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imastrangeone98 · 9 months

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Enough

(A/N: yes to blade, yes to everything about him 🩵)

WARNING: extremely ooc!blade cuz stoic men are hard to write, fem!reader, smut smut, minors get the hell out of here or I'll smack u to Heaven and back; more plot than there should be tbh; also y/n lowkey being the stellaron hunters' favorite member XD

Being alone with Blade in the hideout is not how you wanted to spend your day, yet here you are.

Agonizing over the lack of Kafka and Silver Wolf (your two greatest- and only- friends in the Stellaron Hunters) helps distract you as you sweep the floor of the Hunters' newly occupied hideout.

It also helps keep your mind off your unexpected companion... the man you've been trying to avoid for the past few weeks.

It's not that you didn't like him- quite the opposite, in fact. Your feelings for the broody swordsman were... complicated. Of course he was visibly attractive, as well as emotionally volatile; you'd be blind to not notice it.

But you grew to enjoy seeing his reactions to the smallest of things- from his disgust at the tomatoes in his sandwich, to the smallest curl of his lip at the sight of a whetstone for his sword, to the faintest glimpse of peace in his eyes when he watches the sunset.

You grew to love him. How could you not fall for the sensitive soul who secretly fed the stray kittens near the base, who joined Silver Wolf on the couch to watch her play games, who quietly thanked you every time you patched up the wounds his healing factor could not, even though it was your job?

Your heart blooms when you're near him. But you know better than to think he feels the same way.

Kafka had told you of his reasons for joining the Hunters: a thirst for revenge against all who wronged him, and the undying desire for eternal sleep. His path of vengeance meant no room for any unnecessary things, you included.

You will never be a part of Blade's world.

So you keep your feelings under lock and key, choosing to ignore the fluttering of your heart whenever he helps you with the dishes, when he silently joins you on your trips to the market for groceries, even when he hands you a small souvenir from whatever planet his mission was in.

"Bladie certainly likes to give you special treatment," Kafka had teased you once as she helped blow dry your hair. "Any more of his flirting, and I might just have to fight him for attention~"

"Oh please, be serious, Kaf." You rolled your eyes at the thought. "Blade would never be interested in romance, especially with a dime-a-dozen medic like me. Besides, have you seen the way he looks at that bracer?"

"Well, if he doesn't want you, I don't mind picking up the slack~"

You smacked her for that. But even though she hadn't used her Spirit Whisper on you that day, her words stayed in your mind long after the conversation was over.

Her voice echoed in the back of your mind after that night, when you had encountered him broken and lost in the middle of the night, aching from pains you could not understand. You had taken him in your arms, unable to watch him suffer, and sung him to slumber, watching as his eyes slowly drifted closed as he relaxed in your hold.

Putting him to bed was no easy task, but it was when you were about to pull away that your problem truly began.

"Stay," Blade whispered, soft and drowsy- a sound you didn't think him capable of. It left you speechless, even as he pawed at you to pull you closer to him. "Stay here tonight."

The warning to stay away should have rung in your mind. But when he gazed at you with wide, almost desperate eyes, you could not say no. And so you stayed that night, his head resting on your chest, falling asleep to the sound of your racing heartbeat.

You shouldn't have. Because now you're stuck in this situation, trapped in a corner, with the man haunting your thoughts hovering above you, a dangerous gleam in his eye that sends a shiver down your spine.

"C- can I help you?" you squeak out, a bead of sweat on your forehead. "I'll get started on dinner pretty soon-"

"You are very difficult to get a hold of." Blade cuts you off, leaning closer to you, nose brushing against yours. "Now you have nowhere to go... and no one to hide you."

You gulp. Aeons, you wish Kafka and Silver Wolf were here right now.

"You've been avoiding me. Why?"

Your cheeks feel hot at his question. Is he really that daft? (No, he isn't. He just likes seeing you flustered; but you don't have to know that just yet.)

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you splutter. He stares at you, exasperated. "I'm treating you just as I always do!"

"...You're terrible at lying." He sighs and finally leans away from you; you hadn't realized you were holding your breath. But you're still not off the hook, because he slides a finger under your chin and tilts your head to maintain your gaze on him. "Since you're not willing to be honest, I will. You disappearing in the morning wasn't particularly... enjoyable for me. And here I thought we were getting close."

Blade lightly scratches your chin, and aeons, if your face wasn't hot before, it's burning now.

"If you didn't like me, you could have just said so. I thought-" He stops himself, but his wide eyes speak the words he cannot vocalize.

Your heart threatens to burst. You have tell yourself it's not real. There's no way this is real. Blade does not like you. Blade is not capable of love. He desires only revenge against the many who wronged him, against the one who holds the other half of his bracer, the key to his heart.

Blade does not love you. He loves only what you briefly gave him because he lacked so much of it in his mysterious past that he instinctively reached out to the first person who gave him scraps of what he deserved.

And that knowledge breaks your heart.

"...You don't know what you're saying," you say stiffly, your grip on the broom tightening. "You must be confused. When Kafka returns, I'll ask her to use her Spirit-"

"Stop," he growls, pressing against you once more. He's so heavy he nearly squeezes the air from your lungs. "I don't know what you're thinking, but that's enough."

Aeons, you're insufferable. Yet he can't stay mad at you, not when your expressions are so cute. He gently cradles your face, fingers lightly tracing your cheeks, the corners of your eyes, your soft lips.

He wants to kiss you. He wants to know if you taste as sweet as you look. If your voice is just as sweet singing his name as you sing your songs that soothe his soul, his mara, better than any of your healing balms or even Kafka's Spirit Whisper.

"Why won't you let me in, you stubborn woman?" Blade whispers, eyeing your confusion, your hurt that he doesn't understand. "What pains you so, that you won't even look at me?"

You grit your teeth. How can you tell him that what pains you is the very thing that brings his immortal life meaning? That you're just trying to make his life easier by not interfering with his plans with your own, temporary issues?

But nothing comes out except a half-hearted, "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Bullshit," he hisses. "Everything you do concerns me. Your existence concerns me."

Your hands squeeze into fists. "And why's that? Am I that much of an inconvenience to you?!"

His lips curl into a pained smile. "Like you wouldn't imagine. You make me think of things that I don't need..." He glances down at his feet for a brief, long second, then looks back at you. His eyes are aglow with something you can't describe. "That I don't deserve to think of."

For as much as you want to harden your heart, Blade's words make your attempts meaningless. It's so full of fear and longing that you want to reach out and touch him, hold him close to your heart and never let him go.

You swallow, somehow feeling more nervous than before at what you're about to ask. But you want to know. You need to know, for your poor heart. "...And what is it that you think you don't deserve?"

His gaze softens. Blade leans down once more, and you feel his breath on your lips. He smells nice, you think hazily. Suddenly, you feel overwhelmed, too hyper aware of everything- his scent, the gentle brush of his fingers on your chin, the flecks of gold in his eyes.

"You," he whispers, and softly presses his lips to yours.

He's warm against you. His arms are strong as they wrap around you, pulling you into his firm chest. Before you're fully swept into the storm that is Blade, a funny thought flits through your mind: for a man with such a sharp name, he feels so warm in your arms.

He groans against your mouth, hands moving to your cheeks, coaxing your lips open to slide his tongue inside, feeling every part of you. You're so soft, so sweet, so perfect- he swears that you must have been crafted by the aeons themselves to fit his taste, to his hold. He has to fight against every cell in his body to not rip your clothes off and take you against the filthy walls. As badly as he wants to taste you properly, he needs to move this elsewhere. You deserve better than the cold corner he trapped you in. (And if Kafka shows up early, he doesn't want her to witness the filthy things he wants to do to you. But the marks he'll leave... That's fair game.)

When he finally pulls away, you're left breathless, chest heaving, and your lips tingle with the heat of his own. Blade nuzzles against your neck, and leaves kisses down your throat.

"Come on," he whispers against your skin, and tugs at your sleeve. "Stay with me tonight."

It feels too good to be true. You should be more suspicious. Blade does not love. Blade does not care for love. He does not love you.

He doesn't...

But he smiles at you- a soft, innocent smile that tugs at the corners of his eyes- and you fall into him, helpless.

When he offers you his hand, you don't hesitate to take it.

Maybe you're too hypnotized by him, but time melts into one hazy fog of memories. He's gentle- leading you to his room, lying you down on his bed, peeling off your clothes, piece by piece, until you're left bare and wanting. He stares at you hungrily, but he makes no move to devour you just yet.

He's slow, too. Watching him remove his garments- untying his belts and vest, sliding off his glove, unwrapping his bandages- it was torture. You huff, displeased, and reach out to him to lend a hand, but he lightly smacks it away, a playful smirk on his face.

"Patience," he teases, "and I'll give you what you want... and more."

To drive his words home, he moves even slower. By the time he's kicked off his shoes and pants, you've given up on being patient and paw at his boxers, much to his amusement. His cock finally springs free, and you gulp- it's big. Thick at the base, you wonder how it'll fit you. But you can't resist the temptation to lean forward and lick the tip. He groans above you, hands resting on the back of your head to push you further against his groin.

You're so cute. He watches you, hearts in his eyes, slurping away at his cock, clumsy hands rubbing at the parts you can't fit. You reek of inexperience, but it's okay. He has more than enough time to teach you, and he'll enjoy every second of it.

But for now, he lets himself relax and enjoy the warmth of your throat. The urge to cum rises its head, but he pushes it back. Not yet. Not until he feels you properly. (But he can't deny the mental image of his seed dripping from your mouth is incredibly arousing.)

It's when you begin to choke on his length that Blade pulls himself out of his pleasure-induced stupor, and he pulls you off of him to lay down on his bed. He follows you, resting on one arm above your head while his other hand trails down your neck, to your breasts (sparing a few seconds to fondle and squeeze each one), down your belly to your thighs, lightly tapping your wet mound.

"I'm gonna stretch you out now," he says, making sure you're paying attention to him. "Or it'll hurt when I go in."

It hits you: he's done this before. The bracer flashes in your mind. For a brief moment, you think to pull away and return to your room alone, to lick at the wounds to your sensitive pride.

But you hear him call to you, soft kisses being pressed onto your cheeks, and you are pulled away from the storm into his solid embrace.

"You're thinking again," he sighs, and he moves to kiss the corner of your mouth. "Whatever it is, think of it tomorrow. Just let me in; look at me."

Blade rubs his cheek against yours, giving you a reassuring look, then you feel his fingers, long and calloused, brush against your sensitive hole. You gasp at the unfamiliar feeling and squirm, but he keeps you firm, kissing you deeply to distract you from the way they slowly press inside you.

Your walls are tight. Blade wants so badly to pull his fingers out and devour you from the source, slurp up every last drop of your essence. But he grasps hold on the last few strings of his unraveling patience, not giving in to his desires just yet. He needs to do this, lest you cry in pain when he finally pushes inside you. So he finds solace in your softness, in the rhythmic squeezing of your silky cunt, carefully stretching you out.

A tear slips out of your eyes at the painful pleasure, and he kisses it away. "There we go. You're ready," he murmurs, pulling his fingers out, your whines at the emptiness music to his ears. He brings them to his mouth, sucking off your juices and moaning at the taste.

"Don't... don't do that," you whimper beneath him. You stare at him so innocently, he wants to ruin you. "It's yucky..."

"It's you," he corrects you, and he adjusts himself so he's between your legs. He smooths his hands down your thighs and positions his cock right at your entrance. When the tip catches onto your hole, you both sigh in pleasure. "Nothing about you is 'yucky.'"

With that, he finally- finally thrusts inside you. You yelp at the intrusion- he stretched you out, but aeons, it's still painful... and he's still not fully inside you. Whimpering, you claw at his scarred shoulders, nails raking down his back. He groans at the sting, leaning down to kiss you, unable to escape your addicting lips.

He can't move. He's trapped by the tightness of your pussy, your wet warmth distracting him from the main course. But your cries of his name pull him out of that haze, reminding him of what he needs to do.

"You're okay," he manages to heave out, cupping your cheek before pressing his chest to yours, mouth smushed against your ear. "I'm here. I'm gonna move."

You whine a weak "Blade..." but he shushes you.

"Ren."

"...What?" you ask hesitantly.

"My name. My real name. Ren."

"...Ren."

Oh, aeons. Your voice is so beautiful saying his long-forgotten name, he nearly came inside you. But he works up the strength to push his cock deeper, until his hips meet yours with a wet slap.

You wail, chanting his name- his true name- as he builds up a semi-steady rhythm. And he makes love to you, for aeons knows how long, hypnotized by your sounds, your smell, your touches on his body as you scratch at him and bite his neck, as if leaving your mark on him. (He wishes he didn't have his healing factor. He wants your scratches to last. He wants to look at them in the morning.)

You manage to cradle his face in your palm and turn him towards you. You take the time to admire him- his gorgeous red eyes, his bare chest gleaming with sweat, his long hair forming a curtain around you, narrowing your sight to him, and only him. So it's just Blade.

No... Ren.

Your heart clenches at his amorous gaze, as if showing his devotion to you, and only you. You do not know if he loves you... if he is capable of loving you. You do not know if he will come to regret this come morning. But you will embrace him, and smile at him, like you do now.

Because you love him. You cannot deny it anymore. You love Ren.

"Ren..." you call out once more.

And he answers you. "Yes." His voice is breathy, and his touch gentle, for he cups your cheek in his hand and rubs soft circles into your sensitive skin.

He may not love you, but you love him. And that is all you need. And you let your love consume you.

"Ren."

"Yes."

You say his name so much you lose count. And he responds every time, sometimes with words, sometimes with his lips. Until he grabs your thighs and folds you nearly in half, hips now slamming into yours as he buries his length inside you even deeper than you thought possible. Your eyes cross and you howl at how impossibly deep he feels, pressing buttons you never knew existed.

Blade moans, drunk on his pleasure, on your sweet, sweet pussy. He feels that unfamiliar tightness in his loins, his balls aching for release. But he needs you there with him, standing at the edge of that cliff right by his side.

"'M close," he whispers hoarsely. His hand flies to your hidden pearl, rubbing at your clit through your folds. You whine pitifully, but this time, he pays no heed. "I need you, come on, I need you-!"

The burning warmth in your gut spreads faster at his rough administrations. You squeal at how sensitive you feel, but you can't outrun it. The heat reaches to your limbs, your eyesight is hazy, and all you see, feel, smell, know is Ren.

Ren, who grasps hold of your hand, urging you to jump off with him. And aeons, he looks so beautiful doing it.

You can't help the words that slip past your mouth: "I love you."

And you jump. You plummet into the canyon, hands intertwined, and you're swept under the waves of indescribable ecstasy that makes you see galaxies. You feel warm, much like the ropes of warm seed that fill you.

Your mind is foggy, but Blade's sighs of pleasure are clear and bright. You feel him thrust inside you, once, twice, four times, before collapsing on top of you. He nuzzles into your neck, taking in lungfuls of your scent, committing it to his memory so he can never part from it.

With shaking arms, you manage to run your hands through his hair, massaging his scalp and untangling the soft strands, trying to shake your sudden nerves as you realize what you just said in the throes of your first orgasm.

I love you.

But if he noticed, then he hasn't spoken up about it. Instead, he shudders at your touch, pushing his head further into your hands, a silent urge to continue. So you do, until your eyes can no longer stay open, and your hands fall limp in his hair.

He pushes himself up and gathers you in his arms, pressing you to his chest, close to his pounding heart. And he takes the time to admire your drowsy form, so vulnerable and soft, so trusting.

"You terrify me," is all he can whisper before he joins you into slumber.

Because you make him not want to seek death. But he knows he must search for it, now more fervently than before. So that when your time inevitably comes...

...He will be able to follow you.

[...]

"It seems like you and Bladie have been rather close these days~ Have you two finally fucked and made up?"

You blush at Kafka's stupidly accurate teasing. "Don't say it like that! We just... had a talk, that's all."

Your friend eyes the hickies on your neck with amusement. "Sure... a talk with teeth~"

"Kafka-"

"When's dinner? Are you gonna make pasta?" Silver Wolf pops up out of nowhere, eyes fixed on her game.

"Do you want pasta?" you ask her with a laugh. She can be so childish sometimes, but you love her nonetheless.

"Yeah. I like your pasta." The gamer moves to sit next to you, but her chosen spot is suddenly occupied as Blade slides in beside you. He gives you a knowing look, before sending a cocky smirk at Silver Wolf, who pouts and complains to Kafka.

You cackle at the sight before you, and slowly rest your head on his shoulder. Blade says nothing, but the way he shifts his body for your comfort and wraps an arm around you tells you everything. You close your eyes in bliss, ignoring the chatter between your two friends as Silver Wolf decides to make a spot on your lap.

Blade is warm beside you. That is enough.

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A/N: this b*tch took all my wishes but it's ok I love him. I'll hopefully be able to save enough for Dan heng's dragon form *wink wonk* also I'm reassuring myself that no matter how bad this is, hbo's the idol is far far worse 😃

#honkai star rail #hsr blade #blade x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader

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appleblueberry-pie · 14 days

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Yandere GF Yuki +Yandere JJK Harem

A/N: Please just read these first few sentences if this is too long for you. I intended for Yuki and reader to have some sort of dom x sub relationship. Like it runs in her blood to be at least slightly masc. I've been fantasizing about this idea for much longer than I realize. But being able to do this with a literal bad bitch at the top of the OP podium is a dream come true and a treasure. Like I don't think you guys understand, I seriously think Yuki is for the girlies. I see so much queer potential in her, it's not even a joke(hence, the photo). The Yandere Harem includes briefly mentioned Platonic Yanderes(Yuji and Nobara) and more in depth juggling of the mentions of the Romantic Yanderes(Yuki being the main, and the rest taking whatever crumbs they can take. So, Shoko, Gojo, and Nanami). I feel like this isn't going to be organized whatsoever because I usually just write whatever with no kind of order, soooo......idk.

Yuki was all you needed in a person, in your opinion. No one knew you better besides her. You knew her and she knew you. If you could, you'd stay in her arms until your muscles hurt from staying in the same position for so long, and maybe then, you'll be molded together for eternity. That's how much you love her. But of course, her infatuation with you is so much more than a slight obsession for the one you are closely connected to. Everyday when she sees you, she feels both of your spirits connecting. When you two approach each other from different sides of a room, both of your cursed energy seem to blend together like food scents combining to make one sweet aroma. Two separate things colliding so well together.

She can't even fathom the idea of you not being hers. She can't think of a moment where you'd ever leave her either. Her confidence in your devotion and love towards her continues to sooth her mind and body. And she wishes it was just the two of you on this planet, but of course, people try to break you two apart every day. She tries not to mind it, knowing how to handle these types of situations and knowing you know how to hold your own as well. But it seems like everyone loves to test her patience.

Speaking of patience, everyone can tell Gojo was quickly running out of patience that somehow still remained in his body. You two have been together for four years, why haven't you broken up yet?! Not a single one of his relationships lasted this long. Ever. But you two continue to stare at each other as if the other created the sky and water. It's supposed to be you and him doing that. Not you and her. It's not fair and he was getting mad again just staring at the two of you. He tried everything. He tried to give his best flirts with you, tried to get you alone, which worked a few times, but you stayed strong and continually told him no. Fuck, he even fought Yuki. But you found the two of them battling to the death and he'd seen you so angry, he had to step back. The way you stared at him is a face he never wanted directed at him ever again, so he stopped trying to intervene. Only sticking to the waiting game, and it was taking too long.

Nanami was better at waiting. He was better at staying in his place, staying quiet, acting innocent and holding up face. But even he wanted to step out of line to see what it takes to get you to pay attention to him. To get you into his arms. He used to bring the two of you coffee every morning when you showed up at work together, struck conversation with the both of you, spoke with Yuki more than he did with you to try and steer away possibilities that he was trying to get at you. He thought he was good at what he did. It shook him to his core, disturbed him, when he was pulled into a dark room by you-know-who and was asked of his real intentions. "What? Did you want a threesome? Trying to break us up?" She taunted him, telling him he was just like Gojo, trying everything in his power just to get at her girlfriend. Told him it was obvious when he stared from across the room, crossing his legs to hide his boner like a teenage boy. She laughed in his face and cornered him into a wall, threatening to tear out his jugular. "She likes you more than the other rats scattering around us." But he knew better than to assume that would ever be a green light to continue with his tricks. She told him to keep silent like he usually is, and he won't lose the only life he has. He gave up.

Yuki and Ieri formed an alliance. If she keeps an eye out to protect you from the horndogs that constantly surround you, she can talk with you as much as she desires(as much as Yuki allows her to). But in your eyes, Shoko is a weird case. Because you see her more than you do the rest of the men at Jujutsu Tech. And even though Yuki always tells you to watch out for Shoko, she only lets you freely hang around her more than everyone else. You assumed they spoke of something alone because Yuki almost always pulls her away to have a secret conversation about something you can't ever think up an answer for. Shoko was great to you though. Always gave you snacks, was hilarious and knew how to make you laugh. She never smoked around you, saying she doesn't want you to breathe in the flames. And not only that, she flirts with you constantly. But Yuki never seems to care much when it happens. Maybe they became friends not too long ago...? You can't put your finger on it.

It doesn't help that she likes to show you off. It really doesn't help. Often, everyone follows the both of you to get a chance to talk to you. But when she's right there as your guard dog, it brings their chances back down to a zero. And they would just push her away and bribe someone to just throw her in the ditch, but Yuki isn't just a regular shmegular person to fuck around with. She is, in fact, a special grade sorcerer who would fold a good 85% of the sorcerers in her area if she were pushed to do so. So, you are just a beauty to see from afar.

Complimenting your cute outfit before the two of you go somewhere in town, making you spin, squeezing your ass and making you laugh. Kissing your sweet lips and being able to breathe in your scent. They see it all and can't help but fucking fume at not being able to have you. They probably won't ever have you.

Yuki also wishes you'd stop talking to the brats that constantly berate you. Nobara and Yuji are constantly in your space like little puppies excited to see their owner after a long day. Nobara will whine excessively if you are about to be pulled away, or is pulled away. You love to give her hugs and even little gifts that you know she's wanted for a long time. Yuuji consumes every snack you give him in exactly one second, and you tell him every time to please chew it slowly(he never does). He has such convincing puppy eyes and requires you to stay with him for an extra three minutes, which for each minute, Yuki plans to threaten him to leave you alone(they almost fight every time). You treat those two as if they were your children and people can't help but feel extremely jealous every time. Of course you give the younger ones affection, of course they get your snacks, attention and loving. And of course they get the OK to do it because they're young. It makes everyone else sick to their stomach with anger.

Her biggest concern right now is you're telling her about your new friend you've made(that she can't find and stalk for some reason). You say he has long and healthy hair, is very sweet to you and you two talk about religion all of the time and that he has very interesting "political" views. She knows he's a sorcerer because she can smell it on you every time you come back from an outing alone. She knows that this asshole wants you and makes it known by bringing you back to her smelling completely different and she can see his lingering energy surrounding you. It pisses her off. She's definitely gonna have to do something about it.

Anyways. Yuki has it best, obviously. Her only goal is to get you out of sorcery and to just become hers full-time. Not like you need anything else to worry about besides her. I mean, she could just provide for you entirely. She tells you every day that you're lucky that she doesn't have a real dick, because things would definitely be different if so. It makes you squirm happily and she loves teasing you about it every time with her wolfish grin. She knows she'd get some soon if she says it with that playful and hungry tone you love.

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arcielee · 1 year

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Ask Me Anything

Summary: Aemond asks his professor some questions. Paring: Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 3162 Warnings: The smutty smut you all wanted, fingering, p in v. Author’s Note: Here is part 2, you can read part 1 Hazy Shades of Spring ♥ This was the poll winner and I had to make it into 2 parts. Also, I am also celebrating that I have over 400 followers now! Thank you all so much for reading, it fills me with joy. A shoutout to my muse and editor @f4ll-for-you thank you for your unique perspective and helping me become a better writer! ♥ Also, I got this finished on Ewan’s birthday? Coincidence? Yes, absolutely. My planning and scheduling is terrible. Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @nina2697 @skikikikiikhhjuuh @itsabby15 @greenowlfactif @padfooteyes @danika1994 (If there is a strikethrough, it would not allow me to tag you.)

Mrs. Lannister had been kind enough to share that even though you ended your office hours early on Fridays, you would often remain to finish the lesson plan for the next week. “She’s the only one who does this,” she continued her overshare, batting her lashes. “The rest of the faculty is already gone for the day…even I’m about to leave!”

Aemond returned a warm smile that was close lipped and allowed his cheeks to dimple, noting the faintest hint of rose to her complexion when he thanked her. His gait was languid with his fluid stride to follow the hallway that snaked through the building and back to where he already knew your office would be.

He saw the glint of your name on the door plaque and it seemed closed; he stopped and rapped his knuckles on the wood, the action pushing it slightly ajar and allowing him to step in.

“How may I help you?” You had asked without bothering to look up. Your laptop was open and a stack of papers were tidy on the side, but your focus remained on the one in front of you.

Aemond thought to when his brother first enrolled in your business law course, his arrogance more obnoxious than usual when he came home to say, “My professor is hot and I am definitely fucking my way to an A.”

Aemond did not even acknowledge the cocksure idiocracy he spewed and remained silent when Aegon would return with weekly updates before he inevitably begged their grandfather for a suitable donation to help him pass your class. He remembered being intrigued by the professor who, despite the board’s pressure, then only gave Aegon a barely passing grade.

Aegon was furious and Aemond only said: “You could always attempt studying,” with his eyebrow cocked.

His brother moaned. “Wait until you have to deal with her.”

When Aemond entered the classroom, he remembered you were bold with your gaze and without the hint of fear he often met with other professors. Aegon had once described you as a librarian in need of a good railing, but Aemond liked your tasteful, almost bookworm look, how your hair would be twisted back and the glasses you wore during lectures.

He was dutiful with his classes, but with yours he found himself pressing for more; he would push for answers, often getting a rise from his classmates with his constant disputation, but you were unfazed by it, taking the time to pick apart any argument in your eloquent way and even admitting when he was correct with his verdict. Aemond would wait after the room emptied to approach your desk, pleasantries always exchanged and he liked your smile when you once said, “Are you sure you’re only twenty-two?”

“Age is only a number,” he replied and relished in the blush that dusted your cheeks.

Aemond could admit to himself he had a slight crush, but he did not understand the extent of it until the semester ended, until that Friday night.

With Aegon doing a “study-abroad” in Essos, it was put on Aemond to help with the new restaurant. His uncle had been annoying throughout the set-up, using Aemond for menial micromanaging, and he was relieved with the grand opening, just to be rid of the role of Daemon’s tedious shadow.

Everything is perfect, though, he thought during his rounds, walking the grand staircase towards the bar when he noticed your backside.

Aemond did not immediately recognize you. For one, your hair was down, your thick main smoothed into a cascade of curls instead of the usual bun or braid your locks would be in. Also, the dress you wore fit to your curves in a way that looked like you had been poured into the garment, not your usual comfort uniform of a top, cardigan, and jeans.

He was enamored by the curve of your back, how you were curled over the bartop and your attention focused on something, unaware of the few patrons that lingered with the hopes to draw your attention, before grabbing their drinks and moving on. It was the moment you paused to grab your glass of wine that he recognized your profile.

He had to talk to you.

“Professor?”

Your hesitation was understandable, but eventually you fell into the ebb and flow of the comfortable conversations he would get moments of during your office hours. His heart jumped when you offered the excuse to take you out on the balcony. He was enamored with the way you held yourself, the smile on your lips and how he never truly noticed the beauty of your eyes or how your lashes framed them.

Aemond noted the moments you would hem for words, as if it was an internal debate to say one thing before you would give your genuine thoughts and your upfront honesty was something he welcomed. He noticed the flush to your cheeks and nose, perhaps from the bit of cold in the night air mixed with your passion for science fiction, which he had not expected, and that was the moment he stepped in to kiss you.

You seemed to meld against him with a soft familiarity to his touch. He loved how your expression brightened when he took your hand and how you moved to keep with his strides towards the car he called for. Aemond waited with bated breath when you paused at the car door, watching when you leaned forward and it exaggerated the curves your dress complemented. He would have followed you to the ends of the earth, but you only asked him to come upstairs.

The next morning, Aemond woke with your curled so perfectly against his chest, his silver hair between your fingertips. He did not move because he did not want to wake you and allow this tranquil moment to end. You were cute when your eyes fluttered open to take in your surroundings and he handed you your glasses.

You seemed to not want him to leave and he stayed until Sunday. Even then you hesitated to let him go and he made sure to follow up with you, just a simple text that thanked you for the lovely weekend. He followed to ask when you would be available and was surprised when he did not get even an emoji for a response.

Aemond waited before sending another text, but when he saw he had been left on read, he let it be. Maybe you thought the weekend was a mistake? Perhaps you had not enjoyed yourself like he assumed you had?

The abrupt end confused him, until he received an alert from Amazon, suggesting a new book release from an author he made sure to follow.

Your pseudonym, an anagram of your first and last name.

He read Hazy Shades of Spring in one sitting and knew he had to see you again.

“Hello, professor,” Aemond stepped into your office. “If you have a moment, I came to seek out your expertise on a matter.”

Your expression was stunned, your lips parted for a moment and your cheeks rosy from his severe gaze, his one sapphire eye glinting in the office light. “Yes, Aemond, hello,” you struggled for the greeting. “Please, sit down. How may I help you?”

There was the probability of running into him on campus, but you had not expected for him to come directly to your office. Your eyes could not help but drink in his lithe figure, the grace of his movements as he seated himself in the chair across from your desk. His expression would have been stoic except for the slight upwards curl of his lips, amused by your flustered state.

“I had some questions in regards to one's penumbra rights,” he began, watchful of your reaction with his deliberate words. “I think I could be a victim of unwarranted appropriation and I wonder how that would hold in the court of law?”

You could feel the blood drain from your face and your tongue pressed against your bottom lip, your teeth biting as you brought it forward to try and relax your jaw. The gesture was subtle with your attempt to calm your nerves, but it was not missed from his intense gaze.

Aemond fucking smirked.

Your eyes narrowed on him. “You would need undeniable proof of tort liability,” you began, your voice hoarse with your reply and you cleared your throat before continuing. “It would need to be undeniable that your likeness had been used without consent.”

There was a pregnant pause; you refused to ask what he may or may not have and you watched the dimples line his cheeks with his knowing smile. “I believe I do have proof,” he finally said, reaching into his jean’s pockets and retrieving his phone. “It’s an ebook that was just released.”

Oh, fuck.

You force your features to relax and watch his screen light up, filled with text. “His mien is breathtaking, the sharp contours of his features-”

“That description could be used for any protagonist worth noting,” your voice interrupts, almost shrill; you find yourself standing on your side of the desk, your hands pressed on top to anchor you.

“Perhaps,” he replied, his eye flitted to you for a moment. Your breath came out slow through your parted lips, watching as he looked back at the screen and continued to read. “The severity of his gaze was offset by the sapphire stone-”

Your moves are quick and clumsy, coming around the desk and clasping your hands over his; your cheeks are flushed and you are bold with your stare. “Aemond,” you finally find your voice. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

There is a moment that his expression hardens, a flash of an emotion that is wiped away and instead his perpetual smirk returns to play at his lips. He pulled his hands away, pushing to stand while tucking his phone into his pocket.

You fall back as he takes a step towards you, his silver hair spilling forward when he leans forward to hold you attention. “I actually came for clarity,” his eye flits to your lips and he purses his own for a moment. “I had thought we had a lovely weekend together, but every reach out I attempted since had been left on read.”

“Aemond,” you say his name with your exhale, breaking away and looking at the floor.

His head tilts with a slight hum as he looks over your stance; your bottom is pressed to the edge of the desk and your arms stiff at your sides, with a hold on the profile that has your knuckles white with your grip, like you could not trust your idle hands.

“I had thought,” he softened his tone. “I thought I had done something to offend you, or perhaps… you did not enjoy yourself, until…” you looked up and saw the glimmer of hope that danced through the aloof façade of Aemond Targaryen. He didn’t finish the thought and instead said, “I also came here because I want to take you on a proper date, to go to an agreed location, where I will be punctual and we will have dinner together.”

You cannot form words; your face is burning and you make a noise of disbelief, a mixture of a gasp with an almost laugh that stops in your throat by the touch of his warm palm to cup your cheek. His hold keeps you from looking away again, his stare intense. “I am telling you what I want, why I came here.” He leaned forward until the tip of his nose touched yours, the breath of his words fans your jawline and you can feel the ripple of goosebumps all over. “But if you are not interested, tell me now and I will stop. I will leave you alone.”

You did not want him to leave you alone.

In fact, that weekend was on an endless loop in your mind. After he left, you began to write, fervently, and with every keystroke, you poured the intimate, delicious details into a transcript, hoping that when you sent it in, it would empty your mind of him.

It did not and Aemond consumed your thoughts. You remembered the ease of conversation, the comfort of his presence, and how you craved his touch, how alive you felt pinned under his steady gaze.

Now he was in your office and his steady gaze was burning; you bit your bottom lip, your fervor basked in the flame of his stare, savoring the warmth that he exuded. His scent washed over you, just his proximity made your skin feel aflame.

The moment ends when Aemond relaxes his stance, falling back a step, and only then did you react. Your hand touches the junction of his shoulder to his throat, your fingers curling around the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours. He welcomes your mouth with a lusty frenzy and you moan when you feel his tongue move to taste your mouth.

He closes in on you, his thigh pushing your legs apart and his hand on your jaw to tilt your head, moving to ghost his lips on the column of your neck until they reach your ear. “I love that you are a woman of action,” his husky tone and words tickle your skin. “But, remember, I require verbal consent.”

Your hands move to his jawline, your right hand hovering and careful to not quite touch. “Yes, Aemond, please,” you beg him, your eyes wide. “I wanted to reply but I…”

He interrupts your words with another kiss and he is hungry to taste you again. Your arm wraps around his neck and the other hand is pressed against his solid chest. His hands move to follow the curves of your hips and wrap around to cup below your ass, bringing you flush against him.

Your hands drop to unbutton your jeans and you feel his warm palms slip into the waistband of both, pulling your underwear as he peels you bare. He presses against you, lifting to set you on the desk edge before kneeling in front of you and unlacing each Converse shoe. Aemond sets them aside and returns to grab the fabric to pull it off; you burn from his stare and he leans to kiss the inside of your knee, his lips trailing your thighs and his hand pulling himself to stand again.

You watch him bring two slender fingers to his mouth and wet them with his tongue, before they dip between your thighs. A gasp spills from your kiss-swollen lips when he touches you with familiarity, following the crease of your wet folds and the slow curl of his finger inside you.

He watches your response, the arc of your back with the rub of his fingertips in your velvet walls until you mewl his name. Aemond hums, a smile to his lips, and adds a second finger, continuing the same come hither motion to that same sweet spot. His wrist shifts, allowing his thumb to press against the nub above with ample pressure and you moan loudly to his touch. Aemond continues his ministrations until he feels you clenching; there is a lewd sound of your wet heat and how his fingers continue to fuck you through your climax, until you whimper from the overstimulation.

You look at him through lidded eyes, still on the curtails of your release; he licks his fingers clean with a grin, his gaze narrowing on you. “Is it better than the book?”

Your look hardens and you push from the desk, desperate to pull his shirt over his head and the fall of his silver tresses tickle your face; your cardigan falls to the ground, your fitted shirt follows. He is still smug when you place your hands on his chest and push for him to fall back into the chair, your touch falling to unbutton his jeans.

Aemond lifts his hips to bring it down enough, his hand wrapping around the base of his member. Your mouth waters at the sight and you step to straddle the chair, lowering yourself so he can line with your entrance before you sink further.

You moan as he fills your velvet walls and he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into your neck and allowing you a moment to adjust to his size. With slow breaths, your nails bite into his shoulders and you press onto the balls of your feet to rise and lower onto his length.

There is a soft echo in the office with the lewd noises, the suction of your cunt to take him in and your wanton moans when he begins to thrust upwards, meeting your motion. He presses his lips against your ear with the hot whisper, “Stop clenching or I won’t last.”

You almost purr from the sensation, turning your head to find his lips. “You’re fine,” your voice is breathless. “I’m on the pill.”

He stills and you look to see his pupil blown, taking you in; without a word, his hands grip into the soft flesh of your ass and he moves to lift you. You squeak your surprise, your legs quick to wrap his waist as he takes a step towards the desk; the polish wood is cool to the touch when he sets you down, reaching behind you to clear away the clutter and laying you back on the desktop, positioning you until you are nearly folded in half.

This new angle has you a mewling mess of tears, the flutter of your cunt encourages his fingers to bruise into your hips with a brutal pace until you see stars.

You can feel the twitch of his cock and a low, guttural groan from the back of his throat with his peak. Aemond leans forward, his forehead damp and pressed to yours, his breath warm with his exhale until it evens again.

He looks and notices a box of kleenex, reaching for it and is careful to clean the mess. You sit up, still feeling the trough of the waves of your release tingling over, your hand moving to pull the hair tie and your fingers comb out the braid.

Aemond rightens his jeans, but does not button them; instead, he looks at you, another hum as he reaches to cup your face, bringing his lips to your forehead and then tilting your head back to find your lips. You stare at him a moment, warm from his touch and also shy at the realization you are still very much naked.

“What now?” You ask, pushing to stand.

He pulls you against his bare chest and your heart flutters from his warmth. “Depends,” he murmurs and you pull back to look up at him. “Which restaurant did you want to go to?”

#ask me anything #part 2 #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female!reader #here is the smut you all wanted #my tumblr kindred spirits #thanks for reading #♥

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nikox400x · 2 months

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Kung Fu Panda 4-All the budget went to the animation (spoilers)

Hey all, its me, the guy who everyday make a tour around this site but almost never talk. How are ya?

Two days ago something arrived to the cinema's screens, something that me and everyone were waiting for since 2018, the fourth film and the begginig of the new kung fu panda triology.

You know? When I sat on that theather seat with my friends to see what Dreamworks had prepared for us, I told myself; "Maybe that post I made a while ago throwing shit at what seemed like Kfp 4 was going to be was a bit hard, I hope I can come out regretting what I said that time"

And as soon as the credits ended, it was clear to me, I dont regret a shit. Maybe it was a little exaggerated, compared to what a megamind fan would think about the terrible sequel they made, but still: the film is crappy and boring most of the time. But why?

I'm going to explain some points.

1- Po? Is that you?

I don't know you guys, but i don't think the panda we knew in the end of the third film is the same as this one. Seriously, he share more comparisons with the Po from the legend of awessonless than the one from the films, maybe its a personal thing but it feels that way. At least in the beggining of the film feel like that.

And I don't know what he was thinking about when he decided to follow a thief he doesn't know at all and who tried to steal in his own palace, and that suspiciously know who is the chameleon, whose were her plans, her past, where she lived, where exacly they had to pass through avoiding all the guard inside her home, why the others thiefs of the city hate her so much... With Po's experience with criminals this is like a chef throwing water on a pan with boiling oil, it's obvious what is going to happen.

2- Zheng- Female Nick Wilde but without charisma or half of his intelligence.

I knew it from the first moment I saw Zheng's desing, the people who know me can corroborate that; her facial expressions, her tone while she talk, her animal race, her position as thief, her final when she is part of the justice same as the protagonist... it's clearer than water I think.

Everyone could say this is forgivable if she's smart, but surprise, she's not. This character is just an absurd try of this company for """"conect with infant audience""""(I don't know in what sense, I supose for the cute design, idk). But the point is, the supposed objective of the hollywood companies is give the new generetions better things than we got at their age, but what I see is laziness for write a decent scrip only for take an advantage of a known IP and make easy money. Even the children have quality standars, this is not the dragon warrior and of course this is not kung fu panda.

And talking about the dragon warrior, having our deep and lovely Tigress with her magnific development or Tai Lung back from the spirit realm... why in the hell this character exists?! Oh yeah, for being trending topic in twitter for three days. Yay...

3- The furious five and Shifu, for us : our pretty boys, and for Dreamworks: living jokes.

What made Kung Fu Panda what it is, is not the fucking panda, it's them. They're the inspiration for Po, their allies, the royale representation of kung fu and the ones which everything started with.

Po's a comic relief, and his mission is show his development in part using his humor, but the humor in this film barely works because of the lazy script. Something that even the talented Jack Black himself can't fix, beacuse his only role there is dublin his character, unlike the rest of the residents of the Jade Palace except Dustin Hoffman.

Seth Rogen (Mantis) himself even said that he wasn't even contact by Dreamworks in the first place, only for make a scream in the credits, that's sad beacause he really wanted to see Mantis on the screen. And I know and I understand that the five are expensive, but cmon, they could just simply change the voice actors and offset it with a good script but that's not the case of course. Their role in the film is being a counter for Po's constant jokes, for not to saturate the spectator with jokes, now that's not in there anymore, thank you Dreamworks.

4-The chameleoooohhn and her "motivation".

I can't say much, basically because out of her design she's nonsense. She says that because of her size, she was reyected for being a kung fu warrior.

Yeah of course but only one little thing, what about Shifu? Viper, a warrior without tips? Mantis, literally a dawn insect? Master Oogway, a TURTLE? The masters goose? C'mon even there's a fucking master chicken! Don't talk shit chameleon!

Her importance for the plot? Its almost a lie, the others villains had links to important characters; Tai Lung (with his link to Shifu's past), Shen (with his link to Po's past) or Kai (with his link to Oogway's past), all of them related to important characters. And her? To zheng's past and present I guess? But again, anyone know this character. She's like a villain from a Disney show, you know the type of villain who say a lot of things but at the end, she don't support nothing to the lore.

And her personality is like a mix of all the previous villains, and this sounds good right? HAHAH nope. Do you remember when as a child you mixed all the plasticines of all the colors to create the final color and you ended up with a color similar to poop? well that's exacly how her personality feels like.

5- Po's dads; the only reason they're there is because they ran out of characters to make the film.

The tittle itself tell everything, they don't do anything for the script in all the film, and their objective could be done since the start.

The script of the film except for the final looks like a draft which they didn't know how to complete, everyone who watch it can see it perfecly. The animation, the music and the backgrounds are the only things notable here.

6- Tai Lung and the cheapness nostalgia.

Fan service is not necesarry bad, above all if is used in a good way, they sold us Tai Lung as a miracle but his importance for the plot feels just like a Stan Lee cameo, I like Tai Lung I can say that. But this is too weak, Shen and Kai are only characters in the background who don't do nothing except being defeated or make facial expressions (I don't even joke that Shen would show respect to Po considering what we saw in the second movie, and Kai wasn't supposed to be destroyed as a spirit, what the hell is he doing here again? *sign* I'll to stop trying to make sense of this).

By the way, anyone else think that the dragon warrior role is understimated? I mean Shifu obligated Po to transfers the role to another one just because yes, i mean he only has been the dragon warrior for less than 5 years and now they want to replace him with a random. Everything just for at the end, he choosed a thief with at least 30 crimes registred and who was a traitor during the 75% of the movie.

7- The """""""""humor"""""""", except they forgot the parts where I must to laugh.

Seeing nonsense hits only beacuse yes stopped of being funny a long time ago, and no, I don't want to talk about the bunnies of the portrait because I would get sick. I had to go to the cinema drunk to endure the filler that the movie had, no joke, it was the only way to laugh at those jokes.

So I think about applying the same method as in any movie with bad jokes, ignoring the jokes. I tried to do the same thing but with the pace that the film managed, such a thing was impossible, the pace of the movie seems to be made for Tiktoker children with attention deficit. From the chaos in the quarry until Po takes the bitc... uhg fox out of prison, only 10 fucking minutes pass, all of that for what? So that you feel like the baseless information and the nonsensical plot that they tell us is of any use? they could simply make a non-canonical short and that's it, but no, yes or they were going to tell us a story written by rotten old men who spend the entire day watching Tik Tok. It's not going to be that the child who sees this doesn't get bored, we know that much today's children don't have many neurons as they say, but even to make movies for them you have to have a certain talent.

In some point at the beguining Po make a joke about the ausence of the furious five saying that at least he had them in cardboard posters, and this would be a good joke. Only if the stupid film could be prove that the franquise can do something memorable without the furious five, but again, that's not the case.

Don't have any respect for this movie, look what it had with you. I understand that it is enjoyable because of the animation but it does not go beyond that line, it destroys important things about the canon and spoils its teaching about the need for change by treating it in a terrible way.

Coclusion: KFP 4 is just another Po's adventure as Shifu says, it won't tell nothing to you or make you feel different, it's a shame but after Megamind 2 I imagined something like this. It's a dark era for film, expecially the animated one so like Scar said; Be prepare, there're worse things waiting for us.

Do you want something with real quality? You don't even need kung fu panda 1,2 or 3, for make it easy to this film let's take this marvelous example; kung fu panda: secrets of the scroll (2016). You'll say; "An animated short, this is not like-" Shhh Just watch it, you won't regret it.

If you think I'm wrong in something, just rewatch the film. And if still you aren't agreed with me, well, I respect you and I'm happy you like it. I wish I could love it as you do, but that doesn't mean that the movie isn't bad, because if you watch it with your brain on or remembering the previous movies it's terrible.

. Me? I've to write a story, I love you all. Except you, Dreamworks, I'm mad with you, expecially when you do this at the same day as Akira Toriyama's death :(

#kung fu panda #secrets of the scrolls #kung fu panda 4 #kung fu panda 2 #tigress #furious five #akira toriyama #dreamworks #po ping #lord shen #tai lung #general kai #kung fu panda 3 #the lion king

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arachnixe · 3 months

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A Witch's Regrets

Who am I anymore? What do I want?

I know what I was. Once upon a time I was a witch of some renown. I was the foremost expert on Permanence. My research dolls and I were going to, at last, unlock the secret of true immortality.

I never noticed that reality itself was sick.

Too busy looking down and inward, I never looked out and saw the signs.

When the crucial last step of my plan for immortality relied on a functioning and Permanent reality, ah… That’s where it all went wrong.

So I died, yet my spirit lingers in my bones.

Silent. Still.

I am patient. Not by nature, nor by learning the skill, but simply by having my own humanity scoured away by the erosion of millenia.

Time itself made for an effective crucible to burn away my personhood.

But if I am not a person, then what am I?

She too is not what she was: a doll of middling quality who was never particularly trainable or obedient, one caught too many times wandering the house aimlessly instead of performing her duties or obediently waiting to be assigned one.

A perfect candidate for experimentation.

I was disappointed, but not exactly heartbroken, when such experimentation seemed to ruin her. She was just an object to me, and a doll that has fallen inert is of no use.

After all, sentimentality is a waste, and to discard such a thing is only prudent, right?

Ironic, then, that I find myself in a state that one can only describe as “fallen inert” while Dolly returns to me, full of life and glowing with strange power, imbued with a Permanence that has outlasted the rest of this decaying world.

She’s outlasted me, certainly.

And yet I find her sentimentality toward me to be…welcome. Not wasted. Not to me.

She treats me like a doll of her own. Well, the way some other, more sentimental, witches I knew treated their dolls. I laughed at them for such behavior as I now desperately crave.

This creature talks to me incessantly, offering me companionship I'd forgotten I long for.

She fictionalizes our history together. She imagines I ever cared about her.

I now understand the true meaning of guilt. She makes a better witch, and a better person, than I ever was.

Inch by inch I strive to claw my way back to relevance.

It is slow, and I fear I am losing the race against the encroachment of the unraveling edge of reality, but sometimes this doll—this precious doll—finds herself resonating with me in such a way that I can send a hint.

At those times, the words she puts in my mouth have something in common with what I desperately want to say.

In spite of many false starts and strange detours, she is learning the art of dollmaking.

To be made into a witch’s doll is a fate I once considered worse than death, but if I am to be hers…

It might not be so bad. It may also be our only salvation.

She puts such care into the carving of every little detail in what will become my wooden body. The details of the face, the line of every limb—she ignores my suggestions and carves them according to her desire.

I find myself content to yield control to her vision, and I am surprised less by that feeling than I am to discover I do not need to tell her everything.

Though she attributes the words to me, much unexpected knowledge of dollmaking comes from within her.

Ah, I see. In our past life, she read from my personal grimoires.

There was a time I would have been furious to learn of such a trespass from one of my dolls.

Now, however? I feel pride in my former doll. I have come to hate the person I was, and to enact such a crime against her—such that she never suspected a thing!—fills me with joy.

Dolly carves space inside the body so that it may act as an appropriate vessel for my remains.

A hollow head for my skull. A slot in its lower jaw to cradle my own jawbone. The rest of my bones carefully disassembled and arranged inside the torso.

It is a perfect reliquary.

It is a more perfect doll.

Reality itself withers and decays around us, leaving a shrinking island of safety, and still she takes her time painting me, unwilling to permit any brush stroke to be out of place.

This is love, isn’t it?

She must sense my anxious restlessness about the encroachment of the Unreal Sea on us.

“Now hold on, Missy, I’m almost done!”

I can’t say I mind the diminutive. It even pleases me.

I calm myself and return my mind to patience and stillness. I choose to trust her judgment.

When at last she completes the work, casting the last spell to animate her new doll, I feel touch again as though for the first time.

I bring a doll-jointed hand to my face and experimentally flex my fingers.

It’s perfect.

I’m perfect.

I’m exactly the way she made me to be, in accordance with her vision and her will.

I have demonstrated what I do when I am given the freedom to choose, and I am content to relinquish my choices to her from now on.

I know who I am. I am my witch’s doll, and if “Missy” is the name she chooses for me, then that is my name.

What I want, more than anything, is to use my vast lifetime of knowledge to rescue her from this blighted reality.

Dolly deserves her own happy ending.

#my writing #empty spaces #repost #witches #dolls #missy & dolly

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badbatchposts · 27 days

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Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Chapter 4

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut (not for a few chapters still), Canon-Typical Violence

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3

Chapter 4 summary: The Batch are so bad at being under the radar. They learn more about the mysterious woman; Crosshair doesn't trust her.

“Don’t go to sleep, burk’yc.” Crosshair could see the woman nodding off any time he left her with a few moments of silence. She blinked her eyes open again and refilled her mug with more hot water.

“You’re not exactly the most fascinating conversationalist,” she remarked. She eyed his rifle, which he was methodically cleaning and breaking down, his post-mission ritual. “You’re not a bad shot. I saw the trooper helmets when you were done with them. Guess that’s where you get the name. Bullseye, was it?”

“It’s Crosshair. And I’m better than not bad,” he scoffed testily.

“I suppose that’s why you waited until after I was shot to step in. Or maybe you’re just scared of the Empire.” Her voice was neutral, but she had played her hand too obviously; she was goading him, probing for information just like he was.

He reined himself in and went on the offensive. “I wonder,” he purred, “if your hair’s that color everywhere.”

Crosshair expected steel, fury, maybe a flush coming over her cheeks. Instead, she ran her fingers through her locks disinterestedly, picking out the leaves he had noticed before. Both ears, he observed as her hair was smoothed out of the way, were pierced from top to bottom with a series of small silver rings. “It didn’t used to be. Last few years haven’t been the gentlest for the galaxy, have they?” She nodded at the closely cropped gray hairs that coated his own head, growing back patchily around the burn scar at his temple. “What’s your excuse, grandpa?”

“Genetic enhancement,” he replied cryptically.

“Guess that explains the big guy.” She gestured to Wrecker, who was dead-lifting Gonky at the other end of the ship, before offering her beverage to Crosshair. “It’s supposed to be a communal practice,” she explained in response to his raised eyebrow. He made no motion to take it, eliciting a shrug from her. “That’s alright. I always drink it alone anyway.”

“What? No one likes sharing with you?”

“My life seems like it’s a lot less…communal…than yours.” She glanced vaguely around the ship, which was littered with evidence of their co-habitation. “I suppose mercenaries run in packs.”

“We’re not mercenaries,” Hunter interrupted, rejoining them. He had always taken issue with that term. “We’re clone troopers.”

Crosshair prickled a little. He would never understand why the others had been so difficult to track down during his time with the Empire. Hunter didn’t seem to get the finer points of staying off the radar, since he took the opportunity to expose who they were to the first pretty face they came across.

“Haven’t seen a lot of clone troopers that look like you all.” The woman offered Hunter the mug; sniffing curiously, he took a sip.

“It’s good. Thank you,” he said. Crosshair could tell what Hunter was doing. Where the sniper was rigid, aloof, difficult, the sergeant could be considerate, relatable, diplomatic. He thinks he can break you down this way. But he’ll only get a more amenable version of you, the marksman thought. The woman’s face did appear to soften as his brother continued. “We’re a bit different from the rest of them. But with the Republic gone, none of us are soldiers anymore. Gotta find ways to make ends meet.”

The woman seemed to be opening up. Crosshair didn’t trust a minute of it. “Yeah, I know all about that. It’s hard to get by these days.” She turned to Hunter with a small smile. “I’m Dara.”

“Dara.” He smiled back at her. “Any reason we should be worried that the Empire might come looking for you, Dara?”

She shook her head. “The shuttle really was… well, not exactly a misunderstanding. I just panicked. I’ve been traveling. I was staying in a village on Takodana when the Empire began rounding up all the villagers—I have no idea why. I hid and tried to make a break for my ship, but some troopers spotted me. The shuttle was closest. I managed to take off but it took a hit before I entered hyperspace, and that was just where I ended up when my systems started failing.”

Hunter looked thoughtful. “Well, they probably won’t come after you. But I wouldn’t risk going back to Takodana. You likely won’t be getting your ship back.”

He was already heading back to his bunk when Dara spoke up again. “Thank you. I mean it. All of you.” She shot grateful looks at Tech and Crosshair in particular. “I’m lucky you found me when you did.” She was treated with another smile from Hunter as he left. Tech looked rather pleased with himself.

Crosshair leaned toward her, drinking in her beatific expression as he looked into her eyes. “Liar,” he hissed. Even as her expression remained largely impassive, her eyes glinted and nostrils flared ever-so-slightly, hinting at the snarl she was just barely containing. There, he though, leaning back satisfactorily. The knife’s edge of her self-control. That was a start.

#bad batch #clone force 99 #star wars #the bad batch #clone wars fanfiction #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #clone trooper tech

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good-beanswrites · 3 months

Note

hii hiii is it alright if I request something with kotoko and haruka?(platonic ofc) their character foils drive me insane with all the weak stuff authngghn icant be normal about them

Oooh thank you so much for the request! I realized that these two actually have one of the smallest windows to talk easily, given Haruka's nervousness and Kotoko's T2 changes. They have such interesting approaches to strength/weakness, and I hope I could capture it a bit here! This takes place immediately following Kotoko's bday timeline after Harrow's release:

“I’ll accept those birthday wishes…” Kotoko gave him a wave over her shoulder as she returned to making her bed.

She shook her head in awe. It was rather impressive how quickly the boy had changed after his verdict. The others had more subtle differences, but he was someone entirely new. She could rest easy, at least, knowing that her verdict wouldn’t change her much. For as long as she could remember, she’d been like this. She knew where she stood, and neither guilty nor innocent verdict would affect that. This verdict was really only an indicator on whether the warden could be trusted or not.

Her body tensed up when she turned back around, startled by Haruka lingering silently in the doorway. She decided against chastising him for scaring her half to death. Still, she couldn’t keep the bite from her voice as she asked, “did you need something else?”

“Ah… I just…” He twisted his hands together. “I had a question.”

He fell silent, but Kotoko could tell he was chewing on his next words. She waited.

“H-how do you do it? All the time? You’re older and stronger and braver and I-I just don’t know how.”

“Give yourself some credit. I’m not that much older, or stronger. I only have, what -- two, three years on you? And you did very well in the arm wrestling tournament the other day.”

She wasn’t being patronizing. For someone so sheltered, Haruka could do some damage. He stood a few inches taller than her. The others had taken the arm wrestling as a little game, but Kotoko had used the event to measure up her fellow prisoners. After his close match with Mikoto, she had made a mental note to take him seriously.

“No…” his expression twitched, getting frustrated with the misunderstanding. “Not muscles. I mean… you don’t have someone like Muu. You don’t need someone next to you all the time. But you still talk with everyone… and it looks easy. All the time. You always know what to say, and what to do. You never look scared. You never cry.”

Kotoko’s smile softened. She wasn’t the prideful type, but his words gave her a wave of accomplishment. She certainly was scared. She did cry. But she wasn’t about to show a single crack in her resolve in front of anyone here. Haruka had given her the greatest of compliments by confirming her success.

“Ah, you mean strength of spirit. Well, that doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. It comes with my purpose, with my virtues.”

“Virtues…?”

“I see the injustice around me, and want to protect the innocent. When I see how awful the world can be, when I see the monsters that are hurting those who are weak, I can’t help myself.” She clenched her fist. “The power to do so just comes to me.”

“Oh…” Haruka looked down at his palms.

Her heart sank, realizing he didn’t quite understand. It was a shame that not all of humanity could be as righteous as her. That heroic drive had always come so naturally to her; she wasn’t sure she could put it into words to explain to others.

Haruka’s open hands were trembling. “Um. Is there any other way?”

“Hm?”

“All my life… I only cause pain to everyone.” His worry gradually turned to desperation.” I hurt everyone who gets close to me. Especially things that are small and weak. My whole life, I’ve been nothing but a… a curse. So… is there another way? Please. I want to be better. I want to be strong! I want to be like you! Tell me!”

He stepped forward, pleading. Kotoko stepped back.

His blue eyes widened at her sudden shift into defense. “Ah! I. I’m sorry. I’m-I’m sorry. It’s your birthday. You should be… Have a g-good day.”

“Wait.” Kotoko stopped him before he could flee. She was aware of the massive gap between them, the vastly different backgrounds they came from. Still, she offered the same advice that had helped her in her toughest of days.

“Don’t worry so much about others’ strength. The quickest way to burn yourself out is getting overwhelmed with the power that’s all around you. Once you start putting all your focus toward honing your own skills and strengths, you’ll realize how much you’re truly capable of. You don’t need anyone else. You’ll realize that you are enough.”

“I… am enough…?”

She placed a hand firmly on his shoulder.

“So, no need to get all worked up now, okay?”

“O-okay. I’ll do my best.” He stiffened, trying to appear worthy of her words.

She let out a bitter laugh. “I told the others not to do anything for my birthday, but I don’t think they paid me any mind.” Kotoko still couldn’t fathom how they were so friendly with each other given the situation. “Let’s go see if there’s some cake or something.”

#milgram #kotoko yuzuhira #haruka sakurai #thank you so much! this one was super interesting to write 👀#the thing is even though they dont have any direct problem between them they would still have a hard time communicating #but once they DO communicate there would so much they could learn from/help each other with!!!#this is leaning into my theory that kotokos murder (like harukas) was a rightful emotion that spiraled out of control #it really puts it into perspective how young kotoko is when you remember shes not too much older than haruka #and theyre both susceptible to strong emotions that stem from feeling weak int he face of the big scary world #but kotokos sees her as some blessing of power to serve her heroic thoughts and haruka sees his as a curse #ty to my pals who helped me find the exact spot in the timeline i was looking for 🙏#although kotoko doesnt believe she can change that easily she 100% undergoes the exact type of dramatic change as the others #once again referencing the arm wrestling info from yamanaka #between that and the fact that strangulation actually takes a fair amount of power #i just think its very good to remember that haruka is so physically strong #also something something kids looking up and wanting to be like kotoko and her complex emotions on that....#these two are sooooo interesting AH #drabbles

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cinnbar-bun · 1 year

Text

Peaceful Rest

Pairing: Marth x Alear/Reader

Rating: G

Words: 1025

Summary: It has been many years since they had fallen asleep. Marth continues to wait for them, hoping to be reunited with them again. He thinks of them and muses on their relationship. The best he can do for them right now is comfort them to the best of his abilities.

Notes: No major spoilers, nothing crazy at all just Marth wanting them to wake up. It's GN, they're not named, and no physical descriptions of their body is written, so feel free to imagine you, Alear, or your OC if you want. Marth for real the true relationship in Engage lmao.

Can be found on my AO3 right here!

Marth doesn’t know how to comfort them as they rest. He thinks of all the things they had gone through and the incredible pain they had suffered.

Normally, one would complain about being stuck in this situation, but Marth was a gracious man. He did his best to see the good in everyone and everything, regardless of what was going on.

He knew they would miss many years of their life, and, admittedly, he too lost track of how many years he had been waiting for them to wake up once more. But that was alright. He had grown to care for and enjoy their company from when they were awake. Even now, their bond was still close enough for him to want to make them feel better.

Here, he was close enough to notice their brows twitching slightly, as well as a small frown on their face. A sign they were troubled in their sleep. While it was unbecoming of someone of his ranking, he cast that notion aside and stretched his hand to lightly caress their head.

Marth honestly didn’t know if they could even feel him like that, but their face softened considerably. He assumed that even as a spirit, their bond made their connection more physical than what would have previously allowed.

With all these assumptions and unsure thoughts in his head, he began to speak again to their dreaming form. He called out their name, like one does to a friend. Or, perhaps, something closer? He hadn’t figured that out yet. All he could know was that he yearned for them to wake up and open their eyes.

“I wonder what you dream about,” he thoughtfully says. “Do you dream of your memories? Do you dream of the future? Why do you look so afraid of what you see?”

Well, he has an inkling of an idea why that is, but he wants to confirm it only through their words.

“Am I there, too? I know, it’s selfish of me to ask, but I wonder if you think of me by your side.”

He sighs and continues to stroke their head. They remain as still as a statue to his questions.

“It’s a beautiful evening outside. I think you would have loved it. The stars are just coming out and the sky is full of color. It… it reminds me of you.”

No response. No movement.

He’s used to it by now. But he won’t give up no matter how long he must wait.

“Queen Lumera stopped by. She prayed for you to awaken soon and then she introduced the third steward to take care of you. She’s a funny woman but she has an eye for detail. She started arranging flowers for you, saying they’ll ease your worries in your sleep. I think maybe she is right. You look more peaceful than before.”

He gazes down at their form, that bittersweet emotion rising within him once more. He knows he should let them rest, that he should let them be- but a selfish part of him wants to see them lively again. He would love to train by their side and listen to their voice.

Gods, how he would give anything to hear them talk again.

He truly did not understand how he had taken every little thing about them for granted when they were awake.

Their eyes, their smile, their laugh, the excited lilt in their voice when they saw something sparkly, and the way they would show all their emotions on their face.

Seeing them so quiet, so unnaturally still, made him realize just how much they had imprinted themself onto his psyche. If there was anyone he wished to defend and fight for again, it would be them. He would single handedly face an army of thousands in order to see their smile one more time.

He removed his hand from their head and placed it by his own self. He felt so weak in this situation. Here he was, a powerful hero-king who couldn’t even help the one he cared for so dearly. And here he was, a man who had missed the comfort his partner had brought him.

But he had to steel himself. He couldn’t falter, nor could he give in to despair. He would wait for them as long as he needed to, even if the world would be destroyed by then. He would wait forever and be the first to greet them as a new dawn approached.

He gently placed his hand over theirs, and recited a quiet prayer that he had heard the other worshippers say when they saw his partner.

“I hope my words are reaching you. I will always be by your side. I will come running to you the minute you call out my name. Please rely on me again. Because I… I am truly weak without you.”

A heavy weight was lifted off his shoulders as he continued.

“I hope your rest is a lovely one. I hope that when you wake up, we can continue to grow even more alongside each other. I hope that I can ease your worries while you are asleep, so you can live the life you truly wanted when you awaken. We made a promise to one another before and I intend to help you achieve all your dreams, if you’ll allow me that chance.”

He closed his eyes and let out of a quiet breath he didn’t know he was holding. He quietly whispered their name.

“I will do my best to support you, dear,” he smiled, keeping these intimate feelings brief. There was so much more he wished to say, but he felt it would be wrong to continue when they were unable to respond to him.

So, just like the many years before, he would wait for them and give them some comfort while they were resting. He would ease their fears and worries, and make way for pleasant dreams for them to think about. He couldn’t wait to hear all about them when they woke up.

It would be the best day ever, in his eyes.

#marth #marth fire emblem #marth x reader #marth x alear #my fics #my writing #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem engage #fe engage

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heliianth · 5 months

Text

actually bc im never gonna shut up abt it while im still on this im gonna ramble abt botw and totk and maybe how i wouldve written a sequel . & i will pay u money to listen i promise

my favoritest of totks ideas are what it expands from botw. botws whole atmosphere is drowned in quiet mourning. something bad has happened but it was a long time ago. it still hurts but theres nothing to be done now but move forward. something is still missing but all you can do is find something else. nobody has resources to rebuild and you can hear deafening echoes of better times but the alternative is giving up. you are in this frozen state of not quite moving on and not quite in despair. like the numbness stage of grief. and the pivotal element of all of that is that link is alone. like, oppressively alone. its the primary vehicle of conveying this mood. and its interesting because this can be read not only as what link is experiencing through the player but what zelda is feeling as she holds back ganon. its an interesting contrast to have zelda mature faster than link in the flashbacks, only for link to pull her the rest of the way by growing himself

and the reason why i so strongly adore the light dragon aspect of the plot is because it shows how attached to everything zelda has gotten. arguably, zelda held back ganon in botw because she loved link. in totk, she becomes the light dragon because she loves hyrule, which had previously been so unimaginably cruel to her. the crux of her character is learning that attachment is good. loving is good. you deserve to leave an imprint on the world in a shape of Your choosing instead of being another factory print on a paper. on a surface level, shes making the same choice, but the motivation and growth behind it is really powerful

i could waffle for literally ever about all that and the point is that totk takes these ideas and implements them really well through in-game worldbuilding and specifically zelda turning into the light dragon. i would occasionally get extremely emotional just seeing how things have expanded because it feels like the world is finally moving on. theres a catharsis in seeing hyrule finally heal after knowing its desolation so intimately, especially because the state of the land itself is such a strong parallel to the arcs of the two main characters, so you get the sense that not only can people move on, link and zelda specifically have started to as well. thats my favorite part

thats why i think its an odd choice that they decided on a time travel plot. if zelda HAS to be the one getting saved, if she cant be a companion in some way either via sheikah facetime or spirit tracks shenanigans or whatever, there are lots of ways to do this without her being magic fruit snacked ten bajillion years into the past. why spend all this effort intertwining her and link with the land, only to remove her from the equation and have no further growth? in botw its understandable that hyrule is stagnant and only changes when link does because zelda is stagnant and link is doing the one changing during the game. in totk its the opposite. there are lots of ways to do this with out Having to play as zelda (though honestly that would be the way id go about it)

also a lot of my own ideas have to do with the wasted potential of a place like the depths???? what the hell do you mean theres this mind bogglingly big cavern underneath the entirety of hyrule which mysterious people used to live in and it has almost no story relevance beside being a cool setpiece???????? I FEEL INSANE?!?!??!?!? there are so many good ideas in totk that never get expanded dude FUCK

i think no matter how much i speculate and draft my own preferences of how i wouldve liked totk to elaborate on the things it introduces i cant ever bring myself to present them like they couldve realistically happened and gotten thru the nintendo writing room simply bc of the games format. if it were up to me doing certain story missions would radically change the open world as events happened in real time and thats not the MO of the game's design philosophy. honestly totk's biggest enemy is the memory system and i need to kill it with fire

#for all im talking abt it i dont actually know how i would implement the light dragon twist in my own version of the story #in a way that would preserve that surge of emotion u get upon realizing who she is and get rid of the needlessly convoluted time travel #my first thought is that it happens in the depths and the connection is disguised by red herrings #and similarly to the light dragon breaking the cloud barrier it breaks areas of the depths open #so theres prophecies and literature about the light dragon or whatever down there that leads the player to believe that shes just-#-like farosh naydra and dinraal. that the depths is just where she hangs out #and she doesnt have a unique name like them because of a language barrier #heliichats #tloz

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vannahmontannah · 2 months

Text

~flowers in the rain

Rest of the story on Wattpad @ VannahMontannah

We were intimately involved, the kind of connection that transcends the mere physical, delving deeply into the emotional and spiritual realms. It was a bond cemented by shared secrets, whispered dreams, and the silent understanding that comes from truly knowing another's soul. Our worlds intertwined so seamlessly, it was as if we had known each other from a time before this life, two spirits destined to converge. The intimacy we shared was not just about the moments of physical closeness but about the late-night conversations, the laughter that filled the air, and the comforting silence that spoke volumes. It was in the way our eyes communicated everything our lips dared not say, and how a simple touch could express more love than a thousand words. Each day, we peeled back another layer, discovering intricacies and vulnerabilities, yet finding more reasons to love each other deeply. This intimacy was our sanctuary, a sacred space where we were our truest selves, unguarded and unafraid. It taught us the strength found in vulnerability, the courage in being seen, and the power of a connection that could weather any storm. Even in moments of disagreement, our foundation of intimacy allowed us to approach conflict with empathy, always finding our way back to each other. It was a profound, all-encompassing intimacy that transformed us, a testament to the beauty that arises when two souls are

A week has passed and here she is, lying side by side. I had my arm around her as she was still sound asleep. I figured since she was back in town for a minute, we can see each exclusively. I know it's sudden and Justin just got out the picture, but I think we're meant for each other. I know Zuri and I's relationship can excel more than what it is.

"It's such a bright day outside..." Zuri said in a raspy tone.

"Yep,"

I yawned and stretched and took a look outside. My blinds wasn't all the way closed, but I could still see a little bit of the way.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm much better now," she smirked.

"You gone tell me what happened with Justin?"

"I told him how I felt...he didn't like it and had a huge fit and started crying. I wasn't gonna calm him down though. But I think I dodged a huge bullet because he was still having his fits and he would get so angry. I knew it was a mistake. My friend and I talked and stuff and then she helped me move my stuff down here,"

"Do you still love Justin?"

"Like still in love or just in general?"

"Overall,"

"I'm not in love with him anymore, however, I still care about him. But I don't wanna be with him anymore. Gave him the ring back and everything. Half of my shit is in storage ready to be put in my house. I'm done this time,"

"So you have room for me?"

"I mean, I'm here with you, am I?"

"You know what I mean," I chuckled.

"I have all the space in the world for you,"

I kissed her cheek and pulled her in closer. I was still kind of tired so I was still dozing off here and there. That didn't matter though. All that mattered to me was that she was here with me and keeping me sane. From here on out, she's the only thing on my agenda.

#duke dennis #romance #love #18+ content

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bugswapau · 7 months

Text

Interview Wiggle!

Time to ask the rancher a few questions.

“Have time for an interview?”

Oh, dear, uh, I’ve never done an interview before. Um... how's it work?

“Who are you?”

Uh, Wiggle Wigglebottom. I look after all the Bugsnax in town and make sure they don't get lost.

“Why come to Snaktooth island?”

I heard Eggabell was looking for some Grumps to be part of her new family. And I figured I could really use one of those...

“You don't have a family?”

I used to, but then they... uhm... can we change the subject?

“Thoughts on Bugsnax?”

Well, aren’t they just the cutest little things you’ve ever seen? I don't understand how anybody could look into those precious little eyes and want to eat them!

“But everybody DOES eat Bugsnax, don’t they?”

Uh... Umm… Well, they’re not eating any of MINE and that’s all that matters!

“Why did you leave town?”

Without Egg to bring in Snax, the town went hungry. They treated my shelter like a grocery store! Well, I stood up for my babies! At least Triffany gave in and said she respected my wishes.

“Were your Snax really safe from Triffany?”

[sighs] Not quite. The next night, I woke up and she'd thrown my Snax into a bag! I panicked and freed the rest. It was heartbreaking, but it's better than watching them get eaten... I left that night for the mountains and started rebuilding my family.

“Are your Bugsnax safe from Gramble?”

…I’m not sure. Gramble can be a bit over the top, but he’s got a good heart. If he really likes me, hopefully he’ll learn to love Bugsnax the way I do.

“Any info on Eggabell?”

E-Eggabell? She'd bring me lots of new little ones to take care of. Sometimes we'd work together, training my babies. Sometimes she'd ask for one and I'd have to... say goodbye.

“What would she do with the Bugsnax?”

I like to think they're all like Sticky! Being just darling little helpers. But sometimes she didn't get enough on the hunt... and she always liked to bring something back for Lizbert. Can we change the subject?

“What happened to Eggabell?”

Sometimes I wake up at night, and I'm out of my bed, stranded in the woods. I think I see Eggabell out there, watching me like some sort of vengeful spirit. C-can we change the subject?

“Don’t worry, that’s all. I promise.”

Phew… I don't think I like interviews very much. Here. This was left in my shelter by Eggabell a while back. I never had the chance to return it. I'm not sure what it's for, but if you agree never to interview me again, it’s all yours.

#bugsnax #bugswap au #wiggle wigglebottom #bugsnax wiggle #interviews

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monpalace · 1 year

Text

QUEEN SONIA

insufferable (no pronouns)— or when you're helping sonia prepare for a date she doesn't want to go on.

FIERCE DIETY

undeserving (no pronouns)— or when you feel less than stellar, fierce deity finds himself wanting to make it better.

well-fed (no pronouns)— or when fierce deity has a lover that feeds him well, and the fruits of that labor.

FIRST

ever after (no pronouns)— or when first is freed by you, and how he feels following.

TIME

language (no pronouns)— or when time struggles to understand what the group says. he's thankful you're there for advice.

well-fed (no pronouns)— or when link has a lover that feeds him well, and the fruits of that labor.

still the same (she/her pronouns)— or when time meets twilight's other half. he's not surprised you kept all your best features.

still the same (she/her pronouns, written by 🧚🏽‍♀️ anon).

the supposed "beauty and the beast"-esque fic.

of monsters and spirits (she/her pronouns)— or when the lost woods gain two more inhabitants.

too tall (no pronouns)— or the consequences that come with being taller than the links.

TWILIGHT

romance (no pronouns)— or when twilight is your boyfriend and how he acts in a relationship.

we're just friends (no pronouns)— or how he responds when his (strictly platonic) relationship is misinterpreted.

to protect (no pronouns)— or when someone asks majesty to share their thoughts on a protective/possessive twilight.

still the same (she/her pronouns)— or when twilight has to go through the same things time did, only romantically.

still the same (she/her pronouns, written by 🧚🏽‍♀️ anon).

SKY

rupees (no pronouns)— or when sky accidentally makes his crush drop their rupees. he has his moments when it comes to romance, he thinks.

feather (no pronouns)— or when sky upholds the traditional skyloftian culture by offering his love interest a feather from his skyloft.

misunderstanding (no pronouns)— or skyloft's culture surrounding romance and sky's relationship with someone not from it.

WARRIORS

old dog, old habits— or warriors and wind are separated from the rest of the chain. they have to find some way to get by.

too tall (no pronouns)— or the consequences that come with being taller than the chain.

FOUR

Hey, the note on the shelf starts, this is the owner/s of the sword on the shelf.

Your eyes flicker to the sword in question before returning to the letter.

Under no— the word is stressed by slants and underlines— circumstance should you touch that sword. You'll be split into four and that's an entire situation.

Or do; it's not as though we can help you if you decide to, another note reads.

VIO, you can hear the shout in this one. SHUT UP.

WILD

This shelf is a mess.

Incomprehensible is easily the word you'd use to describe it if asked.

There's raw ingredients, ores, full-scale weapons, shed hairs, hair ties, clothes and armor sloppily put in a pile, and sludges of something put on plates.

You think you'll be sick.

WIND

You're not touching that box no matter how curious you are. Curiosity killed the cat and you don't think the satisfaction will bring it back.

Grabbing one of the many rocks amongst stones and pebbles, you toss it at the box and take several steps backs, waiting for something to happen.

Second guesses begin to cloud your mind when nothing happens for a few moments, stepping back in front of the shelf only to be met with a face-worth of paste and feathers.

The sound of laughter runs by you, exiting the library.

HYRULE

This shelf was a fairy haven. There were beds, cushions, plants, and snacks that were scaled so they would fit whatever fairy that may come across it.

If you could, you'd crawl your way inside and make yourself comfortable.

LEGEND

we're just friends (no pronouns)— or how he responds when his (strictly platonic) relationship is misinterpreted.

#loz requests open??#idk i havent read lu and dont really plan to #their dynamics r fun to me #anyways #girl (gn) what the fuck is a hyrule #I MEAN LEGEND #i think i played one of his games but like..........#hes forgettable to me im sorry #rilai's library

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flowerywhispers · 4 months

Note

Yandere Witira x Mermaid Reader?

The reader is unconcerned about anything in the world, including their own life or the war, all they want is peace.

They saved Witira once when she was deeply hurt.

Witira met the reader again by Cale (the reader is the one who gives out information about the mermaid tribe so that the war can be finished early).

| | To you, who I owe my life and my peace | |

Character(s): Witira

TW: Yandere, technically kidnapping (?), manipulation, injury mention, coercion kind of (?), allusions to murder

Notes: Gender neutral reader || Mermaid! reader || I’m SO sorry, this took me ages because I wanted to change my blog up so I just never got around to posting it 😭

It’s so easy for Witira to love you. You who is unbothered with power struggles, you who cares not for position, you who cares not for who is on which side. You who wants peace and hates this dreadful war.

You who had saved her life despite being from the mermaid tribe, despite it being a huge risk to your well-being if she decided when she woke up that you had bad intentions. She remembers the way that you smiled at her, half-hearted and as if it was something that you had heard a million times before, when she asked you why you had helped her.

She remembers your response. “I don’t care for the war or all of its petty sides, it’s hard enough watching the people I care about suffer, I don’t feel too comfortable leaving anyone else to suffer either,” and she remembers how unusual of a view it seemed to her.

“Is that not how you feel?”

Of course she wanted peace, she took no pleasure in the suffering of innocents. But to be so unconcerned with the war, to see it as nothing more than a waste of time that brought harm to everyone regardless of the outcome, that was something that she did not expect from someone who was one of the innocents that she did not wish to get involved.

“Of course it is. But aren’t you being too carefree about this?”

She wants to think you stupid for a moment, naive even. The idea of you being heavily sheltered being the first to come into her mind.

She remembers your care, allowing her into your home. She remembers the way that you shrugged when she asked you if you were worried that she would ever turn you in to Cale to see if they could get information from you. She remembers the way that you said that it would be a better use of your time if it would stop the war.

Your gentle hands as you looked after her, the way that you made a more conscious effort to learn about her while she was under your care and the way that you waved goodbye to her when she left.

No one who didn’t need protecting would act in such a way, she thought to herself. No one who wasn’t vulnerable would be able to rest their hands so gently on another’s as they wished them good luck. Much less when the other was an enemy to their tribe.

You were so free, and she wanted to keep that. She wanted to keep that spirit of yours alive, she wanted to protect it, she wanted to experience the warmth of it every moment that she had the chance. She wanted it to herself and she couldn’t understand why.

She told you that she owes you her life and, once she heard of a mermaid that had divulged the secrets of the mermaid tribe, she realised that she owes you her peace as well and it’s difficult for you to decline when she requests that you stay with her for a time so that she can repay you.

Her mind muddles the longer she stays in your presence.

You’re so free. She remembers loving that about you but she hates the way that you stray from her. You’re so indifferent but she wants you to care about her. She wants your attention on her.

But when you argue that you want to leave, the air oppressive and constricting your throat - you weren’t supposed to be on land for this long, it was making you weak - she doesn’t want you to change. She just wants you to be hers.

“Witira, I can’t-“ She flinched a little at the way that your voice cracks. “I can’t stay here, you know it.”

She owes you her life. She owes you the lives of so many people that have been saved from the continuing war because of the way that you are, why couldn’t you just let her repay you?

She doesn’t want to hurt you but she does little to help you with your diminishing strength that comes as a result of you being out of water for so long. The magic that was used only gave you legs, it didn’t retain your physical body which depended on your home territory to live. She didn’t do anything but continue to try and pamper you, helping you stand and sit and eat like you were a child. She preferred it when you couldn’t do those things on your own.

She just had to convince you to give her the same opportunity to look after you that you had gotten when you had found her.

It was all for the best, she promised.

Don’t worry about how dry the air is, she’ll be taking you back to the ocean soon.

Don’t worry about all of the people staring; it doesn’t matter that you’re from an enemy tribe, she’ll deal with it.

Where did they go? Oh. Don’t worry about that. She just gave them a warning. Now just let her pamper you. No, no, she’ll miss you more than your family does if you leave. Just stay.

She isn’t asking anymore.

Do not, repost or claim. Only reblog 💕

#tcf fanfiction #tcf witira #tcf #lcf #lcf whitira #lcf x reader #lcf fanfic #tcf fanfic #lcf fanfiction #tcf x reader #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #lout of the counts family fanfic #lout of the counts family fanfiction #trash of the counts family fanfic #trash of the counts family fanfiction

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narrans · 6 months

Text

A Tall and Small Collection | S2.46 | & Everyone Needs A Little Hero :: Crossover :: True Colors Revealed pt. 5 (Finale)

The next morning was a rough one. The swelling and darkening of Ashlynn’s bruises made all of the boys anxious. She put on a brave face, but she was still very sore and was moving a little slower than she was the day before. After a long shower, she came out to find that Soren and his brothers had prepared some hot tea for her.

It was quite the acrobatic feat, but Soren, Dorian, and Rey had climbed up to the kitchen sink, pulled the rinse hose over to the electric tea kettle, and filled it. Dorian understood how to work the machine and was able to set it to the perfect temperature while Rey flipped up to the cabinet and got her a tea bag.

While they weren’t able to pour the hot water into the mug, they had everything prepped and ready for her.

“You guys,” mumbled Ashlynn, her lip slightly swollen as she looked at the work they had done.

“Next time, I’ll have an invention to do it all for you,” said Rey, who had already pulled out his sketchpad as they all settled in on the couch and was drawing out blueprints for a machine that would actually pour or syphon the hot water into a mug directly from the kettle.

“How are you feeling?” asked Dorian.

“That’s what we’d all like to know.” The family of five glanced over toward the edge of the couch to see Casper and Hero pulling themselves up onto the edge of the couch. Hero’s eyes widened as he was unable to disguise his surprise at seeing Ashlynn’s injuries. Casper maintained his composure, but he also seemed a little unnerved at Ashlynn’s injuries. The look in his eyes held the look of someone who didn’t believe something was possible. Undoubtedly, it hadn’t occurred to him that certain humans could be dangerous to others.

“We?” asked Ashlynn, lowering her voice a bit more than normal to make sure Casper was comfortable.

“The… community. A lot of us heard what happened last night, and the rest of us heard about the aftermath this morning,” stated Casper. “We wanted to make sure you were alright and… to thank you. You didn’t have to defend us the way you did, and if it wasn’t obvious before, it is apparent now that you are an ally.”

Ashlynn smiled as much as she could manage as she nodded. Words escaped her, not that they were needed to understand what she was feeling. Friendship and trust is hard won, and now she had it.

“At any rate, we came to ask if you needed anything from us and if there is anything we can do to help prepare for the move,” offered Casper.

“Yeah! We thought we could help with the boxes and if there are little things we can stitch or rearrange,” chimed in Hero as he glanced at his father and then back to Soren and his family.

“That’s certainly a relief that everyone’s willing to help,” said Soren. “Actually, today was the day Ashlynn was going to get the totes we need to move everyone. She has to go to the hospital first, right? But then she’ll be back with what we need.”

“Yeah, I need to make sure I get the pictures I need to file a proper civil suit against Austin,” said Ashlynn. “But I can get the totes first. There’s a place just down the road. That’ll give you all space to come out of the bedroom and work. Get some supply lists together and I’ll set everything out before I go to the hospital.”

Casper nodded and turned to leave, giving Hero a little pat on his shoulder, before leaving to go back to the bedroom.

Hero looked up at Ashlynn, bright green eyes latching onto the bruises and emotion filling his eyes.

“Are you feeling okay?” asked the teenage Borrower.

“I’ve been better, but thanks for asking,” smiled Ashlynn. “Anyway, I need to get moving if I am getting anything done today. The store shouldn’t be busy now too, so less people staring at my bruises.”

Soren looked up at Ashlynn, eyes beaming. He admired her resilience and her spirit. Even though last night was filled with terror, she was still able to smile. Even if the smile was forced, she was always trying to find a way to help them feel comfortable.

Before he could get her attention, Ashlynn excused herself to go and get changed. Within minutes, she had her purse over her shoulder and was waving good-bye to them, vanishing behind the front door as she headed toward the elevator. Soren thought about calling after her or getting her to wait so they could talk, but Rey stepped forward and tapped Soren on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Soren? I… well… I was wondering if I could go… with Ashlynn I mean. When she goes to the hospital,” said Rey. Soren’s eyes widened as he stared disbelievingly at his younger brother.

“Why on earth do you want to go to the hospital? Your inventive skills would be better served here with the toes,” said Soren. “Plus, it’s dangerous. We don’t know what they’ll need to do at the hospital. What if someone sees you?”

“I know it’s dangerous, but… I think Theo is still at the hospital, and I want to go see him. If Ashlynn is going, I want to make sure I say good-bye to Theo if I’m not going to see him again,” explained Rey, his pale blue eyes shining in the morning light. “I promise I’ll be safe and I’ll be with Ashlynn the whole time. Please, Soren.”

Soren paused and thought about it. He knew being with Ashlynn would keep him safe, but he still felt unnerved. Last night’s events rattled him, and he wanted nothing more than to refuse his brother in the name of keeping him safe.

At the same time, Rey was brave and had proven himself time and again. If there were trials to becoming a man, Rey would have surpassed any expectations with flying colors time and time again. The teen had a determined look in his eyes, and Soren knew that it was time for him to ease up and let his brother make his own decisions.

It made a lump form in Soren’s throat. He imagined what his own father would have said if he saw the man he became, and now he was able to voice that to his brothers.

“If you feel like you need to, then I don’t think I have the right to stop you,” said Soren. “As always, be safe and keep your wits about you. I’ll be here when you get back.”

There was something in Rey and Dorian’s eyes as they looked at their older brother, like an insightful confusion. Did they realize what he was saying? Or were they trying to figure it out.

Whatever the case, the decision was made.

“Well, I’ll get going. I’m going to go get the list from my dad,” chimed in Hero. “I… well… wish Theo the best from me, okay?”

“Wait,” called Rey as Hero made his way to the secure line on the sofa. “You can come with me, if you want. You can ask your dad, but… you can also meet Theo. Last time… didn’t go quite as planned.”

Hero smiled and rolled his shoulders, a thoughtful, toothless grin on his face.

“True, but there are a lot of Borrowers in need of help. I need to do my runs and help them first,” replied Hero. “Maybe I’ll get a chance to meet him one of these days. Until then, I’ll be here to help.”

The boys exchanged nods before Hero slipped off of the edge of the sofa.

For the next twenty or so minutes, Rey fixed up his gear while Soren helped Mayzie get ready for the day and Dorian sat and contemplated some lyrics. He had an idea inspired by the night before, and he wanted to make sure he had everything written down as accurately as possible.

When Ashlynn returned with all of the totes, she set them all out and gathered the supplies everyone would need to make the interior comfortable before turning to leave. Rey’s request to tag along was a bit of a surprise, but his persuasion to say good-bye was something Ashlynn felt like she couldn’t deny.

Promising she would take care of the teenage Borrower boy, the two of them left.

Ashlynn felt a little odd bringing Rey, not Soren, along with her. She knew the teenage boy would listen and pay attention to his surroundings so he wouldn’t be seen, but it didn’t stop her little touch of anxiety as she walked to her car and drove down to the hospital.

Just as the officer told her, she was able to get the necessary pictures and a quick check-up to make sure nothing else was damaged because of her confrontation with Austin the night before.

“You’ll experience some swelling, and it will take some time for the bruises to go away, but that’s only natural. Here’s some topical medication to help with the bruises, and here’s some ointment to help with the swelling. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to let us know. We’ll make sure your photos get to the police department as soon as possible as well as your attorney when you provide that information,” said the doctor.

“Actually,” said Ashlynn as she glanced over at her purse. When she was waiting, Rey took a second to slip out of her purse and glanced around at all of the machines and cabinets. Now that she was with the doctor, she could barely see the teenage Borrower peering out from behind her wallet as he watched them. “I have a friend who is actually staying here in the hospital. Would it be possible to see if he’s still here or if he was discharged?”

“Sure. What’s his name?” asked the doctor.

“Theodore Wilkins,” said Ashlynn. “I’ve been meaning to come and visit him.”

“Ah, yes,” acknowledged the doctor. “His sister was brought here earlier for a visit. He’s up in room five seventy-two. Make sure to get a visitor’s badge and you’ll be able to see him for a little while. He’s got physical therapy in about thirty minutes.”

“Great, thank you,” Ashlynn said as she snagged her purse and headed to the front desk. She knew Rey must have questions, and Theo would have even more of them, but she had to be quick. They needed to get back.

She filled out the proper paperwork, saying she was a family friend, before she was given a pass and allowed up the elevator to the right floor.

In no time, they were there.

“Let’s go,” Ashlynn breathed before knocking lightly on the slightly ajar door. “Hello? Anyone home?”

“Hello?” replied a voice. Rey was absolutely certain that it was Theo’s voice. Excitement filled him as he felt the bag shift and heard the door click. “Oh… um… sorry, but I think you might have the wrong room.”

“You’re Theo, right?” asked Ashlynn. Rey felt himself getting jittery. How was Theo doing? He hadn’t been able to talk to him after he arrived here at the hospital.

“Um… yeah, but…”

“Then I’m in the right room,” said Ashlynn. “We have a friend in common, I think. You know Rey, right?” Rey heard the door shut behind them and saw Ashlynn’s hand rest parallel to the top of her purse.

It was his cue.

Rey pushed himself up using Ashlynn’s wallet and snagged the top of the purse. He lifted himself out onto Ashlynn’s hand. Sure enough, there was Theo. He was sitting up in bed and his eyes were wide with surprise. He had his blanket over his legs and thankfully was only hooked up to a heart monitoring machine.

“Rey?!” said Theo in absolute disbelief. He pushed himself up further in the bed and glanced from between Ashlynn to Rey. “Wait, you’re Ashlynn, right? The woman who helped get in contact with the family friends who are looking after Bells.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” smiled Ashlynn. “I happened to be in the area and Rey here said he wanted to see you. I can’t necessarily leave, but I’m just going to be over here looking out the window while you two have a little chat. Okay?”

With that, Ashlynn stepped closer to the bed and gently set the back of her hand against the sheets. Rey noticed the closer they got that something looked a bit off in the way Theo looked. He was a little bit paler, sure, but something just didn’t seem right. Rey looked across the sheets and saw how the blankets were arranged.

“Rey! It’s so good to see you, man,” said Theo as he readjusted again and stared down at Rey. The Borrower teen decided he would just ask Theo about it later. It was probably a trick of the eyes anyway.

“Same to you. How are you feeling? What actually happened after they took you? What were you sick with?” asked Rey.

“Oh, that.” Something in Theo’s tone changed subtly as he looked between Rey and where his blankets were bundled up. “Well, the doctors told me it was sepsis. Apparently when dad got angry and started throwing those nasty bottles at my wheelchair, I got cut pretty badly by the broken glass. Since I don’t really have feeling in my legs, I didn’t really notice anything except for the cuts.

“I got that all cleaned up, but it was more serious than I thought. The infection spread into a whole blood thing and… well… they ended up having to… well….” Theo pulled down the blankets to reveal the bandages on his legs and how they abruptly ended at his knees. Rey looked in shock at the sight.

“What… what happened?” he asked as he looked up at his friend.

“Amputated. It makes sense since I can’t use them, but it’s still a shock,” muttered Theo. “I have physical therapy which actually seems to be helping. Whatever they did during the operation apparently stimulated something in my spine and now… well… watch this.”

Theo concentrated and his leg lifted ever so slightly. He breathed deeply and did it once again, and this time it was a little higher.

“Woah, that’s great!” breathed Rey. “So, you might actually be able to walk again?”

“Maybe,” smiled Theo. “It’s a huge motivator at least. Also, making sure Bells is taken care of. Now that I’m eighteen, I have full custody over her. Dad’s furious, but thankfully my friends were able to go and snag my stuff from the apartment before he had the chance to throw it all away.”

“That’s a relief, especially for your business and stuff. Your inventions were in there,” Rey stated.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” sighed Theo. “The only thing now is finding a place to live with decent rent and easy access for my wheelchair while I do this whole physical therapy thing.”

Rey couldn’t believe it. Theo was finally out of that house, but now he had nowhere to go.

“Anyway, what’s new with you?” asked Theo. “How have you all been? Any new inventions you need to bounce around?”

“Well, you’re not going to believe this,” said Rey. He then told Theo about the events of last night. He told him about how the community was found and how Austin had found them. He told him about how Ashlynn managed to fight off Austin and how they were all currently in the process of moving out of the apartment complex and into a home – a real home.

“You’ve got to be excited!” grinned Theo. “Seriously, that’s exciting for you. Hey, maybe, if Ashlynn says it’s okay, we could come and visit you. I mean, Bells wouldn’t need to see you, but I could… maybe.”

Then, right then, Rey had an idea. He had kept his apprehensions and desires to stay for the sake of his friends a secret up until that point, telling only Hero that he felt like staying. Now that the community was moving and Hero was coming with them, why couldn’t Theo do the same thing?

Spinning on his heel, he whipped around to see Ashlynn looking out the window.

“Ashlynn! Can I ask you something really quick?” shouted Rey. “I just had an idea. Please?”

Ashlynn, who was enjoying the sunshine and the view, looked at the Borrower teen curiously and approached, kneeling to better see Rey.

“What is it?” she asked. Then, in a lower voice, Rey brought his sudden idea.

“Ashlynn, I just had a thought. Do… well… do you think Theo could come and live with us?” asked Rey quietly so that Theo, who was sitting nearby, couldn’t really hear. Ashlynn’s brows furrowed in concern as she glanced at the young adult boy and then back to her small companion.

“Rey…”

“Ashlynn, he needs a place to live. He knows the secret and can just live downstairs in the basement. It has that wheelchair ramp, and no one would have to know about us Borrowers. We can live in the attic and on the main floor,” argued Rey. “Just, think about it? Theo is my friend, and he is a good guy. Plus, he’s an inventor. He’s going to start up his business and it would be a great place for us to work together. We could be partners making things for Borrowers.”

Ashlynn glanced at Theo and then back to Rey. Theo stared at them curiously, but didn’t dare interrupt. Something about Rey’s plea seemed to resonate with Ashlynn. Memories of needing a home flashed through her mind before she was back looking at Rey.

“Theo? You told Rey you needed a place to live. How about you and I exchange numbers and talk about some options, yeah?” asked Ashlynn. The boys exchanged excited glances and Theo nodded.

“Y-yeah, absolutely. Do you know of a place? Are you subletting your apartment? I promise I can pay my own way,” said Theo.

“Like I said, let’s talk about options,” restated Ashlynn as she gave Rey a subtle bump on his shoulder with her index finger. As Ashlynn scribbled down her number and Theo wrote down his, they all nearly jumped out of their skin as there was a knock at the door before it swung open.

Rey, thinking fast, leapt into Ashlynn’s purse which was on her hip as the nurse came in.

“Sorry, but we have to take Mr. Wilkins. Visiting hours resume first thing tomorrow morning,” said the nurse.

“Sure thing. Well, Theo, we’ll be in touch,” said Ashlynn as she glanced down at Rey, who gave her a thumbs-up, before the two of them headed out of the room.

“Talk to you soon!” Theo called as Ashlynn and Rey departed.

The drive back was filled with discussion about whether or not Theo should be invited to live with Ashlynn and the whole Borrower community. Rey put up a fair argument that the basement could be segmented off and that Theo and Bella, his little sister, wouldn’t need to be in contact with the rest of the family. It would give them a variety of borrowings and it would let Rey have an inventive friend nearby.

Ashlynn wanted to help Rey’s friend, but she ultimately ended up compromising in that the community would also have to agree or, at the very least, be informed before they let someone new into their inner circle.

It was the least that could be done.

With that agreement, Rey decided he would be the one to take it to the others in the community, letting them know another human who knew about Borrower existence would be staying with them.

At least, he would let them know after the move. There was a lot to consider, and now was not the time for this discussion.

When they arrived home, Ashlynn knocked and gave the Borrowers inside plenty of time to hide or get back under cover. When she and Rey entered, however, she found that wasn’t the case. Many of them did hide, but some stayed and were still working as they fixed the boxes in preparation for their move.

It was an odd sensation, seeing other Borrowers out and about in her apartment, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

It was a demonstration of trust and the beginning of a new union between the Borrower community and humans.

~~~^*^*^~~~

When evening came, many of the Borrowers were already settled inside Ashlynn’s room. Ashlynn once again was resigned to the couch, but that was going to be alright. The next day, moving began.

Hero and the other Rafters spread the word that the Borrowers were going to move into the home first. It would give them time to settle in and claim different areas of the house. Based on their discussions, the Borrowers would most likely take the attic so they would have easy access to the roof and the doors and panels that were loose that Soren and his brothers found when they were visiting the house.

All in the home slipped into a deep, uninterrupted sleep; everyone, that is, except for Soren.

After the recent events, he knew he needed to do it. It was nerve wracking, but he knew what Ashlynn would say.

The original plan was far more elegant, but this new plan hatched in the darkness of twilight was more him – more them.

The next morning was the big day. Borrower families carefully and quietly filed into the boxes which were disguised from the outside with clothes Ashlynn wasn’t wearing or bits of paper and books that wouldn’t shift around.

“I’ll make sure to move slowly and give a warning before I lift the boxes or anything. It’s not that far, okay?” said Ashlynn as she looked at the totes in front of her door. She knew she was talking to the Borrowers inside, but it still felt odd talking out loud to what looked like five long boxes of clothes and supplies.

Ashlynn went over the checklist in her head once again. Keys. Wallet. Phone. New house keys. Bag of supplies to help everyone get started. Food. Building materials. Last thing was to check and make sure the boys and Mayzie were tucked away in the crates or her bag and they would be ready to go.

Ashlynn looked over and saw both Dorian and Rey resting on the edge of her purse which was on the table. The only two faces she didn’t see were Soren and Mayzie, but it wasn’t hard to figure out where they were.

Soren was standing on the coffee table next to the couch with Mayzie, a thoughtful smile on his face as he held his daughter.

“Hey, ready to go?” asked Ashlynn as she walked over and knelt, offering her hand for Soren to step on.

“Actually, Mayzie is about ready for her nap. If she doesn’t sleep, she’s going to get cranky. I might just hang back and let you all go,” said Soren. Ashlynn glanced over at Mayzie, who was indeed drooping over his shoulder. Still, Ashlynn was a little confused. Mayzie wasn’t usually cranky and was very good at sleeping anywhere at any time. Moving into this apartment last time wasn’t an ordeal, so why would now be?

Ashlynn sighed, knowing Soren probably had his reasons and just wanted some alone time, and gave him a thoughtful tap on his shoulder.

“Well, get some rest in yourself. You look a bit tired,” said Ashlynn.

“Speak for yourself,” Soren teased right back. Ashlynn knew she had to look like a wreck with her bruises.

“Ha ha Mr. Beauty Sleeper. We’ll see you when we get back then,” said Ashlynn. She leaned down and gave Soren a kiss before snagging her purse, Rey and Dorian slipping into position, before Ashlynn carefully moved the long, thin boxes out of her apartment.

The moment the door locked and Soren heard Ashlynn walking away, he moved quickly. He knew everything always took more time than what was anticipated, and he needed to make this as perfect as he could.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Ashlynn’s delivery went off without a hitch. Sure, there was a bit of unnerved silence from the back seat as she drove and made conversation with Dorian and Rey, but it dissipated once they were inside Ashlynn’s new home.

She set out all of the boxes and made sure the curtains were up before giving the knock signal to show the Borrowers they were alright.

“Okay, I plan on being back tomorrow afternoon for lunch and to bring over some more things. Take a look around and enjoy the place. I will ask that you don’t use any open flames. I have hand warmers, bread, cheese, and other sandwich making material. There are other materials like fabric for blankets, blades, and pins as well as flashlights and batteries. Enjoy your evening and I’ll be back tomorrow. Thanks,” said Ashlynn as she departed.

When she made it back in her car, she glanced down at Dorian and Rey who had poked their heads out of her purse. The two of them had been instrumental in getting everyone settled, and they looked reassuringly at Ashlynn.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be alright. We Borrowers aren’t prone to setting fires without the utmost caution. If anyone does start a fire, they won’t set your place on fire,” said Dorian. Ashlynn sighed and looked up at the ceiling of her car.

“Easy for you to say. At the very least, I hope insurance will cover anything if it happens,” muttered Ashlynn, who knew she would be on the hook if anything were to go awry with the place they were about to call home.

On the drive back, Rey asked about insurance and what it actually was. Ashlynn had a bit of a trick trying to explain what it was and what it was supposed to do, but she thought she did a good enough job in the end.

They pulled into the parking garage and, with the boys secure, pulled her purse over her shoulder and headed back into the building. The apartment complex was aglow with the light of the setting sun. It was promising to be a beautiful sunset, and it was almost a shame to go inside instead of stopping and watching the sunset.

Ashlynn decided she’d watch it once she brought the boys inside so they could fill in Soren. Next task was making her bed back and then getting dinner started before packing.

The list of things to do was running rampant in Ashlynn’s head, and it continued to do so all the way up the elevator and into her apartment.

Ashlynn walked two steps into her home, carefully setting her purse down so Rey and Dorian could climb out, when she noticed something on the main table.

It was a lit candle, and next to the candle was Soren. He was wearing something different than before. It wasn’t his usual brown pants and green shirt outfit. Instead, it was a white shirt and what looked like dark navy pants.

How long had Soren been working on this?

Ashlynn glanced around and noticed Mayzie was asleep on the nearby couch, but Soren looked presentable. Even his hair was slicked back.

“Soren? What’s up? Decide to get spiffy tonight?” asked Ashlynn. From her purse, she heard two faint giggles, and that’s when she knew the two Borrower teens had an idea of what was going on.

“Ashlynn, I… you look lovely tonight,” he said. His eyes were shining with adoration.

Curiously and cautiously, Ashlynn approached the table and knelt.

“Soren, what is all of this about?” Ashlynn asked as she placed her hand on the table. Soren, obviously nervous, stepped forward. His heart was pounding a million miles a minute, but something was keeping him motivated. He wasn’t shying away from whatever it was that he was nervous about.

“Ashlynn, I… I don’t think I ever told you how much you mean to me. From the moment we met to now, I don’t think I ever say enough how wonderful you really are,” said Soren. He looked down and then looked back up into Ashlynn’s blue-gray eyes. “I know we had a rough start, and everything after that has been a whirlwind adventure, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

“When you told me how you felt, when you thought I was asleep or that I couldn’t hear you, I didn’t think I could be that happy again. I thought my heart was full once, and that the damage it endured would leave me part of what I was; but, when you came back, that all changed,” said Soren. Ashlynn’s eyes widened as she watched Soren step away back behind the candle and bring out something wrapped in tissue paper.

“Soren,” Ashlynn breathed.

“It’s different, but so are we and everything else we’ve done together – and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Taking the next steps forward, I… I want to do that with you…”

Soren kneeled and held out the circular tissue wrapped object. Absolutely choked on emotion, Ashlynn dared to reach forward to pinch the object and lift it from Soren’s hands. He kept his eyes averted and, to her, looked like a kneeling knight.

That’s what he was to her. A knight in shining armor who saved her in more ways than one.

Fingers trembling, Ashlynn unwrapped the object and gasped softly as a beautiful ring was revealed.

“Soren.” Ashlynn was at a complete loss of words. Everything in her was buzzing, electrified with the energy of the moment.

“Ashlynn, would you marry me?”

Speed couldn’t comprehend how quickly Ashlynn moved as she leaned forward and tackled Soren, kissing him as she pressed him into her cupped palm which was instantaneously right behind him. They remained unparted for countless moments before Ashlynn pulled away, tears of joy streaming down her face.

“Yes! Absolutely, yes,” she said over and over as she carefully maneuvered the ring onto her finger while keeping Soren cupped in her hand. She lifted Soren up and the two of them touched foreheads, Soren tilting his head back ever so slightly to kiss her, before letting it all sink in.

It was official – they chose to be bound forever.

The evening was blissful and filled with discussions and dreams of the future. Rey and Dorian, grinning from ear to ear, gave Soren and Ashlynn the night off from watching Mayzie as they decided to watch movies after dinner. Whatever the future was going to bring, they knew they could do it together. The sun would rise on them tomorrow, and with it a new future.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

::_____::

A Tall and Small Collection

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A Tall and Small Collection | Soren

ASK ME ANYTHING

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Everyone Needs a Little Hero

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Beginning

Prompt

ASK ME ANYTHING

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