It’s going to be our sin, Doyoung.” She dragged her eyes from his eyes to his lips.

“I was under the impression that you didn’t want familiarity.” His hands rubbed white paint up her sides, brushing under her breasts. Both their breathing matched in impatience.

She pulled him closer, resting her lips on his. “If you’re going to immortalise me, I will own you.” She promised. He smiled against her lips, kissing her.

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Push and Pull

#doyoung smut #nct smut #doyoung scenarios #doyoung drabble #nct doyoung #doyoung #kim doyoung #nct drabble #miscellaneous #push and pull #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct 127 smut

53 notes · View notes

dessarious · 4 years

Text

The Angel of Death Pt38

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

“I believe I’ve made myself quite clear sir.” Tris responded calmly, but inside she was cursing and calling herself every word she could come up with for ‘idiot’ or worse. Not only had she endangered herself in one moment of rage, she’d endangered the Kwami and the people who thought of her as a friend. She needed to get them all away and prepare them for the League to descend on Paris. There was no way word wouldn’t get back to Talia now and everyone who knew her was in danger. What the hell was wrong with her?

“I suppose you have, but I still think we should talk. You seem to be under the impression that Damian is still in contact with, or even connected to Talia, but I can assure you he’s not. I would also like to know what the connection between you two is.” Tris finally took the time to look at Damian’s threads. There was a dark purple thread connecting him to Mr. Wayne and various others, some lighter, going off in one direction. The anger she felt at that surprised her but considering he was the reason she only had one familial connection it annoyed her that he got to have those relationships. Maybe it was petty, but she couldn’t help it at the moment. What really caught her attention was the inky black thread that was running in the same direction as her own. She had to wonder what had caused Talia to turn on her precious son.

“We’re soulmates.” Tris glared at Damian’s bored tone in response to his father. He’d always put on an apathetic front about their string that annoyed her to no end.

“We were soulmates. That bond was severed and luckily for me it shows no signs of reforming.” She saw something flash in his eyes but it was too fast to get a good read on it. His father looked like he’d just been slapped. For her part she was doing her best not to look at the string between them. It was a rather nauseating greenish orange which was bad enough, but it was also pulsing in a way that left her with a sense of dread.

“Damian has changed a lot in the last few years, perhaps if you two got to know each other again your bond would have a chance to come back.” She couldn’t help the wan look she shot at the man. In any other case perhaps a red string was something to be cherished and protected. In this instance it absolutely wasn’t.

“Sir, being connected to your son destroyed my life in a way I’ll never be able to recover from. I’m not insane or stupid enough to invite that influence back in to see how much worse things can get.” The man looked like he wanted to argue further but Damian put a hand on his arm.

“She’s right. Our bond began weakening the moment we met. My death simply allowed the universe to correct a mistake.” His tone was… strange. The Damian she remembered would have been smug because he was no longer connected to a worthless burden like her, but now… from anyone else she’d call it wistful. It didn’t make any sense. She finally looked at the people around them and noted the mass confusion. They’d held the entire conversation in Arabic and she was glad for it. She was going to get interrogated regardless, but she’d rather not give them too much information. Mr. Wayne was looking between her and Damian obviously trying to decide if he should push the issue. Eventually he just sighed, pulled out a business card, and held it out to her. Tris just blinked at him.

“In case you ever change your mind, or if you need anything.”

“I won’t.” The man pinched the bridge of his nose before glaring at her.

“Just take it to make me feel better.” She looked at Damian to get a better idea of what his intentions were but he just looked amused.

“I assure you that I can find your information on my own should I require it. I don’t understand why giving me a piece of cardstock makes you feel better.” Domain actually coughed to cover a laugh and it stunned her for a moment. She’d never seen him show things so openly. It was creepy.

“None of these numbers are publicly available and I would feel better knowing you have them should you need help. Especially with Talia currently in the wind.” So he was trying to monitor her movements. That was something to look into later.

“She’s in Norway for the next few days, then likely will be heading to the Congo.” Once Tris realized the woman was looking for the Angel of Death she’d started taking jobs in the most random pattern she could manage. It was rather amusing watching the woman chase her trail. Both Damian and his father were looking at her like she’d grown a second head. “That woman already ruined my life once, I’m not about to let her sneak up on me to do that or worse again. I assure you I’m prepared for most scenarios, and if it’s something I’m not prepared for chances are high I wouldn’t be able to contact you anyway. They’re pretty much zero that you’d get to me in time to help even if you could.”

“You may as well just take it. If you don’t he’ll start monitoring your movements as well and I’m sure you don’t want that.” She let out an involuntary scoff at Damian’s assumption they’d be able to monitor her. Even without the Kwami to help, they’d only see what she allowed.

“You can try, but unlike you I haven’t been living the high life the past three years. I’ve been on my own evading your mother and everyone else in the League who thought it was a good idea to use me to get at you. I don’t care how good you think you are, you don’t stand a chance of following me if I don’t let you.” She couldn’t help the bitterness in her tone. The look of shock on Damian’s face that said he hadn’t even considered what her life had been like didn’t help her mood at all.

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@kceedraws @theatreandcomicfreak @krispydefendorpolice @magic-miraculous @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @northernbluetongue @interobanginyourmom @rebecarojas07 @dast218 @abrx2002 @damianette-is-life @yin-390 @fontegagrilledcheese @bigpicklebananatree @tbehartoo @nobodyw8s4evr @linim2503 @ladybug-182 @marinettepotterandplagg @daminett4life @thethirdwheelfriend @corabeth11 @emotionalsupportginger @shizukiryuu @toodaloo-kangaroo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @sassakitty @my-name-is-michell @multplelifes @sassydepression @danielslilangel @winter-gardenflower @animegirlweeb @romanoff-queen @nanakeid @paradoxal-occurance @theg0ddesspersephone @hinata3487 @irontimetravelflower @the-real-gingakid @heaven428 @peachedpocky @justafanwarrior @gentlemanoftimetravel @18-fandoms-unite-08 @kittycatwowmeow @pale-lady-dreamer @i-is-mysterious @captainartsypants @write-for-your-life2 @queengeorgiaaa @schrodingers25 @thecaptainthunder @elspethshadow @stela-likes-drawing @loysydark @lozzybowe @renscorpio @elmokingkong @the-fusionist @tis-i-beanbandit @smolplantmum @iwantwhirlledpeasandlotsatrees @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @chocolateherringtacofan @how-to-fuction-properly

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #Tris #Damian Wayne #bruce wayne #assassin mari #angst

161 notes · View notes

thestarwrites · 3 years

Text

All Right, All Might: Ch.8

Word Count: 3,242

Rating: PG

Painting: Toshinori Yagi X FemOC

The UA Guidance Counselor, a quirk user with Pathokenesis, is shocked to find out her personal hero All Might is coming to be a teacher. The road they walk as a parallel starts to merge and there’s no telling what could happen. The attack on the USJ has sparked a lot of things from happening -- including a new level of relationship for Toshinori.

---

CHAPTER EIGHT: The Morning After

A soft hum leaves Patho’s lips as she feels the sunlight through the blinds on her cheeks, and the long lean arms around her waist — wait — her eyes pop open and she looks down at the familiar hands and arms of Toshinori wrapped around her from behind. Her whole body feels like its on fire in an instant. Biting her lip she turns her face to look at him. He looks like an angel.

She remembers going to bed with him — not WITH him, but, she made him sleep in the queen sized bed. He was injured after all. He went to sleep curled up on one side of the bed, and she on the other. When did they start spooning?

Closing her eyes again she sighed softly, it felt so nice to be in his arms. She could still smell his cologne faintly on his skin, she loved the smell of him. His whole aura was still big and strong and powerful - he just didn’t think so - so being in his arms felt so safe. She knew it was the only place she ever wanted to be.

Things will be different one day, when they are we can talk about it then.

His words from last night rang through her head, she didn’t want to have to wait until that one day came. She knew he was selfless, that he wouldn’t want to put a burden on anyone - but he deserved to be happy too. To chase what he wanted. Keri sighed and turned in his arms slowly so she was facing the sleeping man’s face.

They would have to talk about this now.

Leaning up she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, “Toshinori…”

He hummed softly, squeezing the plush woman in his arms, “Not yet…”

She chuckled gently, “Toshi… come on.”

Toshinori blinked his eyes open and flushed bright red, “UH— I UH—“ Keri put her hand on his chest, activating her quirk to calm him. After a few moments he swallowed thickly, “We’re… very close.”

“I know, I woke up with you spooning me,” Keri smiled, “Problem?”

He flushed beet red, “No— no I… I just don’t remember…”

“We just must have been drawn to another body in the bed, you and I usually sleep alone you know?” She gingerly ran her hand over his chest, “Toshi…. i…. I want us to have that talk you mentioned.”

“Keri.”

“No. I want to have that talk now because I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or the next day and I don’t want to do this anymore.” She looked sternly up at him, tears in her eyes.

His own eyebrows knit together, “Don’t cry—“

“Toshinori, will you go out on a date with me?” She looked up at him, cheeks red, eyes glassy.

The older man felt so conflicted to look into her eyes and know what life had in store for him still, he thought about Nighteye in that moment, about his mentor, about All for One. She didn’t know everything, how could he tell her everything? She dealt with enough, and now she was going to have to deal with more student issues due to the attack the previous day.

Taking a deep breath he sighed, “Keri… you’re just still all worked up from yesterday is all, you don’t mean that.”

She scoffed softly, “I know perfectly well what I mean and what I don’t mean. I was so worried yesterday and, and I spoke to your friend outside — he… he asked me how long I’ve had feelings for you.”

Toshinori’s cheeks reddened as he looked at her, his arms still wrapped comfortably around her. He wanted to get up, put some distance between them - but he was frozen, “You… have feelings for me?”

“Yeah… I do.”

He took a deep breath and sighed, “You don’t want me, I’m… I’m old and I’m ugly, and I’m all but washed up at this point, and I… I don’t frankly know how long I’m going to live. You don’t even know me that well because I always keep everyone at arms length…”

“I do want you,” She looked up at him, “I know I don’t know everything. And you can take your time telling me what you want to tell me. You’re my best friend, Toshi.” She gently squeezed his shirt, “I want to try… but if you don’t… then that’s okay too.”

Toshinori looked at the girl he trusted implicitly and he considered everything they’ve been through so far together. She knew about things no other woman knew about him, he so willingly let her almost completely into his life. He’d been asked so many times now if they were dating — well, here she was asking to try? Who was he to deny her?

Taking a deep breath, the older man gently rubbed her side, “I want to try.”

A tear slipped down her cheek as she broke into a smile, “You do?”

He nodded and smiled bashfully, “I’ve never been in a relationship before… I… I don’t know how good I’ll be at it.”

Keri just laughed softly, “We’re literally just going to be what we’ve always been — just, adding in this…”  Leaning up, she pressed her lips gently to his and his whole body tensed. His hands gripped into her hips as he slowly began to kiss her back. His hand slowly threaded into her long messy hair. After she pulled back with a soft smile he chuckled, “I think I can handle that…”

Smiling she ran a thumb over his cheek, “Come on… we have to get ready for work. It’s a big day. You have the big meeting with Nezu and the other teachers, and I have to start 1-A’s counseling.”

He groaned, “Its too early.”

“No, I gotta bring you back to your apartment to get ready.” She chuckled, “I don’t want you to use your hero form until you get to school.”

“Yes, dear.” He smirked and kissed her softly once more before she pulled out of his arms and stood up, stretching, “So… will you still go on a date with me?” Toshi smiled.

Nodding she grinned, “Yes.”

—————

Walking up to the school with Toshinori in his All Might form was strange enough, usually when she was with him he was himself, her small might. But today, he had his arm crooked for her to hold onto, and her arms were wrapped around his enormous bicep, “Are you sure you’re okay with this Toshinori...? It’s only going to be a few moments until we’re seen.” She whispered softly.

He smiled a winning smile down at her, “I asked you on a date! What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t escort you to work!?”

She giggled gently at his explosive cheer, “Toshi- I’m serious.” “I’ve wanted to walk with you like this for a while, I don’t care who sees. Everyone we know apparently thinks we’re dating, right? So, here we are on time and ready for work.” He smiled more subtly, and winked.

Blushing she smiled and nodded, “All right, All Might.”

Walking into the front doors of UA, the kids still in the hallway seemed to stare in disbelief- wasn’t that the guidance counselor? - some whispered. Some less kind words reached her ears and she almost looked down, pulling away before she heard a strong voice. Her anchor, “Look at me, baby,” she looked up, “You look beautiful today.”

She flushed bright red, keeping control over her quirk- but barely- “Toshi...” she smiled.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your office,” he smoothly took her hand and led her to the elevator, as if he was in hero mode saving her from being embarrassed. Once they were alone in the small room, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, “You okay?”

“Yeah- you?”

He nodded with a small smile.

She took a deep breath and leaned into him, “You’ll make sure to fill me in on what Nezu and the others have to say at the meeting, right? Since I can’t attend.”

“Oh yes, of course, I’ll fill you in over lunch,” he nodded, stopping to take her hand once more to walk her to her office on the administrative floor, “You’re going to be great today.”

Chuckling gently she motioned for him to lean down, and she stroked his cheek gently, “So are you... I’ll see you at lunch.”

He nodded and leaned into the gap, kissing her softly.

—————

Across town… an old hero was sitting down with his breakfast to watch the morning news and read an interesting letter from an old student…

Greetings,

The air is warm here, it feels like summer is around the corner. I hope this letter finds you well, sir, in good health and even better spirits. This semester I took a position as a teacher at UA High School. Thats right. Me. Now guiding the next generation of heroes.

I was hoping to find someone worthy of inheriting my power among the elite students at the school. A hero in training with outstanding test scores and a powerful quirk. However, before my tenure even began, I met a young man. Even though he was weak and had no quirk of his own, he showed incredible bravery. He rushed into a dangerous situation that pro heroes, even myself, to hesitate.

He managed to save the life of a classmate. He might not have had a plan when he ran in, but he knew he had to do something. I feel like watching this young man spring into action taught me something that day. It reminded me of the virtues I must embody in order to call myself aa hero. Thats why I meant it when I told him he too could become a hero. Shortly after that, I told this pupil the secret of my quirk, and proposed that he inherit it from me - he accepted without hesitation. I have been training him for the trials he will have to overcome, in order to be accepted into the hero course at UA. Even though he struggles with his abilities, he gives it 100 percent as he tried to harness One for All.

I don’t like to toot my own horn, but I believe I found the perfect person. Who has what it takes to be a real hero. I’m still quite new at the role of instructor, so the time may come when I have to trouble you, my old teacher, for advice. I’ll be counting on your wisdom and patience when that time comes.

Until then, please take care of yourself as the seasons begin to change.

There is, however, something troubling me that I would like to request your advice on now, sir. There is a woman in my life. I think I am in love with her, and I don’t know what to do. She knows my secret, she knows about One for All. I actually met her last year when I visited UA to speak to Nezu. She and I have been almost inseparable and, sometimes I can convince myself maybe she has feelings for me as well.

She is the schools guidance councilor. Patho is her hero name - but her name is Keri Chairo. Isn’t that a beautiful name? But she’s so young, she’s a year younger than Aizawa, and - well, suffice to say, I am so conflicted on what to do.

What would you do?

I’ll continue to keep you updated on what’s happening with my young pupil.

Sincerely Yours, Toshinori Yagi

“So,” he smirked, “Toshinori has found himself a successor and a woman in such a short time, I’ll have to write back immediately. Poor sap.”

————————

Keri smiled, pouring a cup of tea for Eijiro Kirishima, her first student counseling session of the morning, “How are you feeling this morning, Eijiro?”

The red-headed boy smiled up at her, “I’m feeling okay… a little weary but… I think mostly okay?” He picked up the cup, blowing on it, “Thank you for the tea— you have a really cute office.”

She smiled again and sat back down, “Thank you, so, you’re class is getting a lot of attention, hm?”

“Yeah! We’re like celebrities!” He laughed a little, “But, I dunno…” Patho tilted her head and rested her chin on her hand to listen to him, “I don’t know if I’m ready to be seen like that, helpless in a disaster. It just, it makes me think about when I was in middle school.”

She took a sip of her tea and pushed a plate of cookies toward him, “What do you mean, Eijiro? What happened in middle school?’

“I just,” he paused, clearly still shaken up under his cool facade, “I used to be such a coward, I never helped anyone. And I mean - yesterday? I don't think my stupid quirk helped anyone either.”

Keri smiled softly, her forehead beginning to glow as she sent calming waves toward the teen, “First off, your quirk is certainly not stupid. You just haven’t unlocked its full potential yet is all, that’s what most quirk users lack, the motivation to find out where they fit.”

He sipped his tea, feeling a little better already.

“Also, recognizing you want to be better and to actively take steps to improve yourself into the man you want to be - that’s extremely brave and grown up to do, you know.”

“It… is?” Kirishima blushed.

She nodded, “Of course. Plenty of us pros are scared to death, but we know what we need to rise to become to be heroes, and you definitely understand that already, Eijiro. Most of your classmates probably skated by all their life until now.” She smiled, “When you’re someone without vast amounts of power, you respect and work for it. But those who have always had power? They’ll end up having more work to do on themselves in the long run. So, really, you’re ahead.”

A small, bashful smile came over his face, “You think I’m ahead?”

Keri nodded, “I do.” She took another drink of her tea, “I think you’re a sensitive, sweet, brave guy. Definitely the picture of what it means to be a man - you just keep holding that image of who you want to be in your head, Eijiro, and I know you’ll hone your quirk and do great things.”

His eyes pricked with tears and he grinned, wiping at his eyes, “Miss Keri, you’re the coolest ever… I mean it.”

Giggling gently she smiled, “Would you like to hang out here a little while longer and drink your tea?”

He hummed softly, “Yeah. I really would it that’s okay, Miss.”

“Of course it is, Eijiro - so tell me, who is your favorite hero?”

Grinning he seemed to be shaken our of the small funk he was in, “Crimson Riot! The gentleman hero! He’s so cool and manly and he always does what’s right! I wanna be just like him!” She giggled gently and smiled before he paused, “Who’s your favorite hero, miss Keri?”

She blushed a little and chuckled, “Well, when I was a little girl… I wanted to be just like All Might. I had this doll of him that I carried around everywhere.”

He laughed, “It must be so amazing to get to work with him!”

“Oh… its certainly something alright,” She chuckled.

“You guys are like... really close right? I mean — I heard someone say you were holding hands this morning?” He leaned over and smirked, “Whats the deets?”

Keri blushed and sighed, looking at him, “You are definitely very charming, I’ll give you that. I don’t see any reason why you wont have a sea of groupies when you get your license…”

“You didn’t answer my question!” He pouted.

She smirked, “A woman’s got to have some secrets, hm?”

Huffing he slid down in his seat, finishing his tea, “I guess.”

Laughing softly she stood, “Okay, Eijiro, I think it’s time for you to head back to class. But you come and see me any time you’re feeling down and out - or even if you just need someone to chat with, okay?”

He smiled and picked up his backpack, going to the door, “Thanks Miss Chairo, I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Anytime,” she smiled and waved, closing the door, she sighed, “He’s relatively fine from that — lets see, who’s next—“

She didn’t even need to look at her calendar as the door slammed open, “Why do I keep ending up here, nerd.”

Turning she smiled, “Good morning Katsuki.”

“Tch, whatever Pathological. I passed shitty hair in the hall, so - is he over here like a sap getting his head shrunk and all that?” He crossed over to the fridge, “Can I have some of this milk?”

“Of course,” Keri rolled her eyes with a smile, “Eijiro and I were talking about our favorite heroes.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes as he poured a glass, “Such a waste of time coming out of damn class to shoot the shit. I know who his favorite hero is, and it isn’t All Might. Who he hell’s favorite hero isn’t All Might?”

She smiled a little more, “I mean, you know I’m in agreement with you.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re his little sidekick nowadays. Never see one without the other. It’s annoying. Someone told me you two were holding hands this morning. Never thought All Might would let a dumb girl get in his way.” He took a drink of the milk before going to sit down.

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up?”

“Tch, what are you, dense?” He looked at her in earnest for a moment, “This is all Might we’re talking about, not some extra like Ectoplasm. All Might comes to school holding hands with your dumb ass, of course people are gonna talk.”

“Well then, lets just cut to the point shall we? How are you feeling from yesterday, Katsuki?” “I feel fine. What’s the big deal? This is more a UA problem than a me problem.”

“I just need to check with everyone, especially for the sake of your parents, that you are all going to be alright in the weeks to come, especially with the Sports Festival looming.”

He leaned back on his chair, eating a cookie, since they were there, “Well my parents know I’m fine, I know I’m fine, and I’m gonna win that damn festival.”

She smirked, “Well, good.”

Frowning he put his chair legs back on the floor, ‘Whats that smirk for, dumbass?”

Patho just sighed, “You’re my favorite student, you know that?”

His cheeks lit red and he coughed, “Of course I’m your favorite! I’m the best at everything! Even seeing the guidance councilor! I’m going back to class. These cookies suck.” He chugged the rest of his milk, going to rinse out the glass, “I’m sure there are other extras who need to talk more than me. I don’t need you. You know? I just come up here to humor you.”

“Of course, Katsuki.” She smiled, “Have a good day, alright?”

“I will!” He huffed, still blushing, “and you know- like, you too — DUMBASS.” He practically steamrolled out of the door and she laughed to herself.

She had a ten minute break between appointments now, and so she let her thoughts wander to Toshinori as she cleaned up her office for the next student - Tenya.

#all might x reader #all might x oc #my hero academia #all might #toshinori yagi

23 notes · View notes

spiffyspuffy · 4 years

Text

My Mystic Messenger Opinions

(That no one asked for)

Zen

Character: 8/10 I know a lot of people think Zens annoying but I find him endearing. One of the best things about this game is the complexity of the characters and I love that Zen’s cockiness is actually how he hides his insecurities. Even though he’s egotistical about himself, he’s never shallow with MC. He says multiple times that he doesn’t care about MC’s looks. He loves her for who she is and shows this in how he makes an effort to get to know her and be her cheerleader everyday. An underrated thing about Zen is how emotionally intelligent he is. He’s great at helping the RFA members when they need emotional support (Yoosung’s grief over loosing Rika, Jaehee crying from the stress of her job and MC’s shock at almost being kidnapped).

Route: 2/10 Zen is a great character and he deserves a better route. The false rape accusation plot is horrible and offensive. Also, his route functions as an introduction to the game’s plot, so it’s exposition heavy and lacks action. The creators said that the lesson of his route is that when our insecurities are handled in a healthy way, they can push us to be better people. I love this message and I wish it had been highlighted more in his route.

Romantic Potential: 9/10 Zen is arguably the most dateable of all the characters. He’s a bad boy without being sketchy. He’s protective without being possessive. He’s kind without being a pushover and he’s smart without being pretentious. His biggest drawbacks are his overconfidence and and how busy he is with working. There aren’t any glaring red flags.

~ More under the cut ~

Jeahee

Character: 7/10 I love this adorable theater nerd! She comes across as formal and stuffy at first, but reveals herself to be passionate and funny the more you get to know her. I gave her a lower score because she does have a strong personality that rubs me the wrong way sometimes (her jealousy of MC in Zen’s route, her lack of sympathy towards Jumin in her own route and her general rudeness towards Yoosung). She is the most mature of the RFA though, so her exasperation is warranted. Being mature and grounded also makes Jaehee the least complex Mysme character. I’ve got a lot of respect for her though!

Route: 5/10 Getting to engage in discourse about capitalism and the patriarchy? Amazing and hands down the best part of her route. It’s really inspiring to see Jaehee stand up for herself and choose to follow her dreams. I think it’s important for every young person to hear that they should have a positive work/life balance and demand that their employer supports that. Other highlights are Seven helping Jaehee by making the Power Point presentation for Jumin’s cat project, getting to fangirl with Jaehee over Zen and the creepy stalker plot. I thoroughly enjoy her route and the only reason the score is so low is because some of the other routes are seriously incredible.

Romantic Potential: 8/10 Jeahee doesn’t have any red flags either. I think she’s perfectly capable of having a healthy, romantic relationship with MC. The biggest issue standing in their way is Korea’s bias against lesbian relationships. As a fellow coffee lover and theater enthusiast though, I could definitely see myself or someone similar having a happy life with her, even if it might have to be in secret.

Yoosung

Character: 6/10 I can’t stand people who aren’t competent. Yoosung is a terrible cook, he barely cleans and he doesn’t pay attention to his studies. On top of that, 80% of his personality is that he’s a gamer AND he’s in love with his “dead” adopted cousin. Yuck. ~ But ~ I understand that he’s depressed and depression can seriously effect someone’s executive functioning. Taking all of those negatives away, we’re left with a young man who’s trying to his best to be taken seriously, which is something I can relate to. It’s nice to see imposter syndrome represented and I admire his loyalty to his friends.

Route: 8/10 This route is sooo good! Who can forget the night when the RFA starts being aggressively stalked by Minty Eye? And the pic Zen takes of a believer looking at him through his apartment window...chills. His route only gets better from there when he infiltrates Mint Eye with Seven. This is the first time we get to see the twins interact and damn, is it confusing. But in a good way!! The biggest drawback is that MC is stuck in Rika’s apartment and doesn’t play much of an active role in the story.

Romantic Potential: 7/10 Despite all the negatives I listed about Yoosung, I do think he’s capable of have a healthy, romantic relationship with MC. Yoosung is also the only true sub of the RFA men, which is a definite plus for some players. Yoosung’s yandere side is a huge red flag though. MC better watch out if she doesn’t dote on him as much as he wants. Once he falls for her, he’s all in.

Jumin

Character: 5/10 Unpopular opinion, but I hate Jumin. I understand that he’s some people’s guilty pleasure though. Jumin’s good aspects are that he’s intensely loyal, an animal lover and has a dry sense of humor. I appreciate how devoted he is to the RFA and it’s members. He offers to help Zen multiple times (albeit rejected), sends everyone body guards in his route and pays the hospital in the SE to keep Saeran’s identity top secret. What I’m not a fan of is the way he obsesses over MC and traps her in his house. This isn’t the first time he’s shown obsessive tendencies either. Seven explicitly states that Jumin acted this way with Rika in the past. Huuuge red flag.

Route: 3/10 His entire route is fraught with rich people problems. I’m supposed to sympathize with him for an arranged marriage? All he had to do was say no. His father couldn’t force him. He’s possessive of MC because women have only ever wanted to be with him for his money? Not an excuse. Elizabeth going missing was a vaguely interesting story line, but Jumin’s relationship with his cat was cringey enough to overshadow the drama of it for me.

Romantic Potential: 3/10 Jumin has some serious issues. He’s never had a good female role model which has given him a deep seeded hatred of women. Remember when he tells MC that respecting women goes against his core beliefs? Yikes. Then, after meeting a woman who respects him and he actually likes, he locks her up and tries to change everything about her (cutting her hair, buying her a new wardrobe, teaching her the ‘proper’ way to walk, etc). We’re supposed to believe Jumin learns to be better by the end of his route, but he still proposes to MC after only a week of knowing her! I’m having a hard time picturing Jumin in a healthy relationship.

Saeyoung

Character: 10/10 I’m not saying Saeyoung is a good person. Far from it actually. But he IS very well written and extremely interesting. In the other routes, Saeyoung is energetic and funny, bringing much needed humor to heavy moments. It’s always a joy being in a chatroom with him. Then you have the reveal that he actually hates his job and that he was faking his personality, all to a sad and slowed down version of his theme song. This plot twist shook me to my core. What makes him so well written is that the devs did a good job dropping hints to his real personality in the other routes that players might not notice during their first play through.

Route: 9/10 This route is a wild ride from start to finish. This is when the plot threads from the other routes come together and start make sense. This route has secret agents, assassins, a deadly bomb, kidnapping, an evil twin, a powerful cult... It’s action heavy while still carrying enough emotional weight to make me cry every time. Saeyoung’s route is heavy and emotional and sooo worth playing.

Romantic Potential: 6/10 Saeyoung has a shady job and a complicated past. Choosing to be with him means putting your life in danger every day. If you’re okay with that, he’d be a decent romantic partner. He’s a little rough around the edges, but I do think he has potential to become more like his ideal self (God Seven) after reading his AE. He’ll always have that mean and serious side to him, but I don’t think he’s hopeless.

Character: 4/10 He’s low-key the worst. I sympathize with his trauma from being abused by Rika, but I don’t understand why he feels the need to fix everything by himself. Rika might be the source of most problems in this game, but V is partially responsible for standing by and letting her get away with everything.

My first issue with him comes from encouraging Saeyoung to join the agency. I know Saeyoung didn’t have many options, but how was encouraging him to train to become a hacker and assassin the best option?! On top of that, he stalked Zen per Rika’s request and took creeper photos of him, failed miserably at protecting Saeran and don’t get me started on how he loves Rika unconditionally. V has some good characteristics but I really don’t care about those when he’s so terrible otherwise.

Route: 10/10 This route is *chef’s kiss* the BEST. I wouldn’t call it a romance since Vs barely in it but damn is it riveting. Saeran is the perfect amount of loving and unhinged, MC get’s to know Rika on a personal level and V finally gets to be active instead of just reactive like he is in all the other routes. It’s also satisfying to find out how much V has been keeping secret and to get a glimpse into Rika’s psyche. But what really makes V’s route stand out among the rest is that there are spy action scenes like in Saeyoung’s route, but the player also gets to spend time in Mint Eye.

Romantic Potential: 7/10 I’ll be honest. I don’t think V will ever be able to move on from Rika. He’ll always love her, as evidence in his AE. Besides that drawback, I do think he’d be a good romantic partner for MC. V was never the issue in his past relationship with Rika. She was the abusive one and he was 100% the victim. I think he would treat MC just as well in their relationship as he treated Rika.

Saeran

Character: 7/10 I know I’m not the only one who loved the suave and cunning Saeran of the main routes who, after getting the therapy he needed, became an adorably shy and awkward man. Sadly, that’s not the character we got in AS. Instead, we met Ray, the split personality of Saeran’s psyche. Ray is charming and sweet as well as possessive and manipulative...which is something I’m into. But it’s not for everyone. Saeran’s real personality in AS is revealed to be angry and abusive and not at all similar to who he was in the main routes. I’ll give Cheritz props for writing a fairly accurate portrayal of disassociative identity disorder, but I think Saeran’s characterization is inconsistent. I get the impression Ray was an afterthought when creating AS.

Route: 7/10 A mixed bag for me. I really enjoy any chatroom/scene with Ray. He’s undeniably creepy, but those scenes were entertaining in a dark romance kind of way. On the other hand, the Saeran scenes had a lot of unrealized potential. Abuse is never cool. All his route needed to fix this was a scene where Saeran explained to MC that he was pretending to hate her to appease Rika and the other believers. While this fake hatred is implied, I think it needed to be outright stated. It’s also hard to believe that Saeran overcame his DID in the course of one night. I know all routes are limited to 11 days, but this one needed more. Highlights of this route are Saeyoung being kidnapped by his father and of course, dark Yoosung with Elizabun.

Romantic Potential: 7/10 I truly do believe that Saeran could go on and live a happy life in any of the endings where he escapes Mint Eye and receives therapy. While we only get a glimpse of what an emotionally stable Searan looks like, we know that he was kind and attentive with MC. Saeran is a giver and would do anything to make MC happy. Red flags are that Searan is still clingy at the end of his route. Yoosung makes a comment that he’s always holding MC’s hand when he sees them together. Also, his DID is something that will occasionally return and that’s something MC has to go into their relationship knowing.

69 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

tapestry 👑 XIV

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The reader speaks with the king.

Note: Okay. Tomorrow is an early morning and I dunno if I’ll be posting but hey, 14 days in a row is fine, right? Let’s not worry about that though. We have some royal intrigue ahead of us and I know we’re all impatient but we’re going to have to take our time as it all comes to a head.💋 😉 I know what y’all are really waiting for lol.

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

masterlist

A week ago, you would've resented the king's surveillance. His insistence that you travel with a guard and only under his blessing. You were cloistered in his concern but you could not spurn it. For you were afraid. Truly.

That morning after you supped, you requested a walk of the palace corridors. Marge returned with the king's permission but the guard who stood vigilantly at your door was to accompany you. His sword always at the ready; both alarming and assuring.

The castle was airy as the winter descended upon the new year. You wore a thin cloak over your gown as you traversed the ancient halls. The guard's sword tinkled against his belt as Marge's shivers whispered in your ear. Your own breath mingled with the beating of your heart in an ominous symphony.

You neared the royal corridors along your aimless path and paused just before that which led to Eleanor's chambers. You looked to your escorts and crept a few feet nearer. You turned to look up at the tapestry beside her doors.

The rosettes stuck out from the field and gave lifelike bloom to the grasses. You tilted your head as you took in the expanse of cloth and thread. There it was; that twist of cloth which marked the last day you'd been yourself.

"My lady," Marge said softly. "Are you well?"

"Well enough," You answered as you leaned closer to the wall.

"Should we linger here?" She breathed as the guard gripped his pommel.

"Do you think the queen should emerge and slay me where I stand?" You asked dryly.

Marge frowned and shook her head. You turned away from the fabric and retreated from the corridor.

"Let us continue our walk. Perhaps I should see to my father when he is free of council." You mulled. "Or perhaps we shall return as we were."

Upon the next corner, you heard the noise of approaching footsteps. Your guard stepped before you and slowed. Shadows reflected in lantern light as the figures neared and emerged at the end of the corridor. Your guard relaxed and stood at alert as you bowed in greeting of the unexpected royal.

King T'Challa did not pass though. He instead stopped to greet you, almost as if he knew you.

"Your highness," You said.

"My lady," He nodded to you and smiled. "Do you tarry alone?"

"Alone?" You looked to Marge who looked to the floor shyly. "I have my maid."

"But should you not be in attendance of your queen?" He asked.

"She has pardoned me from her court," You replied carefully. "So I attend to myself."

"Oh," He considered you as thoughts glimmered in his eyes. "Not many queens would tolerate a paramour in her court."

You averted your eyes in shame.

"Do not think I judge you, my lady," He continued. "I am only curious. I hear things and they do intrigue me. They say you are devious and calculating, others allege you to be pious and humble. I suspect they are all true."

"Your highness?" You looked to him.

"You are calculating in that you did heed the king's reputation, devious in that you would withhold any particular leaning to save your own, pious in that you worship your honour, and humble in that you cannot see what a mess you've created." He smiled proudly. "Do not think my words to be unkind, for without even knowing you, I do admire you."

"Admire?" You echoed. "For what?"

"For your resolve. For withstanding a storm that would tear many apart." He said. "My lady, would you be averse to me walking with you?"

"I would not refuse such an offer," You accepted evenly.

"Even now, you maintain your courtesy," He remarked. "And you bide my bald words."

He turned so that he was shoulder to shoulder with you, Marge retreated to walk with the guards. The king awaited your first step and you hesitated before you took it.

"I suppose I cannot find where to disagree with them." You countered.

"Mmm," He hummed thoughtfully. "I do wonder… after all I've heard of you and your snaring of the king. Why, my lady, I might offend you again but you are rather plain for a seductress."

"I am aware," You said stiffly. "Believe me when I say I am just as shocked as any at my circumstance and wholly unprepared."

"And what would prepare you? What should make a lady ready for a king?" He pondered. "Do you think you should be like Queen Eleanor?"

"She is strong. Bred to be a queen." You said. "She is better made for it than me."

"A queen who has sewn discord among her court and without." He looked to you as he spoke. "I am certain you have heard of my pre-standing relationship with the queen."

"I've heard as much as you have of me," You said.

"So you would. She's barely changed since I knew her. Colder, perhaps." He mused. "I thought I did love her until I realized she did not love me."

You lowered your brow as he let his eyes float ahead of him.

"We were betrothed. I'd lived among her family for years. We spent hours a day together and I was quite taken by her. As any boy would be.

“But when I was recalled home and war loomed over us, I did swear to her I would appease my father so that we may still marry. So that we could one day rule over our kingdoms peacefully. Together."

He paused and let out a long breath. "She told me she could not wait to be my queen and I thought she meant it. The next I heard of her, she'd set sail for another prince."

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked.

"Because I am certain you know how Eleanor can be. One moment she is your friend and the next, she's not."

He stopped and turned to you as you struggled not to trip on your skirts.

"Eleanor's spies learned of my visit the day before I reached the capital. She did try to have them keep me from my arrival. She failed." He shook his head as a wistful air came over him. "I do not trust your king either but he has yet to betray me as Eleanor did. In so much as I can fathom it, she has betrayed us both."

"And so what? You seek kinship with him? A shared loathing?"

"I intend to rescue my reputation which has so long been stained by Eleanor and what she has done to me." His jaw set as he held his shoulders high. "I seek to repay the queen in kind."

"And what would be my role in all this?" You asked.

"Your role is at has been. If you remain as you are, you might just get out of this alive." He looked to his guard and nodded. "My lady, I shall leave you to your path as mine would diverge here, thought I am certain they will meet again."

He bowed his head and you returned the courtesy. He smiled kindly and turned sharply on his heel. You watched him go. You were stuck in place as the thoughts flurried in your head. Those which hadn't ceased for days now. Though this king had added to the list.

As he disappeared around the next corner, you wondered if he offered you advice or issued you a threat.

👑

That night, you went to the king to sup. His invitation had been firm and without refusal. Since the servant boy's demise, he was ever more insistent. Ever more demanding. Often, you found his presence overbearing; at one moment, entirely inflamed in his anger and the next consumed by his affections.

When his doors were opened to you, you stepped within nervously. You still weren’t used to his chambers. The skin carpet before the heart, the large desk that loomed before the window, the twin tapestries along the east and west walls, and the grated candelabrum which hung from the ceiling.

Hugh remained and the replacement for the royal taster. This one lanky and blond, almost fearful as he but into the food. You couldn't blame him for as you watched him, you saw the red-headed boy open your carpet. Though this one did not keel over.

You sat across from the king as he ate with one hand and in the other shuffled through sheets of parchment. His blue eyes were vigilant as if the letters would move should he look away.

You watched him as you ate. He rubbed his eyes as he set aside a page and leaned back. The wrinkles left his brow as he looked to you.

"I am happy to see you eating, my lady," He said. "You seem not so wary."

“I remain cautious," You assured him. "As this court remains treacherous."

"Oh, but we should search out the snake that does hide in the branches and drain its venom before its fangs should sink too deep."

"May I ask…" You began and caught yourself. "I dare not."

"Well, you've begun so you may." He drank from his wine and picked at his plate.

"I do worry at the presence of the Wakandan king. Of what should precipitate such a spontaneous invitation."

"You should worry of the presence which remained without invitation," He took another bite and wiped his mouth. "Of one who wishes you harm. Perhaps even wishes it upon myself."

"Then…" You began tentatively and he tilted his head. "Would it be wiser to send me away until they are found out? Until these ill tides wash over?"

"Send you away?" He sat back so heavily his chair wobbled. "So that they may have you upon your own. May see you vulnerable and far away."

"I would not be alone. I would see my mother and sister." You argued. "They have a household, and security of their own. Edward does keep my sister well looked after."

"No, you are safe here. With me." He snarled. "You are safest close to me and I will not, cannot, be without you."

"Your highness," You reached to him and placed your hand on his. "I am afraid."

"I know, I know," He softened and turned his hand to grip yours. "But I shall see you safe, my lady. My love." He tugged until you rose and pulled you to stand before him. "For I fear for you too and that drives me to see that you are kept well."

"Your highness," You lowered your lashes, "I thank you for your care but ask that you do consider my request further."

"I shall consider it," His hand trailed along your bodice and he played with the braided belt at your waist. "But you will not leave me. Ever."

"And will you answer my first question?" You asked as he took your hand again and admired it.

"You are in need of rings," He commented. "Rubies. Maybe a sapphire."

"You elude me again." You accused.

"I do not elude, only delay…" He looked up at you, "Because I cannot help but admire you."

"Well, then I await an answer, your highness," You said.

"Sit," He drew you between his knees and sat back. "And I shall tell you then."

You looked at him. He grinned and watched you patiently. You turned and lowered yourself into his leg. Your skirts fanned put around you both. You found, as Rose advised, to appease him was easy and most times, convenient.

His hand hovered along your back and he beamed up at you.

"You asked why the Wakandan king should be here. You are clever and you see beyond my courtly explanations. A good omen for your future." He preened.

"I saw the queen's reaction as did many others." You said. "I saw her discomfort, her unhappiness deeper than before."

"So you can guess that she knows the king." Steven led you. "And that he does threaten her current position."

"I see not how he could intimidate her," You baited as you blinked in a show of confusion. "She is a queen, he is a king. They are of separate kingdoms, ordained in their own right."

"Oh, you are young and, despite your wisdom, still naive," His hand spread over your hip and squeezed. "The queen does put herself in a perilous position so that she may be easily toppled.

"And she is aware of it so she fears any. King T'Challa, me, you. And behind her paranoia is guilt, though that has yet to come to light. Though I do peer into the dark."

"And what shall the people think?" You asked.

"What I tell them to think. What the truth tells them to think." His arm was full against you as his hand was tight along your side. "They want a queen who loves them. A queen who is kind. A queen who can give them hope… an heir."

"Eleanor is young still." You argued.

"She has been young for many years and she does not quicken. She would say I strayed far too much to see to an heir but I laid with her as much as any woman." His eyes bore into you as his other hand fluttered along your thigh."But this past year, she does not yield to me. She does not even try."

"And you've gone to her?"

"Not in some time but only for when I dared to visit she did bicker with me." He sighed. "I could have not begot and heir if I'd tried, she does hate me so."

"And you would try no further?" You prodded.

"She would not let me and there is not to try for. " He grieved. "An heir must be lawful or he may not sit the throne."

You held his eye then looked to your hands as they clung to each other. His hand closed on your skirts and he squeezed your thigh through the layers. You winced and raised your head.

He was aflame as he leaned in. His arm snaked up your back as he grabbed your head and pressed his lips to yours. You pushed on his chest as he kissed you. He did not relent until you were out of breath.

"Your highness," You breathed but stayed in his lap, too afraid to move.

"I… must have you." He purred.

"We cannot--"

His arms cradled you suddenly and he stood with you aloft. You clung to him to keep from slipping, dizzy from the sudden movement. He kissed you again as he walked blindly around his chair. You squirmed and he hummed onto your mouth.

When he parted, you gasped, your cheeks burned. "It would not be lawful. As you said…"

"Hugh, you may leave us." He said.

"Your highness," You pleaded as Hugh started for the door. "Please. You would ruin us both. Have we not waited this long?"

The king took you to the couch and laid you down beneath him as you struggled. He had you pinned, his hand around your chin. He snarled at you, his nose almost touched yours.

"We do not wait on your accord anymore, my lady," He rasped. "I am your king. Do you feel how easy it would be? How simply I could have you?"

"I do," You gulped as he crushed you under him. He forced his knee between yours as you shoved on his shoulders weakly. Hugh's footsteps continued. "I do. Would you? For one night? For if you do that's all it could be."

He smirked and rubbed his nose against yours. "Hugh, you may remain," He said as he removed himself from you. "Let you be witness to our shared abstinence."

His voice was dull and irritated. You pushed yourself up and drew your legs away from him as he sat back entirely. You felt almost hurt by his demeanour as his blue eyes stared at the carpet and he moped.

"Your highness," You said softly but he didn't respond. "Steven?"

His lashes flicked and he looked to you. The tension left his jaw and he nodded.

"I'm...sorry."

"I am, too," He said as he took your hand. "But you are right. This will be over soon and we cannot spoil it in a single evening."

#tapestry #Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #medieval au #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #mcu #marvel #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes

939 notes · View notes

zeldasayer · 4 years

Text

Loving Din XI - Afterlife

Pairing: Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Din is hanging on by a thread but you can’t let this exquisite love just go to waste.

Warnings: ANGST. Language, confessions of hopelessness, mom & dad please don’t fight.

gif by @djjarindin

“After this, can it last another night? After all the bad advice that had nothing at all to do with life, I’ve gotta know -

Can we work it out?”

“How long has it been?”

“Since?” You ask the hologram of your therapist, Nora, in the living room, as you sit cross legged on the couch in a red sundress. You know what she’s asking but you need to hear her to say it. In case it hasn’t been true.

“Since Din moved out.” She clarifies.

“Just over five months.” You nod slowly, looking down to focus on your fidgeting fingers.

“Do you miss him?” The hologram asks.

“Only when I’m awake.” You smile meekly, your eyes still down. “Or when I’m asleep. Or eating. Or playing with Baby in the ocean.”

“Have you told him this?” She asks slowly.

“No.” You answer flatly.

“Why not?”

“I guess,” You sigh, finally looking up. “It ended so badly. I guess I’m scared he won’t feel the same.”

“Do you believe that to be true?”

“No, but I also never believed we’d be a part at all.”

“Obviously I cannot get into any details of our sessions, but Din is making the same progress as you and Baby.” Nora was your father’s trusted therapist and he was so graciously arranging for you and Din to see her separately and teaching Din tools in how to help Baby trust him again.

You smile, meaning it whole heartedly, and you look back down from the truth of your words. “I’m so glad. Even if we don’t work out, I’m happy he’s finally opening up to someone. He deserves the weight of his past lifted from him”

It got worse before it got better.

Your emptiness melted into rage as you realized you were truly alone. The man who you stood by and filled with hope while he found his place in the galaxy was nowhere to be found now that you’ve lost your way in it. Gone was the man who so softly declared you as the most exquisite woman to ever walk the planet, the most beautiful moon he’s ever known, who found strength in your decision to be delicate despite everything that happened to you and you hadn’t the slightest clue where he went. Din went quiet again. He became calculated, like he thought through every word he said before he said it, every movement before it was made - not to protect you but because he was tired of fighting. Like you, he retreated inward and only came out to help with Baby despite his frustrations. You were two children of existing, not living and you somehow wound up back there again.

You hoped every day that Din would see himself in you, that he’d realize this is what you had to do with him at the beginning, but the moment never came. You would’ve died to help Din find his identity beyond the mask, and now he sleeps with his back to you.

Some nights you wanted to reach out and touch him, trace your fingers along his back, just for the reminder that he is real. Maybe he’d wake and pull you close to him so you could trace your fingers along his chest and match your breathing to his and everything would feel like it used to. But something always held you back.

Din Djarin wasn’t a man who could handle losing control. What made it twice as hard was that he brought it on himself, and in the process crushed the one precious flower he swore he’d never hurt. How could he? The one human being who knew everything about him and didn’t even blink at what he was ashamed of. Who ran her fingers through his hair and told him she would keep him safe when he thought he’d be haunted for the rest of his life.

“We can only haunt ourselves.” You cooed to him before kissing his nose and he carried that sentiment with him everywhere. He believed it until now, for he cannot get the look in your eyes when you told him you were ready to become the ocean out of his mind. It’s burned into his brain and he knows he’s being haunted because he can’t make himself speak.

Din Djarin was the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy but he is too weak to tell the absolute love of his life that he is just as scared as her. That he is haunted every waking moment by how he destroyed their sanctuary, altering their lives forever. He wants to tell you that he sees you and that he’s sorry, that he wants to take the pain away and if he could, he’d feel it for you, but he doesn’t know how. Every familiar feeling of being touch starved, alone in the galaxy returns to him at once and he indulges in them in silence. Din never knew what he did to deserve you and just like he feared, it imploded. You were too good, too beautiful, delicate, loving, patient, ethereal and he ruined you with his dirty hands.

Most nights Din would sit up in the cockpit of the Razor Crest before returning to the bungalow so mad because you lied. We are haunted by more than just ourselves, we are haunted by the memories of the ones we love the most. Din smashed his fist into the dashboard. Once. Twice. Until something sparked because the memories won’t stop playing over in his head. You, smiling in his lap shortly after you met, pressing every button in the ship that would light up. Him snorting with laughter as he pulled you against him.

“You’re just like the kid!” He said into your neck and you giggled holding onto his arms.

“Teach me how to fly this thing, rocket man.” You beamed.

Your faces were younger then but you loved each other with such an unspeakable passion that you believed even then that it could never die. So how could he ever forgive himself for turning that dreamy look in your eye to stone? The same look that made him less afraid and so achingly happy to be alive. Especially when he has resorted to silence in a feeble effort to not make everything worse, for he sees himself in you. And all he wants to do is hold you by the shoulders and say “You are so much like me, I’m sorry.” But that wouldn’t help anyone.

One evening when Din hadn’t return from his classes on time, you left Baby with a bowl of soup on the couch and snuck into your bedroom. Your heart raced as you sat on the ground, connecting the comm to your father.

“Hi d-ad.” Your voice cracked when you saw him.

“What’s wrong, my star?” He noticed right away.

“I don’t feel so good.” You said through ragged breath, bringing your hand to your eyes.

“Are you sick?”

“A little.” You said with a sniff, removing your hand and looking down. “I have all this pain. It’s crushing me, dad.”

Stark sits up and his eyes search you in worry, “Are you safe, my star?”

“Yes, dad. I’m safe.”

“Are you dreaming of the ocean again?”

“Yeah.” You said as tears stream down your face, as it can be so hard to be seen. “I feel like I’m suffocating. Like I’m not going to make it.”

“Where is Din?” he asked.

“Um.” Your lip trembles and now it feels like you may really be dying, “I don’t know if we’re going to make it either.”

Stark sighs. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You shrug. “I don’t know who he is anymore. But I guess I don’t know who I am either. It’s like I miss him, but he’s always right there, like he’s part of what’s hurting me.”

Your father nods. “What can I do to help?”

“Do you still have Nora’s information?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” you sniff, wiping your hand down your face. “Nothing is ever going to change if I keep running in circles, right?”

You look down as your eyes immediately well with tears again.

“I’m proud of you, my star. I promise, this is the hardest part. You can only go up from here.”

You nodded, starting to cry again.

“Madden & I shall leave at once. We will help you with Baby and I’ll set up a meeting between you and Nora. You are the brightest star in the sky and you will shine again, my child.”

“Thanks dad.” You cried. “Just not yet, okay? I haven’t even told Din yet.”

“Told him what?” He asked.

“That I need to do this on my own.”

Din did not take it lightly.

“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded and your attention turned to Baby who’s ears rose at his fathers angered voice.

“He’s going to throw you across the room again.” You said through your teeth.

“Right. Of course.” Din said, rubbing his eyes. “Should we go outside?”

“Fine.” You sighed. Din always took you outside when he was ready to fight. Baby couldn’t hear you over the crashing waves.

You followed him out the back door and he turns around as soon as it closed with you both on the other side, “You know this is so typical you.”

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“You’re always so fucking lonely yet you push everyone away.”

You laughed, “Oh that’s so rich coming from you, Din.”

“Is it?!” He nodded.

“Mr. I Don’t Need Anyone Until I’m About To Lose Fucking! Everything!” You seethed as your voice already felt hoarse.

“OH!” Din exclaims, “I’m going to lose everything huh?”

“If you don’t let me take care of myself, yes. LOOK AT ME.” You cry. “I’M A FUCKING GHOST. AND SO ARE YOU.”

“AT LEAST I WONT FUCKING WALK OUT ON YOU.”

“I’m not walking out on you!” You screeched, in a tone of your own voice you didn’t recognize. “What are you not understanding? Din, my head feels like it’s going to explode and you won’t help me so I need to do this myself.”

“Sorry I can’t help, we do have a son to raise.”

“What the fuck? Who are you?” You asked in disgust as you crossed your arms and walked past him.

You walked only a few steps until you decided to say exactly how you felt.

“Do you know what you were like when I found you?” You spat.

“I found you.” Din said lowly.

“It doesn’t matter. Loving you was like loving a brick wall. It was so hard, Din. But I did it. I helped you raise your son and I held your hand while you figured out who the hell you were. And I did it all without you telling me what you needed, and I figured it out because I loved you. I would have done anything for you. Now I’m standing here screaming to you what I need and you won’t fucking help me.”

“What do you want from me?!” Din asked, his arms out in defeat.

“Have you been listening to me?! Get out of my face and get out of my fucking house!” You screamed.

“Your house?!”

“You are not doing this shit with me right now. You have a ship and I make more credits on one goddamn painting than you do in months.” You scoffed.

“You haven’t painted anything good enough to sell in half a year!”

“Because you’re killing me, Din!” You cried back immediately. Slapping your hand across your mouth from the truth of the words you let escape. Your other hand comes up to cradle the first and they’re both shaking.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. “This isn’t us.”

Din shakes his head slowly.

“Please Din, If you love me, you’ll let me do this.”

It was hard at first. Din and you agreed to four days at a time with Baby, Din living in Razor Crest on the other side of town. The first night you spent alone, you slept on the floor of Baby’s room. It was as far as you could crawl to when you told Din to “Just leave, he’s not going to stop.” and closed the door on him and your son who was crying for you.

It hurt to wake up to the quiet, to eat alone, paint alone. Your first session with Nora was even more of a disaster and you started to wonder if you made the right decision. The only thing you took away from it was her saying, “It hurts to become.” And this is what you chose to believe in, that this pain and uncertainty would be worth it. That when the rain washed you and Din clean, you’d know.

It hurt when Din wouldnt even look at you, how he didn’t even say a word when he first dropped off Baby. How you slid down the door and cried with Baby in your arms as he tried to heal something that he couldn’t.

But time keeps passing wether you’re ready or not and one day you just stop hurting. You don’t know why, or when the exact moment hits until you look up and you realize you’re breathing. You’re breathing and you’re sleeping through the night and it’s something to celebrate like a new born baby. You’re breathing and sleeping and eating properly. You can taste everything, your tea and pomegranates. Dark chocolate and crusty sourdough bread. You open up to Nora, finally and she takes you all the way back to your childhood. You’ve made your first friends as an adult and you realize how important that is, other women who live close by on the island and they are so wonderful. You’re painting, you’re painting incredible work and you’ve rearranged the whole house so it’s yours. Baby sleeps on his own and he’s happy, you’re in a routine and when Din comes to pick him up it doesn’t destroy you. Suddenly, you have a new normal. You are truly alright and you are so proud of yourself but something is missing. You still want to share every moment of your new normal with Din. Though you can get lost in your mind and it can scream so loud, there is stillness inside of you, every sunset you’ve ever seen and you were born to be a lover, and there is still only one person for you.

Later in the afternoon, long after your session with Nora, when you open the door for Din who’s back again to drop Baby off, you notice instantly that he has a beard. It’s patchy and it makes you smile, it looks soft and it’s greying at the sides and it makes you want to blurt out that you miss him. But you ask Baby how his day was instead.

“Wanna show mom what you learned?” Din asks his little green boy as he puts him in your arms, “Okay.”

Din makes a few small movements with his hands, and Baby copies them, slower and loose before looking up at you with a smile.

“It means ‘I love you.’” He mumbles, looking down.

You blink up at him and it feels like you must have forgotten how to breathe. It’s been so long since you heard those words pass through Din’s lips and it feels like the very first time.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask, your voice almost a whisper.

He looks a little puzzled and you continue, “I made dinner.”

Din’s mouth presses into a line, like he’s trying to suppress a smile. “Yeah. I would.”

“I like this.” You say, brushing the back of your finger along his jaw, letting him pass through the doorway, “You’re greying.”

“You just noticed now?”

“Yeah.” You sigh, “I guess so.”

Din sits across from you at the table you dragged out on to the beach a few months earlier and it feels like just how you always wanted life on the island to be. Baby in your lap, cackling into his dinner as the ocean crashes softly into the shore. Din smiling between bites of food and the sun reflecting off his skin makes him look so beautiful. You feel the breeze against your face and you want to live in this moment forever. Passing Baby between the two of you to take turns feeding him, the comfort in realizing you are both still exactly the same yet lighter. It’s like the afterlife between the bad and the inevitable try for resolution when you can just be alright. When everything is finally still and there is sweetness in the familiar small talk and how Din wears his t-shirt and thick black framed eyeglasses, the soft curls of his hair, and the exquisite angle of his nose. It’s like he’s coming back into focus again for the first time in months and you look down from how it overwhelms you.

As always, Baby falls asleep in Din’s lap before you’re finished and when you return to the beach from putting him to bed, Din tells you he should probably get going. He stands and your heart stops.

“Are you going because you want to or because you think you have to?”

“I don’t want to.” He shakes his head.

“Then don’t go.” You say out of breath.

Din sits back down without breaking his eye contact with you and you follow suit. You search his face for a moment unable to hold back.

“Din, I’m sorry.”

“No.” Din shakes his head but you continue.

“We were obviously never destined to be ordinary people and though I truly feel that this time a part was necessary, it just made me realize I don’t want to have these extraordinary problems with anyone else.”

“Please don’t be sorry.” Din shakes his head, closing his eyes. “I said I would be the ground beneath your feet and I wasn’t there for you.”

You smile meekly, “I miss you, Din. It’s always going to be you.”

“I miss you too.” He pauses. “I feel like I’ve learnt so much lately, and I have something to say to you. Is that okay?”

“Of course.” You breathe.

“Okay.” He nods. “I spent my whole life thinking that I was doing all that I could, that I’d never love my own face let alone love someone else. Then I met you and you brought me to life. You brought me to life, Y/N. I had seen the whole galaxy but now I was finally living in it because I was seeing it through your eyes. It was like I had everything. But I got too selfish with you. I thought since you were my home I could take you anywhere and we’d be okay, forgetting that your home is consistency and trust.”

“It’s okay, Din.” You sigh.

“No it’s not.” He shakes his head. “All you ever did was love me exactly how I needed it, like you just knew. And I ruined our home because all I needed was you.”

You look down, at a loss for words.

“You shouldn’t be sorry because I should be begging for your forgiveness. You loved me despite everything and I was too ashamed to say I was so scared of what I had done. I can’t lose you, Y/N. The sun does not rise and set for you because you are the sun. You are the sun. You are the moon. You are every star in the sky. You are everything. Please forgive me for what I’ve done.”

You look up at him, through the blurry vision of tear-filled eyes. “I forgive you, Din.”

“Thank you.” He chokes into the top of your hand, as he’s taken it to press his lips against. “Thank you, my sweet girl.”

You smile through your tears and you come around to his side of the table and Din pulls you into his lap.

“I love you so much.” He says into your neck as he holds you against him tightly, adjusting his arms to get you closer.

“I love you, too.” You run your hand through his hair, like you’ve wanted to for so long and Din lifts his face with your touch.

You see him. The face that looked so familiar even when you first saw it. The skin so breathtaking it makes you cry. The mouth you could watch speak into eternity with a voice that can move mountains. The nose that looks like it was carved from marble by an angel’s delicate hands. And the eyes. The eyes so full of love and loss they could stop any war, so deep and dark you could swim in them forever.

You hold his face in your hands and you are so full of joy because you can finally see him.

“There you are.” You whisper before pressing your lips to his, melting in the familiarity of his moustache brushing your skin.

Tags: @otherthingsinhead @aeryntheofficial @maryan028 @readsalot73 @osric-the-l3m0n-l0v3-demon @capsironunderoos @antclottz @intense-sneezing @igotmadskills @applesislife @marrvelle-fics @killtherandomness @holyground1996 @taoiichii @kyoko-yuuki @bookwormmarvel @xplrreylo @the-resident-demon @sad-anxious-girl @jaegers-and-kaijus @drinkfantasy @forbidden-darkness @hyveee @fangirlfreakingout @petalduck @fahhhhq @thatonebishsstuff @midnightsinger @jenniferdaniels12 @hiscyarika @tryn25 @raveviolet @watsonwise @aproperthottie @lettonystarkbehappydamnit @hyunjins-wife @lilwickedred @yellowbubblewrap @pascalisthepunkest @kate013 @french-lace-lavender

It’s all fluff and beauty from here on out. 4 more parts to go.

Love, Zelda

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian angst #the mandalorian fluff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the mandalorian x reader #baby yoda #star wars fluff #star wars #star wars fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin #loving din

462 notes · View notes

groovybaybee · 4 years

Text

Greener - IV

I, II, III

(4k)

cw: mentions of abuse (nothing too intense but better safe than sorry), alcohol consumption

I am in the ocean. The water is warm and comforting as it hugs up against me with each gentle wave. It is calm and peaceful and in turn I am calm. I am in the ocean and I am calm.

You’re in your kitchen.

“Fuck off,” I whisper, eyes squeezed tightly shut as if they could shield me from the reality of the voice in my head.

I am in the ocean.

BUZZ

I ignore it.

I am in—

BUZZ

With a deep exhale, I open my eyes and face the brutal reality that the unkind voice lingering in my brain had been right. I am in my kitchen. The bright smiling faces tacked to the walls seem to mock me as I desperately try to regulate the rise and fall of my chest. My lungs unaware that I am not in the middle of a hundred-metre sprint and can probably relax a little.

Against my better judgment, I pick up the phone that had caused me to spiral in the first place. Quickly, I close Twitter, wishing I had never let myself fall down the thread of comments. I had known it would only cause me to panic but, almost masochistically, I did it anyway.

Thought I was supposed to be the one organising collaborations with big artists?? Nice work kiddo. Response to the video is pretty good so I can look into booking some studio sessions…

My focus falls away from my manager’s message. Of course, he saw this as a positive thing. It is a positive thing, really. Only a crazy person would find discomfort in their dream career being boosted along. This is the kind of thing I have always wanted. I want to make music. I want to have people see me and connect with me. But now that the opportunity is there all that I feel is fear.

You always were ungrateful.

For once, I do not try to argue with the bad part of my brain. I am ungrateful. How could someone get what they want and find reasons to still be the victim? I do not deserve any of this. How could I, in the sea of so many, be lucky enough to find traction in this industry? Yet all I want to do is run.

It is not even as though all of the new feedback is negative. To a degree, it would be understandable to want to run away were that the case. No, people were actually incredibly supportive of Harry and I’s impromptu duet. Complimentary even. I should be jumping for joy, but instead I find myself clutching for the countertop beneath me to tether me to the Earth.

Instinctively, I reach for my phone again, quickly dialling the first number I can think to.

“Hello lovely lady,” Lucy answers brightly.

“Luce,” I gasp, mouth remaining open but unable to find the words as my throat seems to tighten up.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, suddenly serious and I can picture her sat bolt upright. When I can’t formulate a reply, she speaks for me, “Are you at home? I’ll come over.”

“Yeah.” I manage to breathe out.

Time seems to warp as I listen to the background noise of Lucy buckling herself into her car and taking the short trip to my house. Only when I hear her set of keys in the lock do I hang up the call, something about her presence comforting me even through the phone.

“Let’s sit down, yeah?” Lucy says when she sees my face, undoubtedly wide-eyed as gravely breathes pass quickly between my lips.

She places a hand on my back and eases me away from the counter until my body meets the soft embrace of the sofa.

“Count to ten with me?”

Her voice is gentle and reassuring as she watches me, no doubt assessing how severe my state is and which battleplan she needs to access in order to help me calm down.

When I nod, she waits for me to utter a shaky and broken, “One,” before repeating it and moving from the sofa.

“Two,” she encourages.

She opens a window and moves back to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water as I reach “Four.”

We count together until we reach ten. Not unlike the other times we have done this, she waits for a moment as she observes if I need to start again, or if I am suitably calm enough for her to move on to the next step in her care plan. Deciding on the latter, she passes me the glass of water.

Gratefully, I take a slow sip.

“Want to talk or want distracting?”

“I feel…” I start quietly, uncertain as a sigh passes my lips, “I feel ungrateful and a bit overwhelmed.”

Lucy just nods. No judgment in her gaze as she digests my words. They dissipate into the air of the living room, sinking into the furniture and slipping under the tape of the unopened moving box in the corner.

“Is this about the video? Because if it is I’m so sorry for posting it, I just thought you two sounded so good and fit so great together and maybe you’d get a bit more recognition which you deserve completely and—”

“Lu,” I sigh with a small smile as she rambles apologetically. I pull her into a hug which neither of us expect. “I love you so much. You always know what’s right and you go out and do it. I’m just a bit batshit at the minute and can’t accept the good in things.”

“I love you.” Lucy mutters into my hair.

We sit for a while, arms wrapped tightly around one another, swaying slightly. Neither of us want to be the first to move, simultaneously needing to provide comfort and bathe in it. A smile fixes itself on my lips, one Lucy has always been capable of coaxing from me, even during my worst nights. But that is exactly the reason the smile carves its way on to my cheeks; it’s us. It has always been Lucy and me and it will be Lucy and me until our arms can’t hug and our lungs can’t laugh.

“I think,” I say softly, resentfully pulling away from our embrace, “it’s time to go through his stuff.”

Lucy nods, eyes a little watery. She sniffles once and that is enough to settle her.

“Shall I get wine?”

I cannot help the small bubble of laughter that bursts between my lips, but I nod, nonetheless. We move to set about our own tasks; Lucy gets a bottle of Shiraz and pours two glasses as I pull the, ever so slightly dusty, cardboard box into the centre of the room and peel away the tape sealing it.

I wait for her to return before opening the flaps, needing her next to me more than I could ever admit. Not that I would have to. She gives me a reassuring squeeze on the arm when she notices my sharp intake of air.

No going back. I force myself to believe that and open the box.

Peering into the box, it is less full than I remember, and that in itself pushes me along. On the top, lay a few t-shirts he did not come to collect. I place them in a pile on the living room floor, mentally noting it as one to donate. Beneath the shirts are a collection of photographs, some loose and some framed. Lucy stills beside me, nervously awaiting my tears. They would not come just yet. I remember placing the most upsetting things at the bottom. My heart clenches at the thought of seeing them again, but I push ahead.

I flick through the photographs, placing the newly empty frames to the other side of the box. It is not nearly as saddening as I had expected. Being able to pass over a timeline of our relationship is almost cathartic, knowing that I do not have to wait weeks and months between these happy memories captured in film.

“I loved that jacket.” Lucy says softly as we peer at a picture of my ex-boyfriend and I at the beach one night.

“So did I,” I smile, fingers running lightly over the glossy image, a bright red faux leather jacket which matched my painted smile. “Will didn’t.”

Lucy’s body slumps beside me and I feel the angry starting to stir inside of her. I put the stack of photos on the floor, deciding not to keep any, and peak back into the box. I can hardly help the laugh that rises from my chest when I see the next item. Not from joy, but from its sheer ridiculousness. My hands reach into the cardboard and pull from it a bathroom scale.

“You know,” I start, sadness and amusement mingling in my chest, “he fixed these, so I was always ten pounds heavier.”

Unable to see the dark humour that I do, Lucy’s eyebrows knit together furiously, teeth biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep her from screaming obscenities.

I place the scale down on the ground before reaching in to retrieve the last item in the box. The second my fingertips touch the tape, the smile erases from my face.

Deep breath in.

Lifting the final photograph from the box, my heart breaks yet again. The memories from that night flush my mind, my whole body quickly covering in goosebumps in an attempt at defence.

Lucy is silent next to me, waiting for me to say something or react at all. I bring the image closer, throat drying a little more with each inch it nears. I gulp harshly, desperate for some of the moisture collecting at my eyes to travel to my mouth.

I stare down at the picture of myself in my parents’ garden, mum and dad on either side of me, the three of us beaming uncontrollably. We were happy and excited, I was moving to Los Angeles in a few weeks, completely uncertain if I would be able to make my dream into my career.

Turning the photograph over is what send tears falling.

Our sweet Violet,

Words cannot describe how proud we are of you. You are so brave it makes us question if you were adopted without us knowing. You have always been your own person and that is what makes you so very special. It is also the reason that we know you will succeed no matter what you do. You are a wonder. Go forward and show the world.

So much love,

Your biggest fans xx

The words are beautiful, so sweet and encouraging that reading them now makes me feel a fraud. Tracing my thumb over the lines of tape holding the fragments of the photo together, a gentle sob erupts from inside me. The torn object makes my heart ache enough to think it were trying to mirror it.

“This was the day I left him,” I manage to force out between sniffs and sobs. “When he ripped this… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Reliving my breaking point is something I often find myself doing, experiencing the extreme high of my first ever headlining show, and subsequent extreme low when Will pointed out how unflattering the stage lights were. He took that night from me, stole its joy and tried to grind me back down to a level beneath him.

I cry hard into Lucy’s shoulder, not caring right now that I was ruining her t-shirt. She does not seem to care either, instead just rubbing my back soothingly and letting me get out the emotions I have kept locked away for so long.

It is only when I feel Lucy’s body shaking against mine that I pull myself away. My tears stop the second I see hers falling.

“I’m so sorry.” She gets out, eyes bloodshot as deep but silent sobs wrack her body.

“It’s okay.” I coo, hating seeing my best friend cry more than any object in that box.

“It’s not. I’m supposed to protect you and I didn’t see what he was doing to you.” She is starting to hyperventilate as the tears fall faster and heavier now.

“Hey,” I whisper, placing a hand either side of her head to get her to focus on me and really listen, “No one did, not even me.” My voice cracks slightly at the admission, but it is what we both need to hear in order to forgive ourselves even the smallest amount.

Our breathing regulates, the tears start to dry, and I look back to the image with a fond memory.

“Do you remember the day we left?”

Lucy gives me a breathy and snotty but genuine laugh. “Yeah. Mum packed me about five boxes of chocolate fingers.”

“And they wouldn’t let us go through security with them so we had to stand and eat as many as we could.”

We share a laugh at the fond memory, glad to remember ourselves so sweet and naïve.

I pick up an empty frame from the floor, slipping the taped-up photograph inside and set it on the coffee table.

“I’m not letting him have any more of me.”

She nods and we sit for a moment.

“Thank you for always being next to me.” I say, a lump forming in my throat yet again, however this time, my heart swells instead of breaking.

“You and me.” She says with a soft, slightly teary smile as she extends a pinky finger for me to connect with. Of course, I do.

* * *

“He said he wants to talk when he’s back from New York.” Lucy tells me nervously as she stares down at her phone.

“Could be a good thing.” I argue, reaching out my hand to lift my nearly empty wine glass from the coffee table. I bring it to my lips carefully, my laying position on the sofa not aiding my slightly messy actions.

“I don’t know, he got funny the other day when I left his place.” Lucy mutters, gulping at her newly replenished glass.

“Luce, I’m going to be completely honest with you.” I say, sitting upright and trying to avoid the urge to hiccup as I move. “I think he likes you, and I think you like him too… and I think that scares you a bit.”

Lucy pauses, chewing on my words before responding with a sigh, “I think you’re right.”

“When aren’t I?” I tease, earning an eye roll, “Seriously though, Joseph is great, and he would take care of you.”

“That’s scary.” Lucy whispers to herself more than me, “What do I do if I’m not the one looking after people?”

“You’ll always have to look after me.” I joke, squeezing her knee lightly.

“That’s what I got Harry for.” She teases, unknowingly making my stomach squeeze just at the mention of him. “What?” she laughs, noticing my sudden silence.

I tell her everything. Running her through every moment with Harry, from our first date excitement, to accidentally on purpose friend-zoning him, to breaking the surface on my past relationship. As I describe each of our encounters, I recognise the lightness in my chest when I speak his name. Each small interaction I recall seems to stoke the embers in my chest, burning hot and steadily as I catch her up.

“I think you like him but you’re afraid.” Lucy repeats my own advice back to me with a smug smirk.

“Wouldn’t you be?” I defend.

“Oh definitely, but if you like him why are you waiting around. Be brave.” Her voice is so calm and matter of fact that her words seem nothing but logical, all my excuses flying out the window as I let her advice sink in.

Except for one.

“I don’t think he likes me like that, maybe he did at the start… but not anymore.”

“You can’t know that unless you ask him.” She replies, again as if it’s the most blatant thing in the world. Which I suppose it is.

Maybe I should be brave. I look to the newly framed photograph and find my answer. Maybe I will be.

* * *

Lucy made me text Harry that night before she left. He replied before I had finished locking the front door.

Yesss are you free Friday? I potentially have an idea – Harry

Before I know it, I find myself in the car park of The Forum in Inglewood, Harry’s hand slipped effortlessly into mine as he guides us through backdoor after backdoor.

Adrenaline courses through me as we wind through corridors, hearing the support act through the overhead speakers. We had already missed part of the show and were desperately trying to make up for the time lost sat in traffic.

Harry takes care of everything, shaking hands with everyone we interact with and thanking them graciously when they help us locate our seats. I watch him, slightly awe-struck, as we make our way to our little section by the balcony. The space is more private than general seating and I wonder what strings Harry had to pull to get such incredible last-minute tickets.

“Comfortable?” Harry asks as we get settled.

I nod, afraid that if my mouth were to open, I would let everything slip. Who could blame me though? The kindness and sincerity behind his eyes are enough to make anyone swoon.

No time to dwell on the way his eyes glide across my face, the crowd roars, almost making me jump as they drag me from my daydream.

Up on stage, Fleetwood Mac take their positions. A kick drum meets with the first few notes of The Chain, sending thousands of screaming fans into overdrive, ecstatic to see their idols in the flesh. Harry and I easily fall into that category, excitedly squeezing the other’s hand as the song builds.

“Oh my God!” I scream, head thrown back momentarily, unable to contain my wonderment at whatever cosmic coincidence allowed this to by my life.

It is loud. I feel the drums rattle in my chest, bass swirling in the pit in my stomach. My free hand grips the bar of the balcony, desperately trying to tether me to reality before I float away into whatever heavenly dream I have fallen into.

The show goes on, each passing song appearing to be a fan favourite as the crowd only grows wilder and more liberated. I watch with glee as each and every person moves freely, dancing and singing excitedly as Second Hand News transitions into Say You Love Me.

My gaze flits back to Harry for the hundredth time since the show began, admiring the joy radiating from him. It is infectious and feeds me until my rays begin to pour out of me as well.

Harry is goodness. Any other day, I would have used this as a reason to drive a wedge between us. He brought happiness while I worried that I drained it from the world.

But here, with him, I know the truth. I feel the good and the beauty in the world, and I know that I am a part of that. I do not drain him, we fill each other up.

“Harry,” I desperately call over the music.

Instantly, his eyes are on me, smile still present but quickly glancing over me to ensure my wellbeing.

“I’m sorry I friend-zoned you!” is all I can think to say. Somehow, it seems to be enough. Harry lets out a beautifully easy laugh, dimples deep-set in his cheeks as he lets go of my hand in order to wrap both arms around me.

“It’s okay.” He chuckles, quickly letting go of me and turning me towards the stage so as not to miss anything. His arms linger around me, hugging me slightly from behind, swaying us almost anxiously.

“We don’t normally do requests, but this will have to be an exception.” Stevie says, her voice light as a playful smile finds its way on to her face. “This is Skies the Limit.”

“I was going to choose Storms but didn’t want to see you sad.” Harry utters in my ear, confirming every complimentary thought I have of him.

My jaw struggles to stay closed as I watch the band play my song. Harry did this for me. My favourite, non-depressive, song is playing in front of all of these people. For me. Because of him.

His name tumbles from my lips, breathless and unbelieving that I am not existing in some kind of simulation.

I turn to look at him, gobsmacked, when I find his tentative gaze. Never have I seen him so timid, as though I might think this gesture too much. I mean, it is. There is no way on Earth someone could deserve to feel so cherished. No one could possible earn this heart-swelling sensation. No one is worthy of this level of care. But here I am. I get to be with him and being with Harry is like every birthday rolled into one. He drives me wild and keeps me calm, often managing to do both simultaneously.

For once, I do not care what anyone else thinks. All that matters is the man standing in front of me and the decision I need to make. Am I going to let this pass me by and shy away from potential happiness yet again? Or will I be brave and take a chance?

Harry watches me cautiously as my brain tries to spiral and twist itself into knots of self-doubt. But every wonderful decision I have every made required an element of risk. What would my younger self think if she saw me fumble this chance? She was always so fearless, why can’t I be?

“Remember at Lucy’s? You asked what I’d do if I wasn’t scared.” I say, palms starting to sweat as I feel the edge of the cliff approaching fast.

Harry nods.

“I didn’t tell you that if I weren’t so scared, I would let myself fall for you...”

Our eyes search the other’s face; mine desperate for any sort of reaction, his cautiously awaiting a hint of insincerity.

“Funny thing is I don’t think it will stop me.”

And like that, the cliff is far behind me and I wait in limbo for any response.

My heart wishes for Harry to scoop me up in his arms, bend me low and kiss me like a solider coming home from war. My mind worries that he will throw up over the side of the balcony from sheer disgust at the very notion. However, Harry provides neither anticipated response. Instead, a stifled smile spreads across his face.

“I know,” he grins, “Lucy told me.”

“For fuck’s sake!” I laugh incredulously, my head thrown back in despair and amusement. I should have guessed she would continue meddling. “I’m going to kill her.”

“Do you think you could wait a while to do that?” Harry asks when I finally meet his eyes again, his hands slipping up my back, pulling our bodies ever so slightly closer together.

“Why?” I sigh, half-joking.

“So I can do this.”

Each of Harry’s hands settle on either side of my head, a thumb instinctively grazing across the soft skin of my cheek. I have just enough time to register his touch before his lips come down to meet mine.

Our first kiss is fuelled with longing and ignited with hope. A new type of excitement spreads through my chest as his lips melt with mine, soft and sweet, as all fears and doubts seem to drown out with the roar of the arena. Some other time I will tell Harry about Will and how he affected me, and things will be okay, because with Harry things are okay. He makes them okay. And with heaving chests and his forehead pressed against mine, for the first time in a long time, I feel the potential for a free kind of love.

masterlist

42 notes · View notes

supercalvin · 4 years

Note

There are few fic writers that have the talent, patience, understanding, and dedication to write heartfelt, emotional, accurate, gut-wrenching, amazing stories, but you are certainly one of them. I've been reading your fics on AO3 for the last 3 days straight and I'm nearly done. At first I wanted to tell you which were my favorites before I realized that ALL of them were. I'm ecstatic that I discovered your incredible writing. If I may, could I ask for a continuation of the farmer ficlet?

Can I just say that this was such a sweet sweet sweet message @daesmilewings and I’m so sorry for the delay!! I hope I can make up for it with this ficlet!

FARMER FICLET PART 1

Prompts + Ficlets

***

The only reason Merlin slept the rest of the night was because Gaius gave him a sleeping draught. He woke late and ran to get Arthur’s breakfast on time, but at least he was rested.

Arthur looked like he was about to yell at Merlin for being late, but he must have taken pity on Merlin for once, and didn’t say anything.

He went through the day in a haze, his mind continually going back to the farm in his dream and Arthur’s arm around him. Arthur kept glancing at him like he thought Merlin might keel over. Merlin excused himself more than once that day to find a chore on the other side of the citadel.

That night he dreamt of Ealdor. He dreamt of Balinor and his mother. There was a small boy with dark hair running around Hunith’s feet, running into Balinor’s arms. Merlin startled awake, not sure whether guilt or sorrow was filling him more.

It was still early morning, but Merlin didn’t dare go back to sleep.

The stables were quiet at this time. Merlin hushed Llamrei as he woke him, petting his nose with a gentle hand. “Come on, boy. Let’s go.”

Merlin rode out into the woods at a quick pace, hoping he could find the Druids’ camp before day break.

***

“Where have you been?”

Merlin had barely stepped into the royal stables, guiding Llamrei back into his stall, before Arthur was at his side.

“And with my horse too.” Arthur crossed his arms.

“Llamrei likes me better,” Merlin’s point was proven when Llamrei affectionately bumped his head against his chest.

“You run off without telling Gaius where you went. And I didn’t give you the day off. You could have been lying in a ditch for all I knew.”

Merlin didn’t look at Arthur as he fed Llamrei an apple, feeling something warm settle in his chest, knowing Arthur’s anger only came from concern.

“I’m sorry.” Merlin said, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Arthur opened his mouth then snapped it shut. “What is with you?” Arthur narrowed his eyes, “Gaius was oddly cagey this afternoon and you barely said a word to me yesterday.”

Merlin looked around as he brushed Llamrei’s mane.

“Is it…?” Arthur raised a brow, making a gesture which Merlin assumed meant magic.

Merlin nodded.

“We’ll talk tonight. Don’t think you’re getting out of it, either,” Arthur snapped, before striding off.

***

That evening, Merlin barely closed the chamber doors behind himself before Arthur said, “Out with it.”

Merlin sighed, setting down the wine pitcher and Arthur’s dinner. He poured Arthur’s goblet, “I’ve been having visions.”

“What?” Arthur looked like he was about to bolt out of his chair.

Merlin held up his hand, “I don’t have the Sight. They aren’t nightmares either. I went to the Druids today to see what they knew about it.”

“Why didn’t you-“ Arthur’s question was cut off, as it often was with that question. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ had been a bit of a sore point over the last year. Merlin had urged that he hadn’t wanted Arthur to decide between his father’s laws and Merlin, but Arthur still believed Merlin had lied because he had thought Arthur would kill him.

Arthur sighed, “How long has this been going on?”

“Only a few days,” Merlin said. “I didn’t even know they were visions until night before last.”

“What happened? If they aren’t visions of the future, then what are they?”

“They’re impossible futures,” Merlin said, not looking Arthur in the eye, “Things that people desire most, but will never be possible…”

Arthur frowned, “What did you see?”

“Morgana on the throne.”

Arthur nodded, his frown deepening. “That’s all?”

“I saw Gwen with Lancelot…”

Arthur flinched, and Merlin didn’t blame him. He and Gwen hadn’t been in a relationship for a few years now, but thinking of Lancelot’s sacrifice at the Door still hurt all of them.

“Gaius dreamt of peace with…. Well, she’s no longer living.” Merlin said.

“Who else did you see?”

“No one,” Merlin said. He had promised Arthur no more lying, but some lies were necessary.

“Can you stop it?”

Merlin nodded, “The druids said it was a type of magic that happens sometimes to those with powerful magic. They cast a charm they said should keep it from happening again.”

Arthur nodded, looking uncomfortable but pleased that it was at least being handled.

“Did you see your own impossible dream?”

Merlin hadn’t thought of it. He had been so wrapped up in Arthur’s, that he hadn’t even wondered what he would want. There were so many things he wished he had done differently. He understood that circumstances were out of his control, but that was what made it an impossible dream. But his true dream was still possible. To have an untied Albion, to have magic return to the land…and to be by Arthur’s side.

And Merlin suddenly realized Morgana's dream wasn’t his first vision. The night before, he had dreamt of Albion. He had been confused by the dream, but that was hardly odd, considering all dreams were irrational. There had been a feast, and he was sitting at Arthur’s side. Lancelot was there next to Gwaine and Percival. Gwen was seated down the line, next to Morgana, who had looked younger and happier than she had in years. Balinor had been sitting at the visiting dignitary’s table, a little white dragon draped across his shoulders. The dream wasn’t a memory. How could it have been? Balinor had died far before he reached Camelot. Morgana was young, not broken by her grief and pain. It was as if several versions of Merlin’s life had been jumbled together.

Merlin remembered he had drunk the mulled wine, not even thinking about the fact that he was sitting next to Arthur instead of serving him.

The dream had faded in and out, but it had been oddly real, just like the other visions. Merlin remembered Arthur taking his hand and leading him to the royal chambers. He had pressed Merlin up against the door, and kissed him thoroughly, as if he had been waiting all night for it.

Merlin had woken, not thinking anything of it. The feast was odd, and strangely real, but nothing too out of place for a dream. As for the kiss, Merlin certainly had had dreams like it before. He hadn’t even thought to connect it with any of the other visions.

“Merlin?”

Merlin was pulled from his thoughts by Arthur standing, “What is it?”

Merlin gave a weak smile, “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar. How I never saw it before I’ll never know.”

Merlin sighed, “I just… I just realized that I had seen my own vision. I just hadn’t realized it.”

“What was it?”

Merlin looked away, “A feast. With everyone there.”

“Everyone?” Arthur paused and then said, “Ah. I see.”

Arthur crossed his arms, “You saw a vision of my impossible future, didn’t you? It’s why you’ve been so quiet the last few days.”

“I…” Merlin sighed and gave up on the lie. “I didn’t want you to worry about it.”

“Was it that bad that you had to hide it from me?”

“No, of course not, don’t be absurd.” Arthur was still frowning and Merlin sighed, “It’s going to bother you, isn’t it?”

“Well it obviously bothered you.” Arthur snapped, “You’ve been avoiding me for days.”

Merlin winced, “It’s not bad.”

“Well?” Arthur said impatiently.

“You were living on a farm,” Merlin said reluctantly.

“A farm,” Arthur’s brow furrowed, “Are you sure it was my vision?”

“You were the only one there. There were wheat fields and a vegetable garden. You had just fed the chickens, of all things” Merlin laughed and realized he was starting to sound too fond. He coughed, “Anyways, you wanted me to make rabbit stew and that was it. Nothing bad.”

“You were there?” Arthur asked, looking much paler, as if he just realized something.

Merlin mentally cursed himself, “I mean, obviously. I was there. You obviously need someone to do all the real work,” Merlin gave a nervous laugh.

Arthur looked at him for a long moment and Merlin tried not to fidget.

“You know, don’t you?”

“Know what?” Merlin asked far too quickly.

“Merlin, don’t play with me. You saw. You saw what I want.”

Merlin swallowed, fiddling with his own sleeve, tugging on a loose thread. “You know, in all the visions, no one had ever interacted with me. I was like a ghost watching from the outside. But then you turned up, hands covered in dirt, pulling me along to look at some lavender bush that we had been fighting about because even in your dreams Arthur, we still fight.”

Arthur looked embarrassed, his red rising up his neck and ears.

Merlin thought of how impossible that dream was. How Arthur could never have it. “I’m sorry things can’t be that simple.”

Arthur looked away, “No. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to see that. To be forced into my dream. I understand if you would like some distance.”

“What?”

“I didn’t have control over the dream, obviously, but I hope I conducted myself well.” Arthur’s face was becoming redder.

“You don’t care if you conduct yourself well with me in person, let alone a dream, what are you talking about?”

Arthur nodded, “Good, so I didn’t…Good.”

Merlin realized Arthur thought he had pushed himself upon Merlin in the vision. If only he knew what Merlin’s vision had been.

“Arthur, I didn’t mean… Arthur that’s not why I’m sorry.” Merlin stepped forward and tried to catch Arthur’s eye. “I’m sorry that as King you’ve had to sacrifice so much. I would give anything to see you as happy as you were when you showed me that damned lavender plant. I’m sorry that your vision was just you being...”

“What?”

Merlin smiled, “Happy.”

Arthur looked away again.

“Arthur, look at me,” Merlin reached out, tilting Arthur’s chin toward him, locking eyes with Arthur’s. There was a sadness in them that Merlin never wanted to see again. “Every fiber of my being would give that to you, if I could. I would give anything to see you happy. I wish our lives could be like that simple farm. I wish we could spend our days in that bed.”

Arthur looked amazed, his mouth open and his wet eyes wide.

“In my vision, you dragged me to your chambers and you pressed me up against those doors,” Merlin nodded behind himself, “You’re not the only one with impossible dreams, Arthur-”

Merlin didn’t get a chance to finish. Arthur was grabbing Merlin's face in both hands, his lips clumsily pressing into Merlin’s. His teeth nipped at Merlin’s lips, and Merlin grabbed onto Arthur’s cape, desperate to stay upright as Arthur dragged him backwards. Merlin stumbled and realized Arthur had walked him backwards until he was up against the very doors he had dreamed about.

Arthur panted against Merlin’s lips.

“Like that?”

Merlin nodded, looking up at Arthur’s eyes, “Yeah.”

Merlin threaded his fingers into Arthur’s hair and pulled him in again.

“I couldn’t give a damn about the farm,” Arthur said roughly against Merlin’s lips, his teeth dragging down to Merlin’s chin and jaw, “Being King comes with sacrifices.” He pressed his lips to Merlin’s earlobe, sinking down to press a soft kiss to Merlin’s neck, before tilting his head up to look at Merlin again, “The only thing I want is to have you by my side.”

“Then you have me,” Merlin said and let Arthur kiss him until he couldn’t think any longer.

***

(PART 1 in case you missed it lol)

Prompts + Ficlets

#merlin #merthur #merlin fic #merthur fic #ficlets #daesmilewings

89 notes · View notes

daisylincs · 4 years

Text

WIP Folder Game

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it! ← part of my trick or treat now :D

Thank you so much for the tag, @eowima! You know, I think we should officially update you to the role of clairvoyant or something, lmao, because you won’t believe how well this fits into my ~master plan.~ (I’ll explain in a second, lol.)

But before I start, um... letmeapologiseinadvancefortheshitshowthatisabouttofollow. My WIPs folder is, er, simply put, a mess. Chaos. A nightmare.

I have an explanation!! I’ve always loved fanfiction and fandoms, and I’ve spent many happy years reading other people’s things - but I’ve never actually been inspired to create something myself. I don’t know, I always had tremendous respect for the creators who were already out there, but I never felt the inclination to join them, you know?

Then I started watching AoS this lockdown, and... well, let’s just say that everything changed. For the first time ever, I woke up in the middle of the night and I had a fic idea, one that was demanding to be written down if I ever wanted to sleep a wink again.

And the more I got into the fandom, the more the fic ideas kept coming, until there was a point where I couldn’t read or watch anything without thinking, “ooh, AoS AU!!” So... into the WIPs folder it went. And as you can well imagine, there’s a lot there now. Like, a lot.

Fitzsimmons was the ship that gave me my first fic idea, so of course there’s stuff for them. Then Huntingbird is the ship that actually pulled me completely and wholeheartedly into the fic verse. And then, of course, Staticquake, the ship that actually got me past my but I’m not good enough fears and, er, got me completely obsessed. I am still not over that.

And last but definitely not least - and, actually, you’re to thank for this, Océane, because it’s your fic that got me hooked on these two awkwardorable idiots - my brain decided that, you know what, if I’m going to write now anyway, I want to do Spideychelle.

So that’s the (long) story of me and my chaotic WIPs folder, and now with no further ado, I’m going to jump right in and give you a list of titles. *coughs* I am, however, going to put a cut here, because... well, you’ll see why. *cringes*

Key:

💜 - Staticquake

💖 - Huntingbird

💚 - Fitzsimmons

🍋 - Dekesy

💗 - Pipsy

🤍 - Dousy

💕 - Skimmons

🧡 - Quakerider

💞 - Simmorse

🤎 - Mackelena

💙 - Platonic/Family Centric

❤️ - Spideychelle

💘 - Clintasha

* - a series

(Ones with two or more hearts mean that all these ships feature prominently.)

The List:

💜. A Hero’s Reward

💜. and i risk it all for this life we share

💜. Angsty Post-Hive Recovery Fic

💜. barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song

💜. Best Friends But She’s In A Bad Relationship AU

💜. Bittersweet What-If Fic

💜. Blow Us All Away*

💜. Childhood Friends Fic

💜. darling just dive right in

💜. darling just kiss me slow

💜. don’t ask me where i’ve been, or what i’m gonna do (just know that i’m here with you)

💜. every day in between

💜. Fairytale (Sleeping Beauty) AU

💜. Fake Dating Partyfic

💜. Flower Shop AU

💜. good old shake ‘n bake

💜. Grieving Fic

💜. High School AU Idea

💜. Hive Toilet Fic

💜. Hospital Fluff & Flirting AU

💜. Hotel Room AU

💜. i live for you (soulmates AU)

💜. i never knew you were the someone waiting for me

💜. i’ll find my way through night and day

💜. just let your heart be free (you’ve got a friend in me)

💜. lights will guide you home

💜. Mission/Partners Fic

💜. Modern Royalty Fic

💜. Musical (West Side Story) AU

💜. Not That Girl Anymore

💜. PDA

💜. Pitch Perfect AU

💜. Post-Hive Pregnancy Fic

💜. put that body on me

💜. Rain Fic

💜. Red Thread

💜. Regency AU: Marriage of Convenience

💜. Regency AU: Arranged Marriage

💜. remember that with every piece of you

💜. Rom-Com AU

💜. Royalty Shenanigans Fic

💜. S3 AU - Daisy, Inhuman Leader

💜. S3 AU - Lincoln With SHIELD All Along

💜. Shake ‘n Bake: A YouTube Romance

💜. Skaters AU

💜. Sky’s the Limit*

💜. Snowed In Fic

💜. so baby i’m alright, with just a kiss goodnight

💜. some dreams do come true

💜. Soul Realm

💜. Soulmark AU

💜. Stardust AU

💜. Stranded-Somewhere-Cold Ficlet

💜. The Daughter of Thunder and Lightning

💜. the earth shook and the sky flashed

💜. took my heart upon a one-way trip

💜. TV Show AU

💜. Ward-Confrontation AU

💜. Watching Hamilton AU

💜. What-Ifs*

💜. you’d be the one i was meant to find

💜💙. Lincoln & The Team Bonding Fic

💜💙. MayLincoln Friendship Fic

💜💙. The Secret Warriors

💚. Academy Era Rom-Com

💚. Ah Crap My Ex Just Walked In AU

💚. Alya Fluff and First Words Fic

💚. Angsty Hair ficlet

💚. Cute Family Zoo Prompt

💚. lunch break

💚. Second Child Fluff and First Words Fic

💚. Soulmate AU

💚. The Perfect Fairytale*

💚. The Team Ships It

💚💜. Fluffy Best Friends Idea

💚💜. ooh, la la la*

💚💙. AoS Frozen AU

💚💙. FitzsimmonsSparks Fic

💚💙. Us Against The World

💚💜💙. AoS Harry Potter AU

💖. Al Birthday Fic

💖. always the same pattern, love

💖. blonde

💖. meet me half-way

💖. rollercoaster

💖. Soulmate AU

💖. The Blue Door (Notting Hill AU)

💖. the ride

💖. when did it all fall to pieces (can’t we build it back)

💚💖. Best Friends’ Wedding AU

💚💖. The Holiday AU

💚💜💖💙. No Hive AU

💚💜💖💙. Post-3x10 Who Owes Who Fic

🍋. Angst/Introspection Fic

🍋. Beach Fic

🍋. Coffee Shop AU

🍋. Concert Canon Divergence Fic

🍋. Drunk Kiss Fic

🍋. Mission Kiss Canon Divergence Fic

🍋. Singers AU

💚🍋. Fluff and Teasing Fic

💚🍋. (Not A) Double Date

💗. ’cause you’re out of this world

💗. Coffee Shop/Baristas AU

💗. High School AU/Sleepover Fic

💗. Walls Come Down Fic

🤍. Affectionate Arguments/Take Care Of Yourself Fic

🤍. Danny Boy & Quake*

🤍. getting to know you, getting to know all about you

🤍. T Birthday Fic

🤍💚. Teasing/Introspection Fic

💞. Birdie Birthday Fic

💞. Bodyguard AU

💞. Roommates/Best Friends AU

💞. you’re just my cup of tea

🧡. Abby Birthday Fic

🧡. it’s a better place since you came along

🧡. Reluctantly Perfect

🧡. Scarlet Birthday Fic

🧡💚. well that works

💕. Coming Out Fic

💕. S1 Crush Fic

💕. you’ll be my lady

🤎. Childhood Best Friends AU

🤎. Church Camp AU

🤎. Giorgia Birthday Fic

🤎. Soulmates AU

🤎. then through the shadows, your light appears

💚💜💖🤎. Shippy Team Mistletoe Fic

💚💜💖🤎. Shippy Team Snowfic

💚💜💖🤎💙. Soft Family Fic from Chloe Interview

❤️. Ah Crap My Ex Just Walked In AU

❤️. Arranged Marriage AU

❤️. cute clueless moron

❤️. Cute, Dorky Friendship Idea

❤️. Fake Dating Friends to Lovers

❤️. Media Nonsense Fic

❤️. Michelle Jones, Agent of SHIELD

❤️. Michelle Jones, Inhuman

❤️. Océane Birthday Fic

❤️. oh, when you kiss me

❤️. Secret Santa Fic

❤️. Secret Santa Thank-You Ficlet

❤️. Spideychelle Week Day 5 - Roommates AU

❤️. Spideychelle Week Day 6 - Enemies to Lovers

❤️. Spideychelle Week Day 7 - Only One Bed

❤️. Teach Me To Fight, Parker

❤️💚. heads on a science apart

💘. Bobbi Birthday Fic

💘. 5 Times The Avengers Played Matchmaker, and 1 Time It Worked (Sort Of)

💘. Jade Arrow

💘. Natalia

💘. Roommates AU

💙. all the stars in the skye

💙. blue-eyed

💙. FitzDaisy Recovery Fic

💙. Happy Family Holiday Fic

💙. JemmaDaisy Friendship Fic

💙. see the line where the skye meets the sea

💙. Soft-Fluffy Philindaisy Tickle Fic

💙.untitled angst war fic

💜🤍💗🍋🧡💕💙. day’s eye

(and that’s not even it. I haven’t even made documents for all the birthday fics. *crawls into a hole to die*)

So yeah, I’m completely insane and I’m probably going to be here for the next ten years trying to write all this lot and also I tag @ohwriteiforgot, @aleksandrachaev, @everythingirl44, @que-mint-tea, @anxiouslynumbme, @springmagpies, @besidemethewholedamntime, @infinitestarsintheskye, @libbyweasley, @a-biochemist-not-a-bird, @nazezdha321, @sadtunes and @here-for-huntingbird, if any of you guys want to do this!

#wip folder game #wips #*goes and dies in a hole*#now; my friends; you see i really wasn't exaggerating when i said two hundred wips #alksjflkdsjfldskjfldsklkjfa #*s2 daisy voice* there is something very wrong with me

25 notes · View notes