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ckret2 · 15 days

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Chapter 48 of human Bill Cipher slowly dying inside for 24 hours straight with no signs of stopping anytime soon:

The Eclipse: Part 6

Over a month since his death and after nearly 50 chapters, at long last, the moment you've all been waiting for:

Bill has a complete physical and mental breakdown.

Unfortunately there's only one person available to deal with it.

They landed near where they'd camped last night. While the Pines climbed out, Bill stared at the sharp gray rocks beneath the cliff. The blood was gone. It took him a moment to process that Ford was speaking: "We can pack our tents, return Tate's boat, and borrow a phone to call Stanley for a ride."

Bill numbly climbed onto land.

Their tents were in disarray, but more or less where they'd left them the night before. While Ford and Dipper dealt with the largest tent and cleaned up the campsite, Bill methodically attempted to fold up the tent he'd slept in.

He couldn't make sense of it. There were too many plastic rods with too many little joints and too many fabric flaps, he couldn't parse the geometry of it. This should be easy, he'd watched Dipper assemble the tent last night, how hard could it be to do the same in reverse?

But it wasn't working. His hands were shaking. The joints were bending wrong, the joints were bending in directions that shouldn't exist, in impossible dimensions, shrinking and expanding perversely as they twisted in alien foreshortening—

Bill let out a gasp so loud and sharp that Ford and Dipper immediately whipped around to face him. Ford asked, "What is it?"

Bill couldn't speak. He just stared down at his awful human legs.

"Bill?"

Voice very far away—but impressively calm and flat—Bill said, "I have to sit down."

"Why? What happened?"

"My legs aren't working. I can't feel them."

His knees buckled. He tried to grip them to keep them straight, but found only one arm responded. "And—my left arm." He dropped to his knees in the mud.

And suddenly he was the center of attention, two humans moving around him in a dizzying flurry, all grotesque limbs and fabric: "Hey, are you okay?" "What happened? Are you injured?" "Think we should get help?" "Maybe he needs food—"

Too much. He closed his eyes, but there were still fingers on his arm and shoulders and back. He swatted at them with his functioning hand. "Don't touch me don't touch me DON'T TOUCH ME!" His shriek startled the birds from a nearby tree. He attempted to bite somebody, he wasn't sure who—this was what he'd been reduced to, no legs, no strength, no power, he couldn't even protect himself from being touched, all he had left was his teeth—but he misjudged the distance and bit only air. But it was enough to make the humans back off, shrinking into the distance.

"Don't touch me. Stop trying to move me. Don't ask me why I can't move. I don't know. This—this—" he gestured frantically at his body. He was moving too fast, talking too fast. "This—corpse—human body—is stupid. It's just being stupid! I need to sit. Leave me alone, I need to sit. I need to sit, and—look at nothing, and breathe." He was talking far too fast, breathing too fast. "I need it so much. Go away."

No matter how hard Bill tried to imagine the humans spontaneously ceasing to exist, they did not go away. Ford knelt in front of him, studying his face. "Try to smile."

Bill forced a smile. "Good. Good, good. Positive thinking."

"No. I'm trying to see if you're having a stroke." He sat back. "Your face muscles are still working symmetrical."

Bill decided to keep smiling anyway. He thought it might help. Happy happy happy.

"You say your can't feel your legs."

"Yes."

"Or your left arm."

"Yes."

"Did you feel any pain beforehand? Tingling in the limbs, or...?"

"No—no, no. They were working fine and then they were gone. They just—disappeared." Bill laughed. The laugh went on too long and sounded too high and too nervous.

Ford nodded. "Okay. Drink this."

A water bottle materialized in Bill's field of vision. It took a couple of tries for Bill to manipulate his hand through three-dimensional space to grasp it. He shakily drank as much as he could. It tasted like drowning.

"Dipper, run to the bait shop and call for an... The nearest hospital is at least twenty miles outside Gravity Falls' weirdness barrier, Bill can't get there. Call for a doctor and I'll stay here to—"

"No," Bill snapped, "no no no, don't call a doctor. I don't want—" He didn't want to be seen like this. He didn't want somebody picking him up and helping him into an ambulance like he was too weak to move himself. He didn't want Mabel to know. Bad enough Ford and the brat did. "I don't need it. I'm fine."

"Fine?!" Ford gestured at him in disbelief. "Three fourths of your limbs aren't functioning—!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Something's wrong with the body. It's got nothing to do with me. I'm fine, I'm just in it." He shut his eyes and tried to breathe. "Just—just let me sit."

"Let you sit and then do what?"

"Give me time. It'll come back. Don't tell anyone and—stop looking at me."

There was silence. Bill didn't want to open his eyes. He heard Ford stand and walk away.

####

"Do you think he's faking?" Dipper murmured.

Ford hated that that always had to be the first question. "I can't imagine what he'd stand to benefit from pretending he can't walk." Bill had been desperate to get back inside the last two days. If he'd now decided to—what? maybe take advantage of his freedom to try to escape?—then why hadn't he done that when they got separated in the lake, or in the caves where Bill could see in the dark and Ford hadn't known how to call the geodites? If he was trying to separate Ford and Dipper from each other so he could kill them one by one—why hadn't he just let them die?

It was hard not to think about how he really had saved them for no clear reason.

"He's spent two very stressful days hardly eating, sleeping poorly, and hiking through half the mountain. I'd say he needs food and rest. And probably more water." He'd gulped down two thirds of Ford's water bottle.

"Seriously? He can't feel his legs, is—is that normal for like a day without food and sleep?" Dipper asked. "People can go longer than that, right? You've gone longer."

"It's not a 'normal' symptom of exhaustion, hunger, or dehydration. But I think he'll fight us if we try to get medical help. Let's deal with the immediate problems first and—see where we are then. Even if it doesn't help, at least then he won't be paralyzed and starving."

Dipper nodded uncertainly. "What do we do if he's dying?"

The boy catastrophized at the drop of a hat. In a way, Ford supposed it was a good thing—having been through his fair share of catastrophes, he knew it helped to be prepared—but Dipper was so young. "Get him to a doctor as soon as we can; and, if that isn't enough... hope we're lucky." In other words: hope Bill stayed dead.

Dipper nodded again. "What's our strategy if Weirdmageddon restarts? Maybe... I wonder if that's what the Axolotl was trying to warn me—"

"Lunch first," Ford said. "Then we can plan for the apocalypse."

####

Bill knew they were going to make him move. They hated him. They would parade him through the streets to make a mockery of him, look at the alien loser in a malfunctioning corpse, washed-up puppeteer who can't even control a meat marionette, he's already dead and you can make his corpse in the forest a tourist destination—

"Okay," Ford said. "We'll give it an hour. Dipper's heading to town to get some proper food and call the shack."

The shack. Like a prison cell with an open door and a black hole inside trying to suck him back in. "Don't tell them—"

Dipper said, "I won't, I'm just letting them know we're not dead. And that we'll call again in a couple of hours."

No doubt so that Bill couldn't kill them without the shack knowing something was wrong. "Right."

"Do you... want any specific food?"

"Not hungry."

There was a pause. "Right. I'll just... grab something."

Bill didn't care what he did. As Dipper left the sound of each footstep was like a knife in Bill's ears. He just needed to breathe, needed to breathe and be normal and feel normal and happy—

Something soft landed on his head.

Bill opened his eyes.

There was an unzipped, slightly moist sleeping bag draped over his head and around his shoulders; and Ford standing several feet away, hands awkwardly clasped behind his back, looking somewhat embarrassed with himself.

Bill said, "What."

Ford cleared his throat. "It. Helped when you were, ah... had a hair cut. I thought—it can't hurt."

It took Bill a moment to figure out what he meant. "Oh." The towel. Ford had seen him hide under a towel. Right.

Ford winced and muttered, "Maybe it can hurt."

Bill croaked, "What."

It wasn't until he tried to speak that Bill realized he was crying so hard he couldn't breathe. His vision swam, his shoulders shook, his breath came in sharp hitches—no no no no, that wasn't okay, not in front of— Stop, stop, stop.

He covered his eyes with his hand. The water bottle slid off his thighs and spilled on the ground. Between gasping breaths, Bill forced out, "This's—this is—good. Good."

"How is it...?"

"It's a—hint. This—it's—prob... probably... ps-psycho—som—ss—"

"Psychosomatic?"

"Mm. Mhmm." He tried to get in a deeper breath and failed. "'Sgreat. Means—no inj—injuries. Flesh is—fine."

"So you're..." Ford's footsteps came closer, "saying it's psychological—?"

"No!" Bill let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm FINE! 'M happy. It's the body. It's—some hormone—hunger—exhaustion—just... s-synapses—and neurotrans—transmm—tr—"

"Easy. You can barely talk." He heard Ford sit next to him, felt the sleeping bag shift as he brushed against it. "Try to focus on breathing—"

"WHAT do you THINK I'm TRYING to—" Bill ineffectively pummeled Ford through the sleeping bag. "Move! Move, move, move! Don't t—touch—" He let out a frustrated scream that morphed into a humiliating sob, and had to clap his functioning hand over his mouth to smother the sound. He was not this body; he was a separate thing locked inside the body. This body was a prison, this body was a punishment. The legs didn't work, because the body was doing something to him. These weren't his tears, his grief, his fear. They were the body's. Which hormone was at fault? What could he blame other than himself?

He felt Ford's weight shift away from his side. "Okay, okay," Ford said. "Just... take it easy."

Bill socked him again. "Don't t-talk to me like a horse." He covered his eyes.

He didn't mean to risk his life for Ford.

Former friend, false worshiper, useless pawn, now enemy. Bill had just seen him floating out there and he'd done it—and he'd forgotten he could die.

In the Nightmare Realm he had saved his friends from peril billions of times before, because it was so easy for him, powers like a god, to see someone he was fond of and casually pluck them out of harm's way. It had been billions upon billions of years since Bill had been vulnerable to physical harm. He'd seen Ford in danger and he'd done what he always did and he'd forgotten he could have died.

He could have died. Eternally, permanently, last chance—he could have died.

And it would have been for nothing.

Bill was selfish. He had effortlessly saved friends billions of times but he'd also casually let them die just as many—assuming he didn't kill them himself. He saved friends because he liked them; but he didn't put himself out for ex-friends. Ford hadn't had one nice thing to say to Bill in years. Bill would never lure Ford back under his sway. Ford's survival endangered Bill's. But Bill had saved him anyway. He hadn't even stopped to think.

He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think about saving the human hellbent on killing him, he didn't want to think about almost dying, he didn't want to think about how peaceful it had been floating under the water, how easy it would have been to open his mouth and breathe in—he didn't want to think. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted to empty his mind. He couldn't meditate through his hitching breaths and the way his stomach ached from struggling to keep his sobs silent, and his legs and left arm were gone.

He was fine. He was happy. He'd always been happy. Happy happy happy.

His entire body shook with sobs. He was dizzy—gasping between sobs for air he couldn't get. He was so lightheaded and crying so hard he couldn't stay upright. The edges of his vision went dark.

Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders and tugged him against his side. He held him up until Bill was too exhausted to cry anymore.

####

There was zipper noise, then a sound like shifting vinyl. Bill cracked his fingers apart to peer through them. Ford had unrolled the portable chessboard and was setting it up. "What?"

"It looks like we'll be here a while," Ford said, addressing his statement to the chessboard rather than to Bill. "It's... something else to focus on."

Bill wasn't sure what the emotion clawing its way through the grief-stricken haze in his mind was, but it felt very similar to relief. He nodded. "S—smart. I'm already—getting bored." His cheeks itched, his eyes burned, and his head was throbbing. As Ford set up the board, Bill closed his eyes and tried again to force himself to breathe more evenly. He was still dizzy from hyperventilating. Embarrassing—even a comatose human can breathe, and Bill couldn't even get that right. "Black?"

"I know."

Of course he knew. Bill always chose black. "First?"

"Fine." And Ford also knew, despite white traditionally getting the first move, Bill always moved first.

Bill waited in numb silence for Ford to finish setting up the board and sit on the other side. Moving almost automatically, Bill picked up a queen, hopped it over his line of pawns—

"Play it properly," Ford said irritably. "I put up with your cheating and lying for years, I'm not putting up with any more."

Bill gave Ford a look that he intended to be deeply offended, but immediately realized was probably just wet and pathetic. "Really? Now?"

Ford at least had the good sense to look a tad embarrassed, but he said, "I didn't set up the board to watch you move random pieces around like an untrained kindergartener."

"Three of my limbs don't work, Stanford."

"Are you suggesting your right arm doesn't remember the proper rules of chess?"

He wondered what Ford would say if he said yes. "I have a headache."

"You're probably dehydrated." Ford rummaged around in his backpack and offered over another bottle of water.

Bill reluctantly accepted it. He probably was dehydrated. "You owe me your life."

Ford fixed him with an unimpressed look. "You're trying to cash in a life debt... so you can cheat at chess?"

Bill opened his mouth; paused as he slowly thought that over; and dissolved into broken, hysterical giggles. "I don't know w-what I'm trying to do." He covered his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to steady his breathing again.

Ford sighed. He waited until Bill had regained some control over himself; and then he said, "You can make up one new rule."

Bill considered the offer. "Total, or per game?"

"Per game."

Deep breath. "Fine. But I'm not telling you what it is. You have to guess it."

Ford considered it. "Three conditions."

"Mm?"

"One: you have to share what the rule was at the end of the game. If any of your illegal moves didn't conform to that rule, you automatically lose."

"Mm."

"Two: any rule you come up with has to apply to both sides of the board equally. Nothing that only advantages you or disadvantages me," Ford said. "Three: if I can figure out what your new rule is before the game's over, I can use it too. Obviously, you lose if I ask you about the rule and you lie."

Bill mulled over Ford's terms. His head was so foggy, he'd already forgotten the first one. "Deal."

"Deal."

####

Bill lost every game.

Badly.

He was clobbered. He was creamed. He was a faint red smear upon the pavement.

Back in Ford's dreams, Bill had won a good four-fifths of their games. Ford had heard during his travels that Bill was a mediocre player, but he didn't think he was so bad that all of those games had been won due to cheating. Even when he wasn't cheating, Bill had sometimes taken Ford by surprise.

But now, Bill was squinting at the board like he was struggling to see where the pieces were. Occasionally his fingers pinched down on thin air like he was trying to grab a non-existent piece. So Ford assumed the catastrophic losses were more a reflection of Bill's mental state than his skill level.

The option to make up rules didn't save Bill, but it at least made the games more interesting—and unlike the rest of Bill's abysmal playing, the new rules gave Ford a glimpse of the devious mind still buried somewhere in the traumatized human body.

The first round, Bill decided that the queen could leapfrog over pieces like a knight, and when Ford pointed out that would mean whoever had the first move could put the opposing king in checkmate in one move, Bill grudgingly amended the rule: the queen could leapfrog to an empty square, but could only take pieces in a straight line in the conventional manner. Ford had to maintain a phalanx of pieces jealously clinging to his king to guard against Bill teleporting his queen to the king's side. Bill managed to check him twice before Ford won.

One round, Bill decreed that rooks could only land on pieces the same color as they were sitting on, then smugly nestled his king on a white square next to Ford's rook on a black square; and then promptly lost the game when Ford pointed out both of Bill's rooks were currently on white squares, meaning he'd broken his own rule before he'd revealed it.

One round he decided that kings could move like queens, which Ford only discovered when he thought he'd checkmated him and then Bill zoomed his king across the board to take Ford's bishop; and then Bill lost a few moves later when Ford used his own king's newly revealed power to properly corner Bill.

One round Bill decided that once any back row piece was captured, it reincarnated in the body of the corresponding front row pawn. Ford genuinely liked the new rule—it meant you had to capture and checkmate both the king and the king's pawn before the game was over, and you had to be more cautious about what pieces you took since it could inadvertently set up a previously harmless enemy pawn to devastate your side of the board. But by the time Bill revealed that rule by jumping a pawn like a knight, Ford had already taken Bill's king's pawn and seen a way to checkmate him in two moves. It was a sore disappointment to end the game before getting to experiment with the new rule.

A few games were so short that Ford won without ever seeing Bill pull a nonstandard move. Round seven was one such game. Ford cornered Bill with a knight and a bishop. That had been the quickest match yet. Game over. "Checkmate."

"Checkmate," Bill said.

Ford paused, looking over the board, thinking moving his bishop must have given one of Bill's pieces line of sight to his king; but no, his king was perfectly safe. "What?"

"Checkmate."

"You can't mate me, I just mated you."

"I know. Checkmate."

Frowning, Ford said, "Explain."

"The extra rule this game is that both kings are wearing suicide vests." He tapped his king, "He's wired up with enough explosives to wipe out the whole board." There was a look of steely exhaustion on his face. He looked like the kind of desperate, hopeless man who would put on a suicide vest. "If I'm going down, you're coming with me."

Ford laughed so hard his stomach hurt.

It was petty revenge for losing seven games in a row. A frustrated child flipping the chessboard, but making a self-deprecating joke out of it: as long as we both know I'm going to lose anyway...

When Ford had recovered himself enough to look at Bill again, Bill was giving him a faint, grim smile that didn't quite make it to his one open eye. Still—he looked a little less miserable than he had for the past hour. Or the past couple days.

Ford said, "We'll call that one a stalemate."

"I'll take it."

####

After trying all morning and half the afternoon, Dipper had remembered part of what the Axolotl had told him. Just one phrase: sixty degrees that come in threes. He could hear the rhythm and rhyme of whatever the Axolotl said next, something something something -eez—it rhymed, he was sure of that—but the rest...?

It took Dipper over an hour and a half to get back to the campsite; he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, and consequently, gotten lost in the forest. He returned with a plastic bag of the kind of junk food they regularly saw Bill consuming in the shack, a few slices of gas station pizza, and a clear takeout container of nachos. Bill immediately went for the nachos.

While Bill was inspecting the circle-shaped tortilla chips with obvious disappointment, Dipper rummaged around in the plastic bag until he found a small jar of rainbow sprinkles and offered them to Bill. Bill took it without acknowledging Dipper, awkwardly untwisted the lid with one hand and ripped off the seal with his teeth, and liberally drowned his nachos.

"The gas station looks like an earthquake hit it," Dipper reported. "And most of the cars had popped tires. I guess they must've floated up and then crashed back down." He took a cheese pizza slice and offered the box to Ford. "Nobody I asked saw the Axolotl."

Ford glanced at Bill, expecting him to have some kind of comment on that; but Bill just grunted "Mm," focused on the chess game like he thought he'd be killed if he glanced away.

Dipper pointed out when Bill pulled an illegal move, Ford explained the new rules they were playing by, and Dipper settled down to watch. He tried to razz Bill the next time he lost; but Bill made such a pathetic figure that he couldn't even enjoy making fun of him and quickly gave up.

During the next game, Bill unexpectedly slid a pawn backward diagonally to take out Ford's queen. While Ford was silently fuming over the loss of his most powerful piece, Dipper hazarded, "Can pawns capture both forward and backward?" That would have been Ford's guess too.

But Bill simply said, "No."

Dipper mumbled, "Huh," lost focus on the game, and stared off into the distance, murmuring something under his breath. He kept getting lost in his thoughts today. Ford supposed nobody in this hiking party was in the best mental state.

Maybe pawns could move like bishops? But when Ford tried to slide one diagonally across the board, Bill said, "That's illegal," and Ford returned it to its original spot. There was some hidden condition he was missing. Maybe which color square the pawn was on? Or maybe it was like en passant, you could only capture an enemy piece backwards if that was the first time the enemy piece moved?

When the game was over—Ford won, but Bill had held out longer than usual—Ford asked, "All right, what was the new rule?"

"Pawns can capture forward and backward." While Ford and Dipper stared at him in mute outrage, Bill ignored them to casually shift his posture from kneeling—his knees had gotten sore—to lotus position, and said, "Next game?" as though he couldn't even be bothered to notice the humans' fury.

"But that's exactly what we said!" Ford snapped. "You lied to me!"

"No," Bill said, "I lied to the kid. I'm not playing against the kid. Why are you paying attention to what I tell him?"

Dipper demanded, "How is that fair? Anyone listening would think—"

But he fell silent when Ford laughed. "Of course," Ford said. "I should have expected that. Any loophole you can find. That's part of the game to you, isn't it."

Bill gave Ford an unsettlingly knowing look; and Ford supposed it was part of the game to him, too.

(Somewhere in the back of Bill's foggy mind, he kept count: three times. Before today, Bill wasn't sure he'd heard Ford laugh once this summer. What changed? What was Bill doing differently? Maybe Ford only liked him when he was completely broken.)

It took until halfway through the next game for Ford to realize Bill had moved his legs.

####

Over Ford's protests that they should wait until his strength was back, Bill insisted they get moving immediately. He'd rather be locked in the shack again than spend one more minute sitting by the lake.

"I hate being surrounded by trees. Why do humans like nature so much. This is miserable." Caked in mud, still wearing a towel like a skirt, teetering with exhaustion, Bill certainly looked like the most miserable camper to ever exist. "I cannot begin to tell you how sick I am of looking at pines."

Ford wondered whether the pun was intentional.

Bill's limbs were weak and uncoordinated. He could twitch his left fingers when asked, but his grip strength was nonexistent and the arm hung limply at his side when he wasn't actively trying to use it. His legs moved, but when he tried to get to his feet he collapsed back into the mud. But he thought he could probably stand with support. He ignored the hand Ford offered and crawled to the nearest tree to lean on as he got to his feet. Ford could see Bill's knees tremble.

"I don't need your help," Bill grumbled. "I can stand fine on my own."

Ford wouldn't argue with Bill's definition of fine. "But can you walk?"

"I could." He couldn't even make the lie convincing.

"Then be my guest."

"I'm saving my strength."

It would almost be funny if he wasn't being such an inconvenience. "Well, you're here and the boat is over there." Ford gestured. The shore was much further away than it had been yesterday. "If you can't walk, then you're either crawling or you're getting help. Which you'd prefer is between you and your dignity."

Bill's face reddened. "Don't talk to me about my dignity, like you've ever cared about my dignity..." He twisted around to inspect the tree behind him, tired gaze looking over the branches—maybe he was planning to break off a walking stick? He attempted to grab a thin branch that wouldn't serve as a walking stick for a toddler. He wasn't strong enough to break it off. He kept trying.

They were never getting to the boat. "Please let me help."

"Go jump in a lake. Again."

How did Ford handle this without prodding at Bill's bruised ego? "Consider it my thanks for—ah..." Ford cleared his throat. "For actually telling the truth about the eclipse. In spite of... what was no doubt immense temptation to lie like a cheap rug. Since we didn't believe you anyway." He had averted his gaze in embarrassment; he forced himself to face Bill like a man. Bill was actually looking at him again. "And for not chucking my gnephew's body off the cliff when you had the opportunity." The bar was so low it was on the ground, and yet it was still impressive that Bill hadn't found a way to dig under it. "And... for saving my life."

Bill set his jaw tight, as if he didn't like being reminded of his moment of decency; but he said, "Fine, get over here." He held out his good arm. "Help your hero and savior limp triumphantly off the field of battle."

When Ford offered his hand, Bill ignored it, and practically snarled when Ford tried to wrap it around his waist for support. Rather than putting his arm over Ford's shoulders, Bill seized a wad of fabric near the collar of Ford's t-shirt as a handhold to hang his weight from. Ford felt less like he was supporting Bill, and more like he'd just gotten in trouble and his father was marching him into the living room by his collar to give him a stern talking-to.

"First time you've ever thanked me for anything I've done for you," Bill muttered. Ford told himself he could drop Bill once they were on the boat.

Dipper was completely zoned out, waiting on the boat staring off in the direction the Axolotl had flown. He didn't react as Bill sat next to him, and Bill didn't acknowledge he existed. Ford started the motor, and they crossed the lake toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle.

####

(You can't imagine how long I've been waiting to post this chapter. Hope you enjoyed, I'd love to hear what you think, and I hope those of y'all who have been waiting for Bill to cry like a baby are satisfied.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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gabessquishytum · 1 month

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Time for some dreamling crack! I apologize for the length, it got out of control. Destiny is done. He's just done, okay? He's had enough of his parents who were never there, siblings who are constantly up to some shit, and his ultra-serious job with no vacations. Moreover, being constantly chained to a book (especially when it's such a huge and heavy book) sucks. So, one day he makes an ultimate decision to go on a holiday into some remote galaxy for a century or two, but first, he needs to complete one task that he actually assigned to himself. Technically, he's not supposed to intervene and all that cosmic bullshit, but he's Destiny, and that's his destiny, pun intended. He's the CEO! The year is 1389. Destiny calls Death and tells her they need to go to Dream asap. She's surprised and slightly worried but obeys without questions. Dream is even more surprised - Destiny normally never visits, so the circumstances must be exceptional. Which they are. Destiny is in no mood for pleasantries and gets straight to the business, informing Dream that he needs to get laid for the common good. Dream bluescreens, and so does Death. 'I beg you pardon?' Dream blinks. Destiny never jokes, and he must have misheard… But Destiny, in his impassive, 100% serious tone, repeats that Dream does need to get laid. To prevent the deaths of thousands of dreamers in the 20th century, to prevent the grudge with hell, to save multiple dreams and nightmares, etc., but ultimately, to save himself from the ill fate. 'All this can be prevented if I get laid?' Dream's metaphorical head is spinning. 'Yes,' Destiny deadpans. 'Okay...' Death interrupts cautiously. 'Why am I here, though?' 'Because he needs to get laid regularly, and there is only one human who can handle this task. He must be made immortal for this reason.'

Dream feels like the Dream.exe file has been irrevocably damaged. 'I need to get laid regularly?' He repeats weakly. 'Brother, you know how important my function is. I have no time for-' 'This is exactly why you meet your doom in all the futures but one.' '…where I'm getting laid?' Destiny nods. Death beams. Dream pales to a previously unexisting shade of white. Without further ado, Destiny takes them all to the White Horse, buys some ale (his vacation mood starts to kick in - he expected more objections from Dream), and nods at one table. 'Robert Gadling. He is the chosen one.' 'Brother, you surely do not want me to lay with a mortal who has fleas and hasn't bathed for Delirium knows how long,' says terrified Dream. 'I surely do. Fleas are the least of your potential problems, little brother.' 'Alright.' Death says. 'Robert Gadling is immortal now. Can I go?' Destiny nods again. Death smiles and, before disappearing, loudly whispers to Dream to invite her to the wedding. Dream glances one last time at his brother and approaches Robert's table. If this is his destiny...and it's for the greater good of the universe and dreamers...Besides, this Robert Gadling is quite handsome - well, unwashed and smelly, but handsome still. Destiny is very pleased. Now, he only needs to sign up Desire for a few millennia of uncancellable therapy, and he can go drink his cocktails in a galaxy far, far away!

I love this, thank you so much for writing it all out. It really made me chuckle.

I'm absolutely obsessed with the idea of Destiny just getting really sick of the universe and all the bullshit that it contains. He's the equivalent of a harassed middle aged working parent attempting to keep everything under control and inevitably watching it all go to shit. He deserves such a good vacation, I hope there's a really good spa in the galaxy he's picked out.

Being the oldest sibling is hard, even when you come from a family of cosmic entities. And honestly? Destiny kind of likes the look of his new human brother-in-law. If this guy can keep Dream from going off the rails then that's wonderful, but the fact that he's cute? Also helps. Destiny may be blind but he is not immune to the Hobpropaganda. He's actually kind of not dreading the next family dinner? He can already see that it's going to run a whole lot smoother with Hob around the table.

But first: bottomless mimosas in a different star system. Bye, losers!

#the sandman #dreamling

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

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Okay, this is my headcanon! But I think Leon needs a REGULAR civilian girl. I have nothing against Ada (I love that woman) but with Leon you can hit me a dozen times, I can't see her. Their relationship, in my understanding, is toxic. Leon is clearly tired of playing cat and mouse with Ada.

So, my main (and favorite) headcanon is that Leon's partner is still younger than him, and is a student at the College of Arts and Culture. Perhaps she knows how to play the piano or some ancient instrument (the lute? guitars are for wimps). If she knows how to shoot or Leon himself taught her this. Of course, she does not carry a gun with her, but a gas spray must be! Leon will remind her several times to keep it in her jacket pocket.

Her gun always pulls a bit to the left. But in reality it is not, she just shoots askew. But playfully blames Leon.

Leon teaches her how to properly hold a weapon, reload it, but sincerely hopes that this will never come in handy for her. (Besides, I'm just sure that Leon will definitely praise her if she hits the target. It can be nice words or a gentle kiss on the back of the head).

Fluffy Leon. He is very gentle with her, flirts a lot, sometimes even too much. Sometimes he says various smut, only to deliberately embarrass her. But he likes it when she starts to play along, although he likes reddening cheeks from embarrassment more. And no, Leon will not tell her about his work until the last. He does not want to endanger a dear person. Relations with him are also not easy, because Leon is a very reserved person: he is ready to lend a helping hand, but hates to accept it. So it's hard to know what's on his mind. And all if you knock on his "shell" a little, I'm sure that Mr. Kennedy would allow himself to be comforted by insignificant signs of attention. In addition, it certainly relaxes him, as his beloved talks about some historical person.

“Do you know Anne Boleyn? I recently read Alison Weir, "Anne Boleyn, a king’s obsession. Henry VII is just a big pig! He wanted a son, but in the end, his daughter became the Great Queen anyway! He didn't deserve any of his wives."

Leon is unlikely to listen carefully if he has just returned from a mission. Most of the time he will disappear into the bar emptying the stocks of whiskey, but if his mental state is stable, then he is really interested, but not always...

She is literally his sunshine! Unfortunately, when Leon is drunk, he can rudely push away (not physically. Raising a hand to his beloved is beyond impossible for him). He will definitely apologize the next morning, but will feel like a bastard for having snapped at his love. Even if she forgives him.

Tries to fix a mistake. A gift or help around the house... Leon understands that it's hard with him, understands that she can find another good guy, and he will let her go without problems, considering himself not the best option for her. Yes, it will hurt him, but if it's for the best, he'll understand. True, leaving him will be accompanied by another hard drinking.

"I don’t want to leave, but I don’t understand what is happening to you! You are very dear to me, it hurts me to see that you are ruining yourself, Leon!"

The words that at least someone needs him, not as a federal agent, but as a person will break him. Leon would hug her, bury his nose in the crook of her neck, and most likely let himself cry. He's fucking tired of B.O.O, he's always dreamed of having a family and helping people as a cop! His life shouldn't be like this!

Their sex balances on the verge of tenderness and rudeness. I don't think Leon has a fetish for choking, for example. He can grab him by the neck, but he won't squeeze. Suddenly he miscalculates his strength and causes harm ... nevertheless, he still dominates, although Leon is a giver, so he will make sure that his partner gets the highest pleasure from making love to him.

The agent reacts quite calmly when his girlfriend puts her leg on his hip. True, he doesn't like it when she takes up the entire bed, trying to push Kennedy to the floor in his sleep. Sometimes she can be very active in this.

He's fought B.O.O., zombies, and more, but he doesn't always manage to stay on his bed at night. Because this woman prefers to take everything.

The couch is also comfortable.

"Why were you sleeping on the couch?

Leon will come up with some kind of go-ahead, but will not tell the truth

Nothing strange, just a man with the last name of the president lost a bed to his girlfriend.

I think because of the age difference, Leon is afraid to marry his girlfriend. To be more precise, he is afraid that she will become a target for his enemies. If something happened to her through his fault, he would never forgive himself for it. And let the D.S.O shove all the programs to protect the relatives of their agents up their ass (I hope they have such)

If an outbreak of a new virus occurs again, Leon will climb even to hell for his beloved. He's already protected Ashley from the ganado and Las Plagas, so keeping his beloved safe from the new stuff will be a priority for him. Leon is trained to deal with this, but she is not, but this does not mean that she will not hit the zombies with a tire iron or a bat in order to protect herself, but once again she will not stick out from behind Leon's back. But she may have to take a few shots, which is unlikely to kill the zombies.

"You have to shoot right in the head."

"This is my friend! You SHOT my friend! He... he... I could..."

"He's not human anymore."

"HE WAS MY FRIEND! Who gave you the right to kill people?!"

Yeap, she fired first, but...Leon realizes it's just a shock. He didn't tell her anything about where he actually works, so her fear is entirely justified. The gun she found will be in his holster, and he will carefully make his way with her through this shit to leave her in a safe place.

Hit a zombie in the head with a tire iron when he wants to attack Leon from behind? She has courage. Maybe she's not a spy like Ada; she doesn't look like Helena or Claire, but she tries her best to hold on even if she has nightmares afterwards.

Some riddles can be solved faster than Leon. Need to quote Kafka or remember an important historical date? Next to Leon is a walking encyclopedia. Play a couple of chords? Problematic, but not critical.

She is his sunlight... or the light from a flashlight. Leon's lantern broke, so...

"Please don't shine in my eyes, baby." "I'm Sorry."

Leon will have to say goodbye to his leather jacket, but it's a joke, he'll give it to her himself.

They will walk this path together. Most likely, Leon will leave her in a safe place, thinking that she does not need a relationship with him. Most importantly, he saved her life.

-Hey, Mr. John Wick, - Leon turned around in confusion at a face stained with someone else's blood, where a tired smile bloomed. - Will you teach me how to suplex when you get back?

-Better we just take a hot shower together.

- I don't think I'll be going back to college any time soon, so I'll wait for you to come back. And I'm sorry about what I said to you on campus. I probably wouldn't have survived without you. Damn, I'd be torn to pieces.

- I understand.

- We'll talk calmly when it's over, right? I probably didn't know much about you. Will this end, Leon?

- Sure.

He'll be back, really. When he finishes off another bastard who has arranged a new outbreak of the virus.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #original male character #resident evil #resident evil vendetta

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amypihcs · 6 months

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HELLO! Awfully late cause uni, got back home late, let's start with today's story! Watson is going like you-don't-know-what-i-saw

Well, he saw MANY things, but this one beats them all

He FAINTED on OUR HEARTRUG! They looked at each other. tried VERY HARD not to laugh. spat a lung laughing without ROARING with laughter (they will roar when Watson will write the case down and comment aloud to Holmes who WON'T be able to stifle his giggles, lol). Now -giggling- let's help this poor soul

BRANDY! the universal medicine (no, watson, just... no.)

Well, looks like it half works toh

Watson: absolute exhaustion -GLARE AT HOLMES- Maybe just hunger and fatigue Holmes: -angelic face and innocent whistling as he searches the client- (Watson WILL remind Holmes of Doctor Huxtable when he refuses to eat because 'he can't afford energies to digestion')

They're both so competent at the respective jobs! They're the perfect couple! Oh he's back to himself! Good! And he starts rambling as sure as he has the gift of word again. Give that man some milk and biscuits, PLEASE!

Huxtable gets a bit more back to himself and here we start talking business

No doctor, i'm sorry. My husband partner and i are damn busy. Is your case interesting important enough for me to move from A TON OF STUFF TO DO? WAINT, KIDNAPPED CHILD??!

TALK, MAN!

Holmes: Tried to keep it secret uh? - going through his index -Very silly of him! oh god, he has half the alphabet after his name. Mr Half-Alph-Man must be pretty important, uh? Headmaster: IMPORTANT. AND. RICH.

Lol, doctor, you know, right, that Holmes despises rich clients usually? Exp for the way they act

WAIT HOW MUCH DID YOU SAY?? Watson, we could send all our irregulars to university with THAT much money! AND have even less monetary worries than now AND buy that cottage we were talking about! We go, right? -insert watson nodding- Now, TELL US THE FACTS.

Holmes' detectivey senses are tingling. And is thanking god the headmaster TRULY CARES about the boy and is not going to say half truths! Guess Holmes' domestic abuse/messy domestic life traumas senses are also tingling!

Watson drinking his husband's imagine like it's the best hot chocolate ASIDE! Holmes is VERY annoyed by the way the case has been handled! You CAN'T give me such a case! The usual herd of buffalo must have passed already! gr! most DEPLORABLE!

And in fact Holmes is cursing every god he's heard of in his travels. In italian. We're professionals of that. How the HELL do you hope to find this boy now? Does his father even CARE?

A SCENT! FINALLY! A man on a bike disappeared as well! OH DOCTOR, please.

even Watson in our early days could do better than this. Love you Watson, you are MUCH better. Try and lubricate those gears in your head, headmaster, c'mon!

MAKES MORE SENSE, UH?

Well, did he receive anything that could've prompted a flight?

Oh yeah. Father of the year already. Holmes is UNIMPRESSED. (and as daughter of split parents i can say that the sympathies of the child are usually with the parents who behaves REASONABLY in a situation.)

Going over.

Ah, you also know from 'confidential talks.' wow. We'll go as soon as i get my suitcase, you telegraph and tell NOT to say that the Liverpool line has been a total blank. My dearest and myself can still solve something.

Mrs Hudson gets them a picnic basket (i loved that scene from the granada serie. perfect.) and they get to the school.

GASP! LETTER ON THE TABLE! PSST PSST PSST.

Get that man some chamomille, please. He needs it. No need to be this anxious, doctor.

BUT OF COURSE. The duke. He doesn't look like in the pics.

So I, DOCTOR WATSON, will describe him PROPERLY. Oh and the secretary is quite pretty, uh. Yes, Holmes, i love you and you only, but you need to admit he was pretty. (Holmes gets kissed after this-)

W-what? STOP FAULTING THE ONE MAN WHO DID THE RIGHT THING!

It's almost as you wouldn't want the case to be solved, Wilder... Well, languid time for Holmes. I LIKE this case, the air is good and my handsome partner has been pestering em for country air for months. I shall UNDOUBTEDLY take this case. You decide if you help me or i fuck you up!

Poor doctor toh! Luckily the duke has still a brain somewhere there.

Holmes asks some questions and then... last one. the letter!

oh YES, god forbid HiS GrAcE had to lift his noble ass. Of COURSE you posted it, Wilder.

Let's see how this case will go!

#i LOVE the granada episode #i love this story as well!#Holmes wanting to murder rich men is always good #sherlock holmes #letters from watson #john watson #dr watson #victorian husbands

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Note

I WOKE UP JUST IN TIME AAAAA

Can I request the tall boys (Childe, Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya + anyone else you think you wanna add or change (except maybe Childe because I love him)) reacting to you having animal-like features (like ears and tail)

What they would do if by some accident they themselves end up getting animal features (like fox ears and tail for Childe, cat ears and tail for Kaeya or Diluc, dragon features for Zhongli, etc) do they become clingy and display cat behavior of rubbing themselves on you? Something like that aaaa I'm so sorry if this doesn't make sense it's my first time requesting

experiments gone wrong

(eehe these men *cough* zhongli *cough* will be the death of me)

Warning -> sfw, fluff (kissing, character suddenly acquiring animal like features)

Character X GN Reader | anthology

Includes: Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli

As an alchemist, you really should have remembered the most important rule -> don’t leave unmarked bottles out where people can drink them …

So you couldn’t be too surprised by the turn of events that followed

Childe

He went to bed earlier than normal, but you didn’t think anything of it. Perhaps he had a terrible day and just wanted to sleep it off, there wasn’t any reason to pester him about it anyway.

The next morning, you felt him slip out of bed, a yawn falling from his mouth as he made his way toward the bathroom. Turning, you claimed more of the bed and attempted to sleep just a little bit longer. That was until you heard a wild cry and shot up in an instant. You were already partially out of the bed when Childe burst into the room.

He looked at you, you looked at him, and as your eyes drifted from his ears to his tail, you understood his reaction.

“WHAT?” He shouted into the bedroom.

Oh archons, to see him like this … you wished it was easier for you not to think about how adorable he was, but it was impossible. The soft ears that peeked from underneath his hair, the fluffy tail that didn’t know how to stop moving, and the frantic face he gave you were all just perfect

“What happened??” He asked, running back to the mirror before returning his attention to you. Quickly, you made your way to his aid and did your best to calm him.

“I’m not sure, did you do anything strange yesterday?” You pulled his face toward you, cupping your hands against his cheek and running your fingers through his hair.

“Not that I know of … uh, oh! I found this …” He reached for a small bottle on the bathroom counter and handed it to you. Shit.

“Did you drink this??”

“ … yes.”

“CHILDE!” You burst into laughter, knowing it wasn’t the right time but also unable to control yourself. His expression was distressed and worried and, as best as you could, you tried to bring yourself back to calm. “This wasn’t supposed to be consumed …”

“A-am I going to die?”

“No, you’re just going to be, well, this it seems.”

“How long??”

“I don’t know, a few days maybe.” He dropped his head into his hands, his ears drooped and his active tail dropped toward the ground. Wrapping him in your arms, you offered him reassurance while trying not to laugh. “You’re very cute though.”

You caught sight of his tail moving slowly back and forth and added more pressure to your hug.

He found that it wasn’t as bad as he thought, in addition to the extra features, he also was able to gain other advantages - his eyesight was much better in the dark, his sense of smell more keen, his agility top notch

You were sure he had grown attached to them in the short time he had them - so when the option came for him to revert, you were sure it would be a tough decision

Still - to keep him trapped like this, with features that weren’t his own - you didn’t want to be cruel

“Here,” You put the bottle down in front of him. His ears perking up at the item and his fingers reaching to grab it. “All you have to do is drink that and everything should go back to normal.” You said with a slightly wistful tone to your voice. It was somehow sad to think these adorable additions leave would be gone soon.

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“I’m not sure. We will just try again if it doesn’t though.” Quickly, he took the cork from the lid and moved the vial to his lips. His ear twitched as he smelled the concoction. “I’ll miss this.” Resting your head in your hands you watched as he downed the liquid in one go.

“It’s hard for people to take me seriously like this …”

“Did people take you seriously before?” You joked, winking at him.

The next morning, he stirred in bed next to you, his hair brushing against your face and making you wake up before you wanted to. As your eyes adjusted, you instantly recognized what you thought was hair was actually ears and the giddiness of your heart jump-started you awake. It didn’t work -- oh no, guess you’d have to keep trying.

Kaeya

Waking up next to Kaeya was your favorite thing. It was an opportunity for you to be close to him, to witness his relaxed expression, and know that in these moments he trusted you over anyone else.

So, when you woke and found him pressed against you, your hands absentmindedly began to run through his hair, over his shoulders, as you meandered your way into the waking world. There was something soft that flicked against your hand, but you pushed it away. It happened again, confused, mouth turning into a scowl and eyes rudely being pried open, you looked down to see what was making you irritated.

You were wide awake when you saw the cat ears sticking out from Kaeya’s blue hair. They were richly shaded, deep blues with tips of white and perfectly placed on his head. Shifting, you tried to get a better view and the action made him stir.

“Mmm, stop moving.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you steady. Tapping his arm, you tried to get his attention.

“K-Kaeya …”

“What is it?”

“Do you feel okay?” You asked, your voice shaking and hands hovering over his ears.

“I feel perfectly fine, why do you ask?” He kissed your chest before nuzzling back into his place.

“You … you’ve got cat ears.”

He laughed and pushed your comment away. His legs moved under the sheets and you swore you saw something poke out from the bed. “You’re pulling my leg, I didn’t know you could be this funny so early in the morning.”

“I’m not, see.” Stealing his hand you placed it on his head and watched as his fingers ran over the ears which were sticking straight up. When his eyes shot open and his hand began to move faster, pulling, tugging, examining the feature, you tried not to laugh as his confused expression turned into a slight panic. He shot up, his legs moving so he could sit on the bed but winced when he did so. That’s when the both of you saw the tail.

“Hold on, let me get ready, just … don’t freak out.”

You rushed around the room to gather up your items, your gaze continuously falling on the incredibly still, unmoving frame that was Kaeya.

After calling on Albedo to come and offer assistance, only to find that the features would be around for a few days … Kaeya started to get more accustomed to them

He was for sure rattled but bounced back rather quickly - in fact, the features seemed to get him even more attention than he had before and he found that the added bonuses were helpful when he needed them for his knightly tasks

Not to mention it seemed he was more affectionate than normal, and not in the way he normally was, it was more in a … cuddly, interested, curious manner

One evening, you found yourself reading over several books that Albedo had recommended and became rudely distracted when Kaeya pushed his way under your arms and nestled into your lap

“Hey there.” You called down to him, hand dropping to his shoulder as he nuzzled against you.

“Give me attention.”

You laughed at his pouting expression, his lips turned downward and ears twisting to show he could be trusted. “I’m currently trying to figure out how to fix this, I can’t do that if I’m giving you all my attention.” His eye squinted for just a moment before he moved more into your lap and nearly pushed the book in your hands onto the floor. “Kaeya!” The playful laughter that filled his ears was as tantalizing as the drinks he let touch his lips.

“You can figure that out later. How can you possibly resist me right now anyway?” He asked, pushing against you until your back pressed into the couch and his hands weaved their way around your body. His hair tickled your face as he nuzzled into your chest and, even though his hips dug into yours, you didn’t seem to mind the closeness he was trying to find.

“Okay. Fine, I’ll look into it more later.”

“What excellent news.” He practically purred as he slid his way to your neck and let his body rest against you.

Zhongli

It’s been so long since he saw himself with such features - and, to be honest, he didn’t notice them for some time. It wasn’t until you returned and the items in your hands fell to the floor upon seeing him that his attention was captured

“Zh - Zhongli!?” You babbled, making your way to him and not knowing what to rest your eyes on first. Was it the pair of elegantly shaped horns that sprouted between his brown locks of hair? Was it the golden slits in his eyes that reminded you of the reptiles roaming around the rocky paths of Liyue? Or did you look at the scales that decorated his face in such perfect placement?

“Has something transpired?” His expression was one of concern, but also one of disillusionment. Did - did he not notice?

“Are you feeling nostalgic today?”

“Not particularly, what makes you ask?”

“Well … you look kinda like … I mean hold on.” You quickly disappeared down the hallway before returning with a small handheld mirror, one that Zhongli had purchased for you some time ago. Handing it to him, you waited until it started to register on his face the changes to his appearance, and that’s when you noticed the long claws which jutted out from his nail beds.

“Huh, this is peculiar …”

Sitting down across from him, you placed your hands on the table and watched as he examined the reflection of his face. “So you didn’t do this?”

“I must say that I did not, though It is rather pleasant to see …” His voice trailed off and you watched as he fussed with his hair, touched the horns on his head, and opened his mouth to check and see if - yup, he had canines much like a dragon too. That’s when it hit you.

“Did you … drink anything strange?”

The mirror found its place upside down on the table, his glowing eyes shifted to you as he took in your question. You let him think and finally, he gave you his answer. “I do recall there was a strange vial on the counter when I awoke. Ah - my dear, are you unwell?” He asked as your head dropped onto the table.

The strangest thing about Zhongli holding these features was that he seemed … perfect for them and it was becoming quite the problem to hide

You were much too cautious that someone may discover who he really was with these pretty telling additions to his wardrobe, so you asked him to stay home for a while until you could get some answers

He didn’t seem to mind, and when you were finally able to gather up all the items needed to prepare an antidote for his condition, you were finding it very distracting to make the concoction at home

The bubbling liquid warned you it was much too hot and so, with adept fingers, you turned the nobs and burners down so as to not overheat or scald the liquid inside. The aroma that filled your nose was … unpleasant to say the least, and so you finally succumbed to the need to wrap your nose in a clean cloth.

Turning your back to the equipment, you made your way toward the drawer where the rags were kept but when your eyes caught sight of Zhongli standing by the window, you nearly fainted.

He was wearing a robe, the material had slid down one of his arms and rested in the crook of his elbow. It gave you pause and allowed you to see the toned torso which was normally hidden by the layers of clothing he wore on a regular day.

Since he found no need to properly get dressed, he had reserved himself to lounge about in clothes that felt ‘more suitable’ to him, as he explained.

The light from the sun flashed across his chest, laid softly against his face, and illuminated the golden speckles in his hair - you wondered if it was because of the horns, perhaps they were reflecting the light and making him look ethereal in the warmth of the sun. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight as he looked beyond the window, almost as if he was yearning for something far beyond his reach.

“I think I’m nearly done.” You explain, tying the towel around your face and returning, reluctantly, to the concoction behind you.

As you began to spoon out the unnecessary ingredients until you were only left with the pure grade potion, you didn’t notice how he had moved to your side until the small vial was filled.

“Here you -- oh!.” He stood right in front of you. His eyes were dangerous, burning, focused. “I didn’t see … you …” He reached around to the back of your head and skillfully undid the makeshift mask you had created moments ago. When it was off, he took the vial in his hands and placed it onto the counter before returning his attention to you. “Are you … okay?” You asked, tracking the movements of his face as he leaned down toward you.

His lips hovered barely over yours and the closeness of him made your heart flutter. “You are mine, are you not?” His voice rattled your bones from the intensity, it was oppressive and supportive all at the same time.

“Y-yes?”

His lips pressed against the corner of your mouth, “You belong to no one else?”

“No …”

“Good.”

It’s a good thing the instructions never said anything about, ‘consume immediately’ because you were very distracted for some time.

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#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #childe X reader #childe #genshin childe #kayea x reader #kayea #genshin Kayea #Zhongli X reader #zhongli #genshin zhongli

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myreygn · 2 years

Text

n over k equals you going down!

summary: Kuroo and Yaku are studying math and, to put it nicely, it doesn't work all too well. Luckily there are ways and methods to clear your head and Kuroo has just the right idea - whether or not it works out for him is a different story.

an: i'm sorry @heyoitsgenderconfusion your ask disappeared. idk where it went so i just have to tag you and really hope you see this!

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

“Okay, let's try this again.” Kuroo rubs his temples and sighs, then he points at the book right in front of him. “We have these numbers, four and thirteen, and we have this formula. Now we put the numbers in and then we have...?”

“Gosh, Kuroo, I don't know! Repeating the question doesn't change anything!”

“Just look at the example, there's an example right there-”

Yaku groans and bangs his head on the book, effectively crushing Kuroo's hand with his forehead and making him whine in pain. “I. Don't. Know. And I'll never know if you keep going like this!”

“It's not that hard!” Kuroo pushes him away and shakes his maltreated hand while furiously nodding at the exercise. “It's n over k, so it's thirteen over four and that means thirteen faculty divided by four faculty multiplied by thirteen minus four faculty! You just have to put the numbers in the formula!”

“But how am I supposed to know which number belongs to which letter?”

“I told you a million times!”

“Fine,” Yaku cries out, “fine, shut up, we've been doing this for, what, three hours?! I'm taking a break, I'm getting water!” He gets up and stretches out, nudging Kuroo's side with his foot. “Breathe through and hydrate yourself, you're so tense dude!” Kuroo flinches away almost hard enough to faceplant, making Yaku chuckle. “Come on now.”

He hears Kuroo shuffle around behind him as he gets himself something to drink, turning around when his friend enters the kitchen, and sighs. “Thank God, I needed this.”

“You needed this?!” Kuroo splashes water into his own face before he empties his half finished cup of coffee, regardless of the fact that it must be cold by now. “I've been explaining the same problem for thirty minutes and you still don't get it!”

“Well, maybe you're just bad at explaining.”

“Or maybe you're just bad at math!”

“Oh, that's not a good combination.”

“Then maybe you should get someone else to tutor you!”

Yaku smirks. Bantering means that Kuroo is recharging his battery, that's good – seeing him fired up helps himself to regain control as well. He turns around again to put his glass in the sink. “Probably. I'm sure Kai would also actually tutor and not torture me like you do!”

“Oh, you want torture?” Yaku busts into surprised giggles when he feels long, swift fingers scribbling up and down his sides and he leans away from the maddening sensation, over the counter. Unfortunately this attempt to escape just makes everything worse for now he can't even properly protect himself – not that that was an option before. “I'll give you torture!”

“H-hey! Dohon't doho thahahat! Kuroo!”

“I mean, you started it.”

“Whahat? Did not!”

“Yes, you did!” Kuroo shoves his hands further up Yaku's torso to massage the spaces in between his ribs, drawing some of the ugliest cackles the Libero has ever heard from himself. “You attacked me earlier when you nudged my side, you did that on purpose!”

“I-it's not my fahault thahahat you're a wahalking tickle spoAAHT, STOP IT!”

“Why?” Yaku manifests all of his willpower to turn around and immediately regrets it when he's met with Kuroo's obnoxious signature smirk, those awful fingers relentlessly squeezing and jabbing his hips. “Aren't you having fun?”

“FAHAHACK YOUAHAHA!”

“Tsk, language.”

Yaku feels himself getting weaker and weaker the longer the tickling lasts – no wonder, this bastard is attacking his worst spot exactly the way he knows it drives Yaku up the wall. A little voice in his head regrets to ever have agreed to this study session, another one criticizes the very idea of being friends with Kuroo and Yaku hates how he hesitantly agrees. They just know each other too well and... hey, wait, that might be it!

“NAHAHAHA KUHUROHOO! PLEAHEHEHESE!”

The captain slows his touches down and moves his hands up a little. “Please what, Yakkun?”

God, he's going to kill this jerk! Yaku feels his face burn. Please, that's a word he almost never has to resort to and only uses when it's really bad. More often than not he's too proud – but that also means, that Kuroo knows it's bad when he actually pleads and that's a huge opportunity to fool him. The tickling on his sides is bearable. He can function now. Yaku throws him a wicked smirk through his giggling and it turns victorious when he sees the horror dawn on his friend's face.

“Please don't be less ticklish than last week.”

“WhAHAHAHAAA YAHAKU!”

“You know, Tetsurou,” the Libero smirks and wrestles Kuroo down, straddling him and wriggling his fingers in his armpits, “you're really funny. We've known each other for, what, two and a half years? You should really know by now that you don't stand a chance. I don't know if you noticed, but my worst spot isn't half as bad as yours. See?” He coos at his friend. “You're already crying, naw, Tetsu! It's not even been ten seconds!”

It's almost funny how Kuroo is a mess already, yet the teasing still seems to make everything so much worse. Yaku grins. He can't deny it, he's always having a blast wrecking Kuroo, especially when- ah, there it is.

“NYAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAP!”

“I don't know, should I? We barely get to hear this beautiful, beautiful hyena laugh from you, we should enjoy it while it lasts!”

Honestly, it's impressive how long Kuroo takes it. They're almost at four minutes before his laughter goes silent and Yaku decides to move away from his underarms, resorting to softly scribbling all over his stomach. “So, will you teach me this math problem?”

“I- Ihi trihied!”

“Yeah, well, as you said, I'm bad at math. Will you try some more?”

Kuroo can only nod, his face flushed bright red and his cheeks wet from laughing tears.

“Good.” Yaku finally stops his tickling and stands up, offering his friend a hand to get up. “Let's get back to work. And remember, when you think about starting a tickle fight the next time, don't. You'll lose. Got it?”

“Shut up...”

“You shut up.”

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou #yaku morisuke #tword fic #ticklish!yaku #ticklish!kuroo #lee!yaku #lee!kuroo #ler!kuroo #ler!yaku #tword fight #rey writes

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padfootagain · 3 years

Text

The Adviser

Hey! I'm writing this little fic for @musicallisto's event! I'm using her prompts 4 and 29 for Caspian :

4. “Can you stay with me?”

29.“Their hands on your skin…”

I'm also including a bit of the drunken confessions trope for this one!

I hope you all like it, tell me what you think about it, and thank you again Clara for hosting this event! This is just pure fluff, you know me, it's soft hours time!!!! We love cute clichés here!

Pairing : Caspian x reader

Word Count: 3597 (I've proofread but I've been writing for four hours and my brain is fried, I am so sorry if there are more mistakes than usual, forgiiiiiive meeeeee!!!)

You shouldn't have been drinking like this. Deep down, you knew it was a mistake. But what choice did you have? It was the only way to forget what this princess what doing at that moment.

Her hand was on Caspian's arm, and you didn't fail to notice the way her fingers slipped down the length of his velvet sleeve to brush against the skin of his wrist. You took another large gulp of liquor, but the image was already printed all over your eyelids when you closed your eyes and tried to blink the sight away.

It was more than you could stand. So much more than what you were humanly able to stomach. And the worst part of it all, really, was that none of this was Caspian's fault. He didn't even know about how you felt for him, so how could he have guessed that him letting her touch him like this, being so close to him, were hurting so.

But it did hurt. God, it hurt so bad.

The room was full of noises and conversations. You were celebrating the signing of a new commercial agreement between Narnia and their neighbours. It was exciting, and all the politicians that had been involved in the elaboration of the treaty and its negotiations were now enjoying a much-deserved celebration. The treaty had been signed earlier in the afternoon, and hopefully it was the first step towards a friendship between the two nations.

And you should have been celebrating as well, because after all, this treaty was your baby. You had written parts of it, you had worked for months to convince lords that this treaty was a good thing. You had worked and worked relentlessly for so long on this project. It was your baby, in a way.

When you had begun this adventure, you had envisioned yourself in the position you were finally in now. With a signed treaty resting on the king's desk in his study, and surrounded by lords, princesses and other important political figures, drinking wine and eating pastries and laughing as the future seemed a little brighter than it was before.

What you had never imagined though, was that during the months you had spent working closely with the King of Narnia, you would fall madly, desperately, hopelessly in love with him.

You wanted to slap some sense into your own head for falling for him the way you had, but it would be useless. There was nothing you could have done to avoid it. And every time you looked at him, you were reminded of this cruel truth. Nothing could have prevented you from falling in love with the king, not even yourself, not even him. Nothing, no one, could save you now.

Sometimes, it was driving you mad, really. The way he was so kind, and a little shy around you. You forgot that he was even a king, then. He had a way to make you feel safe by simply smiling at you. There was something in the way he walked, in the way he held himself, that would have betrayed his rank if he had tried to hide it. He was so… inspiring, in a way. More than that, he was magnetic. When he walked into a room, it was clear who he was. A mere glimpse at him, and even if one had no idea what the King of Narnia looked like, they would have recognized him. But then he would blush in the most precious way when complimented, bending his head as if to hide his reaction, and there was so much hesitation in his polite smiles, as if he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Maybe it was that contrast that had make your heart melt. The way he was the most charismatic man when you saw him, and the kindest when you talked to him.

Yes, yes, that was it. Or at least, part of it. Maybe it was the starting point of it all. Then, every single detail that made him unique had sealed the deal, and your heart was his, for good.

At the end of the day, though, no matter how much you loved him and how friendly and kind he was to you, he was still the King, and you were merely a representative. There was nothing special about your ancestry, even if your position now was quite high in the government. But you were one of the King's advisors, that was all, and every time you looked at one of these princesses throwing all their charms and manners at Caspian, you really couldn't hold it against him to fall for them and not you.

If he had known these inner thoughts of yours, he would have been adamant at contradicting you, at telling you that you were just as special as they were. But he was busy talking to one of them, and you were busy drinking. It ought to be the way things were meant to be, right?

After a couple more glasses of wine, your head was starting to spin and Caspian seemed to finally notice that something was off with you. He frowned hard as he saw you reaching for the nearest wall to keep your balance, while you lifted your glass to your lips again. You finished all the alcohol in one gulp. It wasn't like you though, to drink like this…

At first, he thought maybe you were simply letting loose more than usual in celebration for the treaty, but you didn't seem happy at all. On the contrary, your features were twisted in one of pain. Were you sick? A wave of fear rushed to his heart, crushing the little organ in his chest. He hurried to excuse himself and leave the princess he had been talking to. He was aware it was barely polite, but if you were unwell, he didn't exactly care about the etiquette. In fact, all his thoughts were set upon you and his worry now, he couldn't even realize what he was doing as he crossed the room in just a few long strides, ignoring people in the crowd trying to intercept him as he passed by.

You hadn't noticed him approaching, you had settled your attention on the marble ground, in an attempt to avoid seeing Caspian talk with the flirty princess that had been clinging to him for the past hour. Only when his brown boots appeared on the floor right before you did you notice his presence. You looked up in a jolt, your hair growing with fear and apprehension, while your quick movement made your head spin even more than before.

"Your Majesty," you mumbled, trying to stand a little straighter. "Can I… do anything for you?"

Your words were slurred, obvious sign of your intoxication. Caspian's frown only deepened.

"I was about to ask you the same question, you don't seem to be well," the king answered.

"I… I am perfectly fine," you lied.

"You seem to need a bit of fresh air," Caspian insisted. "Let me accompany you to the gardens."

You didn't have the strength to fight against him or argue in any way. Besides, Caspian was right, you did need a bit of fresh air to clear your mind. So you let him take your arm, assuring your balance, while he guided you outside.

The afternoon was slowly dying out into the early evening. The sun was still quite high in the summer sky, but the heat it released had diminished as the hours passed by. A salty breeze was blowing through the roses in full blossoms and the branches of the tall oaks that offered their shades to the visitors. It was quiet though, most of the inhabitants of the castle being either busy with their daily tasks, or at the reception. It was an easy task for Caspian to find a quiet spot for the two of you to walk by.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, noticing your steps were a little steadier, even if he still kept a careful hold on your arm, just in case.

"I did need a bit of air, indeed. Thank you. I feel better," you nodded.

You tried to give him a smile, but it was harder to hide your feelings when you were drunk. It seemed more like a wince, instead, and Caspian fully turned to you this time, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the narrow path in between the bushes of roses. He remained silent for a while, the noises of the wind in branches and the bees buzzing in the flowers the only sounds you could hear. And in this quiet place, staring right into the king's dark eyes was even more hypnotizing than usual. You were suddenly very aware that the two of you were alone. And very aware that his hand still rested on your arm too…

"Are you sick? What is wrong?"

Under his insisting tone, you recognized worry. If Caspian had tried to hide it, he had failed miserably.

"I… am quite fine. I think I simply celebrated a little too much…"

"You seemed sad back there," the king shook his head, cutting you off because you could finish your lie. "You did not seem to be celebrating at all. Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. I guess… I must be very tired. The negotiations were difficult and…"

"Why are you lying to me?"

You merely stared at him, not knowing what to answer.

"I know you are lying. I know you. Why will you not tell me what is bothering you?"

"It… is nothing…"

"Is it why you drank too much?"

"I am not drunk…"

"Yes, you are. You can barely stand."

"I can," you replied, even if it wasn't true. You knew that if Caspian suddenly let go of you, you would probably fall down in the roses, and the thought of the many thorns cutting your skin wasn't particularly appealing to you.

Caspian's frown slowly disappeared though. From worry, his expression changed to one of sadness and hurt, but you didn't understand why.

"I am your friend, Y/N. Why will you not tell me? I could help…"

You let out a bitter laugh. The liquor was taking the better of your judgement, for you would have never answered him this way had you been sober.

"My friend? As if we were friends…"

Caspian stared at you with the most puzzled expression you had ever seen adorning his handsome features.

"What do you mean? Of course, we are friends."

"We are not friends. You are the king, and I am… a commoner working for you."

There was so much hurt passing through Caspian's eyes, but you didn't feel guilty. It was true, after all. And the sight of this woman with him… with her eyes all over him, and the way she leaned towards him…

It was more than you could take…

"I thought we were more than just that by now," Caspian answered in a low voice.

"How could we be?"

"Why did you drink so much tonight?"

"Because I cannot take it anymore… I… these feelings I just… I can't fight them…"

"Feelings? What…?"

But then it dawned on him, only, not completely.

Of course, a question of heart would explain your sadness and your drinking tonight, such behaviours that were so out of character for you. He wasn't particularly good at hiding the way his heart broke in his chest at the thought that you loved someone else, though. He had to be thankful for your inebriated state that made you fail to notice his reaction when it was written all over his features.

He opened his mouth to ask who this was about, but you spoke first. The wine was making your mind blurry, your thoughts turning into a whirlwind, bumping into each other and making your usual filters lift. In any other circumstances, you would have never said any of the words you were about to utter, but then, liquor and broken hearts make confessions tumble easily.

"I cannot do this anymore. I want to resign."

"Resign? What…?"

"I cannot handle it. Being around you all the time…" you went on, barely realizing Caspian was trying to speak. "And today seeing her… her hands on your skin and…"

Your voice broke, and you lost your balance for good. Caspian was still here though, and he managed to catch you in his arms right before you would fall to the dusty ground.

His brain was repeating again and again your words, trying to analyse their meanings…

Did it mean that… you… was it about him, then?

"I will take you to your room. You need to rest. Come on…"

With the gentlest gestures, he guided you back inside and to your room, crossing empty corridors and avoiding people as much as he could. No one else but him needed to see you like this.

He helped you settle in bed, and only then did he notice that you were crying.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

He brushed your tears away. He had never touched you this way before, and it made his heart pound in his chest like it had never before. He let his fingers linger a little longer on your cheek.

"You must rest. We will talk about this in the morning."

He gave you a warm smile before turning away, but you held him back, catching his wrist before he could walk too far away. He turned to you again with a puzzled look.

"Can you stay with me?"

Your voice was barely more than a whisper, uncertain and fragile. He was used to hearing it loud and confident while you discussed amongst politicians and advisers, it was such a drastic change, it scared him. It was evident you needed someone to take care of you at that moment, and Caspian wouldn't have let anyone else do it in his stead.

He should have gone back to the reception, but how could he leave your side now?

So, he dragged a chair next to your bed, and sat down, offering you a reassuring smile. He held your hand in his, giving it a soothing squeeze.

"As you wish. But you need to sleep now."

"Are you angry?"

"No, I am not. We will talk about it tomorrow. Now, you need to sleep. Close your eyes."

You did as ordered, and fell asleep as soon as your eyelids had fallen. The warmth of Caspian's hand on yours was the last thing you remembered before surrendering to slumber.

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

Your headache wasn't the worst thing that happened when you woke up. Nor was your nausea, or the disgusting taste that lingered on your tongue. No, the worst part of waking up was the note you found folded by the side of your bed.

Caspian would be waiting to see you in his office.

If parts of the previous day were a little blurry, you still remembered perfectly your conversations with the King.

He would ask you to resign. Or he might even fire you altogether. He could have asked you already for someone to pick up your things and carry them out of the castle… but then, Caspian was a kind man, and you weren't altogether surprised when you picked up an outfit to dress up and found all your belongings exactly where they belonged.

After your behaviour, there was no other alternative. You had been disrespectful, and you highly doubted that the king would appreciate working with someone who had romantic feelings for him.

But your pride made you decide that you would resign first. You would not let him throw you out of the castle. If you had to leave, which was painful enough already, never to see the man you loved again, then at the very least, you could be spared the humiliation of being pushed away. At least, you would be the one leaving.

You made your way to his office, at last. Taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. Your heart missing a beat when you heard Caspian's low voice answering on the other side. You walked in.

Caspian welcomed you with a smile, he was sitting at his desk, his back to the stained-glass windows that painted colours all across the room. The light coming from behind him made the image ethereal, a vision you could have summoned in one of your dreams…

"Good morning, Y/N. Please, take a sit," he invited you. "Are you feeling better?"

You struggled to swallow, cleared your voice. His voice made butterflies tickle your belly, but you ignored the feeling. You ignored how much you wanted to comply and approach him. This was not the time. Now was the time to be strong.

You remained at a safe distance from his desk, refusing to sit down.

"Your Majesty," you tried to keep your voice steady, but couldn't help the slight shake that accompanied your words. "I am well, thank you."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted him, raising your hand to silence him.

"Please, your Majesty… let me speak."

He nodded, letting you continue. You took a deep breath, and finally gathered the strength you needed to speak again.

"I…My behaviour yesterday was… unforgiveable. And I am aware that I have crossed a line. What transpired last night is the proof that I can no longer work for you and serve Narnia at the best of my abilities as your adviser anymore. It is why I would like to resign. I would be very thankful if you would agree to allow me to stay in the castle for one last week, to allow me to look for a new home. My resignation will be effective immediately, and I can write it down, if you want me to."

Caspian remained silent for a moment, before slowly standing up, and walking towards you. His hands behind his back, he only stopped when he was but one step away from you. You stared at him, waiting for his reaction, completely motionless.

"I agree that… your confessions from last night make it impossible for us to continue like this. Things cannot remain the same now."

You fought with all your might to refrain your tears, that merely gather at the corner of your eyes, but didn't fall. You didn't flinch, nor did you back away though.

"I do think that you need to resign from your position in our government. I would not be… proper… to have my advisor be…"

"I will inform the rest of the staff immediately," you interrupted him. Which was incredibly rude, interrupting the king… but you couldn't take it. You couldn't stomach the pain that it would make you feel to hear him say the words he was about to utter.

It was enough that he didn't love you. You didn't need him to say it out loud.

You turned on your heels, but Caspian didn't let you step away. He caught your wrist before you could move away, and you turned back towards him, your eyes growing in surprise.

"I have not dismissed you, yet," he told you, quirking an eyebrow.

"I apologize, your Majesty."

Caspian gave you a smile. You wondered what was worth smiling for though.

"I thought we had agreed that there was no need to call me this way when we are alone."

"Things have changed."

"Not nearly enough, yet."

It was your time to frown.

"There is no need for you to move out of the Castle."

"But I…"

"Would you like to take a walk in the gardens with me this afternoon?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, completely confused.

"I… don't understand…"

"Did you mean what you said? Yesterday? Or did I not understand you right? I thought you said you had feelings for me."

You nodded, unable to answer, fleeing Caspian's gaze.

"I did… but…"

"Well, I am asking you if you would like to take a walk with me this afternoon."

"But I… why?"

His smile grew fonder, and you noticed the way his fingertips were shaking when he reached to hold your other hand.

"I… was hoping you would… like to spend some time with me," Caspian added, hesitant this time, a little shy, pinker shades appearing to colour his cheeks. "Not as my advisor but… as… a friend…"

"A friend?" you repeated, stunned.

"Or well… maybe… maybe more than a friend."

"But I… I am…"

"I feel the same way."

He had said the last sentence as fast as he could, forcing the words out like he would have pulled an arrow out of a wound. In one, quick motion, before the strength and courage would fail him.

Your mouth fell open.

"You… you do?" you stuttered, out of breath for some reason. You only just then noticed that you seemed to have forgotten how to breathe altogether.

"I do. And well… I am afraid that you need to resign, for it would be impossible for me to court one of my advisors. But as you have done so, I thought… what about a walk?"

There were a thousand thoughts swarming in your head, and most of them were going against Caspian's idea. Most of them told you this was impossible.

But you chose to simply ignore all of them, and answer what your heart was desperately begging you to say instead.

"Yes. Yes, a walk would be lovely."

#caspian #caspian x y/n #king caspian x reader #caspian x reader #caspian x you #king caspian #narnia #caspian fanfiction #caspian fanfic #caspian imagine #narnia imagine #narnia fanfic #narnia fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #writing challenge

232 notes · View notes

sor-vette · 2 years

Note

Hello Darja! First and more important, I hope you're doing great, hope you're feeling content and nice <3

NOW, is there a limit to the prompts we can use? If not, I'd love one with Jae and the reader, (because miss him and need more interactions with her) using these: “You always make that face when you’ve done something wrong, so what did you do? / “I can’t be mad at you.” / “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

You haven't even written it yet, but I already know I'm going to love it because I enjoy everything you do hahaha

Hello, hello! Good to hear from you! I've got a couple of days free so I am happy rn :) I originally had planned, one prompt per request but eh, let's do multiple :) hope you don't mind that I used your ask as the base format for the drabble :? I'm not quite sure how many people will enjoy this, because it's mostly two OC's....and therefore extremely specified but Jae deserves some love so here it goes :)) hope it's to your liking ♡

Racoons in the Office

• type: Jae x reader (+Jin x reader) • w/c: 1.5k

• part of: "Life of 27" drabble series set in "The Curious Move-In to Apartment 27"

• set: right after "On Middle Grounds"

• tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @introlxv (sorry, babes, I'm going to annoy you forever)

a/n: when you see a bunch of text written without spaces it means Jae is nagging really, really fast

You sip the fermented drink with a long and cautious face, puke a little bit in your mouth and then melt into the desk. There's not a place that doesn't hurt.

"I said have a good evening not get a liver failure," Jae grumbles, running all over the office. It's empty and quiet on Saturday afternoon. A space for you both to work in peace or vomit in peace as was the case today.

"It was a drinking game..." you try to explain lamely but once Jae has launched into mother hen mode which is scarily reminiscent of Jin though more softly spoken, there's no stopping him.

"How old are you? Two years senior and you bow to peer pressure! Why did you keep drinking? Stop drinking! There's water, should have drunk that!"

"Many people-"

"There's water!" Jae insists, fetching a pillow (?) and tucking it underneath your throbbing temples. You only left the safety of the apartment because once the guys got the wind of Mark, who was he and what happened, the worry had exploded, nearly lopping your head with it. Who would have guessed the same tirade would continue here.

"Yes but-"

"alcoholisnotgoodforyourhealth-"

"Okay."

"andyoushouldbemoremindfulofyourhealthyou'vegotsomanypeoplewhocareforyou-"

"Okay."

"Are you even listening to me?"

You raise your head and for the first time and squint in his general direction. Jae was standing in the light of the torturous sun, one hand on his hip and worried expression etched deep into his otherwise youthful face. Your eyes drift downward, to the truly horrendous Moomin sweater he had adorned.

"Don't be mad at me," is all you ask.

Jae sighs.

"I can't be mad at you," he pouts. "It is a scientific impossibility. But really is it that hard to drink in moderation?"

"You snort in a coffee with eight shots of espresso," you remind him sagely, tucking your head away back into the shadows and Jae becomes but an omnipresent, nagging voice drifting endlessly like a horde of mosquitos.

That puts a halter in his mouth if but for a second.

"Yes, but that's me! Who cares about me?"

"I do," you narrow him down. "I care. Besides which what are you even doing here?"

He blushes.

"Nothing."

He's not even red. More like...purple. Eyes shifting left and right, while his legs bounce around with anxiety he appears very much like a puppy caught in front of a chewed slipper, hoping that if he won't make eye contact, it will all disappear.

"You're making the face."

"What face?" he gives you the widest, most scandalized eyes in the universe.

"The face," you clarify with emphasis. It helps exactly no one. "You always make that face when you’ve done something wrong, so what did you do?"

"It's not that it's wrong...." he laughs nervously wringing his hands and then slumps forward. "I wanted to tell HR that it was me who got Erik mad so they wouldn't write a note in your ledger."

You snort.

"A note. What do you think it is - a school?" Laughing was a no-go. It made you only sicker. "Also you're doing no such thing."

He splutters with indignance.

"I will," when you flinch he lowers his tone to a whisper once again. "Yes, I will do it. Don't even try to stop me."

"You have already been stopped," you whine. "You're under my protection, that's one. I have beef with everyone here, that's two. I've given up on my career, that's three. So all in all, they pencil this incident into already my known reputation of being an outcast and we're done. Besides, if not for Eric's little outburst we wouldn't have our own office."

Jae tugs your head upwards, pressing a bottle of water to your lips. Though it feels slightly insulting as though you're a frail Victorian patient dying of tuberculosis, the water is cool and fresh and soothes the horrible scratching in your throat.

"What office?" he asks, once you're done.

"Our own office," you slump into the chair, shivering slightly. Never mind never drinking again, you won't even look at alcohol ever again. You'll promise pretty please on any deities shrine to be forever obedient if this nausea would cease. "Others are making you uncomfortable, so I fired up a bunch of e-mails and they allowed us to use the folder room."

You avoid telling the slight detail that 99% of that success lied in the fact that no one wanted to be even in a five-meter radius of Jae launching into one of his long rants, hence granting the proposal of isolation a rather widespread approval. He didn't need to know that.

"...it's a cupboard," Jae faintly remarks and you would shrug if not for the fear of projectile vomiting all over this carpet. It'd be a bitch to clean.

"Tomato, tomato," you reply casually but then the sound of crying forces you to focus. Jae was standing, water bottle in hand with what was clearly light tears running down his cheeks.

"No...please, don't cry," you try to comfort him lamely but you're also rooted to the spot. And extremely awkward.

"People always have wanted something from me," he wiped at his face. "So this has been the first case of someone...picking on me. I've never been forced to hear someone say shit about my ADHD."

He was probably upset that you did this - treat him as a kid in need of saving. You messed up again.

"Jae, I-"

"Thank you!"

Thank you?

He runs to your chair and practically tries to meld his body into yours, enveloping you in a jittery hug. You clamp your jaw shut to avoid any incidents.

"Thank you so much. I can't believe you did this for me," he chokes.

"Did what?" Jin's voice suddenly asks. He looks just as green as you, swaying from left to right. It was even a surprise he was able to stand up. Jae immediately unwraps himself.

"We're going to get our own space," you explain warily. You hope they won't find but it's a loser's expectancy at this point. At least it wasn't Namjoon. You were only half confident to say that he wouldn't just chuck Jae out of the window should he run his mouth too much. And run he did.

"You, guys," he points at Jin accusingly. "You care for her right? What kind of men are you to allow her to drink herself to this state?! No, gentlemen, thissimplywillnotdo.doyoualsoallowhertosleepwithanopenwindow?shecomesinsnifflingeverytwodaysandthisisnotthetimetocatchacold,isaidno,notooverdrinkingnotosleepingwithanopenwindownotohavingacold!healthispreciousyouknow-"

Jin's eyes are hidden behind hefty sunglasses but despite it, the scowl is quite visible.

"Child -"

"CHILD?!"

"- me...I'm too sick to listen...to listen you. Honey?"

In your weak state, you don't even bat an eyelash at the term.

"Yeah?"

"Let's go home."

Home. That does sound wonderful. But if the saying was right then home was not a place, it was people. And home meant both the arrangement of clownery that was BTS and very much a strange coloured Moomin that was Jae. Quite the dwelling that was.

"You know I care for you," you glance at Jin and he nods, briefly touching his stomach as if barely not hurling. "And I also care for Jae. So, please, if you could just tolerate each other, that would make me happy."

Though they don't admit this to you, your happiness was their main and common priority and as such when the taxi arrives to take you home, guided by Jin's embrace, Jae is also there. You'll have to come clean about Mark. Not later, in a distant, unreachable future, but right now and to everyone. But somehow it feels less scary. Despite still throwing daggers at each other, Jae and Jin remain passive, one belting off the taxi driver's ear about safe and steady driving and one, pressing chaste, comforting kisses to your forehead. Jin's fingers trace small circles on the small of your back and you fall prey to their trance, nuzzling boneless into his neck.

"You're going to be okay," he mutters and you can't differentiate whether he means it physically as in you're going to survive this car ride, or emotionally - that you could tell them the truth and won't be judged for it. "Everything's going... okay."

"Just don't bully Jae, okay," you plead, soft and pathetic and Jin's heart bleeds. "He's my friend."

Jin side-glances at the blue-haired weirdo. He may not like the kid but he did care for you and, to Jin, that was an agreeable quality.

"We won't bully him" he promises, biting away the ending of "too much".

When Jae, Jin and you slide out of the taxi, all green-tinted and wobbly, you turn to look back at him. Namjoon stands in the window like some sort of ominous giant. Jae's lips press into a thin line at the sight but he quickly wipes it away.

"You know, I can't believe you're doing this for me," you echo his words with a faint smile as Jimin rushes out to help you up the stairs. Now you definitely feel like a frail Victorian patient dying of tuberculosis.

"The things I do for my best friend," he grumbles miserably.

#jin x reader #bts drabble #jin x you #jin x y/n #bts poly au #ot7 x reader #ot7 x you #ot7 x y/n

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bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Flowers and Vinyls

Summary: You and Porco are neighbours. You also despise each other. Pairing: Porco Galliard x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings & Content: language, softdom!Porco, softsub!Reader, thigh riding, unprotected sex, spanking, oral sex (male receiving), alcohol abuse, enemies to lovers Word Count: 2.2 k

A/N: Porco deserves some love, too! I also really wanna give Connie some love, too.

You hated him, you loathed him.

To you, Porco was the most insufferable person to ever walk on this earth, strutting his pushed back hair, with his stupid undercut and his silly little upturned nose. You wanted to gouge his eyes out, but that would only land you some time in jail. He was your next-door neighbour both in terms of accommodation, and in terms of work. You owned a small flower shop at the ground floor of your townhouse, he owned a record store placed strategically wall-to-wall with yours — naturally he lived above it. Marcel, Porco's brother, was seemingly a nicer person, but he wasn't always there when you needed him to shut his little brother's mouth — or music. Not only were you two bickering like petty children, you were also complete opposites — he was edgy and brash, you were dainty and solemn. He always wore dark colours, you were dressed in pastels. And to make matters worse, he was best friends with your best friend!

Pieck was completely oblivious to the fact that you two hated each other, both bitching to her, unaware of the other's complaints. She always told you, separately, that perhaps you just need to get laid with one another and get over it. Impossible, for you despised each other. And when Pieck invited you to a small party at her place, you were not expecting to see Porco there. At first, you wanted to turn around and leave, but your friend talked you into staying, promising that Porco was actually a good guy, and that you didn't know him well enough. Oh, how wrong she was. He was evil incarnate, he vandalised your shop after you called the cops on him. Nonetheless, you stayed at her party, opting to spend some time with Reiner and Colt, avoiding Porco at all costs, because if looks could kill, his would smite you.

What you didn't know was that a conflict was taking place inside his tipsy brain — should he kill you or fuck you? Despite your differences, Porco couldn't deny that you were a very alluring woman, hips swaying every time you walked and an ass that could raise the dead. And he saw Colt glancing at that ass, prompting him to drink some more. On the other side of the room, you told Pieck all about how your date stood you up and you were quite sad, opting to drown the empty feeling in your chest with cheap vodka and tequila, and that combination did a number on you. You weren't shitfaced by any means, just drunk enough to feel the music better, taste the liquor better, smell Porco's perfume better whenever he walked past you. God, he intoxicated you more than the alcohol could, and you were beginning to wonder if Pieck was right — maybe you didn't hate him, maybe you needed to fuck him, relieve the sexual tension. But how? What if he did hate you and you'd only make a fool of yourself? The questions were grinding your gears and no amount of tequila could help you get them out of your system. You settled on ignoring them.

"We're gonna split a cab." Porco explained, a bored, inexpensive look on his face.

"Hey, 'm not poor, aight? I can afford a f-fuckin' taxi." You poked his chest with your index finger while losing your balance and falling into his arms. He quickly released you once you regained control of your legs, his eyes drifting elsewhere, crimson creeping to his cheeks.

"We literally live next to each other, but if you wanna go all by yourself, fine!"

"I haaaaate you, Pokko, d'you know? I especially hate that cute nose! Boop!"

He was so done with your attitude, your gestures, your voice, his brows furrowed and lips pursed. But Pieck really wanted to make sure you got home safe, and Porco didn't want to disappoint his friend by letting you loose in a stranger's car, especially since you were drunk and vulnerable. He was an asshole, but he wasn't that bad. Not that you could realise that, anyway.

"Just get in the car, Y/N." He rolled his eyes and opened the door once the yellow taxi pulled over. You stopped between him and the car, nose and cheeks pink from the alcohol, and leaned closer to his face.

"D'you also know I really, really wanna ride you?" You whispered in his ear before stumbling inside the cab, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Ah! Evening, mister!"

"Jesus Christ..."

The entire way home you drove Porco insane with little touches, whispers, obscene proposals. He could feel his cock twitching in his pants but he didn't want to take advantage of you. Yet the more you looked at him with hunger in your eyes, the more he couldn't think rationally — he, too, was drunk, after all. When you got out of the car you almost fell face first, but luckily, he caught you, your hand accidentally brushing his thigh in the process. God, he hated you.

"Come inside!" You looped an arm around his neck for better balance. "I gotta give you your money b-back."

"It's fine."

"No, no, I insist."

"You're so annoying, you know that?" Porco walked with you, perfectly aware of how much he'd regret this night.

"Close the door behind youuuu!" You kicked your shoes off and grabbed the collar of his leather jacket, practically dragging him through the hallway, into the living room. "Sit!"

He could say no. He could just walk out. But he didn't want to. Not anymore.

You rummaged through a drawer looking for some cash, taking your sweet time to do it. The way you were bent over, the tight skirt revealing just an inch of your red panties, sent Porco down a rabbit hole of dirty thoughts. Every gesture, every word uttered so nonchalantly by you made you both forget the turf war you both started, the atmosphere slowly becoming more intimate and sensual. You swayed your hips from side to side, opening another drawer and digging through the clutter.

"Hey, Pokko? Do you think 'm pretty?"

The question caught him off guard as you turned around, no money in your hands. He raised his gaze from your skirt to your eyes, frantically nodding his head.

"Yeah."

"Then why did I get stood up?" You pouted, walking to the couch. Porco swallowed hard when you took a seat on his thigh, his fingers digging into the sofa. "If 'm pretty, why don't men want me?" Your hands rested on his shoulders as your hips slowly rocked back and forth.

"I- I don't know." He pursed his lips, unaware of what to do. Usually, he wouldn't have any issues with situations like this. But it was different this time because he really wanted to shut your srupid mouth up — or maybe Pieck was right and all he needed to do was fuck you.

"Do you want me?" You asked, head tilted, movement stopping.

"God, yes." Porco grabbed your nape and pulled you into a sloppy kiss, his other hand desperately tugging at your tank top strap. You could feel your panties dampening under his rough touch and hot kiss, your hands removing his jacket as quickly as possible. "I'm gonna fuck you on that table first." He picked you up and slammed your ass on the dining table, earning a moan out of you. "Then we'll take it to the bedroom." Porco removed his shirt while you pulled your underwear down.

"Fuck me wherever you want, just fuck me!" You begged, legs spread and lust in your eyes.

"Shit, I knew you were a little slut under all that soft girl crap." He unzipped his jeans, letting them fall to the ground while he pulled his cock out. You took a good look at it, teeth digging into your lower lip.

"Aren't you gonna finger me first?"

"You didn't do anything to deserve it. But I'm in a good mood." Porco sneered before he spat on your wet cunt. The disgusting gesture made you purr like a kitten, proving him more that you were indeed a filthy whore. He dragged the tip of his cock up and down your slit, slowly pushing it between your folds as you threw your head back in pleasure. "Fuuuck, you're so tight, so wet."

"Oh my God, go deeper! Please!" You pleaded, voice low and seductive.

"Look how good you're taking it." Porco praised you, fingers digging into your skin before he started rocking his hips. It truly felt that your pussy was made just for him, the silken walls clenching around his hard cock making him grunt with every thrust. Your legs wrapped around his waist and you both realised just how much you needed this, the hate you had for each other melting away, replaced by lust and desire.

"So b-big 'nd hard-" You mumbled incoherent words while one hand found your neck, calloused fingertips squeezing the skin.

"You've no idea how much I wanted these hands around your neck." Porco groaned, his thrusts faster and harder. "Who knew I wanted to fuck you, not kill you?" His thumb parted your lips and you hollowed your cheeks around it, sucking on it like a lollipop. "Good girl. Bedroom, now." He pulled out and you almost cried at the empty feeling between your thighs. You took his hand in yours and guided him to the room — just as pastel and cute as your personality. Porco spun you around, giving your ass a firm slap before bending you down. He pressed hot kisses on your hip and lower back and you threw your head back to look at him.

"Stop t-teasing me!"

"Jeez, aren't you greedy? I thought you hated me." He laughed into your skin, the vibrations tickling your flesh. Porco couldn't abstain any longer, one hand grasping your hip, the other pushing his cock back into you. Inch by inch, it disappeared and he let out a satisfied groan.

"I still h-hate you!" Teeth sunk into your lip to stifle a moan.

"Oh, really?" He thrusted so deep that you lost control over your arms, head falling onto the mattress. Another deep thrust and you shot back up with a growl. "Talk shit and I might not let you finish." His threat alerted you and you bucked your hips, walls clenching around his cock.

"It would be a shame if you f-finished first." Your voice was cocky, targeting that huge ego of his. It was effective — Porco's hand travelled between your legs, fingers rubbing your swollen clit and you moaned in extasy, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

"N-not fair!" You squirmed and whimpered, tears of pleasure pooling at your eyes.

"We're not playing fair." He wrapped his other hand around your neck to pull you closer, back hitting his chest. The room smelled of sex and jasmine incense and it drove you mad with lust. "Oh, what's the matter? Are you coming already?" He mocked while fucking your desperate cunt.

"Yes! God, yes!" You cried out, the climax blurring your vision.

Despite your pleas that you couldn't take it anymore, Porco kept thrusting deeper into your numbing pussy, his fingers bruising your skin, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. He was an animal, everything about him was instinctual and filthy and you hatedloved it. Your silken walls clenched around his cock again, and he was impressed that you still had some fight left in you.

"That's right, milk me dry, you dirty whore." His disgusting words reignited the dying fire inside your core and you bucked your hips against his, the friction and pressure making you come undone a second time.

"Fuck!" Was all you could say before collapsing onto the mattress, body limp and exhausted.

"Damn it, Y/N. I said milk me dry." Porco grabbed a fistful of hair and turned you over, yanking your head back to shove his cock down your throat. How on earth did he have so much stamina? You hollowed your cheeks and triedto suck, but it was him actually fucking your pretty mouth. "Are you gonna keep being a little bitch?"

"Nu-uh!" You shook your head, the word muffled by his girth. Your cheeks were burning from the lack of air, your eyes watery and red.

"Good." He groaned, thick, hot strings of his seed shooting down your throat. "Swallow." Porco held your head back as he slowly pulled out, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue.

You laid on the bed and pulled him next to you, unaware of what to do or say. Your body relaxed when he looped an arm around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest.

"Do you still hate me?" He asked.

"It depends. Are you gonna blast music at three in the morning?"

"Yep."

"Well, there's your answer." You laughed and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Listen, I'm not sorry you got stood up tonight. I mean, I am, but I'm not-"

"Porco, stop talking. It was never going to work out with him, anyway."

"Fair enough." He shrugged, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. "What if I take you out?"

"Like a date, or a murder?"

"It depends. Are you gonna call the cops on me again?"

"I'll try not to?"

"A date, then."

#porco galliard #porco x reader #porco galliard x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan #porco galliard smut #snk #snk x reader #snk smut #shingeki no kyoujin #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyoujin smut #porco galliard one shot

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onlymexsarah · 3 years

Text

Jealousy || Jesper Fahey

Request: "hey i saw your requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something with jesper? maybe with him being jealous of everyone that flirts with the reader or something like that lol, i just want jealous jesper. you are amazing btw i love your kaz’s stories!! <3"

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader

Warning: just flirt and my english :)

A/N: Thank you sweety! I'm so happy you liked it, and I hope you are gonna like this too! I'm sorry if it's short, but I have to admit I've never written something about Jepser nor I've never thought about him in that way, and it was a funny challenge, hope you'll appreciated what I've written❤

Working for Kaz Brekker meant that your life was in danger six days on seven when the luck was on your side, but that didn't stop you from having fun.

Not only you were part of the dregs, but you also were Nina's best friend, and that meant that no woman and no man had any chance to say no to you, not when you flirted with them.

It wasn't a secret that you loved fun, and just like Nina and Jesper you loved having people's eyes on you. Kaz knew that the three of you could easily flirt your way out from any trouble if needed to.

"Green or red?" you asked Nina with two dress in your hands.

"Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Definitely green." she answered without looking, she was too focus tailoring her makeup in the mirror.

From the high of his ruthlessly, Kaz Brekker had given to all of you the free night, and you had decided to go out with your friends and have fun.

"Still try to make Jesper admitting his feelings?" asked Nina while you brushed your hair.

"Jesper is Jesper, he flirts with everyone. If he doesn't a move, then there is an entire city that is waiting to do it." you said with more confident than you felt. Jesper Fahey was the boy who had fucked up your mind since the beginning, with his witty remarks and his flirty personality, you had fell for him as a kruge fell in Kaz's pocket.

You didn't want to have to go and console yourself with strangers, but at the same time you couldn't wait Jesper forever.

Nina chuckled helping you with your hair and then walking with you downstairs. "Let see if we can find a worthy partner for you, Y/n."

They reached Matthias and Jesper outside the Slat; you had the suspect that Inej would have stayed sat on Kaz's window all night keeping him company.

Matthias had to shut Jesper's mouth when you girls arrived. He was devouring you with his eyes and the Fjerdan couldn't hold a smirk.

Damn it. Did you plan to seduce all Ketterdam that night? Because he would easily surrender at you.

When you approached he composed himself. "I can't decide if you look amazing in that dress or if you'd look better without it."

He winked and saw a little blush on your cheek, but if you were shy you hid it very well with a sly smirk. "I guess you're gonna have to see yourself."

"It's a primise then." he said before the four of you started walking around the streets of Ketterdam.

Your relationship had always been like that. Jesper couldn't deny that his comments had become more true and spontaneous, he couldn't help it, and it was hilarious for the people around you, because it was oblivious how you both felt toward each other for everyone but you.

"Love, I don't think we can afford a table here." Matthias said to Nina once they stopped in front of one of the most fancy pub in Ketterdam.

"Leave me and Y/n deal with that." she winked taking your arm with hers and bringing you at the counter where the owner, a beautiful Kaelish woman, stood.

Jesper stayed at the door with Matthias looking you and Nina flirting with the woman. He saw how her eyes were on you while you giggled and smiled at her. He couldn't hear what you were saying, but it seemed that it was working because now the woman had her arms rested on the counter, her face close to yours.

"Hard, isn't it?" asked knowingly Matthias beside him. "See the girl you like flirting with someone else and obliviously being reciprocated."

"They are Nina and Y/N, they always do...that" Jepser said waving his hands in the air to point you girls. "You are the one who find it strange."

"Maybe you are right, but it's one of the things I love about her. But still, it's not a shame admitting you are jealous...I am too."

He didn't have time to answer that you and Nina arrived with two huge smiles on. I am not jealous. "Guess who has a table as a gift of the house?"

"We do, don't we?" asked Jesper excited.

"Yes! Come." you said taking his arm and bringing him at the table with Nina and Matthias behind you.

"You have to thanks Y/n, she did all the work. The owner couldn't take off her eyes from her as she talked." said Nina smirking as Jesper shifted on his seat.

"I was lucky she liked my accent." you waved your hand in the hand as it was nothing.

Nina chuckled. "More like she wanted to hear you moaning with your accent in her bedroom."

Jesper and Matthias choked themself with their drinks while you started laughing. "At least my beautiful accent gave us a table and free drinks."

You enjoyed the night, drinking and dancing. Jesper knew that people flirted with you everyday, but he thought that someone was pranking him that night. Every time he turned around someone was talking with you, making you giggle or blush. He was getting crazy.

Couldn't they just...walk away?

He moved closer to you at some point and took you into a conversation everytime he saw someone approaching.

You noticed that something annoyed Jesper, but you couldn't figure out what. You all were having fun, even if with your disbelief he hadn't danced with anyone but you. Was he ill?

"I'll go and take two drinks, stay here dove." he said in your ear walking away and disappearing behind the crowd.

You stayed there for while when a young man of few years older than you approached smiling. "You must be the star of the night because no one is shining like you."

You tried your best to not laugh. "And you must be in the wrong place, the circus in on the other side of the city."

"Ouch, pretty and quick-witten. A letal combination." he said amused.

You shrugged. "What can I say, Ketterdam made me."

You two kept talking about silly things keeping the flirt in the air. He was the one more eager, you were just waiting Jesper but the company of a pretty man wasn't bad at all.

You were laughing at one of his joke when an arm took your waist and squeezed you. "Piss off dude, she is with me."

You watched Jesper with widened eyes as he burned the man with his eyes.

"She didn't seem so to me." said the man annoyed.

"Well sorry to disappoint you. Now go away if you don't want trouble."

"Jesper!" you didn't know what was happening. You had been talking with people all night and he hadn't said a word, so why now was different?

"It's fine, I'll go." you and Jesper remained alone and he looked like nothing happened.

"Drink?" he said offering you one glass.

You shoke your head astonished and walked away toward the door. You needed fresh air and stay as far away as possible from him.

"Y/n!" you heard his voice behind you but you didn't care. What was wrong with him? He had never had such behaviour in none of your nights out. "Y/n wait!" He followed you outside, the drinks forgotten somewhere inside. "Tell me what's wrong."

"What was that?" you asked crossing your arm in front of your chest.

"What was what?" he said confused making you rolling your eyes.

"You were...rude. You had no reason to threat him like you did."

You could see in his eyes that he didn't know what to say. He looked for an good lie but it was hard under your inquisitors eyes. "Y-you were suppose to be with me!"

"So? That never stopped you from finding other partners." you raised an eyebrow obliviously.

He gave a quick look around, as if something could help him, but when his eyes fell on you again he knew he had to tell the true otherwise he could loose you.

"I was annoyed, alright? All those people flirting with you, saints I couldn't even turn around a moment that someone had already approached you." he agitated his hands in the air while you widened your eyes.

"Why should it bother you anyway?" you asked defensive.

He looked at you astonished, as if you were asking why the water was wet. "Because I like you! Hadn't been oblivious enough these past months?!" Now your mouth was a bit hopen, speechlees. He seemed to notice what he had said after few seconds. "Oh...it would be too late saying that it's not true, wouldn't it?"

You nodded quickly. "Yes, definitely too late."

"Well, you weren't suppose to find out like this. I had planned something like a date, maybe with some candles and a good view, but I guess that in front of a pub in the Barrel sounds fine too." he tried to joke shrugging while you were still processing his words.

"You are still in time, the night is not over for that date." you sounded casual but you couldn't hold your smile while you said it.

He looked at you surprised before smiling like a child. "Let's tell Nina and Matthias we are leaving then."

You walked inside the pub, both smiling like idiots, before you felt a hand on you wrist that turned you around and a pair of soft lips on yours. Jesper was kissing you while he kept you close with his right hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, and you didn't think twice about putting your hands behind his neck.

"I have to make sure no one will flirt with you again tonight." he said seductively with a smirk a few inches from your mouth making you blush.

#jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker #nina zenik #matthias helvar #inej ghafa #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #the dregs #the crows #wylan van eck #ketterdam #ice court

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Made with love | Helmut Zemo

Chef Zemo AU! 👨‍🍳

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Previous chapter]

Part 14 - Finale

Tony Stark stood at the opposite end of the square. He was staring right at the restaurant on the corner. The restaurant with the lovely view. The restaurant with the nice outdoor seating area. The restaurant he was to be at tonight.

Tony clenched his fist beside him. He just needed to get the rights to the building. He needed Helmut Zemo to accept the cheque and sign it over.

Sure, the restaurant looked fresh and new, but no amount of make overs would save it from the wrath of Tony Stark. He was a man with a plan, and tonight he would come out on top.

His eyes narrows on the movement in the window. Someone he didn't recognise was checking over the tables. With a sigh, he turns on his heel and disappears.

Veronica had a clipboard in hand with a checklist. She was checking off everything and making sure the whole restaurant was ready for tonight. You were by the bar with your own clipboard, going through a list with Sam.

"That's everything. Think you can handle it?" You ask him, looking over the shelves behind him.

"With Bucky and Natasha here, I think we got it. Just waiting for those coffee beans."

"Natasha has gone to get them. I got a few bags, though I think people will be more interested in your end of the bar," you chuckle.

Sam winks at you.

"I've got many tricks up my sleeve."

"Blow them all away!"

You check off the drinks list and turn around to face Veronica.

"All menus out?"

"All accounted for," she replies. She smiles and checks off her own list.

"Good. Left or right?" You asks.

"Right."

"Right is your side for the evening. I'll have left and outside."

"I can help with outside," she says.

"Outside is neutral territory then," you chuckle. She nods and you both mark it down. "I'll go check the kitchen, the waiting staff should be soon, make sure Wanda knows."

Veronica nods and you head into the kitchen.

Helmut has his back to you as he gives out orders. Chefs are spread throughout the kitchen, each with their assignments. You smile at the way he is handling it all.

You let him finish giving out orders before coughing softly and calling his name.

Helmut turns instantly and smiles at you.

"How's it going, chef?"

You haven't called him that since the day you made that paella with him. His lips curl into a mischievous grin as he steps closer to you.

"All is well in my domain. How about out front?"

"We are ready for the main event."

He kisses you.

"Your father would be so proud of you," you tell him.

Hearing you say that makes his heart flutter. That's all he ever wanted to do.

"Something smells delicious," you say, laughing softly.

Helmut glances over his shoulder.

"That could be a number of things."

You both laugh together before you kiss his cheek and let him crack on with it. You made a promise to see him later when you both head home to change.

When you go back out, Wanda is with her staff for the night. Wanda was beyond excited to play head waitress tonight, she wanted to be as useful as she could to you. You assured her she had ways been helpful. After all, she did play match maker.

Wanda turns when you approach, dismissing the staff who go ahead and make themselves busy with Veronica.

"Are you excited?" Wanda asks.

"I'm nervous. Tonight has so much to prove."

"We can do it."

"I know," you sigh softly. Wanda pulls you in for a hug.

"We're a team, we're going to do this."

You nod. You both take a deep breath together and smile.

"Let's finish the final touches and get our asses back so we can all change for the evening."

You nod and go through the last checklist.

Back at the apartment, you change your clothes. As a host you wouldn't be wearing your apron, so you wore something smart and presentable. Helmut was all ready to go, his apron back at the restaurant. He was just waiting for you to finish up.

When you were done, you stood in front of him in the living room.

"Ready?" He asks.

"Ready."

You take Helmut's hand and kiss him as he leans in. You both smile and leave the apartment.

It was becoming very real now.

You arrive at Escorpión Morado. Helmut has all staff gather in the kitchen. You stand beside your boyfriend as he faces his staff.

"We only have one shot to show Tony Stark that this is my restaurant. One shot to prove that we're not irrelevant. Escorpión Morado has stood here this long and it will stand for many years to come. He can offer me all the money he wants, but I will never sell my father's pride and joy to him. I need everyone focused, ready, and open for any changes. Nothing can go wrong here."

Everyone replies with 'yes chef!'

He turns to you and nods. You nod back and gesture for Veronica to follow. Wanda and the wait staff follow behind, Sam, Bucky and Natasha behind them.

You and Veronica stand in front of the doors. You can see all the people you invited waiting to come inside. The butterflies in your stomach are having a ball.

Sam, Bucky, and Natasha take their places behind the bar.

Wanda and the waiters stand to one side of the room.

You take a deep breath and put on a smile as both you and Veronica open the doors.

"Welcome everyone."

One by one you guide them inside. Veronica and yourself guide people to tables, having accounted for everyone you invited. That included extra guests of which you anticipated Tony to have considering you went to his party with more than he bargained for.

You smile, greet, talk them through the menu.

However, all but one table was full. You cast glances at Wanda, Natasha, and the boys. Each of them shrug.

Tony hadn't arrived yet.

Helmut stands by the kitchen door. You lock eyes with him and shook your head subtly. He glances toward the door and grits his teeth slightly.

Stark was doing this on purpose.

You turn to fine other guests. They're all local people. Some have been here since the restaurant was first built. Some who came here as children. Some who had been every day. They knew this place. They knew Helmut. They knew why this was happening tonight.

You smile at those who recognise you for your hard work these last few weeks.

"It's wonderful to see everyone. Thank you all so much for coming, though it appears our V.I.P of the night is running late. I hope you'll be happy to wait just a moment longer. Though, should he not arrive soon, we will just have to start without him."

There were no signs of negativity. They agreed to wait.

You looked at Sam.

"Perhaps drinks are in order?" You smile at him.

"Coming up."

Wanda nodded at the waiters. Each of them pulled out a notepad and began taking orders for drinks. You turned back to the door and waited.

"Where do you think he is?" Veronica asks, coming over to stand beside you.

"No idea, but he must be up to something."

Just as you said that three figures appeared up ahead. They walking across the square together. You narrow your eyes trying to work put exactly who they were. You knew for a fact none of them were Tony.

As they got a little closer, you could see them.

Pepper, Strange, and Heike.

You wanted to scream, but you were going to be a professional. He sent is entourage ahead.

As they come to the door, you greet them the same way you had everyone else. Heike was looking at you with such a piercing gaze, but you didn't let that bother you.

"Come in, Veronica, will you show them to their table?"

"With pleasure," she says, though not for a single moment did she mean it.

You watched as they followed Veronica to their table, but then turned back to the open door.

Helmut came up beside you, his hand on your back.

"Nothing?"

"Not yet. His party are here though," you say nodding at the table. He glances over and sighs when he sees Heike looking at him. She looks eager to gain his attention.

"Want me to wait with you?" He asks.

You shake your head.

"No, go back to the kitchen. We'll start taking orders now. You need to be ready for when they come in."

He kisses your temple and makes his way back to the kitchen. Heike rises from her chair and stops him at the kitchen door.

"Can we talk?"

He glares at her.

"No."

He pushes on and goes into the kitchen, not wanting to hear any more.

You turn Wanda and nod at her. She claps once and the waiters are on the floor taking orders. You pull put your own notepad and help them out.

You smile as you take the order for the nearest table. A lovely old couple who remember the days Heinrich ran this place. You chat with them before heading to the kitchen.

Orders are already pinned up and ready. Helmut is there to take your order. You smile at each other as you hand it over. He pins it up and shouts it out.

You wink at him and head back out front.

Headlights. You can see headlights at the other end of the square. Everyone in the restaurant can see them, all turning to look.

You stand by the door.

A red sportscar.

Tony Stark.

It cruises across the square. How he managed to get it there, you will never know. This square wasn't for cars.

It cruises along, only coming to a stop by the door. The headlights turn off and the drivers door opens. The man of the hour climbs out and turns to you. He closes the door and comes to stand in front of you.

"I hope you're hungry Mr. Stark."

"Starving."

You gesture into the restaurant. He walks in. Veronica shows him to the table and holds his chair out for him. The room was silent as they watched him take his seat. Veronica steps back and looks at you.

"As you were," he calls out.

You nod at Veronica who gets him a menu and takes his starter order.

You walk up to the bar and look at Sam. He already knows what you want. You had discussed it with him before hand. He pushes the drink across the bar to you.

You take it and present it to Tony yourself.

"Morado de Verano."

He takes it. He looks at it. He smells it.

You stand there and watch.

He sips it.

You are the way he seems to freeze for a moment. He tastes it. He's annoyed by how good it is. You can see he likes it, but he won't admit it.

You smile.

Sam sees you smiling. He gives Bucky a little high five behind the bar.

Just as you walk away, the waiters comes out with the starters. They flood the restaurant and present their dishes. You head into the lit hen to help.

Helmut looks up immediately as you enter.

"Well?"

"He's here. I gave him a drink. Veronica took his order."

"I have it," he taps the order.

You nod and take one of the orders waiting. Helmut tells you which table it is for and you nod.

"I love you!" He yells, before you leave his sight again.

You laugh and yell back, "I love you too!"

Things are going smoothly. People are enjoying their starters and there's conversation in the air. Every so often you glance up at Stark's table. There is not a single smile there.

You nod at Sam and makes another round of drinks for the table.

Orders for the main courses come in. You take Stark's order yourself. You ignore the way he stares at you. You especially ignore the way Heike is staring at you. You note down their orders and put on a smile, leaving as quickly as you could.

Natasha leans in before you reach the kitchen.

"I could take her out, you know."

You laugh.

"Not tonight Nat."

You go into the kitchen and give Helmut the order. He takes it from you, fingers purposely brushing against yours and making you blush. He smirks when he sees your reaction and then shouts out the order.

He looks at you.

"All good?"

"Yeah, in here?"

"Yeah. Though I am missing you terribly tonight."

"Aw, you'll see me later. You should bring out the main course yourself for Stark."

"Right. I'll be out."

You nod and leave, another exchange of 'I love you' being exclaimed to each other with laughter.

You go around and make sure everyone is doing OK, but as you do, Heike gets up and approaches you.

"What can I do for you?" You say, remaining polite.

"I want you to get Helmut for me."

"No, he's busy I'm afraid. He's cooking your meal."

"Then I want to go see him."

"No customers in the kitchen. You'll be in the way, plus, he's busy. I just said as such myself."

You hated how polite your voice sounded and how much it hurt to smile at her. God, you wanted to rip her hair out and kick her to the street.

"It's important."

"I'm sorry, but you need to sit back down now. The main courses will be out shortly."

Heike throws a mini tantrum as she stomps her foot before returning to the table.

You resist running a hand down your face as you retreat to the bar. Natasha is topping up some drinks as you approach.

"My offer still stands."

"At this rate I may accept it. She's just trying to annoy me, and it's working."

"Deep breaths."

You roll your eyes and take the tray. Natasha gives you the table number and you go on your way.

When the main courses come out, Helmut exits the kitchen with Tony's meal, and only Tony's. Behind him are a couple of waiters with the rest. They put down their first, Heike looking unimpressed they someone sent served her, and then Helmut presented Tony with his meal.

Before he could get away, Tony grabbed Zemo's wrist.

"This won't change anything," he said.

Zemo smiled.

"It changes everything. Look around you. These people live here. They came because I invited them in honour of my father. They came because this place matters. You're running a business, I'm running a family legacy. You can't win."

Tony let's go of him.

"We'll see about that."

On the table sits the cheque. The same amount of zeros on it as the day he presented it.

Zemo picks it up.

Tony begins to smile.

You stand beside Helmut.

"Try it," you urge, nodding at the dish.

Tony inhales. He looks at the food. Glancing between you and the dish he slowly takes a bite.

Once again he left blown away by what his tastebuds are experiencing.

You hold the cheque in both hands, out in front of you. The whole table looks up at you. Swiftly, you tear in two and let both halves fall to the table.

"You can't cook like Helmut can. You can't run a restaurant like Helmut can. You can't respect people like Helmut can," you say slowly.

Heike stands quickly, not even trying her meal.

"He doesn't love you, you know."

You roll your eyes again.

"No, he adores me. I adore him. Let it go, Heike. You just can't accept that he moved and run you after what you did to him. You need to leave. You're not welcome at our restaurant again," you tell her.

"Your restaurant?"

"Yes, our restaurant," Helmut says, smiling. He puts an arm around you and pulls you into his side.

You nod behind Heike once. Wanda and Natasha grab an arm each and escort Heike off the premises. The restaurant is filled with cheering as she is kicked out.

Tony sits there and looks at the pair of you.

"You'll fail. Within the year you'll fail," he tells you.

"No, I don't think we will."

Veronica comes up behind Tony and grabs the back of his jacket. She tugs it, urging him to stand. He sighs and does as she wants. Veronica escort him to the door where she let's go and gives him a hard kick. Tony stumbles forward onto the hood of his car which remained parked right outside the doors. Pepper and Strange are quickly to follow on their own.

You stand there hand in hand with Helmut as you watch them scamper away.

Once they are gone, the whole restaurant stands up and cheers.

You laugh loudly.

Helmut laughs with you and kisses your temple.

Tony Stark couldn't have that it takes true talent to run a restaurant. His food would never compare to Helmut's. His service would move compare to yours.

You look around.

"Eat up, it will go cold!"

The customers all dig in. Helmut gestures for the table Tony had been at to be cleared. He guides you into the kitchen as they do that.

"You handled that very well," he tells you.

You smile.

"I think we both did."

He places his hands on either side of your face and looks at you.

If someone had told him a few years ago he would be standing here falling in love all over again, though this time with someone who actually did mean the world to him, he would call them a liar.

Yet, here you were.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Helmut leans in and kisses you quite passionately in the middle of the kitchen. Neither one of you care for the staff that come and go as they prepares for deserts.

You pull apart and look at him, placing your hands on his.

"Let's finish up tonight."

"Yes, let's."

You kiss once more and he lets you go back out front.

It's late when you're looking the doors. The restaurant looks a bit askew from all the people moving about, but other than that there was nothing to worry about.

The waiters gathered the plates and glasses. Sam and Bucky tidied up the bar, putting everything back where it belonged. Natasha and Wanda worked together to while down tables and sweep the floors. Helmut was in the back helping the kitchen staff clean.

You were at the till counting up the profits for the evening. Deserts had been free simply because everyone had celebrated Tony Stark being kicked out of the restaurant.

You totalled it all up and bagged up the money, putting it away for safe keeping. When you came back, Helmut was waiting for you by the bar.

"Do you have a minute?" He asks, smiling softly at you.

"Of course," you say, going over to sit with him.

On the bar in front of him was a file. He opens it up for you and places a pen down on top of it.

"What's this?"

"My paperwork for the restaurant. I've had it reprinted."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to sign it."

You stare into those stunning brown eyes of his as he stares back. There's a soft smile on his face.

"What do you mean?"

He chuckles softly and his hand glides along the bottom of the page he had presented to you. You lean in a little to read it.

You gasp softly.

Owner & Manager - Helmut Zemo

Co-owener & Manager - ................

The space was blank. He wanted you to sign it. You look back up at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"This is quite a commitment."

"I know."

"I'd have shares in your restaurant."

"Our restaurant."

He didn't stop smiling.

You turn back to the page and slowly find yourself lifting the pen. You click it and look down at the space where your name should be.

You smile.

You can feel tears threatening to fall.

Helmut puts an arm around you and pulls you into his side. He kissed your cheek, lips lingering there.

"I want this," he whispers.

"Me too."

Then suddenly your hand is scribbling. Your name sits on the line. You drop the pen and smile.

Helmut litters kisses all over your face.

You both laugh.

"This is actually happening."

"Yes, it is."

You look at him and smile. He smiles back at you. You kiss him. This kiss felt so different from all the ones before. This one was sealing a deal. Sealing a future together.

He is yours and you are his, and together you had this restaurant to run. A restaurant which had a bright future ahead of it all because you entered his life.

“Lets go home,” he whispers.

You chuckle softly.

“Yes, chef.”

@namethathasnotbeentaken @belle82devart @cathrin2405 @lieutenantn @wilder-fangirl @latenightartist-author @lucky-luck-lucky @hb8301 @charistory @thatoneartgalsstuff @thesuitkovian @malkaviangirl @zemosimp420 @realremyd @the-chaotic-cow @lostghostgirl94 @zafiro-draco @lazygurl05 @pinkcutiepiee @goddessofmischief03 @whovianayesha @myybebe @awesomesauce-abbie @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @swooning-for-mc-avoy @nonamec0s @apparrio @scuttle-buttle @alex-the-nb @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @greeneyedblondie44 @somethingthatsaysbubbles

#marvel #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #au #baron helmut zemo #zemo #chef zemo au #tfatws

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

CRASH

Pairing: FFXV! NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 2.050

Warnings: none;

Summary: One morning on your way to work, you crash into a cute guy not expecting seeing him again in the evening.

You were running late. Again. There was no way your boss would buy another lame excuse if you wouldn't hurry. Maybe, if one of the six would be with you, you still could make it on time. If you were fast. Well, faster than fast. Maybe fast like a chocobo…

You were so deep in your thoughts with your eyes glued at your phone that you barely noticed anything around you. You knew the way. Blindly. Flying down the different streets in the heart of the city for two years. You knew every single light signal, every street sign and every building by heart.

What you didn't know was that big rocks could suddenly emerge from the ground because as you ran into something it felt as if you were slamming straight into a massive wall made of stone. You bumped into it, bouncing back from the rock before you fell.

But there was no impact on the ground…

"Hey, it's okay. I got you. You can open your eyes.", a soft male voice spoke close to your ear.

Only then, you felt two strong arms embracing your waist. As you raised your gaze, you got greeted by ocean blue eyes filled with concern, "The… the rock can speak.", you breathed startled, '...And is handsome as hell.', you thought further.

"Excuse me, what did you say?", the man asked confusedly and checked on you. He had noticed that the impact had been hard, you were straight crashing into him with some kind of speed, but it shouldn't cause any real trouble for your health.

You shook your head quickly to get your mind under control again, "I- I'm sorry.", you breathed, showing the man, who steadied your stand, a huge smile, "Thanks for catching me so quickly."

"It was my pleasure- hey, where are you going?", the man asked surprised.

You were already back on your way, "I'm sorry. I have to go. But it was nice crashing into you.", you called out before you hurried down the street.

Nyx stepped forward, following you but stopped again as his feet kicked at something. A small smartphone slid over the stones of the pavement. Nyx caught it before it could fall on the street and would get hit by a car.

Without a second thought, Nyx ran after you, trying to catch up but as he turned the corner of a coffee shop, you were already out of sight.

***

"Hey, what is that? Fancy new phone?", Libertus asked as he sat next to his friend.

Once again, Nyx nudged the display to turn it on. A picture of you with a cat showed up. Your eyes were sparkling and your smile breathtakingly beautiful. Only the little box with the PIN request threw a shadow of the image, "Actually, I… I found it this morning. It's theirs.", he said and pointed at the picture that glowed up again.

Libertus turned the phone over, "Looks cute. Seems to have money if they can afford such an expensive thing."

"Yeah…", Nyx breathed and frowned. It was indeed the newest model and didn't even have one scratch. And even if he had been distracted by your eyes and smile, he had noticed your expensive looking clothes, your styled hair and even the fancy shoes.

"But… Why do you have their phone?", Libertus asked.

Nyx got brought back from the daydreaming about you, "They crashed into me this morning. I guess they were on their way to work because they left pretty fast. I found the phone on the ground and ran after them but they were already out of sight.", he explained.

"Have you tried to find a number?", Libertus asked.

Nyx chuckled dryly, turning on the display once again, pointing at it, "What do you think this is, huh?"

"A cat.", Libertus answered, not getting the reason behind the question.

Nyx leant back in his chair while running a hand over his face, "I meant the PIN. I need a PIN to unlock the phone or otherwise, I don't have access."

"Oh... Well, but maybe Pelna can help-"

"Glaives! Into the briefing room!", Captain Drautos called out and within seconds your phone disappeared back into the pocket of Nyx' uniform jacket.

Unfortunately, it stayed there for the rest of the day…

***

Nyx was bushed. Because everything was pretty calm at the moment with no new attacks on Insomnia by Niflheim, Nyx and the other Glaives should train to stay focused. At the end of the day, Nyx scuffed into the locker room completely exhausted. He sat down on a bench and raked his fingers through his hair to relax a little bit.

"Hey, Nyx! Libertus! Wanna stop at Yamachang's?", Luche asked.

Nyx nodded without looking up. To get something to eat and to drink would be nice after a full day of training.

"Haven't you forgotten something?", Libertus asked and nudged Nyx' shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"The fancy phone you found? Or do you wanna keep it after all?", Libertus asked with a grin, knowingly exactly that Nyx wouldn't do something like this.

Nyx' head shot up as he remembered, "Fuck… I totally forgot the phone!", he whispered and jumped up.

"Where are you going?", Luche called out, looking confused after his friend.

"I have to find Pelna!"

***

Thirty minutes later, Nyx had the address of your place. Once again, Pelna had worked his magic when it came to technology and information. Very quickly, Pelna found out your name and that you lived in the heart of the city not far away from the point where you had crashed into Nyx.

So, Nyx was on his way to get to your place. He was sure you would be grateful to get your phone back. He cursed himself that he had forgotten about it the whole day and hoped you wouldn't be too mad.

Accompanied by many pedestrians which were going home or into bars, Nyx made his way through the streets and was taken aback as he found himself in front of one of these high, luxurious looking apartment buildings.

Maybe Libertus was right and you had indeed a lot of money. Nyx swallowed nervously as he stepped through the entrance. The lobby was decorated with a bunch of plants and framed paintings. Even a leather couch stood at one wall. His boots made soft noises on the marble floor.

A couple was staring at him suspiciously. People like Nyx weren't liked to be seen in such places. For everyone, it was okay that he and the others risked their lives to fight for safety but at the end of the day, the refugees should stay where they belonged: in the underground.

Nyx hurried over to a board with names and searched for yours. He found it quickly. You lived on the eight floor and moments later, Nyx stood in one of the elevators with mirrored walls and a golden handrail.

Nerve-wracking slowly, the elevator brought Nyx to the floor he wanted. There was something strange when he walked through buildings and streets like these. It wasn't just that he was an outsider for all of them. It was rather just not his world. Even back in Galahd, such luxury wasn't common and so, he felt misplaced.

Nyx walked down the hallway while taking out your phone. He looked at the shining material. This was your world. You lived like this and maybe you didn't even know something other than having money.

As he reached your door with the golden apartment number, Nyx just needed to knock. He could knock and you would open the door. Maybe accusing him of stealing your phone. Maybe yelling at him that he needed the whole day to bring you the phone back. Or, you would call him stalker because he had tracked you down.

One last time, Nyx turned on the display and looked at the cute picture of you with the cat in your arms. Both of you looked so happy. You looked so nice and sweet. And even this morning, you had been nice to Nyx. At least, you hadn't been unfriendly.

As the display went off again, Nyx saw his mirrored expression on the surface. He saw his tattoos and braids and knew that this was not his world. So, he did the only thing that came to his mind: placing the phone in front of your door and to leave.

"Minka, what is- you!", you said surprised as you opened the door, seeing the cute guy from the morning in front of you. The whole day, he had occupied your thoughts and now, he was there.

Nyx looked up and greeted you with a shy smile. You stood in your doorframe, holding the door in your hand before you opened it even a bit more, "Hey, uhm… I- I found your phone this morning. You know...after our crash.", he stammered and presented the smartphone in his hands to you.

You stared at him and then at his hand for several moments before you jumped against the unknown man, snaking your arms around his neck to squeeze him tightly, "Oh, god bless! I had no idea where I'd lost it! You're heaven-sent!", you said over excitedly. Suddenly, you remembered what you were doing and so, slightly sheepishly, you stepped back again, "I- I'm sorry. I know, boundaries. It was just... I'm so lost without my phone. The day was a living hell.", you said softly.

"I'm sorry that it took me so long to bring it back. The day was a bit … busy.", Nyx said, scratching the back of his neck. He still felt bad for forgetting the phone at all.

You waved his apology aside. You knew what it meant to have a rough day. Only then, you noticed what the man in front of you was wearing, "You… you're a Kingsglaive.", you whispered in awe.

Nyx saw your astonished and excited expression and took the opportunity, "Yes, I am. Nyx Ulric at your service.", he said with a smile as you were still gaping at him.

As you noticed that you were still staring, you swallowed, "I’m sorry… It’s just that.. I'm such a big fan of you all. I mean, what you do for this city … we all owe you so much.", you said honestly.

Nyx was taken aback, "A fan? Never met one before to be honest."

"I know. You guys don't get appreciated enough. At least, not as much as you all deserve it. But- wait! I have an idea. Come in. Have dinner with me. Please.", you asked as you saw Nyx' refusing expression.

"Thank you. But it's not necessary.", he said politely even if he wanted to say something else. He would love to spend more time with you and your light attitude that made his heart jump a little.

"Please. You rescued me and my phone. You even brought it back. Plus the things you do as a Glaive. Inviting you in is the least I can do to thank you.", you tried to convince Nyx with your winning smile.

"I… I don't know. It wouldn’t be right…", Nyx said and just meant it half-heartedly.

"Please.", you begged, "If you leave, I just have Minka for company."

Nyx chuckled and even if he already sensed the answer, he asked anyway, "Who's Minka?"

"My cat.", you answered, looking down at the stripy, little troublemaker sitting next to your feet.

Nyx followed your glance and chuckled, "But she looks sweet.", he said amused as the cat tilted its head.

"Oh, she's sweet. Most the time. As long as you have food. No food, no sweetness. Trust me, she will turn into a vicious monster if she wants to.", you whispered conspiratorially.

Nyx was hooked. He liked your eyes, your smile and you were funny. The whole package was simply perfect. In fact, he didn't want to leave so quickly, "Did you say vicious monster? If that's so, I guess, I should accept your invitation. I mean, someone has to protect you."

"And who would be better for this job as an honorable Glaive.", you said with a huge grin, stepping aside to let Nyx into your apartment, into your life and into your world.

#nyx ulric x female reader #nyx #nyx ulric x gender neutral reader #nyx ulric x male reader #final fantasy nyx ulric #kingsglaive nyx #ff15 nyx ulric #nyx ulric x reader #nyx ulric #final fantasy xv #final fantasy kingsglaive #male reader #female reader #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader

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renova-writes · 3 years

Text

Coney Island Hotdogs

Requested by: @maximeevansblog

Summary: “The reader is the daughter of bucky barnes, and the have a daddy - daugther Day, but the reader wants to sleep but her dad has other plans , and end of the Day the asks what do you wanna eat Mac donalds and the watch a movie, but the reader falls a sleep trough the movie, and he carries her to bed, but she wakes up and her dad she go back to sleep button, i am carring you to bed, and allot of fluff and cuteness and if its ready you tag me right thanks”

Words: 2,004

Warnings: Just basically a bunch of Fluff. Some mentions of bullying and death, but very light and fun

Other Works: masterlist

"Five more minutes," you whined. The clock on your bedstand read 5:39 am.

"Hey, button," you heard a voice whisper. The dark locks dangling over you told you that it was your father. "Get dressed. I have a surprise for you."

"It's too early."

"I know, but I'll make you a (your favorite caffeinated drink)" Your dad obviously wanted you to get up but was not going to force you. That was one of your favorite things about him. He never forced you to do anything you didn't want to.

"Really" Your sleepy eyes lit up at the mention of caffeine.

"Yes button, really. I promise. Just get yourself ready to go, and it will be waiting for you" he smiled and walked out of your room, "Also, bring a jacket. Just in case."

With that, your dad left. As you paused for a moment in your bedsheets, soaking up the last moments of fluffy warmth before you needed to get up, excitement crawled up your spine. It wasn't often that you and your dad did things, just the two of you. He was always busy with the Avengers, or you two were over with Sam and his family. When you did make time for special days, he usually asked you what you wanted to do beforehand.

His walking into your room at five in the morning, asking you to get up so that you two could have a bonding day, was unusual. He must have something special planned.

You forced yourself to get out of bed. That was going to be the hardest part. Half asleep, you dragged yourself over to the bathroom. You did your business and paused after washing your hands to brush your teeth and your hair. A smile crept across your face in the mirror as you tried to guess what you were going to do.

The zoo? The park? Maybe the museums?

You lived in the Avenger's tower in the heart of New York City, so there were many options. You gave up trying to guess and decided to go with whatever. It was going to be fun no matter what.

It was the beginning of spring, so it was warm during the day but cold in the mornings. You picked out a light floral dress, leggings, and a cardigan so that you could have layers. Some essential jewelry and your boots would also be a part of your outfit.

After putting on your clothes and some basic makeup, you made your way to the main room of your apartment. Just like he had promised, your dad had gotten your beverage from the Starbucks next to the lobby. He had probably gotten it before waking you up as it was sitting in the microwave/fridge.

"Hey button. Nice to see that you finally have awoken from your cavern of blankets," he joked, "You ready. I've got an amazing day planned out. Just the two of us."

"Yep. Where are we going."

"Button, that's a surprise!"

"Tell me!!" you giggled.

"Well, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you," he smiled. A goofy grin was on his face, with admiration pouring out of his eyes.

"Just a hint…" you begged. "I'll probably forget by the time we get there."

"No. I want it to be a complete surprise," your dad insisted, "that's why, after you drink your drink, I want you to put on a blindfold."

Oh dear, he was very insistent about this whole surprise thing.

"But first, BREAKFAST!!!" he exclaimed as he presented you with your favorite breakfast, waffles, and strawberries. The plate seemed to sparkle with deliciousness as your stomach cried out in hunger.

"Yummy!!!"

"See, I remembered your favorite" he seemed very proud of himself. You had mentioned that you liked waffles when Wanda had made them for a birthday breakfast.

"Dig in! I put some strawberry syrup into the waffles themselves so that we would have extra strawberry flavor."

He handed you a fork and a knife, and you cut into them. The heat fell off of the bite on your forked, and you braced yourself in anticipation. Your father could cook; he and Steve used to make dinners for the team. But that was with Steve, now that he was gone, your dad rarely cooked. It had been hard for him. He was slowly getting over it; you definitely helped. Having somebody to take of, his therapist agreed, was very good for him. But his food was very hit or miss. This morning, however, the waffles were amazing.

The strawberries tasted fresh and had the perfect amount of sweetness. The waffles were eggy, precisely the way you liked them.

"Dad! These are delicious!" you exclaimed.

"I know, right, they're so good," he nodded in agreement, "but can I admit something? I stole the recipe off Auntie Wanda."

It didn't matter where he got the recipe from. They were delicious. It took the two of you a total of 10 minutes to eat the entire plateful.

He pulled a blindfold out of his pocket and put it around your eyes. You had faith that he wouldn't let you bump into anything. You weren't going to have to worry about the crowded city streets. When the strangers passing by got a glimpse of his metal arm, they always made a beeline away from him.

You knew it hurt him. You could see it in his eyes. He was your dad, after all. When you were younger, you couldn't understand why they were afraid, but now that you were older, you knew. It never, even for a second, hurt your relationship with your dad. You loved him. You knew that the real James Barnes was a cinnamon roll. This was a man who wouldn't kill spiders when he found them in the kitchen. This was a man who hung out with the Parker boy and played video games.

Even though the blindfold around your eyes took away your sight, you knew that your dad was checking to see if his gun was where he needed it. After all, he was the Winter Soldier. But that was an everyday thing. When he stopped rustling with his pockets, you felt a hand on your shoulder guiding you out of the room.

------

As soon as you heard the crowd's excitement, you knew where you were. The smell of cotton candy and hot dogs confirmed it.

Your dad had taken you to Coney Island.

You hadn't been there since you were a little kid and couldn't control your excitement. The hand that had been guiding you on your shoulder disappeared and removed the blindfold.

After taking a moment to adjust to the light, your eyes took in the flashing lights and kids running around. The roller coasters and carnival games all around you captivated your attention and caused a smile to form on your face.

"How's this for a surprise Button?"

"Dad, this is amazing! Thank you!!!"

"What ride do you want to go on first?"

The morning flew by in a blur. You and your dad had decided to go on every single ride you could. He had enjoyed the bumper cars and had won you a stuffed panda bear on one of the shooting games. You got the famous coney island hot dogs for lunch and ate on a bench on the beach. The entire morning, there was one thing that you really wanted to do… Ride the Cyclone.

"Hey, dad….."

"Yes Button"

"Can we ride the Cyclone"

"Um. of course. We have to. What's the point of coming here if we don't."

You threw away your trash and got in line. A man with purple hair and tattoos strapped the two of you in and took your picture.

"Alrighty ladies and gents," the loudspeaker in the car said. "Are you ready for the Cyclone"

Everyone on the train whooped and hollered in excitement, and the car lurched forward. Slowly you crept up the first hill and felt the adrenaline follow. At the top, you saw the people on the benches below. You couldn't help but compare them to little dolls from your height.

With that, the car reached the top of the hill and falls.

"Whoa, Button, I think I'm going to be sick," Buck said once you were off. He was looking somewhat green and queasy.

It was your turn to guide him... to a trash can. It turned out he wasn't going to throw up, which you were grateful for, but the Cyclone's toll had been taken. He rested his body on a bench and called it quits.

"What time is it," he asked. You checked your watch. It was two in the afternoon. "How about we do something a little, slower."

"Sure," you agreed. You were in Brooklyn, his home borough, and he decided to take you on a tour of where he grew up.

"And this is the alleyway where your Uncle Steve decided to get in all those fights," he said you passed by. "One time, after I saved his tiny ass, he told me that he thought he had pulled a muscle, and I was all like, 'Steve, you can't pull what you don't have."

You giggled at the thought of skinny Steve. Continuing on your tour, you saw his old apartment and walked through the one he shared with Steve. It had been turned into a museum, and you laughed together for an hour as he pointed out every single detail that had been changed.

"There was no way that we could have two beds! There was no heater, so we shared one! Why would they change that! It wasn't like we had anything going on between us!" he argued. You laughed as the tour guide still could not recognize one of the old occupants of the apartment.

Once your dad seemed satisfied with his tour, the two of you walked down to the nearest subway stop. In the underground station, you passed those golden arches.

"Dad, can we get McDonald's," you asked.

"Are you sure, Button, we can get much better food back a the tower"

"Yeah, we haven't had it in forever, and I need to feed my inner Chicken nugget," you joked.

He must have been in an excellent mood because he gave in to the lure of the golden arches. He also seemed like he really wanted a burger because he got his usual order, Two big macs, a large fry, and an M&M McFlurry. The super-soldier serum had granted him the ability and need to eat loads of food. You also figured that he wanted a break from Pepper's food because she had decided that the entire team needed to become more healthy conscience. It wasn't that anyone hated her food; it was just somewhat bland. And besides, who wants couscous when you can have Micky D's.

After Bucky had wolfed down his food, and you had savored each bite of Chicken Nugget, you got on the train back home. You could feel yourself grow tired as your body finally rested from an exciting and full day. Your head drooped down and rested on your father's shoulder.

"Hey, button, let's watch a movie in the tower."

He picked out a classic, The Wizard of Oz, and made popcorn. You barely made it to the tornado before your eyes finally gave up. You were so tired that you didn't feel your dad pick you up and start carrying you to your bed.

Your eyes fluttered open as you heard 'If only I had a heart' playing from the TV.

"Hey, Button," your dad's voice whispered, "You fell asleep. I didn't want you to wake up on the sofa, so I'm taking you to your bed."

He laid you down and pulled up the blankets. With a kiss on your forehead, turned to leave.

"Dad, I love you," you called out.

"I love you too, Button" On that note, he turned out your light and closed your door

#bucky x y/n #bucky x daughter!reader #bucky fluff #domestic bucky #fic request #steve x you #sam x you #marvel #avengers #avengers x young reader

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brownsugarcoffy · 4 years

Text

Poledancer

Rio x Black Reader

Disclaimer: profanity & flirting

A/N: This was for Frizzle’s 2K Follower Celebration & Bad Bitch Challenge by @blackmissfrizzle , I think it's late, but whatever. Lol Not edited. Enjoy!

Tonight was your special night. It was your last night at Solace and you couldn't more happy to be starting a new chapter of your life.

Of course you will miss the girls you worked with. You guys were a big family at Solace and you will alway remember the good times, but it was time to move on up.

You strut through the dim club like a supermodel. Looking for your next customer worth your last night. Showing off your cream color bodysuit with pearl beading embellishments and rocking your high ponytail. You were finer than glass wine and everybody agreed.

Your eyes continue to roamed the floor, until it met a familiar backside at the bar. Your smirked to yourself as you knew who it was wearing all black. "So he's finally back." You thought.

Your boss partner Rio decided to show up tonight, after disappearing for a few weeks. Other girls though he might of died or something, but there he was in the flesh.

Suddenly, your plans changed for tonight. It was your last night here and you wanted to do something different. You wanted to take on the challenge girls had going on. Just in time you saw your co-worker Mercedes coming towards you.

" Mercedes come here!" You shouted. She made her way to you. " Look who here ." You told her as nodded your head towards the bar.

She smiled. " I see boss man boss is still around."

"Yeah.... I want in on the bet. $350. Tell the others to match it." You stated.

Everytime Rio will grace the club with his presents it was all business, but after he's done with with our boss, he would just sit at the bar. Not being faze at all of what's going around him. Being mysterious has can be.

So some of the girls will place a bet that they get him to agree to a lap dance, but so far no one has ever succeeded...yet.

" Girl?! $350?! Honey that man done turns everyone who tried down. Just keep your money on this one. He's a hard one." She laughed.

"That's sounds more like a challenge to me. You know make it $500." You liked a challenge and you were ready to win. Pulling the money out your bodysuit and gave it to her.

" You're serious?! Okay sis it's your pockets." She giggled as walked away towards some of the girls counting your money.

You glided you way over to the bar. Making sure everything click of your heels match the rhythm beat as Poledancer by Wale & Megan Thee Stallion began to play.

Workout, workout

I broke up with her, it ain't work out, work out

Oh look, my new work like to workout, workout

She in the mirror tryna workout, like work out

Look, look, look, look, look, look

Poledancer, pole, yeah

You sat next to him, but you could sense he was in the mood. You knew you was going to change that.

You called over the bartender. " Could you get me a shot of vodka and get my friend here another one of what he's having."

Rio glanced at you, finally acknowledging your presence. "So let me guess you next line. You wanna show me a good time, am I'm right?

You couldn't help, but to laugh. "No. Just came over here for a drink and you looked like you needed another one. Plus sugar I have better game than that."

His lips curl into a devilish smirk. " Is that so mama? " The bartender finally drop your drinks in front of both you.

"That it is. Sorry were are my manners. I'm-"

" I know who you are. Y/N. Your one hell of a dancer." Taking his glass bourbon to his lips.

"Oh so you been watching me, huh?" You stated surprisingly after throwing back your shot. You felt you saw him glace at you once or twice when you was up on stage.

"More like up observing my facility and my employees...I noticed your a real crowd pleaser. That's good for business." Yes he did watch you couple of times across the room and he was very impressed with tricks you were capable of doing. Always kept him mind wondering.

He slowly look you up and down. Taking in that little number you was wearing tonight. He couldn't lie it was doing a little something to him.

"Uh huh. So do I get employee month or something? " Your curl you lips to a sly smile.

He let out a deep laugh." Mama don't get head of yourself. There are other girl here that is just as good."

"Baby, I know you ain't never met no bitch like me. I'm the fucking best and don't you forget it Rio." You said as matter of fact.

Your cockiness made Rio take more interest in you as he couldn't get enough. He started the night in a sour mood, but your presence made him relax more." Your talking big game tonight, especially to someone you work for sweetheart."

"Well you got me for tonight, but tomorrow I free agent." You winked at him.

"Uh huh. You right you are leaving. That's ashamed because we really going miss your ass around here... Anyway we should celebrate to your new beginnings mama. Your next drink is on me."

"Or maybe let me give you a lap dance....or you can give me something else?" You flutter your eyelashes and slid your hand down his chest slowly. Until he caught your hand, stopping you almost below his belt.

Pulling you closer to him, he whisper something you could only hear. "I heard you 'bout yo' money, I ain't think you was a freak."

" Well I'm only a freak for my man, who I've been craving for weeks, but I think he'll be okay if I made exception for you." You breathless stated as now your noses were almost touching.

" Is that so? If that case you can demonstrate on me how much you missed your man. The floor is yours." With that you grab his hand in yours and pull him towards the VIP room.

On your way there you could see in the corner of your eyes, Mercedes and other girls watch you in stock. Jaw dropping and all. You turn winked at them. Rio saw this exchange and laughed. " Your not right taking those girl money like that and that's coming from me."

" Hey! The bet said to get you to agree to a lap dance. There no rules said I couldn't know you." You nonchalantly strug your shoulders continuing to the VIP.

Taglist : @breanime @marvelmaree @mauvecherie @blackmissfrizzle @liquorlaughslove

#rio good girls #rio #rio x black!reader

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hufflesmonsters · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings

A/N: hi, just dropping in to say I’m writing again >:D enjoy this slow burn. Also, surprise, it’s not a lizard man story though I do have one in the works so there is that.

~*~*~*~

Torren swung the ax down, splitting the log in two. Sweat beaded his brow as the sun bore down on him. He stuck the ax down in the wood stump and stood, wiping away the sweat with the back of his hand as he looked up at the sky. Just past noon, he’d have to get a move on if he was going to be on time for the kings summon. If he even wanted to take the job, whatever it was. If King Richard the second wished to hire a mercenary, it surely couldn’t be for anything fun. He clearly didn’t want to waste his own men for this, which meant that Torren was likely going to die during his job.

And yet… the money he would get if he lived. He could retire, and finally live his dream of being the towns hermit to its fullest potential. As in, he only ever comes into town on stormy nights to buy ten kegs of ale and disappear for another three months. He grew his own food, hunted his own meat. Of course he kept messing up his tomato plants which meant he had to go into town to get those, but once he can figure it out then mission Hermit was a go.

Stepping back, he grabbed the shirt he had draped over a nearby branch and walked towards his home. It was a nice little shack, one he’d built from scratch back when he was just a young boy. He had found the location by accident really, one minute he was being chased by his elder brothers, the next he was standing in a clearing with a pond and no one in sight for miles. At first it was just a cool hideout, somewhere he could go to get away from his crazy family and village bullies. But over the years he spent more and more time here, fixing it up and expanding the facilities. Next thing he knew he had completely moved in and claimed the land officially as his.

Tossing the shirt on the couch, he walked into his bedroom and opened his dresser. He wasn’t sure what he’d need really, if this was a quick trip, and he hoped it was, he’d only really need two shirts, pants and his washing supplies. He already had his armor on, his swords were already by the door, polished and ready to go. He grabbed the shirts, extra pants, and his bag of supplies and stuffed them into a bag that he could tack onto his horses saddle. He’d grab a small coin purse for food and drink, which should cover him for his trip if he was careful. If he ran out of coin he’d only have to offer to chop wood for inns or something like that.

As he turned to leave, bag in hand, he stopped by the kitchen and grabbed the oat bag for Sweetie. Most of the time she was content to just chew on grass, or even break into gardens and devour everything in sight. But oats, how she loved oats.

The sun glared at him as he exited the house, he stopped briefly to lock it up before continuing down the path to the pasture. He could already see the giant grazing peacefully, black tail flicking away bugs as her dappled gray coat shone silver in the sunlight. She was truly a magnificent horse, holding a presence without even trying. She was a draft horse, one of the few capable of holding a full grown orc. And she was an absolute sweetie, hence, her name.

“Got something for you, Sweetie,” Torren called as he entered the stall part of the pasture, grinning as her large head shot up, ears pointed forward and nostrils flaring. She smelled the oats like sharks smell blood in the water. With a graceful trot, she soon stood in front of him, towering over him by two feet. She bent down and nuzzled his cheek lovingly, snorting into his ear as he tried to shove her away. “We don’t have time to cuddle, girl. The King wants us at the castle by midday tomorrow.”

Sweetie snorted and stood upright again, flank twitching as she moved past him and into the tacking area. She was smart, smarter than most horses he’d met. She waited patiently as he began to saddle her, taking his time to secure the bag and oats in a place where she couldn’t get to it. She was tricksy, especially when it came to oats. But she also knew that those were a night time snack, something that he wouldn’t just give out unless they narrowly avoided death and allowed her to have something to chew on while he fought off a panic attack.

He slid the reins over her head, patting her cheek as she opened her mouth to allow the rod to go in. Once she was fully outfitted, he lead her out of the stalls and closed the doors behind her. He swung up onto her back, and settled in. Gathering the reins, he clicked his tongue and set off down the dirt path that lead into town. The castle wasn’t too far, if he traveled nonstop today he’d be able to make it before midday tomorrow. Talk to the king, get the job done, and they’d be home before they knew it.

~*~*~*~

Reaching the castle, Torren almost turned back around. He’d heard the rumors, how King Richard the second seemed to… overcompensate. The walls around the kingdom were large, but not as large as the damn castle. It towered over everything, almost as if it was a direct challenge to the gods. It was also very, very ugly with its pale brown coloring and lack of windows.

Showing his summons slip to the guards at the gate, he slowly made his way into the kingdom. It was another thing that irked him about King Richard, he was a man with “purist” beliefs. No race other than human was allowed past the walls without a proper invite. There was no trading, or apprenticeship allowed between humans and others. Which raised another red flag about this job offer, why would a king who hates his kind specifically ask him to complete a task for him.

Torren tightened his fist on the reins as he watched the crowd wearily. He was going to die, either here or on this job if he wasn’t careful enough. The townsfolk weren’t bad, they looked more open to him than the guards did, but he didn’t dare interact with them. Not even to the young children who waved at him for the guards were watching him just as closely as he was watching them.

Reaching the palace, he climbed off of Sweetie’s back and handed the reins over to the stable boy, a warning look in his eyes. If they mistreated her, he would rip all of their spines from their backs and beat them to death with it. Torren turned to look at the guards that approached him, back stiff as he towered over them. It was almost laughable, how they escorted him into the palace.

The inside of the castle was just as ugly as the outside, the same beige walls, no decorations whatsoever. Whoever helped the king design this deserved to be publicly executed. Knights stood at every corner, some seemed to be standing at random places the further they got in. It was almost as if someone had just told them to pick a window and stand. The guards increased as they drew closer to the throne room, all of them standing at attention as they stopped in the middle. The guards beside him stood at attention, hands over heart and back straight.

One of the guards announced the arrival of the king, everyone else following in salute. Torren looked up in expectation for the infamous King Richard the Second. Looking, looking, out of confusion, his gaze drew down to the floor when an irritated cough sounded.

Oh, oh gods…

Torren had to physically bite his tongue as he took in the sight of King Richard the second. No wonder the castle was so large and hideous, this man barely stood past a humans waist. He recalled an old nickname for the king, one that was immediately outlawed in the towns surrounding his kingdom. Little Dick Jr, the bane of all of Pufort.

Torren knelt in front of the tiny king before any more offense could be given. And he had a lot to give at this moment in time. “Your grace,” he said stiffly.

“Rise,” came the nasally response. “Do you know why I've called you here, orc?” Dick Jr asked once Torren towered over him again.

“No, m'lord.”

“I am a king without a queen, I'm basically a laughing stock in all the kingdoms!” Torren was willing to put money on it, that wasn't the reason why, but he knew better than to say that. “But there's a princess, locked away in a tower due east. And she will be my bride.”

“And you wish me to retrieve her?” Torren asked for clarification. That didn't sound so hard at all.

“Yes, it's a week’s journey all together, the roads are treacherous, but I'm sure you're no stranger to that,” again, nothing dangerous. “And then of course there's the active volcano and lava surrounding the castle and the dragon guarding it.” Ah, there it is.

“I see, that doesn't sound too difficult for me,” Torren said, lying through his teeth. He could handle bandits, he could even sneak past a fucking dragon. But lava? An active volcano? That was something he'd never experienced before and wasn't too keen on the idea.

“Perfect, we will discuss your payment when you get back. Godspeed, I wish to be married by the end of the month!” Little Dick Jr clapped his hands twice, alerting the guards that he was done talking to the half orc.

Torren bowed his head and turned to make his leave. If he walked fast enough, he could get out of this city by the time the king reached the stairs. The guards had attempted to follow him out, but after they had to literally run to keep up they quit. It wasn't like he was going to do anything anyways.

He eyed the gods awful bust of Dick jr. and contemplated tripping into it…

No, no. Not yet.

~*~*~*~

If there were small miracles, Torren may have found one. Sweetie was in perfect condition when he had retrieved her, granted she had been touched by the stable hands and she made sure to voice her displeasure by biting his shirt and nearly throwing him into a mud pile. Sweetie was a sweetheart up until she had the wrath of the gods placed upon her.

They had made their way out of the kingdom as fast as they could, and Torren was grateful that the guards didn’t give him an official escort out of the kingdom. Though, he had noticed several guards watching him carefully if he lingered too long in an area. Sure, there was traffic, but he was an orc, that was an unforgivable crime don’t you know? He half expected to get harassed when he passed by the front gate guards, but he was uncomfortably surprised to find that they did not.

Oh, he was going to die on this mission. He should have gotten his affairs in order, who was going to take after Sweetie when he was gone? His brothers were half a kingdom away and his neighbors didn’t know he existed. Now, he was realizing as he traversed the hills, it was a bad time to be a hermit. Sweetie was smart though, maybe she’d find a new hermit to adopt and go about her life.

Okay, maybe he should focus on traveling and not his soon to be untimely demise.

Torren had just crested the hill overlooking the neighboring village when a shout came from his right. Looking over, he was wary to see an elf making his way over on his own sturdy steed. The elf seemed friendly enough, though most elves he met rarely stayed friendly. He paused and waited for the elf to approach, keeping a hand on his dagger just in case.

The elf wasn’t bad looking, kind of handsome really if Torren was being honest with himself. Tall, a bit taller than most of the elves he met, golden skin that would make King Midas jealous. Long brown hair braided back in practicality rather than aesthetic, though it was a tad too ornate for pure practicality. He was dressed in simple leathers, with elven embroidery up around the shoulders, partially obscured by the cloak he wore.

“Hail, friend! I see you came from Pufort, a fine accomplishment for those of us considered too “unpure”,” the elf gave a laugh as he settled beside Sweetie. “Gavril, merc for hire,” he introduced himself as he put his hand out.

“Torren,” Torren said as he took the hand and shook it once. A mutual respect was given to the elf, some mercs stuck together, especially those around Pufort. The land wasn’t known for tolerance, mostly the guards fault, and so it wasn’t common to see many mercs who weren’t human. “What brings you to Pufort?”

“Ah, but the king, of course!” Gavril gave the man a bright smile before his smile dropped. “Better to talk here than in the village. Less ears.”

Torren felt his heart drop at the comment, dear gods was this the end? He hadn’t even made it out of Pufort yet! Gods, the amount of fun his brothers would have when they find out that he died in Pufort of all places…

“I can see you’re freaking out, fear not, I am not going to say “long live Dickie”,” Gavril let out a laugh, and Torren didn’t appreciate it, like, at all. “He hired me a month back, and when I disappeared he chose to hire you.”

“And I should believe you, why?” Torren actually did believe him, it was just the dick move that Dickie would pull. But he was a distrustful man by nature, and so grilling the elf it was.

“Why would I lie? Being here in of itself is a death sentence for me if one of his guards spots me,” Gavril shrugged. “No, I felt as if the job was far too… strange for me to complete without the full story.”

“And that story was?” Torren raised a brow as he shifted on Sweetie, who snorted in warning as she grazed.

“The princess, she’s apparently the daughter of the neighboring kingdom, Aster. I did my research and went to them with the information on Richard. They don’t like the idea of an unsavory man such as him “rescuing” their daughter in such an unhonorable way,” Gavril leaned a bit as his voice dropped. “I was riding by, coming back from another business that I had to attend, when I happened to have heard he had another summons, I thought it was only fair to let you know about it all.”

“And what, exactly, are you hoping to inform me of other than the princesses misfortunes?” Torren leaned slightly in despite himself.

“I’m to meet another fellow, a minotaur by the name of Jardor. He was the princess's guard before she was imprisoned so she’d be more trusting of us. Her parents hired me to take her Aster instead of Pufort, and their offer is extended to any other mercenary hired by Richard.”

“And this is legitimate? How do you know they won’t cast you off to Richards' wrath once they have their daughter?”

Gavril nodded as he sat upright. “A fair question, I, myself, found myself doubting it. However, I asked around their former employers and found that they were actually credible. I understand that you have no reason to believe me, but if you are curious you are more than welcome to come with me to meet up with Jardor.”

“And where is he?” Surely a minotaur would be noticeable around a place like Pufort.

“He was smart enough not to come to the welcoming land of Pufort,” Gavril said with a grin. “He’s in Halder’s Rest in the neighboring village, Stonewall, I believe.”

“And you just happened to be riding by Pufort and saw me?” Torren raised a brow as he leaned back.

Gavril let out a soft laugh. “Fair enough, I might have been lingering around to see what the little man’s reaction would have been.”

“How? You couldn’t have been allowed in the city.”

“It’s actually fairly easy to sneak in if you find the really dumb guards,” Gavril said with a smirk. “If you talk fast and use big words to explain away things, they simply just let you in.”

Torren shook his head, “very well. I’ll come with you to this Jardor, but I make no promises that I will join you.”

“Of course,” Gavril gave a bow to his head. “Now, what do you think are the odds that these kind folk will allow us to rest in their undoubtedly comfortable inn?”

“‘Us’?” Torren looked at the elf with furrowed brows. Surely he didn’t think they were going to travel to Halder’s Rest together, did he?

“Yes, ‘us’,” Gavril said with a raised brow. “Surely you didn’t think I’d just abandon you to these unwashed masses, did you?”

“Yes?” Torren wasn’t sure who he pissed off up there, but he was fairly sure he didn’t deserve this kind of forced upon companionship here.

“Oh, my friend,” Gavril gave a sympathetic pout before clapping Torren on the shoulder. “You’re stuck with me.”

Gods help him.

~*~*~*~

Turns out, the good folk were not willing to rent out their plentiful rooms to two distinguished gentlemen like them. So, seeing as the guards started gathering around them once they exited, the duo had opted to camp out on the spacious planes outside of the village. Pro: it was a nice night out with the stars shining bright; con: there were wolves and they very much were eyeing them as a snack.

Luckily for them, the wolves found a rather unfortunate deer and left them alone for the rest of the night. After that, the sleeping got easier, though Torren still kept a hand on his dagger under his pillow. And if he noticed that Gavril did the same with his staff, well, he wasn’t going to be one to talk.

The morning was a tense affair, Gavril had cooked and while it smelt delicious Torren wasn’t one for accepting food from strangers. But his mother also raised a gentleman with manners so he ate anyway. And it pissed him off more that it was, indeed, delicious in all honesty.

They set off not long afterwards, mounting their steeds and making their way to Stonewall, a village that was a good two hours away. Both Sweetie and Torren did their best to ride ahead of Gavril and his steed, Farren, however the two seemed to be professionals Thorn in his Side, for they stayed right on his heels, humming a stupid little song.

Torren really pissed off some of the gods.

But, by the Grace of the gods, they finally made it to Halder's Rest with minimal spats. Or, "character building" in Gavril's mind. The vast difference between Aster's civilians and Pufort's was easily spotted. Where an inhuman was hard to see even just passing through in Pufort, it was hard to not see them in Aster. From vendors, to guards, to just a milk maiden lizard girl.

It felt… welcoming.

"Halder's Rest is just down the road,'' Gavril said as he led Farren though the bustling roads.

Torren let him take the reins, not sure if he should run or not. He had no idea really what sort of situation he was walking into. One kingdom was going to be pissed off, that was for sure. Either Pufort or Aster, and he wasn’t sure which one was better. Aster wasn’t known for its military, sure it had it, but no one had seen it in action in well over a hundred years. They preferred to stay diplomatic in negotiations, and somehow it’s worked so far. And yet, he feared what Aster would do if King Richard the Seconded got his grubby little hands on their daughter.

But another part feared what the King would do to him if he failed to deliver the princess. He wasn’t the first mercenary, and even Gavril admitted he was cheating death when he hung around Pufort waiting for Torren to leave. Pufort was well known for their military power. King Richard was always willing to fling a fleet at a neighboring kingdom, or hell, even his own people, if he felt there was even a hint of offense at him and his legitimacy of his rule.

He should run, Torren realized. Like now, right now-

“Hey, there he is!” Gavril said as he pointed at the minotaur guard that stood outside the inn with his arms crossed. “Jardor!”

Jardor looked up with irritation on his face. He was big, even for a minotaur and just as uniquely colored. Most minotaurs that Torren had come across were either brown or black with white colorations. But Jardor was a multi-colored minotaur, white based but he had russet, black, brown and gray mottled on the skin that was exposed through his armor. His horns were wide and angled high, making him more imposing.

“Stop calling attention to us,” the guard hissed as they drew closer. “You could jeopardize the mission.”

“Oh, please,” Gavril rolled his eyes. “There’s only milkmaids here, it’s not that dangerous.”

“The king could find out and send his fleet,” Torren hissed at the elf.

“Exactly,” Jardor snorted as he shifted his stance. “Our success depends heavily on stealth. Until we deliver the princess back to the capital of Aster, we are not out of the weeds yet.”

Gavril sighed heavily but nodded. “So, are we heading out or is there other business we need to attend to first here?”

“We’ll head out, most of the pleasantries can be exchanged on the road,” Jardor said as he led them to the guards stables and pulled his draft horse out of the stall. As he mounted, Torren surveyed the town. It was a nice place to be, he supposed. But he still preferred his privacy.

“I don’t believe we met,” Jardor said to him as they set out. “I’m the Princesses’ guard, Jardor Stoneskin. And you?”

“Torren Azorrn,” Torren said finally. “Just got hired from the King-”

“-and poached from me once he left,” Gavril interjected with a cheerful grin.

“Yes,” Torren agreed with a heavy sighed.

Jardor snorted and shook his head. “Of course,” he sighed. “I apologize for him, he was supposed to go home and then make his way back here. Though I am glad he did make the detour, I doubt I would have survived the trip with just the two of us.”

Torren found himself smiling as Gavril let out a gasp of mock hurt. “It is nice to have a more level headed company,” he agreed as Gavril mumbled to himself as the two men snickered.

“I will have you two know, I am pleasant company!” Gavril said as he steered his horse next to Sweetie.

“Of course, my friend,” Jardor said evenly with a placating smile. “Of course.”

“Why did you have to return home, anyways?” Torren asked with a raised brow at the elf. He had only mentioned business arrangements, but going home was an entirely different thing “Was that the other business you mentioned earlier?”

“It was,” Gavril said defensively. “I have people at home who were waiting on me, had to let them know I’d be back for good later than anticipated.”

Torren nodded and left it at that, he wasn’t going to judge people for their personal affairs, he knew that if he was still in contact with his own brothers he’d be doing the same. They lapsed into a silence after that, save for the occasional direction change from Jardor the other two were content with just following him. Finally, Torren found himself speaking up. “Jardor, if you’re the princesses’ guard, then why aren’t you with her?”

“Ah, there are two princesses in Aster, the one who is heir to the throne and the second in line should anything happen to the eldest sibling,” Jardor said. “The princess I served was the second in line, though she loathed the whole thing,” he added with a soft smile. “When she was...cursed, I was ordered to stay behind and help protect her sister.”

“So she’s cursed?” Gavril asked with a frown. “You didn’t mention that.”

Jardor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, yes, she’s cursed,” he said stiffly. “The sooner she comes home, I’m sure she’ll be closer to breaking that curse.”

“Isn’t true love usually the factor in those curses?” Gavril asked with a furrowed brow as Torren studied the minotaur.

“Yes, but that is not the case here,” Jardor said with such confidence neither mercenary knew what to do with that.

“So what is this curse?” Torren asked. “Why was she moved to such a remote location, surrounded by lava and a dragon?”

“It was considered necessary by the Throne, it was not my place to question it,” Jardor said stiffly.

“So you did disagree,” Gavril noted. “Which means it likely isn’t a curse, and that makes me so much more intrigued, don’t you feel the same, Torren?”

Torren didn’t comment. But he did note that the minotaur was clearly hiding something, and that made him all the more wary of this job. He should have just stayed home.

“Must you grate on my nerves, elf-boy?” Jardor snapped as he looked at the elven mercenary.

“Ah, elf-boy is actually my younger brother, a cute lad but not nearly as annoying as me, elf-man,” Gavril said with a grin, but it dropped quickly in the wake of a grim expression on his face. “Look, we can deal with a dragon, and even the lava. But if she’s cursed, we need to know exactly what we’re walking into.”

“Nothing dangerous,” Jardor promised, and the two men relaxed just a bit at that. The situation was weird, but Jardor radiated a trusting aura that it was hard to suspect they were walking into a trap. At least for Gavril, Torren always assumed there would be a trap involved when he traveled with others. “Just let me take the lead when we get to the tower, a familiar face will help her.”

“How long has she been locked away?” Torren asked finally.

“Seven years,” Jardor said with a weary look in his eyes, and deeper down, pain. “It’s high time for her to come home.” He nudged his horse, kicking her into a faster gait as they made their way out of Aster and into the wildlands. “That said, we’re a three day journey away from the tower, it’s in a remote part of the country that few travel by. We shouldn’t face any resistance before the volcano.”

“Well then, let’s get ourselves a princess,” Gavril said with a smirk at Torren as he sent Farren barreling after Jardor.

Torren sighed heavily and patted Sweetie’s neck, “let’s get this over with,” he said to her as he nudged her side gently, a gentle permission to run with the other horses, a permission that she gladly took as she galloped next to their two companions. In just three days, he’ll be fighting off a dragon surrounded by molten lava just to rescue a princess. That was the only certain thing he knew about this mission, if there was a curse, if they could get her to Aster before the King found out, if he still was getting paid.

Gods, was he still getting paid?

~*~*~*~

[eye of the tiger blasting]

Jardor kept the lead, forging ahead when Gavril decided that bickering with Torren was a Lovely Idea. Both men, both adult men, were constantly five seconds away from getting into a slapping fight that escalated when Gavril, a four year old apparently trapped in a twenty eight year old's body, claimed that Torren had hit him.

Jardor just let it happen when Torren really did hit him.

Setting up camp was a horrid affair, all three of them were skilled in camping, but those skills had varying degrees. Jardor could put up an excellent tent, but the sleeping cot kept getting tangled and eventually he just laid out on the mess with a stoic resolve. Torren was an expert in putting out his sleeping cot, but his tent kept falling out on one side and eventually he just moved Sweetie over to help keep it propped up with the promises of getting her an extra big bag of oats. And Gavril would put his tent up, but in the process of laying out his sleeping cot the tent would fall. When he’d try to put the cot up first, the tent would fall and he’d have to find his way back out again. And so, in a moment where his remaining two brain cells bumped together, he tied his tent up to the branches of the tree keeping it up and elevated while Torren glared at him from the inside of his lopsided tent that was beginning to smell of horse.

The morning didn’t help anything either.

Torren, used to years of cooking and traveling by himself, had woken up early and made himself, and only himself, a nice breakfast. The other two, woken by the pleasant smell of bacon and the heavenly sizzle of fresh eggs being cooked, came out of their tents with growling stomachs and crushing disappointment when they spotted Torren eating it all by himself. Jardor was disappointed, Gavril was dismayed. The two had to fend for themselves, Jardor splitting a piece of jerky with the elf as they glared subtly in Jardor’s case, and blatantly in Gavril’s.

When they finally set back out again, it was in lesser spirits than the day before. They were less than a day away, according to the smell of sulfur that got increasingly heavier as they traveled on. Gavril could see why no one had rescued the princess prior till now, the lands around the volcano were barren, the roads treacherous by hungry wolves. It was dangerous even for the three of them, he couldn’t imagine a merchant or a lone adventurer braving this land.

Well, maybe Torren.

But everyone else would be fucked.

Jardor let out a soft laugh up ahead and slowed to a stop at the crest of the hill. He glanced back at the two catching up, a light shining in his eyes as he grinned at them. “We’re here,” he announced as the tower, tall and magnificent, loomed below. It wasn’t exactly just a remote tower, Gavril could make out some crumbling structures of a once beautiful palace. He wondered, hoped really, that it was still stable and safe for the princess, surely her parent’s wouldn’t have dumped her into this hell hole if it was unstable. He paused, actually, he’s met some gods awful parent’s. It was a high possibility. But that was neither here nor there, the tower was still far enough away, but they would arrive there within the hour if they paced themselves. They still couldn’t spot the dragon, and none of them were willing to go head on against a fucking dragon.

Torren opened his mouth to speak, to ask what the plan was in case the dragon reared its head. But before he could utter a single word, a horn sounded from behind them. The three turned on their steeds to watch as a troop of soldiers made their way towards the tower, banners flying high, and armor glittering in the sunlight.

Pufort.

"Fuck," Gavril said with pursed lips.

Fuck was right.

~*~*~*~

Princess Amirah was absolutely, and positively bored. She had nothing else to paint, unless Harold suddenly changed their mind about her painting his scales. She’s run dramatically through the hallways a dozen times this morning, and really she wasn’t feeling it for a thirteenth time. All the books have been read, a countless amount of times. At this point she could quote the books and she did, constantly, to Harold as they cleaned their teeth from their meal each night. Harold never spoke as to whether or not they enjoyed it, but she assumed they would have put an end to it by now if they didn’t.

She sighed heavily as she paced her room, paint brush in hand as she tried to figure out a new canvas. There was still some room on the window sill, maybe even the dresser if she painted small enough. She paused by the open window, the smell of sulfur no longer bothered her as she breathed it in. She barely remembered the smell of fresh, clean air. Or the sound of bustling streets, the maids coming in with sweet hushed words, her mothers hugs…

Amirah shook her head and smacked her cheek chastisingly with her paint brush. No, no thoughts like that, she’s survived seven years without those things, she can survive many more. In all honesty, she probably could leave. It wasn’t like anyone was going to come looking for her of all the princesses in this unholy tower. They were more likely to go for the skinny blonde overlooking the ocean than her. Which was fine, she was the second born princess of Aster, her sister was always considered the prettiest, the fairest, the princess that all should aspire to be.

Amirah made it her mission to defy that expectation. She hated the princess duties that her mother and sister had forced her to attend. She hated the expectations that were expected of her as the second in line to the throne. To marry a neighboring kingdom, to secure an alliance between the two. To have their heirs and continue the bloodline. It all made her squeamish honestly. In a perfect life, she wouldn’t mind marrying and settling down on her own terms with someone that she truly loved. But she didn’t have the perfect life, she had her mothers expectations and her sister's legacy.

She was honestly safer in the tower than back home.

A strange sound filled the air, and a frown pulled at her lips as she looked off outside. She adjusted her glasses as another horn sounded, a horn of all things. Why would a horn be here, who was blowing the damned thing. They were going to wake Harold up!

Leaning out the window, Amirah let out a gasp as banners crested over the hill. Banners that belonged to Pufort, the kingdom ruled by King Richard. In the distance, she spotted three men charging ahead of the group, and hope glittered in her heart as she spied familiar horns. Was Jardor really here? She didn't know who the other men were, or what she assumed were male honestly she knew some beefy female knights, oh gods was Clarissa here? That would truly make her day.

Before she could speculate, however, a loud roar filled the air and shook the ground. Clinging to the wall, Amirah looked up in slight fear. She knew that roar, and what it meant. A challenge, anyone who wanted her, had to go through them.

May the Divines bless their poor souls.

#exophilia #orcs #elves #minotaurs #orc boyfriend #elf boyfriend #god i havent posted in so long i forgot how to tag akdjskjrfjew #ok #this is gonna be a SLOW BURN POLYCULE #with a fourth wheel who is there for the clusterfuck #guess who is who this week on WHEN WILL HUFFLES CONTINUE THIS #lmao #kidding I have chapter two in the works bitches #my mental health is questionable but waking up at 4 am now has it merrits #you aren't ready for the concoctions i have in store #edited this bc I forgot that google docs doesn't trasfer to tumblr like it does on ff.net #my writing #sfw

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