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mommymooze · 3 years

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A Cleric and a Prince

Dimitri x Reader

Cannon typical violence, deep splinters, personal threats

Being a healer at Garreg Mach is a challenging job. Working with Manuela in the infirmary is a mixture of emotions. Happy to help others, sad that she has so many personal issues, anxious when someone arrives with serious wounds, hilarious when the students tell you exactly how they become (not seriously) hurt before arriving in the infirmary.

You have not yet been instructed regarding the fine points of battle. If the students need healing battalions, you are part of the Seiros Sacred Monks, helping Mercedes. Your group frequently accompanies the Blue Lions in battles as well as working with them in the monastery, being available to heal them after rough sparring sessions and general needs.

Eventually, a few members of your battalion are assigned to specific members of the class. You are assigned to Dimitri and Dedue. You cannot handle Felix’s antagonistic personality. Sylvain, well, he was given a male healer so that he will focus on what is hurt versus being Sylvain.

After a few battles Dimitri and Dedue realize that you are their assigned healer. It is not announced to the troops, however they notice the same healers heading to assist the same team members. Dimitri asks you to sit with him and Dedue during meals quite often. Dedue speaks with you frequently during your time together in the greenhouse. Healing herbs don’t plant themselves.

You’ve become good friends with both of them. Cheering them both on when they enter the lance tournaments. Joining them in the training grounds, healing their injuries, or the injuries of their opponents more likely, after a long sparring session.

Things fall apart after the battle that occurs in the Holy Tomb. Dimitri is acting strange and distant. Dedue shields you from him at times. Dimitri’s health is suffering, you can tell that he’s not eating and sleeping properly. You help Dedue mix other herbs into the prince’s tea, hoping to get him to sleep occasionally. You find out about Dimitri’s ageusia and load up on the sleeping herbs. Dimitri is a big guy and there are enough herbs in this batch to knock out a horse. He finally sleeps for a night, Dedue cannot force the tea on him every day, he gives it to him as often as he can.

The battle when they lose the Professor is devastating. Dimitri is seriously injured, you keep him from the brink of death. As soon as he is mobile, Dimitri disappears with Dedue following him.

Remaining with the Knights of Seiros you are trained to fight like everyone else. Nearly five years are spent searching for Rhea, fighting Imperial troops, and thieves. Returning to the monastery after the anniversary of the millennium festival, the place is a mess, in worse condition than when you marched away with the rest of the Knights. The Blue Lions return. Dimitri is with them, at least the shell of him is here.

You attempt many times to speak with him while he keeps his vigil at the base of the shattered statue of the goddess.

“The Dimitri you once knew is dead, only this repulsive blood-covered monster remains!” he screeches at you as you enter with a tray of food from the kitchens.

You have learned to bring things that can survive his rage. Any food or drink you bring near him is immediately upended or thrown against the wall. In times of true hunger, the Boar forages, grabbing the chunk of sausage or meat skewers, now stale bread and raw vegetables from the floor.

The times that he is lucid are few. Infrequently, the Professor can have a partial conversation with him. If you catch him while he sleeps or as soon as he wakes, he may let you approach to clean a few wounds and heal him.

Felix scoffs at you, telling you that you are wasting your time and effort on a beast, a worthless animal. Yet Felix is there, every day, just like you, watching over him.

The army heads for Ailell, obtaining additional troops and Rodrigue joins them. Rodrigue can have a few conversations with Dimitri, however Dimitri’s anger still controls him. It is only when they take over the Great Bridge at Myrddin that a change is sparked in him, when Dedue rejoins the Blue Lions.

Now, when food is brought, it is handed to Dedue, who will not allow his highness to throw the trays. Dedue directs the prince not to use his rage upon those that come to aid him. He even convinces Dimitri to remove his armor, a few pieces at a time, to be cleaned and repaired. Dimitri allows the Professor or you to approach, assisting with cleansing his wounds, healing, and clearing his infections.

The army marches for Gronder Field. You stand amongst the troops in his battalion, waiting for the order to proceed. Suddenly it is time to advance. Dimitri and Dedue sprint far ahead of their battalions, they are immediately surrounded by enemies. The battalions fight their best, you alongside them. Perhaps nobody will notice if you cast physic on Dimitri. Dedue is a brick wall, or at least is made of stone, he does not get injured often. The Blue Lions fiercely move forward, Dimitri is determined to reach Edelgard and end her life.

Dedue assists by clearing the last armored Imperial fighter in Dimitri’s way as the leaders of the opposing troops battle. You are fighting Edelgard’s battalion members, preventing them from attacking Dimitri and Dedue. A sudden roar comes from Dimitri as Edelgard is warped away by Hubert. His prize taken from him, Dimitri lashes out at her remaining battalion members, crushing heads and ripping off arms, rending flesh.

The sounds of battle dissipate. You are called to the medical tents to assist with healing. Suddenly the word spreads around camp that Rodrigue has fallen. You cry, not just for Rodrigue, but for Dimitri, whose rage was calming due to Rodrigue and Dedue’s work, and for Felix, who is now alone.

Dimitri solemnly returns to Garreg Mach, Dedue at his side as they escort the body of his dear departed friend.

After the funeral, you march to the Cathedral, arms full of bandages and cleansing cloths. Dimitri would not let you treat his wounds after the battle, during the march or the service. Dedue convinced Dimitri to bathe for the wake. You approach them both as Dedue helps you undress Dimitri from the waist up. As you clean his wounds to avoid further infection, heal him, apply salves, and bandage him, Dimitri looks at you for the first time in forever.

“I am sorry for your loss. I know Rodrigue was like a father to you.” You tell him softly as you wrap a bandage around his left arm.

“He told me I should live for my ideals.” Dimitri swallows, his voice trembles, “Rather than stay shackled by the ghosts of the past.”

“Learn from the past, live for the future.” You smile at him, smoothing some salve to his left ribs. “I know you can do it. Rodrigue believed in you. I do too.”

“My apologies for any problems I have caused you.” He says then hangs his head.

Tying off the bandage on his chest you hug him. “All is forgiven. Rest easy.” You whisper.

He’s not sure what to do, he lifts you into his lap and surrounds you with his arms lightly touching your back, fearful of his great strength. He sobs into your shoulder as you softly whisper comforting words to him patting his back and rubbing his shoulders.

When his tears end, you ask Dedue to get a small towel wet. You place it on Dimitri’s face to cool his forehead eyes and nose. While pressing it to his face, you cast a faith spell to reduce the pain and swelling from crying. After a few minutes you peek underneath the cloth over his good eye.

“How’s it going?” You softly ask.

His blue eye looks at yours. “Better.”

You climb from his lap and he stands, taking a deep breath. “I should probably speak with Byleth.” He coughs into his hand. “Thank you.” He says bowing.

“I’m always at your service.” You smile.

The battle in Fhirdiad is awful. You had not been to the capital of Faerghus too frequently, it is painful to see so many lives ruined, buildings and homes demolished. The citizens are rebelling against the Imperial army, doing their best to help. Although the commoners are brave, you cannot help but feel grief-stricken when they are killed. The people are not trained fighters, however they feel so heart strong for their land and kingdom.

The battle against Cornelia is harrowing, under the tactical eye of Byleth and strong will of Dimitri, the Blue Lions are triumphant. Bells ring throughout the city proclaiming the victory. Citizens are jubilant, dancing in the streets. A celebratory feast is held in the castle.

You are in the infirmary, healing and patching up anyone that comes for treatment. Working long hours into the night, you collapse into an empty infirmary bed for a well-deserved rest. The morning comes quickly. Dedue arrives asking for assistance with Dimitri’s wounds. The serious injuries for soldiers have been addressed, ensuring that the soon to be King is healthy is the next item on the priority list.

“Thank you for coming to my aid.” Dimitri humbly addresses you as you enter his room. “I did not see you at the feast. I was told you were working with the other clerics, healing those that could be helped. I feel guilty asking for your assistance.”

“We need you to lead us.” You smile. “It makes no sense to let you become ill from infection.”

As you treat his wounds and bandage him, you tell him stories of his brave people. How they worked together to aid in the fighting, putting out fires to save buildings, pulling other citizens away from the battles, and how all of them support him.

Dimitri again lets his thoughts go back to when he was lost and out of control. You reassure him that the people have forgiven him. They cannot lead themselves, not yet anyway. Everyone can heal together. Rebuild the city, rebuild the people. Put people into place that are good rulers, good people to look up to and respect.

The conversation goes on, you did not realize that the two of you are talking for hours. It is quite late, he should probably be asleep.

“Come Dimitri, it is time for you to go to bed. Get dressed and I will tuck you in and tell you a story.” You grin at him. He holds you to your word. He calls to you after he is dressed in his nightclothes and under his covers.

You gently tuck him in and blow out all the candles but one. You tell him a fairy tale about a boy, magic beans, an evil goose, and a giant. Your hand is on the bed next to him. Gently he places his on top of yours before the story is done. You take his hand in both of yours, rubbing it warmly between yours as you tell him another story about silly animals that think they can sing and their adventures. When you know he is asleep, you take the candle with you as you leave.

The rest and recovery time in the capital is short lived as the army heads out to Derdriu to assist Claude, the city is under siege. Byleth leads the troops just in time to rescue them. The army turns south to head to Enbarr. One last attempt in negotiating for peace is held with Edelgard, however neither side would give in. Battle is the only way to finish the war.

The battle goes through the streets and heart of the city. So many dead, so much blood everywhere. Everyone gave their all. Edelgard refuses to stand down and her life ends. Dimitri, Byleth, and the rest of the army claim the final victory in the war.

You hound Dimitri for thirty minutes before Dedue steps in, helping remind him that he is injured from the battle and needs treatment. Taking him to a quiet and safe room inside the castle you cleanse his wounds, stitching what he would let you and healing him. You then force him to drink water.

“May I finally return to my duties?” He grumbles.

“Yes, now that I feel like you will not fall over in the middle of them.” You answer. Turning to Dedue you instruct him, “Do not let him stay up all night. He needs to try to eat and sleep.”

“As you wish.” Dedue nods as he follows his liege.

“Wait, you have not been healed as well. Sit and show me your wounds.” You direct him to a chair. Soon Dedue is allowed to follow Dimitri to the multiple destinations on the agenda for the evening.

You head to the temporary infirmary, healing and tending to all the injured, be they from your army or citizens of Enbarr.

Finally, the army leaves for Fhirdiad at the beginning of the Verdant Rain Moon. Everyone is happy to be in the cooler temperatures in the northern part of the continent. You settle in the castle, working in the infirmary, staying in the residence for the healers. In your spare time you volunteer healing the hurt and ailing citizens, working alongside them to help rebuild and recover.

Dimitri’s coronation is a grand affair and a healing event for the city. It is a celebration that proves things are well and that prosperity is just around the corner. You sneak out of the infirmary to watch Dimitri be crowned as King. The cheering of everyone brings tears to your eyes. Their hopes and dreams are now resting on his shoulders.

Finishing work, you arrive at the celebration long after the food has been served, someone had been kind enough to send trays of food to the infirmary and it was shared with the patients that remain there as well. Even the spirits of those still suffering injuries are high and in a celebratory mood.

You clean up, wearing clothing proper enough for a meeting with the king, not really fancy enough for a royal party, it is enough you think as you arrive at the festivities that are ongoing. Dancing, singing, drinking and toasts will most likely continue for the entire night. You look over the crowd, finding Dedue is not difficult, he towers over everyone. You wind your way through the other happy celebrants to stand by his side.

“Good evening, Dedue. Is everything going well?” You ask him.

Dedue leans toward you, whispering. “I am well. His Highness has been quite swept up in the events of the day and should move to retire soon.”

“I agree. It looks like he is being cornered by quite the crowd of potential dance partners, let me see if I can intervene.” You answer with the slightest bit of a grin.

Walking up to the King with an air of authority, you bow and wait for the opportunity to address him. Dimitri appears happily surprised at your presence.

“I am pleased to see you are able to join us. Is there anything I can do for you?” Dimitri smiles, but it appears to be a bit weary.

“My King, as your personal physician, I must remind you that your health is quite important and request that you retire. Your schedule is full of meetings tomorrow and will need your complete attention.” Your attitude and stance are such that nobody wishes to question your authority.

“My apologies, ladies. But I must leave the festivities for now, healers orders.” Dimitri smiles sincerely as the women surround him groan in disappointment and disburse, looking for another noble to taunt.

Escorting the King to Dedue, the three of you leave the venue, proceeding toward the King’s residential area of the castle. Once the three of you are far enough away, he stops.

“Thank you so much for rescuing me.” Dimitri gasps. “I felt like the last piece of meat at a butcher shop.”

“Living up to your name, Di-meat-tri.” You succumb to the terrible pun.

He laughs as you head to his quarters. You excuse yourself as you reach his door.

“No, please, come in.” Dimitri opens the door for both of you. He heads straight for a chair and holds his leg up for Dedue to pull his boots off.

“Ahhh!” Dimitri gasps. “My feet are killing me! I have been on them all day.”

Pain? He has pain?! We can’t have that. You procure a stool and sit at his feet. Grabbing a leg you place the king’s foot on your lap and massage it, noticing the slight swelling at his ankle from being on his feet all day. Using a bit of faith magic and expert fingers, Dimitri is content. You turn and take his other foot in hand for some healing and muscle manipulation. When you are finished, you look up to see one very asleep Dimitri.

Dedue smiles and you let yourself out the door as he takes Dimitri to his bedroom.

The castle calms down over the next few days, a comforting routine takes over. Dedue unexpectedly calls you to the King’s quarters, there was an accident in the training grounds when Dimitri was sparring with Felix. Dedue advises you of the situation and you bring the necessary tools to come to the King’s aid.

Entering his room, you find Dimitri seated by the window at his desk, looking over paperwork.

“My apologies for having to summon you. It is a trivial matter, however Dedue is concerned about infection.” Dimitri looks embarrassed. He is in his undershirt, his left shoulder and upper arm covered in dark streaks, debris, and blood. Imbedded under his skin are many long and deep splinters.

“This doesn’t look like it came from a weapon.” You observe.

“No, Felix knocked me over and I fell into the wall. I did not know the wood had weathered and well, here I am.” Dimitri says sheepishly.

“A steady hand and some antibiotics will take care of this.” You nod, unrolling the pack of sharp tools and tweezers.

Beginning with a bit of faith magic to numb the area, you take into hand a sharp scalpel, cutting along the length of some of the deeper splinters to make it easier to remove them. A tool in hand with a needle like point lifts the imbedded wood while the other hand manipulates the tweezers pulling at a large piece of wood. The easier pieces to remove are no problem as you place splinter after splinter on a piece of cloth on the table. Next it is time to work on some that are deeper in his flesh.

“Come on, nice and easy. You can do it. Mmmmmm” You softly say, coaxing the splinter from his shoulder. “Yessssss.” You mutter with satisfaction as it comes out in a single piece.

Laying the bloody wooden spike on the cloth you look up at the King, rubbing his forearm. Dimitri listens raptly to your chatter as you work. You are talking to splinters, but some of the words and how you say them are…sultry.

“How are you doing Dimitri? Need me to take a break?” You look into his blue eye that is staring at you, not paying any attention to his papers.

“I’m…I’m fine.” Dimitri stutters as he grabs a paper, holding it up to read, hiding his blush from the enticing words you are using to help coax out the splinters.

You nod, getting back to work. “You naughty thing, stabbing our King. Right there, yes, come out.” You beckon the splinters out as you dig them from his shoulder. Giving a happy sigh you place another large piece of wood onto the cloth.

“I’m going to tear apart the training grounds and find every splintery piece of wood and give them a piece of my mind.” You grumble as you go after a smaller splinter. Moving Dimitri’s shoulder and arm, you place his hand on your knee, giving the right flex to his arm to get to the next splinter.

Dimitri turns his head and coughs a few times. “Ahem.” He is quite embarrassed. He tries very hard not to think about his hand and where it is. Papers…supposed to be reading papers, right.

“Are you feeling okay?” You lean forward to rub circles on his back. “You’re not coming down with a cold, are you?” Your voice is terribly concerned.

“No.” Dimitri shakes his head trying to clear his thoughts. It’s hard to think while his back is being rubbed. “You can continue.” He holds the paper closer to his face so you cannot see the pink tint return to his cheeks.

You continue to verbally coax the splinters from his arm, occasionally giving a squeal when you successfully remove a piece without it breaking. Applying an antiseptic salve, you rub it into the wound.

“I don’t want to heal it quite yet. I’d like to check later and see if anything is left in there. I’ll bandage it for now and check before you change for bed.” You announce as you pick up his arm and place his hand on your shoulder.

“Hold it right there so I can bandage you.” You demand as you begin rolling the bandage around his arm several times to keep the salve on his wounds and prevent it from soiling his clothes. You sit down and slowly move your hands down the rest of his arm, lightly massaging it as you go. Massaging the center of his palm you are satisfied that you have removed them all.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Dimitri?” You stand and slightly bow to him.

He clears his throat, “No, that is all.” He says in his normal deep voice. Then adds a soft, “Thank you.”

Later that evening you knock on Dimitri’s door, beckoned in you see both Dimitri and Dedue looking at the King’s already unwrapped arm.

Dedue stands behind his arm as you approach. Dimitri is seated in a chair pulled close to a large candelabra providing sufficient light. Dedue points out two areas that are redder than the rest, some deep hidden splinters as you had feared. Dimitri’s shoulder is a bit warm to the touch, another sign of an infection brewing. You hand Dedue your tools, there is no table nearby. Casting numbing faith magic, you take your scalpel and cut a small slit into one area that is bright red. Holding the flesh apart with the scalpel and edge of the tweezers you see a black bit that must be another splinter. Quickly you grasp the end with the tweezer and pull out an inch long piece of wood.

“That would have festered into a terrible mess. Let me flush it with some antiseptic.” You pour some liquid from the bottle onto the wound, wiping the excess with a cloth to not cause a mess.

The second irritated spot is more difficult to see. Changing the angle of Dimitri’s arm helps, you take his hand and place it around your right hip.

“Keep your arm there, Dimitri. Don’t move while I have this knife in hand.” You warn as you cut into another deep area where you’ve already removed some splinters.

Dimitri doesn’t move, he’s frozen to the spot. So close, his arm is wrapped partly around you and your hip.

You hand the scalpel to Dedue as you carefully pull with the tweezers. This splinter is not as long, but already showing signs of infection, a pocket of pus surrounding the bloody wood. Pouring antiseptic in again to flush it clean you dab the spot.

“I hope you don’t mind a couple stitches.” You announce to Dimitri as everything happens at once.

Felix slams the door open to the King’s chambers, asking the boar if he ever got the splinters out.

Dimitri panics as his arm is around a woman when Felix enters the room, thus he stands up, pulling his arm into you knocking you backwards. Dimitri and Dedue both lean forward to reach for your falling form at the same time, smacking their heads together, hard. Dedue stays on his feet. You fall onto your back onto the carpet, followed by Dimitri who falls crosswise across your chest grabbing his head and preventing it from hitting the ground.

Felix stands with his mouth agape as you ask him, “Did you get any splinters, Felix?” looking up at him from underneath Dimitri’s prone form.

“Tch. No. But you may want to check to see that he didn’t hit his head as well.” Felix grumbles as he backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.

After a moment you heartily laugh at the whole situation. Dimitri and Dedue join in as everyone scrambles to their feet. You make them take a seat as you feel the bumps on their heads. Healing their heads first then stitching and healing Dimitri’s arm you ask if there is anything else needed this evening.

“No, that will be all.” Dimitri says with a soft smile.

You smile widely back at him. “Thank you for letting me serve you, my King.” You bow and leave the room.

The next day you are up early in the training grounds with two carpenters and their wood planes, smoothing every visible piece of wood in the grounds. Returning to the infirmary you continue healing those injured in mishaps around the castle. A young page knocks on the door and hands you a note and a bouquet of flowers. You are invited to tea with Dimitri this afternoon. You advise the page you accept the invitation.

The infirmary workload is light today. Things are slowly settling down after the coronation. Visitors have left and reconstruction is not as desperate as before, thus less injuries. Leaving the infirmary you head to your room, changing into a nice dress and fixing your hair a bit. You are eager to find out what business the King wishes to speak with you about. Heading to his personal wing of the castle, you knock at his door.

Dedue answers, inviting you in. As you enter, Dedue exits, closing the door behind him. Dimitri is dressed casually, no coat or jacket, simply in his shirtsleeves. As you enter the room, he stands to greet you.

“Please, join me.” Dimitri smiles, holding out his hand as he sits at one end of the settee, a large table with a tea service and sweet treats piled high on a tray. You take a seat on the other end, Dimitri pours tea for you.

“I believe Bergamot is a tea you favor, is that correct?” He smiles as he gently and carefully hands you your cup and saucer.

“Yes. It’s my favorite.” You return the smile as you reach for the honey, letting some drip into your cup, leaving the tea on the table as the contents are still too warm to drink.

Dimitri clears his throat. “I suppose I should get straight to the point. I am sure you are wondering why, out of the blue, I have suddenly invited you to tea. Things have been quite busy with ending the war and then plans for the coronation and the coronation itself. Of course, things are always busy as one is trying to set up the government again after so many years of chaos. It seems like there is a never ending list of meetings and consultations and conferences. And I’m rambling, aren’t I?” He coughs into his hand and swallows, taking a deep breath.

You reach out and touch his hand that is sitting on the settee between you. “Dimitri, we have known each other for years. We have fought together in a war. I have seen you at your worst. I am so happy now seeing you at your best. You can tell me what is on your mind.” You smile at him warmly.

Dimitri relaxes a little and takes a deep breath. “Yes. We have known each other quite some time. You have been by my side, helping me and supporting our efforts. You were there when I was so terribly lost. I thank you for that very much. You believed in me when I needed it the most. Now…” He takes your hand, softly as he can between both of his, staring at you intently, his hands begin to tremble.

Time stops as you look at each other in silence. His voice is soft and low as he speaks, “Would you…would you allowmecourtyou?” He sighs heavily, searching your face desperately for your answer.

First you smile, then you nod, he still looks at you. Figuring he wants to hear your answer you lean forward a bit.

“Yes.” You gasp, bringing your other hand over his hands that still hold yours.

“Yes? Oh yes! Thank you.” He grins happily. If he were a puppy his tail would be wagging hard enough to knock everything off the table. He had been expecting a no, so the yes took a few seconds to register. His cheeks are red, his eye sparkles and he laughs a bit with glee. “I’m just so happy. I don’t know what to do with myself. I had been worried and fretting over your answer, I had no idea what to think if you actually said yes.”

“Well, right now we can sit and chat and have some tea. Perhaps you can tell me of some things that you would like me to do to help you. Your day is filled with doing everything for the country. Perhaps some time can be carved out for doing things for you.” You reach for your teacup, taking a sip.

“Going outside sounds amazing. I’ve been cooped up inside the castle every day. I want to get on a horse and ride. To no place in particular, just feel the wind on my face and sun on my back.” His look is far away with a relaxed smile.

“If it is a nice day, we can take tea together in the gardens. The King should have the ability to make time for a ride at least once a week, if it is a nice day. If they give you too much trouble, I’ll ask your clerics to write a note prescribing a required amount of sunshine for your health.” You smile then take another sip of tea.

The next few days both of you take tea in the gardens together. You are happily surprised when he identifies several different plants.

“My interest in plants came from Dedue. He is always gardening in his free time. I insisted that we include some flowering plants from Duscur in the gardens. I would love to see plants from all over Fodlan here, growing together, just like the country.” He holds out his hand so that you can take his. He is still too cautious of his strength to touch you on his own.

The Harvest Festival calls for the city to be decorated in oranges, reds, yellows, and gold. Many displays and booths line the streets to celebrate the great harvest now that the land is at peace. Dimitri invites you to the event and you arrive alongside him in the royal coach. The path before you is cleared by soldiers surrounding the king for his protection.

Dimitri graciously offers compliments and accolades to all that have worked so hard providing food for everyone. His eye goes wide at the size of some of the pumpkins entered in a competition to see who could grow the largest. Often the two of you stop to admire a street performer entertaining the crowd. One of the rear soldiers drops multiple gold coins into each of the receptacles of the performers.

Suddenly you hear a shriek followed by a wailing cry. You dash off into the crowd, your medical instincts taking over. At the base of a tree, you find a woman crying over her son. The rambunctious six year old had climbed the tree, much to his mother’s dismay, to have a look at the King as he walked past. Unfortunately, the boy did not know the branch he was standing on was weak, it broke sending the child tumbling to the ground. Mother and child are crying as you kneel next to him.

“What is your name, young sir?” You ask him calmly.

He stifles a few tears enough to answer. “Jakob.”

“May I see where you are hurt?” You smile a bit, holding out your hands.

He points to his arm, his wrist is already swelling. He tries to lift it and lets out a wail.

“Shhhh. Hold still.” You hold the arm and wrist in yours as faith magic works into his injury. You hold his arm straight and begin ordering anyone nearby to provide splints and bandages. Immobilizing and wrapping Jakob’s arm, you give instructions to his mother. As you stand, you notice Dimitri is at your side.

“King Dimitri, may I introduce you to my newest friend, Jakob. Jakob, this is King Dimitri.” You smile.

Jakob has the biggest smile across his face as he stands and bows before the king. “It is my pleasant honor to meet you King Dimitri.”

The King bows to Jakob, “It is my pleasure to meet you as well. I suggest you heed your mother’s warning when it comes to climbing trees.” He smiles as he ruffles the boy’s hair.

“Yes sir, King Dimitri sir!” Jacob stammers.

“Please bring him to the castle tomorrow morning so I can check his arm.” You tell his mother. She thanks you several times.

You return to walking along the street with the King, admiring the displays and visiting with the people. A street vendor hawking his booth loudly calls out your direction.

“Oi! Your Kingship! Have a try at me booth! Just one throw is all I ask!” The man’s voice calls out over the crowd as he stands juggling coconuts.

You bump your shoulder into his and giggle as Dimitri shakes his head and concedes. “What is it that you ask of me?”

The man bows so deeply his head nearly touches the ground. “Ahh, Your Kingship! So wonderful to be graced by your presence. I only ask that you throw one of these coconuts at the stack of milk bottles at the rear of my booth. Should you knock them all down, you win!” The showman raises his hand to the target with a practiced flourish then both hands in the air as a sign of victory.

“Go on.” You nudge him again. He looks so cute when he’s put on the spot.

“Very well.” King Dimitri takes one of the offered orbs, staring at it for a moment, then hurls it at the stack. Milk bottles fly in six different directions, most of them landing far from the booth as the target is destroyed, the coconut breaks open on the rear wall of the booth and falls to the ground, shattered.

“What an arm! Your Majesty! Congratulations!” The showman scampers over to a special box and removes a beautiful hand crafted stuffed blue lion in all its majesty. A collar around its neck proudly displays the shield of Blaiddyd. “Me wife crafted it herself, she did. She said if you see the King, you must gift it to him, she said.” He bows as he offers the regal stuffed beast.

King Dimitri bows and thanks him for the beautiful gift, handing it to a nearby soldier to monitor while he continues his stroll. At the end of the lane where the festival ends, the King gives one final wave, thanking his people for their faith and hard work.

Returning to the castle, Dimitri must attend meetings, leaving you to your own business. Taking the stuffed lion in hand you dash to the servant’s quarters, asking for a few specific items. You then head to the infirmary to notify them to find you when Jakob arrives tomorrow so that you may personally check on his wellbeing. You trust your replacements in the infirmary, you had chosen them yourself, however Jakob is a special patient.

Returning to your quarters, which now are close to the King’s own rooms, you find the requested items. With a bit of assistance, you complete the project and request it be delivered to Dimitri’s chambers.

Joining the King and the current guests in a large meeting room, representatives of the former Alliance region are here to discuss their budgets and new laws for the expanded Kingdom. There is a break for dinner followed by discussions continuing until late in the evening. The conversations finally wind down and you know that Dimitri is quite exhausted.

“I believe everyone has made great progress today. Let us all sleep on this and take this up again in the morning.” You announce.

Everyone in the room nods as you escort Dimitri to the exit. Walking down the hallway, your hand in his, Dimitri yawns not once, but twice from exhaustion. Dedue opens the door for the both of you. Following you inside the three of you sit and enjoy a cup of chamomile tea, a lovely habit you have incorporated to get him to wind down before bed. You must leave soon, his eyelids are getting heavy, you hope he sleeps well this night.

“Come with me.” You smile as you take his hand and lead him to his bedroom. Dimitri blushes and looks quite confused as you lead him inside the doorway. You point at his bed and then he notices the stuffed blue lion. It is adorned with a small crown, eyepatch and a cape that resembles his.

“It’s adorable!” he exclaims as he puts his hands on your cheeks and plants a sudden kiss on your lips.

“Come again?” you gasp, your eyes wide.

Dimitri stops and blushes in his sleepy stupor as you pull on his collar and place a brief sweet kiss to his lips. Dimitri’s cheeks are a bright red as you step back and bow.

“Good night, my sweet.” You tell him before leaving the room.

“The tea was lovely, thank you Dedue.” You announce as you leave the king’s quarters, walking normally. This is a normal pace? Right? Sure it is. You see yourself out the door. Running into your room you fall on your bed and scream into your pillow. He finally kissed me!

The next morning you stop Felix on his way to bang on the King’s door wishing to drag him out for a morning spar. You require his assistance in accompanying you on a trip to the harvest festival area. He complains the entire trip switching between arguing that he is wasting his time doing this and you must stay closer to him, any madman with a blade could try to attack you. Once your mission is complete you purchase three heavily spiced meat sticks for him to enjoy while you head back to the castle.

Upon your return you are delighted to meet with Jakob and his mother in the infirmary. Jakob chatters the entire time that he is bragging to all his friends that the King had messed up his hair and he is going to grow up to be a knight to protect King Dimitri. Changing his bandages, you are pleased with his healing progress, he can take the bandages off in two weeks as long as he behaves. Before they leave, you had a large basket to his mother, filled with fruits, smoked meats, bread, and cookies.

“Share the cookies with all of your friends and neighbors.” You remind him as you wave goodbye.

The visitors with the king leave after a final meeting, heading back to warmer territory as quickly as possible before the snows cover the land. Certainly, it is not today as the sun is warm and the weather is beautiful. You work on a few projects when there is a familiar knock at the door. Dedue has arrived to fetch you for lunch.

“It is so nice out, I thought Dimitri would want lunch in the gardens today.” You mention.

“His Highness said he prefers to have it in his chambers today.” Dedue answers. He opens the door so that you may enter, then closes it behind you as he remains outside of the room.

Dimitri is immediately on the other side, looking a bit flustered.

He reaches for you, ever so lightly placing his hands on your shoulders, his eye searching yours. “Tell me, I cannot remember if it was real or a dream. Did we k-kiss last night?” His face flushes red.

You nod as pink dusts your own cheeks. “Yes.”

“May I kiss you again?” He asks as he pulls you close. His voice is so deep, with your chest pressed against his, you’re not sure if it is the vibration of his words or the shudder of a thrill racing up your spine.

“Please.” You beg him, your hands sliding up his chest around his shoulders pulling him down to meet your lips. It is a bit awkward, slightly messy, and the best kiss you’ve had since the night before. You hold him tight to your chest as he slowly wraps his arms around you as lightly as possible, resting his cheek on your forehead after the kiss. You sigh happily into his chest.

You try to step back, however he has no intention of letting you go.

“We should eat a bit.” You suggest.

“I am hungry for your lips.” He mumbles into your hair.

“They are not very nutritious.” You tap him on his back.

“You would deny a starving man who has just had a small taste of the most delicious thing he has ever had in his life?” He chuckles.

“You are always negotiating. Would you agree to lunch then perhaps kisses for dessert?” You look up at him and grin.

“One now, then lunch.” Dimitri brings his lips to meet yours once again.

After the most hurried lunch you have ever eaten, you find yourself on Dimitri’s lap exchanging kisses.

A knock on the door alerts the both of you to Dedue’s presence. “Your highness, you have a meeting to attend.” He announces.

Dimitri sighs heavily, “The duties of a King are never done.” He bemoans.

You giggle as you clamber from his comfy lap. “Let me get a comb to make you more presentable.” You offer. After combing his hair and straightening his clothes, you send him off to be bored for the remainder of the afternoon.

Things are busy rebuilding the kingdom. There is always another emergency, an urgent need or any excuse for a meeting. He has been in meetings from early dawn, only returning now very late in the evening. He eats little, his head is pounding from the stress of the day. He hesitates to call you, however he has another meeting filled day tomorrow and must try to get some rest.

You ask Dedue to please prepare tea for the three of you this evening. Directing Dimitri to sit on the couch, you stand behind it and apply gentle faith magic to relieve some of the pain in his head and jaw from being so tense. You then place the footrest at the far end of the couch, coaxing him to lie back and place his head in your lap.

You ask for his right hand and massage the point just above the thumb where the index finger would be carried down. Applying pressure first, then rubbing circles with your thumb in each direction. Placing his hand on his chest you do the same with his left hand.

Next you squeeze the spot on each side where the bridge of his nose meets the bridge of his eyebrows. Applying steady pressure there, then releasing and repeating. Finally reaching around to the base of his skull in the parallel hollow areas between the two vertical neck muscles, you press upward to the top of his head briefly release and repeat.

Removing the hair tie from his hair you run your fingers through it, gently scratching his scalp. You watch his face visibly relax and a soft smile is on his lips as you continue to card through his hair.

“Better, sweetheart?” You softly coo.

“Mmmm, yes. Thank you.” He relaxes.

Dedue brings in the tea service, placing the cups and saucers for three at the table.

You tap Dimitri on the nose. “Diiiimmaaaa. Tea time!”

He sighs then sits up. “Whatever you did was amazing. My headache is gone and I think I should be able to sleep some tonight. Thank you.”

Dedue pours tea for everyone.

“Thank you again Dedue, for a wonderful tea.” Dimitri smiles.

“You’re welcome, your Highness.” Dedue answers.

You take a cookie, taking a bite. “Oh, did you make these Dedue?”

“Yes, I had the time this afternoon.” Dedue nods.

“They are delicious. Hmm, anise, cinnamon, nutmeg, pecans, ginger, clove, molasses. An amazing group of flavors mixed in with love. Thank you so much, Dedue.” Your appreciation shows in your smile and warmth toward the man.

Teatime is very much enjoyed. Dimitri looks like he is relaxed enough to go to sleep peacefully and without a headache. Dedue looks away so you can give Dimitri a sweet good night kiss.

Sunday is the lightest day of work for Dimitri. No meetings if there are no visitors in the castle. The weather is beginning to cool a little more every night. It won’t be long before snow covers everything. Dimitri wishes to take a long horseback ride and invites you to join him. You’ve never really learned the skills of being on a horse, Dimitri is more than excited to educate you. Lifting you up straight into the saddle, he climbs up behind you. Accompanied by a few knights on horseback everyone rides out past the city and into the countryside. His destination is a small area of woods that has a cliff overlooking some of the lands of Fhirdiad. Dimitri discussed the location with Dedue, this spot would provide some privacy, enemies could only approach from one side and the guards could stay far enough away, yet still protect their King.

Dimitri dismounts, lifting you from the saddle. He then unties a picnic basket from the back of the horse and tethers the steed to a tree. Spreading out the blanket you unload the basket to find a delicious lunch, complete with sweet tea.

“This is beautiful, sweetheart.” You smile at him as you place food on your plate. “A gorgeous view and beautiful scenery too.”

Dimitri blushes once he realizes the compliment. His mind then heads straight to places it should not go at such a lovely scene. “I am a beast. I have done horrible things. How can you trust yourself to be alone with me?”

Placing your food on your plate you reach out to cup his cheek. “I have seen you at your worst. I have seen you at your best. You are not a beast. You have come so far making amends for what was done and you will continue to improve. I will be here for you as long as you wish, to help you become the best you can be.”

“Why? Why would anyone want to help me? Some days I feel so useless, that I can’t be the King everyone expects me to be.” He is trembling under your touch.

“I help you because I love you. I know you are a great King, Dimitri. We all know.” You smile, using the thumb that is close by you wipe a tear from his eye.

“You…love me?” Dimitri is shocked.

You fold your hands into your lap and look at them. “I must not be doing a very good job of showing you that I do.”

“Wait! Please, take my hands.” Dimitri begs you. You reach out to hold his hands in yours.

You look into his eye, confused.

“I never thought I could be loved. You have always been there since we met, haven’t you? I have been a monster to you, yet you still came to feed me and heal me. When I had asked permission to court you, I thought you would decline. Every day I wake up and think you would reject me this day. I can’t believe you are still here, with me.”

Dimitri bends forward and pulls you close. Placing a sweet kiss on your lips. Your lips are barely touching his as he whispers. “I love you.”

The next few kisses are not as chaste as the previous one. Plates and food are scattered about the blanket as you hold each other close.

Dimitri’s stomach growls loudly, causing you both to laugh.

“I think we should finish our picnic before you begin digesting your internal organs.” You laugh.

“Can that happen?” Dimitri innocently asks with a look of surprise.

“No. Just joking!” You laugh.

“You are a cleric and an expert on those things. I suppose my sense of humor needs a bit of work.” He smiles sheepishly as he helps you straighten out the food. Finishing the picnic lunch, he packs the basket onto his mount.

“Wait. I need to get on this thing without your help.” You announce.

Placing your foot on the stirrup you attempt to hike yourself up onto the horse. Mentally you remind yourself you need to do a lot more squats. The third hopping jump you manage to jump/haul yourself up and stand with your left foot in the stirrup, you haul your right leg carefully over the horse and sit crookedly on the saddle, gently moving and wiggling yourself to center while trying not to upset the steed. Dimitri’s long legs are great for having the stirrup low, but then you had to overcome the length of your legs versus his. Maybe if you had a horse of your own it could be shorter. Maybe a pony? You suddenly notice a snickering man next to you.

“What?” You snap at Dimitri.

“Nothing.” He smiles at you, easily getting up and into the saddle as if he flew on wings.

You turn around to look at him again, he still has that silly grin on his face. “You look like the cat that ate the canary.” You frown.

“It is just that when you have your mind set on something, you can be very stubborn.” Dimitri whispers in your ear. “It is very endearing, my beloved.”

Those two words at the end send a shiver down your spine, followed by a second when he kisses the top of your ear peeking through your hair.

Winter in Fhirdiad is cold, nobody can deny that. Early winter the snow falls, then melts and this repeats as the weather has not quite made up its mind. By the end of Red Wolf Moon, the snow is here to stay for a while. Wagon wheels get stuck, so sleighs are used to cart things around in the northern parts of the kingdom until the snow is too high to move anything.

Although it is cold outside, with enough warm blankets, perhaps a warming box under the seat filled with live coals to keep your feet, legs, and posterior warm, you agree to go on a sleigh ride with Dimitri. Wearing your fluffiest warmest winter hat and coat, you are surrounded by blankets and your boyfriend as Dedue drives the horse drawn sleigh through the city and countryside. Dimitri entertains you with stories of snowball fights and building forts and snow houses with his friends.

Dedue even joins in, sharing his experiences growing up. With the water surrounding Duscur, the snow would be so deep that they had doors on the roof of the house so people could get outside and carry on business or shop or just leave the house to play. Winter is also a time for handcrafts, baking, soups and savory stews. Before the end of the ride, he promises to make a Roasted Root Stew for dinner in the next day or two.

The sun sets quickly in winter, the moonlight giving a bluish tint to the snow as it sparkles all around. The trees look like they have their own coats of white covering every branch. A rabbit scampers across your path, its fur turned snow white to help with camouflage. The most amazing thing about snow is the quiet. Not many birds stay around in the winter. Once it is night everyone goes inside as the little bit of warmth from the sun is gone. The only sound is the horse tromping through the snow and the swwishhhh sound of the sleds sliding across the snow. The quiet is peaceful, beautiful and filled with the air of calm.

The snow piles higher and higher around the castle. Time marches along as the citizens and lands rest, healing from the war. The King is healing as well. His nightmares are not nearly as frequent, he does not seem on edge and full of angst by the end of the day.

Dimitri’s birthday is tomorrow and a small celebration is planned. Several of the other Blue Lions will be attending, easily able to traverse the snow. Dedue is pouring chamomile tea as you review what has happened today.

“I was called to the kitchens again this morning,” You dribble some honey into your tea. “The cook’s new apprentice burnt her fingers again. That is the third time this week.” You frown.

“Perhaps you can provide her some training?” Dedue offers.

“I would like to sew gloves permanently on her hands!” You chuckle. “Perhaps we can set up something to develop her awareness.”

“The meetings were light today. Not too many complaints when people have difficulty making it through the snow.” Dimitri muses.

“Tomorrow is the big day, not everyone will have problems getting here tomorrow, I hope.” You smile taking a sip.

“Felix and Sylvain will have no trouble whatsoever. Mercedes and Annette will arrive with them.” Dimitri’s eye shines brightly as he goes through the list. “Ingrid will be on Pegasus, so no issues there. Of course, Ashe is a knight here, so the only concern would be Byleth’s arrival in time.”

“Am I spoiling you if I want to be the first to give you a birthday present?” you ask him just before he must go to bed.

“Sometimes, my beloved, I have noticed that you are not the most patient of women.” Dimitri grins. “I will allow this, only for you.”

You happily pull him to his bedroom door and open it so he can see it.

Normally the proud kingly lion sits in the center of his bed, awaiting his return. Tonight, he sits opposite a beautiful female lion. She is adorned with a circlet of flowers around the top of her head and ears, long ribbons down her back and a clerical cape like yours. The lions face each other, touching noses.

“They are adorable.” Dimitri smiles.

You bend down to the bed patting the lioness on the head. “Oh, what is this? I think she has a present for you.” You softly say as you get down on a knee to reach and obtain a box that is sitting between her front paws.

Dimitri comes closer to join you, only for you to stay on one knee and turn to face him with the box in your hands.

“Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, will you marry me and make me the happiest woman ever?” You ask, your eyes welling up with tears.

Dimitri gasps and falls to his knees in front of you. “What? Oh yes! Of course, yes!” He declares as he takes you in your arms and kisses your lips and face urgently. Eventually, the two of you have to break apart to breathe.

“You definitely have an impatient side to you.” He laughs, placing his forehead against yours.

“What? I have the patience of a saint.” You giggle. “Saint Cethleann was very impatient.”

“I suppose you are entitled to this.” Dimitri walks to his desk and opens a drawer. He brings a small box to you. “Just to be certain, will you marry me?”

“Let me think.” You chuckle. “Yes. Without hesitation.” Pulling him close you kiss him again.

The day of Dimitri’s birthday is a joyous event for everyone in the castle. Guests arrive and are settled in their rooms. Felix, Sylvain, Annette and Mercedes make it without incident.

“Come on Boar, spar with me. We have time before dinner.” Felix grunts as he shoves Dimitri in the shoulder

You have a cup of tea and cakes with Annette and Mercedes in your parlor, catching up on the latest gossip. You are relieved that they are wearing gloves, you have not had much experience in the high circles of society. It is cold in the hallways, and they certainly help.

“Teaching at the School of Sorcery full time really keeps me busy.” Annette says as she places her teacup down. “It is fun to see the wide eyed new faces get excited about casting their first spells.

“Annie, that is so sweet.” Mercedes laughs softly. “Things are going very well at the new orphanage we started in Fraldarius. We have a huge building and a room for each individual child. We really appreciate the help from Dimitri and Felix. The children are going to write thank you letters soon. I hope you get to see them.”

“That is wonderful to hear. I am sure Dimitri will be well pleased with the news.” You thank them. “Getting the country back on its feet and prospering is his main goal, of course. I hope to see some of these places myself when it warms up in the spring.”

“That would be awesome if you can come visit!” Annette gasps excitedly. “We could have the students show off their talents. Many are working hard to take existing spells and making them useful in every day life.”

“Can someone look into a spell to cast on ordinary items that resist breaking?” You giggle. “I know someone that would appreciate that spell for sure.”

The table erupts in laughter. Girl talk continues as Ingrid joins you. Byleth’s arrival is announced, and everyone heads to one of the comfortable dining rooms that is prepared for the lavish feast the cooks have prepared.

Dinner consumed, the reunited Blue Lions retire to the King’s wing of the castle in a parlor fitted with plenty of furniture to accommodate everyone comfortably. Chairs, lounges and couches are scattered about the room as well as bowls of fruit, trays of cheese and sausage for snacks. A well-stocked cupboard carries glasses, wines, ciders and hard alcohol.

Sylvain makes himself right at home pulling out a large bottle of brandy and filling a few glasses. Annette picks out a fruity wine made with blackberries and between the two everyone has a glass.

“May I propose a toast?” Byleth spoke up and everyone shushed. “Happy Birthday to Dimitri, King of United Faerghus. May he have many happy and peaceful birthdays to come.”

Sylvain let out a whoop, most others give a respectable cheers! Everyone settles into little groups chatting amongst themselves. You lean on the arm of a comfy sofa, talking with Byleth about what is going on in the monastery.

“The rebuilding and repairing is going well.” Byleth shares. “The classrooms are functional, and all of the dormitories are repaired. We are rewriting the curriculum to teach mathematics, reading, writing and other necessary classes for the public. We want it to be a school for the children to learn, leading into better careers than just becoming knights or fighters.”

“That is wonderful to hear!” You excitedly clap your hands together. “A well educated people is a boon for everyone.”

Dedue is on the left side of the room with Ashe and Mercedes discussing recipes. Ingrid, Felix, Dimitri and Sylvain are discussing some recent merchants that arrived in Fhirdiad offering impressive and finely made weapons from Dagda and Brigid, the styles of weapons being the main topic of conversation.

Mercedes sits next to you for a while, speaking with you and Byleth about a recent idea you are testing. Setting up healing clinics in the city in several areas to assist in keeping the people healthy. Byleth approves of the idea and may test some clinics in areas around Garreg Mach.

Sylvain has been keeping everyone’s glasses full. He notices that he really hasn’t had to fill your glass much, however the glass of water next to your wineglass is nearly empty. Leaning over the back of the couch he starts massaging your shoulders.

“Hey.” Sylvain bends over and speaks softly close to your ear. “If you don’t like the wine we have other drinks. Loosen up and have a good time, beautiful. Get relaxed. “He grins at you and then winks.

Before you can turn your head to tell him no, Dimitri marches over and sits next to you on the couch removing Sylvain’s hands.

“Refrain from manhandling my fiancée.” Dimitri growls at him. He then gently places his hand on top of yours that is sitting on the couch cushion between the both of you.

You blush at him as several gasps utter in the room.

“Fian- you’re getting married Dimitri? Congratulations!” Sylvain nearly shouts, slapping him on the shoulder. “Didn’t know you had it in you! When did this happen? Tell us all about it!” He runs around to the front of the couch to take a seat in the chair directly opposite Dimitri so he can watch his friend’s every move.

“I-well. It just happened. We aren’t quite ready to announce it, but then Sylvain…” Dimitri hangs his head down, shaking it while blushing profusely.

You decide to swoop in to save him. “You see Sylvain, when two people like each other and get to know each other well, spending time together, sometimes something special happens. We have been courting for quite a while you know.”

“I know, yeah. But he’s Dimitri! He has no idea how to flirt or capture ladies’ hearts. Has he even kissed you?” Sylvain looks quite shocked.

Dimitri’s face is red all the way to his neck. You take his hand in yours and squeeze it tightly.

“We have kissed. He kissed me first and everything else is our business. Change the subject.” You give him your evil eye look.

“Wow.” Sylvain laughs. “Wah-hah-how.” He stands up and walks to the alcohol cabinet. Felix gives him a punch in the shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up, idiot.” Felix mumbles.

“Felix, do me a favor.” You smile slyly. “Take Sylvain to the training grounds with you early tomorrow morning and give him a good workout. I’ll even tell them to lock you two in there so he can’t escape.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Felix gives a courteous bow and Sylvain a side eye.

“Speaking of sparring,” Byleth says loudly. “I have a few new swords I’ve brought if you want to have a look at them Dimitri. Fantastic workmanship. I hear this weapon maker has some amazing materials that are being shipped in from Dagda.”

You get up to move about the room, talking with Ingrid about improving farming techniques in their territory.

“We always thought Galatea had poor soil because certain fruits and vegetables would not grow well there.” Ingrid sips her wine. “We kept fighting with the land, trying to make it grow what we wanted. Finally, we’re growing what the land wants, what grows in our type of soil in the first place. This is the third year for cranberries and the bushes are loaded. Rethinking our ways has improved things a hundred fold.”

“I love cranberries.” Annette croons. “They make a really tart sauce that is great with bird meat.”

“I like the juice for breakfast, it certainly is an eye opener!” You add.

The conversation quietly moves to anything and everything except for the engagement. Annette heads over to speak with Felix, Ingrid heads to Ashe to discuss something.

Sylvain stands close, but not too close to you. His grin is full of mischief. You dread what is going to come out of his mouth.

“So, when you planning on having kids?” Sylvain not so innocently inquires. “The council has been dogging him about heirs since the day after his coronation.”

“One more word from you and I will have Felix take you to the training grounds now, followed by Byleth, Dedue, Ingrid, Ashe and myself. Am I making myself perfectly clear?” You give a smile through gritted teeth that makes him cringe down to his toes.

“Yes Ma’am.” Sylvain whines as he backs up and heads to the farthest side of the room, only to find Dimitri there, so he splits the difference and heads to a corner furthest away from the both of you.

Sylvain stays in his corner. Ashe approaches him, asking a question. As he opens his mouth you stare at him. Sylvain dutifully closes his mouth and only answers by nodding yes or no. His voice is not heard throughout the rest of the evening. It is a fine party indeed for Dimitri’s birthday.

#fe3h #fe3h fanfiction #fire emblem three houses #fe3h x reader #dimitri alexander blaiddyd #blue lions #fe16

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demonologistfucker · 3 years

Text

MC wants to meet some Creatures - Obey Me! Brother’s - Fluff

Gn!mc asks one of the brothers to take them to find a magical creature. This is for the main brothers, but if people want one for the newly datables just ask! I would love to do more <3

Lucifer

Is Cerberus not enough? We can go down and pet him if you like

It’s going to take some convincing to get this trip to happen. Needlessly risking the human's life just to see something neat? I think not

But your eyes were so big when you asked… fine. He’ll find something worthwhile that isn’t going to get you killed

Prep for the trip is Lucifer covering you in about 50 different protection spells.

Then you’ll be flying. Hold on tightly and try not to look directly into the wind. That’s not good for your human eyes. Lucifer’s arms are firm around you as his wings stretch out. With a push you’re off. Being lifted from the ground purely from the strength of his wings? It’s an undescribable feeling.

Soon you are out of the Devildom and flying above the Hell Wilds. A vast landscape of all sorts of terrors. From red grasses that could cut through bone, or the vast tar fields that bubble toxic gas. There is a beauty to it. Especially if you are safe above it all.

A large canyon comes into sight. “This canyon was cut by Lotan’s first rampage, and where Levi made Lotan his pet.” Lucifer begins to descend. Swooping down in a tight spiral to slip into the canyon.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then you can see something glowing. Many somethings glowing. They crawl over the canyon sides. They are nothing like you’ve seen before, but if you were to pin down to something earth like… they are most similar to sea slugs? But they have legs and bright, piercing eyes. With beautiful fins running down their back. Each looks to be a droplet of a rainbow.

“Gems left in the earth can collect enough magic to come to life.” They have no name, but they could fit in the palm of your hand. Tho please don’t touch they are highly condensed magical creatures and could shred your human body without meaning too.

Mammon

“Can I trust you?” He looks at you with surprising serious. Though he’s scratching his chin which makes it a little hard to take him seriously. When you say Of Course, Mammon quickly cracks into a grin. “Alright, give me a day, but-” He just starts nodding and runs off. Delighted with his own idea too much to tell you more

The Next day you meet Mammon outside the house of lamentation. He is already in his demon form and has a large sack in his hands. Which appears to be full of weird trinkets and a whole lot of grimm.

Where are you going? The Hell Wilds. Which is… so unhelpful because the Hell wilds are nearly infinite.

Mammon scoops you up bridle style, and then you’re off into the air. Mammon cannot stop smiling, “I haven’t taken anyone here before.” He mainly says this too himself. But looks at you with so much delighted you can’t help but blush.

This would be a much longer flight if Mammon wasn’t so good at using the air currents to his advantage. Diving to catch the updraft that send you both rocketing through the air. You’re at not risk of danger. Mammon wouldn’t let that happen to you, but it does feel like a roller coaster. When you level out, you’re facing a dark mountain. It cuts into the air with jagged certainty. Mammon lands halfway up its sides.

“She doesn’t like it when I fly into the nest. So we’ll have to walk to the rest.” If you ask any questions about what is happening. His response is a grin. “You know how Crows and I get along? Well… this is where that started.”

The mountain is only partial rock. The rest is ash, twigs and mud stuck together to keep the mountain from falling apart. Crows and ravens sit perched along the cliff sides. Some crows come flying to the mountain with fresh mud to repair parts of the mountain. The dark birds watch you and Mammon with intense, unrelenting eyes. Mammon smiles to them, and carries on with ease.

The path winds up to a crack in the side of the mountain. Mammon gestures for you to wait outside while he walks in first. You can hear something massive stir. The rustle of feathers and the scratch of claws against stone. Then Mammon pokes his head out and beckons you in.

Curled within the mountain is a great beast. It’s hard to tell one part from another because she is massive, and her dark feathers blend into each other. Her head is stuffed into the bag Mammon brought. When she sits up, she has a golden cup in her maw. The Crow Drake is stunning and terrifying. Her eyes are molten red, and her teeth cut through the gold.

The Crow Drake is the matriarch from all the crows and ravens in Hell. When Mammon was young, he fled to this mountain and was given a drake’s comforts. As well as his first crow familiar.

She reaches up to get a good look at you. Her beak pressing against you. Nudging you around and bringing her eyes right up to yours. Then she sits back and let's out a satisfied sqwaks. Mammon is about to say something when the Crow Drake leans over and picks him up by the collar of his jacket. Mammon is plopped onto her soft back, and she begins preening his hair. Making little noises every once in a while. “I know I used too much conditioner, stop harassing me” Mammon is blushing fiercely.

Levi

“Gah! Why can’t Lotan be more gentle.” Levi really wants you to meet Lotan, but it’s highly likely that Lotan would try to kill you the moment you met. All the photos of Lotan have been just… blue scales, or a big eyeball.

But Lotan is one of many Sea serpents. Actually, there are all sorts of magical creatures in the sea, and Levi is going to tell you about All of them. While he tries to figure out how to make sure you can breathe underwater.

“I am not allowed near the merfolk palace though, so... Can’t take you there.” If pushed on the matter, he will turn red and stammer about how Lotan just wanted a snack.

He found a spell! He’ll need Solomon’s help, but it should give you 24 hours of breathing underwater. Now it’s time to go into his tank.

Did you assume that he just had a normal wall sized fish tank? Of course not. The back wall has been turned into a convenient portal to The Ocean. It’s not an earth ocean, and hell doesn’t actually have a lot of clean water. This Ocean is an in between realm that connects to the abstract of earth’s waters, and all the magic that one could possibly find in those depths.

At first Levi gets distracted showing you all the fish. Look at the coral! And the trigger Fish! Oh, what a pretty anemone. He’s so caught up in showing you around that he’s not even embarrassed to be holding your hand the whole time.

Levi is such a strong swimmer he barely even notices dragging you along with him. His tail easily propels you both forward, and with great agility he can swim through the coral reefs. Then you hit the edge. Suddenly there is a vast nothing below you. Light fades below.

Down you go! It would be more unsettling if you didn’t have leviathan right besides you. Who is practically vibrating with his excitement. Underwater Levi looks so much more comfortable. Moving with such ease and without any hesitation.

You can feel the water begin to shift as something Massive approaches. Levi pauses and let's out a trill. Which is met by a deep noise that rattles your bones.

Red is a hard color to see in the deep ocean. Not enough light in that wave length can reach that far down. So at first it’s just a dark dot in the distances. Then it’s brilliant red head comes surging towards you. The water rushes around as the sea serpent begins to swim in a spiral around you and Leviathan. Leviathan is beaming and spinning around to keep up with the Serpent’s face. Letting out happy trills sporadically.

Eventually the Sea Serpent settles down and lets its body relax out. The Serpent stretches out so far that it’s back fines look so small. Yet their face is larger than a bus. The Serpent looks at you for a long while, and then it flicks it head upward. Which makes Leviathan blush a vibrant red.

She approves

Satan

Satan needs two weeks to prepare! But he has an idea. How do you feel about sewers?

“The Devildom aqueducts are actually one of the cleanest places in hell. It’s really an astounding work of engineering-” he goes on for a while about all the intricate workings. Seems there is a lot of plant filtering the waters, as well as creatures that can digest what the plants can’t process.

Satan gives you one of his books of magic. “I am their friend, but if you want them to accept your presence, it’s best to provide a gift. To show you mean well.” Unlike the others, Satan will give you a heads-up on whom you’re about to meet. Though, he gives the explanation as you’re walking towards the sewer’s entrance.

“Their name is Elos, and they are one of the oldest chimera’s alive. They were created in less than stellar circumstances, but handled it rather well.” By eating their creator. “Now they used the leftover alchemical equipment to do their own studying, as well as keep the aqueduct ecosystem in balance.”

The entrance looks like any other sewer grate in a city. Satan can easily move the heavy cover off, and watches as you begin to climb down the ladder. Satan closes the cover as he starts his descent. The sewers are Massive. The tunnel is about 20 feet wide and 20 tall. A perfect circle, except for the walk ways going along the side. A sort of seaweed is growing at the bottom of the waterways. Little fish duck in and out of the waving reeds. Further in more plants grow along the side. Some areas have full banks that cover the waterways. You can also see long claw marks running along the sides of the tunnel. As well as the residue of a recent magical explosion. “Hmm, looks like Elos got annoying company.” Satan smirks at the blast marks.

One of the original designers of the sewers was the grand wizard who made Elos. So there is a laboratory at the dead center of the sewer system. If one were to look at the blueprints, you’d be able to see a magic circle drawn by the tunnels. Well almost one. Those plans were later worked over to fix the functionality of the sewer system for the devildom. Elos didn’t want to do any city wide magic, so they aren’t really upset about it.

Outside of Elos’s laboratory is a large blue door. Painted on it are bright yellow runes that start to shimmer green as Satan approaches. Satan knocks, and it’s a full three minutes before the sound of the door unlocking. With effort, it swings inwards, and the smell of chemicals and herbs assaults your nostrils.

Satan goes about the polite introduction. Leading you into the laboratory, but it’s hard to pay attention. There are so many strange machines littered across the room, and Elos themself is a feat to understand. Their face is divided into three parts, one of a bull, one of a woman, and the other of an ape. They have large arms with hands that drag across the floor. Their fingers are thin claws of a bird. Chest comes from some great lizard not from earth. Hide legs appear to be lion like, and its tail is an arched scorpion stinger. Elos looks at you with deep eyes.

When you present the spell book Satan gave you. Elos sneers at you but takes the book. “A gift provided from someone else is weaker… but will do.” her voice is a dry and raspy. Speaking with vocal cords never crafted for such intricate language.

Asmodeous

“Want to meet some of the lovelies that help me torment souls?!”

They’re the creature Asmodeous has easy access to, so I recommend saying yes if you want to go with him

“They’re for a very specific time of person. The sort who think their beauty makes up for all the harm they caused.” A dark look smolders in Asmo’s eyes, but when he looks at you, it softens. Back to his normal bright heart eyes.

Asmo summons a cab to drive you both to the outskirts of the devildom. To… a ranch? Soft green meadows stretch out as far as you can see. Wooden fences mark the edge of the road. When you look close, you can see sigils carved into the posts.

Out in the field you can see them. Powerful horses with glimmering spiraled horns. Some are pure white with long wavy mains, but they are as diverse as any herd of horses.

“My beautiful unicorns,” Asmo leans over the fences to get a better look at them. “You’ll get to have a closer look at those in the stables right now. They won’t be too happy about being locked up, but they’re so wonderful just to look at.”

These unicorns come from more of a… vicious tradition. Their diets are completely carnivorous and with a strong preference for humans.

While you enter the stables, Asmo explains that these stables are more for necessary check-ups, and not where the unicorns stayed. They had their own dens somewhere in the meadows. Asmo hadn’t cared to find it, but it is out there.

So the unicorns that are in are here to have a thorough cleaning by one of the stable works. No you cannot help I’m afraid. These Unicorns would not be able to tell you apart from the souls they are encouraged to feast upon. All the other folk who work at the stable are non-human, and they still get bite. What’s worse is when a Unicorn decided to charge.

To make sure none of that happens, you’ll be safely on the other side of the door. Even though you can’t get close. You still can see the Unicorns very well. They are beautiful creatures. The shortest is still taller than the average horses. With eyes set more forward on their skull, and sharp angular bodies. Their legs are less brittle. With hooves that are divined into three sharp angles.

While most of the unicorns with in the stable seem antsy to leave. They all give their own greeting to Asmo. A dappled gray is the most affectionate. Letting Asmo pet the sides of their face, and rubbing up against Asmo’s head. It looks at you with curiosity. Sniffs the air and whinnies. “I know,” Asmo coos. “They are very tasty looking, but you can’t have any. I want this human to stick around.” The Unicorn snorts and flicks it tail in annoyance.

Beelzebub

His eyes light up when you ask to meet some magical creatures. “We won’t have to go too far… but we should wait till the house is quiet.” Que Mammon sprinting through the hallways trying to out run Lucifer. “They don’t like the ruckus.”

Beel asks you to meet him in the kitchen once everyone else has gone to their rooms. When you enter you find him setting out a tray with a dish of milk, honey, and some crackers. He then hands you a block of cheese. “Cut up some cubes of this.” and so you do. Beel doesn’t take any food from the tray, but he does rummage in the fridge while you get the cheese ready.

Once it’s all ready, Beel sets the tray in the middle of the counter. He then pulls out a little golden bell, and rings it. There is a beat of silence, and then doors you had never seen before open. One door is tucked into the wall trim, another in the backspace, and a third underneath the cabinets. Who comes tumbling out are small fuzzy creatures. They walk on their hind legs, and have large flat faces. Almost like a bat, but their eyes are old and wise. They are dressed in hand stitched clothes made from old table clothes, towels, or other scraps of fabric they could steal without much fuss.

“Who is this?!” One of them points pocket knife at you. “My friend,” Beel says and when he looks at you he can’t help but smile. “Hmm… did your friend cut this cheese?” Beel nods. “Next time make them smaller. Our children will struggle to hold these.”

These are House Brownies. A type of fae that can be found in most loving homes. They are a people of high standards but with over whelming big hearts. Beel is the main reason the house brownies live within the house of lamentation. No one else remembers to set out food for them. So no one else gets the help of the Brownies. Beel however often finds that his chores have been done for him, and snacks are often left on his bed side table. Small snack since the brownies can’t carry too much, but he deeply appreciates it.

Brownies are some of the easiest fae to talk with. The worst you can do is hurt their pride, but they are quick to accept earnest apologies. Not the sort of fae who will steal your name and trick you into dancing yourself to death… well… There have been a couple brownies who have done that. But the people were true assholes.

One of the brownies who is dress in a floral dress comes up to you. They give you a once over, and then start to climb up the back of your shirt. Now on your shoulder, the Brownie sniffs your face and pokes your cheeks. The Brownie’s whiskers tickle, and it’s hard not to react. But their fur is so soft, and they smell like honey and clove.

“You should have brought this one sooner.” The floral Brownie says in a sing-song voice. “They can bring us human snacks, yes?” “I want a candy!” Another brownie cheers. “Are human homes as noisy as demon homes?” “What is a cat? We hear the mean one speak of them, but never have seen them.” “Is cat friend or foe to the brownie?” Another brownie is now climbing you. This one decided to perch on the top of your head. “Human smells nice. Keep them Beel.”

Belphegor

“Okay, but you’re paying for their snacks.”

Which turned out to be nearly ten pounds of red meat. You’re also the one who has to carry the bag as you walk into the properly sketchy parts of the Devildom city. Belphegor looks as nonchalant as normal. Except for when he needs to glare at any other Demon who might start making eyes at you.

Now it’s into the dark alleys you go. Winding past business and into tight brick alley ways. The surrounding buildings seem to tower up through the sky. Blocking the darkness above. There is even a hint of sulfur in the air.

“Alright, set the meat down.” Belphegor stops at the intersection of four alley ways. It makes a small circle in the middle. The ground is dark and stained from years of murk. Moss grows up the walls, and blooms in the cracks. You set the meat down and then back up next to Belphegor. “Are you nervous?” He grins a little and then brings his fingers to his lips and whistles Loud.

You can hear them running. Many heavy feet charging down the paths. They’re coming from every direction, and now hear their panting breath. Growling and snarls as they try to be the first to reach their meal.

If you thought earthly wolves are big. You are blown away by the size of hellhounds. They keep their heads low but still stand at least three feet tall. Their teeth are as black as their fur, and they have barbed tails that whip back and forth in a frenzy. The Hell hounds are at first completely distracted by the food left out for them.

“When they’re not hungry, they’re really sweet.” Belphegor crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. Patiently waiting for the Hell Hounds to calm down. “They’re in the city to hunt down pests. Lucifer see’s them as exterminators,” One of the Hell Hounds now trots over to Belphegor. It rams its head into his stomach, demanding attention. Belphie laughs a little and starts to scratch its ears. Now content that it’s getting love. The Hell Hound eyes you. First a sniff, and then it tries to bite your clothes. “Hey,” Belphie says in a stern voice, and that’s all the Hound needed. You’re not food? Well then you must be friend too.

The message is spread through the rest of the pack, and soon you are surrounded. The Hell Hounds breath is rancid, and they will not stop trying to give you kisses.

Two of the hounds manage to get Belphie on the ground, and sit on top of him. Belphie’s face is flushed, and he only tries to get them off half-heartedly. Then accepts their cuddles and closes his eyes. “They’re not allowed in the house. So I come here a lot… you can join me next time if you want.”

A/N: Thank you @squidubus for the great idea of Mama Crow Drake preening Mammon’s hair. I luuuv uuuu

#I had... so much fun with this #mammon's mom is a Crow Drake #Obey me!#Obey me! headcanon #Obey me! Lucifer #Obey me! Mammon #Obey me! Leviathan #Obey me! Satan #Obey me! Asmodeous #Obey me! Beelzebub #Obey me! Belphegor #my writing #creatures #fantasy #I just love magical creatures okAY?!#also you with MC powers Can befriend the man eating unicrons if you really want but you gotta Earn it

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cloudytamaki · 3 years

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traffic lights • i.hajime

⤷ genre: angst / fluff - hurt / comfort

⤷ warnings: mentions of death, car accidents, arguments

⤷ summary: it’s never good to leave the apartment on a rainy night with hurt feelings.

“you can’t be fucking serious, hajime! this isn’t fair at all, did you ever take my feelings into consideration?”

“i can’t believe you, y/n! you’re making this so goddamn bigger than it needs to be! i’m just needed a few hours later at work, do i need your permission to earn money?”

outside, the rain pours down, loud against the roof. streams of water slide down the windows and create puddles beside the house.

inside, you stand in front of your partner, throat sore from all the yelling you’ve been doing. tears of frustration glisten in your eyes as you snap another venomous remark at him.

“you know what, hajime? think about the house when you get home. there’s food on the table, everything is clean and tidy! who do you think does all that work after they come home from work? me! it’s getting to be too much, damn it! you live here too, you need to start helping me out more.”

“help you out more?” he scoffs in disbelief, “does paying the bills every month help you out enough? all the work i do is the only reason you even have a house to clean up in the afternoon!”

“okay.” you back away from him, keeping your voice calm (although you’re absolutely fuming). “i’m leaving.” you snatch a nearby jacket — not caring who it belongs to — and grab the keys from the hooks.

“if you leave now, you’d better not come back.” he barks out, each word stabbing you in the chest.

“i don’t plan on it.” you snap back, slamming the door behind you. soon, he hears the rumble of the truck’s engine, and then the screech of the tires as you speed away from your apartment.

you mutter every swear word possible, so pissed off you could barely think. once you’re far away enough from home (could you even call it that right now?), you twist the steering wheel so sharply to the right you can hear the tires slide dangerously against the wet pavement.

you’re hunching over the wheel, eyes narrowed as the windshield wipers desperately try to sweep away the rain. it’s getting hard to see through the now foggy glass — you keep going anyway.

slowly pulling out of the street and deciding to head over to the gas station for some snacks, you press on the gas and drive to the left. however, a car is driving out of the street you’re passing — you’re about to be hit.

slamming your palm down on the horn, you twist the steering wheel cruelly to avoid any impact; the truck hurtles down the street, left side of the truck bed smashing into the street post as one of the tires slips up onto the curb — and the car flies up into the air — for a second you think you see jesus.

but the second you process what’s happening and how your legs could be fatally crushed, the car slams down onto its right. pieces of crystal windshield glass drop down into the passenger seat beside you. all you can feel and remember is the way the truck flipped up into the air.

“oh my god!” you hear a male voice from your left and a head peaks through the shattered window, “call 911!”

back at the apartment, hajime’s still fuming — but now, most of his anger is towards himself. how could he allow his temper to get the best of him? why would he say such shitty things to you when all you wanted was some help at home?

he buries his head in his hands, combing his fingers through his spikes when his phone vibrates against his leg, a cheesy ringtone filling the silence — the ringtone you picked for him.

“hello?”

“hi, is this iwaizumi hajime?” he furrows his brows at the voice. it sounds like another guy.

“yes.” he answers gruffly, eyebrows furrowing deeply. questions run through his head before he speaks up again. “may i ask who’s calling?”

“i’m a paramedic.” he freezes at the words. “i’m calling to inform you that — is it—” the voice stops to think for a second, “l/n y/n? she’s been in a car crash, sir. she told us to call you—”

“shit.” he mutters under his breath, blood running cold as his right hand comes up to angrily tug at his hair, “where is it? where are you?”

“would you like to speak to l/n y/n?”

“yes,” he says tightly, heart pounding in his chest.

“hajime?” he’s so relieved to hear your voice, but he can sense the way you’re almost wincing. “the truck’s fucking totaled, i’m sorry.”

“where the hell are you?” iwaizumi isn’t angry, but panicked.

“uh...” you pause for a second, “carlson boulevard, near the food store.”

“i – i’m on my way.”

you hang up on the other end and the line’s immediately dead. iwaizumi jumps up, throwing open the closet and grabbing a jacket. he dashes into the garage, almost saying a fucking prayer; thank god he got the car checked and fixed up yesterday.

he opens the garage door and gets into the smaller blue car, squeezing the wheel and taking a deep breath before closing the door and taking off down the street.

when he gets to the scene, hajime’s eyes widen in disbelief. the truck’s on its side, windshield glass everywhere, bystanders peeking out through their curtains, police officers talking to you while you hold an ice pack to your head.

he parks the car and jumps out. the street sign is in someone’s front lawn and different coins are sparkling on the pavement. the pennies and quarters he’d saved for drive through’s, the little flower crown you’d hung on the rear view mirror ripped up — destroyed.

his lips part in a silent gasp. “sir?” an officer calls him over; he can hardly look at you. you’re all wet from the rain, clothes absolutely soaked.

words are exchanged back and forth but he barely processes them; you’ll be fine, the officer says, you’ll just need some rest. as for the truck, it’s totaled beyond repair. you’ll have to buy a new one or just get around with the tiny blue car.

the officer says goodbye to the both of you and walks away to assist with the cleanup of the wreck. he walks in silence beside you to the blue car, but before the both of you can get into the car, he emits a strangled sob; your head twists up in surprise.

it’s fucking raining and— shit. is he crying?

he aggressively wipes at his face, but the tears keep coming. you step over to him, removing his arms away from his reddened cheeks. “y-y/n—” he can’t get out your name without even breaking down.

“it’s my fault. i made you get into that accident... i – i’m so sorry—” he stiffens at first when you embrace him, but relaxes a little bit once you rub your hand over his back.

“hajime. it – it’s not your fault, please don’t think that, okay?” you lift his chin so his head can face yours. he looks so vulnerable, clearly suffering from the guilt and self deprecation. “okay?” you repeat, your eyes piercing his.

he nods wordlessly, hugging you tighter before he eventually pulls away, opening the door to the car. “i love you.”

you press a kiss to his trembling lips, ignoring the throbbing in your head.

“i love you too.”

#hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x female reader #haikyuu fanfiction

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pwilzfan73 · 3 years

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True story behind The Conjuring 3 – inside Arne Cheyenne Johnson’s “the devil made me do it” court case

The latest instalment in The Conjuring franchise once again has its roots in a real-life case.

By Patrick Cremona, Radio Times. UK.

Published: Friday, 21st May 2021 at 2:56 pm

The Conjuring 3 takes its title from a real-life court case that dates back to the 1980s. The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It takes a look at the case and the Warrens’ involvement in the case that originated the phrase “the devil made me do it”.

Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga return as paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren for the next instalment in The Conjuring horror franchise, with the new movie heading to UK cinemas on 28th May 2021.

As with the previous movies in the franchise, The Conjuring 3 is taken from a real case file with reported connections to the supernatural. Previously we’ve seen spin-off movies focused on the Annabelle doll, also inspired by the Warrens who keep it in their occult museum.

Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson as Lorraine and Ed Warren. Warner Bros Pictures.

The case in question this time around is the trial of Arne Cheyenne Johnson, a man who was convicted of manslaughter in Connecticut in 1981 – becoming the first person to have claimed a defence of demonic possession during a murder trial.

The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It true story

The Conjuring 3 is inspired by the trial of 19-year-old Arne Cheyenne Johnson, who was charged with murdering his landlord Alan Bono in February 1981. During the trial, the defendant gained infamy for becoming the first person to claim a defence of demonic possession in a United States court – although perhaps unsurprisingly this version of events was not accepted by the judge.

His defence rested on testimony given by the family of his fiancée, Debbie Glatzel. Debbie’s 11-year-old brother had reportedly been the subject of demonic possession in the months prior to the murder, with his parents having grown increasingly worried by a number of unexplained and ominous events.

The story really starts in July 1980, when the 11-year-old David Glatzel was helping Johnson clean up a Connecticut rental property he was prepping to move so he could move in.

While there David claimed to have come across a “burnt and black-looking” old man who he claims pushed him into a waterbed saying he would bring them harm if they moved into the house.

When David returned home he continued to see the old man. He described him as having a white beard, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. David claimed the man’s skin was charred as if he’d been burnt too. The young boy experienced night terrors and woke up with bruises and scratches on his body. He’d wake screaming and tell his parents he’d seen the sunken features of the old man “like an animal”, with horns, pointy hears and jagged teeth (via People). (The Conjuring 3 demon appears to have gone a different route, with early photos showing a white masked man wearing a striped red long coat.)

The family said they also had heard unexplained noises coming from their attic.

In trying to get to the bottom of the issue they had called in Ed and Lorraine Warren – who by this point were already well-known paranormal experts – to diagnose and cure their son.

Ed Warren said he heard banging and growling sounds coming from their basement, and that he also say a rocking chair move on its own. Speaking to paranormal researcher Tony Spera, Ed claimed David’s toy dinosaur also walked on its own towards the family. He also said a deep voice spoke to them saying: “Beware, you’re all going to die.”

Lorraine also claimed she saw a black mist appear next to David while her husband interviewed him. “While Ed interviewed the boy, I saw a black, misty form next to him, which told me we were dealing with something of a negative nature. Soon the child was complaining that invisible hands were choking him—and there were red marks on him. He said that he had the feeling of being hit,” she told People magazine.

David’s mother Judy had previously claimed it was a ghost, but the Warrens rejected this idea saying it was an indicator of a demon.

Lorraine also claimed she saw David being choked by invisible hands and he told her “he had the feeling he was being hit”. She told People that she could see red marks afterwards and she heard him growl and hiss. Lorraine also claimed he spoke in unrecognisable voices, that he recited passages of the Bible as well as Paradise Lost. Debbie Glatzel also claimed he spit, bit, kicked and swore at her and he flopped around “head to toe like a ragdoll”.

She also told the Chippewa Herald Telegram that “he manifested. Just a face on the wall. High cheekbones. A narrow chin. A thin nose. Big black eyes hidden in dark holes. He showed his teeth.”

Ed Warren also told The Washington Post: “Right away, I knew there was something to this. I felt like a good fisherman when he knows there’s something on the line.” He added that he thought there were 43 demons inside the boy, and David named them all.

David Glatzel’s exorcism

In the movie, Father Gordon (Steve Coulter) blesses the home. The priest’s name was changed for the movie, but a Roman Catholic priest did visit the home to bless it.

After continued efforts from the Warrens, the Glatzels, and multiple priests (including Rev Francis E.Virgulak) a formal exorcism took place, with witnesses claiming that a demon fled the child’s body.

Ed Warren claimed Arne, who was present at the exorcism, shouted: “Take me on, leave my little buddy alone!”

Apparently, David showed signs of improving, but Arne started to deteriorate. TV series A Haunting covered the case in the episode Where Demons Dwell, claiming that the demon took control of Johnson’s car forcing it into a tree. While he was uninjured, he was shaken by the experience. The series also blamed a demon when Johnson fell from a tree while working.

Judy told The Washington Post she paid $75 an hour for a session with a local psychiatrist too, but it was up to church officials to set up and pay for further psychological testing (via Newsweek). David’s parents were told he was “normal” but had a “minimal learning disability”.

Alan Bono’s murder

Clearly not content with its newfound freedom, though, the story goes that the spirit then immediately took control of Johnson and it was under his control that the murder of the landlord took place several months later.

Johnson and Debbie Glatzel decided against renting the original home, and instead rented a small house near Debbie’s work. Debbie was working a dog groomer for the landlord, Alan Bono, 40, who was also the kennel manager.

Bono, who has been renamed in the movie as Bruno Sauls, lived in an apartment above the kennels.

On the day of the murder, Johnson had taken the day off work and spent the day with Debbie, 26, at the kennel. Along with some other companions, Debbie, Johnson and Bono had lunch at a local restaurant and enjoyed a few drinks, becoming drunk in the process, and when they later returned to the kennel a heated fight broke out with Bono becoming increasingly agitated.

During this argument, Bono seized Debbie’s nine-year-old cousin Mary, who had also been present, and refused to let her go – which then led Johnson to confront him and eventually stab him repeatedly with a five-inch pocket knife, all while growling like an animal. Bono suffered “four or five tremendous wounds” mainly to his chest area.

Bono died several hours later and Johnson was later arrested roughly two miles away from the murder. The murder is believed to be the first murder in Brookfield, Connecticut’s 193-year history, and the first in the 30 years since the town had police records.

The next day, Lorraine Warren immediately claimed that it was a case of demonic possession, which naturally led to much media coverage around the world.

Ed and Lorraine Warren

Ed and Lorraine Warren arrive at Danbury Superior Court - Getty

Arne Johnson’s Trial

Johnson’s trial began on 28th October 1981 at Connecticut’s Superior Court in Danbury.

Johnson’s lawyer Martin Minnella attempted to enter a plea of “not guilty” due to demonic possession stating Johnson “was possessed by a demon, and it was a demon who actually manipulated his body.” It was the first known court case in US history that had attempted this defence.

Minnella, speaking about the case and the fame that followed, said: “The courts have dealt with the existence of God. Now they’re going to have to deal with the existence of the Devil.” (via the New York Times).

However, the plea of not guilty due to demonic possession was immediately thrown out by presiding judge Robert Callahan who said that it would be “irrelative and unscientific” to allow testimony on these grounds, and so despite the ensuing media attention the jury was not legally allowed to consider demonic possession.

Johnson’s defence claimed that he hadn’t been the same after Glatzel’s exorcism, and witnesses were called upon saying they saw a demon transfer from Glatzel to Johnson. Debbie Glatzel also testified that Johnson behaved similarly to Glatzel. Ed Warren claimed Johnson had made a “fatal mistake” by taunting the alleged demon.

Debbie claimed Johnson had come to Bono’s apartment to repair a stereo for him, but that Bono had been drinking red wine and the pair got into an argument about payment for the repair. She also said Johnson was in a trance when he stabbed Bono.

According to reports, in the three months Debbie and Johnson had lived next to Bono they had been friends. The police believed that Bono and Debbie’s relationship was more than boss and employee, but Debbie denied this despite the police claiming the argument was over her rather than the stereo. The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It does take this angle into the story, exploring the ‘jealous lover’ plot, which was also shown in the 1983 movie The Demon Murder Case (starring Kevin Bacon).

L-R Patrick Wilson (Ed Warren), Sarah Catherine Hook (Debbie Glatzel) and Vera Farmiga (Lorraine Warren) in New Line Cinema’s ‘The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It.

After the jury deliberated for more than three days, Johnson was convicted of first-degree manslaughter on 24th November 1981 and was sentenced to between 10 and 20 years in prison. He was released in 1986 having only served five years of his sentence.

Even though demonic possession was not actually allowed as a legitimate defence in the trial, the case became colloquially known as “the Devil made me do it case” – hence the subtitle of this film.

Where are the Glatzels and Johnson now?

Johnson married Debbie Glatzel while he was in prison. He also got his high school diploma while inside. The pair went on to have two children.

Lorraine Warren went on to write the book The Devil in Connecticut with Gerald Brittle detailing the case, and they shared the profits from the sales with the Glatzel family. David’s brother Carl Glatzel did speak out against the book when it was republished in 2006 saying it was a “complete lie” and that “the Warrens concocted a phoney story about demons in an attempt to get rich and famous at our expense.”

Carl claimed the Warrens told the family they’d be millionaires – it was later confirmed they were paid $2,000. Carl also says David was suffering with his mental health at the time, but he recovered. In 2007, David and Carl filed a lawsuit against Brittle and the Warrens for unspecified financial damages. They sued the authors and publishers for violating their privacy, libel and “intentional infliction of emotional distress.”

Brittle claims his book is based on fact and he interviewed the Glatzel family for more than 100 hours, which he has video of. Lorraine Warren also said the six priests who performed exorcisms on Glatzel agreed that he was possessed.

Debbie Glatzel and Arne Johnson have always backed the account of the possession, but David’s father denies his son was possessed.

How the movie tackles such a complicated case and how closely they stick to the real life events remains to be seen.

The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It is released in cinemas on 4th June, 2021 on HBO Max and 28th May in the UK.

#radio times #arne johnson true story #the conjuring the devil made me do it #patrick wilson #patrickwilson #actor #pwilzfan73 #movies #edwarren #verafarmiga #lorrainewarren #vera farmiga #sarah catherine hook #arne johnson

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stuckybarton · 3 years

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Red Velvet Cake

Summary: Behind the sweet smile and angelic personality was a spitfire when someone dared destroy her little bakery in the heart of New York. Steve finds that out the hard way when his girlfriend's bakery becomes collateral damage in a small fight in New York. Warning: Profanities. Mild Violence. (Two Loud Slaps to be specific). Grammar Errors. Not Beta’d. Characters: Unnamed Female Character x Steve Rogers Words: 1,775 A/N: I don’t know, I just thought of this idea and thought why not. Masterlist

You had never thought your life would become this wild, but you've gone with the flow. Who would have ever thought that finally starting this bakery in the heart of New York. It was tough, with just a handful of employees, would bring you into so much chaos in your once peaceful life.

Meeting the Avengers had been a wild ride with a smooth beginning for you. First meeting Sam, a man that was looking for a quick snack post-work out. A man with a soft smile and quick quips that brought a smile on everyone's faces every single time he would come to visit. Then eventually, he came not alone, but with two of his best friend and your life changed ever since.

Bucky Barnes was the mellow of the trio, preferring to stay in the background while Sam would try his hardest to flirt with you and push his other friend with you. But he always had this charm on him that had a few of your female employees swooning just by the simply nickname of Doll he would throw at them.

But Sam's other friend had all his attention on you just as much as you had your entire attention on him. The dame that always spoiled him with sweets and made him enjoy morning runs more now that your bakery become their daily stop after.

It started out with the flirtation, at least that was what Steve believed it to be. Having been used to Sam's daily flirtation, you got so immune to it that it had become easier to hide the warmth in your cheeks or the heart eyes that Sam and Bucky were once quick to point out when Steve wasn't looking. Eventually it ended with him finally asking you out for lunch and the rest, as they say was history between the two of you.

Eventually, it had brought you into the circle of what was his team. The Avengers. Starting with one Tony Stark that had visited your bakery one fair morning and brought everything in your bakery long before the trio would come for their visit. It was an eventful day for you, that much you could admit. Everyone had the rest of the day to themselves and gave you time to spend with Steve, as annoyed as he was to not be able to have his usual treats. You made him your special apple pie as compensation, much to his enjoyment.

Then it was the rest of the team, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, and Vision. Visiting after getting a taste of your pastries that Tony Stark had generously provided for the team. Now like the trio, you now have another trio you can call as your regulars. Then there was Clint Barton, Thor, and Dr. Bruce Banner that eventually came to visit after everyone had egged them on and they would come for a few pastries and coffee, but not as much as the rest of the bunch. You were alright with that, being able to meet Steve's team and knowing each and every single one of them were good people in their own little way was enough for you.

Weeks turned into months, and months now turned to almost two years. Your life at the bakery was filled with ups and downs just as much as your relationship with one Steve Rogers. The constant fear you had when he was on a mission, uncertain whether he would come back alive or not. Then there was the more often than not times that you were too consumed with the bustling number of customers than you only had time to give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before helping out on the cashier. It had once been a fight between the two of you because of your line of work, but you would constantly compromise. He was out saving the world while you were living the dream you had always wanted for yourself with baking. Instead of his apartment in Brooklyn, Steve was now living with you, in the humble little apartment you had above the bakery. Your little piece of heaven.

This life you had created with Steve was something you had never thought you'd have for yourself but you were enjoying it immensely. You would want nothing more in your life. Until things had gone horribly bad and you want nothing more than to kill Steven Grant Rogers and the rest of the Avengers.

Y/N was going to kill him. That much Steve had known while they continued on with the debriefing. A quarter of New York City was wiped clean by the attack of the alien overlord attempting their luck on the planet. As much as Tony had assured that they could stay in the tower while repairs were being made, He was still uncertain with what you would be feeling because of it.

Nothing hurts him more than seeing you sad or disappointed.

"What's the ETA on the repair?" he inquired as soon as the meeting was done.

"More or less two weeks. We've had our team assure Y/N that her employees would be paid full for the two weeks while we are doing repairs." Tony explained. "Last time I heard she barely spoke a word while she helped her employees with cleaning up."

Steve could only sigh, annoyance peaking through his mind. It was worst than he thought.

"Mister Stark, Ms. Y/L/N is on her way to the meeting room." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced.

Before the A.I could finish with the announcement, the sudden slam of the door had everyone's head turn, every single one ready for another fight. But the sight of the innocent Y/N looking displeased brought everyone to a slight calm. There was still a problem, but this was better than another alien attack.

"Babe-"

The resounding slap had everyone else wincing. So much for the Super Serum. Everyone could see the red imprint on Steve's face and your shaky hand responsible for the said mark on the Captain's face.

"Your fucking shield destroyed the ramekins." you snapped, Steve could practically see you shaking from where you stood in front of him.

You were nothing, compared to him, a Super Soldier. But just the sight of you, fuming to the nose made everyone believe that you can easily take him on. This was a genuine surprise for Steve. He had seen so much side of his girlfriend of nearly two years. Through many stages of emotional turmoil, happiness, sadness, annoyance, dysphoria, and that godforsaken puppy dog eyes that he could never say no to. But this, the sight of you angry, genuinely furious was the last thing he would have ever thought to see from you.

"Everyone has a long day, Y/N." Tony approached and the glare than now focused on her made it very well known that his presence and his response was the biggest mistake he has ever made in the moment. "Why don--"

Tony wasn't able to finish his sentence as he gets to experience the same slap handed to him by you. Without the Super Soldier Serum, the sound of the slap resounded even louder than the former. Everyone was left in a mix of shock and the need to hold in their laughter at the shock look than now lingered on Tony's face as he rubbed his red cheek.

"As for you," you snapped pointing your finger right into Tony. "You're going to pay for both the fuckin bakery and my apartment upstairs. Of all the places Stark, you just had to throw the alien on my newly renovated bathroom."

Tony could only nod.

"Your people also need to talk to my employees, some of them are injured because a big fucking green dickhead thought it would be nice to throw alien matters into the basement like basketballs through the hoops." you snapped side-glancing towards the guilty Bruce Banner that refused to make any eye contact with you. "You're covered for their hospital bills, therapy, and two weeks of their supposed shift."

Tony gaped nodding.

"Jesus, why the fuck does it always have to be New York, better yet, why the hell does it have to be in the US? There are so many fucking countries in this world." You ranted turning your attention back to Steve that now broke into a small smile at your outburst. "You're not off the hook. We're staying here, but you're sleeping on the coach until further notice."

What smile he had now comes falling from his face. Blinking, this was a dangerous situation. Far more dangerous than his earlier encounter with the aliens only hours ago. But all he could do was nod, not knowing if any protest from him would result in a worst punishment.

"Sam," you turned to the man that now looked scared to be your focus. "Can you show me to the kitchen? I'll try making everyone someone to eat. God knows you're all starving." you request, all signs of anger now slowly dissolving from your features.

Steve didn't know what scared him more at this point, your anger or how quick you were able to recover from said anger. As Sam escorted you out of the meeting room, the rest of the team also made their way out to help you in whatever you may need in the kitchen. It now left Steve and Tony alone, practically still feeling the aftermath of your slap.

"Having second thought about proposing, Lover Boy?" Tony finally broke the awkward silence.

Taking a deep breath, the first chuckle all day finally escaped his lips.

No, he was far from having second thoughts. The engagement ring hidden in his locker room made it evident to him what he was about to do on their 2nd anniversary. It would take some convincing on your part after what happened. But you loved him enough to forgive him for what happened, since technically it wasn't really his fault why the bakery was ruined.

"The proposal is still a go, Tony." he responds finally leaving the meeting room to making his way to the kitchen, already hard at work with cooking what he assumed was spaghetti and meatballs and his favourite red velvet cake.

"Steve's not having any cake right?" Nat asked as soon as she caught sight of him.

"You know what, Romanoff--"

"Not even a fucking crumb." Your response even with you facing away from him had everyone roaring in laughter and Steve rolling his eyes even with the smile on his lips growing bigger at the situations.

The things he has to endure for love.

#steve rogers one-shot #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x unnamed female character

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

sfw alphabet | k. tetsuro

➳ tags ;; fluff, angst, alcohol + sex mention but nothing explicit

➳ a/n ;; reupload from my old blog that an anon asked for <3

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

➳ Kuroo is a genuinely affectionate person towards his loved ones. Naturally, he does like to mess with you just a bit by withholding kisses or hugs - but truthfully he can’t push it too much because he really likes showing you attention.

➳ Also despite himself and his love for teasing you, Kuroo isn’t a big fan of PDA! He likes having a hand resting on your back, rubbing circles into your hand and squeezing, or a very quick kiss to the temple when no ones looking but he prefers to show his soft side when it’s the two of you alone. He can go from making fun of you to wrapping his strong arms around you and whispering sweet nothings to you in a matter of seconds

➳ Kuroos affection isn’t limited to touch, or is it even really dictated by touch. His love language is acts of service and quality time - so he more often than not shows his affection through gestures. Warm towels if you’re at his place, taking your car to get filled with gas, putting ice on your snowy sidewalk so you make it home safe. Kuroo’s nonchalance towards everything is genuinely funny contrast to how truly and utterly considerate he is towards you and your well-being.

➳ Maybe not conventionally affectionate but affectionate all the same.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

➳ Kuroo is the kind of best friend that you have for like..10+ years. If you two feel truly platonically towards one another - he’s the kind of best friend that makes other people in your life insecure because you simply know each other so well and love each other so much in the sense that you’re platonic soulmates.

➳ There’s probably no one in the world who knows you quite as well as Kuroo does and it goes the same for you. Neither of you can ever stop being friends because you two know too damn much about the other. Kuroo knows about the weird moles and pimples on your body and you know about his weird boner stories from when you two were in middle and highschool. You really can’t afford to stop being friends, so good luck trying to escape him.

So. Many. Inside Jokes. Y’all are terrible sometimes. I don’t think either of you ever realize how many you’ve got and you end up referring to them so normally sometimes people don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about and everyone just kinda sighs and lets you two talk on your own. AND yall wonder why no one wants to talk to you two… like you aren’t busy just talking to each other. Kenma is probably the only person who can decipher any of the shit you say, and let’s out a few breaths through his nose but that’s about it.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

➳ Kuroo doesn’t love full on cuddling, tbh. He’s more of a fan of like.. laying on top of each other or other smaller forms of affection. He also is pretty keen on liking hugs (loves backhugs.. giving and receiving. when he feels your body pressed against his back he literally melts) but he’s not big into spooning. He doesn’t mind it if you wanna do it though - if he knows you like cuddling, he’s down for you to do it but it’s not where he defaults.

➳ Kuroos cuddles are more like you laying your legs in his lap and him massaging your calves. You falling asleep holding his arms. You playing with his hair when he’s tucked under you. He likes casual cuddling as opposed to cuddling sessions.

➳ When he’s really exhausted though - he’ll give you a real worn out smile and pull you deadass on top of him. Like just your body weight on top of him (and no, he doesn’t care that you might be heavy. He knows that) and just stares up at your face. Bonus points if your hands come up and play with his face (LOVES THAT)

➳ “long day, tetsu?,” as you cradle his face in your palms. He’ll pin your wrist with his hand and kiss the inside of it before rubbing his face against it like a cat.

➳ “long day baby,”

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

➳ Kind of sad, but Kuroo knows how to take care of himself really well because of his parents divorce when he was a kid. He did a lot of cooking and cleaning really young because his older sister was out of the house but he was still young enough to be living there. She would do everything she could for Kuroo in other ways (i.e. helping pay for volleyball and shit like that) but Kuroo was a really independent kid and practically raised himself. Kenma’s mom took care of him too - but Kuroo was like 7 or 8 learning how to fold laundry. By the time he was in highschool, he pretty much did everything for himself.

➳ In terms of domesticity, at a certain point - Kuroo genuinely just accepts you as The One and from then on, you two are a pretty serious couple. You live together early on, and are the kind of relationship in which both of you are just very assured that the other person is the one. Kuroo gets his first nice apartment with you on the lease, and eventually you two buy a condo together in the long run. He enjoys being with you a lot. Home is wherever you are you know.

➳ Surprisingly, one of Kuroos favorite things to do with you is clean with you. You two have a playlist of music that you bump on your speakers as you do your spring/weekly cleaning. You take turns cleaning the bathroom each week. You’ll fold laundry while Kuroo fixes the bedsheets. It’s a team effort and genuinely one of his most beloved ways of spending time with you. When you both get tuckered out, you sit on the floor of your fresh apartment, and drink wine and watch sitcoms. Domestic bliss.

➳ On another note, Kuroo can’t cook for shit baby - but he helps. He can cut kinda efficiently but he’s a hovering boyfriend in the kitchen so normally you just kick him out. Always does the dishes afterwards though!

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

➳ Straightforward about it. Kuroo isn’t gonna beat around the bush when it comes down to a break-up, because the decision to break-up probably took him a long time to get too. Kuroo has a soft heart, and he’s a hopeless romantic. Similar to how his childhood influenced him in one way, Kuroo can’t help but want to fix and repair every relationship he’s in. Even at the cost of his sanity, if it helps keep him and his s/o together, he’ll do it in a heartbeat. Afterall, why would he want to start over with another person? Kuroo chases love, but when he finds it for the first time, he cannot think about loving anyone but you. If you’re breaking up, it’s not over something petty. It’s after hours of contemplating whether this is the right thing to do for the both of you. Hours and hours of holding back tears and wishing things would be different. I can’t see him doing it first to be honest, but if has too - he’s to the point.

➳ To your face it might not seem like he cares. He just says it, those dreaded words. He gives you closure, about how it just wasn’t working anymore and all of that and then he just.. leaves. He seems fine.

➳ As soon as he gets to the car, his head drops down onto the steering with a thud and his soft hiccuping cries turning into full blown sobs. His face is in his hands and he’s cursing under his breath. He feels like a part of him has been torn from his body and everything fucking hurts. It’s a pitiful sight.

➳ He really misses you, you know?

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

➳ Hesitant about marriage, naturally. I don’t think I need to repeat myself on why. He’s still incredibly loyal to you. You two are the kind of couple that date for years. Like.. at least 8+ years of dating but tbh, neither of you mind that much. I think to be with Kuroo, you need to be willing and open-minded about the structure of a relationship. Kuroo values independence and marriage as an institution puts a lot of pressure on a relationship in Kuroo’s mind. He would rather you two continue to love and cherish one another without the extra force of needing to get married.

➳ He does want too though, don’t get me wrong. Not at the cost of your emotional responsibilities being increased though, but as a way to show his loyalty. He’ll propose when the time is right for both of you - no pressure.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

➳ Kuroo isn’t particularly gentle in either way to be honest! It’s not bad though.

➳ Physically, he can be gentle when it’s appropriate. Mostly during the day, or when he’s comforting you and it calls for more gentle touches. However, Kuroo’s emotions around you aren’t very delicate and he expresses himself through physical touch. So his hugs are passionate, generally. All of his affection is an expression of his strong feelings towards you - the correlation is strong so Kuroo isn’t really all that gentle. His love and his touch are full of feeling and strong. A little overwhelming in a good way.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

➳ Hugs are his favorite forms of affection. Hugs that last super long, like longer than they need too where you melt into his tight embrace and he can bury his face in your shoulder or in your hair and take a deep breath. You smell like you and that’s so much more comforting than you know. Kuroo hugs long and just right - arms around your waist with just enough pressure, his hands on your lower back.

➳ He gives you hugs constantly. At home it’s back hugs, chin resting on your shoulder to peep at whatever you’re doing on your phone. In public, quick ones where he’s kissing your forehead before enveloping you in an over dramatic way to where you’re laughing. After a long day at the office, it’s a long, silent hug. Just gentle sighs and breaths, soft beating hearts. More like an embrace, you know.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

➳ Slow. If you’re hoping to verbally hear Kuroo say the words “I love you,” you’re in for a shit show and you’re gonna be waiting for a while. It’s not that Kuroo doesn’t want to say it, or even that he doesn’t know. He’s known for so long, probably way earlier than you did. The first time he almost said it, you two had been dating for only 3 weeks. It flustered him so much - he literally short circuited, stuttering trying to cover it up. The memory haunts him.

➳ He says it after you two have sex for the firs time or after your first really serious fight - depends tbh. It just happens when he’s heavy in his feelings, like so overwhelmed by something. For him - admitting to it is genuinely some kind of end all be all. He loves you - openly and saying that is hard. It’s vulnerable for him. Kuroo got used to dodging his feelings.

He shows you all the time how he feels. Saying it is just nerve-wracking and he needs a bit of push to do so.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

➳ Not super jealous! Sorry if that’s disappointing, but Kuroo is a really secure partner and he tries to dodge petty feelings of jealousy and rarely experiences them. Like.. if you just have close guy friends Kuroo really isn’t gonna throw a fit. However..

➳ Kuroo can always, always tells when someone is interested in you. It’s like a 6th, spidey sense he has. You, on the other hand, do not know when someone is interested in you. You just happen to think your co-worker of the opposite sex who always eats lunch with you and calls you his work-wife is being friendly and open with you but Kuroo can just sense it. Again, he isn’t a jealous boyfriend. Not at all. But seeing all the light drain from that guys eyes when you give him a kiss as he picks you up from work?

➳ That felt pretty good, he has to be honest.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

➳ Forehead kisses! So many forehead kisses! When he was little, Kenmas mom would smother him in affection and always pulled back his super messy hair to kiss his forehead. Kuroo picked up on the habit plus he’s pretty tall so it’s easier to reach you that way. Also a fan of just kissing the top of your head if he can.

➳ He likes kissing your knuckles too, he’s traditional that way. His favorite is kissing your lips in little bursts. Kuroo likes the way your chapstick tastes so much, it’s actually kinda sweet.

➳ His kisses are so full of yearning. It feels like you’re melting together, it’s fluid and tends to be passionate. When he’s feeling playful, he kisses you then pulls back and brushes his lips against yours before kissing you again and again again until you’re giggling.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

➳ So good with kids, holy shit. You wouldn’t expect it but he’s just a natural at it. He always picks up the fake phone, drinks the imaginary tea with the most sincere review. Makes it look super easy and kids gravitate towards him because he’s just so friendly. He’s not afraid to look stupid and he’s confident and handsome so they like him.

➳ He loves talking to kids, too. Half the time they’re saying nothing and Kuroo is like fuck yeah you tell em, and he MEANS IT.

➳ Kid magnet at parties, ends up spending more time with them than with the adults but he doesn’t mind tbh. He jokes about playing mom and dad like you aren’t busy picturing it the whole time, smh.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

➳ Tend to be pretty face paced! You two normally wake up at different times, with Kuroos crazy work hours - your schedules are pretty mis-matched. Kuroo shows he’s thinking of you by making sure the shower has enough hot water, that the towels are folded and fresh, and that the water is on for when you inevitably go downstairs for coffee or tea. Those are the three things he pretty much always makes sure to do as a way to say love. If he has time to write a note, he will - but if not, he sends you a text when he gets to work and you do the same for work/uni.

➳ On Sundays, it’s a lot of sleeping in and making breakfast together and doing a shit-ton of nothing all day. Kuroo will pull you into him if you try to get up before him, cuddling into your back and whispering later in a gravelly morning voice. Sometimes you two shower together in an sfw way - Kuroo scrubs your back and you wash his hair. It’s fun and playful, but soft and intimate too. Kuroo always forgets to shave so sometimes you mess with the scruff on his chins.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

➳ You two always go to sleep together, at the same time if you can help it. If not, the other will stay up as long as they can or they sleep in the presence of each other. Neither of you are allowed to bring any work to bed, which is why there’s a desk in the corner of your bedroom. Work is work, sleep is sleep. Kuroo think’s it’s important to separate the two out, but sometimes if you two miss each other too much - you’ll just kinda hang around and sleep.

➳ Like Kuroo will let you just curl up on his lap and sleep on his chest while he works without a word of complain, soft smile on his face and eventually telling himself it can wait till tomorrow.

➳ Other than that, you two sort of talk yourselves to sleep? You do your small, independent routines and then come together and just sort of chat quietly until one of you falls asleep, normally you. Kuroo will kiss your forehead when you do, whisper night, and turn over to fall asleep himself. You two always end up tangled in each other though.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

➳ You and Kuroo have a lot of deep conversations before you ever start dating. It just kinda.. happens? Like many things in your relationship but you two talk A Lot. You never really run out of things to say to each other, because Kuroo genuinely values your insights and vice versa. It’s a core of your relationship and the both of you genuinely like discussion - though Kuroo can get kind of into debate territory when he has a strong opinion on something.

➳ When it comes to personal conversations, the words just.. come out of him. It’s slow for sure, but he can’t keep track of how much you know about him in the end. You always mention small details about himself and grin when you watch his face light up with a delighted surprise. It’s a gradual thing

➳ Kuroo has a lot of walls, so it takes a lot of time for him to really lay himself out in the open for you but he tells you eventually. In a way, he’s testing how long you can endure and be patient with his pacing for love.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

➳ Kuroo is rarely genuinely angry. He gets agitated over small things a lot but the moment is so fleeting, he forgets about the shit in like an hour. Really little things like getting cut off while driving or people who are rude to fast food workers. He gets a lil tick in his jaw and sighs, but gets over it really fast. Other than that, Kuroo is rarely ever mad. He doesn’t care enough about most things to be angry over it.

➳ The only times he’s mad, is when something is really outright wrong or stupid. Like if a close friend is making an openly poor decision, Kuroo will get pissed. It’s the same with you - he wants what’s best for you and if you do something he knows is bad for you, it upsets him. Even so, he wouldn’t get angry with you. He tries to cool down as best he can to avoid as much

➳ You do argue though sometimes, and damn they are nasty arguments. Neither of you goes unscathed but Kuroo isn’t too stubborn on apologizing and working things out. Too empathetic to your feelings to let it go on for a long time.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

➳ It’s more like what he doesn’t know about you. Kuroo remembers everything. He has a note in his phone of the way you like your food. He knows where you grew up, and about your childhood pets, and the way you used to play pretend. He knows how you do your hair, knows all your favorite things and things you hate and just the easiest way to get on your nerves and what makes your skin get hot. Kuroo keeps parts of you in his heart like memorabilia and finds it hard to forget things even if he wants too, attaching certain things to you in a way he hasn’t anyone else.

Sometimes though, he forgets really random things. Like small things you don’t talk any offense too that more just confuse you. He knows the name of your parents, but forgets whether you’re left or right handed.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

➳ Tough to pick just one but it sticks out as the first time Kuroo was really having a shit day. Normally he tries to swallow down his feelings in moments like that - forget, when he’s around you and show you the parts of him you like. He already knows he’s on thin ice with his general demeanor, kind of mean and assholey. He has this constant worry you’re gonna get tired of all of it someday, tire of having to read between the lines about his feelings. He tries really hard to be pleasant around you.

➳ But it wasn’t working that day, and he could just feel himself being unable to mask his feelings. You confront him about it, and he tells you - wholly expecting you to be.. well..annoyed with him maybe. He isn’t sure. But the way you handle it.. and handle him really sticks out in his mind. He tells you and instead of saying anything about it, you make him lean his head on your shoulder. Your cheek resting ontop of his hand, him holding your hand - you say “I’m sorry about your day. lets rest here and go get food,” and then just.. sit with him like that.

➳ It was like you read his mind, there was just something so stand out about the way you handled his feelings. Empathetic, and giving him an easy out for how to deal with them. He’s used to being relied on, not relying on others. It honestly made him want to cry.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

➳ So, so protective of you. He shields you from a lot, probably a lot more than you have any idea about. It’s really second nature to him.He doesn’t even know why all the way, it’s just that he wants you to be away from things that could harm you. Mentally or physically, he would do anything to keep you content and away from bad things. Still, you insist on sharing burdens with him and even though he understands why it has to be that way, if he could take everything on for himself - he would.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

➳ You two don’t get a lot of time to spend time together during the week, so Kuroo puts a lot of effort into things like date night and anniversaries where you can take the time to celebrate each other. Kuroo prefers going out for date night, and likes spoiling you to very expensive dinners and shit like that. He doesn’t mind domestic dates if that’s what you like, but he loves to show you off (a bad habit of his tbh) so anywhere you can get nice and dolled up and Kuroo gets to have you on his arm is ideal. Posting you on all his socials, gassing you up all night with a hand on your waist.

➳ In the everyday, it’s very little things he always does to make sure you know he’s thinking about you. Texting you, calling you on his breaks, sometimes he’ll have coffee and shit delivered to your apartment/office when he has some time. Small gestures and acts of love like that.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

➳ When he has a strong opinion, he gets really fucking arguementative. He is a BITCH to argue with because he really doesn’t like admitting he’s wrong, plus he’s petty with a sharp tongue. Don’t date him unless you’re at least a little tough because even if you’re getting hurt by his words, Kuroo finds it hard to snap out of his anger sometimes and can just be a real pain to talk too sometimes. Just very… debate? Sometimes feels like he just argues to argue.

➳ Other bad habits are small, but is forgetful about picking up after himself - mostly with clothes. If he’s tired from work especially, socks on the floor, pants in the hall-way like a trail. It slips his mind if he’s tired enough.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

➳ Not very! Kuroo is really hygienic but in terms of like.. making himself look good or better, eh. He still works-out because he finds the routine is good for him mentally, but he has this very natural good-looking aura to him and it’s genuinely effortless. If he put even a hair more effort into his looks, it’d be wild. That’s why he cleans up so good but he’s got this lived in kind of sexy look to him, a little scruffy, messy-ish hair but still really cleaned up. His looks just suit him so well.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

➳ Nah, but Kuroo doesn’t feel like he’s really himself with anyone but with you. He’d be devastated if something ever happened between the two of you, but in a way - Kuroo would feel like all good things come to an end just like you two did, so he’d move on. But there’s this lingering sense that he’s not himself anymore, like he doesn’t know who he really is unless you can pull out the authenticity from him. He always had his guard down around you so once you’re gone, they go right back up. He loses himself it almost feels like, like he doesn’t know exactly who he is anymore.

➳ He struggles with impostor syndrome all the time, so it just worsens when you leave. It’s almost dehumanizing.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

➳ Kuroo has a soothing singing voice. It’s just nice, kind of low and soft. It’s gravelly too, but still so soothing. When you’re tired and ask him to sing to you, he will. He sings very gold Japanese love songs that his mom would dance to him with in the house when he was little. But his favorite thing to sing is fly me to the moon, he knows the words by heart. He has a hand on the small of your back with you curled into your chest, smiling as he feels your breathing go even.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

➳ He hates anyone who isn’t open-minded! That’s one of the things he absolutely cannot put up with. Ignorance is incredibly unattractive to Kuroo, and that goes beyond obvious things like bigotry but generally, judgement of other people because of how they live instead of their character. Kuroo is incredibly respectful of people different from him, because he thinks it’s more important to understand someone's character than get caught up in other things. If he feels that vibe off of someone, he will generally steer away from there.

➳ He thinks if someone is overly concerned with how other people live, they’re bitter - that vibe turns Kuroo off.

➳ Also Kuroo understands if his partner is insecure or has self-esteem issues, but doesn’t like people who bait for his attention. He prefers you just be authentic with stuff like that so acting out in a negative way for his attention can be a turn off.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

➳ Snoring! Very soft snoring, but he most definitely snores. Sometimes, depending on what position he sleeps, it’s not so.. gentle? and he wakes himself and you up. He apologies everytime and ends up sleeping on his back so he isn’t too loud. He also likes cuddling in his sleep but he doesn’t realize it most of the time so you’ll be half-way awake with this 6’4 man curled around you like a cat, not realizing it.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo imagine #haikyuu imagine #writing tag #not me uploading this at 6am

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carrotycake · 3 years

Text

the world put you in front of me (and we aligned)

A chance encounter at an Ishgardian dance, and Ysayle finds herself falling in love all over again.

4.1k words | Rated M | FFXIV | Estinien/Ysayle pairing | AO3

It’s funny, Ysayle thinks. She has spent so much of her life fighting and despising everything the nation of Ishgard stood for, that to be standing here, on the balcony of one of Ishgard’s largest manors, feels a tad hypocritical. For the first time, she appreciates the beauty of the land stretching out in front of her, the late-night sunset (which is as close to a summer as Coerthas gets) casting orange and pink hues across the grey pointed spires of the city itself. She rests her arms on the balustrade, observing the chatter of guests down below. It is oddly peaceful, despite her protestations at being invited in the first place. And still bitterly cold, of course, despite it being summer. Ysayle, shivering, rubs her hands together in an attempt to warm herself up; she had left her coat inside and the thin fabric of her gown was not nearly enough to ward off the freezing night air.

She sighs, her breath exhaling into a cloud of mist in front of her. Had she not gone by the name ‘Iceheart’ for years, revered by her heretic followers? She had survived many harsh Coerthas winters, only for her to shiver now at the merest hint of a breeze. Admittedly, she had found the warmth of the ballroom inside to be a little much, packed as it was with nobles, commoners, and politicians alike. The fresh air, cold as it was, was extremely welcome.

It was Aymeric, of course, that was behind the ball, and her invite to it – the Warrior of Light’s dear friend, and perhaps the most influential man in the city. Endlessly charming, he had persuaded her that it was an olive branch, of sorts, to mend the rifts between heretics and men. And – well, she had wanted to make amends. Lead those who walked after, and all that.

“Out here enjoying the festivities, I see?”

A familiar voice drags her from her thoughts, and she turns to see the tall, lithe body of Estinien crouching carefully on the gables above the double doors leading back into the ballroom. She frowns, irritated that he had caught her unawares in a moment of introspection.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

He shrugs, getting to his feet and gracefully hopping onto the ground beside her; ever the dragoon, she notes. He’s not in the armour he wore the last time they had seen each other, before Azys Lla. Like Ysayle, he is dressed in an approximation of Ishgardian formal wear, his long white hair tied in a loose half-ponytail. He’s handsome, her mind helpfully supplies, and she wills the thought away before it becomes trouble.

“Long enough,” he replies, leaning on the railing a fulm or two away from her, his gaze distant. He frowns. “Formal…balls aren’t really my thing. I needed some air. And – a break from drunk nobles trying to get me to dance with their offspring.”

Ysayle chuckles, despite herself. “I must admit, I did not recognise you at first. You clean up well, when you’re not head to toe in dragon blood.”

He bows his head. If Ysayle is not mistaken, she sees the hint of a blush colour his pale cheeks.

“Well,” he mutters, “You are the opposite, Iceheart. I believe there was not a soul in that room that did not notice you upon entering.”

She raises an eyebrow. “In a good way, or a bad way? Pray, do elaborate.”

Estinien splutters for a second. “Well, I – It is a nice dress. That is all I meant. No doubt the haberdashers will be inundated with requests for similar styles by tomorrow morning.”

A slightly backhanded compliment, but a compliment, nonetheless. “Damned by faint praise, I see.”

She turns to look back towards the sunset. “It is actually one of Tataru’s creations, so they’ll have a hard time prying the pattern from her little hands.”

Tataru had taken over creative control of this project, because formal dances were certainly not Ysayle’s area of expertise, and the Lalafell had been only too happy to help out. The light, drapey cerulean fabric of the dress belied the traditional Ishgardian style, but Ysayle had never cared much for tradition anyway. It was pinned and tucked beautifully, with embroidered details on the neckline and hem. It even – scandalously – showed off a little cleavage, something Ysayle wasn’t necessarily unhappy with.

They stand like that together, a little distance apart, for a few minutes; enjoying the last rays of the sun in what appears to be a companionable silence. How many times had they done this, a mere few months ago? Accompanied by Alphinaud and the Warrior of Light, of course, but together nonetheless. Sunsets always seemed even more spectacular when seen on islands beyond the clouds. Ysayle had never thought to see such beauty again in her lifetime; she had expected to die on Azys Lla, one last act of service as Shiva.

The gods, as it happened, must have had other plans, as she’d fallen from that great height and landed in the middle of a Vanu Vanu outpost; the last remnants of Shiva’s protection shielding her from further harm in the fall. Word had gotten back to Camp Cloudtop of her survival, and she had eventually woken in the infirmary in the centre of Ishgard. Mere days after her own discharge, and Estinien was staying there under the very same care as she had.

She had avoided visiting, though, despite Alphinaud’s almost-insistence that she do so. She had never thought this far ahead in life; now there was peace, real peace, and her old role was no longer needed. Lord Aymeric, introduced through the Warrior of Light, had requested her help in rehabilitating the remaining heretics and repairing the city in exchange for a pardon for her crimes, and she was not about to turn down such an offer. The Scions had allies, and she herself was still blessed with Hydaelyn’s gift, so she might as well make herself useful.

In quieter moments, however, her mind always drifted back to Estinien. She admitted to being a little disappointed when he disappeared from Ishgard without a trace after his recuperation; the small, naïve girl within her longed to believe that they could have been…something, more than just acquaintances passing in the night.

“You are deep in thought, my lady,” he says, a statement more than a question. Ever with the formalities, even when they were at each other’s throats with opposite ideals.

She shakes her head. “Just reminiscing. My life has taken on a trajectory I could not have anticipated before I had met you and your allies. I have much to be grateful for.”

“I admit, I was – glad to hear you had lived. My own fortunes were, you could say, not so lucky after our victory on Azys Lla. I did not hear about – you – until after I had awoken in the infirmary.” Estinien looked – embarrassed, perhaps? Ysayle could not tell, in the dim light of the evening.

“I-” He falters, swallowing. “I wanted to apologise. For things I have said. Knowing now the full truth of the war betwixt man and dragon, I – I said some unkind things. ‘Twas not your fault that I was ignorant.”

Ysayle takes a moment to think on his words. They were not the people they once were, after all. The truth, she thinks, has changed them both. She looks at him, then – he does not shy away from her eye contact – and nods.

“Apology accepted. For what it’s worth, I have a great deal to apologise for as well. My conscience is not clear, by any means.”

Estinien cracks a small smile. (She tries not to think that a smile suits him. It really does.)

“Aye, that is true.”

Their conversation was momentarily interrupted by a change of music from the ballroom – a slightly faster tune, reminiscent of folk tunes Ysayle heard as a child at communal dances in Falcon’s Nest. It was clearly designed to bring more couples onto the dance floor, and was so far having the intended effect. Ysayle could see the Warrior of Light, dressed in finery (another of Tataru’s creations), swinging Alphinaud a little too fast round in circles on the dancefloor. Aymeric could be seen, too, dancing politely with Hilda; commoners and nobles alike danced merrily to the band’s music. If this was their new republic, Ysayle thinks, then she quite likes it.

It is this train of thought that compels Ysayle with more bravado than she has; not thinking about where it might lead, she turns to her brooding companion.

“Well, when all is said and done-” She holds out a hand to Estinien, “Care for a dance?”

His brow furrows. “I’ve never- I mean. Forgive me, Ysayle. I’m not much of a dancer.”

She smiles lightly. “Neither am I. But we are alone, for the time being. Indulge me.”

“As you wish,” he frowns, still a tad reluctant, but he takes her outstretched hand regardless and pulls her close and Ysayle thinks, oh.

Oh no.

It has been a long time since she has been this close, physically, with anyone, and she wonders if Estinien can feel her heart thudding loudly in her chest. They stumble at first, taking a few attempts to figure out the rhythm of the song versus the clumsiness of their feet, but eventually settle into a gentle waltz.

Ysayle is acutely aware of the position of Estinien’s hand on the small of her back; its warmth – and he is so warm – practically burning through her dress. They are closer than they need to be, exactly, for the formality of ballroom dance, but Ysayle finds that she does not mind. He is avoiding her eyes now (deliberately, she thinks), so she instead concentrates on the position of her hand on his shoulder, her other hand clasped tightly in his as they circle aimlessly together across the balcony.

“So,” he begins, uncertainly, once they’d found their rhythm, “Where did you learn to dance, then? You seem to have more of a head for it than I.”

Ysayle smiles. “A little, as a child. And we had plenty of impromptu dances when I was-” When I was with the heretics¸ she would have said. Another time, in another life. Estinien, evidently noticing her hesitation, raises an eyebrow.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I simply cannot imagine a band of heretics indulging in such trivial things as dances whilst plotting the fall of Ishgard.”

“You are a fool, then, if you believe that we did nothing but sit around and curse the Holy See whilst getting drunk on dragon’s blood,” Ysayle scowls, swinging Estinien round a little more forcibly than she had intended. He stumbles, a little, before righting himself.

“I did not give much thought to the heretics unless they were forcibly attacking the city,” Estinien says, his tone serious, but the quiet glint in his eyes relaying a certain kind of humour. Ysayle rolls her eyes. He always knew exactly how to push her buttons to get her riled up when they were travelling together, and it seems not much has changed.

“I’ll have you know,” she huffs, “Lord Aymeric himself requested my assistance in restoring the city-”

“To avoid a jail sentence, yes,” Estinien has an eyebrow raised, smirking. He positions his arms just so, allowing her to dip backwards as part of the dance. His arms are secure, holding her in place perfectly before swooping her back up. They continue their circles together, Estinien chuckling at Ysayle’s irritation.

“For someone of little skill, you have picked up this dance remarkably fast,” she comments, her face flushed – from the exertion of the dance, or from Estinien’s attention, she was yet unsure.

“I’m a fast learner,” he says, and was it her imagination or was he a little closer to her than before? He stares resolutely ahead, his expression faintly jovial, and Ysayle tries not think about how good his arms felt holding her up.

The upbeat song currently playing comes to a close and, after a brief interlude, a new one starts up, slower than the previous one. Adjusting their pace accordingly, she thinks back a few months to their expedition together. Gods, she had not cared for the dragoon upon first meeting him. He was narrow-minded, and brash, and had been all-too willing to fight and kill the very creatures they were trying to make their allies without a second thought.

And yet – she had grown to like him, over those many days travelling. At first, the attraction had been purely physical. He was handsome, after all, and Ysayle had caught a peek of him removing his armour to see chiselled muscles and a wiry frame; something inside of her had fluttered, momentarily, when he had removed his helmet in front of her for the first time, revealing uncharacteristically soft, fair hair and deep-set blue eyes.

“Don’t get used to this,” he’d muttered, noticing her looking at him. “I can’t eat your soup with a helmet on.”

She’d blushed, then, almost as much as she was surely blushing now.

Even with Estinien’s growing connection to the Eye of Nidhogg – she’d felt it, creeping, growing, gnawing at him even as they travelled together – and his insistence that killing the wyrm was the best solution, she had caught glimpses of a kinder man underneath his harsh determination. Alphinaud had seen it too, as had the Warrior of Light. It endeared him to her, whether she wanted it to or not. And in the long weeks that had followed her miraculous survival, there had been much time for her to dwell on these thoughts.

Halone’s tits, she was in it now, wasn’t she?

It occurs to Ysayle, just then, that the slow pace of the current song meant that their little, secluded waltz had become less of a dance and more just – swaying gently, endlessly circling, not really paying attention to any kind of rhythm. The whole world, for a second, felt like it was just the two of them, the stars aligning to bring them together in a single moment.

“Your hands are cold,” Estinien murmurs, and she forgets for a moment that she still had one of his hands in hers. Usually a woman of great eloquence, she suddenly finds she is tongue-tied, she cannot speak-

“Y-yes, well. Perhaps it is you that is warm,” she whispers, her breath hitching in her throat as he brings her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. He almost seems surprised at his own boldness, his eyes crinkling in a rare bit of humour at her response.

“Mayhap,” he replies. The night is almost completely upon them now, the only light illuminating their faces being the candlelight from the outside lanterns and the ballroom itself. Their eyes meet, Estinien’s expression unusually soft.

Ysayle is not sure who makes the first move but suddenly his lips are on hers, her arms snaking around his neck, his hands on her hips, guiding them in a new kind of dance. In the end, it does not matter, because she is kissing him, and it is suddenly all she can think about. How long had she thought of this moment? How long had she imagined what Estinien’s kiss would feel like? It was, in truth, longer than she would care to admit.

He kisses with the air of someone who does not have a huge amount of practice, but makes up for whatever experience he lacks with strong, guiding hands; Ysayle soon finds herself pressed up against the iron railings of the balcony, the coldness of the metal on her back in sharp contrast to Estinien’s warm embrace. She feels goosebumps on Estinien’s neck where she is touching him; – yes, her hands are always cold, so cold – she moves a hand round to his lapel, using it to anchor herself to him and pull him closer, ever closer.

They break apart to catch their breath, and she looks up at his face, flushed as red as she’d ever seen it, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Do you, perchance, have a residence in Ishgard, Ysayle?” he breathes, still so close to her. Ysayle knows where this is going, knows where this might end up. And she wants it, Halone knows she does.

“That depends,” she says, curling a lock of his hair around her finger. Estinien exhales, almost impatient.

“On?”

Ysayle pulls away, just enough to see his face fully. “Is this…something you want? Truly?” Am I someone you want? She doesn’t say it, but the words settle between them anyway.

He frowns, a trademark scowl, and grasps the hand currently playing with his hair.

“It is. I am not one to deliver undue suffering to a soul such as yourself. And-” He looks flustered, struggling to articulate, “-this is something I have thought about often. In times of difficulty. The possibility of…something more.”

Oh.

“Well then,” she murmurs, his answer more than satisfactory, “In that case, I have a small apartment in the lower wards of the city.”

“I would very much like to get out of here,” Estinien replies, pressing a kiss to her cheek, another along her jawline. She lets her nails scratch the back of his head, just a little, privately enjoying the effect it seems to have on him.

“If you would permit me, my lady-” He breaks away suddenly, a spark of mischief in his eyes, and scoops her up bridal-style. She splutters, wriggling.

“What are you doing?!”

He peers over the edge of the balcony cautiously. “Avoiding any odd stares we might receive from my good friend’s guests. Now, hold still.”

Before Ysayle has any chance to protest, Estinien bends his knees and leaps, and Ysayle’s heart is rushing, the wind howling in her ears momentarily, and it is not far off what a dragon in flight feels like-

He lands, gracefully, some distance away from the mansion, and places her back on her feet with an uncharacteristic amount of care.

Hand in hand, she leads him through the lamp-lit streets, following well-worn paths to the lower area of Ishgard. More than once he catches her against a wall in a bruising kiss, so the walk takes considerably longer than it normally might on one’s own, but Ysayle is too busy wrapped up in Estinien’s arms to care.

The night is fully upon them now, so upon reaching Ysayle’s apartment there is a small amount of stumbling in the dark until she manages to find a lantern. Estinien, helpful as ever, is predictably distracting as she reaches for a pack of matches, hindered by his hands on her waist as he caresses her from behind.

“You know a lantern isn’t really necessary,” he growls, apparently eager. She rolls her eyes – realises too late that it was a gesture he could not see – and bats him away, momentarily.

“I don’t know about you,” she retorts, “But I like to see my lovers when I’m in bed with them.” She manages to strike a small flame into the lantern, illuminating them both in dim, soft candlelight.

Estinien raises an eyebrow, tailing after her as she leads him to the bedroom. “And has the Lady Iceheart had many lovers, in the past?”

She places the lantern down on the chest of drawers with a thunk. “A few. Borne out of convenience, mostly. Some out of love. All enjoyable, for the most part.”

It might have been a cold way of looking at it, but her time leading the heretics had come with its perks, namely that there was no shortage of people interested in her and her powers. She would never have dared manipulate anyone into sex or abuse her power in any way, but she had not been without company, had she so wanted it.

“And what about the famed Azure Dragoon?” she says, her tone a little more defensive than she had intended, “I’m sure the position comes with its own amount of attention.”

“Some,” he concedes, “But for the most part, I preferred to spend my free time training. A few dalliances, here and there. Nothing serious.”

Ysayle nods. Fair enough, she thinks. You’d have to be out of your mind if you actually wanted to sleep with that grouchy, stubborn arse of a dragoon anyway. Yet here she was.

“Well then,” she says, instead, “I still wish for your company tonight, if you’ll have me.”

Estinien is already against her, capturing her mouth in his and lifting her – a little roughly, not that she minds – onto the bed. “I was hoping we would get to that eventually,” he grins, wickedly.

“You’re an arse,” she replies, but there is no heart in the insult, not really. There’s not much time for thinking, after that, and she is happy to lose herself in Estinien’s arms for the time being.

Ysayle wakes from what might have been the most restful night’s sleep she’s had in some time. She casts a sleepy glance over her small apartment; the curtains had been left half-drawn the night previously, and the morning light was casting a bright glare across her bed, and the sleeping souls that lay within.

Ah, right.

Estinien is still sound asleep next to her; they must have moved apart in slumber during the night, but she distinctly remembers falling asleep in his arms. For the first time, she sees him and all of his scars in full daylight, and fights the urge to trace them gently with her fingertips. She settles for brushing his bangs out of his eyes; he is so peaceful in sleep, she thinks, his usual furrowed brow replaced with one of general content.

There are bruises too, newer ones, scattering across his neck and chest. Ysayle blushes, a little, because she knows that she is the one who put them there, and that there are similar marks on her own body. They will be covered with clothes, eventually, but for now they sit as a reminder of newfound passions and a lover she can’t quite forget.

His eyes flutter open, and an immediate scowl crosses his face as he adjusts to the bright light streaming in.

“Gods, do you always wake this early? To this kind of racket?” His voice is raspy with sleep, his long hair a little dishevelled.

She throws him a mock-frown. “Usually I remember to shut the curtains. I might have been…a little distracted last night.” She runs a finger along his jaw, lifting his chin so that she could lean and kiss him. He leans into her touch, a different kind of reverence.

“Ah,” he says, softly, when she pulls away, “Yes, that would make sense.”

Their clothes, haphazardly rumpled on a nearby chair would also suggest a measure of distraction. They had only paused long enough last night for Estinien to peel off Ysayle’s dress and his own clothes and place them somewhere off of the ground before continuing his ministrations.

“I don’t have anywhere to be today,” she says, by way of invitation, unsure as to how her overture would be received now that it was morning. Morning, bringing with it clarity, and the uncertain light of day. Estinien may not want anything more than whatever the previous night had been.

To his credit, though, Estinien reaches for her and brushes a few strands of silver hair behind her ear.

“Me neither,” he says, and Ysayle’s heart thuds in relief, “What activities have you planned? Lunch out, mayhap?”

This elicits a laugh from her, despite herself.

“Mm,” she smiles, “Maybe later. For now, I want you all to myself.”

Estinien responds in kind, using his advantage of strength and centre of balance to hold her firmly by the waist and flip her over, laying on her back.

“That can be arranged.”

His eyes are dark with want, and Ysayle finds that it pleases her greatly to be able to obtain this kind of reaction from him. She wants – well, she wants Estinien. All of him. Now. Obviously.

What she really wants, though, is Estinien for longer. Knowing that they might have something to come back to, a home found in each other’s hearts – the thought terrifies her, as it wasn’t something easily articulated to her stoic lover. Still, she thinks, perhaps in time.

For now, she has the man she wants in her bed, and that is enough.

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #final fantasy 14 fanfiction #estinien x ysayle #final fantasy 14 heavensward #carroty writes #this is me remembering i used to post my fanfic on here so here we are i guess #this is extremely self indulgent and i will not be criticised

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synchlora · 3 years

Text

several stories of tommys adventures in embroidery and mild (temporary) theft

bc i can't get them out of my head hhhh

back in the beginning of l'manburg, tubbo scraped up his knees a lot (a combination of young clumsiness and working on construction projects a 12 year old reasonably should not be allowed to) and, as you'd imagine, the knees on his pants got pretty ripped up. and while tommy was still honing his skills in sewing, he offered to stitch up some patches for his friend. the fabric the patches were made of didn't match the pants in the least and the thread was just a few shades too light in comparison to the color, the stitches spaced a bit too far apart, but they worked. and tommy, always one to add a flair to everything he does, used some extra green and purple thread he had to stitch some musical notes around the edges of each patch. tubbo has long since grown out of those jeans, but small musical notes still adorn various patches on his newer clothes. old habits die hard and so do nostalgic ones.

when fundy first came out, tommy wanted to do something special for him, something to make him smile. and so, he offered to sew up the old black jacket fundy never takes off. and while the fox boy was hesitant, he eventually conceded (after much pestering on tommys end) and tommy got to work on it. the jacket wasnt in too bad of shape, just needed more of a wash than anything. but for the parts that needed stitching, he used blues and oranges and pinks to patch it up. and along the front collar, he embroidered a bright trans flag. the colors weren't exact, it's not like he had many resources for new ones, but it was clear enough what the patch was. nowadays, when fundy is alone and feels (no, knows) he is forgotten, his claws absentmindedly drag across the now worn, soft patch that is fraying at the edges. and he doesn't know it actively, but somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he knows there is some love for him left out there yet.

the battle of manburg v pogtopia claimed all sorts of things, one of the more serious tragedies (/s) being jack manifolds signature blue-and-black hoodie. the damn thing was in tatters and tommy could not stand the sight of it, thinking through exactly how he could easily fix every time he saw it, if only jack would stop being so stubborn and let him sew it up. so tommy did the reasonable thing and stole it. the right sleeve was nearly disconnected from it and it was just torn up in general. and so he fixed it up with bright red thread, re-attaching the sleeve and darning a few singed holes in the fabric. and then he went about embroidering a circuit-like pattern that he'd seen jack work with before. he's not sure what any of it means, but whenever he sees wires and circuitry he thinks of jack. and right over his heart, he sewed sparks in golden thread erupting from the fabric. tommy returned the jacket in the middle of the night later on, keeping himself hidden while still ensuring the jacket made it's way back to its owner. jack never wore the jacket again.

in another feat of thievery, tommy stole nikis torn up cape for a bit. he imagined it'd only take him a day or two to fix up and then he'd be able to return it discreetly, no need for any fanfare or big, drawn out apologies (he HATES big drawn out apologies). but upon getting it, he quickly realized it'd take much more time than that. the cape had previously belonged to wilbur and that was quite evident in the deteriorating state of it. it was practically falling apart and he'd need more fabric if he was to even begin to fix it up. he chose a soft blue fabric to repair along the edges, intending to appear like calm ocean waves, though they turned out looking more like blue fire lapping at the edges. the other tears and small holes were fixed with some orange threads, and he decided a flair of some white tulips along the collar would accent it nicely. he returned it-- two weeks later than expected-- to a very pissed off niki. looks like a long, drawn out apology was due after all.

once, tubbo requested he fix up a vest of ranboo's that had gotten damaged from... well tubbo wouldn't say but the strange mix of burn holes and frantically cut slashes didn't clear up the history of the garment any more. still, as much as he wasn't entirely sure of ranboo at the time, he decided he was going to fix it for tubbo and tubbo only. he took out pink and blue thread to fix along the various tears. as strange as the damage was, he will admit it was quite easy to fix with such clean cuts to it, probably some of his best work. it was done a few days early and tommy sat stubbornly staring at the vest. as adamant as he'd been about not doing anything special for ranboo of all people (after all, he'd stolen his best friend, what'd he owe him?) tommy felt like the fabric was tragically empty. so he decided to compromise. and several months later during some insignificant moment doing some insignificant task, ranboo happened to glance a flash of purple in the corner of his eye. and he spotted several tiny, delicately sewn alliums inside the chest pocket of his vest.

wilbur was always a very dramatic person, feeling the need to not only narrate his actions with flair, but also to go about said actions with whimsy. whimsy that tended to get his clothes in a bit of a mess. just about every day, he'd come up to tommy with yet another new tear or hole in his clothes which tommy would endlessly feign irritation over before taking the garment and sitting around the fire with the rest of the small nations members and chat along as he sewed. wils old l'manburg outfit-- the casual one, the working jeans and leather jacket, soft with sun damage-- is covered in tiny embroidery work, random filigree designs, some shaky birds that gradually got more bird-like as tommy improved, even a small wing pattern sewn across the back of his jacket. every tear is sewn across in teal, the older rips faded to baby blue and the newer ones a bright cerulean. his old jacket is filled with stories, with love quite literally sewn through the fabric. but wilburs jacket from pogtopia is far more blank. it's sewn up, sure, but it's done with simple threads. basic sewing patterns in threads that match the fabric so well they practically blend in. if you know what tommys work looks like, it almost doesn't look like his. it's bare minimum, it's practical, and it's empty. but there is one single pattern that tommy has sewn onto it. it's a more recent addition, made since wilbur has... returned, for lack of a better word. a shakily sewn outline of a heart made in deep, indigo blue thread, it's weary pattern making it almost appear to be melting. wilburs not sure when tommy did it, but he's quite sure he knows where he got the thread. he cuts the knotted ends and tears the threads carefully from their place.

#MAN i just saw tommy canonically sews and i went fucking ballistic #so have these :]] i think a lot abt them #these arent all of the ones i wanna write these r just the first ones that i expanded upon #dumbass thots #dsmp tag #bitch boy #tommy innit #tommyinnit #c!tommy #long post #embroidery hcs

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arewelonely · 3 years

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calypso cubs, @lumosinlove fanfiction

i never get AU ideas this was a joy

ok so logan is calypso. he's just there and it's hot and he's missing his family and he's somehow surviving day by day, resigning himself to the fact that he's alone, on this island, and what is he supposed to do to pass the centuries?

then a redhead washes up on shore and he's gorgeous and logan pushes that aside to heal the boy and help him repair his ship. but finn has personality and jokes and also somehow sees logan and when he returns to his lil hut at night his brain is running in circles because there is no way on earth that finn would stay here, on this island, with logan until the end of time. logan can't ask finn to do that. so we get the logan denying his feelings and doing a little bit of hot and cold, as he does.

but he likes finn. there's something about him. and they kiss one day and it's good but logan pulls himself away because this is unfair, to finn and unfair of the gods to logan himself and the look on finn's face about breaks him. a few days later they make up; finn reveals his feelings and logan reveals the tragedy that is his life: if they are to be together, finn must stay on this island.

finn convinces logan to try and leave with him. he's so insistent and persistent and logan sees the love and hope in his eyes and he gets tired of saying no and he gets tired of wanting. so the two climb into the boat and they push off of the island.

it's fine for a bit. they get a bit away, to the deeper part of the ocean, and logan feels his chest rise in spite of his worries. finn is firey and grinning and has not interacted with the gods as closely as logan has.

the waves increase in their intensity. the joy on finn's face is replaced with shock and then a cold splash of fear as he's thrown from the boat. logan jumps in after him and struggles him back to the surface despite the rocky waves. he hauls him up back on the boat and lifts himself to peer over the edge, confirming finn is alright–he is. he's breathing. just a little stunned.

and logan dives under the water and doesn't resurface until he's close enough back to the island that finn won't see him.

logan's devastated. cursing the gods. pissed off at the world. angry as he goes around and sees the bits of finn left behind, the little messes they hadn't cleaned up before leaving. he hopes that finn has returned safely to his war. he hopes finn doesn't hate him too much.

and then a few weeks later there's splashing in the water and logan looks over, his heart beating, and it's not finn, but a tall sunshine boy who crawls his way on to the beach and lugs his boat behind him before collapsing and falling into a deep exhausted sleep.

logan wishes he didn't do it, wishes he acted better, but he stares at the boy for a good few minutes, wondering if there is any way the boy will wake up on his own, hop back in his boat, and just leave, before wrapping his arms around the boy's shoulders and dragging him along the sand to logan's hut.

the boy stays asleep for days. logan is both grateful and ungrateful for this–he doesn't have to talk to the boy. he can continue to grieve. but he knows at any moment the boy will become his responsibility–frankly, the boy is already his responsibility. he's making him drink some water whenever he mumbles and he knows his heart is pounding whenever the boy, fast asleep, clutches his wrist.

leo wakes up. he sees that logan is hurting and a bit cracked and he gives him as much space as he can–after all, logan is still caring for him. but logan also looks at him in ways he can't decipher and logan, frankly, has no idea why he's looking at him so much. there's none of finn in his face. but his eyes sparkle when he speaks.

logan pushes leo away when he kisses him. he then reaches out to bring leo back, but leo shakes his head and backs away. logan is either in, or he's out. and logan can't do this to leo, and he can't do this to himself. and he shakes his head, because leo's all healed and his boat has been fine since he's arrived on this island and logan just needs leo gone.

but, of course, it's worse without leo.

logan prays to the gods that no fucking other boy will come to this island, and, for a year, no one does. he is astonished that the gods are listening to him, but thankful all the same. his heart longs for the two boys... he doesn't have it in him to care for any others.

leo returns to the war. he is tougher than when he left, a bit more guarded, and his friends don't understand where he was that changed him this way. he refuses to speak about it–what's the point? he was hurt, and he doesn't want to go back... he doesn't even know if it's possible to go back. so, he'll never see logan again. alright. good riddance.

there's another boy who hangs out in the camp, somehow lively despite the stress they're under. and yes, he has red hair, not brown, and yes, the two are in entirely different circumstances, but leo tenses his jaw regardless and looks away. they're in a war. this could still have a devastating end.

finn understands this, and he and leo fight side by side, growing more comfortable with each other and avoiding any and all pulls to each other for the sake of their future sanity. but then leo isn't quite sure if their current sanity is better for this, and he looks at finn for a long time one night and then finn meets his eyes and then they're kissing and leo misses logan so very much.

the war fades to an end, or they win, or they lose, and finn and leo each know that something is missing between them. finn has determined that the pang in his heart is only a bit smeared with anger towards the way logan just gave up on him–logan was caring for him by sticking him back on the boat. logan wanted to make sure finn could return to his life. logan was trying to act kindly, even if it sucked.

leo and finn get to talking about their time during the war, the time that both of them, about a month apart, were lost at sea for a bit. their mouths hang open when they realize. logan.

they build a sturdier boat. they bring it to the edge of the sea. they travel back, trying to figure out where exactly they got lost the last time, how the winds sent them to wash up on logan's island. they wonder how logan's doing.

it takes days to arrive. the gods have zero interest in helping them and quite a bit of interest in pushing them away from this island. but they see it, in the distance, or they believe that they do and they keep going. leo shouts when he actually sees it, the trees as he remembers and a faint hut that brings back the pang in his chest.

finn has explained why logan, probably, refused to kiss leo. leo explained how logan had pulled him back in, and he knows that logan's feelings for him were most likely marred by his curse. he hopes this is the case.

getting to the island is a test of both finn and leo's strength. the waves are rocky as all hell and the wind refuses to help and they pull hard on the ropes for the sails to corral the wind somehow to get them to this island. logan has seen them and his heart is pounding because there are two people on this ship, and they're both standing, and they look like people he loves, and he stands at the edge of the water, not wanting to go and help for fear of making it worse.

but as they get closer, the waves increase on their own. logan makes eye contact with first finn, who has tears in his eyes, and then leo, whose sturdy expression he recognizes from the moment when leo asked him: was he in, or was he out?

finn calls to logan to swim up to the boat, and logan shifts his eyes to leo again, who nods harshly, and logan truly doesn't know what to do because he can't handle causing more harm to these two wonderful humans. but then they're both calling to him and they say to come and swim and logan remembers how good he felt when he spoke to both of them, and he pushes aside his fears as much as he can, swimming faster and faster until leo hauls him up on the boat and they're just staring.

but thunder cracks and logan flinches, hard, and finn wraps his hand around logan's arm and pulls him to the center of the boat and gives him something to do and tells him they'll talk when they get away. logan tries to explain it's not going to work–does he remember what happened last time?–and finn and leo tell him to shut up and just focus while they sail away.

and, somehow, they do. leo and finn are strong and skilled and logan is in awe and just trying to assist however he can. one or both of the boys look over every time the thunder booms above them and he just stares into their eyes as he shudders because, despite everything, they're somehow all here.

after hours upon hours, the seas and skies give up. they all fall to the ground and breathe heavily. logan reaches out his hand to leo and rests it next to his tentatively. he apologizes. leo nods, grabs his hand, and pulls him into a hug. finn makes some quip about how pretty they look and logan reaches out his hand to pull him in.

they land back on shore eventually. the gods are not pleased and make the journey take far too long. but it gives them much time to talk. logan learns how finn and leo know each other. he tells them everything–what's the point in hiding, if taking these leaps so far have brought him this much joy? who is he to deny them all the possibility for more?

logan sobs when he gets back on shore–but a different shore. he has told finn and leo about his sisters, and they've all planned to search for them. but first, they want to make a home. sprawling, no boundaries, with grass and trees and neighbors and no ocean as far as the eye can see.

logan isn't sure he'll ever get back on a boat.

finn just wants to wrap up his boys and explore their village.

leo befriends the farmers instantly and the three of them plant a garden.

logan stares out at his new home and smiles.

#calypso cubs #lumosinlove fanfic #cubs fanfic #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #leo knut #sweater weather fanfic #sweater weather au #cubs #calypso fanfic #arewelonely #want a hug?#logan x finn x leo

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tarithenurse · 4 years

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Nightingale - 33

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: Fluff and pining! All the fluff! Oh and some smutty hints. Mostly fluff though with a bit of doubt. (Proof reading? What’s that?) A/N: As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag! HUUUGE thanks to all who are reblogging already <3

Ch. 33

The muted sweep of the window sliding open is enough to wake Kakashi, his hands imperceptibly reaching for the kunaï tucked in between mattress and wall. Cotton. Right away, the scent relaxes him.

“Mmm?” he offers as a lazy greeting.

“You didn’t come back,” Uguïsu explains as she pulls the window closed.

Shoes are abandoned by the wall and the white-haired jōnin listens to the soundless steps nearing the bed which then dips under her weight. She waits for him to make room before she lies down, curled on her side and hand resting on his bicep. It sends shiver through his body that he neither can nor wants to suppress.

“So you decided to come here.” Kakashi likes that. “Maybe I should get you a blanket and pillow.”

Even in the darkness of the night, it’s clear she’s grinning. “I can just steal yours.”

“Prft! No way!”

“Hrm. Share then?”

A surge of nerves shoots out in every direction from his chest at the suggestion. He wants to cheer, hoot with joy and the blue-haired woman...instead he wordlessly lifts the cover and lets her scoot closer so close that her knees push against his thighs and her chest brushes against his arm when he breathes – something he suddenly has to struggle to do. I could stay like this forever. It feels like heaven as the silence envelops them.

“’Kashi?” she eventually ventures, “when...how will I know if I passed?”

Fuck! Right! “You could open the drawer in my nightstand,” he suggests.

Rolling over (and stealing most of the blanket) she does as prompted, and Kakashi knows exactly when her fingers wrap around the headband because a tiny gasp escapes her lips and he’s about to congratulate her when every thought is blown away. She’s holding him tight, head burrowed into the crook of his neck, left arm and leg thrown across to somehow pull them closer than ever. Sure, the hand clutching the headband is mushed between their torsos.

“Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!” Uguïsu giggles between kisses along his jaw, cheek and neck.

Despite a dizzying breathlessness, the jōnin manages to answer something relatively coherent.

She’s so warm. Soft. Moulding against his body that’s craving more and responds by embracing her as best as he can. It feels good. Too good. And the growing tightness in his abdomen doesn’t lessen when she tugs at his shirt to create access to slip a hand onto his skin. She can...my heart...

“Thank you, Kakashi,” his nightingale hums in contentment.

His heart is thumping wildly, mostly leading the blood downwards despite the attempt to keep his thoughts clean. “Always. Whatever makes you happy.”

Uguïsu’s thigh is slung across his legs just below the crotch. One small movement and she would be able to feel his predicament...but she stays quiet and her breathing eases into a deep lull. She’s asleep? It seems like it, however there’s no reason to risk waking the girl by moving to check. Or moving to adjust or lessen any discomfort Kakashi temporarily is experiencing.

...

If the trio in Team 7 were envious, only one of them openly shows it.

“...not even like it’s a special headband...” Naruto mutters despite the bump growing on his head, “ev’ry genin has it....’s not like it’s hard...”

Thankfully, Sakura is more than excited enough to compensate and it takes their sensei a while before he can wrestle the attention back and set out with them on their latest mission: an anonymous citizen needs help to repair the roof of a derelict old house.

It’s not that bad. Pitching in himself, Kakashi is surveying the uneven and broken shingles as he tosses what has to be replaced over the edge. The woodwork beneath is in surprisingly good shape and it isn’t long before Sakura exits with the good news that only one room has suffered a leak. She doesn’t on anything else she must have seen in there, and why should she? Any evidence of the previous inhabitants’ identities is gone, erased by the fading of memories or carefully removed by the only living relative.

There had been no sadness the day a much younger Kakashi had decided to find another home. Why didn’t I just sell it back then? Even as a teenager, he had had no dream of living a life where anything but a simple apartment wouldn’t suffice. On the other hand, he had had no need for the money he might have earned on a sale and despite not wanting the memories tied to the place to haunt him, something must have told him that getting rid of the house wouldn’t free him.

Now, as he stands on top of his old life, the unspoken dream is already beginning to seep into the old wood and settle deeper than the dust on shelves and floor. Yes, he smiles secretly, this feels right.

Naruto’s voice cuts through the growing reverie sharply. “Who would even want to live in this old dump?”

“Moron!” The boy has to dodge a sweep of a half-rotted trim. “No one when it’s like this and that’s why we’ve started fixing it.”

There’s a moment where the glare bounces off of Sakura with no visible effect.

“Well...I’m not doing all of the repairs...” Naruto mutters.

Sasuke huffs a laugh from down below, and the sensei and captain of the team thinks he can hear the underlying meaning clearly (something to the effect of: “of course you won’t because we’re the ones doing the work”) and he scrambles to defuse the bickering.

...

They’re right though. Lots of hammering and a few splinters later, there’s still a long way to go and even when the place is ready (eventually) there’s another matter waiting. How do you ask someone? Of course, Uguïsu won’t strictly need to know the history of the house or it’s available to her. It’s not technically lying to omit certain information. Who am I kidding?!

Fingers cart through the white hair, the nails scratching gently along his scalp. “What’s bothering you, ‘Kashi?”

Hanging out on the floor in her little living room, the tentative couple have each been reading their own book, but she must have noticed the lack of page-turning on his side of the carpet.

“Just...something Naruto said today,” he tries, gaining her full attention.

Dark eyes peer at him, a single brow arching in the way he knows means she’s about to figure things out quickly. “...about the exam and stuff?”

That’s a good excuse. “Among other things, yeah.” Closing his favourite book, the jōnin slowly moves to rest his head in her lap. “They got a way to go still...but they’re improving quickly, are dedicated, work hard...”

“You’re considering recommending them for the exam already?”

“Well...” Am I? “I’ve gotta consider it. All captains do...”

However, he doesn’t have to think about it right this moment. Not when Uguïsu is playing with his hair and he’s enveloped in the best, cottony scent. And the same goes for the other thing. Whatever it was. Some...not yet. Halfdozing, he smiles at a muted sputter of giggle and realizes how far she’s gotten in Icha Icha Paradise.

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 4 years

Note

How would the companions react to Sosu wanting to break up? How would they deal with being without them?

Cait:

She just knew it would happen. She knew that something as good as you..she didn’t deserve it, she was just surprised it took you this long to figure it out and decide to leave. Nonetheless, she was still hurt by how effortlessly you suggested “taking a break”, how she wished you would’ve at least cried or sounded a little choked up. As a matter of fact, a piece of her really wanted to punch you, beat you to a pulp for hurting her all over again, even if she thought she wasn’t worthy. You shouldn’t have ever given her that much hope damnit. She let you leave though, nose not bloodied and all the teeth still in your mouth. Dare she admit it, it was probably because she still loved you..no matter how bad you just hurt her. However it was only the beginning of yet another spiraling for cait. Psycho, jet, buffout and tons of drinks were to become her future. She would destroy herself, but she’d at least have some fun before she did.

Curie:

She was..confused at first. Yes that was a good way to describe it. “I-I’m not sure I understand..I-is there..is there something I did wrong?” She asked you with a soft look to her naturally gentle eyes. With a sigh you’d explain to the best of your abilities, trying your hardest to not cave in when you saw a small tear roll down her cheek. It was over and she knew it. She didn’t understand why but..she knew it. So with a shaky inhale, she’d compose herself, nodding in acknowledgment before furrowing her eyebrows and leaving the room. It was only whenever she was in private, she allowed herself to yell, sob and cry her heart out. After the break up, Curie as expected, would immerse herself even more into her studies. To make herself feel better, she decides that you not being with her has made her even better with her work but truthfully? She misses you terribly.

Danse:

“Danse..are you listening to me?” You’d have to repeat, trying so hard to keep up the stern tone you had initially used to break up with the man. He heard you, he couldn’t believe it though. With wide amber eyes, resembling that of a kicked puppy, his mouth would part- words refusing to come out despite how hard the man tried to form them. Eventually he just settled for taking a couple strides closer to you, a large hand grabbing your arm just as you decided to start walking away. Not knowing his own strength, the ex Paladin would probably end up leaving a bruise from how desperately he tried to pull you to him- just wanting to pretend he didn’t hear what you said at all, that maybe you didn’t say it and he could embrace you. It couldn’t be over so easy? Right? It didn’t matter because in the end you still withdrew from him, walking away even as tears streamed down his face. Was it because he was a synth? Did he fail you in some way? Were you just bored of him? The Paladin didn’t even want to know, instead he’d spend quite a few of his days hunting down ghouls and mutants, daydreaming of a way to make things right, his nights would be spent restless, the usually stoic man silently crying as he clutched a shirt you forgotten at his place, unable to stop himself from yearning for you beside him. He was once again, alone.

Deacon:

It hurt. Like, bullet to the asscheek kind of hurt. Deacon though...luckily for himself he was a master of putting up fake facades. As so, the man would brush you off, agreeing with roll of his eyes behind his shades. To be honest, his nonchalantness bothered you. However the minute you left, deacon fell apart. His days would be just a little more darker, even if you were still at his side as “friends”. Sure, he’d still cut up and make jokes with you but on the inside he was hating it. He really was starting to like you..no, he loved you. It no longer mattered though and that fact rendered him sleepless.

Gage:

Had you been anyone else, he would’ve put a bullet between your pretty eyes. Those same eyes he let himself fall deeply in love with...the very thought made the raider sick. He had shown you a piece of him that was never revealed to anyone else and still...you left him? Anger was certainly one thing he felt, boiling within his gut and exploding the longer he thought about it. In his mind you betrayed him. To make matters worse, you had the audacity to cry as you told him you no longer wanted to be with him..like you had the right. Deep inside though? Gage was hurt beyond repair, he really loved you..come think of it, he still does love you but he was smarter than to let himself get burned twice. Because of you, Gage would harden even more than he already was. He was still loyal to you as his overboss, fighting beside you..but it ended at that. Even if one day you decided that it was all a mistake, that you wanted Gage back, he would glare at you and turn on his heels to get a drink- which is bad considering he wasn’t one to fancy drinks.

Hancock:

His blackened eyes would blink, showing no emotion for once. Did he hear you right? Whenever you affirm that yes, he in fact did, Hancock would end up showing an emotion you never seen before, which was something to say considering he had always been an animated man. For once he showed true anger, slamming his hands against his desk and muttering for you to get the hell out of his face. He never thought he would’ve acted such a way, looking back on it and regretting it later..but he didn’t know what else to do and in the heat of the moment it made the pain he felt feel the slightest bit better. As you would assume, once he realized the magnanimity of the situation he would shed a few tears, rebound as many nights as he could and do all the chems he could find- yet none would help.

Macready:

The man felt completely helpless, baby blue eyes growing wide like a radstag in power armor headlights. He..he was open with you, let himself be completely vulnerable! Damn he even let you do the whole mutfruit thing..seriously though, he was only open like that with one other person. He didn’t expect to lose you too, yet here you were, breaking your relationship with three simple words “we’re through Mac.” He was so shocked he couldn’t barely say anything in response, finding his words to fizzle out to a pathetic cry when they finally formed. You had no pity on him though, just sighing and turning on your heels, leaving him to grieve yet another love lost. Once he pulled himself together he vowed to just focus on keeping a steady flow of caps going, even if that meant continuing to protect you no matter how bad it hurt. Don’t expect him to be nice though.

Maxson:

The words you spoke knocked the breath from his lungs. As the leader of a powerful military force, Arthur prided himself in being an amazing tactician. As good of one as he was, he didn’t see this coming. It certainly wasn’t what he was expecting when you requested his company in private, hell he was expecting maybe even a little quickie or something , not this...but it didn’t matter what he predicted, what was done was done. You just flatly told him “it’s over.” Before he knew it, Maxson’s tough exterior deteriorated to nothing- blue eyes filling with terror as he realized the thing that made him feel human, no, the person, that made him feel true love was going to leave him. He begged, dropping to his knees even- feeling absolutely pathetic..but it didn’t help. After the whole ordeal, Arthur would feel truly hallow, choosing to drown himself in duty and alcohol. If you still chose to stay in the brotherhood, he’ll be pretty darn petty, putting you on power armor cleaning duty or sending you to deal with mirelurks..but once he finds himself in his bed with another person, feeling like he wanted to die, he’d make it his mission to get you back.

Nick:

The moment you told him, he just nodded. It hurt too bad to say anything in his opinion, but he fully understood why. Even if you didn’t come out and say it, he knew that it had to have been hard..hard to wake up each day and roll over to see what he was. He was barely passing for being human, wires and other things poking out, he was painfully aware of it. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t think of any other reason why. It would hit him hard though. He’s certainly not the kind to try for rebounding, he already worked as much as possible so..he didn’t know what to do.

Old Longfellow:

Much to your surprise he wouldn’t have much a reaction, waving his hand with a dismissive gesture toward the door. Was he really telling you to get out? Yes he was. So he just watched, a deep frown shaping his features as you obliged. Like usual, he’d pour his afternoon drink, a far off look in his stormy eyes as he cast them down onto the amber liquid. It would only take a couple minutes for him to realize just how much he already missed your company. However it was at night when he no longer had your warmth beside him to cling to that he finally let all his emotion out- shedding a couple silent tears as he rolled to the opposite side so he wouldn’t have to stare at the emptiness next to him. Strangely enough though, to everyone else he wasn’t any different- acting eerily as though nothing happened.

Piper:

Automatically she’d start giggling, thinking you were just messing around. “That’s real funny blue, jokes on you, you can’t leave. I’m pregnant!” She started cackling, trying to return the joke..however her boisterous laughter subsided to a horrified grimace whenever she realized you weren’t laughing with her. Were..were you not joking? As quickly as she began to laugh, she stood up from her desk, walking up to you and scanning your face for any indication that you were just kidding. How she hoped you were..alas, you were not. For once she was rendered speechless, looking down at the darkly colored nuka cola on her desk- finding it unreasonably hard to look you in the eye. Whenever thud of the door closing registered she flinched, the sound ripping her from her distracted conscious. It was then she’d she’d a few tears, quick to wipe them away with her gloved hands and fight them back. She was better than that for fuck’s sake. Nonetheless, she’d do her best to avoid you after that.

Preston:

Shock wouldn’t have even begun to describe what he felt. From the very moment you sat him down, a solemn look in your usually bright eyes..he knew something was wrong. Even then he wouldn’t have guessed that your next words would’ve been “We’re done..” The very moment he registered what you said he found himself fighting the glassy blur of tears obscuring his vision and threatening to spill. He wouldn’t allow it to happen though. Instead he’d just ask a shaky “why?”. No matter what answer you’d give him, it still wouldn’t help ease the painful ache he felt deep within his chest. Days turned to weeks, weeks even turned to months and he just couldn’t shake the pain you inflicted. So to help dull it, Preston would start indulging in drinking, submerging himself deep into minutemen work when he wasn’t drunk..in conclusion, the poor man was lost.

#fallout #fo4 companions #fallout companions #fallout 4 #paladin danse #curie #danse #macready #porter gage #piper wright #john hancock #old longfellow #hancock #maxson #elder maxson #gage #porter gage x sole #angst

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wonderlandleighleigh · 4 years

Text

Anidala Week Day 2: Canon Divergence

(Canon Divergence is pretty much all I do. So here’s a thing loosely set in the universe I play around in anyway. :) )

To save the Republic(’s approval ratings), Anakin and Padme have to get married.

Again.

“I’m not saying you have to.”

Padme lifts an unimpressed eyebrow at her friend, crossing her arms. “But you’re saying we should.”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Bail shrugs. As head of the Chancellatory committee, he’s had a lot of work to do, and not much of it makes him popular with anyone. “You can’t argue that there’s been a lot of distrust between the people and the Jedi Order...and the Senate and the Jedi Order...and the Jedi Order and the Jedi Order. It would make them seem like they could be normal people.”

“They’re not normal people,” Padme points out, taking a seat in Bail’s office. It feels strange to be able to move around again without feeling like there are two bowling balls in her stomach. Though she misses her babies terribly when she’s not with them at home, she’s glad for the freedom that not being pregnant gives her. “They’re Jedi. That’s always been the point.”

“A point that isn’t working anymore,” Bail tells her. “Obi-Wan being on the committee is a good start for repairing relations between the Jedi and the Senate, but a public display would make a bigger impression on the people of the Republic.”

“Bail, Anakin and I are already married,” Padme argues. “We’ve been married for years, and now we’re parents, and Anakin is still recovering from that fight with Palpetine. Between those things and my work, we don’t have the time.”

“So hire a wedding planner,” Bail shrugs. “Look, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from being married to the Queen of Alderaan, it’s that sometimes you do stupid, ridiculous things to make your people happy.”

“And you think that the stupid, ridiculous thing that I should do is have a very large, very expensive, very public wedding to the man I’m already married to, to show the people of the Republic that we’re all playing nice together,” Padme surmises.

“Exactly.” Bail sighs softly. “You’ve already had the intimate wedding you wanted to have.”

Padme huffs to herself. It hadn’t quite been what she’d always dreamed of, but…

“And the Senate and Jedi approval ratings are quite literally circling the drain,” Bail goes on. “If we’re not careful, all of us will lose our upcoming elections, which means that all the work we’ve done here so far has the potential to be completely undone. And a vote to remove the Jedi from government oversight wouldn’t be far behind, which means they would lose government support and funding. We have to at least try to give the people some sort of hope. Some sort of positive display that will restore their faith in the idea that we can all work together to clean up this terrible mess. And yes, a wedding is hokey. It’s obvious, it’s clearly a ploy. But it will be a popular ploy. Anakin is the most successful Jedi General of the Clone Wars; he rooted out the Sith Lord in our midst, and you are one of the most popular Senators among us. The people adore you. This is a PR goldmine.”

“It’s my life,” Padme reminds him. “One that, up until a month ago, was very private.”

“Well, you’re our only choice,” Bail says, sympathetically. “I’d ask Obi-Wan, but Jinn is already a year old, and no one likes Satine. Hell, they don’t even like Obi-Wan anymore, now that he’s on the committee instead of leading an army.”

“Not that he cares, which he shouldn’t,” Padme mutters. “He’s here to advise us. Not win popularity contests.”

“We work in politics, remember? It’s all a popularity contest.”

Padme sighs heavily. “So. I’m getting married. Again.”

Bail smiles at her. “Congratulations.”

*****

Anakin is visibly confused when she gets home that night. “What was wrong with our wedding?”

“Nothing,” Padme tells him quickly, taking his hands. “Our wedding was wonderful and beautiful. I got to wear my dream dress and you were so handsome, and sweet, and it was just for us. But…”

Anakin waits for her, still frowning. “But?”

“But...this...isn’t about us,” Padme goes on. “This is about restoring the faith of the people of the Republic. Of showing them that there is unity between the Senate and the Jedi.”

“There isn’t,” Anakin points out. “In fact, all there has been is finger pointing over who missed what sign that things were terrible. Mace got angry. I’ve never seen Mace angry. I thought he was going to slice off the heads of the entire committee. Including Obi-Wan.”

“Well, that was a bad day at work.”

“Angel, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but they’ve all been bad days at work.”

“Which is why we need to do this.”

Anakin sighs softly. “So you want us to get married again. In front of the entire galaxy.”

“It’ll be fun,” Padme insists. “We’ll get dressed up, we’ll eat cake...and we only got one night of a honeymoon, maybe we could take longer this time.”

“Between twin infants and your work schedule?”

“Why are you making this difficult?” Padme asks, starting to lose her patience.

Anakin pauses for a moment before speaking up. “Because our wedding, however small...however brief, was special to me. It was the most important day of my life, right along with the day the kids were born. I don’t need or want a do-over.”

Her heart melts as she sees the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh, Ani.”

He takes a breath and grins sheepishly. “Alright. Okay. If us re-getting-married is going to be the thing that unites everyone and brings peace to the galaxy, who am I to argue?” A rush of relief washes over her as she throws her arms around him. “Thank you. I promise I will make this as painless as possible.” ***** It is not painless. It is weeks of planning. Robe and gown fittings. Of tastings and flower arrangements and guest lists. “Well, the Council has agreed to come.” Anakin blinks owlishly. Padme sighs, a touch exasperated. “Ani, the entire point of this is to show unity between the Jedi and the Senate. I spoke with the Council last week, and they’ve agreed that they, along with other key members of the order will be there.” Anakin shakes his head as he changes Luke’s diaper, playing with his son’s feet absently. “Whatever you say, Angel.” “I know your relationship with them is a little strained…” “Yes.” Padme deflates a little, knowing that it’s taken a long time for Anakin to heal from his fight with Sidious, and that the Council nearly threw him out of the order anyway, for his marriage and children. “I should have spoken to you about this first. I thought you knew.” “It’s fine,” Anakin tells her. He takes a deep breath and turns to her. “After all, this isn't for us. This is for the Galaxy, right?” She nods, pursing her lips, and staying quiet. “And as long as I get to have Rex and the 501st there, it’s fine,” he says. It’s Padme’s turn to blink owlishly. “...Oh.” Anakin narrows his eyes. “You did invite my men to our wedding, didn’t you?” “I...may have...forgotten?” Before he can get truly upset, she holds up her hands. “I will fix this, right away, I promise, Anakin.” As she rushes out the door, she hears him call back “Invite the 212th, too!” Padme closes her eyes and takes a deep, cleansing breath. Between her work schedule, and this wedding planning, and trying to fit in Anakin and their children, her life has been a mess. Her husband has been a complete saint through most of this, taking care of the children, and putting quite a few of his Jedi responsibilities on hold, it’s hard to be mad at him when he acts like a bantha brain. But she will be completely glad when this is all over. ***** The day arrives without much fanfare. Since the ceremony is at night, (Mace Windu had been adamant about “On the steps of the Temple. The Senate needs to show it’s willing to actually meet the Jedi halfway, since we’re always coming to you.”), they have time for a quiet morning together. Padme feeds the twins as Anakin makes them breakfast, and she sighs contentedly as she listens to the nuna bacon fry under Anakin’s soft humming. “I want this forever,” she says wistfully, as she cuddles Leia. Anakin turns to her, cracking a grin. “Good thing we’re already married.” ***** It goes by much quicker than Padme had thought it would. Jar Jar performs the ceremony, which is strange, but it feels fitting, since he was there when they first met as children, and before they know it, he’s saying “I’sa now pronouncin’ you, husband and wife! Kiss her, Ani!” And Anakin does, tugging her close and kissing her eagerly, as if he’s been waiting to do this in front of the Senate and the Council and the Galaxy for years. He probably has, Padme thinks as she wraps her around around his neck, smiling against his lips. ***** The reception is enormous, and loud, and busy, and Padme is being pulled in all different directions, to be congratulated and kissed on the cheek and hugged, and the longer the party goes on, the drunker everyone seems to get. She knows she should be having a good time, but mostly, she wishes that she could have gone with Dorme and the twins back to their apartment. She would love to get out of this tight gown and rock her babies to sleep and then get a little work down before curling up with Anakin in bed. Padme supposes that she can do that tomorrow night. It takes her a while to find Anakin. They keep getting separated in all of the chaotic revelry, but she eventually finds him at a corner table with Rex, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Satine and Cody, watching all the party while nursing a drink. He beams at her when he sees her and when she gets close enough, he takes her hand and gently pulls her down onto his lap. “There you are.” Padme wraps her arms around his neck and instantly relaxes, surrounded by the people she knows well, a port in a storm. “I was busy making the rounds. Which you should be doing.” “Eh. Everybody knows where I am,” he shrugs, grinning at her. “Besides, nobody cares about the groom at a wedding. It’s all about the bride.” “I’d say congratulations, but since you’ve been married for years, it feels a bit silly,” Satine teases. “You said it,” Ahsoka pipes up. “I should have been in on that particular secret, by the way.” “No one was in on it,” Obi-Wan grouses. ‘Not even I knew.” “Er,” Rex says awkwardly. “Rex knew?!” Ahsoka cries. “Rex knew and I didn’t?!” “He didn’t know we were married,” Anakin snaps. “Just that we were together. And...talking regularly over holo comm during the war. That’s all.” “That’s all,” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “How are you any better?” Anakin asks, bewildered. “Jinn is a year older than the twins. I had no idea you and Satine were still seeing each other. You hid your baby from me, Ahsoka, and the Council for an entire year.” “We were at war!” “Hey, no fighting,” Ahsoka cuts in. “We don’t fight at weddings.” “We were already married,” Anakin points out. “And our first wedding was better.” Padme smiles and kisses Anakin’s temple. ***** When they finally make it home, it’s incredibly late. Anakin goes to check on the twins, who are fast asleep, and Padme closes the door to the guest room that Dorme is sleeping in, so as not to disturb her. She sighs softly and turns to Anakin, taking his hands. “Thank you, Ani. I know this wasn’t really what you wanted. But I appreciate that you went through with it.” “Well, now that it’s over, we can get back to some semblance of normalcy,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “Maybe we could take the twins to the park tomorrow.” She smiles and closes her eyes, pulling him close. “Yes. Let’s do that.”

#anidalaweek2020 #fic #au #anidala #padme amidala #anaikin skywalker

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lihikainanea · 4 years

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Tiger being in little space and doing something nice for Bill. Wether it’s getting him a gift or cooking him dinner for no reason. Maybe when he gets home and sees the gift he gently pushed her on the couch and maybe in return, he fingers her and makes her feel good. Whispering things like, “thank you, sweet girl. I love the gift and I absolutely adore you, thank you” while never breaking eye contact. Whispering sweet thank you’s until she’s shaking from pleasure. Just being all gentle and shit

Anonymous said: I’m so sorry for this but Bill finger fucking Tiger while wearing that nice ass watch because he KNOWS how crazy it makes her. He was confused by her attraction to it at first, but he’d be damned if he doesn’t use it to his advantage.

Oh god please I need just a moment to calm down all the delicious, insane thoughts running through my head right now.

INHALE. EXXXXXHHHHHAAAAAALE.

We talk a lot about the magic of Bill’s mouth, don’t we? We do. But that boy’s hands--oh my fuck, that boy’s hands.

Alright, so that watch Bill wears a lot? I’m pretty sure it’s IWC. IWC men’s watches, in general, retail for a cool $30,000-$40,000 USD for a base model, and that’s just....unf, that’s a lot of understated bling on that thick wrist. But maybe it’s an automatic which can be a little tricky sometimes, and when he was travelling he reset it to match the timezone he was in, but he reset it between 4AM and 7AM that day which actually kind of fucks up the mechanics on automatics (what? I love watches.) And since he’s been home, he’s been meaning to get it fixed but just really hasn’t had the time to find a licensed repair shop and his favourite watch has just been sitting there for like, a month.

And my girl tiger--listen, tiger loves his hands, his thick wrists. Loves the look of a real expensive watch on it. It’s a kink she hasn’t really told him about so maybe this is all a little selfish on her part.

But she nabs it one day, takes a day off work, and goes to get it fixed. And she hovers, stays at the repair shop and stares at the guy like a fucking hawk, because this is Bill’s favourite watch and it’s worth like, more money than tiger makes in a fucking year. But the dude is legit, he’s skilled, and in no time at all Bill’s favourite accessory is ticking like new. She brings it home, mildly paranoid to carry it in public for the 45 seconds it takes her to walk to her car.

Once she’s home she puts it back in its box, sets it up real nice on his pillow, and she doesn’t say a thing. And because she’s super soft for her big dude, a little extra sappy for him lately and she has the whole day off anyway, she goes shopping and gets all the fixings for his favourite dinner. He has some afternoon meetings that run a bit late so she has plenty of time, and she sets up in his kitchen to cook his favourite.

By the time he walks in she’s already a little tipsy, she’s in his shirt and just looks adorable, smiling big at him from the couch. His entire apartment smells delicious, and as he makes his way to her tiger’s heart skips a few beats. God he’s beautiful. In fitted jeans that accentuate just how long his legs are, a beautifully tailored cognac leather jacket around him, a t-shirt that dips into a bit of a V so she can see his collarbones...Bill is a masterpiece. Her best friend is so goddamn beautiful, and now he’s smiling his small lopsided grin at her as he toes his shoes off and makes his way to the couch.

“Hey kid,” he murmurs, and he crouches to put his hands on her legs, lean in and give her a sweet kiss, “It smells incredible in here.”

He smells incredible. Like soap and clean and comfort, and tiger reaches for his hand to thread her fingers with his--his hand is warm, just like she knew it would be.

“I made you dinner,” she mumbles, “Your favourite.”

And something about the way he’s looking at her makes her blush. Bill has that knack, that talent of focusing on you so that you feel like you’re the only person in the universe who matters. He smiles gently at her, and her cheeks heat up even more.

“I’m so spoiled,” he scratches lightly at her thighs, “Thank you.”

Another soft kiss, one that tigers pulls him back into for more.

“I’ll make you a drink,” she says. She doesn’t ask what. After a full day of meetings, Bill always likes something strong--a boulevardier, a negroni, something hard hitting. He always insists that tiger makes the best drinks, ones that could knock a man dead, and he never refuses whatever she mixes up.

He stands, stealing a kiss from her when she does too, then retreats to the bedroom. She smiles to herself, walking to the bar cart as she waits for him to see what’s on the bed.

She busies herself with mixing his drink, even when she hears his footsteps approaching. She doesn’t jump when she feels his arms loop around her, his hands held out in front of her, holding the watch. He tilts his head, nuzzling her ear as she shivers.

“It’s working again,” he purrs, turning the watch over in his hands.

“I um,” she can’t stop the shudder running through her as she feels his hot breath on her ear, “I got it fixed for you.

She muddles a sugar cube in the glass, adding a dash of bitters. She grabs a bottle of rye, pouring a hefty glug--measuring is for idiots--into the glass.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he murmurs. She bites her lip, adds some Campari to the drink and grabs a stirrer. His hands still in front of her, she has to stop the whimper from escaping when he rests the watch on his wrist, turning it over to latch it. Those fingers, long and slender and beautiful working deftly around the small clasp. She holds the drink up to him when he’s done, and he brushes his fingers with hers as he grabs the glass, turning her gently to face him.

“Thank you,” he says, taking a sip, “And thank you.”

She blushes, just under the intensity of his stare. He leans down to kiss her again--slow and languid and passionate--and she can taste the whisky on him.

He pulls away and grabs her hand, leading her to the couch and coaxing her to sit. She does, but he kneels in front of her. He reaches for the waistband of her pants, hooking his fingers in and dragging them down slowly. She wants to ask what he’s doing, but she’s already pretty fucking small for him and she just wants him to call all the shots. Every last one. It doesn’t even matter what he’s doing, because she wants it done to her regardless.

“You spoil me, sweet girl,” he purrs, and you know, the thing with Bill is the attention to detail. He knows tiger really likes it when he takes her panties off--loves the feeling of it, the visual of it, so he doesn’t drag them off with her pants. He leaves it separate, because why rush things?

He moves her legs further apart, gazing up at her as he places a kiss on her mound. Hooking his thumbs into the sides, he slowly drags her panties down her legs and off. He pauses, takes another slow swig of his drink as he stares at her.

“This was so nice of you, tiger,” he says, and he uses his left hand to slide up her thigh--the cool metal clasp a contrast to his warm fingers, as he trails them to her core. She gasps as he runs two fingers gently up and down her slit, enjoying the wetness on his fingers. He lifts his glass to his lips again, before leaning over and licking the soft part of her belly under her navel. His other hand wraps around her ankle, bending one of her knees and putting her foot on the cushion.

“Better view, this way,” he winks, and she can feel the heat start to creep up her cheeks--but it’s gone a second later, her focus switching back to the gentle circles his thumb is pressing into her clit.

“I love this watch,” he continues, another slow sip of his drink, “I think it looks pretty good on my wrist, don’t you?”

Tiger can’t speak, letting out just a small squeak as he slowly pushes two fingers inside. She sighs, quivering, as he crooks them and drags against that spot deep inside her.

He leans forward, nipping at her lips and capturing them in a searing kiss.

“Look at it, kid,” he coaxes, pressing on her chin with his thumb so she’s looking down. She watches his fingers, glistening with her slick, as then pump slowly in and out of her--the watch on his wrist, the thick leather band and the shiny metal of the clasp. If she listens real close, if she can hear beyond the filthy sounds his fingers are making as they push back into her--she can almost hear it tick.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he whispers against her lips. She’s beyond the point where she can talk--so instead he reaches back, sucks back some of his drink into his mouth, and then forcefully crushes her lips to his. He fists the back of her hair in his hand and tiger is suddenly so tuned in to everything--the taste of rye and cigarettes on his tongue, every knuckle and groove of his fingers as they keep up their slow torture, the ticking mechanics of his beautiful timepiece. She can hear and smell and feel it all, as her lower stomach clenches.

He leans back, enjoying the show of his fingers coated with her wetness. He drives them in deep, speeding up his pace as his thumb reaches for her clit. He rubs it in circles, softer at first but building the pressure as he can feel her clench around his fingers. She whimpers, reaching for something to hold on to and he gently pushes two fingers into her mouth. She moans, grabbing at his forearm between her legs to make sure he doesn’t stop--and with a loud whimper, a big heaving shudder, she comes. He feels her clenching around his hand, squeezing his fingers as she bites down on the ones in her mouth, before she eventually just goes limp against the couch. He grins softly at her, kissing her stomach before downing the rest of his drink in one shot. he pulls his fingers from her slowly, leaving the ones in her mouth and kissing her lips gently.

fuCK we have a watch kink.

#bill skarsgard #BFF!Bill #sub tiger #bill skarsgard drabble

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ezzydean · 3 years

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barycenter

for @notsuchasecret

CLICK HERE TO READ ON MY BLOG INSTEAD OF THE DASH

5+1? Nah. 8+1

8 times a friend cared for/comforted Rei and 1 time he comforted a friend.

(barycenter: the common center of mass around which two or more bodies revolve)

Nagisa It’s been a long day. One of the longest he’s had in years. And somehow he still has hours and hours left of it. The math of the day just isn’t adding up but he honestly can’t be bothered to figure out just how the last two hours have actually managed to last approximately fifteen years. Or maybe it’s the last fifteen years that have actually lasted two hours. He’s not even sure which way it should go.

Not much makes sense today.

He’s pressing his fingertips against his eyes, glasses abandoned on the table about twenty minutes past half a year ago, when he hears soft footsteps padding down the hallway towards him.

“Oh, Rei-chan,” Nagisa breathes out.

Then there’s cool fingers running through his hair and a warm body settling into his lap and the smell of Nagisa’s apple scented body wash filling the air between them and it really says something about his day that he doesn’t even attempt to flail, flounder, or protest Nagisa invading his space in any way, shape, or form.

He tips his head forward, nose resting against Nagisa’s collarbone, and wraps his arms around Nagisa’s waist.

Sometime between a half hour and nine years later he relaxes with a shuddering breath and Nagisa hums softly.

“Next time call me before it gets this bad,” Nagisa murmurs.

Rei nods in agreement even though they both know he’s far too stubborn and sometime in the next seventy-whatever month-hours Nagisa will pad down the hallway and spot Rei bent over the table, too tired to function anything remotely close to properly. But that’s okay. Because when he does Nagisa will pull him apart so gently and help put him back together with gentle fingers and bright smiles.

Rin “Hey.” A warm body drops into the booth next to him.

“Hello, Rin,” he replies politely.

“What’s eating you?”

He glances over and meets Rin’s curious gaze for only a moment before he goes back to staring blankly at the menu sitting on the table in front of him.

“Nothing.”

Rin scoffs. “Forgive me if I don’t believe that,” he says. He snatches the menu and grumbles about the ridiculous prices and the silly names and other stuff that Rei barely listens to. He listens to the rise and fall of Rin’s voice. He catches the easy shrugs and hand gestures as he rambles. He feels the way Rin leans against him to half-whisper something to him and then just never quite sits all the way back up.

He simply exists for a little while and lets Rin pull him along in his wake.

By the time the others join him he feels less untethered, less ready to float away at a moment’s notice, and he presses his shoulder against Rin’s in silent thanks. Rin grins a ‘you’re welcome’ in return.

Makoto Sometimes he just gets so incredibly, unreasonably, unfairly cold. When it’s the middle of winter and there’s snow on the ground he can understand it. But in the tail end of summer when the sun is high in the sky and the ground itself seems to throw off heat it’s a little ridiculous.

But ridiculous or not here he is, sitting on the beach and watching his friends chase each other around and laugh and have fun while he sits in the sun and shivers.

A shadow looms over him and Rei leans his head back. Makoto smiles down at him and gestures to the ground next to him.

“May I?” Rei nods with a slight smile of his own. Leave it to Makoto to ask permission before sitting next to him on the beach when they had been squished together in Sousuke’s frightening excuse for a vehicle less than an hour ago.

They sit shoulder to shoulder and watch as Rin and Momo attempt to pull Haru under the water while Gou and Seijuurou egg them on. He’s not entirely sure where Ai and Nagisa have gotten off to but the last he saw of them they had their heads bent together, laughing as they clearly planned something.

A shudder runs through him and he huffs in irritation.

“You know,” Makoto says suddenly. “It still takes me awhile sometimes.” Rei makes a questioning noise. “To get in the water. To be comfortable enough to remember that especially with everyone else here I’m safe.”

“It’s not really that,” Rei says. “I just get so cold sometimes.”

Makoto shrugs. “The water isn’t the only thing they keep me safe from,” he says as Haru dramatically pops up in the water, sending Rin and Momo swimming away from him as fast as possible.

Rei scoots a little bit closer until Makoto laughs and wraps his arm around Rei’s shoulder, pulling him tight against his side and Rei sinks into the warmth and refuses to move even when Rin stumbles up to them a few minutes later and flops across them, soaking them both.

Gou “For someone so smart,” Gou says as she tucks the blankets up around his shoulders, “you’re pretty stupid sometimes.”

Rei does his best to pout at her. Not that it really does much. He doesn’t have Nagisa or Ai’s puppy dog eyes and even if he did he’s pretty sure Gou wouldn’t be swayed by them.

“Not like I was trying to catch Haru’s cold,” he mumbles. At least that’s what he tries to say. He’s not sure how much of it comes out the way it’s supposed to. The fond look Gou gives him really doesn’t help him figure out if the words all came out in the right order or not.

His everything hurts.

“You’re lucky you’re adorable. And my mom loves you so she sent over soup and gave me a list of stuff to buy for you. Even though I’m pretty sure by now I know how to handle a stupid boy getting a stupid cold.”

“I am lucky,” he rasps out.

Gou smiles and brushes some of his sweaty hair from his clammy forehead.

“Yeah. But I suppose we’re lucky to have someone like you too. So we’re all pretty even in the end.”

Sousuke Logically he knows that he’s lucky they caught it this soon. That he’s here mostly for prevention and not for rehab. It still doesn’t stop his hands from shaking ever so much as he makes his way into the clinic for his third appointment for his shoulder.

“Rei?” Somehow the thought never occurred to him that this might be the same clinic that Sousuke visits for his own shoulder.

His hands shake even more and he curls his fingers until they’re clenched fists hanging at his sides. He tenses his jaw and refuses to let himself give in to the tears that suddenly try to overwhelm him.

Sousuke glances over his shoulder. “Hey Ayame,” he calls out. “Ryuugazaki is here for his appointment but we’re gonna go for a quick walk beforehand okay?”

He doesn’t look at the receptionist, a lady who has the kindest eyes Rei has ever seen in his life, doesn’t listen to whatever she says to Sousuke in reply. He just lets Sousuke settle his hand in the middle of Rei’s shoulders and guide him carefully outside.

“I get it,” Sousuke says eventually. They’re about three blocks from the clinic and Sousuke’s hand is warm where it’s still resting between Rei’s shoulder blades. “It’s a lot and it’s kinda frightening. Especially since we’re, you know, not creaky old men. We’ve still got a lot ahead of us. People like you and me we’ve gotta be careful.”

He could be talking about their shoulders. But Rei is pretty sure Sousuke is talking about something far more internal. Something far easier to bust and something that is much, much harder to repair when it does. He nods and takes one last deep breath before they turn and head back to the clinic.

He’s not even remotely surprised when Sousuke is sprawled in the waiting room flipping through a magazine when Rei finally finishes his appointment.

Momotarou Some days you just can’t win. His bag strap broke this morning. He stepped in a puddle less than five minutes after leaving. He dropped his glasses and scratched the lenses. He forgot his lunch on the counter and he’s pretty sure his stomach is trying to eat itself even though it is physically impossible to do so. And now he’s sitting up with a wince and glaring down at the rather impressive scrape he now has on his arm. Because of course his shoes came untied without him noticing until he literally tipped over his own feet.

A hand appears in front of his face and he tilts his head up until he sees a familiar face.

“Come on,” Momotarou says with a friendly smile. “My place is just a few blocks away. We’ll get you cleaned up.”

He can do it himself. His own place is only a few blocks in the other direction. But he lets Momotarou pull him up by his uninjured hand and tug him down the block and lead him to his apartment and push him into the bathroom. The first aid kit Momotarou pulls out is extremely well stocked and Momotarou laughs when he sees the look on Rei’s face.

“Yeah. I’m not the most graceful of people out of the water,” he explains as he wets a cloth and gently wipes at Rei’s arm. “So when I moved out on my own my parents bought me a good first aid kit and then my brother and sister both bought me extra supplies.”

Rei simply nods and lets Momotarou clean his arm and carefully apply antibiotic to it.

“Something wrong?” Momotarou is staring at his arm with a frown.

“No. I just don’t know if I have a bandage big enough to cover the whole thing and I don’t want you to rub it on something on accident.”

Rei glances down at the scrape. “Then give me two bandages,” he says. “Or wrap it in some gauze. It shouldn’t take long to start scabbing up a bit.” Momotarou’s eyes dart from the scrape to the first aid kit to Rei’s face and back again. “If it’ll make you feel better I’ll even stay here a bit before going back outside.”

Momotarou scrunches his face and then nods. “I think that sounds okay.”

“Thank you, by the way,” Rei remembers to say as Momotarou loosely wraps a piece of gauze around his arm. Momotarou grins at him, accepting the thanks with a wink.

Seijuurou “You’re never going to be perfect. None of us are.” The words are surprisingly comforting. Or maybe it’s Seijuurou’s hand warm on his knee as he talks Rei back from the edge of a potentially epic meltdown. “You’re never going to be Tachibana but that’s okay.”

The captaincy had been weighing heavy on his mind and even heavier on his shoulders and instead of giving into the temptation of letting it boil over into frustration and irritation and taking it out on the others Rei had cut practice short and started walking. He’s not quite sure where he is or why the former Samezuka captain was there but he was thankful just the same because Seijuurou had taken one look at him and led him down a sidewalk to a bench, sat him down, and started talking.

About his own blunders as captain. About his rambunctious teammates. About not only training and going to school with his teammates but living with them as well. About how he learned the hard way that he could count on his team to support him.

“You have a good team and, more importantly, good friends. Let them help you. Lean on them if you need to. Hell you have my number still right?” Rei nods absently. “Give me a call if you need. Or call Tachibana. I know I’d be more than happy to help and I’m sure he would too. Just remember. They’re your team now. You’ve gotta figure out what works for you.”

He sits there and lets Seijuurou talk and talk and talk. He does wonder, briefly, when he started being acquaintances with so many talkative people and then promptly pushes the thought aside because he knows exactly when. It was when he joined the swim team.

It was when he made the choice to change his entire life by stepping out of his comfort zone without looking for a net to catch him should he stumble.

Aiichirou They’ve exhausted all their usual topics — classes, their teams, their last meets, their current training regimens — and are simply listening to each other breathe through the phone. He hadn’t expected to find such a close friend in Aiichirou when they had exchanged numbers. Though he probably should have. They both had such big shoes to fill, such amazing captains to follow with their own captaincy, it’s not really that much of a surprise in the end.

“I just don’t know for sure,” he finds himself admitting, breaking the silence.

“About what?”

“Anything,” he says before he can talk himself out of it. “University. Getting a job. Even graduating high school feels a little bit daunting right now if I’m being honest.”

Aiichirou laughs tiredly. “I hear you on that. I’m still not sure if I want to keep swimming competitively in university. I love swimming but, yeah. I just don’t know.”

It’s refreshing to hear it from someone else. Someone who has been dealing with a lot of the same responsibilities and pressure as he has. Trying to balance being a captain on top of school work on top of maintaining friendships.

“But,” Aiichirou interrupts his thoughts before they can wind him up they way he was before he called. “But. It’s okay. Because we’ve got everyone. And it’s okay if we don’t know what we’re doing yet so long as we keep on moving.”

Rei lets the words rattle around in his head for a few minutes, once again listening to Aiichirou breathing, before the words really sink in.

“Have you been reading Nagisa’s inspirational quote of the day texts again?”

Aiichirou laughs and starts talking about the quote Nagisa sent him last week and Rei smiles.

They’ll all figure it out in the end. Because they’ll get there together.

+1 Haruka It’s not unusual to open Haru’s door and find all the lights out and a general feeling of almost abandoned floating through the air. Haru has lived in the same place for years and years but it just always has a semi-permanent feel to it. Like he’s just waiting to pack up and leave it all behind.

Rei has never really been able to understand it. Heck he’s lived in a dozen different places in the last five years and even the shittiest, most temporary apartment felt more lived in than Haru’s place.

Maybe it’s just the dust accumulating on every flat surface because Haru hates cleaning that gives it that feeling. But Rei really doesn’t think that’s it.

Haru lets out a huffy little noise when Rei prods at him with his foot; he’s never understood how Haru manages to fall asleep in the middle of the floor without even a blanket or pillow.

“You know,” Rei says, “it’s okay to stay. To make this place yours.”

“It is mine,” Haru mutters.

“Then get rid of your parents’ ugly tapestry on the wall and put up one of your paintings and stop simply existing here.”

It’s harsh, harsher than he’d usually be with any of his friends, but Haru has always brought out something in him — something a little more raw and fierce and possessive — than any of the rest of them.

Haru scoffs softly but he also reaches out and wraps a cool hand around Rei’s ankle, thumb rubbing gently over the skin, as he considers Rei’s words.

“You’re right,” Haru says eventually, voice tiny in the darkness.

“I usually am,” Rei replies.

“I don’t want to pick the painting though.”

“We’ll pick one for you. It’s what friends are for.”

#free!#free! writing #ryuugazaki rei

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