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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 3 years

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The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 1

Author’s Note: Had this idea living in my head rent free so hopefully I don’t butcher it.

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language

Part 1 , Part 2

“So, where are we going again?” Bucky asked Sam, confusion written on his face as he leaned back in the front passenger seat of the car.

“You’ll find out. We’ll be there soon.” Sam answered, his eyes glued to the road and hands gripping the wheel.

“But we’ve been driving in the middle of nowhere for an hour now.” Bucky fussed while staring at the never ending green grass that passed by, clearly irritated with Sam’s lack of details.

“I too would like to know where we are going.” Zemo spoke up only to add to Sam’s annoyance.

“YOU don’t get to ask questions.” Sam glared at Zemo through the rear view mirror before staring back at the road. He was starting to get fed up with their questions and lack of patience.

The three men had been driving with their windows down for what felt like hours through the Scottish countryside, watching the green highlands pass by. Though they admired the beauty of the landscape, they were extremely anxious to stretch their legs and get to their unknown destination. Not to mention, they were starting to get a little hungry as well.

“Are we there yet?” Bucky broke the silence after some time.

“We get there when we get there.” Sam snapped, his knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel a bit too hard. He was really looking forward to getting out of the car and away from those two.

After a short while they neared a small seaside village. The place was not that busy, save for the few locals and fishermen going about the cloudy day.

Sam drove on a little further before finally reaching a quaint stone cottage that sat on a hill at the edge of town, overlooking the ocean. He pulled up next to the 60s convertible cream colored Volkswagen Beetle that had a surfboard tied on the roof, parked next to the cottage. Sam took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out, stretching his legs as the others followed suit.

Sam smiled to himself as he walked up the path leading to the front door and glanced upon the flower garden and the decorations out front. He knew for sure this was your place. The other two quietly followed behind while looking around the residence, from the neatly kept garden and the vines that crawled along the house, to the fishing equipment hung up on the side, down to the handmade birdhouses and the wind chimes and sun-catchers that clinked melodically against the ocean breeze, including the collection of garden gnomes. The place reminded the men something straight out of Jane Austen’s novels, not that they’d like to admit they knew such a thing.

Sam stopped at the front door before turning to the others with a pointed finger. “Now whatever you do, don’t stare.”

“Wait what?” Bucky scrunched his nose.

“Just don’t.”

Sam paused for a moment, thinking of how to explain this situation to you before tapping on the wooden door. No answer. Sam could feel Bucky glaring at the back of his head, ready to scold him about how this was a big waste of time. So he knocked again, this time calling out if any one was home.

Before Bucky could open his mouth there was rustling coming from inside and the sound of someone knocking into furniture before a faint “ow” and “fuck” of a woman’s voice made Bucky and Zemo glance questioningly at each other. Where the hell did Sam lead them to?

The locks on the door were fumbled with before opening up to reveal your head poking out from behind.

“Sam?” You breathed out. You were slightly out of breath and your hair was disheveled with strands falling out of your bun at the front from under your silk scarf. The sleeves of your button up blouse were rolled up at your elbows, revealing your dirt covered arms. You were working on your vegetable garden in the back before you were interrupted by your unexpected visitors.

Bucky stood behind Sam and couldn’t help but widen his eyes when he saw you. He only met you a few times during the threat of Thanos and before, but the interactions he had with you were very brief. All he knew was that you were a good friend of the Avengers, especially Thor, Clint, Nat, Wanda, Tony and Steve and now apparently Sam. But after Thanos was defeated you disappeared and nothing was heard of you since.

Zemo glanced out from behind Bucky and tried to remain hidden behind the super soldier once he recognized your face. You weren’t exactly an Avenger and you weren’t on Earth when he tore the Avengers apart, you were helping Thor at the time and little to everyone’s knowledge, you were also defending your planet against an inside threat. But you had heard of him through your friends, and though you hadn’t met him, Zemo knew you would strangle him once you spotted him.

“Hey y/n.” Sam smiled at you, calling you by your alias name. He knew who you were through Steve, but even then, he didn’t know everything about you and about the recent events that took place in your home planet that still devastated you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked with a mixture of surprise and annoyance, wiping your hands on your apron. There was a reason you chose to live all the way out here, and though you gave Sam your new address, you didn’t expect him to bring company.

“I came to see how you were doing?”

“Bullshit.” You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you wanted to check up on me you wouldn’t have brought someone.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, refused to meet your stern eyes and looking down at the ground instead with his hands in his pockets. He often forgot how well you were able to read people, almost as if you were telepathic. Little to his knowing, you were in fact a telepath but decided against telling him. You’ve known people who became uncomfortable when finding that detail about you and noticed how they tried to avoid you, constantly guarding their thoughts when around. If only they knew you never bothered to do such a thing because you respected their privacy and because you’ve seen things in people’s heads you wished to forget. You’ve only ever used your telepathy when it was absolutely necessary. Straightening up, you finally took a better look at the other man behind him and instantly recognized him as Bucky.

“Barnes?”

“Hi y/n.” Bucky smiled shyly at you as he looked into your eyes. And that’s when he noticed for the first time that your eyes were different from when he last saw you. Your irises were now a shade of purples and blues with flecks of gold that spread out, a reflection of the stars and the universe. So that’s what Sam meant when he said to not stare. But could you have just been wearing contacts? Bucky’s stare was cut short as Sam noticed, glaring at him and clearing his throat before elbowing him in the stomach.

Suddenly, there came the sound of a little girls squeals coming from inside your home, startling the men except for Sam. And before they knew it, a small girl in overalls who looked to be of 6 years of age sprinted through your legs and out the door. “Uncle Sam!”

“Oof! Athena wait!” You gasped against the impact as you tried to reach for her.

“Hey hey little Athena!” Sam smiled as he picked the excited girl up into his arms before setting her on his hip. “How’s my favorite little warrior?”

“I’m helping Mommy with the garden! See!” She squealed in delight before showing off her dirty hands.

“I can see that.” Sam chuckled. “Looks like you’ve been working hard.”

“God, I’m so sorry Sam. She’s covered in dirt.” You tried to apologize with an embarrassed face.

“Hey no worries.” Sam smiled at you. “Some dirt is not gonna kill me.”

“Mommy who’s this?” Athena questioned as she looked at the man next to Sam.

You looked at Bucky and gave him a look that questioned what name he would prefer, to which he nodded and mouthed Bucky to you.

“That’s Bucky sweetie.”

“Hi Bucky! I’m Athena!” She stuck her tiny hand out to for him to shake, a big grin plastered on her face from meeting new people.

“It’s very nice to meet you Athena.” Bucky smiled as he gently shook her hand, making her giggle.

The scene made you smile to yourself as you pushed a strand of your hair behind your ears. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Sam and Bucky decided to pay a visit.

“Mommy who’s the man in the back?”

The man in the back? You looked to Sam and James with a raised brow before craning your neck to see who the third guest could be, only to tense up and clutch the door frame, forcing yourself to not go over there right now and throw him off a cliff.

“What the hell is he doing here?” You glared daggers at Zemo as he watched you with caution, before you turned to Sam.

“I can explain.” Sam tightened his jaw as he saw your expression.

“Athena, sweetie.” You turned to your daughter with a gentle smile. “I want you to go up to your room and clean up okay?”

“Okay mommy.” Athena looked back at you with a worried look as Sam set her down.

You caressed her head as she walked in, watching her go up the stairs and waiting for the sound of her bedroom door to close and her shower to turn on before shutting the front door behind you.

“Are you out of your goddamn minds?” You glared at the two, trying to not yell, your fists balling up in anger. “What in the three hells is going on?”

“Look y/n. He might be of some use.” Sam tried to explain.

“So you broke him out of prison?!”

“Well technically he got himself out.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. He was starting to think that this wasn’t such a good idea and felt guilty for coming here.

“Oh? So what? He magically decides to join your little boy band? The Wakandans are after his ass in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Look I get it. Working with Zemo sounds like a terrible idea and you have every right to be upset. We just need a place to lay low for now. Just...hear us out.” Sam responded with a pleading look.

You stood there with a hand on your hip, squeezing your eyes shut while you pinched the bridge of your nose, not even caring that you still had dirt on your hands.

“Please y/n.” Bucky spoke up, making you look up at him. “Sam wouldn’t come here if he didn’t know what he was doing.”

You looked between the two, rubbing your chin in contemplation as you thought everything over. Bucky was right. Sam would never try to purposely put you in harm’s way.

“Fine.” You breathed out. “You can stay for the night. But you are going to tell me everything. Every last detail.”

“I promise.” Sam looked to you as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Well come on then. Get in.” You nodded your head towards the door as you opened it, letting Bucky and Sam in before putting yourself in front of Zemo and blocking him with a threatening look while speaking in a cold tone. “I swear to the gods, if you so much as try anything, I will bury you alive in my backyard and use you as fertilizer to grow fungi.”

“Y/n what the fuck.” You heard Sam utter from inside.

Zemo gave you a bewildered look and decided to keep quiet as you stepped aside to let him in, watching him closely as he went in. You stuck your head outside again, looking around for any bystanders and making sure the men were preoccupied before muttering something in Ancient Greek, waving your hand around and moving your fingers in specific gestures as a clear glass like film covered the area around your home for protection. You did another once over before going back in and closing the front door, readying yourself for the conversation you would have with Sam and Bucky.

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dancingwiththeplanets · 3 years

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An Angel Amongst Demons - chapter two

Boba Fett x fem!reader

chapter 1 / masterlist

Summary: A few days after the incident in the throne room, Boba hovers around you like a shadow worried you’ll leave him. You try to reassure him through small, intimate moments with him that there’s no place you’d rather be.

A/N: Really trying to expand on the idea that a gorgeous palace lays hidden underground/ behind the throne room! Also, I think we can all start calling this Boba’s Palace now, jabba is gone. Sorry for the low quality edit it’s my first one haha

Warnings: dancing!boba, protective!boba, suggestive content, plain old day at the palace, soft!boba, not a lot of content tbh but cute moments and we get to know our OC Mandos Raul and Enzo, I didn’t plan this out, im sorry

Word Count: 4.5k+

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The ballroom, though practically useless in its existence and never actually having served its purpose, has recently become one of your favorite rooms in the palace. Initially, you didn’t know what to do with the space. It’s not like Boba seized at the idea of throwing a ball and inviting a group of strangers into the palace, providing anyone the opportunity to discover the secrets hidden behind the throne room. Let alone risk letting an adversary sneak their way in and stirring up trouble.

Nonetheless, you’ve taken it upon yourself to spruce the place up. It is, after all, one of the grander rooms in the castle, with paintings coating the ceiling and the walls bordered with columns.

It’s actually extremely beautiful, you’ve decided, wiping your forehead against your light-blue sleeve, frowning when it comes back brown from the dust that’s stuck to your face. It seemed like a sensible thing to wear this morning. A loose fitting blue blouse with flowy pants to match, secured in the middle by a slightly darker sash. Your pant legs were tucked into your boots so as not to get in the way. It was one of the more cozy and plain things you owned, though not poor in quality by any standards. The fabric was refined, flowy and soft against your skin. Quite honestly, even in your working clothes, you looked nicer than you felt you deserved to. But far be it for Boba to allow his princess to wander around in anything but the best.

The week you’d moved in was a busy one, filled with surprises and adjustments that were quite honestly overwhelming. You arrived at Boba’s palace with a literal sack over your shoulder, enough to stash your small wardrobe of two garments and a few trinkets of personal value. Tatooine was a simple place, you only owned what you absolutely needed. And you, being a young and simple waitress at the local cantina, could barely make enough to cover your cost of living. You were never awarded the luxury of having needless objects.

The first few days of your arrival, Boba had stuck to your side like glue, making sure you got around okay and had everything you needed. Initially, he’d even had a seperate room made up for you to stay in. It was absolutely beautiful, by far the lightest room in the entire palace, though lacking in a window. It was one of the biggest, not as impressive as his own chambers, but still spacious. He decorated the room with paintings and furniture and accented the space with hues of blue and gold. Unfortunately, the pretty room barely got any good use out of it.

Boba escorted you to your quarters on your first night, cradling your chin and kissing your forehead at the door, bidding you goodnight. He reminded you where you could find something to sleep in, having delighted himself in surprising you with an entirely new wardrobe.

You pulled on a satin, lavender slip, admiring the foreign material for a long while as it weighed so delicately on your form. You took your time readying yourself for bed before crawling in and feeling engulfed by pillows. Once you settled, left alone to your anxious thoughts and feelings, you suddenly felt overwhelmed by the exquisite room embracing you. A flutter of giddiness and exhilaration filled you, your mind and body enraptured by the day's events. You felt absolutely spoiled.

Feeling bold on an entirely unnatural level, you slipped away from the warm, velvety comforter and tiptoed to the door. With a rush of courage, your hand met the handle and you stepped out, bare feet cold against the tile floor. You peeked around before quickly darting down the hall, forever grateful that not a soul was around to see your practically naked form running by, before ascending the stairs that led to Boba’s door.

You lifted your hand, your knuckle knocking gently three times against the rough surface.

You heard Boba shifting on the other side of the door, tugging down on your nightgown that just barely cleared your thighs. The hinges of the door creaked as they turned, opening slowly to reveal a very smug looking Boba in just his underclothes.

He hummed, eyes tracing over your form with a shake of his head. “Wandering the halls looking like that.” He chided, gently grabbing you by the waist and pulling you through the door, “That’ll get you into trouble, little one.”

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You smile as you recall the memory. Suffice to say, you didn’t end up sleeping in your own quarters that night, or any night after that, for that matter. Though Boba’s honorable gesture in providing you with your own space was not lost on you.

Continuing on with your endeavors, you move to stand from your crouch on the ground, simultaneously trying to tighten the blue sash wrapped around your middle. You gasp as you run into a hard surface, exhaling in relief as Boba braces you in front of him.

Mumbling an apology, you watch as his helmeted face looks you up and down, steady hands holding you out from him.

“What?” You ask, a smile making its way to your cheeks.

“Your outfit, it...looks like something I wore as I boy.” He says adoringly, now fondling the blue sash at your hips.

You glance down again at your form, a matching blue blouse and trousers tucked into simple black boots. “I...look like you as a young boy?” You counter, earning a deep chuckle from your lover.

“Well I looked rather plain in it,” He says, “I don’t think I looked half as radiant as you do.”

“So you do like it?” You ask.

“Of course I like it,” He grins, “I bought it.”

You shake your head as you carry on with your tasks, allowing Boba to shadow your movements for a while before leaving you again to carry on with his own agenda.

You spend the next few hours actively scrubbing away at the room, feeling especially motivated to complete it, not like all the other half-finished rooms scattered about the palace, which is partly your fault. But the ballroom felt different, once you dusted away all the grime and filth and replaced the lighting in the ceilings to give the room more life, it really started to come together. Unfortunately, your previously clean clothes and skin were paying the price for the hard work being done, you definitely looked a little worse for wear. Wisps of hair beginning to tickle your cheeks from where they’d fallen loose from your braid.

Currently, you were taking extra care to polish a beautiful mosaic decorating the inside of an archway. Thousands of small, colorful shards lined neatly together to form the image of a bold Tatooine sunset. One of the few grand beauties your home planet was known for. A surprisingly lovely work of art left behind, albeit not properly cared for, by the previous inhabitants of the palace.

You admire the artwork for a while after polishing it to near perfection, letting your bum fall to the floor and legs splay out comfortably in front of you. Your wrists support your upper body, arms holding you up as you lean back onto them, head tilting lazily to one side.

You find yourself distracted from your glossed over gaze by Boba, who seems to have wandered his way in here for the third time today. Enzo tails him a few paces behind, but stops to stand guard idly by the door. You can’t imagine he or Raul feel as though they serve any real purpose wandering these empty halls, probably much preferring when they get to patrol the throne room or secure the perimeter.

Boba approaches you, pausing over your fatigued form and huffing out a laugh when you don’t move to stand, instead opting to gaze up at him with tired, doe eyes. He holds a hand out to you and you groan, placing your palm in his as he hoists you up.

“The room looks lovely.” He says, voice raspy through the modulator as he looks around.

The praise makes you smile. “Come see what I found,” You say, leading him by the hand. You open a large dresser to the right, stuffed full of old vinyls and a polished record player sitting proudly atop. You carefully choose a record, placing it beneath the needle and starting the track, allowing it to play soothingly in the background as you guide him around the rest of the room.

He follows you around, listening to you babble about the lovely art on the ceiling and how nice the light looks coming through the one, boxy window at the top. He watches the childlike sparkle and admiration in your eyes as you point out different things you’ve noticed, the excitement trickling out in your tone.

His mind contemplates how different this life is from the one you used to have. You went from a one room, compact home, just barely big enough for your small bed, to a palace filled with grand staircases, hallways and countless bedrooms, a blissful dream in your eyes. Nevermind the fact that you were still stuck on Tatooine. In fact, you seemed happy to stay, oddly attached to the sandy planet, something Boba found amusing.

A couple trips around the room later, and a few songs having gone by, the two of you now stand in the center of the empty room. Him, groaning in protest, and you, placing his hand on your waist yet again. You’ve spent the last few minutes trying to teach him a basic waltz, something your father had taught you when you were little. A rare memory you shared with him before he...well-

“Boba,” You scold with a giggle, “Try again.” Your request earns you another frustrated grumble from your partner. At some point you were able to coerce him into dancing with you, having pleaded desperately when your favorite classic came on. “C’mon, you nearly had it that time!”

He sighs loudly, tilting his helmet in an exasperated fashion. “Last time,” He says with finality, his finger raised in your direction.

You nod your head, an amused grin spread wide on your face.

He holds tight to your waist and reaches for your other hand, a final effort to humor you.

“And...1, 2, 3...1, 2, 3..” You begin moving again to the music, trying to swallow the snicker working its way up at the image of your armored partner staring at your feet for guidance. Visor following your every move, looking unsure and sloppy and quite honestly graceless.

You jump at the voice of a forgotten presence in the room.

“No! No, no, no, boss.” Enzo finally pipes up, his silent and judgemental self unable to be contained any longer. He moves forward with a swagger in his step as he struts towards you from his previous position against the wall, “You’ve gotta lead her by the waist,” He says pointedly, reaching for you “Observe-”

Boba’s arm shoots out, blocking Enzo by the pauldron, “You touch her, you're a dead man.” He growls, deflecting his attempt to take you by the waist.

You jerk slightly at the interaction, rolling your eyes and waiting for the show of dominance to subside.

Enzo’s hands raise in surrender, bowing away respectfully before returning to his earlier stance, no doubt a grin slapped on beneath his visor.

Boba’s hand returns to your waist with a shake of his head, noting your half-suppressed chuckle, evidently amused by the encounter.

“Alright,” He grunts, “once more.”

You start counting aloud, moving at a pace Boba can keep up with. You step out on the final eight count and slowly twirl back into his arms, your back now braced against his front. He tugs at your hips, holding you closer, “Mm,” He hums in your ear as you sway in your position, “Well I do like this.”

The sound of his accented voice filtering through the modulator sends a shiver down your spine, and you breathe out a light exhale as he releases you a moment later, turning you to face him.

“See,” You sigh, “You can dance.”

He hums in response, turning around to retrieve his weapon.

You move to face your hired gun, again leaning casually against the entryway.

“Do you actually know how to dance, Enzo?” You ask, reflecting on his earlier attempt at an intervention.

“-Wouldn’t matter if he did.” Boba interjects loudly over his shoulder, dismissing any ideas before they transpired.

You hear a light chuckle emitting through Enzo’s modulator, turning back to see his stance remaining motionless aside from the slight jerk in his shoulders.

Boba returns to your side, tapping his forehead against yours in an obvious farewell.

Your head falls heavily to one side as you tenderly hold one of his gloved hands, fingers tracing the rough fabric of his own. “Is that all the time you’ve allotted for me today, my king?” You say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips.

“Duty calls, I’m afraid.” He replies, “But perhaps I’ll come find you in a bit, see what further progress you’ve made.”

You nod, a slight frown tugging on your lips. You hesitate raising the concern suddenly weighing in your mind.

Ever since the incident with Crane occurred, Boba’s been...watchful. It’s not that he wasn’t protective of you before, it’s just that in the past few days he’s been protective of you in an entirely different way. He’s been hovering and checking in on you almost compulsively. Whereas before he seemed to want to keep you away during the busy hours of his day, now he seemed to want you near enough to reach in a moment's notice. Almost as if he’s worried you’ll abandon him when he’s not looking.

You wonder how he can still feel so worried after sharing such a fun and intimate moment with you.

So, you’ve given him some extra leeway, allowing him to hover to his heart's content until he seems secure in knowing that you’re not going anywhere.

That being said, you really didn’t mind Boba’s loitering close by to wherever you happened to be, you only wish you knew he wasn’t doing it because of the events that conspired earlier in the week.

“Boba,” You say lightly, catching his arm as he turns. “You don’t need to keep checking up on me, I’m not...you know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

He pauses at your words, hands stilling in their endeavor to tighten up loosened pieces of clothing and armor. You hope you haven't upset him in calling out his unusual conduct.

He averts his gaze to the side, pausing a moment before turning back to you. “I know.” He says nodding, a slight hint of defeat in his tone.

You hope perhaps some flattery will comfort him, stepping closer and lifting your gaze to meet his own. “My king,” you say in admiration, “You are a very busy man. You have a planet to rule. And an underworld to dominate. There are many things that I know put strain and worry in your mind, but whether or not your partner will still be here when you go looking for her should not be one of them.”

He doesn’t make any movements, and the face of his visor does little to allow you access to his thoughts.

“What I mean to say is,” You continue, “Go rule your empire. Your princess is safely stashed away in the palace you’ve encompassed her in.”

He breathes out a chuckle, and you smile, “I am happier here with you than I ever thought I’d be. I don’t want to be anywhere you won't be too, Boba Fett.” You reiterate your words from your conversation a few days ago. One that both started and ended with the two of you in tears. A rare moment between the two of you indeed. An exceedingly painful incident for him, having showcased the true depth of his love for you in such an unexpected and vulnerable way. And for you, to have seen the strongest and most fearless man you have ever known brought down to his knees, in tears, was absolutely gut-wrenching, especially in knowing that his own insecurities about your love had driven him to feel such fear.

You squeeze his arm and kiss the cheek of his helmet in valediction. His unmoving visor lingering on your face for an extended moment.

Boba’s hand makes its way to the back of your head, pulling you forward slightly before gently meeting you in the middle with his own helmet. Your foreheads pressed together in an intimate and tender kiss.

He pulls away silently, giving you a nod, a gesture you return with a small smile before watching him exit the room, Enzo in tow.

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You make your way to the kitchens, stomach growling unhappily at having been neglected all afternoon.

You pause under the doorway.

“I’ve seen you far too much today,” You sigh, feigning exasperation at the sight of Enzo shifting through the pantry for a meal to take to his room.

He stops his digging, turning to face you standing under the doorway before spinning back around.

“Vod’ika,” He greets, “Soup?” He holds a can up over his shoulder while reaching for a pot below the stove.

“No, thanks.” You say, approaching his station.

You pick up the canister of tomato soup, looking it over. “I doubt this tiny thing is even enough for just you.”

He glances down at the can in your hand. “I’ll do two then.”

You roll your eyes, what is it with these massive Mandalorians and not understanding proper nourishment?

“No, no.” You chide, “At least attempt to incorporate a healthy balance into your diet. Something with protein, maybe? Make a grilled porg-and-cheese melt to go with the soup. You can dip it in the broth, it’s delicious.”

His teal visor meets your face, shifting in uncertainty. “Can you do it?”

You sigh, “Fine.”

You get out the sandwich makings, opting to make one for yourself as well. You smear the bantha butter along four pieces of bread and grill them on a pan, layering sliced porg and cheese slices afterward.

You hear footsteps approaching the kitchen just as you’re pulling the finished sandwiches off the stove.

“Raul!” You greet with a smile, Enzo’s head whips in your direction. “We’re making sandwiches, want one?”

“You never sound that excited to see me.” Enzo declares.

You giggle at the accusation, sliding his sandwich onto a plate and handing it to him.

“Can I make you one, Raul?” You repeat.

He sighs, “No kid, thank you.” He steps forward and pulls Enzo’s plate from his hands, placing it away from him on the counter.

“Aye!” Enzo protests, wanting to transport his hot meal to his room so he could eat.

“We work for her,” Raul says, articulating the ‘we’ with an exaggerated hand gesture between the two of them. “You should be making her sandwich, not the other way around.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” You groan, looking between the pair of Mandalorians.

“Yeah, Raul,” Enzo mocks, a slightly more threatening air to his tone. He retrieves the stolen soup and sandwich, “Don’t be a di’kut.”

Raul’s helmet tilts slightly at Enzo’s words. Not knowing exactly what the word means, but starting to get an unsettling feeling in your stomach, you attempt to intervene, “Guys-”

Just a moment too late.

Raul clamps a hand on Enzo’s arm, jolting him back from trying to pass him. His hand smacks the plate out of Enzo’s hand, the glass shattering before it even reaches the floor, and the soup and sandwich splattering everywhere.

“I made that-” You frown.

Now with two free hands, Enzo grips Raul’s shoulders and shoves him back against the brick ovens, a rough grunt escaping Raul when his helmet meets the open face of a hanging pan.

“Please stop-” You yelp, wincing as Enzo’s fist uppercuts into the weak spot under Raul’s helmet.

For being half a head shorter and not as obviously built as his opponent, the Mandalorian in black and teal armor could sure hold his own.

Raul spits something out in mando’a, his words seething as he grabs onto the cuff of the smaller Mandalorians neck covering and throws him with little exertion to the floor. You hear the crunching of glass beneath Raul’s boots as he growls with a foot on pressing to Enzo’s chest in an effort to force him into submission.

“-I wish you guys wouldn’t always do this.” You sigh, not bothering to shout anymore over the sound of beskar scraping against beskar.

You slide from your seat, taking your sandwich with you as you circle around the room to avoid becoming collateral damage in the red Mandalorian’s show of dominance.

“I have never witnessed two people fight over something so stupid in my life!” You call out behind you, tearing a piece of your sandwich off and popping it into your mouth. Leaving the sound of metal crashing against stone behind you.

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You sigh when you finally reach your room, ascending the steps inside your chambers to reach the bedroom. You’re about to sit down on the bed when you catch sight of your reflection, covered in dust patches and knee stains from when you scrubbed against the floor. You opt to take a quick shower instead, washing out all the grime gathered in your hair and skin.

It takes a couple minutes of harsh scrubbing for the water to stop running off your body brown. You take extra care to wash behind your ears and around your hairline, where dirt likes to plant itself firmly.

You turn the water off when the last few soap suds slide off your hair, wrapping yourself in a warm towel.

Taking a glance out the window, you note that the suns are already setting low on the horizon, and resign yourself to just staying in for the rest of the night.

You pull on a slip dress and wrap yourself in Boba’s robe, inhaling his comforting, musky scent. You reach for your book on the nightstand before lighting a couple of candles around the space, creating a warm and cozy environment.

Satisfied with the aesthetic you set around you, you plop down on your bed and hope to get a few chapters into your novel before Boba gets home. Admittedly getting distracted a couple times by the stunning, shaded view out your window, exposing you to the last few moments of the captivating sunset.

Boba comes home a little over an hour later, the glow in your chambers now reduced to only a few lamps and the candlelight spread about your room, but enough to alert Boba of your presence.

You hear his heavy armored footsteps trudging up towards the bedroom. You turn your head expectantly when he reaches the top. Helmet in hand, he pauses for a moment upon seeing you, admiring the image of your figure wrapped up in his robe and curled up with a book, before stepping forward and greeting you with a kiss.

He pulls back, gaze immediately flickering to the window, probably having noticed it immediately upon entering the room but choosing to greet you before acknowledging it.

You groan internally, knowing what's coming.

“Mesh’la,” He hums, frowning at the open curtains exposing you to the darkness of the Tatooine night. A few dim lights from Mos Eisley shining in the distance. He steps forward to slide the curtains closed, you don’t complain, only having wanted them open for sunset. “What have I told you, little one? It's not safe to have these open.”

“I only just opened them, Boba.” You fib a little, hoping to reassure him.

He nods, unconvinced, before beginning to strip himself of his armor. You observe him unlatch the beskar piece-by-piece, placing the armor neatly in its designated chest.

He groans loudly when he sinks down beside you, arms raising behind his head.

You giggle at his tired show of soreness, eyes still glued to the pages of your book. “Old man,” You mutter.

“Watch it.” He growls lowly. You glance a peek at him, eyes closed heavily against his cheeks.

You ponder your bravery for a moment, sticking your nose back in your book before impulsively whispering, “Relic.” You shriek, bursting into a fit of laughter as he suddenly reaches over and wrestles the book out of your hands, using it to plant a harsh smack on your behind.

“Boba Fett!” You squeal, hands moving to shield your bum as the vibrations from his deep laugh shake the bed.

Still holding the book up in a threatening manner, a childlike gleam in his eyes, he challenges you, “Apologize.”

You consider tossing another remark out, eyes darting to the book in his hand, before deciding against it tonight.

Instead, you hoist yourself up onto your knees, allowing his robe to slowly slide down your form and meet the duvet, revealing the thin slip below. His closed-lip smile increases a little, eyes tracing down your form, book lowering slightly in the space above where he lay.

You crawl forward until your chest hovers above him, noses nearly touching, “My apologies, my king.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He deepens the kiss with a groan, your hand reaching back to grip your novel, which he allows you to slip from his fingers.

You let him attack you lips for another moment before you pull away. Having gotten what you wanted, you shift back to your side of the bed, turning to the page you left off at.

A deep chuckle rumbles out from Boba’s chest. “Alright, little one.” He says, “I'll let you play your game.”

He turns the light out on his side of the bed, pulling the blankets out and over the two of you before moving to embrace your form, leaning close to whisper in your ear, “-this time.”

A shiver runs down your spine and you try to resist the smile tugging at your lips, though you feel his own brushing against your ear in satisfaction.

“Tomorrow,” He says, shifting a little above you, “I’m heading into Mos Eisley with Fennec.

“What for?” You ask, finally marking your page and setting it aside.

“Nothing,” He grumbles, “I need to put on a little show of...authority, for a few people.”

You hum, “No big deal?” You question.

“Just a local inconvenience.” He gripes.

You nod slightly, not requiring any elaboration. You suppose you’ll have to entertain yourself tomorrow. “Well then, maybe I’ll have Raul teach me how to wield a dagger,” You quip, a grin back on your face.

Boba huffs out an amused puff of air, “I’d much prefer you with a blaster.” He says, apparently taking the idea seriously, “You don’t need to be up close to use it.”

“We’ll see then,” You say, standing to turn out the rest of the lights.

A single lit candle from your bedside table casts a warm glow over Boba’s face, eyes closed and head still leaning back against your bed-frame pillow.

“Get back on your side,” You chuckle, nudging him as you crawl back into your space.

“M’fine here.” He mumbles, leaning further over onto your pillow.

You smile, his body encasing yours and his nose presses into your neck.

“I’ll be fine here too you know.” You mutter, referencing the day you’ll be spending without his guard.

“You finally gonna stop worrying about me?” You tease, having received no response.

He shakes his head, snuggling deeper into your neck, “Never.”

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

A/N pt.2: So I wrote this and I thought it was great then I read it back a few times and realized literally nothing happened haha im so sorry 😅😅😅

Literally spent too many hours on this not to upload though so I suppose here’s a filler chapter my bad lots of love 🥰

#an angel amongst demons #Boba Fett #boba x reader #boba x you #the mandalorian #book of boba fett #din djarin #mando #boba!palace #soft!boba #king!boba #boba fett x reader #boba's palace

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writersrealmbts · 3 years

Text

All I Want for Christmas

Description: You’re ready for another Christmas at the shelter, but Taehyung has other ideas, and brings you home with him instead. You never thought you’d receive this many gifts.

“For the Christmas request, can I please request a human!Taehyung x Calico cat hybrid!fem!reader where he adopts her and brings her home on Christmas? It’d be so cute because she’d be so happy to have a home and it’d honestly be the best Christmas for both of them🥰🐈💜”

Warnings: Fluff and stuff

Posted: 12/17/2020

Tags: taehyung x reader, hybrid au, hybrid reader, calico cat!reader

1,779 words

A/N: For @kpopgirlbtssvt

You stared out your window at the glittering, snow-covered scenery, while you played with the Christmas-bells bracelet that your secret Santa had gotten for you. You loved it. You liked the gentle sound it made instead of the harsh jangle of the bells that someone had hung on your door, a cacophony of dissonance that made your tail curl.

You winced, turning toward the door as it opened. You weren’t sure why it would be opening, you’d just returned from breakfast and it wasn’t time for activities yet.

A stranger stood in the doorway, holding papers and a small gift bag. And while he didn’t look familiar, he smelled very familiar.

The one that had been observing everyone for adoption purposes for the past two weeks.

He smiled softly at you. “Hello, y/n. My name is Taehyung. I got you a Christmas present.”

You felt excitement bubbling up within you, and you slowly moved toward him.

He met you half-way, holding out the bag.

You carefully took it, bowing slightly, then carefully pulling the gift from the bag.

It was a charm bracelet, pretty and gold and shiny and it had three charms. One was a sleigh, carefully and intricately made with a bag of presents in the back. Another was a cute, but realistic looking bear. The last were simple mark-tags, ones that displayed your basic information and your owner’s….

You slowly looked back up at him. “You’re adopting me?”

He shook his head. “I have already adopted you. I’m bringing you home. I have more presents for you at home. I hope you can accept my first gift, though,” He said, looking hopeful.

You grinned and eagerly put it on behind your jingle-bracelet, admiring it in the morning light. You were being adopted!

He laughed a bit. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” You agreed, vibrating with excitement. You were getting the best Christmas present ever! You had an owner! You were being taken to a home!

“Y/n, your things?” The shelter worker prompted.

“Oh! Right!” You bounded toward the closet and grabbed your two dresses, your socks, and your shoes, putting them into the laundry sack, then got your 2 pairs of pants and 2 sets of pajamas and 3 shirts. “Ok!”

“Pillow? Friend?”

You squeaked in alarm and raced to the bed to grab the pillow and your stuffed calico kitty that had ears and a tail exactly like yours, then hesitated, hand on the old, worn blanket that you kept carefully folded over the end of your bed.

The worker nodded, smiling softly. “It’s yours.”

You grinned again and shoved those things into the sack as well. “Ready!”

“Uh, you might want to wear some shoes instead of slippers,” Taehyung suggested gently, looking just as happy as ever. Not scolding.

You stared down at your slippers for just a minute too long before diving into the sack and grabbing your shoes.

“Relax, kitten. We’ve got time to get home, it’s not going anywhere,” Taehyung said in a soothing tone as you fumbled with the straps of your shiny, black shoes. They looked cute with your red Christmas dress with the pretty white furry lining. You didn’t care what that know-it-all tabby three doors down said, you thought the shoes were cute. And they fit you, it was rare for shoes to actually fit properly, though the shelter tried their hardest to make sure all of you had at least one pair of shoes that fit properly, outside of the slippers which were bought in the proper sizes for everyone.

“Y/n! I found the…sash….” The other hybrid peered into the room, swallowing hard. “Oh…are you….”

“I’ve been adopted, Jiyoung!” You squeaked happily, dragging your sack over to her. “What did you find?”

“The sash, to the dress,” She said eagerly, grinning in happiness for you and then whipping the white sash around your waist and tying it in a big, fancy bow behind you. “There! Now it isn’t just a sack! I will tell you again, though, it was made to be a costume.”

“It’s pretty and soft,” You argued, hugging yourself.

She kissed your cheek. “Good luck in your new home, y/n. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” You responded, voice a choked whisper. You were leaving your friends.

Someone gently took your sack of belongings from you. “Come on, y/n. Let’s go show you your new home.”

You looked back at the gentle, understanding expression on Taehyung’s face and melted a bit. “Okay.”

Jiyoung patted your arm and hurried back down the hall to the donations room where she helped out. She was one of the owner’s hybrids, so at least you knew she was loved.

“Everyone else is in the main room, they’ve been told you’ve been adopted and are waiting to say goodbye,” The shelter worker said gently, noticing your hesitation.

You nodded and took Taehyung’s offered hand, going to the main room.

And maybe you gave your jingle bracelet to the grumpy tabby from three doors down because you knew she’d been jealous of it and you wanted her to be happy and your secret santa had given you an approving smile.

You sort of bet that Taehyung might get you another if you asked really, really nicely.

Taehyung’s car was very nice, nicer than any vehicle you’d ever been in before, and he played Christmas music softly on the radio as if knowing you were nervous as well as excited.

“I understand the sleigh, because you’re adopting me on Christmas, right?” You asked, attention on the charm bracelet again.

He nodded, smiling.

“But what about the bear?”

He looked a little sheepish. “Um…well, I have this song. It’s called winter bear, so I thought after a while if you look at the bear charm you’ll think of it as part of me.”

You were purring before he even finished speaking, holding your wrist and the bracelet close to your heart while you stared out the windows at the Christmas decorations the people all bundled up.

He parked at a large apartment building, grabbing your things and offering to hold your hand again. “Anyway, I do sometimes travel for work. And I was hoping the charm might remind you of me if I’m not able to take you with me. I’m going to make sure to try and get you in every trip, because you’re my responsibility now, but there will be times even when you’re with me on a trip that you might be at the hotel while I’m working. If you can’t go with me on a trip, you’ll probably stay with my parents, and they’re really nice so I think you’ll like them and I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. And—”

“Taehyung-ah,” You whispered, trying to be respectful since you weren’t sure how he wanted you to address him yet. “It’s a little cold outside.”

He blinked at you, then his eyes widened and his eyebrows rose. “You don’t have a coat!”

You shook you head.

He hurried you into the building then ran back and grabbed the sack when you pointed it out, before punching the button to the elevator and muttering about warming you up so that you wouldn’t get sick and how he was a terrible owner.

You patted his arm. “You’re not a terrible owner, and I’m not that cold. See, I’m not shivering. We can still have a nice Christmas.”

“Right,” He breathed, sounding relieved. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, smiling up at him.

“Right, oh, and you can just call me Taehyung.”

You nodded again, smiling and blinking up at him.

He led the way down the hall once the doors opened, holding your hand again, unlocking the door to his apartment (it had a pretty wreath on it). “It isn’t much but this is home.”

You stepped in and took off your shoes, then realized you didn’t have your slippers out.

He caught your panicked looked and smiled gesturing to two pairs of slippers, one pair smaller than the others that looked adorable and comfortable. Like fairy slippers. “I got those for you. They told me your sizes so I could get you some things.”

You felt warm all over and you carefully tried on the slippers, purring at how soft they were.

He looked relieved that you liked them.

Then you saw the rest of his apartment and gaped. Not because of the Christmas tree, which really was delightfully decorated, but because it was very large. You’d seen other apartments before, for home visits before adoptions that fell through at the previous shelter you’d been in as a child. This place was…expensive.

“Wow,” You breathed.

“Like I said, it’s not much, I don’t really even have that much furniture. I just sort of moved in a couple months ago.” He rubbed his neck.

You stared at him, then at the apartment. “It’s huge. You lived here alone?”

“Oh…well…yeah. That’s also why I got you, I’m not used to living alone and the others drop by now and then and I drop by their places now and then but…it’s not the same as what I’m used to and then I saw the shelter and I just got curious and…I didn’t want to be alone anymore and you were so bright and lively that I thought…you’d help me liven the place up. Help it feel warm in here instead of empty.” He looked embarrassed.

You smiled. “I can certainly try.”

He smiled back at you. “Ready for your presents?”

“I feel bad, I don’t have presents for you,” You replied, worried.

“You being here and enjoying what I’ve gotten for you will be enough,” He reassured you, looking happy again.

You nodded and let him lead you through the apartment to a door with a ribbon stuck to it.

“This is your room, y/n,” He whispered, then opened the door.

You squeaked in surprise as you looked around the absolutely plush room. Big bed, lots of pillows and blankets, and pretty pretty furniture. Gentle colors, pretty colors. A lamp, a ceiling fan. And he had some clothes in the dresser and the closet, and some books on the shelves.

He was watching you hopefully, waiting to see if you liked it all.

Your eyes filled with tears and you raced over you hug his waist tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You breathed, locking your arms around him.

His lips pressed lightly to your temple. “Merry Christmas, y/n.”

“Merry Christmas,” You whispered back.

#Christmas story madness #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #calico cat hybrid!reader #hybrid!reader #cat hybrid!reader #bts #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #bts v

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todourouki · 4 years

Note

congrats on 1k+!! can i request for sfw #14 (domestic life w/ them 🥺) with aizawa, todoroki, bakugou, and shinsou? thank you sm!! i love your works :>

AHHH! thank you so much for this, it means a lot! and ugh this is so cuteeee!

Want to celebrate prompt night with me? Click Here.

SFW PROMPT #14: What would living with them be like?

including aizawa, todoroki, bakugou, & shinsou

living with aizawa would be so nice

he’s not a high-maintenance guy

he’s more of a “as long as nothing looks like a piece of shit, we’re good”

matching sleeping bags

the man adores his sleep, i’m sure we all see that

so there’s soft blankets spread over every single couch/lounge-chair incase the two of you decide to nap

every day off, you guys have a tradition on waking up the latest time you possibly could, cooking breakfast together and eating it in bed with a show the two of you are currently binge watching on the tv

aizawa isn’t a bathroom hogger honestly he probably doesn’t even look in the mirror as much as he should

he’s pretty tidy when it comes to leaving his shit where it’s supposed to be

mostly because if he loses it, he knows he’ll be too lazy to look for it and he probably doesn’t have time

the furniture is all monochromatic

i don’t see him as a guy having brightly covered couches in his living room

everything is neutral, black, or white

minimalistic king

due to pure exhaustion all the time, color is out of the question, it reminds him of his students and he hates it but secretly loves it so all of his plates are multicolored

honestly living with aizawa sounds amazing

“Shouta,” you groan, eyes snapped harshly shut die to the light tracing into the room from the now open shades, “close the freaking things.”

Aizawa mumbles right after you, leg kicking the shade he once accidentally lifted with his foot back to where it once was. With the harsh tugs done by his feet, the light in the room finally fleeted away and allowed the comfortable dimness takeover once again.

The Pro-Hero’s arms gripped onto you tighter, nose nuzzled into your neck and bringing your body the kind of warmth necessary within the cold room. “S’go back to sleep, kitten.”

You mustered a smile, eyes still closed and hands running through the silky black hair resting underneath your neck. Mornings with Shouta were always the same— waking up once because of his leg obnoxiously releasing the shades, and both of you falling asleep once again in each other’s embrace.

You felt Aizawa begin to rub your back, fingers twinkling against your bare back soothing you beyond explanation. Within minutes, you felt yourself losing conscience, and you finally drifted back to sleep with the man you loved cradling you with unconscious admiration.

living with todoroki is exactly what you’d think it would be

i don’t mean to say it

but ima say it

this rich bitch has a ton of antique and expensive furniture lying around

mostly because he loves using his dad’s money

you and todoroki are a weird match

because you both love the exact same things

so all the furniture in your home

whether the living room be one color and bedroom be another

it all weirdly goes together because you’re both so good and coordinating shit

like your couch could be fucking orange

and the blue throw-pillows and decorations you cover your living room with just make sense

just like the two of you

living with todoroki means you figure out just how funny he actually is

also just how dense the boy could be

like he’s so sweet but also a little ✨dumb✨

he doesn’t know how to use the laundry machine and he never will don’t change my mind about this

todoroki loved cold soba we all know that

so there is a specific cabinet underneath the sink filled with all the ingredients for making it

that cabinet has to be restocked a lot

usually on days off, shouto would like to sleep in but he knows he just can’t

so if you like to sleep in, he already went out for a run, took a shower, and made you breakfast by the time you wake up

if you like to wake up early/with him, you find yourself either joining his workout or making him a hearty breakfast by the time he gets back

living with todoroki is really sweet bye i’m gonna go cry

“I just don’t understand why I’d have to press so many obnoxious buttons to get it to wash clothes,” he began, his stoic voice staring harshly at the machine infront of him as you stared at him in disbelief, “it isn’t my fault.”

“Shou, you froze the entire machine..” You repeated, a deadpanned expression on your face as you tried your hardest not to laugh.

You knew your boyfriend wasn’t the best at figuring things like this out, he hated to admit it but his family had done a lot for him back home. And sure, he wasn’t a little boy anymore and should probably know how to work a laundry machine, but he was convinced it acted up with him and him only.

“It was giving me a hard time, I didn’t even realize I froze it until I realized the clothes weren’t spinning anymore..” The frown on his face was one you couldn’t help but smile at, the grin taking over your face as you chortled a laugh.

With your empty hand, you gave the boy a kiss on the forehead, his calculating expression trying to decipher the reason certain clothes needed a certain temperature of water. Moments like this made you realize just why you loved Todoroki so much.

bakugou

is a handful

that’s clear to everyone

but living with him, oddly enough, is not

you both have a specific cleaning day

every single sunday morning

and that same night included the two of you watching a movie and having loud in-depth character analysis debate every single time

you both have special cooking days (he has more but it’s ok bc he won’t say it but he absolutely loves cooking for you)

bakugou has been through a lot, my baby

so consistency is something he depends on

he nearly breathes for it

routine is everything in your household, being something you grew accustomed to as well even if it’s not what you’re used to

every day you’d wait for him to get back home on the plush couch in the living room

so that way you’re the first thing he sees when he gets home, as well as a platter of his favorite food for the night and his fav tv show on the tv

he feels like he’s walking into heaven every single day

and depending on your schedules, you get the same thing when you get home if he beats you to it

a show/anime you’re trying to finish, the food you’ve begged him to make, and your loving boyfriend/husband lounged against the couch waiting for your arrival

you both wake up early— sorry, even if you don’t want to

bakugou doesn’t give a single fuck, he will wake you up and force you to either workout with him or start your day with him

on his days off though, you both sleep in until the afternoon

there’s literally no inbetween with your schedules

you’re both either up and ready to go by 8am or finally getting up to brush your teeth at 3pm

“How many times do I have to tell you— the real villain was not Sharpay, but Gabriella!” Your voice boomed, staring at your boyfriend who looked at you as if you had four heads.

“Babe, with all due respect, you’re a fucking idiot!” He retaliated just as aggressive and firm as you. “How can you say that when she’s such a bitch?!”

The credits of the movie you just watched played in the background, popcorn kernels pushing into the skin you had sprawled against your boyfriend. The pink reflected across your shirtless boyfriend, his ears beginning to redden due to the volume of his voice.

“Gabriella walked into that high school and literally stole everything Sharpay worked for,” you retorted, the straw you were drinking from entering your lips as you took a quick sip of the soda, “that’s being a bitch!”

He opened his mouth, signaling you to throw one of the Swedish Fish candies into his mouth and you did. With a laugh, you continued to throw food into one another’s mouth over and over throughout the argument.

“Maybe you resonate with Sharpay so much because you’re both bitches.” He snickered, dodging a pillow that fleeted your side of the couch and into his side by your right hand.

A gasp slipped your lips, narrowing your eyes at his tall figure and shoving a candy down your throat after his words, “maybe that’s why you love me, cause you’re a bitch too.”

living with shinsou >>>> breathing

shinsou is a gamer idc

there’s a playstation in both your room and your living room for game nights

yes

you guys had a game night

every single friday you guys would sit in nothing but (shinsou’s) t-shirt, and underwear and play nothing but video games all day

you usually end up falling asleep when the sun begins to come up, always taking saturday’s off no matter what for the occasion

you both are clean

being too lazy just like aizawa to have to find it if it’s misplaced

the bedroom look the best bc shinsou gets tired of monochromatic things and you hate living in a boring setting

so the two of you’s aesthetic shines through the room

if you cook, then please know food us up to you

if you can’t cook

money is spent 90% of the time on take out

because shinsou can’t cook for shit i don’t care

sometimes people wonder how it is you both manage to go to work and have a coherent sleeping schedule

and the reason is

aside from shinsou’s clinical insomnia )-:

that the two of you are absolute dumbasses

you spend all day doing homework if one of you is in college

or doing the work that needs to be done if you have just a job

and after that?

it’s just cuddling, gaming, struggling to cook, ordering take out, and eventual sleeping when you both realize you’re both past a point of ni return

most of the time though, you both manage to sleep

it’s more surprising for shinsou though bc he could never sleep properly if he’s alone

the two of you live together in GTA

also, I canon that Shinsou loves watching The Office so you guys binge watch the fuck out of that

living with shinsou is living with a bestfriend that is a civilized adult at certain times that you can cuddle and make out with

a girl can only dream <3

The sound of the console played through the room, your focused face watching the screen in front of you intently. The feeling of the bed moving along side every tap of the controller in your boyfriend’s hands trembled your limbs, your eyes being too locked on the screen to even maintain a balance.

“Go to the left, the left!” You pointed out, your legs sprawled across your boyfriend’s chest as he rested his body horizontally underneath yours.

“I know..” His voice was enough to show you he was focused, his eyes barely blinking as he followed your command and moved the character closer towards the left.

As gun shots erupted through the room, all you could see were flashes of red across the screen and players who had been attacked in Shinsou’s frenzy dead against the floor.

Exhilaration ran through your veins as finally killed the last person, the feeling of his body tending under you making you smile in happiness. You had both been trying to beat this level for weeks and you finally did it, exciting you to no limit.

The phrase “victory” strobed against the screen, making the two of you cheer in happiness at the time being well spent. He landed a big fat kiss on your cheek, pulling you in by the string in your hoodie and pressing you against him.

“Let’s beat some more ass in this next round, huh doll?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, pretty boy.”

#headcanons #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #aizawa x reafer #aizawa x reader #todoroki x reader #aizawa #shinsou #todoroki #1kfollowersnight #heillysreqs

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fallingappleshurt · 3 years

Note

Could you possibly write a SBI FD AU of all of the boys at Christmas. Could be at Christmas or any other time during the winter. Genuinely all I want to read right now. <3

Ty, Anon

Snowy Boys Incorporated (Part 1/2)

Sorry y’all, apparently word limits are a thing but anyways here it is!

Sorry if the flow of this was weird, it jumps from Phil to Tommy to Techno back to Tommy then to Wilbur, I have no excuse

This AU was made my the wonderful @antarctic-bay go check her out! And please keep in mind my writing isn’t canon!

Also the two times French is mentioned I used google translate because I am tired

Anyways hope you enjoy!

Phil parked the car and texted Techno and Wilbur to come help him and Tommy with the tree and ornaments. He turned off the engine and pocketed his phone, hoping Techno and Wilbur had actually moved the furniture to make room for the tree while him and Tommy had actually got the tree and ornaments from a storage unit.

“Phil- Phil! The tree is stuck!” Tommy said, Phil could hear him yanking at the box.

“Hang on, watch the ice,” Phil came around to the trunk of the car, ignoring the snowflakes fluttering down, he saw Tommy trying to shake the box from it’s jammed position.

“How did you manage this?”

“I don’t know!”

“Let me try,” Phil grabbed the sides of the box, trying to slowly wedge it out, but to no avail. “How did you do this?”

“Wh- How is this my fault?” Tommy cried, starting to pull at the box again.

“You’re the one that packed it!”

“What are you guys doing?” Phil looked over to see Techno standing by the car, eyebrow raised.

“Tommy’s shit at packing and got the tree stuck.”

“That sounds like him-”

“Hey!”

“You’re just mad-” Techno was caught off guard by Wilbur coming up behind him, slipping, and knocking them both to the ground.

“Wilbur what the fuck!”

“I slipped!”

“Get off of me!” Phil cackled as Tommy laughed loudly, wheezing at the end.

“That’s what you get for being an asshole! Instant karma!”

Techno responded by grabbing a fist full of snow and throwing it at Tommy, it landed on his chest and he yelped.

“It got in my shirt!”

“Good.”

After Techno and Wilbur had untangled themselves and dusted the snow from their clothes, they started to help them with the tree. They ended up having Techno climb into the car and lower one of the backseats and after much more struggling and wiggling the box they managed to free the tree from its very old, silver chamber.

Wilbur grabbed the boxes of ornaments and started up the stairs while Tommy and Techno followed with the tree and Phil locked up the car, listening to his brother's banter and hoping they actually wouldn’t try to race up the stairs.

He was glad to see his brothers more relaxed, they had all been stressed with finals right before break, he had come home from work many nights seeing them with books and papers spread out across the table, empty cups of coffee and energy drink cans littered around.

It was nice to see them fooling around.

Phil entered the apartment and slipped off his shoes, throwing them in the pile, to see Techno dragging the tree out of it’s box while Tommy and Wilbur pulled cobwebs off of ornaments.

They set up the tree in the corner of the room by a window and started to mess with the cords to plug in the lights, after unplugging and replugging every cord they managed to fit the tree lights in.

They started decorating, adding on colorful glass balls and a few candy canes just to be extra even though they knew Wilbur would eat them later.

Phil grabbed his personal favorite ornament, a wooden one with Snoopy and Woodstalk wearing santa hats in the snow, and hung it on the tree. They each had a favorite ornament, Techno’s was a mini violin, Wilbur’s an ornate snowflake, Tommy’s was a glass pickle. They were all hung on the front of the tree where they were easily seen.

They still had some of the little foam ornaments, the kind that are made in elementary school and kept for nostalgia and nostalgia only. Some still had pictures, Phil with an old striped bucket hat that they only let him keep for the first day of school. He missed that hat, it had been lost in a move.

Pulling more from the box, he found a snowman with a picture of Techno, glasses too big for his face, smiling shyly at the camera with paint on his hands. A baby blue foam mitten had a picture of Wilbur, who wasn’t facing the camera, with wild hair and a huge grin on his face as he slapped at a toy keyboard. A fading gingerbread man had a picture of Tommy grinning, eyes squeezed shut with colorful band aids across his face.

He took pictures with his phone and hung them up on the tree, much to his younger brother's annoyance.

Wilbur scrapped old tinsel out of the bottom of the boxes and put a few strands on the tree. Tommy grabbed the bundles of old lights and proceeded to strong them along the walls of the apartment.

“These are the next best things to LED lights,” He said, almost matter-of- factly, Phil just laughed as Tommy attempted to tape some of the wire to the wall. He was eventually able to pull it off after continually yelling at Techno to bring him duct tape and ‘fucking help him or he’d shake the bunk’.

After they had finished setting it up, they turned off all the lights except for the tree and strung ones on the wall. The colorful candy ones shown in the window by the tree and the golden light showed nicely against their white walls.

“The yellow lights kind of look like fireflies,” Techno mused, rubbing at his eyes.

“Maybe in video games, but this is the real world,” Tommy scoffed.

“Aww, are you tired?” Wilbur teased voice raising multiple octaves, “Little Blade need a na-”

Techno shoved Wilbur’s face away, “Shut up Wilbur,” He grumbled.

“When was the last time you slept?” Phil asked.

“Uh,” Techno paused for much longer then necessary, “Can’t remember.”

“Huh, that’s definitely not concerning-”

“I think this looks great!” Tommy interrupted, “Considering half of this stuff was covered in cobwebs!”

Phil nodded, “Oh wait, we forgot the star!” He started digging through one the boxes, his brothers left him to it and sat down on the couch. The star was always Phil’s thing, it was never a spoken rule, just something they had agreed on. Once he found it, Phil placed it on the tree then sat down next to his brothers.

He asked Wilbur about his day and Wilbur told him about finals hell and how every student looked dead or was trying to sleep in the cafeteria.

He turned to the others only to find that Techno and Tommy had already passed out, leaning on each other. Phil nudged Wilbur with his elbow, nodding towards the sleeping pair. They both pulled out their phones, taking pictures.

“Blackmail?” Phil asked, a grin pulling at his lips. Wilbur nodded.

“Blackmail.”

Phil took Techno’s glasses off of his face and set them on the coffee table and Wilbur covered them with a blanket.

The next morning Tommy sat up groggily, his first thought being that he was really hungry, so after untangling his and Techno’s limbs he padded into the kitchen. He started making a bowl of cereal and scrambled eggs, he made them in the lazy way, whisking the eggs with a fork then putting them in the microwave.

Then he remembered that it had been snowing the day before and rushed over to the window. A thick white blanket covered the terrain, sparkling white with soft gray clouds coating the sky. He opened the window and poked at the snow. He squished a fistful in his palm, it was packed, heavy snow.

Perfect for snowball fights.

He was going to destroy his brothers.

He closed the window then went to grab his food and sat at the table. A few minutes later he saw Techno sit up and rub at his eyes, Tommy watched him look around for a moment.

“Glasses are on the coffee table,” He supplied, taking a bite of cereal, Techno gave him a thumbs up then headed into the kitchen, starting to make a cup of coffee.

“Why don’t you eat breakfast?” Tommy asked, Techno looked over at him, glaring at his food.

“Why do you eat breakfast? It’s too early for food,”

“But not too early for coffee?”

“It’s never too early for coffee Tommy.”

Techno sat down across from him, obviously still trying to wake up fully. Just as Tommy was finishing his food Phil emerged from the hallway.

“You guys ready for today?”

“Heh?”

“What’s happening today?”

Phil raised an eyebrow, “Did you forget? We are helping down at the St Francis soup kitchen- my friend is low on people-I told you about this a week ago.”

“I completely forget,” Techno’s response was muffled by the coffee cup.

“Well we gotta be there in like an hour, get moving!”

Tommy put his dishes in the sink and saw Wilbur standing in the hall, staring him down.

“Hey Tommy, didn’t you wanna shower this morning?” He asked, eyes drifting towards the bathroom.

“Wilbur don’t-”

“Tommy-”

“Wilbur don’t-” Tommy’s begging was cut off as Wilbur shot to the side, dove into the bathroom and slammed the door. Tommy rushed over, pounding on the flimsy wood.

“Damn it Wilbur! Open the door!”

He heard the shower start and pounded harder.

“Wilbur you bitch!”

“Tommy it is too early for you to be this loud-” Techno said from the table.

“I’ll be quieter sooner if you help me open the door!”

Techno considered it for a moment then stood up, “Where is that bent coat hanger-”

“For fucks sake-” Phil put a hand on Tommy’s chest then knocked on the door, “Wilbur! You got ten minutes!”

Wilbur’s ‘okay’ was muffled from the door, Tommy sighed, leaning on the door, deciding he would absolutely beat the shit out of his brothers later.

They were running late because of course they were, between the fight for the bathroom, getting the car cleaned off and getting to the soup kitchen in the day before Christmas traffic was not the easier task, at least for the Pandels.

They finally pulled up to the soup kitchen and parked in the back, heading inside. They had barely managed to take off their coats before an employee pulled them into the kitchen.

Tommy was barely able to process what the man said, something about being understaffed, and shoved Tommy next to another boy who was sorting out juice boxes and fruit cups onto trays.

His brothers were being pulled aside to do actual cooking, they had done it before once when Tommy was sick and had to stay home.

After sorting and setting out all of the food along a conveyor belt type thing, Tommy wasn’t really sure what it was, they pulled up a metal covering so people could come get food.

Each person had to pass out different foods to people, Tommy was put at the end of the conveyor belt, handing out christmas cookies. Wilbur was next to him, offering different drinks.

Multiple different people came down the line, filling their plates with food and sitting down in the cafeteria. There was a TV in the corner and a bookshelf, other people milled about, soft chatter against the pots and pans clattering in the kitchen.

Two kids walked through the line with their parents, the girl looked at Wilbur and wrinkled her nose.

“Your hat looks weird,”

Tommy cackled and gave her an extra cookie.

Eventually they shut the windows and started to clean up the kitchen, putting plates and trays into a huge dishwasher, boxing things up in a walk in freezer and handing out non perishables to people as they left.

Tommy leaned against the counter, Techno and Phil were taking off aprons and putting them in a laundry pile, his shoulders loosened. They had helped people, it felt good;

“Just helped some people- feeling good-”

“Just killed a woman, feeling good!” Wilbur cut in, elbowing Tommy in the ribs, he elbowed him back. “Dickhead,”

“Hey! We’re gonna be heading out soon!” Phil called across the kitchen.

“Is there anything else we have planned?” He asked Wilbur.

“We’re making cookies,”

“Why?”

Wilbur shrugged, “Cause Techno got some new recipes from that gang of Lesbians at school.”

Tommy shuttered, “Oh I remember them, they scare me-”

“I thought you said they were cool,” Wilbur interjected, starting to follow Phil out the door.

“They are! But they also scare the shit out of me!”

Wilbur laughed, “As they should.”

Techno was watching Tommy slide around the kitchen in his socks when Phil asked; “Techno, you said you had some new recipes?”

He nodded, “Yeah, the Lesbian group chat gave me some,”

He remembered getting them was an interesting process, he asked them if they knew of any good cookie recipes and they had all started spamming for one girl to get online. When she did get online he asked the question again. She responded in all caps ‘You fucking fuck! Of course I have some! I am a cottagecore lesbian! What do you take me for!’ Then sent him 7 different recipes.

Wilbur snorted, “I still can’t believe you got taken in by a group of lesbians.”

Techno rolled his eyes and sent two of the recipes to Phil, who was preheating the oven.

“Why are we making so many?” Tommy asked, grabbing the baking sheets from the cabinets.

“They are for the neighbors,” Phil said.

“As a gift?”

“As an apology, you guys are fucking loud.”

Techno smiled, getting out the measuring cups and starting to put ingredients into the bowl. One was a recipe for sugar cookies, which is what he and Wilbur were doing, and the other were snickerdoodles which Phil and Tommy were in charge of.

Techno and Wilbur always worked well together, they flowed around each other, passing ingredients and helping each other out. Meanwhile Phil and Tommy had spilled half of the things they were trying to get into the bowl.

As Wilbur and Techno put their cookies in the oven, Phil nudged Tommy.

“Tommy, where is the rest of the butter, you said you grabbed more,”

“I did, I grabbed-”

“Then give it to me,”

Tommy didn’t move, “Hey Phil, remember when I said I had the butter-well- I lied.”

“What!”

“Don’t worry Phil, We still have some over here,” Wilbur passed a stick of butter behind him.

“Do you guys want some help-” Techno asked, biting his tongue, Tommy pushed him away.

“No! We got this!”

So Wilbur and Techno hung out in the living room while Phil and Tommy tried not to kill each other over cookies. It turned out to be for the best though because when they were ready to put their cookies in, Wilbur and Techno’s were done.

The two decorated their cookies with colored sprinkles, the recipe said it was optional but Wilbur had made the excellent point that sprinkles should never be optional.

Once Phil and Tommy’s cookies were done and left out too cool, Techno’s phone buzzed.

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gothighunicorntolerance · 3 years

Text

Planet Earth is blue

In a sudden urge of spontaneity, Logan joins a crew of aliens

AO3

Two

Logan looked down at the black water below him. It would be so easy. Just put his feet on the other side of the railing. Then push off. Just a moment of falling before he hit the water. It would be a far enough drop that he would likely die on impact. Then he might finally be able to relax in his last moments of free fall. He had no one- no family who cared about him, no friends to speak of. Not since he’d been outed, anyways.

There was nothing for him, so why couldn’t he do it? Just step over the railing, that was all he had to do to end it. Maybe it was the weight of his backpack holding him on the safer side of the bridge, on the empty stretch of road, filled with everything he owned- his phone, a change of clothes, his favorite book, and a wad of cash, decorated with a single pride pin.

Logan kept staring into the water. What he was looking for, he didn’t know. Maybe a sign? But if it was a sign he was looking for, he found it.

A flashing light reflected off the water below, and Logan looked up, startled. There was… something moving across the sky. Logan was no pilot or professional astronomer, but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn’t a plane or star. It looked like a bright disk, and it was getting closer. Logan stepped away from the railing- he didn’t want to have to explain himself if someone saw.

Suddenly the light came to a stop above him, and it began to descend, growing brighter. Logan shielded his eyes as the thing came down on the bridge. What was that thing?

He took a step back as the glowing faded, and Logan could make out what looked like to be some kind of- a spacecraft?

If Logan had been in his right mind (which he definitely was not, considering what he had been through in the past twenty four hours), he might have fished his phone out of his pocket and called someone, maybe the emergency services number, or at least started recording what was happening. But Logan was absolutely not in his right mind, so instead he just watched open-mouthed as the side of the ship began to open and a humanoid figure stepped out.

Well, Logan said humanoid, because he had no idea who- or what- he was actually looking at. There were four limbs and a head, he knew, but past that?

There were eight tentacle-like appendages sprouting for its- their? Back, each moving independently. Another figure stepped out of the craft with the same limb arrangement as the first figure- four limbs, a head, and tentacles.

They looked at each other and spoke in a language Logan had never heard before, and then looked around the bridge.

Logan shrunk back as the two creatures looked directly at him, and though it could have been his imagination, Logan swore the two of them let out a scream, though Logan heard mangled grunts.

Their shouts must have alerted whatever else was in that ship, as two more figures spilled out onto the roadway in front of Logan.

This time, it was Logan who screamed.

The tallest figure ran towards Logan, all six of its arms outstretched.

Wait- six? Logan didn’t have time to marvel at the biological diversity that had landed on earth before the shortest thing to come out of the ship said something in a croaking language, reminiscent of a frog, and the six-armed man-person-alien-thing skidded to a halt right in front of Logan and responded with a series of hisses, looking back and forth between Logan and the not-quite-humans still standing by the ship.

The shortest one began to move towards Logan, and it seemed like they not only had a language like a frog- they looked like one, too, albeit one that stood on two legs, wore clothing, and had glasses. The frog-person reached a webbed hand to grab Six-Arms and pull him back.

But Logan was quicker, and grabbed Frog-Person (an easy task, despite Logan having never been athletic at all, considering Frog-Person weighed about as much as a regular earth frog.

Logan, still being in his not-right mind, did something that Right Minded Logan would have never even considered: he did something impulsive.

“Take me with you,” Logan said, his grip still around Frog-Person. He had no idea if Six-Arms or any of the Tentacle-Men could understand him, but Logan believed his point had gotten across the language barrier, as Frog-Person looked at Six-Arms who looked at Tentacles One and Two, who looked at each other and shrugged.

Six-Arms reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a metal device that looked similar to a hearing aid, and handed it to Logan.

He looked hesitantly at the device before putting Frog-Person down and sticking the thing in his ear. If he died, he died.

As the thing settled into his ear, it felt for a split second as if Logan had a bucket of water dumped over his head before the sensation faded, and he found he could now understand Six-Arms.

“That was incredibly rude, you know,” Six-Arms said, frowning (did non-human things frown?). “Despite what I tell him, I actually enjoy having Patton around.”

“You speak English?” Logan asked, suddenly not nearly as afraid as he had been.

“Yes, I took English immersion class in an earth school,” Six-Arms rolled his eyes, which Logan now noticed were two different colors with slit pupils. “No, this is a translator. It knows what language you speak, and then it translates mine into yours, so you can understand me.”

“Oh. What is your language, then?”

“Your language, English you called it? Doesn’t have a word for it. So to you, it would sound like hissing.”

Logan nodded. “My name is Logan, and I want to come with you.”

“Right to the point? I’ll have to converse with my, ah, crew. Crew?” Six-Arms turned to look at the other aliens (that was what they were, right?) who, after a moment of looking at each other, shrugged and nodded.

“Alright!” Six-Arms clapped. “Welcome aboard the Silver Serpent!” Six-Arms put two of his arms on Logan’s back and led him to the ramp from the road to the ship’s doorway. “Everyone, this is Logan. Introduce yourselves.”

The ones with tentacles- which now in the light, Logan could see they were green and red, and the red ones were more like elephant trunks- both waved (Logan noticed they had seven fingers on each hand).

“Roman,” the red one said.

“That’s my brother. I’m Remus,” the green one smiled.

“Hello! I’m Patton,” Frog-Person held out a webbed hand for Logan to shake.

“Greetings, Patton. I, ah, apologize about earlier,” Logan said with a sheepish blush.

“Oh, no worries! It was quite a sudden meeting!” Patton’s laugh sounded like the frog that had constantly croaked outside Logan’s window crossed with a warbling of a bird. An odd sound, but somehow pleasant.

“And I am Janus, captain of the Silver Serpent.”

So Six-Arms had a name! Three of Janus’s hands helped Logan up the ramp, and it was only then that Logan realized that in addition to six arms, Janus had a long scaly tail the same color as the scales spread across his face. “I’ve never had a human on my crew, so I hope everything is sufficient for you. Though if you need more oxygen on the ship, just tell Virgil, he’ll fix it.”

“Virgil? Who’s that?” Logan asked, though as soon as he set foot on the ship he got his answer. At first glance, it seemed like a tall human sat in a chair at the front, though it became clear that instead of two human legs, there instead sprouted eight spider-like limbs from Virgil’s torso.

“This is Virgil,” Janus said. “Virgil, have you met our newest crew member Logan?”

“Hi, Logan,” Virgil said, blinking all eight of his pitch black eyes.

“Hello,” Logan waved nervously. Virgil just gave a fanged grin in response and turned back around to whatever he was doing at the front of the ship.

Logan looked around the ship in awe. The inside was much bigger than it looked, and Logan briefly wondered if Doctor Who technology had actually happened on different planets. The front of the ship where Virgil sat had eight large chairs facing the same direction out the window, and looking to his left, Logan could see what looked like living quarters.

Janus led him down that way while Roman, Remus, and Patton went to sit with Virgil.

“Do humans sleep? Is that a thing? If so, I hope what we have here is sufficient for you,” Janus opened a door with one of his hany hands and with another hand gestured around. It wasn’t large, but it definitely beat what Logan had in his too small apartment that likely did not come close to meeting OSHA standards.

“Yes, humans sleep,” Logan found himself thinking about how other species got rest- or did they even need it?

In the corner of the room there was furniture reminiscent of a bed and nightstand, though the ‘mattress’ was definitely not made of cotton, and the nightstand was yet another foregin material. The floor didn’t look or feel carpeted, but it was even softer than any rug Logan could buy.

“This is- this is perfect. Thank you, Janus.” Logan walked over to the bed and set his bag on the floor.

Janus nodded, “I will let you rest and adjust. I believe there are very few humans in space. In fact, you might be one of the only ones. So get some sleep, and when you’re ready, the cafeteria is down the hall.”

Logan nodded and sat on the bed, almost sinking down into it. Whatever it was made of, it was the softest thing Logan had ever slept on. He fell almost immediately into a dreamless sleep, staying awake only long enough to place his glasses on the nightstand.

When he woke, he found that he had gotten the most rest he had in awhile. Putting his glasses on and tiptoeing over to the door, Logan pressed an ear to the cold metal, listening for the others on the ship. They had seemed nice, but now that Logan was in space- actually in space!!- he wanted to stay alive to see as much as he could. Satisfied that there was no shouting or whatever other unpleasant noises aliens made, he opened the door and followed directions to where Janus had said the cafeteria would be.

Sure enough, all five other crew mates sat at an oddly shaped table, eating… something.

It looked like a cross between oatmeal and toast, neither of which Logan found particularly appetizing (unless the toast had jelly on it, of course), yet the smell was somewhat nice.

The aliens (should Logan keep referring to them as that? He was, after all, in space, so it was really him that was the alien, wasn’t it?) looked up from their meal and greeted him.

“Logan! Hi!” Patton waved.

“Logan. How did you sleep?” Janus stood.

“Very well, thank you,” Logan replied, now realizing that his hair must look like a mess and hastily trying to tame his bed head.

“Here,” Janus handed Logan a bowl of the foodstuff with a spoon with his middle left arm, which Logan accepted hesitantly. “I know it doesn’t look great, but trust me. You’ll be fine. I don’t know what it will taste like to you, but I do know that it’s very nutritious.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows as he sat down. “Alright,” Logan picked up the spoon and took a bite.

Eyes widening, he realized that it tasted exactly like strawberry Crofter’s.

“Woah,” Logan looked at Janus. “What is this?”

Janus chuckled. “Would you like the simple version or the scientific one?”

“Scientific, please.”

“Well, it’s a dehydrated compound of vegetation native to a planet in the Andromeda galaxy, specifically engineered to taste like whatever you find most pleasant, as well as being high in nutrients, which makes it ideal for long journeys.”

Logan nodded, taking another bite. “So...where is it, exactly, that we’re going?”

“Well!” Janus clapped all six of his hands together. “That’s what we were discussing. So, ah, Logan, I probably should have briefed you on this before we left your planet, but you see, we aren’t exactly the most, shall we say, legal group of travelers.”

“So- so you’re space criminals?”

“More or less,” Janus gestured.

Logan thought for a minute. “Alright then.”

“Is that it? “Alright then?””

“Well, I will finally be fulfilling the popular slang saying of ‘be gay, do crime,’ so yes. Alright then. Although, I am curious. What are the laws in space? How do you break them? What are the punishments? What kind of crimes do you all commit? Tax fraud? Embezzlement? Murder? Or- does tax fraud even exist outside of earth? Are there even taxes in space?”

“Well, you seem very excited about the prospect of crime, which is a little surprising, but-”

Janus was cut off by Remus jumping up on the table and pointing to Logan. “I like this one!”

Patton, Roman, and Virgil nodded in agreement.

“Well, Logan,” Patton grinned. “You know why we only steal donuts?”

“What?”

“Because the case is full of holes.”

“Oh my gosh,” Logan groaned. “I am genuinely asking what kind of crimes I’m getting into. Janus, what kind of crime?”

“Smuggling, mostly,” Janus put a hand up to stop another pun from Patton. “There are a bunch of laws about what you can have and how you can get it, so we tend to… shall we say, help people bypass paperwork.”

Logan nodded. “As long as there’s nothing on here that will kill me, I am absolutely for it. Governments are shit, quite honestly.”

The members of the Silver Serpent nodded in agreement as they finished their food.

“I’ll give you the grand tour,” Janus stood up and offered a hand to Logan.

Janus showed him the engine room, the navigation center, the sleeping quarters, and the medical bay, though any hidden doorways or false floors were carefully avoided. “A need to know basis,” Janus explained.

It took a few days of being on the ship for Logan to really understand where he was. Space! With aliens!

One of his big fantasies as a child was going to the moon, but now? Now, he had not only seen the moon’s craters out the window, but he was also outside of his galaxy. He was away from earth, away from his parents, away from all the problems he had on earth of unemployment and poverty and homophobia and transphobia.

But here on the ship? The only problems he had were the loud clacking of Virgil’s spider-y legs on the hard metal floor or the slime secreted off Remus’s tentacle appendages. These minor inconveniences were a huge step up from earth.

#logan sanders #janus sanders #loceit #space au #alien au #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic

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rindemption · 3 years

Note

Cracks knuckles

A.4, C.1, D.1, G.4, J.5, L.1, N.3+4, R.5, T.2, V.4, Z.1

Please and thank you 💜😙

Thank you! 😚💛

From the ABCs of your OCs

A.4: what things are they bad at?

He's actually really bad at opening up to people. Which may be a shock to some; what may seem like opening up is one of the more shallow layers of his emotions and personality. He's terrified of being seen as weak or vulnerable or undesirable, and so he keeps a lot of his thoughts and emotions to himself and tries to only present what he thinks people will accept. When in a situation where he has to open up or when he gets caught unable to keep a mask up, it gets very obvious how raw that moment is.

C.1: how do they sit in a chair?

Hardly ever "correctly". At best he'll have a leg tucked up underneath him, or leaning more in the corner of the chair than sitting upright. On bigger chairs he'll outright curl up on them, sit sideways. The only time he sits right is when he knows he has to, or there's no conceivable way to sit on it wrong without trying way too hard. Even he has his limits.

D.1: how would they decorate a house if they had one under their name?

Not as cluttered as his personality might lead to believe. Nick-knacks tend to gather dust he doesn't like, so only things of sentimental value or items that really catch his eye. There would be a few novelty items that serve no purpose other than looking nice, but not many, and kept visible but out of the way. Pops of color here and there: a bright painting, a fluffy blanket that stands out against the neutral furniture, a sunshine yellow coffee mug. Most stuff would be things he uses though, although if he can find an item with a cool design he'll go for that; like a coat rack that looks like a tree. Useful, but fun.

G.4: what parts of them do they like and dislike?

He really likes his freckles. They tend to catch people's eyes, and he likes the attention. He won't get tattoos entirely because he doesn't want to cover them up. There's not anything appearance wise that he outright dislikes. If he doesn't like it he's indifferent about it. It's his body; it holds his insides and his brain, and it keeps him alive. The least he can do is not hate it.

J.5: what brings them the most joy in the world?

Being around people he loves and cares about. And that's not me being sappy, that's the truth. If he ever has to be away from people for a long period of time he gets depressed. And more than just an extrovert not getting any social interaction. So when he's around people he's happy, and when he's around people he loves he's happiest. Being able to check in on them and take care of them and be with them.

L.1: what is their favorite fruit?

Oranges. I'll not elaborate.

N.3: is there anything they absolutely can’t believe people do?

He can't believe people cheat on people. If you want to be with someone else, leave the person you're with. If you want to be with both of them, talk to them about it. You might have to make a choice (and neither is a valid option if you can't pick one over the other). But going behind your partner's back? Betraying the trust of someone you claim to love and care about? It's completely incomprehensible to him.

N.4: what is the most embarrassing thing they’ve done?

In middle school he was really really into climbing shit. Still is, but it was so much worse. Well, the auditorium had these really cool looking support beams across the ceiling, and they looked like fun to climb. Somehow this kid got up onto the basketball hoop, and managed to successfully kick off of the wall just high enough to reach the beams. It was a blast! Unfortunately after he had his fun climbing around he realized he couldn't get down without potentially breaking a leg. He had to hang out until a janitor walked into the room, and the local fire department had to get him down. He laughs about it now, but being reprimanded by several adults at once was not a great experience.

R.5: do they find any rules they/others follow absolutely ridiculous?

He's banned from cooking in the house without supervision, and he has no idea why he listens. What are they going to do? Develop a sixth sense for when he's cooking and come storming home to tell him to stop? But he still doesn't.

T.2: can they tell if someone is lying?

This is a bit iffy. He can, the problem is, he very much wants to be trusting of people, and he takes himself as anxious, so he tends to shrug off the signs as his mind overreacting. If the warning bells are really going off he listens, but the little signs he tries to ignore, give them the benefit of the doubt. It's bitten him in the ass a few times.

V.4: what do they like as far as comfort goes?

If he's actively sick, he doesn't want people around to see it. A distaste of being seen weak and helpless. He's really gotta trust someone for them to see him that way, otherwise he'll hole up in his room and take care of himself. If he's just not feeling great, normally a bad mental day, he'll seek out physical comfort like cuddling or at least a hug from someone he trusts.

Z.1: what’s their favorite animal?

He's very fond of domestic dogs, especially the bigger ones. There's no breed in particular he likes, just dogs in general. He wants one if he was ever in a position to care for a pet, but so far he hasn't felt like the time is right.

#oc ask game #ask game #nathan v.#so many questions!#I had to come up with things for some of them #his childhood is a vague experience I have no idea what he got up to.#about the oc: nathan

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(未定事件簿) 莫弈 SR [松雪童话] [Tears of Themis] Mo Yi SR [Snowy Pine Fairytales] Card Story Translations (Part 1)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mo Yi’s Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Check out Chapter 1 of Mo Yi’s Private Story here!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / SMS

Location: Country Villa

MC: It nothing but snow as far as the eye could see the entire way here. This place’s snow really does make it live up to its name. It looks very simple and minimalistic, but it really brings out the vibe of the place.

MC: And this villa’s been completely furnished with wooden furniture.

Mo Yi and I were currently stood inside a magnificent villa. I surveyed the furnishings around us, unconsciously breathing out a sigh of appreciation.

MC: This is all thanks to you, Dr. Mo! And of course, your generous friend who was willing to lend us his villa!

Mo Yi: It’s great that you like it. I’ll pass your gratitude on to him.

MC: Yeah! It’s brilliant that we can spend Christmas here!

Mo Yi: Let’s go look around later and pick up a suitable Christmas tree along the way.

MC: Sure, sure! I can’t wait!!

The place we are in right now isn’t Stellis City, but the outskirts of another City, located a couple hundred kilometers away from it.

Mo Yi was here to attend a seminar on Child Psychology, and had invited me to come along with him.

And as to the reason why, well, we’ll have to go back to a month prior.

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MC: Looks like the snow has already stopped, Dr. Mo.

Mo Yi: You don’t sound very happy about that. Do you find it sad that it has?

MC: Quite. Stellis City doesn’t see much snow and we’ve only gotten some light snowfall this time too.

MC: I want to see a heavier snowfall. Better yet, one so heavy that I can build a snowman.

Mo Yi: Judging from this year’s weather forecast, it’ll be quite hard to make snowmen in Stellis City.

Mo Yi: But perhaps it may be possible somewhere else.

MC: Where?

Mo Yi: I will be out of town next month for a seminar. That place has snow all-year-round regardless of winter hits; I’m sure it’ll be to your liking.

Mo Yi: The date where the seminar’s taking place happens to be close to Christmas, so you can spend it over there. Just treat it as a short vacation.

Mo Yi: How about it? Interested to check it out?

MC: A white Christmas sounds pretty nice!

MC: Let’s go check it out together, Dr. Mo!

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And that was how I came here together with him.

After the seminar, he had enlisted the help of his friend, who had managed to provide us with an unused villa where we could spend Christmas at.

After putting my luggage aside, I hurried out the door to see the snow.

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Location: Country Woods

MC: So, there's actually this big of a pine forest near the villa!

Mo Yi: From what I know of it, there are many different species of pine growing here, and it's very famous for how scenic the snow-capped pine trees are.

Mo Yi pointed to one of the big trees to the side. I looked all around, only to see trees with ramrod straight trunks and layered canopy of leaves, stacking atop one another like layers of a pyramid.

Pure white snow was dusted in between the green of the leaves, making it an absolutely beautiful sight to behold.

Mo Yi: Of course, the same species of pine that's often used as Christmas trees are also among these trees here.

I raised my eyes. The spectacular sea of trees before me was all I could see. The many different varieties of pine were all shaped differently, each standing tall and unique, making them an absolutely breath-taking sight to behold.

However, As someone who doesn't research much into Christmas trees, I didn't actually know where I should even start looking…

MC: Dr. Mo? Um, are there any conditions when it comes to choosing a Christmas tree? Like, how big or small it should be? It's color? Or maybe something related to its shape and the like?

MC: All these trees look almost the same in my eyes...

Mo Yi: There aren't any particular conditions to speak of, but generally speaking, the larger the base of the tree and the lusher its leaves, the better it'll look once it's decorated.

Mo Yi: But this is merely a suggestion. It’s a Christmas tree especially for you after all, so you can just choose whichever one that catches your fancy.

Heeding his words, I walked into the Forest, closely surveying the trees it had to offer.

MC: Hmm, this one’s way too big and this one’s still not green enough...

MC: Ah, ahh―! What is that!?

Suddenly, something flashed before my eyes; it kind of looked like a shadow, zipping through the line of trees.

The next moment, I felt a weight land atop my head.

???: Squeak, squeaaak―—

Mo Yi: ……

I tried reaching up to touch whatever it was, only for my hand to brush against something small, furry and so very warm...

Mo Yi: There’s no need to be afraid. It’s just a squirrel.

MC: A… A squirrel?

As if answering Mo Yi, the squirrel jumped a couple of times on my head, as if trying to prove its presence there.

Mo Yi: Don't move; I'll get it down for you.

Mo Yi: Come, slowly. Come here.

Those words of his weren’t directed at me, but to the squirrel on my head.

There seemed to be some sort of magical property to his voice, for I felt the weight lift off my head, as if something had just jumped down from it right after.

He carefully ran his hands through my hair. It was only after he had ascertained that I was unharmed, that his countenance returned back to his usual self.

Mo Yi: Great, looks like you’re not injured either.

I heaved a sigh of relief before I finally had the mind to look at the little "culprit". Turns out, it really was a squirrel; a tan-colored one.

It was currently perched atop Mo Yi's palm, it's sparkling black eyes glancing left and right, sizing us, strangers, up.

MC: It’s really a squirrel… It really scared me when it leapt out like that earlier.

MC: But it's actually pretty cute, now that I’ve gotten a closer look at it.

Mo Yi: Look, it's wearing a ribbon on its neck. Seems like it’s a pet.

Mo Yi: Maybe it ran off?

MC: You're right… The owner of this squirrel must be quite worried upon finding it gone. Dr. Mo, let's bring it with us and search for its owner as soon as possible.

Mo Yi: Yes, it hasn't gotten much snow onto it's pelt, so it probably hasn't been long since it ran out on its owner. The owner might be nearby, for all we know.

Thus, we proceeded to try finding its owner nearby. However, we didn't manage more than a couple of steps before a voice yelled at us to halt.

???: Stop right there, both of you! Return Demon King back to me.

I curiously turned my head to see a little boy around the age of 10 vehemently glaring at us.

His round face was flushed from the cold, and even though he still possessed the innocence of childhood, it was tinged with the indifference and annoyance he expressed.

Little Boy: Hey, did you not hear me? Hurry and return Demon King to me.

MC: D-Demon King?

Mo Yi: Is Demon King it’s name, little buddy?

Mo Yi smiled, pointing towards the squirrel on his shoulder.

MC: (It's obviously a squirrel, yet it's called "Demon King"; is this what they call gap moe…?)

Demon King: Squeak, squeak―—

Upon seeing the little boy, the docile squirrel suddenly bounded down as quick as lightning, burrowing itself into the gap of his coat.

The boy reached out to pat the squirrel on its head, his eyes softening as he did.

Little Boy: Demon King's answering you; it says yes.

MC: (He’s… Translating what the squirrel’s saying?)

I pondered over it as I surveyed the area, yet I didn't see any adults that might be his parents around the premises.

MC: (Appearing in the snowy mountains with only a squirrel in tow? He's really no ordinary kid.)

MC: What’s your name, little buddy? Can you tell us where your home is? We’ll send you back.

Little Boy: ……

He shot me a look before turning and running off without even so much as a reply.

MC: ...Dr. Mo, there’s nothing but snow everywhere, and I’m kind of worried about him being all alone out here, so let’s follow him.

Mo Yi: Okay, let’s follow his footsteps so that we don’t lose him.

We headed in the same direction that the boy fled, chasing after him; but he was too fast for us, so all we could do was to resign ourselves to watch his retreating back.

The squirrel named "Demon King" perched upon his shoulder, occasionally turning back to look at us, seemingly watching this "race" with great interest.

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We took a good many turns before a small village appeared before our eyes.

The houses of the village were scattered throughout the snowy grounds of the pine forest, but the little boy had disappeared without a trace.

Mo Yi: He might be a villager from here.

Mo Yi: I've previously heard my friend mention that there was a village called "Snowy Pine" near the snowy mountains. Looks like this is the place.

MC: Snowy Pine Village? So it really does exist.

Just as he had said that, I spotted a road sign that stated "Snowy Pine Village"; I suppose it also served as a nameplate for the entrance of the village.

MC: Logically speaking, that kid won't be facing any danger now that he's back in the village...

MC: But we should still go into the village and check for ourselves, just to be safe.

I looked around inside of the village. It seemed very quiet, with not many people pedestrians out on the streets.

MC: We don't know which house he went into, and it's not like we can just go around house-to-house knocking on their doors either…

Mo Yi: This village isn't big, so the villagers should probably know each other quite well. So, you don't really have to be worrying his safety.

Mo Yi: But since we're already here, how about we do some stuff you want to do and go back a little later?

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Location: Country Woods

Mo Yi: But since we're already here, how about we do some stuff you want to do and go back a little later?

MC: Huh?

Mo Yi: While chasing after the child earlier, I saw that there was a small open-space area by the road which should be very suitable for building snowmen.

Mo Yi: Haven't you always wanted to build a snowman?

Just now? I was completely focused on the little boy earlier that I didn't pay any attention to my surroundings at all…

MC: I won't forgive myself if I miss out on an opportunity to build a snowman! Let's head over there and take a look!

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We followed the path we took to come here and backtracked until we arrived at the location where Mo Yi was talking about.

It was an open space where the snow had piled on thick, the pure white snow sparkling brightly under the sun's rays.

MC: Awesome! I want to build a gigantic snowman!!

Stepping into the soft snow, my mood immediately shifted into one of giddy excitement.

I rubbed my palms together in anticipation, only to see that Mo Yi had already gotten a step ahead of me. He reached out, grabbed a handful of snow, and lifted it up.

Mo Yi: It's such a rare opportunity, so let's build one together.

I saw him undo the buttons on his windbreaker, letting it hang to the ground as he started to shape a ball of snow in his hands rather seriously.

His expression was one of utter focus. He was so intent on what he was doing that he failed to notice that the hem of his clothes was dragging on the snow.

MC: Dr. Mo, your clothes—!

Mo Yi: It's fine. You'll lose the fun of playing in the snow if you're too conscious about whether or not you're getting your clothes dirty.

Saying so, he patted a complete snowball into shape.

Mo Yi: We should pile the base on like this first, add another freshly rolled ball up on it… And it’ll slowly start taking shape.

Mo Yi: Hurry and come on here, (Y/n).

MC: Dr. Mo...

Mo Yi: What? You aren't coming?

MC: I suddenly feel like you're not really being your usual self, but when I think more about it, I realize that you aren't actually all that different from before.

Mo Yi: Hm? And how am I to understand that?

MC: Building a snowman doesn’t look like an activity you’d participate in, but if you think of it as creating a work of art...

MC: Then, building a snowman suits someone like you to a T!

Mo Yi: How about you, then? Are you willing to make a "work of art" together with me?

MC: It would be my pleasure!

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After working on it in full swing for a while, all the snowman was missing was a nose “to dot the eyes of a painted dragon in”, as the saying goes.

I found a pinecone in the pine forest nearby and brought it back while Mo Yi worked on placing the finishing touches onto the snowman.

MC: Dr. Mo...

His pale forehead was slightly beaded with sweat, his usually neat and untouched hair hanging in slight disarray.

A stray strand fell in front of his forehead, but he was so fixated on fixing up the snowman’s facial features that he appeared to have not noticed it at all.

MC: (He's really quite different from his usual self when he's like this…)

MC: (But it must be rather uncomfortable, since it's rather easy for the stray strand of hair to get in the way of his sight.)

With that in mind, I instinctively reached out towards him, helping him push the stray strand of hair, tucking it back to the side.

Mo Yi: …….!

Mo Yi's hand froze in its movements upon feeling my touch.

MC: Okay, it won't be getting into your eyes anymore now.

Mo Yi: You...

Faced with his warm, gentle gaze, I suddenly realized what I had just done.

MC: Sorry, Dr. Mo, I just—

Just, what? It was as if I was tongue-tied, unable to continue the rest of my sentence no matter much time passed.

Mo Yi: Thank you, I never noticed that my hair had mussed itself up.

MC: You're welcome...

I had thought that I'd tide over the embarrassment of what had just transpired with that, but never would I have thought...

Mo Yi: Still, why is your face so red?

MC: !!!

▷Choice: It's because I was active

MC: It’s probably because I was running around quite a bit searching for the pinecone just now, so my temperature shot up...

Mo Yi: Tie your scarf tighter around your neck, least you catch a cold after sweating and being exposed to the cold winds.

MC: Y-Yes, it's a little cold...

Mo Yi: Pass me the pinecone, I'll put it on the snowman.

Mo Yi had finally stopped “digging” into the matter, and I inwardly heaved a sigh of relief.

But his earlier question, paired with that look he gave me had deeply imprinted itself in my mind, and I... Pretty much knew what he was hoping for. But, it's just that…

I just didn’t know how to answer him.

Mo Yi: Some things are just like building a snowman; do it one step at a time, there's no need to rush.

Mo Yi: I'll patiently wait for you, until you find the right pinecone that best fits this snowman.

MC: Yeah, okay.

▷Choice: It’s just the different lighting

The gears in my head started turning at breakneck speed, finally coming up with an answer that even I thought flawless.

MC: My face is red? ...Actually, your face is actually a little red too.

MC: I think it’s because the light reflects off a snowy ground differently, so our skin tones appear different from usual.

Mo Yi: The lighting? That sounds reasonable enough, but I’ve never witnessed anything like this happening before.

MC: It’s probably because...

MC: (I can’t keep up this lie anymore no matter how I try to fib...)

I lowered my eyes, avoiding those golden eyes of his that one would easily find themselves absorbed by.

The hope within those eyes of his… I saw it; I did, but I haven't yet thought about how I should go around answering it…

Mo Yi: I’m guessing that your temperature increased because you were running around looking for pinecones back in the forest just now.

Mo Yi: Tie your scarf tighter around your neck, least you catch a cold after sweating and being exposed to the cold winds.

In my panic, Mo Yi had found the most appropriate explanation for me. I inwardly let out a sigh of relief.

MC: Yeah, that seems to be the case.

Mo Yi: Pass me the pinecone, I'll put it on the snowman.

After “settling” the pinecones on the snowman’s round head, our creation was finally brought to a successful completion.

MC: It’s finished! You have most of the credit for this snowman!

Mo Yi: Rather than comparing who contributed more to it, I’d rather call it a collective masterpiece.

MC: I honestly never thought that you’d be willing to play around with me like that. I thought you’d think me childish for wanting to do that.

Mo Yi: I don’t think it’s childish at all. Plus… I’m not just playing along with you, I’m also very happy about this, personally.

Mo Yi’s expression turned serious.

Mo Yi: We also had heavy snowfall back in my country, and building snowmen was one of the things that children enjoyed.

MC: So… Did you build them with your little friends back then too?

Mo Yi: Yes, I suppose I have.

MC: You suppose?

Mo Yi: I didn’t have many friends of the same age who were able to play with me when I was young.

Mo Yi: Laughing from the bottom of my heart while building a snowman, that was also a somewhat rare luxury for me back then.

Mo Yi: Hence, every chance I get to enjoy the simple things, like building a snowman, is a precious and treasured experience of mine.

MC: Is that so...

MC: Then let’s retain this snowman forever!

Saying so, I took out my phone and sought for the right angle, snapping a photo of our “collective masterpiece”, I immediately sent him a copy.

MC: I’ve sent it to you, Dr. Mo. I’ve snapped quite a few pictures of it, so you can pick and see which one is to your liking.

He looked at the picture, laughing lightly.

Mo Yi: Thank you, I’ll treasure it.

After that, we ended up building many other things aside from the snowman. For example, small houses, little animals, and the like…

The snow completely relieved me of the stress that I had in my life. This was also a very precious experience to me, just like how it was to him.

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It was only until we got closer to the villa that we saw the little boy from before again.

The only difference was that he appeared very frantic, as if he’d just met some trouble.

MC: What’s wrong, little buddy? Did something happen again?

Little Boy: Demon King! I can't find Demon King! Can you guys help me find him?

MC: Demon King… Did it run off again?

Little Boy: Yeah, but it’s not the same this time! It's never disappeared for so long, and I’ve looked everywhere, but I can’t find him...

Little Boy: Demon King doesn’t hate you guys, so could you help me find it?

Mo Yi bent down to meet the boy’s eye-level.

Mo Yi: First, don’t panic. You’re much more familiar with it than us, so could you bring us to the places it always goes off to play?

Little Boy: No, I can’t go.

Little Boy: My granny has a bad leg, so I can’t go too far…

The little boy hung his head, his voice so filed with grief that he looked was on the verge of tears.

Little Boy: Demon King can’t be without me, else it’d get itself hurt...

MC: ...Don’t cry, little buddy. We’ll agree to help you find it.

The boy appeared to have grasped onto a glimmer of hope after hearing what I’d said.

He reached into his pocket and produced an old wooden whistle, hoarsely passing it to me.

Little Boy: Blow on this whistle and call Demon King by it’s name; he’ll come then.

I took the whistle from him, nodding my head in attention. Mo Yi stood at one side, patiently asking the boy questions.

Mo Yi: Then, do you know where it likes to go? For example, where should we go, so that we can meet it?

The boy thought for a while before pointing behind our villa.

Little Boy: Demon King and I often go behind this big house to play.

Little Boy: Just bring it to Snowy Pine Village when you find it! Gran and I live right there!

Mo Yi gently patted his head.

Mo Yi: Got it. We’ll help you look for Demon King, so hurry on back and look after your grandmother.

Little Boy: Okay, it’s a promise then! My house is the one right in front; I’ll be waiting for you!

The boy pointed to us where his house was located before hurriedly running back. However, he hadn’t taken more than two steps before he turned back again and shouted.

Little Boy: You must bring Demon King back, okay?

MC: Got it!

The boy finally left for real this time after receiving affirmation from me. Watching his retreating figure, I still felt a little worried.

MC: Dr. Mo, he said that he had to take care of his grandmother...

Mo Yi: Are you trying to say that he’s a child that’s been left behind?

MC: Yes. Based on what he said, it’s possible that there’s only him and an elderly member of the family back home.

Mo Yi: Let’s go look for Demon King first. We’ll still have to go to his house and have a look after we’ve found it.

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Location: Country Woods

After parting with the boy, the both of us headed into the forest to look for Demon King. This particular forest was very dense, and adding on the fact that it was snowing, it made it very hard for us to distinguish one thing from another.

In the end, as unfamiliar with the forest as we were, we spent half the day searching, yet we didn’t see so much as a squirrel’s shadow.

MC: Demon King―— Demon King―—

I held the small whistle tightly in my grip, blowing and yelling out its name at the same time; but no matter how many times I tried, there wasn’t a single response.

MC: We’ve already searched everywhere; just where has it gone…

Mo Yi: Pass it to me, let me try.

Saying so, Mo Yi smoothly took the whistle from my hands and gently blew on it.

And with this, that was how the melodious, yet crisp sound of a whistle reverberated through the snowy pine forest at a pace that was neither too fast, nor too slow.

Once, twice… Another moment passed, but Demon King never appeared, making me feel even more worried.

MC: Dr. Mo, is Demon King… not here yet?

Mo Yi: Let’s wait for a little while more. I believe he’ll come.

After another whistle, I noticed a cluster of pine branches shaking, and part of the snow that had rested on the branches falling along with it.

MC: Doc…

Mo Yi placed his index finger in front of his lips, signaling for me to not make a sound, probably so that I wouldn’t spook our little visitor.

I waited with bated breath. A few seconds later, a small figure emerged from among the trees, only to disappear just as quickly a split-second later.

MC: ……

I was attempting to look for it when Mo Yi’s voice sounded by my ear right at the same time.

Mo Yi: Look, (Y/n)——

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I turned around at the sound, only to see a small squirrel squatted on his hand, boldly looking back and forth.

Said squirrel wore a familiar-looking red ribbon around its neck. No way, isn’t that Demon King!?

MC: Oh! Demon King! That's great—

Demon King: Squeak, squeak, squeak!

Before the sound of my words had faded away, a small clump of snow suddenly fell from the pine branches that it had disturbed earlier with a muffled “thump”.

Demon King immediately stood up, ever-so vigilantly, as if it was going to flee yet again.

MC: Don't—

Just as I was stuck as to what the best course of action would be, Mo Yi acted quickly, swiftly calming Demon King down.

Mo Yi: It's okay, don't be scared. It's me, I won't hurt you.

Mo Yi: You friend has waited very long for you; he told us to come bring you back home in his stead.

Mo Yi: How about coming back together with us if you've had your share of fun, hm?

MC: (He's… Talking to the squirrel?)

───⋅𝕿𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊…⋆⋅☆

#Tears of Themis #Mo Yi #Translations #Otome #Mihoyo #未定事件簿 #莫弈 #松雪童话 #Snowy Pine Fairytales #缤纷乐游会 #Xmas Partyland #Tears of a Psychiatrist

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iwritesickfic · 4 years

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perfect, part 1

“You don’t look well,” Bo says, and Dell waves a hand in dismissal.

“I look fine.” he slides into the car next to the younger man and the driver starts off before the door is even closed.

“Ok, you look fine, but I can tell...” He trails off, and Dell laughs softly. Even under the weather he looks lovely. It’d be very hard to tell if you didn’t see him everyday, but because he does, Bo notices every bit that’s off. he’s considerably paler, and his eyes are red rimmed like they are when he hasn’t gotten any sleep. His lips are chapped, and the way he keeps touching his septum with his knuckle is evidence something’s wrong.

All that said, he looks otherwise immaculate. His shirt is ironed and crisp as normal, his curls are brushed the way they always are, he’s clean shaven and obnoxiously punctual.

“What can you tell?” He asks, teasing, and Bo sighs, glancing again at the driver. He lowers his voice.

“That you’re ill.” Dell smirks.

“And what does my being ill matter?” He doesn’t bother lowering his voice. Bo sighs.

“It matters because you probably need some rest and some tea and a day off instead of running around-” Dell cuts him short.

“Do I have time for a day off?” Bo frowns. They absolutely don’t. It’s been only a few weeks since Dell’s mother, reigning queen of their tiny, forgotten, european country announced her decision to step down. Which meant Dell, the royal family’s only son, would be king. And for Bo, the personal assistant hired by his mother, meant an extreme uptick in the amount of things he needed to manage per day.

“We could -”

“Don’t say we could work something out. We can’t work something out. This week is busy and we’re not cancelling everything just because you’re under the impression I have a cold.” Dell seems completely unwilling to keep the conversation between just the two of them, so Bo stops keeping his voice low.

“I’m under the impression?”

“Have I said I don’t feel well?” Bo sighs.

“No.”

“So it remains to be seen.”

The truth is that Dell doesn’t need an assistant. At least not one that rides with him to appointments and is constantly within five feet. Dell needs someone who will answer his emails, not someone to babysit him. Especially not someone a year and half younger. He’s been cordial but it’s clear he doesn’t really enjoy Bo’s presence. He’s not condescending or anything, he just seems to get a lot of fun out of joking and teasing and sarcasm.

“Just trying to be nice,” Bo says, and Dell gives an almost sad smile.

“Your job isn’t to be nice to me or ask if I’m ill, Bowen. It’s to make sure I get to the places I need to be to do my job. The concern is very kind but it’s not necessary.”

Bo wants to argue, but he won’t. He’s not concerned because he thinks it’s necessary. He’s concerned because over the past two months he’s grown to actually care about him. He won’t say that though, because though Dell would probably just find it funny there’s a major possibility that someone up the chain of command would find it unprofessional. Also, he doesn’t need to give Dell any more ammunition for teasing.

So, they go about the day as normal, Dell being his normally charming self through meetings and lunch and meetings and dinner while Bo sits a few feet to the left, taking notes or answering emails or trying to look occupied. The most awkward hour of the day is when Bo is forced to sit in on Dell’s meal with his girlfriend. He’s seated a table away, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still Bo’s job to eavesdrop on them.

By the end of the day, back in the car to the palace, Dell looks considerably worse. As much as he can look worse. He’s started to sniffle, and he’s definitely more pale than he was this morning. The most worrisome thing is that he’s started to shiver. Bo doesn’t mention it.

They part ways, Bo headed to his small apartment on the palace grounds, Dell headed to a likely gorgeous private wing decorated with art that costs more than Bo’s salary.

The next morning Dell looks worse - his eyes are still bleary, and even in a thick sweater he’s shivering. His nose is a little pink, and he’s carrying a travel packet of tissues when he climbs into the car. It’s a rainy March morning, warm enough to keep snow at bay but cold enough to be unpleasant.

“Should I -” Dell cuts him off, his voice sounding a bit deeper and raspier than normal.

“No, it’s fine. I can manage.” He gives the younger man one of signature charming smiles and Bo feels something in his chest melt a little bit. He tries to shove it down. He should not feel this way about his boss. His straight, taken, totally-out-of-his-league boss. Still, Dell seems to sense his nerves. “Something’s wrong?” He asks, still smirking. Bo feels his cheeks heat.

“No, nothing.” He forces a little smile before burying his face back into his phone, pretending to write an email.

“What’s on the schedule?” Bo’s grateful to have something concrete to focus on.

“Uh, the garden dedication. Oh, shit.” Dell standing out in the cold drizzle for an hour and a half is not going to be good. They’ve got umbrellas but the cold is bad enough on its own. “We could try -”

“It’s ok,” he gestures to his coat and scarf, “I’m prepared for it.”

“But...” Bo bites his lip.

“You’re worried I’ll catch my death?” Dell teases, and Bo rolls his eyes.

“That’d be a blessing.”

“Then who would bother you all day?”

“I’m sure you’d find a way.

“Right I would.”

Despite all of Dell’s protests, after about five minutes of standing outside for the ceremony he looks miserable. At least Bo can tell he’s miserable. To anyone else he probably looks fairly normal, apart from constantly wiping his nose. It’s baffling how everything he does he manages to make look polite and charming and sophisticated.

When the event is over, Bo can see the relief in Dell’s entire posture. That is until his mother approaches them.

“Bowen we won’t be needing you for the rest of the day. Consider it some paid time off.”

Bo’s eyebrows furrow but before he can say anything Dell speaks up.

“Why is that?” He seems tense again, though Bo isn’t sure why. Truthfully he’d much rather spend a day following Dell around than home alone watching television, even more so because it’s clear Dell’s walking the line between a cold and something worse. And Bo is well aware no one but him gives a damn about how Dell actually feels.

“There’s no need, you’ll be with us the rest of the day.”

Dell looks like he wants to argue but he just gives a polite smile. He gives Bo a little nod.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bo hesitates, he wants to object, wants to insist he stay, but he doesn’t. He just nods and takes the car back to the palace, changing out of his semi-damp clothes and into some sweats. The rest of the day passes slowly, and he decides that at 8:30, he’s going to Dell’s room with some tea. He shouldn’t be so worried, but he is, and the only way to get his mind to stop racing is just to confirm that Dell is in fact doing just fine.

At 8:25 he grabs the thermos of tea and sets off toward Dell’s bedroom. He’s been here a few times, mostly on mornings when they can’t wait until they get in the car to talk logistics, but never for any kind of personal reason. He’s not really sure if it’s allowed, but he’ll take the chance.

When he finally arrives to the door it takes him a minute to gather the courage to knock. The door opens slowly to reveal Dell in an oversized t shirt and boxers, flushed and shimmering with sweat, his curls stringy and limp. Bo’s never even seen him in a shirt without buttons, let alone boxers and a t shirt. The room is freezing, Bo can feel it seeping out into the hallway. Dell looks mildly confused, his eyes half lidded.

“Is there something we need to talk about?” His voice is hoarse and broken in places, some of the sounds rounded from congestion. He sniffles wetly.

“No, I uh...” Bo is so taken aback he’s having a hard time formulating a sentence. “I brought some tea.” He holds it out sort of awkwardly, and Dell takes it, cracking a small smile. They stand there in silence for a few moments, and Bo swears he can see the older man swaying on his feet. One of his hands rests on the door frame.

“That’s all?” He asks, and the teasing tone in his voice is apparent. Evidently Dell is never ill enough to let Bo off the hook.

“Yeah, I guess. I mostly wanted to see how your cold was.”

“Worried about me?” He asks, still smiling, and Bo rolls his eyes. he’s about to reply when Dell breaks into a fit of coughs. They sound like they come from deep in his chest, like they hurt. By the time he’s done he’s trembling, all the color gone from his face. “Before you ask, yes, I feel awful.”

“Can I come in?” The words slip out before Bo has a chance to hold them back. Dell raises his eyebrows.

“You wanna come in?”

“Uh, no, I-um, I ju-” Bo mumbles before Dell cuts him off.

“No, it’s fine. Yeah, come in. Sorry, it’s a little bit much.”

Bo hesitantly steps inside and Dell closes the door. Bo’s never actually been inside any of the core royal family member’s suites. The lights are off and the curtains are drawn, but when Dell flips on a lamp Bo’s able to get a decent look.

the room is massive, and though the furniture looks undoubtedly expensive, it doesn’t look how Bo expected it to. It’s more modern and minimal than he anticipated. It doesn’t really match the aesthetics of the rest of the room - the marble floor, intricate wallpaper, fancy wood working all scream excess while all the furniture though obviously well made is understated.

There’s a sitting area with a television, a huge bed, and what appears to be an equally massive bathroom and closet. One of the windows is open, which explains the cold, and Dell waves him over to where he’s sitting on the couch. He sits gingerly, and Dell gives a weary smile.

“Now you know how the other half lives.”

“That’s not why I wanted to come in.” Dell just raises his eyebrows. “I wanted to just uh, make sure you’re alright.” Dell sighs and rubs his eyes. He sniffles.

“We’ve got tomorrow off, I’ll be fine. Just need some sleep.” He sniffles again, and wipes his red tinged nose with a tissue. Bo’s heart is pounding.

“You need more than sleep.” He has no idea where he’s getting all this courage. Dell smirks.

“And what do I need?”

“Well you’ve got a fever, clearly, and that cough sounds pretty bad. I don’t know if sleep will do it, especially considering the temperature in here.” Dell looks sort of impressed.

“You wanna look after me.” It’s not a question. Bo freezes.

“I mean...if you wanted somebody to -”

“Bowen, I’ll be honest with you.” Bo’s heart stops completely. “It’s been probably 15 years since I’ve had anyone look after me because I was sick. And even then, no one’s ever done it for free. And I’m pretty sure you know this isn’t part of your job. So my question is, why?”

A thousand thoughts are running through his head, but none of them seem quite right to say out loud. Because he has a desperate crush? Because he’s worried? Because his heart hurts thinking about him all alone sick as he is?

“I care about you. Even though you...hate me, I don’t wanna leave you all alone like this.” Dell laughs softly, and Bo feels his heart sink until he hears him speak.

“Why would you think I hate you?”

“It’s...it’s obvious.” Dell laughs again, this time breaking into a fit of coughs.

“Christ, Bo.” He shakes his head and pushes his hair off his face. His hands are shaking. “I don’t have the energy or the lung capacity to talk about this right now.” He’s takes an unsteady breath. “Listen, I would be...I would be so fucking grateful if you wanted to look after me. If you wanted to.”

For once, Bo doesn’t over think his answer.

“Of course I do.” Dell smiles and swallows hard.

“Thank you.” His voice is almost a whisper. Bo’s frozen for a few moments before he breaks their gaze.

“Have you taken anything?” Dell looks confused. “For the fever.”

“The fever?” Bo finally cracks a smile himself.

“I mean, I haven’t checked yet or anything but I think it’s safe to say you’ve got a fever.” He reaches out to test Dell’s forehead but pauses. “can I?”

“Go for it.”

The moment his palm connects with Dell’s overheated skin he winces. It’s worse than he was anticipating. The blonde is absolutely on fire. He tests his cheek, then again with the back of his hand.

“Your hands are freezing,” Dell mumbles, and Bo wants to push his damp curls out of his eyes but he just pulls his hand back. Dell seems almost disappointed.

“No, you’ve got a fever, it just feels like it. I’ve gotta get a thermometer though to see what exactly we’re dealing with. What else is....what’s going on? Other than the cough.”

“Head hurts. My nose is a fucking mess, too.” Bo hasn’t seen very much but even still he knows what Dell’s talking about. It’s red, peeling a bit around the base of his nostrils, and every few moments he gives a wet sniffle.

“Well you definitely need some ibuprofen. And water too, probably. And some tissues.”

“I think that’s a fair conclusion.” He shivers, and Bo gets up to close the window.

“Alright, well I’ll just go back -” Dell cuts him off.

“No, no, I’ve got everything. In the bathroom,” he says, slumped further on the couch, still shivering.

“Yeah?” Bo’s a bit surprised. It doesn’t seem like Dell would’ve ever had the need for a thermometer. Ibuprofen is a little easier to understand, but even then he can’t picture Dell ever needing any sort of help. Dell just nods, and Bo walks to the bathroom door, too aware of Dell’s eyes on him. He opens the medicine cabinet and though he’s not sure what he expected, it certainly wasn’t shelves of cold and flu remedies. Even more surprising is that they almost all look half-used.

“You getting lost in there?” Dell calls, and Bo snaps back to the current task, grabbing the thermometer and one of the few bottles of ibuprofen. When he steps back into the larger room, Dell’s slumped on the couch, wrapped in a heavy blanket.

Bo sits down on the coffee table in front of him and their knees touch. He fiddles with the thermometer for a moment before handing it to Dell, who places it under his tongue.

“You’ve got a lot of stuff in there,” he says after a few awkward moments of silence and Dell gives a tired smirk.

“Are you going to ask me about it or is that just an observation?” He says around the small device. Bo tries to backpedal.

“No, I’m - I was just...I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

“And why not?” Dell seems to find it funny, making Bo nervous.

“I don’t know, I guess -” Dell cuts him off.

“I don’t look like someone who gets sick very often?” He asks, and Bo swallows hard.

“Yeah, I mean I...” Bo tries to think of something that would indicate Dell’s lack of vulnerability. “You’re just always so perfect, I guess.” He almost regrets the words. Is it too obvious to call him perfect? The thermometer beeps before Dell can reply, and Bo’s glad. Well he’s glad until he sees the reading - 102.4. The worry must show on his face because Dell starts to speak.

“What is it?” His voice is so weary.

“102.4, that’s -” Dell cuts him off before he can finish.

“Not so bad. I could probably manage on my own if you don’t want to stay. I wouldn’t hold it against you,” he says, and while for a second Bo thinks it might be some weird guilt trip manipulation tactic, Dell looks completely genuine. Nonchalant even. Bo bites his lip, debating what his response should be. He’s pulled back to reality when Dell starts to sit up.

“Hey, it’s alright, what do you need?” He puts a hand on his shoulder, easing him back into the cushions. Dell looks confused.

“I was gonna grab some water,” he says, and Bo nods.

“Ok, just let me know I’ll get whatever you need.” He’s about to get up when he pauses. “Listen, if you were implying that you want me to leave, I definitely will, but trust me I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to be.”

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to work without pay,” he says, and Bo sighs.

“It’s not...I’m...” He doesn’t know how else to phrase it without just admitting he cares for him, and he decides it’s not the most pressing thing to address at the moment. “Whatever. Where’s -”

“The kitchen.” He nods toward an archway near the back of the room, and Bo nods.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.” He’s already in the small - yet somehow still expensive looking - kitchen when he hears Dell speak again.

“You don’t need to tell me you’ll be right back. I can make the assumption,” he calls, and Bo smiles. He’s a little shocked when he opens the fridge. He was expecting it to be empty - the royal family has a chef on staff - but it’s got a decent supply. It’s healthy food too, which makes Bo smile a bit as well. It’s exactly what he’d expect from Dell, it’s the perfection that seeps into everything he touches. There’s no beer, no half-empty ketchup, no old take out containers or anything that could be considered “dessert”. Even in this place where presumably no one but Dell should ever be, everything is perfect. He grabs a bottle of water and walks back into the main room.

“You cook a lot?” he asks, and Dell nods, taking the bottle. He manages to open it even though his hands are shaking. “I wouldn’t have guessed.” He takes a small sip.

“I guess I’m just a surprising person, hm?” Bo’s almost totally distracted from the matter at hand, but when he gets a better look at Dell’s appearance, he feels a small pang of worry in his chest. He’s really shivering, his cheeks are flushed and his breath is unsteady, his lips chapped from breathing through his mouth.

“Alright, time for ibuprofen.” He grabs the bottle and shakes two into his palm, passing them to Dell who downs them with a swig of water. He starts to cough right after, almost doubling over and burying his face in his sleeve. Bo’s anxious listening, they sound so desperate, trying so hard to expel the illness that sits so heavy in his chest, moving enough to make his cough sound deep and painful, but not enough to give any real relief.

When he’s finally done he’s almost hyper ventilating trying to catch his breath, and Bo wishes there was something he could do more than just sit and watch. He places a careful hand on Dell’s shoulder and hands him back the water, which Dell drinks eagerly. He lets out a shaky little laugh.

“Sorry, that’s so gross,” he says, his voice still a bit raw from the coughing fit. Bo frowns.

“It’s not, don’t worry about that.” Dell seems to relax a little beneath his hand, closing his eyes, and Bo uses to other to feel his forehead. He probably should’ve asked first, but Dell doesn’t seem to mind, letting out a small contented sigh. He’s really burning, Bo thinks it’s probably safe to say this is the worst fever he’s ever felt. He pulls his hand away. “I’m gonna grab something,” he says, and Dell nods, eyes still closed.

He grabs a washcloth from the bathroom and soaks it in cold water. He wringing out the excess when he hears Dell’s voice.

“Are you coming right back? You didn’t specify.”

“How can you be so sick and still have energy to tease me?” He asks, arriving back at the couch. He presses the washcloth to Dell’s forehead and he lets out a small sigh of relief, eyes fluttering shut.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and Bo moves it to the side of his throat.

“I haven’t used one of these in forever,” he mumbles, and Bo furrows his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” He flips the compress over, laying the cool side back on his forehead.

“They’re hard to use. You have to lay really still.” Bo decides it’s finally time to ask the question that’s been eating at him.

“You get sick a lot?” Dell opens his eyes, a little smile on his lips.

“What gave you that idea, Sherlock?” Bo gives an indignant laugh.

“I mean I thought so but, I don’t know, it seemed like a personal question.” Dell raises his eyebrows.

“Well I think it should be pretty obvious. Considering how much we see each other.”

“What?” Bo’s very confused now, and Dell looks surprised, but expression quickly changes to one of understanding.

“How many times have you seen me sick, Bo?” It sounds like a trick question.

“Once. Today. Or twice I guess if you count yesterday.” Dell rubs his eyes.

“Well my mother hired you in January, I believe, so that’s two months. In winter no less.” He stops a moment, as if he’s calculating. “I’ve honestly been sick more often than not, I just thought you knew.”

“What? No, of course I didn’t know. I never - fuck, Dell, I -” His heart feels like it’s breaking. Dell, on the other hand, looks sort of amused.

“It’s ok, really. I like you a little more now though to be honest. I always assumed you just didn’t give a shit, but -”

“Of course I do! I -” He stutters, trying to sift through his memories to find out how he missed this. He’s shocked into silence when Dell puts a hand on his shoulder, then on his cheek. His expression has softened.

“It’s ok. Really. I’ll admit I try not to let it interfere with anything, I guess it’s just obvious to me because I’m the one who feels like shit, but I guess it’s good to hear the facade is almost flawless. You noticed this morning, but I guess this is also an exceptionally shitty cold or flu or whatever.” He takes his hand back, and only then Bo registers how warm it was. He sets his jaw.

“Do you wanna sleep here or in bed?” Dell seems taken aback.

“Uh, bed, I guess?” Bo gives a quick nod and pulls him up, supporting him for the short distance. When he’s seated on the bed, Bo wordlessly starts to collect the thermometer, his water bottle, the extra blanket. When he gets back, he slides the thermometer under his tongue.

“What’s going on?” He says around the device, and Bo gives him a serious look.

“I’m making up for the last two months.”

#My writing #oc dell #oc bo #sickfic #fever #perfectseries

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itsagutthing · 4 years

Text

Places Carrie Mathison Has Lived: New York City Edition

this installment of my carrie’s apartments series is close to my heart because i also live in brooklyn, though not close to carrie. the show actually filmed a scene just a block from my apartment, but for obvious reasons i’m not going to specify which scene. i know, season six is overall meh with the exception of carrie’s blazers, but my lizard brain still goes, “that’s where i live!” so i give it more leeway than i probably should.

carrie lives in the bedford-stuyvesant neighborhood of brooklyn, which was once primarily home to black and latino families but unfortunately is in the process of gentrifying. some light googling tells me they filmed the interior apartment scenes on a soundstage in another brooklyn neighborhood called greenpoint, which begs the question: why didn’t they just make carrie live there? greenpoint has also been gentrified but is mostly home to eastern european immigrants, so the writers could have avoided the questionable racial implications of carrie living in bed-stuy, particularly when she’s working at a non-profit that promotes racial justice. and greenpoint is also more convenient to her office in williamsburg! i know the answer to this question is probably just “brownstones look pretty,” and there are lots of brownstones in bed-stuy but not in greenpoint, but i’ll still bitch about it.

anyway, we know from quinn’s escape to the bodega in 6.02 that carrie lives close to the intersection of throop avenue and halsey street, which means she lives off of the kingston-throop A and C trains and a sort-of far walk from the bedford-nostrand G. she probably takes the G to work in williamsburg. this is information that’s only important to me, but i love public transit.

the bike lane sign in the screenshot above reminds me how much i loved seeing carrie biking around berlin. even though nyc isn’t nearly as bike-friendly, i hope she does the same in brooklyn.

carrie appears to have free reign of the entire brownstone, which must have been two separate units at some point — both where she and franny live and the ~garden apartment~ on the basement level that has both a full bath and kitchen. she obviously can’t afford to rent out an entire brownstone in new york city, even in bed-stuy, so my headcanon is that otto bought it as an investment property and is letting carrie and franny stay in it at a heavily discounted rate.

brownstones are typically long and skinny, as we see here. there are really only two rooms on the first floor: the living room and the kitchen.

i love seeing all of franny’s drawings strung up on the living room wall and her chalkboard/easel in the corner. this fixes an issue i had with carrie’s berlin apartment, which was that there was a weird lack of kid stuff. i don’t think that means anything on its own — we see in 5.01 how devoted carrie was to her seemingly normal life as a mother — but it’s nice to see more little touches in her brooklyn apartment.

i assume the fireplace in the left-hand corner isn’t actually usable, but it does make the living room look homier. i’m surprised there isn’t more carpeting, since carrie loves a patterned rug. the living room looks a little cold without it. maybe she isn’t done decorating yet, though i think we’re supposed to believe they’ve been in nyc for a few months.

there’s a tv next to the fireplace in 6.05 that isn’t there in 6.01, which is very strange placement. the only furniture opposite the tv is a desk and chair, so there’s nowhere to sit comfortably while watching. i don’t think carrie spends a lot of time watching tv, but that’s still a confusing choice. i do like franny’s fuzzy chair with bunny ears, though. carrie probably ordered it on amazon but i like to imagine her schlepping it in and out of a cab.

now for the kitchen:

one nice thing the show did to convince us that this is an apartment carrie could maybe afford is that it’s not newly renovated: all the kitchen appliances are basic and/or old, and the countertops look like plastic laminate and are chipped along the edges. and there’s no room for the nice cutting boards or espresso machine she had in germany! i always find barstools charming even if they’re just a cheat to make an efficient use of counter space.

my favorite detail in the kitchen is the trio of framed drawings done by franny. again, i love all the “carrie’s a mom, remember?” touches.

the curtains are a gold color and match the curtains in the living room! carrie learned some design lessons in berlin.

even in the daytime the whole first floor feels really dark, which makes me miss the floor-to-ceiling windows in berlin. i brightened the screenshots a lot to see the details, but especially in the living room, the sunlight just doesn’t reach all the way across the house. the lack of natural light (and the fact that they filmed during the late fall) does a lot of quick work to set the dreary tone that persists for the entire season. i can’t help but compare it to the americans, which also filmed in brooklyn in the fall/winter, but at least the indoor scenes in that show were well-lit and generally warmer in both color and tone.

i associate the early seasons of homeland with warm yellows, probably because they filmed either in the desert or in charlotte in the summertime. the shift to gray winter skies and heavy coats is a little jarring, even with berlin in the middle as a transitional urban, cooler season.

that door behind carrie goes out to a set of stairs and their little backyard/patio:

it’s common, if a little depressing, to have bars on first-floor windows as shown in the second shot above, both to child-proof an apartment from the inside and to prevent break-ins. our first view of franny for the season is through those bars, but i’m not entirely sure what the symbolism is supposed to be. carrie already feels a separation from franny, maybe? this shot especially feels super foreboding.

carrie continues her trend of killer outdoor lounge furniture (remember the multiple chaises on her DC patio?) with the wooden chair with blue cushions right outside the back door. there are also more potted plants than i believe carrie would purchase/remember to water, especially in the winter, but maybe she figures if they’re outside they’ll get enough rain to survive.

i don’t have a lot to say about the patio itself other than i’m jealous that carrie has outdoor space.

inside by the stairs/front entryway is a framed berlin jazz poster which makes me inexplicably happy, and follows the same trend with the jazz posters she had in her DC apartment. it’s hard to tell what’s in the photos, so i’m choosing to believe they’re pictures of places she and franny loved in berlin, including some of the two of them taken by jonas. there is absolutely a photo of franny and carrie at the birthday party we saw in 5.01 where carrie’s wearing that balloon hat.

we don’t get to see a lot of the second floor, but i’m going to assume it’s just franny’s room, carrie’s room, carrie’s weird conspiracy closet, and a bathroom.

franny’s room is very colorful, with the rainbow sheets and rainbow polka dot curtains. it makes up for the dreariness of the first floor. behind carrie in that second shot is franny’s star lamp, which i love but have many questions about. it’s obviously an allusion to brody, of which there are many in season 6, probably because they’re in new york city and brody would have never served/been captured/turned/bonded with carrie if not for 9/11. assuming that carrie purchased this lamp for franny with brody’s memory in mind, does franny have anything else that’s star themed? if not, why this lamp? did carrie explain to franny that stars make her think of franny’s father, or is it just a secret nod for carrie alone? how often does carrie talk to franny about brody, if at all?

now we move to carrie’s conspiracy closet:

i’ve been in enough brownstones to know that sometimes there are strange inexplicable tiny rooms, which is what we have here. i’m sure this would be advertised as an office space on streeteasy but it really looks like a glorified closet with a confusing number of doors leading off of it. i count three total including the one saul came in — what are all these doors? i think the one on saul’s right goes to franny’s room but i don’t have a great spatial brain and i’m not confident about that assessment.

this conspiracy board reveal was kinda anticlimactic since very little happens with it, but i still felt like i needed to include it as a separate room since carrie clearly spends a lot of time here.

i wish we got to see carrie’s bedroom because i love to scrutinize the art she has, but sadly we’re limited to franny’s room. i’m going to assume there’s a full bath up here somewhere, and a half bath downstairs that we don’t see.

finally, we have the basement apartment that carrie allegedly rents out on airbnb. in real life it likely would be marketed as an entire unit separate from the two floors above, but since otto owns the entire brownstone / is in love with carrie he’s just letting her do whatever she wants with it.

the full kitchen is what convinces me it was supposed to be an independent unit — no one has a stove and sink and lots of cabinets in their basement. like we saw in carrie’s kitchen, none of the appliances are fancy and the countertops are nothing special, which makes the room look kinda drab but does help sell the idea that carrie could actually live here. there’s also some water damage in the corner by the fridge. i’m not sure why they decided to be realistic in season 6 — can we all recall carrie’s unnecessary two-bedroom townhouse in DC? — and it’s not particularly fun to watch, but i’m not mad about it.

the living room area of this basement actually looks cozier than carrie’s living room, with all the pillows and the exposed brick wall. i have a weakness for exposed brick walls, as we know from carrie’s DC apartment, and here it goes pretty far to make the space look homey. the couch looks like it matches the chair on her patio (with the wood frame + blue cushions), so does that mean the patio chair is meant for normal indoor use? why is it outside??

as we know from her berlin apartment, carrie really loves a two-curtain combo with a sheer under layer. these are dark green, similar to the navy ones she loved in berlin but not the same. i do like the thought of carrie taking her navy curtains with her from germany and relegating them to the basement to avoid the constant reminder of her past life, but i also have no desire to think about what it would mean that quinn ends up living in the basement with her jonas curtains. so those must be new!

in summary: musings about carrie’s role in gentrification, the color palette of the show, berlin jazz poster + photos, franny’s art on the walls, star lamp, a basement living room that’s cozier than carrie’s actual living room!

#homeland #carrie mathison #me acknowledging qu*nn's existence? only because i needed the screenshots #me bringing up jonas for no reason? of course #i cropped/brightened these photos while watching gilmore girls which sure was a tonal shift #cma*#i miss carrie even though i have every single episode at my fingertips

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fluffy-marshmallow-heart · 4 years

Text

Two Lost Souls -ch 17

The Elementalists au

Beckett x Oriana

Words: 3447

Series Master List

Complete Master List

Series Warnings: Will contain NSFW content. TRIGGER WARNINGS: Physical, Emotional, Sexual, and Domestic Abuse. Death. Rape, Violence, Manipulation, Drug Abuse, and lots and lots of Angst.

Chapter Warning: Slightly NSFW

By Reading you are acknowledging you are 18 years of age and older.

A sequel to Secret Studies

8 Years ago, Beckett and Oriana Harrington graduated Penderghast College. A year after that, tragedy struck, and they haven’t seen each other since. What happens when their paths cross once more? Is it coincidence? Or is it their souls trying to find their way home?

Oriana’s POV

Oriana woke up early, 4am, slipping out of bed and grabbing some clothes. Everett was still snoring on the floor, and she didn’t want to be here when he woke up. She stopped at a bakery near her flat, picking up some fresh donuts, fruits, and coffee. She was at Beckett’s penthouse by 5 and brought the bags to the kitchen area. There weren’t any lights on and there was no movement in the house, so she knew Beckett must still be asleep. Tiptoeing back out to the living space, she saw Zephyr sleeping on the couch she’d picked out and had delivered the previous day.

She grabbed herself a coffee and some fruit before heading into the office space. Flipping on the light, she sat down in her new chair, pulling out her necklace from under her shirt and taking it off, staring at it. She didn’t quite know what to do with it. If she wore it back home, Everett would certainly see it at some point, and she couldn’t have that. She watched the metallic wildflowers sway before she heard a door open. She quickly shoved it in her desk drawer. It would do for now.

“Why are you here so early?” Beckett’s cold voice startled her. “What have you been doing? I didn’t ask you to come in this early, you’re not getting paid any extra for it.”

“I, um…” Her voice failed her as she took in his appearance. His blondish brown hair was all mussed up from sleep, he wore light blue pajama pants that were hanging dangerously low on his hips, and he had no shirt on. She couldn’t take her eyes off his ripped abs. He always had nice abs, but holy cow, this was doing something to her already.

“Um?” He demanded. “Didn’t think this would be an issue, but I guess I’ll tell the desk not to let you in unless I say so.”

“You gave me a key.” She finally looked into his eyes. His beautiful, silver eyes, which were currently lasered in on her.

He smirked, sauntering into the room and closing the door before going behind the desk. He turned her chair to face him, and she inhaled sharply. God, he smells as good as his body looks…absolutely delicious. Placing his hands on the armrests, he leaned in, murmuring in her ear. “See something you like?”

She took a shaky breath. “Yes, actually, I think the furniture I picked out is quite nice.”

“About that…” He drew his head back, eyes focused on her lips. “I said shop for the office, not shop to decorate my entire penthouse.”

“It needed color.” She told him defiantly.

“I could have provided that for myself.”

“But you didn’t.”

“You don’t live here, Oriana.” He growled. “I want you to return everything except what’s in this room.”

“You’ll thank me someday.” She breathed.

“Why on earth would I do that?”

Oriana bit her lower lip. She was ready to head into new territory, and can only hope it doesn’t blow up in her face. “Because you love me.”

Beckett blinked, clearly taken aback by that sentence. He stood up tall, his abdomen in line with her eyes now. She couldn’t stop herself from ogling again. “I love who you used to be.” He said tightly, backing away.

“I’m still that person.”

“You’re still engaged to that dick you call wonderful. It’s masochistic, and I don’t approve.”

“Approve?” She laughed shortly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I needed your approval for anything.”

Beckett scoffed. “You know what? I don’t need you today. Go home, Ori.” He whirled around, reopening the door and leaving the room.

“Wait.” She dashed after him, cornering him in the hall. “You and Zeph didn’t give me much of a chance to talk yesterday.”

Beckett shrugged, looking away. “Actually, you seem to talk way too much. Go home to your lover.” He finished with a bitterness in his tone.

Oriana’s eyes narrowed. “Yesterday you were kissing me, wanting me, desperately craving me…and a few hours later you’re practically shoving me out the door. What the hell is your problem? You’re always telling me I have to come in early. I’m only doing what you’re constantly telling me to do.”

“My problem is you.” Beckett glared. “And I told you, I don’t need you today. I’m taking Zeph sight-seeing.”

“You don’t want me to answer phones calls or emails or…”

“Frankly, Oriana, I don’t want you here at all right now.”

She felt like the wind was knocked out of her. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to go home; she hates it there. Everett suffocates her.

“Maybe she wants to come.” Zeph appeared, yawning. “Can the two of you shut up until I get my coffee? I can’t deal with you until then.”

Beckett snickered and Oriana shot him a Look. She was originally really happy that Beckett still had Zeph. But right now, it was pissing her off, because Zeph clearly would only take Beckett’s side in everything.

“She can’t come. She’s got a busy day returning all this crap she bought yesterday.” Beckett smirked. “Although I stand by my statement. You can just go home and deal with it tomorrow.”

“You ordered food already? How long have you been up?” Zeph asked, grabbing a donut.

“Actually, I brought it.” Oriana huffed. “Thought I would do something nice, but silly me, thinking I’d be appreciated.”

“You mean Everett doesn’t appreciate you, enough? Seems like he does, the way he can’t take his hands off you.”

“Fuck you, Beckett.” She spat. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“I don’t need to know. You’re my employee; I only need to know that you can follow directions. Like leaving, for example.” Beckett snarled, stepping into her space.

A loud groan came from Zephyr, his head falling back in exasperation. “Seriously, you guys? If I leave, can you just have sex already? The tension here is killing me, and it’s way too early for me to see you both attempt not to rip each other’s clothes off. And I’m kind of afraid you’re going to do it front of me anyway.”

“It’s not my fault that Oriana’s been drooling over my muscles all morning.” Beckett shrugged. “I take care of myself, this is my house, and I don’t feel the need to cover up.

She couldn’t believe the audacity this man had. He was pretty much the same guy she met as a freshman in college, except now he had more power; more money; his ego was even more inflated. Well, since Beckett needs to be knocked down a few pegs again, she really only had one decision to make.

“Ya know what?” She glanced at Zephyr. “Sightseeing sounds fun. Count me in.”

Beckett’s POV

Beckett grumbled as they made their way to Hampstead Heath. He’d attempted to bring Zeph to one of London’s plethora of museums, but he was vetoed immediately.

“I’m not here to stay inside.” Zeph told him. “There’s plenty other places, BookBeck, a museum isn’t the most fun.”

“Depends on the person. Personally, I find the National Gallery quite enticing.”

“Of course, you do.” Oriana giggled. “Some things certainly don’t change.”

“Are you mocking me?” Beckett asked incredulously.

She put her hands up in defeat. “Not at all. I’m just saying hello to the Beckett I know.”

“Ha ha ha.” Beckett rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard Hampstead Heath is also nice, but there isn’t anything to do or see.”

“Actually, it has great views.” Oriana mused.

“Oriana, how long have you lived here?” Zeph asked.

“Um…I’m not completely sure…” She trailed off, averting her gaze.

“So, a long time.” Zeph supplied. “And, Beckett, how often were you here before you were forced to come?”

“Once or twice.” Beckett mumbled. He’d tried to come more, but Katrina would always tell him she was too busy. One time, he decided to surprise her, but when he arrived his sister was already trashed, and it ended up being quite unpleasant for them both.

“Wow, this is huge!” Zeph gasped, turning his attention back to the park they were entering. “It’s like London’s version of Central Park!”

“Way better though.” Oriana told him. “There are tons of places to get lost here.”

“Should we do it?” Zeph asked excitedly.

“Do what?” Beckett asked skeptically.

“Get lost! It’ll be an adventure!”

Oriana laughed and Beckett tried really hard to not let it affect him, but after they left his penthouse, her mood seemed to lift…she seemed different today. She was looser, more laid-back, more easy-going…the way she used to be. He couldn’t figure out what her game was. He also couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was breathtaking, even wearing a simple pair of jeans and a v-neck green tee.

“There’s one place in particular I want I bring you first…it’s a bit of a popular area, so there will probably be lots of people, but trust me, it’s worth it.” Oriana grinned.

She began leading them, and Zephyr shrugged at Beckett, following her.

“So, Zeph, I’m really sorry about yesterday.” She started.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” He replied shortly, and Beckett couldn’t help the chuckle that came out of his mouth. It felt amazing to have someone like Zeph on his side. Oriana’s missing out.

The whole thing seemed surreal. He and Oriana used to spend every minute together, but after not seeing her for so long, it felt a bit odd. And not in a bad way. But odd in a ‘I can’t believe how natural this still is’ kind of way. He’d lost everything, but somehow, after all these years, he was strolling through a large park with his best friend and the woman he loves more than anything else in the world, like it was the most common thing for him to be doing.

“Okay. Wow. I admit this is pretty cool.”

Beckett snapped back to attention, seeing they’d come to a stop on a large hill, looking down on a perfect view of the city. Oriana was beaming.

“I come here when I don’t want to feel alone. There’s lots of people, yet it’s still your own experience. And looking down at all that life…it makes me remember that I’m not actually done with mine. There are lots of people just like me, and I take comfort in that.”

“Not just like you.” Beckett muttered under his breath.

“Why do you find yourself feeling alone?” Zeph asked.

“I think everyone does, at one point or another.” She responded.

“What’s next?” Beckett piped in. He didn’t want to get into a conversation about being alone. He’s by himself far too often and wasn’t proud of it.

“The viaduct.” Oriana stated immediately. “You’re going to love it. Both of you.”

After another trek, the three friends approached a large pond, with a brick structure jutting out of the water. “The viaduct was supposed to be an entrance to an estate, but the estate was never built.” She explained.

“What a shame, it would be great space to own a home.” Beckett murmured to himself.

“Yes, well, the majority of the population disagreed.” Oriana countered. “And if it had been built, we wouldn’t be here today.”

Beckett furrowed his eyebrows, taking in her appearance. She seemed contemplated; lost in thought. He wanted to get inside her pretty head and see what she’s thinking. The three of them talked a bit more, though it felt a bit forced at times. Zeph filled Oriana in on everything he’s been up to since they last saw each other, and she was hanging onto every word of it. For the next hour or so, the small group continued walking aimlessly around, until coming to another pond, this one with a small dock leading out into the water. There were a few people swimming, and Zeph stopped short, eyes wide.

“Oh. My. God. I have always wanted to do this.”

“Do what….?” Beckett began to ask, but Zeph had already shoved his phone into his hands and taken off down the bank and onto the dock. He stared in horror as Zeph jumped off the end and into the water.

When he emerged, he pumped his fist into the air. “Woooooooo!”

“And now we have to get him out. What do you…” He trailed off again at the look of excitement in Oriana’s eyes.

“That looks like fun!” She grabbed Beckett’s hand. “We should do it!”

It took him a moment to compose himself from the strike of lightning that flew when their hands joined. “Ori, please, I’m not jumping into some pond I’ve never been to. I need to take samples and get them analyzed first, to make sure it’s safe.”

“There’s other people in the water. It’s a mixed swimming pond.”

“And maybe they’ll catch diphtheria.” He shrugged.

“You really forgot.” She spoke softly, dropping his hand.

“Forgot what?”

“How to be spontaneous.”

Before he could reply again, Oriana gave him her phone, and took off just like Zeph, leaping into the water, leaving him gaping behind her.

“Come on, Beckett!” Zeph laughed. “It feels great!”

Grumbling, Beckett walked down the dock. “You’re going to spend the rest of the day in wet clothes?”

“Well, you might have an easier time getting Oriana’s clothes off than you would mine.”

Beckett’s jaw dropped as he turned a deep crimson. “T-that’s preposterous, I wouldn’t…I mean, I couldn’t…”

“Why don’t you jump in and find out?” Oriana teased.

Suddenly feeling extremely hot, Beckett warred with himself. Something was most definitely different today. Did him knocking out Everett somehow loosen her up? Or maybe Zeph’s outburst did. Either way, as Zeph and Oriana raced around splashing each other and laughing, he set the phones down and began unbuttoning his shirt. He’d chosen a white button-down shirt with khakis today. He figured he wanted to look nice in case he ran into anyone important, but wanted to be comfortable bringing Zeph around the city.

Swallowing hard, he let his shirt flutter onto the wood. He was shaking in anticipation. He hasn’t done anything like this…well, since he was living with Oriana. He’d be stupid to let this opportunity go by. He felt Oriana’s eyes on him as he pushed his pants off next.

“Uh, it’s deep enough to jump in, right? I’m not going to land on some rocks?” He asked nervously, staring into the murky water.

“That’s all part of living dangerously, my friend! But the fact that Oriana and I didn’t scream in pain is probably a good indicator of what’s to come.” Zeph winked, nodding his head towards Oriana, who wasn’t saying anything…but her hazel eyes were still roving over his muscular body shamelessly.

Beckett dipped one toe into the water, willing himself to just jump. He met Oriana’s gaze as she cocked her head to the side.

“He’s going to wimp out. I’m heading over there; they’re playing some sort of game.” Zeph started swimming away as Oriana swam closer.

“What’s the matter, Beck? You sunburned already?”

“What?” He gasped, looking down at himself quickly. “I look perfectly normal, why…” He trailed off as she laughed.

“You might have forgot how to have fun, but I gotta say…making you blush is still so easy.”

Oh. Now he gets it. Narrowing his eyes, he glared at her. “I’m heading home. You two can come whenever.”

He reached down to collect his clothing, but suddenly Oriana was wrapping her arms around him and pulling him down into the water with a splash.

When he came back up to the surface, he was sputtering in shock at what just happened. “What the heck, Ori? I could have hit my head!”

“On what? Water?” She asked incredulously.

“You’re going to get it.” He growled and she shrieked, turning around and swimming further away from the dock, Beckett right on her heels. Finally, he caught her foot, forcing her to stop swimming and pulled her towards him, his arms holding her tightly, her lips just a breath away. She was still giggling, and it was so contagious; his grin must have been a mile wide. He felt like he’s been living someone else’s life and was finally coming back home after far too long. He forgot how lonely he’s been without her.

His eyes fell to her luscious lips, his heart pounding. God, he’s missed her. He’s missed everything about her; her smile, her warmth, her laugh…even her tears. She was his home, there was no question of that. He crushed her body into his and crashed their lips together. One of her arms snaked around his neck, while the other travelled to his ass, grinding their hips together.

“B…Beck…” She whimpered, and he groaned, feeling himself harden in an instant, all rational thought flying out the window. He needs her, needs to feel her, right here, and right now.

He unbuttoned her jeans and she gasped as his hand slipped in and beneath the waistband of her panties. She was trembling, forehead resting on his, no longer kissing him, but lost in his eyes, still clutching him for dear life. Before he dared to go further on his own, her fingernails dug into his back intensely; her breathing became erratic…and he knew exactly what that meant. It was one of her tells.

“Yesss…” Her voice was quiet and breathy as his fingers lightly reached her center, stroking once along her folds.

But they sprang apart when a loud whistle came from the shore, the lifeguard yelling something to another swimmer. And then Zeph reappeared.

“Isn’t this so much fun? I think I should move here, too. How kick-ass would that be? You’ll give me a job, right Bucket?”

“Uh…yeah, sure…” Beckett said sheepishly, feeling scrutinized under his gaze, his cheeks dusted pink.

“Did…I…did I interrupt something?”

“No!” Both he and Oriana cried in unison.

Zeph stared at them and Oriana shifted even further away. “Um, there’s a pub nearby, we could…”

“Your clothes are soaked.” Beckett reminded.

“Oh, right…my…clothes…that are still on…because they weren’t taken off.”

He rose an eyebrow. “I did try to warn you about that.”

“I definitely interrupted something.” Zeph was still staring.

“You interrupted nothing.” Beckett muttered, turning around and heading back to the dock. Pulling himself out of the water, he grabbed their belongings and walked off into the grass. He couldn’t believe that just happened. They were having so much fun; it was just like old times. And then making out and fondling her in a public area, like they were the only two people there…his eyes darted to where she and Zeph were getting out of the water, chatting amicably.

How can she act like nothing happened right now? How can she act like he wasn’t touching her intimately? God, why did he do that? She’s an engaged woman. Her heart belongs to someone else. According to her, anyway, even though it was completely obvious she didn’t want Everett at all. She was shivering when she approached.

“Cold?” He asked, avoiding her gaze.

“Just a bit.” She replied shakily. I think I’d like dry clothes now.”

Beckett nodded. “We can take you home first.”

“No, that’s okay, I have a few outfits in your penthouse.” Her eyes widened, like she didn’t mean to say that.

“Why do you have clothes in his penthouse?” Zeph mused.

“Well, Beck said we’d have some late nights, so I just wanted to make sure I had something clean there. To, you know, stay presentable.”

“Where are they?” Beckett asked. This was news to him. It’s not like she’s been there a ton so far.

Oriana shrugged. “They would have been delivered yesterday, so, probably in one of the unopened boxes.

“That’s verrry interesting. Hear that Beckett? She decided to keep a change of clothes at your house. You didn’t know?” Zeph asked slyly.

He shook his head. He hadn’t had a clue she had clothes there. He wondered what else he’d end up finding in his penthouse that he hadn’t discovered yet.

“Well, Oriana, you apparently still have the best clothes, so I’m excited to see the little numbers you keep at Beckett’s. You know, maybe this home office was a really good decision. I admit I had my doubts but…sounds like a pretty sweet deal. Do you stay over often, Oriana? I wasn’t offered a second bed…”

Beckett felt the tips of his ears burning.

Oriana started coughing as though she’d swallowed wrong, and you couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off Zeph’s face if you tried.

“Yup. I definitely interrupted something.”

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fuckinuchihas · 3 years

Note

Omg, I didn't think I'd actually get it! You're welcome for putting you out of your misery! I sent in a guess the first time and didn't get it but I'm Poppy, 25, and I like Bokuto! Thank You!

- 🦄

Alright Poppy! I finally finished it.

Honestly if it feels like this is not who you are or completely and totally out of character that’s okay just tell me I can absolutely do it again. Or if it just sucks...which it might cause like...I’m hella fucking sick, but my anxiety won’t let me not be productive so here we go.

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CALL A DO-OVER!!! ILYSM THANKS FOR PLAYING WITH ME AND SORRY IT’S SO LATE!!

BOKUTO X READER VALENTINES DAY FLUFF

You’ve been with Bokuto long enough to have mildly convinced him that you don’t really care about the extravagance of Valentines day. You don’t want a huge box of chocolates, to which half of them you don’t even like, or a bunch of flowers that will be dead in a week.

It’s not that you don’t appreciate them, you absolutely do...but it doesn’t feel necessary anymore.

He makes you feel loved each and every single day.

You don’t need cheesy red and pink decorations hung up in the living room or an expensive dinner at a restaurant where you feel out of place.

It just feels like way too much when you’ve already got everything you want and need by simply having him in your life.

It’s more than enough already.

Bokuto looks down at the last page of his ‘special love coupon book’ and grins to himself.

He’s old enough now to know that it’s kind of ridiculous but he’s given one to you for every single holiday or special occasion you’ve spent together and though you sometimes roll your eyes at what he believes are quite frankly generous rates on the slips, you never fail to smile when you see it.

And..you’ve even cashed a few in, though after the first time he made you promise not to actually tear them out again, they were in fact, unlimited.

He’s satisfied with it when he’s done with the design, this year he’s beefing it up a bit and having it actually printed out so he wanted to make sure the colors weren’t overwhelming or anything.

Once that’s complete, and submitted to the print shop...he’s kind of at a loss.

He knows you don’t want anything big. You’ve more than made that clear, though he’s been given contradictory advice by a couple of his teammates.

Still...he knows that he knows you better than anyone and that you wouldn’t be secretly expecting more.

The issue then becomes that he still wants to celebrate the day with you, even if it’s a lowkey thing with just the two of you.

He makes up his mind that he’s going to get some of your favorite food and drinks and a hardback copy of that book you’ve been wanting and he can still feel like he’s celebrating the love he has for you, and that you feel it too...without overwhelming you.

Yeah, that sounds good…

He texts your best friend three days in advance, after setting many, many reminders on his phone and asks if they’ll take you out to coffee or a movie on him, a secret between the two of them. They of course love him and how affectionate he is with you so they agree quickly and he sends the money over before he forgets.

The morning of, you have a nice lazy morning in bed before you bring up the friend date, he makes a big act of begging you not to go but just before you change your mind and cancel, he gets flustered and says he should probably get his workout in early so the two of you can spend the evening together.

You find it a little suspicious given the fact that Bokuto is about as subtle as a sledge hammer and a terrible terrible liar, but you trust that he won’t ask for too much and you put it behind you and go on with your day.

As soon as you’re out of the house he grabs every pillow and comforter he can find and texts someone he knows isn’t busy today and grins when he answers on the first ring.

“It’s just a fort, man. What’s so hard about that. You tie a couple sheets to your ceiling fan and throw up some fairy lights and bam, you’re done and everyone is happy.” Kuroo answers after Bokuto explains why he wants him over.

Sure, building a for looks easy, but ‘ol Bo has learned his lesson and he doesn’t do any kind of large scale (or small scale) project without supervision anymore.

“Just get over here man. I don’t have a lot of time...and what are fairy lights? Y’know what just stop and get those or whatever you think we’re gonna need and I’ll pay you back.”

“No...no what’s the real reason you’re asking for help. Besides the fact that you’re decoratively challenged?”

“I AM NOT! SOMEONE TOLD ME I COULD BE A MODEL LAST WEEK!” he calls out before he realizes he does still need Kuroo’s help.

He ignores Kuroo’s response and continues on. “Anyway, uh,” he rubs his neck, not wanting to admit the truth but Kuroo is kind of like an evil genius sometimes. “I may or may not have sworn an oath that I wouldn’t do any umm projects without help.”

Kuroo immediately starts barking laughter against his ear.

“Stop being such a jerk and get over here dude, I’ve only got a couple hours!”

“Wh-what’s the-” Kuroo is still slightly wheezing from laughter. “What’s the penalty.”

‘Oh no, not telling. I’m hanging up. Be over here in less than 25 minutes or I’ll tell Kenma you broke his lucky switch, bought a used one on a street corner and then filed the edges down to make it look ‘authentic’.”

“Fuck. Ugh fine.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Bokuto hangs up the phone with a smirk splayed on his lips.

He makes a resolute promise to himself to never let Kuroo find out the consequences of not keeping his promise is that he can’t have kisses or cuddles for a full twenty four hours.

What can he say, he’s weak..okay. He’s weak for you.

Kuroo gets there after he’s scheduled the takeout delivery and sloppily wrapped both your coupon book and the one you were itching to read.

He defends his blanket choices with his life but Kuroo insists on using these plain white ones he bought because it would ‘look more romantic’. He rolls his eyes but lets him do what he wants because if it’s one thing he does trust, it’s Kuroo’s eye for design.

“Ooh I forgot you had these ceilings...this is going to look awesome, dude.”

“Good, now what do you want me to do…”

“Nothing, I got this part.”

“Nooo, I want to do it myself,” he says, resisting the urge to stomp his foot. “It won’t mean as much if you just do it all for me.”

“Y’know you might not be the brightest but you’re a good man, Bokuto.”

“Eh?” he says, because Kuroo rarely ever compliments him sincerely.

“Nothin’ man, just get the clothespins.”

They work together and in less than an hour it looks, well...it looks fucking amazing he thinks.

He’ll give up just this once and say Kuroo was right, the white sheets look pretty cool and the little lights they strung up are pretty neat too.

It looks super romantic so he hopes you like it.

He kicks Kuroo out before he can invite himself over, Kenma has a special v-day stream going on and he wants to crash it from a different ip, whatever that means. Well either way he turns him down and swears the secrets he has will yet again, stay between the two of them.

Now he just needs to wait for you to get home.

When your friend texts that they’re about to drop you off, his heart starts beating out of his chest and he gets super excited.

He waits for you at the door, stepping outside when he sees their car pull in and softly closes it behind him.

“He yells out a greeting that could probably shake the ground if it was another decibel louder but you love how excited he gets so it doesn’t bother you.

You make your way over to him with a skeptical look on your face as he starts nervously rubbing at his neck.

“Why are you outside?” you ask and there’s a pink tinge to his cheeks that you’re pretty sure isn’t from the cool weather.

“Umm Happy Valentines Day?” he says, an awkward chuckle quickly following the words.

“Kotaro...what did you do? Why are you standing outside?” you ask, immediately concerned about the state of your home.

“I swear it’s not bad. I just wanted to surprise you so...please?” he asks, a hopefulness in his eyes that you can’t bring yourself to squelch no matter how worried you feel.

“I mean I said I didn’t want anything big but I guess if you want-” you stop mid sentence, breath stuck in your throat when you see your transformed living room.

He’s moved all the furniture except for the couch and the tv stand and it’s gorgeous. The lights twinkle a little in the darkness and you feel the irresistible urge to kiss his face.

So you do.

He never objects to kisses.

“This is really nice… I mean it. I’m sorry I almost ruined your plan or if I made you feel like you couldn’t do anything. I don’t ever want it to be that way. I just also don’t need you to make a big fuss,” you say, trying to be a little logical about it, but your heart is definitely thumping in that cheesy romantic way.

“How about a little fuss…”

“A little fuss feels nice.”

You lay back on the couch, you read to him from your book and share music playlists that quietly add to the ambiance of your conversation. He coaxes you into some weird verbal games that he’s played with Akaashi over the years, because it was something he needed to bring him out of his shell a little and you end up laughing until your belly hurts.

The takeout arrives on time and you enjoy the food and Bo loves to feed you small bites of your favorite stuff, so you let him.

He tells you to unwrap your gift and you feel fondness and warmth rush over you when you see the handmade coupons, this time even more beautifully drawn out.

It’s really easy to see why you’re so in love with him.

Even in the in between moments.

He’s always thinking of you and always wanting to be the best version of himself for you.

I wrote like an extra 600 words cause a lot of it was bokuto and kuroo interaction lol my bad but I hope you enjoyed it!

#not naruto #not knb #haikyuu!!#my stuffl #lucky duck game #lucky duck winner #bokuto loves you and so do i #bokuto kotaro x yn #bokuto x you

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minervahopebeyond · 4 years

Text

Blood Daffodils.

I really hope you like this one! (Sequel to Blood Petals)

Chapter 1: The Potter’s mansion.

Draco cried when Sirius apparated them. You see, Grimmauld Place was the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix... Severus was no longer a member but he still knew where the headquarters were. They couldn’t go back. Unfortunately, nobody told Draco beforehand.

They found themselves in front of extremely posh Gryffindor mansion. Draco knew, since the moment he saw it, that this was the Potter’s old house and they weren’t going back to Grimmauld ever again. So, yes, he cried like a little boy.

As the four of them entered the house, Sirius had his arm around him and kept calming him down. ‘I’m sorry, we just had to leave’. ‘We were lucky to have a place to move.’ ‘It’s very nice, I swear, and we don’t have my hag of a mother here.’But Draco did not care in the least. This house smelled different, this house was not Grimmauld.

“I thought that maybe we could put blood wards on Grimmauld. They are more secure.” The blond boy mumbled to his cousin. The man squeezed his shoulder and smiled kindly at him.

“We can’t risk it to go back... And the blood wards drain your own magic. We can’t be losing energy in keeping them up.” And he was absolutely right. Draco couldn’t even argue with him.

The mansion was decorated like the Gryffindor common room, everything red and cozy was put in this one place on earth... Draco thought it looked nice in comparison to the common room (more expensive furniture at least), but that it kind of hurt his eyes to stare at it for too long.

Mr. Potter gave them a tour. The kitchen was nice, they didn’t have a house elf here so they would have to take turns to cook. Downstairs, they also had the living room and the study (which James said that it was mostly created for his father, that he didn’t want to use it but they could if they wanted to).

The stairs were made from this dark tone of wood, very pretty, they did not creak when they climb them, though. In Grimmauld Place, everything was so old that the house had it’s own melody. The stairs creaked, the floor did too if you stood near the fireplace, and the door made this horrible sound if you opened too fast...

Upstairs, there was the main bedroom right down the hall, and four others that were smaller than that one.

They showed them their rooms. Potter, of course, was going to sleep in what was once James’s room. It was decorated with quidditch posters and Gryffindor flags, the green eyed boy thought it was awesome. They offered to redecorate if he wanted but the boy refused, said that it was perfect just like that.

“And for you... We made some arrangements.” Said Mr. Potter as he opened the door that was right next to Potter.

It was Sirius’s old room... the one he used when he moved with the Potters. It had a couple of Bowie posters right next to the bed and a record player in the corner. The walls were black, though. He couldn’t imagine Sirius choosing that for his own room so he figured that Mr. Potter had changed the color of the wall for him. To make them resemble a little bit more to Grimmauld Place.

“Look up, little cousin.” And Draco gasped.

They had put his sky up in the ceiling. He felt like home again.

“Thank you so much.” He said as he pulled the both of them into a hug.

“It’s nothing, kid. We knew you love that room, we wanted for you to like this one as well.”

“I absolutely do, this is perfect.”

Draco opened his eyes and saw Potter looking at him while he smiled. The boy diverted his look as fast as he could and blush started to appear in his cheeks and nose. How bloody weird.

They continued the tour and when Sirius showed them his room, Potter and him couldn’t help to pulled a face. Draco certainly wasn’t about to ask the question... The green-eyed boy, on the other hand, didn’t hold back.

“Why is this even necessary?” His cousin frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Potter looked at Mr. Potter who had his eyes fixed on the floor. Then, he looked at Sirius again arching an eyebrow.

“Why can’t you just sleep at the main bedroom with dad?”

The blush on his cousins face was epic. He looked like a scare little boy, who was just caught writing the name of the boy he liked on his notebook. It was a pretty funny sight in Sirius’s very adult face. The man tried to stutter a response.

“I- We are not-“ Draco didn’t think it was possible, but the man blushed even more than before. He turned to look at the man standing next to him. “Did you tell him something? Why does he think we are together, James?” Sirius demanded.

Poor Mr. Potter was just looking at his best friend with fearful eyes.

“I didn’t tell him anything. I don’t know why he thinks that.” You would think that Potter would had gotten the hint at that point, but no.

“I think you two are together because, contrary to popular belief, I’m not blind.” He responded with that sassy tone that Draco loved so much. The father of the boy couldn’t help but to laugh at that.

“That’s good, because apparently Padfoot is.”

“James.”

“Sirius.”

—————————

They were having breakfast for the first time in that house when Draco decided to expose Potter.

“So... “ He started, waiting for the rest of them to look at him. “Should we start the horcrux hunt now or after summer?”

Potter widened his eyes as he stare at him.

“What?” Mr. Potter asked.

“Did you just said horcrux hunt?”

“Oh, yeah! Did Potter forget to mention it? We are going to destroy all the horcruxes from the same old Voldy.” The green-eyed boy glared at him.

“I don’t know how you found out, but we are not doing anything. I’m going with Ron and Hermione and you are staying right here with dad and Padfoot.”

“Too late, Potty. I was already invited.” He responded smirking at the boy.

“I don’t fucking care. I want you safe.” Potter responded like a reflex and widened his eyes when he realized what he had said.

The daffodils were moving inside of him, dancing... so fucking happy. ‘HE CARES. HE CARES. HE CARES.’ Draco just blinked, trying to understand what just happened. Then, Mr. Potter interrupted.

“Neither of you are going anywhere.” Then he turned to look at his son. “You are still a minor, and I don’t care if you feel that this is your purpose in life: it’s not. The order will take care of it.”

“Like they took care of the attack the last time, you mean? Yeah, sorry for not trusting you much.”

Oh shit. Until that moment, Mr Potter never had a fight with Harry. He was too busy hugging him and being an angel with him... But Draco knew the face of the man right now: it was the same face that his mother wore when Draco had said an incredible fucked up thing.

“Let me put it this way: you are not leaving this house. You are still sixteen.”

“Then I wait until my birthday and run away! I have to do this and you can’t stop me.” The boy yelled right back.

“WHO EVEN TOLD YOU TO DO THIS?”

“James... maybe we should-“. Sirius started to say but he was cut short by Potter yelling his response.

“DUMBLEDORE!” Something seemed to flash on Mr. Potter’s eyes.

“Oh! The same man that got Sirius in Azkaban for twelve years, you mean?”

“Prongs, that wasn’t his fault.”

“IT WAS EVERYONE’S FAULT! But specially his because he knew it was not you and still he did nothing!”

Potter stood up and marched off to his room, without even looking back. Mr. Potter just put his head on his hands, his expression was of so much stress. Sirius started to rub his back gently.

After a while of eating in silence, Draco spoke.

“We are not going anywhere. I already told Granger that we were not disappearing on you two.” James looked at him with surprised eyes. “We should have a safe house, just in case, but I don’t think we will be needing it. If you don’t mind Ron and Hermione moving in, then we don’t have to leave anywhere.” He took a deep breath. “She was the one who invited me. Said that they needed me with them... She kind of also said that Potter would oppose to me joining them... Maybe you don’t care about my opinion but I had lived in the same castle as him since first year, if you tell him not to do something, he will definitely do it but in the most reckless way.” He said and left to find Harry.

He didn’t even knock on the door, fearing that the boy wouldn’t let him come in if he gave him the chance.

Potter was sitting on the bed, holding some kind of necklace in his hand. His eyes were fixed on that, ignoring Draco as he walked towards the bed. The flowers in him were begging him to do something about the boy’s sad face, slamming themselves against the walls from his lungs. He resisted the urge to cough.

The blond boy sat in front of him, without saying a word. Now, seeing the necklace up close, he realized that it was a locket. It was rather pretty and a little bit creepy... The glittering green stones were forming an S that clashed with the golden color of the locket. It had to be something related with Slytherin given the fact that the S could easily look like a snake. Draco raised his eyes to meet Potter’s.

“It’s fake. He risked his life for this and it’s fake.” The boy said. The blond boy could sense how defeated he felt. He offered his hand, encouraging the boy to give him the locket.

When Potter put it in his hand, he noticed that the locket was open and that it had a little note inside. He took it and unfolded it carefully, revealing what it said.

To the Dark Lord,

I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B

Draco widened his eyes.

R.A.B

Regulus Arcturus Black.

Draco had read enough times the name of Regulus to know his initials. He tried to articulate a word, he couldn’t.

“Draco...?” The boy asked with a soft voice.

The blond boy was already running out of the room and towards the kitchen. He heard Potter calling for him, following right behind. Draco entered the room where both, Sirius and Mr. Potter were.

He put the locket and the note in front of his cousin without saying a word.

Sirius took the note and traced every letter written in it with shocked eyes, a wave of grief washed over them. Draco saw how the realization in his face when he read the note.

“Reggie...” He whispered and Draco could not contain his joy.

“It’s his handwriting, isn’t it??” Sirius could only nod.

Mr. Potter took the note and read it too, a worried look appeared in his face as he turned to his best friend again.

“Padfoot...”

But Sirius was lost in his own thoughts, confused look in his eyes, trying to understand what he just read. Potter asked quietly who’s handwriting was it and his father answered in a very kind voice that it was Regulus’s.

This meant that Sirius and Andromeda weren’t the only ones with morals on the Black family. This meant that his cousin wasn’t the only brave enough man to stand up for what he believed in. This meant that Regulus was good. Like, putting everyone before himself kind of good, being utterly brave and selfless kind of good.

A tear started to course down Sirius’s cheek. Mr. Potter gently cleaned it with his hand.

“It has to be at Grimmauld.” The man said with a low voice, his eyes seemed lost. “He wouldn’t have put it in the vault, he always said that he didn’t trust the goblins... Everything important to him was at Grimmauld.”

Draco found himself, once more, feeling like he knew Regulus. He felt the same way about that house. He loved everything in it. Except, maybe, for Aunt Walburga.

“We have to go back then.” Potter said with determination in his tone.

And neither Sirius nor Mr. Potter could disagree with him.

“If Regulus started this then I’m going to finish it.” The tone in Sirius’s voice was something that Draco had never heard before... Mr. Potter pulled the man into a hug and kissed his forehead.

“I’m promising you. We will.” Potter’s father whispered as they hugged.

Potter was looking at them with marvelled eyes.

‘You know how my dad looks at Padfoot? I want that’

Draco would be the Padfoot to his Prongs any given day if he would ask him. He would hug him, and be there for him, and fight beside him until the day he dies. He would spend the rest of his life waiting for him; quite literally actually, after all, he didn’t have a lot of time left.

#drarry #fanfic #fanfiction #prongsfoot

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bread-elf · 4 years

Text

DWC 2020 - Day 7

Dance

Post invasion of N’zoth It had only been in the past few years that Jiroki danced so much, and she never felt so alive.

Having seen a beautiful display of aerial arts from a Sin'dorei years ago she became fond of a burlesque group known as the Succulent Tart, and thus then made it a point to attend their shows year round, and had met many others within the Horde and those of a carefree nature, and it changed her perspective on life.

She even received the offer to join to act as security! And not only that, she became the first Alliance-affiliated individual to perform for them for the new year. And by working with them is how she went to the Blooming for the first time, and danced the night away with new friends.

By now she had already met Sharpen Jadescythe, another Kaldorei who joined the Tarts sometime after her. They had an icebreaker by shopping together during the Menagerie once, and from there had shared dances during the multiple days of the Blooming.

During the final night of the Blooming they absolutely got tanked. And Sharpen, having seen Jiroki drink nearly every night, couldn't let her walk alone in such a state.

"You live out here, right? I think you mentioned that…" Sharpen's face had a flush of color from his alcohol, not nearly having drank as much as Jiroki, but a decent amount.

"I just said that." Jiroki hiccups, trying to walk along the stone path in the Jade Forest. Coincidentally enough she had her own property not far from Dawn's Blossom, and the pair headed that way as he helped her home. She wore very little clothing, some shorts and a low neck V to be more 'suitable' for the festivities, and even walked barefoot. Stumbling a bit, a sudden large arm pulled at her waist.

“Be careful. Don’t worry, I can help you.” Her grins down at her, but his presence only makes things worse for her. Already the man dressed so scantily to also match the atmosphere of the party, rippling muscles on a body that looked to be sculpted by the Titan’s themselves. Just by the simple maneuver she could tell he’s incredibly strong, and she can feel her body growing hotter from just his mere presence, and not because of their combined body heat. “You can barely walk on your own!” Loosened up from the alcohol she lets out a bit of her usual sass, slowly opening up to the man over the nights but has mostly still been holding back her usual demeanor. Though perhaps he sees right through her, having a handsome grin as he looks down at her. “Haha, you’re very silly.” He comments, not something said often to her, though he nearly missteps and stumbles, taking her with him. But he catches himself, a sheepish grin playing at his lips that makes his dimples show. “See?!” Jiroki huffs stubbornly, draping her arm around his waist. “You need-” She hiccups. “You need just as much help as me!” “Maybe I do. You’re always welcome to help me along.” He winks, and she nearly melts, quickly looking away and using the opportunity to look like in a drunken stupor. But really her heart is beating so fast, surely he could tell… They reached her property, a couple of buildings dotted along the landscape together that looked to be of a very small community. Dawn was upon them, but no one seemed up and about as the staggering pair reached the front door to her own home. Fumbling for the key she inserts it in the keyhole and opens it, and they step in. A modest home, with an air filled with positive vibes, happiness lurking here. Though the architect of the building is Pandaren, the furniture and decor fit a more Darnassian culture, lounge area and chairs more fitting to the size of Night Elves. Children’s toys littered about as well, indicating little ones in the area. Though the house is silent; the Kaldorei being nocturnal afterall. “Aztook? Are you home?” Jiroki whispers, cautious over the fact her children should be in bed. But as she calls for her mate there is no response; the ex-illidari would have noticed her presence even before she reached the door if he were home. “Your home is lovely!” Sharpen has a bit of a jovial air as he glances around with wide eyes, like a child taken some place new. The pair had grown quiet during their walk, a tension in the air as their hands had remained on one another. Though now with the two in her arm she slips out of his grip, albeit begrudgingly, and in her drunken haze she nearly had assumed his hands felt reluctant to leave her as well. “Let me get you some water, before you go. Take a seat.” Though her motor skills are not functioning properly she manages to get them both glasses of water, setting it down upon a coffee table and sitting beside him. His brightly green hair stood out even in the darkness of her home, though with her sight she could still see him clearly in the dark. “You didn’t have to. Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You drank so much.” Sharpen raises a hand up to idly brush back some of Jiroki’s dance-frazzled locks, only having the audacity to do so due to his drink. Yet the touch still makes her anxious, chest tightening as the gorgeous man frets over her. “I-I’ll be fine, surely… I’ll sleep it off…” Dismissive of the hangover that’s inbound for her when she next wakes. “Jiroki…” His hand lingers, staring at her rather intensely. “Do you know how beautiful you’ve been this weekend?” “What?” Her midnight eyes widen. Jiroki had noticed some, as he would call, ‘himbo’ moments the elf would have at times with his nonchalant and partially oblivious nature. At first she thought this might have been one of those moments, but his eyes had such a look of longing, almost a predatory gaze at her. “It’s true, you’re simply gorgeous. I… Hope you won’t hit me for saying that.” Another sheepish grin, making her notice a tiny cut on the right side of his lip, somehow becoming alluring to her. “H-Hey, what kind of person do you take me for?” Typically she would sass greatly at someone for making such a statement, but she just snorts in amusement while getting embarrassed. “N-No I, of course I wouldn’t, I’m flattered…” Now the blush on her cheeks is there in full force as his hand slides from her hair to her cheek. Glancing in each other’s eyes they just stare for a while, something building up they couldn’t deny. Their lips start to draw towards each other… Yet even in their drunken stupor they both pull back. “No, I… Not like this.” Sharpen takes in a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and Jiroki herself has to glance away to try and collect her thoughts. “S-Sorry, I… I don’t know what’s come over me…” If her mate is in fact home he could only be watching in amusement as she fumbles with herself, even taking a glance around the living room the two sat in. “Jiroki…” Sharpen takes her head. “I… I know you have a family, but, um…” He stammers, struggling to find his words. “I’m probably going to look lousy, but… Would- Would you like to go do something? We could… We could go to the beach! And I could fish us up a meal, I would love to be able to catch you something.” Suddenly very adamant about the idea as his amber eyes express it, glancing down at their hands. “Is… That ok?” “I…” Overwhelmed by this, not in the state of mind to be accepting such offers. Though the man somehow had a way of making her excited even over the littlest of things. “That sounds… Very nice.” Surely a simple gathering would be alright. Delighted by this Sharpen grins widely. “Really? Oh thank you; I’ll make sure it’s a grand time! We should go to Stranglethorn!” Starting to smile widely Jiroki nods her hand, gently gripping his hands in turn, looking forward to the outing they began planning. Little did she know how far their newly found relationship would stem. (( @daily-writing-challenge )) (( A little shy over this one lolol. They try and hide it, but Jiroki and @sharpen-jadescythe are rather of fond for each other! And Sharpen is such a wonderful person to rp with! <3 <3 <3 ))

#stories

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