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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

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indulge me

indulge me: an arrangement

— Being a secret little girl in the modern world is rough, but it becomes much more chaotic when a classmate of yours offers to be your new daddy dom.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, nsfw, ddlg dynamic, college!au, modern!au, daddy!shouto, little girl!reader, I am not well versed in this dynamic please do not use this as an educational source, dom!shouto, sub!reader, biting, marking, mating press, nipple play (both), spanking, oral, gagging, choking, praise, degradation, little space

word count: 13,547

a/n: this is a commission for @bakusbiatch thank you for your endless amount fo patience as it took me 100x longer than ever to write this

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If there was something you knew now that you completely did not understand at the age of eighteen was the entire dynamics of sex. To be fair, after an adolescence of watching porn, reading erotica, and even gossiping between friends, it was, without doubt, that you were entirely clueless about real, healthy dynamics.

First off, the first time you had sex was super uncomfortable.

There was no break or even space for pleasure to build in because you had been so tense, so awkward that you remained rigid and still the entire three minutes the guy fucked into you. You remember his sweat-soaked body collapsing on top of you, his eyes seeing galaxies in the stuffy, now smelly room as he breathed out a ‘Woah.’

You had smiled at him stiffly, letting his softening dick flop out of your dry vagina and curled in on yourself as he snuggled into you, praising the world and everything around it for this moment. It was without saying that you left his cum stained sheets and ran back home.

Sex sucked.

But that was when you were seventeen and made the terrible decision on fucking your friend with whom you had scary sexual tension. You avoided sex to your best ability after that, not so much as caring to allow anyone to touch you because that was disappointing. Why would you go through that when your fingers sufficed much better? Why go through that awkward tension when you didn’t have any moments of awkwardness when reading smut?!

Audios were better.

Words were best.

But, as one does, you fell in love against your will to a boy just a few months older than you. His smile was soft, and his words were kind, but oh, did his touch drive you hot and mad. You weren’t exactly sure how long you had lasted, how much perseverance you had kept when the two of you would fall onto his (thank fucking god) clean sheets, his strong hands and fingers keeping your hips close to his as you kissed him as if you couldn’t live without his touch.

“Are you… are you ready?” he had asked, his shirt thrown into the abyss of his room and the button of your jeans undone, revealing the simple set of panties you had on. “I don’t want to—”

“I’m ready,” you interrupt him, your body practically burning from the inside out with the desperate need and lust for him to fuck you. “I’m ready.”

He stills, his tongue peeking past his lips before a slow, chilling grin spreads against his mouth.

“Okay,” he nods, “can I ask you to do something, though?”

You, in your desperation to get his dick out of his sweats and buried deep into your throbbing cunt, nod.

“I have a daddy kink… I really, really like the daddy little girl dynamics,” he breathes, palms pressing to your knees and dragging down your inner thighs in a teasing, near authoritative way. “Can we… are you interested in trying it?”

Now, although you had largely avoided sex, toys and fingers weren’t nearly enough to replace the overwhelming need to be touched, fucked, and worshipped by another human being. You had fucked plenty of people who had always claimed to have kinks and fetishes. Most of the men you had in bed who said they had a daddy kink only liked being addressed as daddy; that was it. There was no true dynamic, just a play on the power the title brought them.

So, in the naive, childish way you were, you agreed.

You listened to his every command in bed, thrilled and keened under his praise for his princess, for his little girl, and you ate it up, thanking and praising your daddy. The sex ended with you cumming so hard you went blind for a moment, so dizzy from your high. As the both of you drifted off to sleep, you had no clue when you woke up in the morning he would present you with a little girl starter package made by him for you specifically. It was then that you realized that dynamics were an actual thing, and as he presented you a checklist of kinks, toys, and rules he laid out, you realized that nothing you had ever experienced — real or fictional — could have prepared you for this.

The two of you went through the list and rules together, your eyes widening and face blazing with embarrassment as he described his expectations and needs with this dynamic. You nodded, so completely lost in this entire thing that you agreed with most everything he offered and wanted.

The one rule you did have didn’t necessarily surprise him.

The dynamic was to remain a secret, you asserted, unable to budge on this thought. You could be his little girl, but it was to stay in private, never in public. And he tilted his head in thought but ultimately agreed with a smile. He thought you��d one day stop being in the closet over this kink, and you thought the opposite.

And time moves forward; it’s rigid and unforgiving. Two years into a relationship, a year and a half into the dynamic, you and your daddy break up, and you, against all odds, are left scrambling for a daddy you never realized you needed.

What was a girl to do?

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Your head is angled downward, and the hood that sits on your head is not concealing your face as well as you would have liked. It was without saying that you were a woman of pride. You took great care of what you did, how people viewed you, and how you presented yourself to the world. Most days, you always exited your small apartment as an excellent student who was always wearing properly done makeup and stylish outfits.

Your style screamed confident woman (not little girl, you absolutely refused to wear anything cutesy in public), and you walked with your chin raised and eyes on the horizon.

To see that you were in sweats, an oversized hoodie, no makeup on, and perusing the store's area made for young girls and toddlers, was a shock. You had made sure to come nearly thirty minutes before closing; no one would be here to accidentally see you, no one could see you in your embarrassing shame-picking for your dynamic. All because your newest daddy couldn’t afford to buy you new things since your old ones had your ex’s name or brand all over it.

This was for the best; you reminded yourself as you haphazardly threw the items within the basket, face flaming as you ignored the temptation to simply stand in the aisle and flip through the sticker book and coloring book you recently tossed into the cart. You were fine; you already had your plan of action on what to say when purchasing these items.

‘My sister is pregnant again, and she already has a kid,’ you mentally rehearsed, imagining an excited smile on your face because you are excited for this imaginary pregnant sister of yours. ‘It’s a present for the baby and the brat.’

Solid.

Perfect.

Beautiful.

Making sure to quickly take note of what was inside the basket, you spun on your heel and marched your way through the empty store to the deserted register.

You kept your head down as you placed the basket on the conveyor belt, easy peasy, you would be fine!

“Found everything you were looking for?” a voice asks, piercing through your mental rehearsal just in case you got questions.

You blink, head raising up, exposing your face to the person behind the register.

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

Checking things out at the register wasn’t supposed to be all that embarrassing. I mean, what could top having to buy pads and tampons from a creepy, greasy old man during your very first period ever?! But you had to admit seeing a familiar face behind the register as he began to scan the items in your cart kinda made it a big deal.

Todoroki Shouto read his name tag, and ‘TODOROKI SHOUTO?!’ screamed your heart.

Oh, how to describe Todoroki Shouto, well you didn’t even know where to begin.

Shouto was one thousand percent a supermodel that has yet to be recruited. He could probably be a top star athlete, good enough to go overseas if he wanted. He was a genius. Someone who was somehow friends with everyone he came across even though he was a man of few words.

He stood tall behind the register, the tight black high collared shirt sitting beneath a light blue opened dress shirt. His distinctive red and white slightly wavy hair — all-natural, you believe — pushed back in a way that you would bet to hell and back that he had run his fingers through it. For the past three years in university, you had more than a few classes with this stunning man. You two shared the same major, and he often sat at the back of the classroom, but you were nearly hyperaware of everything he did because his voice was liquid honey and sex and everything that was —

“You can let go of the basket,” Shouto cut through your thoughts, and you gasped loudly, suddenly realizing that you had zoned out thinking about him.

Your hand lets go of the basket, and you slap your sweater-covered hands over your mouth; horror strikes through you like a blazing sword. You weren’t wearing makeup, you were in trash clothes, and you were in front of a man you had lusting feelings over!

NO!

“Sorry!” you squeak, your heart and bile rising up your throat at alarming rates as Shouto merely smiles at you in understanding. “This is all stuff for my sister!”

Shouto blinks, his head tilting to the side as he scans a sippy cup.

“Your sister’s quite young,” he remarks easily, trying not to make you feel stupider—probably.

Tell the lie, y/n, you chide yourself as you shift your weight.

“Ah, well, not actually my sister,” you explain, fingers scratching against your scalp. “My sister is pregnant r-right now, and she already has a little one, so I thought that this would be a good… present?”

Nailed it.

Shouto’s eyebrows quirk, a small smile spreading across his face as he scans the plush doll.

“That’s very kind of you; you must have a good relationship with your sister.”

“O-Oh yeah, we’re very close.”

“And would you say that this is something appropriate to give to a pregnant family member and their child?”

You froze and looked down at the items you had hastily thrown into the basket.

It was a pacifier, sippy cup, baby blanket, choker, coloring books, stuffed animal, candy, and stickers.

You choked, feeling heat exploding in your cheeks all over again; absolutely not. This was not something to give to a pregnant woman.

“My sister is pregnant,” Shouto explains, definitely sensing your poorly concealed stress, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m the youngest of my siblings, so I don’t really know what to buy her.”

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

Shouto blinked, and before you could start screaming apologies over your rudeness, he began laughing loudly. Your face continued to burn in your utter humiliation and shame, but Shouto only found amusement in this all as he began to place your items away in a bag.

“What are your recommendations then?” Shouto finally asked, his lips pulled back into an easy, teasing grin. “And that’ll be forty-eight seventy-three.”

You shoved your card into the chip scanner immediately, your gaze everywhere but on him.

“I think you should get whatever your sister wants or still needs,” you quickly say, eyes now focusing on the Approved message on the machine. “Every person is different.”

“I suppose,” Shouto agrees, his arms crossing against his chest, and you have to resist the temptation to ogle at the way his muscles become sinfully pronounced. “Well, I won’t hold you up. See you in lecture tomorrow, y/l/n.”

“Bye!” you squawk, grabbing your bag and racing out.

His eyes burn into your back the entire rush out of the store, but you find that you can’t seem to worry about that. You’re much more elated and somehow horrified at the realization that he knew exactly who you were.

Step zero of who knows how many to get Todoroki Shouto to fall in love with you, complete!

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“So, about the upcoming paper assignment, I’m sure you’re all eager to get started on,” your professor’s voice boomed throughout the lecture hall, his arms folding across his chest as he leans against the podium with an easy grin. “I decided that I would be nice and allow for some partnering up!”

Your eyes widened as excited murmurs exploded through the classroom.

Partners for a ten-page paper? You were going to thank god almighty.

But, at the same time, you frowned. This was a class where you didn’t exactly know anyone. It was a course outside of your own major, and with your usual friends not in this class, you knew that you were going to have to go out of your way to find a partner. You withered a bit in your chair, not entirely on board with that train of thought.

“There are an uneven amount of you guys in the class, though,” your professor continued, still sporting that easy grin on his face. “And I decided that instead of having too many groups of three, and because I was so nice to allow partner work, I decided to make the partners. Look at the pinned paper at the door for your partner or partners for the group of three! No, I will not allow trades, and no, I will not allow complaining! Be grateful!”

Hopeful and exasperated murmurs sounded through the room as the professor dismissed the class and frantic movement followed after. Even as old as they were, everyone was desperate and eager to see who a random generator assigned them to. Packing up swiftly, you threw your bag over your shoulder and began walking towards the list.

You wonder who you were gonna get.

“Y/l/n,” a voice spoke softly, lowly by your ear.

You whipped around — one part startled, a second part curious — and came to see Todoroki Shouto standing slightly behind you. His gaze was at the wall for a moment, dropping only when you were looking up at him. He smiles slowly, and you feel your chest tighten.

Oh boy.

“Todoroki,” you smile, attempting to relax completely in front of him. “Any hopes as to who’s your partner?”

“Well, as long as it isn’t Sero, I think it’ll be okay,” Shouto’s eyes crinkle with his deepened smile. “Last time I did a paper with him, we did it completely high—” you choke, eyes widening at the thought of trying to be eloquent enough to write a paper while high. “—It was terrible.”

“Oh, I bet,” you laugh, arms crossing across your chest as the two of you begin inching forward within the crowd, others leaving with proud laughs, curious frowns, or aggravated groans. “But at least it sounds like it was turned in?”

“It was,” Shouto nods, his teeth flashing as he finally tears his gaze from you. “Oh, would you look at that?”

You hum, eyes squinting as you try to read the list through the many heads before you.

Y/l/n, Todoroki S.

“Would you look at that.”

“Seems like we’re partners,” you laugh, relief and horror flooding your body.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

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So, it was decided that with the two weeks given to write the paper and taking Shouto’s job into account, this paper was to be written as soon as possible. The suggestion of working on it together in the same room and not just through google doc was brought up and agreed upon. So with consensus on that, the matter of where it was going to happen was brought up.

“We can do it at my place,” Shouto offered with a shrug, “my house is pretty big.”

“I don’t have a car,” you interject, a frown on your face — you wanted to see his house. “My apartment is five minutes from campus. Is that alright?”

A smile.

“That’s perfect.”

And so, on a Friday afternoon, you found yourself already apologizing profusely as you walked up the staircase that smelled just a tiny bit of cheese. You warned him about the mess of your apartment. About how not to judge you on any and all messes you might have made on your way out! That you would have cleaned up had you known this was happening!

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Shouto spoke, attempting to ease your anxiety as you push your key in the doorknob and turn it. “I really don’t mind a messy place.”

“Ha, well, this is it,” you say, your face feeling disgustingly warm as you breach the entrance to your small one bedroom one bathroom place. “Leave your shoes right there, and we can head in!”

Toeing off your own shoes, you scrambled into the apartment, eyes wide as you attempted to make sure that nothing was crazily messy or out of place. There wasn’t any dirty laundry or undergarments anywhere? No, good!

Shouto locks the door behind himself, a chuckle at the back of his throat vibrating in his chest as he watches you skirt about. He looks down at the shoes you were wearing, white sneakers, and smirks at how small they look compared to his. He never really thought he was that tall or big, to be honest. It was a decent size for someone from his family, but it amused him greatly to see his things pushed against yours.

He looked back up, eyes landing on your flustered face as you stood by a table in the kitchen area.

“Ready?” he asked, hands shoving into his pockets.

“I believe so!”

And for some reason, probably the very same reason that had him entranced by you, Shouto laughs and steps foot into your apartment.

The paper itself isn’t that hard.

It’s an argumentative piece mostly on a Green Act proposal that was currently being debated within the government body. A paper that was fifty percent argument was something you were elated to have, but the other fifty percent was using sources and articles to further back your point. It was now two hours into the paper writing, takeout filling the empty spaces between the table as Shouto’s laughter and your ranting filled the open air. It was nice; he was nice to hang out with.

“I’m just saying we are nearing a universal climate disaster, and I do not want to be wondering when I will die because some fat old men with huge wallets want to continue getting richer!” you yelled, your chest heaving with your lack of proper air. “It’s dumb!”

“I bet if you grabbed ahold of their favorite toupees, they’d fold and agree,” Shouto teases, his grin covered by the mug he’s currently drinking tea from. “I’ll bail you out of prison.”

“I wouldn’t go to prison for that,” you argue, arms folding across your chest as you shake your head in solemn understanding. “They’d murder me and make it look like an accident.”

“Dark.”

“You know it.”

“I’ll avenge you.”

“You better, or else I’ll blame you for my murder.”

Shouto’s jaw dropped, ready to retaliate with something else, but he was interrupted by a loud call from your phone. You frowned, head tilting as you pulled your phone out from your jean pocket and stared at the screen.

Incoming call from: dd.

“I have to take this,” you say apologetically, standing up as you answered the call. You waited until you were in your bedroom before placing the phone to your head, your heart hammering with the unknown. “Hello?”

Shouto heard the click of your bedroom door, and he sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, momentarily bored now that he wasn’t with you. He wondered who ‘dd’ was and if you were alright. He hoped it wasn’t anything serious.

Grabbing his water cup, Shouto frowned, seeing that it was empty. He looked over at the sink where you had initially filled up the water cups. You wouldn’t mind if he filled it up on his own, right? Shouto pushed back his chair and stood, the cup resting in his fingers as he walked over towards the sink with a light hum.

He filled the cup slowly, not wanting to make too much noise. But as he stared at the drying dishes on your dish holder, he frowned at the sight of the pink sippy cup you had bought from the store last week. It was cleaned, obviously used, and he tilted his head.

Weird.

The cupboard was open, and Shouto couldn’t help but look into the dark wood and startled once again when he took in the neatly folded bib and the nearly innocuous pacifier sitting on top of it. Untouched, undisturbed, but used — definitely used.

Frowning, he took a slow, long drink of his water as he stared out towards the small living room you had. There, sitting on the wood coffee table, was the coloring book you had also purchased. That wasn’t adding up… if they were for your sister’s kids, why were they here? It didn’t exactly seem like the place to be holding them.

Shouto thought, trying to figure out just why you had all these things for… well, children.

Was testing products on your own a thing people did?

Well, yes, he supposed so, but these were already licensed products. The coloring book, well, he guesses that was a pretty normal thing! Drawing and coloring were everyday stress relieves — his mother often used that to help herself. But a pacifier, a bip, and a sippy cup? The only thing he could rationalize with that was—

“You’re being fucking ridiculous, daddy!” your voice harshly whispered (maybe ridiculed and mocked) from your room, just loud enough that Shouto heard, and his eyes widened.

Oh.

Ohh fuck.

“You know what, this isn’t working,” you scoff, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you roll your eyes to the heavens above. “This was a good trial run, but I’m going to have to end this. This is not what I was looking for.”

“Come on, brat, you know you don’t mean that—”

You hung up, your fingers curled in a fist as you growled lowly at the screen. You wasted no time in blocking the number. What a fucking terrible daddy he was. Didn’t buy you anything, didn’t support you, or help you. There was no dynamic in this relationship. It was just a power-hungry dom with a streak for being called daddy.

A fucking poser at best.

Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone onto your bed and walked out of your room back to the main area of your place. You looked at Shouto, who was sitting in his chair, his face bored, maybe a bit tired, and his face was concentrated on his phone — he was idly scrolling through it.

“Sorry that took so long,” you apologize, slinking back onto your chair, hands rubbing your face. “I tried to be fast about that.”

Shouto peered past the top of his phone, a comforting smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it; it wasn’t like we were intensely working on the paper anyways.”

You smile, slightly embarrassed.

“That’s true, um—”

“I think it’s time—”

The both of you spoke over each other clumsily, awkwardly — both of you obviously thinking of something that wasn’t quite in front of you. Your smile feels less forced now, “we’re done for the day?”

Shouto shifts in his chair, his head dropping slightly in agreement, “I think that would be best. We did a lot today, though.”

“We did!” you agree with a laugh, standing up and grabbing the items off the table, assisting Shouto with getting ready to leave. “We’ll meet back up in two days?”

Shouto nods, “that sounds like a plan.”

You help him pack up, insisting that you could clean up the kitchen without his help. It takes a few minutes, but finally, you have him walking out of your place, a light wave on your hand before he exits onto the staircase. You close the door with a sigh.

Jesus Christ.

Shouto stands in the stairway, his eyes concentrated on his phone where he has a single question typed into his browser.

ddlg dynamics ↳ Let’s talk DDLG, also known as Daddy Dom Little Girl. It’s a submissive/dominant relationship where the dom is known as a “Daddy,” and the submissive is known as a “Little Girl.”

...Interesting.

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Now, you were a pretty paranoid person; you could admit that.

You didn’t like being paranoid, but you were. Most days, you always triple-checked you weren’t being followed, quadruple-checked you had your school assignments turned in and your things in your bag. With your sex life and part of your social life being introduced to the ddlg dynamic, your paranoia grew even more.

Most people weren’t understanding — they weren’t. They assumed this dynamic was simply calling your dom daddy in bed and getting called princess in return! They always believed that, allowed for that. It was socially acceptable to call your dom daddy in bed, but god fucking forbid any other part of the dynamic come into play.

You remember reading comments in articles about grown women sitting in frilly skirts and diapers as part of her dynamic and watching grown adults tear her apart — skin and bones. That was the reaction you feared, you hated.

There was a reason why you enjoyed sitting in your frilly skirts, in your white and baby pink clothes. You loved having your dom come home, tired and stressed, and ask you, his little girl, to sit on his lap while he distressed. You enjoyed the sippy cups that helped to melt your anxiety, and you enjoyed doing chores under your doms watchful eye.

The praises, the rewards were always so uplifting, and the sex was always on an intensity that made you tremble with explosive satisfaction. If your dom wanted you in diapers, you would negotiate appropriately, and you sure as hell didn’t need a fucking stranger’s opinion on whether or not that was ‘normal.’

But no amount of confidence you had in your dynamic had ever eased the bottomless paranoia and anxiety.

Hence why after Shouto had left your apartment and you realized in horror that you had left out some damning evidence to your dynamic. The coloring book on your coffee table and the sippy cup that was obviously used were on full display. You wondered for a few hours, nearly spirling with anxiety if he had noticed — if that was why he was partially stiff as he left for the day. You had only managed to calm down when he had sent you a text later that night that he had enjoyed being over and was looking forward to working together the next day.

The praise was needed, seeping warm into your bones as you rolled over in your bed and knocked out.

You thought that you were in the clear. That that was as far as things were going to go, but your paranoia came back the next day in full force as you sat in a group with Shouto.

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“Do you want a sticker?”

That was the beginning of it all.

You had accepted the sticker without a second thought. Your typical barriers down because the lack of a dom in your life was throwing you for a bit. God, you were pathetic. You had smiled brightly, eagerly nodding as you thrust your hands out towards Shouto, waiting to receive a sticker.

“Good job,” he had said with an endearing smile, “you deserve it.”

It was only then that the weight of what happened settled on your bones, and you froze.

Fuck.

Smiling stiffly, you pressed the sparkly pink star to your shirt and returned back to your assignment, unable to speak up again for some time.

You had hoped that it was going to end there, but it seemed that nothing about your life was going in your favor right now.

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“Do you have a bedtime?” Shouto idly asked one late night when he was over, and you could not stop yawning to save your life. “I think everyone should go to bed at 10 p.m. on a school night, don’t you agree?”

You had choked on your saliva before disagreeing vehemently.

“I don’t sleep until… like, um, three in the morning?” you make up, teeth tearing into your lip as you avoided eye contact.

“Such a bad girl,” Shouto murmured, much too low for you to pick up.

“What?!”

“That’s bad for your health,” he recovered with a smile.

“Oh… yeah, I suppose so.”

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“Y/l/n is a sub; she’s a brat about that,” Shouto said to the group you both were assigned to in yet another class the two of you shared.

You had been idly drinking from your coffee cup and was utterly zoned out when he said that. So when you had picked up his words, you nearly choked at the sentence, your eyes watering and your throat burning with your drink and humiliation as the entire table turned to look at you.

“Oh shit, are you okay?!” Mina asked, eyes wide.

“I’m a what?!” you splutter instead, eyes focused on Shouto and your cheeks beginning to burn with unsaid fear.

“You’re a substitute babysitter for your sister,” Shouto remarked, his head tilted as he feigned innocence. “You were telling me about that the other day, remember? Sero is trying to get into the babysitting gig too.”

You wanted to believe him, you wanted so desperately to believe that Shouto was just somehow landing a missile into every paranoid corner of your life without meaning to, but this was getting out of control. This was too on the head, too obvious to not say that he somehow saw your little things and pieced together the dynamic you’ve come to love and thrive in. But you couldn’t fess up; you wouldn’t give yourself to the wolves of embarrassment and shame over something you knew wasn’t wrong.

“Oh,” you say stiffly, smiling over at Sero, “I’m on an app that is used a lot by small families; I can text you the name?”

“I’d appreciate that!” Sero laughs, blissfully unaware of the rising tension between you and Shouto. “I didn’t think that high school girls had some type of business turf thing; they’re scary and aggressive!”

“It’s a serious job for high schoolers,” Mina waved him off, “this is the only thing most of them can do!”

The conversation between Sero and Mina began to drift off as you were staring at Shouto, unable to break the eye contact the both of you found yourselves connected by. You didn’t want to pull away, too bitter and anxious to. You were currently two weeks without a daddy dom in your life, and you knew that you should be able to have a better grasp on your life than this — you knew you couldn’t lean on this dynamic at every point in your life. But you were sad to admit that you were struggling to keep your head afloat. You felt like you were almost drowning, struggling to keep your composure as you needed a play or a simple scene.

But the confidence in Shouto’s eyes that were hidden behind the sheer curiosity and wonder was making your skin itch, making you want to grab him by the collar and bring him in close and demand to know exactly what he was thinking.

He would not embarrass you.

He would not.

“Can I talk to you, Todoroki?” you asked, practically demanded of Shouto as the group of you began to stand at the table, readying to leave.

If you noticed Mina’s and Sero’s eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling, you didn’t say anything as Shouto paused in putting things into his backpack. His head tilted, but he nodded his head, “yeah, about what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile stiffly, tossing your own backpack over your shoulder as you turn on your heel and immediately begin walking. Uncaring if he was following you or not. “Bye, Mina, Sero.”

There’s silence behind you before the heady sound of a chair scraping against the floor is heard and the long, quick strides of Shouto following after you. You exit the cafe you had been in, eyes squinting when the harsh rays of sun fall on your face, but you don’t hesitate or pause even once.

There’s no one outside right now; it’s just you and Shouto.

You feel him at your shoulder, and you keep your gaze straight ahead, unwilling to look at him just yet.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you finally whisper, your voice low and angry. You nearly spat them out at him, utterly humiliated and horrified that you were probably outing yourself should he just be that dense and annoyingly able to pick at your anxiety. “Stop it.”

“I don’t—” Shouto began, eyes wide and screaming of innocence that could make you cry.

“I know you saw my things, and I know you pieced it together,” you cut him off, your lips pursed tight. You suddenly stop in your tracks, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn to face Shouto. “So if you have a problem with that, I suggest that you kindly fuck off!”

Shouto stands next to you, hair hastily swept backward, hand on the strap of his bag, and his face telling you that you had miscalculated something. You prayed it wasn’t about how he knew about you being a little.

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Shouto admits, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t think you’re weird or strange or bad for being into the ddlg dynamic. I’m actually… I take part in it too. I was trying to subtly tell you that I was into it as well, and well, I heard that you and your last dom broke it off… I wanted to tell you that I was interested in becoming your new dom.”

You blink.

“Eh?!”

“I’m interested in forming an agreement with you?” Shouto tilts his head; there’s a sense of seriousness to his face, his eyes innocent. “I need a little, and if you’re looking for a dom…”

He lets the silence fill the rest of his sentence, and your mouth gapes open as blood rushes to your face at the straightforward request.

“I… I barely know you!” you splutter, your heart in your ears as you can barely comprehend what was going on.

Two weeks ago, Todoroki Shouto was practically a stranger. You knew him about as well as a person knew the barista at their favorite coffee shop. Friendly, but not close. Definitely not close enough for you to say that you would allow for him to see you in your little space, for him to give you a list of rewards and punishments — for possible sex?!

“Most caregiver contracts like this are done between people who know even less,” Shouto shrugs, his arms folded across his chest. “You don’t have to say yes now or even agree, but I like you a lot. I want to pursue a relationship with you, and I assumed that this would be a good starting ground especially if you need it.”

Your tongue sweeps across your lips, unable to come up with a single rationale thing to say.

“I don’t need an answer right now; indulge me, though,” Shouto smiles softly, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Take as much time as you need. We can do a single scene to test it out, and if it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. Let me know when you’re interested in it, though.”

You can’t say anything; you can only numbly nod as Shouto smiles at you once again.

“Let me know.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [received Today 23:44]

Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [seen 7 Days Ago 23:44]

You: ↳ Send your points, we can see if we’re compatible. [seen now]

Todoroki S.: ↳ I enjoyed the scene we did today; I hope you did too. I’m interested in making this a real thing if you are too. [received Today 20:44]

You: ↳ I did, too, actually, lol. Um, thank you, first of all! We can work on the contract now. [received Today 20:48]

Todoroki S.: ↳ Okay. I’ve already made the first draft of one; if you’d like to look it over, let me know what you think, and we can edit some things around. [seen now]

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It has been two months since the contract was signed.

Two months.

Two months of Shouto practically living in your apartment with you, a once stranger seeing you at your most vulnerable. He was a steady hand on your back as you slipped into your desired little space, a constant warmth at your side as you went about your day at home.

It had been weird at first; your anxiety still wouldn’t let up, nearly convincing you many times that this was all but a prank. That Shouto would pull away from you when you least expected it and would expose you to the world. There had been many times where he would hold you on his lap, his arms warm around your back, your favorite stuffed animal sitting on your lap as he promised you that you were wrong.

“Daddy is here to protect you, sunshine,” Shouto murmured in your ear, his warm lips pressing to the small behind your ear. “Daddy would never do that to my baby girl. That wouldn’t make me happy.”

“I-It wouldn’t?” you sniffled, your nose face nuzzling further into his neck as your sobs had finally stopped.

“No, not at all, sunshine,” Shouto smiled against the crown of your head. You felt his lips press a soft kiss there, his warm hands stroking up and down your back. “Do you remember what makes Daddy happy?”

You blink, your wet eyelashes heavy and sticking together as you peer at his jaw as if it could possibly tell you.

“I can’t… I can’t remember, sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle again, suddenly terrified that he would be upset with you. You were such a terrible baby girl.

“What makes Daddy happy is seeing his baby girl smiling, happy, protected, and safe,” Shouto easily relays, pulling you away from his shoulder, his calloused fingers rubbing the tear streaks that still stain down your face. “I promise that I will never do anything to cause you harm, sunshine. I only want you to be happy; you being happy makes me happy like nothing before.”

There’s no stopping the way your bottom lip trembles with the pleasant weight of his words, the way it warms you from your belly and curls to your toes.

“Pinky promise?” you whimper, somehow out of breath.

Shouto looks at your curved pinky that is extended out for him to hold, to seal the other half of a promise he has no intentions of ever breaking.

Smiling softly, Shouto wraps his pinky with yours and twists it gently, locking the promise.

“Pinky promise,” he affirms, placing a kiss to your knuckles.

He was so good to you.

So sweet, gentle, patient, and kind.

He tended to spend the night Mondays through Fridays, giving you the weekend to be on your own. He only ever slept in your bed with your given consent (which was every single time), and there was just something about wearing the silver chained choker on your neck that he bought for you. Dainty and cute, nothing too crazy to draw overwhelming attention.

It had a tiny cherry blossom that was engraved with Shouto on the back.

It was a constant and calming reminder of what you had during the day.

The arrangement was going better than you had assumed it was going to be.

Shouto made for an excellent daddy, but there was one grievance you had. With two months of extreme kinship, so many nights of being curled into his side, getting near-daily cuddles for following his orders perfectly, and a few spanks because you were careless even after he warned you — you had assumed that the sexual part of the dynamic would come out.

You had okayed for him to be able to fuck you, regardless of whether or not you were in little space! You reached your little space more often than not around him because he was so well, but now you were bordering desperation. You wanted your daddy to please you more, to give you the reward you wanted most: his cock.

“I’m home, bunny,” Shouto called out, his voice hinting exhaustion but mostly satisfaction at being home again.

Per your rules and regulations, greeting Shouto with a cheerful ‘welcome home, daddy!’ when he arrived home was a must. It was a clear indicator that not only were you home but that you wished to indulge in the dynamic for the rest of the day.

But you sat at the coffee table wearing an unapproved, not chosen outfit for home.

You were wearing an off-the-shoulder white cotton shirt that was big and soft, pink lace shorts that barely covered your ass but was hemmed with lace and pretty frill. You had thigh highs on as well that were the same pink as your shorts. There was a pacifier in your mouth, your gaze focused on the Disney coloring book in front of you as you colored in Sleeping Beauty.

You turned your head, eyes looking at your daddy with a vague look of disinterest before turning back to your coloring.

“I said ‘I’m home,’ bunny,” Shouto restated, giving you the benefit of the doubt of whether or not you heard him. Typically you were excited to have him home, going to his side immediately and asking a million questions as to what he had been doing and why he was home so late.

“Hmph,” was your response as you placed a sticker onto the coloring page.

Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed; he toed off his shoes and began walking towards you, assessing what was happening.

“Is my bunny mad that I was a bit later than I had promised?” he asked, sitting on the couch behind you, his fingers brushing across your clothes as if he was trying to remember if he had selected this outfit. But the sudden touch that you were craving in a way like no other made your head spin just so, and you resisted the motion of caving.

You wanted to be a brat! Your daddy should be taking care of all your needs! He promised he would be taking care of you better than you took care of yourself! He should know when you wanted his cock!

“Hmph!” you hrmph again, and you lean out of his touch even though you craved it.

Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the slow, calculating blink Shouto took at this action. There’s a moment of silence before the couch sounds under his shifting weight. You freeze at the feeling of his warm palm on your spine, a whisper of danger. It feels partially like a threat, a reminder of impending consequences.

“What did daddy say about bunny using her words?” Shouto asks, his voice stern, low, commanding.

It should scare you, but the threat in his voice makes your heart stammer and your cunt wet. So, instead of doing what’s right, you stand up, ignoring him yet again as you stick your nose up to the ceiling and try to walk away.

Well, you try to, that is.

Before you can go too far, Shouto’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.

“You know I don’t like it when you don’t speak, right?” Shouto asks, his eyes digging into your cheek as you refuse to look at him. Yet another rule he has in place. You had to look at him when he spoke to you or when you spoke to him. It was to help make sure that you behaved properly in public — to make you the best baby girl ever. “Use your words and look at me, princess.”

The word princess rolled off his tongue, and you bit down on your tongue to keep the breathy moan from expelling from your lips. He typically only used princess when you were on the verge of genuinely displeasing him, when he was warning you one last time before a punishment was given. Your daddy was two months without jacking off, exhausted from work, and now dealing with you, his bratty baby girl. There was no way this wasn’t going to end with him forcing you to suck him off or to use you as an onahole (something you had said was okay unless you used your safeword, of course).

You shook in his hold, teeth biting your lip as you stared at the wall, refusing to heed his command.

“I’ll give you to the count of three to look at me and address me,” Shouto says, his thumb stroking the innard of your wrist. “One.”

There was no way you would cave.

“Two.”

The silence between the two of you was heavy.

“One.”

Excitement shot through you at the thought of him finally fucking you into your mattress.

“No dessert tonight,” is what Shouto said instead, and you froze.

You whipped your head towards Shouto, fury, and humiliation painting your face as your jaw drops, the pacifier falling onto the floor.

“No!”

“No?” Shouto repeats, his eyes narrowed, unhappy with the challenge. “Do you want me to take away your video games too?”

“No!” you shriek, hands clawing at your face because this was not going the way it was going. “I want my dessert and my video games!”

“Too bad, princess,” Shouto states sternly, unaffected by your growing tantrum. “You lost them both for tonight.”

“No! Give them back! I haven’t done anything wrong, daddy!” you scream, throwing your arms in your hysterics as Shouto stands up to his full height, looming over you without a single issue. Tears prick at the back of your eyes because you’ve messed up somehow; your daddy doesn’t want you — doesn’t love you the way you love him.

“You’ve been misbehaving this entire time I’ve come back home,” Shouto retorts, his other hand grabbing your wrist and managing to place them both close to his chest, limiting your thrashing actions. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the new outfit.”

“I don’t want those punishments, daddy! I don’t want t-them,” you wheeze, your eyes locked on your hands that are bound so tightly in his hands, and you whimper loudly. “You’re hurting me, daddy!”

“And you’re trying to hurt me,” Shouto calmly points out. “I can’t have you doing that, so I’ll hold onto you until you calm down enough. I’m doing this because I care for my little brat.”

“You don’t care! You don’t c-care!” you sob finally, unable to keep the hot tears from your eyes. “Daddy doesn’t care about me!”

The effect is evident and instant.

Shouto’s grip on your wrist lessens altogether, and your pounding fists finally connect with his chest as you collapse against him.

“Daddy doesn’t c-care…”

“That’s not true,” Shouto breathes easily, his fingers brushing against your sides before his arms wrap around you. “I care so much for you, baby. What’s wrong? Tell me what I can do to make things better.”

A loud sniffle emits from you, and you fist your hands in his shirt, your head shaking.

“It’s been two months, and daddy won’t let me have his cummies,” you whisper, terrified that he would reject you. “Am I not good enough? Attractive enough that daddy wants to reward me with his dick?”

There’s a shift in the air.

“My little doll wants her daddy’s cock, is that what?” Shouto murmured against the top of your head. “My precious, innocent baby girl wants something filthy like that.”

“Mmn,” was all you could manage, your face burning at the implications, the suggestion in his voice.

“And instead of using her words, as we practice, she decided to act like a little brat to get her way,” Shouto’s voice is low, raspy, and deep. Its tenor is just right that it makes the room instantly hotter, your body brimming with excited energy. “I think… my beautiful doll has broken too many rules for me to just give her a good reward. She deserves to be my little doll as punishment for now. I thought she was grown enough to ask for things she wanted.”

You gasp as Shouto’s warm, calloused hands drop down to the minimally exposed flesh between your booty shorts and your thigh highs. It sends an entire wave of goosebumps down your skin, and you shudder as they rise upwards, slipping under your shirt and resting on the soft skin of your stomach.

“Your punishment will be what daddy wants it to be, doll,” Shouto states, his fingernails brushing over your clothed nipples, and you mewl at the touch. “You’ve given up your right to speak right now, and because daddy can’t trust you to not be a brat, you will suck daddy’s dick until I see it fit. You will stand on your knees like the beautiful doll daddy knows you can be. Silent, obedient, and so beautiful.”

The words are a goldmine you’ve wanted to hear this entire time, but you’re upset — rightfully upset — that it took your daddy so long to figure it out! He needed you to spell it out for him to act on it!

“I don’t like sucking dicks!” you complain, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “That’s yucky!”

Shouto raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes flashing dangerously as he absorbed the implications of your actions. He knew he was going to earn this just as much as you were.

“Excuse me?” Shouto says calmly, a single eyebrow arched. “Do you want to repeat that?”

“You heard m-me,” you stammer, trying to remain steady under his steady stare. “If daddy couldn’t catch that, maybe I should be the one giving out the punishments.”

A hot, predatory smirk pulls across his face as his grip on your wrist tightens, and he yanks you just slightly closer towards him.

“Oh really?” he chuckles so coldly you shiver. “So you think you’re in charge here?”

You nod slowly, your pupils wide and blown. Your eyes were transfixed on his mouth, his pretty plump lips practically calling your name.

His tongue swipes across his front teeth, and you watch him in awe, horror, and damning horny anticipation as he sits back on the couch and takes you down with him. You struggle for a bit, terrified as you feel unbalanced, ready to tumble to the floor. But your stomach is pressed heavily against his knees, pleasurable discomfort spreading through your body as you recognize this easy, beautiful spanking position.

“I’m going to give you ten spanks,” Shouto announces, his hand rubbing smooth circles over your soft shorts. “You will count every one of them and thank me for each one. If you mess up, if you misbehave, you will get more until you do as I demand.”

You struggle against his hold, thrashing and twisting as his fingers push the shorts higher up your ass, exposing your flesh to him. But as he did so, you remember that you’re not wearing panties, and Shouto sees that too.

“Mm, you’re not wearing panties,” Shouto says, his voice trying to keep the undying want and lust from bleeding through his tone. “My precious doll is that desperate she couldn’t fully dress herself?”

“I can d-dress— aahhh!!!!”

Your interjection was interrupted by the sharp, well-practiced spank that Shouto delivered to your round ass. You arched against his lap, your skin tingling and feeling pathetically good.

“I said you were my doll right now, and dolls don’t speak unless given permission to,” Shouto clipped, his hand circling your now tender flesh. “You didn’t count, so let's try again.”

SLAP.

“Oh my god!” you shriek at the contact, your head spinning at the craved touch. It wasn’t like his typical spanks, the ones that came down not to hurt but to remind you, to correct you to be better. These stung with power, reminding you that you were getting what you craved, and you felt your toes curl and your cunt beginning to seep with the knowledge.

Fuck, you wanted this.

THWACK.

“Again.”

THWACK.

“Daddy can spank your pretty little ass all day, doll. Do as you’re told if you want daddy’s cock.”

SPANK.

“O-One, thank you, daddy!”

WHACK!

You threw your head back at the sensation, your eyes crossing and your hips bucking backward as you shriek with pleasure. You don’t count, your head swimming with unfound energy, and Shouto tsks.

“You’re so terrible at following directions, aren’t you?” Shouto asks, his mouth hovering by your ear, and you nearly melt when his teeth tug at your cartilage at the same time he serves another heated spank to your perky ass. “Such a dirty brat, getting off on her punishments. But let me tell you, if you don’t start following what I instruct of you, I’ll fuck your mouth and leave you without any cummies.”

You gasp loudly, sobbing as he delivers yet another solid spank for your undoubtedly bruising ass. And so, with a pathetic, desperate nod, you agree.

You count to ten, thanking him each time with a beautiful sob that makes the bulge in his pants obvious to you. Your lips are swollen, bruised, and sheen with saliva from holding back your louder sobs. Your ass seems to be imprinted with the shape of his hand against your skin, and you tumble off his lap at the final thank you.

There’s slick gathered on your shorts, soaking through the pretty pink fabric turning it dark.

“I forget that my beautiful baby girl is a masochist,” Shouto sighs as he stands up in front of you. You gasp on the floor, your head swimming with the building heat between your legs, and you hear an all too familiar, always exciting, sound of a belt being undone followed quickly by a zipper and rustling fabric.

“God, you’re so wonderful, doll,” Shouto sighs as he pulls out his hardening cock to where you’re already on your knees with wide, curious, hopeful eyes. “Already on your knees, ready to choke on daddy’s cock even though this is a punishment.”

You can barely register his words, your eyes focused and fascinated — scared almost — of the cock Shouto has. It’s fucking huge, and it’s thick, slightly curved upward with a pretty flushed tip and bulging veins. You were sure if you could even manage to take more than a few inches in!

“I think I remember something about how you don’t like deep throating,” Shouto hums contemplatively. You freeze, your heart stopping for just a moment at what he’s implying. “Well, it’s a good thing this is a punishment.”

His fingers press into your mouth, making you choke, and with your lips spread wide, mouth open for taking, Shouto guides his cock into your parted lips with a dangerous moan.

There's an immediate ache in your jaw, the size, and girth of his cock overwhelming you without so much doubt. You gag immediately at the weight of it pressing on your tongue, filling your mouth. Heat hammers in your cunt, and you heave against him.

Shouto sighs as if he was in heaven, his hands grabbing the back of your head and slamming your head as far down his cock. So far that your nose brushed against the skin of his stomach, before pressing against it completely.

Shouto moans louder than your panicked gags and chokes, his hips swirling and twisting as he looks down at you with lovesick eyes. “You’re so good at this,” Shouto praises, his fingers wiping away the tears that prick at your eyes. “So good. Daddy’s so pleased with you, taking my cock so well. So beautiful even when you cry on my dick.”

Your throat spasms around his cock, your lungs burning severely from the lack of oxygen. Not a single part of your body able to relax as you desperately sought to breathe. It hurt, but it felt so good. Saliva began to pool from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin and drooling on your clothed breasts.

Shouto took notice and hummed contently.

“Daddy’s going to count to the number ten,” he informed you, rolling his hips further into your mouth, shoving his cock even further down your throat than you thought possible. “If you can keep your pretty nose pressed to daddy’s stomach the entire time, daddy promises you he will give you the best orgasm you’ve ever received.”

You made a squeaking noise around his cock, your fingers that were buried into his shirt gripping tighter as he suddenly lets go of your head.

“One.”

Resisting the urge to pull off him completely was a near-losing battle.

“Two.”

Your body shook with intensity, the scorching need to properly breathe slamming down on you.

“Three… four…”

Shouto’s hands began to pet your head, soothing the worried lines on your face, brushing away your tears.

“Five… six… fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby girl.”

You whimper around his cock, and Shouto moans liquid gold in return. He smiles deviously, fingers brushing down your throat.

“Seven… eight…” you choke loudly when his fingers press against your throat, tightening your already spasming throat around his cock, furthering the burning sensation all throughout your body. “Nine…”

You look at him with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging for mercy, for something as he pauses for more than a second between nine and ten. His hips lazily jerk into your mouth, his free hand combing his hair back, messily styling it as he smirks. Your saliva was dripping uncontrollably now, pooling at the back of your throat, on your tongue, past your lips. Shouto sighs, his eyes bright with power, with the knowledge that you were so obedient.

“Ten.”

Immediately, you collapse from his cock. Saliva and pre-cum connecting your coughing mouth to his hard dick still. Your lungs ache, and your breathing is frantic as you try to regain a sense of composure. Your tears meaning nothing so long as the inferno between your thighs is tamed.

“You did so well, baby girl,” Shouto praises, and despite the pain in your lungs, you puff up at the praise. “You did exactly what daddy asked for you, so daddy believes you deserve a reward. Do you agree?”

Unable to speak, your belly tight and warm, and your throat aching slightly, you nod eagerly.

“Use your words, angel,” Shouto coos; he steps out of his pants before squatting before you, his fingers grazing your chin. “Daddy loves it when he hears you speaking.”

“I would love a r-reward, daddy,” you whimper softly.

Your eyes swim with want, with inexplicable needs and desires. Shouto softens when he notices you nosing into his palms; he brushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“Look at how politely you asked that,” Shouto praises, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth. “Daddy’s so proud of you, sweetheart.”

You keen some more, your wet eyelashes batting in your excitement and undying love for him.

“Now, daddy wants you to go to your room and take off all the clothes you want. Once you’re ready, I want you to call me in, and then daddy will take excellent care of you, okay?” Shouto commands you, his lips pressing softly onto your cheeks, eyelids, and finally softly onto your lips.

You gasp loudly at the touch, your eyes wide but looking incredibly drunk at the touch.

“Okay!” you giggle, pressing forward and taking his lips into another kiss.

He hums before assisting you to your feet, and you breathlessly laugh as you turn around and skip away towards your room.

Your room is neat, as is required of Shouto. Your bed is neatly organized; there’s nothing on the floor or on your chair. Everything is put away correctly and cleanly. Grinning, you take off your shirt followed by your bra, shimming off your shorts, you toss away your clothes into your hamper, leaving only your socks on.

Hopping onto your bed, you grab a stuffed animal before turning to face the door and sing.

“Daddy, I’m ready!!!”

You squeal after saying that, excitedly staring at the closed door, eagerly anticipating the way Shouto would walk in. Your eyelashes flutter when you see the doorknob twist and in comes Shouto, who, unlike you, is completely naked.

Now you knew he was fit, even with your mind beginning to sink into your little space, you knew that Shouto was a handsome, fine man. He was built, muscular, and toned. He was tall, his head nearly hitting the top of the door if it wasn’t for the fact he was leaning against the doorframe. There is a slight smile on his face that screams of his pride, his joy of seeing you like this. And his eyes rake like hot coals against your body.

You shudder.

“Aren’t you cute,” Shouto murmurs, pride evident in his tone. He walks towards you, tongue slipping between his lips as he reaches the foot of the bed. “Such a beautiful princess, but now… what does princess need?”

“I need my daddy to take care of me,” you whisper, eyes hooded and mouth turning dry as he begins leaning onto the bed. “I want my daddy.”

“Such a dirty girl,” Shouto says with a chuckle as you begin to lean back onto your bed, your legs spreading for him. “Such a dirty, gorgeous girl.”

Your breathing stutters as the bed moves under his weight, and you’re practically panting as you watch his body slowly crawl over yours. Shouto looks down at you, his eyes deceivingly bright even with the shadows, and your eyes flutter as he leans down.

You’re expecting a kiss, craving the feeling of his smooth, plump lips on yours. But you gasp in shock, betrayal, and in lust when his lips press against your earlobe. He trails his kisses everywhere, kissing every inch, every centimeter of your face, but never once your lips.

“Daddy, stop teasing!!” you whine loudly, feet kicking on the mattress and hands burying into his hair.

“I’m not teasing you,” Shouto objects, but the grin on his face says otherwise. “Why do you think I’m teasing you? What do you want?”

“I want daddy’s kisses! Give me your kisses!” you cry with a pout.

With a burst of cheerful laughter that warms your heart and makes your belly flip, Shouto presses downward, capturing your lips with his. The contact is blissful, everything and more that you need. You eagerly kiss him back, making noises that are both sinful and so blessedly innocent as your arms wrap around his neck.

Shouto kisses you back with matching intensity, one elbow resting by your head, the other resting on your hip as he allows your tongue to press into his mouth. He lets you greedily take what you want, his thumb on your hip drawing nonsensical pictures. But as you shudder against him, completely overwhelmed by this all. Shouto probes his tongue into your mouth, gliding his wet, hot muscle against the roof of your mouth and the back of your teeth until your panting, unable to do anything but absorb him.

“So pretty, so cute when you’re like this. A beautiful doll for her daddy,” Shouto whispers into your mouth, and you can only moan in response.

“I need daddy,” you speak, your glazed eyes unable to even look at Shouto. “I need daddy so bad.”

“Where does my princess need me?” Shouto speaks, his lips trailing down your slick chin and neck. “Right here?” he asks, sinking his teeth onto your neck and sucking softly.

“A-Aahhh~,” you shudder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to place hickey after hickey on your neck, your collarbones, and the spot right behind your ear that makes you melt. “Yes, I need you everywhere… I need daddy’s mouth and cummies in me.”

“Your boobs are so cute, baby girl,” Shouto whispers, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you notice that he’s nosing against your breasts. “So pretty, better than anything I could have hoped for.”

You whine loudly, your body arching off the bed as his hot tongue dips out and licks a pebbled nipple. You pant as he licks again, your fingers burying into his hair.

“Such beautiful nipples, you make your daddy so happy,” Shouto praises, and you gasp loudly as his mouth envelopes your nipple. Your cunt throbs with intriguing want, your socked feet traveling up the line of his leg as his teeth graze and move your nipple in his mouth. “You make me the proudest daddy ever.”

His fingers card down your stomach, trailing and lingering around your cunt, and yet never once touching it. It’s tactical, teasing, and mind spinning. Your clit spasms with needed attention, angry with the teasing, desperate for contact — for attention. You make a noise, something not quite human, unable to pull yourself from your growing fuzzy head as Shouto moves from one nipple to the next.

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Don’t tease me, daddy,” you whisper, hips circling, thrusting into the air where you wish his fingers were.

“Okay,” he promises, and as if he could read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your untouched yet demanding nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest once again feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, warm tongue, and spit sinking into your nerves. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name. And when you thought the teasing couldn’t get worse, his fingers finally land where you want it most.

On your clit.

“You’re perfect, angel; I love you so much.”

It happens then, like a warm blanket being placed over you — comforting, warm, making the pain in your body hum with only pleasure, and your body trembles with peaking need.

“I wanna… I wanna do more,” you coo, eyes heavy and feigning intoxication as you look up at your daddy. “I wanna please my daddy!”

Your daddy blinks at you, head tilting before a knowing look flashes across his eyes, and he smiles softly, fingers abandoning their spots to press gently against your cheeks. You don’t even mind, so excited and happy that he’s holding you.

“What do you want, sunshine?”

“Can I please suck daddy’s nipples?” you ask with a hopeful face, “He made me feel so good, and I — I wanna make my daddy feel good too!”

“You wanna suck daddy’s nipples? Okay.”

You giggle loudly as the world spins, and you gasp when you’re suddenly sitting straight up, your wet cunt pressing against his hip bone. You laugh lightly, a bell-like giggle, and your hands press to his chest. “That was so fun!”

“Was it—?”

Your daddy can’t finish his sentence because you caught sight of his dusty brown nipples and launched forward, capturing the soft tissue in your mouth.

It tastes like your daddy, the salt and unique taste he has. And your tongue lashes at it, your cheeks hollowing as you suck at it some more. It hardens in your mouth, a sensation that has you breaking away from him with a beautiful gasp.

“Am I doing a good job?!” you ask, looking at the pretty pink flush on your daddy’s face as he heaves slightly, flustered and a bit out of breath. “My nipples do that when you do a job, daddy!”

“You’re doing so well,” your daddy informs you, and you laugh excitedly. “Do you want… do you want daddy’s cock now?”

“Daddy’s cock?” you question, heat rushing to your face at the naughty word. “W-What does that mean?”

“Daddy’s cock is how I can make you feel good,” daddy explains, his fingers trailing up and down your thighs, playing with the hem of your socks.

You giggle as he snaps at it playfully.

“You’ve been doing such a good job, sunshine, and daddy’s cock hurts and wants to be in you.”

“In me?”

“Mmhm, and when it’s in you, you can get daddy’s cummies,” daddy smiles softly. “You want daddy’s cummies, remember?”

You think about it, unsure if you had wanted it, but then you remember that you had said it.

“Will daddy’s cummies help me? My stomach feels funny, a-and I feel wet.”

Daddy nods fast, his body shifting so that he’s in a sitting position and your wet chest presses against him. It’s a sensation you’re unfamiliar with, and you make an embarrassing squeaking noise at the feeling.

“I promise it’ll make you feel better, sunshine.”

You think about it some more, your arms wrapping around his neck as you think. But soon enough, you find yourself giggling and nodding, “I trust my daddy!”

“I’m so glad you do. Daddy’s so glad his baby girl trusts him.”

And the next thing you know, you’re back on your back, and your daddy looms over you, spreading your legs wide apart. You look down at gasp at the sight of daddy’s cock.

“It’s so big!” you shriek, “Where is that going, daddy?!”

“This is going right… there,” daddy emphasizes, pressing two fingers into a part of your body that has you speechless. It’s an intrusion you’re almost unfamiliar with, and yet it makes your head spin and your body hot with need and action from him. “I promise it’ll feel so good; I’ll make you feel so good.”

“O-Okay,” you whimper, watching your daddy pull something against the length of his cock before pressing the swollen head to the entrance that made you feel funny in a good way. “I’m ready, daddy.”

“I’m so glad,” your daddy smiles, and with a gentle kiss to your temple, he presses his cock into you.

“DADDY!” you shriek as his cock pressed into you, filling you out and stretching you out completely. The sensation is overwhelming, piercing pleasure slamming through your body as your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice-like grip.

Daddy’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close as his hips begin rutting in and out of you. The sensation, the rhythm, is constant and is intoxicating. The creak of the mattress and the loud, grateful cries of your mouth into the crook of his neck fills the room. And then he shifts you just a bit, his hips able to thrust further, more profound, into you, and a wanton, nearly voluptuous noise escapes your mouth.

“Kiss me, daddy!” you cry, head thrusting back into the mattress, pleasure saturating so deep in your brain you can’t think anymore. “Kiss me, please! Kiss me, kiss me, kissmekissmekiss—”

His mouth is over yours, hot pants and wrecked breathing is passed between open parted lips. Your tongue pushes against his teeth, unable to find his tongue as your hips swirl and thrust up into his thrust cock. Every thrust sends daddy’s cock deeper into your pulling, demanding cunt, stretching you out, sending you further out in an unimaginable way. Your walls spasm uncontrollably, clenching and tightening without a single input.

But soon, daddy’s shifting up onto his knees, and you can only wildly cry out for him when his arms shift from keeping you close to pressing behind your knees and shoving your knees into the mattress by your shoulders. The most primal, deranged moan rips from your mouth as the stretch sends his cock to a place in your cunt you never could imagine existing. You shake like a child against him, fingers scraping at his back, tearing his skin as your heels dig into his back. The head of his cock buries and brushes against your cervix, making you cry and see colors you’ve never seen before in your life. Your praises for your daddy are endless, and his powerful pounding sends the headboard of your bed crashing against the wall harder and harder.

“How are you feeling, bunny?” Daddy grunts, his face contorted with pleasure and the need to look at you. “Do you feel my cock in you? Can you feel daddy’s cock hitting your cervix?”

“D-Daddy, I-I — ohhh my god!” you sob, your hips pathetically rutting up and down against his cock, stupidly furthering how deep his cock can go, your cervix melting with pleasure, making you oh so dizzy. You can only blabber. “Daddy’s cock is so big, it’s so good! It’s making my stomach feel so funny! I’m so scared!”

“Don’t be scared,” your daddy pleads against your neck, though his speed and strength doesn’t lessen. “Your stomach feeling funny is a good thing; it’s supposed to happen! I promise you, this is how it's supposed to happen. Okay?”

“Okay, daddy, okay, okay, okay,” your voice lessened to a senseless babble. Your sentences blurring together, and your cheek pressed into the mattress, and drool pooled from your lips.

His pace is completely irreplicable now; every maddening powerful thrust of his hips sends the headboard into the wall. The wet slapping echoing throughout the room when he pierces into you almost drowned out both of your senseless cries.

It almost scared you, the sensation foreign, but his gentle reminder that this was normal, that you would be okay, kept you from spiraling. Slick erupts in your cunt, an overwhelming heat that throbs right in your core, coating your thighs and your stomach, and with every slam of his hips, it grows only more.

Intensifying.

Exhilarating.

The temperature of your body sizzles off you in immense heat. His lips press against yours, a maddening escape of lust and need exchanging between your parted lips. Your saliva is everywhere, covering both of your faces — connecting them even when you part. But that didn’t stop him; it only fueled him to kiss you entirely, wordlessly praising you, engulfing you with his mouth, daring you with his tongue.

You were barely keeping up with his snapping hips, your mouth begging for more when he suckled on your tongue.

“It’s feeling so funny!” you suddenly cry as your daddy’s fingers pinch and rub against something between your legs that sends electric waves throughout every nerve in your body. “I feel like Imma pee, daddy! I can’t stop it! I can’t stop!”

“It’s okay, let it happen,” your daddy grunts into your ear, and with that, the calming steady of his voice, you let the heat, the tightness in your stomach you feel like is piss, slam through you.

A tingling, white noise power sensation slams through your entire body. You arch into your daddy, your scream dying on your tongue as your body thumps with a full-body heartbeat. It sends your toes curling, your fingernails scarring his back, and a pathetic, pleasure-derived sob released into your daddy’s sweaty neck.

His thrusting keeps up for a bit, letting your clenching and relaxing cunt finish him until his thrusts border sloppy, and with a final thrust that has your fingers trembling, he stops, collapsing onto you.

You don’t know what happens next, only that for one moment too long, it’s silent with only heaving breathing and incredibly warm body heat. Your eyes close, and you’re out before you even know it.

You open your eyes to a dark room.

Shouto is next to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he holds a wet, warm cloth to your body, gently cleaning you up.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, your voice scratchy and nearly blown. “Did I drop and pass out after cumming?”

Shouto jumped at your voice, looking up at your face with a tired but satisfied grin, “You did.”

You laugh softly, not quite humorlessly, not entirely because you were amused. You sit up, groaning at how your lower body screams in pain; well, it seemed that your drop really did hide any pain.

“That was fun,” you grin, eyes closing as Shouto presses the cloth to your neck, cleaning the sweat and saliva there. “Glad I decided to speak up on that — ow!”

You pouted as Shouto retreated his pinching fingers from your ribcage.

“You didn’t speak up; you acted out and then spoke up,” Shouto chuckled, sighing as he leaned backward, allowing for you to stretch your tired limbs.

“I still managed to say my truth,” you grin, taking the wet cloth from his hands and focusing on his body. Shouto sat there, still and silent, as you gingerly cleaned… everything off him.

“Well, if we’re saying our truths, can I ask something?” Shouto murmurs, so unlike his typical confident demur. You pause for a moment before nodding, continuing to clean the broken skin on his body. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? I-I know this is cheesy and all, but I feel like I want you outside of our arrangement, outside of the dynamic.”

You can’t help but laugh, making Shouto look panicked, even if for a bit.

“I thought I was the only one.”

“Sero, psst, Sero!” Mina whispers loudly, hitting her friend in the back of the head with an eraser.

“Shit, what?” Sero hisses, a slight annoyance in his face from being hit.

“Look!”

Sero follows Mina’s pointed finger over where you and Shouto sat, in the middle of your own world despite it being smack in the middle of the lecture. He scanned your bodies more intensely and froze at the sight of purple and red bruises on both your necks.

“Is that—?!”

“YES!!!”

“HOLY SHIT! WE CALLED IT!”

“Sero!” boomed the voice of Aizawa, their scariest professor ever. “Is there something you would like to share with the class?”

Sero freezes, an awkward smile blooming on his face as he shrugs, “I’m just noticing some hickies today, that’s all!”

There could have been no casualties in this admittance; after all, Aizawa didn’t give two shits about hickies on university students. But the loud, panicked “shit!” coming from you was undoubtedly damning.

Shouto snickered, his fingers tugging at the collar of your shirt as his fingers brushed against the collection of bruises, “I think they look nice.”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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bugsy-maria · 3 years

Text

Tenth Doctor x Reader

(Y/N)'s POV

I sat on my bed waiting for my bad connection to just magically get better. The google meeting popped up and popped up with the, "Contact your system administrator for more information" screen again. I swear the hardest thing so far has been not getting a good enough internet connection. I groaned in frustration for the hundredth time this morning. The sounds of London's busy street sounded in the distance, the sound of cabbies being hauled coming from outside my window was less than distant though. My neighbor shot bullets at the wall earlier this morning causing me to wake up, but I think he went out on a case a while ago as it's too quiet in his flat. Ahh, the sounds of Baker Street never get old.

I live in a flat with my mother and brother, who are some of the hardest people to talk to I swear. I slammed my computer shut. I gripped locks of my hair and pulled, not too hard but just enough to let my stress out. My breath caught in my throat as I heard a noise. A noise that only a few words can describe. The first one to pop into my head is, 'whooping' but maybe 'mysterious' could work too. I looked to where the noise was coming from. My hands still tangled in my hair.

In the corner of my room, through my fingers, I saw a blue box that said 'police public call box'. It was one that I only saw in a television show I watched as a kid. TARDIS I think it was called. A time machine that could also take you anywhere in the universe. And, if im correct, this box comes with a man inside. Upon remembering my fascinations with this man and box, I leaped into the air and off my bed, causing me to hit the floor with a thud.

My feet captured within my covers. I Quickly untangle myself and stumbled across the floorboards. I stood up straight and dusted myself off as I stood in front of the tardis blue doors. I pushed on them, I was half expecting them to be locked. Once opened, I looked inside with amazement, It looked different than what I remember. I saw a man in the center, at the control panel. I stepped in, and as soon as I did the TARDIS started to shake. I fell to the ground, and I fell hard.

"Finally!" a shout from the man came. I shakingly pushed myself up. I stood up leaning against the railing.

"Huh, so it is real." the astonishment got more and more prominent toward the end of the sentence. The man quickly turned around. I let go of the railing and continued looking at the scenery.

"What are you doing in here?!"

"What were you doing in my room?" I questioned and started walking to the middle, where the man of my fantasies stood.

"It was an accident."

"Then me being here is also an accident," I stated. My hand guiding on the rail around the console.

"Don't touch anything!" he shouted as he ran up to me and moved me to sit on the companion seat.

"I'm tacking you back home."

"No!" I shouted, "There's still so many things I need to see, doctor!" I pleaded while I landed on the holey ground. This has been my dream from when I was a kid, and there was no way an 800-year-old alien was gonna take that away from me.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, getting his screwdriver out from the inside pocket in his suit coat.

"Oh please, it's not your name it's your title. And I know that because you're on the telly sometimes. Though I don't know which generation you are." I spoke knowingly yet curious.

"Tenth, im taking you home." "But-"

"Now." his stern voice roared (RAWR X3 nuzzles pounces on you UwU you're so warm) and his stern face glared in my direction. I slumped back into the companion's seat with a torn look sketched onto my face. I hear him click and bang a couple of things before resting one hand on the panel and the other lost within his locks.

"So does that mean I can stay?" I asked hopefully.

"Absolutely not. once I get her fixed, you're going back where you came from," he said while grabbing a red toolbox from the ground and walking to the other side of the shining teal pillar, and hopping through the rails. I bounced up off the chair and to the doors. "Don't you open those doors!" he shouted.

of course, I didn't listen, I mean why would I? this is a once in a lifetime experience. I swung the doors open and saw a scene that I couldn't put into words. but I'll try. the ground was a reddish-orange colour and the sky a bright green with a red sun-like object resting over the horizon. the terrain was mountainous. in the distance, I saw something that looked like a village. I closed the doors behind me and ran. it was a good minute or two before I reached where the village was.

the streets were decorated in star-designed banners and were crowded with aliens of different species buying things that went along with the star/space theme. I continued to squeeze my way through the people. I saw a line leading to a stadium. wanting to know what was in there I quickly joined. the wait wasn't nearly as long as the line so I got in pretty quick.

I took a seat and saw the sky had changed into a dark purple. I saw billions of stars, hundreds of galaxies, and so many nebulas I couldn't count them. my jaw dropped at the most beautiful sight.

"There you are, I told you-" I looked at the voice and saw the doctor. I knew that he was going to be mad at me but I was too happy to care. "Why are you crying?" he asked, taking a seat next to me. my head tilted as I moved my hand up to my face, and sure enough, I felt tears.

"I'm just so happy I guess," I said with a closed-eyed smile. I looked back up to the stars, ever since I was a kid all I wanted to do was travel the stars before my dad died whenever there was a meteor shower or the milky way could be seen or even when you could see the planets in the night sky, we would always go to the middle of nowhere and camp to see the stars in all of there glory.

"They're just stars." I heard the doctor say, in the corner of my eye I could see him staring up at them too.

"They may be stars to you but to me, this is my childhood dream come true." I said with a large smile. " you know how I said you would be on a show in the telly? I would stay awake all night dreaming of the day that you would pop up in my room and id run away from my life and see the stars with you. that's why I didn't want to go back home." I looked at him through teary eyes, "I just wanted to see the stars and galaxies and all of the nebulas up close. to travel the stars just like my dad wanted." I smiled so wide while tears streamed down my face fast and into my mouth. he looked at me and gave me a one-armed hug, pulling me close to him.

we stayed like that for hours, watching the stars. he pointed at them and told me the name and stories of each one, along with the planets beyond them. I fell asleep on his shoulder and woke up in one of the rooms in the TARDIS. I was surprised that I was even there still. I was sure that he would have brought me home by now.

I got up from the bed and quickly put on my shoes, and walked out to the console room.

"Oh! Good you're up!" he jumped up and down, "So where to now! I heard that the planet Hat-P-7b is in rain season this time of year, oh or we could even go to J1407b, they have amazing crapes, though they don't call it crapes..." he went on and on about the planets we could go to. to say the least, I was happy. too happy that I was scared it was a dream. "So, where to?" he asked, leaning forward waiting for my answer.

"Somewhere amazing," I said with a smile, excited for the adventures that I was going to have with this man.

#doctor who #10th doctor #tenth doctor #stars #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #david tennant #x reader #xreader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #doctor who fanfic #tenth doctor fanfiction

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

Note

Since we witnessed Avalon and Daniel fighting a lot can we have a cute lil first date with them👉👈

Of course you can! 🥰 And a lil themed title stripe with faceclaims to set the qtvtp mood...

Warnings: Bit of spice but nothing too detailed

Avalon clutched her phone to her ear, sitting in her car in the parking lot behind Bluestone Lane after her shift. The line rang once…twice…she rechecked the number that was scribbled on the receipt in her hand. She felt like a fool. What was she trying to gain from this? The line rang a third time. She shifted nervously in her seat and nearly gasped when the ringing stopped a voice came through the line,

“Hello?”

Avalon hesitated.

“Hello?” he tried again.

“H-Hi.” Avalon spit out. She mentally cringed at the wavering of her voice. “Is this…” she glanced back down at the receipt as if she hadn’t read it enough times to perfectly well know his name, “Daniel?”

There was a small shuffle through the phone as she could almost hear him smile, “Avalon.”

“Yeah.” she exhaled in near relief.

“Part of me wasn’t expecting you to call.”

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno. You didn’t seem like the type to take much bullshit.”

“I don’t.”

“Well I’ll thank my lucky stars you gave me a shot then.”

There was a pause and Avalon bit her lip to hide from no one the smile that was starting to form itself on her face. She pressed her hand to her cheek and rested her elbow on the window ledge of her car.

Daniel shuffled around through the phone before continuing, braking their momentary silence, “Would you like to go out with me this weekend?”

Avalon wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say when she called him but his question had her heart fluttering with nervousness. Despite this, she played it cool, “Where would you take me?”

Daniel chuckled, “Does Santa Monica sound good?”

“The Pier?” Avalon squinted out the car window in the afternoon sun, “Alright.”

“Good. Text me your address and I’ll pick you up on Saturday. 6?”

“6 is fine.”

June 17, 2017

Here

Avalon stared down at the simple word on her phone screen. Four simple letters that she had no clue would honestly change the course of her life from that point onwards. She stood in front of her full length mirror in her living room and eyed her soft reddish brown dress, suddenly very unsure about her choice in outfit – she had already changed three times that evening and it seemed four wasn’t the lucky number.

But she had no time to go change again because Daniel was already there to pick her up – even if he was a few minutes late. She grabbed her purse and her keys and hurried out of the door and down the hall, trying to ignore the nervous butterflies that were filling her stomach.

He was stood outside her apartment complex, leaning against a shiny white Tesla in jeans and a patterned button up covered by a burgundy jacket. She could see him eyeing her up as she exited the building and approached him, her cheeks dusting a little pink under her gentle makeup and she discreetly held her arms in front of herself. She wished she didn’t wear a dress.

“Hi.” she said softly.

“Hi.” Daniel replied, eyes lingering on her as she fell to a stop a few small paces away.

“I didn’t know if this was appropriate to wear but…it’s warm tonight so…” Avalon faded out nervously.

“No,” Daniel shut her nerves down quickly, “You look amazing.”

Avalon could only blush lightly and thank him, and then once more when he opened the door for her. She eyed the interior of the car when he closed the door and walked around to the other side and she took that moment to take a deep breath. She had been on a good amount of dates in her lifetime – all twenty-one years of it – and yet this one made her feel like a shy little girl again. It wasn’t shallow enough to be his obvious money that intimidated her and it maybe wasn’t necessarily his attractiveness, but there was something about him that had those butterflies fluttering excitedly and nervously inside her.

Daniel climbed in the drivers side and started the car. He directed a question to her as he pulled away from the curb, “Did you eat already?”

“Just something small.” Avalon said.

“You’ll make it to the pier then?”

“Yes. I think I’ll survive.” Avalon giggled.

Daniel smiled and she caught it, glancing at him as he stared out the windshield as he drove them through the downtown streets of Los Angeles. The sun was still up but getting lower on the horizon and it sent sparkles of light across the ocean as they approached the beaches. They were quiet for a moment.

“You are older than eighteen, right?” Daniel asked to break the silence.

“Yeah. I’m twenty-one. Twenty-two in December.” Avalon assured him easily.

“Good…nice. I turned twenty-two in April.”

Avalon eyed him for a moment as he drove, “You’re only twenty-two?”

“What, do I look old or something?” he chuckled.

“No,” Avalon answered quickly as she eyed the Tesla logo between his hands on the steering wheel, “You just…seem to have a lot of money for someone so young. $100 tip isn’t something to be brushed off.”

“Well I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Daniel shrugged. “My best friend and I had the right connections out of university last year and right away our record company has been catching like wildfire. It’s incredible. I’m truly blessed. Just bought this beaut of a car last month; bit of a late birthday gift to myself.”

“That’s…amazing. I’m just a waitress.” Avalon chuckled lightly.

“No dream job on the horizon?” he asked.

Avalon shrugged, “Not really. I volunteer at the kids club by the beach sometimes but nothing in life seems to be calling to me…at least not yet.”

“That’s okay too. You have lots of time.”

Daniel parked the car by the beach, navigating through the crowds that were making their way down the boardwalk towards the brightly lit pier. The sky was painted a light orange as evening was falling and the day was ending but their night was only just beginning. Daniel and Avalon got out of the car and he locked it behind them as they made their way to the pier.

“So are you from LA?” he asked.

“Oregon originally.” Avalon answered.

“Really? Me too. Whereabouts?”

“Bit outside Salem…just east. You?”

“My family bounced across the river between Portland and Vancouver a bit. Couldn’t seem to decide between Oregon and Washington but I was born in Oregon.”

“Small world.” Avalon chuckled lightly. She eyed him beside her for a moment as they walked. He was taller than her by a few inches and the angle she was at had the sun casting a warm glow over his face. She looked away again, turning to the boardwalk they walked along, “Work brought you here then?”

“Yep. University of Washington grad just like my brothers but life had higher hopes for me than it did them.”

“They’re not here?”

“My eldest brother moved to Nashville for real estate and my second brother is in LA too…trying his luck with acting.”

“Acting.” Avalon breathed.

“Yeah.” Daniel chuckled lightly. “Bit of a stretch but he’d never hear me say that.”

“Of course not.” Avalon smiled softly.

They approached the ticket booth and Daniel ordered them a roll of tickets paid in cash with a slide of a $50 bill. Avalon had her hands resting nervously on her purse as she watched him pay without second guessing…she hated when people bought things for her…she always felt far too much of a burden.

Daniel seemed to sense her hesitation when he turned back to her with the roll of faire tickets in his hand, “I asked you out. I pay.”

Avalon only smiled lightly and nodded. He set his hand on the small of her back – barely ghosting her body – to lead her farther onto the pier and under the large sign that read Pacific Park. She shivered at his simple touch but his hand was gone before it could even be processed. With the sun setting, the neon lights of the fair began to turn on and soon the pier was lively with nightlife of families and young adults alike running between rides and arcade games.

At this time in the world, Daniel’s career was new so he could still generally go through public life ‘unnoticed’ which made the night that much more special. He didn’t have to worry about publicity or work and he just had fun. It was easy to have fun with Avalon, especially when she was screaming on the roller coaster at the top of her lungs. She was carefree and genuine and pretty and Daniel couldn’t help but realize he might be falling for her already.

After a few rides, they shared a funnel cake on a bench over looking the beach and the ocean as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. They sat side by side as they chatted and ate, nearly so close that their thighs were touching. They talked about growing up and their jobs and their favourite things from films to family vacations.

“Do you snowboard?” Daniel asked through a mouthful of funnel cake.

Avalon giggled at the way it morphed his voice and then shook her head, “No. Never.”

“Never?” Daniel gaped at her. They both moved in for another piece and their plastic forks bumped. “Well then, I’ll just have to take you snowboarding one weekend.”

Avalon smiled bashfully as he obviously was already thinking about seeing her again, “That would be fun.”

When their snack was done, the sun was completely set and the night sky was polluted with city lights and the neon stripes that filled the pier. Life was still bustling around them as strangers made the most of the fair and Santa Monica was filled with lively screams and noises of games and rides. Daniel and Avalon walked side by side through the fair and she stopped when he did.

He glanced at the game booth he stopped beside and sent her a cheeky smile, “Is it cliché for me to win you a bear?”

“Disgustingly cliché.” Avalon agreed.

“Let me do it anyway?”

“Of course.” she stepped up beside him. “Let’s see that arm, Daniel.”

He handed the clerk two of their dwindling roll of tickets in exchange for three balls. The objective was to knock down the three horses each at varying distances from the player and if you got all three, you won the largest prize.

Avalon watched intently as Daniel picked up one of the balls and tossed it in the air as if to get a feeling for it. He glanced at her, sent her a cocky smirk, and then aimed and threw it to one of the targets. Clear miss.

“Goddamn.” Daniel mumbled.

Avalon laughed lightly and leaned forward on the wooden counter ledge as he picked up another ball. She watched him lick his lips and then narrow his light eyes in concentration and he threw the second. Miss.

“What the fuck.” Daniel grumbled, grabbing the last one. His cheeks were slightly pink in embarrassment. He missed the last one too by only an inch or so. “Oh come on.”

Avalon hid her laughter behind her hands.

Daniel looked to the clerk who was retrieving the balls, “How much for the bear?”

“They’re not for sale.” the man said with an amused smirk.

“Please?” Daniel nearly begged. “I just want a bear to impress this pretty girl. Do me a solid, bro.”

“Should have better aim then, dude.” the clerk retorted. He fished around behind the counter and set a rubber duck with a little sailors hat on the surface, “Best I can give you is this.”

“Oh, great.” Daniel said sarcastically. “A pity prize.”

“Don’t be such a sore loser. My turn.” Avalon nudged him to the side. She handed over her two tickets and got three balls in return.

Daniel was left shocked as she hit every horse down and was passed one of the large teddy bears off the shelf.

“Thank you!” Avalon said to the clerk as she struggled to hold the bear that was almost the size of her. She turned to look at Daniel behind the bear as they started walking away, “Here. I won you the bear you wanted so badly.”

“What the hell? How did you do that?” Daniel gaped, helping her to hold the bear up off the ground.

“I played softball for a few years.” she said proudly.

“Damn.” Daniel tisked.

“Don’t be jealous. You got a cute duckie.” Avalon nudged him.

Daniel frowned down at the rubber duck in his hand.

Their last stop was the ferris wheel and after a bit of a lineup they were buckled into their seats with the huge teddy bear tucked between them. They fell into natural silence for a bit as the wheel spun them around slowly and at the top they could see a lot of Los Angeles lit up through the night. Daniel stared at her for a while as she looked out across the city and when he finally turned to admire the ocean, she stared at him. He must have been one of – if not the – most handsome men she had ever seen.

When the ride was over and their tickets were all used up, they headed back up the pier towards the parking lot by the beach. As they walked away from the fair the lights faded a little and Daniel glanced at her and her light fabric dress she wore.

“Are you cold?” he asked, breaking their quiet.

Avalon looked over at him but she couldn’t answer before he was shrugging off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders. She smiled softly and thanked him with a whisper.

They continued in peaceful silence and Daniel glanced down between them to her hand that wasn’t holding her bear. He discreetly reached out to brush his fingers over hers just to hear her gasp under her breath in surprise. They didn’t speak as they walked slowly and he slid his hand into hers, carefully lacing their fingers together as if he were treading in dangerous waters. But Avalon only looked up at him and smiled sweetly, holding his hand nice and snugly. He made her heart race.

They soon reached the car and he unlocked it so she could tuck the bear into the backseat. He stood a few paces away to just watch her, how she set the stuffed animal in the seat to make it look like it was actually sitting and buckled in. He was falling for her. He had never fallen for anyone and, gosh, it was only the first date.

Avalon closed the door and turned to smile at him, “He’s all buckled in.”

“Good.” Daniel whispered gently in reply.

He stepped closer as she opened the passenger door and he cautiously grabbed her arm to stop her. Her little gasp filled the space between them as he turned her around and gently leaned her back against the side of his car. The parking lot was quiet and they both took a second to stare at each other, standing so close they could feel each other’s body heat.

She could see the lights from the near distant pier reflecting in his eyes. He could see the stars in hers. His eyes focused on her face, down her nose, her neck, and lingered on her collarbones and curves of her breasts that pushed up the material of her soft brown dress. His jacket that was draped around her shoulder was slightly big on her.

Daniel spoke in a whisper, “Can I kis-”

She finished his question for him as she set her hand on his chest and leaned up to push her lips on his. They both froze for a moment in time, unmoving, still except for the light ocean breeze that ruffled their hair. Daniel’s hands finally moved to her cheeks, locking her lips with his in a soft kiss as they breathed in time together. They shared long lingering kisses, lips meeting and parting slowly in the nighttime air to the faint waves of the ocean on the shore.

Avalon’s arms slid around his shoulders and she tilted her head slightly to kiss him deeper, welcoming the flick of his tongue against hers with a small inhale. Their kisses were careful and still slightly hesitant but only growing deeper with time as tongues pushed gently against each other between mostly closed mouthed kisses.

Daniel moved his hands from her face down to her hips and gently led her back, breaking their kiss. They still stayed close as their noses brushed and lungs breathed in the sea air together as if they had known each other far longer than merely two days. He sighed lightly and left a few more soft kisses to her lips and she could feel his lashes brushing her cheeks when he moved and she inhaled the woodsy smell of his cologne as her eyes stayed closed a moment longer.

“Wanna come over?”

His words fell between them like a simple breath, holding the status of their early-stage relationship in its grasp. With eyes still closed, Avalon bit back a little smile and nodded gently, sliding her hands from around his neck to his shoulders.

“Yeah?” Daniel clarified.

“Yeah.” she whispered, pushing another kiss to his lips.

Both of them barely remembered getting in the car or driving out of the parking lot and the ride through the city streets was perfectly peacefully silent. They both had little smiles on their faces and Avalon was looking out the side window holding the little rubber duck in her hands on her lap, her lips tingling from where he had kissed her. He somehow managed to take her breath away so easily.

Daniel’s head was spinning. He was twenty-two, he had experiences with girls, but there was something about Avalon that was the first one to make him nervous. It felt so easy at Bluestone. He flirted, he sent his sweet smile, and got her number, but once he got to know her, it all felt so…real. He pulled up to a red light and coasted a stop. The roads were almost empty and the streetlamps that lined the sidewalks cast shadows and light across the interior of the expensive car. They made her dark eyes sparkle to the point where he reached over to set his finger on the side of her face and turned her to face him as he leaned in for another kiss. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Avalon smiled softly into it, gladly kissing him back, letting her eyes close and her senses to be captivated by him. She was already addicted. The light turned green and they barely even noticed until the car behind them honked. They shared nervous little chuckles as they continued through LA and towards Daniel’s house.

He surprisingly didn’t live in a mansion – Avalon had expected one for some reason – but Daniel pulled up into the driveway of a white-painted single storey house in the neighbourhood just out of downtown. It was nice. They both got out, not speaking a word as he plugged in his car and then led her up to the front porch. The teddy bear was left in the backseat.

The moment they were inside and the front door was closed, their lips found each other again like instinct. It was a mess of kicking off shoes and him leading her down the hallway to his room all while trying to stay connected by their mouths ungracefully. Avalon barely had a chance to even take in the sleek white and black accents of his bedroom before he was pushing off his jacket from her shoulders and she was working on the buttons on his shirt.

The rubber duck that was still tucked in her hand was haphazardly set on his side table as they fell onto his king size bed in a mess of sheets, limbs, and fiery kisses.

When their cravings had been filled and the sweat of the evening warmed their skin, they laid side by side under the white sheets, chests rising and falling in perfect time. Daniel had his arm around her shoulders and Avalon had hers resting against his bare chest, both of them laying in perfect silence as they wrapped their minds around the evening.

“I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.” she whispered.

Daniel shifted slightly to look her in the eye, “Was that…”

“No. It wasn’t my first time.” Avalon finished for him. “But I…I’ve just never…I’ve never slept with someone so quickly.”

“Is that a problem?” Daniel asked quietly, brushing her tangled blonde hair back from her face.

She propped herself up on her one arm and smiled softly and shook her head, “Not with you.”

Daniel swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, “Well…I don’t ever like women as much as I like you.”

Avalon’s cheeks flushed pinker than they already were and she leaned down to kiss him once.

“Stay the night?” he asked through a soft breath, dusting his lips across her cheek until shivers slunk down her arms.

Avalon smiled happily and nodded, resting her head down against his chest. Daniel pet her hair back and kissed the top of her head and she fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. The first night of the rest of their lives.

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee @randomlimelightxxx @stuffofseaveyy @hopinglimelight @tempus-ut-luceant @br4nd1s @xkelsev @hiya-its-amber @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @bessonbae

#🔪#daniel seavey #why dont we #daniel seavey fanfic #daniel seavey imagines

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mimssides · 3 years

Text

Never Met You

Chapter 9: Bittersweet

Sweetness turned bitter. It is happiness tilted with the knowledge that something can never happen again.

Logan had never had to actively fight on a battlefield. They had prepared him during all his life for the moment when it would come so far. They had taught him to think quick, to act without remorse and to see the danger behind his back. Logan had been better at it than the rest of his unit. He had wielded his sword with skilful, analysed situations rapidly and accurately, and was willing to make the hard decisions.

None of his upper-ups had ever thought that he would become the one to sit on the throne. None of them had expected him to stand in the soldiers’ camps, on the wet and soaking soil in the robe of a king and a crown sitting on his head.

Logan had not expected so either. But here he was. The battle had begun and all he could do was wait. Nurses, a few elderly people, too old to fight but still wishing to fulfil their duty, had stayed back in the camps with him and were preparing for the incoming wounded. Janus was somewhere amongst them as well. He had insisted on staying with his king and was helping in the ways he could.

“I will go to the eastern gate. Maybe someone will need my help there,” Logan announced to Green who was putting down some boxes with various medical equipment in it.

The guard quickly placed them on the ground and made sure that the medics had seen it and ran over to Logan. It was not that Logan had requested him to stay by his side at all times, nor had Janus for that matter, but Green refused to leave Logan out of his sight even for a moment since they had left in the early morning.

Logan simply accepted his behaviour and they walked silently to the gate. Just one younger man was there as well, keeping his eyes out for the first soldiers to head back. There was nothing to be done there. Logan had known and so had Green. There was not much to be done here anyway.

They could see the battle. They heared orders being shouted and people screaming. Logan’s chest hurt from the sight. He lowered his gaze and turned it over to Green. He was staring at the horizon with a steely glare, his upper lip shivering with barely concealed rage.

“This is a tragedy,” Logan mumbled and Green’s eyes flickered over to him.

“It’s an outrage.”

Logan’s eyes went wide as he heard those words. Green was direct, was harsh if needed and could overexaggerate his words like no other but the pure anger in his voice was nothing like any of the things he had heard him say before.

“The audacity to not listen to reason, the audacity to fight for land which he isn’t even interested in. Just making a point by sacrificing the lives of the people he wanted to protect. I can’t believe him. I can’t believe that he let Jean talk him into this nonsense.”

Whistling. A static high note rang in Logan’s ears.

“What?”

Green didn’t look at him. He didn’t even seem to register Logan’s tone or his confusion. No, Green was wrapped up in his thoughts and forgot who he was speaking with for the first time since Logan had met him two and half months ago.

“George is hot-headed and proud but he’s not evil or cruel. He didn’t hate King Aneas and he knows that you are smarter than him. He could talk to you. He could confide in you as he did- He confided in all of us after- His brother is the most ludicrous thing that happened to him and now he is listening to a man who hungers for the power he chose to give up himself? What kind of move is this? How stupid has he gotten?”

“Green?”

He flinched and ripped his eyes away from the horizon and looked at Logan as if he had been slapped. His name had gotten him back to reality and out of his head.

“Why do you talk about King George as if you knew him? Who is we and what is the meaning of this?” Logan asked sharply and Green gulped.

Green stepped back. There was nothing around them that could serve him as a distraction. There was nothing he could do to dodge the question. And he didn’t want to. He so badly wanted to say what was going on, who he was and just fall in Logan’s arms and be held by him.

But that was not something he could have anymore.

“I can’t say, Your Majesty!” Green said pained and held up his hands defensively. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I – I apologize. All of this is driving me crazy, I – I must be losing my mind a little.”

Green chuckled weakly but Logan just glared. He glared not because he distrusted or was angry with Green but because there was something he didn’t know, something he felt like he should know and yet didn’t. He was frustrated with himself and with Green for not letting him help him.

“Who are you really?” Logan blurted and stepped closer to him before a shout stopped their conversation at once.

The shout was Logan’s title and it came from the young man, who was the only one in their proximity. And besides his title he also screamed a warning, Logan would never be able to recall. He turned around himself and faced a young man, almost still an adolescent, wearing the uniform of the Raganian army.

A sword was in his hand, eyes focused on Logan’s chest and he bolted forwards.

With a sword Logan knew exactly how to parry this hit.

With a shield he could have blocked it.

With his dagger in his boot, he could have done something as well.

But none of those things were available to him at the moment. All he could do was try simply dodge out of the way. And he was about to do so.

Green was quicker. Green shot in front of him, sword drawn almost in time. But his movement was stifled by surprise, the sword not able to parry the other blade.

Steel met his flesh just beneath the ribcage. There was much force in the young man’s panic, enough to send the sword through him. Green’s blade fell and blood soaked through his shirt. He looked down to the weapon in him, followed it to the hand which was holding it still. Followed the arm and the met the young man’s gaze.

He was mortified. Green smiled.

“Good hit, kid. It’s important to always … believe … in your strikes... It’s important to follow … through.”

He was on the ground, sword still in him. He hadn’t thought that it would hurt so badly.

“SteP AWAY FROM HIM!”

Green’s sight was getting blurry. He was losing too much blood. He would die. He would bleed out. How his father and mother had bled out. He would die.

Thud.

Pain. So much pain and faintness in his head.

“Green?”

Something wonderful was resting on his arm. His sight focused. There was Logan. His Logan. Was this the last time he would see him?

“‘m scared... thought dying would feel … different” Green muttered.

Logan was smiling. He was smiling. Why was he smiling?

“The medics are almost here. They will do everything to safe you.”

Logan was crying. He was smiling but he was crying. He was being strong for Green.

“nobody … should have to be saved … Patton …”

Logan put his hand on his cheek.

“Don’t worry about him. I will make sure this ends now. None of my citizens should suffer like you. I will do it for them. I will do it for you.”

***

“And there he is,” █████ said softly and leaned against the doorframe.

Logan was sitting in front of his vanity, eyes glued on the mirror until his partner, now his husband, had called for him. With shining eyes Logan turned around and looked at █████ with wobbly lips. Quickly, █████ stepped inside and closed the door. He knew that despite it being their wedding day, Logan would not appreciate for everybody to see his more emotional side.

Seven steps and █████ stood next to Logan, got on one knee besides his chair and draped his arm around Logan. Logan leaned into it and they let their heads meet gently as they looked in the mirror.

“I am so lucky to have married the most beautiful man in the world,” █████ said and watched Logan’s cheeks turn red as a smug smile grew on his own lips.

Logan leaned closer against him and mumbled: “I do not think that something like the most beautiful man exists in an objective sense but I appreciate the compliment. You look quite stunning yourself.”

Gingerly, Logan touched █████’s bangs and pushed them back before he pressed a little peck on █████’s cheek. He then pulled back, so █████ could stand up. █████ did so only to sit down on Logan’s armrest and to stare at his husband in awe. Softly, he rested his head on Logan’s and smiled at their reflection. Logan’s smile did not quite match his pure enthusiasm as it was slightly subdued.

“What is it, my lovely bug?” █████ asked.

Logan rolled his eyes barely masking the fondness behind the motion.

“Are you nervous for your coronation?”

Logan’s gaze fell into his lap. Gently, █████ squeezed his shoulder and stood up to stand behind him. With no further ado he began to massage Logan’s shoulders and pressed a little kiss on top of his head.

“I know that this is what I want,” Logan said after a few moments.

█████ hummed agreeingly and Logan continued: “I have your blessing as well as your brother’s. The people seem to like me well enough and the fraction of people who are against me taking the throne next to you have never been so quiet. I just-”

Through the mirror Logan caught █████’s look.

“What if I cannot be the king the people deserve?”

█████ halted. Within the blink of an eye, he straightened up and rose his chin just ever so slightly. The posture was perfect and regal. One of a king. Logan gulped. He knew that could never be him.

“Do you think I am what the people deserve? Do you think I was not nervous before I officially got crowned, after having ruled for six years as a child ████? I was born to do this, Logan. I was trained and educated for it and yet I know I’m not the ████ the people deserve.”

He took a deep breath, hands joined behind his back, voice clear and strong as he continued: “But I was all they had. It was not a choice for me or anyone else to make. And so, I gave my all to be enough for them.”

Suddenly the stiffness was gone and █████ let his posture drop and all but draped himself over his husband’s shoulders.

“But it’ll never be enough, my star. And it’s okay. I’m trying every day and they forgive me when I fail. And they will forgive you even more. Because you, my love, you are so much more qualified to do what I am doing. I have seen you attend my meetings, talk with my council and stand your ground with the nobility in such a masterful way. You have Roman’s diplomatic nature and are a greater strategist than I could ever wish to be. You were the first thing I dared to take for myself since my parents’ assassination and I have never regretted it ever since.”

No, Logan did not cry. █████ did not wipe away his tears as he got in front of him and caressed his cheeks with his thumbs.

“I love you beyond words,” Logan said quietly and watched █████’s face light up like a million stars.

“Oh, and I love you eternally, my beautiful, beautiful husband,” █████ said and they kissed.

It tasted a little bit salty. Maybe █████ was a little bit emotional as well.

“You will do great for them, Lo. I know it.”

Logan tilted his head to the side and pulled █████ onto his lap. With a yelp and a laugh, he complied and let Logan give him an uncharacteristically firm hug. █████ hugged back and waited for Logan to let go. He didn’t. Not for a long time.

Gingerly, █████ tapped Logan’s shoulder and hummed: “What is there still, my bug?”

Logan squeezed █████ close to his chest.

“I will be good for you. No matter what you think, but I know this world has never seen a ████ as kind and as grateful as you and I will make you see that. I will make you realize that you are far more that the people ever deserved.”

No, █████ did not cry. Logan did not wipe away his tears as he stood up with his husband and got ready for his coronation.

***

A rush of warmth ran through Green and the fear was gone. He didn’t manage to focus on Logan anymore but he didn’t need to. He knew he was there. He knew he would follow through. He closed his eyes with a smile.

***

Logan knelt next to Green’s body. There was a red patch of blood on his knee. He swallowed thickly and lifted his hands up to his head. Graciously, he took of his crown and put it down above Green’s head. Then he rose from the ground and shot a look to the young man who had tried to warn him.

“Your sword and then get the medics,” Logan said and without question was handed the sword.

The man ran and shouted for help immediately and Logan turned towards the one who had tried to stab him. With barely any effort he slapped the sword out of his hand and grabbed him by the back of his neck, twisted him around and held him against his chest, sword tickling his throat.

And then Logan walked. He walked towards the battlefield; his heartbeat steady but slow. The young man in his grip was trembling but Logan didn’t care. He would soon be where the fight was and nothing would stop him anymore. Not Janus’s calls for him to wait, not the sight of a battle.

Nothing could stop him now, as he stood behind his men with an enemy pressed against him and crippling grief in his chest.

Logan stood still and took a breath. And then he screamed from the bottom of his soul. He screamed out in terror, in anger and in misery. And the soldiers in front of him stopped. They stopped and watched their king step forward with a young trembling man in his grip. They watched as he moved further and further until he stood in midst of the battlefield, enemies as well as allies stopped to move around him.

“What are you doing?” Logan called out to the soldiers around him.

No one moved.

“This solider just injured a man fatally. A man who did nothing but protect me. A man who wanted to go home to a child he cares very much about. And this soldier is young too. He will have to live with what he has done for the rest of his life.”

Logan lowered his sword and pushed the man away from his chest, hand still tightly holding onto the back of his neck.

“You all will have to live with what you are doing here right now. You will kill each other in the name of a crown I am not willing to wear anymore. Not if I can’t stand with you. Because I am one of you. I am a soldier. I was trained as one, lived as one in my youth and expected to die as one. But I did not, and that is not for I am smarter, richer or more powerful than you, but it is because my prince was kind. My prince believes that my wish for peace and prosperity for all people is the only way to rule and so do I.”

He let go of the man and the man turned to look at him. In shock he watched Logan Rayne’s tears fall.

“You are the people. You are those who fight our fights. You are more than your generals and your kings. You are what makes your homes your homes. You can end this war now before anything worse happens. You can lay down your weapons and go home. Go home to your families, your animals and your houses and do what you want to do instead of injuring and killing strangers.”

And then Logan dropped his sword to the ground. He looked around the crowd with his chin held high, despite the tears running down his cheeks. He watched his own soldiers lower their weapons. A moment or two passed and the “enemy” did so as well.

Logan lowered his head. A whimper shook his body but he caught himself and looked over the soldiers again.

Weaker but still clear Logan said: “Whoever is hurt may go back to the camps. We will treat anyone who needs help. That includes Raganian solider too.”

A few of his soldiers confirmed and Logan nodded at them. Slowly, he folded his hands behind his back and began to walk towards the camp. Soldiers began to follow him. The closer he got to the camp, the closer he got to the little group of people gathered around the eastern entrance, the more his legs started to feel faint. Someone caught him when he tumbled and he put his hand over his mouth as he spotted the stretcher which was put beside Green’s body.

“Your Majesty?”

Logan looked to the soldier who had caught him. She looked concerned and he tried to regain his balance.

“Excuse me,” Logan said and shot her a half-hearted smile, “today seems not to be my day.”

She just nodded and stayed by his side. They got closer to the entrance and Logan watched as several people lifted Green on the stretcher. People were talking and orders were thrown around hastily as they carried him away and Logan regained a bit more composure and told the soldier that she could go. He would be fine.

“Logan!!!”

But apparently Janus wasn’t.

Agitated Logan looked around until he finally spotted the Royal Advisor running towards him from the entrance. He almost tumbled over his own feet and Logan found himself unnerved but at the same time relieved. He wasn’t the only one to struggle with everything that was happening.

Just before Logan Janus stopped and finally Logan realized that Janus was holding his crown and had red eyes. He felt his stomach sink and his eyes automatically flickered towards the medic who disappeared in a tent with Green.

“Why are they all coming back? What did you do?” Janus asked and his fingers clenched around the golden object in his hands.

Logan inhaled and exhaled slowly. He knew the smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes.

“I advised them to stop. And they did. This battle is over,” he said easily and put his hands on Janus’s.

Janus gulped. There was nothing of his usual composure left, nothing of his snark or his silver tongue. Logan had to take matters in his own hands. Quickly he ordered a few soldiers who were unharmed to spread the news, inform Roman of what had happened. He asked around if anyone needed more help and designated someone to be in charge of the camp for the time being, as he retreated in his tent together with Janus.

Logan soon took a seat on the makeshift bench they had put in the middle and tapped on the spot next to him. Janus sat down. He was fiddling with his fingers, visibly shaken and Logan gave him a minute to collect himself.

Minutes passed and Logan expected Janus to talk but nothing came. He was just unnerved and fearful and Logan decided to put his and on Janus’s knee and waited for his friend to look at him. It took him merely a moment and he met his king’s gaze.

“What is on your mind?” Logan asked kindly his throat feeling dry from the words he had shouted earlier.

In front of him, Janus grabbed the edge of the bench, his knuckles turning white and his shoulders began to shake. And for the first time ever Logan watched Janus begin to cry. He watched as his body shook and his lips refused to stay pressed together and wails and sobs escaped his lips. And despite his own pain, despite his own regret and guilt, Logan sat closer and took Janus in the arm. He knew he was no Roman whose hugs seemed to be able to cure every sadness in the world, but he had to be enough for the moment. And Janus didn’t recoil. He let Logan hold him, buried his head against his chest and gave into the soft pats Logan drew on his back.

And between his wails and tears Janus muttered something. Logan heard it.

“I thought it was Roman. I thought I saw Roman on the ground. Then I thought it was Aneas. I saw his corpse again. I saw it.”

***

Noon and the afternoon passed. Some of the tents were already gone and a few soldiers had already returned to the castle. Logan and Janus would stay here until the next morning when they would get back with the rest of the injured soldiers. They would be treated close to the castle. Green would be one of them, if he survived the day. It wasn’t clear yet.

It was around six in the afternoon when two horses approached the camp, one black and one white with Virgil and Roman on them respectively. Roman had dealt with the first people to come back from the battlefront and had given all the instructions which had been needed in these first moments, before he had put himself on a horse and rode straight towards the battle himself. Because these messages hadn’t been sent by Janus and he needed to know why it hadn’t been Janus who had asked for him.

When he got down from his horse, Virgil close to him, he soon found out why. Janus came running for him, cradled his face the second he reached him and looked his eyes. He was dishevelled and no word formed as he opened his mouth to say something. Anything really.

Roman took him in his arms. He felt his heartbeat speed up and shot a look to Virgil who looked just as alarmed as Roman did. Quickly they tried to figure out where Logan was to get some answers but the king was faster than they were. Logan walked towards them, shot a quick look around and motioned them to follow him into his tent. Janus clung to Roman on the whole way and Virgil ended up patting the Royal Advisors back out of worry for his companion.

The second they were out of earshot from the rest of the camp inside the tent, Roman asked: “Okay, what on earth is going on? The messenger told me that you simply stopped the war with a speech? What happened and what did you say?”

Logan told them to sit down and he retold what had gone down these past few hours. He left out who had protected him and at first it seemed that neither Roman nor Virgil questioned the absence of Green. But there came the point where Roman noticed and finally asked the question.

“Where is Green helping actually? I haven’t seen him yet.”

Logan paused too long. Virgil was the first to realize and shot up from the ground in front of Janus’s feet. Roman looked at him confused and the realisation didn’t come until a few moments later when Virgil began to speak.

“In what condition is he?” Virgil asked.

Roman’s eyes grew wide. His ears were filled with white noise and suddenly everything went black.

***

The one good thing that came out of Roman fainting was that Janus finally snapped out of his state of panic and started to function again. Quickly he had placed the prince on Logan’s bed with Virgil’s help and they left him with Logan in favour of making sure that everything was running smoothly in the camp.

The atmosphere was calm and very little had been heavily injured. And yet Virgil felt how a thick fog of uneasiness was laying about them all. The voices of the people were hushed as they spoke and for once he could tell that it was not because he was close but because of something different. It took a moment for Virgil to catch on but soon he found that the closer they got to the tent where Green was treated the quieter everything had gotten. He asked Janus about it and he told him that everyone, even those who hadn’t known Green before this day, had reacted strongly to seeing him hurt. A few had even started crying despite themselves.

Without saying both men knew that this was not only odd but had to be related to with whatever spell had been put over Green. Yet all of that speculation would be for naught if Green would die of his injuries and as of now none of the medics treating him had come out to tell them anything about his state.

And so, the evening came. Logan and Roman rested in the tent, both feeling rather emotional over what had happened today. Janus, while still unnerved, was now taking care of the organisation and left Virgil to keep an eye on their royals. It was not much that Virgil could do but make sure that both Logan and Roman took their meal, which turned out to be rather difficult in Logan’s case ash he had trouble to keep his food down and decided to only eat a few spoons of the soup they had been given.

After dinner, Logan was lying on his bed, Roman’s head on his lap, as Virgil sat next to the entrance and listened to what was happening on the outside. This form of closeness was not something Logan let himself have all too often and yet he could not imagine how he would do if he didn’t have Roman around. The comfort of the prince’s presence was enormous and was the only thing what kept Logan going at this point.

“We’ll have to find out who he is, after we get back.”

Logan lifted his head and glimpsed to Roman. The vibrant green eyes caught Logan’s mismatched ones and Roman nodded his head for empathise.

“He’s not just someone and we both know it. Our reactions should not be as extreme as they are, Logan.”

Logan bit his lips. Could it not be that all of this was just because they were under such immense stress? That he was this emotional because the air of a war was still occupying the atmosphere? It had to be this and not some weird conspiracy, correct?

“I can’t agree,” Logan said stricter than he felt. “The situation is extreme and we should not make assumptions on several oddly placed coincidences.”

Before Roman could answer, Virgil stood up. Both royals sat up and watched as Virgil opened the tent for Janus to enter. From the outside they heard a few people talk with each other.

The fabric of the opening closed and Janus looked over the two and then to Virgil. There was a short twitch on his lips and he turned back to look at Logan and Roman. Subconsciously, both of them held their breath.

“I just got news from the medics who are treating Green,” Janus said and put his left hand over his heart. “They told me he was in stable condition and can be-”

He didn’t get to say the rest as Logan dissolved in tears of relief. Janus was soon by his side, holding him from the side as Virgil brought him some water. Roman was crying himself but a smile kept itself steady on his lips.

He had been right and now not even Logan could disagree with him anymore.

___

Link for AO3, Taglist, Masterlist, and next Chapters are in my first reblog!

#intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #background romantic anaroceit #fatal injury #stabbing #blood #fainting #crying #sobbing #angst #happy end #fantasy au #Never Met You #eir writes #please reblog

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buckthegrump · 4 years

Text

IBTHNTTTY - 5

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Y/n hates Bucky Barnes. Absolutely loathes him what makes it worse is that she has to share her office with him. Now with a promotion on the horizon she has to find a way to work with him and not against him.

Word Count: 1063

Warnings: Angst (kind of), fluff, mentions of past bullying, wizard swears, probably other things

A/n: if i can keep up the writing sprints that i’ve been doing i might update more than just every other day

There was the main gathering hall that was also the mess hall, and as it would turn out where they were having a ‘party’ (Coulson’s words) after dinner Friday night. And by party, he meant there would be music and drinks. After some fussing form someone in HR, there were also snacks, but someone had to run out and get them.

Y/n promised Natasha that she would stay for a few drinks, but what she really wanted to do was go sit somewhere quiet and read. If Wanda had heard her say that, she would point out that Y/n was acting like reading could be her one and only personality trait.

Which was sometimes true. But she also had a secret superpower of being able to sneak away from parties mostly undetected. A power that she’d finally used to make her way to the beach.

There was a fire pit with a few chairs around it. Y/n added some wood and lit the fire. She sat there in silence, staring at the stars. The sweatshirt she wore didn’t have a pouch or a hood, but the fire kept her warm enough.

So she wasn’t actually reading, but she would get around to it. But here on the beach where the lights from the human world were scarce, the stars were bright, and she could see more than she could in the city.

“Shouldn’t you be at the party?”

Jesus, how was this guy everywhere? Y/n looked up at Bucky, looking down at her with a smile on his face. It wasn’t a smirk or smug in any way—just a smile. In the light of the fire, he looked good. There wasn’t a better word for it other than good.

His smile was irritatingly white and straight.

“Mind if I sit?” He gestured to the chair next to her.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? You’d sit even if I said yes,” she pointed out.

He h’mmed as he plopped down in the chair.

“I thought for sure you’d be reading,” he commented off-handedly.

“Well, sometimes I like looking at the stars, and I can’t look at the stars while I’m reading, can I?”

“If you listened to audiobooks, you could,” he pointed out.

“Oh my god,” Y/n said with her head still tilted towards the sky, “You’re a genius, I should totally do that.”

“But it wasn’t a bad idea -”

“I know,” she conceded, “Audiobooks are always so stiff. I like podcasts better because it feels more like listening in on a conversation.”

Buck stood and plucked the book from her lap.

“Hey!” Y/n looked at him as he said,

“What are you reading?” He squints at the title. “Children of blood and bone?” He gasped and looked at her. “From a competing publishing company? Wait until Coulson and Hill find out.”

“Ha, ha,” she stood and grabbed her book back. “It’s a good book. And before you say anything about ready YA books -”

“Let me know when you finish it.” She glared at him. “And then let me know when you get done with book two, I have thoughts.”

“You’ve read it?” She asked, tucking her feet under herself. “You don’t look like the kind of person to read YA novels. And you like one direction. If I weren’t so against the patriarchy, I’d make a joke about how your manhood is in danger of being taken away -”

“But?” Bucky smiled.

“But,” she continued but stopped herself.

“It’s kind of sexy, right?”

And there it was the cockiness. “Why are you being nice? Well, nicer.”

“I’m a nice person,” he insisted.

Y/n laughed; at first, it was fake, then it became uncontrollable. Her laughter died down to a giggle, and Bucky was giving her a look that she couldn’t quite put a name to.

“You might be able to be nice, but you’re not a nice person,” she told him.

“Says who?”

“You’re constantly yelling at my intern -”

“Our intern, and that’s what interns are for,” he said.

“You were incredibly rude to me our first day together,” she said. Bucky opened his mouth, but she cut him off, “And you haven’t been much nicer since. It’s weird when you’re nice. It feels like you want something from me. Do you want something from me?”

“What if I just want friendship from you?”

Y/n furrowed her brow.

“You don’t think we can be friends?” He asked.

“I don’t even know what that would look like. Besides, you would lose your edge if you weren’t fighting with me constantly. And then you would fall even further behind me than you already are.” She grinned at him.

“I supposed you’re right,” he said the words, but it didn’t sound like he meant them. He sank back into his chair. “So, you like space?”

“I’m trying to read.”

“Alright, go ahead and read. But we put our hatred towards each other on hold when you finish that book because I still want to talk to you about it.”

“I could get further along in this book if you were quiet,” she sang.

He chuckled, but he kept quiet. Y/n read as she read, she realized that she didn’t hate Bucky’s presence as much as normal.

* * *

“I think you like him,” Natasha said. She and Y/n laid in their beds. Natasha was slightly drunk, ok, more than slightly. “I think that you really like him, but you hide it behind hatred because you wouldn’t know how to handle rejection or acceptance.”

Y/n sat up in her bed, completely shocked. The rejection comment was expected, the acceptance one surprising and scarily accurate, but not when it came to Bucky Barnes.

“I do not like Bucky Barnes, I have no comment for the other accusation,” Y/n said as she settled back into her bed.

“Fine, you might not like him, but he likes you,” Natasha sang.

“You’re drunk, you’re tired, and you don’t know what you’re saying,” Y/n shook her head.

There was a lull, Y/n could hear the crickets outside. The silence lasted so long that Y/n started to drift off. She was almost entirely asleep when Natasha spoke,

“Bucky and I are friends, I know what I’m talking about,” she whispered.

Y/n was sure she was dreaming when Nat said it.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au

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multisfabulis · 3 years

Text

Wayfinder’s Voyage

Terrestrial (Chapter 2 | 2)

Word Count: 6427

Fun fact, the last part of this chapter was written and finished during Terraqua week on Twitter so this marks the second time I've written a fic for a ship and the ship week just happens to roll around when I get around to writing it. Maybe lightning will strike twice around this time next year!

While I was reading fics on AO3 over the past day, I noticed a couple things. One is that the two people I read the fics from put more thought into their works than I did and I spent a month and a half writing both these chapters. The other is that my interpretation of this ship is vastly different from others which isn't a bad thing! I think my years of writing my original ship of Verreth has gotten me to stay with the "slow" aspect of slowburn with plans of payoff being sometime in the future. I do plan on writing payoff for this ship someday, just at some point in the undetermind future!

One last thing is there's a timeline with this fic! It's not super necessary to know but for those wondering, there's 4 scenes in both chapters and it goes Aqua 1 > Terra 1 > T2 > A2 > A3 > T3 > A4 > T4. Hopefully, that's not confusing!

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

Today had been a good day, thought Terra as he headed towards the library. He was coming from Aqua’s room after finding that she wasn’t there and figured she’d be at the library studying. They’d finished their daily training earlier so he wanted to spend some time with her before evening rolled around. Besides, he wanted to thank her for helping him out with his magic skills, or lack thereof. It was only because of her guidance he was able to do what he did today.

He felt like he was in top form. He mastered new techniques for his Keyblade, learned to use some strong magic, and even earned Eraqus’ praise. This was honestly a great day and he wanted Aqua to partake in his revelry. She needed a break from studying anyway so this was as good a time as any.

He stepped inside the library through the grand set of double doors. Tall bookcases lined the walls from top to bottom, left to right. Sunlight poured in from the great western window, causing the tables sitting in the center to cast large shadows all across the tiled floor. He looked at where she usually sat and, while there was a stack of books and some paper lying on the table, she wasn’t there. That struck him as odd since she normally put things back where they belonged. If she wasn’t in her room or here, something must’ve happened.

He searched all over for her but he still couldn’t find her. There’s no way she left the Land of Departure so she had to be somewhere. The only place he hadn’t checked yet was the mountain, which he was unsure about. She never ventured far from the building and that was when she was outside but it was the best guess he had. He ran out the front door and down the stairs leading up.

He didn’t need to look very far. He found her sitting on the edge of the Forecourt with her knees drawn up to her chest, looking off into the horizon. This had happened enough times for him to know she was deep in thought over something. Whatever she was thinking about, it was affecting her to the point she wasn’t acting like her usual self and he couldn’t just ignore her.

She didn’t seem to acknowledge him when he sat down beside her. He decided to give her some time to see if she wanted to speak first. A moment or two of silence passed before it was made clear he had to be the one to break the ice. Starting off with a question looked to be the right way to go.

“Everything okay?”

He saw the corner of her mouth curve up into a tiny smile and she replied, “Yeah, I’m just…thinking.”

“About what?” he asked.

She leaned back and let her legs hang off the edge of the Forecourt. “The future, I guess.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Our future as Keyblade Masters, I mean.”

That caught him off-guard. She wasn’t one to worry about the future, least of all them becoming Masters. She never thought of it as an if, instead an expectation to meet one day, so to hear her say those words concerned him somewhat. The only possible explanation he could think of was that she was starting to doubt herself and her abilities as a Keyblade wielder.

Of course, that made no sense. Despite her modesty, she’s proven her strength and capabilities more times than he could remember to both him and their master, not to mention she had the heart to show for it. He had the confidence in believing she’d pass her exam with flying colors and become a pretty damn good Keyblade Master. Maybe she just needed to be reminded of that?

“Hey, if you’re worried about not becoming a Master, I don’t think you have any reason to,” he said in an attempt to reassure her. “Me and Master know you’ll ace your Mark of Mastery exam and---”

“You don’t understand, that’s exactly what I mean!” After shouting that, she leaned forwards and put her hands in her lap, keeping her eyes fixed on them. “Sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”

So he was wrong, which left him even more confused on what was going on than before. “Then what are you worried about?”

Breathing in deep, she answered with, “We said we’d become Masters together one day, right? But what happens if we don’t? What if only one of us passes and the other fails?”

“You mean, if you were to pass and I were to fail?” Was that really what she was tearing herself up over? It’s a possibility that’s stuck with him for a while now and, though he’d prefer it not happen at all, it wouldn’t bother him too much if it came true. “Well, if it happens, it happens. It’s not up to us on whether we become Masters or not, you know that.”

“But I don’t want to be the only one who passes.” She finally looked at him for the first time since this conversation began. “I don’t want to be a master without you, Terra.”

Her earnest sincerity flustered him, causing him to avert his eyes away from her gaze as his heart fluttered wildly about. There was a part of him that, admittedly, was touched by her devotion to him. It was just like her to want that and share the enjoyment of hitting that milestone together. But what kind of friend would he be if he let her give up on her dream? It may have been theirs all this time but she stood a real chance at getting it and she deserved it.

“Aqua, as much as I understand how you’re feeling, you shouldn’t pass up on being a Master for my sake,” he said, hoping that he was getting through to her. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“But I don’t want my title to come between us. I don’t want to lose you and I don’t want you to…” she trailed off. Looking her way revealed her hands to be clasped tightly together in her lap. Even without that little indicator, she didn’t need to finish for him to know what she meant.

He slowly reached over, took her hand in his, and held it to ease her shaking. “I could never hate you, Aqua. You’re my friend and I just want you to be happy.”

When she didn’t respond, he continued on, “That’s why I promise that, if you’re the only one of us who passes, I’ll support you 100% all the way.” He gave her hand a firm yet gentle squeeze. “I give you my word.”

She stiffened beside him yet she didn’t try to take her hand away. The only sound that broke through the quiet was the ambient noise surrounding them. He watched as her shoulders shook and she wiped unshed tears from the corners of her eyes. Even so, he could see a small smile on her face. Sometimes, all she needed to hear were words of encouragement, which he was more than happy to provide.

Eventually, she scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. Now it was his turn to act like he got hit with electricity. Before he could say or do anything more to react, she whispered:

“Thank you.”

He hoped she couldn’t see the defeated yet tender smile he had. There was a reason he felt something akin to fondness for her when she did something like this. He liked this part of her, even if it did leave him feeling like a fish out of water sometimes. He rested his cheek against her in an attempt to return her affection. Whether she’d realize that or not remained to be seen.

“You’re welcome.”

They stayed like that for as long as they could. From watching the sun set over the horizon to greeting the night sky together, they stayed. Their only witnesses were the stars above them as they twinkled in the darkness.

Terra let out a yawn as he walked down the corridor leading to his room. He had just gotten back from doing some late night training outside and wanted nothing more than to go to bed. It was tiring yet rewarding, which gave him hope he’d get stronger the longer he kept at it. If he had any chance at becoming a Keyblade Master, he figured this was his best shot.

It was when he was reaching the library he noticed it. A dull orange glow was emanating from the crack under the set of double doors, which he found to be strange because who could be in there at this late hour? Master would’ve already retired to his chambers earlier in the night so it had to be the only other person living here. Was she still studying, even with it being this late?

He pushed open the doors and stepped inside, his voice breaking the silence with a single call of her name. He didn’t get an answer and soon realized why. At the furthest table on the east side of the room, with stacks of book piled all around her, was a soundly asleep Aqua. The orange glow he saw before came from the small lamp sitting beside her just within hand’s reach.

A smile split across his face when he approached her. Her face was buried in an open book and she was holding a pencil in her hand, as if she was writing things down before falling asleep. He’d believe it too, what with all the papers scattered around the table that were full of extensive notes just from a cursory glance alone. It was honestly kinda adorable seeing her like this. He’d ponder on the question of what to do with her but asking himself that yet again would yield no answers.

Well, there was only one thing left for him to do. He slowly pulled her chair out, tensing up when it seemed she was stirring before relaxing. He set the pencil down beside a stack of books and carefully picked her up so as to not jostle her awake. This had practically become a routine at this point. Then he began the long trek of carrying her back to her room.

It wasn’t like this was his first time doing this sort of thing. If anything, he’s had to put her to bed more times than he could count lately. He didn’t mind helping her out every now and then but this was starting to turn into a problem. He hoped she wasn’t pushing herself too hard to the point of exhaustion. While her hardworking nature was a trait he greatly admired her for, it was a double-edged sword. He was worried that it’d lead her to an early grave if she didn’t slow down some.

There was little doubt in his mind she was running herself ragged. She trained and studied hard on a daily basis and that wasn’t even taking into account all the cooking, cleaning, and management of him she decided to put on her shoulders. She seemed more like a mother than a girl two years his junior. Just because she was his fellow apprentice didn’t mean she needed to bear so much responsibility. If only she'd take his words to heart instead of shrugging them off like she usually did.

They soon made it to her room. He opened the door and carefully maneuvered his way inside with her in his arms. There wasn’t much to remark on in here, aside from the organized tidiness of it all. It was something he always tried to strive for with his own room but he could never quite get on her level. He set her down on the bed, pulling the blanket up over her since it was around that time the weather cooled some. When it came time for him to leave, he left the room and shut the door but not before silently bidding her goodnight. If there was anything he wanted for her to have tonight, it was a restful night’s sleep.

Now what? Maybe it was perhaps a good idea to clean up her improvised office so it’d save her some time tomorrow. He knew her well enough to know she’d rush over to the library to do the exact same thing the moment she realized she woke up in bed and not there in her chair. It was the least he could do. With a weary sigh, he trudged back to the library, feeling that this was going to be a long night.

What if he became someone she wouldn’t need to look after anymore? Part of the reason why she didn’t put herself above others was because she was too busy taking care of everyone so it was up to him to lighten the load. If he could show her he’d be fine without her worrying, she might finally think of herself for once. The more he thought about it, the more right it felt. He was going to become a man who could be independent from her so she could get some well-needed rest. It was the best solution he had to this problem and he had to make it work.

Eventually, he was inside the library again and at her table. His first order of business was to put all the books back in their place, which meant taking apart the stacks, reading their titles, and searching the empty spots in the vast bookcases. Then the papers strewn about had to be organized and put somewhere she could easily see tomorrow. Oh, tonight was going to be a long night, indeed.

The first few books were easy to find and return. It was when he got to the more complicated ones he had to do a double-take because these were advanced. These were books he was absolutely positive they didn’t need to learn from but she certainly was, if her notes were anything to go by. Just flipping through the pages let him see how complex and intricate everything was for an apprentice to learn yet she made it seem so simple, so straightforward. He had to give Aqua major props for understanding all this since he sure as hell couldn’t.

Her intelligence was just one of her many amazing qualities. There was her strength, her kindness, her selflessness, her ambition, her determination, even her modesty, although he wished she’d realize the praise heaped upon her by both him and their master was rightfully earned instead of it being said for niceties’ sake. She was a person he was proud to call his friend and he had all the confidence to believe she’d be a superb Keyblade Master. Admiration didn’t come close to how he felt towards her yet it was a small step before falling into adoration.

He’s known for a while he’d developed feelings for her. It was hard to pinpoint when he became so enamored with her but the way he’s viewed her definitely changed the more they aged. She stopped being a friend a long time ago and was turning into a girl he may or may not have been falling in love with. Everything on that front was a mess of jumbled up knots that would take forever to unravel. His method of dealing with these was to express them quietly, convey them in a way she wouldn’t suspect there being something deeper. He had no idea of when or even if he’d confess because he wasn’t sure there’d ever be a right time.

Now definitely wasn’t the best time. They needed to focus on their exam and romance should be the last thing on either of their minds. Even the future didn’t seem certain, what with the choice they were supposed to make when they did surpass the rank of apprentice. One would stay and succeed their master while the other would travel to other worlds to protect them from invading Heartless. He didn’t go further down that depressing train of thought. He had plenty of time to decide on when would be good so he didn’t need to worry too much on it.

Maybe he could tell her when he became independent from her. The day she realized she wouldn’t have to look after him anymore, he’d tell her. That sounded right. It was still a far off dream but it was a dream he could see now.

He’d wait for that day, no matter how long it took. A part of him almost wanted to believe he was looking forward to it.

Terra ran inside the ravine, looking behind him to see if the Unversed would dare follow him in. The twisters carrying them still raged on outside and he hoped they’d stay out there. He kept his Keyblade trained at the entrance, ready to defend himself at a moment’s notice. He waited and waited till it became clear they weren’t in hot pursuit of him for him to dismiss his Keyblade, thanking whatever higher power there was for the brief respite.

The only relatively safe place he had was further inside the ravine. He began walking, running a hand alongside the wall to help keep himself steady as the world spun around him and his body ached. It was about halfway through he collapsed from the exhaustion, falling to his knees while struggling to breathe. He needed to take a break. If he went into battle like this, he would surely lose. He shifted himself into a sitting position and leaned his back against the wall, closing his eyes.

How did it all end up like this? The dream he worked so hard to achieve, his lifelong dream of becoming a Keyblade Master, slipped from his grasp just when he thought he could reach it. Ven, the boy he saw as a little brother, the friend he swore to protect, was being hunted down by an entity who meant him harm and would stop at nothing to ensure his demise. Aqua would want nothing to do with him after she found out what had happened and he wouldn’t blame her for washing her hands of him. That was if she hadn’t done so already. Then their master, the man they all saw and looked up to as a father figure, he…

His eyes burned with tears threatening to spill over. He never hated Eraqus, they may have argued at times but he never hated him. He took him, Aqua, and Ven in, raised them as if they were his own, and only wanted what was best for them. Sure, he wasn’t perfect but what parent was? He may have fought him and Ven earlier but he showed genuine regret and wanted to make amends to them both. Terra didn’t want to hurt him, he was just trying to protect his friend, so why? Why did he have to die? He didn’t deserve such a fate, especially one dealt to him by his apprentice and former friend’s hand. If only he could rewind time and try to reason with him, try to undo his death so they wouldn’t have the grief of losing him weighing on their minds. Yet he had no such power so it became another sin he put on his cross to bear.

How was he going to explain what happened to Ven? The last time they saw each other was when he cast him out the portal before fighting with their master. He was still alive, that much Terra knew, but he didn’t know where he ended up at. The one thing he had to know, though, was why Ven was willing to die by Eraqus’ hand. It wasn’t like he had done anything wrong so why? He didn’t understand what his friend’s death would accomplish, not like he wanted to if it did at any rate. When he eventually learned of the aftermath of that fight, Terra worried it might break him, if everything up to this point hadn’t already. A part of him almost believed Ven would revert back to the despondent boy he was when they first met and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover from that. It was a miracle he did over the past four years but this time…

Then there was Aqua. With how he managed to royally screw things up with her, he had no one but himself to blame. He treated her so awfully, from the hearing of their exam results to their short-lived reunion in Radiant Garden. His first mistake was breaking his promise to her, which was to support her in the event she was the only one to pass and become Master, and she must’ve felt so horrible about it. It wasn’t that he was angry at her for passing, he was just upset at the whole situation that it buried the happiness he felt for her at finally achieving her dream. Then he lashed out at her after it came out she was sent by their master to watch over him to make sure he didn’t succumb to the temptation of darkness. It hurt enough to think Eraqus didn’t trust him but to believe she didn’t, either? Yet they were right. He was led astray so easily and they were all suffering for the consequences of his actions now.

Everything, all of it, was his fault. If he wasn’t so trusting, if he just asked the right questions, if he wasn’t so weak, none of this would’ve happened. Xehanort preyed on his insecurities, attempted to turn him against his friends, and used him to kill the man he considered his father. Now he was going to destroy what was left of his family, along with Vanitas, and he didn’t know what to do. He only knew how to fight but would it be enough to save them? Or would it lead them all to their deaths? All he wanted was to go back to the night he, Aqua, and Ven shared under the starry sky back home, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that would befall them. Was that too much to ask?

Tears slid down his cheeks as he teetered on the edge of despair. Everything was just so twisted, so hopeless. What chance did the three of them have against a seasoned Keyblade Master and his loyal guard dogs? They might as well have been heading straight to their deaths with all the worlds falling into darkness as their consolation prize in this battle disguised as a cruel game. He was scared to die, scared of death and whether an afterlife really existed after passing on from one plane to the next. He didn’t want to die but it came for everyone at the end, regardless of their desires.

Well, if he was going to die anyway, he’ll go out protecting his friends. This was his mess to clean up so he should be the one to fix it. Besides, this might be the only way for him to atone for his sins, right the wrongs he made. If Aqua and Ven could live out the rest of their days free from any danger that would harm them, then he’d face his death with dignity.

With his energy replenished, he stood up and looked towards the exit. He hadn’t been this far into the Badlands so he had no idea of what awaited him at the other end of the ravine. He walked on and on till he came out and stopped. The sight that laid before him rendered him speechless.

Hundreds upon hundreds of Keyblades stuck up out of the ground like markers and something resembling a crossroads cut through all of them. It was then he realized what this place truly was. This was where thousands of Keyblade wielders fought against each other in order to summon Kingdom Hearts, the conflict better known as the Great Keyblade War. These Keyblades represented, or what was left of, the people that fell in the battle, where they would rest for all eternity. How fitting then it was to die here at this scarred wasteland of a graveyard among the warriors of old. Would he meet the same fate as his predecessors did all those years ago?

At the eastern end of the crossroads was Aqua. Their eyes met and hers held a quiet fury in them he had never seen before. They both walked down the paths ahead of them till they reached the intersection, where he could see her clearly now. There were healing cuts and bruises all across her body, no doubt from the countless battles she faced while on her journey, and there was a hidden sadness behind the anger. She knew and nothing he could say or do would make it all right. He was fully prepared for the emotional lashing her words would deliver unto him.

She didn’t disappoint, laying into him all the pain and misery he brought to her, culminating in her placing blame of their master’s death onto his shoulders. She was particularly close to him so the news had to have hit her hard. Her eyes glistened with tears as he stayed silent and she demanded answers from him, almost begging him to say anything to defend himself. It hurt to hear her voice waver, knowing she was trying and failing to hold back the emotion. She didn’t deserve this. She deserved so much better than this. What kind of man was he, to cause the woman he loved so much pain and not be able to fix it?

Ven appeared at the southern end of the crossroads. Soon as they both saw him, they exchanged a look and approached him. It was like an unspoken rule that, whatever was happening between them, it came second to Ven. He was their top priority and nothing could be any more important than him. That was the one thing they could agree on unanimously. He seemed just as tired as they were, though it was clear something was weighing heavily on him, evident by how he couldn’t look at them at all. Concern gave way to dread when he told them the reason behind his woe.

He and Vanitas were to fuse together and create the X-blade so that Xehanort could use it to summon Kingdom Hearts and reset the universe. He wanted there to be a balance between Light and Dark, which this supposed reset would bring. That’s why Ven was willing to die by Eraqus’ hand. His death would foil Xehanort’s plan and potentially take out Vanitas along with him. Terra felt time stop when Ven asked him and Aqua to end him. How could he ask such a thing from him? He already lost their master, he couldn’t bear to lose what was left of his family.

Before any more could be said, they were at the northern end. Xehanort, Vanitas, and that man he fought back in Radiant Garden. It seemed like an evenly numbered match but power had to be wildly scaled between the six of them. The final battle was here, Light vs Dark, the victor left up to chance. He, Aqua, and Ven all summoned their Keyblades and rushed in.

His target was Xehanort, the mastermind behind everything. There was no way in hell he was going to let him get away with his crimes. He manipulated him to do his bidding, killed the man that was once a former friend to him, and would kill his loved ones if he didn’t stop him here. He swore he’d protect them till the very end, to his last breath, and he planned on upholding that vow.

He would set things right.

Terra’s eyes fluttered open to rays of light filtering through the curtains of the window, telling him it was early morning. He was on a bed, soft one at that, in a room he didn’t recognize slowly becoming bathed in sunlight. The room was like any others he’d been in before. Where was he?

Only once it sank in did he begin to panic. He was in an unfamiliar room and he was out for what felt like an eternity. He couldn’t let this rare opportunity go to waste, he needed to reach out to someone for help before Xehanort attempted to shut him inside that place again. It didn’t matter who, it just had to be someone who’d listen to him and not think he was crazy. He tried to sit up but found he couldn’t. There were two weights on either side of him keeping him trapped there on the bed. Did Xehanort count for something like this happening and put measures in place so he couldn’t wander around freely? Whatever the case may be, he had to break out while he still had the chance and find help.

It was then the memories of yesterday started to come to him. There was a big battle between Darkness and Light and those on the side of Light won. His heart was freed, the man possessing his body had been driven out, and he was reunited with his two dear friends. He looked down, as if to confirm that what happened did happen, and saw Aqua and Ven soundly asleep beside him. The anxiety that had seized him vanished, becoming replaced with relief and an exhausted sort of happiness he hadn’t felt in such a long time.

It was liberating to be back in control of his body and his life. No voice in his head, no feeling like a passenger as someone else piloted him, he was himself again for the first time in forever. No longer would he worry if he was allowed to be out or if it was another one of Xehanort’s psychological games of war. No more losing fights for control as more and more of his identity was stripped away. He was Terra, he reclaimed himself, and he wouldn’t let anyone take that away from him again.

A soft smile spread across his face as he watched them sleep. His grip on them tightened ever so slightly, thankful to be able to bask in this moment. They saved him, even when they were knocked down over and over, almost dying in the process. They all fought so hard to reach each other and their efforts were rewarded with a tearful yet happy reunion. He’d cherish that memory till the end of time. He almost lost them once and he’ll be damned if anything ever came between them again.

They had lots of work ahead of them. An entire decade passed them by in ways no one should ever have to experience. While he was vaguely aware of the passage of time during his drifts in and out of consciousness, it still felt like only days since everything in their journeys happened. All they had were fragments of the lives they led, of worlds left forgotten, to help them start anew.

Ven might have the easiest time adjusting to the changes. He spent those eleven years sleeping in the Land of Departure, though that wasn’t quite right. His body stayed safe at home while his heart slumbered within another. He was never in the line of danger, Aqua made sure of that. He befriended lots of people during his trip around the worlds so they were certain to be of big help to him. It’d be hard but he’d adapt quickly, Terra just knew it.

Speaking of which, he might have a more difficult time. Pieces of him were scattered across different forms throughout the years so he needed to relearn what being himself was like again. Parts of what made him Terra had changed so much from how they were before, they could no longer apply to him now. He was, in some ways, a new person and he would never be the same man he was. He was going to be doing lots of soul-searching in the foreseeable future. His only hope was that he would like the person at the end of the tunnel.

Then there was Aqua. She definitely had it the roughest out of them all and for very good reason. She traversed through the Realm of Darkness, fighting for her life while struggling to keep her inner demons at bay. She was only there in the first place because she sacrificed herself for him, which he planned on speaking to her about at some point in the near future. They met only the one time last year and their reunion was cut short by Xehanort seizing his chance to continue on with the creation of the X-blade. She needed to learn she’d be safe, that nothing would come and kill her if she wasn’t vigilant enough and whatnot. Her time in that hellish wasteland left her with deep-seated scars she may never fully heal from. He and Ven would help her with whatever she needed, whether it be supporting her at every step of the way or by simply listening to her. She wouldn’t go through this alone.

None of them came out unscathed by their ordeals. Although it would take them some time to truly recover, both physically and mentally, it really helped to know they weren’t alone in this. They still did and always would have each other but they now had their newly-found friends to lean on for support whenever they needed it. It was kinda hard for him to wrap his head around just how many people would be there for them, especially him. Their master was gone now but there was no doubt in his mind he’d still watch over his apprentices from wherever he went. Their new life might be scary yet it already looked so bright.

His eyes wandered over to Aqua again. He wanted to set things right with her, especially after all the pain he caused her. An apology for breaking his promise was the first step in the right direction. Then he was going to become someone she wouldn’t feel the need to look after anymore. It was because of him she ended up in the Realm of Darkness so he thought it’d be only fair to help her focus on herself for a change. She was a Master now and he was planning on catching up to her as soon as he could. That was a promise he intended to keep.

When was he going to tell her? He originally wanted to do it when he became independent from her but his time away from people had taught him some important life lessons to remember. Loved ones were here only as long as they needed to be and time spent with them should never be taken for granted, like he had with Eraqus. He didn’t want to leave things unsaid between them, in the event that something happened and he was left unable to say what he wanted. They weren’t ready for that sort of relationship yet so he’d keep his cards close to his chest for just a little longer. Once they were in a better place and had worked through some of their issues, then he’d confess. Who knows if she’d return them?

He couldn’t quite pin down when his feelings for her deepened into what they were now. He only really realized it when they were in the Keyblade Graveyard before their paths split apart so it was hard to say. What he did know, however, was that she became such an irreplaceable constant in his life. She was someone he confided in, someone who always thought the better of him, a light in the darkness that plagued him. She was his anchor, his dearly beloved. She became his Wayfinder, guiding him until he was back home to her and Ven.

The whisper of three little words broke through the silence. He wasn’t able to admit it to himself back then but he now had a voice to vocalize them with. He hoped his feelings would reach her heart.

“I love you.”

#airi's writing #terraqua #fanfiction #kingdom hearts #canon divergence

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whattodowithace · 3 years

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Drinking With Cupid Part I (Chan)

Title: Drinking With Cupid Part I

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Genre: Angst; Fluff

Word Count: 5,159 Words (all parts)

Writer: Whattodowithkpop [Lio]

A/N: I think I have seen a movie or tv show with a similar concept to this, but if I have, I don't remember for certain. I was also inspired by the song 'Drinking With Cupid' by VOILÀ. This is for the @acewriters writing event.

*****

Half of the world lives in committed bliss, thriving with their significant others, some with children as they live their life in a happy family unit. The other half were not tied down, either living alone or even still living with mom and dad in their basement for the ease and convince. It's hard to find love, even in a world littered with dating apps and websites, it would seem as if finding a partner would be much easier.

Here at Cupid, we don't agree with the apps and websites philosophy. Running numbers is a much more efficient way of finding love with much more ease and much less heartbreak. Sure, there are some adults who prefer to stay single and plan to be that way for a long time, to those we applaud and root for as they follow their dreams. For the millions who long to find love, however, we have your solution. Cupid was founded by its CEO, who went by the name Cupid, back in 2018, and since then has been working on matchmaking software that outshines even the best dating websites and apps. His software is nearly perfect down to the final .%, ensuring an airtight compatibility that has successfully matched thousands of happy couples since its launch in 2019. The future is bright for Cupid, with more and more matches being made the more accurate the percentages are becoming. All you need to do is go by Cupid Incorporated to get your numbers in our system and from their we will do the rest.

Chan walks along the floor, surrounded by hundreds of guests that had come to celebrate Cupid's two year anniversary. He was the founder of this algorithm, however he remains anonymous by his own will, knowing some people wouldn't be thrilled about the idea of this type of system for matchmaking. Chan had started this project after he had many failed relationships. Some only lasted a few weeks and ended without much attachment, however, there were some relationships that were lengthy and caused deep scaring on his heart when they ended. That's when he thought of this idea, of matchmaking based on numbered compatibility. He wanted to find the one he would match with, the one that would make him happy without having to go through the tragic relationships that were doomed for failure from the start.

Eventually, he became consumed with this project, abandoning dating altogether and harvesting a desire to perfect this algorithm. He didn't look for love anymore and soon, his desire for true love dwindled and was replaced by the success that Cupid started bringing him. When Cupid became big, he was running compatibility numbers all day, hundreds of numbers running matches and placing people together where more than 94% of matches were successful to lifelong companionship.

Chan, now a young adult well on his way to become one of the biggest entrepreneurs in the world, filled his pleasures elsewhere, his money getting him anything he wanted to which he used to fill up his free time. Here he was, at the anniversary party for his company, a hidden alter ego amongst the crowd, no one having the faintest clue as to how powerful he was. He quite enjoyed it, it was how he got most of his biggest investors was undercover work like this, plus without all the press. However, chatting with these rich powerful people in one room was something that became exhausting in a rather quick manner. He would wander off into a quiet space, taking a large allotted time to recuperate from the tiring chats.

On one of his getaways, he escaped to the hallways of the auditorium his company booked for the party. The spacious hallways carried the echos of his footsteps down the entirety of the hallway, alerting anyone, if there, that he was walking down the corridor. That meant he was also able to hear footsteps if there happened to be a soul walking through the same halls and, coincidently, there was. The sharp, quick sounds were easy to deduct that the person was, most likely, a female wearing a thin high heel and walking at a quick pace back to the party area. Chan felt a rush of excitement at the small mystery he had encountered in the hallway. It wasn't big like a robbery or a murder, but for what was going on in the room behind him, this was an exciting change of pace.

Chan, however, was not ready for this mystery to be reveled to him, the figure making his heart stop for a few seconds, before beating in an irregular pattern. His throat went dry, his palms sweaty and his knees weak, his mind blanking as the woman he had hypothesized rounded the corner. However, he didn't hypothesize her to be stunning in every way, an enchantress of his body approaching him faster than he could prepare.

When she saw him her head tilted in confusion, she didn't expect to see someone else in this quiet hallway. As she approached him, Chan felt as time had stopped when she stood in front of him, her smile radiant as it beamed at him.

"I'm looking for the Cupid anniversary party, I got dropped off at the wrong entrance." Her voice was soothing, something Chan could listen to all day without getting bored.

He hadn't realized how long he had been staring, until she asked the question again with a nervous laugh, the awkward tension building the longer he stayed silent.

"Oh!" He exclaims, a bright blush creeping onto his cheeks and ears as he scratches the back of his head. "It's just down this hallway, the party is behind the yellow doors you can't miss them."

She smiles with a small laugh, nodding in understanding. "Thank you."

Chan watches her begin to walk away, towards the direction he had just came. It takes him a second before he comes to his senses, walking to catch up with her until he walks beside her.

"Would it be okay if I accompanied you to the party? I wouldn't want you to walk by yourself, especially since you already got dropped off at the wrong entrance."

She looks over to him, her smile reaching her eyes and making Chan's heart spin.

"That would be great, thank you."

The two walk back to the party, their conversation engaging and never finding a dull moment. Even during the party, the pair stayed close by, engaging in many more conversations as the evening continued. Chan was smitten and he knew it. All the plans he had for years to come flew out the window as he talked to her more, finding her funny and adorable making him fall for her more as the sun set in the sky. It was the end of the night when they, finally, had a moment alone with most of the guests having left he could hear her with more clarity.

"Are you here to invest in Cupid?" Chan asks, his nerves high as it was a personal question especially in this line of business.

"Oh, I'm not an investor." She smiles as she looks out the giant windows the venue had, the stars beginning to emerge from the darkness of the night sky. "I actually have my numbers in Cupid's system. I wasn't exactly invited personally, I only wanted to hear more about Cupid's algorithm."

As the secret host of the party, Chan normally would've been annoyed by this intrusion, however in this case, he was ecstatic over her sneaking in this way. He was also elated to hear her numbers were in the system, even though he had a policy for himself that he couldn't use the numbers for his own benefit, he was excited to hear she didn't hate the algorithm.

He was thrown off guard when she asked him the same question, his nerves skyrocketing as he hadn't prepared a cover story, most investors just wanted to talk about themselves and money so they never asked for his specifics. In his panicked state, he blurted the first thing that came to his mind.

"I'm Cupid's brother." Chan trails off, watching as her face shows a range of emotions.

"Wait, you know Cupid?" She asks in excitement, making Chan feel a bout of anger for his imaginary brother she asked about with such excitement.

"I do." He says, his response short and annoyed.

"That must be interesting. Especially, with how his brain works to where it was able to create an algorithm such as Cupid."

Chan realized how idiotic it was, feeling jealousy over himself because he panicked and told a lie, however he couldn't help it as he watched her talk about another guy the way she was talking about Cupid.

"Yea, he is really smart." Chan mumbles, watching as she turns to face him.

"I'm sure you hear that a lot, so I would rather talk about you." She smiles, her body turned towards his, giving him her full attention.

Chan smiles, feeling butterflies in his stomach as she looks at him waiting for him to tell his story. Chan felt those butterflies drop, however, when he realized he was Cupid and to tell her about himself would mean he'd have to talk about his imaginary brother.

"It's getting really late." Chan notes as he sees the sun sinking below the horizon. "What if I took you to dinner sometime and we can continue our conversation."

The woman smiles, her bottom lip hiding behind her teeth to try to surppress her smile. "I would really like that, yeah."

The two exchanged numbers before exchanging goodbyes, each leaving their own way after exiting the venue. Chan felt a surge in his heart, a feeling he never felt before in any relationship he has ever been in. It felt like there was a spark between the two of them, sending jolts of excitement through his body. He went home, his first call to one of his good friends, Donghun, as he told him about the girl that had caught his attention. Donghun expressed excitement for his friend, however, felt an uneasiness about the situation, warning Chan to proceed with caution in this relationship. In his state, Chan missed the warning, telling Donghun he needed to go think up a cover story for him to tell her when they went to dinner, making Donghun feel even more uneasy as they said their goodbye's.

On the other side of the city, she arrived home, calling one of her good friends as well to tell him about the man she met. However, her conversation had a little different feeling than Chan's. Her friend, Byeongkwan, was her confidant in her elaborate plan to take down Cupid and his algorithm. Her numbers were in the Cupid database, yes, however she had already been matched. She was matched with a man who's numbered compatibility was high with hers, they dated for three years, hundreds of memories made together and loved poured into each other. It was two months before their wedding, both having gone to their respected parties and planning on sleeping apart that night as they were expecting to be too far gone to both make it home. That night she found him with another woman, in their shared bed. She was heartbroken, having poured two years of her love and life into this man all based on numbers calculated on a computer made her bitter at the world. Thus began her plan for revenge. She didn't have much of a plan, only knowing she wanted to end Cupid for good, not wanting anyone else to continue dating someone because their numbers were compatible, that wasn't how you found love.

Byeongkwan was her friend that helped her through her breakup, one that took a long time to recoup from. He didn't agree 100% with her plan, however, it was what got her off his couch and back to her life, so he didn't want to send her back into her lethargic way just because he disagreed with her motives. So he listened to her that night, her telling him about the man she met that was related to Cupid and how she planned to get some information about him through Chan. However, something had Byeongkwan smirking on the other side of the phone. She talked about 'using' this Chan character, however she had a lot of sweet things to say about him and expressed countless times how much she enjoyed his company. Before they ended their call Byeongkwan asked her if she would go on the date, to which she replied with an immediate 'yes'. Byeongkwan, relieved, bid her a goodnight and congratulated her on finding someone who could help advance her in her tale for revenge.

Byeongkwan was surprised to receive a call the next night, his clock showing almost midnight when her caller I.D flashed across the screen. He was even more surprised to hear they had already been on their date and to keep adding to the surprises, she didn't mention Cupid once. The only thing she talked about was Chan and his goofy personality that she found adorably alluring. Byeongkwan couldn't help but feel relief hearing her talk about a man this way again, a man that sounded good for her and one who wouldn't end up breaking her heart. Byeongkwan knew you couldn't base a character purely on second hand accounts from one date, however everyone starts somewhere and this Chan fellow was starting out right in Byeongkwan's book.

Yet again, on the other side of the city, Chan had called Donghun to tell him about the date. Donghun was elated Chan had found someone he really liked, someone that seemed to compliment him well, however one thing still plagued Donghun's mind that he couldn't let go of.

"She doesn't know you're Cupid." Donghun's solemn voice travels into Chan's ear and makes the boy's cheery smile drop.

"I'll tell her eventually." Chan promises his friend, his tone quiet from how it usually was.

"I don't want to see you put it off so long that a small, white lie becomes a regret."

"I know, I know. I promise I'll tell her soon."

~ Next Part

A.C.E MASTERLIST

#acewriters #recoromanwrites #a.c.e #a.c.e chan #a.c.e x reader #a.c.e chan x reader #a.c.e fanfic #a.c.e imagine #ace #ace chan #ace x reader #ace chan x reader #ace imagine #ace fanfiction #whattodowithkpop writings

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years

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Lie Alone

A/N In commenting on the last installment in the Metric universe, I said that Jamie’s date with Claire was complete dating wish fulfillment on my part. Which got me thinking about their next date and what other personal preferences I could cram into this story. And yet it’s definitely Claire’s turn to take Jamie for a spin, which meant that... well, you’ll see!

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

The song by Blanco White (another guest artist!) that inspired the title and which features in the fic can be heard here: https://youtu.be/SNp7sb5vXTs

Big shout out to @holdhertightandsayhername, who introduced me to this artist in her marvelous fic The Sands of Time.

June 21, 2018, London, England

Sassench: Do you have plans later Fraser?

Wee Fox Cub: depends r u making a better pffer?

Sassench: Meet me out front at Joe’s. 5pm.

Wee Fox Cub: :thumbs up emoji:

Sassench: And Jamie? Wear something tight. Preferably leather.

Wee Fox Cub: ...

***

He couldn’t imagine what Claire had in mind, but he’d cancelled his plans to watch the England South Africa test match with the lads and was instead haunting the kerb in front of her temporary lodging, wearing fitted black jeans and his leather jacket, despite the sunny mid-summer weather. When his date hadn’t emerged from the building by 4:05, he pulled out his phone. An approaching mechanical thrum interrupted him mid-text.

The first thing he noticed were her boots: black, with a thick rubber sole and chunky heel. These were zipped over leather pants that clung to her coltish legs like a second skin, matching the matte gleam of the motor between them. A leather jacket, the tailored twin of his own, hugged her narrow waist. By the time his eyes had scrolled upward, a visored helmet was being removed, and Claire’s familiar hair and teasing brass eyes appeared.

“You’re staring, Jamie,” she remarked. The fact that the voice was his roommate’s usual no-nonsense tone, seasoned with a touch of humour, was a necessary dash of reality.

“Aye,” he admitted. “Tis a verra beautiful... machine ye’re ridin’, Sassenach. Is it yers?”

Her curls danced in the sunlight as she shook them out.

“God, no. Joe only let me borrow it after I promised to cover his next two on-call shifts. But don’t worry! I practically grew up on a motorcycle. I’ve had my license since I was sixteen.”

He filed this information away in the cluttered part of brain entitled Things I Never Expected to Learn about Claire Beauchamp. Accepting a second helmet, he swung himself onto the seat behind her. His legs bracketed her hips in an unfamiliar, but by no means unpleasant, inversion. Claire revved the motor, sending a shiver up his spine. His arms wrapped around her waist, and they pulled into the slow flow of traffic.

“Comfy?” Her voice startled him, low and intimate, coming from directly behind his ear. He realized belatedly that the helmets were furnished with a communications system.

“Aye,” he asserted, although comfortable wasn’t exactly the word he’d use for his current state. Somewhere between apprehensive and exhilarated would be more accurate. “Will we make it tae our destination afore sundown, do ye think?”

She chuckled warmly, reaching back with one hand to tap him on the knee.

“Never you fear, my lad. I have our urban escape route all planned out. We’ll be flying in no time.”

She wasn’t wrong. After a series of abrupt stops and starts, they dipped below the Thames in a well-lit tunnel, the echo of passing lorries muting all other sound. Soon after that they were picking up speed on a wide motorway, the bike crouching against the wind. He watched the throbbing mass of the city peel away, slowly giving way to greenery and the pastel light he associated with freedom. He thought they were heading south along the Orbital into Surrey, but beyond that he had no notion of their whereabouts.

Giving himself up into her care, he settled against Claire’s back, the crescent of her arse fitting neatly into the bowl of his thighs. He was aware of being aroused, but it was a hazy rather than a sharp feeling, blunted by contentment. If Claire was offended by the firmness pressing into her rump, she gave no sign.

After several hours of almost meditative motion, they turned onto a country lane, overhung by a leafy canopy. Tidy Tudor buildings overlooked the road, their leaden windows glowing orange in the setting sun. Their motorcycle joined a parade of vehicles ascending a low hill in a series of sharp turns. Each time the bike navigated one of these, he was forced to tighten his grip on Claire’s torso, which by now felt like an extension of his own body. He glowed like one of those panes of glass, molten and reflecting back the warmth that radiated from the core of who she was.

The forest thinned into green hillside as they reached a parking lot. He couldn’t help but feel disappointment as he observed the crowds. Wherever they were, it was obviously a popular destination. On the bike, he’d felt peculiarly isolated, alone with Claire, their conversation eased by the intermediary of the microphones. Now he’d have to share her with the world.

He groaned as he unfolded his long legs to stand upright, and Claire grinned.

“They don’t make motorcycles in your size, I’m afraid.”

“An’ wha’ size is that, Sassenach?” he hummed suggestively while stretching his arms high above his head, untucking his shirt in the process.

Claire’s eyes dipped to where his belly was briefly exposed, then lower.

“Large,” was her bold answer, and he shot her a wickedly pleased glance.

After a beat she visibly gathered herself, reaching into the storage compartment behind where he had been sitting and pulling out a small bag and his plaid, which had somehow stayed in her possession after the fire.

“Are you up for a short hike?”

“For ye, Sassenach, anything.”

They meandered through an oak wood, then up a series of crude steps, until finally arriving on a grassy slope, the land falling away steeply to the south. Low ridges and shallow valleys furled below them like gentle waves, reaching out to the horizon where the sun was preparing to set. The air was fragrant, the ground releasing the heat of the day.

“One of my many boarding schools wasn’t far from here,” Claire explained as she spread the blanket near their feet. “I must have been fourteen or so, and having a terrible time fitting in. Uncle Lamb came to visit, probably at the headmaster’s behest, and this is where he took me. I don’t remember what he said, but by the time we left, I felt better. More at peace. In lockstep with the larger order of things. I’ve come back, now and then. Any time I needed to find that feeling again.”

As she spoke, Claire emptied the small bag of its contents. He recognized the logo from a deli they both frequented on two wrapped sandwiches, along with a pint of strawberries, some crisps, a lemonade and a bottle of his favourite summer ale. She’d thought of everything, and it snagged at his heart.

“Tis bonnie. I’m honoured ye wanted tae share it with me, Sassenach.”

They ate slowly, savouring the simple meal as the sky above their heads smudged from orange to pink to ever-deepening shades of purple. One by one, the stars twinkled to life, like so many travelers lighting their fires for the night. Away from the city, they numbered in the thousands, each a signpost on someone’s journey. His mind spread out to fill the space between them, taking his thoughts to Lallybroch, moments from his youth long forgotten, the steadying hand of his parent’s guidance. Claire was right. Something about the place invited serenity. He sighed with pleasure, tension he hadn’t even acknowledged draining slowly down his spine.

Claire’s hand crept across the blanket, and their pinkie fingers met, then overlapped. As the air around them cooled, the breeze picked up, and he felt her shiver.

“Ye’re cold. We should be on our way, aye?”

“Wait. There’s one more thing I want you to see.”

He could think of several more things he wanted to see, but they were well hidden by leather and her guarded nature. He’d known when he proposed this season of courtship that the road to Claire’s heart would be long and arduous, with many twists and lay-bys. There could be no rushing the voyage. He was confident the destination, should he be granted entry, would be worth any hardship. And thankfully the views along the way were spectacular in their own right.

He’d been watching her profile out of the corner of his eye when the horizon burst into multi-coloured song. Purple starbursts and red streamers exploded across a black canvas, followed by a pulsing yellow orb. In the milliseconds before his consciousness caught up with the evidence, he was captivated. Then he physically recoiled, expecting pain in the form of a cascade of memories. Instead, the symphony of light continued without a sound. He looked at Claire in awe.

“The wind is to the north, so it’s blowing the sound in the other direction. I checked before I picked you up,” she explained.

The fireworks continued for another ten or fifteen minutes. He’d never be quite sure, because he was lost in sensation. The beautiful display was completely over-shadowed by the beauty of the woman beside him, her tiny finger still laced with his own.

“Ye ken tis I who’s supposed tae be courtin’ ye, don’t ye, Sassenach?” he commented when a final fury of light gave way once again to stars.

“Says who?” she sniffed, but he could see the corner of her mouth twitch upwards.

After performing a mental inventory of any and all physical impediments, he leaned slowly into her side, his intention unmistakable. His heart thrilled when Claire met him halfway, her mouth damp and tart from the lemonade. It was a kiss that walked the boundary between chaste and sensual, and he wished it could last forever.

“Thank ye, Claire. Truly.”

At a loss for words for once, she dipped her head in acknowledgement. They silently gathered their things and walked hand-in-hand to the bike.

The ride back to London was swift, with music taking the place of conversation. A particularly beautiful song, poetic and wistful, left him feeling that Claire was speaking to him through its words; words she could not yet find the courage to say. Accompanied by only a single guitar, a male voice rose in wistful intensity.

So I lie alone, and risk each night, I long to let you in But there's a life I lost, drifted out, before You let me in.

His fingers found their way beneath her jacket and rested on the warm skin of her belly. He felt her soft skin give a shudder, like a ripple of wind across the still surface of a pond.

The motorway ribboned out beneath them. The journey had only just begun.

Because this is a multi-disciplinary blog, here’s a shot of the view that Jamie and Claire enjoyed in this fic, which is Box Hill in Surrey (taken from Google Earth, as I’ve never been).

And here’s Claire’s bike!

#my writing #outlander

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grimmgora-gaming · 3 years

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☆ An honest review of the New Pokemon Snap ☆

I didn't really go into this game with the same nostalgia factor as so many others. At risk of showing my age here, I remember renting the original from Blockbuster as a kid & thinking it was boring.

But it did strike my curiosity, which slowly grew into the "hype" zone as the release date grew closer. It was a familiar feeling, because its basically the same kind of hype I felt towards Animal Crossing New Horizons last year. I also hadn't played that one as a kid, but was still curious about the franchise. Since then I've dropped around 1000 hours into ACNH.

I almost skipped out on purchasing the New Pokemon Snap on release day, but because of this I decided to go for it. And I haven't been disappointed.

Being both a gamer & an artist, I adore games that allow you to exercise your creativity, & that's something both ACNH & Pokemon Snap sucked me in with (on top of being adorable as shit.... of course, Pokemon being a franchise I've loved since age 6 doesn't hurt at all.... if you haven't been clued in by my Blockbuster comment, I'm almost 30...)

Now, I doubt It'll rival ACNH total playtime, or even Pokemon Shield's total (I'm currently sitting at about 245 hours on that one) but I didn't expect it would. Pokemon games always have fairly short, not very in depth stories, even the main games don't really deliver longevity on that front.

The hours come from how much time I can spend grinding & fulfilling my little completionist, post-game loving heart. & on that front, Pokemon Snap brings the goods. With around 200 pokemon to photograph in 4 separate tiers, each with their own individual ranking system of bronze to diamond tier stars, chances are you didn't get the perfect shot the first time around.... or the second, or third...

Especially since each course has its own level system where different Pokemon may appear & behave differently. And not to mention how legendaries don't come out of hiding until post game either. Just the photodex alone should keep players occupied for some time.

The photodex isn't the only thing to occupy players time though. There's also over 100 requests to complete, & many of these are a bit tricky. I personally chose to ignore these during my playthrough. If I happened to complete any by chance, then great, but I didn't go out of my way to stress over it. I wanted to ensure I had more to do later on.

On top of requests, there's also hundreds of titles to unlock by reaching certain milestones. Some requests & titles (& leveling up the courses) will reward you with new stickers, profile icons, & filters to collect. Idk about anyone else, but that's incentive enough for me to get my grind on! Lol

Soo while many may be skeptical of spending $60 on a game as simple as Pokemon Snap (I was at first too) I fully expect to at least get my money's worth sooner rather than later. I'm not sure how others determine the worth of their gaming purchases, but for me if I can spend one hour playing per every dollar spent on the game, then I consider it worth the price. I'm already sitting at 30 hours & it just came out on Friday, so I'm halfway there! Its been an addictive experience that I've barely been able to put down these past few days, so I definitely recommend checking it out if you haven't already!

*Fingers crossed that they announce plans for DLC some day. I can't help but crave more.* 🤞🤞

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of-elves-and-mad-hatters · 3 years

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“The Azure Sky”- Chapter 5 -Lego Elves

Shadows to the Brightest Flame: Series

- The legacy of Lumia’s influence is scarred eternally into the lands of Elvendale. Burdened by a prophecy foretelling her demise and need for a successor, she watches for one capable of such power. Yet her enemies are working steadily to undo all she’s labored so long for, and it is millenia too late to make peace.

Emily Jones, heir to Eimileen, is a bold girl dedicated to protecting Elvendale, but the world she has grown so fond of is not so black and white as it seems, and the titles of Guardian of Portal and Guardian of Light may hold darker legacies some ancient elves have worked tirelessly to hide.

In conjunction with the extended version of the Guardian of Light prophecy I wrote previously

Basically a rewrite of all of the Lego Elves & Secrets of Elvendale storylines with an additional arc beyond the Season 4: Into the Shadows. There will be a varying degree of deviation from canon.

Technically a crossover with Lord of the Rings/Hobbit/Silmarillion in terms of worldbuidling, as I set Elvendale as being north of Middle-Earth, cause this is fanfic and I can. So there will be mentions of the Noldor, Sindar, Silvan, and some Tolkien characters, but they will be mostly background. Definitely not an issue if you aren’t familiar with the Middle-Earth fandom; everything will still be easy to understand.

Book 1: The Azure Sky

Grieving over the unexpected death of her grandmother, Emily Jones is accidentally trapped in another world. Befriending a few young elves in an attempt to find her way home, Emily discovers many secrets about her grandmother’s past, but for every truth she learns two more questions take its place, leaving her vulnerable to darker force inhabiting this realm.

A rewrite of Unite the Magic

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 5

Their glasses of fireplume cordial clink in a toast.

“To Naida!” Azari and Aira cheer. Naida’s face flushes.

Farran has the map spread out on his knees. “The next key is somewhere in the Crystal Hollows.”

Naida nods, “I noticed. We’ll have to sail through the night to make it there by morning.”

“Aren’t those woods inhabited?” Aira inquires.

“Not for a few centuries. Some consider the land cursed after what happened to the colony that tried to settle there.”

“What happened?”

“A company of exiled dwarves, overwhelmed by the beauty of the gems, tried to drive the elves out. The resulting conflict turned quite bloody.”

“Hmm, mad axe-wielding midgets and enchanted rocks; sounds like you might have a chance to prove that bravery you’re always talking about, Farran Leafshade,” Azari teases.

The earth elf huffs. “I don’t need to prove anything just because you’re a daredevil. There’s more to courage than simply being insane.”

Azari’s face shifts into mock surprise. She grins. “That’s just what buzzkills say.”

Farran shakes his head before the entire table breaks into giggles.

Emily swirls the cordial in her glass. “I was wondering something,” she begins, “Azari calls you ‘Farran Leafshade’, but when you introduced yourself you said ‘Farran Folasion’. Do you have like, two last names, or is one your middle name?”

The four elves furrow their brows. Emily blushes. “I didn’t mean to be rude or anything, just forget it…”

“No, Emily, you’re fine, it’s just…we don’t know what you mean by ‘last’ and ‘middle names’.” Naida explains.

“Oh, um, a last name is your family name, I guess. My last name is ‘Jones’ because my father’s last name was Jones, and so was his father’s and so on. It helps identify what family you belong to. As for middle names, they go in between your first name and last name, though I don’t really know why.”

“So, a house name,” Aira considers, “Where all the relatives identify themselves by the name of their founding ancestor…”

“That sounds pretty similar,” Emily nods in agreement.

“We don’t use house names in this part of Elvendom; actually only a minority of one of the Elven peoples, some of the Noldor, do. Most elves here use their given name, the one bestowed to them by their parents at birth or in early childhood. To further identify ourselves, we may also add a second name, which could be a nickname or a name given as a result of some significant deed or unique occurance. Those can be either in Common-tongue or their original elvish dialect. ‘Leafshade’ is the common-tongue translation of a second name given to me by my father when I officially reached adulthood; that practice is pretty common up here.

Now, in a formal setting you don’t just use any other name of yours to introduce yourself. The second name you use is the name of your parent with the suffix ‘son of’ or ‘daughter of’. If you’re a guy, you use your father’s name, and if you’re a girl you use your mother’s name. My father’s name is Folas, so when I introduce myself formally I say ‘Farran Folasion’. ‘Ion’ means ‘son’ in most elvish languages.”

“And I would be ‘Aira Arlaynaiel’, since my mother’s name is ‘Arlayna’ and ‘iel’ means daughter. But most of the time I go by Aira Windwhistler,” the wind elf chimes in.

“That’s really interesting,” Emily muses, eyes alit in curiosity as she turns to Naida and Azari. “What about your names?”

“Formally, I am ‘Naida Marionaiel’. Usually I go by ‘Naida Riverheart’.”

“I don’t go to formal events, so I’m pretty much just ‘Azari Firedancer’; but if I ever did I would be ‘Azari Pyriaiel’.” The fire elf slurps noisily from her cordial.

“That’s cool,” Emily replies, feeling a bit repetitive. She looks out over the horizon, where the pastel blues and pinks of the sky have bled into deep reds and oranges. The sun hangs low, weary.

“It’ll be dark soon,” Naida observes. “We should prepare for the night ahead.”

__________________________

Emily turns over onto her side, restlessly flips back over again. She sighs, allowing her heavy lids to open.

The deep, unpolluted sky spangled with endless stars greets her. The streak of a comet flashes before her eyes.

It is beautiful.

Emily sits up, looking over the side of the boat onto the water. Beneath the surface of the waves seems to be its own galaxy, brilliant, shimmering colors traveling underneath. She remembers learning something about this phenomenon in one of her science classes, but the details escape her mind.

She’s not sure it would matter, for in this world the natural and unnatural are so inexplicably intwined that most scientists from her world would never be able to understand it.

So strange, so magnificent, even here in the still of the night.

Maybe that’s why she can’t sleep, the silence so foreign to her ears used to traffic noise and the flurry of nocturnal critters scampering in the garden. Or perhaps part of her is still expecting to wake up and find that all of this had been a dream.

She glances over at the four sleeping elves, reassured by their presence. She lays back down on the bench, pulling the blanket back over her body. She shuts her eyes, praying away her insomnia.

She finds her eyes fluttering open again and she groans softly in frustration. She finds herself tracing a knot in the smooth, finished wood, mind racing with all sorts of jumbled thoughts. One keeps circling back to the surface.

Why did her grandmother never tell her about this place?

Did she plan to, but her death came about unexpectedly, or did she intend to keep it a secret forever?

Would her grandmother have wanted her to end up here? Was this what was supposed to happen?

Why had she been left to deal with this alone?

Emily feels tears beginning to well up in the corners of her eyes. She shuts them, curcling into a fetal position.

She begins to hum, just the tune at first, the lullaby being so distant in her memory. As her breathing calms, drifting closer to the bliss of sleep, the words reveal themselves.

Earth moves the air, and the wind feeds the fire;

Magic is here, if you dare to believe.

Sail out to sea, on an ocean of mystery,

And bring your heart, to the ones that you meet.

#lego elves #unite the magic #fanfiction #fanfic #background crossover lotr elves #elven culture #emily jones #azari firedancer #naida riverheart #farran leafshade #aira windwhistler #elvendale #quest for the keys

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let-it-raines · 4 years

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CS Fic Rec Monday

I hope you’re all staying safe and inside as much as physically possible! I said I was going to do this weeks ago, but I finally remembered to queue it all up! Here are some dang good multi-chapter fics you can curl up with! You’ve probably already read them if you’ve been around for awhile, but rereading is fun, too! Plus, I know these writers would get excited to see a new comment or two 😘

-/-

As Real As You Want it To Be by @ive-always-been-a-pirate: Teaching at the same school as Killian Jones was both infuriating and distracting, but when he throws Emma under the bus for the final time, she devises a plan to get back at him. After all, nobody likes to go to a wedding alone. Time for some CS AU fake dating.

Warm Nights and Firelight by @oubliette14: When in the wake of a messy breakup Emma makes the impulsive decision to return home to her parent's ranch in the Rockies, she certainly doesn't expect to find a strange Irish guy living in what was once her apartment over the garage, and she definitely doesn't imagine that the home she couldn't wait to be rid of five long years ago would be the very place her heart begins to heal.

If Looks Could Kill by @wellhellotragic: Emma Swan is a dedicated FBI agent getting over a bad breakup. When she and her partner, Ruby Lucas, are forced to go undercover as contestants on a reality show, Emma is forced to try and win the affections of Killian Jones, a man she despises.Killian Jones is a lost boy. Having recently been nicknamed the ‘Bad Boy of Boston,’ he’s been living up to his moniker using women and rum to avoid dealing with his dark past. When he’s forced to take the lead in a reality show, he encounters a gorgeous blonde who turns his world upside down. Miss Congeniality meets The Bachelor.

The Reason by @xemmaloveskillianx: The three of them share a laugh before they all look to Emma. She has yet to comment on the new addition because she isn’t sure what to say. She usually doesn’t like change, they have a good thing going there, just the four of them. Plus, they all know him and she doesn’t, but she trusts their judgement, and she’s sure any brother of Liam can’t be all that bad.So, with a shrug and a smile she says, “Welcome to Storybrooke, Killian Jones.

The Wife by @ineffablecolors: No one knows all that Emma has been through and certainly no one knows all that Killian has been through and being husband and wife doesn’t make them any less unknown to each other. And really, how can you help someone heal when you don’t even know how hurt they are?

Beauty in the Aftermath by @high-seas-swan: Confronted with the sudden appearance of her birth parents, Emma, in a moment of panic, flees. She flees the diner, Storybrooke, the country. She finds herself a day later in the Dublin, Ireland Airport terminal wondering what the hell she has gotten herself into. With some fear, a little determination and a considerable amount of faking it along the way, she sets off on a trip she never planned on taking but needed more than she ever knew. She finds herself, she finds a Brit adrift on his own journey and finds out what home really means.

Playing the Part by @shireness-says: As a stage manager who's clawed her way up from the bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU.

Love, Kindness, and Other Useless Things by @joneskillian: CS AU, set in 1815. Lord Killian Jones is haunted by the demons of his past which makes him nowhere near the man he once was, so he can't be the father he wants to be. And above all, he believes he is undeserving of love. Perhaps with Emma that is all about to change. But falling in love is never easy, that's just how it is.

Something Like You Love Me by @bemusedbicycle: Emma decides the best way to get Mary Margaret off her back about Walsh is to say she already has a boyfriend. Except she doesn’t. That’s where Killian comes in. Fake!Engagement fic.

a one time thing (and other untruths) by @weezlywrites: "She supposes the reason she tells him is the same reason she kept his phone number after all those weeks." Pregnancy has a way of throwing a wrench in one's plans.

Alone, until I get Home by @peglegsjones: In Boston, Henry Swan's six-year-old brother Ian finds a book titled "Once Upon a Time" hidden beneath the seat in their mom's old yellow bug. As soon as Henry touches it, he remembers.Season 3 Canon Divergence-Emma finds out she's pregnant a few weeks after she and Henry leave Storybrooke with new memories and new lives. Nearly seven years later, another Dark Curse puts her family in danger, and Emma must return to Storybrooke to help them.Who's powerful enough to cast the Dark Curse? And how the hell is she going to tell Hook they have a son together?

Knock, Knock by @charmingturkeysandwich: Emma Swan has made the best of her crappy apartment ever since she became best friends with her neighbor, Ruby. But when Ruby moves out and a loud Brit takes her place, the thin walls and lack of space are suddenly not so endearing. After a particularly stressful day, Emma decides to confront the nightmare next door, and entirely against her better judgment, she might just be making a friend.

These Nights Aren’t Made For Thinking by @nowforruin: AU. Emma Swan came to Portland, ME to start over. She's got a job she loves, but when a particular case gets under her skin, she finds herself visiting the Jolly Roger and its curious bartender, Mr. Killian Jones, more often than she thinks is wise. But some nights aren't made for thinking. Captain Swan.

On the Two by @lifeinahole27: He’s one bad trip from ending up in AA, and she’s one performance away from a solid job and moving closer to home. Their paths were unlikely to cross until Camp Hope brought them together. How and why they meet and intertwine is against the odds, and definitely against the rules, but will that really stand in their way? A Dirty Dancing inspired modern au.

Separate Lives by @lenfaz: Set after 3x20 "Kansas". After saving the town one more time, Emma decided to return to New York, leaving her past behind. Three years later, she realizes that might be not have been the best decision.

Natural Opposite by @searchingwardrobes: Dance is more than Emma Swan’s career; it’s practically saved her life on more than one occasion. But when it comes to reality TV shows, she’s always danced in the shadows of her twin brother David and her sister Elsa. Her first season as a pro on Dancing With the Stars was a disaster, and she enters her second season determined to prove herself. All she needs is a good partner. Hollywood bad boy and ladies’ man Killian Jones isn’t what she had in mind.

Walking in a Straight Line by @msgenevievee: It’s one of the oldest stories in the book. Two old friends have a few too many drinks, two old friends share a kiss. Happens all the time, right? But what happens when only one of them actually remembers it?

Out of the Frying Pan by @welllpthisishappening: Emma Swan is only doing this for one reason, well, make that two. To get her show's numbers back up and, maybe, impress her son. She doesn't like admitting to that second one though.Killian Jones is doing this for absolutely, positively, just one reason. To expand his restaurant. And maybe get Regina off his back. So that's kind of two reasons.Neither one of them is doing a year-long Food Network all-star competition because they're celebrity chefs and there's not really any other choice. Of course not. And neither one of them is enjoying it because they maybe, kind of, sort of enjoy each other. That would be insane.

A Cold Awakening by @swanderful1: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Beyond the Horizon by @alexandralyman: AU: When Princess Emma's ship is captured by the Jolly Roger and Captain Killian Jones, she offers herself as a hostage for ransom if he will let the ship and the other passengers go. With Emma, Killian remembers the honour he once held dear, and Emma catches glimpses of the gentleman Killian had been. Against all odds, the pirate and the princess begin to fall for each other.

#csfrm #cs fic rec #cs fic #cs ff rec #Captain Swan #queue poetic noble land mermaid

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iturbide · 3 years

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Hanneman’s lab in Garreg Mach had become delightfully lively in the years after the war. It had begun quietly enough with Linhardt, who had renounced his noble title and returned to the Officer’s Academy -- ostensibly to teach, though he frequently lost himself so deeply in Crest research that he arrived late to his classes. Then came Lysithea, who had come to aid his Crest research in hopes of removing her dual Crests and extending her life again, and later adopted the mantle of his heir and successor. And finally Annette, who had taken up a teaching position at the Royal School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad, but made increasingly frequent trips to consult on magical theory and practice with her old professor. There were others, too, who made routine visits to the scholar’s humble lab: Dorothea, when she had the occasional break from opera performances, often dropped in to check on Linhardt and her favorite magic instructor; Mercedes, when she had a moment to spare in her busy routine at the orphanage, would visit to share her latest treats with Annette; Lorenz, on the rare occasions he had business in the area, made a point of stopping by to deliver the finest sweets the Alliance had to offer to appease Lysithea’s legendary sweet tooth. Their research was ever fruitful, the days frequently eventful, and the company always delightful.

With the start of the Great Tree Moon, Annette had begun a frenzied cleaning spree of their shared workspace; Lysithea had joined in without much need for encouragement, and the two together had eventually bullied Linhardt into pulling his weight, since a not insignificant portion of the book clutter was because of his studies, both in progress and abandoned. Hanneman himself did what he could, but the years had finally begun to catch up to him, and though spring had finally arrived its warmth had yet to catch up; after a bit of arthritic hobbling about doing his share, the ladies released him from his duties (in spite of the very vocal complaints from their belligerent fellow scholar), and he settled into a more advisory role, directing the shelving and reorganizing of several bookcases worth of research material that had been pulled for study in the preceding months.

Afternoon gave way to evening, and the sun had just barely dipped below the horizon when there came a knock outside. As the only one with his hands free, Hanneman creaked to his feet, picking his way through the yet-unattended stacks of equipment. “Coming, coming!” he called when the sound came again, rather more tentative this time. “Just a moment, now...ah, here we are.” Unlocking the door, he pushed it carefully open, adjusting his spectacles and squinting at the shadows figures outside, regretting that he’d not brought a lamp with him…

“Greetings, Professor Hanneman.”

“It’s good to see you again, Professor.”

He recognized the voices in an instant, and a smile broke across his face. “Lorenz! Dorothea! How wonderful to see you both again.”

“Who is it, Professor?” Annette called from somewhere behind him.

“Whoever it is, can they come back later?” Lysithea added.

“Do pardon the mess,” he chuckled, shuffling out of the doorway to invite them inside. “We’re doing a bit of spring cleaning.”

“Goodness, it looks like you have your work cut out for you,” the diva giggled, linking her arm with Hanneman’s and helping him through the clutter. “I hope we’re not in the way.”

“Gracious, no!” the professor laughed. “It’s always a treat to have you visit -- and both of you, at that! What a marvelous coincidence...I wonder if it might be a property of the Crest of Gloucester? Such coincidences do seem to follow Lysithea...”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Lorenz chuckled.

“Oh, don’t be that way!” Dorothea teased. “I think it sounds wonderful. You should look into it and tell me all about it next time.”

As they emerged from the hall, the three former students turned from their work to see who had happened by...and promptly abandoned it in favor of greeting their unexpected guests. “Dorothea! Welcome back,” Annette giggled, skirting around the teetering stack of books she’d been organizing. “How was the latest opera? Another smashing success?”

“Sold out performances, every one,” the diva agreed. “There wasn’t even standing room at the last show.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Lorenz,” Lysithea said, sidling up beside him to eye the box he carried. “Those wouldn’t happen to be more of those honey cakes, would they?”

“Perhaps,” he smiled, holding the prize up and well out of her reach. “But I insist that we have tea with it, so you simply have to be patient.”

“Tea, is it?” Hanneman piped up. “I’ll see to that, then--”

“Oh, no, please, no need to trouble yourself,” the nobleman insisted. “I would be happy to see to it, Professor.”

“Well, then, by all means,” he chuckled, settling comfortably into his favorite armchair while the others scattered between the overstuffed and well-worn couches around the scuffled tea table. Wisely choosing to take the box of sweets with him, to Lysithea’s clear dismay, Lorenz wove his way through the clutter toward the kitchen space tucked away in a far corner of the lab and swiftly vanished from sight.

Sprawling across the arm of the couch, Linhardt cast a sidelong glance at the diva sitting beside him. “So what brings you here? I thought the latest opera wasn’t set to close for another month.”

Dorothea smiled, lacing her fingers beneath her chin. “Here I thought you didn’t pay attention to the opera, Lin.”

“Normally I don’t,” he yawned, “but it’s always four months between your visits, give or take, since you only ever come after a show ends its run. It’s only been three months since you were here last.”

“Aw, Lin, I didn’t know you cared so much.”

“Did something happen?” Lysithea pressed. .

“Well...yes,” Dorothea agreed. “It’s actually why I’m here: I have big news to share with you.”

“You’re not quitting the opera, are you?” Annette asked worriedly, scooting to the edge of her seat.

“Right now I’m just on leave, but...this is going to be my last show, yes.”

“Oh, no! And I never even got to hear you perform!”

“If that’s all you’re worried about, I can see about getting a special seat reserved for you at one of the shows,” the diva giggled.

“It seems a rather sudden change,” Hanneman offered gently. “What brings this on?”

“Well, that’s the real news,” Dorothea beamed. “I’m getting married.”

A moment passed while the news sank in, varying looks of surprise, elation, and confusion crossing each face.

“Married?” Annette squeaked.

“Since when?” Lysithea pressed.

“To who?” Linhardt added.

“Oh, we came together,” the diva replied. “I’m sure he’ll be here momentarily, he just had something to do first.”

All eyes turned toward the door of the lab, waiting for another knock to break the stillness. Dorothea hummed to herself, a half-familiar tune from somewhere no one could quite recall…

“Here we are,” Lorenz announced, returning with a lavish tea tray. “Sweet-apple blend and honey cakes direct from the finest patissier in the Alliance.”

“My favorite!” Dorothea giggled. “How sweet of you.”

In an instant, everyone in the room turned to Lorenz, pouring tea for each of them and idly humming the same melody the diva had while she waited.

“HIM!?”

Lorenz jumped at the collective shout, clutching the teapot protecitvely as he looked between the mages...and then turning to Dorothea. “I thought we were going to tell them together.”

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, wiping her eyes and struggling to hold back more laughter. “I just had to see the look on their faces when they realized.”

“My goodness, what a surprise this is,” Hanneman chuckled. “I must confess, this is quite possibly the last thing I’d expected.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Dorothea?” Linhardt asked.

“I thought you two weren’t even on speaking terms!” Annette pointed out, clearly trying to keep the nobleman from hearing while he delivered a slice of cake and a cup of tea to the professor.

“What did he do?” Lysithea pressed.

“Is he blackmailing you?” Linhardt ventured.

“We’ll give him what-for if you need us to,” Annette agreed, rolling up her sleeve in preparation for a brawl.

The diva was very clearly losing her battle, muffling her laughter in her sleeve rather than try to hold it in any longer. “There’s no need for that, really,” she insisted.

“He just wants to marry you because you’re a famous opera star, doesn’t he,” Lysithea muttered, shooting a sidelong glare at the nobleman in question.

“Well, to be fair, back in the Academy I was just looking for a nobleman so I could marry into wealth,” Dorothea pointed out. “I couldn’t really hold it against him for wanting a bride with status, since that’s all I wanted, myself. But no, this isn’t just about me being an opera diva.”

“Then how did it happen?” Annette whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. “How did someone like Lorenz win you over?”

The diva smiled, cupping her chin in one hand. “He’s not the man I thought he was.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Linhardt warned.

“Maybe,” Dorothea shrugged. “But I’m still willing to see where it goes.”

“You’re sure about this?” Lysithea asked. “It is Lorenz, after all…”

The diva grinned, canting her head toward the nobleman. “Lorenz,” she called, “everyone’s just dying to know how you won a prize like me.”

Tearing his attention away from the tea service, Lorenz squared his shoulders. “What utter nonsense! A prize?”

Linhardt glowered at him from his place on the far side of the couch; across from him, Annette rolled up her other sleeve while sparks began to dance between Lysithea’s fingers. But the nobleman paid them no mind at all, setting the teapot aside and offering his hand to Dorothea instead. “All I did was state my intentions and my feelings; she is the one who gave me a chance to make good upon them. For that, I am not only fortunate, but profoundly grateful to her.”

Dorothea raised her free hand, and the nobleman caught it without hesitation, brushing a kiss across her knuckles; casting a sidelong grin at the mages across the table, she saw both Annette and Lysithea gaping in astonishment at the display.

While Lorenz resumed slicing the cake, Hanneman chuckled and sipped his tea. “I imagine there’s a story behind this.”

“You have to tell us how this happened,” Lysithea agreed, taking the offered cup and dessert.

“Did he make some big public speech at the opera?” Annette asked eagerly as she accepted her own.

“Oh, nothing so grand as that,” Lorenz chuckled. “While I like to think of myself as a romantic, I’m afraid this would not make for a timeless love story.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that -- I think it could make for a lovely opera, myself,” the diva giggled. “Two people with similar goals divided by status, thinking the worst of each other but drawn inexorably closer until they at last break free of the confines imposed by their birth…”

“Just hurry up and tell us already,” Linhardt groaned.

“Oh, Lin, you have no sense of drama whatsoever,” Dorothea sighed. “But fine, have it your way.”

Taking the cup and saucer Lorenz offered, the diva turned a warm smile on him, watching a trace of color bloom across his high cheekbones as he returned it in kind. “Alright,” she began, “it happened at the opera a few weeks ago…”

#fire emblem: three houses #fanfiction #april fool's #lorenz x dorothea #gunhorse do not read #i'm serious #you're not going to like it #happy belated april fool's everyone #the joke is that i'm completely serious about this ship #forgive typos and the like i finished at 5am and sleep is good #i'll go back over it tomorrow

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undermounts · 4 years

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Empire of Light—Chapter 4: The Ties That Bind

AO3 | Table of Contents | Ashes and Embers | Playlist

Fic Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of Ash, the party travels across Morella in search of allies to defeat the Empire of Ash, once and for all.

Chapter Summary: Back in Flotilla, Imtura makes a risky move to secure her mother’s fleet.

➳ ➳ ➳ ➳

Imtura had expected a lot of things to happen when the Wraith docked at Flotilla last night. She had expected the Flotillan guards to swamp her ship—which they did—and fuss over her, flinging royal titles left and right as they knelt at her feet like a pack of obedient dogs—which they also did.

She did not, however, expect to find that her mother was gone.

“What do you mean, ‘she’s not here?’” Imtura snarled, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Behind her, Kraglin and the rest of the crew set about unloading the Wraith’s cargo hold of old supplies and preparing the ship for a few days at port. No one knew how long they would be docked at Flotilla; Imtura supposed it depended on how stubborn her mother decided to be.

The guards before her stiffened, taken aback by the viciousness of her tone. “Her Majesty is away on business—”

Imtura’s brows lowered. “What kind of business?”

“It is not for us to say, Your High—”

“Then what good are you?” she snapped before the man could eke out that wretched title. She glanced at Kraglin, who stood behind her, then Morrigan, who stood beside him, gazing at the floating city with unmasked wonder. Imtura sighed, biting at her lip ring. “When will she be back?”

“We don’t know for certain. It could be as late as tomorrow evening,” one of the guards replied cautiously.

“Tomo—” Imtura cut herself off, reining in her anger. She closed her eyes shut and took a deep, steadying breath, reminding herself that these men were not responsible for her mother’s activities. No one was, aside from Ventra herself. When Imtura opened her eyes again, her temper had cooled somewhat, although her irritation remained. She shook her head, unable to stop her gaze from wandering to the eastern horizon. “I can’t wait that long.”

But left with no other options, she had waited.

After a restless sleep on the Wraith, Imtura dedicated the next morning to giving Morrigan a thorough tour of the sprawling maze of floating walkways and retired vessels of Flotilla, tossing out the names of her favorite ships as she went. The Black Spire, the Copper Thief, the Bloodkraken, the Maiden of the Sea… Imtura did not even realize she knew the names of all of these places until the words were spilling out of her mouth, her voice taking on a tinge of excitement every time she urged Morrigan to take notice of something she loved so dearly.

There was her favorite tavern, the Sailor’s Lament, which had ale that tasted like stale seawater, but she’d be damned if it wasn’t one of the cheapest and strongest drinks in Flotilla. They passed the supply mill that always gave her a few extra bags of salt for meat, not because she was Princess Imtura, but Captain Tal Kaelen, and here in the reaches of Flotilla that knew Imtura better than Ventra—out there on the roiling waves of the Cartesian Sea—she was respected as such.

Morrigan had gone red with laughter as Imtura pointed out an old, repurposed ship that was charmingly named Taldaro’s Tit, after the legendary orc Vinestra of Clan Taldaro, who was not only known for inventing the modern warship and her incredible prowess in battle, but also her equally incredible prowess in the bedroom. Taldaro’s Tit—yes, tit singular, not plural, and if anyone bothered to ask, the Flotillans swore up and down that it was specifically, “the right tit not the left”—was the best place to go dancing after downing a few drinks in the taverns.

“You must love this place,” Morrigan noted, as she reverently ran her fingertips along the hull of a bobbing ship as they passed, the feathers of her wings whispering in the briny breeze that swept through the city. “Flotilla, I mean.”

Imtura lifted a brow, glancing over her shoulder at Morrigan as she swaggered down the wooden walkways. It was a bit of a strange feeling, to finally have to look up at someone else as she spoke. Morrigan wasn’t built like Imtura, but she did have a good couple of inches on the orc captain, and Imtura knew that her strength wasn’t something to scoff at.

“You think so, birdie?” she questioned.

Morrigan nodded, gazing around. “The way you talk about Flotilla… It’s the same way my brother talks about the Aerie. With such fondness and familiarity.”

Imtura shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets as she ambled along. “I’m fond of it, yeah. And I know the city like the back of my hand. It’s familiar.”

“Well,” Morrigan said casually, glancing over at Imtura. “Maybe knowing something and loving something aren’t all that different.”

Imtura thought that over for a few moments, then bobbed her head. “Maybe you’ve got a point. I know all about the less than amazing parts of the city, and sometimes… Well, sometimes coming back here bums me out,” she confessed. “Feels a bit like swapping out the sea for some shackles.” She shook her head and shrugged. “But no matter what happens, it’ll always be home.”

Imtura mulled this conversation over as she sat at a rickety, ale-stained table in a cozy corner of the Sailor’s Lament, an untouched stein resting by her elbow. After wrapping up her tour with Morrigan, Imtura spent the next few hours whipping the Wraith into tip top shape. She swabbed the deck, replaced frayed sections of the rigging, and chipped barnacles off the hull—it was menial work, housekeeping chores that Imtura had not done since she herself was a swabbie.

That must have been… almost a decade ago, at least. Imtura could not wrap her head around the fact that it had been nearly ten years since that fateful evening, when she had ran away from Flotilla and stowed herself away on the infamous Sea King. But that was another story.

Repairing the Wraith was not stimulating work, but it was distracting, and Imtura was more than happy to take on the tasks, if only so she could have something to do while she waited for her dreaded mother to finally grace her with an appearance.

But the crew—namely Kraglin, with his damned big heart—put their foot down when Imtura started polishing the Wraith’s hull.

“What kind of pirate lets their captain do all of the work?” Kraglin had exclaimed jovially before stooping to grab Imtura’s legs while his twin brother, Marglin, grabbed her shoulders and began to haul her, kicking and spewing obscenities, off the ship. “You’ve got to have some fun, boss.”

They dragged her, and consequently, Morrigan, into the Flotillan nightlife, down the bobbing, uneven avenues, all the way to the Sailor’s Lament, where her quartermaster and boatswain ordered a round of ale for the entire crew, including that yellow-bellied, doe-eyed, Parnassus cabin boy.

“This is coming out of your coin, not mine,” Imtura snarled as they set her down at a booth in the far corner of the tavern and gave her a tankard, much to their merry amusement.

“Sure thing, boss,” Marglin promised placatingly, ordering a platter of roasted octopus, fried fish heads, and seaweed skewers for the table. “Sure thing.”

With a mixture of warmth and amusement, Imtura watched her crewmates guzzle down their rounds from her spot in the secluded booth, ale sloshing over the edges of their tankards, and Morrigan sandwiched in between them. She was glad to see that her crew had quickly taken the winged woman in, treating her like one of their own, and Morrigan, to her credit, had no problem in keeping up with their revelry.

By the Moon, Morrigan matched Iskra—the Wraith’s navigator—pint for pint without losing her wits, and that woman could drink most orcs under the table. Morrigan also didn’t even bat an eye at the strange array of food. Imtura reckoned that in Rysoth, she’d probably seen stranger.

Imtura wished she could join them, that she could laugh, and dance, and get so irrefutably drunk, she couldn't even remember her own damn name. But for the first time in her swashbuckling life, she did not drink.

She simply couldn’t. There was too much resting on this meeting with Ventra, and even though being a little drunk may have been the only hope she had of getting through said meeting with her sanity intact, it would do no good to anyone for her to show up boozed off her feet. Her mother was already disappointed in her enough.

Imtura watched Morrigan, the members of her crew, and the other Flotillans with a warm sort of contentment that wriggled its way into her anxious heart. She supposed that even if this whole meeting with Ventra went to complete and utter shit, there was one good thing that came out of her return to Flotilla: she got to bring her crew home once more, got to give them this small slice of normalcy before the world went arse up again.

Imtura reached into her pocket and pulled out a single gold doubloon. It was an old piece, dated from before the current Morellian currency was established, and was the first bit of gold Imtura had ever earned as a pirate, a gift from one great captain to another. Only Imtura hadn’t been a captain then. Just a runaway princess, trying to find where she belonged.

Imtura flipped the coin on her thumb and caught it, weighing it thoughtfully in her palm. On one side, it featured a familiar curving symbol. At the bottom, there was a curled arch that looked like a wave poised to crash. Above that was a seashell-like spiral, with two great horns sprouting from the sides. The symbol of her people. The other side featured a crude depiction of land and sea meeting beneath a sky full of stars.

Both faces were worn, both from age and years of Imtura rubbing her thumb against its surface whenever she felt the weight of leadership to be particularly heavy upon her shoulders. She set it on the old, wooden table and spun it on its edge, the lantern lights of the tavern flickering on its golden face.

If I ever find it… I’ll let you know.

The coin spun and spun, then wobbled and wavered.

Then, you can bring our people home.

It was a foolish plan, a dreamer’s hope. Imtura knew that place was long gone, lost to fire, to the sea, and to time itself. To go looking for it… That was like chasing a child’s fairytale.

But…

She had seen many impossible things, even before getting involved with this Shadow Realm business. She had seen so many wonders… What was one more?

Imtura caught the doubloon as it fell, swiping her thumb over the surface that featured the landscape. Then, she pocketed it and stood.

After leaving a quick word with Kraglin, Imtura ducked out of the Sailor’s Lament and made her way across the bobbing walkways of Flotilla, acknowledging the passing nods of respect she got as Captain and ignoring the deferential inclinations she received as Princess.

Officially, Flotilla had no temples or shrines dedicated to elements of nature the orcs worshipped: the Skies, the Winds, the Ocean, the Earth, the Sun, the Stars, and the Moon. Unlike the Faith of the Light and the Shared Pantheon, religion among the orcs was decentralized, piety left to the individual. But there were places in the floating city in which Imtura’s people liked to leave their offerings.

The Sea Nymph was one such place.

Imtura crossed the gangway onto an old, barnacle-covered ship, reaching out to affectionately pat its hull as she boarded. On the bow of the ancient vessel, the name was painted in flowing script, the white paint faded with age.

Barely an adolescent, Imtura had not been around when Ventra officially won over all of the orc fleets and established Flotilla as her capital. Instead, she had been hidden away on a ship with a few trusted orcs of the Minurva Clan, far away from all of the danger and political turmoil as her mother upended centuries of tradition.

But Imtura heard that at the time, when Flotilla was little more than a small cluster of old ships and floating shacks, the Sea Nymph had already been stationed here, with a small collection of oddities already hidden inside. There were even rumors that the Sea Nymph was the first ship in Flotilla, the starting point around which the rest of the floating city had been constructed.

Imtura did not know if those rumors were true, but the Sea Nymph was certainly weathered enough to fit the tale, and in the last decade, no one had ever claimed ownership of the vessel. As such, its wellbeing was left in the collective hands of the Flotillans, which was probably why it had fallen into a state of such disrepair.

As she crossed the deck of the orphaned vessel and descended the stairs that led into its belly, Imtura found herself wishing she could have seen the Sea Nymph in its heyday. Even with all of its rotted wood and the massive holes that gaped in the floors, there were still vestiges of its past glory—faded gold filigree on the bannister, waterlogged wool rugs, chipped carvings of mermaids laid into the creaking walls…

Once, it must have been beautiful.

But now, Imtura supposed the ship had a different kind of beauty, and if she was being honest, she preferred it. Deep in the vessel’s cargo hold, Imtura was surrounded by the multitude of offerings orcs from all across the Cartesian Sea had left here for the elements.

Windchimes and sparkling bits of glass hung from the ceiling, tinkling softly with the swaying motion of the ship and the lazy breeze that streamed through the cracks in the hull—offerings to the Skies and the Winds.

An old fur rug sat in the back corner, right in the path of the moonlight that streamed into the room through a hole in the side of the ship. On top of the rug sat precious gemstones and silver dimes, offerings laid out for the Moon and the Stars.

Imtura crossed to the ship’s stern and clambered up a ladder made of rope, hauling herself into what had once been the quarters of the Sea Nymph’s captain. The bedroom was in no better shape than the rest of the ship—the main entrance was obstructed by fallen beams and splintered wood, the velvet canopy of the bed was peppered with holes and coated in dust. But it still held an air of sanctity and whispers of grandeur.

The doors to the balcony had been left open by the last visitor, the tattered curtains flowing like strands of spider silk. Imtura crossed onto the balcony, which served as yet another shrine. Shells, broken bits of coral, and even small pieces of ships—the knob of a wheel, a shredded flag—were balanced atop the railing or laid on the ground. But the majority of the offerings made to the Ocean were dropped over the side of the balustrade, right into the sea itself.

Imtura reached into her pockets, fingers scrounging around for anything she could offer up to the elements. All she had was a bit of lint, a few ribbons to tie her off her braids, and that golden doubloon. For a moment, Imtura contemplated flipping the coin over the side of the ship, but sentimentality—and perhaps a bit of child-like hope—had her pocketing the gold piece once more. Instead, Imtura took her ribbons and tied them around the wooden posts that upheld the railing.

She watched them flutter in the wind for a moment, taking that as a sign nature had accepted her meager offering, and was about to turn when a voice behind her spoke up.

“The tavern wasn’t fun enough, for you?”

Imtura half-turned, bracing her hand against the wooden banister. A single sand dollar was nudged out of the way by her fingers and fell into the gentle waves with a plunk!

“Morrigan.” Imtura relaxed slightly, dropping the hand that had instinctively moved to hover over one of her axes. “Like sneaking up on me, do you?”

Morrigan shook her head. “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. You were just…” she shrugged, her gaze roaming over Imtura’s head. “Deep into your own thoughts, I suppose. What is this place?” she asked, looking around the captain’s cabin with an unreadable expression. “It’s…”

Imtura half-expected her to say “old” or “a wreck” or perhaps “a rotting shithole” and frankly, she would have been right to do so.

But instead, Morrigan said, “Incredible.”

Imtura let out a little breath, lips easing into a casual smile. “Isn’t it? This is where we orcs sometimes come to give up offerings to the elements. There’s no other place in Flotilla like it.”

“Give up offerings?” Morrigan asked, joining Imtura on the balcony. She tucked her wings in tight behind her, taking care to avoid knocking over any of the items strewn about. “Is that what you were doing just now? Making an offering?”

“Yeah,” Imtura shrugged, glancing down at the ribbons that danced in the breeze. “S’pose so.”

“I didn’t take you for the religious type,” Morrigan noted although there was no judgment or accusation in her voice.

“I’m not, really,” Imtura admitted, tapping her fingers against the railing. “At least not in the way that the humans, elves, and your folk are. I didn’t even believe in the gods until recently.” She turned away, fixing her attention on the slivers of the dark horizon that were visible in between other ships and bobbing structures. “We orcs don’t have temples or priests or anything like that. These offerings… they’re just meant to give back to what made us. The elements. And maybe get a little good luck along the way.”

“Good luck?” Morrigan asked, lifting a coppery brow. In the moonlight, the freckles that splashed across her cheeks looked like little stars. She smiled slightly, nudging Imtura’s elbow with her own. “What does a fearsome orc captain like you need luck for?”

Imtura huffed through her nose. “Meet my mother and then you’ll understand.”

Morrigan raised her eyebrows at Imtura for a moment, then nodded. “Ah. So, it’s like that,” she mused aloud. “You think you’ll have difficulty convincing your mother to send the fleet to Morella’s aid.”

“Without question,” Imtura replied. “She harbors no love for human kings. And as far as she’s concerned, the elves can go right on ahead and isolate themselves into extinction.”

“Harsh,” Morrigan muttered and Imtura shrugged.

“Sometimes, I can’t blame her,” she confessed, nudging aside a few offerings to brace her forearms on the railing. “I don’t agree with her, but… There was a time when my people were thought of as the scum of Morella. By some people, we still are. That’s why you’ll never find an orc east of Port Parnassus. Not just because we can’t live without the sea, but because no town would ever have us.”

Imtura laughed, the sound more harsh and bitter than she had intended it to be. “‘We lay no roots,’” she stated, shaking her head. “That’s our motto. It’s what my people have lived by ever since we lost Kell D’hana. My ancestors promised to never settle, to always seek adventure, and to chase the thrill of conquest. But look at Flotilla. A bunch of stationary ships and floating buildings.”

“By your principles, Flotilla should not exist,” Morrigan said slowly, picking up on Imtura’s line of thought.

“Exactly.” Imtura nodded, sighing heavily. “If you ask me, the reason we’re so proud to be a seafaring race is because it goes against the one thing we want but can’t have.”

“And what’s that?”

“A home,” Imtura stated somberly. “Not just Flotilla, but a real home. A place to belong. One that won’t go up in flames if a single lantern drops.”

She’d never spoken about this before, to anyone. In fact, she rarely ever gave these thoughts any time, for just thinking them felt almost treasonous. Even when she reminisced with the party, she usually only told them about how much she missed sailing and her crew. They’d always understood. But maybe that was why it was easier to talk to Morrigan. Because Morrigan didn’t understand. She didn’t know the orcs like Morellians did, didn’t know what they were and weren’t supposed to be.

“It’s all material, though,” Imtura added, feeling a bit of warmth rush to her cheeks at her confession, the uncomfortable sense of vulnerability she now felt. “I know that as long as I’ve got my crew and my freedom, I’ll be alright. ‘Home is where the heart is’ and all that.”

“Are you trying to make me believe that or are you trying to convince yourself?”

Imtura let out a startled huff, surprised—and a little impressed—by Morrigan’s bluntness. “You’re nosy aren’t you?”

Morrigan shrugged, shaking her head. “You sound like you have some stuff you’ve got to work through. I’m just trying to help you figure out what that is.”

Imtura eyed the other woman cautiously. Morrigan was fun. Fun to flirt with, fun to banter with, and Imtura was certain that there was a great deal of other kinds of fun they could get up to together. But now, Imtura began to wonder if whatever flirtation they had between them could ever be more than just fun.

She could stand to find out.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” she confessed softly, tugging at the ends of her hair. “But I feel like there’s a part of me missing. Like I’m searching for a place I’ve never been, a place that I’ve never seen. But deep down, I know it and it knows me. Even though we have never met.”

“A home,” Morrigan said, her voice equally soft.

Imtura nodded, trying not to shy away from Morrigan’s green gaze. “Yeah.”

“Do you think a place like that exists out there?” Morrigan asked.

“I don’t know that, either,” Imtura admitted. She supposed that for an adventurer, there was a lot about the world she did not know. “Maybe. I once…” She shook her head, turning her gaze to stare into the depths of the sea below them, the dark waves reflecting the silver moonlight. “I once knew a woman who planned to find out. I’ll never know if she did.”

“Well, just so you know…” Morrigan said after a few moments had passed in silence. “Whether a place like that exists or not, if you ever decide to quit swashbuckling and settle down, the Aerie would gladly have you.”

Imtura smiled at that, leaning her weight on one elbow as she looked over at Morrigan. “Well, just so you know… You’ll always have a place at my hearth. And on my ship.” Then she winked and added, “In case you ever find a storm you can’t handle.”

Morrigan grinned, shifting a little closer. “I’ve been told that the captain’s quarters are the warmest place on the Wraith. Is that true?”

“I’d say so,” Imtura replied, pushing away from the railing to take a step toward Morrigan. She reached out, fingers brushing aside a coppery strand of Morrigan’s unbound hair from her cheek. It was so rare that the Avian woman wore it outside of a plait, and Imtura was possessed by the sudden urge to run her hands through it. “But you are welcome to find out for yourself any time.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” Morrigan whispered, her cheeks rounding against Imtura’s fingertips as she smiled and began to lean in.

“As you should,” Imtura murmured, sliding her hand from Morrigan’s cheek to the back of her neck as she closed her eyes. She felt Morrigan’s breath on her skin and thought faintly that she smelled like a storm, wild and reckless. Imtura wondered if she tasted like one, too.

“Captain?”

Sunken hells.

Stifling a groan, Imtura turned away, prepared to bite the head off of whoever just interrupted them. But when she saw her quartermaster, Kraglin, standing in the captain’s quarters of the Sea Nymph, his face uncharacteristically sober, she stiffened. She knew why he had come.

Kraglin nodded, catching the look of understanding that crossed Imtura’s face.

“It’s time.”

Read the rest of the chapter on AO3!

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