#this is all in jest i quite enjoy the mushroom look on him

[cursedcola]

Prompt: What would they do to celebrate your birthday?

Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Octavinelle, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasmonia You’re here: Octavinelle!

A/N: Hey everyone. I know I have requests backed up to the nines but was my birthday and I need some comfort teehee (I am also SO mad that twst doesn’t have a thing for the MCs birthday >:( ). Some are longer than others because the inspiration train hit, but I really don't care. I love me my boys, what can I say? I hope you guys can read this for your birthdays and be happy :)

Azul Ashengrotto

Classy stud right here. Like Riddle, he wants to have you all to himself. So he waits until the evening to spring a surprise your way. Unlike Riddle, he has a perfectly good restaurant at his disposal and two trained waiters

The lounge is closed for the night. He made sure no one had made any reservations and that the lounge was scheduled for “maintenance”. You have absolutely no idea what he is planning. If you do? It gets squashed so quick by the “decoy,” present he gave you at breakfast.

The day is nearing its end and suddenly you’re asked to make a delivery to the lounge. Just a random student taking advantage of the magicless prefect, no different than the usual. It isn’t anything new.

When you get there? Jade is at the entrance and shoves you into the bathroom with a box. Inside is a dazzling navy-blue (dress/suit) and matching accessories. You are told to put them on, and when you step out Floyd is there with a blindfold.

After a quick tussle, you are blinded and being lead by the arm to the lounge area. When you get in, the tweels leave and Azul takes the liberty of granting you sight.

The first thing you see are his gentle eyes, taking in your visage and the outfit he picked out. Then you notice the dim light coming from the Jellyfish tanks and string lamps in the room. Instead of the normal set up, the lounge has been emptied save for one table in the center and various under the sea decorations. He’s hired an entertainer, and you both enjoy dinner together while listening to smooth jazz

He asks you to dance, which is something Azul steers clear from since land legs are new to him. Yet? He wants you to feel special and to be close. So he sucks it up and you both sway to the music while talking.

His present? A seashell pendant that looks strangely familiar to Ursula’s. However, Azul has no intention of stealing your voice. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Wherever you may be, simply speak into this and I will hear it. It’s enchantment has been sealed with one of my contracts, therefore binding with my subconscious—the contract terms? Ah, uhm…until the day i cease loving you shall we forever be connected by this conch. It is unbreakable,”

Jade Leech

Darlin’ were you expecting something romantic? For him to sweep you off of your feet? To be lavished with praise? Haha. You’re funny.

Jade has you knee deep in mudd for your birthday. Literally. You are in hiking boots and being forced to go mushroom picking with him

“Quality time,” he calls it. My eel here basically pretends that it is not your birthday, and instead drags you through the morning dew to get covered in the scents of nature. Who wants to be hiking when there’s class in only a few hours? Does he have no shame for cutting your sleep short?

No. With each look over his shoulder, Jade only appears to be having the time of his life. Watching his little human who’s had legs much longer than him get destroyed by his favorite hobby

It frankly sucks, until he deviates from the mountain trail. Every time you ask him where you’re going he just does one of his evil chuckles. Very scary, but you love it.

Eventually you reach a cliff overlooking NRC’s campus. For a moment it looks like he’s going to push you off of it, but he merely jests. In just a second he is pulling out an entire picnic from his backpack

It’s…so domestic and simple. He has breakfast sandwiches, sliced fruits, juice, and a portable kettle for (tea/coffee/cocoa). He basically dragged you out to watch the sunrise. It’s so…not likeJade? Yet is like him at the same time?

A moment of respite from the chaos of NRC. Enjoying one of the few things he loves about the surface world, and sharing a rare moment alone. That is Jade’s present to you….oh, and a mini terrarium. Inside you can cultivate your own fungi family :)

“Happy Birthday. A moment such as this is quite rare for us. Do not get too comfortable—after all, one misstep could send you into the next life. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know perfectly well that life would be too boring for me without you here,”

Floyd Leech

How well can you swim? Floyd remembers when you visited the ocean during Azul’s little game, but that was too boring. He wants to have fun and go swimming! Perhaps you will find a group os shrimp to bond with!

Floyd antagonizes you about your birthday weeks before it even happens. That is going to be HIS day with you and no one else’s. If the other students even THINK about taking you away??? Well, it’s been a while since he’s had the chance to squeeze anyone

Whether you want it or not, Floyd gives you one of Azul’s famous potions. Except this time it is going to do a little more than just let you breath under water. So, I will ask again, how well can you swim?

A drink here, a push through a portal there, and you are back in the sea. This time with fins! Even though it’s your birthday, Floyd wanted to see his little shrimpy as a mer-person and was not disappointed in the slightest. You will be doing this more often.

Instead of the traditional birthday treat, Floyd makes you try some deep-sea specialties. He teaches you to swim with your new tail (a bit impatiently, so you better learn quickly), drags you throughout the ocean, and at some point you meet Azul’s mom? Uncalled for but it’s all good.

What’s weird is how unnaturally happy Floyd is after you get the hang of swimming. He’s still overly excited and teases you like normal—although after some time he lets you simply explore and fall in love with the sea. He doesn’t have a physical present for you, but does husk out a clam for you to take home.

“Ne, Ne, Shrimpyyy~ You’re getting pretty good as swimming down here, huh? Not as good as me but isn’t it so much better to have fins than those stupid legs? You need to practice more since you’ll be living down here with me soon. Let’s come back and have fun tomorrow too!”

#twst scenarios #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto #twst azul ashengrotto #twst azul x reader #twisted wonderland azul x reader #twisted wonderland azul #twst jade leech #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland jade leech #jade leech #twst floyd leech #floyd leech #floyd twisted wonderland #floyd leech x reader

[khazadspoon]

Ok, here is some Big Boss is the MRE guy. Not much at the moment, more just an exploration of the AU generally speaking. But it’s fun to explore so have it anyway.

———

“Kept you waiting, huh?”

He smiled into the camera, adjusted the angle with one hand as he scratched idly at the back of his neck with the other.

“Sorry, I had some technical issues getting things set up. But it all looks green now.”

Messages started coming in, regular watchers and subscribers greeting each other with snake and frog emojis, some sending little saluting faces and “hi Boss”es. He did a mock salute and settled back in the chair a little.

John still felt a bit nervous starting a stream. It was the same if he started filming a video, or talked to a stranger, even when answering the phone. But there was still the little thrill at being adored and looked up to. He enjoyed it despite the nerves.

“So today will mostly be a questions and answer thing, I know there are some new people joining us so be polite. Later we’ll probably take a look at a mid nineties British ration pack but that’s only if we have time.”

The moderators started putting rules into the chat box and John cracked his knuckles. “Okay. Who’s first.”

The questions started coming in.

Who’s your favourite Spice Girl?

Where did you grow up?

How did you lose your eye?

What’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten?

Do you ever get sick from eating so many weird things?

He couldn’t help chuckling at the range. There were always people asking silly questions, sometimes in jest but sometimes completely seriously, and he liked that; it was good, fun even, to be asked things that weren’t serious all the time. He had enough of that from his psychiatrist.

“I don’t know about the Spice Girls but I’ll say… Mel C. She seems pretty fun. I grew up all over, didn’t have a stable home, kind of an unusual family situation. But that’s a whole other story for another time.” He swallowed, rubbed at the eyepatch, and felt himself tense up. “The, uh, the eye was- not a good day if I’m honest. Let’s just say I was shot during a mission. Not sure I can legally go into the details anyway, confidentiality and all that.”

There were some apology messages and a few goading him on, the latter told in no uncertain terms to shut up by the mods if they wanted to stay. John rallied himself and got back to his answers.

“Food is a hard one to answer. Instant noodles are great, and some of the rations I had back when I was in active service were pretty tasty. But when there was nothing in my pack I think the King Cobra was pretty far up there. That or Russian glow caps… now they really recharge your batteries.”

A slew of snake emojis flew in, interspersed with questions and a few anecdotes from people who had similar experiences.

The next hour went by quickly. John answered more questions before taking out the British ration pack he’d bought a few weeks before. The calm control of talking about something he knew well took over. He described the packaging, the history behind its use, how to prepare it and what it tasted like; he told his viewers how he had known a British Major years ago, a man who was stereotypically obsessed with James Bond. It went well, overall. He noted a few usernames down after, people who were definitely veterans like himself, and made sure to keep an eye out for them if they came back.

He couldn’t quite remember how he’d first gotten into this life, couldn’t pinpoint the moment he went from ex-army who bought stuff online to showing other people the stuff to filming himself showing that stuff. It had just… happened. Eva had encouraged him both her and Adam saying the internet would “gobble him up”. Dr. Clark had been supportive too, offering her expertise to help him find rare specimens and letting him know if something was safe or not. And apart from the time he’d given himself food poisoning by ignoring her advice it had gone well.

She’d probably call him later and mock him about the mushrooms again. That was alright, they’d not had a proper conversation for a while.

Next door he heard laughter, the shutting of a door. A new neighbour again. There had been a few over the past ten years. He’d told Adam the place was empty but the man was happy drifting between the US and Russia when the mood struck him. There were plenty of places for him to stay, and John’s spare room was always free.

Outside he heard muffled voices, a man’s thanking someone and a “hear, take my card” before the door shut again.

His therapist had told him meeting new people was good for him, that it would help him relearn his social skills in public settings. He tried, introducing himself to people who got into conversation with him, and told himself he would go over in the next few days to say hello. Eventually, anyway, even if it took a few weeks to get round to.

The alarm on his watch beeped at him. He stood, walked to the small bathroom he kept meticulously clean, and took his pain medication. He stripped off his shirt and did his evening workout routine, his stretches, the massage he had been told to do on his arms and legs. He made dinner and watched an old movie. He went to bed, listening to the sound of someone next door getting used to a new environment.

Another day done.

#mgs #big boss #naked snake #mgs3 #big boss MRE guy au

[ktheist]

finale — show me yours & i’ll show you mine

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 2.1k

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis. 

“show me yours and i’ll show you mine.”

x

“be nice," taehyung mouths across from you as he sits next to mina.

the red handprints on his cheeks becoming more apparent with each passing minute. it was half-believable to say taehyung fell face first in the snow, got stuck there for more than two minutes and voila, sported a red face upon your return to the kim’s.

but now, you’re just lucky no one’s pointing out the very obvious palm shaped mark on his pudgy cheeks as he stuffs his face with food.

“oh, mina, do you have any plans tomorrow? you could stay over and spend christmas morning with us," mrs kim asks as she passes the bowl of the roasted potatoes seokjin’s been boasting about.

“o-oh,” the brunette stammers, holding the fork with both hands as if citing a prayer of hope, “no, i couldn’t intrude on you any longer.”

“no such thing, we’re all family here.” mrs kim waves a dismissive hand and even that brief gesture feels warm, “___’s mother and i have known your mother since we were kids and i watch you two grow up with my boys - you’re basically  daughters i never had,” she shoots you a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners.

not seeing the remark coming, you end up almost choking on the mushroom soup you’re just in the middle of enjoying.

“i can’t say i’d love to have tae as a sibling but here we are,” you jest, half-heartedly while laughter erupts from everyone at the table.

if there’s a god, please don’t let mrs kim find out i fucked her oldest son.

“i heard yuukal co is interested in your flower arrangements and wanna buy exclusive rights to have you deliver them to the company whenever they have an event lined up?” namjoon chirps up, dimples digging into his cheek as he digs into his 

“the secretary of yuukal co was an acquaintance of mine in college, that’s probably why.” the brunette says shyly, pushing her hair to the back of her ear.

“so, you’re not planning on going back to college?” 

but it’s your voice that makes her blink once and stare at you like you’re some tricky math question.

“what- oh,” she shakes her head, as if shaking away the trance that delayed her response, “i don’t know, my major has nothing to do with what i want to do so i’m thinking of taking another year off.”

you nod casually. understandingly. “i’m sure the college has plenty of spots for people who actually wants to be there, i guess.”

it’s not a new low. but it’s a kind of low you never usually stoop to.

no one seems to notice though, as mina laughs. obviously uncomfortable by your remark, “haha yeah.”

“taehyung got offered a job at the company he interned in last year,” with a smack on the aforementioned boy’s back, seokjin proudly announces.

and just like that, taehyung takes the spotlight to himself.

“oh my god, that’s wonderful news. kim taehyung, when were you going to tell us?” mrs. kim is the first to say something, eyes brimming with anticipation as she looks at him, waiting for him to tell everyone at the table more about it.

but the fact of the matter is, kim taehyung is torn between working a nine-to-five, subsequently making his parents proud or going professional as a full time gamer.

he breathes out an ‘uh...’ before his lips curl into a forced smile.

“surprise?”

x

some time after dinner, you end up drinking and playing card games. mrs kim already went to bed and it's a hour past midnight and all four of your find yourselves in your house to not disturb the kim couples.

the grinch is playing in the background because you, taehyung and mina won against namjoon and seokjin who wanted to watch frozen.

“frozen is so unchristmasy,” taehyung complained.

though, at one point, you did backtrack a little - only a teensy bit - and sided with seokjin who looked like he just won a lottery when you casually say, “i mean frozen’s got that wintry feeling and christmas is in-”

“oh girl, not you choosing a man over your best friend,” taehyung started tickling your sides as giggles erupted from your lips while trying to beg for forgiveness.

 “okay! okay! i’m grinch team all the way!”

“is that allowed? yah! you can’t say that after converting to team frozen!” seokjin’s rebuttal sounded every bit casual.

in retrospect, him joining taehyung’s ticklish assault would have felt out of character had you not fucked behind taehyung’s back nor kissed like you were star crossed lovers just hours ago.

“two against one! not fair! seokjin- ah- hahahaha!” 

one good thing came out of it though: you ended up sitting next to seokjin. it made you a little too conscious of him - of his cologne, of his thigh that brushes against yours with every movement you make and pretend like it’s nothing and of the ghost of a touch of his pinky finger that lingers on your knee when he seemingly places a hand on his own knee. 

still, it’s the closest you could ever be in public and it’s enough to tell mina to back off.

she doesn’t seem to notice but her compliments are equally distributed to everyone in the room. she seems to be the giggly drunk. giggling at every single thing everyone say.

somewhere deep in your heart, you feel the guilt gnawing because of your uncalled for hostility.

“i better get home,” she starts to stand at 3:07 am and you wave a dismissive hand, “no, it’s so late. stay over. please. you promised to make me your special hot chocolate in the morning.”

she objects at first like she turned down mrs kim’s invitation to spend christmas morning at the kim’s. and that’s how you know your views have been blinded with jealousy to see mina for who she is - a cute, lovable girl who’d be the heroine of every romance novel there is.

“oh thank you, thank you!” her arms flail around before they wrap around you in a drunken hug.

you laugh, hugging back.

x

the memories of how you huddled together like children and fell asleep in the living room, is hazy but when you wake up - the time on your screen displaying a 6 something am - you find a blanket draped over your body.

the light from the kitchen pours over the living room but not enough to wake the slumbering bodies there.

seokjin shoots you a smile when he sees you ambling over to the dining table with hair pointing in every direction, eyes squinting trying to block out the light while holding the blanket around your shoulders.

“you’re working? jinnie, it’s christmas,” you whine, head resting on his shoulder, feeling your heartbeat skip at the small contact.

he chuckles, bumping his cheek against your head before you hear the sound the keyboard again.

you stay like that, blanket curled around your body, seokjin typing away at his laptop.

that is, until his velvet voice cuts through the silence.

“so... i reckon that red handprint on tae’s cheek isn’t because he fell face first in snow.”

“it was because i slapped him in the face,” you wave your injured hand that’s now wrapped with a panda printed band aid instead of the duck ones seokjin used in the beginning.

he takes your hand, making sure not to apply too much pressure on the injury and kisses the top of your hand, “why would you do that?”

your cheeks warm at the gesture but you clear your throat, trying to play it cool, “because he told me we looked good together after all that shit he put us through.”

silence lulls in once again.

it feels like the longest you’ve ever gone with your heart palpitating inside your chest and unspoken words hovering over you but not quite reaching the who they’re supposed to reach.

“do we?” seokjin muses.

“do we... what?” you ask despite having an inkling of what he means.

“look good.” he turns to you, one arm on the table, thumb brushing against your pinky finger.

“i don’t know- we never even took selfies together.” you shrug.

“i think our selfies would look cute,” he pauses, naturally pouty lips curling into a smile, “so cute that the guys in your dm’s would be devastated to know that you’re dating me.”

“i can’t... do this,” the words slip out of your mouth like a waterfall like it’s bound to pour out of your heart through your mouth at some point, “because taehyung was... right. i don’t have a love language - even if i did, it’d be being jealous of every girl that talks to you. lashing out at those girls even though it’s completely understandable why they’d have heart eyes when they talk to you because you’re just that amazing... and... and... you like me? why?”

seokjin’s eyes look like someone personally plucked stars from the sky and trap them in those dark brown irises.

no- actually, he’s looking at you like you’re the star and he’s the moon that shines silver white rays just to have you notice him.

“who’s to say i don’t get jealous?” he cups your face, brows furrowing like you’re a math question without a solution and he’s going mad trying to figure you out, “i get so jealous at the thought of guys sliding into your dm’s, let alone make a pass on you but then i thought ‘if she’s not looking at me then i just have to try harder to make her notice me’ and i might or might not’ve reciprocated mina’s passes to make you jealous...”

you feel the corners of your lips tugging into a smile as you smack his chest lightly, “ass.”

that earns a chuckle from the man before he goes on, “but i’m not even sure what my love language is either, last i used it, i ended up getting dumped because apparently i’m too boring.”

“you’re not boring...” red flashes in your vision as you spit out the word, offended, “your dad jokes are bad but that’s what makes them so lovable. you’re so tall but you’re a literal walking teddy bear. you have biggest, kindest heart... and you’re so hung.”

something devious and prideful flashes across his eyes for the briefest moment before he asks ever so softly, “yeah?”

“yes.” you take his hands and grip them tightly, wishing the touch would convey your feelings.

“isn’t that kind of your love language?” his thumb feels callous against your skin as he rubs circles on the back of your hand. but that’s what makes this feels real - an affirmation that you’re not dreaming, “so... show me more... show yours and i’ll show you mine.”

you’d want to say you share a deep, passionate kiss to seal your promise for each other. but when you open your eyes - not knowing when you closed it - you’re staring at the white ceiling with neon starry stickers tacked up on it. 

and seokjin?

he’s nowhere to be found.

the morning air sends shivers down your spine as you pull your blanket over your head, trying to tune out taehyung’s voice.

but the universe seems set on kicking your sleepy ass of your bed when the door swings open with a bang! 

“get up! get up! it’s christmas!” the tall boy literally screams in your ears before hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potato and setting you down on the toilet in the bathroom with a “you better wash your face by the time i come back!”

you do as told.

eventually.

since the presents are all set under the christmas tree at the kim’s and you’re not looking to upload a christmas morning story in mismatched pj’s, you change into a cute totoro onesie.

mr and mrs kim got mina - she thanked you for letting her stay over last night even though you woke up to an empty house, she even has different clothes on than last night - new kits for the florist.

taehyung almost hugged you to death when he unwrapped his new ps5 that he’s been dying for.

namjoon got a new pair of gucci loafers from taehyung and booked an interrogation slot with their mother because-

“kim taehyung, where did you get all this money?”

you suspect he’s going to reveal his gaming channel to her where he got sponsors from to buy namjoon those loafers.

and seokjin gifted you with a heartshaped necklace as well as a new pc set for taehyung and a signed book of namjoon’s favorite writer that he’d been talking about for ages as well as an all expense paid trip for his parents to thailand.

“thanks for the necklace,” you lightly bump seokjin’s elbow as you come to stand next to him at the sink. he’s washing the mug he used for hot coffee.

he steals a glance at his family and mina in the living room. they’re laughing over taehyung having his head down, sitting on his calves like he’s asking for the forgiveness of a lifetime after confessing that he didn’t want to work a nine-to-five and wanted to go pro.

then his eyes find yours again. the glint in them makes your heart stop before he leans down, lips brushing yours ever so gently yet very seokjin-like.

you think your heart just burst as you freeze in your spot, staring up at the man with slightly parted lips and warm cheeks like a high school girl whose crush very obviously hinted he likes her back.

he raises a quizzical brow at your reaction before realization settles on his face and his lips curve into a smirk, “what? did you think last night was all a dream?”

x

taglist.  @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods @rjsmochii​ @kimmieloveswho​

#bts fanfic #bts fic #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts x you #seokjin x you #bts scenarios #seokjin scenarios #bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin fics #bts fics

[wannaholdhandswithfictionalmen]

(My) Sanctuary;

A/n: First Ever Fic for Genshin Impact Fandom. A fic no one asked for but the idea was living in my head rent free, so what's a girl to do except play more Genshin Impact and work on this fic. (Listened to Sanctuary & Don't think twice by Hikaru Utada while writing this -- hence my inspired and very unoriginal title for this fic because I am horrible at thinking of titles.) 

Genre: Mostly Fluff really, a pinch or two of Angst.

Warning: Implied underage drinking. Brief description of Violence. Of age drinking. 

Summary: Childhood friends with history. Unspoken feelings. Mutual pining. Circumstances and life have forced you and Diluc on different paths, but you always return to Mondstadt and Diluc always makes time for you.

Word count: 3,128

The busy streets of Mondstadt. How long had it been this time? The absence of your presence from these cobblestone paths; four, five? No. Six months. Commissions to fight greater, fierce foes across Teyvat demanded your blades and lightning. Not that it mattered much how far or long you ventured from your former home. There was only one person who meant a great deal, important even if you could not sort through all the emotions attached to him in your own heart or even dare to give voice to those emotions.

Diluc Ragnvindr. 

And despite the inner twisted, festering turmoil (of your own making) cradled in your heart for Mondstadt, Favonius Knights, The Fatui 'diplomats'. Diluc was always a reason to return. 

In fact you aren't at all surprised when you stop by Good Hunter, offering up a handful of Mora for a meal. Sitting down at a table, closing your eyes. You took in a deep breath, the air here felt different to you. Thanks to the Anemo god, Barbatos. You swear it truly is the sense, embodiment of freedom that fills your lungs and soothes you even if for a few seconds. 

A savory blend of mushrooms, chicken and noodles is your lunch for the day. After thirty minutes have passed since your arrival in Mondstadt. And Diluc is sliding into the chair across from your own, elbows on the table, arms folded. Crimson eyes silently taking in the features of you. 

"Hm. You're slacking. That's ten minutes later than before, what took your little informants so long to whisper in your ear word of me being back?" You don't even spare a look at him, taking another bite, chewing a mouthful as you wait for his reply. 

"I do have a winery to run and the protection of Mondstadt to ensure, I can't not always come rushing away for personal affairs." Diluc holds a evident edge of underlying frustration in his smooth voice. 

Your own gaze trails up and over him, taking in the exasperation and exhaustion that furrows the brow of his otherwise stoic expression-- you want to ask when he last got a full night's rest? If he was still doing his lone warrior, Darknight Hero routine? If he was as stubborn as ever shouldering the burden of his fervor desire to defend and protect. Oh, how you worry, worry and worry the weight of it all on your tongue, tightening your throat-- who takes care of you? Who stands by your side? Who defends you? Who protects you? Who lov-

Once upon a time it had been you but a vortex of mourning, sorrow, rage swallowed up your old life. Until you wanted nothing more than to never see the walls of Mondstadt ever again. One day leaving it all behind. Time was a cruel mistress, one day swiftly grew to years. The first time you returned from what would become regular disappearances--adventures. 

Damage had been done. Diluc was the one who reached out to savage your friendship and you had welcomed the chance to have him back in your life even if it would never be anything more. 

"Should I be honored that the gentleman Ragnvindr can even grace me with his company?" It's a hollow jest as you pick at your half eaten plate of food. 

"No," His dismissal of the notion is soft yet firm. "Just Diluc, a friend, who is glad to see you well again." It's never his straight-forward or blunt nature that catches you off guard, it's when the subtle but clear sincerity creeps to the surface. Open, unwavering in his honesty.  

You huff, looking down feigning disinterest yet the twitch of your lips is undeniable. Warmth, simple, gentle curls in your chest. Happiness. Flickering embers outside of the stone walls of your heart that would make Rex Lapis proud. Diluc had always been able to slip past your defenses, so easily lingering in your thoughts, in your heart. Whether he was aware of it or not. 

"I suppose I am glad to see you too. Saved me a few bottles of my favorite wine?" You ask glancing up to catch his watchful gaze, biting your bottom lip as a wide smile threatened to spread on your face. Dulic's sudden raised eyebrow says it all-- do you really need to ask? 

"Four pristine bottles of aged mixed sunsettia, valberry wine." Prideful is subtle and delicate in his voice as if Diluc would ever forget your favorite wine. Funny enough to think about how even as the unspoken king of the winery industry, he doesn't enjoy alcohol himself. Still keeping a stock of your favorite in his manor. 

"You never let me pay you and we can't really share a few glasses together, so," you hum, slowly wired up with nervous yet excited anticipation as you reach down into the bag hanging off your shoulder. Shifting through the items and materials you carried with you for cooking and crafting you find it! Grabbing a slender jug of a bottle, wrapped in cloth. Swiftly placed on the table in front of Diluc. "I brought something for you." 

It's not like grape juice is such a hard find or something Diluc could not afford himself with his abundance of wealth but you had commissioned a famous brewer to make a special blend of grapes and other berries to create a rich and sweet juice. With your own Mora to spare after a few jobs, and you had a feeling your wandering would lead back to Mondstadt. 

Diluc is steady, slow with peeling back the cloth to stare at the deep, dark purple liquid filling the glass bottle. Uncorking the bottle, Diluc takes a whiff, closing his eyes, the smile that graces his face. It's everything and so much more. "It smells delicious. Thank you, I can't wait to taste it." 

"Then we should begin our walk to the manor? I can hear my wine calling me." You leave a few Mora coins as a tip, standing up, Diluc presses the cork back into the bottle and hands it back to you for safe keeping. 

"Alright," Diluc nods, following, matching your stride with ease. "Adelinde was asking about you the other day, you know she always makes sure your room is tidy, spotless in fact." 

Stupid. How one little phrase has your stomach full of crystal flies like you are a teenager all over again. And the mention of the kind maid who still fusses over Diluc and you on occasion makes you happy. It is a nice reprieve from nights of solitude, you are content to travel alone but loneliness is a creature that waits, and waits until the right moment to sink its claws and fangs into you on the road. 

The walk from Mondstadt isn't far but you aren't expecting a fully pleasant and peaceful walk with Diluc. Outside of the gates of the city and a few minutes down the dirt road, the sight of Hilichurls is predictable. 

Small pack of fighters, five Hilichurls carrying clubs and one hulking Mitachurl with a shield. This should be fun. 

"Make sure to show me how playing the part of the nighttime hero has kept your skills sharp!" You yell with a laugh, grinning as you summon your sword, forged of dragon bone, jagged, fierce blade. Rushing forward you dodge past the throw Pyro slimes. 

You let yourself run a little wild, your Electro vision surge through you, bolts of lightning crash down on the charging Hilichurls. Shocking and stunning the monsters for a moment, that's all you need to unleash a flurry of fast slashes.

A loud, enraged howl, crashing stomps approach from your back. Anyone else would need to worry or doubt--you don't. The familiar roar and rumble of flames fills the air, the scorning heat of it nipping behind you. Diluc doesn't even let that Mitcahurl so much as graze you, his grunts and shouts clash with its growl and howls as his flame imbued blade breaks and burns through the beast's wooden shield. Leaving ashes flying in the air and the heavy smell of smoke and fire. 

You electrify the Hilichurls, slowing, paralyzing the small beasts until they are left vulnerable and weak against you. The perfect targets. You cleave one's head off, stab straight through the mask of another, impale the chest of another. Delivering killing blows with precision and force. Wiping them out, you turn in time to see the beauty of Diluc. 

Rapid, graceful, relentless, ferocity embraced in unyielding flames. The towering giant Hilichurl is left staggering, stumbling under the strikes of Diluc's claymore left all too unprotected without its shield to hide behind. Diluc turns up the heat quite literally, the soaring, blazing phoenix that emerged from his own vision and will, his flames destroy the Mitcahurl, wiping out its pitiful existence effortlessly. 

Diluc shakes a bit of lingering flames and smoke off the steel of his blade with a sweeping slash at the air, standing among darkened, black grass, a gust of wind sways his hair and he looks over his shoulder. It is surely a moment deserving of immortalizing in portrait, his bright red hair blowing in the wind, holding his greatsword in one hand, sunlight giving him an ethereal glow, gazing at you. 

Giving a slow applause, you whistle and laugh. "Flashy as ever, Diluc." 

"The pyro element leaves little room for anything else. Still it's efficient and powerful," Diluc turns to face you, letting go of the hilt of his sword as it vanishes, unneeded outside of battle. "However, it's not something you could critique me on, when anyone for miles could see your lightning." 

"Fair enough." 

Besides a few stray slimes, the rest of your walk is undisturbed, reaching the winery as nightfall, the sun dipping below the horizon. 

"(Name) it is good to see you well." Adelinde smiles upon seeing you as Diluc opens the front door and holds it open for you to walk in first. She hugs you, it's hard not to melt into her tight cradle. 

"Have you been eating well? Sleeping accordingly? Not just naps. Taking breaks in between all your monster hunting?" Her lovingly stern questions always feel comforting in a way that is odd to describe and felt deeply. 

"I am still standing, Adelinde, fully rested and my stomach is full at the moment." 

"You would do well to keep it as such." Adelinde levels you with a motherly look of if you do not take care of yourself, I will which should be hard to make look threatening but the older woman handles it with years of expertise. She has worried over guests, Diluc, Kaeya, you for many, many years in the pact and many to come you are certain. 

"Adelinde, please have the bottles of sunsettia, valberry wine brought up, we-" 

"One step ahead of you, Master Diluc. Hillie and Moco brought them up a short while ago, I hope you two enjoy your time together." Adelinde leaves the manor, you aren't sure what work needs to be done on the grounds, you know for a fact Adeline specifically tries to do outside chores during daylight hours. It's an obvious tell for someone who knows her, she is ensuring you and Diluc remain alone for now. An avid supporter of your friendship you suppose. 

Diluc barely gets to call out a 'thank you!' as she is shutting the door. 

You stroll across the room, not much has changed at all. Your destination is the furniture set by the fireplace, the small, round table paired with two cushioned chairs. Pulling out the bottle of juice to place on the table top next to the bottles of wine, to cups awaiting you both. 

Pouring your first cup, you are eager, excited to taste the almost sickeningly sweet flavor of the wine. It never seems to taste the same from any other winery or brewery or even in the company of others. 

Moments of comfortable quiet drift by as you slowly, steadily sip and savory the wine. 

When Diluc takes the first taste of your gift and his low moan of approval as he swallows. Oh. You could listen to that again and again. All husky, raspy delight that sends shivers down your spine. It feels good to bring any kind of bliss to Diluc, even the simplest kind by providing him a drink he loves. 

You get the mutual feeling of being watched as you drink, sighing and smiling at the taste, the feeling of nostalgia creeps up on you. 

"I remember the first time I tasted this wine. We were barely teenagers sneaking down into the cellar. I badly wanted to try the wine everyone in Mondstadt wouldn't shut up about," you recall it interrupting yourself with short, full breaths of levity. Far too amused by the memory to contain your laughter. "I- I asked. No- begged you to come down with me while your father was gone, saying I'd bring Kaeya instead if you didn't come, bluffing and you got as red as a flaming flower, grabbed my hand and pulled me all the way to the cellar and downstairs." 

Diluc huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. "You knew how to push my buttons too well, half of the stuff I let you talk me into was completely foolish." Staring into the lit fire as he listened to you. 

"Just half?"

"Fine. All of the escapades I let you drag me along on were absurd." 

"Your welcome as I recall you had a lot of fun." 

"At the risk of a lot of trouble, you tested the lengths of even my father's generous patience." Diluc shook his head, the fondness in expression was plain as day. 

"Oh, remember the night after getting my gliding license, I dared you to join me on top of the cathedral to see which of us could get farther across the city, and you landed in a bush!" Several glasses of wine, one empty bottle of the tart and sweet berry alcohol and you felt even more relaxed, comfortable in the company of Diluc. 

"I, at the very least, remained dry. You were the one who crash-landed right into the fountain." Diluc smirked, sharp, sly as he chuckled, lightly tugging and adjusting the fabric of his gloves. Idle gestures as his cup stays on the table after a few sips. 

"I would rate my dive undoubtedly ten out of ten." By the Archons, it had been a miracle you both escaped from the knights of Favonius night patrol with the commotion you made, wet leather boots on stone top made you slip a few times in your dash to escape discovery. Diluc had kept a firm grip on your arm, tugging you back up and refusing to leave you behind. 

Then you remember, hiding away, pressed chest to chest, the chill of your soaked clothes clinging to you, the rise and fall of heavy, labored breaths. How close Diluc had been, that smokey, fiery scent that having pyro vision gifted him along with faint aroma of fruit thanks to the orchard of the dawn winery, he worked with his father on occasion. If you had just tilted your head up, leaned in--

"I know Kaeya was always jealous. I could talk you into anything but you refused his antics left and right." 

"It's different. I actually like you and spending time with you." Diluc's deadpan response pulls a ugly snort-laugh from you. His relationship with Kaeya is an odd one but you know deep down he cares for his brother even if things aren't exactly civil between them. 

"I feel so special." 

"As you should, I don't like people." His sarcasm, that is half-joke, half-truth keeps you laughing. 

The first wave of tiredness hits you, letting out an involuntary yawn. Your travels, the trek and fight from earlier catch up with you. Combined with the consumption of alcohol. 

"I think the wine is getting to me, I feel a little sleepy." You finish off your glass with one gulp, smooth like silk down your throat, the lack of burn makes it far too easy to want to empty all the bottles. Four. You'd certainly regret that in the morning. 

"I noticed." Diluc gets up first, three steps towards you, he is holding out his hand to you. 

"I can walk myself, I am not that drunk." You protest his offer while reaching out and taking his hand, entwining your fingers without a second thought. Diluc gives your hand a squeeze, his slender fingers lightly caressing the back of your hand. He guides you upstairs to your room as if you don't know the way by heart as if your room would ever change. 

"You would never ask for help yourself and you did break a vase the last time, even the smallest bit of intoxication seems to make you clumsier." Diluc gives his clear and absolutely unfair opinion. It happened one time!

It is really not necessary either to open the door for you, letting go of your hand only to press the large, warm palm of his hand against your back. Nor does Diluc need to kneel before you as you sit on the edge of the bed, unfastening your boots, removing your satchel and placing your belongings on the bedside table. 

"It is hilarious to hear you of all people, calling me out of not asking for help. Mister Darknight." 

Dliuc 'tsks' at the mention of his beloved hero name. "I am aware, that can be a little hypocritical." 

"A little?" 

"(Name)," Diluc speaks your name so tenderly, softly, as if the word itself is precious. "I simply want to help you, to car-" He clears his throat cutting off that train of thought. Pausing for seconds of silence pass, crimson eyes staring into your own. "If there was anyone I would accept help from it would be you." 

That is dangerously close to an admission of something else. And all every moment of the past, all the maybe(s), what-ifs, almost(s) flash through your mind. You could take the leap or let this become another memory to turn over and over in your head, wondering, wanting, yearning. 

"Get some rest." Diluc walks over to the door, standing in the open threshold of the room, hand gripping the door knob. 

"Diluc, wait" It's barely a whisper, so hushed and subdued. So low, he doesn't hear it and when Diluc looks over his shoulder, the short-lived courage in you has diminished and you can't bring yourself to voice all the longing, desire, love trapped in your heart. 

"Goodnight, Diluc."

"Goodnight, (Name)." 

#Genshin Impact #Genshin impact fics #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact one shots #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios

[oddsnendsfanfics]

The (Mis)Adventures of Kal and Moose - New Year, New Tricks

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Warnings: Fluffy NYE In

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Happy 2021! Shall we start this year off with some Kal and Moose? 

Henry Cavill Master List

“Henry,” You call glancing around his kitchen, “where did you put the mushrooms and broccoli?”

“I left it on the table, beside the noodles.” Calling back, he flipped through the television channels trying to find something to watch.

“Are you sure?” Picking up containers of open Chinese food, your brow furrows. Beside the noddles is a container of wontons,  stir fry, and egg rolls. No mushrooms and broccoli. “I don't see it,” You pout when he walks into the kitchen to prove you wrong.

“It's right...” Henry paused about to point at the take away container. “I swear, I left it right there.”

Beside you, nails click on the floor, Moose is dancing excitedly eyeing the table of food. His blue eyes sparkling with that all too familiar doggy pride.

“Moose,” You glance down at the dog, stretching he wags his tail and boofs. “You know that is my favourite,” You chide the dog, shaking your head in jest at your furry companion.

Under the table, the tell tale sounds of Kal snacking reach Henry's ears. Rolling his eyes, he sighs. He should have known better than to leave that much food unattended. These two dogs were worse than putting small children together.

“I don't think this was Moose's doing.” Leaning over to look under the table at Kal. With the evidence on his face and paws, the black and white Akita rests with the container under his nose. Licking out the remainder, he looks up at his human. “Kal!”

“Oh Bear,” You groan, trying to hide a laugh at the big dog.

Quite satisfied with his meal and himself, Kal shuffles around slowly crawling out from his hiding spot. Pausing a  moment to lick Moose's face, he burps and continues on to the living room with his friend in tow. The two were somehow always on a roll, especially when together. Grumbling about how Kal has had no manner as of late, Henry sits his plate beside yours.

“Here,” Henry began to put his portion on your plate, “have mine.”

“You don't have to share.” You laugh at the situation, leave it to your dogs to eat three quarters of a large vegetable dish. “It's fine, really.”

“I don't mind.” Henry shrugs. “I ordered it for you, I'd be kind of a dick if I didn't let you have any.”

“I'm not arguing this, am I?”

“You can try, but it will be useless. Consider that your warning.” Chuckling, Henry fills the empty spot on his plate with more noodles.

“Thanks,” You accept the offer, grabbing the bottle of beer that you'd sat down earlier and followed Henry to the living room.

“You Mister,” Henry tutted at Kal, “need to learn some manners. Since when have I ever allowed stealing from the table?”

“It was probably done with Moose's encouragement.” You laugh rolling your eyes when Moose attempted to join you on the couch, when he heard his name. “Down, please.” You gesture to the floor. Like a good boy, Moose sinks to his haunches on the floor, intently watching your fork.

“I didn't know what else to watch, is this okay?” Henry gestures to the screen. You were more than happy to watch The Hobbit, it was a solid go to, when you were unsure of what else to watch.

On the floor at your feet, Kal and Moose laid with hopes of dropped food or plates being sat down, unattended and ripe for their taking. An end of an egg roll was passed down, Moose being the lucky recipient, while Kal looked betrayed by his own human. How dare Henry give the other dog the tidbit. Moose may be his best friend, but it didn't mean Kal had to like or agree to sharing Chinese take away with him.

Crunching on the crispy treat, Moose smacked his lips in a loud fashion. Making Kal watch the act for a long as possible. Slouching and whimpering, Kal laid his head on your thigh glancing at your nearly empty plate. Conveniently forgetting about his mushroom and broccoli dish.

“Here ya go, bear.” You smile and slide him a fried wonton. Happily crunching his own treat, Kal licked his lips and whimpered again. You swear you could see him pouting, when you told him it was all gone.

Engrossed in the movie, Henry sat with his feet kicked up on the small coffee table – his mother would smack him if she saw that – enjoying the quiet New Year's Eve in. When he'd called you on Boxing Day asking if you wanted to spend New Year's Eve together, you happily agreed. Even if it was a quiet night in of four, including the two dogs.  There was no pressure. Showing up in your favourite comfy wear was expected and welcomed, as Henry had also been in his. No crowds, but still enough food and beer to feed a small one.

“Nearly midnight.” Henry checked his watch, looking over at you.

“So it is.” You nod and smile. Stifling a yawn, “If I make it.”  

“I could make some coffee.” Henry shifted around. Preparing to stand if you said Yes.

“No, it's fine. If I doze, wake me?”

“If I am still awake, sure.” He laughed softly. Kal standing and stretching, coming to his human for a pat. “We should probably let these guys out, just in case we do fall asleep.”

“Good idea.” You pause the movie, stretching slowly and standing. Calling to Moose, you follow Henry to the back door. Allowing the dogs to bound out into the small garden for a break. “Once we hit midnight, are you going to walk me home? I need that dark haired man to cross the threshold first,” You chuckle at the superstition.

“It only works if it's well after midnight.” Henry furrowed his brow, snickering. “I'd have to do it in the morning, or there is no luck.”

“So, you're going to let me walk home alone?” You tease, knowing that Henry would never.

“No, I was thinking that you and Moose could stay here. Why rush home? Hot date waiting?” He teased, calling the dogs back in.

“No,” You shake your head, feeling like a teenager defending a teasing over a non-existent crush. Grabbing another beer, you follow the dogs into the living room. Flopping down on the couch, you scoot over for Henry to sit.

“Ah,” Henry continued to tease. “Then we are in for the night? Unless you suggest we run out into the street, at midnight, finding the first person we can and planting a big one on them. You know, since you believe in superstitions.”

“I don't understand the whole kiss thing.” Rolling your eyes, you snuggle down onto the couch beside Henry.

“Are you saying that you don't like PDA?” His laugh is deep.

“I'm saying that I don't understand why people kiss strangers at midnight.” You stretch your leg, scratching Moose with your foot. “You're usually my midnight kiss, aren't ya.”

“Kal is mine.” Henry's laugh booms.

“I've had Kal kisses, they're pretty hard to beat.” Giggles taking over. More than once Kal has attacked your face in a frenzy of slobbery dog kisses.

Because you've never kissed me.

Henry wanted to kick himself, never had he thought about saying such a thing to you. Oh god. You would slap him silly and never come back, if you heard that thought. What kind of person said that to their best friend Clearing his throat, Henry shifted in his spot on the couch, “He does have some charming moves.”

“Like someone else I know,” You lean forward, Henry scooting a little closer. Perhaps this wasn't an entire bust. His heart skipped with anticipation. “Moose, Kal.” You call beckoning the dogs onto the couch. “Yes, you two are such charming gentlemen.” cooing over the dogs, who have invaded the couch you laugh when Moose decides to snuggle in and begin licking Henry's face.

“Moose,” Henry groaned pretending to push the dog away, his laughter giving him away. “C'mon mate.” He gently wrestled the dog from his sneak attack.

“Moose, down.” You giggle, ruffling the fur around Kal's neck. “You can't kiss him yet, it's not even midnight.”

Quirking his brow, Henry sighed as Moose finally gave in. Snuggling up to Henry's side instead. “I thought you didn't believe in midnight kisses.”

“I don't believe in kissing strangers, but Moose isn't a stranger.” You shrug, biting you lip to hide the smirk. “And technically, neither are you and I.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff

[evilzoldyck]

Strawberry Mushroom

“Is something wrong?” You finally asked as you watched your exasperated boyfriend stab another handful of berries into his fork, his brows furrowed together upon his usually gentle and fair face as his lips turned slightly into a frown. 

Going out for a quick breakfast in a nearby café had been your idea, you thought it to be suitable to start such a beautiful day as his usual work being a covert examiner for the hunter association left little to no time for you both to spend together.

The sun was shining blindingly from the east, there was also a cool breeze in the air as the occasional wind rustled the trees soothingly. The cafe was surrounded by inviting smell of coffees, various types of pastries, breakfast food and yet, Wing’s aggravated mood was enough to dampen the spirits of a lovely Sunday morning. 

“Nothing,” he replied bluntly. For someone with such a stern and intuitive nature, Wing really does wear his heart on his sleeves. It was clear that he was upset and yet you haven’t had the slightest clue for the reason of his discontent. Halting his slightly violent ministrations on the poor strawberries by placing your hand on top of his, you forced him to finally stop and acknowledge you properly.

“Please tell me,” you softly pleaded as you looked into his eyes sincerely.

Wing sighed and averted your look by dropping his gaze before muttering out, “you seemed to be quite interested in that tattooed up barista.”

That was it? You couldn’t even remember your interaction with said man, not to mention his name or his face. Whatever happened previously, it seemed enough to upset your boyfriend.

“What do you mean? Nothing happened back then,” you attempted to assuage him while also genuinely not knowing what he was so irritated about. You didn’t see it but the way Wing clenched his fists underneath his pockets whenever that barista that burnt his coffee flashed you a charming smile and a joyous jest made him want to jump over the counter and strike him down.

Wing knew you might not notice his lecherous, wandering eyes that lingered on you for far too long for it to be a common friendly service but as your man, he couldn’t help but wished that you were more self-aware. In his perspective, all men are the same, sly and perverted waiting for someone naïve enough to toy around with before discarding them carelessly. 

“Sure and you didn’t just flirt with him in front of me.” His retort took you aback. You stared at him in shock as he resentfully ate a small piece of his breakfast, unable to form a comprehensible string of sentence.

“What are you talking about? Of course I didn’t- I would never!” You felt your heart drop at his awful accusation. He hummed dismissively before pushing his chair back to promptly stand up and grab his jacket. You continued to watch him in disbelief, feeling your eyes starting to sting once you knew he wasn’t going to stop.

“I’m going off to work,” before you could argue back that it was Sunday, he brusquely added that he had leftover work to finish to justify his absence; and just like that you were left by yourself, leaving a bitter sting on the brief breakfast date.

Holding back your tears, you didn’t want to start a scene in front of all these people as the door closed behind him with a soft jingle. You could sense where the future for the both of you will end up, you could feel the strain in your relationship as you progressed the days further with him and to be completely honest, you were scared.

You don’t know why but Wing’s inferiority complex grew each day when you were with him in which left him completely different from the man you once met and fell in love with. He was constantly paranoid of your faithfulness for him. Your loyalty, trust and respect all dissipated with the presence of another man in the room. He’d always imply how you would soon leave him for a better, a more attractive and rugged man if you had the chance, continuously putting himself down as if you were too good to be with someone like him.

It seemed like there was no words you could say were enough to convince him otherwise. His jealously was constantly festering and infecting him, detrimenting your once pure and beautiful connection.

All your friends have heard your troublesome tales with the martial arts teacher and each time, they pressingly urged you to leave him, growing weary and outraged by how the seemingly innocuous man was treating you. However, no matter what they say you couldn’t bring yourself to end it. How were you supposed to forget all the times you spent together? You held onto those memories on days like these, where his words didn’t prick at your heart and he was still here with his arms firmly held around you in a loving squeeze.

You never felt anything for anyone as much as you did for him. So you guessed that the old adage is true when they say love is blind, because you clearly were when you were with him. Overlooking his past transgressions and never delving deep into the root of the problem, only choosing to look on the surface and forget about it the very next day.

Clearly you had fallen for Wing so much that you couldn’t see anyone besides him. When he said you should let him take care of you since if the both of you was working it would be nearly impossible for you both to see each other. You weren’t much for departing with the work you clearly enjoyed but before him you did because you loved seeing him smile, seeing him happy because of you, the way he woke you up each morning, the way he shook your father’s hand and meeting your mother.

You don’t want to ever lose that.

When you returned back to your shared apartment and left behind your untouched breakfast, you chose to spend the day by trying to forget that the whole ordeal ever happened, filling your time by talking to your friends, running small errands and reading the daily news. You knew how much his job occupied his time and so you waited until the moon was at its highest for him to return.

Truth be told he hadn’t expected you to be awake when he retired back to the bedroom, instead he was pleasantly surprised when you languidly laid by the couch wearing nothing but the short silky robe that he liked with the strip hung loosely around your waist, showing much of your smooth skin that he loved to caress so much.

You stood up at his arrival letting the delicate garment fall of your shoulder in the process, nevertheless you didn’t care enough to fix it back in place once you saw Wing holding a large bundle of white roses for you. Walking closer towards him with a delighted turn of your lips, you waited for him to snap out of his daze and finally say something.

Red dusted his cheeks as he quickly stammered clumsily to get some words out. No matter how many times he had seen it, you never failed to take his breath away. The way your hair fell so prettily among your face which framed it perfectly, your alluring and graceful features that made his knees buckle at the very sight, and your smile that was so sweet he could admire it for a lifetime.

“F-For you,” he stuttered as you gratefully took it with a wide beam and a brief chuckle.

He couldn’t help but melt at the sound of your enchanting laugh that sounded like twinkling bells. It was at times like this is why he was the way he is, why he couldn’t bare it when other men looked at you knowing that they saw what he did. Wing wouldn’t admit it aloud in front of you, but he would rather die than to let others have you, just thinking of such a thought riled him up to no end that he had no other choice than to exert out his frustration on some test dummies back at the training grounds.

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly blurted out, filling the thick silence. “For leaving you, for getting angry, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that I-“ his words were cut off when you pressed your lips desperately to his. 

Wing’s hands automatically grabbed at your sides, pulling you close to him so he could feel more of you during this passionate moment. He assisted you in putting the extravagant bouquet aside on the bed as the piece that meant to signify his hopeless feelings served more as a barrier between you two.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling it through his endearingly dishevelled yet soft locks, you deepened the kiss entangling your tongues in a further exchange. One of Wing’s hand raised up to graze his knuckles along your plush cheek before grabbing the back of your head lovingly to support it.

He let out a small breath of bliss as you parted from him. There was much he wanted to say, how much guilt he felt when stormed out earlier this morning, for not keeping his emotions in check sometimes and how much he didn’t deserve the love you’re giving him right now. 

 Wing suddenly snapped out of his thoughts when you pushed him decisively to the couch where he dutifully took a seat as you lowered yourself down to the floor, never taking your effervescent eyes off of his. He couldn’t deny that the lustful yet somehow demure look from you stirred a pool of desire within him, craving more of your touches on him as he took in the lascivious view avariciously. 

Getting on your knees, he gingerly spread his legs for easier access. He inhaled sharply when you began to rub the bulge in his pants experimentally, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers to release his length from the confines of his painfully constricting piece of clothe. Your eyes strayed from his to his crotch instead where you saw a tent forming underneath his briefs. 

Wing didn’t know he could get anymore shameless as he watched you, with half lidded eyes, pulling down on the thin fabric to reveal his already hard cock. His length stood up to attention with the tip matching the pink hue on his face. It took all the will he had within him to remain calm and keep himself from losing composure by the intensity of your admiration towards his dick.

It was a size that satiated you, his girth was one that was appropriately proportional to him but you were more than happy to learn that his length was a bit bigger than average, letting Wing hit heavenly spots inside you that you alone could never imagine to reach with your dainty fingers. Taking in his cock in between your hands, you jerked him off in a slow and careful motion, watching him get even hotter as he struggled to keep his breath steady. 

“A-Ahh..” he gasped and clenched onto the edges of the couch furiously as you stroked him lazily, paying extra attention on the underside of his dick where his vein pulsed out slightly. 

Pretending to not notice his stifled whimpers and shudders, you’d hope that this would encourage him to let out his voice more. A bead of cum suddenly came from the tip of his reddened head as you squeezed onto his cock attentively. Wing saw exactly what you you did to him as his gut further constricted into a tight rope when you wiped the pearl of cum with your thumb and placed chaste kisses around the tip instead. 

Gulping down the air greedily, he grit his teeth down harshly as he shifts his face when you gave him tiny licks around the tip of his dick, playing around with the edges of his head and his slit. Finally you took his whole head into your mouth where your soft and wet tongue freely enveloped him for a sweet moment before that pleasure intensified by you rubbing your silky soft mouth further into him. The kind of pleasure that had his toes curling and his eyes rolling back.

He couldn’t contain his moans anymore when you began to zealously suck at it, gripping at his base and occasionally rubbing on his balls. You hummed down pleasantly on his cock as you went further down on him, he could feel the repercussions of your vibrations travelling through him, pulling him closer to the edge. 

This was a problem that Wing faced. If you continued to suck his dick while looking up at him with that pretty face of yours he’s afraid he could combust at any given moment.

In the midst of you going back to the tip of his head and teasing the slit to lap more of his precum before going back down to the base, Wing suddenly held onto your head to pull it back gently as if he would hurt you in the process.

“L-Let go, please l-let go sweetheart.” He hissed when you did so with a slightly audible pop as his cock recoiled up immediately after, slapping into his stomach with a wet sound from your saliva. 

Guiding you back up on the seat with him, you straddled him with your legs on either side as he pulled your hips hesitantly closer towards his. You let out a breath of laugh when you found that Wing’s glasses has been crooked all this time. While you found it endearing and so heart wrenchingly cute, you pulled it to the side safely on a nearby table as he smiled sheepishly.

His slim fingers trailed slowly closer to your cunt, pleased to find it coated and dripping in your own slick. Shyly rubbing on your entrance you let out a dreamy sigh and held onto his said hand with the other on his tensed shoulder. Lifting your hips up higher his hands moved securely up to your sides. Looking up at you in a dazed state he could’ve easily mistook you for an angel by the way the moonlight was hitting your skin, making you glow ethereally. 

As your lips hovered the tip of his cock, Wing tugged on your loosening robe letting the fabric pool down to the floor swiftly, revealing your bare self for his eyes only.

“Wing..” you sang before him as you sank slowly down on his dick, wrapping your arms around his neck and arching your back heavenly when you bottomed out. Gyrating on his length sensually, you felt him hitting your most sensitive parts with ease making you grip onto him as he hoarsely whispered out your name.

Pinching one of your peaked buds into his slightly calloused pointer finger and thumb, he rolled it fondly while he looked up earnestly at your response, going just a little rougher when you urged him on through your weak whines. 

Mewling when he tugged and pinched onto your tits, you pushed out your chest out towards him more as he eagerly fondled your mounds, tracing his lips up from your sternum up to your neck kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin affectionately. Raising your hips up only to sink back down made your tight walls drag along his cock in all kinds directions sent butterflies flying in your stomach. 

“You’re so pretty...” he breathed out absentmindedly as his thoughts were too preoccupied with how your plush walls hugged him in hot and sticky embrace. His hips moved up to meet yours, holding onto your ass this time, squeezing and groping them as he bounced you up and down.

“Wing,” you called out softly and in an instant he’s listening thoughtfully like an obedient little puppy. “Kiss me.” Immediately he leaned in to fulfil your wish, lips melding in with each other while encouraging you to open your mouth by flicking out his tongue occasionally in between to meet yours. 

Though you felt like you were on floating with the stars, it still tugged on your heart strings that no amount of sex could ever placate his jealousy. Wing may say that regretted what he said, feel remorse or become apologetic but nothing in his words implied that what he said wasn’t true. At this point you were stuck in a cycle of his envy, forever trapped in trying to balance the fine line between his ever raging emotions into one that is complacent and calm.

However there’s no telling he would ever change soon. Sometimes you feel as if you might break down by trying to pick yourself apart and build yourself up to satisfy his ever so capricious moods. You don’t know how to be good enough for him, to be something he could trust, to convince him that he had you completely besotted. 

Many might commend you for your love and patience for this man, his rancorous jealousy was one that wasn’t easy to handle. As words didn’t seem to work on him and so you naturally came to the conclusion to give him something in an attempt to show your feelings for him in the purest form. 

It was something beyond sex, a conduit to express how much you cared for him and where he stood in your heart. Looking into his eyes, you attempt to show him how much you appreciated him, how much you were dedicated and loyal only to him, valuing every thing he taught you and expressing your gratitude for every time he made you feel loved and special. 

Wing murmured out your name as his hips rocked furiously into you, feeling himself get closer to his edge. “A-Are you close?” He timidly asked as if wasn’t continuously 

bouncing you on his cock. You nodded and cried out loud when he desperately rubbed onto your clit instantaneously making you see sparks fly. Holding onto Wing, you buried your face into his neck and muffled out your moans hoping that your cries didn’t traverse too much from your bedroom and into the quiet night. 

Your orgasm was still coursing through you in jolts of electricity as he pumped his cock vigorously inside. Your plush, silky walls pulsed down on him tightly from your recent release had Wing closing his eyes and clenching on his teeth from the intensity. With a broken groan he buried himself forcefully all the way inside, letting his cum erupt from the tip and coat your cunt in white. The speed was unceremoniously welcomed, bursting out faster than you anticipated feeling the thick liquid filling up your insides.

Wing was heaving by the time he finished riding out his orgasm. Sweat perspired from the both of you as you could feel a bead rolling down your back and one along his face. He pulled out carefully and laid you against his chest, holding onto your hand to briefly kiss it on the back before rubbing it soothingly, basking in the  serene afterglow that always came after.

“I hate it when we fight,” you murmured weakly while looking up at him languorously. Wing returned your pained eyes, bearing a guilty look. 

“Me too,” he replied softly, holding your body even tighter and kissing at your shoulder sweetly. 

The night always ended with him embracing you securely in his arms, the time where you felt the most safe and loved. Though there was a whisper at the back of your mind that reminded you this wasn’t the end, that you would have to endure far more of these days with him but nevertheless, you were going to continue to fight for him. 

You’ve always pondered how long this would go on for but you have yet to contemplate on an even bigger conundrum. It wasn’t the matter of the time you should be worried about but when he would finally snap is the question. 

#god i wanna peg him #wing x reader #yandere wing #yandere wing x reader #smut #yandere x reader #reader insert #reader #toxic relationship #hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #Hunter X Hunter #Hunter x Hunter 2011 #yandere

[the-mighty-jellybean]

Black & Blue

Bruise: an injury appearing as an area of discoloured skin on the body, caused by a blow or impact rupturing underlying blood vessels...

Series Summary:

‘They littered her arms like splashes of watercolor paints, Steve couldn't stop staring, she pulled at the sleeves of her cardigan when she caught him. “I fell.” she muttered, pulling the fabric tight over her fragile body. All Steve wanted to do was pick her up, and put her in a box, like you would a broken bird. He wanted to fix this little bird, but he didn't know how.’

Pairing: Doctor!Steve x Reader, Brock x Reader

Series Warning: This story is going to be quite dark and heavy, and will contain heavy themes of domestic abuse. There will be: Violence and possible Noncon, if you are uncomfortable with any of these themes, please don't read, this book won't be for you.

Part One//

Part Two: Weight of the World 

Chapter Warnings: Strong Language, Controlling Behaviour (18+ Only)

Word Count: 3k

Trigger Warning: Domestic Abuse (Theme through out)

Y/N was the first to wake that morning; quietly groaning, as she turned over in their shared bed. Her throat was sore and tight, her hand throbbed, from the night previous. Y/N peeked one of her eyes open, to see that thankfully, Brock was still asleep.

Crawling out of bed, she hobbled to the bathroom, where she was quick to apply a light layer of makeup, to the swelling on her cheeks, as she knew that if Brock saw it, then he would feel bad, and Y/N knew what happened when Brock felt bad.  

When it came to brush her teeth she hissed, after she momentarily forgot about her injured hand, only to be painfully reminded, when she tried to squeeze some toothpaste onto her brush. By a quick examination, the small speckles of blood that had seeped through the layers of bandage, indicated that her stitches had most likely been ruptured.

While she stared at the dressing her mind was cast back, to the evening prior, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she remembers the humiliation Brock had caused her, when he decided to act out in the ER. Y/N remembers the doctor that had tried to get her to open up:

‘What was his name again…’

Y/N thought hard, but it came to nothing, she shook her head, of the thoughts, not wanting to spend too long in dream land. Glancing back at her hand, she sighed, knowing she would need to get her wound redressed, her gut sank at the idea.

Deciding to worry about that later, she crept out of their bedroom, heading downstairs, towards the kitchen, where the broken glass was still left on the floor; abandoned, fragments of it still stained with blood.

‘ “Please Brock, he’s just a friend from school, I haven’t spoken to him in years, I don’t know why he would send a request.” Y/N backed into the kitchen, as Brock held her phone, in his hand, as he continued to scroll through her Facebook friends.

“Really, whore,” Y/N flinched at the insult, and took cover behind the kitchen island, “who the fuck is Josh Grimes? Tom Rigby? Alex West? Huh, who are these men. Have you been sleeping with them behind my back, am I not good enough for you, bitch?”

Brock had rounded the corner now, and had begun to stalk towards Y/N, she cowered away, trying to appear as less confrontational as possible.

“No, no, no of course not, baby. I love you; I love you so much, please don’t shout at me.” Y/N grovelled, looking at Brock with pleading eyes, “they’re just friends from work, or school, I don’t really know them.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, if I want to shout at you, then I’m going to fucking shout at you, got it!” Brock roared, and Y/N continued to recoil, “And if you don’t know them, then why, the fuck, are they on your Facebook, why did you except their requests if you don’t know them, what did I teach you about strangers?” Brock lectured cruelly.

“I don’t know, just give me the phone and I’ll delete them,” Y/N reached for the phone, but Brock held it away from Y/N, “Brock please, I’ll just delete them, block them if I have to.”

“Are you telling me what to do again, huh are you trying to tell me what to do?” Brock spoke slowly, barely a whisper, it made Y/N tremble with fear, Y/N tried once again to reach for the phone, but Brock still held it out above his head, enjoying watching her struggle, and the way her outstretched fingers jittered.

“No I won’t, I promise…just…please…” Y/N strained the words, as she desperately tried to retrieve her phone, “please…give me…the..ah!”

SMASH

Before Y/N could think, Brock shoved her away, causing her to go crashing to the floor, in a desperate attempt to stay stood up, she had swept her arm along the kitchen surfaces, hoping to find something to cling onto. Instead she took a few of the glasses that were resting on the side with her, in her fall. Making them smash on the floor, which gave her, a jagged and sharp mattress to land on.

Y/N shrieked in pain, as the glass pieced its way into her skin. ‘

Y/N shook at the memory, as she used the dustpan and brush, to sweep up her mess, before Brock could wake up and see it.

Turning to the stove she began to make, herself and Brock some breakfast, before he had to go to work. Her breathing hitched when a strong bicep circled her waist, pulling her into a warm body.

“Hey baby, breakfast smells good.” Brock kissed along her neck, and Y/N tried to pull away from him, “don’t be like that.” Brock pulled her closer trapping her in his arms.

“Look I’m sorry about pushing you last night, I shouldn’t have done it.” Brock apologised like he always did, and Y/N leaned back into his chest, “but you’ve deleted those guys, haven’t you?”

The vice like grip on Y/N’s hips tightened, and she was almost struggling to breath.

“Of course, I did, honey.” Y/N managed to struggle out, through the shortness of breath.

“Good,” Brock pecked her cheek, releasing his grip, “you know I only do these things to protect you, don’t you baby?”

“Yeah, I know, baby, I’m lucky to have a man like you looking after me.” Y/N turned in Brock’s arms, pressing her lips to his.

“Damn right.” Brock slapped her ass, and she cringed at the sting, but didn’t let it bother her too much, and just continued to plate up, both of their breakfasts.

Brock didn’t mention the events at the hospital, didn’t even bring up what happened when you came home from the ER, he just began to shovel the eggs and bacon into his mouth.

“I’m going to be late home, I’ve got a really busy day at the office, you gonna be okay, making your own way home from work?” Brock spoke through a mouthful of food, and Y/N had to hide the grimace that she wanted to make.

“Yeah I’ll be fine, I’ll just take the subway.” She smiled, picking around her own breakfast, not really having much of an appetite.

“You sure? It can get a little scary?” Brock asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Nothing’s as scary as you’

“Yeah I’ll be all good.” Y/N spoke over her own mind, pushing that thought aside, along with the mushrooms and beans, that she left scattered across her plate.

“Oh shit, I’m going to be late.” Brock hurried, standing up abruptly, grabbing his briefcase, just before he ran out of the door, he bent down and kissed Y/N on the forehead, “bye baby, I’ll see you later, be good.”

When the sound of the front door slammed shut, Y/N slumped back in her seat, rubbing over her face with her normal hand, as she sighed in relief.

~~~~

Steve groaned when the sound of his alarm awoke him, slamming his hand down onto the buzzer to stop the ringing noise.

Turning over, he lifted the sheets over his head, pushing his head further under his pillow and closing his eyes, hoping for a few more hours sleep. However, his hopes vanished when the pounding on his bedroom door, startled him awake.

“Come on, get up. We’re going to get breakfast/lunch and most likely /dinner.” The voice of his best friend, echoed through the door, and Steve groaned once more into the mattress, as he pulled the pillow tighter over his head.

Steve remained unmoved, even when the sound of the door handle being turned, squeaked into the room.

Steve yelped when the sheets were torn off of him and he curled into a ball to combat the cold.

“Come on, Steve. Or I’ll wake you up with a prostate exam.” Bucky joked, and Steve’s eyes widened when he heard the snap of latex gloves, looking out from under his pillow.

Bucky stood in just his boxer short, wearing a pair of white latex gloves, and a mischievous grin.

“Try it, I dare you.” Steve threatened narrowing his eyes, Bucky did the same, and before either of them knew it, they were engaged in a semi-naked; high noon standoff, and the music for The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, was playing in both of their heads.

Steve was the first to break, and soon was giggling at the floppy haired, dork, stood in the middle of his room, and Bucky wasn’t far behind, as he too began to chuckle.

“But seriously get up, me and Banner are starving, and you know how Bruce get when he’s hangry.” Bucky jested, as he walked out of Steve’s room, “we don’t like him when he’s hangry.”

Steve rolled off the now bare mattress and looked at his phone to check the time.

12:30pm

Not bad, few hours sleep for an ER doctor that should have finished his shift at 12:00am but ended up finishing at 3:00am instead. Standard.

Steve and Bucky had two hours, before they were back to work on the ward, so Steve was quick to dress, pulling on a pair of joggers, and an under-armour shirt, that would go over his scrubs later.

The three of them headed into the hub of the city, heading to the Cozy Café, the groups favourite spot to grab what would be their only substantial meal of the day. Soon they would be snacking on the hospital’s finest stale sandwiches and coffee beans.

Whilst they were there, they met with their friend, Sam, who was the Police Captain for the NYPD, he was on lunch. The four of them grabbed a table and began to chow down on the waffles and pancakes.

“So, Bucky told me it got a little hairy in the ER last night, what happened?” Sam looked at Steve, whilst taking a sip of his latte, even though he was out of office, he was still in cop mode.

“Just a couple of drunks, who think Monday’s the new Saturday, nothing new.” Steve shrugged.

“Didn’t look like a drunken dispute, when me and Bruce, had to jump in to save your ass, from that jerk in cubicles.” Bucky reminded Steve, “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that girl’s face.”

“What jerk, what girl?” Sam leant forward, resting his knife and fork on his plate, as he listened intently.

“This guy, who came into the ER last night, he was aggressive, and his girl looked terrified.” Bruce explained, “Steve treated the girl for…what was it?”

“She cut her hand on some glass, although I don’t quite believe that story.” Steve told the guys, he pretended like he hadn’t given it a second thought, but in truth, he hadn’t stopped thinking about Y/N since she had run out of the ER. The way she looked at Steve with such fear, when he asked her to take her cardigan off, and the colour of the bruises on her arms, and the repetitive pattern in which they marked her skin.

“Did the guy leave a name?” By now Sam had pulled out a pen and was scribbling notes onto a napkin.

“Rumlow?” Steve said, and Sam looked at him like he knew something that Steve didn’t.

“Brock Rumlow?” Sam asked, pulling out his phone.

“Err…yeah I think that’s what she called him.” Steve had put his cutlery down, and was now leaning up onto his elbows, “why do you know him?”

“Know him…” Sam snorted, and Steve tilted his head, “I’ve worked with him.” Sam turned his mobile round, to show him the screen.

Steve’s eyes widened, as he read the information on the google page.

“Brock Rumlow, solicitor for S.H.I.E.L.D Legal Firm, wins ‘Not Guilty’ plea for known mobster, Alexander Pierce.”

Steve knew it was the Rumlow he had met in the ER, same dark menacing eyes, the twisted grin on his face resembled the sneer that he had given Steve.

“Fuck me.” Bucky choked on his waffle as he had finished reading the same page as Steve, “no wonder the guy was such a prick, he practically runs New York, or knows people, who does.”

“He’s a damn good lawyer, but true he is a prick. I always thought there was something a little funky with the dude.” Sam turned his phone off and stuffed the napkin he’d been writing into his pocket.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, his mind raced as he thought about Y/N, that’s why she was so compliant, why she let him walk all over her. The guy probably new the law like the back of his hand, every loophole and excuse.

“I don’t know, he was working with this guy, who I’d been after for months, murder, robbery, sexual assault, you name it the guy had probably done it. Me and the guys at the station were sure we had him, legit we had been working for years to try and catch this guy.”

“But…” Bucky pressed growing impatient.

“But…the guy was loaded, because of his criminal enterprise, he could afford Rumlow’s fee, which ain’t cheap by the way, and got off,” Sam sighed, and took a heavy sip of his coffee, like it was a hefty glass of bourbon, “completely cleared of all charges. Mayor T’Challa was furious, that was certainly a frosty meeting.”

“Jeez, but what made you think he was off?” Bruce questioned, having listened to everything that had been said.

“Well I saw him after the court was dismissed, and I don’t know he just seemed…off.” Sam thought hard as he tried to remember that day.

“Off how?” Steve pushed, he’d stopped eating and drinking completely, wholly absorbed in the conversation, all he could see in his mind was Y/N’s frightened eyes.

“Like despite being in a room full of Mobsters, and criminal masterminds, he knew he was the most powerful guy in the room.” Sam’s words made Steve’s blood run cold.

~~~~~

“What happened to your hand?” Hope asked you, as Y/N winced when she began folding up the mats, Hope had just used for her martial arts class.

“Oh…” Y/N stammered for a moment, caught slightly off-guard from the question, “I cut myself, chopping up some veggies for mine and Brock’s dinner.”

If there was one thing that Y/N had learned in the year and half, her and Brock had been together, was how to lie. Hope grimaced, meaning she took what Y/N was saying to be the truth.

“Oof, nasty.”

“Mmmhmm.” Y/N hummed, tuning out of their conversation, while she packed away the rest of the gym equipment.

Y/N had worked at ‘Antman 2 Superman’ gym, for over 2 years, she had always been shy, so had never really given too much of herself away, that’s why it wasn’t so suspicious, when she became even more of a recluse when she began seeing Brock. People simple saw her as a private person, little did they know, she was crying out for help, she just didn’t know the words to ask for it.

Y/N was so lost in her own little world, she didn’t hear Hope calling her name, until she was waving her hand in front of her face.

“Hello, earth to Y/N, do you want to go?” Hope stood with her hand on her hips, and Y/N tilted her head, left completely confused by what Hope was talking about.

“Sorry, I was-“

“Wasn’t listening?” Hope finished before Y/N could continue.

“Yep…sorry?” Hope smirked as she shook her head at her friend.

“As I was saying, do you want to come out tonight?” Y/N’s heart began to speed up. Yet again she was in another awkward situation, where the answer was going to have to be some amazing concoction of lies, as to why Y/N couldn’t go out.

“But it’s Tuesday,” Y/N stated, hoping that would be a good starting block for her lies; “nowhere decent will be open.”

“There’s a place called the Social Butterfly, on Atlantic Avenue. It’s open six days a week, and there’s a happy hour on Tuesday’s?” Hope tried to entice Y/N.

However, before Y/N could make any more excuses; she wasn’t looking where she was placing a weight, just as Hope realised, she was left helpless, as the rest of the shelf of rubber weights, fell onto Y/N’s foot.

Y/N yelped in pain, pulling it free from the weights, jumping up and down, clutching it in her unbandaged hand.

“Owowowow.” Y/N hopped around in a circle, whilst her foot pulsed. She tried to walk on it, but a shooting pain that spread from the bottom of her foot, all the way to her knee, had her crumbling onto the floor.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” Hope yelled, kneeling down next to Y/N, and trying to examine the slightly dented foot.

“Don’t touch it.” Y/N pushed Hope’s hands away, the prodding making it worst.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hope rushed out her apologises, retracting her hands, “we need to take you to Sinai, it could be broken?”

Hope watched as Y/N tried to stumble to her feet, but Y/N failed, and crumpled back onto the floor.

“No, I’m fine, I just need a moment.” Y/N tried to lie, but she cried out once more as she tried once again, to stand.

“Do you want me to call Brock, so he can come and get you?” Hope offered, but Y/N’s head snapped up.

“No.” she stated bluntly, “no, I don’t want to disturb him whilst he’s at work.” She responded more calmly, when she saw Hope become slightly taken aback, by her quick response.

“Well then I’ll take you.” Hope confirmed, helping Y/N to stand, by pulling her arm over her shoulder.

“But what about the gym?” Y/N hurried out, trying to dig her heal in to stop Hope from walking too quickly.

“Hun, I’m dating the owner.” Hope responded flatly, “Besides that; it’s completely dead, it’s 2:30 and the rush starts at 5, I’ll call Luis he can cover us.”

Y/N wasn’t able to protest, because she was quickly ushered out of the small business and into her friend’s car, on her way back to the scene of last night’s crime.

A/N: Could really do with the ‘Antman 2 Superman’ after this lockdown period is over. How y'all coping with quarantine life? 

Part Three//

Taglist: 

@this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru​ @cutie1365​ 

#steve rogers #steve x reader #steve fic #steve angst #doctor!steve #doctor!steve x reader #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow #dark fic #dark marvel #dark steve fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel movies #adult themes #domestic abuse

[aurilis]

hi i wanted to ask you if you could do a little fanfic like it would be if Carmen was promised to chase if you can i thank you very much🙂

Hi ! A short one is possible. As for the context, since it seems not realistic to me that Camen can be promised to anyone nowadays, I chose to do it in ancient times, more plausible. Hope you’ll like what I came up with.

Greece, ancient times.

In the streets of a city was running a little girl. Cladded in a white dress, a big smile on her face and her mid-long hair floating around her face, she was heading outside the city, to a meadow. Behind her, her nanny was running after her.

“ Please … lady Carmen … no so fast.” she breathed.

Carmen just laughed, replying that she should be faster. Carmen arrived in the meadow. She used to come here to play with her friends, some coming from another city. Here in Greece, cities were state ruled by monarchs. Carmen was the daughter of the current ruler : Dexter Sandiego.

“ Ah ! There they are !” exclaimed Carmen when spotting to silhouettes approaching.

Her nanny finally caught up with the child, just to see her running again.

“ They should stop … feeding her … on hares !” made the nanny.

Anyway, she could walk now. Carmen was greeting her friends, both coming from the neighbour city : a boy older than her, Chase, also prince and his cousin Julia. The kids began to play while the nanny met the fellow servants accompanying royalties now playing with Carmen. While keeping an eye on the children, they prepared a picnic. One hour later it was all ready to be eaten, and the servants called for the kids. They were fast to arrive, and welcomed the meal with larges smiles. They all rested a bit after that. They returned home when the sun was declining, promising to play again some other day when their lessons would let them sometime again.

Carmen went back satisfied of her day, wishing for more often moments like those. A peaceful day, a day of freedom. As a princess and future ruler, she had a lot to learn. Her days resembled like one of a minister : very busy, quite exhausting. She waited impatiently moments when she could play. Apart from that, life was peaceful, her city prospers. Carmen grew up like a mushroom.

She was still seeing her friends, their games changed as they were now teenagers : riding horses and racing, archery.

“ Hey ! You left before the signal Chase !” shouted Carmen.

She was on a beautiful dark horse.

“ Noooo you’re just too slow, surely because of those pounds you gained lately !” he teased, on his brown destrier

Carmen replied by a shocked sound, while Julia had a laugh.

“ Just you wait ! I’ll transform you into a pulp, not that it would change !”

She heeled her horse, beginning to catching up with him. But Chase didn’t say his last word and neither did his horse. They ran side by side, jesting with each other until the finish line where they spotted Julia outrunning them and winning. The losers grumbled. They let their horses resting and feeding, admiring the sky laid on the grass. Carmen breathed. She liked those moments so much. She glanced at her friends around her. Chase promised to be an attractive man later. He already was in fact … Julia would break some hearts too.

They parted at sunset too. While she was enjoying her day, Dexter was in a meeting with his counsellors. It was time to think about betrothing her. The young girl was in the process of becoming one of the most beautiful woman in Greece. Surely lots of men would want her hand. Better settle this before initiating any conflicts. So here they were, to choose a husband for her.

Carmen entered the palace in this instant. She asked her dear nanny about her father.

“ Well, he’s in the middle of a meeting right now, your highness.”

“Oh, alright I’ll see him later then.”

Carmen went to her mother she embraced. She spoke about her day of course. Helena was listening to her daughter with pleasure, around a drink.

“ Oh ?”

Carmen’s face brighten all of a sudden. She was talking about Chase, that prince from the neighbouring city. Helena stared at her daughter.

“ Well, well, well.”

Dexter arrived an instant later. He hugged Carmen, before asking how was her day. The princess joyfully answered.

“ I’m glad you have a wonderful day. Now, go to you room and change clothes for dinner will you.”

“Yes dad !”

They watched her running to her room.

“ So ? Did you find someone for her ?” asked the queen.

“ Yes.”

“ And when do you plan to discuss this with her ?”

Dexter gulped. Carmen was known to be found of freedom, not sure she’d like to learn about her betrothal.

“ We still have time for that. Starting tomorrow I’ll send an ambassador to request an audience with her promised one’s father.” announced Dexter.

Helena sighed. The sooner the better according to her, however her husband wanted to preserve their daughter’s happiness for now.

Time flowed again, while Dexter was arranging her wedding Carmen was getting closer to her friend Chase. Julia was fast to notice it and found great joy in teasing each other about that. They denied it strongly at first.

“ Come on Carmen, you should see yourself : both of you are turning ruby so deep that I’m thinking about opening a stand for barbecue, you would be the grill,  and sell it to passers-by.” made Julia.

“ Me ? N-n-n-no I’m not !” protested the princess.

Julia rolled eyes.

“ You two love each other. So please confess because your clumsiness is about to get on my nerves.”

“ You really think Chase loves me ?” asked Carmen shyly.

“ No, his blushing are simply a skin disease, and his smiles a way of ventilating his mouth !”

Carmen sniggered. The princesses parted. Carmen was thoughtful on her way home. It was true that the young man was often present in her mind lately. She waited even more impatiently to see him, and was sad more then before to part with him. The princess was musing on her possible feeling when a servant announced that her father requested her. Intrigued, she obeyed and went to him. Dexter welcomed her then invited her to sit? He said he had an important new for her. Carmen was 18, more than about time to get married. She startled hearing that. WHAT.

Dexter avoided looking at her while continuing : he starter negotiations two years ago and betrothed her. Carmen shivered. She trembled, not listening anymore. Betrothed … she was getting married. To someone she probably didn’t know, and certainly didn’t chose.

“ Carmen, are you okay ?” asked Dexter, finally noticing his daughter’s state.

Carmen didn’t respond. Instead, she stood up and ran away to her room. She was feeling nauseous. She paced in her room. All she could think bout was no. No it couldn’t be. She would never accept to marry a perfect stranger, someone she didn’t even have the slightest clue about, someone else than … She stopped. She had to do something. No way she’ll let that happen. She would chose her own destiny. Carmen closed her eyes. It would hurt her parents … but she had no other choice. The princess swiftly grabbed some clothes and money she stuffed in a bag. She stopped once again, breathless. It was a princess duty to marry someone that her parents would choose. But Carmen always figured that hers would let her have a word in it. That they would talk about it with her, trust her judgement.

Instead they didn’t. She felt betrayed in that instant. So she resumed her idea. Tying bed sheets and clothes together she made a rope. She descended by her window. Finding her horse she put tissue around his hoof to lessen sound and dragged outside. Once far enough, she ride it and ran away. Ran in the night, looking behind her. She was heading to the neighbouring city’s palace. As she was running there, someone else went in the opposite direction. She saw a familiar face. The princess stopped her horse.

“ Chase ?”

“ Carmen ?”

“ What are you doing here ?” they both asked, joining.

It appeared they were both coming to see each other. They were both promised to someone, and couldn’t accept it well … because their heart already belong to the other. They blushed again.

“ Then, let’s run away from here.” said Chase.

“ Right.”

The two of them galloped until their mount got exhausted. At dawn, they embarked in a boat to leave Greece and take refuge in Crete. They comforted each other during the trip.

Thanks to the money they both had, they could buy some land and hire three servants, with a house. They lived happily together like this for a few weeks. Lived free since a long time. Chase was thinking about proposing Carmen, and was looking for a jewel on the market. He chose a ring with a ruby. He went back home, when he noticed to familiar banner on the way. He gasped. Those were his family’s one along with Carmen’s one ! They found them ! He heeled in horse to hurry. They had to run away now. Chase barged in the house while Carmen was preparing the meal.

“ Our families ! They’re here !” he exclaimed.

Carmen went awfully pale. She pointer her finger behind Chase. Too late. They were already here. Carmen  grabbed Chase’s arm. No. It couldn’t end up like that, it just couldn’t ! She would never agree to be separated from him, forever. Chase tightened his jaw. Looked like fight was incoming. Well for Carmen he would fight a god. He spotted his father chamberlain, looking curiously jaded and not angry.

“ Seriously. Couldn’t you wait being married before running away ?” he said.

“ What ?” responded the lovers.

“ Your betrothal. Remember ?” he resumed looking at Carmen.

“ What ?”

The chamberlain lifted his head.

“ Your fathers decided to betrothed you both. Hadn’t you run away you’ll know it. We noticed your attachment to each other, and luckily you were good enough of a party to please the kings and queens. Well until you decided to stupidly flee. So can we now go back home and properly unite you ?”

Oh. Chase and Carmen looked at each other. Ooooooh the shaaaaame ! They leaned their head and agreed. They left their money to their servants for them continuing living. Back home, they didn’t dare to cross their parents’ look. The latter stopped worrying a bit when they learn they ran away together. The wedding was prepared, bride and groom eyes on the floor during most of it, ashamed by what they did. Their parents were amused in the end. More fear than harm, and they should be happy now.

“ My neck hurts from staring at the floor.” mumbled Chase, once they were alone.

“ Don’t mention it, I was looking for a hole to hide in or a bag to cover my face.” moaned Carmen.

“ Weird wedding ever.”

They lifted eyes. Little by little, they exchanged a smile. They were married. Back in home, reconciliated with their parents. Happy weird ending.

( not so short in the end.)

#carmen sandiego #chase devineaux #carchase #carmeneaux #fanfic

[indiavolowetrust]

The Obey Me Boys as RPG Bosses: Frostheart

CHAPTERS: Prologue + Beelzebub and Belphegor , Asmodeus, Satan, Leviathan, Mammon, Lucifer, ??? (YOU ARE HERE), ???, Endings

You are one of many hunters in a land cursed with everlasting winter. You yourself have become rime-touched after an attack by your fellow corrupted hunter, an incident that left you traumatized and lame. Even your hunter’s guild has resigned you to a life of mere cleaning and upkeep duties, and you have spent the last seven years in the depths of your guild’s archives.

Then the White Witch spirits your little brother away into her castle, taking with her the only family you have ever known. Armed with your trusty hunting knife and bow – and aided by your senior hunter, Simeon – you set off into the rime-cursed lands to find Luke and end the White Witch’s reign once and for all.

**Very loosely based on The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen.

Word Count: 2,369 words

TW: Blood, Violence, Gore

[???]

Despite the spread of the curse, you find that your skin grows numb at his touch. His hands -- his perfectly carved, crystalline hands -- cup the sides of your cheek with a strange tenderness, his fingers tracing the soft line of your jaw. A gentle sort of scrutiny. Then there is the matter of the man himself: his form appears to have been carved from ice, translucent as he is, and the smile that graces his delicate features shows no sign of cracking the surface of his skin. An ice sculpture brought to life, it would seem. While you’ve heard of the strange corruption that encompasses the White Witch’s realm, you would have never expected it to procure such a being.

The White Witch’s subjects have only ever attacked you. You had fought them off again and again, nearly losing your life every encounter -- and yet you can’t help but feel as if something is missing from the recollection. As if something dear and important has been torn away. You must have an audience with the White Witch, yes, but why? What could have compelled you to undertake such a dangerous journey? Why does your heart feel so hollow?

Stay away, some buried part of your conscience whispers. Your rime-touched eye discerns only an emptiness where his desires should be, the curse somehow barring you from looking within him. He’s --

“What a joyous day!” he cries, pulling you into a frigid embrace. “We’ve been expecting you, my dear. Oh, and don’t mind the castle guards -- I can always conjure up some more.”

You only blink up at him when he finally lets you pull away, confused. While it is nice not being attacked for once, you must have an audience with the White Witch. You try to make the demand in the most polite manner you can muster. Whatever reasons you may have for coming here -- you’ll certainly remember them on the way to the throne room, won’t you?

He only gives you a bewildered look. “You’ve had quite the journey, my dear! I’ll not have a guest see Her Ladyship in such an exhausted state.”

His name is Michael, you learn. While he handles many tasks in the castle -- almost too many, he says in a jesting tone -- taking care of the White Witch’s guests is highest priority. They don’t receive many guests, after all. You are led through massive halls carved from ice, pass windows and walls draped with expensive tapestries, and walk beneath cupolas adorned with reliefs of various animals. Images of serpents, oxen, crows, and more are scattered about the place. It is all you can do not to gawk openly at the sheer opulence.

You are whisked away by servants before you can protest. The ice-carved handmaidens draw a warm, rose-scented bath for you, washing away what feels like weeks of blood and grime from your skin. The clothes that have been set out for you have been sewn from fine silk, the sleeves trimmed with white fur, and it takes no less than a moment for you to note just how perfectly tailored the garments are. As if you are a mere doll, you can’t help but think. The thought settles like lead at the bottom of your stomach, an inexplicable, deep-seated worry making itself known.

Yet your misgivings are completely dispelled an hour later.

You’ve never seen such an array of fine dishes. Calf’s heart in cream sauce, pan-fried liver served with mushrooms, and cold slices of veal. Caramelized onions atop minced beef, grilled lamb with dry herbs, and a whole roast goose with golden skin. Crispy potatoes, egg-cakes, and tarts filled with root vegetables. Best of all, platters of stewed apples and berry compote topped with fresh whipped cream sit just to the side, waiting to be served. It is too much for two people to eat -- much less one person, judging by Michael’s lack of a plate -- but you don’t care. It only takes one encouraging gesture on his part for you to begin picking at the dishes, trying bits and pieces of everything. Each bite is more flavorful and perfect than the last.

A crystal goblet is placed in your hands halfway through the meal, its contents a clear, vaguely saccharine liquid. Mirrorwine, according to Michael. Some part of your conscience tells you not to drink it.

“Oh, there’s no need to be shy,” Michael assures you, handing out his own goblet for a servant to attend to. He raises it in your direction. “I believe it’ll do you some good, my dear. It is said that mirrorwine eases your aches and pains, whatever they may be.”

You wait for him to take a sip before you do -- only to find that it truly does lessen your bodily pains, just as he said it would. A single sip draws away the nagging soreness of your lame leg, and even the strain of carrying the crystalline limb seems to have disappeared. Michael gives you a knowing smile when you all but exclaim in astonishment, encouraging you to have more. If it is to your liking, he’ll call for a servant to fetch another bottle of it.

You take another long sip of the mirrorwine, feeling something like a knot unravel within you. Again there is that hollow sensation -- whereislukewhereissimeonhowcouldyouforget -- but you push it aside, enjoying the coolness washing over you. The carved chamber glistens, and Michael’s ice-like body seems to lose that strange, off-putting quality. There is only an unparalleled beauty when you look upon him, much to your surprise. How had it gone unnoticed before? How could you find fault within such a perfect being?

A third sip. A chill permeates your bones, runs its icy fingers along your spine, and embraces the confines of your weak body. You need to -- no, that’s not right. You don’t need to do anything. Why would you ever want to step outside of the castle again? You belong here. You’ve only ever belonged here.

A hand rests upon your shoulder. You look up to see Michael eyeing the empty goblet with amusement. “I would have never expected you to be such a carouser, small as you are,” he remarks.

You apologize out of embarrassment, but he merely waves it off. A gesture towards an ice-carved servant sends them scurrying out of the room. Another bottle of mirrorwine is to be served, it seems, but you don’t think you need another. Surely that would taking advantage of --

“Nonsense! You are an esteemed guest, my dear.”

A soft kiss is pressed to your brow -- a burst of winter, piercing and unyielding -- and your heart embraces the frost.

* * *

You hum happily as the comb passes through your locks, enjoying the sensation of the carved bone against your scalp. It is a wondrous thing to be tended to so well -- and by such a breathtaking creature, no less -- so you do your best to sit still. The crystallization of your lame leg seems to have spread, but Michael reassures you that it’s nothing to be worried about. It is merely a part of the process.

An ever-present feeling tugs at your thoughts at all hours of the day. You came here for something, didn’t you? You came here to see the White Witch. You must see the witch, and you do your best to remind Michael.

“But you aren’t ready yet, my little doll.” A frown graces his wonderful, perfect face. “You’re happy here, aren’t you? Do I not tend to your every need?”

He does! He does, it’s just that --

“Fret not,” says Michael, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your thoughts scatter. “You’ll see her when you’re ready. And you do want to be ready, don’t you?”

You nod obediently.

* * *

You gaze upon your reflection in the bath. Has your skin always been so bloodless? So blue? Have your eyes always been afflicted with that strange color? You blink, and your eyelids move seamlessly against the layer of hoarfrost.

* * *

“That Luke of yours has quite the natural talent for baking, wouldn’t you agree?” Michael plucks a macaron from the display, eyeing it with an almost scholar’s interest. “No experience with such delicate ingredients, no training -- and yet he is still capable of such perfection. Isn’t that wonderful?”

You only give him a confused glance. Who is this Luke? Is he a new pastry chef?

“Oh, do forgive me, my dear. That little detail always slips my mind.”

An ice-carved servant enters the room, bows, and whispers something into Michael’s ear. You pout. While Michael always takes his leave at this time, can’t he spare you just a second longer? As if sensing your thoughts -- or perhaps only expecting them, given how he’s learned nearly everything else about you -- he presses a kiss to your temple, promising to return in a moment. That intoxicating chill fills your body once more, and you let out a sigh of satisfaction.

You peruse the options on the table before you. Berry compote seems a bit too sweet to accompany the tea, as are the crepes. The rice pudding is beholden with a bit too much salt, the lemon custard has too little rum, and you’ve had stewed apples too much recently. Your gaze draws to a strange loaf on a plate on the far side of the table, and you ask a passing servant to identify it for you.

“That would be rye bread, miss,” says the ice-carved servant. “Shall I take it away for you? It is most unsightly.”

You were merely curious, you tell her. There’s no need to remove it just yet.

You as you pick up the loaf, turning it over in your hands. The bread is the color of spruce bark and almost as dense, its insides studded with seeds. While you should find it unsightly -- Michael tends to place appearance over taste when it comes to dishes -- you find that you can find no fault in it. There is only a strange sense of nostalgia.

You’ve lost something, haven’t you?

You tear off a piece of the bread with care, staring at it for a moment. Waiting. The seeds crack against your teeth when you bite down.

* * *

He smells like flour, you think, but it’s a nice smell. A comforting smell. The blizzard howls outside, Luke shivers and burns beneath his blanket, you haven’t eaten in days -- and yet you can’t help but be comforted. The baker’s eleven year old son holds you close as he wraps another one of his father’s spare blankets around you, bundling you up. Despite that, the tears still run hot and unending down your cheeks.

Stop being a crybaby, you’re seven! You’re supposed to be a big girl now! You scold yourself over and over again. How’s Luke gonna see you as his real big sister if you can’t even stop crying?

“Don’t cry, it’s okay,” he soothes you. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’m not going to leave you.”

But everyone’s already gone! Mama’s gone, Luke’s parents are gone, and now there’s no one left! If it weren’t -- if it weren’t for that stupid witch and the rime and the monsters, then --

The baker’s son only hushes you again, pulling the blanket tighter around you. You sniffle. You can stay and hide here in his family’s shed, according to him -- but how much of what he said is true? How do you know he won’t be dragged away into the woods like everybody else? How do you know he won’t just leave? The baker’s son rocks you back and forth for a few minutes before finally pulling away. There’s something he needs to get for you, apparently. Something that you’ll like.

The baker’s son returns a few minutes later and hands you something wrapped in cloth. A burnt, uneven loaf sits within it. Despite your hunger, you can’t bring yourself to want it.

“Made it myself this morning,” he says, beaming with pride. “It’s burnt, but I’m pretty sure it’s still good. I can bring more stuff tomorrow.”

You thank him, trying to discreetly wrap it up again -- but a quick glance in his direction tells you that’ll hurt his feelings. Your teeth scrape awkwardly against the burnt loaf, sinking into a particularly crunchy, scorched spot, and you try to chew as politely as you can.

He smiles.  “Well, what do you think? Good, right?”

You nod wordlessly. Your mouth is sore enough to take your mind off crying, at least for now. 

His name is Simeon, you learn. His name is Simeon, he smells like flour, he’s a terrible baker, and he promises he’ll be one of the best hunters ever. Luke is four and loves listening to his stories when Simeon can sneak away for a night. You get used to Simeon’s terrible rye bread at some point, because you would do anything for the people you love. You would do anything to protect them, even if that means telling them their rye bread is good when it nearly breaks your teeth.

* * *

The tears carve their way down your cheeks, cutting through the layer of rime. Your tea cup lies shattered on the ground, the contents spilled against the icy floor, and the body is horribly, unbearably cold. It is only then that you realize just how thin your clothes are: the silk raiment that Michael has dressed you in is paper-thin, your feet are covered only by a pair of woolen slippers, and there is no cloak in sight. Your supplies are gone.

The crow-beast had taken your dearest, most fond memories in exchange for freeing Simeon. Simeon had been let go, you remember, but where had he gone afterwards? Where exactly is Luke and what have they done to him? That ice golem -- how long has he bewitched you? How much longer do you have until the curse of the rime takes hold of you once more?

The door creaks open. Michael, the doll-maker, has returned. A knife sits beneath one of the platters at the table.

Tip: You are fighting [Michael, the Doll-maker]. Bide your time and pretend to be spellbound until you have an opening. You have only one chance.

[NEXT: ???]

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me mc #obey me michael #om simeon #om michael #om luke #om mc #frostheart #blood tw #violence tw #gore tw

[aidemint]

𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐔𝐛𝐮𝐲𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢

Word Count: 1781

Warnings: Mentions of smoking

__

I told myself I would stop smoking, for the sake of my own sanity. I'd already thrown out all the nicotine I had and invested the money in books. Judging by how many novels I'd bought with the new budget, it was a good decision. A step in the right direction, considering that I was a writer.

Sighing as I organized the pile of books on the floor, stacking them so they fit perfectly into my bookshelf, I grumbled as I fought the urge to go out and suck on my pipe. Maybe there were leftovers still stuck in there. Once I realized my thought process, I shouted and hurriedly stuffed the novels into their place and fumed. Stomping out the door, I wanted to do something to stop this toxic cycle.

I should do something different. There has to be something to do.

Maybe my horrible life was a byproduct of all the shitty decisions I made so far. My publishing company didn't fail me, at least. I couldn't say that my career was a total flop, and I had a consistent paycheck, but I just felt so damn sad and lonely all the time. Sure, I was whining, but it wasn't for no good reason.

Plus, it wasn't like I hated every single thing on the planet Earth, I was just in a rut. Motivation was fleeting and I didn't have enough energy to chase after it. Not without an excuse, at least. I spent my days tirelessly writing and working my ass off for deadlines. To think I once enjoyed writing -- that was a long time ago, when I was a child. I'd daydream for hours, weaving fantasies in my head like I was on mushrooms.

How I wished to get a glimpse of the old days, to feel what I felt way back when I wasn't like this. I was so sure I was going to die alone and miserable, since I broke all the old connections I had when I started my career. It wasn't part of the contract or anything, I just felt that if I were to be mature, then I should sever off my childhood -- drop it like a lizard to its cut-off tail.

My jaw clenched as I spotted my pipe on the ground. I picked it up, squinting in distaste, debating about whether I should or shouldn't go to the market to get another good smoke in. I could drown out my worries that way.

Scoffing at myself, I took the fragile wooden tube and broke it in half, tossing it into the bushes.

How stupid.

__

Two days later, I was still in that same mood. But instead of twiddling my thumbs and lounging around like some lazy pig, I tried to pick up a new hobby while still reminiscing at the old days.

Ah, to be young.

I sounded like some old geezer.

But I kept thinking.

I miss everyone.

__

A week passed and I could safely say I was in a better mood. My cravings weren't as bad, and I tended to chew on mint leaves rather than suck on that damn wooden pipe.

Maybe for this reason, the universe decided to gift me a surprise.

The invitation arrived by crow. I was outside, doing some garden work when that black bird flew in front of me, its beady eyes analyzing every single one of my features. For a moment, it seemed hesitant to come near, but the creature eventually hopped its way to my feet and dropped a note by them.

I could have imagined it, but it seemed as if the crow gave me a slight bow before flapping it great wings and flying away. Eyeing the rolled-up parchment carefully, I picked it up and unraveled it, curious to see what message was displayed inside.

(Y/N),

I hope this letter finds its way to you without interruption. It's been a long time since we've last spoken, so before we get to the technicalities, I'd like to know: how are you? Hopefully you're in a prosperous position, one of good wealth and balance. I remember you always went on about becoming a renowned poet, and I think you're quite close to achieving that dream. Just yesterday I bought one of your books, and the limericks and clever haikus are quite entertaining.

Anyways, the real reason I wrote to you so late in our relationship is that I've been meaning to see you again. The last time we met, if I recall it correctly, was ten years ago -- far too long of a time for friends to be separated, no?

During these years, I imagine that a lot has changed. You're out and about, pursuing your dream and accomplishing your wildest dreams. It's admirable, to say the least. Though my disability hinders the possibility of me becoming a sumo wrestler, I am doing better than expected (even though I live with that disappointment).

I've just realized, in the middle of my jest, the topic has suddenly shifted to me. It's unpleasant, seeing how little control I have over my words. Please accept my apology, (Y/N), as I don't expect you to become suddenly infatuated with my life, nor does the meeting represent a discussion about the current events happening in my little "circle."

I just truly want to catch up with you. One of my greatest wishes is to see you again after all these years. I've missed our kinship.

So please, I implore you to come. There will be a guide outside of your house an hour after this crow is delivered. Please do not be frightened by the methods taken to bring you to my estate -- I'm sure you understand based on our previous history together.

I'm looking forwards to our potential reunion.

- Kagaya Ubuyashiki

My teeth tugged at my bottom lip as I closed the scroll, feeling tears well up in my eyes. With a tidal wave of memories flooding back into my mind, I couldn't help but want to cry. Kagaya was one of the people that made my childhood worthwhile. I'd met him when I was eight, while he was nine. We spent our free time together, however small the amount was.

Despite being so young, we were always busy. I took advanced courses at home, tutored by poets and writers from across the community. My parents did all they could to help me on my way to success, which I was grateful for. I never knew what Kagaya did, as he always kept it a secret, but I appreciated him nonetheless. He seemed so mature, even at age nine.

The way he thought was like a philosopher. Whenever I showed him my work, he'd bring about inquiries that would dumbfound even the greatest of my masters. I wondered how he did it and always wanted to be like him -- diligent, thoughtful, understanding.

Even now as an adult, he never fails to blow me away with his humility.

Sighing once more as I swept the stray tears off of my face, I pocketed the scroll and continued to do my garden work until the guide came. I was just about done when a masked figure strolled up to my home and asked me if I was (Y/N) (L/N). In response, I nodded and exchanged greetings before hopping onto their back and being blindfolded by the figure.

"I hope Master already told you about the procedure," they muttered awkwardly, "It's to prevent information from leaking." I laughed lightly and waved the thought away. Too excited to see my old friend again, the commentary bounced off me like rain to an umbrella.

"It's a smart idea." With that, the guide hauled me onto their back and took off running along their designated path.

__

Once I could finally see again, I blinked for a couple moments to let my eyes adjust to the blinding light. Though my vision was blurry and I couldn't quite make out the scene in front of me, I sensed multiple presences waiting for me at the entrance to the estate. When I'd finally cleared all the fog out of my head, I felt myself instinctively draw in a small gasp.

There Kagaya was, standing in the middle of a group of colorful figures. He wore a small and docile smile, gently waving at me from a distance. I quickly thanked the guide as I slid off of their back and made my way over to him. The ravenette regarded me with a kind look, and spread his arms as a welcoming gesture.

All the world's noise seemed to come upon deaf ears the closer I got to him.

Though his lips moved and the trees rustled, all I could hear was the sound of my own heart beating, thrumming through my eardrums. The sound of the flowing of blood in my veins became more prominent as I got increasingly star-struck.

Was this reality? Or just another twisted dream that came back to haunt me?

I wanted to believe that it was real. I desperately prayed, in that moment, that this was real. Maybe in a few seconds I would wake up, breathing heavily, covered in sweat in my futon on the ground. Then I'd squeeze my eyes shut again, crying for the sweet dream to come back to me. But as my staggers became steadier, and those steady strides quickened, I had a newfound energy to hope.

To believe that my life wasn't so hopelessly lost.

When the tips of my fingers reached my friend's kimono, my heart blossomed. The silk seemed to greet my touch like they already knew each other, despite the sensation being so foreign. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I wanted to collapse onto the ground and sob until my eyes fell out of their sockets.

To think that the connections hadn't been severed, but rather weakened, was the greatest relief I'd ever experienced. It spurred me to think that maybe I could reconnect with the outside world rather than keep to myself all the time.

The possibility of not being alone and feeling a socially ambiguous made my insides tingle with excitement -- with childish wonder. There was someone who still cared for me, who still waited for me all these years, who was kind enough to reach out and contact me, the recluse, the hermit.

When I fell into his arms, breathless, I closed my eyes and finally smiled.

I could smile again.

And be thankful.

And finally feel like I was somebody.

I couldn't have asked for anything more.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kagaya #kagaya ubuyashiki #imagine #oneshot #reunion #kagaya x reader #anime

[the-durin-boys]

Mushrooms..? -- Thorin x Reader

Howdy yall I hope you like this I got this idea when I was falling asleep and u know those dreams where ur like half awake and half asleep? It was like that, and I was dreaming about this. So I got up and wrote it. 

Enjoy!

--- The morning hunt was not as successful as it could have been, Fili and Kili only bringing back two small rabbits that would, in no way, feed fifteen people. Everyone was, of course, disappointed and hungry, but all had the better mind to not complain. 

So not the best start to your day. You knew that when you signed that contract that you would be going on an adventure where the next place that you sleep, eat, and drink, would not be known or assured, so of course you knew that there would be some days where there would be little to no food. You aren’t an idiot. 

But by the gods. This. This is just awful. Just a truly awful experience.

The day before the company of Thorin Oakenshield had been run down and then chased through a field full of hidden rocks and roots, the hunters being a pack of Orcs (again). This forced the company into hiding, without a fire, and without movement for several hours. By the time the Orc pack had left, it was far too late into the night to actually go out and successfully and safely hunt for dinner. Thorin forbid the use of a fire that night, so everyone went to sleep tired, cold, and hungry, hoping that the dawn of tomorrow would bring about food and peaceful travel. And as you can see, that is not how things went down. 

Balin rationalized the lack of game in the forest to the forest just being run dry by other hunters and hungry folk. So the day started off less than lackluster, and as the company slowly and hungirly packs up their bags, the Master Burglar, Bilbo Baggins, has an idea. 

“We could go foraging. For food that is.” He pauses and looks around the lightly wooded area that the company hid in. Bilbo’s hands are at his hips as he quickly surveys the trees. “There might be some edible mushrooms and possibly some berries that might make up for a lack of breakfast.” Thorin steps forward, a stern look on his face but a gleam in his eye. 

“Well why didn’t you speak up earlier?” Thorin’s shadow all but hides the poor hobbit, who can do nothing but squeak until Bofur claps a friendly hand on his shoulder. 

“Ah, he’s only jokin’ with ya, Bilbo! Now, what were you sayin’ about those mushrooms?” 

--

It doesn’t take long for a small pack of dwarves to form, and then they’re off, being led into the forest by Bilbo. Left behind in the camp are you (you have no idea what mushrooms are good, bad, and drugs), Ori, Thorin, Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur. You kept yourself busy, puttering around the little camp, mending clothing that needed it, filling up water sacks, the like. You always did little things like this, and thus, quickly became cherished by those around you. It had gotten to such a state where the others would actually jump on your chores, and help you out. A few even asked if they could do anything for you. You politely declined, saying that you enjoyed the work, and that you are grateful for something to keep you busy, as you never liked to dottle. 

“Thorin.” You approach the king who sits smoking his pipe. Thorin quirks an eyebrow up at your funny little mannerisms and sees a small, folded stack of (just washed, your friends are considerate of you.) clothes. “You have anything that needs mending?” The lilt of your tongue always surprised him, he doesn’t know why. There’s nothing too odd or off about the way that you speak, or the grammar that you use, and maybe it’s just because Thorin’s used to hearing the gruff sounds of words being pushed past bearded lips. That’s not to say that he is complaining, no, it’s far from that. Each time you spoke Thorin could feel himself being drawn towards you, and he just wanted to sit and listen to you talk. The feelings that Thorin feels aren’t absolutely unknown, just old and dusty from not having been used in many a year. You blink down at Thorin who only just notices that he’s being staring at your lips a little bit too long, with Dwalin trying to hide his laughter behind a gulp of water. 

“Ah, no. Thank you, (Y/N).” Thorin then busies himself with smoking his pipe, and looking at the grain of the wood which suddenly got very interesting. You purse your lips and look down at Thorin, but elect to say nothing to the slight quiver of his voice, and choose to turn to Dwalin. 

“Have anything for me, Dwalin?” Dwalin rests his hand on his back, and gives you a smile. 

“All good here, lassie.” You return his smile and move to a shaded spot under a little tree, leaving Thorin and Dwalin to talk. “So. Thorin.” Thorin takes in a deep breath and promptly sputters on the smoke. Dwalin snorts at watching his King and friend get flustered like a dwarfling over the kindest of the Company. 

“Leave it, Dwalin.” The sternness that Thorin was going for gets lost in translation as he chokes on another lungful of smoke, twice now. In one day. More in one day than in an entire year. Dwalin chuckles to himself but leaves the subject be. 

--

In the forest, the rest of the dwarves and Bilbo have successfully managed to fill several sacks with wild mushrooms of all assortments. Several times throughout the little field trip Bilbo was questioned about the different types of mushrooms, giving a variety of different lessons on the types of wild mushrooms (he thought that the dwarves would have known a bit more about forest living, but that’s quite alright.), and gave many reassurances that the mushrooms that they were going to eat would not in any way get them stone, killed, or in any other way affect their health. As the group not-so-stealthily makes their way back to camp, the air seems to lift and the thought of hunger is soon to be forgotten.  

--

The boisterous noise of the small group alerted the attention of you and the others at camp, and soon, you were up with everyone else to help distribute whatever findings they had. 

There was a long debate on how the mushrooms should be cooked - and if at all. The argument was that there would have to be a fire and that there would be no point in cooking them as it would only take up time, energy, and resources. On the other hand, the mushrooms should be cooked because it would be easier to digest and would bring out the flavor of the mushrooms, and that would be a pleasant change from the tasteless water soups and dried meats that everyone had grown accustomed to. Bilbo eventually settled the debate by saying that it would probably be best to eat them raw as while it was safe to ingest, the fumes would not be too safe to inhale. 

Each portion was dished out equally and the company sat and ate the mushrooms, thankful that they had something to fill their empty bellies, though something…..odd, started to happen. Only to you, apparently. About ten minutes after you finished your portion of mushrooms, all of the colors seemed...brighter? Your body adopts this new sense of freedom, like there’s helium being pumped through your veins and it’s lifting you off the ground. You feel the days, and the yesterdays, stresses melt off of you and you giggle. Just a little giggle. A few more minutes pass and the textures of the things around you start to shift and move, and for some reason, this sends you into a fit of side-peeling laughter, and in turn, this gets the attention of literally everyone in a forty mile vicinity. 

“What’s so funny lassie?” Bofur, your best friend through this whole thing, asks, eyebrow quirked and smile on his face. 

“I don’t even know! I-” Your face pales very quickly and you almost dry heave, clapping a hand over your mouth in an instant. The rest of the company, who was watching this entire ordeal, jumps to their feet at your sudden deterioration in health. Thorin is by your side in a flash, quickly pulling your hair out of your face as Bofur turns you so that you vomit into the grassy underbrush of the forest, gagging up the little meal that you had. All Thorin could do was gently rub your back and hold your hair while you topple forward, spinning where you sat. Thorin doesn’t know when Oin arrived, but he lets him take over and do his job, whilst he moves aside to watch. 

--

Oin had eventually declared that the mushrooms were the things that had this effect on you, but “not anyone else, which is as strange as it is fascinating!”, and it had been ruled that these mushrooms had a similar effect that one of his medicines had, and he had stated that while these mushrooms had no effect on anyone else, the makeup of the human body made it so it was more like a drug than a food, and that you had simply had too much and needed to let your system calm down and clear out, which would only take about twenty to thirty minutes for the initial high, and from there, he isn’t as sure. 

Fili, Kili, and Bilbo have tasked themselves with watching you and keeping you company. Bilbo does so because he feels at fault for this situation, even though he has been assured many a time that it was not his fault that you reacted differently. Fili and Kili stayed because the way you laugh at nothing is probably the most amusing thing they have seen in a long time. Bilbo eventually moved away, taking up the stitching that you were doing to make up for what had happened. 

You had been quiet for a few minutes, staring pensively off into the distance, eyes wide and full of an unknown knowledge, something that would probably be lost as soon as your high was gone. Fili and Kili continue to jest and joke, but stop abruptly when they here you sniffle. 

“Hey hey hey hey, (Y/N). What’s wrong?” Fili asks scooting a bit closer to you. Fili doesn’t know what he did or what set you off, but as soon as he said those words, fat hot tears burst and roll down your cheeks as you start to sob. Thorin, who was walking nearby, quickly walks over and stands above his nephews. 

"What did you do?" Fili and kili look panicked. 

"We didn't do anything!" Fili cries. "She just started to cry!" Kili is just as baffled as his brother, frozen and unsure as what should be done. Thorin sighs and crouches down next to you, gently taking your hands in his. 

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" You don't look at Thorin. "(Y/N)?" Thorin tries again by gently turning your chin with his thumb and forefinger. You blink up at him with big watery eyes and Thorin can only ignore the pang in his heart. "What's wrong?" You sniffle and more tears well up in your eyes. 

"It's not fair!" Thorin's voice is smooth and gentle, unlike anything Fili and Kili have ever heard before as they stand and move away from their uncle and friend. 

"What's not fair?" You almost start to wail, and Thorin moves a bit closer, his temple braids brushing your hands.

"You have SUCH pretty hair!” Thorin freezes but you continue. “And I can't touch it and I can't play with it and I can’t even say anything about it.." your voice breaks and your lip quivers. Thorin almost laughs but manages to keep himself composed. 

"Really? You think my hair is pretty?" You grip Thorin's hands in your own and lean forward.

"Very." Your expression is dead serious for only a minute before a wide smile spreads across your face and you laugh, letting your head drop into Thorin's shoulder. "I'm feeling' tired." Thorin doesn't even try to stop the smile from spreading across his face. 

"Then I guess you best be off to bed then, huh?" 

"I guess.." you hum into his coat, letting Thorin gently pull you off of him, but your already fast asleep in Thorin's arms, leaving a very happy Thorin, and a very confused company, behind.

--

Word count: 2,092

I hope you enjoyed reading! If you want to see something specific or see a certain pairing, feel free to make requests!

Love and best to all,

-ya gorl

#Thorin Oakenshield #thorin fanfiction #thorins company #thorin x reader #thorin imagine #x reader #oneshot #the hobbit #i love thorin oakenshield so much like yall #im in love #sry for the spelling and grammar mistakes im writing this at 230 in the morning

[thebrochtuarachs]

To Begin Again: Chapter 7

Jamie passes through the stones on Beltane to 1968.

CHAPTER 7: GETTING TO KNOW YOU / The Fraser’s spend some family quality time together.

A/N: Three things: First, I am so sorry for posting this chapter so late. As a writer (or just me?), I'm always constantly questioning the quality of my work and more often than not, think that it's not worth it. But I do love to write and I love this story, so here it is. Don't worry, there's more storyline to come and I am writing it. Second, thank you all for the amazing feedback on this story ❤️ , your encouragement is one of the reasons I can move forward with posting this. You guys are the best. Third, as always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. You can even suggest a scenario if you want, just hit the comments!  ❤️

CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 AO3

Claire was feeling incredibly warm in what is supposed to be a very cold Scottish weather. She was starting to feel iffy in the heat and the quilt that covered her wasn’t helping either. She squirmed to get to a more comfortable position when she felt hands around her waist tugged her closer to the source of heat.

Unaccustomed to sharing a bed in the past decade or so, panic rose through her as her brain scrambled to remember where she was and who she was with.

Jamie.

Slowly she turned her body to face him, opened her eyes to find blue blazing ones inches away from her own. She reached out a hand to touch his face and when flesh met flesh, a relieved and uninhibited sigh passed through her lips.  “I wanted to see if you were really here”

“Maybe I’m a ghost” He teased back as they mirrored each other’s smiles in the humor of the apparent joke - not a bad way to start the morning. “I could watch you for hours, Sassenach – see how you’ve changed, how you’re the same” Jamie raised a hand to touch her hair. “Mo nighean donn, ye recall? My brown-haired lass.”

“Well, yes.” Claire said sheepishly. “I was wondering if when you’ll call me that again.” she saw Jamie burrow his brow in confusion and she immediately followed with an explanation. “You’ve called me ‘sassenach’ a number of times since you came and I was waiting when I’d hear you call me ‘mo nighean donn’ again. I know I’m not exactly the brown-haired lass anymore… If I knew you were coming, maybe I’d dye my hair black, look the same as you last saw me. Maybe, I just missed it, you calling me that…and…” She wasn’t an overly vain woman but this was Jamie – the only man she wants to want her forever. What if he doesn’t like her anymore? Suddenly realize she’s too old? Not attractive? Not enough?

Claire was rambling both in her mind and words and Jamie can feel his wife’s insecurities get the best of her in the moment. But since the moment they met some odd twenty plus years ago, he always and instinctively knew how to calm her and her fears down. After all, that is how he fell in love with her in the first place.

Softly and lovingly interrupted her. “I like the gray…mo calman geal. The way the light hits it – it’s like a bit of silver moonlight.” He said, whispering loving assurances that he can freely give her.

“Flatterer” she nudged her nose to his. “And that will get you everywhere, Mr. Fraser.” They laughed and Jamie leaned in for a quick good morning kiss.

As they broke apart, Jamie held her eyes in his, captivating her to focus to him. “But time doesna matter Sassenach, ye will always be beautiful to me.” he said so tenderly, Claire could almost cry. She buried herself even further in his embrace, wishing it were possible to be even closer than they were now.

“How can I not love a man who says such things.”

Claire lifted her head so she’s eye to eye with Jamie. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Memorizing each surface of their faces, what was familiar and unfamiliar, rekindling and re-knowing each other again, as if carefully assessing a recent purchase.

Claire spoke first, not breaking their eye contact. “A long time ago, you asked me what it was between us.”

“I remember. What it is when I touch you and you lie with me” Jamie followed up, every word memorized and etched in his brain.

“I said I didn’t know” she traced a finger up Jamie’s arm until it reached his hand and she let their fingers intertwine.

“I dinna ken either”

“I still don’t”

“But it’s still there. Aye?”

She nodded at their mutual conclusion. They might not know yet the people they’ve become now but even after all these years, they could still understand each other, know what each other’s thinking, finish each other’s thoughts and sentences. They are a little rusty but they’ll be back to their normal pace once they talk everything out soon.

Claire lifted her face, wanting another kiss before they began their day and Jamie is always happy to oblige. He leaned in but was cut short by their 20-year old daughter.

“Late Breakfast! Or Brunch!” Brianna called out as she knocked loudly on their door. They giggled as the thought of being interrupted by their adult daughter during what can be said as the beginnings of an intimate time amused them.

-

“Where’s Roger and Fiona?” Claire asked as she and Jamie emerged from their bedroom to find their daughter solitary in the kitchen stove, cooking away the rest of their meal.

“Roger had an early lecture this morning and Fiona begged this morning off since we finished so late last night, but she’ll come by later this afternoon” Bree explained away, Claire and Jamie accepting the explanation with the way their heads nodded in understanding. In truth, Bree requested Fiona to come in a little late so she could spend time alone with her parents but she was too embarrassed to admit that yet.

Claire and Jamie waited for Bree to come out with their food, the table set for three waiting for a hearty family meal together.

“I prepared or tried to prepare a full Scottish breakfast for us. Hope I did it some justice” a disclaimer before she said before presenting the food to her parents.

A combination of tomatoes, bacon, potatoes, sausage, mushrooms, beans, egg and black pudding were strategically laid across the plate and both Claire and Jamie look more than pleased with the result.

“Looks delicious, darling.” Claire said, pulling the napkin to her lap.

“Thank you, a nighean” Jamie chimed in, giving her the sweetest smile.

“What does that mean?” Bree asked as they all began eating.

“Ye’ll no have the gaelic then?” Jamie said teasingly and Bree shook her head at Jamie’s question. Of course, she hasn’t but Jamie didn’t seem to begrudged by it. It was really very understandable. “But I’ll learn, I can do it” a very determined Brianna assured him.

“Well, consider this your first class, then.  ‘A nighean’, it means ‘lass’”

“And what about the name you called mama? Sasse-nak?”

“Oh, that just means Englishman. Or Englishwoman for your mam. Outlander. Stranger. Not from Scotland” Jamie said in succession. “Though dinna call the English that, it’s actually an insult”

“You call mama an insult?” Bree asked in fascination.

Claire just nodded in agreement. “First in jest, then in affection” she explained to her daughter, then eyed Jamie having a silent conversation of their own.

“How about you, mama? Any nicknames you called Da?”

Both faces scrunched in deep thought.

“Only names I can remember yer mam calling me besides my own is ‘sadist’ and ‘bastard’” Bree laughed and Claire elbowed Jamie to the chest.

“Come to think of it,” Claire said. “I got nothing. I just called him Jamie”

“Cause it’s easier to call out when she’s in danger – which was constantly!” another elbow landed on Jamie’s chest.

They ate heartily, enjoying the feast Brianna has prepared and nurturing the time they were having as a family. They talked about anything and everything, from Bree’s first words to Claire teaching sex education at her daughter’s school, to Jamie sharing stories of when his mam made him learn knitting during rainy days at Lallybroch.

“Speaking of which, Sassenach,” the slight hesitation in his voice caused his two lasses to look up at him.

“Out with it” Claire pushed gently.

“Do ye ken what is of…Lallybroch?” he bluntly asked.

“Oh,” Claire placed her utensils down and wiped her mouth with a napkin, “Actually, Lallybroch is mine.”

“What?” now it was Brianna’s turn to put down her spoon and fork.

“I…ah” she moved her head and hand around as if painting a picture they’d suddenly understand but her two red heads just continued to stare at her in confusion and anticipation.

“I may have left Scotland but Scotland really hasn’t left me. Before we left for Boston, I asked Mrs. Graham to look it up for me and we found it. The Murray’s still lived there that time. I was happy to know that after all those years, it was still in the family. However, a few years later, Mrs. Graham sent a letter that the family was selling the estate as they are moving to the United States and couldn’t oversee it anymore, so I bought it – keep it still in the family.”

Both father and daughter are still stunned with silence so Claire continued on.

“It actually took three years for the renovations to be complete with the building as old as it was but your father built a very good foundation to it and wasn’t an issue. Don’t worry, darling,” addressing Jamie, “I kept all the history in the building, even the marks left by English in the doorway. I just updated it with modern appliance, heating and plumbing, but I made sure it felt as close to home as it was before – the furniture looks almost the same as we had back then. I was actually planning on surprising you two with a trip there but since you asked.” Claire resumed eating her breakfast, “I rent it out as a little bed and breakfast up in the highlands. It’s quite a beautiful retreat, if I say so myself”

Following her lead, Jamie and Bree returned to their food too. “When do we go?” their daughter asked.

“End of the week? Finish the classes you’re taking this week then we’ll make a trip for it. Sounds good?”

“It’s a plan, then.” Jamie said. “I canna wait to see what ye’ve done with it, Claire

They spent the in the manse just talking and getting to know each other. Their conversation mostly centered on Bree’s life from her birth to the present. The day she was born, the day she turned over by herself, the day she first walked, her first supermarket meltdown, her first lost tooth, her first day in school, the day she rode the bike in two wheels, her first overseas trip (to France!), her first school crush, her friends in Boston, her love for history and engineering, her recent graduation from high school and now studying in Harvard and all the things in between they could think about to share with him.

Frank was never mentioned and the conversation, thankfully, never needed to steer in that direction. Claire and Brianna happily recalled memories of their life, willing to share them with Jamie in the hope that it will fill a hole about how fruitful the sacrifice he made was and not a reminder how much he’s missed.

Jamie, to his credit, masked away any painful feelings he had as they shared their stories. It hurt but a larger part of him wanted to know everything about his family and he followed their stories with questions that gave him more details.

He loved hearing them talk, loved that they wanted him to know, appreciated how they carefully and gracefully pictured to him their life. He’s missed a lot but the way he sees it, Brianna grew up the way he always pictured and hoped and how Claire promised she would be, loved and raised-well.

The time went by so quickly that they only managed to look at the clock when a knock on their door interrupted them.

-

Roger could hear laughing at the other side of the door that he almost regretted disturbing them.

“What?” Brianna greeted the door. Her long red hair waved in the incoming wind and Roger was stunned.

“Sorry, I should have ringed if were still on for tonight” he hesitantly said.

“Oh, right! That seminar was tonight! I completely forgot! Wait, give me a few minutes to prepare” She ushered him in to the living room where Claire and Jamie were happily sipping their whiskey.

“Roger!” Claire rose and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Jamie stood up to nod briefly at him.

“Claire. Jamie” he acknowledged them.

“Mama! Remember the talk on ancient engineering I was telling you about the other day. That’s tonight! Would you mind if I went?”

Claire looked at Jamie and they knew the opportunity presented to them. It was a chance to be alone and whatever discussion they might have tonight, they prefer for Bree not to hear it.

“No, of course not, darling. Run up stairs in the shower and I’ll prepare your clothes” Claire said as mother and daughter disappeared upstairs, leaving Roger and Jamie alone.

Jamie offered Roger some whiskey but refused as there will be probably be some alcohol consumed at the venue. He also didn’t want to be too intoxicated to take care of Claire and Jamie Fraser’s daughter.

Roger motioned for them to sit at the sofa while waiting the Claire and Brianna and Jamie broke the silence first.  “I dinna have time to thank ye for your hospitality to me and my family”

“Ach, it’s no mind. Claire and Brianna have been the most wonderful distraction to my father’s recent passing” Roger shared.

“I’m sorry to hear it, lad” Roger quietly thanked him. After a few ticks of the clock, Roger grabbed his briefcase and turned to Jamie.

“I do not know if Claire’s mentioned it but I’m a historian.” Roger shifted the topic. “That’s what I do. I pursue. I’m like a dog with a bone. Since uncovering Claire’s secret, I’ve been helping them find you and I think I did”

“Ye did?” Jamie asked, curious. What could of him, besides Brianna, have survived the last 200 years?

He opened his briefcase and shuffled papers around until he found what he was looking for. “Well, I found an article written in 1765 in a journal called Forrester’s. It advocates the repeal on the restrictions of the import of spirits to the Scottish highlands.” He handed Jamie the paper and together they examined it. “This line – ‘For as has been known for ages past, Freedom and whiskey gang thegither’ – I think ye wrote it.”

Jamie looked at him, impressed by what he’s found. “Go on”

“Even in the opening of the article, you quote the poem again, addressing the ruling classes – ‘Ye knights an’ squires, wha’ represent our Brughs and Shires’ – this is a poem by Robert Burn, who was only six years old in 1765. This poem wasn’t written until 21 years later. Only someone with knowledge of the future could have quoted lines that hadn’t been written yet” Roger’s face was so alight with the discovery.

“It dinna indicate an author, though?” Jamie threw back, putting a little more skepticism in his findings but Roger handed him another piece of paper.

“I have the printer’s name – Alexander Malcolm – that’s ye, aye?”

“Aye, tis me. And yes, I did write this and all yer assumptions are true. Verra good, Roger!” he patted him a little too strong in the back that had Roger thumping forward a little. When he found his footing again, he went on, explaining more what he’s found.

“Tis is the start I needed to trace ye. I followed the trail back and found a little bit more about you since surviving the…war. I ken how ye survived and some pieces of your life in Broch Mordha, Ardsmuir, Helwater and back to Broch Mordha again.”

Then Roger hesitated and Jamie felt him turn serious, alarming him to what he feared most. “I ken about your other…family” Roger paused. “I was gonna tell Claire and Bree when I got back from the stones. I assume you’ve already told her…” Jamie’s eyes widened in panic but refused to look at Roger as he noticed his obvious wince. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It doesna matter. The truth shall be out one way or another. I guess ye knowing just pushes me to not keep it from her” Jamie ruefully said. He wasn’t planning on keeping his marriage to Laoghaire a secret forever but he thought they’d have more time to ease into each other again before they talked about the harder stuff.

Their connection might still be as it once was but the thread in which they were walking were still awfully thin and this revelation might just completely break it off. So no, he wasn’t planning on telling Claire…yet. But with Roger knowing, he couldn’t lie to Claire like that. He promised – after all – honesty and that has always been one of the strong pillars of their marriage. If it’s as strong as it feels it is, then hopefully, it will withstand this storm. “It was good to tell me. Thank ye, Roger”

Roger went on to share more of what he found out about Jamie’s life and he was obligingly happy to either confirm or deny his findings. Roger couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of taking advantage of Jamie and Claire with their accurate knowledge of the history he’s spent his life searching about – but he had the the closest thing to an accurate account and he can now search or confirm their story and change history as it was written. It will be a huge advancement for his career but at the end of the day, he knew he should, at least, ask permission and tell them of his intentions. .

“Do ye mind if I used all these yer telling me and modify a few facts written in our current books? It will greatly help in my career, ye ken, but I wilna do it if ye so.” Roger asked Jamie.

“Nay, write and change it. Is that not what history is about? Learning from the past in the hope ye can make a better future? Ye need to to share another perspective of history in the hopes that it can change how we see the world today – Claire told me that a long time ago, one of the things she learned traveling around the world with her Uncle Lamb.”

“If what I know is not yet written or ye feel it can add into something, then do it. I’ll be verra glad that this auld man’s wisdom is still worth something. Either way, it’ll be a shame to bring all these stories to the grave. I might as well put it out there to survive, hopefully, for a long long long time.” Jamie encouraged and Roger was the happiest kid on the block that night.

They talked more about Scottish history, Jamie surprisingly not feeling the heaviness re-telling the life he’s lived in the last twenty years. Maybe it was feeling safer in this time, maybe it was Roger and their budding kinship but astonished him that he found himself trusting him with more of his story in the very short time he’s known him. In some ways, Jamie Fraser might’ve found a new friend.

-

“Are you going to tell him everything?” Claire chuckled, eyeing Brianna from the mirror as she brushed her hair. “I can see in your eyes that you can’t wait for me to leave the house.” Stubborn and inquisitive, Brianna was certainly their daughter.

“Is there something I should not tell him about?” Claire asked, curious as to what the question meant.

Brianna shrugged. “Does he know about Daddy?”

“He does” Claire replied casually. She went to Bree and placed both of her hands on her shoulders. “The one thing Jamie and I promised to each other was to always be honest with each other. We can have secrets, but not lies – that was our rule. I will tell him everything and if he asks something, I will answer it.”

“Aren’t you scared he’ll leave if he doesn’t like what he hears? What you’ll hear?”

To be honest, it never crossed Claire’s mind until Bree mentioned it. Sure, talking about Frank with Jamie might be uncomfortable but it never occurred to her if it will be enough to drive him away. And knowing what happened to Jamie after the war, could he be the same person she fell in love with? What new demons might he carry inside him? The conversation was going to be worse than what Claire thought it would be and she already felt sick to her stomach.

“Well, that’s why we need to talk. Better have it all out now than later.” Claire said as Bree stood up, preparing to leave. “You look good to go. Ready to head out?”

Roger and Jamie were discussing clan laws just as Claire and Bree came downstairs. Both men stood up the moment they stepped on the landing.

It was going to be a long night – for all of them.

#outlander #Outlander Fanfic #outlander fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #to begin again #to begin again au #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #brianna fraser #jamie x claire x bree #jamie x claire x brianna

[littlebundleofbolts]

Dream M!A: Experience a dream specific to any or all days of the week:

Mad Monday

LS was enjoying a nice hot lazy day on the outskirts of Iacon. No work, no rude customers. All she needed was a nice cool drink and this moment would be perfect.

“Oh no, I’m late. I’m late!”

Optics wide open, LS cranes her helm and spots a pale blue minibot running across the rust bank just opposite her. The sight itself wouldn’t be unusual if not for the decorative waistcoat and pocket-watch he was sporting, as well as the mechanical set of rabbit ears poking out of the top of his helm.

“Flicker?” She calls, finally recognising the bot. ”What’s with the weird getup?”

“I’m late. I’m late, for a very important date.” The poor minibot cries, not even so much as stopping to answer LS’ question. “No time to say hello. Goodbye. I’m late. I’m very very late!”

“Late for what?” She asks, jumping to her pedes and giving chase. “Can I help?”

For such a small bot he was very fast on his pedes, giving LS the slip down the old, abandoned subway system. Not wanting to lose sight of him, LS followed him inside one of the tunnels and crawled after him. The tunnel only got darker and tighter though until she was blindly thumbing around and fell down a sudden hole.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHhhhhhh!!!!!”

The drop went on for eternity. LS thought she was reaching the centre of Cybertron itself when her fall slowed down and she was practically floating in mid air. In the distance she spotted soft light and landed harmlessly on her pedes in a tiny room with a low table in the very centre of the pit and a door opposite her, far too small, even for a minibot to squeeze through.

So where did The White Rabbit, eh, Flicker, go?

Making sure there is no other secret passage, LS kneels down in front of the door, debating on whether it was possible to squeeze herself through the gap. Not likely. Her hips were not that forgiving. At the end of her rope, LS finally turns her attention to the low table and notices a tiny glass phial sitting on it’s glass surface. Inside the phial was a suspiciously green liquid with a hand written note attached to the container.

~DRINK ME~

“I’m not one for normally doing what an inmate objects tell me to do, but since I can’t think of anything else to do down here.” She sniffs the contents. “It doesn’t smell like anything suspicious has been slipped into it.”

She swallows the contents in one gulp and squeaked as her entire body shifts and morphs into one eighth of its original size.

Success! Now she could get through the door.

The mini-minibot expected to find many things on the other side of the mystic door, but a bright clear sky with well cared for crystal garden and numerous paths was not one of them.

“Where in the name of the Allspark am I?” LS couldn’t think of anywhere on Cybertron that looked nearly as beautiful or as ancient as this place. Following the twisting path, she observes the many plants and wildlife around her, eventually hitting a fork in the road with multiple signs pointing in every direction imaginable, and none of them being remotely helpful in finding her distressed friend ”Where should I go from here?”

“That depends a good deal on where you want to go.”

Yelping, LS spins around and spots an orange, black and white mech lounging on a low hanging tree branch, which she was fairly positive had not been there before. He looked Cybertonian enough, but much like Flicker, had an peculiar set of beast-former like features. In his case, the slender mech was sporting a set of pointy ears and a long swishing tail. His appearance overall had a feline quality to it, not helped by his Cheshire grin.

“Trepan? How did you get-that’s not important right now. Listen, it doesn’t matter which way, as long as-”

“Then it doesn’t matter which way to go.” He interrupts.

“-as long as I get somewhere.”

“Keep walking and I assure you you’re bound to end up somewhere eventually.” He smirks down at her teasingly.

LS stares at him for a long hard moment, trying to figure out how he got here, what was up with his queer appearance, and why he was acting like he didn’t recognise her.

“Go that way and you’ll follow the path that will lead you to the Blue Queen,” Trepan points down the left trail. “Go that way you’ll end up on the front door step of the Mad Hatter.”He points to the right.

“Uh, no thank you. I don’t much feel like running into anymore mad people today.” She stares intently at the decorative signs, trying to ignore the piercing amber stare that greatly reminded her of a cat spotting a mouse. “I guess I’ll go and pay a visit to the Blue Queen.”

“You’re not exactly better off. See, she’s quite mad too.”

“Why are you pointing me in the direction of mad bots?”

“Oh you can’t help that. We’re all mad here.” He grins that twisted grin of his. “Even you.”

“What makes you think I’m mad?” She queries, servos on her hips.

“For starters, you’re talking to a Cheshire Cat and hoping to get an intellectual conversation out it.” He wiggles an optic ridge at her.

She couldn’t argue with his logic.

“I guess I’ll just pick a direction. “Did you see which way Flicker went?”

“Who?”

“Flicker, he’s about my height, light blue plating, running around in a panic?” Trepan blinks. “...he has long audials and a pocketwatch.”

“Oh, the White Rabbit. Why didn’t you say?” He chuckles at her furious expression. “Yes, he did say something about being late for a meeting with the Blue Queen. You might still be able to catch up with him.”

And with that he faded out of reality, his frame unwounding until only his dentae-filled grin remained, and that too popped out of existence.

“What was in that drink?” She scratches her helm, but chooses not to think on it for a moment longer. Fever dream or not she follows the path that will lead her to the Blue Queen, and hopefully, Flicker.

Unfortunately, following the path was easier said than done. Her path lead her through the emerald green forest, which only got thicker and thicker with every step. LS couldn’t keep track of the path and eventually stumbled through the peridot wilderness with no idea which way was north. Growing more and more frightened, LS kept walking until she bumps headfirst into a giant iron structure shaped like a mushroom.

“Who are you?” A deep rasping voice rumbles above her.

Craning her neck back, LS is paralysed by two piercing red optics boring into her own. Sitting on the giant mushroom shaped metal was a mauve and grey mech smoking a colourful substance that didn’t look like it was for recreational use. The colourful vapours drift out of the holes on either side of his face like angry predacon smoke

“Y-you first.” She stutters, taking a nervous step back.

He snorts and takes another puff of his pipe, blowing the vapour it right in her visage. “Why a caterpillar of course.”

LS had no retort to that as she swats the fragrance away. There was no mockery in in his tone, humour or even the slightest bit of jest. Just pure fact, as if this should be common knowledge for anyone with functioning optics.

“Of course you’re a caterpillar.” LS clutches at her helm in frustration. “You’re a caterpillar, Trepan’s a cat, Flicker’s a rabbit, and for all I know, I’m secretly a red panda!”

The mauve mech says nothing, letting the tiny femme’s tantrum run its course as he takes another puff of his pipe, the contents drifting over LS and smelling rather pleasant and soothing her nerves somewhat.

“Explain yourself.” He demands in a level tone. “Who are you?”

“I don’t even know if I can answer that question.” She sighs. “I haven’t felt like myself since I got here, you see.”

“I don’t see.” He frowns, as if she was being the unreasonable one.

“I can’t put it anymore clearly than that.” she says. “I survived a deadly fall, changed my size to that of an ant, seen a perfect blue sky while underground, and met strangers who are wearing my friends faces. It’s been a very confusing day, you understand.”

“Not a bit.” He admits.

“Well, it’s been a very strange day for ME.”

“Who. Are. YOU?” He demands, emphasising each word, smoke enveloping like forest fire

“I think you should tell me who you are first.” She snaps back.

“Why?”

“Because it’s rude to demand someone’s name when you haven’t even offered your own!”

“You know my designation.” He scoffs.

The weird part was. She did know. The moment he first spoke, his name had been hovering in the back of her helm. She couldn’t pinpoint where she knew this mech from or why his blunt tone did not come as a surprise to her.

“I have some advice for you.” Cyclonus says, interrupting her through process.. “Keep your temper.”

“Is that all?” She asks disappointingly.

“No.” He takes a long drag from his pipe and LS stands there impatiently as he takes an eternity to exhale. “Now hold still.”

Before LS can react, Cyclonus discards his pipe, jumps down from his perch and grabs the femme yb the back of her kibble. Effortlessly lifting her off the ground the two are airborne within seconds, soaring above the emerald forest.

“I thought you said you were a caterpillar?!” She screams, frantically grabbing onto his wrist.

“And now I’m a butterfly.” He drawls.

More like an ugly moth! But she keeps that thought to herself.

Thankfully they are not flying for long as they approach a grand, sapphire crystalline palace that could only belong to the Blue Queen. Cyclonus lands them safely in the courtyard and takes off into the sky without a backwards glance.

Walking across the open square with a beautiful energon fountain in the centre, LS goes looking for a palace guard who can escort her to the Queen’s throne room. She stays close to a maze hedge covered in the most beautiful diamond roses she has ever seen. At least, they were, until she spots a trail of them coated in dripping wet paint, leading to a frantic pair of drones carrying buckets of blue paint and spraying the contents onto the remaining roses.

“What are you doing?” She demands.

The drones cry out in terror and frantically panic, but quickly calm down when they spot the owner of the voice.

“We’re painting the roses blue.” The poor drone whispers, frantically spraying more paint on the next rose bud.

“Why? They look better this way.”

“The Queen demanded sapphire roses but we accidentally bought diamond seeds instead, and now its too late to grow a fresh batch in time!” The second drone snaps, craning his neck in case they were being watched.

“But painting them isn’t going to help. You can’t tell they’re suppose to be gems anymore.” Her words fell on deaf ears as they tried to get as many roses painted over as possible, doing a rather botched up job of it in the process. They were so absorbed in their work, none of them heard the approaching footsteps until a horrible shriek pierced through their audials.

“Whose been painting my crystal roses blue?!!”

The two drones look on in terror and shove the evidence into LS’ dumbstruck servos just as a tall, royal blue femme stands before them.

“Which one of you has been painting my roses blue?” Her murderous gaze falls on Lickety-Split, and her blue stained servos holding the paint can.

“Electron? Is that you?” LS blinks dumbfounded.

“Off with her helm!”

Definitely Electron.

“Why can’t we ever have a first meeting where you DON’T try to kill me?!” She drops the paint and makes a run for it, following the retreating drones into the maze.

“After them! I want them captured and put on trial so I can chop off their helms!” That didn’t sound like any legal procedure LS had ever seen, but she wasn’t about the correct the raging seeker thirsting for freshly spilt energon.

Unfortunately, LS was not nearly as effective in navigating the maze and was caught within klicks. A guard grabbing her by the servo each, she is hauled off the ground and dragged to the palace for an audience with the Blue Queen, just like she wanted.

“I want a lawyer!” She cries as the guard drop her on a stand inside a large throne room. The Blue Queen look very elegant on her golden throne, wearing her golden crown and golden sceptre, all decorated with the most beautiful blue gems LS had ever seen. She both regal and fearsome.

“This trespassing scum has been brought before her majesty’s court today for the severe crime of entering private property without permission and vandalising the Royal Square-”

“Objection!” LS interrupted the accuser. “That wasn’t me. I just happened to be there when the crime was taking place.”

Electron raised an accusing optic ridge and looked far from convinced.

“That is not what the two witnesses tell me.”

“What witnesses?”

Electron gestures to the side and LS is shocked to spot both Trepan and Cyclonus sitting with the jury. The Cheshire Cat gave her a friendly wave while The Caterpillar ignored her presence in favour of listening to the proceedings.

“Both witnesses were invited to my garden party today when they, and myself, caught you red handed!”

“They’re not red, they’re blue!“ She corrects, holding up her servos. “And I didn’t do anything wrong! I was dropped in your maze by him-” She pointed at ever stern looking Cyclonus. “And that was only because he-” She then pointed at the winking Trepan. “Told me the White Rabbit would be here!”

As if on cue, the large doors opened and a flustered and out of breath Flicker stumbled into the room.

“S-sorry I-I’m l-late, your majesty.” He heaves with every intake, servos on his knees.

“Hey Flicker.” LS waves in greeting and Flicker openly stares in confusion as the strange femme he met all the way back at the entrance somehow got here ahead of him. “I think I’ve proven my point. I did not intrude on your garden party as I was invited guest.”

Electron considers this for a moment before reluctantly nodding. “In that case I’ll chop off the helm of which ever mech you believe invited you as their plus one.”

Both mechs suddenly looked very concerned.

“But that still doesn’t excuse you of vandalising to my roses!” She tuts, the murderous glint returning to her optics.

“I told you, its wasn’t me!” LS repeats firmly. “Besides, from what I heard you didn’t even want them white to begin with!”

“That is not the point!” She snaps, sharp claws digging into the armrests of her expensive throne. “Unless you can name the real culprits to this crime, you have nothing to back your defence with.”

LS looks around at the audience and jury, but can’t tell the drone apart. She has no idea which two are the real culprit. Seeing her defeated look, Electron’s grin was sharper than any axe.

“This court finds you guilty. Your sentence is death by beheading!”

There was a cheer from the stands and the guards flank LS on both sides.

“Wait! You can’t do this!” She is swept off the ground and past the nervous White Rabbit. “No! Nonononononono!!!”

~~~~~

Lickety-Split let out a glass breaking scream as she tumble out of berth, the sound of her alarm clock blaring in her audials as she lies sprawled across the floor, safe in her sleeping quarters.

“THAT DOES IT! NO MORE MIDNIGHT SNACKING FOR ME!” She heaves, punching the alarm clock and slumping back on the ground again as her processor tries to organise everything that just happened.

Who even were half those bots?

#m!a: dream diary #m!a dream: mad monday #all of her partners in one drabble #and being very unhelpful #I was gonna add more #like the mad hatter and the march hare #and knave and the trial #but it just got longer and longer XD #maybe I'll do a looking glass sequel #but right now I have six more of these to do #and I want them to be a lot simplier XD

[convxction]

     「 ☄️ 」 — That’s… another broken dummy, but if people ask she wouldn’t tell. She looks to the person standing in the training yard, Falchion raised. “Captain, your dinner.” She gently calls to him with a smile, lifting the steaming tray in hand slightly for emphasis and awaits for the Lord to retrieve it from her.

Atop the tray is a steaming bowl of venison stew with generous chunks of carrots, potatoes and mushrooms that slathered some of the garlic mashed potatoes next to it. There’s also a very flaky looking herbed white cheddar biscuit, a roasted vegetable medley and a slice of chocolate black cherry tart. In her other hand she holds a tall glass of pomegranate iced tea.

“Do you always have people come looking for you to deliver your dinner?” She asks with a small chuckle. “I jest, but I hope you enjoy the meal. I was on mess duty today. And ah… don’t worry about how extravagant looking it is. I gathered some of my own funds and haggled with some vendors for ingredients to treat everyone a little today.”

                                            ————————–

                                                              @katsubou

                                                      —————————

The voice which called him caught his attention. Chrom turned to the voice to see Rei with a tray of food. Ah…was he late again? He has done it again. Once he starts training, he kind of forgets the world around him and focuses on perfecting every slash. 

An apologetic smile was drawn on his face as he put back the sword into its sheath and head towards the manakete. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink when Rei joked about people bringing him his food. It was not like he didn’t like eating with others, he simply…forgot. “A-ah, you did? Sorry for missing it…and for bringing it here for me…” his eyes scanned the tray as he took it over from the manakete when he looked back at Rei. “That’s…too much. You even used your pocket money for us…I’ll be sure to repay your kindness.” but now that tasty smell is tickling his nostril and his stomach? is growling to have a tase of that divine smell!

“Well, I guess that will be postponed until I eat haha. Why don’t we sit down here?” he did not even hear the manakete’s response and sat where he was standing. Table? who needs it. time for chew!  

“D–Delicious!!” he said as he stuffed his face with these nice flavors. Despite how everything seems so different but they all went quite well together. “Seriously, Rei, not to exaggerate, but you saved the shepherds’ stomachs from what we used to eat.” again, there were few people on camp who can cook something not akin to dishwashing. Rei is a blessing to have both on the field and on chores. 

#katsubou #⚔ic.⚔ (let my action prove my worth) #⚔answer.⚔ (final answer) #//bless one mama manakete #submission #//also chrom still thinks rei a guy ..sigh.