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throneofsapphics · 8 months

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Can we please have a part two to some questions are better left alone? I’m obsessed!!!

some questions are better left alone, part 2

Rowaelin x f!Reader

(part one) (part three)

Summary: They want you here, I repeated to myself. If I said it enough, I might start believing it. Or the words would lose their meaning.

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: drinking, angst, y/n is a bit impulsive

A/N: I’m glad you liked it, here it is! This is a bit shorter than the first one! I’m thinking about doing a part three

I thought about it for days. Whether I should stay - or go back home for some time to sort my thoughts out. I promised we would speak about it, but I never gave an exact time or date.

Here, their presence was intoxicating and everywhere. I was drawn to them, and everything in me wanted to please them, to do what I had to to stay close to my mates. Maybe that was part of the problem, I couldn’t have a clear head here. And speaking to my family and friends back home about it …

The journey wasn’t incredibly long - maybe one week, but with how busy everything had been I’ve only seen them a few times in the last couple of years. Every time the conversation about visiting home popped up, there seemed to be another event going on. I have been brushing it off as a coincidence.

She looked right at us, her body stiff and her throat swallowing. “I need to visit home for a bit.”

It felt like all of the air left her lungs. She said they would talk about it, would have a conversation, why would she need to leave?

“Why?” Rowan asked bluntly.

“I can’t …” She covered her face with her hands, dragging them down before exhaling slowly. “I can’t think here. I need space.”

“We can give you space here,” Aelin said hesitantly. “You have your own space.”

“That’s not the same.” She could see the pain in her eyes - the indecision, the doubt.

Do you think she’ll come back? If we let her go. Rowan asked her, glancing her way.

“As long as you swear you’ll come back.” Aelin’s eyes bore into me, like a brand. It sounded vaguely like a threat. Promises are some of the only things immortals deal in anymore - promises and bargains.

There was a momentary, too-obvious, pause. “I swear it.” I promised. Not a date, or a time.

She’s keeping everything vague. Rowan’s voice sounded in her mind, before he asked her, “When will you come back?”

A fair, reasonable question but the hesitation in y/n’s eyes worried Aelin.

“I don’t know yet,” her fingers tapped against the wooden table. “I won’t be long, but I haven’t seen my family in a while.” A tang of guilt ripped through Aelin. Y/n had barely been away from them since she first moved here. Her family didn’t live that far away, y/n could reach them rather quickly. She got the keen sense that if they offered to go with her, it would be shot down - shot down quick enough it might sting, so she didn’t bother asking.

“A month.” Y/n finally said, before her or Rowan could speak. “I’ll be back in a month.”

About one week of travel each way, two weeks with her family. It was all reasonable. So reasonable Aelin couldn’t find a way to shoot it down, not without seeming unhinged herself.

“You know why mates are put together, right?” My cousin glanced at me. I’d told her about my doubts and fears - about everything. She’s the only one I trusted to keep her mouth shut. As far as the rest of my family was concerned, it was a surprise visit home. I played it off well, but my cousin knew me better than the rest. As two only children, we were raised like siblings.

“Because they’re equals.” I answered automatically, “or to make the most powerful babies.”

She snorted. “I hope you don’t get pregnant anytime soon.”

“I’m not planning on it,” I laughed. The thought of a pregnancy made me shiver. Something I was certainly not ready for.

“But,” My cousin turned to look at me, grabbing my hand gently, “we were also taught that doesn’t mean mates are always a perfect fit.”

I dropped her hand. I can’t imagine life without them. Not now, not now that I’d been with them so long. But … they had lived a life without me, and could probably picture it perfectly well. “Do you think they would be better off on their own?”

“I don’t know them,” she raised a brow, “and that’s not a question you should be asking me.”

The rest of the visit went well, and I did feel a freshness - but also an emptiness at the same time, like a key part of me was missing. I found myself both dreading and anticipating leaving. Dreading the conversation we’d be having on my return, but eager to be back with them, to have that part of my soul fulfilled.

Aelin and Rowan were on edge the entire time she was gone.

Rowan managed to sit in one place, even feign concentrating on a report, but Aelin wore a path back and forth across the room.

“She’ll be back tomorrow.” He finally said, putting down the papers he’d been staring at, not really reading or comprehending any of the contents.

“What if she doesn’t come back?”

“Has she ever broken a promise?”

“No.” His fireheart sighed, walking towards him instead, before perching on his lap, her head against his shoulder.

“She should already be on her way,” he murmured, running his hand up and down her spine. “And before you ask, I won’t go check.”

Aelin let out something between a grumble and a growl - enough to tell him he was right. They needed to show her they trusted her, trusted that she would keep her word.

I was surprised I didn’t see any white-tailed hawks following me back to the castle, or scouting out my path. I was keeping my eye out for any birds that might be in the area. None followed me home, or checked I was on my way back. The show of trust surprised me. At least they know I’ll keep my promises.

We were all toying around the conversation, the one we all knew needed to happen. It was unlike us, really, to be so hesitant about things like this. It was me, of all people, who brought it.

“One of the thoughts I had.” I swallowed, “I’ve been taught mates aren’t always a perfect fit. That they’re paired together for either whoever can make the most powerful children, or who are equals, and I know something doesn’t have to be perfect to make it work, but sometimes I wonder why you’d want me when you’re already a perfect fit and if you were happier without me.” I thought of Fenrys’s warning - of pretending those words never came out of my mouth. Gods, what if I’d made a big mistake … what if this would make them think, make them realize they really would be better off without me, if they were happier.

I found the courage to look at both of them. They looked crestfallen. Aelin reached out and covered my hand with hers. “We want you. We’re happy with you. Now that you’re here, we never want to let you go.” An unusual softness was present in Rowan’s eyes as well and he reached out, covering my other hand. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to.

They talked, and talked, and talked. Thank the gods they didn’t have any meetings or plans today, otherwise they would have been very very late, and not in the best mood to deal with anyone else.

“Do you,” Aelin swallowed harshly. “Do you want to go home, permanently?”

“I don’t want to leave you.” Not a direct answer, but good enough that her shoulders visibly relaxed.

Rowan and Aelin were more before we realized we were mates. Enemies. Friends. Carranam. My Blood-Sworn. Lovers. Husband and wife. Mates. A progression, a timeline. Comparatively, y/n jumped right in at that last step, without the other experiences to form a solid rock or foundation. But, they could build those experiences over time.

Rowan thought he’d be prepared for things like this, having been mated for a decade already, but it was so damn different. Aelin and y/n aren’t the same, and he can't treat them exactly the same. Where Aelin will tell him off, y/n doesn’t - she holds all of that in. He needs to work on being … nicer, and she needs to work on saying what she’s feeling, or thinking.

“We won’t be mad at you for the things you’re thinking, or feeling. We can’t fix a problem if we don’t know it exists.”

“Right.” She hesitated for a few moments, but kept speaking, “part of this is my fault, for putting words in your mouth.”

“We haven’t been very considerate of you, and your feelings.”

Awkward, but good.

I dragged Fenrys back to my rooms again, the day after we talked.

“I assume I’m summoned here because of a certain talk you had.” His eyes glinted with amusement. I groaned, but motioned to the chair in front of me. He sat, looking half amused and half worried. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“It was fine,” I hesitated.

His face grew taut. “Fine?”

“They asked if I wanted to go home permanently.”

“And what did you say?”

“That I don’t want to leave.”

A heavy silence filled the room. I gave them a half-answer. I don’t want to leave here.

“You’re thinking about it.” Fenrys didn’t pose it as a question.

“I’m always thinking about …” I didn’t want to finish the sentence, didn’t want to put the words out into the open - into the air.

“Don’t tell me.” He said quickly, before I could gather my thoughts enough to continue speaking. He might get the urge to tell Aelin, if I said anything that could cause her any kind of hurt - emotional included. He stood, rolling his shoulders back. “You need a night out,” his eyes danced in amusement. “Invite your friends. Especially the pretty one.”

“That sounds perfect,” I managed to say in between laughs.

“Write a better note this time,” he winked. “I’ll meet you at the gates in half an hour.”

I scrambled for a pen and paper.

Going out with Fenrys, I’ll try not to walk into any pillars this time. Don’t be too nosy.

They’d likely find that funny. Gods I hope they will.

Rowan picked up the note, ‘I'll try not to walk into any pillars,’ he sighed. Fenrys definitely pulled her into this, well aware he and Aelin would be in an important trade meeting the next morning. He handed it to Aelin, who snorted in amusement.

“They’ll have a good time.” She turned to him with narrowed eyes. “And you won’t make a big fuss this time.”

“I didn’t make a fuss.” He countered, arms crossed. His mate only raised an elegant eyebrow. Really? I think you started a fight. Rowan ignored the barb, stalking from the room to find something to do. There were always reports to read. Aelin snickered, right on his heels.

The night out was exactly what I needed. Laughter, friends, alcohol. Fenrys and I made our way back, drunk off our asses. Failing to hide our laughter as we made our way down the halls. I didn’t walk into any pillars this time, didn’t beat anyone in a drinking contest, and avoided Effie’s homemade liquor.

Fenrys was too drunk - or too lazy to make his way back to his rooms, and shifted right in the sitting room, curling up on a rug. I sniffed the air. Drunk dog. That’s a new scent.

I bit back another laugh, changing before stumbling into my bed.

Rowan woke a bit earlier than necessary, intending to check on y/n before the meeting. Aelin grumbled at him, but didn’t follow him out of bed this time.

It took a lot of self control not to laugh at the wolf curled up in her sitting room, sleeping like the dead. Alcohol and dog - he rolled his eyes, headed for the door.

He opened it quietly, just enough to peer into the room. Y/n was sound asleep, one arm hanging over the end of the bed, mouth open and drooling slightly onto her pillow. At least she doesn’t reek of alcohol this time. The dawn rays were beginning to stream in through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on her face. Without thinking too much of it, he fetched a tonic for headache, and a glass of water, setting it on the side table. He let himself brush a few strands of hair away from her face. She didn’t move, didn’t stir, the entire time.

Rowan frowned. Anyone could sneak into her room and … he cut off that line of thinking, but made sure to double check the locks on the windows before leaving.

Aelin rubbed her eyes, yawning as Rowan trailed back into the room.

“All okay?” She drawled. It was cute that he woke up early to check on her. Fussy buzzard.

“Yes,” he grunted. “There’s a drunk wolf sleeping on the floor of her sitting room.”

She snorted at the idea. A wolf-sized pony in her sitting room. Fenrys was either too intoxicated or too lazy to make his way back to his own rooms. Maybe next time she’d get y/n to glamor her, just so she could go out with them.

“Two of them is enough.” Rowan must’ve seen the look on her face. “I don’t need to worry about three of you stumbling through the streets. You’d empty all of the alcohol out of that tavern.”

Aelin gave an innocent shrug, ignoring his sigh before rising to get ready for the day. She wasn’t excited for this meeting.

I woke up to the faint scent of pine and snow, and some blessings on my bedside table. Rowan can be sweet from time to time, in his own way. I downed the tonic in one gulp. The night out may have been a temporary relief, but the seed of doubt started to drift back into me.

They want you here, I repeated to myself. If I said it enough, I might start believing it. Or the words would lose their meaning.

Pushing the door open, a great white lump of fur dozed on the floor, a few feet in front of me.

I poked him in the ribs, before jumping back out of the way. His lips curled in a snarl, the canine body poised to strike, before he realized who I am, and huffed. Fenrys shifted back into Fae form.

“Good morning,” I chirped, unnecessarily loud. He winced, sending me a vulgar gesture. I rummaged my cabinets, tossing a tonic over my shoulder.

I heard a curse, then a swallow. “Thank you,” he muttered. I turned and grinned at him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing courtly things?”

“Nope,” he snorted. “Their Majesties get to handle this one.”

I hummed. He hung around for tea, before leaving to do … whatever else Fenrys does.

“Are you still having doubts?” Aelin brought up randomly, over dinner a few weeks later. It was just the two of us, Rowan out late training some new guards. Poor souls.

I blinked in surprise. “Are you?”

“No.” She said a bit too quickly. My heart dropped into my stomach.

“I’m not.” I said slowly, the words feeling like a half-lie on my tongue. Nothing had been unusual the last few weeks. If anything, things had been better. I forced a smile onto my face, and changed the topic - asking about their upcoming meeting with some delegates from Melisande. I listened to her complaints about the various ‘assholes,’ she’d have to deal with, but my mind swirled on how quickly she answered.

I had Effie post a discreet letter for me the next day.

Aelin wondered if she sent the wrong message with her answer. She didn't have doubts, not about their relationship. No, doubts if y/n was feeling more secure here. The female did seem a bit distant the rest of the night. She decided not to think about it too much, to push it to the back of her mind and bring it up with Rowan later.

The next week, an urgent letter came for me. I opened it with Rowan and Aelin, taking careful notice of the seal - my family’s seal. My eyes widened as I read it. A summons. The letter I posted arrived quickly.

I handed it to Rowan and Aelin silently, settling my face into a lost and confused mask. I'm completely aware they're watching my every move, my every reaction.

“Do you want company?” Aelin asked gently.

I swallowed harshly, “I should probably handle this alone.”

#rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin #poly!rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x y/n #rowan whitethorn x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #throne of glass fic #throne of glass x reader #angst not really comfort I'm sorry

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jhuzen · 1 year

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a game of chase [m.reader]

i told myself i’d never get caught dead doing a solo childe fic bc my friends and i hate him. well. i’m not dead yet. ahdijsidmv. jk i’m just taking a break from a fic i’m writing so have this one-shot :D. idk why but when i thought of this, childe fits for some reason. and when i brought this up with my friend, they only said “yeah, the attention whore checks out”.

𖦹 i have no idea what genre this is, childe pining for you like mad, my indulgent hc of ekaterina being so done with her boss, a little bit of some characters x you

For every unfortunate soul out there that Childe would have the pleasure of coming across, he made a personal ranking of just how good that first meet was. Of course, it didn’t happen until halfway through he realized how much fun it was to catch some opponents off guard. And on times that he has to go and personally fight to collect certain debts for the bank, he always liked the absolute fear he instilled in every person.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t an ambush he created to be the one sitting at the top rank. Rather, it was his meeting with the traveler. It’s not everyday you see someone with a little flying child getting chased by the Millelith the moment they’ve stepped foot in Liyue. It was hilarious, really. And their meet was nothing short of pure amusement.

And yet, even rankings change.

Especially with the way you barged into his not-so-quaint little life.

A quiet stroll through the harbor — that’s all Chile ever needed and he knew he’d be set to sit on his chair for hours on end, doing boring old paperwork and reports to submit to The Jester. It was nothing to exciting, hence his innate need to get out and go for some fresh air. Take it as a preparation for this grueling boredom that he’s about to face. Though his subordinate preferred he start work now, he still was the one who has the last say.

And so here he was.

Children that reminded him of his little siblings loitered around, playing with huge smiles on their faces. It warmed his heart as he thought about his cold motherland where his family was. He ought to head back as soon as he finishes his reports for now. Just a few days with his family will do the trick.

Vendors by their stalls beckoned to him. He is the facilitator of the Northland Bank in Liyue’s Branch. It’s not too odd to be pulled aside constantly to be offered certain goods. They were only doing business, and as someone who has a sizable mora to spare, it wasn’t surprising to be solicited by them.

With a quick wave to the vendors, he rounded the corner. It was the relatively quiet part of the harbor — not often populated by any vendors as it wasn’t quite in the middle of the bustling crowd where anyone could see. It was quiet. And for someone like him who craved the noise of every clanging blades in a spar, the pained grunts of opponents, and the sound of a blunt impact from every landed punch, Childe enjoyed this part.

A subtle pout came onto his features as he realized that it wouldn’t be long before he has to go back and face the music of the cumbersome paperworks.

Well, that would have happened until his keen ears heard hurried footsteps hitting the pavement. He looked over his shoulder only to see someone hellbent on running. His mind quickly deduced the way you ran — calculative in steps and yet still on a hurry.

Is this guy running away from someone?

Hiding away from them too, in fact, as you booked it to his direction, and before Childe could even react, you had a hand on his wrist that not even he can tear away from. Your head snapped towards an alleyway and shoved him in it, with you following after as you caged him in this tight squeeze of a gap.

Childe blinked. And while he had many questions, your tensed silence was enough for him to clamp his mouth shut, with only your short ragged breaths filling the quiet space.

It didn’t take long though before a portion of his hypothesis was quickly answered as he heard dozens of heavy footsteps and clamoring armor heading to the direction where you and him were in. While you were a tad bit taller, he managed to see over your shoulder a couple of Millelith soldiers all in hot pursuit of you, no doubt. His dull eyes looked up at you, and even with the heavy shadow, he could faintly make out your relieved face when the soldiers came to pass.

You both waited for yet another excruciating minute until the soldier’s clanking armors finally drowned out in distance. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you finally shimmied your way out of that tight gap, hand already pulling the little harbinger by the wrist once more.

“Sorry about that,” you finally spoke and Childe had to nod. For once, he was less chattier as he slowly rode out the mild thrill in his system. “I had to leave no witnesses.”

He quickly regained his footing in the conversation and chuckled, “Yeah? And I don’t suppose I’m your only witness?” He asked, adjusting his clothing from all the ruckus of being shoved in a dark corner.

“I ran out of luck hiding. So, yeah. You’re the only witness. And besides, if I move anymore while wearing this, I’m bound to attract more than what I intend — which is none,” You shifted around in your clothing, which now Childe took note of. You were dressed in the finest robes, patterned with the most graceful looking snakes and dragons that were no doubt handwoven by skilled artisans in Liyue.

Childe also happened to look up at your visage, cleaned up nice and well, hair done neatly aside from the little stray hairs that went out of place from what he assumed was your little chase with the Millelith. His brain quickly noticed the incongruence. You looked like an important figure and yet… you were being chased around by the people meant to protect figures that are deemed important.

He cocked an eyebrow, sizing you up and down, and you almost laughed at how hard he concentrated. You kept quiet as you waited for his little guess.

“A politician?” He tried and you quickly shot it down. Though, if Childe was being honest, with that Adeptus working in the Qixing as well as that scary fellow hydro vision and bow user lady, there was no room for corruption in the position of power. And besides, there would have been news around, even through rumors, knowing how well informed Liyue citizens could be.

Childe took a step back before he realized just what in Teyvat you were wearing. Those robes were no ordinary ones — they were a traditional Liyue garment used in ceremonies.

Your grin was evident as he locked in his final answer with a flabbergasted look;

“A runaway groom.”

“Bingo.”

“Well, I’ve heard of brides being whisked away before. But I’ve never heard of a runaway groom.” Childe laughed a little, but even in his dull eyes, a flash of pity and curiosity shone through which did not escape you. “What happened to you, man?”

You waved him off with a charming grin, “Nothing you should concern yourself over, my good friend. I just happened to be the unfortunate son who had to be pawned off to a lovely lady to expand our clan’s horizons.”

“That’s insane.”

“It is. Such is the life of a nobleman. Well, no, not always — just some special nutcases who can’t live without power.”

That was how Childe met you. Through a chase. A chase that decided the path of a good portion of your life.

How ironic was it that now he was trying to determine a certain part of his life through a chase.

Perhaps the fact that you were being chased when he met you was an omen of some sort of how his tumultuous love would end up. Childe wasn’t always superstitious, he only believes in the palpable results, the successes in his every mission, and the triumph that gives him high in every victorious ending in fights. But now, the thought of it was slowly questioning his radically logical mind.

Because now, he was chasing after you. Despite the fact that you’ve settled over your marital affairs, you risked your connections being severed from your family when you refused to marry the woman that waited for you by the ceremonial altar. And when you did, you proved everyone wrong by living a far more comfortable life at the edge of the harbor, managing a little teahouse that Childe had funded in capital for you.

In hindsight, the harbinger’s claims of generating more profit should have been an obvious forefront of how his emotions truly manifested. It was a hulking passionate love that towered over everyone but somehow it could never reach the peak where you sat in peace, making tea and indulging the bliss of your freedom.

Though Childe, despite the rationality that he claims he possesses, can be an unreliable narrator. He lies to protect his family, so it’s not a surprise to say that although true, his imaginative descriptions of his love for you is anything but tragic and complicated.

Simply put — he loves you but you were so, so dense.

Always just a foot away no matter how much he ran to catch up to you. No matter how many times he dropped by your shop that he proudly invested in, bringing you lavish gifts to woo you, all you had to do was smile gratefully, make him tea and it felt like all his efforts in winning your affections reversed into your favor — wooing him instead.

“Boss, have you tried… confronting the bull head on?” Ekaterina sipped on her tea as she looked at her boss with mild disdain, which is justifiable, considering that Andrei would always pass him off to her in his heartbroken rants about you.

A resounding groan left Childe’s lips as he slumped over the table with a lack of grace. He looked up at the bank’s receptionist and glared at her, “Mind your words. He is not a bull.” He said in defense of you, completely missing his subordinate’s point. “He’s more like a… a stallion that I would ri—”

“I will turn in my resignation if you continue that sentence, boss.” Ekaterina says with much defiance. The determination to just resign and perhaps get hired by you instead sounds lovely. Granted, she’d still see Childe and his insufferable pining soul, but she would be busy enough tending to other people to notice him… not to be the catch basin of this man-child’s flooding love troubles.

His blue eyes flitted from corner to corner, eyes narrowing at any unsuspecting man or woman that dared to make a move on you. He was always on the guard, but if anything, if he took Ekaterina’s little piece of advice, he would’ve had no worries. You would reject people with that kind smile of yours and politely tell them off with a claim that you finally have someone else.

Ugh. And you would look so cute with his family too! Teucer made another unprecedented excursion two months ago and was relatively surprised that his big brother made an investment on a teahouse. The way you tended to his little brother like a good big brother or even a father made him feel weak in the knees. Though it wasn’t as fun when Teucer had to be convinced to head back to their motherland, it endeared Childe to see a side of you that rarely comes out unless in the company of the little ones.

The way you acted now was a stark contrast compared to when you and him met. You were mischievous and playful on the first few months in his company, but it was the surface that he was slowly chipping away at — only appreciating your much deeper layers when he saw you fight for your freedom against an undesired matrimony that was being pushed on you. You worked with persistence and diligence in your name and Childe could not get more hot and bothered.

You were so inexplicably interesting. It was no wonder he was just one of the many people who were hoping to have a shot with you — that quiet teahouse owner in the outskirts of the harbor. Hell, even he had to meet that fellow hydro vision and bow user lady twice as she convinced you to come down and work in her establishment.

Childe’s eyes narrowed at the thought of her luring you into her web. Though he knows she means it as a literal job offer at the teahouse and nothing more, he couldn’t shake off the way your eyes seemed to soften around her, growing relatively fond of her appearance.

The harbinger decides that the day Yelan starts to bring in gifts, is the day he urges a business relocation. Maybe somewhere in Wuwang Hill. Anywhere but here.

It also didn’t help that one of your regulars was the charming former archon. He either came alone or brought his tiny superior with him. And on the off chance that Childe comes to pass by, he could see the way you seemed so engaged with the old man, leaning closer as he told his life stories from a thousand years ago, meriting him a melodious laugh that Childe couldn’t hear from the outside.

And while he adored the traveler, he also didn’t like that they’ve been trying to nestle themselves into your cozy abode like a love tick. And it drove him over the edge when you, ever the generous man that you are, would treat them to a cup of tea, free of charge. Like, that was a lost revenue, you annoyingly attractive and scrumptious airhead! That could have been profit!

You are denser than the muscles Childe would subtly feel out in his tight hugs with you. It was annoying. You’re annoying. It’s annoying. He hates it.

He hates you.

“Oh dear, you don’t look too good, Ajax.”

His eyes snapped open as he felt your hands raking through his ginger hair. He almost sobbed at your gentle touch, just going through with ease. He looked ahead to see Ekaterina missing, and from his peripherals, he could see her pouring herself another fresh pot of tea. Ah. Now that he noticed, the teahouse is now quiet, completely void of customers. He supposed it’s already your closing time.

“Had a tough day at work.” He mumbled.

“No, he didn’t.” Ekaterina’s voice echoed from and Childe only huffed.

Laughter rumbled from somewhere deep in your chest and Childe had to restrain himself from just ambushing you with something that he deems as the deciding moment of your relationship. He’s normally impatient, often just wanting to go at it bare hands. Heck, if stated otherwise in a mission, he would directly make contact and fight off the opponent.

But this isn’t a fight. It’s love. It’s raw attraction towards you and for once, Childe who had the boyish charm that could make everyone drop to their knees was at loss.

“Go back to the bank, Ekaterina,” Childe grumbled as he finally sat up from his seat, looking at his subordinate with a pout. “Andrei would scold you.”

“Andrei pays me double to stay with you.”

“I wish Andrei would also pay me double for putting up with him,” you sighed and he almost choked on his own spit, hitting your torso with a glare. You may be dense to his advances, but you still displayed a teasing disposition that no one is safe from. Not even poor him.

He huffed, crossing his arms, “I can just as easily pull out as this teahouse’s investor, y’know? Watch your words, [Name].” His threat was light and empty, and you knew as well — much to his chagrin. “I mean it,” he added for extra measure.

You only gave him a light hum and nodded along, “Of course you do,” your words were in agreement, and yet it only served to invalidate his empty threat towards you. “So, would you like a refill?” You asked, cocking your head in Ekaterina’s direction, who still had a hand on the pot. You were sure she’s gone through about half of it already since the moment she got a hand on it.

Childe’s breath suddenly got caught in his throat as he watched the setting sun’s rays illuminate through your form from the window. You looked absolutely breathtaking and suddenly, the moment felt right. You were only a few inches away, but as his foot moved to take a step, he felt restricted, bound by the chains of uncertainty as he watched you take a step away, your distance growing by a foot. Again, you were a foot away. After he hesitated when he was so close to just… claim you right there.

He coughed before nodding, “Yeah. Sure,” his voice, painfully stiff and strained.

The harbinger was quick to blame it on the fact that Ekaterina didn’t leave you two alone for some space.

But he knows that she was hardly the reason, not when his heart thudded with regret as he watched you walk over to his subordinate and wrestle the pot away from her. Not when his heart continued to hammer against his chest as his emotions went into another overdrive of absolute adoration.

Not when he can finally feel the chains loosen against his heart when he finally, absolutely without a doubt realized you truly were the one.

#i regret making this #i broke my childe hate oath #jk JAJDKSMDC #childe will forever pine that’s the only saving grace in this fic #there was a first version of this where reader is a manwhore #but eh i want something cute #because childe aint cute #genshin impact x male reader #childe x male reader #tartaglia x male reader #jhuzen’s stupid one shots

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i23kazu · 2 years

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I DO THE COOKING (i do the cleaning.)

warnings – none. characters – zhongli, xiao, ayato, kazuha, thoma, childe, kaeya, diluc x gn!reader. genre – romantic fluff. a/n – malewives. enjoy | please reblog!! it rly helps a starter blog like me ><

[zhongli. | 钟离]

zhongli enjoys making you tea late at night. he starts his preparation as you take your time to wind down, taking his pick from a wide selection — perhaps a light, sweet jasmine should suffice for tonight, he thinks. zhongli also enjoys taking his time to clean. whilst his workplace desk may not be an accurate portrayal of his cleaning, your man is usually the one doing the cleaning in the household. cleaning is a purifiying ritual to him — for he knows that he is in control; and out with the old, in with the new. with every sweep comes a new space ready.

[xiao. | 魈]

xiao likes to cook for you. between his duties of being a yaksha and protecting his home nation of liyue, xiao enjoys flipping through the messily-scrawled notes that smiley yanxiao had shoved into his hands before he left the inn. the yaksha takes pride in his almond tofu, setting the dish down and watching your face light up. as the years go by and the two of you adjust to living together, communal dinners become a norm, with the two of you cooking side by side. xiao doesn’t clean often, but he takes care to do the laundry because he knows that you absolutely despise doing it.

[k. ayato. | 神里綾人]

the head of the kamisato clan is not one to claim the kitchen — as much as he’d like to be someone efficient with pots and pans, this man could.. burn water… but nevermind. dinnertimes usually consist of you cooking and him cleaning. (you’re thankful, though. cooking takes a lot out of you and honestly, you can’t imagine cooking for two AND cleaning up.) i’d like to think that ayato is more than happy to assist you with the cleaning as well. the man can literally mop, sweep, dance to dancing queen, and twirl you in his arms at the same time. ayato can be preeetty helpful around the house.

[k. kazuha | 楓原万葉]

kazuha is actually not too bad at cooking. he’s travelled to liyue a lot with beidou, and so, xiangling and him met and they hit it off right away. he was more than happy to share inazuman cuisine with her and in turn, she taught him different liyuean dishes that quickly turned into the alcor’s favourites. he loves making you dinner, and the dishes on the table are typically a mix of inazuman comfort foods and more extravagant liyuean cuisine. on a good day (pepper him with enough kisses), he may just do the dishes for you too. ;)

[thoma.]

mr fixer is definitely multi-talented — and both cooking and cleaning is right up his alley. thoma is able to cook a wide range of dishes because of his closeness to the kamisato clan head; meetings with foreign diplomats allow him to practice cooking dishes from wherever they’re from. his favourite dish to cook for you is a classic sweet madame, a favourite comfort food from his hometown of mondstadt. nothing much to say about his cleaning skills, for his title of housekeeper speaks for itself. he loves dancing with you in the living room as the two of you clean.

[childe.]

since childe has many siblings, he grew up taking care of the household as well. he learnt to cook simple dishes for his siblings, and when they demanded more variety (childe loved them to the point of spoiling…), the ginger started to incorporate more foreign flavours, and he definitely brought it over to your relationship. he absolutely enjoys cooking you dishes from snezhnaya, especially hearty soups and salads. just like ayato, childe is a really good multitasker. years of carrying his siblings on his hip while cooking and cleaning have made it easy for him to talk/give you kisses/hug/dance while cooking and cleaning. more kisses for you :-) <3

[kaeya.]

kaeya hates cooking. he can barely scrape together a kebab, much less a roasted chicken... but if you're free, work alongside him and you just might save your dinner. kaeya enjoys sneaky kisses though, often tapping his cheek for another kiss right after the other. his favourite dishes to make are his usual kebabs (takes less than half an hour) or a satisfying salad (takes ten minutes to put together, or zero if you buy it from good hunter and put it on a plate). kaeya does the cleaning around the house well though, if he has enough time. put him in a maid dress watch him sweep and dust and twirl you around the living room, and suddenly, cleaning isn't so boring anymore.

[diluc.]

diluc actually really enjoys cooking. being the owner of dawn winery means that there are many meetings with foreign investors, most of whom would bring over foods from their homelands in order to win over his favour. some dishes stuck with him more than others, and soon, he was searching for recipes in lisa’s library. he sees food as ways connecting to people — knowing that it brings smiles and content conversations, he always enjoys cooking for you. diluc may not like cleaning, but he sees it as a necessity. he understands that a clean space means a clear mind, and clutter is a distraction to his efficiency. it doesn’t help that he’s always having people over too. but in the end, he really only does it for you. he knows you love clean spaces.

leave a like, comment, reblog, and please consider following me! it really helps me grow since i'm a small blog :^)

(i do not allow anyone to repost my works! :-D)

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @infinn-toru @ladyadii @soulsanta

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obxsummer · 9 months

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Gut Feeling // The Pogues

as john b's younger sibling, it was your job to make sure he didn't do anything too stupid. when he leaves with ward to go on a fishing trip, you find out just how cruel the cameron family can be... little did you know john b was finding out the exact same thing.

john b x gn!sibling!reader, platonic!pogues

warnings: the usual shitty cameron parenting, verbal threatening, no use of y/n, tried to keep things gender-neutral but let me know if I missed something!

a/n: sorry if things are out of character, I couldn't really find a way to make this flow the way I wanted. thanks for your patience with this request anon!

navigation

John B getting pushed off the Hawk’s Nest was definitely not on your bingo board for this year. Ward Cameron offering to be your legal guardian on top of that wasn’t even a thought in your mind. So what the hell was going on?

Your bond with your older brother, John B, was unshakable. Only a year separated you in age, yet your connection ran much deeper than that. You were best friends as kids, guardians of each other's secrets, and steadfast anchors in each other's lives. Everything only became more intense when your father disappeared.

Sharing friends was expected, as well as the fact that where there was one of you, the other wasn’t far behind. Everyone in OBX knew the Routledge siblings traveled as a pack alongside their friends.

Topper shoving John B off the ridiculously tall spot created more than just sprained joints and concussions. Sarah told her dad, and to your dismay, Ward Cameron, was suddenly in front of you, offering to be your legal guardian.

The offer hung heavy in the air as the older man dismissed himself for the two of you to take some time. The expression on your face must have said everything since John B instantly tried to assure you. "Listen, I know you're skeptical, but we're running out of options here. Ward can help us."

You stared out the window, a mix of worry and doubt tugging at your heart. "I don't trust him, John B. There's something off about him." The idea of being in Figure Eight, away from your friends, was terrifying.

John B let out a heavy sigh, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I get that feeling too, but we need his help. We need to keep DCS off our backs. Nobody said we had to stay there all the time. It’s just a cover."

Despite your hesitation, you nodded, knowing that he had the right idea. The bond between you and John B was your anchor, and you were willing to trust him, even if the circumstances were far from comforting. “I’ll go where you go, JB. But I really have a bad feeling about this.”

Moving into the Cameron house was extremely awkward. The walls felt unfamiliar, and Ward's presence seemed to loom over you. The first change came when you and John B were assigned separate bedrooms, a decision that made your unease grow.

Standing hesitantly in the doorway of your new room, you looked at John B with a mixture of concern. "Why can't we share a room?"

Ward exchanged a glance with John B, and the unspoken conversation between them only fueled your anxiety. Was this John B’s decision? "It's important for both of you to have your own space," Ward said, his voice carrying a hint of finality. “Gives you time to grow in your own way. You don’t share a room at home now, do you?”

“I’d feel a lot better by him,” You replied without any regard for your ungrateful attitude. It seemed like Ward was doing a great job at driving a wedge between you and your brother. And even though you did have your own rooms at the Chateau, being separated here felt much worse. Usually, there was just a wall between you, not three hallways, a set of stairs, and locked doors.

“We can share a room, Mr. Cameron, it’s really no-”

“You will have separate rooms. That is final. I already have a lot on my plate getting you two adjusted, please don’t make it harder.”

As night fell, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings only intensified your discomfort. Unable to bear the thought of being separated from John B, you found yourself sneaking into his room. The floor became your refuge, a makeshift bed where you sought solace in his proximity.

Your unease didn’t disappear overnight. The gold was still waiting to be pulled out of the well and when Ward interfered with the plans for that too, your anxiety resurfaced. You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss.

You had been standing awkwardly on the sidewalk when Ward approached John B and Sarah to bring up the idea. He finally acknowledged your presence. "This trip is just for John B and me. Some bonding time while we talk things out, man to man about dating my daughter…"

John B leaned over, ruffling your hair affectionately even though he wasn't a major fan of this himself. "It's just fishing, Birdie. I'll be back before you know it." He could tell you didn’t like being here by yourself and he didn’t blame you. “Plus, Sarah will be here. You guys could hang out?”

Despite his attempt to reassure you, the feeling of unease clung to you like a second skin. "Promise you'll call if anything goes wrong?"

John B's eyes softened as he nodded. "I promise. Can always hang with JJ and them too, you know. Figure out some plans.”

He hinted toward what you were supposed to be doing the following morning: pulling the gold out.

With a heavy heart, you watched them head out to the dock the next morning. It felt so silly to be worried about being alone without John B. You retreated to your room, the morning sun casting golden rays across the floor, hoping for the best.

Minutes dragged on like an eternity as you cowered in the suffocating darkness of the room. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of leaves outside, sent shivers down your spine. The air was heavy with fear, your heart beating in a frantic rhythm as the minutes ticked by.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and your heart jumped into your throat. Ward's sinister smile greeted you, his presence casting a shadow that seemed to engulf the room.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, confused by his presence. “Where’s John B?”

He completely ignored your question and threw the light on as he stepped closer. "I think we need to have a little chat."

“Don’t touch me!” Your breath caught in your throat, and you stumbled back off the bed, your hands pressing against the closet wall as if it could shield you from the threat before you. His grip on your arm was like a vise, cold and unyielding, as he pulled you into the dimly lit room.

"You see, I have a problem here," Ward hissed, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory intensity, "Your father thought he could outsmart me from the gold. I killed him for it. You and your brother don’t stand a chance, especially if I take you out one by one…but just how do I go about it?"

As he spoke, his words were a twisted dance of intimidation. His threats were like icy daggers, each word digging deeper into your psyche, igniting a firestorm of panic. The room felt like a cage, and you were trapped in its suffocating grasp.

Your heart raced, your breathing shallow as your mind raced to find an escape route. The weight of his words bore down on you. The room seemed to close in on you, the walls narrowing as Ward's presence loomed over you. Your dad. Ward Cameron killed your dad.

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and another figure entered the room—Rose Cameron. Her demeanor was cold and calculating, her eyes scanning you with an unsettling intensity.

Ward's gaze flickered between you and Rose, and a knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You remember Rose, right?"

You felt a knot of unease tighten in your stomach. Rose's presence seemed to amplify the danger, and you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were trapped in a spider's web.

Rose's voice was silky, her smile masking an undercurrent of manipulation. "Ward and I are only concerned for your well-being, sweetie. We want what's best for you. You don’t have to worry about going back to the Cut ever again, okay?"

The words felt like a strong hand tightening around your throat, and you backed away, your heart racing as you tried to maintain some semblance of control. "I don't need your concern, I need my brother."

Ward's laugh was chilling, his amusement a stark contrast to the terror that gripped you. "John B’s gone. Why do you think I took him out on the boat? Easier access to dump the body where someone won’t find it."

A wave of panic crashed over you, and you instinctively turned to flee, only to find Rose blocking your path. The realization struck you like a lightning bolt—this was a trap, and you were caught in their twisted game.

Before you could react, Ward lunged forward, his grip like a vice as he forced you into the closet. The sound of the lock clicking shut sent a shock of terror through your veins, and you pounded on the door, desperation fuelling your efforts.

"Let me out! Let me out of here!" Your voice cracked with fear, each thud against the door a desperate plea for escape. “John B!”

From the other side of the door, you heard Ward's voice, his tone taunting. "You're not going anywhere. This is where you'll learn your place. And stay quiet until we finish digging out the gold. Actually, thank you. Without your help, we wouldn’t have even gotten this far."

The reality of your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Trapped, alone, and at the mercy of their manipulation, you felt a surge of panic rise within you. You were a pawn in their game, a helpless victim in a twisted power play. And they knew about the gold.

As you sat in the darkness, the silence was deafening, broken only by your ragged breaths. The taste of fear lingered on your tongue, and you knew that escaping this nightmare would require every ounce of strength you possessed.

You waited until silence covered the house before slamming your body against the closet door. Pain radiated through your shoulder, but you remembered JJ’s direction on kicking a door out before putting it to practice as best as you could.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins was a lifeline, propelling you forward as you lunged for the door and finally broke the lock free. Panic fed your speed, and your heart pounded in your chest as you burst into the hallway, your breath ragged and harsh.

As you fled down the corridor, the taste of freedom was tantalizingly close. You turned a corner, your pulse racing, and then… silence. Panic surged as you realized you were trapped in a dead-end hallway, the walls closing in on you like a vise.

Footsteps echoed ominously behind you, and you whirled around to see Rafe's approaching shadow—no time to spare. Your heart hammered in your chest, and desperation surged within you. With a gasp, you spotted the open doors to the upstairs balcony. Adrenaline-fueled strength carried you forward, and you sprinted toward them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Rafe’s voice taunted as he started to round the corner. You pushed yourself over the balcony rail and tried your best to hang on as you slowly slide down the column to the ground. Until you lost grip, that is.

The world outside spun in a blur of green and blue, and your body collided with the ground, the impact sending shockwaves of pain through your limbs. Dazed and disoriented, you scrambled to your feet, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Rafe's voice echoed behind you, but you didn’t dare look back.

The sound of your own breath, the rustling leaves, and the pounding of your heart filled your senses as you ran. You thanked JJ for dragging you through these paths as kids so you never got lost by yourself.

And then, suddenly, your foot caught on a root, and you were tumbling, colliding with something solid. Pain radiated through your limbs as you groaned, disoriented and breathless. You looked up, blinking away tears, only to find yourself staring into a pair of familiar eyes.

"Birdie?" John B's voice was a mixture of disbelief and concern as he rushed to your side, his hands reaching out to steady you.

Your heart raced, emotions swirling within you as you tried to process what was happening. Your eyes widened in panic, and your hands shot up defensively, a guttural gasp escaping your lips as you stumbled back.

John B's expression shifted from surprise to a gentle concern, his voice cautious. "Hey, it's me, it’s me. You're safe. I'm here."

The flood of emotions was overwhelming, and your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath. Slowly, you lowered your hands, your vision clearing enough for you to see your brother's worried eyes, the deep lines of concern etched into his forehead.

"John B?" Your voice trembled, a mixture of disbelief and relief coursing through your veins. “You’re alive?”

He nodded, his voice soothing as he extended a hand toward you. "Yeah, it's me. You're okay now."

You felt your legs give way, the tension and fear of the past hours finally catching up with you. John B caught you, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he eased you to sit. He held you close, the warmth of his embrace grounding you in reality.

As the tears spilled over, you clung to him as if he were the lifeline you had desperately needed. He whispered reassurances as he held you close, reminding you that you were with him and everything was fine.

Gasping for breath, you clung to John B as if he were your anchor in the storm. Tears streaked down your face, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the words to explain the terror you had just experienced.

"John B, I… I couldn't stay there. Ward…" You choked on the words, your voice a fragile whisper. “He said you were dead.”

John B's arms tightened around you as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Shhh, take your time. Just tell me what happened."

Taking a deep breath, you began recounting what had just happened—how Ward had cornered you, the sinister threats that were enough for you to kick a door out, and the desperate flight through the woods. As you spoke, you finally let your shoulders sag in relief. Your brother was okay.

John B's grip on you tightened even further, his voice shaky when he realized how fucked up this whole thing was. "He attacked me on the boat. Said he was the reason Dad is gone and… he-he tried to get me to share the gold with him - lashed out when I said no."

As the reality of the situation settled in when you didn’t answer, John B's protective instinct kicked into high gear. He helped you to your feet, his gaze never leaving yours. "Are you hurt? Did he… did he touch you?"

You shook your head. "I'm okay. He didn't… he didn't hurt me."

John B's features softened with relief, but his anger remained simmering beneath the surface. "We're getting out of here. Right now. Let’s go find the others."

Your friends were waiting at the Chateau when you arrived. They attempted to share their progress with the tools to remove the gold but you and your brother moved past them wordlessly

Kiara, Pope, and JJ filed into the house instantly. "Guys? What's going on?" Kiara's voice carried a note of worry. It only got worse when JJ got shoved aside by your brother. “John B!”

John B's gaze darted around the room, his eyes finally settling on yours before he looked away, his jaw clenched tightly. Without a word, he made his way past your friends, his steps determined as he headed for the door, this time with JJ’s gun in his hand.

“Where are you going?” You screamed after him in shock and ran onto the porch. This was not what you figured he would do.

John B ignored your shouts and kicked JJ’s dirt bike to life before speeding off with no explanation.

JJ exchanged a confused glance with the others. "What's up with him?"

You groaned and flopped on the couch, the heaviness of the truth threatening to consume you. "Ward... Ward killed Big John."

The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. Kiara, Pope, and JJ stared at you in shock, their expressions a mix of disbelief and horror.

JJ's voice was barely a whisper. "What?"

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the memories flooded back, the pain of the past resurfacing with a vengeance. "He was investigating something about the Royal Merchant, and Ward killed him when he wouldn't agree to share the gold."

Pope's voice was filled with anger and disbelief. "That son of a..."

Kiara's hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. "Oh, my god."

As the truth settled in, the room seemed to close in around you, suffocating you with its weight. John B's abrupt departure on the dirt bike now carried a new layer of meaning—if he killed Ward, they would turn this all on your brother.

Hours passed, each moment heavy with the weight of the revelation. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a somber glow across the Chateau. No one spoke, the tension growing with every passing minute.

Kiara eventually got up to grab you something to eat in hopes of calming your nerves. You appreciated the gesture but as you huddled together between JJ and Pope, the reality of the situation began to sink in.

What the fuck were you going to do now?

navigation

read my outer banks x the summer i turned pretty crossover

#outer banks x reader #obx #john b routledge #routledge reader #outer banks imagine #pogues x reader #outer banks reader insert #outer banks angst #john b x routledge!reader #john b imagine #john b #outer banks netflix #jj maybank #kiara carerra #pope heyward #routledge!reader #obx x routledge!reader

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faeryarchives · 2 years

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can i request headcanons for pomefiore with a fischl like g/n reader? i honestly feel like them and rook would be bestfriends

hi hi ok it's been a very long while since i got this request and write for a headcanon so fingers crossed that i am not rusty in writing again and i hope you guys enjoy !!

italicized = oz

pomefiore with a fischl like gender neutral reader!

a daring adventurer with seemingly outlandish theories that happen to turn out to be true, they claims to hail from another world and travels with a night raven named oz. through their unique abilities, eccentric character, and hard work, they has become a rising star among the adventurers' guild's investigators, earning the recognition of all

: ̗̀➛ vil schoenheit

"the threads of my fate lie in your hands!"

"no rest for the wicked..."

“stay still potato, are you nervous? you haven’t seen anything yet if you’re still getting nervous at school assemblies.”

"who said my henchmen are nervous? we are not!"

at first vil was somewhat surprised at how you present yourself - so elegant and poised even your distinctive manner of speech makes you stand out in his point of view

as someone who values beauty, vil almost took you as another younger sibling stating that "you potatoes don't know how to value true beauty i am taking this one under my wing."

there would be times when the three of you including oz would act out some of vil's part in the script given by the one in charge of the play or the manager.

“hah. as thy enemy you really had proved your worth! at this point, i’d even let you stand at my side.”

"hmph! doth thou wish to witness my true power?"

"eure majestät that line was supposed to be after your first battle."

"oh your royal majesty oz is complaining!"

"silence the two of you!"

"no, i think the line is perfect as it is. let us leave it that way."

you are the first one except for vil to try out the makeup products the dorm leader made and it would turn out pretty amazing that leads the two of you taking pictures together while posting it on magicam

whenever you got free time, you accompany vil to the film research club - it turns out you are doing pretty good in the club and even helped the other student having troubles in staying in role while grim and oz help out in doing the props

curiosity winning over, some of the students asked how you are so talented in such things and that is when vil saw you break in character - seeing the true you

"some may say i am just running away from reality by having this kind of persona and it became my safe space. and recently i realized that running away from my past is not a good thing at all so i came to accept it and it made me a better person that i am right now. for i am "

"so you can't talk without putting tongue twisters in my head!"

ever since then , he would let you and oz come to him anytime whether be it the most simple or a big problem - vil will be always open to hear you talk about your day

"try pushing yourself as hard as you can while keeping your experience level in mind and you can always come to me whenever you like."

: ̗̀➛ rook hunt

"i, (name), have roamed the galaxy and traversed countless worlds. I have learned the fate of ten thousand universes and have had revealed unto me the destiny of every living soul."

"oh how magnifique! do tell me more of thy tales, votre majesté de condamnation."

if everyone didn't know that you are that student who didn't get sorted into any dorm and hailed from another world, they would've thought that you and rook are very much related 😭

like even just meeting each other for like 30 minutes you, oz and rook are already on the same wavelength!

indulges himself in your stories by presenting that he is also from a faraway place known to be a hunter protecting his queen

"you've known eure majestät so now to whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"marvelous! i, on the other hand, am quite known to be the loyal hunter who hailed from a faraway land - ought to do his duty to protect his queen."

you have nicknames for each other such as votre majesté de condamnation and ritter des jägers despite it being different in language but hey you can still understand each other through feelings because it knows no bounds

unlike vil, rook will openly dote on you like an older brother - brings things that you definitely won't really need but still makes you happy + shower you in hugs and praises + gifts you novels after knowing you spend your time in the library

what shocked him the most is how terrifying you could be in gathering information, as if you are on level with him in this field.

"sir oz! what a wonderful day to grace me with your presence."

"eure majestät would like you to try the dish they made to congratulate you on your win during the archery contest."

"liver pâté? how did they-"

"oh no they did not stalk you, it's just that they notice how your mood seems to lighten up talking about this specific dish."

it warms his heart to know that you consider him as one of your closest friend and he could really feel you caring for everyone you met in your journey. while you are in this world- he will make sure you will enjoy every moment in twisted wonderland

: ̗̀➛ epel felmier

"dusk and dawn but fleeting shadows are. once more, the twists of fate have led you into my everlasting night."

"fleeting everlasting what?"

at first it would be a mess just leaving you alone with epel without the help of oz's translation because to the first year it seems like you are talking riddles

but after getting to know each other for a while, epel realizes that you are not so bad at all! in fact you are like one of the people he admire the most

"such an exquisite delicacy is worthy of being served in the garten sanssouci."

"yes, yes apple pies are delicious i know."

even oz is fond of the first year due to him being spoiled by epel in grim dismay because now he is having a competition over epel's free apples

"(naaaaaaame)! oz stole my apple again!"

"i certainly wouldn't do such horrendous action eure majestät!"

"oh (nickname) is with deuce and ace right now. did you finish all their apple again?"

saw your strength first hand and not going to lie - your fighting style and strength really surpassed all the other people he admire and very proud to be called as your best friend

always grateful because you never seem to view him as someone who is weak or mistook him as a girl but recognized him for the things he had accomplished

"you can be who you really are regardless of the dorm you are in. as said before, the magic mirror house you to the dorm that reflects your true self the most."

"i may be in pomefiore, but… i’m still me!"

after that, you became more inseparable, even vil and rook thinks that you are like twins at this point. you always got each others back no matter what 🫂

#twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #disney twisted wonderland #twst reader insert #twst x reader #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst scenarios #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #pomefiore

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faelune-home · 8 months

Text

FFXIVWrite 2023 #4: Off the Hook

(A/n: I'm very grateful for the 1st week leeway on submissions and writings cos this week in particular is not in my favour, it's hard to focus on writing and I've already missed a prompt.

But I finally finished this one; a lil sibling focused work, cos of course, I adore the twins, and I adore their growth. So I decided to focus on that and having both twins recognise how much the other has matured from when they last met. Kind of applying the prompt in the sense that they won't really hold pre-concieved notions against each other since they've improved and changed now.

Set at the end of 3.4.

Word count: 1428)

Revenant’s Toll was never truly quiet, even deep into the night. Alive with the bustle of adventurers and merchants burning the midnight oil, many coming and going either off into the Coerthan roads or out into Mor Dhona’s rocky plains, there was always something happening.

It was enough of a din to become white noise for Alisaie’s thoughts, settled as she was on the bridge running over the settlement. The Rising Stones had gained quite the crowd upon Yda and Papalymo’s return, and she wasn’t much for the chatter, especially when she still didn’t really know anyone there besides the archons and the Warrior of Light. And really, she had much to think about, and she would prefer to be alone with her musings anyway.

She would prefer it, and yet–

“I was worried when I couldn’t find you.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes and straightening up from her lean against the wall to cast a glare back at Alphinaud as he approached. As usual, he didn’t really stop or flinch, unperturbed by her guarded stance. Though it was a small relief that he didn’t carry himself with the same smug superiority she remembered from when they lived at home.

“I’m perfectly fine, brother, just stepped out for some air. I can’t deal with the fuss and the party atmosphere either, you know that,” she replied, “Not that I’d fit in much anyway.” His eyebrow raised at her words, but he didn’t press it further. Instead he joined her in looking down at the thriving community beneath their feet.

“Is it always this busy?” she asked.

“Yes, I’d say so. It’s a central hub for travelling merchants, and many independent adventurers and hunters like the neutrality. I can’t recall it being quiet, even in the early days when the Scions first settled here and it was fairly young itself.” Then the corner of his mouth quirked slightly.

“Dare I ask if this is ‘too much fuss’ for you sister?” he asked, a light tease in his tone. She gave him a small shove as he chuckled, her puff clearly more affected than before.

“Shove off, I can handle it fine. I’m not going to race off to a quiet spot every time a crowd blows through, I just needed the space tonight.” Still she allowed herself a small laugh to go along with him.

“Good, good. I did expect as much, but all the better to check,” Alphinaud said.

“Oh of course, always hovering just to say you’re abreast of the situation. Might I even say you’re being a touch over-protective,” Alisaie hummed, arms crossed, though her tone was still light.

“Well, I’m trying not to overstep - Thaliak knows you’ve never liked that - but I just wanted to make sure you were well. I wouldn’t like to think you were so uncomfortable that you would leave again,” Alphinaud admitted, looking surprisingly serious.

Even as Alisaie’s eyebrow arched, he continued, “I know full well you can take care of yourself, and you have more than proven that with recent events, but if I may be honest, the thought of you out there on your own worries me, especially given our last encounter and further…how you returned to us.”

While she was already taken aback by his straightforward admittance, his final word left her feeling ruffled, enough to try and stumble, “Well that…I’ll confess that wasn’t my finest moment.”

“Certainly not,” Alphinaud scowled, arms folding sharply, though he clearly wasn’t actually upset with her. A melancholy look shone in his eye.

“I couldn’t begin to imagine what I would do if you had been seriously hurt or worse.” Alisaie wasn’t certain how to respond, given how heavy the air had gotten between them. Alphinaud seemed to realise it too, as he caught himself and offered a friendlier smile.

“I would like for you to stay and join us, if you would. Not to mind you or because I think you incapable, but because I think you would do well here with us, in the Scions. You have a capable skillset and I’m sure you’ve gathered connections from your travels, all of which we are in great need of now. In fact, we have need of companions-- friends and allies now more than ever.”

“That is…for a start, I appreciate that you think so highly of me brother, even if it is just trying to get me to stay,” she said, a proud smile on her lips, though the weight of his words still left it smaller than she would’ve liked, “I’ll still need to think about it, of course. You know I’ve never been one for formality.” Even as he clearly looked warmed by her response, as non-committal as it was, Alisaie’s expression sobered.

“But, so long as we’re both here and you’ve said your piece, I have something I wish to confess… Namely that I didn’t fully realise how much you’ve matured since our separation.” It was his turn to look taken aback, though like her, he didn’t immediately respond, giving her time to think on her words before she said more.

“Last time we had seen each other we had finally sealed the Coils and discovered the truth about Grandfather. And for so long I still had that image of you in my mind, I kept expecting you to act like you did then; like you know everything, and you had this infallible plan, as well as you insisting on hovering over me. As though I would make a mistake and need your divine help to fix it all.”

Her speech may have gotten a touch bitter as she recalled the experience, for all their foray into the Coils had ended with success, and she did recall them going their separate ways on somewhat better terms than they’d started. But she softened again as she continued.

“I kept thinking all of that, but I was wrong. I’ve misjudged you now, since at least in my absence, you’ve grown, and I haven’t paid it any mind. I can’t think of what you’ve been through for you to come out the other end this changed--” That wasn’t entirely true, she had certainly heard the news of the Crystal Braves after all while on the road… “-- but I’m glad to see you unharmed at least, and a more considerate person for it.”

Alphinaud’s expression had turned rueful as she’d spoken, and he didn’t immediately respond once she finished. He contemplated carefully.

“Your thoughts of me from those earlier days are not wrong, and the more you said, the more I find myself ashamed of my attitude back then. I did think myself the only one capable of handling everything, of saving yourself and the nation’s leaders from their own hubris. I had my lofty ambitions to blind me and in the end, I was burned for my folly. I wouldn’t say I’m entirely unharmed from the experience, but I would like to think I’m more careful about where I step, even if my path is still the same.”

His hands had tightened into fists, jaw set firm as he reiterated his goal. Alisaie offered his shoulder a gentle squeeze, then a light hearted shove to shake off the deep scowl he’d gained.

“That’s good. Ambitious though you were, I couldn’t say your goals weren't well placed. Perhaps better attained with the help of others and not just yourself. And like I said, maybe I’ll be part of this effort…if I feel inclined.”

“Even the offer alone is more than enough, sister. I appreciate it.” The air cleared between them, they both leaned against the wall, allowing a moment of silence to comfortably settle, staring up at the stars.

“Not to linger on it further,” Alisiae suddenly started, clearly keeping her eyes trained away from him, “but I suppose I would like to hear about what happened to you and the other Scions. If you wish. At the very least learning about your time in Ishgard would be nice…and maybe I could tell you where I’ve been. Maybe.”

Alisaie’s awkward offer hung for a moment, Alphinaud coughing to cover up the beginnings of a chuckle at her earnest attempt.

“Well, we could certainly talk about it over some tea. Perhaps back at the Stones? Now, if you’re not opposed?” he suggested sincerely. Alisaie’s eyes rolled, but she was smiling nonetheless.

“Even though the café above the House of Splendors is closer…Oh very well then. It’s probably calmed down now anyway. And I’m sure you can handle the talking as you always do.”

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #alphinaud leveilleur #alisaie leveilleur #fufu's writing #heavensward #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv

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unholywriter · 1 year

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Chapter One

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III

Warnings: None.

“We’re all Runaways.”

Chapter Two - A Rouge to be.

Ironheart, wildly known for its ore and bitter cold nips within the air was beginning to wake up. A few early birds trudged through the at least two and a half feet of snow. Carrying baskets full of fresh bakes to take to the bakeries or deliver, and their cloaks dragging behind them. Men that were the guards with great-swords, maces and ax’s at their back exit the barracks for their shifts today. The ones who were on the graveyard shift stumbling back inside.

Nor’i sniffled soldering soon to find the nearest open shop. Walking up into the market square the snow was being shoveled away, leading paths too entrances of building’s and stalls assorted in even spaces.

Inside the warmth hit like a brick, it was a rush of chills that ran down her spine but again very welcomed. A young looking Elven fellow sat at the counter, scribbling away onto some parchment. As Nor’i approached, he did not look toward yet. He had long, dirty blonde hair that was shaven at the left side. On his ears were two black jeweled piercings that were placed at his lobes. His honey toned, tired eyes continued to keep their attention as he wrote, and Nor’i had to clear her throat to have those same honey toned eyes look at her.

“Gods I’m sorry, would you believe me if I said I didn’t hear you come in?” He spoke, his tone just a sweet.

“I might now since you’re the least rude person I’ve bumped into today.” She replied, a tilt at her head but not an emotion aside neutral blankness could be noted. A small smile tugged his lips as he tried to shake the apparent grogginess away.

“We’ll it is the morning, and my sister had to have me open up this early because we have to maintain business.” He set the quill down.

“Ah yeah, siblings. I was an only child though, but I do count my childhood friend as a brother. He would always make sure I was up not a minute later then the time we were supposed to be.” A small smile was finally displayed. She remembered those simple times all to well.

“Sounds like our siblings are alike then. On another note - welcome too Linnie and Vinnie’s, traveling shopkeep. We range with various goods. You can find armor, too the potion of fire breathing that might save your life in a pinch. What can I do for such a beautiful woman like you this fine morn’?” He put his face into his right palm, that smile still not subsiding.

“I’d like to possibly grab a few health potions, see your selections of daggers, and browse your best light armors.” She headed straight to the point, ignoring his attempt at flattery.

“And the beautiful woman knows exactly what she wants, I like you even better my amastacia.” He got up, heading to pull a set of daggers out. “These are our non magical daggers that deal quite a good lot of damage if used right. Some of the finest elven smithed daggers you can find, straight from the chambers of a high bidder that decided to swindle me if you catch my drift.” After a quick wink, he bent again pulling out a red velvet box, opening it to revel a short black dagger. “This is a personal favorite of mine, blinking in and out of existence. It’s got me out of quite a few binds.” He picked up the blade, running his finger over it. “I’d hate too see it go, but if I know it’s in good hands, I might give it to you at discount price. Especially if you decide to come find me to do more business later down the road.”

“You don’t even know me.” Another tilt to her head, and that empty look upon her face still lingered. “I might never come to find you after this transaction.”

“I’m quite perceptive.” He twirled the blade around his fingers now, his grin tugging even further.

“Is that all you’ve got?” She questioned, placing her hands down and leaning forward on the counter. “Or are you holding out on me?”

He chuckled, setting the blade down. “Sadly I’m being honest. We’re fresh out of wondrous daggers for now until we head into the trade market in a much more refined area.”

“And this dagger is magical? I’ll have to attune right?” Nor’i questioned now, finding an interest in said dagger. A special friend not to far back would have liked this one. She smiled internally too herself.

“Yes.”

“How much.”

“A thousand gold.”

“You said you might give me a discount price.”

“If I knew it were in good hands.”

“My hands have a lot of experience, don’t worry about that part. Good? I’ve been tittering on a fine line there for a while. Skilled on the other hand, there’s a difference.” He went and placed his hand over the hilt of the blink knife now.

With a narrow of his eyelids and a shifty grin he spoke, “Is that so.” At the pit of her stomach she felt it. In a flash he blinked out, and in a split second she had grabbed both the daggers laid down, and turned where he’d be just as quick. One was at his neck, the other at his stomach both at an angle to kill. His blink dagger’s tip lifting her chin up to meet his gaze. Nor’i’s cheeks burned from the sudden closeness. But she felt no real danger, even with a blade so close that could kill. The thrill got her blood pumping in away she admitted made her even flushed than usual. “You’re not a fine-tuned Rouge yet.”

“Monk first, Rouge later.” Her eyelids narrowed with a playful glare. He let out another set of chuckles now, she still holding him at knife point just the same.

“My names Linnie.” He dropped the dagger at his side finally, moving a step back to give her space.

“I don’t have a name, got it?”

“That’s fine by me, amastacia suits you well. So get used too it.”

Nor’i walked out of Linnie and Vinnie’s with a blink dagger, a new set of leather armor that isolated heat for the cold weather. It kept her quiet and well defended whilst not putting her at disadvantage on her movements. A couple healing potions were in safe keeping, and she continued on to grab some rations for a week. Into the bag of holding it all went.

She followed the tavern keep’s instructions next. At least to pop by. Most all nobles expect punctuality right? Down a long walled path, she managed to stop at a tall looming gate. It felt like death here, and she didn’t like it all to well. The gate itself had been pushed open previously. Snow piled at the other side, and a path of footprints she’s been following continued on. It had snowed late that night so, this is a new set. A new visitor. At least unless the servants here don’t live in this mansion.

Up the steps too this light bricked, wooden logged manor and too the big set of double doors she shifted on. Nor’i took the large knocker at the dark elm door, slamming down a couple times to get the message a-cross.

Thirty seconds pass, and a few snow flakes began to flow around her again. The wind catching exposed skin, and the cold still blistering the tip of her nose and ears. A lock, and then another lock and slowly with a heavy pull came to view a small man with a hunched over back peering at the new visitor to his Lordship’s home.

“O-oh dear me. Wasn’t expecting this many visitors for Lord Euston this early in the morning today.” He spoke so timidly, it made Nor’i taken aback.

“Sorry to drop in so early, I’m here about possibly looking into the mysterious death of his son.” She explained bluntly, which took the servant off guard quite easily as well. A pass like ping pong if you will.

“Well, it is quite early. Although, I do know he wakes at five in the morning. That is if he’s gotten a lick of s-sleep at all.” He clasped his hands together, and looked nervously over his shoulder. “You can come in and wait here with our other visitor.” He turned back too Nor’i. “Please, please follow me! It’s very frigid out there.”

He lead her inside, and too her right she saw the same person who knocked into her early this morning. What in the Gods is he doing here?

“Are you positive he’ll be able to speak to me?” Nor’i questioned now, a slight annoyance left her lips.

“I-I’ll have to go and find out. Just can’t leave any guests out in the cold no, no, no. That won’t do at all.” He held out his hand to gesture for her to stand next to the other guest he spoke of. “Please do wait here. I’ll be back with Lord Euston’s word.”

And with that he turned heal still hunched with such bad posture it made Nor’is back hurt. His still hands were clasped together and he swiftly walked with fast pace up the steps and turned down the great hall to his left. That left Nor’i and this jerk that didn’t say sorry or at least help her up in the tavern. She made her way and stood at least a good five feet from him. A minute of silence past. She didn’t say a word, and then another, and another. Her fingers fidgeted and with a deep breath in she spoke.

“You know you usually are supposed to apologize when you run into people.” Nor’i didn’t look back to him when she spoke. He nor to her, paying no true intentional mind to make proper conversation. But he did reply, for the sheer impatience of having to wait only.

“I believe you ran into me.” His tone, it was well snobby putting. This made Nor’i snap her head back to him finally. Looking his very well put posture over, his upper class clothing that was well tended too. If he was an adventurer, his scuffles he’d get himself in only meant he’d take extra time to mend his clothes. Unless he’s a wizard or sorcerer of some kind? Mending would be so easy with that spell. “I believe you’re the one being rude now staring me down I might add.”

Nor’i didn’t look away as their eyes met. “Staring? No. Sizing you up, and possibly coming to a conclusion that you’re an asshole who doesn’t give two shits about the people around him? Yes.”

A scoff come out if his mouth, and he turned away to look back toward the stairs. “I have no time for your peasantry attitude.”

“I come from a fine line thank you.” She looked back away with the biggest look of annoyance plastered upon her face. At least, her line was good before her mother and father past, having her grandfather snap and make the monastery into an unbearable, viscous cult sucked and haunts her every move.

He didn’t say another word, and neither did Nor’i. A couple minutes later and the servant who greeted them both came slowly down the stairs. His back still hunched over, and his hands still clasped within the other. Stopping before the two, a look of pure belittlement was read upon his features. “I’m sorry, Lord Euston will not be taking visitors today.”

“I’ve been trying to contact him for a day now, does he not have time for one simple conversation?” This stranger at which has not been named yet rose out one of his hands in gesture.

“I thought all of you nobles were in each other’s pockets.” She muttered, which the man did hear at which he shot another look of annoyance toward her. The servant looked amongst them two now. His nervousness well apparent.

“You just said- Oh forget about it.” He looked to the servant yet again. “Reginald, please could you let Lord Euston know it’s urgent.”

“I did, but he is very busy I’m afraid. His business takes a lot of his time.” The servant now known as Reginald spoke up yet again. “That means he will not be seeing any visitors.”

“There’s no changing his mind if you attempt again Reggie?” Nor’i huffed. Reginald sort of hesitated with the use of a nickname from a stranger girl, but he nodded to reply.

“Uh, yes there would be no use.” He simply tried putting a bold line under his answer.

A sigh left the young man’s lips and he put his hand to his forehead, pressing glasses he wore further back to fit against the bridge of his nose properly. Softly he muttered, “There’s got to be away to talk to him.”

“That’s a shame.” Nor’i pipped up, but then she took one step forward and began to walk past him.

“W-Wait! You can’t-“

With a quick swift whip, out came her trusty Thumper to halt Reginald’s movement’s as it pointed directly at his nose. “I’m seeing your Lord, so if you value your pretty little face, I’d suggest you not make any actions against me.”

With narrow of her eyelids added, the sheer panic set in as he held up his hands. “I d-don’t want any t-trouble! But I beg you, h-he should not be disturbed!” A high pitched squeak left his throat, making Nor’i almost feel sorry for him.

She let the staff fall at her side and she began on. The young noble stranger that stood where he was the entire time, watched as she made her way up the stairs now. He did like the fact she seemed to want to get things done, and he did believe this young bratty woman had no evil malice to her. Although, quite chaotic to be frank. He sighed, knowing this was his chance. He then began to follow in foot, as Reginald begged for both to cancel this brashness.

Footnote: amastacia “star flower" in Elven.

Chapter Three

#percy de rolo #taliesin jaffe #the legend of vox machina #vox machina #percy de rolo x reader #dnd #dnd shenanigans #dungeons and dungeons #critical role #percy de rolo smut #nor’ival #nor’i vo #nor’i #Percy and Nor’i

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thetravelerwrites · 2 years

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Birch (Part 2)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Female Human/Male Centaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Centaur, Social Communication Disorder, Autism, Semi-Verbal Autism, Reader Insert Content Warnings: Verbal Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Size Difference, Overbearing Mother, Anxiety Disorder Words: 4491

Hazel attempts to get used to life on the farm and winds up spending time with Birch, only for one of Birch's casual lovers to arrive at the farm unannounced. Please reblog and leave feedback!

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The farmhouse was massive, three stories at least, and the barn beyond it was even bigger. There were already people out in the fields, watering and weeding the rows, though they stopped and came closer when you arrived. You’d seen many of them, including the humans and Yew, the other centaur and Birch’s brother. However, the cervitaur, the large reddish bat with a blunt snout, the huge black bat with a fox-like face, and the boy with a dog body from the waist down were a shock. There was also a golden harpy perched on the roof, staring down at you quizzically with a young kitsune on her back.

“Here we are,” Ryel said, jumping down and turning to help you slide off Birch’s back. “Everyone, this is Hazel. I’m not going to introduce all of you at once because I don’t want to overwhelm the poor dear, so make sure you introduce yourselves in your own time. Give her some space, though; this is all very new and strange for her. She has trouble with her words, so don’t badger her with questions, either.”

There were murmurs of welcome, and you nodded acknowledgement.

“Is this the young lady you wouldn’t stop talking about, brother?” Another centaur asked, a lop-sided grin on his face. This was Yew, Birch’s brother, who had dark skin and black and white fur.

Birch cuffed his brother on the back of the head. “Don’t say unnecessary things!”

“Mama! Birch hit me!” Yew complained in a mocking voice.

“Stop it, you two,” Ryel said, pulling both of their wrists. “Having a new lodger is no reason to act like fools.”

“Don’t stand around gawking,” Birch said, waving his siblings off. “You’ve all got work to do, don’t you?”

A few of them snorted at their younger brother ordering them around, but they dispersed. The giant black bat came forward propelled by his long, winged arms, using them in a similar way as crutches, and stopped in front of you.

“I’m Declan, Ryel’s husband,” He said, his voice as deep as a cavern. “Welcome to our home. I understand you have some communication problems, but don’t be afraid to come to me or Ryel if you need anything. We’re happy to have you here.”

You nodded, staring at his fuzzy belly. He looked really soft, but the thought of asking to touch his fur made your ears turn red.

“Now,” Ryel said, putting her arm around your shoulder. “How about a tour?”

You nodded.

“Go find something to do, Birch,” She said, waving a dismissive hand at her son, who had been hovering. “She’s in good hands.”

“I know, I know,” He said with a laugh. He patted your head before turning to follow the others. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Come on, lass, let’s get you settled in and look around,” Ryel said. “There’s a couple of things I’d like to show you.”

Ryel led you into the house, and you were startled to see that the first floor was completely open with no walls, except for a semi-closed off washing area close to the back doors and a curtained-off bedroom on the opposite side you assumed was for Declan, since he seemed too large to climb the stairs. The majority of the first floor appeared to be mostly made up of a kitchen, pantry and larder, and dining area complete with two large tables, a tall one for the four-legged folks and a short one, low to the ground, for the two legged folks. Neither table had chairs; it seemed that the family were meant to either stand while eating or sit on the ground around the low table. The only chair you saw was a raised one for small children to sit in.

She showed you to the third floor, where most of the two-legged sleeping quarters were, and into the ladies’ guest quarters, which had four cots and a chest at the foot of each bed for personal items, much like a barracks. Since there were no other guests at the time, you could choose your own bed, and you chose the one right next to the wall and farthest from the window.

Once you’d put your belongings away, she showed you to the second floor where the working rooms were. There was a room for sewing, a room for woodworking, and a room for candle-making and other types of wax-work.

“This is the sewing room,” Ryel said, leading you inside. “We don’t do too much fiber work here on the farm beyond spinning and knitting, but we do make most of our own clothes. For those of us who wear clothes, that is. Just so you won’t be surprised: the four-legged and fur covered kids often don’t wear clothes and Lymera, our faun, likes to be nude more often than not. She’s not here at the moment, though; she’s gone to the Temple for training.”

In the middle of the sewing room was a big loom, almost like a centerpiece. It was beautiful and well-built out of a dark wook and you were drawn to it immediately. Ryel saw you eyeing it.

“We were gifted this a few months ago, but honestly, we’re not sure what to do with it. Many of my girls, and quite a few of my boys, can spin and knit and sew, but none of us have the faintest idea how to use this. You wouldn’t happen to know how to use it, would you?”

You nodded enthusiastically. This was one thing you knew very well, since your father ran a textiles shop. Looms of every kind were squarely in your wheelhouse.

“Wonderful!” Ryel said, patting your shoulder. “This is all yours, then, lass. We’ve got more than enough thread, yarn, and dyes, so you can get started whenever you like.”

You smiled and pet the frame of the loom, eager to begin.

After that, she took you back outside to see a cave nearby the house, the entrance of which was hidden behind a fallen, hollow tree. Ryel told you it had originally been her’s and Declan’s home for years before they began taking in children and needed bigger accommodations. The cave now served as storage for their preserved and jarred foods that needed to be kept in a cool, dark place to prevent premature spoiling.

Then she led you to the barn, which was housing for the larger and four-legged family members. The middle of the barn was mostly empty space with a large table in the center between the support beams with several long benches on either side. This place seemed to be the social area for the entire family, since open books and small, half-finished handy works were laid out on the table.

There were six stalls on each side of the barn, each with a large stall door that had been modified to allow privacy; the interior of the stalls were more like bedrooms than stables, with leaning beds or nests, bookshelves, and side tables. At the moment, Birch, Yew, Toklo, Reed, his wife, and their children lived there, with the kids having one of the stalls to themselves. All of the others were open and empty.

Above the stalls were lofts that served as additional accommodations for when the main house was at capacity; apparently the farm hosted travelers regardless of weather or season, and often took in people who were in dire straits, refugees and other folks desperate to escape terrible situations, and the family never turned away a person in need.

Behind the barn was a much smaller open-air stable, where the livestock of guests were kept, and behind that was a smithing shed and a tanning shed. A short walk away brought you to a river where they pulled their water. There was a strange device on the side of the river Ryel had told you one of her children, Cetzu, had invented for irrigating the crops.

Once the tour was done, it was time to begin cooking the evening meal. You knew a bit about cooking, so you were invited to come in and assist with preparing dinner, and considering how large and open the first floor was, there was little chance of being underfoot. Thankfully, the others took Ryel’s words to heart and didn’t ask you too many questions except when necessary, and they were all unfailingly polite.

It was a hot day, so the family decided to eat dinner in the barn, to escape the heat of the kitchen in the house. The barn had large double doors on either side of the building as well as large frameless windows in the upper portion near the lofts, so the summer breeze wound freely into and out of the building. After laying out the food and putting some cushions down so that the four-leggeds could kneel down, they all sat and began to dish out the plates.

There were quite a large number of people around you that you didn’t know and had no interaction with, which made you feel a little uncomfortable and self-conscious. It helped that you were in an open space with clear exits, but you weren’t used to this much exposure to other people. It also helped that the food was meant to be eaten by hand, so there were no grating sounds of utensils against plates, which is one thing that made you incredibly anxious.

Reed’s wife, Yala, began to address you in a friendly tone. She was a chubby young woman with reddish-brown hair and pretty doe-brown eyes, sitting directly across from you at the table.

“Since you have trouble talking, are you okay with just some yes or no questions?”

You nodded.

“Oh, good,” She said, wiping bits of food off of her youngest child’s face. “Are you liking it here so far?”

You nodded again, passing a plate of corn-on-the-cob to Toklo, who was sitting next to you. Instead of taking it, he raised his hands straight up into the air and leaned backward as if the plate was on fire. You recoiled in surprise.

Yew, who was on his other side, reached around him and took the plate instead. “Don’t worry about him. He’s almost completely a meat eater usually, but he also has trouble with touching certain things. Corn is one of the things that makes him uncomfortable.”

You made a soundless “oh” with your mouth, trying and failing to apologize.

“It’s fine,” He said, bringing his arms back down and accepting a plate of boar’s meat from you. “I’m just weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Ryel said.

“No, it is,” Toklo said. “Normal people aren’t scared to touch things.” He didn’t sound sad or self-deprecating. He just seemed like he was stating a fact. “Corn feels like teeth, and I don’t like touching teeth. I keep thinking they’ll bite me. I know that’s a silly thought, but I can’t help it.”

That made perfect sense to you, but you understood that others might find it odd. You had a similar issue with wool and anything that had a weird fuzz that didn’t seem like it should be there, like the fuzz on peaches.

You remembered Birch had mentioned that Toklo was the one who had no filter and was unable to prevent himself from saying whatever crossed his mind. You wondered what that must be like. Is that part of why he never went to town? Besides the fact that you’d never met a person like him, having the lower half of a dog, his problem with his speech might also make meeting people and making friends difficult. He was the first person you’d ever met with which you felt something like a kinship.

“Mama told me you know how to use the loom, is that right?” Yala asked. You nodded. “Oh, that’s great. Honestly, it’s been gathering dust in the sewing room for months. We were contemplating giving it to someone else, but we didn’t know who could use it, and since it was a gift to us, it would be in bad taste to give it away.”

“Not to mention what we could save on clothes,” Declan said, gesturing to his unclothed, fur-covered body, and the table laughed.

You’d come to like Declan in particular in the short time you’d been there. He had an innate, effortless way of making people feel at ease around him. Maybe it was magic, or perhaps it had to do with his monstrous size that forced him to develop such a skill so as not to scare away every person who came near the farm. It also definitely helped a lot that he had the sweet, inquisitive face of a fox.

The next day, you met Birch by chance when hauling up some washing water from the river.

“Here, let me take that for you,” He said, reaching for it. You handed it to him. “I’m glad I ran into you, actually. I know Mama is planning to teach you to read and write, but I know some simple hand signs that a friend of the family taught me. I could teach you, if you’d like. It might help you communicate better, even if it’s only with the family.”

You looked up at him, pleasantly surprised, and you nodded your head fervently.

“Great!” He said, smiling at you, the lopsided dimple in his left cheek very prominent. “Let’s meet up again after lunch, alright?”

You nodded again and managed to give him a smile, and he ruffled your hair with a grin.

“I like that smile,” He said. “I hope I get to see it more often.”

You blushed and looked away, covering your face.

He chuckled as the two of you reached the porch. He set the water bucket down on the wood and gave you something like a salute.

“See you in a while,” He said and trotted off, his tail flicking playfully. You watched him go for a moment, and continued with your chores.

Later, you met him in the small orchard near the stables. The orchard was in a circle formation with a clearing in the center for, as Birch said, lounging. He lay his horse body down on the grass and placed a blanket for you to sit on.

“Okay, let’s start with something simple,” He said. “Hello.” He folded the thumb of his right hand against his palm and pressed the other fingers flat, touching it to the center of his chest and drawing outward without turning his hand. You copied him. “Good. Let’s try food.” He pressed his fingertips together and tapped them twice against his chin. “If you combine food,” He repeated the gesture. “And throat,” He drew the tips of his thumb and pointer finger down his neck. “It means ‘hungry.’”

You repeated the gestures, both for “food” and for “hungry,” and Birch praised you.

“Let’s try ‘help.’” He curled the fingers of both hands, crossed them over his chest, and waved them as if scratching, and you copied him.

The lesson spanned about an hour, and at the end, he quizzed you on the signs you’d learned. You were able to remember most of them and were pleased with the outcome. You couldn't sign full sentences, you discovered, the signs were more a means of conveying simple emotions and immediate needs rather than for carrying on a conversation. Despite that, you felt as if you had more access to others than you had before.

“You’re doing really well,” Birch said, ruffling your hair again. “Let’s do this twice a week, okay? And practice with the family, too. Practicing makes it easier to remember, and everyone in the house can understand the signs, even if they don’t possess the digital dexterity to perform them, like Declan.”

You nodded and signed thank you.

He grinned. “Ah, it’s nothing. If you run into a sign you need but don’t know, come and find me and I’ll help, alright?”

You nodded again and smiled.

He smiled softly at you. “I’m glad you came to stay here,” He said. “I was worried about you.”

You looked at him in surprise, unsure of how to respond. Was he just flirting with you, or was he being genuine? Both? What did he have to gain by telling you this?

You pointed at yourself and made the sign for “happy.”

His smile widened, his eyes gentle. “I’m glad. I was a little worried we’d forced you to do something you didn’t want.”

You shook your head.

“That’s good, then.” He held out his hand to help you to your feet and plucked up the blanket, standing. “Harvest will be coming up in a month or two,” He said as the two of you walked back to the farmhouse. “It’s the time of year when the farm gets really busy, but I’ll try to keep our lesson schedule as well as I can.”

You signed “yes” to show you understood.

The weeks went by, and you were having a wonderful time. You spent a lot of time in the sewing room, weaving, and the fabric you made was sold for you in the surrounding towns, which allowed you to earn your own money for the first time in your life.

After a month of writing lessons with Ryel and Declan, who you learned was a voracious reader, you’d learned enough that you were able to write your name and some simple words, and wrote your first letter to your mother and sent it with Birch on one of his frequent trips to town. It wasn’t more than, “I’m alright. I love you.” But it would be enough to satisfy your mother and prove to her that you were doing well. You hoped.

Most of the human women often gathered in the sewing room to work when there was no work for them in the fields, so you almost always had company. To your surprise, Kurra, the gnoll, was also quite a deft hand at knitting, though he wore no clothes himself, and he seemed to enjoy spending time with his sisters more than spending time with his brothers. The only human that didn’t work in the sewing room was Ryel, who said she had no patience for such things, preferring tasks that required a hammer and axe rather than a needle and thread.

They were friendly and helpful and they didn’t pressure you to communicate, but they were careful to include you so that you didn’t feel isolated or left out. If there was only one person in the room with you, they were happy to work in silence in close proximity, and you felt more comfortable in their presence.

As you became more at ease on the farm, you found you were able to say a bit more verbally than you had before. It wasn’t more than a word or two at a time here and there, but it was more than you’d managed to do since arriving at the farm.

In addition to the weaving and typical house chores, you also had reading lessons with Ryel twice a week, and signing lessons with Birch twice a week. The signs that Birch was teaching you helped a lot in interacting with everyone, and you felt a great deal of relief. Before, the only person you interacted with was your mother, and she wasn’t the most talkative or understanding, so you felt closed off from other people, as though locked away in a closet. The ability to write and sign had opened the door a little, giving you a greater sense of freedom.

Strangely, it seemed like Birch had run out of signs to teach you, but the lessons still continued. You weren’t complaining, since you enjoyed the time you spent with Birch, but it did strike you as odd. He said one or two things that might be considered flirty, but he came across as sincere most of the time. He never made a move on you, though, and you figured you just weren’t his type. He’d never really been picky in the past, but you could understand him not wanting you. Besides, even if he did, you didn’t want to just be a fling, either, as much as you adored him.

You were still attracted to Birch. Being close with him like this hadn’t done anything to quell those feelings; on the contrary, your affection for him grew and grew the more you got to know him. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore and insist that it was just an infatuation. You were in love with him. Hopelessly, helplessly in love. And you knew you were going to be hurt by it, but you couldn’t help it.

At the beginning of the next month, right as harvest was due to start, guests arrived at the farmhouse for the first time since you’d been there. Guests were a normal occurrence, you were told, but it had been a slow season, since the heat of summer was nothing short of oppressive and not many people left home in this heat if they didn’t absolutely have to.

A caravan of covered wagons came up the trail, and everyone set down their work to welcome them. Apparently, they were well known to the farm folk, since a lot of the family smiled and waved in welcome, going to give many of the newcomers hugs and kisses on the cheeks. Despite welcoming guests at all hours, the family was actually quite reserved and guarded around outsiders until they got a better sense of their intentions and personalities.

“Birch!” A woman called from the driver’s box of the leading wagon.

“Layla!” He called, cantering over. She launched herself from the wagon at Birch, who caught her, and they kissed full on the mouth.

You felt gutted, watching them. You knew you had no right to feel jealous, since Birch had shown you no romantic interest, and you hadn’t expressed yours, either, but it still cut you to your core.

“Welcome!” Declan called. “You folks are just in time! We’re due to start the harvest in a few days. How long do you plan to stay?”

“We were thinking a week,” Layla said as Birch put her back on her feet. “Sorry, big guy, we’ve got some cargo to run from Dunmountain to the coast, so we won’t be here for the whole thing, but we can help out for the first few days.”

Declan chuckled. “Any help is better than no help. We appreciate the extra hands, as always.”

“Are the lofts empty?” Layla asked.

“Sure are,” Ryel replied. “So are the guest rooms.”

“Ah, you know me,” Layla said with a grin. “I like the open air.” She looked at Birch and winked. His grin widened.

“If you say so,” Declan said. “Come along and let’s get you settled in. Most of the daytime chores are done, so there’s not much to do until dinner.”

Everyone went their separate ways to do this and that, and Birch passed you on his way to the barn. He stopped and studied your face for a moment.

“Alright?” He asked.

You swallowed down your discomfort and nodded. “Strangers,” You signed. “Nervous.”

“Ah, I see.” He ruffled your hair. “Don’t be nervous. They’ve been coming ‘round the farm for years now. They’re good folks.”

You nodded again, and he tweaked your nose before trotting off.

Layla, Toklo informed you later, was one of the many infrequent lovers of Birch’s. She came to the farm around three or four times a year, and they’re trysts lasted only the amount of time she stayed at the farm. Toklo told you not to worry, since Birch always took his ladies away from the farm to have his fun, so you wouldn’t have to hear it. That didn’t make you feel better.

You decided not to bother them while Layla was at the farm, and instead stayed up in the sewing room to weave. The tedious repetition of the loom helped you take your mind off things.

The second day of Layla and her caravan’s stay, the family went down to the river to haul up water for washing and the caravan slept in. The jars for this year’s canning needed to be cleaned and prepared for when the fruit and vegetables were picked and pickled.

You’d finished a full section by midmorning and took the fabric downstairs to be washed and dyed when you saw them together from the porch. You didn’t want to watch them, as not only did it hurt, but it was an invasion of his privacy, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“You’ve gotten taller, I swear,” Layla said. “Look at all the muscle you’ve built since I last saw you.” She slid her hands up his arms and over his bare chest, her long nails dragging across the skin. Most of the non-humans didn’t wear clothes while on the farm, and Birch was one of them.

“Oh, yeah?” He said, bending down and pressing his fingers into her buttocks, pulling her body sharply against his, picking her up so that she could wrap her legs around his torso. She squealed. “How about I show you how well these muscles work tonight? Since we didn’t get to play last night.”

She giggled, pressing her breasts against him. “The clearing?”

“That’s our place, isn’t it?” He said in a low, sultry tone, kissing her collarbone. That kiss was a stab to the heart.

She bit her lip and jumped down off of him, pulling him down for a deep kiss, their tongues mingling. “I can’t wait, big boy. It’s been way too long.” And she trotted off.

He watched her go, smiling, and turned to see you standing there. At first, his smile widened and he started to approach, but after he’d had a moment to absorb the look on your face, your trapped and anxious demeanor, the tear sliding down your cheek, the smile slipped from his mouth and the color drained out of his face. He looked horrified. You could only imagine what your expression showed; whatever he saw on it disturbed him, sure enough, and why wouldn’t it? Why wouldn’t he be disgusted to learn that someone like you had feelings for him? Why wouldn’t he be horrified to see someone he took pity on watching his private moments with a lover? You would likely be horrified, too.

“Hazel…” He said, taking a step forward, reaching out a hand toward you.

You came out of your trance and your feet unrooted themselves; you turned and fled inside.

“Hazel, wait! Please come back!” You heard him call after you, his voice desperate, but you couldn’t look at him and didn’t want to be near him at the moment. As you launched yourself up the stairs, you heard a sharp CRACK sound, as if he’d kicked something hard enough to break it, and you also heard him loudly exclaim, “FUCK!”

The last glimpse you caught of him was from a window in the hallway, passing several of his siblings as they rushed out to see what the noise was. There was a cut on his back leg and he had his head in his hands.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Centaur #Reader Insert #Autistic Reader #Semi-Verbal Reader

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snapewife-divorce-lawyer · 24 days

Note

Whats your favorite Non-MLP Media?

Would it crossover well with MLP?

SPACE BATTLESHIP FUCKING YAMATO

of course the horribly americanized version i watched was called “Star Blazers”. but as an adult i have watched a sub.

now i am not nearly that old. i had a very sheltered, homeschooled childhood. so most of the tv i watched was tv from my dad’s childhood that he burned onto dvds. which meant a lot of loonytoons and fucking gijoe. and the old astroboy. not the old old astroboy, just the old one. my favorite thing we were allowed to watch was star blazers.

it’s an old as balls scifi anime. the earth gets nuked by aliens until there’s only a few million humans living underground. some different alien sends down spaceship blueprints and says if you come pick it up, i have a cool machine that will turn your planet back to normal. so humans build a spaceship out of a sunken wwii ship and travel to the other side of the galaxy fighting aliens the whole way.

it’s full of a bunch of cool spaceship fights and military porn that kinda? counts as? dieselpunk? the whole story resonates with me so awesomely. and the characters are stuck in my brain. even tho it’s a bit misogynistic. i wanted to BE the female lead. long before i knew what that meant. and they went hard with the music.

sadly, fandom spaces for this show are full of military diehards, and the sort of people who collect figurines of the characters half naked. either that or they’re just super old. so i’ve pretty much given up on having any kind of fandom experience

i do not recommend this show lol. i’ve revisited it several times and it simply is not as good as i remembered. don’t get me wrong i still love it, but i love it the way i love an aging pet who sleeps most of the day

you know what is as good as i remember it being is THE REBOOT

2199 is everything i remember the original being as a child. its so cool and fun and the characters are amazing and they fixed a lot of the misogyny. and its beautiful and the music is amazing and i love it so much and honestly yeah i do recommend this. if you like apocalypse scifi

my little pony might honestly be the first time my siblings and i were allowed to just watch tv. and of course i got a smart phone around that time too so that was the end of the TV famine. before that it really was just stuff that dad had burned on DVDs. There was like a year or two that we sort of watched Nickelodeon? But there were several shows we weren’t allowed to watch and we stopped getting cable after that year or two was over. also, there were several Disney TV shows that we could watch on the family computer like Zack and Cody and Kim Possible but I don’t think we were actually allowed to watch those? And they didn’t have all of the show online.

Space Battleship yamato is followed closely by Nichijou, and the Homestarrunner cartoons. to which i owe the majority of my sense of humor. i recommend nichijou to anyone. it’s only one season long and its non stop quality. it’s an absurdist comedy from japan. i recommend homestarrunner, but its much harder to get started on that. there’s just so much of it and im not even fully convinced ive managed to see all of it. various factors such as the death of flash have made it hard to access. kinda like homestuck

as for how well they would crossover with my little pony, I will MAKE them crossover with my little pony. I honestly want to do more crossovers. I’ve already done Star Wars and Star Trek, but I’d like to do some more of my favorites. And even more stuff that I like. Like let’s get some girly shows on there too. I really want to do strawberry shortcake. I also think it would be fun to do kim possible or Winx club. my sibling actually designed a bunch of ponified Percy Jackson characters, and I’ve been wanting to draw those. god if i weren’t about to head to work

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verymuchimmortalcat · 2 years

Text

Time Is A Lie™

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month Day 12: Time Travel

ao3

@maribat-bdbwm

When Ladybug finds Batman collapsed on a random rooftop in Paris, she freezes in shock. Her first thought is, akuma, followed by, no, that’s impossible, Hawkmoth was defeated years ago and the butterfly is in her possession. But B can’t be here. He’s in space. Watchtower duty.

Regardless, she hurries forward, checking his pulse. She lets out a breath in relief when she’s met with a steady consistent pulse. Whoever it is in front of her is either knocked out or asleep but otherwise as far as Marinette can tell completely unharmed.

This whole thing is messed up. Who would dress up in the batsuit and just show up in Paris. Even if it was some kind of message aimed at her very few people knew that Batman was her father. She exhales in frustration, she doesn’t want to call the others and freak them out before she knows what’s up but boy would she love their help right now.

And then she notices, the suit is different. It is a batsuit, definitely, but Marinette’s fairly certain her father hasn’t used this suit since she was pretty small. It’s not even fully black. She wonders how on earth she missed that. But who would even use this suit? It’s extremely outdated, functionality wise. Fashion wise, the batsuit never has and never will be a thing, even if she has to personally ensure it.

How would anyone even get their hands on this suit? Curious, she carefully removes the cowl.

She’s met with her father's face.

What the hell.

The next thing she knows, she has her yoyo out and is calling her father. His face appears on the screen, when he picks up and Marinette sags in relief. “Ladybug? Is everything fine?”

Marinette forces a smile onto her face, “Everything’s fine. Just needing to check something. Thank you. Bye.”

Hanging up quickly, she stares at the man in front of her. He’s younger, there’s barely any grey in his hair and fewer scars on his face. She frowns, time travel, maybe? It’s not impossible, she knows that better than anyone else. And that’s what everything seems to be pointing at. She groans, time travel is a Pain.

Sighing, she makes another call.

Max is there in a few seconds, opening a portal under her dad and into her room. The two of them wince when he lands with a thud on her floor but he continues to remain unconscious. Marinette only hopes, her parents are too busy wrapping things up in the bakery to notice. She jumps in next, calling out a thank you to Max, who nods in acknowledgement before he closes the portal.

Marinette sighs. What is she supposed to do now? All the time travel situations she’s been involved in have been along the lines of the world has been destroyed you gotta save it and not your dad from approximately 15 years in the past just showed up unconscious.

She considers calling Alix momentarily but she doubts that’ll be of any help. She supposes it’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t give away anything about the future, including her identity. She carefully removes all the photos she has with her siblings. Taking a deep breath, she decides to ignore her passed out father to work on her commissions.

There’s a soft noise a few hours later and Marinette doubts that she’d be able to hear it without her training. Turning around, she finds her dad looming over her, cowl back on.

“Oh good! You’re up! Wait no that makes me sound like a super villain. I’m not a super villain. I can’t really tell you who I am though, sorry. But I do know who you are but don’t worry I’d never tell anyone-”

“Marinette?”

“I- no,” she tries unconvincingly. Well, there goes not giving anything away.

“You have a photo with me on your desk,” he points out.

She groans, “I forgot about that, honestly.” He’s removed his cowl and he looks mildly hurt. Marinette had forgotten how much more easily B had expressed emotion before Jason’s death.

“I thought you’d be more surprised about the whole time travel thing.”

He looks her in the eye, “Aliens are real. Magic is real. Gods are real. Were you truly expecting me to be surprised?”

“I guess not.”

The silence that follows is awkward. Past B breaks the silence, asking, “so, how old are you?”

“How old am I in your time?”

“Five.”

“A few years younger than you are right now.”

She laughs at his obvious shock, “I didn’t really inherit the tall genes.”

She continues, “Anyways, what did happen?”

He frowns, “Honestly I don’t remember clearly, maybe something during patrol.”

“Were you alone?” she questions, urgently, when she’d been five Dick had been sixteen and the thought of him left alone makes her sick to her stomach.

Her father catches on immediately to what she means, “Dick is with the Titans,” he frowns, “and will be for the next few weeks.”

She relaxes. She’d forgotten about that, a bit shocking really given how mad she’d been at her dad after every time the two of them argued. She chuckles, “This is the nicest I’ve been to you in a while then?”

He sighs, “You threw your spoon at me during dinner.”

She bursts into laughter, “I distinctly remember that. I also distinctly remember you deserving it. Maybe you should listen to Dick sometimes.”

He grunts.

Marinette holds back a sigh, “I don’t think it’ll make a difference regardless of what I say because even if you think over what I say it’s highly unlikely you’ll remember any of this. This,” she gestures vaguely, “isn’t the kind of time travel I’m used to.”

It’s silent after that and Marinette returns to her commissions.

After a while he asks, “Why do you think I won’t remember any of this?”

She considers how to answer, “Because you would have written a log about it, maybe a top secret extremely hard to access log but a record would exist.”

“And?”

“And the next time we dealt with time travel we’d have had a record of it. Would’ve simplified a lot of things.”

There’s no reply from her dad and Marinette continues with her working. A few minutes later there’s a soft, “Oh.”

She turns to look at her vaguely translucent father.

Huh. Guess it’s a completely different kind of time travel form anything they’ve encountered before.

He smiles softly, “Bye Marinette.”

She smiles back and waves. Blinking, she frowns in confusion before turning back to her work, wondering why she’d turned away in the first place.

#maribat #bio dad bruce wayne #mbdbwm2022 #my writing

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jordansohollywood · 7 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/seancameronism/718717032203452416

Dee

I didn’t realize this ask has been sitting in my box for literal months. Sorry, Poorni! 😭

1. nickname? Dee is her nickname; it’s short for Deirdre.

2. relationship status? I mean, like, she used to be going with Travis (her neighbor), but now, she’s with Sean or whatevah!

3. comfort food? Lasagna. Especially the way her mom makes it. The meat? The cheese? Perfection, exactly!

4. favourite place in the world? Saint-Marc, Haiti. That’s where Dee grandparents are from, and whenever she goes with her family, she always has a great time. She loves the environment and culture.

5. biggest fear? In the concrete sense, heights. But if we’re speaking more abstractly, she’s afraid of not being loved. She’s afraid of being disliked by her peers.

6. special skill? Besides singing, Dee knows how to sew like a mf. Her grandma taught her, and she loved it ever since.

7. favourite outfit? Whenever she wears her pink off-the-shoulder sweater, her boot-cut jeans, and her black platform shoes, she feel like she got the juice.

8. biggest insecurity? People making fun of her.

9. relationship to their siblings? Antoine and Dee never really got along growing up, with their parents being the mediators. But when Antoine went to University her ninth grade year, their dynamic did a whole 360. They’re now more cordial with each other. Rodney and Dee were always really close with one another, being a year apart. They’ll always have each others’ back.

10. relationship to their parents? Dee’s relationship with her dad is pretty decent, but her and her mom butt heads a lot.

11. most embarrassing memory? Probably peeing her pants after drinking too much juice on a field trip in the second grade.

12. favourite animal? Dogs, because who doesn’t like dogs?

13. bed time routine? You’re assuming that she actually has one.

14. hobbies? Sewing, knitting, crocheting.

15. biggest weakness? Paying attention and talking about herself too much. It’s hard when your brain is on the Dee Germain station all the time.

16. favourite swear word? Fuck or goddammit.

17. achievement they are the most proud of? Getting honor roll throughout her eleventh grade year. After all she’s been through the year prior, she kind of deserved it.

18. favourite type of sport? Dee doesn’t really like sports, but one she tolerates is basketball.

19. mode of transportation? Dee usually walks or hassles Antoine for a ride — until she gets her license.

20. favourite thing to do to relax? Listen to music or sew. Or do both at the same time.

21. eating habits like? She can eat anyone out of house and home.

22. special interests? Like it was mentioned before, sewing, singing, and dancing are her big 3.

23. favourite part of their body? Her lips.

24. role model? LaDonna Adrian Gaines, aka Donna Summer.

25. most prized possession? Her grandma’s sewing machine. It was gifted to her before she died.

26. favourite place to travel to? Saint Marc, Haiti.

27. way to earn money? She works at The Dot with Spinner in her teen years.

28. thoughts about politics? I’ve never really thought about it, but I’d say she’s pretty left-leaning.

29. favourite colour? Any variation of purple or pink.

30. ideal partner? Someone who’s attentive (a bit ironic, right?), someone who can look past her flaws, someone accepts her for who she is.

31. party trick? She can invert her elbows.

32. favourite song? “Bad Girls” — Donna Summer

33. biggest pet peeve? Someone who doesn’t listen to her.

34. favourite person? Besides herself, probably Sean.

35. biggest goal in life? To become famous.

36. highest academic degree? High school diploma.

38. safe space? Her room or Sean’s room.

39. guilty pleasure? Eating chocolate.

40. favourite choice of drink? Cherry Coke.

41. dream job? Becoming a singer.

42. favourite type of music? New Wave, R&B, Disco, 80s Alternative.

43. most distinctive features? Her eyes and lips.

44. favourite aesthetic? Frutiger Metro.

45. fashion style? Anything pink and girly.

46. favourite movie? Clueless, always.

#degrassi #oc: dee germain #teenage wasteland

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wishbrightdreams · 3 months

Text

Get To Know Me!

1. IF YOUR ENTIRE LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT TITLE WOULD BEST FIT?

* Dazed and confused lol. 🤣 (not smoking btw just the title describes my life haha)

2. WOULD YOU RATHER BE A FANTASTIC DANCER OR BE GREAT AT MATH?

* Definitely math. I’ve always struggled understanding math in school and it caused me a lot of frustration. I don’t need to be a math wizard, just being able to understand it is all I need!

3. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE COMEDY MOVIE?

* I love slapstick and potty humor. I don’t have a particular favourite comedy movie as I tend to lean towards animated movies instead of live action. But I guess if I had to choose I would choose The Minions, I love those guys!

4. ARE YOU MORE OF A CAT PERSON OR A DOG PERSON?

* definitely a dog person. My mom is super allergic to cats and my dad is allergic as well. (They are also allergic to dogs, but we managed to get a hypoallergenic dog which has helped with their allergies)

5. WHAT CELEBRITY WOULD YOU RATE AS A PERFECT 10?

* Tom Holland of course! Not just looks wise either, I’m in love with his personality. 😍 I love goofy, funny and nerdy hot guys like Tom Holland. If only he was a musician too. 🤤

6. WHAT’S THE CLOSEST THING TO REAL MAGIC?

* Manifestation! Technically that’s not magic, but whatever. I believe that we are all born with some type of psychic ability, we’re just not all awakened to it.

7. WHAT IS THE BEST AND WORST PURCHASES YOU’VE EVER MADE?

* Hmm, I’m not sure about this one. I often go by reviews because I have a tough time making up my mind about which thing I want to buy. I try to analyze each thing I buy to make sure I’m buying a good product haha.

8. IF IT WERE POSSIBLE TO COLONIZE MARS IN OUR LIFETIME, WOULD YOU GO? WHY OR WHY NOT?

* Heck no! Space is scary haha. Plus Earth needs help healing so I’d rather spend my time helping people here and devote my time to bettering the planet we currently live on. Now that being said, if I lived in a reality like in the movie Interstellar I would go because it’s our only option to survive haha.

9. WHAT IS YOUR DREAM VACATION ON YOUR BUCKET LIST?

* Japan for sure! It’s been my dream to travel to Japan since I was a pre-teen. And not just because of anime haha. I’d also love to visit Europe and the United Kingdom where my ancestors are from.

10. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL AS A STUDENT?

* I took singing vocal class in high school which I really enjoyed, but I had to drop it in my second half of high school due to my mental health which sucked. I also really enjoyed communications class!

11. IF YOU COULD LIVE IN A BOOK, TV SHOW, OR MOVIE, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

* This is a tough decision to make. I can’t decide on which one. I’d like to travel to different stories and experience life in them first before making a permanent decision.

12. HOW MANY SIBLINGS DO YOU HAVE?

* I have three half siblings, they are all about a decade older than me. I have two half brothers and one half sister. I don’t see them that often, only at Christmas time.

13. WHAT’S THE CRAZIEST THING YOU’VE EVER DONE?

* I’m not a very adventurous person, so I would have to say just meeting my spirit guides during a meditation and having my spiritual awakening?

14. IF YOU COULD MASTER ONE SKILL YOU DON’T HAVE RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

* Housekeeping and adulting stuff haha. As well as manifesting if you count that as a skill!

15. WHAT WORDS OF WISDOM WOULD YOU PASS ON TO YOUR CHILDHOOD SELF?

* Don’t be so hard on yourself, learn to love and accept your uniqueness and don’t worry about what others think of you. It’s also okay to feel emotions, don’t be ashamed of feeling sad or angry!

16. HOW WOULD YOU SURVIVE A ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE?

* I wouldn’t haha. I wouldn’t be able to survive in such a place. I don’t think I would want to anyway. I tend to get very affected by apocalyptic stories so I’m trying to distance myself from them more these days.

17. IF YOU COULD ABOLISH ONE PIECE OF MODERN TECHNOLOGY, WHAT WOULD IT BE AND WHY?

* Nuclear weapons! We don’t need them and they’re dangerous. Peace and love man!

18. WHAT IS YOUR GUILTY PLEASURE?

* Hmm… not sure I have a guilty pleasure. The thing that comes to my mind is comfort food that isn’t good for me, does that count?

19. WHAT WAS YOUR NICKNAME YOUR GRANDPARENTS USED TO CALL YOU?

* I don’t think they had nicknames for me, but my dad always calls me pumpkin.

20. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CLIMBED A TREE JUST FOR FUN?

* I don’t think I ever climbed a tree haha. I wasn’t an outdoorsy kid (by choice).

That’s all for now! I will post more later.

#get to know me #questions #answered #intro post #introductory post #pinned intro #introduction #introducing myself #hello tumblr #who am i #come say hi #spiritual awakening #spirituality #new age

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greyfix · 4 months

Text

Children

Title: Children

Ship: Keith Kogane/Lance McClain

Summary: Keith and Lance are children with the weight of the world on their shoulders. At only 16 and 17 years old these children were made Paladins of Voltron, Blades of Marmora, Saviors of the Universe. Those weren’t titles meant for children.

Word Count:6.1k

Requested By: n/a

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Fluff, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Pining Lance, Lance is a mess, Insecure lance, Galra Keith, Keith is bad at feelings, Keith is a mess, Blade of Marmora Keith, Blade of Marmora, Naxzela, pining keith.

Author’s Note: listen, i know i never write anymore. But, shit happens you know?

I’m taking requests and commissions again though so hopefully that will change, i have menus posted on my linktree. You can Instagram message me ( @greyfixx ) or email me ([email protected]) and i’d be happy to write your stories. Thanks guys!

Ao3, Tumblr

Lance wanders the castleship often now. He spends much more time walking around aimlessly than doing anything productive that’s for sure. Hunk and Pidge seemed as though they were always making some revolutionary advances. Always inventing something or tweaking something. Lance could never keep up.

Allura seems as though she always has some diplomatic stuff to tend to with Shiro. If you asked Lance, he’d tell you that’s just an excuse so they can do whatever they do when they're alone. Plus, hanging out with Shiro is like, well it is, hanging out with your commanding officer. It’s hard for me to be comfortable. He would hang out with Coran sometimes, helping with some of the castle maintenance. It almost reminded him of being back home doing the chores. He never thought chores would be something he missed.

Still, when the lonely day was done, he had to return to the cold sterile room. It was so lifeless. Despite the trinkets he’d collected from his travels strewn around the room, the lived in clutter, it still didn’t feel like his room, no matter how hard he tried. Pictures weren’t as prominent in space, he’d noticed, at least not hard copies or for decoration in general. I guess they went completely digital a long time ago. So it wasn’t common for one to have photos of their family hung up around their homes. He wonders if people keep photos of their families outside of earth, or if it isn’t something people generally care about? For Lance, who’d spent his whole life surrounded by his siblings, it was so terribly lonely. Almost like living in a hospital room that never had a visitor.

So he slept in his cold white bed with his thin sheets and flat pillows. He wore his thin pajamas and the unreasonably comfy castle bathrobe. This was his new normal. His new home. He’s always been so grateful for his family, the original one, and the new ones he had created along the way. That’s what made him so sad, that he had a whole family here and he still felt alone.

It wasn’t always like this. Lance suspected that they didn’t really have enough time to worry about it as things changed. Now, between battles, there is silence. What does the silence hold for the soldiers in the war? These are the thoughts that plagued Lance as he fell asleep.. There weren’t many sweet dreams on the other side of the unconscious curtain waiting for him.

This is how he had felt since Keith had left. On the outside they seemed to be all bitter arguments, competitive bravado, and rivalry. They both knew though, that on the inside, they were closer than anyone else on the team. And that was their business. Their banter was just that, banter. It only takes a little bit of care to see the flirting smiles and friendly wrestling through the veil. When the fighting is done and it’s time for the brains behind the scenes, Keith and Lance learned to stay out of the way. They weren’t geniuses, or commanders, or Royalty. This wasn’t their job.

Each evening he spends longing for the company he wishes he had. He wishes for just one night things could be back the way they were. He wishes that if he does have to be lonely, he shouldn’t have to be the only one. . He considers it. He also considers the embarrassment of it. Calling the Blade of Marmora Headquarters to talk to his friend because he misses him? They’ll laugh and hang up. Probably give Keith shit for it, and i don’t want to mess things up for him. We’re soldiers. We’re supposed to be doing more with our time than talking to our friends on secure military lines.

He accepts his fate.

Though it may be silent between battles, for those who are much more than soldiers it was time to make a lot of noise.. Building a good public image. Recruiting to the cause. Diplomacy, gaining allies. Creating a Coalition.. Coran had them traveling to a new planet each and every day putting on shows and meeting people. Selling Voltron.

It wasn’t a big deal in the beginning. Just a script reading here and there, and Lance always loved Drama as a kid, so he was more than happy to comply. It felt like filming a cheesy TV commercial, and it was fun. Over time, as the audience got larger and larger, Coran got more intense. Their characters became perverted versions of themselves. Lance was now “Loverboy Lance.” He was nothing but a good looking airhead. There wasn’t anything more to him than his ability to get laid everywhere he goes. Because that’s all it takes to be a Paladin of Voltron, apparently.

Coran had become increasingly erratic. He’s talking differently, and twitches everywhere he goes. He’s taking dangerous risks, not only with diplomacy but with their safety.

Lance was starting to believe that that’s who he was. Maybe he is the only one who hasn’t noticed yet. He isn’t anything but who they believe he is. Loverboy. What is a loverboy without love? Just a boy. Just a boy in a play. Just a boy with the weight of the world in his universe. Just a boy. Alone. In a hospital room.

When Lance realized that the pressure of being a part of this war drove Coran to believe he needed a brain worm to do the right thing or to be good enough. Coran, the purest being on this ship, resorted to drugs to be as good as everyone else. Lance knew he was lonely too. He wanted it to stop, because though he didn’t care too much about himself, he certainly cared about his family.

So Lance grew angry. He was so angry all the time that his family was diminished into nothing but comic book characters. His best friend is depicted as nothing other than comedic flatulence. Pidge rendered a fraud who uses fake words. They aren’t recognized as the amazing scientists they truly are. They should be. Keith. He made Keith all angry and lonely. Can’t he see, that’s not who Keith is.

Keith has raw power and talent. He’s the potential to do something amazing for the world. He’s an anomaly and he is so important. There is no one more important than him.

Lance is the one filled with anger and sadness and loneliness.

Keith is hopeful.

And things keep piling on. He is lonely. He is sad. He is angry. And Hope is gone.

Laying on his gurney in his cold hospital room, in his magical alien castle, Lance picked up his space tablet and dialed the space number for the secret space soldiers.

DIAL

Lance called the Blade of Marmora’s direct communications line.

“State your Business.” Spoke a dark gravelly voice.

“I’m Lance, Blue Paladin of Voltron. I’m calling to speak to Keith Kogane? The red Paladin of Voltron?” He was shaking. This is pathetic. How could he be doing this right now, there’s no way Keith would want to talk to him. He’s probably got a bunch of new muscle-y galra friends.

“Should I provide you with his direct communications line?”

Lance froze for a moment. Why wouldn’t he be able to call Keith? Why would the Blade stop him from communicating with his Paladins? That would be ridiculous. “Um yeah, yes please, that would be great, um, yeah.” He stammered out in rapid succession.

He rattles off a bunch of numbers and symbols that Lance makes sure to write down before speaking again. “Will that be all?”

“Um yes, thank you so–”

Beep.

He hung up on me!!

Once he got over the scandal that was the rudeness of what could only be referred to as the ‘galra receptionist,’ he sat in silence for a while. He stared at the string of numbers and symbols. “Keith’s Direct Communications line.” He doesn’t really know what stopped him from getting it before.

It wasn’t long before he typed the number into his tablet.

!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL

He hit the flashing dial button before he could talk himself out of it.. Inter-Galaxy phone calls didn’t have a dial tone like on earth. There’s a loading screen. If the person you’re calling hasn’t answered by the time the circle is filled, the signal will be canceled and the call will drop. Messages can be sent as well but it wasn’t customary to have your tablet on you at all times, as it would be with a phone on earth. It’s more like having an I-Pad instead of a phone. If you really wanted a response it was best to call.

The circle is barely filled in when the screen explodes in color. It was Keith. His brows furrowed and lips pursed for a moment, until his eyes widened and his teeth showed. He smiled. That wasn’t at all what Lance was expecting.

“Hey, Keith. It’s been a minute.” His voice wavers as he speaks.

“No shit! Is everything okay? You’ve never called before-” he started to look concerned again.

“No! No not at all…” He trailed off. He knew if he said this he would never hear the end of it, but he didn’t want to start the call on such a negative note. He went with what can be interpreted positively.. “I missed you man. It’s lonely around here when you’re gone.”

Keith laughed. When he caught Lance’s eyes and realized that he wasn’t smiling with him, his face dropped. “You don’t mean that?”

“Of course I do. Everyone here is so much smarter and more important than me. I hang around on my own most of the time.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the lone wolf. You’re usually a social butterfly.”

“Everyone’s so busy I don't want to bother them.”

“Well I haven't changed from my lonely ways, so you must annoy me like the butterfly you are.”

“...What?” Lance held back his laughter.

“Shut up.”

“The butterfly I am.” The smile seeped through and before he knew it the both of them had dissolved into hysterics.

“Shut up. I missed you too. I don’t exactly fit in here.”

Before Keith could get another ‘shut up’ out Lance teased,“Are you sure it isn’t just because you aren’t purple?”

“I’m pretty sure that was a little bit space racist.”

Lance gasped.

They talked for hours upon hours. They smiled and laughed until they felt their cheeks go raw and their abs get sore. They talked until their faces turned stoick and they had run out of good things to talk about. They talk until things get serious, and then they keep talking.

Keith tells Lance how he feels worthless because he has always been a prodigy at the things the BoM excel at. The things that Earth doesn’t hold as honor the way the Galra do. Now, he’s nothing special.

Lance tells Keith how he feels like he’s been deluding himself into thinking he belongs. He tells him how he doesn’t believe he’s a true Paladin, and that he’s probably just a placeholder for him or Allura. That the persona that the public has for him as ‘Loverboy’ is so entirely impossible because the only person he loves is so far away that he can’t even tell him that every day.

They talk about how lonely they are. And they promise each other that though things can never be perfect, they will always keep each other company.

However, as many hours as they wish they could spend together, everything comes to an end. Keith has private training early in the mornings and the Castleship will be landing in a different timezone. So for Lance, first thing in the morning is about 4 in the afternoon (If you think about earth time, measurements are fine and dandy in altean, but dates are hell.) and he has to go straight to a diplomatic dinner party.

They say their goodbyes, and part with smiles on their faces.

When Lance turns over on his bed, his pillow is wet until the morning. Or 4 O’Clock in the alien planet’s evening He wakes up sore from his hiccupping breaths and dry from the salt on his skin.

Keith on the other hand forces himself to fall asleep immediately. When he wakes up he throws himself into training. He doesn’t apologize to himself or anyone else for the extra bruises he cost that morning. Anyone who spoke to him was met with a scathing comment about their mother. Most stood clear of him that day.

That night was too good to be true.

They spend months in this circle of suffering. Each day they would spend in anticipation of the joy they would feel when they saw each other. By the time they are able to get on the phone, they can’t stop smiling.

The joy lasts for a while. For a few hours. But every night the call has to end. Every night they have to say goodbye again. Every night they come crashing down from their high. They are hit with the weight of the various crises and the pressure only increases with the added emotions. At the end of the call, they have to say goodbye. Every night.

And I can't even say I Love You.

For Lance, the worst part is that no one noticed. He spent his days finally in a better mood, and his friends weren’t phased. It was such a dramatic change, how could a friend not notice the smiles that had grown so scarce. How could they not notice the bags under his eyes were gone, and he was no longer covered in bruises from his early morning training bot sessions. He felt so much better yet to his friends it was as though nothing had changed. Or they didn’t care to notice.

The Blade of Marmora was absolutely baffled by Keith’s change. Though Keith was much better at hiding it, he had learned in his months spent with the Blade that Galra rely on their sense of smell for this kind of thing much more than they would rely on their interpretation of body language. Pheromones change and there is nothing you can do about it. The Galra use it to communicate, though generally in passing the smell is like hearing the hum of conversation in a large crowd.

He didn't notice it at first. He thought he was imagining the stares he could feel grazing the back of his neck. It took one of the other people in his training group giving him shit to realize it.

“You need to learn how to keep your scent under control..”

“... What?”

“You’re scent. We can all tell you’re excited or anticipating, or whatever, you don’t need to broadcast it, have a little control.”

“What do you mean by my scent? You’re sniffing me??”

“Dude what?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Ha ha very funny. Just keep it to yourself man.””

“Seriously, I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’m a little bit concerned because on earth we don’t exactly make a habit of smelling each other.””

“Earth?”

“Yeah? Haven’t you noticed I'm not exactly purple?”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn't realize you were from the middle of nowhere. I’ve never even heard of that country.”

“It’s a planet.”

Keith could tell that he is holding back his laughter now.

“The Empire hasn’t gotten as far as my planet yet, so I didn't know I was part galra until very recently.

“I don’t know if i’m the person to explain it to you, i don’t have the greatest understanding of it myself either.”

“Just tell me before someone else does.”

“I think it’s like pheromones? We can smell the hormones and the smell changes with your emotions.”

Keith sighed, before stalking back off to his room. This was the first time he contacted Lance during the day.

Keith: I just found out galra can sense pheromones.

Lance: You wut?

Keith: Apparently depending on our emotions we smell different.

Lance: Can you? Smell emotions?

Keith: I never thought about it. I definitely smell a lot more than humans can. One of the Blades told me that most galra learn to control it. Maybe humans don’t emit strong enough pheromones for me to smell.

Lance: Is it like, rude to have emotions?

Keith: I wouldn’t be surprised. Galra never seemed like a race of emotionally sensitive people.

There were invisible boundaries. To keep them from having too much hope, too much happiness. At first the boundary was just speaking to each other in general, because of course they couldn’t be happy together if they weren’t together.

Lance, evidently, broke that one. Keith wished it were never there in the first place.

Keith was the one to break the next boundary and Lance was overjoyed. He kept his tablet on him at all times, though he was careful not to let anyone see. He wanted to keep this to himself. Just for now.

Each time he got a message from Keith, he had to force himself to not smile. It was becoming a problem. At least for a while.

Soon, not only were the nights terrible, but the days became just as painful. The light drains out of the both of them as they no longer spend their days in excitement to speak to each other but in increasing agony over their distance. Their feelings for eachother grow larger and stronger. So strong that every moment they aren’t allowed to feel it hurts more.

They lose the time to talk. The war is becoming back to back battles once again. Manpower is needed more than ever so not only is Voltron busy, but so is the Blade. The Coalition is a lot, but there is only so much. It’s difficult to organize universe wide diplomatic meetings, even for Allura.

The lows that follow leaving each other bleed into the days when no time can be found to speak. They bleed into the days where all that can be spoken of us ugly. The days of war. Of death. Of sacrifice. The days where the fight for freedom goes on and the soldiers grow weary.

Still the same problems prevailed. Lance’s turmoil continued to go unnoticed. He continued to be invisible in his own home amongst his own family.

Keith longed for his family. For Lance. He wished he could be with them. He wished so hard that it was very apparent to anyone who had a sense of smell worth their salt knew. He was now considered a flight risk. This he scoffed at. As if I’d leave all of you to die just to go home. That’s the catch. His love for his family and his refusal to allow lives to be lost to an empire as vial as Zarkons. He won’t abandon the war, not even for his own happiness.

Then the day comes. There is a planet called Naxzela. It’s primarily a military outpost for the empire. If the Coalition is able to take and free Naxzela from Empire control, they will have gained control of a third of the Galran Empire.

The entire Coalition is gathered, doing their best to stop the Empire, around a planet called Naxzela. They fight with everything they have. Every second, someone dies. Every second a ship falls from the sky, not only on their side, but on the Coalition's side as well.

Voltron is on that planet. Keith’s family is on that planet. Lance is on that planet. Keith fights harder. Another ship drops from the sky. Another. Another. Another. Another.

Voltron returns. Alive. That’s the good news though, an when it comes to war, it never outweighs the bad. They come back with information. They say the planet had been habitable only because of Altean terraforming technology. Haggar had tapped into this technology and turned the planet into a bomb. The battleship is the detonator. Both the planet and the ship are protected by shields.

The whole Coalition opens fire.

Not a scratch.

“Maybe not with our weapons.”

Keith takes off, dodging the lasers he soars directly towards the battleship. If our weapons can’t take down the shields, we need something more. The full force of a Blade of Marmora fighter ship just might work.

If i don’t succeed we will all die. At least this way only one of us is gone. At least this way the pain will go away.

He didn’t close his eyes as he approached his death. He wasn’t afraid. He knew this was the right thing to do. He chose this, he would not shy away from it. So he looked right at the thin purple glow that would be the end of him. He stared and confronted his death. The veil blinked out of existence.

He jerked the ship away and went sailing just by the edge of the ship. He had stopped listening to the commotion on his audio comm. It was time to tune back in.

Lotor.

Lotor had saved his life.

After the battle, Keith finally was able to return to the Castleship. To return home. Immediately when he steps off his ship a force knocks into him and he nearly topples him over. It’s so warm. He can smell him. He really is home.

“You fucking idiot!” Anyone could tell that Lance is screaming, despite the fact that he’s muffled by Keith’s shoulder. “How dare you.”

Keith doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know which words to choose. He is so happy and so sad. So he is quiet.

He is quiet and so is Lance as they walk to the infirmary. They ignore the aftermath of the battle. They ignore the Paladins, the rebels, the Blades. They ignore anyone trying to get their attention. Hand in hand, they are the silence between the battles. Lance's eyes are soft when the pod closes. Keith is glad that is the last thing he sees before falling into a deep sleep.

It is three days before he leaves the pod. Lance waits there in the infirmary the whole time. Coran says that most of his injuries weren’t from the battle. There were minor bruises, sprains, even some fractures from weeks past littered across his body.

Lance waits for three days and he doesn’t say a word to anyone besides Coran when he’s questioning after Keith’s progress. Even then his speech is limited. This is when his family finally notices they’ve missed something.

Over these three days Lance practically moves in. One of the gurneys is claimed as his. The white floors are littered with the tissues he hasn’t bothered to pick up. The bowls and spoons he used for the occasional food goo have created a pile in the corner. There are five blankets. Two on Lance’s gurney (he’d always thought they were too thin) and three laying on the floor just by Keith’s pod. One to lay on, two to keep him warm when he sleeps on the cold white metal.

He spent a lot of time thinking, while he waited. He thought about a lot of things. Mainly how he almost lost Keith. He almost lost Keith before he was even able to tell him how he truly feels. He spent a lot of this time regretting. He regretted not telling him the most. They both knew. They knew their lives were on the line and they made that their reason to live in fear. They chose that as their reason to not take responsibility for themselves, their reason to run from their own feelings, their reason to punish themselves.

This is war. Lance realized. This is war, and I am brave enough to be fighting it. I should be allowed to love before I die.. Especially if I'm risking my life for theirs. To make sure they don’t have to. If I die out here I don't want to die in regret, never having lived my truth.

The fourth morning he laid awake on his blankets staring up at Keith. He didn’t look ill at all anymore. He must be almost completely healed by now, he looked just like the Keith that had left. Almost. He had grown taller, his hair had gotten longer. He joked about it being a mullet before, but now it was more than long enough to be braided. He wished he could, it was something he did for his sisters back home.

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the electronic schwooop of the pod-shield lowering. He doesn’t have time to get up on his feet before Keith is toppling down.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Lance says immediately, when Keith falls into his arms. He holds him tightly. It isn’t long before Keith does the same. They both know that Coran and Allura would have been alerted to Keith’s discharge from the pod and would be heading down to check on him. They took the time they had alone to hold onto each other.

“Is this real?” Keith asks, his voice is so meek. So thin and quiet.

“Yes, my love. This is real. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Keith melts into Lance's arms. “I’m home?”

“You’re home.”

They hear footsteps outside the infirmary door before they see anyone. They aren’t surprised to see the whole team walk in. They would all want to see Keith when he was better. Lance wasn’t the only one who had missed him. He was family.It would be wrong if they didn’t want to see him after the stunt he’d pulled either.

Shiro is the first to stalk into the room, with his big muscular body and his big powerful steps. “What the hell is going on here Lance? You’ve been uncollaborative and disrespectful for long enough. It ends now.” He shouts in his best commanding officer voice.

Keith flinches. Lance squeezes him for a moment, before standing up. “You lost your right to give me orders. If i’ve been ‘uncollaborative and disrespectful’ then it’s obviously been a long time since you’ve looked in a mirror. Especially when your reaction to seeing your brother for the first time in months fall out of a pod because he nearly killed himself.”

Shiro opens his mouth to speak only to be cut off. This time it is Coran.

“I think he’s right, Shiro.” His voice is tense and serious. This never happens. “Let the boy speak.”

Lance almost smiled. It seemed, recently, that Coran was the only one who truly cared. At the very least, he understood.

“Keith almost dies, and your reaction when he comes out of a pod, three days later probably still coming down from an adrenaline high not only from his near death experience but from the drugs that pod pumped him full of. Your brother comes home from zero contact and your reaction is to storm in and make demands?” Lance speaks to his family. He speaks to his family in a situation other than battle for the first time in weeks. Months. “You really think you’re the one who deserves answers?”

Lance kneels next to Keith once again. “You need food, water, and to relax.” His voice was soft now. “Do you want to go back to the bedrooms and wait for me there?”

Keith stands up. “I’m going to stay here. With you.” Same old Keith he sounds like. Only Lance could hear the slight quiver in his voice.

“Lance?” Hunk spoke, concerned, “Buddy, what’s going on? What are we missing?”

Lance almost laughed. It was a surprise to him. He hadn’t smiled without Keith in a long time. This wasn’t the context he wanted that to happen under. “What have I been doing?” He said decidedly.

Hunk looked confused.

“What do you mean by that?” Pidge.

“These last few months. What. Have. I Been. Doing>”

“The same as the rest of us.” Pidge spoke in that matter of fact way of hers.

“Yeah, you helped with the performances. You're loverboy Lance!”

“Exactly. I was Loverboy Lance. That explains so much.” Lance decides that they won’t ever realize on their own. He must open their eyes himself. He must be the one to hurt them. “When have you ever seen me do more than flirt with someone? When was the last time I went home with one, or brought one here? Hell, when was the last time I went on a date?”

Silence.

“I flirt. I sign autographs, I joke, and I tease. I have never been a player. I’ve never been Loverboy Lance, not in the way we showed the public. That’s not who I am. Just the same as any of you. Hunk, you are so much more than comedic flatulence, Pidge you aren’t a fraud you’re a genius and you know enough words to fill the script with that the audience will go home knowing how to turn their garbage disposal into a roomba. Allura, you’re your own Paladin, not Keith and there are so many amazing things about you that would make you just as interesting as Keith.

“Keith isn’t the Lone Wolf. He’s just lonely, he always has been. None of us ever pur in the effort to change that, so why would he in return?” Lance turned to Hunk. “You were my best friend, Hunk, and this hurts so much. It hurts so much to know that you can’t see me for who I really am. I look at all of you and see my family and then I wonder, where did you go?”

“I spent these last few months in Silence. I knew I wasn't good enough to keep up with you Pidge, Hunk. So I stayed away. I knew I would never live up to your expectations, Shiro, so I didn't bother with you either. I knew you didn’t want me around Allura, so I didn't stick around. I knew i would be left behind.

“Eventually I stopped speaking.”

Lance stopped then. He took a deep breath. “None of you noticed. My own family had made me feel as though I didn't belong, and so I stopped belonging. Of course you guys were so caught up in being amazing that you didn’t notice. That much I don't care about. This is what is important.

“How old are you, Pidge?”

“I’m fifteen, you know that.”

“Hunk?”

“17.”

“Back on earth, none of us would be considered an adult. We wouldn’t be allowed to go through the airport alone. We wouldn’t be allowed to buy alcohol. We wouldn’t be allowed to have an input in our government. We would be children.

“Here, on this ship, far away from our planet. We are war heros. We live in a castle that doubles as a spaceship, or a spaceship that doubles as a castle, and we are Paladins. We fight in battles on a larger scale than any one of our ancestors have ever fought in. We are soldiers.”

Lance could feel the tears streaming down his face. “More importantly though, we are children.”

Lance stalked out of the room.

Keith followed. Even when he’d caught up, Lance didn’t slow down. He was sobbing now. Just like he had each night when they ended their calls. This time, however, Keith was there. This time he could intertwine their fingers. “Lance.”

When they finally arrived at Lance's bedroom, hospital room, whichever you prefer it’s all the same to him,they both sat up on the bed. Keith held Lance as he cried. He cried and cried and cried and cried. They didn’t know how long they’d been there, but it didn’t truly matter. What did matter was that they were together. Between the sobs Keith could hear Lance mumble something just clearly enough to respond.

“I love you too.”

Lance looked up, those deep blue eyes so sad and so afraid, yet so full of hope. He looked intensely at Keith. “We are just children, I did mean what I said back there. We could die at any moment. I don’t want to let that stop us anymore.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I love you Keith, and I don't want to live my life in fear of losing you. I want to use the time we have. This war would last the rest of our lives, whether they end early or decades from now. Why should we waste it?”

Keith had never thought of it that way. He had let the thought of losing Lance consume him so deeply that he’d never thought of how it might feel to have him fully. “You’re right.”

“I want to be with you. At this point I think it’s hurting us more to stay apart than it would to be together. Well I guess it’s hurting me, I can't really speak for you – Wait what did you say?”

“I said you’re right. We should take advantage of the time we have.”

Lance was speechless.

“If you leave your mouth open any longer you might catch flies. I told you you were right, don’t get used to it.”

Lance had been a man of words all night. He was sick of it. He grabbed onto Keith’s jawline and pulled his lips toward his own. He was so warm, like fire against his skin as they kissed. They’d been playing this game for so long. The kiss was the greatest thing Lance had ever experienced, or at least it felt like it in that moment. They kissed for a long time. Longer than they should.

It was Keith that finally broke the kiss. He only broke away for a moment, before burying his face in Lance’s shoulder.

“We have to talk about it, you know.”

“Not now. You make me so happy. I just want to be happy right now. It’s been so long since I've been happy.”

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to be happy. That’s our mission from now on. Happiness.”

They spent the night in Lance's room. They took their last opportunity to relax. After everything that has happened, not only over the course of the last few hours, but over the course of the last few days, weeks, months. They deserve peace, even if only for a moment.

The next morning they walked out to breakfast hand in hand. They had a calm conversation with their team. With their family. They spoke about how they felt so alone. They spoke about how they’ve spent so long being too afraid of death to love each other. They spoke about how they are so scared all the time, but never scared for themselves. They would all die for the cause at a moment’s notice, but they still feared the death of their friends and family.

Everyone shared how they felt, not only Lance and Keith. Pidge shared how scared she was. She was so young. Hunk shared how he felt so guilty for being the cowardly one, and wishes he could be brave like the rest of the Paladins. Allura tells them how she believes that she is only a Paladin because of her father, as though it was some sort of obligation. Shiro expressed that he was so afraid he wasn’t qualified to be the leather of a universal revolution. Coran worries he isn’t useful.

They all feel so alone. So isolated that they couldn’t find comfort in their own family.

They came to an understanding. Allura and Shiro, and Coran realized they were wrong for putting so much pressure on a bunch of teenagers that didn’t know what they were getting into. Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge all realized that they didn’t have to pretend to be braver than they were.

Especially because they were the bravest in the universe.

Even war heroes are allowed to have a weakness.

Especially if they’re children.

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