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a-simp-named-slickback · 4 months

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Star-Crossed | Basim x OC | Part 4

As strange things happen at the House of Wisdom, Nashira begins to wonder what Basim has been up to the last four years…and what he’s up to now.

Nashira was never one to hold her tongue.

Perhaps being raised by her father had something to do with that.

Khalid ibn Mohammed was many things: a respected astronomer, a loving father, and above all else, a spirited debater. She’d seen him confidently share his theories and findings to rooms filled with the world's most celebrated scholars from Baghdad to Greece to Timbuktu. She’d also seen the many lengthy instances where he was asked to defend such findings, which he always did, with ample evidence to boot.

Anytime Nashira wanted something, she and her father had a little game where she’d have to defend her reasons as to why she should have it, while Khalid would argue against it. In fact, such a game is how she got Halah.

“A cat will keep the mice away,” A young Nashira stated.

“They are a big responsibility azizati” he’d say.

“I’m very responsible,” She persisted, “I study very hard, and I complete my chores without being asked.”

Khalid raised a brow, pointing to her study area, “Then why is your desk still a mess?”

“Because if it was clean, Baba, I wouldn't have any way to show you how responsible I am.”

Khalid let out a roar of a laugh. He could not argue with that logic. The next day he presented his daughter with a fluffy white cat.

She never held back in any conversation, especially an intellectual one. She’d learned the art of having tact, but that tact could only do so much in the face of outright foolishness. It was no surprise then when she openly criticized the House of Wisdom’s head scholar, Fazil Fahim.

The man was a charlatan, at least Nashira thought so. He spoke of people who came before, how they would come again one day, how his so-called “great work” proved as much.

Nashira read his research, she attended his lectures, and saw absolutely no basis for this claim. Fazil Fahim had no place as first scholar of the House of Wisdom if intended to spout the musings of a fool. Worse yet, he was spending an unthinkable amount of money on a pointless dig sight out in the wilderness. That part angered Nashira the most.

“To make such claims without any solid evidence is moronic!” Nashira exclaimed after one of his symposiums, “I expect better from a man as intelligent as Fazil Fahim, especially when he is the head scholar of the House of Wisdom. With the money he spends on that dig site, we could fund stipends for more scholars and pay school fees for students who cannot afford it otherwise. A terrible waste!”

What Nashira had not considered was that unlike her father, who was understanding and encouraged her to speak freely around him, other men did not take such talk as well from a woman.

Lately, she swore someone was following her. Around the House of Wisdom, around the markets, outside her home. She couldn’t explain it but she felt a presence near her at all times, starting around the time she made the comment about Fazil.

Perhaps it was him following her around? To confront her on what she said? If that were the case he knew where her observatory was. Nothing stopped him from simply strolling right in and giving her a piece of his mind.

Nashira sighed, drumming her fingers on the open book in front of her. After some contemplation, she let her thoughts drift to where she tried so hard no to let them go.

Could it be Basim?

Her mind filled with the image of his round eyes, his dark brows, his full bottom lip he bit when he was nervous….

She let out a frustrated huff, “Stop it Nashira….” She made herself clear the last time they spoke. That was all in the past. She was married to Omar and he was a good husband to her. This was just her wishful thinking again. The residuals of reckless teenaged passion.

She glanced at the open window. Why did she even bother keeping it open anymore when the only person who ever used it was him?

Nashira walked over to it, taking hold of the window panes and froze. Keeping it open just a little bit wouldn’t hurt? Right? It was quite hot today and the draft would be nice.

She dropped her arms by her side with a heavy sigh, resigning to her desk as she gazed at the window she was too cowardly to close.

Halah jumped into her lap, meowing at her.

She let out a laugh, “You’re right Halah, I need to forget about Basim,” She petted the cat, “Especially before Omar comes back…he’ll notice something is wrong with me and I wouldn’t have the heart to be honest as to why…”

The cat purred into her hand.

Suddenly, Basim leaped through the window. It wasn't in his usual way, he barreled his way in like he was in a rush, or rather a panic.

She gasped, “Basim?”

She paused upon seeing his expression. Basim looked distraught, “You need to get out of here. Now.” He walked over and grabbed her by the arm.

She resisted, “Excuse me? You can’t just barge in here and demand I go anywhere with you, not without an explanation!” She barked at him, and he backed a little in response.

Suddenly the doors of the observator burst open, revealing a group of heavily armed guards. Many of them holding weapons that seemed too coarse for a building full of scholars.

Nashira let out a scream, “What in the world?” She muttered under her breath. The guards drew their swords, filling the entrance. Basim stepped in front of her and Halah, a deadly look in eyes. It didn’t seem to match the face of the sweet boy she used to know, but she considered herself lucky to not be on the receiving end of it.

The biggest guard pointed his sword directly at Nashira, “There she is. Get her!” He ordered.

Basim drew his scimitar from his hilt, a deadly focus growing on his face, “Nashira, Halah, stay behind me.”

_______________________________________________

Basim panted, returning his scimitar to its hilt on his side. Around them lay the dead bodies of the assailants. Taking them out was light work, though he hated making a mess of the observatory.

Nashira stood in place clutching Halah, whose fur stood on ends. They both trembled after witnessing such carnage.

He walked over to her, “Are you alright?” He asked. His voice sounded gently and sweet, a total contrast to the ferocity he displayed in the earlier fight.

Nashira nodded slowly, eyes still focusing on the bodies in front of her. She had never seen so much blood before. She shivered thinking how It would have been her blood had Basim not arrived in time.

He sighed with relief, “Now you see why I need you to come with me?” He asked.

Nashira let out a shaky breath, “Why on earth would these men try to kill me?” She asked, clutching Halah tightly against her.

Basim stepped towards her, “Many people in The House of Wisdom have been going missing, some of them have even been killed. I decided to look into this and spoke with a man who said someone by the name of Al Rabisu was targeting scholars getting involved with a mysterious dig site out in the wilderness. Your name came up and I rushed over here.”

He let out a sigh, “I am just glad I wasn’t too late.” He said just above a whisper.

Nashira swallowed hard, “Me too.” She thought for a moment, “Who is this Al Rabisu?”

“That is what I am trying to find out,” Basim said, “Think, is there anyone you could have angered in the last few days? Anyone at all?”

Nashira thought for a moment, “Well…I may have said some critical things about Fazil Fazim?” She bit her lip nervously. Looking back on it, maybe openly criticizing the most powerful man in the House of Wisdom was a bad idea.

Basim’s eyes widened, “The head scholar?”

She nodded.

He exhaled, “Well I can’t say I’m surprised you'd do something like that.” He said, placing his hands on his hips. This pointed to motive for Fazim in regards to Nashira’s criticism, and further connected him to the order. Still, he needed to be absolutely sure before acting.

She frowned, “I know I said some harsh things, but what would killing me do? I don’t understand.” Nashira asked.

“I have my suspicions as to what Al Rabisu is up to, but first I need to get you somewhere safe.” Basim explained.

Nashira furrowed her brows as Basim guided her towards the window, “Basim what are you-” She was cut off by Basim blindfolding her.

She yelped when he picked her up. She tightened her hold on Halah as Basim carried them both out of the window. To where, she had no idea.

______________________________________________

Nashira sat in a strange room holding Halah in her arms, listening to the muffled voices below. Basim had been speaking with a hooded gray haired woman for some time now. Most of it sounded like her reprimanding him.

“What do you think you’re doing bringing an outsider here?” An older woman with a raspy voice asked angrily.

“I know, Master Roshan, but she was in danger. This was the only place I knew that would be safe.” He pleaded.

Roshan huffed, “You know the rules. No compromising the brotherhood.”

“She won’t,” He added, “I trust her with my life. We’ll keep her here as soon as I can figure out who’s behind the mask in the House of Wisdom.”

Nashira felt a sense of relief hearing him vouch for her to stay. She definitely didn’t feel safe enough to go home, especially with her husband gone.

Downstairs, Roshan didn’t budge, instead crossing her arms and hardening her stare.

Basim pressed his hands together, “Please master,” He lowered his voice, leaning in a bit, “This is important for the success of my mission.”

His mentor raised a brow, “Is all this important for your mission, or is she important to you?” she asked at full volume.

Basim opened his mouth to negate that, but couldn’t.

Nashira listened intently to the conversation, feeling her face growing red at what Roshan insinuated. She quickly shook the feeling away.

“That’s in the past.” she insisted to herself. She kept listening.

Roshan let out a deep sigh, “Alright. But make haste on finding out the truth behind Al Rabisu and this dig site. We do not have time to waste.”

Nashira let out a sigh of relief and heard footsteps walking up the stairs. She quickly busied herself, making it seem like she hadn’t been listening to that conversation.

Basim entered the space looking indignant after the harsh talking-to he just received, but quickly fixed his face once he saw Nashira.

“You can stay here as long as you need.” He said, “It is safe here.”

She sighed in relief, “Thank you, Basim…I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

He gave her a soft smile, “Of course, ya sayidati.”

She let Halah jump down from her arms, smiling when she saw her snuggle up against Basim’s boot, “If I might ask, where exactly am I?”

Basim let out a deep sigh, “I’m afraid I cannot tell you.”

Nashira raised a brow at him, but continued with her questions, “Then, can I ask what you are going to do now?” She hesitated, “Do you intend to…fix this issue the way you did in my observatory?”

Basim crossed his arms, “I will do what needs to be done to ensure your safety.”

She made an irritable noise at that, and Basim tried not to laugh. She hated not knowing things.

“What is with all these secrets? He’s never been this secretive…” she thought to herself, no doubt her face showing how irritated she was.

Basim gently patted her shoulder, “Try to relax while I’m gone.”

She rolled her eyes, “Easier said than done. You’re not the one with a target on their back.”

“True.” He shrugged, “At least not today.”

Basim turned around before he could see the look of wide eyed shock on Nashira’s face. Just what on earth does he do for a living?!

The steely look in his face returned as he glanced behind him, “I must go now. If you need anything, Master Roshan and Tabid will help you. I’ll be back soon.” He turned to leave the room, headed for the House of Wisdom to continue his investigation.

Just as Basim was about to turn the corner, he heard her voice behind him.

“Be careful.”

She said it softly, nearly a whisper. He smiled to himself, then turned just enough to nod at her, and left.

When he disappeared from her sight, Nashira let out a long breath, trying to shake off the feeling in her chest. She thought back to the fight that broke out in her observatory. As scary as the situation was, Basim skillfully subdued her attackers with ease.

If she hadn’t already known him, she’d swear he was a hero from an epic tale that leaped off the page and into real life. He could protect anyone from anything, no longer the defenseless boy from the streets she once knew. This Basim was a different beast entirely.

She shook her head when she realized she was thinking about him for too long, “Stop it Nashira!” she said to herself.

Her eyes drifted to Halah, who sat on the floor and looked up at her, tilting her head.

Nashira shrugged, “What?”

Halah simply meowed, walking toward one of the cushions on the floor to take a nap.

______________________________________________

Nashira knew she was supposed to stay in the room and out of the way of everyone else in the bureau, but her curiosity couldn’t stay away. It had been at least a day since Basim brought her here, and the only fresh air she got in that time was from the small enclosed courtyard just outside the bureau. She crept out of the room Basim left her in and made her way down the hall.

There weren’t many people at all in the bureau. The few people there were too occupied with their own studies to notice her. Or rather, she suspected, they did notice her and decided she was such a non threat they didn’t have to acknowledge her presence. She figured that was for the best all things considered.

She made her way down the stairs, taking note of her surroundings: there was a desk, a bookshelf filled with reference books and maps of the city hanging on the walls. Near the door was a board with several papers pinned to it.

Nashira got close to the desk in an attempt to read the papers on it, having to strain her eyes just to make out a few letters at a time.

“What are you doing?”

She whipped her head around at the sound of the raspy voice from earlier. There stood the woman in similar robes to Basim, only she had a red sash instead of the blue one he wore. Her hood was up, unlike the other hidden ones in the bureau, and Nashira could only make out the bottom half of her face. She must have been the woman Basim was speaking with earlier, Master Roshan.

“Nothing,” she sputtered, “I was just-“

“You were just looking at confidential documents?” Roshon finished for her as she stalked up to Nashira, towering over the younger woman.

“My apologies, I didn’t know they were confidential, they were out in the open,” Nashira clarified, “I don’t even have my magnifying glass on me so I could hardly read any of it.”

“A likely story,” said Roshan, “Or a clever lie.”

Nashira frowned, “I am no liar. And unlike you and Basim I do not keep secrets either.” She crossed her arms.

Roshan hummed, “Then perhaps you’re not so clever after all.”

Nahsira scoffed in response.

Roshan examined the woman in front of her. She didn’t peg this woman as a member of the order, but she could never be too careful. By the looks of her, she had zero fighting prowess about her. She was young, about twenty if she had to guess, olive skinned, shaped like a pear with a soft tummy, and lacking in muscle. Nashira didn’t possess any weapons on her person and definitely dressed like a woman could afford to hire people to fight for her judging by her elegant robes and jewlery.

It was clear she wasn’t a threat, at least not physically.

No doubt she was beautiful enough to compel the hearts of men and women around her. Men like Basim, who despite having grown from the scared boy he was when Roshan first met him, was still a man. A young one at that, making him an easy target for seduction.

She decided she wouldn’t let up until she had a better understanding of who this young woman was and what she was doing with her student.

Roshon narrowed her eyes, “Who are you?”

“Nashira bint Khalid ibn Mohammed.” She answered quickly, “I’m an astronomer at the House of Wisdom.”

“A woman astronomer,” Roshan thought, not hiding her intrigue in her face, “Being a woman in your position must make you quite vulnerable. Especially to men with fragile egos in the House of Wisdom I imagine.” She said aloud.

Nashira sighed, “Perhaps…I’ve been made quite aware of that recently…”

Roshan tilted her head. Clearly she was intelligent considering she was a scholar. Though intelligence does little to help naïveté it seems. Any woman in a lower class knew a man’s ego was a threat, as Roshan herself was well aware. However women of higher class lived in a world sheltered by the men around them. Those women had the protection of their well to do male relatives and whoever served them. Perhaps the events leading to Nashira staying here were a rude awakening on that fact.

Roshan continued, “How do you know Basim?”

Nashira rubbed her hand up and down her arm, “We were…friends.” She said, trying to keep her gaze locked on Roshan but couldn’t help but to shift her eyes to the ground.

“Friends?” Roshan raised a brow, sensing she was withholding information. Still, her hesitation to answer her questions regarding Basim did not seem to come from a place of deception, at least not with the goal of deceiving Roshan in this very moment.

Nashira shifted her eyes from the floor to Roshan’s, “Perhaps more than that.”

Now it was coming together for Roshan. Like his friend Nehal, she was just another piece of the past Basim had to reckon with, “I see…And are you still more than that?”

“No.” Nashira answered quickly.

“Why not?”

The young woman shrugged her shoulders, “He disappeared,” she looked Roshon up and down, “I suspect you know the rest.”

“The rest?”

Nashira rolled her eyes, “The parts I don’t know…or aren’t allowed to know it seems.”

Roshan clasped her hands behind her back, “Basim took an oath, to leave his past behind him and walk our path. To walk the shadows and serve the light.” She held Nashia’s gaze, “He has no room for anything else. I’m sure you understand Nashira.”

Nashira nodded. So then this was the reason he stayed away so long. This oath of his to leave his past behind, her included. After all the time they spent together, had he really intended to forget about her just like that? It took her years to make peace with his sudden disappearance. Was it really so easy for him? If he wasn’t required to come back to Baghdad, would he have even bothered seeking her out at all?

She swallowed hard. Why did the thought of that upset her so much?

Her somber expression didn’t go unnoticed by Roshan, “I do not say this to be cruel. I just do not want you to get you to get your hopes up.”

She met Roshan’s gaze with her own, “That will not be a problem. What we had is in the past.”

“Is it?” The hidden one tilted her head.

“It is.” Nashira answered sternly, “And once this is all over and I can go back to my observatory and we can forget all about this.”

Roshon paused for a moment, then let out a sigh. This woman was smart, but a terrible liar.

“Very well.” She said, turning on her heel toward the door, “I enjoyed our chat, Nashira bint Khalid.” She put her hand on the doorknob, “there are some books on the shelf behind you. I suggest you read those to keep your boredom at bay.”

Without another word she walked out the bureau, leaving a stunned Nashira behind.

Nashira held her gaze on the door, letting her feelings sink into her. Despite the presence of others in the office, she suddenly felt more confused and alone than ever.

What path did Basim walk that led him so far from her?

_______________________________________________

Hours later, Basim walked into the upstairs room, startling both Nashira and Halah out of their sleep.

Sleeping on the floor was not her preferred method, but at least the Hidden One’s hideout was mostly quiet, save for the sound of footsteps. She stretched her sore muscles and Halah followed suit.

Nashira noticed Basim seemed…off? Like he had grown weary since she last saw him hours ago. She wondered what made him so.

Given what happened at the observatory, perhaps it was best if she didn’t know any details.

“It’s done,” He said, “Come morning you’ll be able to return to the House of Wisdom with no danger.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “That is good to hear,” She relaxed her shoulders, “So, was it Fazil Fahim then?”

Basim figured she’d find out he was dead anyway once she returned to the House of Wisdom. so he nodded.

She raised a brow, “Are you going to tell me what was going on with all those disappearances?” She asked.

He sighed, “I cannot reveal-”

“Right, more secrets.” She rolled her eyes, getting a bit fed up with all this secrecy.

“Trust me Nashira,” Basim put a hand over his heart, “If I could tell you, you’d be the first to know.”

Her eyes soften, remembering her conversation with Roshan earlier about Basim’s oath, “It’s fine. Thank you ya sadiqi.” She smiled warmly at him, showing her sincere thanks.

Basim felt a warmth spread in his chest seeing her smile at him, “I can escort you home if you’d like? So you do not have to stay in…here.” He gestured around the room, beautiful but quite small and simple compared to the observatory.

She grinned, “I’d love that.”

_______________________________________________

Basim marveled at the estate in front of him.

Nashira’s home was beautifully decorated with sun, moon and star designs etching the walls and arches. The private courtyard he stepped into was filled with a lush garden and a fountain where the moon’s reflection shone in the water.

“This house is beautiful.” Basim touched the etchings in the archways. His own father would be speechless if he saw this place.

Nashira smiled, “Thank you.” She took a seat on the edge of the fountain, “Omar is always away with the merchant caravans so he figured he’d have the house built to suit my tastes.”

Basim clasped his hands behind his back, “That is good. You deserve a gorgeous home.” His eyes softened at her.

She smiled back, and then looked up at the sky. A skwak rang out, catching her attention. Moments later an eagle flew down onto Basim’s outstretched arm.

“You’ve been flying all day,” he fed the bird a snack, “Do you ever tire?”

Nashira tilted her head as Basim brought the creature closer to her, “This is Enkidu, my animal companion.”

The bird was beautiful, and quite alert, seeming to take notice of the woman in front of him. She carefully reached out a hand to pet the top of Enkidu’s head.

The bird clicked with delight at the action.

“It’s very nice to meet you Enkidu.” Nashira smiled at the creature.

Basim let out a chuckle, “I can tell he likes you.”

Nashira blew the bird a few kisses, not noticing her cat stalking up the winged creature. With one swipe of the paw, Halah hissed at the bird, causing it to fly back in the sky with a loud screech.

“Bad Halah!” Nashira picked up the cat, placing it in her lap, “you mustn’t hiss at our friend Enkidu.” She sent an apologetic glance at Basim.

He chuckled again, “Enkidu is a lot tougher than he seems.”

Nashira let Halah jump out of her lap. She patted a spot next to her on the fountain, “Please, sit with me.”

Without hesitation, Basim did as she asked. Stars filled the night above them, twinkling up above Nashira’s courtyard garden.

He sighed, “This reminds me of those times we’d sit on the roofs in Anbar.” He said, gazing above them.

Nashira smiled fondly, “Yeah, it does.”

A silence hung over them for some time.

She looked at Basim, taking in his new choice of dress. He wore a hood now, though it was down at the moment. His clothing was simple and plain, like a peasant or monk’s clothing. The only thing that stood out was the bright sash, and if you looked closely, you could see an array of thinly veiled weapons all over his person.

She gave him a long look, raising an eyebrow at him. Slowly the corner her mouth raised up in a smirk.

He noticed her gaze, “What?”

Nashira let out a small laugh, “I couldn’t help but notice how you choose the dress lately : hoods, concealed weapons…or should I say hidden? Much like those elusive hooded liberators you used to talk about all the time. What were they called?” She tapped her cheek with her finger as she circled around him, “The Hidden-”

Basim covered her mouth to stop her from talking.

His face turned serious, “Do not mention them, ever, understood?” He said in a hushed tone.

She nodded.

He took his hand away and she smacked him hard on the shoulder, “And stop shushing me!”

Basim grunted out a laugh at the smack and rubbed his shoulder, feigning pain. Nashira nearly hit him again but he caught her hand before she could.

“Nice try.” He smirked. He and Nashira laughed for a moment before realizing how close to each other they were, and that Basim currently held her hand in his. They both thought back to the times they used to play these kinds of games together in the observatory.

They were so close to each other. Close enough to feel each other's breaths on their noses.

He let go, clearing his throat and she tucked some hair back into her head scarf.

Nashira let out a little laugh, “To be honest I wouldn’t have figured it out had I not spoken to Master Roshan.” She mentioned.

Basim’s eyes widened, “You spoke with Roshan?”

She nodded, “She may have caught me looking at some confidential documents while you were away.”

Basim blinked, “I am surprised you lived to tell the tale.”

“As am I.” Nashira thought for a moment and then laughed, “I am surprised you took out those mercenaries so easily. I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

Basim raised a brow, “What do you mean?”

“Well thieves aren’t exactly known for fighting.” She shrugged, “You were more so the ‘avoid a fight and run away as fast as you can’ type.”

“Hey now, I used to put up a good fight back then!” He protested.

She chuckled, “You certainly gave them what for…from the ground.” She winked.

Basim huffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes as she laughed thinking about all the times she saw Basim scrambling from the guards in the House of Wisdom.

She fidgeted with her hands in her lap, “I know I was a bit…harsh the night you returned to Baghdad,” She almost whispered, “I still stand by what I said, but, It is good to have you back. I missed having a friend to talk to.”

Basim smiled softly at the word friend. They had started out as friends, and he cherished that friendship just as much, if not more, than their romance for he would have never known he loved her without it. The love he had for Nashira never left, but perhaps it could change.

“I am glad to be back too. Even more so knowing we can still be friends.”

After a moment, she cleared her throat, “Roshan mentioned the reason you hadn’t come back to Baghdad was because of your Hidden One’s training.”

Basim nodded, “That is true. I needed to train hard and remain focused to reach my goal,” he explained, “and in order to do that I needed to take an oath to leave my old life behind.”

It grew quiet between them. He realized what he implied when he saw Nashira frown. Her face remained still, thought he swore he could see the slightest bend in her eye brow like something bothered her.

“Hold on, I didn’t mean- “

“No, do not apologize, I understand.” She assured him, “I’m happy for you. Becoming a Hidden One has always been your dream. Don’t apologize for following that path.” She gave him a small smile.

“You were my dream too.” He wanted to tell her, but remembered how she shut him down when they first reconnected.

Nashira couldn’t help but notice how tired Basim’s eyes looked. The dark circles pooled under them, growing darker since the last time.

“You are happy right? You look so weary,” She said.

Basim didn’t look at her, “I’m fine,” he lied. After killing Fazil Fahim, he saw another vision of the jinni. What used to only haunt him in his sleep now tormented him in his wake as well. He lacked the answers as to why, but it always happened when he slayed one of his targets.

Nashira placed a hand on his shoulder, “Are you sure?” Her eyes grew more concerned as she tried to get him to look at her but he wouldn't. He couldn’t.

Instead he asked her, “Are you happy Nashira?”

Nashira removed her hand from his shoulder. She looked far ahead of her, gazing at the beautiful archway of her home, built for her by a devoted husband who loved her.

“I should be…” She muttered out loud.

Basim looked her way, seeing the forlorn look in her eyes as she stared ahead of her. What did she mean? She had to be happy, right? She had her observatory, this house, a kind and wealthy husband, everything she’d need to live a secure and comfortable life. What was missing from it?

He brought his gaze back up towards the stars. If this was how things were meant to be, how could she be unhappy? How could he be expected to let what they had go if he knew she was unhappy with this life?

He shook his head. No, no, he couldn’t think like that. He was harping on feelings from the past, not focusing on the reality of the present.

He stood up, “I have to go. Master Roshan is expecting me.”

He needed to go. He couldn’t stay a moment longer or he’d say something he’d regret and ruin any chance of them being friends.

Nashira opened her mouth to say something, to tell him to come back, tell him to stay with her, even for just a moment longer.

Instead, all she said was “Goodnight, Basim.”

Basim swallowed hard, “Goodnight, Nashira.” He disappeared into the night.

_____________________________________________

The sun was shining high over Baghdad as Basim leaped across the rooftops to get to the House of Wisdom. Weeks had passed since he assassinated Fazil Fahim and by the looks of things, the House of Wisdom was bouncing back from corruption.

No signs of burning books, people freely walking about, freely discussing their findings and philosophies amongst themselves and their students.

He smiled to himself. It was nice to see the results of his work for once.

He made it to the ledge just above the window into Nashira’s observatory. He grabbed a hold of it and swung himself into the building, landing effortlessly on the floor.

As he stood, he dusted himself off, “Nashira, I have some work for you from Master Rosha-“

He stopped talking when he saw not only Nashira’s wide eyes staring back at him, but about 10 other pairs of eyes as well. All them were young girls, anywhere from thirteen to sixteen years old. They sat together at their desks as Nashira stood in the front with a board showing complicated math equations.

She cleared her throat, “Basim, this is my class.” She turned to her class, “Class, this is my old friend Basim. What do we say to our guests?”

“Assalamu alaikum.” They said in unison.

Basim put a hand to his heart, bowing his head, “Walaikum Assalam. My apologies for interrupting your class, children.” He said, “Perhaps I should come back later.”

One of the younger girls perked up, “Ustadah, why does he dress like a peasant?” She asked

“Fatima!” Nashira used a warning tone in her voice, the kind Basim recognized as the one her father used to let her know she was crossing a boundary.

Basim shook his head, “It is fine ya sayidati,” Basim looked at Fatima, “That is a fine question, young lady. When I was not much older than you, I grew up in Anbar, one of the poorer districts in Baghdad. Because of this, I saw many people and children like yourself go without the things they need and treated poorly by others, myself included,” he explained, clasping his hands behind his back as he spoke, “My clothes are a reminder of the oath I made to help those less fortunate.”

Most of that was true, though the simple answer was that the clothes concealed his identity. These girls didn’t need to know for what reason though.

He continued, “Like all of you, I spent a lot of time in this very room learning as much as I could, thanks to your teacher.” He said, looking over at Nashira.

Nashira smiled softly at him and he returned the gesture. This action did not go unnoticed by her students, who unfortunately for her were growing more and more observant everyday.

One of the girls raised her hand and Nashira called on her, “Yes, Reem?”

Reem smirked, “Is he the reason you tell us not to talk to boys from Anbar?” She teased.

Nashira clapped her hands, “Class dismissed!” She said, completely side tracking that question.

Immediately the girls scurried from their desks and out the doors to the rest of the House of Wisdom, carrying their books with them, breaking off into smaller groups to chat and giggle amongst themselves, stealing glances at their teacher and this mysterious bearded man from Anbar.

When all the students were out of the room, Nashira slowly turned around to face Basim, cringing when she saw his hands on his hips and a cheeky expression on his face.

“And what’s wrong with boys from Anbar?” He asked with a playful tone.

“Nothing! Nothing,” Nashira giggled, “I just wanted to make sure my girls know to look out for their-”

“Sticky fingers?” Basim answered, holding up both hands and wiggling his fingers.

“No,” Nashira pointed to her mouth, “Their slick tongues.” She said before they both burst out into a laugh.

Basim chuckled, “Do your students know what a bad influence you were on me?” He asked.

In their youth, Nashira often dragged him along to parts of the library they weren’t allowed in, or would convince him to use his “sticky fingers” to swipe books about topics her father wouldn’t allow her to read. If they ever got caught, Nashira would distract the guards and stewards so Basim could sneak away with their bounty.

Nashira smirked, “You were a worst one.”

At some point in the middle of their banter they had migrated very close to each other, leaving only a few inches of space between them. They cleared their throats and put more space between them.

“So, what did you come by for?” Nashira asked.

He grinned, “Isn’t it obvious? I’ve come to see my good friend.”

Nashira cracked a smile, only to scoff when he crouched down to pick up the fluffy white cat.

“Halah!” He said in a joyous tone, holding up the chubby cat who purred from the attention.

Nashira thumped his forehead with her finger, “You interrupted my class for that?”

Basim shook his head with a laugh, letting Halah jump out of his arms, “Master Roshan needs to know which stars to follow to get to these locations.” He handed her a parchment with Roshan’s request on it.

Nashira read the parchment. Many of the locations extended out of Baghdad, into areas like Greece, Constantinople, even the Norse lands, “Why does she need to go here?” She asked.

Basim shrugged his shoulders, “I can not tell you what I don't know.”

Nashira tilted her head, “You mean you didn’t ask?” That was so unlike the Basim she knew, who like her, was always nosy to fault. Though it seemed this Basim didn’t question his master on anything.

Basim shook his head.

She rolled her eyes, “More secrets.” She placed the parchment on the table, “Very well, I’ll figure it out in a few hours. Right now I need to go.”

Basim looked confused, “Go where?”

“To Anbar,” She explained, filling a bag with books, “One of my students, Maha, hasn’t been coming to class lately because her mother is sick and she has to watch her younger siblings. So I’m going over there to teach her in her home.”

“Really,” Basim hummed thoughtfully, “I never thought someone from Anbar could afford such a class.”

“Of course she can’t afford it. That’s why I don’t charge her, or any of my students for that matter.” Nashira clarified as she continued packing, “Maha is too bright for me to let her fall through the cracks.”

Basim wasn’t sure what he felt just then, but he found himself smiling at her while she wasn’t looking. He suddenly remembered how she said teaching was how she wanted to better the world around her. It was nice to see her following that call to purpose.

“It is a good thing you are doing, ya sayidati,” he said, “Though I wish we had more time to share a snack of dates and tea.”

Nashira smirked, “Consider yourself lucky. Since you are so eager to spend time with Halah, you can cat sit while I’m gone.” She winked at him, before heading out of the observatory.

#assassins creed #assassins creed mirage #basim ibn ishaq #ac mirage #basim #basim ibn is’haq #basim x oc #assassins creed fanfiction

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delanceyposting · 2 months

Text

Incredibly long post but i wanted to post oscar Alcoholism era on here. Also posted on ao3

1000~ words, cws for alcoholism, violence, and referenced child ab*se. Please ignore things that dont make sense This is the longest Thing that ive written and actually finished in forever

It was inevitable, bound to happen at some point. Maybe it was the cards he had been dealt, or perhaps it was simply a matter of genetics, but one thing was clear and undoubtable; the amount that Oscar drank definitely was not normal.

He snootily claimed that he could stop any time he wanted, but the truth is, he completely lost control the moment he had a beer in his hands. One was never enough to distract him from the vile being he had made out of himself. In fact, one beer could hardly even get him buzzed after his constant series of binge drinking.

Oscar was constantly coming home late at night, then being incredibly hungover in the morning, slumped over a bucket and puking his brains out. But alas, that couldn’t even stop him from going out and doing it again in the same day.

He absolutely despised the lack of control that he had over himself. Sure, he hated not having power over the other things in his life, but not having power over himself was an entirely different story. You can be above everything your life and do just fine, but are you ever truly fine if you aren’t above yourself?

This constant carousal became so prominent that Morris, and even Otto, had to step in. A make-shift intervention, if you will. Oscar was furious over it, screaming that they had no business dictating what he could do to his own body, and that he was going to continue purely out of spite for them.

“Mo, I tried to tell’ya that this whole fuckin’ thing was pointless,” Otto scoffed, arms folded across his chest as he sat sprawled out next to Morris on the tattered couch, “he ain’t even worth it.”

Otto knew how to push his buttons, and unfortunately for him, Oscar wasn’t gonna take it. Already slightly inebriated, and now blinded by rage, he landed a forceful blow to Otto’s jaw before he could even recognize what he was doing. The initial hit had already knocked him out cold, but Oscar just kept brutally socking him with absolutely no mercy. It was like something horrible had possessed him and was taking complete control of his body. In that moment, any and all dominance he had over himself vanished faster than he could count out 20 papes.

It took both the forces of Morris and Wiesel to pry Oscar away from his unconscious, bleeding cousin. When he finally snapped back into reality, he was met with a thoroughly battered and bruised Otto, bright red liquid dripping down from the shallow gashes scattered across his freckled face. His jaw was already swelling from brute force of the first swing. His nose was bent out of shape and very obviously broken.

Funny enough, Oscar couldn’t even recall slipping his brass knuckles on.

Seeing the damage he had done to Otto reminded him of something terrible— something he had suppressed deep inside his memory and vowed to never remember:

The image of 6 year old Morris, contused beyond recognition, bawling his eyes out after Pa had beaten him, all because he tried to hide his beer. He innocently thought that maybe if he couldn’t find where it was, then he would have no choice but to choose Oscar and him over it.

Blood poured from the wounds on his face, mixing with tears and snot as it dripped down and pooled on the floor below. It was pretty normal for their dad to smack them around, but the extent of this beating could never even compare to what they had experienced in the past. It was unlike anything he had ever done to them before.

Still being held back by Morris and Wiesel, he suddenly burst out into tears, inconsolably sobbing just like Morris did way back when. “What is it, Os? Why is you cryin’ now?” His brother spun him around to face him, eyebrows furrowed in both concern and confusion. Wiesel rushed to Otto’s side, taking a good look at his wounds. Oscar didn’t answer, still distraughtly wailing with his shirt balled tightly in his fists. “Os? Ossie?”, he called out, desperately trying to snap him out of this crying spell that he was under. Now genuinely worried by his sudden breakdown, he grabbed his chin and forced Oscar to look him in the eyes. “What is this about, Oscar?” Still very weepy, he managed to spit out the word ‘Pa’. Morris’ face went blank, like a deer in headlights.

Apart from Oscars blubbering, the room went quiet. The tension was so thick that you could cut through it with a knife. Out of the blue, Morris spoke. “You fuckin’ see?” His solemn expression twisted into anger as he grit his teeth. Oscar squinted at him through teary eyes, waiting for him to elaborate. Morris rolled his eyes at his brother’s incompetence. “You fuckin’ see why I ain’t want you drinkin’ like he did?”, he spat, eyes now carrying a fire that wasn’t there before. Oscar just stared back blankly, breathing shakily. His question had snapped him back into reality for a moment.

“You claim t’fuckin’ hate his guts, but you ain’t even takin’ the time t’realize that—“, he pauses, taking a deep breath before finishing his sentence. “—you is him, Os.”

Oscar felt sick, like he could throw up at any moment, and he was sweating like the Dickens, which could’ve very well been from the alcohol resting in his stomach, but who’s to say?

“I’s can do better, Mo,” he grabbed at his brother’s shirt, pulling him closer. “Please, Mo, I ain’t wanna be like ‘im—I’ll do anything, just please help me be better—“ His throat was scratchy and his face ached like he was about to break down crying again. “You better fuckin’ promise me, Os.” Morris grabbed his chin once again, this time much more aggressively. His gaze was intense. Oscar could’ve sworn that it pierced a hole straight through his soul. “I— I promise, Mo— I’on wanna be like ‘im, Mo—“ Before he knew it, he was crying again. Morris just shushed him, wiping his tears away with his sleeve. “Y’ain’t gotta start ya’ cryin’, Os. Just go get Wiesel the first aid kit, eh?” Oscar nodded in response before walking off to fetch it from the cabinet.

Even though he promised Morris that he wouldn’t, even though he swore that he hated the person he was becoming, and that he didn’t want to turn into his father, Oscar returned to the bar that very night.

#newsies #the delancey brothers #morris delancey #oscar delancey #otto delancey #livesies

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sunny-mercya · 1 year

Text

Hey, Brother do you still believe in one another?

02. Exhausted

Heiji Hattori x Male Reader | Platonic! Shinichi Kudo x Brother Reader

Fandom -> Detective Conan/Case Closed

Masterlist | Previous / Next |

Lately I’ve been,

I’ve been losing sleep

Dreaming about the things that we could be

You didn’t want to get up and leaving the comfort of your bed nor the warmth it held. A warmth which was futile, since it couldn't stop the coldness you felt—a coldness which makes the body tremble and teeth clatter. Sometimes during the day it would hit you like a wave and bring you into an uncontrollable tremor.

Puffing out a sigh you turned to your side, snuggling deeper into the heavy blankets. Taking a glance at your frog-shaped clock, you closed your eyes for a few minutes.

You knew sleeping would be impossible, still you tried for a nap every day after school. If it were up to you, you would lay in bed the whole day. You hadn’t felt this tired, no, exhausted since elementary school and all the way till middle school.

Even when you so desperately wanted to sleep, you couldn’t and besides the 15 minutes of dozing, you didn’t know how much you could take of these sleepless nights anymore.

Stretching your body and throwing the blankets off, you got up. Time to get ready, you had promised Ran to come today and take the school worksheets and assessments, she had saved for Shinichi, with you.

Oh, this reminded you to check your phone, again.

Messages unable to send,

Number does not exist.

Resend?

Yes.

No.

About three months has passed since Shinichi has disappeared and still no sign of him. Neither call or message, not even a Mail. Absolut nothing. At first you thought, believed and hoped, after the first 3 Weeks of him gone—that he was simply solving a case somewhere out of Tokyo.

But even when he would have a case, doesn’t matter where, he would have given you a call, Shinichi knew how worried and anxious you could get. You had sent messages without getting any sort of reply.

When you started to call him, one day, and got the Automatic voice of; This number does not exist, the realization had finally sunk in.

A realization that Shinichi wouldn’t come back anytime soon. And a tiny voice, far in the back, was telling nonstop, that Shinichi has died. Was dead and being buried nameless six feet under ground or just decaying away all lonesome by himself—because he hasn’t been found.

And yet you still daily checked your phone for a message from him or resending that one SMS over and over again. Even though you knew very well how useless and pointless it was.

Shinichi's disappearance was the restart point of your exhaust.

»Ah, Conan,«

When Conan turned around to give you a short greeting, the words died on his tongue. Sachiko hasn’t exaggerated with her worry of you.

It was last week, when Ran was meeting up with Sonoko and Sachiko for some Coffee and Cake. Sachiko had told them how much ~his~ Shinichi's disappearance has taken a toll on you. How you lack sleep and the focus for any- and everything.

Sachiko feared that your state of mental health has been affected greatly by it. Sending you back into an endless spiral of harmful ways, bringing the depression—you had so desperately fought to overcome in middle school—back and shattering your, still in process, recovery completely and perhaps for finale.

Besides your worn-out look, you had managed to give Conan one of your genuine smiles with that certain gleam in your eyes. Taking Conan's school bag and shouldering it, you picked him up. Hugging him and smoothering Conans cheeks with kisses.

»Ne, [Name] don’t, I have a cold.« Conan tried to stop the affection you were giving him, as your older Brother it feels a tiny bit embarrassed. Huh? Wait, right. He wasn’t your older brother anymore, nor was he as of current Shinichi Kudo. Because Shinichi was now Conan Edogawa. You hummed with glee, tapping his mask-covered nose.

»And? Doesn’t gonna stop me, now let's get inside. I’m sure Ran has cooked some delicious food for you.«

You knocked shortly on the door of the Detective Agency, before opening it and stepping inside. Still carrying Conan in your arms.

»Hey Ran, I think the kiddo needs some cold medicine and some good food.« You said, not really taking notice of the other person in the room, as you sat Conan down on the couch and putting his bag on the floor.

»Here, the kid shoulda drink this and his cold will be gone,« absentmindedly you’ve taken the cup, which had been pushed into your view. Mumbling a thanks to whoever it was, you gave it Conan. Now that you think about it, the voice sounded familiar. You turned around in confusion and came face to face with Heiji.

»Heiji? What are you doing here in Tokyo? You could have called me,«

»Sorry, I wanted to but I totally forget about it once I came here.« Heiji rubbed his neck sheeplish,

Ran cleared her throat, feeling a just a tiny bit awkward. Standing here and listen to your friendly chatter you were having with Hattori. A question for you formed itself on her tongue,

»You know each other?«

»Yeah we’re boyfriends,« you both answer at the same time. In such a causal tone, sounding as if it was already known.

And while Ran hummed, nodding her head, not really listening to what you both just said, Conan coughed violently at this and almost fall off the couch.

So he is your Boyfriend? The mysterious person for your happiness.

Conan might be a bit, prejudicial, critical about this, but in his opinion Heiji wasn't the right person for you. You deserve only the best and surely there was someone out there, who was a far better match for you.

»What do you mean, Shinichi has called Ran?« you asked, wanting to be sure you heard right.

Before Heiji could answer you, Ran was quick to change the topic. She didn't want to upset you, not any further. You already looked worse and when you knew that Shinichi was only calling her and not once you, she didn't know how you take it and if your mental health would reach its final breaking point with it.

The upcoming disaster were already to start though. Your crestfallen expression has said it all. Ruffling Conans hair one last time, you stood up and taking the Folder from Ran.

»Does Curry for tonight sounds good? Call me when your done with whatever Case,« you asked Heiji and without waiting for any answer you walked out of the office, giving a short wave of goodbye.

I won't sleep,

I can't breath,

Until you're resting here with me

#male reader #anime #manga #x male reader #fanfiction #hattori heiji #heiji x male reader #shinichi kudo #detective conan #case closed #DCMK #detective conan/case closed #heiji hattori

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naomithenomes · 1 year

Text

|| What if Y/N passed out? || Fem!Reader x Bakugou Katsuki || (I also posted this on Wattpad, my user is @nomesthenoms)

Your POV:

You had just gotten off of training with one of the Pros.

You were so tired, you felt like shit, and everything was going to absolute crap. You had barely been progressing with your quirk, even though you skipped a few meals just so you could get to training on time. You felt insecure about your body, too, so you felt that this was perhaps a good opportunity to fast.

Your friends noticed that you were skipping meals, of course, and asked what was wrong. You told them you just weren't hungry, and that you would eat a lot before meals. Or, you would tell them half the truth and say that it was to get to training on time. Your forced, strained smile actually convinced everyone you were telling the truth.

Of course, everyone except Katsuki.

Practically everyone knew Katsuki had a crush on you- except you, yourself. And vice versa. He paid close attention to you, noticed every single detail, and always knew what you were feeling. Same with you.

So when he noticed the change of your pattern in behavior, your fake smiles, the way you would barely eat except the occasional treat- he knew something was wrong. And he would not rest until he knew you were okay. So, he decided to come to your dorm room before class started to confront you about it.

"Hey, Y/N. Are you still sleeping, you lazy ass?"

You awoke to what could only be Katsuki's voice, and responded with your best I'm-totally-awake-I-didn't-just-wake-up-a-second-ago voice. But, because of your drowsiness and loss of nourishment, it would be hard not to know that you just woke up.

"E-eek! Katsuki-kun, is that you? What happened? Why are you at my door?"

"To check on you, you damn idiot. Let me in after you're done changing."

You froze.

"Why would you check up on me? I'm perfectly fine-"

"Just do it. Don't ask fucking pointless questions."

Katsuki could be SUCH a lost case sometimes.

As you got dressed, you panicked internally. "Does he know? Does he know about me fasting? But... but I thought I was convincing! I mean, the others definitely bought it..."

You hesitated for a moment before turning the door handle.

Welp, no turning back now.

Katsuki immediately dragged you to your bed, plopping down on it as the ancient bed frame creaked.

"Why have you been forcing that shitty smile of yours?"

Your E/C eyes widened.

"W-what do you mean, Katsuki-kun? I-I haven't been-"

"You haven't been fucking eating, either. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Seriously? You're so damn bad at acting that it should be obvious."

Suddenly, you felt dizzy. Like, extremely dizzy.

"Y/N, answer me, you damn bitch! Why the fuck haven't you been eating? You're going to get sick if this goes on!"

When you didn't respond, he shook your shoulders and looked you in the eyes with his beautiful, scarlet-red ones.

"Y/N!! You look pale as shit! ANSWER ME, DAMN IT! WHAT'S GOING ON WITH YOU?!"

You wanted to answer, you truly did. But the room was spinning so fast that you fell onto his chest and leaned against it. Your eyes closed, and soon, your consciousness drifted off to a peaceful slumber.

Katsuki's POV:

As Y/N fell against me, I tensed.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

She didn't answer. Her tired eyes were closed shut.

"Y/N?!!"

I started to panic as I shook her shoulders. They were cold and limp.

"Y/N!! WAKE UP, DAMN IT!! WAKE THE FUCK UP!!"

"Bakubro, what-?"

Ah, Shitty Hair.

He gasped. "W-what happened to Y/N-chan?! Did something happen? What-?"

"SHE PASSED OUT!! SHIT, DON'T JUST STAND THERE AND DO NOTHING WEIRD HAIR, GET A FUCKING TEACHER!!"

"R-right!!"

As he ran off, all I could feel was anger. Why was Y/N such a fucking IDIOT?! She starved herself so badly that she ended up passing out!! She...

Even though he tried to convince himself that he wasn't worried, that he was just mad at her for fasting, he couldn't. He was worried. But, of course, he wouldn't show it.

10 minutes later, you were tucked into a bed in the infirmary .

"Ah, so the poor thing starved herself?"

"Fucking obviously!"

Stupid Recovery Hag.

"Just wanted to make sure, dear."

"Tch."

Obviously, I gave her the details. NOT because I was worried about Y/N- Just because the hag was too stupid to figure it out herself. OBVIOUSLY.

"Poor darling. I'm going to talk to her parents and the teachers about this, so they can keep an eye on her. You, too. Make sure she eats, dear."

"Obviously. Do you think I'm that much of an idiot that I'll continue to let her starve, you stupid hag?!"

"No, dear, I was just reminding you. Now, please don't call me such rude names."

"Tch." "Well, I'm going to leave you two alone now. I'll be right in the other room, so call me- nicely- if you need anything."

"Whatever, woman. Anyways, t-thanks for checking up on her, even if you didn't do anything."

"You're welcome, dear. I'm happy to help."

As the hag wandered off to the other room, I subconsciously started to stare at Y/N's face. I even cupped her cheek with my hand, and fuck- even though she was so malnourished, she was so damn pretty.

Fuck.

"I love you, Y/N."

BY THE WAY, I'M STARTING A SERIES ABOUT THIS ON WATTPAD! MY USER IS @nomesthenoms. PLEASE FOLLOW ME LOL

#angst #bakugoukatsuki #bakugou #katsuki #bnha #mha #fanfic #shortfanfic #bakugouxreader #katsukixreader #bakugouxyn #katsukixyn #fluff

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awanderingdeal · 1 year

Text

Just had to write something based on that last Finn artwork.

Both the artwork and the characters and the universe are credited to @lumosinlove

Finn tried to look casual as he leaned against the balcony. It was a beautiful out, the sky a burnt orange where the sun offered its final rays of the day. He was thankful the temperature had yet to drop too much, his chest bare but for the leather knife holster. At least six of his frat brothers had questioned who he was supposed to be and Finn still didn't have answer that wasn't 'generically attractive assassin'. Taking another drag on the cigerette, he wrinkled his nose and tried not to gag this time.

"What are you doing?"

Finn jumped at the familiar lilt, spraying droplets everywhere as he spluttered out, "fuck, Lo! You scared the crap out of me."

"You don't smoke," Logan said.

Hacking his way through another round of coughs, Finn decided it was pointless to even try to argue any experience. When, finally, the tickle at the back of his throat abated, he shrugged. "Thought it'd impress you."

A flash of emotions spread across Logan's features, settling on what Finn knew to be confusion. "Why?"

"Because when we were watching -"

Logan groaned, stepping into Finn's space. He was so close that one small step would have his curls brushing against Finn's cheek. "Please don't tell me you're about to equate yourself with Marlon Brando."

The cigerette continued to burn, but still Finn was sure his cheeks were a greater source of warmth in that moment. "You said it was hot," he insisted.

"For someone so intelligent, you are very dumb sometimes," Logan said with a laugh. The breath whispered across Finn's chest drawing a shiver. "First, that film is from about 200 years ago,"

"I think it was the 50's..."

"The point stands, it gets a lot less attractive when you take modern science into account," Logan continued. "Which leads me onto number 2. Coach is going to kill you."

Finn couldn't argue with that one, so he just stubbed out the cigerette. It had been getting precariously close to his fingers. He ran his tongue over his gums, sure that the smoke had created a film over his mucous membranes leaving a bitter powdery taste he couldn't escape.

"Third, and perhaps most importantly," Logan said, pluking at one of the holster straps. The corners of his mouth curled into a devious little grin. "You absolutely hate the taste, don't you?"

"It's fucking disgusting!" Finn whined.

"Go and brush your teeth," Logan said. He gave an exasperated little sigh which left Finn very much wanting to stay and defend himself. Another sweep of his gums was enough to have him turning back towards the house though. "You know, the costume would have been enough."

Finn spun around on his heel. "What?"

"The costume. Very...attractive," Logan said. Finn didn't know how Logan managed to drip his accent into individual words like that, but he did know Logan knew what he was doing. "Go and clean your mouth and -"

Finn was already pushing back into the chaos of the party before Logan had finished his sentence, fighting his way through a crowd gathered around a keg. "Mouthwash! I need mouthwash!"

#lumosinlove #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #still Harvard but an au #sweaterweather #rating: t

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silvr-skreen · 2 years

Text

Half Past Twelve

A humanformers SG! Fic which exploded into being something bigger than I expected it to and absolutely obliterated me every step of the way!

Humanformers!SG! belongs to @cirilee and Oracle is mine <3

//Also features a head canon about Soundwave speaking and how I think he would speak w/o mask and visor. Also someone put these poor boys to bed lol

He didn't mean to. He never meant to. But Cliffjumper was there and hurting him and it was so easy to make it stop, and he wasn't thinking straight because he could hardly breathe.

And the next thing he knew there was a dead body on the floor and his wrists were bruised up and down from the force that came with choking him out on the chain of his cuffs. Dove tried to press himself against the floor and melt into it, to disappear from sight forever because he was going to suffer for this. Cliffjumper probably would have stopped hurting him eventually, but now he'd been stopped for good.

It was very cold, and the room felt very, very, empty.

"My dear?" Megatron's voice was soft, and it took Dove a sleepy second or two to realize he was not in the cage, or the autobot base, but instead safely back on the Nemesis. He was also on the floor, just because it was too hard to get used to sleeping in a proper bed again right away.

The floor was more comfortable because in a pathetic way, it felt like home.

"Y.... yes?" His voice was hoarse, and he winced silently from the disuse.

"Are you alright?"

"Bad dream."

"Ah," Megatron looked at him, features soft and loving, but not pitying. Megatron never pitied him, or Shockwave, or anybody. He worried about them, but it was in the way that you worried about a house burning down - he knew they were strong and never underestimated them - rather than a flower losing its petals.

Shockwave was... coping. He assumed the scientist was anyways. He never saw very much of Shockwave anymore, unless seeing his back as he turned a corner counted.

"Do you want to talk about it? Or would you like me to make you a warm drink?"

Dove paused, staring at his hands, unbruised but still tingly in the wake of the nightmare. He stood up slowly and shakily, and Megatron silently followed.

The Nemesis was quiet, which made since as most were sleeping by now. With the war as over as it could be - the Prime was gone and the other autobots who refused to even consider compassion silently licking their wounds and their pride - the Nemesis no longer felt like a protection, but a home. The light flickered in the canteen's kitchen - merrily so, perhaps - and Dove smiled faintly into his cup.

Warm drinks may have irritated his throat at first, getting used to them again rather than lukewarm broths, but they were soothing and felt like a hug. The smiled faded.

"Dove... would you care to sit with me?" A genuine question.

Those were hard to wrap his head around too, since every question the autobots ever asked always had two meanings. Nothing was genuine, everything was a ruse. Not here, not anymore. He nodded timidly and sat at one of the long tables, just across from Megatron.

Not wanting to intrude or to poke and prod until Dove was uncomfortable, Megatron let him take the reins. He just didn't know where to begin.

"It was... Cliffjumper," felt like a good place to start, "I had a dream... about Cliffjumper."

Megatron could vaguely picture the short redheaded soldier with the hateful glare and the busted lip. He could not, however, restrain himself from grimacing at the thought.

"He didn't harm you... did he?"

"Only once." Dove rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand and stared into his mug. "I hurt him back. Worse."

He was whispering, not only because his voice still wasn't used to talking so much, but because he was afraid. Being afraid was so pointless though, because it was over.

It was all over. As soon as Predaking killed the Prime in the last battle it came to a gruesome bloody end, and they could move on. They'd get back up and continue forward in the only way they knew how. Slowly and painfully.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Megatron was speaking slowly, both hands cupping his mug as he tried to suppress a silent yawn.

Dove shook his head. He knew he could talk about it; he was allowed to; he wouldn't be punished but he... he couldn't. There was an almost invisible wall, so thin it didn't feel like anything at all, covering his mouth and blocking the words so they couldn't escape. It was just easier not to fight it.

The sound of a door quietly, slowly, creaking open was enough to draw both from their thoughts. Megatron rose to stand, in the event that worst case scenarios may have been happening. They shouldn't but fuck he wasn't taking any chances.

Of course, it was Soundwave, slinking in quietly. He'd taken off his mask and visor - he thought he'd be alone, judging from how quickly he attempted to obscure his face - and he too seemed to be restless. Megatron calmed, and relaxed back down from his anxious high.

"Soundwave, it's late. What are you doing awake?"

The quiet third said nothing, but turned to look at them, hand slowly lowering - Dove could see the wounds inflicted by the mad doctor in the past, a very long time ago, but still scarred over, as if untouched by time - back to his side. His expression too, was soft, but plagued by a quiet disturbance.

He shifted his weight from leg to leg before deliberating and trying to clear his throat. Soundwave spoke less and less since that day, much like Dove, much like Shockwave. The autobots kept them quiet.

"Couldn't. Sleep." He settled on, short and to the point.

"Ah, perhaps you'd like to join us then?"

Soundwave was considering his next thoughts, how to word them, when another face peered round the doorway. The clicking and grinding were enough of a giveaway to make him known even before he could be seen.

"Shockwave, you're awake too?"

"It's like a party." Dove smiled faintly, once again rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand.

"Yes." Soundwave looked over in the direction of the fourth.

Shockwave was tall now. He'd never been tall before but when he'd been captured - escaped after Dove did, no less - Ratchet the Hatchet had ideas on how to enhance soldiers and figured that testing it out on a pacifistic scientist with no real field experience was better than on Dove who'd killed at least one person before.

He was angular too. His hands now claws, sharp and dangerous, with the slightest impression of his metal spine creating prominent bumps on the back of his sweater. His legs made wearing normal pants near impossible so he'd been forced to settle on shorts - fabric really only worked on legs with one joint, and which weren't reinforced steel. Who knew?

"It's late, you two should be resting."

"You two. Resting." Soundwave retorted, leaning against the counter, and gently scratching Shockwave's shoulder blades.

"I uhm... had a nightmare. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

Soundwave was shaking his head; it wasn't his fault. It was so bizarre because it had been his fault. Everything had been his fault. And here was someone telling him to his face that it wasn't.

"He's right you know. Nightmares happen to the best of us." Megatron was speaking quietly, in part to give Shockwave and Soundwave their weird affectionate time, and in part to be compassionate to him. To him.

"I've had them before too, and they aren't moral failings. They're part of what it means to exist. They don't make you a bad person, even if you're the bad person in the nightmare. They're just your mind trying to make sense of the world.

"Sometimes your mind just gets confused and mixes up all the events. And that's okay."

Dove paused, staring at the table and still, for all the world, feeling like Megatron wasn't correct. He did kill Cliffjumper, and no matter how nice he tried to be to himself, how much he tried to get better he just kept slipping backwards and making mistakes.

Maybe he was the mistake.

"No."

Soundwave, quiet and introverted he may be, could still command a room if the need arose.

"You're...not. No."

He sounded certain of himself. His own voice hoarse, but there were tears in the corners of his eyes. Shockwave was looking between them both and trying to puzzle out where this was coming from, a claw gently tap-tap-tapping on Soundwave's shoulder.

"I'm not saying that it's just very hard to make progress, and sometimes I do wish it weren't so."

"Your thoughts. Obvious." Soundwave may have been smiling, trying to banter with him for old times' sake, though he looked like he may have been on the verge of crying for real.

"Hmph... I don't think that loudly." His wit wasn't quite acidic any longer, but it seemed to work. Especially so when he quietly patted the spot next to him.

They found themselves sitting there and talking quietly about nightmares and coping strategies, and all the drama on the Nemesis - most of which was really just speculation about Knockout and Breakdown's attempts to co-parent even if they weren't in a relationship any longer, and that time Breakdown tried to help him and managed to trip over air. It was somewhat funny in retrospect.

Shockwave and Soundwave were - like Dove and Megatron - seated across from one another, and Soundwave was very gently holding onto Shockwave's claws, thumbing the joints where rust was gathering.

None of them remembered exactly how they spent a good three hours speaking in the canteen, nor how the next four hours were spent sleeping sitting down. But they did remember a bleary return to the waking world at seven thirty.

Specifically, because Shockwave's son - Dove recalled, distantly, Arcee once calling him spawn and very nearly getting her face re-arranged for the trouble - tiptoed in and tried to sneak past to take the empty mugs so he could wash them, only for Shockwave to jolt awake, kick the underside of the table, and for everybody to be awake afterwards.

At least nobody was hurt, and it was a very momentary startle, besides, he'd been trying to help.

"Mornin' guppy."

"Oh, good morning... sorry to wake you guys." He gave a very meek smile, and if you didn't look too hard you could mistake his face for completely human, which was odd because much of his genealogy actually came from sharks. Dove was, however not one to question that.

Besides, any wider a smile and you could actually see his teeth and realize that no, he wasn't quite human.

"It's alright, you were just helpin out." Shockwave sounded so casual, and it wasn't hard to see why. In spite of the shark genes, he was docile as could be, much preferring to be with the Decepticons rather than hunt fish, or people.

Oracle's face turned a bizarre shade of blue and he squeaked out a response before rounding the corner and disappearing into the kitchen.

"Cute kid." Dove said with the tiniest of smirks.

"Shockwave's. That's why." Soundwave retorted with a grin of his own.

#fic #humanformers!SG #humanformers #cirilee's lil dudes are just sitting there #oc: oracle

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armatization-a · 1 year

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@fatesblade — from here

It's been years since the war ended. Years since Ryoma learned that Kagetsu left. The years haven't lessened the ache, and haven't eased his guilt. Ryoma wishes, even now, that he hadn't pushed Kagetsu as he did. He wished he understood that Kagetsu simply would never be king. He should have known. He should have understood his son better.

It's no wonder that Ryoma never told Shiro that he was a Hoshidan prince, nor had he told Asahi that she was the princess. Never again would he hurt his children. It would be their choice to do as they please when the time came.

The time has long been and gone. They have both made their choices, and he's proud of what they have become, but he has always wondered about Kagetsu. He has searched, he has been searching for years, but he has long accepted that Kagetsu will never come home.

Ryoma cannot blame him. All he can do is wish him well.

He was in the middle of sorting out some paperwork when someone announces that he has a visitor who wishes to see the king - alone. The room is immediately cleared. He can only guess; perhaps it's Xander. He's never been fond of the Hoshidans glaring at his every movement.

But it's not Xander. Ryoma's hands tighten in his lap as he looks at the man entering. He doesn't know how to react. He has his grandfather's dark hair, with the tinge of purple from his mother. How long has it been? Ryoma doesn't know if he wants to run to him or yell, but neither option will help. They will both worsen things. He forces his hands to relax, though they clamp shut again almost immediately.

"Kagetsu," he says by way of greeting. His son is all grown up now; no more is he the boy with the world on his shoulders. His heart aches at the memory, at those wasted years. There's no use dwelling now.

He listens to Kagetsu without another word, and remains quiet for a moment longer. No, he was never the High Prince. It's not because he's incapable, and it's not because Ryoma would never allow it.

It's because Kagetsu is Kagetsu. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"I know." Finally, his hands relax, curled loosely around his knees. "The moment I heard you had gone, I knew you would never return." Even now, he can hardly believe Kagetsu is right in front of him. The urge to wrap him into a hug is stronger now. His wonderful son, who absolutely loathes Ryoma. He would, too.

"After that, I resolved to never force either of your siblings into the role, nor you, even if you returned." But Shiro is learning; after his travels, he insisted on taking the throne. Ryoma had never been more shocked - and more proud.

Until now, at least, when the prodigal son returns. Though this time, it's the shock that wins out.

Ryoma rises. His legs cry out in pain as he's freed from his kneeling position, but he doesn't care. He takes slow, deliberate steps towards Kagetsu, afraid that he'll run away if he rush. He still might. Ryoma hopes he won't. The only sound that fills the room is the slow tap tap of his feet on the floor. He stops just a couple of metres away. He wants to close the distance, but he knows better.

Ryoma doesn't want to speak as the king and his disappointment of a prince. He wants to speak as Ryoma, a man who is seeing his beloved son for the first time in a very long time.

"I was disappointed, at first." Ryoma can't lie, even to spare Kagetsu's feelings. It's pointless anyway. "But I realised my disappointment was misplaced, and I was disappointed at myself instead. I am ashamed of the way I treated you." He fights back the wobble in his voice. He must be strong for both of them. That's what a father is supposed to be.

"I have spent many years reflecting on this. You were never going to be the High Prince, because you didn't want it. You always wanted to be free. Instead of letting you, I crushed you and tried to force you." He hates himself. That old anger rises back to the surface - how could he do that? How could he hurt his son so terribly? If his father were alive, he too would be disappointed. He still feels a twitch of scorn when Ryoma visits the ancestral burial grounds.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. You have grown up so much since I saw you last." He wants to reach over so desperately, but he mustn't. Kagetsu is not Shiro: he won't take the sudden affection well. "You're a man now, and you've made your own path in life. No matter where you go now, know that I'm proud of you. I have always been proud of you. I should never have pushed you to be someone you aren't."

He inhales deeply. "Kagetsu, I am sorry. I'm sorry for all that I've said, all that I've done, and all that I have even implied. I'm sorry for the way I've treated you." His voice breaks. He must regain himself. He can't. He swallows, and that seems to help. "I can't take back those years, but I can apologise now. You have always been worthy - I was the problem. It was never you."

He can't take it back, but he can make a better future, even if Kagetsu never returns after this. Ryoma won't tell him that it was a learning experience, because Kagetsu is worth more than that. If anything, perhaps seeing his siblings might make him understand how truly sorry Ryoma is, and how he has learned. He didn't hurt them like he hurt his eldest, though Kagetsu shouldn't have been hurt, either. They can't live in the past.

"I understand that you can't stay, but you're always welcome to stay here. I know that Shiro and Asahi would love to see you."

And I would be happy, too. There's no point in saying it.

#↻┊ RYOMA ( in character. )#fatesblade #cut for length #i. good lord. he had a lot to say. i'm very sorry he just went OFF

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cat3ch1sm · 2 years

Text

🍀|HEY GUYS

💚|y'all were really open to the hxh thing and im thrilledd! so i bring y'all a hisoka x reader NSFW- it's kinda unfinished so it doesn't get super smutty, though it's heavily implied. it's kinda like a sneak peek of something except im not actually publishing anything else to do with this particular piece. however i did come up with another idea~

🐢| enjoy, ily!

Hisoka x Reader NSFW short

"I'm sorry I had to put you in such a... compromising position. It was the only way you'd keep still, you see."

"You'll find it rather pointless to try and break away- the bonds I have used are a quite durable material, and with a tad bit of my Bungee Gum infused into them as well, they are nearly invincible."

"Oh, and your Nen- it will be of no use to you. With my Elastic Love, I have also rendered you into a state of Zetsu- one that cannot be exited until you are free from the bonds."

You were spread out across a rather large bed- legs and arms apart, sprawling out on your back. There were several rubber band looking items tying your wrists and ankles to the bed, seemingly easy to snap- but several minutes of struggling had proved otherwise. The room you were in was your hotel room- completely dark except for the indigo of the night sky outside of your open balcony sliding windows, the curtains flapping in the gentle breeze- Hisoka hadn't bothered to shut them after breaking into your room; he was far too cocky- he knew he could clear every last trace of himself in here when he needed to.

Because of the sock-tasting gag in your mouth, you could do nothing more but thrash in vain against the bonds as the tall magician watched, a half-smile on his lips, leaning against the wall beside the bed with one leg propped up on it.

You made a strangled sound through the gag, and Hisoka's sharp golden eyes darted towards you, briefly meeting your furious ones before chuckling quietly.

"Unrelenting." he noted, a pleased expression on his painted face. Slowly, he pushed his body off of the wall and sat down casually beside you, arms folded across his chest as he titled his head down to observe your heavily breathing and sweating figure.

"Hm... I was hoping you'd look like this a little later rather than now; I haven't even begun yet." His signature taunting purr echoed through the empty room, silent except for your muffled, gasping breaths.

"Well, better late than never, I suppose," Hisoka mused, lowering a long finger to your face and gently tracing shapes on your skin with his sharp nail. Then, he reached into your mouth and plucked out the gag- but immediately clapped his hand over your lips roughly the second he did.

"Scream, and I will kill you," he warned, voice smooth and hissing. "I removed this for one purpose- so I can hear your pretty screams and whines when I begin to break you."

Your face began to burn- but from what emotion, you weren't sure. You were incensed, but you weren't dumb- Hisoka would certainly kill you if it came down to it. You weren't weak either, but with your Nen disabled, your limbs bound, and your weapons elsewhere, you were worthless if you tried to fight against the eccentric clown. So, all you could do was nod.

You had a pretty good idea of what Hisoka wanted to do to you anyway- so if you simply did not indulge in it whatsoever, not giving him what he wanted, perhaps he would lose interest and leave. It was your only hope for now.

Hisoka smiled seductively and removed his hand, the taste of his hot palm bitter on your unwilling lips. "Very good, darling. Now, shall we begin our fun?"

You didn't respond, sticking to your earlier strategy and keeping your eyes averted. Hisoka, however, paid no mind to your feigned disinterest and leaned down carefully, almost delicately to meet your lips, a quiet and low moan emitting from his throat. The thought of seeing your perfect, usually idle face flushed, sweating, drooling, crying out for him was absolutely divine- and the longing, the animalistic lust he had been harboring for you ever since first laying eyes on you at the Hunter Exam could no longer be satiated. Hisoka was going to have you; you were going to belong to him no matter what.

Your parted lips tasted of saccharine candy; and Hisoka deepened the kiss, taking your chin in his index finger and thumb to force your mouth into his. His own lips were unexpectedly soft, and your eyes widened as the honeyed taste flooded your mouth. Hisoka, sensing your small gasp on his lips, licked your bottom lip and gently bit it, gaining entrance into your mouth. The bite sent a strangely pleasurable jolt of pain along your lips, and you let out a tiny involuntary whine. Hisoka smirked against your mouth as his long and hot tongue slid past your lips and met your tongue, instantly dominating it, and you found you were losing your breath.

Before long, Hisoka pulled away, leaving you gasping softly as you tried to regain your composure. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy- and almost frightening lust was dripping through his tone. "Y/N, you taste absolutely intoxicating."

You didn't say anything- but the act was already getting difficult to stick with. If Hisoka could make you feel like this with just a kiss...

"Still being stubborn, are we? Oh, what a bother." Hisoka stuck out his bottom lip in a childlike fashion, pretending to be annoyed- but without warning, he dove for your neck and began to kiss you there, intent on eliciting those pretty sounds from you.

Hisoka's lips trailed down your neck, sucking and licking- and you had to bite your lip to keep from making any noise. All you could see was his wild hair as his lips massaged your skin. The pleasure was beginning to get to you- clearly, Hisoka was experienced at this. His wet tongue slid over your sensitive neck skin, and you felt his teeth lightly nibble on your ear- he was definitely trying to get a reaction from you. Your legs writhed in their bonds as the feeling began to arouse your lower region- your body was very rapidly betraying you.

"Mm..." you couldn't contain it any longer, and a moan escaped you involuntarily.

Hisoka sat up abruptly, pleased that he'd finally drawn a sound out of you. "Ah, yes- that's more like it. Unfortunately, that's hardly enough to satiate my desire- so I'll need you to make many, many more of those pretty noises for me, alright?"

🍡 | UH THATS PRETTY MUCH IT- SORRY ITS SO SHORT BUT I LOST MOTIVATION SO

🌵| at least it's something right ;D

🐸| anyways keep an eye out for more hxh smut as well as death note! ilysm, bye!! remember, requests r always open <3

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cinnbar-bun · 3 years

Text

Diluc Finding Out S/O Had Their Vision Taken

A/n: spoilers for Genshin Act 2, I just my fave cuz.,,, big love for him. Also angst. Reader is not the traveler!!

He is not one to harp on you or tell you where you need to go or what you should do. He trusts you fully. You are his lover, and as such, he puts his complete faith in you. You are strong, brave, and kind. Surely nothing too grave could happen?

As much as he tries to delude himself with detached statements of how you’ll be fine, he does worry. Sometimes he worries about what would happen if he couldn’t help you.

Work and business keeps you both preoccupied, and many times you both would be estranged for many days- perhaps even months- at a time.

But he tries to assure himself. You were his most trusted spy and intelligence agent, and you are his lover now. You are more than capable of handling anything.

You informed him you would be joining the Traveler on their journey to Inazuma. You had become attached to the poor thing after helping them a few times, and you felt it invaluable to learn about the situation in the closed off Land of Eternity.

He knew of the dangers. You knew of the risks. He wanted so bad to tell you to forget that place. To tell you it was pointless, unnecessary, absolutely worthless compared to the utter horror you would have to face.

But he held his tongue. He was a man of few words, instead pressing a kiss against your forehead and hanging his ring around your neck on a chain. You did the same back. A reminder you both were connected, no matter how far.

He expected rough travels and perhaps a few scars coming back. He expected new information, your smiling face and tired yawn over how exhausting the trip was.

What he didn’t expect was to see Paimon and the traveler return to Mondstadt with anxious expressions on their face.

“Traveler. Paimon. Is something the matter? Where is (Y/n)?” He asks. His heart beats quicker. God. Please. Don’t let his nightmares be true.

“Well… you see…” the traveler begins. They can’t face him.

“Hehe… it’s um, a super funny story. Haha, you’d never believe it. Almost as much as believing that (Y/n) got their vision stolen!” Paimon awkwardly added.

“Paimon-!” The traveler hissed, frowning at them and Paimon covered her mouth.

“I mean! Um! It’s not that bad!! At least they’re alive… right?” Paimon tried to fix her slip up but Diluc couldn’t hear a thing.

“They… what?” He can’t believe it.

“It’s best you see for yourself.” The traveler took Diluc to the bar where you were sitting, a drink in hand as Kaeya and Venti were trying to tell a terrible joke.

Your eyes were faded. Dead. You looked like a zombie, a hollow shell of the person he loved. You did not smile, you did not even look at the two trying to get any sort of emotion out of you. Just as Paimon said, your vision was gone.

“Do you mind…? Please leave me. I have a terrible headache.” You murmured.

Diluc walked towards you, and Kaeya and Venti knew better and stood aside.

“(Y/n)?” He asked, unsure if this was truly you. He swallowed his pride. “My love?”

It was the first time he had ever publicly said something like that. Your relationship was shrouded in mystery and kept quiet beyond a few people.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You asked.

His heart shattered. He couldn’t talk, couldn’t even form a sentence to respond to what you asked. Please be a cruel, sick joke. Please tell him this was a lie and that-

“I don’t remember ever meeting you. Actually, I don’t really remember anything. This young adventurer over there and their floating partner has taken me here, saying I was from here but… truly I can’t recall a thing. It’s all a haze.”

“I’m sorry. I must have mistaken you for someone else.” Diluc said. He stared down before he quickly walked out of the tavern, slamming the door behind him.

How was he supposed to react? How was he supposed to act with you knowing you remember nothing about him? Nothing about the two of you and all you’ve done?

He cursed the gods and everything around him. If this was their idea of a joke, he did not find it funny. Time after time, everything he loved was taken from him. Was he ever allowed to be happy and love, knowing he was cursed?

“How could he say that?! What a jerk! Who does that to someone they love?” Paimon angrily huffed.

The traveler nearly followed him out the bar before Kaeya placed a hand on their shoulder.

“Be gentle with him. He’s hurting incredibly bad. I know him very well, and he may not admit it but he’s truly heartbroken. I don’t want to hurt him more so… take care of him for all of us, okay?”

They nodded before catching up with the young lord.

“Diluc! Please! Wait-!”

“Leave me alone, traveler. I have work to complete.”

“Please-“

“This has been a complete waste of my time. I will not ask again for you to leave me alone. I do not wish-“

“I’m sorry!” They shouted, tears streaming down their face as they sobbed loudly. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

He stopped walking. He stood still for a few moments as the traveler cried and begged for forgiveness.

“You’re sorry? Sorry for what has happened to them? Truly?”

“Huh?” The traveler looked up to see Diluc clench his fists tightly.

“You think sorry will fix this? You think sorry will give back their vision, their memories, their ambitions? You think sorry can help them remember what had happened to them?”

“I-“

“You’re wasting your breath. Save it. I do not wish to hear anymore. It’s not me you should be apologizing to. You took their life. Not mine.” He glared coldly. He walked away, leaving the traveler alone as his figure slowly grew smaller.

He goes home and immediately reads the letters you sent him. Whether they were business or personal, he kept them all.

Diluc came across one letter. One that changed your relationship forever.

“I love you, Diluc. Nothing will ever stop me from coming back to you and being by your side.”

He couldn’t control himself now. His eyes watered as all his feelings burst like a dam.

God, he should be grateful you were alive. Why couldn’t he be content knowing you were back here?

The tears fell onto the letter, dampening and smudging the ink on the old paper.

Why did this hurt worse than anything ever before?

In an instant, he grabbed a match and lit it up, placing it near the letters and setting some of them aflame. Watching the letters burn sent him spiraling.

‘My lord’ ‘I love you’ ‘great news’ ‘I have been thinking of you’

The words flashed in his head before he threw them to the ground and stomped out the flame. Many were charred and burned, and he crumbled to the ground.

God. Why? Why did it have to be you? Why did it have to happen? Why did you go? Why didn’t he just say anything to keep you here?

#genshin impact #diluc x y/n #diluc x reader #diluc #angst #genshin impact x reader #long post #vision hunt decree

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merakiui · 3 years

Note

I was reading through your tags and you mentioned at some point the kazuscara roommates finding your onlyfans and I think I completely combusted—thus i present to you my brain rot of late: you attend the same school as them but you’re not actually friends, all you know about kazuha is that he’s the friendly regular at the cafe you work at, who makes polite conversation every now and then but otherwise is nothing of note. In reality he’s been stalking you for weeks ever since your first encounter, and is dead set on the idea that you’re this innocent, weak thing that needs to be protected (maybe he stepped in when you had a bad customer and your meek reply helped fester his delusions?). Scara, on the other hand, is only aware of your presence since you’re his favourite cam model that he recently found. (Since he’s a harbinger he’s probs loaded) Weeks of funnelling money towards you cause him to feel this unwarranted possessiveness, believing that since he’s been providing so much in your “relationship” that it’s time you reward him in turn. However, despite the unbridled interest they have toward you neither are aware of each other’s feelings for you— that is, until you happen to run into the both of them heading to your class. While both are known for maintaining their stoic masks, they’re friends for a reason— and instantly can tell the attraction their roommates have towards their own “lover”. After kazuha finds your onlyfans he’s certain that you’ve been coerced and wants to save you, while scara thinks it’s time that he’s stopped letting other plebeians look at his possession—so, despite their initial reservations, come together to form the ideal plan. When you find yourself waking up groggy in a room you don’t recognize, all they can do is look on with glee whilst planning their next course of action with their new belonging. They’re friends after all, and good friends share though, don’t they?

This is v long srry lol you can ignore this ofc!!

AAAH, ANON!! YES!!! <3 I couldn’t resist writing more on this concept. orz They make for such a terrifying pair when they work together!

(cw: yandere, stalking, nsfw, implied kidnapping/drugging, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, delusional thoughts, savior complex, implied violence)

What if Kazuha and Scara were just acquainted with one another and actually became closer through their mutual obsession with you? Yes, they’re roommates and ought to get along because they’re living together but they haven’t exactly clicked yet. They talk every now and then and know little things about each other. Nothing too special. They don’t really hang out outside of their dorm either, what with their class schedules being vastly different. And Kazuha’s always out of the dorm doing who-knows-what. Most of his time is spent at a café, where he’ll write and read and stare at you while you work. On the other hand, Scara prefers to stay inside if he doesn’t have a good reason to go out. He likes his alone time. Although he has enjoyed going to the library every now and then to study.

So maybe they need to find some common ground. Maybe they need a push in the right direction before they get closer.

Kazuha likes to stare. Talking to you is great, but he worries he’ll say too much and then he’ll be a nuisance, or you might not want to talk to him at all since you’re working. But you always regard him with a warm smile, happy to scribble his name on the plastic cup because you remember him. Because you recognize his familiar face and soft, gentle eyes. He’s the one who saved you from that rude customer, after all, and he’s a polite regular. Why wouldn’t you know him? You might look like you can handle those types of situations, but what Kazuha saw that day was something entirely different. You were nervous—so soft-spoken and scared. He absolutely has to protect you from those kinds of people now, doesn’t he?

And he does exactly that. He’s your second pair of eyes—your valiant knight in shining armor—who sees and hears all. Sometimes he goes to the café with the intention to simply watch over you and make sure no one’s bothering you. He can recall one time when a customer was speaking rudely about you because her drink hadn’t been prepared in a ‘timely manner.’ In reality it’s impossible to make a drink within a few seconds, especially when you’re already preoccupied with making another customer’s drink. She must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, or maybe she’s just a hateful person in general. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such fiery insults, though.

Her eyes just can’t see your perfection and therefore she does not deserve to see out of them.

Kazuha’s willing to wrestle with all of this darkness if it means you’ll stay safe, oblivious, and pure. You’re like a defenseless kitten, unable to protect yourself from the scary world. He writes about you a lot in his journal; you’re his muse—someone who constantly shows up in poems and short paragraphs where he tries to describe what your dream date might be or what type of wedding you’d prefer. Things get darker the deeper you delve into his writings, where you’ll find entries in great detail. Kazuha writes a lot and he doesn’t even mean to. He just has to get all of his thoughts on paper before they abandon him and he’s left with emptiness.

Everything you do is pure; you’re almost an equivalent to a holy being. Your smell is pure. Your body is pure. Your actions are pure. Your smile is pure. Even when you’re on the verge of crying from harsh customers or when you’re turning down a confession, you’re still pure. And Kazuha likes that about you because it’s special. There aren’t many people in his life who are completely pure. He’s been through a lot of rough things and has seen firsthand how impure people can be. It’s only fair that he gets a chance to protect purity itself.

He might have some impurities, but that doesn’t deter him from watching over you. As gentle and unassuming as he is, there are times when even he loses his composure. Not many are privy to these dark emotions of his. His smiles are sharp and venomous and his eyes fill with a gloom so dark it can swallow you whole. You’ll never see this side of him; he won’t allow it. Instead you’re treated to his sweet, calm side, where he feigns perfection in hopes of catching your interest.

As for Scara… He doesn’t really care about Kazuha in the beginning. He’s just someone he has to live with. It’s not a big deal and as long as he doesn’t try to make lots of pointless conversation everything will be okay. He prefers the peace and quiet, considering he’s acquainted with people who are far from peaceful and quiet. Scara’s relieved that Kazuha leaves the dorm so often because it gives him an opportunity to watch his favorite cam star’s most recent video. He’s your most loyal follower—someone who’s paid lots of money just to have access to the highest tier of rewards and such. He even got a private video where you addressed him and moaned out his name with lustful thoughts of him. Having lots of money comes in handy.

When he finds out that you go to the same school as him, he’s a little shocked. He didn’t expect you to be so close. You’re practically within touching distance. If only he knew your schedule. If only you were in one of his classes. It’s really annoying that he only knows your online presence and not who you might be in your personal life. The last thing he’s going to do is consult Childe, that popular athlete who knows literally everyone in the school for whatever reason. Surely he knows you. But he’ll die before he ever asks Childe for a favor.

Scara loves you out of every other cam model because you’re different. You’re not just trying to get fast cash. You’re genuine. You listen to your subscribers and their feedback. You do your best to improve and do even better streams than the previous ones. All of your hard work is overlooked by the other fools who watch your streams, but it isn’t overlooked by him. Scara appreciates your attention to detail and the way you’re able to hook him with your breathless voice alone. You’re very skilled at what you do, so it’s only fair you get paid for it.

But buying your services isn’t enough. It’s not a real relationship, but it certainly feels like it when he buys preferential treatment. Private shows, special requests, odd favors—you do it all because he pays for it. But this relationship isn’t going to be one-sided forever. You’ll have to pay him back in full eventually. Scara likes to think he has patience and that waiting is fine. It gives him more time to plan his next move—to figure out what he should do to finally have you all to himself. So that those private shows he watches through a screen can finally be real.

Scara finds the journal sitting innocently on Kazuha’s bed, its maroon cover and maple leaves pulling at his curiosity. He might not know everything about Kazuha, but he’d recognize this journal anywhere. His roommate almost always has it on his person. Scara wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with it. To say he’s curious would be absolutely correct. He can only wonder what Kazuha writes in that thing. Perhaps it’s just notes for a class. That’s what anyone would think, right?

Scara opens it and flips through the first few pages. They’re normal for the most part. Just a bunch of haikus and other useless scribbles. When he skips over some pages, he starts to find things that are far more interesting than poetry and doodles of cats. He finds the majority of the journal is comprised of information. More specifically, there are facts and other knowledge about you—the cam model he’s been obsessed with ever since he stumbled upon your onlyfans. He reads through as much of the journal as he can and instantly learns so much: your address, your roommate, your workplace, your friends’ names, names of any potential exes. The list goes on and on.

Scara doesn’t have anything against Kazuha. His first impression of him wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He thought he was a pushover at first. But now that he knows what this journal holds… Well, it sheds an entirely new light on his roommate.

Just days before Scara took a peek inside his journal, Kazuha discovers your secret online life. He snoops through Scara’s laptop when he steps out, having left it open and unlocked. He’s just trying to find what could have caught Scara’s interest, as he’s almost always glued to his laptop on specific days at specific times, with his headphones on and his gaze unyielding. He doesn’t intend to find the file of one of your private videos—something that was meant only for Scara’s eyes.

He clicks on the video out of interest. He’s not sure what he was expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t this. Kazuha sits there and stares at the sight before him. You’re dressed in skimpy lingerie and you’re muttering the dirtiest things while coating your fingers in lube. And your hands are stroking a thick toy and you’re addressing Scara and you’re lining it up to your hole and— He shuts the laptop before it can get even more explicit than it already is. He’s so conflicted, fraught with a betrayal so strong it weighs his heart down.

Why would he have this sort of video on his laptop? Did you give it to him? Did he make you do this? Are you in danger? Are you still pure?

Kazuha can’t kill on campus. It’s way too risky and he’d be one of the first suspects if Scara’s body is found. Besides, it’s not like he has the full story. He doesn’t know whether or not Scara’s done something that’s worthy of death. You could just be in a tight spot. He knows how easily you give in when you’re under pressure. Maybe you’re just doing this because you feel like it’s the only thing you can do. Not to worry; Kazuha will save you before Scara can ruin your purity with his twisted fantasies.

They confront each other when the time feels right. Kazuha struggles to keep a smile plastered to his face for the sake of politeness, while Scara holds in his raging temper so that he can bear some semblance of cooperation. Neither of them is happy to hear that the other went through their stuff, but they force themselves to make up because a more pressing issue is at hand: their connection to you.

Kazuha says he’s your secret admirer. Scara says he’s in a relationship with you. There’s no way you’d ever date someone like Scara—Kazuha knows this for a fact. Yet he falters at the confidence in Scara’s tone. That can’t be the truth, right? Despite this, Kazuha still strikes up an offer: If they work together to get what they both want, they’ll be unstoppable. With Scara’s riches and his influence and Kazuha’s charisma and clever thinking, they can easily get their hands on you. Of course this means they’ll have to share, but it’s not a big deal when they’re already in so deep. They both know the other’s secret; now they’re swearing to keep it in the pursuit of having you all to themselves. And luckily Scara agrees to the deal, but that doesn’t give Kazuha a reason to lower his guard.

However despite how well they work together when it comes to planning the kidnapping and actually executing it, they both have their own reasons for wanting you. Scara wishes to make his relationship with you a reality—to toss aside the screen that once held him back and finally do all of the things he could only do in his dreams. Kazuha seeks to protect your fragile heart, lest you crumble under Scara’s intense way of doing things and cling to him for salvation. You can’t do those sorts of things with Scara; he won’t allow it. Your purity is meant for him and no one else.

But sharing is caring and some have to learn that the hard way. It definitely brings Kazuha and Scara closer together, even if neither of them will admit it. If they look past their desires, they can be friends. And soon enough they’ll have to accept this new friendship if they want to avoid any unnecessary complications.

However there are times when they’ll cooperate in order to do things with you. They’re a packaged deal you can’t get rid of.

#chit chat #yandere #yandere kazuha #yandere scaramouche #kazuscara roommates #ty for feeding me anon orz #i like the idea of them being friends on the surface #but beneath that they're willing to abandon the other in order to meet their desires #but when they come together they're a force to be reckoned with #aaah i could go on and on with this concept #but i don't want to ramble #ANYWAYS TY AGAIN ANON <3 YOUR BRAIN IS SO LARGE #🧸 anon

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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woman’s world - chris evans smut

The one where Chris pisses you off during a panel, but then finds a way to apologize

Warnings: age gap, famous!reader, oblivious Chris, smut, unprotected sex

Chris’ P.O.V.

The panel had gone well, or as well as it could go when everyone was trying to push the idea of Y/N and I together. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to pursue something with her - quite the opposite in fact. I was completely infatuated with the young actress, but the problem was just that: she was young. Too young for me, probably. So it was becoming harder and harder to deal with everyone commenting on how great we would be together when it was already all I could think about, and there was nothing I could do to make it come true without looking like an absolute predator.

Still, there was no denying that my favorite part about this particular press tour had been getting to spend time with her. She was just the perfect company, especially in a situation like this, which frankly could easily become tiresome and irritating. She just had this way of being able to read me and know what I needed, so she’d easily take over when she noticed an interviewer was getting on my nerves or overstepping some boundaries.

She was quickly becoming my favorite person, but unfortunately, the rest of our cast had noticed as much. And so that meant that for the last day or so, I’d forced myself to pull away from her, deliberately sitting as far away as possible and not even glancing her way whenever there was a camera around. I even managed to have a quick reaction when the panel moderator joked about us being the perfect couple, and I was proud of how my cry of “She’s a kid, for God’s sake!” had made everyone laugh, even my friends who had been keen on insisting I should ask her out.

So needless to say, I was in a good mood. Such a great mood, in fact, that I’d decided to ask Y/N to come back to my room so we could grab a beer and watch some movies. Asking around for where she had gone, someone pointed in the direction I thought I’d seen her head to, and after a couple of seconds, I managed to see her in the middle of the sea of people. Then it was just a matter of smoothly dodging everyone trying to lure me into pointless conversations and then she was already within ear reach.

Or so I thought, at least. I tried calling her name countless times, but she didn’t look back once. In fact, she even quickened her step, and soon enough I had to physically run so I could follow her into the elevator that could take us to the floor where we were staying.

I didn’t think too much of it, considering she probably thought I was someone else and was doing the same as I was: trying to dodge anyone who wanted to make us stay a bit longer on the crowded floor where the convention was taking place. But then we were inside the elevator and she didn’t even turn to look me in the eye.

More importantly, when I reached out to rub my thumb on her wrist, to signal that I wanted to hold her hand, the response I got was a harsh, “Is this your way of subtly hinting that you want to hold my hand? Because it’s quite cute, but I’m not in the mood for that at all.”

The attitude caught me by surprise in such a way that I was only able to snap out of it once the elevator’s doors opened, but before I could ask what the fuck was going on, she had ran out of it, walking towards her room with determination.

Oh no, she wouldn’t. There was no way I was letting her hide in her room, angry at me, when I didn’t even know what I’d done wrong. I sprung into action, running after her and managing to hold the door just before she was able to slam it in my face.

“What’s going on?” I cried out, pushing my way inside the room as she just stared up at me with hurt eyes and a pout on her lips. “What did I do?” Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms while looking away from me, before I managed to pull her closer by her wrists when I pried her arms open again. “Talk to me, c’mon.”

She glanced at me with furrowed brows, quickly averting her eyes before looking back again with an unamused expression. “You’re really gonna act like you don’t know.” Anxiety coursed through my veins at a scary pace. It was clear that I’d hurt her, but I had no idea how!

“I really don’t know!” I cried out, begging her to answer me, so I could make this better. I couldn’t bear the thought of offending her, of possibly losing her… and her friendship. Since that was all I could get from her, I was gonna fight with everything to keep it. “Please, let me make it up to you.”

For a second, it seemed like she would relent. But when her eyes met mine again, it was clear that whatever she saw on mine reminded her of the reason that she was mad, because just when I started to smile, she caught a second wind, pulling her hands from me and turning her back.

“I don’t know why you’re so adamant about making me feel better. I thought I was just a kid to you.” And then, suddenly, it made sense. Flashes of what had happened not even an hour earlier played in my head, this time her face being the focus of it all. Perhaps it wasn’t perceptible for everyone else that her smile faltered when I shouted that idiotic thing, but to me it was.

To me it was, and still, back then, I didn’t see it. I chose not to see it, because I was so scared to deal with the truth. Instead, I ended up hurting her. And that was literally the last thing that I wanted.

“I-I’m sorry,” I immediately offered, raising a hand to scratch the back of my neck. “I just… I didn’t want them to start creating any narratives about us two together, you know? I mean… You know how they can get. And I can’t be… We can’t be... associated… like that.”

I knew I had screwed up even before it became clear that she wouldn’t answer. Despite how cautiously I’d tried to phrase it, it ended up sounding weird even to my own ears. And when she didn’t turn around to look me in the eye again, I didn’t know what else to do. I felt myself deflating, my heart beating desperately against my chest, terrified of losing her simply for being my stupid self.

“C’mon… You know what I mean,” I breathed out, trying to approach her and resting a hand on one of her shoulders, but she simply shook it off. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t be like that.” I made myself flinch with just how poorly I was handling that situation.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t know what to do or say. Don’t be like what? “Like a child?” I asked, my tone icy enough to layer the tension in the room with one more level of awkwardness, and I didn’t need to see Chris to know that he was a mixture of nervous and confused, at the very least.

I knew it because I was, too. I was completely thrown off by my own behaviour, as weirdly as that sounded. I didn’t know why I was so defensive, except that I did. I did know it, I just didn’t want to admit.

“Well, this child wants to be left alone. I’ll talk to you later, Chris.” And I stormed off into the bathroom, only stopping to take a breath when I was sure the door was locked behind me. I needed to put some distance between myself and him, otherwise I was gonna lose it - even worse than I already did.

But it was too late to keep on ignoring my feelings. I was forced to deal with the reality of them, at least with myself, since I knew - especially after today - that there was no way I would ever get to reveal to Chris that I’d fallen for him.

To him, I was just a kid, and that’s all I would forever be.

Weirdly, I didn’t feel like crying as I took off my clothes and stepped into the shower, decided to wash away all of the bad feelings that this day had brought me. I just felt… disappointed, like a kid who’s been dreaming about a Christmas present only to find out they’ve been given socks. I’d been hopelessly trying to ignore my feelings for Chris, but at least a small part of me still fed into the ridiculous idea that he could possibly reciprocate those sentiments.

Now that it was obvious it would never be the case, it was like a small part of me had died on that stage.

By the time I got out of the shower, some twenty minutes later, I decided to put on a loose shirt I had kept around from some ex and take a nap until it was time to be social again. Certainly my friends would want to hit the bars or at least grab some dinner, and it would provide me with the perfect occasion to apologize to Chris.

Yes, that was perfect. That would get me a few more hours where I could manage to fabricate some resemblance of control before I had to see him. And then it would all go back to the way it was: me, pretending I don’t have a crush, while he kept seeing me as a kid.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t even notice the massive body hidden beneath the covers in my bed until I went to uncover it so I could slide in.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get out of my bed,” I chastised, but Chris only gave me those annoyingly effective puppy eyes that had me groaning. “No. You don’t get to do this. I’m still mad at you, go to your room and we’ll talk about it later, but for now, just let me wallow in peace.”

But still, he didn’t let up. I tried to climb on the bed, but he was now smack down on the middle of it, still pouting with those perfect full lips of his.

“Get. out. of. the. Bed.”

“Not until you tell me what I can do for you to forgive me. C’mon, baby girl, just let me make it up to you.” When I didn’t answer, making sure to avoid his eyes, he simply reached out and grabbed me by my hips, forcing me to sit on his lap. “Please?” He quietly begged, one hand cradling my face while the other maintained its grip on my hip.

The movement had caught me by surprise, and my mouth fell open as I realized that because the shirt had ridden up, I was sat panties glued to Chris’ jeans. And if that wasn’t enough to throw me into a ridiculously horny state, the fact that I could feel just how hard he was certainly did.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t be shy,” he pressed, and my eyes snapped up to meet his, finding a hazy lust that reflected mine and a very, very naugthty smirk that didn’t help my current about-to-get messy situation. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I took a sharp inhale, thinking about what I was about to say. Could I really do this? Should we even do this? I still wasn’t completely sure about what the hell had happened, but one thing I was certain of, and that was that I really wanted him to, “Kiss me.”

For all the reservation I expected Chris to have about this, he didn’t hesitate a single second before pulling me to meet his lips, and it was everything I thought kissing him would be like. His lips were soft and as patient as he seemed to try to be, there was an undeniable edge of neediness in the way his tongue swiped my bottom lip, begging me for entrance.

“You’re not gonna let me in, honey?” He whispered against my lips, warm breath making me shiver in his arms before I was able to gather my thoughts.

“I don’t think you deserve it.” I shrugged, but by Chris’ teasing smile, I knew I had just given him exactly what he wanted. In a quick move, he had me sprawled on the bed underneath him, while he hovered over me with dark eyes that I never thought I’d get to see outside of my dreams.

“Let me show you why you’re wrong.”

Chris’ P.O.V.

I started by rubbing the outside of her thighs until she opened her legs enough for me to settle in the space between them. I paid close attention to the way her breath hitched even with the softest of touches, incapable of stopping the grin that made its way into my face.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sensitive, baby.” She whined as I lowered myself to replace my fingers with my lips, slowly making out with the delicate skin of her inner thighs. “You see? This is why I was scared to reveal my feelings for you. It’d be so easy to ruin you.”

By the way she bit on her lower lip, I knew I had reached my goal of making her even more bothered with what I had said, and slowly, I ran my hands up her legs and grabbed her hips to pull her further down, closer to my mouth. I ran my tongue over her lower lip, just barely gathering the excess moisture, and despite how clearly affected she was, Y/N managed to grab my hair and whisper, “I think you’re full of it, Evans.” It made me smirk, but before I could even offer a comeback, she just continued, “But even if you’re right… I’d like nothing more than to be ruined by you and only you.”

A sharp inhale later and a competition of stares, I pounced on her, devouring her little pussy like I’d wish to do so many fucking times before. She was sweet, but her moans were even sweeter, and the combination of sounds and taste and smell only served to intoxicate me, make me even more thrilled about finally having this gorgeous woman underneath me.

As her juices dripped from my jaw on the bed, she kept caressing my head, keeping me closely connected to her like I would ever dream of stepping away from this moment. I wanted to stay right here forever, away from people’s judgements and the overwhelming fear that she would think this was a mistake after it was over.

And right here, as my nose brushed her clit as I plunged my tongue as far as it could go inside her hole, she came right before my eyes, her honey dripping onto my tongue as I came up to toy with her clit before at last parting with her taste.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” I pointed out, stealing her lips with mine so I could share her taste with her, so she’d know I was right. “You’re sweet all over. Shit, I really want to fuck you.” My voice became nothing but a whisper, and soon her hands were cradling my face, thumb playing with my bottom lip before I sucked it. It was true. I craved to feel her from the inside, know what it was like to possess her in that way, too.

“Then fulfill both of our wishes. I really want to be fucked by you.”

Godfuckingdamn. This girl was just perfect. I knew right then, I’d made the right choice by deciding to stick around. When she appeared wearing nothing but that shirt, I forgot all of the reasons that were holding me back from simply taking her, and even now, they didn’t seem all that important anymore.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Your wish is my command.” I heard the words and braced myself to finally feel his cock inside of me, but still, the second that its head managed to fit, a long, drawn-out moan revealed just how impossible it was for me to restrain myself as Chris stretched me open around his member.

“Fuck!” Chris shouted, and it surprised me so much that it made my eyes widen as I stared up at him, hands still holding tightly on his muscular shoulders. “Sorry! Sorry.” He repeated as he bottomed out, forehead resting against mine as he seemed to catch his breath. “I just… I imagined your moans, but hearing them is a completely different thing altogether.”

The sentence had butterflies flying in my stomach and the reality of the situation suddenly hit me. I was lying in bed completely naked with a still fully clothed Chris Evans on top of me, and his cock was filling me in ways I’d never been filled before while he kept releasing these breathy little moans that had my heart skipping a beat every damn time my mind registered them.

“Good to know I’m not the only one who has been dreaming about this,” I settled for whispering in his ear before sucking on his earlobe, and a shiver passed through his body, making me giggle.

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss me quickly before deciding to do it again. “But I’m even more glad that this is actually happening right now.” What could I add to this? I didn’t think there were any combination of words possible. So I resigned myself to feel it, memorize every single thing about this moment when Chris started to pull out only to push back in again. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, and in that moment, I’d let him do anything to me, just as long as he kept fucking me like this.

His thrusts felt like waves washing over the shore, bringing the tide of desire higher and higher and I could feel it reaching the point where it all changed, the point where my life would turn upside down because I would know what it felt like to cum around Chris’ cock, and the anticipation was enough to have me writhing on the unmade sheets of the hotel bed.

“Shit,” Chris chuckled, and I opened my eyes to find him staring at me with a soft look on his. “You’re unbelievable, sweetheart.” I could see the desire in his darkened pupils. I was sure it mirrored my own. “So beautiful, and you take my cock so well.”

Hearing him talk dirty was everything I’d always wished for, and I could feel myself getting even wetter around him, whines and whimpers escaping my chest as I held him closer to me.

“Fuck, I really wanna buy you a collar with my name on it. Make sure everyone knows I own you now.” The words, paired with the warmth of his breath had me clenching around him, and I fucking melted when I heard him meanly chuckle at my state - the state that he had caused me. “You want it too, huh?”

I really, really did. I’d never been one for external marks of possession, but something about this, about Chris and I, really had me going crazy for his proposal. Maybe because a part of me thought he would never want to admit this had ever happened. I thought he would try to deny it, and so to hear him wishing to boast about it… It really had me going crazy under him.

“Say it.” His voice cut through the haze, making me realize I was actually about to cum again. It took me a while to understand what it wanted, just enough to have him ordering again, in a tone of voice that made every single part of me tingle, “Say you want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“I do. I want everyone to know I’m yours and only yours, Christopher.” I don’t know if it was the desperation in my tone, my use of his full name or the fact that I came again, but that finally had him losing the control of his movements, quickly pulling out of me and jerking himself off until his cum was painted all over my stomach.

For a second, it was only our labored breaths in the bedroom, staring at each other like we couldn’t believe this had really happened. “Still think I’m a kid?” I had to laugh, biting my lower lip while trying not to show that I actually was really nervous about his reaction now that we were done. But his eyes softened, a quick kiss deposited on my lips before he cradled me in his arms, cum and all, and answered, “You’ll always be my little girl. I just want to do some very adult stuff to you.”

#chris evans smut #smut #chris evans #chris evans reader insert #chris evans reader smut #chris evans reader inserts #chris evans x reader #chris evans reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans ff #chris evans oneshot

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jadoue1999 · 3 years

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Peter Maximoff’s complicated relationship with Star Wars

Summary: Peter didn't like Star Wars. But not because they were bad movies, no. It's because they somehow were very similar to his own life, and they also showed him what might have been, had his twin lived long enough. This is the story of Peter Maximoff, told through the many similarities between the original trilogy and his own life.

*All Star Wars quotes are in italics*

Peter doesn’t like Star Wars

Don’t get him wrong, the movies are great. The first movie had come out when he was 22 years old, and he had found it amazing. He had never seen anything like it before and had sneaked into the movie theater to rewatch it with his twin several times.

‘I need your help, Luke.’

It was almost ironic how his life resembled some parts of the movie. Both he and Wendy had some characteristics of Luke and Leia. He was the goofball, the one who had been recruited to break someone out of an impenetrable prison. Hell, Charles could be Obi-Wan, the old wizard with strange mind control powers (though he didn’t have them at the time), Hank was Chewbacca, the fierce beast who was loyal to his family, and then the claw guy, Logan, was Han Solo. The dark-haired man with a don’t-mess-with-me attitude that would shoot you down without hesitation. That made him Luke, the farm boy that was raised isolated, unaware of the true danger. Only difference was that Erik wasn’t Leia, no he was Vader. Wendy was Leia, the fierce, loud mouthed, badass princess that didn’t let anyone boss her around.

They had loved the first movie, but then tragedy struck. His twin’s powers were always unpredictable, always on the verge of lashing out. He had tried to help as much as he could, but just a few months after their 23rd birthday, it was too much for Wendy to bear. She lost control and died, taking half a block with her. Peter did his best to carry on, but their lost connection was all he could feel. The aching emptiness that had always been occupied by his twin sister. It took awhile, but he did eventually go see the second Star Wars. It was... a bittersweet experience to say the least.

Seeing the big bad Vader being related to Luke really did a number on him. All he could think about was the fact that he too was related to a literal terrorist. Someone who had hurt hundred of people and would probably not hesitate to hurt him as well. And then it was revealed that Luke and Leia shared a connection, where they could hear each other and feel each other, and it just overwhelmed him. Minus the kissing (ew, that was gross, why did they even include that?!) Luke and Leia’s relationship reminded him of his and Wendy’s.

That’s why he wasn’t surprised when they were revealed to be twins in the next movie.

Actually, he had been surprised, but more about the fact that his grief took over for a moment. Seeing Leia try to reason with Luke, telling him that nothing good would come out of chasing Vader, their father... that was a conversation that had really happened after their mom told them who exactly was Magneto. Peter had decided to chase Erik down the moment he had resurfaced.

‘I won't fail - I'm not afraid.’

‘Oh, you will be. You will be.’

His mom had warned him about Magneto, how nothing good came out of chasing ghosts, but he had to try. A confrontation with the Dark Lord of the Sith.

Cloud city The mansion was full of people, and the place was exploding. He saved them all (minus one), of course, because that’s what he did. Why be a speedster if you can’t save people from catastrophe?

‘Luke, don't - it's a trap!’

Yeah, it had been a trap, alright. But unlike Luke, he hadn’t had Leia to warn him. So, the carbon freezing chamber knock out gun had worked. That’s how he ended up captured by the government and woke up in a weird green room. The others, he could understand why they were taken, they seemed to know the man holding them, but why him? Peter was of no interest to them. Unless they knew he was related to Magneto and planned to use him as a bargaining chip, but it seemed unlikely.

Then, they were freed and, on their way to confront En Sabah Nur, or as Hank had described him, the blue god. He had told Raven about his relationship with Erik, and she promised him that she would make sure she would tell him.

‘There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you.’

The cold, cold eyes of Magneto were staring at him with something that seemed almost like interest. “And you?”

‘I am your father.’

It was right there, a perfect opportunity served on a silver platter. An opportunity to make Erik realize he wasn’t alone, that he had more family. Perhaps he’d turn back to the light side if he knew. “I’m your-“

But it was Wendy who was the brave one, she was the chosen one. She never would have hesitated. And he wasn’t his sister. “I’m here for my family too.”

It was all sad and tragic because his life was just like that. He could feel Raven’s eyes on him, she couldn’t understand why he hadn’t told him, but she couldn’t know about Wendy. It was his own painful secret.

With how similar his life was to Luke’s he wasn’t sure why he was even surprised when he got his hand cut off leg broken. Then, there he was, trying to hold on to consciousness as shock settled into his body.

‘Hear me! Leia!’

Oh, how he wished Wendy were here. She would have destroyed them. Peter would have done anything for his twin to answer, like Leia did with Luke. But she was dead, there was no one to answer him. Just the cobwebs of their broken connection and the burning pain of his leg. He didn’t really care what happened next, he was all too focused on getting his message to his long-lost sister. He didn’t really believe in a higher power, of some all-powerful entity that somehow watched over everyone. He did, however, believe in Wendy, his strong, beautiful, powerful sister.

‘I would have preferred her too’

The blue God’s voice resonated in his head, catching him off guard. No one had ever reached in his mind like that, Wendy only could because of their connection.

‘If you will not turn to the dark side, then perhaps she will.’

Would his father have tried recruiting Wendy for his brotherhood? Yeah, definitely. She would have been the true last hope. A daughter to be proud about. One with abilities beyond anything anyone had ever seen. One that truly would have saved everyone, hell, she would have prevented the mansion from exploding and never would have been captured in the first place. The blue god looked at him with disdain in his eyes and Peter knew it didn’t mean anything good. He tried to crawl away, but in his current position, that did absolutely nothing.

‘It is pointless to resist, my son.’

En Sabah Nur grabbed him by the hair and tugged, holding him painfully upright and vulnerable. He’d always hated staying still, he was always too full of energy, always eager to chase after the next distraction.

Peter looked up at his father, trying to see if he would do anything, but he saw nothing but indifference. Magneto didn’t care about him. He was an insignificant mutant, a face amongst a thousand others. Soon to be counted amongst the hundred of corpses that Erik had seen in his life.

‘Now, young Skywalker...you will die.’

The god pulled his head back sharply, exposing his throat. “End him.”

One of his horsemen was approaching him with a sharp sword. Peter was slightly thankful that it wasn’t his dad that was chosen to be his executioner. His powers had kicked in, trying to give him an opportunity to escape. But it only made his imminent doom even worse.

Then, he didn’t die, and the hope of seeing his twin again was brushed aside for another near-death situation. As it turned out, Raven was a great person when the son of her friend was in danger.

En Sabah Nur let him go too quickly to focus on the blue mutant. He gasped and writhed as he fell to the ground as electricity pain coursed through his body. The blue god didn’t care about him, he continued calling for Charles, calling for his true target.

‘Father! Help me!’

He should cry out like Luke did, there was no way Magneto would act if he didn’t. Then again, he didn’t have a clue who he was. It was doubtful he remembered him from the Pentagon, it had been nearly 10 years and Erik had had a whole other family since. He was just the nameless idiot that got a big head and tried to take on a god and got defeated like a loser.

In the end, they were all fine, just a little shaken. Erik gave him a weird look, either he pitied him, or he was wondering what he had wanted to tell him. But Peter was on the verge of passing out, there was no way he could hold a conversation at the moment. They came back to the mansion and Peter decided to stay, maybe getting out of his isolation wouldn’t be so bad.

So, even if his life was similar to Star Wars, in its turns and tragedy, it wasn’t even close to how the trilogy ended. The scruffy Han never came back, Obi-wan wasn’t next to a redeemed Anakin (he just left all together) and Leia wasn’t at his side anymore. A happy ending wasn’t something that happened in real life. Everything he wanted resolved wasn’t wrapped neatly into a bow. He still had his loads of daddy issues caused by a father who didn’t know was a father and Wendy, his amazing long gone twin still wasn’t at his side. Peter figured that some good would eventually come to him, it couldn’t be all bad, right?

‘This is our most desperate hour.’

He had faith in that, so, when he was woken up by a burning sensation in his chest, he did his best to understand. The pain was so familiar, it was grief. But not his grief, no, this came from the connection he shared with his twin.

“Wanda?” he called out. Using her real name because she was calling to him. Because she needed him. Because she was somewhere all alone.

“I had a brother, his name was… Pietro.”

It was painful for her to talk about him, so he made sure to let her know through their bond that he was there for her, she just had to reach out. Wanda was confused to feel him, but her scarlet magic soon opened a portal. It might be a trap, there was no way to be certain, but Peter trusted his sister. He took and deep breath and ran into the portal without hesitation. She was alone and she was suffering, it was his job as her twin to help her.

‘Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.’

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