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galaxygirl8880 · 2 years

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My original draft:

'Cale notices scars that he had as Rok soo are popping up on his body and takes a potion to hide them every few weeks (months?) He forgets to refill his supply because of a battle, or someone removes the potion effects mid battle and he has to explain after. (He says it in a way that makes it seem like he doesn't like how he looks and then everyone feels bad and are like "you don't have to hide from us young master :(" and Cale's still iffy about it so he gets Ron to pick up his refill's anyways and Ron is like "you're making this old man sad" so Cale is like "... I won't take them as often anymore just give me them pls")'

And what I wrote ⇩⇩⇩

---

"..Young master?"

".... Please get out"

'This is an odd situation, I don't smell any blood...'

Right now, Ron is standing in Cale's room staring at the bundle of blankets where Cale would normally be sleeping. Instead the lights and curtains have been closed and turned off while Cale refuses to turn and look at him.

"What's wrong? Are you injured or not feeling well?"

'Even if he was sick, this is still very odd behavior..'

Ron took a light step forward and paused when a small whirlwind shot across the room and picked up a pen and sheet of paper.

When the paper got back to the shifting bundle of blankets, there was a soft sound of a pen writing on paper.

Ron walked forward until he was at the edge of the bed and sat down. The blanket pile flinched.

Cale shifted the blankets and shot out a hand towards Ron, holding a folded piece of paper in between two fingers. Ron didn't miss the three obvious scars on the small bit of Cale's exposed arm and quickly grabbed his wrist instead of the paper.

With a surprising amount of strength, Cale snatched his wrist back into the blanket and pulled them closer to his body.

"Get. Out."

"Young Master-"

Ron didn't get to finish his sentence because another, much larger, whirlwind picked him up and placed him down outside of the room.

Only when he heard the door slam behind him and a soft 'click', did he react. The slip of paper from before was in between his uniform jacket and shirt.

Ron didn't have time to be amused about how the puppy was getting confident because of the overwhelming worry that drowned it out.

'I've helped change and bathe him many times and I have never seen those before'

The scars looked old. That was an undeniable fact. But why cover his entire body?

He takes out the slip of paper, and begins to read it.

It was the name of a shop, the location, and an order number..

Ron huffs out a breath and begins to walk, intending on going to said shop.

If one looked closely enough, you would be able to notice worry in the usually neutral face of his.

---

(A/N: Haha, how am I doing so far :D?)

---

*Knock knock*

"Young Master, I have returned with your order"

Ron is once again standing in front of Cale's door, although this time he's there with the two cat tribe members that were adopted taken in by Cale.

"We tried getting in earlier but he told us to leave~"

"It was very weird of him" they both complained.

"Did you, per chance, see him at all?"

"No Nya"

"Nope!"

Ron suddenly noticed some faint shuffling from the other side of the door. Then, a soft 'click' and the door opened.

"Hand it over please"

"Young Master, May I ask what you need potions for?"

There was a noticable pause before a sigh was heard and was accompanied by a low, defeated 'just get in.'

Ron quickly moved inside the room with the bag of potions and the kittens on his shoulders. When the three moved to look at Cale on the bed, they were shocked.

Cale, instead of his usual red locks, had streaks of black accompanying them on his head. That wasn't the most shocking part, what made the kittens gasp and Ron's eyes widen were the sheer amount of scars covering his body.

Cale, to his credit, didn't look as phased but Ron took note of how his pupils shook and his hands move to shift the blanket up to his shoulders.

The kittens wordlessly jumped off of Ron's shoulders and hopped up onto Cale's lap and shoulders and cuddled him. ( 'they're shaking, do I... look that bad?')

Ron gave him a look, which he responded with a flinch and slight nod. Cale gently nudged the kids off of him and stood up in front of Ron. Ron immediately began unbuttoning his white shirt and the air was.. tense.

When his shirt was off, on flinched and Hong gave a small whimper. To say they felt bad would be an understatement, they felt horrible. How had he gotten injured this much? There were... a lot.

"The potions.."

"I use them to hide.. this."

Ron skillfully buttoned his shirt back up and took the bag before Cale could get to it.

At his questioning glance, Ron went back to his usual self (his knuckles were white under his gloves).

"How often do you need to take them, Young Master?"

"Uh- Once a week. Its supposed to be every day but I take enough to last a week"

"..Right. I'll take these and start serving them around your afternoon tea time." Ron took a bottle with an orange liquid and placed it on his bedside table.

['Cale, why didn't... Why didn't you tell us..?'

'...'

'..I didn't want you to be afraid.'

They all slept closer together that night. (Raon was very confused because he spent the day with his mom)]

---

@neominthe I saw your post and had a similar idea so this was slightly inspired by your art :>

(Also I'm kind of proud! I probably could have ended it better but oh well- tag me if you write something to go along with this pls (◕ᴗ◕✿)

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s0ulsniper · 1 year

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Requests !!

ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩

For all of my fanfictions all of these I state can be requested.

- one piece (live action characters until I finish the anime)

- spiderverse (literally anyone)

- deathgasm

- metal lords

- Scream (any except for 5&6, will add when I've watched them Ó⁠╭⁠╮⁠Ò)

- The umbrella academy (+cast)

- Marvel (most characters to an extent.)

-Wednesday (+cast, characters mostly only the students.)

-TMNT (please tell me which version)

-Avatar the last Airbender

-Albert aretz (Flamingo)

-Criminal minds (maybe cast also, depends on who.)

-Haikyuu (almost everyone.)

-Guns n roses, Metallica, Megadeth.

-Your boyfriend / girlfriend / crush.

-Death note (almost everyone)

-Moon knight (+Oscar Issac if just saying marvel wasn't enough to so specify)

-Arcane (almost everyone)

-Hunter x hunter

-Cobra Kai (modern and old.)

-Gotham

Please tell me if there are people you would like but you don't see on the list ! I'm sure I was stupid and forgot a couple, but I'll try to get everyone.

If you would like me to add any more prompts, please comment.

‼️ You do not need to use the prompts to request! But please at least give a brief description of what you want. ‼️

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩*ੈ✩‧₊˚*

PROMPTS:

1.) "I will never stop protecting you"

2.) "It's so hard to sit here close to you and not kiss you."

3.) "I can braid your hair for you- I mean only if you want to."

4.) "Dance with me, please?"

5.) "How mad would you be if I kissed you right now?"

6.) "You are worth waiting for. So when you're ready, I'll be here."

7.)"I promised I'd love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep."

8.)"If there was anybody meant for me, it's you."

9.) "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

10.) "Did you just tell the person I was gonna go out with that were dating?"

11.) "You got me breakfast?" "Well you said you always forgot to eat before work so I thought I'd make sure you ate something."

12.) "No no– it's alright, come here."

13.) "What? Does that feel good?"

14.) "Nope, I'm not letting you go. It's too early to get out of bed."

15.) "Your hair is so soft…"

16.) "C'mere, you can sit on my lap until I'm done working."

17.) "It's too cold ! Come back !"

18.) "I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention."

19.) "Shh, you're safe. I won't ever let you go."

20.) "Just pretend to be my date."

21.) "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

22.) "It's not a double date, we're just third and fourth-wheeling."

23.) "Close the door."

24.) "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

25.) "Watch me."

26.) "We could get arrested for this."

27.) "Why are you helping me?"

28.) "I thought you were dead."

29.) "If I could, I would kiss away all your scars."

30.)"Mmm. You're warm."

31.) "I think I might be falling in love with you."

32.) "You're so cute when you're half asleep like this."

33.) "Shh… it was just a bad dream. None of it was real, I'm here with you."

34.) "No, you can't get up! You're my prisoner for today."

35.) "It's not bad to cry, in fact I think that makes the person stronger."

36.) "Touch them, and you're dead."

37.) "Put the knife down, I'm not going to hurt you."

38.)"We're not alone."

39.) "Keep your eyes closed and don't make a sound."

40.) "How many times have I told you already? Sit still !"

41.) "Is that my shirt?"

42.) "Is that a drawing of me?"

43.) "Quick, kiss me!"

44.) "They're not you."

45.) "You look better in my clothes than I do."

46.) "You sure you wanna do this?"

47.) "We can take things slow."

48.) "I'm gonna remember this for a while."

49.) "You're doing so good."

50.) "Do you wanna make out?"

51.) "Teach me how to do it."

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩*ੈ✩‧₊˚*

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danwhobrowses · 8 months

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One Piece Chapter 1093 - Initial Thoughts

And we are back A week removed from last chapter for a change, it's been a long while

July in fact, 1088 and 89, well 1085 to 89, since then it was consecutive breaks until now.

An Admiral is in the clutches of a Yonko, a giant is awakening and the forcefield is about to go down, so what's next? I'll tell you what's next, the chapter

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release too

Koby and Helmeppo on the cover, tarsiers (those really big eyed tiny monkey things) wearing their glasses

Picking up where we left off with Luffy holding Kizaru

Oh man's is winding up for some tit for tat

Man went from throwing lightning to throwing light

The group plan to leave Kizaru to Luffy, but Atlas plans to go down to the fabriophase

It sounds like death flags even if she's there to outrank the authority chip regarding the Mark IIIs

Really reminding you that there is indeed one person in the vicinity of Egghead who can in fact outrank the Vegapunks

Stella wants to come too

Usopp does make a point in that it is counterproductive for Stella to go down to the people who want him dead when they're trying to keep him alive

He calls Franky to confirm that Bonney got knocked off too - also reprimanding him for not protecting Bonney from an admiral who moves at the speed of light

Franky wants to go down to help Bonney, as does Sanji who is with Jinbe stocking up an area, so it's gonna be a big group split

Bonney's presence is noticed by the marines though, as she does leave a path of old and young in her wake

No legging below the lower cheeks but she still gets a hoodie

The Marines have found Sentomaru too

Oh, Sentomaru caught Bonney from falling, that's a chad move

Luffy spots Zoro fighting Lucci too

Zoro denies help though, telling him to focus on Kizaru

Seems that Zoro gauges Awakened Lucci as something he can handle, as he should I mean he is over 1 billion berries

Lucci meanwhile is hoping to get the Yonko No. 2 as a consolation prize so I need this guy to get the Bob Barker treatment (not him dying, the 'neuter your pets' thing)

Also it seems Zoro's pretty chill about seeing Gear Fifth Luffy...

Back with Kizaru and he's about to hit the ocean - Luffy did yeet him pretty far away

The dude can just float above the sea it seems, I mean he is light so he is - pun intended - a wave

He preps his retort with his scatter beam attack

Ah but rather than blasts he has made them all into Kizarus, he's gone full kage bunshin, or would it be hikari bunshin?

He also uses the light sword, scratching Luffy

Dawn Whip passes through the Kizarus, confirming them to be holograms (though surely they're still extensions of his body right? Idk maybe because it's light and not Smoker's smoke or Robin's doubles/giant naked kaiju it applies differently)

Not Luffy running away from the speed of light

He lines up the Kizaru's for a Dawn Stamp, but his foot passes through them all

It might be scanlations but there is 'Booming' in these names so I wonder if there's something to that compared to his moves against Lucci

An explosion makes Luffy realise that Kizaru wasn't even near him through all this, as he has Usopp in his clutches with Nami and Brook on their guard

Bit odd that, Kizaru did a whole thing with Saturn about fighting Sentomaru directly because they resolved to do it, but Luffy resolves to fight Kizaru and he quietly tries to shuffle to the side to try and kill Vegapunk

Of course, Stella isn't there to his surprise

Punk is already off on his wheels, and no respect for the tube tunnel this time

Sanji has also hitched a ride on the side of the Vega Tank 8

Stella's got a face of fury aimed at the marines, he's very focused on saving Bonney

Unfortunately that means he's blind to Kizaru aiming at him

Luffy jumps in and takes the blow, well eating the...nope not gonna finish that sentence...turning into a human jack o lantern

As a glowing god of Luffy shines out, Franky also hitches a ride on the Vega Tank 8, leaving General Franky to Lilith to move the Sunny

News is breaking that the Punks are coming down, but Atlas uses it to command the Mark IIIs to 'eradicate' every last marine

Bit of a strong word Atlas, though she is Vegapunk's personification of violence

Ominous Saturn is Ominous and will likely overrule Atlas

Oda I was literally just praising the fact that it's the first time since June-July we've not had frequent breaks and what do you do? Breaks. More Breaks. What's your address I just want to talk and shadow and marvel and ask as many questions as there are chapters...

But I also want to ask WHERE IS ROBIN? Her absences is becoming more alarming and concerning

It was another fun chapter, it's always fun to see Gear Fifth Luffy fight, it's always so silly but Kizaru may be a perfect opponent for him because he's aloof to the point of silly.

Kizaru does still confuse me though, his clones were unaffected by Haki but light is an extension of his body, when Smoker surrounded Vergo in smoke it still damaged him, when Robin makes clones of herself it's unclear if the damage stacks because sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't. It's a small thing but still confusing, and the fact that he tried to dodge Luffy after his resolve about Sentomaru is still weird, can never quite pinpoint his character.

I still feel however that Lucci needs to be humbled, he probably won't since Zoro does seem to have the King of Hell swirls on his swords but still in no department should Lucci be Yonko commander level. What if Hattori just turns into another hulking zoan, like a Tiger, or a Bear or a Gorilla...actually not a Gorilla, not with the minority hunter joke.

But the sidequest to retrieve Bonney makes sense, kinda. Stella going down makes it a wrinkle but Sanji will at least get his righteous chivalry moment probably saving Bonney. I do hope we get something for Franky, they took his mech so the only tools he'll have is whatever Vegapunk has lying around, so there is opening for Franky to finally get some Egghead shine. Kinda hope we pull Sentomaru out too he deserves a little add to the stocks for saving Bonney. We do have to prepare ourselves for Saturn overruling the Punks' orders, perhaps even bringing the Seraphim back into play, but also bringing the sleeping giant into play too because we got nothing out of that cliffhanger, same with Kuma.

I also reiterate that we need 100% more of safe and healthy Nico Robin in these chapters, you're putting us on edge Oda let the woman have screentime and doing something, even if it's downloading all the info from Ohara that Shaka had. Because he was chatting with the Revolutionaries about anticipating his death, you think he would've made precautions? Jinbe, Chopper, Nami, Usopp and Brook could do with something too, for Chopper he will likely have to tend to Stussy but still, gotta make the whole crew show up to the marine blockade. It's also worth reminding that Caribou is on the fabriophase, the dude does like to swipe a hostage like Vegapunk, plus there is still that Blackbeard ship.

But we have another break to simmer on Luffy being a human lamp, I imagine that may become merchandising at some point.

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depressedhatakekakashi · 1 year

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Roommates Au

Yamato could handle a lot of things.

He happily put up with Kakashi constantly bullying him and even accepted that Gai would wake up every morning at five am just to go for a run.

Five of his precious plants had been lost over the years because Kakashi’s dog’s kept eating them, and still Yamato kept his calm.

The living space was too good to give up over small things that he could handle, but Yamato had finally reached his limit.

“I’m moving out,” he declared in the middle of breakfast one morning, causing Kakashi and Gai to stop what they were doing and stare at him. “There’s a nice apartment just down the street that’s available. I can still come over for game nights every sunday, but I think it’s time for me to move on.”

Kakashi stood beside the coffee machine, a piece of toast hanging from his mouth. Beside him, Gai stood with his coffee mug in hand and a concerned look on his face.

“Have we done something to upset you, Yamato?” Gai asked while Kakashi began chewing his toast so slow that Yamato wondered if he’d taken tips from Ningame on how to enjoy his food longer.

“You got naked together,” he answered without pause, sighing when Kakashi began to choke on his food. “Twice.”

Furrowing his brows, Gai opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, though, Kakashi finished finished his bite of toast. “You weren’t complaining the first time around.” He commented, earning himself a glare from Yamato. “What? You asked us to keep it down and we did.”

“You did,” Yamato agreed, thankful he hadn’t been forced to hear the two of them the next time he walked into the room. “But then you decided round two was going to be in the kitchen.”

A fact he had been unlucky enough to discover as he walked in with a bowl of salad in hand and a desire to eat so strong that he hadn’t even stopped to check if anyone else was in the room.

A mistake he would never repeat.

“If you’re holding that against us, what about the couch incident?”

Yamato shivered at the reminder. He hadn’t intended to end up naked on the couch with Iruka, and he certainly hadn’t planned on his friends walking in on him while Iruka was blowing him.

Still, that didn’t feel like a sufficient reason for them to defile the kitchen the way they had. They ate there for goodness sakes.

Yamato wasn’t fond of having to worry about what had been on the counter he was cutting food on.

“It’s for the best.”

“You’re not leaving.” Kakashi declared with far too much confidence for Yamato’s liking.

“I am.”

“Nope,” stuffing his toast back into his mouth, Kakashi continued chewing on it while he retrieved his phone from his jacket pocket.

With a few quick taps on his phone screen he smiled triumphantly as Yamato’s ring tone rang through the air. The sweet sound of ‘return policy’ by Lady A alerting him to a new text message.

“Your choice in ring tones is… interesting,” Gai snickered while Yamato dug his phone out of his pocket. “Do you have a special ring tone for everyone?”

“Just the jerk I call Senpai,” Yamato grumbled under his breath. Opening up his messages he gave Kakashi’s newest text a quick read and narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” Kakashi dared. “You know what I’m capable of. Think it over and decide for yourself if I’d follow through.”

He would.

Kakashi was the kind of ass hole who always followed through with his threats. He would make up for any emotional damage afterwards by paying for dinner, or letting Yamato yell at him for three hours, but he always did what he said he would.

“I hate you..”

“You love me,” Kakashi corrected him. “And you love that fact that I’m going to get you some sound proof walls.”

His ears perked up at the sound of that. “Is that a promise?”

“It is,” Kakashi confirmed. “It’s good for everyone’s sanity. You don’t want to hear us.”

“I would prefer not to, yes.”

“And i would rather not hear Iruks screaming your name the next time you have him over.”

“Senpai!”

“He is a bit of a screamer,” Gai hummed. “I remmember when I had him over-“

“Please, do not finish that sentence,” dropping his phone down onto the table, Yamato slouched in his chair. “I’m never going to escape this place am I?”

“Not until the day you die.” Kakashi confirmed with a smile that made Yamato wants to punch him in the face.

#Hatake Kakashi #Yamato #Maito Gai #KakaGai #Mentioned YamaIru #Yamato is not ok #it’s bully Yamato hours 24/7 #kakashi has that sign somewhere up in the house and it takes all of Yamato’s strength to refrain from tearing it down XD #Gai’s Birthday month #Kakashi is also a nice dude #but Yamato is still so very tired #XD #this ended up being a bit more Yamato and Kakashi whoops #Tw: Suggestive

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nyxlaufeyson · 10 months

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Zappy goes Zap

Main Masterlist - Marvel Oneshots - Loki Oneshots

POV: Third

Ship: Nothing mentoined. Includes Tony & Original Fem Character and Loki & Original Fem Character

Type: Fluff!

Wordcount: 809

TW: None

Synopsis: A scientist at Avenger's tower creates a new robot.

Day 8 of AU-gust*: "Robots & Androids" * Not entirely sure if this even counts as an 'AU' since she's an OC, but whatever it's an AU because I ignored cannon.

A/N: I love entering my OCs into different universes it's so fun! Hope you enjoy. :)

“Whatcha working on there, Buzz?” Tony asked, walking over to Buzzy, who was immersed in her work. Startled, she jumped up from her spot, grabbing a screwdriver and pointing it towards Tony in defense. “Woah there, Buzz, it’s just me.”

Once she realized her visitor was Tony, and not some scoundrel, she relaxed a bit, dropping the screwdriver on her workbench. “Just a new bot. Named this one Zappy, because of all the sparks he’s thrown my way while working on ‘em.”

Buzzy patted her project on her desk, smiling proudly. In her smile, you could see that she had a gap on her top row of teeth, where she had accidentally knocked a tooth or two out while working.

“What’s he for?” Tony asked, examining the robot in front of him. The bot was made from several different materials, giving it a unique look. While one might not see the bot as more than pieces of scrap, Buzzy liked the look. She thought it gave Zappy more style than most modern robots.

“He’s a patrol bot. My goal for him is to have him roam around somewhere, then scan his surroundings with this little thing,” She pointed to a camera on the bot, “And he will report any malicious acts back to us.”

Tony nodded, scratching his beard as he considered the idea. “So, similar to what I was doing with Ultron?” He asked, a bit concerned since the last time he attempted a public safety robot, it didn’t go so well.

“Nope. While Zappy is intended to increase public safety, he won’t be equipped with anything to fight. He just will alert us, or local authorities depending on what’s going on. He couldn’t do anyone harm.” Buzzy assured, before tilting her head as she changed her mind. “Unless he happened to blow up. That would probably hurt.”

Tony raised his eyebrows, but Buzzy shook off the hypothetical. “Of course, he will be going through many more tests before he goes out into the city. So, if he does blow up, it’ll only blow us up.”

Tony rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead. “How reassuring.” Buzzy smirked, and pulled her safety goggles back down on her face.

“Wanna see me run some tests?” She asked Tony, while someone else walked into the room. When Buzzy saw who it was, she narrowed her eyes. “Uh-uh horns, hair up in my lab. You know the rules.”

Buzzy grabbed a hair tie-for she always had several on hand-and tossed it to Loki, who rolled his eyes before reluctantly pulling his hair up into a ponytail with a huff.

“What are you working on?” He asked, walking up to Buzzy and Tony. Buzzy just smiled, tapping her fingers against the workbench.

“Wanna find out?” She asked, and before Loki could answer, she pointed over to the bucket where she kept her safety goggles. “Get a pair. You too, Tony.”

After Loki and Tony had successfully secured their safety goggles, Buzzy began to make some last-minute adjustments to Zappy. “Tony, can you hand me the RJ45 over there?”

Tony grabbed the connector, handing it to Buzzy as she finished up before flipping a few switches on the bot and on a controller. “Ideally, we would have him operate on his own, but that will take a bit more programming,” She explained, “So for now I’m just going to use this controller.”

Buzzy set Zappy on the ground, giving him a good-luck pat before she took a step back. “Here goes.” She whispered, starting to move the controls.

At first, the robot did exactly as she wanted, moving in its intended direction with each pull of the controller’s joystick. “Loki, pretend to stab Tony.”

Loki smirked, while Tony looked terrified. “Wait, what?” He said, as Loki summoned a dagger and held it up to Tony. Buzzy stepped out of the way, allowing the robot to scan the pair behind her.

The robot made a few noises, before sending an alert to Buzzy’s computer. “Yes!” She said, but before she could go to switch the robot off, a loud bang knocked her, Tony, and Loki to their feet.

Buzzy slowly sat up, coughing as she waved her hand to attempt to clear the smoke around her. She heard Tony and Loki groan as they got up as well.

Buzzy frowned as she looked at the pile of metals that had once been Zappy. Tony and Loki weren’t sure what to say, so they began to offer their condolences for the bot.

“It’s fine.” She said, waving her friends off as she grabbed a pair of gloves and picked up the pile of scraps, laying them back on her workbench. “He started from this, so he can be rebuilt.” Buzzy said, confidently.

“Hopefully, this time, you’ll be able to prevent it from blowing us all up.”

A/N: BTW There's always a chance for an OC I make a oneshot or something for to return in the future, so always be on the lookout!

Tag list (Tell me if you want to be added/removed and what you would like to be added/removed for!): @anukulee @mischief-dream @iceeericeee

#fanfic #marvel #loki #loki oneshot #marvel fanfic #Marvel fluff #avengers #Loki & Original Female Character #tony stark #marvel oneshot

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unforth · 1 year

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I managed to completely forget I posted goals on Tumblr last January (I knew it was on a Discord, where I was pointedly ignoring it since...yeah. well. about that.) but I found it while looking for something else, and I might as well take a glance back.

Goals I set for 2022:

Personal Goals from 2022:

Get My Back Fixed: victory, to the extent that victory was possible. I had back surgery on Feb 7th, and that fixed the primary issue (spinal stenosis caused by a herniated disc). My arthritis still exists and flares every couple months but my doc already told me that's just gonna be the rest of my life. Since that part isn't fixable...well, at least the surgery helped.

Keep Losing Weight: I was up and down throughout the year, and ended up pretty much exactly where I started, at about 180.

Exercise: I maintained a regular stretching/exercise regimen, including a fair amount of walking and even a little jogging, from March through November. I slipped in November, but I started again last week, so...yeah.

Study Chinese: almost 100% success! At least I didn't fall down in every regard, lmao. I study for about 45 minutes every day, across 3 apps. I finished Duolingo's core curriculum and have a streak of over 450 days going atm. I bought a year subscription to DuChinese so I could practice reading and it's really helping my vocabulary. I didn't manage to do much of any translation but eh, I'll take it.

Community Goals from 2022:

Encourage Others to Create: I ran May Trope Mayhem again, and really stepped up the creation/publishing end of my business. I'll take it. I didn't manage to do anything with the kink memes and I've been waffling on just shutting them down tbh.

Keep Up the Destiel Archive: basically a complete fail. Like, the archive still exists and I answer asks and DMs and send people stuff but I've done basically zero upkeep/expansion/work on it.

Duck Prints Press: we managed 3 anthologies (two are technically not published yet but they will be in like a week and a half and all the work was done in 2022 so I'll count it). We didn't manage a novel, but we did publish a novella and like 20 short stories, so I'll call it a win.

Creative Goals from 2022:

Post Every Day: I managed about two weeks, and haven't written anything for myself since June, so yeah, uh. Yeah.

Work on WIP: nope

Make Progress on The Long Road: ...I thought about it on and off, does that count?

Post One Art Piece a Month: I might have technically actually succeeded at this? but not in way I know I intended when I set the goal and honestly, whatever.

Fibercraft: I didn't manage to cosplay anything - we don't really have the money - but I've definitely been doing fibercraft. I did a mess of crocheting last winter (and need to finish those projects now that it's cold again), and I did a lot of cross stitch over the summer and fall, and I'm currently working on a quilted wall hanging, so. Yeah. I'd call this one a success.

So...definitely a mixed bag. My kids ended up needing a lot more of me than I was expecting, especially over the summer and fall when I'd expected things to ease up, so that didn't help. And the business growing is just eating the entire rest of my life. I've definitely semi-intentionally decided to give up on some of the side projects and step back. Like, I don't like that I'm not doing anything on the Destiel archive, but I've basically come to accept it and I don't expect it to change. In my post last year, I wrote "I sacrificed a lot of my personal creative goals to make the business a success and ya know, I'm basically okay with it." And that really resonates, cause I'd absolutely say the same thing is true of this year. The business IS doing well - we earned more money than last year, and from far more diversified sources. I didn't earn enough to take a paycheck...again...but we're also less in the hole for 2022 than we were for 2021, and it really truly feels like things are moving in a good direction and that the work I'm putting in is accomplishing something. 2023 looks bright in that regard.

I'm honestly trying to move away from big declarative ambitious goals. They just make me feel like I've failed. So I haven't put tons of thought into my 2023 beyond "keep doing the things I'm doing that are working, and try to add in a few things that I haven't been succeeding at but would like to. So, with this entire post plus that in mind, my goals for 2023 are...

Personal Goals

Continue Exercising: I slipped on exercise in November and December. It was definitely doing me good before that so I'd like to keep it up. My goals for a while have been 10 to 20 minutes of stretching/Yoga/floor exercises 5 or 6 days a week, and a minimum of 2,000 steps a day every day, and I hit that very consistently until mid-November, so I think I can resume it now that the holidays are over and the kids are heading back to school on Wednesday.

Study Chinese: just. keep it up. I'd really like to work on a translation project this year. I've been eyeing the Tian Guan Ci Fu manhua (I own volume one in print), continuing my translation of the 2ha manhua (which is online), and/or poking at the Lie Huo Jiao Chou manhua, which is on the Bilibili app and has been taunting me from my favorited comics for ages. But if I just spend another year like I spent 2022, drilling HSK 1 through 3 until I've got them down pat and continuing the slow vocab expansion through DuChinese, I'll take it. It's getting the job done.

Community Goals

Figure out what to keep up and what to step back from: I really haven't been able to do a good job on everything, and I've put some balls down and can't say I'm terribly interested in picking them back up. I'd like to make more of that official in 2023, so I don't feel like I'm being pulled in as many directions, and so that the changes feel intentional and therefore More Okay instead of semi-accidental and accepted with resignation.

Art Sideblog Goals: I'm pretty behind on maintenance of cnovelartreblogs especially; I'd like to really get that organized, and to finally launch the Discord I've been building on-and-off for almost a year. I'd also like to get my backlog of things to blog under 10k, but honestly that's probably ambitious. I had it down a lot this year, but it's surged up since the twitterpocalypse and the holidays (though I'm still well ahead of where I was at the start of 2022, so that's something).

Duck Prints Press:

have 4 anthologies in the works (we already have two in the works for 2023; I expect those two to publish, and I'd like us to have 2 more in the pipeline even though they likely won't publish until 2024)

publish at least 52 short stories (a minimum of one a week)

publish at least 4 novels (I've got two in progress so I'm pretty optimistic on this one)

$40k+ in gross earnings

take a paycheck (even if it's only for royalties on sales of my own work)

publish one story a month of my own work

Creative Goals

Read 12 Books for Leisure: I set this goal in 2022 and while I technically hit it (Goodreads says I read like 70-something books), I only actually read 11 novel-length books because I wanted to. The rest was either manhua, or stuff I read for the Press. So, I've set my Goodreads goal as 72 works, with the understanding that at least 52 will be those short stories I'll edit, and I'm also considering signing up for a book bingo that a friend participates in on Dreamwidth. I don't think I'll have trouble meeting this goal tbh; even if I just read the Seven Seas danmei pubs, which I absolutely intend to, I'll probably hit it (considering I'm several volumes behind on both MDZS and TGCF...). Even if I don't, I'll be close like last year.

Write Something Each Week: I made a list of prompts for myself and ships I want to write for, and I want to try to write something for each prompt each week (in whatever order). Even if I don't finish a single one of them. Even if I hate it all. I just want to keep going on it. I also want to write one short story suitable for publication each month, probably pwp kink fic. (Week 1 is Hualian/were-creature, and I did work out an idea I don't hate...)

Fibercraft: I started blankets for the kids last winter; I'd like to finish at least one of them. And just. Keep making things. It's good for my brain. Much better than the like 6 weeks I spent this year rotting my brain with Merge Dragons at night. *sweat drop*

Anyway, I wouldn't say any of these are resolutions, since most of it is stuff that's already going on. It's really more "I've got the boat sailing the direction I want, now let's just...keep that up..."

Also, it'd be really nice to not be fucking exhausted all the time. That'd help. Just saying. *weary sigh*

#unforth rambles

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burnwater13 · 11 months

Text

Grogu agreed with Bo-Katan. Mandalorians are stronger… wait a minute.

Knock, knock. Knock, knock.

Hello. Grogu here. I just wanted to break the fourth wall for a minute and say, what the heck! I’ve told you stories about Bo-Katan a bunch of times and frankly, I don’t have anything else to tell you. I’m done. Finished. Out of insights. The best I can say right now, is you know as much about her as I do, unless I give you a bunch of spoilers and frankly, there are a lot of people who would be very peeved with me if I did that. So I won’t.

Now, since it’s just the two of us chatting, I’m going to add a couple of other important bits and pieces of knowledge to your understanding of how things work. First and foremost, I am not called Baby Yoda. Sorry. Nope. Uh ah. The name is Grogu. Not kid, buddy, Mac, womp rat, or padawan. Grogu. It’s a simple name. If you had to say it in my language, well, it still sounds like Grogu. Easy peasy. Thank you.

Second, I don’t know if I was hatched, born, budded, sprouted, or any of a thousand other ways a person ends up being a person. I’ve heard a lot of theories and I don’t know the answer. I will not be checking in with Master Yoda’s Force ghost (or whatever you call it) to find out more on that either. It’s a mystery. Mysteries are fun. If Jon wants to do that, he can do that.

Third, as much as I like having all those dads when I’m on set, I only have one for real. He is called Din Djarin. He has brown eyes and a scruffy beard and a very handsome nose. That’s right. The few people who have ever seen my dad’s face say he has a lovely nose. It’s a lot bigger than mine but then he’s a lot bigger than me too. Just so you know.

Now that we’ve covered that kind of stuff, I just want to say, I really appreciate you hanging out with me, day in and day out, reading the stories, laughing (I hope), and commenting if you have a chance. And for the two people who send me corrections for typos, I see you and I really appreciate it. I just wish there was an edit button everywhere. Maybe, one day.

Anyway, I’ve been asked a couple of questions pretty routinely and I thought now would be a good time and place to answer them. Since I have your attention.

Yes, I do my own stunts. Some of the time. I’ve got a great team and that includes body doubles, stunt coordinators and of course a couple of other stunt performers. The folks who work with me on that stuff are great and I know you love them as much as I do. Maybe more, since they don’t attach little wands to your arms to make sure you don’t accidentally use the Force. They go to a lot of trouble to set up the sequences and none of us want it to fall flat (no pun intended).

I am not very tall. In fact, I don’t even reach my dad’s knee cap yet. Sometimes when there isn’t a good visual reference I look bigger than I am. Frankly, I kind of like that. But, the reality is I’m about a 0.34 meters in height. I’ve grown a bit since the series first started airing, but that only added a couple of centimeters to my height. That’s a lot for me, but you might not notice it.

Contrary to what some of you may have read on internet posts, I do not eat everything and my body is not all stomach. I just like to eat my food fresh. And I do need a lot of food to keep up my energy levels. It’s not easy being the smallest person on set and no one has figured out how to get me a bicycle that I can ride from point A to point B. Dank Farrik!

Oh, yeah, if you’re wondering why I am not cooing and babbling, and all that, well, this is being translated by my assistant. They understand my language and I am really glad of that. Just because you don’t know what coo, coo, chirp, patuuuu means, doesn’t mean it’s baby talk. Don’t listen to Jon. He doesn’t understand it either. I’m just glad someone does.

Ummm, yes, Peli Motto is just as much fun as she seems to be. She’s cracking jokes about a thousand times a minute and most us can’t keep up with her, but that’s part of her charm. If you don’t understand them all, that’s okay. None of us do, but she still has pretty, bouncy, hair and that is also part of her charm.

Don’t mess with Fennec. Just don’t. Really. She will get even. I did not mean to drop a frog into her iced tea. I didn’t. I was distracted by a question from one of the ADs and next thing I know the frog I was about to eat was in that glass and whoo boy, was Fennec not happy about that. But she didn’t say anything right away. Nope. She smiled, laughed, and asked politely for a new one. The next day I found that frog in my bed. On my pillow. If you get my drift. Do not upset her.

Daimyo Fett is really great and tells so many jokes. They don’t end up in the show very often, but let me assure you that when a person survives a sarlacc pit they have a lot of jokes to tell you and you should listen to them all. Hilarious.

I think the cast and crew are brilliant and they treat me really well and I love them all. Well, except for that one assistant to the assistant to the assistant to the episode’s director. They know who they are. I don’t share those frogs. Not with anyone. They are hard to come by and I need all the vitamins and minerals in them to stay healthy. I don’t care who made that bet (looking at you Pedro), and I don’t care if you won (you didn’t), but leave my frogs alone or you will be finding gorgs in your bed and they won’t be resting peacefully.

Okay. That’s it. Whoo. Glad I got that out of my system. I hope you enjoy the vid of the very lovely Katee. She’s a lot of fun and is one of my favorite humans. This is the Way (through the fourth wall).

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #fourth wall

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love-fireflysong · 2 years

Text

God it sure has been a while since I did one of these huh? Whoopsies. Just been busy, busy, busy over here with working all night and sleeping all day I guess. (Hell, honestly I’m going to bed the second after I’m done writing this which will be like after noon lol.)

Unfortunately writing has been very slow going with me, but I thankfully was able to get out of my slump the other week and have been able to get some words down every now and then. Enough words that I’ll share some snippets from TWO different fics I have started since then! First one from one of the writing prompts that was requested back in September (and that I had intended to complete before my brain decided to short out and turn into goop).

“Fucking hell, I’m sorry about that. I thought for sure that you heard me coming in, I swear that I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Already feeling some of the heat from the embarrassment leaving her face, Abi shakes her head as she loosens her tight hold on her sketchbook and relaxes back into the chair again with weak laugh. “It’s fine, really. Must have just gotten so absorbed into drawing that I didn’t even notice the door opening. What are you doing in here?”

Almost the second the words leave her mouth, the embarrassment that had just started it’s retreat is back to it’s original level as she tries to stammer out what she hopes will be a placating and entirely reasonable explanation. “I mean, not that you can’t be in here of course. It’s not like I have a monopoly on the library after all. Anyone can come in here whenever they went, even you.” Nope, never mind. Instead she’s just continuing on digging that hole deeper and deeper with every following word. Because clearly accidentally insulting Nick and even implying he’s stupid so someone like him would never deign to set foot in a library of all things is the perfect way to ask anyone (much less one’s summertime crush) why they’ve come to see you.

The second fic is one that I just recently took a break from cause it was a halloween centric piece and it felt silly to keep working seeing that I completely missed finishing it for the holiday oops. Both Chris and Ashley had been aware that Josh had decided on the haunted house/graveyard combo earlier in the year, and just like always he had clearly spared no expense on making his vision come to life. Aged shutters had been installed to hang broken and crooked from every cracked and shattered window. Withered ivy climbed the sides of the house, the once bright blue paint (that Chris himself had helped Josh pick out earlier that summer) now dull and peeling, if not missing entirely from some areas of the wood siding. In the corner window on the top floor (which both knew immediately to be the bedroom that they had shared for years before they had moved out shortly after the wedding) was the almost uncomfortable silhouette of a body hung and swaying gently side-to-side in the dim light of the room. On the front of the garage door that housed Josh's extremely macabre props workshop, someone had sprayed various warnings to 'KEEP AWAY' from the 'SUPER HAUNTED' house else they encounter whatever 'GRUESOME DEATH AWAITS YOU' for themselves.

The front yard was no less embellished. The once neat and tidy wooden fence that surrounded the boundary had been replaced entirely with a rusted and nearly broken metal one, every foot or two was a sharp point that looked to be almost deadly, and random ones proved it as they looked to be stained with something nastier and darker than rust alone. What looked like actual gravestones and wooden crosses were scattered throughout the yard, some broken—if not almost entirely demolished—with the names inscribed on them near unreadable. Ashley had even pointed out a cross in the front corner of the yard where the dirt had been freshly turned, as though implying that a new body had been added just recently. A thick and heavy fog rolled across the ground, smoke curling like long, spindly fingers at as it reached the edges of the yard, with the source of the fog curiously emanating from the large, bare oak tree in the center of the yard. The tree that Josh had seen fit to cover in a wide assortment of (unsurprisingly) realistic bats as a raven perched amongst the highest branches, occasionally letting out a loud and discordant caw in irregular intervals.

And yet, despite clearly blowing every other house out of the water, it was easily the tamest that Josh had ever decorated for Halloween in his entire life.

And cross-stitch time! Less headway than I would have liked solely because eagle-eyed peeps may notice that the shades of pink on the right side just above the mareep has changed shade entirely. Realized that the colours I had been given did not match at all with the ones for the next page and the new ones being offered were a much, much better match than the vibrant, almost neon ones I had been given before. But when I went to remove the threads I accidentally managed to completely snap one of the weaves of the material which made it absolutely impossible to sew anything on that line. So I had to preform some minor surgery by re-weaving a new thread to try and replace it and sew on top of that so it would (hopefully) stay in place. And thank god it worked almost perfectly! The only issue that was left is that you can kind of see where it was done cause a couple of squares of thread are *slighty* raised higher than the rest with a small bit of the white peeking through. All in all, a complete success if I say so myself (and I definitely do lol)! After that, it only took me another day or so to finish the page off finally, and all that black was done in two, with the hopes of finishing off the rest of it Thursday night when the new episode of critical role airs!

#wip wednesday #my writing #cross-stitching #until dawn #the quarry #pokemon #seriously so proud of myself that I was able to fix my major booboo in my cross-stitch #cause i was so fucking horrified when that thread of material snapped on me #like if I hadn't been able to fix it then there would have been no way for me to complete the project #all those years of work: gone #wasted #but i managed to fix it almost 100% cleanly and i am so happy #anyways its like 1pm and i am so fucking tired so im going to bed now #good night lol

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eeereee · 2 years

Text

His Sleeping Vixen

Picking up right after ACOSF—

Azriel helps Gwyn find the courage to leave the Library for Cassian and Nesta's mating ceremony. He never wanted to cash in a favor with the priestess but has no choice after an awkward encounter with Elain leaves him in hot water with Rhys. Azriel then asks Gwyn to pretend to be in a relationship with him to throw all the busybodies off the scent.

Meanwhile, Gwyn and Azriel unlock the mysteries of Ramiel and embark on a quest to find the death sword, Narben, under the pretense of hunting for Bryaxis. Along the way, Gwyn discovers new magic powers and finally finds the answers to the secrets of her family tree.

Also on AO3, if that's where you'd prefer to read it 😊

CHAPTER 1: Gwyn’s List

“Oh please,” Emerie rolled her eyes and said, “They’ve already consummated the bond at least a thousand times by now.” She gingerly lifted her arms and hinged forward to reach her feet.

Cassian said nothing but gave a look to Azriel that could only mean, She’s not wrong.

Azriel slightly raised his brows as if to answer, I’m well aware.

Gwyn sat between Nesta and Emerie in the back corner of the training ring as Cassian continued to lead the priestesses through the cool-down stretches. Nesta shot a dirty look at Emerie who blew her a kiss in return.

Gwyn threw her head back as bright, musical laughter burst from her lips.

Azriel’s head whipped around, following the melodic sound of the copper-haired priestess’s voice.

Nesta remained mum about Emerie’s comment, neither confirming nor denying it. She did, however, send a lust-filled look to Cassian as if to say, they might consummate the bond a few more times later.

“Technically, the frenzy starts after the official acceptance of the bond, so the bet starts the moment they tie the ribbon,” Gwyn explained.

The priestesses had placed bets on how long Cassian and Nesta’s mating frenzy would last. Today was the last training session before the Valkyries went on break. Training would resume when Cassian and Nesta returned from their mating frenzy.

Deidre bet three days. She claimed Cassian’s old age would likely cause him to pull a muscle or fracture a bone and cut the frenzy short. Cassian’s orders for the priestesses to run a tenth lap around the ring may or may not have influenced Deidre’s decision.

Ilana generously gave the couple a whopping four weeks in opposition to Deidre’s bet.

Cassian howled at it while Nesta hid behind her hands.

“Who knew priestesses could be so scandalous?” Nesta exclaimed.

“You clearly don’t know many priestesses,” Gwyn casually told her.

Emerie giggled and said, “Seriously Nes, you’ll never guess some of the new romances Gwyn picked up.”

Gwyn suddenly fell into a coughing fit.

Nesta asked with a furrowed brow, “Gwyn, are you okay? Do you need water?” then with a sly gleam in her eye, “Azriel, could you get Gwyn some water?”

“Nope, nope! I’m fine,” Gwyn shouted after shooting Nesta a deadly stare. Nesta and Emerie snickered behind their hands.

Gwyn proceeded to neatly write down the Valkyrie’s bets on a piece of paper on the ground. Somehow, she always had a pen and paper on her.

Azriel often wondered where Gwyn kept all the supplies on her so well hidden. He paced between the priestesses while they finished up another stretching exercise. He looked over Gwyn’s shoulder from a few paces back to take a peek at her list of bets. Gwyn swung her head to face him.

“Do you want to get in on the bet, Shadowsinger?” Gwyn asked.

Azriel bent over and leaned in towards her. “The Inner Circle has their own bet going,” he told her in a voice that came out lower than he intended, “Besides I don’t know how I feel about taking priestesses’ money.”

Gwyn scoffed. “You’re that confident you’ll win?”

Azriel simply shrugged, stealing Gwyn’s signature move.

She threw him a withering stare in return— her other signature move.

Nesta and Emerie snickered openly now.

Azriel wanted to smile then but felt the piercing, discerning gaze of Nesta’s eyes on his back. So instead, he returned his attention to the priestesses in his charge.

Cassian called out, “Let’s call it a day, Valkyries! See you in about a month.” He winked at Ilana who instantly blushed.

A few of the priestesses made their way to the water station while the others approached Nesta and Cassian. Each one wished the mated pair congratulations and offered them prayers and blessings from the Mother before descending to the Library under the House of Wind.

The only ones left in the ring were Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, and the Batboys.

Nesta and Emerie strode over to the water station in the other corner while Gwyn remained on the mat. Her arms reached over her long and limber legs, hands clasped comfortably behind her feet, stretching her legs, her back. She sat up, her hands reaching for the sky over her head. Every muscle of her body visibly stretched tight underneath her Illyrian leathers. She released a low moan in relief.

For one second, Azriel might have forgotten what he was doing… What was he supposed to be doing?

The mats! His shadows reminded him.

Right. Azriel returned his focus to picking up the mats off the ground.

Gwyn leaped up and sauntered over to the water station where Nesta and Emerie took their sweet time rehydrating. Cassian and Azriel finished clearing the training mats and joined the females soon after.

“The ceremony is at dusk so either Mor or Rhys will pick you up sometime in the afternoon.” Nesta told Emerie, “That way you can get ready with me at the River House.”

Emerie nodded in confirmation and chirped, “Can’t wait!”

Gwyn then asked in the sweetest, most saccharine voice, “And who will be picking me up?”

A beat passed.

High-pitched squeals echoed across the training ring. Emerie and Nesta each grabbed one of Gwyn’s arms and jumped up and down.

Nesta shrieked, “Are you saying that both of you will be at my mating ceremony?”

Gwyn nodded at her two friends.

“Thank the Mother!” Emerie grinned at Gwyn. “I was so worried that I’d be by myself the whole time.”

Gwyn returned the grin. “I couldn’t let that happen,” she turned to face Nesta, “Besides I can’t just miss your mating ceremony. I’d regret it forever.”

Silver lined Nesta’s eyes then, knowing how much it meant for Gwyn to leave the Library. Still, it didn’t stop her from asking, “I’m over the moon you’re coming to the ceremony, but it was only yesterday you were still on the fence,” she arched a brow. “What changed?”

Nesta glanced at Azriel. She clearly had ideas brewing in her head but no evidence to solidify her suspicions. Azriel offered his future sister-in-law nothing, not even a change in his expression.

Gwyn simply shrugged. “Just found the courage, I guess.”

Nesta opened her mouth to further investigate, but Gwyn promptly changed the subject, “I can’t wait to see all the outrageous things the High Lord has prepared for you.”

Nesta’s face lit up and started listing all the ornate decorations her friends could expect to see at the ceremony.

The lovely, teal-eyed priestess sent the smallest flicker of a smile at Azriel. It hit him like a bolt of lightning. His lips twitched up, but the smirk disappeared in seconds. Despite the detour in conversation, Azriel still felt the suspicious gazes of Nesta and Emerie. They might have had a reason to, after all, he did know just how Gwyn found the courage to attend the mating ceremony in two days.

Cassian groaned obnoxiously as Nesta continued to describe every frivolous detail of their ceremony and reception. Despite his brother’s mock protests, Azriel knew that Cassian found comfort in Nesta’s excitement about their mating ceremony. Even if it came at the cost of frills and fuss.

“And I can’t wait to plunder the High Lords’ fancy wine collection,” Emerie said.

“Emerie!” Gwyn exclaimed.

“What?” Emerie shrugged. “Nesta all but encouraged it.”

“You have no idea the level of ridiculous Rhys has reached for the ceremony,” Nesta said, “Any little thing I mention, he goes out and buys it.”

“I’ll never live this down,” Cassian grumbled.

“He installed a grand fountain in the garden the other day, just because I said I thought it might look picturesque,” Nesta revealed, “There’s even fish in it! Elain was in stitches.”

Gwyn and Emerie exchanged bewildered looks.

“And there’s going to be a chocolate cake. Taller than even Cassian!” Nesta said.

A glowing grin appeared on Gwyn’s face, her bright teal eyes sparkling.

Azriel didn’t know why, but he found himself chasing it these days. Her smile. A beacon of light that helped him find some semblance of peace, relief. So much relief that he did not even feel the crooked smile that surfaced on his face.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Cassian asked him.

Azriel instantly donned a neutral expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cassian’s eyes remained planted on Azriel.

“So, who will be picking me up for your mating ceremony?” Gwyn asked Nesta and Cassian again.

With a feline grin, Nesta said, “How about Azriel?”

The Shadowsinger still gave no reaction.

A soft, cold breeze drifted through the ring. Wisps of darkness paved the way for the High Lord who now descended upon the training ring. Rhys arrived to take Emerie back to Windhaven. His brother always did know how to make a dramatic entrance. This time, Azriel felt grateful for it. As soon as Rhys’s feet hit the ground, Nesta’s machinations were forgotten.

Rhys greeted each of them one by one with a nod.

Gwyn shyly gave Rhys a half curtsy, “My High Lord.”

Rhys warmly smiled and drawled, “Please call me Rhys.”

“If you insist,” Gwyn said, “My High Lord, Rhys.”

Emerie giggled behind her hand while Nesta rolled her eyes.

“I suppose I should head back to the Library,” Gwyn said. She hugged Nesta and Emerie and gave a small wave goodbye to the Batboys. Then she half ran, half leaped towards the stairwell.

Her long and lithe legs carried her seamlessly to the doorway. Gods, her legs went on and on.

Azriel’s shadows chuckled as they watched the priestess with him from behind his back.

Gwyn stopped and cheerfully called over her shoulder, “See you in two days, ladies!”

One of Azriel’s shadows left him and darted straight for Gwyn. The shadow swirled in front of Gwyn’s face as if to bid her goodbye. She chuckled and gave it a little wave before disappearing down the stairwell.

Nesta and Emerie were already ganging up and teasing Cassian so did not witness the exchange between Azriel’s shadow and Gwyn. It did not, however, go unnoticed by Rhys.

Azriel did his best to avoid the gaze of his brother. Unsure of what Rhys may ask or how he could even begin to explain what just happened. A dark, cool, hand slightly brushed against his mental shield but before Azriel could answer the request, Emerie asked, “My High Lord Rhys, could we get going? I’m expecting an order at the shop.”

Rhys smiled casually and nodded, “Of course.”

He offered his arm to Emerie who promptly took it. The two of them launched into the sky before winnowing away to Windhaven leaving behind Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel in the ring.

The Shadowsinger made up a vague excuse to leave the couple. An unnecessary gesture. Cassian and Nesta’s limbs were already entangled and attached in ways Azriel did not want to figure out.

He raced down the stairwell before that twinge of jealousy crept into his heart. The scent of the mated couple, any mated couple seemed to trigger sharp pain in his head. Each step away from them seemed to bring some relief to the ache.

When Azriel finally arrived at the level of the Library, his shadows ventured ahead to seek out their lovely priestess.

Not that it mattered, Azriel didn’t need his shadows to alert him of Gwyn’s silent presence behind the wall around the corner. He thought Gwyn’s attempts to sneak up and scare him were adorable. A few times he even let her get the jump on him, but his reactions never seemed to satisfy her.

“Oh no, you really got me this time, Berdara,” Azriel would say deadpan.

Gwyn usually gave him the most adorable frown and snarky response.

It was definitely childish but he couldn’t help himself. Azriel loved when that red blush spread like wildfire across her freckled nose and cheeks. He loved it, even more, when Gwyn grew so frustrated that only musical gibberish slipped from her pouty, rosy lips.

Azriel halted on the step and waited. A few long seconds of silence later, a teal eye popped out from behind the corner. An exasperated sigh followed. Gwyn stepped out from the wall and towards him in defeat.

“Nice try, Berdara.”

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed at him as she pouted. Azriel tried to resist the urge to laugh. He failed.

In an attempt to get back on topic, Azriel cleared his throat and held his scarred hands behind his back. They had business to discuss. He stepped toward the priestess to confirm their plans.

“Ready for the final step tonight?” Azriel asked.

Gwyn straightened her back and whipped out a piece of paper and pen that were hidden and tucked under the band at her waist. She delicately unfolded the paper and tapped it with her pen.

On the paper laid out a list of neatly written baby steps to help her develop the courage to leave the Library and attend Nesta’s mating ceremony. A satisfying check marked off beside each step, but there remained two steps left unchecked:

- Practice flight to the River House.

- Attend Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony.

“You and your lists,” Azriel said whilst shaking his head.

His shadows followed suit, undulating side to side behind him, mimicking the motion.

“Don’t sass me, Shadowsinger.” Gwyn struck a derisive finger at him. “You guys too!” she moved her finger towards his shadows.

The shadows danced around Azriel and Gwyn thought she caught a crooked smile on the Shadowsinger’s face.

Azriel’s face serious, voice low and raspy, “I would never dare.” A mischievous glint illuminated the amber and green in his hazel eyes.

She ignored the core-melting deep tone of his voice and focused on narrowing her eyes at him with great exaggeration.

He mirrored the expression back at her.

Gwyn rolled her eyes and took her pen to trace down the list of baby steps. She stopped at the second to last item. Practice flight to the River House.

Her fingers suddenly felt weak and tingly. The thought of being so far from the Library, so soon after the Blood Rite honestly made her want to hurl up her breakfast. The possibility she may hurl and humiliate herself in front of the Shadowsinger made the urge to hurl even worse.

Gwyn watched Azriel draw in his bottom lip, his look growing inquisitive. She panicked, her head spinning.

“Gwyn, I was only teasing,” Azriel said, his brows slightly furrowed in concern.

“I know.” She quickly folded up her list and tucked it back into her waistband, then shrugged and said, “Sorry.”

Azriel took a few steps closer to her. He slanted his head to meet her eyes but she turned away to avoid him.

From her periphery, Gwyn saw Azriel release his hands from behind his back. It almost looked like he might reach for her but they fell at his sides instead. Gwyn couldn’t decide if she was more disappointed or relieved.

She took in another deep breath, and in a voice that was surprisingly firm, “Training ring at midnight. We’re going to the River House tonight, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel and his shadows nodded after each of her statements and when she finished, he said, “Good, because I may or may not have prepared a prize for you after you finish tonight’s baby step.”

Gwyn perked up. “A prize? Since when do you give out prizes?”

“I figured a reward would be in order, for when you complete your list tonight,” Azriel said.

A greedy gleam sparkled in her teal blue eyes as the gears in her mind twisted and turned, wondering what prize Azriel might have prepared for her. Then a thought dawned on her, What did this mean? That the Shadowsinger prepared a prize for her?

The Shadowsinger prepared a prize. Practically a gift! For her. Because he believed in her. The Shadowsinger believed in her.

Nope. Stop. Do not make this bigger than what it is.

“It means nothing,” Gwyn muttered under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Hm?” Gwyn feigned innocence.

Azriel’s brow barely lifted, “I thought you would be pleased.”

“I am,” Gwyn said, “But technically, I won’t be finishing my list tonight.”

Azriel slanted his head to the side with a raised brow. His shadows copied the slanted gesture beside him as if they too were confused by her statement.

“Technically the list won’t be finished until I attend the actual ceremony,” Gwyn said.

Then another thought dawned on her, “And you’re the one doing me the favor. If anything, I should be giving you something.”

Somehow Azriel’s face looked even more perplexed. Gwyn rolled her eyes. “Besides it seems silly to be rewarded for something as trivial as leaving the Library. I mean you leave the Library every day.”

Azriel’s face softened. He stepped even closer. She felt the ghost of his fingers reach for her chin as if to lift it, but they never did. Gwyn looked up, chasing the ghost only to find his face inches away from hers.

Usually, Gwyn was not one to turn away from a staring contest, unofficial or not, but this time Gwyn couldn’t handle his haunting hazel eyes. She hung her head low.

“It’s not silly and it’s not trivial,” Azriel said, “Don’t ever undervalue all the progress you’ve made.” He drew in a sharp breath and in a quiet voice, “What you’re doing is brave and when I see how far you’ve come, it gives me hope.”

Gwyn moved to tuck her hair behind her arched ear, but Azriel beat her to it. It was as if he knew that was exactly what she might do at that very moment. His scarred hand carefully reached for the copper-brown strands and ever so gently pushed back the loose locks of hair.

Gwyn’s sight locked onto his hand. She couldn’t stop her eyes as they trailed from the polished siphon attached to his scarred hand all the way to the smoldering gaze on his otherwise unreadable face.

Azriel’s eyes too followed that same trail except his sight landed on the friendship bracelet wrapped around Gwyn’s wrist. The friendship bracelet Nesta made for Gwyn this past winter. The friendship bracelet which included blue threads that just happened to match the cobalt siphons on Azriel’s hands.

Oh, Nes.

“And you don’t owe me anything,” Azriel said, “It’s been my honor to help you, with one of your many lists.”

A shadow grazed against her cheek. The cool touch brought some relief to her now heated cheeks. Azriel’s burning stare still hadn’t yet extinguished, melting Gwyn’s knees into jelly.

A faint, ethereal song floated by Gwyn’s ear. The same ethereal song she heard emanating from the Shadowsinger those many months ago when she saw him in the training ring for the first time. The first time she saw him since that night he saved her in Sangravah.

Azriel made no indication that he heard this song, so she kept her lips tightly shut.

Gwyn stepped back and down the stairs. Azriel too snapped out of whatever daze he had been in, his shadows moving excitedly around him once more.

Gwyn wondered if she imagined all that transpired in the last few minutes. She shook herself out of her thoughts and plastered on a cheery smile.

“So, I guess I’ll see you tonight, Shadowsinger,” she said before running into the Library before Azriel could say or do anything more to make her knees completely liquify.

#gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #i guess the title is sorta a spoiler

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soloalfie · 3 years

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Ok, so this was intended to be the chapter of a longer story but I’m really struggling to finish it. This is my very first fanfic and I’m not a native speaker so after months of reediting I decided to create a new account and upload at least some parts of it in hope of having some feedback. I don’t even know if this will reach any readers with the tumblr logarithms but here it goes.

1880 words, no smut (not yet), only this man’s intense kisses.

THE DINNER

You wore a maroon dress, your shoulders uncovered. You hated being complimented, for you thought a woman’s confidence shouldn’t rely on a man’s opinion about your physical traits but you felt flattered anyway when he told you that you looked lovely. He was purposefully measured in his comments about your aspect and you liked that. He offered his arm and you walked out your place by his side. A man his size provided a sense of safety much appreciated. He opened his car’s door for you and you stepped up gracefully. “Where are we going?” You asked with curiosity. “None of us are very fond of posh, crowded places, ‘ight? Not sure if you fancy kosher either, so we'll be having dinner at me place. I have the best chief in town cooking for us this evening”. You smiled. The fact that you share simple tastes pleased him greatly. It wasn’t that you were easy to content, nope. He knew that regarding other aspects you were, in fact, a quite exigent person. He loved the fact that you couldn’t stand men with patronising attitudes that would only address you for small talk or flirting. Either you had a good deep conversation or nothing at all. Sharing interests in matters of importance such as art, science or politics was essential for you, just as much as feeling free to make your own statements and decisions. There was no money enough in the world to keep a woman like you near a boring controlling man. Life is about priorities and Alfie was wise enough to know what was more important for you, so he decided to set up a nice dinner at home, far from curious looks and comments and you were about to enjoy every second of it.

This was the first time you visited Alfie’s place and you loved every single detail on it. You would’ve expected more austerity seeing his style but the man was a hoarder and a million rare and curious objects could be found in the house. It was far from being a mansion but it had two floors and several spacious rooms. There were different pieces of taxidermy, tapestries and pictures hanging from the walls, beautiful rugs on the wooden floor. As you passed by the living room you took a glance to see a big green velvet couch, the wall covered by books, and many lamps in art deco style. You smiled in awe “Oh…my…God…I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t this, definitely. This place is astounding, Alfie. So personal and peculiar…If you wanted to impress me, well, you have. I’m stunned. How long did it take you to gather all these things?” you asked. ”A lifetime, dear. It took me ages” he said, “and it’ll be all yours if you want, love” he thought to himself.

The dinner was served, you weren't used to alcohol and you had two glasses of red wine. You had never seen him drinking but he seemed to be pleased to see you enjoying the liquor. For the next few hours the conversation revolved around his life. He had got to know so much about you and yet, you knew so little about him at that point. You were really intrigued about what kind of past a particular man like him would’ve had. He talked with no holds barred about his family. He told you about his mom escaping from the Kiev pogrom, chased by dogs through the snow in Imperial Russia, his childhood, growing up in Candem Town in poverty with an absent father whose only legacy had been that old black hat you got to love so much. As he spoke, you thought you’d do fine together after the wedding. With this man, even a platonic relationship would fill your heart. There were a million things that concerned you about your near future but you didn’t want to spoil the evening thinking of them at that moment. You told him about your own country, about your city. About your bold and willing atypical youth living abroad. You told him about Carrel and your past and ,finally, about your days in France, serving as a nurse at the war. And even if he already knew many of those facts and there hadn’t been much left unrevealed about you and your circumstances, he absolutely enjoyed hearing it from the horse's mouth. He realised at that point that it was your determination and independence that made you so lovable to him. After you had finished your desserts, he guided you to the living room. “I’ll be ‘ight back, dear” he said leaving you in this amazing living room. Without hesitation, you headed straight to the library and tilted your head to one side to check what sort of books Mr. Solomons fancied. Many of them were written in Hebrew or Russian but you spotted some contemporary titles on different subjects as well as some classics of Universal literature. You didn’t speak Russian but you were familiar with the cirilic alphabet and as you passed your fingers over the spines, you recognised the name of one of your favourite writers, your highly regarded Dostoevski, and checked with great astonishment and joy that he owned most of his bibliography, composed by gorgeous editions lavishly binded. Out of the blue, a feeling of sadness overcame you when you thought about how fond of him you had got to be. Yes, you were sad and just then, in that very moment, you realised it was love. You had fallen for him and he would never ever be truly yours. Not as you wished. He had told you so not so long ago, and in a brief instant, as you became aware of this painful truth, you felt devastated. There was so much love wasted on Earth. Your mind was dangerously ledding you to a hypothetical future in which you both could be fiercely happy together and you blamed the wine for this ill-timed sentimentalism. You were trying to keep your mind calmed and restrained when you heard heavy steps coming from the next room approaching you slowly from behind. Now that your true feelings had revealed themselves to you, your heart was racing and you honestly doubted if you would be able to look him in the eye again. In a rush, you tried you think of a subject, something to say that could take away those thoughts from your mind quickly, so you looked at the book in your hands and just when you were about to speak about it, you felt the warmth radiating from his broad body, realising he was just an inch away from you. He laid his hands on your waist so softly, wrapping his arms around you slowly, and you suddenly felt his hot breath on your neck. You put the book back in place with trembling hesitant hands and he placed a kiss where your neck meets your shoulder, his plump wet lips lingering on your pulse so gently. His move took you off guard, being the last thing you would expect and you stood still in shock. The wetness of his lips and his beard elicited a shiver and a barely audible sound from you and your breath got deeper and louder, making your chest heave with anticipation. Your body reaction was instantly noticed by him and he released his tongue that started roaming lazily up and down your neck, his beard tickling. “Is this happening?” You muttered in disbelief and you felt a grin behind your ear. He hummed, sending electricity down your spine as he chuckled, so close to you. With his big hands on your waist, he spinned you and turned your back on the classics collection stack on the bookcase, as if reading the greatest stories ever told were nothing compared to being alive, feeling real life emotions in your own flesh. This was the real thing. You placed your hands on his chest and you were almost scared to look up to his eyes and find in them the slightest trait of pity or doubt but he urged you to meet his gaze. “Look at me”, he said and you complied, only to realize there was nothing apart from desire in his lustful irises, their colour completely engulfed by big black pupils. Tightening his embrace, holding you up as close as possible, your heels lifted until your lips were at the same height so you wrapped your arms around his neck and he kissed you softly. Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead to yours and spoke in his thick compelling accent “Been wanting this since you had the boldness to offer me a deal, but ya already knew it, didn’t ya?”. “Nothing further from the truth, dear” you thought to yourself. Alfie Solomons had been impossible to read for you, just like those books that rested behind you, written in an ancient and exotic language, with strange golden characters printed on their luxurious covers full of forbidden stories, untold secrets and words of wisdom. A perfect metaphor of the man who had stolen your heart. “Fucking Alfie” you thought, and you realised that even his cockney accent and his swearings had taken over you. He then kisses you again and you feel your body being conquered by his overpowering presence, an assault on your senses. The softness of his touch, warming your skin, the grip of his left arm on your waist, his right hand cupping the back of your neck lovingly, his tongue, hot and wet meeting playfully yours. He tastes like honey and wine and you swallow his sweetness thirstily. As you inhale to take in some air, his smell goes up your nostrils in floods, and the notes of wood and rum and dough and cinnamon fill your brain with fleeting memories of former encounters with him at the bakery when you barely knew him. He’s breathing deep into your open mouth and the soft groans coming from his throat over the sound of tongues entangled together, licking and sucking the hell out of each other, is pure music delighting your ears. You’re too aware of every detail and you want to keep this moment forever in your memory, so just to get the whole picture, you decide to open your eyes briefly and get a glance of his face. Eyes squeezed shut with trembling lashes, extremely close to your face, to let himself focus on what he’s doing to you. The sight sends you straight up to the stars and you close your eyes once more so you can be engulfed by the current sensations. Your senses are utterly saturated, but you enjoy every second of it, trying to keep a record of every detail. You knew this man was intense but this goes beyond your imagination, he is just too fucking much. He’s kissing you so fervently that you feel you’re going to faint. At some point he finally breaks the kiss and looks you in the eye nodding, “Yeah, I know you knew,” he smirked. The wine is now taking place and speaking daringly for you: “No I didn’t, Alfie, but if that’s true, please act like it ”.

#Fanfic #fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #Alfie #Alfie Solomons #alfie x reader #Alfie x you #smut #fluff

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language, nudity (but, like, for art), and violence Warnings: Unhealthy dynamics, including violence between the shipped pair, leaning heavily into the "enemies" part of "enemies to friends to lovers" Summary: Local vampire discusses art, depictions of certain anatomy, and enjoys the company of her feral soulmate for 4.5 minutes. Then it goes to shit (as things tend to do). 0-60 Real goddamn quick. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly

4: Portraits For Ghosts

“Am I really supposed to just… stay here? Did she honestly think that I, of all people, would behave? The universe gave me two good hands, and by God, I intend to make that someone else’s problem,” you mutter to yourself as you get dressed. It’s not that you necessarily had anything in mind, rather that you hated the idea of waiting around for who knows how long for Cassandra to return. Especially considering what she had done prior to leaving. Sure, you had laughed, but that hadn’t meant much in the end. At this point, you hadn’t even been out of the dungeon for a full day yet, and the memories of what happened there were fresh in your mind. Nightmares, too, even if you had pushed them aside to deal with Cassandra’s. Why did I bother? You wonder, frowning. There was hardly any point to comforting a monster, no matter the way they trembled.

Or at least that’s the lie you sold yourself.

Soon enough, a knock at the door brings you out of your head. Daphne, maybe, you think, remembering the maiden from yesterday. When you open the door, however, you’re met with an unfamiliar woman. She’s a few years your senior, at the very least, and appears surprised to see you. In her hands is a very enticing tray of food.

“Lady Cassandra wanted me to bring this to you. I am… I am glad to see you are feeling better already,” she says, voice shaking. What was with these maidens and assuming you were anything like your soulmate? Though that last part did catch your interest. Something told you that she wasn’t at all referring to your time in the dungeon. If you had learned anything from Daphne, it was that the best way to get information was to be indirect. So you graciously accepted the food, before speaking, dodging your way around your ignorance.

“Yes, it’s amazing what a bit of meditating can do for the soul- and body, that is,” you start, watching closely for any veiled reactions. Even within the first few words you can tell that this stranger wasn’t expecting you to be pleasant. “Out of curiosity, what did my Lady say about my condition? There are, uh, a few details that I hope she did not share. I’m sure you understand.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, the maiden is nodding, appearing eager to satisfy you. Maybe a hint of fear can be useful, after all.

“No worries, Lady Cassandra did well to respect your privacy, and we would not dare question her further. She simply explained, to her family, that you were dealing with a migraine. I only heard this because I was helping serve breakfast,” she explained, smiling softly. You’re quick to nod, mimicking her expression for maximum empathy. “Do you require anything else? I am here to serve, you must only ask.” Ah, perfect. Would she have offered this even if you hadn’t attempted to be charming? Probably, but your politeness certainly didn't hurt.

“Well, there is one thing… as long as it’s no trouble.”

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

It had been a risk, asking the servant to take you to a room you weren’t sure existed, but one that had paid off brilliantly. Even if said room was nothing like you had anticipated. Who would have thought that Cassandra, you think, would be an artist? What’s far less surprising is the fact that the studio (or ‘study’, as you had called it) is a disorganized disaster. Discarded papers lie scattered around an overflowing trash can, a cabinet with an attached tool rack is missing pieces, and in one corner there are literally random shards of broken glass lying about. What is this, performance art? Part of you feels tempted to clean up the mess, if only to occupy your time. Instead, you decide to examine some of the pieces within the room. Maybe somehow they’d tell you something noteworthy about your soulmate.

First, you move to your left, where a workbench houses strange sculptures. For the most part they’re abstract, jagged edges contrasting with gentle curves, but there is one you think you understand. It’s very clearly a bust… of someone’s ‘bust’. Guess that solves the age old question of ‘boobs or ass’, you think, stifling a giggle. Moving on, you shift your attention to the exposed section of the cabinet. One row is dedicated to small vials, each labeled with a concerning ‘blood’, despite the fact that it’s clearly not refrigerated. Still, you have heard of artists painting with blood before, but you seem to recall them mixing it with something else. Perhaps Cassandra had done the same? Though you did wonder if she had any difficulty resisting the urge to drink the blood, at least prior to mixing it.

Shrugging, you continue to the other side of the studio, squatting to get a closer look at the broken glass. As expected, there’s no discernable pattern or purpose. Huh, you think, wonder why she doesn’t clean up. Maybe she’s waiting for a servant to do it? Guessing her reasoning was rather difficult, especially considering your lack of context, such as how long the mess had been here. Deciding that this was a pointless distraction, you move on to the only other thing of note in the room: An easel, in the center, with a canvas nearly as tall as yourself. So far, there’s little on it other than pencil lines, a sketch marking where to paint certain details. Only the (start of) the background has been colored. Understandably, it’s hard to make out what exactly the finished project would end up representing. Based on what you know of Cassandra and her family, however, you infer that this- with four figures, one larger than the others, protective- is a painting of the castle residents.

“Family means something to you, hmm?... I hope that mine does not miss me much, for I will never see them again,” you say to yourself, instinctively reaching out towards the art. Before you can touch it, or think better of it, the door to the studio is flying open. In storms Cassandra, fists clenched at her sides. As soon as she sees you, she’s rushing forward, pulling you away from the easel. “Hello, darling. Glad to see me feeling better, yes?” You teased, smiling wide at her. Feeling a bit emboldened by your earlier success, you go a step further, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I swear to fuck, if you touched any of my stuff-” Cassandra starts to say, intentionally ignoring the kiss, even though her cheeks get flush at the contact.

“Nope, not a single thing. Not even the broken glass. Nice touch, by the way, makes the whole space feel a helluva lot cozier,” you interject. For a few moments she holds you by your shirt collar, staring you in the eyes as if determining whether or not to believe you. Somehow, some way, she declares you innocent, releasing you with an irritated sigh. After pretending to dust yourself off, you return your attention to the central canvas. “Do you do a lot of art of your family? I passed by several pieces on my way here, though they were certainly in a different style.” Another pause, with Cassandra waiting for you to spring a verbal trap.

“Some of those are mother’s work,” she answers, tentatively, eying you closely. When you merely nod in reply, expecting her to elaborate, she starts to relax, little by little. “I doubt you passed any of mine. Mother tends to keep those closer to her quarters, or near the main entrance.” Interesting, you think, why hasn’t she addressed my original question?

“It sounds like she’s very proud of you,” you muse, still facing away from your soulmate. There’s a slight shakiness to your voice, as your mind starts to dwell on memories of your own family. Perhaps noticing this, Cassandra takes a few steps closer, one hand hovering over your shoulder, not quite sure if you needed (or perhaps deserved) any comfort. In this moment, you feel far more vulnerable than you had the day before. Taking a deep breath, you try to center yourself, before perfectly ruining whatever trust you had just established with Cassandra. “Something tells me she doesn’t know about the titty sculpture though, right? Can’t quite imagine that one being displayed where everyone can see it.”

To your immense surprise, Cassandra gives you a blank stare.

“You… you really don’t know anything about my mother, do you?” She says, after several awkward seconds. It feels strange to think that she had been furious, merely a handful of minutes ago. “If you actually behave for a while, I can show you some of her favorite pieces around the castle. Then maybe you’ll understand.” Intrigued, you debate how exactly to respond. On one hand, you did want to see the art, but on the other hand… misbehaving was your goal of the day.

“Sounds like a nice date to me. Why not start the tour right now?” You suggest, hoping to meet your ‘politeness quota’ earlier rather than later. Still, it is in your very nature to be chaotic, and you find yourself giving Cassandra an affectionate shoulder touch. It’s not at all genuine, but the two of you blush nonetheless. How could you not, when your blood was bound together, hearts made to race in sync?

“Don’t get friendly with me,” Cassandra stammers, unadjusted to the way her pulse pounded. “This isn’t a date. We’re just- it doesn’t matter, actually. As long as it means getting you out of my studio, I don’t care.” With that said, she takes your hand in her own, pulling you towards the exit. If she has any feelings about the soft touch, she hides them well… unlike yourself. Cheeks flushed, you’re half tempted to yank yourself out of her grip, hating the way your heart skips a few beats. Would I still feel this way if I didn’t know we were soulmates? You wonder, biting your lower lip to prevent any unwanted comments from slipping out. Soon enough you’d have art aplenty to distract yourself with. Hopefully.

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

“My God, you were not kidding. I don’t- I can’t even think of anything clever to say,” you chime, staring dumbfounded at the several statuettes of naked women. They seemed to fulfill some other purpose, one you couldn’t parse at the moment, but you could hardly think about the details right now. “I mean, good for your mother, for sticking to a theme, I suppose,” you continue, tripping over your own tongue, uncharacteristically quiet. Clearly amused by your flustered display, Cassandra lets out a hearty laugh.

“Good to know some things can shut you up. I’ll have to keep this in mind for next time you bother me,” she teases, light-heartedly. Her words only fluster you more, though they quickly give you room to counter, much to your joy.

“Is that so? Planning on carrying around a busty bust for the rest of your life, or thinking of going the more au naturel route?” You asked, briefly sticking your tongue out at Cassandra. It takes her a moment to understand what you’re getting at, but as soon as she does she’s smacking your arm with an offended huff. Despite her irritation, the blow is relatively soft, and you swear you can see her fighting to hide a smile. “Starting to go soft on me, are you? I hardly even felt that one.”

“So you’d prefer I hit you harder? And to think you called me kinky,” Cassandra fires back, without a hint of hesitation. Now both of you are laughing, softly, like old friends sharing fond memories. It’s… weirdly nice. A warmth fills your chest, even as you try to remind yourself that you shouldn’t be happy right now. Damn it, you think, suddenly frowning, hands clenching. We shouldn’t be having fun banter, back and forth like a real couple. Not when I’ve still got wounds from her hands on my skin. Instinctively you reach up to your face, thumb running over the marks Cassandra’s nails had left behind. The touch stings, bad, no matter how gentle you try to be. Noticing your shift in expression, your soulmate inches closer. “If your wounds are bothering you, I can have one of the servants get more ointment or whatever it is we have around. I don’t want you to-... There’s no reason for you to suffer more than you need to, besides, I don’t want you complaining all day.” Of course she couldn’t bring herself to imply that she cared. Of course. It wasn’t like the two of you were actually capable of being soft for each other, obviously. All of your confusion melts down, boiled by the warmth in your chest, turning to a familiar, albeit painful, rage.

“Right, right! Because you care so fucking much, yeah? What the fuck am I doing? Why am I-” you jab a finger towards her chest, accusatory- “talking to you? Why am I pretending you're not the one who did this to me? You’re the fucking reason my face hurts, my shoulder hurts, my brain-... I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened down there. I can’t get those goddamn images out of my head, every time I close my eyes, every time I look at you. I…” You trail off, chest heaving a little, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra’s standing tall, unflinching, but there’s a noticeable regret in her expression.

“What. Are. You… going to do about it?” She asks, through clenched teeth, fighting back the full force of her emotions. You can’t tell what exactly she’s feeling, but you know that you want her to show you. Every part of you is itching for a fist fight, regardless of how stupid you know the idea is.

“Depends, dickwad, on whether or not these statuettes are properly secured,” you snap, already moving, fully abandoning all impulse control. By the time your hand grips the first sculpture, Cassandra has put you in a headlock, forcefully tugging you backwards. Panic sets in, making you try to jam your elbows into her stomach. Before long both of you are tumbling to the floor, bodies already aching, limbs flailing wildly in an attempt to hit a target, any target. In the end the air is knocked from your lungs as your head smacks against the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” you grumble, coughing, finally processing just how much of a dumbass you were. It’s clear that at least one of the previous day’s wounds has reopened, and you feel something wet and sticky on your shirt.

“Finished, asshole?” Cassandra wheezes, sounding dazed, roughly pulling you up by your shirt collar. You nod, refusing to meet her gaze. Then she’s sighing in relief, letting you lean on her for support, holding you surprisingly close, considering the circumstances. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Again…”

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #enemies to friends to lovers #blunt teeth sharp tongue #got some fun banter in this one!#followed immediately by heartbreak #they want to be soft so bad #but they do not know how #i promise they will eventually be soft #you have to remember that this is still less than 24 hours after part 1 #the reader is traumatized

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fbfh · 3 years

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I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#leo valdez x reader #leo x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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a-dusty-emerald · 3 years

Text

Till it sinks in: Draco x Reader / Hurt-Comfort, Fluff Fic

A hurt-comfort fluff fic, with a slytherin Y/n being the girlfriend of the softie-who-hates-to-be-called-softie-so-he-bitches-all-day Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Where Umbridge uses her quill on you.

_____________________________________________

Dolores Umbridge, maybe the most hated teacher to set foot at Hogwarts, had a special dislike against anyone who disobeyed. And while that may be all teachers, not all teachers dismissed sobbing students from their detention. Every single student that got detention with Umbridge looked broken afterwards, but no one knew what she said to them; it was a mystery.

Professor McGonagall, for instance, made sure the students that misbehaved researched a wide topic for a few hours during the week, with the intimidating presence of her self. Professor Snape, on the other hand, locked students in the Potions classroom and let them out after the successfull brewing of a potion of his liking. Hence, it must be something similar.

Y/n strolled into class, her curls bouncing around the embroided slytherin crest of her robe. Defence against the dark arts was her worst subject, she only thought it was interesting when Professor Lupin taught it, and had done surprisingly well. Then, it was a hands-on, useful and fascinating module, while now, Umbridge followed the Ministry's policy to teach the students in a "risk free" way, by only reading through the theory. Not only were the lessons incredibly boring, the whole book was utterly useless.

"As if Voldemort will ask you the theory of Merlin's rule of categorisation of spells when he Avada-Kedavra's your ass", Y/n had scoffed when she saw the chapters. Draco had laughed, but told her that his father had owled him that Umbridge was a family ally, and hence he could not be out of line in her class.

"When did you become such a nerd?"

"Oh shut it Y/n", Y/n recalled.

She had also implemented some stupid rules, like "no touching between boys and girls, and a six feet distance at all times", and reduced the hours that students could go out of their dorms. While Dumbledore wanted the students to be at their dorms by 10pm, Umbridge thought that 6pm was acceptable.

As if.

Y/n entered the class, the only class she did not sit with Draco. Apparently, boys and girls could also not sit with one another, since they would eventually touch. And in a doomed world controlled by Umbridge, that was a sin.

Draco spotted his girlfriend entering the room, wearing a bored look on her face. He was not excited about DADA either. His parents might have told him that Umbridge was the best thing that could happen in this school, but he was not blind or stupid. The stuff being taught were useless and her teaching method was more boring than 5 hours of Divination with no breaks in his eyes. At least then, he could laugh at Trelawney. Now he just was supposed to stay silent and listen Umbridge reading the most basic book ever again and again.

He realised he got lost in his thoughts and was staring at Y/n longer than intended. She seemed bored as hell, but her eyes always intimidated him - yet, he would never admit out loud. Even the plainest of her looks had such passion beneath it, her deep dark orbs had a fire in them, surrounded by thick eyelashes, making her look coy and mischevious even when she was not planning to.

Y/n noticed him looking and smirked back at him.

"Stop staring, people might think that you like me" she mouthed silently to him. He grinned and shook his head. 'She is something else', he thought.

An unpleasantly familiar trotting of heels approached the creaking floor at the centre of the classroom, making students focus on the short, evil woman that was tormenting the school; Umbridge.

"Hello, my dear students" she smiled in a sickly manner. "Today we are learning about the theory of protection spells."

Y/n groaned, thinking other students would join her, however, it was this uncomfortable and awkward moment that everyone had decided to stay deadly silent, making her disapproving groan loud and clear to be heard.

"Is there an issue, miss Y/l/n?" Umbridge smiled in the evilest way she could.

"No, no, of course not. I always wanted to listen about the theory of protection spells." Y/n smiled in the fakest way possible.

"Is that irony I am sensing, Y/l/n?" Umbridge had a more serious look now, her smile not decieving anyone.

"Nope." She said, emphasising the "p" sound in her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she quickly glanced to Draco, who had a warning glare. "Don't aggravate her!" He mouthed. Y/n rolled her eyes, and unfortunately for her, Umbridge saw that, taking it as it was directed at her.

She scrunched up her nose and stomped her heel lightly on the floor, when she exclaimed: "Detention after class, miss y/l/n! That attitude of yours is no match for a young witch!"

Draco did not know why everyone was saying Umbridge's detention was horrible, he had heard she only requested some lines. Even so, her detention had gained a horrible reputation, and he didn't like it one bit that his girlfriend would be the one going there.

Even so, he was angry at her, he had warned her so many times. She was such a brat every time she spoke to Umbridge, when he had told her that every student that was leaving her detention was crying.

The DADA lesson had finished, when Y/n saw Draco stomping towards her, stopping around the 6 feet limit, keeping his distance.

"Why do you never listen?!" His angry hissing voice aggravated her even more.

"I rolled my freaking eyes, Draco, chill."

"You were sarcastic. You know you were. Are you happy now?" His glare was piercing her soul.

"I am not, actually. I would prefer no stupid rules, but I guess my boyfriend is too much of a wuss to think for himself and see how ridiculous Umbridge is."

"She just wants order. Besides, its temporary!" He half whispered, half yelled.

"Sure. Tell that to yourself to feel better, darling." Now she was mad at him. "Now excuse me, I have a detention to go to." She closed the gap between them - breaking the rule- just to bump on his shoulder angrily, and stomped past him, going to detention.

"Fine! I don't give a fuck, then!" She heard her boyfriend's voice. She knew he didn't mean it at all, but she silently prayed he changed his mind after her detention, he had an hour to think by himself after all. She was hoping for an apology.

Y/n lightly knocked on her door, listening to Draco's advice for once. She should be polite, calm and collected no matter what she said to her. She couldn't risk an expulsion. Umbridge's sickly laugh was heard. "Come in, y/l/n."

Y/n opened the door, fighting back her urge to laugh or roll her eyes. Her least favourite colour, fuchsia pink, was plastered everywhere, cats trapped on the walls, and a heavy, sickly, sugary aroma filled her nostrils, she did her best to keep her pokerface.

"Sit", the teacher ordered. "You will do some lines today, Y/n."

Relief passed through her. That wasn't that bad. She grabbed a piece of paper and moved to grab her quill, when the fuchsia toad in front of her stopped her. "Oh no, dear. I'm afraid you wont need that." She smiled, and handed her a large black feathered quill from her own collection. "Use this, please. It is one of my favourites."

Y/n grabbed the quill and moved again to reach for her ink. "Oh, silly me, I forgot." She heard the professor giggle. "You won't need any ink, dear."

She looked at Umbridge confused, her tamed eyebrows furrowing to her words. Still, she went with it. She grabbed the quill and before she started, Umbridge directed her "you shall write the line: I must not be arrogant." Y/n resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"How many times, Professor?" She said.

"Hm... let's just say... till it sinks in." Umbridge giggled once again, sipping her tea.

Y/n scoffed silently and started writing the lines, red ink magically appearing on paper. Her left hand was uncomfortable the whole time, but she ignored it. As soon as she finished the first line, though, the discomfort became a burning sensation, and hurt so much, like someone was creating small cuts in her skin. She looked at her hand to see what was going on, only to see the line she wrote engraved in her hand.

'You evil bitch' Y/n thought.

Every time she would rewrite the sentence, it was like the invisible knife digged deeper and deeper in her skin, twisting at each twist of the quill. She looked at Umbridge with teary eyes, a silent plea to stop this torture. Blood was seeping out of her wound uncontrollably now, staining her robe. Umbridge just glanced at her and said "one more page."

Through silent tears, a wrecked bloodied hand, trembles and gritted teeth, she finished her torture without making a sound. She excused her self, said goodbye to the professor, and closed the heavy door behind her, exhaling with a trembled sob escaping her lips. An exhale that she was holding for an hour.

She contained her tears and hid her hand from plain sight. She did not want to worry anyone, and she sprinted with all the energy she could muster to the dungeons. She just wanted to wash it off, wrap it in a clean cloth, and have a good cry.

As she was approaching the dungeons, it dawned on her: she could run up to Draco there. What should she do? On one hand, the thought of making him feel bad enticed her, she was still mad about his behaviour. On the other hand, she knew he meant no harm, and that he would make her start a legal war with Umbridge. She really didn't want to do anything right now, as much as she hated her guts.

She hid her hand better, wiped her eyes, took a few deep breaths and prayed that her boyfriend was not in the common room, as she opened the door.

Unbeknownst to her, Draco was waiting restlessly at the common room all this time. He didn't like the fact they fought before, he hated not being on good terms with Y/n. He didn't think he was entirely on the wrong though. 'Maybe if she listened to me once in a whi-'

His thoughts came to a halt when he saw a trembling Y/n enter the common room. Her eyes were red and glassy, and she was crouched in a weird position. He instantly forgot everything he was thinking of and sprinted towards her. When her eyes fell on him, she inhaled sharply, sttaightening her posture. He was terribly worried and she could feel it.

"Darling?" His soft voice was music to her ears.

Her eyes avoided his, refilling with tears just from his worried voice.

"I-I need to go to my room." She said with a lowered gaze.

"Tell me what's wrong please-"

"I thought you didn't give a fuck." Her voice was low when she said it, her teary eyes finally meeting his. She did not mean to snap at him, but everything was too much.

He finally locked eyes with her now, the emotion he saw in her overtaking him. He pursed his lips and looked down.

"I'm sorry. You know - baby you know thats not true. I want to know what happened. What did she say to you that made you cry? You don't cry easily, I know that. If you want I'll report her!" He was frantically searching for her gaze again, his grey irises full of concern.

"She said nothing bad to me. She instructed me through my lines." She avoided his gaze once again.

He lowered his gaze as well, and broke the -for once- uncomfortable silence, his voice slightly broken.

"Do you not trust me?"

His words echoed in her head. She did. She did with her life. She could not stay mad at him, no matter her anger. "I do. I'm sorry, I'm a-a bit of a m-mess, i'll tell you, j-just give me a few m-minutes..."

His hand grabbed hers to pull her into an embrace, to hold her close, to calm her. As soon as his hand grasped her own, though, a strong wave of stinging pain shot through her, a hissing sound escaping her lips as she yanked her hand away. She was holding it close to her heart, a few hot tears escaping her eyes. There was no escape now.

Draco looked at her wide eyed, a blank expression of confusion mixed with worry resting on his features. "What-"

He looked down on his hand. Blood.

He inhaled sharply. Blood? His heart was pounding in his chest now, his fury for Umbridge boiling. What exactly happened in her detentions?

"Darling." He spoke. His voice was low and steady, and Y/n could swear she could hear her own heartbeat. "Your hand. Please." He extended his own to signal her to give her hers. Slowly, she put her bloodied palm on his own.

"Did she do this?", he hissed angrily. Y/n nodded but winced at his tone, not ready for facing an angry Draco. He saw that, and his features calmed down.

He grasped her shoulders carefully, gently pulling her in a hug, lightly kissing her forehead and letting his lips linger there. He tilted her chin up, pressing a quick peck on her lips.

"Im not mad at you". He said steadily, to show he meant every word. "I'll kill her, honestly" he mumbled, as his eyes examined the wounds.

"I must not be arrogant?!?"

He felt his anger rise again, as he managed to read the cuts that were filled with blood.

"She h-had a black quill. I would write on paper and it would transfer the letters in m-my hand. Must be c-cursed." Y/n said between small sobs.

His one arm cradled her head and she felt him moving the other one on her waist, urging her to move. "Come on, lets get you cleaned up. I'll send a letter to my father. She will be out of her position tomorrow."

Y/n's eyes widened "No n-no I-"

Draco didn't let her finish "Y/n, I love you but please shut up."

For the first time in a while, Y/n giggled, music to Draco's ears.

He took his time being extra gentle on her wound, making sure it is clean, before putting a few healing spells on it, muttering apologies whenever Y/n would wince.

"Tomorrow your hand will be good as new. Trust me."

"I trust you Draco. Thank you."

His eyes looked up from her wound, and Y/n was sure she could melt. He had the softest gaze ever. They fell asleep in each other's embrace, soft kisses taking away the pain.

The next morning, Y/n could hardly stiffle a laugh at the annoucement of Umbridge being suddently fired. She turned at her boyfriend, who looked smug as ever.

His eyes glimmered and his eyebrows wiggled with smugness, as he said:

"She should not have been that arrogant. Guess karma is a bitch." He shrugged.

That Malfoy boy was your everything and you knew it.

FEEL FREE TO LIKE AND SHARE!! Feedback is always welcome, love you all!

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liliesinrequiem · 3 years

Text

Poem

A/N: I’m back! With another Kaeya fic. This is technically set during the Windblume Festival with certain changes. I hope you all enjoy <3.

This could also be read as a sequel to: Forfeit (Kaeya x AFAB!Reader). It doesn’t have to be read before this one really since you aren’t really missing much. You can if you want.

Pairing: Kaeya x Reader

Summary: Kaeya convinces you to write a poem during the Windblume Festival. You refuse to show it to him after hearing his ‘poem’ and avoid him for the rest of the day until you were unable to.

CW: Mentions of alcohol

“Why don’t you try and write a love poem then?” he asked. A teasing smile on his face.

“My way with words is incomparable to yours,” you said. He was the most convincing person that you knew. There was a reason that he was so loved. Just from speaking with him for a little while, a person would totally be enraptured by him. A charming man, truly.

“Didn’t you write that one riddle when I had to arrest those treasure hoarders? The one that could’ve been out of a romantic novel,” he said.

“I was inspired,” you mumbled. That whole setup had been some of your finest work. The maps and the riddles were something that you had dedicated some time to. Of course, he’d given a lot of guidelines as to how they should be. You’d just done a lot of the creative work. Everything just fell into place so well for him in the end. The dinner you earned was nice as well.

“Then be inspired again. I’ll show you mine if you write one and show me,” he said.

A fair trade you supposed as you took a piece of paper. The poem came easier to you than you expected. Maybe your own heart did have some inspiration that you did not desire to admit.

“That’s what you were writing this entire time?” you asked after his poem was read out loud by Venti. You were tightly holding onto your own poem, wrinkling its prior smoothness. Whatever thoughts you had in mind of sharing your own poem had vanished into thin air.

“Poetic, no?” he asked. You glared at him. Poetic? Sure. A love poem? No. Beyond that, when did he even have time to learn the language of the Hilichurl?

“I feel like I have to fail you for this,” said Venti, confused by what he had read.

“Please do,” you said.

“Did you write a poem, (Y/N)?” asked Paimon, pointing at the piece of paper in your hand. Everyone’s eyes turned to you and you could see how the Captain was smiling. Embarrassment filled your body as you folded it quickly and shook your head. He would not manage to win.

“Nope! This is just a list of things I have to do at the moment. Now, if you’ll excuse me!” You stored the poem in your dress as you left the room and the building. You’d rather be outside and help out there than remain within the same room as Kaeya.

---

“Lumine!” you said as you saw her a while later. You’d been helping out Noelle with carrying around some materials that were needed for the festival. But your friend was much faster and stronger than you were so she was probably at the destination.

“(Y/N)! Captain Kaeya asked us to search for you! He wants to talk to you,” said Paimon.

“Oh? He couldn’t search for me himself?” you asked. A question that probably sounded meaner than you intended it to.

“He said he was too busy finishing up some paperwork for Jean,” answered Lumine, “So we came looking for you.

“You’re too kind. No wonder you’re an Honorary Knight. But I can’t go right now.” You continued, “Tell him that I can speak with him later.” You really did not want to see him. You felt...slightly hurt. You weren’t even sure why you were. Actually, you did know why you were upset. You just didn’t want to admit it. In truth, you had hoped that his poem would actually have meaning. Unrealistically and stupidly, you had hoped that his poem might’ve been a confession.

But that was the thing about your relationship with him. It was more of something that you were walking in the dark, with no real designation of whether or not you were going in the right direction, and hoping that you end up at the right place. For all you knew, Kaeya was probably waiting for the day that he’d drop you and move onto the next one. Even with that possibility, you continued giving your heart to him. Whether that was stupid or not, you were still not fully sure. Some days it was worth it and others, not so much.

“We could help you so that you can talk with him. He said it was urgent,” explained Lumine. You didn’t doubt that he had told her that. He probably believed that if you were told that it was urgent, you’d drop everything and run to see what he wanted to see. You usually did but you felt that you had to hold your ground for a while longer.

“Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll talk to him when I can. He’ll understand,” you said. You bid them farewell and continued carrying the crate.

---

You’d managed to avoid him for most of the day. That was until you were called to Angel’s Share and asked to take him home. When you asked why they couldn’t, excuses came flying at you. Sister Rosaria said that she couldn’t as she had business to take care of and Diluc couldn’t either since he had to close up the place. Convenient that they both chose to do that now.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” You only mumbled a ‘no problem’ in response to Diluc’s gratitude as you pulled Kaeya to lean on your shoulder. The promise of free drinks motivated you to get the job done quickly.

“(Y/N)-” “Captain, be quiet. I would prefer if you didn’t get sick on me,” you cut him off. The walk back to his apartment was a hassle. It was either that he continued trying to ramble to you or that he was leaning too much on you and you had to take small breaks. You truly were exhausted from those crates earlier.

“Where’s your key?” you asked when the two of you stopped in front of his door. A fruitless question as his mind was somewhere else you would soon realize.

“How come you didn’t come to me when I asked earlier?” he asked. You didn’t answer as you checked both his pockets and fished out the key from the left one. To ask the question again would probably cause him to start talking about something else and you most definitely did not want to talk about anything.

“(Y/N),” he said.

“What?” Your voice sounded more angry than you meant. You pushed the door open and kicked it to close when the both of you got through. You sat him on his bed and started to look around the cabinets for a glass to fill it with water.

“Have you been ignoring me?” He sounded hurt. A rare sight to ever behold when he was constantly brushing everything off. Kaeya was rarely a vulnerable person. Years of having built up the walls around him to keep people out led him to being closed off from everyone. The fewest times that he was vulnerable was in the dead of night or when he was drunk. Every single thing that he ever expressed during those times had been stored into your heart.

“I’ve been busy today,” you answered as you handed him the glass of water. You turned to start looking for some clothes for the night. You doubted that he’d appreciate sleeping in his work outfit.

“That’s never stopped you before,” he countered as he drank the water. No response came from you since you knew him to be right. There was one time where you had to finish up something for Lisa and stopped doing it because he’d bothered you enough to do something for him. The librarian was upset and you only barely learned your lesson.

“Was it because of my poem?” You wondered how he even managed to figure that out.

“Maybe,” you said, “I just expected a bit more from you.” The poem that you had written for him was still in one of your dress pockets and felt like a stone that weighed on you. You’d poured a bit of your heart into it and the courage to give it to him withered away when Venti read his poem.

“I wrote an actual one,” he said. You placed some clothes on the nightstand and turned to look at him.

“Is that so?” you asked. You steadied him from falling over after you made your question. Just how much alcohol did he consume? The tab he had must be astronomical. Maybe not as bad as Venti’s or what yours had been at one point, but it had to be huge. Though you were jealous of his ability to remain coherent enough with everything in his system.

“Yes,” he said, “It’s here.” He pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his shirt. “Read it,” he said as he pushed the paper into your hands.

You shook your head. For all you knew, it could be another joke and you weren’t sure that you could handle it. At least not with him looking at you while you read it. “Let’s get you to bed, Kaeya.”

“But I want you to read it,” he whined.

“And I want you to sleep because you’re drunk,” you said.

After you’d spent some time convincing him to change and to get ready for bed, you sat down at the edge of the bed and opened up the paper. He’d fallen asleep rather quickly and you breathed a sigh of relief as your eyes traveled to the first words on the paper.

“(Y/N),” began the poem.

---

In the early morning, Kaeya woke up with a mild headache. Memories of the day before were hazy as the hangover hit him hard. He looked at his nightstand and saw a glass of water and a small bottle of medicine.

Beside the nightstand was a small piece of paper. On it, there were three words: To My Captain.

#kaeya x reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x you #kaeya genshin impact #kaeya alberich #angst? sorta #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you

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