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dawnsleif · 2 years

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this is how you fall in love — tsukishima kei x fem!reader (5.2k words)

a very late entry for @zorotits (@/tsukina)'s 3k collab! — collab masterlist

synopsis: tsukishima kei is your first love, your second love, and the man you once thought would be your last love. marriage terrified you, and commitment scared him away. another story of childhood friends turned lovers turned enemies. how can you make things work?

warnings: some suggestive language and implied sex, nothing too explicit, though i would appreciate it if babies under 17 didn’t interact with this one. biological family trauma. mention of bruises. toxic behavior, complicated relationship. angst, hurt / comfort.

playlist (songs on loop when i was writing)

sun in his eyes. your first and fondest memory of tsukishima kei, back from when he was still your knight in shining armor, and you, his damsel in distress. an ironic scoff escapes your lips at the thought — how would he save you from himself? lately he has been the cause of your distress. how much things have changed.

all these years with him feel like a fever dream right now. you miss him, and rationality says you should hate him for hurting you over and over, for not taking all the chances you have given him to become a better lover. but you cannot just do that. when you think of kei, you can only picture golden, a ray of sunshine. you remember describing him in such an unlikely way. only a fool in love would portray kei so delicately. he is anything but warmth, yet he feels like home. to you. kei, your kei, is a palette of warm hues. you have held onto the way he cradles you in his embrace during passionate nights, and you have seen something akin to love pooling his gaze every time his lips meet yours.

a glass clinking against yours brings you back to the present. this wine leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth. you feign an apologetic smile before looking up, ready to dismiss whoever is standing there. but before words leave your lips, a choked gasp does.

“why didn’t you tell me you’re back from your honeymoon?”, the intruder chuckles at your accusing tone.

“if i were to tell you, it wouldn’t be a surprise. congratulations, little one”, you scowl at his reply, swatting his hand away when he tries to ruffle your hair. some things may change, but others will stay the same, just like how tsukishima akiteru will never stop babying you.

“thank you, ‘teru”, you suppose this is not too bad. after breaking up with kei for the umpteenth time, work turned into the favorite subject you could pour your love into. at least it wouldn’t break your heart. it seems that your effort paid back, as you find yourself standing in the middle of this gala as a representative of the law firm you work under.

akiteru knows you hate small talk, thus he lets background music fill your silence, and finds a chance to leave you alone when his wife comes around. they are an endearing couple, you cannot help but envy them.

you notice a man behind the pair, whose eye color is similar to kei’s, maybe a tad bit darker. he stands up and walks in your direction, puzzled. a faint blush tints your cheeks at his closeness, perhaps your blurred stare was too insistent.

“can i help you, miss?”, damn, he has a nice voice, not too deep, not too coy. his muscular frame, imposing, is a desirable sight too. ignoring your first impression of him, his vague resemblance with kei, he looks like fine one-night-stand material. you want to smack yourself for such shameless thoughts. it must be the alcohol. get yourself together, y/n, you are here for work.

“has anyone ever told you how pretty hazel eyes are?”, the stranger raises an eyebrow, entertained. his eyes are too dark to be hazel, you are probably mistaking him for someone else in your half-drunken state. a jerk who broke your heart, he dares to guess.

“you just did”, his response is followed by your giggles. you have a pretty laugh and kissable lips, he admits to himself after checking you out. don’t get him wrong, he is not planning to make any move on you, and knows better than to take advantage of someone who cannot consent.

“okay, mr. hazel eyes”, you are somewhat sober, at least, sober enough to not call him kei, “may i have your name?”.

“yuuji. terushima yuuji. and you are?”, he finds you amusing. a woman clad in such an expensive dress must hold some status, but you look nothing like other people in this hall. you seem lost, broken, vulnerable. almost like a deer in headlights. he wonders why.

“y/n. tsukishima y/n”, the name tastes more bittersweet than the wine, you note. it was so close to becoming your legal name.

a feminine voice calls your companion, and you furrow your brows. what have you gotten yourself into? a man with a date? seriously, y/n, what the hell?

“duty calls, y/n. i’m my sister’s date for the night”, yuuji makes sure to hand his number in before making his way to his sibling, and cackles when you sigh in relief at the mention of ‘sister’. you really aren’t in the mood to deal with jealous girlfriends.

after waving him goodbye, a sole glance at your surroundings urges you to get out of here. fancy dresses and tailored suits. perfect smiles and polite reverences. socializing with high-class society was never your forte. you hate their rules and unhealthy obsession with perfectionism. hypocrisy and play-pretending remind you of that woman you used to call mother.

there is a secluded balcony, where you finally breathe in some fresh air and call your coworker. your words are still a bit slurred, and she is quick to understand you really need to call it a day. done with playing cinderella tonight, you are craving the weight of your duvet and the comfort of your bed.

the jingle of your keys echoes in your apartment. you turn on the lights, looking around, your eyes frantically searching for any hint of kei. nothing. it is a cozy place, but it feels empty without him.

waking up the next morning with tear-stained cheeks, puffy eyes, and a headache is something you should have expected when you let yourself wallow in misery. a look in the mirror has you grimacing. who is that? you cannot head to work with those eyebags. bless your concealer and makeup skills. the person smiling back at you is recognizable now. it's time to girlboss, y/n.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

responsibilities come with your promotion, you are busier than ever, and days pass by quickly. your routine stays the same: food, sleep, work. it’s as if you don’t really remember how to live outside of that if he’s not by your side, but at least you are not neglecting your body’s needs. it’s only when akiteru calls you to go back to tsukishima’s that you realize how detached you have been from the outer world.

“ma!”, you have missed her dearly, she has always been there to nurse your heart when others break it, be it your biological mother, or kei. tsukishima’s mother welcomes you in her embrace. she also is home to you. this woman took you under her wing when you were a helpless little girl, and made it her goal to raise you as a fighter, having her own children protecting you along the way.

she was a teacher in the nursery school your biological mother had enrolled you in, and noticed something about you was off within the first days. when parents came to pick up their kids at school, you were always standing on the corner, watching their interactions with sparkling eyes. you always were the last kid to be picked up, your mom would show up faking an apologetic smile, but you didn’t seem too upset. you enjoyed the teacher’s company, and she, too, grew fond of you.

when you came to school with alarming bruises, she decided it was time to take matters in her hands. some calls to authorities, lots of paperwork, and a couple of years later, your biological parents were deprived of your custody. tsukishima’s mother treated you like a child of her own, she gave you a family, and the maternal love you didn’t imagine you would ever receive.

you have found yourself considering, sometimes, how your life would be if ma had never figured out you were being abused. perhaps you would not have met kei. that would have saved your heart, but would also mean giving up all the love from your found family.

“you don’t look too good”, she has asked you to stay and chat with her after dinner. you offer a sheepish smile at her observation, nothing ever has escaped from her eyes. after all, she was the one who discovered the seed of your love for kei planted in a young heart. it must have been her mother's instinct.

“i miss kei”, she is taken aback by your serenity. you don’t look like someone who just got her heart broken. right, it’s not the first time. damn that son of hers.

“he’ll be back”, you nod at the mother's reply. kei always comes back to piece your heart together, just to stomp on it and leave again. your fear of abandonment and your only lover have taught you to love until it hurts, until your heart aches. you love too fully, not knowing when to stop. perhaps your love suffocated him. maybe it was all too much.

“i met someone who looks like kei”, a change of topic. your voice drifts off in melancholy.

“but you aren't going to see him again”, she assumes right. if there's someone who might know you better than you do, it must be her. you don't wish to reach out. his pretty eyes captivated you for a blink of time, but they are not hazel, not kei's eyes. and it wouldn't be fair for yuuji to be used as a substitute. you don't want him to get the wrong idea, nor can you really bring yourself to kiss anyone who is not kei. it's not like you haven't tried that before.

things will eventually fall back to their place, she promises before sending you off. her words have always been more convincing than others'.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

dim lights, alcohol, and a crowded room. when you see him again, a few months later, your mind takes you back to the night he made you a woman. the atmosphere was similar to tonight's; the lights were somewhat brighter and there wasn't as much sexual tension. the both of you were in a rebellious phase, and wanted to try what they had told you was exclusively for couples. a taste of the forbidden. it was sweet, he wanted more, and you wanted him. your relationship went from childhood friends to something you wouldn't quite label as friends with benefits. you caught feelings. and he run away. that was the first time.

back then, ma wasn’t too surprised at kei’s sudden disappearance and your upset state. she stayed by your side, not pressuring you to talk, and you found solace in her presence. you knew that conversation would have to take place eventually, so you spoke. you told her about your love for her youngest son, how he made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, how you were afraid that he would leave you permanently. you had expected tsukishima’s mother to be disappointed in you, but instead, she held you close and advised you to give yourself some time. you still remember to this day how she told you love is not supposed to be too complicated — what’s easy is right.

“y/n”, your name sounds so delicate, so doting, in his voice. his greeting gives you an excuse to check him out and disguise your zoning out. he looks tired, but not too changed. ever since he has started to work in the museum, he requests doing research abroad every time you two break up. you have already lost count of how many times this has happened.

“welcome back, we can catch up later. i have to go”, that's your offer to solve things in bed, like you always do. bite marks, hickeys, and sex. he hasn't learnt any alternative way to show an ounce of love. you cannot keep pondering on his way of romance, you are here with your coworkers to celebrate a win on a difficult case.

he doesn’t stop you, but pulls you in for a kiss. he still tastes the same, addictive — strawberry gum flavored, and the faintest hint of cigarettes. you had told him you liked it better when his kisses tasted like strawberries. he hasn’t forgotten. your lips draw a satisfied smile before he lets you go.

“your boyfriend?”, someone asks when you sit back. people are unnecessarily nosy sometimes, but you are in a nice mood tonight, so you entertain them.

“my ex”, you feel his gaze on you, and don't hesitate in clarifying their assumption. you haven't made up yet, so he's still your ex. your colleagues look astonished, but you aren’t going to elaborate on your love life.

despite the loud music, kei overhears your response, and for some reason beyond his understanding, he is not precisely happy. his attention all focused on every move of yours, you look captivating in that black dress. as though you have noticed his possessive stare, you offer a coquettish smile. if he wants people to misunderstand your complicated relationship, two can play this game.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

when you wake up the following morning with a sore body, something feels different. you try to sit up, just to feel the grip on your waist tighten. kei is still here. wait. what? why is he still here? any sign of sleepiness retreats, and you hold your breath, waiting for him to get up.

“morning”, his hoarse voice snaps you out of your trance, it’s unfair how ethereal this man looks. he stretches, lazily, and doesn’t budge at your questioning gaze. you are used to him leaving after using your body. waking up to his hold on you and the innocence emanating from his sleeping figure is all new. which game is he playing now?

“kei”, you fight your urge to huff in annoyance when he hums in acknowledgment, “what is this?”.

“i thought we were alright now?”, heavens, his audacity will be the death of you.

“does this seem alright to you? is it really alright to leave and come back as if nothing happened?”, tears are welling up in your eyes, and his silence only serves to fuel your anger, “as if you didn’t break my heart again? what am i to you? what about us? tell me, kei. what the fuck is this game you are on? i hate it. i hate you”.

“y/n, calm down”, it sounds like a warning.

you take some deep breaths, arranging your thoughts. you guys never had an actual talk revolving around your relationship. in fact, you don’t even know why you are demanding answers from him.

“are you going to leave again?”, you aren’t sure if you want to hear his reply.

“do you want me to?”, he has mastered the art of turning the tables on. yes, a meek voice insists in your mind, he isn’t committing to this relationship. no, a desperate voice screams in your heart, you cannot afford another heartbreak.

“no. can we talk about this? please”, you cling to your blanket, in search of comfort.

“i apologise. didn’t know i hurt you so much”, he sounds more sincere than he has ever been, and he reaches your hand, a thumb mindlessly caressing it while he reassures you, “didn’t mean to hurt you. i’m sorry. would never do that on purpose”.

“i know, kei”, he might not have handled things the best way, he has a sharp tongue, and he probably excels in running away, but he would never hurt you on purpose.

tsukishima kei has always adored y/n. that’s a fact.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

life seems to be back on track after you confronted him about your conflicted feelings. you agreed on staying as friends, just friends, no benefits, until everything gets clearer. kei still often graces you with his presence, and there has been a subtle change; you feel like he is back for real.

it just so happens that fate is a player, it tries to block your way to make up with him. but this time, you are two grown ups not willing to fall victim to miscommunication.

“you were saying?”, his furrowed brows, tiny pout, and rougher voice make you feel some kind of way. it’s a twisted feeling, you know. but you love it when he is jealous.

“he is no one, kei. you should have listened to ma’s whole sentence”, he hung up before poor mom could explain the situation.

“that’s not the point, i’ll call her back later”, you chuckle at his sheepishness and deflated tone. his expression looks exactly like the one he had many years ago, when he was caught sneaking candies for you.

“you were abroad, i met someone at the gala after my promotion. yuuji terushima, mr. hazel eyes. he looked like you”, you recall the encounter.

his face shifts after hearing the name. wasn’t terushima the captain from that school in miyagi? they don’t really look alike, he thinks.

“i almost surrendered, but…”, you hesitate.

“but?”, he questions.

“but i’m rational enough to tell i don’t want anyone but you”, there, it’s finally out. a weight lifted off your shoulders. or heart.

kei exhales, relieved. his mind was running wild with all the possible ways you could have ended your sentence, and for a moment, he panicked. he knows it’s the right time to out his thoughts too. if anything, he is not going to lose you over unspoken feelings.

“i love you so much it scares me”, it’s raw emotion, but his stance does not waver at all, “i didn’t mean to run away, but after i did the first time, avoiding this talk seemed more appropriate. it was easier. but i don’t want to lose you, y/n. just give me a chance to say i love you, please”.

an ability you have not acquired yet is one that would have you denying his requests — you just don’t know how to say no when he asks so nicely. and besides, this is the moment you have been waiting for ever since your relationship started to pave way on the romantic side, even when you couldn’t tell lust and love apart. you nod, giving him an opportunity to be back, secretly hoping this will be the definitive.

“i want to take things slowly”, you make it clear from the start to avoid more misunderstandings, “smothering you in love will probably scare you, and i don’t want to force you to commit so early. let’s fall in love, all over again”.

“thank you”, he appreciates your thoroughness. after so much damage, taking baby steps presents itself as the safest option, “let’s fall in love, all over again”.

tsukishima kei will learn to love you right. that’s a promise.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

“so you are dating her for real this time?”, in an extended family dinner, someone is brave enough to inquire. you don’t give it any importance, no offense is taken. it’s only obvious that, after witnessing your boyfriend’s more tamed attitude, people are getting curious.

“yes, i am. you have a problem with that?”, his pressed lips and twitching brow show how much impertinent questions are testing his patience. he knows he has made some mistakes in the past, acquaintances’ constant reminders are not needed.

you reach for his hand under the table, and give it a tiny squeeze. his expression softens, and his demeanor relaxes. you are here. you don’t care about what they are saying. that’s enough for him.

“they are grown ups now. just let them be”, your interaction doesn’t go unnoticed by tsukishima’s mother. she holds back a joyful smile before intervening in the conversation, “i’m sure y/n doesn’t want to dwell in the past, and kei is trying to become better for her”.

her mom instinct is scarily accurate.

when fight or flight make an appearance in your relationship, you can tell how much things have changed. flight had always been his default response. this time, though, he is ready to fight, for you, for your love. he wants things to work out, he wants to love you right.

people you have met after you two became a stable couple think your love is that of a fairy tale’s. how naive of them. being with kei tsukishima is challenging, as most would say. they aren’t ready to endure his distant surface and explore the most intricate sides of his internal world. you are his exception, he would tell with the most subtle hint of pride.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

golden rays of sunlight filter through your shared apartment’s curtains, and reflect on kei’s pupils, you experience a déjà vu. that year, after your biological parents lost their custody, tsukishima’s mother took you to their home, where you first met him. even at sunset, the last rays of sunlight still lingered, kissing his delicate features goodbye. back then, the first smile he had directed at you was radiant, and your young heart already knew he would become someone important to you.

“you are staring again”, he is staring back at you, a glint of mischievousness in his hazel eyes.

“mother nature and whoever is in charge of creation have always favored you”, it’s a mindless comment, but it piques his interest.

“how so?”, he has a slight idea of what it could be, but still insists on hearing you elaborate.

“come on, kei! don’t act as if you didn’t know how pretty you are”, your small huff earns his cheekiest grin. he has always liked praise, especially if it comes from you.

“you should talk more, you know? it’s rare to hear you say nice things”, he is such a tease.

“and it’s unfair that you are asking for praise when literally everyone would worship you”, you pause for a second, thinking your words through, “i take that back. they would worship you as long as you kept your mouth shut. not everyone likes that sharp tongue of yours”.

“but you like it”, his cocky smirk is suggesting all the possible uses of that sharp tongue of his, all for your enjoyment. your cheeks flare bright red, and you move away, putting some distance between your bodies.

your phone rings, saving you from further embarrassment, and you glare at him before picking it up. in response, he chuckles, unamused.

kei watches as you speak excitedly, loses himself in the way your starry eyes blink, and how your head tilts a little while pondering, and that sweet smile of yours. you are perfect. he doesn’t think much before pecking your lips. you gasp, caught off guard, and your interlocutor inquires if you are in trouble. it’s nothing, you say, and your boyfriend’s smile grows wider — oh, he’s going to have so much fun.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

kei is not a huge fan of physical touch, but does anything for you. words of affirmation are a negative too, he is not really vocal about his affection. gift-giving gives him a headache, he is not good at guessing your preferences, unless you had mentioned them before. acts of service is a somewhat unexplored territory. so that leaves only one option. and, then, one day, you come to the realization that kei’s main love language is, effectively, quality time.

perhaps he is trying to make up for all the lost time and wasted opportunities, or it is simply because he does not like when others interrupt his time with you. you don’t know that. what you know, though, is how good it feels to be in his company. your phones turned off, the doors locked. the outer world does not matter when it’s only tsukishima kei and y/n in their little safe space.

“kei?”, it’s barely a whisper, checking if he’s still awake. he turns around, and you catch a glimpse of his hazel eyes in the moonlight. they don’t look as bright as when they are under the sun, but they are very pretty in the dark too.

he wraps an arm around your waist, hums softly to encourage you to keep talking.

“when did you know you were in love?”, it’s curiosity, and maybe, just maybe, your need for reassurance. he notices the slightest waver of your voice, and doesn’t hesitate to hold you closer. he wants you to feel how important you are, how much you mean to him.

“after our first time”, he is met with your skeptical stare. it’s hard to believe he has harbored feelings for you since the beginning.

“really?”, you don’t want to question him, but the words escape before your mind can even process them. you look at him with apologetic doe eyes, he brushes it off with a gentle smile.

“really”, a firm tone leaves no room for doubt, “i ran away like a coward, but have always loved you. i suppose it had to do with the fear of not knowing how to love you properly, or fearing mom’s reaction, or not being enough for you. i don’t know, but i owe you an apology for leaving you behind”.

your hands tentatively reach his face in the dark, and you press your lips against his. it’s a delicate kiss, a vessel of all the unsaid words, a taste of apologies and forgiveness.

“sweet dreams, kei”, you have forgiven him long ago.

tsukishima kei has always been enough.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

the sky is gray, rain is pouring down fiercely by the end of your shift. it has been a long day at work, and the weather just worsens your gloomy mood. you step out of the building, cursing yourself for trusting the forecast and abandoning your umbrella at home.

“isn’t that your ex?”, a coworker nudges you, and speaks not so discreetly.

“he’s my boyfriend. if you will excuse me”, you draw a polite smile, leave him speechless, and make your way towards kei. even in his work suit, he looks handsome.

“miss girlfriend, do you need a ride home?”, his smug smile indicates he has overheard your exchange with that colleague.

“you could have waited inside”, he ignores your mutter, taking the pilot seat, “it’s not like i don’t recognise your car”.

kei is used to your fits on bad days, and lets you act bratty. you complain about snobby clients, a lost case, the wall color of the company’s newest meeting room. he frees one hand to take yours, sight still focused on the road ahead.

sorry, you murmur. don’t worry about it, his grasp is comforting.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

“you have changed”, akiteru makes a casual comment, standing beside his brother on the porch. the youngest sibling and you are here to visit and help ‘teru with baby-sitting his firstborn while his wife is on vacation to her hometown.

“how bad is it?”, kei shows a lopsided smile. the irony of akiteru pointing out his transformation when he isn’t one who suddenly announced fatherhood. but to be fair, you guys should have expected so from a married man.

“it’s not bad. haven’t you noticed how you seem to radiate joy?”, ‘teru is quick to explain in detail at the other’s astonished expression, “i used to like how you were because you are my brother, but now you have really grown into someone i’m proud of. facing your feelings and tying loose up ends with y/n shows how much you have matured over time. i must admit you are not a child anymore”.

“thank you, ‘teru”, he fails to hold back a pleased smile, turns around to conceal it and checks up on you.

akiteru excuses himself to go inside and make dinner, leaving you guys alone with the child. kei approaches you. it’s sweet seeing you cradling a baby; he used to be afraid of commitment, but now, after seeing you with his niece, a warm feeling settles in his chest. he even fantasizes about a child of his own, with you.

“isn’t she adorable?”, you hand him the baby, whose tiny arms are reaching for her uncle. kei holds her with utmost gentleness, and nods in agreement. his heart melts a little when the little one nuzzles against the crook of his neck.

eighteen year old tsukishima kei thought commitment and happy ever afters were scary. now, twenty eight year old tsukishima kei thinks a family doesn’t sound so bad.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

love, as many things in this life, is a double-edged sword. you put the handle in his hands, and trust him to not aim the blade at your heart. your heart in his hands, and his, in yours. it’s a game, a bet of who is going to succumb first. who is going to betray who. you bet he is going to stay, and he knows you will too.

love also is butterflies in one’s stomach, what literature has been teaching you since a tender age. you have thought about how unfair it is to describe such a pure and long-lasting feeling with an ephemeral life. butterflies have their beauty, but they are short moments in time, and you don’t want your love to be that. you want a love that lasts.

love should not be too complicated, follow your heart, ma once said. back then, you weren’t quite sure of what she meant. you think you might be understanding now — you no longer feel butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach, but you don’t love kei any less, and might even love him more than before. butterflies in one’s stomach is a myth, a warning of instability. true love is calmness, the assurance of having your beloved close. you don’t have to worry about falling into the traps of scheming, and just go along with what is to come. loving is easy.

love is a spark in your eyes, a smile on your face, a heartbeat. it’s when kei is around and, almost unconsciously, you feel happier. it’s when his sole presence makes you feel alive. love is hazel eyes, blond hair, and a grumpy pout. love, your love, is tsukishima kei.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

kei keeps a paper with vows — he will not let you know about this until the day you guys decide to get married. you also don’t know about the engagement ring hidden in his pocket tonight.

“you have told me how pretty my eyes looked on our first meeting, but i have always wanted to tell you i prefer yours over mine — sunset looked more magical than ever in your eyes that evening.

(thank you, mom, for bringing us together and for looking after her when i was not there).

i have made mistakes, and i never expected you would let me come back. but you did. thank you for all the chances. i'm not the best at wording my feelings, but i have to tell you how much i love you.

when you told me ‘let’s fall in love , all over again’, i knew you would be the first and the last, the only right one. i would not want to commit to any romantic relationship if it’s not with you.

sharing morning coffees, waiting for you on rainy days and having your coworkers envy our relationship, watching how you take care of ‘teru’s baby, spending lazy weekends in bed.

the most mundane things have become better in your company. i guess this is how i knew i fell in love, again”.

note; ellow, thank you for reading! tsukki might be a bit ooc, apologies fot that, but i actually enjoyed working on this fic. he is just a baby who doesn't know how to word his feelings, but tries his best (especially for the vows). i don't have much to say, just happy valentine's, lovelies! <3

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x you #tsukki x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

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mix-of-headcanons · 1 year

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By pure chance, I discovered @castleaudios some time after basically binging through Willothewispaudio's Ashwood Grove series and I love that Glenwood gives me basically the same vibes.

So now it's time to write about Castle's characters that are my personal favourite. So far I'm very hooked with Genevieve, Beth, Miss Liza, Abby and Rose, and Claire's storylines (I also adore Chloe but I'm not sure if her storyline is over or if she's basically just out of the picture for a bit.)

Disclaimer: These are just personal headcanons that I came up with, of course Castle's word takes precedence over mine should there be any contradicting statements in any of my current or future posts.

Without further delay, let's get right to it!

Beth Headcanons:

With Episode Ties:

[Flashback Episode] Beautiful grabbing her tail sent her into a moment of frenzy because when shifted, she has a specific tickle spot just where her tail meets her spine that makes her go crazy.

Beautiful finds out about this weak spot one time after Beth teasingly pins them down beneath her by sitting on them in her shifted form.

The Seer tries to wiggle their way out, but to no success and instead tried desperately looking for any weak spots to exploit.

Accidentally scratched at the spot and Beth went limp before getting a hold of herself, proceeding to jump off of Beautiful as soon as she got her canine impulses back under control.

[Sick Seer Episode] Stays awake the whole night watching over Beautiful after successfully putting the Seer to sleep.

On a normal day Beth normally would fall right into sleep after Beautiful falls asleep, but whenever her mate is sick she just can't find it in herself to doze off-

Irrational "What-ifs" always going through her mind in times like these.

Only manages to squeeze in a few minutes of shut-eye just after Beautiful wakes up the next day under the guise of "Five more minutes."

[Tailoring Clothes Episode] Beth randomly gifts Beautiful a personalized clothing item after she gets their measurements the first time that the Seer visits the shop.

Crocheting is not her strongest suite, but she did her best to make a hooded poncho for Beautiful on their birthday. With the color palette consisting of the Seer's favorite colors.

Likes to make the clothes she sews for Beautiful be in the Seer's favorite colors.

Always manages to find inconspicuous spots to sew pockets in the said clothes.

On one April Fool's Day, she gifted Beautiful a set of underwear made with lace fabrics just because she was curious about what reaction the Seer would have after unboxing the gift.

[Helping You Sleep Episode] Beautiful found out the hard way that Beth has a weird quirk of balling up in her sleep so the blanket covers her whole body.

Beautiful is abruplty woken up from a dreamless sleep by the feeling of being sweaty.

They immediately throw the blanket off of them and Beth wakes up groggy, grumpy, and disoriented. "You fucked up my cocoon.."

Immediately fell back asleep after those words, without enveloping herself in the blanket.

Woke up feeling weird, and kept feeling weird throughout the day without being able to explain why, because she doesn't remember her blanket cocoon being rudely thrown open by Beautiful.

Beautiful never told her that they accidentally disrupted the cocoon ritual by instinct....

[Reverse Comfort Episode] Beth found that she calms down a lot quicker when Beautiful gently runs a hand through her hair while simultaneously scratching at her scalp with a light pressure.

Prefers to lay her head on Beautiful's lap instead of cuddling when she needs to be calmed down, or reassured.

Sometimes when she's having those days where she's unable to pinpoint what she's upset with, she'll ask Beautiful to read to her.

Beth never stops being shy about asking them to read to her.

No Episode Ties:

Beth may not have a sweet tooth, but she has a thing for savory foods like cinnamon buns, or a chicken burger with just a bit of kick.

Although she likes mild spice, she cannot under any circumstances stomach real spicy food.

She tried for Beautiful once, and ended up spending more time in the bathroom than she'd care to admit.

Has a very wide array of liked music genres

Listens to Lana Del Rey, Conan Grey, Twice, Dreamcatcher, Jazz, Pop-punk, Classical, and sometimes movie or series soundtracks.

Really doesn't vibe with overly convoluted Techno, Phonk, or EDM though.

Has a few Disney guilty pleasure songs known by heart.

Loves I'm Still Here from Treasure Planet

Her and Claire would sing the song like a duet when they have a moment to bond with just themselves.

#castleaudios #castle audios #castleaudios beth #Beth castle audios #Werewolf #Seer #glenwood

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seraphimcollections · 2 years

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stars aligned // Namor/deaf!reader

chapter 3

Warnings: no warnings in this one

Synopsis: Namor and Namora share an interesting conversation while Thulile gets slightly more comfortable in her captivity.

Word count: 1k

Additional notes: as a holiday gift to everyone, I decided to post one more chapter for today! I’ll be taking the next few days off for the holiday but I’ll be posting soon! Thanks for reading, and happy holidays!!

Yucatec Maya:

In ajawo’ - my king

ka’a suku’un - cousin

le mareas le destino cambiarán ti' le Kukulkan ka le ku desafía u k'aay sirena ku pare tu taan leti' - the tides of fate will shift for the Kukulkan when the one who defies the siren’s call stands before him

In disculpas - my apologies

ch.1. ch.2.

______________________________________________________________

Namor stepped into his private sanctum. Almost every wall was adorned with hand painted murals of his own creations. Namor stepped around his table with different paints and parchments covered in every kind of swatch of various colors. His dark eyes cast down to his wrist, seeing the dark beads he’d picked off his prisoner. His very fascinating prisoner, for a land-dweller.

“How did she write it…Thulile, that was it,” Namor grumbled to himself.

Of course he couldn’t forget such a name, it was like something he never had and yet it had his full attention. A fact equally attributed to its holder. Namor would be a fool to ignore that his prisoner was easy on the eyes with a fiery stubbornness to match. But that’s all these were, observations. Nothing more.

Namor picked up his palette and brush, returning to his latest unfinished mural. However the ancient king wouldn’t be allowed to sink into his focus when one of his prized generals stepped into the hut, announcing her arrival.

“In ajawo’,” Namora held her hands open in their custom, “may I approach?”

Namor held a smile, never taking his eyes away from the mural, before nodding, “of course, general. What do you need from me?”

“We should discuss the prisoner,” Namora said.

“What of it?” Namor said, pretending to be disinterested.

“You could not of seen it, in ajawo’,” Namora watched her king carefully, “it is exactly how the prophecy said.”

The brush in Namor’s gentle hand stopped centimeters from the stone before he placed it back on the palette with a sigh.

“Not with this again, ka’a suku’un,” Namor placed the palette on the table, “that prophecy was a silly bedtime story, you know this.”

“How could you say that? Fen saw it for herself, spoke of it on her deathbed,” Namora argued. “le mareas le destino cambiarán ti' le Kukulkan ka le ku desafía u k'aay sirena ku pare tu taan leti'.”

“Yes, I know it just as well,” Namor waved dismissively.

“Then you see it the same as I do, my king,” Namora placed her hand on the table. “You are not blind, and neither was Fen.”

Namor smiled cynically, “yes, I can not deny my mother’s dying words, but that still doesn’t change the danger in such fantastical words. The tides will change, that could very well spell the end of Talokanil as we know it. No, I will not risk our people and our home over a silly fairytale.”

Namora frowned before standing straight once more, “well, I will honor that.”

“I wish to honor that I do not want to speak of this again,” Namor said, removing the kimoyo beads from his wrist, “prepare a small militia, it’s time to move out.”

Namora watched as Namor walked past her to exit the hut, “may I ask where we are headed.”

“Wakanda,” Namor smirked.

Back in her cell, Thulile was turning it nearly upside down. She looked in every nook and cranny, looking for a weak point or something to tinker together. After her tireless search, Thulile let out a frustrated wail, throwing her hands up. There was absolutely nothing to be found besides the swinging hammock.

Next Thulile tried the bars. She tried everything, squeezing between them, prying them open and picking the lock with a small bobby pin that somehow wasn’t washed away. Nothing worked. Thulile let out another wail as she banged against the bars, letting her hang in defeat. Thulile tried her best to calm her breathing but the panic wasn’t going away. Thousands of thoughts shot through her mind.

‘So there’s been a secret civilization of blue people at the bottom of the ocean for gods know how long with a king with pointy ears and feathers for feet. What’s tough to understand?’ Thulile thought.

Too lost in her thoughts, Thulile didn’t realize a woman approached her cell. The masked blue woman looked at Thulile with an amused smile before gently tapping on her hand. Thulile jumped back, throwing her hands up in defense only to see the young servant standing there. The servant giggled at Thulile’s reaction. Thulile looked over the woman, sensing her softer demeanor.

“You are Thulile, yes?” the woman said kindly.

Thulile squinted, reading the woman’s lips before nodding.

“My english is rocky, in disculpas,”the woman gestured to a woven basket she held in her hands, “I’ve been asked to give you these.”

Thulile watched as the woman placed the basket in front of the bars before stepping back. Thulile looked at the woman again before approaching the basket like an animal scouting out the danger. Thulile pulled the clothes out of the basket and brought them to her chest. Thulile blinked in confusion as the woman opened the palms of her hands, one of the other, and bowed her head.

“May a KuKulkan bless you, prophesied one,” the woman said.

The woman smiled and walked away. Thulile, successfully confused, tried to wave the woman down to no avail. Thulile sighed while unfolding the metaphorical olive branch. Thulile blinked in shock seeing it fold out into a dress of intricate details. It was beautifully made, woven in shells and seaglass into beautiful archaic patterns reminiscent of the Maya. Thulile looked around in disbelief, feeling there had been some sort of mistake.

‘Is this how they dress all of their prisoners?’ Thulile thought.

Nevertheless, she needed to get out of her soaked clothes. Taking another gaze around to make sure there weren’t any prying eyes, Thulile began to undress down to her undergarments. Thulile couldn’t help the shiver that cast over her body giving way to gooseflesh. Quickly Thulile threw on the dress, grateful for its long sleeves and how it dropped down to her ankles. Thulile twisted around, nodding at the craftsmanship.

Thulile twisted her locs hair up into a messy bun as her mind replayed the servant’s strange words. She spoke of a prophecy, more than that, that she herself was prophesied. Thulile felt her mind become dizzy before collapsing back on the hammock.

‘Madder and madder it gets…Bast, make sense of this mess.’

#namor #namorxreader #namor x reader #fanfic #wakandaforever #blackpanther #marvel #deafreader #shuri #nakia #namora #attuma #talokan

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jacksonroseroth · 2 months

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~The Price~Chapter 25~

Moodboard made by @badwolf-in-the-impala none of the pictures are ours

After leaving the tattoo shop, Thatcher took her to a little cafe on the corner of Main St and made sure they were seated by the window so Taddie would have the perfect view of everything as they set up lights and other displays for the Christmas Parade. Thatcher explained it; The route started at town hall at one end of town, then went down Main St. that went straight through town to the fire station. There would be vendors walking along the route giving out popcorn, cotton candy, hot chocolate, candy canes and presents to the families that would all gather to watch. Taddie listened, but only partly, for as she stared out the windows, she slowly lowered her chin into her hand as she watched the snow fall over the street and the people working.

As the sun got more and more blocked out, it created a misty, mystical effect over the street and Taddie’s mind began working. Thatcher had quickly realized she wasn’t listening, at least he thought she wasn’t, and had stopped talking, simply watching her watch, a smile on his face. Taddie pulled out her phone and set it up to get the best, wide shots of the street that she could to use as references later. As she swiped through, her smile growing, she finally registered that Thatcher had gone quiet and for some time. She blushed and quickly put her phone away, resting her head in both her hands as she looked up at him with a sweet smile, showing him he had her undivided attention now. Thatcher chuckled and slid his hands across the table for hers, Taddie slipping her fingers into his palms as they both chuckled before moving onto another conversation before their waitress came up to take their order.

They ate in a comfortable silence, stealing glances at each other and chuckling to themselves. After Thatcher paid, they wandered around Main St. for a while before he drove them back to the house. They fooled around in a little nook on the front porch before walking in and Thatcher immediately leading Taddie to her painting room, locking the door behind them so none of his brothers would just barge in looking for them. With a deep sigh, Taddie tugged off her sweater and draped it over the back of her chair before moving the bouquet painting from the easel, gently setting it against the wall, on the floor and out of the way. She grabbed another blank canvas, slightly bigger and more rectangular, setting ot on the easel before slipping into her chair and dragging her paints closer.

Thatcher set himself up in an armchair in the corner, watching her with an amused smile as she squirted out a few colors onto a fresh palette and began brushing a grey onto the canvas. Once she had a base color, she whipped out her phone and selected one of the better pictures of Main St., beginning to sketch out the buildings and people before she picked up her brush again and got to work. After a while, Thatcher stood and went to her, taking a closer look at her work in progress, gently sliding his hands over her shoulders. She suddenly sat back with a sharp breath, then let out a deep sigh as she looked up at him with a smile.

“Don’t stop, kitten. Don’t let me distract you.” Thatcher said, dropping a kiss to her forehead, then her temple. Taddie let out a light giggle and tilted her head back more, silently asking for a kiss as well. Thatcher obliged, pressing his lips to hers in a drawn out kiss before he whispered against them, “It’s been an hour. I’ll be back, ja? Text me if you need something…Or me.”

“I always need you.” She teased at him, nipping at his lower lip with a soft giggle before she turned to her canvas again, dipping her brush in the paint and taking it to the canvas. Thatcher chuckled, sliding his fingers over her neck and rubbing, gently, then kissed the top of her head and left.

Taddie quickly forgot he had left, in fact, she’d forgotten where she actually was as she painted canvas after canvas for the next few hours. As she painted, the light outside got dimmer and dimmer until it was nearly dark and she turned her easel from the window, deciding to finish her painting in the morning, then grabbed a new canvas as she settled herself and looked around the room with a light sigh. She wanted to keep painting, but she’d done several from her pictures on her phone, then the backyard as it was seen through the window. As her eye was drawn to an ornate mirror on the far wall, she saw she was at the perfect angle that caught the gazebo that was lit up in the garden, the mirror facing another, smaller window, in between a bookcase and the wall. Taddie’s lips lifted and she quickly drew up the room before she began painting, her eyes flickering all over the room as she added details.

Whatever Thatcher had left to do, had kept him for nearly 3 hours before he realized and rushed back to the room. He burst in and it made Taddie jump and look up at him with a gasp, glaring at him, briefly, before she checked her painting to see if she’d messed it up, then flickered her gaze up to him, giving him another fierce look. He gave her a wince and a sheepish smile before going to her, stopping when he realized she had more canvases up against the wall.

“Sorry, kitten, I…I lost…Track of time-You did all these while I was gone?” Thatcher asked, carefully picking one up by the sides and looking it over with a smile. The corners of Taddie’s lips lifted in a smile and she nodded as she said, her voice a little deeper and monotone, “When I’m inspired, I’m inspired. I tend not to stop until I’m finished or I lose it…Where did you go?”

“I got caught up in some business with the band. I’m sorry I took so long-”

“You said an hour.” Taddie said with a shrug as she narrowed her gaze at the canvas, slowly dragging the tip of her brush along a line. The tip of her tongue found its way between her teeth as she drew her brows together, scared of making a mistake. Thatcher chuckled as he watched her, then said, “Princess, I’ve been gone for 3 hours. It was 2:30 when I left you. It’s nearly 6 now.”

Taddie’s gaze flickered up to him, holding it as she stayed silent. Thatcher snickered softly and said, “You get time blindness when you paint, don’t you?”

“Sometimes. I’m so sorry, did I miss dinner?” Taddie asked, quickly putting her things away. Thatcher chuckled and shook his head as he went to her and said, “Not at all. I came down to get you to come up and change with me.”

Taddie nodded and didn’t slow her pace, as in her mind she was going to make them late for dinner and it made her anxiety jump about in her chest. Finally, Thatcher caught her by the waist, wrapping his arm around her stomach and spinning her around, gently pinning her to the wall behind her, back her into it. She managed a squeak before his lips were on hers in a deep, passionate kiss. Taddie melted into it, forgetting why she was so anxious, and it slowly faded away. She pushed her hands up his chest and let out a soft moan, sliding a hand around to the back of his neck, threading her fingers through his hair.

Breaking the kiss, Taddie tilted her head back with a light gasp and a soft whine as Thatcher’s lips traveled down her neck. She pressed her cheek to his as she said, “Were-Weren’t we-Didn’t you come-come down to…Grab me to ch-change?”

“I did. Are you ready now? You know you don’t need to keep it pristine in here. It’s your art room. No one comes in here but you. When we leave to go back to Roanoke, I’ll give you a key. It stays locked when you’re not here.” Thatcher muttered against her skin. Taddie let out a light gasp then quickly shook her head as she pushed at his shoulders, making him pull back.

“Wha-N-No, no, Patch--That-That’s too much. I’m not locking your family out of a room in their own home because I’m not here. No. Please?” Taddie begged, drawing her brows together in concern. Thatcher chuckled at her and lifted his hand to her cheek.

“This is your room. They have numerous others that are theirs…I have my room. You have this room. It’s okay, kitten.” He said, stroking his thumb over her cheek. She blinked, forgetting her dilemma at his comment, then drew her brows together and said, “Wait…You-You don’t have a music room or something here? How many rooms are in this place?”

“About 25? Tyr isn’t fond of my kind of music and banned it from the house. We’ve got a studio here in town. One in Richmond. I’ve made it clear the only representation I’ll give of the family is by not moving out completely and being around for true family events. I don’t have rooms dedicated to secret hits or people that owe money…I have my bedroom with my things. That’s all I need around family.” Thatcher said, sliding his fingers under her chin, lifting it, lightly. “I make my own family.”

“What about Tristan and Theo?”

“We’ve always been close…But they’re more into the business than me. I still keep them at a distance. They’re my brothers, I love them-I’d die for them…I don’t hold them too close anymore.” Thatcher said, with a light, sad sounding sigh. Taddie pulled his hand from her chin then took his face between her hands as she gazed up at him, drawing her brows together.

“You’ve really been alone all your life, haven’t you? Tristan and Theo had each other…Thomas doesn’t seem fond of anyone…Your dad banned your music…But your mom seems to-”

“My mother loves us…” Thatcher started, wanting to continue and say all these wonderful things about her, but in truth; Once the twins came along, Thomas was old enough that Thatcher truly became the middle child and was more or less ignored in favor of his brothers. Not that he minded it once he got older, he was able to rebel in peace and expand his music into joining Omens. But as he struggled to find something to praise his mother on, he couldn’t because everything he thought about, was when the two were alone and she all but had no choice except to give him all her love and attention. Thatcher soaked it in, probably one of the only reasons he never minded not having someone to go off with during Christmas Day, because he had his mother all to himself.

“Patch.”

“I’m fine…” Thatcher said, bluntly, obviously not fine. Taddie lifted on her toes to kiss him, soft and slow, then nuzzled her nose into his cheek. Thatcher let out a deep, almost exhausted, sigh and wrapped his arms around her, making sure to wrap around the middle over her back and not her waist. Nuzzling into her curls, he said, a little more genuinely, “I’m fine, baby.”

“Are you sure? You know-I’m not gonna think you’re any less of a man or something if you’re sad or upset about being alone. People get sad, it’s-”

Thatcher quickly pulled back and said, “No. Please, stop. That-That’s not it…It’s just--This is how it is in my family. It’s what I’ve known for 35 years. Look, can we not--”

“I’m sorry. I just-I wanted you to know you can talk to me.” Taddie said, tugging her hands down and picking at her nails, chewing her lip. He gave her a grateful and warm smile as he nodded and ducked down to brush his lips over hers before he said, “I know, kitten. But, I don’t want to do that now. Not here. Thank you, Princess.”

“Of course, Patch.” Taddie breathed before he kissed her, deeply, then slid his hands down her arms, taking her hands and breaking the kiss.

“Let’s go change and go to dinner.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Thatcher let out a soft groan, then bent lower to grasp the backs of her knees, hauling her into the air and making her shriek out a laugh, wrapping her arms around his neck. She giggled and kissed over his cheeks as he carried her out, pulling the door shut behind him. He chuckled and snuck a kiss here or there, his hands sliding over her thighs and backside, muttering at her in Swedish. As Thatcher walked into the foyer, his hand slid over her cheek and giving a squeeze, making her bounce once as she squeaked then giggled, locking her lips to his. She let out a soft sigh and Thatcher nearly dropped her and toppled over as he heard someone clearing their throat and he broke the kiss, quickly setting her on her feet.

Taddie let out a soft gasp, quickly wiping her lips and keeping herself turned away before glancing over her shoulder, her cheeks going red instantly. Tora stood in the foyer with Thomas and Lara, Tora’s brow arched in judgement as she stared at Taddie, giving her a once over. Taddie bit her lip and looked away, fighting tears of embarrassment. Thatcher shifted, keeping his arm around Taddie as he cleared his throat and said, “Mother…I, um, we-we didn’t see you-”

“No, I would think not-” Tora said, adding a slurry of Swedish that made Thatcher’s face turn red, moreso as he saw Thomas smirking behind their mother.

“I’m sorry, Mother. We were just going upstairs to change for dinner.” Thatcher said, lowering his gaze in respect.

“I’m sure…” Thomas remarked, earning him a stern look from his mother as she whipped her head toward him. Thomas’ smirk wiped from his face and he turned to Lara, urging her down the hall then following her. Taddie shuffled on her feet and chewed her lip as she tried to shift away from Thatcher as Tora turned back to them, staring hard at the couple.

“Taddie, will you give me a moment with my son?” Tora asked. Taddie quickly nodded and slipped from Thatcher’s side, hurrying up the stairs before he could do so much as call after her once.

“Taddie--” Thatcher sighed and rubbed a hand over his face before turning to Tora as he said, “Mother-I really, really like this woman. Please-You cannot--”

“Do not treat my home as a whorehouse. If you want to kiss her, fine. If you want to makeout, you do it privately, and if you ever do it in public around this family, you will not touch her like that-Am I clear?” Tora said in a firm tone. Thatcher closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Tora turned to him, taking a few steps closer. Thatcher opened his eyes as she lifted a hand to touch his cheek and said, “I am overjoyed you’re happy with her, my son. But even you need to have limits. You are still a Price.”

“Yes, Mother.” Thatcher said in a defeated tone. Tora let out a soft tsk at him and kissed his cheek before she said, “Please don’t be upset with me, Thatcher. She’s a wonderful young woman, but if she’s to be part of this family, she’ll be held to certain standard as well. You need to make sure she’s the one.”

“She is.” Thatcher hissed, quickly looking away from his mother and closing his eyes with a deep sigh, irritated with himself. Tora raised her brows at him, surprised, then nodded along as she said, “Very well…Then, she should fit it over time, if she’s comfortable around us.”

“She’s uncomfortable because she thinks she doesn’t belong here already and you and Thomas making comments doesn’t help. I’m sorry, Mother-But sh-she-she’s-Taddie’s had--” Thatcher sighed and internalized a groan as her rubbed his hands over his face, sinking down to the bottom stair. Tora eased herself down beside him and slid a hand over her son’s back, comfortingly. “She trusted me, Mother-I’ve only told the twins because they can help me protect her-”

“Why does she need protecting? She’s a bartender?” Tora asked, concerned and confused. Thatcher sighed, heavily and sat back as he turned his head to her with tearful eyes as he said, quietly, “Her ex was abusive. She was with him for 8 years-He tore her down so bad, she thinks she’s a burden for wanting basic things, like affection or attention…Please be nice to her, Mother.”

Tora’s brows drew together as she let out a soft ‘Oh’, briefly covering her mouth before she pulled her son into a hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Thatcher sniffled, lightly, then sighed as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder. Tora pressed her nose and mouth into his hair, then pressed a kiss to his temple as she whispered, “I didn’t know you felt this strongly about her--I-I didn’t know she-When you brought Lucy home-”

“Never mention her name-Not when Taddie is around.” Thatcher said, quickly pulling back with a frightened and worried look. Tora took his face in her hands for a moment, her brows drawing tightly together as she nodded, then pulled him back into the hug.

“Of course, my love. Of course…Oh, Thatcher, you need to tell her about Lucy. If she’s confided in you about her ex, you need to do the same about yours…Go, my son. You’ll be late for dinner.” Tora whispered, gently, kissing his cheek before she stood him up and wiped his face, then fixing his shirt. Thatcher smiled, lightly, and took his mother’s hands, kissing the backs and bowing his head to her respectfully. “Go on, my son. Get her dressed.”

“Yes, Mother.” Thatcher said, kissing her cheek and giving a final sniffle as he went up the stairs, clearing his throat as well. Tora sighed and bit her lip, watching her son walk across the landing then disappear down the hall. With her son’s former heartbreak, she was now concerned that Thatcher was once again moving too fast and would get hurt again.

Let me know what you guys think! <3 If you'd like to be added to the taglist, send me a message! <3

Taglist: @badwolf-in-the-impala @sweetwombatpizza

#bad omens #bad omens fan fic #the price #bad omens mafia au #jolly fan fic #joakim jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #noah sebastian #jolly karlsson

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druidgroves · 1 year

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big thank to @bunfey for sending me asks abt my baldur's gate girlies !!! putting them all together so i don't spam the dash <3

It doesn't take much to embarrass Dianthe and her wild magic--usually the source of her embarrassment--does nothing to help this. She was raised as a noble and her family already sees her as an infernal stain on their lineage (she has also more than once made a fool of herself or her family in front of other nobles, earning more of her parent's shame). This is why she hates when she has to appear in court or at important events with her family because something embarrassing almost always happens--they usually let her stay home unless absolutely necessary. She also hates performing magic in front of people for this reason and part of why her wild magic goes off like it does is because she's too busy worrying about doing something embarrassing.

Feron is incredible chill. The chillest druid this side of Faerûn. Impossible to fluster...when she's in animal form. She most often gets embarrassed after doing a social faux pas when out of wildshape because she doesn't realize she's done something wrong until everyone is staring at her like she's crazy and she's just like "...did i say something stupid." She was raised by a hag during her adolescent years and then was taken in by a ranger who was just as socially inept as Feron was, she didn't have a chance in hell.

Dianthe thinks she looks best in dark gemstone colors (usually blues or greens), since her entire being is incredibly bright. She can't help but draw attention to herself and does her best to downplay it by dressing in darker, more unassuming clothing. She actually looks the best in bright pastels but that's too far outside of her comfort zone.

Feron supposes she looks alright in green and prefers a natural color palette over all. Whether or not she actually looks good in them isn't her biggest concern, as long as whatever she's wearing is practical.

Dianthe trusts those who put their trust in her as well. She has good insight on people and how they'll react to her (a skill honed when she was young and was constantly having to gauge how people take to her and in what ways). As long as the person isn't doing awful horrible things, Dianthe will generally put as much trust in someone as they do her, which can be a bit hard when it comes to friendships with people like Shadowheart and Astarion.

Feron is generally mistrustful of most people, places, and things, but can you really blame her? Mad Margaery instilled in her that she could not trust anyone completely and for a very long time living with her adoptive ranger dad, always had a fear that he would eventually turn her out. It takes a lot to earn her trust entirely, but once you do, she is unerringly loyal.

Dianthe has always been a bit fidgety, coming from being constantly worried about how she presents herself. She's constantly fixing her hair, smoothing out her clothes, etc. and you will never see her very still for long. She is trying to cultivate her image !!

Feron can spend aaaaages doing nothing. One of her favorite pastimes is wildshaping into various creatures and just. chilling. experiencing the world through whatever beast she is. Different wild shapes provide something new each time so she never really gets bored.

#ch: dianthe parvenus #ch: feron reachwood #thank u bunny ily !!!!

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night-unfurls-its-splendour · 2 years

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Because I am an impatient fool, i posted my color palettes and collages separately, first the Palettes with explanations and then the collages, which I made later. So here is all of them together in one grand master-post because I can't stop obsessing over these fucking things. I've made tweaks and changes, edited, re-edited and now I think I've finally got them all nailed down.

Bella

Bella's palette is actually one of my favorites because it seems the most cohesive. There's a bunch more colors I could have included but i wanted to stick with five for every character, so these are the essentials.

(Left to right)

- Deep Blue (Hex: #04237E) RGB: 4, 35, 126

- Peaches (Hex: #FFCDC2) RGB: 255, 205, 194

- Cream (Hex: #FBF5ED) RGB: 251, 245, 257

- Classic Chevy (Hex: #DD7053) RGB: 221, 112, 83

- Chocolate (Hex: #402419) RGB: 64, 36, 25

Deep Blue is sort of Bella's theme color for me. I mean it would probably be brown since it's her favorite, but I like blue better and I definitely understand why Edward likes it on her. On top of which, sapphire is her birthstone. The pale pink (matched from the blush of the subject in Flaming June) and cream, which compliment the blue, are obviously representing her human skin tone. The chocolate brown is for her eyes and hair, and the red, as the name says, is for her Chevy, which I love, and which just really went well with the rest of the palette.

Edward

- Ocher Gold (Hex: #C88531) RGB: 200, 133, 49

- Bronze (Hex: #43180D) RGB: 67, 24, 13

- Silver Volvo (Hex: #C5CBCB) RGB: 197, 203, 203

- Khaki (Hex: #AFA586) RGB: 175, 165, 134

- Lilac (Hex: #BBA6BF) RGB: 187, 166, 191

Edward's palette is very muted because he's allergic to color, but it turned out nicer than I thought it would. It features (left to right)

Gold is the eye color of all the Cullens, of course, so it isn't unique to Edward, except that it's the theme color for his bedroom, and is probably a favorite of his. The bronze obviously signifies his hair, and Silver volvo is very self-explanatory--as is the khaki, which as we all know is Edward's real favorite color. Lilac is a bit more abstract--I decided to include it because Bella's description of Edward's scent (post-turning, when she can pick out all the notes) is Honey, lilac and sun.

[Featured images and reference pictures used for color matching: photo from the set of Eclipse (2010) of Edward's bedroom (Gold theme color), Bronze miniature of Eros and Psyche (edward's hair), Lilac cluster (references edward's scent as described by bella), Khaki pants, 2003 Silver Volvo S60R]

Carlisle

Carlisle was a little tough to decide on. It started out very... boring. Carlisle's not a particularly colorful person, but I made some tweaks and I like it rather a lot.

- Crucifix (Hex: #2E2420) RGB: 46, 36, 32

- Parchment (Hex: #D99D5A) RGB: 217, 157, 90

- Mint Green (Hex: #B5CEB8) RGB: 181, 206, 184

- Churchstone (Hex: #293838) RGB: 41, 56, 56

- Black Mercedes (Hex: #141217) RGB: 20, 18, 23

The one color I was certain I wanted in this palette is this brown. This is my theme color for Carlisle--it's the dark brown color of his crucifix, and the paneling in his office. I love how much Carlisle likes to evoke the time period he lived in in his personal spaces. Esme has free reign over the whole house, but Carlisle's office is starkly different and it's all dark stained wood and dusty books, which is so authentically 17th century it just makes my heart sing.

Churchstone represents the houses of worship that Carlisle loves to visit and finds comfort in, Along the same lines, the second color is parchment, which is matched from an extant frakturschriften work from the Historic Ephrata Cloister in Ephrata, Pennsylvania. The site's unique religious history makes me certain that Carlisle must have visited it at some point in the last several decades.

The mint is a little nod to Carlisle's profession, because cool greens are commonly used in hospitals, and the black (rather superficially) is for his Mercedes.

Esme

Esme's palette was a delight for me, and I think it, like Bella's, is very cohesive and just really pretty.

(Left to right)

- Cerulean (Hex: #0D4B8A) RGB: 13, 75, 138

- Cornflower (Hex: #5C76CC) RGB: 92, 118, 204

- Wool Sweater (Hex: #CFC9BD) RGB: 207, 201, 189

- Beechwood (Hex: #E2B16F) RGB: 226, 177, 111

- Caramel (Hex: #B14C22) RGB: 177, 76, 34

Cerulean has just been my go to color for Esme pretty much since I first read the book. I have no idea why? I think Elizabeth Reaser was wearing it in the promo stills for the first film and it just stuck, but whatever the reason, I still hold that Esme looks great in Cerulean. Perhaps it's representative of the water around Isle Esme. Or maybe just because I think it would look nice with her Caramel hair.

Beechwood, because unless I'm mistaken that's the "honey-colored" wood that is her go-to for flooring and paneling in her interior design. Ivory was originally my choice because it's quite evocative of her life-time. But after some nagging constructive criticism from my sister I made some slight changes with both the ivory and the next color. Robin's egg blue was originally the second color. It was a place holder initially, because I asked my sister what color she most associated with Esme, and I thought, well it's a very fitting, motherly color. With hindsight, though, she proposed cornflower blue, instead, and although I still do like the original palette with Robins egg and ivory, I think this version is superior.

Alice

Alice was a head-scratcher. I only had two colors that I really associate with her, but I think it turned out okay.

- Black Satin (Hex: #282D2D) RGB: 40, 45, 45

- Dark Lip (Hex: #605054) RGB: 96, 80, 84

- Ice Blue (Hex: #96DDE0) RGB: 150, 221, 224

- Canary Yellow (Hex: #FDC504) RGB: 253, 197, 4

- Orange Scarf (Hex: #DA6718) RGB: 218, 103, 24

Black was the first color I had chosen for Alice, and I color-matched this to a picture of the Cerruti gown that Meyer used as inspiration for her prom dress.

The dusty purple was rather clever of me, if I say it myself. I took a screen cap of Alice from Twilight and color matched her lip-stick under the blue-tint, and I just loved it. It's a dark shade of mauve, the theme color for Bella's wedding in Breaking Dawn Pt. 1 (ironic, since mauve is a mourning color), but I think it also suits the morose side of Alice's back-story.

Ice blue was a choice I made because the ice blue dress she puts on Bella for her newborn awakening always really stuck out to me, but also because I think it suits Alice, since, for a very extroverted person, she has this very chilly side.

The canary yellow was the other color I picked of the top of my head--it goes well with black and it's also the color of her beloved Porsche 911.

Originally the last color was a light mauve, taken from Alice's bridesmaid's dress, but I've since altered it to a shade of orange, color-matched from Tamara De Lempicka's "The Orange Scarf" (1927), because the model for the main figure of that painting reminded me strikingly of Alice. The work, oil on wood, was painted for the cover of an edition of the German fashion magazine, Die Dame; the second work de Lempicka executed for the publication (the first being her famous self portrait "Tamara in the Green Bugatti"). The association with fashion seemed a fitting motif to add to Alice's palette.

Jasper

Left to right

- Ocean Jasper (Hex: #212F1E) RGB: 33, 47, 30

- Lionet Gold (Hex: ##B1914D) RGB: 177, 145, 77

- Major Grey (Hex: #4D4E50) RGB: 77, 78, 80

- Antique Red (Hex: #7F3A34) RGB: 127, 58, 52

- Bloodred (Hex: #790802) RGB: 121, 8, 2

Blood red was the first color I thought of when I sat down to do Jasper's palette, especially after reading Midnight Sun, which is the only time you get a glimpse of Jasper in action.

The other was the murky green, which I color matched to an ocean jasper, because duh. This became my theme color for Jasper. Paired with that, also matched from the same ocean jasper I got the green from is a lionet gold, which reminded me of Jasper's being described by Bella in Twilight as "Tall and leonine".

The gray is color matched from a picture of an extant Confederate Major's frock coat, and the faded red is matched from the sash of the same.

Rosalie

- Imola Red (Hex: #FB022F) RGB: 251 G: 2 B: 47

- Claret (Hex: #530203) RGB: 83, 2, 3

- Golden Blond (Hex: #FDBB54) RGB: 253, 187, 84

- Deco White (Hex: #FDFBF9) RGB: 253, 251, 249

- Violet Blue (Hex: #3D3B81) RGB: 61, 59, 129

The first shade of rosy red here is actually color-matched to the "Imola Red" paint of Rosalie's BMW M3, and the darker claret red is matched to the lipstick in a color picture of Joan Bennett. Joan Bennett is pretty much how I imagine Rosalie. Rosalie;s style of beauty doesn't really match the beauty standards of the time in which she lived, and she doesn't match any of the iconic actresses of her time--the exception being Joan Bennett.

The blonde shade was color matched from the model in another Tamara de Lempicka work, "The Straw Hat" (1930), which depicts a beautiful blond girl with bright red lips in a straw summer hat, holding a spray of pale pink flowers.

The violet blue is Rosalie's human eye color, and it's matched from a picture of Elizabeth Taylor, who was famed for her uncommon violet eye-color, and her beauty which was commonly considered to be near-perfect.

I feel like Rosalie loves white. Her bedroom, in supplemental sources is described as a "large, white room" and white and red were popular color combinations in the Art Deco interior design of the 1930's.

Emmett

I loved doing Emmett's color palette. I'm realizing how much their backstories influence my color associations with the Cullens as I'm writing this and the same holds true for Emmett.

- Red Flannel (Hex: #CE0D02) RGB: 206, 13, 2

- Rye Whiskey (Hex: #792104) RGB: 121, 33, 4

- Smokey Mountain Green (Hex: #183F01) RGB: 24, 63, 1

- Miner's Denim (Hex: #31425C) RGB: 49, 66, 92

- Coal Dust (Hex: #292E31) RGB: 41, 46, 49

Emmett's Jeep is red of course, and he shares the association with red with his wife. But all the other colors are inspired from his origins in the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee, present in the deep forest green, the coal dust gray; and my personal favorite color matches, the red brown of rye whiskey and, the first color I thought of for Emmett after red: denim blue. This blue is color matched from extant miner's jeans from the late 20's.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now for the palletes for my OC's, Ada and Cem

Ada

Lightning (Hex: #9192D8) RGB: 145, 146, 216

Lilac Silk (Hex: #D9CCDD) RGB: 217, 204, 221

Yellow Sage (Hex: #EAF7AC) RGB: 234, 247, 172

Burnished Copper (Hex: #D48973) RGB: 212, 137, 115

Black Cherry (Hex: #310410) RGB: 49, 4, 16

So the first color here, this light lavender-gray, is frankly just my favorite color, but it's also one I think would look really good on Ada. I think it contrasts interestingly with the pinkish, burnished copper red of her hair. I color matched the purple from a picture of clouds illuminated by lightning, and the copper from a picture of copper wire. The pale sage green/yellow and lilac are color-matched from the Valentino gown I used as inspiration for Ada's prom dress.

The Black Cherry is the color of Ada's Mazda RX-8. Only the Shinka limited edition of that car came in this shade of Black Cherry, and it's a very distinctive color that I wound up moulding her whole color palette around.

Cem

Cem, Ada's mate (who she meets while abroad in Greece following the Cullen exodus from forks in New Moon), has a palette that is primarily inspired by his human life as a Janissary under Sultan Mehmed II.

- Wine-dark Sea (Hex: #280916) RGB: 40, 9, 22

- Janissary (Hex: #891A22) RGB: 137, 26, 34

- Rosewood (Hex: #63241F) RGB: 99, 36, 31

- Gray Eyes (Hex: #756660) RGB: 117, 102, 96

- Amber Gold (Hex: #AE5E02) RGB: 174, 94, 2

The purple, which is Cem's primary theme color, is matched from Phoenecian purple dye.

The red color was color-matched to period drawings of Janissaries (albeit from a century later than Cem lived). The rosewood shade is representative of Cem's hair color, which is a light brown with faint hints of red.

The gray is his human eye color (I color matched it from a picture of Turkish actor Cem Yiğit Uzumoğlu, who was a visual inspiration for Cem--I had already named Cem before I drew inspiration from the actor its just a very common Turkish name), and the dark amber-gold is the transitional shade of Cem's eyes as they turn from red to gold after joining the Cullens.

#twilight saga #twilight renaissance #edward cullen #bella swan #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #alice cullen #jasper hale #rosalie hale #emmett cullen #ada cullen #cem aydinlisoy cullen #cullen palettes

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vicious-vixxxen · 3 years

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Drabble Interest Check #1

So just a quick recap, refer to my previous post for a more in depth explanation- I wanna start sharing some drabbles I write more off of a whim, when idea’s hit me really suddenly, and I just start writing them down, and they never turn into much afterwards. But, I thought if I shared them with you guy’s, maybe they’d prompt some inspo to request more, to turn them into full fics, with a full story- as most of my drabbles spawn from me thinking of one specific scenario, and building off of it a bit until I get to a drabble length- or more, as this one is nearly 2K lol don’t ask me how, I was super into it as I was writing. Or urge me to try and and add a real start and finish to them, so put out as full fic’s myself. I also think these drabbles will give you a guys a better idea of what I like to write, what I'm willing to write, and what I'm open to writing. As my drabbles usually hit more angst and nsfw/kink notes. ‘Problematic’ or otherwise. I’ll add some notes to the end of the fic to give an idea of what I had in mind with this drabble, and go more in depth on that. But here it is, I'm actually very proud of this one, and hope to figure out how to finish it at some point. Established Enji Todoroki X Male!Reader Additionally: Natsuo Todoroki x Male!Reader angst, unrequited love (or is it? ;3))

Shuffling into the kitchen, you grimaced as the carpet turned to cold, hard tile below your feet- wrapping your arms around yourself as you did your best to stay quiet, rummaging around the Todoroki kitchen for some snacks. You’d woken up restless, your stomach growling, and after prying yourself from underneath Enji’s death grip, you’d worked up quite the appetite. The soft sizzle of pork on the stove could be heard soon enough. Not too loud, but that, alongside the soft beeping of the rice cooker, and the delicious scent of your cooking wafting across the lower levels of the house, are what woke Natsuo from a fitful sleep. Rubbing both of his eyes with his fists, Natsuo yawned. Brow lifted in question as he sniffed the air, and checked the clock. Who the hell was cooking at two in the morning?

Legs swinging off the bed, he stuffed his feet in his house shoes, and set off towards the kitchen. Yawning as he went, lifting up his shirt briefly to rub at his stomach, as he came to a stop in the kitchen doorway. The scents pouring out of it pulling a soft moan from his lips, his stomach twisting with want.

Though not just for food anymore. Not when he saw you moving swiftly around the kitchen, like you’d cooked there your whole life. Trying to be silent, but humming under your breath quietly. Clad in nothing but a pair of sleep shorts...and one of Natsuo’s fathers much larger shirts. The younger Todoroki resisted the urge to roll his eyes, ignoring the steering jealousy that raged within him, in favor of whistling lowly, catching your eye, and offering you a shake of his head, and a soft smile as he moved around the island, towards you. You had enough sense to at least look apologetic, though Natsuo quickly shrugged it off, coming around to inspect your cooking briefly, before allowing himself to be dragged into a hug by you. Something he could vaguely recall being off put by, the first time his father had introduced you to them all. Your affection. Your ability to be so close in so little time. Trusting, caring, sweet, kind. Intimate touch of any kind was something Natsuo had rejected all his life- well, when he could start rejecting it- as his own advances for comfort and touch as a child had been snuffed out quickly. Point being, it had taken him a while for him to come around to you being so...hands on, with him. Seeing you be so hands on with his siblings. It settled something, deep within himself, he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge even existed, but it helped. It helped a lot. Though now, Natsuo rationed quietly in his own mind...now maybe he took things too far. His hands slung around your waist, your arms around Natsuo’s neck- hands in his soft, white hair, face in the boy's neck, where it would usually be pressed to Enji’s chest. You and Natsuo were almost the same height, though Natsuo had you beat on mass- taking after his father already, broad shouldered: muscular. Handsome. He was going to be a fine young man some day...he already was, really. An uncomfortable flip of your stomach followed as Natsuo nuzzled into your neck- and you were quick to pull back slowly after, patting the boys chest with a smile, looking up at him through your lashes briefly, before turning to the stove to flip the cuts of pork in the pan. “Are you hungry?” You whispered, almost conspiratorially, grinning as Natsuo blushed, laughing under his breath, before nodding. “Good. Grab two bowls, it’s almost finished.” You both ate in relative silence, only your contented sighs, and Natsuo’s soft affirmations of how good the food was. As always. You even had Fuyumi beat when it came to certain dishes. Though he’d never tell his sister that. When the food was gone, and all that were left were empty plates, you lead Natsuo back to the large family room, adjacent to the kitchen, both of you taking seats on either side of the love seat/ feet tangled together under a blanket you threw over you both, before dissolving into random, half asleep conversation. Stomachs full, bodies warm, and pliable. Your eyes closed as you recalled something from your childhood- natsuo suddenly wide awake, as his eyes drifted down over your neck, counting your freckles, and blushing as His fathers shirt rode down far enough to see some of your chest hair, and the definition between your pecs. God you were handsome, Natsuo thought, consumed with the need to lean over and press his face info your chest. Rip his fathers shirt off of you, and swaddle you in one of his collegiate sweatshirts instead. It would keep you warm so much better. Plus, Natsuo thought suddenly, heatedly: you’d just look good in something of his. The icy blue of Natsuo’s color palette reflected in your eyes. God... “Natsuo?” You called across to him, snapping the younger man out of his daydreaming- a deep crimson flushing down over his pale cheeks, as the younger Todoroki averted his gaze, and rubbed at his neck. “Sorry, I just...I got...I was somewhere else, for a moment. I apologize.” Natsuo finally stuttered out gruffly, staring off at the corner of the wall, trying to calm his thoughts. But they were swarming now, insistent, /fiery/, burning up his chest, and his mind. “It’s alright, I-“ “why-“ Natsuo caught himself, biting his tongue as he cut you off, feeling embarrassed. You paused, smiling and shaking your head as you motioned for the man to continue.

“....why are you with my father?” Natsuo finally asked. Voice soft, hesitant. But firm enough that it was clear he was demanding an answer this time. Because he’d asked this very same question just weeks after first meeting you. When you’d fixed the young man with a knowing gaze, rested a hand on his chest, and simply said “because I like him”. Natsuo couldn’t fathom anyone so much as tolerating his father, let alone liking him. So it was a bit jarring, to say the least. “Do we really have to go over this again?” Ah, Natsuo thought. So you remembered that too. “My father could live a thousand lives atoning for what he’s done, and it would never be enough to deserve someone like you,” Natsuo said, voice heavier now, a little louder, breaking the quiet space you’d created there on the sofa together. Gaze directly on you now. Your eyes. Your gorgeous eyes that looked at his father with such admiration, that it made Natsuo ill sometimes to bear witness to it. “You are not the sole keeper of your fathers misgivings, Natsuo. He hasn’t just hurt you. Whether you choose to see and actively acknowledge the man he’s trying to become, is on you, and I won’t force your hand or try and tell you how you should feel. But don’t question my love for your father, because it’s just that: mine.” You matched the young man's tone, voice even, and soft, yet affirmative- leaving no room for argument. Though Natsuo seemed to want to test that. “So you love the old man then, huh? You really love him?” Natsuo urged, sitting up suddenly, much closer now as you stared. “Not that it is any of your business, but yes, Natsuo, yes. I’m in love with your father, and I see myself living a long and happy life with him. Getting married, settling down, having-“ “having what? Kids?!” Natsuo questioned, eyes wide as he stared at you. You paused, wondering if this was a conversation you should be having with Enji at your side. Natsuo was sweet, and soft spoken- when it was with anyone who wasn’t his father, that is, since that usually resulted in a shouting match between the two. Now though, he was feeling combative apparently- questioning your decisions, which you didn’t appreciate in the slightest. “Please tell me you’re not stupid enough to want to have /children/ with that man?” Natsuo urged, half desperate, half pleading, as he sat up on his knees, nearly towering over you now as you looked down on you. “Watch. Your. Tone.” You warned him, sitting up so you were on even level again, noses nearly brushing as you did so. “Your father may put up with your snippy, accusatory remarks because he thinks allowing you to walk over him will somehow bring you two closer together, but I sure as fuck won’t.” Your cursing nearly made Natsuo flinch out of pure guilt, but he stood his ground. “You’re fooling yourself if you think he’d be any different with your kids. Look at how we turned out! Is that what you want for your own children? A childhood of solicitude and abuse, to feel unwanted, and uncared for? To wonder every night when they go to bed why their father doesn’t love them?! Is that what you want!” Natsuo was shouting now, panic rising in his throat, and you suddenly felt wholly unprepared for this conversation. “I’ll be damned if I allow that sorry excuse of a man and a father, to think about bringing up new children. Robbing you of your chance to have a real partner by your side. Someone to help you care for, and love your children. You...you deserve so much better than him, I don’t understand.” Natsuo was holding back tears now, chest heaving as he breathed, and you couldn’t take it. Gathering him up in your arms, you brought the man in for a tight hug. Cradling him in, and rubbing his back as he began to cry, mumbling nonsense into your neck as you just held him, and closed your eyes, willing back your own tears as you bared witness to something for the first time: the result of Enji’s fathering. Or, your brain offered up weakly: the lack thereof. Even more so...his abuse. Here you were, experiencing the aftermath first hand, and it made your heart hurt so deeply, and your mind race. You wanted to beat the shit out of Enji for doing this to Natsuo, but what could be done about it now? Enji was trying, he was trying so hard every day. But Natsuo was clinging to his hate, and his anger, and his fears, and who were you to tell him he should let them go? At least this way, you rationalized, you could be there for him when they became too much. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Im sorry,” you whispered into his hair, raking your fingers through it as Natsuo shuddered through another sob, and shook his head in your chest. “I'm so sorry, Natsuo. I’m so, so sorry.” He mumbled something then, body tense, refusing to be pulled back to see your face, even as you tried. “What?” You asked quietly, tilting your head to hear him better. “Do you love /us/?” ‘Me’. Do you love me he’d asked first, you realized, and your heart beat sped up as you did your best to squeeze Natsuo impossibly tighter- head in his hair as you nodded. “I love you all so much. Fuyumi, Shoto. I have love for your mother, and for Toya. And I love you, Natsuo, I love you so much. I’m honored to be able to call you my family now. I do love you,” you reassured him, shushing him quietly through a new set of sobs, before tensing when Natsuo suddenly sat up, hot breath and humid, tear stains cheeks ghosting across your face as icy grey eyes met yours. He was nearly panting with the effort to stop his crying, clearly looking for something as he stared at you, before he was leaning forward and smashing your lips together in a heated, desperate kiss.

thus concludes the drabble, now on to the end notes lol

So yeah, that’s it lol, lemme know what you guys think? The plan for this originally was to have some sort of double todoroki x male!reader endgame, where he’d end up with both Enji and Natsuo, by some means. Though not without a fair bit more angst thrown in. Arguments, fighting, etc etc. But I did wanna have them all three be endgame someway or another. Which, yes, would include incest. Whether direct or indirect, cuz one could make the argument they’re sort of just dating the same person, which is also fine- cuz it’s adorable to me, but they’d all be fucking at some point, even if most of the attention is solely on the male reader, it would happen. That’s part of the big reason I wanna do this drabble interest checks, because they give you a glimpse into my problematic mind, and you can decide for yourselves if you wanna stick around and be a part of it, or leave. Not to say poly relationships are problematic in the slightest, of course- I adore poly ships, and hope to write some in the future- but incest? Boy howdy. But I love it sksksk >;3 So lemme know what you guy’s think of this fic! If you want to see it continued, if so, how so? Feel free to ask me anon or otherwise about kink and dynamics, sfw or nsfw, if you’d like too. I’m gonna make an updated kink list with kinks I will be writing about eventually, so you can decide to stick around and see them, or show yourself out so they don’t bother you. My space is mine, so I will not be responding to, or entertaining people who want to be upset about them, or disagree with my tastes. It’ll get you nowhere, telling you right now. But yeah. Lemme know guys. <3 Vixen

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postmodernbeing · 3 years

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Shingeki no Kyojin Headcanons: 104th training corps (College AU - Outfits pt II)

Part I | College AU HCs

Part II of the outfits/aesthetics headcanons - College AU that would (kinda) be included in the oneshot I'm working on.

IMPORTANT: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin nor the trend of this outfits-displays, only this HCs belong to me. // Contains spoilers (for the icons that I used in some characters) // English is not my first language, so I ask for your patience and understanding.

Historia Reiss

She has a huge wardrobe and so well organized by color, textures, and sizes. From halter tops to maxi dresses, our queen really dresses like one.

Forever in love with skirts and dresses with patterns and/or pastel colors. But don’t get confused, girl has range.

So, one could see her wearing monochromatic ensembles one day and the other, she’s all dressed up with some bright color pieces matching a patterned shirt.

Also owns a vast collection of jewelry and accessories both original and classy. And let’s not forget the shoes: sneakers, heels, boots, sandals and cute little anklets to match. I swear she can make crocs look boujee.

Contrary to what people think, she doesn’t support fast fashion industry. Aware of her privilege, she knows she has the money and time to buy from small businesses and keep herself trendy.

Last but not least, and kind of clothing related: Historia loves taking Ymir to thrift shopping dates and later go eating at some indie cafeteria. The lifestyle is also part of the outfit, alright?

Ymir

Her wardrobe consists in comfortable clothes and not giving a fuck. All her clothes give Rockstar lesbian vibes (stan this queen). Her designated color palette is based on dark shades, so it’s a real contrast between her outfits and Historia’s.

Loves combat boots and her wasted Converse TM, although her favorite pieces from her apparel are bomber jackets, coats, sweaters, and hoodies.

Ymir also wears a fair amount of stainless-steel accessories, mostly chunky rings and chains. Moreover, is common to find her listening to music, therefore, earphones are a fashion statement really.

Speaking about must-wear, this girl likes to paint her nails black but due her anxiety she tends to scratch the painting off so it gives this grunge look (don’t romanticize this fellas).

Historia would suggest her some trends or give her advice about color, but being honest, Ymir has a very well-defined style at this point.

Now, about her dress style: She won’t dress like a metalhead nor grunge (at least not intentionally). And she wouldn’t define her style as dark, it’s just what it is.

Reiner Braun

He wears lots of denim in jackets and jeans but also owns a couple of dress pants that combines with beanies or simple caps. Also, has plenty of plain simple shirts that fit his strong body.

Reiner usually wears opaque shades of all colors. Another fact, he’s not a big fan of patterns unless we’re talking about sweaters. He also wears jackets yet avoids cardigans and hoodies.

A very important thing to know, Reiner has a lot of gym clothes, he works out daily so don’t be surprised.

Most of those clothes are joggers, pants, shorts, and t-shirts that look as if he ripped them off or something.

Actually, a lot of his clothes look like they’re about to be ripped apart due his huge ass pectorals (please, Reiner, let me rest gently on your pecs). Just kidding, his whole wardrobe fits him perfectly.

Finally, if Reiner had to define his style in a sentence, he’d probably acknowledge that he gives the impression of a rich a-hole, but really, Rei just likes to be comfortable and presentable at all times. So, rich white guy it is for now.

Bertolt Hoover

Bertie is that one friend that always carries a cardigan or sweater just in case, also because he tends to lend his clothes if a friend of his is in need. So thoughtful, our big baby.

His wardrobe is amazingly well organized, and its color palette is unmatched. Lots of blue, brown, beige, white and black.

We know he’s tall enough to call everybody’s attention every time he enters a room. And being as shy as he can be, he avoids brilliant colors or striking pieces. Instead, he chooses simpler outfits.

Bertolt follows this formula every time: pants, shirt, sweater. Everything clean and discrete.

Now if we must talk about his shoes, Berts prefers some white sneakers or modest dress shoes. He wouldn’t say he owns a vast collection, rather, he keeps a fair amount for different occasions.

No tattoos nor piercings. Speaking of which, it’s so rare to see him wearing any accessories at all. Maybe he'll carry with him an analogical clock, and that's it. Although if someone gave him a friendship bracelet you can be sure he'll wear it all-the-time.

Annie Leonhart

Lots of denim for her jackets and jeans. Hoodies, bands merch and graphic t-shirts.

Her clothes’ color palette has range but nothing too pastel or colorful. Instead, she gets all the opaque version of the pieces she likes.

Not that Annie hates dresses or skirts, it’s just unusual for her to even think about wearing them. She prioritizes being comfortable, and tight/short clothes can’t provide her that feeling.

Hates slim clothes unless it’s a tank top or something similar. She just prefers oversized hoodies and mom jeans. Also, if Annie can avoid skinny pants, you can be sure she will.

Owns a fair amount of gym clothes because she also likes to train but most of the times, you’ll see her running around campus, really. She’s a simple woman with simple pleasures.

Annie is the personification of ‘looks like she could kill you, is an actual cinnamon roll’, from her attitude to her clothes. So beware, for she’s the queen of looking rude with her chains around her belt, and her ring to match but don't let her fool- holy shit, that thing can actually stab someone. As I was mentioning, such a sweet gal, isn’t she?

Hitch Dreyse

She can make it boujee with so little effort (and money), lemme tell you. Wears her clothes with such an attitude and class. Hitch's an actual wine-mom, or aunt maybe? she gives those vibes.

People have the impression from her style, that her parents are rich, but nothing could be further from the truth. It’s just that Hitch knows how to dress. (Also, we know that for a fact sis has a scholarship, okay?) ANYWAYS,

Miss here is forever in love with white and baby blue. Owns plenty of jeans but also dress pants and culottes that wears with blazers or shirts that make her look like a princess with a diversity of fabrics such as satin, silk-alike texture, and cotton.

Hitch is the queen of heels. Although she hates very high ones, she rocks shorter heels and walks in them with little to no effort. Or at least looks like it. All of her shoes are classy yet unique.

Now, let’s talk about her collection of accessories. Hitch likes her jewels in gold and only buys signature pieces: rings, earrings (for her four lobe perforations, two in each ear) and necklaces, of course. Yes, it is gold but in modest designs. Sounds fair, right?

Marlowe Freudenberg

Our big boy in here thinks that he should look presentable at all times since he’s the Chief Editor of the History student’s academic journal at Paradis’ Uni. Not that he cares a lot of his appearance, really.

And that’s actually cute because he puts effort into his outfits. Marlowe would be one of those straight guys that are hygienic and know how to dress and has no fragile masculinity.

Cologne is a must and part of his attire just like handkerchiefs are, because at the same time, he was raised to be the classic gentleman TM.

Marlowe dresses in all colors; he can’t choose a favorite one or a never-changing palette. He’s aware of season colors too and plays that at his wardrobe favor.

Yet for his outfits he’d follow few simple rules: oxfords (cleaned), dress pants (somewhere between slim fit and straight leg), some polo/dress shirt/cotton thing-y for top and a sweater / cardigan / blazer if season demands it.

Finally, our favorite student-editor spends some time of his routine shaving his face and styling his hair, albeit wouldn’t consider himself a vain guy nor full of himself. Lowkey expects Hitch to notice his appearance. Such a sweetheart.

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sukiglycerin · 4 years

Text

starless fairy tales || keigo takami, katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x reader x katsuki bakugou (gender neutral!)

* genre: it’s a sandwich: angst on the top, fluff in the middle, and angst at the end :) not fantasy DLKFSF IM SORRY

* words: 5.2k, somehow

* warnings: angsty, reader is wary of hawks at first, tokyo skytree!! so don’t read if you’re terribly afraid of heights, a reference to blood for a small metaphor, a reference to the league of villains ;P, cliffhanger ending that i’m not sure i’ll resolve

* original request from @bien-sur: hey, saw you wanted requests and I read through some of your work, really loved the Hawks one shot!! i’m a sucker for enemies who make out. i’m feeling angsty so uh maybe, if you want, a bakugo one-shot where he kind of uh cheats on the reader...? or maybe just hurts her feelings very badly? maybe the reader feels numb for a while but is comforted by Keigo, and the reader realizes they deserve better? so sorry if this is out of your comfort zone or it’s dark content(?) anyways I like your writing so i’ll read a few more of your works before going to bed :)) thank you, i appreciate u taking the time to do requests regardless of whether you do mine :)

* a/n: ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS SUPERIOR!! i was so excited to write an enemies piece with hawks. this showcases the soft, kind side of hawks so i hope you enjoy it !! thank you sooo much for being so kind in your request! this request is completely fine. i added much more plot than i’d expected, and learned sooo much about tokyo skytree. i couldn’t do infidelity because it hurts me too much and i love bakugou too much. i tried to keep the angst.,., but happy birb..,., this might become a multi-chap fic, as i do have a plot jumbled in my head because of the cliffhanger, and i’d like to develop more aspects of your request! for now, it’s up to your interpretation! biggest thing i got out of this: i now really, really want to go to tokyo skytree.

* synopsis: you had a fairy tale love with bakugou until your prince became the villain for vague reasons. in a moment of serendipity, you find a new prince, hawks, who just might take you high enough to reach the stars you’d so longed for. sometimes your dreams are only a train ride and a couple elevator trips away.

love was like a fairy tale. at least, that’s what you’d believed. love, with its ornate leather cover and soft golden embellishments. the pages would be worn but so cherished; the black ink printed in a pretty font, telling of charming words and whispered promises under the shining moonlight and twinkling stars. it was supposed to be your security, a castle hidden in the lush forest away from the horrors of the world. your castle would hold you and bakugou for an eternity, kept away in the pages of a pretty love story.

alas, even the strongest of castles fall, and the most beautiful of forests mangle. yours just happened to be a bit quicker. contrary to the illusion bakugou had painted in your fairy tale, your castle was not of stone nor brick nor iron. it was not of anything but sand, waiting for its turn to be washed away by the sea. your castle slipped through your fingers; the once elaborate stronghold now swept into the depths of the cerulean sea. what had once been painted seashells of wondrous hues and crystals that illuminated the night were now pebbles and corroded versions of things that had once been. it had slipped through your fingers so easily without a passing thought; now here you were, in your deserted kingdom, playing the fool.

like the sand past your fingers, love had once come easy for you and bakugou. it was always there, drifting in the air as you walked or swirling above your heads while you bickered. love was supposed to be easy, like how your hand just fit in bakugou's as if sculpted after many lives with him. love was supposed to be easy, like how bakugou aced his tests in school and nonchalantly taught you math so you wouldn't have to attend cram school. love was supposed to be easy, like how it had been for forever with bakugou. but your fairy tale was now coming to a close, velvet curtains falling and pages turning to dust.

you wondered if there were any fairy tales on the shelves of books bakugou had. contrary to popular belief at ua, bakugou was an avid reader. it was clear by the shelves that lined the wall in his dorm and the stacks of unread books on his nightstand. you never touched them, though bakugou had said you were free to pick them up whenever you wanted. the only time you’d touched a book from his bookshelf was when he pushed a book of yosano akiko’s to you.

the colored spines of the books on his shelf in your shared apartment all blurred like paint on a palette as you stared at them, bakugou’s voice becoming a fading afterthought.

“y/n? y/n, please…” the voice which had so held you in its tight warmth went cold and unfamiliar. a light flickered out in your castle, and so started the crumbling.

“say…” you started, your throat clogged with disbelief, “it again.”

“please, don’t make me…” his voice trailed off. you could feel his deep scarlet eyes trained on you. “i just…. i’m not in love with you anymore, y/n.” his voice cracked. “you’ve got to understand. please.”

your hand trembled in your lap, your vision shifting out of focus like a faulty camera.

“i tried to feel something, i really did. but…. i can’t.”

“how- how long?” your voice shook.

he paused. “a month… or two, by now?” he reached out to take your hand in his, but it no longer felt right. it was as if his hand was no longer yours to hold. you tensed, moving your hand away.

a light went out in his eyes as he understood and receded his hand. a tower fell in your castle.

“okay,” you said, turning away from him. tears dripped down your face silently and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve. you stood up from the couch. “i’ll get my things,” you hollowly said, walking toward your shared room with him.

“you don’t need to,” bakugou said. the voice emitted from his throat was no longer his, but the shadow of a stranger’s. “not this fast, at least. don’t force yourself.”

“what makes you say that?” you snapped a bit too harshly. “sorry,” you added quietly.

packing your things was a numbing process. you left the photos of him and you on his nightstand, on top of his pile of unread books. you shoved it all in a backpack you had lying around; your clothes, your phone, your books. you took one last glance around the room and left. bakugou was still sitting on the couch wordlessly, not bothering to say farewell to you as you opened the door and walked out. not that you would’ve responded anyway.

you realized you may have made a miscalculation as you stood cluelessly in the lobby of the apartment building. you had nowhere to go. you fumbled with your phone in your backpack and pulled up your contacts. you knew of no one in your contacts who’d let you stay; they were either on vacation or far away. in truth, bakugou was your closest friend since childhood. he was your map, your guide, your destination; where were you without him?

the wind brushed your cheek as you stood outside the entrance, watching cars pass. the world felt so big compared to the mere side character of you, who buildings loomed over like menacing shadows. it was a somewhat comforting moment, being an alone speck in the grand scheme of things. like this, it was for only a moment you’d forgotten why you were out here in the first place. you’d forgotten the warm feeling that once nestled itself in your heart, instead enraptured by the freeing breeze that rustled in it.

red. then a breeze. that’s all you saw, eyes widening and stepping back. a man no older than you stood in front of you, hands in his pockets. vermillion wings protruded from somewhere on his back, arcing slightly over the man.

“heyyy….” he said lazily, shadows falling on his face. you started walking backward, hands discreetly feeling for the door behind you. “wait! i’m a pro-hero, i swear! i’m hawks, look it up!” he lifted his hands up in surrender, backing away from you.

“who…. what do you want?” you asked cautiously, hand on the doorknob behind you.

he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. “i, uh…. got lost…. tokyo’s such a big place, y’know?”

“where are you from?” you couldn’t really discern anything of an accent on him, other than a slightly rougher tone of speaking.

“kyushu, fukuoka…” he gestured vaguely. that explained the slight accent. “i’m in tokyo for a bit of work. business trip, y’know how it goes. haven’t visited tokyo in a while, honestly. what’s a good place for a bite? a bird is starving.”

“uh… there’s a place down the street to the right…” off the top of your head, you pointed out a cafe you and bakugou had frequented.

“it doesn’t have chicken wings, does it?” hawks asked.

“chicken…?” you looked from him to his wings. “no, sorry.”

“don’t sweat it! ‘s fine. hey, i might as well treat you for wasting your time. where’re you heading off to? i could pay for a cab, if you gotta go.”

“ah, thank you....” you said bashfully. “i’m not really in a rush anywhere.”

“really?” he looked excited, innocently so, almost like a puppy. “can i treat you to something?”

“uh… sure,” you replied, strengthening your grip on your backpack. “sure.”

“great! off we go, m’liege!” he pointed toward the cafe and started marching. he was a sight to behold on the street, red wings standing out a mile away. you followed somewhat reluctantly, grabbing your phone to google exactly who the pro-hero “hawks” was. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but you weren’t one who knew their heroes. yeah, it was definitely him; what was your luck, meeting such a famous pro-hero on the street after being dumped by the love of your life?

he hummed a tuneless melody, turning to the cafe. he held the doorknob waiting for you, opening the door for you first. the homey cafe was decently packed for lunchtime, the quiet chatter of people filling the atmosphere. the scene reminded you of so many other times you'd gone here with bakugou; it gave you chills as you stood next to hawks.

"hey," hawks said quietly. "you okay? you seem tense."

you gulped and shook your head. "nah, i'm fine. just thinking about what to eat," you lied.

he nodded, seeming to buy into the lie. stepping toward the menu, he said, "the toasted sandwiches look good."

"uh huh," you agreed absentmindedly. your attention was on the bout of people who'd turned to look at hawks, some snapping pictures on their phones. he did stand out pretty well with his wings.

"'scuse me-!" a little girl, no more than 6 or 7, approached the hero. she had a distinctive accent; it was slightly hard to understand her. "can i 'ave a photo with ya?" her eyes got all round. "yer my big brother's favorite hero!"

"'course, darlin'," hawks smiled. his voice somewhat mimicked hers, his dialect becoming apparent.

once he'd taken a photo with her, more and more people started following suit, crowding him. you stood awkwardly to the side. some people didn't even know who he was, from what you could tell. you debated ordering a latte and leaving, but decided it'd be unfair to hawks. he was kind to everyone he interacted with, unlike most celebrities who just wanted fame and disregarded others.

after some time, the crowd finally dispersed, leaving you and hawks together.

he glanced at his watch. “ah, sorry, that took a while…” he apologized. “do you have somewhere to be? i must’ve held you up…”

“nah, don’t worry about it.” you waved him off. “i, uh, actually… was just dumped by my boyfriend…” you nervously shuffled your feet. “i don’t really have a place to stay at the moment… so i’m free the entire day, i guess.” you laughed nervously.

he blinked at you, bird-like eyes wide. “you must be starving.”

you felt your face warm and you laughed - this time, a real, genuine laugh that was a missed sensation against your tongue. “yeah. yeah, i am.”

“hey, dove.” his voice suddenly got close to you, gentler. “you’re crying.”

“oh…?” you felt your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “sorry. i have tissues in my backpack, hang on…” you unzipped the front pocket and started to rummage blindly through your belongings, groping for something vaguely feeling like a packet of tissues.

“here,” he said, handing you a tissue. you turned to him gratefully, accepting the tissue and wiping your face.

“it’s just… weird,” you said after a pause. “he’s been there all my life - my ex, i mean.” ex. such a strange name for the man you so adored; ex, crossing off the relationship you thought you’d built with him.

hawks nodded, guiding you to a booth in the cafe.

you continued, “sorry. you probably didn’t want to hear this today… you’re busy with your hero duties and whatnot.”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, feather,” he reassured you. “he didn’t kick you out, did he?”

“oh, no,” you clarified quickly. “i… left,” you said, abashed. “i shouldn’t’ve been so sudden, but… it was an instinct thing.”

“why’d he do it so suddenly?” hawks asked. “you didn’t see it coming, right?”

“no, i didn’t… but maybe i should’ve…” you think about the part couple months with bakugou. nothing seemed different - you’d gone on dates like normal and spent time together like a couple that loved each other. his interest in you never faltered and nor did the sparkle in his eyes dull; what had happened? what had gone so wrong?

you realize the silence that’s fallen between you and hawks. the hero was looking at the menu behind you intently.

“ham and cheese…” he muttered to himself. “no, teriyaki… so yummy… with coffee…” he suddenly seemed aware of your eyes staring at him. “oh, what did you want to eat?”

“i’ll probably have the teriyaki,” you said. it was your go-to sandwich choice at the cafe. you reached for your backpack to retrieve your wallet, but hawks stopped you.

“let me,” he said. “i already caused you so much inconvenience.”

“ah, okay…” you said meekly. “thank you.”

he shrugged. “what wouldja like to drink?”

“uh… orange juice,” you said.

“alright!” he saluted you. “your wish is my command.” he got up to order, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. the cashier was particularly animated talking to him, initiating a conversation about aerodynamics with the pro-hero from what you could hear.

he returned with the sandwiches (made at the fastest time you swore you’d seen them prepare food) and set yours in front of you.

“let’s dig in!” hawks said, biting into his sandwich. you agreed, taking a bite of yours as well.

“what’s your name, by the way?” he said in between bites. “i don’t think i ever asked.”

“y/n,” you said.

“pretty,” he commented. “i’m hawks.”

“i know,” you blurted. “i googled it.”

“you did?” his pupils widened. “what’d it say??”

“uhh…” you pulled out your phone, finding the tab you used to google hawks. you turned your screen to him.

he studied the screen. “not fond of that angle,” he mused to himself. “so, why’d your boyfriend dump you?”

you were taken aback by his candor. “he… said he didn’t love me anymore,” you admitted.

“all of a sudden? out of the blue?”

you shook your head. “he said he’d tried to endure it for a while.”

“how long?”

“a month or two,” you sighed, thinking about the sight of him sitting dejectedly on the couch this morning.

“he didn’t say anything before that?” hawks gasped. “the nerve. how long have you been together?”

“four… or five years now?” you’d been dating him since your days at ua, even when most high school romances - between childhood friends, no less - were especially rocky. he was your promised forever.

“and he gives up after two months?” hawks set his sandwich down. “wow. some boyfriend.”

“i think there was something more to it,” you said thoughtfully. “we’ve known each other for a long…”

“you still love him, don’t you?”

“i mean… yeah….” you hadn’t given it much thought; bakugou was a habit your heart couldn’t stop thinking about. it was like depriving your heart of oxygen: foreign and wrong. “i do.”

“i’m sorry, dove,” he said.

“your sandwich will get cold,” you said in an attempt to divert the conversation topic.

“you’re right.” he picked up his sandwich and started eating again, eyes still on you. “this place has good food.”

you hummed in agreement, distracted by the cars going by outside the window.

“where will you stay?” he asked, halfway done with his sandwich.

hawks voiced the concern plaguing your subconscious from the moment you stepped out of bakugou’s apartment building. it was definitely not the most thoroughly well-thought out plan, and you didn’t want to come back knocking on his door in the night. besides, you weren’t sure if you could stand being there again, in the presence of a liar and someone who felt so foreign to you. you wondered how much you truly didn’t know about bakugou; were there any other lies he’d blossomed behind your back?

you knew you might be able to stay at a hotel for a couple nights, but not for long. going back to bakugou’s place… as much as you so dreaded the mere thought, you knew it might be your absolute last resort.

“i’m not sure,” you finally replied truthfully. hawks appeared to have come to a conclusion of sorts.

“tell ya what,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “explore tokyo with me.” he took a bite of his sandwich. continuing, he said, “‘s not often the commission puts me in the big city. i’m off today, so…”

the offer was somewhat bizarre, but what did you have to lose? you agreed, under the terms you wouldn’t be out too late. as you walked out the door, you greeted the cool outside breeze with the hope this would help you put the past behind you.

walking through tokyo with a pro-hero proved harder than it sounded. for one, people kept approaching hawks; after all, he was like a walking light-up sign that said “LOOK AT ME!” with the size and color of his wings. after every time a fan asked hawks for an autograph, he sheepishly apologized to you, and offered two autographs to you. you always laughed and declined; the trip was a reward in itself, you supposed. each acquaintance made you appreciate all the responsibilities of a pro-hero. he was charming, though. he really was, so you didn’t mind.

“skytree! let’s go there!” was the first thing hawks had said walking out of the cafe. you’d been to the skytree a couple of times in your childhood, and it was a nice memory; the tall building stretching, touching the tip of the sky. your parents had told you that stardust flecked the very top of the skytree, for it was so tall. you’d never actually reached the highest floor; it felt like a distant fantasy, as you’d always get tired before reaching the top or circumstance would interfere.

it was a five minute walk to the nearest station, and it’d be another forty or so to skytree. hawks didn’t seem to mind, though, happily promenading down the street like a kid in a candy shop. he pointed excitedly to random buildings that you hadn’t given a second thought about and rambled about the facts he knew about skytree with an accent tingeing his words more than usual. he reminded you very much so of a child going on a field trip, and his giddiness only boosted yours.

“we’re here!” his eyes glistened with anticipation when you reached the station. you’d visited the station dozens of times, but looked at it with a new light when you realized how excited hawks was. “i’ll pay; i dragged you here,” he said immediately when you started to pay for tickets.

“really, i can’t-” you started, but he cut you off.

“let me. it’s my off day! please.” he took the two tickets he paid for. “here.”

“i don’t really have a choice, do i?”

“nope!” he was already walking away, smiling back at you and waving his ticket.

“hey- wait!” you started running after him. “wrong way!”

forty minutes later, two transfers, and one circle around the station in pursuit of skytree, you stood at the entrance of the tokyo skytree. hawks’ mouth watered at the sight of the line of restaurants in the breezeway you’d passed prior, and you had to stop him from ordering the seasonal special from mcdonald’s before turning to skytree.

“but you just ate!” you exclaimed as he stared longingly at the ice cream being advertised on a poster.

he pouted. “but i’m hungry…”

you took his hand (which momentarily shocked him) and guided him to the entrance. it was a bit crowded, but not overtly so. hawks was looking everywhere once you’d entered; darting from here to there, sometimes carrying small souvenirs or drinks when returning to you. you were out of energy by the time you’d reached floor 340, though hawks told you there were only 29 floors total and the name was referencing the height. it certainly didn’t feel like an exaggeration, your feet dragging on the ground as you stepped out of the oddly fast elevator.

you begged hawks to let you rest at the cafe you saw. the cafe felt like a little oasis of tranquility, uncrowded on contrary to the other floors. it was relaxing as you stared outside the window and up at the sky. it brought you to your parents words of stars and magic, though something as modern as the skytree must be strange to intermingle with magic. in the moment you were suspended; the still sky surrounding you and the ever-moving cars below. you swore you could just reach the clouds in front of you and float, so serenely in an eternal bubble of quietude to yourself. everything else was forgotten in that moment; things were the way they always were. it was always you, in the end.

after leaving the cafe, you watched people stand on glass flooring overlooking everything below. some jumped on the glass, while some frightenedly stuck a foot on the glass and jumped back.

“quite the view, huh?” hawks mumbled with a mouth stuffed full with chocolate cake. “i usually have to fly so far to get this view.”

you nodded. “it’s amazing...”

“so… where d’you wanna go after this?” he asked you.

“actually…” your thoughts went back to the stories your parents told you. “can we go up to floor 455?”

he showed a hint of surprise on his face. “really? i know we bought the tickets to do it, but if you’re tired, we can just go down.”

“no…” you cleared your throat. “it’s been something i really wanted to do.”

he took this answer and smiled, grasping your hand. “let’s walk into the sky!”

the train ride back did not go as smoothly as you hoped. the adrenaline of being 450 meters in the air had worn itself out, and the pitting realization that bakugou was no longer yours dawned on you. the sapphire sky in your fairy tale story seemed so far now, stars shattering and crumbling. you reached for a piece of a star, but each piece dissolved above your head, light that would never reach you.

“feather,” hawks said quietly. the intense look in his eyes looked like he was building up to something important.

“yeah?” you asked. you fixated on him.

“do you want… a badtz-maru eraser?”

you stared at the spiky-haired penguin in the palm of hawks’ hand.

“sure…?” you said. hawks happily plopped the eraser into your hand.

“feather,” he said again in the same tone. “you should visit bakugou, you know. tonight, to make things straight with him.”

that was what he was building up to. bakugou. you hadn’t dwelled much on the thought of the man; the skytree filling most of your thoughts for the day. but it was still light out.

“i know,” you replied softly, looking down at your fingers. these were the hands that held your heart as you gave it to bakugou, the hands that bakugou held tenderly for so many days and nights. they were the same hands that held your heart now, returned by bakugou shattered and clinking to the ground. the rest of the train ride was silent.

you could now hear your thoughts echoing around the train compartment, deflecting off walls and still making their way to your heart. you wondered what words were left unsaid by bakugou, painful truths untold hidden in the recesses of his heart. you wondered if he remembered how he’d first nervously asked you on a date in high school, words rough but fingers softly fidgeting with each other. it was in may, near the end of the day. he shoved a small box of chocolates towards you, muttering something about “weird hair” making him do it. he’d aggressively stuttered his way through a confession, barely making eye contact with you. the memory brought a fluttering to your heart, but with it came a sore pain for the first time. you wondered if he felt the same or if he was just numb, like how he now felt about you. what did it feel like to fall out of love?

you wondered if he remembered the many times he’d walked you home (only for your sake, of course, not anything else). you wondered if he remembered how fondly he looked at you then. his heart was on his sleeve during those times, the perpetual blush on his cheeks disclosing his very vulnerable feelings towards you.

even on the most draining of days, bakugou would always be there for you. even if his eyelids were closing upon their own accord and legs were sore from a day’s work, he made it a point to be there for you. while children might’ve had their security blankets, you had bakugou. your heart dropped realizing those days of coming home to bakugou were gone.

what had happened? now, you were alone on a train that felt so cold and without the love that had so warmed your heart. why had things ended up like this? why did you numb bakugou’s feelings so? the wave was slow at first, but once it had reached the shore, your tears fell hot and unyielding as you toppled off the edge of being okay.

hawks was by your side wordlessly, a wing around you and leaning you close to him. the feathers were soft. you cried unabashedly in his embrace, sniffling as he soothed you. you tried to say thank you, but all that came out was another sob.

your feet, on instinct, took you to bakugou's apartment without any problem. it could’ve been any other day; you, coming back to the apartment after running errands. it was your hand that hesitated as it hovered an inch away from the wood of the door, the only sign that something had changed. you liked to pretend it hadn’t. you wished that when you’d open the door, you’d hear a light chatter from the tv and a familiar voice saying, “welcome home, idiot.” you wished that the air that enveloped you as soon as you opened the door was that of liveliness and comfort, of warm orange and yellow hues. you wished that the atmosphere didn’t feel so dead, dull, and musty; you wish it hadn’t drowned in shades of blue and gray. you wished you didn’t have the key to the apartment still.

you wished that bakugou would say something, anything, rather than sit on the couch with his head bowed. you wished that you didn’t miss him so much and that you had him, all at the same time. you wished you turned back as soon as you heard the knob click and pushed open the door; you wished not to see all that you had in what was once your apartment.

you wished you didn’t revel in his presence next to you on the couch. you wished you didn’t almost lean into his touch because he was your home, and you wished your eyes didn’t well up the way they had. you wished to have sat in that silence for a while then up and gone; you wished he hadn’t said anything at all.

“hey, idiot,” was a cracky and raspy thing coming out of his mouth, words familiar but so foreign at the same time.

“hey,” was what you whispered back, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“where’d you go?” but it wasn’t a question, just a fragile plea devoid of hope.

“skytree,” and you felt you’d break the mood.

“did you reach the top?” his response surprised and killed you at the same time.

“yeah,” you said quietly. “i did.”

“alone?”

“i could never alone.”

“who…?”

“met a pro-hero by chance.”

“your true hero, huh?” it was a bitter tone, venom biting you.

“no,” and your heart sunk because it was the truth.

he scoffed. getting up from the couch, he said, “you forgot something.”

your eyes followed him as he disappeared into your once shared room. he returned quite fast, as if you’d left it on the dresser, carrying a decorated shoebox. you’d almost forgotten about it entirely, eyes wide as nostalgia hit you.

it was a memory box you’d made the last year of high school. it was supposed to be for school memories, but it really just became a box of mementos of bakugou. you could barely see the contents inside, too busy trying to hold back the tears in your eyes. you thumbed through photos and polaroids of you and him, some with his friends and some with yours. oh, what you’d give to have those times back. though it was all blurred, you could feel the moments so vividly: feel the cool summer breeze and hear the sound of people conversing with each other at a festival; hear mina’s excited ramblings and bakugou’s grumbling at the supermarket; smell caramel and vanilla at a movie night, pressed against bakugou’s body warmth. you dropped the photos back into the box and picked up a scorched pencil. a pressed rose. a neatly folded sheet of notes you’d sent back and forth with bakugou during class.

and then it was all gone, shutting the box.

“keep it.” you regretted the words as soon as they left your lips, but you wouldn’t take them back. you handed him the box, staring at the floor and wiping your wet eyes. the memories were no longer yours to keep.

bakugou was silent, taking the box and leaving to his room to put it away.

“is that all?” you tried to make your voice sound strong, impatient. like you had better places to be without him. you hoped he couldn’t tell how it was more of a beg to stay.

“yeah.” cold. emotionless.

you stood for another second, looking around. everything seemed different, as if the glass which surrounded your universe had shattered. “bye, katsuki.”

“bye.”

your footsteps were light, but each step felt weighed by metal weights. you wished he stopped you from leaving. you wished you looked back at him. you wished you weren’t crying.

you shut the door quietly, weakly, behind you. it all came out in the hallway, tears and desperate sobs. you prayed he couldn’t hear you; but you knew, even if he did, he wouldn’t care anymore. he was numbed, no longer the firework you’d known.

“hawks,” it came as a quiet plea as you felt for your phone and dialed his number. he gave it to you right before you walked into bakugou’s apartment.

“please pick up, please pick up,” you muttered, trying to wipe the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they came.

“hey, birdie? are you okay?”

“hawks,” you sobbed. “hawks, no, i’m not.”

“hey, are you still at the apartment building? i’ll be right there, chickadee, alright?”

you nodded, sniffed, then said meekly, “yeah.”

“stay on the line. talk to me, birdie.” his voice was soothing.

“hawks, it hurts, everything.” you felt as though you were pouring out your heart, spilling scarlet on the carpet. “hawks.” tears dropped onto the carpet. “hawks.” your knees almost gave in.

“what floor are you on, dove?”

“third,” you hiccupped.

“i’m right there, feather.” you saw hawks emerge from the stairwell. his hair looked windblown. he looked relieved to see you at first, then his face fell to that of sympathy. “oh, birdie,” he said softly, running up to you. “i’m here now.’

you weren’t aware bakugou was listening to you cry on the other side of the door as you sobbed into someone else’s shoulder, not his. with dark eyes and trembling hands he couldn’t calm, he dialed a number on his phone.

“well, tomura? i did it.”

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou angst #bnha angst #hawks fluff #bnha fluff #hawks imagines #hawks scenarios #keigo takami fluff #keigo takami imagines #keigo takami scenarios #katsuki bakugou #keigo takami #luna's writing

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boognish-worshipper · 3 years

Text

Remember the Rain

praying this is the final part of “Sunrise, Sunset” by the time i’m done omg ,, lamar finally talks it out with frank. i was tryna keep the titles consistent with a sky theme? wasn’t sure what to name this one at first, but i settled on naming it after a i song that i felt was sorta fitting lol ,, also lamar’s dramatic when drunk, that’s jus how it’s gonna be

oh and i included one last convo w/ that psychic lady bc each character got three opportunities to speak to her lol

The night Franklin and him fought was the third night in a row Lamar couldn’t sleep right. Then it became four. Then five. Six. He had hoped after the first couple days of Franklin being mad, that it’d all blow over and things would go back to normal. That he wouldn’t ever have to say anything about what he felt deep down. Even though he told himself he had to, he wouldn’t. He waited it out, and still hoped it would all just fucking blow over. That wasn’t what happened of course.

An overcast sky was spread over LS, light rain tapping against Lamar’s window. As cheesy as it was, it reflected how he felt. Another day had passed. Franklin wasn’t picking up, not even reading his texts, nothing. He called a couple times at first when the fourth day of the silent treatment occurred, then tried a few more times to contact him in the following days. It had grown into a long and sad string of texts.

franklin.

dog

plz

pick up

answer me

plz?

c’mon frank i told you i have nothin goin on with yo auntie

i wanna talk things out with you.

u ain’t let me finish explaining

text me when u read this. plz bro

He sighed. This was hopeless. He set his phone aside, still laying awake. A buzz came right after. Fucking finally, something.

fuck you

we got nothin to discuss

He didn’t know how to feel. This was fucking him up and he couldn’t think straight. He tried calling him once more, the ringing as he waited for a pick up mocking him. Voicemail yet again. How many messages had he tried leaving at this point?

for fucks sake frank pick up

u ain’t doin this to me rn

jus let me explain myself

He stared at the ceiling yet again, like it would have all the answers sprawled out for him. As he did, he focused on how the rain had picked up, coming down harder. Then he felt his phone buzz.

now stop blowing my phone up

i’m tryna sleep

Lamar was never one to be sensitive, but he felt so crushed right now that all he could do was cry silently to himself. He didn’t even have Chop around anymore to comfort him like he normally would whenever Lamar was going through something. Would he even see him again? He lived over at Frank’s now. Fuck. Did this mean they’d have to share custody now? If he wasn’t so upset, he most likely would’ve laughed at the idea of it. He was letting bad thoughts consume him, turning to a last minute resort of drinking to try stopping it. This kind of thing rarely happened to him, these kind of feelings weren’t common. He knew no other method of trying to stuff bad feelings down, working through a 6 pack of beer on his own, followed by a bottle of some type of random liquor. Anything to stifle the pain in his chest, although it didn’t accomplish much other than making him feel even more queasy. He left one last voicemail, choking back a sob. Or what he had thought would be the last one. He lost count.

“Franklin. Please jus’ talk to me already man. You- you believin’ what you wanna believe right now, you ain’t even givin’ me a chance. You my best fuckin’ friend, don’t that mean shit to you anymore? We.. homies n shit.” He sniffled, cringing to himself when he said the words “best friend”. Franklin was so much more than that to him.

“Ion… Ion think I can live without you in my life. You can’t hate me man that shit.. that’s fucked. This is fucked. I’m fucked.”

A strong feeling of humiliation hung around him for many reasons, one being that he was fully crying now, over the phone. He couldn’t get any lower.

“You jus’ mad right now. But you.. you won’t be, eventually. Right? Please get back to me soon. Please. I’d rather fuckin’.. die or sum’ than have you hatin’ me n shit. At this point I might as well.”

After hanging up, he decided to visit that site one last time. His tears blurred his vision, making it harder to type. The shit in his system didn’t help either.

lady

i fuckef up

thsi is yo faukt

What now? Why are you back?

frankljn hates me

He does? That’s not right.

damn straighy it fuckign isnt

No, I mean that’s not correct.

There’s no way that he could, even if it seems like it right now.

jus fuckin tell me whst to do

That’s out of my hands.

is not u fuckin wirch

*withc

*witch

Look, I really don’t know how else to help you. I don’t have any other visions to offer. You’re on your own.

They do say though, that dreams are visions themselves.

dont fukcin speak in riddles rn

Precognition, Lamar. Just have faith

prewhatnow

n yeah. faith. bc that helps so fuckn much

All I can say to you is good luck - it’s all coming together. Just wait.

th fuck does that mean?

It means that you’re stressing too much - you better sleep it off. Farewell Lamar. You’re gonna have a killer hangover you know…

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

The notification did nothing but make him more upset. He calmed down eventually, the crying and alcohol tiring him out. He blacked out soon after, not remembering when he fell asleep.

For the first time in a while, he dreamt about the two of them. The start of the dream showed a radiant sight before them, the sky lit up in a million shades. Chop was laying beside Franklin, head on his thigh. All three of them sat on a grassy knoll, a soft breeze blowing through each blade. Franklin turned, Lamar not taking his eyes off him since the dream started. He only noticed the sky’s wide color palette because the intensity struck Franklin’s face just right. He looked right into Lamar’s eyes, speaking softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“What?”

“You had so many opportunities. So many times, I thought that you would. I got my hopes up, you know. I waited. When Tanisha left.. I only had you.”

“Tanisha..”

“I still love her. I.. I think apart of me always will, but I love you just the same. Even if you drive me up a Goddamn wall sometimes. You both mean the world to me.”

Franklin looked back at the view ahead. A heavenly indigo replaced the vivid hues from before.

“But she’s gone now. Shit ain’t the same. All I know is you stayed when she didn’t. Even when she got pulled outta the hood and made some kinda new life for herself, you never left my side. Never changed yo loyalties.”

He turned back to face Lamar again. His eyes were glassy, the glow of the midnight sky reflecting in them.

“So why didn’t you say somethin’ sooner?”

“Franklin.. I ain’t deduce that shit ‘til now.“

“You really didn’t know?”

Even in the dream he could feel that previous frustration occur in his mind. Was he hiding in a glass closet or something? He could only let out a wry laugh.

“Yeah man. I was a fuckin’ fool, jus’ like you always said.”

“Damn straight.” He chuckled, and Lamar came to the conclusion that he could listen to that laugh forever. Franklin’s face then fell solemn.

“Y’know I really thought that.. I really thought that you jus’ got with someone else. Not even jus’ my Aunt. I saw how you wanted to get away from me, and I thought…” He stopped himself, petting Chop’s head.

“I.. wanted to be happy if you was, but the thought of that at all bothered me.”

“Why?”

“Cuz you were all I had, dog. Mike n Trevor, they have their own lives, their own history n shit. I can’t always rely on them. Denise don’t give a fuck what happen to me. You my lifeline dog, I’ve known you for years. I didn’t want you to forget me over a chick or sum’. That day you acted all different n shit, it worried me.”

“Hey man, y’know I ain’t ever gon pull that shit on you. I’m with you for life.”

“Then don’t pull other kinda stupid shit on me.”

“Whatchu mean?”

“You can’t ever die on me bro. That ain’t how this shit works.”

“Ay man, I don’t plan on dying jus’ yet. Not unless yo ass by my side. Not ‘til I tell you I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Franklin got closer to his face, cupping his cheek. His eyes shone as the stars around them fell from the sky, akin to raindrops, hitting them. Everything about him was flooding Lamar’s senses, and it felt surreal, between his aroma and all the other things he loved about Franklin. Golden flecks covered them both, and the stars continued to crash down. The sky was growing darker than before.

“Just say the words Lamar. Say them and this shit’ll be over.”

“How?”

“Well first you need to wake yo ass up.”

“Huh?”

“I said wake up, fool!”

Lamar’s blissful dream had been interrupted by an unknown figure shaking him, literal raindrops hitting his face. He was still bleary eyed, only seeing a vague silhouette in front of him. A wet slap to the face rattled his brain around, the hangover settling in. Shit, was he still drunk? What time was it?

“Lamar! Get up!”

“Oh.. Th’fuck? Who- who that is?” He grunted out.

“It’s me you fuckin’ clown!”

“Frank?”

“Who the fuck else?”

“Why are you-”

He was abruptly yanked out of bed, thudding to the floor with a small “oof”.

“Get up you punk bitch!”

“Franklin what the fuck-”

He was grabbed again, tossed back onto his bed. Franklin straddled him, shaking Lamar by the collar.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He said, Lamar getting another slap to the face.

“What in the fresh fuck is you talkin’-” Another slap.

“15 fuckin’ missed phone calls! 15! Are you fuckin’ nuts?!”

Lamar’s eyes practically popped out of his head. 15? What the fuck did he say to him?

“I did what-”

Franklin shook him even harder by his shirt, stretching the material out. He was straining his voice now.

“You had me worried like fuckin’ crazy! I thought you was in some sorta fuckin’ trouble again! You blew my phone up when I told yo ass not to, and then didn’t fuckin’ pick up after I heard the first couple special messages you left me!”

Oh God. This was it. He told Franklin everything, didn’t he? The color drained from his face.

“Oh fuck me..” He mumbled, putting a hand over his eyes.

“What?!” Franklin yelled, shaking him again. Lamar’s head was pounding.

“Franklin.. what.. what I say on there? I barely remember a thing, let alone callin’ yo ass.”

“You seriously don’t fuckin’ remember?!”

“Yeah. Seriously, man.”

Franklin slid off of him, putting a palm to his face. He breathed through his nose hard, trying to calm down. Lamar realized he was drenched from the small downpour outside. Pellets of rain thumped against the window as a reminder that the storm never went away.

“You.. fuck, man. You started sayin’ all this shit about how bad a fuckin’ friend you was. That you, you was hidin’ all this shit and couldn’t live another day without tellin’ me.”

Okay. Good. He didn’t tell him the truth.

“You told me you wanted to die dog. Didn’t realize yo dumbass was safe n sound asleep in yo fuckin’ bed.”

“Oh.”

“…’Oh’? Is that really all you have to say?!”

“F, I was jus’ drunk. It was dumb of me, I know, but I.. It’s nothing, okay?”

“Don’t do this shit to me man! I’ve already dealt with enough of yo fuckin’ schemes n shit-”

“Frank.”

“It’s 3 am! You had Chop barkin’ his Goddamn head off the whole night!”

“Franklin.”

“Then I race my ass over here to find yo drunkass self passed out in bed-”

“Franklin.”

“What! What?! You finally gonna put yo two cents in for once?”

“Stop yelling. My head hurts like a bitch right now.”

“Good! I’m fuckin’ glad because I know mine does as well you fuckin’ asshole!”

Lamar looked pathetically up at him. This was getting out of hand. He let it go on for too long.

“Why did you come here then?” He croaked.

“Because you were fuckin’ sobbin’ into the phone! All I heard was you cryin’ like mad fuckin’ crazy and it scared me. You don’t ever do that shit, not even when you fucked up.”

“How much I say?”

“I got the first message pretty fuckin’ clear, the rest was jus’ incoherent bullshit. I barely got through the second one before speedin’ on over. You sounded hurt n shit, I thought something happened. I thought you was a goner.”

“No weird shit though right? I ain’t say nothin’ bad?”

“What? Lamar, what the fuck are you on about? I just told you what yo ass cried out to me! I couldn’t even understand any of the other messages!”

“Okay, okay. That’s.. good I guess.”

“That’s good? Fuckin’ hell, why did I come here? You- ugh!”

“Franklin. Can you jus’ sit down before you pop a fuckin’ blood vessel? You stressin’ for nothin’.”

If anything, Lamar should be the one stressing right now. He had been so close to confessing without knowing. Franklin sat next to him, arms crossed.

“Franklin.”

“What.”

“I’m sorry that I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well good fuckin’ job, you accomplished that real well didn’t you.” He said, sarcastically applauding him.

“I thought you were cutting me off for good homie. You think I was gon’ let that happen?”

“Lamar, that still ain’t a good reason to freak me out like that in the middle of the night.”

“It’s only cuz you hadn’t been listenin’ to me bro. I’ve been wanting to tell you somethin’ so badly lately and I never.. got the chance.”

“Then do pray fuckin’ tell LD, what the fuck is so important that you had to do this shit to me at 3 AM!”

“Franklin man, c’mon-”

“No! Don’t start!”

Franklin stood, heading for the door as he spoke. He stopped in the threshold.

“Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on with you, or I’m leavin’ yo sad ass here to wallow. I mean it L.”

“Don’t be like that. Please man. I want to, but I-”

“Jus’ fuckin’ tell me! Why won’t you tell me?!”

“Frank-”

“I dragged my ass all the way over here for nothin’ didn’t I? You ain’t dead, you ain’t sayin’ shit, you jus’ bein’ so- ugh! Fuck!” He threw his hands up, exiting Lamar’s bedroom.

“I’m done man, fuck this.”

“Franklin wait- don’t go-” He pleaded.

Franklin did nothing but leave him stranded again, thunder rolling far in the distance. Lamar ran after him as he walked out the door, hearing the rain heavily hit the pavement. His mind was racing far ahead of him. Franklin was leaving, he was leaving for good, and he couldn’t. He can’t. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Franklin can’t do that, he can’t-

His mind had gone so far away, that he didn’t even realize that he had tackled Franklin to the ground. The two of them fell to the ground with a loud splat, followed by sounds of pain.

“Lamar what the fuck?!”

“Don’t go! Fuckin’ hell, I gotta chase yo ass and for what?!”

“Get off me dog!”

“No!” Franklin was pinned beneath him. The raindrops that rolled off of Lamar hit him in the face.

It reminded Lamar of when they were younger, playing football or whatever sport they could outside even as the deluge soaked them both to the bone. The roles had been reversed, with Franklin constantly knocking him down onto the grassy sludge. They got quite an earful from Lamar’s mom as they tracked mud in the house upon returning. It was a memory amongst many that stuck with him like glue. Those memories couldn’t go away. Franklin couldn’t go away.

Tears mixed in with the rain as he yelled out to him.

“You fuckin’ idiot! Why you makin’ this shit so hard for me?! You keep leavin’ before I can even finish!”

Franklin struggled to break free from Lamar’s grip on his wrists, huffing as he looked away.

“Look at me!” Lamar shouted, grabbing his face with a free hand.

“I didn’t wanna fuckin’ tell you like this, but Jesus Christ! For fucks sake you stubborn asshole-”

He was doing it. He bit the fucking bullet.

“You know how we got into that fuckin’ argument last week? When I told you that I was dealin’ with that whole love thing, I wasn’t talkin’ about yo Aunt, a hoe, nobody else! I was talkin’ about you!”

Lamar threw himself off of him, stumbling backwards. Franklin propped himself onto his elbows. He finally said it. He said it, and he was far from finished.

“But you didn’t wanna fuckin’ listen! And now I’ve fucked our friendship over for a second time! All because of you! This whole thing has been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane lately, and I couldn’t do shit about it! I tried so, so hard to avoid this, but nothin’ ever goes my way, huh?! Every time I think a plan of mine’ll work, it doesn’t! You know why?!”

Opening his arms wide, he spoke loud and clear, finishing his rant.

“Lemme remind you: I’m Lamar fuckin’ Davis! The biggest fuckin’ fool, fuckin’ clown, fuckin’ whatever you wanna call me! Lamar Davis, the most naïve bitch on the planet! Fuck me for thinking that this would ever go well!”

Now it was his turn to leave. But he didn’t go back into his house. His legs moved for him, walking in no particular direction. He just needed to get away from Franklin, not caring about how damp his clothes were now. He was shaking, and he didn’t know if it was from the rain or the range of emotions he was flying through.

He could hear a pair of sneakers squishing behind him. Franklin was running, and he was catching up fast.

“Ay Lamar! Get back here!”

Oh fuck. He was chasing after him now. That’s not good. Lamar started running himself, not caring about possibly slipping and falling on his ass. Only a few hours ago, he had told himself he couldn’t be without Franklin. Now all he wanted to do was run away.

“Lamar!”

Fuck fuck fuck.

He wasn’t fast enough. The second time they hit the ground, Lamar had the wind knocked right out of him, the duo splashing right into a puddle. Hands gripped his shoulders, flipping him around.

“Lamar!”

There were only a few instances in his life where Lamar felt small. He’d always been big in character, big in height, and according to him, big in other ways. But this was one of those moments where he couldn’t help but flinch, wanting to collapse in on himself. He was so tired.

“If you gon’ beat my ass or somethin’ jus’ get it over with.” He sighed, shutting his eyes tight.

When he felt nothing but raindrops touch his face, he opened his eyes slowly. His heart sank when he did. Franklin was visibly upset, guilt in his eyes.

“Lamar. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

A wave of déjà vu washed over him. Oh. So that’s what precognition meant. Motherfucking psychic lady.

“You should’ve jus’ told me man.”

“I tried dog. You wouldn’t hear me out.”

“Cuz I.. I thought you got with someone. I didn’t wanna hear it straight from yo mouth if you was.”

He shifted up, Frank sitting in his lap.

“Y’know I always thought that.. Part of me jus’ kinda thought that it’d always be the two of us. I’m never gonna get Tanisha back.. but you..”

Franklin looked away.

“You a crazy ass loyal motherfucker man. You stuck by my side no matter what, and some dumbass part of me was convinced that you… I mean fuck, so many times I thought you would jus’ flat out say something. Somethin’ so I could stop waiting for the one other person I had known forever to just say that they fuckin’ loved me like that.”

Lamar blinked, rainwater getting into his eyes. It wasn’t quite as serene as his dream had been, nor was it verbatim, but Lamar didn’t care. There was something about the way the water droplets sat along Franklin’s face, highlighted by a streetlight behind him that made him look angelic.

“When you started actin’ all weird it jus’.. made me so fuckin’ mad man. I thought you was gon’ pick someone else over me. Jus’ like Tanisha did.”

“Franklin..”

“So why didn’t you jus’ say somethin’ sooner? I waited. Hell, I don’t even know why I did at first.”

“Franklin.”

“But now I’m realizin’ you must not have even noticed yoself what you was feelin’, when I fuckin’ did. I noticed and you didn’t and-”

Lamar grabbed him by the face, grip surprisingly strong after being in the rain.

“How many times do I gotta say yo name for you to hear me?”

The rain kept falling, never slowing for either one of them. Yet, it felt like time stopped. Lamar chuckled lightly.

“Franklin Clinton and Lamar Davis. Two of the dumbest motherfuckers in LS. Homies for life.”

“Yeah. Homies for life.”

His hands never left Franklin’s face. He pressed their foreheads together, lowering his voice.

“I love you, bum ass bitch.”

“Yeah yeah. I love you too.”

He kissed the top of his head, moving his hands down to embrace him in a tight hug. When was the last time they did this? As he thought it over, he could hear Franklin’s voice muffled against his chest.

“Don’t scare me like that again. Next time save us both the trouble n jus’ spill yo heart out. Dramatic motherfucker.”

The words had no malice in them, Lamar feeling him smile as he said it. He kissed him once more, and they just sat in the rain, feeling it bathe them in fond memories.

//plz listen to remember the rain by 21st century it’s so good 💔😭 anyway ya i decided to end it on a sorta happy note !!!!! franklin is a stubborn guy smh,, sorry for any typos lol also i rlly had no idea where i wanted to go with this so sorry if it’s weird or whatever

#grand theft auto 5 #gta v #lamar davis #franklin clinton #franklin/lamar #framar #one sided pining #but with a twist #mutual pining #i told y’all frank was hiding sumn

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mikaze-discord · 3 years

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OG Heavens: Love letters

For these Heavens posts, I had reached out to a few people who just never ended up responding. With projects like these, please at least hear them out, you don't have to do it because I know its a huge project but at least tell them you won't be doing it instead of ghosting them. But apart from that little road block, this project was really fun!!

Please enjoy under the cut!!!!

EIICHI OTORI

From @milkmateartist:

I have always leaned towards megane characters and Eiichi is no exception. However, it's not often you see idols wearing glasses, and that is something I appreciate about Eiichi's design. His color palette also intrigues me since I love deep shades of blue. His royal blue jacket is very attractive, and the way he pops the collar also makes me go "kya!". His voice is also very sexy as well and is pleasing to the ear uwu. I love how egoistic he is too. Being incredibly ambitious he has been able to reach amazing heights that surpass other idols. The one thing that seems to make him unique though is that he really gets zealous and overly passionate when it comes to the power of music, so much that it makes him physically tremble. You could get high off that shit literally. His entire being is centered around being an idol, and all the components of him go above and beyond the requirements. It's not just a job for him or something that simply makes an earning or brings satisfaction. It's pretty much everything to him. For that reason he has made it to the top. There is also the component where he's lonely and isolated emotionally that interests me. Despite being a beloved idol, he clearly didn't get the love he needed growing up. Even though he had Eiji I feel as though his nature was more to protect Eiji and shield him from whatever terrors would arise. I admire his ability to come through all of that and pay attention to the things he really cared about. Eiichi can be himself, his strange, sexy self, but also he acknowledges the lonesome darkness within too. I think that component makes him incredibly powerful.

Extra Details:

While appearing to be a bad guy in the anime (at least), Eiichi seemed to be that typical bad boy idol that would steal away Haruka from the main group. The time when he approached Haruka and took her by the chin is a perfect example. How dare this new guy just think he can have his way with our protagonist! To be honest I liked that aspect about him a bit. While I can't remember my first impression of Eiichi aside from not knowing how to feel about that, he slowly grew on me. He had the appearance of just another selfish idol, demonstrated by swiping the mic away from the announcer at one of his concerts and immediately declaring their foreseen victory. So far that looked rather bland to me, and I was still cheering for STARISH. They really made him out to look like some bad guy who would not play fair and do whatever he could to take the throne (and the girl). It's not surprising his glasses shine adds to his 'freaky antagonist' vibe that the show seemed to try to give off, but however for me I love the glasses beam, thus having the opposite effect.

And then there is the Next Door episode. Now here's where we got to see more of Eiichi aside from when the HEAVENS Dragon demolished the entire stadium. Aside from kya-ing over the EiichiOtoya content (especially where he goes behind otoya and covers his eyes), I got to see more of him here. It surprised me that someone so cocky and confident was actually the same depressed, lonely person that Otoya was. But it was also evident to me as well that he did care about the effect it had on Otoya as well after he sort-of-well mind broke him. I like how he is ambitious but also still caring, as compared to an antagonist that would stop at nothing to achieve their goal regardless of how much pain they cause.

I also enjoy Eiichi because I feel like I can roleplay him well. Usually for me, roleplay has to achieve some kind of goal since I tend to be business oriented. I think to some degree I'm able to practice being a eboy idol through Eiichi, as I do enjoy charming the fans. It also helps that I can naturally play characters with an inflated ego who enjoy charming people.

From @/egoisticCEO on twt:

July 2019. When Eiichi was first introduced to me via his voice, I hated him from the very beginning. His singing, his appearance, his personality – everything about him made me despise him. It’s funny looking back and seeing how quickly my attitude changed towards him, realising I’d been biased against him because of a friend. Finding more about him, hate turned to interest. It seemed like his life hadn’t been the best. Maybe that was why he acted in such a way? Interest turned to liking him more. Maybe I’d misunderstood him. I’d made the mistake of taking him at surface level.

December 2019. Like was slowly turning to love. More and more, I found myself looking at him instead of my current favourites. I found myself wanting him to actually be a part of Egoistic. Once I started devouring HEAVENS Radio and unveiling his true character, it was shocking how quickly I fell. He truly acted like a father to everyone in his band. Giving them what he never received. Everything was for them to thrive.

2020. With how much I was at home, it only made sense I grew more obsessed. I found Life with Thanks’ translation. “We’re irreplaceable to him,” he tells us, and that made me certain that his heart wasn’t as evil as some people liked to believe. He’s a caretaker, someone who wants everyone to feel like they matter. Even at his own expense. Instead of selfish, he’s selfless.

I related to him more than I have to any character – it was comforting. Seeing someone have no choice but to put on a brave face, even when his confidence was at an all time low. 2020 got a lot harder for me, but when I recovered, Eiichi was like a home to go back to. Time and time again, I’d have to break away, but I’d always be invited back in by that stupid smirk and overexaggerated ego and the warmest heart you could ever find. Every scene I watched with him would make me smile. I’d tease him to myself. I still do.

2021. That brings us to now. I can’t see my love for this one of a kind man dying any time soon. I don’t want it to, either. Just looking at him makes me happy! He’s the type of character with so many facets to his personality that you can keep digging and never reach the end. So, in conclusion, I hope I never stop finding new things out about this wonderful idiot. More than anything, he deserves all the love he gives to others, and I’d love to provide it tenfold.

KIRA SUMERAGI

From Anon:

Many have their reasons to love their favorite characters. As for me, why Kira Sumeragi is my favorite character is because there are several things about him that I can relate myself to and there are a few qualities he has that I like about him. If many do not know about Kira that much, they’d look at who he is. He may look intimidating at first and may not talk much, when in actuality, Kira is a considerate, dependable, and mindful guy. Mainly, he is the type of guy that lets his actions do the explaining. He is a hard worker, as an idol, he looks after his bandmates, HEAVENS, like family. It’s like what Eiichi said in HEAVENS Radio about Kira, “he is HEAVENS’ pride!” Although he may not say much, Kira is very observant of his surroundings and never hesitates in his decisions. The members of HEAVENS understand and acknowledge Kira, knowing that he means well.

You can even tell in his solo music! Although there are only two solo songs for Kira, if you read the lyrics carefully, Kira’s thoughts and feelings are shown. Kira always knew that if he cannot explain his feelings through words, then he’ll let his songs and his actions do it for him for you to see. Although the anime doesn’t show much of Kira, the only way to get to know him more is through HEAVENS Radio, also drama CDs like Paradise Lost, and other media like LINE Messenger Japan. There’s still much that I’d want to know about him, but as a start, these things are what makes Kira my favorite character for HEAVENS.

From Anon:

Aside from my huge bias towards OnoD the first thing that drew my attention to Kira was his design. Dark haired anime boys with bright eyes have such a vibe and I loved how mysterious he was set up to be in season 2. But the thing that really hooked me a lot was the found family that Heavens became over the progression of the anime.

Particularly since people in the fandom have a bunch of funky headcanons about Kira being the mom friend in the group, which is incredibly wholesome. Kira’s very quiet and reserved but clearly holds a deep caring for his group members and does what he can when needed which is one of the reasons why he became so loveable for me.

NAGI MIKADO

From @/_PXRFECTIONIST on twt:

If I managed to stan Nagi, so will you.

Greetings. I present to you, once more, a story of how I came to love a character that I wished I threw hands with.

So.

Nagi Mikado.

The possible only utapri character that Shinomiya oshis despise. Thanks to what happened in the anime.

Truth be told, I too was one of them. Until I came to love Both Shinomiya and Nagi. Reason?

Research.

Ya see, it is universally agreed upon that the way Nagi was pushing and pulling at Shinomiya's trauma and DID was… Not okay. So I said "yeah okay what an obnoxious kid i dont think ill ever like him lol" especially since I never come to really warm up to people younger than me.

Boy was I wrong.

My heart really sways easily when I go deep into characters, and why they act the way they are. And also because I chose to roleplay as him, but let's not. Speak of that.

(its actually the main reason i like him in the first place who am i fooling)

Nagi is… Indeed obnoxious, and really has bad manners that are covered up by his cute looks and fame, especially since he's one of the original HEAVENS members, but once you get to really know him.. It makes sense why he's being such a brat. And that is sort of endearing. And knowing how his group is like family to him too, it becomes harder and harder to completely dislike him.

….

He really is a boss man.

He knows what he wants, and how to get it. He knows how to get people to like him without handing over the tiniest sliver of his weaknesses. He acts in his own way that shapes his personality to suit him, yet still manages to be caring and helpful, even if it's hard to see tenderness and good will through his aggression.

Reading his solo lyrics, listening to the drama CDs, even thinking of headcanons due to lack of lore, it all slowly comes together like a lovely parfait to suddenly make you realize..

'Wow…'

'I really do like that rat.

#utapri #utanoprincesama #uta no prince sama #eiichi otori #otori eiichi #Kira Sumeragi #Sumeragi Kira #Nagi Mikado #Mikado Nagi

12 notes · View notes

fullsunskyy · 5 years

Text

BTS Social Media Fic Rec Masterlist

I really love SMAU’s so I’ve created a masterlist of all the fics I’ve found. This was mostly so I could keep track of what I’ve read, what chapter I was on for ongoing fics, and ones I haven’t read yet but I felt like it might be helpful so here you go. (Here is the NCT and Stray Kids masterlist as well)

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these fics, I just enjoyed them. Please go and support the authors!

Key:

Completed [ ✔ ] In progress [ 🌸 ] Discontinued [❌] Skyler’s Fav’s [ ❤️]

(TWT)- Twitter (lol sorry for some of the titles, not all had titles so I did my best to give them one)

Updated: 11/6/19 All links should be working!

Apparently I hit the link limit (whoops). Links still seem to work on mobile BUT here is a google doc of the post which is also linked on my page! https://docs.google.com/document/d/15ZAn-jX4btrBVUQRSaUwyb4aeh923a5ntdfWtA8szlg/edit?usp=sharing

Fav Writers:

@firebettercallnct (Seriously read every word she’s ever written)

@njssi

@gukooky

@bloomsuga

@mackenziexosborne

@hxseok-honee

BTS x YN/ ?? x YN

Exposed by @lysjeon [✔]

The Lonely Hearts Club by @cinnaminsvga [✔]

In God We Thrust by @cinnaminsvga [✔]

Alibi by @minyoongone [✔]

Before That by @asteriaguk [🌸]

Locked Out of Heaven by @cinnaminsvga [🌸]

Nameless (Interactive) by @firebettercallnct [🌸]

Mystery Boy by @sunsetsjk [🌸] (Currently Reading-ch 10)

Online by @inclebtsmix [🌸]

Fake Love by @hxneysuga [🌸][❌]

Life: The Biggest Troll by @adorajoon [❌]

OT7/OT8 (YN)

Spilled Milk by @adorajoon

Tag, You’re It by @hxseok-honee [🌸]

Tropicana by dragunjk [✔]

Jin x YN

Roses by @bloomsuga [ ✔ ]

Love Maze by @sighobii [✔]

Alibi by @minyoongone [✔]

Flower Girl by @mackenziexosborne [✔]

Online by @inclebtsmix [✔]

True by @bangtannguk-au [✔]

24/7 by @hxseok-honee [✔]

Soulmate Tattoos by @inclebtsmix [✔]

Let’s Get Married by @hangsangwithbts [🌸]

Namjoon x YN

Anonymous by @bloomsuga [✔]

Love Is by @hxseok-honee [✔]

Fuck Feelings by @mackenziexosborne [✔]

Cuffed by @firebettercallnct [✔]

Baby by @dayinseoul [✔]

Meaningless by @sighobii [✔]

Idol AU by @joonsintro [✔?]

300 Miles til Disaster Highway by @cinnaminsvga [🌸]

Live and Love by @lysjeon [🌸]

Hoseok x YN

Diss-Trackt Me by @njssi [✔] [ ❤️]

When Worlds Collide by @dayinseoul [✔]

Fool For Your Love by @hxseok-honee [✔]

Turn by @minyoongone (Previously black-nabi) [✔] (link to tag ‘social media au’ pg 15- no ML- scroll down to intros and part one)

One Time Thing by @bangtann-bangdamn [✔]

Just Watch by @hxseok-honee [🌸]

Catfish by @mackenziexosborne [🌸]

Metanoia by @minty-minmin [🌸]

Starstruck by @hopeworldfan [🌸]

Yoongi x YN

Diss-Trackt Me by @njssi [✔] [ ❤️]

Shameless by @njssi [✔] [ ❤️]

Forever, We are Young by @bloomsuga [✔]

Sweet Like Candy by @lysjeon [✔]

Fuck Feelings by @mackenziexosborne [✔]

No Autographs by @mackenziexosborne [✔]

When Worlds Collide by @dayinseoul [✔]

I Found by @hxseok-honee [✔]

Distant Love by @hxseok-honee [✔]

Shut Up by @tae-hyungsoo [✔]

Daddy Diaries by @bts-reveries [✔]

Next Door by @inclebtsmix [✔]

Epiphany by @hxneysuga [✔]

Unlikely Alliance by @bts-celestials [✔]

Spilled Milk by @adorajoon

Call This Love by @minyoongone [✔]

Now You See Me by @minsugapie [✔]

The Real You by @minty-minmin [✔]

Meaningless by @sighobii [✔]

Home by @bangtannguk-au [✔]

No Sleep by @kameliminx [✔]

Under Construction by @luffles424 [✔]

Lessons of Love by @honeyminyg [✔]

Nice Guys Break Hearts by @kpopbopz [✔]

Daddy Diaries by @bts-reveries [✔]

Cypher by @bangtan-nugget [✔]

College AU by @joonsintro [✔?]

Just Watch by @hxseok-honee [🌸]

Tranquility by @peacefulmoonflower [🌸]

Find My Iphone by @ediblesuga [🌸]

Dancing Emotions by @honeyminyg [🌸]

Serendipity by @halfmoonbts [🌸]

Sleepless by @yojeongin [🌸]

To Win Or To Lose by @firebettercallnct [❌]

Bloom Again by @minyoongone (Previously black-nabi) [❌] (link to tagged ‘bts college au’- ML doesn’t work)

Jimin x YN

Undo It by @njssi [✔] [ ❤️]

Clearly Confused by @mackenziexosborne [✔]

Angelic by @frgt-me-not [✔]

Pining by @firebettercallnct [✔]

The Music of Fate by @softlyjiminie [✔]

I Hate You, I Love You by @hxseok-honee [✔]

Stardust by @bangtannguk-au [✔]

A Broken Heart is Hard to Fix by @whatspoppin-yoongi [✔]

Alibi by @minyoongone [✔]

Turn by @minyoongone (Previously black-nabi) [✔] (link to tag ‘social media au’ pg 15- no ML- scroll down to intros and part one)

Epiphany by @hxneysuga [✔]

Convenience Store Guy by @blue-mold-gi [✔]

Is it Fake Love? By @minty-minmin [✔]

Lust to Love by @bts-celestials [✔]

Only Strangers by @hxneysuga [✔]

Soulmate Tattoos by @inclebtsmix [✔]

Serendipity by @gukooky (prev. lovelyyyoongi) [🌸]

I Bet You Can’t by @btsocialau [🌸]

Player by @halfmoonbts [🌸]

Redland by @silverlightqueen [🌸]

Daisies by @silverlightqueen [🌸]

Quiet Hours by @srwbrycke [🌸]

Supernatural AU by @joonsintro [🌸]

Taehyung x YN

Star Crossed by @gukooky (prev. lovelyyyoongi) [✔] [ ❤️]

Diss-Trackt Me by @njssi[✔] [ ❤️]

Undo It by @njssi [✔] [ ❤️]

Collide by @bloomsuga [✔]

Vienesse by @lysjeon [✔]

Happy Accidents by @mackenziexosborne [✔]

Mint by @kookoosbunnynose [✔]

Limerence by @gukooky (prev. lovelyyyoongi) [✔]

Love Maze by @sighobii [✔]

Under a Shadow by @firebettercallnct [✔]

Brighter Than Heaven, Darker Than Hell by @hxseok-honee [✔]

I’ll See Your True Colors by @inclebtsmix [✔]

Jump Cut (1) by @minyoongone (Previously black-nabi) (2nd link is too OG posting, scroll to bottom and read up) [✔]

Epiphany by @hxneysuga [✔]

Online by @inclebtsmix [✔]

Fake Love by @nakajeno [✔]

Compass by @yojeongin [✔]

Exchange by dragunjk [✔]

Compass by @yojeongin [✔]

Trust Issues by @taehyungieaa [✔]

Heir by @bangtannguk-au [✔]

All I Want by @ddaengyoongs [✔] (No ML- linked to tag)

Reply Back To Me by @diorjeons (prev. tokyojeons) [✔] (Linked to ML but wont open in separate blog tab but opens on dash)

Cafe Terrace at Night by @srwbrycke [✔]

College Dad AU by @joonsintro [🌸?]

The Duff by @softlyjiminie [🌸]

Rumor Has It by @bangtann-bangdamn [🌸]

Fire Escape Felonies by @ahgastae [🌸]

Talk Slow by @njssi [🌸]

Switched by @minty-minmin [🌸]

Always on My Mind by @justapotatonow [🌸]

Heir by @bangtan-nugget [🌸]

Reverie by @frgt-me-not [🌸]

Tongue Tied by @hxseok-honee [🌸]

Jungkook x YN

Kiss Marry Kill by @firebettercallnct [✔] [ ❤️❤️]

Roomies by @firebettercallnct [✔] [ ❤️]

Stay and Cook by @firebettercallnct [✔] [ ❤️]

Press Start by @gukooky (prev. lovelyyyoongi) [✔] [ ❤️]

Undo It by @njssi [✔] [ ❤️]

Mark My Words by @bangtann-bangdamn [✔]

Bloom by @bloomsuga [✔]

Incoming Text by @cinnaminsvga [✔]

Til Death Do Us Part by @cinnaminsvga [✔]

Oh my god, they were roommates by @mackenziexosborne [✔]

Happy Accidents by @mackenziexosborne [✔]

An Honest Lie by @dayinseoul [✔]

Star-Crossed Haters by @hxseok-honee [✔]

Marguerite by @frgt-me-not [✔]

Love Maze by @sighobii [✔]

Cuffed by @firebettercallnct [✔]

Social Media Au by @foreverpark (prev. lovewyself) [✔]

Jump Cut (1) by @minyoongone (Previously black-nabi) [✔] (2nd link is too OG posting, scroll to bottom and read up)

I’ll See Your True Colors by @inclebtsmix [✔]

Next Door by @inclebtsmix [✔]

Tattooed by @bangtan-nugget [✔]

Crossroads by @lunapjm [✔]

Flowerbomb by @goshguk [✔]

Feeble by @jkslug [✔]

Ice Queen by @kookmejeon [✔]

Let’s Get It by @diorjeons (prev. Tokyojeons & jjkspout) [✔] (Linked to ML but wont open in separate blog tab but opens on dash or mobile)

Highschool AU by @joonsintro [✔]

Fake Love by @nakajeno [✔]

Game Over-Restart? By @minty-minmin [✔]

Compass by @yojeongin [✔]

Bestfriend!Kook au by @lokojk [✔]

Compass by @yojeongin [✔]

Messy Love by @hxseok-honee [✔]

Trust Issues by @taehyungieaa [✔]

Only Strangers by @hxneysuga [✔]

Just Another Boy by @srwbrycke [✔]

I Hate That I’m In Love With You by @prkchimins [🌸]

Magic Shop by @seokinkjin [🌸]

Taste of Lies by @firebettercallnct [🌸] [ ❤️]

Breathe by @bloomsuga [🌸]

Ardent by @gukooky (prev. lovelyyyoongi) [🌸]

Euphoric by @httpsolros [🌸] (Linked to ch 1, no ML)

Two Can Play This Game by @lofihope [🌸]

Dancing Emotions by @honeyminyg [🌸]

You Could Call it Love by @gukooky (prev. lovelyyyoongi) [🌸]

Bad Time For A Good Time by @urlocalkpoptrash [🌸] (linked to ch 1, no masterlist for fic)

~Ships~

Yoonmin

Just Focus On Me by @thisfoolishdestiny [✔]

Denouement by @thisfoolishdestiny [✔]

Yoonmin Rapper/idol Social Media au by @vicetaes [✔]

Yoonmin Souncloud Rapper/idol Social Media au by @vicetaes [✔]

Bad Love by @luneguk [✔]

Fanboy by @luneguk [✔]

Tinder AU by @mintysugasweet [✔]

Next In Line by @goldenclosetkook [✔]

Orchestra AU by @meinkleinerangel [🌸]

Yoonmin Idol/Dancer AU by @btssocialaus [🌸]

No Strings Attached by @pasteljooonie [🌸] (Search ‘NSAPJ’ or ‘Social Media AU’ on authors tumblr and scroll to bottom-no ML.)

Keep Me Company by @goldenclosetkook [🌸?]

Jikook

Focus (On Me!) by @kookiesangels [✔] [ ❤️]

(TWT) FBI AU by tiniemnie [✔] [ ❤️]

Hickeys At 3AM by @jiminsrighthand [✔]

Bunnies are Cute by @busanaus [✔]

Happy Accidents by @goldenclosetkook [✔]

Over My Head by @youneedtohajima [✔]

Fake Boyfriend AU by @youneedtohajima [✔]

Criminal AU by @jiminspineapples [✔]

You and I ☕️ by @littlemochi13 [✔]

Protego by @jeonslilmonster [✔]

Soulmate AU by @jeonslilmonster [✔]

My Dream Guy by @little-star-in-the-universe [✔]

Weed Make a Good Couple by @busanaus [✔]

Rose AU by @jeonslilmonster [✔]

Neighbors AU by @jeonslilmonster [✔]

Dream AU by @jeonslilmonster [✔]

Studio Ghibli AU by @busanaus [✔]

Secret Admirer AU by @busanaus [✔]

Calico AU by @jeonslilmonster [✔]

Idol AU by @busanaus [✔]

(TWT) Writer AU bu tiniemnie [✔]

(TWT) Idol AU by tiniemnie [✔]

(TWT) Fanboy AU by minggvk [✔]

(TWT) Magic Shop by youneedtohajima/tinyfude [✔]

(TWT) Pin Against a Wall AU by youneedtohajima/tinyfude [✔]

Catfish by @busanaus [✔]

The Lily and The Eagle by @wingswillholdmeup [✔]

Waste It On Me by @kpopbopz [🌸]

The Nonsense of Destiny by @littlemochi13 [🌸]

Packages And Palettes 🎀by @kookiesangels [🌸] (No ML-linked to tag, scroll down tag list for ch 1)

Taekook

17 by @whippedcris [✔]

Sugar… Daddy? by @whatspoppin-yoongi [✔]

Sugar Coated Comfort by @miniyoonssi [✔] (Search ‘taekook au’ on author page and scroll down. ML doesn’t work atm)

Taekook/Yoonmin/Namjin AU by @brightlytae [✔]

Compass by @yojeongin [✔]

Just a Prank by @whippedcris [🌸]

Vmin

Pla(n)tonic Soulmates by @whatspoppin-yoongi [✔]

Only Fools Fall by @kpopbopz [✔]

Vminkook

Taegi

Through The Screen by @goldenclosetkook [🌸]

Sparkles by @goldenclosetkook [🌸?]

Yoonkook

Play With Me Softly by @goldenclosetkook [✔]

Mozzafiato;breathtaking by @jeonslilmonster [✔]

Sope

From Broken Endings by @goldenclosetkook [✔]

Black Hole Churning by @youneedtohajima [✔]

Namjin

Namkook

I See You Everyday, I Think About You Every Night by @goldenclosetkook [✔]

Poly

Right Thru Me by @hxseok-honee [✔]

6K notes · View notes

bosspigeon · 3 years

Text

one for sorrow

Pairing: Gen, M!Detective/Mason Word Count: 3483 Summary: Juniper Fenn reflects on memories, nursery rhymes, loneliness, and wanting to be wanted.

Just a little (uh... kinda big, actually?) character study for my soft boy, Juni! It wound up a lot more emotional than I originally intended, but I like having this insight into his character.

CW for (implied) deadnaming, misgendering, coming out, and in the last portion a non-graphic post-sex scene with some allusions to said sex ahfdsjh.

One for sorrow, two for joy.

He thought the needle would hurt more than it did. He closes his eyes and looks away, and the artist gives him the hairy eyeball when he clutches at Tina’s knee, like she’s afraid he’ll jump off the bench and bolt for the door. He wants to ask if that’s happened before, but he thinks he’s made enough of a fool of himself so far.

“You sure you’re good?” she asks, giving him an out. Somehow, that just strengthens his resolve.

He takes a slow breath and nods, closing his eyes.

He hears the buzzing, and when the machine first touches skin, he almost jumps, but he’s more worried about looking like more of a baby than he already does than he is startled, so he bites his lips and forces himself to holds still. And it does hurt, but not like he thought it would. He squints one eye open to watch the progress of the first line over his skin. He expects to be repulsed, like when he’s having bloodwork done, and he has to look away from the needle going into his arm. But this is different, somehow. Doesn’t make his stomach turn.

“This is the quietest I’ve ever seen you,” Tina teases, when the first wing has taken shape. He almost jumps again, but he manages to contain it to a twitch. He’s going to tip the artist as much as he’s able after this is done, just for dealing with someone as fidgety as him.

He chews at his lip. “It’s… I dunno. I wouldn’t say it feels good, but it’s kind of soothing, in a weird way?”

She leans over, watching, and the artist gives her a bit of a look, so she backs up again. “Have you told your mum?” she asks.

He snorts out a laugh and looks away, back at the stencil on his arm that will soon be filled in with black feathers and ringed with flowers. “Of course not. She’d probably kill me.”

“She doesn’t like tattoos?” Tina tilts her head, watching his face like she’s waiting for him to start whining about how it hurts. She’s always been the tougher of the two of them, and he’s got no illusions about that, so he’s sort of proud of himself for keeping his cool—as much as he’s got anyway.

He shrugs the arm that’s not under the machine, and wonders when he’ll get his next tattoo. He’s already got ideas for more, and knowing that it’s not so bad as he was worried it would be is exciting. Not to mention, it’s something that’s just for him. Not for anyone else. He’s… never really done anything like this before. “I don’t know what she likes, but I doubt she’d approve.”

She sucks her teeth and he squeezes her knee again when she gives him that soft, sad look she sometimes does when his mum comes up in conversation. “What’s it going to be?” she asks suddenly. Tina’s a good friend, changing the subject before he can get moody about it.

“A magpie,” he says softly, looking back down to watch the lone bird slowly taking shape on his skin.

Three for a girl, four for a boy.

He asks what happened to all the pretty paintings around the house when he’s ten, because they disappear sometime after one of Mum’s visits, when she seemed more distant than usual. Maybe she hopes he won’t notice, but he misses them immediately. The house is too bare without them, it feels so lonely. It’s always been lonely, ever since Dad passed, but the bare walls make it even lonelier. Mum brushes it off, of course. He’s used to it at this point, so he doesn’t push her, but he’s also stubborn, so he goes looking. He’s even more determined when she tries to shut him up by replacing them all with clean, impersonal prints in neat little frames. He finds them in the attic, tucked away in a box, each one slipped carefully into a protective sleeve or folder and wrapped in tissue paper. He finds a dreamy matted watercolor of him as a baby, fat and freckly and smiling with no teeth, and he has to take a minute to sit down and cry as quietly as possible before he can start going through the rest. There’s a folder of scrawled pencil portraits, too. He finds one of Mum sitting on a pier, peeking back over her shoulder with her hair blowing in the wind. She’s smiling. He can’t remember the last time he saw her smile.

There’s a self portrait that makes him laugh through his tears, because the reflective surface Dad seems to have used as his mirror is a Christmas ornament, so his face is distorted, one eye huge, his tongue out, drawing himself drawing. He keeps that one for sure, and a few of the other ones he thinks he can get away with. An oil pastel of a wooden swing dripping with honeysuckle, a colored pencil drawing of the library, a few studies of people and plants and animals, and another watercolor of the three magpies, sitting in a juniper tree.

There are three magpies painted on his bedroom wall, from back when it was his nursery. Dad painted them right after he was born, before they brought him home from the hospital. They’d waited until he arrived to know what his gender would be. Of course, he went and messed that up, like he did most things. Sometimes he wonders if Dad would be disappointed, or if he’d think it was funny.

They used to be above his crib, and then his bed when he outgrew that, but he moves his bed to the opposite side of his room when he’s fourteen, and covers them with a poster. He thinks for sure Mum’s going to give him an earful about it, but he’s surprised she hasn’t tried to cover them up herself. He supposes it’s not really an issue, since when she is home, it’s not like she spends any time in his bedroom.

And then he's sixteen, and he’s been practicing his watercolor for years at this point. Sometimes, he creeps into the attic when he’s got the house to himself, rifles through Dad’s paintings, studies his style for as long as he can. He’s been old enough not to need a proper nanny for years now, though someone comes to check up on him frequently and make sure he’s got food and necessities, but beyond that he’s got plenty of time alone. He sits in the attic until he's sore from the wooden floor, trying to think of how Dad’s hands might have looked while he worked, the speed and angle of his brush strokes. He doesn’t think he can find anything new at this point, as many times as he’s snuck up here to look at Dad’s work, but out of the blue, he finds what might have been a really nice landscape, if it weren’t marred by fat little handprints in bright yellow and green, as if he’d smeared his hands across the palette the second Da took his eyes off it, and slapped them down in the middle of the paper. He comes back to it a lot, when he spends time in the attic, because when he looks at it, he swears he can hear what he imagines Dad’s laugh sounded like, his voice calling him a little menace with all the fondness in the world.

And then he’s eighteen, and he’s alone on his birthday. Mum calls, tells him she loves him and she would come and visit him later on, so they could do something together, but she couldn’t take the day off. She tells him how proud she is of her daughter being all grown up, and he winces, but keeps his mouth shut.

And then he maybe gets a little bit drunk, drags out his paints and brushes, rifles through the portfolio hidden carefully in the back of his closet, and finds the painting with the juniper tree and the three magpies

He takes another shot to steady his nerves, and paints in a fourth.

Five for silver, six for gold.

He shouldn’t be surprised Mum doesn't come to his graduation, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. She’s busy, she’s always been busy, she’s been busy since he was a toddler.

He was stupid to believe anything he did would be important enough for her to bother with. To believe that he could matter to anyone enough.

Tina’s stepmum had more foresight than he did, inviting him along to her and Tina’s celebration dinner at a fancy restaurant out of town, and he has to take a minute to cry in the bathroom after they proudly present him with a messily wrapped gift and a card that practically explodes with glitter when he open it, but he can’t even pretend to be annoyed because it has his name in it, and while he's trying very hard not to break down crying in public, Tina hugs him so tightly his spine creaks and tells him she couldn’t have wished for a better brother.

When they drop him off at home, his eyes are still red and a bit wet, he’s full of good food and affection, and he’s smiling like an idiot in spite of the fact that he can’t stop sniffling. The heavy sterling silver magpie skull charm rests against his collarbone, the weight comforting in a way he can’t hope to put into words. He'll never forget Tina’s dewy, smiling eyes as she clasped it around his neck and told him proudly, “Now you’ve got two.'"

He falls into bed holding the charm, reluctant to take it off, but knowing he should put it somewhere safe before bed. He exhales a happy sigh, laughing a bit wetly to himself.

And then his phone vibrates in the pocket of his slacks, and his heart seizes in his chest.

He doesn’t have to check the ID to know who it is. Nobody ever calls him, and his eyes flicker anxiously to the pressed dress in its plastic garment bag still hanging untouched on the back of his closet door. He’d given Tina the expensive name-brand heels for her own graduation outfit, because even if he did want them, he couldn’t walk in the damn things anyway. Lucky for him, they wear the same size shoe.

He takes a moment to calm his breathing, but that means he has to fumble to answer the call before it ends, and he winces when he sees two more missed calls in his log. “Mum!” he blurts, his voice instinctively pitching higher. “Hi! How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she tells him easily. “I’m sorry again I couldn’t make it today. There was a—”

“A big project, I know,” he finishes. It’s always a project, or a trip, or a meeting. The details are always scant, but Mum knows how to make it sound big and important and in need of her attention. He’s tried not to be bitter about it, but there’s always been a part of him that wishes, for once, she’d decide he was important enough to need her attention. “It’s okay, Mum.” It’s not, it never was, but it would be selfish of him to tell her that. She’s got enough to worry about.

“Well, I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten, so I had a gift delivered. It should have arrived today.”

He bites back a sigh. He wonders if it would be easier if she had just forgotten. If it would hurt less than knowing she always made the decision not to see him. “Oh, I’ll go check!” he blurts, trying to inject as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible. He rolls out of bed and heads for the door, poking out to check the mailbox. Of course, inside there is a slim, rectangular package, wrapped in tidy brown paper. The address and names are printed on stickers.

He takes it inside with the phone tucked against his shoulder, weighing the box in his hands. It’s light, and he wants to be excited about whatever it is, but he’s suddenly drained from the day, from crying and laughing and crying some more.

The dining room, somehow, has always felt more lonely than anywhere else in the house, and he’s never been able to figure out why, but he puts the package on the table and starts picking at the neat wrapping. Mum is quiet on the other end of the phone, waiting, and Juni wants to break the odd silence, but can’t even begin to think of what to say. He wishes he didn’t bite his nails, because it takes him way too long to break into the pristine paper, and inside is a long red jewelry box. When he lifts the lid, there is a delicate gold necklace resting on a soft velvet pad, understated and objectively lovely, if not really his style, but it’s the note that flutters out of the box that catches his attention. His eyes skim the note, expecting her usual platitudes that he sometimes wonders if she has someone else type for her.

I am so proud of the woman you’ve become.

His breath leaves him in a painful, strangled rush, his lungs squeezing tight in his chest. And before Mum can speak, he blurts "I can't take this," trailed by a ragged sob.

“Of course you can,” she says gently, kindly. “I know how you get about expensive gifts, but really, it’s no trouble—”

His head fills with screaming static when she calls him what she’s always called him, what she doesn’t know better than to call him, because he’s never told her. He’s never had the chance, it’s never been the right time, it felt wrong not to do it in person, but whenever he sees her in person he feels like he shouldn’t waste the time with her by bringing up something so…

“My name is Juniper!” It explodes out of him, louder than he’s ever been with her, and it stuns her into silence. “I’m not your daughter!” he cries desperately, “I’m your son. You can’t be proud of the woman I’ve become, because I’m not a woman!” He sounds insane, he knows he does, shrill and frantic, but his heart is hammering so hard he feels dizzy, the walls are yawning wide around him, the dining room feels huge and so empty and so bleak. He’s never felt more alone in this dark, quiet house he’s spent his entire life rattling around in than he does in this exact moment, and it’s suffocating. His phone drops from shaking fingers onto the floor, and he drops with it, curling into a ball and struggling to remember how to breathe, dizzily hoping he won’t need to go scrambling for his inhaler. His fingers clench so tightly around the heavy silver charm he’s almost worried he’s going to snap the simple leather cord, but he needs to ground himself or he feels like he’ll dissolve entirely.

He hears Mum calling the name that’s not his, and when he finally manages to fumble his phone with nerveless fingers, he winces seeing the screen is cracked. “I’m sorry,” he sobs weakly, his eyes burning with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He can’t even be sure what he’s apologizing for, but he knows he has to, especially when he slams the end call button and buries his face in his knees so he can cry alone in the dark.

Seven for a secret, never to be told.

Juni’s skin is starting to get clammy, but he’s too comfortable to move. Eventually, he’s going to have to, if for nothing else than to get up and get cleaned up, but for now, he’s happy, if a little chilly. He nuzzles into the soft curls dusted across Mason’s chest, and lets his eyelids fall to half-mast, just open enough to absently count the freckles hidden under the chest hair, inevitably lose count, and start counting again. Mason smells good, cooling sweat and sandalwood, and dozy as he is, it takes a moment for Juni to realize he doesn’t really smell like smoke at all anymore. His room doesn’t smell lke smoke, either, he realizes. His heart thuds hard behind his ribs.

He gets distracted when a shiver rolls over him, the chill suddenly overwhelming against his sticky skin, and he curls further into Mason’s chest in an attempt to leach some of his warmth.

Mason clicks his tongue, and Juni’s whole body stiffens, worry zinging into his gut to rattle around there like a bird in a too-small cage. Mason shifts underneath him, and he starts to roll away, to apologize, to get out of his hair, before a strong hand clasps the back of his neck.

“Hold still,” Mason grunts, sitting up and patting around for the edge of the blanket. He pulls it out from under them both, which almost sends the detective rolling off the bed against his will this time, but Mason's hand shifts down to spread across his lower back and hold him steady until he can get them both tucked underneath.

He flops back against the pillows again, one arm tucked under his head and the other loose at his side, and slowly, cautiously, Juni crawls his way under it. The hand lands on his hip and squeezes, and Juni settles his head back on the vampire’s chest just in time to hear the pleased little rumble there. He flushes down to his chest and bites his lip, distracting himself by petting at Mason’s chest hair.

And then he pokes his flat, brown nipple and says, “Boop!” on some stupid impulse, and giggles like an idiot.

Mason scoffs and rolls his eyes, but shifts so that Juni’s thigh hitches up over his. “Keep that up, sweetheart, and we’ll be going into round two sooner rather than later.” Juni can feel the truth in that statement against his thigh, and he blushes so hotly he knows Mason can feel it at every point their bodies are touching. He might be approaching supernova levels of heat when Mason smugly adds, “Well, round two for me. Three for you.”

He hides his face in Mason’s chest with a long groan. “I’m going to explode,” he declares. “I’m going to collapse like a dying star.”

Mason laughs, sharp and startled and shockingly bright, and Juni’s head shoots up so he can see his face. His hair is a mess, but of course it still looks amazing, hanging around his face in loose, sweat-damp spirals. His vulpine grey eyes are crinkling at the corners, even his sharp nose wrinkling in a way that makes Juni’s heart almost stop. And his mouth, usually either pinned into a scowl, or twisted into a sly (and stupidly attractive) smirk, is curled into a smile, breathtaking in its open softness.

God, I love you, Juni wants to cry, his heart pounding in counterpoint to the desperate, silent declaration he traps behind his teeth by digging them into his lower lip so hard he’s almost afraid he’s going to make himself bleed. And it doesn’t stop. I love you, I love you, I love you drums in his chest, hums through his blood, and when Mason catches him looking, he reaches out to push the tangled forelock of curls hanging in Juni’s eyes out of his face, cupping his cheek to pull him into a kiss. Juni shivers and braces his hand on Mason’s chest, feeling the vampire’s heart thumping there, steady and stable and achingly familiar. His own matches it beat for beat, and thankfully his mouth is too occupied for the pulsing plea of love me, love me, please love me to spill out. So he dives into it, clings to it, and when Mason breaks away to let him breathe, Juni buries his mouth against the arch of his throat instead, presses messy kisses to his collarbones, his chest, his shoulders, throttles the words before they can escape him and pushes them into touches instead. Touches can’t damn him the way words can.

There’s a soft, shameful part of him he ignores like he always has that whispers to him that maybe, just maybe, if he pours enough of himself into every kiss, every touch, that the words will finally be understood. That the weak little part of him he buries deeper and deeper every time it cries out will finally be seen, and answered, and cradled tenderly in someone’s strong, freckled hands.

But until then, it will sit there in his chest under lock and key and ache, like all his secrets do.

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snidgetwidgeon · 4 years

Text

Insurrection Recollections Series: Art Festival

Every year Hyrule Castle hosts an art festival where artisans from across the land can come together and share their culture with the added element of friendly competition. Having been far too long since Urbosa attended, she decides to surprise young Zelda with a visit. While there, she happens upon, and is very intrigued by the Castle Guard's most talented recruit.

Sivul’s Scimitar that I doodled as a prompt from Linktober 2020

Urbosa gingerly ran her fingers over the exquisite gems and sculpted hilt of the curved blade crafted by her master artisan. “This is your finest work, Sivul,” she commented in awe as she looked at her reflection in its polished, mirrored surface.

Sivul grinned and rolled her eyes good naturedly. “You always say that, Chief.” She stretched her neck both ways and rolled her shoulders, finally free of the project. She had fixated on it with such a single minded passion that she had no life outside the workshop, just as she did with every project really.

Urbosa drew her own blade from its horizontal sheath at her hip and compared the two. They were both thick, inlaid with designs reminiscent of Gerudo script and perfectly balanced. “I’d say you have even surpassed your master. The Scimitar of the Seven now has a counterpart, and almost pales in comparison.”

Sivul respectfully went down on one knee, recognizing when she ought to be gracious. “You honor me with such praise. I am glad to have lived up to my master’s craftsmanship.” She heard both blades sliding back into their sheaths and rose. After placing the scabbard back in its pedestal, she started to tidy her workspace a little.

Urbosa leaned against the smooth stone wall, continuing the conversation in a more casual way. “I’m also impressed that you always manage to finish well before your deadlines.”

“Yes, well... that’s just due to possession by my muse- to the detriment of every other aspect of my life,” Sivul admitted self-deprecatingly.

“Hmm, haven’t I told you to get an assistant? An apprentice, perhaps?”

“You have.”

Urbosa’s teal painted lips turned up in a wry smile when Sivul offered nothing beyond that. Cheeky vai. “Well then, you’ll have space for me to accompany you to the festival. I’d like to be there when you win popular choice.”

Sivul’s eyes were suddenly saucers. “Chief! I would- that would be- are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

“My dear friend started the festival when she became Queen as a way to bring the people and cultures of Hyrule together through the sharing and appreciation of their art. I’ve missed one too many of them in the past couple of years and I will not do it again. It wasn’t a coincidence that I commissioned this work from you,” she winked. “Let’s give those yuppie Zora a run for their rupees.”

Their arrival to Hyrule Castle was heralded and the standard procession of pageantry was observed as they entered the King’s Court. Urbosa led proudly up the long red carpet, passing between numerous large pillars bedecked with banners bearing the colors and crest of the Royal Family. She was followed closely by Sivul, four attendants that carried an ornate chest perched on two poles, and finally, a group of five warriors armed with a display of Gerudo’s finest spears, scimitars and decadent round shields. The Gerudo always brought a colorful palette that was a feast for the eyes.

As she bowed, Urbosa wondered where her Little Bird could be but was sure it wouldn’t be very long before they were together. This was somewhat of a surprise visit, so she couldn’t fault the girl for not being present to receive her- she had a very busy schedule. Too busy, in her opinion.

“Gerudo Chief Urbosa,” the King’s voice boomed through the Hall. “Welcome.” Rhoam held a smile for his friend but she did not miss the tired shadow under his eyes. It was the very same one she saw in the mirror when she felt particularly run down with her own responsibilities.

“Is this a gift you have brought, perchance?” He asked, gesturing to the chest.

“You’ll wish it was once you’ve seen it.” She felt satisfied when her comment elicited genuine mirth from his features.

“Is that so? I wouldn’t dare contradict you.”

“Gerudo Town’s finest artisan, Sivul,” she took a step back and gestured to her companion, “has brought her craft for everyone to see. We intend to leave with all due accolades.”

He smiled again and very diplomatically stated, “May the best artist win. Please enjoy your stay during the festival.”

With the formalities out of the way, he closed the distance down the few steps between them and shook her hand, transitioning into his standard volume. “I’d invite you and yours to rest from your journey but I was hoping you could entertain me in my chambers for a few minutes?”

“Of course.” She turned to the others, “Don’t wait up, and remember to have fun. This is a visit for pleasure.” Her entourage all nodded respectfully and turned to leave except for two warrior attendants. She looked between them both, “That means you too. Let’s not insult poor Rhoam’s security. I’ll be fine in the castle,” she smirked. They bowed and acquiesced.

The two rulers made their way out of the Great Hall via the East wing. This led down a short hallway to a council chamber that had a very long, dark wooden oval table in the middle. The King offered some small talk as they crossed the room along the wall lined with windows, “It’s quite a surprise that you have made it this year. Zelda will be delighted.”

Urbosa smiled, slightly distracted, and nodded. She had been in these chambers many times negotiating and going over various policies and was glad to finally have a visit that was not duty-bound; though by Rhoam’s demeanor, it seemed she wouldn’t be able to escape it completely. She wondered what news was forthcoming that could not be delivered by official communications.

They entered his private chambers and he closed the door behind them. It was simply furnished with a desk and only a few chairs. There was a bookshelf against the wall and one window that looked out into a courtyard. This room was mainly used for private deliberation during larger meetings or simply as a retreat for when the King felt he needed a breather from all the political squabbling. He took a chair in front of the desk and gestured to the other, “Please, have a seat.”

She was intrigued by this meeting already; he was seated across from her casually as an equal rather than having positioned himself in a place of authority behind the desk. She crossed her legs languidly and pushed her vibrant and thick red hair off her shoulder, waiting politely for him to speak.

“My Adviser Impa has not long returned from an audience with the Deku Tree where she was able to confirm our discovery of the final Divine Beast’s location. Preparations are underway to begin another excavation mission to the Eldin region.”

“Hm, that makes sense. A beast for each race,” she laced her fingers together in thought, elbows resting on either side of her chair. “Then that could mean the soul of the hero will reside in a Hylian.”

“Still as sharp as ever. I sometimes wish you could stay at my table permanently,” he chuckled. As quickly as the humor came, it also went, and King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule revealed his vulnerability to her, as one in a very small circle he would even dare show since the passing of his wife. “I can only hope that it is not to be in our time. Perhaps we are merely a step in the grander destiny of those that come after us, and we must ready the machines for them. Perhaps the sealing power is meant to awaken within another Princess...” He scoffed at himself after a moment’s deep thought, “I sound like a cowardly fool.”

Urbosa uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, taking the hand that had been resting on the arm of his chair. Looking into his tired eyes, she said, “A good ruler always wishes they could reign over a time of peace. But some make the mistake of not being ready for war. You’re taking all the necessary steps. All we can do is try to prepare the best we can against an enemy we know little about.”

He squeezed her hand slightly and replied, a bit comforted, “You have always been a good friend to me as you were to my wife. Thank you.” He pulled away and stood. “I’ve no doubt that I’ll be in need of your ally ship more than ever in the coming-”

The doors to his chambers were suddenly thrust open and Zelda stood there in her white prayer robes, hair frazzled, panting. “Urbosa!” Her sandals flapped on the tiles and were then muffled on carpet as she ran into the room and wrapped her arms around the waist of the much taller Gerudo woman. Rhoam and Urbosa shared a bemused look as she returned the embrace.

Zelda looked up and asked accusingly, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“And miss this glorious display of surprise?” She laughed in husky, low tones. “How else am I supposed to entertain myself after a long journey?” She smoothed Zelda’s hair as she smiled with a maternal sentiment. “Would you like to see our entry for the festival?”

“You’re entering?! Of course! Is it down in the courtyards already? I’ll have to go change first.”

“I think it’s still in our chambers until installation tomorrow, but yes, let’s get you into something more casual.” As Zelda flitted out the door, Urbosa bowed politely, “King Rhoam.”

Rhoam returned the bow with a respectful nod, “Chief Urbosa.”

Urbosa practically had to chase Zelda to catch up with her in the Grand Hall but once she strode alongside, Zelda had to try and keep pace with her long gait. They chatted about nonsensical things while in the public eye: Zelda’s studies, devotions and hobbies; Urbosa’s new sand seal, her latest public works, and her continuous bragging that the Gerudo would win the competition this year. Once they were in private, however, Urbosa intended to ask the real questions. When they arrived in Zelda’s room, she smiled politely and waited until the attendant who was dusting made her way out.

“My apologies Princess, I thought you would still be out for quite some time. I’ll come back later and give you two some privacy.” The middle aged woman adjusted her glasses, stuck the duster under her arm and scooped up her skirts in a quick curtsy before attempting to make a hasty exit.

“It’s ok Fria. Actually- before you go, do you know where my light blue spring dress is? I’d like to wear it for the festival. I haven’t worn it recently but I wonder if it’s still accidentally with the wash?”

“I’ll go check for you now, Princess. Is there anything else I can help with while I’m out?”

Zelda pondered the question as she removed her devotional jewelry, placing the pieces in their custom, blue-velvet lined cases, “Hmm. Yes! Could you please lay out my sirwal for supper this evening? I’d like to dress in honor of our wonderful guest, Gerudo Chief Urbosa.” Zelda gestured happily to Urbosa as if Fria didn’t already know she was there; she was just so excited to have her visit.

Urbosa nodded kindly when she was mentioned.

“Of course,” Fria answered. She gave another polite curtsy to them both and gently shut the big wooden door behind her.

Zelda started talking about how dinner was going to be so lovely later, and about the smaller events that would be tied to the annual art festival. As she moved about the room to change out of her prayer robe behind a dividing screen, Urbosa made her way to the large four poster bed with the elegant red drapes and sat down. She stroked the blankets, the decorative one on top was chosen by her dear friend for her baby girl when she visited Gerudo Town twelve long years ago. “How are you really Little Bird?”

Her gentle, yet stern question caused Zelda to fall silent behind her changing screen. “I’m...” She thought of her days, always full to the brim with the same repetitive classes, courtly obligations and fruitless prayers. She came out from behind the screen in her day dress, a less formal version than the elegant long-sleeved blue one she wore to court. Her eyes bore the weight of too much responsibility. “I’m tired.” She walked over to the bed and sat next to Urbosa who wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “I’m tired of having to change into numerous different attire. It’s not fair. Father has much fewer task-related outfits.”

“Hm... I know clothes aren’t the only thing on your mind.”

“Praying is still useless. I don’t understand why I have to keep doing it.”

She let out such a deep sigh that Urbosa baled her up in her lap for comfort. “I’m so sorry Zelda. I wish your mother or I had had the foresight to consider that she might not have been able to teach you.” She stroked Zelda’s hair as she felt her small body starting to shake slightly from finally letting her emotions out.

“I can learn anything else from books, why not this?” A short sob escaped her quivering lip.

“I don’t know vehvi, I wish I knew how to help. You know you can come see me anytime you need to get away from it all.”

Zelda smiled bitterly, “If I could, I would stay with you all the time.”

“Well, we’ll see what we can do about getting you a much needed break during dinner. The way to get what you want is to make a good case to your father in public. That way he can’t refuse or he looks like crappy father of the year.” She wiggled her eyebrows and succeeded in eliciting some giggles out of her girl.

“Feeling a bit better already, I see,” she squeezed Zelda’s arm affectionately. “Now, shall we go and meet the others?”

Zelda nodded and hugged Urbosa tight before sliding out of her lap. “Thank you for the cuddles. They remind me of mom,” she said with a sad smile.

Urbosa stood as well, blinking back the sting in her eyes. She leaned down and gave Zelda a kiss on the forehead. “You remind me of your mom too.”

They made their way to the wing that housed the ambassadorial chambers. These were rather overtly opulent and tried a bit too hard to impress visitors in Zelda’s opinion. On the other hand, some guests had stated what a treat it was to stay in such a lavish room so it couldn’t be all that pretentious. When they entered, they found Urbosa’s entourage in varying states of relaxation and inebriation. A few of them greeted her informally, ‘Hey Chief,’ and ‘welcome back Chief.’

Zelda was intrigued by their lackadaisical manner. Urbosa saw the quizzical look on her little companion’s face. “This is a holiday, Zelda. I don’t expect anyone to be putting on airs. Being proper in court is tiresome enough.”

“I’ll say! I put on so many airs during our arrival, I nearly floated away.” The relatable sentiment came from a jovial, dark-skinned woman with dusty pink hair cut short enough that it was spiking messily all over her head, no doubt to be well out of the way while she was metalworking. She had the largest muscles Zelda had ever seen on a woman and she caught herself staring a bit in awe.

Urbosa chuckled at the joke and introduced them. “Zelda, this is Sivul, Gerudo’s finest artisan. Sivul, Princess Zelda.”

“By the sands, you look just like your mother. Such a dainty little vai.” Sivul crouched down in front of Zelda which brought her eye level, and took one of her small hands into her own in greeting.

“You knew my mother?” Zelda asked incredulously.

“Yes, Princess. She was a lovely artist. I even helped her learn how to make jewelry.” Sivul stood again and inquired with a friendly smile. “Tell me, do you have any favorite crafts?”

Zelda’s cheeks went a tad pink with embarrassment. She wished she could be more impressive. “N-no. I just study a lot, really.”

“Oh, but cultivating the mind is one of the most important crafting we can do. I have to put just as much time into myself as I do my work in order for it to be harmonious.”

One of the other women almost spat out her drink, “Oh, that’s sealshit, Siv.” She immediately became sheepish under Urbosa’s stern look, directing her to watch her mouth in front of the present company. She continued with her comment, albeit more politely, “You barely stop to eat or sleep when you get nose-deep in a project.”

“Excuse you, I do my preparation beforehand. That’s all just part of the process.” She placed her fists squarely on her wide hips and gave her detractor a withering gaze, which included a wink at the end to prove she was not actually offended. She then turned her attention back to Zelda. “Would you like to see what I brought before the unveiling tomorrow?”

Zelda lit up and nodded emphatically. “I would, yes!” She followed Sivul over to a chest that sat upon poles on the ground, ready to be easily lifted later. When Sivul waited a beat to open the lid, Zelda glanced over at her expectantly, excitement written all over her face.

Sivul laughed with an alto timbre rivaling Urbosa’s and said, “Sorry Princess, I do love building the suspense.” She unclasped the latches and opened the curved lid to reveal the most ornate and detailed sword and scabbard Zelda had ever seen. They both sat in a frame, the blade on the higher level and the scabbard below.

“Urbosa, this looks like your scimitar!”

“Yes. Sivul’s teacher crafted my blade. She has surpassed her master, something each instructor always hopes for in their students. Well, good instructors anyway.”

“I’ll definitely count my vote for you, Sivul!” Zelda exclaimed.

Sivul grinned and closed the chest. “Hey now,” she began in mock sternness, “I’ll not be having you playing favorites. You vote for it if you truly feel it is the best after seeing what everyone has to offer. They all worked very hard too.”

Zelda smiled and nodded earnestly. She then looked to Urbosa, “May I stay here with you until dinner time?”

Urbosa tackled her with another hug. “Are you kidding!? I’m not going to let you out of my sight for the rest of the day. We have too much to catch up on!”

~~~

The next morning, Urbosa had to rally her troops after they had caroused much too late into the night. She was even missing a couple, no doubt hunting for available voes... They washed with the basins of hot water delivered to their rooms and donned their sirwals, though the warriors remained in their supportive breast plates and boofy pants. After eating a quick breakfast from the fruits, nuts, breads and cheeses that came complimentary to their stay, they departed to see to the unveiling of Sivul’s scimitar.

Walking briskly, they turned heads as they passed through the halls. Even if Hylians had seen the Gerudo many times, it was hard not to marvel at their impressive physique. Their exceptional height, wide hips and toned midriffs were iconic, and admired by many, as well as the bright red hair most Gerudo shared.

In her haste, Urbosa almost led everyone astray, right past the registry room for the festival. “I could have sworn this used to be at the end of the hall...” she trailed off.

One of the exhibition organizers ran over and lead them to a small queue. “My apologies, Gerudo Chief Urbosa. You’re quite correct, we used to check everyone in down that way before but we’ve actually outgrown the space. Isn’t that wonderful? Participation has increased steadily the past few years.”

“The Queen would be so proud.”

She received a genuine smile and nod in response and was shown to the registry where she pulled Sivul out from lurking behind to do her own paperwork. Once that was all done they were taken to an available space in the courtyards that was undercover, as had been requested on their form. Quite a few sculptures they passed were on display out in the elements, while just as many it seemed, had protection. An empty pedestal awaited the sleek and simple frame that would hold the blade and scabbard. Sivul took it from the chest and held it toward Urbosa asking reverently, “Do you wish to unveil the blade, my Chief?”

Urbosa was amused and crossed her arms coyly. “This is your show Sivul, you do the honors.”

Shhhhiiinnng

Sivul drew quickly and smoothly and smirked with pleasure at the faint ring echoing afterward. It had turned heads and a small crowd gathered to watch her place the two pieces in their frame.

Urbosa heartily clapped her on the shoulder, “Well, you have fun playing Q & A with your fans. I’m going to join the Princess.”

Sivul gave her a reproachful look for being left alone to deal with the crowds but she would not begrudge her leader the free time she most definitely needed, and deserved. She then turned to one of her interested parties, a couple with an infant, who had asked how long it took.

“How long? Time is relative. How long did it take you to make that baby? This blade is my baby. Nine months?! Are you sure it’s finished? Our babies take twelve. Yes, really. I was just kidding, it took me three months- if you don’t count the gathering of materials. No, I meant the blade. Our babies still take twelve months. No, really! ...... and on and on.

Urbosa found Zelda in the castle shrine at her morning devotions. She was standing waist deep in a pool before the serenely smiling Hylia, hands clasped together, bedecked with the heirloom jewelry. Her long hair floated on the surface of the water behind her. Urbosa looked on in sadness between the statue of the Goddess and the small Hylian she supposedly inhabited. The poor girl was so devoid of comfort, never acknowledged by the one she entreated endlessly. The serene smile appeared more and more as a mocking smirk the longer she looked upon it.

Without a second thought, Urbosa silently descended the steps into the pool. As she drew near, the water rippled and made a soft swishing noise, alerting Zelda to her presence. She started to turn but Urbosa spoke softly as she sank to her knees behind the child Goddess, “Don’t let me interrupt, my vehvi.” She wrapped her arms around Zelda and held her to her chest, covering her small hands with her own and resting her cheek on the golden hair. There they stayed for an age, sending silent prayers to the Goddess together. And Zelda was comforted.

Eventually, Zelda needed to attend her classes, so with the promise that they would be together again the moment she was finished, Urbosa went for a walk to dry off and collect her thoughts. Short of taking the Princess away, something she selfishly wished she could do, she had to believe that what little she could do would be enough.

She swung by her chambers to collect some attendants. They would be cross with her if she kept parading around by herself, no matter that she was fully capable. Culture, tradition and appearances were also important. They strolled through the courtyards, viewing a section of impressive wooden sculptures from the Rito before reaching the stables. After passing by the horses, which had a similar but distinct aroma all their own from sand seals, her ears perked to the faint clangs and thumps of fighting followed by a whistle. The training grounds were nearby. She grinned to herself wondering if she would be welcome to observe.

Rounding a stone tower, they crossed an archery range to get to the main field. The area was walled on three sides and the upper levels contained viewing alcoves which would also be used for announcements. She could imagine troops being neatly lined up below, attentive to their commanders, ready to serve Hyrule. She casually joined the small throng of instructors, some of whom did a double take as she appeared next to them.

The eldest, most likely mid to late sixties, recovered first. “G-Gerudo Chief Urbosa, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” He bowed politely. “Forgive me, I’m Captain Auru. At your service.”

“I like watching a good tussle so I thought I’d have a sticky-beak with my free time. I hope I’m not intruding?” She stood casually, hip jutting out above her split skirt, making her muscled torso even more of a prominent feature.

Captain Auru stroked his goatee with mild interest at her statement. “Not at all. We’re just finishing the melee portion before moving on to duels.”

“I see. Please continue.”

He nodded and whistled for the final bout to begin. A dozen or so armored fighters wearing a white tabard with the royal crest entered the roped arena, which served to contain the battle. They carried a combination of their weapons of choice. Some preferred the classic pairing of broadsword and shield while others chose to fight with a two handed claymore or spear. Urbosa watched with interest as a smaller fighter quickly caught her eye. They carried a blade only and were so swift on their feet, they seemed to glide through the fight like water, dodging opponents so they ended up engaged with another, or parrying before back flipping out of reach.

Melees had one goal: to be the last fighter standing. How you got to that point is anyone’s choice, and a few fighters decided they wanted to work together against the slinky one.

While she was here, she had another agenda she could bring up. She deviously addressed Auru, “So Captain, do the soldiers get any time to enjoy the festival or is it all work and no play around here?”

He looked to be between distraction from the proceedings and not wanting to be rude so he leaned in slightly and spoke while still keeping an eye on the battle. “I’m not sure we’re too fussed actually. That’s more of a court and populace thing, give them a chance to come up to the castle every now and then, you know?”

“Hmm,” she replied with loose interest. She looked at the arena again just in time to see the group of four succeed in taking down their smaller competitor, though not without losing three of their number. The survivor proceeded to engage the next available opponent where they were summarily disposed of; all of their strength had relied on teamwork apparently. Not a complete negative, but one should most certainly be able to stand on their own if they were to be a competent warrior.

A loose smattering of applause rippled through the training grounds for the victor and Captain Auru blew the whistle to announce the line up for duels. The list keeper shouted for a five minute break for hydration and toilet and everyone peeled off to wherever they needed to be whether it was the privies, benches or water station.

Captain Auru excused himself momentarily to confer with the instructors and he returned with a gleam in his eye. “Chief Urbosa, my colleagues are quite excited about your presence here today. It’s not often we might get the opportunity to let the students spar against different fighting styles. I wonder, would one of your warriors be willing to step into the ring with us?”

Urbosa grinned with a glint in her eye. This was the perfect opportunity to bargain for what she wanted. If she could rustle up some votes from the soldiers, there was a good chance they’d appreciate the art of a finely crafted blade over some abstract shapes in the courtyards.

“I could be persuaded to enter the ring for a bit of fun myself, Captain.”

He and the fellow instructors responded with varying degrees of shock and excited approval.

“But I have two conditions.”

Captain Auru stroked his goatee again. “Name your price, Chief Urbosa.”

“I pick my opponent.”

“Easily done.”

“And you must give me your word that all of you will attend the festival and vote.”

He turned to look at the other instructors and was met with answers of shrugs and unopposed compliance.

“Right,” she grinned and put her hand on the pommel of the scimitar at her hip, “are there any hard rules I should know about?”

“Please don’t kill our students,” Auru jested. “Ah, the usual. Nothing below the belt. If a limb is ‘struck,’” he emphasized a simulation of it, “then that limb may not be used for the remainder of the battle.” He continued with a few more things before she put up her hand to interrupt.

“Captain, I appreciate you have a way of doing things but did you not want to see the way a Gerudo fights? Or would you have me merely demonstrate your own style to you?”

“Eh, you got me there Chief Urbosa. Right you are.” There was an awkward pause before he continued after clearing his throat. “Well then, not killing our students will work just fine. Please,” he gestured to the field, “choose your opponent.”

“I want the short one.”

“Oh, he’s just a boy still, perhaps-”

“And the most skilled of the group.”

“Uh, yes. He is quite the prodigy. Very well.”

She took to the arena and Auru sent one of the others to collect her choice. His day had gone from monotonous to suspenseful excitement and he couldn’t wait to see how this would pan out. He knew Link was starved for a challenge and he knew his class mates would love nothing more than to see him brought down. The outcome of this should suit both parties quite well no matter how it ended.

The competitors entered the arena and stood a few paces away from one another. The whole area had gone deathly quiet. Usually there was low chatter among the peanut gallery but the two opponents on the duel field today had everyone riveted.

Link saw she wore no armor and took off his helmet, chucking it out of the arena, then went down on one knee. The gesture not only humbled him, but also made him appear even smaller. Her inquisitiveness about him only rose.

“Gerudo Chief Urbosa, you honor me with your presence here today. I hope to learn much from you.”

She drew her blade, “Ha! Let’s have some fun, kid.”

Not a moment after he’d risen, Link was taken aback by her quick movements. The crowd gasped as she attacked without ceremony, lining up her scimitar to connect with his head.

Link quickly rolled out of the way and shot up to his feet, grinning. He’d been waiting for this for so long. He was itching to really fight.

She pivoted in place, following where he’d dodged, kicking up dust as she slashed down. He parried with a surprising strength for his size but she quickly recovered and jabbed.

He escaped with a back flip. She’d seen this move from him a few times already during his earlier bouts and anticipated what she could do next when he returned with a flurry of slashes.This boy was quick, but a bit predictable.

That might have been due to a lack of challenging opponents. He was sussing her out, seeing what she could match. He was focused and calculating; something she did not usually see in Gerudo warriors until they were older.

Finally, she sidestepped his onslaught and rammed her knee into his chest. Link fell back in the dirt but rather than be laid bare to a potential stabbing, he used the momentum of his fall to continue in a backward somersault. He stood and regained his balance.

She gave him a short breather, knowing she’d probably winded him a little. The break was long enough for him to decide that he needed to relieve her of the shield on her back.

She nodded at him as she slowly circled a small distance away. “Crafty, aren’t you.”

Link was struck by an idea. He could try it with her, the move he’d recently discovered while training with his dad. Everyone else he had sparred with never challenged him enough to warrant using it. Would he be able to focus enough?

“Again!” she barked as she ran toward him.

All he had to do was dodge and get behind her... just dodge, and slip past. He took a deep breath through his nose and as it left him her pace slowed before she reached him. He hopped to the side, but rather than take the opening to make a shot, he dashed around and jump kicked the shield up and off her back. He slipped it on and stood there with a smirk as she whipped around with wide eyes.

“How could you possibly-” her face morphed from surprise into a challenging grin, “much craftier than I thought.” She twirled her blade twice in excitement as she tried to work out what he’d done.

Even with just that small bit of practice, he felt he could put everything into his next move. He had always been exceptional at parrying blows, even more so with a shield. However, she now spoke again instead of attacking as had been the pattern of the battle so far.

“Why don’t you come at me for a change?” She stood at the ready, a bend in her knee, curved blade held in a relaxed grip, ready to react to his move.

He had to rethink his approach now. His technique had been defensive, but he now knew where he could improve. This was the perfect time to try his attack a different way, see if he could succeed on the offense.

“Hah!” he kicked the gravel out behind him as he lunged forward, watching her weapon arm closely. As he closed in, Link lost focus and they exchanged blows once more. To avoid another knee to the chest, he flipped out of reach before trying again.

She almost lost sight of him as he came for her a second time. How is he doing that!? She blocked his strike just in time and noticed his disappointment.

He was testing a new technique on her. A wry smile spread from the corner of her mouth and she felt momentarily flattered. She wasn’t going to let him have all the fun though. It was time to show him he still had a long way to go, if only to keep him on his toes rather than bored with their current gawking audience.

The side lines were full of wide eyes and gaping mouths as she pinned the tip of his blade into the sand with a swirling down-thrust of her scimitar. Before he could recover she grabbed the shield he’d stolen with her other hand to keep him close and used it as a conductor for her own final move.

His hair stood on end and he was ejected several feet away when she ran her electricity through his body. It wasn’t nearly enough to cause serious injury but it had certainly ended the fight. She was met with a wave of gasps but shrugged them off as she approached him. “Relax, he’s just a little toasty.”

She reached a hand down and he grasped her wrist firmly, letting her easily pull him to his feet. “You alright, kid?”

He hung on for a tick as he gained his balance in the midst of a sway before looking at her dead serious and asking, “Can you teach me that?”

She burst into a husky laugh. “I’m afraid that attack is a one of a kind specialty.” She leaned in closer to say privately, “But you keep it up with those moves you were pulling, you’ll no doubt be going places.”

#breath of the wild #fanfiction #urbosa #young zelda #young link #pre calamity #Art Festival #Insurrection Recollections Series #snidgetwidgeon scribbles

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