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ryoskuna · 4 years

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⭑ promised eternity | hades!sukuna x persephone!reader au headcanons (PT 1).

A/N: ... yo... i would like to say whoever threatened to send me toe pics, a-plus, bc you made me release this into the wild. * insert megumi meme face here * but this is just HEADCANONS for a hades!sukuna and persephone!reader-esque universe, and because y’all are as thirsty as I am, it includes some SFW and NSFW headcanons. grab your water bottles, and I apologize for my subconscious now. (cause it’s always on auto-pilot and giving me wild af ideas.) We shall all thirst... over OG form sukuna as well, because ,, well, big daddy, do i need to say more??? also this is some seriously fantasy like au , sort of, it takes place during sukuna’s original time as a curse, when gojo’s ancestor was after him, and hints wildly on that, and also will hit moments where the sorcerers are of course, hunting him. feel free to give me your thoughts and ask questions, because i love you all. onward to the THIRST! ( also side note, promised eternity is the name of the potential series that may come from this. )

this is part one of the headcanons, and they’re all SFW.

being married to the king of curses is not easy. it’s awkward at first, and then later on, comforting at best. to have someone who believes in you, roots you on (even if he’s kind of mean about it at first), is better than having nothing. you’ve been looked at for so long as a “curse” for your untrained cursed energy, that to have someone who sees potential in your “god” given gifts instead of spite (or only useful in preventing a raid) is refreshing. and unsettling at first.

speaking of that, sukuna basically rescued you from your village. for the entirety of your life before him, your cursed energy has gone unchecked, untrained. so it fluctuates with your emotions. it’s useful when you summon your wrath to defend your village or when your untrained reverse cursed techniques help the crops grow— but any other time, you are known as a curse. your emotions grow sad or you grow angry, and people die accidentally. ( hence your harbinger of death nickname. ) sukuna, during his many trips to your village for taxes and the occasional “recruitment” of healthy women and me, he has noticed you. and he has noticed your vast amount of cursed energy. it’s all but too easy for him to command the head of your village to hand you over — your parent(s) have no say.

sukuna is generous enough to compensate them, and the head of village. it’s one of few kindnesses he’ll show, besides eventually to you. sukuna will never tell, not till much later on, that he noticed you in every visit he’s ever made. that you deserved better than the mockery and scorn of your people. he offers to burn them all for you, but your mercy says otherwise.

speaking of when he came to get you, he was 10 feet tall, dressed in a black montsuki kimono and hakama. all four of his arms are on display, and all four of his eyes are on you.

you, are in a shiromuku, complete with a wataboshi — you and your mother (or a village woman) made it, but it will not be the last of your “bridal” gowns as you travel through at least five villages before arriving at sukuna’s fortress-like palace. sukuna has prepared you both a uchikake style kimono (adorned with pinks and reds), a hikifurisode style kimono (black, but also adorned with whites and golds and reds)— lastly is the Tomesode, which you arrive to your new home in, adorned in pins and signs of your new status. it’s here you discover you are not meant to be a mistress, you are meant to be a wife. his wife. his first, and his only (or at least he’ll try to keep it that way).

sukuna does not make time for much. rumors of him are notorious of his over-indulgence, guided by only his pleasure and displeasure, which is slightly true. but he makes time for you. you aren’t like the others he’s taken in his time, whether for his entertainment or to be in his service (you are not his toy as he has a habit of disposing of his playthings once they bore him); you’re his wife, but you are also this powerful being, who if trained, will become even more powerful. if you were a sorcerer, you’d rival him — but you are his equal.

he tries to make you feel that way by shrinking down to your size. he drops his 10 ft height (even through he can grow larger), to 6′8 or 7ft (pick your preference). it helps him watch the way you fight him, and he’ll change his height to help you train to fight enemies of different sizes.

sukuna’s loyalty to you forms in the midst of gifts. he’s lavish and again, over-indulgent. before your lips ask for it, somehow you already have whatever you desire. however, he also realizes, the more that he’s around you that gifts don’t make you happy (as pleasing as they are). being in his company is what makes you happy. oh, and sukuna’s very careful to touch you. his strength knows no bounds, until you touch him. you have to be the one that touches him first. it’s a brush over the knuckles, your tiny hand wrapping around his big one.

the way you manipulate plants to your advantage as a defense will never not amaze him. the way you use vines to wrap around him to capture him is genius, and the sneak attack you give has gotten better. he’ll still tease you ask “is that the best you can do” with your hits to provoke more of your strength, and he’ll give praise at the end, in his own way. (more touches.)

sukuna’s untouched garden becomes yours as one of your wedding gifts. it’s yours, and all the servants know it. everyone on his grounds knows it is yours.

you haven’t realized it since your arrival, but there are female servants that are your handmaidens, but for the harem that sukuna supposedly keeps — you have no idea where they are. it isn’t till one of your handmaidens inform you that he freed them with compensation. it’s not an uncommon practice for him, you’re told. he does not keep anyone against their will, and he never forced the girls he kept to do anything. for him, war and fighting made his blood rush just as much as sex could.

you and sukuna’s cursed energy manages to mingle to create a rare flower, one that turns from a gold color to red at the tips of the petals. he later tells you that beautiful things can come from destruction, and it makes you think of yourself, and who you’ve become with his guidance as you look into his eyes.

the first time you sleep in his bed with him, he lays still on one side of the bed (which is unusual for him) until you beckon him closer. he meets you halfway in the middle, where you lay your head on his chest and listen to the sound of him breathing. he’ll never admit it at first, but the comfort you give to him is startling, but welcomed. he wraps two arms around you, but it isn’t until you’re sleep that all four hold you gently against him, as if those four arms are shields to keep you safe.

He admires your strength and the various ways it shows itself. He has since your “wedding day”, when you shed no tears at being taken from your family. When you told him “do what you will”, but also in your rage he tapped into when you wrapped thorny vines around him when he provoked you by calling you “a murderous curse of a girl”. He apologizes for this comment at some point, while you two lay together in the garden.

he presents to you a crown, shaped after the marks on his forehead (preserved through a picture painted on a fan). it is two horns towards the ceiling, made of black metal the color of obsidian.

sukuna enjoys towering over you. and more importantly, once it no longer startles you, you enjoy the safety that his height reminds you of.

the form of trust sukuna has with you is seen by the servants when assigns advisors to you, as well as teaches you how to deal with trials when they come forth. you are his rose with thorns now, and you know how to use them.

someone speaks ill of sukuna? you are reminding them of their place: “speak ill of your king again with that tongue of yours and i’ll take it”

OKAY BADASS, and sukuna is all for it, just “that’s my s/o”

and lord, the pet names this man has for you: “my dove” “my love” “my moon” and you with: “my sun and stars” (thank u got)... he’s got a lot of pet names.

he likes to hold you on his side for some reason, whenever he can. honestly, he just likes you close.

basically, you’re tough as hell and powerful as hell and you grow into your added strength and he loves it.

can you say POWER COUPLE OF THE AGES

#persephone & hades au ft. sukuna.#persephone and hades au ft. sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna.#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk hcs #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk.#ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna

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kaedynce-is-a-writer · 3 years

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How to Write an Autistic Character

So, you’re a neurotypical, otherwise allistic, or possibly neurodivergent person wanting to write an autistic character, but you’re not sure as to how you want them written?

Well, my fellow writers, you are in luck! In this post, I will explain how to write an autistic character while steering clear of any harmful stereotypes that are seen in neurodivergent characters in most types of mainstream media.

Now before I dive in, my biggest thing is to talk to other autistics! Like I will say in this post and many more in the future, autism isn't a "one size fits all" neurotype!

1.) The first thing I want to say to y’all is that we’re not all young cishet white boys. Some autistic people are non-binary, some are black, some are women, some are older than 25, some are gay, and let's be honest--it's okay! You're valid!

While, yes, quite a handful of autistic folks are boys, it's important to note that you shouldn't make all of your autistic characters young, white, cishet boys, since older folks, trans folks, non-binary folks, and women who are autistic and of a different racial/ethnic background need representation in media, too.

Another thing to note when writing autistic characters is that not all autistic LGBTQ+ folks are on the asexual spectrum. I've met a few autistic people online who are asexual or otherwise aspec, and they are some of the most amazing people I've met. However, as I've said before, not all LGBTQ+ autistic people are aspec. Some are lesbians, some are bisexual, and some can be pan, too!

2.) The next thing I want to say is that autism isn't a "one size fits all" neurotype. What traits can be displayed in one autistic person aren't always necessarily as prominent in another autistic person. One autistic person can be extremely extroverted whereas another can be introverted or non-speaking (they can still communicate with other people using AAC or sign language!) One autistic person can be hypersensitive to loud sounds whereas another autistic person can have a hard time hearing things (auditory processing disorder). I am actually the latter of both of these statements (I'm introverted as hell and I'm bad with putting my thoughts into words most of the time and I need to have closed captions on when I'm watching TV unless it's something that I've watched a million times). But as I've stated before, autism isn't a "one size fits all" neurotype, meaning that no two autistic people are the same.

3.) The third thing that I want y'all to note is that we stim. A lot. More-so than the neurotypical/allistic population, even though everybody stims in some way, shape, or form. Stimming can be used as a way for us to express our emotions or needs, whether we're happy, trying to evade sensory overload episodes (sometimes it's unavoidable and I understand that, I went through those too), or whether we're in a meltdown and need to go someplace where there's less sensory input. Some of the most common stims are hand-flapping, rocking back and forth, and vocalizing random sounds we make! There are other types of stims, too, such as smelling things (olfactory), looking at things that mesmerize us (visual), and listening to the same song on repeat sometimes (auditory). And even feeling things that are soft can count as stims, too!

4.) When it comes to emotions or humor, we are not like Rain Man or Sheldon Cooper. This is one harmful stereotype that you need to avoid like the plague when writing an autistic character. We promise you that we are not emotionless, nor do we lack a sense of humor.

However, autistic people do tend to struggle with reading social cues and pick up one's emotions based on looks (I had a lot of trouble doing this as a child, and trust me, I still have trouble with this), and the former part of the statement may end up causing autistic people to either be left out of the conversation altogether or interrupt said conversation. But unlike what most mainstream media with an autistic character says, we actually do experience the same range of emotions that a neurotypical and/or allistic person would, and we do have a sense of humor.

5.) And the last thing I want to mention is that autistic people have intense fixations on certain subjects, otherwise known as hyperfixations and/or special interests.

What is your autistic character's special interest/hyperfixation? Do they do research on their special interest/hyperfixation? Do they do artwork based on their special interest/hyperfixation?

An example of special interests I'd like to give is actually one of my own. I'm very much a metalhead/alt kid of sorts, and my favorite band tends to be Linkin Park. If I'm asked about Linkin Park, I will be more than likely to give an infodump on the band's history, given that I'm not overstimulated or burnt out from the day's activities. This also includes the history of people within the band, like Chester or Mike (since those are the two members that I know most about).

More will come in part two! Stay tuned!

SOTD: "Therefore I Am" -- Billie Eilish

#writer #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writing community #actuallyautistic #actually autistic #actually autistic writer #autistic writer #how to #writing autistic characters #autistic characters #autistic headcanon #autistic representation

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Heart-Shaped Wreckage

Day 16, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Heart-Shaped Wreckage

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger

Prompt: Songfic

Rating: T

TW: implied violence and near-death experience (but nothing explicit)

A/N: This is the part two follow-up to Rewrite the Stars.

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Hermione’s hand trembles as she reaches over to her nightstand and turns on the light. She can’t sleep, which is a common occurrence as of late. Where she once relished in the quiet of her flat, now the serenity is too much to bear. She is running out of changes to make that will erase the worst, most painful decision of her life. The ultra-soft linens she purchased for her bed are anything but comforting and luxurious. They feel scratchy and cold, and the fresh and clean look of the white comforter with its floral patterns gives off more of a sterile vibe than the new slate she’d been hoping for. Instead, it serves as another stark reminder that all the vibrancy and color had evaporated from her life when she pushed Ron away.

It’s been 62 days since the disaster of the Auror gala, and 50 since Hermione’s received any form of contact from him. Ron has honored her wishes to break things off no matter how much it pained them both to do so. Part of her still wishes he’d floo into her fireplace or knock on her door, begging her to give them another chance. But she knows deep down none of that will ever happen. He is a man of respect, and he will always abide by her requests, even if she no longer wants to keep them herself.

It’s better this way. She reminds herself of the constant scrutiny they’d face if they stayed together, and the hurt and discomfort even at the mere thought indicate that her feelings haven’t changed. There is no way she could put him through that sort of subjection just so she can be selfish and happy. Their lives are too different, and they live in a world where the acceptance of all kinds of love doesn't exist.

So, in the grueling months since they ended things for a second time, Hermione has worked to make changes, some drastic, some minute, in an effort to force herself to move on. She is too proud to let anyone in her life know the pain that she feels with every conscious breath that she takes. Hermione has thrown herself into her work, staying at school late to mark papers, redecorate the classroom, or develop new lesson plans to benefit the students and create more hands-on experiences.

And once she realized that her preparation was complete through the end of next term, Hermione turned to her flat. Weekends have been spent on home projects. Painting the walls, updating the decor, and cleaning every square inch of her flat, all to help her forget.

But the problem is, her heart doesn’t want to forget. Every book she sits down to read reminds her of time spent with Ron. Her renewed efforts in the kitchen never fail to bring a smile or a chuckle to her lips as her mind traitorously wonders what Ron would think if he were here to observe the barely edible mess she’s created. Yet, Hermione is not naive enough to believe that it will change anything. She knows it won’t.

As she sits up in the enormous queen-sized bed, she reaches for the parchment that lays in tri-folds on the nightstand. The paper is worn, with visible wrinkles preventing it from lying flat and tear stains causing the corners to curl as she unfolds the delicate sheet. Hermione’s not sure why she’s opening the letter to read. She knows it won’t bring her the comfort she craves or the answers she desires.

The messy scrawl gives way to Ron’s only correspondence with her since the last time they spoke, and she latches onto it as if it’s the only life preserver on a capsizing vessel. It’s the only thing she has left. The only reminder of the life she could have had.

I’m not scared to tell the truth.

I went to hell and back and I went with you

Remind me what we were before,

When you said you are mine, and I am yours

Hermione,

There’s a lot I want to say and I’m not sure if I can fit it all in this letter, but I’m going to try. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I did mean everything I said that night. I’m not afraid to tell you how I feel. What we have, er, had, I guess, is special. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life, and I don’t think I ever will. And it’s not just about the case and finding comfort in each other.

When we broke things off after graduation, I felt like a part of me was missing. The Auror academy kept me busy, and sure, my life moved on, but I wasn’t really happy. Not as happy as I was when we were together. And then fate brought us back together and we decided to make another go of it, that’s when I realized that you were what was missing. You make my life so much brighter, so meaningful, and I’m sorry if I sound like a sap, but I need you to know how I feel.

I would give up everything for you. Social status means nothing to me. If the Aurors sack me because of my personal relations, then so be it. I’ll work with George, or find something else. If my family can’t be supportive, then it will be their loss. I’m not willing to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it, and I refuse to give in to the Ministry’s stance on bloody purity.

I know this is all probably ‘too little, too late’ or whatever that Muggle saying is that you like to use, and I promise you I’m going to respect your wishes. But I had to tell you. I had to let you know because...well...there’s this mission that’s come up. It’s going to be bloody dangerous and Robards asked for volunteers because he knows how risky it’s going to be. Anyone who goes isn’t guaranteed to come back and, well, I won’t go into the details, but I volunteered to go.

I know, I know, I can hear you in the back of my head telling me that it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and not to throw my life away because we’re not together, but Hermione, it’s been twelve days and I can’t go on day to day like this. I can’t. Working is the only thing that eases the pain and gets my mind off of everything. I’ll be as safe as I can be, I promise.

I hope you find the happiness you deserve. You’re brilliant, always remember that. Just know that I love you, and it’s because I love you that I’m going to try to let go.

Ron

Tears threaten in Hermione’s eyes once again. It’s no different than every other time she reads the letter. Nothing has changed; Ron’s gone, still on his mission six weeks later and no end in sight. Hermione is sure this is the reason she’s not sleeping. With every passing day and no news of Ron’s whereabouts, she turns to the only object that can provide her with any source of comfort: the letter.

After three weeks of constant worrying and bags under her eyes so prevalent that even her eight-year-old students noticed, Hermione caved and wrote to Harry. Even though they can’t be together, she knows deep down that she can still care about his well-being.

Harry’s response had been timely and brief. He didn’t have details of the mission but reassured Hermione that no news is good news. Hermione thanked him and asked for updates if it wasn’t too much trouble. The two had been friendly in school, growing closer as her relationship with Ron blossomed as well. She didn’t expect his alliance to stray from his best friend but still appreciated his willingness to be cordial with her after everything she’d put Ron through.

“Please come home to me,” she whispers into the darkness.

Her heart aches more as her eyes hover over the parchment once more, searching for the three words that she knows she’ll never read too many times: I love you.

For some reason, this three a.m. readthrough hits differently. She carefully folds the parchment, places it back on the nightstand and turns off the light. There are still a few more hours left to find sleep.

Hermione tosses and turns as she attempts to focus on sleep and quieting her thoughts. At some point, a flash illuminates the night sky, and that’s when the pieces begin forming more vividly in her mind. The clap of thunder follows seconds later, and with it, a realization is born. As the rain begins its slow cadence of pitter-patters on the window, the brevity of Hermione’s decision hits her with the force of the storm strengthening outside.

I don’t know much, but I know myself

And I don’t want to love anybody else

So let’s break the spell and lift the curse

Remember when we fell for each other head first

There is only one question that forms in her mind. One question that surpasses any of the other thoughts she’s managed to cope with over the last two months.

What have I done?

None of her previous attempts to move past this matter anymore, even though it’s too late, and there’s nothing she can do.

Three days later, Hermione is finishing up her night-time routine when there’s a knock on her door. She looks at the antique clock on the wall that reads 10:45. Her heart plummets to her stomach. No one calls this late at night with good news. She stands frozen in place, amazed that the glass of water in her hand hasn’t spilled to the floor as a result of her shock.

Another knock, and Hermione manages to lift her feet from the floor. She reaches over and sets the glass on the counter before pulling her dressing gown tight around her waist. The carpet feels thick and heavy, as if her feet are wading through mud and sludge as she makes the torturous trek to the door. Five steps feel like five thousand. She’s sure all of this has happened in a matter of seconds, but it feels like minutes. Maybe the caller will be gone by the time her eye reaches the peephole.

Her hope is instantly quashed when she peers through the tiny circle to see an older gentleman that she doesn’t quite recognize at first. He’s wearing an overcoat and tan bowler hat, and is looking down at a torn piece of parchment. A pair of cerulean blue eyes drift back up to the number on her flat’s door, and that’s when the familiarity hits Hermione like a muggle slamming into the brick wall that separates platforms nine and ten at King’s Cross Station.

She can feel the blood drain from her face as dizziness overcomes her. Falling forward, she clasps onto the doorknob to steady herself. The noise catches the gentleman’s attention.

“Er, Ms. Granger. Are you home? It’s very important that I speak to you. Please, I mean no harm if you’ll open up.”

Hermione struggles to find her voice to respond. Her hands are shaking so violently that she can barely latch on to the deadbolt that has been fastened for the evening.

“Oh, er, please forgive me. We haven’t formally met, but it’s Mr. Weasley out here. Ron’s father.”

Hearing Ron’s name gives Hermione the strength that she needs to click the deadbolt to the left as she manages to turn the door handle with her other hand. Pulling the door open, she slowly looks up at the elder Weasley.

“Is—is everything okay?” Her voice is raw and weak, and she’s sure the shock is the only thing preventing the tears from pooling in her eyes.

“Er, no, it’s not. May I come in?” His eyes dart around, as if he doesn’t want to discuss the matter out in the open.

Hermione opens the door wider to let him in and manages to shut it when he’s through the entryway. Her free hand fiddles with her wand that’s still inside her pocket—just in case—though she fears no imminent threat from Ron’s father.

"Ms. Granger, I’m sorry for calling so late. I wouldn’t be here at all, actually, if it wasn’t for Harry mentioning—ah, well, that’s no matter...”

Mr. Weasley is rambling, and Hermione has trouble processing his words. Her breath catches at the mention of Harry’s name, which draws Mr. Weasley’s attention to her, helping him get to the point of his late-night visit.

“Ron’s been gravely injured. He’s at St. Mungo’s now. They brought him in an hour or so ago. Molly and I met Harry and Ginny there as soon as we heard. He’s stable for now, but the Healers are unsure if it will hold.”

Hermione grasps the back of the couch to keep from collapsing to the ground. A sob bursts from her throat as the tears that threatened moments ago now spill freely down her cheeks.

“Wh-what happened?”

The words are spoken with great effort.

“We don’t have many details. The Aurors are still trying to clean up loose ends on the mission, but it sounds like the operation was successful thanks to Ron’s efforts. One of the target’s accomplices hit Ron with an unknown spell before he was caught.”

Even through Hermione’s own devastation, she can hear the tremor in Ron’s father’s voice. He’s scared, though he’s hiding it well as he continues to explain what he knows. There’s a sheen in his eyes as the moisture appears, emotions raw as he finishes bringing Hermione up to speed.

“Everyone was apprehended, and Ron appears to be the only one who got hurt. We should know more in the coming hours.”

Hermione can only offer a blank stare as she processes the information. His letter said it would be a dangerous mission. He didn’t sound as if he was hopeful that he’d come back alive. Or maybe he was hoping—no, don’t think like that. It was her fault that he’d gone in the first place. By some miracle, he was still hanging on, and the haziness of Hermione’s previous decisions about their relationship begins to give way. The fact that his father is there in her flat informing her has to mean something.

“Why are you here?”

It comes out harsher than Hermione intends, but after their less than amicable meeting at the gala, Hermione can’t be bothered with pleasantries. Even if his wife’s behavior was ruder than his own.

The older man pulls out a handkerchief and wipes beads of sweat off his brow as he sighs deeply.

“Ms. Granger—”

“Hermione.”

“Right, yes, Hermione. I am aware that we did not get off on the right foot. I’m sorry I never introduced myself on the night of the gala. We weren’t expecting Ron to have a date. I’ll admit that Molly and I were ignorant in the way we treated you that night, and for that, I am sorry. Nothing can take back our words, nor can it change the way others view you based on your blood status, but please know how wrong we were.

“Ron was devastated after you broke things off after the gala, and I suppose that was largely due to our behavior. It’s clear to us how much he loves you, and we don’t want to stand in the way of that. So, when Harry mentioned you had asked for news and wanted to come tell you, I insisted that I should be the one to see you. Please don’t let our ignorance stand in the way of your happiness.”

Hermione stands there, listening to Arthur’s apology. While she appreciates the olive branch, part of her can’t help but feel that it’s too little, too late, and a new wave of tears flood her eyes as she sees those exact words in Ron’s letter. She offers a curt nod to let him know she appreciates the gesture, even as her voice can’t find the words.

“I won’t keep you. I should be getting back, but Ron is in room 408. You are on the approved list as a family member if you decide you want to see him, and Molly’s agreed to let you stay with him if you’d like.”

Arthur gives a weak nod as he dabs his forehead once more before making his way to the door. It takes Hermione a moment to realize what’s happening, and as soon as everything processes, she’s pushing herself off the back of the sofa and calling out to Arthur.

Look at this heart shaped wreckage

What have we done?

We’ve got scars from battles nobody won

We can start over, better

Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces

Let the broken pieces go

“I’m coming! Please, er, if you don’t mind waiting. I just need to get changed—”

“Of course.”

Arthur offers a paternal smile as Hermione rushes into her bedroom and throws on the first thing she can find. She almost forgets to grab her bag as she throws on her coat and locks the door behind her.

Moments later, they’re entering St. Mungo’s, and Mr. Weasley leads the way through the main hall to the lifts. It’s only as the gate shuts that nerves begin to bubble up in her stomach. She’s been running on the adrenaline of the news, and now she can’t help but wonder how the rest of Ron’s family will react when they see her. Or, what’s worse, how Ron will react if and when he wakes up.

When. It has to be when.

As if sensing her trepidation, Mr. Weasley places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The lift opens, and the first person she sees is Harry in the waiting room. Her feet gravitate toward him of their own accord, and when Harry sees her, he meets her halfway and wraps her in a tight hug.

“He’s going to be okay. He has to,” Harry whispers in her ear.

Hermione nods, forcing her brain to believe his words. When they let go, Ginny hugs Hermione next, which helps her feel more relaxed.

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

After one final squeeze, Ginny lets go so Hermione can follow Arthur down the hall to Ron’s room. He opens the door, and Hermione enters the sterile, white room. The most color she sees is his shock of red hair against the fluffy white pillow that’s cradling his head. Her heart begins beating faster as she spots his mum sitting vigil at his side.

Mrs. Weasley looks up to see the two standing there. A hard, stony look immediately sets on her face in defense before it softens slightly. She stands and walks over to Hermione. She knows that she’ll have a harder time winning over the Weasley matriarch based on this interaction, but if Ron wakes up—and will take her back—she’s willing to do anything to make it work.

“Let’s give her some privacy, Molly. The healers will call us in if he wakes up,” Arthur coaxes his wife out of the room as he gives Hermione one last reassuring smile.

When the door closes behind them, Hermione walks up to the chair Molly was perched at and takes a seat. She moves the chair closer to the bed as she observes Ron in his sleeping state. A tear slips down her face as her hand reaches out to take his. It isn’t cold, but it’s also not as warm as she’s used to.

“Please wake up. You have to wake up,” she pleads, choking back a fresh wave of tears.

I can’t find you in the dark

Will we get back to who we are?

And I can’t fix this on my own

Our love is still the best thing I’ve ever known

She’s not sure how long she sits there, watching his chest slowly rise and fall as he breathes. No matter how hard she tries, Hermione can’t look away, for fear that his breathing might stop if she does. She’s so focused on his chest, that she doesn’t see his eyes flutter open.

“Er-my-nee.”

His voice is breathy, with more rasp than she’s used to, but she’d have given all the gold in her Gringotts vault to hear her name on his lips again if she had to. He lifts the hand that she’s holding, and Hermione leans in closer to press her face into it.

“You came,” he whispers.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she lifts off the seat and leans over him, capturing his lips with hers. They’re cracked and dry, no doubt from being undercover in who knows what kind of conditions, but none of that matters. Ron’s alive, and he’s kissing her back.

Look at this heart shaped wreckage

What have we done?

We’ve got scars from battles nobody won

We can start over, better

Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces

Let the broken pieces go

“I’m so sorry.” The apology seems frail as she mutters the words against his lips.

His other hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and wipe the tears from her face. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t ever do something that stupid again.”

“Only if you give me a reason not to.”

Let the broken pieces go

Just hold on to each other tonight

“I will, I promise.”

She pulls away to look into his tired, bright blue eyes that carry the hope she feels in her chest.

“Does that mean…?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know what life is going to throw at me, Ron, but I only want to take it if you’re by my side.”

“It’s about time you came to your senses.”

The hand that’s still cupping her cheek adjusts to pull her back to him as he does his best to crash his lips into hers for a searing, though still tender, kiss. His breath is hot as he groans against her mouth, solidifying their reunification. There’s an unspoken agreement to let the broken pieces of the past go.

Tonight, they’ll start over, rewriting the stars to match their love story the way it’s meant to be.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #tw: implied death #tw: implied violence #romione #ron weasley x hermione granger #hermione granger x ron weasley

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sif-the-tsunami · 4 years

Text

When I Was His Wife

“Well I was looking forward to/ staying here forever/ ‘cause you asked me to/ Didn’t think I could do better/ So I settled down/ in this ten cent town/ it’s about to break me.” These are the Best Years of my Life- Pistol Annies

This is the follow up to “When You Fall Apart” Which is one of my favorites that I’ve written.

(there is Sy just carrying the weight of all of my own internal chaos)

A/N thank you for everyone who encouraged me to write this, I adore Sy as a character. He seemed like someone who could pull off the impossible. I made some choices in here that not everyone will agree with. Tell me I’m wrong in the comments an we can discuss it there.

Pairing: Sy and Josephine

Warnings: again all of them. discussion of infidelity, Discussion of child loss, discussion of unprotected sexual intercourse, headbutting, day drinking, self medicating, therapy, swearing fealty on ones hunting knife, discussion of knife play, I’m probably missing something

Everything is going below the cut this time to save anyone who doesn’t like this kind of stuff from unpleasantness.

word count just shy of 7.5K

Thank you to @inlovewithhisblueeyes for letting me bounce ideas off of you, love you sweet girl

tagging: @oddsnendsfanfics @willkatfanfromasia @rocket44 @feralrunaway @littlewrenofrivia @summersong69 @coffeebooksandfandom @klaine-92 @nothingright @cavillsim @watery-lane @above-average-ass-bitch

unbeta’d

I slept for the next two days, Mama only woke me up long enough to drink some water once she started worrying about me. She managed to wrangle my out of my clothes and into one of Daddy’s shirts we got him that she left in the drawer. My phone was dead, but thankfully Mama and I had the same kind so I could charge it today. What fresh hell was going to be waiting for me on my digital leash? I lay there for a while, the murmur of conversation in the other room was comforting. Mama left a fresh glass of water some time recently, it was still chilly with only a little condensation forming around the sides. The ache in my chest was almost unbearable. The hole in my heart was Syverson sized, being sober made the edges of that abyss feel even more raw and pronounced. I don’t know if my liver could handle me drowning my sorrow much more, but I would give anything to not feel it. I need to make this feeling of worthlessness go away.

When I finally decided to rejoin the land of the living, Mama and my brother Teddy were talking at the kitchen table, discussing about if they should come with me to go get my things or if I should call the sheriff’s office to be monitored. I stayed behind the corner long enough to let them finish what they were going on about.

“If I know Jo well enough, she’s going to need someone to keep her from burning the whole house down with him in it tied to a chair,” my brother chuckled. “She’s been taking care of herself for years. You should have seen how she handled one of these girls who came up to us once on Post.

“Jo was loading up the car when this prissy little thing came walking up, she must have thought she was some kind of hot shit. You would have been so proud of her Mama, the girl said to her that she had been sleeping with James during their deployment. All Jo said back to her was ‘You’ve both been back for something like three months, right, have you seen him since?’ Little Miss Hot Shit stuttered and said ‘Well not yet,’ like she had been really holding out that he was going to. ‘He doesn’t have my new phone number.’ Jo just tiled her head to the side. Smiled at her real sweetly and told her, ‘Baby girl, he’s not going to. He knows how to find you. You were just a rental car to him, sweetie bell. Ford Fiestas are fun as hell to ride but let’s be honest, you aren’t going to pick a Fiesta over the Mercedes Benz you have at home. You aren’t the first and you sure as hell won’t be the last, now go on and get out of here before I ruin the rest of your day like you tried to ruin mine.’ One of the other officer’s wives came up to her and said she was amazed that she handled her so well without breaking Miss Prissy Pant’s face. She just said ‘I’m too pretty to go to prison, Kathy.’ And we hoped in the car. You raised one tough lady, Mama.”

“How many times has that happened, Theodore, I need to know.”

“She has only told me about four women meeting her face to face. The two pregnant girls who got knocked up to get out of their deployments, Prissy Pants, and one who thought that James was in love with her. She evidently broke down in tears on the tarmac when Josie jumped into his arms and he swung her around. But she would get letters tucked into the windshield of her car for months whenever he returned from deployment.”

“You two kept this from me for years, why?”

“Jo said that this was her problem, don’t you remember how you handled it when her first boyfriend ran out on her on prom night? She cried to you and Dad, and you just told her that no one is worth weeping over. She’s just been trying to make you proud, Mama. Daddy might have known because I know they had a really nasty fight about a month before he died.”

I walked out after that. Mama’s eyes were red, “Good morning, baby, do you want pancakes? Bacon and eggs? What do you want, Darlin’?”

“Coffee would be a good start.” I rasped. “Can I use your charger?”

“It’s right here. Cream and sugar?”

“Black as my sense of humor, please Mama.” I said, Teddy chuckled again. I reached over and squeezed my brother’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here.”

“I got to look after my little sissy.” He replied using what he called me growing up. “So what are we doing to get over Jimmy?”

“I was thinking tattoos and day drinking?”

“Atta’ girl, Josie. Fuck that douche canoe.”

As soon as my phone was able to turn on, it sat on the counter vibrating for the next five minutes. Six missed calls from James. And seventy text messages. A few from stores I shop at, but the majority were from my husband.

“Ugh, I just don’t feel like dealing with this right now.” I said as my mom put my coffee in front of me.

“Just leave him on read. I doubt he’s hurting for company.” Mama said, in almost a snarl. I looked through a few messages. The last one was from this morning. Sweetheart, I’m worried sick about you, I miss you. Please talk to me?

“Ted, do you want to go with me to Walmart so I can get a couple day’s worth of clothes, I am just not ready to go back and I can’t live in Daddy’s old shirts.”

“Of course, we can get some booze while we are there.”

“Get yourself a bathing suit while you are there, honey, its going to be beautiful today and you can go for a swim.” Mama added.

I texted James back finally as I finished my coffee. I’m sorry I worried you, Sy, I have literally been asleep since I got here. I’m not ready.

I understand. I’m sorry, I should have seen how much I’ve been hurting you. I swear to God, I really do love you. Please, let me know what I can do for you.

Yeah, you should have, James. You should have seen how bad you’ve been treating me. You can drop off the face of the earth, that’s what you can do for me, I think spitefully. Thankfully, Mama washed my yoga pants and tank top. It would have to be alright for now. My brother let me wear one of his extra flannel shirts he kept in the back of his car. An hour later, Ted and I were at the store, picking up chips, dip, and cheap champagne. Mama loved mimosas, so I thought it was the least I could do. I grabbed a couple of sun dresses and a bikini, if I was going to be gone for a few days, I was going to come back home looking refreshed, radiant even, and not like the hot pile of garbage I was feeling like. I made a small detour to the cosmetics department, got myself a couple of face masks, hair dye, and sun screen.

“Really? Dark brown, Josie?”

“That’s as close to my natural color as I can, I’m tired of the blonde highlights. I think after this I might just let it come in. Grays and all. Who ever loves me next is going to have to just deal with me as nature intended.”

“I’m proud of you. Do you think you will leave him for good?” He said, Ted has always been very protective of me.

“Well, I certainly can’t leave him for evil, can I?” Making him laugh. One the way outside there was a truck near the front of the store with a sign that read “Puppies for sale.”

“Teddy, we need to see these puppies.” I gasped. Walking up to the truck bed I saw the sweetest little German Shepard puppies. I reached in and they all started flopping all over the place trying to get pets and love. Maybe a puppy was exactly what my hurting heart needed. We haven’t had a dog since Aika passed away. It was looking like I would never have a baby but maybe this was the kind I needed. Puppy snuggles would definitely make that Syverson shaped hole less painful.

“I’ll buy you a puppy if you divorce James.” Ted said to me, half joking.

“Shit, I can afford the puppy, pay for the divorce.” I jest back. “How much for one of the precious babies?”

“$500 a pup, mom has a pedigree, but daddy was the neighbor’s sneaky bastard.” The woman also petting the puppies said. “Mama is in the front if you want to meet her, daddy is very friendly as well.”

I start laughing uncontrollably. With tears in my eyes, I ask if any of the puppies are girls, and she pulls out a beautiful little one with floppy ears and the biggest smile I had ever seen on a dog. Oh yeah, she was meant for me.

“I’ll take her, do you take checks?” I think I’m ready to start healing.

*****

“Josephine, that son of a bitch you call your husband is here to see you.” Mama shouts from the house. It’s Sunday afternoon now, Teddy and I have exhausted all the snacks and mimosas hours ago and now we were sobering up by the pool. My new baby girl is laying next to my sun chair, chewing on her bone, wearing a pretty pink collar.

“Well, might as well let him out here.” I shout back.

“Are you sure, I can kick his ass to the curb if you want me to, baby.”

“Its okay Mama, I can handle him myself.” Sy walks out in the back yard a couple minutes later. I’m guessing Mama threatened to stick him in a meat grinder.

“I deserved that.” He said, looking thoroughly admonished. “You changed your hair, it looks really good...

“Oh bless your heart, James. That’s not even half of what you deserve.” Ted spoke up before he could finish, not moving his face towards him. He lay there in his swim trunks and dark sunglasses.

“Oh great, all three of you have been drinking. I can tell this is going to go well...” James sighed. “Who is this cutie pie, did your Ma get a new dog?”

“She’s my dog, her name is Stella Rosa.”

“I don’t think anyone asked you to come, Colonel Sanders, what are you doing here?” Ted snapped.

“Hey, I got this, okay? I’m a big girl, please, go in the house. The fuck are you doing here James?” I lift my sun glasses up.

“She’s a very sweet pup. Yeah, you are a good girl for your mama, aren’t you? I came to see you. I want to bring you home, baby, I miss you.” He’s checking out my fresh tan in my new bikini. Subtly, but he does it.

“I’m not ready. I’m not even ready to talk to you. Why would you think that I even want to come home?”

“I don’t know, I asked myself that the entire drive here. I don’t know what I’m even going to do with myself when I go home alone. Pussycat, I can’t begin to think of life without you. I know I fucked up. And I know I can’t take that back. You asked me the other day what I kept that was special just between us. I should have answered you then. All those nights where you fell asleep with your head on my chest, the evenings laying in the back of the truck looking at the stars after driving around trying to find the best nachos in town. And, baby, no matter where we go, yours are always the best. No one else ever got moments like that. You are the only woman I want to slow dance with in the middle of the night.

“You are the only person in the world that I would wait four hours in the freezing cold to get the best brisket in Austin for because you were craving bbq when we were still, you know...” He paused. I don’t think he ever stopped blaming himself for what happened. His knees were never the same after that accident, and usually whenever he stood up from kneeling, they clicked and popped painfully. He leaned a little closer spreading his legs and reached down to pet Stella. She seemed a little leery of him. It is easy to be cynical given the circumstances, but there is something about the way he is talking to me, I haven’t heard him be this earnest in years.

“When was the last time you were with someone other than me?” I can’t bring myself to look at him. I keep my eyes anywhere but on him. My body aches so badly for him to just wrap his arms around me. I miss him.

“When I got held up in Kuwait for two weeks in December...”

“December? You mean when you missed my fucking birthday. Goddammit James...” And the ache is gone. My heart shattered again. He’s going to make me cry again.

“Hey, it was after your birthday, and it was a hate fuck because I was mad that I broke yet another promise to you.”

“That doesn’t make it better.” I snap. “How many that deployment?”

“Just the one. And she’s someone who I knew was more discreet because we had that arrangement before.”

“I swear on my Daddy’s grave that if you are lying to me right now, I will end you Syverson. You couldn’t have waited a few more days?”

“I had no idea when I was going home. We boarded that fucking plane three times and had to turn back because there was a problem with it. I was two seconds away from tearing apart the first Private that so much as looked at me sideways. It felt like, at the time, the less terrible choice.”

“They sound both pretty shitty to me. You are a fucking adult James, you have to be able to control yourself or at least be responsible for your actions. If this is what you think love is, I would rather you hate me.” I stand up. Stella wags her tail excited to get away.

“Josephine, please...” He grasps my wrist, not hard, but there wasn’t anyway I was going to be able to get out of his big hand.

“Please what? Please stay so you can keep treating me like this. There are some people in this world who have no problem playing second or third fiddle, they are just thankful they are in the band. But I deserve to be your first chair, or I don’t want to play at all.”

“Mama wants to know if the jackass is staying for dinner.” Ted shouts at us.

“He going!” “I’m staying!” we yell over each other. He’s not looking at me, he’s not even looking at the pup. His eyes are somewhere else, mentally for a second he is somewhere else also.

“Baby… I… You have always been my first chair. There is no one else on earth like you. I have never done anything with these women as an act of love. It was always been, and I mean always, just a way to scratch an itch. Every time I was gone, every time things got bad, getting to come home to you was the thing that keep me going, Jo. You have been my safe harbor for the worst parts of my life.”

“James… That doesn’t excuse what you’ve done. You aren’t the man I fell for anymore. This isn’t healthy.” He let go of my wrist, and rubs his face. Those beautiful eyes of his have seen so much. For the first time I think he actually looks… broken. Is this the remorse I have been wanting to see? I try not to keep scores, especially when it comes to my loved ones. But for the first time since things went sour, he looks like I hurt him as much as he has hurt me.

Maybe there was love between us once. However there are just two broken hearts for now.

“Come on in the house, I can at least feed you before I send you back.”

“I think I will just go,” he says it quietly. “I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“Don’t be like that, I am still cooking like I’m making dinner for you, so its way too much for the three of us. Come on in, I made carnitas.”

“I’ll be in, I just need a minute.” He refuses to let me see him cry if he’s not waking up screaming, even after all this time. Whenever we could have a healing moment, he pushes me out. I went inside, and started setting the table.

“Are we poisoning his tacos?” Teddy asked me.

“That’s not the worst idea I’ve heard today.” Mama interjected.

“No, and don’t start anything. He’s eating dinner with us, don’t either of you make him feel bad. I already did that.” Sy walked in at that moment, those blue eyes of his rimmed with red. He looked defeated. The four of us ate our dinner in silence. There was a time where he would have made some kind of comment about eating me out when we had tacos. He looked at me once during the meal, I think he remembered it too. He offered to clear the plates when were all done and sat in uncomfortable silence. The cockiness I had grown accustomed to over the years was gone.

He carried himself like this when we lost our baby, he can’t take that kind of humility. At least not with me.

“Sy...” I waited until the others were out of the room. “Do you still want me to come home with you?”

“Not if it means all we are going to do is get a divorce. I can’t see you every day knowing that I will never get to be yours again. I let them do a lot of terrible things to me over the years, but that… that I can’t handle.” His voice cracked. “If you want out, I will give you everything you ask for. I won’t fight you. But please, give me a chance to fight for you.”

“I don’t think you are exactly in a position to make that that request.” I lean against the counter across the room from him.

“No, I’m not.” he half smirked, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Look, I’m not saying that this can’t still all explode in our faces. But I miss my best friend and that has always been the best part of us. It will never be the same as it was before, it can’t be. However, if you are willing to work with me, I am willing to see if we there is any salvageable. If nothing else, we both need therapy very badly. We can’t just shrug this off. The second that it goes back to where we were, I’m gone.”

“Okay. I’ll do it.” He sniffs hard, and his breath is broken up, tucking his arms against himself. Usually its in authority, this time hes just trying to hug himself. I gesture him to come over and I hug him. He wraps his arms around then envelopes me. Leaning his head on mine, he whispers “I’ll do whatever you want, my darlin.”

I told my mom that I would be going home, she sighed at me. “Do you think this is the best idea?”

“I don’t know, Mama. I think I just want some closure. I told him if he so much as sneezes out of line that I’m gone. Forever. There will be no more chances.”

“Well, baby, I trust you. You are always welcome back here if you need to get away.”

While I’m packing my stuff into the shopping bags I had, I hear a sudden crack and Sy groans then swears. “yeah, I deserved that too.”

“What the fuck did you just do, Theodore?” I yell coming out. Ted was still holding my husband’s hand, and Sy was holding his face. “Did you… just headbutt him?”

“Yes, I did. My sister my might be willing to move past your mistakes, but I’m not. However, I’ve always been the petty one in the family. Hurt her again, they will have to dig your nuts out of your chest cavity, do we understand each other?”

“Yep, perfectly.” Sy grimaced. There were very few men that he would not retaliate against. Teddy, at 6’5, and years of horse wrangling, was one of them. Sy was build like a brick shit house, but so was my big brother. I thought we were old enough to not resort to violence, I have been wrong before.

My probably, potentially, soon to be ex-husband put mine and Stella’s things in the back bench of his truck. I held her in the crook of my arm as I climbed up in the cab. He gently shut the door for me, I noticed his shiner was going to be pretty gnarly in the morning.

He climbed into the other side as I set little Stella down on the floor. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it was a cheap shot, I’ll be fine. At this point, I don’t want to rock the boat with your brother and Ma. She tore me a new asshole before I got outside today.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t changed your mind, say to hell with me and that I’m not worth the hassle.”

“Josephine, I might not have made the appropriate effort to show you how much you mean to me, but you are worth it.” The Syverson shaped hole in my heart roared. Why couldn’t he have been this way all along?

We talked about the girl at the movies, and how she was one of his new officers. She might have come on to him, but he never engaged with her outside of work related things. He told her several times that he wasn’t interested but she was persistent. I halfway apologized for trying to decapitate him with a tequila bottle. He acknowledged that this was a long time coming. This was the most we had talked about anything deep for months. I don’t know if it was too little and too late though.

The rest of the drive home we made a plan of action. He would move into the office and would stay in there until I invited him back into my bed. We would start couple’s therapy as soon as we could. He would also start seeing a therapist individually. Before we got into town I also told him my final request for our reconciliation. I wanted to see other people. I had been with him since I was nineteen, I have never faltered in my devotion to him. I wanted to see if he was really the one for me.

When I got home, I poured out the rest of my alcohol, save for a bottle of champagne I was saving for our anniversary. He took Stella outside to go potty and came back singing her name “Stella bella, who is a good girl? Your Mama picks good puppies, yes she does. Good girl, Stella bella.”

Stella came prancing back to me with her tail wagging happily. He walked up behind me, and grazes the backs of my arms gently with his knuckles, leaning down to kiss my neck. “Not yet, Sy. I don’t want us to complicate things more than they already are.”

“Josie, what do you mean?”

“I don’t want to have sex with you until we start therapy.”

“So you want us to stop having sex, sleep in separate rooms and at some point you want to start seeing other men.” He starts nodding. He lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes. “Okay, it that’s what you want to do. I was thinking about getting my stuff out of the bedroom so I can try to get some sleep. I love you, Pussycat. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, James went to bed. He was snoring on the couch in the office by the time I went to go lay down.

****

It took us three weeks to get into see a couples therapist. It felt a little validating about my decision that we shouldn’t sleep together until we have really decided to try or not. She had me stay behind and talk with her for another half an hour the first time we met. She asked me why I wanted to save my marriage with Sy if he’s hurt me for years.

“I don’t rightly know,” I told her. “Maybe its because when we are good we are so damn good. Before we were married, I was warned, I knew that things happened overseas and I shouldn’t take it personally, he’s just a man and not a saint. I never have had a doubt in my mind about if he’s been faithful when he’s been here until recently when a woman he knows started acting weird around me. The love we had was so passionate, like sometimes he thought that if he couldn’t put his hands on me I would disappear. I don’t think I will ever find someone who can love me like that again.”

The therapist suggested that he starts getting treated for PTSD and anger management while we all were working together. I would also have my own separate sessions to work on my own issues. It took a few months but I started seeing small differences in how he was handling things at work that pissed him off. He was able to defuse himself more easily. He became more open with his feelings. I think it helped that we both stopped drinking. We could be a little volatile when we had a pitcher (or three) of margaritas.

There were days with our sessions where we leave emotionally exhausted and not speak to each other the rest of the day, some of them ended in peals of laughter, others where I would cry for most of it. We discussed the infidelity at great lengths. I don’t want to rehash the details but it was definitely one of the bad days. But it seems that the root cause was him using the only the other women for comfort after fairly traumatic events. It’s why it only happened on deployments. He needed to feel something other than pain.

The lack sexual intimacy between the two of us made James start to get creative to initiate closeness between the two of us. He started helping me make dinner on the weekends, or he would bring me my coffee in the morning the way I like it. Mama and Teddy started coming over occasionally for suppers. It was nice to have the house filled with laughter. We started talking again like when we first started dating. He would take the time to go with me grocery shopping.

He started asking me out on dates again. Myself, him and Stella would drive out to the country, with a picnic basket that he would even prepare himself and we would go star gazing like we used to. I loved seeing the effort, but that hole still ached in my chest the whole time. The pieces should have all fit together, but here I was still not sure I could commit to him for the rest of my life.

On one of these dates, he asked me what I thought about him retiring. He had been in for almost nineteen years at this point and had far exceeded is expectations for being in the Army as an officer.

“I kind of just want to sell off all our extra shit and buy a really nice Air-stream. We can pull it with my truck. Just travel up and down the continent, I know you always have wanted to see the Northern Lights, we can just go anywhere. Me, you and Stella would visit where ever we could find a parking spot.”

“That sounds nice, Sy.” It came out a little half hearted.

“You don’t sound convinced, sweetheart.” He said, started sounding concerned.

“Hun, I don’t want to have a fight right now, so please just let me get this off my chest.” I sigh. And then I told him about the pain in my chest that I’ve had since my night in jail. That sometimes, like tonight, it was only a dull ache. That other times the edges are still so sharp that it feels like the pain was going to swallow me whole. He sits up, jaw dropped.

“Why haven’t you told me this before? I… Jo… son of a bitch.” He groans. He lays back down, the same defeated tone came back that I hadn’t heard since Mama’s house. “I’m trying my best, Josephine, but I feel like I have one hand tied behind my back… you will never love me again, will you? I can grovel, and beg. I don’t know what else I need to do. I know what I want to do, but it will just hurt you more.”

“What do you want to do, Sy?”

“I want to kiss every part of your skin, remind your body that I worship it. I want to pin you to the wall of our hallway and make love to you. I want to go to sleep with my nose buried in in your hair, and wake up sliding inside of you. I have since you came home. Hell, I always want to do that with you. But that can’t be the only thing that keeps us together.” He looked over at Stella sprawl out.

“I didn’t say this to hurt you, hun. I just wanted to be honest with you.”

“I know, I… just don’t want to cause you more misery. I really thought we were, you know, heading back in the right direction.”

“We have been, and honestly, I think if we threw in the towel now, it would cause more harm than good.” I say as the tears well up in my eyes. For the first time since I was taken away, I straddle his hips. He sits up and I place my hands on either side of his face, then lean in to kiss him. He kisses me back with the same hunger. I missed him. The ache dulled a little until he pulled away.

“Let’s get going, Jo, I want you so fucking bad. I want to take you here and now, I want to make you scream my name and damn anyone who catches us. We need to stop this, the agreement was that we wouldn’t. Fuck I’ve missed how you taste.” He said before stealing one more kiss.

*****

The next week was awkward to say the least, the therapist was pleased about the kissing and that I opened up. She said that it was possible that the pain would go away, but that he and I needed to remember that it was like I was grieving. In the mean time, we should continue to take it slowly because we both needed to be sure. The following few days he was distant, and the ache returned in full force.

With his PTSD treatments, he was having less nightmares. It was the best thing I could ask for. There were still times where he would yell in his sleep but they had become farther and farther apart. It was a night after he had his individual treatment, he had come home talking about how he felt the night of my breakdown. He came home and told me a little bit, how he had never seen me so angry before, thrashing about like a caged animal. He hated himself for pushing me there. That night, in the darkness of the small hours, I woke up from being dead asleep hearing him say my name in a panic. He then repeated sounding more and more scared. “Josie, oh my god, Josie, no. I’m sorry Jo, I didn’t mean to. JoJo!”

I rushed into the office, he was jerking violently in his sleep about on the couch. I turned on the light near his head. When these dreams happen, his eyes were usually opened, it creeps my out every time. I start to gently wake him up, saying his name and touching him as gently as possible. It took a few moments but he came back to me.

“Jo, Jesus fuck, you’re alright?”

“Of course I am, sweetheart, what happened? I’m right here, I’m okay, you are okay, everything is okay.”

“I dreamed we were back in the kitchen, you were under me. Screaming and whipping about. I had to restrain you more then I accidentally broke your neck and you died in my arms. It felt real, baby, I was holding your body and then the sheriff came and that’s when you woke me up. Oh my god. I fucking can’t. I can’t anymore. I need you, Josie. If something happens to you, oh fuck.” I have never seen James sob like this. He pawed at me until I was wrapped in his arms. I slipped my arms around his neck and held his head to mine. His sobs were hard. We sat there until he let it all out.

“Come on, big man, let’s get you into bed. Come with me. I’ll stay with you all night.” He nodded at me and followed me to the bed we used to share. I wrapped him up in our fluffy blankets. He snuggled into me and was asleep in moments. I stayed there in his arms until he woke up. The Syverson shaped hole hurt less that night.

When he woke up he started crying again. He held me and started kissing my face. “Thank god. I thought you coming to me last night was another dream.”

“No baby, I’m here.” He sniffed hard and squeezed me closer to him. We went back to sleep for a few more hours and when we got up for the day he moved his things back into our bedroom. We might not have started other marital acts but we both started sleeping better having the other person in bed. It had been almost six months we started trying to reconcile.

*****

It had been an interesting couple of months while we started the transition for him to retire. Soon it was only a matter of days. The dates had continued, the kissing had continued, but something was keeping me back from being able to say that the next step was what I wanted. Therapy continued, and we would be seeing her for the next few months. Before I left my private session she asked me if I had given myself a deadline. She was concerned that I might keep dragging it out and that would just make both of us miserable. I told her I had an idea and that I planned on pulling the trigger soon.

Sy’s superiors were setting up a retirement ceremony for him, followed by a dinner with the upper chain of command. He wasn’t looking forward to it, Sy just wanted to be out and done. He came home one day while I was watching a show based on a book series I had read when we first were married. The redheaded Scot swore fealty to his wife, offering to pierce his own heart with a dagger if he should ever rebel against her again.

“What’s this you’re watching?” He asked.

“Outlander, it just picked back up again from a season break. It’s pretty damn close to the book.”

“So is this what the ladies like these days, men in kilts offering to off themselves if they fuck up?”

“Women have liked men in kilts since I can remember. Why do you think we go to the Renn Faire every year.” I wink at him. “But yeah, I’m sure that does it for some people.”

“Well shit, Pussycat, it’s the only thing I haven’t done.” Sy walked out of the room and came back with his favorite hunting knife. It had been his dad’s once upon a time. The handle was made out of buck horn. In his warn and dusty uniform, he knelt in front of me on the living room floor. His beautiful blue eyes looking into mine, “Well, this isn’t iron, and it definitely isn’t holy. However, I will swear on it either way. Josephine, you are the only woman I have ever loved, you are my best friend, and I adore you. I will never do anything to make you doubt that love or loyalty again. If I ever do anything that makes you feel like you are less than the beautiful, smart, incredible, sexy creature that you are, you can sink this right in my heart. I will even hold it there for you so all you have to do is press it right in.” He finishes with a tongue click as an exclamation.

“James, you didn’t need to do this. You know I am weird about grand gestures.”

“No, I think I do. I said my vows to you on our wedding rings and I wasn’t able to keep it. But, I will never break this one. If I can earn your love back, I will never do anything to make you regret giving me this chance to be your man.” He still held the knife against his chest with one hand, and placed my hand over his with the other. “So what do you think, baby girl? We still have a long way to go, but I can’t think of anyone else I would rather struggle with.”

“I think you just put yourself in a position that I could just end you now if I wanted to.” I say with my usual sass.

“Yes, you could. I don’t think you will though.” He said smiling, his voice was husky and deep as usual. I love that easy smile of his.

“Is it wrong that I want to get on your lap and make out with you while I hold this against you.” His eyebrow raised. “Maybe more than just make out with you.”

“Oh, don’t you tease me now, sweet thing. I don’t want to start anything you won’t finish.”

“Who said I won’t finish it, Colonel Syverson?” His eyes grew as big as dinner plates.

“Wait, do you mean it?” He choked.

“Yeah, I do mean it.” I laughed. Before I could get up, he had hiked the skirt of the dress I was wearing up to my hips, pulling me to the edge of the sofa, revealing that I had skipped a certain garment that day. “I had an idea for after supper, but if you want we can do this now…. Oh fuck I’ve missed this.”

Before I can even finish my sentence, he was going to town with his tongue on his favorite part of my body. He remembered everything that made me squeal in delight. From the lack of sex on both of our ends, he was able to get me off easily. My body was desperate for his touch. He stopped once my body was trembling, kissing one of my thighs from my apex to my knee. He suddenly grunted and bit down on a tender part. He started panting and kissed the spot he bit.

“I’m sorry, sugar, I didn’t want to only last for two or three thrusts. Fuck, I have missed this pretty pussy. You taste so good.” He had a handful of his own cum and looked around for a tissue. Without a word, I grabbed his hand and licked it clean, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. He moaned out and then stood up. He took his shirt off, and lifted me up off the couch. I knew this hurt his back and knees but I wasn’t about to chastise him for wanting to be romantic. He carried me like we were on our honeymoon back to the bedroom. He lay me down as gently as possible then finished stripping himself. I took my dress off leaving myself exposed to him in a way that I haven’t in almost a year. Sy joined me on the bed, open and vulnerable to me. I loved those thick thighs and torso of his, he always eclipsed me.

“Hello ladies, nice to finally see you again.” He purred as he licked and sucked on my nipples. He leaned to one side and massaged my breasts with one of his hands. “Glad to see you that you missed me too.”

Before long, I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh. He spread my legs and rubbed himself against my opening. He leaned down and kissed my neck before sliding himself inside of me. I moan his name as he gently started making love to me. Bearing his weight on his elbows, he kissed and nipped at my neck.

Breathlessly, he told me how much he missed my body, how much he loved me, how lucky he was to have me. As his tempo increased, he started to whisper in me ear.

“Josephine, tell me what you are.” I looked at him confused. “You are my wife, I want you to tell me that you are my wife.”

“I’m your wife, James.” I tell him as lovingly as possible.

“Louder, baby.”

“I’m your wife.” I said loud and clearly. The Syverson shaped hole in my chest is gone, finally. Replaced with the warmth of knowing we were going to be able to survive this.

“Even louder, Jo.” I yell it out and he thrusts harder and deeper. “Keep going, beautiful, I want the whole neighborhood to know.”

I screamed it as he started pounding me harder, building his orgasm. As my own starts its crescendo, I screamed his name and arched my back as he pulls my hips down on himself and spilled into me. He lay down beside me, twitching and jerking a little. He kisses all the parts of my skin that is available to his reach.

“I think we should order a pizza for dinner tonight,” He says after a few minutes of catching his breath. “So we can stay in bed and make love again.”

“Or, and hear me out. I put my dress back on, you get dressed and we go out for sushi with your cum dripping down my thighs. What do you think about that?”

“Shit, I missed you being a damn freak like that. Do I we get to have more fun tonight if I say yes?” He chuckles, then kisses my hand, “I still want you to ride me with my knife pointed at me some time tonight.”

“Aren’t you scared I’m going to cut off a nipple or something.”

“You, with a knife? To be honest, cutting off my nipple is the least of my concerns. How do I know if this just isn’t a whole plan to lure me into complacency with sex and sushi, then you just murder me in my sleep.” He rolled onto his back and whined for a second, but got up. He put on a pair of khaki shorts and a black Metallica t-shirt as I got into my dress again.

“God damn woman, you are so fucking sexy.” He tells me as he opens the door on my side of the truck and leans down to kiss me again. As I climb up he give my butt a little tap just like he used to and closes the door for me. The ache I’ve been feeling these long months has subsided. Sitting across the cab from me, holding my hand, he asks if we want to go look at travel trailers this weekend. For the first time in a while, I feel like everything is going to be alright.

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfic #my apologies to henry cavill #captain syverson

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deltas-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

Courtship (4): The Gargoyle Graveyard

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Author note: Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I apologize for having a very inconsistent writing schedule. I'm going to make it my goal to update on a bi weekly basis instead of leaving you all in silent limbo. Also a reminder I suck at figuring out which warnings to put so if there's something that needs to be forewarned that I failed to disclose please lmk!

Warnings: Mentions of heavy bodily injuries | childhood trauma/neglect | discussions/mentions of discrimination | mentions of virginity/sexual history

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AO3 version

Clay. Stone. Porcelain. Plaster. Metal. There are even gargoyles carved entirely of wood! Some statues are stand-alone works of art while others are part of a clear collection or series of similar inspiration. They even come in all sorts of shapes and sizes; as small as an apple or a towering height to rival Malleus himself. No matter what, each grotesque has been crafted with the utmost consideration, by well seasoned and knowing hands. Even the ones that have clear defects and cannot serve their intended purpose are free of overabundant ivy, weeds, or dust. There’s a clear degree of love and care the family who makes these statues has for their craft that makes him feel less alone in his interest in an uncherished form of art.

“It should be around here somewhere,” you muse aloud. Ever since he expressed interest in seeing more sculptures made with non-traditional materials, you’ve been keeping your eye out for a particular one that would fulfill his yearning. You eventually find it and eagerly point to it. “There it is!”

Malleus watches as you approach a massive-sized statue covered with a thick and half-wet tarp. He helps you remove the cover, revealing a winged and slightly humanoid canine. There are many more grotesques with a similar design, but what makes this one stand out the most is the material it’s made out of.

“Amazing!” Malleus awes. “I’ve never seen a grotesque of this size made entirely of glass! They’ve even managed to maintain their attention to detail despite such an abnormal material choice.”

“You can even see the inner channel where the water would flow in and redirect out of its mouth,” you notice.

“They even went out of their way to make it functional despite it being unfit for actual installation?” Malleus inquires with disbelief. “Such a shame.”

“If you’re looking to buy anything here, I’m afraid it's a lost cause. One of the first warnings the grandfather gave me is that none of these are for sale.”

“What was his second warning?”

“If we damage anything, even as small as a scratch, he’ll kill us.”

“How charming,” he chuckles. “I cannot blame him. These statues must take weeks to complete. Time is a human’s greatest enemy.”

“For some, sure. But when I went to visit the family and talked to the old man, he was lunging around all this heavy equipment like he was still in his prime,” you recall. “He lives for his craft. If there’s anything humans are at risk of their entire lives, it’s a lack of motivation and reason to live.”

“I suppose that’s true, but the lifespan of humans and the inevitable effects of aging is difficult to live with, especially once it begins to hinder one’s ability to do what one could previously do without issue. ”

“You’re not wrong,” you acknowledge. “But I think I’d rather live a short life with fulfillment than a dull, long-as-shit life.”

To show that he’s entirely on your side, Gunter lets out a guttural bark while his tail rapidly wags and thumps the damp ground, coating the ends of his bushy tail in specs of dirt and dirtied, remnant snow of the north that has managed to stay frozen on the isles warmer south end.

“You’re only agreeing with them because you’ve been promised food,” Malleus chastises. “Don’t think I didn’t pick up on your grumbling stomach.”

“And don't think I didn't pick up on your stomach rumbling either your highness," you quip back at him. "The family has a small cottage nearby we can use. We'll settle down for a bit and eat before sightseeing some more."

Before you turn and walk in the direction towards the aforementioned lodgings, you reach your hand out for Malleus to take and he latches onto you with restrained enthusiasm. He's taller than you, but he takes care not to take his normal strides as to not leave you struggling to keep up with him. Gunter doesn't know the way, so he trots beside you every step of the way up until the destination is in plain view. The cottage is small but well-attended. There’s a rustic flair to its construction that makes it feel familiar and safe despite never stepping foot in it before.

"Those gargoyles were something, huh?" you remark to him while you tap and shake off the gunk wedged into the soles of your heavy boots against the frame of the door.

"Indeed," he nods, taking your cloak off for you and hanging it on the wooden rack nearby. "I don't think I've ever seen that many gargoyles in one day. Just when my eyes land upon an intriguing one, there's several more that catch my attention."

The way he gets all wide-eyed is outright adorable. It makes you grin just as enthusiastically too. "I bet your club is going to have a field day once you tell them about this!"

His child-like smile turns into one of disappointment. "I'm certain they would, if I wasn't the sole member that is."

Your hands halt from pulling out and setting down all the premade food out of your pack. "Seriously? You're the only one?"

When he nods his head, you feel a twinge of hurt in your heart. Poor guy. You can only imagine how disappointing it must be to go through all those lengths to start a club (you would know since you're technically a staff member of the school and have been given a rundown on some of the school's functions and regulations) only for no one to show interest. Of course, you completely understand that gargoyles aren't exactly all the rage within the minds of teenage boys. Still! He goes through so much effort to build relationships with his peers but they always cower away, either due to his status or even because of the way he looks. You won’t deny that he does come off as rather intimidating at first glance, but he's a sweet guy once you give him the chance to speak.

But to expect teenagers going through social pressures and demanding academics to be as understanding and willing to understand someone like Malleus is an impossible demand. Given that everyone in the school can be a bunch of self-centered and easily agitated bunch of pricks, it's understandable that most of the student body isn't keen on trying to take into consideration the proper etiquette one needs to consider in the presence of a young and noble fae. Deuce has met and talked briefly with Malleus on one occasion, but even he visibly shakes whenever his name is mentioned, even in casual passing.

Wait until they found out who you've gone and gotten buddy-buddy with behind their back. They probably think they're slick or that their intentions are well swept under the rug, but it's clear they feel some semblance of responsibility for your well-being, as both a magicless individual as well as a close, albeit older, friend. You dread the day people begin to make the connections between Malleus and you, but you still can’t help but wonder what their reactions might be. You also dread the high probability those two idiots are going to find out and embarrass the living hell out of you, which you know you do not have the patience or tolerance for.

Gunter jumps up and sits himself down in one of the wooden dining chairs, pushing the small ceramic plate towards you with his nose, as if telling you "Alright, I’ve done what I said I'd do, now feed me what I'm owed." You tell him that you'll give him what he's well earned after you get a small fire started in the brick fireplace. Just because it's warmer near the southern half of the island and not as heavily blanketed with snow, doesn't mean the cold has completely vanished, Winter is still winter after all.

"Where did these scars come from?"

Malleus' unexpected question and closeness nearly make you drop the iron rod you've been using to stoke the growing fire. You've since taken off your boots and rolled up the bottoms of your pants just above your knee as the room starts to warm up enough for a thin layer of perspiration to accumulate and roll down your skin. The scars he's referring to are the ones on your right leg, both side by side at an awkward angle and discolored. You have a lot more scars than these, some much more gruesome in appearance than these two. Malleus has never asked about your scars, but sometimes you catch him looking in the general area of some that peak through your clothes. He likely keeps quiet about their existence out of courtesy.

Yet out of all the markings on your body, why did these two stand out enough that he'd finally ask about them?

"It's a long story," you say in an effort to stall the topic. "Sit. I'll feed you two once the fire is stable."

He doesn’t push you for an answer, instead simply doing as you say and lets you poke at the burning logs until they're properly aflame on their own. You made mostly some of your morning favorites; Creamy and thick potato stew with diced carrots and peas and some eggs, ham, and crispy hash browns sandwich between homemade halved croissants. You teased him about having picky taste buds earlier, but Malleus is content to eat anything you serve him so long as it is not comparable to the likes of Lilia's atrocious cooking.

(Seriously, how does a man as old as Lilia not know the basic fundamentals of cooking? And why does everything he makes end up burnt and tasting like something rotten? You will never understand.)

"Don't eat too quickly," you warn Gunter as you pour a bit of light-colored soup onto his designated plate. Your words are ignored, as the equally marred wolf sloppily slurps and munches on the few bits of potatoes and vegetables you generously scraped out of the thermos. His food is gone as quickly as it’s put in front of him and he looks at you expecting more.

"No. The rest is mine," you scold. "And don't beg Malleus for some either! I know you do it behind my back, you little shit!"

He turns to look at Malleus with an accusatory glare, thinking that he ratted him out to you. Malleus’s response towards the silent imputation is to turn and look out the window as if something caught his interest all of a sudden, cup raised to his lips as he politely sips away at his meal without an air of calmness. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the amusement that overtakes your senses.

"Malleus, stop that!"

"Stop what?" he innocently asks.

"Stop making me want to laugh!"

He sets his cup down onto its matching serving dish. "It's not my fault you have an easily satiable sense of humor."

"Wow!" you say incredulously and put your arms up in offense. "And here I was thinking we were friends!"

His distant demeanor breaks and you both devolve into a fit of laughter together. Gunter unfortunately takes advantage of your joint distraction and slips away with a warm sandwich between his jaw, your sandwich in particular.

"That damn wolf!" you curse. "I knew I should have trusted my gut and pack extras.”

Malleus pities your distress before moving over to sit closer. "Worry not. I'll split mine in half with you,” he reassures.

"No, it's fine," you immediately dismiss his offer. "Have it for yourself."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," he firmly states. “Don’t be stubborn. It’s far too early for that.”

"I thought you liked it when I was stubborn?” you pout.

He shakes his head with a smile. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t”

"At least someone likes my attitude,” you say after chewing and swallowing a mouthful of soup. “Sebek certainly doesn’t."

"The boy is stubborn as well. When two equally stubborn individuals cross paths, you will witness nothing but discord between the two."

"Add the fact I'm human into the mix, and we'll be exchanging fists instead of words sooner or later," you scoff. "I get that some faes don't like humans, but what's his deal with acting like he’s got a vendetta against me?"

"Sebek doesn't hate humans for the reasons you might think," Malleus admits. "It’s more like he finds them difficult to think that highly of. Did you know that he is half-human?"

You nearly choke on your own breath over the sudden revelation. "Really?"

"Indeed," Malleus finds amusement at your disbelief. "Have you ever wondered why his ears aren't pointed like Silver, but his eyes are like mine and Lilia’s?"

"Damn,” you scratch the back of your head with embarrassment. “Now I feel stupid.”

"You aren't. Given the way he speaks, not many would assume he had human blood in his veins. His mother was highly regarded within her social circle, but her marriage to a human man tarnished her reputation a great deal. She's happy and does not seem to care what others think of her these days. However, when Sebek set out to be a knight, his mother's marriage and his lineage were often brought up as a way to scrutinize his character and capabilities rather than any of his actual shortcomings as an individual."

"Poor kid," you sigh. "Lilia told me those sorts of things still happen in The Valley, but it sounds so outlandish that I couldn’t take it that seriously."

"Many faes hold old traditions above all else, to a degree that the purity of one's blood stands above all other merits." His eyebrows pressed together in annoyance. "Even my grandmother thinks it's archaic, but as the reigning queen she has to embody a persona of neutrality between the social divide."

"It sounds like you have your work cut out for you in the future," you say, almost apologetically. "What do you plan to do about it once you're the king?"

There's a brief flash of surprise over your question, but Malleus easily answers it as usual. "I think my first course of action as king would be to properly knight Sebek and Silver."

"Bet my rifle that Sebek is going to cry the entire ceremony!" you remark with certainty. "That's all he ever goes on about, being a knight and all."

"He's devoted countless hours and efforts since he was a child. If there's anyone who deserves to join the knighthood, it's him."

"Definitely," you nod to further cement your agreement with him. "He could stand to lower his voice a bit. He'll give you tinnitus before long.”

"At least we won't have to worry about losing him in a crowd," Malleus jests.

"That's to say we'll lose sight of him to begin with," you remark. "He'll gladly lose me in a crowd. You? You'd be lucky to get out of arm's length."

"You underestimate me, dearest," Malleus smirks. "Ever since I've met you, I've perfected the art of avoiding Sebek's insistent searches."

"Have you now?" you razz back. "Don't let him catch onto the fact. He'll have my head."

He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Each second his skin touches yours makes you tingle. Time slows down ever so briefly if only to savor the small instance of physical connection for as long as possible. "What of your aunts?" he inquires. "Are they as overprotective of you as Sebek is of myself?"

"They’re a trio of mama bears," you proudly admit. "I'm old enough to drink and well equipped to fend for myself, but in their minds, I'll always be the little tyke that couldn't even eat their meals without looking at them for approval. Especially my aunt Gia."

You have three aunts. There's your aunt Marisol, the mother of most of your cousins and the main caretaker of the household. Your second aunt Lucia was well into her studies at university when you came to live with them, but her stress and long hours of mulling over her course materials paid off in the long run. Your gardening skills wouldn't be what they are now without her expertise in agricultural botany.

Then there's your aunt Gia. Oldest of the three. An absolute tank of a woman. No spouse. No kids of her own. She lived off the land like an absolute titan. The woman raised you as if she was the one that carried you for nine months and not your actual birth mother.

How would you describe your parents? If your parents were told to list out their priorities in life, their careers would be at the top of the list and you would be put at the very bottom. Why they carried you to term is beyond your understanding. You later learned that Gia had even offered to take you under her care well before your birth, knowing that your parents might not be well-suited to take care of you in the way she thinks would be beneficial for you. It was a convenient offer that would have saved everyone the trouble years down the line when you had your accident. They worked in a cutthroat industry and were constantly moving up the executive echelons. They had no time for you, yet their pride as a pair of young, successful business magnates made them incapable of seeing past the reality of the situation. That left you mostly in the care of last-minute caretakers and your aunts, but only if they had time from their own busy and preoccupied lives to come out into the city and visit.

You were eight years old when things started to get better, but it was upstarted in the worst possible way. Your parents had to go away for the upcoming weekend for work and left you in the care of a babysitter as per the norm. The babysitter never showed up however and your parents apparently couldn’t be bothered to check up on you even once the entire trip. Their silence wasn’t surprising. You just went on about your business for the next three days on your own like nothing was wrong. Your aunt Gia had even called at one point to check up on you, but you didn’t bother to tell her that your parents had left you to fend for yourself. She would have exploded if you did, but not as much as she did when you woke up in the hospital after falling down the stairs and lying helplessly on the ground for several hours with a dislocated shoulder and a compound-fractured leg. You were lulling in and out of consciousness due to all the medication pumped into you, but what little you do remember seeing and hearing when you regained consciousness will forever stick with you for the rest of your life.

If people think your level of swearing is bad, they should have heard your aunt that day. She swore so viciously that it could set an innocent bystander's eardrums on fire. What will forever stand out the most to you was the fact that your parents didn’t even look the least bit apologetic or regretful. They didn’t even approach you once your aunt was done giving them a piece of her mind to check up on you. They simply talked with the awaiting social worker and doctors and then left. It was for the better, but the small part of you that continued to hold onto the desperate belief that your parents would come around one day sent you into a thrashing frenzy and you had to be sedated before you could hurt yourself anymore.

The next year was spent recovering from your injuries, meeting regularly with your caseworker, and going through therapists like a pack of cigarettes. By the time you were back on your feet and the legal proceedings of your custody case were concluded, all you wanted was to move on with it all. Nearly a decade of neglect left you this unattentive, uncertain husk of a person who couldn’t take a single step forward without looking for some sort of guidance or assurance. Your family was exhausted by the entire ordeal and over speaking with third parties. Your aunts took it upon themselves to help you regain your sense of self in the comfort of your new home, no matter how difficult or demanding it was going to be.

“It took some time, but eventually it clicked in my mind that I was in a better place and I started to get better. As for my parents, I have no clue what they’re up to these days.” You lean back into your chair and let out a shaking yawn. “I like to think they’re getting on well like I am.”

“I don’t understand.” Malleus looks at you with unbelievable confusion. “Your parents treated you poorly, yet you don’t sound the least bit resentful. Why is that?”

You shrug your shoulders. “What’s the point? I'm in a better place now, so I've let bygones be bygones. 'Doesn't mean I don't harbor any anger against them anymore. I do, but getting upset won't change what's happened to me."

Gunter, having sensed your discomfort over the matter, trots over and rests his head on your lap. You gratefully rub the top of his head, carding your hands through his thick, coarse hair. "I'm just glad they let me go without a fuss. Family court was hell for my family.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Expensive too.”

Crackling wood fills the momentary silence that befalls the small cottage. What you've recollected to Malleus is a lot to take in, and if you're being quite honest you'd prefer if he just dropped the subject and talked about literally anything else right now. You hope he doesn't say he's sorry or any other type of apologetic comment. That's all you were ever told that entire year it all happened, during court proceedings, your rehabilitation, by both strangers and distant family members alike.

"I'm so sorry. What happened to you was unfortunate. You didn't deserve it."

No shit you didn't deserve any of that. You were a kid. You don’t need one pity party after another to realize that what took place then had fucked you forever. But as you said earlier, you're in a better place now, with a loving and supportive family that's moved on alongside you. A family you need to get back to as soon as possible.

"I love you."

Well, if he was hoping to take your mind off the past. that certainly did it. How can it not? It came out of nowhere and as good as you are at holding your composure when need be, you're sure you look no less like a gaping fish when warm and plush softness presses right against the corner of your lips. A kiss. His kiss.

"What's wrong?" Your voice sounds shaky. You’re nervous.

"Nothing," he smiles reassuringly. "I simply said what I felt needed to be said."

"Fair enough" you concede easily. He was going to say it sooner or later. He already has actually, now that you think about it. Yet here you are trying to process his words like it’s rocket science.

"Am I going about this too fast perhaps?" he genuinely asks. His hands that have been busy massaging your calves that have settled across his lap somewhere during your long retelling gradually slow down, but his hands never go completely still. "This is my first time experiencing something like this."

"What?" You sit up a bit straighter. "A relationship?"

"Yes."

Your head tilts to the side. "Really?"

He nods hesitantly "Yes?"

For a moment, you go completely quiet. "I don't believe you,” you doubtfully say, head shaking to further showcase your refusal to believe him.

He must not have liked your remark, frowning with clear offense in his eyes. When he dislikes something, the vertical slits in his eyes contract into a thin line. "I cannot lie, yet you still doubt me?"

"I know you can't lie, but I find it hard to believe you haven't been with anyone else before," you explain. Before you can consider the appropriateness that was your newfound curiosity about Malleus's apparently non-existent love life, you blurt out, "Are you still a virgin?"

You slap your hand over your mouth the moment those words come out of it. He's equally caught off guard and nearly drops his warm cup of coffee. Even Gunter is surprised by your question, olive-colored eyes looking at you as if you've lost your mind. It's an invasive question, inappropriate even. You and Malleus have been dating for a little over two days. A question like that is way too early to bring up just yet.

"You don't have to answer that," you tell him behind your palm. "I shouldn't have even asked it. Forget I ever brought it up-”

"I'm not," he interrupts you, leaving you even more shocked than you already are. You’re practically gaping like a fish by now. "I'm not a virgin,” he further insinuates.

A deafening silence, but it’s eventually broken by yourself. “I still don’t believe you.”

Malleus gets further annoyed at your refusal to accept his truth. "I'm not lying!" he insists.

"Bullshit!"

"Do you want me to recount my history to you?" he asks, exasperated as you are at the shift the conversation is taking. "Will that satisfy your doubts?"

"You know what? It will!" you loudly declare. "Who'd you sleep with?"

"He was a young page at the time,” he reminisced. “It happened before I was a century old.”

Your eyebrows raise with intrigue. "Was he cute?"

"Yes," he hushedly agrees. The disconcerting admittance paints his face a pinkish-red glow. "But that's not why I bedded him."

"But surely his looks are what made you interested in the first place?” you make blatant regard of the fact.

“You’re not wrong,” he acknowledges, expertly avoiding agreeing with you outright. “But his looks aren't the sole reason I was drawn to him. He was bright-eyed and ambitious, to the point you’d think him insane given his position in the court. It was also the first time I ever truly met with a group of humans, and my young mind was eager to get a more accurate perspective of humans that wasn’t through the lens of my tutors.”

“An ‘accurate perspective’?” You make playful air quotes, eyebrows wiggling because you know the fact that he knows what you’re implying. The playful comment is met with a sharp pinch on your leg that makes you jump and shriek out in pain. Did he have to dig his nails into you? Apparently so, and now you have small crescent indents on your skin. “I bet Lilia had a good laugh when he found out.”

“He doesn’t know, actually,” he admits to you with what is obviously a proud smile.

“Now I know you’re lying to me,” you scoff. “Nothing escapes the old man’s radar.”

His hands begin to rub out the marks he’s left on you as a form of apology. “Lilia is sharp, but he had lost most of his vigor by the time I was born.”

You go wide-eyed again. “You mean his hearing and eyesight was better than it is now?”

He nods affirmatively. “From what I’ve been told, terrifyingly so.”

Lilia is already frightening as is. His short stature and boyish looks make him perfectly unassuming to those who don’t know any better. You once watched him beat up a couple of bulky, twice-his-height students from Savanaclaw without breaking a sweat, yet moments before he was jokingly scolding himself for dozing off so easily. You never once thought he was ever out of his elements. A cold chill runs down your spine thinking how much more perceptive the older fae may have been back during his prime years.

“Wonder what Lilia’s gonna think,” you ponder out loud in a quick effort to banish out the skin-prickling mental imagery your mind was invoking. “About us, I mean.”

Malleus seems surprised that you would change the topic to that of all things, but his initial shock goes away as quickly as it came. “As you may have guessed, he’s an open-minded individual, but he’s also very realistic and unafraid to say what’s on his mind.”

“So what does that mean for you and me?” you question with a bit of hesitation.

“Well,” he trails off and ponders for a moment. “He’ll surely like the scandal our relationship would invoke. However, as my caretaker and mentor, he won’t hesitate to put an end to it if he feels it necessary.”

Had it been anyone else sitting beside you, you’d have found that comment way too extreme and outright ridiculous. However, you are not speaking to anyone ordinary. You are not sitting before someone normal. It doesn't matter how well you get along with him. It sure as hell doesn't matter how deeply in love you are with him, and him of you. The moment you have been deemed a shortcoming, the outings, the closeness, it all stops. All of it will come crashing down and both you and him will be left wondering what could have been done differently.

Malleus is truly your best friend, because already he can tell that your mind is beginning to spiral even when you go quiet. He calls for your attention by gripping his hand around your bare ankle and carefully tugging the end of your limb. “Don’t fret over it too much,” he soothes, yet also sounding like he’s scolding you for letting your mind wander off so negatively. “Lilia is an exceptional judge of character. From what I’ve gathered, you’ve well exceeded all his marks. He trusts you, and to gain such a thing from someone as old and wise as him is an extraordinary feat.”

You brew over the attempted compliment he tried to pay to you. Unfortunately, it doesn’t snub out all these festering thoughts in your head. It doesn’t even give you temporary relief. Perhaps it would have brought you a sense of peace a few months ago, but with everything that has happened thus far, you doubt even Malleus can alleviate the storm that rattles inside you, even if what he speaks is without a doubt nothing but the truth.

Surely he can see that you are still having some hangups. When you lift his hand and plant a chaste kiss on the back of his hand, you hope he can decipher the gesture as a pitiful request for his forgiveness for dampening the once energetic mood. He is not at fault for your loss and inability to think optimistically at the moment and you need to make sure he knows it.

Today is about him, not you. Even if it’s just for today, you’ll put on a pleasant facade and worry about the rest at a later date. It’s just you and him, and for now, that’s enough.

You do a mental countdown starting from three, before finally giving him a late response to the three words he uttered in confidence to you earlier. “I love you too, by the way.”

You love him. You love him. You love him. That’s all his mind can think of for the rest of the day. He replays your reciprocation over and over like it’s sacred and all-powerful.

He had planned to return to his dorm before the sun began to set, but he found the mere idea of detaching from you deeply unwanted and made the last-minute decision to spend the evening at the Ramshackle dorm. He already has a few articles of clothing and personal essentials set up in one of the many empty rooms, so neither Lilia nor you had any objections at his sudden request.

“Don’t worry!” You shout across the room so that Lilia can hear you over his phone. “I’ll make sure he gets to bed on time!”

“You have my gratitude!” Lilia’s muffled voice responds gratefully. “Don’t cause too much trouble now, you two.”

“No promises~” you sing in jest before Malleus hangs up. Once the call ends Johnny, Benji, Franky, and you turn their attention back to their ongoing game of poker. Malleus watches and occasionally laughs to himself over the friendly banter shared between the quartet. At the end of every round, the winner is assaulted with colorful profanities whilst they take their newly won gambling chips with ebullience. Yet with each new dealing of cards, the animosity goes away and they’re all back to being friendly. He finds your interactions with your incorporeal roommates more entertaining than the book he’s been reading to pass the time.

“Hey, fairy boy,” Franky informally calls out toward him. “Don’t be a stranger now. Play a few rounds with us.”

“I’m afraid I’m not well versed in card games,” he admits, yet he still finds himself setting his literature aside and moving over to join them.

“Don’t worry,” you give him a reassuring smile. “They’ll go easy on you.”

“For how long?” he knowingly asks.

You give him an impressed smirk at his quick uptake. “I give it three rounds before they start to pull back their sleeves.”

Malleus is well-adjusted to the need to quickly learn a new topic and the expectation for him to fully comprehend it in full. None of them are harsh on him for his minor mistakes like some of the tutors he’s had in the past. Answers that he believes may be obvious or not as complicated as he thinks they are being answered with enthusiastic patience. The smallest achievements he makes are met with a proud response. When he makes a surprise turnabout and wins his first game, he’s rewarded with an encouraging round of applause by everyone.

“Not bad,” Benji praises as he shuffles the deck of cards. “You’re a fast learner.”

“So I’ve been told,” he humbly replies. “Is this the part where you all stop going easy on me now?”

“Don’t provoke them,” you half-heartedly warn. “Otherwise we’ll be up all night duking it out otherwise.”

Franky sets his glass of iced liquor down on the edge of the table. “Don’t you little lovebirds worry. We won’t take up too much of your well-needed time together.”

Annoyed at the clear jab at his relationship with you, you throw one of your chips towards his head. It passes through his body and clatters on the floor behind him. Your fawn Blossom jumps down from their spot on the couch and goes to sniff it, thinking it to be food, but walks away with a disappointed strut when he realizes it isn’t anything edible.

“I didn’t tell them a damn thing,” you defensively clarify. “It was so obvious what was going on between us that they figured it all out before we made it official.”

He lets out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s...I can’t say I’m too pleased to hear about that.”

“We won’t say anything,” Franky reassures. “Just make sure to put a sock on the door whenever you guys want some alone time.”

“Franky!” you hiss at him. “What the hell?!”

“What?” he looks at you, unbothered by your clear embarrassment. “Do you honestly expect us to think you guys went out just to look at a bunch of statues?”

“Oh, I’m sure they were looking at something,” Johnny smirks. “It wasn’t made of stone though.”

“I hate you guys,” you growl out, arms crossing and leaning back into your seat with an angry huff. You don’t mean it. He can see the tremble of your lips as you try to contain the urge to grin. “Even if we did end up rolling around in the sheets, I wouldn’t be yapping about it for all to hear, much less you guys!”

“What happens in the gargoyle graveyard stays in the gargoyle graveyard, eh?” Franky winks at both Malleus and you, nudging you with his elbow.

“Exactly!” you affirm, batting the large ghost away from you for some much-needed distance. “Now stop being so damn nosy.”

They cackle one last time and everyone seamlessly goes back to their ongoing game. Conversations like the one that just concluded are commonplace in your dormitory. Even if he contributed next to nothing to the discussion, he enjoys watching them interact. You come from a world where ghosts are hardly as overt as the ones in this world. Ghosts are said to entertain themselves by picking on the living, to the point that it can be fatal. Your ability to come up with witticisms at a moment's notice is something he enjoys seeing in action. He feels great satisfaction not only knowing that he has secured your love but to also see you in a state of tranquility and within your elements.

As Benji and you have a hushed conversation on the sidelines, he reaches over and places his hand on your knee beneath the table. You quietly reach over and put your hand over his, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb like it’s instinctual. Unfortunately, the heart-fluttering moment is ruined by the sudden buzzing of his phone. He has half a mind to ignore it, but when he gives the screen a glance he realizes ignoring the caller is not an option.

“I’ll be out for a moment,” he excuses himself once he sets his hand down and stands himself upright. “This shouldn’t take that long, hopefully.”

They all stop to look up at him inquisitively for half a second. In unison, they ask, “Sebek?”

“Sebek,” he affirms.

There are simultaneous displays of annoyance, pity, and silent wishes of good luck directed at him. He’s tempted to ask where all this contempt for the boy comes from, but then he remembers the many times Sebek barges his way into their dorm at the worst possible moments. It is either when everyone is beginning to settle down after a long day or in the middle of an important house project, the former more so than the latter now that the dorm is much more stable and in need of less restoration. Malleus learned the hard way how ill you and the ghosts will react when your peace is unwantedly interrupted and your space invaded by an unwanted guest.

Sebek is also quick to scrutinize whatever he sees out loud without a filter. You never seem to mind half of the time, merely rolling your eyes and moving past Sebek’s ill-meaning remarks as if you never heard them. As you are someone Malleus highly regards and holds close to his bosom, he hopes Sebek can one day set aside his strife with humankind and give you the due diligence you deserve.

...Though, he completely understands that reaching that point will take time. While you can endure Sebek to a certain degree, there are times where he, unfortunately, pushes you past that threshold and, without flinching, you will tell him to “Shut the fuck up”. Your words, not his.

“Young master!” Sebek's transmitted voice peaks and he has to half pull it away to give his pained eardrums some relief. “I was informed by Lord Lilia that you will be spending the night over at the Human’s dorm. Have you all your accommodations at their estate? If not, I will swiftly-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he half laughs at his enthusiasm over such a small task. “I have enough to keep me comfortable and well for a few days. Your offer is still very much appreciated.”

“Y-Yes, of course,” he stutters. “If there’s anything you should ever find a need for, please inform me at once! I will fulfill your every wishes no matter the hour!”

He’s enthusiastic and ready to act at a moment’s notice, even during the middle of a cold and dark hour. Malleus doesn’t necessarily dislike this part of Sebek, but he’s starting to understand why someone like you would find such subservience difficult to deal with. At any moment, Malleus could ask Sebek to grab some insignificant item of his and tread through the thick snow to deliver it to him, and the boy would do so with jubilation and utmost timeliness. You on the other hand wouldn’t be caught dead ordering someone to do something on your behalf when you believe you are well and capable of doing it yourself.

You don’t put expectations onto the backs of others, choosing to trust yourself first before anyone else. He knows now that it’s a result of the one instance where you expected something from someone, only to be thoroughly let down and left wondering if it was you who did something wrong.

Malleus cannot make up for the pain you’ve been subjected to, but he hopes that he can become the outlier in your life that surpasses any preconceived notions you may hold onto others. He hopes...No, he absolutely will be the one who brings you your well-earned and deserved joy and repose, just as you have done for him and continue to do so.

You love him, and he will ensure he is worthy of every last drop of your fidelity.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst writing #twst fanfic #fanfic: courtship #reader insert #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fanfiction #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #x reader

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draco-kasai · 3 years

Text

Hero Collaboration Program

Summery: High School Hero Collaboration Program! Helping Sophomore hero students connect with others around the world! Come join us for a two-week-long trip to one of our schools for an amazing once in a lifetime experience with students of Yuuei! Only a lucky 40 students will be selected for this program. They will be split into two groups of 20 and sent to different schools to have completely unique experiences!

A/N: AKA, A very ambitious fanfic I started because even though I have another fanfic in progress my brain decided to give me an idea and I just had to do it. These are all characters I adore and I even did lots of reasurch on them to hopefuly get them down right. I also too many backstories and threw them into a meat grinder to remold them in a way that would make them fit into this universe.

I love Class 1-A, but like they need to be taken down a peg or two, and I want to see them get their asses handed to them.

Ch. 1 part 1 of 3 Program sign-ups. -->

Chapter 1 Part 2

High School Hero Collaboration Program

Helping first year hero students connect with others around the world!

What is the HSHC Program?

Our program has had a partnership with Yuuei High School for 15 long years! Their first-year students would come to our schools to interact, learn and study with other sophomore students for two weeks! - For those who don’t know, first year high school students in Japan would be considered sophomores here in the states! - A select few students nationwide as well as worldwide are selected to participate. All services and activities are offered and provided at no cost to participants or their families. This program is geared to help young heroes become (1) more informed of the educational, social, and cultural aspects available, (2) learn how to work with others they are unfamiliar with, (3) gain a better understanding of hero agencies and laws around the world, (4) assist students in successfully gaining connections with other aspiring heroes around the world their own age.

Student Participants

A total of 40 lucky students are hand selected to take part in this 16 day long program. 28 slots are open for Nationwide applications. The remaining 12 slots are open for applicants across the world! Students are to go through a long application process and in person interview. Once admitted, students will be staying within the dorms that are provided. All plane tickets will be paid for by our program. This program will take place in two schools; Marina High School located in California and Chandler High School located in Arizona.

All partners who wish to apply together must submit a joint application and answer an extra essay question. Only accepting duo teams. Bigger teams are asked to either pair off and sign up as duos, or sign up individually. The whole purpose of this program is for young aspiring heroes to meet others and form connections.

Application

All applicants are required to turn in two essays (unless a team). There is no page or word limit, 12 size text, font New Times Roman, single space. Along with your essays, please send in two teacher recommendation letters. A checklist will be provided at the end of this packet. Make sure to use it to assist you in keeping organized. Everything can be either faxed to (951-262-3062), given to school office faculty to hand to us or through mailed to 1640 Riverside Drive, Hill Valley, California.

Applicants that make it past the first stage of the application process will be scheduled for an in-person interview. A letter will be sent out within two weeks after the interview confirming whether or not you have been accepted.

Essay 1.

When you become a hero, what do you hope to accomplish?

Essay 2.

What major event in your life has led you to where you are now and your decision to become a hero?

Essay question for hero teams.

How did you meet, and when did you decide to work together as a team?

Emerald eyes narrowed as they skimmed over the packet that had been handed to them. With one last look over, they turned to face the person who had given them the packet. Bright blue eyes stared back with a large smile plastered on their lips. “What is this, Grayson?”

“It’s the Hero Collaboration Program!” Richard Grayson – Part-time Gotham Police officer and Underground Hero: Nightwing - responded enthusiastically.

Green eyes rolled skyward at the older boy’s words, “I can see that. All my teachers at school had even taken the liberty to constantly remind us about it. What I mean is, why did you give this to me?”

“Awe common, Kiddo, I thought you were smart.” Jason Todd – Vigilante: Red Hood – joked as he ruffled the younger boy’s black hair. With an annoyed grunt, his hand was swatted away, “We want you to apply for the program.”

With a huff, the youngest fixed his hair, “And why would I do such a thing?”

The oldest boy grinned wider, “It’ll be fun!”

“No.” The youngest replied with a deadpan expression as he tossed the thin packet on the coffee table in front of him.

With a click of his tongue, Jason crossed his arms over his chest. Leaning back on the loveseat, he responded, “Just apply you brat, it’s not even that bad.”

“What’s ‘not that bad’?” Another voice asked as they walked into the living room, laptop in one hand, a cup of coffee in another.

“The Hero Collaboration Program.” Jason responded as he glanced over at the sleep-deprived man as he flopped down next to him.

“Oh! They started accepting applicants already?!” Timothy Drake – CEO of Wayne Enterprises and Underground Hero: Red Robin - sat up enthusiastically.

“Yeah, but Damian doesn’t want to apply!” Dick pouts

“I’m not going to apply to a program that does not benefit me in any way shape or form.” Damian rolled his eyes.

“Wha- but it teaches you so much! Your teachers must have told you about the benefits!” Tim frowned, taking a sip of his coffee.

“They did, but I don’t have any need for socializing.”

“Are you kidding me? You’ve been six years and your only friends are Jon and Maya, and honestly, I don’t think it counts. Maya is in her last year of high school and Jon is a year below you. You need friends your own age.” Jason responded, then waved his hand about, “Even if they're scattered across the continent.”

“I thought he made friends when he was sent to that boarding school in San Francisco for two years when he was eleven?” Dick raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, Titan middle school, right?" Tim hums, "I mean, they helped him become better, I guess?"

"Honestly, I feel like that was the work of the school itself, not them. Besides, Damian doesn't even text or call them like he does Maya and Jon." Jason huffs

“You've been snooping through my phone.” Damian glares as he pulls a knife from nowhere like magic.

"In that case, how will this help him if he isn't even close to people he went to school with for two years?" Tim thought out loud.

"Well, back then it was regular school and classes. Schools don't offer more hero electives till sophomore year in high school. The program does lots of team building and training. What better way to make friends than when your life's in their hands?"

"That's a good point," Tim nods in agreement.

“Didn’t you, like, date Raven while you were over there?” Dick teased, elbowing his brother

“No. I did NOT date Raven.”

“Wha- really? You seemed so close.” Dick blinks in surprise.

"Dude, she's dating Garfield."

"What?! Really?"

"How the hell do you know that?"

"Kori."

"Oh… right, I forgot she mentioned that."

"Dude, she's your wife. If she knows you block out her rants, she's going to kill you."

"... I don't… block out her rants."

“We’re straying off-topic.” Tim hums, hiding his smirk with his drink as Damian, who proceeded to slowly stand, shoots him a glare before a hand grabs the back of his color and pulled him back down.

“Oh! Right, the Hero Collaboration Program!” Dick grins

“I think Damian taking part in the program is a good idea.” Everyone's eyes flickered over to the entrance where Bruce Wayne – Owner of Wayne Enterprises and Underground Hero: Batman – stood with Alfred Pennyworth, besides him. “This program will benefit you and help you make friends with people your own age, maybe even teach you something new.”

“Your brothers all attended the program, master Damian.” Alfred gave the boy an encouraging smile as he handed out drinks for everyone in the room, “In a way you could consider it a tradition at this point.” The younger boy took his drink silently as he pondered the words the older man had given him.

“Oh yeah, I guess it kind of is tradition at this point, huh…” Tim hummed, finishing his coffee and graciously handing the empty cup to Alfred, who shoved a cup of water in his hands.

“I joined during… what? During their third year of existence?” Dick wondered out loud as he leaned back on the couch.

“That’s correct, master Dick.”

“Haa~ I was Bruce’s test dummy to make sure the program was actually useful.” Dick chuckled softly.

“Pft seriously? Thanks for your sacrifice.” Jason smirked, making Tim let out a soft laugh.

“I suppose.” Everyone fell silent to look at the youngest Wayne, “If it’s a tradition at this point, I suppose I have no other choice but to partake in it as well.”

“That’s the spirit, Lil D!” Jason grinned.

“You’ll have fun. You’ll learn a lot, too.” Tim smiled, taking the smallest of sip of his water. With a glare from Alfred, he took a bigger gulp.

“Yes! Oh, man! I can’t wait for you to tell us about it when you get back! Maybe we should tell him stories of our experience!?” Dick energetically exclaimed as he practically bounced in his seat.

Bruce gave the boys a soft appeasing smile as they all cheered, making Damian scrunch up his face at the loud sound. With a soft sigh, he walked across the room to his office. Along the way, he gave his youngest a soft hair ruffle, making him groan.

Damian Wayne. Age 16. Seat 11. Student Rank 1. Hero Name: Red Bird. Quirk: Quirkless

Martial arts, hand-to-hand, sword, expert detective, hacker, stealth.

___

“Alright, class, make sure to think about signing up for that program! It’s a very good opportunity! You’re dismissed for lunch!” Mr. Barkin, a big man with an obvious werewolf mutation, dismissed his class.

A slim girl with long bright brown hair walked next to a beautiful dark-skinned girl with wavy black locks. The ginger hummed as she stared down at the packet that had been handed to them near the end of class, “I don’t know, what do you think Monique?”

“I think it sounds like a lot of fun! Kim, girl, this is an O.I.A.L.T. E; Once In A Life Time Experience!” Monique paused and frowned.

“That was a long one.” Kim smirks at her friend.

“Ugh, I know. Never gonna use that one again.” The girl waved her hand in the air. Both girls stopped in front of a locker, “But It still stands! You should totally do it!”

“But what about you? And – and Ron?” Kim leans against the lockers, watching as her friend opens hers to put away her books.

“Psssh~ Pu-lease, I’ll be fine! I’ve got work at Club Banana and a bunch of homework to keep me company!” The brown eyed girl closed her locker, and they began their trip to Kim’s locker, “As for Ron, well-“

“K.P!!” Both girls turn to see a blond rushing over, “Did you hear about the exchange program!? Are you signing up? Please tell me you’re not leaving me! We’re supposed to be a team!!” He cried out as he hugged his friend.

The redhead huffed softly before prying her friend off her, “Ron, so not cool.”

“Yeah I – sorry K.P I just – I heard about the program and assumed you’d sign up and leave without me.” Ron sniffled dramatically. From his pocket, a small pink rodent climbed up to his shoulder and nodded in agreement, making small squeaking noises. “See! Rufus and I would miss you…”

Monique rolled her eyes with a smirked as she gently pushed the two forward to keep walking, “You know, the program is accepting team sign ups~”

“Wait really!?” Ron gasped as he brought the packet back up to read. “Oh my god, they are!”

Kim frowns, “I don’t know, then you’d really be alone, Monique.” They stop at her locker.

“Oh common Kim. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity! You have to S. I; seize it! You’re not going to be a sophomore forever, girl.” Monique leaned on the lockers with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Yeah! It’s a good opportunity to learn about other school systems! Did you see who they're partnered with K. P? It’s Yuuei High school! Yuuei! They're, like, the best in Japan! At least that's what the rest of this thing says and what Yori told me when I did that whole” Ron waves his hand in a circle as he shrugs, “seven day long Japan exchange thing during First Semester.”

“You still have yet to tell us much about that.” Kim smirks as she opens her locker, “Japan is one of those places that have schools that specialize in training hero’s, right?”

“That’s right!” Everyone looked up to the projection of a boy their age sitting at a desk, “Hey girls! Hi Ron, Rufus, Whatcha guys talkin’ bout?”

“Hey Wade. We’re just talking about Some program that’s partnered with Yuuei.” Kim smiled at the screen as she put her things in the locker.

“Oh! The Hero Collaboration Program?” Wade’s smile widens.

Kim rolls her eyes half-heartedly at her friends' excitement. “Of course you’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah! Tell Kim that She’s GOT to GO!” Monique gave her friend a glare.

“Wade! Tell us about Yuuei High School!” Ron practically begged, shoving past Kim before standing behind her again. His best friend shot him an annoyed glare.

With a sigh, Kim finally nods, “Tell us about the school.”

Wade grins and begins quickly typing away on his laptop. A few images began appearing next to him, “As you know, Yuuei High School is known as a hero school. They’re known for ranking number 1 in hero schools across Japan. Their competitor, coming in second by just a bit, is Shiketsu High School. If you ask me though, Shiketsu is obviously better, I mean, look at those uniforms! So wicked! Look at those hats and blazers!”

“Right, about Yuuei.” Kim gently reprimands when she notices her friend is straying off-topic.

“Oh, right! So, from what I’m seeing so far, I think Yuuei has an unfair entrance exam.”

“They have Entrance Exams?” Monique asked with a raised brow.

Wade nods, “Yeah. In Japan, to get into high schools, students are required to take an entrance exam.”

“Right, so, why do you think it’s unfair?” Kim raised a brow

“Well, looking at their sports festival, Just about everyone in the hero program has a “flashy” quirk. When you compare it to other hero school’s and their graduating classes, their quirks are more balanced. Um, one sec” Wade’s eyes narrowed, his pointer finger stretches out like a wire, and he connects to his computer. A moment later, his eyes turn blue and data begins to quickly rush through.

“Is it just me or is he… taking longer than usual?” Ron raises an eyebrow after four minutes pass.

“Mm, another reason to be glad our school has an hour-long lunch…” Monique hums as she leans on a leg, a hand on her hip. They watched in silence as Wade frowned and bit his lower lip. After three more minutes, the boy smirks, disconnecting himself, making his eyes turn back to normal. “Got it.” he grins as he leans back in his seat.

“Uuuuh, got what?” Ron tilts his head in confusion.

“I hacked into their system. It was pretty tricky considering it was made by the smartest being in the world, but nothing compared to me and my quirk. They had a bunch of firewalls and backups too, I think it was a lot of fun to get through.” Wade smirks as he shows them different class schedules for different courses, “I redacted all the important information, but it seems like this school also separates all of their courses. Hero course students, General Education, business, and support. They all learn different things, never interacting unless necessary.”

“That’s… different.” Kim raises an eyebrow. “Um, should you really be hacking into the system of the ‘world's smartest being’ Wade?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Kim. Hack helps make sure I’m untraceable and if Nedzu did get an alert, which I worked my way around, and somehow traces a location it’ll just lead him to random computers in a random location of Japan.”

“Wow, The support course students don’t have any combat classes.” Ron frowned, obviously preferring to look at the schedules to listening to the conversation.

“Hold up - Why does General Education have a Quirk Positivity class? This is high school? Shouldn't they have that class in elementary school?” Monique crossed her arms over her chest. Face filled with confusion.

“Right? Not just that, but the school conducts a sports festival, that they compare to the Olympics every year, that puts all the courses against one another.” Wade closes and erases the schedules, replacing them with a video reel of fights and highlights.

“Wha - why even call it a sports festival!? All they're doing is fighting?” Ron frowns before grinning as he watches one of the students punch another, “Booya! Look at that right hook!”

“Oh snap! He flipped him like a pancake!” Monique grinned as they watched the highlight reels.

“Why would they do that? Isn’t that practically advertising your quirk to all the villains in the area?” Kim rose an eyebrow

“It says that it’s done to ‘promote their students to other heroes for field studies.’ The kids receive internship requests by heroes that want to take them on. It’s dumb though because, according to this, only fifteen students from both hero classes combined got internship requests! And one of them got 4,123 requests!”

“They're promoting their students like they're the newest fashion trend.” Monique frowns, looking away from the video.

“That’s… only fifteen kids? Seriously? What about the others? Do they just… not do anything? Why can’t they all just apply like we do? I - My brain can’t process...” Rufus squeaks in sympathy as he pats Ron’s cheek with his paw.

Monique frowns in thought, “Hey, wait a minute… you said that the sports festival includes all the students, right?”

“Yeah, Three day’s worth of sports festival, one for each grade.”

The girl scoffed, “They're using the other courses to make the hero course look better, aren’t they?”

“What do you mean, Monique?” Kim frowns

“Think about it, girl, you saw the schedules. The hero course is the only course with combat training.” Kim’s eyes widened in realization.

“Duuuude, not cool! If they all had at least the same level of experience, it would be a lot better.” Ron frowns as he crosses his arms.

“Exactly! Personally, I prefer the way our school system is set up. Anyone who wants to take hero classes can take them, and if you don’t finish the credits, you’re in the academy longer. Not to mention, anyone who wants field experience could just apply and do the internships.” Wade crossed his hands over his chest.

“Wade, you're taking support course electives.” Kim smiled softly, “but you have a point.”

“Of course I do! I’m doing field study with the space center! You and Ron go every other weekend to work with the hero agency, and when vacation comes along you’ll be allowed to do more than just patrol. I just… this is just... “Wade signs, “At least I know how to fight and defend myself if anything were to occur.”

“A little worked up there huh, Wade...” Ron gave him a sympathetic smile

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly, “Anyway, will you and Kim be applying guys? They accept duo teams.” Kim thinks about it for a moment before letting out a soft sigh and smile.

“You know what? What the heck, let’s do it, Ron.” Kim smiles, “I think it’ll be really cool to get in and talk to other people not from around here. Make some new friends, and possible future partners.”

“Boo-ya! We’re so getting in!” Ron held up a finger for Rufus to high five.

Kim and Monique smile at one another, thanking Wade, the redhead closes her locker, “We can celebrate with Bueno Nacho AFTER we get accepted. For now, let's go get lunch before the break ends.”

“You think they’d let Rufus in?”

“Ron, I don’t know if they’d let your pet in the program.” Monique smiled

“Gasp! Pet? Rufus is NOT a pet! He is our partner!” the little rodent nods in agreement as he squeaks in response.

“Maybe we could ask when we get past the interview process. We’ll have to see, don’t get your hopes up, though, Ron.” Kim smiles softly, patting the boy's shoulder.

Kim Possible. Age 16. Seat 2. Student Rank 2. Hero Name: Possible. Quirk: Quirkless.

Kung fu, acrobatics and gymnastics, cheerleading skills, martial arts, hand to hand

Ron Stoppable. Age 16. Seat 9. Student Rank 11. Hero Name: Koi. Quirk: Karmic Luck.

His good luck fixes his bad luck. His natural bad luck places him in bad situations, however thanks to his quirk they always turn in his favor. For example, He once tripped over a rock, which caused him to dodge bird poop coming at him.

Basic Hand to hand, Ninjutsu

____

A young teen with black hair sat in a chair in their room, the red sleeves of his sweater pulled up to his elbows as he tinkered with a few things. The door to the room slowly opened to show a scrawny man with his blond hair in a beanie. Seeing his younger friend working, he walked in and waved the others in. Walking in, everyone made themselves comfortable in the room. A buff, burly man, walked closer to the teen. With a good slap on the back, making the boy shout in surprise, he greeted him.

“Hey there, little man!” He grinned widely, crossing his arms over his chest. Brown eyes blinked in surprise as he spun around on his chair to face the four adults.

“Oh! Hey guys! What brings you four here?” The younger boy asked with a smile as he adjusts himself in his seat. The adults all glanced at each other for a moment. A girl with purple streaks in her hair held out a packet to him, a small smile on her lips.

“We wanted you to apply for the Hero Collaboration Program.” Honey Lemon began as the boy began to read it.

“You’re a really smart kid, Hiro. Graduated from high school early, taking hero and support classes at the same time at the institute.” Gogo smiles.

“You’ve made awesome support weapons and during battle training you’re, like, wicked smart.” Fred praises.

“Buuuut you’re also a kid. A kid that’s friends with a bunch of adults, we want you to make some friends your own age.” Wasabi grinned sheepishly, everyone nodded in agreement.

“Do… you guys not like being my friends?” Hiro frowns, looking back up at them, dejection clear on his face.

“No!” They all shouted at once.

“It’s not like that!”

“We love being your friend, little dude!”

“You’re an awesome dude!”

“We don’t hate you!”

“We’re not trying to make you feel like we hate you!” Wasabi sighed as he ran a hand down his face, “We just want you to make friends your own age.”

“Yeah, you graduated from high school pretty early on general studies, and are now taking both hero and support classes at the institute, but you never really got a chance to make friends your age.” Honey Lemon explained.

“We already called to ask if you’d be able to apply.” Gogo smiled.

“Yeah! They said that they understand the circumstances considering your quirk and will make an exception! Of course, they said that just because they’re letting you apply doesn’t mean you will be accepted! That’s all on you, my dude!” Fred grinned as he shot the young teen finger guns.

Hiro stared down at the packet in his hands for a moment. They're not wrong. Because of his quirk, he had practically breezed through school and graduated at 11. He’s never been interested in heroics or any of that stuff, but even if he wanted to, no hero school would have accepted him because of his young age. Finding boredom in just staying home, he began to tinker with things and began to build small robots for fun - and maybe to con a few people out of their money - but he’s never pursued anything specific.

He hadn’t even thought about going into support until his older brother had brought it up when he was thirteen. After lots of hard work, he had gotten into the biggest hero school in the Tokyo prefecture, Institute for Heroics and Technology. He thought about applying to UA in shizuoka but he decided that the school was too over rated and stayed in Tokyo. He had stuck to the technical side of things, at least till his brother was killed in an explosion. It had taken a lot of convincing, but he was able to get his friends to help him take down the villain that caused it. He and his friends had become vigilantes and once they had captured the culprit he was reluctant to stop. It wasn’t long till he found himself in the heroics courses as well.

Now that he’s reflecting on it, they're right. He doesn’t have any friends his own age. Taking a deep breath, he nods, “Alright, sure. I’ll apply.”

“Really!?” Honey Lemon practically squeals in excitement.

“Yeah, besides, it says that the kids at Yuuei are participating. They’ve been through a bunch of villain attacks already, It’ll be interesting to see how they compare to other heroes in training.” Hiro leaned back in his seat, a leg crossing to rest on the other.

“Oh… Oh, no, that’s his ‘I have plans’ smirk, guys.” Fred stage whispered to the others.

“Should I be feeling bad for the Yuuei kids or the exchange kids he’ll be with if he’s accepted?” Wasabi asked, making Hiro burst into a fit of laughter.

“... Both.” Honey Lemon squeaked.

“He’s going to have fun.” Gogo smirked.

Hiro Hamada. Age: 15. Seat 13. Student rank 3. Hero Name: Zero. Quirk: Prodigy

His brain functions at a faster rate than possible, making it easy for him to process and retain information, giving him genius level intelligence.

Hand to hand, Martial Arts, builds his own support items.

_____

“No way man.” A dark skinned boy groaned as he tossed his backpack on the ground and sat himself on his desk chair, the wheels sending him back a bit.

“What? Miles, dude common. This event is for sophomores ONLY. You’re never getting this opportunity, ever again!” Another male walked into the shared room and closed the door behind him.

“Ganke I just got the hang of swinging around, the school year is going to end in a few months meaning finals are coming up, I don’t need to stress myself out more with this program.” Miles huffed in response, riffling through his backpack he pulled out his textbooks.

Sitting himself at his own desk, the boy responded as he grabbed his own things, “That was three months ago dude. The school year doesn’t even end until June, we’re barely getting into November, and this program is supposed to be fun. Did you even read that packet? You’ve been stressing yourself too much by adding so much training on top of your school work.”

“...... I can’t rest Ganke, you know that. I have to hurry up and graduate, so I can take over what Peter had left for me.” Miles let out a tired sigh as he slumped back on his chair and stared at the ceiling. “I know what happened to him wasn’t my fault, I get that, but… I just… I could have done more, you know? Like, I know he took me in for field studies because we have similar quirks, but I’ve looked up to him for so long and to be acknowledged only for it to be torn away all of a sudden… We became so close… He wanted me to take over the mantle of Spider-man and I just… I can’t let him down…”

Ganke sat in silence for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts before speaking, “I get that you want to take over the mantle of your mentor, but common man. Take a breather. We’re teenagers and you're burning yourself out. Peter wouldn’t want you to burn yourself out like this. You need this break.”

Silence fell in the dorm room once again as both boys started their homework. It wasn’t long for Miles to find himself tapping his pencil against his desk. Ganke’s words floating about in his mind. With a weary sigh, Miles re-read the packet that he pulled out from where he had stuffed it in a text book. “Your right… I do need a break.”

Ganke grinned widely and kicked off to roll over to his friend, “That a boy!” he cheered, slapping his friend’s shoulder, “Now then, let's talk support items! I've had this idea on making little nubs for your gloves that can discharge electricity for like a week now! I bet you’d like it! The trip is supposed to be in Late February, right? We have so much time! We can test them after school! You can even put them to use on the field when you do actual combat during Christmas break’s field studies!” Miles snorted at his friend's enthusiasm.

Miles Morales. Age 15. Seat 9. Student Rank 4. Hero Name: Spider-man. Quirk: Dolophanes Conifera.

Has characteristics of a wrap around spider. He can camouflage with his surroundings and shoot spiderwebs from a small hole from his wrists. He can effortlessly cling and climb walls thanks to the settles on his hands and feet. Is most active during the night. If he bites anyone, a venom is injected to temporarily stun his victim.

Hand to hand, fast reflexes, flexible

____

A raven haired boy with bright blue eyes groaned in frustration as he slammed his face on the kitchen table. His older sister with red hair frowned with worry, “What’s wrong, Danny?”

“Mr. Lancer handed out some packet for heroes and, like it sounds like fun, but it doesn’t allow trio teams.” Danny responded as he rested his chin on the table.

“Hero? I thought Tucker is in for support, while Sam handles the business aspect when you guys started your own agency?” The older sibling frowned in confusion.

Danny sticks his lower lip out in a pout, “Well, yeah but…” He sits up right, “Sam and Tucker are encouraging me to sign up, and It’s cool and all, but… I just…” The boy paused, turning over the words in his head in an attempt to organize them. His sister waited patiently for him to speak again, “I’ve never felt so… lonely I guess. Like… Tucker and, surprisingly enough, Kyle are going to be handling the Support items and any other tech-savvy stuff. Sam has Wes for business stuff, even if they do argue a lot, but I… have nobody.” The boy buries his face in his hands, “It’s stupid, I know…”

“W - what about Valery? She wants to be a hero too, right? You two were pretty close…?” His sister tries to reassure.

“Yeah, but she hates my guts now, Jazz. Remember the whole incident I told you about with quirk training?”

His older sister frowns at this. Her blue eyes looked over to the packet her brother had set aside. Taking it, she read it over silently before smiling softly, “Well, I definitely agree with Sam and Tucker that you should apply.”

Danny looks up with a frown, “But I’d be all alone…”

“Danny, the whole point of the program is to meet young aspiring heroes your own age. I'm sure you’ll make a friend or two while you’re out there.” Handing her brother the packet, she watched as his eyes roamed over the words again.

“I… I guess you’re right.”

Jazz smiles reassuringly at her brother, “Of course I’m right. Now then, let me help you fill that thing out.”

Daniel James Fenton. Age 16. Seat 8. Student Rank 5. Hero Name: Phantom, Quirk: - REDACTED - Ghost.

After turning four, his quirk, cryokinesis, had manifested. When he was 11 he was involved in a lab accident that -REDACTED- mutated his quirk. He can now turn invisible at will, walk through solid objects, fly, minor telekinesis, ghost wail, cryokinesis. He has no need to breathe, can last a week without food.

Hand to hand, night vision, stealth, enhanced hearing.

Chapter 1 Part 2

#fanfiction #my hero academia au #this story is very ambitious #i really hope you guys like this #my friends and I really made laws #and a whole school system #damian wayne #kim possible #ron stoppable #hiro hamada #miles morales #Danny Phantom #crossover fanfiction

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beautifulterriblequeen · 3 years

Text

Trickster: an Ethari theory

I've had yea many Ethari headcanons, and I hope I live to have yea many more. Most of them are probably wrong, or incomplete at best. But boy are they fun.

I love to wonder what Ethari will really be like in canon when we get to know him for more than 3 minutes, but whoever he really is on his own, he will have an effect on Runaan , Rayla, and everyone who loves him, because they love him.

The first headcanon I can remember having for "Tinker" was that he could be like Leonardo da Vinci: a genius, creative, surrounded by beautiful ideas given shape by his hands, but also capable of creating deadly weapons, enchantments, and devices with equal beauty, and perhaps not really seeing where the line between them was. It was fun, but Ethari has ended up far softer than my headcanon, and I love and support him in his softness!

After a nice string of Ethari headcanons, this year I've started poking at the Trickster archetype and seeing if it applies to him. And I think it absolutely does!

Tricksters often seem like Chaos. But they're not. They're just Difference. "Chaos" is subjective. Like the "divergent" in "neurodivergent." Who says? Divergent from what, exactly? Perspective matters, and Tricksters have a very broad take on things which allows them to think outside any box people might try to invite them into.

My enjoyment of Loki has brought all kinds of ideas to my dash with the arrival of the Loki show. I've got a copy of the Edda, and I highlighted the hell out of it a couple of years ago as I searched for the roots of Loki's origin story. (It's truly fascinating reading and the symbolic language hidden inside their poetry is dazzlingly amazing and I'm super using it sometime just so you know)

Loki is a Trickster, and he's far from alone in myth and legend. Anansi, Coyote, and Sun Wukong are some you may have heard of. Aaravos is another, of course. Tricksters can be called upon to lend aid and wisdom when the rules don't have an answer for some extraordinary circumstance which the Trickster's people find themselves in. But that's not because they are truly outside the rule of order. They are actually a part of it. They are the catch-all for when the everyday ordinary rules fail people, and something "unthinkable"--in the literal sense--might just hold the answer.

This post crossed my dash today, and something finally clicked in my head, and all of this coalesced from what felt like separate places. But they're not separate, not anymore! Serotonin, baby. It's basically upped my headcanon to a full-blown theory.

What caught my eye was an answer to why Ethari's clothing is so determinedly asymmetrical, compared to Runaan's specifically, but Moonshadows in general. It's because of this:

Long protective sleeves below patterns on shoulders. A high collar paired with a bright and noticeable swoop around the neck. Fine detailing and graceful taste. Asymmetrical tunic point on the left, below broad strappy leather. Knee high boots with stylish protective gaiters.

And let's not forget the curling horns! In some comics, Loki has a broken horn. So does Ethari.

Yes, there is a lot of similarity here, but I'm not focused so much on the visuals as the reason they were chosen. Feel free to consider other aspects of Ethari's personality and how they might be similar to certain parts of Loki's. I did! But I wouldn't be me if I didn't go deeper than that.

My favorite book in the universe (so far) is Lois McMaster Bujold's The Curse of Chalion, and one of the many reasons why is because of her pantheon. It holds five gods, represented by a hand: Father, Mother, Son, Daughter, and Bastard. The first four all have their roles and places. The Bastard--the thumb--inherits everything else. He is the god of all things that do not belong to any other gods, and that includes self-sacrificing vengeance and queerness. He is a Trickster, and his influence on Cazaril's life is far deeper than at first glance. Chaos has its place. It belongs, and so do the Tricksters who engender it. God, I love this book. Please read it if you haven't. Bujold's work is amazing.

If you've seen or read any version of MDZS/Untamed, you know that Wei WuXian is a trickster. Competent and badass in battle, but playful and teasing to the point where sometimes even he isn't sure what he truly wants, he can bring a massive amount of power and focus when he wants to. It's always a matter of "but is it important to me?"

I love WWX so much. The Trickster vibe is very apparent in his character, and in a way you just don't get in Western media. We see him on his own, and we see him with family and loved ones. And he's always feeling something so intensely! He's driven by his emotions, for good or ill. He vibes with chaos, and he will create it if it doesn't exist yet. But he will also create family from nothing, and that's something you don't see enough of! WWX is a Trickster with an emotional preference for joy.

In TDP, Ethari doesn't have a lot of lore yet. It's being Moonshadowed because spoilers for future seasons, and I respect that. The longer the wait for S4, the more ideas I will just amuse myself with in the meantime--and yeah, this is one of them, so what? :))) But we do know a little about him.

He loves music. He loves to read. He leaves his mark on things in swirly form. He works very hard, even through headaches, because what he's doing is that important to him, even though he would much rather be making jewelry. He loves taking the time to polish rough stones into brilliant jewels, and he adores big pretty flowers and had them at his wedding.

Ethari has a temper, but he also loves puns. The weapons he crafts are exquisite: "light, elegant, strong, and clever." And he knew darn well that Runaan was trying to flirt with him, but why return a sentiment he may or may not feel yet when he can play with the overly earnest assassin just a little bit first?

Okay, just... A "simple craftsman" deciding that it's going to be fun to toy for a bit with a broody assassin's feelings? Would you risk that? Ethari got balls the size of the moon, and a brain to match. When he has to make weaponry, he does not half-ass it. Ethari's stabby creations nearly have a life of their own. His creations are literally called "trick weapons." This elf is a lot, okay. And it's possible that he doesn't even know how "a lot" he is. Yet.

We're meeting Ethari after he's found something that is, in fact, genuinely important to him: Runaan, and Rayla, and Laindrin too. Ethari has found a relatively stable place to settle and find a role to adopt. I say adopt, though, because making weaponry for his loved ones is not what he grew up wanting to do. It's what he had to do to keep them safe, once he found a place to bestow his heart.

But in the show, Ethari has lost his family, one by one. First Lain and Tiadrin, ghosted. Then Runaan, supposedly fallen on his mission. Then Rayla, ghosted for abandoning Runaan. He and Rayla have reconnected now, but the rest of his family is still out of his reach. If Rayla has indeed told him, by S4, what she learned at the Moonhenge in TTM, then Ethari may parallel Rayla's journey to seek answers. But even if he doesn't know yet, and gets pulled into some other story arc first, we will be seeing Ethari without his family.

Remember the ATLA episode "Zuko Alone"? Consider: "Ethari Alone."

Ethari has chosen, for love, to fit himself into a box that wasn't of his own making. And now that box has broken. His family doesn't need him to be their craftsman anymore. Perhaps others will need him to be other things to them. Or perhaps he will know that his family does need him, but to be far more than just a maker of pretty swords. A rescuer, perhaps. A healer, a guide? An avenger?

A trickster. Capable of taking many shapes, because he understands them all. Ethari works with form and function. If he needs to transform himself, he will.

That's what Tricksters do. It's delightfully queer and delightfully neurodivergent. Ancient peoples accepted and revered the different among them and actively sought their help with things they themselves struggled with.

Tricksters are Difference. Sometimes that manifests as chaos, sometimes as genius. But if you do not love and appreciate your chaos, it will absolutely turn on you. Wei Wuxian did. Loki certainly has, many times. Perhaps Aaravos is doing so as well.

I cannot wait to see what Ethari does with his difference. I have something very specific that I hope he goes and breaks.

All this from a picture of Tom Hiddleston in his Avengers 1 Loki costume? Yeah. Because Ethari was designed to wear asymmetrical clothing, in a Moonshadow culture that prides itself on balance. Sure, there are some other Moonshadows who wear this or that asymmetrical item, and I do love to see it. But Ethari has the most asymmetrical lines of them all. The meta glee I feel knowing that Moonshadow elves are designed to hold many layers of meaning in their appearances--that the writers, creators, and character designers just flexed with them--is truly a delight.

Ethari is asymmetrical. The full and practical application of that is a glass casket, and I hope it becomes a gift that keeps on giving, because boy do I want to keep receiving it. But right now, I'm genuinely seeing evidence of the Trickster archetype in him. And I really hope it gets to come out and play.

#tdp #tdp theory #ethari #trickster #tdp speculation #yes this means a whole new category for ruthari opposites #order and chaos #ethari and order are both on runaan's list of likes #but ethari is higher so #loki #wwx #wei wuxian

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robertsheehanownsmyass · 4 years

Note

heyy!! can i request a klaus x reader smutty fic please 👀👀 thank you!

The End Justifies the Means

Klaus Hargreeves x Fem!Reader Klaus surprises reader with a steamy hike in Brazil. Little funny, a LOT smutty, a little cute. Rated M

Holy hell, were all the bugs the size of airplanes in this place?

Another insect buzzed in your ear, and you swatted it away in irritation. “Fuck,” you panted. “I swear, if another pterodactyl tries to eat my face, I’m going to scream.”

You could hear Klaus chuckle even though he was several paces ahead of you. “This is called ‘broadening one’s horizons’ darling.” He paused and looked back at you; his short curls only just beginning to wilt around the edges from the sweat that was starting to appear at his hairline and neck. “And I thought you were the adventurous type.” He flashed you one of his trademarked grins, and you scowled.

“I’m all for adventure, but this…is…ridiculous…” you swatted another bug. It seemed the more you perspired, the more insects swarmed you. “How much longer is it?”

“Oh, quit complaining,” he sighed. “It won’t be much farther, and this little hike came very highly recommended.”

You sighed and steeled yourself. Yes, you were born and raised in the city. That didn’t mean you were completely oblivious to the great outdoors, which you loved. You had been on plenty of hiking and camping trips. But this was Brazil; it was an entirely different ballgame. First of all; the heat was insane. It wasn’t so bad when you were lounging on the beach by the ocean, sipping a cold beer or a frozen cocktail. But out here in the rainforest, with the humidity slowly evaporating your energy and those god forsaken insects trying to suck your blood, it left something to be desired.

“Klaus,” you called out, trying to diminish the irritation in your voice. He was, after all, clearly having the time of his life. As uncomfortable as you were, you didn’t want to ruin that for him. He paused again, and looked back at you. “Can I have a swig from that canteen of yours?” He smiled and backtracked the short distance to where you were standing. You had a small moment to reflect on how out of balance the two of you were just then; he with the backpack and the air of the adventurer, and your sorry-self with the ridiculous bandanna wrapped around the top of your head to help keep the sweat and insects at bay– flushed and sweating buckets.

“Ah, thank you,” you smiled at him gratefully, as you gulped the cool water. You fixed him with a playful glare. “This better be worth it, mister.”

He smirked at you. “I think you’ll be pleased.” He turned and started to walk again, calling over his shoulder, “we won’t get there if we keep stopping. Hurry up!”

You bit off a few internal expletives and soldiered on. You were on a small trail in what could easily be described as pure jungle, about two miles from your hotel. You took this trip because you had so desperately needed time away. Both of you had been run completely ragged with the complications your lives entailed. Once there were no more proverbial fires to extinguish, the two of you had agreed to clear two weeks just for yourselves, and here you were. A romantic getaway in Rio de Janeiro; sipping rum drinks and getting massages and shagging on 800 thread-count sheets. So why were you huffing and puffing through the jungle? Well, Klaus was excited about it, so you agreed. After all, who could refuse Klaus when he was excited about something?

You walked and sweated and made your best effort; doing your best not to trip over any roots. After about another twenty minutes, just when you were about to ask for some more water, Klaus stopped abruptly, holding up his hand to signal for you to wait. He trotted forward a few paces as if to check on something, and then quickly doubled back to you, smiling.

“It’s just up ahead,” he grinned, taking your hand. The two of you walked a short distance and around a small bend in the trail. When you rounded the corner, you were completely stunned by the sight before you.

Before you stood the most beautiful waterfall you had ever seen. It wasn’t particularly large, but what made it so breathtaking was the intimacy of the place. The waterfall fell perhaps fifty feet at most, but was surrounded by vines, rocks, and incredibly lovely flowers. The pool at its base was a nearly perfect basin, and everything about it was lush, vibrant, and yours. The place was quite literally, all yours. For the entire two plus miles you had walked, you didn’t see another person.

You felt Klaus’s arm around you and looked up at him. He was positively glowing with pride, looking down at you. “Do you like it?”

“Oh Klaus,” you said. “Klaus, I just– I’m sorry I whined so much on the way over. This was worth it…this is amazing.”

He grinned, and wrapped his arms around you. “I so hoped you would like it. I wanted to take you someplace really special. Not a restaurant or anything; someplace really amazing. So I asked the best guy I could think of– the bartender at the hotel.”

You laughed. “Well of course they would know all the best places.”

He laughed with you. “Yes! Not only that, but he assured me that nobody would bother us if we came back here today. So…here we are.”

You looked back at the incredible vista before you, then back up to his angelic, hopeful face. “You did well, Klaus. I feel like an ass for complaining so much on the way here.”

He stepped back a few paces, unshouldering his pack. He let it fall to the ground with a soft thump. His eyes gleamed as he looked at you. “I figured you wouldn’t like the means, “he smirked at you, “but I hoped the end would make it all worthwhile.”

You felt a flush wash over you. “Whatever do you mean, Klaus?” you smirked playfully back at him.

He stepped toward you, wrapping his arms around you again. “Darling, doesn’t the end usually justify the means?”

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard. You grabbed the back of his head and answered his kiss, pressing your lips into his forcefully. You opened your mouths to each other, and your tongues danced and probed, gaining passion.

Before the moment could get any more heated, he broke off, suddenly.

“Not yet, love. Let’s refresh ourselves. Fancy a dip?” He cocked his right eyebrow at you questioningly. You smiled, all the blood rushing to your extremities.

“Well, as it happens, I am awfully hot…” you smiled knowingly at him. You stepped back and pulled your tank top over your head in one quick motion. You paused, allowing himself to drink you in. He ran his tongue along his lips briefly, and stepped to you, grabbing the waistband of your shorts. You stepped back, smiling impishly.

“Uh uh, you first.” You pointed at his chest. He smiled resignedly and pulled his tee shirt over his head much in the same way you did. You took a moment to appreciate his chiseled form before he resumed his previous ministrations. “Now, my turn.”

He quickly unbuttoned your shorts and unzipped the fly before pushing them down a little roughly. You stepped out of them, revealing nothing but black panties which matched your bra. He reached around you and unhooked your bra with ease. Again, he paused to survey you. He reached one hand up to cup a breast, and kneaded it softly before you stepped back and, more breathlessly this time, said, “nope, you still have too many clothes on.”

He chuckled devilishly and allowed you to grasp the elastic waistband his shorts. Down they went, and he was left in nothing more than leopard print briefs. You took a moment to appreciate his incredibly beautiful form. He was tall and lean like the Adonis of mythology, or better yet—the statue of David; beautiful and perfect. You could see the shape of his cock straining through the relatively thin material of his briefs. Never, ever would you tire of looking at him. And here he was, with you, looking at you the same way.

Fueled by your happiness and desire, you pulled off your panties in one quick tug, and turned toward the waterfall’s pool. “Come on, catch me,” you panted, as you ran toward the edge and dove into the pool. You had only just surfaced when you heard the answering splash. You swam toward the waterfall, grabbing onto a small rock just near the point where the falls connected with the pool. You turned, gasping, laughing, and saw him pop out of the water just in front of you. You laughed again and grabbed his shoulders, and his arms grabbed your waist from under the water. You both laughed as you held each other; completely invigorated by the cool water and the absolute perfection of the moment.

You kissed again, deeply and passionately. You wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted yourself out of the water to give yourself better leverage, and kissed him thoroughly. His tongue probed your lips, and your mouth opened to his. You explored the depths of his mouth with your tongue as his hand gripped the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair. You enjoyed this passionate exchange for several moments before he broke away and suddenly grabbed you, lifting you from the water.

He moved to the edge and set you on the little rock that you had swum to near the spot where the falls met the pool. As he stood, he was able to rise out of the water in front of you. You looked at him, gasping.

“Tell me how much you want me,” he said, as he spread your legs apart and began to massage your clit. “Tell me.”

“Oh Klaus,” you gasped. “I want you. Don’t stop touching me.”

“Tell me more,” he growled, and he slipped a finger inside you. You were so wet.

“Klaus! Klaus– you’re so hot, and your fingers feel so good,” you moaned.

He inserted another finger, and probed your depths whilst rubbing your clit with his thumb. His mouth was on yours again, and he caught your bottom lip in his teeth, sucking, biting. He hooked his fingers, hitting your inner g-spot, and you cried out. “Klaus, please…”

Your back was arched and your head thrown back in ecstasy, so you were not entirely prepared when you felt his mouth on your sex, replacing his thumb on your clit. You cried out again as he sucked and licked, all while pumping into you with his fingers, driving you into a frenzy. You grabbed fistfulls of his hair as he licked you to a mindblowing climax; wave after wave hitting you as you cried out.

After you subsided, he lifted his head and winked at you. “It’s a good thing we have this place all to ourselves. Did I ever tell you how loud you are?”

“Shut up,” you panted, lying back along the rock wall, the spray of the waterfall enveloping you. He chuckled and began to turn away. You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Now now, we’re not finished yet, are we?”

You slid off the rock and pushed him up against the rock wall. His cock was standing just above the waterline, at full attention.

“Allow me,” you said, and you bent to the task. He let out a small, “ Oh,” as you put your lips on the head of his cock. You put your other hand at the base of his impressive shaft, massaging up and down as you sucked. You took his length the best you could; his tip bumping the back of your throat before you drew it out again. He moaned as you pulled and sucked, increasing your pace until he was gasping for breath. “Oh my love,” he panted, and you felt his balls twitch as his climax neared. “Oh babe, I’m gonna come…” Before he could, you released his cock from your mouth with an audible pop, and quickly turned and swam off, leaving him standing there in hip deep water; chest heaving.

“Where…where you…” was all he could manage between pants, and you looked back at him, grinning mischievously. “Did you think this game was over? Catch me!” You giggled and submerged, swimming toward the other side of the pool. You came up at the other side, in a place that was covered with vines and other vegetation. You were beginning to contemplate whether you should get out of the water when Klaus was on you, half-laughing and half-growling.

“Got you,” he breathed as he lifted you out onto the edge of the pool. He stood up, matching your height. His eyes glittered as he pushed you back and spread your legs, exposing you. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he gripped the head of his cock and positioned it at your entrance, its lips swollen with arousal. He put your thighs over his shoulders, and turned his head and gave one of them a quick bite. You jumped a little, then giggled. He put his hands on the rocks on either side of your body, and pushed his full length into you. You both gasped as his cock filled you, stretching you, and he withdrew almost completely before shoving himself back in. You forced your head up to look at him as he began thrusting steadily, and his eyes lifted to meet yours. You locked eyes as he pumped; fucking you, rocking your hips, and you cried out in ecstasy. “Klaus, oh god,” Your hips bucked as he slammed you, your skin slapping audibly at the contact. You raked your nails down his back as he pounded into you, and you felt your climax building. “Don’t stop!” You cried, and he thrust again and again and again, your orgasm arriving full-force, blackening your vision. Wave after wave of pleasure overcame you, and he moaned. He tensed up as his own climax hit him, and he spurted his seed into your depths.

He lay on top of you, limbs completely spent. You panted together, and you twined your fingers in his curls. After a short while, you sat up, and cradled his head against your breast, stroking his face.

“Well that was something,” he breathed, and lifted his head to meet your eyes. There was so much tenderness in his expression that you thought your heart would break from the joy of it. He chuckled.

“What are you laughing at?” you said, smiling.

“Didn’t I tell you the end would justify the means?”

@joz-stankovich @spaceclone-mom

#klaus hargreeves x reader #robert sheehan character fic #the umbrella academy fic #love stories event #klaus hargreeves smut

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tchallasbabymama · 4 years

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The Temple- Chapter 3

Taglist: @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @quietstorm-73, @ladymac82

Read Chapter 2 if you haven’t already, and let me know if you want to be tagged. Don’t forget to check out my Masterlist!

CW: smut

Word count: 4231 “Hello, my prince. I am Aisha.”

The words sounded like a prayer on her lips. Aisha.

“N’Jadaka.” The prince gingerly grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it, causing her to giggle at the tickling feeling.

“I am aware. This is your first visit?”

“That obvious, huh?”

Aisha full on laughed this time, a melodious siren call. He wanted nothing more than to let her drag him into her waters and keep him for eternity.

“Painfully so. No worries, I’ll ease you into it.”

N’Jadaka’s ears perked up at her forwardness.

“‘It’ being…?

“The reason we were called to each other.”

He leaned in to whisper into her ear, just loud enough for her to hear him over the crowd.

“And what reason is that, beautiful?”

The prince’s arm went around her waist, and he felt her place a kiss just under his collarbone. N’Jadaka just about melted right then and there, so Aisha grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd in the opposite direction from the entrance. Instead of another large door, this part of the temple was only separated from the rest by an ornate purple curtain, and when she drew back the curtain his eyes travelled to the winding staircase before them. Vibranium lit the halls as his eyes took in the artwork on the wall, some different stories of Bast and others scenes of sexual pleasure featuring the oldest Daughters of Bast from thousands of years ago. After staring in awe at his surroundings, the prince’s eyes fell to Aisha’s ass. It was by no means the biggest ass he had ever seen, but it was the perfect size and shape for his hormones to go crazy.

“How much farther?” He asked, pulling her back towards him and placing his nose in the crook of her neck, taking in her sweet natural scent.

“Not much farther, my prince. I promise.”

“I like when you say that shit.”

“My prince?”

N’Jadaka grinded his erection into her lower back and she reached back to grab him by the balls, making him release a whimpering sound in her ear.

“Not yet...my prince. There is much we must do before I let you experience Bast’s blessings.”

He pulled back and tilted her face towards him, staring into her light brown eyes.

“What else is there?”

Aisha chuckled darkly and pulled him along once more, hand never moving from her warm cradle between his legs. He followed with his bottom lip wedged perfectly between his teeth, trying not to bite down as hard as he wanted to.

__________

He swore the temple was bigger on the inside, or maybe it was just his raging hormones making the walk seem impossibly long. Once they arrived at what N’Jadaka assumed was her door he felt like they had been walking for forever. She opened it and motioned for him to enter.

“After you, your highness.”

N’Jadaka stepped in and took in his surroundings once more. The room was dimly lit and the lingering smell of incense greeted him before anything else. The only window was stained glass with a large kaleidoscope pattern that N’Jadaka was sure would look amazing in the sunlight. He took note of the massage table in the middle of the room, and then he noticed a bed as well as a chair over to the side. He could barely hear faint instrumental music playing in the background.

“So you’re a masseuse, too?” N’Jadaka asked Aisha.

“We are all well-versed in many physical arts, including massage.”

“So you’re good with your hands?” he asked with a devilish smirk.

Aisha smiled knowingly.

“Yes your highness, I am.”

“Well let's get to it then.” He rubbed his hands together and walked towards the massage bed, He stopped when he noticed the hole near the middle.

“Wait, is that for my dick?”

Aisha giggled.

“Yes, my prince. Some find it uncomfortable to lay on an erect penis during a back massage, and others enjoy it as part of a kink. We will see which one you are. Either way, you will be receiving a full-body massage in every sense of the word. Would you care to lay down?”

“Yes ma’am.”

N’Jadaka laid on his stomach, awkwardly placing his dick through the opening.

“Feels weird just hanging like this…”

“It always does at first, but if you wish you do not have to utilize it.”

“Nah I’m curious.”

“Are you ready to begin, my prince?”

“Uh yeah, let's do this” He said, trying to mask his nerves. He was instantly calmed down when she placed her hands lightly on his head to feel his energy and slowly trailed them to his feet, touching everything in between and acquainting herself with his body.

“Lavender or eucalyptus oil?” Aisha asked the prince. He pointed to the lavender bottle and she pumped some into her hands before rubbing them together.

When her hands came up to knead at his tense shoulders, her strength surprised him. He had never felt anything like that before. Her thumbs beat the shit out of his tension and the heels of her palms ran it out of town.

Aisha’s hands moved to his lower back and he let out a moan that he wasn’t expecting, before clearing his throat.

“It’s ok, you know? Moaning, expressing yourself in that way. If it feels good it feels good.”she told him.

N’Jadaka nodded slowly, not trusting his voice at the moment.

Her strong hands made their way to his backside and he giggled.

“Sorry, I guess I’m ticklish.”

“Plenty of people are, it’s a very sensitive area.”

She continued to knead his glutes and he tried to speak through his giggles.

“So- aha, how long have you be-been doing thi-sss?”

“Just two years. I got the call young so I started studying anatomy, massage therapy, reiki, and acupressure. When I hit adulthood I began my training to be a Daughter of Bast, and after three years I was able to officially call myself a Daughter.”

Her hands moved to the backs of his thighs, which was no better for him sensitivity-wise and he felt a stirring in his loins. He could feel his dick hardening and being pulled down by gravity herself the more it grew.

“Three years? That’s a long time.”

Aisha smiled at his attempt to make conversation.

“Yes, but it flew by. It takes time to learn the physical arts, even with my background.”

“I like that y’all call sex ‘physical arts’”

“Not just sex, my prince, but intimacy. What we are doing now is intimate, yes?”

“Hell yeah it is,” he said with a smile.

“Everybody comes here for different reasons,” She began as her hands moved down to his calves. “Some require sex, some just need us to lend an ear, some need the relaxing environment, some need to be held...it varies from person to person.”

“Makes sense. So what do I need?”

“Everything I just mentioned. Life was not kind to you, and that much loneliness doesn’t just disappear with talk therapy. Humans require intimacy not just for survival, but for our mental state as well. And I don't mean just in terms of sex. No, I mean familial relationships, romantic and platonic relationships. Even the intimacy that comes from community. That love and support and closeness can come from anywhere, you just have to be open to it. But it is difficult if you’ve never been given that chance before. After all, a child not embraced by their village will burn it down to feel it’s warmth.”

A lump formed in the prince’s throat as he thought back to the scorched Garden of the Heart-Shaped Herb.

“I’ve heard that somewhere before.”

“I’m sure, it is a very old proverb.”

Aisha massaged his feet and he felt his body respond to her touching the corresponding pressure points. He felt a rush of blood and his dick immediately jumped.

“How are you feeling,” Aisha asked, already knowing the answer.

“Relaxed and horny. Yo this upside down glory hole is kinda nice though, I might have to get a bed like this...”

“May I pleasure you like this or would you prefer a different position?”

N’Jadaka froze as if he had forgotten why he came here.

“Uh yeah, this is good…”

Aisha crawled under the massage table and sat on a pillow, cross-legged under his raging erection.

“If it pleases you, I will start with my hands.”

“Oh, it pleases me…”

She pumped some unscented oil into her hands before bringing them up to his dick. It was sensitive to her touch and he winced as she grabbed the base with one hand and massaged the tip with her other hand.

“My prince, there is no pride or ego here. When you feel the need to release you do so. Do you understand?” “Yes.”

“I did not hear you.” She said as she squeezed a little tighter around the base.

“Y-yes!”

“Good.” Aisha smirked and her focus returned to the task at hand. She used her fingertips to tease the underside of his dripping dick, watching with joy as it tried to twitch out of her grasp only to be pulled back in by her soft hand sliding up and down his shaft. His foreskin pulled back more and more as his dick grew in size and thickness the more she worked it. When she reached for his balls again he nearly lost it, letting out a loud guttural moan.

“Looks like I found it,” she giggled to herself.

She added more oil to her hands and coated his sack with one hand while working just under his head with the other, causing the vein under his dick to throb more and more until he released on her face with a growl. Each time his hips jerked, more spilled out and Aisha couldn’t help but get a taste. She swiped her finger across her face, gathering his cum, and brought it to her lips to sample the salty goodness. She brought the flat of her tongue to the underside of his already sensitive dick and ran it along the length to the tip, pressing her tongue into the still-leaking opening of his urethra hoping to catch every last drop. When she took him into her mouth, the prince stopped her.

“Hold on babygirl, I want to watch you suck my dick.”

Aisha crawled out from under the table and he stared at her cumstained face in awe. She looked even more beautiful than before. He slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the table before looking around the room.

“We doing this here, or…”

“Where do you want me, your highness?”

Aisha watched his dick twitch at her words and smirked at her power over him.

N’Jadaka motioned to the high-back leather chair near the stained glass window and she grabbed his hand to lead him over to it. He sat down and she stood between his legs. They stared into each other's eyes before he pulled her in for a sloppy kiss, not caring that her face was dripping with his essence. Their arms snaked around each other and she caressed the back of his neck while he gripped her ass tight. He pulled back to admire her body, taking in her deep brown areolas, and bringing his tongue out to taste the sweet saltiness of her skin.

His tongue worked one nipple while his fingers kept the other company. He alternated between the two, lazily tonguing and sucking and nibbling her erect buds causing Aisha to let out a moan that was more music to the prince’s ears. It was one of those deep, low moans that starts in the gut and travels up the spine before loudly breaking free. Her nipples were extremely sensitive to his touch and as she came down from her high he peppered light kisses around her chest.

“My prince…” Aisha said between breaths.

“Yeah, beautiful?”

“It’s your turn again.”Aisha said while sinking down to her knees before him. She began to drool at the sight of his already hard and leaking dick, throbbing because of her. She stuck out her tongue and opened wide before taking him inside her mouth to the hilt, tongue swirling around the bottom of his ever-thickening dick.

“Fuck! Girl y-you better suck the fuck out this dick.”

Aisha swallowed and sucked his dick like her life depended on it, cheeks hollowing and spit dripping down her chin.

She removed herself from him with a loud pop, and a thick string of saliva connected her lips to his bulbous head. She traced her tongue along the underside of his dick from his frenulum to his ballsack. She brought his balls into her mouth one at a time and worked them on her tongue while lightly suckling on them. Her hand never left his dick, pulling back his foreskin and stroking along his shaft.

“Babygirl, if you keep that up I’m gonna come.”

“No holding back, remember?” She took his balls out her mouth and looked at him with a devilish smirk before placing her lips around his head, and hollowing her cheeks to suck him hard and sloppy. Her tongue came out to massage his dick and he let out a stuttered moan before he burst inside her mouth.

Aisha made sure to clean her plate, sucking him dry and licking up anything left behind. He grabbed her by the chin and pulled her closer, smacking a kiss on her juicy, cum-covered lips. He loved how he tasted on her.

“Do you have one more for me, your highness?”

“Of course babygirl, how do you want me?”

She didn't answer verbally, choosing to push him back and straddle him instead.

“Oh so it’s like that?” He secretly loved her brief flashes of dominance.

Aisha lowered herself onto him, sliding all the way down until they were connected pelvis-to-pelvis.

“M-my prince, you are v-very big.” She struggled to get the words out, distracted by the way his dick stretched her out.

“Yeah and you got that tight, pretty pussy babygirl. Lean back, lemme watch your pussy swallow my shit.”

Aisha did as she was told and planted her hands on his thighs before leaning back and allowing him a view of her treasure trove.

“Ooh, fuck. That’s right, take my shit deep.” N’Jadaka.

“Your highness, it’s so deep.”

“You like that shit?”

“Mmm, yes sir.”

“Bounce on it then” He said as his fingers dug into her ass.

Aisha used her thighs to lift her body, then gracefully slid back down his pole with her hips circling like wind in a tornado. He was caught up in her storm, eyes intensely glued to hers. Her hand came up to grab his chin and hold him in place while her other hand sneaked into his messy dreads. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned down to kiss him and lightly snuck her tongue in his mouth. The kiss was soft and sweet as she grinded her hips slowly into his. They moaned into each other's mouths and climbed towards their peaks together.

“Mmm you feel so good your highness. How do I make you feel?”

“Like I’m on cloud nine babygirl. You got some strong juju in this pussy, I can feel it.”

Their foreheads leaned against each other and she picked up her pace, slamming her ass down on his lap.

“Keep that up and Im cumming in that pussy”

“Please, my prince. Cum inside me.”

At her command, his body convulsed and he released his seed deep inside her. She pulled up and only rode the tip of his dick, making him release a whine-like moan into the crook of her neck while his dick throbbed once more, pushing out the very last bit of semen his body could provide. Aisha’s pussy clenched and she let loose a deluge of her juices onto the prince before sinking back down and relaxing onto him. Their bodies still connected, they stared into each others eyes and took deep breaths in and out until they calmed their heart rates down.

“How do you feel now, my prince?”

“Call me N’Jadaka.”

“Alright, then. How do you feel, N’Jadaka?”

He paused to think about it, leaving them in silence for a minute. Still inside her, his fingers aimlessly traced patterns into her hips while her fingers lightly ran through his hair. She laid her head against his chest and he placed his chin on top of her head. He had never been held like this before. So calm, so close.

“Lighter. Open. Tired.”

They both laughed at that last one.

“Lighter and open how?”

“I don't know how to explain it, I just- don't feel as heavy and closed off in my spirit.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, I just-,” N’Jadaka began to tear up and Aisha brought her hand up to wipe them away as they fell. She gave him the time to let it all out. When he was able to talk again, he cleared his throat. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

“How what could, N’Jadaka?”

“Living.”

She pressed a kiss to his forehead and they continued to talk for a few more minutes before they finally parted. Aisha walked N’Jadaka back though the temple to retrieve his clothes and when they said goodbye neither wanted the other to leave.

“I am sure I will see you again, my prince?”

“Come on with that ‘my prince’ shit.” he said with a smile, causing her to send him one right back. He pulled her in for a hug and they both took in each other's scent.

“Be safe getting back, N’Jadaka.”

“I’ll see you around.” He kissed her cheek and turned to leave, nearly tripping over a black ball of fuzz.

“Isa? Hey lil mama, what’s good?”

The cat purred and rubbed on his legs.

“It looks like she likes you. You know what that means?” Aisha leaned down to pet Isabis, too.

“Nah, what?”

“You’re pure of heart-”

He looked at her and his eyes got misty before he noticed a smaller black fuzz ball making it’s way over to him.

“-and she finds you worthy enough to care for one of her babies.” Aisha answered with a smile.

“Aww, Isa.” He said as the cat moved to lick the kitten on it’s head before turning back to the prince. He reached out to greet his new friend but was beat to it by the kitten jumping into his large hand.

“It looks like she’s happy with her mama’s decision.” Aisha looked on with pride. This man had transformed right before her eyes and she couldn't be happier for him and his progress. “Do you have a name for her?”

He looked at the little black kitten intently.

“Nah, she’ll tell me what it is eventually.”

The two smiled at each other and exchanged kisses on the cheek once more before the prince was off to the palace with his new fur baby.

____________

“Someone seems to be in a good mood,” Shuri teased the moment he walked in the door.

“Hello to you too, beanstalk.” N’Jadaka threw it right back at her, and fully expected her to make some jab at his scars but the kitten distracted her.

“Bast, she’s adorable! Where did you find her?”

“The temple.”

“Ohhhhh, I’ve heard they have kittens everywhere!”

“Yeah you still got a couple more years before you get to visit all these cute little guys. Isn’t that right….” N’Jadaka paused, thinking a name would come to him. “Damn, nothing.”

“What's the problem?”

“I can’t think of a name. I don't want to just be like ‘hey cat come here’, you know?”

“I get it, but once she shows you her personality it’ll be easier to name her.”

“Name who?!” Nakia rounded the corner with a scowl on her face.

Without a word, the prince held up his new kitten and her face softened. She immediately grabbed the kitten and sat down with her on the couch.

“She’s the cutest! Did you get her from the temple?”

N’Jadaka cleared his throat, not necessarily wanting to go into details with these two. Especially with Shuri’s young ears around.

“I did. There’s a cat that fosters the kittens-”

“Isa? Oh how is she?”

He chuckled at Isabis’ popularity.

“She’s fine, she pushed this one on me and now here we are.”

“I understand, T’Challa and I have two that run our lives. Once this baby gets here I fear we will be outnumbered.”

“What’s T up to anyway? I want him to meet his new little cousin.”

“He’s in his office getting some work done”

“Bet. Can I have my child back please?”

Nakia kissed the kitten’s head and reluctantly handed her back to N’Jadaka.

“Thank you!” He waved goodbye as the kitten climbed up his arm to lay on his broad shoulders. Neither of the three of them could contain their ‘awww’s.

The prince made it to T’Challa’s office on the business side of the palace. The guards saluted him and after he saluted back he noticed their ear to ear smiles. He felt a tug and realized they were smiling at his kitten trying to play with his hair.

He walked in, interrupting what appeared to be a meeting on the screens in front of him. He recognized several of the faces as Avengers.

“My bad…”

He tried to slip back out the doors, but T’Challa stopped him.

“Nonsense, you should join-” The king paused at the adorable sight before him. “Actually, meeting adjourned. We can pick this up tomorrow.”

As the Avengers screens went black, N’Jadaka sat in the chair across from his cousin. As soon as he got close, the kitten leapt from his shoulder to the king’s desk.

“So I take it your time at the Temple was fruitful, umzala.”

“Fruitful? Nigga I almost fell in love and I came home with a child.”

“Love?”

“I mean, I know it's nothing because they do this all the time but damn she was something else.”

The kitten had taken to T’Challa, naturally, and began to climb up onto his shoulder.

“You’re correct that they are professionals, but that doesn’t mean a spark wasn’t felt. Our grandmother was a Daughter of Bast. She chose to leave the temple when she married our grandfather, but that was how they met.” The king explained while play-fighting with the kitten on his shoulder.

“I didn’t think that was possible...so they're not married to Bast or something like that?”

“No, they are free agents. Some of them stay Daughters after marriage or children. Several leave and come back. Bast is the goddess of pleasure, and how unpleasurable would it be to force everyone into the same box?”

N’Jadaka nodded slowly, trying to wrap his brain around the new information.

“So have you named her yet?”

“Nah, I figure it’ll come to me. I can already tell she’s a handful.” He said as they watched the kitten jump down and begin chasing her tail, falling over in the process.

“So back to the temple. Who did you see?”

“Aisha.”

“I can’t say I know of an Aisha, I haven’t been in so long. Every time I go, Isa tries to push more kittens on me, and I hate denying her.”

N’Jadaka chuckled at the thought of Isabis and the king’s interactions.

“So this Aisha, are you planning on seeing her again?”

“Hell yes. How soon is too soon to go back?”

“You can go back whenever, but I would suggest waiting until you feel it is the right time.”

The prince thought over it for a moment before responding.

“I saw her before I met her. In a daydream. Then when I saw her in person I felt this warm pulling in my stomach like-”

“Like a chain pulling you towards her. Yes, I am familiar.” A goofy smile appeared on T’Challa’s face as he thought of his wife.

“So you get it?”

“I do, but does she?”

_______________

On the other side of Wakanda, Aisha lowered herself into a fragrant bath and thought over her day. She had told herself it would be an off-day, but then when she saw the prince she felt something in her gut tell her to go to him. When he kissed her hand ‘hello’ she nearly melted at the touch of his skin on hers. She wasn’t used to experiencing those feelings from patrons.

When she caressed and massaged his body, she could feel the pain melt away. When she rode him she could feel his soul opening up and she gladly stepped through the door. She could feel his emotions and she opened herself to him, allowing him to feel hers. When they came together, she saw constellations in his chestnut eyes.

She stayed in the bath, daydreaming about Prince N’Jadaka until the water ran cold. When she emerged from the water, she air dried her body and covered herself in cocoa butter before lowering herself to the floor for her nightly prayers to the goddess.

Aisha pulled back her sheets and slid in naked. She laid there for an hour, mind racing over all the possibilities, before sleep finally took her in for the night.

Next Chapter

#cecewritessometimes #the temple #n'jadaka x oc #n'jadaka #erik killmonger #black panther fic

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

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PARTY FAVOURS I A VENOMOUS INTERLUDE

Did y'all know symbrock is canon? Well, now you do. Reader's favourite deadbeat surrogate uncle is in town and he brought a... Friend. No warnings, just a boatload of crack and fluff, as usual. Reader being mouthy. Takes place a little bit into the future - around after chapter 32: spoiler alert is useless because we already know a tonybrucestrange/reader quartet is the endgame. 💖💝✨

"What," I had to pause for a second for my brain to catch up with my eyes. "The fuck?!"

It was truly a miracle I could say anything out loud, at all. Words weren't valid enough to describe my shock and confusion. The scene unfolding in front of me resembled and unholy cross between a B-rated horror movies about demonic possession and some deep-sea Eldritch monstrosity.

The eight-feet tall black, oozing dude in front of me? Yes, you, with the teeth. Ctulhu called, he wants his tentacles back.

The creature honest to god rippled, like some nightmare-fuel goth Jell-O, rapidly shrinking in size within seconds. As more of the black tar-like substance receded, a much more human form started to appear under it. Worn jeans, leather jacket, ungroomed beard and the look of a biker gang member coming off a serious bender.

"Uh, Princess?"

"Eddie. Fucking. Brock. Uncle Idiot." I punctuated each word with an increasing widening of my eyes. The world was fucking nuts. Two and two did not compute - Eddie might have looked threatening to some people - like white suburban Karens - even without the... Gooey squid-on-steroids thing he had going on. The man was built like a fucking brick shithouse, but I knew him way too well. Eddie couldn't be that badass to save a life.

"You two know each other?" Tony shrieked indignantly, a coarseness in his voice that indicated only one thing: my boo was well into his third drink. Hell, I didn't blame him - that gaping toothy maw was fucking gnarly.

Hands on my hips, I caught myself slipping into a mute rage, storming over to the 200lbs worth of pure dumbass and knocking him right in the face. "You! Didn't tell! ME!" A black tendril wrapped around my wrist, carefully but firmly securing it and preventing me from causing my non-related uncle any more physical damage. Although I must admit, my knuckles probably were more affected than his jaw. "You! Are! A MUTANT!!! HOW COULD YOU?! How could you NOT tell ME?"

I trusted the man with my soul and most embarrassing drinking stories. Hell, I called Eddie in a stoned haze the very same night I lost my v-card. I just thought we were bros, you know? I saw his whole fucking life implode more than once and personally flew to California to ice his injuries and his hurt ego countless times. I was done dirty in the worst way.

"I'm not-" Eddie's sigh was long-suffering. "I, uh, I have a parasite..." He sounded meek, in the same way he used to describe his drunkenly misconduct when I made our family driver bail out his ass outta jail in the morning.

"TAKE THAT BACK!" A deep gravelly voice thundered, seemingly coming out of his chest?

"Okay, okay," Eddie smiled. It was strangely soft and un-eddie-like. The only person he smiled like that was... used to be Anne. "This is Venom. They're an alien and we're, uh, a thing. It's a recent development." The tentacle unwrapped itself from me as I took an involuntary step back.

Even barring the fact that Eddie was dating an alien, this was way too fucking weird for 3 o'clock on a Sunday. I always knew the reporter was, for the lack of a better word, a little weird but he really took it to new heights. With Thor and Loki looking... Like that, I could see a human dating some sort of a hot alien. But with Ctulhu looking the way he did just minutes ago? Did Eddie seriously let all of those teeth in close proximity of his dick?

I had a "ERROR 404, common sense not found" hanging over me for the longest time. The others were quiet behind me, too, even Tony - one of my boyfriends, the most likely to cause utter chaos, was hanging back and expecting me to do something.

"Venom," I clarified, just to fill the silence with some noise while my brain processors re-synced.

"WE ARE VENOM." The tentacle that was sleek and black now had two completely white eyes and a smaller-scale version of the toothy grin that had drooled all over the common room carpet. Their voice had an interesting effect: it was so deep, the air around them vibrated slightly when they spoke.

I tilted my head examining the appendage. It was considerably less terrifying when it wasn't five times my size. "What are you?" And most importantly, are you a threat to my favourite non-related family member? I left that statement unspoken although it was obvious I was ready to fight it? Them? If need be.

"A SYMBIOTE," They replied, swaying the head-tentacle slowly. "WE LOVE EDDIE AND KEEP HIM ALIVE AND HEALTHY." So, they understood the actual question.

"Which is fucked up because Klyntar usually behave in the opposite way." Hearing Thor swear was, perhaps, even more unsettling than finding out about the symbiote-alien-boyfriend thing my uncle had going on. The thunderer himself was nursing a jug of golden liquid. The good Asgardian stuff, he must've been really fucking bamboozled.

"Okay. So anybody wanna fill me on the details before I beat up my favourite idiot?" I sighed, pointedly looking at Tony.

"I thought I was your favourite idiot!" He immediately retorted, hurt, but nonetheless opened his arms to give me a grounding embrace. We may have sucked face for a few seconds, because why the hell not, Tony was an amazing kisser and his tongue down my throat was very calming.

"Hold up, what the fuck?" Now it was Eddie's turn to act all offended. "Aren't you a little too young for him?"

"You and your most likely carnivorous goth space pudding can fuck right off if you're not going to be supportive of my very inappropriate, very polyamorous relationship with three incredibly hot boomers," I shot back, slipping into some resemblance of normalcy. Me and Eddie go way, way back and shitting on each other's bad life decisions was the founding stone of our bromance. Hell, he was the guy who showed me the wonders of sarcasm at an early age! Wonderbaum!

"There's three of them?" Eddie's voice pitched and he gaped, palming his face.

"SHE HAS A POINT, EDDIE. WE EAT PEOPLE. BEING UNSUPPORTIVE WOULD MAKE US LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE." Eddie's buddy stated, sounding almost fed up. So, they were sentient enough to recognize how much of a pain in the ass Eddie could be. I could work with that, disregarding the cannibalism comment, of course. What the fuck was up with that?

"Yes, Eddie, I also periodically bump uglies and trade disgustingly sweet text messages with the Hulk and a badass wizard," I rolled my eyes at the reporter's following gasp and angry muttering. "Venom, I like you."

"WE RETURN THE SENTIMENT. YOUR CHOICE IN MATES IS VERY WISE, CONSIDERING YOU ARE A WEAK MORSEL. THEY CAN PROTECT YOU."

"Shut up, Squid. I'll still kick your motherfucking ass if you hurt Eddie."

The emo space goo laughed, a terse scratching noise, showing way, way too many teeth for me to feel comfortable but I allowed myself to be placed on the couch between Tony and Eddie nonetheless. The initial shock of seeing a talking octopod with fangs passed quickly - I've seen Stephen's "trophies" he brought from his otherworldly journeys and Lovecraftian horrors were, honestly, pretty low on the gross/creepy scale.

"Both of you, explain. For the love of fuck," Tony sighed, emotionally exhausted and drained of his usual bravado.

"Eddie was my dad's friend until he moved to Cali, I've know him for fifteen years, give or take. He taught me how to ride a bike and bake the best pot brownies," I shrugged. There wasn't much to say. "I visited him whenever I could but you know, with school and then you guys, there wasn't that much time to iron out the details." I have Eddie a death glare, pointing to Venom's floaty head with my eyes.

Eddie nodded. "What she said..." And then launched an elaborate tale about some company called Life Foundation, some evil dude named Drake and his own alien pudding named Carnage, who was one ugly motherfucker judging by Eddie's and Venom's combined "ew" face, their aching need for human brains to survive and other, more trivial things, like mental breakdowns in a lobster tank and getting dumped by a fiancé and eating their way through a HYDRA base after being captured and tortured. What a wild fucking ride.

"Sounds like you had a rough year," Everybody's dumbfounded silence was ended by Tony who took a slow swig of his whiskey before speaking.

"Yeah, no shit," Eddie muttered, twisting his black coated fingers in elaborate but frankly pretty shapes. His alien wrapped around his neck like a tube scarf and additional tentacles appeared between Eddie's hands, gently prying them open and enveloping them in a sort of a hug? It was hard to compute, the black mass appeared to be totally amorphous.

"How's your anxiety?" I asked, damn well knowing Eddie's mind tended to run like Tony's: zero to sixty in point five with no clear destination. Having an alien inside of him must've really thrown Eddie for a loop.

"It's, uh, better. Venom helps," The reporter admitted, still staring at his hands but the crease between his brows had disappeared and the expression he wore was kind of fond.

"Good. You know, Venom," I thoughtfully addressed the definitely sentient creature. "Eddie is a bigger dumbass than me, which is saying something. You ought to keep a really close eye on him. If not for me, he'd probably be dead from alcohol poisoning, like, years ago."

"WE ARE AWARE. WE CAN ACCESS EDDIE'S MEMORIES." A head manifested itself on a thicker tentacle, floating over to look me in the face but maintaining a respectful distance and staying out of my personal space bubble. "AND WE ARE THANKFUL. EDDIE IS THE PERFECT HOST. WE LOVE EDDIE."

I felt the corner of my mouth tilt upwards at the alien's proclamation. It was child-like in its blunt honesty but carried a certain weight with it. It told me whoever tries to separate those two in any way would get eaten faster than they could say "SIKE!". And honestly? I would help Venom hide the evidence.

"I literally had you for thirty minutes but I would kill everybody and then myself if you two got hurt. This is too soft, I can't." I snorted, extending a curious hand towards Venom. They looked so shiny. I had to touch them.

And they let me. Venom butted their head into my palm and let me gently run my fingers over their slightly cool, slippery flesh. It felt like putting my hands on a surprisingly sturdy yet bouncy piece of flubber. I purposely avoided the small maw and the endless rows of sharp teeth but managed to accidentally brush against something rough and scratchy - as it turned out, the Symbiote had a very long, very dexterous tongue. And didn't that give me a bunch of interesting mental images.

"Oh my God, NO!" Wanda moaned from somewhere, the voice mortified and disgusted.

"Why are you touching the people-eating alien?" Bruce yelped, entering the room with several people in tow. The scientist looked worried, a little bit green around the edges. The tablet in his hands beeped periodically, signifying the ongoing sciencing bender he was in process of.

"WE WOULD NOT EAT THIS HUMAN. WE ARE FOND OF THE MORSEL." Venom defended, well, venomously. Eddie wisely choose to stay silent, trading a knowing look with Tony.

Stephen Strange sighed, briefly closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with a jagged movement. "One day, Princess, one day you will stop collecting people that are obviously bad for your health and your future. That, or space in the tower will simply run out." With a deeper, calmer sigh, the sorcerer landed in front of me on the floor, sitting cross-legged and subtly begging for a head scratch. Which meant just placing his always neatly trimmed curls under my free hand. His jealousy was about as subtle as a foot in the face.

"I'll just ask Tony to build more floors, duh," I rolled my eyes with force at the obvious solution, giving into Steph's demands, beginning to card through his hair. It was calming both of us, really.

Bruce came over to give me a kiss and my other boyfriends didn't even grumble about the scientist placing himself in my lap, crawling over both Tony and Stephen to get comfortable.

Our dynamic was unconventional and more than a little weird, but it worked for us and the rest of the team most certainly didn't complain about the vast decrease in conflict that came with the territory. Come to think of it, all of us were more tactile than just a group of friends sharing a house and I was very much on board with that. None of us except select few (looking at you, mister doctor) were hugged enough as children and we were making up for it in spades right fucking now.

"Girl has a type," Wanda remarked, like the messy little shit she was. I stuck out my tongue in retaliation.

The Avengers' brain trust began talking about Venom's slightly inconvenient diet that directly resulted in multiple felonies for one Edward Brock, and as much as I tried to follow the flow and make my own, however feeble, contributions to the scientific side of the conversation, the new life form was much more interesting. I asked Venom several questions and they deemed them acceptable enough to answer - which evolved on both of us absolutely geeking out over the differences in our physiology. The space pudding didn't hold back one bit, insulting the inferior human biology with gleeful gusto.

"They need a chemical called phenethylamine," Bruce sighed, having deduced it through discussion since Venom and Eddie both protested aggressively against any kind of invasive testing. "I can synthesize it. No more head-chomping, no more murder."

It made perfect sense. Except it didn't. "Brucie-bear, you're a brilliant fucking scientist but a shit psychologist." I interrupted whatever came next. "Venom is a person, like me and you and, yes, even Hulk. Tell me this: if you found a way to get rid of Hulk, would you stop sciencing in the gamma radiation field?" I looked my boyfriend straight in the eyes, hoping for a spark of common sense. "Do you see my point? You science, Tony engineers, Steve draws and Clint bakes. Venom hunts. It's who they are, you can't give them a pill to make it go away."

The weight of my word landed in the room like lead, heavy. The only source of sound was the TV, playing the news quietly in the background for the longest time. Those few minutes felt like hours until Thor expectantly turned towards Eddie/Venom.

"IT IS SO. WE ARE AFRAID WE CANNOT INFLUENCE OUR INSTINCT TO HUNT PREY. KLYNTAR ARE APEX PREDATORS." The little black goop sounded almost apologetic. It was hard to hear undertones with their voice being so deep and grating. "BUT WE CAN TRY." Okay, I could totally hear the hope. Finding out the Eldritch horror could make puppy eyes was... Terrifying, to be honest, because they fucking worked.

"Got any better ideas?" Tony asked me sarcastically.

"I do, actually." I leveled a look with Natasha. She understood. "HYDRA goons. The aliens that, for some reason, keep invading New York every month or so. Stephen's adventures in Hell. Do I need to continue?"

"Wait, hold on," Steve raised his palms. "We don't kill HYDRA, we deposit them in SHIELD custody."

I snorted at the naïve Captain. "And what do you think happens to them there? Did you honestly think they just let torturing, murdering, world-domination planning psychos back on the streets?"

Steve frowned in confusion. "They go to prison?"

Natasha choose that moment to step up. "It's not uncommon for them to possess certain enhancements to be deemed too dangerous to be released back into society. Some of them are low-tier mutants and inhumans. Trust me, Steve, the lethal injection is a much more humane treatment than solitary life imprisonment in a ultra-high security prison." Romanoff stated with a trace of compassion. "And some mutants, we can't contain for prolonged periods of time." She added quietly, looking away.

Rogers was staring blankly into the wall, mulling over the information in his head. His intensive thought process was plainly visible on his face. I heard about some kind of fiasco with HYDRA agents suicide-bombing a city in Europe few years ago and Steve was there, along with Wanda and Sam.

"Venom is a whole person, and even if they look like they could be the main character in Call of Ctulhu video game, we can't just disregard them like they are some kind of badly behaving pet. They're my honorary uncle's boyf-sorry-significant other, for fuck's sake," I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "Y'all should know I don't fuck with people who give shit to one of my own. Don't disappoint me like that." I finished, feeling more tired than I had in months. I didn't regret giving into the found family dynamic, however I didn't exactly sign up for hard choices like them vs my long lost uncle, y'know?

Great, now I had a headache and three very concerned boyfriends glaring at me for unknown reasons. The urge to pace always manifested strongly within me as the emotional atmosphere rose in the room. With Bruce dangling off my lap, I couldn't do even that and I felt the restlessness blossom into irritation more and more with each passing second of my existence.

Eddie remained silent, looking down. Venom had mostly receded into the reporter's body, save for a few tentacles tightly wrapped around Eddie's palm.

"Alright," Steve suddenly said. "We can work with that."

"Princess, you look like you're either going to cry or yell any second," Bruce said softly, squeezing my shoulder and pulling me closer.

I immediately hid my face in his chest, taking several deep, shaky breaths. "Eddie is family. Y'all are family. It's terrifying to have to choose between the two." I said, after a brief moment of hesitation.

The reporter made some sort of a choked gasp, quickly masking it with a cough - I knew him way too well to miss the way he was fighting back tears of his own. Bruce understood, he really did understand me - hopped off my lap and let me hug Eddie properly, my happy-sad tears soaking through the collar of his tee.

"You're, uh, welcome to stay. I'll have a guest room prepared." Tony cleared his throat, passing his half-finished glass to Stephen who swallowed the liquid in one gulp. My boyfriends were so fucking emotionally illiterate. Disaster humans.

Huh, I really did have a type.

Later that night, I made the mistake of barging into Eddie's room with a bottle of really fancy whiskey I liberated from Tony's overstocked liquor cabinet. Visiting my uncle and boozing and smoking on the balcony, for old times sake, was my plan and...

I failed the mission successfully.

I didn't bother knocking. As soon as I saw a pair of bare feet, my eyes traveled further up on the couch on their own volition. There were so many tentacles, a writhing, oozing silky black mass and Eddie was making sounds, unmistakable noises-

"UNSEE. UNSEE. OH MY GOD, UNSEE, UNSEE." I stumbled back into the common room shivering.

"What happened, is everything okay?" Bucky stood up as soon as he saw me enter the doorway with my face scrunched in a grimace of regret. I felt like I've gone through the five stages of grief in the shortest time possible for a human being.

Somwhere, I heard Wanda's sudden moan full of pain and misery. "Please, stop THINKING about it!"

"Brain bleach, oh my God," I cringed. "Where's the Clorox?! I have decided I don't need my eyeballs-"

"Oooh," Tony's proverbial lightbulb lit up. The engineer sounded like he was about five seconds away from building a space ship and permanently moving to another planet. "They're together-together..." Tony intercepted me nonetheless, doing the most effective thing to make me stop speaking and thinking bullshit. He kissed me. With lots of tongue.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #eddie brock #venom #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #stephen strange x you #venom is babey fight me

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writing-gifts · 4 years

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datura (moth!bruno x butterfly!reader)

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A/N: this fics 30k+ words now and im happy that ive stayed with it this long, but yea thats it lol

First Chapter || Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Reader is gender neutral!

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[Late Fall]

You didn't think you'd be meeting Abbacchio so soon--perhaps sometime after Winter. But one day you're taking shelter from the cold when Bruno comes to visit.

These days you never really know for sure when he'll show but this was definitely earlier than usual. Nevertheless, you're glad to have someone to cure your boredom...until you see there's someone else very familiar with him.

You hide partially behind your door trying to slow your racing heart. Was this excitement or fear? Maybe both?

“Er, you’re Abbacchio right?”

When the wasp nods but doesn’t further speak you look at Bruno, but he simply gives you an encouraging smile. You wanted to scold the moth for the nonexistent forewarning, but at the same time with a surprise visit you didn't have time to fret before the actual meeting.

You’ll have to go along with this either way so you put on a polite smile. “You guys want to come in?”

“No, I'd rather stay out here,” Abbacchio replies.

Your brows furrow and your smile becomes more forced. “Uh…”

But it's cold! What the hell, do you two not get cold or something!?

It takes you a moment but then you realize that the wasp was being sarcastic. Probably. But you’re not sure if it’s because he’s trying to be funny or if he doesn’t like you. Or maybe he was messing with you?

Bruno throws him a bemused look. "It would be more comfortable inside don't you think?”

The wasp stares at you in a way that makes you feel like you're being sized up but eventually relents. “Alright.”

You move so Abbacchio can walk in, but Bruno stops next to you.

"Don't be intimidated. He can be like that toward new people and he’s a little grumpy that he had to walk all the way over here," he whispers.

You look over at the wasp already sitting on the daybed remembering his lack of flight and nod. But you weren’t sure if you wanted to deal with a bitchy bug right now.

Bruno goes to sit, but you scuttle to your room with some quickly mumbled excuse so you can collect your thoughts.

What were you supposed to do? Entertain them both? You were far removed from having to actively entertain Bruno when he came over so you felt out of your element.

This meeting should have happened in Spring instead.

You must have been in your room for too long because Bruno shows up.

When he sees you sitting on your bed he raises a brow. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing really. I’m just unsure what to do so I'm hiding. Are we like hanging out?”

Bruno shakes his head. "I don't understand. You don't need to do anything."

"But I feel like I have to since Abbacchio is here though. And he really doesn't look like he wants to be here."

"Well, we aren't going to stay too long if that makes things better. He just wanted to see you. Of course he's too prideful to admit that though."

"Well…He could just be more polite though," you grumble.

"Then he wouldn't be Abbacchio…" Bruno sighs. "Don't worry I talked to him so it'll all work out."

You purse your lips. "...Hey next time just give me a heads up if you're bringing someone over, okay?"

If your unexpected guest was just a little amiable then you wouldn't have cared but that wasn't the case.

Bruno looks a bit surprised that you seem genuinely annoyed, but he gives you the affirmation you want. So even though you're still reluctant, you move off the bed.

“Okay we can go back.”

You walk ahead of Bruno and when you get to the main room you try to talk to the wasp again.

“Uh...Do you want anything to drink?”

"No thanks."

"...Okay."

Instead of sitting down you stand there. Bruno wouldn't lie to you but the wasp's behavior said otherwise. Your friend gently grabs your arm and leads you to the daybed to sit.

"Do you want me to get you something to drink ____?"

"...Sure? It can be whatever."

You realize too late that if he's getting drinks, he’s going to leave you alone with Abbacchio. You squint at Bruno as he exits the room. It shouldn't take long but you're sure Bruno's going to take as long as he sees fit.

So while he’s gone, you sit there quietly sneaking peeks at the wasp trying to figure out how to move things along. He sits, leg spread, looking at nothing in particular.

You had seen the occasional albino insect but this was the first wasp. Which isn’t surprising since you kept clear of any. Until now.

“What?”

You flinch from the sudden break in silence. “W-What?”

“You keep looking at me.”

You try to smile but it definitely comes off more as a grimace from the weird look you get in return.

Sighing, you frown. “I’m sorry. I’m going to be straight forward and say that I feel super awkward right now, and I don’t know what to say or do.”

The wasp crosses his arms. “...You don’t need to say anything. I actually prefer the silence.”

"Oh."

You continue to sit in silence that's slightly less awkward, but again the wasp breaks it.

“How’s your leg?”

Your eyes widen a bit from him trying to start a conversation. “Oh, it’s okay.”

You stretch out your leg, bending it a few times. There was no more pain but a bunch of scars were left behind around your thigh and calf.

“That's good.”

Since he was here you could show your gratitude in person. You hesitate for a moment but remember what Bruno had told you at the forest clearing. And you didn't want to let this possible conversation die.

“Hey, thank you for helping me that day. You really saved my life. And the fact you managed to open that lizard's mouth was pretty amazing!"

You see the stern expression on the wasps face slightly fall, and he gives you a nod. “It wasn't anything--I mean….You're welcome.”

You give your first genuine smile today and Abbacchio looks away looking a bit flushed.

A moment later and the moth finally returns.

"I’m back with your drink ____."

You turn towards Bruno as he walks towards the daybed.

“What the hell were exactly doing in there Bucciarati?” Abbacchio looks over, sounding unimpressed with Bruno's little plan.

"You're not slick Bruno," you add.

He raises a hand in surrender. “Okay you got me. But it worked didn't it?”

You look at Abbacchio.

“...I guess it’s a start,” Abbacchio says.

"I saw you blushing from the kitchen," Bruno says.

“I--Leave me alone.”

You hold back your laugh lest you want to be scowled at by the wasp next.

Bruno hands over your drink and you thank him and relax back into the daybed. Maybe it's okay if they decide to stay longer.

----

For the first time this season, you can't fly. Even after trying to warm yourself up with all your blankets, you'd only be able to stay off the ground for a short time before your wings would give up. And unless you were planning on climbing up the stems of the flowers near your home there was no way you were getting any nectar.

So over the next couple days, whenever you couldn’t fly, you were content with spending most of your time sewing, knitting or sleeping. Even the days where you could fly you'd find yourself spending most of the day inside anyways.

But after a while you start to feel confined in your home, and you suppose you need to do something different. So you finally gather the courage to venture a good distance from your home by yourself.

You decide to use this opportunity to visit a neighbor--a self-proclaimed “vegetarian” spider--so you can get started on Bruno's 2nd gift.

Before you were hesitant to go, even with the gift on the line, but after everything that's happened with Abbacchio you were more at ease with the idea.

Once you actually see the spider's small home, you notice there's no webs for you to get stuck in.

With the spider's help, you hope to learn how to create sheer cloth or lace as he called it. In return, you're willing to part with the rest of the honey you had sitting around.

There was the option to trade for already made lace but you were hellbent on making this gift all on your own. When you tell the spider, Ilyas, this he seems even more excited to share his passion.

“Rarely anyone likes to visit me!”

You smile feeling a bit sad for him. Now that you actually had met him properly you can tell the "rumors" about him being completely harmless were true. He only seemed to use his webs to make lace. How it wasn't sticky was a mystery to you though.

After trying for the first time, Ilyas tells you that you're a natural but that feels like an over-exaggeration. You decide to visit more often though because of his enthusiasm.

He encourages you to practice with small squares first before doing any complicated shapes, and to also experiment with different lace patterns.

When you try to practice on your own, you struggle with making the lace without the spider's help, and the strange tool they had to speed up the process. All you had was your needles, threads, and your inexperienced hands.

There were many times where you would miss a stitch and not notice until you had finished the square. It was frustrating but you would keep at it, trying to finish at least one square a day.

You stare at your most recent square. You didn’t miss a stitch this time so that was good, but you didn't really like the pattern the threads were forming.

You rest your head in your hand, absentmindedly tracing your scars as you study the intricate web-like lace.

The sleep schedule you had somewhat managed to fix at Abilene’s house had slowly drifted back to the way it was before. Along with the days becoming shorter, you felt like you spent a good chunk of the night wide awake. So even though it was pretty late, you weren’t tired at all.

You guess you could start another square with a new pattern but even with your lantern, making lace in the night was a strain on your eyes.

You pull the covers sitting around you on the ground over your shoulders and rest your head on the table.

I wonder if Bruno will show….

While you stare at the lace, you somehow manage to fall asleep. You're not sure how long, but you're woken up by a knock at the door.

Knowing it's Bruno, you quickly get up to answer.

He greets you with a smile. “Did you just wake up?”

“Yea, I didn’t even feel like going to bed at all so I don’t know how that happened."

“Too bad I woke you up then.” He pulls out 3 canisters. “I brought you nectar though.”

“I don't have any to trade though? I stayed in today."

"Don't you think we are past that point in our relationship? I’m just giving it to you as a friend."

"I guess you're right. I’m so used to trading...” you trail off and take the canisters.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"You just seem down."

You open one of the canisters to see what's inside and avoid Bruno's analyzing gaze.

"Honestly, I guess I do feel strange? I want to go back to sleep but I don’t really want to at the same time. Maybe I slept weird…"

"I know you probably don't want to hear this right now but maybe you should go out. It might make you feel better."

You shrug. Other than walking to Ilyas's and sometimes getting nectar close by, you spend most of your day inside. Maybe your body wasn’t used to being inside this much. Even during Winter you'd try to go out when you really shouldn't.

“Maybe you're right.”

"Do you want to go to the lake, obviously not near it of course."

Bruno seemed to be trying to tread carefully with you. It was appreciated but at the same time you want him to treat you like usual.

You huff out a laugh. “I know that, but sure let's go.”

You were already dressed in a sweater but invite Bruno in so you can go find a scarf.

While wrapping one around your neck you remember the moth's sweater and see no better time to give it to him.

You grab it off the chair you left it on and walk into the main room.

"Bruno, I finished your sweater!"

You hold the off white sweater out to the moth and he gently takes it from you.

"You finished it that fast?"

You nod.

The moth unfolds it and holds it out. You made it so it would be on the baggier side so he wouldn't feel constricted.

You watch as he turns it around and pulls it over his head. Once he puts his arms through the sleeves he pats down his hair.

You watch as he fiddles with the buttons on one of his sleeves until it comes off allowing his forearm to be free.

"Feels comfortable?"

He nods as he rebuttons the sleeve. "Yes, thank you! I don't even want to take off the sleeves either."

You grin, pleased that he likes it that much. "That's great! Honestly this looks quite good on you..."

"You think so?" The moth strikes a subtle pose.

"O-Obviously! Honestly I think you'd be able to pull anything off."

This gives you even more motivation to make that lacy top for him.

"Okay, let's go before I say anything else embarrassing," you say.

You both head outside, but you find yourself struggling to get off the ground. Apparently the temperature had dropped slightly too low.

"Do you need help?"

"No, no I got it."

You flap your wings a couple times hoping for the blood to finish circulating and with a little more struggling you're off the ground.

“Oh this sucks!”

You couldn’t help being jealous that Bruno could still fly so easily.

"You really don't need to push yourself."

“It's fine. I just needed to stretch out my wings. You do the vibrating thing to warm up and fly right?"

"Yeah."

"So lucky,” you say with a sigh.

"Have you ever tried doing it yourself? It'll get you in the air quicker."

"Hmmm…"

You momentarily stop flying. Clenching your fists, you tense your whole body and try to vibrate, but it’s literally impossible for you to reach the speed Bruno is capable of.

You notice Bruno is covering his mouth as he watches your sorry attempt.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"I’m sorry, the look on your face was cute."

You open your mouth but actual words struggle to come out.

"You--! Don't….Let’s just go already."

While the two of you make the flight to the lake, the moth insists on holding your hand 'just in case your wings give out'. Even though flying so close to someone can be a pain, his hand kept yours quite warm so you don't complain.

The lake feels so much different when you arrive. Without all the insects around, singing, dancing and playing, it felt somewhat lifeless. Even the lilies from before were shut.

“It’s so quiet…”

“Yea but it can be nice like this too. Sometimes I prefer it.

You both sit at the same place you did last time. Even though the rock's surface is cold, you already feel better. You had been nervous stepping out to places that weren’t busy, but with Bruno that nervousness was almost nonexistent.

You wish you had taken the time to come out more often like this with the moth, because once Winter came you wouldn’t be able to see him. You look over at Bruno. He seems lost in his own thoughts.

“Are you ready for Winter?”

He glances at you. “I suppose so…I won’t be able to visit you anymore though. It’s going to feel quieter.”

You hum in agreement. "Why does Winter have to exist? It's like Fall's terrible older sibling."

That gets a chuckle out of the moth. "That's the first time I've heard some describe the season like that."

"Well it is…"

"I guess you could say that."

Silence settles between the both of you but you move slightly in your spot from the restlessness you were beginning to feel. An idea had come into your mind and you were nervous to try it.

Holding your breath, you lean against the moth, but keep your eyes focused on the lake too afraid to make eye contact. If your time with him was going to be limited then maybe you should send even more hints.

A tense moment passes before you feel him shift against you. Your heart jumps when you feel a hand brush against your hip.

"Is this okay?" Bruno’s voice is low and it makes the action feel more intimate.

Don’t panic. This is a good thing!

“Y-Yes.”

You take a moment to calm down and continue speaking. “Is the sweater still comfortable?”

"Definitely. I think you’ll be happy to hear that I don't want to take it off.”

There was a weird sense of pride within you from getting the moth to willingly wear clothes.

"Then my work here is done. Well I'm going to make you more stuff though.”

You cross your arms and snuggle more into Bruno’s side when a particularly cool wind blows through. The moth's hold on you becomes more secure as he brings another arm to your side.

“Too cold?”

“Definitely underestimated it.”

As much as you wanted to stay in this position, you didn't want to stay out here any longer.

“Let’s go back,” you say.

Bruno gives your side a gentle squeeze before removing his arms. He helps you to your feet, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

With that you're ready to go. But when you try to take flight, you can’t, no matter how hard you try.

You look at Bruno unsure what to do.

"I can carry you, if that’s okay with you?”

You didn't exactly have another choice so you agree.

He places his arms on your back before he bends down to lift you behind your legs.

You immediately wrap your arms loosely around his neck as soon as he’s off the ground. This was the first time you had been in a situation like this before so you're kind of nervous.

The air passing by as he flys gives you chills. When you shove your face into the fur on his neck to protect your face, you feel him pull you just a little closer.

"You okay?"

"Cold!" The word comes out muffled. Your tolerance to the cold was almost nonexistent.

"Don't worry, it shouldn't be much longer."

You pull your face away just an inch to peak up at the moth “I'm not making you uncomfortable am I?”

"Of course not. We should actually do this more often."

“Flying together?” you ask confused.

"No. Me holding you."

That has you sputtering and you shove your face back in his fur.

Was that...flirting?

It couldn't be anything else but you still try to convince yourself otherwise.

You try to think of other things but just end up thinking about Winter again. Soon you wouldn't be able to spend time with him like this so casually. You wouldn't get to see him for a whole season!

You frown and your arms tighten around his neck.

When you reach back home you feel reluctant to let go of Bruno. Partially because he's so warm.

"____? We’re back.”

The moth lowers your feet to the ground so you can stand but you still hold on.

"____?"

You finally pull away and look at him.

"It’s--Don't you think It’s gonna suck not being able to see each other everyday?” Your voice wobbles. “I don’t want to wait that long...”

Your only option during Winter was to walk but you’d be dead before you even reached Bruno’s home.

It wasn't forever but if you ever messed Abilene she was a short walk away. Maybe you just weren't used to this.

“What if you forget about me?”

“You’re exaggerating. I wouldn't forget you that easily and Winter will pass before you know it.”

"You say that but you’re frowning! What...What if I stayed with you?"

Any shame you had in your body was dwindling away the longer you stayed up apparently.

"I mean...Isn't it weird that you’ve visited me so many times and I’ve never been over to your home once?"

Bruno seems surprised by your sudden suggestion but not displeased.

"I'm not against this but are you sure you’ll be comfortable staying there all Winter? You won’t be able to come back for some time."

You haven't been away from your home for that long ever, but you can’t think of any heavy cons to being away other than not getting to see Abilene.

You sigh, Winter really was cruel.

“...I’m actually already looking forward to it. The next time the temperature increases I'd better fly over there! Or you could just carry me if that doesn't happen soon enough.”

Bruno is unconvinced though. "You don't look completely sure."

"Because I don't want to be seperated from Abby for that long either..."

You look at the moth hoping for him to solve your predicament for you. "What should I do?"

"I have no problem taking you with me, even if it might upset Abilene, so I don't feel right making this decision for you."

You groan. It was definitely a commendable answer but it still left you with a tough decision. But after some pacing you come to a conclusion.

If you're struggling this hard to just stay at home then it would be best to go….Right? And Bruno wants you there too...

You nod to yourself. "I'm going. I don't want to regret staying here. Even if I have to say goodbye to Abby for some time."

"Okay. I know it's selfish of me but I was actually hoping you would still want to come."

At least someone here wasn't conflicted.

You immediately start mentally making a list of the stuff you need to take over. The biggest hill would be your necta.

“Um Bruno…”

After you explain the situation and show him how many jars you have stored up Bruno looks a bit perplexed, but you both accept that you'll have to just start moving things now. So that night Bruno takes bags of your jars home with him.

The next time you’re able to fly, you make sure to head over to Abilene's to tell them where you plan to spend the Winter.

You expect them to be disappointed, and they are, but they mostly end up teasing you.

"What if you guys are dating by the end of Winter?" they ask with a smirk.

You shake your head at the ridiculous statement, but was it really that improbable? A hopeful part of you said no. Bruno obviously didn’t mind being close to you so maybe...

Abilene touches your arm taking you out of your thoughts. “But seriously, I’m happy for you.”

“But will you be okay by yourself?"

They put their hands on their hips. "It will definitely be more quiet but I'll be okay."

You purse your lips but nod. You wish that the distance between here and Bruno’s home wasn’t so far.

"Do you have your stuff already packed?"

"Actually I kind of need your help, if that’s okay. I need to move a good chunk of my nectar over to his home and it’s a lot."

Abilene shrugs. “Yea, sure.”

"I’ll definitely make it up to you!"

"You don't need to make it up, I want you to get to spend time with your little boyfriend."

You almost deny it but know that you’d be reacting just how they want. “Whatever, let’s just go and start moving everything!"

You, Abilene, and Bruno spend the next several days making multiple trips between you and the moth’s homes. With the help of Abilene, the work doesn’t take as long and helps make up for the days you can't fly.

However with Winter getting closer and closer you decide to leave some of your stash behind. You would just have to be extra careful with how much you drink. Bruno reassures you that he has extra nectar just in case though.

You also make sure to bring all your sewing, knitting and lace equipment, AND all your blankets and pillows!

By the time you finish your last day of moving, it's already night and you and Abilene had said goodbye way before the sun set. You were already planning on making them an extra sweater for all their help. Or maybe a hat?

When you finally get to properly take in Brunos home you already feel at home. It was embedded in a tree stump. And the surrounding area had way more trees than your own home. You could tell sunlight struggled to get through even on the hottest of days.

The thing that amazes you the most is that the inside of his home is lit with multiple lanterns.

Bruno drops the last of your blankets on his bed. "Since you’re diurnal we can just switch out sleeping here--well until it gets too cold."

“Where are you going to stay then?” You had already been reluctant to take up his bedroom but he insisted. Not sleeping in a proper place would start to affect you negatively so it was probably for the best.

"There’s space in Narancia’s room."

You nod before yawning, today was a long day and you wanted to put everything away quickly so you could get into bed.

“You're still up?”

At first you think that Bruno’s talking to you but then you see he’s looking behind you. You turn and see a very young insect walk into the room from behind the wall at the entrance.

Your eyes widen slightly. You had expected to see a squishy baby caterpillar when you first met Narancia but what you see instead is a bumblebee already growing out of grub stage. He was a long way from growing out his wings though.

He wasn’t the same as Bruno?

Still you see the messy, random tufts of yellow and black fur on his small body and can't deny how adorable he is.

“I was but ____,” he says.

The youngling then runs towards you and stops in front of you shifting from foot to foot. You smile down at the energetic little bee.

“Hello, Narancia!” His energy was almost infectious.

“Hi! Papa talks 'bout you. A lot!” His small hands raise out and above him.

You grin at the slightly embarrassed look on the moth's face. He was doing his best to hide it though.

So this whole time I wasn’t the only one.

"Narancia--"

“What type of stuff does he say?”

Bruno deadpans at your interruption.

The bee tries to explain but part of it comes off unintelligible. You nod along though to the stuff you can understand like 'nice' and 'flowers'. You think you catch something about your wings too.

“Narancia, it’s bedtime,” Bruno says after his son seems to run out of words.

“Why? I’m not sleepy."

“I know, but we need to fix your sleep schedule.”

Looks like you weren’t the only one struggling to sleep at the “proper” times either.

The bee huffs. "I wanna stay here..."

Bruno holds out a hand to him, which Narancia pouts at but grabs.

“I’m going to go put Narancia back to bed and I’ll come back to help.”

“Goodnigh’,” Narancia says to you.

“Night. We can play later, okay?”

The bee nods obviously still not wanting to leave.

Once he and Narancia leave you use this chance to properly look around his room. Other than the bed and the small table next to it, there's a small dresser (where he probably kept some of the clothes he never wore) a floor length mirror, and a shelf.

This room was also lacking in lanterns compared to the others. You take notice of one of the lanterns sitting on the shelf in between some books and get the feeling the moth put them in here for you.

Other than that, the room was quite neat and the furniture looked elegant and costly. It was definitely a bedroom that said ‘Bruno Bucciarati’.

You decide that's enough investigating and go back to organizing, and soon after Bruno returns to help.

The both of you work, talking about small unimportant things but you finally ask what has been at the back of your mind since you saw Narancia.

“Um...why is Narancia living with you?”

A bee usually lives within a community of other bees of their type their whole lives--kind of like ants or wasps--so you were curious, but almost not surprised since Bruno seemed to have a penchant for gathering deviant insects.

“...I found him alone in a dead hive and I took him in.”

Bruno seemed reluctant to go into it and honestly you didn’t think it was your place to intrude, so you accept that answer with an “Oh”.

Bruno stops stacking jars in his closet to look at you. "I should have told you he was a bee sooner, yea?"

"Hmm, not really. Does it really matter?"

"...I guess you're right,” Bruno says but he doesn’t sound too sure.

Maybe some insects told him it was weird.

“Well it’s great that you found and took in Narancia. Nature isn’t exactly patient with larvae.”

The moth nods. “That’s true. The only problem is our different sleep schedules and the feeding. Well it was until you told me about how honey can be watered down."

“So you gave the honey I gave you to Narancia?”

“Well I might have eaten some too.” He smiles a bit. “But I got more ‘straight from the source’ so it’s fine. And Narancia doesn't go through the supply as quickly anymore now that it's better quality.”

You feel pleased that you had managed to help the moth, even if it was unintentional.

By the time you, Bruno, and Narancia--who wouldn’t stay in bed--finish finding spots to put all your jars, it’s well into the night.

You lay in Bruno’s bed under numerous covers and among all your pillows. It smelt faintly of flowers, ones you would usually smell on the moth. It’s almost like you're shoving your face into his fluffy fur.

For once you’re ready to go to sleep the moment you’re in bed. You shut all the other lanterns in the room but kept yours open. At this point, sleeping with it was necessary for you.

As you feel yourself drifting off, a knock on the door pulls you back.

“Come in…” you say through a yawn.

Bruno slowly opens the door and walks in.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Not this time but you tend to show up when I am.”

“Sorry, I’m not doing it on purpose I swear.” Bruno comes over to sit on the edge of the bed.

You smile at him feeling even more relaxed under your covers.

“It’s okay, seeing you is better than sleeping, “ you say through a yawn. “Thanks again for letting me say. I’m really happy I'll get to see you everyday.”

"Me too. I know I tried to act like the Winter would go by quickly but...I was actually dreading it.”

You feel relief and almost happy that Bruno felt the same way.

"Why'd you come?" you ask.

"I...I just wanted to see you."

The both of you stare at each other in the dim light for a moment, you mostly confused. Then for some reason Bruno leans over closer to you, but you don’t move away.

"Can I kiss you?"

Maybe you're too tired to overthink but you feel surprisingly calm. You don't trust your voice though so you nod instead.

When he closes the space and his lips press against yours you’re unsure if you’re dreaming or not.

You feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip and you think he'll deepen it, but his hand caresses your cheek and he pulls back.

You stare into his faintly glowing eyes as you struggle to speak. "Was...was that a goodnight kiss?"

Bruno’s finger traces your bottom lip. “Do you want it to be?”

"I um--Maybe it can be more?"

His stare feels so intense and you struggle to keep eye contact but you don't want to look away either.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), the moth presses a soft kiss to your cheek before standing up.

“Goodnight ____."

“N-Night Bruno.”

Even though your body feels warmer, you pull the covers close. The fatigue you had was practically whooshed away. So you stare wide-eyed at the lantern--the only thing keeping you company.

-----

A/N: I made art for narancia! anyways im gonna make the next 3 chapters as fluffy/domestic as i possibly can (the next updates might be a little slow tho, kind of stressed with real life stuff so please bear with me)

#bruno buccellati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno x reader #reader insert #jjba x reader #my writing

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jasmine-iroh · 4 years

Note

i have so many ideas in my head for fics LMAO and as u know i am obsessed w ur writing hehehe umm lets think can you do a sokka imagine where reader is Piandao’s apprentice as well so she spars with Sokka in his training and always wins, until he beats her one day from like being flirty and distracting her or something?? idk u can ignore this and just do any imagines u like LOL

Ahhhhh I love this idea so much!! Idk why but I have a headcanon that Piandao is lowkey like Batman and just trains abandoned kids and now he has like a tiny army of little white lotus warriors he’s informally adopted over the years.

This kid is weird.

That was the immediate impression (Y/N) got of Sokka when Master Piandao had introduced him as a new apprentice.

What the hell kind of name is Sokka, anyways?

That was her second thought. It was the kind of name that rolled off her tongue nicely when she was snapping at him to focus during their drills. The shape of it in her mouth made it easy to add a snarl to the front and a growl at the end when he was screwing around in front of Piandao, making them both look bad.

By the end of his first day training with (Y/N) under Piandao’s reserved tutliage, Sokka had been introduced to several intermediate forms. His heavy wooden practice sword had turned his arms to jelly long ago and there were various bruises and scrapes from (Y/N) sneaking past his defenses, but Sokka didn’t mind the aches.

She’s amazing.

That was Sokka’s first impression of (Y/N) as he watched her demonstrate the basic forms he was supposed to learn. He wasn’t focusing on the forms, but rather the warrior waltzing her way through them.

(Y/N) seemed to merge with her abilities. She moved with the ease of someone who spent her time befriending her skills, pouring her soul into singing metal and brutal dance numbers. Her blade was her master as much as Piandao was. She wielded her sentences as tactfully as her steel, every word intentional and aimed to cut to the heart of a matter.

Sokka would wager his last copper piece that her and Suki would get along quite well if they ever met.

He’s good.

That was (Y/N)’s third thought as she watched Sokka breeze through his basic drills.

A tiny part of her sung with pride when Master informed her that she was excelling in her duty of shaping Sokka into a proper swordsman. Sokka was her first real trainee during her time with Piandao. She’d studied under him from the age of six, when she’d turned up on his doorstep after being left behind in the middle of the night by her nomadic family.

She’d seen many hopeful young men turn up on that same doorstep, opening her sanctuary to their arrogant swaggers and second rate weaponry. They had all given her the same look when she guided them through Piandao’s home; a look that held the intrigue of having a girl around to preen for, not knowing that she was the judge, jury, and executioner of their fate.

Piandao might’ve been the one to teach the boys to fight, but (Y/N) was the one to make them honor the battle. They all came boasting to the Master about their accomplishments in their backwater town, lauding their own praises and embellishing their military bloodlines. Most left cursing the girl with forged steel for a personality and the word no sharpened like a blade.

Not Sokka, though.

(Y/N) supposed that maybe that’s what first warmed her up to him, the fact that he’d seen the sword on her belt first and her gender second. His quick wit and ability to bounce back after a defeat didn’t hurt, either.

Sokka’s knuckles were still red and actively bruising from their previous match when Piandao informed the pair that the next would be their last for the day. The compound was bathed in the golden promise of a sunset to come and (Y/N) found herself getting distracted by the way the light pressed gentle kisses to Sokka’s cheeks. The breeze played with his unraveling topknot like a teasing lover, taunting (Y/N) with the idea of what he’d look like with his hair down.

Before her thoughts could settle on the fight in front of her and not the boy, Sokka was making the first move. He went for the obvious strike, even though he should’ve learned by that point that (Y/N) would parry the blow.

Swinging her sword up to block him with ease, (Y/N) found herself shocked by their close proximity, puzzled that Sokka had thrown his first move to get close to her. A coy smirk was crawling along Sokka’s face as he gifted the young warrior with a flirtatious wink, causing her to narrow her own eyes back at him. It seemed that Sokka had seen her distraction and chose to wield his looks as his weapon of choice for this round.

“You can’t fluster me into losing, Sokka,” (Y/N) huffed, a mild bout of surprise bubbling as she realized that she was actually having to try to keep Sokka from getting the upper hand in their fight.

“That doesn’t seem fair, you’ve been flustering me all day.” He replied with a disarming grin, putting her on the defense with a quick, if somewhat unpracticed, set of attacks.

“Cut it out.” She growled, hoping the dark flush on her cheeks could be written off as exertion and not a real blush. Those oceanic eyes stared a hole into (Y/N), the flickering of his pupils to the side being the only consistent indication of his next move.

He was still too close for (Y/N) to ready a true offense, so she blocked and parried his attacks, his ever increasing proximity forcing her a step back with each move. She was trying to distance herself for an attack when the stone wall of the practice arena hit her back, shocking the wind out of her and allowing Sokka to land what would have been a fatal strike in a real fight. Their eyes were still locked as their chests heaved from the effort of the fight, bewildered (Y/E/C) eyes meeting a cunning blue gaze.

“Resourceful use of terrain, Sokka. (Y/N), don’t allow yourself to be crowded by a larger opponent. Use your agility, not your size.” Piandao advised, snapping the pair out of their staring contest. Sokka was still looming over (Y/N), but she wasn’t looking at him, instead forcing herself away from the wall to disappear into the bamboo thicket. She was being melodramatic, she knew, but she was ashamed that she’d let a stupidly charming boy make her look like a fool in front of her Master. The blow to her pride was blistering, raising all of her long buried insecurities to the surface.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sokka’s voice called from the bamboo to (Y/N)’s right. To hear that much concern in the voice of a boy who barely knew her showed his true character, but (Y/N) wished he would reveal an arrogant side. Something, anything, to throw her heart off the scent of a crush.

“Why would you do that?” She snarled, trying to cover the turmoil in her mind with misplaced anger.

“Do what?” His disembodied voice was confused, the rustling of bamboo revealing his position to (Y/N).

“Embarrass me like that in front of everyone! Do you know how hard it is to be taken seriously as a girl doing this?” (Y/N) ranted, her glare already fixed to the spot where Sokka popped out of the foliage into her line of view.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I just... I thought we had something going on there for a minute, y’know? You’re the best fighter I’ve ever met, being a girl doesn’t change that.” He told her honestly. He took a tentative step closer, approaching her like he would a scared cat.

“That trick won’t work a second time.” (Y/N) snapped, her eyes spitting fire at him. Once again, she found herself on the defensive with this boy, every careful step he took towards her sending her a step back until her back pressed against a clutter of bamboo.

“Trick? (Y/N), there is no trick. It’s called liking someone, and hoping they like you back.” Sokka exclaimed, frustration trickling into his tone. He wanted to be patient and give her room to puzzle out his intentions, but she was too busy protecting her emotions to see his truth.

A long pause, before, “he’ll replace me if he thinks I’m easily distracted.” It was said so quietly, in such a hopeless voice, that Sokka wouldn’t recognize it as (Y/N) speaking if he wasn’t watching her lips form the words.

“He’s a fool, then. He won’t find another (Y/N).” Sokka told her boldly, feeling wild and fierce in their bamboo haven with her baring her deepest emotions to him.

“Please stop saying nice things. It makes it really hard to be mad.” (Y/N) whispered in that same careful voice, her tone cooling as she folded in on herself. She couldn’t believe she’d shown her soul to a boy she’d known for two days.

“Then don’t be mad, be honest. Do you find me as distracting as I find you?” Sokka matched her tone, speaking quietly as he tried to coax her back out of her shell.

“No. Yes? I don’t know. I’ve never even liked any of the apprentices before you.” She huffed, tilting her head back to groan at the sky in confusion.

“Stop over thinking it. Do I distract you? Yes or no?” Sokka pressed, taking (Y/N)’s battle calloused hands in his own and tugging her attention back to those oceanic eyes.

“Yes.” Her tone was confident, her rough thumbs tracing delicate shapes over Sokka’s bruised knuckles as she accepted his rough palms in her own.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one, then, or this would’ve been awkward.” He admitted, a warm blush crawling up his neck.

“It already was,” (Y/N) giggled quietly, releasing the tension between them. They stood grinning at each other like fools, both trying to stretch this soft, peaceful moment into a lifetime. Sokka leaned down closer to (Y/N) slowly, his eyes flickering between her own and her lips as he gave her the chance to stop him.

Instead of bolting like he half expected her to, she leaned up and pressed a firm kiss to his lips, pulling him closer. The action threw him off balance and sent the pair tumbling through the bamboo, Sokka landing on top of (Y/N) with a squawk of indignation.

The serene atmosphere broken, they stared into each other’s eyes for a shocked moment before bursting into laughter and settling for holding each other close like a cherished possession.

#this got a little long and put of hand IM SORRY #I JUST LOVE MY SWEET BOOMERANG BOY #also this took me forever work has been HORRIBLE lately but i loved this idea and it was so fun to write #sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka imagine #atla imagine #sokka fanfic #atla fanfic #atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #sokka

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onlyplatonicirl · 4 years

Text

Birfday Gorl UwU

@shandycandy278

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“A little to the left.”

“Like this?”

“A bit more.”

“Uh… here?”

“Slime does that look even a little bit symmetrical to you?”

“You’re literally impossible right now,” said Slime, tacking the banner in place regardless of Lorel’s immediate shrieking complaint. “Since when have you become so nit-picky about decoration placement and stuff? Your room looks like an atomic bomb went off in it.”

“Well good thing it’s not my room!” Lorel replied, clapping her hands together in agitation. She rocked on her heals at a very brisk pace, her eyes darting around the room. “Listen, at least just TRY to set this up right?? Also maybe stand on a chair instead of Andrew’s shoulders because if you fall it will not only kill you but them too.”

Andrew blinked at Lorel like she was stupid, their hands on Slime’s legs as the redhead wobbled to tack everything to the wooden banister, tongue sticking out in concentration. Slime exclaimed triumphantly once they successfully had it in place, throwing their hands back in glee. Unfortunately, that also offset their center of gravity.

Lorel turned her back as both of them shrieked and collapsed to the floor, already tuning out their incessant squabbling. The decorations were all set, for the most part. Light blue balloons were floating around the room, with the tablecloth, streamers, banners and confetti to match. The confetti was assumed to be blue, but they didn’t know for sure because it was compressed into cardboard cones, and planned to pop out when the guest of honor arrived. Various other creators scurried to and fro, adding to the ever-growing gift pile, setting up the potluck and adding a multitude of dishes, as well as making small talk amongst themselves before the event started. Lorel recognized the majority of them, and waved to a few of them as she made her way into the main kitchen, ducking under a tray carried by Nobody, with tons of little confectionaries.

But before she could get there, she ran into-

“Chai! How’s everything going?”

Chai laughed in return, giving Lorel a hug. “It’s going great. I’m so excited.”

“SAME,” Lorel said, accompanied with a slouch. “I’ve ben planning this for so long, especially these things.”

She stuck a thumb behind her, motioning to the massive yellow feathered wings that started at her shoulder blades and draped all the way to the floor, the gradient becoming lighter towards the end feathers. Chai raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I was going to comment on that,” she began. “Those don’t look like your usual, uh… pointy wings.”

“That’s because they aren’t,” Lorel said, running a hand through her hair to clear her eyes. “It took me two full months of studying anatomy and transmogrification with every book on the subject in the entirety of the Council’s Library to get these to form. The number of times I attempted to summon these properly only to result in an explosion of feathers is unreal. Synthia and the others got really tired coming back to find our quarters covered in yellow fluff.”

“Well I like them, they’re soft. But, why exactly???”

Lorel smiled softly. “I don’t know, I just thought it would be kind of sweet because… She always gives the fluffiest and softest hugs. I thought it would be nice if I was able to return the favor for once, to show her how great her trademarked “Floofy Hugs” are. Give her a taste of her own wonderful medicine, haha!”

Chai laughed. “Well, I’D like a floofy hug from you.”

“Once I even figure out how to get these things to fold and move properly? Sure. You can get floofy hugs too,” Lorel replied, smiling. “But we all know that I’m not as good at it.”

“HEY WHY ARE THOSE WINGS SO DISPROPORTIONATELY LARGE?” Someone across the room screamed. Without missing a beat, Lorel whipped around, almost smacking Chai in the face with the limbs she did not quite have the hang of yet.

“I DON’T KNOW, WHY IS YOUR BRAIN SO DISPROPORTIONATELY SMALL, LO??”

“HOW BAD CAN IT BE, LOREL?”

“IT’LL GET PRETTY BAD PRETTY QUICK IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE.”

Chai was busy trying not to laugh herself into combustion, a hand over her mouth. Lorel looked at her, exasperated. “Excuse me for one moment. I need to go check up on the cake. If I stand still for long enough Lo starts trying to play paper-wad basketball with my halos.”

She and Chai gave each other a quick hug, before parting ways with “I love you!!!”’s on both sides.

Peeping her head in through the kitchen doorway, Lorel narrowly avoided a massive jawbreaker being flung across the room. Ly had been in charge of the cake, and it seemed to be going well. The ponkey girl was having a blast, a tube of icing in each hand, and letting out her more wild artistic side. Her tail curled happily in the air as she drew gravity defying shapes around the cake out of vanilla frosting. Lorel smiled and left. At least that was taken care of. But there was still a lot of other things to do. There were two many bodies in too small of a room. It was chaos, and she had signed up to oversee it all.

Lorel sighed. Why did she ever agree to running anything? The only mature thing about her was her physical age. Time to be the adult, I guess.

Climbing up a few steps to gain a slight leverage and trying not to trip over her new way-too-large wings, she clapped her hands to quell the silence. She soon had the attention of the room.

“OKAY,” she began. “HERE’S HOW THIS IS GONNA GO BEFORE MY WIFE ARRIVES—”

A single, large breath in.

“Lyn and Lynn, take watch outside for her. Blossom, make sure everyone’s got a party hat, and help Shadow and Template with the paintings if they need any. Lucky and Achro keep the streets secure, we don’t want any blockheads ruining our big day. Dey, Launch, Template, Poggers, Lily, both Alexes, Rawlyx and Zen are on exterior decoration duty. I want every corner of the roof tied with decorations. Ly’s finishing the cake, and she’ll need a handful of people to aid her in setting everything up. Smartie can attend to that, as well as Diamond. Slime and Andrew, I know I’m asking the impossible, but your job is to not be stupid for like - at least 2 minutes. AT LEAST. Everyone else find a good hiding spot and no shoving or pushing or summoning ancient celestial daggers or transforming into a five headed demons. Or you’re getting kicked out of the party. Scrub, be my monitor, would you? And Otter’s job is to keep being absolutely adorable and precious. Are we all clear?”

The whole building cheered, and Lorel finally sighed. Right next to her was Otter, who she promptly scooped up in her arms and kissed on the forehead with a very loud “mwah” to follow. Otter happily closed their eyes – a pseudo-smile.

“OKAY THEN. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ALL STILL STANDING AROUND FOR??? LET’S MOVE IT, LOSERS! GO GO GO GO GO!”

Everyone quickly bustled about, and Lorel set Otter back on the floor once again. Creators of every shape and size scrambled about, trying to find places to hide, and all the lights were shut off when the two Lyn(n)s gave the cue

“She’s coming she’s coming!”

The house went completely silent, save for the sound of footsteps approaching the door.

The handle turned-

And all the light’s clicked on. Everyone jumped up from behind the couch, and light blue confetti flew everywhere as everyone screamed in unison.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHANDY!!!!!!!!!”

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

HAPPY BIRTH SHANDYYYYYYYY ILSYM SORRY I DIDNT FINISH THIS YESTERDAY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

IM GONNA TAG THE MAIN PPL IN THIS FIC BC IM A LITTLE BIT PRESSED FOR TIME RN AND I DONT HAVE TIME TO TAG EVERYONE BUT ILL LINK IT SO AAAAAAA

Mainly Featuring:

@andrewture @156lemongummies @greetings-and-yeetings @chais-chaos-corner @puuuddiing @lookyeekiti

AS WELL AS THE AMAZING @shandycandy278 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ILYSMMM

This fic takes place in @creatorverse

#creatorverse #creatorverse fanfiction #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #IDK WHAT ELSE TO TAG #HAPPY BIRTH #OKAY I GOTTA GO IM SUPER PRESSED FOR TIME FJDSAKFJDKLAF #FLOOFY HUGS YOU BACK

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itsallabigmess · 4 years

Text

Crescente | Part Two

Slow burn Friends to Lovers AU A bit of angst, a bit of flirt, lots of cliches.

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

Through the taxi window, you watch lazily as the bright lights and busy streets morph into a long road lined on both sides with palm trees, their tops waving slightly with the breeze. You slept for most of the 6-hour flight and is still finding it hard to beat your half-sleep state.

The cab makes a turn and comes to a stop in front of the main building of the resort. The cold breeze hits you as soon as you climb out of the vehicle and you close your eyes, smiling to yourself when you sense the smell saltwater. Somewhere in the distant darkness, you could hear the waves crashing.

Jinyoung touches your arm and nods towards the entrance, where you can see a valet attendant already taking both your and your friend’s bags. You are greeted as soon as you step inside, by a little woman with a broad smile. How could anyone sound so enthusiastic at such an early hour would be forever a mystery to you. Jinyoung hands her both your passports – you don’t even remember when he got a hold of yours – and you watch as she enters your information into the system.

Still smiling, she slides a navy-blue folder with the resort’s name stamped in gold. Her lips are moving but you can barely make out what she is saying. There was something about congratulations to the couple and a list of things you were allowed during your stay. Whatever it was, you were certain it could all acknowledge once the sun was up. For the moment, you only cared to know the directions to your bed.

You manage to smile warmly, thanking the receptionist when she hands Jinyoung the key-card to your room. Your gaze swims through Jinyoung’s features as he adjusts the strap of his backpack over his shoulder and grabs the folder. You were not so confident that you wouldn’t be left completely alone with your own thoughts during this trip until the moment Jinyoung met you at the boarding gate. The previous days you had barely exchanged any words. You were still not sure why he decided to come along but had decided you would spend the following days making sure he knew how grateful you were to him.

---

“Holy shit!” you say, dropping your backpack by your side on the ground once you crossed the door. You were not expecting the villa you were going to stay to be so opulent. But then again, why wouldn’t it be, considering you were staying in a luxury resort. “This is bigger than my place.”

“As if it was hard to be,” Jinyoung snorted, leading the way inside.

You rolled your eyes and ignore the tease and the fact that Jinyoung seemed utterly unimpressed. You stepped slowly towards the absurdly spacious living room, eyes traveling from side to side. There are just many details your tired eyes don’t seem able to process. You’ve been up since 5 of the previous morning, going from your 9-hour job directly to the airport. The time you passed out during the flight was not enough to restore your energy and you were certain you would pass-out at any second.

Grabbing your backpack, you follow the way Jinyoung had made upstairs. You wonder if that was how the rich lived. If they would be just as speechless by the size of the room as you were. Your eyes fixed on the gigantic bed, well made and ready to devour your tired body.

And then… the engines of your brain start to work properly.

“Ahm… Jinyoung?”

He appears at the other door across the room, where you assume is the bathroom. You don’t need to speak for him to understand the worry growing on your eyes. “Were you really expecting something else?”

You look up at your unbothered friend. Of course, that was supposed to be a trip for a couple. Somehow, the fact that the place would have only one bed skipped your mind. You didn’t mind sharing it. But did he?

“Don’t worry, I can sleep on the couch,” Jinyoung suggests, nodding towards the padded furniture under the room’s large windows. It does look comfortable enough for a person to sleep at, for sure. But still, it wasn’t fair. Especially considering how long you were going to stay there.

You shake your head slowly “No, that’s okay. We can share.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, that bed is obviously too big for just me,” you yawn, kicking off your shoes. “Do you mind if I shower first?”

“Go ahead.”

---

You hear Jinyoung’s light snores before you even open your eyes. You fell asleep as soon as you got to bed and wasn’t sure if Jinyoung would actually take the empty spot on your side. Lifting your body, you rub your eyes and stare at the couch on the opposite side of the bed. You could only imagine the hell of a neck pain Jinyoung would feel during the whole trip if he had decided to be a gentleman and let the bed all to yourself.

You get up, making sure to stay as silent as possible as you grabbed your necessaire to the bathroom. Now, well-rested and aware of every detail, you decided that the bathroom alone was the size of your living room and kitchen combined. You loved your apartment but only now realized how small it really was. You really could not complain when your friends teased you about it anymore.

With your hair fixed into a ponytail and teeth brushed, your walk towards the marble bathtub, Spying through the window, you let out a silent curse and runs downstairs.

Air catches on your throat after you open the double window door. Yes, there’s a private pool. That was fascinating on its own but what shocked you was the only thing that separated you from the sea was a small wooden ramp and a few feet of white sand. The villa wasn’t close to the beachside. It was on the beach.

“Is everything okay?” Jinyoung appears a minute later, voice hoarse and hair a complete mess, hiding his eyes from the brightness of the day.

“I’m in heaven!” You stretch your arms as if saying aren’t you seeing this?!

A growl. That’s all you get out of him before he goes back inside. Maybe he would feel better after you found some food to put inside his body. You need Jinyoung to be on the same level of excitement that you are.

Turns out you could eat all the food you want for free at the main restaurant of the resort. It sounded like the recipe for bad food until Jinyoung points out that every item of the menu has a price on its side, and you eating for free was part of the vacation package.

Relishing the plate of waffles and fresh fruit that you made for yourself, you reach for your shorts back pocket and grab the folded list of activities the resort offered. “How do you feel about snorkeling?”

Jinyoung gives a shrug, eyes on his own plate. “I’m not completely opposed to it.”

On the week before the trip you two agreed to not tell any of your friends about you traveling together. Neither you nor Jinyoung were in the mood to deal with all the teasing and inquiries that would come from your friends. Not to mention the frustrating whining from your girlfriends because ‘how dare you to invite Jinyoung instead of any of them’. Girl drama was completely off the limits for you for the next ten days.

The bad part of it was that, by avoiding your friends, you could not ask Jackson the circumstances of Jinyoung’s break up. Over the years you witnessed Jinyoung go through some things that really put him down. His reaction was always different, but you never saw him in the shape he is. It isn’t sadness, at least not completely. No, this is apathy. And you don’t know how to deal with that version of him.

“Here says we can get a boat to one of the nearby islands and snorkel close to the reefs,” you tap at the folder in front of you, hoping Jinyoung would accept your suggestion.

“We have to schedule it with the front desk before,” he says in a monotonous tone.

The normal Jinyoung would make fun of you for not finding it obvious. The normal Jinyoung would probably complain about you not listening to what the woman in the front desk said on the night before. But this Jinyoung only shrugs and fills his mouth with a giant bite of eggs and bacon.

“We can do something else too,” you tell him.

“Let’s check with the front desk first,” Jinyoung stares at you, his lips forming a straight line. Maybe he was trying to smile, but it couldn’t be more forced. It was enough for now.

---

Entering your information on her computer, Kaila, another overly excited receptionist informs that yes, all activities should be scheduled at least an hour before, but since you are still far from the high season, you don’t need to worry about it that much. She suggests a half-day at the blue lagoon, a favorite spot for anyone who visits the place. Since Jinyoung doesn’t oppose – or say anything for that matter – you ask Kaila to sign you two for to the boat ride.

“All setup,” Kaila smiles half a minute later. “The van will departure at ten.”

You thank her and rush back to the villa. There’s just enough time to spray some sunscreen on your body and change into one of your swimsuits.

There are already music playing, coming from the boat when you arrive at the harbor. The tour guide greats your small group one by one, telling everybody to find a sit. He passes the itinerary for the six hours you will be spending together, safety instructions, and all. You feel the movement of waves below and while everyone gets distracted with the drinks being served, you become fascinated with the contrasts of blue in the sky.

“We sure don’t have this shade of blue back home,” you sigh, chin resting on an arm over the railing. You wait for an answer. Jinyoung is staring in the same direction as you, or so you think, his eyes hidden by dark shades. You know he must be impressed. Jinyoung was always good at appreciating views like that. And still… “Come on, Jinyoung,” you push his shoulder not so lightly. “You have to admit this place is amazing.”

“It is,” he says flatly, a hand moving to the back of his neck, wiping a bit of sweat. “And it sure is warm.”

After going back home you would call Jinyoung’s ex-girlfriend. You are sure you still have her number saved. You liked her though. Even if you never got incredibly close to each other, you always enjoyed her presence when you spend time together. But she broke your friend’s heart. And that you could not let pass. But for now…

For now, you decide to enjoy your vacation. It’s just like Jackson said: Jinyoung likes to go deep into his own sadness before deciding he was over it. And until that happened, there was really nothing you could do to help him. Even because Jinyoung was not giving you an opportunity to do so.

Sighing, you remove your shirt and shorts, tucking it inside the small bag you brought with you and hiding it under the seat. You decide to join a couple of girls that are sunbathing in the deck. You have no interest in socializing, but you also don’t want to spend the entire morning sitting on the shadows, letting Jinyoung down mood intoxicate you.

And yes, you do feel a bit guilty for it, but you let that feeling steam away with the heat.

Once the boat stops at the island, the tour guide gathers the group and lists the options: explore the island, snorkel around the coral garden or join him and a local to a separate area of the island, where you could swim with stingrays.

“Staying in the boat is an option,” he says, “for those who want to continue to drink or swim nearby. Lunch will be served on the island at one. You can see the tables from here,” he points towards the island, a few benches and tables disposed of in front of what appeared a small green house. “Please keep in mind to be back at the boat by four. Now, let’s have some fun!”

As people start to scatter and jump on the water, you see Jinyoung standing in the back, hands shoved inside the pockets of his blue shorts. You catch a mask and diving shoes with the guide before joining your friend.

“Are you going to stay here?” you ask, handing him the mask so you can slip your feet inside the shoes that were a bit small for you.

“For now.”

“Well,” you take the mask of Jinyoung’s hands to wear, its oval shape covering only your eyes. “Tell me I look stupid.”

“You look stupid.”

“Great!” you show him your teeth in an exaggerated smile, emphasizing it by giving a double thumbs-up. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

The water is cold, but you soon get used to it. You swim away from everyone, towards the coral garden. It’s your first time snorkeling and you are doing a poor job at it, often coming up for some air. You don’t care. Just like the fish that swim around you, not caring for your presence. Underwater, you let yourself be consumed by the colors, the silence, the feeling that nothing else matters. And when you feel tired of swimming around, you take off your mask and just stay there, floating. The little waves making your heart calm.

That was already the best day you had in a long time.

On the island, you go stray to where the lunch would be served. It was still early for food but you sure could use a soft drink to wash away the salty taste the ocean left on your mouth.

The diving shoes do a great job of protecting your feet from the hot sand. But as you walk where water could only reach your ankles, you did not wait to get rid of it. And how pleasant it felt when you did.

Small waves of turquoise water refreshed your skin as you try to hide your feet under the sand. You used to do just that when you were a little child, on the few occasions you went to the beach with your parents. And even though there were no children around now you sure felt giggly like one.

“What are you doing?” you hear Jinyoung’s voice coming somewhere from behind you.

Holding the shoes with one hand and the mask with the other, he caught you in a silly moment of kicking the water to your front, watching the drops of water fall down, and then doing it again. Turning around, you do the same thing on Jinyoung’s direction, wetting his white shirt.

“Please don’t do that,” he says stepping back, looking down the little trail of salty water that went from his right shoulder until the opposite side of his shorts.

You frown in disappointment. Did he really stay all this time only on the boat? “You are no fun, Park.” You do another spin in the water, the sand tickling your feet. “Why do you still have your shirt on?” you ask, pointing at him with your shoes.

“I’m fine like this,” he says simply. “They are starting to serve lunch.”

The barbecue served tastes as amazing as it looked. Somehow, it reminds you of the Korean barbecue, you so much love. Except there are no side dishes there apart from some green salad and rice. You glance at Jinyoung and decides to keep that comment to yourself, certain he would find the comparison offensive.

So, you eat silently, trying not to pay attention to all the talking happening around you. You allow yourself a fruity cocktail, dipping the slices of the fruit salad that was served as dessert on your cup before biting it. When all is finished, cheeks feeling all warm with the combination of sun and alcohol, you get up unceremoniously and make your way back to where the ocean awaits for you.

Walking along the shore, you find sit under the shades, a perfect spot where you can you’re your back against the tree trunk, and still feel the water soaking your feet. In this heaven, you could fall sleep in a second, and you smile to yourself considering the possibility.

“You shouldn’t just wander around by yourself, you know.”

You don’t open your eyes as you feel Jinyoung sitting on your left. “It’s a small island, Jinyoung. The chances of me getting lost are nonexistent.”

Of course, Jinyoung doesn’t respond. Still, you sigh in frustration. If the rest of the trip was deemed to be like that maybe you should become as monosyllabic as he has been.

You open one eye to look at him. His eyes are still hidden between glasses, but you know he is looking at the horizon. “There’s a bit of sand here…” you reach for the grains on his jaw, right below his ear, cleaning it with the tip of your fingers... You never felt uncomfortable being silent around Jinyoung and still, you really wish you could translate whatever was going on inside of him and find a way to make him happy.

“I think I’m going in the water again,” you say simply, trying to figure out how to put your diving shoes on again now that your feet are covered with sand. “You should go for a dip, you know,” you suggest as casually and unbothered as you could. “It’s not every day that we have a chance to be in a place like this.”

How long has it been since you allowed yourself to not think about anything and just… be? You couldn’t remember. So, you just swim and float and dive until, somehow, you notice people going back to the boat. You were not surprised to find Jinyoung on the exact same spot where you both sat earlier.

The boat is already moving back to the marine when you get out of the little bathroom, glad to have brought a piece of underwear with you. You manage to get most of you dry but somehow, there was still sand scattered over your body.

Jinyoung leans forward, his head almost going in between his legs. He stays like that for a few minutes, breathing heavily.

“Are you okay?” you ask, rubbing his back lightly.

“Not really,” he says, moving quickly to place his head outside the boat. He doesn’t throw up, but his breath is unsteady. When you finally get to see his face, you notice how pale he looks.

You rush to find a bottle of freshwater. Jinyoung drinks half of it quickly and uses the rest to clean his face and neck. You think it’s the first time you see him without his sunglasses since you two went for breakfast.

“Do you want to lay down? There is enough space.”

He shakes his head, leaning back against the railing. The way he is breathing only makes you wish the trip back would not take too long.

---

You are about to start a second movie on Netflix when your stomach starts to grumble. Jinyoung recovered his color once you arrived back at the villa. But still feeling nauseated and with a massive migraine, he took his time in the bathroom and then fell into a deep slumber.

After cleaning yourself you decide to stay around, just in case Jinyoung needed something. It was just your first day on the trip and there were a lot more that you could do the next day. You took a little nap at the couch in the living room, spent some time scrolling through Instagram and then checked something off your watch list.

But now, you are in desperate need of food.

At the front desk, Lisa, the same tiny receptionist that greeted you on the previous night, reminds you that you don’t need to leave to resort to enjoy a good meal. And even though the bayside restaurant is full for the night, she can get you a table with a great view at the terrace restaurant.

The view is, in fact, amazing. From your table, you can see how the moon reflects in the ocean, the top of palm trees forming a perfect frame.

You order the Homemade Gnocchi that your waiter suggests, along with whatever wine he says go well with it. And while melting in your chair with the flavors dancing on your mouth, you consider ordering the same thing for Jinyoung before going back to the villa. You left him a note after giving up on trying to wake him for a couple of minutes. The man was beyond passed out.

Which was why you were a bit shocked when he sat in front of you, just as your waiter removed your empty plate.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Front desk.”

You stare at him for a long second. His eyes are still puffy, and it looks like the salty air is already messing with his hair. Sure, he still has this aura of ‘I wish I was still in bed’. But besides that, he looks better than he was earlier.

“You could have asked for room service, you know,” his words come out lazily, fingers tapping over the table.

“I rather limit the time I spend in the room to the hours I’ll be sleeping,” you don’t intend to sound annoyed. But you do. And you feel guilty because you want to blame it on him, but you don’t feel like you can. So, you just sigh and lean back on your chair. “But you could have asked it for yourself. Room service, I mean.”

“You wrote you would bring me something.”

“You could have texted me not to.”

“And where is your phone, exactly?”

“Oh…” After failing in waking Jinyoung, you tried to be as quiet as you could, leaving the villa so fast that just now you realized you have forgotten your phone charging close to the bathroom sink.

Silence settles between you two, being broken only when the waiter brings the desert you had asked for. Jinyoung orders a simple salad, and you decide to focus on a delicious sugary bowl placed in front of you. “If I had gone to dinner anywhere outside the resort, would you still have come after me?” you ask minutes later.

Jinyoung’s eyes travel from you to the view over the balcony, letting out another annoyed sigh. If your dessert wasn’t so good, you would feel compelled to throw the empty bowl in his head, just to get some sort of reaction. Anything. Instead, you call for the waiter and ask for another glass of wine.

He could have said no. When you knocked at his door, you expected him to say no. You had already given up on the idea of coming to this trip when he agreed to come with you. You guessed it was because he saw this the same way that you did: an opportunity to get over your broken hearts. Well, his broken heart. For you, it was more of ‘compensation for all the time you lost with the asshole you used to call your boyfriend’.

And yes, you understand how Jinyoung is feeling. Breakups aren’t the easiest thing in the world. Even if it was him the ended things – which you don’t believe is the case. Still, you can’t avoid being mad at him. Does he believe that he owns your company because you invited him? You do want to enjoy this trip with your friend but if he decided to stay in bed all day every day, it was more than fine. He just needed to tell you so, instead of looking at you like you forced him to be there with you.

Was that it? You did tell him that you only asked him to go with you and would not ask anyone else. So, were you to blame?

There it was, the feeling of guilt once again. Maybe it was your fault. Jinyoung was not ready to socialize, and maybe you put him in a situation he felt he needed to agree with.

You obviously need to talk to him but decides to do so in the next morning. Because even if you are mad at yourself, you still are mad at him. You and Jinyoung are good friends. You have always been good friends. He could have just told you those things instead of acting like you were someone he was forced to interact with.

Overthinking all the way from the restaurant to the villa, and then a bit more while doing your nightly routine, you lay in one of the pool loungers and finally begin to relax. You close your eyes and focus on the sound of the waves in the distance, the wind kindly touching your skin. But you are sure is the glasses of wine that you drank that leads you straight to slumber.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

Your eyes hardly opened to see Jinyoung standing on your side. You just grumble and turn to your side, giving him your back.

“It’ late,” he says, voice sounding closer. “Go to bed.”

“I’m good here.”

“Y/N, you are cold,” you feel a warm touch on your naked arm.

“We can try changing the villa tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Hm… This villa for two simple bedrooms,” you curl yourself, your hands going in between your knees.

“What are you talking about?”

You open your eyes again and see Jinyoung kneeling in front of you. “So you won’t have to deal with me.”

It’s silent again and you are already falling back to sleep when you feel his hands on you again, pulling your arms up, and then his own arms going behind your legs and back, lifting you up.

“Jinyoung,” you growl in discontent.

“I’m not letting you sleep in the cold,” his voice sound muffled, the side of your head pressed against his chest as he carries you up the stairs.

You are just too sleepy to object.

#jinyoung #park jinyoung #got7 #got7 jinyoung #got7 scenarios #got7 fanfic #Jinyoung scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction

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