#would they care enough to greet me at midnight like they do for the others....? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wyvernest · 9 months

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mating szn

part 1 (part2)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.

Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning.

"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.

You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.

"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased.

He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck.

He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.

You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.

He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.

"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.

He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.

The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.

Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.

When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.

He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.

Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.

And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress.

He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.

His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.

"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions.

He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him.

All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear.

With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.

"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go.

And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.

His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips.

He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.

Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.

"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)

You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.

Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.

"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.

He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.

He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.

He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it.

And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts.

You're ovulating.

Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.

He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.

"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."

Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.

His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.

But you want to see more of how needy he is.

You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.

Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.

divider by @cafekitsune

HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️

a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.

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maopll · 1 year

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May I request Diluc, Ayato, Al-Haitham and Kaveh with an s/o that likes to snuggle up to the boys when they sleep together?

Hold me close

| genshin impact !

⌗:, a/n: two same requests? damn you guys are once again on to something but...yeah even I would shove my face up their chest. it looks comfy.

⌗:, warning: none, just men with big tits.

⌗:, pairings: diluc, ayato, zhongli, alhaitham, kaveh, & itto w/ gn!reader

DILUC

It's been a tiring day for both of you. Him attending to the winery and tavern, and you taking care of the house all while completing commisons and meeting with people who want to make business with Dawn winery. As always you returned first and because of the hectic day you really wanted to just hug your boyfriend as you would cuddle him to sleep but it looks like he will once again be late... you will wait for him just like you always do.

Once he was here it was already late with the clocks hand past midnight. "were you sleeping my love?" he said softly incase you were sleeping "no, was just waiting for you" you said sitting up straight and held your arms up for him to hug you. He came closer and wrapped his arms around him. He smelled like old oak and fresh grapes. classic diluc scent. He slid under the covers and hugged you but you really wanted to feel the warmth of your lover so you snuggled closer to his chest. It tickled him a little but it never annoyed him rather he liked it very much that you felt protected within his big arms. plus you wouldn't miss an opportunity to drift off to sleep as you are enveloped by his warmth.

AYATO

He is so busy everyday and you wished that he would come join you in bed everyday. you two barely get any time to talk about the things of today, what you planned tomorrow and other useless or useful things that will help both of you to get tired and just dift off to slumber. but today he was able to complete his paperwork early. you had closed your eyes but had it not been the shuffling of the covers, you wouldn't have noticed your lovers presence.

"ayato?.." he chuckled lightly as he saw you call his name while still in a sleep like state "did i wake you up sweetheart?...come here" he ushered you towards his chest and his big hands wrapped around your body. you snuggled into his chest and smiled softly. ahh, there's no place that feels this like home. within the arms of your darling. he smelled like expensive ink. he was probably busy with calligraphy before retiring for the night. he lightly stroked your hair and waited until he felt your breathing get steady. he kissed your forehead while whispering a soft "sweet dreams dear.."

ZHONGLI

Today was lantern rite. Although before you two started dating you would visit the liyue harbor during this day but this time you two decided to celebrate this day inside your lovely abode. As the day finally ended you two returned to your bed for the night.

The light in the wharf made its way towards your curtains and dimly illuminated the room as the sound of crackers in the far distance could be heard. he smiled as he is once again reminded of the liyue of today than of the past. Closing the blinds he joined you in bed who was waiting for him. You wriggled your way in his grasp and snuggled closer to his chest taking as much warmth as you could. You two had been dating for quite a while but he still he feels the same tickles in his stomach that he used to feel when you two first fell in love. He gave you one final kiss on the lips before he himself drifts away to dreamland. He wishes to feel like this once again the next day, once more for all etenities.

AL-HAITHAM

After a tiring day in the academiya as the acting Grand Sage he couldn't wait to greet his darling back who's back at the house waiting for him. Once he entered your shared abode he never forgets to announce that he is home "I am home albi" soon enough his senses were wrapped up by his favourite dish that you were cooking for dinner that night.

"Welcome back, dear." You went up to him and hugged him close. moments like these shared between you two were always cherished by him because of how homely he feels when he's with you rather than being surrounded by tons of different books. "I cooked you dinner come to the dinner table after you freshen up" you told him and he did so as he couldn't wait till he gets to eat his favourite dish that you made for him. After having your meal, you two stayed on the couch as he read a book and had your figure wrapped up around his other arm. You thought you would spend sole quality time with your lover but the softness if his chest really made you feel drowsy plus his constant heart beat was like a lullaby and only fueled your sleep to come even closer. After he noticed your stillness he chuckled a little and carried you to bed for a well deserved rest for the both of you

KAVEH

Trying to pay off debts, convincing alhaitham to let him stay and not get bankrupt once again takes a toll on his body. He gets tired but once he looks at the trinkets you give him with little notes like 'good work' 'keep going!' along with little heart and smilies drawn that he gets his energy back. he cannot wait to return to your shared abode and rest in your arms as your body heat envelops him.

It has already been a bit late collecting all the data for his next architecture masterpiece. You were waiting in the living room for him. Alhaitham had already gone back to bed. You usually go back to bed early but you decided to stay up sometime for your lover. "baby you're still awake!" he strided towards you and hugged you to his chest. After he cleaned and dressed up, no days goes by without you two cuddling eachother it's a must everyday. You between his chest and his face in your hair as he smiles softly while he hums a few traditional rhymes he heard from the desert people and the people living in the rainforest. They never fail to make you have the sweetest of dreams. He is truly is the light of your life.

ITTO

His chest is the best. You always tell him to lend his chest to let you have your nap or sleep or whatever. it's comfortable and warm with the rapid beating of his heart working as a radio for your ears.

After tagging along with him and cleaning up whatever crimes he committed for the day, you were tired and your legs were aching. you kept running with him as he ran from the tenryou commision. you wanted some well needed rest. however, bullchucker here had some other plans. to take you out to araumi and watch the sunset with you near the cliff like how you two always did. He told you about the plan but you were too tired to move another step today. so he princess carried you all the way from konda village to the araumi and sat near the sea watching the sunset with you. He had one arm under your leg and the other holding your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck while snuggling into his chest. This was a favourite spot for the both of you. Atleast twice a week would you two come here where there are no disturbances but with you two enjoying the summer sunset while basking in your lovers warmth.

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azullumi · 1 year

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wanderer and tighnari — boyfriend messages ☆彡

summary — phone calls and messages exchanged between you two.

characters — wanderer and tighnari (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, modern au, established relationship, no use of emojis in text ; headcanons

word count — 704

note — i wrote this on a different time compared to the first part so the approach in writing is different! ^^ i'll be working on requests later on

WANDERER

Midnight calls. Late night texts. Random crack of the dawn messages. Everything that happens on a whim, you name it. The peak message activity between you two happens late at night until dawn and the time that you two would stop talking will depend on your plans or schedule for the next day—you have classes? You'll either fall asleep in the midst of talking or finish the conversation by 2 in the morning at max. It's the weekend tomorrow? Expect that the two of you would either be awake the whole night, doing something together and talking to each other, or sleeping quite early to make up for the hours lost from the past few days that you should have been asleep.

Being mean is the embodiment of his being and sarcasm is the mother language of his tongue. Even in texts with the restrictions of expression as it's all locked behind and washed down to just simple letters in a rounded-corners rectangle, he is able to express and convey the tone and feeling he wants to show—hatred, disdain, confusion, and everything.

One thing that he loves to do is to just be a little gremlin, sending random images or messages in class that either distracts you because you're trying to think of what it means or because you'll end up talking to him— your attention will be all directed to him and he loves it. He knows the effect he has on you and completely takes advantage of it because why not? The opportunity is there so why not make the most out of it?

Despite all of that, however, he still looks after you. Yes, he might be a little mean at times and he could act like some sort of menace but he cherishes you and loves you. It's just like when you'll mention how you want something on that day and he'll show up later on with that thing that you want in hand, messaging you to open the door even if it's already late at night—he'll end up having to stay over and sleep at your home.

TIGHNARI

Have you eaten already? How about breakfast? Did you drink enough water? Did you skip your meal again? Oftentimes, you find yourself being asked by your own mind if you're talking to your doctor or your boyfriend—though you do appreciate how he looks after and cares for you, making sure that you're eating properly and staying healthy, bringing you food and everything when you didn't get to eat earlier that time because you were busy and didn't have time to, or when he'll look after yourself every single time that you are sick and you have to listen to his nagging especially when he'll learn that you did something which put you in that situation.

He's just always so worried about you that he checks on you as much as he can—much more if you're a reckless and careless type of person. It just feels like it's one of his nature to look after his loved ones, especially you and though it can be overwhelming at first because you might think that you're being bothersome to him, trust me, he doesn't think of you like that, you're not some troublesome thing to him and he's doing everything on his own accord. It just puts his mind at peace and his thoughts silent knowing that you're safe, healthy, or away from harm—and knowing that he's part of the reason for those makes him proud of himself.

Even through his messages, you could feel the gentleness in his tone or way of speaking in general—his choice of words makes up for all of it despite not having the habit of using emojis nor emoticons. Perhaps it was also the way he adds sweet and affectionate messages in between like him telling you that he loves you after greeting you good morning.

He's very considerate of your feelings, always taking it into account before he does something. He's the type to message you and update you on what he's doing, telling and informing you if ever he'll become busy so that you won't wonder why he is not replying to you quickly or answering any of your calls.

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lethalchiralium · 10 months

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Window to the Abbey | Happiness Series

a/n: it’s been so long! i’m so excited for the next few chapters :) WE GET KÖNIG EVERYBODY IM SO EXCITED

warning: Children, Mellie is sick :(

summary: Winnie and Mellie are cautious of the two new operators in their house, Simon’s calling, and Mellie’s sick. To say you’re handling it with grace would be an understatement.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

By the time you had headed to bed, your kids were sound asleep. All of the people in your house were fed, but only Laswell would be staying up later than you. König and Roach were meant to be arriving past midnight, and as much as you wanted to stay up and greet them, your kids always run you down by the end of the day. You were running off of fumes by the time you had showered and brushed your teeth, the familiar motion of scrubbing them felt like a warming lullaby. As the swish, swish, swish of your toothbrush sounded in the bedroom, you searched Simon’s dresser for an old shirt to sleep in. It was sweet to see that he still kept his band t-shirts from when he was a young adult, even if he confessed to you that he didn’t much care for the music now. You plucked a worn one that you often found yourself sleeping in, the band name had been washed off after years of wear.

You returned to the bathroom, spitting out the toothpaste into the sink as your phone began to ring. You looked over to the tub where your phone was sitting on the ledge, seeing the caller ID. Simon.

“Everything right?”

“Right as rain.”

“Baby’s okay?”

You settled your hands on the sink before putting your toothbrush back into the cabinet. “Simon. The baby is fine. The girls are fine. I’m eating like I should, taking the vit-a-mins-“

“Vit-a-mins,” He mocked you, pitching his voice higher. “Don’t mock me. Laswell there?”

A laugh left your lips. “Yeah, she’s here. The girls warmed up very quickly since she brought at least a thousand dollars worth of presents.”

“I’m not going to ask.”

“How’re my boys?” You grabbed your hair comb, taking a piece of hair in one hand and starting to detangle it.

“Gaz and Soap are doing fine. Being annoying as usual. Cap lost one of his good cigars.”

“I’ll find him a new one. And how’s my husband?” You kept brushing your hair, exhaustion weaving its way through your muscles. It’s just two more weeks, we can do this.

“Tired. I want to be home with you.”

Your heart already felt bruised without him, him saying that felt like another hit. You gazed at yourself in the mirror, internally waving away the feeling that Simon would come through the doorway at that very moment. “I know. I’m so tired, this baby is already takin’ everything out of me.”

“Don’t be scared to ask König or Roach for help. John already drilled them about not saying no to you.”

Your heart swelled, a smile on your face now. What you did to deserve Simon and his team, you’d never know. “He didn’t have to do that, I’m an adult.” You then gave up on completely detangling your hair, just taking the brush through it enough before you put your brush down. There wasn’t anything you needed for the soldiers to do for you, other than keep your daughters safe in the walls of your home. Your fingers gripped onto the porcelain sink, fighting the sinking feeling of abandonment. Simon is coming back, you tell yourself. He would never leave you and your girls alone.

“Yeah, but you’re my wife. My pregnant wife.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest, happiness in your heart as you moved out of the bathroom but not before shutting off the light. You kept your phone close to your ear as you moved towards your bed. “Simon, I’m barely a month and a half along, I’m not a hormonal monster yet.”

“I still want you taken care of the way I want you to be.”

You moved into your bed, sitting up against the headboard. “You’re too good to me.” You pulled the blankets up to your stomach, the hand lingering on your belly before sliding over to Simon’s cold pillow beside yours. Your heart squeezed with a cold sensation that you didn’t dare place.

“I’m doin’ my best.”

“I miss you.”

A beat of silence then the sound of shuffling. “Miss you more. Can’t even sleep without you, jus’ keep tossin’ and turnin’.”

“I don’t even want to think about sleep.”

“You need to sleep regardless, I want you exactly how I left you, but with a bigger belly.”

You laughed a little, settling down onto your back. “I’m not gonna get big that fast, Simon. You’ll only be gone, what, two weeks?”

“Probably. I just… Don’t want to miss you growing my baby again.”

You tugged Simon’s pillow into your chest as you rolled onto your side, settling your cheek on the soft fabric. “You’ll be back in no time, I promise you’re not missing much.”

“Y/N?”

Goosebumps traveled up and down your spine, knowing he was being serious if he said your name. “Yeah?”

“Be safe for me, okay?”

“Always.” You answered, wanting to feel his heartbeat underneath your fingertips again. “Are you going to sleep?”

“I was gonna try.”

“Can you stay on the line ‘til I fall asleep?”

A deep and lighthearted chuckle sounded from your phone, but you didn’t feel embarrassed that you needed his comfort - you knew he loved you more than anything, he’d do anything for you. “Yeah, love. Jus’ close your eyes. I love you.”

A smile on your lips as you closed your eyes, letting the phone stay on his pillow, only a couple inches from your face.

“I love you too, Simon.”

There was just a small moment of his laughter before he spoke again. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“Well, this is new.”

Mellie’s face was buried into your neck, little tears in her eyes as she curled into your chest. You have an apologetic look to König, the tall Austrian only blinked back. “I promise she’s usually friendly, I don’t know what’s gotten into her.” The man looked genuinely distressed, as if he did something wrong. You felt worried as soon as you saw that look in his eye, but you were quick to reassure him. “I’m sure she’ll get over it, she doesn’t quite like the masks. Simon doesn’t wear one around the house so she’s not quite used to it yet.” You looked down to Mellie and placed your hand on her forehead, feeling her skin be warmer than usual - that was probably why she wasn’t acting right.

He cleared his throat. “I-I’m sorry.”

You waved your hand, softly bouncing on your feet as your baby then gripped your hairs at the nape of your neck. “Ow- It’s fine, König. You don’t have to take the mask off if you don’t want, she’ll be fine.” You turned away from him, walking back into the living room from the kitchen. Laswell was standing near the window that displayed the garden, Roach was sat on the floor playing fire trucks with Winnie. Breakfast had come and gone, Mellie had woken up late and had not taken a liking to Roach or König. The little one was still quietly crying into your neck as you moved across the room to Laswell.

She had been on the phone almost all morning, voice low as she kept her eye on all entrances. But now, no phone was held in her hand, only her gaze upon the garden was holding her attention.

“Kate?”

She looked over to shoulder and a small frown appeared on her face as she saw the scared girl on your arm. “Aww, what happened?”

You smirked a little, looking down to Mellie. “She’s not a fan of Uncle König or Uncle Roach’s masks.”

Laswell laughed a little and you looked back up to her. “Anyway, what’s up?”

“Are you sure that nothing’s gonna happen?” Your voice lowered, your free hand coming to help wrangle your baby hairs from Mellie’s grip. “Are we safe here?”

The woman’s smile fell before she took a look outside, then back to you. “No. Anything can happen, no matter how secure the place is. König and Roach being here is a precaution, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

You nodded before looking over your shoulder, seeing Winnie giggling as Roach crashed a toy car into the big building made of toy blocks. You turned back to Laswell. “Well, thank you for staying too. I was gonna ask if I could take Winnie out to the park later, maybe leave Mellie here ‘cause she feels like she’s running a fever.”

The woman pressed her lips together, looking to Roach and Winnie too before she looked back to you. “Roach and I will take her.”

You gave her a smile. “Thank you.” You moved back towards your couch, stepping around Winnie as she demolished Roach’s block house with her toy. Roach made a noise of surprise towards Winnie as you sat down, a small coo from Mellie drew your attention back to her. You looked down at her, hand instantly back on her forehead - she was very warm, that made you worried. Your eyes flickered upwards, seeing König standing in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes watching everyone in the room. “König?”

His back became ramrod straight as he answered, “Yes, ma’am?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s just Y/N. But in the very left top cabinet from the oven is the medicine cabinet, could you get me the baby Tylenol and the syringe beside it?”

The giant nodded, immediately disappearing into the kitchen as Kate softly laughed from the windowsill. You looked to her, she spoke with a laugh, “Your husband has them both terrified of you.”

Shaking your head, you sat forwards and rested a hand on Winnie’s head, patting it. Your daughter moved her head to look up at you with a smile before looking back at Roach. “He’s just cautious.”

“He is very intimidating.” König spoke from behind the couch, a large hand appeared in your vision with the things you asked for as you leaned back.

You grabbed them, not before saying, “Keep your hand there.” Mellie was still facing you, so you placed the medicine down in your lap before maneuvering her little baby hand to settle on top of König’s outstretched palm. You glanced up to the man before saying, “Simon holds her hand when I give her medicine.”

König made a noise of acknowledgment as you kept Mellie on your arm, moving your hands together so you could quickly draw the dose of Tylenol into the syringe. By the time Mellie raised her hand to look at who she was touching, you had squished her cheeks together so her mouth opened and squirted the medicine into the back of her throat. The little baby squawked and coughed, withdrawing her hand from König and rubbing her eye, softly crying.

You put down the syringe and pet her face, she only murmured at you before slamming her face back into your neck. “I’m sorry, honey, it’s alright.” You looked up to König, who was watching your daughter very curiously. “Thank you.”

He nodded in response.

Mellie hated baths when she was sick. The sweet little girl was crying, upset as you gently poured the lukewarm water over her back. The rubber duck she had in her hand was curled into her chest, her little throat sounding rough since she had finally stopped screaming. It was at moments like this where you wished Simon was there with you - his gentle hand would settle on Mellie’s back, the baby would immediately begin to calm down. But Mellie didn’t want you to rub her back, touch her head, or even hold her; she was getting too hot, trying to tear off her clothes as she screeched for her Dada. He had been gone for less than two days and you felt like you were already overwhelmed.

Winnie was always easy as a baby and Mellie seemed that way too, at least until Simon had to leave. He was almost never gone since the night he had came home and found you in bed, his two month old daughter on your chest. The longest he would be gone was one night but he had been back in the morning, bright and early. She’s always had him, you understood it will be hard since she’s too little to understand why Simon was gone. You kissed her warm forehead, careful to miss the sweet smelling soap on her head.

Winnie had gone to the park with Roach and Kate only a couple of hours ago, Kate saying that she was going to run Simon’s usual errands. Shopping, some paperwork, pick up dinner. Now, the only ones left in the house was König, you, and Mellie - your daughter wanted nothing to do with the gentle giant. You found him oddly sweet, he was insanely awkward for a grown man but sometimes that’s just how it is. It took you a while to break Simon of that shell.

Your daughter coughed a little, pulling you from your thoughts as you kept cupping water to wash off the sudsy soap from her little body. “Sorry, honey. Mama’s tired today, isn’t she?”

Mellie’s deep brown eyes stared up at you, red with tears as she sniffled a soft, “Dada.”

You cupped the back of her head, gently threading your thumb over her baby curls. “He’ll be home soon, my girl. It’s just me for right now, okay?” Your baby pouted a little, tears welled in her eyes and you were ready for another thirty minutes of screaming - but it didn’t come. Only soft little whimpers from her, you could almost hear your heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Dada.” She murmured, her free hand coming to make a grabby hand towards you. You instantly placed your hand in front of hers, letting her grip onto your fingers.

You gave her a small smile. “We’re done, baby. You feel a little better? We’ll get some medicine on your chest ‘n we’ll take a nap.” Mellie coughed in response, you looked away for just a moment to grab her towel that had printed ducks on it - Winnie had picked it out at the shop specifically for her baby sister months ago. You turned back to Mellie, plucking her from the water and wrapping her up, letting her still very warm forehead to rest on your cheek. You kept her balanced in your grip as you leaned down, pulling out the drain plug before moving to leave the bathroom.

You pulled the door open, feeling a slight breeze through the house that wasn’t there before you took Mellie to the bath.

König must’ve opened a window.

Your daughter had grown quiet with her wet cheek against yours, you kept her wrapped up when you walked across the hallway, the floorboards creaked underneath your bare feet as you opened the door to her nursery. The white curtains in front of her window were softly flowing with the cool breeze, you silently thanked König for opening the windows. The cooler temperature would make Mellie comfortable. You rested your baby on her changing table and was quick to put a new nappy on her, the little one looked up at you drowsily. You were quick to put her ducky towel over her little body to keep her warm as you opened a drawer or two in the table, looking for your little tub of baby vapor rub - something your mother swore by when she came to visit months ago. You weren’t very keen on using it unless either of your babies were incredibly sick, and the way Mellie was acting definitely made you feel like this cold was gonna be a bad one.

You put just a little smidge of the rub on her chest, rubbing it in and keeping an eye on her little face. “Look at Mama, bug.” Her eyes were staring right behind you, something she always did, but she didn’t look back to you. She turned her head the other way, looking at the wall. A sigh left your lips as you kept gently rubbing her chest.

She’s just sick, she’ll be acting fine soon.

You picked her up again, keeping her tucked into your chest. It was no use trying to put new clothes on her, all of the Riley girls strip off their clothes when they’re sick, no matter how old - you included. Mellie murmured against your chest, hands holding onto the shirt of Simon’s you were wearing. “We’re gonna go lay down with Mama this time, okay?”

She shook her little head into your chest as you moved out of her nursery and then into your bedroom, very easily holding Mellie with one arm as the other pulled back the blankets. You tugged Simon’s pillow to be in the middle of his side and then slid yourself in between the cold covers. You placed Mellie on her back, the pillow acting like a barrier between her and the end of the bed. Fortunately, Mellie didn’t like to move around when she was sick - she stayed in the same place, so it was easy for you to pull yourself under the covers and over her belly. Her hand gripped the sleeve of your shirt, tears welled in her eyes as she murmured some noises.

Your head settled on your pillow, you gently moved Mellie’s hand so you could move onto your side. Your hand then rested on her forehead, feeling her temperate had gone down a little but she was still warm.

“We’ll talk to Dad when he gets off work, okay?” You murmured, your hand then rested on Mellie’s stomach.

She cooed a little, a whisper escaped her lips, “Dada.”

You smiled at your baby. “Yeah, Dada. Mama’s gonna call and we’ll talk to him.” You reached your arm out and grabbed your phone, noting that the time was almost six. You unlocked your phone and shot Simon a text, hoping he’d respond soon. In the mean time, you put your phone on his pillow before curling up, watching little Mellie was she watched you. “We gotta wait, lovie. Sissy will want to talk to Dad too.”

She shook her head a little, a smile appeared on your face.

“Mmhmm. Dad’s working, he’ll call us in a minute.”

A thunder of footsteps could be heard downstairs as well as the distinct laugh of Winnie, you smiled. Winnie always found you when she came home, which would be perfect timing if Simon called. You turned over to look at your bedroom door, hearing her rushing footsteps as they approached your room before she burst in, her pigtails half undone and a huge grin on her face. “Mama!”

“Hi, baby!” You instantly smiled, putting an arm out to let her grab so you could pull her up - she helped pull herself up onto the bed and instantly fell onto your chest, forcing a loud “Oof!” from your throat. Her little head was shoved into your neck, arms around your chest as best they could as your one arm wrapped tightly around her. “Did you have fun, my love?”

Furious nodding ensued from your eldest daughter. “Uncle Roach fell off the swing set.” A giggle escaped her lips and a chuckle left yours as you looked down to her brunette hair. “And I got an ice lolly.”

“Did you thank your uncle and aunt?”

“Yes, Mama.”

You kissed her hair. “Good girl. I was seeing if Dad wanted to call, do you want to talk to him?”

She nodded into your neck, but gently pet her back as she mumbled, “I miss Dad.”

You sighed a little. “I do too.”

Winnie raised her head from your neck, a little frown on her face. “When is he coming home?”

Your hand was quick to pull the ties from her pigtails, unable to look your daughter in the face as you said, “Soon, baby.”

“Is Melsie sick?” The girl peered over you to look at Mellie, you looked too - the baby was gazing at both of you, a smile appeared on your face. Her little face looked tired, her hands resting on her own chest. “She looks sick, Mama.”

You sighed, your other hand coming to settle on top of your baby’s belly, she whimpered. You fully turned your head to look at Mellie, the little baby looking and feeling sick made you upset. Such a sweet little thing didn’t deserve to be uncomfortable and in pain. “She is sick, Winnie. Can you take my phone from Dad’s pillow?”

The older girl moved over your chest, stretching over her baby sister and then bringing your phone to rest on your chest. As you did, it began to vibrate - you pulled your hand away from Winnie to hold it and answer Simon’s call.

“Hi love.”

A squeal came from Winnie as she chirped, “Daddy!”

“Hi, Duckling. How are you?”

She giggled, taking the phone in her hands and she began to chat with her dad, telling him all about her fun adventures with her Uncle Roach and Auntie Kate. You watched her smile get wider with every second she talked to Simon, your hand went to settle on Mellie’s stomach. She whined a little, you glanced to Mellie but you couldn’t stop watching how happy Winnie was.

It reminded you of when Simon would call every night he could and read Winnie to sleep when she was two. She would be so happy to hear his voice when he had been physically gone for weeks, she would always react to his voice when he called since he had started when she was one. It was sweet, you couldn’t ever get over just how much your husband adored his daughters.

Mellie cooed a little, hearing Simon’s voice and letting out a small, “Dada.”

“Winnie,” Your hand reached out for Winter, who looked to you with a curious glare. “It’s Mellie’s turn.”

And there it was, Winnie’s signature pout. With her bottom lip pushed out and tears at the ready, she murmured, “But she can’t talk, Mama. I wanna talk to Daddy.”

“I know, but it’s been a few minutes.” You raised your chest from the bed, now able to swoop some curls around Winnie’s ear. “Mellie needs to hear from him too, even if she can’t talk back. Come on, now.” Winnie let out a grumble, you heard Simon’s deep chuckling as the phone was placed on your chest. “Thank you.”

You settled the phone near Mellie’s head as Winnie crawled over, curling herself onto Simon’s pillow as the baby cooed, “Dada.”

“Hi, Mellie.”

That spooked Mellie, causing her to take frantic looks around as she kicked out her feet. Her older sister laughed, watching her Melsie look for their dad.

“Dada Dada.” Your baby’s little head moved to look at you, one hand reached out for your face - you intercepted it with your own hand, a smile on your face.

“I bet she’s confused.”

You nodded to yourself before saying a soft, “She misses you, Si.”

There was a moment where you knew exactly how Simon would react to that, knowing he’d be sitting on his bed and clenching his blanket in his grasp, trying to stop the tears that have rarely fell in his home with you.

“I miss my girls.”

“We miss you too.” You looked to your phone, a part of you wishing that it was physically him instead. Hair tousled, eyes soft and smile wide - he’d be holding Mellie while she cried, gently talking to her to calm her down. He would be home soon, I felt it in my heart. I kissed Mellie before I reached for Winnie, kissing her forehead. “Just wanted to let the girls hear your voice, baby. We love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll be home soon.”

Simon stared at his phone, mask in hand as he sat in his curtain darkened office. The only illumination was his phone and his computer in front of him - he felt he deserved to sit in darkness until he finally came home to his girls, his daylight.

He flicked the small printed photo of his family in his free hand, it was the one he kept in his wallet.

“I know it’s early, but I’m gonna try and get them to sleep. Mel’s starting some sort of cold.”

Simon’s heart ached. He wished to be home that very second so he could scoop his little girl into his arms and love on her. “I’m sorry I’m not there to help.”

“You’re being a superhero, Daddy!” Winnie chirped, he could hear her smile. It hurt his heart that he couldn’t hold her either.

“Good night, my girls.” He spoke softly. “I love you.”

You whispered your good night and your love for him, all while Winnie pressed her face to the phone with giggles. The call ended, and Simon was left in a cold dark room, hours from home on a base that he’s only been twice before.

His eyes glanced over to his desktop, rereading the information on the target.

Last seen in London, UK three days ago.

Blond, green eyed, bulk build. Associated with Russian Mafia.

The photo box was empty. Every man who had eyes on him couldn’t get an image fast enough, weren’t skilled enough to see that he had slipped onto a train to Manchester to find his son. Simon could never know that his entire life hung in the balance of one man. And it wasn’t even himself.

He shut off his computer, sliding a hand down his face. He stretched back in his chair before he stood, still flipping the picture in his fingers as he made his way to his small cot. If he closed his eyes for a moment, even in the darkness of this already solitary office, he could imagine himself getting back into his bed. Under the soft sheets, arms curled around you and leg tucked in between yours.

He sat on his dark green canvas cot, toed off his already unlaced boots, and let his back hit the wall.

There were going to be many sleepless nights ahead of him, and it wasn’t even because he had to be awake and vigilant. It was because he yearned for you.

taglist (ignore that tagging hates me): @sigynxlokiwifelover @lumpypoll @multitargaryen @chloeforde @blueoorchid @vir-tual @lolis-pikt @theverycelestialgemini @simpingforleoandnico @prodyng @royalty-purple @projectdreamwalker @tiredweeb7

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ellievickstar · 6 months

Text

Undeserving

A/N: This took me way too long to write- I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is Part 2 of Deserving, but it can be read as a standalone. This was written as a more self-indulgent fic and I might write an alternative part 2 that is sadder if you guys really want. Love you all <3

Summary: After years, you are happy, you have moved on. But what about the other half that you have abandoned? What about tthe one who hurt you most when all you needed was his help?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (Past), Eris Vanserra x Reader (Current)

Warnings: Angst (as usual), being married to Eris (ig for some of y'all that's an ick), mentions of Beron (bleh), really nothing else tbh please tell me if there is anything i should add.

~*~*~*~*~

"How have you been?" The High Lady of the Night Court sat opposite to you as you sipped at the tea that your dearest husband had provided. It had been over five years since you had left the Nigh Court, over ten years that you decided to find new purpose here. In Autumn Court. After Beron had died and Eris Vanserra had been announced as the new High Lord, you had originally gone over as an ambassador with Lucien, but after a few interactions with the now Autumn High Lord you had decided to stay. And now you were married.

"I’ve been well Feyre. Eris still treats me like a queen and I am always taken care of, he insists I always rest even though I do want to contribute and work, though he does relent on letting me participate in political meetings and interacting with the larger part of the court. He thinks they like me more than they like him," You smiled warmly as you thought of your relationship with the High Lord of the Night Court. Although it hadn’t been officially announced yet, due to the fact that Eris had to get rid of a few corrupt lords in who had been loyal to only Beron, you had overheard Eris discussing something with Lucien that you had not meant to find out.

~*~*~*~*~

It was midnight and you had awoken to an empty bed, still warm, meaning that Eris had not left too long ago, but not warm enough without his presence next to you. You stumbled down the great halls of the Forest House, finally coming across a room where a dim light shined through a slightly opened door, but as you were about to enter, you stopped and strained your ears to listen to the conversation that was happening inside.

You picked up on Lucien’s voice first, ensuring that you remained perfectly still and held your breathe. "You are being ridiculous of course she would say yes. You’ve planned all this so that you can make this day special for her, why are you still fretting?" Your lovers panic was palpable in his tone, "What if she hates it? What if she hates everything and decides to leave me? Oh gosh what if she leaves me?"

A chuckle escaped from Lucien and you felt movement and what seemed like pacing footsteps.

"I really love her, brother. She is the love of my life and I feel like I’ve waited for her since the beginning of my existence, but what if she hates what I am planning to do? Or what if I end up overwhelming her and she decides to reject me?" Panic. Eris was in a complete state of panic. The usually calm, indifferent and cold heir was panicking. Curiosity piqued in you as you remained outside the door of the study. "I’m sure she will agree, in the years you have been together all she’s yearned for is a life with you. She will be more than happy to agree for you to make her High Lady."

~*~*~*~*~

And so you were giddily awaiting the day that Eris had planned. You were careful in hiding that you knew, ensuring that he would not suspect anything. Smiling as you recalled the memory fondly, your attention was stolen by the doors off the sitting room opened, flaming red hair peaking through the doorway as it revealed your grinning husband.

"Eris!" You greeted as you saw Feyre’s lips curve into a slight smile, one she hid behind her teacup as your lover approached you, lips brushing against your forehead as he nodded Feyre’s way, a polite acknowledgment of her presence. "Am I interrupting, Little Fox?" He murmured and as you shook your head he slipped you a small piece of paper before bidding his farewell. Strange, but perhaps he didn’t wish to share whatever information was on the paper to Feyre. Understandable, seeing as the night court still didn’t entirely trust Eris.

Peering at the paper, you smiled at the words.

Nothing important, Little Fox. Was just missing you. See you later at dinner with the rest of the Night Court and Lucian.

Though Eris would never admit it he was clingy at heart, and you found it ever so endearing. Truly, it was adorable seeing the High Lord of Autumn, someone who had been deemed cold and cruel by the entirety of Prythian, decide to sulk at the absence of his one and only lover.

Sighing, you folded the paper and used your magic to winnow it to your room, continuing your conversation with your best friend without a hitch, gossiping about court relations and other subjects that came to mind.

~*~*~*~*~

Laughter roared through the dining room as Cassian pounded his fist against the table. Among everyone in the inner circle, Cassian had been the quickest to get used to Eris, but that was not before Mor and Eris made up and Eris provided a real explanation of why he had left her in the woods all those years ago, even offering to provide his own memories and thoughts to Rhys to prove himself. It was all so you did not have to separate yourself from your family, and he had done it only for you. Not that you had asked him to. You would have never asked him to be so vulnerable with people he might be uncomfortable with.

A part of you couldn’t help but notice Azriel staring at you, but you chose to ignore him. He had made his choice about you a long time ago, it did not matter if he regretted it now.

But the ruckus died in the dining table as Eris cleared his throat.

Looking around, you saw Rhys’s eyes seemed to be alight in anticipation and Lucian seemed to sit straighter in his chair as Eris stood, addressing your family.

"I’m sure you understand why I’ve chosen our monthly gathering to finally announce this. But it’s not really an announcement, yet." His eyes travelled across the room before finally landing on you. "Throughout the past few months I’m sure some of you know that I have been agonising how to do this properly, and some of you have even personally had a hand in helping me to try and plan something that would fit the best into Y/N’s lovely taste, and that’s when i realised that I didn’t need anything big or extravagant, she would have just wanted you all here, to share this." He paused as he knelt before you, holding your hands to his.

"I know this is a big thing to ask, and I understand if you need time, heck some of your family members may even discourage you from saying yes." He grinned nervously. "But I wanted to ask you now. Y/N will you do me the honor of becoming my high lady and binding my life to yours for the rest of my life? Because if one day you decide to leave this land, I don’t want to be far behind."

Inhaling deeply, he continued, "I love you, I know for a fact I love you and that I have loved you since you decided to show up to my court with my brother, grinning and laughing like fools. I have loved you ever since you had the defiance to stand up to my cold mask and tell me I could "shove that fake cold demeanor up my ass or screw off". I have loved you shamelessly and endlessly ever since you first decided to call me your own. Please, be my High Lady, let me dedicate my life to yours, to whatever end."

Tears filled your eyes as you nodded repeatedly, blubbering out a soft ‘of course’ as you flung yourself into Eris’s arms. Your family members all burst into cheers, Cassian taking you from your husband to swing you around and Feyre, Nesta and Elain crowding around you in excitement to gush over the news. This was exactly what you would have wanted. Nothing big or fancy, just a moment to share together, as a family.

That’s when you felt a tendril sneak up your arm, causing you to look back into where the shadow singer was now tucked away into a corner, he beckoned you to follow him and as you cast a look to Eris, he smiled softly and mouthed ‘i trust you’ before winking and returning to his conversation with Lucian.

You followed Azriel to a balcony just outside the dining hall, and he paused for a few seconds facing away from you, before his low, raspy voice rang out.

"Why him?"

You were taken aback. But you rolled your eyes, Azriel had pulled this same shit at your wedding.

"Don’t do this Azriel," You warned.

The shadow singer turned to you and under his gaze you froze at his rage.

"He doesn’t deserve you."

"And you think you do!" You scoffed, "I needed you, all those years ago I needed you. Not just your pathetic words that you would be there for me no matter what when it came to a time I needed you to choose me you did the exact opposite. For months I was broken. I believed that I didn’t deserve love if my own mate couldn’t bring himself to love me. You have no idea what it was like watching you love someone else. You have no right to tell me who deserves me and who doesn’t. You gave that up a long time ago so don’t even try."

Silence was all that followed and as you were about to return to the male who actually loved you, Azriel spoke.

"I’m sorry," And now with your back away from him you were reminded of all those years ago when you walked away from a situation that made you feel undeserving of love.

"I know," You said softly, your words almost unable to reach his ears, "But that’s not enough, Azriel. Being sorry has never been enough for me to stay with you. Let me go, please. You deserve love to. Please stop chasing after people you can’t have because that will be your undoing."

But as you left and Azriel was alone on the balcony, he tipped his head and whispered to the stars.

"It already is."

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Sorry if the story isn't flowing that well haha. I am working on other stuff (planning and procrastinating is more accurate) but rn I am on school holidays so I will be writing a little more. Love you all see you next time <3

taglist for azriel: @positivewitch

#acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x oc #eris acotar #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fluff

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kitorin · 8 months

Text

journal.

in which, itoshi rin's midnight writing exposes what he's kept concealed from you.

contents. itoshi rin x reader, 2.878 k words, fluff, angst (in the past), itoshi backstory spoilers (mixed with a few headcanons), 1st person rin pov for a bit (journal entry), regular highschool au

a/n. is this my best? no. but is it the best i have for today? yes. happy birthday to rin <3 after assignments are done i'll definitely rewrite this (i gave up on proofreading)

10 / 09 / 2023 : SUNDAY, 12:04 am - 3:21 am

Solitude has never been a foreigner.

In fact, he's quite a familiar individual, an old companion that never seems to leave.

Even before Nii chan left for Spain, solitude was still there for me. During class I wouldn't utter a word to anyone else unless necessary, and contrariwise for said classmates. People still spoke to me; just not to the extent that they'd know what my favourite foods were, or what I liked to watch in my free time, not even bothering with it. I've never been invited to hang out with anyone after school, or been to someone else's house (not that I particularly cared, I was just sure that I was the only one).

But I was okay with it. I didn't want, or need anyone else when Nii chan bought me ice blocks, giving me the bigger piece as we'd watch the sun's warm hues bleed into the sky; the saccharine iciness contrasting how warm is was to be swallowed by sunlight together. Dad took us fishing a lot, he's always been well acquainted with the sea, taking us to locations well populated by bream; my favourite. On our way home we'd harvest kelp (Nii chan likes it in rice, salted) and take photos together on our yacht, admiring how the sun greets the world farewell, sinking into the aquamarine. Mum makes amazing food, I'm constantly astonished at how she manages to memorise every preference, from my love for ochazuke to being able to pour the perfect amount of tea; the rice never becomes too soggy (even I can't pour the exact amount I like). Solitude was close to me, but my family were closer.

There's a lot I could say about them, they've done more than remember what I love and ensuring I was happy; I'm thankful they've delivered the right for me to be comforted, to have a shoulder to cry on, to be able to freely ramble on about whatever fascinated me.

I've always been happy, even if I'm alone outside of the walls I call home. Because whether I laughed my heart out or sobbed to the point I couldn't form a coherent sentence, I'd always come home running to my family. Nothing can beat dinner; where we all relish mum's food, ask each other about our days' and offer solace or advice when necessary.

I miss that. Terribly, to the point my heart aches.

I knew that Nii chan's departure to Europe (Spain, to be exact) would change a lot. I'd have to score without his guidance, walk home alone and buy my own popsicles. Dinner time would have one less soul to laugh with, and home would have one less to embrace.

I just never expected it to be painful change. I never predicted that his return would result in losing us entirely. I didn't think his homecoming would cause my immortal resentment towards the snow, or how my eyes prickle a bit at the mere thought of an ice block. I'd say it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me, separation from him following it on the list of my worst experiences.

Solitude avoided me at home, but wasn't enough.

One time on the way home, I was overhearing the team's conversations (nothing particularly new really) and it was a discussion about the future. It was honestly surprising to find out only some of us intended to become soccer players; Nagi would rather stream or compete in professional gaming, Kurona wants to study marine biology in uni, and Yukimiya wants to give acting a go along with his modelling career. Even Isagi has a plan for if professional soccer isn't an option. He said he wanted to help others achieve their dreams if he fails to do so himself.

I remained silent as always, but had a lot more thoughts racing through my mind. Retreating to my room immediately that night, my first thought was to lie in bed, to neglect the clips I planned to analyse, to ignore muscle training for today and to slack off a bit. That's when I realized how sad the life I was living. I was sad because I was reminded of my reality.

I'm a mere myriad of distinguished achievements, though a hideous attempt of replicating genius Itoshi Sae. I'm a collection of formidable accomplishments, basking in the spotlight of glory and honour. The trophies and awards adorning my room prove it, standing tall with pride and flaunting my hard work.

That didn't mean anything. I had remained in a constant cycle of training, eating, and sleeping. My teammates were just as ambitious yet still worked hard on other things; Yukimiya enjoys modelling and Reo has a passion for economics, That must've been where I was lacking.

That's how I ended up writing again. It was an attempt to break out of this cyclical torture of constant training and sports.

I don't know how I remembered it, but I found my notebook from primary, all the stories messily scrawled yet legible. Scarlet adorned narratives birthed from child-like imagination, eulogising the prose, even though I almost flinched out of embarrassment.

Flipping through the pages, I had found the paragraph my teacher left me, insisting that I keep writing. Obviously, I never did. After getting into soccer I ignored everything school related, and would've found words on a page foolish anyways.

Many years later, I finally followed that advice.

The end result wasn't pretty. I paused a lot, struggled a lot, and almost gave up, a lot. It may have been hideous, but it was mine. A piece birthed from curiosity and memories from the past turned into another attempt. Another attempt morphed into extensive reading, I wanted to observe what was considered worthwhile or meaningless.

Writing rewove the early nights into late night reading, fully immersed in the author's thoughts translated into prose. Reading was the push to giving academics a go. Academics pulled me out of the endless cycle of soccer, there was more to life than training and diet regulation.

Books I can read. Words I can write. Exams I can study for and sports I can practice. Weights I can lift and competitions I can train for.

But to be loved, is so difficult.

It's not like an exam that you can study for and simply memorise the answers to. Or a match that has the security of a referee and reinforced rules. It's not something that can be guaranteed with a mentor.

People treat Isagi to his favourite whenever he has a bad day (he likes kintsuba). People advocate their favourite novels to Yukimiya and Chigiri, even going as far as memorising their preferences to curate their recommendations flawlessly. It must be nice, for someone to invest that sort of effort in you, even if it's simply remembering a hobby.

As my peers savoured the allure of love, estrangement and desolation constantly haunted me; a pest habituating the sleepless nights where I try to escape with a cup of coffee that's long gone cold.

It's lukewarm, praying for another's attention, care and love, to be hungry for one's time. I pathetically plead whoever manipulating my fate to provide me some sort of human connection. I shouldn't be so hopeful of others, yet I find myself dying of curiosity; what would it be like for someone to remember my birthday? Or tell me about the horror movie they adored?

I despise solitude's clinginess. But I hate how it makes me sob endlessly when no one watches.

I have myself. I have my thoughts which I've transcribed to oeuvre. I have the pile of books resting on my bedside table which sleep alongside with me. I have the trophies and awards I've won, I'll always appreciate my own talent and diligence, even if playing soccer brought me so much pain.

I think I'm somewhat pretty. I find my prominent eyelashes special to me, it's something unique to both me and Nii chan. My physique isn't too bad, either. I like the way my legs look, and my shoulders as I dry my hair.

I've always been proud of myself. I've always been enough and I always will be. Just not for others.

That's why I never expected my bond with solitude to be severed so easily. Especially because of y/n out of all people.

I still don't get how it happened. The oblivion to their presence became a peculiar first impression. An odd first meeting turned into abrupt yet regular greetings amidst hallways. Soon, I was sitting with them in every class, passing notes during tedious lessons and discussing our favourite media on the bus ride home.

Before I knew it, passionate rambles about books turned into watching movies together in my room. Whenever they greeted me their friendly wave was replaced with a tight hug, passing notes in class were accompanied with subtle kisses on the cheek.

Our relationship as friends was reimagined to lovers.

Something must've possessed me to blurt out the stupid crush I had on them, and I thank whatever drove me to do that. As awkward as I was it doesn't compare to the skip of my heartbeat when they accepted my feelings.

It's been almost a year since I met them, yet I still feel hot whenever they hold my hand, and flush red at every compliment they whisper. I still find myself stuttering sometimes whenever they're showing me a new outfit they've styled.

I love the way they smile, the creases of joy that adorn the outer corner of their eyes, and how they squint with glee and the sweet, melodious laughter that accompanies it; how breathless they sound whilst laughing. The expression they wear when deep in thought fascinates me, even if it's midway through an exam or them simply observing a video Bachira sent them. I adore their late night thoughts they text me at 3 am, the fatigue itching my eyes seem to evaporate when I notice their name on the notification. I treasure the notes we've scrawled on spare sheets of paper, they're still in between the pages of my books.

Even now, they're sleeping soundly in my bed, arms wrapped around the plush I bought them; I keep getting distracted by the sight of them so relaxed, chest rising up and down with each breath.

I would die for them. Because now I don't need to pretend to be invested on my phone to look less lonely. Now, I don't need to put my bag on the seat next to me to make it look like I sit alone by choice. I don't have to persuade the teacher to let me do group projects alone, or have to observe others with jealousy. Someone defends me from disparaging comments.

Because now, I'm not alone.

7:15 am

THE ENTRY COMES TO AN END, AND EMBARASSMENT DUSTS Rin's face a faint tint of pink. His eyes avoid contact with yours— as he waits for your input his latest piece.

"Well? What do you think?"

You're not sure where to start. You've always known about his strained relationship with his older brother, and how his friendship with his teammates wasn't the same in the beginning. But he never explained it in detail; you wouldn't've guessed that he had some sort of chionophobia, or even cried because he felt so secluded from others. The thought of him concealing his tears and pain from the rest of the world made your eyes prickle and sends your heart racing miserably.

"Doesn't matter—" He reaches for the notebook, closing it and tossing it onto his desk. "Forget it, you didn't see anything." He plops backwards again, head hitting the pillow and groaning as he covers his face with his forearm. "It was shit anyways, I'll rip it out and toss it later."

"It wasn't."

Rin stays silent.

You lie down, mimicking his current position and cup his cheeks with your hand. "You'll never be alone again—, I promise you that." Your voice falters ever so slightly, the thought of his pain makes you feel weak in the knees and sick to the stomach. "You're more than enough, you always have and always will be. You don't need anyone's validation to be beautiful, you never did."

Rin sighs, "I'm only like that because of you." Yet something seems to throb in his heart, the small but overpowering part of him that insists he requires another's approval to be important— someone finally proving that wrong.

"That's not true."

"Yes it is, our classmates still loathe me, so do people who barely see or speak to me." There was no lie in that; but it wasn't Rin's fault. "Yoichi and the others only spend time with me because of you."

"I was only the push for them to speak to you, you know they've always cared, they were just too nervous to speak to you. As competitive as he gets, Yoichi really admires you, to the point he gets so heated and ends up rambling about your skills." That's a secret that was supposed to remain in your private messages, but Yoichi doesn't need to know.

Satisfaction momentarily appears on Rin's face at the thought of his rival's great respect, though it doesn't last very long.

"He's my teammate so it's expected... everyone I speak to at school seems to have something against me, even our English teacher." The mistreatment at school is undeniable, it's not exactly bullying but there's no respect or human decency in how people behave towards him.

"Rin, love, you've done nothing wrong, hate isn't always rational. There will always be people who can't stand seeing others more successful, and that's not your fault."

"Really?" His eyes light up; despite having a sophisticated and cold demeanour all the time, he looks like a child again, hope dances in his wide eyes.

"Really." Your fingers take advantage of the opportunity and pinch his cheeks gently. "Don't listen to all those stupid rumours and assumptions, idiot. I'd fight anyone who tries to hurt you and win every time."

When your fingers let go he immediately kisses you, and it leaves you breathless; the way he pulls you in flexes his well toned biceps and his hand supports your head.

"Thank you." Rin whispers, pulling away a bit. "Thank you for appreciating me. Thank you for everything." It's a rare occurrence for him to sound so frail, same goes for the tremble of his bottom lip.

"Of course, I love you more than anything."

"I love you too." It's escorted by a peck on your nose, and a soft expression sculpted on his face.

Before Rin can throw a blanket over the two of you again, you interrupt.

"You shouldn't throw that entry away." You still haven't forgotten his initial intention with it. "I don't get why you think it's shit."

"It's rushed. And it's just me waffling on about my feelings and the past. There's no proofreading, and it's rushed. It's not even complete either."

"That's the whole point of writing, no? It's the expression of our words and thoughts." You reach towards his desk to pick up the notebook. "Not everything has to be written in one sitting, too."

Rin doesn't bother stopping you from looking through the notebook at this point. "It's still stupid. It's just that I had the urge and motivation to write in the dead of night."

"Well. I like it."

Rin's stoic expression crumbles, revealing the bashful side he keeps concealed from the world. "Then that's good enough for me." The red on his cheeks tell you that you've won the argument.

You turn back to the entry page, impressed with his barely legible yet pretty handwriting. "You should've slept instead."

"I don't get tired anyways." He's quickly betrayed by the yawn clawing out of his throat.

"Liar. Why would you stay up writing so late... your sleep is important you know?"

"Because you are love itself. I won't get a wink of sleep if it means I can think and write about you instead." Rin's pulls you in again, tossing his notebook elsewhere as he leans in. "I promise I'll finish that entry, no— I'll write a book about you one day."

"Writing this, writing that, sleep first dumbass." A smile tugs at your lips as you pull Rin back into the position you were cuddling in a few hours ago. Even though you were the one who slept a lot more, fatigue itched your eyes, and a yawn spilled out too.

In response, Rin tosses a blanket over the two of you, whispering good night as you begin to nod off a bit. He should rest too, he has training tomorrow and has to go to the gym as well.

The Itoshi Rin from before would've slept immediately. In fact, he wouldn't've stayed up in the first place, let alone date someone. But the Itoshi Rin now instead stares at you, admiring each and every feature of yours. You're his savior, the luminescent moon irradiating his world, guiding him away from the grasps of solitude and embracing him with love instead.

Tagging: @yuzurins (yumi you inspired this fic btw lol)

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #fluff #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi #rin #blue lock manga #blue lock rin itoshi #blue lock rin

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flugsammy · 5 months

Text

"..A santa Hat?"

It was a tiring week.

Holidays in the Black Hat organization have never been of much value. And when they were celebrated, a hail of disaster settled over any fun. You always enjoyed these events, despite all the conflicts.

With the arrival of Christmas Eve this year, however, Black hat informed everyone that any type of celebration for Christmas was completely prohibited. This led to a bit of disappointment for everyone.

Demencia didn't know much about Christmas traditions, but she knew that there were gifts and a lot of food. That alone was enough to make her sulk like a little child after the cancellation.

Dr. Flug never really cared about Christmas, despite having certain affectionate memories about the date. But of course, that didn't stop him from giving gifts to his son, 5.0.5, every time the day arrived, and most importantly, a big hug.

December 25th.

The day finally had arrived!

At exactly midnight you had already received a hug from 5.0.5 in a secret celebration, and given Demencia a BIG squeeze. The girl always tried to bite you due to your clinginess, and this time it was no different.

You were positively surprised at yourself after managing to hand-make gifts for both of your co-workers! Your time was quite tight due to work, and let's say your salary wasn't really.. fair, for you to buy any gift

Surely, you had a lot of nerve to even mention the holiday, especially in the mood Black Hat was in.

After a few moments, you remembered something important. There was only one person missing, who hadn't received a greeting from you yet. With silent steps, you headed towards the laboratory.

The fear of being caught in the middle of your act by Black Hat was present throughout. You were Flug's right hand, but your boss always warned you to "not distract the doctor with any of your nonsense."

Without knocking, you entered the laboratory. In the back of your mind, you expected to see him in some special outfit for Christmas, but he was introduced in his normal outfit. It was understandable, but you still thought it was a shame. He would definitely look adorable wearing Christmas clothes again.

The doctor was sitting at his desk. The vision of his glosses was completely focused on the HatBot he was currently working on. All that could be heard from him were mutters of calculations that silently left his lips.

As you slowly moved up behind his back, Flug suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Tired, doctor?"

Your voice came out as a whisper, making the pilot scream in fright. He almost fell out of his chair, but after realizing it was you, a big sigh of relief left his lips.

"W—Why do you always have to sneak out like that!?"

The irritation was visible in his voice when he heard your small giggle.

"It's just adorable watch you jump."

The doctor rolled his eyes. This was exactly why he was always against your unexpected closeness with Demencia. Flug stood up with a sigh, gesturing as he began to scold you:

"What do you want now, Y/N? You should be fixing the HatBots that Demencia broke rather than slacking off! What's the point of creating a new one if all the others are-.."

You interrupted the pilot by shushing him, making him furrow his eyebrows.

"Hey, hey, hey! You don't need to get worked up with me, Flug! I've already repaired all the HatBots, but it's EXTREMELY difficult to deliver on time when they were left in pieces after meeting Demencia's claws."

The doctor was silent as he listened. When you were done, a sigh left his lips, and he let both of his arms fall to his sides.

"Ugh.. I'm sorry. I think I'm just stressed out by this overload of work. I was hoping Black Hat would give me a little break for how well we've done our missions the entire year, but I guess I was wrong... again."

The stress radiated from his voice. Even though he was wearing his paper bag, the dark circles under his eyes were noticeable.

It brought a melancholy to your mind. You never liked seeing the doctor like this, but what could you do?

The one time you dared to ask your boss for time off for your co-worker, you got hit in the head with the demon's cane.

The thought gave you goosebumps.

An awkward silence settled in the lab for a few seconds while you thought of something to distract him from so much stress. A moment passed, when you finally broke the deafening silence:

"..I brought you something. You know, as a Christmas present."

Such words made Flug raise an eyebrow. You? Had I brought him something? This was not a common thing to happen. Quickly, he questioned:

"You bring me something? What did you..-"

He paused to watch you take something out of your deep pocket. The pilot was always curious about how so many things could fit into one piece of fabric.

The depth of it always made him skeptical.

"Here it is!"

You said happily, handing him a...

"..A santa hat?"

He asked confusedly as he looked at the red hood in his hand. After a brief analysis, his eyes fell on the two messages on both sides of the fabric.

"To my dear co-worker and friend."

"Con amor, Y/N."

His gaze shifted to the present and to you. A slightly curious expression appeared on his face.

"Why would you-.."

His question was cut in half as you suddenly wrapped both arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug. He jumped at the sudden movement as his eyes instantly widened.

However, he made no move to free himself from the grip.

"W—What the- What are you-"

"Merry Christmas, Flug."

Your cheerful voice echoed softly through the lab, as your left hand stroked his back. A smile appeared on your face as you felt your colleague's body slowly relax in your grip.

He let out a soft sigh, placing both arms around you gently.

"..Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Merry Christmas for y'all! - Sam.

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neowinestainedress · 1 year

Text

𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒 — 𝐂𝐇.𝟏

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 — 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee haechan x oc ; lee haechan x haechan's ex gf!oc 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, exes to lovers, lovers to exes | requested 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after a year of drying tears, and three of dating, haechan’s ex-girlfriend comes back in their life and hyejin’s biggest fears start growing again. But everything is fine because hyejin and haechan fit right into each other palm. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none 𝐖𝐂: 4k 𝐀/𝐍: can't believe the first chapter is finally out, i know it took me SO LONG but i hope the anon that requested it is still around to enjoy this. i have many mixed emotions about this series but i hope you will love it. feedback means the world, whether it's a comment, a reblog (it helps to boost the fic so more people can see it), or an ask, please send your thoughts! enjoy ♡

Haechan’s place was quiet; the only sounds that could be heard were the clicking of his fingers on the keyboard and some curse spilling from his lips. The place wasn’t big, and the walls weren’t thick either, even a small drop of water could be heard from another room if the house was filled with silence.

A smile curled Hyejin’s lips as she kept her focus on the food on the stoves and tried to don’t let herself get distracted by her boyfriend.

It was a typical Friday night in October. After the end of university, they dumbly believed they would’ve been freer, but real life proved them wrong swiftly, and between work and other things, finding a moment for each other seemed even harder than when their afternoons were filled with essays, books to study and projects to turn in before midnight. So, they tried to make up for some time together the best they could, slowly building their everyday life with small habits. They didn’t live together, not yet, at least. No matter how much they wanted to, especially her, they couldn’t afford a house together, not one that was big enough for the future.

While Haechan was more grounded and focused on the present — that alone was making him struggle to sleep at night — Hyejin dreamed a lot about the future. Even if in the last months her talks about it died down, too afraid she was scaring Haechan away with all her dreams of getting married and having kids, in her heart, those dreams didn’t die down. She could see it. The picture of their happy family was clear as the sky in her mind. After all, that was everything she ever dreamed of and with the person she loved since she was able to point out what feelings are.

And surely those evenings together weren’t like living together, but it was close. She spent more nights there than in her small, rented place with her best friends, especially at night, when that was the only time they could be together without having to do other things.

But none of this was different from their childhood. All the times they fell asleep in each other’s bedroom after running all day, or when they would hide because they refused to go back home. The only difference was the place; their houses in their small hometown now were a small apartment on the third floor of a building in Seoul.

When the timer rang, bringing Hyejin out of her thoughts, she shook her head and turned off the fire, careful not to burn herself while she placed the food on the plates she already took out from the shelf beforehand.

“Food’s ready,” she said, knocking on his door, opening it ajar, only seeing Haechan’s back at the desk, the light of the computer was almost blinding in the small dark room.

“Yeah, I’ll — fuck, Mark, can you look what you’re doing?” He yelled to the screen, letting out an annoyed puff of air before he waved her off, without drifting his gaze and addressing her dismissively, “I’ll be there soon, start without me.”

She chuckled, finding him endearing when he was so caught up. “Hi, Mark,” she greeted, raising her voice to make sure the boy would’ve heard from Haechan’s mic. A smile spread on her lips when their friend greeted her back, and then she talked to her boyfriend again, “Don’t worry, I’ll wait.”

October that year seemed a bit colder than usual, or maybe it was that place that felt off when Haechan wasn’t with her. And now that time was passing by as slowly as a drop rhythmically coming out of a broken sink, she could swear she never felt colder.

Hyejin had stopped manically staring at the clock, checking every two seconds as if two minutes could pass instead. She simply stared at the hot food in front of her, following the path of the smoke dispersing in the air and creating a grey cloud. It was like puffing air on the outside. But she didn’t want the food to go cold, she cooked it with so much love for Haechan, and she knew he must’ve been starving, so she put it in the microwave, hoping it was enough to keep it warm.

And time started weighing down on her again now that she had nothing to obsess herself with.

She sighed, slumping on the sofa and pulling out her phone.

hye♡ pls injunnie tell me they’re almost done

renjunnie bold of you to assume i understand anything about games

hye♡ sigh😔

renjunnie i’m sure they lost track of time. i can scold jeno if you want to!

hye♡ no it’s alright!!!

let them play they’ve been busy

and work is stressing hyuckie so I don’t want to bother him

renjunnie k

i’m sure he’ll make it up to you somehow 😉

hye♡ RENJUN!

renjunnie bye! you two were loud af so i can tease you all i want

hye♡ 🙄

She chuckled before locking the phone again and stretching, deciding to turn on the TV and let time pass by in some other way.

“You waited an hour?” When Haechan’s voice resonated in the living room she almost skipped a beat, not expecting him to come out of the room for at least another thirty minutes.

“Yeah, I told you,” she smiled, turning around and chuckling softly while her eyes ran on his body. He looked good with anything on, but those casual clothes were so dear to her. It reminded her of the most honest and real Haechan, the one that didn’t care about what people had to say, the one she spent hours watching trash movies or tv shows with, the one she rushed to the supermarket with after only putting a jacket and shoes on, or the one that was standing in front of her right now. “You look sexy like this,” she winked and he shook his head, hiding the light embarrassment before he walked into the kitchen.

“You cooked?”

“Yeah, prepared teobokki, but I think we have to reheat it now, unless you want to eat gum,” she commented, pulling the two dishes out of the microwave. “I’ll use the pan in the sink.”

“No, I’ll do it,” he said, grabbing the dishes from her hands, and coming face to face.

Her eyes lit up before she leaned in and left a peck on his lips. “Will you blow up the kitchen, Ramsey?”

Haechan playfully pushed her away with a swing of the hip before turning on the stove and flipping the teobokki in the pan. “I can reheat some food for five minutes. Go pick a movie or something you want to watch.”

“No complains?” She asked, pointing a finger at his chest.

Haechan nodded, “I owe it to you, I’m sorry I made you wait.”

“Alright, so you won’t complain about Clueless.”

“Damn, for the nth time?”

“It’s my comfort movie and it’s my pick, think about the food instead,” she said, rushing out of the kitchen to reach the sofa and select the movie.

When Haechan sat on the couch, placing the two plates on the table in front of it, he furrowed, not seeing the movie on the screen.

“What’s that?”

“Something we’ve never seen before,” she said. “I mean, we saw the first but not the sequel.”

“Oh,” he whispered, passing a pair of chopsticks in her hands, “are you sure? I was kidding before, you know?”

She hummed with her mouth already stuffed with teobboki, not even giving Haechan time to warn her about how hot they were. “I’m hungry,” she mumbled with her mouth closed and a sweet crease on her forehead.

“My fault, sorry,” he said, picking up the ceramic and starting to blow on the food to cool it. “But again, we can watch Clueless, I don’t mind that I know every dialogue by heart.”

“As you should, that’s a classic, it’s basic culture,” she joked, shifting closer to him until their legs brushed together and their shoulders touched. That was home to her, the physical contact, feeling him close even if they weren’t doing anything exciting, it was normal, it was calming, and it was what she always knew. Haechan was the only stable island of her life, the only land that wasn’t non-unexplored, and didn’t sink into the ocean. The only constant star that she could always look at to come home. She didn’t know how she would’ve survived without him, without this.

“And what’s this?”

“Knives out, remember? The detective and the spoiled rich people being put back in their place?”

“Oh,” Haechan laughed, “I love it.”

The weekend passed by too fast for Hyejin’s liking, two days and a half felt like two hours, and when the erratic mood of the week picked up again, the last thing she wanted to hear was about Haechan’s ex coming back to Korea.

The grunt that escaped from her lips couldn’t masquerade the fake, sweet tone of her voice when she accepted tonight’s dinner through the phone, but Haechan couldn’t see her, and she was glad for that so they could avoid another countless fight over her.

Hyejin couldn’t get it. She simply couldn’t see why after all the pain she put him through, Haechan still welcomed her with open arms. Did he forget about what he had been through, what they had been through? Because she surely didn’t delete the memories of their nights up, her being Haechan’s shoulder to cry on, constantly, before they dated, while they dated, and after.

Zoya was perennial tears sewed into Haechan’s eyes and Hyejin had spent precious hours unstitching them to put a smile on his face.

But what could she do now? If she knew about the tears, she also knew the reason why, and if she had to be honest, and leave the childish pettiness in the back of her heart, she had to admit that lots of those tears were caused by Haechan himself being too caught up in her, and being just a dumb, teenager boy that didn’t know how to balance his emotions.

And after all, if they decided to meet again, it could only mean they made it up, patched up the shredded tapestry she ripped away when she left without a word, and they could start again, as friends.

Because that was what they were.

Friends.

All of them.

That was how it started; when Hyejin and Haechan approached the new shy girl from New Dehili who would always sit alone in a corner during lunch in elementary school. When they invited her home and helped her learn Korean as they slowly started to spend more and more time together. When Haechan’s eyes started shining with a different light in middle school every time he looked at her, and how her eyes never reciprocated the same glint. When Hyejin would stare in silence, feeling her heart sink in her chest, hearing her friend’s voice talk about her so full of love. When their trio stopped being one and Zoya found better friends, but somehow still kept in touch with Haechan, and all of a sudden there were no more tears left to dry on his cheeks.

Friends.

Until they weren’t.

Until Zoya and Haechan started dating. And she was back at their bigger high school table with all their friends, happy. And Hyejin wasn’t so sure about her place anymore, it surely wasn’t the place she wanted, but it was still at Haechan’s side, and even at Zoya’s side, even if she couldn’t recognize her friend anymore.

And now there was this awkward tension in the air as the car sprinted down Seoul’s streets, and Haechan sang carelessly as a Shinee song passed by the radio. She felt numb, unsure about what to feel. A tiny, invisible, part of her was happy to see her again. Surely, they had stopped talking like when they were kids, but she still considered Zoya her friend, and when she ripped a part of Haechan’s heart, she also ripped a part of hers. Another was terrified, because she knew her, and she envied her. Because during all the nights she spent awake, caressing Haechan’s cheeks, she slowly got why Haechan was so enchanted by her, and tonight was going to be yet another painful reminder.

“Why are you pouting since we arrived?” Haechan asked as they silently walked to the restaurant, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans, far away from her lingering hands begging to be taken into his.

Hyejin let out another bitter chuckle, rubbing her palms on her arms, trying to fight the cold and the nervousness. “I don’t get why she has to be here.”

“That’s literally for her, she’s finally coming back to Seoul after years, I think it’s only right to celebrate.”

Celebrate. What was to celebrate? Hyejin didn’t even know what she had come back for. “Yeah, whatever,” she whispered, so low under her breath that the cars passing by overshadowed her voice, not that Haechan would’ve given her an answer anyway. He was too caught up in what was about to happen, and even if he didn’t say it out loud, she knew he found her behaviour annoying and childish.

When they pushed the door of the restaurant Haechan picked for the occasion — a cosy, traditional place downtown — it didn’t take them long to spot Zoya at a table in the far corner of the room. She was eye-catching no matter where she was or what she wore, all eyes were on her so effortlessly.

“Hyuck!” She screamed, waving when they approached. Hyejin was standing right behind her boyfriend to shield herself from her because she knew that seeing her would’ve ruined her mood in a second.

“Zoya!” He greeted her back, pulling her into a tight hug. For Hyejin it lasted way too long but she couldn’t complain, it made sense; when she didn’t let jealousy take over her, it made sense.

“Hi,” Hyejin whispered, moving her hand shyly and feeling her heart drop when she finally, and bravely, took a look at her.

“Look at you, Hyejin,” Zoya cheered, perfect white teeth shining in a warm smile, unexpectedly bringing her close in a hug. “You got bangs? You look amazing.”

She found it hard to believe, especially when she looked like that. “Thanks,” she breathed out, shily tugging a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling too conscious about her appearance. “The red strands? You always rock bold looks,” she commented, staring at Zoya’s hair and how unfairly gorgeous she looked. Zoya was a goddess, and it wasn’t surprising it took Haechan months to get over her. If she was him, she probably wouldn’t ever get over her.

“Yeah. Wanted to try something new,” she said, sitting and watching them do the same, taking their place in front of her on the bench. “I even tried blonde, never again,” she joked, handing them the menu.

“I bet you looked beautiful even like that,” Haechan commented, his eyes beaming while he stared at the girl facing him, and Hyejin forced a smile on her lips while she hid her face behind the menu. Maybe focusing on the food was better than this.

“Hyejin.” Only at what might have been the 50th call of her name, Hyejin turned around and was brought back from blankly spacing into her plate. “Are you okay?” Zoya asked and she hummed, realizing she didn’t pay attention to a single word they had said, by now for half an hour.

“Yeah, just, sorry, I zoned out,” she smiled, hoping it would’ve been enough to brush away the awkwardness, after looking at Haechan who was staring at her before bringing his attention back to his food.

The red-haired showed her teeth in a reassuring smile and then spoke again, “We were talking about college; how did it go?”

“Stressful,” Hyejin mumbled. Real life sucked in her opinion, while everyone around her seemed so hyped about new adventures and work and bills to pay, she just wanted to cry and go back in time, maybe even pick a different major because, who would’ve thought, art doesn’t pay the bills as much as being a doctor does. And now that Zoya was here, she wished even more that college didn’t end. Why was she even back? She flew back to India for who knows what reason, and now was back in Seoul. To work? Or to steal Haechan from her?

“I felt the same but look at us now. There are so many roads we can take from now on!” She exclaimed and Hyejin faintly made out Haechan cheering in agreement before their conversation drifted somewhere else and she slumped in her thoughts again.

She didn’t do it on purpose, it was a mechanism of defence since she was a child. She couldn’t bear staying at their side for long before her brain started to compare herself with her, and that would lead to a weird mix of self-hatred and Zoya-hatred thoughts she couldn’t bear.

Zoya was perfect, actually. She had no reason to hate her, if only it wasn’t for what had been between her and Haechan before. Zoya hurt Haechan so much when she broke up with him with no warning and flew to another country, and the one that dried all his tears was her. She could still remember the nights spent up, talking him through it, trying to calm him down and uselessly trying to make him see that she never deserved him. And all those talks and cries led to this, to them, to Haechan finally realizing the feelings he had for Hyejin for so long and simply never wanted to admit. The same feelings she cherished in her heart secretly for years while she watched in the distance — or closeness — him being in love with someone else.

And now that Zoya was back, just as casually as she left, Hyejin couldn’t believe how things were flowing between them, it was as if nothing happened, as if all those tears that scratched Haechan’s cheeks had never fallen from his eyes, as if all the bleeding didn’t happen. How could Haechan forgive so easily? How could they still fit so perfectly?

When the dinner ended and they exchanged the last greetings, the walk to the car was silent but not tense and awkward like the walk there. Hyejin searched for Haechan’s hand and held it tight, locking their fingers and finally feeling at ease again. It was as if all the pieces went back into place when they were together and all her nonsense paranoids disappeared in the sky, drifting away in the wind.

“Was it so terrible?” Haechan asked, pulling his hand away to wrap his arm around her shoulders and push her close to his body.

Hyejin shook her head, hiding a dumb smile at his action, reclining her head to hide the warmth on her face. She couldn’t grade that night, not in an honest way at least, but she didn’t want to vent about it with him, she frankly didn’t want to talk about her for the rest of the night.

“Can we grab ice cream before going back home?” She asked, hoping Haechan wouldn’t have changed the topic again.

“Sure,” he said, opening the door of the passenger seat. “Hop inside, I’m taking you to our favourite place.”

Sitting on a bench with the chill air of the night and eating ice cream wasn’t the smartest idea but something about it was soothing. The quiet of that part of town, the blue sky over them, and the shoes on the ground of the people passing by were a nice accompaniment.

“Don’t lean into me,” Haechan said when she shifted closer, softly pushing her away and glaring at her.

“Why?” She pouted, creating a deep crease on her forehead.

“We know how clumsy you are, you will make it all drop on me,” he said, pointing at the cone in her hand.

She rolled her eyes, huffing loudly because, even if that made sense, she still wanted to be closer to him, and he pushed her away.

“Can I sleep at your place, at least?” She stopped, licking the chocolate and squeezing her eyes when the cold got to her brain. “So we can cuddle.”

“Cuddle?” Haechan teased, voice coming out lower while his lips curled in a smirk.

“Yes, dumbass,” she screamed, slapping his arm away. “You took me out with your ex, you’re not getting laid for at least a month.”

Haechan gasped dramatically, shaking his head. “One month? Why are you so cruel? I even paid for your ice cream.”

She shrugged, waving him off with a move of the hand. “Don’t care, can’t care, won’t ever care about it.”

The black-haired snorted, “Yeah, we know that you won’t last a month.”

“Bet?” The challenging look she reserved for him was supposed to appear more threatening than it was, but it only made her boyfriend chuckle.

Haechan scoffed, staring at her in disbelief. “Really?”

“Yeah, if you’re so sure that I will be the first one to give up, what do you have to lose?”

He snorted and then nodded. “Fine, fine, what do we bet?” He asked. “No,” he said, watching her smile turn into a devilish smirk. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s a big no.”

“I’ll think about it, maybe money, maybe edging you for hours, maybe something funnier,” she winked, after licking her lips sensually.

“You are evil,” he huffed before going back to his ice scream that was almost finished.

“You are worse.”

Haechan scoffed. “By the way, of course, you can sleep at mine. Oh, wait, I hope my girlfriend isn’t home, maybe we should take this somewhere else.”

Hyejin pushed him away with a harsh push and almost made him fall to the ground.

“What has taken over you tonight?” He yelled, staring at her with wide eyes.

“That’s what you get,” she smirked before standing up. “And let’s head to the car, I wanna go home.”

Haechan hummed, throwing in the bin the paper in his hand, and then they started walking to his car, this time with their arms intertwined.

The way back home was quieter, while they hummed some tunes on the radio, trying to fight off the sleep from their eyes until they made it home. Once inside, Haechan turned on the heater and Hyejin walked straight to the bathroom to get ready for the night. She walked the place as if it was hers, knowing where everything was, moving around so nonchalantly.

And exactly the way she was walking in the living room, brown hair pinned back, big soft pajamas taking her clothes place, bare feet with socks on the wooden floor, and toothbrush in her mouth as she turned on the tv, trying to find something interesting, made something pop up in Haechan’s mind.

“Oh, Hyejin,” he called, making her turn around, head tilted to the side and a small dimple on her cheek. “I forgot to tell you something. I’m sorry, I wanted to, but it slipped my mind.”

She frowned and then ran to the bathroom to clean her mouth.

“There will be quite a big change,” Haechan said, leaning against the bathroom frame, watching as she dried her face with a towel and applied moisturizer on her face.

“A big change?”

“Yeah, you know since Mark and Renjun moved out I can’t afford this place all alone, so a new friend of mine will move in.”

“Oh, that’s great, so maybe you can start saving again,” she smiled, feeling happiness fill her heart.

“Yeah, and also start breathing again. We can spend more time together if I can drop one of my two jobs.”

“That’s amazing,” she cheered, cupping his cheeks before pulling him down to kiss his lips. “Do I know him?”

“Nope, not yet. I’ll introduce you to him next Friday.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.”

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @smwhirnthehaze ; @liliansun ; @moonstar127 ; @novawon | comment under the masterlist to be added | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck

#nct fanfiction #haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan smut #lee haechan fluff #lee haechan angst #lee haechan smut #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #nct 127 angst #nct dream angst #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #fic: glimpse of us

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laviudanegra99 · 5 months

Text

Craving attention

lewis hamilton x rapper!reader✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Author's note♡: I finally got myself together to write for the first time, so I'm happy I guess?? Idk what I'm doing so pls forgive me if I mess up this whole thing

(Also English isn't my first language, but I've been learning it since I'm really young, so I think that won't be a problem)

Trigger warning: cheating, angst, use of Y/N, swear words, description of bodies, slight sexual themes +heavily implied religious Latina reader

You are driving home from the studio. You call Lewis, like you always do when he happens to be home. It's winter break in F1, so he has more free time than usually, but you can't take advantage of that, because you're working on your upcoming studio album. To your surprise Lewis doesn't pick the phone up. "He might be asleep" -you say to yourself. You never know what he's up to when you're away from home, but it doesn't bother you: you trust him. You finally pull up in the driveway and smile to yourself as you get out of the car, happy you're home early. You mostly arrive home late night, around 10-11 pm or even at midnight, but today Metro Boomin, the producer you're working on your new album with, told you to go home early. He knows how little time you get to spend with your boo.

You walk up to the door and walk in, greeting your boyfriend: "Lew, baby, I'm home!" He doesn't answer. You figure he's indeed asleep. Your bedroom is upstairs, in the other side of the house, so he can't hear your arrival. You tip-toe your way towards your bedroom, careful not to wake him, but the closer you get the more you hear the sounds of two people. You would think he's watching a movie, but you could tell his voice out of a million other ones. To your surprise the other voice belong to a female. The door was slightly open so you peeked in -just a little. Enough to see a skinny, blonde girl -your complete opposite- putting her clothes back on as Lewis is watching her. Tears well up in your eyes as you keep watching their interaction, slowly pushing the door open, while looking daggers at Lewis. If looks could kill, he would be dead. You slam the door behind you as you ask "why?"

Lewis immediately tries to explain it to you (if you can even explain anything in this situation), but you disrupt him: "Just shut the fuck up! Now tell me the truth..." He can't find the words, his eyes become watery.

"It's just- I'm sorry, I- I just missed your attention, love, please"

"I don't need your apology. This is just... asqueroso. Did he at least tell you he has a girl?" You look questioningly at the blonde. She just shakes her head no, while giving you a sympathizing look.

"¡serpiente!" You tell him through your teeth. "Get outta here! Not you though" You make the girl stay.

You try to be as kind to her as possible as she didn't know he had a girlfriend. As Lewis quickly skitters out of your house you sit the girl down on the sofa. "You need a drink?"

She whispers. "Yes please" She seems nervous, but you try to treat her the best you can. You hand her your water bottle, that you bought on your way home, letting her know it isn't open yet.

"When did this start?" My tears are still falling, but now that you don't see Lewis, you're starting to calm down a bit.

"A couple months ago, in a party. I thought he was single" She says, visibly upset.

"Didn't you recognise who he was though?" Lewis is pretty famous, not only as an athlete, but also as your boyfriend.

"He never told me he was famous. He's that racing driver? I love your songs, but I don't really watch F1 and I'm not into celebrities' lives like that."

"Thanks for telling me. May the Lord bless your soul."

"No problem. I'm sorry you had to walk in on that." She looks down, clearly embarrassed, while taking a sip of her water.

"How did you get here by the way?"

She looks down on the ground. "Lewis gave me a ride."

"Lemme call you an Uber." You sit down on the couch next to her, while yours tears start falling again.

"Thank you." She puts an arm around you after you throw your phone on the bed from the couch. "Are you okay? That guy's a dick, isn't he?" You just nod as you hug each other. She smells like vanilla and coconut shampoo.

"It's just... you're the complete opposite of me" I cry on her shoulder.

"Looks wise?" You nod. "You're beautiful!"

I smile through my tears. "Just like you"

"Thanks. Let's just agree we're both pretty, and have amazing personalities and he's just a prick." She smiles as you giggle.

"Doja was right. N✭ggas ain't shit." You both just giggle.

"Oh, the Uber's here. You'll find your way out?" She nods. Before she leaves you exchange numbers and hug each others goodbye.

After she left you put your hype song on: Drop the World by Lil Wayne ft. Eminem. You take Lewis' clothes, put them in his bags and throw them out the window, on the street. You decide to take care of his stuff (aka keep them). He has enough money to buy new stuff, right? You look in the mirror and run your hands through your curves while wiping your tears away -your better off this way. You decide to hit the stu and continue your work with Metro -maybe you'll bond will go deeper with him, now that you're both single?

Sorry if this was bad, I tried my best. Pls reblog if you liked it and if there's something I messed up pls tell me, I'm really tryna get better🤍🤍🤍

Here's a c.ai link if you'd like your own ending ↪ https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=R3uGZM2fgWVbGjwgyVlvZxujjUL0Xba9slJOKDv8Mwc

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x yn #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x latina!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #f1 x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 drivers x reader #f1 #formula 1 #f1 driver #f1 drivers #angst #lewis hamilton angst #cheating

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kicktwine · 7 months

Text

get licked idiot (2142 words)

“Tataru,” Ch’ari blinks, one end of his mouth twitching. “You wouldn’t happen to have been… sewing upside-down, would you?”

“Why, no! Nothing of the sort. What makes you ask?”

“You’ve got, um...”

Tataru looks down in confusion and fusses with her clothes a moment, seeming satisfied as she straightens her overalls and completely misses the massive cowlick sticking straight up off her head. Ch’ari twitches.

To make matters worse, she sits down next to him — still armored in his dragoon gearset after a day of hunting fiends out near Coerthas — and snags a bottle of rum from behind the counter to pour herself a drink. “Though I admit I was a bit busy. You’ll have to wait and see what with,” she says, trying to have a little conversation with the midnight crew.

Nursing his own bottle (a cheap unopened mead that he never pours into a cup, not that he needs to), Ch’ari can’t figure out how to respond and just watches her take a sip. The cowlick bobs comically with the motion.

“Lemme just…” Ch’ari reaches over and flicks it. It pops back up.

“Hm? Oh, is there something in there?”

“Hold on.” Ch’ari licks his finger and combs it down. It stays for maybe a second, and then… pops back up. He bats it reflexively.

He’s aware his pupils are probably dilated as far as they’ll go, but this is his prey now. This is his quarry. This bouncy cowlick. It will submit to him, this cowlick.

He looms over Tataru’s head, and luckily she’s familiar enough with him to simply raise an eyebrow and not wonder if he’s going to eat her like a python. Ch’ari proceeds to insistently lick his fingers and smooth out her hair, as if she were a diminutive Miqo’te. He’s tempted just to — just to lick it down so his tongue can do the combing, but he’s not sure that Tataru would be amenable. He does care about her as a friend, and is aware Lalafell do not groom each other like his instincts want him to do. Even if it’s, getting fixed one strand at a time, infuriatingly, fighting him the whole way.

Eventually — eventually — Tataru’s hair looks… presentable. The cowlick, at least, is gone and not offending Ch’ari’s sensibilities, and the rest of it looks like it usually does outside her messy bun. Ch’ari growls at his work in satisfaction, and returns to his mead, starting to turn a bit pink despite his scowl.

“…Was it really that bad?”

“You looked like a coeurl toy,” Ch’ari mutters.

Tataru chirps a little delighted laugh. “Well! Then I’m glad I have you to protect me!”

••

For some reason, everyone had been fine upon arriving to Ishgard — freezing cold, yes, a bit miserable, but not sick. Alphinaud had, however, upon returning to the Rising Stones to recuperate after the defeat of Nidhogg, gotten a nasty cold and the worst sniffles known to man. He had been knocked out in bed for the past two days, and just barely able to shuffle about and pretend to be normal for about ten minutes in the morning for breakfast.

Key word “pretend”. Despite his airs, it was abundantly clear to anyone who looked at him from closer than five feet that he had dragged himself out of bed to be here, and as soon as he had a croissant in him he was going right back to bed. It was how Ch’ari knew the cold was bad — he wasn’t off making it worse somewhere and ignoring it.

Which is why Ch’ari almost excuses his dreadful upkeep. Unfortunately, it’s dreadful.

He slumps carefully into the seat next to the Warrior, a croissant in his hand and a wheeze escaping his nose. His hair is pulled back in a looser braid, which is messy, but forgivable; his whiskers, however, are entirely crooked. The soft fluff around the base of his ears looks glued on and sticking up in places, and his fringe is almost sideways. Unconscionable.

“Good morning, plague bringer,” Alisaie says by way of greeting. Alphinaud grunts in response.

Ch’ari does not greet him. Ch’ari places his hand on his head like he’s a pickle jar and starts licking his fluff.

Alphinaud jerks backwards, fast for a sick boy but dazed enough to be unable to break out of Ch’ari’s hold. The croissant drops to the table in a shower of crumbs. “A-Ari!” he splutters.

Whatever the fluff is made of, it’s thinner than Miqo’te hair, which means it’s thinner than his papillae are really good for combing through. No matter, he will just have to do a more thorough job. He continues to lick and Alphinaud continues to writhe, and as he does his ear keeps flicking Ch’ari in the eye every time he runs his tongue near it — Ch’ari brings his other hand up and slaps it down, trapping it against the Elezen’s head. He pins Alphinaud with a glare.

Alphinaud withers and stops trying to wriggle free, shrinking down in his seat. Pointedly ignoring Alisaie, who is watching the spectacle with her mouth open, Ch’ari snorts and continues his ministrations. One side done and straightened, he adjusts the boy’s head and works on the other.

Alisaie mouths something to her brother, who does not dignify it with a response, whatever it was. At least he’s given up on trying to get out of being cleaned, but Ch’ari could feel the heat coming off his face from a malm away. Wether it’s embarrassment or fever, he doesn’t care to know.

“You’re next if I catch you unkempt, red girl,” Ch’ari says, and he hears the click of a certain jaw being snapped shut. And an impulsive brush of hair being checked.

The fluff successfully smoothed out and clean, Ch’ari decides to spare Alphinaud any further public displays of affection and only gives his fringe a cursory swipe through.

“You may eat your croissant now.”

“…Thank… um. You,” Alphinaud mumbles, caught between a rock (mortification) and a hard place (critical unknown etiquette situation). He does not look at anyone else as he picks up his food and shuffles off back to bed.

••

Doman summers are humid. That is not the excuse Ch’ari has to make to get Alisaie to peel herself off the floor, but it is one of the ones he has ready.

It only takes two excuses — namely that everyone else is asleep and so should you be, and that he insists come over here the futon by the window is more comfortable than the stool yes even if it’s small you’ll get a horrible crick in your neck just slouching there. It probably helps that she’s allowed to keep watch over her brother, and Ch’ari isn’t forcing her to go to the room she’d been provided with to go to bed. He’d be a hypocrite, anyways.

She situates herself on the opposite end with a blanket, lost in thought. Ch’ari always thought the Leveilleur twins to be in their heads a bit often — as a negative trait, in the past, though it had morphed to being endearing to neutral in recent months. Always worried about such big pictures that the small ones scamper away outside their notice. Or always so preoccupied with what they can or can’t do to be useful, to change the things that aren’t fair about the world. So afraid of failure. Such a self-made burden on their fragile shoulders.

That trait drives them underneath all their sweet selflessness and stubborn idealism. And it gets worse and worse with fear, the kind of fear that narrows the world down to two or three people at a time when the world demands thousands be paid attention to.

Ch’ari has always been good at caring about two or three people at a time, and one or two things at a time. The title of hero is one he ultimately doesn’t deserve if one casts aside the ends and asks the means. He’s really more of a sword to be pointed, to intimidate. All the talk of politics, the big world important stuff his twins care about so so much, had washed over his ears a bit, ears that are not even now accustomed to a world bigger than a twenty yalm flat. He cares for the world and the whims of its protectors because there are people who live in it he cares about, as a sword loves its wielders, and they care for the world in that grand and wonderful way they do.

Ch’ari has his thoughts, Alisaie has hers. He thinks she’s probably running herself in circles about the fate of the star and the fates of her loved ones, and Ch’ari is here thinking only of how he might be able to get her to stop.

As it is, it’s ultimately not his decision. Guards patrol the Kienkan at night, and pass by windows with intermittent frequency, and it is as one shadow filters through the moonlight and shutters that Hydealyn deigns to grace him with a splitting migraine — but it’s a migraine he knows, it’s familiar. Not the overwhelming voice of the Call. He flinches backwards, claws to his head.

Alisaie startles and jumps to her hands and knees, gripping the blanket. Gods, not now, he has to-

“Echo. Echo—“ Ch’ari manages to choke out, before the memory takes him.

There is nothing.

It is a peaceable morning devoid of aught unusual, aside from its expansive, yawning emptiness — the soldier stands at the edge of the river, hand to his head in confusion as water sprites wink out and wither, far along the bank. No birds. No fish. No efts. Nothing. Even the babbling of the stream seems muted.

The nets are empty. He goes home.

Ch’ari comes out of the — short, but rather to the point — memory with a heavy shake of his head. He gets the message. At least the mother crystal is not one to dilly-dally when she has something to say, though he wants for priorities. There is so much going on, would Hydealyn have him abandon all else to fix this problem? Where to begin?

He comes back to awareness with Alisaie’s hands on his knees.

Bereft of a good reassurance, he gives her a little thumbs up. She nearly deflates with relief.

“Gods, Ch’ari. Do not do that again.”

“You’ll have to neg Hydealyn for that one.”

“Ari.”

“I’m fine. We’re fine,” he rasps. A dangerous wobble is sneaking into her eyes, born of stress and more stress and comatose family and the fear of being the only one left and in a room with her empty brothers. Ch’ari is struck as if with an axe at how much he would do to stop her.

Any other circumstance would be met with characteristic yelping and protesting and perhaps a death threat or a tussle, but Ch’ari beckons and helps Alisaie (so light! Like a chocobo chick) into the crook between him and the window and puts his head atop hers and curls his tail around her feet and she doesn’t protest. Instead she tucks her arms around herself and pulls her tail in against his legs and drops her head right on his chest and does not cry.

“We are fine,” she mutters.

“Very. And if we are not, we will be not fine together.” The axe still embedded deep in his chest, he does not much hesitate to start licking through her bangs to smooth them out.

She stiffens, her ears swiveling upwards as if to figure out what it is. Then, slowly, they drop back down, and her tense posture eases ever-so-slightly. Evidently, Alphinaud’s investigation into Miqo’te culture after his encounter with Ch’ari while sick was shared for scientific discussion. What fast learners. Even if Y’shtola had shared with him the disastrous results of Alphy asking her for tribal advice. Chuckling under his breath at the memory, his purr starts up without his bidding.

“…How are you vibrating?”

Ch’ari stops and heaves a great sigh, and then bullies her head back down from where it had tilted up at him quizzically. “Your brother asked the exact same thing. It’s not vibrating, it is purring. It means I’m happy.”

“Oh. …oh,” Alisaie says, quieting. She casts a long glance at the bed set up against the wall, its occupant not even snoring or shifting. “I wasn’t aware you could feel it.”

“Little opportunity to find out, th’ past while.”

She pauses for a long moment.

“Even now?”

“M’ happy you’re still here.” He turns his attention to her part, carefully grooming apart the mis-tied strands. “Not a fan of being alone.”

“I see.” Her tail shifts, the inflexible tip curling closer like either a stuffed toy to clutch or a protective sheet to block the world from hearing. “Neither am I.”

“Lucky.”

#cat time #claps HEY ok I finally feel like I’m getting some of my chops back #starting to Resolidify my writing #anyways. Ch’ari is a cat and grooms his friends even if they are wildly embarrassed about it #my writing #ffxiv #Ch’ari #alphinaud leveilleur #tataru taru #alisaie leveilleur #End of stormblood postpatch spoilers vaguely

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smittywing · 9 months

Text

FicBit 7: Jason Todd/Tim Drake

Previous parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

This was not one of Jason's better ideas.

Jason tried. He did. He went to the nightclubs and the bars and he asked guys out on dates and kissed guys on the dance floor. Not one of them was Tim Drake. Sure, some of the kisses were interesting and one guy put a heavy hand on Jason’s lower back and pressed him close in a way that he liked, but when he went home, when he went to bed, there was only one person on his mind.

Maybe, he thought, he was trying too hard. He was in the back of a nightclub nursing a drink and watching the couples and throuples on the dance floor. He had discovered a few things that he liked and didn’t like and he could build on that. But his heart wasn’t in it tonight and he knew it.

At least it wasn’t until a slim, dark-haired guy leaned into the bar to speak to the bartender and Jason knew him. He would know Tim Drake anywhere. Tim got his drink and backed up, his eyes casing the room. There was nowhere to go, so Jason just braced for Tim’s gaze to sweep over him and lifted his glass in acknowledgment. Tim nodded and started filtering his way through the crowd toward Jason.

“Hey,” he said, a few inches below Jason’s ear. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Jason shrugged. “Research,” he said. “Where’s Cannon Fodder?”

“I’m working tonight,” Tim said, sliding up against the wall next to Jason and taking a sip of his drink. “It’s drugs,” he said from behind the glass. “Want to help?”

“Hell yes,” Jason said.

For the record, Jason would be down with taking out some pushers even if it didn't involve Tim murmuring in his ear for the next ten minutes.

But it did.

“It comes in on motorboats small enough to come up to the dock,” Tim explained. “They cut and package it in one of the rooms upstairs - I haven’t gotten in there yet - and then they have the dealers take it to the floor. A little dancing, a little grinding, hey you want to do some powder, and they’re making bank before midnight.”

“So we want to be on the docks,” Jason reasoned. “Pushers aren’t getting us anywhere but the cutting room. If we can get onboard one of those boats - “

“This is just evidence-gathering,” Tim told him. “If we can catch the actual sale, I’ll call Detective Williams and he can - “

“Don’t you want to get the big bad,” Jason asked. “Cut this ring off at the head?”

“Do you have anything that even resembles a plan?” Tim returned. “We don’t have gear. At least I don’t.”

“I came here to get laid, not bust a drug ring.” Jason shrugged. “But I like to think I’m flexible with my plans.”

Tim stared at him a moment, eyebrows furrowed, mouth slightly open, and Jason suddenly realized what he’d said. Well. Who cared, anyway. One of these days he was going to get laid at one of these places. He didn’t have to tell Tim that it wasn’t actually going to be tonight.

‘Come with me,” Tim said suddenly, looping fingers around Jason’s wrist and tugging him around the crowd, up to the bar. Tim left his half-filled glass on a tray and waved down a handsome blond guy at the edge of the room. For a moment, Jason thought Bernard was actually there, but then realized the guy was too broad and too sharp-featured to be Tim’s boyfriend.

“What can I get for you, Mr. Drake-Wayne?” the man greeted them, hardly sparing a glance for Jason. “Or for your friend, perhaps?”

“Listen,” Tim said, sounding impatient and bored for someone who had summoned the guy in the first place. “My friend - “ and at this point, he slid his hand into the back pocket of Jason’s jeans - “is looking for a bump but frankly, I’m a little concerned about the quality of the stuff here. How do I know it's not cut with fentanyl or something else that could cause some…bad press?”

Wow, Jason almost said because he knew Tim had some bastard in him but he delivered that line so coldly, Jason wanted to shiver.

There were other reasons he wanted to shiver, starting with the hand Tim had firmly tucked in his back pocket. He was starting to regret wearing the tight jeans that night.

“Understood,” the man said. “If you like, I can show you the process from receipt to delivery. The package comes to us pure and the division of assets takes place upstairs.”

“Please,” Tim said disdainfully. “I do enjoy an efficient operation.”

They followed the man down a back hallway, past the bathrooms and the kitchen, and finally out a set of double doors onto the freshly salted air of the courtyard.

Under the light of the new moon and the motion-activated security lights on the building, Jason’s pants were definitely too tight. He tried to adjust himself subtly but Tim noticed and a blush spread across the bridge of his nose and over both cheeks. He did not, however, remove his hand.

“Mr. Drake-Wayne,” the man said, nodding to the water.

Tim looked at his watch. “On the nose,” he said. The speedboat pulled up alongside the dock and the pilot looped heavy rope lines around the pylons of the dock.

“Pure bricks,” the man said, breaking one in half. White powder puffed upward in the moonlight and Jason threw up a little bit in his mouth. He tapped a finger against the split edge and held it up to Tim’s face - to smell or taste, Jason wasn't sure. “A sample, Mr. Wayne?”

“Drake-Wayne,” Jason said.

“Excuse me?” the man said, looking vaguely horrified that Jason dared speak.

“He uses both names,” Jason said. Tim was the only one of them to use the Wayne moniker - mostly because Bruce had suckered him into working for the business - but he made sure to acknowledge his birth family as well, and Jason respected that.

“Of course,” the man said. The expression he cast at Jason was most definitely in the sneer family. “Any other requests?”

“Well,” Jason said, deciding to go for broke. “I don’t suppose we could have a tour of that ship?”

Tim’s hand spasmed. Yeah, this was definitely one of Jason’s better ideas.

This turned out not to be one of Jason’s better ideas.

Jason hit the water feet-first and sank like a rock. He exhaled some bubbles and followed them to the surface with brute strength strokes. His head broke the surface and he immediately looked around for Tim as he blinked water out of his eyes. For a long moment, he couldn’t see Tim, could barely see anything, and his heart seized up as he reoriented himself, finding the ship behind him and the lights of the marina in the distance. He shook his head and his ears popped and there, finally, Tim’s head broke the surface twenty feet away.

Jason used a powerful crawl to close the space between them. “You okay?” he called, spitting out vile Gotham river water that lapped into his mouth when he opened it.

“Yeah,” Tim called back, spitting out his own mouthful. His hair fell into his eyes and he shoved it back out of the way. “Make for the marina. My boat’s not far.”

‘Not far’ was a relative statement, Jason found, as he followed Tim through the water toward the lights. Tim was a graceful swimmer, cutting through the water swiftly and quietly. Jason had the strength and endurance, but he wasn’t as fast as Tim and trying to keep up was actually a little bit of a workout.

“Here,” Tim finally declared, grabbing the ladder on the outside of one of the boats and hauling himself out of the water. Jason followed closely, feeling the weight of the water fall off him as he pulled himself up the rungs.

“Ugh,” Jason said when he hit the deck. “Gross.” He was drenched through and while he was glad he’d been wearing clubbing clothes instead of his armored suit, he was drenched and the night air was chill.

“We probably need a course of antibiotics now,” Tim said, and Jason coughed out a watery laugh. Then Tim sat straight up. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit, what?” Jason asked but he didn’t have to wait for an answer.

Cannon Fodder was on the dock and hopping onto the boat. He was a good-looking kid, Jason had to admit, taller than Tim, lean but fit, with dark blond hair falling over his eyes.

“Tim?” he called. “Tim’s friend? Are you okay?”

“Hey, hi,” Tim said, scrambling to his feet and reaching for Bernard. “We’re fine, it’s all good.”

“Were you *swimming*?” Cannon Fodder asked in horror and reared back when Tim leaned in to kiss him. Jason couldn’t really blame him. Gotham’s water wasn’t exactly potable on its own and the river caught the worst of it. “In the *river*?”

Tim raked his hair back. “Um. Jason fell in and I jumped in for…solidarity.”

“Solidarity,” Cannon Fodder repeated.

“To help him get back up to the boat,” Tim amended hastily.

“Help,” Cannon Fodder echoed. His eyes narrowed at Jason and Jason immediately felt guilty. This was the guy who made Tim smile like Jason had never seen before, Tim’s *partner* and Jason couldn’t stop himself from wanting to wrap Tim in his arms, kiss him, steal him away for his very own.

Did Cannon Fodder know he was the guy Tim had kissed? How had he reacted when Tim had explained? How had he *felt*? Was the context enough? Empathy might not be a trait people immediately associated with Jason, but he was having a hard time not putting himself in Cannon Fodder’s shoes right now.

“I fell in,” Jason said. “I was chasing my, um, hat. I had a hat and I thought I could grab it. Guess I was wrong.” He could feel Tim’s eyes on him. Ugh, selflessness was the worst.

“Sorry about your hat,” Cannon Fodder said. “You might want to hold on to it better next time.”

“Yeah,” Jason said, entirely aware there was no wind that night. “Or maybe not wear a hat.”

“Also an option,” Tim agreed. “Um, Bernard, this is my friend Jason. Jason, this is my boyfriend Bernard.” And then he fucking blushed at calling Cannon Fodder his boyfriend. “Look, we should get some dry clothes. Um. Jason, I’ll see if I have anything that will fit you?”

That was unlikely. Jason might be able to squeeze into a t-shirt that was oversized on Tim, but there was no way pants were going to happen.

“Uh, thanks but I think I’m just gonna…Uber?”

“Uber?” Tim repeated.

“Uber,” Cannon Fodder said firmly.

Somehow Jason’s phone survived its bath in the Gotham River, courtesy of the weatherized case Barbara had left in a gear drop. There was awkward silence as Jason waited for his ride.

“Thanks for the save,” Jason said stiffly when his ride was a minute out. “Bernard, good to meet you, man.”

“Same.”

Yeah, Cannon Fodder definitely knew who he was.

Jason collapsed in the back seat of the car and closed his eyes. He’d given an address two blocks from his closest safehouse but chances were he’d have to burn the place anyway. River stench lingered.

He tried not to picture Cannon Fodder taking Tim below decks and stripping him of all those wet clothes, wrapping him in towels, running a hot shower, getting in with him, soaping him up, and -

Yeah. Not picturing that at all.

#batbrats #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #jason todd/tim drake #red hood/red robin #batfam #tim drake robin #jaytim

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s1nn0hh · 3 months

Text

Overworked

a dadnoir fic that I wrote based off of this wonderful drawing by @fujii-draws (which you should follow right NOW.) for her dusknoir and aimilios characters because I'm finally listening to all those "do it scared" affirmation posts here. Just like last time, my writing is a bit iffy and bad and the start is a bit slow so watch out for that. Enjoy.

The sun's bright rays stretched across Sharpedo Bluff as it set down, creating a beautiful blend of orange and yellow as the waves below crashed down quietly. Dusknoir could watch this view for hours, even for days. But he had other matters to attend to. Just as he was about to head inside, he saw Aimilios approaching , carrying a handful of guild paperwork. The lad has taken it upon himself to take care of Wigglytuff's Guild's future now that there is no impending demise threatening the lives of everyone or the world itself.

And whereas Dusknoir knows that Aimilios is good and happy with what he's doing, he recently noticed how the poor Lucario has been overworking himself to the bone as of recently. Cutting down on meals to finish more work, missing hours of sleep for more work, it bothered Dusknoir. He was gonna have to do this conversation about "putting your own will being before your work", but the time just.. didn't feel right, per-say. Regardless, he greeted Aimilios like usual.

"Good afternoon, Aimilios. Tell me, do you when Ribbons is coming back? I was planning on making dinner tonight. Celebi brought me a cooking book from a nearby town, and I figured I could try making something." Dusknoir spoke in his usual tone, keeping direct eye contact with the boy.

"Oh, uh, Ribbons will come back a bit late today. She said that she wanted to do a few extra missions today, and she insisted that I'll just go back home for the day." Aimilios quickly said as he properly straightened the paperwork in his hands, making sure to not accidentally impale it with his chest spike.

"Oh, and just call me when dinner is ready. I need to finish some of these papers, and I assume I'll be done before midnight.. I hope." Aimilios spoke as he headed inside in a pinch, leaving Dusknoir to his own. The Gripper Pokemon let off a heavy sigh, knowing he'll have to talk with the boy before he skips dinner again.

An hour passes by, and Aimilios was nowhere near finishing the dreaded papers. In fact, he was getting more frustrated by them by the minute to the point where he could rip his hair out, and Dusknoir could feel it. He hated it. To put such busywork above your own needs and wellbeing is enough, but this was just about enough. After finishing the dinner preparations, Dusknoir slowly approached Aimilios, who was way too occupied in work to see the ghost in front of him.

"Aimilios, can you step with me outside for a moment?"

"I-in a minute. I just need to-"

"Aimilios."

".. Okay then.."

The two stepped outside, gazing at the setting sun as the light breeze blew, giving the two a feeling of calmness. Aimilios was getting more relaxed, which worked well for the conversation Dusknoir was about to have with him.

"The sun rises.. and then it sets. Each day brings in it's own little things that we often take for granted before it's too late. It's incredible, isn't it?"

"Yeah.. I think so too. I've been working pretty hard lately and I always seem to forget about all of.. this."

"Actually, Aimilios.. that is what I've been meaning to speak with you about."

"Hm? How come?"

Dusknoir took a deep breath in, and out. He was unsure of how Aimilios would react to his words, but it's worth a try.

"I've seen the way you've been overworking yourself lately. You've been cutting down on meals, water and even your own rest just to try and finish it all on time. And while I truly appreciate - along with many others - the work you're putting up for Wigglytuff's Guild.. I can't help but feel worried for you. It just worries me to no end. Do you understand my point of view here?"

Aimilios was silent, only to lower his head in what felt like shame. Dusknoir didn't want him to feel ashamed for the work he's done, so he quickly recollects himself before more damage is done.

".. Look. I am not you to not do the busywork at all, far from it. All I want you to do is that you take care of yourself first and foremost, and do what you must afterwards. That is all I am asking of you. Do you understand now?"

Aimilios raised his head again, looking a bit less ashamed, but a bit sad at the same time.

".. You're probably right. I haven't really noticed it myself, which is just- I just had no idea.."

Dusknoir held the boy close for a hug, trying his hardest to ensure that it's not his fault. Never was.

"It's okay, it's okay. I understand. Just go back inside and rest, you don't need to worry about it anymore."

Aimilios nodded and went back inside as the night finally set it. Dusknoir felt like a rock has finally been lifted off of his chest, now that he knows that the boy won't completely abandon his own needs again. Now he can only hope that his message got through.

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rea-grimm · 4 months

Text

Dragon Haytham Kenway

You thought you and Haytham would spend Halloween together. You didn't expect anything big from him. It occurred to you that you could wear costumes and just watch a movie, go see friends, or just have a quiet evening in the mood for a spooky holiday.

Unfortunately, Haytham had to meet with the other Templars at the last minute. You weren't one of them yourself, as you had a different view of things, but that didn't stop you from being together. You didn't want him to go, but he promised you it wouldn't be long and he'd be back soon.

He left you home alone with that. You lasted a while. You were actually counting the minutes, until the time he promised you he would come back. But as the evening wore on, you started to worry that something might happen to him.

Not that he couldn't take care of himself, but you were still worried. In addition, he did not pick up the phone or answer your messages. He mostly texted you that he would be late and the like.

To shorten the wait, you changed into your costume, handing out candy to the carolers, but constantly watching for the Templar's return.

It was already long past midnight and you still knew nothing about him. You waited another twenty minutes before you decided to check on him.

You knew they were supposed to meet at Charles' house. That was also your first destination, where you decided to go in search of him.

You had never been to Charles' house before, but you often waited for Haytham outside. You walked up to the house and knocked on the door. However, the house was completely dark and silent.

That's how it looked at first impression. however, when you took a few steps back, you noticed that the light was on in the basement. You tried knocking again and ringing the bell.

No response again. However, you didn't want to just go back, so you tried to grab the handle. It was unlocked. You walked in and called out to Haytham and Charles. Again no answer.

It was obvious that there was no one on the upper floors of the house, so you made your way to the basement. You found the stairs leading down and started up them.

You had the impression that they were endless and so was the basement. It's like you went to another world. You expected to find them in a small room at a small table, playing cards, discussing politics, or whatever they were doing there.

Instead, you kept walking down the stairs. You didn't even see the ceiling anymore, just pillars and flickering lights.

You finally reached the bottom of the stairs. Now you found yourself in a giant hall where you couldn't see the end. It seemed endless to you, full of columns.

You hesitated whether to go further, but when you got this far, you didn't want to go back down the long stairs empty-handed. That's why you moved on.

You passed pillar after pillar and the beams attached to the pillars gave you light.

"What are you doing here? This is sacred ground! Is it not enough for you that you are delaying our Master from his mission?!” Charles Lee's voice came familiarly from behind you.

That person hated you from the first moment he found out you were in a relationship with Haytham. You had the impression that he was beaming at you.

“Hi Charles,” you greeted him. Even though he beat you, you wanted to prove to him that you were better. “I went for Haytham. He was late, he didn't answer my phone and I was worried,” you explained innocently.

“Maybe this is the opportunity I've been wanting,” he started talking to himself instead of answering you. "There's no one here to see me get rid of you!" he growled, pulling a knife from his belt and running towards you.

You screamed in shock and ran away. Although you had no idea where, but mainly away from the madman.

You were running when you tripped over your own foot and very soon you were on the ground. Charles was on your heels and before you could scramble to your feet he would be with you.

You were mad at yourself for it, but now wasn't the time to feel sorry for yourself. You rolled over, ready to kick him before he had a chance to stab you.

You had no idea how it happened or how it was possible, but before Charles could get to you, a giant, dark blue dragon flew towards you and got between you and Charles.

It was a stunning creature with beautifully coloured scales. What interested you even more, however, was how Charles spoke to the creature. He spoke to him with respect as he spoke to your Templar. As if the dragon was Haytham.

Charles made the excuse that you were just delaying Haytham and distracting him from his goal. The dragon didn't like that though, and before you knew it, he breathed a fire out of its mouth, narrowly missing Charles, who must have felt its heat. The dragon roared at him some more, causing the room to shake, before turning in your direction.

You were still on the ground and even though your mind was telling you to "RUN!" you were paralyzed and couldn't move. You watched with horror in your eyes as the dragon's head bowed down to you before the entire lizard was engulfed in dim light.

As the light faded, Haytham stood before you, dragon wings, horns sticking out of his forehead, and a long scaly tail. He didn't look at all excited to see you there.

He was the first to tell you that you had no business being there. You almost got yourself killed. However, when he saw your guilty expression mixed with confusion and fear, he just sighed. Haytham bent down and took you in his arms.

"Sorry to keep you waiting so long," he apologized. You shook your head that he had nothing to apologize for. You should have trusted him, but you also confessed your fears.

With that, he carried you back to your home, where he intended to relieve you of all worries.

Assassin's Creed Masterlist

#assassin's creed x reader #assassin's creed #haytham kenway #haytham x reader #dragon haytham kenway

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bokettochild · 9 months

Note

with my father's funeral today and your perchance to write excellent "Wars/Time/Sky going dad", felt like telling you about a rather fitting song for any of the Link-Dads (although im mostly focusing on Sky and Legend)

it's called "My Father's Eyes" by Eric Clapton. he wrote it as his whole life, he never met his father. one lyric from it "I feel like a bridge that was washed away. My foundations were made of clay" made me think of Legend and how although he had his uncle, you do have part of him longing to have had parents at some point. knowing they love you helps, but it's quite different when they're gone forever

trust me, i know

another fitting line was "As my soul, slides down to die, how did I lose him, what did i try? Bit by bit, I've realized. That he was here with me, I looked into my father's eyes." it reminded me of when Legend realizes that Sky is pretty much his dad now. even though he never had his father, he looked up and saw him in Sky

it's a great song, my dad loved it

I'm sorry I didn't get to this over the weekend when you sent it, but as soon as I could, i sat down and listened to the song.

I don't know why or how I came out writing what I did, but I hope it helps at least a little (I think you were asking for a story? Sorry if I read this wrong)

Anyways, my brain's been trapped by the last update, and the song made me listen to other similar ones and I got this

Midnight Skies

Legend won’t lie and say he doesn’t feel jealous when, the moment they arrive at Hyrule castle, Four runs and jumps into the arms of the first knight they see. Not that he’d freely admit to said jealousy though as it churns in his gut when the man swings their smallest hero around with a deep laugh before settling small feet again to the earth and ruffling already mused and messy blonde hair. Height aside, there’s enough resemblance; something in the eyes and the set of the jaw, that leaves no doubt as to the fact that the armored soldier is their smithy’s father.

And doesn’t that just sting.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t let on anything over dinner, as not one but two men sit to their smithy’s side, father and grandfather all too eager to hear how their boy has been, egging stories out of the heroes and sharing some of their own. All while Four groans into the table and tries, desperately, to discredit all present and deny any and all accusations. Legend manages, somehow, to smile and laugh along, all while something dark twists inside his gut, hating the smithy for the way the other hero groans and complains about father and grandfather both.

As if he isn’t the luckiest one among them to have both.

Time’s father was a tree, or so the joke goes.

Twilight was raised by a whole village, the local blacksmith taking primary care of teaching him as he grew up, but even then, the relationship isn’t exactly father and son.

Warriors keeps any word of family held close to his chest, but the brief mentions in past imply that any father he knew was distant and typically drunk.

Wild doesn’t remember being a kid, much less having a family.

Wind was raised by his grandmother.

Hyrule’s father was gone before he was ever born.

Sky was an orphan raised in the academy by the elderly housekeeper and her husband.

And well, Legend had his uncle. For all of eight years before Ganon’s knights killed the man in a sewer beneath the castle. And even after the triforce brought him back, the man was... different.

It hurt.

Four’s father is warm. And when the smithy splits, four persons now rather than one, all are greeted by color and treated with fondness.

Uncle could never understand why he’d changed. Why the little boy who had wanted to run an orchard and live in the country would suddenly wake up crying most nights. Why warm hugs were fought off in panic. He’d been startled when Legend couldn’t stand to so much look at a dog, never mind pet one. There’d been endless confusion, and on some nights, he’d overheard Uncle talking with the Elder’s wife. She’d come up to check on them, on him specifically, but they’d both thought he was asleep. He wishes he had been. He'd never have heard Uncle admit he didn’t know how to handle him anymore. He'd never have heard the man call him a stranger.

Legend had set out the next day, claiming to visit Zelda.

A visit turned into a plea for anything to get him out, which itself turned to a mission to Holodrum to find Din.

Some days, he regrets having left.

The house was empty when he came home. He’s still not exactly sure what happened, and he couldn’t bear to ask, but he hopes, wherever he went, that Uncle’s life got easier without him.

Sometimes he wishes he’d fought back the screaming of his mind and just allowed strong arms to wrap around him one last time. Wishes he’d hid it better. Realistically, at nine years old, there was no way to hide the demons in his mind. Not while living in a little one room cottage. Not when Uncle stayed up late anyways, or late for Legend anyway. Now, nine o’clock hardly seems late at all, especially when sleep evades him so often, but back then, it’d seemed so very late indeed, especially in winter.

Sometimes, when Warriors takes out his pipe or someone cleans their sword, he can almost smell the heavy tobacco and sword grease scent the old knight always carried on him. Even now, sitting in Four’s house, the smell is everywhere. Grandpa Smith smells just like him, and doesn’t that just rub it all in deeper? Doesn’t watching the little touches, the hands on shoulders, the hair ruffles, the slaps of the back that nearly send the smithy flying, just make his heart scream and fists clench with the desperate urge to punch the smithy in his smiling face.

Four just had to have it all, didn’t he? And the smithy doesn’t even realize it.

Legend excuses himself as soon as dinner is over.

He doesn’t make a big deal about it, is careful to smile and duck out when the others are all talking. It’s just all too much to stand and watch, and it hurts a part of him that he thought he’d numbed ages ago. So, the moment he gets out, a breathe of relief escapes into the night air around him.

He’s fine.

No really, he is. He’s fine.

Gnarled fingers catch old wood. The roof over the forge isn’t low, but it’s lower than the one in the house, and with the slope of it, so common in add-ons, it’s easy to hoist himself up onto the thatching, to settle back against weathered straw and stare up at the skies.

The night is a cool one, but any breeze there is exists in only a whisper, and he manages to not shiver against it as he lays, tracing constellations and finding long familiar ones.

Well, until he remembers how Uncle had been the one who’d taught him how to find them, then it’s ruined.

He’s not mad, he really isn’t.

But it does hurt.

It hurts like finding his parent’s house. Like knowing they were alive for years, that they weren’t dead like everyone said, or at least not when they’d said it. They’d been out there; lost, but thinking of him, and if he’d only come sooner, set out instead of lingering, innocent and clueless at home with Uncle, he might have had a chance to meet them.

Legend pushes himself up, arms wrapping around his knees as he stares to the stoney path that leads to the forge door.

Did he have his mother’s eyes? Before the dark world’s transformations changed their color for good? Did he get the pretty crystal blue from her? His father? Zelda has the same color as he used to; which parent did she get it from? They’re almost each others’ reflections, past scars and pain, the streaks of silver in her hair and the creases beneath his eyes. Life hasn’t been kind to either of them, but they had each other.

He wishes they’d had more.

He hasn’t been around as much as he wishes, but they’ve sat up and talked about it once or twice. What were they like- Zelda once mused into his arms- their parents? Was their father tall? Was their mother pretty? Do they have his nose? Which one had slender hands? Which one did the two of them get their sharp ears from? Who was the strong one?

And when the sun had set lower, and it’d been too dark in the keep for them to see each other anymore: would they have loved them? Would they be proud? Would their parents have looked at what they’ve done with their lives and smile? Would they be sad?

He’d never said it, kept it close, but tonight, staring up at the sky, Legend wonders if they would have understood.

Or maybe they would have been like Uncle, and the fate that got its claws into their children would have made them turn away in despair as well.

His throat hurts.

“Legend?”

The voice is soft, but it makes him start all the same. He hadn’t heard the door open at all, but there’s a shadow on the path below, framed in the light from the open cottage door.

Quickly, he runs a sleeve over his face. He hasn’t cried in a long time, but he checks just to be sure. After all, you can never be too cautious around other people. Especially adults.

“Vet?” the voice repeats, a tick of concern in it.

For a moment he debates just waiting for them to go in again and give up. He’s tired of people, and he doesn’t want to deal with whomever it is. He thinks it’s Twilight, that or Warriors, because the voice isn’t rough enough for Time, and the shadow is too tall for anyone else.

But after the time on the road that they’ve had, after he’s scolded Wild and Hyrule both for wandering off so often, he doesn’t exactly have the right to let the others worry. Not when he’s scolded so much for them doing the same.

“Up here,” it’s more sigh than call, drawn out reluctantly as he hunches forwards a bit further, chin settling on his folded arms.

The shadow on the path shifts. There’s the sound of everyone in the house still laughing and talking, but it fades as the door falls shut, the light and thus the shadow below disappearing with the noise.

He breathes again. They went in. He’s alone again.

He kind of wishes he wasn’t.

“You alright?”

So, he isn’t? Legend straightens, looking down below the thatching and catching sight of sideswept bangs and dark eyes. Twilight’s stare is shadowed, by his hair, the light, and some emotion the veteran can’t name, but it’s intense. If he hadn’t been fixed by it so many times before, it would make Legend squirm. It doesn’t though. He’s had the rancher up his tail enough before to be used to his stare. Scolding him for bullying Sky (he’d just been frustrated, but who even cared really?) for snarking back, or teasing Time. Twilight’s stare was on him almost the whole time he got turned into a rabbit, and while it wasn’t nearly as stern, it held a similar weight. Now it’s more similar to the night after that horrid battle with the shadow. Twilight’s eyes aren’t harsh or accusing, but there’s something warm in them for the brief moment he can see them before the man disappears beneath the awning.

Callused hands catch the beam at the edge of the rood, and it’s only a moment or so before the rancher is swinging up in front of him, puffing and grinning crookedly as midnight blue eyes catch his own. “Up for some company?”

He shrugs, but motions to the roof around him, settling further into his slump.

Twilight’s smile fades into a frown in moments. “Something bothering you?”

He shakes his head.

Dark brows draw low as the rancher swings up fully, crawling across the roof before settling at his side, heavy eyes fixed on him all the while. “What’s eating you?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles into his arms, but even as he says it, he knows Twilight won’t believe him.

The rancher’s hand lifts from the roof, hovering between them, uncertain.

Legend turns his stare back to the path below them. “’m just tired, rancher. ‘s fine.”

Heavy eyes scream disbelief more than words bother to utter.

Legend shifts, curling a bit tighter and setting his jaw, gaze fixing on the ground below. If he doesn’t look, Twilight’s pained stare can’t make him talk. If he doesn’t move, maybe Twilight too will give up and just walk away. It would make trying to sort his head out easier.

“Ledge, hey, talk to me.”

The rancher’s voice is so soft it physically hurts.

“You’ve been tense all evening, bunny-”

And that is just the breaking point because that’s Uncle’s pet name for him! He can’t help the way he turns, scowling, ready to hiss that Twilight cannot call him that, only to pause as predicted at the man’s heavy stare. Twilight looks all so familiarly pained, like he does when Wild’s struggling with his memories or Time’s being especially harsh. He’s never seen it directed at him though.

He's not sure what to do with it.

Dark hair sweeps forwards as the older man shifts, leaning against his own raised legs to mimic the veteran’s pose, stare heavy and seeking, but not expectant. “Did something happen?”

It takes a moment for him to remember to respond, but when he does he shakes his head quickly. Breaking eye contact helps, and he drops his gaze back to the path below, chin settling in the folds of his sleeves to stop him glancing back.

“Well somethings eating you.”

Not anything that’s the rancher’s business though.

“You’re not normally this quiet.”

That earns a look. A scowl that has Twilight chuckling, deep and throaty, shoulders shaking as the man turns glittering eyes back to the path.

Legend follows his gaze. There's nothing down there, but at least it’s something to look at. He needs that; if his mind doesn’t settle on something he just knows his thoughts will spiral out to places even he doesn’t recognize.

It’s quiet for a moment, only the deep sounds of Twilight’s breathing and the rustle of trees filling the air around them, and despite himself, Legend tunes himself to their sound, matching the rancher’s breath with his own until his heart slows a little in his chest and some of the knot that’s curled there loosens. It’s only then, as he matches the pace of the other, that Twilight breaks it to speak.

“Almost makes me miss home.”

“Ordon?” He’s not sure why he asked.

The rancher nods. “Yeah.” There’s another little chuckle, the shaking of the rancher’s head as he moves to lean back against his arms, eyes drifting upwards towards the sky. Legend tracks his stare, turned upwards to the Ancient Beast; the stars of its eyes twinkling extra bright against the expanse, as it stares down as though to meet it’s match. He huffs a little at the thought, silent, and turns back to stare at the path below them.

There’s a few stones missing on the left side, cracked and overgrown on the right.

It needs repair.

“I’ll bet Uli’s singing the baby to sleep right now,” the rancher muses, smile fond and lonesome. “Colin will have drifted off ages ago, and Rusl is probably still out in the forge, getting the last of the fall work done before the snow sets in.” The man hums, rolling his shoulders. “Goat kids’ll be nearly grown about now, ready for slaughter.”

Legend winces, and it earns another laugh from the man as sparkling eyes turn down to him again, grin still present but all too aware. “How about you? What will it be like at home for you?”

He debates answering, before at least deciding it’s not worth it to let Twi keep pushing. “The trees are probably ready for harvest. Orchard will be all full of fallen fruit right about now.”

“And?” the other man prods.

The veteran shrugs. “Fields are probably being cleared. I dunno, I’m not a farmer.”

“What is your family probably doing?”

Something sharp and bitter inside whispers ‘lying in graves’ but he keeps that to himself, instead answering “don’t have one.”

Again the soft smile fades, warm eyes all too pained, all too knowing, all too frustratingly warm as he sits and tries to ignore them. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s life.”

“So you have no one?”

Silence.

“Not even a friend somewhere, waiting for you to come home?”

He shrugs again, he’s not sure. Zelda is out there, but she knows he’s gone and won’t be expecting him back. Syrup and Irene might notice he’s gone, Gully will, but they won’t be waiting either. They all know he comes and goes like the autumn wind, there one moment and gone the next. It’s almost a saying back in Kakariko that if you see the hero you’d better catch him before he fades away, as there’s no telling where he is from day to day.

Seeing as there’s no place to linger for long, he doesn’t know what they expect.

Twilight twists around, gaze heavy and eyes sorrowful. “Is that what it is? Seeing Four at home?”

He huddles down a bit furtehr, as though the flinch off the blow the words deal.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” And it’s less question than it is sigh, the rancher turning back to the sky, pain still present in midnight blue, the stars dimming within. “When there’s no one at home waiting-”

“Do you have to rub it in?”

Twilight starts, flushes slightly and moves to rub at his neck. “Sorry.”

“It’s not the end of the world,” he mumbles into his sleeves, fingers gripping tight in dark folds. “’s just how things are. No point crying about it.”

“Makes things awful lonely though.”

As though Twilight needed to tell him.

Legend curls just a bit tighter into himself, eyes falling shut. It’s childish, but a part of him hopes that if he closes his eyes, Twilight will just go away and stop reminding him of it all. “Don’t you have a champion to be wrangling right about now?”

The thatch beneath them rustles, betraying some sort of movement from his companion, but this time he has the sense to keep his eyes shut as Twilight answers, has the sense to leave himself in the dark as to the look on the other man’s face, or what he’s doing. “Wild seemed pretty content to sit and listen to Time trying to out match Leon and Mister Smith.”

“And you weren’t content to stay with them?”

There’s a soft little hum and then “I wanted to be out here with you.”

What the actual-

“Why?”

“Because.” As though it’s the simplest thing in the world.

And it seems like to Twilight it must be, because when he lifts his face to stare at the man, bright eyes are turned up towards the sky, face peaceful and undisturbed, even as Legend stares in utter and complete confusion. He keeps staring too, waiting for Twilight to admit some real reason, or to look at him and laugh at him for believing the words, but the man doesn’t. Twilight just keeps watching the sky, gaze darting from one constellation to another until at last the man frowns, face creasing in confusion as he stares upwards.

Curious, Legend tries to follow his gaze. He has to edge a bit closer to the other man, but the flick of an ear is the only response to his motion, so that even when he's only a few inches away, there’s no complaint.

When he looks up, he sees the Holy Maiden cradling the moon in her arms.

“Four said there’s something round the moon,” it’s like Twi knows he’s looking too, although he knows there’s been nary a glance spared his way since last words were spoken. “but I can’t fathom what the heck it is.”

Legend huffs. “It’s the Holy Maiden.”

“The wha?” Twilight’s smile is almost infectuous.

He rolls his eyes, leaning a bit closer to trace the stars, showing the rancher how they mesh and weave into the image. “It’s Lolia, goddess of the Mirror World.” His hand falls, and it’s only then he realizes just how close he’s pressed himself to his brother’s side, Twilight’s gaze on him though stops him from shifting away, almost wary to move at all as the man watches. “She’s Hylia’s reflection.”

There’s a furrow in dark brows, but nothing said. Rather, an arm comes up around behind him, warm and solid against his back.

He's not sure what prompts him to continue, gaze trailing up to stare at the crescent cradled in star formed arms. “They say that when darkness first fell on the world, the people were afraid the world was ending, so Lolia crafted the moon to give them light and assurance, even on the longest and harshest of nights. They say she holds it up herself each night to give promise to her people, and whenever it’s light fades, she renews it so they’ll never be without.”

“Always just thought it was a big rock in the sky,” comes the answering hum.

Legend snorts.

The arm behind him shifts, lifting to settle around his shoulder and pull him closer as the rancher’s other hand points upwards, towards the Great Triangle. “What about that bunch over there.”

Laughter escapes him despite himself at the man’s incompetance. “You really were brough up human, huh?”

He’s expecting some scolding or huff, but Twilight just glances down, arching a brow expectantly.

Legend rolls his eyes and gives in. “it’s the Great Triangle, the stars that point the way to Hyrule Castle. Once upon a time, they say the Triforce was formed up there.”

~~~~~~~~~

#lu legend #lu twilight #ketto writes #asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #cantankerouscanuck my beloved #best wishes with you friend #i hope you find healing

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vvmylove · 22 days

Text

Comfort

Wrote this at 4 am, badly written, not proofread, may contain mistakes? but at least its better than nothing

~1.3k words

Just a Jichang comforting his teen daughter (Cuz im going mental and I need this irl sighs)

TW: teen angst, Insecurities, (depression?)

Jichang opened the door to his office, his eyes meeting yours on the other side before greeting you. As he led you inside the room, he pulled out a leather chair for you to sit in, one that stood behind an extravagant coffee table. Your nervousness was evident in your behavior, the way you fumbled with the hem of your uniform and how you avoided his gaze.

"I was expecting you." He finally started with the usual grin on his face. "We need to have a discussion." Y/N walks over to his desk, squinting her eyes. She walks around the table and stares at him for a second before leaning in.

"What do you want from me, huh?" She asks him. Lately she's been on edge, arguing back in any situation.

He let out a light chuckle, finding humor in the situation. There was something about her that reminded him of his younger self, especially with the fiery personality and directness.

"To talk" He replied. His eyes observed her closely, curious as to why she was acting so defensive. He tried to soften his tone to appease her, "I'm not here to discipline you. Is something the matter?"

She squints her eyes at him, obviously annoyed by his calm demeanor, taking a step back, "About what?" She simply asks him, turning her head away from him.

Jichang let out a small sigh, finding her attitude to be both amusing and irritating. It seemed like she thought he was up to no good, even when he was just trying to speak to her openly. "You have been behaving...strangely these past few weeks," He stated, crossing his arms. "Your grades are slipping, you seem to be taking longer to complete your work assignments, and last night you were out until midnight."

"I have been acting strangely?" Her voice squeaks a little, defensive over her own attitude. "What do you mean huh?" She asks him, crossing her arms as she continues to look away from him.

"Well, as I was saying," Jichang continued, finding her defensiveness to be a bit annoying. It was obvious that she was hiding something from him, but why?

"Your performance as a student has gone down considerably within the past month or so. You don't get enough sleep at night, and it seems like you're trying to avoid me." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before continuing, "You're not getting into trouble off campus, are you?"

Y/N takes another step back, biting the inside of her cheek. Things have been hard for her, getting into arguments, avoiding everyone- she couldn't tell Jichang the truth. She didn't want to. She can handle it on her own, plus, what's he gonna do?

She sighs, "Nothing, leave me alone. I'm going to my room," She tells him before storming off.

"Y/N." Jichang called out, stopping her as she began to walk away. As usual, his daughter never answered his questions. But this time, he wouldn't let the situation end there.

"Not this time." He stated, the sternness in his voice hinting at how serious he was. "Come back here and talk to me."

Y/N wasn't going to let him win this time, not at all. What did he care about? And besides, what is he gonna do? That's what she thought. Besides, it would be embarrassing if he actually knew. She was just a teen anyways.

"Leave me alone," she groans once again, pushing past him. She rushes over to her room and slams the door.

Jichang was fuming at her attitude, but he wasn't about to give in so easily. This time, he wasn't going to let her walk away so casually. He grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open, marching into the room and making his way to her. He stood in front of her, arms crossed, blocking her exit. If she was going to be stubborn this time, then he would be as well.

"We need to have a serious conversation," He stated, his brow furled in disappointment.

Y/N could hear the disappointment in his voice. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint anyone. Her eyes started to well, but she quickly wiped the tears away.

"I said get out," she states, her voice shaking.

Jichang didn't budge, knowing well enough that he wasn't going to leave her room just like that. Especially when he suspected something was wrong with her. She couldn't just keep deflecting his questions like this.

"No." He stated plainly, "You're not getting out of this conversation this time. I won't leave until you tell me what is bothering you."

"None of your business, I told you that already," She sniffles, hating the fact that she's showing weakness at this moment. She hated telling her dad things, she hated adding more of a burden to what he was already dealing with. She stands up, turning away from him. "Don't worry, i'll be fine,"

"No, it is my business." He replied sternly, crossing his arms as he watched his daughter turn away from him. He knew it was his job to worry about her, despite how much she hated it. "Now sit." Jichang commanded, gesturing to the bed that was behind her. It was clear that he planned to stay in her room with her until she explained the reason for her recent behavior.

Y/N was about to give in, knowing how stubborn he was. It was hard on her, it's been hard. She's noticed the sleepless nights, the arguments, and her failing grades had been affecting her. She bites the inside of her cheek before listening to him, taking a seat on her bed. She fiddles with the hem of her shirt. "What" she says coldly.

Jichang sat down on the bed beside her, his gaze never leaving hers as he waited for her to speak. He took in her worn-out and tired expression, noticing that she had clearly been neglecting her well-being as of late. If he had to guess, she was keeping something from him that had been eating away at her for some time now. But what was it? Something that made it so hard for her to confess.Without saying anything, he reached for her arm and held it in his hands, letting his thumb caress her skin.

At that moment, his comforting touch had her bawling her eyes out. She didn't want him to see her like this, but couldn't help herself. She started to sob in her hands

"You don't understand," she starts off.

He said nothing as he watched his daughter break down in front of him, her body heaving with sobs. He had seen her cry before, but not to this degree. So this must have been a topic that was extremely sensitive to her.

Jichang didn't speak, choosing to listen and comfort her as she opened her heart to him. He pulled her close to his chest and held her in his arms, stroking her hair in reassurance.

Y/N leaned into this touch, sobbing into his arms, wetting his shirt from her tears. It took her a few minutes, sniffling before she could start speaking. "It's just," She starts off, wiping her face "You don't understand- i- its so stupid," she cries out.

"I just haven’t been feeling myself. I tried so hard to be perfect, have good grades. And all I ever do is disappoint," her own heart shatters. She thought so negatively of herself.

Jichang held her close as she cried, her words hitting him in the core. Hearing her thoughts on the situation, he felt anger coursing through his veins, his grip on her tightening. “You don’t have to be perfect, you are fine just the way you are. You’re still young, and you never disappoint me,” he whispers into her ear, comforting her.

#do you guys miss me #well- fuck ptj but here ya go #lookism #lookism thoughts #lookism fanfic #jichang #sigh

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