#just to see how much salt i’m packing and normally hold back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artemistorm · 1 year

Note

Prompt ask: Cuddles

Bonus points if it includes Wild, Hyrule, Legend, and/or Ravio or Wolfie 💜

Oops. Here's 1051 words of everyone's favorite chaos duo (and Epona too!) somehow managing mischief even when trapped in an icy sinkhole.

******

"Well this is fun," Wild said, hands on his hips and looked up at the tall and ice-covered walls of the circular pit they were in.

"I wouldn't call being portaled into an inescapable icy sinkhole as fun," Hyrule said.

"At least we got the horse," Wild glanced Epona who made an annoyed horse noise and shook her mane.

"And we got everyone's stuff too," Hyrule said eyeing Epona's saddlebags. "We should look through them and see if there's anything we can use to get out of here like a hookshot or something."

"Good idea, ehehehe, and we have a rare opportunity to see what cool stuff they've got hidden away," Wild said.

Three raided sweets stashes, two explosions, and one weirdly angry bottled bee later and the two boys found nothing that could help them escape their icy prison; annoyingly, the rest of their companions had kept their mobility items on their person for the portal jump.

“I hope everyone else is okay out there,” Hyrule said making a little next out of blankets and clothes from everyone’s bags. “The sky is clear tonight which means it is going to be very cold.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Wild said piling blankets on Epona’s back. “Probably. Hopefully…. They better be.”

“How thick do you think this ice is?” Hyrule tapped a bare patch of dark blue ice that filled the entire bottom of the sinkhole. “It looks thick enough to tolerate a fire, don’t you think?”

“If it can hold the weight of a fully-laden horse I’m sure it’s thick enough for a bonfire, let alone a regular campfire.”

“Oh? Bonfire time? I’ll start setting it up!”

“Don’t get too crazy,” Wild cautioned. “I’d rather not go swimming if we can help it. Also, you don’t happen to have any grass or hay for Epona in your pack do you?”

“Uh, sorry, no. I only have breadsticks, salted ham, and all of Warriors’ candy.”

“Hmm. Alright. Sorry girl, looks like you’re having only apples and carrots for dinner.”

Epona made a horse noise that was the equivalent of “I really don’t mind. Give me all the apples and carrots you got.”

******

Two hours later, Hyrule and Wild were cozied up together in the blanket and clothing nest well fed and sitting in front of the roaring bonfire with Epona standing close behind on her own bed of blankets laid down for her (sorry Legend, they’re your blankets).

“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?” Wild asked. Hyrule sighed.

“Probably a while. The others have no way to know that we’re down here. It’s not like we walked here and left tracks or a trail for Wolfie to follow.”

“I have enough apples for Epona to last two or three days at the most, then we’ll have to start sharing our food with her,” Wild said. “I love you Epona, but I’d rather not give you all the wheat and rice I have, which isn’t very much to start with.”

“I wonder if she likes salted ham,” Hyrule pondered. “Or candy.”

“She probably does,” Wild shrugged. “They say horses are omnivores. Isn’t that right, girl?”

Epona made a horse noise that meant “I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”

“Despite the literal icy prison we’re in, this isn’t so bad,” Hyrule mused. “We’ve got a bigger fire than Time normally lets us make, all the blankets we could ever want, and nobody to fight with over the food. We can eat as much bread and meat skewers and other people’s sweets as we want.”

“You know what? You’re right,” Wild agreed. “Let’s enjoy being in ice jail while we’re here.”

“I hope they don’t find us anytime soon,” Hyrule said. “We’ve only just begun to scratch the surface of exploring what’s in everyone’s packs.”

“Hehe, then let’s get back to it… in the morning,” Wild yawned. “I’m tired and it’s cold.”

“Sure thing,” Hyrule said and nestled even further down into the blankets like a kitten.

******

“Well you guys look cozy,” a voice woke both Wild and Hyrule in the early morning.

“Twilight!” Wild exclaimed disentangling himself from the blanket pile he’d burrowed into. “What are you doing here?!”

“Looking for you two. And Epona. And all our stuff. Which it looks like you took the liberty of exploring.”

“You realize this is an ice-filled sinkhole and we can’t get out of here right?” Hyrule said. “You just trapped yourself down here with us.”

“How do you think I got down here?” Twilight rattled the climbing harness and the rope that connected him to the upper rim of the sinkhole. Sky and Legend waved down at them. Hyrule waved back and Wild gave them a thumbs up.

“Oh yay, we’re saved,” Hyrule said apathetically.

“Why don’t you sound excited?” Twilight asked. “We’re going to fish you out of this hole.”

“Is everyone else alright?” Wild asked.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine. We all managed to find the same hunting cabin and stayed the night there.”

“How did you even find us?” Hyrule asked.

“We saw your smoke signal,” Twilight motioned to the smoldering remains of their bonfire. “You went a little crazy, didn’t ya?” Hyrule giggled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wild said.

“It’s a perfectly ordinary regular-sized campfire,” Hyrule said.

“Neigh,” Epona disagreed.

“Are you two going to get up or just sit there wrapped in blankets like a pair of hibernating bears?”

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” Wild reluctantly stood up and Hyrule groaned and wrapped the blankets around his shoulders even tighter.

“Four’s making berry porridge at the cabin, so if you want some before Wind eats it all, you two had better hurry up,” Twilight said.

“The question is how do we get Epona out of the pit?” Hyrule asked.

“That’s the easy part,” Wild said. “I have horse armor that can teleport the horse. All I—or you or Time—have to do is to whistle the horse-call song and poof! There she is beside you.”

“What? Seriously? That’s so cool!” Hyrule exclaimed.

“Let’s do that then,” Twilight said. “You two get up and pack up and we’ll rappel you up.”

“This has been one short lived vacation,” Hyrule said. “But it was a good one.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Wild agreed.

The End.

#an unexpected ask #ask game #I don't pretend to know anything about horses or horse noises #I remember nothing from my elementary school horse phase #linked universe #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu epona #lu twilight #crack #fluff #stormy writes

80 notes · View notes

australiablog · 2 months

Text

12/7

Today is another long driving day, so we all got up at 5:30. I packed last night so it only took a little bit for me to be ready. I can tell we are going south because it’s getting colder. I've had my jacket on for most of the morning. Nothing much happened, we saw some emus and a kangaroo. We did stop at a massive lake, it was enormous! We all went down to have a look and we had to get over train tracks to get to it. It was a very big salt lake so there was salt all over the sandy beach, it was very cool to see. On our way back there was a train, it was over 1km long. I still get so surprised by how long the trains are here. At 13:30 we stopped at a botanical garden, G asked if I could get her some vegan soup if I was going to the cafe. Last time she was there they had vegan pumpkin soup. Now they only had cauliflower with bacon which was definitely not vegan, while I was at the counter I ordered a scone. It was always my intention to get some food along the way since I only brought snacks. Sam is leaving today and I don’t think one person minds him leaving early. He was sitting on the other side of the row in the bus from me and he was being super disgusting. I’m not sure what’s wrong with him but he had a very gross bag in which he kept spitting. Ick! When we all had lunch at the cafe G drove him to the place he was staying. Pete had called during the drive to book him a bus to Adelaide tomorrow and he had a hotel for the night. I still don’t know what’s wrong with him but I tried very hard not to pay too much attention to him on the ride. We saw so many emu’s on the side of the road today, first you see none and then you can’t get rid of them. We were supposed to drive over the Oodnadatta track, it’s a very long unsealed road but because it rained a lot last week the road was closed. So we had to drive a very long way around it, hence the drive being so long. By the time we were nearly at the end destination of today we were in euro country, which is a sort of smaller kangaroo. We also saw loads of them just sitting next to the road. Today really was a day of spotting animals. We arrived earlier as expected, normally we were going to a talk about the aboriginals here tomorrow but since we were so early we did it today. There was a massive campfire that wr all stood around when John explained the way they live here. Well used to live, they haven’t done the old way of living since the lost generation. This means that in the 30s it was very racist and white oriole basically kidnapped aboriginal children because they were “savage”. He had a sort of incense that was going on the fire and it smelled so good! He explained all about how they used to hunt and live off the land. It was very interesting, I really enjoyed it. At the end he burned a different kind of plant and the smoke of it was supposed to protect you on your travels. The way you were supposed to do was hold your hat in the smoke and then put it on your head, but since I don’t have one I used my hands. Since we are a group we all stood around talking a bit to him and he said they had stargazing in a bit and most of us were really interested in doing this. So we went to the place he described and stood around the new campfire while G cooked dinner at the parking next to it. I was wearing my water shoes because it’s more comfortable on the bus but I was so happy I had put my hiking boots in my backpack and not my big bag, so they were easy reachable. I did regret my ankle socks. I swapped shoes on the parking lot before I went to check out the fire, there were loads of people so everyone was cramped around it, it’s really, really cold here. I stood downwind so I had a lot of smoke but I was so cold I’d rather handle the teary eyes and smelly clothes as stand further and be even more cold!! We are at a really dark spot here without light pollution so you could see the stars so brightly. I know I keep saying this but the stars are so beautiful here, and so many. It’s absolutely incredible.

#australia #solo travel #travel australia

1 note · View note

the-nysh · 7 years

Note

Whats your opinon of kiri//baku and todo//deku?

!!!!! 👀 Oooh, *takes deep breath* so I’ve finally been askedthe big question. (Thank you for courteously using the /s to block the ship names out of the tags) Because I DO have opinionsabout them. I’ve mostly kept them to myself, but since I’ve been prompted, Iwill try to be as honest and thorough as I can. :’)

Disclaimer: If you high-key shipeither of the two, please proceed with caution!

To preface:

If it wasn’t already obvious from the content I reblog (and rave about in thetags), my decisive fav character of the series is Kacchan, and similarly, my otp of the series is with him and Deku(as bakudeku, aka bkdk for short – which is how it’scommonly called on twitter). So going in, that’s my given stance already.

But it wasn’t always this way! :O When I first started theseries I went in pretty cautious, wary, and undecided; I actually never plannedto fall so hard for either the character or the ship (and I rarely ship things tobegin with). That is, until Hori repeatedly bludgeoned me in the face and heartwith all the reoccurring and carefully consistent character development, to thepoint ch120 became the final, decisive nail in the coffin - the point of noreturn for me. :’3 So now, I’m fully invested in seeing how their story pulls through to the end, nomatter what it might become (it doesn’t even need to be shippy). With them thematically established as two sidesof the same coin – on opposite ends of the same spectrum of heroism – the twohalves of All Might who both win and rescue:I want to see how they push each other towards greatness and mature into a pairof the best heroes. It’s a long-term investment of hope and a case of slowburn positive development, in direct (and on purpose!) contrast to its rockyand strained foundations (they ARE immature and emotionally constipated teensafter all), but it’s all been carefully laid out through a steady path ofnarrative foreshadowing. Where the prospects at the end of that path – of mutualsupport, understanding, reconciliation, cooperation, teamwork, trust – arebeautiful and rewarding things that make their ongoing journey of growth worthit. So…for Hori to smash any original expectations I might have had, and makeme fall hard for something I never intended to happen, are examples of whatI consider GOOD writing.

After I realized this, I went and did my research. Which inmy case, is reading up on countless character/relationship meta and fanfics togauge how the fandom sees their potential too. So I am very aware of the multiple sides of existing arguments and the dramathat’s already happened in the fandom (from across both tumblr and twitter). Iknow the western fandom considerably favors kr/bk and td/dk (at least for now), BUT in the eastern fandom,it’s actually bkdk that’s more popular. Hmm, curious why that is?

One of the reasons is partly thanks to the widespread availabilityof fan mistranslations (FA group) that have greatly exaggerated certain characterizations(ie Kacchan), leading to fandom fearmongering and the perpetuation of stigmasagainst the canon development of certain relationships (ie bkdk), which in theoriginal text, were never nearly thatflanderized or as offensive in context to begin with. Include also, adifference in cultural expectations/values, and we get a prickly concoction ofmisunderstandings ready to brew. It’s a poor and unfortunate case of important subtleties/complexitiesgetting lost in translation, while the bad things are blown way out ofproportion, to the point the story’s original intent is sidelined, or worse, canonis deliberately obstructed by translators who already dislike seeing suchcontent (because it’s ‘not their ship’) – so they prevent and hurt othersfrom fully enjoying the progression of the series as the author intended. Peoplecan like what they like (that’s perfectly fine), but in all of my lurking, Ihave SEEN examples of these things (andworse) actively happen, and quite frankly, the spread of this blatant toxicityand compulsive collective ignorance sickens me. So, I choose not to getinvolved with it, and instead focus on the positive.

Because of my preference for meta and faithfulinterpretations of the text (making sure available translations are reliablefor analyzing, for instance), I’ve gathered enough information (andacknowledged enough counterarguments) to make an educated decision for myself onwhat I value most and want to see from the series. Unless Hori veers offotherwise, I’ll stick by that conclusion and enjoy following the series throughto fruition (regardless of what the rest of the opposing fandom might say).

For example, one of the first dedicated and respectful metawriters – back when only the FA scans were available, but who ALSO providedcorrections from the Japanese text where necessary, came to this conclusionabout Deku and Kacchan’s characterizations:

From ryokure:

“Deku is such a super special case that if a fanfichas him and Kacchan in it - no matter the parings - and they don’t have somecase of mutual obsession, I actually consider that OOC.”

Which, after everything I’ve seen of the characters, I can fully concur withthat statement.

MEANING, if the fandom portrays them off alone, together, or involvedin relationships with other characters and they lack this intrinsic magnetism that binds them together (for betteror worse) – if they can somehowfunction completely normal without being influenced by the presence of anotherand magically not even care about each other anymore, then my suspension of disbeliefbreaks. They’re too OOC. (Unless it’s a fic au where they never met or grew uptogether.) These two are TOO canonically wrapped up in their mutual complexesto simply cut ties, wrap up all their unresolved issues with a band-aid,and essentially ignore a core issue of the series for the sake of ‘shipconvenience’ with others. Their canon relationship is too complex to make such simplifiedportrayals of them believable, or even such flimsy ‘solutions’ for their issuesfeasible. Thankfully, we have Hori actively doing all the hard work for us sowe don’t have to worry about such transgressions like that happening in canon. (InHori’s consistent characterizations we trust!)

Now then, with all of THISestablished, I can finally answer your main question: my opinion on kiri/bakuand todo/deku.

Let’s start with todo/deku:

Because believe it or not, when I was still new to the fandom and in my earlyresearch stages, I actually lowkey shipped them and read plenty of fics aboutthem too! I was open to them as a pair, but still undecided and wary because I didn’t know who to ship withDeku: either Todoroki or Bakugou. I saw all the widespread (western) fandomcontent for td/dk, with the apparent foundations for the ship based on eventsfrom the Sports Festival, where Deku ‘saves’ Todoroki and acts as the catalystto allow him to defrost his issues with his father and realize his true power.I thought, ‘ooh there’s something interesting in there worth looking forwardto; I’ll keep an eye on how canon develops their relationship from here.’

Unfortunately…canon didn’t give me anything else substantial to build on. Andin my case, those are foundations I NEED to be fully on board and convinced fora ship. It was the equivalent of fandom hyping me up for something to lookforward to, with me sitting there with a huge smile and my arms raised inanticipation…only for the rest of the manga to leave me dry. It was a hugedisappointment. Because except for a few scattered incidents, like from theStain arc and maybe the recent ‘it’s ok for heroes to cry sometimes too’moment, canon progress for their relationship has been severely underwhelmingand virtually nonexistent. Todoroki has chilled into becoming a supportive (yetstill socially awkward) friend for Deku yes, but even Iida has had more canon incidents of concern for Deku’s wellbeing,and challenges Deku into becoming a better person/hero with their interactions.(And yet, fandom support for Deku and Iida is virtually nonexistent incomparison, because their friendship resembles the camaraderie between bros, Iguess??)

So then I was like, ‘wait, am I missing something here? WHY does the fandomlove td/dk so much, when their canon interactions are so limited, and the onlybig thing that’s happened between them was all the way back in the SportsFestival??’ So, I went and investigated the potential of their relationshipfurther in fanfics (which are quite numerous and popular on a03 I might add).

After taking a look, I began to see trends. Most td/dk fics are heavily skewed in Todoroki’s favor, tothe point of being practically one-sided in character development. The mainconflict in almost all their ficnarratives revolves around solving Todoroki’s issues with his father and comingto terms with HIS powers, leaving Deku as a passive, supporting participant inhelping Todoroki out with his problems. Which, while the two of them could bondtogether over their missing/difficult father issues, after a while this same familyconflict gets old and stale. What else is there? What about Deku’s problems for equality’s sake?He’s the main protagonist! How abouthis difficulties in learning how to make One for All his own too? Ah nope, hecan’t canonically confide in Todorokiabout the secrets of his quirk, now can he. ;) Oh wait. What about his problems with Bakugou? Is the biggest elephant in the room going to be ignored for the sakeof typical couple melodrama, or is my fav character going to be demonized so that Todoroki, the ‘prince’on a white horse, can ‘save’ Deku, the ‘damsel’ in distress, from him?! No way. And THAT is another hugeproblem I have with the ship.

Because in all the fics I’ve read of them, I never once was convinced ofDeku’s feelings for Todoroki. I can understand Todoroki gaining a passing crushon Deku thanks to their fight in the Sports Festival. But Deku? How does heeven fall for him? Just becauseTodoroki is nice and considerate and listens to him? Like a friend? (Deku has Uraraka and Iida forthat too, what makes Todoroki any more special than them in Deku’s life?) Thisties in to my previously mentioned suspension of disbelief and ooc territorynow. Because Deku is not some haplessdamsel in distress ready to be swept off his feet and easily charmed by somepotential suitor; he’s a BAMF with a heroic spirt that’s even feared byBakugou. And these traits are so rarely utilized to their full potential intd/dk fics - Todoroki’s influence rarely even challenges or inspires Deku toBECOME the best he can be to draw out his latent potential. (Iida’s canonicallydone more in that regard thanTodoroki’s ever done.) Again, it feels too one-sided in Todoroki’s favor toimprove as a better person/hero.

Oh yeah, and since Deku became one of Todoroki’s first ‘true friends,’ forTodoroki to fall for him feels like putting too many eggs in one basket,without giving Todoroki the chance tobranch out and make normal/healthy relationships with OTHERS first beforesettling down. He’s a socially awkward kid emotionally repressed by domesticabuse; for him to latch onto Deku, the ‘first’ person he’s finally (andliterally) warmed up to, feels like the budding symptoms of unhealthy copingmechanisms and compensating for Todoroki’s deeper emotional issues. Where it thenbecomes Deku’s ‘responsibility’ to care for the turnout of his wellbeing, whenNO - Deku’s got plenty of his OWN issues to become burdened with someone else’s on top of those. Plus in canon,Todoroki’s doing just fine and is perfectly capable of handling his personal problems onhis own without having to depend on Deku.

Again, it’s all touchy territory that feels like it sidelines the mainintent of the series itself – by branching off into the deep end of Todoroki’sangst at the expense of Deku’s, or worse: simply wrapping everything up with afluffy bow called ‘the power of love.’ Nuh-uh, not only is that immenselyidealistic and unrealistic, but it’s totally not the kind of content I signedup for when I started the series. I’m frankly not interested in delving into thoseoff-tangent topics in opposition to canon, where Deku’s problems are oftensidelined, his characterization compromised, and my fav character (Kacchan) eitherbecomes an exaggerated, antagonizing impediment to their ship or is simplytreated like he doesn’t even exist. (My patience and willing suspension of disbeliefonly go so far.)

In the end, Todoroki’s a supportingcharacter. In a tertiary tier after the protagonist (Deku) and the deuteragonist(Bakugou). Yet in td/dk fics he’s almost always turned into a main protagonistsomehow. I can understand his appeal and why he’s so popular in the fandom, yes(and I like him too!), but there’s a point where this exposure becomes TOO much,the limit to his available canon issues becomes saturated and repetitive, and itultimately becomes so tiring to keepcoming back and addressing the same topics in fanon when canon has alreadymarched on to focus on more pressing issues. I’m more interested in exploring those other things.

So nowadays, whenever I see td/dk content, I go ‘ayy that’s nice (or cute),’and keep on scrolling. It doesn’t bother me, but it doesn’t interest meanymore either. I probably won’t touch anymore fics of them together either;I’ve seen and had enough. I’m actually more receptive to seeing Todorokiinteract and develop friendships with other characters, like Inasa (the wind guy from the rival school)or even Momo for instance. Either of those ships I see around, I’m cool withtoo.

The final line: I don’t ship them (anymore), because canon swayed me over with the more pressing and compelling developments of bkdk.

NOW, it’s time to talk about kiri/baku:

To start, I actually LOVE Kirishima as a character. And I’ve alreadyestablished upfront that my fav character in the series is Kacchan. So whatgives? It turns out their ship has neverbeen on my radar.

Kirishima is a great character, but I’ve only ever seen him as a supportive bro. To EVERYONE in their class. Whichis precisely how Hori designed him: to be a compassionate/empathetic nice guywho bridges the gaps between the class with his vigorous enthusiasm and support(same role that Denki shares, by the way). And he fulfils this role splendidly.But he ALSO has his own insecurities and developing friendships with manyothers in the class – Denki, Mina, and Deku included. All of those people areimportant to him (and I’m cool with all their ships with him too). Kirishimadoes not solely revolve aroundBakugou.

It’s true that near the beginning of the series, Bakugou was an angry loner,Kirishima trailed after him on his own accord, and after seeing his version of‘manliness’, decided to stick by him and support him, because Kiri saw thepositives of his character that ‘no one’ else bothered to see. (NOT true; Dekuhas always seen and admired Kacchan’spositive traits since they were children.)And so what’s canonically established is a budding friendship where Kirishimafulfils his given role to bridge gaps (whenever Bakugou strays away from theclass), essentially working as a rubber band plot device, and as a secondperspective – aka a fresh lens, for the audience to view Bakugou’s positivequalities.

All of this I’m cool with. I actually enjoyseeing their canon interactions and the kind of fun, slapstick way they bounceoff each other. (I even like the concept of Dragon!Kiri too!) BUT, it’s whenfanon starts twisting their canon relationship into shippy territory, that’swhere things start getting…ugly, at least for me.

Remember, I’ve always only seen Kirishima as a supportive bro, and I MEAN that. They have the samered eyes. The same style of spikey hair. The same pumped up mannerisms whenthey get going. Too many similarities that rub me the wrong way when put in aromantic context. (The only difference is that one of them is the soft-hearted ‘niceguy,’ and the other is the outwardly prickly ‘asshole.’) To me, to ship them feels like the equivalentof taking the parallel ends of two polarized magnets: you can manually forcethem close together, but in the end, they cannot touch because the same ends ofmagnets naturally repel. Now, flip one of those magnets around (aka turn it intoDeku), and boom, the opposite ends attract with explosive force. And THAT ishow bkdk feels to me in comparison.

However, the kr/bk fandom doesn’t stop there. I know there exists plenty of fics about them, but I’ve never read any, and frankly, I never will, not even for curiosity’ssake. Because from the overabundance of otherfandom content, I already know what their ship dynamic is about. And it doesnot appeal to me at all.

Remember how I said Kacchan is my favorite. I do not appreciate when thefandom warps him into either a demonized or castrated caricature of himself –aka when they turn him into someone he most definitely is NOT, all for the sakeof a ship. Or worse: when they use Kiri’s relationship as a means of changingBakugou into a character they findmore appealing. NO. Even more worse: when they treat Kiri’s whole character as awalking plot device for ALL of Bakugou’s positive character development. Fuckno! Kirishima doesn’t deserve this dehumanizing treatment by the fans, andneither does my fav, getting subjected to this…betrayal to his whole character.

What am I talking about? When fans insist that Kiri is the ONLY personBakugou can be ‘nice’ to, outright forsaking or ignoring the canon developmentseither of them have with other characters – what about Denki, the rest of the‘Bakusquad’? Or Deku? Remember my dislike for ignoring the elephant in the room back in my spiel about td/dk?Well here, it’s infinitely times worse.

Because Kiri does not become aconvenient narrative replacement to ‘solve’ all of Bakugou’s problems or themeans to correct his bad behavior. It’s not even Kiri’s business orresponsibility to do so! (Same deal if Uraraka is shipped in Kiri’s place.) Hispresence doesn’t challenge Bakugou’s current conduct or world views to improvehimself as a better person, OR actively affect his drive to become the best hero.At most, Kiri endures the brunt of Bakugou’s outbursts when they happen(because he can harden with his quirk, he can ‘take’ it, and their banterbecomes ‘humorous’ and ‘harmless’…no, it absolutely does not) and amicably slides off any further implications with a ‘heyman, that’s not cool’, or excuses/accepts it with a ‘it’s fine because he’s justbeing himself.’ Now we have a situation where Kiri becomes a passive ‘butt-monkey’to Bakugou’s whims and actually enableshis unacceptable behavior to persist. And Bakugou somehow becomes fully invested in a single confidant who babies andpicks up after him (how the heck? no way would he allow himself to get ropedinto a relationship like that, if any at all. He’s strong and independent enoughto handle himself fine.). Even when it’s portrayed where Kiri is the ‘only’ oneBakugou’s nice to, they’d exist in a vacuum tunnel, sealed off from the influenceof others, and become a spiraling fester-hole of static development. None ofthese prospects are the ‘healthy’ long-term results that fandom seems to claimthey are. Tell me, if Bakugou was reallyan abusive character, would his behavior magically ‘fix’ itself simply thanksto Kiri’s passive influence or ‘the power of his understanding kindness and love’?The answer is a resounding and definite NO. The only person who can canonically stand up to Bakugou’s behavior (andnot brush it off), fundamentally challengehis world views and complexes, match him in equal and opposite intensity with themutual drive to be the best, and receivethe full extent of his turbulent feelings, is Deku.

This is what I’m referring to when I say fandom often ‘ignores the elephantin the room,’ because THIS (Deku and Kacchan’s relationship) is an established,ongoing and important core issue of the series itself, that many shippers wouldrather sideline for the priority, current gratification, and fluffy convenienceof an opposing ship. Aka, simply slap them together with the first nice friend theymeet (in both Todo and Baku’s cases, it’s the ‘too many eggs in one basket’problem again…), who will solve all their problems and work to ‘change’ theminto better people…somehow? No, that’s the case of unrealistic, wishful thinking bad writing andtaking the easy way out when something -the elephant in the room- is too challengingand complex to tackle head on. Thankfully, Hori IS tackling their story head onas purposely intended, so I don’t have to worry about canon jumping the sharkon the progress of their relationship.

So, instead of Kiri being shipped with Bakugou, I much prefer him as a supportingcharacter (a supportive bro!!) who helps ease Bakugou into social/emotionalsituations that he’d normally avoid (which is how Hori originally designedhim??? to bridge those gaps -aka Bakugou’s loner distance - in the class) I’veread plenty of bkdk fics where Kiri becomes the mvp BECAUSE of his natural abilityto do this! With him as a much-needed wingman, voice of empathetic reason, and trustedsecond opinion who Bakugou can confide in to help confront his chronicemotional constipation over Deku. Shipperscan claim that Kiri helps Baku come to terms and become receptive to ‘softer,’ affectionatefeelings when they’re together, when it’s actually the opposite: Kiri becomes astepping stone for Bakugou to learn how to ‘make friends’ with other people whenthey’re apart. ‘Other people’ meaning: Denki, the ‘squad’, Todoroki, the restof the class…and most importantly, Deku.Let my son -Kacchan- learn how to form healthy, genuine relationships withpeople again, so he can gain the necessary experience and maturity to reproach hislifelong treatment of Deku and decide to patch up their relationship on his own terms. This, I feel, is a much more satisfyingoutcome and effective use of Kiri’s character, both in his involvement withBakugou and for the long-run benefit of the series itself.

But instead of seeing it this way, much of the (western) fandom overexaggerates the importance of Kiri and Baku’s relationship, to the point it notonly overshadows the content of other ships, but obfuscates the actual translated GEN contentof canon itself. (WHY!?!) I’m not even going to touch the propensity, hypocrisy, and irony of their shippers to harassand bully others for their opposing shipping preferences (that’s a whole other can of worms). Overall,it’s gotten so bad and obnoxiously rampant that I’ve been forced to block the ship tag for my own sanity and enjoyment of theseries. The ONLY time it’s ever beenrequired for me to use the blacklist function here, and that’s saying something.

Therefore: I support their friendship as supportive bros, but kr/bk as a ship was never on myradar. I’ve never shipped it, and I will notbecome interested in their potential as a pair. I used to be ok with seeing fan content of them around…until thefandom essentially and unfortunately soured it into a notp for me. Welp!

And there we have it, my full opinion on both ships. I hope that satiatesanyone’s curiosity on the matter, as so far I’ve had plenty of personal reasonsto stay in my own lane and only show my avid support for bkdk. This I’ve confidently decided and I will continue todo so, for as long as I’m invested in the series.

For some further reading and similar informed opinions:

http://explodo-smash.tumblr.com/post/165154054112/not-to-pit-ships-against-one-another-but-i

http://explodo-smash.tumblr.com/post/163895267877/why-do-you-ship-bakugou-and-deku-if-its-abusive

http://tinyshinysylveon.tumblr.com/post/168731953134

https://punkbakugo.tumblr.com/post/170514358890/do-you-think-that-the-fandom-over-exaggerates

Also related: my opinions about Kac/chako. And Izu/Ocha.

Edit: now cross-posted on a03

#Anonymous #replies #bnha #bkdk #meta #shipping #rom it’s time to bring out our salt shakers because it’s PARTY TIME 8D #(whoever makes it thru the nearly 4000 words gets a cookie :'D)#honestly i never expected to get an ask about this but time makes it inevitable i suppose :')#therefore i put in both the time and honesty to speak for myself and other bkdk supporters #my opm followers are welcome to check this monster out too #just to see how much salt i’m packing and normally hold back #(this will not become a regular occurrence - unless i'm explicitly asked for more of my opinions on the matter)#anyway for those with similar solidarity: enjoy! :)

841 notes · View notes

bubbleteaimagines · 4 years

Text

He cheats and gets someone else pregnant

Haikyuu Boys Drabbles

The one where you finally realize your worth and don’t forgive a cheater

SUNA RINTARO

It was inevitable, he supposed. You weren’t a dumb person- you’d figure it out soon enough. You’d pick up on the signs- notice how much he’s been going out lately and staring at his phone. Laughing at things you hadn’t sent him, becoming distant, slowly but surely.

Suna knew you’d find out.

He just wasn’t expecting it to be soon.

He had come home one evening and took a shower like normal. While he washed up, he made the terrible mistake of leaving his phone in the kitchen, thinking that there was no way she’d text him. Their relationship was dwindling, after all. Suna was beginning to let the guilt get to him.

After 3 long months, he finally realized what he had wanted. He wanted you, forever and always. He wanted to marry you and spend the rest of his days traveling and experiencing new things with you.

Unfortunately though, he figured it out too late. A boys mistake, thinking that the grass was greener on the other side. And he’d soon pay the price for that wishful thinking.

While you were cooking dinner, you couldn’t help but notice how often his phone was going off. It kept dinging every few seconds, quickly causing you to become irritated.

Suna’s phone never went off that much, and so you thought surely it must be the boys. They probably added him into a group chat, you figured.

Oh how wrong you were.

The minute you walked over to the device and picked it up, you could truly feel your heart break. Searing pain burst through you like a rocket, a gasp leaving your lips as you scrolled through the messages.

8:53 PM

Unknown: Suna? Do you think we could talk?

Unknown: I know you said that you were going back to Y/N, but I...I’m pregnant. And it’s yours

Undeniably, you were shocked and confused. Pregnant? Who was this that was texting his phone? And why the hell did she think she was pregnant by your boyfriend?

A sickening feeling began to bubble in your stomach. Putting the phone down, you clenched your fists and took deep breaths.

In and out, Y/N. In and out.

Surely there was an explanation for this, right? You’d ask Suna as soon as he got done showering, and he’d laugh and tell you how this was all a misunderstanding. Some prank by Atsumu, wanting to get him back in his own cruel way.

But...

One look at his face, though, and you knew everything.

“Tell me you didn’t,” Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at Suna, his eyes widened as he looked at the phone in your trembling hands. Once again, it pinged, but you didn’t even have the energy to look. The only thing you were focused on was your heavy breathing, and the fact that you were becoming light-headed as Suna stepped forward.

“Y/N, baby, I can explain.”

As soon as those words left this lips, your entire world shattered. Letting out a sob, you dropped the phone and used your hands to cover your mouth in horror.

“So you did.”

Suna became panicked as soon as you started crying, holding onto the kitchen table to keep yourself from falling over. The pain that you felt was indescribable, not to mention the absolute betrayal. You had given everything up for Suna- and he repayed you like this?

“Y/N/N, please,” Suna was begging as he moved closer, trying to embrace your crying figure in his arms but you pushed him away, sudden anger taking over you.

“Don’t touch me!” Suna flinched as your damn near threw him off, backing up so far from him. The look in your eyes nearly killed him as you made eye contract, “I don’t want your filthy hands on me now that I know where they’ve been!”

“Y/N...-”

“Shut the fuck up Suna!”

You could no longer control yourself as rage began taking over your body, slowly but surely replacing the tears. The more you processed it - the more you looked at that bastards face and realized that he had went and knocked someone up while you were at home, cooking his dinner - the more infuriated you became.

“I cannot fucking believe you. Like are you serious right now?! I spend all day, all fucking day waiting for you Suna. I cook your food, I run you baths, I do everything I can to make your life less stressful and then you go and do this shit?”

“Baby just listen me, it’s not like that, okay?Whatever you saw- it’s in the past! Me and her- it meant nothing. I realize that now. It’s me and you baby- just us. That’s all I want,” Suna felt tears trailing down his cheeks as he desperately pleaded his case. Desperately grabbing at you, trying to hold you as if that would make everything okay. As if a simple “I’m sorry,” could fix what he broke.

Instead, you found yourself laughing bitterly and fought the urge to smack him in the face. No, you decided you’d have more dignity than that. You’d pack your stuff, peacefully, and leave this asshole here to rot.

“Whatever.”

That was quickly decided in your mind and within seconds, you were shaking your head, scoffing as you pushed passed him and practically ran to your shared bedroom.

“Wait-! Y/N, what are you doing? No, no, no, no!” Suna panicked even more when he followed you and saw that you were hurriedly packing your stuff in a suitcase. It was messy, and you barely had half of your shit but you decided that it’d do. At least until right now. At least until...well, you didn’t really know anymore.

You and Suna, you guys were supposed to be each other’s forever. You were supposed to be endgame, but as it turned out, Suna ruined that before you could even get a ring.

You scoffed again at the prospect of ever marrying him. Now, you began to think about why you even wanted him in the first place. How did you not notice the signs? The lack of effort for weeks until Suna suddenly warmed up again and began treating you like you were his world.

How did you not catch on? How did it completely slip your mind that you were dating a cheater, until the facts suddenly smacked you right in the face?

“What does it look like I’m doing, Rintaro,” You rolled your eyes, zipping the suitcase and then booking it to the bathroom. You quickly grabbed your body wash, all your hair products and then your toothbrush. You lazily threw them in a another bag and then stood up, glaring at Suna who tried to block you from exiting the door.

“Move,” You stared him down, venom lacing your words. “I don’t fucking have time for this.”

“Baby, please,” You flinched as he reached out to touch you, to stroke your cheek with the same hands that had touched her. They were slightly wet, presumably from wiping his tears away, but all you could think about was that you weren’t the only one he had been coming home to. You weren’t the only one he had been fucking and touching.

The thought made you absolutely sick. You were sure that if you didn’t get out now, then you’d puke all over your- his expensive furniture.

“You have to listen to me,” Suna silently cried, his body shaking as he stood there, begging for the one person he needed in his life to stay. “I told you- she means nothing. I don’t want anything to do with her, I only want you, Y/N.”

“And the baby?” Dammit. You couldn’t help yourself. Once again, your anger began to fade as tears gathered in your eyes.

Suna had a child. He had a fucking child with some stranger he’d known less than six months. She was carrying his blood, something that was supposed to be your moment. You were supposed to give him his first child. You were supposed to be the one he shared that part of life with, not her.

“I- what?”

From the looks of it, you’d almost think that Suna didn’t know. His eyes were wide, his whole body stopping as he stared at you incredulously.

And then it hit you.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t even know that she was carrying his baby. He was completely clueless. Both of you were blindsided.

At this, you couldn’t help it. You did laugh, a bitter sound that sounded almost like you were mocking him.

“Wow Rintaro. How fucking stupid could you get?” You let out a watery chuckle, shaking your head as a tear ran down your face. “If you’re gonna cheat and fuck someone else, then at least be smart enough to wear a condom.”

“But I...that’s impossible,” Suna whispered, mostly to himself. “I don’t...I mean she can’t possibly...how did you...?”

“She was blowing up your phone while you were in the shower. How did you think I found out?” You gave him a fake smile. “For someone that doesn’t like putting in a lot of effort, you sure did put a lot into making sure you fucked this relationship up. And then your own life too.”

You hated to say it, but you silently enjoyed the way Suna was going to suffer. At the very least, it was absolutely what he deserved for cheating in the first place. Now, his life was probably going to be ruined. His career, his dreams, everything he had planned...

It was gonna go down the drain.

And you for one were grateful he wasn’t dragging you down with him.

“I...” Suna was at an absolute loss for his words. His whole body slumped, seemingly going numb as he just stayed in the doorway, looking shocked. It gave you the perfect opportunity to push past him, a small smirk on your face despite the searing pain in your heart.

You knew it was serious when he didn’t even try to stop you when you opened the front door.

“I left your phone on kitchen floor. Maybe you should call her. I’m sure you’d like to know more, seeing as it is yours. For your sake, I hope it’s a bouncing baby boy. That’s what you always wanted, right?”

You spoke one last time, making sure to rub salt in the wound before taking a final glance at the man you loved.

He looked broken, a sheer sobbing mess as he still stood in your bedroom door. A part of you couldn’t help but feel bad. You couldn’t help but want to go over and embrace him, dropping everything and tell him that things were gonna work out.

That was the part of you that still loved him.

But the other part...

The other part of you told you that it’s what he deserved. He cheated, and now he has to live with the consequences. Loosing you, and becoming a father at the age of 20.

That was the part of you that gave you the extra push. That was the part of you that gave you the strength to close the door, forever walking away from the man that broke you and the empty house that held all of your dead dreams.

——————————— ☁️ ——————————

BOKUTO KOUTARO

You didn’t believe it. Or more like, you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t wanna shatter your fantasy world, one that you had been living in for four years.

You didn’t want it to break, because if it did...

You didn’t know what you were going to do.

For the last four years Bokuto had been your world. Your absolute rock, your sunshine on a cloudy day. He made you laugh, he made you feel welcome and special like nobody else had before.

Surely...your Bokuto wasn’t capable of this. Surely didn’t...he couldn’t have...

You didn’t even wanna think about it. Bile rose up in your throat every time you thought about it...his lips on hers. Caressing her and holding her the way he was supposed to only hold you.

You didn’t wanna think about it, but yet-

You had no choice as you stared at the pregnant woman before you.

“I’m sorry,” She had tears in her eyes as she sat on your couch, sobbing while simultaneously holding her belly. While holding his baby.

She had come to you only a few hours before, taking you by complete surprise. Never in your life did you ever think you’d come face to face with your boyfriend’s baby momma.

But that’s exactly what had happened.

Apparently, she and Bokuto had both had a one stand a few months ago. It was when he had traveled to Tokyo for a game and you stayed behind because you had school.

It was the one weekend you weren’t there to support him. One weekend...and you had lost him forever.

“It’s not...it’s not your fault,” You told her somewhat awkwardly, although you didn’t really mean it. She had slept with your boyfriend, after all. And now she was pregnant, claiming the baby was 100% his.

That wasn’t even the worst part though.

The worst part was that you couldn’t even be mad at her, because she didn’t know. It was a one night thing. She had told you Bokuto had left in tears the next morning, rambling on about how she meant nothing and that he had you to come home to.

She claimed that he regretted it the minute he realized what happened. Crying out about how he was going to propose and then rushing out without so much as a goodbye.

Oh how stupid he was to name drop you.

You almost wished he hadn’t, because that was how she had found you. After finding out that she was pregnant, she tried to reach out to Bokuto only to realize that he was telling the truth. He’d been with you for four years.

But did that really even mean anything anymore?

“It’s just- I just-” The girl shook her head. “I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. If I had known...if I had any other choice...”

“Actually, I’m sort of glad you reached out to me. Thank you for that. That was good on your part, seeing as I doubt he would have told me,” You smiled numbly, not capable of feeling anything at the moment.

It was like...your entire body was on shut down mode. It had become numb, desperately trying to block out the pain you were sure that was coming. And you, for one, were absolutely grateful. You didn’t wanna think... you didn’t even wanna fathom how broken you were gonna be.

So you didn’t. Instead you kept your thoughts quiet and relished in the numbness.

“You know...” You laughed bitterly, sadly shaking your head as you sighed, “Bokuto’s always wanted a kid. He kept begging me a few weeks ago to have one, but I said no. We’re both so young, you know? We had our whole lives together.”

You hadn’t meant to make her cry even more, but that’s exactly what your words did. They cut a knife through this random girl’s heart, causing her pain that she had stolen that from you. Bokuto, he had taken that from you as well.

“I’m sorry,” Once again, she apologized, but you weren’t much focused on that. Instead, your attention snapped towards the front door as you heard keys jingling outside. With a sharp push, your stomach dropped.

Bokuto was home.

“Hey hey hey! Babe whose car is that-”

Bokuto’s smile suddenly dropped as he walked into the scene, your dull eyes and the girl’s tearful ones ones trained on him. Immediately, his whole demeanor began to crumble down and he nervously looked between the two of you, his shoulders dropping.

“...outside. What’s this?”

“Bokuto, I believe you know her,” You were eerily calm as you pointed towards her, showing no emotion as Bokuto’s eyes flickered to her stomach. “This is Kayla. From Tokyo, right? I think you guys have much to discuss.”

Bokuto was at a loss for words as you rose from the couch, gesturing for him to take your seat. But instead of listening, he decided to make things difficult and run after you like a lost puppy as you made your way to the bedroom.

“Babe, babe wait! Y/N, please baby I can explain. I can explain, I can explain, I swear! Just let me, just please let me-”

“Bokuto,” You stopped him, holding up your hand and shaking your head. “I’m not in the mood, really. Just go talk with her alright? She came all this way to find me, so it’s rude not to.”

“But baby-”

“Go,” You suddenly became firm, gritting your teeth as you stared him. For a second, you took a small pause, and then Bokuto heard the words he never wished to hear his in life. “And don’t you ever call me that ever again, Koutaro.”

“K-Koutaro...?” Bokuto stuttered slightly, reeling back at the use of his first name. “But baby...y-you never call me that. Ever.”

“Oh yeah?” You couldn’t help but laugh on how clueless he was. I mean honestly, you never thought that Bokuto was stupid but now...“Well what the hell else am I supposed to call you? Read the fucking room Bokuto. Your pregnant fucking mistress is sitting on my couch, crying her eyes out and you’re worried about me calling you by your first fucking name? Get a god damn grip.”

For the first time that day, emotion began peaking out from your eyes. Pure anger bubbled up inside of your body, finally manifesting after holding it in for so long.

It felt good, in your opinion, to finally feel something. A delayed reaction, sure, but late was better than never.

“B-But-”

“Shut up,” You rolled your eyes at his trembling form. “I don’t wanna hear anything else from you. So go talk to her. Figure your shit out while I pack mine.”

“No!” Panic was evident in his voice as he suddenly grabbed your arms, preventing you from entering your bedroom. Shocked, you siteuggled in his embrace but Bokuto was extremely strong.

“What the hell? Let me go!”

“Y-Y/N! Baby y-you can’t leave me! You can’t! What about our plans? What about forever and always, you and me?”

“Did you think about that before you got drunk and fucked her?” You snapped harshly, causing him to whimper. “Exactly. So don’t come pulling that bullshit out on me, Bokuto. You’re the one that ruined that.”

“But-” At this point, he was searching for something, anything to make you stay as you shoved him off and then stormed in your shared room. “But baby I- we had this whole plan...I was gonna propose! Please, I...I even got the ring! Here I’ll prove it to you!”

While you were busy running around the room throwing all your stuff together, Bokuto suddenly dashed to the kitchen and retrieved a box he had been storing for a special occasion. He completely ignored the girl that was sitting on his couch, not even sparing her a second glance as he rushed back to you and dropped to his knees.

“See?” He hurriedly opened the box and desperately grabbed your hand, slipping the shiny diamond on before you could even protest. “I had it made for you, Y/N! Pure diamond, princess cut. It’s even engraved with your name baby! Please...”

You had to admit, you wanted to break down as Bokuto began to cry, looking awfully small as he kneeled by your feet. To make matters worse, he kept kissing your hand and mumbling tearful apologizes that yanked at your heartstrings.

By now, your initial exterior had began to crumble. Pain began to surround your heart, squeezing it so bad it almost felt like you were burning. A swell of tears gathered in your eyes, and you almost, almost gave in.

You almost sank to your knees and cried with him, almost pulled him into your arms because you didn’t wanna let go. You loved Bokuto, you truly did, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with him.

He was a good man, that probably made an honest mistake. He was everything you had ever wanted. And you were so tempted...so tempted to give in. Until you realized that you deserved better.

“I’m sorry,” Sniffling slightly, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and shook your head. “But I need to go. I can’t stay here anymore Bokuto...you ruined this. You ruined us, and now you have a woman in there carrying your child. You have the family you’ve always wanted. Don’t ruin that too.”

Hastily, you leaned down to press a bitter kiss on his forehead and then stood back up. Bokuto sobbed as he watched your figure retreat, standing high despite the heartbreak.

It was then that he realized that even though you were letting him go, you’d be just fine. You’d pull yourself together eventually, you were strong like that. You didn’t need him, but god, what about him?

He wasn’t sure if he could survive without you. He could barely even breathe and you hadn’t even walked out yet.

Was this what it was going to feel like from now on? Empty, hollow...meaningless?

“Please.”

One last time, he cried out of you. He begged you to stay.

But you knew you deserved better than that.

“I’m sorry.”

And with that, you left him behind. Forever.

#suna x reader #suna angst #bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #suna rintaro #bokuto koutaro #hq x reader #hq angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

3K notes · View notes

lazuliquetzal · 2 years

Text

other deleted jokes from dotf

[Dawn of the Fourth is a fanfiction distributed by LazuliQuetzal and licensed under a Creative Nonsense Non-Commercial--]

OKAY so these bits are too short to warrant their own solo post, so I'm just gonna lump 'em all here.

you have NO clue how much stupid I was holding back for this fic.

1. Forbidden Noodle Incident

“But we’re not siblings,” Time said. “The last time we tried to tell people that we weren't related, somebody tried to kill you for being a child cult leader,” Wind said. “So we’re family, now.”

2. Legend Is Edgy

Legend scowled at Wild. “You did not just call me edgy.” “‘Boo hoo, I’m a lonely badass made of whining and sarcasm,’” Wild said, in a mockery of Legend’s accent. “‘Don’t touch my stuff! Everything I own can kill you in new and surprising ways!’” Hyrule choked on his spit. “Okay,” Legend said, laughing. “Fair enough. I don’t sound like that, though.” “You absolutely do,” Warriors informed him.

3. Wild Likes Potatoes --

Up ahead, something was forming out of the salt. It was a monster unfamiliar to all of them: several feet tall, vaguely humanoid. And worse, there were many of them. Right on cue, a flock of vultures flew in from the tree line and began to circle over the salt flat. The heroes drew their swords. “Okay, we’ve got time,” Warriors said, adjusting his grip on his weapon. He squinted out at the approaching creatures. “Salt monster, salt monster. What hurts salt?” “Potatoes,” Wild said. “I—what.” “If you have over-salted food,” Wild explained. “Toss in some potatoes. Lemon juice or vinegar would also work, but I’m a fan of the potato solution myself.” “Champ, if you find a useful way to incorporate potatoes into this fight, I will take all your night watches for the next two weeks.”

4. The Climactic Fight Could Have Been Much Worse [part 1]

"When you fight Ganondorf," Wind croaked, drained of energy, "make sure you get everything right the first time." The kid blinked at him. "I... already did that," he said. Wind whipped his head up. "What?" "I fought Ganondorf already," Time said. "He's gone." "But--you're a baby," Wind said, intelligently. "You can't be the Hero. I heard that the Hero has an eight-pack. That he's shredded."

5. The Climactic Fight Could Have Been Much Worse [part 2]

"You good?" Time asked, running to his side. He helped Wind straighten up and inspected his throat with a sharp eye. "Does it look like I'm fine?!" Not-Legend snapped, clutching his toes. "Literally, why would he be talking to you," Wind wheezed.

6. The Climactic Fight Could Have Been Much Worse [part 3]

“It’s not healing,” Time said, voice rising in pitch. “Sailor, why isn’t it healing? Why isn’t it healing?!” “Go smash a pot,” Wind ordered, biting his panic down. "You ever wonder why we smash pots?" Sky mumbled. "Isn't that weird?" "Hurry up!" Wind ordered, pushing Time away. "We're losing him!"

7. Nothing is original, I am a Meme

"Sorry!" Wind blurted. His ears burned. "It's the authority issues! But I think--we had a baby for five days. And it was--" daunting, panic-inducing, terrifying "--annoying as hell to see him do things." "He's eleven, so shut the fuck up."

8. Remember when Wind taught Baby Time the word 'fuck'? Wouldn't it be funny if that affected his vocabulary when he went back to being a normal adult

"I fought Ganondorf, too! So, if you could tone down the whole 'listen to me, I'm the leader' thing--" "Sailor, Time said, cutting him off. "The reason we don't keep your suggestions in mind is not because you're a kid. It's because you never give us a fucking explanation."

#lazuli writes #dawn of the fourth lu #i cut all three of the climactic fight scene jokes in order to justify keeping the cannibalism callback. you're welcome.#lazuli talks

144 notes · View notes

messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Moony Wants, Moony Gets | R.L

Paring: Young!Remus Lupin X Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Summary: Moony has a natural wanting for his mate making his possessiveness visible the closer it gets to the full moon.

He was always jealous. Blame it on the wolf in him, if you will, but Remus Lupin was highly possessive. Especially over what’s his - maybe not even what’s his but what he wants. She was gorgeous and his perfect mate—long tuffs of h/c hair and gleaming e/c eyes that glittered in the limelight. There was one problem with her, though—one major flaw in her mess of perfection.

Y/n L/n, cunning, ambitious, resourceful, and charismatic.

That was the problem. Y/n was a Slytherin, and Remus was a half-blood Gryffindor. To make matters worse, her closest friend was Regulus Black - Sirius Blacks brother. Remus’ best friend's brother. But Remus couldn’t help it. Her voice was like a siren's call, and her beauty was a rival to Aphrodite, but she had the wisdom of Athena. Y/n was a perfect balance of everything.

Closer to the full moon, his possessiveness became more of a problem. Sirius was noticing the low growl that would erupt from Remus whenever someone stepped close to Y/n. James saw the lingering glares left on any male within a six feet distance of her. Even Peter observed his green eyes turn a shade darker as if someone mixed black paint into his usually bright eyes.

Y/n sat at the Slytherin table, a cup of coffee beside her as she spoke intently with Regulus. Meanwhile, a Gryffindor across the Great Hall was glaring daggers at the younger Black brother's head. Sirius nudged him, grabbing his attention.

“Mate, you’re growling again.” Sirius whispered, and Remus’ cheeks turned pink, “Am not.”

James gave an unconvincing grin, “Mhm, totally.”

“I was not growling.”

“I think you were.” James replied, “Definitely was.” Sirius added.

Remus sighed, pushing his plate away to lay his head on the table, “What’s got Moony all wound up?” James queried, Remus, deadpanned looking at the laughing girl across the room.

“I think I know.” Sirius simpered, “Do you now? Don’t be a tosser.” James stated teasingly.

“Turn around. Slytherin, talking with Reggie.”

He turned and looked back at Remus with his jaw dropped, “No- fucking- way.”

“What?”

“She’s the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, you tosser!”

“Oh…”

James snorted, “Yeah, oh.”

“Looks like Moony found his mate.” Sirius winked, and Remus groaned, “Shut up about it, will you?”

“Never.”

It felt weird. James wouldn’t shut up about how brilliant Y/n was, how the Slytherin’s Quidditch team was able to make plays that no one else would’ve even thought about. Sirius wouldn’t stop offering to talk to Regulus to see if maybe he had any intel on her. Strangely enough, Peter was silent but had a guilty look on his face. Guilty sufficient for Remus to comment.

“Why do you look guilty, Wormtail?” Remus inquired, and Peter's cheeks flushed pink, “She- Y/n isn’t- um….”

“What do you know that we don’t, Peter?” Sirius queried, his voice harsh, “She isn’t what you think. That’s all I’m saying.” Peter stammered out nervously.

James tilted his head at the blue-eyed boy, “And you know this how?”

“She’s my ex-girlfriend.”

“Woah! Hold on a second!” Sirius exclaimed in shock, “When did this happen?!”

“Back in fourth year.” Peter informed, “She seemed nice enough until you start to get serious with her. Y/n’s sharp-tongued and extremely ill-tempered.”

Sirius sniggered, “Sounds like Moony.”

“Oi!”

“Sorry!”

“So, what does this mean for Remus?” James questioned further, “It doesn’t mean anything. Just be careful. I don’t care if you date her. Means nothing to me.” Peter replied, putting his hands up in innocent.

Remus stared at Peter with curiosity swirling. How much did he truly know about Y/n? How did he manage to date her? Nonetheless, it didn’t mean anything to Remus because Moony wanted her. What Moony wants is what Moony gets. Later that evening, after prefect patrol, he padded into the library to dismiss any working students. But there were only two students inside. They sat in a secluded corner of the library. Regulus Black and Y/n L/n.

Was it envy? Was it jealousy? He didn’t have time to ponder. Y/n had her head laid on Regulus’ shoulder and both her arms wrapped around his one arm. Regulus had leaned his head on top of hers, wavy black hair intertwined with her h/c hair. Both their eyes were closed, apparent they were asleep—potion and Transfiguration books placed on top of the wooden table along with an open sketchbook.

What was he supposed to do in this situation? Wake them up? If it was just Y/n, perhaps he could’ve, but Regulus was with her, and Regulus wasn’t too fond of Remus for being friends with his older brother. Madam Pince had already left for the night, either choosing not to disturb them or didn’t notice them. Remus saw the inkpot beside the Potions book, almost empty. It was Y/n’s inkpot because the ink wasn’t black. It was a deep grape color.

Remus sighed and grabbed the ink from his bag, charming it the same color. Discretely he took hers and swapped it out with his. Leaving a piece of parchment on top. Remus left the library without another word. Waking them up was a risk he’d rather not take. But now, he laid in his bed wondering how she’d feel about the new ink on the table.

The sun began to rise, and Y/n’s body felt stiff. Carefully she began to stir awake after noticing a body beside her. Opening her eyes, everything seemed blurry, but after blinking a few times, she recognized the library books and the person's scent beside her. Regulus, her best friend. Y/n yawned and pulled away from him, about to begin packing their belongings, but she noticed a piece of parchment that lay on top of her ink.

“Noticed you were out. You can have mine.“

Y/n hummed appreciatively. She didn’t know who gave her their ink, but she was eternally grateful for them saving her a trip to Hogsmeade. Y/n poked at Regulus’ right side, and he eventually stirred awake. His curls disheveled and his body just as stiff as she was. Regulus opened his eyes and met her e/c ones.

“Did we fall asleep?” He groaned, and Y/n scoffed, “What do you think, dingus?”

“No need to be mean this early in the morning, Merlin.”

“Someone saw us last night, though.” Y/n stated, and Regulus noticeably jumped, “Who?”

She shrugged, “Not sure, but they left me a new pot of ink.”

“Lucky you.”

“Lucky me.”

Both best friends cleared their table. Y/n put her Potions books away, and Regulus put his Transfiguration books away. Y/n stared at the writing on the parchment she had received earlier that day. The handwriting was almost unrecognizable. It was messy and sprawled. Whoever this was did not have good handwriting or was in a rush. But the day carried on. In Potions, Y/n sat in the front while the Marauders sat in the back. Remus stared holes in the back of Y/n’s head.

“She’s gonna notice if you keep staring at her like that.” Sirius muttered.

Remus sighed and continued to write his notes. If he tried hard enough, he could make out her elegant purple ink from here. It always baffled him why she chose purple over traditional black - suppose it wasn’t really any of his business, but he couldn’t help but wonder. The familiar sketchbook sat on top of the desk as well; he could see doodles in the same deep purple color. Occasionally Regulus - who sat beside her - would nudge her to pay attention, gaining an annoyed groan.

Potions class always smelt weird. It was a mixture of glue, seaweed, and salt. It was also constantly humid. It brought shivers down Remus’ spine. He noticed it doing the same to the Slytherin girl at the front. Remus craved nothing more than to wrap his robe around her, but he was too late. Regulus was already doing the action, which earned him one of her jaw-dropping smiles. Unconsciously he began growling again. This time, James smacked his arm.

“Mate!”

“Sorry…”

Dinner was even worse. Y/n had yet to remove Regulus’ robes leaving him in a button-down white shirt and the usual uniform. Sirius was surprised at his younger brother's chivalry but didn’t speak much. The full moon was that night, and as dinner progressed, Remus only gained more possessive. James and Sirius gave up on trying to scold him. It was apparent Moony wanted - no - needed her. Slytherin captain be damned, Y/n was going to be Moonys.

A dry winter night. As usual, Remus walked to the Whomping Willow with his three friends following him. Tonight was normal in the sense of his friends turning into their animagus,’ but the odd thing was letting him out of the shack. The werewolf and the dog ran around the forest together. The rat and stag lagging behind, allowing the two animals to play together. But a stick-breaking brought the attention of the werewolves to the new person.

He could smell them. Hear their blood running through their veins. Their heart pounding at a standard rate. The dogs barking could be heard, trying to distract the werewolf. The scent was female, and she wasn’t scared. Instead, the girl approached with confidence sticking out her hand to the wolf. Padfoot barked loudly. Prongs backed down, looking nervous. Wormtail squeaked loudly. But she came with confidence and assurance.

Moony growled, “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She cooed, “You’re safe with me.”

The h/c haired girl knelt on the grass, “No need to be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Moony hesitantly put his snout in the girl's palm, making her grin. His fur was soft to the touch, and his eyes turned soft. Her smile was beautiful, and Moony nuzzled his hand into her soft palm. She chuckled and patted him more. Padfoot barked excitedly and ran to her, but the werewolf started to bare his teeth again.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m yours.”

The wolf seemed to calm down at her words allowing Padfoot to approach her. Smiling brightly, she pet both animals, “It’s okay, love.”

“My name’s Y/n. I didn’t know that there was a werewolf here.” Y/n greeted as Moony curled up beside her, his head on her thigh, Padfoot doing the same on the other side.

She caught sight of the other two animals and whistled for their attention, “C’mere.”

Prongs and Wormtail approached nervously, but Moony gave no sense of protectiveness. Y/n’s words resonated in his head over and over again, “I’m yours.” The wolf fell asleep beside her, Padfoot doing the same. Prongs approached, and Y/n patted the top of his head. Wormtail sat in front of her knee. They seemed at peace. It was the first time Moony ever felt at ease. They’d be lying if it didn’t make them happy.

Y/n stayed up all night with the animals. Despite the animals not knowing, Y/n knew that the stag, rat, and dog were animagus’. The werewolf was unknown to her. The following morning when the stag turning into James, rat into Peter, dog into Sirius. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to find out who the werewolf was. When he turned back into a human with his clothes tattered. Y/n continued to run her fingers through his hair as he slept.

“Morning, Marauders,” Y/n commented.

“You’re- you-“ James stuttered.

She laughed, “Apparently, your moony really likes me.”

“Would you mind petting me again?” Sirius teased, “Maybe.” Y/n retorted, winking.

Sirius laid down on her other thigh that Remus wasn’t laying on, smiling; she ran her fingers through their hair, “You’re a godsend, lemme tell you.”

James and Peter sat in front of Y/n, “What made you want to take a walk in the forbidden forest last night?”

“Just wanted some air.” Y/n answered.

Remus groaned and began pushing his head onto Y/n’s hand, “Morning, Remus.”

The Marauders and Y/n had never seen him jump up that fast, “What- you- I- uh-“

“Didn’t know you were a werewolf.”

“I- uh…”

“Sirius, for the love of God, get off her lap.” James interject, slapping the boy on the head playfully, “But it feels so good.” Sirius drawled.

James grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the grass. In the process, Sirius got a mouthful of dirt and grass, “You wanker.”

“Did I- erm- hurt you?” Remus questioned shyly, “Nope, I'm completely unscathed.” Y/n smiled reassuringly.

Remus turned to his friends, “Nope! Y/n saved us all.”

“Are you hurt?” Y/n inquired to Remus, who took a quick look at himself, “I- I don’t believe so….”

Sirius blew a raspberry, “Thank Merlin! Dragging you to the hospital wing is bloody exhausting.”

Silence filled the forest until Sirius smirked, “You know, mate when you were talking about Moony wanting her. I thought you were joking. Turns out you weren’t.”

“Oi!”

“Oh, Merlin…”

Y/n chuckled, “Well, Moony is rather cute if I’m honest.”

Remus’ cheeks blasted with pink, and Sirius laughed. James shook his head with a big grin, and Peter looked amused with Y/n’s confession. Without hesitation, Y/n leaned over to kiss Remus’ cheek, making him hide his face flustered. She stood up and ruffled Sirius’ hand, gently rubbing her nails across his scalp, making Sirius try to lean into her palm. They all stared at her except for Remus, who was equally embarrassed and flustered.

“If you’re looking for a fifth Marauder, I know the Slytherin common room password.” Y/n winked as she walked to the castle.

3K notes · View notes

imagines-hoarder · 3 years

Text

House Warming - Bucky Barnes

Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Warnings: fluff with a lil angst

A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta for the dividers! xoxox

Masterlist

It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.

“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”

“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.

The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.

From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.

“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.

“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.

“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?

“They add character.”

“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”

The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.

He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.

And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.

One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.

It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.

Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.

“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.

“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”

After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.

“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.

“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.

“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”

He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”

“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”

“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.

Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.

When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.

Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”

The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”

You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”

“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”

He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”

When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed.”

He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”

You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”

He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.

“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”

You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”

Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.

That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.

The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.

He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.

“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.

Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.

“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”

You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.

You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.

The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”

Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.

Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”

“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”

“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.

“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.

“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”

He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.

You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.

“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff

514 notes · View notes

tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

Text

nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy

read on ao3

Eddie’s fine. Really. He’s got a fresh scar on his right shoulder, a twin to his other one, and a couple more medical bills to pay off, but other than that, everything is good.

Why shouldn’t it be? Things could be worse — he could’ve lost his arm, could’ve been shot in the spine instead, could’ve not survived the trip to the hospital. But he did — he’s healed, he’s still breathing, and he’s ready to get back to work on Monday, to stop staring at the inside of his house and get back to the life he’d finally started to feel settled in. There’s a twinge in his chest every time he thinks about actually being back out in the field, but it’s just nerves, a small worry at getting back into the swing of things. He knows the team and how well they work together, so he’s sure one rope rescue with Buck is all it’ll take to feel normal again.

He’s fine. Or almost fine. Really, he is. He doesn’t let the tremble in his hands or the ice in his gut tell him otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t really register, the first time it happens. There’s a glint of light in his periphery, and for a second, his arms go numb. It’s just a second, though — he sees the flash again, sunlight shining off an axe Ravi is packing onto the truck, and he moves on, doesn’t think about it again.

The next time, the wind whips by his ear a little too fast after a call at the pier, and he turns around so quickly he cracks his neck, the thought of bulletbulletbullet ricocheting in his head. It gets him a concerned look from Bobby and reminds him that he never called that therapist his doctor mentioned at his last visit, but he elects to deal with it later and moves on.

Things keep happening, but they’re all small, insignificant — someone laughing too loudly at dinner, the feel of hot asphalt under his hands as he reaches under the ambulance for a runaway bandage roll, a phantom jolt of pain in his shoulder when someone accidentally jostles him running to the truck.

Tiny things, meaningless, not even worth remembering.

He’ll get used to them, eventually. He’s been healing, isolated from the real world for months now, it’s going to be a bit of a shock to his system and his senses.

He doesn’t call the therapist.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s happy. Genuinely happy, in an open, honest way that Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen. His laughs are still loud but they’re freer, unrestrained, and his smile is bright enough to light whatever room he’s in. It makes something sing in Eddie’s chest, especially when all that wattage gets directed at him. If he’s honest, the music’s been there for a while, it just took lying in his own blood, reaching toward the only thing that felt like safety, for him to finally put a name on the song that’s been playing.

Talk about shitty timing.

Because Buck’s with Taylor now, and as much as he still doesn’t care for her, she’s helping with Buck’s new attitude too. He sees the soft smiles that linger after a text from her, and he only gives himself a minute to wish it were for him instead before reminding himself how much of a miracle those smiles are at all.

If he had watched Buck get shot, been splattered with his blood, been soaked with it as he tried to stop it from leaking out of his chest, he’s not sure he would’ve had any kind of happiness to spare.

So he adds this feeling, this particularly green beast twisting in his chest, to the list of things that he’s just going to have to get used to, and moves on. Buck is still in his and Chris’ life, still at their house more than his own, still the center of both of their worlds, and that’s enough.

It has to be.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow, Eddie, you look like shit.”

He glares at Chimney as best he can, but he’s too tired for it to hold any heat. “Good morning to you too, Chim.”

Hen sits next to him at the table where he’s nursing his second mug of coffee of the day, downing the first one before driving Chris to school. She presses the back of her hand to his forehead, and he tries not to melt into the touch too much.

“You don’t feel warm,” she says, “but you look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

He shrugs, staring down at his coffee. “Just haven’t been sleeping well.”

That may be an understatement. Not sleeping well implies sleeping at all, which Eddie’s not sure he’s been able to do in the past few days. It was easy enough when he first got home, still on pain meds that made his eyelids constantly heavy. And when Chris crawled into his bed the night after his sling came off, quiet but sniffling and burrowing into his side, it was a relief to gather him up close, a hand stroking through his hair as they both drifted off, clinging to each other. It was good for both of them, necessary to remind them both that Eddie is still here, but Chris went to his own room on Monday night instead of Eddie’s, and Eddie refused to take that choice away from him.

So he’s been alone, in a too dark room with a too big bed and a too loud brain that only shows him flashes of light and blood and fear whenever he does try to close his eyes.

Just another thing he has to get used to.

He sees Chim and Hen exchange a look and hopes to God they don’t press it. He’s beyond frayed, his state of exhaustion warring with his almost constant state of hypervigilance, and he’s not sure if he’d snap or cry or both if they try to ask him any more questions. Either way, that’s not how he wants them or anyone else to see him, especially not at work. At work, he’s Mr. Cool, always level headed, always in the game, always on top of it. Despite the jumpiness, despite the sense of dread that seems to be a permanent fixture under his skin, he’s been able to keep that attitude going, even getting lost in it sometimes, feeling like the Eddie of four months ago again. If that starts to unravel, who knows what other parts of him will fall apart with it?

Luckily, they seem to get the hint, a pat on the back and a squeeze on the shoulder as they leave the loft to restock the ambulance. But even once they’re gone and he’s alone in the quiet of the loft again, Eddie feels exposed. Fragile. Vulnerable. Teetering on the edge of an abyss he can’t afford to fall into. And he hates it, because this isn’t him. He’s the protector, the provider, the guy who’s survived getting shot twice now, and as much as he encourages Chris to be open and emotional, it still feels wrong to him, like something too close to failure. He knows, rationally, that talking about the mess in his head would probably help, but it would also feel like a loss. Like this one-sided war he’s been fighting was all for nothing.

He hears Buck before he sees him, his unmistakable bounding up the stairs echoing through the whole loft. Just that sound, just the knowledge that Buck is about to be in his vicinity, is enough to yank Eddie back from the edge. He’s not settled or calm or better, but he’s not worse. These days, that’s all he can really ask for.

Buck takes Hen’s vacant seat, stealing a sip of coffee and chattering about a traveling art exhibit he thinks they should take Chris to. Eddie feels the vice on his ribs loosen, letting Buck’s voice and enthusiasm wash over him, pushing him back to center. He doesn’t quite make it, not when Buck stops talking mid-sentence, brow furrowed and looking so intensely at Eddie he can probably see right through him

“You look tired,” Buck says.

Tired isn’t a strong enough word. But he smirks half heartedly instead, willing a little bit of his confidence back to get the subject changed sooner. “And here I thought I looked good today.”

“No, you always—“ Buck clears his throat and shakes his head, “You just look like you could use a nap. Are you okay?”

And for the first time since he woke up in the hospital with a new hole in his body and extra demons in his head, Eddie doesn’t want to say he’s fine. In the face of earnest blue eyes and worry lines, he doesn’t want to lie, and that’s exactly what an I’m fine would be, no matter how much he’s been trying to ignore it. He doesn’t want to downplay and pretend that it’s nothing, because it’s Buck. Buck who has seen him lower than he’s ever let anyone see, who slept on his couch so he was never too far away from him or Chris, who knows when Eddie needs to be pulled or pushed or pressed or none of the above.

He doesn’t want to just say he’s fine, because he’s not.

The courage to say so finally fills him, just in time for Buck’s phone to light up, Taylor’s name flashing across the screen on two messages. Buck doesn’t even glance at his phone before flipping it face down and pushing it to the side, but it’s too late — Eddie feels his walls going back up, any bravery leaving to make room for the reminder that Buck is in a good place and Eddie will do anything to keep him there. He’ll take another bullet, he’ll keep every emotion under lock and key, he’ll carve his own damn heart out of his chest if he has to. He cannot — will not — be the reason that smile that’s become so natural on Buck’s face dims by even a watt.

The crease in between Buck’s brow has only gotten deeper the longer Eddie hasn’t answered, so he musters up the most genuine smile he can. “I’m okay, Buck. I promise.” The lie cuts through his throat like broken glass.

Buck squints at him, scooting forward until his knees are digging into Eddie’s thigh. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

“Of course,” he says, another lie, more salt in the wounds he’s already given himself. Buck’s quiet for a few long moments, studying Eddie’s face, and Eddie prays that he doesn’t crack, that Buck doesn’t keep pressing. By some miracle, he doesn’t, just rests a hand on Eddie’s knee and squeezes before heading to the pantry for a snack.

The vice is back as soon as he’s out of sight, and Eddie’s list of things he has to learn to live with is starting to feel a little too long.

~~~~~~~~~~

Healing isn’t linear. It’s something he’s heard from every doctor he’s seen, every therapist he’s been assigned to, something he’s experienced first hand, physically and emotionally. So when he wakes up one morning feeling rested, energetic, and normal, he’s wary. He doesn’t want to focus on it, afraid he’ll scare this fragile feeling away, but he also wants to soak in it as much as he can. Wants to remember the easy laughs with the team and the night of board games with Chris and Buck when he’s inevitably surrounded by darkness again tomorrow.

He falls asleep and he doesn’t dream and he wakes up and feels...normal. Again. Same thing the morning after, and the morning after that. For a whole week, he doesn’t wake up with the taste of blood in his mouth or a soreness in his shoulder. He hears birds and sees the sun peaking in and feels something dangerously close to good. The wariness is still there, but every day it gets pushed a little farther back in his mind, making it a little easier to believe that while this feeling might not last, maybe it won’t be as dark when the clouds roll back in.

He’s wrong.

The restlessness comes back with a vengeance — a thrumming in his blood that won’t let him sleep, that amplifies every sound to sharp snaps that remind him too much of the gunfire he’s been trying to forget, putting him constantly on edge again. There’s a heaviness too, making it hard to breathe, hard to move, even though staying in one place for too long feels like putting a target on his back for the monsters that have made a home in his head.

He tries to keep his cool, tries to keep the facade up, but it’s hard to keep your balance on a frayed tightrope.

Bobby notices the shift right away.

It doesn’t help that even the quiet thump of the oven closing makes Eddie flinch where he’s sitting at the kitchen counter. He had hoped that watching Bobby make breakfast would calm him, remind him of the countless hours he’s spent in Abuela’s kitchen doing the very same thing, but it doesn’t. He’s still jittery, worse than he can remember being, and everything just feels like too much.

Bobby sets a to-go container down in front of him, and Eddie flinches (and curses himself) again. He looks up, confused, and is met with Bobby’s I’m about to tell you to do something and you are not allowed to say no look. Usually it’s Buck on the receiving end of that one.

He tries for a deflection. “Are we going somewhere, Cap?”

The look stays in place. “We are not. You are. There’s enough in there for you and Chris, take it home and don’t let me see you here for the next 48 hours.”

“There’s still three hours left of shift.”

Bobby pushes the container closer. “Go home, Diaz. Be with your kid. We’ll talk when you get back. And if you won’t talk to me, we’ll find someone you will talk to.”

Normally, he’d fight back. Raise his hackles, insist he doesn’t need any special treatment or intervention. But he feels like his insides have been scooped out and replaced with lead and cement and he’s tired. He barely has enough left in him to keep himself upright.

He slowly picks up the container and gets up to leave. Bobby calls his name as he gets to the top of the stairs.

“We’re here for you,” he says. “You’ve been through too much to be handling this on your own. Just let us know how we can help.”

I would if I could, but I don’t even know where to start.

He just nods, hopes his face looks some degree of reassuring, and heads to the locker room.

~~~~~~~~~~

The way Chris’ face lights up when he sees Eddie waiting for him in the front office is enough to thaw the ice in his chest for a minute. He can hear the exact octave his mother’s voice would reach if she heard about him pulling Chris out of school for “no good reason”, but he also could not give less of a shit.

He feels a little bit more like a person with Chris in the backseat. That’s a good enough reason for him.

They set up camp in the park near their house, Bobby’s food and extra snacks Eddie picked up spread out between them, and Chris fills Eddie in on all the things he missed while he was working. He tries to focus on everything — Chris’ excitement about his upcoming science fair, the Sour Patch Watermelon sugar stuck to the tip of his nose, the way his hands move with his words. Eddie feels better, more settled, just getting to bask in the sun and in Chris like this, but he still feels heavy, like every move he makes has him fighting against gravity, threatening to pull him into the dirt.

There’s a crack from the playground in front of them, and Eddie’s blood turns to ice. He’s halfway to standing before he sees it’s just some kids snapping sticks in half to build some kind of log cabin. He lets out a slow breath as he sits back down and wills his heartbeat back to normal.

Chris is staring at him, eyes intense and brow furrowed, very similar to someone else they know.

Shit.

As soon as he’s settled, Chris moves to sit in the criss-cross of his legs. He’s a little too on the lanky side for this anymore, but Eddie’s absolutely not going to complain. Chris twists until he’s looking Eddie in the eye. Eddie does his best not to look away.

Chris rests a hand on his cheek. “It’s okay if you’re feeling bad,” he says. “You can talk to me about it, if you want.”

The crack comes from Eddie’s own heart this time. His kid has been through so much in 10 short years, and it’s only made him wiser than he should be, compassionate and understanding and open, ready to be there for anyone without a second thought. He’s good in every sense of the word, and Eddie’s in awe of the fact that he, somehow, has something to do with that. And the last thing he wants to do is lie to his son, but he just...can’t. Talk about it. Not now. Not yet. Not in a way that will keep Chris this good.

He has no way of articulating all that, so he just wraps his arms around Chris’ middle and squeezes him close.

“I know, buddy. Thank you. I’ll be okay, and we’ll talk soon.”

It’s not a lie, but it’s not everything.

It seems to be enough for Chris, though. He nods and pats Eddie’s face before reaching into his backpack and pulling out a library book. “Well, I’m gonna read to you until you feel better, just like you do for me.”

It’s the first real smile Eddie’s cracked in months. He kisses the top of Chris’ head, settling his chin there as Chris leans back into his chest.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

They sit there for a while longer, Chris reads to him about Percy and Annabeth and Grover, and Eddie, inexplicably, feels a little bit lighter.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s Jeep is parked outside when they get home, and Chris practically breaks down the door to greet him. It looks like he’s gone all out, too — Chinese food on the table, the promise of cookies and cream ice cream in the fridge, and a list of movies that Chris ecstatically agrees with as Buck lists them off. Chris hurries off to change and clean up for dinner, and Eddie moves to start opening plastic lids and cardboard containers.

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” he says. He leaves out just having you with us is enough.

Buck waves him off. “Anything for you two.”

He could leave it at that, keep up the comfortable silence as they move around the kitchen in tandem, but there’s a nagging memory that he has to ask about or he’ll never stop thinking about it.

“Didn’t you have a date with Taylor tonight?”

Buck tenses ever so slightly, a container of dumplings shifting in his hand. “Cancelled,” he says with a shrug.

Eddie knows there’s more, but Chris comes back before he can ask, and it doesn’t feel like a conversation they can have in front of a 10 year old. So they eat, and fall into the familiar banter between the three of them, and for half an hour, Eddie can be present. He can forget the last six months and the weight still hanging off of him and live in this moment, with the two most important people in his life, and pretend that this is all there is. Just these two and their joy and warmth that wraps around him tight enough to make him feel alive again, if only for a little while.

Two bowls of ice cream and one and a half movies later, Chris is dead to the world. Buck carries him to bed and Eddie tries to ignore the new ache that’s sprung up of the course of the evening, the one that wants and pulls towards Buck like a magnet. The one that almost purrs when Buck settles back on the couch so close they’re touching from ankle to (good) shoulder, contentedness washing over the living room as they find a rerun of The Shawshank Redemption playing on cable. It’s not perfect, there’s still a roiling in his blood that won’t seem to leave him alone, but he feels better than he has in God knows when.

Buck shifts closer to Eddie, eyes glowing in the light of the TV, and Eddie never wants him to leave. “Thanks for coming tonight. I— Chris and I both really needed this, I think.”

“I told you, anything for you two. Always.”

He ignores the way his stomach flips and tries to focus on the movie. He gets about five minutes of peace before another thought comes back, still nagging him, mixing with his anxiety enough to actually force him to say something.

He aims for cool and casual. “So, you and Taylor...everything okay?”

Buck gives him a very long, almost challenging look before turning off the TV. Seems he missed that casual mark. “I should be asking you the same thing.” “Very funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. I’m really worried about you, Eds.”

“This isn’t my first time getting shot, I know how to handle it.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as bitter as it does, but he can’t bring himself to care, either. He doesn’t have the energy to keep a filter up anymore.

“Eddie, I’m serious.”

“I’m fine, Buck,” he says sharply, and he’s surprised his teeth haven’t fallen out of his head yet with how hard he’s lying through them. He hates that he’s lying to Buck at all, but those smiles he’s gotten used to have been fewer and farther between recently, and he knows it’s his fault. He might feel like his own seams are coming apart, but he’ll be damned if he rips Buck open too, even if it means pushing him away from his mess. “You’ve got a life and a girlfriend to worry about, I’ll figure everything out on my own.”

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend. We broke up.”

Eddie pauses, curses the faint hope that sparks in his chest. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been a little distracted by someone else for the past few months. It didn’t feel fair to her to keep it going.”

He gives him another long look, and Eddie might be a little dense when it comes to things like this, but that look breaks through loud and clear. This is it. This is real. This is everything he’s wanted for the past six months — and probably longer than that — but now that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel right. Buck was happy, free, finally settled into his own skin, and it’s all gone now because of Eddie and his stupid, broken everything. He knows he won’t be able to give Buck everything he needs, at least right now, but Buck needs to know that too. “Buck—”

“Nope,” he says with a firm shake of his head. “I know you’re gonna try and blame yourself for this somehow, but…don’t. It was bound to happen anyway. Because you’re right, I do have a life, but it’s you two. You and Chris. That’s all I need it to be. That’s all I want it to be. And I hate that it took so long for me to figure out, that it took you getting shot, but we’re here now.” His eyes shutter a bit as he looks down at his hands. “At least, I hope we are.”

And there it is. So simple, so easy, for Buck to admit this huge thing that Eddie thought he was dancing around on his own. The ease reminds Eddie, through his fog of sadness and anger and every other bleak feeling that’s been controlling him, that that’s what makes them work so well together. Honesty. Being able to show all their ugly, mismatched inside parts to each other and still find the beauty, the ways to help, the ways to hold each other together when they need it the most.

And Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever needed to be held together more than he does right now.

“Ask me,” he whispers, the sound seeming to echo around the room.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me if I’m okay.”

Buck shuffles on the couch until they’re facing each other, takes both of Eddie’s hands in his.

“Eddie,” he says softly, “are you okay?”

The world blurs as the tears he’s been fighting finally break free, but he feels strong. Brave. Like he can do anything now that Buck’s holding his hand.

“No,” he says, a crack in his voice but the conviction behind it still firm. “No, I’m not okay.”

The floodgates open, and he lets everything wash over him, all the things he’s been holding back, forcing away in the hopes that they’d just disappear one day. He’s floating and sinking and lost in the waves of it all, but strong arms wrap around him and pull him close, and there’s relief. Not a lot, not enough, but it’s there, for the first time since he woke up in the hospital. He feels safe here, with Buck wiping away his tears and pressing kisses along his hairline. He honestly forgot what safety felt like, was sure he’d never feel anything like it again. But he knew it that day he was bleeding out on the street, and he knows it now — it feels like Buck’s sweatshirt and smells like his aftershave and sounds like whispers of it’s okay and I’ve got you.

It all subsides, eventually, but Buck still holds him close, presses their foreheads together so there’s nothing else Eddie can focus on. His eyes are piercing, bright like Eddie only usually sees when Buck has a plan that refuses to be derailed.

“Let me help, Eddie,” he says, punctuated with a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “I know you think you can do this yourself, but you don’t have to. I don’t want you to. Let me help you carry it.”

His voice left with the rush of everything, so all Eddie can do is nod before sinking back into Buck, into relief. Even that simple motion, the silent acknowledgement that he’s not alone anymore, is enough to let small seeds of hope sink into him and take root. They’re still weak, still unfamiliar, but they’re here, waiting to grow.

And Eddie knows, with a certainty that he forgot he was capable of, that Buck will be here to help tend to them, no matter how long it takes for them to blossom.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Eddie wakes up the next morning, he still feels weighed down. There’s still an edge, an unease low in his gut, anxiety still crawling through his veins.

He’s not okay. But he looks over and sees Buck — breathing even, arm thrown over Eddie’s stomach, keeping him close — and the ever-present darkness fades from an angry black to melancholy grey. Not perfect, not even close, but better.

He’s not okay. He hasn’t been for a while. But now, finally, he feels like he will be.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #tim i know you read fanfic you can HAVE this one so we can get a recovery arc #i don't even need credit just DO IT #ficcery

238 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do another fic involving jules and coops together? Just like sweet moments between the three? I loved the baby sitting series you did and could not stop thinking about it❤️❤️ Thank you!!

Yeah, of course! I love writing my boy at any opportunity. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but the relatives are my ocs!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sirius asked under his breath as Remus finally—finally—appeared from the mass of people.

“It’s fine,” Remus said around a forced smile to a middle-aged man across the yard.

Sirius hid his mouth by pretending to look down at the nearest casserole dish. He didn’t even know what was in it; nobody had bothered with labels, and everyone’s dishes were the same basic florals in different colors. “I love you, Re, and I totally get the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing, but this is a bit much if I’m being honest.”

“Honey.” Remus’ shoulder pressed against his own. “I’m sorry you’re not having a good time, but my Aunt Jen would skin me alive if I didn’t bring the man I’m marrying to the family reunion. We can leave tomorrow if you really hate—oh, no.”

“Remus!” a shrill, excited voice called. Sirius felt his fiancé straighten up as a tall, redheaded woman in star-painted jeans hurried across the grass with three other women in tow. She reached up and gave Remus’ cheeks a squish, then leaned in a planted a lipstick-stamped kiss to his forehead. “How are you, my duckling? Was your flight alright? Make sure you stay away from the salt or else your feet will swell.”

“Hi, Aunt Jen,” Remus said, grimacing a little at her rib-crushing hug. “I’m doing well, and our flight was fine. How are you?”

“Peachy keen,” she assured him. Dark brown eyes lasered in on Sirius half a second later and he felt his fight or flight kick in. “And who are you?”

“Aunt Jen, this is—”

“It was rhetorical, honey,” Jen interrupted with a pat to Remus’ arm as she stepped closer to Sirius and immediately hauled him in for a hug. She was as tall as Remus, but broader in the shoulders and hips; he had never felt so engulfed by someone. It was a strangely enjoyable feeling.

“Aren’t you a handsome one?” the shortest of the group cooed, as if she was talking to a particularly small dog in a purse. “Our Remus always knew how to pick them.”

Remus furrowed his brows. “Aunt Lisa, this is the first boyfriend I’ve—”

“But he’s not just a boyfriend!” Jen trilled, giving Sirius’ cheek a pat. “He’s a fiancé, something I learned from your mother. Not from your father—oh, I gave him a talking-to about that—and not from you, duck.”

Sirius bit back a laugh at the nickname and spared a glance to his left, where Remus had gone pink all the way to his ears. “Sorry.”

“Introduce us!” the shortest insisted, taking the other two by the hands as pulling them forward with an eager smile.

“Everyone, this is Sirius Black, my fiancé.” Remus gestured between them, and the four women beamed at him. “Sirius, this is Aunt Jen, Aunt Lisa, Aunt Allison, and Aunt Mary, my dad’s sisters.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Sirius said, holding a hand out.

“No need to be so formal,” the brunette grumbled with a teasing grin. “We have heard so much about you from Lyall. After those damned pictures—”

“Allison,” Jen hissed.

“—after the damned pictures,” Allison repeated with a pointed look. “I was about ready to drive up to Gryffindor myself and give that lousy son of a bitch a piece of my mind—”

“Allison!”

“—but Lyall talked me down and I have been waiting to meet you ever since.” She finished with a soft huff and gave his arm a quick squeeze. “Remus is a lucky boy to have you. It’s very exciting to see you in person at last.”

Sirius’ heart gave a happy little ka-thump and he smiled. “I’m glad to be here. Thank you for having me.”

“He is so polite,” Lisa said to Remus out of the corner of her mouth with a wink and a thumbs-up. “Good choice.”

“You know what I just realized? We haven’t said hello to Jules yet. We’ll see you in a few, yeah?” Without waiting for an official answer, Remus wrapped an arm around Sirius’ waist and practically carried him away from the table. Once they were out of earshot—and the aunts had busied themselves with one of the younger Lupins—Remus relaxed with a slow exhale. “I am…so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I had no idea they were going to corner you like that. I mean, I did, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be for another few hours. They tend to move in a pack at reunions, like sharks. Or wolves.”

“They’re really sweet.”

“They are,” Remus said grudgingly, though Sirius could read the affection dripping off him like his favorite book. “My dad’s the youngest of five, and I was the first nephew. You can imagine how that went.”

“Baby of the baby?”

“Exactly.”

“Can I ask one thing?” Remus nodded, visibly confused, and Sirius found he couldn’t keep his grin down any longer. “Duckling?”

“I hoped you didn’t hear that,” he groaned as they headed toward the kids’ play area beneath a large oak. “Long story short, it involved five-year-old me, a pond, and a sinus infection that made me sound like a duck when I sneezed.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius laughed, earning himself a light elbow to the ribs. “And the name stuck?”

“Considering she was the one that had to stay with me while my folks were working, she could call me whatever the hell she wanted. Please don’t ask her about it unless you want a thirty-minute TED talk about the ins and outs of my sinuses.”

“She’s a doctor?”

“No, she just overshares.”

“Sirius!”

Sirius looked up and saw a herd of small children racing toward them, led by his favorite person under the age of eighteen; Jules crashed into his legs and squeezed him tight around the waist. “Hey, I missed you!”

Jules propped his chin below Sirius’ sternum and stared up at him with the classic hazel-gold eyes that were far more common than Sirius believed before they arrived in the Lupins’ backyard. “I missed you, too! How’s the team? How’s Harry? Is he still super small or did he do that weird thing that babies do where their legs grow and the rest of them still looks normal? How was your flight? Did you have turbulence?”

Sirius thought for a moment. “Good, also good, growing normally, and yes.”

“Sweet! Come play cornhole with us!” Jules grabbed his hand and dragged him along the grass at the closest thing he could manage to a sprint with Sirius’ added weight—the pre-teen years had lent him gangly legs, though he didn’t seem quite sure how to use them yet. He looked more like a foal than a sixth-grader.

“What the hell is cornhole?” Sirius muttered as the flock of kids ran ahead to grab armfuls of beanbags.

Remus grinned. “Something I’m about to kick your ass at.”

------------------------------------

By the time the sun set, Sirius was exhausted. He had been introduced to dozens of people who looked just enough like Remus to be eerie, as well as plenty who seemed to have been acquired by one Lupin or another over the course of their life. Jules fluctuated between laminating himself to Sirius’ side and disappearing for an hour at a time, only to return more grass-stained and rumpled than ever as he begged Remus to swing him around by the ankles again. His ass had been thoroughly kicked at cornhole and freeze tag; it was a true miracle he hadn’t already passed out into a food coma. For all of his earlier griping, Sirius couldn’t think of a time in recent months when he had been more content.

“You’re a brave soul,” Remus remarked as they sat in the grass together and watched the fireflies wake. Though it was a warm night, it seemed the citronella candles littering the tables were doing their job of chasing off mosquitoes.

Sirius leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder. He smelled like grass and summertime and sunbaked warmth. “Am I?”

“Mhmm. I’m sure most people would have run screaming by now.”

“I like your family.”

A beat of silence passed; Remus rested his temple against the top of Sirius’ head. “I’m really glad to hear that. They’re weird and loud, but I love them.”

“And I love you.”

“Are you saying I’m weird and loud?”

“On occasion.”

“Asshole,” Remus laughed, giving him a nudge that hardly qualified as more than a gentle sway.

“Language, there are eight million kids around.”

“They’re busy.”

Sirius watched as small group run by in a wave of giggles, all clutching mason jars of fireflies with their names written on masking tape. “Thank you again for asking me to come with you.”

“Like I said, Aunt Jen would—”

“Remus.” He fell quiet. Sirius didn’t remember the last time he said Remus’ full name aloud. “Your family loves you so much. They’re everything I ever wanted growing up, and it means the world that you wanted to share them with me. All they want is to see you happy. It was amazing to finally meet them.”

“They really, really love you,” Remus said softly, his voice a little thick. “I had about twenty people tell me how wonderful you are. They all thanked me for bringing you, and not a single one mentioned the celebrity thing. Even my Uncle Jay didn’t say a word about hockey.”

“He was the one in the jersey?”

“I’ve known him for my entire life and I’ve never seen him without one.”

“Huh.” Sirius tucked his face closer to Remus’ neck and let the sound of the bullfrogs in a distant marsh lull him. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. The adults will be up for a while, but the kids will start crashing soon.”

Footsteps on the cool grass rustled to their right and Sirius looked up. “Who wants pie?” Aunt Allison singsonged, breaking their quiet bubble with paper plates and utensils. “This one is blackberry, but we have peach, pumpkin, and a few others on the table if you’re still hungry.”

“Just a small piece, please,” Sirius said.

Allison paused and cocked her head, then burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re funny!”

“I am?”

“Don’t fight it,” Remus whispered.

“You are a growing boy,” Allison said as she cut a thick slice and plonked it onto his plate. “And there’s no such thing as too much pie.”

I’m 26, Sirius wanted to say, though he held it in. “Just a small one for me, as well,” Remus said.

“Ha!” Allison snorted. “You’re already too skinny. Eat your pie or you’ll end up a string bean like your father. The NHL might have given you muscle, but it’s useless if you don’t enjoy some of your favorite aunt’s—”

“—woah, hey now—”

“—pie once in a while.” Allison kissed the tops of their heads once both plates were secure and bowing in the middle. “I’m going to make sure the kids aren’t poking around in the river again. Sleep well, you two.”

Sirius stared down at his plate as she wandered away. “I’m honestly going to die if I eat this.”

“Yeah, please don’t make yourself sick on pie. You really don’t have to eat all of that. The aunts and uncles are convinced that none of us are eating properly once we turn eighteen.”

“Really?”

“I wish I was kidding. You’re going to sleep so well tonight, though.”

As if on cue, Sirius stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and cuddled under Remus’ arm again. A familiar shadow bounded over not two seconds later and he barely held down a groan. “Hey, can I join you?”

Remus shrugged. “ ‘course.”

“Sweet.” Jules settled himself across their laps, staring at the sky with his head pillowed on Sirius’ thigh. “Did you have fun? I’m really glad you could come.”

“I had a great time,” Sirius answered honestly. Now please move on so I can take a nap.

“Mom and dad and me got here yesterday, and Aunt Jen kept checking the door for you guys even though she knew you weren’t coming until today. She was worried you wouldn’t like us, I think.”

“That was never an option, Jules.”

“Yeah, I know.” A devilish grin flickered over his face. “Remus is the weirdest of all of us, and if you want to marry him—”

“Get off,” Remus grumbled, shoving Jules’ legs onto the picnic blanket. “You know, you were a lot nicer before you turned eleven. Can I return you and get a new one? I have the receipt somewhere.”

“Nope.”

“That’s all a birth certificate is, right?” Sirius raised his eyebrows. “If you bring it back in good condition, I hear they give you a ten percent discount.”

Jules scowled. “That’s so not true.”

“How do you think I got Regulus?”

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Remus asked with a pointed look. “Run along, problem child.”

“Of the two of us, I’m the least problematic.” Despite his words, Jules clambered to his feet and dusted his hands off over Remus’ head. “I’m not the one that got a secret boyfriend and got engaged in a year. I’m so easy. Mom and dad want two of me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Remus sighed as he stretched out on the blanket. “They had a second kid because they wanted two of me.”

“You’re adopted.”

Remus cracked one eye open in disbelief. “No, I’m not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because—y’know what, go to bed. Or go find the stampede, I think they’re by the river.”

Sirius whistled lowly as Jules scampered off again. “That was impressive. Isn’t your aunt over there?”

“Yep.”

Realization clicked into place. “She’s going to make him go to bed.”

“Yep.”

“You’re brilliant.”

Remus smiled without opening his eyes, and tugged Sirius down by the sleeve to lay next to him. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

The stars were brighter than anywhere Sirius had ever seen; for a moment, he was struck speechless by the endless rivers of sparkling white overhead. He stared until his eyes burned from dryness, then put his head on Remus’ chest and kept on looking. There was no way he could tear his gaze from it. A few shooting stars streaked across the clear sky and he felt his heart skip a beat in pure amazement when he realized there was nothing else he would wish for in that moment. He could listen to Remus’ heartbeat and the sound of his new family talking against a backdrop of the night, relishing in a full belly and cool wind, and simply stay there for as long as he liked.

#sirius black #remus lupin #julian lupin #coops #lupin family #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #family reunion

212 notes · View notes

clarissalance · 3 years

Text

Watermelon-flavored popsicle

Pairing: Xingqiu x g/n!reader, mention of Chongyun

Warning: light swearing, kissing, a lot of grammatically errors.

Word count: 3404

Summary: A coincident meeting between you and Xingqiu on Yaoguang Shoal might have changed your relationship.

A/N: Here is my come back for summer. This piece has been in my folder for so long but I just don’t want to check the errors and proofread. Luckily, I have found my motivation (no more wifi) and here is the piece. This one is inspired by imagination if I can go to the beach ( I hate corona).I hope you have fun reading this oneshot (and feel my desperation to enjoy the sunny beach) Next up will be Kazuha, I think :D. Please send Xingqiu a lot of love~~ (❤´艸｀❤)

Picture credit: @polarbear43666 on Twitter.

Summer in Liyue has always been sweltering, burning, and unbreathable. The sun stands proudly in the middle of clear azure sky, not a single cloud dare to tread near the glowing king, blocking the beam of lights shine down the city.

Today is also another day of undesirable temperature. Even when the city is a harbor, the cool breezes from the sea can’t calm down the rising heat from the road, nor the glowing businesses or the flock of people going to the market. Living in the city for 5 years, you know not to tread near the market during working hours, so you decide to go somewhere quiet, relaxing and enjoyable.

Yaoguang Shoal.

Normally, you would have gone to a teahouse or a bookstore to escape the hot weather, but today, those areas are swamp with people. You might have a brief idea of why they would be so crowded in there. It can only be Yunjin performance, or the teahouse is having a giveaway.

As much as you love to enjoy her breathtaking performance and intriguing stories, you wouldn’t risk getting trampled by those people. Maybe another day, when people aren’t packing inside the teahouse.

As soon as you arrive at the shore, the thick scent of salt waffles around the tip of your nose, sounds of waves calmly splashing against the coast. Slowly, you remove your shoes and sink your feet down the fever-like golden sand, heading toward the white bubbles splashing waves.

You should have brought a flip-flop instead of shoes.

At the burning sensation on the sole of your feet, you start sprinting toward the nearby small patches of grass hiding under a gigantic shade, hoping to save your sensitive skins.

As soon as you jump on the lump of grass, you can’t help letting out a painful hiss, jumping like a grasshopper on the surface. This place isn’t very far from the water, maybe you can put on an umbrella here and enjoy the breathtaking scenery.

Afar, you can see a few white cranes enjoying the cold water while looking for fishes, bathing under the scorching heat. Propping yourself on your knee, you sit down and enjoy the feeling of wind combing through your messy dark locks. From here, the sound of splashing water on the sand, the soothing sensation of a peaceful summer gently sinks down your skin.

You’re lucky to find a shade in the middle of a shore, under the scorching sun glaring holes on your head. Unlike the harbor, Yaoguang shoal is much more breathable, the cool breeze brings the smell of sea salt dancing on your skin, slowly imbued your silky dark lock with the distinctive scent of the ocean.

Letting out a lazy sigh, you leisurely drift into a slumber, opting for a relaxing nap while enjoying the sound of nature.

How great is it to not have someone disturb you?

“Y/N?”

Maybe you speak too soon.

Furrow your brows, you slowly open your eyes, annoyed by the sudden intrusion. The bright light clearly wants to pierce your eyes, but the figure moves closer and blocks the over-enthusiastic sun out of your gaze. You slowly sit up, squinting hard at the dark figure.

“Xingqiu?” Widen your eyes at the familiar shade of blue, you look at him quizzically. “What are you doing here?”

The male lets out a breathy chuckle and crouches down, letting light falls on his face.

“Me? The weather is nice, so I’m strolling along the shore and enjoy the weather.”

At your comical gaze drilling at his head, and the hydro user finally raises his hand in defeat. “ Fine, fine. I was on my way back to the Harbor after helping the traveler with some commissions.”

“ The harbor is the other direction.” You dubiously point the opposite direction, a small gust of wind picking up and tousling your hair. “ If you’re heading this direction, Dragonspine is where you're heading.”

“What are you doing here?” The young man ignores your remark and changes the topic, eyes curiously wander down your lying body on the grass.

“ Escaping the heat from the harbor.” You hum and scoot to the other side, sparing Xingqiu a space to sit. He must be drying staying that long under the sun.

He quickly sits down next to you, slowly peeling his boots and socks away. The area is small, forcing you to stay close to him, your shoulders almost bumping into each other. As much as you love skinship, any physical contact is overbearing in this weather. The scenery would have been more romantic if you’re sharing body heat in the bizarrely cold Starglow Cavern.

Wait… why did Xingqiu sit down and remove his boots? Isn’t he supposed to go back to the harbor?

“ You aren’t going back to the harbor?” You tilt your head and his side profile.

“ I was, but I change my mind.” The blue figure has his eyes on the boots, unlacing the footwear. “Sitting here with you is much more breathable than cramping inside the teahouse and the bookstore.”

…But you didn’t agree to let him stay in the first place. Why is he still here then?

You just offer him a place to sit down in the shade, just because he was sweating profusely under the sun when you were talking to him. It’s called an action out of politeness!!! He isn’t supposed to take the offer and makes himself comfortable.

Great, now you’re stuck with a body heat that you desperate to get away from. Roll your eyes, you let your gaze fleet over the vast clear ocean in front of you.

From here, you can slightly make out an outline of Guyun Stone Forest peeking behind the thickening clouds. That majestic scenery, the infamous fight between Osial and Res Lapis, you wonder how big that fight was to create a whole island with a gigantic unique shape? After thousands of years, you can still feel the rumbling energy threatening to break the seal of lord of Geo, yet something manages to force them down. Perhaps, there might be someone there securing the seal, holding the remaining pieces together. What would happen if that seal finally breaks again? Will the entire harbor engulfed by the anger of the lord of Vortex, or, will the new Geo archon will defend it?

“A mora of your thought?” A youthful voice calls out, and you whirl your head in his direction. “ You look so deep in thought.”

“ Ah… I was just thinking about the Guyun Stone Forest.” You shyly scratch your head, eyes don’t meet his. You totally forgot someone is sitting next to you. Xingqiu doesn’t comment, he lets his gaze drift to the Stone Forest, and the silence falls.

This time you don’t let your eyes stray to the exalted scenery hiding away under those clouds. Instead, you observe the hydro user, who is just a few inches away. His features are soft, yet so define. The sharp eyes, the slope of his nose, and the plush lips. Under the smooth cerulean locks is his signature amber orb. You have always felt enamored under his gaze ever since you first met. That golden eyes are always filled with the determination and sharpness of a predator. You love it when the soft, bubbly Xingqiu turns sharp, or when he’s practicing his swordsmanship.

“Take a picture, it will last longer.” The hydro user says, his voice remains calm and unwavering, almost make you mistake for someone else. “ How is my face?”

“ Utterly unacceptably handsome.” Propping yourself on your elbow, you stare into his deep eyes, answer honestly, try to hold your scoff.

Xingqiu doesn’t comment on your compliment but tilts his head the other way, avoiding your hawking gaze. Obviously, he knows you like to mess with him, trying to pull a reaction out of the shameless nonchalant friend when you’re bored. How you wish he would at least give you an entertaining reaction.

You remember those days when Xingqiu and Chongyun are easily flustered. Nowadays, only Chongyun is still affected by your antic. How does that popsicle boy not immune to your frequent teasing is also a big mystery you’re looking for an answer to.

“ You shouldn’t say someone is handsome if you don’t mean it.” After a while, the calm hydro user is back, composed, and relax. How can he be so lax in this atrocious weather, you don’t want to know.

“ But… you’re handsome ?”

“ You’re just trying to make me fluster.” He replies, a blush slowly creeps on his cheek. You don’t know why he’s trying to deny your compliment. He’s handsome, and you’re just using that fact to turn him into a tomato. Why does it sound like he’s trying hard to convince himself his face isn't aesthetic to look at?

You open your mouth but close it. Speechless, you don't know how do you convince him that you honestly compliment his features, not… uh baiting him? Do your compliments sound like cheap-ass flirtatious attempts people usually get in a combo when they visit the tavern?

Your motive isn’t as pure as it can be but your compliment does: honest, and authentic. How could he twist your words into something so scandalous like that? Outrageous!

Your lips part to speak, but something cold and hard is shoved inside, and your olfactory bulbs almost explode with flavor (and numbing cold). The feeling of fruity sweetness seeps on your tongue, with a tingle of refreshing feeling dancing on top. Glaring dagger at Xingqiu, you notice his gloating face while biting the signature blue popsicle. Did Chongyun give that to him?

Plug the freezing item out of your mouth, the vibrant pinkish color glowing under the sun, slowly dripping down your hand. It is a watermelon-flavored popsicle. He could have handed it to you nicely instead of almost choking you off and stop your sentence like that. Nevertheless, you still enjoy the watermelon-flavored popsicle while pouting at the young man.

“ Where did you get this?” In between you lick, you look up at him, surprised to see half of the popsicle has disappeared. Did he just chomp all that in less than a minute?

“I bought it, of course, food doesn't fall from the sky.” This young man is much more handsome when he has his mouth closed. You are really contemplated whether to use your handkerchief to shove down his throat. Or maybe a rock could do the job well too.

“So, pay me.” Xingqiu suddenly brings his hand to your face, mischief glowing in his amber eyes. The audacity of this hydro user must have rocketed the sky after so long not having a good fight. You give him a forced smile while elbow him in the stomach, voice dangerously low.

“ Our friendship doesn’t even worth a single popsicle? Really Xingqiu, I’m so disappointed.” You fake a sigh, head shaking in disapproval.

The god-damned bastard avoids your blow without a hitch and even slithers his hand on your waist to tickle you. Oh, he must be looking for death this time.

With the popsicle still inside your mouth, you sneakily raise your hand, attempting to push Xingqiu into the lava-like sand as revenge. It'd be a perfect touch to your lovely afternoon to see him tumbling on the group while jumping like a hissing cat.

How naïve of you, to think that he doesn’t spot your little antic. This is the young man always out-performing you in every aspect, even in eating a popsicle.

Without even looking at you, he catches your wrist effortlessly while still licking the ice cream. His body relaxes, compare to you, who almost tumbling toward him if he doesn't hold you in place. In a panic, you try to wriggle yourself out of his hold, but the young man only tightens his hold, remains unfazed by your swinging attempt to fling his hand out of your wrist.

“ Let me go Xingqiu!” Instead of laughing at a hissing Xingqiu tumbling on the sand, you become the angry cat here.

“ So you can hit me? Of course not.” He replies gloatingly, chins lackadaisical, his fingers wrap tightly around your wrist.

“It’s hot.”

“ Eat your popsicle then.” His hand holding your wrist brings up to point at the melting ice cream on your hand. “It’s melting.”

Of course, everyone can see that. Shooting pointed gaze at him, you try to shake the tight grip on your wrist a few more times, but nothing avails. He doesn’t let go, and your other hand is busy holding the popsicle. If you have another one, maybe you can peel off his fingers. Too bad you only have 2 hands.

Sigh out in defeat, you give Xingqiu stink eyes before turning your attention back to the watermelon popsicle, occasionally look down at his grip to find an escape route. You don’t believe you can’t escape from his grasp!

The hydro user doesn’t let your hand go after he finished his popsicle, instead, he slumps down with one cheek resting in his hand, staring at your face blatantly. You don’t usually mind but being gawked at while eating isn’t as comfortable as you thought.

“ What?” Finally, you look up to face the mischievous blue boy.

“ Can I have a bite?”

“ Obviously n-” He doesn’t wait for your answer and leans in. Your first reaction is to be dodged away, but the sneak has your wrist pinned on the grass, forcing you to stay still.

As soon as you realize your immobile state, Xingqiu is a few inches away from your face, licking the popsicle, and then biting off the edge near the stick. His smooth cheek brushes past your fingers, the deep blue locks fall on his face. From here, you inhale a hint of mint and sweet vanilla. Instead of the familiar scent of woodsy musky of old books, you notice a whiff of summer and salt on him.

Stunted by his sudden closeness, you remain to freeze even after he pulls away.

“W-wh-what did you j-just do?” To your horror, you stutter. Not once, but twice.

“Eat your popsicle.”

As nonchalant as ever, he shrugs while swiping the remains on his lips, like he isn’t the one who just leans in so close to you. You are too dazed to even realize the popsicle hang close to your mouth is dripping down your clothes.

Startle at the coldness, you hastily look down and scrunch your face at the mess. Ugh, it’s because of him, again!

“ Need me to eat that for you?” he offers, but you swear you hear a hint of playfulness glinting in his voice. Quickly, you bite off the remaining before he can steal another bite, forget how sensitive your gum is. The result, you can already imagine, is brain freeze.

Hissing at the sudden burst of frost blooming in your mouth, unconsciously grab on Xingqiu, squeezing his hand tightly while squirming vigorously. You shouldn’t have bitten off the whole thing, even when it melts. Hand in hand, you can feel the warmth of his fingers caressing your wrist, and they slowly move down and intertwine with yours. That opportunistic guy.

During that heated moment, you remember yourself instinctively looking for a source of heat. At one point, your brain decided to throw the remaining sanity out the window. It convinces your body that the crook of his neck is the best source of warmth to melt the overbearing sensation in your mouth. And your body decides to do without giving another thought.

Face buries deep in his neck, you are engulfed in his strong musky scent, naturally, you freeze dead on your track.

What have you done?

How do you get up?

How can you look at his eyes now?

With the dreading thoughts constantly running around your mind, you can only hit your head on his shoulder blade in shame, earning a rumbling chuckle from the young man.

“ Don’t laugh!” Your whiny voice is muffled by his clothes. Upon your request, he doesn’t stop at a chuckle but starts to wheeze, chest rumbling. Your cheeks burn crisp with embarrassment, yet you can’t find a single hole to hide.

“ Hahaha… Why did you do that?” He bursts out ungracefully, his shoulder shaking vividly. Xingqiu is teasing you on purpose!!

You also want to ask why did you do that too. Why did you do that without even thinking about the consequence again?

“ Stop laughing!” The audacity of this boy, after you told him to stop laughing, he snorts louder and teases you more. You thought this chivalrous nobleman would only snort for a few minutes, then he would comfort you like the novel. Too bad, life isn’t as predictable as the novels. What you expect is the comforting hug, or his hand patting your head reassuringly. What you get instead is a never-ending tease and the constant re-telling of the scenario in an out-of-breath voice.

Moving away from his neck, you pout and sulky. Despite being under the shade and cool sea breezes, you feel the heat rushing at the back of your neck and on your cheeks, a friendly reminder. Fingers fondling the edge of your shirt, you pretend to be deaf at the puff of his laugh. Is it too late for you to move to Inazuma and never see him again?

Actually, it might be better to start avoiding than do nothing.

You attempt to stand up abruptly and prepare to sprint off, fleeing away from the young hydro user who is making himself relax next to you.

Notice the use of the word here: “attempt”.

Xingqiu quickly sees through your plan before you can start it.

Unlike last time, he saw your movement and stopped your hand in the mid-air. This time, he is a step ahead and caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head toward him, his mesmerizing golden eyes pierce through you.

Catch-off-guard by his sudden closeness, the unsuccessful plan is extinguished at the back of your head.

Out of everything, why would he choose this way for your attention? You feel like you have no sanity left every time he does something intimate.

How weak are you for him?

The deep amber orbs study you intently like he’s trying to ingrain your face into his memories. The glimmering eyes always full of mischief and playfulness now is like an abyss, easily pull you in and spiraling into the darkness. The bubbly, transparent Xingqiu is replaced by a mature, mysterious, and charismatic man.

The distance between you slowly shorten, and finally, he’s a breath away. You nervously hold your breath, eyes widen at his every movement. Being this close, you can see his fluttering lashes, his sudden quicken breathing, and his plump lips dangling like a piece of meat in front of your hungry gaze. What is this feeling of heat rising up to your chest?

Like a moth drawn into flame, your eyes follow when his tongue darts out to wet the soft kissable pad, his lips transform into pinkish color, just like the watermelon popsicle.

Butterflies roaming inside your stomach, your fuzzy mind lets out a weak resistance, telling you to turn away, escape from the cradle of his finger on your chin.

However, your instinct gives in.

You part your lips and angle up, time stops when his lips meet yours. It is a light brush, yet you can feel your heart pounding wildly inside your chest as the mint frosty scent invades your sense. Your breath slowly turns labored, yet all you can focus on is how soft he felt on your lips and how addicting he’s tasting on your tongue.

When your visions start to blur, and your legs threaten to give out, you finally decide to part away, but the hydro user has his hands cupping on your cheek doesn't think so.

“Let me taste you again.” Xingqiu whispers, his voice deep and smooth like velvet.

And then he pulls you in, claiming your mouth again, passionate and intense. He tastes like the watermelon popsicle you just ate, like a sunny summer you used to love, like a soaring kite in the sky.

You don’t think you hate the feeling of his lips on yours.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin xingqiu #summer #hot weather #popsicle #a kiss #clarissalance #no beta we kayak like tim #fluff #romance #friend to lovers #xingqiu x reader #xingqiu x y/n #oneshot #beach #sweating like hell #I proofread this with no wifi ;-;

135 notes · View notes

qingxin-s · 4 years

Text

༉₊˚✧ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ : xɪᴀᴏ x ꜰ.ᴀʀᴄʜᴏɴ.ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

synopsis: [y/n], the goddess of hydro, is adamant on fighting in the archon war- desperate to protect her people and nation. xiao however grows to regret letting her take part

genre: angst to fluff

word count: 1,195

warning(s): mentions of injury + blood, mentions of character death, not proof read fully so may be some mistakes

taglist: @senkuwu-chan

◈ ━━━━━━ 2,000 years ago ━━━━━━ ◈

Wind tapped against the silk curtains, causing them to billow around her figure as she stood on her balcony- looking out at the region she adored so much. But it wasn't the same. The crisp smell of salt water that fluttered through the air had been replaced with the stench of charcoal. The lapis sky had been replaced with dark clouds. Every time more damage occurred to the town, it felt like part of her broke along side it.

"Madame, your weapons are ready" A low voice spoke, breaking her out of her thoughts and causing her to turn her h/c haired head towards them. It was one of her assistants, a large polearm placed on a pillow in their hands.

"Thank you, my dear. I'll be ready in a moment" She smiled in return, walking over to pluck up the weapon. It was light, but she could tell it would pack a lot of punch.

"I've never fought in a war before" She murmured, her e/c hues flickering up to her open window where a figure now stood. This had become the usual thing, she learned to recognise his presence. He huffed in response, taking a few steps inside.

"I still think you're being idiotic, (Y/N). You have no experience, you can't protect them forever" He huffed as his yellow eyes narrowed, and she smiled sweetly in response. By the tone of his voice, she could tell he too was anxious. There had been a rise in the amount of demons spotted in the areas around Liyue, and he was constantly overworking himself to fend them off. She adjusted the polearm in her gloved hands as she stepped towards him.

"You worry too much, Xiao. I'm going to be fine, Fontaine will live to see another day" (Y/N) sighed as she looked back out the window, not noticing his tensed physic. The two had become well acquainted shortly after he was dispatched to fend of the demons, and their bond had only grown since.

"It's not Fontaine i'm worried about. It's you, and you know that" Xiao growled, but she was quick to place her palm on his cheek- which he instantly melted into. He didn't mean to snap like that...he was just worried sick. He didn't want to lose her.

If he lost her, he'd lose part of himself.

"I'm going to be okay. I promise you" She whispered, her palm curling slightly and her thumb brushing over his cheek. Her touch was warm, comforting. Xiao didn't notice that his hands were balled into fists, it was only when he looked down at the floor to avoid her gaze that he realized.

"I'll see you after, Alatus" (Y/N) said softly as she broke away from him, and he so desperately wanted to reach out and throw his arms around her- preventing her from leaving. But all he could do was watch as she walked away.

◈ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ◈

The war raged for days...and days...and days. And the more she fought, the more she realized the Yaksha was right. She had no battle experience whatsoever, and the most she had ever used her powers for was healing her people. So she was completely and utterly exhausted. Not to mention...she was injured.

A cry left her lips as she collapsed to the sand, feeling numb to the waves of salt water that washed over her as she curled up. Decarabian had gotten the better of her, his attack impaling her and injuring her gravely. He was here to gain yet more power, just to hold over his peoples heads like bait. He was a monster.

Normally for any injuries she may receive, she would just heal them. It was simple and always incredibly effective. But as her life slipped away from her bit by bit, so did her ability to heal. She spluttered as a wave hit her, the water turning crimson as it mixed with her blood. This is what she got for fighting in her human vessel...and for being weak.

"Xiao..." She coughed as the pain she was experiencing melted away, her eyes feeling heavier and heavier with each passing second. Images of the yaksha flashed through her brain as she rested her head on the gritty sand, and a smile graced her chapped lips.

"So long"

◈ ━━━━━━ Now ━━━━━━ ◈

Not a day passed when the yaksha didn't hate himself with every fibre of his being. Not a day passed where he didn't think of the hydro archon. Where was she to calm him down? Where was she to progress through life with him?

Why did her life have to be taken? Why was he the one to come across her lifeless body?

Fontaine seemed to have moved on quickly after her death, even welcoming a new person to take over her power. How dare they? It happened so long ago, but the rage still bubbled inside him like it happened yesterday. The only ones that seemed to care about her death apart from him was Barbatos and Morax- but even then, they didn't fully understand.

They didn't fully understand why he distanced himself, refusing to talk to anyone when he could avoid it. Refusing to take breaks from his work of purging demons off the face of the Earth.

"Xiao, you're scowling" Verr Goldet spoke as she wiped down her desk, causing him to knit his eyebrows even more. All he wanted to do was eat his almond tofu- it was one of the only things he had left to remember her. She had taught him how to make it one day when she was feeling hungry, and it quickly became his favourite thing. He pushed it around with his fork, staring down at it intently. If he ignored the boss, maybe she'd leave him alone.

"Excuse me, I hope i'm not too late. I was wondering if you had any rooms available" A kind voice asked, and his heart skipped a beat. Why was this voice...so familiar? He was just overthinking things, after all- he was just reminiscing on their time together. He heard the boss shuffling around as she flicked through paperwork and finally, he heard the noise of a key.

"Of course. Please take the staircase up next to the young man over there, it's the first room you see" The boss bowed, and he could hear the mystery girl express her thanks. He heard footsteps approach him as she walked towards the staircase and without meaning to, his amber hues looked up- and his body froze.

He was greeted with the same h/c haired hair he loved so dearly. The same e/c orbs that he could get lost in. The same kind smile that guided him away from darkness. How could this be? Her eyes met his, and she sent him a grin- and he quickly jumped up from his seat. He wanted to reach his hand towards her, to hold her in his arms and breath in the salt fragrance he adored so much.

"(Y/N)!" Xiao called as she walked past him, and she froze in her tracks. Slowly, she turned to him- tears rolling down her face as he stumbled towards her.

"I haven't heard that name in so long"

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #xiao genshin impact #xiao x reader #xiao x you #anime #fanfic #oneshot #x reader

283 notes · View notes

dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

You're My Home Too | Loki Laufeyson

Hey lovelies happy Saturday! I hope you all have had a lovely day! Here is the first Loki "drabble" of the event, please do enjoy and make sure to take care of yourselves today!

Appetizers (Tags): Angst, Fluff

Entres (Pairing): Loki x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 6: “You’re all I have.” “You’re all I have too, you know?”

Notes: None, Requested by Anon

Word Count: 2.2k

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

She watches as the black haired god tilts his head, eyes locked on his brother. It looks like he’s nodding along, agreeing to something Thor has said, but she can see it— the way his pupils dart across the blonde’s face, flitting over his shoulder before returning, latching on a different spot. It’s unnerving to watch him be so docile. So passive— not at all like the usual, fiery tempered, grinning god of mischief. She’s never seen him look so blank. Something’s definitely wrong.

She has a feeling she knows what it is, too. If she’s right then it’s the same reason she laid awake all night, curled on her side of Loki’s bed, listening to the sound of his steady breathing until the sun came up. She can practically hear the conversation— Thor’s been itching to go home for weeks now. Somehow they’ve always managed to get held up each time— saving the world and what not. Now, though, there’s nothing keeping them. No androids or aliens or wizards. Just her— the best friend— and that’s not going to cut it.

Loki’s eyes flick to hers, blue irises somehow vibrant even from across the room, and she forces the corners of her lips to turn up, an attempt at flaking off the frown that she’s sure has been plastered on her face all morning. If his frown is anything to go by, however, then she would say that it doesn’t work out. Oh well— she didn’t really expect it would.

He can sense lies and even if he couldn’t he would still be able to read her like a book. Half the time it feels like he’s more in her head then she is, always figuring out what she wants before she can think it let alone say it aloud. Usually that’s followed by him dropping whatever he’s doing to get it for her. Unless, of course, it’s a hug— then he’s dropping whatever he’s doing and pulling her into his arms.

Who’s going to hug her if he’s a galaxy away?

Is it even a galaxy? Surely it’s more. A dimension away. Her stomach tosses, the sting in her chest mixing with a wave of the nausea she’s been fighting all morning. A combination of not eating— not being hungry enough to eat— and sadness. No not sadness— grief. Sadness feels easier. It’s waving your best friend off to college— not to another fucking world. This isn’t sadness— this is losing everything she has come to need for an entire year. Warmth and protection and his sea-salt skin and elegant voice. Who else is going to speak so gently to her when he’s gone?

“Dove—” she blinks and he’s suddenly there, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch where she's been sitting for the past hour, legs curled under her and all the way numb— “what’s wrong?”

His dark brows crease together, his hand snaking from his side and reaching for hers. She offers him another pathetic half-smile, tangling her fingers with his long ones and shaking her head slightly. “Nothing, Loki. How’d your talk go?”

She doesn’t miss the way he winces. He tries to hide it, replicating her tilted lips with his own, but, like her, his eyes don’t follow suit. Instead they flash with something that looks too much like dread for her to keep her act up. When her mouth creases into a frown, so does his. It’s all she needs to know— he really is leaving her.

“My brother misses home.” The god reaches out his other hand and— like everything they seem to do— she copies him, meeting him halfway and lacing those fingers together as well. He runs his thumb over hers, his blue eyes intense— worried. “There are a few things we have to sort out. They’re getting impatient.”

They’re. That could mean so many things. It could mean his people— the asgardians. It could mean his family— it definitely means Thor, the god who she can hear pacing from the kitchen. Her eyes pool over the features of the man in front of her, landing on the circles under his eyes. Does it mean him too? Has she been keeping him from going home? The thought makes her throat sting— of course she has. She’s been so stupid, clinging to a literal god. Of course he would have to go home at some point. She was only fooling herself thinking he would stay with her. What’s upstate New York when you have a celestial castle or whatever the hell it is he has?

“Dove?”

She blinks again, zoning back into his even more concerned stare— shit.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, squeezing his hands if only to ground herself against slipping away again. “That sounds important. Your, uh, your kingdom needs you.”

I need you too, though.

It feels like her heart is lodged in her throat and that she’s speaking around it. When she swallows it doesn’t go away— if anything it grows, tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to fall. She hates how selfish she feels. He doesn’t belong to her— he doesn’t belong with her— and she should feel lucky to have called him her friend for this long. Still she can’t help but wonder what her days will look like without him. Empty. Boring. Terrifying. She has friends here but it isn’t the same. The connection isn’t the same— the warmth and smiles and laughter aren’t the same.

She isn’t just losing her best friend, she’s losing her home.

And she breaks.

And he notices.

God, he always notices.

She supposes with the tears now streaming down her face, though, that she can’t exactly blame him for that one. It’s a little noticeable. What she will blame him for is how he releases her hands, instead rising to his full height and settling on the couch, angling his lithe body towards her and wrapping his arms around her stomach. He waits— one beat, two beats— for her to turn as well, pushing up on her knees and throwing her arms around his shoulders. She holds him tight— tighter than she can confidently say she has ever held him before. She has to— it’ll very likely be the last chance she gets. She has to memorize it— him.

“I’m sorry,” she laughs bitterly. It’s more of a sob— the kind that catches in her throat, getting stuck between silent and booming. “I’m being silly.”

Loki shakes his head— she can’t see it but she can feel his jaw brushing her hair, his hands pushing her closer to his chest. She digs her fingers into his jumper, scrunching the green wool like somehow it’ll make this all okay. His hand runs up her back, curling it around the nape of her neck, hand cool and soft.

“No you aren’t.” He murmurs, face still pressed against her hair, and she fights back more tears— he’s too gentle with her.

She doesn’t say anything right away, she just sinks against him, biting her lip and forcing herself to just be in the moment. He smells like rain today. It’s always different— always changing— but today he smells like the summer pavement before a three day thunderstorm hits and it feels fitting.

After a few moments she finally pulls away, tugging against his hold and running the heel of her hand under her eyes. He doesn’t give her much leave, only a few inches to be able to look up at him, blinking away the blurriness of her glassy eyes and sniffling. His lips are pressed together, his head tilted again. Unlike with his brother, though, his eyes never stray from hers. As always, it makes her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing in the way only he can seem to do.

She finally brings herself to ask the hard question— the one that’s been hanging around them for weeks. “When are you leaving?”

His fingers on her spine tense— that can’t mean anything good.

“Today, dove.”

“Oh.”

She doesn’t know what else to say— that and if she says anything more she’s afraid she might start sobbing again. Sobbing or just stop breathing altogether. Today? She couldn’t have had one more night with him? You’ve already had ‘one more night’ for four weeks, the little voice in her head reminds her. It’s time to let him go. She slips her hands around his arms— easier said than done. She knows that once he leaves her life will change— and it might never go back to normal.

Loki’s eyes flash, the blue darkening, a crease forming between his brows. He opens his mouth but no words come out and soon he’s pressing his lips together again, the dejection in his eyes and aura tangible. She has to say something— she can’t leave it on this note. She just has no idea what to say. No idea how to say goodbye.

So she doesn’t.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?” She pushes her lips into the tortured smile again, muttering the words.

She’s sure he would have forced himself to laugh—

“I want you to come with me.”

— were it not for him speaking at the same time.

Her heart stops when his words flit past her eardrums. “What?”

She must be dreaming— there’s no way he just said what she thinks he said. It has to be her imagination playing a cruel trick on her. Trying to protect her from the pain until the last second. But no, that’s not right, now when his cool hands move from her back to her cheeks, his thumbs running over her cheekbones and drawing her back to him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against hers and she gasps— she can’t help it. His skin is so soft that her eyes flutter close.

“I said I want you to come home with me, dove.” His nose brushes against hers, his words entirely soft.

She’s speechless— completely and utterly floored. “To Asgard?”

He chuckles, minty breath fanning her lips. “Yes, to Asgard.”

She pulls back, head so fuzzy she almost topples over from the motion, hands curling tighter to keep from falling. He really wants her to go home with him? Just like that her heart starts beating again, kicking starting her pulse which begins hammering as the notion of staying with him starts to become clear. He’s not leaving?

“But—” she stammers, blinking rapidly as she tries to form a coherent thought— “why me?”

For a moment he just looks at her, his brows knitting together once more, his eyes filling with something she can’t decipher. He kind of looks confused. Only she could confuse a god. She almost slaps herself, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Why the heck would you ask him that you idiot? Now he’s not gonna’ want to take you with—

“Because you’re all I have.”

He says it so nonchalantly— like it’s a fact and not a confession that makes her very essence roar. She supposes that to him it is just a fact. That when you’re all powerful speaking your mind is normal. It is just a fact and she is just a girl and he is just a god. Fact, fact, facts. Her head spins. This— he— cannot be real.

“I—” That’s as far as she gets before her sentence drops, mouth gaping but empty.

Thankfully he picks it up, continuing his unconcerned profession.

“It’s not home if you’re not with me, my little midgardian. Not anymore.” He shrugs and she almost chokes— how is he saying this so calmly when she feels like she’s going to combust? “I really think you’d like it, actually. It’s very pretty— lots of gardens. Oh, and the library! You would enjoy the library.” He tilts his head, his eyes fading out slightly as he thinks about his home. “I’m sure there will be a ball of some sort when we arrive home. I know, I know— you don’t like big events but—”

This time she’s the one who places her hands on his cheeks, shaking her head, letting the first euphoric giggle out. “Of course I’ll go, Loki.”

A grin spreads across his lips, his eyes widening like he just won the lottery as he leans forward, connecting them once again. It makes her heart jump in her chest. What did he think she was going to say? No? She giggles when his lips press against her cheek, her nose scrunching. He must notice because his mouth curves even more against her skin. Soon his lips aren’t just on her cheek but on her forehead and chin and nose as well.

“Even if we have to go to a ball?” He teases, his voice lighter than she’s heard it in weeks.

“Even then.” She confirms, fingers gliding into his hair and tangling them in the silky strands. She takes a deep breath, nerves thrumming as she adds softly. “You’re all I have too, you know? You’re my home too.”

Loki hums happily against her skin, taking her own confession the same way he had made his own— easily. It’s the best outcome she could have hoped for. She can’t wipe the wide smile from her lips as he wraps his arms properly around her once more. It’s not long before his lips find her ear, soft words echoing against her skin.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?”

#Loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki x reader #Loki x y/n #Loki Laufeyson x reader #Loki Laufeyson x y/n #Loki fic #Loki imagine #Loki Laufeyson fic #Loki Laufeyson imagine #Loki fluff #mcu #mcu fic #marvel cinematic universe #Dinner at Dizzy's

210 notes · View notes

heavenunderthemoon · 4 years

Text

Olly, Olly, Oxen Free {Hotch x daughter!reader}

Warnings: PLEASE, be advised of the SEVERE mentions of gun violence, murder, death, etc. This is a heavy piece, so please, please, please, do not put yourself at risk to read this, if you would like to know the plot without reading let me know and I will accommodate as best as I can!

This is set in “100″, so, daughter!reader is currently trapped with foyet in her childhood home. Alright, enjoy.

"Y/N."

You sprung from your place on the floor, watching your brother retreat past the living room, his feet happily climbing the old route he used to take in the childhood home he was raised in. You doubted he forgot it so soon, even with his young age. This was the house they had made home. Over the last year, you would've done anything to be back in this house, surrounded by the memories of your past life. The life in which you weren't forced into the witness protection program, abandoning all of your friends due to a serial killer hellbent on destroying your father's life.

Your hand reached out, gently grabbing the cellphone extending from the hands of your mother's.

"Dad."

You forced herself to sound calm, composed. Sitting only ten feet from you was a man who had previously shoved a blade into your father's abdomen just to prove a point. You figured seeming weak wasn't particularly a good idea.

There was the hum of an engine, one that you knew well. When you was younger- much younger- you used to wait up for you father to come home from cases. Most nights you fell asleep before he came back, but on the rare occasion you actually made it past midnight, you could hear that very same hum of his government issued SUV pulling into the driveway, subsequently causing you to dart out of bed to jump into his waiting arms. It never mattered to you that you would receive a scolding from your mother for not going to bed at a proper time, not when you would see the smile that grew on her father's face when you accomplished your goal.

That smile, so rare and so blinding, hardly even captured in pictures. Your father was a tired man, a hardworking man, a dedicated father, but all of his good qualities had hardened into stone from the heat of his job and sometimes you feared that eventually, even you might not be able to crack that tough exterior. It seemed silly, sure, but your mother used to be able to find the chinks in his armor, used to make him laugh and smile and love and then one day she couldn't and who was to say that it wouldn't happen to you too?

"Y/N/N, I love you, you know that?" He used the nickname Jack had accidentally given you. When he was just learning to talk, the boy was unable to fully pronounce your name and you had been stuck with it ever since. You used to hate it- or, at least pretend to, but you could never yell at Jack. The boy was too good at absolutely melting you.

Your father's voice, which was typically strong and gruff, came out a bit cracked. It filled you with a sinking feeling. If your father wasn't composed then how the hell were you supposed to be?

The man who hoisted you on his shoulders every Fourth of July to see the fireworks better, or grabbed every spider that made you scream for your life. The man who taught you how to swing a baseball bat and then immediately yelled because you whacked him right in the knee. A fearless, strong, admittedly taciturn man that was making abundantly clear the ambiguity of your future.

You swallowed down that fear, you couldn't afford to be afraid right now. Y/E/C eyes looked up to your mother. She was still beside you, looking at her daughter as if trying to engrain every single facet of your face in her mind, burning the image of her daughter into her memory.

"I know, I love you too." You didn't know how you managed to keep your voice so even but to anyone listening it sounded like a normal conversation. She could almost imagine they were sitting at a dinner table (something they hadn't done in a year because of the Witness Protection Program).

Pass the salt. She would've said.

"I need you to listen to me carefully, Bug." If you hadn't been so worried that you might die soon you might've found yourself scolding the man not to use that nickname anymore. After your friends had slept over in seventh grade and heard your father use it you were teased relentlessly, but now you didn't mind it. You didn't mind your father using a nickname you hated. You didn't mind a lot of things now that you were facing death, serial killer breathing the same air as you and your mother, standing in your living room, staring at you with cold, calculating eyes.

It's funny how little things matter when death enters the picture.

"Remember when I taught you to drive?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you glanced to your mother, trying to keep your face void of emotion.

You hadn't learned to drive. You had begged your father, of course, but he had said no. You remembered the fight that had ensued, his words loud just to overpower your teenaged protests. "There's no use learning to drive when your mother's here, sometimes me, and the metro, it's useless. It would do you better to learn something more useful, like shooting a gun."

Oh.

The sinking feeling returned in the pit of your stomach. Or maybe it just never left. Your eyes hardened with resolve over what you knew her father was asking you to do, and you nodded.

"Yeah."

A tiny breath of air left your parted lips, and even with the confusion laced on her mother's features and the amusement playing on Foyet's, your mind cleared a bit.

Frontside. Trigger press. Follow through.

"I'm a terrible driver." You murmured to her father. Your hand began to sweat at what he was asking of you. You recalled the shooting lessons. It had been a year or so ago, the man wanting you to be prepared for anything and then he had been shot and you hadn't seen him since. Even with the little practice, you hadn't been too bad, but this was nothing like the shooting range. This was pointing a gun at a killer and hoping to anything that was good and holy that you didn't miss. Even so, who said you could get to the gun before Foyet got to you?

"You're good enough."

Good enough. You wanted to scream.

Foyet rose from his spot on the floor, and Haley stiffened in her place.

"I think that's good enough, right, Y/N?" The way he moved, eyes trained onto you, alight with a kind of...mischief? Yes, mischief. Like an adolescent boy who just found his father's stash of fireworks. His body moved like a predator. Refined, sophisticated, and calculated.

And, as he moved closer, you could smell him. He didn't smell like you thought a killer would smell. Though, to be fair, you hadn't ever given much thought to the scent of a killer. Maybe you thought that someone capable of such dirty, heinous crimes would smell as such. Like the rotten core would seep through their pores and become a putrid scent recognizable to those surrounding him. Instead, he smelt clean. Like laundry detergent and freshly washed hair. The hand that didn't hold the gun reached up, taking a strand of your hair into his fingers and running it through them deftly.

"Don't touch me." You pushed him back on instinct and, not seeming to expect such force, the man was shoved back two steps. Rather than cocking the gun right then and there, Foyet looked at you with interest and then, he did something you didn't expect. He smiled.

A laugh fell through his lips. It bubbled and boiled and hit your ears like nails on a chalkboard.

"Wow, you've got a feisty one, Aaron. I think she gets that from you, the old ball and chain over here is a bit of a whiner." He chuckled to himself like he said the world's funniest joke, and you glared.

"Leave them alone." Your father may as well have been on mute because the killer paid no mind to his orders.

He breathed in a deep sigh, looking at you with those same bright, calculated eyes. Then, as if coming to a consensus, tilted his head. "How about this, how about you go hide, I'll give you a head start, and then I'll come find you."

You could feel her mother bristle from beside you, quiet whimpers coming from her mouth. The hum of the engine played in the background, and the wind chimes on the front porch sang a tune with the breeze. "No." You said firmly.

Foyet pouted, going to stand closer to the two. With each step he took closer to the two of you, it felt like a nail going into her coffin. You could see the twitch in his hands, as if itching to plunge a blade into your mother's flesh, yet, you couldn't just leave your mother. You couldn't leave her to die.

"Ah, come on. You're a teenager- a teenage girl, no less, aren't you guys supposed to be fun?" His tone was teasing and coupled with his non-imposing figure, he shouldn't have been able to chill you with his words but the way his eyes bored into yours they did.

You felt a hand on your elbow, a nudge and you glanced back to your mother. Haley was smaller than you, it had been that way for about a year or so now. You had hit a growth spurt once you entered high school, inheriting your father's height, and it caused you to be a couple inches taller than your mother. Her eyes were filled with tears that were streaming down her face without care. You had seen her mother cry more than most daughters should.

Haley liked to cry at night, after putting her children to bed. She didn't think about how often you stayed up, listening to the sobbing on the other side of the wall.

A hand cupped your face, and you leaned into the warmth. How many fights had you two gotten in over the past year? You had always been a daddy's girl. He was never home, and it left your mother to be the 'bad guy' in most situations. And then, you all had been forced to pack up your lives and vanish. That year had been filled with nights of yelling at each other. Fights about small things. Like, your music playing too loud, or drinking too much coffee. And big stuff too. Like, you confronting your mother about having an affair.

Your relationship had been rocky. But, she was still your mother. She still reminded you to wear a coat when it was cold out, or washed your sheets when you felt sick. She made your favorite meals when you were sad, and bought nail polish that she thought you would like. She was your mother, and you didn't think you would ever be able to ignore that.

"Y/N, go." Her words were stern, and it reminded you of a scolding. But your mother's lips were tugging at the corners, and she was caressing your cheek so softly that you thought you would collapse right there. Your heart clenched at the sight of your mother.

Would this be the last time you saw her? The thought made you want to scream, cry, and punch something all at once.

For the first time that afternoon, you let your mask slip. Your eyes welled with tears, lip trembling. "Mom, no." it came out shaky, and you didn't have to turn around to see Foyet smiling at the way he could make an entire family fear for their lives in a mere couple of minutes. You could simply feel it.

Haley nodded, both her hands cupping your face now, scanning it over and over again. Your eyes, a fierceness to them that mimicked her own. A button nose that sat above rosy pink lips. On your chin, a small scar. You were an adventurous child. You hadn't been afraid to climb the monkey bars despite being far too small for them and when you had fallen off, you had busted the skin open. Haley remembered being panicked, seeing you covered in blood, rushing you to the hospital, to find that you were calmer than she was. That's how you always were. You were never scared. You were brave and fearless and kind and even if you played awful, punk alternative music that made Haley's ears want to bleed, you were such a sweet girl with a big heart. The mother stood on her tiptoes, kissing your forehead.

You let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, trying to burn the memory of her mother's lips on your forehead in your mind. And when you opened them again, you tried to burn the image of your mother as well. Even now, red eyed and sniffling, your mother was beautiful. Everyone always told you, you looked just like your mother. Haley used to have blonde hair. It had passed her shoulders and you used to beg her to play hair salon because of it. She had cut it after the divorce and you had a suspicion that it was because she craved change. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, just like yours. It made her skin pull taut when she smiled. Her nose was soft and dainty- something you had always been jealous of.

What if you never saw your mother smile again?

Haley was nodding, nodding and patting the girl's cheek and it took you a moment to realize she was speaking once more. "Go, baby. I'll be okay."

No, you won't. You wanted to say. You wanted to let your body fall into your mother's arms and have the woman hold you like she did when you were a child. You wanted to feel your mother's hands run through your hair and hear the woman sing you to sleep. You didn't care how childish it seemed, you just wanted your mother.

Your shoulders shook and you fought to keep your emotions from consuming you.

"I- I love you." It was a desperate attempt at closure but it did nothing to make you feel better. It only made your mother smile.

"I love you too." Haley gave one final pat before a light shove and you felt numb. You couldn't feel yourself hand the phone to your mother, nor could you feel your feet move in the desired direction. Everything in you felt like it was simultaneously being doused in cold water and burned in hot flames. Your mind kept screaming at you to go back. Turn around, grab your mother and hope for the best but you could hear Foyet talking with your mother now and she knew that your father had told you what to do next.

It was weird.

All the nights you had spent in that stupid witness protection program, closing your eyes imagining you were back in your childhood home. You would pretend you were back in your room, waiting for your father to come home. You would pretend your mother was putting Jack to sleep and you would pretend that everything was normal. Now you were back and everything was wrong.

Focus.

After teaching you how to properly use a gun, Aaron had told you where one could be found in cases of dire emergencies. Your feet stepped lightly, moving as swiftly as you could. The laces on your converse slapped against the sides of the shoes and you silently pulled open your father's nightstand. It hadn't been touched since you all had moved out. It was normal upon first glance. A couple of papers, reading glasses, sleeping pills. You knew better.

You pulled at the string on the bottom, the false top giving in immediately and revealing the silver .38. You grabbed for it, cocking it as quietly as you could. The weapon was heavy, yet, familiar in your hand. You thought that in a time like this you would be more shaky, but all you could focus on was your mother's quiet sobs from the living room a whole story down.

The sound gave you hope. If she could cry, then she was alive. You pushed on with that thought in mind, rounding the corner. Just before you could head back downstairs and possibly take down Foyet, you heard it.

Gunshots.

Your mother cried out the first time, but it was completely silent after the second two. Just the light thud of a body hitting the floor.

You bit down on your cheek to keep herself from screaming. The taste of blood followed soon after. Your hand rose to your mouth, attempting to muffle the cries that attempted to escape.

"Y/N!" A sing song-y voice called out. There was a thumping sound on the stairs and after a sickening moment, you realized it was the sound of your mother's body hitting the wood. He was dragging her up the stairs, wanting to display her just how he liked. Your eyes burned and you let the tears fall down your cheeks without care. They dripped off your chin, falling onto your shirt. It was a band t-shirt. Your mother hated it, said that the swords were too violent, but she allowed you to wear it anyways.

You darted into the closest door- Jack's old room- eye's scanning your surroundings for a plan. Whatever Foyet was doing, you knew you didn't have much time until he was coming after you.

"I just wanna play, Y/N. Come out, come out wherever you are." He sang out. He must've taken your mother- your mother's body, you corrected yourself bitterly- to your parents bedroom. With a chilling realization, you remembered you had been there only moments before. He was close to you.

Your eyes landed on the closet, overflowing with toys, even months after not being in use. Jack tended to get whatever he asked for- not that he was spoiled, he was just hard to say no to. It wasn't difficult to squeeze into it, leaving the door open a crack. The gun sat in your hands ready and waiting.

You steadied the sound of your breathing.

How was you going to tell Jack about mom? Well that was a bit optimistic, now, wasn't it? Presumptuous of you to think you would live through the next five minutes to be able to tell your little brother that our mother was dead, You thought bitterly.

"I think I'll lay your body right next to your Mom. You'd like that, wouldn't you? So you can be together?" He was in the hallway, and even with the barrier of Jack's door and the closet door, the sound of his voice made you shiver. It was smooth, charming, even. If you hadn't known he was a complete psychopath you wouldn't have given the man much thought. You wouldn't have thought him capable of doing the heinous acts he had done.

There was a creak, the door opening to the room and your arms rose slightly. Your eyes were peaking through the crack, your heart racing. You could see the man moving into the room, searching for his next prey- and that's what he thought you were. Prey. He thought you were an easy target. Everyone did.

Everyone thought you were just some stupid kid. Some people said it outright and others just assumed. You could tell when you first met your father's team, some of them had stereotyped you as well. They had asked her about school and about boys and gossip, because they assumed that was all you were capable of speaking about and then you had surprised them by mentioning books and Neo-noir films. You were accustomed to being underestimated. And you were betting your life that George Foyet was doing the same.

As soon as you saw the man move into the middle of the room, you sprung. The door flew open and before you could hesitate, you pulled the trigger. Pure shock could've been the reason, you were able to get out of the room. Or perhaps you had managed to shoot him in the head and end your family's suffering once and for all. You weren't sure because you were moving purely on instinct. Your feet carried you through the house, jumping over toys and broken chairs and bloodstains that weren't there before.

"You bitch!"

Okay, so he was alive. He was chasing after you but you didn't look back. You jumped into the linen closet, out of breath but not allowing yourself to pant as you wanted to. You could hear the slight groans of the man as he made his way through the house, though it was farther, as if he was walking in the wrong direction. You had slowed him down, that's for sure. The gun in your hand felt warm, like a pat on the back, but the thought of your mother's dead body lying somewhere in the house sat in the back of your mind.

Where was Jack? You thought briefly. You had to trust that he was safe. Trust and pray that whatever their dad had said to him had made sense. You hoped he couldn't hear anything that was going on. That he didn't hear the sound of your mother being murdered and you shooting the killer.

You felt the towel shelf press into your back, but you didn't dare move anymore. You were sure Foyet hadn't died now. If anything, you might've made him more angry.

It smelled like fresh laundry in the small space and it reminded you of Sunday nights. Your father was usually home, cases typically being taken during the week and coming home Saturday nights. That's why you liked Sundays so much. You liked waking up to the smell of pancakes while your father played a Beatles album. He would sing into a spatula and twirl your mother around the kitchen. And Haley would laugh and tell him to stop, but she never actually meant it. And, when he noticed you coming down the stairs, he would take you in his arms- no matter how big and tall you had gotten, he never stopped doing it. He would spin you around as well and when you was little you would dance on his feet, but when you were older, your bare feet would touch the cold hardwood floor.

Your mother would do crossword and pretend not to notice that your father was giving not-so-subtle hints every so often. Your father would have you catch him up on what you had been up to that week, and you would have to help Jack read through the comics because he didn't really understand the jokes. Sundays were your favorite days because instead of being a separate family like they were every other day, they were all together and it felt normal.

You closed her eyes, trying to imagine it was Sunday.

A large clatter rang out, effectively snapping you from your thoughts. You could hear footsteps, fighting, yelling. It was hard to tell how long you waited in the closet, gun pressed to your chest. You could hear someone outside the door, light footsteps against hardwood.

The light on the bottom was obscured from a large shadow and you tried to prepare yourself. What would death feel like? Maybe you was selfish, or maybe you were a coward, but you didn't want to know. You wanted to stomp your foot and say that it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that your mother was dead. It wasn't fair that you were about to die. The door was ripped open and you extended your arms, about to shoot blindly, when you saw who was before you.

"Woah, hey, Y/N. Y/N, look at me."

You had stopped crying long ago, but your entire body was shaking. There was so much tension in your shoulders, it felt like somebody had tied you up entirely, slowly but surely squeezing the life out of you. You hadn't realized it before, much too focused in getting as far away from the serial killer in your house as possible, but when you had shot Foyet, some of his blood had splattered onto you. You could see it now that the light was on it. It sat on your hands, partially dried and partially wet. And you could feel some of it on your cheeks.

You wondered what you looked like.

Derek stared at you. Your eyes were wild, darting between the gun in your hands and the gun in Derek's. Your cheeks, flushed as they were, were painted lightly with splattered blood. The only evidence of previous tears were puffy eyes, but you hardly seemed weak right now. You seemed...feral.

"Y'N, it's me. You're safe. it's me, it's Derek. Put that gun down." It was strange. It was like you could see his lips moving, you could see that he was speaking but you couldn't hear the words. All you could hear was the sound of your mother's body hitting the stairs one at a time.

Thump.

"He's dead. Y/N, he's dead." The sound came back all at once. Everything came back all at once.

You could see people behind Derek. There were cops and medical examiners, flooding in and out of your childhood home. They all seemed to be moving toward the same place, all in the direction where you had fled. They were heading toward the body, you realized. The body of your dead mother. There was the faint sound of sirens, and there was chatter. You wanted to yell at them, scream for them to be quiet. And then you saw someone else.

Your father was coming toward you. He was covered in blood. Who's blood was that? Was that your mother's? Was that Foyet's? Movement caught your eye.

JJ was holding someone in her arms, he looked confused, pointing at his sister, eyes alarmed at the weapon in her hands and the Jaraeu woman seemed to be trying to turn him away. He was asking for you.

'Y/N/N?' He said.

Your shoulders dropped, the weapon falling into the Morgan man's waiting hands. You stepped forward. Despite your sudden awareness, everything felt like it was in slow motion. The world was moving with resistance, and you opened her arms, almost crumpling in relief when Jack squirmed away from the blonde agent and ran into your waiting arms. You scooped him into your arms, sitting him on your hip.

"Y/N!" Despite all the chaos around you two, you let yourself focus on your brother. He seemed fine. Confused, surely. He had looped his arms around your neck but his eyes squinted at the blood on your cheeks that hadn't been there before. His little eyebrows furrowed, and he reached one hand to poke your cheek. "Are you okay, Y/N?"

Jack loved you. Before you two were put into witness protection program, he didn't see you all too much. You were so busy with school and hanging out with your friends, that you hadn't even been home very often. Then, you didn't have much of a choice.

You liked showing Jack your music- the clean versions, of course. He would scrunch his nose at certain metal heavy bands, but you assumed he liked most of them just because you did. He liked to play cards with you, and have your draw him funny sketches. And when he would have bad dreams, you never hesitated to let him sleep with you.

You felt multiple sets of eyes on you, your father pulling you into a hug. They all pretended not to notice you flinch. You kept your eyes on Jack.

"I'm fine." You took a hand, running it through the boy's ruffled hair from hiding god knows where. He giggled at the action, and you let your hand rest on his cheek for a moment. Your mother was dead somewhere in this house, her body laid across the floor, slaughtered. You swallowed down the rising bile in your throat.

"Let's get you checked out, yeah?"

#aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader #criminal minds x reader #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #Criminal Minds

457 notes · View notes

forthekags · 3 years

Text

Number Nine

Kageyama Tobio X FemReader

Part 2

Read Part 1 Here

About: You were introduced to the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball club during your second year. Yachi needed help after Kiyoko had taken her leave, so she asked you to join her. Although, it would have been smarter to look for a first year, but you were new and looked lonely. When you met the boys you were bit overwhelmed but they grew on you in no time. Kageyama was a little rough around the edges at first, he was awkward and couldn’t hold eye-contact. He was a blushing baboon for the first few days. He was sure to keep his distance but you only found it exciting and hilarious. Sure enough you two became friends from all your taunting and teasing. You’re about to enter your third year, and this was your make it or break it. You had to start thinking about your own future- and so did Kageyama.

A/N: Thank you for the support! And new follows! I’m glad I’m not the only Kageyama simp :) I also like creating shorts with random prompts, it gets the creative juices going. So if you have any requests or such, please let me know. And... uh hope you like this part.

Cloudy Skies

Kageyama would never admit it but he kept thinking about that question. He answered truthfully but something bothered him about that. Not that it was honest but rather the answer itself.

"Kags!" You screamed before the ball could hit him in the face, but he just snapped his head to you. The sound echoed in the gym and he fell backwards at impact. Everyone flinched and made a pained face but your eyes widened with worry.

"I'm so sorry, Kageyama!" Tadashi bowed and apologized several times. He grew red in embarrassment and you would have teased him and called him cute if it wasn't for the growing red mark on Tobio’s cheek. You rushed over with Yachi along with Coach Ukai.

"Come on kid, talk to me." Coach Ukai examined the bruise. It wasn't anything too serious but he knew it had to hurt like hell. Especially to a body who wasn't ready for impact. "Someone go get a bag of ice!" Yachi ran.

"Don't say sorry to him, Yamaguchi, he was the one who wasn't paying attention." Tsuki pushed his glasses up even though they're his volleyball ones. A habit that hasn't died down. He was the only one who didn't step a little forward towards Kageyama.

"Put a cap on your salt, Tsuki," you yelled. It surprised a few of the players with your sudden authority. Even Tsuki tsked quietly.

There was little more venom in your words than usual, like a warning to back off.

"Woah! Did you mean to catch that with your face?!" Hinata jumped to get a better look. "If it wasn't for Y/N, you'd have a bad nosebleed right now Kageyama!"

"Can someone shut him up?" He groaned trying to get up to a sitting position. You shot a look at Shoyo that begged and ordered him to settle down, which he took quickly. Coach Ukai let out a sigh of relief when Tobio finally spoke up. You released a breath- one you didn’t know you were holding.

Coach Ukai asked him a few questions to check how hard the ball hit him. He answered them as best as he could but you snickered when he couldn't answer any government related questions- although Ukai looked around to verify if it was wrong or right with other team players. He was okay. Okay as he could be.

"Alright kid, take a break and we'll fill in for you. Get whatever is on your mind out, it's important that you find that focus again." Ukai helped him up and ushered him off the court. You grabbed onto his arm, in case he needed help with his balance, and led him to the sideline where you and Yachi stayed. Yachi came back with the ice pack and accidentally shoved it too hard onto Kags.

"Ah!" He winced from the cold and the pressure on his bruise.

"Sorryyy…. Here." She handed you the pack abruptly. "I'll go get a chair!" You watched as she ran and struggled to get a chair out. Hopefully someone will help her out.

Kageyama leaned on the wall for support and winced again when he tried to touch his cheek. You swat his hand away-

"Hey!" He glared at you for a second but once he saw your worried look he glared at the floor. "You'd make a horrible nurse," he mumbled.

However, he was taken by surprise when your fingertips made contact with his cheek. You grabbed his face and turned him to you so gently he wanted to flutter his eyes closed to rest a bit. It was then he knew that what he had said was a complete and total lie.

You applied the ice to his cheek, careful with the pressure thanks to Yachi. You were close, almost as close as when you were dancing together. He could feel you- like a presence, it made sense cause you were right there. But it still felt weird to him. And for a second- but what felt longer- you were the only thing in his vision. Your soft smile of reassurance and your caring eyes and how they expressed more emotion than words. He even noticed some marks here and there that he could've sworn weren't there before… and yet he found them...he found them beautiful. Like they added to you being already perf-

"Does it hurt?" Your voice was low and gentle, completely different from when you used it at Tsukishima. You were worried he might be playing the pain down, so he can jump back into practice. You should've pulled him aside when he wasn't responding to Shoyo's usual banter. He was quiet, and clearly lost in thought but you assumed it had to do with volleyball. You expected him to be back to normal once he started playing. And once he was reacting slower and moving slower than usual, you realized he wasn't fully here.

He realized you asked him a question after a moment. "No...no, the ice is working."

You smiled in relief and let him take over the pack. You took a few short steps back and crossed your arms content with your minimal work.

"See," you said confidently, "I might be a good nurse after all."

Before he could agree, Yachi came rushing in with a chair. Kageyama took his seat without argument, a surprise to both you and Yachi.

"Take all the time you need and then some, we'll be right over there if you need anything."

"But don't let that go to your head, your majesty," you teased. He hates that nickname with a passion so there was always some sort of burst of energy. But all he could do was roll his eyes. It let you know that something was still bothering him, and that wiped away your grin.

The rest of practice, Kags quietly stayed on the sidelines but watched the team with a sharp eye. It was weird of him to not want to continue playing, but you were also sort of glad he took time to rest. Maybe that ball did hit him a little too hard though… No- he said he was fine. Plus, if it was serious, Ukai would've rushed him to the nurse or something. There have been worse injuries in the team and Hinata has taken a few shots to Kageyama's head. So… he should be fine.

During clean up time, Ukai told Kageyama he can head home early, instead he stayed and helped a bit then waited for you. After changing, he stood by the stairs and stared at something in the distance with his back towards you. For some reason you were nervous. Your foot wouldn't stop tapping or you would pull on your fingers and try to crack your knuckles. He was being annoyingly quiet, and that put you on edge, clearly. You thought Kageyama was a simpleton, he only thought about volleyball and food. But you liked that because you always knew what he was thinking.

Until now. He's right there and he's quiet and he's not talking and he has almost no expression on his face and he's just not... here. Did someone say something to him? Was he upset? Or sad?

You wondered all of this as you got closer to him, you thought he'd be too lost in whatever was bothering him to notice you but he glanced at you.

"Ready?" He asked, tightening his strap. Once you gave him a small nod, you both started walking towards your house.

"You sure you don't want me to walk you to your house? We don't have to study today if you need some time alone," you offered him. You didn't want him to feel obligated to go to your house. You told him during clean up he didn't have to, but he just ignored you by scowling Shoyo over some sloppy mopping.

"Do you not want me to come over?" He looked at you from the corner of his eye waiting for your reaction. You just shrugged awkwardly and looked away from him.

"It's not that, it's just you got hit and-"

"It's just a bruise, Y/N."

You snapped your head back at him with a wild look. "Well yeah! You don't really get those!"

"Volleyball guarantees bruises, you know that." His voice didn't elevate like yours did, it was unbothered and didn't show any signs of caring.

"What were you thinking about during practice?"

He didn't respond. You thought he might be taking a minute to figure out his wording, like usual, but he was just straight up ignoring you.

"Tobio!"

Nothing. He was giving you absolutely nothing. He just kept walking while you waved your hands like a crazy person. So you stopped walking. You would've let it go if he told you he didn't want to talk about or hell, even if he said it's none of your business. But not responding and obviously ignoring you!?

He stopped and turned to you a few feet away. The sun was setting and the street lights behind you were turning on one by one. He noticed the thick clouds gliding towards you two, another rainy afternoon.

"Y/N, come on let's go. I'm not getting stuck in the rain again." He looked tired, like the thought of arguing itself was draining him. You would've walked in silence, but you were a bit pissed off. Why? Why was his silence bothering you so much? Was he finally getting tired of you? Were you the one who said something? What did you say? If it bothered him so much, he should've said something! Or… was it the dance? Did you step out of line? But…

"Tell me why you've been so quiet, Tobio." Your demand did little on his reaction. He sighed and placed his hand on his forehead, tired once again. When he just mentioned the rain again, you stomped your foot like a child. "Fine! Don't tell me and don't come over today!" You marched past him with your arms crossed over your chest.

He felt a drop on his nose and heard the sound of the approaching rain. You were mad and it almost seemed like the rain followed your gloomy state.

"You really don't want me to come over?"

"No!"

"Y/N, you're being ridiculous." That seemed to piss you off even more. So you quickly turned to scream almost a block away.

"And you're being a shady idiot Kageyama! Since when do we keep secrets!"

"Why are you so keen on knowing?!"

"Because you're not being yourself! You're worrying the team and the coach and ME!" You pointed to yourself feeling a bit selfish without the guilt.

“I’m fine, Y/N! Nothing is wrong!”

“Then tell me! If it’s really nothing, tell me what’s been going on in that head of your Tobio!” You waited and watched as he physically restrained himself from saying anything. And you know it shouldn’t be such a serious topic or conversation, to be honest you thought this whole argument was childish. And yet, here you were acting like a child who wasn’t getting what they wanted.

The silence hurt you for some reason. It was like he didn’t trust you, he didn’t rely on your comfort or need you to listen to him. He didn’t need you.

“Fine. I’ll go home,” he said finally. You didn’t just feel a drop, you were immediately drenched in the rain. You watched him rush off through the rain while you felt something awful.

An even more awful thought sparked when he was completely out of your sight. It was possible that he didn’t need you, but you knew for a fact that you needed him.

56 notes · View notes

hopeamarsu · 3 years

Text

Of potions and myths - Chapter 2

William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader

Word count 3,1k

Warnings: This one is pretty mild, but there is tiny amount of angst sprinkled in. Reference to an attempt at drugging ones date (nothing happened!), mythical creatures and potions. This chapter is from WIll’s POV

A/N: I just couldn’t let this one go and it’s turned into a bit of a gremlin to be honest. I have to thank my love Thia @clydesducktape for encouraging me to explore this and Will, the man has honestly swept into my mind from completely left field. Not that I’m complaining!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

The morning dawns and as the pale light of the sun hits Will’s car bonnet he stretches out, feeling his spine pop loudly as it protests the long hours sitting in the front seat. Despite the back ache, he does not regret spending the night watching over you. He would never regret it and the feeling both thrills and surprises him.

As he waits for the world to wake up with him, Will’s mind turns back to the previous evening and everything that happened. He’d been out alone, a rarity given how close his pack normally is, and originally had only thought of grabbing a single pint before heading home. But something had drawn him in, made him sit in that corner booth and watch the people milling around him, before his eye set upon you and your date.

It had looked normal enough, two people talking and seemingly on a date, but he hadn’t been able to look away. Had he felt the mysterious pull even then? Maybe, maybe not. As he watched, you had turned sideways to dig through your bag for something and that’s when it had happened. With shaky but quick hands, the man had produced a tiny vial from his pocket and emptied it into the drink closest to you.

Anger, white-hot and blazing, surged in his veins immediately and before Will had even fully realised what he was doing, he had walked over and opened his mouth. He had watched with pride as you had confronted the man and then with worry as you hurried out of the pub. He knew he had to follow you, to check that you were alright.

He turns the memories in his mind, trying to pinpoint the moment when the magnetic connection came into play. He knows it was sudden, the warmth of it all creeping up his back and enveloping him completely as he felt all your emotions jumbling around in the aftermath of your date.

He knows that in that moment and the ones that followed that he desperately wanted to crush you into his arms, snarl and growl at anyone trying to approach you and rip the throat of the man trying to hurt you. His inner wolf was in full-on attack mode. It had taken every single bit of training Will had gone through to keep the wolf in check. But the connection still persisted and he was powerless to stop what it wanted of him.

Which leads him here, sitting in a parked car on the sidewalk of your apartment, his wolf alert and ready to jump into action. He doesn’t feel tired or weary at all. There is this need inside of him to be close to you, to protect you. It’s almost desperate at this point, how every nerve ending inside him wants to be close and make sure everything is perfect.

As Will runs his eyes across the street, scanning for anything that might be a threat, the front door opens and you step out. Immediately his eyes snap into your form as you pad across the front yard and into the street, your steps bringing you closer and closer by the second. You look beautiful in your sleepwear and an oversized hoodie wrapped around your body to shield you from the morning chill. You’d look so pretty wearing his hoodie, Will thinks absentmindedly as he tracks your movements. He steps out of his truck just as you reach him.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s been here all night, Will knows you know. The air around you hums again but it’s more muted than last night and as Will tries to reach out mentally, he finds himself blocked. Your shields are back up, full force, and he hides his approval in a barely-there smirk.

“Pretty okay. Would you want to come in? I think we have a lot to discuss. I have fresh coffee,” You offer with a small smile. He agrees quickly, the hum between your bodies elated that you invite him in, and follows you inside, hand hovering near your back as you lead the way. When you open your front door, Will is hit with a smell of jasmine, salt, candle wax and thyme and he recognizes the small display next to your door. Protection spells. His pride swells even more as he knows you’ve done this to protect yourself better.

The second the door closes, the hum ramps up and Will can feel the tendrils from last night appear again, stronger than it was when you were standing outside. He wants to touch you, hold you, bite you, claim you. But he doesn’t make a move, planting his feet firmly into the floor and clenches his fist to keep his hand steady and by his side. It’s not his place yet, you need to talk first.

Will watches as you close your eyes, taking a moment to ground yourself too, before you open them and look straight at him. He likes it, how forward and confident you are as you do not try to hide or cower away from him. With another small smile, you gesture for him to follow you into the kitchen. It’s difficult to move when everything in him calls for you and your body, but somehow he makes it and as he sits on a kitchen chair and watches you move in your domain, Will finds himself enjoying the view and domesticity of it all.

It tugs him deep inside, the mere idea that he could get to watch this morning after morning. Is it too fast to hope for these things? Possibly, but for Will, it doesn’t seem to matter as his mind keeps refueling the dreams with mental images of you in his own kitchen, padding around the hardwood floors with bare feet and dressed only in his flannel.

The flashes move to images of you in his bed, your head on his pillow or chest as the morning light dances on your skin. Evenings spend on the couch, cuddling under a throw blanket and nights in his kitchen when he spoon-feeds you something he’s cooked for a date night. You with his brothers, sitting around a campfire as you trade jokes with them and they with you.

Will is jostled into the present as you hand him a steaming cup, careful not to touch him in the process much to his approval and dismay, and take a seat opposite him. The first sip of the hot liquid feels like heaven on Will’s tongue, the notes hitting just right and he hums in approval. Keen eyes follow you copying his movements and for a while, it’s silent and comfortable as you sip from your respective cups.

The connection tingles in your sternum and you place the cup on the desk, hands flat on the surface. Your eyes reach for his and Will finds himself entranced by the hue in them. He would love to catalogue the flecks within those orbs.

“I, uh… I spent some time last night looking into this. Us. The hum and connection.” You stumble a little in your words and there is an urge to hold your hand in comfort but he refrains. This is important, he reminds himself, more important than his carnal desires and his inner wolf huffs in displeasure.

“I don’t have a lot of books at home, so I’ll need to continue this at the museum later on, but… this seems rare. Really rare. I don’t have a name for it or an explanation yet though and I would need more information from you as well before I, we, can venture deeper. Would it be alright with you? Are you comfortable sharing things with me?”

His immediate reaction is yes, ask what you want and he’ll tell you everything and that stops him in his tracks. This could lead to dangerous territory quite fast. It’s within his training and pack rules that his status, what he is and what he has done in the past are not to be discussed with outsiders. “What kind of things?” Will asks instead.

“Well… For starters, what type of mythical are you? I know it’s invasive to ask but given that you are with Delta, you are clearly not a mundane. I’m hoping that will give us a clue on where to start looking.” It’s a reasonable question and it does give you both a starting place. Will relaxes his shoulders and releases the breath he’s holding before answering. No point in hiding after all.

“I’m a werewolf. But I haven’t heard of this type of connection between two wolves before. May I ask, what type are you?”

“I’m a… I don’t know exactly. I’ve always been interested in potions and history and spells but my family isn’t witches nor do I belong into a coven. I was raised as a mundane. As far as I know, there are no mythicals or supernaturals in my family lineage.”

He hoped the question would be easy for you, to give another clue, but instead it seems to have had an opposite effect as Will watches you drop your smile. You seem conflicted and embarrassed at the confession, hunching your shoulders a little as you shrink into yourself. The connection between tugs at Will’s heartstrings loudly and he’s unable to deny himself or it anymore. He reaches over the table and takes your hand in his, feeling oddly pleased as his hand engulfs yours.

The second skin meets skin, golden and silver tendrils burst out of your skin and a gasp leaves your lips. You both watch with curiosity as they snake up his arm and under his Henley and under your shirt as well. Will can sense how warm they are, filling him up completely. He tracks their movement based on their warmth as they dance on his skin until they go still but remain tingling when they cover his entire body. He looks at you and sees the lines glow faintly all over your body. You look ethereal to him and he feels himself falling for you even more.

“It feels so warm…” You whisper, awe in your voice as you look at your connected hands. “It does. It’s not hurting you, right?” Will questions, running his thumb across your knuckle. He knows it doesn’t hurt him but he needs to be sure, his wolf poised to take away any discomfort you might feel. For all he knows it’s different for you than it is for him and he can’t help himself, the need to protect is far too strong now that you are touching each other.

You shake your head, biting your lower lip as you catalogue the feeling. It calms him immediately but at the same time arousal courses in his veins as he witnesses just how alluring your mouth looks. He wants to surge forward, kiss you until your lips are swollen and bruised and your mind is filled with only him. His eyes are honed in on the sight, how the lip disappears and reappears plumper and plumper. He can practically hear his own blood rush in his ears as your eyes track the golden lines in his forearms.

“Please stop that,” Will is unable to hold in the groan as he watches you chew on the flesh in concentration. “Huh?” Your eyes snap into his face, wide with surprise and you try to tug your hand free, but he only squeezes it tighter. Will knows his eyes have grown darker again as his wolf is howling to be let free. It wants to break free, tug you into its embrace and never let go.

“Please stop biting your lip. It makes me want to bite it,” He growls and watches with delight as you shiver at his tone. You release your lip but the tender flesh, plush with blood pumping rapidly inside, calls to him. And once again he is unable to deny it, his resolve truly broken when you are this close and a harsh tug at your hand lifts you up from your seat and into his lap.

You look at him, studying his face as Will raises one hand to your cheek. Another burst of tendrils escape once his calloused hand connects with the soft flesh and he shivers with the sensation. Fascinated, he watches as the small tendrils wrap around his large fingers and bleed into your cheekbones and up your forehead and hairline, creating patterns that make you glow again.

Will searches for your eyes again before speaking in low tone, your faces close to one another. His eyes drop to your lips and all he can think of is pressing his mouth to them, finally having a taste of what the connection teases him of.

“Do you want this?”

Do you want me?

“You need to say the words, sweetheart, before we go any further.”

I will not be able to stop once you give me permission. Tell me no and this all stops now. It will break me, but I will honor your wishes.

“Kiss me, Will.”

Your words have barely left your lips when Will claims them. It feels like something bursts out of his chest as he tastes the coffee, the cherries you must’ve had earlier and something uniquely yours. You taste of heaven and all the good things in the world and he never wants to stop tasting you and identifying the notes hitting his palette just right. He deepens the kiss by running his tongue on your lower lip, begging you to grant him access to nirvana. Once you do, opening up shyly, he feels he’s ready to burst into flames when he gets the first real flavor of you.

The wolf howls in joy as Will continues to explore your mouth, dipping his tongue inside it to battle with yours. He feels your hand on the back of his neck, tugging at the hair as you pull him closer and closer. The hand that was holding yours releases its hold before pressing against your lower back to push your chests together. He wants you close, closer than you are now and his wolf agrees. The clothes separating your skin from his feel itchy and constricting but Will is grateful because it keeps him somewhat coherent. As much as he wants to, needs you, craves you, he needs to tread carefully and not lose himself.

All too soon the need for air is too much and you pull back, ending the kiss. “Is this… Umm, is this normal?” You sound winded, out of breath and the wolf preens, happy to have made you like this. Will shakes his head minutely, pressing his forehead into yours. He needs to feel his skin connected to yours, can’t let it slip even for a moment. He traces your neck with one finger, enjoying how you tremble again in his hold.

“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t felt like this before.”

“Me either. But this feels big.” He nods.

You breathe in sync for a minute, matching each other as the tingling of the tendrils flickers. Will rubs his thumb on your lower back, lazy circles that make you quiver minutely, a sensation that he eagerly abrobs in his own body.

“What does this mean?”

“I don’t know, but I want to keep exploring this, us, and this connection.”

“Me too.”

You speak in whispered tones, within your own bubble, even if you are alone together in your apartment. Tentative hands move across the planes and curves of bodies as you trade a few more kisses, each one accompanied by the hum and tendrils that skip from one patch of skin to the other, bathing the room in luminescence.

Will agrees with your assessment earlier, there needs to be more research into whatever this is. And he knows of only one place to look for answers. “We need to visit the pack elders.” He tells you quietly as you pull away from the latest kiss, still stroking your neck and shoulder in a calming manner.

“Are they willing to help?” You question softly, knowing how strict some packs are, not allowing any outsiders to enter the area deemed for pack members only. It’s the same for some of the witch covens you’ve tried to approach, hoping to learn more and explore your skills only to be turned away because you are mundane. It has broken some of your spirit, being turned away one too many times, even if you’ve come to terms with it and understand their reasoning. But as the sadness of it all breaks through your shields, Will is almost pushed back by its magnitude.

He wants to take away all the pain you've ever felt, the hurt you feel almost too much for him and his wolf to handle. But he can’t do that, Will reminds himself ruefully, he doesn’t know how. So he gathers you close, placing his hand on your neck as he guides you to rest sideways against his torso, his other hand resting on your hip, offering comfort this way. You breathe in his scent, calming cedarwood and juniper berry tones, and close your eyes to rest for a moment.

It takes a lot out of you to hold up the shields and they slip whenever your feelings become too much and often they are projected outwards, letting others feel them too. Lack of training and lack of skill, you think but don’t voice it out loud. But you are glad he’s not running from you because of that and burrow in a bit deeper, a pleased sound leaving his chest as Will feels you get closer. He kisses your forehead gently before speaking, the vibration of his chest low and comforting.

“They are. The Miller-Morales pack might not be the biggest out there, but we are tight and welcoming. The elders will help us figure all this out. I promise you.”

Of potions and myths taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess @luxmundee @innerpaperexpertcloud

Everything taglist (I fully understand if you want to skip this one, please let me know and I’ll remove you!) @clydesducktape @wayward-rose @themuseic @miraclesabound @clydesfavoritegirl @a-true-janian-reply @10blurredsmoke10 @caillea @mariesackler

#william miller #will miller #will ironhead miller #will miller x f!reader #tw: drugging #cw: mythical creatures #cw: werewolves #will miller fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #charlie hunnam fanfiction #my writing

60 notes · View notes