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esculentevil · 11 months

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(Thorinduil + Thingoropher AU) The Heart of the Mermaid/Miner

((Thorinduil Mermaid/Miner AU partly inspired by @rosalind-wt-blog’s art here; also for MerMay; ALSOalso: sorry this is so short, it’s really just a gloss ok: no it’s not: it was MEANT to be one but then my idiot brain decided “NO! It needs DETAILS!!! I need to explain THIS and explain THAT!!! Now, once more, from the top, WITH FEELING!!!” x.x, and alsox3 for the Thingol/Oropher dump: while trying to decide/figure out how Duil could be trying to get back his heart while heartless [which launched its OWN debate of how fitting that would be from a he’s so heartless viewpoint], I unintentionally created a really cool background history for this AU that I just HAD to use; and, conveniently, it made it both possible and logical to fit my other OTP in here so... yea; enjoy?))

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆💎AO3🦪/⛏️Pillowfort🌲☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆

Long ago, during the course of the First Age, The Great Elven King Elu Thingol requested the aid of the Dwarf Lords of Old.

“Fashion for me a necklace befitting this gem,” he’d ordered, loud and grand, displaying for all present (the dwarrow lords in question, members of his court, his wife--giver of said gem--and child, lords and ladies of distant elvish lands) one large jewel glowing an enchanting golden hue that mesmerized them all.

But none more so than the dwarrows employed to frame it.

They coveted this gem, worshiped it as True Gold, and endeavored to have it--and have it they did: on the day they deemed to present the necklace made, they snatched the golden gem from the great elven king and brought his wrath down upon themselves and all their kin; and, thus, the land of Erebor was taken, the dwarrows within conquered and claimed, and Elu Thingol crowned anew: both Elfking and Dwarfking.

Thorin had grown up with this tale sung low and long into his heart.

His mother had whispered it to him, behind his father’s back, every night since his birth in the Third Age--long after the dwarrows of Erebor lost their mountain, freedom, and gold to the white waif of an elf they must since call their king.

Thrain had never liked her telling of it, saying it was too kind and considerate and more lie than truth for the Dwarf Lords of Old--the REAL Dwarfkings, that is--had simply taken what they were due when the blasted Elfking refused to pay; but Fis, arguably the stubbornest of all dwarf dames, ignored his eternal protests and kept telling it, insisting that it was important for Thorin to know all truths.

And, so, he did.

Not that it did much good.

By the time he was old enough to mine and make like his father and forefathers, Thorin had already come to agree with Thrain and Thror (his grandfather and one of Erebor’s true kings) about the events they were all too young to see.

This is why, when Thorin unearths something so precious and pretty and perfect as he mines, he shows it to his father and grandfather and NOT his mother.

She would have only had him turn it in to the false king.

Together, and with the blessings of the remains of the true dwarven lordships, the Sons of Durin settle on a name for this priceless treasure: The Arkenstone.

Elsewhere, deep under the surface of--not rock and stone but--sea and water, this item is known by a different name: The Heart of the Green Sea’s King.

The land of Greenwater is one far below the Surface World. It is a land of sand and coral and thermal vents and darkness with speckles of light--not of the sun but of those inhabiting it: merms, merfolk, merpeople--whichever you prefer.

They go by many names; but surface dwellers usually call them monsters.

To Thranduil, however, it is THEM whom are the true monsters.

Legolas, Thranduil’s son, does not agree with this.

He thinks they’re strange, sure, but in a cute way. And the hairy ones are cutest, he often says; and Thranduil can never bring himself to say they’re the grossest--for that’s his opinion and, like his own father, he likes his son’s independence.

But that’s just the problem: his father may not be his father for much longer.

Oropher, King of Greenwater of the Great Green Sea, is DYING.

And, to his grandson’s tears, the fault lies in The Hairy Ones.

Thus, Thorin and Thranduil meet: above the sea but below the stone.

Deep inside a cave dwarrows use to bathe, the merm surfaces in a hot spring--utilizing the heat of it for that is what he is accustomed to from the thermal vents--and finds his head almost taken off--not by Thorin’s axe or sword or even a bow and arrow, no, but by his bare hands: wet and hot and coarse and thick and STRONG; almost enough to choke him on the first try.

Almost.

Thorin might be powerful in his own way but he’s still just a tiny little short dwarf: he is NOTHING compared to the raw might of a merm’s tail, least of all Thranduil’s impossibly long, mithril encrusted, starlight one.

It chokes him back, digging the toughest metal directly into his tough naked skin, and squeezes not just his neck but his head and torso and whole body as well until he’s dizzy and breathless and SIGHTLESS--

King Thingol is not impressed when he hears the young dwarf miner’s account: he’s intrigued.

He’s heard tales of these tails before, long ago when sails from Valinor meant crossing the Ocean Green and seeing the sights only Valar, Maiar, and Eldar do.

Merfolk are legends: beings of the deepest seas that can command them like Elves do land, the Valar do Arda, and Elu Illuvatar does Everything; it has, thus, been a long held belief (supported by The One not really knowing much of them) that these sea creatures are the only form of independent life anywhere.

And Elu Thingol has always been interested in them thusly...

It is this interest that has Thorin, a thick and heavy and burly and land-loving DWARF, swimming down the underwater tunnel his would-be-killer had used.

The path leads him passed the mining holes and the hot springs’ halls and even the lowest housing units used by the nobility and ROYALTY of the dwarrows.

And that irritates him: the fact that this MONSTER--which came upon him while he was NAKED and trying to RELAX and TAKE A WELL-DESERVED, HOT, PAMPERING BATH--might not only have COME FROM but also very well LIVE down there where it’s DEEPER than even DWARROWS can live.

But he does not let it show, does not let it interfere, because, as the hole opens and leads him into this insultingly deeper dwelling... he will have his REVENGE.

Or so he thought.

Thorin did not come unprepared on this endeavor--he wasn’t ALLOWED to--and it shows.

Equipped with oil-slicked clothing [spun by elves for only they could be so ick], an ancient [but admittedly powerful for a metal item forged by elves] blade named Orcrist, and a[n ELVEN] spell that allows him to breathe like a fish underwater [seriously, these ELVES have the absolute WEIRDEST things...], Thorin’s task isn’t nearly as hard as it probably could be--but he [and his father and grandfather] is certain the weird spell is the only thanks the elves deserve.

Especially as the freaks are known for making GLOWY THINGS and THIS blade DOESN’T GLOW despite how HELPFUL that would be in the DARK DEEP (and, yes, he’s irritated about this because the elves made a POINT to SAY it glows--around ORCS, they said, whatever THOSE are--as though that’s a huge selling point even though, one, it’s not being SOLD, and, two, THERE’RE NO ORCS!!!)!

Except, Thorin finds (and, no, he’s not sure if the elves KNEW this before so still fire and flame to them), that a glowing sword wouldn’t have been that helpful: EVERYONE DOWN HERE GLOWS.

This makes finding the specific monster HE is looking for not particularly hard; however, it DOES make stealthing around much more difficult than it should be--even for a dwarf.

Everywhere he goes, he has to be sure not to get caught in any merthing’s light--or DISTRACTED by it because, blast it, it’s BEAUTIFUL most of the time--especially that of the one he’s actually looking for--even if his false king isn’t.

Elu Thingol isn’t particularly interested in WHICH merthing he brings back so long as he DOES bring back ONE.

Thorin just hopes to hit two stones.

He finds him surrounded by what he can only call his young.

They are all smaller than him and, although only one of them LOOKS like him, they all seem to do or move or even sound similar to him like Thorin (and Dis, his sister, and Frerin, his brother) does with his father and even grandfather (or mother in the case of Dis; their grandmother remains unknown to them).

And that’s a problem: if these littler merthings are his children...

Thorin can’t; he just... but he MUST.

And so he does.

He waits for the young ones to finish combing their hair--long and luscious locks of varying colors but mostly dark browns which he figures come from the mother (whom Thorin doesn’t see but can only assume must be unbelievably beautiful; worthy, certainly, of--MONSTER; that thing is a MONSTER; he’s not beautiful)--and (re)placing braids in each other’s before laying down in each other’s arms and tails and hair and fins and seeming to go to sleep like his younger siblings.

Thorin ignores the warm clench in his chest at the thought and sight.

Instead, he silently follows the beautiful monster that came onto him.

The glowing creature leads him to a cavernous room filled with wealth.

Gemstones that glitter under the merthing’s glow. Coins that catch all eyes. Metals that match the gray crust his almost murderer wears upon his long tail. Gold and silver and copper and garnets and sapphires and chrysoprases.

MOUNTAINS of them.

And upon them, in the center of the room, is a throne of giant white diamonds; and, upon it...

The Great King of Greenwater the Great of the Great Green Sea sleeps, seemingly, upon his white diamond throne amongst the well wishes and offerings of his loving people, frightened and sad and desperate to get him back.

But, the gaping hole in his chest, where his heart once lay centuries ago and long before the beginning of his reign, sits black and hollow and DARK.

Oropher the Green Maelstrom sits empty and barren upon his throne, surrounded by love and light but none of it his own.

For his heart, a beautiful giant glowing green pearl which should be buried deep within the living coral stone of his much beloved home above his giant throne, has been taken--MINED--by the very monster creeping into his royal dome.

One important thing to note about merms: their hair isn’t actually hair.

Technically, it is; but only in the sense that these long locks are really hair cells.

They’re receptors, delicate but strengthened by their unusually large size, and pick up everything from sound waves to actual waves that indicate movement.

Such as that of some creepy monster coming up behind one.

Thranduil might have noticed it sooner if he weren’t so tired.

In the wake of his father’s technical absence, he has been forced into his role: Thranduil is now king--however temporarily (and by the currents does he hope this is all going to end shortly with his father up and ruling as he does normally)--and doing his best to juggle both his father’s duties, his own duties as prince and father (and, yes, a part of him wishes he could tack husband back onto that list, if only so he could have back the comfort, aid, and love of his long gone wife), AND the duty of retaking his father’s heart so they can ALL return to normal.

But he does not notice the creeping presence as it enters, so wrapped is he within his woe and weep and want and wish for his father to return to him them.

And even when he did notice, he thought it was simply one of his many children--for why WOULD he assume one of The Hairy Ones from up above would come in the dead of night and follow him into his father’s seemingly empty abode?

What actually tipped him off was the lack of light.

Despite the movement he could feel through both the waves and his long hair, no new light came with it--and that’s strange as all merms glow (but his father... now, at least) with the light of life and love (the reason his father is now so dark: without his heart at least tangentially connected to him through his throne/home, he technically has neither, now... it is why everymerm has tried to fill the room with their love imbued minerals and metals, hoping to substitute their own love for his but it isn’t working and Thranduil’s panicking and that’s why he WENT there, up to The Hairy Ones, in the hopes to END THIS--to get his father BACK).

Confused and realizing it’s not one of his sons or daughters but expecting, really, little more than a random fish he could maybe make them all a little pet out of, the prince-king of the wetland realm turns around and finds himself trapped, staring down the business end of a fully loaded handheld harpoon gun.

And the one holding that gun... the very first Hairy One he’s touched.

Thorin can breathe underwater--this is the one thing he and his people will thank those blasted elves for--BUT--blast those idiots--he isn’t able to TALK.

Of course, he isn’t sure the merthings can--the monster didn’t bother speaking when he came upon him possibly as nude as he had been (which, truly, is just... a WEIRD thought--the thing is nude even NOW and Thorin’s not really sure what, exactly, to DO with that thought)--but he assumes they have a language--of SOME kind--that’s probably as alien to him as the waifish noise elves make.

Thingol actually said (yes, he was listening--only out of necessity, mind: preparedness is important; especially when one is embarking on a task alone) that their language, in the legends, was described like music and song: instruments for vocal chords and an orchestra in the throat.

Regardless of what is true: Thorin lets his gun talk for him.

That and his head.

He nods it in the direction he wants the merthing to go--back towards the tunnel--and keeps the gun trained on his (and Thingol’s) prize.

The monster, not an idiot, clenches its (Thorin isn’t sure what these things are--he passed by many of them but found no real way of telling their age or gender--and this one, especially, is a monster to him anyway) fists (in a move far too... SIMILAR to be comfortable) and, after glancing one last time at the figure shadowed and shattered and slain upon the spectacular diamond throne, obediently swims towards the hidden hole while giving the dwarf a wide berth.

Thorin pointedly ignores the sympathetic clench the monster’s horrified face makes him feel as they swim over the still sleeping bodies of his children.

Thingol praises Thorin upon his return, monstrous merthing in figurative hand.

Thorin’s father and grandfather and other such dwarven family are equally proud and impressed and pester him endlessly for information on the strange things.

Fis, however, is not either of these things.

No: she is furious.

Thorin didn’t think this was much of a problem: his mother usually calms down after enough time is given--although, yes, apologies often help speed up things.

He isn’t a liar, though; and, while a part of him feels bad for the children, yes, he’s not at all sorry to bring his own assailant to justice.

However, his mother does not agree--she does not SEE things this way--and, so, she demands--no: forces!--him to beg for forgiveness.

Fis, somehow knowing exactly where her husband and father-in-law hid it, takes and TURNS IN The Arkenstone.

Thingol is mesmerized by it--more so than he was by even the glowing gold gem that started this all those years ago--just as the dwarrows knew he’d be (because, obviously, they had been).

He’s also angered by their treachery.

They’re punished accordingly: incarceration in cages upon the mountaintop; barred caves otherwise open and vulnerable to the weathering elements; exposed holes in full view of the sun and moon and air and WATER and DORIATH, Thingol’s original/elven/forest kingdom just northwest of Erebor, where they are rendered naked and bared of their mountain’s wonderful and warm weight like worms tugged up by winter-weak, willowy birds.

And if this jarring removal from all that Thorin has known and held dear forever weren’t so horrid and painful and enraging, the young dwarven prince of Erebor would actually be more afraid of his mother’s still very present ire than Thingol’s.

The reason being, of course, that Fis isn’t done.

O, no: the great dwarf dame of Erebor has only just begun!

She may not fully understand what, exactly, it is that her son unearthed that day; but she DOES understand that it is not a toy or a treasure like THEY understand.

No, it is a heart--a PERSON--those same walls her son now misses and craves tell her--whispers into her mind through her dreams in the dead of night--and Oropher’s Heart MUST Be Returned!

And so, as she has always done, Fis obeys her true royal ruler--her mountain--and approaches her non-kin king with determination.

He is almost too distracted to notice her: The Arkenstone--as her son called it--lies like a cold star in his hands, brilliant and bright but also bitter and biting; despite it baring the same blue as a hot and sunny day, there is no warmth in it, no heart: there is no love in the glowing object; just immeasurable sadness.

It wants to go home; it wants to return to Orofer; it wants its FAMILY back.

And Fis aims to grant its wish.

“Such a lovely item, your majesty,” she begins, very carefully, and bows deeply after entering the Elvenking’s [Ereborian] throne room.

King Thingol hardly answers her, seems to not really hear her, and barely hums in acknowledgment of her praise or presence; and, for Fis, that is both good and bad: on one hand, it means he’s too enthralled by the blue gemstone in question to bother with her or what she has to say (which should mean a lot of leeway); but, on the other, it means he’s so enthralled by it... he might not give it up--which he NEEDS to do.

And Fis is determined to make that happen: “About as lovely as the merm, yes?

“I wonder which is lovelier?”

It was a good question; so good, it got Thingol to act.

The Great Elvenking quickly ordered the throne room closed to all visitors and had all of his foreseeable engagements cancelled for the rest of the day. Then, he made his way to his personal rooms--freshly (relatively--it’s been millennia) carved into the highest parts of The Lonely Mountain which he conquered almost effortlessly thousands of years ago (and, coincidently, directly above where Thorin and his accomplices are caged in their little cave-cells)--wherein the merm is collared and chained with dwarven metal and elven lock to his tub (really a grotto the dwarrows working on his chambers connected to a hot spring far below--probably the very one this creature attacked his miner-now-prisoner) (he chose this method of containment not just because it keeps the treasure inside HIS own space but also because it seems to need the heated water).

The creature hisses angrily at him--still, it does not speak.

But it DOES do something ELSE when it sees the gem.

Thingol had expected many things when he entered his rooms with the stone.

He expected the anger, for that is all the undersea being has been since arriving even back when it FIRST came to attack Thorin, and even the silence (again: NOTHING has been spoken or uttered by this thing but for HISSES--sometimes, Thingol actually wonders if it’s truly fish these things are based off of or snakes); he’d expected it to be as enthralled by the blue jewel as they have all been--or even, for perhaps this thing (as unbelievable as this thought might actually be since the merm is COVERED in precious minerals and metals of his own) simply isn’t able to appreciate the beautiful things in life, completely ignore it.

But what he DIDN’T expect...

Were tears.

It’s beautiful, in a way.

Not the tears!

No, not those.

The SONG.

Fis cries as she hears it, too: the long, deep, mournful cries of hopelessness and loss that are so loud, so resonant, so HURT... they can ALL hear it.

Thorin looks up from his cave of a cage and, for a moment, ceases to breathe; he isn’t sure HOW he knows, but he DOES: those painfilled wails are from HIM.; and a part of him thinks he should be happy about this--serves the monster right--but... he can’t.

NONE of them can.

And, this time, he mustn't.

The other thing that happens that Thingol was not expecting is a HOLE.

He’d known, of course, that the cells were virtually right under him/his rooms; what he hadn’t known was just HOW CLOSE that meant they were (and, legitimately, he can appreciate the cleverness behind the dwarrows doing this): Thorin and his company barely had to tunnel their way through the mountain before they are BLASTING through his bedroom floor!

The young dwarven prince, backed by his family and friends, stands dwarf-tall--covered in ash (possibly remains of fires used to attempt to say warm) and debris (from the tunneling) and all manners of filth (more the fault of the dwarrow designers, Thingol thinks, than his own--it really isn’t his fault they all chose, while building the cave-cage-cells, NOT to put certain things as though RUNOFF is good enough for a shower [even IF they have a surprisingly good waterfall here] over his near naked undershirt and thermals)--and admittedly menacing.

Or, at least, as menacing as a five foot dwarf can be to a nine foot tall elf.

The only good thing about this sudden breach is the shocked silence that it brings to the sea creature: even Thranduil had not expected THAT of all things.

Thorin bellows a war cry unheard in almost an age before he’s charging Thingol, bare fists raised in filth from digging through what only a dwarf could toolless; Thrain and Thror and several other dwarrows--friends and family of Thorin--follow after him and, in a blink, Thingol is overwhelmed and taken down.

The young dwarf prince seizes his chance and--as his father and grandfather and cousins and brother all converge upon the Elfking-no-longer-Dwarfking--snatches the glowing blue gemstone from Thingol’s weakened grasp.

His eyes then lock with the starlit silver that is the merthing’s gaze.

The Arkenstone is heavy in his palm--unnaturally so--as he continues to stare.

It alternates between frigid cold and furious heat, almost as though it is thanking him and cursing him all at once AND back and forth--as though it can’t decide which stance to take: hate or love; gratitude or resentment; joy or sadness.

It’s reminiscent of the glow itself: while mostly blue, there’s a fluctuation inside it of yellows, golds, oranges, and even pinks and purples and reds and GREENS that gives it an almost white light--as though one is holding the sun in their hand.

And all that light, that flux, shines brightest in the hope of the merthing’s eyes.

Dwarves make the best hidden doors and the strongest of all the metals abound, of this there is no doubt; but--sadly--even Thorin must admit that the best locks are not actually dwarven ones: no, this make lies in the talents of the gray elves whom somehow make the pieces of the locks, themselves... STICK together: there is no picking to be done when there is no SPACE between or EXPLANATION why the two halves don’t just simply FALL apart!

NOTHING is really keeping the collar together, as far as either Thorin or ... IT can tell; and yet it does not open or even look like it can! To either of them!

Therefore, as his family and friends fight the enraged Thingol behind them, Thorin kneels before the bejeweled creature and takes its chains in his hands.

And then: he PULLS.

Elves may have clever gadgets and powerful creations and straight up magic but nothing they have/make/do can/will ever stand up to a purely pissed off dwarf--especially if all Thorin has to do is yank the connection point from the wall.

As the item in question clatters to the floor, a new silence comes to the room.

Part of it is shock that Thorin just DID that--just RIPPED the entire CHAIN straight out of the WALL--but most of it is actually what ELSE Thorin just did:

The merm is holding The Arkenstone.

“Get ‘im home, son!”

Fis grins proudly at her eldest, eyes bright with unshed tears that are probably more left overs from how the merm’s heart-wrenching song had made her feel than anything else; she had run all the way from the throne room to Thingol’s when she heard the wail, expecting the worst, and couldn’t be happier, now.

She’s still angry, mind, and Thorin knows--now that he’s actually sorry about it--he’ll have to apologize properly to her later; but, for now, he’s making amends.

At least with his mother: “Orofer needs ‘is heart back!”

Thranduil’s in his once-attacker’s arms before he really knows what’s going on.

The short little Hairy One (who’s actually quite tall now that he’s seen so many) is wide enough that the cradle of his hold is surprisingly nice and comfortable--ignoring that he can’t really fit the merm’s impossibly long tail inside of it.

Were they underwater, this would be fine as Thranduil’d be able to swim himself his tail would just trail through the currents; however, above the water... Thranduil winces as his tail starts dragging along the cold and rough stone floor.

He quickly tenses his muscles, coils the offended limb tight about their bodies, and--if he marvels at just how thick and strong and WARM the Hairy One is... well, that’s his business.

Thorin almost immediately drops the merm when he coils around him.

Memories of that night only a short while ago are still vivid in his taxed mind and his breath hitches more than it should while he’s sprinting down the mountain’s insides to get the tailed creature down to the hot springs far below them (since that’s literally the only surefire way he knows to get the starlit one safely home) as the shadow of those long and coiling muscles overlap with the breathless, dizzy, SIGHTLESSNESS of almost being choked to death by his charge.

It is only the knowledge that he struck the other first, almost killed HIM first, and the command of his beloved mother that prevents him from actually dropping him.

And his pride.

And also, if he can be perfectly honest (at least with himself): the warmth of him, the softness of his skin, the smooth texture of his otherwise protected scales and the silkiness of his long and lustrous hair; the scent of the sea and algae and kelp and fruit and starlight and aquatic flowers (like the off-white lotuses that grow along the edges of their springs--where the water is a little cooler but still warm enough to keep them happy--although how they survive such little sun...) that permeates the air around him and wafts off him like light shines off crystals; the way he tucks himself closer and nuzzles his chin and TRUSTS HIM... true: it’s not FULL trust; but it’s there in its infancy and Thorin finds he wants to grow it.

By the time they’re in the hot spring, Thorin is panting and worrying.

For a split second, he fears the one thing he had to thank the elves for before: BREATHING UNDER WATER. Will he still be able to? Now that Thingol’s pissed at him and more than capable of just... (perhaps indirectly) drowning him???

He isn’t sure and he isn’t allowed to think much about it (the merm doesn’t know, after all, and therefore can’t be blamed for so eagerly returning to his element; he CAN, however, be questioned for grabbing Thorin’s hand and pulling on it).

Instead, he finds out through trial and error--the dwarvishest of ways.

Thingol is many things, though, including a monster when it suits/benefits him; but, no, he is not in the habit of murdering others by retracting a gift.

Just subjugating them.

If he had to guess, Thorin would figure Thingol is the reason the merm pulls him down under the surface with him--especially after they hear the distinct PLUNGE sounding from the hot springs telling them he’s coming after them.

For a moment, Thorin’s wounded and worried, freezing and panicking about what this must undoubtedly mean: for all that he loves his friends and family and people, overall, and for all that he is generally confident in how strong and powerful and resilient they all are, he knows Thingol is more so in every way.

There’s a reason, after all, he’s been able to be their forced king for millennia.

The image of his father and grandfather and brother and friends all dead--o, please, no defeated and downed on the floor of the Elvenking’s too-high rooms flashes in his mind before it’s dispelled and drowned by a soft and webbed hand (the one NOT clutching The Arkenstone--Orofer’s heart?) squeezing his rough and filthy one as the merm attached to it drags him deeper into the dark sea.

Everymerm is panicking in the throne room.

Their voices converge like an earsplitting orchestra and their light almost burns.

But, the sudden silence that falls when they all see their mature prince return with their beloved king’s heart and a Hairy One of all things...

Well, it makes the follow-up of an enraged Elvenking that much more deafening.

“Return the Arkenstone!!!”

Thingol’s voice echoes off the cavernous coral walls of the caveish throne room and ricochets off the mineral and metal mountains of riches ladden within it.

It vibrates the hearts of all those present, like a thunder clap shakes teardrops, and, for a moment, in between his near choking upon the very salt of the sea when it hits him that this means Thingol can SPEAK below as he does above, Thorin wonders if Orofer’s heart can feel the elf’s rage, too.

He honestly hopes it can’t.

(Let him be spared this.)

“It--HACKcoughUGHcoughCOUGHcouch--is not yours to begin with!”

Thorin does end up choking on the salty sea water surrounding him, after all, and he wonders how it is that the elf doesn’t have the same problem as him:

Has Thingol been down here before? (He DID say he was interested in them...)

Regardless of the answer, his coughing fit startled everymerm around him--especially the merm he came in with--and, so, they all turn to eye him worriedly--providing Thingol with a great opportunity.

He takes it, of course: both the opportunity and The Arkenstone.

The merm cries out and tries to take it back, tears in his already wet eyes and webbed fingers trying to be claws against the near triumphant elf.

Thorn cries out, too, enraged for the merm’s sake as well as those around them and also for his mother whom gave him this important assignment and, blast it, he will NOT disappoint her--never again.

The two pounce on the Elvenking and wrestle with him, all three trying to obtain the glowing blue gemstone--until it isn’t glowing blue anymore.

It’s green.

The three stop to stare at it, all taken aback.

Thranduil grins and sings with joy--his father recognizes his heart is near!

The merms around them realize what is happening, too, and begin to sing urgently and euphorically for the gem to be returned to its rightful place.

But, this isn’t all that they do: their joy and love is not bound by their voices, alone; no, is also lives in their minerals and metals, in their slates and stones, their coins and crystals, gems and gold: all of which now gleefully glow.

Thorin is mesmerized by it; awed and amazed; and so is King Thingol.

One of the things the elves’ spell doesn’t do is make the barer a better swimmer.

Swimming is something the bespelled must already be able to do--this is, actually, the main reason Thorin was so pissy about having to come down here: he CAN swim, yes, but he’s not very good at it; no dwarf really is; but elves...

Thingol, especially, can swim in ways Thorin and other dwarrows can not: specifically, by magically forcing air to do the swimming for them.

And, so, this is what King Thingol does as he nears Orofer.

“What beauty...” he murmurs, beholding the sight before him.

And while, yes, he IS looking at Orofer, that’s not really what he’s talking about: no, what he’s really referring to is the mountain the Mermking sits upon--and, no, not even the wealth and gold and GIANT DIAMOND: the LOVE.

It is a little known fact that the real reason elves condemn dwarves as greedy cretins is because they can see and FEEL it: dwarven hoards GLOW with greed whereas elven ones glow with PRIDE--even men’s hoards only glow with envy--and while each of these is a sinful glow, it is only the dwarves that attract worms.

This hoard’s glow, however, is something else ENTIRELY...

If Thingol had to say anything sinful about it, he’d probably suggest only one: lust.

Regardless of sin or saint, there is no denying the serenity that awashes him.

Nor is there any denying the siren call that compels him forward, gem in hand, towards the darkened, downed, shattered, shadowed king of the underworld.

The song echoes in his ears like a torrent--a storm--a MAELSTROM.

And it only quiets when Orofer the Great finally opens his green eyes.

The first thing the Mermking of Greenwater does is smile.

Not at Thingol, specifically, no: at the love he feels surging through him--all of it from his people and son and grandchildren and home--that’s been building--coalescing and accreting in his cavernous halls filled almost to point of bursting--for days.

His heart springs green--rich and vibrant and strong and enthralling--from both points--his chest and the coral above his throne from whence it was mined--and bathes the chamber in its emerald foresty magnetism for which is it named.

Greenwater the Great of the Great Green Sea is finally, once again, truly GREEN.

And King Thingol swears he could stare at this beauty for eons.

“Thank you, Graymantle.”

Thingol starts, overwhelmed, as the slowly warming creature beneath him shifts and speaks and suddenly stands to formally greet him--his royal guest.

“You have returned me.”

Webbed fingers, soft and heating and veined in green, caress Thingol’s cheek before the Mermking is swimming passed him and to his tearfully singing son; they embrace in showers of green and gold and gem and gentility and juveniles.

Thorin and Thingol are neigh on forgotten about; but they respectfully wait, realizing, in the ignorance, what their own almost took away.

“I apologize: my son should not have almost killed you.”

Thorin flushes and shifts under aforementioned son’s heated gaze. They’re all back where aforesaid deadly event took place--merms in the hot water while dwarf and elf sit in towels still being used to try and dry off--and trying to mend what almost became damaged beyond repair. King Orofer is extremely kind, understanding that neither of them could really help the way that they reacted and choosing, instead, to focus on the fact that they did, in the end, help his son and return his heart and offer both of their apologies and alliances and amends. “No, good king: it is I that attempted harm first; I am the one whom apologizes.”

Thorin looks up, as ashamed as he is anticipative; the mermprince looks back, starlit silver eyes cautiously curious and carefully contemplative.

Eventually, the whitette nods, “I should have tried talking to you.”

“A token of my gratitude.”

“Gratitude?” Oropher asks, warm lips turning up in a gentle smile as he swims towards the hot spring’s shore. There, kneeling beside his own simplified throne (for, while this is not a throne room, it is easier for them to conduct meetings together here than in either of their real ones; additionally, it rewrites the horrors the hot springs saw betwixt them in the beginning and now comforts them both), is Thingol the Graymantle, Elfking of Doriath and Elven co-king of Erebor, holding in his hands a beautiful necklace of mithril and emeralds and a gold star. “Whatever for?”

“Your kindness, generosity, and forgiveness.”

“My, what a tall order!” Thingol watches Oropher laugh and finds himself smiling despite the fact that he’d normally be annoyed at not being taken seriously. Greenwater’s king just... has that way about him: carefree but not careless, infectious but not irritating, and soft but surprisingly and sweetly strong.

This is why Thingol has decided to do what he never thought he could or would: give up the very thing that truly started all of this: The Gem of True Gold.

It fits snuggly against the length of Oropher’s neck.

The mermking hums as the last clasp clicks into place, relishing in the shine and squeeze and song as the item vibrates in time with his own voice. The gold star rests heavy against the hole in his chest where his heart used to be prekingship.

Deep sea-green stares up at night blue, their gaze creating a beautiful scape.

Oropher thinks he could get lost in that sky forever.

“Thank you.”

Thorin, Dwarf Lord and co-king of Erebor the [no longer] Lonely Mountain, flushes deeply under the heavy swaths of his royal robes as he sits on a rock beside the first merthing he’s ever touched and watches his nephew/sister-son play happily with aforementioned merm’s somewhat older son. Legolas, youngest mermprince of Greenwater, giggles and sings gleefully as Fili rolls around on the hot spring’s shores with him under the amused gazes of all--especially his mother, Dis, and his grandmother, Fis. They both adore the fry and, so, neither mind Thorin and Thranduil sipping mead and wine together.

“He’s always liked you hairy monsters; I appreciate you giving him one as a pet.”

Fis and Dis laugh uproariously as Thorin chokes and spits out his drink; Thranduil only giggles as Fili and Legolas continue playing, oblivious.

Eventually, Thingol lets go of his rule over Erebor, deciding he both misses home and has no need to subjugate Thorin and his people any longer.

There is talk of how this idea is really Oropher’s, who’s been helping the young and budding king grow into a magnificent one (along side his son, Thranduil, who’ll have none of that talk, thank you--he hates the young dwarf lord, understand: HATES), but nobody really minds: the dwarrows are happy regaining the right to rule their own mountain, the elves are happy to go home and see long missed loved ones, and the merms are largely unaffected (Doriath’s actually on the border of Greenwater due to a nice shoreline so...).

Thorin’s meetings with Greenwater, now that he’s The One Dwarfking of Erebor, still happen in the hot spring throne room, of course; but, now, it’s just him.

And Thranduil; whom, while still just a prince, is now an official ambassador--strictly, some say, for the Mountain King...

“Are you going to...”

Thorin trails off as he sits in the hot spring with his mermprince of a guest. Thranduil, calmly combing through his long and luscious and luminous white hair with a strangely unevenly bristled brush, glances at him in silent askance while waiting for him to continue. Neither one of them comment (anymore) on just how close they have become are to the day they violently met: both naked in the bath they were in that day they almost lost both their lives--to each other no less.

They don’t really have to.

They already know.

“King Orofer gave up his heart to be the great king that he is...”

Thorin frowns as he finds himself, yet again, terrible with words.

He struggles to ask what he really wants to but finds he’s too afraid.

Luckily, Thranduil seems to understand him--as he always does--and isn’t: “Indeed, my father has buried his heart in the coral stone above his throne; but, no, this does not necessarily mean I will also do this one day; it is very possible that I will never be king--we merms are an immortal race--and I am glad of that.”

“What about... to a person?”

Here, Thranduil stops his brushing and turns to fully look Thorin in the eyes--or, at least, he would if Thorin would allow it. Instead, the insecure dwarf looks away and at everything BUT the merm beside him. Thranduil rolls his eyes and smiles.

“Why, little dwarf king~ Are you offering yours~?”

The only thing louder than Thorin’s embarrassed stammers is his blush.

At it turns out, Thorin’s heart was not the only thing he gave to Thranduil.

Before he left, the young Dwarfking took the Elvenking aside and asked him: “What do I do? What did YOU do???”

To which Thingol simply said: “I gave him what I thought I could and would not, something I had foolishly thought no one else would ever deserve, and something I created for myself to represent and convey all of my love.

Thorin, ask yourself: what do you have that says and shows what you cannot?”

The answer, it turns out, had really been quite simple.

Long before the overtaking of the mountain by Thingol and back during the days of the original Dwarfking of Erebor, Thorin’s ancestor--Durin the Deathless--mined a stone from the depths of their mountain which seemed to endlessly absorb all light shined upon it. It was seen as an ominous magic stone--in fact, some even say it foretold the coming of the Elvenking and his oppression--and, thus, nothing was ever done with it: instead, it was hidden in Durin’s drawers and only ever spoken of to family; it is, perhaps, one of their darkest secrets.

But, to Thorin, this stone has always looked just a little blue.

The deepest, blackest midnight--or the depths of the sea.

It is with this stone that Thorin makes his courting gift.

A long mithril belt ladden with dark sapphires, black opals, black pearls, and even dark obsidian that wrap will Thranduil’s impossibly long tail--which, once, almost killed him; but, now, softens under his tentative touch and sometimes even holds him gently--with the light swallowing gem attached by a thin chain so that it may rest above the merm’s heart as though it has been given away...

He calls this blue-tinted/glossless gemstone His Blackheart.

And it is the mermprince’s--should he choose to accept it.

He does.

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dominustempori · 1 year

Text

Alright people, it's happening again!

The fanfic muse has been haunting my dreams, and distracting me at my job more than sporadically, these last few months. And I have FINALLY put pen to paper...or fingers to keyboard I should say.

Not a Ghostbusters story this time, but my own little story to add to the legacy that is the Monkey Island saga.

I (partially) blame some new mutuals I've 'met' since the latest game, "Return to Monkey Island," was released last fall. Mind you, the BAREST hint of an idea for an MI fic started swirling around my fangirl brain years ago when the LAST game, "Tales of Monkey Island," came out back in 2009. "Return" helped to solidify that idea, along with some brilliant artwork that was inspired by this amazing adventure game.

More chapters (parts? I don't know what I should call them exactly, but I've got plenty of head canons I might turn into proper fics or drabbles.) may most likely appear in future posts, and maybe my FFN account. Maybe. At the very least I had to get a start to clear my head a little more. A long-awaited (by me, hee.) story featuring one of my OTPs: Elaine Marley and Guybrush Threepwood.

So...here we go. Hope you all enjoy.

“Their Grandest Adventure Ever”

Part 1:

The warm Caribbean sun shone its morning light through the Captain's cabin’s beveled windows. Its rays alighted on a head of long, slightly unkempt golden hair, which stirred slightly as its owner approached a semi-state of wakefulness. Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate, groaned softly as the sunrise broke over the horizon. He had hoped for a few more minutes of sleep, but today, time waited for no captain.

“’Morning, Plunderbunny,” he muttered groggily as his hand reached out across the bed. “Are you awake yet?”

The silence he received spurred Guybrush into opening his eyes and waking up just that bit more. His wife must’ve gotten up earlier, but where was she, he wondered.

He called out a little louder, “Elaine? Sweetie?”

Guybrush sat up in a rush, fully conscious now. If Elaine had been in their washroom, surely she would have called back to him. Maybe she was already dressed and on deck? Or down in the galley helping with breakfast? Although, he thought to himself, she rarely, if ever, was awake and about her shipboard duties by sunup. Both of them tended to linger in bed a bit after slowly waking up, AFTER the sun had risen, often still in each other’s embrace.

“Better go and find her,” the pirate captain muttered to himself, and then added as an afterthought, “I hope she’s all right.”

Guybrush hurriedly pulled off his night clothes and rummaged in his wardrobe for his usual ‘at-sea’ outfit: white linen shirt, black trousers, stockings and boots, belt and baldric. He decided to forgo his blue captain’s coat, and opted for one of his waistcoats – midnight blue silk with a swirl pattern embroidered into it, with gold buttons: his latest anniversary gift from Elaine. He smiled to himself as he put the vest on, swiftly tied his hair into his traditional ponytail, and then turned around to head out the door.

He stopped for a second: why was the door open? Not completely, but not closed all the way as he had done last night? If Elaine had gone out to start working, surely she would have closed it behind her so as to let her husband sleep undisturbed?

Guybrush was worried now.

He rushed out of the cabin and looked around the ship, from portside to starboard…unless she was down below or up on the quarterdeck…wait.

There she was! She was leaning on the starboard railing, just a few steps away from the cabin and looking at… what exactly? Her hands seemed to have been grasping the balustrade more…tightly than she normally would, he observed. She was sort of more…hunched over. And she was looking downward…something in the water maybe-hopefully not another giant manatee.

And had she…had she been crying? Her face had that distinct blush to it, but, tinged with…an almost greenish hue? Then he heard the slightest, shuddering sob come from his wife’s lips, followed by a long sigh.

He couldn’t stand there any longer. Guybrush hurriedly walked over to his poor Plunderbunny’s side, reaching out and calling her name. “Elaine! Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

Elaine started at the sound of her husband’s worried shout, and then turned around to face him as he got near her, though she was still feeling a little shaky. He had both his arms extended out, as if he wanted nothing more than to pull her into a hug and hold her close. But his face told a different story: eyes wide, mouth set in a nervous frown…he knew something had happened to her.

She stood up a little straighter, reached one hand out towards one of his, and gently laid his palm on her warm cheek, to help ground and steady her a bit more. She laid her other hand on his own face, to reassure him.

“I’m…I’m all right, love. I’m feeling better now.” Guybrush couldn’t help but wince a bit at the sound of her voice; it was a bit hoarse and low-pitched…far too much for just having woken up.

“Sweetie,” he said as he moved his hand from her face to gently grasp her shoulder,”…you’ve been seasick. You NEVER get seasick! Not in all the years we’ve been together. Something’s wrong…are you SURE you’re all right?” He was making a mighty effort to not let the wave of panic he started to feel creep into his voice, but from looking at Elaine’s wide, emerald eyes, he wasn’t sure if he was succeeding.

Elaine started to respond, but then, taking her husband by utter surprise, fell into his arms and started to weep. She laid her head on his chest, with both hands grabbing his shoulders tightly; her warm tears slowly rolled down her tired face and onto Guybrush’s shirt. Taken aback for a moment, Guybrush came to his senses and embraced his sobbing spouse. One trembling hand moved to the back of her head to stroke her long, dark red hair, the other hand curving around to gently rub her back.

They stood that way for a few minutes, Guybrush giving his wife time to calm down a little, and then he placed a reassuring kiss to her temple. “Let’s get you back to the cabin, back to bed so you can rest up. Get a drink of water or something…come on, Laineykins. I’ve got you.”

Elaine began to shake her head no, but she felt so tired after her cry, she couldn’t help but lean into her concerned husband’s side as he led her back to their bedroom. As they stepped inside, Guybrush closed the door behind them, indicating to the crew that the Captain wished to not be disrupted. He then guided Elaine toward the bed and waited until she sat down on the edge of the mattress. “I don’t feel like lying down just yet, Guybrush, I…could you join me?” she asked her husband softly.

“Of course, honey. Can I get you anything first? Do you think you could keep down some water? “

“A small glass would be lovely, dear. Thank you.”

Guybrush went around to his nightstand where a pitcher of fresh water stood, along with two pewter mugs. He poured Elaine and himself some water, and handed a mug to Elaine. She smiled slightly up at him as he sat down carefully beside her. “Slowly now, a little sip at a time,” he reminded her. He wouldn’t admit this to anyone BUT Elaine, but he’d had a bout or two of seasickness when he was a younger, more inexperienced pirate.

He decided to let Elaine start the conversation; she obviously wanted, no, NEEDED to tell him something, but there was no point in making her more anxious or upset. After a couple small sips, she wet her lips and took a deep breath.

“Guybrush, dearest, I’ve…this isn’t the first time I’ve gotten sick the last few days.” That brought a gasp from her husband, who proceeded to take her free hand and hold it in his own. He started to say something but Elaine beat him to it. “Please, love, let me finish.” Guybrush gulped down his words, but his widened blue eyes spoke volumes. Elaine took another calming breath and went on. “I was hoping I wouldn’t wake you when I got up to, well…I wanted to let you sleep in. I didn’t want you to worry unnecessarily, at least, not until now. I, um…”

Guybrush couldn’t resist taking advantage of her pause. “Elaine, please tell me. Is there something wrong? I mean, you’ve been feeling sick for the last few days? That must mean something?” Oh when Guybrush used his pleading voice…how could she resist it?

“Sweetie, I, it’s not THROUGHOUT the day that I’ve been feeling unwell, just…when I…when I wake up.”

“Alright, so you’ve been getting sick in the mornings, and…”

Guybrush could DEFINITELY not help but gasp as he took in what he just said. Sick…in the MORNINGS. He didn’t think his eyes could get any wider, or that he would ever find himself at a complete loss for words. Elaine stared back, with a hopeful smile and a tiny glistening of tears in the corners of her eyes.

Her stunned husband shook his head for second, before carefully taking Elaine’s mug of water and placing it on the floor along with his own. With a slight smile of his own, he then placed one hand gently along his wife’s reddened cheek, and the other…ever so carefully… over her belly.

“Sweetie…do you think you might be…?”

“I…I think I might be, love.”

Guybrush let out a small but joyful laugh. He looked down at where his hand lay on Elaine’s stomach, and saw her own hand move to cover it. Then he laid his gaze back on his beautiful wife’s…glowing…face. Was it a trick of the morning light, he thought? “No, she IS glowing. How didn’t I notice before? Well for THAT matter…oh never mind that! Say something to her!” he reprimanded himself.

“Oh Elaine, I…you’re…we’re…”

Elaine gave a small laugh of her own as she realized her husband was feeling a little overwhelmed, much like the first time they met. That thought made her smile all the wider.

“Yes, my love. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a father. We’re having a baby.”

#rtmi spoilers #fanfiction #elaine marley #guybrush threepwood #otp: plunderbunnies #the ship that literally sails itself #oh man this has been a long time coming for me #amateur time lord fancies herself an amateur writer #comments/reblogs/likes ARE LOVE #no beta we die like men

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doortotomorrow · 3 years

Photo

Last Scene

OTP MEME

#The 100 #John Murphy #Emori #Memori #the100edit #and now we've reached the final scene #from the golden hues of desert dunes to the glittering gold of transcendence #as Murphy and Emori's story comes full circle #and it was an epic one #forever reshaping both of the characters involved and the series as a whole #I will never forget the profound relief I felt when I saw them both surviving #and crossing the finish line together into the realms of a happy ending #and that whenever I rewatch the series #I can watch it knowing they both make it #otp meme: memori

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mypersonmyg · 3 years

Text

silken stroll | kth

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff

rating: g

wc: 800

summary: you just want to show off your new scarf and have some cocoa OR taehyung has a secret

a/n: drabble #5 !! :D i feel like these just keep getting posted later and later lol

prompt 5. E - Energy! A member of the otp+ is hyper or more hyper than usual.

november drabbles masterlist

main masterlist

“You’re such a dork,” Your boot clad feet glide against a path scattered with gold, twirling under the heavy gaze of a trailing Taehyung. His words, low and playful, grab your attention from your previous endeavor. A silken scarf, newly gifted, dangles from agile fingers and a half exposed neck.

“It’s so pretty,” You coo, flowing material brushing delicate skin. It was upon your insistence that you brave the evening chill, gusty wind the perfect condition to test your new accessory. Taehyung was in ready agreement, glad to have your own smile strengthen the one framing his cheeks.

Aside from the distraction of a fashionable strip, the golden disarray of death before rebirth is enough to take your breath away. Leaves stain with crimson hues, an aesthetic that bleeds into the daunting grey of the darkening sky. Your steps still, waiting for the catch up of your watchful companion, the extend of your hand lengthening his hefty strides. He scoops you up without hesitance, the swing of an interlocked grip urging you forward.

“You’re so pretty,” Taehyung declares in that way you so adore, the words appearing an effortless feat, but the slight darkening of muscled features a telltale to bashful effort. His grip tightens, the warmth of him swallowing you whole as your frame pushes as close as gravity allows without the trip of a steadied stroll.

“No, you.” You quip, lifting on partial numbed toes to press lips to frosted cheeks. Your mark is missed, Taehyung’s head tilting just so, his lips landing with a soft smack against your own. It’s with effort that you pull away, public displays a rarity, even in a park emptied by the minute under the glow of artificial lighting. “Let’s stop for cocoa.”

“We could make some at home, it’s getting pretty late, love.” His words ring true, an incoming breeze paired with the set of the sign burying your resolve for the distant cafe. “I could do it homemade like you love and we could build fire.”

“And cuddle,” You murmur, free hand folding into your heavy coat sleeve. The rustle of nearly naked trees picks up around you, begging for a hurried turn around, the comfort of a knit blanket and wrapped arms more enticing by the second.

“You always say it takes so long to make cocoa,” You pout, the taste of a warm drinking nudging at empty taste buds.

“I do not. I wanna make my girl cocoa, let’s go home,” You only hum, pulling away momentarily, attention drawn by a stray wisp of burgundy in your peripheral. Your fingers enclose around favored silk, wrapping it once more to prevent an accidental loss. “You really like it?”

You glance at Taehyung, your view obscured by his mane ,wildly untamed since the morning. He watches your cautious movements, bottom lip pulled between worrying teeth.

“I love it,” You assure, tugging at the fabric to be sure. “Besides, anything you give me is automatically the best gift.”

“Cheesy.”

“But true,” You hum, hand finding his once more. “Why are you being so weird tonight, sir?”

“What do you mean?” You don’t miss the stiff of his shoulders, his eyes on you heating your cheeks. You shrug, not meaning to put him on edge. While his gift had been a pleasant surprise, along with it came a man who was visibly on edge. It was a choice not to question, his mood lightened despite obvious tension.

“Nothing, I just-you’ve just been really nervous and jumpy today. More ” Taehyung only hums, no answer to loose observations. He sets a pace, rounding back to the path already taken, sights set on an evening in.

When you make it to comforting confines, you're quick to shed outerwear, Taehyung getting to work with the placement of logs, a fire set ablaze before your eyes. The drop of a kiss upon your head signals his leave to the kitchen, the scent of melting chocolate soon to follow. The ambiance is set to soothe, your eyes growing heavy with the crackle of flames.

You fight the tug of your lids, nearly kicking your blanket to the carpet floor. Your attempts are feudal, a heavy head coming to plant at the arm of the sofa. You miss a humored chuckle as your boyfriend re-enters, mugs of fresh steam filling each hand. He deposits warm chocolate, coming to cover a half kicked quilt, your body shifting to fall into his firm chest.

He finds routine in the rub of open palms against the expanse of your arm, your muffled mumblings only maintaining his silent adoration. He notes the light clutch that remains on silk long broken in. He sighs in the quiet of the space, a weight in the pocket of his jacket tugging at his mind.

Long awaited questions forced to wait another day.

#bangtanhq #bangtanuniversity #bangtanidx #bangtanwriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #taehyung x reader #kth x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung drabble #bts drabble #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts november drabbles 2020

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pinktatertots99 · 4 years

Note

can you do rutilexphos for person a going on roadtrip to visit b?

oh this’ll be new! haven’t done em in a while sure!

OTP Drawing Prompts 37: Long Distance

Person A going on a roadtrip to visit Person B

____________________________

opening their eyes phos slowly sat up from the car’s folded down back seats. looking out the back’s window they smiled at the sunrise’s golden hue, vibrating the pinks and orange’s around it.

kicking away the miniature chip bags and water bottles they crawled to the front seat, taking their keys out of their shirt; having them on a thin wire like a necklace and quickly starting the car to drive away from the gas station they parked away from.

they watched the mountains passing them by, small streams coming from some of their cracks and took in the quiet of the drive. as more cars and the look of the city-esque town came into view they turned on their music, some pop-esque techno came on as they slowed down to take a left, looking around the cul-de-sac and parking their car infront of the tan and brown house’s garage.

getting out they went to the back, pulling up the seats enough to get their athletic sized bag and walking to the front door, that was opened with rutile infront of it in their blue robe and disheveled hair.

“i heard you were making pancakes!” they exclaimed, rutile sighing but kissing the top of their short teal hair. “your such a dork.”

“but you KNEW pancakes would make me get here.” they chuckled as rutile rolled their eyes, letting them in and closing the door.

#rutile x phos #phos x rutile #houseki no kuni #fanfiction #hnk #land of the lustrous #lotl #kingdom of gems #i made this #the pink one speaks

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waltzing-marionettes · 5 years

Text

Get to know me!

Rules: Tag 9 people you want to get to know better and answer the questions. So i was tagged by both @sweetlittlevampire and @yourfavouritedoll !! Thank you ✨

Relationship status: Not interested.

Favorite color: Too many to choose from ; ; Deep, dark jewel tones, like blood red, midnight blue and purples/violets, warm golden tones, black and all shades of teal/mint green and ivory.

Top three ships: Okay, here goes...

1. Sookhee/Hideko (The Handmaiden. Hands down my biggest otp ever and i’d die for them in a second)

2. Augusta/Lenora (Godchild, got myself into them by accident because of a handmaiden au where they poison Alexis and run away together and here we are—)

3. Vanessa/Linnéa (The Engelsfors triology, a great swedish book series about young witches and the apocalypse!! available in several languages apparently, including english)

notice how they’re all wlw

aaand then a whole lot of oc pairings i’ve had with internet friends for a couple of years, but i don’t know if they count??

Lipstick or chapstick: Lipstick, especially deep dark hues of red.

Last song: Death Wheel - Adrian von Ziegler. I absolutely love the dark mood in this one, and I’m probably gonna use it as inspiration for my writing more than once hehehe

Last movie: I actually don’t remember this one?? help

I’m tagging @toni-qt @lithui @vamp-prince-mikhael @hong-ara @gilasaurus @crowcrownprince and anyone who wants to steal this! and as always, if i tagged you and you don’t want to, feel free to skip!!

#personal #me #tag meme

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neraawritesxx · 7 years

Text

Say I Do

anime: Inuyasha pairing: Sesshomaru x Kagome genre: Drama/Romance words: ~7,700 status: Ongoing

summary: [au] ‘I vow to you today and a thousand times over that I will never let you leave my side.’ The man to whom she was vowing eternal love was supposed to be her fiance, not her brother-in-law.

a/n: So this is my first real attempt at writing fanfiction, especially positing it to tumblr. I figured what better way to break myself in then by writing a story with my first every OTP. Please let me know what you think!

this work could also be found on ff.net and ao3

next chapter

Never in her life had Kagome Higurashi ever felt so empty; so utterly alone.

Unease bubbled within her flip-flopping stomach, spreading a wave nausea throughout her petite form. Her porcelain skin was flushed, yet clammy; crystalline hues seeing nothing but red. Hushed whispers were shared behind her; the thrum of quiet chitchat bounced off the mosaic-covered walls. It was not hard to distinguish that she was the sole topic of discussion within the room.

The heat of their stares bore down on her back, and it was enough to make her want to squirm. She shifted slightly, her movement slow. The desire to wrap her arms around herself and shy away from the crowd was strong, though the mass of silk and lace she was dressed in restricted her movements. It was suffocating, constricting; she couldn't breathe. Her throat was dry, an uncomfortable lump forming, adding to her distress. The more she swallowed in an attempt to quell the feeling, the more prominent it became.

The stems of the lilies within her bouquet gave an audible cry under her vice-like grip, drawing her attention. Glancing downward, Kagome scrunched her nose and glared at the white flowers as if they were the sole cause of the pure embarrassment that was threatening to drown her.

She blamed herself for letting it get this far.

Kagome knew that this entire situation was not going to benefit any of the parties involved without some sacrifice. She was living in a dream world thinking that something like this would not be met with some type of resistance.

This was supposed to be a happy day, one where nothing could go wrong.

This was a day that most girls dreamed of from a young age.

This was supposed to be a celebration, one of happiness and life…of love.

But, here she stood, on her wedding day, groom-less.

Kagome rationalized that she should be more upset than she currently was. Most women at this point would have broken down and called everything off. She didn't feel the pinpricks of oncoming tears forming in her eyes; there was no wave of sadness crashing down on her. There was a myriad of emotions swirling around her, but despair was not one of them. No, she mostly felt empty and alone, a numbness pulsing through her with every breath she took. Embarrassment held her in a vice, whispering within that she should just run away. It was duty and stubbornness that kept her rooted to the spot she maintained at the altar.

She was not surprised that it came to this point. All stories like this came bubbling to a climax. Though, she sorely wished her situation was not one that would leave her in this utterly insignificant position. Nothing seemed to work out the way that she wanted it to within this relationship. The whole thing was a cruel twist of fate.

It was a political marriage; arranged.

An alliance of…sorts.

-o-

Kagome's father always had a knack for technology, ever since he and her mother had met back in high school. Her mother would tell Kagome stories of her father when he was a teen, about how he would lock himself away in his garage and invent little knick-knacks to impress her. He was always curious about things; he wanted to know what made them tick.

What gave them drive.

Over the years that curiosity developed to the point where he created his own firm. It was modest at first, a small technology company that would produce software for computers, but over time it grew within power. This was the modern era. Everything was run on some sort of software. There were plenty of other technology companies that competed with her father's, but there was only one that he ever deemed a rival: Taisho Inc.

Touga Taisho was an esteemed businessman, ruthless in his field. He ran his company with the utmost care; every product produced was carefully planned, every business deal was a strategic power-play. He conducted himself in the same manner and grace throughout his everyday life. There were no friendships, no bonds, no social gatherings he would attend that would not benefit his company. It was his lifeline; the fruit of his labor and he would not see its downfall. It was no surprise that Taisho Inc. was becoming world-renowned.

Kagome's father has crossed Touga's path early on at a business expo while showing off one of the new microchips that Higurashi Tech. put together. It immediately caught Touga's attention, who wished to directly buy it outright, including the patent to call it his own. Her father vehemently refused, much to Touga's frustration.

Thus, a rivalry was born.

It was never hostile or derogatory. There was no slander or dragging through the mud. The only thing these men attempted to do was one-up each other. They liked to push each other, gauge the reaction and see what the other would do next. It was a simple game among men; to see who would come out on top. Kagome assumed her father caught Touga's interest because he was the first person to deny him what he wanted. In a world where you were always in charge, who would stand up and tell you no?

It carried on for years, the push and pull. One man outdoing the other. Benefit galas were never dull when those two men were in attendance. The casual jibes and mocking undertones were always a source of amusement. The words they spoke were never hurtful; uncivil and full of dry humor, yes, but they were words of two men who grew to respect one another highly.

It was at one of those galas that she met him, the man that was to be her future husband.

Kagome was not prone to such events. She was seventeen at the time, young, and somewhat clueless. Pair a long dress with her naturally clumsy demeanor, and there was bound to be an issue. That instance presented itself when she was trying to descend the staircase into the main ballroom. Kagome had been running late to the festivities, rushing through the doors and down the stairs without any caution. Her high heel tangled in the trail of her gown, the movement of her body already propelling her forward. Before she could make a complete embarrassment out of herself, she was caught and pulled back against a robust and broad frame.

Turning to thank her savior, words died on her tongue. Kagome was caught within the piercing gaze of the most unique pair of golden eyes she had ever seen. He couldn't have been much older than her, maybe by a year or two. His cropped white hair was worn messily, not gelled back like the other men in attendance. Blue locked with amber, and for a moment—a bated breath – Kagome was spellbound.

Then he went and opened his mouth.

He had mocked her for her lack of ability to walk like a 'normal person,' questioned her on if she was 'all there in the head,' and then he proceeded to call her 'wench.'

Her hackles rose, left eye twitched in utter annoyance, and like a snake coiling to strike at its prey, Kagome lashed out. An all-out verbal spar had ensued. Back and forth, a battle of mockery and insults was fought. He seemed to be the clear victor with a well-placed dig about her lack of feminine figure. Kagome politely replied with a neat kick to his shin before she stomped off.

It was later in the evening that her father introduced her to his 'esteemed rival' along with said rival's family. Her first impression of Touga was that of intimidation; he was a loud and proud man. Everything about him seemed to emanate power. It was his eyes, however, that gave Kagome a different view. There was a softness; a warmth there that she couldn't quite place. It offset the towering persona that he affronted. The fire within those golden depths smothered into an inferno of tawny when he looked down at the woman next to him and introduced her as his wife.

Izayoi Taisho was even more elegant than the magazines pictured her as. With soft brown eyes and waist length ebony hair, she held herself with the sophistication and grace of royalty. Kagome mused that she technically was royalty with a husband like Touga. It was only after the introduction was made that Kagome realized it was love which was the cause for the softness around the edges of the businessman's eyes. She remembered vaguely wondering, in that moment, if someone would look at her like that one day.

The next to be introduced was his youngest son, who she immediately recognized as her would-be savior from the staircase. His name was Inuyasha Taisho.

Glares were shared, insults were passed off, and continued disagreements were huffed – much to the bemusement of both sets of parents.

It carried on for years like that. Whatever events that they attended, no matter how much they tried to avoid one another, Inuyasha and Kagome always got into some argument. It didn't matter the topic; it could have been the weather, they just didn't agree. She didn't quite grasp why he was so brash. Why did everything out of his mouth have to be a crude insult? It was like he had a hardened shell around him.

He didn't want to let anyone in and lashing out was his only defense.

When Inuyasha became the topic of debate amongst Touga, her father, and a few of Taisho's business associates at a financial gala she was attending, Kagome finally understood. Touga was explaining the idea of dividing his company amongst his two sons when he was ready to step down. The notion of his oldest being in charge was something that the group approved. However, the concept of Inuyasha running anything related to Touga's company was rebuffed, scoffed at, and utterly frowned upon.

Kagome remembered the confused look that crossed her father's face. She also recalled the burning anger that turned Touga's gaze into flat golden stone. The group of Taisho's business associates were overlooking Inuyasha's skill with finances and disregarded his understanding of the market. In turn, they decided to make it a point to discuss his apparent lack of decorum. Looking back on it now, she was positive one of the men even went as far as to call him a disgrace to the Taisho name.

Kagome didn't know what prompted her to do it.

Maybe it was Touga's tense posture, one that was ready to battle anyone who disrespected his son.

Maybe it was the look of sadness that flashed within Izayoi's eyes.

Maybe it was the utter heartbreak that seemed to roll off of Inuyasha as he caught the tail end of the conversation. He didn't look surprised; it was like he had heard those insults before.

He looked beaten; broken.

All it took was one look - blue locked with gold.

Kagome moved on her own then, pushing into the fray of bodies. Hellfire burned into her cerulean depths as she stomped up to the nearest man, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Kagome couldn't for the life of her remember what exactly she said as she ranted and raved to the group of elders. All she could recall from the confrontation was that Higurashi Tech, under her guidance, would never do business with the likes of close-minded, arrogant, and stuffy individuals who had their heads so far up their asses that they couldn't ascertain a decent business deal even if it were waved right under their noses.

She was cut off, mid-tirade, by Inuyasha, who promptly clamped a hand over her mouth and bodily restrained her, all while dragging her out of the building.

Kagome turned her raging emotions on him once they were outside. He remained silent, while she carried on, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. She was shrieking and shouting about where they got the right to judge anyone. He patiently waited for her to stop, for all the anger to seep out of her as she continued to holler about the inequality of things. When Kagome finally deflated was when she got a good look at him. He looked remorseful, sad, and bashful all rolled into one.

The emotions swam within his gaze, ever-shifting, and suddenly they morphed into something she couldn't ascertain.

He then proceeded to do something that Kagome never thought he would do; he thanked her.

Inuyasha Taisho thanked her.

She never understood that look, the one that he gave her that night.

Looking back on it now, Kagome didn't think that she ever saw that wayward emotion trickle into Inuyasha's gaze again - at least not around her.

That was the beginning of their odd friendship. Much like their father's relationship, Kagome and Inuyasha were rivals with a twist. Attempting to one-up each other whenever they got the chance. Over the next couple of years, it budded into genuine friendship. Kagome was a woman entering a male-dominated corporate world. Inuyasha was the frowned upon heir to an empire. She was his rock, and he was hers. They were the only ones who truly understood each other – what it was like to be an outsider.

If she had to guess, their friendship was the basis for the idea that their fathers came up with. Watching their children grow into the young adults that would take over their companies one day. What better way to secure their future than a marriage? A marriage that would not only unite their children but their corporations as well. It would push them to the top of the technological hierarchy, securing the power for the new generation for when they took over.

-o-

A cough from behind broke Kagome from her thoughts. Perspiration was beginning to bead under the snowy veil upon her brow, and she fought an urge to swipe it away. Looking up, she caught a glimpse of Miroku Hoshi, clad in his cream and maroon ceremonial robes. The soft baritone of his voice was reciting a passage from a scripture within the golden bible he held. The young woman was thankful she was standing so close to him, he was drowning out of the whispers coming from behind her. Miroku looked up then, feeling her gaze on him. They stared at each other for a moment, his violet eyes filled with nothing but warmth.

Kagome had been introduced to Miroku through Inuyasha about a year ago. He was a personal lawyer that worked with Taisho Inc. He had a reputation of being particularly witty in the courtroom, always cracking jokes at inappropriate times. That, however, didn't stop him from outmatching many when it came to a battle of legal loopholes. Much to the displeasure of his opponents, Miroku had a knack of getting out of any situation that he was presented with. He also proudly maintained a reputation for having wandering hands. Kagome had been on the receiving end of his "caresses" far more than she had liked over the last few months.

Miroku raised his voice by a decibel then, drowning out the background noise even further. Kagome assumed that he could sense her discomfort, though, she was sure she wasn't masking it well. He continued with his hymn, and he offered her a small reassuring smile before passing a quick glance to his right, then back down to his book.

Looking over in the direction Miroku just gazed, Kagome locked eyes with her best friend and maid of honor. Sango Ito was a vision in the soft lilac silk gown that hugged her figure; her chocolate locks tucked into neat bun nestled in the middle of her head. She looked every bit the put-together maid of honor she was supposed to be, calm and collected on the exterior. However, it was the small furrow on her brow, paired with the dark scowl that was marring her angelic features which disclosed that something was wrong. Sango held her bouquet of flowers in a white-knuckled grip, Kagome noted. Pity and anger danced within her auburn gaze. Kagome knew that Sango wanted her to end this sham of a ceremony, that she didn't want Kagome to continue through this embarrassment.

Unable to handle pressure from the emotions within her best friend's gaze, Kagome bowed her head slightly. Half-heartedly, she turned her attention back to Miroku and looked up at him through her lashes.

Kagome knew Inuyasha didn't want to get married.

Hell, she didn't want to marry him either.

When they were presented with the notion of their fathers', the two of them burst out laughing. How could they have been serious? They were friends. Best friends. Comrades within a corporate world that they knew little about. Nothing more, nothing less. They both treated their fathers' antics as a joke. They both knew very well that their parents would never actually force them to get married if they didn't want to.

It was a year ago, on Kagome's twenty-fourth birthday, that she no longer took the idea of their marriage as a joke.

It was raining that day, she remembered. It was an accident, a lock-up of the breaks as he tried to swerve out of the way of an unruly stray dog that ended up in the middle of the street. The paramedics said that he didn't suffer. It was a swift and painless death; he was gone before the car had finished rolling off the road.

A year ago, Kagome Higurashi became the unwilling and unprepared CEO of Higurashi Tech. - in the wake of her father's untimely death.

Her father always told her that a man who lives entirely is not afraid of death. Death is a painful truth. It is what is to come. He stated that death was at the end of a foggy road and we must get through the fog called life to finally see the clearing. Though she knew that he would have been content with the knowledge of the way that he passed, it didn't stop the loneliness that was like an unyielding vice on her heart. It squeezed with just enough pressure to be a constant pain, and it smothered her every day just a little bit more. There was no time to grieve after the funeral. Her world had to keep on turning, no matter how much she wanted it to stop. The inner light that she typically emitted was slowly smoldering down to embers.

Kagome had to keep on reminding herself that there was a company to run. Her father's legacy to uphold.

…and she had no idea even where to begin.

She held no regrets turning to Touga for advice, even though it landed her in this current predicament. He had taken her under his wing for the first few weeks, promising her that he would help her keep her father's vision alive. He taught her what he could from afar; he was still competition after all. It would be of no interest to him to help his business' most prominent rival stay afloat, but Kagome knew he was paying his dues to her father.

It was when things finally started to look brighter, that her world came crumbling down once more.

The board of directors at Higurashi Tech. took into consideration the circumstances to which Kagome had succeeded her father, but that did not change their minds on how they felt the company should be run. They were politely asking her to step down.

Again, she turned to the one man who she thought would have all the answers. Instead, he offered her something that she never assumed he would. Touga gave her only one solution to her troubled situation: merge the companies. With his help, Kagome would remain in charge of the Higurashi Tech. portion of things. She would have free reign to do whatever she wanted with her branch as she saw fit, and in turn, her benefit and continued growth would help his company remain at the top of the technological food chain. The only other stipulation that he required from her, besides the merger, was that she would have to marry Inuyasha.

Kagome wanted to feel swindled. She wanted to feel betrayed and back-stabbed by Touga's offer. He knew that she was in no condition to run the company the way that her board of directors would have wanted. It would only have been a matter of time before they had taken the business from her. This was her father's dream, the only thing that she had left of him. There was absolutely nothing that would keep her from running this company, and Touga knew that. He was backing her into a corner, and there was only one way out - his way. The little voice in the back of her head knew he was right, putting the companies together would only benefit them both. It would keep everything that her father worked his whole life for alive. It was like holding a piece of him, and there was nothing that was going to take this part of him away from her. She would never allow it.

So, she contested the terms.

-o-

It was then that Kagome noticed that her body was trembling slightly. Trying to get her nerves about her, she stilled her quivering muscles in an attempt to muster some vigor to get through this. The tips of her fingers were cold, her toes numb in the pinched high heels she was wearing. Another wave of nausea wracked her form as Kagome struggled to breathe. That uncomfortable lump in the back of her throat was making itself known once more.

She couldn't blame him for this. She didn't blame him for this.

How could he? How could she?

After knowing each other for the last seven years, Kagome always assumed the bond that she and Inuyasha shared would play a more significant role in this. Some small voice in the back of her head told her that she should never assume anything anymore.

She made assumptions all of her life and look at where they got her.

Kagome assumed that her father would be around when she took over the company to help guide her in the right direction.

Kagome assumed that Touga would have assisted her without an ulterior motive.

Kagome assumed that she would be marrying someone that she loved.

Inuyasha took the news of their betrothal much better than she initially anticipated. In any other situation, he would have caused a riot, flinging foul words and inanimate objects around the room. He would have carried on like a sulking child until he achieved his way. However, he took one look at her, blue locked with gold, just the same as the first day that they met. As his father broke the news, she felt his eyes bore right down to her very soul. Inuyasha was searching for something. A hint of doubt perhaps? Kagome wasn't sure, but whatever it was he didn't find it.

She knew what he saw when he looked at her. What he gazed upon was unadulterated sadness and empty pleading. Kagome didn't remember how long they remained like that. The silence weighed heavy in the room, Touga, a long-forgotten participant in the conversation. They merely stared at one another. Cobalt irises being smothered by tawny hues.

In the end, Inuyasha submitted with a bow of his head.

Kagome never questioned why he agreed to the marriage the way that he did, but she was eternally grateful.

When the news of their engagement broke, and the merge of the two companies was solidified, the corporate world erupted into chaos. Competitive companies were asking for meetings to discuss future deals, current employees were looking forward to the new changes, and Touga took it upon himself to announce that he would be stepping down.

Both of their lives were falling into disorder. Here they were, left to their own devices to plan a wedding and to pick up where their fathers left off with their companies. Kagome knew Inuyasha was doing this solely for her benefit. It was a debt that she did not know how to repay. She swore that they could get through this together; that they would get through this together. Inuyasha was still her rock, and she would always remain as his. Once everything had calmed down after the wedding, they would figure out their lives together.

What she was not expecting, however, was that on the one day that she needed him most – the one day that they swore they would conquer hand in hand – Inuyasha would abandon her.

Nothing over the last few months would have indicated to Kagome that she would end up alone at the altar. Inuyasha carried on the same, always with that headstrong attitude that rivaled her own. He made it a point to check in on her most days under the pretext of making sure the wedding was not causing her too much stress. Kagome knew better, though. She knew that he was visiting her to calm his fraying nerves. They had come to an unspoken understanding. Or at least, she thought that they did.

The merger would take place after their wedding, and they would run their companies alongside one another. Though they were not marrying for love, there was still mutual respect, and that was more than what some had in their marriages. Together they were going to unite the different aspects of their lives and attempt to achieve the goals that they always strived for. Inuyasha would finally be in charge, and she would keep her father's dream alive.

How was it, that if there was this understanding, she now stood all alone?

-o-

There was a low growl that emanated off from her right. Without having to turn around, Kagome already knew that the gurgled grunt came from Touga. She could feel his anger from where she stood. Most of that frustration was directed towards his son, but Kagome was also a guilty party behind his volatile mood. He was the last person Kagome informed when she found out Inuyasha had run off.

Miroku had been the first to know that the would-be groom had gone into hiding. Miroku had gone to Inuyasha's apartment before arriving at the church to find his friend's home ransacked. It looked like whoever left had gone in a hurry without concerning themselves with cleaning up the mess they made. Miroku knew right away that he had run, hiding from his responsibility to Kagome. It was not until he found the note laid out on the granite counter-top that his fear was confirmed.

Kagome was getting ready for the ceremony when he brought it to her. She could tell by the look on his face when he entered her dressing room that whatever Miroku had to share with her would not be pleasant. He didn't say a word when he handed her the note. It was a crumbled piece of paper that looked like it was torn from some notebook. Short and to the point, written in Inuyasha's typical chicken scratch were the words that stomped away the small amount of happiness Kagome had been feeling that day.

K-

I'm so sorry, but I just can't do this.

- I

She was confused at first, remaining silent for a long time. The first emotion that erupted within her was anger. Of all days he had to pull something like this? What was wrong with him?

Though, that anger was quickly settled into calm resolve. Kagome promised herself that there would be nothing, absolutely nothing, that would stop her from taking over her father's company. If Inuyasha was not going to help her along that path, then so be it. She knew the wedding needed to happen for the merger to occur and she needed this alliance to occur. There would be a wedding, with or without a groom.

Without a word, Kagome crumpled up the letter and politely told Miroku that he needed to leave so she could finish getting ready for the service. The look that crossed his face as he processed what she said was priceless, and Kagome wished she had a camera to capture that moment. The slack-jawed shock plastered all over his face was the only amusing thing that could have occurred from that entire situation. He remained like that for a solid two minutes, attempting to pull himself together. He tried to talk her out of this pony show, – pleaded – to save herself the embarrassment of this whole ordeal.

Kagome refused.

There was nothing that anyone could do to sway her. She needed to do this. It was for her father.

Miroku had somberly left her after their small debate, to which she took the time to notify her mother and her maid of honor that there would be no groom waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Sango vowed his death by her own two hands, but her mother looked at her with understanding. She didn't try to stop her from what she was about to do. Kagome figured it was because her mother understood better than anyone what it meant to keep this company within the Higurashi family.

Confusion was evident in the church when she was guided down the aisle by her little brother, only to be given away to a non-existent groom. Kagome did her best to drown out the background noise. It helped that Miroku carried out the ceremony as if it was normal only to have the bride present.

She could do this. She would do this.

-o-

"-gome." Cerulean eyes that were lost within her memories came back to vivid life. Miroku's gaze held that familiar warmth, though, there was a pinch of worry in those indigo orbs. Lips quirking slightly in a small, half-hearted smile, Kagome let Miroku know that he had her attention once more.

When he spoke again, his voice was just a hushed whisper, meant for only her ears. "It's time for the sharing of the vows Kagome," he breathed in her direction.

His eyes drifted towards the vacant spot next to her before he locked eyes with her once more. They merely stared at each other, an awkward silence now descending upon the entire church. She knew that he was worried about proceeding, seeing as it was usually the groom who stated his vows first, but with no groom here, Miroku didn't know what to do.

"Is there any way that we could skip this part?" She hissed through clenched teeth, panic contorting her features while her eyes darted between Miroku and Sango.

Miroku responded in a sheepish whisper, "Well, I could say a few words instead of you reciting your vows, but we still have to exchange the rings, and we very well can't skip that part."

How could she do this?

How could she put herself through this?

Kagome was in denial. She knew it. Her friends knew it. Every person sitting in the church knew it.

Kagome wanted to believe – to hope – that this wasn't happening. That this whole thing was just one of his immature pranks. He always knew how to get under her skin; always knew which buttons to push that would get a rise out of her. She wasn't expecting him to run through the front door with grandiose proclamations of his undying affection towards her. She knew those words wouldn't be real.

However, she was expecting something - anything to deny that this was happening. If she just continued with the ceremony, it would give Inuyasha enough time to make it for the essential parts…right?

Kagome screwed her eyes shut.

'Breathe, Kagome,' she chastised herself internally.

What was she going to do? If this wedding didn't happen, then neither would the merger. It would only be a matter of time before the board of directors asked her to step down once again. Could she convince Touga to forget this entire thing? Perhaps after seeing the stress that it was causing them both, then maybe, just maybe, he would ignore the whole notion. She felt like she knew him well enough to try and convince him that they could continue with the merger without this stipulation.

She released a strangled noise from the back of her throat, something between a whine and a sob. Kagome could feel her shoulder shaking, but she wasn't sure if it was a reaction to the stress her body was undergoing or the harsh reality of her entire situation crashing down on her. She could feel everyone's eyes on her. If they were an uncomfortable weight at the beginning of the ceremony, they were now an unfathomable and unnerving mass suffocating her. Kagome didn't want to open her eyes and look around her. If the emotions that Miroku and Sango held were any indication to go from, she was sure that if she took one look at her mother, it would break her. Her mother's eyes were always so calm, so welcoming. Even after the loss of her father – her mother's life partner – she still presented a peaceful and openhearted aura.

It was what got Kagome through her father's death. It helped heal and lift the veil of the sorrow.

Now, she knew that if she took one look in her mother's eyes, it would solidify that this was over. Her mother would tell her just to stop fighting it, to accept this situation for what it is. She could almost hear what her mother would say.

'It's alright dear,' she would declare in that soft voice of hers. 'You tried your best, and that is all your father would ask for.'

This dream of running her father's company was coming to an end. Every aspect of her life was slowly slipping through her fingers like sand. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find purchase to keep all the pieces together. Kagome knew that she had talked herself up. That even though she attempted to prepare herself for going through this ceremony alone mentally, there was little she could do to make herself genuinely ready for the events.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, unshed tears glistening in oceanic depths.

Kagome quickly looked towards Miroku, "You were right Miroku, I shouldn't have done this. I... I-" Her words cut off as a choked sob made its way up her throat. More tears threatened to fall, and it took every ounce of strength Kagome had to stop them.

Miroku remained silent, glancing over at Sango with pleading eyes. He was silently willing her to do something about this. Perhaps if they intervened now, they could save their friend the continued embarrassment of carrying on this charade.

Kagome took a deep shuddering breath and closed her eyes again. She just needed a minute, just a minute to collect herself. She focused on her breathing.

In. Out.

The only announcement of his arrival was the sudden warmth of a body next to her own. The musky scent of a forest after a heavy rainfall invaded her senses. It was crisp; clean. A welcomed balm that began to sooth her tousled array of emotions.

When Kagome once again opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of Miroku; both eyebrows arched so high they were lost behind his bangs. It took him a moment to collect himself, but when he did, Kagome swore she saw a flash of humor dance within those purple orbs. Confusion wracked her brain and, hesitantly, Kagome turned her head to peek at the person standing next to her.

He was permeating his usual air of nonchalance, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else instead of where he was currently standing. His hair was a waterfall of silver, though it was cut shorter than the last time she saw him. Instead of curling down to his mid-back, it was now just brushing past his shoulders, neatly pulled back into a low ponytail that rested at the nape of his neck. He was clad in a suit much like his father's; traditional black jacket and matching slacks, complimented with a maroon vest and matching bow-tie. It made the color of his eyes flare to life.

Sesshomaru Taisho was a picturesque being of aristocratic authority, mixed with an unparalleled god-like arrogance left him as infamous in the corporate world as he was in the tabloids. His personality befits the power and rank that he held. Like his father, Sesshomaru was a calculating man, but much colder to the point where it was difficult to approach him. He gave her the same first impression that she had of his father – intimidation. Though, where she eventually warmed up to Touga, Kagome never felt comfortable in Sesshomaru's presence.

The last time that they spoke was the night that Inuyasha had announced their engagement. She made the mistake of asking him how he was fairing that evening, to which he answered with a glare and silence. At a loss for how to even continue to engage this type of man in casual conversation, Kagome politely excused herself before hastily scurrying off to an area of the house that didn't seem so frigid.

The only person that Kagome saw Sesshomaru interact with that night – willingly – was his father. Even then the conversation seemed strained, with Touga taking over most of the discussion. Kagome didn't know how she felt about him. She couldn't read him. He was elusive; a mystery. Sesshomaru was a man that was indescribable when it came to appearance and demeanor. Many men sought to be him, and many women sought to be with him. Kagome got the feeling that he didn't particularly like her even though he never voiced his dislike out loud.

She was indifferent towards him; someone that just happened to be around him on occasion. They were not friends. Hell, they weren't even acquaintances.

That being said, it didn't explain what he was doing, standing next to her at the altar.

Sesshomaru looked at her then, a fleeting glance from the corner of his eye. Kagome saw the barest hint of disinterested gold before he turned his gaze upon Miroku.

"Continue," He deadpanned.

Kagome's eyebrows scrunched in utter confusion. What was he talking about?

Continue?

Continue what exactly?

It was then that she realized that he was talking about the exchanging of vows. Kagome quickly snapped her head in Sango's direction. The brunette looked to be caught in the same surprised stupor that she was. She glanced back towards Sesshomaru and opened her mouth to protest, but Miroku cut her off before she could even get a word out.

"Will you be standing in for the role of the groom?" He questioned in an almost – dare she say – pleased voice.

Sango recovered from her surprise at the question. "Stand in?! That is highly illegal. Of all the harebrained schemes that you have come up with over the years Miroku, this takes the cake! You are a lawyer; you should know better!" She screeched from her position off to the right, voice echoing throughout the cathedral. "Are you out of your mind Miroku?" Sango questioned, "Enough of this, I should have never let Kagome carry on this far. We need to end th-"

"Quiet." Sesshomaru softly demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He briefly glanced at Sango, pinning her with a glare before his eyes trained back on Miroku. An eerie silence descended upon the church at that moment.

No one spoke.

No one whispered.

No one even breathed.

After a lull of uncomfortable silence, Sesshomaru finally offered a response to the original question, "I am no stand-in."

Sango, who, at this point was closing the distance between herself and Kagome, stopped dead in her tracks. Her face contorted into another blatant expression of shock. Miroku rose an elegant brow at the stiff response but kept his mouth firmly closed.

The voices that had previously been silent were now back with a vengeance. Over the multitude of murmured whispers, Kagome could swear that she also heard someone choke back a fit of laughter. Strangely, it seemed to be coming from the direction Touga was sitting. Kagome was aware that she needed to do something – say something – that would help her gather the reins and take control of this situation.

Before she could speak, Miroku, once again, beat her to it. "Then by all means, please state your vows," He hummed with the corner of his mouth kicking up with a smirk.

Sesshomaru turned towards her then, easily towering over her petite frame. Kagome gaped up at him like a fish out of water, her mouth opening and closing while her brain tried to piece together some protest. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts. She needed to wrap her head around just what exactly is going on.

In response to seeing her pathetic attempt at stalling, Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes a fraction of an inch and looked at her menacingly. Kagome took that as her cue to politely keep her mouth shut. With an audible click of her teeth, she shifted stiffly in his direction. She was sure she looked like a deer caught in the headlights, doe-like cerulean orbs staring up at him with a mix of confusion and apprehension.

When he spoke again, his voice had picked up in volume, though it dropped an octave. It was a deep and husky baritone that Kagome had never heard him use before.

"I vow to you today, and a thousand times over that I will never let you leave my side. I invite you to take all of me, to come into my life and to share all I have to offer. I humbly give you all that I am and pray that you choose me on this day and all of our days hereafter."

The longer he spoke, the quieter the church seemed to become, all listening to words that were so sincerely expressed. They wrapped around her, caressing her skin with an unparalleled warmth. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention as she listened to his vows. A cascade of pink dotted on the pale skin of her cheeks as she stared, once again slightly slack-jawed, at the man before her.

This man who she barely knew.

This man who had come to her in her time of need.

This man.

This man was supposed to be her brother-in-law.

There was something in his gaze that she could not quite place, something that turned cold amber into molten, golden fire. He was looking at her; through her. It was almost as if he was seeing someone that was not her. Was he imagining someone else standing next to him? Her stomach twisted in a knot, but this time she wasn't so sure that the cause was the anxiety of the situation.

No. This was something else.

Miroku took advantage of her stunned state. He wanted to get this entire ceremony over and done with. The sooner the procession ended, the quicker he could get Kagome away from all of these prying eyes.

"Do you…er…," He floundered for a moment before collecting himself. "Sesshomaru Taisho take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her for as long as you both shall live?" Miroku asked.

"I do," Sesshomaru supplied in a clipped tone, his eyes never once leaving Kagome.

Miroku then looked towards Kagome, who was still flushed with stunned awe. "Do you Kagome Higurashi take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?" He asked again.

She didn't answer right away. She couldn't answer right away.

What was there to say? What could she say? How did she end up in an even more confusing situation than the one she had already been in? Out of everything that could have occurred today, standing here facing a man she barely considered an acquaintance and vowing her entire life away was not something that she figured would happen.

A cold chill of dread slithered its way up her spine. She should not be doing this. If it were up to her, she would not be doing this. It was hypocritical to think that she would have been alright with this entire thing if it was Inuyasha standing next to her. What made it so different now that it was Sesshomaru standing here? She needed to remember what she was doing this for. Who she was doing this for. What was that burning desire that fueled her through this much of the ceremony?

This was her father's legacy; she would not let it die.

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, gnawing at it slightly while staring up at Sesshomaru. A million questions were floating through her mind, but there was only one seemed to stand out more than the rest.

Why?

Releasing a ragged breath, Kagome squared her shoulders and straightened her spine.

"I do," she stated quietly.

Everything else around her seemed to fade into darkness. The church, the guests, even Miroku and Sango. Kagome merely gazed at the man before her. The realization dawned quicker than she had anticipated and it caused unease to bloom within her stomach once more.

She had pledged eternal love to a man that she hardly even knew….and he was supposed to be her brother-in-law.

#inuyasha #kagome higurashi #sesshomaru #sesskag #sesshomaru and kagome #fanfiction #otp #my otp #non cannon #romantic fiction #inuyasha au #say i do #chapter 1 #say i do chapter 1

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summylise · 7 years

Text

Long Time, No See

A/N: yeah yeah I know I know. I'm supposed to be writing the next chapter of NSEND but DON’T WORRY because I still am. This was just a warm up with my OCs but then I realized that it could be a cute one-shot and tbh y’all are going to need it after this next chapter. soooo HAPPY B-DAY @unashamed-shipper !!!! You said the other day how you needed fluff so here ya go!!

prompt: imagine your otp, warm up

pairing: nalu

words: 2355

rating: T bc I say two swear words whoopsie

It’s been three years, two hundred and seventy days, and God knows how many hours since I last saw him but I could never forget him. Not the way his hair fluffed back when he ran his fingers through it, or the way he’d fiddle with the strings of his backpack and his Adam’s apple would bob when he was nervous, or the way his lips would quirk and light up any room he walked into. I can never forget the way his shoulders slumped and how he couldn’t meet my eyes when his drenched form stood in my doorway that night. I can’t forget the subtle way his breathing hitched when he told me and tears had pricked my eyes. I can’t remember the hint of salt I tasted when I kissed him for the last time, whether they were my tears or his didn’t matter. I won’t forget how I had laid in bed for the rest of that week, refusing to see anyone and responding only to my mother when she tried to console me.

He mentioned something about his work or danger or something, but frankly, my ears had stopped working after he said: “I’m leaving.”

It’s been three years since I’ve heard one word from him. Since I’d seen his face, heard his voice, felt his skin.

But today, something felt…different.

I get up a bit earlier than usual; sadly the only train straight to Narcís leaves at 4:30 opposed to my usual 9 am. Get out of bed is more of an overstatement though seeing as I about fall on my face when the alarm makes me about have a heart attack. If it isn’t the near-death experience that wakes me, it’s definitely the cause of the massive bruise probably forming on my lower back.

The rest of the morning goes by in a blur, but I’m luckily conscience enough to brew a fresh pot of straight black tea. If I’m going to make it to the train station without committing at least one felony, I’m going to have to down like a gallon of this shit.

I click the stove lighter and mentally go over the packing list in my head. I’ll only be gone a month, so the bare necessities are all I really need to worry about. Makeup isn’t that important; I’m just going for a personal vacation before college starts, so there’s no point in impressing anyone. I tap each finger as I check off box after box. Undergarments: check. Seven pairs of outfits: check. Toiletries: check. Spare money: check. Boarding pass:…

Dammit, where did I put that thing? My lip sneaks beneath my teeth as I fish for the ticket amongst the various piles on the dining room table. Probably should clean those up at some point.

Bill. Bill. Grocery ad. Bill. Bi-

The pot whistles just as I’m pulling out the white slip. I almost drop the darn thing when I race to stop the kettle before it wakes my mom in the other room. I let out a sigh of relief and tilt the water into my to-go cup. The pass goes in my purse, and I slip out the door with a whispered “I love you” to my mom.

The ride to Narcís was generally uneventful. It took about ten hours, but it honestly felt like three. Turns out sleeping through a vast majority of your trip distorts your perception of time a bit. Luckily though, I’m feeling much more refreshed and awake than I had that morning which is probably a blessing to those that have to deal with me for the rest of the day. I order a small lunch, just a sandwich, and some fruit along with a bottle of water to give me a bit more energy when the food cart rolls by.

I’m surprised at how much the scenery changes in the matter of a few states. Gone are the barren, rolling hills of Magnolia and here are the thick, colorful forests of Narcís. The sheer number of trees and wildlife astound me. I mean I had seen forests before when I had lived in Hargeon, but this was something else. They were everywhere, and where they were, they were deep. Thousands of pines lined the tracks for miles at a time. The area behind the vast rows was immersed in shadow due to the heavy presence of trees and brush and undergrowth. It was like I had entered a brand new world filled with life and comfort. Something about it felt…like home, like I belonged there and something was calling me back.

I snack on a sliver of pineapple as the last of a particularly thick patch of woods whizzed past my window. I quickly place the bowl on the empty seat across from me and leaned towards the window to see the town I would call home for a little while. It’s pretty small compared to those I had lived in in the Magnolia, its central area only spanning a few miles all around. Compared to my little pile of buildings in Hargeon, this might as well be a kingdom. The town itself was surrounded at all points by thick pine trees and maples. To the west sat the port to the ocean where they no doubt got their supplies seeing as the only way by land into the town is by train. The stores weren’t all that much, just a bunch of small, one-story buildings. They lined either side of a long road that spanned the entire length of the town, connecting it as a branch holds onto leaves.

I stumbled across this place when I was researching port towns for some history project in eighth grade or something and just happened to see my project when I was cleaning out my closet. The walls had been pressing in on me at that point, and I had decided to do something about it. I then started saving money and picking up hours at the coffee shop to begin funding my expedition. Now I was finally here, and the anticipation was killing me.

We pull into the main station, probably the biggest building in town, about five minutes later and I don’t waste one second before leaping onto the platform, almost losing my floppy hat in the process. I instantly collide with a gust of fresh, salty air and can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of my chest. My stomach leaps. I was here. I was finally here. I pull my suitcase behind me and approach the overlook facing the sea.

My mouth about drops to the floor. Water. Dark and blue and everywhere. From as far right to as far left as I could see. That vast expanse spreads up and over the far horizon in the distance. White seagulls fly overhead, cawing and begging for scrap that the few visitors drop in their haste to leave the metal contraption. I don’t turn back though; I can’t turn back. My eyes are glued to the blue and how the sun peeks out from behind dark clouds above to shimmer on the ocean’s surface. It really was like a sapphire, I noticed. The blue was slightly off, opting more of a dark, midnight hue, but the way the sun caught waves that crested and moved was spot on.

Another gust rushes through me, ruffling my hair and raising the hair on my arms. I almost shudder with the wave of freshness and belonging that hits me when the spray of salt caresses my face. My eyes drift back open, and I realize that I can suddenly feel the sun on my head. It takes me a second to piece together that my hat was no longer on top of my head.

I whip around, eyes grazing the concrete floor searching for the golden straw and pink flowers of my hat, landing, luckily, only a few feet away. I start towards it. Then stop dead in my tracks.

Because I see it. I see him. I first notice his hair then his rich, sage eyes then the way his mouth parts. The handle to my suitcase slips from my grasp. The hat floats away, all concerns of it blowing right along with it. Time stills. People filter from my vision until it’s just him. Just him and me.

I feel my lips part, my hands rising to cover them. I feel myself mouth his name. I hear my own, his voice floating towards me effortlessly in all its deep, whispered glory.

Then I’m running. And he’s running. And I have my arms wrapped around him so tightly I don’t know if it’s too hard or rough, but I don’t care. I don’t care. Because it’s him. And he’s here. And…and…

“Natsu,” I murmur, my whispered voice breaking.

I feel the tears sliding down my cheeks. I don’t bother to hide my sobs, and I tighten my hold around his neck. He tightens his grip, making it hard for me to breath. I know he’s struggling too, but I can’t bring myself to let him go lest he slip between my fingers again. He nuzzles into my neck. He mutters something against my skin. I feel something wet slide down my skin, and I know he’s crying too. I don’t pull back to see. I don’t loosen my grip in the slightest even though my body is shaking violently.

I pull back when I’m finally unable to get enough air in my lungs, but I don’t untangle my arms from around his neck. I realize that I have to lean back to meet his eyes this time. His rich, olive eyes shimmer with tears that also streaked thin lines down his face. His features are harder, stronger than before and his hair a bit thicker, a bit lighter with sun-kissed streaks of gold mixed with the now light rose. He now stands a head taller than me opposed to level with me all those years ago.

“Lucy,” he mutters back.

I can’t help the way my heart leaps at how his deep timber whispers my name as if he can’t believe that I’m here just like I can’t believe that he is either. A smile explodes across my lips.

“Yeah. It’s me,” I say back.

A toothy grin spreads across his face, and a thick laugh rumbles out of his chest and into mine. The sound sends my heart into a frenzy and reminds me how much I missed that sound. I can’t help the laugh that bursts past my lips at that noise. I feel his grip around me tighten, and my feet lift off the ground, and he spins me. And I laugh more. Because it’s silly. Because I’m happy. Because it’s him.

He sets me back down a moment later. My breath hitches again as I stare back into his eyes. I realize then, with a crushing sense of finality that he’s actually here after all this time. I feel my vision blur and a ball rise in my throat when it hits me how much his presence means to me and how much it hurt when he was gone. Not because he was one of the very few in my heart. Not because we were together. But because with him, I felt home; I finally felt right. And it was Natsu. And he was now a part of me, and I was whole again. And I just…

“I missed you,” I choke out. “I missed you so much.”

His smile softens, and he lifts a hand to wipe the tears streaming down my cheek.

“I missed you so much it ached. I missed you too. So, so, so much.”

His own eyes shimmer, reminding me for a moment of the ocean and how the sun made it sparkle like a jewel.

My smile grows, and I hiccup. I pull him down until his lips meet mine. My eyes slip closed. And it’s just us.

I kiss him with everything I have, all the pain, the loneliness, the longing. I press my lips so hard against his own, I know they’re going to bruise. He presses back with just as much intensity if not more. I don’t care that our teeth clack together when we collide or how our lips tingle with the other or the roaring of the blood in my ears. I just want to drink in as much of him as possible. The taste of salt and strawberries slips across my tongue when I slip it between his parted lips. My fingers weave into his hair and slide against his skin, basking in the warm feel of his skin against my own, the way his hair glides through my fingers. He groans against my mouth but continues his assault. His hands slide up and down along my back, trying to feel as much of me as he can. His fingers find the bottom of my t-shirt and slide under. I try to hide my shudder, but struggling is proving pointless.

I have to pull back, whether it’s to breathe or stop myself from caving in, I’m not sure. We both stand there panting, foreheads pressed together, taking each other in. We still can’t believe our eyes, our lips, our hands. I feel his eyes on me, but I can’t bear to open my own. I don’t want this to be a dream. I don’t want to wake up again only to find him not next to me.

I slowly slide my hand down his neck, down his chest, and around his back. I lean forward and press my face into his shoulder. My fingers tighten on the fabric of his shirt. He lets out a sigh and wraps his warm arms around my back beneath my shirt. His head buries into my hair, the movement so familiar, so…him. I allow his scent, the warm smell of a campfire and sandalwood washing over me, covering me, swallowing me whole.

And I let it. Because it’s Natsu. And I’m home.

#summer writes #nalu #fairy tail #ft fanfics #nalu fanfics #nalu fanfiction

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breezypunk · 5 months

Text

"morning, thief.."

The gifs are ass, but I spent a hair ripping amounts of hours trying to do this, and the quality is lousy cos my graphics are lousy but I had to! I just had to. I'm satisfied. Look how cute they are ::blushies::

#cyberpunk 2077 #goro takemura #oc: vaughn leblanc #otp: golden hues #takemura x v #masc v #my gifs #(horrible gifs but idc lmao)#one day I'll learn how to gif or I'll get a better pc kdndjgnsjrg #-#sorry to drag my own gifs I'm learning to like my own stuff still lol #one thing about the second gif I really love is v's expression #before he smiles widely he's just looking at goro with heart eyes #and in the first gif he looks over it but as soon as goro enters the room he's all butterflies :3 #they really do love each other sm even when they annoy the hell outta one another haha

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void-within · 7 years

Note

1, 3 and 5 for the salty ask meme, for Dragon Age and/or Mass Effect 😛

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

I suppose a good enough writer can make anything work, but I’m not a fan of pairings where characters involved are entrenched at polar opposites about something fundamental to them as characters, especially when they’re willing to do violence to the other side. Can’t think of a Mass Effect pairing, but Anders/Fenris in Dragon Age 2 is a great example.

3. Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?

No.

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

Mass Effect: Nope.

Dragon Age: I was originally indifferent to Solas/femLavellan, but a million Daenerys-colored, doe-eyed Lavellans insisting it was True Love and he did nothing wrong pinned it right on top of my blacklist. Unless it comes from @vhenantrash, that blog is golden. Hue hue hue hue hue.

#answers #dragon age

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seesgood · 7 years

Note

Name three things you love about roleplaying, two pet peeves and one true pairing then send this to the next five people on your dash or your five favorite blogs to spread the love!

THREE THINGS I

1. the people. the people are the best, like honestly i know the longer you’re on here the more bad / weird experiences you have but as a whole, i think the people are pretty fucking fantastic. really caring, really kind, really talented, it’s super inspiring. 2. getting to branch out. there are some shows and characters that i never would have looked twice at had i not started writing here, and now i don’t know what i’d do without them in my life.3. learning things! i’ve actually somewhat learned how to do some stuff on photoshop because of rp, i’ve learned basic html stuff, how to write better and deal with people --- and even though it’s for a hobby, those are skills that i’ll probably find uses later on for in life for various things.

TWO PET PEEVES:

1. ummmmm does it make me a bitch if i say this new trend of like passive writing? like ‘the door was pushed open by harold’ i can definitely stand that but then it gets worse when you add prose-y writing that to me just kinda doesn’t do much like ‘mahogany door was pushed open by deft, nimble fingers of harold, golden ember hues blahblahblah’ 2. people who act like assholes; like???? i get selectivity and certain rules in order to limit anxiety and because of previous experiences but there are some things that people will do or say that i’m just like ???? there are other people on the other side of the computer that have feelings and just BE NICE TO ONE ANOTHER

ONE TRUE PAIRING:

i’m thinking it doesn’t count if my original otp that got me into rp was klaroline so i’ll go with...steroline? because some asshole on here ( not naming names but it rhymes with carb ) started writing with me and kinda shone light on this amazing potential for a ship that i’d never really thought about before in that context, and now like 800 years later and 1000 aus and threads after this moment my entire life is pretty much like ‘remember that time when he hugged her? yeah i died.’

#triedtobcgood

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djfatchip · 7 years

Text

🎂 Happy Birthday - Gustine 🎉

OC’s: Celestine Claire Shepard & Gustav Bertrand Paring: Gustine Rating: NSFW Words: 9222 Universe: Mass Effect 3 (Somewhere in there) Note: Since its Shepard’s birthday, our OTP have the same birthday and they decided to celebrate. Celestine has a nice surprise for him. ^_^

There is NSFW at the end.

Violin song she played Alone Wolf

Song they dance to: Promise by Romeo Santos ft. Usher

Dance routine inspired by this video and this video.

Celestine’s melody is this song called Time Forgets by Yiruma

NSFW theme song: La Danse De La Lune by Ivan Torrent

NSFW song being sung: Мon amour mon ami by Marie Laforet English translation here.

Trasnslations and what they wore and their presents to each other is shown at the very end of this prompt.

Gustav Bertrand belongs to @erubadhriell

Special thanks to @erubadhriell for helping me with Gustav’s answers to Celestine’s questions! You are awesome dear! :D

Likes and Reblogs are love 💖 and if you read it all the way to the end thank you so much for reading! You are awesome! 💖

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[Celestine Claire Shepard x Gustav Bertrand Art by @pickart-master]

He stared at the mirror for the fifth time, checking to make sure that there were no wrinkles on his suit.

“Put this on and meet me at this location,” she whispered seductively in his ear with a lick to his earlobe and left, looking at him over her shoulder with a tempting smirk as she walked away.

Black eyebrows knitted together as he tried to think of what she could be doing.

“Think there will be cake?” he whispered to himself as he grabbed a small blue box wrapped in a red ribbon and a small bouquet of red roses. “There better be,” he answered himself as he left his room.

He entered the elevator and pressed the button to go to the CIC.

“I should have grabbed a cookie before going to the CIC…” he whispered to himself. “You should go get it now. She won't mind if you are late,” he answered himself. “No… she wouldn’t like it that i'm late…” he whispered to himself. “It’s not like she gave you a time…” he answered himself.

The elevator door opened, halting his thoughts for a moment as he walked into the CIC. He barely made it passed the Normandy’s hologram when he was stopped by a giggle in front of him.

“Well, look at you!” Jessica smirked. “Fancy.”

“It’s what Claire said to wear…” he said softly as Jessica circled him.

“Well, it suits you,” she said as she admired the expensive black suit with the three button, open dark red shirt at the top, held by a black vest and finished with a black blazer.

“Thanks.”

Jessica smiled and hugged him tight. He returned the hug, careful to not harm his gift and flowers.

“Happy birthday, Scout.”

Gustav smiled at that, closing his eyes as he held her. She smelled of coffee and chocolates. Jessica smiled as somehow Celestine’s scent was faint on him. Even through new clothing. Chocolates and mint. That’s what Gustav smelled like now. Before he always smelled of gun polish and that new earthly smell after it rains. She sorta missed it.

“If you two come back early, let me know,” she said with a smile as she let him go, placing her hands behind her back and started to walk away backwards from him.

Gustav nodded and began to leave the Normandy.

----

“Hey, Loup Noir!”

Gustav barely made it past Illium’s market when he heard his nickname. He turned around and was tackled by a head of golden hair.

“Happy Birthday, Loup Noir!” sing-songed Bryant as he looked at him with a grin.

Gustav chuckled patting his back softly as Bryant let him go.

“Happy birthday to you too, Bryant.”

Bryant stretched and inhaled deeply, “man! Today is going to be amazing!”

Gustav nodded as he turned his head to look over his shoulder. He still had a long walk ahead of him and he didn’t want to be late.

“What do you think Geai Bleu has in store for you?” he asked with a tilt of his head, looking at the horizon as the purple hue in the sky reminded him of cotton candy.

“That’s what i'm going to go find out…” Gustav replied softly. “Where’s Akeelah?”

Bryant shrugged, “don’t know. But i’m sure she is enjoying herself not being around me.”

Gustav shook his head. “Is that how you aim to get her attention?”

Bryant yawned and then spoke, “Akeelah can do what she wants. It’s my birthday and I will do what I want. She knows it’s our birthday and Geai Bleu’s. If she wants to be mean, then fine. But she won't ruin my day.” He turned to look at Gustav with a smile. “Go and enjoy yourself. Have fun!” he cheered as he began to walk away.

Gustav raised a dark brow as he turned around and began walking again. It was strange that Bryant had a non-caring attitude about the woman he claimed to have love for but then again he really didn’t care for their private affairs.

He opened his omni tool to make sure he was going the right way when he felt his foot walk over something that made a crunch sound. He paused, taking a step back and away from the object that he walked over. He bent down and picked up a single white rose. He furrowed his brows, confused for a moment and then looked at the road ahead of him. The road was filled with red and white rose petals.

He stood and rotated his shoulders, proceeding to walk down the road, following the rose petals until he reached a building. The soft wind picking up the petals from the ground and made them dance, swirling in front of him. His eyes followed the petals until his eyes looked at the building in front of him. It was a grand building. Not very typical for Illium but very fancy to be part of Illium’s theme. He looked down and proceeded to follow the petals again. It lead to the side of the building and up some stairs until he finally went inside a door and the petals ended at the entrance.

His eyes looked at the wooden floor and followed it’s pattern to the table in the center of the room adorned with two red candlesticks in the center. He approached the table cautiously. His eyes roaming the royal blue tablecloth and the white pristine porcelain cups and plates with thin golden rims at the edges. Two champagne glasses and a bucket to the side of the table filled with ice and in the bucket had two champagne bottles.

His eyes continued to looked around, his mind taking in every detail. The circular room, the red velvet curtains adorning the floor to ceiling windows. The bar at the other end of the room, another door across from where he came in and then he looked up and his eyes widen as the ceiling was in a shape of a dome and he could see the purple, pink sky through the glass ceiling.

The lights suddenly went off and he looked around to see what was happening. He narrowed his eyes as the a light focused on a stage across from the bar on the other side of the room. He slowly walked to the stage but froze midway when out she came from the red velvet curtains.

He swallowed hard as he took in her imagine. She wore a dazzling two piece red dress. If he could even call it a dress. Her top was practically a red bedazzled bra with silver adoring the edges of the upper chest. And the red bedazzled skirt was placed perfectly on her wide hips leaving her toned stomach exposed. She had a belly piercing and on her skirt was a slit that reached her upper thigh, exposing her silver four inch heeled pumps as she walked to the front and center of the stage. Her knee long raven hair was in curls, cascading behind her as she held it in a half ponytail and her bangs that normally hid her face, was combed to the sides so he could see her face. Her ears adorned with long ruby earrings he never seen her wear before.

He watched as she placed a cherry wood violin on her shoulder and neck. His eyes finally landed on her face as she raised the bow to play the instrument. Her eyes closed softly. Her makeup always on point. Her dark red cherry lips smiling softly as the first note began to play.

He took another step forward, entranced by the sound. He never seen her play. And only once has she ever played but was heard through the PA system aboard the Normandy. He would never forget the sound. It was beautiful to his ears.

She paused and inhaled. A test, perhaps. His eyes narrowed as she was a bit tense. He was going to speak up when suddenly she began to play her song.

Her song… his mind tried to comprehend.

Geai Bleu never played for anyone. She only ever played for me when I asked but she never willingly would play. If she ever willingly played a song for anyone, they should consider themselves lucky. That means you are one of a kind. The only kind. It goes with her true singing voice. You’ve only heard soft lyrical songs here and there… but her true voice… when she sings… her voice is… unreal… like it shouldn’t exist but it does… it’s the same when she willingly plays. It takes your breath away and it takes you into another world. A journey.

That’s what Bryant had told him once when having a deep conversation about Akeelah and Celestine. To know more about her, Bryant confessed. Her song was soft, beautiful. And then she began to sing.

When she sings, it’s… it’s not lyrical or musical. It’s hmm... melodic, crystalline, angelic… ethereal… if peace had a voice, that would be it. If the galaxy had a voice, that would be it. Her voice along with her music takes you through a journey. Your world no longer exists as it becomes a beautiful world of colors and emotion splashed in front of you. Your soul sings with her. It dances with her voice.

He thought Bryant was exaggerating but listening to it, it made him…. feel more than happy. He couldn’t describe it. He closed his eyes and allowed the beautiful melody to envelop him in a tender embrace. His mind finally felt clear as her given middle name. He felt himself and his worries melt away. He felt like she was calling him home.

Home… I have… a home…

Let me take you home…

Home…

He felt at peace. He more than enjoyed the feeling. He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to stay there. Where his world was now colors. Was now full of happiness and love. Of laughter. He wanted to stay.

Stay here with me…

I want to…

But the song did end. His world returning to him slowly as she played the last note on her violin, her voice leaving in a soft kiss to the wind for it to carry it across the sea of the galaxy. They opened their eyes at the same time. Steel Blue met with Midnight blue eyes.

“Claire…” he didn’t have words to describe what he just witnessed. What he just went through.

Celestine smiled softly at him and turned around, her hair swishing from side to side softly as she walked away from him. Her wide hips swaying from side to side. A foot after the other in a seductive strut, giving him view of her exposed back. He could see hints of her tattoo and her spine as it softly glowed, in sync with her breathing. Fading on and off very softly and slowly under her skin.

She walked down some stairs and placed her violin inside a case and closed it, picking up something small and walked towards him. The lights now turning on softly into a dim light, adding a romantic feel to the atmosphere as the sunset left and up came the moon on Illium. It’s light, cascading down on him, making him glow softly.

“Moonlight…” she spoke softly as she stood a few feet away from him. “You look handsome.”

Her eyes roamed his entire person. He stood there before her a bit awed as he stared back at her. She admired how well he cleaned up. His black hair always short but combed to the side and his beard was less than usual it seemed he decided to trim it for their evening together. And the suit hugged his body in a very dark, alluring way. The dark red shirt opened at the top adored with the black vest and finished with the black pants and blazer and dress shoes. Best of all, she didn’t know why, but he always glowed with the moon. The way the moonlight shined on him. It’s like he took it’s light and made it brighter. His light always reached her. Called to her. Like a moth to a flame.

Gustav smiled softly in return. A smile she rarely got to see. It was a big smile. One that was reserved only for her.

“You look, beautiful and that… that was incredible…” he said softly in awe.

She nodded as she looked at the box. “I never played for anyone… or sang for anyone. Well, besides lyrical songs here and there but…” she paused as she swallowed and looked up at him. “I want…” she blew a breath and looked around, trying to find the words to tell him. “I want… you to see all of me too…”

Gustav looked back at her. She seemed to be the only one who he could keep his eye contact for more than a minute. He could stare at her eyes for so long. Her eyes were dark as the ocean depths. A storm brewing in her eyes.

His eyes calmed that storm. They always have. They always followed. Always her companion. Her only companion during dark times.

“I am seeing all of you…” he whispered as he took a step towards her. Her barriers now down as she looked vulnerable before him. It astounded him how a fierce woman who showed no fear or mercy, have such cold eyes and personality, could suddenly have such tenderness and softness. Kindness and love.

Her love for him knew no bounds and he knew it. She knew it. He could see it. She could see it. And it amazed them both as they both met each other in three steps. She always had to look up slightly as she was still short compared to him. He was over six feet tall. And she was only five seven feet tall. Even with heels going to stand at five eleven feet tall, she was still short. She felt small under his intense gaze as he stared down at her.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered to her as he presented her the small bouquet of red roses.

His heart skipped a beat as she giggled softly and took the roses from his hand. Her cold fingers softly brushing against his warm ones.

“Thank you, Moonlight.” She looked at the roses and smelled the first one in front of her, closing her eyes, enjoying it’s scent. She placed her hand up for him to see that she held a small red box for him. “Happy birthday.”

He took the small box and smiled, “I have a box for you too. Here.” He presented her with the blue box and she took it with another soft giggle.

“My, but today is my lucky day. I get two presents from my boyfriend,” she laughed softly.

He chuckled as he moved out of her way to stand next to her and extended his arm for her to take. She gladly looped her arm with his and both walked to the table. She placed the roses on the side of the table with the box.

“We will open our presents together after dinner. Sounds fair?” she asked him as he pulled out her seat for her to sit down.

“That’s fair,” he replied as he went to his chair and sat down, placing the small red box near the roses.

Celestine pressed a button on the table and out came the asari waitresses with a rolling table full of food. They placed silver platters that were covered in the center of their table. The candlesticks fire casting a soft orange glow to both their faces as the waitresses uncovered the silver platters and left them to their own devices as they left the room.

“You know how much I love french food…” he said as his eyes took in every detail of the good looking food in front of him.

Celestine smiled, “I know. I do too. Now eat in moderation or i'm kicking your ass. I'm wearing my favorite kick ass heels too. So do what I say,” she smirked playfully.

He huffed, “If I wish, I could eat more.” He smiled playfully. “But I won’t.”

Celestine only shook her head with a small laugh escaping her ruby red lips. They both began to fill their plates with their favorite foods. Celestine grabbed a bottle of champagne and popped it open, grabbing the two glasses from the table and filling it up to the brim.

“I would think this place would be packed. It is a restaurant isn’t it?” he asked her as she placed the glasses back on the table and the bottle in the bucket.

“You are dating a rich woman, Moonlight,” she began to explain as she sat back down on her chair. “There are no simple dates with me. You get simple and extravagant dates,” she smiled as she finished her explanation.

Gustav only shook his head with a smile.

“I never dated a rich woman, so I don’t know…”

“Well, then allow me to be the first and only one to show you that world.”

They both smiled at each other, enjoying the quiet atmosphere. The romantic theme. They both took a bite of their plates of food and softly moaned in delight.

“So. What do you think so far?” she asked of him as she stared at him.

He swallowed his bite of food and answered. “This is… amazing. I didn’t think of this when you told me to put this on…”

“Well, it is a surprise. I did say that did I not?”

He smiled, “yes. You did. And it is… a very beautiful surprise. Thank you.”

She looked down at her food and blushed.

“I never knew… the extent of your talents…” he commented softly. “You continue to… surprise me…” He tilted his head to the side, “I… never met anyone… like you before…”

Celestine swallowed as her cheeks began to turn from pink to red. She looked away, not really knowing what to say.

“Well… I never met anyone like you before either…” she replied very softly.

Gustav shook her head in disbelief, “I don’t believe that. There are plenty of guys like me...”

She wanted to laugh but instead only smiled as she looked at him. Her eyes fluttering softly.

“It is true that I have met men who are kind. Gentle. But you are one of a kind to me Gustav. I cannot explain the why. I have dated only… two people… two men… and had a thing with Aria in the past but that’s it… Nothing else. Nihlus almost came close but that was… cut short...” she looked down at her food. “You are…” she paused as she looked up at him with an uncertainty he never seen before. “You are… everything I want and more in a person… and it came… unexpected…”

Gustav nodded. Understanding the sentiment. War was inevitable to find someone. Because death was in every shadow. In every corner. In every step he took, death was surly there to take him. But yet, amidst the chaos, here she stood. Or sat. He couldn’t describe it either. He has met many people and women. But she stood out among them all. And that was something he couldn’t form the words to tell her. She was saying what he couldn’t say. He hoped that would change one day on his part.

“Hey, Moonlight?”

He hummed in response as he ate.

“Who or what inspires you to be a better person?”

Gustav wiped the corner of his lips and swallowed his food. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes now focused on the fire softly dancing in the wind on the candlestick.

“Hm…” he thought for a moment. “The people I’ve come to care about and probably myself,” he began to explain. “You see, getting better is a constant fight, but we try it anyway, for the people around us, for us. I never had much in the past, but I do have a lot now and I don’t want to lose it. I want to be strong, I want to be better so that I can keep you at my side.” He paused as he stared at the moon in the purple sky above them. “Have you ever heard the quote; ‘Be the change you want to see in the world?’”

Celestine nodded, “yes.” She replied softly.

He looked at her, studying her face. Her emotions.

“So, that’s what I’m going for. We can’t make people change, but we can change… The change always start in us. I know, it’s not easy, but, at least, I can say I’m trying. And it’s more than many can say about themselves.” He paused and smiled at her softly.

Celestine return his smile with her own. He could be deep when he wanted to be. It amazed her how they hardly ever breached such questions. Yet became best friends without that added detail.

“What about you? Do you have someone or something that inspires you to be a better person? And don’t come here saying that you aren’t a good person because I know you are, you are trying too. I know you are trying.”

Celestine laughed as she reached for her glass of champagne, “so you know me well now huh?”

Gustav raised a brow, “I would like to think so…”

She giggled and took a sip of her drink and then looked at the liquid in front of her in deep thought. The bubbles suddenly were replaced with faces.

“Hmm… Nihlus, David, Kahlee, Ryker and Bryant are the people who… inspired me to be a better person…” she paused in thought as her eyes watched the faces disappear. “Akeelah, Blue and you included in that list… you all have somehow… make me believe that I am better than what I was made into…” she frowned as suddenly the champagne turned red. “But my anger and rage… makes me revert back to being cold blooded. Merciless. Killing… it brings me satisfaction… I cannot stop it… no matter how hard I try to not admit it but killing is all I have ever known…” she finished with that thought and took a small sip of the glass of champagne.

“That isn't true, Claire…” Gustav said with a shake of his head. “You are more than that. You are not what they made you into.”

Celestine smiled at that as she placed the glass cup back on the table, “I know. It’s one thing to hear it but another to believe it, Moonlight.” She looked up at the moon high above them. “I need to see it. I need to believe it myself.”

“You will.”

She nodded and looked back down at her plate of food. Her mind suddenly playing tricks on her. A dream she had a while back, was haunting her.

‘It was so real, so vivid...’

She hummed and then looked back at him. “If you found out your current life has been just a dream, would you choose to… wake up?”

Gustav mused that for a moment as he looked down at his plate and swallowed his food. “As hard as it could be… I think I prefer to wake up.” He paused as he took a sip of his champagne enjoying the bubbly taste going down his throat. “Dreams are great and they saved me from hell more than once, but they are also illusions. Real life… real life carries the truth and we aren’t free without truth.” He paused as he looked at the fire again. “I would be a prisoner of my own illusions if I didn’t want to wake up one day.” He chuckled softly. “Believe me when I say that I know how it is to be trapped by your own illusions.” He laughed at that.

Her heart accelerated and he could see by the glowing mark on her cheek that her breathing was going faster. She couldn’t hide from him, even if she tried now. Her cybernetics gave that away.

“Would you? Would you… choose to wake up?” He asked of her as he stared at her eyes. Watching the actual blue and not her cybernetics. She turned them off in her eyes so he can see her and only her. Just like he had done before.

Celestine stared back at him. Watching as the soft orange glow of the fire, danced in his eyes. “Yes,” she answered softly. “I would. Because I would like to face reality rather than a dream…” she paused for a moment and smirked. “And who knows, maybe you exist in the real world. And if you did, I would very much like to meet the man of my dreams,” she finished with a laugh.

Gustav laughed softly with her, “literally!”

She nodded while laughing with him. Both shaking their heads in amusement.

Music suddenly flooded the room. She looked at Gustav with a smile, She placed her napkin on the now empty plate and got up, holding her hand out for him.

“Dance with me?” she asked of him.

“Claire… you know I don't dance…” he said softly as he placed his napkin on his now empty plate too.

“Please? Just one.”

Gustav sighed. He could never say no to her anyway. He nodded and placed his big hand in her small one as he stood. Her hand was always cold. His were always warm. She liked that about each other. He could keep her warm while she kept him cool.

As the song began with its beat, Celestine pressed her body close to him and placed his hands on her hips.

“Follow my hips, Moonlight,” she whispered as she began to sway her hips to the rhythm of the song. “You’ve done it before… follow…” she sighed softly as she felt his touch on her exposed cold skin. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she looked at him and both began to move.

He was precise and in tune with her moves as she was so close. It was easy to get lost in her person. It was easy to forget that he didn’t dance as he moved with her. Her dress made it a little hard to place his leg in between hers but she kept close to follow and feel her hips.

“Feel the rhythm of the song, Moonlight…” she whispered her instruction as they didn’t break eye contact. She grabbed one of his hands and showed him how to twirl her out and back into his arms as her back was now pressed close to him. His hands placed back on her waist as they continued to dance to the song. She placed her hands on top of his and closed her eyes, feeling him so close. He smelled of chocolate and mints with a hint of that freshly earth smell after it rains.

He placed his face close to hers as he bent slightly forward, closing his eyes to enjoy her scent of vanilla and berries.

She turned her head, both barely opening their eyes, staring at each other through their eyelashes. She placed a cold hand on his cheek, her thumb softly caressing his warm skin as her eyes opened fully and roamed his entire face. Appreciating and admiring his beauty. He closed his eyes, exhaling softly, enjoying her touch. Something within her, pained to see how he leaned into her touch.

“Why did you choose to stay with someone like me?” she whispered to him in pure wonderment. “I am not… worthy of you…”

Gustav opened his eyes and stood to full height. Turning her around in his arms, keeping her flush to him as they stared at each other. His hands going to the small of her back to keep her locked in arms. Her hands placed on his chest, looking at him for an answer.

“Please, don’t start with ‘I’m not worthy of you’,” he whispered softly. “Because you are. You are worthy of everything you want. But first of all, I think I didn’t chose it. And don’t laugh when I say this but… I think maybe it was destiny?” he paused as she stared at him again with an uncertainty he had never seen before. It was starting to alarm him a bit. “It was never a matter of choice, but of time. How long would it take for me to realize that I belong here, at your side?” The question lingered in their minds for a moment and then he continued. “So I didn’t choose anything…” He inhaled softly and continued to softly sway side to side with the music. “I love every aspect of you.”

She looked down. Her mind berating her suddenly as the dream flashed before her closed eyes.

“I love how, despite of everything that happened to you, you are still trying.”

His soft-spoken french voice bringing her back to reality. To their moment. She blinked looking up at him.

“I love that you are a creator and I admire it in you. I love that you always make me laugh and feel comfortable…” he paused as he blinked. He looked away from her. His eyes looking at the wooden floor. “You know… most people think I’m crazy because… because of my brain. But you… you make me feel comfortable.” He blinked several times and looked back at her. “Hell, you even make me want to look into your eyes something that you know well, it’s hard for me to do when I’m talking to others…” they both blinked at that. Staring at each other. He could drown in her eyes. No matter how long he could stare at them. “I belong here, Claire, with you…” He raised his hand and softly caressed her cold cheek. It was soft. Delicate. “And, you know, you have nice curves.”

She didn’t expect that as she giggled and smacked his chest. She was less tense now and that made him smile.

“Now, your turn: why did you choose to stay with this awkward nerd?”

She giggled and grabbed his hand to twirl her out and back into his arms. She stared at him with a soft smile.

“You are not an awkward nerd. A cute one though, but not an awkward one. At least I don't think so…” she paused and looked around to find the words she needed to tell him. “Gustav… I didn’t choose to stay…” they both paused in their dance as she looked at the floor. She slowly looked back at him. Their eyes connecting again. “I was always here… waiting for you…” she tilted her head to side as she stared at his face. The soft and faint wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. The perfectly shaped black eyebrows. The scar on his right eyebrow. The way his hair was so soft and almost fell softly on his forehead. The small pointed nose. The soft lips he carried to whisper sweet things to her. Truth’s to her. “I was always here. You were always a constant companion. As you said, it was only a matter of time. When we will meet again…” she grabbed his hand and placed her lips on his knuckles, leaving a cold kiss. “Who would have thought I would see that boy again. And grown into a handsome man,” she smirked seductively as her hands went to his ass and squeezed.

He bent forward and captured her tempting full ruby red lips with his own soft lips. A cold hand going to the nape of his hair, on the back of his neck as she held him close.

“Gustav…” she murmured against his lips.

Gustav placed their foreheads together as they both became breathless. A hand going to her chin, softly tilting her face to make her look at him. His thumb softly brushing across her bottom lip and he always loved seeing her close her eyes and sigh in pure bliss that only his touch brought to her. His eyes fixated on the tip of her small tongue, how it flicked out and licked his thumb as it brushed across her lip slowly. A fire ignited within him that only she could make it a blaze and burn brighter.

He couldn’t resist and bent down to capture her lips again, his hands roaming a bit lower until one hand landed on her rear, softly caressing her side as he felt her cold thigh and brought her leg up, leaving her lips as she bent back and slowly came back up to meet him as the song ended.

“You are an excellent follower of hips…” she smirked seductively as his hand softly caressed her leg and up her rear to be placed back on her hips.

“I have an excellent leader…” he smirked in return.

“Come, let’s blow out our candles,” she advised as she grabbed his hand and brought him back to the table.

“I never blew candles…” he confessed as she pressed the button on the center of the table and sat down on her chair as Gustav sat down in his chair.

“There is always a first time, Sweet Sinner,” she said with a wink.

It was a dirty pun in there which made him laugh with a shake of his head.

The door to the other side of the room opened and out came a medium chocolate size cake adored with unedible red roses and edible chocolate roeses.

The five waitresses told them to get up and Celestine asked them to take a picture and a recording as she wished to remember this day. Omni tools turned on from the waitresses as Gustav and Celestine stood in front of the cake. They began to sing to Celestine and Gustav happy birthday. He was a bit blown away that they would sing and make it a huge deal that they both blew their candles on a day like this.

“Happy birthday!” they cheered and clapped.

“Thank you!” they both clapped and laughed in return.

The waitress that took their picture and recording sent them both to their own omni tools. Celestine opened her omni tool and posed next to him. He smiled, bending a little down to pose with her so she could have this memory forever.

Together they cut the cake. Both holding the big knife as it went through the soft bread. She grabbed two plates and handed it to him.

“Let’s go to the balcony,” suggested Celestine.

Gustav nodded and followed her to the other door on the other side of the room from which he came from. They both stepped outside, the night air refreshing their heated skin from their dance. Celestine placed her plate on the terrace and jumped up to sit on it. Gustav stood in front of her. His stomach coming into contact with her knees as he began to eat his piece. His eyes widen in delight.

“Chocolate with hazelnut!”

Celestine nodded, “It’s your favorite!” she giggled and took her plate and began to take a bite of the cake.

Gustav nodded and began to eat his piece. He even went for another. Celestine giggled as she watched him enjoy himself.

“Don’t eat too much. Don’t worry, the rest will go back to the ship. Any leftovers as well for the crew,” she informed as she was done eating. She was full.

Gustav nodded, “I am full anyway…” he commented as he placed his fork down and wiped his lips with his napkin and placed both plates to the side of her.

Celestine sighed as she looked up at the moon.

“What was the most awkward conversation you ever had with someone?” she asked him.

Gustav laughed at that. Celestine smiled. His laugh always made her smile. Made her feel warm. His voice was her song.

“Where do I even start? C’mon, Claire, did you ever take a look at your boyfriend? Probably most of my conversations are really awkward. Especially when I’m drunk. I think you have a fair count of times when I was drunk to know what I’m talking about. You can count all those times among the most awkward conversations.”

Celestine laughed, “I have looked at my boyfriend.” She winked at him. “That’s why I hunted you down, Sweet Sinner.” Her eyes darkened as she checked him out.

He smirked, “I know you cant resist.”

“Don’t get cocky, Moonlight,” she hummed in approval.

“Its truth,” he said as he closed his eyes and upturned his chin and placed his hands in his pockets.

Celestine jumped down from the terrace and walked towards him. Placing her hands on his stomach and pushing him against the door. She fisted her hands on the top of his collar and brought him down for a passionate kiss.

He placed his hands on her hips and picked her up with ease. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he walked back into the building. Keeping her lips locked with his, he spinned them around.

She giggled, not expecting that.

“What are you doing?” She laughed as she looked at him.

“Nothing, just thought of it,” he smiled.

She placed their noses together and he giggled. She loved hearing him so happy. So relaxed. So himself.

“We should open our presents,” he advised as he placed her down.

“Alright.”

They both went back to the table and picked up their boxes as they sat down.

“You go first,” she suggested.

Gustav was about to protest when she spoke quickly, “I need to know that it works…”

He raised an eyebrow at that and began to unwrap his present. He liked the red galaxy like paper wrapper. He opened the small red box and his eyes widen. He gingerly picked up the two silver rings and held them at eye level. One was thick and the other thin. The thin ring had a silver rose on it and the thick ring had the shape of the rose on it.

“Claire…” he said her name and then was struck speechless.

She smiled as she got up and took the rings and grabbed his right hand. She placed the thick silver ring on his right ring ringer.

“These are promise rings” she began with a smile as she looked at his wide eyes. “It’s a promise that I will stay by your side. That… no matter what happens, I will always support you in whatever you do and be there for you.”

“Claire…” he swallowed as he looked at ring on his right, ring finger.

He quickly picked the other one up and placed it on her right, ring finger and looked at her.

“You know i'm here for you too. In whatever you do. In everything.”

She smiled and placed her lips on his forehead, giving him a soft kiss.

“Why did you say if you need to know if it works?” he asked she backed away from him.

She hummed as she took off their rings and placed them together. A small projection came to life before them. She smiled as suddenly his ears were flooded with her voice and song that she just performed for him.

“Claire...”

He could see pictures of them. It faded to show another. And another. And another.

“Vous n'êtes jamais seul, mon chevalier de la lumière de la lune…” she whispered as she looked at him.

He looked back at her, “Jamais…” he whispered in return.

She kissed him softly. The promised sealed.

“Now open yours,” he whispered against her lips.

She smiled, giving him a quick peck and nodded, taking the rings apart and placing his ring back on his finger and she quickly placed hers on as walked to her side of the table, sitting down and picking up the box, placing it in front of her.

“What is it?” she asked as she continued to stare at the small blue box.

“Open it and find out.”

She hummed and softly pulled on the ribbon, watching how it fell down, undone. She turned the gift around, opening it meticulously as it became undone and then turned it around to take off the lid of the white box and she softly gasped at what contained inside.

She took out the small blue sapphire heart shaped glass out of the white box it came in. Her eyes in full adoration of the small thing in her hand.

“Gustav, I love small cute things! I cannot resist cute things!”

Gustav chuckled softly, “especially small, cute, crystal figurines…”

She nodded, “especially those!”

The small blue sapphire heart shaped crystal was adored with two blue roses. She loved roses, they were her favorite flower.

“Did you make this?” she is asked in full curiosity and excitement of the small heart shaped glass.

He nodded softly.

“Moonlight... it’s so beautiful!” she exclaimed. “I love it!”

Her smiled was a bit bigger as she continued to look at the small box. That was all that mattered to him in this moment as her eyes themselves were already dark sapphires, glittering in happiness.

“You’re welcome...” he replied softly and he too smiled big.

She tilted her head to the side and her smile fell slightly. Something inside called her attention and she placed her red painted fingernail on the opening of the crystal. When it opened, it wasn’t just an ordinary crystal but a music crystal box. It played her melody. And inside the music box was a coin. But not just any coin. She knew the significance and importance of that coin.

“Gustav…” she said his name so soft it made him wonder if she was ok. She placed the small heart music box down in front of her and gingerly picked up the coin which was held by a thin golden chain. She held it at eye level for them both to see. She looked passed the coin and then onto his eyes. “This is your lucky coin. Why would you give this to me?”

Gustav smiled as he got up, placing his napkin on the table and went to her, sitting on his knees to keep eye level with her. She looked down at him as she dangled the chain with her fingers.

“Because I don't need it…” he paused as she knitted her eyebrows together. “I… I have…” he inhaled deeply as his hand was going to her cheek. She leaned into his touch as it touched her cold cheek. “I have you now…”

He watched as her eyes widen. Her melody still playing in front of her.

Time seemed to stop as he waited for her to say something. Anything. Until finally he saw her eyes began to glass over. A tear falling as she closed her eyes. Another fell. He cupped her face and with his thumbs, brushed her tears away.

“Why are you crying?...”

“Dove… this means so much to you… I…”

He knew where she was going to say next. Instead he took the necklace and placed it on her, moving her hair out of the way and over the necklace once it was placed on her. It was perfect. It hanged precisely at the top of her chest, before it met the space between her breasts.

“You are all I need…” he said to her as he came to stand before her.

Celestine got up and pulled him down from his blazer to kiss him.

“You are all I need too…” she whispered against his lips and kissed him again.

She hugged him tight, not knowing what else to say.

“Thank you,” she decided upon. “I will treasure this forever.”

Gustav hugged her back equally tight. He knew that she would. With the way she took very good care of her locket her step father gave to her, he knew it was in perfect hands. And he really didn’t need it. It meant a lot back then. Now, she replaced that. She was all that mattered to him.

“Happy birthday…” they both whispered to each other. Both a bit emotional of their own gifts.

“Bell said that if we return early we should tell her,” he said suddenly.

Celestine hummed as she turned around and grabbed the closed champagne bottle.

“I have one more surprise for you,” she winked at him and smiled over her shoulder as she walked to grab her violin case.

“Claire, that’s not fair… this is already enough…” he said as he watched her come back to the table and open the violin case. She placed her blue music box back inside the box it came in and placed it inside the case along with the wrapping papers and ribbons.

“So we are not getting laid on our birthday then?” she raised and eyebrow as she looked at him, closing her violin case and grabbing it, ready to leave the building.

Gustav laughed, shaking his head at her incredulous face expression.

“As far as i’m concerned, we have fucked around every single holiday and our birthday’s are also special you know.”

He shook his head still laughing.

“And I just bought a beautiful lingerie to tease you with it. That is so not going to waste. I have been dying to tear off that suit since I saw you.” She paused with a smile as he continued to laugh. “Men in suits are a weakness, I will have you know.”

Gustav placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her to the door to leave the establishment.

“You know, that lingerie is just going to end up on the floor…” he whispered as the walked down the stairs.

She smirked, “how fast can you take it off this time?”

“What’s my record?”

“18 seconds,” she winked at him.

He hummed, “take it off in 5 seconds. I'm a pro at it now.”

She giggled as they walked back to the ship.

“Cloak with me,” she asked.

And so he did cloaked as they both entered the Normandy without EDI alerting the crew. They bypassed everyone quickly and quietly and went to his room. He didn’t even notice it was his room until they both decloaked. His mind too busy with other ideas and following her.

“Why my room?” he asked as she placed her violin down and the champagne bottle on his desk.

She went to him. He was suddenly reminded of their first time. Her eyes fluttering softly but the danger aura surrounding her, called to him. The way the atmosphere suddenly changed to a different mood. A passionate one.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he placed his hands on her hips.

“Because I want to be… drowned in your world…” she whispered and brought his face down to kiss him.

------------------------------------NSFW Below This Point-------------------------------------

Tongues flicked out to meet in a dance they knew well. She sighed in bliss as his hands touched her spine. The euphoric feel coming to her in full force. He pinned her to his desk, lifting her up to sit at the edge, feeling her expose thigh. He felt the zipper of the skirt and pulled it down.

Her hands busy with pushing off the jacket. Once it came off, the vest followed and in one pull, the buttons ripped off of the dark red shirt, dropping all around them.

“Claire!” he exclaimed against her lips.

She didn’t say anything as her biotics activated, her kiss now more demanding. His thoughts clouded as he felt overwhelmed with desire. Her nails softly raking down his toned chest and stomach. He inhaled sharply as she softly scratched down his skin until she finally had hands on his pants and got to work on his belt.

He picked her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist, the pants falling leaving him only with his boxers. Her silver pumps already on the floor as he kicked off his shoes and pants. They both fell onto his bed as he took off the now buttonless red shirt. He left her lips leaving a trail of fire on her skin as he kissed down her neck to her collar bone.

She flipped them over, her on top, bringing him to sit up to take off her top. It came off rather quickly. Already knowing his way around her clothing.

She let it fall in front of them and he tossed it to the side, hands going back onto her spine to hear the sigh that always escaped her ruby red lips when he touched her there. It was a soft sound but so passionate. So deep was the feeling that he brought to her. He couldn’t describe it as she arched her back. Her cold skin heating up as his lips closed on the dark peak of her breast while his other hand got busy with the other. She moaned softly. Her cold fingers softly tracing the scars from so long ago around his chest. She pushed him onto his back and away from her plump breast. She gave him another breathless passionate kiss and then kissed every scar she came into contact with as she kissed her way down.

“Claire…” he whispered softly as he watched her go lower and lower. Each kiss she gave on every scar she came into contact with, it was like she was trying to kiss his pain away. Her touch over his scars made him shiver in delight. Prompting soft sighs to escape his soft lips.

He sucked in a hard breath and closed his eyes, a hand fisting the sheets and another going to her hair as she took his length into her mouth. He gasped as she bobbed up and down his entire length. Going deep down her throat.

“Claire…” he groaned softly.

She hummed softly, as she withdrew only for her tongue to tease the head of his dick and took him back into her mouth.

“Claire… fuck…” he softly gasped.

She smirked as she came up and kissed him.

“I love it when you curse,” she murmured against his lips.

“That’s no fair!” he softly groaned as she moved her hips. He felt her heat in between them. “That’s too many suprise--” his complaint died in his throat as she kissed him, her tongue seeking his.

“Shut up,” she whispered as she sat up, taking his hands to the sides of her underwear and he pulled on the red strings. The underwear fell. The only barrier left between them. She came up slightly and tossed it to the side.

“No,” he responded to her comment as he was breathing heavily, his eyes drinking in her form. Her biotics ghosting on her light brown skin as she took off the hair tie and her straight hair, now in curls, cascaded around her as she stared at him with desire.

“Keep saying no,” she whispered as he sat up, both staring at each other. He moved them to sit better on his bed. He knew what she seeked.

“No…”

He placed his hands on her now warm hips as she placed her hands on his shoulders. He picked her up slightly as one of her hands went in between them to position him at her entrance.

“No?” she asked breathless.

“No...” he answered.

They leaned into each other and as their lips met so did he sheath himself in her warmth. Her moaned reverberated down his very being. He softly exhaled feeling her tight, very wet core. They both paused, just enjoying the feel of each other for a moment. And then they began to move, in sync with each other. His thrusts more powerful, demanding with each second that passed. Neither surrendering the others lips to get air. Both lost in their own world. Her biotics now softly buzzing on his heated skin. Her now warm fingers ghosting on his skin, feeling every single scar she could find to touch. Her touch was soft. Sincere. Love. His touch was soft, delicate, passionate. Euphoric as he touched everywhere he could of her skin. A hand landed on her rear and bent forward slightly to get in deeper. She gasped softly against his lips as now he was hitting his mark and he knew it.

“Sing…” he whispered in between their makeout.

“What?” she asked against his lips, breathless.

“Sing...”

She panted softly, trying to remember the lyrics to his song that he enjoyed hearing. She softly began to sing, “Toi mon amour, mon ami…” she whimpered softly as he began to thrust faster. Harder. His eyes watching how she withered under him. How her biotics began to get brighter and brighter with each thrust. “Quand je rêve c'est de to--” she paused as she arched her back, exposing her neck to him.

“Sing, Claire…” he softly murmured on her skin, stopping his movements.

Her mind coming to reality as he stopped.

“Mon amour, mon ami… Je ne peux vivre sans toi…”

He began to move again as he left love bites on her collarbone and licked down her skin to taste her until his lips closed on the dark peak that caught his attention. He bit softly down and sucked on her breast making her cry out softly.

“Mon... amour…. mon ami…. Et je ne sais…. pas pourquoi….” she moaned softly. “Harder…”

“... No…” he murmured as he let go of her breast and began to lick up her chest to her throat as he did as she asked.

“Keep saying no…” she gasped as her biotics flared brighter. The feeling coiling in her belly.

Her walls clamping down on his length making him groan softly.

“Gustav…” she moaned his name, music to his ears. He loved to hear her say his name. It sounded like a prayer. So soft. So in love. So lost. It aroused him even more. “Please…” she pleaded as they were both almost at their climax.

“Celestine…” he softly whispered her name. “No…” he said as he placed a hand between them, softly rubbing the exposed nub of her heated core.

She stared at him. Making him see what he did to her. Her biotics flaring even brighter. The soft hum of her biotics now enveloping him. Her eyes now pitch black as he overwhelmed her with his touch. She blinked, seeing stars suddenly as she cried out his name and her biotics flared out of her, blowing his mind to see her so bright. So out of control. It always astounded him. Her walls clamping down on his length as he thrusted once, twice and spilled himself within her, breathing heavily, softly gasping as he placed his face in her neck.

She held onto him, her fingers going into his hair, softly scratching his scalp. He had such soft black hair. She loved it. He moved them, with her holding him tight, onto his bed, the blankets tossed to the end of his bed. Their bodies too hot to place it on them.

“Happy birthday…” she whispered in his ear as she held him tight.

“Happy birthday…” he whispered in return, enjoying every second that passed having her in his arms.

Both softly sighed in bliss as they closed their eyes as she continued to scratch his scalp softly and he softly caressed her spine.

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Definitions:

Ethereal - Something ethereal is airy and insubstantial, such as a ghostly figure at the top of the stairs. It might also be something delicate and light, like a singer’s ethereal voice. Ethereal comes from the Greek word for ether, which is a drug that makes you feel light headed and, in larger doses, causes you to lose consciousness. An ethereal substance or sound is one that carries the feeling of ether––something you might see in a vision, that might strike you as heavenly or supernatural.

Melodic - Something that's tuneful or pretty to listen to is melodic. Anything sweet sounding — a bird's trill, a poet's voice, or the tune you sing in the shower — is melodic. A more technical meaning of the word is "containing melody," the definition a professional musician might use. Melody is a quality of music defined as "tunefulness" or "a satisfying series of notes." Music teachers play melodic patterns for their students to duplicate, and composers sometimes combine melodic phrases to form a symphony. The Greek root of melodic is melos, or "song."

Crystalline - Clear and shining like crystal. Sometimes used figuratively “A singer with a crystalline voice [=a beautifully clear voice]

Angelic - The adjective angelic can describe anything related to angels or resembling an angel. It can refer to actual angels, as in an angelic choir, which is a bunch of singing angels. Or it can be used to describe someone or something that has the sweet and gentle qualities of an angel.

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Translations:

Vous n'êtes jamais seul, mon chevalier de la lumière de la lune… - you are never alone my Moonlight Knight or Knight in Moonlight (french)

Jamais - Never (french)

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Details: