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ducknotinarow · 8 months

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[87 RaphDon]

Don sighed out, fiddling with his fingers as he looked towards Raph. They'd been going on about Casey, which wasn't anything new, but what was new, was the fact Donatello wasn't annoyed by it. If anything, he was almost...jealous? No, that wasn't quite the word, but it's the best Don had. After a moment, he speaks up, tries to join in with the romantic words Raph was giving,

"Y-yeah, Yvonne's real great."

Why did it sound so awkward when he said it? Because he really did mean it! He thought she was great, and so many other things, but Donatello just couldn't say it - not like how Raph can do it. In fact, that's why he was here,

"Raphael, how do you do it?" Don asks, "How can you sit and say all this stuff about Casey, sometimes even in front of them, without feeling like an idiot?" He specifies, "I try and do that with Vonnie but I just sorta, you know, get tongue tied I guess?"

| Muse interaction

Raphael, made his way into Donatello's lab for well no real reason really, just to hang out with his brother. Still not the biggest fan of their inventions but well hey if Donatello could bother to ask for help when ones was stolen? Then Raphael could work on acting interested in what they did. Or in the least be aware of it when something went wrong. But also cause well Raph just liked hanging around Donnie, ya think the spent would let anything of note to be absorbed in his head. Letting Don tell him about his current project well at least the one that had their focus and he had the material for it to get it. Until Don seemed to run into a snag on a part that seemed to be just a bit too small.

Raphael sitting beside his brother idly tipping back in the chair he was resting in letting his brother work well they would mutter something here and there about what he was doing. Sometimes Raph answered seriously, mostly he just being Raph and cracking some sarcastic comments. It was all playful of course, till Don seemed to grow frustrated. Raphael turning to look at them to see it was because of their current struggle. He hears some mumbling about how it just won't fit because it's to small. "Things to say in the bedroom that will make me both happy and sad at the same time." Raph comments wide smile on his beak as he.

Letting his chair fall forward so he could get a better look him self taking the rotor from Don's hold as he just looks it over. "Ya know? I bet Case could help getting one of these things for you?" Raph offers to his brother as he looks at frame Donatello was trying to get it to fit into just a moment ago. "he works with engines and what not so bet if I ask he wouldn't mind keeping an eye out for a better fit?" Raph adds in so Don wouldn't have to run off to the dump in a mad search for what he needs. Raphael set it down and used his commutator to take a photo of the piece. Send it to Casey along with a text asking for what he said he would for Donatello. Smiling as he idly tosses in some sappy thank you Casey's way. He knew Casey never texted back less it was important.

"I know he'll do it, he'll do anything I ask" Raph slightly brags with a faint dreamy smile one his face as he sets his phone back down. "Guy can't help himself sometimes I don't even gotta ask he just goes 'oh this is for Raphael' nothing but a sap. It's adorable. He's adorable." Raphael soon goes on another tangent about his boyfriend. "He's such a dork I make a comment about something I like and he just remembers it and asks if it's something I wanna do or see and sure maybe I do but it's not really why I brought it up. Next thing I know big guys over here telling me were gonna go. So, asking for this? yeah he'll make it a mission to find." He chuckles a little not because he found it funny he really did love that about Casey. "Dork likely gonna bring in a few just to make sure he got the right size in the end. Nothing but big doe eyes when he comes here handing them to me." Okay well no one else would see said doe eyes seeing as Casey's make seemed to be basically glued to the mans face. But Raphael knew for sure they would have doe eyes aimed at him. There is a faint blush touching his face as he rests his cheek in the palm of his hand.

"He's amazing like that though, if its for me I really think he do anything. Why? apparently my smile is enough payment for him." HE blushes a bit more he suddenly gruffs and holds his hands out into the air as if he was grabbing something "Ugggh idiot why can't you be here so I can grab that gorgeous face and smoosh your cheeks in for being so damn cute and perfect!" Raphael complains now. "I wanna pull him in and kiss him all over for being so great, cause I want tell him how damn lucky I am for having this guy so willing to take time out to do one small thing for me if he can. No if I know he will why? I dunno somehow I got this amazing dude hooked on me. That if its for me he might do literally anything cause he just wanna do it for me!" Slightly sound like he was complaining he wasn't he was just in a fit of aggression only Casey caused. A cute aggression. "He'll then be all 'is this right jellybean?' al soft and shyly cause guys gotta be more adorable to kill me! and it'll be the right thing and i'll know that damn smile is behind his mask and he so rude for not letting me see it. So i'll just hold his hands and smile at him happily wagging my tail cause Casey's here now and i'm just so damn happy." Raphael continues on hes not even sure what he's saying now. Turning to look at Donatello who been dealing with this whole speech just then.

"I love that man." Raphael ends his statement on. Feeling a bit bad he went off about his boyfriend when he was meant to be hanging out with his twin. Course thinking about it, Von tended to help him with his projects. "Hey, no Von today? So used to her being left by herself well your busy or hanging by your side I didn't even notice she wasn't here." Raph comments on. Soon fixing them with a look, as he leans over to better look at his twin. "Soooo, how that all going though? I mean you two seem to be getting along just fine right?"

"Y-yeah, Yvonne's real great."

"mm well yeah but what else?" Raph pushes a little, Don and him didn't often talk much about it but didn't mean Raph wasn't invested in knowing about Don's own relationship her. "I mean she seems like a great gal. When i'm not near killing her with my cooking but ya know the other stuff? I mean you know I think Casey's amazing and takes my breath away the moment I think about him. Which is a lot I surprised I ever breath." He jokes

"Raphael, how do you do it?"

"Do what?" He can catch the seriousness in the question as he gives his attenuation his brother now.

"How can you sit and say all this stuff about Casey, sometimes even in front of them, without feeling like an idiot?"

Raphael doesn't even change his expression like normally would or toss in a sarcastic thanks over his brother outright calling him an idiot in the moment. Hard to deny something when he had just been doing it after all, but he knows despite the insult Donatello is asking for a reason.

"I try and do that with Vonnie but I just sorta, you know, get tongue tied I guess?"

"Oh I feel like an idiot every time actually." Raphael confesses but he smiles when he dose so. "Ya really think I don't know how I can be?" He adds in even. He sees where his poor brother is coming from now why they seemed a tad to awkward about talking about Von when he was asked. "Nah sometimes when i'm flapping my beak i'm just thinking, jeeze Raphael do you ever shut up? You been going on about Casey for hours even Casey would says that's too much, which he dose more cause I think I embarrass him just a little bit. With how I go on and can be overwhelming for that guy. I don't think he hates it though." Nah if he did Raph's sure Casey would have mentioned that by now.

"Honestly? I annoy myself sometimes, I used to make fun of folks for doing what I do after all. Thing is though? It's cause Casey gives me a confidence I didn't know I needed." Raphael admits "Yeah I know, I'm already pretty cocky and such and don't ever hold back what I think well ever." He shrugs uncaring for all of that. "I ain't like you Donnie, I didn't really care about love and such maybe cause I didn't know I didn't like girls at the time I dunno. What I do know? is I'm so lucky Donnie. I say it all the time because I'm in disbelief on the fact I even have Casey in life ya know? I mean I thought he was good looking and liked him when he met and well things went off from there. I just had my mind set on the guy. Never dreamt he well feel the same." Raphael offers.

"Casey's truly a great guy to me, he's so good towards me too. For a first well everything I got lucky there right? So how can't i just be in such disbelief this amazing, kind, loving, gentle giant of guy loves me? I mean really loves me too. Casey's always so gentle with me Don." Raphael's face falls just a moment "In ways I didn't know I needed either but he is." Smile returns "So I find my self just kid of going off about how amazing he is because, well I want him to know that I really do appreciate and love that about him. Casey aint much of a talker himself ya see" which may be obvious, "And I think sometimes the guy worries about that so I sort just kept doing it more and more. I'm an idiot and well I don't mind being an idiot for Casey I guess is why I can do it?" He ponders a little "Yeah actually say that is why. I can't do too much else but I can do that. Maybe ya don't gotta blab on about Von like I do Casey though." Soon he turns back to his twin.

"Just cause werd twins don't mean were the same right? I run my mouth all the time cause I don't think. But you think, you think about her lots right? I bet you think about all the stuff she tells you she likes and whatever too?" That just made sense for Raphael when it came to his brother after all. "Think about the books she likes and whatever right? Maybe ya don't need to say it is my point." Raph ends his explanation on. "But cause your you, i bet you over think that uh?" He soon playfully flicked Donatello's forhead smirking a little after wards. "Maybe just work on showing it." Soon he nudges thier shoulder.

"Instead of leaveing her to deal with the rest of us in the living room that is." He has to just throw a tease in over that as well, of course. "That's what Case dose." Raphael says beaming "dose all kinds of things that tell me how he feels. And honestly? Means the world to me Don." He chuckles a bit "which may also be way I never shut up about him?"

#muse| hamato raphael #madamkezzie #aflockoffeathers #[ you think first i hit first - aflockoffeathers]#[ if your jumped off a bridge its cause i did first -aflockoffeathers]#[ 87 verse]#ic reply #muse interaction #stay queued

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emilynthephoto · 2 years

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You should have seen me Sunday night when this parallel hit me. I was so happy!

By the way, Mayan’s videos and parallel gifs give me life. We often see the same parallels and she gives some I don’t always notice. That’s also the case for the gif setters here on tumblr too! I just love this fandom!

It was this line in 405 that I went back to when trying to figure out Tim’s motivation for asking out Ashley. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t really all that bothered by Ashley at the time, but I got a little more frustrated than I wanted to be in the next couple of episodes. Anyway, that egg freezing storyline wasn’t random like most people thought. Other than to come back to it later in the season w/ her dad, it was placed there to explain or give a clue as to what Tim was feeling/thinking in the next episode, and what he was thinking around Lucy at the time.

At the end of S3 and beginning of S4 I think he was kind of strongly trying to get up the nerve to make a go at it with Lucy. You really started to see his feelings show. And he wasn’t her superior in a sense anymore (more so at end of S3), but then when she pushed to be his aide, he started to lose hope. I mean that literally forced them to not be together romantically and Lucy was showing little to no signs of interest.

Once it was brought up again about kids (which I bet he hadn’t thought about in a while) he started to think he needed to settle down. I talk about how I looked more into his facial expressions as clues to what was going on with him internally in 406 here - https://emilynthephoto.tumblr.com/post/667782038829613056/while-im-in-the-we-have-nothing-to-worry-about

This moment when Ashley said she didn’t want to be married or have kids and the look on his face validated what I originally speculated. And I’m so glad I published it.

I love that it wasn’t a true proposal, because that felt a little lazy in writing. Like that’s a tired trope. I loved that it surprised me and that it was a parallel to Lucy’s prank and a callback to Tim’s 405 line. Also, some people ask me to speculate on future episodes and this is why I don’t usually. I just speculate on what’s already been given because they don’t give us everything. And there’s beauty in that- it gives us fans just enough to make art from it(fan fic, fan art, analyzing characters, etc.) I love that!

Here’s another post I did with similar musings. https://emilynthephoto.tumblr.com/post/674226038349381632/disclaimer-i-have-not-seen-the-episode-and written before 4x12 aired.

#the rookie #chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #eric winter #melissa oneil #lucy x tim #4x05 #4x21 #parallels #musings

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more-than-a-princess · 2 years

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@cantillat asked: 1, 2, 11

Mun Views meme - Accepting!

1. On formatting.

I use xKit, so I try to be less picky about formatting in general as it’s fixed on my dash. However, thee are the things that bother me immensely either due to being hard to read or grammatically irritate me:

- Super small text. I understand small text. But super small? I can’t read it on your blog. That means when I’m checking out your blog to decide whether to follow you (more on that in Question 2!), if I cannot read your threads, I’m less likely to want to engage with you because I just can’t determine what your writing style is. I have to squint and get really close to my screen to decipher it, and that’s painful.

- not capitalizing your sentences, proper nouns, anything.

- putting multiple spaces between words. This one is just a hassle for me when I’m trying to read and re-read your replies in order to craft my response.

- Big icons, especially things much bigger than 100x100. When the icon takes up most of my screen, it just seems clunky to me.

Elaborate banners and colored text bother me less, but random all caps is a little off-putting. I bold my dialogue though, mostly so others can find it easily when they’re looking to reply to what my muses say, but that and small text are the extent of my formatting.

And cutting posts is A+, everyone should do it!

2. On OCs.

I consider OCs (I don’t want to say evaluate or judge, but more consider which characters written by which muns I want to write with) the same way I consider canon muses. Do they have a written backstory? Do they have various character traits listed (especially beyond their name/gender/age/sexual orientation)? I look for all of these things with canon muses too (and it’s a turnoff when the only information is a link to the canon’s wiki page. I want to know how you interpret that canon muse, not the wiki!).

But overall, I’m looking at writing style and frequency. Does the mun write in a style that I’m inspired by and feel like I can reply back to, and stay engaged and interested in our interactions? Do they reply with a frequency that works for me (for me, that’s generally not next-day turnaround and not waiting a 1 month+ for replies, barring a hiatus. Somewhere between there!).

I throw my muse in way more threads with crossovers and OCs instead of canon characters in their fandom nowadays: simply put, I tend to like the interactions more. Nothing against the Danganronpa muses I currently write with! I love writing with you all. But the majority of my interactions are not with Danganronpa canons: they’re with OCs and crossovers. When you bring in new muses and verses, there’s a lot more to write and experience beyond the plots/storylines/locations/situations common to the fandom.

11. On your character.

In short, I’m well-aware that my character is not one of the most beloved in the fandom. Sonia, for the most part (or so I’ve read), is a love her or hate her character, and with no small part to blame from the games/anime themselves and how she was interpreted, many fans see her value as three things: humor/stupidity/getting shit wrong, shipping, and wishing she’d died in order to give other characters (namely, Kazuichi) more character development.

It can be tough to be a Sonia Nevermind fan at times, y’all.

Even tougher when you’re not a fan of some of the very popular fandom ships for her.

Nevertheless, I feel the following, possibly objectionable (if the hate I’ve received in the past is any indication), things about Sonia:

- Sonia Nevermind is not stupid. She is sheltered, and there is a difference between being sheltered and being an idiot. What the canon materials did not do well where Sonia is concerned is that they did not give her a chance to really utilize the skills she does have. She lists them in the game herself: international law, economics, diagnostic medicine, foreign languages, and leadership, to name a few! However, in the context of the DR games/killing games, there isn’t much of a chance for her to use those skills. And even as a leader, she understands that, in this situation, Hajime is best fit to lead them and she doesn’t try to fight it. That is grace, that is humility, and she embodies everything a princess should be when she encourages others to use their skills to work as a team to get them free.

She comes off as airheaded because, for the majority of her life, she has been sheltered: she has mostly been in the company of other sheltered rich kids, her family, and her family’s royal staff who, because they are paid handsomely for it, do not allow her to be exposed to the ‘real world.’ I wager that even her mastery of Japanese language at times is overly formal or taken from pop culture: anime, dramas, and the like. She has an idealized vision of Japan and those who reside there because of how she was raised and taught. But she is not stupid (Except in recognizing when people are in love with her for her and not because she’s a princess, but that’s a different issue altogether!).

She wants to learn whenever, however, possible. It’s not only part of being a member of the Novoselic Royal Family but Sonia is innately curious as a person. She does not want to remain ignorant.

- It is a perfectly fine view to have Sonia’s ‘blood sacrifice’ scene mean that she’s participated in a blood sacrifice before and that she’s not a virgin. Or one or the other. It is not fine to criminalize fans for interpreting this scene how they wish: some people have sex. Sex happens. This scene can be read multiple ways.

- Sonia had to mature at a very young age and her ‘talent’ has been her responsibility since she was born, for as long as she can remember. Other classmates were able to develop their interests, and subsequently their talents, over time and by choice. Sonia is not afforded that opportunity: she has always had the responsibility of being the future Queen of Novoselic.

This influences how much her own talent, and the studies/training that go with it, influences her day to day life. I talk a lot about her princess duties and skills on this blog because I cannot imagine them taking a backseat in her life, no matter how much she tries. That is one of Sonia’s constant struggles in every universe and every interaction: how do I reconcile my own desires and needs with those of my family and country?

Furthermore, while she is kind and friendly almost everyone (piss off Junko), this means it’s usually harder for her to give her heart to someone else romantically. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been approached for insta-shipping because “Sonia is such a kind pretty and nice muse and she will love my muse ASAP!”

That’s not how it works. She falls in love far more quickly as a teenager to be sure, but when becoming a legal adult kicks in and she’s given more responsibility and sees a lot more ugliness in the world? She has to be choosy about who she picks as a partner, or at least how easily she will open up her heart and all of its flaws, to someone else. It’s not just about her and her needs: she has so many other people to consider. Millions of them.

#more-than-a-princess answered #more-than-a-princess musings #cantillat #(Mun Views meme)#(I'm sure many of these you've heard me rant about)#(But I will die on the 'Sonia is not stupid she's sheltered' hill)#(Also Kodaka sucks at writing women)

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akane171 · 2 years

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Solitude IS pretty nice...😍😍🙈

And ohhhhh, sounds interesting! Esp. the part where Kara punched a Doc for harassing her🤣🤣 Mon sounds very interesting, too! Were you thinking more along the lines of S2 or S3 Mon (or a totally different version?) cause that kinda sounds fitting for his S3 self🤔🤔

Well, the crazy part is for sure, just didn't expect birds to be your chosen animal🤔😉

...Now you are making me worry about the animals around you😅 Lol, please let's not put animals and humans into the same category, animals are so much better 😉😉🙈

Lol, absolutely! Like, they were SO living the married-couple-life, no wonder Thara (...and Alura...and pretty much everyone) thought they were a thing for sure😅🙈 And yeah, I love robots, but THAT robot can just go run out of batterie or sth😖

Wait, on that note just a random thought rn (and kinda because your Maya&Kao idea kinda lives rent-free in my chaotic mind), but imagine what could have been if their future kid(s) had shown up when Karamel was on Argo😱🙈

From what I've seen, nearly everyone in that fandom was pissed, tho tbh even tho I only ever watched clips of that ship due to YouTube recommendations, even I was perplexed about how the heck they screwed THAT ship over... Like, I thought Karamel got screwed but Bellarke seems to have drawn an even shorter stick😅😅🙈🙈😖

Haha, thanks?😅🤣

Omg, Cat, Alura, Rhea and Lillian? That's worse/better than the end of the world🤣😖🤣 The only thing that could make it even worse/better is putting show!Lar Gand, Maxwell Lord, Lex Luthor and Morgan Edge into that room, too😅😅🙈

Oh no, your muse didn't have even the good grace to take you with her?😖😅🙈😉 Ehhh, my writing's been pretty screwed lately...😅 I managed a few sentences here and there but nothing I'm truly happy with, didn't even bother trying to continue the next chapter on my unfinished fic and I'm still growing new ideas like a bunch of weeds in my head😫 Plus, I don't really have time anyway, soooo🙈 Nope, definitely not better on my side😅

...🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ ...In my defense, I said I'll TRY, made no promises and I never ever claimed to not be an idiot 🤣🤣🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🙈🙈

Haha, thanks, hope you had and awesome day too and hey, week's nearly done💃🏻💃🏻

XXX

IT IS. I love being alone with my brain. Best fic ideas come to me on time like that xD

More like his s3 I guess? Like a man escaping his family or work. Maybe an ex soldier, healing from his experiences. Or just a dude having enough of coorporation life and his family.

So, in your humble opinion, what kind of animal would be my chosen?

Agreed that animals are better than humans, no argument here, but did you ever have mice at your house? I bet you didn't. =='

And Alura said he makes her happy TT And Mon said he can't lose her again. And thanks writers for completly fucking shit up :)))))

Also, i would love to see Zor El being there. Can't decide if he would be overproctive father or bieng best pals with Mon-El xD

That would be a otal... confusion? But they would appear there with a plan to make their parents a thing or by accident?

I mean, I have seen pics, was pals with their shippers but never really felt the chemistry, thrill whatever. Sucks to be thei fans, but welcome in the club of fucked up ships fans *shrugs* Plus, it seems the show didn't make any sense anyway, just like SG in s5-6.

You are welcome

Hmm, ladies vs dudes, older generation edition. Sounds brutal. But maybe it would be better for another AU. Lawyer firm? Music industry?

She's a bitch after all. Oh well, I know teh pain, i guess all fic writers went through this shit when the writing just doesn't look good. So, dunno, survive, keep calm and hopefuly future will bring your muse back. Or something.

So, in a way, you are worse than karamel saying sorry. Yay for you!

Almost weekend, that's the only thing that keeps me alive.

#ReFail #my fam

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nightowlfandom · 3 years

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Ayato Sakamaki- My Only Human

HEY HEY!!

ANON ASKS

Can I make a request from your x -rated prompts. 36, 40, 57 , With Ayato Sakamaki. >.< if you can.

Idea: Maybe the reader, catches a student at the night school flirting and touching him, but when she thought he would shove her off, he doesn't. She gets super mad at him and doesnt talk to him the rest of the day until he comes in her room after school demanding to the what the readers problem is, and it leads to some rough sexy time??

If you cant thats fine >.<

If YoU CaN’t ThAt’s FiNe, PSSSSHH I GOT THIS

36- That’s it, grab my hair. Yank it, pull me back into your pussy.

40- How do you ride me so good? God damn, you’re gonna break me!

57- Fuck! You’re mine. You’re fucking mine and I’m fucking yours.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!!

Leggo!!

...

“Yui, question.” you walked through the halls with your favorite adoptive-cousin.

“Y/N, Answer!” she giggled in reply. “What’s up?”

“I needed help! Me and this math thing is not a thing.” you glared down at your folder.

“18, 42, 6.9 and X=17.” she instantly filled in the blanks to the questions you hadn’t answered.

“Have I ever told you I loved you?” you faked crying.

“Only always.” she shrugged. “I see the boys beat us here.” she mused, noticing the Sakamaki AND the Mukami brothers in the respective groups by the lockers, right across from each-other.

“Always beating us here, but never offering to drop us off...assholes.”

“Aren’t you the one insisting on Ayato and you arriving at different times?” she raised a brow as you two slowed down in pace.

“I told it it would be better if I arrived a little bit after him after his gaggling fans dispersed.” you half-shrugged. “The last thing I need are his fangirls trying me.” you rolled your eyes.

“Like that girl flirting with Ayato?”

“Exactly...Wait WHAT?”

Yui pointed in the direction of the Sakamaki brothers. A girl was standing in front of him. Holding her books to her chest with one hand while twirling strands of her hair in another.

“Julia.” you growled. “She always does this!” you motioned to how ridiculous it was that she always flirted with one of the Sakamaki brothers. Especially the one that was TAKEN!

“Ayato won’t let her even touch him!” Yui tried to console you.

“You know what, you’re right.” you smiled a little. Everyone knew you two were an item. She wouldn’t dare.

“He loves you and he wouldn’t let her-”

You two watched as Ayato put on a flirtatious smile, crossing his arms in amusement as he leaned against the lockers.

“Maybe he won’t even entertain-”

Julia trailed a finger up his arm, laughing like a hyena.

“Maybe he’ll embarrass her?”

You watched as he took her hand, raised it to his mouth and gave her knuckles a short peck.

“Maybe-”

“Yui I love you, but I’ma need you to stop talking.” your voice kinda cracked.

You had transferred from day school to night school for him. You had transferred SCHOOLS for him. You dealt with the burden of having to take care of a human girl who was allergic to her own skin (you loved Yui to bits, but damnit if she didn’t get you into trouble all the time) on some days along with dealing with a bunch of perverted, self-important, assholes for him...so why..WHY was he responding to Julia....like he was single.

“I’m going class.” you grumbled. “See you later.”

“Y/N WAIT!”

...(Meanwhile)

Ayato needed to pass his English Lit. Class project, so of course when that Julia girl offered to type his report for him, he couldn’t say no. He had to pretend he wasn’t disgusted by her if he was going to remain in the top 5% of people with an actual brain. Fuck being like the other students.

“Y/N WAIT!”

“That sounded like Yui.” Reiji commented. They were surprised to see you bolted down the hallway at full speed with Yui on your tail. She skid to a stop to glare at Ayato.

“You’ve really done it this time.” was all she said before she ran off. “Y/N!! COME BACK!”

“Smooth move, moron.” Yuma called from the other side. “Looks like I get to play knight in shining armor.” he winked.

“Ayato~” Julia got his attention, “make sure to meet me in the library so I can give you your essay.”

“Yeah, sure whatever.” Ayato watched at Yui chased you down the hall.

... (Lunchtime/Free Period)

You sat in the courtyard, sadly staring at a sketchbook page You liked to paint or draw school life in the quad. You had started with a sketch of the Sakamaki brothers, but it didn’t feel right.

You’d probably get in trouble, but you just had to draw Yuma Mukami who was sitting by the fountain. You looked up every so often, hoping he didn’t see you.

“Y/N!” You heard. You turned your head to the side to see Ayato sitting with his brothers. “COME OVER HERE.”

Wordlessly, you grabbed your sketchbook...only to walk to the other side of the quad. You sat at another table, focusing back on your artwork.

“Hey...”A shadow was cast over your work.

“Do you mind?” you grumbled. “You’re blocking my light source.”

“Hm, I was just thinking you’d wanna see the reference up close.”

Your head darted up to see Yuma, standing in front of you. “May I sit.”

“Do whatever you want.” you grumbled. “I don’t care.”

Ayato watched from the other side of the court yard as that smug playful bastard took your sketchbook from in front of you and began flipping through it. Why hadn’t you sat with him today?? That Mukami dickwad had better not touch you.

He watched as Yuma flirted with you, and thankfully you didn’t seem to fall for his charms. Though that half smile you gave when he gave you a flower that had been growing nearby was enough to make him angry.

“AYATOOOO~” Julia practically threw herself into the spot where you usually sat when you sat with him. “I finished your report!”

“Great. Sure, whatever.” he glared potholes at Yuma.

“So...do you wanna eat lunch together?”

“That’s nice, Maria.”

“It’s Julia...”

“Sure whatever.”

(Meanwhile)

“There’s that smile.” he winked as you looked at the flower.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Also, next time you draw me...let’s have it be a nude painting huh?” He winked, getting up.

“Gross.” you scoffed, standing up yourself. “See you in Biology.” you cringed.

“Y/N!” you heard Ayato’s voice call again. Just ignore him...(Read more below the break)

... (Smut warning)

When you got home, you locked yourself in your room. You had told Yui to not bother trying to make you feel better, because it wouldn’t work. You had just finished your homework when-

“Y/N! LET ME IN!” Ayato angrily knocked at the door. When he didn’t hear anything back, he decided that the window would have to suffice. “FINE! YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE.”

“Oh shit!” you began to run towards the window, hoping to shut it when Ayato practically appeared out of nowhere with a frown on his face.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” he glowered. When you didn’t answer, he grew more agitated. “Y/N, Don’t make me ask again.” Still nothing. “Y/N, You have three seconds to tell me-”

“Why don’t you ask Julia!” you finally snapped. “You sure seem to like flirting with HER.”

“What? I’d never flirt with that disgusting-”

“SO KISSING HER HAND THIS MORNING WASN’T FLIRTING! Yui and I saw you! She touched your arm and you didn’t even move!” you accused.

“Y/N, let me explain!”

“YOU DON’T NEED TO! You don’t love me anymore!” you pointed. “So go be with her! Go flirt with her! Go and spend time with her because that all you seemed to be interested in doing today!”

Ayato gasped, he finally realized what Yui had been talking about when she said ‘You really done it this time.’ He hadn’t even realized it, but he had been busy with Julia all day that by the time he got free time. He thought-

“You gonna let me talk now, Human?” he used the pet-name he coined for you. “I don’t love Julia. And I wasn’t flirting with her because I don’t love you.”

“Huh?”

“She was doing my English Lit. paper and I had to make her think she was worth my time.” he explained. “She had to think I was actually interested in her or else she’d make a scene. She knew what this exchange was. A litle bit of attention and that A+ was as good as mine. I passed by the way.” he winked.

“S-so, you don’t love her?” you wiped your eyes.

“Of course not! How many times have I told you that my heart only belongs to you?” He asked. “Idiot.” he shook his head with an amused smile. “As if that plain, lowly human could ever compare to my own personal descendant of the goddeses that made this wicked world.” he bit his lip.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was running out of time. I would have told you, had you sat with me at lunch today.” he rolled his eyes. “...Y/N, please accept my deepest apology. I wouldn’t hurt you...unless you asked.” he wiggled his eyebrows at the last part. “Now come here.”

He grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him, taking you in a long drawn out kiss. He purposefully moaned in your mouth, laughing maniacally through each peck.

“Me, and that disgusting excuse- how laughable.” he began kissing down your neck. “I guess I’ll have to show you that you’re mine and will only ever be mine.”

“Ayato~” you whimpered.

“Shush.” he kissed you again. “ Fuck! “ he kept kissing your lips “You’re mine. You’re fucking mine and I’m fucking yours. .” He backed you up towards the bed. “Usually I’d ask you to suck my dick first, but I want everything to be about you.” he made you sit down. “Aww, you didn’t take off your uniform, so I can take your panties off right now.” he smirked.

Had he lost his mind?!?

“Have you lost your mind?!?” your legs shook as your panties were discarded who knew where.

“I’ve always wanted to defile you while you were wearing it, so you can think of me every single time you put it on. Mmmmff-” he buried his head between your legs, exploring your depths with his tongue.

You took in a sharp breath, instantly arching your back in his favor. Good, that was his invitation to go forward. “Y/N, you taste so fucking good-” he laughed gleefully. “I wanna bite your clit and taste the blood right from your naughty place.” he moaned, lashing his tongue against your heat.

“Ayato, It feels so-” you mewled. “M-more, please?”

Hearing this, he went feral. He dug his nails into your thighs, sucking harshly at your slit. You had to hold the back of his head to stay vertical, your hands tangled through his lush hair.

“ That’s it, grab my hair. Yank it, pull me back into your pussy-mmm. “ he couldn’t even finish his sentence. He was so hungry that not even a snide comment could leave his lips while he tasted you. He’d never do this with anyone else, love anyone else. He was having too much fun worshipping his beautiful human.

“Ayato- I’m gonna c-cu-”

“Cum. Let me taste you. Let me feel it against me, let me drive my fangs into your thighs while you cum so you can feel what true ecstasy feels like.”

You felt yourself unravel, only to feel those fangs dig into your left thigh. “Ungh! Ayato!!” you cried.

“Fuck, Y/N.” he lapped up your blood. “It tastes even better when you’re cumming.” he bit his lip. “I wanna feel you wrap around me.” he crawled over you, capturing your mouth in a long, messy kiss.

You were surprised when he moved you two so you were straddling him. “Undo my jeans, take what’s yours, Y/N.” he bit his lips.

You shyly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled then down along with his boxers. You were welcomed by a very obvious hardon.

His cock slapped against his stomach as it was set free.

“C-can I, touch?”

“It’s yours.” he winked. “Do whatever you want to me.”

You began stroking him, coaxing a low satisfied moan from your lover. You wanted to be mean and leave him but who were you kidding, you both needed it.

“Is it too forward to ask you to ride my cock?” he asked, biting his lip. “Please?”

He caressed your thighs, coaxing you to slip his dick along the perimeter of your slit. You met his eyes, but could only shyly look away.

“Oh Goooodd-” he sucked in air as his dick slipped inside. You shy rocked your hips, coaxing another moan out of him. His hands rested on your thighs. “Shit, Y/N, Why are you so fucking- Ungh...Shit I can’t take much more.” he thrusted his hips upwards.

A small gasp hitched in your throat, followed by many as he thrust himself in and out of you. You wanted some sort of control too, so you rolled your hips even more against him. “Shit. Ayato~” you moaned. “Fuuuh-”

“Why would I want anyone else when you’re here with me.” he spoke. “Why would I NEED anyone else!” he growled. “You’re mine! I’m Yours, that’s how to fuck it should be!” he seethed. “Fuck your pussy feels so good.”

He was absolutely right, you didn’t think even washing this uniform would get his essence out of it.

“Shit!!” Ayato threw his head back, moaning like you had never seen him moan before. You didn’t even think he could even make such a face. “Y/N!!! “ he cried. “I fucking love you so much, Fuck, S-shit!! Fuck say it back, please.”

“Ayato,” you felt his cock twitch inside. “I love you-haah-aah!”

“ How do you ride me so good? God damn, you’re gonna break me! “ he cried, digging his nails into your thighs. “Fuck Y/N this is what you to do me!!”

You both were loud, sensitive, and on the brinK of breaking.

“I’m gonna CU---AAAHH FUUCCK!” you felt his warmth spill inside you. You were taken aback by him wrapped a hand around your neck and pulling you down to kiss you abruptly. He moaned loudly into your mouth, crying in euphoria as he bottomed out inside your wetness.

“Y/N!” he cried once more. “Fuck I love you.” his face twisted in pleasure, those usually stern eyebrows going soft. “I fucking love you. My human, My only human~.” he hugged you close.

“Ayato~” you replied just as wantonly. “I love you.” you whimpered.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook for ignoring me today, now it’s my turn to get revenge.” you heard his breathless laugh. “Shall we continue?”

(I.....AM SO SORRY FOR THIS)

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elriell · 3 years

Text

Two Mates? Elriel & (El)ucien Theory.

These are just a few of my thoughts compiled together regarding having two mates, the signs and breadcrumbs Sarah has incorporated. If you know me you know am a Lucien fan so this is nothing hateful towards him and we will be looking at his place within it all as well, that being said this will have bond rejection/misalignment talk so if that is not your cup of tea I understand and you can skip this! As always I would love to hear everyones thoughts so long as we are all respectful ♡

Let's start by discussing the where the two ships align and parallel mates behaviour, and then we will discuss where their arc's veer from each other...

“TOUCH HER, SMELL HER, TASTE HER– THE INSTINCTS WERE A RUNNING RIVER.” (Lucien in ACOWAR about the mating bond.)

“Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.”

“Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.”

“They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. ”

“He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent. ”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. ”

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like.”

“This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. ”

Now you can easily parallel this to any of SJM's mates, like Feysand or Nessian. But for the sake of brevity I will leave you with the original link to the wonderful @suelky post where it was pointed out w/ Feysand quotes as well. [source]

Also "The instincts were a running river.” sounds a little like “Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea."

The Bonus POV has a lot of typical "Mates" behaviours manifesting between Elain and Azriel, and it would make sense this would be a extreme POV shift as we have never been inside either of their heads before so we were bound to have a major learning curve, especially with Az who is so reserved with his emotions.

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—”

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her." Azriel snarled softly.”

There are countless main trio parallels but most of you are aware of which one is my favourite...

“Knelt on those stars and mountains inked on his knees. He would bow for no one and nothing— But his mate. His equal.”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.”

"Every instinct in his body came roaring to the surface, so violent he had to choke them with a brutal grip or else he'd find himself on his knees, begging her for touch, for anything."

And on to where they go their separate ways from a textual perspective;

"Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.”

“Rhys kissed the hollow of my collarbone, and my core went utterly molten. “My brave, bold, brilliant mate.”

“You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look—which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don’t want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself.”

“And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind.”

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.” He kissed my brow one more time, my blood thrumming and boiling in me, howling to draw blood.”

I think finding freedom and power from within is something that the books have emphasized through Feysand and Nessian's journey's. Which is so interesting considering Lucien and Elain are both feeling tied to each other, as if in a cage of sorts.

Elain herself has been stuffed in to a box of other peoples making throughout most of the series, it quite prevalent she might feel caged by their opinions of who she is.

"Maybe she was never given a chance to be that way." I whipped my head towards him. "You think I stifle her?" Rhys held up his hands. "Not you alone."

“Nesta had been right. It was like a prison, this place.” [Graysen's Manor]

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers. Our mother made sure we knew it. Or she just cared so little what we thought or did that she didn’t bother to hide it from us.”

And as for Lucien I think his duty and honour to her is what is caging him;

“I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.”

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

Godbless Azriel for respecting Elain's privacy.

I think we would see/understand a lot more if we got a chance inside their heads but the one time we did see Lucien's POV we got a good glimpse at how he feels about his situation with Elain and it wasn't particularly positive and reminded me of Rhy's parents.

"She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.”

“...to remember that she picked it. Picked me. That it’s not like my parents, shoved together.”

Not using the word cage per say but the implication isn't much better.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

“So is Azriel.”

I don't think the debate is really whether Lucien is deserving of her, or even Azriel for that matter, it is a question of who is actually right for her and vice-versa, who has she been consistently written to thrive and smile alongside. And that is Azriel.

Why does Sarah constantly put Azriel in the picture, from day DOT. She was screaming "hey look Azriel is here, and they would work magically together"

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.”

There are several instances/evens that occur throughout the series that set both Elucien and Elriel's relationships apart, and I think it is highly intentional on Sarah's part...

“I said quietly, “We will get her back.” But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.”

“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Or we can look at both Solstice's and the clear differences in how their relationships are growing, and also how well one and other know each other.

“Tell me when you knew,” he demanded, his knee pressing into mine. “That Rhysand was your mate. Tell me when you stopped loving Tamlin and started loving him instead.”

“He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.”

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.” “To know what?” He hitched my damp cloak higher around us. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

GIFTS REFLECTING THEIR RELATIONSHIP MILE MARKS

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” “And torn up by thorns,” I mused,”

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

“He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

Not only is she visibly uninterested which is painful to watch, it also highlights how little he knows about her. SJM is creating a visible gap in their dynamic.

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. ”

“My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen … You shall wed for conquest.”

“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ”

“She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

“I led her into the sitting room, where Cassian had a bottle of amber-colored liquor in each hand, Azriel was already rubbing his temples,”

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there.”

“Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...”

See yet again a very thoughtful and funny gift on her part. Now at it's core even just simply comparing their general reactions says a lot about the story Sarah is putting forward.

"Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly."

"Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. "

The writing is nothing if not clear about the discomfort both Lucien and Elain feel in regards to each other, though they lay under different reasons.

We are given multiple incidents in which we are told about how mating bonds are not perfect and we are given clear examples of it repeatedly, about woman enduring out of obligation, and do not forget this is heavily discussed literally in regards to Elain and her circumstances.

“She’d been revealed as his mate, and endured the miserable union mostly from gratitude for her unharmed wings.”

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.” I peeled off my dressing robe. “So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. "

“She glowed with good health. Except … Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien. The male was definitely in the family room,”

“Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around,”

“Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.”

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

“Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

What if ”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

“Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“ I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”

The romantic subtext is there and has been for quite some time, they prove it book after book when SJM continues to grow their bond and nurture it whilst breaking her connection with Lucien further apart, and for what reason?

“A mating bond can be rejected,” Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. “There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some… preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” [...]

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

It is remarkably interesting to me that we are told about what Rhys suspects/believes is responsible for mating bonds, paralleled alongside Azriel questioning it all, I also think it is abundantly clear from his answer to Feyre he doesn't truly know for sure.

We also have several lines of dialogue talking about the sisters and fate, their reason for entering the IC's life. Not only that but we get a glimpse at Azriel's personality and how despite the world (Rhys and the mating bond in general) telling him to despair, he still found it in him to have hope the Cauldron could be wrong.

This is so significant, and she has carefully woven his character throughout the series to make this incredibly plausible.

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”

“And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”

“All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.”

“Even after the bond is rejected, they see her as belonging to them. Sometimes they return to challenge the male she chooses for herself. Sometimes it ends in death. It is savage, and it is ugly, and it mercifully does not happen often, but …”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

As you can see even back in ACOWAR she was weaving the web for Elriel's journey and an upcoming Blood Duel/The threat of one.

“Many mated pairs will try to make it work, believing the Cauldron selected them for a reason. Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

I think it is pretty clear from all the quotes above that Lucien is no her ideal spirit and vice-versa to be frank when you put it side by side his budding relationship with Vassa or hers with Azriel they are clearly very different.

“On the continent, there are territories that believe the females literally belong to their mate. But not here. Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond.”

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. ”

Elain is choosing Azriel, choosing their bond over the one assigned to her time and time again... Back to mating bonds;

“The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

“The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

"She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.”

“Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.”

"Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

“Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

“But Azriel nodded. “You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.” Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.”

Are you telling me that Madja saying a mate would know, would sense whatever is going on with her, and as it turns out Azriel was the one to sense and uncover it is solely what, a coincidence? Also to emphasize what she said about "A bridge between souls..." Where else have we heard that terminology? The Truth-Teller scene.

“I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”

Not to mention this scene is simply iconic for a multitude of reasons, how poetic Feyre describes them, the clear soulmates/ying-yang subtext and him giving her something he has given no other but that's another story.

Azriel has also been displaying some very protective fiercely so mating vibes towards her,

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. ”

“Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him.”

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

“Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. “Where did Lucien go.”

I think there are some mixed opinions on Lucien and whether he deserves her (and vice-versa in this fandom) but I don't think that is what this comes down too, they are both handling it in the way they think best/following their instincts.

Lucien is hurting throughout this process as well, but I think ultimately it is honor and loyalty binding him to her not any genuine emotion for her as a human being fae. I think realising they are not meant for each other and supporting each other developing true bonds with other people will be their journey. And it would be a completely fresh and new view of a mating bond.

Smaller pieces of dialogue that need little explaining and a rather oddly specific choice of words in the latest book that is meant to set up the next one in the series:

“You’d know if she’d died,” Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother’s chest with a scarred hand. “Right here—you’d know, Cass.”

“Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.”

"I'd never do such a thing. you must be thinking of your other mate."

Honestly? At this rate I have no doubt Elriel are endgame and everything within canon text spells that out but I truly believe he will be her second mate/the will form a bond via some circumstance that shall arise due to these little hints.

I would love to hear your thoughts and/or additions because I by all means didn't do a massive deep dive and there are most likely tons more examples to add but I didn't want it to become overwhelming to read!

Hope everyone has a spectacular and magical evening <3

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #acotar #acosf #acowar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #elriel mates #elriel theories #elriel metas #anti elucien #tb safe and all that #dont want it falling in the wrong tag #c

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marvellovegalore · 3 years

Text

Loving You

Chris Evans

Synopsis: Chris is over the moon, he's met you and life couldn't be better - you're all he's ever dreamed of and there's nothing you could do to ruin that.

Warning: explicit language, sexual content

No one in your industry would ever consider you difficult to work with, neither mean, arrogant, conniving or calculating. Most would go out of their way to praise you, proclaim their adoration for the movie star of dreams. On the other hand, your previous partners would. Ex-boyfriends that would bravely volunteer to be interviewed about your past relationship would recount their experiences with the same look as a shell-shocked soldier. If they could, they would gather in a support group for those left with deeply affecting, unresolved trauma - left by you.

You would deny it, if you could be bothered; or if the media had declared your heartbreaker ways to be of public interest. Which they are, but you’re largely untouchable therefore they're unreported. A Hollywood starlet, philanthropist, trend setter and tastemaker - alongside with being viewed largely as a sweetheart. Your childhood nannies coming in storming with adulations and saccharine recollections of a sweet and shy child. Friends that are more than happy to celebrate you on social media and fans who fill the internet with high production videos of you strutting on the streets and red carpets cement the idea that you are the moment, and you are loved.

To the world outside of the sphere of your ex-boyfriends, you were the most eligible bachelorette. There was no flaw in sight, no illusion to dispel or enchantment to break; you’re the real deal. Until you get bored, and you need to hurt someone. Because hurt people, hurt people. As the saying goes. There’s no need to go into that - just yet.

So, when Christopher saw you at the 2019 Vanity Fair Oscars after party, he fell head over heels. Your eyes cast a spell on him, and the enchantment was cast by the world’s master mage, you. You barely realised what you did, you were in no mood to flirt or truly fraternise. You were attempting to drown your sorrows of missing out on another Oscar win for the second time - in a mojito glass. You looked spectacular, possibly more than how you looked during the ceremony. But to Chris, your face of indignation looked like the angelic expression of a good second place loser with no hard feelings. He attempted to approach you, but too many people go into his way, they came with unprovoked film criticisms and pseudo interview responses that would get them into the academy board. All he wanted was to see your face up close and know how you spoke when you weren’t being regarded by a crowd of enraptured spectators.

He could see that you weren’t being left alone either, you hadn’t won the Oscar, but you are being treated as if you did. Your eyes bounce off of him every once in a while, but he couldn’t capture your attention - and then you left the party. You hardly made the French exit you were seeking. Stars old and young clamoured to say their goodbyes and kisses on your cheeks. You finally managed to escape. If Chris were to attempt to lie and say that he wasn’t disappointed, a blind woman could have seen right through him. His heart dropped, and he couldn’t explain why - he didn’t even know you.

Some other actor friends managed to drag him to a more intimate after party, the setting hardly intimate. A compound nestled in Hidden Hills, twenty-four-hour security circling the property, of one starlet who presented herself at the beginning of the night but chose an early slumber rather than socialising.

You came in half an hour after him, a miniskirt showing off your incredible legs - which were insured for an absurd amount.

His breath caught in his mouth. You were dressed down, but you looked too incredible to even try and claim you didn’t try. Everyone’s head turned and everyone was captured by the beauty at the door, accompanied by a friend. Your demure appearance fooling everyone into thinking that the attention was unwanted. You grabbed yourself a drink and half an hour later you were still enveloped with a group of equally intoxicated friends.

Though, Chris was determined to get your attention. He grabbed a drink off of the barman and slowly and easily made his way to you. The word ‘chill’ being chanted over and over again in his head. He was dead set on not making a fool of himself. Three steps away from you, glass of mojito clutched in his hands, his anxiety being beaten down and desperately suffocated into his stomach and away from his brain. He goes over his words, and before he finishes walking to you, you turn suddenly.

Your eyes pierce into his, a smirk glossing your lips. “Hi.” Your voice is low, characteristically different from your stage voice - your accent just as strong.

“Hey, got this for you.” Chris thrusts the glass into your unexpectant hand, some of the drink splashing out over the frosted rim. “Hope, it’s not too presumptive of me to have gotten it for you?” His eyes have glossed over, he shifts his weight from one foot to another. You shake your head no, a sweet smile playing at your lips. He’s even easier on the eyes much closer up. “Sorry you didn’t win that Oscar, real shame, I was rooting for you!”

You store it in the back of your mind that this man manages to look like a golden retriever even when he’s several drinks down, “It’s nothing, what does it mean anyway, I’ll still get more jobs in the future.” You take a sip of your drink after he takes a sip of his.

He compliments your eyes, your complexion and goes on an eager rant of how much he admires your capacity for acting. You drink in the adoration diluted by alcohol and take his words with a pinch of salt. After twenty minutes of solid, drunken conversation you’ve moved to a nook shadowed by statues. Your legs next to his on the red velvet sofa. You remark on the class of the artistic statues, clearly purchased illegally from a Mediterranean museum. He barely takes in your words, much preferring to intoxicate himself with the sight of you - and his fifth beer.

You’ve decided that you want him. Badly. But you’ve sussed him out. He’s not just going to be a one-night stand - in the animal kingdom he’s a Golden Retriever, and those aren’t dogs to be messed with. Your last fling was essentially a Doberman pinscher - discardable - but this Chris had to reeled in slowly.

You interrupt his musing about the Boston markets with a kiss.

Your lips smoothly capture his, your lipstick smearing over his lips. His hand presses tightly on the small of your back, arm underneath your waist holding you up higher. Stars explode inside your eyelids and his fingers grip tightly onto your shirt as your tongue licks his bottom lip. Your entry is granted, you lips pressing tighter against each other. Your eyelashes dance over his. Your hands rise to his face, your hands imprinting themselves onto his cheekbones. His hand brushes over the bare skin of your leg, his fingertips tracing the insides of your thighs. A small moan rises from the back of his throat.

The hold you have on him is cemented, you part away from him. You untangle yourself from him and stand up from the sofa, your eyes refusing to look at him, you smooth your clothes and slowly strut away from him.

Chris looks at the fire that you’ve set on his limbs in disbelief, he doesn’t grasp what you’ve just done. Did he do something wrong? Does he smell? No. You just didn’t care for the ceremony of the first ‘after-kiss’ moments.

He doesn’t see you for a year.

You truly are elusive - to the media and him.

He couldn’t get you out of his mind, and the fact that you starred in another award-nominated film did little to help him forget you.

You were curious to understand whether you really enticed him or not. You decided to not pursue that line of questioning, and never bothered to reply to his direct messages. It wasn’t done with the intent of hurting him, you just didn’t care. But life has a way of putting things in your way that deep down you didn’t know you wanted.

Nevertheless, here you are, with your boyfriend of a year - Christopher, sat across from you telling you story about his nephew. You simper, your eyes flitting between the sight of him and the view of the sea. The coast of Martha’s Vineyard enraptures you, you drink your wine, eyes steadily moving to the coastal view.

You grew up coming here. Your family often choosing the quiet island to rest in during the late spring holidays. You brought Chris back here to stay at your family holiday home as it’s not too far from his own family home, a perfect last stop after spending the week with his family.

He watches you curiously, his blue irises begging you to let him in to your thoughts. You refuse silently and beckon the waiter. You ask for the bill, it’s quickly on the table and you pay - ignoring Chris’ refusals. You smile at him, for the second time during dinner. He responds in kind, remarking on your bad mood and how he’s glad you’ve cheered up after having some food. He muses on the lovely weekend you’ve had together as you leave the restaurant. Candlelight following you as you make your exit with your hands holding each other tightly, his other hand in his preppy shorts.

You walk slowly, watching the sunset. His arm finding its way around your shoulders. His sweet and intimate embrace enveloping you in warmth. Your heart beats quickly against his bicep as you near your home. Your hands tremble for some reason and you practically sprint up the porch steps after you’ve crossed the gate and walkway, leaving Chris five steps behind you.

You open the door and make a quick beeline for the kitchen in the far back of the house. You enter the pantry, ignoring Chris’ questions of what is wrong. You take a bottle of Rosé out of the wine fridge and forgo pouring it into a glass and drink it straight from the bottle. It tastes incredibly sweet, and Chris finds you eventually in the pantry. He looks at you in surprise as you gulp the drink.

“Everything okay, baby?” He walks to you, his hands failing onto your hips, his adoring eyes almost boring into your soul. You refuse him entry into the pits of your emotions. Steeling yourself against the onslaught of therapy-like talk.

You don’t want him to know that hurt people, hurt people. And that you’re one of them.

You kiss him, silencing his calming words.

His fingers tighten on your sundress. The colour melding with the colour of his fingers. Your lips become one.

You go through the steps of getting out of the pantry in a seemingly choreographed dance, your dance ends in the smaller reception room; your bodies tangling themselves on the rug. Neither of you giving a care to fact that you’re undressing in front of the window overlooking the pool and coast.

The flickers of the setting sun’s rays highlight his now bare chest. He returns his lips to yours in a hypnotising kiss. Your hands dance with the muscles of his back as you caress his skin, his torso vibrating in between your legs with the fervour of his movements. Your dress is ripped off your body. He directs his attention to your right breast, his soft lips caressing your skin. His tongue lashes slowly against your nipple, you fight to hold back your moans as his hand lowers to your pussy. His fingers pushing aside your pants, his fingers sink into you like it’s their second nature. Your head rolls back as he makes love to you with his fingers and his lips lower down to where his fingers are. He licks you where you need him most, his love for you being written inside you with his tongue.

You orgasm. Slowly.

And all that runs through your mind is how much you’ll miss him.

You pull him up to you, you turn over and straddle him. Tasting yourself on his lips as the sun sets even lower. The waves crash against the shore violently as the wind picks up. You lower yourself onto him and start riding him, your hips bucking in an impassioned manner against his. He doesn’t hold back his moans as he caresses your breasts and stomach.

You realised you loved him four months ago, but every time you catch sight of his loving eyes when you’re fucking, it makes you fall in love all over again.

Chris switches and puts you on all fours, he grips your hair in his hands, the rising intensity making him grip you harder. His thrusts are merciless, his spare hand spanking you and stroking, you’re on the cusp of a sensory overload when he turns you over. On your back you have the most beautiful view. A strong ray of sunlight brightening his eyes as he makes love to you. His kisses are tender but intense. His hand grips onto yours, your fingers intertwined and his other hand griping onto your face.

A tear slips out of your eye, you wipe it away quickly. Your increased sensitivity makes the second orgasm come, Chris fucks you through your breathy moans and you throw your head back. Momentarily blinded by the bliss; the pink sky wakes up from the saccharine, cloudy state. Chris orgasms into you with four thrusts.

You push away from him and stand up; you pull on your silky pants. You sigh and leave Chris on laying breathless on the rug. You walk upstairs and enter your room. You use the toilet, wash your hands, have a glass of water and throw on a short black dress. As you pull on your boots Chris enters the room, a smile gracing his lips.

He pulls on some shorts, “Want to tell me what all that was about?” He gives you a confused expression as he lies back against the bed, taking one of the fluffed pillows from behind him and tucking it between his chest and arms.

Hurt people, hurt people.

You turn towards him, facing away from your walk-in closet. “When we fuck, I have to think about other men to get through it.”

His eyes widen alarmingly, he turns to you, the light of the tv making him blue. “Say that again?” The disbelief is almost tangible in his words.

“I feel embarrassed about being seen with you now. I feel I’m just too good for you.” You walk into the closet and you hear him stomp off the bed.

“No, rewind to what you first said.” His voice is louder, his features twisted with confusion and hurt.

“I have to think of other guys to get off,” your eyes connect with his, you don’t look away, you fight the smirk biting at your lips. “I can’t stand the thought of being with you any longer. I’m sick of it.” You grab the suitcase that was packed for you when you were at the restaurant. “Also, you’re not as ripped as you were when we met, there’s other guys that can provide that image for me.”

“Take it back.” The hurt he’s feeling is completely tangible now. “Take it back right now. Right. Now.” His eyes are pleading with you to have mercy.

You've decided that you've gone past the point of no return. “I’d be happy never have to see you or have to hear from you - ever again.” You scan his eyes, your heart swelling with an eerie feeling of pride as his eyes flood with held back tears.

“This must be some elaborate prank— “he chokes on his words, his hands reach for yours, but you step back.

“This year has been tedious, completely boring and I’ve gotten nothing but only ten decent fucks from you.” Not true, and both of you can attest to that, you've had the best sex, your mutual adoration is clear when you make love. So, Chris is at a loss to understand how this is all being said and happening. “I’m off to New York, stay as long as you like or don’t. I don’t care. Have a nice life.” You slip past him.

Taking his heart and soul with you.

He can’t stop the tears from ballooning in his eyes and then trickling down his cheeks.

He must be stuck in a nightmare. He doesn’t know how long he’s been pacing in this closet filled with your clothes, your smell haunting him.

He rushes downstairs and there’s no sign of you. He stumbles outside and there’s no sign of you or your driver. He rushes in to get his phone and calls you. Five times. The sixth time it goes straight to voicemail.

He feels his heart break.

He falls right in the spot he’s in. He vomits his heart out, the pieces being spat out onto the wooden floors. The blood shinning underneath the soft lights of the lamps.

He wants death. Slow and steady death.

——

Part Deux -

#chris evans imagine #chris evans #chris evans blurb #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel #captain america #steve x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #andy barber #andy barber imagine #andy barber fluff #Chris Evans angst

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

Novelty

Jiang Cheng doesn’t speak much. One would think that would mean that people listen even more to him when he does say something, but one would be wrong.

Jiang Cheng learned very early on that no one cares about what he has to say; it didn’t start with Wei Wuxian’s arrival, but it certainly didn’t help either.

Wei Wuxian is a chatter box; there’s always something he has to say, no matter if it’s of sustenance or not but no one ever seems to care. People are listening to him, and they indulge him and that’s really all that matters, isn’t it.

Not so much with Jiang Cheng. If he says something without sustenance, people get bored and tune him out; if he is asked a question and he starts rambling on, people lose interest and move on.

So Jiang Cheng didn’t only learn to keep silent most of the time, he also had to learn that he has a very short time window in which people will give him attention. Attention usually comes together with eye-contact, and Jiang Cheng learned to make the most of that.

So he doesn’t talk much, and when he does his answers are short and on point. It seems like everyone prefers it that way, and Jiang Cheng learned to accept it.

His gruff nature helps him with this, actually, because people expect him to be taciturn so no one questions it much.

Jiang Cheng thinks his parents are glad he doesn’t talk much, because that means they don’t have to give him too much attention and Wei Wuxian is talking enough for two, so he mostly doesn’t notice if all Jiang Cheng contributes to a conversation are some grunts and hums.

It works for them.

Jiang Yanli—now things with her are a little bit different. She tries to get him to talk regularly, never taking for granted that Jiang Cheng simply doesn’t want to talk or has nothing to say, but her attention is so easily snatched away by Wei Wuxian that Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother to talk with her either.

Sometimes he will try—because he can never help himself, always hoping that maybe things are different now, that she will listen to what he has to say—but before he can make it past the two sentence mark, Wei Wuxian will chime in and Jiang Yanli will give him an apologetic look and then the moment is gone.

It happened often enough that Jiang Cheng gave up trying with her too.

It’s okay that no one wants to hear him talk; it’s not like he has anything interesting to say anyway.

A tiny part of Jiang Cheng hoped that things would change in the Cloud Recesses, but since Wei Wuxian is still always at this side, everything stays just the same.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian don’t share a room here at least—Jiang Cheng feels bad for being relieved by that but he can’t help it—so he gets some time to himself, but it also means that Wei Wuxian can get up to all kinds of shenanigans without his supervision.

Shenanigans he desperately wants to share the next morning, so Jiang Cheng learned to expect Wei Wuxian to crash into him on their way to the hall where they’ll take breakfast.

“Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng, how are you?” Wei Wuxian cries out, just loud enough to attract the ire of a senior Lan disciple who is walking in front of them and Jiang Cheng elbows him in the stomach.

“I’m fine,” he gets out, right before something else catches Wei Wuxian’s attention and his eyes slide away from him.

These days Jiang Cheng is proud that he manages to say even that before something snatches Wei Wuxian’s flighty attention away from him, though he doesn’t even get the chance to ask Wei Wuxian how he has been doing.

He’ll probably tell him all about it, anyway.

“Huaisang!” Wei Wuxian yells, waving his arm so Nie Huaisang will definitely notice them, as if there’s any chance that someone could miss Wei Wuxian.

“Jiang-xiong, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang says and flicks open his fan. “Why are you this awake, it’s too early to be this awake,” he then whines and Jiang Cheng has to hide his smile with a frown.

He likes Nie Huaisang; he’s fun to be around, and he’s not half as lazy as he wants everyone make to believe and Jiang Cheng is curious to see how far he’ll take his rouse.

But Nie Huaisang is just as enamoured with Wei Wuxian as everyone else is, and Jiang Cheng is under no illusions that he’s just accepting Jiang Cheng’s presence as inevitable.

“It’s never to early to be awake, especially not when you can do so many new things here,” Wei Wuxian says and Nie Huaisang sighs.

“Jiang-xiong, you’re more sensible than this right? How are you?” Nie Huaisang asks him, but before Jiang Cheng can even answer, Nie Huaisang looks at Wei Wuxian who took the opportunity to throw his arm around Nie Huaisang’s neck, and Jiang Cheng knows there’s no reason to answer now.

No one will hear him anyway.

“Listen, Huaisang, how about we meet this night?”

“You mean after curfew?” Jiang Cheng can’t help but to snap out at that, because he doesn’t want to be kicked out of the Cloud Recesses before he even had a chance to learn anything, but Wei Wuxian only waves him off.

“I’ll get some alcohol in, and you’ll bring the snacks, how about it?” Wei Wuxian goes on as if Jiang Cheng didn’t say anything at all and Jiang Cheng turns away from them.

No amount of protest will make Wei Wuxian change his mind and Jiang Cheng is too exhausted to try. Wei Wuxian will get into trouble like he always will, and Jiang Cheng will bear the brunt of it, like he always will.

It’s stupid to expect anything else, just because they are not at home at the moment.

“Don’t count me in,” Jiang Cheng mutters, more to himself than to Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang who are still talking to each other, and then he picks up his pace to get away from them for a bit.

Classes are fine, mostly; Jiang Cheng would love it if Wei Wuxian could manage to not cause trouble for five minutes, just so that Jiang Cheng can learn something and doesn’t always have to feel like he needs to be defending his shixiong but Jiang Cheng never gets what he wants and so he has to watch as Wei Wuxian sticks the drawing of a turtle on Lan Qiren’s back.

Jiang Cheng grinds his teeth at that, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s unwilling to draw even more attention to it, and it’s not like Wei Wuxian ever listens to him anyway, so what’s the point.

Wei Wuxian still manages to get thrown out of class and for all that Jiang Cheng hates himself a little bit for thinking it, he’s glad about it.

At least like that he gets to enjoy half of the class uninterrupted.

When class finally ends, Jiang Cheng intends to study the parts of class he missed before due to Wei Wuxian’s shenanigans, but before he can leave, Nie Huaisang catches up to him.

“Jiang-xiong,” he says and leans into his space. “You didn’t answer before. How are you?” he asks him, his face for once not hidden behind his fan, and Jiang Cheng frowns at him.

“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng tells him, waiting for the moment when something else catches Nie Huaisang’s attention.

But the seconds tick by and Nie Huaisang keeps looking at him as if he’s expecting Jiang Cheng to say something more and Jiang Cheng’s frown deepens.

“What?” he bites out, because attention like this is never good when it comes to Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang flutters his fan.

“You’re not a man of many words, are you?” Nie Huaisang asks him and Jiang Cheng tenses at that.

“What does it matter?” he snaps out. “It’s not like anyone is listening anyway,” he lowly tacks on, but it seems like Nie Huaisang still picked up on it.

“Wei-xiong does get a bit much sometimes, right? You can barely get a word in. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to live with that,” Nie Huaisang muses and now Jiang Cheng is openly staring at him.

“What do you mean?” he carefully asks because he cannot believe that Nie Huaisang picked up on something no one else noticed before.

“It must be hard talking on to Wei-xiong all day long,” Nie Huaisang softly says, clearly picking up on Jiang Cheng’s mood.

“Maybe I don’t like talking,” Jiang Cheng says but Nie Huaisang’s eyes tell him just how believable he is.

“Don’t you?” he asks and Jiang Cheng looks away from him.

It’s the first time in a long while that someone is paying this much attention to him and Jiang Cheng has to admit that he no longer knows how to deal with that.

“What do you want?” he brusquely asks instead of answering Nie Huaisang and Nie Huaisang is silent for long enough that Jiang Cheng fears he already lost his attention again.

It would be just like Jiang Cheng’s luck.

“I want to know more about you,” Nie Huaisang says, catching Jiang Cheng completely off guard with that answer.

“There’s nothing to know about me,” Jiang Cheng snaps at him but when he turns around to look at Nie Huaisang again, he’s still staring at him.

“I don’t think that’s true at all,” Nie Huaisang says, and there’s a calculating look in his eyes. “You were very interested in the history part of the lesson today, right? I saw you listening. Are you interested in history?”

Jiang Cheng blinks at him, because no one asked something like this about him before and Jiang Cheng is unsure how to deal with that.

He distantly wonders how long Nie Huaisang will insist on pestering him, how long it will take for Nie Huaisang to talk right over him, but Nie Huaisang waits patiently for an answer.

“I am,” Jiang Cheng eventually gets out and watches as Nie Huaisang lights up.

“I know a lot about the history of my Clan. Do you want to swap stories? I know almost nothing about the Yunmeng Jiang history and I would love to learn!”

“I don’t think we’ll have time for that,” Jiang Cheng mutters, because he’s not going to stop studying just because Nie Huaisang wants to talk to him.

It’s beyond flattering but Jiang Cheng is here to learn.

“What about tonight?” Nie Huaisang asks and Jiang Cheng immediately frowns at him.

“Wei Wuxian wants to drink tonight,” Jiang Cheng reminds him because clearly Nie Huaisang already forgot about that.

“But you said you don’t want to be counted in, so I figured you’re not going? And I’d much rather spend the evening with you talking about history than drinking with Wei-xiong and then getting punished for it,” Nie Huaisang says with a shudder and Jiang Cheng stares openly at him now.

“You heard that?” he asks, beyond surprised that Nie Huaisang even heard him and now it’s Nie Huaisang’s time to frown at him.

“Of course I did. You were talking so I was listening.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do with that information at all, and so he simply turns away from Nie Huaisang and starts walking away.

“Jiang-xiong!” Nie Huaisang cries out and rushes to keep pace with Jiang Cheng.

“It’s Wanyin,” Jiang Cheng says, keeping his eyes on the path in front of him, because he’s beyond embarrassed but Nie Huaisang makes a delighted noise.

“Wanyin!” he says with excitement and Jiang Cheng feels himself flush bright red. “I insist you call me Huaisang then!”

“Why would I?” Jiang Cheng grumbles but secretly he is very pleased by the novelty of this whole situation.

“Because we’re friends now, and you can’t take it back. I want to hear all you know about your Clan’s history!”

“Mark your words,” Jiang Cheng threateningly says. “I know a lot.”

“Good. I love history.”

Jiang Cheng does too, but no one knows about that because no one was paying attention to him. And Wei Wuxian certainly does not like history at all, so why would anyone care beyond that.

“I like it as well,” Jiang Cheng lowly admits, for the first time out loud and Nie Huaisang gently bumps their shoulders together.

“I’m happy we get to share our knowledge then. I bet Lan Qiren also has some book recommendations for us,” Nie Huaisang muses and Jiang Cheng’s eyes widen.

“Why would he give them to us?”

“Because he loves people who like to learn,” Lan Xichen suddenly says from behind them and while Jiang Cheng has too much self-control to squeak in surprise, Nie Huaisang does not.

“Lan-xiong,” Jiang Cheng greets him, elbowing Nie Huaisang to fall into a bow and Nie Huaisang scrambles to follow his lead.

“I’m sorry, I overheard you talking,” Lan Xichen says with a gentle smile. “I can point you towards the right section in the library tomorrow, if you would like that.”

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang immediately says and so Lan Xichen turns to look at Jiang Cheng.

“We would. Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says, surprised that Lan Xichen wasn’t satisfied with just Nie Huaisang’s answer but it seems like today is full of surprises.

“See, I told you,” Nie Huaisang whispers to Jiang Cheng who desperately tries to shush him.

“It’s my pleasure,” Lan Xichen tells them, still smiling as he walks away from them.

“He really is the most gentle one,” Nie Huaisang mutters behind his fan. “My brother did pick well.”

“Your brother and Lan Xichen?” Jiang Cheng asks, one eyebrow raised and Nie Huaisang flounders.

“You didn’t hear anything!” he rushes out. “They are not—official yet.”

“It’s not like anyone listens to me anyway,” Jiang Cheng says with a shrug at that, and he only has a moment to notice the pained look that flashes over Nie Huaisang’s face.

“I am listening to you,” he says and it sounds like he just made a decision too. “Will you spend the evening with me?”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng gives back, because he truly is looking forward to talking about history with Nie Huaisang. “But I make no promises about Wei Wuxian.”

“He’s not welcome,” Nie Huaisang grumbles. “I don’t like how he ignores you,” he then tacks on, much quieter than before and Jiang Cheng goes all warm at hearing that.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says, just as quietly as Nie Huaisang and he shares a smile with him.

Maybe having one person listening to him is already enough. It certainly feels like it to Jiang Cheng.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #friendship #gen #hurt/comfort #fluff #insecurity

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tugadork · 2 years

Text

Currently Developing An Ambitious Frozen III Fan-Fiction

Writer's block for me has been a persistent curse for a very long time, but over the past week and a half, there have been all these ideas taking shape in my head regarding a Frozen fanfic that would explore a continuation from Frozen 2 in a massive way. Now, originally, I had planned to make it revolve around Hans and only Hans, to write what he's been up to since Frozen Fever, with the intent of fully exploring his character in-depth as well as develop some worldbuilding for the Southern Isles and the rest of his family.

But the more I thought about this concept (and how some fanfictions have already explored it, though unfortunately most of the ones I've read seem to have been abandoned), the more other ideas regarding the other characters started to form along with it. Coupled with major inspirations from other terrific Frozen fan-fictions I've read (ex. Haunted Arendelle 2 by GoldenHeart-Stories, Pierced Hearts by FFcrazy15, Cry Havoc by Miss Muse Clues, The Next Unknown by simplesnowflake, pretty much everything Frozen related @calenheniel writes and what @bubchie have developed so far with their Hans solo project), creative juices I didn't know I still had started to rise up with a fierce passion to instead take on the task of writing what I think could be an epic, solid fan-made conclusion to the Frozen movies thus rounding it up to a trilogy (at least if or until Disney decides to officially greenlight Frozen 3 or a Frozen TV series, I think everyone is sick of them milking Olaf by now lol).

Though by comparison to what Disney would theoretically put out, I intend it to be much darker and explore serious themes of insecurities, self-hatred, powerlessness and self-reflection, coupled with a heavy dose of fantasy and mystical elements to go along with them since they're very much part of Frozen's DNA. Plus some comedy along the way because by god will levity be needed.

To be honest, I'm not an experienced writer. In fact, quite the opposite. I've written a lot of unfinished fanfiction stuff (non-Frozen related) about a decade back, but other than that nothing of this size and English is not my native language so I'm self-conscious enough to realize that, yet still try to make this as good as I possibly can and learning along the way. Though suggestions, feedback and constructive criticism are always welcomed if possible. 👍

I will post it on my fanfiction.net account once I complete the prologue (and then start work on the first chapter). Might be a while until then depending on how it goes, but I don't want to rush anything and instead take the time I need to make sure it turns out great.

To anyone interested, here are some non-spoilery bullet points I've written down so far to help with the writing process (there are more, but those contain major spoilers so I'm gonna keep them locked up for the time being), as well as this logo I made for the fanfic:

- A big part of the story chronicles Hans' whereabouts after his actions in Arendelle. There will be some chronological time skips where you see what happens to him before Frozen 2, during, and then eventually after it. Frozen Fever is canon to this story as well since a crucial part of Hans' development happens in that timeframe.

- Anna and Kristoff's roles as the new ruling monarchs of Arendelle will be focused on, detailing the trials and tribulations they will go through while trying to adjust, Kristoff especially so. This is something I feel would be an organic continuation from Frozen 2's ending, especially since that movie didn't really foreshadow or give any concrete indication that any of them were fully prepared to be rulers.

- Anna will start to resent Elsa a little for putting her in this position without a long-term discussion first. (it always bothered me that Frozen 2 made it seem like she just dumped her responsibilities on Anna while going off to be the Fifth Spirit, the execution could have been miles better than it was imo. here though, it gives me a good opportunity to write some decent conflict and drama out of it)

- Olaf will continue to mature while still spouting some philosophical quips from time to time. Also a helping hand to Anna and Kristoff when possible and whenever he's not hanging out with Sven who's starting to miss spending time with Kristoff.

- A certain dilemma causes Elsa to start taking her role as the Fifth Spirit a tad too seriously, to the point where she stops appearing weekly in Arendelle for Family Game Night. This starts to cause a gradual rift between her and Anna, but her behavior also worries Yelena who tells her that she needs to find balance between her duty and her family, and reiterates that she should not sink too deep into the former.

- Worldbuilding for the Southern Isles and introducing Hans' family.

- Hans' actions in Arendelle will not be taken lightly. As much as I do like the character and would like to see him further explored in anything official Frozen related in the future (fat chance of that happening at this point though), I want to reiterate that I will not necessarily treat him as a misunderstood soul who was never evil. His backstory and the environment he grew up in will be shown and let you understand why he is the way he is, but what he did in Arendelle is still treated as deplorable and he'll face major consequences for it. Said actions will always hover over his head like a dark cloud throughout the story.

- Something dwells within the very murky depths of Ahtohallan.

- The Hans and Arendelle plotlines will eventually intertwine in a surprising way.

- Elsa. Will. Throw. Down. Boy do I plan to make her throw down. 8)

- There will be an inevitable reunion between Frohana and Hans, and it will go about as well as you'd expect.

- Further elements from Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen tale will be implemented and adapted in this story.

- Elsa will be tested physically and emotionally like she's never been tested before. There are a lot of important things at stake and it will take a journey inwards for her to finally overcome demons, both literal and metaphorical.

- Olaf and Hans will interact because I think it's a massive crime we haven't seen this yet. The comedic potential is limitless and I think everyone in the fandom can agree on that. 😂

#frozen 3 #frozen fanfic #frozen #elsa #princess anna #queen anna #kristoff #frozen olaf #frohana #prince hans #hans westergaard #ahtohallan #the southern isles #fanfic #the snow queen #hans christian andersen

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ackerslut · 3 years

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of all i am made of (perhaps you are too)

ao3

Hugo does not believe in soulmates.

To be fair, he doesn’t much believe in anything but the feeling of coin in his pocket and the clever bite of his dagger. What use has he for god and destiny when he carves his own path of lies through time, with a sharp tongue and a cocky smile.

Why should Hugo believe the universe would gift him a soulmate when it already has made it perfectly clear that nothing is free?

Besides soulmates are rarities of the past--legends and folktales on the lips of elders and religious fanatics; the former clinging to superstition from the od era, the latter feeding false promises and hope to the instupid masses.

Soulmates are for hopeless romantics and tiny children. Not for Hugo.

“That does not surprise me,” Nuru says, the beginnings of a smile forming on her face.

She’s lying down in the golden field where they’ve set camp for the night. The contrast of the bright yellow against her dark skin is stunning-particularly in the moonlight, with her dark hair fanning out about her head.

Hugo, who is sitting upright a few paces away and playing with his daggers, frowns.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, unsure if he should be feeling defensive or not.

Nuru folds her arms beneath her head, propping herself up enough to make eye contact with him. “Even if you had a soulmate, you wouldn’t know what to do with them,” she scoffs.

He snorts. “ You believe in soulmates?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“Yes, actually. I thought you were the rational one in this party.”

Nuru gives him an expression that indicates how stupid she thinks he is. “I might be the only person who can keep their head in a crisis, but that doesn’t mean I can’t believe in a higher power, Hugo.”

She rolls over, so that she’s laying on her stomach, facing him. “Burning stars fall in my homeland every year. There are stories of a sun princess who’s tears heal the dead. Varian somehow hasn’t strangled you yet. I think you’d better start believing in a god.”

“Or soulmates apparently,” Hugo mutters.

“Or soulmates,” Nuru says. “Would it really be that far-fetched?”

“Do I believe there’s someone out there who shares my dreams? Or has my name written above their heart? Hard pass, Princess.”

“Alright then, how about sharing the same soul?” Nuru asks, folding her hands together and resting her chin on them. “You’re telling me that doesn’t sound at least a little romantic?”

“I don’t have a soul.”

“Now that,” she says, a grin stretching across her face, “that I can believe.”

___

“I think Anya’s my soulmate,” Yong says dreamily, staring at Varian’s redheaded cousin like she hung the fucking moon.

Hugo, despite secretly adoring the round child, rolls his eyes. Hard. “Do you even know what that means?”

“It means we share the same time threads,” Yong replies distractedly.

Varian and Anya are nerding out over something-something Hugo would find interesting or fun to mock them over, but right now, for some reason, he’s more interested in Yong’s adorable-if not misguided-crush on Varian’s little cousin.

“Time threads,” Hugo laughs, cracking his knuckles. Yong winces at the noise, momentarily taking his eyes off the two babbling alchemists. “Alright, color me curious. What are time threads?”

Yong frowns. “You’ve never heard of time threads? Every child in Koto learns about them.”

Ah, must be some religious poppycock only spread in the fire kingdom.

“Well, I’m not a child living in Koto, am I?” Hugo replies lightly. “Spill, little pyro.” He pokes the kid in the shoulder repeatedly until he gets swatted.

“Her lady, Odiyesi, spins a thread for each person,” Yong recites in a sing-song voice. “This thread contains the beginning, the middle, and the end of our lives. If she so chooses, two threads will be intertwined-maybe even beyond the Snip, if she wills it.”

“The Snip?”

“Oh yeah, that’s when you die,” Yong says, side eyeing Hugo.

Hugo ruffles Yong’s hair. “And you think Anya is your thread partner. That’s so cute .”

Yong ducks out from under his hand, scowling. “Why did you ask if you don’t even believe it?” he mumbles, face pink.

“You know what I think?” Hugo asks, pretending like he doesn’t hear Yong. “I think you should go right up to here and tell her all that. Give her a heads up about your eternally bound souls.”

“Your soul is eternally bound to the underworld,” Yong shoots back, with a surprising amount of fire.

Hugo bursts into laughter. “That,” he says, “is the first thing you’ve said all day that makes sense.”

___

“What do you think about soulmates?” Hugo asks mildly. He has a glass of wine in one hand, but he’s barely tasted it. Instead, he stands, staring out the stained glass window and into the courtyard.

Donella, sitting behind her desk, looks up from Varian’s Ulla’s journal-recently procured by Hugo.

The amount of deception and sneaking around he’d gone through to actually get it out of Varian’s line of sight had been painstakingly difficult. And it had been even harder coming up with an excuse to Nuru why he needed to spend the night somewhere other than their current lodgings.

He doesn’t really remember the lie. Just the trust in the Princess’s face when she’d briefly patted him on the shoulder, telling him to be back by sunrise.

Donella closes the journal with a snap, leaning back in her chair. “What a curious question. And from you, no less.”

When Hugo turns around, she’s smiling that sharp smile-the one that makes his stomach plummet with discomfort. Something in him churns at that dangerous expression now, unsure of what he’s suddenly gotten himself into.

He gives a casual shrug, raising his glass to his lips. “Just making idle conversation, I suppose.” The wine tastes terrible. Still, he takes another sip before setting it down on an end table.

“Hmm.” His mentor eyes him skeptically. “What do I think about soulmates?” she muses, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I suppose the proper answer would be that I hate them.”

He frowns. “So you don’t believe in them?”

“You can’t hate something you don’t believe in, Hugo. Of course I believe in soulmates.” Donella must see the surprise in his expression because she laughs after a brief pause. “I would be hard pressed not to believe in them after seeing it with my own two eyes.”

Hugo blinks, startled. “You met someone with a soulmate?” he asks, disbelieving.

“You could say that.”

“How do-how did you know they were-”

She opens the stolen journal again, long scared fingers deftly flipping back to her reading place. “Because I could feel when she was in pain. Now shut up, Waif, I still have three quarters of this tedious reading to get through and only five more hours to do it.”

___

Even though Eugene has decided to make the conscious effort not to kill Hugo, the guy still shows mild animosity. And by mild, Hugo-of course-means that he drags him around, making him do tedious tasks and scowls whenever he gets close to Varian.

Whatever. It’s not as if Hugo’s going to complain, considering that it’s mostly his fault there was a demon monster briefly unleashed onto Corona that destroyed most of her capital city. As long as Varian isn’t blaming himself, Hugo calls it a win.

So he lets the Prince Consort drag him around the city and put his alchemy to work.

“You don’t have to stay,” Hugo says, at one point, when it becomes apparent that even though Eugene has no idea how alchemy works , he was still going to hover. “I’m not going to cut and run.”

The man had snorted. “Yeah, I already figured that one out for myself,” he’d muttered and then proceeded to not explain what that meant.

So here Hugo is, with an ever present shadow, hovering like he’s a fucking five year old. Hugo honestly doesn’t see what Varian sees in the guy-or Queen Rapunzel for that matter. She looks at the ex-thief like he hung the moon and all the damn stars in the sky.

“It’s because they’re soulmates,” Eugene’s buddy-Lance, Hugo thinks-had said when he caught him staring.

Hugo had scoffed.

Now, bored and overheated after a long day’s work, Hugo watches Eugene frown over some blueprints in the Queen’s study. Hugo’s not exactly sure why he has to be present for this particular part of the renovation project, but he’s too tired to protest.

“Are you and the queen soulmates?” he hears himself asking.

Eugene lifts his head, eyes alight with surprise. He glances back down at the blueprints once, before leaving the table to join Hugo by the open doors leading to the balcony.

“Weird question, coming from you,” he snorts, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. “But yes. We are.”

Hugo doesn’t know what to make of that. “How do you know?”

The older man hesitates, something like understanding dawning on the man’s face. A small smile crosses lips. “Have you ever met someone that no matter how many times you tried to walk away, you couldn’t?”

Hugo swallows.

“That’s how I know. Now,” he claps Hugo on the shoulder. “If you’ll stop messing around, I need your opinion on whether Yong’s demolition idea or Varian’s solvent solution is going to work best for the lower district’s avalanche problem.”

___

At the end of all things-or perhaps the beginning-Hugo finds Varian on a rooftop.

It’s not hard to find him, as when Varian is brooding, he likes to perch. It’s a habit that the alchemist has either picked up from spending most of his time in a castle with high roofs or perhaps it’s born of chasing his dumb racoon into precarious positions.

Either way, Hugo learns early into his friendship with the darkhaired boy, that when he’s being introspective, he likes to pick a high roof and perch like a fucking woodland creature.

So when Varian goes missing in the middle of Corona’s lantern festival, it takes precious few minutes to find him.

“You are so predictable,” Hugo says, dropping down next to him. Heights don’t usually bother him, but the castle is impressively tall.

The other alchemist doesn’t really seem to mind, however. He lets his legs dangle over the edge, occasionally swinging in the air.

“Or maybe I wanted you to find me,” Varian replies easily. His head--tilted up, toward the stars that are mirrored in the constellations of freckles on his face-is wearing a peaceful expression.

Something in Hugo’s chest clenches tightly at the sight of it. There was a time, not too long ago, where he was convinced he’d never see Varian happy again.

But now, Varian turns his face toward Hugo and offers him a smile. “Or maybe I’m just predictable to you.”

The tightness in Hugo’s chest dissipates. What is left aches for something he can’t have.

“Or that,” Hugo says, instead of doing something stupid like trying to hold Varian’s hand or kiss the stupid expression off his face.

Varian turns back to the stars.

“You know, they say shooting stars fall in the direction of your soulmate.”

Hugo rolls his eyes. “Not you too,” he groans, eliciting laughter from his friend. “I thought out of everyone, you would be on my side here.”

“Aw, don’t believe in soulmates?” Varian teases, grinning boyishly. “Sun and moon, I should have expected that.”

“Yeah?” Hugo raises his eyebrows. “How so?”

“You’re so cynical. And not in the way Cass is-she’s like realistically -cynical. You’re just oh poor me I could never have a soulmate because my soul is made of garbage -”

Hugo clamps a hand over Varian’s mouth, shrieking when he tries to lick him. “I- stop -I don’t have to listen to this slander -”

“-and if you ever did find your soulmate you would be insufferable about it,” Varian goes on, catching Hugo’s wrist when he tries to silence him again. “You would spend the entire time trying to prove to yourself and everyone else that there was no possible way they could be your soulmate and when you couldn’t you would-”

He stops. Blinks at Hugo with realization dawning across his face.

Hugo’s wonders if Varian can feel his pulse racing where the smaller boy’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

“Yeah? What would I do?”

Varian’s lips purse. “I don’t know what you would do. I’d hope you would be smart about it.”

He lets go of Hugo.

Hugo immediately misses his warmth.

“And what would be the smart thing.”

“Well,” Varian draws out the word thoughtfully. He scoots close enough to Hugo that if the taller boy wanted he could wrap and arm around his shoulder. “Well, an excellent start would be telling them.”

“And how would you tell them? If it were you,” Hugo adds quickly, when Varian shoots him a questioning look.

Varian leans back on his hands, head tipped back, exposing his throat to the sky. “I would tell them my heart started beating at the same time as theirs when we touched. That there’s a silver dagger inked on my shoulder that burns when they’re angry and sings when they’re sad-”

“Varian.” Hugo’s heart clenches so hard he briefly wonders if he’s having a heart attack.

“-I would tell them that I dreamed in color the first night we lay side by side in the forest,” Varian goes on, ignoring him. “I would tell them that when we touch I see every color-even the ones that don’t belong here.”

“Varian.”

Hugo’s hand finds his soulmate's.

Varian turns his head to the side slightly, finally meeting Hugo’s eye. With his free hand, he cups the side of Hugo’s neck, tentatively.

“I would tell him that our souls are made of the same thing.” He smiles gently. “It’s just science, Hugo.”

Hugo laughs, pressing his forehead into Varian’s. “How is that the most romantic thing you’ve said yet?”

“Because you’re a closet nerd,” Varian says, right before he leans in.

Underneath a starlit sky, Hugo kisses the boy made of the same stuff as him.

___

#varigo #hugo vat7k #varian #nuru vat7k #yong vat7k #eugene fitzherbert #my fanfic #vat7k fanfic #tts #tts fafic

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Din Djaren x force sensitive reader - A Moment Of Bliss

Summary: You’re trying to meditate but your boys have other plans for you.

Warning: child being cute, fluff, SMUT, Din being the best space husband

Side note: wrote this before I learned the child’s name is Grogu, that is all.

Masterlist

You and your small clan of two have been stationed on a beautiful rolling grassland of a planet, ginormous stocky umbrella like trees sprouting from the flat land every couple miles from one another. They’re honestly quite the sight to behold, and something that you’re grateful for considering there’s no sand in sight. Honestly the most blessed thing of all that this wonderous planet has to offer, you can’t say you’re a real fan of the desert by any means.

Although you’re not exactly fond of the real reasoning why you’re here, it just so happened that Mando had gotten himself into some trouble when he captured the last bounty. A trafficking lord who just wasn’t as clever as he thought, earning himself some chains and a go around in a fun little thing called carbonite.

Nonetheless, his minions had tracked you two down after the bounty had been cashed in, slightly damaging the Razor Crest before Mando was able to lose them with some quick witted maneuvering. But you’re certain they’re still hunting you guys somewhere close by in the galaxy.

So for the time being, Din has decided for your band of three to lay low on this beautiful planet until he’s sure that the petty criminals have given up, or until you both get bored enough and decide to finish them off yourselves.

Which is all fine for you, what could be better then a tiny vacation away from shady scavengers and untrustworthy pimps? Nothing really, so to make the most out of your fortunately unfortunate escape/ temporary vacation. You’ve chosen to spend your afternoon helping the child practice his growing powers. Although it appears the little guy is more interested in a shiny purple crystal that he found minding its business on the gravely ground.

Sitting yourself in a criss cross position upon the soft grass, you close your eyes as you prepare to meditate when suddenly the child makes the most adorable babbling sound, with an amused smile you open your eyes to look down at him, “I’ll let that slide.” He gurgles while tilting his head to the side, his big green ears flopping ever so slightly as he possibly considers your comment.

Watching him decide to sit down and instead play with the purple crystal, earns a little smirk upon your face as you shut your eyes once again. This time he doesn’t do anything to break your concentration, so taking the blessed opportunity you’re finally able to zone in on the force. Laying your arms onto your folded legs you open your palms, feeling the world around you, sensing the energy flowing in as you begin to rise from the ground.

The child watches in silent awe as small fist sized rocks begin to float and flow in circles around you, your contact with the grass no more. For a couple minutes you’re able to sustain your deep meditation, then a tiny little coo is heard from below as it shuffles in the dirt. You almost lose focus at the intruding noise, but your zoned out enough to come back to the welcoming bleary void of the force.

Another couple minutes go by before an adorable noticeably louder coo pricks at your ears, letting out a huff, you remain in the air, the pebbles and rocks around you keeping themselves suspended just the same. You focus even harder, letting yourself feel weightless and in control as you levitate above the grass, the child deciding to coo and babble once more.

“Shut up you’re gonna break my concentration,” You whisper softly as you carefully continue to levitate mere inches off of the ground. Just then the child suddenly lets out a loud messy sneeze, your face falling in irritation, “Aaaand it’s gone.” You deadpan before falling on your butt with a hmph, the little guy giggling in amusement. You fake glare at him before falling back into the soft grass as you look up to the blue sea of sky when suddenly a dark shinning shadow towers above you.

“How’s the meditation going?” Wonders Din as he joins your little party from where he once was, tending to the ship that is.

Sighing, you pull yourself up from the grass and into a proper seated position as you turn your attention to Din, “Not terribly.” You reply with a love struck grin as you lightly pat the grassy spot next to you, “Sit with me?” He looks at the area before bringing himself down to your level.

“Couldn’t hurt to relax for a minute.” Inquires Din as you roll your eyes.

“We’re being hunted Din, I think this little get away vacation of ours calls for a bit more then just a minute of relaxation. Don’t you agree?” He turns his helmet to you, the black T of his armored face showing you back your own distorted reflection.

“Gives me time to work on the ship.”

Nudging his arm that’s mere inches from your own you look at him with a smile, “Okay so that’s how it’s gonna be, you’re just glad to be working on the ship?” You muse with a fake scoff while shaking your head at him, “I should have known.”

“What? No that’s not...that’s not what I meant Y/N.” He rushes worriedly as you scoot yourself closer to him.

Softly chuckling at his quick reaction, you lean into his side as you casually lace his gloved hand with your own, “I know what you meant. But just cause I’m me, I’d rather have you in my arms then fiddling with that hunk of metal.” You explain before setting your chin against his beskar covered shoulder. You can’t see it, but he’s smiling underneath that helmet of his, looking deeply into your loving gaze.

“Likewise.”

Snaking your arms around the one closest to you, he ever so slightly leans into your touch, “Please take off your helmet so I can see those enticing dark eyes of yours. Please?” You urge with a light squeeze of his arm, “I can’t exactly kiss you like this...no ones around to see anything....and anyways we’re married so I automatically get a free pass.”

He gently squeezes your hand before reaching his arms up to his head, you hear a soft click and a whoosh of air as he pulls off his helmet. A blissful smile breaks out onto your beaming face as his fluffy brown locks appear before you, styled every which way as they embrace their new freedom.

He sets his shiny silver helmet to the side before pulling off his gloves as his dark irises find your face, you’re unabashedly biting your lip while you take in every single feature of his handsome face, “It’s a good thing you wear that helmet of yours,” You lean in close, “cause all the ladies would be fighting each other for a chance to get with you. There’s no doubt in my mind.” You muse as the most adorable of smiles graces his stunning features while he leans his head against yours, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I have a great suspicion that you’d fight them before they even had a chance to breath in my direction.” Retorts Din as his hands gently grasp your own.

“What? No way.....okay....maybe yes.” He smiles brightly before pulling back, only to let go of your hands as he engulfs you into a giant hug. You quickly squeeze back as you push him into the grass, laughing as the both of you fall onto the soft earth.

Your eyes find his shining dark ones as you lean in close, “We should stay here, disappear from the rest of the galaxy and go M.I.A forever.” He kisses you in reply, his lips are soft and inviting as he holds you impossibly close, the scruff of his day old unkept facial hair scratching your cheek.

He slowly pulls away, earning a pout from you once he’s able to see your face again, “That does sound appealing, but I know you’d get bored with the calmness. You like adventure too much to stay in one spot for very long.” He says with a knowing look as he leans in to plant soft kisses over your cheeks, “I know you Y/N.”

Rolling your eyes you lean down to kiss his nose, “That you do, Din. Sometimes annoyingly so.” You reply before breaking out into an abrupt laugh as you watch him study your face lovingly.

Suddenly you feel a little nudge by your boot, shifting your gaze away from Din you look over to your feet where the little womp rat is. He’s smiling adorably as he babbles some more, stretching his little arms out for one of you to take, making a cute grabby motion with his hands.

Heeding to his silent yearning you sit up to gently pick up the beaming child, “Oh and how could I forget you, my little green bean....you can have all the cuddles too.” He squeals in delight as you hold him close in your lap, Din scoots over so his head is by your thighs as he gently pets his little green son on his wrinkly head.

Running your fingers through Din’s helmet hair you make a funny face at the child causing him to laugh, “I guess staying here for another week couldn’t hurt. I’ve got my two favorite people in the whole galaxy....no need to rush things.” Mutters Din as he looks to you with the biggest heart eyes while you stick your tongue out at the child.

“I’d like that very much, our little green boy....you and me, alone, a ship all to ourselves...no one to bother us.” You add, a suggestive tone laced throughout your sly voice, Din’s eyebrows raise in interest at your intriguing words, much to your amusement.

“And I have time to work on my ship.” Replies Din, side eyeing you to see your reaction to his lackluster comment.

Shaking your head you lightly tug at his tangled hair while he laughs, “You little shit. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you...you fucker.” A giggle escapes from your lips as you try and keep a serious face, Din attempting to do the same, though you’re both about to crack.

The baby starts to babble, as he wiggles his little body from side to side in an attempt at gaining back the both of your wandering attentions. Not being able to handle the sheer silliness in the atmosphere you let out a loud burst of laughter, Din following suite.

You watch as the sides of his eyes crinkle in joy, his belly rippling with each new inhalation and exhalation of air, “Din, would you like to see what we’ve been practicing on?” You ask as he finally calms down again.

“You’ve been practicing with him?” He asks with a smile, “I’d love to.”

Turning to the child in your lap you grab his sides before gently setting him onto the ground, “Okay little guy, remember you’re training....what we we’re doing yesterday. First we stick our hand out....and then we focus really hard on wanting to lift up the rocks. Okay.” The child coos in excitement as he lifts his clawed hand out to mirror your own, “Now close your eyes and feel...feel the power around you, the wind, the earth...call to it, let it flow.”

He suddenly lets out a little tut of determination as he does his best to focus, Din watches silently in anticipation for what may happen next. A beaming smile breaks out onto your face as a couple tiny pebbles begin floating off of the grass, the child lets out an excited babble as he celebrates his achievement, “You’re doing fantastic my little love, I’m so proud of you.” He coos even more as you gush in amazement, the pebbles falling to the grass as he gets distracted by your words of encouragement.

“But can Y/N lift some little stones?” Jokes Din as he gently nudges your arm, you raise an eyebrow to him before using the force to lift him a couple inches off of the grass. His eyes go wide for a second, clearly not expecting you to mess with him before you drop him onto the soft grass once again.

He lands with a dramatic huff, you look to him and your heart skips a beat as he eyes you up like a wolf to his prey, you swallow just as he suddenly tackles you into the soft green grass. You fall back with a yelp as your Mandalorian pins you to the ground, his beaming face so close to your own as he stares into your eyes with his dark ones.

“You think you’re real funny, hmm Y/N?” His voice is low and husky, his breath fanning your smirking face as he attempts to take the upper hand, “Cause that kinda hurt my arm.”

You simply roll your eyes, “I’ve seen you get swallowed by a Krayt dragon, you reckless man. Tough it out my love, you don’t want to make a bad impression on the little guy now do yo...” His soft lips are suddenly on yours as he shuts you up with his soft plush lips. The child waddles over towards the Razor Crest, uninterested with training and with whatever wrestling game you and Din are becoming entangled in.

You smile into the kiss as Din rests his weight in between your opened thighs and stomach, he rests his forearm upon the grass as his other hand caresses the side of your face. You bask in his body as your hands feel through his soft wavy locks, he moans into your mouth at the pleasant sensation, earning an amused chuckle from you.

Your opened mouth giving him enough space to stick his tongue into it as he teases you, you answer back just the same, your tongues dancing in the dark as he consumes you. He feels rather nice, you can’t help but to begin feeling a bit heated in your nether regions from the close proximity in this compromising position he has you in. Your body erupts with electricity as he starts to grind into you, the slow small friction against your clothed womanhood sending you into another realm of pleasure, and he’s not even inside you yet.

“Right in the grass?” You mumble against his lips as he bucks against your hips, the sensation driving you insane.

Knowing exactly how it’s making you squirm, he feels rather proud of himself, “Ships too far.” Mutters Din between kisses as he reaches down to unclasp his belt.

Your lips stay locked, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth as Din tugs down your own pants. He sits up and quickly makes haste with discarding his armored torso, flinging off top clothing and undershirt as you lift up your arms for him to pull off yours. The fabric falling to the grass as the both of you take in each other’s nearly naked bodies, your thin undergarments the only pieces keeping you away from total bliss.

He rests himself upon his bent knees while dark pleading irises stare into your own, he’s asking silent permission to disrobe you of all clothing. A smile breaks out upon your flushed face, nodding in a silent yes, his eyes flash with excitement and lust as he reaches over to tug at the edges of the tight fabric, he gently pulls off your bra. Your breasts bounce once they’re free from their constraints, Din’s brows raising in excited surprise before leaning down to kiss each one before he captures your lips with his once more.

Din you have no idea what you do to me.

Deciding you’d quite like it if both of you were naked, you pull away, Din’s face following yours as he pouts. In reply to his protests you fall back into the grass, “My undies aren’t gonna take themselves off.” You muse with a lustful gaze upon your man, god you already feel so wet, Din’s most obviously hard and you’re so ready for him.

His cheeks are flushed as he gently grasps the hem of your underwear on either side of your hips, you lift your bum up when he slides them down your legs, abandoning them in the grassy field. Your heart soars when he leans down to plant a kiss on the inside of your bare thigh, then another and another as he trails up to your knee. He pulls away to look at you once again, his face a mask of pure love and adoration as he shimmies out of his bulging boxers.

Biting your lip, you lean up to meet his lips, he kisses you deeply as he rests his calloused hands into each one of your knees, ever so carefully he parts them. Your nerves sending a wave of heat into your core for the anticipation of what’s to come, both literally and figuratively. If not for the current events you’d be laughing, your wandering thoughts quickly dissipating away once he pushes you back so that you’re laying in the soft earth as he locks eyes with you.

Giving you the most beautiful of smiles he kisses your abdomen, then below your bellybutton, up to your stomach, and in between your breasts. He’s hovering annoyingly close to you. You arch into him, the skin of his torso meeting your exposed womanhood, a moan escapes him from the wet contact against his stomach. You let out a breathy laugh as he squeezes and kneads your left breast, his mouth consuming the other one, his tongue working wonders as he sucks and licks at your perked nibbles.

Your hands tangle in his wavy dark hair as he continues his pleasurable assault in your breasts, his fingers may cause a little discomfort as he squeezes but you’re enjoying it too much to give a shit. His hot wet tongue dances in circles around your skin, he lets go of your breast to then lick up your turned neck. Doing everything in your power to keep it all inside, you bite your lip in an attempt at suppressing a moan, your voice breaking free once his hardened member rubs past your entrance without warning.

“There’s that pretty voice of yours.” Mutters Din before capturing his lips with yours, his hands held firmly against the ground as he holds himself up inches from you.

How annoying you can be, Din. Just get closer you idiot.

You feel so warm and fuzzy, his body mere inches from your wanting skin, your legs already open and ready as his length stays firm only centimeters away from your lower abdomen. Tugging at his hair, he parts from your lips as a confused expression crosses his features, you simply chuckle, “Stop making me wait my love, I’m ready for you.” His eyes closing in bliss as you purr sweetly into his ear, “I need you in me, now.”

Heeding to your straightforward command, he reaches a hand down as he guides his hardened cock to your awaiting entrance. He rubs it against your clit in a teasing manner before he slowly pushes into you, your hands flying to his muscular back as your walls adjust to his length. With a soft moan from his sweet lips, he fills you entirely, for a couple seconds does he pause. Letting himself enjoy the sensation of his cock inside you as he presses butterfly kisses all over your face.

Yes, fucking finally.

Not being able to stand it anymore, you buck your hips into him, this giving Din the cue to start working his magic. He completely pulls out of you before slamming himself into your slickness once again, a gasp leaving your lips as he does it again and again and again. Until he decides to keep himself flush against you, his new close contact vigorous thrusts sending more waves of euphoria coursing throughout your entire vessel. All that’s heard in the breeze is the sounds of your moaning and the slabs of skin on skin as Din pumps relentlessly into you.

You’re honestly rather glad that those bastard scavengers ran you into hiding on this planet, it had been a while since you and Din had had any real intimate time together and this was the perfect opportunity. Humming in pleasure, you kiss his scruffy cheek as his head falls into the crook of your neck, “Din I fucking love you so much, you have no idea.” More deep strokes are thrust into you as he kisses the side of your head.

“Y/N ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.....” His all he manages to mutter as another satisfied moan escapes him. You chuckle at how absolutely adorable and hot he’s acting right now, another thrust into you emitting a moan from your lips. He feels so good with how he’s treating you in this special moment, your two bodies colliding like stars in the sky.

You suck in a breath as a warmness builds in the pit of your stomach, you can feel your orgasm slowly rising with each and every pump into you. Din hums as he pushes you into the grass even more now, you can tell from how much more rigorous his thrusts are becoming that he’s on the edge of paradise.

And soon after he grunts, does he spill into you, the new added sensation enough to drive you wild with bliss. Your own high finally reached as your body shakes with euphoria and the last sloppy thrusts that he’s giving you freely.

A whimper escapes from your mouth as he enjoys himself inside of you for a couple more seconds before he slowly pulls out and flops by your side on the soft grass. He’s breathing heavily as you let the cool breeze fan over your sensitive swollen womanhood, the wind doing wonders for your hot sweaty skin as you try and calm down from your buzz. You close your eyes with a satisfied smile upon your content face as Din turns over to you with an equally joyous grin.

You listen and feel as he scoots himself against your side so that he can rest his arm over your stomach, his scruffy face inches from your cheek as he gently kisses you before resting his head against your temple. You lift your arm up to lay it over top of his as he hugs your side, doing his best to keep you as close to him as physically possible.

A pleasant sigh departs from his pouty lips, fanning the side of your face as you smile, “Y/N, you are very special to me...I just thought that you should know. Incase you ever forget.”

A small chuckle escapes you at his soft words, “Din I don’t think I could ever forget, you mean more to me then all the stars in the sky...more than the most valuable gems to ever exist or even my lightsaber.” He kisses your temple once again, “I believe the force has brought me to you my love, and I’m forever grateful for that.” You voice is a soft whisper on the breeze, yet he hears it all the same.

“Y/N I love you more than life, you are too sweet my beloved.” Your heart skips at his truthful reply, a small lump in your throat forming as he presses his nose against your hairline.

You turn your head to see his face better, he locks eyes with your own as a shy smile appears on his face, “Din Djaren you’re going to make me cry, shut up.” You muse with a quick kiss to his lips, looking into his dark brown irises like they hold all the answers to the universe.

He smiles against your cheek, kissing you there once more, “Never.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x you #din djaren x you #din djarin #din djaren x reader #din djaren imagine #the child #grogu #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal

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phantomato · 3 years

Text

Five Tom Riddle Crossover Fics to Read

Tom Riddle is a difficult character to ship. For those of us who want to see pairings beyond the Big Two (Tomarry and Tomione), canonical options peter out relatively quickly. Sure, we can invent our own pairings by fleshing out side characters, but sometimes, the itch is best scratched by borrowing from another canon.

And it makes sense for Tom more than nearly anyone else in HP. Tom was born into an era that is the subject of so much literature, so it’s easy to find another person kicking around postwar Europe if that’s your goal. He’s an archetypal character, the villain seeking immortality, and can be matched against other villains with the same aims. Hell, even his quest to recover lost artifacts turns into the basis for two of these works—Tom Riddle has the perfect combination of a recognizable context and character model, plus the ambiguity of his canon timeline, to slot him alongside so many other fictional figures.

I want to pause on some of these themes for a second. Immortality or relationship to age, for one, is something that comes up in three of these pairings: the Darkling and Koschei the Deathless are both immortal characters in their own canons, and Edmund Pevensie is not immortal but has aged and de-aged repeatedly in his travels to and from Narnia. The HP series doesn’t give us nearly this wealth of different perspectives on age and immortality, which is fair—HP makes it clear that immortality is unnatural and undesirable, and Flamel is notably a ‘good person’ because of his willingness to accept his own death—but for a character as obsessed with the idea as Tom, some emotions can only be explored when you match him with another character who has a complicated relationship to aging. Even someone like Indiana Jones, not immortal and not trying to be, has an interesting perspective to bring to a story because he has seen so many other quests for power gone terribly awry.

Of course, the other thing we get from crossover pairings is the ability to match Tom with a villainous character. And whether you’re a fan of conflict at the start of a relationship or not, I think there’s something to be found in putting two villains together: moral arguments, when they exist, are rarely about whether death is necessary but about what kinds of death are best used when; the entire concept of either a redemption arc or a breaking bad arc can be thrown out a window. It’s a space wherein our two villains are allowed to be themselves, and the reveal of the extent of each character’s villainy becomes a strange form of celebration. This is challenging to achieve if one sticks to HP canon alone, whereas crossovers are a fruitful space.

My selection methodology was to read every crossover fic with a clear focus on Tom Riddle or Voldemort on AO3. I found crossover pairings by visiting the meta pages for the Tom Riddle, Voldemort, and Tom Riddle | Voldemort tags—I may have missed some pairings for Tom Riddle, as the character has over 300 child relationship tags and AO3 cuts off at 300 displayed. If you know of any ships I missed and should check out, do tell! I’ll also make a note here that one of these fics is my own—if self-recs bother you, skip Bluebird.

The following five fics are ordered by wordcount. Let me know what you think!

Neurotic Virtuosi, by skazka

Crossover: Hannibal Rising (movie version). The wizarding world exists, and Tom and Hannibal encounter each other in non-magical Eastern Europe.

Summary: Tom and Hannibal ride the same train when Tom is hunting down the diadem. Tom shares an apple and thinks about keeping Hannibal.

Mature, <1k, Graphic Torture Fantasies

Why?: This is one of those pairings that I wouldn’t have thought to do when the characters were both young, but it’s so much better for that choice! The length of this fic means we only get a taste of their interactions, but what a taste it is. Tom’s internal fantasies are horrifying and described in a very erotic way, which fits both characters.

This also serves as an interesting vision of what Tom might have experienced during his world tour to find the diadem, a period we rarely get to see. I particularly like that the author chose to write it as frustrating and mostly fruitless; a Tom who is stymied and unsuccessful is a particular weakness of mine.

Two Sides of the Same Coin, by Anonymous

Crossover: Chronicles of Narnia. Both Hogwarts and Narnia are real, and the characters meet in Britain. The magic isn’t the same, but there’s mutual recognition.

Summary: Tom tries to use sex to seduce secrets out of Edmund. Edmund sees something reminiscent of his younger self, the version of him who could join the White Witch, in Tom Riddle.

Explicit, 2k

Why?: Edmund and Tom are a pairing made in crossover heaven, both boys of a similar age born into war in the same country and whose discoveries of magical worlds help them escape it. Both lust for power and make poor choices; Edmund canonically recovers and finds redemption from his actions, and Tom does not.

This fic wears the hat of something pure smut, starting in the middle of a sex scene and tagged with top/bottom roles, etc., and it is that and does that well. But give it a shot for Edmund’s reflection at the end, his hopeful musings that he can apply the lessons learned from Aslan to help Tom before Tom’s utterly lost. It’s a crossover ship with unbelievable potential for both characters, and this fic makes me want so much more.

Shedding Skin, by electric_typewriter

Crossover: Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente. Both the wizarding world and the magic of Deathless exist.

Summary: Tom meets Koschei before splitting his soul. They keep meeting, and Tom keeps attempting to match Koschei’s immortality.

Not Rated, 2k

Why?: Immortality via relocation or storage of souls is an idea that easily predates Harry Potter as a series, and seeing two different versions of the some core idea interacting with one another is precisely what crossovers exist to enable. Koschei as an immortal being that found his immortality in a way he considers superior is a fascinating concept, because it creates a power imbalance between them that leaves Tom always running to catch up. And Tom, poor Tom, feels like a desperate man, finding sensation only when he’s around Koschei and feeling nothing at any other time.

This reads a bit like you’re dissociating. The author uses descriptive language to keep the reader a little distant from the grounded reality of the events happening, which has the effect of keeping you focused on the metaphysical question of what it means to have part of a soul.

Bluebird, by Phantomato

Crossover: Shadow and Bone. S&B summoning powers instead of HP magic, set in the real world, with characters’ histories preserved.

Summary: Tom is the second sun summoner to exist, born long after the first gave up her powers and lived out her natural life. He tracks down the Darkling, the shadow summoner who never really died.

Explicit, 17k

Why?: Tom is an immortal being for at least part of his life, and his character arc is about pursuit of immortality, but he is fundamentally a young immortal, and is killed before he can graduate to old immortality. Aleksander, the Darkling, is canonically an old immortal, and his character arc is about the burden of living with the knowledge that you will likely always be alone. That loneliness sets the scene for the relationship between Tom and Aleksander, driving Aleksander’s behavior—he fundamentally believes he will always be alone, even an immortal like Tom passes through his life.

There is a high proportion of smut in this, serving in place of the emotional honesty that neither character can muster, and I recommend it for that. But the story also relies on investment in quiet everyday moments shared between the characters. It’s a fic told through behavior because both men are so cautious around one another, where they nevertheless manage to find sympathy for the other.

Riddles of the Dead, by Maeglin_Yedi

Crossover: Indiana Jones. Blends together the wizarding world and the mysticism present in Indiana Jones films.

Summary: Tom Riddle hires an expert archaeologist and gentleman adventurer, Dr. Indiana Jones, to help him pursue an artifact that might grant him immortality. There’s fucking, fighting, magic, snakes, and some difficult choices in store for our leading men.

Explicit, 18k, Angst

Why?: Maeglin Yedi has been a mainstay of the Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort ficspace for nearly two decades, but an old crossover like this can unfortunately slip through the cracks. It shouldn’t! With an original publishing date in early 2005, this predates the concept of horcruxes, the knowledge of Tom’s early years at Wool’s orphanage, and, well, so much of what we would eventually learn about Tom Riddle as a person. It’s a testament to the author that the story manages to capture Tom’s character in such a way that he’s still fully recognizable to a current-day reader, despite working with so much less canon.

This fic is fun. It’s an adventure, featuring hazards and traps and assassination attempts that you would expect from an Indiana Jones film, but the magic and mystery never overwhelms the relationship at the core of this story. It’s set up beautifully, with a mirrored structure between the front and back halves of the fic that foreshadows the inevitable end of the story. Watching older, confident Indy seduce young, hungry Tom is a delight. One (possible) mark of a great Tom-centric fic, imo, is to be able to portray Tom enjoying the exchange of power, giving it to someone as well as taking it from them, and this Tom is able to revel in giving up some perceived power as he practices being vulnerable with Indy. The romance is quite sweet, especially considering that ‘angst’ tag at the top of the fic!

#tom riddle #tomato fic rec

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

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001 | Sokkla

Thanks for the ask!

when I started shipping it if I did: I don't quite remember. I think it might have been around 2015. Back in 2007 when I first started watching Avatar my OTPs were Azutara and Jetzula. Around when I really got back into the fandom I found myself drifting towards Sokkla because the fandom has been so wonderful to me.

my thoughts:

What makes me happy about them: Honestly Sokka's goofy side vs Azula's deadpan seriousness is just *chef's kiss* They're just such dorks and I love it.

What makes me sad about them: Nothing really tbh. A lot of people say 'that it's not canon' but I'm alright with that. xD

things done in fanfic that annoys me: It's kind of hard to annoy me with fics tbh. In general I'm not a fan of first person fics. But I don't see that too often. I also don't read fics as much as I write them so I don't really know if any of the things I'm about to list are actually common. The first thing that bothers me is when people make Azula overwhelmingly soft (fluff gets more leeway because fluff is soft in general lol). But I don't like fics that take away the essence of her character to 'make her a better match'. I also don't care for fics that depict Sokka as 'the water tribe savage'.

things I look for in fanfic: I am really fond of hurt/comfort and angst. I look for fics that are dark in nature but with a happy ending. Fics that keep Azula, Azula at her core even when redeemed. I look for fics where Sokka and Azula help each other and not just one of them helps the other. I prefer mutual help where both of them get the depth that they deserve.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I am very much a multishipper so (as mentioned in the last ask) almost anyone is fine with me. It's probably easier to answer who I wouldn't want them to end up with.

My happily ever after for them: I'm fond of fics where Azula starts her own family with Sokka as a way to show that she's grown and as a way for her to have a family that was never dysfunctional. Now if it's a fic 100% set where they're still in their teens I think that a nice happily ever after would be Azula and Sokka rediscovering themselves after the war and getting to a place where old traumas don't hurt so much. I personally like stuff where Azula shows Sokka her favorite Fire Nation places and Sokka shows her his favorite places in the Water Tribe.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: I very firmly subscribe to the idea that Azula is a little spoon. She hates it and Sokka is not allowed to tell anyone that she is the little spoon. But (when she finally lets someone in that close and comfy) she likes being held and cuddled because she's touch starved.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Sokka's is very much the aforementioned cuddles--the is probably his favorite activity in general because she is typically more open with him then and tends to just muse out loud. Azula's favorite are those nights when they are just in the same room together each doing their own thing. But doing their own thing next to each other. So like Azula studies up on her niche interests while Sokka tries to work on his art (he's doing his best okay!)

#avatar the last airbender #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Headcanons

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bevioletskies · 3 years

Text

the first time (ever i saw your face)

summary: On their six-month anniversary, Apollo and Klavier decide to pose a seemingly harmless question: what did they think of each other when they first met? As it turns out, the topic is a little more complicated than they originally thought.

word count: 4.9k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day one of seven (prompt: "firsts"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

This fic takes place at some distant point in time after Spirit of Justice where Apollo and Trucy have learned that they’re siblings. Mild spoiler warning for the end of Apollo Justice; warning for brief mentions of alcohol. Fic title is from the song The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Flack.

“...why does this look like something out of a direct-to-streaming movie adaptation of a YA novel that has a three-star average rating on Goodreads?”

“If you’re trying to say you don’t like it, baby, you could just say so.”

“No, no, I - I’m actually kinda into it. It’s like we’ve walked onto the set of a staged proposal, though if you ask me to marry you right now, I will start laughing.”

Klavier sighed. “I’m starting to think the phrase ‘romance is dead’ was invented specifically for you.” Nevertheless, he tugged gently on Apollo’s hand. “Come on, liebe, I got our favorite snacks, I queued our favorite movies...and before you ask, nein, there is no engagement ring, so stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not...totally opposed to getting married, you know,” Apollo added as he followed Klavier. “It’s just...it’s a little early for me. This is only our six-month anniversary, after all.”

“Fair enough,” Klavier hummed, the two of them settling down in their spots. He’d learned long ago that Apollo wasn’t one for flashy, photo op-worthy dates, that he preferred more intimate, low-key settings. And so, for their six-month anniversary, Klavier had taken them to his family estate. He had cleared out the conservatory overlooking the garden of all its furniture, filling it with blankets and pillows, drapes and string lights, and a projector whose screen covered the entire back wall. It reminded Apollo of what he himself had done for their three-month anniversary - because apparently, he was that kind of person now - when he’d planned a weekend’s stay in a cozy lakeside cabin. “A conversation for another time, ja?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Apollo draped one of the blankets over his and Klavier’s laps, then lowered his head to rest on Klavier’s shoulder. Smiling, Klavier turned to briefly kiss Apollo’s temples, then reached for his laptop so he could start the movie. They spent the first fifteen or so minutes in companionable silence, sharing a bag of popcorn and a bottle of wine while they watched, until Apollo eventually spoke again. “...weird, isn’t it?”

“The movie? Not particularly,” Klavier shrugged. “If anything, I’d say the plot twist is a bit predictable.”

“No, not the movie. I mean...this.” Apollo gestured aimlessly. “You and me. Us.”

Klavier’s expression darkened somewhat. “Are you...having doubts about our relationship, Apollo?”

“Wh - no, no, not at all!” Apollo protested, sitting up. “It’s just...I guess it’s mostly weird for me. Like, if someone told me, say, a couple years ago, that I was gonna be in a relationship with you, of all people...hell, can you imagine if someone told me that on the day we met? I-I wouldn’t believe it!”

“You weren’t shy about your distaste for me, true,” Klavier agreed, his slight frown relaxing into an amused smile.

“I don’t think that’s an...entirely accurate assessment of, uh, of how I felt,” Apollo said carefully.

Now it was Klavier’s turn to straighten up, looking at him curiously. “Really?” he asked. “Then what did you think of me when we first met?”

“You first,” Apollo retorted, seemingly on instinct. He then softened. “I mean, only if you want to. I’m kinda curious.”

“I don’t mind,” Klavier reassured him, setting down his wine glass so he could squeeze Apollo’s hand. He hesitated, thinking it over. “...I expected to hate you from the very beginning, to be perfectly honest. And, for a moment there...I did.”

Apollo’s eyes widened. “Wh...what?”

“‘Disgraced Defense Attorney Dismantled By His Disciple’, I believe the headline was,” Klavier continued. He then smiled wryly. “A bit dramatic, if you ask me. But then again, I’m not a big fan of alliteration, so I might just be biased.”

“Did you really hate me?” Apollo’s shout had dropped to a mere whisper. “Because...because you didn’t wanna believe it, did you? About…what had happened. What he’d done.”

“It wasn’t all bad memories, all the time, you know.” Klavier gently released Apollo’s hand so he could brush his hair out of his eyes, though he kept his head ducked low. “We had our moments, him and I. We weren’t close, but...we weren’t estranged, either. In fact, I...I first heard your name from him, not from the papers.”

“He told you about me.” It wasn’t a question. “I guess I should’ve suspected, but I never really knew what your relationship was like...before. I mean, he never once mentioned having a brother, so I kinda assumed…”

“As everyone does,” Klavier shrugged, far too casually for Apollo’s liking. “Anyway, your question was about you and me, not me and him, ja? He told me all the usual things people have to say about you - loud, eager to please, a little bit sensitive. I didn’t think much of it at the time, other than the fact you had a strange name.”

Apollo rolled his eyes, sinking back into the cushions. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Glad to know I made a great first impression.”

“And then when the headlines came along...and Mama and Papa called…” Klavier’s face darkened once more; he cleared his throat. “I looked you up. I hadn’t bothered when I first heard your name, but I had to know. Still, I...I found almost nothing. No photos, no social accounts...nichts. Just a single line on a college graduate roster and the same articles I’d been reading before.”

“...I see.” Apollo fiddled with the ends of his blanket, just so he would have something to do with his hands. “So, when we finally met in person…”

_____

The first thing Klavier noticed was Apollo’s eyes - large, round, expressive to a fault. The color of melted chocolate, though in the sunlight, more akin to the color of honey. Those eyes of Apollo’s, curious and maybe a little bit accusatory, narrowed right at him as he arrived at the entrance of People Park. He internally winced at the sight of Apollo’s companion, who was arguing with the police officer standing guard at the scene. Despite the time that had passed since he last saw her, he could never forget Trucy Enigmar-now-Wright.

Are you working for Phoenix Wright now? Klavier wanted to ask as he approached them. Why? Don’t you know what he’s done? Don’t you see what he’s become?

“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” he said instead, leaning forward to smile somewhat condescendingly at them. Klavier was momentarily struck by how similar they were - how their hair was the exact same shade of brown, how the dusting of freckles across their identically shaped noses matched too perfectly, how their furrowed brows and perplexed frowns were one and the same. The only difference was their eyes, hers more the color of a stormy sea. Perhaps there’s a song lyric there? Klavier mused to himself. Ach, now is not the time.

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said disbelievingly, his eyes now widening. His arms, previously crossed tightly against his chest, fell to his sides. The motion caught Klavier’s eye, drawing his attention to the glint of the golden bracelet sitting on Apollo’s left wrist. He wondered if there was some sort of significance to it, what with the way Apollo clutched it tightly with his right hand.

“Ah, fräulein,” Klavier continued, his eyes flickering back upwards. He wondered if she knew him, if she recognized him at all. Clearly, Apollo had no idea who he was; he wasn’t sure how to feel about that just yet. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?”

“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy complained, huffing. She brandished an envelope in Klavier’s face, nearly swatting him on the nose as she did. He flinched slightly, surprised by how brazen she was. “We even have a letter of request!”

Klavier’s smile softened into one that was a little more genuine. He couldn’t help but be instantly charmed by her. “You must be exhausted, standing out here. I will take you to the scene of the crime.”

“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, brightening. Apollo looked skeptical in comparison, his intense gaze traversing the length of Klavier’s body. Usually, he would have preened at the attention, been flattered by the obvious interest and maybe made a show of looking back, but he knew that wasn’t what Apollo was looking for. I am not him, Klavier thought fiercely. I am not the one you trusted, the one who taught you everything you know. I could never -

“By your leave, officer,” Klavier said with a nod and a wink. He barely heard the officer’s affirmation over his own thoughts. Then, he turned back to Trucy and tilted his head towards the park. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”

Trucy’s giggle was sweet, melodic, as she happily followed him through the entrance. He made a show of lifting the police tape for her to duck under, which she seemed easily amused by. Apollo, meanwhile, was left standing on the street, staring at them incredulously, before he finally seemed to register what was happening. “Hey! What about me?!” he cried. His voice gets raspier the louder he gets, Klavier couldn’t help but observe. Interesting.

Once Apollo had caught up, Klavier turned to grin at them both, teeth clenched beneath his lips. Trucy was rocking back and forth on her heels, beaming back, while Apollo had braced his hands on his hips indignantly, like he had something he wanted to say and was just waiting for the opportune moment to say it. Ach, those eyes, those hands, those freckles, Klavier thought rather stupidly. Wait - you’re not supposed to think he’s cute, Klavier, hör auf!

“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” he remarked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the flash of a white lab coat further into the park that told him he needed to leave if he didn’t want to be reprimanded - or worse, Snackoo-ed.

“Thank you! Will we see you again?” Trucy asked, hopeful.

Klavier hesitated. Apollo still hadn’t said a thing about the obvious elephant in the room, still staring at Klavier like he was a ghost. He wanted Apollo to say something, anything, to ask questions, to start the conversation that he himself admittedly didn’t want to take responsibility for. But Apollo was clearly stunned into silence, and any courage Klavier had had when he first walked up to them moments ago was long gone.

“Ask the wind, fräulein. I'll be riding on it,” he said, shooting them one last saccharine smile. He could hear the click-click of Ema’s shoes against the cobblestone as she approached. With that, he turned and left, his chest aching in confusion.

_____

The silence was heavy, heavier than Apollo expected. Klavier had turned the movie volume down long ago, leaving them with nothing but the sound of their own quiet breaths. “Makes sense,” Apollo finally said, shooting Klavier a sympathetic smile. “To you, I...I jumped ship from one corrupt defense attorney to another. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the time, right?”

“Part of me wanted to confront you right then and there, but I didn’t want to do it. Not in front of everyone, especially not in front of her. But the other part of me...I just wanted to learn more about you. To get to know you before I decided whether it was a battle worth fighting. Whether he was worth defending.” Klavier then smiled back; now it was his turn to drop his head onto Apollo’s shoulder. “Besides, you were cute, and I’m weak.”

“‘Were’, huh?” Apollo teased, nudging him. “Well, I’m glad Trucy’s presence, your curiosity, and my cuteness apparently deterred you enough to walk away. To think, what would you have done if you didn’t think I was cute - ”

“Achtung, you’re such an arschgeige sometimes,” Klavier groaned, laughing. “Anyway...I got my answer in court soon enough. I could trust you, and he...he wasn’t worth defending. Not one bit.”

“No, not at all,” Apollo agreed. “Still, I’m...I’m sorry, Klav. Not for what I did, I mean, I-I had to, but just...how it all played out. How messy things got. Whenever we, y’know, come here to see your parents, I still see that look in their eyes. It’s that face that you make when you think no one’s looking.” He swallowed. “Mr. Wright says Trucy does that, too. Less now that she’s got me and Mom, but…well.”

“It wasn’t you, Apollo, it was me. It all started with me believing he wouldn’t lie to me.” Klavier’s laughter was bitter now. “Anyway, I’m starting to think we’re all a little too observant for our own good. None of us can ever let things go, nein?”

“We’d be horrible lawyers if we could,” Apollo chuckled, rubbing Klavier’s arm reassuringly. “But fine, fine, I’ll stop psychoanalyzing you now. It’s my turn, anyway.”

“I want to hear this,” Klavier said, snuggling closer. “Lay it on me, baby. Tell me how you fell for me in two seconds flat.”

“I’m gonna lay into you in two seconds flat if you don’t let me talk,” Apollo said dryly, elbowing him again. “I, uh, I don’t think I remember it as clearly as you do, but…”

_____

“Excuse me, coming through.”

It was a voice, a smooth, musical voice, polite but firm, that caught Apollo’s attention first. He turned in its direction, confused by how familiar it felt, how similar it sounded to another voice he knew, but with a light, lilting cadence and a strangely affected accent whose origins he couldn’t quite place.

“Ah! It’s you! Mr. Gavin!”

Apollo’s eyes widened, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, then narrowed at the sight before him. Striding towards them with a swagger in his step was a man who, as far as Apollo could tell, was supposed to be behind bars. Only, his skin was a few shades darker, his hair a shade or two lighter, and he was wearing, for reasons Apollo couldn’t fathom, eyeliner and leather and chains instead of a neatly-pressed suit and wire-rimmed glasses. Who’s THIS guy? Apollo thought, his stomach turning.

“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” the man said, leaning in close; his smile was a little wider than Apollo would have liked. Apollo also didn’t want to think about how pretty he was, how long his eyelashes were or how smooth his skin seemed to be. This can’t be him, Apollo decided, though he was still frozen in place. He could only vaguely feel Trucy’s fingers tugging gently on his shirt sleeve. No, it can’t be - it’s not - but who -

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said stupidly. He felt a phantom pinch on his left wrist; he released his arms from where they were crossed so he could rub the spot where it hurt, though the moment he touched it, he realized he hadn’t been in pain at all. The man’s eyes flickered down, following his fingers in curiosity, before moving back up to continue smiling beatifically at Trucy.

“Ah, fräulein,” he said; he was practically simpering now. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?” Apollo barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. Of course, he internally sighed, he’s one of those guys.

“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy whined, shoving the envelope in the man’s face. Apollo had to bite back a laugh at his startled expression, a contrast to his otherwise indifferent smile. “We even have a letter of request!”

“You must be exhausted, standing out here,” the man murmured sympathetically, eyes sparkling. He seemed intrigued, though Apollo couldn't blame him. He supposed he and Trucy looked like a completely mismatched pair. “I will take you to the scene of the crime.”

“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, her entire face lighting up. Apollo tried not to smile himself; her energy was infectious. Then, the man’s words finally clicked in his mind. Wait - really?! But why would he - how can he - who is he?

“By your leave, officer,” the man ordered, winking. A pleasant shiver went down Apollo’s spine, one that he was trying his best to ignore. No good was going to come out of that train of thought, not when this man was clearly someone he needed to worry about - though in what way, he wasn’t sure yet. He seemed too generous, too open. Whether he was a police officer, a detective, or, god forbid, a prosecutor, Apollo didn’t trust him not to lead them astray, not one bit. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”

Before Apollo knew it, the man was walking away with Trucy in tow, leaving him behind. “Hey! What about me?!” he shouted, jogging after them. By the time he caught up, both of them were grinning at him amusedly, as if watching him trip over his own feet was some hysterical inside joke. Huffing, he braced his hands on his hips, ready to open his mouth and protest. The man’s gaze briefly travelled down to his hands once more. What’s that all about? Apollo wondered, confused. What’s he looking at? Is it my bracelet? It’s not that weird, is it? Wait, or can he tell that it’s -

“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” the man said, speaking a little quicker than he did before. He suddenly seemed distracted, like he couldn’t wait to get away from them.

“Thank you!” Trucy chirped, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Will we see you again?”

“Ask the wind, fräulein,” the man said, recovering. He seemed almost too focused on Trucy, like something about Apollo bothered him. Maybe he already knew who Apollo was, what Apollo had done. Was he angry? Resentful? Waiting for the right moment to strike? A shiver of a different kind tingled throughout Apollo’s body at the very thought; the phrase “kill them with kindness” was coming to mind. “I'll be riding on it.” He then left without another word, leaving Apollo to stare stupidly after him, his heartbeat in his throat.

“...who was that?” Apollo exclaimed, stunned, as if he wasn’t confused enough by everything else that was going on. His mind was racing with possibility, with anxiety that he really, really didn’t need. Before he could get into it, however, his jumbled thoughts were quickly cut off by Trucy’s surprised cry.

“Eek! Apollo, look - a c-corpse!”

_____

“...interesting,” Klavier said after a moment’s silence. “Did she really think the mannequin was a dead body?”

“Seriously, Klav?” Apollo groaned. “Surprised you didn’t fixate on the part where I thought you were pretty.”

“‘Were’?” Klavier echoed mockingly, grinning. His expression then sobered. “So...mixed feelings all around, it seems. I suppose it shouldn’t be all that shocking, though. We weren’t...total strangers, after all.”

“You practically were to me,” Apollo murmured, tangling his fingers in Klavier’s hair. Klavier leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering closed in contentment. “At least you knew I existed, while I...he never…” He then shook his head. “Y’know, I-I’m not sure if I really wanna think about this anymore. Not if it makes us think about him.”

“It’s not one of our happiest memories, nein,” Klavier agreed, humming. “I like where we are now...where we can trust each other. There’s little I hate more than ambiguity. And not knowing how I was supposed to feel about you…”

“Sucks, right?” Apollo let out a hollow laugh. “But at least we were on the same page, in a, uh, weird way. I guess that’s always been our thing. Even when you’re driving me up the wall in court - which is all the time, so don’t even question me, I see that look on your face - we’re, y’know, generally working towards the same goal.”

Klavier’s fingers danced along the length of Apollo’s forearm, tapping out a rhythm that Apollo couldn’t quite pick out. “I’d like to think so. I was never really sure until...ach, well. You remember.”

_____

Apollo was still trembling as he exited the courtroom with Trucy by his side. She was putting on a brave face for them both, but he had a feeling that she was more torn up about what had happened than he was. He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her somehow after they’d learned the truth behind her biological father’s death, but for once, he was completely speechless.

“Polly?” Trucy’s voice was tentative. “I’m...kinda hungry.”

“I...oh.” Apollo looked at her curiously. Out of all the things he’d expected her to say, that hadn’t been one of them. “Do you wanna get something to eat? We could go to Eldoon’s if you want.”

“No, that’s okay,” Trucy reassured him. Her face then lit up. “I was actually thinking about the courthouse café! We can get cake and drinks and stuff. A little sugar goes a long way!”

Apollo smiled softly. “Sure, Trucy. Whatever you’d like.”

And so, they found themselves a small table at the courthouse café - and maybe calling it that was rather generous on Trucy’s part - with two thick slices of Swiss rolls and tall glasses of milk tea. Admittedly, Apollo still felt numb, but Trucy’s running commentary of her thoughts on the trial kept him going. “Now all we need is for Vera to wake up,” Trucy said, gripping her fork with determination. “I’m still so worried about her! What if she doesn’t - ”

“We can’t think like that, okay?” Apollo said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “We gotta have hope. That’s all we can do, you know?”

“I guess,” Trucy murmured, chewing her bottom lip fretfully. She went quiet for a minute or so, poking at the last bits of her drink’s half-melted ice with her straw. “Hey, um...Daddy says he’s meeting up with a friend later today, and he wants to have dinner. And when he says ‘friend’, he usually means Mr. Edgeworth. You know, the prosecutor?”

“Yeah, I’ve definitely heard of him.” Apollo sat up a little straighter at the word ‘prosecutor’. In his stupor over the whole ordeal, he’d barely spared a thought for Klavier; he could only vaguely guess how he was doing. “What about him?”

“I was just wondering if, maybe, you’d wanna...join us?” Trucy suggested. He’d never seen her so hesitant before. “For dinner, I mean.”

“...oh.” Apollo paused. “No, uh - not today, sorry. I should really go home and sleep all of this - ” he gestured aimlessly “ - off. I feel like I need to sleep for, like, three days straight.”

“Sure, of course,” Trucy nodded, smiling faintly. “But….you’re still coming back to the agency, right? Maybe not tomorrow, but like...in a few days?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely,” Apollo promised, surprised by how quickly he’d responded. In all his hesitation, his doubts about law and what it was meant to be, what it could be, he was finally starting to feel like the Wright Anything Agency was where he belonged.

After they finished eating, he and Trucy parted ways after a long, much-needed hug on the courthouse steps. Apollo then went to fetch his bike from the rack adjacent to the courthouse parking lot, only to spot a familiar face lingering nearby, seemingly in no rush to leave.

“...Gavin?” Apollo said carefully.

Klavier turned sharply at the sound of Apollo’s voice. His smile was a touch too wide, his eyes suspiciously glossy. “Ah, Herr Forehead,” he greeted, ducking his head; his voice sounded trapped in his own throat. “Good show in there, as always. You never fail to impress.”

“Thanks. Hey, um - I’m surprised to see you’re still here,” Apollo commented, taking a few tentative steps closer. “Don’t you have somewhere...better to be?”

“Not really, nein.” Klavier let out a short, forced laugh. “I have paperwork to do, I’m sure. But it can wait.”

“...right.” Apollo cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks, by the way.”

Klavier blinked. “Entschuldigung? What for?”

“For agreeing to summon your brother, and...y’know, everything after that.” Apollo found himself oddly fascinated with a few stray pebbles on the ground, nudging them around with the toes of his loafers so he wouldn’t have to look at Klavier’s face. “Look, I-I’m not gonna pretend like I know what you, or Trucy, or Mr. Wright are going through. I’m mostly on the outside looking in, so. All I really know, if I know anything at all, is that, uh...we did the right thing. Yeah?”

“Ja.” When Apollo looked up, Klavier was also deliberately looking elsewhere, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. He’d displayed a whirlwind of emotions back in the courtroom, but none of them were quite the same as the bitter expression he was wearing right now. “...Apollo?”

Now it was Apollo’s turn to do double-take. “Huh? Wh-what is it?”

“Danke schön. For...everything. I honestly don’t think I could’ve done...any of that on my own,” Klavier confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “And I think I...I think I’m going to take a little time away from the prosecutor’s office. Not for long, mind you. Just...I need some time off. A week, maybe two. Some distance, some perspective...it would make a world of difference, achtung.” He then turned to face Apollo directly for the first time since they started talking. He looked tired, defeated, even. His posture, his expression - Apollo felt as if he was seeing an entirely different person standing before him.

Without thinking, Apollo took the last few steps forward and closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Klavier and pulling him close. Klavier let out a startled noise; then, he hugged Apollo back, sinking his weight against Apollo’s, his forehead dropping to Apollo’s shoulder. His exhale was long, unsteady. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Apollo said, fingers digging into Klavier’s back, his face buried against Klavier’s bicep. “And if you ever wanna talk about it...I-I mean, I’m sure I’m not your first choice, but still. I’m, uh, I’m around.”

“Danke,” Klavier murmured, barely above a whisper. They stayed like that for a moment, maybe a moment too long, just holding each other in the middle of the courthouse parking lot for anyone and everyone to see. Klavier’s breath trembled against Apollo’s ear; Apollo half-expected his knees to give out from underneath him. Then, he slowly detached himself from Apollo’s grasp, carefully schooling his expression into something more Klavier-like, something brighter and blander, his teeth blindingly white in the mid-afternoon sun. “Anyway, I should really get going. That paperwork isn’t going to take care of itself, ja?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, don’t I know it,” Apollo said, letting out another strained chuckle.

“Until next time, then,” Klavier said smoothly, winking. “Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Forehead.” He didn’t wait for Apollo’s send-off, instead turning and heading over to his motorcycle, humming and twirling his keychain expertly between his practiced fingers. Apollo watched him peel out of the parking lot, silently wondering if he’d said all he wanted - no, needed - to say.

_____

“Of course I remember.” Apollo held Klavier just a little bit tighter. “But, y’know, again - not our best moment. Not by a long shot.”

Klavier lifted his head from Apollo’s shoulder so he could kiss him briefly, gently. Apollo smiled against Klavier’s lips, cupping his jaw so he could bring him closer. “But I’d still say our first kiss is more of a memory worth reminiscing over. Wouldn’t you agree, liebe?”

“It was a little dramatic for my taste,” Apollo teased, pulling back so he could affectionately nudge his nose against Klavier’s cheek, his fingers lightly pressed into Klavier’s sides. “But you’re into that sort of thing, so I’ll give it a pass. Still, let’s just agree not to cry all over each other ever again, okay? It was honestly kinda gross. And wet. And not in a fun way.”

“You’re saying you won’t cry when I propose?” Klavier asked, pouting exaggeratedly. “Because ach, I know I will.”

“Who says you’re proposing?” Apollo retorted, grinning as he prodded Klavier in the chest. “What if I get there first? What if, while you’re getting down on one knee, I just whip a ring box out of my pocket - ”

“Then I really will lose my scheisse,” Klavier murmured, his lips ghosting across Apollo’s skin. “I’m going to hold you to it, baby.”

“Can’t guarantee it’ll happen, but I’m definitely gonna try,” Apollo said, turning his head to capture Klavier’s lips once more. The two of them exchanged slow, lazy kisses for a few minutes, fingers loosely tangled in each other’s hair. In the background, the movie continued on, long forgotten; not that it mattered, seeing as they’d watched it together many times before.

Eventually, Klavier carefully detangled himself from Apollo. He passed him his wine glass, still half-full, then reached for his own and lifted it above his head. “To making new memories, ja?”

“Are we really cheers-ing ourselves? That’s pretty self-serving, literally,” Apollo said dubiously, though he still raised his glass all the same, amused by Klavier’s dramatics. “But hell, why not? To new memories that don’t involve us crying, sneezing, yelling - ”

“You make us sound like absolute disasters, achtung,” Klavier protested, chuckling. “We’re not that bad, are we?”

Apollo took a sip of his drink, then leaned in close, so close that his nose brushed against Klavier’s, his wine-stained, kiss-bitten lips stretched into a fond grin. “Nah. I think we’re doing just fine.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my first entry for Klapollo Week 2021! I've never participated in any fandom challenges/events before, so I'm super excited to see how this goes. My plan is a little overambitious, with all seven fics set in the same continuity, but in a different order. For example, this fic is actually the last, chronologically speaking, while day seven's fic is set in the middle. If you're wondering why they were crying during their first kiss, you'll have to wait until then 😉

Don't worry about any of that, though, you don't need to read the others to follow along! Day seven is technically a sequel to day five, but it can be read as a stand-alone, though I think it packs more punch if you read it after day five. They're also the longest; every other fic averages out to about four to five thousand words, whereas five and seven are over ten thousand words each. Brevity is the soul of wit? Not in my Google Docs, I am wordy as hell.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

#KlapolloWeek2021 #klapollo #kyodoroki #klapollo fic #ace attorney #ace attorney fic #myfic #long post #i've made that dumb goodreads joke before lmao #anyway happy klapollo week y'all!!

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