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takuyakistall · 3 years

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Don't get caught! | Riddle Rosehearts

Synopsis: While visiting Heartslabyul, you couldn't help but want to be a hedgehog after seeing the way Riddle is so fond of them and spoils them. But be careful for what you wish for! It might just come true.

Note: This was a request but the ask was too long so I just posted this on its own. I had fun writing this! It was a very cute idea and got carried away so this turned out longer than expected, I hope you enjoy it!

You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not. You weren’t even sure if this plan would work but Trey and the other Heartslabyul first years insisted that it was going to work—or at least, they’ll try to make it a success. You had absentmindedly let out a random thought a few days about your hair, saying how curious you are about how you would look like in different hair colours and hairstyles. Trey’s unique magic immediately came into your mind, Doodle Suit, and you couldn’t help but comment on how convenient it would be if it could temporarily overwrite your appearance.

You felt bad for asking Trey a favour so suddenly but much to your surprise, he indulged you and said that it isn’t any problem. Of course, you knew nothing about the way his magic works and if it really isn’t a problem to him. Though you decided to trust his words and agreed to meet up with him in the Heartslabyul Dorm during the weekends. Grim, Ace and Deuce tagged along behind you as you entered the mirror to the dorm. Ace and Deuce wanted to be a little bit extra (or so you thought) and picked you up from your dorm.

The smell of freshly painted roses was in the air as your eyes adjusted to the sudden sunlight. You relished in the sight of the rose hedges lined up and the half-painted roses hanging from them, a few drops of red paint dripping to the green grass. The empty cans of red paint here and there as you walked through the stone path to the main building. You caught a few glimpses of a few students scrambling to their feet as they picked up a brush and started painting the roses.

Behind them, you could barely make out a familiar shade of red and a heart-shaped ahoge. You quickly turned to Ace, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Wait, where are we headed?” You asked them as Grim climbed up your shoulder.

“To the lounge, or Trey’s room. Whatever works.” Ace answered half-heartedly as he pushed the door open and scanned the room full of students for the green-haired vice dorm leader.

“Nevermind, we’re going to his room.”

Saying the hallways of Heartslabyul was confusing is a big understatement. The twists and turns of the halls more or less made you dizzy just from looking at it. The fact that you don’t know the actual way to Trey’s room made it harder for you to navigate where you were headed to. Deuce grabbed the hem of your sleeve when you were about to make a turn, whispering to you about how his room was still up ahead. Grim had long gotten off your shoulder once he realized that he might get lost with you.

“Good grief… I don’t even have any idea about what colour I should go with first.” You sighed as you spotted a window that gave you a view of the rose maze. The countless green hedges adorned with white roses. Have they not painted this part of the maze yet? You paid it little mind as your eyes wandered to the small cage placed outside and the tiny creatures inside.

Hedgehogs?

Green, pink, and blue ones were all scattered and rolling around in the cage. You couldn’t get a good view but it seemed like someone was giving them food right now. You stopped in your tracks when you realized it was none other than the dorm leader who was doing it. He dusted his hands and stared at the small blobs of colour inside the cage. You couldn’t see it clearly but you saw him open his mouth as a small smile appeared on his face. You found it a bit cute—cute how caring he seems to get when it comes to them.

It must be nice to be a spoiled hedgehog under Riddle’s care huh…

You shook your head, the tips of your ears growing hotter as you told yourself off about having such weird thoughts. Your head snapped back to where Ace and Deuce originally were but only to find them out of sight.

You felt panic rise in your throat as you looked left and right, your eyes searching for the familiar figures. You scolded yourself, regretting getting distracted by that redhead you seem to be so enchanted by. You wandered around the hallway, the knot in your throat growing tighter as you prayed that you won’t get lost.

“Geez! Just how big is this place?” You leaned against the window’s ledge as you let out a small pant. You’ve been walking around the dorm for what felt like hours now but you found yourself in the same place as before—by the window where you watched Riddle tend to the hedgehogs as you sighed.

“Um, excuse me…” The sudden voice behind your back made you jump in place a little. You quickly turned around and was met with a male student with brown hair. Your tense muscles visibly relaxed.

Finally! There was someone you could ask. You opened your mouth slightly to ask but before a single word could be formed—he asked you an unexpected question. He caught sight of the scene you were staring at before his involvement.

“Oh! Were you watching the Dorm Head?” Dense as a rock. The student didn’t think twice before asking this question, his eyes not registering the way your eyes widened slightly and your stance stiffened. You kept silent.

“Hehe, it seems like he’s taking care of the hedgehogs personally.” He mentioned, his voice laced with the faintest bit of admiration when he stared at the scene beside you. You tried to shrug it off but the curiosity inside you couldn’t stay silent any longer.

“...Is it anything special? Riddle taking care of them personally, I mean.”

“Eh? Well… no, not really. It’s just that he really likes them, so he tends to spoil them whenever he’s on duty.”

“Oh, is that so?” You tried looking the other way, trying to keep the nonchalant tone. But the moment you looked away—you could feel a small smile creeping up your face.

Cute.

You shook your head before you got carried away by any other thoughts and turned to the student. You need to do what you came here for!

“Oh, by the way, do you know how to get to Trey’s room?”

“Eh?”

“What the hell took you so long!?” Ace was the first one to greet you with his fist meeting your head without any warning. You winced a bit, clutching your head and fought back with your words.

“It was your fault for walking too fast!”

“Hah? Didn’t we warn you to keep close to us?”

“You said nothing about that!”

“Oh.” Ace fell silent. The corner of his lips suddenly curling up, as if a realization struck him.

“Haha! Don’t mind, everyone makes mistakes right?” There was nothing stronger than the feeling of wanting to slap the grin off his face right now. Had it not been for Deuce trying to keep the peace between you, you weren’t sure if you could've held yourself back.

“Moving on,” Deuce placed a hand over your shoulder. “Trey-senpai’s room is just up ahead. Don’t lose sight of us again, alright?”

It was hard to navigate yourself around the dorm. If there was one crucial thing they hadn’t told you about the dorm, it was the fact that if you weren’t a Heartslabyul student or school faculty, you were bound to get lost amidst the twists and turns. But in their defense, they didn’t expect you to get distracted so easily. You nodded as you followed behind the duo once again.

After a minute or two, you found yourself face-to-face with Trey in front of his dorm room. That’s when you realized you haven’t thought about what colour you’d like after getting lost but your thoughts were cut off when Trey suddenly spoke up.

“Oh, you guys are here. You were a bit late, did you run into some trouble?” He asked as he urged you three (four if you’re counting Grim) into his room.

“(Y/N) got lost~!” Ace chirped in a singsong voice as he threw his arms back behind his head.

“Eh, really? Be more careful next time, you’re lucky you were found quickly—otherwise, who knows how long you’d be stuck there.” The closed-eyed smile on his face made his terrifying words seem normal. You wondered if there were previous cases that went way worse than what you went through. You let out a relieved sigh inside your head, thanking the student that found you.

“Then, let’s make this quick.” Trey guided you to a chair, dragging you gently by the wrist and made you sit there as Ace, Deuce, and Grim stood beside you. Their growing curiosity couldn’t be masked.

His instructions were clear enough. He said that you should try to paint an image inside your head. Envision what you would like to look like while closing your eyes and then he’ll activate his unique magic. He also mentioned that it would only last 24 hours or shorter if interfered with stronger magic and that he can revert the spell after a certain period if time just in case you wanted to remove it quicker.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to paint an image of yourself you’d like to see.

“Ready? I’ll start now.”

You thought of your favourite colour, envisioning yourself with that certain hair colour. Wondering if Riddle would like it if he saw it. Oh, maybe if you were a (F/C) coloured hedgehog, he might find you cute!

“Doodle Suit!”

A small puff of smoke appeared just right after Trey finished his incantation. You felt a bit groggy and weird, was it supposed to feel like this? You opened your eyes, your vision adjusting to the sudden light until you realized the situation you were in. Everything seemed a hundred times bigger than they usually were and everyone inside the room seemed to have grown bigger. Everyone except you.

You felt so small.

“Eh!? Trey-senpai, where did they go?” The panic in Ace’s voice was unlike him. But Deuce was even more panicked than him, he thought that maybe they messed up and you disappeared for good. Grim was looking frantically everywhere.

You wanted to shout out. Tell them that you were still here but oddly enough, instead of a voice, a very weird sound came out of your mouth. The room froze when they heard it. Trey was the first one to spot you, a nervous chuckle slipping from his mouth as he held your small body up.

“It seems like your friend… turned into a hedgehog.”

Eh?

Eh!?

You messed up. Countless thoughts swirled rapidly at dangerous speeds as you thought about what could’ve gone wrong. You swore you did his instructions properly, you thought of what you wanted to look like and—

At the last minute, you thought about hedgehogs. That’s what went wrong. You wanted to bury your face into your hands but your new incredibly short four legs couldn’t even reach your face. This was a new level of embarrassment, you just wished that this was all a bad dream. You lied down flat on Trey’s palm, hiding your face from everyone as you heard Ace barely being able to contain his laughter.

“Pfft—” He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to tell himself not to laugh but the situation made it hard for him to follow his instructions. Deuce, on the other hand, was crouching down while clutching his stomach—trying to keep his laughter as silent as possible. Grim had an indifferent expression before he approached you. He scaled your size compared to him and that’s when he lost it.

If you could speak, you would’ve told them to cut it out but much to your misfortune, you were left to make weird noises hedgehogs made. And if you were to make sounds like that, you were pretty much sure that they would laugh harder at you.

“Oh man, this is gold! I can’t believe you turned into a hedgehog.” Ace let out, that stupid grin on his face wider than ever.

“Though that does make me wonder how you managed to think about hedgehogs.” Deuce crossed his arms and pondered, finally calming down. Before he could dive deeper into his thoughts, Trey interjected.

“That isn’t important right now. We better think of what to do with your friend.”

“Trey-senpai, can’t you just overwrite it with your unique magic?” Deuce asked him.

“Unfortunately, it’s going to take a while before I can use my magic on them again. We need to put them somewhere safe for a while, can one of you keep them with you or do you know a place we can leave them?”

“Well, how about…”

“Hup! Off you go!” You hopped off Ace’s hand into the small cage he pushed you into. You felt yourself tense up when you were surrounded by your fellow small creatures, wondering if it was alright for you to sneak in like this. Ace assured Deuce that no one would notice an extra hedgehog inside the cage and decided that it was alright for you to stay there.

You had your doubts and troubles about this course of action but what can you do except comply? Your fate was temporarily in their hands—you were completely helpless. You just stayed behind as you watched Ace, Deuce, and Grim fade into the distance as they walked further and further away.

You looked around, trying to find something you can entertain yourself with but only to be met with immeasurable disappointment when you found out there was absolutely nothing you could do except eat, drink, or sleep. What’s worse is that you don’t know how long you were going to be here. You lied down on your stomach as you stared into space, a sudden wave of tiredness came over you as you felt your eyelids close.

Perhaps a short nap wouldn’t hurt.

You woke up to the heavy weight that rested over your body, you felt like you were being squeezed as a surge of panic took over you. You looked up to see that a green hedgehog was sleeping over you, it looked so comfortable that you felt bad for suddenly moving from your place. You couldn’t stay like this—you wanted to get out! You wished that Ace and Deuce just brought you with them even if it meant that they would probably get told off by Riddle for bringing out a hedgehog outside croquet matches.

“Hm? How strange… did I count correctly?” The sudden voice made you jump in your place, eyes darting everywhere to find out where it came from.

Wine red hair and slate grey eyes. There was no mistaking it—the voice belonged to none other than Riddle Rosehearts, the Dorm Leader of Heartslabyul. Confused, you wondered why he was still here. Didn’t his duty end a while ago? There was no reason for him to check up on the hedgehogs again!

“There’s an extra one?” His eyes shifted to you and you felt your blood run cold. How in the world did he know it was you out of everyone in the cage? You needed to think of something, quick. Who knows what he might do to you? Throw you out? Certainly, he wouldn’t do that… right?

“Don’t be scared. I won’t harm you, I promise.” Riddle’s gentle voice as he reassured you made you feel safe. You stared at his outstretched arm as a small smile appeared on his face and you couldn’t help but willingly hop into his palm. He brought you closer until you were on eye level with him. His grey eyes staring at you so intensely, you almost let out a squeak.

“Now then, we just have to find out who put you here.” He placed you on his shoulder and you felt the sudden panic sink in. You were in for a lot of trouble! You hadn’t expected Riddle to notice the extra hedgehog and you didn’t even expect him to come over in the first place. You cursed Ace and Deuce inside your head for leaving you there and expecting everything to sail smoothly.

If Riddle found out what happened, you were screwed. The best course of action you chose was to do your best to act like a normal hedgehog. That should be easy enough, right? Wrong! You didn’t know anything about how they acted and that fact alone made you declare this operation a failure.

Riddle walked away from the gardens and into the dorm building, your grip on his clothes tight because you were afraid of falling. Riddle felt the sudden shift on his shoulder and barely felt your claws ghosting over his clothes. He thought it was a bit strange, were you afraid of heights? But he paid it little to no mind as he continued walking and pushed open the door.

The students sitting in the common room suddenly stiffened up—they were first years and it was only natural that they were afraid of the strict Riddle Rosehearts. They stood up and greeted Riddle almost immediately, like soldiers.

"D-Dorm Leader!"

“Calm down, I’m not here to reprimand you or anything.” Riddle was irked at the way they visibly relaxed after saying that but he didn’t bother bringing it up. He scooted closer to them as he showed them the hedgehog on his shoulder.

“Do you know where this came from?”

Of course, the students could barely understand his question. They didn’t know the hedgehog was an extra head inside the cage and assumed that it was a normal hedgehog, so they answered:

“That’s a hedgehog, Riddle-senpai. It came from the cage they’re being kept in.”

“Of course I know that, I meant for this one specifically! It wasn’t here before.”

“M-Maybe it came from the forest and got lost?”

“It’s likely but how would it get inside the cage? That means a human probably put it in there.”

“Well… we don’t know.”

Riddle let out a sigh, trying to keep it together. It was going to be hard for him to find the culprit so he thought, just for a second, that maybe he should just let it stay inside the dorm. It wasn’t as if the world would end if he did, after all. But something deep inside his guts told him that he shouldn’t let go of this so easily. He dismissed the students and went to his room as he picked you up from his shoulder and into his palms.

“Where in the world did you come from…?” He brought you closer to his face and you felt like your heart was about to stop. His eyes widened as he made a sudden discovery. Magic? He felt the faintest bit of magic coming from you and that was enough to tell him that he should get to the bottom of this. But first—he needed an afternoon snack inside his room. After all, a queen should never make do without tea and snacks.

There was nothing more relaxing than having his favourite blend of tea in the afternoon accompanied by little snacks and biscuits that were served in little platters and teacups adorned with rose designs. It was to be expected as he was stuck in a dorm that was founded by the Queen of Hearts, it wasn't as if Riddle minded though—in fact, he grew fond of it. Daintily, he picked up his fork and took a small piece of his strawberry tart before putting it inside his mouth. Relishing in the burst of flavours that bloomed inside his mouth before turning his gaze to the small creature crawling on the table.

If you were already nervous back then, you didn't know how much more nervous you are now. You felt bad for feeling like you're deceiving him but at the same time, it wasn't as if you had a choice at all! Pushed into this seemingly hopeless situation, you wondered what would happen if somehow you transformed back into your original body right now. You shook your head and made yourself stray away from those thoughts—they never tend to end well once you think about them.

You tried distracting yourself by looking around the table and a certain snack caught your eye. You slowly made your way to it, your little feet pitter-pattering against the wooden material. Strawberry shortcake. Surely you were a tiny bit hungry after everything that occurred and not once did you get the chance to sit down and eat since you refused to eat the same food the other hedgehogs in the cage ate. You couldn’t help but look longingly at the small platter.

Riddle stopped halfway when he was about to take another bite out of his tart as he caught sight of you. Now, he wasn’t well-versed in the language of hedgehogs but it didn’t take an idiot to realize that you were hungry. He was a sucker for the rules of the Queen of Hearts but he wasn’t heartless. There was no harm in feeding you a little bit of that cake, right?

“Hm,” he contemplated for a split second, “just one small piece, okay?”

He took a small piece with his fork and nudged it towards you, expecting you to eat it. It took you a few seconds to understand what’s going on. Riddle, of all people, was feeding you. You didn’t know if you should be happy or not since you were in your hedgehog form but once you thought about it—didn’t you say earlier that it must be nice being a hedgehog spoiled by Riddle? Did the Great Seven up above hear you and decided to grant your wish?

Nonetheless, you took this as an opportunity. Who knows when you’ll get this close to Riddle ever again. You tasted the cake, eyes lighting up as you felt the sweetness of the frosting spread inside your mouth. You quickly took another bite until you finished everything with a content look. Riddle propped his elbow against the table and rested his chin on the center of his palm, looking at you with gentle eyes.

"...Somehow you remind me of a certain person." Riddle suddenly spoke up, his tone wary as he squinted at your figure. Your actions suddenly became more languid as you realized that perhaps the root of his suspicion was because of your erratic movements.

Surely he doesn't know it's me, right…!?

"(Y/N)," you froze up. "You remind me of them for some reason."

You went through the possible list of reasons how he came to that conclusion inside your head as you felt your heartbeat beat faster. For some reason, this whole scenario felt like it came straight out of a horror film. Out of all the names he could’ve said, he chose to say yours. The panic subsided as you suddenly grew curious about what exactly reminded him of you.

There was the slightest, smallest, unlikely chance that it was because he liked you but that was too far-fetched, right? Your imagination was going wild and unknowingly, you let out a small squeak. Riddle chuckled at the sudden sound, the corners of his lips tugging up into a smile. He stopped to think for a moment, he was alone, right? There was no one else in the room but the hedgehog and him, right? He took a deep breath.

“Speaking of them, something has been on my mind right lately… and it’s bothering me to no end.” He started, a downcast expression was on his face and you couldn’t help but worry. Did you perhaps do something to upset him? The thought itself made you panic inside. You couldn’t help but scoot away from him a little.

“I think I like them.”

What.

WHAT!?

You wondered if turning into a hedgehog made your hearing worsen or Riddle just made a mistake. There was no way what you heard was right, right? But, even then, Riddle had a slightest tint of pink spreading on his face as he looked down in slight embarrassment. It was hard to believe that he didn’t mean it or that he made a mistake in what he said. You felt your heart explode at the sudden realization and discovery.

“But the problem is that I think they’re avoiding me. I’m a bit afraid that they don’t like me,” Riddle sighed, “not a lot of people like me after all.”

“That’s not true!” is what you wanted to say had it not been for the fact that you can’t. But as they always say—actions speak louder than words. You scooted closer to his hand on the table and placed one of your front paws over his hand, hoping that he would take it as a form of reassurance. His eyes widened slightly at the sudden gesture, surprised that maybe the hedgehog understood his feelings and tried comforting him.

“Eh, you’re full of surprises aren’t you? Did you actually understand what I said?”

Without thinking it through, you nodded.

“Ah-! You really do… that’s strange. But anyway, thank you for your reassurance. Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to confess b-but that’s not important right now, I need to find out where you came from.” Riddle urged you to go to the palm of his hand and you complied with no complaints. He lifted you until you were at eye-level with him.

“Let’s continue looking, shall we?” Before he let you go, he placed a kiss on your head as a sign of endearment. You swore you were about to let out another squeak until a cloud of smoke suddenly appeared from nowhere and you felt your body get bigger as you closed your eyes shut.

You wrapped your arms around Riddle’s neck so as not to fall and you felt his arms go under your shoulders and knees as he let out a surprised noise—realizing he was carrying you when the smoke thinned out. His eyes widened in surprise and his face was as red as his face when he looked at the person he was carrying. There was no way. No absolute way this was happening to him.

You stared at him nervously, face red as you violently wondered why the spell suddenly went undone. Trey never mentioned anything about a kiss being able to undo it so why…!? Countless questions took over your mind but there was only one thing you could focus on right now.

What do I do now?

“Ahaha… Hi Riddle…” Nervously, you started.

“Y-Y-You…”

“It’s me, (Y/N)...!” You had the feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

“M-My confession…”

“Oh yeah, about that I—”

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!”

Extra:

"E-Eh!? That came from Riddle-senpai's room right now. Do you think he's okay?" A random student asked the person beside them, crossing their arms as a pensive expression took over their face.

"Hmm, do you think we should check? Or tell Trey-senpai?" The other suggested. But as soon as Trey's name was uttered, he emerged from the hall with a satisfied grin on his face—as if he accomplished something great.

"Don't worry about Riddle, he's just having a little bit of fun with someone right now." He chuckled, not doing well to ease the students' worries.

"Trey-senpai...? Oh, he's gone. What do you think he meant by that?"

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst writing #fanfic #twisted wonderland x reader #your takoyaki has been served!#heartslabyul #twisted wonderland riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #trey was eavesdropping the whole time and decided to cause a little bit of trouble #why? 🥰 because he wants to give his dorm leader a little push !!!!#riddle was traumatized after that #he shoved u outside his room and he was this 🤏 close to tears

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

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GF - Starshine o’ Mine

A Drifting Stars AU one-shot, in collaboration with @clownwry (who made this GORGEOUS piece of art! PLEASE go follow her and check out her other work!).

1st, 3rd, 4th.

Ford held his knees, curled up into a ball against the wall of his cell. It was quite big, clearly built in case it needed to hold larger prisoners, but it made the human feel more alone than he already did, the large room looming over him like a monster. There was no bed or bench, only a barred window for air at the very top of the cell, that leaked moonlight into the hopeless situation and displayed the stars.

This wasn’t the first time he had been thrown in prison. This was his fifth time being captured.

The first time he had been out in the Multiverse for a year and had been caught by a tribe of hunters in a desert, clearly looking for a large meal, but Ford easily escaped with his ray gun and ran for the next wormhole.

The second time he had accidentally eaten a planet in his fifth year of dimension-hopping, and only managed to escape prison thanks to some mad scientist with blue hair.

The third time he was captured by slave-sellers, and he was lucky enough to be bought by an undercover rebellion, who only bought slaves to free them.

And the fourth time he had been captured Ford dropped his pants because the species were extremely uncomfortable with nudity and he walked out without a struggle.

This time was different than the other times, however. Every other time he had been captured, his mind was only occupied with survival and escape. No sense in panicking, that only clouded his thoughts and made it harder to think of a way out. But this time was different. It was extremely hard to think of a way out. It was nearly impossible not to worry. Because this time he cared about someone. This time he had someone that needed him to escape.

Ford wasn’t just thrown into a cell; He had also been chained around the neck, wrists, and ankles, and the chains were bolted to the wall. There was dry blood in his fluffy gray hair from the blow that had knocked him out. He had burrowed Mabel away just in time and begged her to stay hidden and stay safe. Ford had no idea if she had been caught and didn’t dare ask the guards that had dragged him to his cell; what if they had no idea she was out there and Ford’s questions only informed them of another prize? No news must be good news, but how long could Mabel stay safe without him to protect her?

He had to think of a way out, he had to! But nothing came to mind. He had nothing but the clothes on his back, he was chained and bound. He thought of a dozen escape plans, all of which were futile and doomed to fail. At least…

Ford’s ears detected movement. It resembled a mouse on pavement. Maybe a small rodent was climbing a bricked wall close by. But then he heard a puff of hair that sounded too big to come from tiny lungs. Ford looked up at the barred window and his eyes widened as he saw Mabel climbing up to the window, just the right size so she could balance on her knees and cling to the bars and block the moonlight coming into the cell.

Mabel smiled brightly at him, and Ford happily returned the grin. He instantly stood and forgot his chains, until he nearly choked himself getting to the wall of the window. He looked behind him and saw that he had run out of chain, but he maneuvered and pulled and allowed his throat to become uncomfortably tight, so maybe he could reach her. Ford reached a hand up to her as much as he could, and Mabel met him by leaning against the bars and stretching a hand down to him.

It was just enough. They could hold each other’s hand, Ford safely keeping Mabel’s fingers between his own fingers and his thumb, caressing his thumb over her small joints in the middle of her fingers.

It was miraculous how quickly all of his fear and worry left him at the sight of his niece. Ford was more than happy to see her again and to be holding her hand, but his smile dropped when he saw Mabel’s eyes water, and some tears escaped as she shut her eyes and turned her head away in a sad attempt to hide them.

Ford, surprisingly enough, knew exactly what to say, but he couldn’t risk a guard overhearing him and endangering Mabel, so he settled for squeezing her hand and silently begging her to look at him. The little girl met her eyes with his and he said a million things to her with those brown eyes that matched her own. He smiled kindly, proudly, at her, and Mabel managed to smile weakly with a trembling lip. Ford stretched to try to wipe her cheeks dry, but the chains were too tight and held him back, and the bars of the window stopped Mabel from leaning any closer.

Ford smiled apologetically, but Mabel understood. She wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her coat, and there it was. That smile that coated Ford’s soul in peace. That smile that would drive him to destroy a whole dimension if necessary. That smile that he felt was only worthy for a daughter to give to her father.

Mabel and Ford both heard it. The sounds of casual chatter and bumping armor. Mabel looked to her left and saw the shadows of two guards coming around the corner. She had maybe a minute to get away.

Ford smiled mournfully and let go of Mabel’s hand, gently pushing her limb away, but Mabel was quick and grabbed his hand again, begging not to let go. Though it was hard to keep it together, the old man made himself do it for her. Ford smoothed the little girl’s fingers with his thumb and squeezed her hand goodbye. Mabel bit her lip, and forced a smile. She squeezed him back, and then slowly their hands parted as the uncle lowered his aching arm and the niece backed away, and then climbed down from the window.

Ford had no idea why, but he continued to look out the window, as if somehow he would catch a glimpse of his girl. But all he had was a clear view of the star-filled sky, and was curly blessed with a small shooting star. Ford blinked, and only just now became aware of the tear on his cheek.

He wiped it away stubbornly and cleared his throat. He had to find a way out, he had to! He resumed his spot on the floor, and he buried his twelve fingers into his hair as he combed his mind for a successful idea.

About ten minutes after his last visitor, Ford had a new one. The door for the cells opened and the prisoner watched as two guards came towards him, one wearing a backpack. He scowled, ready for whatever they had planned, and one guard unlocked his door and asked weirdly casually, “How’s it going, eh?”

Ford gave him a suspicious look. “Erm…”

The other guard opened his backpack and Mabel popped out like a happy jack-in-the-box. “Hi, Grunkle Ford!”

“Mabel!” Ford gasped and stood, meanwhile the first guard was detaching the chains from the wall with a small key. “Wh-What is going on?!” He hissed.

“I made some friends!”

“I can see that.”

“G’day, there.” The first guard replied calmly. “Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen, see. We’re gonna pretend we’re movin’ you, but we’re gonna take you to the mouth of the sewers. It’s a clear cut to the woods where you’ll be safe, y’hear?”

“Uh… I hear.”

“Okay, back in you go, Lil’Bit.” The second guard said, and Mabel nodded and hid in the backpack again.

Ford was almost in a daze as he was escorted across the prison in chains. Somehow, Mabel had not only convinced two loyal guards to not turn her in, but to also assist in his escape. How, he has no idea. But maybe he doesn't need to know. Maybe he just needs to trust his niece. He thought he did, but clearly he needed to improve on that. And he fully intended to.

#GF #gravity falls #gravity falls au #drifting stars au #ford and mabel bonding #angst #im not crying shut up #collab #Thanks for reading!#fanfiction

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mayans-sauce · 3 years

Text

Fire

Pairing: Ez Reyes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Angsty, fire, reader gets hurt, hint of smut, arguing but fluff at the end.

Request by @noz4a2 which you can find HERE

A/N: thanks for the request! I hope you all enjoy this <3 !No spoilers for season 3 in the writing!

GROUP CHAT for updates!

Gif Credit: @sonsofeorl

“Arsonist strikes again!” You read the article's title in the morning newspaper as you were sitting at the kitchen table eating the delicious breakfast Ez had prepared for the both of you. “Again?” Ez asked, bemused. “Yep, and this time he’s going after people with grey houses. Hmm… luckily mine is a more off-white color, so we have nothing to worry about.” “I’m surprised they haven’t caught the guy yet. Shouldn’t be so fucking hard to catch him when he’s doing it in broad daylight.” “No clue. But it seems like he’s only setting the house on fire while people aren’t in it. So he’s not after killing them; he just really likes setting shit up in flames.”

You talked about the topic for a few more minutes before you changed it to something more relevant. Your six-month anniversary, which was today, and Ez had made some secret plans for you two, which would last most of the day. “After we eat, go and get ready for our day.”

The date day had been a success. It has been one of the most fun days you’ve had in a long time with your boyfriend. You were walking home hand in hand as you processed it all. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you that quickly got interrupted by a fire truck speeding past you with its sirens on max volume. “Wonder where they are going in a rush.” Ez shrugged his shoulders at your question. You kept walking, not thinking much of it. In just a few minutes, you would be back home at your place to continue the evening, hopefully, tangled in the sheets naked. As you got closer to the house, another fire truck sped past you, and in the distance, you saw the one from earlier and the new one standing in front of your home.

“Oh shit,” you yelled out as you sprinted towards your home. “Y/N wait!” Ez was fast on your heels to catch up with you. Your house was on fire. So far, it wasn’t a big one, but it seemed to increase in size by the second. The firefighters were getting the equipment ready at the speed of lightning to put it out. “No,” you whispered in disbelief when you stood at the front and watched it burn. “Fuck,” Ez whispered as well when he saw the house up in flames.

“The box!” Panic in your body as you thought about the most valuable thing in the house that would be lost if you didn’t do anything. Not thinking straight, you sprinted as fast as you could into the house, ignoring the screaming firefighter telling you not to. “Ma’am! You can’t do that; get back here; it's not safe.” “Y/N no!” Ez felt his heartbeat in the thousands as he went in after you; flashes of white clouded his vision at the thought of something terrible happening to you.

Coughing at the smoke, you covered your nose and mouth with the neck of the shirt to breathe a little better. You felt hot from the burning walls as the fire rapidly engulfed the house. You heard Ez shout for you, and you felt bad that he ran. “Ez, I’m here!”

In the living room, in one of the cabinets, sat the box you were trying to save. Ez came to your site in just a few seconds. Panic, worry, and anger was read all over him. “Y/N, are you fucking crazy? Running into the house like this? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You coughed up a storm before you were able to respond. “I can’t let this box get lost, Ez. I just can’t.” As soon as you grabbed the box, he put his arm around you to lead you both out of the flames.

Just a few more steps to the door, and suddenly a piece of hot debris fell from the ceiling right on your arm, making you let out a loud “fuck” at the pain. “Shit!” He scooped you up in his arms to go before the ceiling collapsed.

The medical team on sight looked over you and him. Luckily there were only a few minor injuries, and you wouldn’t be required to go to the emergency room. “Why did you run in? Why did you risk your life for some stupid box?” He yelled at you while you and he were getting patched up. “It’s not just some stupid box, Ezekiel! It has value to me. Here,” opening the box to reveal photos and a few trinkets, “it’s pictures and stuff of my childhood, my life growing up, and us Ez. All the important things in my life are contained in this very box” You handed it over so that he could have a peek inside.

He felt terrible for screaming at you when he realized that it wasn’t just a silly box. It held all of your life in it, and maybe that was worth saving, but still, it was reckless of you to pull what you did. “I- I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, Ez. Yes, it was very stupid of me, but I just needed to save it…”

Your eyes moved to the burnt-down house that had been put out. A slight mood of sadness came over you. It wasn’t anything significant. You had only lived in it for a year or so, so it didn’t have that much of a value to you. The clothes, the furniture, and everything inside it were replaceable, but your box of memories wasn’t, and that was the only thing that mattered to you. You thought that your house would be safe, but the arsonist had other plans. “You can stay with me if you want. As long as you need.” “Thanks, babe. I appreciate that.”

Living with Ez in the trailer had been a delight, to begin with. He wasn’t used to living with someone in such a tight space, but he didn’t mind it when it was with you. You got to see each other more often than when you lived in the house.

You had sex everywhere. On every surface, on every wall in the small trailer. It had been the most, and the best both of you had in a long time. He made you feel so good, making you scream out in ecstasy each and every time.

Most nights, you would have nightmares. Waking up in the middle of the night, panting and sweating, of memories from the fire. Ez would be up in a heartbeat to calm you down. Opening every window and door to let some air in to cool you down. He would hold you tight to him. Reassuring you that he was here and that he would never let anything happen to you.

After a while of living together in the tiny room, fights would recur regularly over small and petty things. It would be fighting over the silliest things, but because of you two living so on top of each other, it was heightened by the irritation of not having your own space. Fights could be about anything from an item being put in the wrong place to some more significant battles, like the one you were having now for the past few days.

Ez had been complaining about the amount of stuff you had bought, from clothes to even some furniture that was filling up the tiny trailer.

He understood that you were trying to get back the things you lost and fill up that hole in you, but he didn’t understand why you needed so much of it right now when you hadn’t even found a new place to stay in. You got mad at him. Angry because it felt like he was kicking you out or at least hinting to it that he didn’t want you here anymore, and you weren’t ready to move out yet. You hadn’t found anything new you could live at. He explained to you that it wasn’t true. He just wanted some fucking space to walk around his trailer. But the damage was already done, and you two weren’t on speaking terms. At night you would sleep on the separate beds in the trailer. He would already be out and about before you woke up in the morning so that none of you had to deal with one another.

You had come back to the trailer after a grocery store run, not expecting him to be home. “H-hey,” he rose from his seat at the table. Helping you with the grocery bags. You were surprised that he was talking to you but grateful that he offered to help. “Hey, thanks.” You let him take them and organize the stuff where it belonged. You stood and watched him as he put the stuff away. None of you said anything for a little while until Ez opened his mouth to talk.

“Hey, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being a dick to you.” You let out a puff of air, eyes closed as you felt terrible about him apologizing. “No, Zeke, I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. This is your place, not mine, and I’ve just been invading your home with all my shit. I’ll find a new place soon, I promise.”

“Hey,” he came to your side, grabbing your hands in his much bigger ones. He was towering over you as he looked in your eyes with his soft and sad ones. “No, I’m sorry. For making you feel that I didn’t want you here and for making you think I want you out as soon as possible. I don’t; I love you, and I love living with you, but it’s just,” he gestured with his hands to the trailer space, “it’s a lot of shit.” You chuckled as you looked down at your feet for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I know. I’m sorry. I promise that I will find something soon, and then we can go back to our more normal selves.”

“Wait,” he led you both to the table and made you sit down, “here,” he pulled his phone out of his pocket to show you something. “I found a few houses that I think you would like, and… what if we move in together… only if you want.” “Are you serious, Ezekiel?” He gave you one nod to let you know that this is what he wanted. “Yes… I would love that, to move in with you.”

And with that, you and he scrolled through the different house options. On each one, you made up stories of what your future would look like. All the memories you and him would make in your own home. How you would live until you're old and grey and surrounded with your many beautiful grandchildren. Dying happily in your shared bed and reminiscing on your life together. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank you for reading❤️ a quick reblog and feedback would be so appreciated❤️ Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist.

MAYANS MC TAGLIST: @blessedboo @60shannon @bellisperennis0 @capnsaveahoe @diaryofkali @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @xvvalx @missswritings @theocatkov @pinguinstudiert @chibsytelford @encounterthepast @rawrlittlepanda-95 @beeroses @siriussnape07 @adaydreamaway08 @miss-nori85 @oldstuffnewstuff @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @jatriciaaa @browneyes912 @cole-winchester @blackksunflower12 @phoenixhalliwell @cant-decide-at-this-moment @love-mesome-me @holl2712 @jennisdirtyimagines @balladbloodwrites @lilacyennefer @smallflower16 @marvelmaree @brwnlikefoxy @kaylaygrace @stupiddsapphicc @violet624 @boomclapxox @mijop @macgruberrr @queen-under-the-shire @missihart23 @vixemi @heeeeeres-saint

EZ REYES TAGLIST: @honestlyyaya @noz4a2

GENERAL TAGLIST: @everyhowlmarksthedead @-im-fantastic- @idorkish @megantelford @witching-hour

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 3 years

Note

I'd like to see how you think Vinca would admit she has feelings for MC, as if she couldn't take it anymore and admits to being in love with her.

“So you didn’t come to nag at me? At all? You’re just… just going to sit there? Silent?”

As she had done for the past hour, Vinca thoroughly ignored you. Never mind the fact that this was your shop, during your shift. You had gotten accustomed to Vinca hanging out here, to her snark and jokes and intense gaze, but today she was…

Weird.

“I like this silence,” you muse, tinkering with the price tags on some of the bikes. “I feel like I can actually think, for once. It’s amazing what not being insulted every second does for your humor. Didn’t think I’d ever feel peace with you on the same room.”

The silence stretched, thick. It irks you, makes you shift uncomfortably.

“Then again, having you like this is just so weird. Did something happen? Something must have happened. Was it Laz again? What did he do?”

You turn your head just slightly. Vinca jerks her head to the side, blue eyes as hard as little diamonds, staring into the door so hard you’re afraid it’ll burst into flames.

Did you just catch Vinca staring at you…?

“Okey, what’s up? You’re creeping me out.”

Vinca was the sort of person to run you over with her opinion or thoughts, never afraid of the consequences, her pride a stubborn shield. It didn’t make sense for her to hesitate, to keep silent.

“If you don’t tell-”

The bell jingles. You sigh, standing up, going to greet the costumers. It’s a little boy, vibrating in place, eyes darting around everything offered in the store. His mother walks in a moment later, giving you a small, apologetic smile.

As you help the boy decide what bike he likes the most, your gaze wanders towards Vinca again, catching how fast her gaze drops towards her phone.

You’re so kicking her out for creeping you out later. Once you finish your shift, you might coax what’s troubling her so much with some ice cream and that movie she likes.

“Will I faster than mum’s car with this, miss?”

You blink down, a delighted smile spreading over your face. “What?” You giggle, crouching, too focused on the little kid to notice how Vinca reacts to the sound, eyes snapping towards you, wide with wonder. “Oh, I don’t know. How fast are you?”

He puffs out his chest. “Faster than The Flash!”

His mother gets this blank expression, probably recalling some sort of accident. You recognize it well enough – it’s the same expression your mom always gets when she talks about the pot incident you had had when you were small.

The next few minutes are spent lightly teasing the boy, his mom admonishing him from running around so much, and a successful purchase moments later.

“Remember to drive safe!” You shout, just before the door closes.

“He’ll probably crash,” Vinca huffs, somewhere behind you.

“Oh, so now you’re talking?”

When you turn, your first thought is that Vinca probably is sick and that’s why she has been acting so weird. After all, how else would you explain the red tinting her cheeks, spreading down her neck?

She’s a full-body blusher, huh, you muse, momentarily distracted.

Hold on… full-body… Blush? Wait, Vinca is blushing?

“Is everything-”

“You’re- You’re good with kids.” She interrupts, gaze wandering.

“Not really, he was just…” Your eyes narrow, catching the way she’s moving. Slow. Uncertain. “Don’t change the topic. Why are you-”

“Shut up for one second, okay?” She snaps, back to her usual self. You blink, confused but not startled, used to her abrupt change in humor. “I just.” A pause. Her eyes flick towards you, and she takes a deep breath. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

“I’m in the middle of my shift-”

One snap of her fingers, and a demon materializes near the counter, expressionless.

“You have to be kidding-”

Her hand snaps towards your arm, claiming it in a vice-like grip. Vinca proceeds to drag you out of the store and into her car, occasionally adjusting her grip and making it gentler, and you only sigh and follow her, deciding do keep silent for now.

Seems like we’re getting that ice cream a bit sooner.

Curiously, Vinca doesn’t head to that ice cream parlor you usually frequent, choosing instead to lead you out of town. The place she wants to go instantly clicks in your mind, memories of a fight – the fight where you had first learned of demons’ existence – flashing behind your eyes.

“Are you going to perform another ritual?”

“No.” Vinca says, dryly. “I would never do something to hurt you.” There’s a pause, but you don’t make any comments. You can tell she’s not quite done talking. “When… when I did it the first time… the ritual, I mean. And it- when it didn’t work out, and you got hurt – cursed with being Dorran’s vessel, I felt so… miserable. I’m not any better than him. Considering how I acted, and all.”

“Hey, you helped me get exorcised. That must count for something.”

“I could have done it sooner.” She huffs. You can see her eyes darken, lost in memory

You shrug. “You were desperate, back then. And you’ve changed a lot. You actually care about me now, for one.”

Her lips thin. “Yes.”

That makes your thoughts skid into a stop. You expected her to huff, glare at you, and say something similar to ‘don’t let it get to your head, pipsqueak, you aren’t that important’.

But Vinca doesn’t look like she’s going to add anything of the sort, so you just stare at her, mouth agape.

“Did you just admit you care about me?”

You see her take a deep breath, feel how her grip tightens against the steering wheel. Her gaze is locked on the road, resolute. “Is that too hard to believe?”

You begin to say yes only to clam up when you detect the edge on her voice. “I’m just… surprised. You don’t usually admit how you, uh, how…”

“That’s going to change, starting now.” She says, guiding the car to a gentle stop near the abandoned factory where everything had transpired. She motions at you to get out of the car and heads inside at a brisk pace. You fumble with your seatbelt and hurry to follow.

The shadows loom, threateningly. Your gaze is drawn towards the center of the room, the traces of a circle barely visible. “I’m listening, then. To everything you have to say.”

You join her, sitting just a few meters near the entrance, backs against some boxes left there a lifetime ago. Vinca closes her eyes and sighs, deeply, and you only watch her. Watch the arch of her back, the knives on her dress glinting against the pale beams of light that manage to sneak through the windows.

“Just a heads up, but I didn’t expect this.” She finally says, after minutes of silence. “I thought I had better tastes.”

“In… what? Abandoned factories?”

“No, in- agh, just listen. I used to think you were someone I’d enjoy breaking, you know? In the show.”

“Oh yeah, I remember all your challenges.”

“But you turned out to be tougher than you look. And smarter, too, even if you sometimes make dumb decisions. Like following me to an abandoned factory minutes before a ritual.”

“I didn’t know you were going to-! But okey, yeah, fair point. It was a bit stupid. I should have called the cops on you.”

“Right, well. And then you powered through Dorran’s manipulation – I have to hand it to you, that was pretty badass. And throughout it all, you’ve… I used to think you were after me because you wanted an adventure. I mean, I’m hot, I’m rich. What more is there to love? But-” She throws you significant glare when she sees your mouth open, and you obediently close it so she can continue, “I understand now that it was never about the adventure. You just… wanted to get to know me. Not Pride, just me. Not the woman involved with demons, and not the woman involved with ghosts. You just wanted me, as I am, imperfect. And you never… you were never pushy about it. I could see it in your eyes, how you were connecting the dots about everything, but you never used it against me.”

“I never would have,” you mutter, gently. Vinca’s breath comes out in quick puffs of air. She’s visibly nervous, twirling one of her tiny knives between her fingers, her blush beginning to spread over her chest.

“You… somehow, you… I’ve felt it before, you know. Flings. Something destined to shatter when the other person can’t put up with me anymore, but with you, it’s… it’s different. I don’t feel like it will shatter. You keep me on my toes but I never feel like I will fall. You make me feel alive when all I want is to hide myself from everything. Somehow, I…I’ve come to love you. I’m honestly impressed, pipsqueak. I really thought I had better tastes.”

“What can I say?” You shrug, trying to be smooth but failing because your heart is thundering against your ears, your voice too soft out of the sheer wonder you are feeling right now. “Doing the unexpected is my passion.”

“You are too damn dorky.” Vinca hisses, turning her head just slightly. “I am ashamed of myself for loving- for falling in love with someone like you.”

You reach for her, and she lets you guide her so your eyes meet, sparkling blue against warm chocolate. You inch a bit closer, feeling her warmth envelop you. “Didn’t you just say I’m impressive?”

“I’m taking it back.”

“No can do, Wren. You fell in love with me despite, or should I say because, of my dorkiness. I’d say your bitchiness and my dorkiness complement each other quite nicely.”

Vinca groans. You can feel the vibrations of her voice travel down your hand, making you smirk even more, leaning closer, closer-

“Why did it have to be you?” She laments, but closes the distance despite it all, her movements intense and sure and glad. You can feel the heat of her skin, of her blush, pressed against yours as she quickly takes control of the kiss, pushing you backwards, curling herself around you.

Happiness surges inside of you. You smile into the kiss, melting against her.

You’ve both come a long way. This place, gray with memories of a fight, quickly takes on another meaning. One of acceptance, of overcoming challenges that kept both of you rooted into the past. With Vinca, you feel like you can finally leave it all behind.

#Anonymous #answered #vinca wren #swm vinca #lovestruck #lovestruck swm #sin with me #swm #lovestruck vinca #fluff #touching thursday #vinca x mc #lovestruck fanfiction

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dholwrites · 4 years

Text

Little Heart

Notes: Moments between the Crystal Exarch and his son while the Warrior is away. Playing dress-up, eating meals, and telling bed time stories. For @blood--hunter and written for pre 5.3 patch! Relationship: G’raha Tia / Unnamed Warrior of Light Rating: G - General. (Very high fluff content)

Inspiration link Ao3 Link

“Do you have everything you need? Food, clothes, weapon?” G’raha shifts back and forth on his feet, eyes following the Warrior of Light. His Warrior of Light. The thought of it still sends butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. All his fussing is easily hushed with a simple ‘yes,’ your face twisted to barely suppress your smile at his fretting. You reach out to pet the child nestled to his chest, tiny kitten ears poking out of the hood of his onesie and wiggling constantly as his hands grasp at the decorations on his father’s robes.

You have left them both alone before; usually leaving to help the newly inspired Warriors of Light, or to the Source to check on the Scions. However, those trips were usually a day at most. This is the first time you have had to leave for a week, and it’s a test of how well everyone can handle the situation. Problems of the Source wait for no one, not even the Warrior of Light.

“Wey,” G’raha whispers, breaking into a smile when he gets his son’s attention. Wey’s innocent red eyes look back and forth between his parents, trying to figure out what is happening. “Do you want to say ‘See you soon’?” With an eager nod from him, G’raha easily sets the child on his feet and watches as he waddles up to you.

“Byebye, I love you.” His little voice barely reaches your ears as he squeezes you as hard as he can, trying to prevent you from leaving. G’wey then mashes the bottom half of his face against your cheek for a ‘kiss’ and waits for you to do the same. The pout on his face lightens when you press your lips to his chubby cheeks, giggling when your hair tickles his face.

G’raha smiles at the scene, wishing that he could take a picture and cherish the moment for the rest of his life. He steps up to press his own kiss onto your waiting lips, chest to chest, his hand reaching out to grip your shirt and his tail unconsciously wrapping itself around your leg. And just like that, you step through the portal and vanish.

Day 1

It’s the first breakfast without you there, and G’wey is already searching for you. The kitten has made a point to ignore the breakfast sitting in front of him; instead, he kicks his legs impatiently and attempts to look into the entryway to see if he could catch a peek of you coming down the hall.

“Where did they go?” G’wey looks up at his father from a high chair, clearly confused about why you haven’t left your room yet. He manages to wiggle himself from the confines of his chair; just as he stands on his seat, his balance starts to slip and he nearly topples over before G’raha catches him with a wave of magic. Unfazed, the child continues to grasp at the air for answers. “Dada? Where are they? They were here yesterday.”

G’raha couldn’t help but wonder if this is how he looked when he was still a baby, a red-haired kit with mismatched eyes asking every question under the sun. “They left yesterday, remember? So we’ll have to wait.” G’raha crouches down to give his beloved son a kiss on the top of his head. Gears turn in his mind on how to explain this issue - and a quick glance at the calendar reminds him of how long it will be before you come back - before his attention is brought back to the squirming child. “Do you remember your numbers, Wey?”

“Yes, Dada!” The kit raises his hands and wiggles all his fingers before counting them. “One, two, tree, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!”

G’raha couldn’t help but feel proud when G’wey didn’t miss a single number. He reaches out and cups his hands to curl around the fingers. “They will be back in five breakfast, you will have to be a little patient, okay?”

“But that’s a really long time.”

“I know, but it’s going to be worth it. They might bring back a present.” The child instantly perks up at the mention of a new toy, eagerly nodding his head as G’raha picks up the bowl of cut chicken and spoons a small portion. He holds it up to G’wey’s mouth, urging him to take the bite. “Since they are away right now, we can also plan what we can do when they come back.”

“Then…” He hurries to eat the food, red eyes shining like jewels, it takes him a moment to find the right words to say what is on his mind. “Can I have a second breakfast? Then we will have… five more breakfasts before they come home... right?”

G’raha nearly keeled over at the suggestion, he let go of G’wey to cover the wide smile spread across his face. A burst of laughter tickles his throat while his heart flutters like a bird in his chest. Is it possible to love his son any more than he does now?

Day 3

“How about this one?” G’raha holds up another onesie. It was a present, from Dulia Chai and Chai Nuzz after they found out that the famed Exarch and Warrior of Light had a child. The onesie is fashioned into his own robed attire with the softest material available, with the metal details replaced with durable wooden ones for him to play with. G’wey lets out a happy squeal at the sight of it, running over and nearly tripping over his own feet in his hurry.

He had already spent a better part of the day changing his son from one onesie into another. Several of them were fashioned after outfits of their Warrior; a pure white attire with a matching cane, loose red far eastern robes with a wooden sword to match, and even a set of black robes with a pile of cards for him to play with. Each outfit is lovingly recreated with small alterations to make it safe.

He helps G’wey into this new outfit, even pulling the hood up to hide his bright red hair for good measure. The light laughter that erupts is infectious, G’raha unable to stop himself from letting out a chuckle as he pats his head.

“I look like you now!” The mi’kitten declares after he picks up a toy version of his staff. The toy is barely a forearm’s length, and G’wey waves it around like a wand while G’raha cleans up the mess they’ve made. The sight is almost too adorable to bear.

The hood has started to slip off, with one side barely hanging on by an ear while the other wiggles free from the hem. The long sleeves that replaced his armbands were long enough to cover everything but his fingers, and he had already rolled them up to properly grip the staff. The cut of the skirt is high enough to prevent him from tripping on it and they even cut a hole for the tail to poke out, the tuft wiggling without restraint.

Could his son be any cuter?

Day 5

“Crystal Exarch, sir!”

A Crystarium guard hurried over to him with a report from Lyna. There were reports of trade routes coming under attack, but nothing that he had never handled before. With the Lightwardens gone, the remaining sineaters have begun to attack recklessly, endangering travelers. Even the local wildlife has found it easier to pick off unsuspecting merchants when they’re too worried about other threats.

With his father distracted, G’wey moves to stand in front of his growing crowd of friends. He pulls the hood over his head and puffs out his chest, even tapping the end of the toy onto the ground twice as if to command them. Unknownst to him, the passing adults had taken notice of the tiny Exarch and even started to greet him as such. By the time G’raha finally turned his attention back to G’wey, he was immersed in a game of pretend.

“Begone, foul sin eater! I am the Crystal Exarch and the Crystarium is under my protection!” G’wey declares, brandishing his staff while a few of ‘civilians’ hide behind him. An elezen child prowls towards him on his tiptoes, hands reaching out to grab his costume.

“I am the greatest Sineater! And there is nothing you can do to stop me from eating everyone!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll summon heroes to come and save us!” G’wey steps up before G’raha had the chance to move from the sidelines. He swings his staff, careful not to hit anyone before slamming the end onto the ground. “Champions heed my call!”

With those words, G’raha’s face grows a shade closer to his hair. A mix of embarrassment and pride was enough for him to miss the other children running in to join the scene. The grin that broke out on his face could be seen a mile away. There’s no way, how could he have known those words? Unless… someone had told him the story of what happened down in the ruined city beneath the sea. But there is only a small handful that would know, and he’s yet to ask any of the Scions to babysit. That would leave...

His Warrior?

Day 6

“Wey, you need to eat your veggies.” He had already tried to combine different types of vegetables into soups and cream, attempted to dress them up to make them more appealing, and even hid them into meatballs. Most of his attempts have been successful, but he really wished to nurture a love for at least some vegetables. He’d find another way to convince G’wey to eat more later. Right now, his main concern is to get him to eat at least half of the popoto salad that he had prepared. “Just try to finish as much as you like, okay?”

G’wey looked reluctantly at the salad sitting in front of him before crossing his arms and turning the other way. “I don’t want to! I hate vegetables. I’m a big kid now, so I don’t need to eat them.”

G’raha lets out a defeated sigh, scratching his head over what to do in this situation. He picked up a small spoonful of the salad and held it up to G’wey’s mouth, only for the mi’kitten to turn his entire body to move away from the food. Just as he was about to give up, an idea occurred to him.

“Wey~” He coos softly as he casts a spell on himself. Within a blink of an eye, he’s gone. The Exarch had to stop the laughter creeping up his throat as he watched G’wey frantically look around the room to spot him in this sudden game of hide and seek.

G’raha nudged the spoon into his mouth, the magic dispelling only when G’wey started to eat. He watches as his red eyes light up the more he chews his food, his tail wagging with uncontainable excitement. A sign of relief escapes G’raha’s lips as he uses his free hand to brush aside some of his hair.

“It’s good for you to eat them even if you’re a big boy now.” G’raha sets the spoon back into his small hands before helping him eat another mouthful. This time the child is more than eager to inhale the salad, his tiny ears wiggling in delight at every bite. He reaches out to pat the child on the back, rubbing small soothing circles to prevent him from choking on himself. “Even Lyna still eats her vegetables. She eats both her meat and carrots everyday to be the captain of the guard.”

“T-then I’ll eat them!” G’wey declared, looking as intimidating as one could be with half of his face covered in eggs and mashed popotoes. “I’ll eat them so that I can be strong enough to protect everyone!”

Day 7

“Dada?” G’wey quietly asks as he is tucked into bed with a plushie next to him. The child kicks at the blanket to get his attention, staring up at him with bright and hopeful eyes. “Can you tell me a bedtime story?”

“Why, I never thought you would ask, Wey.” G’raha seats himself on the edge of the bed, leaning against the headrest. Tomes from the bookshelf gently glide across the room to hover before G’wey, who still marvels at the magic as if he’s seeing it for the first time. “What story do you want to hear about tonight?”

“Anything! All the stories you tell are good.” G’raha smiles as he decides to untuck some of the blanket to make himself comfortable beside his son. All but one book return to their rightful place, the last book’s magic pouring out into the room as the pages flip open. Parts of the room transform into a scenic mountain range with a snowy landscape, and the center sits the step towards the bridge that leads to the kingdom. The dark spiralling towers stand cold and alone as snow descends from the skies.

It’s a familiar sight to him now. Especially as he’s mastered the art of storytelling over the years; starting with Lyna, then the other children of the Crystarium, and finally presenting the polished experience to G’wey. He always enjoyed telling stories of everything that his warrier have done as the Warrior of Light. “Once upon a time, in a world different from ours, there was a kingdom that was friends with dragons. They lived in harmony, but one day, the knights of the kingdom decided to betray them and steal the dragons’ power.”

The scene shifts as he continues the tale, moving from the kingdom to a group of knights celebrating their victory over a still dragon. With G’wey tucked into his arms, G’raha continues his story and paints a tale of the Dragonsong War; of the struggle that the hero has gone through, the triumphs that they have achieved, and the people that once stood beside them.

As the story draws to a close, the Warrior of Light has defeated Nidhogg and saved their friend. The yawn that G’wey let out nearly stopped him in his tracks. The mi’kitten snuggles to his chest with tiny red eyes that he can barely keep open. With a wave of his hand, the magic is dispelled and the book is set on the nightstand beside the bed. The warm glow illuminating the room from the night lamp hanging from the wall, G’raha could hear and feel the loud purr rumbling from the kitten.

“Da? Will I ever be able to do magic like you?”

“Of course you can, G’wey.” G’raha answers right away, though G’wey didn’t stay awake long enough to hear the answer to his question. He pulls the sheets up to the child’s chin as he continues, “You can learn magic or how to use a sword. Whatever you do, as long as you’re safe, I will be there to support you.”

G’raha starts to hum under his breath an old lullaby that once cradled him into sweet dreams. Though a lot of the words have become muddled from his memory, he can feel it ease all the stress of the day off his shoulders. Beside one of his most precious treasures, G’raha slips into a peaceful rest, knowing that in the morning his family will be whole again.

#G'raha Tia #Crystal Exarch #ffxiv headcanon #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv #fanfic #writing commission #commission #ffxiv g'raha tia

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langdvnshepherd · 5 years

Text

Cabin in the Woods (Xavier Plympton x fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: smut and uhh... you’ll see

A/N: Happy AHS: 1984 premiere day! Just thought I’d pop in with a fun little something in honor of American Horror Story finally being back on our tv screens again! This was based on an anon I received about Xavier being the kind of guy that can dish it out but can’t take it. I’m anxiously awaiting the arrival of Xavier to Camp Redwood, so fingers crossed he’s everything we’ve imagined him to be! As always, barely proofread so forgive me! Also a special shoutout to my gorlieeeee @avesatanormalpeoplescareme for this brilliant ending!!!! Let me know what you think and what else you want to see from Xavier!

The Camp Redwood Wrap Party. Held on the night after all of the campers had been picked up by their parents to celebrate another successful summer in the woods. There was no more pitter-patter of tiny hiking boots at 6am, no more long days spent sweating your ass off and trying to keep small children from stepping directly into poison ivy and causing a disruption in your already chaotic day. The summer was finally over, and it was the last hoorah of camp before everyone went their separate ways.

Sitting across from you by the fire pit was Xavier, paper cup full of Montana’s famous punch in his tightly wound fist. His hooded eyes bored holes into yours over the vibrant, roaring flames, nostrils flaring with each bated breath. The girl beside him had practically crawled in his lap, fawning over his perfectly quaffed hair, fluttering her best doe eyes up at him in an attempt to seduce him. It had worked before, or at least he thought it had. He wasn’t sure if she was the same girl from a few days before or if that was someone else entirely, but at this point, he’d lost all interest in her. Nevertheless, she was far too intoxicated to realize her doting had no effect on him in the slightest, no matter how hard she palmed at his crotch with her long nails or sloppily ran her tongue along the hollow of his throat. Xavier was more focused on you, or rather the tall brunette whose hands were discreetly dancing dangerously close to the waistband of your nylon shorts, though he could see it plain as day. They were the shorts Xavier once told you you weren’t allowed to be seen in by anyone other than him. But you didn’t belong to him anymore, as he’d said it himself.

You wished you could live in the moment, submit to the handsome man that held you in his grasp and revel in the sensation that was his hands creeping steadily down your back towards the bottom of your spine, but Xavier wouldn’t let you. Fucking Xavier. You could feel the cold, icy stare of his beaming in your direction each time the guy you were with inched closer and closer to you, putting his hands in places that Xavier had only weeks ago. It was preoccupying every fiber in your body, rendering you unable to focus on what was potentially your last shot at getting laid this summer.

“What’s with him?” your newest conquest gestured to the smoldering blonde that kept eyeing you two, mumbling against the soft skin of your neck with his sticky, alcohol-ridden lips.

“Ignore it,” you sighed, though you didn’t know if your command was directed more at him or yourself.

“He’s just jealous.”

“Clearly,” he chuckled, the quick puffs of air he let out through his nostrils fanning across your collarbone, prickling tiny, raised goosebumps along the surface.

“I can’t believe he passed this up,” he boasted, giving the plump skin of your ass a hard knead for emphasis.

You refrained from rolling your eyes at him, though it took everything in you not to. At the beginning of the summer, you firmly believed that Xavier was as arrogant as they come. You thought nothing could match the cockiness (both figuratively and literally) that emanated from his mere presence. That might still be true, but it was now safe to say that Xavier was only one of many sleazebags on the roster at Camp Redwood.

Despite his smugness, somehow, in some way, Xavier had caught you in his trap. Wrangled you into his mind games and managed to have you at his mercy for the entire summer. Anything Xavier asked, whether it was meeting up in the woods while the campers were making macaroni necklaces in the arts and craft hall to blow him or him clamping his hand over your mouth and jaw in the middle of the night to keep you from screaming out while he fucked you next to your fellow counselor and bunkmate, you were at his will. You were addicted to him, and it seemed that he was to you as well. That was, until about a week ago, when he abruptly told you to he didn’t want to see you anymore and that there were plenty of women around camp that could “satisfy his needs.” It had been a jab in the heart, perhaps for reasons you weren’t ready to admit just yet, but you refused to let some pretentious asshole ruin your last few weeks of camp.

“What do you say we get out of here and go back to my cabin, yeah?” you suggested, fingers trailing down his color-block, cotton t-shirt and pausing at the beginnings of a bulge growing at the front of his shorts.

Your eyes flickered over to Xavier to see if he was watching the scenario unravel, you fooling around shamelessly in front of the entire camp crew with someone that wasn’t him. No one would have even caught the way your eyes darted left and right almost simultaneously had they not been staring directly at you. And lucky, the right person was. Xavier’s stare, if possible, grew more rigid and terrifying, nostrils stuck in a permanent flare. He definitely noticed.

Good.

The boy smirked down at you upon hearing your request, running his tongue along the skin of his bottom lip. His crass behavior didn’t have the same effect that Xavier’s did on you; it was borderline repulsive. Nonetheless, you persisted, dubbing this fool your latest conquest at whatever the cause. Anything to make Xavier realize what he was missing.

“Fuck yeah,” he exhaled forcefully as if he was already straining against his boxers at the mere thought of fucking what once was the most popular counselor’s personal plaything.

You began to lead him slowly back into the sparsely wooded area where the counselor cabins were located, though it looked especially eery in the moonlight. Twigs and rocks crackled beneath your shoes and the sounds of the wrap party began to taper off. Your hand held on tightly to the boy, whose name you honestly couldn’t recall due to the no-doubt deathly concoction of liquor Montana stirred into the punch. Just as you reached the wooden stairs that led to your room, a voice, not yours or his, broke the string of drunken giggles that had been falling from both of your lips.

“Y/N,” the voice called out, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

“Fuck, Xavier!”

His face was barely visible via the shotty, yellow porch light that had a habit of going out every once in a while. Had it actually been out, you would have assumed that the man in front of you was definitely not Xavier and was most certainly Mr. Jingles, the campfire myth that everyone had been ranting and raving about all summer.

You rubbed your face aggressively with your hands, trying your best to steady your rapidly increasing heartbeat that was caused by the commotion.

“Sorry to startle you,” he dismissed your panic half-heartedly.

He wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

“I was hoping I could get you to come back to my cabin to finalize your counselor paperwork. Margaret said you skipped a form when you filled them out yesterday and she really needs you to sign off on it for the camp records.”

The words dripped from his lips so coyly, so effortlessly. As if he hadn’t intentionally cock-blocked your last and final attempt at getting some dick at this godforsaken camp.

“Now’s not a really good time, man,” the boy beside you interjected, clearly not seeing through the guise.

What an idiot. Xavier simply chuckled at his ignorance, pacing the porch step with his hands clasped behind his back.

“It’s urgent. It’ll only take a second, really. I’ll make sure she comes back to you safe and sound.”

“Whatever,” the boy scoffed, clearly not vibing with whatever he imagined Xavier was pulling.

“I’m going to find Brooke. At least she’ll blow me.”

And with that, off walked the snarky son-of-a-bitch, and so did your shot at getting dicked down. He wasn’t much, clearly, but he wasn’t Xavier. And your mind but not your body had convinced you that fucking him would distract you from the impending gloom that lurked within you about your little “breakup.”

When his foot falls dwindled down to distant thumps, Xavier gripped you harshly by the wrist, far less calm and collected than he had just been when thwarting off your newest catch.

Your cabin was directly across the way from his, the Head Counselor Cabin. He wasn’t the head counselor by any means, just knew whose and how much ass to kiss in order to get it. He bunked alone and had his own bathroom, unlike the rest of you who got stuck with often smelly bunkmates and a nasty communal shower that never stayed upwards of lukewarm for longer than 3 minutes at a time. It was where you’d spent most of the summer when you weren’t, ya know, doing your job. Countless nights you’d spent sprawled out on Xavier’s sheets with your legs spread wide and pussy glistening in the moonlight, writhing beneath Xavier while he dismantled you thrust by thrust, leaving you whimpering and shaking by the time he was done using you. Back then, you could have sworn there was no other place you’d rather be, but due to the recent turn of events, that wasn’t so much the case anymore.

It didn’t more than a handful of steps to get there until Xavier flung the flimsy screened-in door of his cabin open, shoving you inside and forcing you to stumble into the darkness of the room.

“What the fuck was that about, hm?” you snarled when you regained your balance.

There was no way in hell this was really about paperwork.

“I could ask you the same thing. What the fuck was that about? You and I both know he is far from your type.”

His stance was demeaning, overpowering you easily with the way his hands were planted on either side of his hips. Xavier had his head cocked to the side as if you having the audacity to sleep with someone else was a mystery he was unable to solve.

A laugh bubbled up from your chest and out of your mouth before you could stop it. He looked far less intimidating after more or less admitting that he acted how he did out of jealousy, though you still couldn’t deny the way butterflies blossomed in your tummy and heat began to pool in your abdomen at the hidden confession.

“That’s bold coming from you, Xavier. You don’t want me anymore, remember? And besides, that red-head was basically tongue-fucking your ear back at the campfire. Why aren’t you with her right now? Making her ‘satisfy your needs?’“ you mocked him using air quotes to remind him of the harsh words he’s spouted at you in a fit of rage.

Xavier was walking towards you now, backing you into the corner of the wall. The knocking of his footsteps against the aged cedar floor, similar to how your heart was thumping in your ear. Even though it had only been but a week since your last interaction, Xavier sure knew how to rile you up.

He blocked you in, filling the empty space between you by pressing his body against yours. You felt the air in the room disappear through a vacuum, his proximity causing your throat to go dry your ears to ring loudly. His fingers on one hand caressed the skin of your jaw, while the other slithered in between your meshed bodies to cup your heat through your shorts.

“I’m the only one that gets to touch you like this. Do you understand?”

You couldn’t speak. Xavier’s touches sparked a fire in your belly that was raging inside of you. Had he not been holding your jaw in place, you wouldn’t have even been able to look him in the eye.

“I said, Do. You. Understand?”

He ground the palm of his hand harshly against your clothed pussy once more, forcing a whimper out of you.

“Fuck you,” you spat through gritted teeth, in fear that your voice couldn’t get any clearer.

As much as you wanted to be mad at him right now given the shit he’d just pulled, there was no denying the arousal coursing through your veins.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Xavier clicked his tongue, smirking down at the mess he’d already made of you with only the simplest of touches.

“I’m about to.”

The kiss he pulled you into was feverish, a rushed formality of his, although he couldn’t deny that he’d missed the familiar taste of your lips even after such a short passing of time. You savored the taste of him as well, knowing for certain it would be the last time you’d have the pleasure of doing so, whether it was due to the nature of your relationship or the fact that camp was over in the morning. Both of his large, strong hands fell to the sides of your thighs, a gentle tapping on your skin indicating that he wanted you to jump. He lifted you with ease from against the wall, then carried you the quick distance to his bed where he tossed you haphazardly onto the squeaky mattress.

You reached for the waistband of his shorts, gasping when your fingers fumbled over the tent that formed near his zipper.

“You feel that, baby?” Xavier moved your fingers away from the button that you were working open and back down to his crotch, pressing the flat of your palm against his impossibly hard member.

“Can you feel what you do to me?”

A moan strangled through your closed lips as you ran your thumb up and down his length. It never got old. Feeling how hard Xavier gets right before he fucks you into the mattress or the dirt, or a tree, or the floor of his van.

Xavier’s breathes grew heavier ear with each pass of your fingers over the underside of his clothed dick, fighting the urge to take you right then and there. As much as he wanted to, he had plans for you, plans to tease and punish you for going so far as to even think you had authority to fuck anyone other than him.

“Yeah,” Xavier was pulled away from his thoughts by your answer.

“I can feel it.”

Your voice was high pitched and whiny like Xavier had managed to dwindle you down to nothing but a needy hole that was desperate to be filled. You batted your eyelashes up at the blonde, which nearly made him falter. It appears as if he’d already ruined you, and the thought of it had his cock twitching prematurely in his boxers.

“It’s pathetic,” your docile demeanor faltered in an instant, revealing your stoic, seemingly bored expression.

“I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already this hard? That’s embarrassing, X,” you mocked demeaningly.

You closed your fist tightly around his cock that was constrained against his shorts, eliciting an unwanted, wanton groan from Xavier’s plump lips. He looked angry, but his eyelids forcibly closing and his breath hitching in the back of his throat suggested his disdain was laced with arousal.

Xavier took the hand he was using to brace himself on the mattress and brought it towards your face. He caressed your cheek lovingly, any inkling of previous annoyance vanished. His touch was tender as he smirked down at you.

Silly girl. If only you knew.

“You know what’s really embarrassing, kitten?”

He paused to dance his fingertips along your jaw, then moved down even further to graze the sensitive skin of your neck. In a flash he had wrapped his hand wrapped firmly around your throat, squeezing hastily so that your mangled gasp filled the room at the same time as his words that followed.

“Thinking you have the upper hand in this situation.”

Before you could catch your breath, Xavier had you flipped over, upright on your knees and pinned to his chest while he worked at removing your clothing. He paid no mind to the buttons on your blouse, the poor old thing clattering to the ground in dozens of pieces as the ripped it right from your chest. His hands molded to the shape of your body as he felt you up, nibbling on your earlobe when your head fell back into his shoulder and cupping your breasts over the fabric of your thin bra.

You shorts were easy to discard, as there wasn’t much to remove to begin with. Xavier always said they made your ass look incredible, hence why he spent some extra time admiring how the undersides of your cheeks hung from beneath the hem.

Xavier released his grip from you, forcing your front down onto the bed but keeping your ass up high, wiggling and on display for him and him alone. He slid your shorts and panties the rest of the way down your knees and over your ankles, tossing them behind his shoulder to lay neglected with the rest of your clothing.

“And to think, Y/N,” Xavier began as he worked at removing his own clothing.

You heard the rustling of his windbreaker and the zipper of his shorts coming undone as you lay motionless against the pillow that smelled of the musty cologne Xavier was known for drenching himself in before camp began every morning.

“I was gonna take it easy on you tonight.”

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, catching you off guard when he’d lowered himself to your level. Goosebumps prickled your shoulder and spine as he retreated to his original position on his knees behind you.

Xavier parted the mounds of flesh on your ass, reveling in the sight of your folds glistening with arousal in the moonlight that bled in through the open curtains. He let out a low half chuckle, half groan at your hypocrisy. You’d mocked him only minutes ago about his own predicament, yet here you were, dripping for him.

As if he even needed to, you heard Xavier hawk from deep in the back of this throat, then felt a hot spat of stringy saliva make contact with your core and quickly dribble downwards towards your clit. Xavier’s thumb began massaging the skin close to your heat, anywhere but where you wanted him. He took pride in watching you squirm, watching you whimper and listening to the small string of please’s that fell from your lips at barely above a whisper.

When he’d decided you’d had enough, he ran his fingers through your velvet folds, pushing two of his fingers in up to the last knuckle. Your walls welcomed him with ease, swallowed him as he resisted the urge to crumble on the spot.

“Seems like I’m not the only one who’s turned on right now,” he amused himself as he toyed with the excess of wetness that coated your cunt, thumb prodding at your clit each time he felt like you weren’t making enough noise for him.

“Will you just shut up and fuck me, Xavier?” you called from your position on the pillow, the low thread cotton beginning to leave imprints on your cheeks.

“With pleasure, doll.”

In an instant, his fingers left your core, causing you to shiver at the emptiness. However, his fingers were quickly replaced with his cock, that had been neglected, bobbing in the crisp air, leaking with the desire to fit inside of you. Xavier ran his flushed, pink tip through the shining petals of your folds for ease before inching his way into you.

You both sighed in unison as Xavier’s long, thick cock split you agonizingly. Despite only a week’s passing, your tight, warm cunt was no match for Xavier’s length, or his girth. Each and every. fucking. time. it felt like he was tearing you in two. He paused when he was fully seated in you, letting out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. His hands reached out to steady himself on your hips, nails digging harshly into your sides.

He set his pace in no time, not quite giving you enough time to adjust to his size, although there was no negating the pleasurable burn left behind each time his hips rolled into your ass. Your whimpers turned to full-blown moans as he assaulted your pussy, fingers reaching out for something, anything to grasp to sate the impending coil tightening deep within your belly.

You became more desperate, wanting more from Xavier despite him snapping into you at rapid speed. His cock pumped in and out of you with a harmonious string of squelches, each more wet-sounding than the last.

In attempt to spur yourself on faster, you began working in tandem with Xavier, rocking yourself forwards and backwards onto his length.

“How many times do I have to tell you, pet. You’re not calling the shots here,” Xavier growled as he ripped you up by the roots of your hair, pulling you flush against his sweat-slick chest.

All you could muster was a mewl as the burn of both his cock buried in your cunt and the burn of his grip on your hair consumed your body, blossoming into something akin to pure, raw rapture.

“Fuck,” Xavier hissed as you clenched around him.

“Your pussy’s so fucking tight. Gonna make me cum soon, baby,” he purred in your hear, causing your toes to curl and your lip to bleed from how hard you were biting down on the skin.

“Please let me cum, Xavier,” you begged, unsure if you could hold out for much longer.

You knew for certain that if you came before instructed, Xavier would continue to tease you until you couldn’t stand it, and leave you high and dry. He’d force you to finish him off in your mouth, force you to swallow every last pearly bead of cum and then walk off in the opposite direction, with no regard to the ache between your thighs, only caring about the appearance of his hair that he’d check out through the reflective lenses of his infamous sunglasses.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he pondered in between thrusts.

“You’ve been awfully naughty tonight. I’m not so sure that bad girls deserve to cum.”

“Xavier, come on,” you whined.

The blonde chuckled in your ear, cherishing your neediness, your desperation to be pushed over the edge by his hand and his cock.

“I supposed I could let you cum. On one condition.”

“Anything,” you writhed in his strong grip, lungs running out of air from how tightly his was holding you against his chest.

“You have to scream loud enough for the whole. camp. to hear you. Think you can do that for me?”

All it took was the weakest nod you could muster and Xavier dropped you back down onto the mattress, never once pulling himself out of you. His pace increased by tenfold, sparks shooting deep inside of you at your release that was to come.

Withing a few tight circles of his gentle but calloused fingers against your swollen bundle of nerves, you were cumming. Hard and loud, loud enough for everyone to hear. Just as he’d instructed you too. He refused to let up on his thrusts, fucking you long and deep through your orgasm. You tucked your head into your chest the best you could to come down from the waves of euphoria that never seemed to stop flowing through you. But you weren’t done yet.

“Fuck, Y/N. Keep clenching me like that. Just. Like. That.”

You held out for him, fighting the urge to collapse. The muscles of your walls pulsated around him, hugging him in the warmest embrace. Had he not ran out of condoms three days ago, he would have come inside of your cunt that was overflowing with your own juices.

When Xavier had reached his end, he withdrew himself from you. With a few jerks of his cock into his furled fist before he found his release. Ropes of his warm seed overflowed onto your back and up your naked spine and he came loudly with a grunt. He came much quicker and much harder than you’d ever seen him go, as you felt the bed dip almost simultaneously after silence overtook the room.

You laid there for a prolonged period of time, head still tucked into your chest, waiting for Xavier to retrieve a warm rag from the bathroom to clean up his...mess. When he still hadn’t moved after a solid handful of minutes, you called for him. No answer.

“Xavier, what the fuck? Go get a rag.”

It wasn’t until you felt small, slippery droplets run down your arms and pool in between your elbows that you shifted from your position.

There was no denying, even in the darkness, what you were seeing reflecting from the moonlight in the window. Coating your entire backside, arms, and legs was a metallic-smelling, dark substance that nowhere resembled Xavier’s cum in the slightest. Looking over at Xavier, you realized why he hadn’t moved in several minutes.

Standing directly over you was a tall, brooding black figure, a crescent-shaped dagger raised above his head, ready to strike again.

And attached to his hips? A set of bulky keys that suddenly began to jingle in the draft caused by the caved-in screen door of the cabin.

@alice-is-happy @lathraios @rocketgirl2410 @langdonskillerqueen@nickisgirl @hecohansen31 @blakewaterxx@divinelangdon@sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @littledemondani@little-grunge-flowerz@this-isnt-madness @w0nder-marie@d4dasher123@breakingsupernaturlbad101 @asstichrist@avesxtxnas @satcnas@langdonsdemon @babyboy-cody@avesatanormalpeoplescareme@chirpdesu @littlepsychos-world@soph3218 @michaellangdons @daddyjiel @venusxxlangdon@readsalot73 @wroteclassicaly@gold-dragon-slayer @venusbloodlust @avocxdy @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @admire123

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devilishsahbi · 4 years

Text

Dark Wings, Dark Words (1/??)

"I WOULD THINK YOU'D have a nice gallon of vodka or two after that, except you're sitting in an alleyway with a Red Bull and looking at the wall." The demon at the back door grinned at her with a sly smile, watching the half breed flip him off and take another chug of the energy drink. Her fingers slipped clumsily over the aluminum can, wet and darkened with blood, leaving smears wherever she rested her hands. "On a brighter note, I'm glad you saved him. It would have been awful if he had died."

"I doubt any of you care if he did die." [Name] fumbled in her scrubs for a wet wipe of some kind, at least to get some of the more vivid parts on her arms, but came up empty. "You certainly didn't mind when I was elbow deep in his rib cage pulling out that angelic monstrosity."

She pointed lazily to the broken dagger blade laying across from her in the alleyway. Even detatched from its hilt and the hand of the owner, it glimmered dangerously with golden runes along the flat edge, lethal to any demon who touched it except for her. Her human blood came in handy sometimes when she wasn't being hated for it.

"Yes, well, what can I say?" He shrugged. The earrings in his ears glinted under the artificial light of the lamp post outside the door. "I'm the patron demon of sadism."

"Good point." [Name] took a final drink and crushed the can in her palm. She rocked forward onto her feet, wiping her hands on the legs of her pants. Another pair ruined with demon blood. "He should heal up just fine now that that's gone."

"What do I pay you?" Zotiel crossed his arms and leaned against the door. She clearly wasn't going back inside. "Lucifer says you're very expensive to work with."

"Did he?" She laughed and toed off her shoes. Those were ruined too, doused in the blood her patient had vomited when she palpated his stomach. The white was indiscernible from the dark liquid. "Let me keep that blade and I'll consider it paid."

"Deal." Zotiel smiled, holding his hand out to shake. An oddly human gesture, but she accepted it anyways, not the least bit shocked when he squeezed hard enough to make her knuckles turn white. He inhaled deeply, much to her disgust and amusement, eyes fluttering shut. When he opened his eyes again, he gave her a tiny shrug, but wasn't apologetic in the least. "Sorry. Your pain smells amazing."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She pulled her hand free. "Or should I be concerned?"

"No. It was a compliment." His smile grew wider, his eyes darker. "You have my number if you want to explore it a bit more."

Not in this lifetime. She smiled at him one last time, turning on her heel and scooping up the dagger as she went. "Thanks for the offer, but no thank you. I'm going to head out now. Drop by if you're ever in the human world."

"Doubtful, but I'll keep it in mind. See you."

When [Name] was safely around the corner and far away from the storage building, she breathed a sigh of relief. Dealing with Zotiel had been a pain⏤Lucifer loved sending her on jobs that involved the demon, whether she wanted to or not, and got a sick kick out of every interaction she had with him. There had been far too many times where Zotiel got way too close for comfort and inflicted some kind of pain on her, even if it was something as simple as a pinch or poke.

If she'd had a choice, she wouldn't touch him with a thirty foot pole. And for extra measure, another ten feet, because she wasn't sure how far his range extended for sensing her pain. He'd even admitted, shamelessly, to finding even her emotional pain arousing.

The disgust she had felt when he told her that had followed her all the way to Lucifer's office.

"Ugh." She rubbed away the chills that raced up her arms and flicked out a cigarette from her back pocket. She never smoked often, but stressful situations like that one had her nerves on fire. It was why she had never completely dropped the habit, even after going cold turkey. "Why do I even bother?"

[Name] knew why she bothered. Without the underworld, she was nothing. Without the Devildom, she was nothing. The measly human side of her would fizzle away if she didn't have the Devildom to return to. It was the only thing keeping the awful urges at bay anymore. No one could pick out just what she got her power from, but she was abnormally powerful even for a half breed, alluring to even purebloods like Zotiel.

She had tossed around ideas like death or regret, but none of those seemed possible, seeing as she would be infinitely more powerful than she was now if that was the case. Whatever it was, it didn't require physical contact like Asmodeus, or the overabundance of eating like Beelzebub. It just was, and seemed to exist everywhere she went, even in Devildom.

[Name] shook herself roughly and took another puff of her cigarette. She didn't have time to bother with the origins of her power. She had to get to Lucifer's office, report her success, and return to the human world, take a quick three hour nap, and repeat it all over again. If she wasn't half demon, she would be dead ten times over already. Her stamina was astonishing, her lack of sleep even more so.

Luckily, no one questioned the back-to-back forty eight hour shifts she took without a wink of sleep.

She reached the House of Lamentation in record time, pocketing the dagger where no one could see or even sense it. One of her sorcerer friends, Solomon, had been kind enough to provide her with the spell to hide such a relic, but only after he wheedled a pact out of her and promised to only use it if he was dying.

To her surprise, she found Asmodeus and Mammon on the front steps, one sulky and the other irritated, glancing back to the door every so often. They would meet gazes, then look away, and repeat the entire thing. She wasn't even sure they heard her walk up until she was right on top of them, scaring Mammon to the point where he looked like an agitated cat, jumping a few feet in the air.

"Damnit, [Name]! What do ya think you're doin'?!"

"[Name]!" Asmodeus cooed, vastly more excited to see her, his pout taking a one-eighty as he cocooned her in a tight hug. The kiss he pressed to the side of her neck was a greeting at this point, even when he lingered a bit too long for her comfort. "It's so nice to see you again! I was worried Lucifer had fired you when you didn't show up for the raid last week."

"Could'a used your help then," Mammon supplied, in that same accusatory tone. He shoved Asmodeus aside and brought her into a hug of his own, though, even though he was as stiff as a board. He had taken to doing that after she yanked a spear out of his stomach and kept him from bleeding out by loaning him some of her power when he was worryingly weak. "Beel got sick an' Belphie took out a few minions."

[Name] patted his back and smiled when he parted from her, retreating to what she assumed was a comfortable distance for him. Any closer and he'd probably combust on the spot. She scratched her nose, cringing at the smell of blood. "Sorry, I was busy that whole week. My mother hasn't been the best lately."

"Oh! Mrs. [Surname]!" Asmo cheered. He knew the demon woman from a few centuries ago, she remembered, after she'd nearly snapped his neck for getting too close to her with the intent to seduce her. "The patron of disease. How is she?"

"Ya know she could just come back down here," Mammon suggested, leaning against one of the stone statues dotting the front lawn. "That's probably why she ain't feelin' too hot."

[Name] shrugged. "You know I can't make her, and besides… She refused. I do what I can. But why are you both outside?"

Asmodeus went sulky again. "The king released the prince from his bonds last week. If you'd been here, you would have heard everyone gossiping about it! And he's quite good looking, If I have to say myself⏤"

"Lucifer did somethin' to get on his bad side," Mammon finished. He tried to look unconcerned, but she could pick out the worry on his face like a beacon. "Somethin' 'bout defyin' him."

"Lucifer and his insufferable pride," she sighed. She rubbed her forehead, uncaring about the blood smearing across the skin. She could only imagine what Lucifer had told the prince. "Anything else I should know?"

"Yes!" Asmodeus raised a finger. "You probably shouldn't go inside. I don't think Lucifer wants the prince to know you're here, or that you even exist. I'd suggest just going topside and reporting in later."

[Name] groaned. "I have a shift tomorrow, I can't do that. What's so bad about this Prince, anyways? He can't be that bad…"

Asmodeus and Mammon exchanged glances.

"Uh… He's pretty bad." The demon of greed screwed his face up as he recalled something. "I keep reportin' to him, so I'd know. I think ya should be careful around him. He's even got Luci on a tight leash."

Lucifer on a leash was something she couldn't imagine. But with the way that her two friends were talking about him, she figured she'd better take them seriously and just report later, like Asmo had said. She sighed and stretched out her arms, preparing her power to teleport back to the human world.

"Well, I guess I'll just report later." [Name] shrugged and let Asmo pull her into a quick side hug in farewell, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of pulling on her magic reserves. "It was nice to see you two. I'll be back when⏤"

Her mouth froze when the door opened and power pushed past the wards protecting the house. All at once, her teleportation spell fizzled out and she was out of breath, suffocated by the energy that swelled past the barriers. Asmodeus's face twisted up into worry and slight horror, reaching over to steady her before she really lost her balance and face planted.

Not even Lucifer managed to overpower her like this, and he had been one of the first angels, once upon a time. Or he was at least stifling his to where she could converse with him comfortably without succumbing to her baser instincts⏤the demonic side that always purred at the thought of power.

Lucifer came out first, but he wasn't the source. His energy was calm and cool, most of the time, and not boiling hot, as if she were standing too close to a fire in an insulated jacket. He was frowning, displeased, and it deepened even further when he caught sight of her steadying herself on Asmo's arm, winded.

The demon inside her was unusually quiet.

"Whatever ya do, don't provoke 'im," Mammom advised, moving to her other side to rest a firm hand on her shoulder. He completely ignored the bits of gore left on her scrubs. "Don't talk unless he speaks to ya. Just be quiet. He'll ignore ya."

It didn't stop the dread creeping up her legs like phantom chains.

Out next came the source of the power⏤the topic of their discussion.

The Prince of Devildom.

[Name] was sure that if she wasn't so winded, her breath would have hitched at his appearance. He was tall, a few inches more than Beel, and he was already tall enough. His skin was golden bronze, nearly the same color as Mammon's, unusual as nearly everyone else was as pale as the moon. His hair was a deep crimson, reminiscent of fresh blood, and even from her distance, she could tell his eyes were a bright, burning gold.

Her fingers tightened in Asmo's bicep. He mistook it for fear and patted her knuckles soothingly.

His clothes, though, were spattered with blood. The white shirt he wore was ruined beyond saving, and behind him, a butler held a blazer in his arms, stone faced and nonchalant. [Name] probably admired his physique more than she should have, gradually regaining her breath and watching the muscles in his arms flex when he crossed his arms.

He was terrifyingly handsome.

She nearly forgot she was supposed to be breathing for a moment.

The prince ignored Lucifer entirely, a slight that showed as he walked past the former angel and walked down the steps at a leisurely pace. His butler followed, his own power nothing to scoff at, and she realized, belatedly, that they were walking towards them.

This time she felt Asmo and Mammon's grip on her tighten, not her own.

Her concern was for nothing. They walked past without a glance in their direction, the butler not even regarding them with a glance.

She sighed in relief. It was too soon.

[Name] heard a quiet sniff and it didn't belong to Mammon or Asmo. Lucifer's face drew tight. The demons beside her stiffened.

She should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

The prince paused half a foot from them, his head tilting towards her direction. The butler moved as he turned on his heel, poised easily to look back at her halfway.

[Name] swallowed the curse that was bubbling up in her throat.

"A half breed?" She felt his scorching gaze sweep up the length of her body, from her toes to her head, lingering on the blood dyeing her arms red, then at the necklace on her throat. Her mother's necklace. She had to fight not to tuck it in her shirt. "I didn't know Lucifer kept half breeds in his employ."

"Yes." The butler nodded. "A recent addition. A healer."

Asmo's quiet intake of breath wasn't lost on her. Clearly this demon had some sort of knowledge that they didn't.

"What's your name?" Those eyes were fixed on her again, boring into her own like molten gold. Now she really couldn't breathe.

Mammon's tightening grip on her shoulder, close to fracturing bone, told her to answer.

"[Name]," she answered, but it was strangled, breathy as she struggled underneath the power he was letting off. His eyebrows lifted, ponderous, then he turned away. She felt as if someone had left her out to melt on a hot sidewalk.

"Pretty name." His mouth quirked up, just a bit. "Let's go, Barbatos."

[Name] melted just a little more.

And then they were gone, like they had never even been there to begin with. She took a breath and slumped against Mammon, who was for more rigid than Asmo, and rested her hand over her chest, wincing at the ache from having her breath stolen for so long.

"This is bad," Mammon sighed, wrapping his arm around her back when her legs went wobbly. "Really bad."

"Definitely." Asmo shook his head in agreement. "Let's get you inside, [Name]. You can report while you recover."

The whole walk inside, those golden eyes haunted her.

Not even Lucifer's angry frown could stop it.

#obey me #mafia au #diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: It's a Lovely Afternoon In Ebott (baon)

Summary: ...and Edge is going to spend it in the park with his husband. Surely nothing will go wrong!

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Humor, Fluff

~~*~~

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

“so, what do you have going on today?”

Simple words, but they immediately put Edge on guard. He knew them for what they truly were and that was a trap.

“Nothing specific,” Edge hedged. His real plan was to catch up on some paperwork. His husband’s so-called innocent smile widened, and it was as good as a snare, catching Edge against his will and holding him in because there was little that he wouldn’t do to keep that smile around a little longer. He sighed inwardly and gave into his fate, “What did you have in mind?”

“i am so glad you asked.” Stretch climbed over the arm of the sofa and clumsily sprawled into Edge’s lap, “i thought maybe we could go to the park.”

It was difficult to hold back a grimace. Normally, Edge would be more than happy to go to the park. Ebott park was a true community project; the Embassy donated regularly for everything from the flower beds to repairs. There were walking trails and a nature center that held classes for everything from bird watching to stargazing. Last year, the community contributed to the building of a fully accessible tree-house that anyone could visit, whether they were a child or only one at heart. A trip to the park made for a truly enjoyable day.

Today, however, Edge found he was reluctant. His leg was healing well, but he still wasn’t completely back on his feet and while he could bring his mobility scooter or his cane, his deepest instincts screeched against revealing such weaknesses.

Ridiculous thinking, he was already exposed from returning to work at the Embassy. As many times as his intuitions had saved him in the past, he couldn’t allow them to hold him back in this world. As Red told him before, if he wasn’t willing to adjust, then why did they bother coming up into the sunshine?

Stretch was looking up from his lap, waiting with patient hopefulness. If Edge told him he was too tired or his leg was bothering him, Stretch would accept that, and nothing would come of it but fleeting disappointment.

Instead, Edge settled a hand on Stretch’s skull, smoothing a gloved thumb over the curved bone. “What is it that has you so interested in the park?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Stretch fumbled out his phone and held it out wrongside up, showing an upside-down photo of a lake. “according the community board, this year’s ducklings have hatched and they are on the lake as we speak. they are inviting visitors to come see the new residents and to feed the ducks.”

“Ducks,” Edge repeated slowly, drawing out the ‘s’ in a sibilant hiss. "Why would we want to feed random ducks?"

Stretch shifted in his lap, grinning, "because i'm not on a first name basis with any other ducks?"

"You have chickens."

"that is true,” Stretch agreed, “but as far as i am aware, i don't have a lake or ducks, which is why i’m having to outsource."

“There will be rules.”

“babe, i never expected anything else.”

“You will not approach the ducks any closer than feeding range,” Edge ticked each one off on a finger, “You do not pet the ducks. We will not be bringing a duck home with us nor a duckling. Nor any other incarnation or distant relation of a duck. Nothing even remotely duck-like will be joining us, period."

“we’re feeding the ducks, babe, i’m not plotting a poultry heist,” Stretch scoffed, “anything else, commandant?”

“No, thank you, and the honorific of Captain will suffice.”

~~*~~

The drive alone was an enjoyable one, the weather warm enough to put the convertible top down. Stretch sprawled out in the passenger seat, sunglasses in place and his face tilted into the breeze.

When they pulled into the parking lot, it was already lined with cars, families caravanning in with their SUVs, beleaguered parents trailing behind carrying coolers and wagons while their children ran ahead. The parking spot Edge found was far from ideal, his convertible squeezed in between a Jeep and a somewhat battered minivan with a collection of cheery stick figures decals in the back window to clarify exactly how many members were in their family, parents and children, all the way down to a vapid-looking fish.

Already Edge was picturing the dents from overeager young passengers slamming open their doors into the sides of his car and Edge grit his teeth, rounding the car to get their own cooler from the trunk. “I hope you brought some bread to feed these newsworthy ducks.”

“bread?” Stretch scoffed, only just catching himself from leaning on the car’s quarter panel. He aborted before a single bony finger touched, and possibly scratched, the glossy red paint, and crammed both hands into his short pockets instead. “bread is terrible for ducks, we can keep the carbs for french toast day. i brought frozen peas!"

Edge stopped, looking around the trunk lid at his husband. “The peas from our freezer? The ones from our garden last year that I was planning to use this weekend?”

"…no?"

“Did no one tell me that this is opposite day where no means yes?” Edge said to no one in particular, then directly back at Stretch, ”You do realize that if you try to replace any frozen garden vegetables in our freezer with some awful generic purchased from the grocery store, I will notice, don’t you.”

Stretch only breezed past him, heading into the park, and as Edge slammed the trunk shut, he almost thought he heard, “you didn’t last time.”

Straight into the park from the lot was the playground, shrieks of laughter carrying from the structure to the scattered picnic tables and pavilions. The lake was deeper in, its murky water not meant for swimming and the surrounding shaggy vegetation was cleared away around the long dock. Out in the placid water were a couple of boats, any passengers more concerned with their afternoon naps than the fishing poles in their laps.

The rest of the park was not only on another page, but an entirely different book. A glance showed the playground was overloaded with children making use of the swings and teeter-totters. There were plenty more children on and around the dock being coached by their parents to lightly toss their treats to the ducks and the tiny yellow puffs of their offspring, not hurl them. Still others ran along the lake shore, laughing and shouting, playing tag and the occasional parent towering over them offered no reprimands as they ran and shoved their way around.

That careless childish roughhousing gave Edge pause. Normally a crowd wouldn’t bother him. Well, that wasn’t precisely true, but he was able to quash his worries for the most part, particularly around the Monster children.

At this park, surrounded by so many Humans, it was difficult to stifle a protest over Stretch venturing out onto the dock. Children could be incautious, could be easily frustrated, and their parents could be easily roused by any slight, real or imagined. It would take less than most Humans would expect for them to seriously injure Stretch; Humans had so much more physicality than Monsters, their intent carried more weight. A little childish roughhousing that would mean nothing to a human child past a bit of sullen retaliation could badly hurt a Monster with low HP.

It was one of the reasons Edge’s was reluctant to bring Stretch along for his work with the YMCA. They were good children, but they were children. Better to keep Stretch away so that no one suffered any unfortunate consequences.

And therein lay a problem. Refusing to bring Stretch to the Y was his choice and one that he suspected exasperated Stretch though he never pushed. Here, he had no right to try to stifle Stretch in any way. In light of his recent rise in HP, Stretch was likely to be even more frustrated by any overprotectiveness.

Even asking Stretch to perhaps consider another time or day to indulge in his recent need to offer frozen peas to strange ducks wouldn’t go over well, might even anger Stretch, and Edge wouldn’t blame him if it did. As he so often reminded Edge, he was the older of the two of them and he’d been dealing with his low HP all his life.

Stretch knew how to take care of himself or he wouldn’t be here now, and oh, how much Edge wished he hadn’t thought that. He busied himself with setting their cooler beneath an out of the way shady tree, shaking out a blanket for them to sit on.

Stretch helped him spread out the blanket, giving the park a thoughtful glance.

“huh, pretty crowded, isn’t it,” Stretch peered at the dock, his mouth twisting, “maybe i’ll take a walk around the shoreline, see if i can find a less populated clearing.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Edge tried to keep the gratitude from his voice and thought he was mostly successful. Only mostly, since Stretch offered him a lopsided smile before ambling off in the direction of the lake with his pilfered bag of peas.

It was something of a relief to sit down on their picnic blanket, a slight grunt escaping him as he stretched out his leg in front of him. It was better, Edge reminded himself, slow as it was, every day it was getting better and even if he’d had to barter for a little illicit healing on his first day back to the Embassy, it was better since then. In fact, he should send a thank you card for the kindness, perhaps a small gift, and—

Sudden shouts made him jerk and Edge scrambled awkwardly to his feet, scanning the crowd. There were Humans running away from the lake, mostly shrieking children, their short legs churning as they ran. The long glass was rustling fiercely, parting violently and that was when he saw Stretch. At first, Stretch was all but scrambling in the air like a character in an old Scooby Doo cartoon. Once he got moving, though, he was surprisingly quick for someone who claimed to have perfected the ancient art of laziness.

Long legs carried him swiftly away and Edge, along with the rest of the park, was treated to the sight of skeleton who topped the tape measure at nearly seven feet tall sprinting frantically away from a large goose.

Edge watched mutely as Stretch scrambled up the first available tree with hardly a pause, clinging to the trunk as he came to a stop on a wide branch. The goose paused at the base of the tree, flapping its wings threateningly as it hissed up at the branches.

Well. That was…well.

There were a few options available here. Edge could head back to the car, start it up, and leave Stretch here to his new home. Perhaps Edge could move away, join the circus. Substitute knife throwing for bones, he had a deft hand, no apple would be safe from his wroth, and he’d look excellent in tight costume.

Or he could take up bank robbery, he’d read the plan that Stretch drew up for the game that he and Jeff were playing, a little classic heisting to support himself until he went down in a blaze of glory.

Or, Edge could claim Stretch as his own and be broadly painted with the same idiot brush.

As if there were truly any choice. Dreams of joining the entertainment industry or grand larceny aside, he'd chosen to hitch his wagon to Stretch’s star the moment he put a ring on his slender finger.

Edge retrieved his cane and walked over, past a group of kindhearted Humans who seemed to be attempting to come up with a rescue strategy. He kept a safe distance from the goose, who was still focused on their treebound quarry.

“What on earth are you doing?” Edge called exasperatedly, “You can use magic! You can teleport!!”

"i panicked!" Stretch said defensively. Both his long arms were wound around the trunk of the tree, clinging for dear life. His horrible sandals dangled precariously close to the goose’s snapping beak. “besides, i don’t want it to go for any of the kids!”

Of course he didn’t. His love’s soul was purest silver, but if he’d had a heart it would be made of the finest gold.

The goose was unimpressed with either. It circled the tree trunk, its beady gaze on Stretch and surely working on a new plan of attack. The Humans were still milling around in indecision.

“Should we call 911?” asked one woman, timidly.

“Naw, animal control,” one of the men put in.

“Neither,” Edge said decisively, “One moment, please.”

With a flick of his fingers, he summoned his magic, turning the goose’s (small, pulsing rapidly, crimson with determination) soul blue.

The goose hissed furiously as Edge walked over to it, showing off a disturbingly barbed tongue, but it was helpless against being picked up and tucked under one arm to be carried back to the pond. It couldn’t move but it could create a hell of a racket, honking and hissing as Edge limped his way back through the tall grass where Stretch had come from.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Edge sighed. “You can’t move, even to hurt yourself. Let’s take you back to the water.”

As he approached the lake, a sound rose up, a frantic sort of peeping. He passed through the shaggy weeds and into the clearing to find a clutter of goslings stumbling over each other on the shoreline. The peeping increased in volume as they caught sight of the goose in Edge’s arms, one enterprising little creature offered a tiny hiss of its own.

“Very good,” Edge told it approvingly. “Soon you’ll be able to threaten children and skeletons on your own.”

Edge set the goose back amongst its little ones and backed away even as the counter ticked down and the hold of blue magic eased.

The goose was disoriented at first, distrusting of its freedom. Then it swung around to glare at Edge, seeming to be trying to decide if another attempt at aggravated assault would be worth the effort.

“You can try,” Edge said calmly. He raised a hand, his magic at the ready. “but we’ll only end up here again. It’s up to you how much time you’d like to waste.”

In the end, the goose decided it had pressing business on the other side of the lake. It waddled into the water, then glided along with deceptive grace, the goslings falling into line behind it.

Edge watched to make sure it didn’t change its mind. It was a rather bemusing use of his brother’s lessons about never turning his back on a potential threat, certainly the most unusual.

When he turned back to the park, he was startled to find a crowd standing a safe distance away from him. The clapping was scattered at first and slowly grew to full blown applause, children and adults alike cheering. Even Stretch, still in his leafy perch, was clapping, although his grin all but glowed with pride. A fair sign that he wasn’t having longing fantasies about joining the circus. That made one of them.

Heat seared his cheek bones as Edge made his way through the crowd, dismally hoping that all this wasn’t about to start trending on some sort of Angel-forsaken social media post. From the way several people’s cell phones were in hand, that sad little hope was one in vain.

Edge walked purposefully away from the crowd, back to the tree and its latest occupant. He held out his arms and asked dryly, “Do you need me to catch you?”

There was a brief cool touch of void as Stretch’s slight weight was abruptly in his arms. His husband brushed a kiss against Edge’s overly warm cheek bone before he said, teasingly, “my hero.”

“You’re welcome,” Edge glanced back at the lake, “You know, I’m only familiar with a few nursery rhymes, but I never expected to meet Mother Goose in person.”

“heh, maybe she mistook me for the farmer in the dell,” Stretch squirmed loose of Edge’s arms, getting his feet under him, “c’mon, i lost the peas in the drink when mama over there tried to play a little duck duck goose with me. may as well go have lunch.”

“All right.” Edge let Stretch lead the way back to the blanket, following along behind with his cane in hand.

Their day at the park was certainly different than Edge ever could have imagined, but that was all right. The only goose Edge had on his mind now was the one he was about to pinch on his husband’s lovely backside.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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slaapkat · 4 years

Note

PROMPT: CRUSHER TELLS JORDAN U KNOW HWAT ISNT NORMAL. :)

(mostly combining these 2 prompts! hope it’s okay!)

shortly following this

The newly-minted ISA is… struggling, to say the least. One would think that being composed of only three people, one of whom being psychic, that teamwork would come easy.

One would think.

The bank robbery is a veritable disaster, even more so than their sorry attempt at a jewelry store heist weeks earlier. Larry ignored Jordan’s suggestion to proceed carefully, instead choosing to kick in the doors with a rebel yell and bat swinging to cave in the face of the first security guard he saw. Evidently no longer seeing any sense in following any semblance of a plan, Henry followed suit almost immediately after despite Jordan’s furiously hissed protests, having dropped everyone to their knees with his powers by the time Jordan finally saw fit to swallow his pride and trail after them, ice spreading and cracking across his skin.

Now, it might have been successful even then-- Henry had the forethought to paralyze all the tellers before they could press the panic buttons, and incapacitate the rest of the security guards before they could draw their weapons --until Henry then managed to get distracted by a singular man’s supposedly unforgivingly wicked thoughts, lowering his concentration just enough to allow for a single guard to…

Needless to say, the fact that they barely managed to escape without getting arrested was a miracle in itself. Pure luck, even, that escaped with anything at all-- a measly couple hundred dollars that Larry had wrenched from a single till, unable to make it as far as the vault.

It’s why Jordan now finds himself holed back up in his tiny room that Henry had allowed him in their already tiny apartment. He’s nursing a headache, though whether it’s from the stress of the situation or Henry’s personal revenge for getting shot at is hard to tell. He just-- wants this to work, he wants the ISA to be everything he dreamed of, but it’s hard to organize anything when one member is a literal know-it-all and the other is a hot-headed adrenaline junkie.

Jordan groans and sets about the arduous effort of disrobing out of his costume-- his uniform --and into moderately more comfortable clothes so that he can wallow in his self-pity in peace.

“Hiya, bud!” Larry’s extraordinarily chipper voice jars Jordan from his reverie. He startles just slightly, not expecting Larry to have still been around; he’d been extremely vocal about Henry claiming the lion’s share of their meager loot in recompense for the bullet holes in his Brainwave uniform, just short of storming out of the ISA entirely. Larry smiles disarmingly, all teeth. Jordan smiles very weakly back, awkward with his coat halfway down his back but arms still caught in the sleeves. Against his better judgment, he tries to wave, only to stop and blush when the action fails due to the previously mentioned sleeves.

“La-- Crusher,” Jordan greets, only somewhat wary. Larry’s still grinning back at him. Jordan decides to distract himself by going on with his undressing. “Um. What can I do for you?”

Larry doesn’t respond right away, seemingly content to watch Jordan struggle with the complexities of coat sleeves with mild amusement until he chuckles. “Boy, we sure blew it today, huh?”

Jordan grimaces, finally freeing himself from his jacket and throwing it on his bed. “I wouldn’t say that…”

“Nah, nah, we did,” Larry blusters on, waving Jordan off. “We gotta work on our teamwork! I know you’re worried about Brainy being a team player--” and here he ignores Jordan’s panicked I’m not! “--but listen! I have the perfect solution. Great idea for a bonding activity. See, the Romans--”

And it’s here Jordan rolls his eyes, ignoring the rest of Larry’s rambling so that he can finish undressing and pack it away until next time. Larry had a tendency to go off on tangents, excitability getting the best of him. Jordan only half-listens, turning away to give himself the illusion of privacy while he takes off his shirt.

“--and then they strengthen those bonds by fucking each other--”

Jordan jumps with a yelp, whipping around just in time to see Larry casually making a crude gesture with his fingers, the pointer finger of one hand being moved in and out of a circle formed by the thumb and pointer finger of the other hand. Jordan feels himself blush and his cheeks just as quickly frost over as he blurts out a scandalized, “Larry!”

“Look, I’m just saying-- hah?” Larry says, looking up and trailing off, eyes latching onto Jordan’s shirtless torso in an instant and widening. Jordan abruptly feels exposed and fights the urge to cover himself despite still wearing pants. It’s a feeling not at all helped when Larry suddenly laughs, eyebrows shooting up. “Wow, bud, that’s not normal.”

It’s enough to give Jordan pause, looking down at himself and back at Larry in quick succession, frowning and confused. “I-- I don’t--” Jordan’s frown deepens, defensive. “What’s not normal?”

“That!” Larry leaps forward with another laugh closing the distance between them so rapidly that Jordan has barely any time to react before he finds Larry tracing the almost perfectly straight line of hair trailing up from his navel to his chest. Frost and ice gather rapidly at Jordan’s cheeks as his blush intensifies.

“Chest hair?” Jordan offers weakly, almost literally frozen in place as a result of being so intently at the end of Larry’s single-minded attention. “It’s just-- Crusher, I don’t understand, it’s just chest hair--”

“Who’s happy trail just does that?” Larry interrupts, grinning wide. “It’s like a straight line all the way up and down!”

“Okay, I know--” Jordan tries, chagrined. “Look, it is normal, for me--”

Larry spreads his palm flat, whistling as he apparently continues to admire Jordan’s so-called freak-of-nature chest hair. That finally ends up being too much for Jordan’s runaway embarrassment, freezing all over in an instant and cementing Larry’s hand against him. Larry doesn’t even blink, unperturbed, and only whistles appreciatively again before just as casually wrenching his hand free.

“Wow!” Larry says again, evidently oblivious to Jordan’s awkwardness as he casually shakes the cold and ice off his hand. “So, anyways.” He flashes another smile. Jordan feels his heart flutter a little. “About my bonding idea? Could really do the ISA some good, I think.” Larry winks. “Might finally even get that stick out of Brainy’s ass, too.”

“I’ll--” Jordan clears his throat, voice just a little rough as he hurriedly pulls on a fresh shirt before Larry could be tempted to reach out again. The ice refuses to melt away. “I’ll, um, think about it?”

“Hell yeah!” Larry barks enthusiastically, pumping a fist in the air as he finally turns to leave. “Alright then, bud, alright! Hey, I’ll see you around!”

Jordan sighs, deflating just a little at the puff of cold air that escapes with it.

The ISA was going to take more work than he thought.

EDIT: NEIL JACKSONS FREAK OF NATURE CHEST HAIR FOR PROOF

#THIS FEELS BAD #SORRY ANON I HAD THE IDEA TO INCLUDE THAT POST IN THIS BEFORE U SENT THAT #SPORTSMASTER #ICICLE #SPORTCICLE #FIC #INSPIRED BY NEIL JACKSONS REAL ACTUAL FREAK OF NATURE CHEST HAIR #ask #jordan mahkent #the isa polycule #ufonaut

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telli1206 · 3 years

Text

A Christmas To Remember (Ch.2)

And here’s Chapter 2 @vndooms and @descendantsgiftexchange! Sorry this is going to be a little long, hopefully I’ll be able to finish it in the next few days. I’m anticipating at least 3 more chapters 🤷‍♀️

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Tradition Time

Waking Carlos up early in the morning is never an easy task. So this time, Jay comes prepared.

“Wakey wakey, ‘Los!”

He’s loud, and Carlos grunts at the intrusion, burying his face into the pillow. But Jay leans in closer, holding the hot, steaming cup of coffee out to allow the rich scent to waft through the air. And then, he waits.

The light grumbles through the pillow stop almost immediately, and Carlos turns his head to face Jay, forcing one eye open. He inhales deeply, confirming the coffee smell before pushing off one arm to sit upright. Success. Coffee always works like a charm.

Jay suppresses a giggle, staring fondly at the lopsided pile of curls on Carlos’ head, his pillow-creased face and squinty eyes. If he’s ever seen anything more adorable than a barely awake Carlos, he can’t remember. Carlos reaches an arm out for the mug in his hands, grabbing and cupping it against his chest to steal its warmth. Jay dips in and kisses the tip of his nose, making Carlos giggle and finally force out a tiny smile.

“Thaaanks,” he tries to say but the word ends in a yawn. “It’s super early though, isn’t it?”

“It is…” Jay starts, hesitant. “But, the first holiday activity I have planned for us needs to start bright and early. Can you be ready in thirty minutes?”

Carlos puffs out a pout, knowing very well how deliciously distracting they are to Jay. But Jay is undeterred this time, shaking his head and cupping Carlos’ chin in his hands.

“It’ll be worth it, ok? I promise.” He kisses Carlos firmly, but holds him in place when he tries to chase Jay’s lips.

“We’ll have time for that later,” he teases, winking suggestively. Carlos blooms scarlet, turning away to quickly slide off the bed. He yelps when Jay slaps his ass lightly.

“Get going!”

Carlos sticks out his tongue, giggling and swatting at Jay when he pretends to bite at it. “Ok, ok. I’ll meet you downstairs,” he finally agrees, grabbing for a towel and clothes on his way to the bathroom.

-----

Jay narrowly misses the ceiling joist that juts out at the bottom of the stairs, even though he’s already banged his head on it once this morning. He’s so determined to avoid it again that he almost misses the conversation he’s walking into in the kitchen. He hears Evie’s high pitched coos just as he reaches the beam and ducks...too fast.

Stumbling over his feet, Jay spills curse words when his hip slams against the table before he’s able to stop himself. There’s an awkward silence, and he sucks in a breath as he looks around the table at the stunned faces. He barely registers a pair of small, soft hands at his waist until they’re gone. When he looks over, Jane is chewing on her lower lip, avoiding Jay’s eyes. Lonnie, on the other hand, is covering her mouth and fighting back a laugh, very unsuccessfully. When she finally bursts, Jay sneers at her, eyes glaring as she leans over to hug Jane from behind.

“Smooth, Jay! Maybe you should grab another cup of coffee before we go. You know, to wake up those senses a little?”

The table erupts in more laughter, but Jay just rolls his eyes and stalks to the coffee pot without saying a word. He really hates to admit it, but Lonnie’s not wrong about the coffee.

Evie, Doug, Jane and Lonnie easily fall back into conversation as Jay prepares his cup. Lonnie is still sharing her and Jane’s journey into dating, which Jay already pried out of Lonnie early this morning. There was no way he was going to wait another second to find out how it all went down.

Warmth bubbles inside him as he watches Lonnie’s face. When she’s talking about her and Jane together, she has an undeniable glow about her, lighting her from the inside out. She’s still hugging Jane from behind with a wide grin on her face, and Jane is tucked into her shoulder with her hands over Lonnie’s. She occasionally burrows her nose into Lonnie’s chin, smiling happily when she forces Lonnie to stop talking just to giggle and nudge her away.

“I’m so happy for you both,” Evie beams, gripping Doug’s hand on the table. He nods excitedly, watching the girls’ shy but happy smiles at their reaction.

There’s nothing that thrills Jay more than getting to see his friends be so happy. They’ve all had their fair share of problems in the last year, and the anxiety of their work, teams, and even relationships has weighed heavily on them. And Jay has both seen and heard the toll it’s taken on their ability to relax and enjoy life, himself included. He’s definitely been worried about the high expectations he may have for this Christmas break, but he can’t help but hope for the chance for all of them to really get to enjoy each other’s company. And this moment in the kitchen, laughing and smiling, listening to stories of budding relationships, has only stoked the flames for that hopefulness.

And that hope is high for Carlos especially. Well, for Carlos and himself. Even though they’ve done their best to see each other this year, it’s been difficult for sure. Particularly in the last few months. Jay is never happier than when he’s with Carlos, and now that they’ve worked so hard to get their relationship in such a good place, he’s sure that Carlos feels the same with him.

Unfortunately, Carlos spent more time working than being with Jay this year. And Jay can’t even be upset, since his practices, games, and travelling with his team for away games has been just as much to blame for that as Carlos’ work. But they’re here now, together, and Jay is determined to make the most of that. He’s going to make this Christmas break joyful for both of them.

And he already has plans to make it happen.

Carlos comes down the stairs then, showered and groomed but not looking much more awake. He smiles sleepily to everyone, happily patting Jane’s shoulder when he walks by while she’s still wrapped in Lonnie’s embrace.

“Alright!” Jay shouts, clapping loudly to get the attention of the entire kitchen. “We’re leaving in 10 minutes! Everyone dress as warmly and comfortably as possible and meet me at the car!”

He points with both thumbs towards the door and smiles through the pained groans, continuing to clap as everyone starts to get up.

“Trust me, you’re gonna love it!”

-----

“Jay, we better be close! I’m not doing this much longer. I’m about to rebel and run back to the car.”

Evie’s yelling is garbled through chattering teeth, but her message is still loud and clear. Carlos is trying to keep her as warm as possible under her arm while Jane walks beside them to chat and try to keep her distracted from the bitter cold.

Apparently, she’s not exactly loving what Jay had planned.

In front of them, Jay, Lonnie and Doug are walking together, huddling over a sunlight sensor that Doug had brought. He explained excitedly in the car how it would be able to help them detect the premium placing of trees that would get the most needed sunshine. As a result, the three of them had been so fixated on finding the best Christmas tree on the farm that Evie’s whines were falling on deaf ears for practically their entire tredge through the more than knee-deep snow.

Despite Evie’s obvious dislike of their activity, Lonnie couldn’t be happier. She had spent most of their excursion eagerly discussing Doug’s sensor with him, pointing out tree after tree while he pulled the calculations.

“Jay, I don’t know where you get your ideas...but I love this!” Lonnie croons.

She steals a glance back at Jane, smiling at the girl’s huge, awestruck eyes that are grazing over the gorgeousness of the snowy forest around them. She grins happily at the breathtaking view, blushing instantly when she catches Lonnie watching her.

“Jane’s so wide-eyed over this forest. I think you really scored me some brownie points with this one. And decorating trees is her favorite thing to do at Christmas!”

She slaps Jay hard on the back, and he has to bite on his lip to avoid screeching in pain.

“Glad I could help you out,” he grits, fighting away the urge to rub at his back. “It’s Carlos’ favorite too.”

“Ohhhh, I got it,” Lonnie says, winking at him. “You planned this to get in good with him, too?”

Jay smiles quietly, shaking his head

“Chill Lon, it’s not like that. I’m just trying to make sure our first Christmas together is memorable. That’s all.”

“Guys!” Doug interjects, jabbing his finger in the air. “I found it! It’s right here!”

A tall, almost ten foot balsam fir, branches full and wide and shaded the deepest pine green stands in a clearing, perched perfectly straight in the glittering snow. Jay’s grin breaks when he sees it, radiating joy at the sounds of oohs and claps from his friends.

“Finally!” Evie groans. “Can we get it to the car already?”

Carlos chuckles quietly next to her, and Jay notices his strained smile, not as bright and full as he was hoping for. He’s shivering slightly, curling into Evie. He looks almost as ready to go as his whiny friend.

“‘Los, hold the tree up with Doug while I cut it down? Then we can drag it back.”

Jay reaches out to Carlos, who nods and takes his hand, leaving Evie to lean on Jane.

Jay’s heart lightens when Carlos and Doug walk over to position themselves around the tree, holding it in position for Jay to start sawing. Seeing Carlos taking a bigger role in his Christmas tree outing is definitely reassuring.

Maybe Carlos will actually love this as much as Jay wants him to.

-----

When they arrive back at the castle, Jane and Evie are quick to grab all the wet coats, hats, gloves and boots, pulling them off and tossing them to the side as soon as everyone is inside where it’s warm.

“I’ll grab some blankets,” Evie insists. “Doug, can you start a fire before we worry about the tree?”

Doug nods curtly and shuffles hurriedly into the great room. Jay is walking closely behind him, gripping Carlos tightly and blowing onto his hands, doing whatever he can to transfer his body heat over to him.

“Feeling any better?” Jay asks, hopeful.

Carlos nods silently, but his body still shudders involuntarily. His cheeks and nose are flaming red, and the crystalized snow in his hair has melted into soppy wet curls that are dripping into his eyes.

Evie shoves a towel into Jay’s hand, offering a sad smile.

“Why don’t you both take the couch closest to the fire,” she asks, placing her hand on top of their conjoined ones. “Carlos, I’ll make you a hot chocolate, ok?”

Carlos smiles gratefully, squeezing at Evie’s hand with his thumb.

“Can I get a hot chocolate too, Eves?” Lonnie implores as she drops into a chair next to the couch.

“I’d love some too!” Jane adds cheerfully.

“Of course! But would you mind getting some mugs for me?” Evie asks on her way to the kitchen. “Oh! And marshmallows!”

“On it!” Lonnie pops up, snatching Jane’s hand and pulling her along.

“I’m so sorry, Carlos,” Jay sighs, adjusting the boy to lay in his lap. He pats at the wet curls with the towel, eventually folding it underneath Carlos’ head to catch the dampness. “I never thought that would happen. I’m so glad you’re not hurt.”

“Jay, it’s ok,” Carlos says, his tone calm. He reaches up to touch Jay’s cheek, with warm chocolate eyes that are soft and comforting. He strokes along Jay’s jaw, lips upturned with a hint of a smile. “How would you know which way that tree would fall? And I got more cold and wet than anything. The tree barely touched me.”

“Yeah, but that could’ve been so much worse…” Jay scoffs, but his voice comes out shaky, unsteady. Today was a dispiriting blow to their vacation. Carlos is fine, which is good, but he’s too tired and freezing to want to decorate, which is not.

Instead, they spend the rest of the night on the couch together, with Carlos resting in Jay’s lap, nursing his hot chocolate. Doug and Lonnie eventually set up the tree, and Jay and Carlos have an enjoyable time jokingly supervising while Doug, Evie, Jane and Lonnie decorate it.

“Jaaaaaane! I told you the bigger bulbs look better at the bottom! You’re making it look all weird and lopsided. Move that down!” Carlos teases, fighting to keep a straight face. He sets his mug on Jay’s knee so he can point forcefully downward. Jay chuckles as Jane rolls her eyes but keeps her smile, following Carlos’ direction. She bows dramatically at him once the ornament is in place.

“Anything else, my liege? I hope my obedience to your precise orders has pleased you.”

Carlos is very familiar with Jane's mocking tone, and he’s snickering under his breath before she’s even done talking. But he still plays along, casting a boring look on her and waving his hand lazily in the air.

“As well as can be expected, peasant. Now be gone, we’re done here.”

Jay’s mouth twitches as he watches Carlos joke with Jane. His boyfriend’s beautiful smile is undoubtedly infectious, especially when it’s glowing and happy, like it is right now.

Jay sneaks his fingers in carefully to hover just under Carlos’ underarms, being still as possible to avoid detection. Before Carlos can make another snarky remark, he hooks his fingers into his armpits, urging Carlos into a fit of giggles.

“Jayyyy, stop!” Carlos pleads, already breathless. He rocks back against Jay, almost dropping his mug in an attempt to loosen Jay’s grip. But the new position only allows for Jay to curl into Carlos’ neck, peppering kisses while the boy is gasping for air. When he finally lets go, Carlos turns to glare at him, but with lips upturned and a sparkle in his eye. Jay smiles when he sees his cheeks and ears flush scarlet again, this time for reasons other than the frigid temperatures outside.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” he snarks, poking fingers into Jay’s chest.

Jay grabs his wrist and pulls him in so their noses are touching. “Sorry, did you say I have a nice ass? Why, thank you,” he taunts, smirking proudly.

“No! I...will you j-just...I mean…” Carlos flusters, pulling away from Jay and sliding off the couch. “You’re insufferable,” he sighs, a smile still tugging at his lips. He takes Jay’s hand to pull him up. “It’s late. Maybe we should go to bed, now that the tree’s done.”

Jay glances over at the Christmas tree, now softly glistening a warm white light, colorful lights sparkling off of it from the colorful ornaments. A white glittering snowflake perches on top in place of the usual star.

“Nice job, guys,” he muses, beaming happily at Jane and Lonnie, now nestled under a blanket on the chair beside them. Jane is half laying on top of Lonnie, head leaning against her shoulder as Lonnie gently plays with brown curls.

“Naturally,” Lonnie snides, eyes closed and half-smiling.

“Hey! I helped too!” Evie chimes in from her chair next to them, seated in Doug’s lap.

“It looks beautiful Evie,” Carlos jumps in, closing his fingers on Jay’s. “I love how Christmasy the castle looks. You and Doug did a great job.”

Evie grins wide, reaching her hand to Carlos for a loving squeeze. “Thanks, Carlos. I’m so glad you’re here. All of you,” she adds, with a look around the room.

She gets up from her spot on Doug’s lap, stretching her arms high as he gets up from behind her.

“I think we’re turning in, too. Good night.” She yawns lightly. “Hopefully tomorrow we’ll all be warmer and drier, whatever we do,” she hints, with a sideways glance to Jay.

He chuckles, meeting Evie’s stare. “No promises.”

Carlos groans as he follows behind Jay up the stairs. “Are we going to be freezing outside again? I only just got the feeling back in my fingers!”

“C’mon ‘Los, be a sport. You can’t expect us not to be outside just a little bit, to enjoy the beautiful snow?”

Carlos grumbles softly for a minute, and they get changed and ready for bed in mostly silence. Jay doesn’t want to press anything yet, Carlos is usually able to calm himself down after a few minutes of quiet thought. He does have to remind himself to breathe once or twice though. The thought of Carlos already shooting down the activities he had scheduled and detailed out so thoroughly before break makes him nervous. This was mainly for Carlos, after all.

They snuggle under the comforter together, Carlos remaining silent until he lets his head drop onto Jay’s shoulder. He buries his nose into Jay’s neck, inhaling deeply before letting out a loud, resigned sigh.

“As long as we’re not out there all day, I guess.” He concedes. Jay refrains from smiling, but tightens his hold around Carlos’ back. “As long as I’m with you.”

“That’s my ‘Los,” he coos playfully, feeling Carlos’ smile pressed against his skin. “We’ll have a great time, I promise.”

They will have a great time, Jay promises himself, as his mind starts to haze. Today was a little bump in the road, but his ideas were all to guarantee that it would Christmas break they would never forget.

Tomorrow will go more smoothly. He has no doubt.

#jaylos #jay x carlos #jay son of jafar #Carlos De Vil #evie grimhilde #doug son of dopey #jane fairy #li lonnie #jannie #devie #descendants #descendants gift exchange #vndooms

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bi-bi-richie · 4 years

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Meet Me in the Woods (1/4)

In Derry, Maine, most people don’t know about the four spirits that reside there. Of course, everyone has heard of the four elements; Air, Fire, Earth and Water, but they had no idea about the identities behind their abilities.

...

Ao3 - 1 2 3 4

...

In Derry, Maine, most people don’t know about the four spirits that reside there. Of course, everyone has heard of the four elements, Air, Fire, Earth and Water, but they had no idea about the identities behind their abilities. For centuries, the spirits passed between different entities, more often than not, humans. The problem was that almost everybody they passed through had the intention of using their abilities for their own selfish desires. The spirits eventually decided to retire in their own individual humans, starting as infants, and act as the little voice in their head as they grew up to insure that they would be their ideal spirit wielder.

The oldest of these spirits is Air. Air is a spirit that craved freedom, the one that touched the sky and, unlike the others, couldn’t be tied down and controlled. The spirit had hope to find someone like themselves, faster than fear and stronger than any danger. Air knew they had no success in finding somebody like this in grown people, but they believed they could mold the young child into what they need. What the world needs.

The second oldest is earth. Earth is nothing like Air, a polar opposite some would say. Earth was a content spirit, never reaching for what they can’t have because they already had it all. They, like Air, could never find somebody like this, it’s impossible to find a human without desires. Still, Earth was sure that they could teach their human to settle with their ability. Show them that they didn’t need to explore the world, instead they could make it. It’s wishful thinking and Earth would stick to it.

The third and second youngest of these spirits is Water. Such a beautiful yet powerful spirit, Water is definitely one of the most respected spirits out of them all but also the most fun. Water has a playful personality that, surprisingly, complimented their mighty ability well. Water wanted that in their human; fun and free but not afraid to do what’s right, even if it means sacrifice. Though the spirit was a lively one, there was no room for love in their existence.

The final and youngest spirit is Fire. Fierce was the only word anyone who looked at the ability of the spirit could use to describe it. They’re unbelievably powerful, even more dangerous than any other spirit and the most destructive. Fire is fearless, like Air, and never stepped down from a fight. Though Water has tamed them in the past, they always came back with more force than before. Fire knew early on that whoever they picked would have to be strong and won’t be pushed down- ever- even if Fire had to teach them.

…

As a child, Eddie always knew something was different. Most people can’t use the wind to help them run faster or hold them in the air while they read a book... or use the air at all. Eddie first learned that when his dad walked into his room when he was 4 and having a windy day in his room so his cape would flap up and down while he played. His dad, Frank, much calmer than anyone should have been, sat Eddie down and asked him about what he was doing. Eddie, convinced he was now in trouble, just ducked his head and told him that he was just playing and somehow willed it to happen. Frank smiled, called him his little bird, and had Eddie agree that he wouldn’t do it in public. Eddie reluctantly agreed but Frank promised that he would take Eddie out into the forest and they could play with it there.

For a few years, they did. Until one day Frank didn’t come home and the wind howled harder than anyone had ever seen that night.

The other side of all of this was Eddie’s mom, Sonia. She was blissfully unaware of her son’s unique ability his whole life since Frank urged Eddie to keep it away from her considering she might not understand the same way Frank did. Eddie didn’t realize why until he heard a voice in his head.

At ten years old, Eddie had surprisingly kept his secret from his mother pretty well. It wasn’t exactly hard to hide, it could be chalked up to the air conditioner being too high or a window being left open. What almost gave him away was a voice.

Eddie was looking out the window one night and saw his neighbors had a fire going in their backyard. He watched it with a smile, missing the days when him and his dad would do outdoor things together. His smile faded when he saw everyone go inside, leaving the fire to rise in height and nip at the leaves above it.

“Blow it out,” a voice said in his head. Eddie almost fell back from how sudden it was and how close it sounded.

“Hello!?” Eddie called out and frantically looked around his room, but he saw nobody and nothing even capable of making noise.

“Quick,” the voice snapped, “that could spread in no time.”

Eddie’s eyes filled with confused tears, unable to understand what’s going on and afraid of something he didn’t know.

“Edward! You have to stop it! A quick puff could take it out in a mere second!”

Then he couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Mom!!” He screamed out, “mom help me!!”

In no time at all, Sonia was barreling into the room, wild eyes searching frantically for her son and almost fainting at the sight of him sitting by an open window, sobbing his eyes out.

“Edward! Have you lost your mind!? What are you doing by an open window!?”

Eddie could barely see his mother through his tears. “I-“ he hiccuped, “I heard a voice! In my head!”

There was not a collection of words that could’ve scared Sonia more than those. In less than an hour, Eddie was laying in a hospital bed trying not to cry and listening to his mom scream outside his door. Somehow, everyone had ignored the hard push of wind in the hospital as the doctor explained that Eddie probably just heard a voice from the outside, as he seems physically and mentally healthy.

Eddie heard it again while he slept in that uncomfortable bed in a sadly familiar white room. Eddie trembled when he heard it, but something made it a little less scary than before, and a little more welcoming.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me, Edward, your father wasn’t.”

And for a young Eddie Kaspbak, a few years without his father or the freedom to use his abilities, that was enough.

…

Beverly heard her voice many years sooner than Eddie did. Beverly, like Eddie, had a parent who saw their ability and loved it as a part of them. At the time, Beverly and her parents lived in a small house a little further away from Derry but in Derry nonetheless. It was easy to hide Beverly’s more dangerous ability when there was nobody around to see it. As a baby, her crib caught fire more often than could ever be considered normal. The funny thing was that Beverly never got burned once.

Through too much trial and error and excessive lies to Beverly’s father, Alvin, Beverly lived comfortably with her mother, occasionally her father, and her flame.

Unfortunately, it couldn’t last. Beverly’s mother had been deathly ill for a good year in her life and didn’t survive. In her grief, Beverly, now four years old, set their house on fire without realizing she was letting her power escape her. When sheher and her father escaped, he slapped her and blamed her even though he didn’t have evidence and the firefighters couldn’t find a clear cause for the fire. But Beverly took it to heart. He was right. Now Beverly had nothing left of her mother and she took the blame upon herself.

Alvin moved them fully into the town. Kept them cooped up in a tiny, rundown apartment and let his love for Beverly slip with every sip of beer and drag of a cigarette he took.

One night, Beverly, seven years old, watched herself in her bathroom mirror. A fresh bruise was spreading across her cheek and she knew she’d have to cover it up before she went back to school tomorrow. She watched herself and felt tears slowly leak from her eyes. Thoughts of how she despised her appearance, her uncanny resemblance to her mother and how it’s a curse filled her mind. She felt nothing but hatred for it.

“Don’t do that,” a voice lightly scolded. Beverly leaped backward and frantically looked around

With as much bravery as a seven-year-old can muster, she called out, “who’s there? Show yourself!”

The voice let out a quiet, “tsk tsk,” and Beverly slowly started to realize it wasn’t a voice coming from someone in the apartment.

“Shh, you don’t need to fear me.”

Beverly trembled but couldn’t help but feel comforted by the gentle tone. “Who are you?”

The voice shushed her again, “never mind that. All you need to know is that I’m here for you, Beverly. I love you.”

Hearing that, even at seven and not truly understanding the power behind those three words, caused Beverly to collapse and sob. She had been denied love for so long. A caring voice to tell her everything will be okay. That she was loved.

“And don’t say those things about yourself,” the voice scolded again, but gently. “One of the things I love the most about you is your flame.”

…

Mike has...the perfect life for his ability. It’s unbelievably easy for him to hide it, he didn’t even know about it until he was six-years-old. Ever since he was born, the farm had been doing more amazing in their farming than ever. The soil was always perfect, everything grew at its best and there was rarely a spoiled harvest. It was amazing and unlike anything any farmer had ever seen.

When Mike did discover his ability, he was playing outside alone one day. He loved to be outside, to discover new things everyday. Though he was generally allowed to run around wherever he wanted, he still felt there was more to find. His father warned him of a high cliff above a quarry and that it was too dangerous to go alone. For a long time, Mike held onto that rule but the dullness of that day was just too much to bear for a six-year-boy who craved adventure.

It didn’t take long for his imagination to run wild and rationalize his decision to run off. In his mind, he imagined he wouldn’t get too close and he would come back before his dad noticed he was gone. There’s no way his dad just expected him to sit there and be bored all day! So he ran off, pushing tall grass away without touching it and giggling at how it tickled rather than lightly cutting his arms like it would to someone else.

Eventually, the soft dirt under his feet turned into hard stone, letting him know he was mere seconds away from seeing the quarry he had only started thinking about ten minutes earlier. One shove at a branch and suddenly he was greeted with one of the most breathtaking sights he’d ever seen in his life- not that he was really old enough to cherish it.

The quarry was huge, almost like a canyon in Mike’s mind. He thought the drop below had to be at least 200ft.

It didn’t take long for Mike to decide that getting a closer look couldn’t hurt in the slightest. It was in his best interest! Nobody in the whole wide world could just see the quarry and not get closer. So he did.

He inched closer. Then closer. Ever so slightly closer. Okay, a little closer. Maybe a lot closer. So, maybe too close.

What didn’t occur to Mike was that he had hit the natural edge of the quarry a few inches back. The ground beneath him just grew with every step he took. He didn’t take notice and he didn’t look back.

“Michael,” a voice suddenly stopped him.

Mike stopped, but didn’t bother to look around to find the voice. He just kept walking but at a slower pace.

“Michael,” the voice said yet again.

“Yes?” Mike squeaked out, keeping his eyes ahead.

“What are you doing?” The voice asked.

Mike shrugged, assuming whoever was there could see him. “I wan’ see the quarry my daddy always talks about!”

The voice hummed, “but didn’t he say to stay away?”

Mike paused, then he sat down and thought about it. “But I was bored!”

The voice chuckled. “Michael, it’s time to turn back. You know the way very well.”

Mike huffed as he got up and turned around. What he saw made him almost fall right back over. It was a large strip of stone, perfectly matched to Mike’s small width and as long as he had walked.

“What happened!?” Mike gasped out, his shock was quickly replaced with wonder.

“You made it, Michael,” it explained gently.

“Oh,” Mike sniffed, “can I get rid of it? I don’t wan’ my daddy knowing I was here.”

The voice chuckled again and it made Mike smile in response. “Of course, just go back to the edge and I’ll help you with the rest.”

So Mike did. He hopped along the stone right back to the natural edge of the quarry, mostly unaware of the way the stone path crumbled and fell into the water below. When he turned back around, everything was as it was before. He started walking back home where he knew his parents would be making lunch at this point.

…

Even though everybody had heard their voice relatively young, the youngest of them all was Richie.

When Richie was three, well, he couldn’t exactly speak the right way. He knew words, small sentences but his lisp made things hard to say. The strange thing about Richie was that he knew words he had never been taught by his parents. Words like, “spirit,” or “ability.” Things that Wentworth and Maggie, his parents, would never say and especially in front of a three year old.

The even weirder thing about Richie was that he had the most unusual tendency to be wet. As a baby Richie would be found surrounded by a puddle of water, or wake up from a nap soaked to the bone. When he was learning to crawl and walk, Richie couldn’t do it on tile because he always managed to slip on water that seemed to come from nowhere.

For the first few years of his life, his parents had no reasonable explanation for it. Maggie insisted he just sweated. A lot. Wentworth suggested a leaky roof, but how could he be soaked to the bone even when it hasn’t rained in three weeks? Richie was an unsolved case. The strange unknown “phenomenon” kept them hesitant to send Richie to a daycare or preschool despite how social they knew their son was, especially for a toddler. Maggie convinced most people that there was no point,she was a stay-at-home-mom and Richie was still young .In reality, she couldn’t stand the idea of sending Richie away to people who won’t understand him… even though she didn’t understand either.

It wasn’t until he was four when all their questions were answered.

Another quirk of Richie’s, even as a toddler, was that he could never keep a secret. Obviously he wasn’t trusted with big secrets, like what Wentworth bought Maggie for her birthday, but sometimes one of his parents let out a loud “FUCK” from one room and begged Richie to keep it a secret from the other parent. Not because they really wanted it to be, but because they really didn’t want Richie running around the house chirping out “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” And, well, that never worked.

Richie was playing in his room that afternoon. Most kids liked to play with actual toys, but Richie liked to play with cups of water. He was the only one who could do it too! He made shapes out of the water, his favorite animal (which changed every week) was a popular choice to play with. Today he made a fox, a playful one (at his spirit’s suggestion) that nipped at Richie’s fingers and ran around his room until Richie decided he wanted to cuddle with it instead.

As he sat on his bed, stroking his water-fox, he rattled off question after question.

“Fox bye bye?” Richie whined.

“I’m afraid so, but one day you can keep him by your side.” Water answered.

“But,” Richie sighed, “I wan’ fox! Can I keeps him?”

Water sighed, “I’m sorry, Richard, but nobody can know about him- or you. You know that.”

“... Not mommy and daddy?”

“Not even them.”

Richie huffed and crossed his arms. “Mommy and daddy no tell.” He sat up from his bed and grumbled, “mommy and daddy tolds me I can tell them a-anything .”

“Richard, let's just play! Make another animal!” Richie sighed, happy that his spirit’s serious tone was gone and rolled off his bed.

“I wan’ cracker.” Then Richie padded off to his bedroom door.

He yanked the heavy door open with all his strength, but he forgot about the fox still running around his room . It let out a loud yip and charged out the door and down the stairs where his parents were watching tv. Richie watched it run down the stairs with wide eyes, ignoring the way Water was screaming in his ear to stop him! Richard, no! But he was paralized.

He heard a shrill scream come from both his parent’s mouths. That’s when he ran downstairs.

…

Despite all the spirits being connected and having similar experiences growing up, they didn’t meet until they were freshmen in high school.

Eddie was homeschooled for a large chunk of his life. He was only allowed to go to school in his last year of middle school, which was probably the most miserable year of his life. Even then, it was a private school. He fought tooth and nail to be allowed into a normal public high school, demanding that his mother gave him a single normal experience. Amazingly, Air didn’t speak once during the fight. Eddie thought that Air would argue against Eddie, considering their belief is that Eddie should be in the forest , perfecting his ability. Eventually, his mother caved, but only because the constant storm patterns scared her into believing that god was angry with her.

Beverly spent elementary and middle school in an all girl’s school. There, she was heavily bullied. Beverly never really understood why, other than the fact that little girls were the biggest assholes in the world. She was miserable every single day of her life as long as she attended there and went home to her father. It was horrible, she couldn’t handle it anymore. Fueled by Fire’s demands to stick up for herself and the anger of being harassed again and again and again, Beverly burned a girl’s cheek. It wasn’t until after what she had done that she realized she didn’t have a lie that could save her secret from being let out. So, she set the school on fire. Lucky for her, nobody could find the source of the Fire. Nobody was going to believe a group of girls, who were notorious for hating Beverly, that it was her fault. Beverly was moved into Derry’s public high school when school started again.

Mike was homeschooled until high school. He begged his family to let him have any other sort of experience, just to be around other kids his age- other people! Despite the constant bitching from Earth in his head that this is perfect for you! A young spirit needs the freedom you have. It was annoying, but Mike didn’t let any of it get to him in the end. Eventually, his parents caved and let him do his last piece of school in a public school with all the other kids.

Then there was Richie. After his parents discovered their son’s unique ability and voice of reason in his head, they had to quickly adapt to accept their son for who he was . They didn’t like the sound of Richie saying that his destiny is to be alone with the water one day- or that’s what Water told him. So Maggie had homeschooled him until middle school. She hated to admit how afraid she was that her son with such a wandering mind would run away with the voice in his head demanding it, or even find out from a teacher that Richie had revealed himself. But she couldn’t contain Richie for long. Richie was allowed to go to a public middle school and high school with the promise that he’d keep his secret safe- no matter how guilty she felt about it.

It had to happen eventually. The four spirits are expected to work in harmony but from a distance. That’s how they worked for years, knowing of each other’s existence but only ever coming together during an important situation. Unfortunately for the spirits, humans don’t work that way. Meeting each other was all the teenagers could dream of when they learned there were others like them. It was going to happen no matter what.

It terrified the spirits.

...

Read the rest on Ao3

#reddie #benverly #stanlonbrough #meet me in the woods #my writing

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anotherkpopvictim · 5 years

Text

All That You Are (Is All That I’ll Ever Need) - VHope Littlespace Drabble

(Source - taegidda)

Request from starbabiebangtan on tumblr: “Vhope bc i cant resist baby Tae sndjdjdjdj I’m sorry LOL But another Vhope, where Taehyung is insecure because of how he feels like he looks more like a daddy to Hoseok than the other way around bc of him being taller and having a deeper voice than Hobi. Hobi does his best to reassure him that he is his little baby no matter what, and continues to go ahead and love on his baby and it causes him to regress v young bc im a sucker for baby space as well 🥺 ”

A/N: this sounded very interesting! I hope I did your request justice :P And thank you for all the awesome ideas you’ve given me!!

Also, the title is from Tenerife Sea by Ed Sheeran.

Pairing: Little!Taehyung X Caregiver!Hoseok

Rating: T (swearing, panic attack)

Words: 3250

Hurt/comfort, fluff

WARNINGS: Taehyung has a panic attack in this. It is not very detailed, but I don’t want to trigger anyone.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Taehyung and Hoseok had been together for forever.

Okay, two years officially, but they had also gone through a phase of what the rest of the BTS members had dubbed “everyone else knew you two were together except you” for about four or five years (forever), which wasn't completely untrue. Jimin and Jungkook could vouch for that – they made sure their fellow maknae line member understood just how much pining they witnessed from Taehyung. Hyung line said the same about Hoseok.

But their incorrect feelings of unrequited love didn't matter anymore, because they were very happily boyfriends now. Sure, they had been through their fights just like any other couple did, but in the end, they loved each other in a way that no one could deny and they always orbited back to each other.

More than boyfriends, Hoseok was also Taehyung's caregiver when he slipped into littlespace. The older had a soft spot for the little and their friends always made fun of him for it, calling him “whipped”. Any time that happened, Taehyung would assure his hyung that he was very happy he loved little Tae so much (Hoseok would then puff his chest out like a gorilla, all proud, and it was so adorable honestly Taehyung couldn’t handle it sometimes).

As their Love Yourself: Tear album promotions came around, the two of them were in a place where they were completely comfortable and happy with each other. They hadn’t even had a real fight in months.

So, of course, just as they relaxed, something else came up that threw them off-kilter - this time in the form of insecurities.

It was during a fan sign that it really began. Taehyung and Hoseok just happened to be seated next to each other, and they were very careful to keep their closeness to a friend level. It wasn’t often that management allowed them to sit next to each other, and they weren’t about to mess up the chance they’d finally been given just because they couldn’t keep their heart eyes to themselves for a few hours.

A girl around twenty years old, who introduced herself as Jisoo, was in line to get their autographs and talk to them for their forty-five second time frame. When she reached Hoseok (the second last in the row of seats) she smiled brightly, showing off her cute smile. “You guys are so inspiring!” she gushed, “Thank you for promoting self-love, it's really helped me.”

The lead dancer couldn't help but grin back at her, “I'm glad. You guys have helped us achieve so many of our goals, and we want to use our success to spread a good message to everyone.”

Hoseok passed the girl's poster of all the members (now signed everywhere apart from below Taehyung's picture) over to the second youngest beside him, and they let their hands linger a little longer than they probably should have. Sometimes they really couldn’t help it.

Taehyung gave his hyung a quick side smile, more meaning behind the small action than anyone else could see.

“Oh my gosh! You guys are so cute! VHope for the win!” Jisoo held up a fist in a “fighting!” motion, a teasing grin on her face as she watched the two of them.

“Oh,” Taehyung chuckled, looking away to properly sign her poster. “Thank you.”

“And your size difference is adorable!” she said, now gaining Taehyung's sole attention as Hoseok moved on to the next fan in line. “Hoseok looks so tiny next to you, I bet you could pick him up without any trouble.”

Maybe it was a little odd to say something like that, a little straightforward, but Taehyung got the feeling that Jisoo was the kind of girl to speak her mind.

“Y-Yeah,” Taehyung silently cursed himself for stuttering, but he was a little taken aback by the comment. He knew Jisoo didn't mean anything bad by it, but it made Taehyung's brain start going into overdrive, just like it always did when all he could think about were his insecurities.

She was right; Taehyung and Hoseok were definitely different in size, but not like Jimin and Namjoon were. There was only about two inches difference in height between the lead dancer and the vocalist, but Taehyung was undoubtedly more broad than his hyung. So yes, Taehyung was naturally bigger than Hoseok was, but he'd never really thought about it before now.

Did Hoseok have a hard time picking him up sometimes, like he did quite often in littlespace? Did Hoseok think it was weird that the bigger person between the two of them was also the one to regress into a child-like headspace sometimes?

No, Taehyung told himself, stopping his thoughts abruptly, Hoseok loved him too much for that. He would never hold something so insignificant against him.

...Right?

“It was so nice to meet you, Jisoo,” Taehyung replied, the smile on his face feeling a little more put on than before. “I hope you continue to support us. We will do the best we can for you!”

Despite his best efforts, the thoughts plagued the second youngest for the rest of the day. He had to hide his mood from Hoseok and Jimin, and managed to evade them by saying he wasn’t feeling well and hiding in his room.

But that was it.

After that day, Taehyung was thrown headfirst into preparing for their repackaged album release and another tour. He didn’t have time to really think about anything, let alone the moment with Jisoo at the fan sign, but it was still there, admittedly, in the back of his mind.

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

“Jeon Jungkook, if you don’t get down here this instant!-”

A smirking maknae looked down from his spot on the tree branch...thirty feet up in the air. At the base of the tree stood an extremely unimpressed Seokjin with his hands on his hips.

“What are you going to do, hyung?” Jungkook asked tauntingly, “Are you going to put me in time out?”

Seokjin narrowed his eyes, “No, but I will take away your television rights for two weeks, in or out of littlespace.”

Jungkook gasped, looking a little more scared now, “You wouldn’t. You love little me too much.”

“Try me, bitch.”

With an overly exaggerated whine of annoyance, Jungkook began his trek back down the tree.

“Be careful!” Namjoon shouted, joining Jin at the base of the tree. “If you fall and get hurt management is going to kill me!”

“Is that all you’re worried about, hyung?” Taehyung asked, a smirk on his lips as he looked on from a nearby lounge chair, “Not that Jungkook could get hurt, but that management would kill you if he did?”

Namjoon turned away from the tall tree to glare at the younger and smack him over the head. “Brat.”

“My brat!” Hoseok burst out of the doors of their accommodations and pushed Namjoon out of the way so he could cuddle his injured baby in his arms. “Don’t hit him, Namjoon!”

As Namjoon grumbled under his breath and walked off, Hoseok pressed a kiss to the back of a pouting Taehyung’s head. It didn’t even really hurt all that much, as Namjoon hadn’t hit that hard, but Taehyung was enjoying his boyfriend’s attention too much to tell him that.

All the members of BTS were spending a rare few days off between tour dates, and currently, they were in Chicago. Management had rented a cabin-like house on the outskirts of the city for their three-day stay.

“TAEHYUNG!” Jimin screamed as he came running out of the house.

“SOULMATE!” Taehyung screamed, sitting up from his hyung’s embrace like a meerkat scoping out the land.

Jimin jumped on top of the Taehyung-Hoseok pile, causing the two on the bottom to grunt at the sudden added weight.

“Jimin...” Hoseok whined, weakly using his partially trapped hands to push the younger off of them.

The attacker backed off with a wicked grin, “Sorry, hyung!” (He didn’t sound all that sorry).

“What did you need, soulmate?” Taehyung asked, sitting up properly and fixing his messed up hair.

“Oh,” Jimin said like he just remembered why he’d come here in the first place, “Yoongi thinks he has a lower voice than you, so I need you to prove him wrong.”

“What?” Taehyung chuckled.

“You obviously have the lowest voice out of all of us! I just need you to sing a lower note than him so I can get my ten-thousand won.”

Taehyung shrugged, standing up from the lounge chair and starting to follow his eager best friend into the house. The others were only a few feet behind them.

“Taehyung’s voice is definitely lower than Yoongi’s,” Jungkook stated, “I’ll bet twenty-thousand won!”

Namjoon snorted, “You’re on, dumbass. Yoongi’s totally going to win.”

Jin and Hoseok rolled their eyes and looked at each other with matching expressions that said “Idiots”.

They all entered the living room to find Yoongi lounging on the couch, typing away at the keyboard on his laptop. The oldest rapper looked up at the sudden noise and frowned, unimpressed, when he saw all of them filing into the room. “You actually got them, Jimin? Seriously?”

“We made a bet and I’m eager to get some ice cream with the money I’m going to win,” Jimin replied, arms crossed and chin in the air.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Alright, Tae, let’s go.”

Taehyung and Yoongi proceeded to have a low note battle, while five other pairs of eyes watched on in fascination. It started off easily, but as the notes got lower and lower, Taehyung noticed Yoongi beginning to really struggle to make a noise.

It was Taehyung who won in the end (much to Jungkook and Jimin’s delight and Yoongi and Namjoon’s disappointment) and he smirked as Jimin dragged a sulking Yoongi out the front door and to the corner store down the street. Namjoon slapped the twenty-thousand won into Jungkook’s awaiting palm a little harder than necessary, but the maknae decided not to say anything about it because he had some beautiful money in his possession. (A/N: bts forgetting they’re millionaires part 382750????)

“Ooh, listen to my baby’s sexy voice!” Hoseok exclaimed, sliding up to Taehyung from behind and wrapping his arms around his waist, lips pressing a kiss to his right ear. “So deep and hot as fuck.”

Taehyung chuckled and turned his head a bit so his boyfriend could kiss him on the lips, “Thanks, Seokie.”

The moment was ruined when a certain maknae fake gagged and yelled, “EW!”

All his bandmates (minus Jimin and Yoongi) began complimenting his deep voice. Taehyung accepted the praise with a smile and a light pink blush on his cheeks.

It wasn’t until later that night (because night was the time to reflect on the day) that Taehyung thought about it again.

He never particularly loved his voice like so many did, sometimes he wished that his voice wasn’t so low. Maybe it was because a lot of the comments he saw said things like “Taehyung’s voice is so sexy! He’s such a daddy!” and “V’s looks and his deep voice just scream “she calls me daddy too”” and other things that were a little more...explicit. Now, Taehyung adored these compliments, even the extremely dirty ones, because they were from his fans, but his little side didn’t like it one bit.

The moment with the fan (Jisoo, he recalled) from nearly half a year ago popped back up in his head. Hoseok was smaller than him, and Taehyung had a deeper voice too. Hoseok always told him how much he loved his deep voice, but Taehyung was a little, was it strange for someone in a four-year-old’s headspace to sound like a grown man?

Jimin and Jungkook, who were also littles, didn’t really have to worry about that with their caregivers - Jimin had a naturally high voice and Jungkook easily spoke in a tone reminiscent of a child.

Surely Hoseok had noticed their differences and probably thought about them. Did he hate them and was just too nice to tell Taehyung how uncomfortable it made him? Did he resent Taehyung for being so...strange?

Taehyung stood up from his bed and stumbled from his room to the bathroom across the hallway. He felt a tightness in his throat and a buzzing in his ears suddenly as he slammed through the door. He knew it was the start of a panic attack, and he tried his best to calm himself down with deep breaths. He splashed some cold water onto his face, uncaring that it wet his bangs. His hands then gripped the edge of the counter as his thoughts began to spin out of his control.

He needed Hoseok and he needed him now.

Like a miracle, a knocking from the door broke through the buzzing in Taehyung’s ears. He couldn’t speak, so he just made a sound, something that came out like a mix between a groan and a whine.

And then Jin was by his side on the ground (when had he fallen to the floor?) and holding his shoulders gently. The older was speaking to him probably, but Taehyung couldn’t hear him, could barely see him through the tears forming in his eyes.

Jin turned and shouted something over his shoulder and then a few moments later a frazzled looking Hoseok appeared in the doorway.

Taehyung’s eyes seemed to only be able to focus on his Daddy’s worried gaze as he hurried over to him.

“-Baby!” was the first word Taehyung heard from Hoseok, “I need you to follow my breaths, okay?” The older grabbed Taehyung’s hands and placed them on his own chest, beginning to exaggerate deep breaths for the younger to follow along to.

Taehyung tried his best to take in deep breaths and in a few minutes, he felt his heart rate decreasing from where it was in near hyperspeed. “’M sorry, Daddy” he said, his voice weak from his tense throat.

Hoseok shushed him and moved to wrap his arms securely around him, leaning them both against the bathroom cabinets. “You don’t ever have to be sorry for having a panic attack, Taehyungie,” he sounded a little out of breath, but completely sincere. “What’s going on, bub?”

“TaeTae sad!” Taehyung blurted before he could stop it - little him had always been more open about his feelings.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Hoseok replied, “Why are you sad, baby?”

“TaeTae too...TaeTae too...sexy...” the younger mumbled the last word in embarrassment.

Hoseok looked shocked, “What?”

“TaeTae b-bigger than Daddy...a-and he have low voice...TaeTae is bad little!” Taehyung burst into tears, moving to bury his face in his hyung’s chest.

“Oh, my baby,” Hoseok cooed, “You are not a bad little. You’re Daddy’s best boy.”

Taehyung stayed in his hiding place and shook his head vehemently, hands clutching the fabric of the older’s t-shirt.

Hoseok held him closely and pressed a fond kiss to the top of his head. “Do you think I don’t like you because of your deep voice and your height?”

“TaeTae weird.”

“No, TaeTae is unique,” Hoseok corrected, pulling the little away from his chest so he could see the sincerity in his expression. “Baby, I love you so much, exactly the way you are.”

“D-Daddy don’t think it’s weird TaeTae don’t look like a baby or sound like a baby?” the younger inquired, big eyes looking up at his hyung with hope.

Hoseok smiled and booped his nose. “No, sweetie, Daddy doesn’t think it’s weird.”

“D-Daddy doesn’t hurt himself picking TaeTae up?” he asked.

The older frowned jokingly, “Hey! I’m very strong, you know! Of course I can pick up my baby.”

Taehyung would have laughed if the situation were any different, but as it was, he couldn’t help but burst into tears once more - this time, though, they were happy tears. “TaeTae love Daddy.”

“Love you too, bub,” Hoseok replied, one of his arms moving so he could rub up and down the little’s back soothingly. “So, so much.”

Taehyung hiccuped through some more tears as the reassurance filled him with a familiar warmth and calmness. His eyes brightened just a little bit more and his hands shook as he grappled at the older’s shirt. “D-D-Dada.”

Hoseok’s smile grew at the new name, indicating that the younger had slipped into babyspace. Taehyung had to feel extremely safe to fall into such a deep headspace, and the older didn’t mind because baby Taehyung was just as adorable as every other Taehyung. “Hi, baby.”

The younger still had tears shining in his big, bright eyes, but he smiled through them cutely, “Dada!”

Hoseok attacked his face with kisses, causing the baby to giggle uncontrollably. When he pulled away again, the older said, “Now, TaeTae was supposed to be sleeping, but how about we go see if anyone is still awake and wants to watch some cartoons with us?”

Taehyung didn’t respond, but Hoseok had expected that - he was too young to fully comprehend his words. The other just looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky, like Hoseok was the younger’s everything (that wasn’t actually all that far off from what the baby was thinking).

After hitching the baby easily onto his hip, Hoseok stood up and made his way out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom. He laid Taehyung on the soft bed and moved to grab a cute tan puppy onesie from the boy’s suitcase. He kept a close eye on the baby, who was beginning to wiggle around on the bed curiously.

After grabbing a pacifier from the emergency little bag (thank god he had remembered it) Hoseok returned to his baby and slipped the rubber teat effortlessly between his lips. Taehyung blinked up at him and suckled at the pacifier as he watched Hoseok change him.

The older secured a diaper around the little’s waist and worked on zipping him into his adorable puppy onesie.

When he was finished, Hoseok took a moment to look down at Taehyung. The baby looked so cute it was almost too much to handle...so, naturally, Hoseok snapped a picture and sent it to their group chat.

MEMETAN (MuscleBunny - Jungkook, SmolBoi - Jimin, Dimples - Namjoon, JHoe - Hoseok, TongueTechnology - Yoongi, MrWorldWideHandsome - Seokjin)

JHoe: anyone who wants to join baby taetae and me for some cartoons is welcome to come to the living room

JHoe: *attached image*

MrWorldwideHandsome: omg *gasp* he’s so cute!!!!!!!!!!!!

SmolBoi: lol Jungkooks running naruto style there now and im right behind him

MuscleBunny: i csll dibbs on cuddlin the babu!111

Dimples: me too!!!

MrWorldwideHandsome: what about you yoongi?

TongueTechnology: yea ok I’m coming too

SmolBoi: dont act so tsundere yoongi

SmolBoi: we all know you have a soft spot for baby taetae

TongueTechnology: oh yea like you don’t all have one too

JHoe: taetae is very excited to see you all :)

Dimples: we’d better watch some good fucking cartoons or I’m out though

MrWorldwideHandsome: yea like Clifford or Paw Patrol!!!!!

SmolBoi: we all know taetaes gonna be the one to pick

JHoe: update:

JHoe: Jungkook has arrived in the living room and has slipped into littlespace

JHoe: he’s now cuddling with baby taetae

Dimples: OMG IVE GOTTA SEE THIS

TongueTechnology: IM ON MY WAY FOR THE OVERLOAD OF CUTENESS

MrWorldwideHandsome: uwu!

SmolBoi: those two will be the death of me with how adorable they are

JHoe: the cuddle pile is waiting :)

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A/N: not my favorite ending, but yeah.

Tell me what you thought of me adding some background couples and extra OT7 cuteness! I thought I’d try something a bit different this time.

If you would like to request a BTS littlespace drabble, you can go to my Request Guidelines page :)

I love you guys!

#bts #bts littlespace #bts little space #bts v #bts taehyung #bts jhope #bts hoseok #kim taehyung #jung hoseok #bts drabble #bts drabbles #bts fanfic #bts fanfics #bts fanfiction #bts vhope #vhope

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lyravellas · 5 years

Text

and many more

Kravitz does not have a birthday.

Obviously he had a birthday at some point, years and years ago, but he certainly doesn’t remember it anymore. That’s just kind of what happens when you’re a. dead and b. the grim reaper for an extended period of time. The situation doesn’t lend itself particularly well to maintaining a steady social life, much less yearly celebrations with friends. The Raven Queen is very nice, but she doesn’t really know what birthdays are. Kravitz isn’t completely sure if she was ever actually born. The metaphysics of Faerun is a somewhat headache-inducing situation.

He mentions all of this to Taako during a lull in the conversation one night, while the elf is draped idly across both his lap and the sofa in front of the television. Taako is not an easy person to dumbfound — being a universe-hopping, planet-saving, wildly successful chef and wizard can do that to you — but this information absolutely blows him away. Kravitz would gloat about it, but he’s too busy dealing with an immediate, rapid-fire line of questioning from his boyfriend: how old is he, exactly? (He’s not sure.) Does he know what month his birthday was in? (He doesn’t.) Does he even remember the last time he had a birthday party? (He does not. He can’t even remember what he had for breakfast this morning. This is a lost cause.) Taako speaks with his hands like he always does when he gets excited about things, punctuating each question with exclamations like “How did this happen, Krav? How?!” and a few emphatic statements of “What the fuck!” as prestidigitated sparks shoot wildly from his fingertips.

Once Kravitz has reassured his boyfriend that yes, he did have an actual birthday at one point and no, he didn’t spring fully-fledged from the brain of the Raven Queen when he was born (“Sweetie, what the hell?”), Taako reclines back down into his lap and hums thoughtfully to himself. He runs a finger absently through Kravitz’s hair out of habit. It sends a few wayward sparks fizzing gently about the reaper’s ears.

Then Taako excuses himself rather abruptly by launching his entire body up and over the back of the sofa with a wholly unnecessary levitation spell, startling both Kravitz and their cats in the process. After a solemn apology to James Buffett Jr. and Stinky Fur Man, Taako waves his stone of farspeech wildly around his head and declares that he needs to take a call (“Do you mean make a call, darling?” “I never make calls, I only take them.”). He then departs the room with a flourish, after tilting Kravitz’s head back for a lingering kiss that leaves the reaper feeling more than a little light-headed.

Taako is gone for several minutes. Kravitz becomes preoccupied with staring very hard at the wallpaper and trying to remember how old he actually is. He is unsuccessful. He develops a very bad headache in the process.

When Taako finally returns, he throws himself dramatically back onto the couch (and into Kravitz’s lap), and declares, “Alright babe, you’re gonna share mine.”

And Kravitz says “What?” because it’s been ten minutes, he has a headache, and Taako is pretty to the point of being very distracting.

The elf tucks the stone of farspeech back beneath the collar of his shirt and snaps his fingers (which forces Kravitz to tear his gaze away from the mesmerizing strip of skin at the curve of his boyfriend’s collarbone). “You’re gonna share my birthday. I went and talked to Lulu about it, and she says it’s fine. She’s excited about it, actually, even though I don’t think she’ll ever let me live this one down.” He sighs dramatically. “Ch’boy always used to complain about having to share a birthday back when we were kids, and now here I am asking her for a plus one. The things I do for love.” Taako pauses and then squints up at his boyfriend. “Krav. You doin’ alright up there? You’ve been kinda quiet.”

Kravitz is experiencing a very large number of emotions in a very small period of time.

He recognizes excitement almost immediately — if there’s one thing that he remembers about birthdays, it’s that they’re a lot of fun. And now he gets to experience his with the people he loves most in the world. The thought of spending a day surrounded by Taako’s endearing grandstanding and Lup’s infectious laughter sends warmth whispering through his silent veins.

There’s also a little bit of fear, because he was at the twin’s last birthday and so he knows exactly what can happen at their parties. And if he and Lucretia have to explain to the authorities why the entire city of New Phandalin levitated into the air for exactly twenty-six minutes again, then he is absolutely going to come back to life just so he can die again.

But for some reason, he also feels sad.

He hasn’t thought about things like this, like birthdays and balloons and parties, for years. It’s just been him and his job, alone except for the distant lights floating in the never-ending expanse of the astral plane, for as long as he can remember. The Raven Queen used to gently encourage him to try going out and meeting new people, but all of her well-meaning attempts had steadily diminished over the years as he’d continued to rebuff her suggestions.

Kravitz’s greatest fear has always been this: if he lets himself get tangled back up in the world of the living, the weight of all the things that he failed to do before joining the Raven Queen’s retinue will eventually crush him.

For far too many years to count, he’d refused to let himself believe that there might be any option besides cutting himself off from the material plane entirely. But now this beautiful, lovable elf, who is too loud and too brash and too proud sometimes (and who he loves more than life itself), has taken him by the hands and pulled him headfirst into something he hadn’t even let himself realize he’d missed.

He can feel a strange wetness gathering behind his eyes; a sensation that feels comfortingly familiar, yet still somewhat alien after all the years that time has spent moving steadily on without him.

Taako sits up and puts his arms around Kravitz and just holds him silently for a while. He gets it. Both of them do. Loneliness leaves scars that re-open at the strangest times.

They stay like that until Kravitz finally lifts his face from where it’s buried in Taako’s shoulder, and James Buffet Jr. takes the opportunity to hop up onto his lap and curl into his arms to make sure he’s okay. Then they sit together on the sofa as the television drones gently on in the background and talk about plans for their next birthday: about how great it’s going to be, about how Merle is not allowed near the flower arrangements, about how Barry is absolutely not allowed to raise any members of the fantasy Beatles from the dead to perform. Eventually, the few wayward tears give way to laughter instead.

Their next birthday is legendary.

The moon is directly overhead and also on fire for the better part of thirty-five minutes. An entire building in Rockport gets transmuted into a fourteen-layer birthday cake. The Raven Queen shows up — making several individuals in attendance nearly pass out in fear — in order to wish everyone a happy birthday, and also to figure out what exactly a birthday actually is. She walks around arm in arm with Istus, who brings everyone hand-knitted sweaters as presents. All of the clergymen in the nearby vicinity collectively shit themselves in amazement.

After the festivities are all over and everyone has returned to their respective homes, Kravitz and Taako find themselves back on their sofa, with the radio in the background reporting softly on the ridiculously ostentatious display of fireworks that had lit up the skies over Neverwinter that evening.

“How was your very first birthday à la Taako, cupcake?” Taako asks Kravitz as the latter flops down onto his lap. “Actually quick side note, we definitely have to figure out how old your ass actually is at some point. Not that it’d make much of a difference, since you’ve got the whole spooky scary skeleton thing going on at work most of the time, but I want to see the look on people’s faces when I tell them that my boyfriend is over six hundred years old.”

“That’s an adventure for another time, I think.” A smile creeps across Kravitz’s lips. “Lucretia just finished putting out the moon. I don’t think Faerun can take any more excitement in one night.”

“Boring, but fair.” Taako sighs in mock disappointment. “That leaves yours truly with the responsibility of ‘final surprise of the night’, then.” He snaps his fingers and a perfectly wrapped package materializes in the palm of his hand, accompanied by a glittery puff of magical confetti. “Ta-da! Faerun’s favorite wizard does it again.”

Kravitz clears his throat. “Not to one-up Faerun’s favorite wizard, but...” he trails off as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, clumsily wrapped package.

Taako puts a hand over his heart and pretends to fan himself in shock. “Betrayal! Upstaged by the love of my life! I’ll let it slide it this time, Krav, but next time...” He continues his mock tirade as he lifts the gift out of Kravitz’s hands and leans forward to press a kiss to the side of his jaw. “Next time I’m talking dozens of major images, plus a Taako original dance number! Me, popping out of a chocolate fountain, dressed in lingerie that is not from Fantasy Costco! Just you wait.”

Kravitz raises an eyebrow and manages to keep a straight face. “Consider me warned,” he says, as Taako begins unwrapping the package. Kravitz’s fingers move toward his own gift, but he pauses and watches with bated breath as his boyfriend tears off the final layer of wrapping paper.

Taako lifts the lid off of a tiny brown box and peers inside. Even Faerun’s favorite wizard can’t manage to keep the shock off of his face.

“It’s not a... this isn’t a proposal,” Kravitz says quickly. “We don’t have to... you know, do anything in the near future, if you don’t want to, it’s just sort of... it’s a promise? Since we talked about it, and I—”

Taako uses one hand to take the ring out of the box and the other to press a finger to Kravitz’s lips. “Yes. Yes, of course, you gigantic nerd. I love it. I love you.”

Kravitz scoops Taako up into a wordless hug, spinning him around while simultaneously trying to land kisses wherever he can reach, smiling as the elf lets out a peal of laughter.

“So the way I see it, we’ve got two options.” Taako wraps his arms around Kravitz’s neck as the reaper sets him back down onto the ground. “Option one: we get hitched next Tuesday. We invite everyone. We party, ride off into the sunset, and then bang. Easy peasy.” A mischievous smile spreads across the elf’s face. “Or, option two: we play the long game.”

Kravitz’s grin maches Taako’s. “An extended engagement, then?”

“Lup and Barold refused to admit that they even liked each other for years. It was torture.” Taako rolls his eyes. “But we’ve got all the time in the world, hot stuff! So let’s drag this out. Be as lovey-dovey as possible. Really make ‘em wait for it.”

Kravitz laughs. “But... not for too long,” he says, reaching up to rest his palm against his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Not for too long,” Taako agrees.

#taz balance #taz #the adventure zone #taakitz #THIS HAS NOT BEEN EDITED FORGIVE ME #I JUST MISS THEM #taz fanfic #lauren's writing tag

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frenchy-and-the-sea · 5 years

Note

A for Val!!!

Minific was the name of the game. This is likely not what it meant.

But, y’know. Val. Family. Feelings. It’s all par for the course at this point. So here’s three different scenes about Val using thaumaturgy.

2500ish words.

—–

The candle just wouldn’t burn.

Or rather, it wouldn’t burn the way Val wanted it to. The little funny word in Infernal that her mother had taught her - the one that made torches burn brighter, or changed them brilliant purple in an instant - only seemed to startle whatever birds chanced to land nearby, and make whoever was milling by on the trade road walk just a little bit faster.

Val growled, pitching forward onto her hands and knees, and lowering herself down until she was eye level with the flame.

“Get bigger,” she hissed, in Common this time: the candle just flickered with the puff of her breath.

“Ohhh, I think you startled it.”

Val’s head shot up at the voice, and turned to the familiar silhouette casting its shadow over her. Even through the glare of the sun, she could make out the spiraling tower of horns, the dark red skin, the unbroken slate black eyes; everything that would suggest her father, except for the coal-colored hair cut short around his ears, parted neatly to one side, and the wry smile pulling at his lips. The anger that had been cooling in her evaporated completely, replaced with a sudden rush of excitement as she sprang to her feet.

“Uncle Imren!” she cried. He barely got both hands out before she launched herself at him, clinging to his forearms when he buckled under her weight.

“Whoa!” He scooped an arm beneath her so that she was propped against his hip and laughed. “Gods, you’re getting big! One day you’re going to have to pick me up like this.”

Val sat upright in his arms and wrinkled her nose. “You’re being silly.”

“I’m not! One day, you’re going to be taller than a dragon. And he’ll see how big you are, and he’ll puff up and start breathing dragonsmoke, and -” He paused then, sniffing at something in the air, and stole a glance downwards. “Ah.”

Val followed his gaze to where her little candle was laying sideways in the grass, knocked over in the scramble and just starting to torch the drier grasses around it. She made a little noise of alarm, but her uncle didn’t so much as flinch. He just muttered something under his breath - a familiar something, Val realized - and the little flame began to dim. The last few embers, he smothered beneath the tip of his tail. Val clutched at the front of his shirt, gasping.

“Uncle!”

He looked up just as she pushed out of his grip, and scrambled to catch her. “Easy, easy Valtish! Gods, what is it?”

Val took no heed of his valiant attempts to stop her from toppling to the grass; she let herself roll down into the dirt, then scrambled up and set the candle back into its stand.

“You can make it bigger, right?” she asked as she turned, beaming. “Cause mum can, and so can da, and I keep trying ‘cause they taught me the word but it’s not working, and they’re busy, and -”

“Alright, alright,” her uncle laughed, waving a hand to cut her off. He stepped to the opposite side of the candle and sank down onto the ground, so quietly that Val couldn’t even hear the grasses bend, then pulled a piece of flint from the satchel on his hip and gestured her way. “Let’s see what you’re doing.”

Determined now, Val plopped herself solidly onto the ground again, leaning forward and focusing as her uncle relit the candle in front of her. She waited for the flame to steady in the faint afternoon breeze, then took a deep breath, narrowed her eyes and muttered the same word that she had heard Imren use.

The candle didn’t so much as flicker.

She tried again, leaning closer, eyes narrowed even further. Still, nothing. The third time, her voice cracked as she spoke, and Imren reached out a hand and gently pushed her back.

“Easy now,” he said softly, wiping away the hot tears that had begun to well in her eyes. “This doesn’t mean you won’t ever get it. Nine hells, it took your father almost a year to do it right. And now he’s a master of all sorts of magic, isn’t he?“

Val sniffled and scrubbed the lines of her tears from her face. "Guess so.”

Imren hummed quietly, and then Val heard him slide sideways through the grass, until he was hunched right beside her. He pressed an elbow into her shoulder, warm and familiar.

“In fact,” he said quietly, leaning down, “I happen to know how he figured it out too. Want me to tell you?”

Val looked up, still sniffling, but the mischief glittering in her uncle’s eyes banished the last of her tears. She nodded, and his grin widened.

Very carefully, he removed his flint from its satchel again.

“Your father,” he said, as he turned it over in his hand, “always did magic better when he had something to do. It’s why he sings or plays the lute when he does it, understand? It makes more sense in his mind that way.” Out of the corner of her eye, Val saw a flash of metal, and watched with wide eyes as her uncle withdrew a wicked looking knife from somewhere around his waist. “Now, this particular spell only requires the word, but sometimes, if he was having trouble getting it right, he would pretend that he was adding to the fire himself. Like so.”

In one quick motion, he struck the flint with the spine of his knife and sent a shower of sparks scattering through the grass. Val recoiled instinctively, but her uncle’s tail swept over the patch of earth and smothered whatever grass was starting to catch. Then he held the flint towards her.

“Do exactly what I did,” he said as she slowly reached out to take it, “but pretend your fingers are the knife. Don’t hit the rock there, just make the motion. Atta girl, just like that.”

He slipped the knife away with a simple flick of his wrist and grabbed Val’s hands as she began gesturing them frantically towards each other, making little adjustments until it looked, to her little mind, like she was nearly scratching the edge of the flint with each pass. He let her practice a few more times, then swept the candle back in front of her with the tip of his tail.

“Now,” he said, with a gesture towards it, “try again. With the word, this time.”

Charged with a sudden surge of adrenaline, Val straightened her shoulders, reached back and struck a wide arc over the flint, all but shouting as she did. Her heart pounded hard in her chest as the candle flickered, wavered…

And stubbornly refused to grow.

This time, the tears came too quickly to stop, and her uncle’s arm swept around her and pulled her up into a crushing hug as they broke across her cheeks.

“Keep practicing, kid,” he said softly, as she fisted little claws into the front of his shirt and sobbed. “You’ll get it soon.”

—————

The candle hung heavily in Val’s pocket, bouncing off of her knee as she ran.

She could hear her mother’s laughter behind her, growing steadily fainter as she pounded across the hillside towards the last place that she had seen the wagon. Her uncle’s arrival had been unannounced, as usual: but as usual, her mother had been prepared. Val shoved a hand into her dress pocket to keep her candle from tumbling out and willed her legs even faster.

Miraculously, neither her uncle nor her father noticed her approach. They were standing beside the wagon, locked in a low, intense conversation as she skidded around the base of the hill.

“…. no real aptitude for magic,” her father was saying as she came into earshot, barely seconds before his eyes flicked up over his brother’s shoulder and caught sight of her bounding their way. He stepped back instinctively.

“Valtish,” he started, his tone a warning; but Val was already hunched low, and she sprang for her uncle’s waist with a wild cry of triumph.

Imren, for his part, did not so much as flinch as he spun neatly on a heel and snatched her up into his arms.

“Aha!” he cried, hoisting her onto a hip as she shrieked with delight. “There’s the ferocious little lion cub I was looking for. Who taught you to creep up like that, huh? Your dad?” He turned to leer pointedly back at her father away. “He’s the sneaky one of the two of us, after all.”

“No, uncle,” Val giggled as her father rolled his dark eyes, “you’re the sneaky one!”

“Am I? Why, I hadn’t noticed.”

Grinning, he pulled her into a tight hug, digging fingers into her sides until until she squealed and thrashed in his arms.

“Well,“ he said, when she finally managed to push herself away, “if that’s my handiwork, I ought to teach you how to do it right, huh?”

A sudden panic fluttered in Val’s chest. She made a wordless noise of protest, wrenching around in her uncle’s grip. If he was going to teach her anything, she thought to herself, he needed to know his success first. She snatched the candle in her pocket and then held it up in front of him, so close to his face that she saw him go cross eyed.

"Watch!” she demanded, then swung her tiny fist in an arc over the candle’s wick. The candle remained unlit - a mistake that she only realized ten minutes later, in retrospect - but the lantern hung on the wagon’s door beside them suddenly blazed higher in its case, shifting to a vibrant blue the color of a summer sea. Her uncle and father turned, startled, as Val threw her hands up with a whoop of triumph.

“Did you see?” she asked, turning to face her uncle again. “Did you see what I -”

Imren was not looking at her. His dark eyes were fixed on the lantern flame with an intensity that drove the last of Val’s excitement straight down into her gut.

“I see,” he said quietly. Then his eyes shifted towards her, and she caught a faint grin twitching at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”

Her excitement flared up again, hot as the lantern burning behind them. She nodded furiously.

“I did what you showed me! I tried it again and again and again and again and then one day, poof!” She threw her arms out to both sides. “It worked!”

Imren laughed - a bit less loudly than before - and then hiked her further onto a hip and glanced over his shoulder towards his brother.

"Well, Cai!” he said, with a grin. “Seems you were wrong about little Valtish here, huh?”

Her father’s eyes remained fixed on the lantern. “Seems so.”

“And no self respecting niece of mine would be fine with just that, would she?” Imren turned back to Val with a winning smile that chased any worry about her father’s odd silence clear out of her mind again. “What do you say, kid? How about I teach you how to be sneaky this time around?”

She nodded again, so hard that her curls swatted at her cheeks. Over her uncle’s shoulder, she saw her father turn.

“Imren,” he said, with the same warning tone that he’d used before. Imren waved him off.

“Easy, Cai. She’s a good student. And there are worse things to learn than to not be seen, don’t you think?”

This time, when they trotted off, her father let them go without a fight.

————–

The candles were already burning low when Val arrived back at the grave.

The funerary party had been small, but had insisted that she leave her vigil long enough for dinner. She had only gotten through half of a plate before she couldn’t stomach the ashen taste of food anymore. They had let her go then, after they were sure that she had heard all of their offers of a bed for the night.

For the night, she knew, but likely not for much longer.

That would have been fine, once. An inn bed tended to be a luxury, one that she was used to forgoing for a tent, or the blanket-covered floor of a wagon anyway. In any other time, at any other place, she would be fine with that. In any other time, she would not need it.

In any other time, perhaps her parents would not be dead.

The bitterness of the thought winched her throat shut, but all that did was bring a too-familiar stinging to the corners of her eyes. They’d run out of tears long before her father’s grave had been dug; the reminder that she was still alone certainly wouldn’t be enough to bring those back. So she turned them up to the hill on the horizon instead, squinting into the growing dark, where a splinter of the trade road wound down the length of it. Still no silhouette on the horizon, no towering horns, no dull red skin catching the last lingering rays of sunlight.

Still no Imren.

Sighing and scrubbing at her stinging eyes, Val stepped over to the little round of the headstone and sat down beside it. She didn’t dare cross over the freshly turned earth beside her, or look at it for long enough for her mind to process. Her eyes would only sting more.

Watching the candles was easier. They had been placed in a little arc around the sides of the headstone, a few on top, dripping wax down the swath of slate grey. She whisked some of the longer drops away with her bare fingers, focusing on the scalding heat and the dancing whip of the flame that always seemed to make her blood pound a little harder in her ears. She didn’t play often with fire, but there was something familiar about it, something old and nostalgic that made little threads of excitement burn up to her chest…

An idea, the wild sort that only grief could conjur, suddenly sprang to life in her mind.

Straightening, she spun herself to face the candles - away from the grave, away from the memory, away from the empty, empty hill - and lowered her face to their level. She watched the flame for a long moment, focusing. Then, with a frantic rush of hope that could only come in a bard’s child, she waved her hand across the top of them and muttered an old, familiar word.

The flames brightened dutifully, to a brilliant red like skin on an open field in the middle of summer, but the world around her remained empty. No one stepped out from behind a tree, arriving in the dramatic eleventh hour like they would in her father’s stories; no one appeared to crest the hilltop. The wind was just cold, the earth still freshly turned, and she was still utterly alone.

The tears came then, fierce and hot with the fresh dashing of her hope, and they did not leave again for a long, long time.

#frenchy replies #my writing #oc crap #d&d #valtish #fortune's favor #pile of idiots #KINDA #it's all pre-game obviously #but i finally found the drive to finish this after this last session #i already wrote something about val's parents and gavaar and her captain #i had to write something about the one other vip in her life before her friends took over #I'M SORRY IT'S A BIT OF A BUMMER AT THE END #THE NEXT ONE IS MUCH MORE FUN I PROMISE

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asian-hero · 5 years

Note

7 & 23 from the prompt list with Shiro and and a fem! S/o? Please and thank you! 🌼💛

hi I hope you like it because I went back and forth on whether or not I liked it

#7: “Is that blood?” “No?” “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”

#23: “It’s a good thing you’re cute when you’re angry.”

Today was the day you were probably going to die. So far, nothing had killed you. You’d been through hell and back, fighting against the Galra alongside the paladins, you fought face to face against Sendak, and you even nearly got burnt trying to power up the wormhole with the rest of the paladins. But despite all your successes and luck with staying alive, you knew that today would be your last day on Earth.

It was a normal day, you were patrolling with Pidge and Hunk to make sure that the recently liberated planets were doing well, and you three happened to come across a smaller Galra ship. While calling for backup, Shiro had advised that you stay behind and let Pidge and Hunk take the brunt of the attacks, as you were in a tiny Garrison fighter ship. Rather than take your doting boyfriend’s advice, you decided that you didn’t much enjoy life anyway and went straight into the heat of the battle, narrowly dodging lasers and repeatedly scrapping one of your wings on the side of the Galra ship. The fight ended rather quickly, but you did end up with several deep cuts that would surely scar and a bump on your head that would probably turn into a sort of concussion. Not to mention that you were littered in bruises from ramming into the Galra ship with your tiny fighter ship more than a dozen times. As soon as the three of you were flying back to the Garrison, Pidge and Hunk were panicking, expressing their fear of Shiro and how he’d be furious.

“Have you ever actually seen Shiro angry before?” You countered, trying to quell your own nerves.

“No,” Hunk responded, his nerves shining through his voice, “But do I want to find out? Also no.”

The rest of your flight back was relatively quiet, with the occasional groan from yourself, as your head was starting to feel as if twenty construction workers were drilling into your skull. Once you were finally back at the Garrison, Pidge and Hunk were the first ones to exit, blanching at the sight of Shiro standing at the landing area, waiting patiently for you to come out. When he saw the looks on both Pidge and Hunk’s faces he started to become worried, rushing over to your ship and opening the door. When the light came streaming in you winced, trying to look away. Shiro’s concerned features morphed into a look of anger and fear. Doing a quick check-up on you, he finally spoke:

“Is that blood?”

You glanced at him, a guilty look spreading across your face. Turning to face him, you winced, putting pressure on one of your bigger cuts. “No?”

His jaw clenched tightly, in an attempt to keep calm. “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”

Unstrapping you from your seat, he hoisted you into his arms, carrying you out of the ship and into the med-bay. Setting you down onto an exam table, furiously ripping through drawers to find things to bandage you with. After finding some bandages and rubbing alcohol, he sat down on a stool in front of you, beginning to disinfect your wounds, the alcohol stinging your flesh and causing your to flinch away.

Shiro’s grip on your arm tightened as he hissed out, “Can you stay still?”

You let out a puff of air, turning away from him. “I’m sorry, but it hurts!”

He gave you an unamused look. “This wouldn’t need to happen if you’d just stayed behind like I told you to,”

Another harsh swipe of rubbing alcohol caused you to whimper, moving your arm from his grip again. “Well, could you at least be a bit gentler?”

Looking up at your pained expression he let out a long sigh, before muttering a “sorry” and continuing with your arm. For a while the two of you said nothing to each other, only focusing both of your combined attention on your wounds. When he finished up with your cuts, he took one more look at your figure before getting up, moving to leave the room.

“You should stay here for a while, maybe take a nap while you recover.”

Before he could leave you called his name, effectively stopping him. “Are you still mad?”

If humans could physically produce steam then you would’ve seen it coming out of Shiro’s ears. He slowly turned around to face you, his lips pulled into a frown.

“What do you think?” He gestured to his face, which was steadily growing redder, “Does this look like a happy face to you?”

You smiled sheepishly at him, shrinking back into yourself. When he didn’t seem like he was going to move anywhere, you hopped down from the table, slowly walking over to him. Once you were close enough you gingerly put a hand on his bicep, to which he shrugged it off, turning away from you. Letting out a huff, you crossed your arms.

“You know,” You began, your lips tilted into a lopsided smile, “It’s a good thing you’re cute when you’re angry.”

Looking at Shiro’s face, you could’ve sworn that you saw a small smile trying to make its way to his face. It was immediately crushed, however, by the frown that settled into his features. “Don’t think that you can flirt your way out of this, (y/n).”

“Are you sure?” You asked, moving around to face him, “Because I know a certain sweetheart who can’t resist my flirting.”

“(y/n),” He warned, his smile betraying the tone of his voice.

“Have you worked out recently? Because you look stunning.”

“This isn’t—“

“Oh my god, look at that ass!” You whistled afterwards, a grin stretching across your face.

That was the line that got him, as you could hear a quiet snort come from him, followed by a small smile gracing his features. You laughed, your hands moving to grab his face.

“See, I knew you couldn’t resist my advances!” You exclaimed, feeling proud.

Instead of moving away from your touch, Shiro leaned into your hands, the tension slipping away from his figure. After a few seconds Shiro sighed, gently taking your hands from his face and into his own.

“You can’t do that to me again,” He said, worry clear in his voice.

You lifted his hands to your face, kissing them lightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,”

Shiro looked at you, resting his forehead onto yours, a serene look on his face. “Next time, can you just listen to me and stay behind?”

You laughed, suddenly feeling lighter than you had been thirty minutes ago.

“I’ll try.”

#takashi shirogane #vld shiro #shiro x reader #takashi shirogane x reader #voltron #vld #voltron: legendary defender #voltron imagines #voltron x reader #voltron shiro #shiro

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