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its-jaytothemee · 5 months

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Until I Met You - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: With Friends Like These

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 5,136

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

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Summary: The guys and gals split up for the day. While the ladies take care of the duergar problem, the guys have some bonding time around the fire. And there may just be an exciting new addition to their camp. Part 13 of the slow burn fic. Halsin and Tav POVs.

Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries.

A/N: Girls night vs. guys night. More campfire fluff before moving on to more Tav'ahria backstory in the next chapter!! I hope you're all feeling the burn like I am. Thanks for all the kind comments so far! They really do keep me motivated to continue writing <3

See also: Gale and Halsin are massive nerds

Tav and her companions had spent days exploring the Underdark. The winding pathways and lack of light made it difficult to navigate and map out.

Between the deadly arcane tower they explored and the Kua-Toa ritual they stumbled upon, not to mention those damned hooked creatures they kept running into, they were getting a little sick of the dangerous environment down here. A pleasant surprise was finding a peaceful mind flayer among the myconids, even if it did agitate the tadpole. It had taken all of them to hold Lae’zel back from killing Omeluum then and there.

But today, they had finally found and removed the duergar that had been terrorizing the myconid colony. Once Tav and the others snuffed out their ambush, they didn’t put up much of a fight.

“See? We just needed a good ol’ girl’s day out, no boys allowed. Isn’t this nice?” Karlach asked as she ripped her sword out of the chest of one of the bodies.

“I must admit, I was uncertain about this ‘girl’s night’, but this was enjoyable, yes.” Lae’zel rolled her shoulders, stretching her arms after the fight. “Is this a common bonding practice for women in Faerûn?”

“Something like this, yeah.” Tav chuckled as she plucked a few arrows from the corpses strewn about.

“Yes, but did the wolf have to come along?” Shadowheart was still wary of Lunari, even after all their time together.

“Lunari’s a girl too, of course she gets to come! Besides, what better way to get over your fears than to spend time with this sweet pup?” Karlach bent over to coo at the wolf, careful not to touch her though. Lunari’s entire body wiggled in response.

Tav continued going between bodies, looking for any useful materials. Near one of the dead duergar, she found a logbook.

The writing was faded and difficult to read, but she could make out the list of gems and valuable materials that had been mined from a nearby fortress. As she turned the pages, she found more lists. Not gems or valuables. The title of one of the pages read “Stock”, but contained descriptions of…people?

Deep gnome, female, young, white hair, missing one eye. Serving duty.

Deep gnome, male, bald, timid. Mining duty.

Slaves…

She did a quick scan through the rest of the book, trying to find any detail about their mining operation. On one of the last pages, she saw a symbol that caused her blood to run cold.

A small black hand had been scribbled into the corner.

Tav’s throat felt like it would swell shut. Suddenly aware of how cold the area was around her, she shivered as she fought the tears stinging her eyes. Images of her father and Noravi flashed into her mind.

A black hand on a gold cufflink.

“Hey, soldier…you alright?” Karlach came up to her side and Tav showed her the book.

“Slavers…” She could only manage one word.

“Gods above, there’s so many listed in here.” The disgust in Karlach’s voice rivaled Tav’s.

Tav pointed to the large boat bobbing in the water next to the dock.

“I’ll bet that’s the way to the ruins the gnome told us about. Probably where these assholes are holed up.”

“Ugh, I don’t know that I’d want to go for a sail across those waters.” Karlach grimaced as she looked over the uncannily still lake.

“Something tells me that’s where we’ll be heading next.” Tav said with a sigh. She saw that multiple bodies on the beach were adorned with the symbol of the Absolute. “Come on, let’s go tell the sovereign that we’ve cleared them out.”

This time they only made one wrong turn on the way back to the myconid colony – a personal best for their group – and luckily nothing dangerous came with that small detour.

The closer they drew to the myconid colony, the louder the eerie melody they used to communicate sang in their minds. Tav made her way to the top of the overlook where Sovereign Spaw resided.

The humming tune radiating from the myconid was a warm welcome, at least as far as she could tell. She conjured an image in her mind to share with it – the duergar lying dead at her feet.

“The duergar are slain; the rot has been purged.” She gave the sovereign a slight bow of her head.

The musical voice that graced her thoughts danced with a newfound hope.

“Freely you have given to us, freely you may take.” An image of parting vines glided into her mind’s eye.

“The guardian gate is open. Go and claim your reward.” It gestured behind her. “But before this, I have another boon to ask of you. You have cut out the blight, but not its source.”

Another vision played vividly in her mind. A drow dressed in Absolute garb, strolling among myconid corpses. Proud and unphased by the carnage surrounding him.

“Nere, this one is called. He hunted us – hunt him in turn. Bring me his head, and I will know my Circle is safe.” The melodic plea had taken on a more aggressive tone.

“Consider it done. I will bring you Nere’s head.” These slavers needed to be dealt with, one way or another.

“The drow lurks in the ruins beyond the lake. Bring him death, and return.” The words slowly faded into the melody floating through the colony.

Tav spun on her heels with a curt nod. She stopped to speak with the gnome she had helped a few days back.

“I wanted you to know that I’ve killed the duergar who were hunting you.” She knelt down next to Thulla.

“I’m almost sorry to hear it, I’d hoped to have the pleasure myself.” She scoffed, causing another wince of pain. Whatever poison had been used was still affecting her.

“Can you tell me who was in charge of the duergar that captured you?” She kept her voice low so the others wouldn’t hear her.

“Just those Absolute nut jobs. Can’t go five seconds without hearing that name over there.”

“Yes, but was there anyone else? Any mentions of slavers outside of the Absolute?” Tav was anxious and her tone reflected it.

“Sorry, no. They were awful tight lipped around us. Only thing I heard besides the Absolute was about sending word to some lord in Baldur’s Gate. They didn’t use a name though.” Thulla shrugged.

Fuck.

Tav took a deep breath in a desperate attempt to maintain her composure. She couldn’t tell the others why this slave ring had her so upset. She wasn’t ready for them to know who she really was.

“Thank you, Thulla. I promise you, we’ll get across the lake and save your friends.” Tav gave her a quick pat on the shoulder before rejoining her companions.

“That’s a big promise, Tav.” Shadowheart stood with her arms crossed.

“We have to go across the lake anyway. Are you telling me you’d rather leave her people enslaved?” Tav folded her arms across her chest to match Shadowheart’s stance.

“Sometimes difficult choices must be made. First and foremost, we need to find a way to Moonrise. I’m simply suggesting that we shouldn’t make promises we aren’t sure we can keep.”

“And based on the Absolute insignias I saw littered on that beach, we’ll be well on our way if we cross that lake.” Tav’s tone rose with her anger. “And believe me when I say I do not make that promise lightly.”

“I reckon we can do both, friends.” Karlach came to stand in between their feud. “Take out some more Absolute cultists which should free the gnomes, then we’ll explore the area to see if we can’t find a way to Moonrise Towers.” Though flames raged from Karlach’s skin, her words helped to cool the rising tempers between Tav and Shadowheart.

“Fine.” Shadowheart turned her nose up at Tav.

Bloody Sharrans.

They decided it would be best to come back to camp and rest before trying to make their way across the lake. No one knew what would be waiting for them, and they didn’t want to push their luck. Plus, they needed a chance to catch the guys up on what they found. For the short walk back to camp, Tav was consumed by the thought of the slavers. Terrified that their source would be revealed, and her past along with it.

***

Halsin, Astarion, Gale, and Wyll sat around the fire in awkward silence. When they were getting ready to leave this morning, Karlach insisted on having a “girls’ day out.” Tav had told him it would be a good way for him to bond with the other guys a bit more too.

Bond…you can bond with new friends, can’t you?

“So, Halsin…” Wyll started. “Is it…fun turning into a bear?”

“Um, yes. I mean, I enjoy it. There’s something comforting about walking through the forest among nature disguised as one of its inhabitants. It makes me feel more of a sense of belonging.”

“Not to mention you could rip a man’s throat out with your teeth, and what could be better than that?” Astarion was throwing his daggers into a small stump next to him repeatedly.

“Not my first choice, but yes, I suppose that is an option.” Halsin snorted as he rubbed Scratch’s belly.

“You know, I consider myself adept at most forms of magic, but druidic craft has always eluded me.” Gale looked up from his book. “How did you find yourself so proficient?”

Halsin hesitated. He wasn’t sure he was ready to explain Thaniel to them yet. Or the hours and hours he spent gathering favor with Silvanus himself.

“Well, after three hundred and fifty years, anyone can become a master of their craft. You’re already a talented wizard, Gale, imagine what you would accomplish if your lifespan increased by a few centuries.”

“That’s a good point. You elves do get an unfair advantage in that regard.”

“Trust me, darling. We pay for it in other ways.” Astarion grumbled from across the fire as he yanked a dagger from the wooden stump again.

That we do.

“Is it painful?” Wyll asked.

“Is what painful?”

“The transformation. I mean, you adopt a completely new anatomy every time you wild shape. Surely that must be at least a little uncomfortable.” Wyll’s eyes shone with curiosity.

“Well, the mechanics of wild shape vary greatly between druids. I wouldn’t want to bore you with the vast library of tiny details that make it up.” Halsin averted his gaze to the ground.

As much as he enjoyed sharing his knowledge of the ways of druids, he found not many actually wanted to listen to his expertise. They wanted grand stories of ferocious fights between beasts or demonstrations of their abilities. No one wanted to hear him ramble about the beauty of balance that could be found in nature. They couldn’t care less about how he described the difference between shifting to a bear compared to shifting into a raven. No one wanted to discuss the intricacies of utilizing magic by manipulating the Weave itself versus drawing on the power of nature around them. Even the druids of the grove would start to nod off when he began long winded speeches about their ways.

“It would be anything but! As I said, this is one area of magic that remains mostly a mystery to me. I’d much appreciate the chance to hear about it firsthand from someone of your skill.” Gale set aside the book he had been reading to give Halsin his full attention.

“That’s quite a broad subject. I don’t even know where to begin…” He fidgeted with his clothing as he racked his brain for something to share.

“Maybe just start by describing how it feels to you.” Wyll suggested. Even Astarion’s eyes flickered toward him for a moment, a quick look of interest betraying his indifferent aura.

“Well, let’s see…” Halsin took a deep breath and concentrated on the last time he had wild shaped into a bear. He closed his eyes as the familiar memory brought a small wave of comfort.

“It’s not painful, per se. There is a brief feeling of discomfort, like a limb stretched too far. It’s an itch that you can’t possibly keep yourself from scratching. And once it’s done, a fresh feeling of relief washes over you as you reveal the new form.

“But just before I look out of new eyes, familiar yet different, there’s a moment where I swear I can feel Silvanus himself standing next to me. It lasts only a fraction of a second, yet it gives me a blissful, but fleeting, feeling of safety. Of peace. There’s a balance and harmony I can only feel when I’m in wild shape. It provides me the opportunity to experience the world around me as nature intended.”

When he opened his teary eyes, Wyll and Gale were leaning forward with their arms resting on their knees. Gale’s eyes were alight with his eagerness for knowledge, Wyll had a wistful smile on his face. Astarion kept himself facing away from them, but he noticed that he had stopped throwing his daggers.

“And?” Gale prodded, his voice an enthusiastic whisper.

“And…whenever I return to this form, I feel a different connection to the Weave around me – as if Silvanus builds it anew with each transformation.”

“Fascinating!” Gale clapped his hands a couple of times. “Spending time in your animal forms actually strengthens your ability to call on the Weave?”

“In a way, yes. Of course, unlike you, I cannot manipulate it directly. That power flows through nature, through Silvanus.” Halsin found himself leaning forward as well to converse with them, his hands gesturing excitedly as he spoke. “But as I said, it’s different for all. Many druids I know only use wild shape when absolutely necessary. Instead, they rely solely on their meditations and work to strengthen their abilities in that manner.”

“Of course! Study habits are always bound to differ. Now, what about…”

He continued fielding questions and theories from Gale for hours. His insatiable desire for knowledge brought a smile to Halsin’s face, as eager to learn as he was to share. Every now and then Wyll would chime in with an inquiry or a joke. Astarion continued to project indifference, but the little twitches in his ears betrayed him as he listened to their conversation.

“Thank you, my friend. This has been most enlightening.” Gale made a few more scribbles into a notebook before turning back to beam at Halsin. “I wonder if I might make one last request?”

“Of course.”

“Would you mind casting a spell for me? Nothing complicated, I’d just like to see if I can feel the difference in the Weave around us as you do it.”

“I suppose I can manage that.” Halsin said with a laugh. “Let’s see here…” He cast a quick and familiar spell that caused a small glowing orb to appear in his hand. With a quick whoosh, the glow materialized into a small goodberry.

“Yes!” Gale let out a delighted yell. “I could feel the same pull on the threads around me as I do when I cast a conjuration spell. Yet when yours came to its fruition, I didn’t feel the familiar plucking of one those threads, more of a low hum that vibrated throughout many.”

“Glad to be of help.” He laughed as he popped the little berry into his mouth.

“Oh Gale, so easily entertained.” Astarion giggled. “Let me know when he conjures up a real feast, rather than one measly berry.”

“Considering your diet, Astarion, I do believe it could be against many magical codes of ethics to do so.” Gale continued scribbling in his notebook.

“Yes, why waste spells for that when you already have a feast right here with the three of us?” Halsin added with a chuckle.

“Hey now, don’t be offering my neck up for dinner.” Wyll laughed along with him.

“No?” Astarion had a slight pout on his lips as he turned to face Wyll. “Perhaps a wrist then?”

As the other three continued their regular banter around him, Halsin had a distant, familiar feeling creep over him. Camaraderie. Friendship. It had been so long since anyone listened to him ramble with such rapt attention. He didn’t realize how he had craved sharing his thoughts on the intricate balance of magic and nature. And to have someone who not only listened, but actively engaged in a discussion? He thought this would be the highlight of his day for sure.

Until of course footsteps pulled their attention away from their discussion of magic and vampiric diets.

Halsin once again found a grin coming across his face as Tav made her way back into the camp, the expression had become a reflex of late. When her tired eyes looked up to find his, he could have sworn they shined just a tad brighter. Not a moment later, a smile broke through her exhausted exterior. Each day he spent in her presence caused the pull in his chest to tug him a little closer to her. Their mornings were spent in one another’s company by the fire or by the glowing pond he had found. The comfort he felt spending time with her kept the darkness in his mind at bay.

It had been so long since anyone was comfortable enough to reach out to him as well. She would always be ready to give him a hug or lean her head on his shoulder, the friendly touches satisfying part of the hunger for companionship he had craved for years.

“Welcome back, my friend.” He stood up to greet her as she reached the fireside and placed one arm around her shoulders, letting his hand rest on the opposite arm from him.

“Thanks, love.” She returned the gesture with a welcoming arm around his waist.

Thanks, love.

It’s how she referred to all of her friends, but something about hearing the word “love” to describe him caused another skipped heartbeat.

“Why don’t any of us get hugs when we get back to camp?” Astarion crossed his arms with one hip cocked out to the side.

“My apologies, would you also like a hug, Astarion?” He removed his arm from Tav’s shoulder and held both out to their cheeky friend.

“Ugh, no. Just making sure you understood the favoritism at play, darling.” Astarion waved him off.

“That’s okay, I’ll take his instead.” Tav’s arm had already made its way back around his back, hugging herself to his side. It could have been his imagination, but he thought she hugged him just a little tighter today.

He chuckled in response, trying to hide the pure delight threatening to take over him. “So, how was your girl’s day?”

“Fucking spectacular!” Karlach bounded up to join the conversation. “We found the duergar, Lae’zel cut a guy in half, discovered an underground slave ring in need of busting, got a new job to kill a drow, Tav found a book about mating rituals, and a shiny icicle thing.”

“…Mating rituals?” Halsin smirked as Tav rolled her eyes.

“Here. The title says ‘Flumph Mating Rituals,’ but it seems…off somehow? I think it might be an illusion, but I can’t seem to dispel it.” She grabbed the dusty book out of her pack.

“Illusion, you say?” Gale popped out from behind Halsin causing him to jump.

“By all means.” He handed the book over to the eager wizard.

Gale made a tutting sound with his tongue as he investigated it. He ran his fingers along the spine and cover before opening it and taking a deep breath to inhale the smell of the book. After thumbing through a few pages, he briefly licked one of them. Tav’s face scrunched up into concerned disgust.

“Ah, yes. It appears to be a simple disguising charm. Just a quick little scatter of the magic here…” He swirled his fingers around the spine of the book and Halsin saw the blue, misty magic float away and dissipate into the air around them.

“Did…did you have to lick it?” Tav’s eyebrows were still furrowed as she took it back from him. She pinched the book between two fingers, letting it dangle in front of her.

Gale shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Oh, by the way…” Tav turned to dig a small, shiny piece of twisted metal out of her bag. She juggled it between her hands before giving it to Gale. Even from where he was standing Halsin could feel the icy energy radiating from it. “Found this on another dead drow. Might be your missing piece.”

“Yes! This has to fit with the others we found. Oh, yes, most promising. I do believe I can piece these together to form a new staff. If anyone needs me, I’ll be fiddling with this in my tent.”

“Ew, Gale don’t announce that to everyone.” Karlach stuck her tongue out with a small shake of her head. Tav let out a loud cackle, almost dropping the book.

“What? That’s not…I…argh, I’m surrounded by children. As I said, I’ll be in my tent.” Gale grumbled as he stormed off to his tent with a huff.

“Best not to interrupt a wizard when he fiddles with his staff.” Halsin smirked. Before he could be embarrassed by his joke, Tav and Karlach burst into a fit of laughter. The sight brought another warm feeling to his chest.

“Where’s this funny bear been the whole time?” Karlach wiped stray tears from her eyes as she regained her composure.

“He’s always been funny, just too shy about it.” Tav nudged him in the arm as she started reading through the revealed pages.

She thinks I’m funny?

“Huh, another mention of the adamantine forge. This journal confirms that it was Sharran in design.” As she continued skimming, Halsin caught a few diagrams among the words.

“Isn’t that what that petrified drow was rambling about the first time we were down here?” Shadowheart had wandered closer to their conversation.

“Not just the location, this journal is detailing how to actually operate the forge.” Tav’s eyes flitted back and forth rapidly as she scanned the page. “It mentions a guardian as well.”

“I heard rumors long ago that adamantine was among the finest metal to craft weapons and armor.” Halsin held his hands out to request the book. “I am surprised to learn that a forge of this magnitude would reside in a Sharran fortress.”

“We should seek it out when we cross the lake. If this journal is to be believed, we could craft some rather useful equipment, no?”

Halsin bristled at Shadowheart’s suggestion. No matter how useful the armor, he couldn’t think of a scenario where he would be tempted to utilize Sharran technology. Or maybe he was simply disagreeing with her for disagreements sake.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. We’re not exactly in the position to turn down the help.” Tav’s words were polite, but her clenched jaw told a different story. He slammed the book closed with a little more force than necessary.

“Let’s gather everyone around. We have a lot to discuss from today.” Tav began pulling at the straps on her armor as she stalked off toward her tent. Halsin briefly considered offering to help with them but figured it would be best to avoid that temptation today.

Once everyone had changed into more comfortable attire, they gathered around the fire for their meal as Tav filled them in on their excursion of the day.

“So based on what we found on the duergar, and the request from Spaw, our next step is taking that boat across the lake.” Tav was fidgeting with the small wooden fork she had used for her dinner as she spoke. Halsin could just barely perceive a nervous edge to her voice. Whether it was nerves about the journey across the lake or something else, he could not say.

“It sounds like this could be the fortress I’ve been looking for, the one that will lead us to Moonrise.” Halsin couldn’t contain his eagerness. This was it; he was sure of it.

“Yes. Yes, I think you may be right.” Tav gave him a light smile.

Something’s wrong…

“There’s something else…” She trailed off for a moment. “The cultists there have gnome slaves that were captured nearby. We need to make sure they’re released as well.”

“It wouldn’t do to let them stay in such a state,” Wyll spoke up immediately. “Do you know where they’re being held?”

“Not yet. I have a feeling if we find the drow, we’ll find the slaves.” She started tugging at the end of her braid.

“Then I’m sure we can take the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, if you will,” Gale chimed in next. “If we remove the cultists, it should be easy enough to get the slaves out of there as well.”

He expected Tav to relax with Gale’s suggestion. Instead, her nostrils flared and her breathing quickened.

“Yes, it will be plenty easy to free the gnomes once we’ve killed every slaver in sight.” Tav’s bitter threat startled Halsin, the disdain dripping from her voice was a terrifying contrast to the woman he had gotten to know over the past week or so.

By the looks on everyone else’s faces, he wasn’t the only one in shock from her change in demeanor.

However, the brief lull in the conversation allowed a few timid hoots to be heard from the edge of camp. As the small beaked face peeked around the foliage, Halsin couldn’t help the eager gasp that escaped his lips. In his excitement, his hand shot over to grab Tav’s leg.

“Cub.” He could only manage to whisper the one word.

The poor thing limped along as it favored a bloodied paw.

As soon as her eyes caught the cub, her vengeful aura dropped. Tav crouched down low and took a couple of slow steps toward the owlbear, stopping to kneel on one knee a few feet away from it.

“Blood…hurts…” It kept its wary eyes darting between Tav and the others.

“Oh, you’re hurt? Let me see.” She stretched her hand out and waited for the cub to come to her.

“Look. Cut.” It…he…held his paw out for her to examine. From where he was standing, the small gash didn’t look too deep.

Halsin could hear the others stirring behind him, but he waved his hand behind his back to keep them in place.

We’re not scaring it off again.

“Hold still, I’ll clean it up and make it better.” Tav spoke in a soft tone as she took his paw in her hands, healing the wound with ease. Another wave of affection slammed into his chest watching her.

“There we go, good as new.” She let the paw drop to the ground as the cub took a few tentative steps to test his weight.

“Good. No hurt.” He gave a happy wiggle of his head.

“How did this happen?” She was inspecting the cub for any other injuries he may have suffered.

“Teeth. Claws. Bigger.” Halsin stifled a thrilled chuckle as the cub stood up on its hind legs in an attempted display of power.

Remarkable how he’s interacting with her.

“Why would you fight something bigger than you?” Tav’s tone had shifted to a loving scold.

“Strong. Fight! Win!” He bowed down into more of a crouch.

Trying to show her he’s able to fight.

“Well, maybe for now stick to fights with creatures more your own size. Or maybe even a tad smaller.” Tav stood up as the cub tilted his head side to side.

“Too big? Wait…Strong! Show you!” He started bouncing excitedly around her legs, playful nips aimed at her feet. Tav laughed as he ran around her in circles and his happy chirps filled the air around them.

“I love him. So. Much!” Karlach squealed from behind them. The cub didn’t seem phased by the sudden outburst this time as he was still rather concentrated on trying to unlace Tav’s shoes with his beak.

“You do realize these things grow, do you not? Teeth and talons first.” Gale called from his seat.

“Then maybe he’ll be a good guard for the camp.” Tav knelt back down to rub the cub’s ears.

“Ooh. More.” He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes.

“Well done. He seems to trust you.” Halsin came to sit next to Tav and their new feathered friend.

“He needs a name.” She scratched under the cub’s chin as he started to aim its nose up in the air, taking in the smells of the camp.

“How about…Sniff?”

“Sniff?” Tav whipped her head around with a smile.

“I mean look at his little beak go. Besides, I think Scratch and Sniff has a nice flow to it, don’t you?” Halsin felt a sudden stab of embarrassment at the suggestion. He wasn’t sure if he had earned the right to name a new addition to this group. But when he looked back up, Tav was still smiling at him.

“I do. Sniff it is.”

“Sniff? Sniff. Sniff. Sniff!” The cub jumped around as he chanted his new name, causing another laugh from Tav.

“Ugh we need to get this engine fixed. I am dying to pet this little guy.” Karlach looked to be in physical pain at keeping her hands tight at her side.

As he sat and considered his surroundings, the cub wandered over to sit in his lap. He had tracked him and the mother for weeks; at the time he was thankful to even get a glimpse of them. Now, he had the cub sitting here with him. Something that never would have happened were he still stuck with his Archdruid title, confined to the politics of the grove.

“Thank you, Tav,” Halsin whispered.

“Whatever for?” She plopped down on the ground next to him.

“For this.” He gestured broadly around their camp. “For allowing me to share in your company. For rescuing me from the goblins, for finally giving me an excuse to leave the confines of the grove.”

“It was hardly a difficult choice to make. I’m glad to have you here.” She reached over to pet Sniff’s ears again.

It was everything.

“And I’m happy to be here. Now, I believe you all will be needing your rest before your journey tomorrow.” He would have stood up with Tav, but his new feathered friend kept him pinned to the ground. She grabbed one of his shoulders to help herself off the ground, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Goodnight, Halsin.”

Was that the faintest brush of her fingers running across his neck as she walked away?

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin x tav #halsin fanfic #bg3 fluff #halsin fluff

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daisies-daydreams · 11 months

Note

Hi daisy as you said you do oc x canon i had been dying to find a blog like yours and here iam 😌 So I would love to request my oc Lilian I have a drawing of her on a papper but it wont look so good so I will still give a description on her by writing I hope I don't give too many detils but here she is !

I know it looks so ugly but yeah so she has stawberry pink hair and heterochromia one aqua blue eye and a lignt green eye. And fleckles She is from a skyisland that speaks a ancient language and workship a god she also has a tattoo on the rignt leg that represent the god like this

She personlity is very cute sweet/kind , naive, curious,shy loves helping people Lilian also loves giving hugs and kisses to her loved ones .But don't be fooled she can use magic her village uses magic like wayer magic telkniss magic too tho.She is pretty short she is 165cm(5,5 ft).But now to the request Lilian has just moved away from her home and family she arrives at town with her suitcase with her belongsing goes to a bar and orders a beer and some bread.But than the red hair pirates come in and sits down.She catchs shanks eyes because of her appearance and her clothes that she is wearing and he goes and sits down beside and starts to chat. By the she joins shanks crew and crew gets to know her and her bakround I hope you understand my request and no this not a love fic just friends.

⚠️But if this is too much detils decilne than.I hope I can request again some time.! Have a amazing day love❤💗!

The Found Voyager (OC!Lilian x Shanks - Platonic)

Pairing: OP!OC!Lilian x Shanks (Platonic) Category: Fluff Warnings: Swearing, Drinking Word Count: 4.2k+

A/N: Hello! Thank you very much for your request! I love the design for Lillian-she looks like a very sweet and headstrong person. I hope you enjoy the story!

Part 2

Lilian’s long, pink hair whipped in the sea breeze as she took her first step onto the rickety docks of Fairage. Her blue and green eyes sparkled as she heard the unfamiliar crunch of gravel underneath her foot. She ground the flat of her shoe against it, relishing in the fact that after all this time, she finally made it to the World Below. Lilian clutched her hand against her chest as she took a deep breath.

“Look for the shop with the silver fleur-de-lis,” she reminded herself. Her heart thumped as she took another step forward, her mind racing at the different sights and sounds around her. Children holding their mother’s hands, fishermen hollering about their fresh stock, a few dogs barking and rushing around wildly. Her eyes scanned the rows of shops and booths until they landed on a silver symbol.

"I found it!" she squealed internally. Lilian gasped when a man with messy, crimson hair bumped into her. He whipped around and rested his hand on his temple.

“My apologies, miss,” he said with an apologetic smile. Before Lilian could reply, he had already faded into the crowd. She closed her mouth and shrugged before turning to the large, wooden door. She smiled as she opened the squeaky door, a high-pitched ring echoing through the small shop.

"Be out in a second!" a croaky voice called past the rows and rows of stuffed shelves. Lilian parted her lips as she spun around, completely enraptured by the variety of knick-knacks, weapons and other bizarre items that lined the shelves. She gasped when she accidentally bumped into something rough and large. Lilian whipped around, her eyes widening when a massive, hulking man with a bandana over his head raised a brow and grunted.

"I-I'm very sorry, sir!" the young lady said as she held up her hands. A clatter rang out through the room as a curly-haired woman burst out from the back.

"I really need to clean this damn place," she sighed as she dusted off her sleeves. The older woman perked her head up when she noticed Lilian standing in front of the giant man...or more specifically, her large suitcase.

"Ah, welcome to Minerva's Menagerie! Anything Antiques and Pawn Shop ®, " she greeted while motioning towards the counter. Lilian gave the man a small smile before following Minerva. The older woman grunted as she clutched her cane and plopped herself down on a comfy stool. "So, what can I do for you today, dearie?" the shopkeeper asked.

Lilian smiled and heaved her large suitcase onto the counter. Minerva raised a brow as the young lady rummaged through the various items that was tossed around on her journey. She grinned as she triumphantly pulled out a dark, medium-sized bag. Minerva's eyes widened as Lilian pulled out several pieces of fine, sparkling jewelry. The older woman's face nearly lost all color when she saw a necklace adorned with the symbol of the Fairy Goddess.

"I know it's not a lot, but Kumo told me that it's worth a lot-"

She snapped her head towards the large man.

"The shop is closed for a private appointment!" she said as she shuffled towards him.

"What?" he huffed with furrowed brows. She shooed him out with her cane before whipping her head around. "Same goes for the two of you back there! And you better put back whatever you have in your pockets!" Minerva bellowed. Lilian pursed her lips as she heard some muttering followed by clanging.

"Carefully!" the shopkeeper screeched. Two similar, dark-haired looking men tumbled out, one wearing an eyepatch and the other a scar over his chin. They scowled at Lilian before making their way out of the shop. Minerva gave a firm nod as she locked the door behind her. The woman turned back to Lilian.

"Sorry about that," she said as she clasped her hands, her demeanor shifting in the blink of an eye. Lilian gave an uncomfortable expression.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked. Minerva cackled as she hobbled back to her stool.

"Not at all. It's just been a while since I've heard that old geezers name," she winked as she tapped her cane on the rug. Lilian's lips tightened.

"Well, he told me to come find you and give you these," she breathed as she pushed the jewelry forward. Minerva hummed and stroked her chin, her gaze shifting between the young woman.

"Tell me again...how do you know Kumo?" she asked. Lilian bit the inside of her cheek.

"Oh...friend of a friend?" she said in a high-pitched voice. Minerva pursed her lips.

"I see," she sighed before yanking down a magnifying apparatus from the ceiling. "Now, let’s see what we’ve got here,” the shopkeeper said as she pulled down a magnifying apparatus from the ceiling. The shopkeeper poked her tongue out as she took the delicate necklace into her wrinkled hands.

“Mhm, ah yes, I see,” she hummed. Minerva continued the process until she pulled the apparatus up with a high-pitched creak. She leaned forward on her palms. “I can give you five-hundred Berries for the brooches each…and five thousand for the Fairy Goddess Necklace,” she explained. Lilian’s jaw dropped.

“Five thousand?!" she yelped. Lilian slapped her hands over her mouth. “Sorry-five thousand?!” she whispered loudly. Minerva nodded with a chuckle as she placed the items behind the desk and locked them in a cabinet.

“That’s right," she hummed. Lilian swallowed.

"O-Oh, well...I don't want to take that much from you," she replied sheepishly. Minerva waved her hand.

"Ah, nonsense. I'm sure you just arrived here from Fairygod Island, right?" she asked. Lilian nodded. Minerva clanked her cane against the ground. "Then I'm more than happy to assist a fellow Islander," she beamed. Lilian smiled as the shopkeeper gathered together her cash and handed it to her in a dark, leather bag.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Minerva," Lilian replied. A loud, gurgling sound suddenly rumbled between them. The young woman's eyes widened as she clutched her stomach. Minerva chuckled.

"If you're hungry, there's a nice pub right across the street," she suggested as she crossed her arms. Lilian hummed as she closed up her suitcase.

"Thank you for the recommendation," she smiled.

“Anytime,” Minerva said. "Hope to see you again soon," she beamed. Lilian returned her grin before hauling her suitcase out the door. Her heart leapt inside her chest as she stepped into the bustling street. The sun had dipped a little past the skyline of the city as she whistled an ancient tune to herself.

She froze when a group of children rushed past her, all of them giggling and carrying colorful pinwheels in their hands. Lilian giggled to herself before she glanced up.

“'The Salty Serpent'," she read as the sign above her gently swayed in the wind. "Sounds lovely!” she chirped as she opened the door. Lilian's eyes widened when a saucer flied towards her. She squeaked and ducked her head as it grazed over her pink loops. The young woman winced as she heard it crash against a brick wall behind her.

“Sorry about the mess! And by mess, I mean this lot,” a young, blue-haired woman called from inside as she gestured to all the men. They all turned their attention to the slender woman standing in the doorway with her suitcase in hand. Lilian gave a polite curtsy before walking inside, sending her bright smile all around the room. One could hear a pin drop, the crowd completely silent as Lilian strode over to an empty stool at the bar. The bartender raised her brow at the man at the piano.

"Well, what'd you stop for?!" she exasperated. The blonde man sat up straight before going back to playing a cheery tune. The pub slowly shuffled back to life as Lilian clasped her hands together. “Haven’t seen you around here before,” the bartender said as she dried out a glass mug. Lilian nodded as she set her suitcase at her feet.

“I just got here today,” she explained with a bright smile. The blue-haired woman hummed as she slung the rag over her shoulder.

“Well, welcome to Fairage, newcomer. Name’s Emilie,” she said as she held out her hand.

“Lilian,” she replied while shaking the other woman's hand. Lilian gasped and laid a hand over her belly as it rumbled.

“You hungry?” Emilie chuckled. Lilian nodded.

“Could I just have some bread and beer please?” she asked.

“That’s all?” Emilie asked with a raised brow. The pink-haired woman nodded again. “Alright then. One bread and beer coming up,” the bartender said before padding towards the rows of bottles. She quickly returned with Lilian’s food.

“Thank you,” she said with a polite smile.

“Sure thing. If ya need anything else, just let me know,” she said. Lilian watched as Emilie busied herself with arranging some glasses. The pink-haired woman brought the mug up to her lips. She furrowed her brows as the bubbly drink washed over her taste buds. Lilian cringed a little at the acidic taste before setting the glass down.

“It’s not for everyone,” Emilie said. The young woman nodded as she took the bread into her hands. She brought it up to her lips and nibbled on it, squishing her fingers together. She happily ate her small snack as the front door suddenly swung open. Lilian jumped in her chair while Emilie rested her hands on her hips.

“Well, well-didn’t think I’d see you around here anytime soon, Shanks,” she lilted. Lilian turned to see a group of men file into the tavern. They were all different heights and sizes, each one more unique than the last. She completely forgot she was still nibbling on her bread until a familiar-looking man slid into the chair next to her. He flashed her a smile.

“Do you always eat like a hamster?” Shanks chuckled. His eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as Lilian tilted her head towards him.

"Hey...you're that woman I ran into earlier," he muttered.

“What’s a hamster?” she disregarded his statement. His jaw dropped as he chortled and slapped his thigh. His smile instantly fell when he saw her serious expression.

“Wait-you’re not joking?” he asked. Lilian shook her head.

“Sorry, I’m from…out of town,” she said while shifting her eyes back and forth. Shanks hummed as he rested his cheek on his palm.

“Really? Where’re you from then?” he asked with genuine intrigue. Lilian nearly choked on her tiny bite. She coughed a few times and cleared her throat.

“Fairygod Island. It's in the sky,” she said with a nervous smile. Shanks blinked before he burst into laughter along with the rest of his crew.

“I like this one! She has a great sense of humor!” he boomed. Lilian couldn’t help but giggle at his exuberant personality. “Emilie, please get our new friend here some beef stew. On me,” the red-haired man smiled. Lilian’s cheeks flushed.

“Y-You don’t have to do that,” Lilian said shyly. Shanks waved his hand.

“It’s no problem at all. Besides, I owe you after bumping into you earlier,” he beamed. Lilian bit the inside of her cheek as she folded her hands in her lap. “Oh and a beer for me as well,” Shanks added.

“I’ll add that to your tab that you’re definitely paying off this time...right?” Emilie asked. Shanks remained stiff as a board. “Right?” the bartender repeated.

“Sure,” he grinned and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You really suck at lying,” Emilie sighed as she shook her head. Shanks chuckled and let his hand fall back to his side.

“I know,” he replied. Emilie narrowed her eyes before she clicked her tongue.

“I’ll be back with the soup,” she said as she pointed her finger at the pirate. He held his hands up in surrender as she shuffled to the kitchen. She soon returned with a piping hot bowl of beef stew and a large mug of beer. Lilian’s eyes sparkled when she saw the hearty meal in front of her.

“Thank you, sir,” she said. Shanks nodded before taking a swig of beer.

“Just Shanks is fine,” he replied. Lilian smiled sheepishly and nodded. She brought the bread up to her lips before gently nibbling on the end, her hands pressed together. The young woman smiled happily and wiggled in her seat as the savory flavor of the soup mellowed inside her mouth. She noticed Shanks staring at her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked with genuine concern. Shanks glanced away before taking a big sip.

“Just thinking,” he said.

“About what?” she asked. Shanks stroked his chin.

“About why a refined young lady such as yourself is wandering around a town like Fairage,” the pirate answered. Lilian squeezed the spoon in her hand.

“Well…it’s a bit of a long story,” the young woman replied as she stirred her meal.

“Good thing I have time to kill, then,” he grinned. Lilian sighed.

“I wanted just to live a normal life. A life away from the pala-from my parents' expectations,” Lilian quickly corrected herself. Shanks adjusted in his seat.

“So, you’re a runaway?” he asked. Lilian nodded, her blue and green eyes growing a bit glossy. The man beside her straightened as she sniffed and wiped the tears from her freckled cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting to get this emotional,” she laughed quietly. Shank’s brows furrowed. Lilian tilted her head up when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said softly. Lilian’s heart skipped a beat as she smiled.

“I just…I thought it’d be so easy to leave since I wanted it for so long…but I still miss a lot of people I left behind,” she sighed. Shanks nodded as he patted her shoulder.

“Of course,” he said with a sympathetic smile. Lilian mirrored his expression before she heard the sound of Emilie sighing.

“Man, why can’t I ever keep these things alive?” she frowned as she brushed her fingers over a wilting flower. Lilian tilted her head before looking around. She flicked her free hand beneath the bar. A green glow emitted from her slender fingertips as well as the rose tattoo on her leg. Emilie gasped as the flower straightened out, its original vibrant crimson returning to its petals.

“Oh my goodness!” she yelped and nearly dropped the vase. Everyone turned to look in her direction.

“Now how did that happen?” Shanks wondered aloud as he scratched his head. Lilian shrugged.

“Who knows?” she laughed nervously. The red-haired pirate glanced her way with a pensive expression. He bit the inside of his cheek as everyone gathered around to see the miraculous flower. The Chief shifted in his seat to face her.

“I’m afraid I never got your name,” he said.

“Oh! It’s Lilian,” the young woman smiled and held out her hand. Shanks grinned as he shook her delicate hand, his calloused palm rubbing over hers.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lilian,” he grinned before lowering his hand to his side. He paused for a moment. “Sorry if I come across as rude, but you have no place to stay as of now, right?” Shanks asked. She nodded.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t think that far ahead,” she replied sheepishly. Shanks hummed as he rubbed his chin.

“Well…what do you think of joining my crew?” he asked. Her eyes widened as time seemed to stand still. “Forgive my bluntness-it’s just…I’d hate it if you were wandering the streets with no one looking out for you,” Shanks explained. Lilian nodded as her heart swelled.

“T-Thank you,” she blushed. Shanks hummed as he scratched his stubbly jaw. He suddenly gained a serious expression.

“Lilian, I’ll be honest with you. Being a part of my crew will not be easy-in fact, it’ll be downright dangerous,” he began. Lilian leaned a bit closer, intrigue pulling her in like a lasso. “There are other pirates, Marines, and all sorts of other groups who want nothing more than our heads,” Shanks stated. She gasped.

“You’re a criminal?” Lilian murmured behind her hands. The pirate chuckled.

“Depends on who you ask,” he said. Lilian pursed her lips before Shanks cleared his throat. “Anyway, it certainly won’t be the “normal” life you were speaking of earlier, but I can tell you this: you’ll never be bored, you’ll get to see incredible sights, and you’ll have even more incredible people to lean on,” he beamed. Lilian smiled as he shifted in his chair a bit more and gazed straight into her heterochromatic eyes.

“So…what do you say?” Shanks asked with an excited grin. The young woman thought to herself for a moment and closed her eyes. She prayed to the Fairy Goddess for guidance before opening them again.

“I’ll go,” she beamed. Shanks’ smile grew even wider as he slapped his thigh.

“Fantastic! Emilie! Let’s have another round to celebrate our newest crew member: Lilian!” he called. The Red-Haired Pirates stared at the pink-haired woman in shock before they came rushing up to her.

“Are you really joining our crew?” a larger man with glasses and a striped cap asked. Lilian nodded.

“Yes sir!” she beamed. The group of men cheered. Her smile grew all the more wider as she looked over the room, her heart feeling lighter than air as she took in the sight of her new friends celebrating. She peeked over at Shanks before leaning over and pressing her lips to his stubbly cheek. He immediately tensed as his face flushed a deep red.

“Thank you,” Lilian smiled as she took his hand into hers. Shanks swallowed thickly.

“Oi Shanks! Your face is looking just as red as your hair!” a man with caramel-colored dreads pointed and laughed. Shanks clenched his jaw.

“Why is your face so red?” Lilian asked. The pirate turned back to her and coughed into his hand.

“Well, it’s just been a while since I’ve been kissed on the cheek by a pretty woman like yourself,” he explained. The tips of Lilian’s ears burned.

“Oh my goodness! I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” she flushed. Shanks tilted his head as Lilian bit her lip. “You see, where I’m from, a kiss on the cheek is how we greet friends, and holding hands is how we show that our friendship is an everlasting bond,” the young woman explained. His face slowly returned back to its normal color as he sighed.

“Understood,” he chuckled as he took a sip of his beer. The crew came up to Lilian and asked her all sorts of questions (many of which she dodged with answers provided to her by Kumo). Eventually, the rowdiness died down as they all had their share of beer. Emilie held her hand out.

“The tab,” she said with raised brows. Shanks grumbled as he pulled out a few bills and handed it over. Emilie gave a firm nod as she counted the money. The red-haired man nudged Lilian’s elbow and leaned over.

“I’d be happy to show you around your new home and help you get settled in,” he whispered. Lilian beamed as she took his hand into hers, drawing another blush from his cheeks.

“I’d love that,” she replied with a sweet smile.

+++

There was more drinking when the crew returned to the Red Force...a lot more drinking. The crewmembers sang songs and stumbled around the decks as Lilian watched with another mug in hand. Shanks wandered over to her and took a swig of sake. He sniffed and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

"You want to try?" he asked. She vigorously shook her head. "Suit yourself," the Chief shrugged before taking another sip. He hummed as she rubbed her hands together. "Something wrong?" he asked. Lilian glanced over and bit her lip.

"Could we find a place that's a bit more private? I...I need to tell you something," she said with a shaky breath. Shanks blinked before setting his sake down.

"Sure. Follow me," he replied. He led her past the rowdy men towards his quarters. Lilian's heart thrummed in her ears as she stepped inside, the room dimly lit with candles.

"So, what did you want to tell me?" Shanks asked with a casual smile as he folded his arms. Lilian took a deep breath.

"You know how I said that I was from an island in the sky?" she asked. Shanks nodded.

"Yep," he replied. The woman sighed as she played with the red-beaded bracelet on her wrist.

"Well...what if I told you I wasn't joking?" Lilian asked. There was a short pause.

"I'm sorry...what?" the Chief asked as he lowered his arms to his sides. Lilian curled and uncurled her fists before standing up straight.

"It's true. I just arrived her today on my hippogriff," she said as she squeezed her eyes shut. Shanks blinked.

"Oooookay..." he said incredulously. Lilian sighed.

"Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but I'm telling the truth!" she said as her shoulder slumped. "Kumo told me people would think I'm crazy if I told them," she groaned.

"Who's Kumo?" Shanks asked. Lilian turned around.

"He's my bu-best friend," she said. The Chief hummed and crossed his arms.

"I see-and I don't think you sound crazy. I've always known the Sky Islands as only myths," the man explained.

"Oh," Lilian said as she glanced down at her feet. There was short pause between the two.

"Anything else I need to know about you?" he quickly changed the subject at the sign of her uncomfortable expression. Lilian hummed.

"Well...I do have some magical skills," she said in a muffled voice. Shanks leaned closer.

"What was that?" he asked. Lilian sucked in a sharp breath.

"I-I can do some magic," she said a bit louder. The red-haired man's eyes widened.

"You mean...at the Serpent today, when Emilie's plant grew back...that was you?" he asked. Lilian flushed and nodded.

"Yes! I can also perform water magic," she explained with a bright smile. Shanks raised a brow.

"Prove it," he said. Lilian blinked.

"What?" she asked. Shanks walked over to his desk and pulled out a glass flask. He set it down on his desk with a heavy clank.

"Push the cap off of this flask with your magic," he said. Lilian glanced back and forth between him and the flask before gulping.

"O-Okay. You might want to stand back though," she said. Shanks did as she said before she planted both of her feet firmly on the floor. She narrowed her eyes as she held her hand out. Her rose tattoo began to glow a light blue in tandem with her fingertips as she maintained her eye contact on the glass flask. The object shook violently before suddenly exploding. Lilian gasped as the glass shards tumbled throughout the room.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!" she yelled. Shanks looked down at the mess at his feet, a few pieces of glass merely sticking to the outside of his clothes. He chuckled.

"Miss Lilian, you are full of surprises," the Chief grinned as he dusted himself off. Lilian blushed and smiled before helping him clean up the mess. She frowned when she saw a red mark across his hand.

"Your hand," she muttered. Shanks looked down and laughed.

"That's nothing, trust me," he said as he rummaged through his drawers and pulled out a small box. The Chief pulled out some bandages with his single hand.

"Here, let me," Lilian urged as she rested her hand over his. Shanks looked into her eyes and smiled softly.

"If you insist," he grinned as she sank into his chair. She pulled out the small pieces of glass before disinfecting the wound. "That tattoo on your leg...does it always glow when you use your magic?" Shanks asked. Lilian looked down at her right leg and nodded.

"Yes-it's from a pact our family made with the ancient Fairy Goddess," she elaborated. The Chief hummed as she wrapped a bandage around his hand. "She watches over all aspects of nature, whether it be the soil of the World Below or the water in the clouds," Lilian continued.

"The World Below?" Shanks asked. She paused.

"Yes...that is what this plane is called, right?" Lilian asked. Shanks chuckled and shook his head.

"Well, we call it 'Earth' down here," he said with a cheeky grin. Her cheeks burned as she closed the lid of the kit.

"Oh, I see," she said as embarrassment flooded through her.

"Hey, you didn't know. Unless you're trying to give your new Chief a hard time," he winked. She held up her hands.

"Of course not!" she squeaked. Shanks laughed.

"I'm just messing with you," he jested. Lilian gave a small laugh before yawning.

"Well, I'm feeling rather exhausted, so I think I'll turn in for the night," Lilian said. Shanks grunted.

"Sure thing," he replied. Lilian gave a small curtsy before taking a few steps. Her eyes widened when the Chief grasped her hand. She slowly turned to see his warm smile.

"I never properly told you...Welcome to the Red-Haired Pirates," he beamed. Lilian smiled as he squeezed her hand.

"Thank you for letting me join your crew, Chief Shanks," she said.

----

Thank you for reading! 💖

A/N/N: Stay tuned for Part 2!

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#one piece #op anime #op manga #one piece anime #one piece manga #shanks #shanks one piece #one piece oc #red haired shanks #one piece fanfiction #op oc #one piece fluff #one piece angst #shanks x female oc #shanks x oc

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mystery-moose · 2 years

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DEATH STRANDING (Feb 27th)

In my quest to write down thoughts about art this year, I recently completed Hideo Kojima’s Death Stranding for the first time! I had started it twice already, but stalled out both times because I got distracted or moved onto other things.

Kojima has always been a problematic fave of mine, but Death Stranding might be my problematic favoritest of his work.

The raw gameplay loop is as perfectly calibrated, engaging, and compelling as it was when I first played it back in 2019. It is, as Tim Rogers put it, the Gran Turismo of walking simulators, though I would probably put it more accurately as “the world’s best hiking and logistics simulator.” Trekking across Icelandic wastelands and haunted volcanic plains and up and down mountains is alternately so meditative and so tense that even after a cumulative hundred hours in my save file I was still doing optional deliveries just because I enjoy traversing the world. It’s so singular and unique in the thing it’s attempting to do, and in particular with the atmosphere it’s trying to cultivate, that I can say honestly that I’ve never played anything like it. And that’s a wild thing to say about a game with a big budget these days!

But that’s what you get with Kojima. Especially with Kojima these days, unfettered by corporate oversight or monetary concerns. He wants to communicate something, and by god he’s going to do that whether you or anyone likes it or not. That’s a big reason he’s gotten the reputation he has today. And we can argue about auteurship and how it’s bullshit in collaborative mediums all day (and that’s a fine argument to have) but it’s not like Kojima didn’t put in the hours -- the dude’s been making games since 1986, and been a project lead since ‘87. We can say he got lucky once, maybe twice, but we gotta say he’s worked for his pedigree at this point.

I mean, the man made an entire game about nothing but fetch quests, and he made it fun! What the fuck, right?

That’s to say nothing about the use of music, which introduced me to some tunes that still live on my phone! Or the stark, utilitarian-but-inventive mechanical design of Yoji Shinkawa. Or its story, rooted in absurdist silliness, Tarkovsky-esque surrealism, and bizarre metaphysics, bluntly hammering its central message home even as it weaves numerous other threads (heh) into its narrative through its use of visual symbolism, textual analysis, and iconography.

Of course the pacing is a nightmare, though -- so much of the story is backloaded in the final few hours of the game, including numerous revelations that would be better served earlier in the story. And his treatment of female characters, while much better here than Metal Gear Solid V, is... well that bar is beneath the floor, frankly. I do like the women of Death Stranding, in particular Fragile (yes that’s her name, every character is named like that) but the way the camera treats Fragile in one scene that would otherwise be really powerful, and the way Mama’s subplot goes and what Kojima’s even trying to gesture towards, and then the whole deal with Bridget and Amelie... it’s all just kind of a mess.

Which is basically the story of the story of Death Stranding, really! It’s a mess! A frequently fascinating, rarely insightful, occasionally quite powerful mess, but a mess all the same. Whether or not you can look past the stuff that doesn’t work to examine the stuff that does, or are equally interested in failures and fuckups as successes, determines whether you’ll enjoy the story here. That’s how Kojima rolls, though, has been since Metal Gear Solid 2, though that game probably remains his high point for thematic fascination, if not dialogue or character writing. (Including women! Seriously, he’s only been good at it like one time!)

I’ll say, too, that if you care little for story and want to run purely on vibes, then Death Stranding might very well be for you! The vibes here are totally unique and absolutely immaculate, particularly in the audio-visual department. There is nothing quite like when one of those Low Roar songs kicks in while you’re descending a mountain toward a new city, or Silent Poets coming in as you march across a blasted plain. And again, it all feels so personal; you are listening to Kojima’s personal mixtape, a set of bands he heard that he loved and which he associated with this game he was making, and getting that kind of truly personal touch from a big-budget experience is almost impossible to find in games.

Everything in Death Stranding, for better or for worse, is the product of one man’s mind, a snapshot of the things that move him, scare him, fascinate him, make him think and feel and wonder. And they’re all things he wants YOU to think about and feel and wonder. Some of them are stupid, for sure! Others are obvious or shallow. But more than anything, they’re all honest. Death Stranding is one of the most earnest, sincere artistic expressions I’ve seen in any big-budget media, and if that interests you at all (or you’re really into traversal mechanics in games) I’d absolutely recommend it.

Or if you like to point and laugh at the man who put a guy named “Die-Hardman” into his story. Rest assured that Kojima is absolutely laughing too.

#death stranding #video games #i gotta say for as dumb as it was?#i REALLY liked the ending to this game #absolutely impeccable vibes #even as the story itself got so bogged down in its details #great performances from tommie earl jenkins and mads mikkelsen though!#and i really ended up liking norman reedus a lot too #and of course troy baker's scenery chewing. the man fasted for DAYS before he got to that set you can tell

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megatraven · 2 years

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Cookies for Cupid

Pairing: Eros x MC Summary: Three years into their sort-of-relationship, Eros realizes his feelings for MC have become stronger. Have hers changed, too? AO3 || Wordcount: 2,412

Valentine’s Day is probably the only thing in any world that Eros has more familiarity with than his mother.

While it is the day of love, Aphrodite isn’t the most prominent symbol associated with it- and she doesn’t have to be the one cursed each time a relationship ends in heartbreak.

He never particularly understood it as a holiday, either. At least, not how it’s celebrated now. Love was something that should be celebrated and indulged in every day of the year, not just one. It was ridiculous to limit big romantic gestures and red roses and heart-shaped chocolates to a single day in the year.

For him, it was stupid.

And yet.

And yet, here he was, watching his current fixation finish icing the cookies she made. For him. Heart-shaped and everything. The icing matched the color of his eyes, and the writing she put on each cookie was neatly done, every word made with love.

For him.

Because he mentioned it once, two years prior. An off-handed comment he made in the midst of one of their many arguments, back when they hated one another with a passion fit for… well, him. The god of passion himself.

Gods. Two years ago.

That first year was terrible. Eros had been so full of himself, so convinced that the gods were better than any human, despite his rich history with them. And she was a pencil pusher that Alex stuck him with, a petty response to Eros’ demand for someone competent. At least, that’s what he though at first. Through his case, she came through in more ways than he ever would have expected, all while juggling their arguments and trying to squash down her budding feelings for him. He’d made fun of her once for it, before they became friendly, and the hurt that flashed through her expression would be burned into his mind for centuries to come.

The second year, though, was better. They’d reached a point in their relationship where they could claim friendship, and Eros made time outside of his godly duties to spend time with her. Of course, being the god of love, he was able to tell when her feelings for him truly cemented, and he found himself happier for it.

He had asked her to go out with him, thinking she wouldn’t ever ask him after the way he’d made fun of her for her feelings before. If he initiated, she wouldn’t have to worry about it. But she took him by surprise- something she was far too good at- when she said no. She hadn’t been ready, despite her feelings. With her career kicking off and every other complication they were dealing with… it hadn’t been time. He respected her decision, because he respected her, and she was teaching him to be a better man. A better god.

And all that led to the past few months.

To right now.

His girlfriend glances up at him, eyes twinkling from behind the icing bag, and there's a mischievous glint there that he knows all too well.

"What's that look for?" he asks, though he makes a show of moving a little ways away.

"What look? This is just my face," she says, schooling her expression down into something that might fool anyone else. Oh, but he knew her too well, now.

With a smirk, he bats his eyelashes at her.

"You're so pretty when you're lying to me."

"Mm... you could be prettier, I think."

And before he can muster a witty comeback, she's pointed the bag of icing at him. He can't even put his hands up, godly reflexes or no, before she squeezes, and pink icing sprays all over his face.

"...You're going to pay for that," he growls, and practically leaps across the counter at her.

He grabs onto her shoulders before she can back away and pulls her close enough that he can rub his face against hers, sullying them both. She shrieks, pushing with one hand at his face and the other at his shoulder while he continues his attack, laughing all the while.

"Okay, okay, truce! Truce!" She's breathing heavily, keeping her hand over his face as he stops and smiles. "Oh my gods."

"Just one, actually," he says, though it's muffled. He kisses her palm once, and then licks the frosting there, laughing when she rips her hand away.

"You're awful," she says with a pout, holding her hand like it's wounded.

"So you remind me. Every day."

He rounds the counter, swiping some of the icing from her face and eating it, never breaking eye contact with her. Her answering blush draws her brow down, and she turns from him, arms crossed.

"Absolutely awful. You need to learn some better manners, Eros."

"Oh, but who could put up with me long enough to teach me?"

"Your mother."

"Ouch."

He steps closer, pressing up against her back. She leans into him, despite her biting remark. When his arms wrap around her, she sighs, resting her head against his chest.

"If I say sorry, will you forgive me?" he asks, careful not to nuzzle her to avoid any icing in her hair. It's strange that he cares about such a thing now, that being thoughtful even occurs to him. Or how he remembers what she told him once, what a pain it was to wash it out of her hair, especially if it dried in.

"Maybe."

"Will you at least look at me?"

She turns her head towards him, angling her body just enough that he can see most of her face... and that she's sticking her tongue out at him.

It's silly. It's so stupid. Mortals do the most immature little things like this, constantly, all the time. It's ridiculous. It's...

Well.

It's her.

Which means that Eros' desire sparks at the sight, terrible god that he is. Or awful, depending on the day.

He reaches up to hold her face still, and leans in to kiss her, nipping at her tongue. He swallows her protest easily, although he knows it's because she doesn't truly protest at all. Indignance melts in the wake of his lips on hers, her body turning towards his as her eyes flutter shut. Her tongue swipes across a touch of icing stuck between their kiss, sending a shiver through him.

"You taste pretty sweet," he murmurs, punctuating it with a kiss.

She kisses him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling them closer together. When she strays from his lips, it's to leave a trail of smudged red lipstick across his jaw, up to his earlobe.

"Mm, and you're a lot less bitter than normal." She bites down, not to draw blood, but a gasp from him instead.

"You're really asking for trouble, little mortal."

But there's no bite to his words; he moves just so, giving her access to his throat. That is something he's done for no other mortal lover of his, giving them such power over him. She makes it so easy, though, to give in. To receive her attention and care, her delicious love in all its lovely intent. There was never anything more to it, no secret motive. Just her love, deeper than any other's, and her desire to make him feel it.

She smiles against his skin, teeth grazing it as she speaks.

"Only if you're the god of trouble."

Oh, he would be the god of anything at all if she asked him to be. If she kept touching him like this, if her hungry kisses would never leave the veins they trace over, desperate for the beat of his heart, chasing it with no sign of ever stopping.

"Fuck."

Her fingers knot in his hair, pulling and tugging until she elicits a hiss of approval. He might have her backed against the counter, but she's in full control, exploring him with fervor only he could ever match. He doesn’t even care about the remaining icing smearing across his skin, not when her teeth desecrate his shirt, tearing the top button off in one devastatingly gorgeous move. It’s almost feral, the way she does it without a second thought. He loves it.

He loves her.

She draws another gasp from him as she ventured down to newly exposed skin, kissing along hidden freckles and long-healed scars. Here’s where she turns more gentle, even in the midst of love-making. She always knows when to take care, to infuse her touch with as much love as she can. It’s slow and sweet, and it touches his heart more than anything else.

He loves her.

She looks up at him, deep brown eyes searching for the go-ahead, that she hasn’t overstepped here, that he wants this, too. His heart aches.

He loves her.

A nod signals her to keep going, her answering smile almost too much for him to bear. That she can feel such warmth towards him- him!- ignites his need past the point of staying status-still. While she focuses on his collarbone, he frees one of his arms from the embrace and works on unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, wanting to give her an entire canvas to work with if she so wants it, undisturbed, uninterrupted.

Her eyes gleam, filled to the brim with affection. He can feel it, almost grasp it between his hands- he could grasp it between his hands, if he could focus on anything other than feel of her skin on his, the way her lips curl against him.

He sighs, leaning into her and closing his eyes. He hasn't felt like this in so long that it feels new to him again, the ecstasy of want and need. Of love.

How had he forgotten this?

How had he let the years of heartache and misguided and selfishness rob him of the greatest thing in any world, which he had experienced firsthand countless enough times? How could he have thrown it all away, and allowed his own heart to become embittered and cruel?

He wraps his arms around her suddenly, ignoring the squeak of surprise as he holds her close. She returns it after a moment, quiet even when he knows that she must be burning up with curiosity. He smirks at the thought, an exhale of a laugh leaving him.

"I..."

Opening his eyes, he lets them rest on the cookies behind her, just barely finished. His heart almost stops as he takes them all in.

Heart-shaped, way too sugary, wine red instead of rose.

With letters on each, spelling out 'I LOVE YOU' across the batch.

He loves her.

"I love you."

Her hold on him tightens, fingers digging into his skin, hard enough to bruise later. He can't blame her; he hasn't uttered those words to anyone in... centuries, at least.

"I love you," he says again, whispering it into her skin, urging his affection to sink beneath and warm her.

"...Do you mean that?" she murmurs, face turned into him. Her expression is hidden, but she never loosens her grip.

There's the faintest thread of fear in her words, the thought that he might be playing with her heartstrings. That this is another attempt to drag her through the mud for how she feels, despite their camaraderie and friendship that's flourished since that first time. It's his own fault for how he acted back then, and it's his own fault that it's stuck with her all this time and made her doubt their connection.

He wants to fix it.

More than anything else, he wants to make her feel secure. He wants her to know that he would never do anything on purpose to hurt her again, not so long as he lived.

"I mean it."

With all the care he can muster, he urges her face up, so that he can look her in the eye as he says it. She's on her guard, barely, and that fills him with hope. She wants to believe him.

"I love you. I love you. I'll say it as many times as I must. I love you. I'm beyond grateful that you could love me, too." He kisses her, softly, feeling his heart pick up speed when she returns it. "And I swear that I will never... ever use your love in any way that would hurt you. I would sooner fall from the heavens and lose every godly gift that I possess."

She's quiet, eyes closed as she takes his words in. The beat of his heart is almost too loud to hear her when she speaks, but her voice could reach him through anything.

"That's a big commitment coming from someone like you," she says, peeking at him through her lashes. Her words are almost biting, but the traces of her earlier teasing remain, setting him at ease.

"I know. But I met this terribly annoying mortal who's touched my heart, you see..." That draws her smile back, and he comes so close to it that their lips are just a breath apart. "I've come to love her rather terribly."

She closes the distance, holding the kiss for as long as it takes her to believe him. It doesn't last very long.

"I'm sure she loves you, too."

"I hope so. It would be too tragic otherwise."

"Almost as tragic as how filthy you are right now."

He grins, rubbing his face against hers and making their mess spread between them. Her hand comes up to force him away again, laughter bubbling back up.

"You really are awful."

"I know." He inclines his head in agreement. "But you love me anyhow."

"I do."

Her admission sends a thrill through him, and his desires rekindle tenfold.

"You know... There's an easy fix to this," he says, gesturing to their icing-smeared bodies and clothes.

Her looks is almost as devilish as his own.

"Shower?"

"Shower."

His smirk is downright wicked as he hooks his arms around her and lifts her from the ground, enjoying her shriek of enjoyment. He enjoys it almost as much as he idea of them in the shower together- something they've only done a few times before, and... well, he'd never gone into it with the intention of being dirtier under the water rather than clean.

But as he's come to learn through her, there's always the opportunity to change and do something new.

Even for an old god like him.

#lovestruck voltage #lovestruck #astoria: lost kisses #astoria: fate's kiss #labyrinths of astoria #afk eros #eros x mc #afk mc #astoria #my fic

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lexstellaris · 1 year

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Daily Draw - 1/5/23 - Sacred Rebels Oracle (Alana Fairchild)

43 - Come To Life

Not a card I've drawn before, but I do rather love the imagery. She's painting herself in colour, using her own agency to make herself alive. I can't help but see the monkey as an avatar of Djehuty, and the crow/bird as Hekate. I love the detail of the small tufts of grass poking up through the tiles. The butterflies, too, are a common symbol of transformation.

There's a lot of challenge in this card for me, bc I am often good at putting off things I ought to do out of dumb fears my brain has about things not going well, or going too well, so I just don't do them. But at least this card pull has spurred me on to do a couple of things I've been putting off, and it does remind me that I'm the one in charge of my life. If it's shit, well, what are you going to do about that to make it not shit? Sure, some things are outside of my control, but there's still some things I can control, and tbh, even though I did have a bit of a low period today for various reasons *gestures at the world* I still feel good about where I'm going.

I feel good about the routine I'm making, too. My brain doesn't want to push against it. Even though we had ppl over for tea, and maybe I got to my rites later than I would have liked, I still did them. I wanted to do them. And that, to me, is a sign I've got this working right.

For so long over the past four years, I've often felt so disconnected from my gods and my practice. And to feel that connection again? To feel daily rites finally come easy to me again after so many years of it just failing on me? That's a good feeling. Fandom can keep me going, but the gods are what truly nourish me.

And this card, like so many things in my life right now, is just poking at me to Do The Things. bc sometimes I do need poking. But this card in particular talks about letting everything just flow, and expressing myself through journalling or other creative expressions. To let the emotions be felt. And I def think that's part of why I wanted to do my daily draws this way. To actually sit down and write out my own thoughts and reflections on the cards and their meanings, bc I am so frequently shit at this kind of thing on my own. Ask me to journal my feels, and I won't be able to manage it. But having a prompt in the form of a card is definitely the framework I needed. And being able to just share these on tumblr as well makes it easy. I don't need a fancy notebook. Don't need to fret about what happens when I fill up a notebook and where to store them. Just post here, and write, and let everything flow out as it wants to.

The oracle finishes with this:

"The message of this card is 'Be alive!" Don't imagine you can go back to sleep. You are too awake for that now. There is no falling back into odl ways. If you do so, it will be short lived and won't feel the same as it used to. You may grieve this. You will certainly (eventually) celebrate it. You have crossed the threshold from an old way of being in an old life and try as you might, you cannot return. It is better to let it go. Grieve if needs be, celebrate if needs be or do both and move on into thei moment. Ther eis another adventure awaiting you now. You need a deeper connection to your own instincts, body, feelings, and intuitions so that you can receive this new calling. You can trust in it, too. Embrace it and it will embrace you."

And like, if that doesn't sum up the entirety of where I am now, well. I do feel this has been in progress since the pandemic hit, though. It brought on necessary changes that I'd been too scared to adopt or to try for, things that I needed to be forced into doing. It's why I call myself Lex now. I'd grown out of Sasha. They served me well for a very long time, but it's not who I am anymore.

And I keep thinking of a line I wrote in a transfic a while ago, "I don't know how to be that version of me yet." bc that's still so true for me. I'm in this odd place of knowing, and not knowing, and fighting against barriers not of my own making that make it difficult for me to really thrive. I don't know how to be me yet. But I can't go back. I am who I am now, and that's just how things are.

And I do feel that. I feel those urges to Do Things and push and get myself unstuck. It just sometimes feels like the hardest thing in the world to do. Maybe, with time, it won't feel so hard. idk.

(also that transfic linked about is like, allllll my pandemic gender feels compressed into like 4k words of fic about block game men so. *throws hands up*) (I also think it's arguably one of the best things I've ever written)

#daily draws #sacred rebels oracle #reflective writing #transformation #gender feels #unsticking myself #daily rituals #sobek #hekate

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im-still-watching-anime · 3 years

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me banging on kishimotos door at 2am: why did you make sakura’s bangs as a child a symbol of her lack of self-confidence and then have ino help her overcome it BUT then give sakura bangs again during the war arc when she was reunited with sasuke and clearly made to be self-conscious and feel inferior in the face of him and naruto?? why did you literally put the symbol of discomfort back into her design around sasuke - her love interest - when it blatantly contrasts the safety and confidence she gains around ino who helps her overcome that obstacle??? which one sounds more romantic?? which one sound more healthy?? OPEN THE DOOR—

#naruto #naruto shippuden #sakuino #inosaku #sakura haruno #yamanaka ino #fourth great ninja war #yall….im tired #every time i see sakuras war bangs i get pissed off #god it would have been such good writing if that had symbolized her moving past sasuke #ughhhh the PLOT #literally reconfronting her flaws and choosing self worth and realizing she deserves better #ughhhhh i think about how fucking awful sakura was treated as a character every day of my life #shes so so so good and then they just repeatedly ruin her ughhhhhh #like i didnt totally despise sasusaku in the og series but god they should have let her move on in shippuden #she deserved the character growth #also ino was RIGHT THERE #ughhhhhhhhhhhh #sorry for the tag rant #my posts #anti sasusaku #sorry kind of a negative post i can add more warning tags as needed #i completely get wanting to filter stuff like this so if anyone wants any additional tags just let me know

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rubysunnday · 4 years

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artemis and apollo

Requested by Anon - Hello! I love your bridgerton sister fics! I totally get if your too busy with requests but I would love a fic where the sister is put in some kind of danger (a guy is harassing her or something) and her big brothers save the day

A/N: this isn’t a part of my 1.5K celebration but I’ll shove it in with them. I throughly enjoyed writing this.

It was terrifying.

Eloise was with her - and complaining about it every other second - but that didn’t change just how terrifying it was.

Everyone was looking at her.

Which, considering she was a Bridgerton and was, apparently, the ‘Diamond’ of that season, was understandable.

It was still terrifying.

“They’re not going to eat you, Y/N,” Colin whispered, a cheeky smile on his face as he leant closer to his sister.

“They might,” Y/N replied, shifting fractionally closer to Colin. She felt safer with her brother’s around (mainly because they intimidated any man who came within five feet of her). “Men could be predators. In fact, I think they are.”

Colin chuckled and grabbed her hand. “Stop panicking. I won’t leave your side, ok?”

“Unless Mother makes you,” Y/N replied, ever the pessimist. “I just... I don’t trust people I’ve never met. Especially men I’ve never met before. It’s a woman thing,” she added, noticing Colin’s slightly blank look. “I trust you and Anthony and Benedict to look out for me but once I’m engaged in a dance with a man, there’s no escape.”

Colin nodded. “Message received - do not leave you alone with strange men and do not let you dance with strangers.”

Y/N elbowed her brother in the stomach and he let out a grunt that turned a few heads. Colin coughed but straightened his waistcoat and cleared his throat.

“I think that was slightly unnecessary,” he muttered.

“I disagree,” Y/N replied haughtily. “I think it was entirely deserved.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh and tried not to let her disappointment at being forced to attend the ball obvious.

“Oh, hello,” Colin whispered into her ear. “Prince Nikolai is coming this way.”

Y/N perked up. Prince Nikolai was a distant nephew of Queen Charlotte and, perhaps, one of the sweetest men she’d ever met. Whilst Y/N and Nikolai had reached an understanding that neither one wanted to marry the other, they were still good friends and often danced with one another at balls to pass the time.

“Miss Bridgerton, Mr Bridgerton,” Nikolai greeted.

Y/N curtsied. “Your Royal Highness,” she said, standing up. “How are you tonight?”

“I’m very well, thank you Miss Bridgerton.” Nikolai looked at Colin. “I was wondering if you I could do you the honour of being your first dance tonight?”

Y/N smiled and nodded. “Of course, Your Royal Highness.”

Y/N took her arm out of Colin’s and accepted Nikolai’s. She gave her brother a brief, fleeting look as she headed for the dance floor and Colin gave her a reassuring smile in return.

“I do hope you don’t think me to forward, Miss Bridgerton, but I’ve heard some rumours regarding the Earl of Suffolk.”

Y/N closed her eyes momentarily. “Oh, yes. Him.”

The Earl of Suffolk was a presumptuous, prick of a man. He thought himself better than everyone else and assumed he could have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

Y/N, being the diamond of the season, had attracted the Earl’s attention. He’d put himself forward as a potential suitor and had even proposed and whilst a more naive girl than Y/N would be attracted to his title and money, Y/N suspected something wasn’t quite right with the Earl.

All it took was Anthony and her mother to ask around before discovering that the Earl’s ex-wife had died under mysterious circumstances two years previously. They'd only been married a year and it was rumour that his wife was barren.

Anthony had immediately put his foot down and refused the Earl’s proposal. Y/N had been grateful for her big brother but with the Earl still lurking around - and apparently very angry at the Bridgerton's - Y/N dreaded running into him.

“Did I speak out of turn?” Nikolai asked, looking at her in concern as they slowly danced around the room.

“No, no,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “My brother, Anthony, took control of the situation but something tells me that the Earl isn’t going to give up so easily.”

“If there’s anything I can do to assist you, please let me know,” Nikolai said, flashing a smile at her.

The song ended and Y/N smiled at him. He escorted her off the floor but was immediately overwhelmed by the debutantes and their mothers.

The mention of the Earl of Suffolk had put Y/N back on edge. She kept to the side of the room as she tried to make her way to her brothers, keeping her head down and hiding amongst the numerous guests.

She spotted Benedict in the corner with Eloise and turned to go in his direction when she spotted the Earl obviously looking for a Bridgerton. He spotted Benedict and began marching over to him with a furious expression on his face. Not wanting to be caught up in the argument that was sure to follow, Y/N turned on her heel and headed outside onto the terrace.

Outside was significantly cooler than inside. The sun had only just set and the moon was lighting up the terrace in a cool glow. Dotted around the terrace were numerous fire pits that lit up the gardens and provide enough light for an unchaperoned walk around. There were also a few footmen and servants outside including a lone violinist who was playing a soft tune.

Taking a chance - and assuming she would be watched by the few people and servants outside - Y/N descended the stairs to the garden and walked around it.

It didn’t have tall, sprawling hedges, merely short ones dotted with flowers or bunches of holly. There was a beautiful statue of Artemis set in the middle of the rose garden and Y/N found herself staring up at it in admiration.

Y/N and Colin were both big fans of the Greek mythology. Colin, being a man, got to study it in detail at university and upon his arrival home had imparted everything he knew on to his younger sister.

The two had spent hours together reading numerous stories and staring at paintings of the gods and goddesses.

Y/N had found herself relating to Artemis. The goddess of wild animals, the hunt, chastity and childbirth, Artemis had become a symbol of protection to Y/N and she’d tried to model herself on the myth.

“Miss Bridgerton, there you are.”

Y/N froze. She closed her eyes and forced herself to turn around and look at the Earl of Suffolk.

“My Lord,” she said, forcing herself to curtsey to the man. “What can I do for you?”

“I wondered if we might have a word?” The Earl said, stepping closer. “It’s just... your brother -”

“The matter is settled, Your Lordship,” Y/N said, stepping back. “My brother made my wishes, and his, very clear to you.”

The Earl tilted his head. “Do you think yourself... better than me?”

Y/N sighed softly, not wanting to take the bait and incite the man. “I think I should head back to the ball.”

She tried to walk past him but he snatched her wrist and pulled her to a sharp halt.

“Let go of me!” Y/N exclaimed, trying to pull away.

“You will marry me, Miss Bridgerton,” the Earl snarled, pulling her closer. “Because you will have no other choice.”

Y/N felt herself panicking. Panicking so much she wasn’t sure what to do. She tried to wriggle out from his grasp but his grip was tight and painful.

The Earl held her tight against him and Y/N did the only thing she could think of.

She kicked him in-between the legs.

The Earl grunted and immediately let go of her as he fell to his knees.

“Y/N!”

Y/N turned around saw her three brothers running towards her from across the garden. She quickly made distance between herself and the Earl and all but flung herself into Anthony’s arms as he reached her side.

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking her in the eye.

Y/N nodded even though her entire body was shaking. “Yes, I am now.”

Anthony nodded and gave her a quick squeeze. He handed her over to Colin as he and Benedict approached the Earl with matching steel cold looks on their faces.

“Are you sure you are alright?” Colin asked, tilting her head up to check she wasn’t injured.

“I’m fine, Colin,” Y/N promised, resting her head on his chest. “A little shaken but still in one piece. He didn’t get far enough to do anything,” she added.

Colin hugged her to him tightly and kissed her head. Y/N turned her head slightly and glanced behind her at the statue of Artemis.

The sound of a fist hitting someone’s face turned her attention back to the Earl and she tried not to look too pleased at the beating his face had taken from her two brothers.

“Come on,” Anthony said, shrugging his coat off and wrapping it around Y/N’s shoulders. “Let’s go home.”

Y/N reached over and grabbed Benedict’s hand as Anthony guided her across the garden and towards the side gate. Her three bodyguards protected her from anyone who was watching and soon they were walking down the front stairs to their carriage.

Benedict helped Y/N in and then sat on her right, Colin on her left. Y/N, who usually nagged her brothers about personal space and forced them to sit opposite her, said nothing. She shifted down in the seat and dropped her head on to Benedict’s shoulder, pulling Anthony’s coat tighter around her shoulders.

Anthony climbed in and sat opposite them with unhidden fury on his face. He glanced at his sister and it all disappeared, replaced by a soft and concerned expression.

Y/N smiled at him and nodded once. She reached out her foot and bumped his leg with her toe, reassuring him a bit more.

Benedict moved fractionally closer to Y/N and she felt herself feeling ever so thankful for her brothers.

Just like Artemis had Apollo, Y/N had Anthony, Benedict and Colin to protect her until her dying day.

#bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton sister #bridgerton!sister #bridgerton!sis #sister!reader #platonic imagine

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

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sleeping beauty

— You struggle to find a time to have sex with your beloved Aizawa. Unfortunately or fortunately, the only time you can fuck him is when he’s deep asleep.

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pairing: aizawa shouta x yandere fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, yandere!reader, non-con somnophilia, hairy aizawa rights, recording

word count: 4,201

a/n: mark ur calendar, im getting my nipples pierced nov 8. you bet ur ass imma write a bunch of nipple pierced readers from there on out. pray that my family never finds out about my nipples tho LMAO if they do,,, it;ll be ripped out of my boobies without a seconds hesitation

kinktober day 19 main kink: somnophilia | kinktober masterlist

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Aizawa was always busy.

Over the past ten years of knowing him, the two of you had been close. You were a good friend to him, someone he wouldn’t absolutely avoid at all costs when you walked through the hallways of UA, someone he wouldn’t mind rambling to him about their long day. Of course, you knew that you weren’t his closest friend, and to a certain degree, that upset you.

You had met Aizawa when you had first been a high school student; at the time, you were merely fifteen years old. He was twenty, only five years older than you, but he took your breath away from the first team-up. He had been tall, dark, and brooding, and your little coming out of an emo phase heart stood no chance. But, due to the age discrepancy, he was never anything more than a team member. Still, you held on.

You graduated from high school, made your impact as a sidekick, graduated to a Pro Hero, and offered a job at UA by the time you were twenty! So, for the past five years, you and Aizawa had been actual co-workers, and better yet, friends.

Aizawa indeed was one of a kind.

He still held the key to your emo school girl fantasy daydream, but you also discovered new sides and angles of him. You learned he was incredibly kind, thoughtful, and looked out for everyone, even if his gruff and sometimes rude mannerisms spoke otherwise. Although he tried to avoid any type of nonsensical drama like the plague, he was always caught up in it, which often amused you.

There was so much about Aizawa that you loved, so much that you adored and looked up to that it was no surprise that you figured your feelings of respect and admiration became love.

True, deep love.

As a third-year teacher at UA, you found that your interactions with Aizawa were quite limited. Not only because he was always being placed with a first-year class and said class moving on without him — something that only happened because he kept expelling the damn students — but because he was incredibly close with the first-year teachers.

You loved Present Mic and Midnight and All Might, don’t get it wrong! Your admiration, love, and respect for them were unprecedented, but you hated how much of Aizawa’s time they took.

“Sorry, Mic needs help with lesson plans for my class,” Aizawa apologized for postponing your lunch date, not a date.

“Sorry, Midnight needs help separating the problem children. Apparently, they’re growing an immunity to her quirk,” Aizawa grumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket before leaving your office where you both had been talking and drinking tea.

“Sorry, All Might—”

“It the class, your problem children, I get it,” you force a smile onto your face, trying not to show just how irritated and disappointed you were on how these days were going. Aizawa pauses for a second, his tired, dried out eyes trying to read and uncover the depths of emotions swimming in your eyes before he sighs and runs off.

But it went without saying that the people you hated most were Class 1-A.

The damn stupid, fucking, ungrateful class had already caused your beloved Aizawa to be hospitalized. The scar under his eye, a numbing reminder that you had nearly lost him, almost had to cry at his coffin with your feelings never once being uttered. They, without a doubt, took up his time the most.

He saw potential in all of them, none of them being failed or expelled by him thus far.

He spent countless hours up in the dead of night tracking each and every one of his student’s potential. Slaving away at his tablets to make sure that they all were feeling safe, heroic, and above all, they were headed to their individual greatness. So, although it would be two more years before you would have the opportunity to teach this class, you already had a vendetta against Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki. Those little shits always taking up your precious Aizawa’s time! He had never been this tired prior to them showing up!

But you never tried to think about it when you were with him.

You tried to openly accept your Aizawa’s new, incredibly busy schedule, and the moment the dorms appeared within UA, you found yourself more at ease.

To be frank, since you acknowledged your love for Aizawa at the mere age of twenty, and now at twenty-five, you had never taken on a lover or a one night stand. For years you had not allowed a person to grace you in bed or in their arms. It felt like you were betraying your love, and you would rather die than let that happen.

But the thing is, you are human, entirely susceptible to waves of uncontrolled horniness and lust.

In the beginning, sex toys worked.

You would press a vibrator to your clit, your toes digging into the mattress as your other hand shoved a silicone dildo into your aching, needy cunt. At first, it worked! You would cum with the thoughts of Aizawa being the dildo buried deep within you.

But eventually, you would find yourself at the peak of that orgasm, you knew the orgasm was right beyond the bend, just a step more, but you couldn’t get there. For weeks you realized that the vibrator, the dildo, and your fantasy thoughts weren’t enough. So, in your frustration, you began to search up audio plays of his narration at UA Sports Festival. Listening to his voice, ignoring Mics’ voice, to help coax you over that bend.

For a while, you were back to normal. Your highs and juices splattering all over your bed, a symbol of your lust and love for Aizawa as you gasped his name, wishing that the audio was real. But eventually, even the audios weren’t enough.

You craved Aizawa’s warmth, the feeling of his rough stubble against your sensitive skin, the throbbing of his cock buried deep within your womb, undoubtedly kissing your cervix. You wanted him; you needed your beloved.

As if by the grace of God, the moment you could no longer bring yourself to cum through that alone, the dorm system was put into place. And you, a teacher, were required to live on campus too. You tried not to think of Aizawa being a dorm away, tried not to feel the warmth fluttering under your skin when the two of you bid goodnight for the day.

You definitely tried to stay out of his room in the middle of the night.

God, you wish you could say that you stayed out of his room, but that would be a lie.

A big fat fucking lie.

It had started out innocently enough, you will claim.

You would see the exhausted man wave goodnight, grumbling that he needed to sleep now or else he would not wake up on time for homeroom tomorrow morning. You waved goodnight to him, trying to stay engrossed in a conversation you were having with Hound Dog. But an hour after Aizawa had gone to bed, you found yourself rushing away from the common room, explaining you had something to grade as you bid everyone goodnight.

Without a doubt, you ended up in Aizawa’s room that night.

In the darkness of the night, you watched the moonlight barely breach the thickness of his curtains to fall onto his face. You felt so warm as you stared at his slumbered face, your cheeks flushed as you watched his parted, chapped lips. You felt so light watching his chest rise and fall in a hypnotizing rhythm, reminding you that he is real, so very, very real. A part of you aching, knowing that he was entirely real and yet not yours. But still, you admired the way he looked so young, so intense, so ethereal as he dreamed.

You loved him.

Eventually, when you decided to leave, you pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling at the way his lips were exactly as you had imagined:

Supple, warm, and tasting of his mint toothpaste.

But the nightly visits didn’t stop there.

Most nights, you found yourself in his room, laying by his side, merely watching as he slept. No orgasm in the world felt quite as fulfilling as the quiet that came with just watching the over-exhausted Aizawa sleep.

But this is not a story of simple love, no, not at all.

Eventually, you began to grow bold. Your fingers sinking into your wet cunt, playing with your sensitive clit as you watched him sleep. You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning as a rasped breath expelled from his mouth. You nuzzled into the warmth of his body heat through at you and only prayed he would one day acknowledge and return your affections.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure when you began to suck him off too.

Maybe it was the first time his cock grew long and hard in the middle of the night, his mind undoubtedly having a wet dream. So, as his beloved, you only thought it was appropriate to give his body what he wanted. With the skills and intentions that could only arise from being a gifted Pro Hero, you pulled the blankets from his body and pushed his cock through the slit in his boxers, and took him all in your mouth.

His cock was absolutely mouthwatering too.

So big, so thick, so incredibly veiny that you nearly lost all control the first time you saw it in all its glory. He was better than any dildo you owned, his scent alone driving you crazy. And so, as you should, you began to fuck him, completely addicted to his aroma, taste, and touch.

After the first night, you continued to blow him. Continued to suck him off as Aizawa let out sleepy moans, grunts that were strained, his body shifting unknowingly as you continued to go up and down his length, continuing to relieve him of his stress.

But you were human.

A human with needs and desires, and eventually, his cum coating your throat and filling your stomach wasn’t enough anymore. Which is where we find ourselves now, unashamedly fucking Aizawa each and every night, your cunt swallowing him whole, without a single shred of doubt of what was wrong with this.

There wasn’t anything wrong with this, and you knew that even if he was asleep the entire time you fucked him, it was for the better.

“Wow, Eraser!” Mic yelled from your side as you sat on the couch next to your beloved best friend. “You look like you’re glowing!”

Looking up from your phone, attempting to portray yourself as curious and unknowing, you found your gaze falling onto Aizawa, who had returned from an early evening training session with his class. As a matter of fact, Aizawa’s face was glowing; he looked incredibly much more relaxed, much more than he has been since the beginning of this semester.

“What do you mean?” Aizawa asked, evidently unimpressed as a lone eyebrow raised.

You watched on quietly, lips pressing to your cup as you took a drink of your tea as he sank onto a seat in front of you.

“Wait, don’t tell me, listeners!” Mic gasped dramatically, his hands pressing to his cheeks as he stood up. His expression of shock and disbelief curling and becoming one of knowing and understanding. “Does our grouchy, one and only, Aizawa Shouta, a.k.a. Eraserhead, have a special someone?!”

“Mic—” Aizawa snapped, his eyebrows furrowing.

“There definitely has been an after-sex glow that Eraser has had for the past few weeks. He did say that he’s been feeling more… ahem, relaxed,” Midnight gasped, seemingly appearing from nowhere, incredibly interested in the rumor of Aizawa having sex.

“Just because I’ve been feeling less tense doesn’t mean that I’m having sex.”

You giggled into your cup as the three of them began arguing, Mic and Midnights naturally loud noise quickly drowning out Aizawa’s fruitless attempts to shut down any sexscapades they were coming up with.

“Y/h/n, what do you think?!” Mic yelled, his hand pointed at you as if holding a microphone as Aizawa had him pressed and tangled within his capturing weapon. “Is Shouta-chan having sex?!”

Yes, your mind begs to say, but your mouth curls into a teasing smile, eyes locking onto Aizawa’s annoyed golden ones.

“I don’t think there’s anyone on this earth that Aizawa currently wants to fuck six feet into the mattress when he’s so busy,” you chide, your smile never entirely disappearing. At the same time, you take a long slow drink from your cup while everyone else (Mic only, really) continued to scream.

But you stayed there for the rest of the evening, working in silence with the rest of the group as next week’s lessons were laid out. Through a persistent, entirely stubborn will, Mic managed to get Aizawa to admit that he hasn’t had sex since the time he lost his virginity, to which Mic admitted to having had sex via orgies only. Midnight proudly announcing that she had a side piece at her disposal.

So as you checked through your lesson plans for the ethics book your students would be reading next week, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see their expectant gazes on you.

“I had sex last night,” you admit, unable to lie under their amused gazes.

“WITH WHO?! ARE YOU SNEAKING SOMEONE ON CAMPUS?!”

For the rest of the night, you smiled brightly, laughing with the rest of them all as talks and stories revolving around sex filled the air. It lasted until past midnight, and with a heavy sigh, Aizawa excused himself first. You waved goodnight, and soon Midnight left, followed by Mic.

You stayed on the couch, your own attention focused heavily on the time and not what you were supposed to be doing. It didn’t take much before the time faded from 00:00 to 01:45, and with a brush of your skirt, you headed precisely where you wanted and needed to be.

The walk to his second-floor room filled you with lust. Your body, like some Pavlovian dog, trained and knowing that you were about to fuck the love of your life while he slept. He was so beautiful while he slept, a true sleeping beauty. You especially thought he was stunning when he bit his lower lip, stifling a moan despite his heavy slumber.

Without so much as a second thought, you apparated into his room, your feet cushioned by the soft carpet of his room. And with a smile that was dripping with your love, you stared at Aizawa’s sleeping form. He was already deep in sleep, his body positioned on his back as if he knew what you were doing, accepting the inevitable actions you would take tonight as you did every night. He just looked so calm, so beautiful, so youthful when asleep. The scar under his eye almost invisible

But unlike most nights where he slept in a soft cotton long-sleeved shirt and sweats, you froze at the sight of the tight black t-shirt on his sleeping form, the shorts that were riding just the slightest bit too low on his sturdy, muscled hips. Your bit your fist, a bubbling heat of lust, and a whine tickling the back of your throat as you take in his sleeping form.

He was doing this on purpose.

Teasing you with this outfit on his sleeping body.

You huffed, inexplicably turned on as the small puffs of air past his lips seemed to thunder around the room.

You were wet already, so very wet.

“You’re so mean, Shouta-kun,” you whimper softly, your voice silent and unheard by his sleeping form. You walk closer to the bed, lips pulled into a pout as you sit on the soft mattress. “Dressing up like that, I know you did that to tease me!”

Aizawa doesn’t respond because, of course, he’s asleep. But you smile regardless, imagining a million and three things he would say in response, each leading to what you wanted to do so desperately.

“I hope you know you were lying when you said you haven’t had sex since you were twenty,” you sigh, your fingers expertly removing his shorts and boxers from around his waist, using your quirk to make them reappear to the side of him. “We have sex practically every night; you’re so horny, my angel.”

You watch with a curling smile as his cock immediately begins to stiffen against your warm breaths, his face scrunching in his slight discomfort as his cock grows and grows. His cock is undeniably one of your favorite parts of his body. It’s pale in color, paler than the rest of his body, but as it extended to the swollen thickness of his head, it grew darker, the flushed brown pinkness of his head making you salivate at the memory of the first time you ever saw it. His cock, unlike the rest of his scarred body, was unharmed, unmarred by the horrors of the job the two of you held. The thick, beautiful smoothness of his skin, making your eyes flutter in unadulterated lust, his cock a symbol of your pure, unmarked love for him. You hum, hand grasping his length and lazily stroking him as your head tilts, reading his sleeping features for any sign of him enjoying this as much as you do.

“Aww, Shouta-kun, I wish you knew I fuck you. I bet you would turn bright red, knowing that I ride you every night. Maybe you’d use that weapon of yours to teach me a lesson or two,” you mumble, your hand gripping his cock harder as you stroke him.

A small glistening drop appears at the slit of his dick, and you shiver in excitement; he was already leaking pre-cum.

“Look at you, already ready to have my cunt wrapped around that big cock of yours,” you mewl, absolutely ready to mount him, prepared to have his sleeping form cum deep within you. You stand up, removing your shorts and panties, and climbing onto the bed.

With the balance of a pro, you get yourself hovering over him, your already wet cunt shivering with the expectance of having him deep within you. Your hand on his cock never once stopping as you tease yourself against his swollen head, your voice a pathetic whimper as your slick mixes with his clear pre-cum.

“S-See how embarrassing you are!” you huff, rutting his length between his folds, lubing him up for the initial entrance because, by god, it still hurt. “Making my pussy so wet! I’m practically dripping all over you!”

There’s only a soft breath from his lips, but you grin as if he was speaking to you.

“You want me too, huh?” you giggle, and without further adieu, you sink against him.

His cock entering your tight cunt was still as mind-numbing as the first time. His cock easily buries into the small, thin wall of your cervix, and you tremble as his length stretches and pulls at your throbbing core. You can feel every curve in his cock, every vein, every gentle throb.

“Glad t-to know you find me… nnghh… find me i-irresistible,” you pant, face flushed with your desire to adjust quickly around him.

The conversation from tonight had made you entirely weak in the knees and hot at your core, knowing that you were the only one to really have claimed Aizawa, the only one who would ever know how his sleeping body craved you as much as you desired him.

You give a tentative swirl of your hips, your eyes trained on Aizawa’s relaxed ones, testing to see how tired and sleepy he was. There was no reaction, no movement outside of the typical grunt at the back of his throat. It was a noise he always made when you first moved with him, a noise that quickly seared in the back of your memory forever.

Shifting your weight to be more comfortable on your knees, your hot hands fall onto his tight chest, and with a sigh of pure relief, you begin to fuck him.

Your straddling aided the deep penetration, allowing for the gentle kiss of the tip of his leaking cock to your thin cervix wall. You clenched tightly around him, unable to keep yourself from doing so as you rode him, the feeling of his throbbing member within you absolutely breathing taking as you placed your claim on him again, again, and again.

Aizawa was fully sheathed within you, and your fingers twisted and pulled at the tight fabric of his shirt, raising it up so that you could admire his taut, tense abdomen, mewling at the way he’s happy trail was thick and bushy. You wondered how he would react to your fingers threading through his body hair, if he would love it; if he would hate it.

“I want you to know how much I love you, how much I would give everything to you!” you whimper, your head fighting the instinct to throw itself back as you begin to drop onto his still cock faster and faster. “I wish you knew that you fuck me so good, Shouta-kun; I need you to know that! But you won’t even look at me! You won’t spare me a single second of your busy day, so that’s why I have to fuck you at night!”

Tears of both pleasure and hurt well into your eyes; you sniffle as you fuck him faster, dropping onto his awaiting cock with more significant, more aggressive slaps. The sounds echo throughout the room, the musky, sweet smell of your sexes is the only thing keeping you sane — that and the grunting noises that Aizawa keeps emitting, it makes your toes curl and belly flutter in a funny way.

“I bet you’ll fuck me so good once I get you to love me! You’ll never stop fucking me, you’ll never want to leave me because only I know how to fuck you correctly!” you snap, anger and lust licking through your tone, making your eyebrows furrow and your walls to clench even tighter around him. The building tension in your stomach is like a fire, and you can feel your high coming. “But you fuck me so good, baby, so good and you’re not even awake!”

And for the first time, you watch in electrifying pleasure as a low, husky, raspy moan leaves his throat as you fucked him. The sound alone was something downright pornographic to you, and the whine that spills from your mouth is nearly inaudible with the pitch it vibrates at. So without so much as a second thought, a bubbling smile spreads on your face, and you continue on, energy and excitement doubled in your joy.

Your hips roll, rise, and fall against his with growing force and speed. The small creaks of the mattress completely ignored by you as the throbbing and twitching of his cock buried deep within you keeps you pushing for more. The heat and pressure in your belly grow exponentially, festering and burning until you can feel yourself at the tipping point until you can’t do anything but focus on Aizawa and only Aizawa, or else you would scream his name in your euphoria.

The veins on his cock and the overall girth of his length send your mind spinning, not at all helping your predicament, and in a last-ditch effort to keep yourself from crying so loudly you would wake up even the dead, you lean forward. Your sweaty body leaning down to his parted chapped lips as you kiss him to keep yourself silent as your orgasm crashes through you in a blissful wave. Your body spasms almost uncontrollably, the nerves and firing axons through your body uncontrollable as you lay there, allowing for Aizawa to cum before you leave. You shudder at the feeling of his cum emptying out within you, his cock immediately softening as you lay there on top of him. His heart racing with his orgasm, and you sigh contentedly.

“God, I love you so much, Aizawa Shouta; I’ll make you mine one day,” you swear, your nose nuzzling his stubbled cheek.

You lay there for some time, enjoying the way he feels in you, content with the pooling cum from your still spasming cunt. But eventually, you pull away. You pull on your panties and shorts quickly, not wanting a single drop more of his cum to seep out of you. Unable to help yourself, you lick the leftover cum on his cock clean with your tongue before wiping him down with a towel to prevent the smell from clinging.

Your eyes study Aizawa’s face just before you leave, and your smile.

He really does look less tired after orgasming.

But the entire time you were there — the whole night you fucked him and spoke to him — you missed the red blinking light of the camera recording in the corner of the room.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #tw: somnophilia #bbs kinktober 2020

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yelenasdog · 3 years

Text

moving out, moving on (mitch rapp x fem reader)

genre: fluff

summary: mitch and reader are taking another step towards mitch moving on, and it’s bittersweet.

words: 2.2k

warnings: drinking wine, kinda suggestive at times, talks abt katrina, mitch being emotional, my writing being melodramatic LOL

a/n: so. this was written during an all nighter that went to 7 am where i was listening to nicki minaj and eminem (???) for a good duration of it so. i’m very sorry if this is wonky at times! i hope u enjoy either way! mwah

🥍🥍🥍

The early morning rays streamed through thin fabric, draped above the assassin's window. Dust particles floated about, becoming visible within the section of light cast from the sun. The birds perched outside the small apartment tweeted happily from their branch, their songs beautiful.

Though, they were quite pesterous to the pair that lay together, wrapped in gray sheets. They reveled in the heat provided by the soft blanket, but even more so by the warmth from their joint bodies.

A mop of dark brown hair stirred, bringing one hand up to softly rub his eyes with his knuckle, the other hand snaking around the waist of the woman peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched with fond eyes as she lightly groaned, rolling to face away from the invasion of bright, turning towards her love.

Mitch smiled down at her sleepy behavior, reaching out and brushing stray hairs from her forehead. He reluctantly retracted it only moments later, forcing himself out of bed to go and prepare the two of them for their big day as best he knew how: Coffee.

His sock clad feet dragged across the hardwood as he went, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and groggy-ness (a word Y/n had donned as her own, and Mitch had caught on to) still very prevalent in his entire system.

The Rhode Island air was frigid this time of year, Mitch allowing a grin to break out on his face upon remembrance of two nights previous, just how cold Y/n had been in the arena of the Providence Bruins hockey team. Nose pink, donned in a beanie proudly showing the team's logo, well, he had found himself a new lockscreen.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of said groggy-ness, his body on autopilot as it made the beverages. He picked out her favorite mug from the cupboard (AKA a souvenir from Dubai he had picked up long ago) that she had adopted as her own, drinking out of it every time she would spend the night, almost like clockwork. He waited for his coffee beans to brew, scratching his stubble along his jaw. He flinched, though, when he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He quickly relaxed into the embrace upon realization of who the supposed assailant was, her head finding its way to rest on his bare shoulder.

“You scared me, there.” Mitch muttered, his larger hand inching towards her’s on his waist. He closed his eyes in content and she hummed in acknowledgment. Mitch allowed her to turn his figure to face her, still residing in her arms, seeing a bright smile plastered across her face.

“Only for a minute though, right?”

She laughed to which he chuckled in response, nodding in false surrender. “You’ve got me there, Y/n/n.” He mused, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the coffee machine beeping. He looked back to her, shrugging.

“I made you coffee, was gonna bring it to you in bed but, y’know.” He gestured to where she had now climbed up to sit on top of his counter, his sweatshirt around her that read “Brown University” across the front in large lettering pooling around her thighs.

“It’s alright, I need to get a move on anyway.” She smiled, hopping down to retrieve the mug, taking the warm ceramic from Mitch’s hands and sighing at the wondrous feeling that had spread through her whole body. She lifted it to her lips and drank, not surprised that her boyfriend had made it just the way she liked, to perfection.

“Thank you, baby.” She commented, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Her lip curled as she pulled away, Mitch already knowing what she was going to say, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.

“Mitch! Go brush your teeth, for the love of God!” She whined, watching as he scampered off towards the bathroom, snickering all the way. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of her beverage before following where Mitch had gone.

Once in the bathroom after rinsing her and Mitch’s mugs, she tied her hair up, undressing and turning on the water (practically scalding hot, of course). Mitch had no objections to the temperature, though, seeing as it was his last time showering with her in that apartment, and in that apartment, period.

The whole thing felt very symbolic to Y/n, at least, seeing it as washing themselves clean for the next phase of their lives together, a sort of preparation. (Maybe not so much for Mitch, who really was just pleased for any excuse to see his girlfriend naked.)

They used generous amounts of soap, as not only were most of them nearly empty (in fact, a few were and if it weren’t for Y/n, they probably all would be), but also that they had decided to simply just buy new toiletries as a whole for their new place.

They giggled at the sight of each other, all lathered in bubbles and suds. Mitch reached a finger forward, wiping it from above her eyebrows and preventing it from falling into her eyes. Y/n brought her arms around his neck, her lips connecting with his. “Much better.” She regarded with a smirk, before leaning back in.

Nearly 40 minutes later, they both emerged from the shower, fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. He didn’t have a lot that needed to be packed up, given that his place came fully furnished, so it took all but 2 hours and 5 boxes to pack up Mitch Rapp’s life. It honestly might have taken even longer than originally would have been needed, as Y/n would stop every time she found something interesting, allowing Mitch to tell her all about whatever stories had been connected to the item.

It had started with the ridiculous bird lamp that sat on his bedside table, once belonging to Mr. Nazir, and ended with his lacrosse stick. (And, a promise that one day, he’d show her how to play. He swore he’d never seen her smile that big.)

They also threw away and donated a lot, some of Kat’s old stuff bringing a pained smile to his face as he would place it in a box simply labeled “Kat” in messy, thick letters. He wasn’t sure if the box would end up in his new closet, covered in dust and unopened, or back with her family. But either way, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her completely, which Y/n was able to understand.

“Mitch? Did you pack away your coats already?” Y/n called out, opening up the closet near the front door. Her breath slightly hitched in her throat upon seeing all of the photos of Mansur, still pasted to the painted wood, the edges curling up.

“Nah, not yet, I was gonna handle that while you worked on the cupboards” He responded, busying himself with a text from Irene on his phone wishing him good luck. He looked up and saw what she had been asking about, his phone quickly sliding into his pocket as he made his way over to where she stood, visibly distressed.

“How long have these been here?” She questioned, feeling Mitch’s arms wrap around her shoulders. She brought her hands up to grasp onto his wrists, leaning backwards into him and biting into her lip.

“Since the beach, when I decided to go after Mansur. When everything happened with the CIA, it was kind of a whirlwind, I didn’t really have enough time to even think about taking it down when I was only even here for hours at a time.” He lightly chuckled, watching as she stepped forward and began to take the pictures down, crumbling them up in her hands.

She ran her fingertips over the indents left in the door, feeling the splinters against them. She turned back to Mitch, quipping how “Mr. Nazir won’t be too pleased about that.”

He smiled, joining her in taking all of the images down, ripping them or balling them up in his fists. All of them ended up in one of the old Target bags they had been using for trash, filling up an entire bag (minus a few Dunkin cups sitting at the bottom).

Mitch trailed a few tender kisses down the left side of her next, and though it sounds cheesy, a feeling of hopefulness flooded himself out of most of the bitterness that had been stuck inside for so long.

She turned her head to catch his lips with her own, and smiled into the kiss, her hand finding the back of his head. She lightly tugged on the chocolate colored strands and he groaned in content, to which her grin only widened. She pulled back, ruffling the top of his head before beginning to pack away the remnants of what was left in the closet. He rolled his eyes, following suit.

They had piled all of the boxes into the back of Mitch’s old decommissioned CIA vehicle (which was obvious that is was such, given that the side was littered with bullet holes and metallic scratches), returned the key to Mr. Nazir (who was glad to see Mitch go), and with that, they were off.

The new place wasn’t too far away, the pair taking a page out of Stan’s book and opting for a wonderful sense of privacy. It was nestled in a rural corner of Massachusetts, where Mitch would be able to come home to a sense of serenity. Y/n had already moved in her possessions, Mitch’s items being the last step. They’d also furnished the cozy cabin, trips to IKEA and Urban Outfitters (along with several other over-priced boutiques) making the place feel like a perfect fit for the couple.

Mitch’s strange and varied knick knacks made the house feel like a home, his lacrosse stick finding a new home by the front door, right under a hanging potted plant that Y/n and Mitch had decided to affectionately name “Charles” after a drunken night watching the X-Men movies. The house was littered in plants such as Charles, in fact, with Mitch’s first response to seeing all of them being “Wow, looks like a greenhouse in here.”

(Still, he’d grown to love the plant babies. Trust me.)

Two tired smiles made their ways to their faces as they both sat on their new sofa, admiring a job well done. Though several boxes still lay on the hardwood, unopened, they felt accomplished enough to pull out a bottle of wine that they had been saving for the occasion. It was an early housewarming gift from Stan, to which they were unprepared to take advantage of, it seemed.

“Baby, did we unpack the wine glasses earlier?” Mitch questioned, his mind slightly foggy of the day's events and early start.

“No, I think they’re still packed up.” She replied, to which Mitch’s eyes lit up, an idea forming and an imaginary lightbulb popping up over his head. He got up from his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. Her expression mirrored his own, with an added quirked brow at his antics.

“I’ve got a solution, wait here.” Mitch responded, padding over to where he had remembered the new home of the mugs to be. Upon realization of what he was doing, Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up to run through her roots.

He shuffled back over moments later, his girlfriend recognizing one of the mugs in his hands as her favorite. He sat down next to her, with the bare skin of her thighs touching his own, jean clad. He bumped his knee to hers with a giggle, pouring out the Pinot Grigio into the mugs.

She gratefully accepted it as it was handed to her, smiling as she took a sip. Mitch did the same, the two of them leaning back into the soft sofa. Y/n brought her legs up, cuddling into his side and absorbing his warmth. He brought his free hand to her side, a strong hold giving them both a strong sense of comfort as she lay her head on his shoulder.

The box labeled “Kat” remained unpacked along with the others on the floor, dust already beginning to gather. Mitch had come across it a few times that day, each time more thoughtful than the last as he struggled to decide what it was exactly he was feeling towards the objects; or perhaps towards the memory of Katrina.

He had come to realize that it was acceptance he felt, deep in his stomach, settling down. It had been brought upon him in totality over time, today’s events being the final step. A soft smile spread across Mitch’s face, a single tear falling from his eye. Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Mitch, are you alright?”

He leaned down, connecting their lips in a watery yet nectarous kiss, his hand beginning to rub small circles on her shoulder.

“Yeah, Y/n/n.”

The fire they had built earlier was roaring, now, casting a warm glow across the pair’s features. The damp trail down his cheek was highlighted, nearly glistening on his skin like an amber.

“I’m doin’ just fine.”

🥍🥍🥍

ok btw ik that wine in mugs would be a horrible idea but this is fiction so SHUSH

anyway i hope yall enjoyed! i love writing for mitch and i have lots of future fics for him, so if u liked this, please reblog and follow if ya wanna. mwah, go drink water and have some protein <333

xx hj

#mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp imagine #american assassin fic #american assassin fanfiction #american assassin imagine #dylan obrien imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brian imagine #mitch rapp x y/n #stiles x reader #we will rock queue #yelenasdog

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kaimxri · 3 years

Text

You were gone.

(Past) Bucky Barnes x F!Reader, Steve Rogers x F!Reader

A/N: Hi!!! I thought of this a couple days ago and had a hard time writing it down, but I think I've finally got it! It’s a lil short, but go easy on me! I haven’t written in a few years!

Warning(s): Angst, Sad ending?

Era: One week after the events of Avengers:Endgame

Masterlist

Third Person POV

"What do you mean she's not mine?" "I'm sorry, Buck. You were gone. For five years. We all thought you were dead. Steve.. he looked after me, gave me a home and someone to talk to. I know what it looks like, but I promise you, it took me a long time to move on from you."

Bucky looked broken. The one good thing he had going for him in his life, is no longer his. Now it belongs to the white picket fence of his best friends home. Their home. That they share with their daughter. He couldn't believe it, any of it. All he could feel, aside from the cracking of his heart, was the betrayal of his lifelong friend marrying his girl. As if that wasn't enough to tear his heart to shreds, in his absence a new piece of their happy little puzzle was formed. A little baby, Jess Rogers. It was clear the baby was Steve's, blonde hair, blue eyes. And just like his lifelong 'friend', she had the same green strike running through her iris.

"I'm sorry.. I just.. I thought our love could conquer anything-" "Did you really expect me to just wait for you? For five years?"

He was taken aback. Sure, he didn't expect her to wait around, but to marry his best friend? All within 5 years? It hurt to know she could move on and start a new life for herself without him in that short amount of time.

"I promised to love you til the end, I'd have thought you would've done the same. We were together for two years, I was going to propose. We were going to be a family, Y/N. But I guess you've already been and done that, haven't you? Moved on with a guy you hardly knew, forgot all about me didn't yo-" "Forgot about you? I buried you. Steve buried you. We got closer because of you. You were dead and I was scared. And alone. I moved across country to be with you, and Steve took me in. He saved me, and I love him. And he loves me."

She had him there. God, he never even thought about her. What she must've gone through. She was right, of course she was. Moved all the way here to be with me, and it's neither of their faults that he got blipped and she didn't. He didn't want to think it, but some part of him was glad that Steve was there to care for her. That's what he always asked him, isn't it? Every time he left for a mission, he'd always ask; 'Take care of my girl if something happens, Rogers?' And Steve would do anything for his best buddy. But when Steve Rogers lost his Bucky, he gained someone else. Y/N. But even Steve would admit he never had any intentions of ending up where they are now, that this is the way things ended. He's so happy with his life, he never thought he could be happy in an era that he wasn't born to thrive in. Yet, in Jess' baby blue eyes, he can see hope. Not only for himself, but for his wife and child. Their relationship formed amongst their mutual grief. Although he felt deep pain when he saw Y/N, he couldn't help to fall for her. How couldn't he? She was perfect for him.

But Bucky couldn't think about any of that. All he knew was last week he had his girl and a gold & green ring hidden in his back pocket. Now, all that decorates her ring finger is a silver and blue symbol of her commitment to someone else.

"Look, Bucky. We can talk about this inside, yeah?," She lightly grazed his shoulder, but he flinched away like she had set a flame to his skin, "Please, Buck. Steve's here too. We can talk about this together-" "No. There's nothing to talk about anymore. Truth is, I'm so damn in love with you that I don't know what to do with myself now." "I'm sorry, James. Truly. But I don't know what to do anymore. The new chapter in my life has started, and I'm deeply upset that it's not with you. Please, you can't take it out on us. We couldn't predict what was going to happen. We thought there was no chance you were coming back. We moved on, can't you be happy for me? That I didn't spend my life mourning the life we could have had?" "I'm sorry too, Y/N. But I don't think I can see you or Steve for a while. I need to learn to move on. Congratulations, for everything. Jess is beautiful."

With that, he turns to head back down the path, before a thought crosses his mind. "If I had asked you to marry me.. What would you have said?" "Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?"

He knew it wouldn't change anything, but he just needed to know.

"I can take it."

Y/N launches herself from the doorway to her shared home and kissed her old lover like she was never going to have the chance again, because it truly was the last kiss they'd ever share. Memories are relived through the mere seconds they spend entwined with one another. She leaned away, but Bucky leaned in, for he knew once she left his arms, this love was truly over. All good things must come to an end, Y/N retreats back to her doorway, and simply says;

"Does that answer your question?"

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers imagine #angst #marvel angst #marvel imagine #marvel masterlist #marvel fanfic rec #fanfic

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wicked-mind · 3 years

Text

Soulmates

Summary: Soulmates are connected on a deeper level emotionally and physically. They can feel what the other needs and wants. As hints, the universe grants tattoos on your skin to help you find your soulmate. When Bucky’s soulmate tattoo appears out of the blue, he knows that she is about to come into his life, but the way she does is not what he was expecting.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Small bit of violence, swearing, little bit of drinking.

All Writings Masterlist

Note: This is a potential series so if you would like more, let me know! 10 points to anybody who knows what Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children is from as well as Weasel (;

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated❤️

*gifs not mine

Chapter One - Tattoos

Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children, the place where the bad and ugly went to escape. It had been turned into a bar years ago after the actual school got shut down for child abuse, and this was the main spot mercenaries-for-hire went to get jobs.

At the end of the bar quietly sat Y/N, drinking a bottle of beer. She wore black leggings with a grey guns-n-roses shirt with cut off sleeves, showing off her left tattooed arm. The tattoo had appeared one day out of the blue, stretching from her shoulder down to her fingertips. It covered every inch of skin on her arm and hand, even the palm. It was mostly black and white swirls that looked like smoke with pictures of dog tags, a freight car and some Russian words as well as the numbers seventeen, nine, and one. On her shoulder laid the only color the tattoo had, a maroon star. This was the tattoo that symbolized Y/N’s soulmate, though that didn’t matter to her. She had other things to focus on than finding someone to spend her life with.

Y/N had been hired by an unknown source to steal information from the Avengers, something to do with a James Buchanan Barnes, whoever the hell that is. They were paying her a lot of money to get the information and Y/N couldn’t pass up the amount they offered. Things had been slow for her lately, the world must’ve been running out of scumbags to take care of.

“You want another?”

The bartender known as Weasel broke Y/N’s concentration with the question, making her eyes snap to his face, “Sure. I’m going to need to be a little tipsy to fit in at Stark’s gala. I don’t think walking in there looking like a raging bitch is going to work.” She muttered out to him, sliding her empty beer bottle towards him and caught the filled one that was slid back to her.

“You got invited to the Stark gala?” Weasel asked curiously with wide eyes.

“God no, do I look like a prissy pants woman who’d be invited to something like that?” Y/N replied then took a large gulp of the beer, “I’m sneaking in, got a job to steal some information.”

Weasel shook his head, “Wait. So, you’re going to just walk into the billionaire’s gala full of super persons and just expect to steal information from them?”

Y/N shrugged at him, “Well, yeah. What? You think it’ll be hard?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Weasel blinked at her, trying to decide if she was being serious, “Nah, should be a cake walk.” He said sarcastically, “All you have to do is get past the billionaire robot man,”

“I think he calls himself Iron Man.” Y/N corrected with a scrunch of her nose

“Iron Man, two super soldiers, some bird dude, two assassins, and whoever else decides to show up. Shouldn’t be hard at all.” Weasel said with a roll of his eyes before walking away, “I’m putting your name on the dead pool!” He called behind his shoulder as he walked.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, “You must be a groupie to know the whole squad!” She yelled towards him before finishing chugging the rest of the beer. She checks her phone, almost time for the gala. She would have to change into something nice and find someone man’s arm to hang onto so she could sneak in.

——

The soulmate tattoo had appeared on Bucky’s right forearm a days ago. He thought he didn’t have a soulmate since one had never shown up, but then he woke up to a burning on his right arm as the tattoo slowly appeared. It was the queen of hearts playing card with a knife stuck through it surrounded by Marigolds. He stared at his forearm for a moment, wondering why it had shown up now instead of sooner. Something must’ve changed in his and his soulmate’s path that would bring them together. Buck reluctantly pulled on his long sleeved black jacket, having to look nice for Tony’s party. He hated these events, but had just cleaned things up with Stark and wanted to keep on the right path with making his amends and becoming a better person. He walks out of his room with a slight scowl on his face, walking to the elevator and heading down to the main floor where the party was. He quickly found a spot at the end of the bar where he could hide for the rest of the night to drink whiskey and not be bothered.

Y/N had changed into a long, tight black dress and some black heels. The dress had her arms covered so only her hands showed, the left one heavily tattooed. The back of her hand had the number seventeen tattooed on it while the inside of of her palm was just tattooed with what looked like smoke dancing up to her fingertips. She was hanging onto the arm of some man she had just learned the name of, flirting her way to get inside the gala with him. She quickly lost him in the crowed, losing her smile when she departed from him. Y/N scanned the room before spying what she would figure would be an easy target at the bar to take her upstairs. She pulled out lipstick from the small hand held purse she was holding, putting some on her lips careful not to ingest it. It had a paralyzing agent in it that would help her get to the information she needed. She approached the handsome man and introduced herself under a fake name, “I’m Michelle.” She said with a smile to him. Y/N learned his name was Sam and after a little bit of flirting, she was walking to the elevator with him giggling and holding his hand.

Bucky had watched the mystery girl named Michelle approach. He narrowed his eyes at her, something about her was different. Something drew him to her and he couldn’t figure out what. He couldn’t help but feel a slight disappointment and jealousy watching Sam take the woman to the elevator. His stomach turned slightly thinking of Sam touching such a woman and he couldn’t figure out why. He usually didn’t care about who his friends bedded but something was pulling him towards her.

Y/N waiting until the elevator doors shut, turning to Sam and pushing him up against the wall. She slowly pulled on his tie to make him lean towards her and kissed him, smiling slightly as she felt his body slump against her in a paralyzed state before falling to the ground, “Sorry, sweetness. You seemed like a good time.” She told the now paralyzed man on the floor. She quickly slid the dress off, revealing black shorts and a matching black tank top. She had a gun strapped to one thigh and throwing knives on the other. Her heels followed, being kicked to the corner of the elevator. Barefoot was going to have to work, she despised heels. Y/N pulled a queen of hearts playing card out of her bra and placed it on Sam’s shoulder with a smile towards his brown eyes that stared at her widely. When the elevator doors open, Y/N waltzed out of the elevator and towards the nearest lab she could find.

Bucky had enough whiskey that was never enough to get him drunk and watching the guests mingle. Plus he was still irritated that he couldn’t figure out why it bothered him so much that Sam had taken some woman he had never seen before up to his bedroom. He walked to the elevator doors, clicking the button. He froze when he saw Sam on the floor just staring at him with wide eyes and tying to form words from his paralyzed lips. Bucky went in and leaned down, the doors closing behind him, “What happened to you, bird brain?” He muttered out before noticing the red lipstick and the queen of hearts playing card, quickly thinking back to the woman. He picks up the card, freezing as it looked just like the one of his soulmate tattoo before seeing the dress the mystery woman had been wearing on the floor. Returning to his senses when Sam was able to mumble ‘floor three, buck,’ he quickly hit the floor three button, dropping the card to the floor before exiting.

Y/N stood in front of the computer, typing codes to shut down Jarvis’s security system and rerouting the AI whenever it tried to reprogram. She quickly searched through all personnel files, finding the one labeled ‘James Buchanan Barnes- Winter Soldier.’ Y/N pulled a flash drive out of her pocket and plugged it in, downloading the information. Hearing the door behind her open, she grabs a throwing knife from the strap on her right thigh, throwing it with her tattooed hand towards the tall dark haired man that had entered.

Bucky caught the knife with ease, leaning his head back away as the blade passed before he caught it. He kept his eyes on the woman in front of him, studying her. His eyes snaked up the tattooed covered left arm, his eyes widening at the pictures, numbers, and Russian words that painted across her smooth skin in bold black. They were his words, things that were significant to him. Then he saw the red star on her shoulder, staring intently.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at the man, watching him study every inch of her tattoo. She rolled her eyes slightly, grabbing the flash drive and tucking it back in her pocket. Based on the file she just went through, this was James Barnes. Her eyes quickly moved to red hair walking up from behind the man, a smile flashing across Y/N’s features, “Ah, Natalia. I heard you were part of the super squad now. How’d graduation go?” Y/N asked the redheaded woman, her eyebrow twitching upwards for a moment. Y/N knew the woman who now went by Natasha, they trained at the Red Room Academy together. However, Y/N had left before the graduation ceremony, becoming a free-agent assassin and spy for hire.

Natasha rolled her shoulders, ready for a fight, “I was having a nice time at the party, then I find Sam and your card in the elevator.” She said, stepping closer to Y/N until the space had closed to a few feet, “What are you doing here, Y/N? Who are you working for?”

Y/N shrugs slightly at the question, “Don’t know. But they pay really well.” She smiled again before throwing out a punch towards the redhead which was blocked immediately.

Bucky watched the two women throw punches and kicks at each other. Both of them had the same fighting style which made them a pretty even match when it came to fighting. Neither were making good progress in stopping the other. It wasn’t until the rest of the team came up to stand behind Bucky, watching the two fight. Jarvis had alerted them after the flash drive had been unplugged and Y/N had stopped typing in codes to reprogram the AI. Clint and Steve rush passed the frozen figure of Bucky who was just watching Y/N, his eyes locked on her tattooed sleeve. Clint grabbed onto one of Y/N’s arms before being kicked away. Steve was able to wrap his arms behind Y/N, pinning her arms down while Natasha quickly put magnetized cuffs on Y/N’s wrist, pinning her to the closest metal table. Y/N managed to kick Natasha and Steve away, but hadn’t noticed Clint get up. He stuck her in the neck with one of Natasha’s shocking spheres, causing Y/N’s body to seize before going into unconscious.

Natasha took a deep breath and looked over towards Bucky after Y/N was unconscious, “Thanks for the help, Barnes. You were super helpful.”

Steve looked at the unconscious woman, his eyes sliding along the tattoos. He looked to Bucky then back to Y/N, “Oh my god…” He trailed off, knowing immediately what this meant.

Bucky watched Steve observe Y/N’s tattoos before walking closer his eyes locked on the face of Y/N, studying everything about her. It was like colors were brighter when he looked at her and worry melted away from his core. Everything drew him to her, “She’s my soulmate.”

______

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N.” Natasha began as the whole team stood outside the cell Y/N was in, watching her through the mirrored glass, “She was at The Red Room Academy with me. She was the top of her class, a year older than me. Y/N adopted the name ‘Queen of Hearts,’ a name I helped come up with. I thought it was ironic given that it didn’t seem like she had one. Y/L/N left the academy before she graduated, refusing to kill an innocent man. Last I heard she was doing mercenary work.”

Steve nodded at the information, looking towards Bucky who was just observing Y/N through the mirror, “What was she trying to steal?”

Natasha pulled out the flash drive she had obtained when Y/N was unconscious, “She was stealing information from us. Information of Barnes.” She said, her eyes flickering towards Bucky, “Whoever paid her, wanted to know everything about you, including all the information we know of how you became the Winter Soldier.”

_________________________________________________________

next part>

#Bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x y/n #james buchanan barnes

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grenade-maid · 3 years

Text

Just finished Lain. Watched the last episode twice, which gently removed my heart from my chest and pulped it into a fine paste in a mortar and pestle. This hit much closer to home than I expected.

In my Lain epistemology post I somewhat flippantly made an aside that the series was only tangentially about Lain the actual character. By which I meant that my read on the series up until that point (around episode 8 or 9) was that each episode was teasing apart different aspects of the ambiguity of truth, knowledge, information, and communication, with the events of Lain's life being almost just a sort of example case study for how these concepts can impact someone on an individual level. Lain was framed in a kind of zoomed out way as an abstract avatar moving through these events without a whole lot of expression of her personal thoughts and feelings.

And then we get to the last three episodes.

It's in this space that Lain the 8th grade age girl with thoughts and feelings and wants and needs and fears comes into painfully sharp focus. The beginning of the final episode sums up and contextualizes what all of this has always been about.

Who am I? What is the real me? How can I tell what's real about me if everyone interprets it differently?

Do I even exist if other people can't see me?

The flippant bravado that I expressed in that post is the same attitude that Lain has been applying to her own very sense of self throughout the series, as just another arbitrary and moldable piece of information subject to interpretation with no inherent truth.

She effectively commits suicide by removing herself from sight, mind, and memory, of everyone around her. After all, if they have no knowledge of her, then she no longer exists. But what is lurking in the subtext of this finale is that she fails to consider that everyone she is cutting off is equally subject to this process. She imagines that without her meddling they are able to be happy. But that's all it is, imagination.

She doesn't exist to them anymore because she erased their knowledge of her, but it goes both ways. In doing this, they cease to exist to her, too. The image of the happy lives of the people she knew don't come from real observation or fact. It is something that she is imposing upon her memory or imagination of those people, which is only possible because she's removed herself from the possibility of being reminded just how complex and occasionally painful their lives will be with her or without her. In those scenes nobody misses her except in these brief fleeting moments where they remember some fond association with her, before moving on to their happy lives.

But this isn't reality. She isn't seeing these people. This is how she comforts herself, by imagining that everything is for the best without her, and nobody has to feel the pain of missing her. But that's not something she can know or control. The pain they feel upon losing her doesn't exist only because she has removed herself from where she might see it and have to acknowledge it.

Do I even exist if other people can't see me?

This phrase is taken to its literal extreme in the finale. But I think it's important to take a step back and really think about what this means on a more human level, especially when it comes to the kinds of struggles that everyone, especially kids that age, are dealing with.

That is to say, even if you literally physically exist and go about the world talking to people going to school eating dinner and so on, if there are parts of you that people don't know about, if there are things inside you that you can't express, you quickly come to the painful realization that to other people, that stuff just doesn't exist. Which means that whole side of you doesn't exist, according to the outside world. And if that side of you encompasses something important about your identity or your experiences, it's hard to not come to the conclusion that the real you, the entirety of your being, doesn't exist to them either. And when you try to tell them about it, or when they notice on their own, but they don't understand or perhaps outright reject it, hasn't some fundamental part of your humanity been erased? In this kind of environment it's easy to start doubting that any of it exists at all. After all, if nobody else will recognize it, you've only got your own word to go on. And that isn't always enough to trust.

And again, keep in mind that this goes both ways. I think Lain's sister is the clearest example which is given by the series. One episode she begins as a character, someone who has thoughts and a personality and so on. By the end of the episode she is reduced to the state that she will stay in for the rest of the series, blank-eyed and senseless. That fully fledged self she had still exists though. Lain just stops being able to see it, so effectively her sister stops existing for her.

Do I even exist if other people can't see me?

When you are isolated you can say anything about yourself. You can say you're nobody, or you're God, or perhaps something even wiser and greater than God. It can feel powerful to start writing your own existence and rationalizing your own isolation, the perceptions of others be damned. You can say well, my parents don't understand me and I stopped being able to connect to my sister, but who cares! Family is just arbitrary biology anyway! What if they aren't even my family at all, and are just plants put in place by a secret organization. I'm not lonely, I'm just seeking a greater truth, a conspiracy that only I can see! I don't make social mistakes, I'm not afraid of hurting anyone, that's the fake me running around out there! But it's not sustainable. Eventually life comes crashing down, whether it be in the form of interference in the material world, or if that mental state with all of its attendant self-spun narratives just finally collapses.

As with most things in this series, Lain's interactions with "God" are written in a very abstract symbolic way. But, the pattern that it follows seems very familiar to me as one of a predatory adult grooming a vulnerable minor. He alternates between gassing Lane up as the most powerful and important being who has ever lived, and then in the next breath saying that she's nothing. In peddling his conspiracy theory narrative of humankind merging with The Wired, of Lain simply being a powerful piece of software meant for Grand Purpose, he feeds into her struggle for identity and the need to be seen and understood by at once validating these feelings and how confusing they are, while reinforcing her isolation and his own dominant grip over defining the shape of the world and society.

When Arisu finds Lain living in filth and comforts her, that is one of the rare moments that the raw, vulnerable, material world Lain, weighed down with no pretenses, pokes her head out. That moment of genuine intimacy that she has been so hungry for this whole time is enough to allow her to retaliate against "God" when he shows up in anger upon being doubted. When Arisu reacts poorly to this sight, though, is when Lain makes her final dive back into her own walled off reality. For as much as she wants to be seen and held and comforted by this girl she loves, it is far more painful for her to have to witness and live with the feeling of rejection and guilt that came from Arisu's fear in the aftermath.

The final image of her father finally expressing the real tenderness she has longed for. The imagined future of Arisu dating her former teacher well into adulthood, because it's the only model of a relationship Lain has ever seen someone want, because her parents certainly don't seem happy, and she herself didn't get anything out of the boy who kissed her. The final statement, "I will always be with you". As with everything in the series, these can be interpreted many ways. But to me it reads unmistakably as the final moments before suicide.

In any case though, after all that, it seems fairly starkly clear why Lain resonates so strongly with trans people. Contrary to the old saying that all happy people are happy the same way, but all miserable people suffer uniquely, this path to despondence is depressingly common. It is the way out that is unique to everyone who finds themselves there. I hate to say it, although I feel very lucky to say that I have survived being in that place many times--which I think is proof that it is possible to get to the other side and make a good life, despite everything-- I think if it had ended any more neatly or more positively, it just wouldn't feel as honest. It captures the depth of that state of being. That's just what it's like. And as heavy as it is to sit with, I get a lot from being able to see something painfully familiar to me reflected in such a raw way. After all that, a happy ending would just feel disingenuous. I mean, that's my life, and any happy ending they could have written just isn't how it went.

#writing #Serial Experiments Lain #Lain

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ackerfics · 3 years

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so this is love — annie leonhart

— annie leonhart x female reader

— request by anon: I kinda have a request. How about royal au? Where 2 kingdoms are at war with each other, and reader is the heir of the throne of one kingdom (but they’re not the spoiled type of heir, more like the solider one?) and then the kingdoms decided a truce. Reader will have to marry the heir of the other kingdom which is Annie. Idk maybe those arranged marriages that they never get along at first? Kinda like they were enemies bc they never get along until some development of feelings happen along the way. Maybe Annie will realize that she has feelings when reader got injured since they’re a soldier

— warnings: mentions of war, slight angst if you squint, just two idiots falling in love with each other :))

— summary: you were sent off to another kingdom as a sign of a truce, promising to yourself that the engagement is close to death at how you got off on the wrong foot with your betrothed. it was hell at first but who knows? maybe, unbeknownst to you, the two of you are a match made by the gods.

— word count: 7.5k

— author’s notes: i am so sorry this came out so long :((( we just finished our exams and we have a case study to write as our midterm for a subject. i hope this will still quench your annie fic cravings. and by the way, i fashioned the kingdom of idylle to mondstadt because genshin impact is my stress reliever right now and a kingdom built upon freedom sounds like a gem. plus, the glass castle of the reader is based off of the castle of cinderella, which is the reason for the title hhhhhh happy reading !!!

so this didn’t appear in the tags so i reposted it :”(((

Corsets were abominations that needed to be burned.

The girl with your features staring at you from the mirror was someone you couldn’t recognize from all the preparations your chambermaid did on your figure. The make-up was appalling and thick that you could see a smear on the back of your hand when you tried rubbing your itching nose. Your hair was done in a half up-do with too many decorative pins sticking out, creating a makeshift crown of silver roses, one of the symbols of your kingdom. The dress your mother expected you in was straight-up ridiculous, you couldn’t move from the tightness of the corset and the heaviness of your skirts was hindering you from moving freely. You couldn’t even deny that it was a lovely gown but its inconvenience was irking you at the slightest turn or stretch.

Dressing up this lavishly was rare for you, the Crown Princess of the kingdom boring flags of silver and lilac. You very much preferred the heaviness of your armor and your title as one of your kingdom’s Commendatore rather than the ladylike image your mother has been forcing you on the past few weeks.

You were livid when your parents renounced from the ten-year war that was purging the continent with just a sign on a piece of paper — one that included your name and your honor. Everything was brutal, carnage dotting every town and village of the two kingdoms throwing spears and fire cannons, and you witnessed it all firsthand when you started being one of your kingdom’s soldiers four years ago — a sixteen-year-old girl throwing orders that gave you an advantage from your enemies wearing the crest of the kingdom that painted your lands a heart-wrenching red. Of all solutions that your parents and the other kingdom could come up with, it involved you in the most unacceptable way possible. Officially entering your twenties this year, your parents thought it necessary to offer you as a bride that signified peace to the warring nation right beyond the border. The idea made your vision red, an outburst coming out of your mouth mere seconds after the proposal was announced in the council meeting.

A soldier, a knight, a commander — that’s what you are.

Not some forsaken young woman ready to be shipped off to your rival nation because it was the only way out of this bloody mess.

You had no choice.

The only way for you to grasp the final moments in your kingdom was relishing the touches of the chambermaid and taking in the décor of your room — the small trinkets scattered on your nightstands, the books you escaped to, the jewelry that boasted the colors of your family, and the stuffed animals your nanny sewed for you when you were a toddler. You closed your eyes and let the feathery fingers of the people around you lull you into a prayer for the gods in their celestial thrones, asking for their blessing in this far travel. In the middle of reciting an ode dedicated to the goddess of divine bravery, you felt a cool pendant carefully slide over your collarbones.

Your mother’s face appeared beside the watery princess of the mirror, a forced smile pulling on the corners of her lips. Your distinctly colored irises flickered down on the necklace your mother placed upon the exposed parts of your body. It was a flower-pressed necklace, the gold plate carefully protecting the flower representing your birth. The golden chain holding the necklace together was so thin that you worried for a moment that the fragile piece of jewelry might break in less than an hour while you meet your partner-to-be. You met your mother’s gaze in the mirror — from a chivalrous princess of armor to a dignified queen ruling within a land of eternal spring.

“You look so beautiful,” your mother breathed your name, holding your arms tightly against her ring-adorned hands. Tears blossomed her eyes, trickling down her cheeks akin to the lavender flowers’ petals of the large white tree in your backyard. “You look like the queen you were supposed to be.”

You tried smiling but your wobbly lips made you falter. You can only purse your lips in a tight, flat smile as you face your mother, face set in a kind expression. “Please don’t cry, Mother,” you murmured, placing your palm on top of hers, squeezing it for reassurance. “They wouldn’t do anything to me.”

They, meaning the kingdom you were at war with, the nation that claimed they needed a bride for their Crown Heir. In your world, there was freedom even in marriage — with the kingdoms pairing their sons with the sons of their enemies all for the sake of a truce, especially if the two of them were firstborns. This is very much your situation at the moment. The kingdom of Idylle was a beautiful haven of songs dedicated to the god of the winds, very contrasting to their military power that could take down a good number of your soldiers. You heard stories from some villages in your nation that Idylle was a hoax, that they were bloodthirsty warmongers hungry for the spilled blood of the people of Glaieul, your kingdom. You couldn’t help but believe their words. That was the only addition to your knowledge of Idylle except for their battle tactics and placement of soldiers on the battlefield.

“We’ll pray to the deities that they will do just that,” your mother laughed a little despite the tears. “Or else your father will wage war if they so much scratched you.”

“He wouldn’t do that, Mother,” you shook your head with a slight smile. “You two have worked so hard for this peace treaty. If I ever scratched myself in Idyllic lands, trust me that it would most likely be my fault. Not theirs.”

Your mother’s laugh twinkled in the room, painting everything in a light that erased the heaviness shrouding in every corner of your chambers. “I suppose so. You and your love for your sword are unrivaled. I can still remember the time when you first got the weapon, you were so thrilled for a six-year-old that one would think you were born in the barracks. I have to admit, you looked adorable swinging your sword until the greeting of the night and its stars.” She wistfully sighed, looking down at the necklace she gave you. “Your father was so proud when you came back for dinner that night.”

“My sword has always been a lifelong companion. I will even bring it to their castle.”

Your mother placed a hand on top of her chest, over her heart. “I hope you don’t unsheathe it in front of their royal family.”

You breathed a laugh. “No promises.”

The two of you talk about all the things that happened in your childhood, your laughs echoing through the hallways. The maids and the butlers bade you goodbye and safe travels as you passed by, never forgetting to nod in their direction in acknowledgment. You will miss their company for they saw you grow up before you decided to partake in the war. Almost all of them fussed over the mess you made while practicing your swordplay, cleaning up the broken vases and the mud on the carpeted floors. Even one of the apprentices of the Keeper of Books residing in the palace, Armin, enthusiastically waved at you, his friends flanking him for a visit in the kitchens. You didn’t miss how Eren directed an incredulous stare towards the blonde man, with Mikasa looking shocked at how easily the apprentice interacted with you in a public setting since your times with them only happened behind prying eyes.

You gave the three of them a huge smile that gave their faces a pretty rose shade.

Upon reaching the foyer, your father stood at the foot of the stairs along with the soldiers you acquainted in your time on the battlefield, sending a wave of warmth through your chest. His silver coat lined with gold details was a beacon and his white breeches were tucked in a pair of knee-length boots. His chest was decorated with his sash full of medallions, the kingdom insignia of lilac gladioluses and silver roses pinned on top of his heart. The king of Glaieul softened his eyes, crinkles appearing at the corners, at the sight of you and your mother descending on the stairs.

“My little flower,” was his greeting to you when you reached him.

“Father,” you breathed, picking up your skirts to settle in the embrace of waiting arms. You buried your figure against him, inhaling his scent of pine and rosewater, creating the last memory you will have of him. The two of you pulled away for a moment, your eyes watering at the sad visage your father sported. You felt the lightest brush of his kiss on your forehead.

“Now I’m becoming reluctant in sending you off,” he told you. “I felt guilty when I saw you fight against this during the council meeting. But it is what they offered and I have no say in the matter.”

“I know.”

“May the eternal spring never waver in your soul.”

You nodded before taking a step back, bowing with your knees on the marble floors. Your crown glinted against the light from the stained-glass windows, your hair forming a curtain around your face as you replied, “I will let it fester among the ballads and idylls they will offer. I will carry the name of Glaieul with faithfulness, honor, and grace.” You raised your head to meet your father’s eyes. “I promise to never deter the eternal spring.”

It would be that way until your last years in that kingdom. And as you rode the carriage with the soldiers you fought with guarding the vehicle with their lives on the line, you could only sigh and offer another round of prayers that this swerves in a more positive direction than what you were expecting. After a hefty journey across the bustling capital (people stopped by and waved your carriage goodbye, offering you flowers that one of the captains of the fleet, Levi, scowled at — you coaxed him that it was alright, though) to the hectares of meadows in the countryside, the sight of flowers mixed with emerald turned into a sea of teal as you entered the outskirts of Idylle, your betrothed’s home. Everything was bathed with the endemic species of grass solely blessed by the god of the winds on Idylle — legends say that it was because He wanted the kingdom that worshipped him to look different than the rest. No matter how much you deny it, it was beautiful.

“How are you faring, princess?”

Your daze was interrupted by a baritone voice, deep enough to alert some of the men around the carriage. His gray eyes provided you support during the war. You couldn’t help but smile at the onyx-haired man riding by your right window. “Hello, Captain Levi.”

“Tch. Drop the title, brat. You and I both know that the war made us friends somewhat.”

You let out a small laugh. “Well, Levi, to answer your question, I’m quite fine even though my parents just sold me to gain peace.”

Levi rose an eyebrow at the remark. “I am not one to have the capabilities to comfort someone but think of this as a way for you to help the kingdom without sacrificing your life for once. A nation without its heir is just like losing its king. I’ve seen you train when you’re starting as a squire and to the point when you got the position you deserve. This would be like a small walk in the gardens of your mother.” He fixated his stare on you, eyes dull yet determined to get his point across. “You have a role in every part of your life and this time, this is what the gods crafted for you. Do not fret, princess, you have more chances of being on the battlefield again.”

The words Levi spoke settled in you until you reached the capital of Idylle, a small island in the middle of a clear azure lake with walls resembling a huge castle. The bridge leading to the gates was lined with guards bearing the kingdom’s crest, all of them standing under the flapping flags bearing the symbol and colors of the royal family they serve — a harp surrounded by the colors of gold and blue. Their eyes warily followed the series of carriages, postures becoming stiff in the realization that the entourage holds the visitor their rivaling country sent. That was still the scenario when the series of carriages and horses passed by the marketplace, the vicinity on the lowest part of the walled capital, as if the wind even ceased to let the people gawk at the brightly-colored entourage making its way to the highest tier depicting mansions and the main plaza where their patron god stood tall and proud in front of the palace’s gates.

Everything looked magnificent.

It was a breath of fresh air from the glass castle you grew up in. Whereas your kingdom built a white, blinding home that withstood for hundreds of years, Idylle’s palace blended with the brick walls with its leveled mansard roofs and turrets. The gates were made of gold, welcoming you into a huge square of maze-like hedges, a fountain sitting in the middle of the labyrinth. Some gardeners stopped their daily chores to greet the carriages with a wave of their hat, seeing as you were going to be an addition to the royal family after the wedding in a few months. The steps leading to the main doors loomed in front of you with only a few servants waiting for you to step out of the carriage.

You took in a deep breath, nodding at Levi to open the door. When it swung open, you placed your hand on top of Levi’s as he guided you down the propped steps on the side of the carriage.

“Well,” Levi hummed from behind you, making you glance at him with a curious eye. “May the eternal spring never waver in your soul, Your Highness.” He bowed in front of you, only a dip of his head, a firm hand on his heart, and yet that was enough for you to reciprocate it with a kind smile.

“Safe travels back, Captain Levi. May the gods protect you.”

The servant boys standing on top of the stairs jumped an inch in the air, going down in fleeting steps to get your luggage when they realized they were staring too long at you. You smiled at them in gratitude before stepping inside the palace as the guards opened the huge, gilded double doors in front of you.

The inside was just elegant as the exterior appearance of the entire capital. Everything was bathed in gold that seemed to rival the Sun and it made you look away for a moment. The grand hall followed the kingdom’s colors, from the turquoise carpets leading towards two winding staircases to the golden ceilings decorated with paintings of cherubs and the story of how their god of the winds came to be. One of the servant boys slightly cleared his throat, snapping you out of your curiosity of the myths laid on the ceiling. You turned to him with raised eyebrows, spurring him to whisper a faint, “Follow us, Your Highness.” They led you through hallways hung with tapestries and paintings, drawing rooms where the queen hosted her tea parties (Levi would have loved it), and ballrooms that have the same aesthetic as the foyer. Finally, you stopped in front of one of the apartments in the palace, the servant boy who told you to follow them brightened at the guard stationed there.

“Reiner!”

You waited patiently and let your eyes roam across the hallway.

“Hello, Falco, Udo.” The man, Reiner, smiled at the young boys before turning to you. He placed a hand on his heart and bowed. “Welcome to Gale, the capital of Idylle, Your Highness.”

“Thank you for the welcome,” you replied, motioning for him that it was quite alright to straighten his posture. “The palace looks lovely.”

“Indeed, it is.” Reiner opened the doors of your room and once again bowed with an outstretched hand towards the room. “Here are your chambers and I will be your guard for the entirety of your stay here in the palace, Your Highness.” You muttered a faint ‘thank you’ as you entered a drawing room with a door to the private chambers on the left and the bathrooms to the right. There was a table fit for two people, armchairs, and drawers with vases on top. A huge floor-to-ceiling window illuminated the room, your feet carrying you there to open them, and letting the wind caress the curtains as they danced in the breeze. “If you ever need anything, you can call for my name and I will be here in an instant. Your chambermaid will be up here in a moment to help you prepare for the family dinner. For now, rest well, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Reiner, Falco, Udo,” you smiled, retreating towards the private chambers.

You let out a sigh and stared at nothing for a few moments. It came down to this. To think that you were in enemy lands and was treated so well without any degradation came as a shock to you. The people so far that radiated negativity at your arrival were the guards stationed at the bridge and some of the townsfolk and nobles parading in the streets. As you think about the servant boys and Reiner’s calmness in receiving you in the palace, you immediately thought that it would be better than you expected.

You took off your heels under your dress, mind racing that this wouldn’t be so bad, and plopped on top of your canopied bed, its baby blue curtains protecting you from unknown disturbances and drowning you in a rapid of dreams.

The dinner didn’t go so well as you expected.

You donned a more suitable dress for indoor use, something that doesn’t include forcing your figure in a tight corset and yet presentable enough to be shown in the family dinner. You even placed a circlet of silver flowers on your head to compensate for the dull dress you chose, the description fitting after one of the chambermaids expressed their perplexity at how simple regarding design your dress has. Your light blue skirts fanned out around you as you made your way to one of the grand dining rooms reserved for family use. The choice of the color of the dress should be enough to express that you are willing to be on good terms with the family of the person you will marry.

But your first meeting with Annie Leonhart was interestingly disappointing.

Before departing from your kingdom, you learned the royal family and even Idylle’s customs. You learned how they always valued freedom and expression above all else, compared to your home that valued their ties with the gods more than the idea of getting rid of the shackles placed by your deities. You learned how they have this festival dedicated to celebrating the love they share with their patron god and how it spanned for half a month.

Finally, you learned about the indifferent Crown Heir of Idylle, the young woman with the piercing blue oceanic eyes sitting in front of you at the dinner table. She was known for building up walls that discouraged some of her engagements with other royalties across the continent. She was so closed off that she didn’t even glance in your direction for one second. Her hair was done in an elaborate bun wrapping around her head in a braid, her small, thin diadem resting against her golden hair. Annie kept her gaze on her plate, even playing with her food mindlessly for a couple of minutes before sighing and taking a bite of the chicken the maids served. No conversation was exchanged and the dinner ultimately became one of the most awkward meals you had. The king even tried to engage his daughter for casual talk but Annie dismissed them with a hum.

The queen had to apologize to you several times after the dinner, with Annie huffing at the back and eager to get out of the room. Despite how much she was against this engagement, you still bowed at her before you retreated to your room.

Now dressed in your nightgown, you stared at the canopy of your bed, already missing your home the more you fixed your attention on the bundled-up curtains. You badly needed to hit a straw dummy with your sword to let out your frustrations. Of all the royalties present in your continent, why did it have to be you that was shipped to this measly forced marriage? There were still so many solutions that could lead to a peace treaty but why was this the only one the kings and queens could present to their courts? A sigh escaped your chest once again at the thought of actually getting to know Annie. You laid on your side, curling your legs towards your chest and prayed that the god of dreams will visit you sooner than expected.

A knock reverberated through your chambers, the sound making you sit up.

You went to the receiving room and opened the door. You kept the small hitch of your breath in your chest at the sight of Annie and her half-lidded eyes. There was no one in the hallways. You figured that she sent Reiner away for some privacy, meeting the blue irises you likened to brilliant sapphires.

“What brings you here, Your Highness?” you asked, opening the door wider.

“Annie.” She saw how your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Call me Annie, we’re betrothed after all.”

“Of course.” You smiled. “Annie,” you tested her name softly, missing the way she inhaled too sharply at your voice.

Annie reciprocated the gesture by saying your name. The two of you stared at each other and it felt like an eternity before she looked away to focus on the receiving room behind you. She noticed how your eyes held kindness underneath the star-like shine even though she showed hostility during your first dinner with her family. Your hair was disheveled and it didn’t take her a minute to realize she might have woken you up from a good night’s rest. The journey from Glaieul to Idylle was a long one. You deserve all the rest you can get, “I apologize if I woke you up but I feel like I should do this before dragging it out.” You once again raised an eyebrow so she took out a leather box, opening it to reveal a ring with a holographic gem showing teal and pink in the middle. The Leonhart family ring. “Here.”

“Oh.”

You were gawking at the beautiful piece of jewelry, with Annie taking the matter in her own hands. She took the ring out of the box and pocketed the container. Her hand reached out to hold your palm against hers, sliding the ring in your ring finger. Your hand still hovered in front of you after Annie retracted hers to find their place by her side. She continued to eye your mesmerized visage with a half-lidded gaze, clearing her throat to catch your attention. You turned to her with a small apology for spacing out.

“It’s fine,” Annie waved off. “It’s yours starting today.” She turned away from you and went down the hallways but not before saying a “Good night, [Name].”

The entire week of your stay in Idylle was uneventful, to say the least.

Annie kept her distance from you after that night she gave you their family ring. It left you thinking that you should also gift her the [Last Name] ring your family treasured for centuries. The ring was placed in a small cushioned jewelry box that you opened and propped on one of your night tables. Your conscience was telling you to give it to her but there wasn’t exactly any moment alone with her let alone just passing by her in the hallways. The blonde princess made it her mission to never let your fates meet the more time you spent in the capital. You then decided that she probably didn’t want this engagement to happen.

But she gave you the ring. Wasn’t that a strong signal that Annie accepted you as her betrothed, unlike the others before you?

You shook that thought as you focused on giving consecutive hits on the dummy in front of you. Two days before, you proposed to the king to let you have a moment alone in the training grounds for about two hours or so to keep you in shape. He reluctantly agreed, but not without a side stare at the queen. They heard of your glorious feats during the war, how you managed to become one of the Commanders of a battalion of soldiers tasked with being in the frontlines and how you won constant ambushes against Idylle’s numbers. Two hours of training became three until here you are, still not stopping as you finished every single dummy in the private training grounds. With your day spent outside, you thought it would be nice to have a nice dip in the bathtub before dinner.

In your walk towards your chambers, you spotted Annie in one of the drawing rooms, sitting in the window seats with a book of war tactics in hand. You recognized the author as one of the revolutionaries mentioned to you by your tutor.

“That’s a nice book,” you couldn’t help but mention. Annie turned to you unfazed by your interruption though there was a glint of interest in her eyes. “The book mostly describes battle formations but I think the author likened it to every situation on the battlefield. For instance, the phalanx was native to the empire of Great Findara and it was great for preventing casualties until it was overpowered by the infantry tactic of the city nation of Khisfire where every man has a role and a weapon depending on their group. The latter was more on the long-range yet melee way of taking back the territory.”

Annie hummed. “Do royal tutors of Glaieul teach this to their students?”

“Oh, no. I learned it while taking on the role of a squire.”

She once again hummed. “It completely slipped my mind that you are one of the Commanders in your military. You were ruthless as the folks in the noble plaza say, blood tainting your hands from doing raids in the border villages of Idylle.” Her tone was like a jab to your side, like an arrow tearing through your skin. “I know it was a time of war and desperate times call for desperate measures but our people didn’t deserve to experience the massacres.”

“They were far from being massacres,” you gritted your teeth.

Annie scoffed. “Then what were they? Because that’s what it looks like to me. I can still remember the story two years ago of a young girl wearing her lilac cape in the bloodbath, eyes so dull that you can see your reflection on it. What’s to say that this engagement is a hoax plotted by your parents to assassinate my family for you to win a territory you greatly needed because of the resources?” She closed her book with too much force, bitterly spitting out the next words, “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree as the saying goes.”

“If you question my being here then why did you give me your family ring, Annie?” you asked, your body now facing the tense young woman by the window. You cursed at how the light made her look angelic like the girl the god of the winds sacrificed his life to before he ascended to the heavens. “This peace treaty is everything my family wanted even though hundreds of our soldiers died in vain for not meeting the ends of what they fought for. If you’re saying that my parents placed me in an undercover predicament to add to the weight of deaths on my shoulders, I suggest you tell your father to put a stop to our betrothal. Because I don’t even want to be here, Your Highness, and it would do me such a huge honor. I would rather spend my time out with my fellow soldiers than pretending I’m some dainty princess my family sheltered when in fact, I was anything but that.

“Have a good day and I hope you enjoy the rest of the book. Chapter ten was a personal favorite of mine,” you dismissed, turning towards the direction of the apartments.

Once you reached your door, Reiner straightened his posture, faltering for a second when he noticed the cross look on your face. He chose not to say anything as he opened the door for you. You took off your boots right beside one of the armchairs of the receiving room and immediately went inside your private chambers. The glint of the ring on your night table mocked you. You stomped over the furniture and forcefully closed the small jewelry box, throwing the container inside one of the drawers.

Maybe sleep will be much kinder to you, the sheets enveloping you in an embrace you wish your mother can only give in this time of need.

You were radiant under the harsh heat of the Sun.

Annie was scheduled to have a free slot in her timetable after being included in one of the court meetings regarding the resiliency plan of some of the villages in the borders that managed to survive the Glaieulian raids. She suggested that the villages should be moved to one of the more remote villages nearer the capital, where the terrain is suitable for growing crops and starting small farms. There wouldn’t be an issue with overpopulation because the recommended village was home to the elderly and children. The newly situated families will also aid the old people as they go about their mundane activities. It was a sound suggestion and her father was also considering it. Annie hoped that would be the case as she scribbled a small note on a piece of paper. After the meeting, she stopped by one of the windows overlooking the training grounds, and there you are.

Your small argument that happened a few days before stirred some guilt in Annie’s stomach.

You weren’t even part of the raids she was talking about. They were led by a commander by the name of Erwin Smith. The stories about you that she heard were from Idyllic soldiers that suffered a lot during the war, not from the people of the villages Erwin raided. Annie couldn’t deny it but she did step out of the line by accusing you of being an assassin. That was too far-fetched. She was just stuck in her suspicions when she was supposed to be getting to know you.

All she knew about you was that you were adept with a sword and can name any tactic written in books about wars.

Annie saw a maid cleaning one of the vases in the hallway. “Miranda.”

The maid turned around, curtsying in a haste before patting her uniform. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“Can you prepare a tray of iced apple juice and some cakes?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Annie nodded. “And can you place this note on the tray and deliver it to [Name]’s room?”

The maid was taken aback. “Well, it would be my pleasure, Princess.”

“Thank you.” With that, Annie walked away without a glance back.

Curious eyes followed the princess’ form, the maid finding herself looking at your figure sparring with Reiner and a smile instantly greeted her face. This could be a turning point in the betrothal because she could’ve sworn Annie had a small blush on her cheeks at the mention of the other princess.

After your training, a tray of sweets and a pitcher with glasses of apple juice awaited you in your receiving room. You wanted to ask Reiner if he asked some of the chambermaids to prepare the afternoon snack but a folded note caught your eye. With one hand gripping the towel around your shoulders, you read the note, your face warming up at the short yet endearing sentence.

Indulge in these, they taste better after a good training session.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, you thought as you munched on a sprinkled cookie.

Her eyes kept following a trail of gold tulle, silks, and laces, never looking away the moment her blue eyes laid themselves upon a beauty that rivaled the goddess of oneiric realms, the most ethereal goddess of the heavens. You were dressed in an off-shoulder gown with loose sleeves reaching your elbow, the bodice carefully wrapping around your torso in the most flattering way possible, and skirts adorned with silver gems. In a sea of aristocrats with fabulous dresses, you were a sight to behold in this ball dedicated to commemorate the truce between Glaieul and Idylle as well as announce the engagement between the two countries. You were starlight personified, shining in Annie’s eyes under the lights of tens of chandeliers in the ballroom.

You were on the other side of the ballroom, laughing with your friends from your home kingdom. There was a tall brunette that seemed to be star-struck because of you just like Annie, a black-haired young woman who was smiling slightly, and a blonde who was engaged in an animated conversation with you. Your smiles were refreshing, to say the least, Annie seeing it for the first time since you came to their palace. Your laughs are genuine and it came out of you so easily when in the company of your friends.

Annie visibly stiffened when you turned around and smiled at her, gesturing for her to come to join the small huddle. Your three friends tensed noticeably at her half-lidded stare, with you reassuring them that she’s not that indifferent all the time.

As if sensing Annie’s hesitance, Reiner chuckled behind her. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself to them, Your Highness.”

“I’m getting to that, Reiner.”

A laugh came from the blonde man. “She’s good for you. That much I can tell. The kindest soul I’ve ever met in my life.”

Again, guilt pooled in Annie’s chest. Those words are the opposite of what she spewed out to you the last time you talked. She called you a power-hungry monster who ravaged the war with no care on your shoulders. She didn’t even apologize yet. Annie sighed, “I know.” Then, she pulled up her skirts, navigated the ballroom, and stopped directly beside you. Her blue eyes scrutinized the three people you grew up with, with the brunette and black-haired woman stepping a small step forward to assert their dominance while the blonde pinched their backs to warn them not to step out of line in another kingdom. “Hello.” She transferred her eyes on you afterward, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back and rubbing it in a comforting motion. “I hope you enjoyed the ball so far.” Those words were directed to you.

You only nodded with a smile. “Annie, this is Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. They’re my friends when I was growing up in the glass castle.” Annie nodded. “Everyone, this is Annie, my fiancé.”

“We know,” Eren, the long-haired man in a low ponytail murmured with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Eren,” Armin reprimanded. He smiled at a stone-faced Annie. “Thank you for making [Name] happy! I can sense that she has a different air around her while we talked. It must be because of you.”

Annie stayed quiet, her hand coming into a still on the small of your back. It was a good thing her left hand was hidden away because they would immediately think that you didn’t accept the engagement. She glanced at the ring nestling in your finger, a perfect match against the golden train of your dress. Realizing that she created an awkward stretch of silence, Annie could only nod wordlessly before shifting her attention to you again. It seems like you’re the only one who can calm her nerves down inside the vast ballroom. She never took her gaze on you even as you continued the conversation between your friends.

Her mind was fogged with thoughts of only you throughout the ball.

The two of you excused yourself from the trio when Annie’s father called for everyone’s attention from the front of the huge chambers. “Everyone, kind souls and pure-hearted people of the continent, since tonight is all for enjoyment, the waltz of the ball will now commence.” His blue eyes went to his daughter, standing at the side of his throne. “The moment everyone is waiting for — the first waltz.”

She rehearsed this too many times for when a proper betrothal comes into play but why is her hand shaking when she outstretched it in front of you? You must have felt it because you flashed a comforting smile her way. The two of you went to the middle of the ballroom, the guests staring expectantly at the birth of a romance. They were wrong because you hate her and she hates you. Right? Her hatred for you will never waver for killing her people even though you look like a descended goddess with the lights of the chandeliers raining on you. Hatred must be fueling her heart to beat faster than ever, why she seemed to trip over her skirts and how her words stumbled in her tongue. That must be it.

The dance slowly made its way to the part where she struggled, dipping you as gracefully as she can. Before it happened, you whispered to her, “Please don’t make me fall.”

Annie’s voice was soft, for your ears only. “I promise, my princess.”

It truly was a birth of a romance, the two of you unaware of it all.

“Come on, Reiner!” You shouted at him from across the training field. “Come at me with all you’ve got.”

The blonde man hesitantly shifted into position as he eyed you. “Are you sure, princess? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He remembered the threatening look he received from Annie before this training session and he would like all of his limbs intact, thank you very much. “I just don’t want your chambermaid to nag me again after last time.” He managed a cut on your arm your previous session and you had to wear a long-sleeved dress in such stifling weather.

You scoffed lightheartedly. “I can handle it, Reiner. You don’t have to worry about it. Plus, I can dress my wounds perfectly.”

Reiner didn’t believe that. Your skills in covering up your wounds were lacking despite being a soldier. The most you could do was apply some salve on your bruises, that was it. He had no choice because the past month he spent his days with you, you were like a persistent little child that reminded him of his younger cousin. He hoped that you two wouldn’t meet. “Alright, here I go, Your Highness.”

Parry after parry could be heard in the private training field. You were doing fine in deflecting Reiner’s sword but your ankle immediately ached after shifting your body, leaning back to avoid the sharp edge of the knight’s weapon. You let out a huff as you dropped on the ground, jolting when Reiner called for you to stay alert. Seeing the glint of his sword, you rolled away and the pain on your ankle flared, even more, traveling through your calf. It also didn’t help that you received a cut on the side of your bandaged arm. You picked yourself up despite the throbbing pain on your ankle and arm, now being on the defensive as Reiner continuously struck you with his sword. He then circled his weapon around yours, throwing your sword on the side and pushing you to the ground with the tip of his weapon. That was the time where your ankle finally twisted into a sprain.

“Ah!”

“Princess?” Reiner’s tone became alarmed, dropping to your level and taking off your boots in an instant. His hands ghosted around your swollen ankle, not knowing what to do. “Gods, Annie’s going to kill me!”

“Annie?” You asked between pants. “What does this have to do with her?”

He only shook his head, carrying you in his arms and into the palace. His steps were hurried and the maids gasped at the sight of your red ankle. “Please prepare a bucket of ice and bring it to Princess [Name]’s private chambers.” He turned to you. “Hang on for a moment, Your Highness, we’re nearing your room. Just a little bit more.” Reiner entered your room and gently placed you on your bed. “I’m going to be taking off your other shoe, Your Highness.”

“Reiner, I think I’ll take it from here.”

Reiner stiffened, slowly turning his head to the entrance of your private chambers. Annie was impatiently standing with a bucket of ice in both hands, eyes glacially set on the blonde man kneeling on the floor in front of your confused form. She didn’t care if Reiner trembled in front of her. She vividly remembered telling the knight to never hurt you (she didn’t see the cut you had last training session because Annie was in another court meeting involving the incoming tax collection of various villages). Annie glanced at your ankle, barely grimacing at the state of it before gesturing for Reiner to get out of the room. The large blonde man took his leave, bowing at the two of your hastily and closing the doors with finality.

Annie mimicked Reiner’s position, kneeling in one knee to place your injured foot on her thigh. She didn’t wear any dresses for the day and it made her look dashing. The image implanted itself in your brain. Her hands are gentle against your skin, your cheeks flaring at the contact. Her features were contorted in a downturned one that showed how bothered she was.

“How did this happen?”

Your eyes settled on the top drawer of your nightstand. “I dodged Reiner’s blow and I twisted my ankle in the process.”

“You should be more careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

Annie scoffed. “That’s clearly obvious.” She said nothing more while dipping your foot in the ice bath. She lifted her head too fast when you winced at the coldness of the water. “Deal with it. We wouldn’t want this to be worse than it already is.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you dryly mentioned.

“What makes you think that my being worried is all fake?” You’re silent, Annie choosing the moment to continue the words she didn’t have any control over. “When the maids prepared this bucket of ice in the kitchens, I was out of the council meeting. When I saw then bringing this up to your chambers, I was alarmed and my mind was a mess of thoughts concerning what happened to you.” At each word, her face held a multitude of emotions that you never saw on her. Her lips became pursed whilst you wordlessly stared at her. “I am not pretending to care for you. How could I pretend when I’m already feeling foreign emotions when it comes to you? It’s my first time feeling this way so I don’t know if I can categorize this as falling in love. But it feels like it. So, for the love of the gods, can’t you see that I’m rambling because of you?”

You didn’t reply, instead, you reached out to the drawer where you kept that ring.

“What are you doing? You should be still right now.”

You pulled out the jewelry box and flipped it open, showing the blonde the ring fashioned in a vine, the centerpiece being a group of small gladiolus flowers with diamonds in their centers.

Annie’s cheeks reddened, flustered at the pretty jewelry. “What?”

Words never came out of you as you took Annie’s left hand. The ring looked pretty on her, the two of you admiring it after you slid the engagement jewelry in her ring finger.

“I now accept you as my fiancé, my future lover, and holder of my heart. Annie Leonhart, may our eternal spring bloom for centuries, and may your god of the winds bless us with his idyllic ballads.” Annie’s eyes were wide and you can see your reflection on them, along with constellations that lit up her irises. You placed your forehead against hers, looking straight into her flushed face. “They were right, this is the birth of a romance.”

And as you two kissed for the first time, the gods were rejoicing in their thrones, each of your prayers answered — your love finally etched in a whimsical melody.

#annie #annie leonhart x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #princess!reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk x reader #annie leonhart x you

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ynainna · 4 years

Text

The Grave of Cecilias

synopsis: Despite it having been several hundred years since the end of the Archon War, Venti’s heart is still heavy with the grief of those he’s lost.

word count: 1,800

pairing: venti x f. reader

genre: angst

warnings: some spoilers from the recent last archon quest (aka the ver 1.1 story update), bad writing lol, angst (but not really I think?)

notes: look, originally my first fic was going to be a Diluc fic so it would be a perfect catalyst for my dumbass self but Venti is just perfect for some angsting time. Sorry in advance for my writing lmfao. I also think some of these facts are inaccurate but I’m a bit stupid and didn’t completely connect some dots from the wiki that I should’ve and due to the fact, ya know, p l o t. Feedback is also welcome but pls be nice about it. This is also extremely bad and I high key think this is horrible lmao. It’s so bad.

In the days of the Archons, years before the eruption of the Archon War, Gods roamed. Each God was responsible and represented different things, often symbolizing what their powers were. In which there was the God of Dust and the God of Blizzards. Gods had been abundant that it isn’t a surprise that there was once a Goddess of Flora.

It is no secret that gods gained their power from the worship of others. Due to the Goddess of Flora often being pushed aside to give way to the stronger gods, she had very little following from the people of Teyvat, making her one of the weaker gods. Instead of growing bitter at both her situation and her people, she had embraced her lower status. She was often heard saying, “It is better to be loved by a few who love you for yourself than to be loved by the whole for greed,” in response to them asking about it.

In her small following, there was a civilization that had worshipped her the most. The small civilization had been the ones responsible for the creation of the Cecilia Garden, their gift to the ancient god who had favored the common white flowers, Cecilias, as her favorite.

Cecilias, in the age of the Archon War, wasn’t a rarity and was often the cause of the white sea. The only traces left of the said white sea in the records were from the Cecilia Garden where it was said that it was such a common flower that it was written as “the sea of white flowers”.

The legends tell very few stories about the fate of the Sea of White, often only found in the debris and faded writings in the ruins of old. Cecilias of this day and age are often only found to grow in the high cliffs, specifically numerous on the infamous Starsnatch cliff.

Not many know the history of Starsnatch Cliff. Long before it was Starsnatch Cliff or the place where the last of the Cecilias grow, it was simply the plains.

Cecilias were abundant in the age of the Archons, never far from your sight at every turn. It is a wonder to a few on how a flower had only grown exclusive to one area.

While not many know the history of Starsnatch, the most one would have to know is it was where the end of a love story between two gods, torn apart by war, was.

Venti’s favorite flower is Cecilias. It’s not his favorite flower due to its simple beauty or even its rarity but due to its history. Prior to the Cecilias, his favorite had been the Dandelions, which was no surprise to others. He had only started to favor the Cecilias near the beginning of the Archon War and even then that was only due to you.

Starsnatch Cliff is many things but to Venti it had only been a reminder of his grief.

To Venti, it’s your grave.

Venti has lived for more than a thousand years so it’s a given that he would have a few missing memories of the past and a hesitance to recollect any memories from the age of the Archons. Despite it, there are a few he remembers very vividly.

He remembers your smile. It was a soft curve accompanied by cheeks tinged with a faint glow of pink. He remembers your eyes, twinkling, crinkling in the corners in your glee.

And while he remembers very few things now, he has always remembered every part and memory he has of you, good or not.

The last he has of you was near the beginning of the Archon War.

The first he has of you were at the end of Decarabian’s reign and the death of his dear friend.

He remembers, mourning his death, readying his burial when you appeared with your gentle hands and kind understanding smile. In your hands had been Cecilias, freshly picked.

With your hands you guided him to a place and helped him bury his friend, silence was the only thing between you. You were kind enough to ignore the tears and the sniffles. You finished at sunset. The only trace of you that was left was the picked Cecilias he had first seen you with. Despite his grief, Venti felt the corner of his lips tug up to a small smile.

He doesn’t ask until later on in your friendship about why you had given his friend the Cecilias. You only answer with a small smile at his question. To this day, he still doesn’t know why but he has a feeling.

He treasures the memories of him loving you and mourns the memories he retains of everything of the love lost between you.

The Archon War had not been kind to anyone, even to you and to him.

It is common knowledge that the Archon War had killed off a lot of gods, many of whom are buried under the grounds and some being sealed off. It was a time of turmoil, you don’t expect or hope to come out of it alive, you only fight and hope it is enough to survive another day.

You were the Goddess of Flora, responsible for the growth of the world’s vegetation. Due to such low status, your responsibilities were very little. The growth of vegetation, the worry for the changing of seasons, and your people had been the only things that were your responsibilities.

You had no desire for power nor anything more. You had only wished to care for your people to the utmost best of your abilities and to continue living the way you had lived.

But war does not discriminate.

It didn’t matter if you didn’t have the desire to fight others. You fight or you die. You, a god once often seen at the sidelines or invisible, was pushed into the fighting ring built by greed and arrogance.

While you may have not wanted to fight in the war, you had to, if not for you, for your people. In your death, your only thought had been about your people and Barbatos. It had only ever been them.

It’s raining. Venti thinks the world is laughing at them or maybe the God of Storms or Rain is mocking them for being weak, for falling in love at a time like this where it is a sign of weakness.

His hands are bloody and shaking as he holds you closer to his body. His sight is blurred by his tears that are blending in with the rain. Grief is clogging his throat and he can’t breathe. There’s not enough time for anyone to save you.

The previous battle had taken a toll on both of you and Venti. While Venti’s were only fatigue and mild injuries, yours were fatal. You had taken a wound to your gut and while it isn’t often a major injury to gods, your powers had been drained and the fatigue you feel is what makes it fatal. There’s nothing that can fix it.

You know it.

He knows it.

But despite this, logic can’t seem to get through Venti’s panic. His mind is going rampant and he can’t seem to know where to put his hands or what to fix.

You look at him with your heavy eyelids, lips quivering as you strain your body to move. With great difficulty, you bring your bloody and mangled hands towards Venti’s cheeks, landing heavily. Venti freezes, his eyes wide at the contact.

With a heavy heart, he turns his head towards you to meet your eyes. His hand slowly creeps up to the hand on his cheek. He feels his grief to come back up, scratching and clawing at his heart. When your eyes meet, you smile. Strained and quivering, but a smile nonetheless.

He feels his breath hitch at your smile. You smile like the sunset, the gradual end. The tears come up again, you had only ever smiled like the sunrise and to see it grow smaller, to see it fade is another type of pain.

“Love, no,” he whispers, throat dry as he looks at your eyes. “Don’t leave me. Hang on, please. You’ll be okay. Please. Please. Please...” Venti pleads, voice growing hoarse as the grief creeps back up with ravenous hunger.

“Barbatos...” you wheeze out, eyes slowly fluttering as you try to hold on for him, just for a few seconds, “I...I... I love...you. T-Thank you...for... for-for lo...ving me.”

“No love, stop. Stop trying to say goodbye, please, no. No. I love you. I love you so much so please don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you,” Venti heaves out with a raspy voice, clutching your hand with a harsh grip in hope of keeping you here, with him.

“Don’t leave me” he cries out.

Even with your injuries and numbness, the sight of his tears and grief caused a pang of pain to erupt.

“Love,” you rasp out, tears pouring out of your eyes, that were once glittering and now dull, “you have... to let me go.”

“NO!” he denies your pleas.

“Please... just give me more time with you... anything for you. Please.”

You cough, blood coming up and the cold hands of death creeping closer to you.

“I love you... so much. L-Live on for me... please.”

You don’t hear anything after that, not your lovers sobbing and pleading for you to come back, to hold on.

Not long after, you fade into a million different golden dust. No body left to bury.

In your death, the Cecilias slowly disappear from the world despite your followers trying their utmost best to keep it from dying away. But without their god and with no protection, even they eventually fell. With their fall, the Sea of White was no more.

In memory of you, the world created a grave for you.

Due to his love and memory of you, Venti caused the winds to only carry the Cecilias seeds to only fly around your grave and causing your grave to be the only place where Cecilias grew. Despite it having been several hundred years since the end of the Archon War, Venti’s heart is still heavy with the grief of those he’s lost.

History doesn’t write of the Goddess of Flora, there isn’t a lot of text written about her in fact. No hints about a possible connection with the Anemo God. And no one needs to know.

All who does is Venti. It’s all he has left of you that’s his and his alone.

In your death, the winds had howled and grew rough and sharp.

Long before Starsnatch Cliff was anything, it was your grave.

It was the Grave of Cecilias.

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jungshookz · 4 years

Note

cee cee i have an idea!!! what about Cool and Cultured bookshop owner! tae and dorky y/n walking past the store everyday and one day goes in and strikes a conversation about a fancy book like catcher in the rye and talks about the symbolism of rye in the book and tae's like :0 das wildly inaccurate but you're kinda cute so here's my number so we can talk more about rye and y/ns like :0

➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader

➺ genre; wowowow handsome & well-read bookkeeper!taehyung, fluff!!!! the kind of fluff that makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a warm blanket sipping on a mug of hot chocolate on a nice autumn’s day when the leaves are just starting to turn red and orange, y/n’s kind of a dummy but in a very loveable kind of way, featuring namjoon the (sort of) wingman

➺ wordcount; 6.2k

➺ summary; the catcher in the rye? oh, sure - of course you know that book! it’s about catching loaves of bread, right?

➺ what to expect; “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

➺ note; our (first??) drabble of the month as voted by you guys! i finished writing this the day after it was decided that bookkeeper!tae was the winner because that’s how excited i was about him >:-) enjoy!

»»————-　➴　————-««

“and… open your eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your arms up into the air excitedly as namjoon takes his hands away from his eyes

he blinks owlishly before looking up and-

“you brought me to a bookstore!” he gasps, a smile immediately spreading over his features as he claps his hands together, “oh, this is great! usually, you bring me to those awful rock-climbing places, or that horribly violent paintball gun place, and even when you brought me to the movie theatre the tickets were for that gory r-rated horror movie-”

“okay, let’s not get carried away-” you hold a finger out to shut namjoon up before he can list out moRe reasons as to why you seem more like you hate him instead of love him, “the point is: this time, i brought you to a bookstore!” you smile proudly before crossing your arms

not to toot your own horn or anything but you did a pretty good job with this surprise

you even did tons of research to find the best bookstores in the city!!

which was difficult because namjoon’s been to like.,,. EVERY bookstore in the city

but not this one!

to be fair, it was a long forty-five minute car ride to get here so you understand why he’s never come out here himself

“…this isn’t like… a weird bookstore or anything, right?” namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before taking a step back and looking up at the name of the store again

the secret garden

oh!!!!

like the book!!!!

how clever :D

“what do you mean?” you frown, placing your hands on your hips before glancing back up at the name as well

the secret garden

kind of a lame name for a bookstore

“like a…” namjoon trails off before clearing his throat, “you know, like a bookstore that’s actually a sex dungeon or something like that-”

“ew!” you immediately make a face before shaking your head quickly, “wha- why would you even say that?!”

“well, i don’t know!” namjoon holds his hands up in defence, “i’ve never been to this bookstore before-!”

“this is a regular ol’ bookstore, joon. i promise!” you clap your hands on his shoulders before giving him a squeeze, “just the way you like it! old, dusty, and full of nothing but boring books.”

namjoon beams

that’s exactly what he likes to hear

see, today is your seven year friendaversary with namjoon

you guys have known each other since middle school and noW the two of you are in your final year of university which is crazy

and so, for the past seven years, you’ve gone out on this day to celebrate your beautiful friendship because honestly you’ll take whatever excuse to go to a restaurant to try to get free dessert (“yeah, we’re celebrating our anniversary! so, i’ll take three orders of your chocolate lava cake-”)

you guys usually take turns where one year one of you will plan an entire day of fun activities for the other, and then the next year, the other person will do it because that seems like a relatively fair system

last year, namjoon took you to this cute pottery place and you ended up making these adorable matching friendship mugs

they’re both a little lopsided but that’s just part of their charm!!

namjoon painted his a beige-brown and you painted yours a BRIGHT purple and then you traded mugs (so that when he comes over to your apartment, he has his mug, and when you go over to his apartment, you have your mug!)

he also insisted that you guys carve your guys’ initials on the bottom of yours and draw a heart around it which you thought was a little much but you are… very fond of namjoon so you’d jump off a cliff if he asked you to

admittedly, most of the things that you’ve planned during your years have been catered to your own personal desires so you’ve been a little unfair but namjoon’s always been too much of a sweetheart to say anything about it

and for the most part, he’s a pretty good sport even though it’s blatantly obvious that he’d rather chop a toe off than spend the afternoon doing your chosen activity

the last time it was your turn two years ago, you took him to a go-cart track and spent the entire two hours practically driving circles around him because he was driving like ten kilometres an hour

the only reason why he wasn’t driving like one is supposed to drive on a go-cart track (i.e. like a maniac) is because he was worried that if he went too fast he’d get a ticket or something

and kim namjoon does not get speeding tickets

not on the real road and most certainly not on a man-made road either!

for the record, he definitely didn’t appreciate you calling him a slowpoke and telling him to eat my dust, bitch! and he still brings it up from time to time whenever he wants to guilt you into doing something with him (“i’m not switching muffins with you. it’s not my fault you don’t like yours!” “…hey, remember that time you called me a slowpoke and told me to-” “take the muffin.”)

anyways

he’s glad that this is just a normal bookstore and that he doesn’t have to worry about whether or not one of your activities is going to end in him losing a limb for the first time

what a wonderful way to end the day!!

actually, you guys still have to grab dinner after this where you’ll try to squeeze as many free desserts out of the restaurant as possible as per usual so this is a wonderful way to almost end the day

the little bell hanging above the door chimes as the two of you step in and almost immediately you’re greeted with the warm smell of what you’re pretty sure is hot chocolate??

“i love this place already.” namjoon breathes out, his jaw dropping in awe, “i wanna live here!”

“okay, keep it in your pants-” the door starts to shut and you nudge namjoon forward to keep from getting your butt nipped by the door

you don’t even get a chance to say anything else before namjoon suddenly darts off

so much for keeping it in his pants

you pause when you get a good look at the place

huh

for some reason you feel like a lot of instagram pictures have been taken here

it’s obviously an antique place but it’s like one of those trendy antique places

a brass chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the (fake) candles casting a golden glow over the entire store

there’s a spiral staircase that curls up to the second floor

the walls are covered with floor to ceiling shelves stacked with, duh, books, but even for what you thought would just be a dusty old bookstore… it’s pretty nice in here!

there’s even an archway in the centre of the place that leads to what looks like a pretty cozy reading space for customers which is a nice touch

and there are people sipping on mugs of hot chocolate too!!!

you can’t help but wonder if you need to be reading a book in order to get a mug of cocoa

you like the hot chocolate part but you’re not as excited about the reading part

“y/n, come on!” you look over to see namjoon - who already has three books cradled in his arms - waving you over enthusiastically, “check it out! it’s a vintage boxed set of the chronicle of narnia series! and they’re leatherbound-“ he practically moans before nudging you towards it, “help me take it out?”

“narnia?” you snort, tilting your head so you can look at the titles pressed into the spine of the book, “isn’t narnia, like… for kids?”

the last time you read the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe was when you had to read it for a book report in like the fourth grade

you glance over your shoulder to look at namjoon who now has an unimpressed frown on his face

“what??”

“…you insult me.” he sniffles, “just help!”

you roll your eyes playfully before turning back to pull the thick set out of the shelf and-

“hello!”

“-!”

the sudden sound of a stranger’s voice nearly makes you drop the set but you manage to prop the edge of the box back up onto the shelf before it falls and breaks all the bones in your foot

you turn to look at whoever-

oh my

hello indeed

“welcome to the secret garden.” he smiles kindly, tilting his head at you, “did you need any help with that, miss?”

oh good god

his voice makes you feel like you’re wading through a river of warm caramel

and you’d happily let yourself drown in that river

two seconds go by where you don’t respond at all and instead you continue staring at mr. caramel with very obvious hubba-hubba eyes

“i think we’re good, thank you!” namjoon clears his throat, elbowing your back gently before offering a smile of his own

“oh, alright! well, my name’s taehyung,” taehyung reaches up to adjust his glasses, “please let me know if you need assistance of any kind - i’ll just be up at the front. if you’re just here to relax and read, i’d be happy to whip up two mugs of hot chocolate for the two of you!”

“awesome! thank you.” namjoon nods all while you continue smiling at taehyung dazedly

he waits until taehyung disappears before turning back and looking at you

“…what’s wrong with you?”

“i’m good, thank you…” you whisper your very delayed response and namjoon moves his head so that he’s blocking your view when you lean back a little to try to look at taehyung sitting behind the front counter, “holy moly. i’d let him explore my secret garden-”

“oh, now look who can’t keep it in their pants-“

“hey, you should look at this as a good thing!” you grunt as you adjust the hefty box in your arms, “now i’ll willingly drive you back here… whenever you want.”

namjoon’s eyes immediately light up

»»————-　➴　————-««

you and namjoon end up returning to the bookstore about two weeks later

last time, namjoon wanted to stay longer (and so did you, honestly) buT you were pretty close to losing your dinner reservations and you weren’t about to give up your free chocolate lava cake just to stare at the cute bookkeeper from afar like a creep

so you had to leave!

namjoon ended up leaving with the boxed set and a couple other books so suffice to say, he was pretty happy

and when you suggested visiting the bookstore again this week… well, namjoon had to jump on that opportunity, didn’t he??

you?? offering to take him to a bookstore?? again??

you’re obviously only using him as an excuse to go into the bookstore so you can spend hours watching taehyung like a weirdo but he’ll take it

namjoon hums happily as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate before licking a little bit of whipped cream off his top lip

he wonders if taehyung would be willing to share the recipe to it because this is honestly the best hot chocolate he’s ever had

namjoon looks up from his book when he hears you let out a sigh for the tenth time in the last two minutes

oh god

look at you!

“oh… and he’s good with kids, too?” you sigh blissfully as you prop your elbow up on the arm of the sofa chair before leaning your cheek against your fist

you watch fondly as taehyung gets down on one knee, holding two fists out for a little girl

she taps his right hand shyly before quickly wrapping her arms back around her mom’s leg, peeking at him from behind it shyly

taehyung flips his wrist around and uncurls his fingers to reveal a single caramel, his face lighting up briefly as she takes it from his open palm into her little hand

“i don’t know why you can’t just go up and talk to him-” namjoon snorts at how lovestruck you look before peering around the corner of the archway to look at taehyung too, “it’s not a big deal. he’s really nice!”

“i can’t just go up and talk to him. are you kidding me?” you frown, shaking your head, “what am i supposed to say??”

“tell him you need help finding a book!” namjoon states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world (because it is) before slapping the book on his lap shut, “just out of curiosity - what book would you ask him to help you find?”

you lean back against the sofa chair before twisting your lips in thought

book?

what book…

what was the last book you read…?

ooh!

“esio trot!” you perk up, namjoon’s eyebrows knitting together in confusion because he has no idea what just came out of your mouth-

“esio- oh my god, esio trot as in the roald dahl children’s novel??” namjoon frowns, “no! you can’t go up to taehyung and ask him to help you find esio friggin’ trot-”

“okay, you don’t see me making fun of you for buying what you bought last week, mr. chronicles of narnia-”

“you did make fun of me!” namjoon gawks, “in fact, you’re still making fun of me for it-” he waves his hand to cease the conversation, “listen to me. from the very few times that i’ve spoken to taehyung, it’s clear that he’s… cultured, you know?”

“cultured… like yogurt.” you joke, slapping your own knee gently, “get it?? because yogurt is cultured? cultured yogurt??”

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes

see?

this is exactly what he’s talking about

“…yes, y/n. i get it. anyways, as i was saying- taehyung is just very…” namjoon kisses his teeth as he tries to think of how to phrase his words, “…well-read… intelligent… scholarly… refined…”

you tilt your head in curiosity as namjoon continues listing out a bunch of snooty sounding adjectives

wait a minute

“are you-” you scoff, straightening up in your seat, “are you calling me dumb??”

hey!!

you’re not dumb!!!

it’s not like books are super complicated to figure out or anything

all you have to do is read what’s inside of it and you certainly know how to read!!!

and sure, sometimes you still don’t know if receive is spelt receive or recieve or if business is spelt buisness or biusness, but that doesn’t mean that you’re dumb!!

“no, no, i’m not calling you dumb!” namjoon shakes his head quickly, “i’m just saying that if you had a choice, you would choose a movie over a book-”

“well, yeah - obviously i would choose a movie over a book.” you snort, “why would i waste eight hours reading tiny little words on stiff white pages when i could be watching a movie that compresses the entire story in a convenient one hour and a half??”

“i’m your friend, and i don’t want to watch you make a fool of yourself!” namjoon argues, “because if you do, then you’ll be too embarrassed to ever come back here again, which means that i’ll never be able to come back here again-”

“what’s stopping you from coming here by yourself?”

“because every time i tell you that i’m going to the bookstore, you’re going to ask me a bunch of taehyung related questions when i get back-”

okay

that’s a fair point

that sounds like something you would do for sure

“alright, fine!” you huff before crossing your arms, “what book do you suggest i go up there and ask him to help me find?”

namjoon twists his lips in thought

hm…

“catch her in the eye!” you chirp, folding your hands behind you book as you smile brightly at taehyung

namjoon feels his own face flush at how confidently you just said that and he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaMING

he told you to ask taehyung to help you find the catcher in the rye

NOT CATCH HER IN THE EYE

“the catcher in the rye?” taehyung nods, “sure! of course i can help you find the catcher in the rye.” he returns a smile as he steps out from behind the counter, “follow me, please!”

you shoot namjoon a big thumbs up and a faT grin as you pass by the entrance of the archway and he gives you a weak one in return before turning back and slumping against the couch

oh boy

…he’s never going to come back to this beautiful bookstore, is he?

“you were here about two weeks ago, weren’t you?” taehyung asks as he looks over his shoulder, the two of you trotting up the spiral staircase, “with your… boyfriend, right? you guys bought the boxed narnia set.”

“hm? oh!” you let out a little laugh, “yes, that was us, but joon- namjoon’s just my friend. um, that day was actually our seven-year friendaversary and he’s a real dork for books so i thought it’d be nice to bring him here-”

it’s in that moment that you suddenly hear namjoon’s voice in your head reminding you that you’re supposed to act like yoU like reading too

“i mean-” you clear your throat, “i, too, really like books, so i- you know, it was a mutually pleasant experience for the both of us t-to be here-” you chuckle nervously

hopefully you were able to save your own ass there

that was a close call!!

you trail behind taehyung as the two of you weave in and out of the bookshelves

you didn’t get a chance to come up to the second floor last week

but it’s surprisingly nice up here!!

there’s a lone sofa chair in the corner with a little coffee table sitting next to it

very nice for customers who prefer to read alone

“ah, well, that’s very thoughtful of you!” taehyung nods before suddenly pausing, “i’m so sorry-” he spins around and you nearly bump into his chest but you manage to stop yourself just in time, “i just realised i never got your name.”

“y/n. i’m- i’m y/n.” you stick your hand out quickly for him to shake

you feel a little zap! travel from your fingertips to the rest of your body as soon as taehyung takes your hand in his

he gives you a gentle shake before squeezing your hand lightly and then letting go, “well, it’s very nice to meet you, y/n. now, give me a second to find the catcher in the rye for you…”

taehyung turns to thumb through the books on the shelf and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as how pretty he looks from the side

wowie

you can’t help but take your bottom lip in between your teeth as you continue to admire taehyung’s features from the soft swoosh of his hair to the rosy pink of his lips

how can one man be so pretty?

“ah- here we are!” taehyung pulls a book out of the shelf and you quickly snap yourself out of your daze, “the catcher in the rye… a novel by j.d. salinger.” he hands it to you and you take it before blinking down at the cover

…the catcher in the rye?

what happened to catch her in the eye???

“it’s a great book.” taehyung hums, “have you read it before?”

“oh, i… i have!” you scoff, making a face, “duh, of course i have. i mean, it’s… you know, it’s such a… um, a powerful novel…” you clear your throat before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “i mean, the last time i read it was actually in… high school… so… you know, i’ve forgotten most of the details but i figured it’d be nice to get a refresher, you know?”

(you never read this in high school.)

((you just made namjoon summarise the entire book to you in the form of a poorly drawn stickman comic and even then you still didn’t fully understand the story.))

“absolutely! there’s nothing wrong with revisiting old friend from the past,” taehyung chuckles lightly, “in fact, i was reading animal farm the other day- what kind of literature do you typically read?”

you press your lips together tightly

oh god

namjoon didn’t prepare you for additional questions

literature??

quick!

what kind of literature do you typically read??

…

tell him you read all kinds of literature!

that sounds like a legitimate answer, right?

“i... read… all-”

you’re cut off by the sound of a bell chiming from below and you let out a breath of relief when taehyung scurries past you to peer over the balcony

“i’ll be right there!” he holds a finger up at the customer waiting by the front counter before spinning around to face you again, “was there anything else you needed, y/n?”

“wha- i-” you stammer, unable to come up with a non-creepy reason to keep him up here with you, “no! no, this was-” you give the front cover a hearty slap, “this was all i needed-”

“perfect!” taehyung claps his hands together, “well, let me know. you know where i am!”

he disappears down the staircase before you even get a chance to thank him

the smell of his cologne lingers in the air as you make your way down the staircase and you can’t help but beat yourself up over how your interaction with taehyung went

it wasn’t a bad interaction or anything

in fact, you think you did a pretty good job at acting like a bookworm!!

it’s just that…

you don’t think it was a particularly memorable interaction for taehyung

that was just a typical customer interaction for him

you were supposed to charm him!!!

impress him!!

sweep him off his feet!!!

tickle his brain!!

“hey, buddy…” namjoon coos as you plop back down on the sofa chair, “how… did it go?”

he’s afraid to hear your answer because it certainly looks like it didn’t go super well

damnit

he knows this moment is about you but now he’s thinking about how he’ll probably never be able to taste this delicious hot chocolate ever again

“got the book.” you grumble, tossing it onto the coffee table before shaking your head, “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

“yeah, i… uh, i heard you.” namjoon nods understandingly, crossing one leg over the other before leaning back against the couch, “i don’t think he heard you say that, though! i mean, he knew what you were looking for right away.”

namjoon knows you well enough to see that you’re currently spiralling down a self-pity hole right now

oh boy

“hey, you know what’ll make you feel better?” he leans forward to give your knee a comforting squeeze

“what?”

“how about i buy this for you so you can read it and fully impress taehyung next time with your newfound knowledge-“ namjoon points to the book you’ve abandoned on the table, “and then we can go for chocolate lava cake!”

your eyes widen slightly

“free chocolate lava cake?”

“no, not free-“ namjoon snorts, getting up from the couch before reaching back to pick up his bag, “i mean, i’ll pay for it. my treat! so, yeah. i guess it’s kinda free for you.”

“that sounds nice!” your frown is almost instantaneously replaced by a grin, “if i get more free things from you just for being sad, i’m going to be sad more often-”

“what?? no! do not pretend to be sad just to get me to pay for things-”

taehyung glances over from the front counter when he hears a twinkly laugh and he can’t help but smile lightly at the sight of you giggling away in the sofa chair

your nose scrunches slightly as you let out a little snort and he presses his lips together to keep himself from beaming too wide

y/n, huh? cute.

»»————-　➴　————-««

(taehyung can’t stop thinking about you and your absurdly cute face.)

»»————-　➴　————-««

it’s another two weeks later that you come back to the secret garden - but this time, you come alone.

and to be honest, you… don’t know if this was a good idea or not

because joon was with you for the last two times and you were definitely using him as a security blanket so now you feel like you’re about to dive into the deep end of the pool without any floaties

you were going to ask if he wanted to come with you but you felt like this was something that you had to do alone

you swallow thickly as you tuck your car keys into your pocket

namjoon can’t be your bookworm wingman forever, right?

the store is almost suspiciously quiet as you step in, the little bell ringing above your head as per usual

your classes ended a little later today which is why you weren’t able to come in the afternoon

pluS you had to find a way to get namjoon to go home without you without raising any eyebrows so that sucked up a little more of your time

you were going to tell him that you were going to stay on campus to study at the library but even you couldn’t believe that

so you told him that you had a group project to work on which was why you couldn’t have dinner with him tonight!

you jump in surprise when the door suddenly slams shut behind you from the breeze

it’s a little chillier now that it’s november but it’s nice that you get to wear cozy cardigans and snuggly sweaters now

“i’ll be right there!”

you hear taehyung’s voice ring out from the second floor and you swallow your nerves as you stand up a little straighter

fake it till you make it, right?

i love books

i love books so much

i love books so much that i would fuck a book if i could!

...okay, maybe not that one.

you glance around the store - there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here

which makes sense because the sign says that the store closes at 7pm on weekdays and it’s…

6:50

wow

so you’RE the asshole who comes into the place ten minutes before closing time

good one!

“so sorry for the wait, i was just-” taehyung pauses on the steps, his face immediately lighting up when he sees you, “oh, y/n!”

“hi!” you chirp before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “sorry i came ten minutes before you’re supposed to close… i wanted to come earlier, but i had a thing…”

“oh, don’t even worry about it!” taehyung snorts, tossing the dirty rag over his shoulder, “i was just doing some dusting…”

you feel your mouth go drY as soon as you notice what he’s wearing

he’s wearing a henley tee (except all the buttons are undone and aLso he has his sleeves pushed up to his elbows), dark wash jeans, and a pair of tattered black converse sneakers

it’s just the casualness of it all that makes it so sexy

“so, what can i help you with tonight?” taehyung tosses the rag onto the counter before pushing his glasses back down from the top of his head

he adjusts them slightly before blinking at you and you find it awfully cute that his doe eyes now look a little bigger through the thick lenses

what can he help you with tonight?

…yeah, what can he help you with tonight?

the downside of not telling namjoon about your solo mission is the fact that namjoon’s usually the one who plans every little detail out for you

and you just came here on a whim

you don’t have a plan

you don’t have a plan at all!

your plan was to just come to the bookstore to see taehyung because you wanted to see taehyung

“i…”

“oh, by the way-” taehyung perks up suddenly, “how was your little trip down memory lane with the catcher in the rye?”

the catcher in the rye?

the catcher in the rye!!!

ah! yes!!

that’s definitely something to talk about!

…wait a second

you-

you didn’t read the book

oh god

you had two weeks to read the book and you didn’t read the book

almost immediately you feel your anxiety sPike back up and you can’t help but scold yourself for not bringing namjoon along with you

if namjoon was here, you’d just get him to say all the main points and you’d stand right next to him throwing in the occasional ‘yes, very good point!’ and ‘of course, i completely agree’ every now and then!

“the catcher in the rye!” you blurt out, suddenly aware that you haven’t spoken in like ten seconds, “i- yes! the book was- it was great. i thoroughly enjoyed it. i would definitely read it again!”

“hey, that’s great!” taehyung laughs lightly, “you know- i mean, i have to ask because i always ask this question to people who’ve read it- what do you think the main theme of it is?” taehyung hums, “because i’ve always thought it focused a lot on alienation, you know? i mean, a loss of innocence is obviously another theme, what, with holden wanting to be sheltered from the harshness of adult life- i really think it can actually be seen as some kind of social commentary… like a critique of the superficiality in society-”

“of course, i completely agree!” you nod furiously, “those are very good points-”

“i’m sorry, i’m probably sucking up all the oxygen in the room-” taehyung smiles sheepishly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “so what do you think?”

if there was ever a moment for a black hole to appear in the floor and swallow you whole… you’d want for it to happen right now.

actually, you’d want it for it to happen whilst you were driving to the bookstore so that you wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to say hi to taehyung

“i think… well, i… first of all, i agree completely with everything that you just said about aliens and… you know, a loss of innocence and how hard adult life is…” you stumble over your words, your face beginning to flush from how idiotic you probably sound, “i just… i have to talk about my favourite part in the book! you know, the part where holden- holden, that’s the name that you just mentioned- he… he does such a great job at catching those loaves of bread. i thought that part was hilarious.”

you clear your throat at the end of your mini-review

taehyung’s eyes flicker slightly and for a second you think you’re in danger of being called out for obviously noT having read the book but…

he nods slowly and brings his hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully, “i mean… yeah. i completely agree! that part always gets me! why don’t you go on? i’m interested in hearing more of your thoughts.”

oh!

hey, would you look at that??

phEW

maybe you’re better at improvising than you thought you were

now knowing that you’re on the right track gives you a booST of confidence and you give yourself a mental pat on the back

you can’t wait to tell namjoon about this

he’s going to be so proud of you!!

you grin before nodding enthusiastically, “of course! i have a lot of thoughts to share on the book. i mean, i personally think it was an interesting choice on the author’s part to choose rye as the main ingredient, because he had… so many other options that he could’ve gone with! and also - did he go with light rye or dark rye?? because throughout the entire novel, he never actually specifies what kind of rye bread he’s referring to-”

taehyung leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, smiling politely as he continues to listen to your rye bread rant

it’s obvious that you definitely didn’t read the book but he was genuinely curious as to what you would be able to pull out of your ass which was why he asked you to go on

he doesn’t think anyone’s ever gone into a full-blown ramble about how the catcher in the rye is actually a narrative on the benefits on rye bread for lil ol’ him before

but, for the record…

it’s really cute how much effort you’re putting into your analysis to try to impress him

“i’m sorry, i need to- i need to interrupt you-” taehyung giggles, cutting you off right as you’re about to dive into a discussion about the number of loaves holden caught in the novel, “as much as i would love to hear more… everything that’s coming out of your mouth is wildly inaccurate, y/n.”

what

...

oh my god.

“wh-” your throat goes dry and you choke a little, “what?”

“be honest- did you read the book?” taehyung asks flat-out and you feel your cheeks burning up again

uh-oh

“i…”

okay

forget it

you can’t do this anymore!

it’s too stressful!!!!

“…no.” you press your lips together before shooting taehyung a sheepish grin, “there’s no catching loaves of bread in the novel, is there?”

“not even one loaf.”

“oh, god-” you groan quietly, reaching up to cover your hot face with your hands at the realisation that you just very confidently ranted about the importance of rye bread in this novel for the past five minutes, “not even one?!”

mortifying!

absolutely mortifying!!!!

well

it’s time to tell namjoon to find a new favourite bookstore because you are nevER bringing him back here agai-

“hey, it’s totally fine!” taehyung laughs lightly, stepping closer to you so that he can pry your hands away from your flushed face, “i actually think it’s really impressive how long you can go talking about bread-”

“you let me- you knew that i hadn’t read the book yet you let me continue talking about bread-?!” you gawk, taehyung now bursting into a full-blown chortle as he throws his head back, “how could you??”

“i couldn’t help it!!” taehyung wheezes, reaching up to flick a stray tear away, “i’m sorry! i’m sorry, really, i am-”

even when he’s laughing at you, your stomach can’t help but feel fluttery

“you’re lucky you’re pretty-” you snort, shaking your head gently, “otherwise i would be way more mad at you…”

taehyung’s laughs dwindle down into light chuckles and you swallow thickly when he takes a small step closer

“you’re lucky you’re pretty.” he retorts playfully, reaching over to move a strand of hair away from your eyes with his pinky finger, “otherwise i wouldn’t have let you talk my ear off about bread for five whole minutes…”

...he thinks you’re pretty?

“oh yeah?” you challenge, reaching over to jab your finger into his chest

taehyung reaches up to wrap his fingers around your wrist before offering you a particularly boyish smirk, “mm, yeah.”

you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second and you know it’s way too soon but you really want him to just lean down and kiss you…

“hey, do you like dessert?” taehyung pulls away suddenly before turning to make his way behind the counter

“de- dessert?” you ask dumbly, still a little dazed from... that

what was that?!

“mhm!” tae leans down slightly and flips a couple of switches underneath the counter, the chandelier light shutting off first before the other little lights begin to switch off as well, “there’s a little diner about a block away that makes really good strawberry cheesecakes.”

“i love dessert!” you nod, “and strawberry cheesecake sounds really yummy.”

“good! in that case, would you be interested in sharing a slice of cheesecake with me and perhaps delving deeper into your rye-based analysis?” taehyung teases as he grabs his coat off the back of his chair, his keys jingling in his hands

you snort lightly

“i would love to share a slice of cheesecake with you but i refuse to embarrass myself further, so we’re going to have to find something else to talk about-”

taehyung holds the door open for you and you immediately shiver as you step out, the chilly air a stark contrast from the warmth of tae’s cozy store

you jolt in surprise when taehyung reaches down and slips his fingers in between yours (which he later explains he only did because his hand was cold and definitely noT because he just really really wanted to hold your hand) before beginning to tug you along next to him

“well, we can talk about the fact that you thought the name of the book was catch her in the eye-”

“i knew you heard me! i knew it!!”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

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