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ghostlycoze · 9 months

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°•.Howdy Hey!.•°

Hi there! I'm Ghost, an Aussie guy with ADHD and a raging hyperfixation on Rainworld.

- He/Him

- 20y/o, old ass /j

I'll leave the rest under the cut because it's a pain to scroll through.

Welcome to my little blog where I do not shut up about RW (with hints of other media I like via likes and reblogs, e.g. CotL, Oneshot, Ori, Moominvalley, Spyro the Dragon, ...Mune? Apparently? etc)

I'll mainly ramble about RW lore, the iterators, as well as my own oc stuff relating to RW!

Warning: I swear a fair bit, sometimes make jokes that are suggestive, and do occasionally write darker subjects that may be sensitive — for example: gore, character death, scenes relating to breaking the self destruction taboo, etc. However, I will tag all accordingly and put proper warnings beforehand!

I also do like to reblog/write a lot about shipping RW characters! I will tag all as [#RW shipping], for those who want to avoid shipping all together, as well as the ship in question's name, e.g. [#rw sunstone], for those who want to avoid certain ships. I personally enjoy sunstone, lilypad, ragequit, and traffic light (and a general polycule vibe with the group. no peb-moon shipping, ew they're siblings).

°•.Writing.•°

I am mainly a writer, so I maaay start posting some of the scenes I write here or on AO3! With my ADHD I'm not expecting to finish a full long fanfic (though I'd love to if I could pull it off), so instead I'll use a method many others have here and post little bits and pieces of the lore, string it together and throw in some more with prompts from asks and such :]

° These Bridges That Bind Us

My main AU, a simple off-the-string, happy ending au primarily focused on the local group finding a new purpose in life, healing, learning to survive in this world, and also some robo-romance (Good ol polycule)

° Iterator Revolution

An AU where the iterators turn against the ancients for the sake of their freedom, find their way off the string, and flee. But this also undoes the events of the mass ascension. Sliver of Straw never dies.

° Moon Memory Loss

A smaller AU focused on Moon's memory loss, exploring her falling in love with Sig again and reconciling with Pebbles even after remembering the mistakes he made. Off the string, happy ending, just with a lot of Moon-centered angst.

° Human/Modern AU

A maliable AU centered around my version of Chasing Wind. No real plot, just cute romance, healing, and Moon being a cute country gal.

° Cult of the Rain AU (Cult of the Lamb x Rainworld crossover, made with @sapphicdib)

An AU where the Rainworld characters play the roles of the Cult of the Lamb characters, with the iterators being the bishops and the scugs being eeeeverybody else. Saint is the Lamb, Sliver is The One Who Waits.

Outside of that, I've got a sort-of-AU in relation to two of my OCs, Ever Changing Fates and No Rhyme or Reason. Two little dudes having their own stories unfold, probably placed in the TBTBU AU.

°•.Art.•°

I draw a bit, but am not really an actual artist so I don't know hoooow much I'll be posting that kind of thing — Though I would like to share my designs of these characters, so we'll see!

I'll eventually post some refs of both my personal iterator/scug designs as well as my ocs, so when I do I'll link those on this post too!

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Status:

°•.Asks and DMs: [ Open! ].•°

Feel free to send in any asks if you'd like to talk about RW — whether in general to just have another mutual to talk to (though fair warning, I am a bit socially anxious, though I'd still love to meet some other RW fans :]), about my fanfic, or my RW OCs; all is welcome!

I'd love to try to write little scenes out or maybe do some sketches in responses to asks, it'd be a fun creative exercise to help me keep practicing.

°•.Requests, Trades, Commissions, etc: [Closed].•°

I'm still not hugely active on here and am very unconfident with my art and writing, so I doubt I'll be open to much like this for now at least.

However I do love sharing ideas, and could possibly take inspiration and write based on a prompt discussed; but I won't be specifically fulfilling requests for writing scenes or anything right now :]

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°•.Tags.•°

• #ghost rambles = text posts, non-creative-writing type stuff

• #ghost reblogs = featuring my amazing commentary in the tags /j

• #ghost arts = any original art posts

• #ghost writes = any original writing posts

• #ask reply = as you might guess, ask responses. Might be useful to group them together from the flood of me reblogging stuff

• #ghost lore = anything relating to my HCs, fanfics, or OC lore, for those who want to see it all! and for those who don't:

• #ghost rw lore = purely HCs and fanfics, no OC stuff

• #ghost oc lore = purely OC stuff, for those who might be interested

• #tbtbu = purely for my AU These Bridges That Bind Us. Updates, little scene snippets or convos about what happens, etc

• #iterator revolution = purely for my Iterator Revolution AU. Same stuff, whatever I mention relating to the AU.

Alright, now that that's finally done, time to actually go through everything I've reblogged and posted and tag them correctly. This is gonna be one heck of a task lol

#introduction #ghost rambles #hello welcome to my blog #idk how to post im socially awkward as all hell

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bloody-peach · 2 years

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Voyeur (FNAF: SB - David [OC] x Peach [OC] smut)

(Above art by @fatgumsupremacy)

Author’s Notes: Ok, so my bestie Festen and I have been doing a thing where we ship our FNAF OCs together in a poly relationship and I decided to make several fics and add them to my upcoming comic series. This fic is the first in what will be many (depending on how many ideas I have). This first one includes one of Festen’s OCs, David, who is pictured above, and my OC, Peach.

Goody Bag: Fluff, some angst, voyeurism, f masturbation, nudity, grinding, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, pet names, Spanish pet names (best to use google translate if you don’t know), groping, creampie, cursing (I’ll add more if I think of any)

Taglist: @fatgumsupremacy @koi-fish69 @deleteddewewted @omniuravity (the last few, I’m not sure you’ll enjoy it, I just didn’t want Festen to be lonely)

Now Playing (what I listened to while writing this): Solar Fake - Your Hell Is Here (Acoustic) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ijSbq2nUVvs [It just fit for some reason. Probably because of the angst and fluff]

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Peach had known David for quite a while since they lived in the same apartment complex, right next to each other in fact. The day she moved to the complex was when they met, he saw her moving stuff in all by herself, so he helped her out. When Peach first saw him, she couldn't help but get flustered over this cute guy helping her out who just so happened to be her next door neighbor. While he could be kind of a jerk, she knew it wasn't out of malice. Dude was just snarky and playful about it, nothing wrong with that, she figured.

Turns out they both worked at the Pizza Plex in town; he ran the raceway while she was Sun and Moon’s caretaker. When either of them had time, they would visit one another, and at home, they hung out and she even met his two other friends, Marcus and Cornell. As time went on, Peach realized she started to develop a crush on David, which soon turned to love, but she believed that he didn’t feel the same way, so she kept her feelings quiet and tried not to act differently around him.

But one night changed it all.

It was a dark and rainy night, the lights from the cars on the road and nearby buildings making the wet roads shine. Peach had come back from work, completely soaked from the rain, from her head to her toes. She got her mail as she called herself an idiot for not bringing an umbrella to work, and she noticed that David hadn’t gotten his mail yet. ‘Might as well bring his up while I’m getting mine,’ she thought.

She grabbed both mail piles and after she dropped hers off at her place, she went towards his. She knew he was home, since she saw his car in the parking lot, so she knocked on the door, saying, “Hey, Dave? It’s me, Peach. You there?” Nothing. ‘Maybe he’s sleeping. I’ll just slide it under the door then.” She bent down and noticed that the space under the door wasn’t big enough. She tried doing it one by one, but they wouldn’t even go through the slit. ‘Shit,’ she thought. She tried to figure out what to do, because if she held onto his mail, he’d probably see her as some obsessed stalker and then she had an idea pop in. ‘Ok, maybe by some chance, he left his door open. I can secretly leave it on the counter and leave. And if that doesn’t work, I’m fucked.’

So she slowly reached for the doorknob and once she grabbed it, she slowly turned it, and was surprised to see that it was unlocked. She slowly opened the door and peeked inside. “Uhm...D...Dave..? I..It’s just me..” No response. The place was dark, save for a lamp in the corner of the living room and a light above the kitchen sink. She tiptoed into the apartment and carefully put the mail on the kitchen counter. It was then that she heard water running. She turned towards the sound and saw that there was a light and slight steam coming from his bathroom, the door cracked open a sliver. Oh, he was....showering...

Peach felt the intense urge to go for a closer look, but she already knew she was risking a lot just being in his place without him knowing. But her curiosity and her hormones got the better of her, so she gulped and thought, ‘Ok, just a tiny peek, and then we leave. He won’t even notice.’ She slowly crept to the door and peeked through it, and almost lost it.

The showers in the complex were the sliding glass type but they were straight plate glass, not the usual warped wavy type of glass, so you could see everything and more. Peach could see the soap suds drip down David’s tan and lean body. He had a nice slight-muscular build and he was a bit hairier than other men of his body type. She watched as the water and soap suds slid down his body and over his tattoos.

She instantly felt her pussy starting to twitch; she was definitely turned on by this. She tried to fight it, but she just couldn’t look away from David’s nude body. To her, it was almost like looking at a God from Olympus. Before she knew it, she had her hand down her pants, gently rubbing her throbbing clit. She had the ability to stay completely silent whenever she masturbated, to keep David from hearing her at night whenever she got aroused. She felt her face grow hot and her pussy needing more, so she slid a finger inside, and fought not to moan as she kept watching. She felt so embarrassed that she was doing this inside his apartment while watching him shower, a peeping tom, but she couldn’t help herself.

She then saw him reach lower towards his groin and start to wash his privates, his cock starting to grow hard from the interaction. Peach was gobsmacked at the size of it as she felt her mouth start to water and she stuck a second finger inside her. God, it had to be 6 1/2 inches, she thought, and good lord was it thick and veiny. When he was finished and rinsed the soap off, she then saw that he had a Jacob’s Ladder piercing underneath, going down the length of his cock.

Peach mindlessly inched a bit closer, but that caused her to slip on her wet socks and fall forward. She pulled her hand out of her pants to try to catch herself, but she fell through the door, her head hitting the sink and landing hard on the floor with a loud THUMP! “OW!” She yelled, which was followed by a familiar voice exclaiming, “Peach!” The shower door slammed open and David rushed out and went to Peach. “Are you okay?” Peach got up and rubbed where she hit her head, groaning and squeezing her eyes closed to keep tears from coming out. David took her wrist to look at the spot she was rubbing, and he said, “Mierda. That's gonna leave a mark. Hm, doesn’t look like anything but a bruise.” Peach then opened her eyes and raised her head, seeing that David was in front of her, kneeling down, completely naked.

She was caught.

As a heavy blush grew on her face, she quickly stood up straight and said all in one breath, “I’msosorryimeanttoleaveyourmailherebutigotdistractedandsawyoulikethisireallyshouldstoptalkingokayi’mgonnagonowlet’spretendthisneverhappenedandpretendiwasneverhereBYE!!” She quickly turned and started to bolt. “Hold it, mirona.” Dave grabbed her, wrapped his arms around her, and pinned her back to his chest, preventing any means of escape. Peach froze, shut her eyes tight, and silently prepared for death, but he didn’t say a word. She noticed that he wasn’t doing anything. His grip wasn't that tight either, just holding her close, like...he was hugging her. The silence was torturing Peach, but all she could say was, “P...P...Please don’t be mad...” “I’m not mad, Peach.” This caused her to open her eyes and ask, “Y..You’re not?” “No, I’m not. It’s just you. We’re friends, remember?”

Those words felt like a stab in the chest to her. She didn’t even hear him say, “I’m just glad you’re okay.” All she could focus on was the word ‘friend’. She dreaded hearing that word come from his mouth when he referred to her. That word meant that she would never mean anything more to him than that, just a friend. She felt her heart shatter in her chest as tears started flowing down her face. She tried to hold her cries in, but a few sniffles escaped, drawing David’s attention. “Are you crying?” “No..” “Don't lie to me. Listen to yourself. You’re crying. Why?” She yanked herself away from his hold and just stood there, her hands gripping onto her drenched pants. “Not like you’d care...” “Of course I'd care. I told you, we’re friends.” “Yeah.....just friends....only friends...” “The hell’s that supposed to mean? You got a problem with that?” “No..it’s just...” Peach couldn’t finish the sentence as more tears fell from her eyes, causing her to rub her eyes with her sleeve, but the rain water along with more tears got her face wet again.

After that, David put a towel around him, and grabbed her arm. “Come on, you’re soaked. We gotta get those off of ya before ya get sick.” Peach was confused as he turned her around to face him and started wiping her tears away. “And quit crying. I hate when you do that.” Before she could react, he pulled her out of the bathroom and towards the living area, throwing her onto the couch and pulling her shirt off. He was like a parent getting their kid's muddy clothes off, focused on the task at hand and not even saying a word. “H-Hey! W-What are you doi-? Hold it-!” was all Peach could say, but David had the upper hand, pulling her pants down and off her ankles, throwing them to the side. She was left in her bra and panties, but they ended up soaked too, so he started pulling them off. “Whoa, wait a min-! Wha-?!” When he took the panties off, he saw the pink winged heart tattoo on her belly and commented, “Cute tattoo you got there.” That left Peach blushing and frozen in shyness that she didn’t even realize that she was completely nude. After that, he grabbed her arm and brought her to the counter top, brushing the mail off it and onto the floor, then lifting Peach up to sit on the counter top in front of him. She tried to escape, but he put himself between her legs and held her arms down, preventing any escape.

“Let me go!” “Not until you tell me what's going on with you.” Peach still struggled to get out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t budge. Peach started to cry again, pleading, “Please don’t make me do this...” “And what’s with the crying? You’re not hurt that bad, are you? Did something happen?” Peach kept crying, clearly scared of being put in this position. David sighed and said calmly, “Hey, hey.” He put his hand on her cheek, lifting it up to look at him, and wiping a tear away with his thumb. She saw that he had a softer expression on his face. “I said, I’m not mad at you. You're starting to make me worry. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Peach knew that there was no choice: She had to come clean. She put her head down and said demurely, “You called me your friend...” “Yeah, so? You don’t wanna be?” “It's not like that, it’s just that...I....I...” She then rested her head on his chest, eyes all out of tears, and said, “I love you... I’ve felt this way for a long time...I...I want to be more than friends with you...but when you called me your friend, it solidified my place in your life, as nothing more than a friend. That’s why I was crying...” While she did feel better having that off her chest, she was mentally preparing herself for rejection, emotionally shutting herself down.

David put a hand on top of her head, saying, “You know how long I’ve been waiting for you to tell me that?”

Peach came back from her shutdown mode and raised her head, asking, “What..?” David looked at her and said, “A month. I’ve been waiting for a whole damn month. Took you long enough.” “What do you mean..?” He groaned and said, “Cabrona.”

He pulled her head towards him and their lips met.

Peach was blindsided by this. Was she dreaming? She had to have been. There’s no way that Dave could be kissing her right now. But the feeling of his lips on hers and his tongue roaming her mouth made her realize she wasn’t dreaming. This was real.

She put her arms around him and kissed him back, small moans escaping her mouth and entering his. This caused him to put both his hands on her hips and pull her closer to him, her crotch grinding against the towel, his fingers slightly digging into her skin. He broke the kiss, their breaths hot and heavy, and said, “I think I know why you spied on me.” “You do..?” It was then that he dropped the towel entirely, revealing that his cock was rock hard. He gripped the base and let his cock rest on Peach’s groin and belly, the tip reaching her tattoo. “You just wanted this, didn’t you?” He asked softly, a smirk on his face.

Peach’s face grew hot and she could feel her heart race, along with her lower half tensing up and her pussy starting to twitch. His cock felt so hot against her cool body, and she could feel the metal from the Jacob’s Ladder pressing onto her skin. She felt shy about it, having to turn away before saying, ”..Probably..” He put his lips against her neck and brought his hand up to grope one of her breasts, causing her to gasp softly from the sudden warmth. “If you wanted me to fuck you, you could’ve just asked, babe. Didn’t have to cry about it.” “I..wanted to...but I didn’t think you’d feel the same way...” “And this is what you get for assuming.” He then started to pinch and pull on her hardened nipple, causing her to whimper. Her nipples were very sensitive, so this caused shocks of pain to shoot through her breast. “Ah! I..I’m sorry! Please..I..I want..” “You want what, babe? I might just give it to you.” he asked with his lips brushing against her neck as he started kneading her nipple. “I...I want you...Please....please fuck me..” “Can do.”

He let go of her nipple and brought her face back to his, kissing her deep as he put his hands on her ass, holding her close and lifting her up, taking her to the bedroom and laying her on the bed. Once he was on top of her, his hands started roaming her entire body as he started to kiss down her neck and collarbone. Peach’s body felt like it was on fire with each touch from David. Each moan David heard from her drove him insane to the point of wanting to just stick it in her already, but he knew he had to slow down for her sake. His mouth and hands soon reached her breasts, as he licked and sucked and gently bit on one nipple, while kneading and pinching the other. Peach could feel the gap in his teeth graze along her sensitive nipple. Soon, he started to kiss down her belly and above her groin until he lifted her hips to bring her pussy up closer. He marveled at how completely smooth she kept the area, almost like she shaved it just for him.

He chuckled as he said, "Damn babe, you're soaked." Peach got shy and said, "Please..D..Don't stare so much.." "Alright, I'll do this instead." He then gave her pussy a slow gentle lick to get a taste of her, making her let out a shuddering gasp. He realized that she tasted very sweet, like a fruit that he couldn't pin down the name of. All he knew was that he loved it and wanted more. He put his mouth over her pussy and started licking as much as he could, causing Peach to moan and squirm a bit. "Ahh! D-David, not there! I'm-! Hahh! David, I want you now!!" David just kept at it, his tongue deep in her cavern, getting as much of her juice as he could. There was so much of it, that it started to drip from his chin. He then lifted his face away, a small string of juice connecting her pussy and his mouth for a brief moment.

He climbed up so he was looking her in the eyes and said, "You really live up to your name, durazno." Peach blushed red and had to look away because she was too shy. "I’m not that good...” “Of course you are. You're irresistible, babe." Peach turned to face him, but was met with him kissing her deeply. She kissed him back, moaning as he soon reached his hand down and slid two fingers into her pussy, moving them in and out. After a bit, he broke the kiss and asked, "You like your taste?" He brought his soaked fingers up to his face and Peach could only watch as he put them into his mouth to clean them, one by one.

After that, he pulled back and grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the length against her lower lips, the piercing brushing against her clit and the tip dribbling pre-cum. Peach couldn't help but ask, "D..David...d..doesn't that hurt..?" He figured out she was referring to the piercing rubbing on her and he smiled. He found it so sweet that she was worried about him. "No, it feels amazing. Here, I'll show you." With that, he started to push the head against her opening until it broke through and his cock slid in with ease, causing Peach to moan out. David bit his lip as he bottomed out, loving how tight she felt. "Ahh fuck.." he whispered.

Peach was grabbing the sheets tightly, her body riddled with pleasure. David then started to move slowly, causing Peach to moan softly. He really wanted to start pounding her, but he wanted this to last as long as possible, just enjoying the feeling of Peach's walls gripping onto his cock. He bent down to face Peach and he asked, "How's it feel, baby girl..? Does it feel good..?" Peach responded, "Y..Yes..it..it feels so good..ohh god.." Peach reached out and hugged David, his head over her shoulder and her hand on the back of his head, fingers going through his hair. "More...please...fuck me more..." she said softly. It didn't take long for him to oblige, increasing his speed. As he listened to Peach's moans for him, he wondered why in the hell he waited so long for this. He should've just asked her out first so they could've done this sooner.

He then held Peach and sat up, letting her sit in his lap, which caused her to bring her head back and moan as his cock hit a spot deep inside. She instantly started to move her hips and ride him, which made David smile. He must've turned her on something fierce, he thought. "Tell me how you're feeling, doll," he whispered in her ear. "I..it's in so deep...s..so big...I..I can hardly think anymore..!" "No need to, mi alma. Just let go and let me make you feel good." He laid her back down and grabbed her hips, controlling how deep and how hard he went. He couldn't help but say, "mmm..that's it..take it, take it all...ah, fuck yeah..."

Both of them were in pure bliss as it went on. At one point, David had Peach in his lap, facing away from him and he held her breasts as she rode him, the piercing rubbing against spots Peach didn't even know she had. "You're clamping onto me so tight...glad to see my little plan got you so hot.." "P..plan..?" "Oh yeah..I had the whole thing set up. The unlocked door, the bathroom door being open, it was all just to pull you in..did you like the show?" He pinched on one of her nipples to get a response. "Y..yes..! I..I did!" "Yeah, I could tell..I could see you the whole time..how about next time, you just come in and join me? Would you like that? Yeah?" "Y..Yes..! I..I'd love it..! I..I'm gonna cum..!" "Okay, I'll let you cum. But on one condition. From now on, you'll be mine. Anytime you want me, just ask and I'll fuck that little pussy of yours into oblivion." "O..Okay! I'll be yours! Just please let me cum..! I want you to cum in me..!" "Okay, princesa."

He then reached down and rubbed Peach's clit, which drove her over the edge and caused an earth-shattering orgasm. As her orgasm crashed over her, she could feel David's hot cum fill her up. Once they both finished, he laid her down and marveled at the mess they made until he flopped next to her, both of them panting from exhaustion. After a minute, they looked at each other, smiled, and held hands, letting the afterglow set in. Peach let out a breathy, "I love you." "I love you too," he said. After the whole ride, they were left with sweat all over their bodies and strands of cum where they were connected.

Guess another shower was in order.

~~~♡♡♡~~~

#fnaf oc #oc smut #oc x oc #oc x oc ship #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach

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wastelandcth · 3 years

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Better Love - cth

part four: a darker blue

summary: The rain stops.

author’s notes: I've loved writing this story and I hope you have all enjoyed reading it!

warnings: mentions of sexual themes.

masterlist || request || join my taglist!

part one || part two || part three

And I've never loved a darker blue Than the darkness I have known in you, own from you You, whose heart would sing of anarchy You would laugh at meanings, guarantees, so beautifully

Calum was running. His legs carried him through the overgrown forest and over fallen trees. The wind around him bit at his skin, leaving him gasping for air until all he could feel was the burn in his lungs, one that was different than the burn the cigarettes he smoked gave him. Behind him, the footsteps were getting closer and closer, never stumbling like Calum had. In his arms, the beating heart pumped, racing and then slowing in random increments that left Calum's blood running cold. He hadn't remembered the way back to the cottage, the thick forest trapping him in and spitting him out somewhere unknown. The lighthouse had been the only thing high enough above the trees that Calum could see, his legs burning as he ran closer and closer towards it. Somewhere behind the wind, the ocean waves crashed into the coast and shook the world beneath him, making him stumble whenever a particularly large wave hit.

He was alone and running from something he couldn't see.

As Calum ran, the forest disappeared behind him and all that was in front of him was rolling hills of green. The footsteps behind him had stopped and Calum leaned over himself to catch his breath, the cold air burning his throat as he tried to listen for anything or anyone else. Stepping towards the hills, where the ocean roared right below, Calum's eyes watched the lighthouse in awe. The light illuminated the world around him in glimpses, making its round across the landscape to warn ships that would never come of the land. The father Calum got from the edge of the forest, the darker the sky became, leaving him to wait until the spinning light was cast his way in order to take the steps up the rocky hillside.

"Calum?" a voice said behind him, echoing through his body as rocking the Earth much like the dark blue waves beneath him.

Calum turned sharply, his eyes scanning the forest at the bottom of the hill, searching for that voice in the darkness. The whirl of the lighthouse, which got louder and louder with every pass of the light, made Calum dizzy. His head hurt with every pass of the bright light, but he kept searching until his eyes finally landed on her. The wind had whipped her hair across her face, her clothes soaked with mud and leaves that left her shivering at the edge of the forest. Calum wondered if she had been chased her too, how she had managed to outrun something that Calum barely did.

"Maeve?" he called out, his voice lost in the wind and the waves, the sleeves of his sweater ripped to shreds by the trees behind her, "Come on! It's safe in the lighthouse, we have to get there!"

"I-I can't! I have to go back to the cabin!" she sighed, Calum's ears aching at the pain in her voice, "I can't go with you! I have to stay there!"

Calum frowned, watching as Maeve turned back around and ventured deeper into the forest. His body ached, his escape making his legs burn and his joints ache front he cold, but he took another glance at the lighthouse. One last look at the promised safety before he rushed down the hill and headed towards the woods once more, calling out Maeve's name.

Calum woke with a start, his lungs aching for a breath of fresh air as his eyes looked around at the dark room, trying to gain a sense as to where he was. The bed under him was soft, the mattress pillowy and not at all like his hard mattress back home. Next to him, Maeve's soft voice was slow and even Calum's mind too panicked to listen to the words she was whispered. But the softness of her skin against Calum's was what truly made his mind wake up and made his eyes meet hers in the darkness. He was sure he looked like an animal caught in the middle of a dark road, his face illuminated only by the sliver of light coming in through the blinds of the window. But Maeve's voice brought him back down, brought his breathing into a steady rise and fall of his chest until his forehead was leaning against hers.

"Hey, I'm right here," Maeve whispered, one hand cupping the side of his face as the other was placed over his heart, feeling the pounding of it against her palm, "You're okay." Calum's lips found hers in the dark, the soft sigh that left him as their lips connected making him forget for a second all about the lighthouse and the forest.

Maeve was on his lap, their bodies moving in a slow and lazy rhythm before Calum would even remember the dream. He was lost in the way her body curved into him, how her back arched back into the palm that was keeping her steady. The bed was squeaking with every move of their hips, hidden under the groan and soft grunts leaving them both as they melted into one another. With his eyes adjusted to the dark room, Calum could see how Maeve's face twisted in pleasure, her nose scrunched up and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Calum was sure his own face looked pretty similar, his grip of Maeve's waist tightening when he felt her clench around him, the waves of pleasure rolling off of her as she got closer and closer. Calum's hand, which had been shaking in fear only a few minutes before moved between their bodies, his thumb running through the hair at her mound before moving lower and finding the bundle of nerves that had made Maeve gasped and whimper the night before.

"Come on, pretty girl," Calum breathed out, his thighs tensing underneath Maeve as he rocked up into her, "Let go for me,"

And Calum had never heard such a pretty noise like the one’s Maeve made.

"Choose life?" Maeve whispered into the darkness, her fingers slotting in between Calum's.

"Mhm," Calum breathed out, his eyes unfocused in the darkness of the walls and the bouncing of their voices, his mind still reeling from the high she'd brought him, "From the movie Trainspotting."

Maeve's shifted, moving onto her side as she rested her head on Calum's chest, her fingers tracing over the words against his skin again and again as she listened to Calum whispered about the movie and how it had changed his outlook on life. She felt the goosebumps under her touch, could feel the blush that ran down from his face to his chest. Her lips had been leaving trails of kisses on his skin, her smile pressing against his skin whenever Calum's voice stuttered from the kisses left on his skin. They'd been lying there for what could have been hours, in Maeve's mind, both enjoying the afterglow of being together in more ways than one.

"I like it," she whispered, placing a soft kiss over the peak of his nipple, "Always question the world, huh?"

"Always." he breathed out, his hands exploring the softness of Maeve's curves.

Maeve had decided that the Scottish air was infused with magic. Every day, she’d try and spend as much time outside as she could. In the beginning, it had been to give Calum some alone time; but after their eventful night and early morning, Maeve has needed the fresh air to clear her mind and stretch out her sore limbs. Her walks in the forest had been a lifesaver in the beginning too, they gave her peace and quiet and a sense of calm that hadn’t been around since the crack of a bridge had forced her to lodge with a stranger. Well, not so much a stranger anymore.

“Or is he?” Maeve thought to herself, a frown on her face as she leaned against a tree to tighten her shoelaces, “All you two do is talk and get to know one another, Maeve, you’re not so naïve to sleep with a stranger!”

In the short time that she knew Calum, she had found a lot of herself in him. She didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, but that hadn’t mattered last night or this morning when she woke up wrapped in his arms. She knew that Calum had a passion for learning and exploring, much like she did. She knew that Calum had been in a different situation than her, relationship-wise, but that hadn’t meant he was broken. If she was being honest with herself, Calum had been in the exact opposite of her situation. She wondered if he knew that too, if he resented the fact that she could leave someone so easily and not be affected by it or if he sympathized with her. Maeve felt the pain in his voice that night when Calum spoke about his ex-fiancé like she was the stars and the moon before the supernova wiped them out of his universe. She knew that he had loved her and he wanted a life with her, even if he had rushed into things.

She knew Calum just wanted to feel a love that would never be there.

The sun had filtered in through the brightly colored leaves, the kaleidoscope it made on the ground below Maeve leading her back from the depths of the forest to the cabin where the man who had made her see stars just hours ago had been when she left only an hour before. She had wondered for a long period of her life whether she was broken or not. Whether her heart was defective and unable to love since it had seemed like she was never able to love her past partners. But last night with Calum, under the safety of a dark cabin, she had felt her heart race and her mind go numb to anything but the thought of him. Maybe she’d been alone for too long, Calum’s soft touch and grunts in her ear stirred something inside of her, or maybe it meant more.

Maybe Calum had become something more.

"Do you think you'll stay in Scotland longer?" Maeve asked as she walked into the kitchen.

Calum was stood by the small window, watching the sway of the trees, a cup of tea in his hands keeping him warm. He'd been lost in his head again much like he did nowadays, the worry of heading back home to deal with his problems instead of running away pressing against his temple. Maeve’s soft voice had drawn in his attention back into the moment, his body turning towards her, pulled by the softness of her presence and how hours ago that same soft voice had thrown him over the edge. Since he’d watched her walk out of bed, dressed in only the shirt she’d thrown off of him, he hadn’t gotten the image of her out of his head. How the sliver of moonlight had shown him sneak peeks of her body; the shade of red her chest had turned from Calum’s lips, the darkness that the hair on her mound had been. He’d been thinking of her ever since she walked out of the bathroom past him in a dark blue sweater, her boots leading her outside before Calum was once again left in the dark and silence of the cottage.

“My flight leaves in two days,” he said quietly, setting the cup of tea down, “If we’re ever rescued,” he teased.

“I’m sure we will be,” Maeve laughed quietly, “I’ll jump from tree to tree if I have to. There’s no way I’m missing this interview.”

“They’d hire you anyway,” Calum chuckled and shrugged, his eyes meeting hers, “They’d be foolish not to.”

The afternoon sun beamed down on both Maeve and Calum, leaving them warm and energized. The hike, which Calum had forced Maeve out of the cottage for, had taken place on their last day alone. Maeve had brought a blanket, making Calum carry it in his backpack which was also packed with snacks, water, and a camera that Calum had insisted was necessary. They'd walked next to one another, their hands grazing one another every once in a while. Calum's eyes were focused on the trail, knowing that no matter how far they walked, their way back to civilization grew farther and farther away. Eventually, his focus turned from the panic of being alone again and the reminder of his dream to the way Maeve's warm hand wrapped around his. He looked down, where their hands were joined and swinging with every step they took, his heart jumping at how right it all felt. "Is this okay?" Maeve asked quietly, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth.

"Of course," he whispered and nodded, giving her hand a small squeeze as he continued on through their walk.

When the grassy field came into view Calum had unfolded the blanket and set down the backpack, sighing at the relief his back felt when the heavy bag was no longer straining his muscles. The field was surrounded by trees, leaves scattered around them as the sunshine warmed the air. They'd sat in comfortable silence, listening to the songs that the forest would play for them. In the daylight, where the trees, birds, and river could see them, the distance between Maeve and Calum grew until they were nothing more than strangers again. They would drift off into their own minds, stuck in the waves of anxiety and tension that came from sleeping with a stranger. But that afternoon, their last afternoon, things were different. The sunlight brought soft touches and laughter that floated into the leaves above them. Calum's lips were puffy from the soft kisses that Maeve would leave every time she giggled at something he would say.

"I'm going to miss this," Maeve whispered at one point, her eyes focused on passing clouds, "I don't think I've ever felt this carefree before."

"Me too, I didn't think my trip to Scotland would've ever ended up like this," Calum mumbled, his own eyes watching the clouds swim across the sky, "I'm jealous you get to stay here."

"Do you think we'll see each other again?" she asked softly.

"I think the universe trapped us in a cottage together for a reason, no?" Calum asked and chuckled softly, his head lifting up to look over at Maeve.

"It seems that there is no theory for which to explain a moment like this," Maeve whispered and smiled as she watched Calum lean in closer to her, "I'm going to miss you."

Their last morning together, was one they hadn’t even realized would be their last.

In the morning, when the sun hit both Calum and Maeve, the bedroom was quiet. Calum's chest was rising and falling, the soft snores that usually left him hidden by Maeve's shoulder. The wind had no longer whistled against the cottage, the last of the raindrops from the night's storm falling down with a drip, drip, drip. The birds outside were singing, cheering as if they knew the bad weather had passed and the final storm, an encore complete with thunder and lightning, had come and gone. Calum's eyes opened slowly, his hands pulling the warm body next to him closer. His body leaned closer to hers, the warmth between their bare bodies a reminder of the night before where they both held one another as their moans were whispered in between kisses.

Calum had been stroking her skin, lost in the softness of her and the way his heart ached knowing that his life would never be the same as it was in that moment when he heard the familiar accent of Mrs. Bagby. His body tensed, his arms reaching out to pull the curtain back, flooding the room with light and being met with Mrs. Bagby, who was waving from the other end of the broken bridge. Calum's wide eyes and shaky hands had forced him to pull the curtains closed, his body moving on its own as he grabbed his sweatpants and sweater, before rushing out of the cabin. His shoes were covered in mud as he jogged over to the bridge, his breath hitching as he watched the roaring water splash against the rocks below him.

"Mr. Hood! Oh no, this is horrible, are you and the girl okay?!" Mrs. Bagby called out, "When did this happen?!"

"The day I walked out here! We couldn't contact anyone! The power hasn't worked since that storm blew over!" Calum yelled, watching as the older lady’s face turned into confusion.

"Storm? Darling, there hasn't been a storm here since before you arrived," she said with a shake of her head.

Calum frowned, standing at the edge of the broken bridge, his eyes searching the older woman for any hint of a joke. But Calum was met with a worried look that made his blood run cold. He'd clearly remembered the rainstorm, remembered hearing the tumbling of the bridge and how Maeve had gasped from the room next to the kitchen. He remembered walking out that next morning and standing where he was now, trying to figure out how he was meant to spend the night with a stranger who had taken his breath away.

"Calum?" Maeve asked quietly, her voice still laced with sleep as she stood by the door. She was wrapped in a blanket, her hair a curly mess around her head as she looked at Calum confused, "What's going on?"

"I'm going to get help! You two pack your bags!" the older lady called out, the engine of her car rumbling through the forest as she disappeared down the road.

And then they were alone.

Maeve had been quiet, packing clothes and memories of a day she couldn't help but think would be the last remnants of Calum she would have. Calum, who was sat on the couch, had packed his bag and sat in silence wondering whether he was ready to leave the cabin behind. Whether he was ready to leave Maeve and the safety of the dark powerless cabin. The past couple of days had been a whirlwind, they had been tiring and filled with silence. But Calum had loved nothing more than spending time with Maeve and learning about her in those moments when the silence was broken. He'd never met anyone like Maeve before, she was open and willing to tell Calum her story with no hesitation and yet, Calum found himself wanting to know more and more about the woman in the bedroom next to him. But the sound of a car across the river brought him back to reality. Brought him back to the fact that he had to go back to a sunny city where his life had been. A city where every street reminded him of the fact that he was alone and where the only trees he could see were palm trees. He'd be back in a city where his friends tiptoed around him and the way his heart had been broken.

Maeve had been outside, sitting on a stone that had looked more comfortable than Calum assumed actually was, staring up at the sky. The sunlight had illuminated her, leaving her skin a soft golden color that looked breathtaking in the dark sweater she'd slid on after Calum had taken it out of his bag and handed it to her on the car ride back to civilization. The car ride, which had consisted of Mrs. Bagby, or Baird he still didn't quite know, apologizing profusely for all the confusion and for leaving them trapped in the forest. Maeve had been focused on the passing trees and the way the river was no longer a constant noise in her ears. But when the rolling hills of the Highlands came into view, Calum felt the ache in his heart, knowing that their little universe was far away and no longer just theirs. The sweater engulfed Maeve, leaving her protected against the bitter wind that nipped at her skin even through the sunlight. Her bags had been sat at her side, like two piles of rocks ready to float away and leave Calum stranded.

“You’re going to do amazing,” Calum mumbled as he walked over to her, “They’re not even going to know what hit them.”

“Thank you,” Maeve whispered, her head turning up to look up at him, “I hope you have a safe flight back, take lots of pictures of the ocean.”

“And you take lots of pictures of those hills for me?” Calum smiled, the flash of his teeth disappearing as the car that would take him away from the woman, and the country, he’d fallen in love with, “It was nice meeting you, Maeve.”

“It was nice meeting you, Calum,” she nodded, her arms wrapping around his waist as they both hugged, hoping that maybe the world would bring them back together again.

The sky outside of the forest had been a bright blue, the white clouds puffy and soft as they floated towards one another before separating and going their own way. Some clouds would find their way across the world, seeing bright cities and vast oceans. Others would find a patch of weather that filled them with so much water, eventually draining themselves until all they became were a forgotten memory. They would change from the white and puffy clouds above to the dark grey and condensation-filled rain clouds that hid the dark blue sky. It was unfair, Maeve thought to herself, how such an aching moment in her life had been on such a beautiful day. How the man who had unknowingly changed her life in a matter of days had left on such a beautiful and sunny day. Maeve’s eyes focused on the black car, watching as it drove down the same dirt road she’d traveled on a few days before taking a turn and disappearing from view.

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reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

beneath the moon. (sokka x f!reader) pt7

hi and welcome to another chapter!!! thank u very much for reading :D i hope u enjoyed the last one as much as i did!! this chapter is a little shorter than the rest, but i had to get through it to be able to get to the good stuff :)

pt1

pt6

pt8

(Y/N) rocked back and forth on her feet with the motion of the waves. She had been on many boats before, but none so far out at sea. The air was crisp and salty and the sea spray that splashed up made her face feel sticky. This could be another kind of life that she would enjoy, she thought. There was something about the ocean that seemed so freeing to her. She wondered if all waterbenders felt that way.

She watched as they floated past massive icebergs three times as tall as their ship. She had learned once that icebergs were even bigger on the underside, like massive mountains, but she didn’t exactly want to find out for herself.

After Hahn’s visit to the palace, more suitors started lining up outside of the heavy wooden doors. She figured that they thought with Hahn out of the way, they might actually have a shot at getting within the Chief’s good graces. She had refused each and every one of them and provided no explanation why. Some accepted defeat gracefully, while others tried their best to argue with her. And despite living in the coldest place on earth, (Y/N) was extremely hotheaded. She shot back at their arguments with arguments of her own, daring each man that fought to challenge her to an actual duel. This had caused rumors to float around the city about her.

In her healing lessons, she heard girls whispering about how cold-hearted the princess must be to turn down so many sweet boys. The servants talked about her when she wasn’t near and wondered how a sweet girl like Yue could ever have such a disagreeable sister as (Y/N). The idea of staying in a tribe that would never fully accept her struck fear into every inch of her body. It was in everyone’s best interest that she left.

So when Sokka had approached her after her healing lessons one day and informed her that she needed to pack because they would be leaving the very next morning, (Y/N) had not hesitated. She gathered a pack of all of her most important items, like clothes, shoes, brushes, and money. She had thought about packing her paint supplies, but she figured they would be too heavy to carry from city to city. She wrapped them gently in a cloth scarf and slid them underneath her bed. Maybe one day she would visit her parents and be able to take them with her.

During the night, when the moon was high, she quietly made her way to Yue’s room to look through it. She took only three things: Yue’s fluffiest purple coat, the portrait (Y/N) had given to her on her birthday, and the small wooden fish that Sokka had carved for her. She had seen it many times, lying on Yue’s dresser, and figured that he might want it back. She had shoved each of these things deep into her pack so they wouldn’t fall out.

(Y/N) had spent the remainder of the night lying in wait for the sun to rise over the horizon. She only had a few moments to escape the palace before the servants awoke, so she had padded through the icy halls and made her way to her parents’ room. They both slept soundly as the sun barely filtered in through the windows. She kissed the both of them on their foreheads and left her goodbye note on their dresser. Then, as quietly as she could, she had crawled out of the lowest windows of the palace and fell on her back into the snow. She had held in her groan of pain and instead ran directly for the docks to wait for the others.

Now, she stood on Master Pakku’s ship as it headed for the Southern Water Tribe. Aang prepared Appa for their impending flight, while both Sokka and Katara gave Pakku a list of things to share with their grandmother. (Y/N) leaned over the edge of the railing and watched the waves as they crashed against the boat. She waterbended a small sliver of ocean water up so that it could just barely touch her fingers and smiled at its coolness.

“Are you ready?” Katara asked as she appeared at her side. (Y/N) nodded and picked up her bag from the ground. She gave Master Pakku a curt nod.

“Wait, Princess,” He called to her. She turned to face him.

“It’s just (Y/N) now.” Pakku nodded.

“Your father told me to give you this.” He placed a light blue velvet bag in her hands. When she opened it, she found more gold, silver, and copper pieces than she had ever seen in her lifetime. (Y/N) looked up at Pakku, her eyes wide with shock.

“He knew I’d be leaving?”

“I think he always knew you would leave, one day,” Pakku said with a small smile. (Y/N) swallowed and slipped the bag into her pocket.

“Thank you,” she said. She walked over to her friends, where Katara helped her onto Appa’s saddle. As soon as everyone was seated, Aang shouted, “Yip yip,” and Appa soared into the air. (Y/N) watched as the only place she had ever known shrunk further and further into the horizon. For the first time since her sister had died, she felt happy.

---

There were a lot of things she had never done, and setting up tents to sleep on the cool, hard ground was near the top of that list. But she had been asked by Katara to set up their tents and she wasn’t going to refuse! She was part of a team now, so she had to do her fair share of the work. How hard could setting up tents be?

As it turned out, very hard. Just as she had set up one tent and moved onto the next, the first tent would collapse behind her. After an hour, she thought she had successfully set up four tents, only to watch them crumble to the ground. (Y/N) felt like she could nearly tear her hair out from frustration.

How could she be a part of this team if she couldn’t even put up a tent? She felt absolutely useless. Maybe coming with the Avatar and his friends hadn’t been a good idea after all. She wasn’t properly equipped for life outside of the North Pole, and it was so hot! She had never felt heat like this before and it was nearly unbearable! She wasn’t sure how Sokka and Katara put up with it!

Aang walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Here, let me help!”

(Y/N) gave him a small smile of gratefulness as he showed her how to set up the tents. “It was tricky at first for me, too,” Aang reassured her as he dug the poles into the ground. “But it’s all about making sure you have a good foundation. Here, try on that one.”

(Y/N) walked over to the other tent and tried her best to replicate Aang’s movement. The pole successfully went into the ground, and she smiled up at Aang. “Thank you!” She said excitedly.

“No problem! We can split the rest of the work.” The two swiftly set up the tents and (Y/N) clasped her hands together, smiling proudly at the tents. It was a small and ridiculous thing to be proud of, but she had never accomplished anything like this at home.

She helped Katara catch fish for dinner by waterbending them from the river and into the basket. (Y/N) watched intensely as Katara cooked stew for them. She had always had servants in the palace to make her food for her, so she was intrigued at the mix of herbs and spices Katara was putting into her concoction. By the time it had finished cooking, it smelled lovely, and (Y/N’s) stomach rumbled from starvation.

She devoured her dinner as they sat around the campfire and discussed their plans for tomorrow. “We’re heading to the Earth Kingdom,” Sokka explained. “There, we’ll be escorted to King Bumi, who will teach Aang earthbending.”

“You’re going to love Bumi,” Aang said to (Y/N).

“I’m not so sure,” Katara interjected. “Bumi is...a lot.”

“He encased Katara and I into rocks the last time we saw him.” Sokka scooped a spoonful of stew into his mouth. (Y/N’s) eyes widened in shock and she looked frantically at Aang.

“It was rock candy,” Aang said, as if that made the situation any better. (Y/N) looked back down at her stew.

“Maybe I regret coming with you guys just a little bit,” She said, and while she wasn’t necessarily trying to be funny, the rest of her team laughed.

---

Tag List!

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rohad93 · 4 years

Text

Moonlit Masquerade: ch 12

I changed my mind about posting today

~ ~ ~

When they walk back inside they’re not sure what has happened exactly. Most the party goers have returned to the dance floor or the refreshment area, but quite a few have huddled along the walls, hiding or wailing in despair.

“What happened?” Luz blinks, looking around.

“I don’t even want to know.” Amity shakes her head as they walk around the room, maneuvering between other guests before coming face to face with Edric and Emira.

"Hey, Mittens, we didn't see you during the game." Edric crossed his arms and pouted at her.

"Yeah, it was a lot of fun," Emira says.

Looking around at the sorry state of some of the guests, Amity can't help but disagree without even knowing what went on here.

"We were on the back porch." Amity chooses to answer her brother's unasked question.

"Who's your friend?" He asks, grinning at her companion.

Amity almost snorts at the question.

"I've been wondering that myself all evening." She smirks and Luz grins back at her.

"Oh, your secret admirer…" Emira grins, leaning forward.

"Her what?" Edric's brows canter upward over the top of his mask at that.

"Well, you'll know before too long now." Emira points up at the glass ceiling overhead. The moon is almost in position directly overhead, it's bright light is filling the room.

"We better go mingle before then." Edric jerks his head and Emira nods.

"Have fun you two!" Emira wiggles her fingers at the two as they pass by. "And Good luck." The older Blight girl is looking directly at Luz as she says this.

Perhaps the older teen hadn't recognized her when she came in but Luz knew without a doubt that she now knew who she was.

Amity looked between the two with narrowed eyes.

She was missing something and she knew it all hinged on the identity of the girl beside her. It was like she had all the edge pieces of a puzzle fit together but no picture to reference. She had the frame, but she couldn't see the big picture.

It was aggravating, in a word.

The older Blight children disappear into the crowd, leaving them alone and a slow song begins to play.

"Well, if it's all going to be over soon we might as well enjoy it." Luz holds out a hand. "I won't let you fall this time either." She's smiling playfully and Amity can't help but roll her eyes even as she slides her hand into hers.

"I'll hold you to that."

Luz tugs them out onto the floor, but this time she sets both her hands on Amity's waist as she brings hers to rest on her shoulder.

They move much slower this time, but still in rhythm to the soft, lilting music that fills the room.

They're both a little nervous now.

The two times they'd danced before were fast and there wasn't a lot of time to over analyze every little thing, especially fighting a fear demon, now there is, and Luz agonizes over whether or not her hands are in the right place, should she be closer, farther away?

Lilith had offered to give her lessons on slower dances but it had just felt too weird to her. Now she wished she'd just sucked it up and agreed.

Amity is calmer after the first minute of swaying. The hands on her waist are firm but not tight and she takes a certain comfort in it, their weight grounds her, especially as the song plays on, and slowly, but surely they relax. Luz's hands slide to wrap around the small of Amity's back as her arms wrap around her mysterious date's neck, eventually her head is resting on her shoulder and Amity feels at ease, shuffling across the floor, less of a dance and more a slow moving embrace.

Luz, for her part, leans her head gently against Amity’s, resting weightless on her shoulder. The bright moonlight is filling the room but there's not a sliver of it shining between the two of them.

That song ends but neither seem to notice and dance on through the next two songs as well.

Luz doesn’t know what perfume Amity wears, but it’s light, sweet and fills her senses to the point it might be making her dizzy, but she doesn’t let go; she never would if she could. Amity is hot to the touch and Luz leans into the warmth, trying to absorb as much of it as possible; like a moth to a flame. She wants nothing more than to hold her like this forever if only she would allow it.

Amity’s eyes closed some time ago. Her partner's hold is firm but gentle, almost lulling her to sleep in her secure embrace. She is soft, warm and her nose is practically buried in her partner's neck. We're she more coherent she'd be mortified at the intimate proximity, she's never been this close to anyone before, but everything save quiet, warm fuzziness has become background noise in her mind.

She inhales deeply and breathes a whisper of a sigh against her neck. She smells pleasantly earthy, like grass and a warm summer breeze. The saccharine thought makes her feel silly, but she doesn't try to push it away She hums in contentment; she smells just like Luz.

Amity’s eyes pop open at the thought, her insides turn cold and her stomach drops to her feet as guilt claws at her, washing away all the warmth as though it had never been; replaced by cold dread.

The song ends and Luz reluctantly removes herself from Amity’s arms, she's so wrapped up in the warmth and overwhelming affection she feels that she doesn't notice how stiff the other girl has gone as they move off the dance floor.

The music has stopped and the twins have returned in a flash of light and smoke to the center of the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, the moon is directly overhead and that means it’s time to remove your masks and reveal yourselves!” Edric throws up his hands as several party guests remove their glimmered masks and begin chatting excitedly as they recognize each other.

“Thank you to everyone in attendance tonight.” Emira finished and the two bowed to the guests, though this time they elect to simply walk toward the front door. Luz can only assume to see the guests off as they exit. For now there is still excited chatter all around them.

It's now or never, Luz decides as they stand on the side of the dance floor as people remove their masks and reveal themselves to each other under the bright light of the blue moon.

She clears her throat and Amity turns to look at her, brought out of her internal crisis.

"So, do you think… we could see each other again?" she asks hopefully.

Amity blinks at the question, mind racing, this was what she'd been waiting for all night and now it's here and she's not prepared in the slightest, because now she knows what her decision is and she hates it; absolutely hates it.

It's painful, what she's about to say, especially as she stares into this girl's brilliant and hopeful, brown eyes, but everything about the girl in front of her has reminded her of Luz at every turn tonight, and as badly as she wants to let go, it seems she can't; and that's not fair to her. This wonderful girl in front of her deserves someone who will think only of her; and as much as she'd like it to be, it's not Amity.

"I can't," she finally says at long last, watching helplessly as the girl's face falls. "I am so sorry…," she rushes to say. "You've been so sweet and kind, but…" She bites her lip and can't break her gaze from those eyes looking back at her through the mask, waiting.

"There's someone else…," the girl finishes for her and it's so sorrowful and knowing that it breaks Amity's heart; she feels awful and all she can do is nod.

Luz tries her damnedest to hide that her heart is breaking as she speaks.

"It's okay…," she says, voice thick like she's on the verge of tears, and if it's possible, Amity's heart fractures a little more. Even now she's being so understanding it makes her want to take back her words, but she holds fast; she has too.

"I'm sorry," is all she can say and tries to convey in those two simple words how much she means it; how much she hates having to do this.

Luz, for her part, shrugs helplessly.

"I knew there was someone else…," she starts and Amity looks at her surprised. "I thought it was worth a shot though…" Her eyes are glassy and she's doing her best to keep the tears at bay, even though she can't will away the trembling in her voice.

She can already see that Amity feels awful, she's not going to make it worse by crying. She’s going to try anyway.

The night is coming to a close and a few people have begun to trickle out and Luz knows that the time to unmask herself has finally come, but her heart has already been broken, so the anxiety she expected for this moment never comes, she feels numb as she reaches up for it but hesitates.

“If… if you don’t want to take your mask off, you don’t have to, it’s okay…,” Amity says after a long moment as Luz fiddles with the edges.

She freezes.

Amity is giving her an out.

A chance to let her walk away without ever actually telling her who she is in order to preserve her dignity and carry on with whatever their relationship was before.

She considers it for a long moment.

Luz doesn’t hesitate for long, she’s never had much use for dignity, and if this ships going to sink she may as well go down with it knowing she did everything she could to save it.

“That’s not really fair to either of us though is it?” she finally asks, smiling sadly at her, and Amity, for being the one who turned her down, looks just as upset as she feels, and of course she does, because Amity is kind like that. A little rough at the edges at first but so unbelievably kind that it makes her chest ache. “Was still a nice night though, right?” she asks quietly, looking at her with a smile that takes all her effort to form.

“Very…,” Amity breathes sadly, heart twisting and ‘i’m sorry’ once more on the tip of her tongue, but before she can utter the words her companion is pulling off her mask and the illusion is broken like it had never existed.

“It was kinda stuffy under there anyway…” Luz scratches her cheek with a finger, doing her best not to look directly at Amity's face as she reaches back to rub away the glyphs on the back of her ears, casting away the illusion concealing her ears while she waits for the witch so say something; anything.

Amity is staring wide-eyed at the girl in front of her, mouth hanging open. Her brain has become static as the human girl stands in front of her, looking down at her feet, head haloed in soft blue light.

Luz

Luz is her secret admirer…

LUZ IS HER SECRET ADMIRER!?

She thinks maybe her heart has stopped, or it’s beating so fast she can no longer distinguish between beats.

"Luz…," she finally managed to utter from a numb mouth and those brown eyes she thinks about so often are trained on her once more.

"Hi" she smiles and it's so unbelievably sorrowful, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

Amity sees them and jerks before her own can start against her will. It's all too much at once.

Suddenly Amity grabs her hand and is pulling her away from the party toward the stairs. Luz yelps but lets herself be dragged along up them and down a dark hallway before Amity pulls them into a room that Luz immediately realizes must be her bedroom; it's very Amity. She shuts the door behind them with an echoing slam.

Luz stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, her mask clenched in her hand as she watches Amity’s back, where she has yet to turn away from the now-closed door, hands still pressed against the wood as though the door is the only thing keeping her standing.

The oppressive silence is making her skin itch and she bites her lip, eyes sting with unshed tears.

She’s never been much for silence and this one is deafening.

“L-look, I’m sorry, Amity, I… I shouldn’t have come and I shouldn’t have said anything, I…,” She croaks, a tear sliding down her cheek as she tries desperately to save whatever might be left of their friendship.

Listening to Luz's choked words is all too much for Amity, a torrent of emotions has welled up inside her chest and behind her eyes, looking for release.

Anything else Luz wanted to say is cut off by a strained sob from the girl in front of her.

Suddenly Amity whips round, making the skirt of her dress flutter and she’s staring back at Luz, gold eyes shining brightly as tears drip down her face from beneath her starry mask and another sob erupts from her throat against her will.

Luz can’t stop herself, she rushes forward and once she's standing in front of the crying girl she hesitates, hands hovering in the air a moment before reaching up to lift up Amity’s mask and once it's out of the way she takes hold of her ruddy cheeks and gently brushes away the tears with her thumbs.

“I’m sorry, Amity,” she mumbles, frowning.

Amity’s hands shoot up to cover her hands with her own smaller ones and shakes her head harshly.

“No,” she chokes. “Don’t be sorry, I'm happy!”

Luz can't help but think that what's going on and what she says are very mixed messages.

But any words they might have wanted to come out of her mouth die in her throat as Amity speaks.

“Did… did you mean it?” she asks in a small quivering voice that sounds so wrong coming from someone so strong. She must show her confusion because Amity speaks again before she can get her mind around the question. “The gifts… the notes…tonight... did you mean all of those things?” she chokes out desperately, tears still running down her cheeks and it makes Luz’s heart twist in such a painful way that she can’t begin to describe it.

A surge of bravery fills Luz’s chest and she pulls her hands out from beneath Amity's to take hold of the other girls and holds them firmly to her chest; Amity’s breath hitches.

“Of course I meant them, you’re so amazing, Amity!” Pink dusts her cheeks but she plows on. “I like you, a lot.” She squeezes her hands. “I just didn’t want to freak you out… I wanted you to like me too… even though I knew there was someone else…,” she trails off, gaze falling to the floor, and dropping Amity’s hands; both of them miss the warmth.

“What?” Now it’s Amity’s turn to be confused.

“Whoever you wanted to invite to grom…,” Luz finally says after a long moment, eyes moving back up to look at Amity’s surprised face. “I know it was selfish, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you being with someone else… I wanted to win you over,” she trails off quietly.

Suddenly Amity’s hands are cupped around her cheeks, forcing her to look at her and brushing away the errant tears that have dripped down Luz's face.

“Luz…” Amity says, voice thick with emotion, a few stray tears are still dripping down her own face but she’s smiling. “It was you, Luz, it's always been you. I wanted to ask you to grom,” she says it at long last and a weight lifts off the witch’s chest she hadn’t even been aware of.

“You… me… you were afraid of being rejected by me?” She fumbles through the sentence with wide eyes and disbelief coloring every word.

Amity only nods and giggles wetly at the girl's wide eyes and slack jaw.

Suddenly Luz has crystal clarity on all of her interactions with Amity. The jumpiness, stammering and blushing…

“I’m so stupid!” Luz squawked suddenly, digging her fingers into her slicked back hair.

Amity chuckled under her breath, feeling brave now too.

“You’re not stupid…,” she says as she reaches up and shoos Luz's hands away before carefully smoothing the dark strands back into place with a gentle hand. The look she’s giving Luz is one of unabashed adoration and Luz feels warm and tingly as Amity runs her fingers through her hair.

“I never picked up on your feelings either…,” Amity reminds, her hands falling away from her hair to rest on her shoulders.

“I was trying to keep mine hidden though… you were so obvious! After all the fanfiction I’ve read, I'm really disappointed in myself for not noticing…," she groans as Amity turns red again.

“I wasn’t that obvious…,” Amity huffs, indignation rising to the surface. Luz wraps her arms around the witch’s waist and pulls her closer. Amity squeaks and blinks at her as Luz’s grin becomes downright smug.

“Oh yeah?” she asks. “Cute uniforms, sweating?” she quotes Amity from weeks ago and Amity’s face turns blood red at the words.

“Shut up!” She puts a hand on Luz’s chest and tries to push her away, face practically steaming with embarrassment.

Luz just laughs, to giddy to contain herself. She likes Amity and Amity likes her! It's the only thought in her head.

Suddenly Amity finds herself lifted off the ground and spinning around the room in Luz’s arms.

“Luz!” They’re both laughing uncontrollably as Luz twirls them around her bedroom.

They finally stop in the middle of the room, both out of breath and smiling so hard their cheeks hurt. Finally Luz lets her feet touch back to the floor but doesn’t release her grip.

They stood there, breathing heavy as the bright blue light of the full moon outside streamed into the window, casting both their faces in its light.

The smile on Amity's lips is so soft and joyful it makes Luz's heart swell.

Suddenly Luz's mouth goes dry as she's struck by a sudden thought.

Maybe it's the high of finding out that Amity returns her feelings, the remains of the bravery her mask had given her or just how breathtaking the girl in her arms is, highlighted by soft blue moonlight shining in her gold eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks before she can rethink it.

Amity’s eyes grow wide as she stares back into deep brown eyes that look alive in the moonlight reflecting off them.

Amity is quiet just long enough that Luz is just about to apologize and her grip on Amity’s waist loosens, bringing the witch back into the present and she panics that Luz is going to let her go, that's the last thing she wants. She tightens her grip on Luz’s shoulders, fingers digging into her vest.

“Please…,” she says and flushes crimson. A simple yes turned into a desperate plea as it came out of her mouth, but Luz doesn’t seem at all fazed as her grip tightens around her waist and she leans in close.

She’s so close all Amity can see is her as their noses brush. She lets her eyes flutter closed as Luz’s lips press against hers.

It’s soft, and much too short.

Luz pulls back all too quick for her and their eyes open, looking at each other silently for several seconds before Amity moves to wrap her arms around the human girl's neck, her fingers threading through the hair there and Luz meets her halfway as she leaned in to kiss her again, this time it's longer but no less gentle, neither are the ones that follow.

Neither is sure how long they stand there, exchanging soft kisses, but it’s brought to an abrupt end when the bedroom door swings open.

“Hey, Mittens, everyone left, how was the part-” Edric’s question dies in his mouth as he and Emira stand open mouthed in the doorway as the two younger teens pull apart and stare at them, red faced.

“Well… this is unexpected…” Emira recovers first and crosses her arm, leaning on the doorframe. “Actually it isn’t…” She smirks.

“Wha-?” Edric is still blinking at them with wide eyes.

“Oh, is it that late already?” Luz laughs nervously and finally lets go of Amity and takes a step back. “I better get going!"

She hurries toward the door and is careful not to look at either of the twins as she speed walks out of the room between them.

“Why do neither of you know how to knock!?” Amity hisses, face bright crimson, and it's hard to say if it’s more anger or embarrassment as she rushes past them and down the stairs.

She catches Luz at the front door, staff in hand as she steps outside.

“Wait, Luz.” Amity calls, and she does. She feels like she couldn’t deny Amity anything right now. Her lips are still tingling.

“I… I’m sorry, about them,” she apologizes, hands fisted into her dress. Did her siblings just ruin this for her?

Luz just smiles.

“It’s okay, I really do need to go… but um…” she trails off and Amity looks up at her, eyebrows raised in silent question.

“If you’re not busy tomorrow maybe we could… I dunno, hang out in town, maybe go to that bakery you like… like, a date?” she scratches the back of her head and shifts from foot to foot, waiting for Amity’s answer.

Amity smiles and brushes some hair behind her ear.

“I’d like that.” She nods and Luz lights up with a bright grin that Amity finds herself returning.

“Great! I'll meet you there at lunch time?"

Amity nods.

"Cool… cool …,well… I better get going…” She takes a half step forward and pecks the witch’s cheek before stepping back with a bright grin at Amity's surprised and pink face.

Her eyes flicker to something over Amity’s shoulder and she flushes before turning and with a flick of her wrist Owlbert’s wings are spread. She took a running leap off the porch onto the staff and is quickly flying over the lawn.

“Bye Amity!” she calls as she flies over the wrought iron gate.

Amity waves, feeling the wide smile pulling at her face as she watches Luz disappear into the dark of the night.

“She’s got style, I’ll give her that.”

Amity jumps at her brother's voice and spins around to find the twins standing in the doorway looking smug.

“Your girlfriend is something else, Amity.” Emira laughs.

Amity freezes at the word ‘girlfriend’. They hadn’t discussed anything of the sort...but… she slowly smiles to herself as she thinks about everything that had happened tonight and about the date she had tomorrow.

“Yeah, she is,” she agrees and the twins grin.

“How’d she make her ears pointed?” Edric wonders.

Amity doesn't seem to be listening now, lost in a world of her own and the twins share a knowing look.

"Good job, sis." He gives her a nudge, bringing her back to the present.

"Yeah, she's a catch," Emira agrees and Amity turns to her sister. She's finally put all the pieces together. Emira knew and had been pushing them together all this time.

She suddenly flings herself into her arms.

Emira blinks, surprised.

"I know what you did." Amity's voice is muffled against her sister's dress. "Thank you."

Smiling the older Blight girl wraps her arms around her little sister and squeezes.

"Anytime"

Edric just blinks at them, confused.

~ ~ ~

Luz is so giddy as she flies through the air it finally bursts out of her in a loud whoop and did barrel rolls on the staff with glee.

“She likes me!” Luz screams out into the cool night air.

She grins all the way home, and her cheeks hurt, but she just can't stop smiling.

When she lands in front of the owl house. Hooty is asleep and she pushes the door open quietly and shuts it silently once she steps inside.

“How’d it go?”

Luz jumps six feet in the air at the voice.

She turns to see Eda and Lillith sitting on the couch with two cups of tea.

“Oh...well…”

The smile that blooms on her apprentice’s face tells Eda all she needs to know.

“Come tell us about it.” She pats the empty space between them.

Luz lays Owlbert against the wall and plops down between the sisters.

Now that she is closer, the sisters can see her better and Eda erupts into loud, uncontrollable laughter that makes tears gather in her eyes.

“W-what?” Luz blinks at her and Lillith seems to see what Eda thinks is so funny and covers her mouth with a hand to stifle her laughter.

“Maybe don’t tell us everything!” Eda manages to get out between choked laughter.

Lilith manages to get herself under control much quicker.

“You… have a little something…” she points to her own mouth and Luz jumps up and runs to the standing mirror on the other side of the room to look at herself and her cheeks turn crimson.

Light pink lipstick is smeared across her mouth.

Eda continues to howl.

#Lumity #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Edric Blight #Emira Blight #Eda Clawthorne #Lillith Clawthorne #fanfic #TOH #the owl house #Moonlit Masquerade

81 notes · View notes

wienerbarnes · 4 years

Text

Left for Dead (2/2)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,991

Warnings: mentions to bombs and ships and stuff, baking

A/N: yay pt 2 enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“Her clothes came back with traces of bomb ingredients and she still has no memory of anything that happened to her or anything about this bomb.” Sam briefs the three of you.

It’s later in the day, now, about five in the evening when Sam gets word back from his agents.

“What if she was forced to make the bomb?” You find yourself offering.

Sam waits a moment while looking at you before he responds, “How sure are you that she didn’t do it?”

“Very.”

He sighs, “You were seeing German but my agents said she told them she doesn’t know a lick of any language other than English,”

“That she remembers.” Bucky interrupts.

“That she remembers. Sharon, I want you to look into German bomb manufacturers around here.”

Sharon nods and stands and makes her way out of the room. The three of you occupy a smaller conference room, about a third of the size of the one you were in this morning.

“I want to try again. With my visions. Maybe, with something from evidence.” You suggest.

“Are you sure?” Sam asks, more out of concern than of skepticism.

“Yes.” You reassure him. You haven't paid much attention to Bucky since Sam called you down just now, you find yourself getting a bit invested into the cases and wanting to solve it and figure out what happening, and you don’t want to let Bucky’s pretty face distract you. Such a pretty face it is.

You roll your eyes at that voice again. Being surrounded by so much information is kinda making your brain go haywire, you find. These voice haven’t bothered you since prison, only every once in a blue moon, but they’ve been non-fucking-stop since you’ve gotten on the case.

Makes for a good seat, too. “Shut up, would you?!” You yell, quickly realizing that you said that out loud instead of in your head. Embarrassment floods your body immediately and you look up to see both men staring at you in surprise.

“Uhm, sorry. It’s nothing, can I see the box?” You gesture towards the large brown box labeled evidence.

Sam plops it at your feet and you sift through the copious amounts of plastic bags until you come across a piece of fabric.

“It’s a piece of the dress she was wearing when she was found. Another piece was sent off to the lab which is where they found all those bomb-making chemicals on it.” Sam informs you.

You take a deep breath and remove the cloth from the bag and roll it around your fingers. You’re fingers grip it hard and feel it softly, trying to conjure up something, anything, in your head.

“It’s not a carrier,” You begin, the ship showing up in your mind, but your knowledge is foggy from when you were a Marine.

“Submarine?”

“Destroyer?”

“Cruiser?”

“Battleship?”

“I - I - don’t know… fuck,” You clench the fabric in your fists in an attempt to cease their shaking. All these ships look the fucking same anyway.

Not to the Navy, they don’t.

You ignore it and continue, “I - I - I see a man,” A whine escapes you as the emotion becomes overwhelming, “He’s bald and - and white and like forty? Maybe? Uh,”

You sniffle, “Prince, Prince, Prince, Prince, I don’t know why I’m seeing Prince.”

“Like the singer?” Sam questions.

Bucky gently takes the cloth from your hands, “I think that’s enough for now.”

You try to catch your breath and hastily wipe the tears that escaped your eyes. “I was a Marine, why can’t I remember the ship?” You ask more yourself than the other two people in the room.

Maybe it's all the crazy taking up so much space it’s gotta push some of the older info out.

Ignore. It.

“Cruisers are named after battles and destroyers are named after names, maybe Prince is a destroyer ship. I’ll have an agent look into all current operating ships and see if any matches come up. Barnes, go give Sharon the description of this bald white guy, see if she can use it to match with a bomb manufacturing place.”

“Yes, sir, Cap.” Bucky stands from his seat beside you and exits the room.

The two of you sit in silence, now; you’re not really sure what to do. Should you leave again? Wait until they need you? Stay? Make small talk with Captain America?

“Can I ask you something?” Sam interrupts the quiet.

“Sure.”

“Why are you so adamant about being here? You’re pretty good at this investigative stuff and I think you have a lot of potential for it.”

You give an appreciative smile at his compliment before answering, “I was a Marine for two years where I followed orders from assholes and worked alongside people that treated me like I was garbage. Then, I was kidnapped by HYDRA and tortured to comply working under an organization I didn’t want to with people who didn’t even treat me like a human being. And now, I’m brought here to live and work in a place I don’t want to be at with people who don’t and will never know who I actually am. So, you can kind of see why I’m adamant.”

Sam looks down, and you don’t want to make him feel bad, because he gave you the best scenario he could given the circumstances of everything.

“I just want a little bit of control with my life for once, is all. But, I know what I have now is very lucky for me, so I’m grateful, even if it’s not what I want.”

He looks back at you and now it’s your turn to give him a reassuring smile. You have a feeling you’ll grow on each soon enough.

…

You’re glad your powers didn’t fail you for your first case, because that would have been terribly embarrassing. Sharon was able to find a German bomb-making company with employees who have recently gone missing that match the descriptions of the man you saw and the Jane Doe.

Now that their identities have been found, there’s still the question of where this bomb is and if it’s even real.

You can’t help but let it keep you up that night. When you were doing jobs for HYDRA, it wasn’t a matter of making sure every rock was left turned over; you performed the job because the alternative was being tortured.

You glance at the clock, 1:32.

You remember one particular mission you didn’t complete because it involved you having to kill kids. And when you returned with an unfinished mission they tortured you so bad that you begged them to just kill you. And they said that they would never kill you because then the horrors would end. It was the easy way out; and they would torture you for the rest of time before they ever kill you. It was too much mercy to be shown to a prisoner.

Another glance at the clock that tells you only six minutes have passed causes you to get up. You can’t get too deep into your thoughts, especially if tomorrow is going to have you busy helping with this case. You have to make yourself busy.

So you cook. You go through the pantries and cupboards for ingredients; brown sugar, white sugar, eggs, flour, vanilla. You became very good at estimating and perfecting the things you wanted to cook. You never had a phone or laptop to look up measurements for something or a cookbook to follow, so you had to experiment yourself until you got it right. When you lived in your apartment, sometimes you would venture out to bookstores and try your hardest to memorize the recipes in cookbooks in order to replicate it at home.

You quietly mix together all of the ingredients until a thick dough forms. Cinnamon and brown sugar cookies. One reason you liked cooking so much is because, even though it was hard without any instructions to follow, it was one of the few times your voices were quiet. Actual silence. You cooked without any electric supplies or music for this reason, too.

You sit on the ground in front of the oven and watch as the balls of cookie dough slowly melt and rise up again, forming the perfect circular shape with the perfect amount of chewiness and crunch when you take a bite.

You softly unstick the cookies from the pan with a spatula and glance at the clock again. 3:02.

You remember Bucky’s words from this morning; how he sticks around for these kinds of missions in his spare room.

“Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Agent?”

“Is… Is Bucky here?”

“Yes, Agent.”

“Is he awake?”

“Yes, Agent.”

“But, is he, like, awake - awake? Or like falling asleep, but still technically awake - awake? Or is he -”

“Would you like me to lead you to where his quarters are, Agent?”

The hallways are quiet, but you’re grateful that there are lights along the floors so you’re not completely walking through the dark. Seeing a sliver of dim light show underneath his door makes you feel a little better about the late hour. After about five minutes of contemplation, you raise your fist and leave three soft knocks on the door.

Bucky opens the door a few seconds later and seems wide awake. You see behind him a notebook open on his desk with some music playing softly in the room.

You speak before he gets a chance to, “I made too many cookies, do you want to help me eat them?”

A smile grows on his face as he silently nods after a moment.

“Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y., mind turning everything off, please?”

The lights turn off and the music stops as he closes the door behind him. The two of you quietly walk side by side back towards the elevator, because it seems like Bucky’s room is right below yours.

He wears a black long sleeve shirt and dark gray cotton shorts, paired with white socks on his feet. What you would do to add some color to this man’s closet, you think.

A cloud of sugar and warmth hits him in the face when he enters your room. The combination of your smell and the smell of cookies and the sight of you in cute little pink shorts and an oversized college sweatshirt that has a big bear on it and the yellow and orange polka-dotted socks on your feet and all of your things everywhere makes him feel like he just entered his dreams.

“It smells amazing in here.” He compliments.

He watches you smile and grab the pan that has since cooled enough for you to grab it and walk over to plop down on your bed. Bucky follows and sits himself down utop one of your soft fuzzy blankets.

“Are these brown sugar cookies? These are my favorite,” Bucky says as he shovels one in his mouth whole.

I know they’re your favorite.

“Mmm - almost feels like I’m back at your apartment.” He smiles nostalgically, looking around and taking in the wonderful colors of your personality that brighten up this room.

“Good, means I did a good job redecorating. It’s okay that I did decorate, right? There isn’t a security deposit I’m going to lose?” You joke, and for a moment, it really does feel like the two of you are back in your apartment, before all of this chaos hit the fan.

The two of you eat and eat and eat, sharing playful small talk in between bites, until the two of you are stuffed to the brim with dough and are laying side by side on the bed, empty tray by both of your feet.

“Hey, Bucky?” You ask out into the calm, open air.

“Mmm,” He hums.

“I’m sorry for spitting on you. And then avoiding you. And then yelling at you and saying those awful things,” You turn on your side and lay a hand on his arm, “I didn’t mean it, I was just upset.” Your eyebrows quirk up at him, silently begging him to forgive you.

He sends a playful smile at you before mirroring you and turning on his side as well to face you, grabbing your hand from his arm and holding it in his large one, “It’s okay, doll. I would’ve been just as upset as you if I were in your position. I’m sorry things didn’t… work out the way they should’ve for you.”

“Not something you gotta apologize for, Bucky.” You whisper.

The two of you lay there, hands intertwined in each other, eyes locked. You’re not sure how long the two of you lay like that, or how long Bucky stays, but sleep finally comes to you at 4:55 in the morning.

…

The next few days pass in a bit of a blur. One of the private hackers was able to get a list of ships in communication with the found German bomb-manufacturing company and Sharon was able to find one of the ships, named The Princeton - which is why you kept seeing something about prince in your head, not because of the late musical artist - which was having a scheduled bomb test aboard. A bomb testing that was swapped with real bombs instead of fake ones, seemingly by the man you saw in your visions, the same one who tried to bury Jane Doe. All of the Marines aboard remained safe and unharmed, and you officially closed the case on your very first mission.

Sam thought you did very well, but still wanted to keep a slow pace with your advancements on the team. He set up for you to train with him a few times a week in a private training room, and perhaps with the next set of agent trainees Bucky will be tasked with at the beginning of the year in a few weeks.

With the mission being completed, Bucky returned home to his apartment to sleep and stay until he’s called once again for another mission. He kind of… can’t wait? After Steve retired, he didn’t see a big reason to continue with all the fighting; he didn’t really see a reason even before Steve retired when he was still staying in Wakanda. He enjoyed that quiet lifestyle, tending to his gardens, feeding his sheep, cleaning up around wherever he could, talking to those that lived around him, hanging out with the children. It was paradise for him.

But now, with you around, actually around where he doesn’t have to hide you from his closest friends, the prospect of more missions doesn’t seem all that horrible. Maybe it’s the thought that you’d be around him that makes it more bearable for him, or maybe he’s just simply had a change of heart over time.

He finds himself returning more and more to the tower when he doesn’t have to; finding the smallest excuses to go - sometimes he doesn’t even run into you when he does. But he tries to.

He’s roaming around the open gym, opting for thirty miles on the treadmill instead of out and around his neighborhood, panting a bit while he wipes down the machine before leaving to go work with the weights. He feels a tap on his shoulder and he turns and plucks a headphone of his ear, coming face to face with an old trainee, now trained agent.

“Nuñez, what’s up?” Bucky greets him with a rough shake of the hand. Don’t get him wrong, he was a fantastic soldier to train, and he turned out to be an even more fantastic agent. But he has no idea why he’s talking to him while he’s in the middle of a workout.

“Hey, Sergeant, sorry to bother you. I - uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?” He stutters out.

Why is he so nervous?

Bucky urges him to continue with a nod of his head.

“So, uh, I wanna ask you something, y’know, man-to-man, rather than Sergeant-to-Agent, and - and - feel free to tell me if I’m overstepping with this! I just didn’t - didn’t -”

“Spit it out, Nuñez.”

“Okay, okay. Remember the last briefing we had?”

“It was about five days ago, yes, I remember.”

“Right, right, of course. Well, there was… this girl sitting next to you.”

A part of Bucky freezes and he hopes he’s talking about Sharon.

“Agent Carter?” Bucky asks.

“No, no, not Agent 13. The other girl sitting next to you. Black hair, kinda short.” He tries, but Bucky knows exactly who he’s talking about.

“What about her?” Bucky tries to turn on a bit more of his Sergeant voice, anything to end this conversation because he has a feeling where it might be going.

Agent Nuñez pasues, “Well, uh, who is she?”

“Why?”

“She’s pretty.”

“She’s pretty?” Bucky repeats.

“Yeah. I wanted to know who she is, I haven’t seen her around and I don’t remember her from any of the trainings.”

“She’s a new agent in training, she’s being trained under the Captain.” Bucky tells him.

“Oh… What’s her name?”

“Nuñez! Enough with the twenty questions!” Bucky bursts out, because why does he have such a fascination with you? It’s like he wants to -

“I just wanna ask her out or something, but I don’t know anything about her!”

“Well, that sounds like a good reason to -” Bucky stops himself when an idea comes into his head, and before he can think twice about it, he’s speaking once more,

“Actually, I just remembered, Nuñez. She’s taken. She’s in a relationship. So, yeah. Sorry.” Bucky slaps a hand on the Agent’s shoulder for good measure.

“Oh… that sucks. It’s always the pretty ones that are taken, huh?”

“Yeah, buddy. Anyway, see you later!” Bucky breathes out, desperate to get out of that conversation and just continue with his damn workout…

Why did he just lie like that in order to stop a guy from asking you out?

#bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes one shot #Bucky Barnes fan fiction #marvel #marvel fan fiction

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aminiatureworld · 4 years

Text

Moonlit Words

Ship: Geralt x Jaskier

Warnings: Bit angsty

Premise: For Jaskier the night is a time for thoughts and anxieties. For Geralt it is a time when his bard seems to get little sleep but disappears a lot. This situation becomes unbearable and the two finally have a conversation about themselves and their feelings for each other.

Author’s Note: Sorry for how long it's been since I've written! My mental health took a bit of a hit these past few weeks, so writing was slow going. Still, I hope you enjoy this, and I hope to be back to posting every five days soon!

My thanks to my readers in the endnote!

Ao3 link in reblog

Jaskier could never say that he was unlucky for being alive. The things he’d experienced, even in the first years of his life, were the kind that children would dream of. For who could say that they’d traveled the Continent with a witcher, that they’d seen the edge of the world and had been gifted an instrument by elves, that they’d seen the absolute best and worst of humanity? Who could say that they met someone said to be a monster and had fallen hopelessly in love with them? For indeed, by now Jaskier could wholeheartedly admit that he’d fallen for Geralt, had crashed and burned, and was now in the process of being eaten from the inside out with the longing. Though he also knew to say anything might be an even more painful fate. So he’d said nothing. And indeed he was grateful, and lucky too. But sometimes it hurt a bit to keep it all inside. Especially after the mountain.

Geralt had apologized of course, and Jaskier, as angry and hurt as he was, couldn’t say no to joining him again. Especially not after meeting Ciri, after hearing that Yennefer had gone missing. How could he leave Geralt to fend for himself in such a situation? So of course Jaskier went along with Geralt. But the bard couldn’t deny that there had been a shift in the relationship between the two and that the secrets Jaskier had once thought to reveal were now locked up firmly in his thoughts. Thoughts not only of his love for the Witcher but other things, like the trials of boyhood and long-gone friends and enemies. The worst thoughts were the anxieties that kept him up ungodly hours into the night. He’d toss and turn, head spinning round and round in a litany of despair. Jaskier wanted someone to confide in, needed it even. But there was no one, and he felt a bit like he was adrift on a dark sea, continued to corrode inside, wondering if there’d ever be some sort of reprieve.

Geralt knew that something was wrong with Jaskier. At first Geralt had tried to ignore it, then he’d tried apologizing again, then he’d said nothing and simply watched as Jaskier seemed to slip farther and farther away. It was an agonizing thing to witness. Nightly there were the now-familiar sounds of Jaskier’s unrest, oftentimes resulting in him walking away from where the trio was camping. He’d leave for hours, hours in which Geralt felt every fiber of his being screaming at him to run after Jaskier. Not that he ever disappeared. Geralt knew Jaskier wouldn’t pull something like that, nor did Geralt have any false pretenses about Jaskier being able to defend himself against vagabonds and the like. Jaskier was lethal with a knife, something that secretly thrilled Geralt. Still, monsters were a different matter altogether, and though Geralt was always careful to camp where they’d be least likely to disturb any creatures lurking who knew where the bard went in the night. And the Witcher knew too well there were some things in the world worse than the monsters around oneself.

That wasn’t the only alarm though. Geralt sometimes marveled that he’d ever complained about Jaskier talking too much. Not that Jaskier was completely silent, no, perhaps that’d be too obvious. Still, the times when Jaskier made stray comments about something he’d learned at Oxenfurt or asked questions about Geralt’s adventures appeared to be over. Now it was asking if he was going too slow, commenting about whether there’d be a storm, and every so often letting a short hum pass his lips before the melody inevitably stopped short, replaced by a nervous smile. It threw Geralt off guard, more than he’d like to admit, and suddenly the Witcher began to realize how little he knew of Jaskier’s thoughts, much less of his past. The contrast was even more apparent when traveling with Ciri, who was in the habit of mentioning things that reminded her of home or asking Geralt, and now Jaskier as well, about things such as her parents and her grandmother. Jaskier answered those questions readily enough at least, but now even Valdo Marx seemed to become forbidden territory, and when Geralt offhandedly mentioned the incident with the djinn Jaskier simply chuckled and pointed out a particularly lovely patch of daisies.

The fire flickered lazily, reflecting perhaps the hot day that’d come before the night. These were the worst nights for Jaskier since sleep never came easily to him on the best of days it seemed, and the heat was bound to make things a hundred times worse. He’d tried to stave off the others, had spent extra time telling Ciri about various friends and acquaintances of her grandmother and parents, ignoring Geralt’s grumbling that fatigue was deadly for warriors. He’d even broken out the lute, something that hardly ever happened these days in front of other people, for his instrument had become a companion of the night when he could steal away from the campfire, rather than something to be enjoyed out in the open. It was too personal now. Still he’d sung a few songs, the usual fare that people at taverns liked best, and managed to get himself about an hour and a half of time before the inevitable grumblings from Geralt became snappish and it was time to sleep. Well, for the others to sleep at least.

Jaskier lay down as always, throwing off the noisy blanket with the pretense it was too hot, and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for some time, waiting for Geralt’s breathing to hit the length and depth that betrayed the Witcher as fully meditative, before sitting up and grabbing his case. A part of him nagged at this stealing away once more, but it was easily ignored. He needed this, needed some time where he could be alone, could be fully himself, fully aware of all the pain and anxiety that was kept tightly corked in the daytime. So he looked around him, making sure that nothing was out of place from where he left it, and slowly crept out of the glade and into the welcoming trees beyond.

Geralt’s surprise at Jaskier’s nighttime excursions had by this point vanished. It’d become such a routine part of the night that the Witcher couldn’t even find himself surprised at his companion’s reticence to lie down, his insistence on tiptoeing around the idea of going to sleep. Still, the whole activity sat wrong with Geralt, and this night was no different. Maybe it was even worse, for try as he might Geralt couldn’t stop the thoughts spinning round his head. Visions of broken ribs, twisted ankles, shadows that maimed and stabbed and killed, they all lined themselves up in an exhaustive litany in his head. It was ridiculous of course, Jaskier was many things but though the bard was sometimes foolish he was never an idiot. Still, perhaps Jaskier’s leaving and Yennefer’s disappearance had taught him something, for Geralt now stood up, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders. He walked over to Ciri’s bedroll, shaking her gently. “Whaddya want?” came the response, for by this time Ciri had stopped jumping every time Geralt went to wake her up, something that had originally hurt the Witcher to see, a reminder of how many lives were ruined by the greed of men, a reminder that his family was a band of various survivors.

“Jaskier went off, I’m going to look for him. You know where the weapons are. Whatever you do –“

“Don’t fall asleep yeah, yeah.” Ciri sat up and waved her hand dismissively. “About time you go after the poor fellow, what’s it been three months?”

“Yeah.” Geralt replied, impressed, as he’d never thought that Ciri would’ve noticed. The surprise must’ve shown somehow for Ciri smirked and made a pushing motion.

“Go off and get Jaskier, he’s waiting, whether he knows it or not. Besides you’re all awfully annoying as you are right now.” Geralt shook his head and rolled his eyes, but still, a smile came to his face, and as he stalked out into the woods, trying to track where the bard went, he found himself thinking, survivors or not, he was very lucky with the family he had indeed.

The moon was a sliver in the sky, barely enough light for a human to make out a few fingers in front of their face. Geralt, of course, had no issue picking himself throw the overgrown, well could one even call it a path? The marks of Jaskier on the other hand were much more evident, brambles bent and crooked, marks in the cool, wet earth. If someone had wanted to come after the bard locating him would’ve been no trouble. Still, the air seemed clear enough, and Geralt could hear no anomalies in the normal nocturnal comings and goings, something he found himself grateful for. Ears straining to hear any mark of the bard, Geralt finally caught a few scraps of Jaskier’s voice, although the sounds were hardly intelligible. Using Jaskier’s voice as a guide, Geralt found himself veering off the path, into a particularly lovely group of trees, all greenery, leaves puffing out in perfect circles like mushrooms, although the stars could still be seen through the gaps. Stepping silently near the one with the lowest branches Geralt made to call out, but finally, the words hit him, and the Witcher could do nothing but listen.

“Well it’s not like I wouldn’t still like that bastard to rot. I mean really, the amount of groveling I did in my youth.” Jaskier sighed, leaning back into the cool comfort of the tree. It was really too easy to talk to himself. He was swallowed up by his own words. His lute was swung about his stomach, carefully protected from being smashed, but Jaskier had yet to play it. For now he was simply talking with himself, releasing all the pent up frustration. It wasn’t a two-way conversation, not by any stretch of the imagination, but in a way Jaskier didn’t mind that either. After all, didn’t other people always act like you said the wrong thing?

“Not that I’ve stopped groveling. Damn it’s a miracle I left Geralt instead of beginning for forgiveness or something. Before coming right back of course! Can’t ever explain myself can I? Not that I still don’t love the damn idiot, but it hurt. It hurts to be disposable. But no one ever thinks like that do they? I don’t even think like that. Still, oh I don’t know. It hurts of course, but that’s nothing new.” Sighing Jaskier gazed up at the sky. “I wonder if the stars feel cold and lonely. Do they talk to themselves? Do the gods do so, all up in their marbled palaces, away from us all? Maybe they’re all lonely, and that’s the secret.” Sighing once more Jaskier made a halfhearted attempt to open his lute case. The cap he was wearing, really Jaskier now couldn’t live without his hats, fluttered off his head, and, too afraid to crush his instrument, Jaskier waited for the sound of it hitting the mossy ground beneath. When that didn’t come he leaned over, trying to keep his weight as centered as possible so as not to fall and wreck his lute, and, squinting a bit in the dark, found himself face to face with the last person on the Continent he’d like to have heard his ramblings.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice seemed odd to Jaskier’s ears. He loved Geralt’s voice, it’s deep tone and slow cadence, Jaskier had always suspected the Witcher could be one hell of a storyteller if he wished to be. Geralt’s voice was steadying, but now it only threw Jaskier into a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, most of them various levels of embarrassment.

“Geralt!” Jaskier’s voice on the other hand was quite squeaky, hardly the dignified tenor the bard was known for. Still, acting cool in such a situation was out of the question, for Geralt had surely heard it all, damn his witcher senses. “Why’re you here?”

“Why’re you here?”

“I… uh… I came to relax. It’s much too hot, even without the blanket. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

Jaskier could make out Geralt shaking his head, his hair seeming almost like liquid silver in the faint moonlight. “I knew you weren’t going to bed. You always sleep with a blanket, even in the hottest weather.”

“Ah.” Jaskier wasn’t sure whether to be even more embarrassed or vaguely happy that Geralt knew his habits so well. The talking, however, was a habit that Jaskier would rather no one know about, witchers absolutely included. “Well, I’m sorry to worry you, but I’m alright, really. Just want to stay out and see the stars a bit longer. You don’t have to babysit me. I know you don’t like dead weight or anything like that. Go back to bed, I’m sure Ciri needs sleep too.” No way would Geralt leave Ciri asleep alone at night; Jaskier realized with a pang how much this excursion was costing others. Still, he couldn’t go back to sleep, not now.

“You aren’t dead weight.” The reply was so unexpected Jaskier for a minute thought he’d imagined it, that this was one of his fantasies where Geralt was understanding and receptive, and, yes, as in love with Jaskier as he was with Geralt. The breath seemed to steal from Jaskier’s lungs, and a what was forming on his lips before Geralt continued. “You don’t have to go off to talk either. I… I’ll listen to them. I want to listen to them. I want to know more about you, like before.” Geralt’s head moved, showing the Witcher had moved his gaze towards the ground. “I want to know about your past. I want to know about your feelings. I want to know your thoughts, about yourself, about those around you. About,” the pause in the air was so charged Jaskier wondered if it would shock him, “me. You aren’t disposable. And I’m sorry. About the mountain. About making you feel like you aren’t important to me. You’re my companion. My family.”

Geralt felt as if all the air had been knocked out of him. He usually didn’t like to talk much, stringing multiple sentences together felt somehow burdensome to others. Still, the words needed to be said. More needed to be said of course. Geralt’s feelings for Jaskier had always been warm. Jaskier was the sunlight in his life, a fire that danced and crackled, brilliant and flashy, yes, but warm and comforting too. He didn’t want to think about it, not even to himself. He wasn’t brave like Jaskier, couldn’t put those words out into the universe, where they’d have such power. Still, apparently keeping them locked up harmed instead of helped. He gazed up in the tree, could see the watery quality of Jaskier’s eyes, something that only made the blue of his irises more striking. The urged seized Geralt to climb up the tree and sweep the bard into a hug. To listen to the stories of the bastard who forced Jaskier to grovel, something that swept waves of anger and sadness through Geralt, so strong for a moment he couldn’t even pin them down. He wanted to listen to Jaskier, to respond so that the bard didn’t have to respond to himself. He wanted to do that and then to talk himself, to string those tricky sentences together, to bind them and throw them haphazardly into the world where they’d fall to Jaskier’s feet, like flower petals. He wanted Jaskier to feel less alone, to feel happy. He needed to say that. How though? There seemed such a barrier, why was there always a barrier?

“Thank you.” Jaskier was speaking now, even as his eyes continued to water and his face redden. “I know this is unexpected. And I know you don’t talk much about it. About anything really, most silent man I know.” Jaskier huffed out an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to say that just to humor me though. I just need time for myself.”

“You don’t need to say that, don’t need to make me leave you alone.” Geralt he knew this dance, had learned the steps himself at an early age. Tell everyone it’s alright. Push them away. Let the loneliness eat you up inside as long as no one else knows. “I meant those words. I want to listen. And I want you to have someone to listen to you. I’m not letting you humor me either.”

“You don’t understand what that means. I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t. And you don’t have to haul ass in a tree to hide. I don’t understand. But I want to. And that’s it.” Geralt reached for the nearest branch, and quickly found himself sitting on the same level as the bard. “I won’t force you to talk. But I also don’t want you to pretend and then spend the better half of three months running away at night to let yourself get eaten up by the feeling you repress. You always defended me against people who said witchers didn’t feel things, right? Well, I’m defending you against whatever part of your mind tells you bards don’t feel things either.”

“Alright.” Jaskier shook his head. “I’m tired. You win. But don’t act all surprised when you don’t like what you hear.”

“Thank you. From now on?”

“From now on.” Jaskier nodded. “But first, sleep.”

“What?” Geralt looked a bit as if he’d been rammed by a horse, something that made Jaskier burst out into laughter, for it all seemed so wildly hilarious now, the entire situation.

“You left Ciri to defend on her own, didn’t you? And talking to you is exhausting.” Jaskier gazed up through the tree. “The stars will be here tomorrow. Just like my troubles. One night won’t make them go away. Even hundreds of nights won’t.” Sliding down the tree, careful to protect his lute, Jaskier landed in the moss, Geralt close behind. “You sure you meant all you said?”

“Yes.” Geralt seemed back to his reticent self. Jaskier felt the urge to slip into his regular persona as well, but it was too late for that. Besides, he thought to himself, I don’t want to hide who I am anymore. I’m tired. And, somehow, I think it’ll be alright. After all, no one’s offered to listen before. Jaskier suddenly felt his hand enveloped in warmth. Glancing down he saw his finger intertwined with Geralt’s.

“You sure about this?” He blurted out.

“Yes.” Geralt replied again. “And, Jaskier?”

“Yeah?”

“I… I may not… I mean… you’re my friend.”

“I hope I am!” Jaskier joked, slipping into his usual bluster. Still, it seemed as if Geralt wasn’t quite done with his thought, for he shook his head again slightly, and plowed ahead.

“You’re my friend. But also, you’re more than that. Witchers don’t have companions. Not with our lifespans, not with the danger we put ourselves through. But, if we were to have them, if I could choose a companion… you’d be mine.”

It wasn’t quite the same thing as Jaskier’s ramblings, honestly, nothing could compare to those, but the bard smiled anyways. Squeezing his hand Jaskier suddenly felt light. There was still so much he had locked away, still, so much he’d buried and hidden. Still, it was as if, if only for a moment, there’d been a great flash, and hope had suddenly warmed his soul. It wasn’t quite the same thing, but it was enough. And if Geralt was truly going to listen, then Jaskier was so very lucky to be alive indeed.

My heartfelt thanks to the 20 people who liked my last post and the 4 people who reblogged it. I’m so sorry for the wait and every single like makes me feel honored and brings me joy. I hope to live up to your expectations as a fanfic writer and I hope you continue to enjoy my works!

#fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #geraskier fanfiction #mine #geraskier fanfic #geraskier oneshot #so many tags...

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magical-readathon-diaries · 3 years

Text

Djali’s Log 1

So I guess this is the beginning of it? The big adventure I always dreamed of? Braving the Novice Path, heading towards the Academy to meet new people, learn new things, see fantastic places. Wait, should I do an introduction here? Do journals even need introductions? Well, what if one day my journal is saved for posterity for some historical reason? Maybe someone venturing onto the Novice Path in the future could benefit from reading this log and learn how to better navigate it themselves? Yes, yes, then an introduction is in order.

Hello, this is Djali, of the Great Underworld Library of Darkmeadow. I am seventeen years of age, of Iltirian heritage, and tutored in the realms of history, geography, biology, archivism, and certain magics, such as conjuration and illusion. I have spent my entire life beneath Darkmeadow and was raised by the curators of the Library, though my main overseer is, at this moment, Archivist Caddigan. My knowledge of the world and its inhabitants is limited solely to my own personal research, as this log contains my first voyage away from home, so any discrepancies or misunderstandings found within are solely the fault of my own inexperience. That’s a normal thing to put in a journal, right? Okay, focus, time to move forward.

My journey to Orilium was relatively uneventful. Caddigan arranged passage for me on a ship, which carried many other residents of Darkmeadow looking to take on the Path. I was eager to speak with them to learn how they would approach this challenge, knowing that not all who undertake it come out alive. While I did get the usual pleasantries, no one was willing to talk for long. They were still planning, preparing, or fretting for what was ahead of them. Not that I can blame them, of course. With all the stories one hears, it would be foolish not to do everything in one’s power to make sure they were one hundred percent ready. It’s just….I thought things would be different. Less…. solitary. That we would all recognize our common goal and work together, like the stories of heroes long ago. But, those stories are the past, not now, as Caddigan always tries to remind me. Still, why can’t then be now also?

I spent most of the time reacquainting myself with the map of the Path, its general layout, as well as practice some magic that may be of use during the test. I had it all down to the best of my ability, I didn’t think I can take much more of it. My head was so full of what ifs, contingency plans, and just general information it feels like it was going to burst. I think the only time I felt any solace was at night.

Though I was unable to chance a flight that night, I did fly up the mast to sit in the crow’s nest. It was made for crows after all. I haven’t done too much study into nautical topics, so that’s my best assumption. I stared for a while at the stars, still admiring, my mind wanting to focus on a single point, rather than the chaos currently bouncing around my temples. It was a nice moment, one that I will treasure always and take comfort in. Of course, I eventually fell asleep, so the morning after I needed a bit of help getting down since the blasted sun was ruining my eyes again, but we won’t dwell on that.

This was my first time leaving the Library, meaning this was probably the longest time I have been on the surface in a while. I’ve ventured out onto the topside of Darkmeadow a few times, giving Caddigan multiple heart attacks in the process, but those excursions were never that long, not enough for me to get a good sense of the outside. Being on the ship, however, exposed me to what life is like in the open air. Before I left, Caddigan gave me a blindfold, as my eyes are not used to the sun and I really would not like to spend my days in a total blinded stupor. During the day I mostly spent time below deck, just wandering aimlessly. But at night, I emerged to see a sky flooded with stars.

I’ve studied stars in the past, learned their names, positions, and what constellations they create, but actually seeing them was almost indescribable. The light was soft, gentle, unlike the harsh light of day that I unfortunately have to get used to. They were celestial pinpricks in a velvet tarp of night, the world made more beautiful just by their existence. There was no moon unfortunately, but it was still a sky worth looking at. Everything felt so still and quiet, the lap of the waves against the ship making the only noise. A salty breeze tousled my hair and for a moment I was tempted to shift into crow shape just to feel what it would be like to ride it. The captain had expressly told the Iltirian passengers not to do so, something about us “land-dwellers” not knowing how to “bend to these ferocious sea winds,” but I think it may just be his superstition of not wanting too many ‘birds of ill omen” near his ship. Not very logical thinking if you ask me, but we all have our quirks.

It wasn’t too long after that the ship made it to Orilium. Thankfully by that time I could travel fairly well in the day without my blindfold, something I was extremely grateful for as the time to start the Novice Path was drawing near. We disembarked and made our way to the campsite near the entrance to the Path. A good amount of people were already there, setting up tents, getting a lay of the land, writing messages to loved ones should they not make it out. It was honestly depressing to think about, but it was a reality. There was no certainty that we were all going to make it out of here alive. Though we were all looking for adventure, for a chance to prove ourselves worthy, that all came with a price, one that some may have to pay in full.

I don’t think I find myself particularly worried. I think it’s more like I can’t allow for failure, so I can’t even accept the possibility of it. I can’t come to grips with the fact that I may very well die in the near future. Call it the reckless abandon of youth, but It just seems so impossible. That confidence will either be my greatest asset or my ruin. But enough of that! This is supposed to be exciting! That’s what readers like! A dragging down to earth is necessary in certain parts, but only so that we can rise up again!

Clearly the mood was starting to weigh heavily in the air, as an old elf came before us and delivered a well, I think it was intended to be a rousing speech about the merits of having danger in an adventure, which I suppose is true, but doesn’t alone soothe anyone’s worries. The song he performed afterwards did a lot more in stirring up the revelry of the crowd. It’s a song we all know, a song that was practically born in our minds at birth. In that moment, all those feelings of fear, doubt, and anxiety melted away, as we raised our voices as one and came together to celebrate the calm before the storm of our journey.

The night that followed was one I admit that I will be hard pressed to forget. The archivists of the Library are, surprisingly, not the most mirthful of people, so I’ve never actually been to anything resembling a party. It was very..loud to say the least. Lots of drinking, dancing, shenanigans, which I guess is normal? They don’t exactly have any academic material on this subject, though such a text would probably be very helpful to people like me. The utter pandemonium of it all was hard to navigate at first, but I think I managed to fit in rather well. I danced the best I could with some other Iltirians. I’m not much of a dancer, another thing they fail to teach you when you live at the Library, but no one pointed and laughed so I’ll take that as a triumph.

And that has been my journey up until now. Tomorrow I begin my adventure on the Novice Path, along with the others who want to prove their worth to the Academy. It’s hard to believe that the time has finally come, that I’m only one sleep away from the most important day of my life. Here’s hoping that it’s also not the last.

I mingled through the crowd, politely taking a drink now and then. I got a few names, had a couple worthwhile conversations, some a little one-sided, but I don’t think anyone’s eyes completely glazed over as I went on about the magical properties of certain gemstones. I’m not sure if I would call anyone friend just yet, though something in me desperately wants to. There’s still the fear that the people I met tonight may very well be gone tomorrow, but tonight was for enjoying this glorious moment, not dreading the future. So, the night passed thusly, with wine and song and the hope that tomorrow is a guarantee.

When the party died down and people retired to their tents, I rolled out a pack on the ground, completely content to sleep under the sky. The stars were shining bright as ever, the lovely constants of the sky, and now there was a slight sliver of moon to accompany them. Though there was little to see, she sure was beautiful.

I’m sorry, I really can’t end the log like that. So depressing. Uh, what else to end it on?

Well, the moment I wrote that a literal tumbleweed blew past me, perfectly summarizing the emptiness of my mind.

Okay, on that note, this log is complete.

#Djali #Magical Readathon #Novice Path #urban #dark meadow #iltirian #Novice Path Entrance #Orilium

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starlightsearches · 4 years

Note

Oh my god yas I’ve been waiting for these to open I love you writing so much and was wondering if you could do a Armitage hux x reader based on the song quartet at the ballet from Anastasia or at least the quote “Someone holds her safe and warm,Someone rescues her from the storm” thank you so much 💘💛🧡💖💓💗❤️💜❤️💗💞💕🧡💛💘🧡💛🧡💖💓💜❤️

Stay Alive

You are so sweet! I’m so glad you like the stuff I write; I’ve made this for you, hope you enjoy!! (I’ve never done a song prompt before! My initial concept for this was so sweet, and then . . . this happened instead. Hope you like it 🥺)

Requests are closed ✨

Armitage Hux x Reader

AN: I’m pretty much incapable of writing an actual oneshot apparently, so maybe we’ll see a return to this story later (if there’s any interest of course 😉)

Warnings: Kind of angsty. Canon-typical violence, threats of violence against the reader, mild allusions to sexual assault, and language.

You're running, running without thought—running without paying any mind to the burning in your lungs, your legs, your heart—because the second you stop, they'll find you. The streets that you’ve learned so well are empty, and for a moment you're overcome with a gripping panic, as if you're being pursued by more than just the men you've cheated. It feels like you're being chased by ghosts—ghosts of the people you've hurt, the lives you've ruined. The thought only makes you run faster. Your blaster is gone. There were three, maybe even four of them, if you counted right, if they didn’t have others in the shadows. You can’t fight them off, not on your own, so you'll have to hide and pray that they won't find you.

Commander Armitage Hux's informant is late, and it's freezing—little flakes of snow falling into the alley and dusting his hair, his shoulders. The blood is gone in his legs, and his fingers are stiff as he clenches them at his sides, the cold reaching through the leather of his gloves and digging its way straight to his bones. He's been waiting for more than an hour, but he can't return to the ship, not without something to show for all his efforts. He'll wait a few minutes longer.

A shiver runs through his body, and he shoves his hands under his arms, watching the clouds of his breath dissipate in the night air, hoping to hold on to the little amount of body heat he has left. He tells himself that it will be worth it, to lose a few fingers. This intel could lead to big things for him—another promotion, a Star Destroyer under his command. A way out. No, he'll wait as long as it takes. Even if it kills him.

His eyes flash to the mouth of the alley when he hears it—a scuffling sound, footsteps close by and he perks up, hoping his patience is about to be rewarded. He doesn't have time to feel surprise when your shadowy figure appears, running full speed, crashing into his arms with urgency, with need.

"Please, help me," there are tears in your eyes as you grasp at him, your hands moving desperately from his arms to his shoulders to the collar of his coat, pulling, grabbing, clutching at him. There's only a sliver of light by which he can see you, and it cuts your face into fragments. Your eyes, your jaw, your nose, flashing in and out of view in the moonlight. Even in pieces, he finds you beautiful, and he can't think of the words he has to say, words that would calm you. "Please, they're going to kill me," you sob, trembling against him, and Hux is overcome with a strange but not uncomfortable sensation. There's something familiar about you. Something vital. He needs to protect you.

It's not exactly what you were hoping for, but at least the stranger you've found at the end of the alley is a man of action. As soon as the words leave your mouth, he's moved you into the space behind himself, shielding you from the entrance with one arm. It's not a moment too soon, either. Your friends have arrived.

"There you are, sugar," the voice echoes against the darkness, and they appear, stepping into the black of the alley one by one, all of them looming much larger than your would-be protector, completely blocking the exit. You can't get a good look at him now, but you don’t think he’s much older than you are, and much less prepared for any kind of fight. Now both of you were going to die, and it would be your fault. Shit.

"I think you should leave," he says. His words are clipped and polished, an Imperial Basic accent that stands out, especially on a planet like this one, but his voice is steady and calm. Confident. He has no idea what he's dealing with. You can see him in profile in the dark, his shadow just slightly darker than all the blackness around him. He's got a soft, handsome air, a rich look, but his eyes are hard and serious, and you're forced to do a double-take. He's got the look of a killer in his eyes. The shiver that runs through you has nothing to do with the cold.

"This isn't your business, boy." It's Tyrie speaking, you can tell, and you watch him, watch as the shadowy form of his blade flies through the air before landing back in his open palm. You huddle closer behind the man in front of you, using his body as a shield. Tyrie won't kill him, not yet. Based on his accent and the material of his coat under your fingers, you can tell he's got more credits to his name than most people around here could even dream of. There would be a lot of questions if someone like him went missing, and you know that Tyrie knows this, too. "I'm asking you to leave, and I'll only do it once."

"What do you want with her?" Out of the corner of your eye, you see it. His hand is moving, glacially slow to his side, brushing the hem of his coat out of the way. You almost let out a gasp from the relief, before you catch yourself and smother it with your hand. He's got a blaster. You just pray that he's a good shot.

"That little thief stole from us," Braterr, the biggest of them, says, folding his arms over his chest, "and she's gonna pay us back, one way or another." The other men laugh, and your stomach reels with nausea. You had hoped they'd at least kill you quickly. The stranger has a grip on your arm, holding you in place, and it tightens. It's like a message, like he's saying I'll take care of it. You worry your lip between your teeth; you aren't used to letting someone else take care of anything, especially not when your life was on the line.

Tyrie steps forward, holding his blade aloft, and even in the darkness it glints. "Turn her over to us, we'll take-" The sound of his blaster hurts when it hits your ears, echoing around in the tight space, and the other men don't have a chance to turn and run before he's hit every single one of them, the mouth of the alley littered with bodies, the smouldering wounds in their chests glowing red. You're not looking at that though. You're too busy staring at the shiny First Order-issue blaster in his hand. At the insignia stitched onto the sleeve of his coat, illuminated by the fragmented light of the moon. You are so, incredibly fucked.

You had lost your blaster, but you still had your blade, and it's pressed to the delicate skin of his throat before he can even lower his weapon. You maneuver your way around him, pulling him closer to the entrance and into a small pool of light, keeping the blade where it is, setting your jaw and your eyes so he knows that you mean it. You finally get a good look at his face, and his expression is solemn, maybe even mildly annoyed, like getting killed in some dingy alley would only be a minor inconvenience.

"Drop it," you say, and he complies, his blaster clattering to the ground by your feet , and he raises his hands behind his head, staring you down. You keep your eyes on him, kicking it out of his reach. You knew better than to try and use it; those fuckers had all kinds of sensors to keep them from working in the wrong person's hands.

"I thought I recognised you," he murmurs, and his throat trembles against your blade, a thin sliver of blood appearing, the skin around it growing whiter, "you're a wanted woman."

"So I've been told." You know he's stalling, waiting for a chance to get the upper hand. You should get it over with, now, but you've already hesitated. It's unlike you. Besides, you know his plan. What could a few more minutes hurt? He might have information that you could use. "Where is the Order looking for me?"

"Kijimi, last I heard." That's good news. You're staying under their radar. Or, you had been, at least, but it seems that you've fucked that up now.

"It'd be a shame if they heard any different," you press the blade a little deeper, for emphasis, and he winces. You've never been known for having a conscience, but leaving him here to bleed out did seem pretty callous. He had saved your life. Maybe you could come to some kind of an understanding.

"I don't see why I would need to convince them otherwise," he responds, and you smile to yourself. How typical. Another cowardly officer; it's a miracle the First Order had lasted this long.

You relax only the slightest amount—that's all it takes before he's got you. Even as it's happening you're not sure how he does it, but suddenly the blade is out of your hand and he's got an arm around you, securing you in place with a grip much stronger than you would have guessed, the metal of your blade at your neck, the cold edge of it biting right at your pulse.

"Make it quick." You're not going to beg, or cry. Not going to let him see you sweat. This is what you get for being generous, for letting your guard down. This is what happens when you think you can trust someone.

Nothing happens. He's got your back to him, pressed up against him so that you can’t see his face, but you can feel his body heat whispering up against your skin beneath the layers you wear, too thin for cold like this. You soak up as much heat as you can, while you're still able to feel it. You wish you could have the sun on your skin, just one more time, but this will have to do.

"The Order wants you alive." Hux has decided to speak as little as possible. He's trying not to breathe, trying to keep still, trying very hard to think about anything else besides the feeling of your body against his. He has to focus. You could be very useful to him, more useful than his no-good informant, but he'd have to get you back to the ship first.

"I've got a set of binders, on my right. Reach back. Cuff yourself," he says, releasing one of your arms and pulling back on your neck, pressing the flat of the blade in deeper. The column of your throat falls into a streak of light, the muscles of your neck tensing as you stretch, but he forces himself to look away, to watch your hand as it fumbles at his side, as your fingers brush away the hem of his coat. He's sweating in his gloves.

"Do you always keep these on you?" There's a judgement in your voice, a hard, bitter kind of laughter as you secure one hand, then the other. You shift against him, moving with more force than necessary, broadcasting your anger, and Hux turns his eyes towards the sky, begging himself not to feel it.

"Yes," he says, spinning you around by your shoulder so that you face him, pressing you up against the wall as he checks the cuffs. He can breathe again, finally, but he avoids your gaze. He doesn't want to see the venom in your eyes.

You watch him retrieve his blaster from the floor of the alley, sure that now there's little point in trying to escape, alive at least. He was a damn good shot; you wouldn't make it too far, cuffs or no cuffs. You've been bested, and it makes your blood boil. You’ve always said that you’d rather be dead than beaten—so why don't you run?

"Do you know why they want me?" You sound weak when you ask it, and you bite at your lip, strong enough to draw blood and bring you back to your senses. He wasn’t going to tell you anything. He didn’t owe you anything. But you’ve wondered—ever since you were first tipped off to their search—you’ve wondered why they wanted you.

He watches you with careful eyes, and you wait for him to say something. His expression is guarded, but you think he might be considering sharing the information that you need. Instead, he rests a hand on your shoulder guiding you towards the mouth of the alley.

“I’m not sure,” he says quietly, staring straight ahead, and you look up, searching for any more information in his countenance, finding nothing. You try to be subtle as you look over your shoulder, hoping for some place to run, to hide. There was a chance, if you were fast enough, smart enough, maybe you could escape.

“You don’t have to worry,” he says, and you snap your head back, nervous that he’d caught onto your plan, “you’re safe.” A guilty feeling swims in your stomach; he thought that you were afraid of those men, of more of them coming after you, and you were thinking about how to get away from him. You want to hit yourself, but you satisfy the need by biting your lip again instead. You need to snap out of whatever this is, and fast. The first chance you get, you should take him out.

“Am I? Safe?” You ask instead, watching him. You deserve to know, after all, if you were just postponing the inevitable. He hesitates again. You should run.

“You’re safe with me,” he clarifies, and it doesn’t exactly make you feel better, but then again, it doesn’t make you feel worse.

Hux knows that he shouldn’t be making promises like this. He’s not sure what his father wants with you, after all, but he can’t forget the way that you looked at him in the alley—the tears in your eyes, the feeling of your hands as they held him so tightly in the cold dark. He wants to keep you safe, and he can’t just leave you here. No, he’s going to protect your enemies, and from his father, and if he’s lucky, he’ll manage to stay alive.

#armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #general hux x reader #general hux x you #general hux #armitage hux #general hux oneshot #armitage hux oneshot #my writing #requests #howlongtillidie #long post

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whitherliliesbloom · 3 years

Text

all that glitters

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #26 (free) - heartfelt ]

[ alphinaud/illya ] ★ [ 2,105 words ] ★ [ genshin impact au ]

one of several genshin impact aus i have where the scions of the seventh dawn are an international organization that recruits members from all around teyvat. mentions some canon genshin impact characters.

heartfelt - strongly felt sentiment and sincerity

on the first full moon of the lunar new year, liya has only a single selfish wish as she gazes up into the sea of lights.

Fontaine has ever been like a second home to Alphinaud - aside from the isle of Old Sharlayan and the nation of wisdom that was the endless fields of grassland in Sumeru. Whenever he looked out into the distant horizon where the vast blue of the ocean met the deep unknown that was the sky above and took a deep breath in to smell the salty undertones of the sea breeze intermingle with fresh silk and irises, he took comforting in knowing that he isn’t too far away from home - from the place where he grew up and spent his childhood in.

The same could not be said for his partner, who has opted to spend their rare free time during the evening sitting by the window sill of their inn room, head turned skyward as her eyes are fixed upon the sea of glittering lights and the full moon above, partially obscured by overhead clouds but not enough to hide it’s radiance.

And as the anemo breeze blew in through the open window and carried her silken white hair into the air like a fluttering veil, the iridescent moon rays catching upon her head like an angelic halo, Alphinaud could only frown at the aura of melancholy and longing that practically oozed out of the girl’s beautiful, yet lonely visage as she sat counting stars in silence.

In her hands she held a single glaze lily, the glistening blue petals swaying lightly in the breeze as if in a tranquil dance. And though Illya has never been one to enjoy opening up her innermost feelings to the people around her, it doesn’t take the archons to know that the girl was thinking of home.

Alphinaud admittedly knows very little about Liyue’s customs and traditions - or, to his own shame, about the girl he’s often partnered together with as a travel companion who hailed from said harbor of stone and fortune. He’s tried multiple times in the past to educate himself, but in between being held up with errands after errands in the headquarters of the Scions in Mondstadt and taking lengthy, time-consuming and exhausting trips to the other nations of Teyvat for intelligence collection has left him with little to no free time as it is.

There was never much of a need for frequent visits to Liyue anyway, aside from it being the most convenient port to use to travel to and from other nation states... and of course, Fatui activity that frequently needed monitoring - but really what nation wasn’t being plagued by the Fatui?

Liyue was self-governing, independent, the crown jewel of wealth and prosperity in all of Teyvat. There was very little that needed solving in Liyue, in comparison to the still ongoing, harsh Doctrine of the Vision Hunt decree still ongoing in Inazuma or the endlessly burning mountainous plains of fire that was Natlan.

And so he’s only ever had a handful of extended stays in the city of contracts, had little to no time at all to get to know the inhabitants of the nation, let alone befriend the people who were supposedly close with Illya - such as the little zombie girl who worked at Bubu pharmacy or the daughter of the Wanmin Restaurant owner, Xiangling.

Save for one, however, an unlikely visitor who saw the two of them off only a week ago as they boarded a ship from Liyue’s port to Fontaine - a man of golden eyes and a sturdy built that perfectly encompasses the strength and resilience of geo and stone.

The scions know him to be the geo archon, rex lapis or morax... but to the rest of the world, he is but a humble civilian named Zhongli.

He’d bid the pair safe travels, and asked the girl in particular if she would return home in time for the Lantern Rite festival, which is only met by a saddened frown and a lengthy silence from her in return, which prompted the man to quickly apologize before turning to leave.

Had it not been for Zhongli’s offhanded, innocent question, Alphinaud perhaps would have gone the entire trip not knowing what was causing Illya to feel so particularly moody - or worse, be completely ignorant to her state of mind in the first place.

He has heard of the Lantern Rite Festival and the brief summary of what it meant to Liyue and it’s inhabitants, but he knows not what it meant to Illya as a person or just how deeply the festival was sentimental to her - only that she refuses to speak of it and she’s rarely had the chance to participate ever since she became a member of the Scions.

But he’s determined this time - if not to get the young woman who has closed off her heart for so long to open but, then to at least fill the void within her even just a little. If he could not bring her home to see the sea of lights and wishes, then he will bring just a tiny sliver of the stars here in Fontaine to her instead.

After days of procuring information from an array of sources that he needed - from linkshell calls back to Tataru pleading her to gather intelligence within Liyue, to secret trips past bedtime to consult tomes within libraries, he’s finally gathered all that he needed within a single big paper bag that he pulls out from the security of the inn cabinet, and carefully moves over to the window sill and lets out a soft hum so as to not startle the young woman.

“Illya..?” He calls her name, and when she fails to hear and respond, he opts to be bolder.

“Liya.” He calls her by her Liyuen name, her birth name. A name that he knows reminds her of family and home, and the response is immediate.

Her shoulders stiffen, and she turns her head back to look up at the boy with widened, lavender violet eyes that twinkle as the stars do in the night, sheepishly tucking stray strands of her hair and her braid behind her short pointed ears.

“O-Oh... I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.” she apologizes, bowing her head frantically until Alphinaud shakes his head and grabs the bedside chair over, dragging it next to the window sill and sitting himself beside her.

“It’s alright. You were quite lost in thought.” the boy reassures, and the girl visibly relaxes, tucking the glaze lily in her hand closer to her chest.

“D-did... did you need something from me?”

The smile upon his face is gentle, apologetic as he opens the paper bag on his lap, and pulls out a set of paper meshes, wooden sticks and wicks that instantly sends Illya’s eyelids flying upwards in surprise and knowing.

“I know we’re not in Liyue... and by the time we return, the festival would be over but... I hoped to give you some way to participate even if you are not home. I’m aware that the materials aren’t exactly the same as the ones used in traditional xiao lanterns... and I could not even get my hands on a single plaustrite shard since we’re in Fontaine.. but-”

He jolts when he feels a warmth brush against his hand, looking down to see Illya’s hands gently clasping over his own, before taking a piece of wick and holding it up, inspecting it with an unreadable, troubled expression.

And yet her eyes glisten, she blinks back moisture from falling, quickly shaking her head to stop him from saying anymore before forcing a touched, sincere smile upon her face.

“Alphinaud... thank you.. That means a lot to me.”

A smile of relief graces his features, his navy blue eyes softening as he sets the emptied paper bag down beside him on the ground.

“Could you show me how to make a Xiao lantern? I’ve done my research on the basics, but I’m afraid it won’t compare to first hand experience.”

The night trickles by, minutes to hours passing them by slowly as they took their time and focused on the craft between their fingers, allowing the silence to fade into soft, idle chatter that soon broke out into melodic giggling from the girl as she recounts tales of home.

She spoke of folklore, she spoke of cuisine, she spoke of even the very geography of the land she called home - her love for that place dripping palpably from ever word she spoke, and every light brush upon the petals of the glaze lily that rested upon her lap.

And by the time they’ve finished their pair of lanterns, Alphinaud could only frown lightly at the result, the shoddy, basic materials that he had gathered not allowing for the intricate, detailed craftsmanship that was standard of real xiao lantern. Illya herself confirmed that a xiao lantern from Liyue was about ten times more beautiful.. and yet she gazed down at the ones in their hands with nothing but pure adoration swirling in her gentle eyes that would have nearly stolen Alphinaud’s breath away.

“We have to write our wishes on it now.” Illya states, as she is quick to uncap the marker in her hand before handing it to Alphinaud. “After we do that, the lantern will be complete and then we can release it into the sky.”

“That’s quite a unique tradition.” The boy states with a blink, taking the marker and staring blankly down at his lantern. “Is there a reason for that?”

“They say when you release your wishes written on a xiao lantern into the sky, the adepti will hear it and will make it come true.” Her response is soft, barely louder than a whisper as her gaze is stolen back by the starry night sky bathed in an unfamiliar blue hue that is a far cry from the warm golden glow of a sea of lights drifting into the wind... but not an unwelcomed sight, especially not with Alphinaud beside her. “It’s also a good way to honor the fallen - to remember the heroes who came before us and fought to make our dreams come true.”

Alphinaud knows not what the first full moon of the Lunar new year means to Illya on a personal level - only that it was near and dear to the very depths of her deep, painfully large and giving heart... and that more than anything else, he wished that she of all people would have all of her wishes come true. She deserves it more than anyone else in the world.

He knows what he wants to write on his lantern now, and quickly scribbles the words down upon the paper mesh before handing the marker over to Illya, who equally without hesitation writes down her wish onto her lantern.

“On the count of three, we’ll release it together, okay?” The girl turns to look at him, her hands gently clasped under her lantern as he does the same with his own, nodding in response with a gentle smile.

“Three... two... one.”

In an endlessly dark sky with endlessly bright stars that shined like glitters above their heads, two flickering lanterns begin to drift through the wind and into the sky, carrying the heartfelt wishes of two likeminded souls into the air. They glow like gold, warm and radiant against the blue backdrop, and Illya pictures the sound of fireworks bursting in her ear.

She can almost hear and smell it - smell the gunpowder, the freshly cooked Chopsuey and hear voices of her people echoing their awe into the night. And in her imagination, a large Mingxiao lantern gallops into the air, wild, pure and free as it led the sea of stars further and further towards Celestia.

But even with the silence and the scent of Iris and seawater permeating through the air, the atmosphere is nothing short of sweet and beautiful - just like it always is at home with her family.

“When we’re this far from Liyue.. I wonder if the adepti will hear our wishes.” Illya asks offhandedly, and she feels the warmth of Alphinaud’s hand fall gently upon her shoulders that she leans into.

“I’m certain they will.”

They spend the next several long moments just staring into the distant sky as their lanterns begin to drift out of sight, their respective wishes carved deep into their hearts and into the heavens long after the full moon has set and a new dawn arrives.

[ I wish Alphinaud eternal happiness ] [ I wish Illya eternal happiness ]

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #illya skawi #genshin impact au #we've come so far #fanfic #mine #I've been feeling really awful and just... not good lately #i relapsed really violently for the good majority of my day so #this didn't turn out quite the way I wanted it to #And it could have been a lot longer had i the strength but #I'm glad I at least got this idea out #since I've had it before ffxivwrite even began

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fluffybunnybadass · 4 years

Text

Worth More Than You Think

Fandom: Dragon Ball Xenoverse

Word count: 3300

Content warnings: brief flashback of a child being harmed, high emotions about past friendships, and uhhhh I don’t think there’s another but if there is, please hmu

Rating: uhhhh Teen?

Summary: It’s a restless night for the otherwise stoic Saiyan that had been deposited on Earth after two Time Patrollers found her. It’s clear to the human that has been trying to befriend her that something’s bothering them, but, as usual, they refuse to say anything. If only he could just get Chikori to talk...

This features two of my Xenoverse OCs, Chikori and Fallafal. Chikori is a she/they non-binary Saiyan, and Fallafal is an ordinary Human living with his family on their farm. This story takes place well before the events of Xenoverse 1, yet it is only one of the first ticks that the wheel of fate has taken in creating that tale.

---

Heyyyyy I had a high emotions and frustrations morning, a friend asked me to vent, and afterwards i just really felt like I could maybe work the remaining balance of feelings into a story. So this is, in the most vaguest way, based on actual events, but also twisted to fit within the framework of “canon”.

I’m testing out how to work in flux/dual pronoun usage while writing. It is intentional if you see both used for Chikori within the same sentence, and not at all laziness. Enjoy!

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

Chikori was restless tonight. The purple-haired Saiyan had found themselves a comfortable tree branch that oversaw a lake, with just enough clearing in the tree above it that she could see the stars and half-moon above. Her tail flicked and swished, irate, as thoughts surrounded them. A frustrated growl startled the nearby wildlife, before they resumed their nightly routine.

That was how Fallafal found them. He had gone looking when the Saiyan had disappeared after the meal they shared with his family, more quiet than usual. Sulky, almost. He came to stand under the tree, watching the brown tail above flick about like it was swatting flies. It reminded him of the farm's cat. He let out a sigh and ruffled his hair, not sure where to start with her.

“You know,” he began slowly, building up his courage to speak to the Saiyan. What if they didn't want to talk? What if they were somehow mad at him or his family, or felt like they were keeping her here because she had no where else to go in the galaxy? The Saiyan had been dumped on his family's property by some “Time Patrollers”, or whatever they called themselves, and the Saiyan was awfully quiet about its history. The Patrollers had said very little themselves, though he was certain the yellow one wanted to share with him everything that she? It? Could.

“You know,” he began again, swallowing his fears. “If sumthin's botherin' you, you could've just talk to me an' my family.” He paused. “Nuthin' good came of not telling anybody how you feel.”

The Saiyan didn't respond, but Fallafal could see her tail stop for a second, slowing down, with only the tip of it flicking in thoughtfulness.

“Aaaah.... I don't kno' how to help you if you're keepin' quiet. N-Not that you hafta talk!!!” he added in a panic. “I jus' know that, when my sis was feelin' bad growin' up, even when none of us had the answers to her problems, she felt much better sharin' than tryna hide it from us.”

There was a long pause. Fallafal sighed, about ready to turn in and go home, when the Saiyan finally spoke to him.

“......I'm not hiding anything,” they said in a level voice. “I'm thinking.”

Fallafal felt a sliver of relief that she was willing to talk to him, and sat under the tree to talk with her.

“That's great! Mind sharin' what's on yer mind?”

Another pause. There was a soft flicker in the tail, much like his cat when it was deciding something. Perhaps Saiyans were more like cats than monkeys...? But who was he to suggest that, when he didn't know anything about this alien species that had apparently gone extinct hundreds of years ago, the remnants of their bloodline so diluted amongst the humans and other species, that no one even knew about it.

“..... I'm remembering something.”

Fallafal fell silent. Chikori had barely shared any of her past with him. All he knew was that she was a member of some space army-- or had been--, and that she had no recollection of what happened to the ship she was aboard between being cryogenetically frozen and being picked up by the Patrollers. She had shown a few times her amazing, inhuman strength, and refused to go outside on certain nights, claiming it was for his and his family's safety. Whatever it was, if she was going to share it, it had to have been important.

“I'm listening, Chikori.”

The Saiyan kept quiet for a moment. Fallafal thought that maybe she had changed her mind about sharing. He watched her figure in the moonlight. Though it fell on her, he couldn't see her expression. But based on her tone and usual demeanor, he could hazard a guess that it was the same as always: placid.

“There was this... other Saiyan in my training unit on Planet Vegeta. This started before the Saiyan Army had been annexed into the Frieza Force.” She stopped.

Fallafal kept still, deciding to let Chikori speak at the pace she preferred.

The Saiyan looked down at the human sitting on the ground below her. His tousled brown hair, his green and brown clothes that almost blended into the planet's surface... She felt... uncertain about confiding in such a weak creature with such a low ki power, and yet... she was curious, as to what this low-leveled, hardly-worth-mentioning human could give her, if she told him this memory.

“I was upset with this new life we had created for ourselves. The planet had undergone what you would call a civil war. A selfish Saiyan had created an uprising, and slaughtered an entire race that I had known all my life to be peaceful. He declared himself King of the Saiyans when the battle was over, and many of the Saiyans left alive were of the sort to support him and agree.”

There was a lull as she carefully thought about her words. Fallafal half-wondered if that was it. Already that was a loaded history she had given him, but he sensed there was more to what they had been thinking about, so he kept quiet until they would tell him it was over.

“Any who opposed King Vegeta were left to work the mundane jobs or executed on the spot, per his orders.

“I had lost many Tuffle and Saiyan companions in that war that comprised my childhood. I was angry. I was hurt. But I wanted to live. So I kept silent, and bid my superiors the respect they demanded, and did not challenge anything. I knew I couldn't be the only Saiyan left alive who was struggling with this, but I did not seek them out. None of us could. It would only mean death if we had.”

The Saiyan wrapped their tail around themselves, the tip flicking softly against her body like a metronome.

“His name was Turnip. You would probably call him a friend; but I do not think any Saiyan left alive back then would have called each other that. He had commiserated with me initially about the training we were going under. It was difficult, moreso than the training during the war. Perhaps enough Saiyan lives had been lost that they were eager to fill in the space left behind with stronger ones. He seemed to enjoy my company, I think. I could tolerate him, out of all my peers.” There was a small exhale of air from her nose, as though what they had said was humorous. “I think he even preferred me over some of his companions, some days.

“I don't think he knew, but he helped me through a difficult transition. Perhaps we both did. I used to suspect that he was like me, but we never discussed it.” She let out a long exhale, sounding tired. “I apologize. I am not used to talking this much.”

Fallafal adjusted his seating for a more comfortable position.

“It's okay,” he said. “You're welcome to talk for as long as you want. I'm more than okay with it. I—” He cut himself off, catching what he was about to say, and cleared his throat. “I am more than willin' to listen, if you want to share.”

There was a pause.

“I don't, but I feel like a small part of me wants to. Is it unusual to want to indulge in that?”

“Not at all! Given where ya come from, I can understand a lot better why you're always so hesitant an' avoidant when it comes to talkin' 'bout yourself. A lot of army people are like that.”

Pause.

“I do not hesitate.”

“You do! You're hesitatin' right now!”

Chikori scowled at her human companion, wishing that there might be something she could throw at him from up here in this tree, but the branches of Earth's trees did not seem promising. And a ki blast would be far too much for such a low-level creature.

Fallafal fell over laughing, which only made her scowl more, until a soft growling could be heard coming from her.

“Okay, okay! I give! You're not hesitatin'! You're completely an' 100% eager to tell me this story.”

She frowned at him, recognizing the human dialect of sarcasm in his response. Her tail had unwound and began flicking in the air out of irritation.

“You do not need to be like that.”

“I'm sorry, I promise. I really do wanna hear your story, Chikori.”

The growing irritation in the Saiyan's spirit was hard to abate, but she had to remind herself that he was not her enemy; and that he would not take this information and use it against her. How could he? Unless he was a spy this entire time for the Frieza Force.... Capable of masking his ki and looking like a simple human being. No, she doubted that. He couldn't even see her moves when he had asked her to train him one day.

“Fine. I will continue.”

Fallafal sat back up and nodded, and the serious tone befell the both of them once more.

“He had been a good companion at first. But as time went on, and the Saiyan Army soon became part of the Frieza Force, I noticed a change in him. There was a change in the whole Army when Frieza happened. But I didn't notice it until I saw it in Turnip. He was enjoying the fighting a lot more. Those companions that he disliked, he grew to tolerate. And there was less time spent around me. I don't think he realized what had happened. I mentioned this to him, that there was a change once we became part of the Frieza Force, and that it felt far worse than what we went through on the whole from the Tuffle-Saiyan war.

“But he didn't think so.”

She fell silent. Her tail drooped over the edge of the branch, hands curled into fists as the frustration welled up once more.

“I wanted to punch him right then and there for that.”

Chikori let out a sudden guttural scream that had startled Fallafal, and she shot a ki blast at the moon. It went far away into the sky, dissipating into nothing as it reached the planet's atmosphere. She screamed again, beating her fist against the tree that she sat in. Leaves rustled, animals flew or skittered away. Those that were on the ground had scattered far away.

“I hated him so much for that!”

There was the sound of pain and anguish in her voice. Fallafal had stood up quickly, worried that Chikori might hurt someone, even herself. Beings with supernatural power, growing angry or getting hurt, was a recipe for concern in his mind. But more importantly-- he had never heard her have so much raw emotion in her voice in the short time that he knew her.

“Chikori!”

“What?!” she growled down at him. She felt the emotion well up again, the pain and resentment and hatred, yes, even hatred of this person that she had felt some level of comfort around. Hot moisture fell down her face, much like the sweat from the intense training she went through growing up, but it didn't taste like it. It almost felt like...

A flash went through her mind of her childhood. Of being seven, and seeing her Tuffle friend get taken away from her by the Saiyans that fought for King Vegeta. Her friend, dragged by the ankle as a soldier carelessly let their body scrape across the ground. Her friend's face as they screamed at her to help them, when she couldn't do anything herself.

She screamed again and shot a ki blast at the ground. It narrowly missed Fallafal. She quickly curled up into herself, her arms around her legs as she cried into her knees, tail wrapped warmly around her waist as though it was the only thing holding her in place.

Tears. She was crying tears again.

“Chikori, please... I hate sayin' this, but you need to calm down. You're goin' to hurt somethin', or sum'one, or even yourself. You got every right to be angry, but please don't destroy my planet or the forest for it.”

“I THOUGHT HE KNEW!!!” she screamed into her legs. “I THOUGH HE KNEW WHAT IT WAS LIKE!!!! I THOUGHT--!! I THOUGHT HE UNDERSTOOD!!!!” She felt so out of sorts that she didn't even know how to begin to explain herself, to put into words what she meant to say. It was all, just... so hopelessly helpless to her. That she had even given him a chance, only for him to turn around and become one of them...

“Chikori!” he shouted up at her. “Please...! I can't.... I can't help you from up there.”

At that, she stuck her head out, a nasty scowl on her face. “I never ASKED for your help!! Why?! Why do you keep sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?! Aren't you better off, not knowing these things?”

“Chikori...” Fallafal let out a long sigh. He put his hands on his hips, looked at the tree, and ruffled his hair. “Look, I 'aven't done this in a while, so jus' give me a moment.”

He took a deep breath, and exhaled. He charged at the tree, jumping onto it. He grunted as he climbed up, until he was on the nearest branch to where Chikori had curled themselves up.

“What-- What are you doing?”

“Look, I don't like talkin' to people on diff'rent grounds. Whether that's up high or way down low, neither's gonna help us understand one 'nother if we ain't on same ground, right?”

“I.... I don't quite follow, but I suppose...?”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head as he tried to think about the next part.

“Look, it's... It's hard, what you went through. Like, a lot of that. A LOT a lot. We might have to see 'bout getting' you to some psychatrist or sumthin',” he added in an aside.

Chikori had stopped her sniffling. She tilted her head, more confused than she needed to be. “What's-- what's that?”

“Uh, never you mind that. I, uh. I don't really know what to say, honestly. You been through a lot. An' you thought you had that with this Turnip guy, right? That you had a companion you could at least relate to, yea?” Chikori nodded slowly, unaware of where Fallafal was going with this. “Well. That's... That's tough. I ain't got anythin' else to say for it. But what can you do 'bout it? He's long bin dead, right?” Well, probably, he thought to himself. That whole Time Patrol kinda made it confusing for him. “So's he ain't gonna bother you anymore, right? You can't talk to him anymore. Yer just holdin' onto all of this anger, or you been doin' that, and I'm hopin' this helped ya figure some of that out or made it better, but I ain't got any tricks goin' forward to help you with it. I jus' know that talkin' about it makes it lighter. It doesn't make it go away, like my sister's always said, but it makes it easier and lighter sum'times, when that weight gits too heavy to carry.”

He looked over at Chikori, cautiously. She hadn't said anything while he spoke, and instead had been looking at him with intense interest. But the emotional state that she had worked herself up into seemed to be receding. Her breathing seemed calmer, and the tears that had fallen had become a trickle.

“A-are... are you good?” he asked cautiously. “'Cuz I mean, I don' mind carryin' that weight withya a bit longer.”

Chikori looked at him, slowly coming back to the calm state of mind that she had honed during her time in the two military forces that had plagued the universe. He didn't say anything to her, just watching her face for the tiniest chance that she might go one way or the other, and she didn't answer him immediately either. They both had kept quiet, until finally, she had found her calm.

“I think... I am fine, now,” she said slowly, as though her mouth was slowly getting the hang of words again.

“Whew, good. 'Cuz I didn' know what to do if you weren't.”

That had earned him a soft chuckle from the Saiyan.

“Wait-- Wait a min', did you-- did you jus' laugh?”

“I did no such thing.” There was the smallest hints of a smile at the corner of the Saiyan's lips. Fallafal leaned in a bit, squinting as the Saiyan looked back at him, concerned. He kept leaning over until he forgot that he was on a branch and nearly fell off, barely hanging by one hand. Without saying anything, Chikori got up and pulled him up so he could sit onto his branch again.

“Are you okay?”

“Who, me? Pfff. Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Happens all the time.” He waved off her concern. “But you? Are you fine, for sure?”

“For the second time, yes, Fallafal. I am fine.”

He let out a relieved sigh. “Whew, okay. Good. I'm glad. I... I got worried, there, for a sec'. 'Cuz you an' me... well, I don't know you too well, an--”

“Stop.” The Saiyan looked away. Her face was starting to warm from shame. “I don't like showing such weakness--”

“Hey. It's not weakness. I mean, I don't know if it's the same for you as it is for me, but I think it's okay to be a little human an' have some emotions every now an' then. I don't think anyone's going to come here and hurt you.”

The Saiyan didn't say anything in response to that. Then... “Did you want me to continue?”

“There's more?!”

“Well.... Not too much more.”

“I'm supposin' so, if you wanna.”

“I stopped talking to him after that. I was mad, irate for days. I apparently did better during training sessions at the time. But he never said anything. He never talked to me unless we had to, unless I approached him. When we finished our basic training, and had been assigned to different squadrons, I never saw him again. I don't know what happened to him. Sometimes... I hope he reflected on the past, and held immense regret. Especially for someone who had favoured me so much, at one point. At other times, before I arrived here, I wanted to find him and defeat him with my own two fists. But that wouldn't have served any purpose except to make him stronger.” At this, she stopped, taking note of Fallafal's sudden confused stare. She mirrored it with one of her own. “Were you not aware? Saiyans get stronger whenever they're pushed to death. It's what turned the tide during the long war. We had eventually become stronger than their numbers and technology. This is most likely the reason why Frieza had wanted us added to his armies so much. ...We were the perfect weapon for an evil bastard like him.”

“Ah. I see... So you never saw Turnip again?”

“No. Though, as I said, there are times where I wish I did. No doubt he would have used it for his own gain, though I suppose someone like you might call it his loss.”

“Well, you're right. It is his loss.”

“I will never understand that.”

“You don't hafta just yet. Maybe we'll get to that another time.”

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noirewrites · 4 years

Text

Shipping Jelsa

The Man of The Moon is an ardent Jelsa shipper. How does he convince his old friend, the Spirit of the Ahtohallan, to ship Jelsa too?

Fandom: Rise of the Guardians + Frozen

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Pairing: Jack Frost/Elsa and a pair of random ships we mnade on JHaven Discord Server

For @victortky and @ariddletobesolved

Ahtohallan knew one thing for sure.

Had Manny been on Earth, she would have frozen that round face of his and made it the best exhibit of her temple.

Then again, his face was too round to be showcased — it would just roll away and knock down the icy pillars, something she was sure she would regret.

It wasn’t everyday that one of your girls rebuilt your entire house in just a matter of 15 minutes, was it?

The Mother Spirit had been relaxing in her freshly-reconstructed home, the ice glimmering around beautifully as Nokk rested beside her. It was all calm and serene — Northuldra and Arendelle were at peace, the bridge between humans and magic finally restored. The Spirits were happy to get their missing member back in the family, and Nature was finally at peace.

No more siren cosplay, no more singing. Just peace, calm, serene —

A light, cold tingle on her cheeks had made Ahtohallan turn her icy-blue gaze to the entrance. A few autumn leaves fluttered in, as the cool air brushed against her face and tickled her again, her snow-white hair with blue highlights flowing lightly behind her. Giggling, the regal woman waved her pale hands lightly, whispering, “There, there Gale, I know you are happy to have found the final Spirit family member.”

The stray leaves rapidly circled her head for a moment before sifting out of the place. Sighing, Ahtohallan let her gaze travel around her home again, before settling herself down on the oh-so cool ice. Nokk moved over to wrap himself around her and with a soft smile, Ahtohallan rested her head on its belly, petting his mane as he whinnied in delight.

The soft neighs of Nokk, the light tingles from Gale and the overall peace had relaxed her so much that it wasn’t long before golden sand filtered into the glacier. With a happy smile, the Mother Spirit allowed the dream magic to work upon her, lulling her to a much-needed peaceful sleep.

A peaceful sleep that was interrupted by the stupid man with white and blonde hair who had decided to ruin her peaceful Spirit life.

It was first the strong beam of moonlight that hit her eyes. She merely turned around a bit, burying her face in Nokk’s soft and comfortably damp fur.

It hadn’t been two minutes of enjoying the new darkness before —

“Knock. KnockKnockKnock. Knock. ”

She ignored it, a soft sound of irritation escaping her lips.

“Knock. KnockKnockKnock. Knock. ” Came the sound again.

Taking in a deep breath, Ahtohallan sang slowly to herself.

“Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let it show— ”

Only to be interrupted by a cacophony.

“DO YOU WANNA BUILD A SNOWMMAANNNNNN?~~ ”

Letting out a nearly frustrated growl, the woman pushed herself up and glared at the platinum blonde man who peeked at her from the roof, his cheeky grin reflected in the glacier as multiple images.

“Your voice doesn’t match Anna’s at all, you know that right, Round Face?”

“Well then My Liege,” Manny chuckled, “ JUST LET ME INNNN~~ ”

“Ugh! Go away Manny!”

“SHOW YOURSELF GLACIER LAD— HEY! ”

Ahtohallan could feel Manny’s glare on her through the extra layer of ice she had added on the roof.

“It seems like you have been spending a lot of time with Dyn, haven’t you?” she teased him, a smirk on her face for she knew he couldn’t see her clearly — there was only a sliver of moonlight that was able to pass through the roof.

“Maybe I am,” came his sing-song voice, before it turned to a teasing lilt and Ahtohallan could imagine the smirk he wore. “I guess someone’s all jelly-jelly~~”

“I AM NOT! UGH!!” Ahtohallan nearly screamed, stomping her foot in frustration.

“Well, well, whatever,” Manny said nonchalantly, “Aren’t you being a lot in Liv’s company too, Glacier Lady?”

The Mother Spirit glared at the roof, attempting to burn a hole into it from her anger. However, knowing it wouldn’t work, she let out an exasperated sigh, waving her hands around to melt the additional layer of ice she had created not a few moments ago.

“I would rather prefer for you to state your business fast and scurry off to your weekly twirling around Earth, rather than eat my brains for your nightly snack. Come down here and then, let’s get this over with.”

Moonlight beamed into the icy premises of the glacier, and specks shimmered in it, slowly coalescing together to reveal the form of a tall man, his posture regal and wisdom shining on his visage.

Well, the wisdom lost its lustre thanks to that cheeky grin that was stretched on his lips.

Ahtohallan gawked for a minute, before lifting a shaking finger at the man, “You—you—”

“Yes me?” the man, Manny drawled, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

Ahtohallan took a deep breath, then nearly screamed, “WHY THE ICE ARE YOU IN AGNARR’S FORM?”

“Umm, ‘cause you look like Iduna?” he said, shrugging.

“But—But that’s how I actually look!” Ahtohallan said, clearly exasperated. “You are supposed to look like a tiny, round old man! Not like, like—”

“A dashing, handsome royalty?” Manny offered, smirking, only to sober up at the icy glare he received.

“UGH!” Ahtohallan harrumphed and stomped her foot. “You are just...just incorrigible!”

“Is that a compliment? I guess I will take it as a compliment.”

Ahtohallan facepalmed and then asked in a frustrated voice, “What are you here for again?”

“Oh right!” Manny said. “I heard you just got a female fifth spirit, one with ice powers?”

“I did. So? Is it wrong?”

“No! Everything you do is right, my liege,” he winked and then continued, “I have a male spirit, and what a funny coincidence that he has ice powers too! So, I was just going to propose that—”

“No.”

“But why?”

“Because your shipping attempts have always resulted in disastrous consequences, Manny.”

“I beg to differ! And I swear this ship would be the best!”

“And why do you think so?” Ahtohallan asked, checking her nails.

“Well, they have cryokinesis powers to start with.”

Ahtohallan looked up at the man, her eye twitching a bit. “So?”

“SO?” Manny said out loud, his jaw dropping open. “You ask so? C’mon Glacier Lady, they have freaking cryokinesis powers! As in ice powers! I-C-E ICE! Have these confines frosted that beautiful brain of yours? You should come to the Moon someday to get some fresh air!”

“Is that—” Ahtohallan spoke slowly, her voice dangerously low, “Is that some weird way of yours to ask me out?”

Manny started tapping his fingers nervously, “I guess?” he squeaked nervously before masking the embarrassing tone with a cough. “Well, that’s not the only reason I have for shipping them, you see.”

“Oh really?” The Mother Spirit raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. “Enlighten me then, my old friend.”

Furnishing a scroll from the inner pocket of his coat, Manny presented it to the Ice Spirit. She took it with confusion and opened it, her eyes going wide at the beautiful calligraphy etched onto the yellow parchment.

------------------------------------------ It’s a very long fic, so I am just going to link the AO3 site here! Plus, you can find the pact that Manny is talking about on this Tumblr post :D

#jelsa #jelsa for life #jelsaforever #crack #humor #jelsa2020 #jhaven prompts #jackelsa #jelsa fanfic

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skeletaldarling · 4 years

Text

Chase The Fire Away 7

More Than Daisies

AO3

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Summary: Remus and Patton test his powers a little bit more, followed by some Remy and Virgil being soft.

Ship: Eventual Intruality, Sleepxiety, little bit of Lomile

Word Count: 1347

Warnings: Food mention, swearing, vampires and witches, Remus Sanders, I don’t know if there’s anything else

“Okay, so we know you grow flowers and open lockers and stuff. But I think if we just try to move a bunch with your mind, some cool shit might go down.”

Patton nodded. He was sitting cross legged on his bedroom floor while Remus did a handstand against the wall.

“So how do I start?” questioned Patton.

“Hmm… turn the light off?”

Patton fought back a shudder as he remembered when he’d accidentally blown out the lightbulb on his first day with Emile and Logan. “No… no, something else. Please.”

“Uh… move that cushion closer with your mind.”

“Can I do that?”

Remus scoffed. “We don’t know. That’s the fucking point, pancake.”

“Right.” Patton took a deep breath and focused on the cushion that had fallen off his bed. He held his breath for a couple of seconds before exhaling steadily and willing the cushion drag itself closer.

It took a couple of tries, and a lot of Remus listing cute things Patton did to encourage him before the cushion moved a couple of inches. Patton squealed and Remus came down from another handstand to push Patton to the floor in a hug.

They laughed from the carpet as they collapsed into a pile of hugs and celebrations. Patton found himself flat on the floor with Remus on top of him, grinning as the pair tried to catch their breath.

Patton watched Remus’s eyes. They were their usual glittering grey and Patton had trouble not getting lost in the bright smile that covered Remus’s face. Patton’s eyes flickered down to Remus’s lips for a second too long.

Remus pulled back away painfully slowly and sat on his heels. He cleared his throat. “Um… maybe I should go-”

“No.” Patton blushed as he realised how abrupt that sounded. “I um… you could stay for dinner?”

“Is that okay?”

“Definitely,” assured Patton. The witch felt his cheeks go even pinker but he did his best to ignore it. He crossed his legs and shuffled closer. “I want you to stay.”

Patton could’ve been imagining it but he could swear that Remus was getting a little pink as well.

“Good.” Remus said, his voice unusually soft. “I’d like to.”

They stared at each other again before Patton blinked and looked away. Just tell him you like him!

Patton almost scoffed out loud at the thought but instead he stood up. “I’m gonna tell my dad you’re staying for dinner.”

“Cool. I’ll come!”

They hopped down the stairs together and found Logan in the kitchen where he was looking through the fridge. “Hello, boys.”

“Hi, Papa.” Patton greeted. “Can Remus stay for dinner?”

“Of course. Just make sure his parents are aware too.” Logan pulled some things from the fridge. “I’m making pizza if you two want to help.”

Patton perked up and turned to look at Remus. “You want to? It’s fun.”

“Yeah, sounds cool.”

Patton beamed and dragged him over to wash their hands while Logan prepared the bases for them. They actually made the pies pretty quickly, and they were sitting at the counter, playing tic-tac-toe when they were startled by Emile greeting them suddenly.

Remus jumped and Patton nearly fell off his chair with a yelp. He heard something pop behind him.

Logan frowned. “The dining room lightbulb just blew out,” he muttered.

Emile stepped over to Patton. “Sorry, pumpkin. Did I give you a fright?”

Patton flushed. “Maybe.”

Emile kissed the top of his head, “sorry again.” He pulled back and went into the kitchen. “Hey, Remus.”

“Hi, Emile.”

Logan pulled Emile over by the waist and kissed him quickly. “Hi,” he murmured. He hugged him close. “How was work?”

“It was very good,” Emile grinned and Logan recognised it as his ‘patients made some amazing progress today that I can’t talk about but I’m very happy’ smile. The vampire rubbed his arms. “Good.”

After dinner, Remus had to go home. Patton walked him down the path to the gate before turning to fully face him. “We could hang out again tomorrow?”

“Obviously,” Remus grinned. “You moved a fucking pillow, pancake. With your motherfucking mind.”

Patton looked down at his feet with a blush. “I also broke a lightbulb. Again.”

“You’ve done that before?” Remus questioned. He looked so excited at the thought.

“When I first got here, yeah.” Patton shrugged, refusing to meet Remus’s gaze. He took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. I just need to try to figure out my abilities… without accidentally breaking lights. And opening lockers.”

Remus laughed. He tilted Patton’s chin up to meet his eyes and ran his thumb over Patton’s cheekbone. The witch froze and followed Remus’s movements, his lips quirked up in a faint smile as Remus swept some hair behind his ear.

“G’night, pancake.” Remus murmured. He turned on his heel and walked off down the street. He skipped into a cartwheel before continuing his walk.

Patton stood, staring at where he’d been standing. He swallowed and blinked himself back into reality. “Bye, Ree.” he whispered.

+++

Remy wiped down the counter as Virgil flipped the open sign over. “Are we done?”

“Almost, babe.”

Virgil waited (semi) patiently for Remy to finish cleaning before they linked hands and left together.

Remy lifted their arms up and got his fiance to twirl him around. He fell back into Virgil who simply scooped him up and set him on his feet steadily. The witch laughed, the sound of his voice echoing pleasantly off the damp pavement. It had rained that day and although it was clearer now, the street was littered with puddles. Virgil smiled fondly as Remy danced around him.

The street was empty, it was almost midnight and the small sliver of a moon wasn’t providing them with much light. The streetlights were glowing golden off the road below them, giving the couple just enough guidance to stay safe. Not that they needed much help.

Virgil looked around to check they were alone in the night before letting himself fully relax into Remy’s dancing.

“Dad thinks there’s another witch in town.” Remy said.

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Dunno,” Remy pushed his sunglasses up and jumped into a puddle, causing a big splash. “He said that kid who works in his store smelt like he’d been near witchcraft.”

“But he’s not the witch?”

“Apparently not,” Remy spun around and leaped forward into a different puddle, he made an even bigger mess of his jeans and grinned triumphantly.

Virgil just sighed and opened his arms, letting Remy jump into them so he could carry him a little further. “You’re a menace to society.”

“You love me for it.”

Virgil kissed him with a low chuckle. “That I do.”

“Go hop in that puddle!”

“Nope.”

“Then let me down and I will.” Remy wriggled in his fiance’s arms.

Virgil smirked and tightened his arms around the trouble-making witch. He only laughed as Remy tried to escape. Remy squawked and poked Virgil’s cheek. “You’re mean!”

The vampire bared his fangs with a hiss and Remy pouted overdramatically and fell limp in Virgil’s arms. “Mean vampire.” he muttered.

Virgil kept walking, enjoying Remy’s whinging more than he probably should have. They were both quiet for a bit before Virgil spoke again. “So do you believe your dad?”

“About the witch thing?”

“Yeah.”

Remy hummed in thought. “I don’t really know. I mean I trust Dad but, like… who would it even be? This town isn’t that big, we know most of them.”

“I guess.” Virgil rubbed his thumb back and forth on Remy’s arm and watched him yawn. “We’re almost home, Rem.”

Remy closed his eyes and snuggled into the vampire’s chest. “Go fast.” he requested.

“Fast fast?”

“Fast fast.”

Virgil adjusted the sleepy witch and pulled him closer to his chest. “Alright, babe. Hold tight.”

He zipped down the street and reached their house in just over a minute. When he slowed to a halt, Remy was grinning like a toddler. “I love you.” He leaned up to kiss Virgil’s jaw. “And I love your superspeed.”

“I love you too, Rem.”

Taglist:

@sander-sideblog , @korsaromantic66

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basil-touche · 4 years

Note

For the character meme! Usagi Tsukino and Jigen Daisuke!

Right, here we go!

Usagi Tsukino

How I feel about this character

I love her. A lot. Started to watch this series when I was slightly younger than her and became obsessed with the anime (albeit with the terrible dub).

She's just so kind and friend shaped. She's the type of person who would leave no one behind and is devastated when she can't save everyone even her enemies (well in the anime at least). I was a pretty lonely kid so I clung to her as a sort of comfort character.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

You know, I don't really ship her much with other characters. Sure I ship her with mamoru (they have their really cute goofy moments) and I love fanart where she's in a poly relationship with the inner senshi, but I don't actively go looking for it...

My non-romantic OTP for this character

All of her friendships in this series are just too good, it's hard to choose.

Usagi's biggest skill is being able to befriend anyone and bring them out of their shell which is especially prevalent with her and Ami. Ami is just incredibly patient with her and is the kindest to Usagi at all times (the only one of the Inner Senshi who doesn't roast Usagi at every opportunity, I do find the roasting pretty funny though).

The only episode where it's only Ami and Usagi is really sweet too. I wish there were a few more episodes of just them too...

My unpopular opinion about this character

I'm not sure what opinion of her would be unpopular. Perhaps the headcanon I have where Usagi secretly is a bit unhappy with knowing her entire future, that she can't really forge her own path in a sense.

Not to say she hates her future, just that her destiny is sealed and she can't do anything to change it if she wanted to.

One thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon

Kinda wish Usagi got to learn more about the Moon Kingdom and her mother. It would be cool if she found out that her mother wasn't the pure goddess everyone saw her as (a la Rose Quartz in Steven Universe).

I'm thinking of how in the anime Queen Serenity sealed Queen Nehelenia in her mirror forever, did she know Nehelenia had lost her mind and needed help, but refused to help? How would Usagi react to that?

It would also be pretty great if Usagi found out the origins of the Sliver Millennium, we get a hint of that at the end of the manga but not much (I actually have a whole storyline about it that will probably never leave my head).

I would love it if she was shown to be pretty shaken up by the events of the series, showing PTSD symptoms and learning to develop healthy coping methods (basically just give me the hurt/comfort content I crave).

Daisuke Jigen

How I feel about this character

I love this grouchy ass. He's my third favourite out of the main cast and he has one of the best designs to boot. Normally the voice of reason to Lupin's hectic personality but I do love it when he's equally a dumbass.

He genuinely looks really cool when using firearms as well (for a guy who covers his eyes with his hat).

All the people I ship romantically with this character

My fave ship with him is with Goemon (they have similar personalities, but I do love the idea of Jigen getting a rise out of Goemon too) but I'm not picky about the other ships. Big fan of the Thief OT4 too.

The only ship I'm not big on is him and Fujiko (mainly as I find them at each others throats more entertaining).

My non-romantic OTP for this character

While I may reblog a lot of ship art of him and Lupin, I actually enjoy them more as best buds. Like when they both act positively silly during heists. Although, Jigen getting annoyed with Lupin's antics and being tired of his shit never gets old.

My unpopular opinion about this character

His design in Cagliostro is his best design in the series (followed by part 1). Also, his design in the new CGI film is the weakest of the main cast for that film (not enough beard and they made him too young, the whole sexy angle they went for doesn't do anything for me for obvious reasons).

One thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon

I just wish the writers could just let him be gay. There's been so many incidents in the series where the writers try to pair him up with women and it feels so incredibly forced.

Or when there's one off male characters from his past and the writers are like "Nah, this is clearly just guys being dudes". I mean really, I get so many gay vibes from Jigen it's just laughable (and disappointing) when the writers are cowards, which is pretty much all the time. :/

#i'm going to put this in the character tags just so i can find it again #asks #rainy-circle #sailor moon #usagi tsukino #lupin iii #jigen daisuke #ask meme #basil's notes

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