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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 299: No Chains Left

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “and then AFO broke out all of the inmates from six other prisons and took a nap. well anyways, here’s the hospital angst.” Kacchan woke up two days later and was all, “WAIT BUT HOW ARE DEKU AND TODOROKI AND ALL OF THE OTHER CHARACTERS EXCEPT IIDA DOING” and then we cut to Shouto’s room where the other U.A. kids were sitting around being Mutually Traumatized and giving each other moral support and such. Everyone was alll, “...”, and then the rest of the Todofam showed up, INCLUDING POSSIBLY REI?! which, omg. The chapter ended with Kacchan STOMPING THROUGH THE HALLS all “WHADDYA MEAN DEKU HASN’T WOKEN UP YET”, dragging along Satou and Mineta behind him, fueled by the power of ALL OF THE FUCKS HE NOW GIVES. He gives so many fucks now you guys. This boy cares so much he can probably deduct it on his taxes.

Today on BnHA: SPEAKING OF PEOPLE WHO GIVE A LOT OF FUCKS, the story cuts abruptly to Hawks, freshly recovering from his near-death experience, and pondering the threads that have weaved the tapestry of his life and led him to this moment. Basically he grew up in poverty with his Jerk Dad and Jerk Mom until his dad got arrested one day and his mom sent him off to go Find Money Or Something, and so he rescued a busload of people and found himself a new career. Back in the present day, Hawks and Jeanist ride around town in Jeanist’s Jamborghini having awkward encounters with civilians in a country on the brink of social collapse, and visiting Hawks’s mother’s home. Hawks is all “I know from an outsider’s perspective it must look like my life currently sucks, but now that the HPSC is gone, my public image is shot, and my parents are finally out of my life, I’m actually feeling SURPRISINGLY GOOD.” Anyway so he’s gonna go meet up with Endeavor now, and p.s. this chapter was fucking fantastic though, damn.

oh my god?? is this Hawks narration?? something about him growing up watching the heroes on TV and thinking of them as fictional characters

okay I scrolled down a little bit more to see the rest of that “Keigo” panel, and wow

this is basically a shed. poor boy definitely grew up rough. let me tell you guys, I came in here ready for some BakuDeku shenanigans; I was not prepared for Hawks Flashback Angst. I AM HERE FOR IT, but also wow I gotta brace myself now lol

HELLO MISTER HAWKS’S JERK DAD, SIR

BnHA sure does have an array of Jerk Dads, doesn’t it. makes me appreciate characters like Masaru and JirouDad all the more for bucking the trend

anyway. so Horikoshi, you really thought that one itty bitty chapter of hospital catharsis would be enough to calm us all before you went right back to showing us child abuse huh. my god man can we rest

BABY HAWKS

swear to god this kid can’t be more than five or six, and yet he has this completely blank look on his face even with his dad looming over him being all threatening and shit. like he’s shut down his emotions to protect himself. imagine what has to happen to a child for him to have learned this at such a young age. fuck

AND MEANWHILE THIS GUY

don’t mingle with humans?? not “other” humans, just humans?? what is this implying here?? and also holy shit Hawks definitely didn’t inherit his looks from his dad orz

then again he doesn’t really bear much of a resemblance to his strung-out mom here either

omg omg omg. and this child is basically trapped here in this environment with these two people. this explains a SHITLOAD about Hawks’s personality though you guys. his ability to completely separate his real thoughts from the face he presents to the outside world. his pragmatic approach to analyzing and solving problems. his layers of emotional walls. turns out almost none of that came from the HPSC training -- that was all learned hands-on in his own personal do-or-die survival nightmare childhood!! oh, boy

and small wonder then that he latched on to Endeavor so strongly if he really is the one who brought down his dad and inadvertently saved him from this. also, just putting this out there, I know people are always talking about him and Dabi being foils, and I think it’s very interesting how Touya grew up in a household where he saw firsthand the dark side of hero society, and so ended up becoming a villain in order to bring it down. whereas young Keigo had almost the exact opposite experience, growing up experiencing the dark side of villain society and becoming a hero in order to bring about a world where no one else has to experience that. just. both of them are so determined not to become their fathers. some interesting parallels there

so Hawks was sort of an accident after his parents had “thanks for helping me not get caught after I killed that guy” sex, and now this little boy is growing up in squalor and being beaten by his father for things like Sitting In The Wrong Out-Of-The-Way Corner Trying Not To Be A Bother To Anybody. holy fuck. this is so rough to read through you guys

wait so does Jerk Dad have a an eyeball manipulation quirk?? because he doesn’t have the wings like his son, but wth are these things??

this presumably also means that Keigo has never been to school or anything either. he basically doesn’t exist. he thinks heroes are fictional characters, he doesn’t realize that they’re real people. these are people who could help him if he could escape and find them, but he doesn’t know, and they don’t know about him

OH MY GOD HE’S JUST SITTING IN HIS CORNER HUGGLING HIS ENDEAVOR PLUSH OH MY GOD

how could this child possibly have an anti-fandom when he’s done NOTHING WRONG HIS ENTIRE LIFE. huh. just explain that to me. lol I mean I’m not looking to pick a fight with anyone, but also, MAYBE I AM, idk?? this kid has gotten me all riled up lmao

anyways, Protect Keigo 2021, and thank you Horikoshi for these three very terrible pages. I am pleased to inform you that you’ve effectively gotten your point across and you may now commence saving this kid already

YAY

oh no, Keigo’s dumbass jerk dad tried to steal a car and the popo nabbed his ass and now his mom can’t just sit around neglecting her VERY YOUNG SON all day long, oh horrors. sorry lady my tiny violin is on backorder. just imagine that I’m playing a very sarcastic song on it for you

anyway so what are you gonna do now, abandon him? I can hardly imagine he’d be worse off, if anything it might be a near-instant improvement

LMAO HE’S ALL “WAIT WHAT ENDEAVOR’S A REAL FUCKING DUDE?!”

AND THEY SAY THAT A HERO CAN SAVE US~~~~ I’M NOT GONNA STAND HERE AND WAAAAAIT~~~~~ I’LL HOLD ONTO THE WINGS OF THE EAGLES, WATCH AS WE ALL FLY AWAAAAAAY~~~~

lol what a randomly pivotal moment in his young life. TIME TO GO MAKE THESE MEMES INTO DREAMS YOUNG ONE

anyway so his mom freaked out and grabbed him and they wound up at a train station with her TELLING HIM TO GO GET HER SOME MONEY, oh my god. SURE MOM LEMME JUST WALTZ RIGHT ON DOWN TO THE “JOBS FOR FIVE-YEAR-OLDS” STORE AND TELL THEM I NEED SOME CASH. ffff manifesting someone to come help him in 3... 2...

...

SIGH, JUST GO RESCUE THE PEOPLE FROM THE BUS, KEIGO. is this the outfit he was wearing when that happened?? it must be, right?? I can’t imagine them surviving more than a couple days out here unless this starts getting REALLY dark in a way I know that even Horikoshi won’t explore, so yeah. cut to the HPSC now please. never thought we’d be glad to see them. I mean sure, it may be an “out of the frying pan...” case, but good god

THANK YOU!!

and I guess it was his mom’s eyeball quirk then. anyway, whatever, see you again never, hopefully. lol oh man. thaaaat, was upsetting. need to center myself here for a sec. NAMASTE

OH YAY THE PRESENT

so we cut from Baby Hawks Angst straight to Present Day Hawks Angst, huh. not that this exhausted and traumatized lil lad isn’t still a baby to me too, I’ll have you know

BEST JEANIST, ALWAYS WITH THE JOKES

“WHEW, THOUGHT YOU DIED ON ME FOR A SEC THERE KID.” lmao. Caleb will no doubt ruin this by making his word choice all stiffly formal as usual, so I’m just going to treasure this “WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, I’M FRESH OUT OF FUCKS” version of Jeanist while I can

look at him, driving his Jeanistmobile

again, is it any wonder Kacchan was bitching about Endeavor’s dinky little car when he was used to riding around town in style like this. anyone else staring at this panel trying to figure out how this car is somehow secretly made of jeans

NOOOOO

FUCK YOU DABI LMAO. PUTTING THESE VOICE ACTORS OUT OF A JOB ONE BY ONE

anyway so Jeanist is all “GOOD THING IT’S THE FUTURE AND WE’RE SO GOOD AT MEDICAL SCIENCE” to handwave how Hawks went from one step shy of being a very handsome corpse, to sitting around texting Jeanist in a car all of two days later

OH MY GOD, AND FINALLY AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS

wait a minute. I’m so confused lmfao. soooo, was Hawks all “anyway, here’s Jeanist’s dead body, you can examine it but please don’t look at him too closely and also I’m gonna need that back unharmed.” how tf did you pull that off lmao

(ETA: also isn’t this technically confirmation of the ol’ Noumu Jeanist theory lol. I’m gonna go ahead and say it is.)

NO BUT PLEASE, CONTINUE. I unironically love reading Horikoshi’s overly convoluted “SEE IT’S NOT A PLOT HOLE” explanations

lkldslfk so wait, you’re telling me Hawks convinced Dabi and the League to put Jeanist’s body in storage, and basically just hoped they wouldn’t use him for any experiments until he could put his plan into action and have the HPSC’s people break in and find and revive him?? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG. A FOOLPROOF PLAN IF I’VE EVER HEARD ONE

fff this man really asked Jeanist to risk it all to prop up his little cover story, and Jeanist was all “sure why not” omfg. anyways, thanks for recapping all of this out loud for no particular reason in your car conversation you two

LMAO NOW WHAT

TROUBLE YOU SAY? GOOD THING THE NEW NUMBER ONE HERO IS ON THE JOB THEN

okay no it’s just some random thugs strolling around terrorizing the downtown. fuck ‘em. so Jeanist is making short work of them now

uh oh

won’t come? not can’t, but won’t?? what???

WOW

well I guess that makes the local heroes A BUNCH OF SHITHEADS now doesn’t it?? jesus

and okay, serious question, if the cops are spread too thin and the heroes have literally walked out on the job, what exactly is stopping everyone from deciding to use their quirks to defend themselves, legal or not? nothing, as far as I can tell. society just got a hell of a lot more chaotic

anyway so this is an interesting panel here

man, Dabi really did pull it off, didn’t he. well anyway so here’s that better world all of the villains were wanting, you guys! isn’t it so great?? everyone’s terrified and angry and losing hope and society is inches away from collapsing into total anarchy! but hey, at least we exposed the number one hero as a hypocrite

anyway so what are these guys up to

fucking hell, he’s visiting his mom. I really wasn’t prepared to commit this much emotional energy towards reading this chapter today. BUT VERY WELL, WE PRESS ON

?? wait she’s not there?

is this supposed to explain how Dabi knew who Hawks really was? except that there’s the little matter of how he even know where to find his mother in the first place. feels like we’re still missing something there, but oh well

OH MY GOD

RHA I TAKE BACK EVERY WORD I EVER SPOKE AGAINST YOU. YOU ARE A SCANLATION GROUP FILLED WITH ANGELS LMAO. I WILL TAKE THIS PANEL IN MY HANDS, AND TREASURE IT AND KEEP IT SAFE

ANYWAY, BECAUSE MY TIRED BIRD SON’S LIFE SUCKED SO MUCH ALREADY, IT TURNS OUT HE’S ACTUALLY PLEASED WITH THIS NEW TURN OF EVENTS LOL HOW ABOUT THAT

GOOD FOR YOU BBY. YOU GO OUT THERE AND BE YOUR OWN PERSON

and in all seriousness, I love that identity he chooses -- chooses, because it actually is him making a choice now, possibly for the very first time in his life -- is “guy who helps people”, though. it really is nothing short of miraculous that he held on to that kind of optimism and desire to do good even with everything he’s been through. there were so many times he could have chosen to turn his back on the world in retaliation for the way it treated him. but he didn’t!! and here he is now, finally free, and what he wants to do with the rest of his life now is simply to help others. anyway please excuse me for a moment, I need to go find some sort of basket or a big vase to put all of my fresh new Hawks Feels in, pardonne-moi

YEAH BOIIIIII

“FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS, MISTER JEANIST, WHERE DID YOU FIND YOUSELF THAT SWEETASS CAR.” hey, all I’m saying is if this boy’s wings really aren’t growing back, he’s gonna need to find himself a new means of transportation y’know?

oh my god you guys it’s a flashback to his mom buying him the Endeavor plushie when he was like two because, and I quote, ALL MIGHT WAS TOO EXPENSIVE

oh my god oh my god. my boy out here with a new lease on life finding hope in the darkest of times

wasn’t your throat supposed to be all fucked up lmao. Horikoshi was suddenly all “oh shit the VAs are gonna be pissed at me if I keep this up huh”

“that’s why Bubaigawara was such a great guy” motherfucker IT IS A TERRIBLE DAY FOR RAIN. FORECAST SAID NOTHING ABOUT THIS

:’)

yes ma’am. yes indeed. confirmed, I really will straight up fight some motherfuckers for this child. well not really, but YOU KEEP YOUR DISCOURSE OFF MY LAWN AND OUT OF MY BLOG YOU HEAR. THIS IS A HAWKS-FRIENDLY SPACE. WE RESPECT TAKAMI KEIGO IN THESE STREETS

and he’s saying (or is he thinking?? what a weirdly shaped speech bubble this is) that even if what Dabi said about the Todoroki household is true, “I’m not sure it’s the same now.” which happens to be ABSOLUTELY CORRECT. man this whole chapter really is all about saying “fuck the past” and moving forward and I am living for it

SON!!!!

“the first step is at my beginning” fklkjlk. what an iconic fucking line??

AND HIS WINGS!!!! THEY ACTUALLY ARE GROWING BACK AHHHHHHH. “PUT A RAINCHECK ON THAT CAR, JEANIST-SAN.” THE HAWKSMOBILE CAN WAIT, RIGHT NOW HE HAS TO GO INSERT HIMSELF BACK INTO THE TODODRAMA WHETHER THEY LIKE IT OR NOT

you guys. I came here ready for some BAKUDEKU HOSPITAL ANGST, and I got DIDDLY SHIT of that, and none of my other kids were even in this chapter, but!!! ASK ME IF I CARE LMAO omg. because bird son is hanging with his new best friend, and he’s out here Finding Himself and picking up the pieces and putting them back together stronger than ever because RESILIENCE HAS A NAME, AND IT’S SPELLED H-A-W-K-S, and you guys. profound, my love for this child. holy shit. hey google, play Silence by Marshmello

#bnha 299 #takami keigo #hawks (bnha)#best jeanist #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I found peace in your violence #can't tell me there's no point in trying #I'm at one #and I've been quiet for too long

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anxiousstark · 3 years

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The Aura Painter | DOB

Painter! Dylan x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 12K (12.057)

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, masturbation (mutual or solo), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), cum play, breeding kink, filthy tbh, some cliché romance scenes. This is my second time writing ‘smut’. But this is the first time writing something so long and so filthy, bear with me.

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve had in mind for so long. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed imagining it. And of course, writing it. If you do, please give it some love and share it. The biggest solo piece I’ve ever written!

BIG MASTERLIST | KO-FI

Words you must know for the fic:

Onism (n.) the awarness of how little of the world you will experience.

Heriaeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you canot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning. the grief of lost places of your past.

Elysian (adj.) beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

The droplets of rain fell against the glass, leaving a trail which I followed with my gaze. The glistening tear of water disappeared before I could place my finger against the window and imitate that I could command its movement.

The sky seemed to cry, turning a darker shade. Perhaps the sky had lost a lover or perhaps, the one they loved was far from its reach. I could not tell as I never experienced one of those stories.

The books I had to read as a child were those who would teach me how to act and think. But those I read on the confines of my room when everyone was sleeping were different. Those told the story of a beautiful lady who wished to be rescued by a gentleman. I would try not to squeal under my blanket, as that was something, a lady of a high position should not do.

I glanced at the sky again as it screamed, lightly swaying the trees outside while his droplets of tears wetted everything under itself.

"M'lady," I corrected my form, trying to look as straight as possible. Turning around, I glimpsed directly into a pair of green eyes that seemed to lose their brightness as the seasons passed. Those eyes used to be the brightest ones in this palace, but now they were almost colourless, decorated by a couple of wrinkles. "Your mother is asking for your presence at her table."

That was unusual. My mother was a sophisticated distant woman who liked to spend time on her own. Hence, she tried to escape from her responsibilities as a Queen while having breakfast by herself. She would relax outside in the gardens. A small white table filled with her preferred meals, and even if she sought to convince herself, and lie to me about her drink being just a mere juice, everyone knew it wasn't.

"Tell me, Harold," While walking through the corridors of the palace, I noticed once again the monotony. The clicking of my heels appeared to be the only sound, except the melody of the rain falling against hard surfaces. "Did the Queen seem mad?"

Harold tried not to chuckle, knowing that if my parents or any of my siblings were near, he would end up getting struck by executing such a natural gesture. "I must say that the Queen did not ask for the cello man to accompany her this morning with some music."

I gasped, glancing at him to discern if he was teasing me. Harold had been in our family for so many years. I dare to say that he was in this palace before anyone else.

"She must be quite mad, then." I bit my lower lip, trying to think what of the things I have done could have gotten her mad, and how she had discovered them. "Perhaps she found the romance novels hidden in my room?" I muttered to myself.

"M'lady," Harold opened the door to the great hall. "She preferred to eat her breakfast in here as it is raining cats and dogs outside." He whispered, letting me walk in first. I silently nodded my head, wandering closer to my mother, who was sitting on the farthest place even though she was on her own. "My Queen. The young Lady has arrived. If my services are required, I will be waiting outside to escort the young Lady back to her room."

I shivered as soon as Harold left the room, wishing he could have stayed with me. But of course, he did not deserve the wrath of my mother. While walking closer to her, my clicking heels seemed to resemble the countdown of a bomb that would explode shortly.

"Take a seat, my darling," She demanded as soon as I was close to her. I swallowed, swiftly grabbing the skirts of my dress. I sat down on the white chair in front of her. She coughed. "Someone quite similar to the young Lady of the palace has been seen on the street market." A newspaper was placed on top of the table, facing me.

I swallowed one more time. "Must be someone who resembles me." I attempted to sound confident. "I am afraid that happened on Friday, and I take piano, courtesy and manner classes that day."

"Tell me, darling," She faked a smile. Her dark brown eyes, studying my position and expressions. "May I ask how you knew this happened on Friday as the article does not say something like that?"

"I-." Her stare became even more intimidating. "Guessed?" I squinted my eyes, perceiving that she would raise her voice to inhuman levels.

"Nor did you only skip your classes, you also lied and went outside on your own." Her tone was sharp. "Hideous things could have happened to you. Do you know what this could mean to your brother's throne?" Of course, this was about my dear brother. "The sister of the future King of Onism does not follow the rules of the palace. Then, what should they expect from their new King?"

"I did not do anything inappropriate, mother." I sighed, shifting my gaze to look at her directly. "I did not get in trouble, and as you can perceive, I am all right."

She rolled her eyes, which surprised me as she always claimed for that gesture not being refined. "And books," She pointed to one of the chairs, where I noticed all my favourite romance novels resting upon it. She had found them.

"May at least have some privacy in the confines of my bedroom?" I was mad, but raising my voice to her would get me in even more trouble. "Those," I referred to the pile of books that were my most precious property. "Those are mine."

"Not anymore," She got up, grabbing one of them and examining the title. "Romance novels? When will you understand that nothing like this happens in real life?"

I felt a little strength going through my body. "That book, in particular, describes the love story of the author! It is a romance that happened to her in real life. It is not fiction."

"But that woman was not a princess, was she?" I shook my head as she waited for my answer. "However, you are one. Even if you do not have anything to do with the future throne of Onism, your brother does, and you must behave like a princess." She walked closer to the fireplace. My eyes widened, and I gasped loudly. "You are a woman and a princess. The only thing you must worry about is making your future husband happy while following his rules, even if you do not love him." She opened the book, her skinny finger ripping some of the pages, and in the process, shattering my heart. "You will get married to someone you do not love, just to unite two countries." She let the book slip from her fingers. Falling to the fire, and burning as much as my eyes were burning due to the tears. "Stop filling your head with stories that will never happen to you. You are dismissed."

I got up from the chair, slightly glancing at the pile of books. I knew they would end up in the fireplace, slowly burning. I bowed my head. "I apologize, mother." She made a gesture with her hand, instructing me to leave the great hall.

My head was down as I walked to the door, wishing to exit the room and rant to Harold. "Wait," The voice of my mother interrupted my walk. "Get prepared as in two hours a man will come to paint a portrait of you. We will send the portraits to different future Kings of other countries that have shown interest in courting you."

"Yes, mother." I could not argue.

As I came out of the room, I noticed Harold's gaze fixed on me. I shook my head, letting him accompany me to my chambers. While walking through the long corridors, I glanced outside the windows. I reminded myself that I would never dance under the rain with someone while we laugh and kiss. I will never be caressed with love. I will only be touched with the purpose of bringing an heir to someone. An heir that would have to live the same dull life as me.

Going inside my bedroom, Harold bowed his head while he walked away. However, three ladies that worked in the palace entered my room, ready to assist me. I could not even take a bath on my own, nor could I dress by myself as the three of them did it for me.

"The painter will be here soon, ma'am," Rosetta informed, deciding to stay in the room as a lady should not be alone in a room with a man who is not her beloved husband. "He is a painter from town, said to have a gift."

"Is he quite known?" I asked to continue the conversation as I did not want to be rude. Nonetheless, the image of my books burning was the only thing in my mind.

"He is known in town for doing amazing portraits in exchange for food and a place to live." My curiosity peaked at the comment. "Royals are quite interested in getting their portraits done by him. Though, he had denied their offers." I looked at her with confusion. "He does not want to be related to any royalty member." I nodded my head, understanding why he did not want that.

There were two knocks on the door, indicating that the painter was here. I was quite surprised as my mother wanted the portrait to be painted in my private chambers. "Please, come inside."

When the door opened, a tall man came inside. He was probably around 5' 10". Wide shoulders that were covered by dark brown clothes. It seemed to be his best attire. Even though you could see the cheap fabric, and how he had tried to cover some holes and get rid of some stains. He had tried to gel his hair back. At first, I thought his hair was black until a streak of light fell on him, and I discerned it was a little lighter than that.

His light brown eyes fell on me, and studying them in-depth, I noticed that they resembled to be hazel. He bowed his head. "Uhm, it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I am here to-."

I offered him a smile. "Welcome to the palace," I bowed my head a little, which seemed to surprise him. "Please, do not call me Princess. It is fine to call me Lady." I gestured to one of the chairs in my room. "Please take a seat. It must have been a bumpy ride to the palace."

While sitting down, he nodded his head. There was a big black binder between his hands. Noticing my gaze on it, he quickly opened it, showing different canvas. "I can make different types of portraits. I thought I should bring some examples for the Pri-, Lady to choose the one she fancies the most." He stretched his arm, providing his drawings for me to look at them.

"May I ask for your name, sir?" My eyes focused on his drawings, understanding why everyone wanted to get their portrait done by the young man.

"My family name is O'Brien, while my name is Dylan, my Lady."

I nodded my head while still focused on his magnificent paintings. However, one in particular seemed to grab my full attention. It was the portrait of an elder, who appeared to be looking deep into me. He was skinny, and by his clothes, I could tell he was poor. He was sitting on a chair, and I almost gasped when I discerned that he had a missing leg. His expression was warm, a gorgeous smile decorating his face. Though, you could see that he had missing teeth.

"Did you find any equivalent style to what you desire?" His soft voice snapped me from my thoughts.

"May I ask?" I turned the portrait around, giving it back. His eyes examined the elder he had drawn. "Why is he smiling, but there are shadows around him?" I had noticed that the elder was smiling. However, black and grey adumbrations were around his figure. Some resembled horrible monsters. Especially a grey shadow that resembled a demon, resting upon his head.

He chuckled. "Those are the ones people in town ask the most." He glanced at me. "I draw their exterior as they want other people to see them. But then, around them, I draw what I can perceive or what I learnt about them." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Sadly, this man passed away a couple of weeks ago due to a cold." He licked his bottom lip. "He had offered me a home for a couple of days, and of course, he had proposed food in exchange for a portrait. Those days, I learnt many things while listening to his stories. I noticed that the man was attempting to look happy for his sick wife, whom he loved with his entire soul."

I fidgeted on my seat. "What happened, then?" I curiously asked, making him grin.

"He was not happy. He was afraid of losing the love of his life because death had knocked a couple of times on their door." He glanced at the painting. "Their children had married to people in higher positions, ignoring the elderly couple and not helping them with medicines. He was 87 years old, working in the town market. He was selling vegetables that he was cultivating by himself." He decided to continue as he saw that I was expectant of knowing more. "He never lost the smile for anyone, even if people did not treat him right. And of course, when arriving at his house, he would maintain the smile for his wife."

"Then," I tried to hide my teary eyes. "Those dark shadows..."

"Those are the monsters he tried to hide, but that I got to meet. The fear of losing his wife, the frightening feeling of wanting to end his own life, the fear of not having money to pay for his wife medicines, and so much more."

"And what happened to them?" Rosetta coughed, indicating me to fix my posture, and I quickly did, which made him furrow his eyebrows.

"As I said, one of his biggest fears was that they did not have enough money to pay for his wife's medicines." He peeped at the ground for mere seconds. "She died in her sleep. Her body could not hold the pain anymore, and she faded away."

"What about the old man?"

He nodded his head, his gaze shifting to the portrait. "He passed away in his sleep too. There was a smile in his face."

I blinked, affected by the grievous story of those who had to fight to survive. "I want one of those!" Both Rosetta and Dylan looked at me with surprised expressions decorating their faces. "I would like one of those portraits."

"My Lady, I'm sorry to intervene on matters that I should not. But I do not think the Queen will like such a portrait to be sent to those who are interested in courting you." She was right.

"She will not look at the portrait. Harold will be the one sending them." I affirmed, knowing that my mother would not dirty her hands for anything.

"It could get the young man in trouble, my Lady."

I glance at the man, who was looking at Rosetta until his eyes met mine. "Yes," I smiled, even though I was upset. "You are right. Then," I studied a portrait, a simple one. "I would like this one." Dylan nodded his head.

"It would take a couple of days to finish it. But I will be staying in the palace for the time being." He informed. "Is there any time of the day where you prefer to spend your time just standing in front of me?" He blushed a little. "Just for the portrait, of course."

"Tuesdays and Fridays I must spend receiving 'Lady classes'. The rest of the days and hours, I will be in here." I sighed, offering him another smile. "Did they give you directions for the room where you will stay?" Nodding his head, he showed me a piece of paper with some important directions to places of the palace that he could visit. "Your bedroom is at the end of this corridor. You are lucky as it is empty, except for me and Harold's room." Of course, he had met Harold already. "I must warn you not to leave your room after 11 pm as there are guards everywhere." I got up from my chair. "Rosetta," I pointed at her. "She will bring every meal to your room. Do not hesitate if you need to ask them something. There are a bathroom and a study in your chambers."

Before he could answer, the door of my chambers opened. A broad man stumbled in with decisive steps, and fury adorning his face. I gulped, stepping back before I could hold myself.

The man threw a newspaper at me, hitting my chest. Glancing at the floor, I witnessed the same newspaper my mother had been holding a couple of minutes ago. "Again?" His voice was sharp. "Did you escape again to buy those stupid books?" I shook my head. "Oh, yes, you did. Mother told me." His boots sounded like thunders as he walked closer. "I do not desire to hear any rumour of how my sister is not acting like a lady." My brother Evans glared at me. "If my future in the throne is affected by your stupid imagination and ambitions, I swear I will do whatever I must do for you to learn your lesson."

"I am s-."

"Do not you dare speak back to me!" He screamed. His gaze shifted to Dylan, who was standing too, eyes widened and what seemed anger decorating his face. "Are you the painter?" He nodded his head. "Try to make her attractive in the portrait. Hopefully, some rich soon-to-be King from another country will want to marry her." He peered at me. "Luckily, he will know when a woman needs a genuine beating to act like a lady or a wife." Those were his final words as he left the room. I finally could breathe.

"Uhm," My legs shook, and I attempted to hide it. "As I said before if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, my Lady." He got up from his chair, clutching his paintings. "Is it all right to start with the portrait tomorrow morning?" I nodded my head, wishing him goodnight as he left my bedroom.

"Rosetta," Her hands were behind her back, respectfully. "Tell Harold that I demanded not to be disturbed tonight. Not even for dinner." She nodded her head, bowing and leaving me on my own.

I sighed, wandering closer to a full-body mirror that decorated one of my walls. The moment I feared the most was getting closer. I would marry someone whom I do not love. I would marry someone whose eyes would not hold back from gawking at other women. And with those thoughts in mind, I went to sleep.

The following day, I decided to have breakfast and lunch in my chambers, not wanting to face my mother or my older brother. I had convinced Harold to stay outside my room, wanting to be on my own with Dylan. I thought that I would feel more comfortable if I didn't have someone constantly checking my posture or warning me of what should not say. Moreover, I also believed that a painter needed his privacy to reflect his art on a canvas.

I was stunned toward the bright day outside. Looking out of the window, I saw my little siblings running around the garden as some servants followed them. They were probably making their job even more complicated. Alexander and Victoria were quite the troublemakers. However, I was thrilled for them as they would not have to follow such strict indications, as to the ones I had to obey.

"Are those your siblings, my Lady?" Scared by the prompt presence, I turned around. Dylan was standing there, holding a big canvas and a briefcase, which I assumed held his painting materials. "I apologize if I alarmed you. Harold permitted me to come inside."

I nodded my head. "Yes, they are twins." I offered him a smile as he grabbed a chair, placing it in front of me. I discerned that my back was resting against the wall, and I quickly moved to stand straight. "Oh, please, no." He extended his arm. "Would it be okay for you to go back to that position? The light was caressing the right side of your face. There was a beautiful contrast." I swallowed, nodding my head while resting my back against the wall. I heard him chuckle. "Please, do not worry. It is okay for you to blink, breathe or swallow. It is also okay for you to do light movements."

"May I talk?"

"I am not great at holding conversations, but I will try my best, my Lady." He placed the blank canvas on the easel. His hands worked fast while taking out his painting material from the briefcase. "If it is not rude," He swallowed, probably questioning himself if it was okay to continue speaking. "I have noticed some books lying under the bed," I glance at my bed. Noticing that some books could be seen, which meant he was good at observing and that I did not hide my books correctly. "What books do you read?"

"Well," I gulped. "I read books about manners a lady should have in front of males and for the table. I study geography too as I must know the rest of countries for future alliances, and-."

"I apologize, my Lady." He wetted his brush. "Perhaps I formed the question wrongly. I wanted to know which books you enjoy."

My mouth opened as no one has ever asked me such a question. "You will think I am a typical young girl."

"Cannot think like that, my Lady." He mixed some colours. His painting brush, caressing the canvas delicately. "You are not a typical young girl. You are the Princess of Onism." Though those words shattered my heart, he was right. I would never be a 'normal' girl as my life was nothing like the one of an ordinary lady. "However," He continued. "When you paint someone, you get to comprehend them deeply. I believe I might discover that you are an ordinary human at heart. Something beautiful that would separate you from cold-hearted royalty." I was surprised by his words as people would not dare to talk of royalty like that.

I offered him a smile. "You might." He got distracted for a couple of seconds. His eyes navigated from the canvas to me, trying to retain my features and the folds of my clothes. "Romance." I was flustered. "I do truly enjoy romance."

"I presume something you will experience as soon as these portraits are sent."

I shook my head. "Something I presume I will never experience." His eyebrows furrowed once again. "Royalty men have the right to choose whom they will marry, even if they do not love them. Women will have to accept whomever their parents choose for her." My gaze shifted to the window for a couple of seconds. "It is my destiny."

He stopped painting for mere seconds, staring at me while slowly blinking. "Destiny can be changed." I shook my head. "It can," He nodded his head. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." He grinned. "That is something my father used to say."

"Used?"

"He passed away." He gritted his teeth. "He was a great painter too. Better than me." To my curious gaze, he decided to continue. "My mother left when I was a baby. She fell in love with a younger man, leaving my dad and me." He gulped. "Therefore, I would not dare to say that I have seen love as my mother left without looking back."

"H-Have you experience love, sir?"

"Please, call me Dylan, my Lady." There was a comfortable silence between us as he seemed to be concentrating on the portrait. "Not sure I did. Love is not what is shown in books. Nonetheless, I would like it to be like that."

"I cannot agree or disagree." I offered a sad smile, trying to hide my tears. "May we take a rest?"

He glanced at the clock hanging on my wall, nodding his head. "I apologize, time went by so fast." He cleaned and placed his paints inside his briefcase. "Good night, my Lady." I bowed back to him as he closed the door.

I waited for a couple of minutes, opening the door and seeing Rosetta waiting there. "Where is Harold?" I glance around, hoping to see the grey-haired man.

"He had to take care of some issues." She replied, looking nervous. "Do you need anything, my Lady?"

I quickly nodded my head. "I expect no dinner today, and I demand to be left alone." She furrowed her eyebrows, and before she could speak back, I stopped her. "I would like to take my nightly bath on my own, please." She nodded her head, walking away after wishing me a good night.

I closed the door of my chambers, quickly locking it as I rapidly walked into my bathroom, doing the same thing to the door. Walking closer to the bath, I turned on the faucet. I checked the temperature of the water until it was lukewarm.

I sighed as my hands went to my back, untying my dress. As the clothes fell to the ground in a surprisingly elegant manner, I appreciated not being forced to wear a corset. My legs shook as I placed one inside the water until I was sitting down.

I have read in books how a woman and a man would fall in love. A passion that they could not resist. An absolute passion that would make their hands wander through their bodies, wanting to feel each other as close as possible. I have read it so many times that I could lie to my head, making it think that I have experienced something like that.

I have read the way hands seem to burn on the skin, and how breathing becomes more arduous. And how after being pleasured, you need it over, and over again.

I sighed, feeling my nipples hardening, and I learnt they could do so even if the temperature was not cold. My left hand gripped the edge of the bathtub as the right hand rested on my chest. I decided it was time to move it, and closing my eyes, I left it to wander down while grazing my nipples.

When my fingers caressed my tummy, they seemed to become shy. Not used to the places they were descending. I have read books, but I have never experienced the feeling, which made me feel curious.

I tried to remember all the books. My fingers ended up placed on top of my bundle of nerves, and just the mere touch made me shiver from excitement. I slowly moved them in circles, adding more pressure, little by little. The temperature down there seemed to get warmer to the point where it burned. I could not avoid the need to move my fingers faster.

My left hand continued to grip the edge of the bathtub, but this time harder as my mouth opened and my vision became blurry. I felt this strange sensation. I felt like I was going to urinate inside the warm water, and even though I felt quite disgusted by the thought, I could not stop my fingers. They moved in circles, faster and adding much more pressure.

And it came. A rush of pleasure came over my body, and I could not hold back the moans escaping my mouth as I peeped down between my legs. My intimate parts turned red due to temperature and agitation. Then, I regarded the water near it, looking less transparent. So that was it. That is what a woman felt after pleasuring herself.

Curiosity invaded me even more, and I wanted to experience more further.

A couple of days had gone by, and the portrait was already looking amazingly good. I did not have any doubt of Dylan's talent as I have seen some of his works.

"Has anyone shown you around?" We had got a little closer as we spent many hours together for the portrait. He shook his head, taking off his dark green beret, and resting it on a nearer seat as he proceeded to mix some colours. "Would you like to see the gardens and the horses?"

His eyes widened. "Horses, my Lady?" I chuckled at his expression, nodding my head.

"Eight to be exact." His eyes widened even more. I remembered everything he had told me about himself, especially his love for horses. "We could take a rest. I feel dizzy from the smell of paint." He promptly nodded his head, halting and resting his brush on top of an antique plate stuffed with remains of paint.

Strolling through the gardens, I peered at him. He seemed content, having the chance to smell the fresh air mingled with the scent of the white roses that decorated our gardens. "White roses are your favourites." He had surprised me while retrieving such a simple, but a unique fact about me.

I nodded my head. "I prefer them over red roses. Those are overrated." He laughed, making my heart beat loudly. Dylan was an attractive man, and these past days I could not stop my body and my heart from reacting as soon as my gaze met his. "The stables are over there." I pointed to a couple of meters away from us. I extracted my arm as I felt something falling on it. "Oh, it seems like it will start drizzling." We walked faster to the stables, almost running as the rain appeared to fall swiftly upon our clothes. "You will adore Arden. He is my hor-." I was interrupted as I saw two bodies stirring frantically against each other. Their moans, invading the stables. "Wh-." A hand covered my mouth while another dragged me off the stables. Dylan and I ran under the rain, getting as far as possible from the horses' house.

Both of us gawked at each other in astonishment. "Maybe my eyes deceived me. However, I believe that was Harold?" He seemed as shocked as me.

"They did not trick you." I gulped. "May I add that woman was my mother?"

His eyes widened even more. "T-The Queen?" I nodded my head. "I am so sorry, my Lady."

"I am not angered by the fact she was committing adultery! I know my father is no saint." I gritted my teeth. "I am mad by the fact she lives a miserable life. In which she had to marry a man she does not love, and she wants to impose the same duty on me!" My hands reached my hair, fingers clutching it. "It is not fair for her to desire the same dull and cruel life for me!" Dylan kept quiet, allowing me to rant. "Why must not I experience falling in love with someone? I crave to be touched by adoring hands, not dirty ones that will not care about my desires and will expect for an heir to be conceived." I sighed. "I ache to live that romance until the day I die." I let my posture fall, whining. "Why cannot I be kissed by someone truly interested in me? Why cannot I be touched by someone who desi-."

My speech was interrupted as Dylan's hands rested on my cheeks. His lips were tightly pressed against mine. I have read how a kiss was mostly controlled by the fight of tongues, aspiring to be the dominant one. But this was just a simplistic kiss.

"Oh my-." His eyes widened as my mouth fell open. "I apologize for my behaviour. I do not know what came over my mind for me to-." My hands were now covering his cheeks as I bought him closer. My lips were awkwardly pressed against his. He separated from me, blinking dumbfoundedly. "Close your eyes." I did. "Open your mouth a little, my Lady." His thumb drew my lower lip downwards. As he got closer, I felt his tongue stroking my bottom lip.

My hands were pushed against his chest as I gripped his white shirt between my fingers. One of his hands had to wander to my lower back as my legs shook. His tongue was now grinding against mine, and not knowing what to do, I mimicked his actions. My mouth instinctively melted against his.

"You will be the death of me, my Lady." He held me closer. His right hand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Literally."

The following day, I walked to the great hall, confident enough not to knock on the door before stepping inside. My mother seemed shocked to be interrupted by my presence, as she gripped the teacup tighter.

Harold wandered behind me, fear written all over his features as he had never seen me disrespecting my mother in such a way.

I gestured for the cello man to leave the room, which he quickly did, not even daring to glance at my mother. "How dare you to come inside in such a-."

"I will not get married." I interrupted her, something I have never done before. I had been informed by my brother that there was a powerful candidate for me to marry. A 52-year-old man. "I will not marry someone I do not love, and even less a 52-year-old King just for our countries to be at peace."

"You have no say on it."

"Mother, do you want me to live the same life as you?" I ventured to ask. "Do you want me to marry a man who will sleep with every servant or woman that crosses his way while my future children will have to suffer the consequences too? A boy that ought to follow the rules of a King until he becomes a tyrant. And a girl who ought to have to act as demanded. Merely for the young male of the family to be even more respected?"

"As I sai-."

"Will I be like you then, mother?" My lower lip trembled. "Will I be cold-hearted towards my children, towards my daughter? Will I have to submit her to the same shameful life as me?" I did not let Harold intervene. "Will I have to close my eyes to true love and consume my infatuation with the person I truly love in some dirty stable?" Both of them were shocked by my words. "You are preparing and forcing me to the life you both have. I do not want to hide from the public eye and keep the person I cherish a secret."

"If this is about that paint-."

"He has nothing to do with this." I did not appreciate the way she spoke about Dylan. "I have openly expressed my discomfort about marrying someone I do not love since I recollect. I understand romance books do not happen in real life. But love does, and marrying someone for my brother's throne is not love." I sighed. "It is not fair for us, women, to be treated like this while men are approached like that!"

She surprisingly glanced at me for a couple of seconds before her sober expression appeared once again. "Every King marries the women they choose. We cannot decide. Every King has bastard children." I had to remind myself that Alexander and Victoria were the children of one of our servants. "Even your brother is going to have a bastard child." I furrowed my eyebrows as it was the first time hearing that news. "Rosetta." A disgusted expression decorated my face.

"Well," I breathed deeply. "Destiny can be changed." I recited the same words Dylan had told me once. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." I glimpse at Harold. "I am tired of not being the sailor of my ship." I softened my voice. "Think about it, mother. I will do everything in my power to get out of here, even if it means dying in the process." For the first time in my life, my teary eyes were met with the glistening tears that invaded my mother's eyes. "I will be in my chambers. Please do not bother me at all."

When arriving to my bedroom, I did not expect to see Dylan waiting inside. I locked the door behind me as my eyes examined his entire body.

"Are you all right, my Lady?" He showed the briefcase he was squeezing between his fingers. "Rosetta told me to wait here for you. Since we could not continue with the portrait this morning, I assumed that perhaps, we could tonight."

"Let's escape together." My mouth seemed to move on its own. However, Dylan stared at me with complete confusion decorating his features.

"My Lady, I do not think I understand what you are trying to imply." He knew.

"I have told you before I do not plan on marrying someone whom I do not love." I walked to my bed, sitting down on the mattress. "It has been decided without letting me know that I will get married to the King of Hiraeth."

He glanced down at the floor for a couple of seconds to later shift his gaze on my direction. "Perhaps he is not only a noble because of his blood. Perhaps he is also noble at heart."

"It does not matter if he is noble at heart or not," I answered decisively. "He is a 52 year-old-man! And as I said before, someone I do not love!"

He sighed. "My Lady," Resting his briefcase on the floor, he pulled a chair to sit in front of me. Though, he maintained the distance. "If I am not wrong, you have never met this man before. You might end up fallin-."

"Do not dare to say that!" I got up from the bed, eyes flickering. "Please, do not be like the rest of those who live in this palace! The first time you came here, you told me I could change my fate." He swallowed, nodding his head. "That is what I am trying to do." My hands were squeezing the skirts of my dress. "Please."

"I cannot take you anywhere, my Lady. You are the Princess of Onism. Everyone in town knows the beauty you behold." He coughed while deeply looking into my eyes. "I do not know anyone that will keep the secret of you being in to-."

"You are not understanding me, Dylan." I tried to ignore the way his body shivered every time my tongue and lips worked together to create his name. "I know I told you that I have never experienced love." I bit my lower lip, taking a breath. "I only know what I have read in books." He nodded his head, waiting for me to continue. "But I understand my feelings. Even before the day we kissed under the rain, I was already attracted to you."

"Attraction is something that can be felt many-."

I stepped closer, making him glance up. "It was attraction, I admit." Both of my hands navigated towards my back. "But my heart beats madly, whenever you are near me, whenever I glance at you or when I think about you." He got up from his chair, slightly stepping back. "I am utterly sure that I am in love with a man who worries about me and my feelings. Someone who has been encouraging me and that has seen my fears."

"My Lady," He gulped. "I truly feel honoured to be inside your mind and heart. I will not lie as I do also feel the same towards you." When I moved closer, he prevented me. "But you are a Princess, and I am just a simple man who paints in exchange for food and a roof." He blinked fastly. "I cannot give you the life you might expect." He offered me a side-smile. "And of course, our relationship would not be approved by the King and Queen." His voice turned softer. "Neither by the soon-to-be King of Onism."

"I do not care!"

"But I do, my Lady." He breathed deeply. "I do not want you to live a life where people will insult and degrade you plainly because you married a penniless man, or because you did not obey the established rules of the members of the royalty."

"I already have that life, where I am discredited just because I am a woman." This time when I stepped closer, he did not back away. "I already have to follow settled rules for the sake of my brother." My hands were still behind my back, and I finally decided to let them untie. He did not notice yet. "But now I have found someone who makes me feel something I have never experienced before." I sighed. "What did you do to me, Dylan?" He opened his mouth. "My mind and heart are full of you, and they constantly demand my body to be filled by you too."

His neck and cheeks turned red as he seemed to have difficulties while swallowing his spit. His eyes shifted around the room, trying to decide what to do. "My Lady," He sighed in desperation. His hands travelling through his body while he clenched it and gritted his teeth. "I truly have been trying to hold back." His hands now grazed his face. "I have been trying to hide how in love I am with you as I am just someone who does not deserve you."

"You are the man who deserves me the most." The shoulders of my dress fell, displaying my bare skin. His eyes widened even more. "And you do not have to hold back anymore." Finally, the cloth fell onto the ground. "I have read so many things, but I have never thought of experiencing them." I felt embarrassed by revealing such a matter. "I could not hold my hands from exploring my body for the first time as your image was in my mind."

"You did?" I nodded my head. His eyes had never left mine, not even to peer at my underwear. A rush of confidence seemed to hasten through him as he walked to the door, securing it. "Show me." My expression must have confused him. "Show me how you did it."

It was my turn to gulp as I got on my mattress, lying down on my back. I was slightly sitting thanks to the pillow, which granted me to discern Dylan as he shuffled closer to the end of the bed.

My bralette was already off, but his eyes still fixed on mine. "You can look." As soon as those words came out of my mouth, his eyes glanced down at my chest. It seemed like he had complications breathing.

My hands gently travelled down, gripping the sides of my underwear and slowly bringing them down my legs. The chilly air was a contrast of temperature to my entire body. I shifted my legs to completely discard my panties, which ended up someplace on the ground.

I permitted my fingers to touch the bundle of nerves, suffering a chill through my body that reminded me of that time in the bathtub, or the following times where I could not restrain my needs. Rubbing on circles, my other hand went to my mouth, biting on it not to make any sound.

"That is how you did it?" I nodded my head. "Until you exploded?" Again, I acknowledged with my head. "My Lady. Has any man touch you in such a way?" Shaking my head, he offered me a smile. "May I be the first one to do so?" I nodded my head, which he did not seem to like. "Please, use your words."

"I do," I did not hesitate. "I do want to be touched by you, Dylan."

"I might die right now, my Lady." He wandered closer. His hands slowly discarded his dark blue beret. Then, his fingers rapidly unbuttoned his white shirt, which had some dark little stains due to his paintings. His body was fit, enough to make a woman drool. I must say, he seemed broader than what I have imagined. "Have you ever introduced your fingers inside?"

I shook my head.

I hear the sound of his shoes falling to the ground as he kneeled on the end of the bed. His right hand moved my left hand from my clit, leading it to his hair. "Hold on tight, my Lady." Not sure of his next actions, I shivered as his breath hit my heated core. His tongue peeked out from his mouth, gently grazing my centre.

I gripped his soft hair between my fingers, making his gaze shift to look deep into my eyes. His tongue lapped, adding pressure on my clit. I whined as his tender tongue left my core to slid down and up a couple of times, extending my wetness all over my intimate part.

I was utterly surprised when the tip of his tongue ended up inside me, and he seemed to noticed as he grounded it against my walls. His right hand slowly left my thigh, where his grip had been tough. "I will be gentle." His whispers were almost unnoticeable as my moans were louder, feeling one of his warm fingers getting coated by my juices as he introduced it, inside my vagina. "Does it feel good?" Without waiting for an answer, he started thrusting it. His lapping tongue and his thrusting finger, producing a drooling combination.

"Oh my god," The candles that were lit, and resting on the table next to my bed seemed to flatter by a scene hotter than their flames. "Faster, please." I must not lie. Introducing his second finger on me had provided a slight pain. But seconds later, it had been replaced by an unbelievable pleasure. "Please do not make me beg."

"I would like to see you beg, my Lady." His mouth had left my clit, chin dripping with my fluids. "I would love to see you beg under the light of the candles while no one else knows that you are getting the love and passion you deserve." His fingers made a wet sound when they left my insides. I could not help but whine as he got farther from my body but became expectant when his fingers played with his belt.

As soon as he slid his pants down his legs, I could not help but moan again. There was a bulge between his legs, and I could not help but get flustered thinking about having him inside me. However, I was quite worried about his size as he already seemed thick through his pants.

I remembered a scene from a book where this girl had her first experience with her childhood friend. They had become lovers and decided to consume their love on top of the counter of the protagonist's kitchen. Her description of the scene was incredibly detailed. And even though my body had become more heated while reading it, I could not help but be worried when she described the experience as feeling as if she was getting 'ripped', which was quite vulgar but exciting in an unusual way.

I had been distracted by my thoughts, as to when I realized my rounds, Dylan's member was finally free. It stood tall and thick against his stomach. He could not help but contain his grin as I gasped.

"I never-."

"I know, my Lady." His hands grabbed my ankles, calmly making their way to my thighs, which he squeezed while separating my legs even more. "I am utterly happy to be the first and only man to make love to you." Uh? "I will take care of you for the rest of my life." His eyes looked deep into mine, asking for permission for his next movements and actions. Of course, I nodded.

He grabbed his shaft, his hand circling it while he thrust into his clenched fist a couple of times. He left if free, spitting on his hand to later grab his member again, lubricating it.

"I am a little scared," I confessed, shifting my gaze to his face. "You are so thick and long. H-How is that supposed to fit inside-."

"We can stop if you want, my Lady." One of his thumbs caressed one of my thighs. "There is no rush and enough time to do this whenever you feel ready."

"I do want to do it! I am just a little scared." I gulped, glancing down at his member. "Could you maybe go slowly?"

He nodded his head, getting closer and placing a peck on my lips. "Whatever you wish for, my Lady." Asking for permission again, he waited until it was granted, for the tip of his member to graze the lips of my vagina. "Here I go." He started adding pressure. Until the entire tip was inside, making me gasp. "Sh, breathe." His right hand went to my tummy, caressing it. "We can go slower."

I nodded my head as I took deep breaths, ignoring the tears that were falling from the corner of my eyes. A couple of minutes went by when I decided that the pain had become a pleasure. I shifted my hips toward Dylan. I was right as there was only pleasure. "Dylan, please," I whined. "Please move."

His entire member was inside me, and Dylan's thrusts had become steady and swift. His mouth was travelling from my jaw to my lips, sometimes stopping to ask for my well-being.

One of his hands left my hips, going between our bodies as he started circling my clit, adding more pleasure. "Oh my gosh," I raised my voice, not being able to hold back the incredible feeling. "Lord, please go faster." I circled my legs around his hips, bringing him closer if it was possible. His member, hitting places that it could not reach before. Wails of satisfaction came out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me harder."

He seemed quite shocked by my choice of words as his eyes widened. But he had seemed to enjoy them too, as his thrusts became even faster and sloppier. "I will not last long." He groaned, not afraid of expressing his pleasure while his lips grazed my ear. "I have been dreaming of this for so long." His moans made my entire body shiver. His right hand, circling my clit even faster. "Please, my Lady. Tell me you are close. Please."

"I am!" I drowned my screams while biting his shoulder. "I am so close." His left hand travelled to my left nipple, toying with it. The different stimulations, getting me dizzy while my vision became blurry. And I came undone under Dylan's body.

Reading was nothing like experiencing it.

My breath was laborious. Dylan stayed inside, thrusting a couple of times more until he quickly came out, thrusting in his clenched fist. He was going to finish soon. His eyes, questioning where to explode. My hands went to my breasts, holding them together.

Dylan's eyes widened as he understood what I was implying. He moved, his hips getting closer as his dick ended up being embraced by my breasts. I held them in place while he thrust, moaning at the contact. His tip, hitting my chin and lower lip. He did not last much longer, exploding and cumming all over my chin and lower lip.

He gasped, our bodies full of sweat. "I made a mess. I am so sorry, my L-." My tongue peeked out of my mouth, licking some of the cum that was resting on my lower lip. "I-. Oh, gosh." His lips settled up against mine. His tongue, parting my lips so his tongue could slowly dance against mine. "Did it feel good?"

"It felt amazing." I was still trying to breathe at a regular pace.

He kissed my forehead, leaving the bed and wandering to the bathroom. His member was still lightly hard. But he quickly gave me the view of his butt.

When he came back, he was gripping a towel. Sitting on the side of the bed, he slowly cleaned his release from my chin and chest. Then, folding it, he cleaned between my legs. He was cautious, trying not to hurt me as my entire body was sensitive. Next, he discarded the towel.

His body fell on the bed next to mine. We both gazed into each other's eyes with foolish smiles decorating our faces. "I do not want to leave. But night curfew will be soon."

"I do not care." I wrapped my sore body against him, breathing in. "Stay here. Nobody will know. You can leave early in the morning." I did not notice I was pouting until his lips pecked mine. Then, the rest of the night was a cuddling blur as exhaustion took over our bodies.

Another couple of days had gone by, and it was nearly impossible to keep our hands for ourselves. Dylan had been sleeping in my chambers, which was difficult to hide. I had been ignoring my mother and Harold as much as possible. And thankfully, my brother was away in a political meeting with my father. We had also continued the portrait sessions, which sometimes ended with our bodies full of paint as we could not hold back for holding each other.

I must confess that there had been sexual escapes around the palace, which was a surprise, as we did not get caught yet. Momentarily, Dylan's boxers were around his ankles like his pants as I was grabbing the skirts of my dress.

My face and chest were pressed against the wall of a tiny room while he thrust in me from behind. "Ah, we will get caught." He whispered but did not stop his movements. "You are going to be the death of me, my Lady."

We had been walking around the castle until I could not hold back myself anymore. I took Dylan's hand, going inside a tiny room that, it is used, for cleaning materials. Therefore, we were fucking as fast as we could, aiming for a release. "Please, go deeper!"

"I believe I am as immersed as I can, my Lady." The sound of our skin slapping against each other turned both of us on even more.

We both were close to our release. But we were rudely interrupted by the door of the room opening, showing Rosetta and Harold, who stared at us with surprise written all over their faces.

Dylan quickly came out of me, pulling his boxers and pants up while I let the skirts of my dress fall.

"Harold," I started. "Please, do not say anything." My eyes begged. "Could you please give us five minutes and wait in my chambers?" Without saying anything, they closed the door. "Oh my god."

"It is okay, my Lady." Fear was visible in his face and voice.

I was baffled as when entering my chambers, my mother was there, next to Harold. He ignored my gaze, staring deep into Dylan's eyes.

"Mother-."

"I told you!" She did not hesitate to raise her voice. "I know you did not choose to be a princess, but this is what we have to deal with." I could not protest. "I am not trying to make you miserable. I was trying to avoid a situation like this where this young man," Surprisingly, she did not glare at the young man next to me, who was squeezing my hand. "And you will be in danger!" She sighed. "Imagine if it was your father or brother finding you two! They arrived early this morning!" I did not know about their arrival. "He would have killed him and make you watch." I gasped, getting teary. "I did not want you guys to end as I did."

"What?" I asked while being overwhelmed by confusion.

"Your mother," Harold decided to spoke as my mother had to seat on the end of my bed, trying to calm herself. "She fell in love with a servant of this palace, way before you were born." Dylan and I were pretty interested in the story. "You do not choose who you love, my Lady." He shifted his gaze between the two of us. "However, keeping such a secret was complicated. And eventually, someone found out." His hand rested on my mother's back. "Unfortunately, the one that discovered them passionately kissing in the gardens was your father." I gulped while swaying closer to Dylan, searching for his warmth. "He executed him right there, in front of your mother."

"Those white roses used to be red." My mother's voice shook while she referred to those planted in our garden. "It was so repulsive to see that his blood mattered nothing when for me mattered the world. He was my world." She offered us a sad smile. "No one mourned for his loss except me. His body was taken away by other servants in uncaring behaviour. His blood could not be seen, because it had splattered on the flowers that had the same tone." She wept, trying to breathe and calm herself to continue. "It was as if he had never existed. I thought I had gone crazy, and I had imagined the love and the man that I desired to have."

"Mother," My eyes were teary. "I am so sorry that happened to you, and now, I understand you tried to protect me." I glimpsed at Harold for a couple of seconds. "But this is just throwing me into a deeper hole. I will end up in a similar situation to yours, and my children will be doomed, to the same cruel fate." I was desperate. "Mother, destiny can be changed." Dylan was looking at me, a tiny smile on his face while he rubbed one of my freezing hands.

"I have seen you grow up," Harold intervened. "I have learnt every one of your moves, understanding when you wanted to cry or laugh." He grinned, crossing his arms. "Deep inside, I knew one day you would want to fight from the established and dull life you are supposed to live."

"He spoke to me." My mother continued. "Harold opened my eyes, and he taught me to perceive that you were falling in love with this young man." She bowed at Dylan, and he returned the same gesture. "And I perceived that this young man was falling in love with you too."

"Your father and brother lied of their whereabouts." Harold stepped closer. "They bought with them a visitor."

My mother shifted closer to us. "It is the King of Hiraeth." She gulped. "The 52 year-old-man that they expect to marry you with."

"No," I shook my head. "Please, mother." I could not stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. "Please, mother. Do not let them do that. Please. Please." Before I could fall to my knees, my mother held her hand up, offering me a brown bag.

"It is yours now." My mother replied, sliding the bag into my hands. "This will help both of you." Money, there was a lot of gold inside the bag. Dylan was looking inside the container with wide eyes as I did. "If I had stolen money from your father, he would have noticed. Therefore, I bargained my jewellery." Her hand unconsciously went to her neck, and I noticed her diamond necklace missing.

"Here," Harold extended his arm, offering us a piece of paper. Dylan clutched it. It was a map. "That black circle is your shared property. It is a near kingdom, not too far from here but enough for you two to be safe and not be recognized, as the Princess of Onism."

"What?" My mouth was agape.

"It is Elysian. It is a small town full of life, and it is secure." Harold explained with a smile. "It is your new home. The money will help you guys for a couple of years, but of course, my Lady, you will have to get used to a life without servants and luxuries. However, I do not have any doubt that you will be able to adapt to such a life."

"Then," I glanced at my mother. "You are helping me escape?"

"I am helping both of you leave." She cried. "I am helping you get out of the life you did not choose and the one you do not desire." I turned around to stare at Dylan, who had tears running down his cheeks while smiling at me. He shyly pecked my forehead. He wiped his tears while bowing again, staying in that position for a couple of seconds. "No, no, please stand up." He did. "We are family now. Please take care of my little girl."

"I will, your highness." His words sounded so confident that it made my heart beat violently.

"W-What about you two?" I glanced between them. "Are you coming with us?" I was expectant to hear their answer.

My mother shook her head. "We did change our destiny." She referred to the present situation. "Do not worry about us."

"But-."

"My Lady," Harold took me into his arms, embracing me. "Escaping is more complex for us. But do not worry, because we will end up getting away from here. One day, we will." He smiled at me. "For now, Arden is prepared to take you both far from Onism tonight."

I nodded my head. "Take care of my mother, and thank you for being like a father to me." After squeezing him, I quickly hugged my mother. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Before they left my room, my mum turned around. "Dylan is your name, right?" He nodded his head. "I viewed the portrait. It looks marvellous. Take it with you." He was perplexed. "The portrait was for the man that will marry her. That man is you, so that portrait belongs to you."

"I bought gifts!" I overheard two squeals, rolling my eyes with a foolish smile, adorning my features. Two tiny figures ran to the owner of the voice. "Perhaps you both only love me when I bring presents."

"Perhaps they do." I walked closer to the man, whose beautiful smile was aimed, at me. My right hand gripped his arm, a signal for him to lower his head so I could peck his lips. "Welcome home. I made your favourite dish." My lips had trapped his bottom one between mines for a couple of seconds, making him whine lowly.

He seemed to be dumbfounded while pecking my lips a couple of times until our children interrupted the moment with their excitement to know what their father had brought them. "Well," He chuckled. "I bought my little princess this!" He took a stuffed animal from his coffee-coloured bag. Charlotte squealed and giggled while running around the room with her new plaything. "And I bought my not-so-little prince," He remembered how our little boy did not want to be named as a child anymore. "This." He showed him a new brand book, which cover was of a dark blue with golden touches.

Thomas could not help but grin. "This book was printed a couple of days ago! Thank you so much, father!" He tightly hugged his dad. "Perhaps I could bring it with me to the Addington's home?" He could not help but jump around due to his excitement. "I believe Newt will love it too!"

Dylan nodded his head. "Take care fo your sister, please."

The Addington's were a young family of five that lived next door. We were constantly inviting each other over to our homes, wanting the kids to play together. We, the adults, were also mates. A couple of times, we babysit each other's kids to have privacy with our respective partners.

As soon as the kids were out of the door, Dylan's briefcase had fallen to the ground. He had been away for an entire week due to a commission of a portrait where he would earn a lot of money.

His hands were caressing my entire body as we both tried to make our way to our shared chamber, in hopes of continuing the passion there. "I have missed you so much, my Princess."

My fingers moved quickly, trying to untie the dress I was wearing. My hands were sweaty, and Dylan must have noticed as he ended up unlacing my attire. "I am not a Princess anymore."

He swallowed, eyes focused on my breasts as I was not wearing a bralette. Both of his warm hands slid up, cupping my bosom. His fingers grazed my nipples while his entire hands squeezed the rest. "You are right." His gaze shifted to my lips. "You are the queen of my heart now, my Lady." That name had stayed since the very beginning, and every time it came rolling gently out of his lips, my undergarments got drenched.

"I will explode right here, Dylan." I moaned as my hands were busy sliding down his pants while he worked on his jacket and shirt. "I have missed having you around. And being around you."

He groaned, slipping one of his hands behind my back as he squeezed my buttocks. I whined when he pinched it. "You seem to be so desperate for me."

"That smirk," I grinned while kissing his bottom lip. "Perhaps you are as desperate as me." I glanced down as I spotted his hard bulge against my front.

"I am not as needy as you are, my Lady." The last word was said sensually, making my legs shake.

"I am sure you are as needy as me, Sir." It was that word for him. I could feel the temperature of his body rising.

"What does my queen require from such a humble servant?" He acted while sprawling my body down on the bed. His hands, gripping the sides of my panties, bringing the down and discarding them. "Maybe she needs help down here?" One of his fingers ran up and down, collecting my fluids. He did not hesitate to bring that finger into his mouth, savouring it. "My Lady, perhaps I should confess that you taste like Heaven, itself."

His face leaned closer to my core, but I immediately stopped him. He glimpsed at me, confused. "I want to be the one giving you as much pleasure as possible." Sitting down on the bed, my hands pushed against his chest until he was the one lying on his back.

I questioned myself when he had taken his boxers off as his member sprang free, hitting his tummy. Pre-cum was decorating his pink tip while sometimes, you could see it palpitating as the veins were tightening.

My right hand started working immediately, grabbing his shaft while going up and down. I softly squeezed it as his arm rested on top of his forehead, blissfully. My thumb stayed on the tip, playing with the tiny drops of pre-cum.

"Gosh, are you an angel?" His words wavered as my left hand cupped his balls, lightly tugging on them. "My Lady, I need your mouth, please." I attended his demands, my left hand still playing with his balls.

However, my mouth was also sucking on the lowest part of his member. Licking my way up, my mouth embraced the tip of his dick. His hands went through my hair, settling on grasping it forcefully and guiding me down until his entire thick member was inside my mouth.

His moans got louder as his hips could not hold back, shifting upwards, choking me as his tip scraped the back of my throat. "My Lady." Glancing upwards, I could see the sweat falling down his forehead. His entire body was sweating, especially the part of his chest with a spot of hair.

I sucked harder, preventing my teeth from grazing his delicate member. "May I come inside your mouth, my Lady?" Humming against his dick, he seemed to understand my permission. A couple of hard thrusts that chocked me and he was cumming down my throat, spilling a big load. His breath was laborious as his hands caressed my hair back. "Please, ride me."

He whined when his member lost the warmth of my mouth as I shifted my body to position myself on top of him. My left hand was resting against his chest. My other hand, grabbing his still firm member. "May I?" He nodded his head. As soon as he was filling me up, both of us became a moaning mess. "Ah, I felt so empty without your dick inside me."

His hands instantly clutched my hips as he encouraged me to bounce on top him. "You look so ravishing while you bounce on my dick." I moaned, loving his dirty talk. "I could do this every day. I love how your breasts bounce while you are getting stretched by my dick." He gulped. "They have got even bigger after you had our beautiful children." His right hand slapped my ass. "Listen," I ceased my moans as I heard the slapping sounds of our skins. "You are so wet for me, my Lady. Your pussy demands to hold my dick."

Both of my hands were now resting against his chest. "I am going to explode." The hand that was on my ass moved to the front, flicking my clitoris. "You fill me up so good, Sir!"

"I will fill you even more soon." He groaned, sitting down so he could move me closer to my body. Our mouths, touching in an open kiss. "I am going to release my entire load inside you. I am going to impregnate you, my Lady." I moaned. "You want that, right?" His thrusts became sloppier and harder. "You want to get filled and carry another gorgeous baby." I nodded my head. "You are as irresistible while pregnant. The way you cannot keep your hands to yourself. The way your bosom gets even bigger."

"Please, fill me."

No more words needed to be said as our teeth clattered against each other, riding our highs together. My vision got blurry, and my moans louder as I felt all of his huge load filling me up. "Oh, fuck me, my Lady. You take my load so good." The rest was full of kisses and warm under the sheets. His member had softened inside me.

On one of the walls of our chambers, there was a portrait of my younger self. She resembled grave and upset. Her composture seemed forced, but around her body, there were flames. Sparks that represented the passion she badly wanted to share. The adventures she wanted to live. There was a yellow light, which seemed, to be connected to her heart.

Dylan had described a young lady who aspired to live a passionate life. A young woman whose heart and mind were full of hope.

There was a lovely detail on the portrait. On the wall behind the young girl, there was a mirror, where you could perceive a young Dylan, examining the woman before him with a peculiar shining light on his eyes. The identical light young Y/N had while looking at Dylan O'Brien, the humble painter who shared the 'fictional' love she always wanted to experience.The love they both found and fancied.

Yes, destiny could be changed.

Those who asked to be tagged. Thank you for showing interest:

@og-baby-ob14 - @sweetest-serpent01 - @tovvaa - @jazminebrightxx - @sonnydoesrandomshit - @badgyal-barbie - @trustfundparker - @blueraindrops

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dp-marvel94 · 3 years

Text

Dan Redemption with a twist

So I'm still geeking out over my ask that @stillebesat answered a few days ago, the one where about an upcoming fic. I've been playing around with a really similar idea, with a redeemed Dan fusing with a clone of Danny, for months now.

Here's my idea:

First of all, my preferred version of Dan is basically Danny but evil. He less fused with Plasmius and more consumed his powers so Dan doesn't have any of Vlad's memories. Next, I'm a big fan of the idea that Dan deeply regrets killing his human half and is, for lack of a better word, haunted by the action. It was the first death of his reign of terror, his final chance to turn back from the dark path he was on and...it was his suicide.

Now, Dan doesn't realize any of this for what feels like centuries. He's trapped in the Fenton thermos in Clockwork's lair, alone with only his thoughts. And the knowledge starts creeping in, all that he'd lost, all that he'd done. He realizes that he misses his friends and family and to his surprise, he hopes his younger self saved them. But then he realized that he tried to kill them. And the guilt starts creeping in. The regret follows and he remembers all the rest of his crimes. He doesn't have enough humanity, enough emotional capacity to be wrecked but he's no longer a rage fueled destructive monster.

Then to Dan's shook, Clockwork releases him without a word. The master of time dumps him in the new timeline, maybe a few months after the events of TUE. To his dim relief, Dan finds that his friends and family are all still alive. He watches them for a while, trying to process where he is and what happened. But then he runs into Danny. And things don't go well. It's a rocky start. Danny does not trust Dan at all. He doesn't trust that the older ghost has no intention of hurting his loved ones. Danny is ready and willing to fight and recapture him. The younger's opinion doesn't change until Dan saves him and Jazz during a ghost attack. The two ghosts, at Jazz's insistence, come to an uneasy impasse. Danny will leave Dan alone if the older ghost leaves him and his family alone. Dan isn't really happy about this arrangement but it's better than being trapped in the thermos again and he does have no intention of hurting his younger counterpart or his loved ones.

So Dan concedes. He stays out of Danny's way. He watches. He catches glimpses of his former friends and family from a distance. And it hurts. Dan feels out of place, disconnected. This isn't his time, isn't his place. He's stuck on the outside looking in... and this timeline already has a Danny, one who didn't make the aggresous mistakes he did. And those mistakes... the guilt's still there but like all other emotions, it's dim and distant. That's how it's been since his death, with every emotion but rage. But still, Dan does not like being on the outside looking in. He needs to do something else with himself, find some place he can belong.

Then Dan remembers Vlad. He had gone to the older half ghost after losing everything. And... Vlad had tried to help him. Separating the then halfa at his request had been a horrible idea but Vlad had been trying. Vlad did care about him. And.... the man must be so lonely now. Lonely like Dan himself is.

It's something of a wim but Dan goes to the older halfa. And at first, it's a surprise to Vlad and then seemingly a dream come true. Here in front of him is a version of Daniel who wants to stay by his side willingly. This Dan is more powerful and experienced than his younger counterpart, though not as experienced as Vlad. The young man is willing to be taught and all he seemingly wants is companionship. Yes, it would be a dream come true except...

Dan will not tolerate any of Vlad's shit. He will not be used to hurt anyone ever again. He will not take part in any of Vlad's schemes against the Fentons. It's a high price to pay but the older man backs off. Vlad is content to not be alone and have a chance to convince Dan to work with him.

So Dan stays with Vlad. With the older man busy with work, Dan has free reign of the mansion for most of the day. In some ways, it's nice. Away from Amity Park, there's no temptation to check on his former loved ones. His longing for a life he can no longer have is diminished. Vlad's mansion provides ample distraction, in the library, the game room, the gardens. But... the days are long and often lonely and the nights... they're even worse. The large building, empty and quiet, it's too much like a time Dan wishes he could forget. The memories are stronger now. After the fiery explosion...weeks of weeping in his room. Somber diners with Vlad where he couldn't force himself to eat. Waking up from another nightmare.

Without his humanity, the grief isn't as soul wrenching as it should be. But it's ever present, the memories on repeat. And there is little to break them up. As a ghost, Dan cannot sleep. He cannot eat. He can't truly feel the sun on his face or the comforting chill of the water on the pool. All physical sensations are dimmed.

And Dan starts to realize, it's excruciating. He feels incomplete, like there's a gapping whole in his chest. The memories of his own death, seen from the outside, return. His own icy blue eyes wide with fear and pain. Red blood spattered on his face. It's horrifying. Or it should be. If Dan could muster up more than the dimmest shadow of the emotion. But he can't, because the part of him that could died 10 years ago. And... this is wrong. He is wrong.

He should have died completely as himself, as Danny Fenton. He shouldn't have watched his death from the outside by his own hands. He shouldn't be this half being that couldn't even be bothered to die properly.

Dan stews, a forgotten anger growing as he longs for something he'd once wanted rid of. His human self, his Fenton, his humanity... he wants it. He wants to be truly, completely himself again. He wants to be whole enough to fade, to move on.

But that is the problem with ghosts, especially one like him. They do not change. They do not move on. As much as Dan acts like he is older, like he is different, he is not. He's the same angry, broken teen that he was ten years ago. And he will never be anything else.

Dan rages, trashing Vlad's training room. Soon enough, his anger is spent and the young man comes back to his senses. Dan huffs in frustration and annoyance at himself. He'd rather enjoyed Vlad's training room and now the man himself will likely be cross with him. Dan does his best to put the room back in order and find something else to do.

But the pain, regret, and longing linger. At some level, Dan thinks he's being ridiculous. All his former loved ones are alive. Dan isn't alone. He has Vlad and the ability to determine his own future. This world wasn't ravaged by his hand. His mistakes have been erased. He should be free. Except...

No, his mistakes are not all erased. His own death returns to his mind over and over. He shouldn't think about, he shouldn't dwell on it but...

One day, Dan goes down to Vlad's secret lab. He knows he shouldn't. This is such a breach of Vlad's trust but... this is were it happened. The young man stares at the metal table. If he was capable of feelings cold, he would shiver. There, where he was pulled out of his body. That wall, he cornered his human half there, the boy cowering in fear. There, that control panel was spattered with his own blood.

Dan wishes he could cry but he's not human enough for that. He's not human at all. But he wishes he was.

Startled by the thought, the full ghost turns away. He shouldn't wish for things he can't have but... no. Dan's eyes flicker around the room, looking for small differences from his memories. Some of the equipment is laid out differently. There are different samples on the shelf and... that door wasn't there before.

Dan walks through and finds... metal and glass chambers in different degrees of construction. A few are filled with ectoplasm and there in the back... if Dan had a heart, it would stop. There in a clear pod with a breathing mask over his face is...Danny Fenton. No, that's not right. This isn't... this isn't his timeline. And his younger counterpart is in Amity Park so....

Dan frantically searches Vlad's computer, his notes for answers. Clones. Vlad had been trying to clone his younger half ghost counterpart. In the tube... clone 3. Fully human. Suffered mental decline from 2 weeks gestation and eventually brain death a month later. Body kept alive by machines since... the week Dan arrived.

Dan wishes he could feel shock. He wishes he could feel relief. From the data, this was the first attempt that even resembled something human. The others were by all measures animals, in no way sentient. And it appears Vlad hasn't continued working since Dan came to live with him. But still...

Dan confronts Vlad, asking about the experiments, about the clone kept on life support.

"I could not bear to pull the plug." Vlad answers, surprisingly sober. "I'd hoped his condition would improve." There is a far away look in his eyes, a longing. "I tried everything I could think of to stop the degradation but..." The older half ghost shook his head. "I'm continuing to monitor 3's status." There was a pain in Vlad voice. "I fear he won't live to see the outside of his chamber."

Vlad was in denial, Dan thinkd. This clone is gone, like his own human half. The heart still beats, the lungs still breath but...

He shock his head. "Before you approach me, I consider...if I could create a viable, ghostly clone and coax the spirit to hybridize with the body..."

The idea was ridiculous and he should be disgusted, hearing all Vlad had done, what he had planned but...

"That is all in the past now." Vlad finished sadly.

All in the past like the loss of his own human half. He shouldn't wish for things that he couldn't have but...

"I'm a viable ghost..." Dan could barely believe the words coming out his mouth. "Not a clone but... I am without a human side."

Vlad is staring at him like he has another head, something which Dan was sure he did not currently have. "Daniel...are you suggesting... what I think you are suggesting?"

Was he? It was ridiculous, impossible. He could not replace his human side by... possessing an animated corpse.

"No. I am not." Dan denied. "Forget I said anything."

Vlad gave a nod, dropping the conversation. But Dan did not forget. This idea... it was wrong. It was impossible. He couldn't be made a half ghost again. But...

The temptation. If anyone could get it to work, it would be Vlad. And if it did...the ghost floats to what had been his bedroom and laid down. If it worked, he could sleep. He could eat. He could go out in public with human. It would necessarily be a replacement for what he'd lost but...

No... this was wrong. This was basically a clone of himself whose body he wanted to steal. But... was it really? This was an empty body, no mind, no soul. It was mad science but... Dan was already the product of mad science.

And if it worked, not as an overshadowing but a hybrization... he could truly age, he could grow passed what happened. And he could feel more than the pale shadows he could now.

The next day, Dan asks Vlad for what he wants.

"Are you sure?" The man asked. "This could have unknown consequences on your body or your mind. You could even destabilize."

That gave Dan pause. This might not work. He might end up in unknown pain or even fade but... "this is worth the risk."

The pair work together, planning and experimenting. They give the body transfusions of Dan's ectoplasm. The younger ghost practices envisioning himself as a halfa again. He prepares himself.

"I will need to reduce you down to your core." Vlafd says solemnly.

Dan places his existence in Vlad's hands. After blowing off seemingly endless amounts of energy in a desolate portion of the Ghost Zone, the older halfa repeatedly shocks him with the Plasmius Maximus. Dan's body pops out of existence, leaving his core exposed.

As just a core, there is no sensation. No input. No output. It's terrifyingly like being in the thermos again. Dan knows he is being moved. Vlad is doing something to him but... there is nothing and too much at the same time.

Dan can not process. He is cradled. There is something beside him, something around him reaching out. Something is changing. He is changing. It is too much. Dan loses consciousness for the first time in ten years. It is not sleep. There is no dream. He can think one moment, separated from the world. And the next...

He is under water. Something is beeping. He feels light but heavy. Cold but warm. His center is fluttering, something straining and pounding. An emotion. Something that might be panic or fear suddenly rises in him, crashing over him as a wave. An equally panicked voice comes from in front of him. Then there's a sting in his neck. Sting? Pain? Pain, it's been so long since he felt pain. And... his neck? He has a neck again. Dan blacks out again.

The young man comes to again. There is still something beeping near his head. He's not under water now but laying on something soft. Soft and warm. Warm....Dan can feel that. His breath hitches. Breath... he feels lungs move on his chest. And...he feel heavy and warm. Something... something happened. He can't remember what...

Dan's eyes flutter open, falling on... Vlad.

The man's eyes met his, relief flashing across them. "Daniel." He sighs. "How do you feel?"

"Feel?" Dan crocks. Is that... is that his voice? "What...what happened?" The ghost (?) thinks he might know. "Did it work?" He whispered.

Dan's voice... his voice is high, like when he was a younger teen. It should feel strange but...

"Take a look." Vlad says, offering him a mirror.

Dan reaches forward with a shaking hand. His hand... it's not gloved, neither is it blue. It's.... he stares. It's a pale peach color like... his hands are smaller and thinner....

"Daniel." Vlad interrupts. "It's alright." He holds the mirror up and...

Dan meets blue eyes. His own blue eyes. Eyes he never thought he'd see again except on someone else. His eyes water as he reaches towards the mirror. "It worked."

His new heart is aching, a thousand emotions hitting him. Joy, happiness, relief, grief, guilt, regret. All of them are bigger, nearer, more real and soul-aching than it's been in years. He should be upset. He looks and sounds like a kid again. But... "I'm alive."

He is alive. And it is a joy. A gift. A promise. He will not waste this second chance.

The newly remade halfa is crying and...it's never felt so good.

#danny phantom #dan phantom #vlad plasmius #i know Dan's grossly ooc here but i do not care.#my post #my ficlet

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sophiainspace · 3 years

Note

Zari Tomaz and Zari Tarazi 💫

I leave in the morning - I don’t wanna go

I said to the teller, “If this is the future I don’t wanna know”

I’m afraid of meaning nothing again, after all this is over

This is over after all…

‘Teller,’ Throwing Muses

Hanging out in the totem waiting for her counterpart to return is the worst boredom that Zari Tarazi has ever had the misfortune of experiencing. And she lived through the great Tarazi Residence Internet Outtage of 2031.

And then, one day when she’s very quietly exploring places she probably shouldn’t be - though no one’s actually told her not to - Zari finds the rec lounge. At least, that’s the vibe this room is clearly going for. There’s no TV or internet, of course. (The other totem-bearers went over long explanations of why technology doesn’t work in the totem - something something astral realm - but Zari wasn’t really listening.) Otherwise, this laid-back room is kind of nice. There’s lots of comfy seats and ottomans arranged for ease of socialising, and a few games on the tables - a chess set and jigsaw puzzles. And there’s a shisha bar, of all things, with only delightfully non-alcoholic drinks behind the bar. Most of the time, this room is empty. Zari half-wonders why no one uses it, then remembers that the totem bearers are all old, uppity types who’d never darken the doors of a friendly, social rec room. Which kind of defeats its purpose. Zari goes there to chill a lot anyway. It’s nicer than the ridiculous room with the terrible couches and weird wall hangings.

One morning, Zari wanders into the rec room and nearly falls over. There’s someone behind the bar. Someone familiar.

“Charlie?” she breathes.

It’s not Charlie. As soon as the woman looks up and smiles at her, Zari can tell that much. (Her excited heartbeat slows to something oddly… disappointed.) “No,” the woman says softly. “I’m sorry - I’m not your friend.” She taps a bottle of cordial with a smile. “Let me make it up to you. Mocktail?”

“I could have sworn…” Zari shakes her head and scoots onto a stool. “Sure. Mocktail. Why not?”

“What takes your fancy?” the bartender is asking, running a lithe hand across the bottles.

“Hmm. Not coffee, that’s for sure. You people have the worst coffee on the astral plane. Virgin daiquiri?” Zari eyes the bartender. Yellow dress, printed in southern African patterns. Hair wound up in a matching yellow scarf. She’s not Charlie, but she’s gorgeous - in her own, softer way. “I’m Zari.”

Halfway through mixing drinks, the bartender gives Zari an unexpected wink. “Oh, I know who you are,” she almost purrs. Zari blinks at her. She’d been getting a ‘wise elder’ vibe from this one, right up till that wink. Now there’s a hint of something much more fun in the woman’s eyes. And fun isn’t how Zari would describe most of the staid old totem bearers around here.

Before Zari can ask the bartender’s name, a drink is passed across the bar, and Zari accepts it with thanks. Then sips it, and feels her eyes get wide. “Oh, this is good.” It’s sweet, but not laden with sugar, and cut with enough real lime to give it a kick. Zari grins at the bartender. “You have a talent.”

“So I’m told,” the bartender says, leaning back with an unreadable look at Zari. It makes Zari feel things. Another unexpected reaction. Who is this woman?

But, once again, Zari doesn’t have time to ask. The bartender distracts her. “You look like someone stole the lime out of your drink,” she observes wryly. “Want to tell me about it?”

Zari snorts, bouncing her eyebrows at the woman. “Tell me all your troubles? Seems a bit stereotypical for you, barkeep. Since I’m guessing this is not exactly your main gig.”

The bartender’s shrug is adorable. “You got me.” She sits down across the bar from Zari. “My other job around here is seeing the currents of the past and the future. The way the patterns of the universe weave themselves slowly towards justice.”

That sounds like a good starting point for giving advice. Zari really has no reason to tell this stranger anything, but she finds herself sighing anyway, as she sips her drink. “I’m guessing that whole ‘weaving towards justice’ thing is kinda cosmic, and doesn’t work on a personal level.” The woman’s wry little head-tilt tells Zari she’s right. Fate is a tricky thing, Charlie always said. You can’t always control where your life is headed. Not that that’s ever stopped Zari from doing her best. “I’m afraid they won’t want me back.”

The bartender raises her eyes. “The Legends.” It’s not even a question.

Zari’s head snaps up. Today is just full of surprises. “You know them?”

A smile, almost nostalgic. “I know some of them very well. And… I’m not sure where you fit in the timeline, but I know that team. The more they change, the more they stay the same.” The bartender taps on the countertop. “Why wouldn’t they want you back?”

“They’ve got the other Zari back now,” she murmurs. Saying it aloud sounds self-pitying, like being the worst version of herself. She hates that. But it’s too late to stop talking. She’s jumped in with both feet, and Zari Tarazi always commits to the bit. “I know they miss her a lot. They talk about her all the time. Even Behrad - especially Behrad. He’s her number one fan. Like he never was of me…” Zari trails off, feeling like she’s gone too far. Bitterness helps no one. She knows Behrad loves her. It’s just that he remembers his other life, with the other Zari. They were close - the way he always wanted to be with his version of his sister. “Anyway. They must be happy to have her home. And they can only have one of us at a time, so…” She shrugs.

The bartender’s thoughtful eyes get sharper. “And you think that means they don’t need you anymore?”

Zari shrugs. “They’ve got the OG,” she mumbles. “Why would they want little new me?” She should know that’s nonsense. There’s no OG except her. Zari Tarazi, the one and only. But a few weeks in a totem, with no one to talk to, no CatChat, and no business to run - well, it could make the most confident girl lose her nerve.

The bartender goes a little fuzzy, like she’s watching something off in the distance. When she focuses on Zari again, her beautiful eyes have that joy in them again, with a bit of a wicked edge. “Because you give them something no one else can. Your drive. Your spirit. Your unique, powerful kind of wisdom.” She grins at Zari. “And your serious business acumen. Don’t tell me you think your brother’s filling in for you there.”

Zari snorts. “I’d like to hope he’d rise to the occasion, but - nope, he will not be.” She hums at the beautiful bartender. She must turn some girls’ heads around here. That’s quite some cosmic wisdom she’s got going on. “You really think they need me?”

She gets a smile back. “I do. But what I think doesn’t really matter, does it?” She raises a challenging eyebrow at Zari.

Zari thinks back over so many missions where the team needed her unique skills… and many more times when her friends looked at her like she mattered. For herself, not for anyone else she might resemble. “Oh, they’ve gotta be so very lost without me,” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“You are not wrong,” says a voice behind her. Zari Tomaz slides onto the stool beside her. “Hey, Amaya. Can you get me something caffeinated? Triple espresso. Ooh, and something sweet. Got any donuts back there?” She tilts her head at the other Zari. “I forgot how exhausting the Legends are. I’m kinda pleased to get some time to myself, back in here.”

Amaya - of course that’s who it is, and Zari can’t believe she didn’t figure it out - passes a coffee over to Zari 1.0. “Hi, beautiful. Missed you.” She nods at Zari. “But I’ve been getting to know your lovely counterpart here, while we were waiting for you.”

Zari 1.0 makes a thoughtful face at her other self. “I hope being in here hasn’t bummed you out too much. Ready to go back and face the chaos?” She pats Zari on the back. “And I hate to break it you, but it really is peak chaos back in the time stream right now.”

“Oh, please.” Zari downs the last of her mocktail. “When is it not peak chaos on the Waverider?” She holds up a hand when Zari 1.0 starts to speak. “Don’t fill me in. I wanna walk right onto that bridge full of ridiculous disasters and experience what I’ve missed first-hand.”

Laughing, Zari 1.0 shrugs. “Enjoy yourself, hon. Or maybe that should be ‘on your own head be it.’ One of those.” She reaches out a hand for Amaya’s across the bar, and they share the cutest smile Zari has seen a couple give each other in a while. Oh, these two are adorable. As Zari takes them both in - gorgeous, wise Amaya, and the way Zari 1.0 looks at her - Zari is almost not jealous.

Time to make an exit. Zari pushes back her chair with a squeak. “Bye, OG.” She gives the beautiful bartender a little wave. “Bye, Amaya.” And she walks away with just a little bit of flair, all too aware that the other two are watching her leave. Just perfect.

At the door, Zari turns around. “Have a simply lovely time catching up, Zamaya.” She nods at Zari 1.0, who’s now looking at her girlfriend like Amaya flew to the moon and brought it back for her. “I think this one’s missed you, Amaya. I hope you get to spoil her a little.”

Zari 1.0 chuckles, turning to give Zari a smile. “Take care, hon. And there’s some people out there who’ve missed you too, you know. Go let them celebrate you. You deserve it.” Maybe it’s her imagination, but Zari thinks her counterpart’s guarded eyes get a little softer. “And Zari… thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Zari lifts her fingers, ready to click them and disappear in a haze of totem magic. Always leave them wanting more. “Be seeing you, OG Z, next time you want to switch places. Oh, and…” Zari winks at Amaya. “Next time I visit, I want internet - fast enough to run a business with. And better coffee. And an easier way to watch the Waverider crew, that doesn’t involve being stuck in that awful room with the wall hangings. And some people to play all these games with! And—”

Rolling her eyes, the other Zari clicks her fingers.

“Rude,” Zari snarks to herself, in the middle of the empty Waverider hallway. She turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. She can hear the sounds of a firefight on the bridge, and she needs a decent cup of coffee before she goes to anyone’s aid. The Legends will understand.

#ficlet #zari tarazi #zari tomaz #amaya jiwe #zamaya #zarlie #(hinted)#my fic #legends of tomorrow fanfic #prompt fills #none of us can queue this alone

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stonylovessteve · 3 years

Text

SLS 2021 Creator Reveals

We’ve reached the end of the exchange and that means it’s time to reveal the creators of all our works!

Thank you for putting so much love and effort into Stony Loves Steve 2021, you really made it a great experience. We hope everyone loved it as much as we did!

Giftees, be sure to leave a comment and kudos on your gift if you haven’t already. All our creators worked hard to make this event a success, so show them some love.

You can now post your work publicly outside of the exchange. Tag it as #stonylovessteve2021 on tumblr and we’ll reblog you. @ us @stonylovessteve on twitter and we’ll retweet you.

Below the cut is the final list of all the works produced for the exchange and the creators.

Cold as Ice, Warm my Heart by lil_aussie_girl for parkrstark (MCU, 1.5k)

The cold took away one love already, and his greatest fear is that it will do it again - before he has the chance to say those three important words.

Strength Like The Sea/A Familiar Yet Foreign Face by Lacrimula_Falsa for funkyspacegirlfriend (AU, 3k)

There had to be another explanation for the ugly burning feeling in his chest because this wasn’t a rom-com and he’d known Steve for less than a day.

After years of his father fruitlessly searching for one, Tony finally gets to meet a real-life vampire.

· · ·*‒*‒ ‒ ‒*‒ ·*‒ · ‒ ‒

Anthony.

No, not Anthony, because Anthony had crumbled to dust right before his eyes. But this man looked so eerily similar to him, he could have been Anthony’s twin brother. Only the eyes were different, warm brown instead of cold blue. After being woken nearly a century after he went into stasis because the pain of losing his lover Anthony was too much, Steven meets a man who looks just like him.

I Know There is Comfort Where We Overlap by jellybeanforest for ghosthan (Ults, 10k)

As a relic of a bygone era, Steve struggles with feelings of isolation and severe depression made worse by his recent breakup with Jan Pym. He secretly hooks up with random strangers chasing a sense of connection with someone, anyone. Things are going (not) well when he and fellow Ultimate, Iron Man, are tasked with infiltrating a Thai resort serving as a front for illegal arms dealing. Only catch: They must go undercover as a married couple on their honeymoon.

finding steve rogers by jacobby for geekymoviemom (MCU, 6k)

Steve sighs. “Sorry. I wasn’t a very good tour guide. Ma always told me about the town, but she never got into specifics.”

Tony takes Steve’s hand in his and places it close to his lips. “It’s your first time here too. We understand.”

AKA

After a botched mission with SHIELD, Steve takes a vacation with his family to a town in Ireland.

Things are knot as they seem by BladeoftheNebula for DepressingGreenie (AU, 3k)

Everyone assumes Captain America is an alpha and Steve doesn’t see the harm in not correcting them. After all, Alphas command respect while omegas are still considered far too delicate for leadership.

And sure, it sucks hiding his designation when he’s in love with Tony Stark, the hottest alpha he’s ever seen, but what alpha would want an omega who could lift them with one hand?

So it’s fine. It’s not as if anyone was ever going to find out his secret anyway…

A drop of love by CapAL for Perlmutt (AU, Comic)

After sleeping for 70 years Steve wakes up to a world that he doesn’t understand. As an age-old vampire he’s seen a lot of things in his life, but nothing has ever confused him as much as the bubbly Starbucks barista Tony. They meet by chance and Steve stays. He falls for him, even though he knows he shouldn’t, and together they explore modern New York, while Steve tries to hide his true nature from Tony, afraid that he would send him away if he knew the truth.

The Fake Prince and the Cat by Neverever for Fluffypanda (AU, 5.5k)

Steve is sent in place of Prince Brock to marry the libertine Tony Stark. It's better than he thought it would be, plus he makes friends with a cat.

father to son by parkrstark for HogwartsToAlexandria (MCU, 2.5k)

Steve had been planning on asking Peter to be his son, officially, for weeks now, but he always chickened out because he didn't thik he was good enough for the boy. Funnily enough, Peter had the same idea, but when he showed the adoption papers to Steve, he didn't have the best of reactions.

The Best Half Of Me by Huntress79 for RoseRose (AU, 1.5k)

An encounter with one of his exes at a charity gala opens Tony’s eyes about how much he really loves Steve - and how much he’s looking forward to their future together.

neither here nor there by ghosthan for Welcoming_Disaster (616, 18k)

Captain America comes back from Dimension Z changed. He has had over a decade of his life taken from him, as well as the woman he loved. Stoic, secretive, and traumatized, much of what he experienced remains a mystery to SHIELD and the world; Tony is there to help him heal, and uncover the truth about how much Steve has lost.

The Eventide Aspect by geekymoviemom for ishipallthings (MCU, T, 12k)

“Yeah, Cap, about that,” Tony says, looking rather sheepish as he scratches at the back of his neck.

“Yeah?” asks Steve.

“Well… remember those half-baked ideas that I mentioned? I’m afraid this might be one of ‘em,” says Tony.

“Okay. Care to explain it to someone who doesn't speak technical?”

“Ahh…” Tony trails off, mumbling under his breath again. “Yeah. Um… if my theory is correct, I’m thinking that when we stepped through that window, we might’ve entered another dimension.”

Looking by Robin_tCJ for Vento_Lunar (MCU, E, 4k)

After a raid on a HYDRA base, Steve's body reverts back to the way it was before the serum. Tony still wants him.

You Had Me in the First Half by Corsets_and_Cardigans for Robin_tCj (MCU, E, 2k)

Steve is on his way to meet Bucky for a movie before their football team goes away for a game. Too bad Tony has plans for him! He'll apologize to Bucky for it later.

the rest is history by starksnack for muchmoremajestic (Avengers Academy, G, 2k)

It's Steve's birthday and he usually likes to spend it alone. Of course, Tony has other ideas.

Basically just some soft AvAc fluff.

(Let Me) Love and Be Loved by HeLovedYou for wikketkrikket (MCU, T, 6k)

Steve forgets how to self-sabotage his own happiness.

He also forgets his team, his soulmate and the last three years of his life.

avengers featuring steve’s doppleganger vol 1 (FANCOMIC) by wingheads for jellybeanforrest (616, Art)

tony dates a man who looks a lot like steve. everyone can see it, everyone knows what that means, except tony, who doesn't seem to realize he's dating steve's doppelganger. steve doesn't see the resemblance either and actually comes to like tony's new boyfriend, but then one of the other avengers spills the beans that they look exactly alike to tony, who can't unsee it now and breaks up with the new guy, only for steve to be sad that his baseball-buddy won't be around anymore.

Hart Island by Amber_Skye for lil_aussie_girl (MCU, G, 12k)

Steve is acting out of character, and Tony and the other Avengers can’t work out why.

the soul of dragons by funkyspacegirlfriend for Amber_Skye (MCU, T, 2k)

Steve’s dragon companion is the largest Tony’s ever seen up close. And she captivates Tony from the very first moment.

Just in the Knit of Time by DepressingGreenie for picturecat (Avengers Assemble, T, 2.5k)

Steve only has a week to tell Tony he loves him before his secret is leaked to the world.

Learning Curve by picturecat for Huntress79 (Avengers Academy AU, G, 2k)

Freshly defrosted, Steve Rogers is the newest teacher at the Avengers Academy—an attempt to guide and teach the newest generation of heroes before they have to take on the burdens of their teachers. Steve himself has a lot of learning to do.

First Impression by veryvincible for wingheads (616, M, 7k)

The Avengers find the schematics of a deadly weapon in the hands of an up-and-coming villain. To safely retrieve the data that led to its creation and keep the city safe in the process, they have to take a very subtle approach. The man-- Jack Marshall-- has an eye for hunks and a tendency to get vulnerable with them. The team could use this to their advantage, if they have the right assets.

Enter Steve.

Dandelions and Lilies by Wikketkrikket for CapAL (AU, G, 4k)

Written for CapAL for the StonylovesSteve event 2021.

A summer job in the florists is pretty good, as summer jobs go; and when a handsome guy comes in with some very particular requirements it gets even better.

Or it would, if Steve wasn't lying about the meaning of every bouquet he sold.

Potshot by jellybeanforest for jacobby (AU, T, 2.5k)

In an expansive wasteland infested with hordes of the undead, Steve, leader of a group of ex-military operatives known as the Avengers, searches for survivors and supplies in the ruins of the old world.

That’s all well and good, but Tony would do just about anything for an American cheeseburger.

For Stony Loves Steve 2021. Based on a prompt by jacobby.

Remorse and Rapture by oliverparker for optimusprime13 (AU, E, 6k)

When Steve's mother falls ill, he's forced to move in with the family she works for. He's not thrilled about it.

Shards of Eternities by Perlmutt for starksnack (AU, T, 5k)

Rumor had it that the war would soon be over. It could not end soon enough. Until then, Anthony would wait for Steven. He would wait and protect their child. He would wait and write another thousand letters for his alpha, his mate, his husband, if only he would come home, come for him, come for them.

Two Can Play That Game by JehBeEhh for Becci Barnes (BeccEEE) (MCU, T, 4k)

Tony Stark is many things. Patient isn't always one of them. Especially not when there's a happily ever after at the end of that bout of patience.

Uncovered by mariana_oconnor for Corsets_and_Cardigans (MCU, G, 6k)

Steve didn't think the tip-off was anything more than the usual nonsensical conspiracy theory. He only went to check it out because he was curious. He definitely wasn't expecting it to be a trap.

Build Me Up Buttercup by ishipallthings for BladeoftheNebula (4k, M, MCU)

Tony sees the gold letters spelling “Stark” on the edge of Steve’s hood and his mind grinds to a halt. Steve looks good wearing his name. Too good.

(In which Steve starts experimenting with a new style. Tony does not find this infuriatingly attractive, thank you very much.)

Discovery [Art] by Fluffypanda for captainstars (Art, G, Noir)

Renowned adventurer Tony Stark discovers a carving of a lost civilization's protector.

I left my heart (at home with you) by captainstars for UisceOneLove (2k, G, AU)

It shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did.

The man grinned at him, wide and beautiful. Steve couldn’t help sneaking another glance towards the heavens. They really lost their citizens fairly easily. Steve would like to say this was the first white robed beauty he had come across until now, but he wasn’t.

(OR)

Steve moved to a cabin in the woods hoping to live the life of a hermit werewolf. When Tony Stark decided to become his new neighbor, it threw a bit of a wrench into Steve’s plans.

(OR)

A werewolf and an incubus cuddling in a tree.

Raspberry Beret (I Think I Love Her) by ralsbecket for oliverparker (4k, M, 3490)

When Steve looked at Natasha, he knew in his heart that she was what put his derailed train back on its tracks. For the first time since they met, Steve felt like he had some semblance of a plan for his future. And he wanted Natasha to be a part of it.

Savior Complex by optimusprime13 for HeLovedYou (18.5k, G, AU)

Wealthy businessman Steve Rogers stumbles into barely-getting-by Tony Stark in a cemetery, and they hit it off immediately. Steve is enamored by Tony’s razor-sharp wit, his startling intelligence, and his penchant for building stuff. He has a problem though - he can’t stop wanting to save everybody around him, especially Tony - who is struggling to make ends meet. However, Tony is too proud and stubborn to accept any help from Steve. But when Tony gets kidnapped to act as bait for Steve, how far will Steve go to save Tony when it means sacrificing himself?

Through His Stomach by RoseRose for JehBeeEh (2k, G, MCU)

Steve decides he wants to try to cook with all the new ingredients he has found in this new time, but he needs someone else to taste-test his creations. Tony is holed up in his workshop, so he makes the perfect guinea pig. The two of them grow closer over several meals.

Iron & Sapphire by Becci Barnes (BeccEEE) for Lacrimula_Falsa (AU, 5k)

Steve can always sense him, long before Tony enters his cave. It makes his blue scales tremble and his big wings flutter in excitement. Tony brings light and warmth into this musty hideout he calls home. And food. And while they may be as odd a couple as you can imagine, that won't stop them from bantering and cuddling just like anyone else.

Man On The Moon by Welcoming_Disaster for veryvincible (616, 7k)

Things haven't been the same since Steve has found out about Tony's secret identity. A mission that goes wrong forces both of them to confront why.

I Love You to the Moon and Back by muchmoremajestic for mariana_oconnor (MCU, 3k)

After Steve gets attacked in the woods, certain changes start happening.

Happy Birthday to America's ass by njava97 for ralsbecket (MCU, 2.5k)

It's the night before Steve's birthday and something is very wrong.

Magic's in the Moving Portrait by UisceOneLove for neverever (AU, 9.5k)

Without his ma, Steve's lost his ability to make art. In walks new wizarding student Tony Stark, who also happens to be his new roommate. All hope might not be lost just yet for him and his brush.

Reach The Sky by Vento_Lunar for njava97 (MCU, art)

Non-serum Steve Rogers saves the world. (And Tony saves him)

#stonylovessteve2021

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rogueonestan · 3 years

Text

wopc - ch 10 - sojourn and sunrises

pairing: the mandalorian x f!reader/ ofc

word count: 5.4k

warnings: some blood mention (minor), more ~soft~

summary: the battle on sorgan left everyone feeling happy. the sense of danger no longer can be felt in the air. that is, until a new threat reveals themselves.

previous part | wopc masterlist | main masterlist | next part

The blinding sun is what wakes you up this morning.

After celebrating the village’s victory against the raiders, both you and Mando both decided to take up the village’s offer of staying here for a while. There’s something about this place that seems like home to the two of you. It’s hard to put into words, but there’s a peace that lingers in the air.

The sunshine greets you every morning and you’ve developed a morning routine of watching the sunrise. Who knew something so simple would bring you so much joy? The light morning breeze and the sound of the birds singing always puts you in a good mood.

You always admire the morning sky alone. Mando always sleeps in. The morning after the celebration occurred, you accidentally woke him up when you tripped over him after insisting he would sleep on the floor while you got the bed. You declined, of course, but his stubbornness never gave up. When he saw that you were beginning to head out of the hut, he asked where you were going, in which you explained you just wanted to get some fresh air.

This morning is no different. The familiar morning breeze keeps you company. The local animals are just waking up as they begin to chatter. The villagers also begin their morning routines by the sound of distant chatter and pots clanging.

“Room for one more?”

Turning your head to the left, you see Mando has gotten up early this morning to join you. A smile appears on your face when you realize this and after scooting to the side, you pat the now empty spot, silently inviting him to join you.

He quickly does and the two of you sit in silence. You glance at the morning sky, but you can’t seem to focus on it. Every morning you always manage to see some sort of figure in the clouds, but today you can’t. All that you can focus on is the feeling of Mando’s thigh brushing up against yours, just like how it did during your ride to the village all those weeks ago.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You comment.

“It is.”

You glance over at your partner when you comment on the beautiful sky, but unlike yours, Mando’s gaze doesn’t leave. He watches how the soft smile on your face has never left. How your lips slightly lift at the corners. How soft your gaze is as you admire the slight movement of the tree branches. How you lift your gaze to watch a bird fly overhead. How close both of your hands are from touching each other.

“Do you like it here?” He asks.

“Yes, it reminds me of the home I had as a child.”

“Before it was taken over by the Empire?”

“Before it was destroyed by them.” You correct him, “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a place that resembles so closely to my home.”

“What was it like?”

“Like how it is here: peaceful, undisturbed, secluded. Like here, we too also had a strong sense of community. We all were extremely close with one another.”

“That’s how it was for me too.”

“With the Mandalorians?”

“No, before that.” He answers,

You wait for him to continue but he never does. When you glance from his visor to your lap, you finally notice how close your hands are. You see how his fingers twitch in their spot as they barely move an inch closer to yours. Without saying another word, you take his hand in yours. Whenever you have to talk about a difficult subject, like the rough beginnings of your childhood, having the support of someone else has always helped you talk about it. Maybe it’ll give Mando that same comfort as well.

It’s been such a long time since Mando has talked to someone else about personal matters such as this, especially something as sensitive as the loss of his parents. Nightmares about their deaths plague his mind frequently at night. It’s not easy for him to think about it, let alone talk about them.

“Before the Mandalorians took me in, we lived in a village similar to this one. We didn’t have much but it was home.”

“‘We’?”

“My parents and I. We- we lived in a village like this one. Close knitted, small, tight.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Everyday. At least once a month, the village would throw a small get-together in the center of town just so everyone could catch up. There would be loud music, a large feast. The children would run around and enjoy themselves. The parents would chat with their friends. It was something I always looked forward to as a boy.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“It was. I think you would’ve enjoyed it.”

“By the sound of it, I think I would’ve too.”

“We were preparing for the next gathering when they attacked.”

When the word ‘they’ leaves his lips, he reacts by squeezing your hand harshly. Like before, no words follow after that. Maybe memories from that day enter his mind. Maybe he doesn’t know how to say it.

“My village had something similar to that as well.” You begin, “Instead of a celebration once a month, once a week we would have a gathering in our town square where anyone could join us. Not many guests stayed in our town, but they always joined in whenever the celebration happened. We, too, had loud music and a large feast. The vendors would still have their shops open. Couples would be dancing in the center as others socialized. The children always looked forward to that day of the week.”

Mando asks the same question that you asked earlier, “do you miss it?”

You nod your head, “I would give anything to experience that again. Everyday I would look forward to that night when I was a child. I think the closest thing I’ll ever get to experiencing that again was the celebration we had here after the battle.”

“I think there’s more to come in your future.”

“I don’t know. Maybe a peaceful life isn’t for me anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“A life with war is all I’ve ever known.”

“There’s so much more to life in the galaxy than war and death. It’s about the choices that you make. The relationships you make. The actions that you make last longer than a lifetime. What we’ve done for this village will be told for generations.”

A soft hum escapes from your lips as you ponder Mando’s words. You never thought of it like that before. Ever since your first home was taken from you, war is all you’ve known. You were introduced to the idea of peaceful negotiations at a young age, but violence always won the fight against peace.

“How old were you? When the Mandalorians took you in?”

“Not much older than they are.” He responds as he refers to the children who are just making their way out of their homes, with their parents following shortly after.

As you admire the villagers preparing for another day’s work, you don’t notice how the pad of Mando’s gloved hand runs gently against the upside of your hand, the light squeeze he gives your hand during the silent moment. The feeling of his hand in yours just seems so natural that it feels like it’s something you’ve always done.

“I-“ Mando is cut off by the sudden screams coming from inside the hut. The two of you immediately glance in the direction where it came from in response.

“Hold that thought. I’ll go get him.” You offer as you get up to leave, but not before giving his hand one more squeeze before you depart temporarily.

“Hey there, little guy.” Mando hears as you disappear inside the hut to tend to the baby. With his limited view, a smile is on Mando’s face as he hears both your voice and the baby’s laughs in the background. From where he’s sitting, he can’t see much. All that he can see is your frame bending over to pick up the baby from the crib the village so gracelessly lent you. Your back is towards him and all he can see is a baby blue blanket in your arms as you walk deeper in the hut. Probably to make sure everything with the kid is alright.

Mando doesn’t notice the small figure approaching him. He doesn’t see the plate of food they’re bringing him. The only thing that’s in his line of sight is you. Even an action as small as you wrapping the baby in your arms entices him. You could be doing something as simple as standing around and you would be able to easily get his attention.

Maybe he should check up on you, just to make sure you’re alright. The wound on your foot is long gone by this point, but maybe he should make sure nothing’s wrong.

Mando rises to his feet to check up on you but is interrupted by a light clearing of someone’s throat.

“Good morning.” A light and familiar feminine voice greets him. As he glances at the figure who has approached him, he sees Omera has begun her morning routine of greeting the two of you by bringing breakfast.

“Morning.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.”

Omera carefully places the plate of food on a nearby chair that resides on the porch of the hut. When she notices that only Mando is outside, she asks this outloud.

“Where’s the baby? I made him something that I think he will like.” She says.

“They’re both inside. The kid just woke up right before you arrived.”

“I see,” She hums, “will you let her know that I stopped by?”

“I will.”

“We both made plans for later this afternoon and I wanted to make sure she remembered.”

“She can be quite forgetful at times.” He comments with a slight chuckle.

“Yes, I have some experience with that. She was supposed to help us make lunch one afternoon but she slept through it and completely forgot.”

“That sounds like something she would do.”

Memories from that day flood through Mando’s head. That day only happened about a week after you guys arrived at the village, but you were so determined with making up your negligence that you ended up helping cook a meal that the village swore was the best they had in a long time. The giant grin never left your face that night.

“That’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her in a long time.” Mando says, mainly to himself, but Omera was able to hear it as well.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her upset since the three of you have joined us.”

‘Hopefully it can stay that way for a while.’ He thinks to himself.

Omera’s words are true. Ever since you arrived at the village, a new sense of happiness has taken over your body. Almost like a weight has been lifted in a way- like you’re more free. Mando’s only seen this side of you a handful of times on the Crest. Maybe it’ll become an everyday occurrence. Maybe every morning could begin with the two of you glancing at the clear sky as you reflect on whatever is on your minds. Maybe one day he can tell you about his first family- maybe even what life was like when the Mandalorians took him in all those years.

-and I hope you feel the same way.” Omera says as she brings him back from his thoughts.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I hope you feel the same way- as she does.” She repeats as the combination of your laughter and the baby’s rings in the air.

“I do. I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for her.”

“She means a lot to you.”

“Yes. She’s been a good friend all of the time I’ve known her.”

“It’s more than that. I see the way that you look at her- how your gaze never leaves even after she’s left, how relaxed you seem whenever you’re around her.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“I’m afraid so.” She responds as she lightly places a hand on his bicep, softly stroking the cloth material.

To an outsider, this moment may seem intimate, and in a way it is, but not in the way that it actually is. With how close they’ve gotten to each other, a stranger may see this as two lovers conversing, but Omera and Mando both know how wrong that statement would be. It’s not a romantic sentiment that’s being said, but an unspoken understanding. Like Omera knows how much you and Mando truly care for one another- how deep your feelings for each other go.

“I must seem like the biggest fool.” He says as his visor glances down at her.

“Not big enough for her to notice. She’s almost as blind as you.” Omera chuckles as her hand grazes down the length of his arm to encapsulate her hand in his. With their fingers intertwine, a warm feeling doesn’t appear in Mando’s belly, like how it always does whenever your body touches his. When Omera’s hand touches his, he gets a feeling of comfort, warmth, but in a different way that Mando feels when he touches you. After experiencing what he has with you, nothing can ever compare to that feeling that he gets when your hands touch.

“Hey, Mando, what was it that you were going to-“ You’re cut off by the sight you’re greeted with when you exit the hut.

When you peek your head around the corner with the baby in your arms, you expected to find Mando still sitting by your feet, not holding hands with the friendly woman he’s been spending a lot of time with recently. When he’s not around you, he’s always around Omera. He always seems happier around her, more free, like he’s finally able to be his true self. In all of the time you’ve known him, you’ve managed to get him to lower his guard only recently- months after you met. Omera was able to do it within a handful of weeks.

It seems like the woman in front of him has his complete attention, like all of time has stopped for them, because your presence seems to have gone unnoticed by them. Omera has one of her hands on Mando’s cuirass as her other hand is

encapsulated with his hand with the biggest grins being on both of their faces.

Omera is the first one to notice your sudden appearance as her hands leave your partner’s as she acknowledges you by saying your name and giving you the same greeting as she did with Mando.

“Good morning, I brought you guys breakfast.” She says as she refers to the plate of food that’s sitting behind her, “it’s your favorite.”

“Th- that’s very kind. Thank you.” You force the words out of your mouth.

“It’s no trouble at all. Please, let me know if there’s anything that you need before lunch.” She says as she begins to walk away from the three of you, but not before she turns back around, “don’t forget about our plans later!”

As you look at her figure getting smaller and smaller, you see how the smile has never left her face. Her complete focus is on a villager that has managed to catch her attention.

The pit in your stomach stays in its place. It’s not her fault for the way you feel. It’s not her fault that your heart sunk to the bottom of your stomach when you saw how close they were to each other.

It’s only taken her a few weeks to make your partner fall head over heels for her while it has taken you nearly half a rotation for you to even make him comfortable enough around you. After a week or so, Mando’s guard was able to be let down when he saw how gentle she was with children, including the green little baby you brought.

It took you almost as long to be comfortable around the Mandalorian as well, so it’s not his fault that he’s unaware of the feelings you hold for him, but it doesn’t make it any easier for you when you see them together. How easily things clicked between the two of them when they met. How much they trusted each other with their problems. How carefree and relaxed they both seem around each other.

“You alright, ruusaan?” Mando asks as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, fine.” You say as you force a tight-lipped smile on your face, “you should probably eat. Who knows what the day will entail.”

“I’ll eat later. You should-“

The baby in your arms suddenly starts squirming. His feet eventually touch the floor as he begins running as he possibly can to the children who have begun playing a game where they run around the grassy area that resides next to the various huts.

“I’ll go after him. Please, eat.” You say as you quickly make your way over to where the baby ran off to.

The only sound in the hut that can be heard is echoing of your knives colliding with the cutting board. Omera had approached you earlier, asking if you would help her prepare lunch for the village and you had said ‘yes.’ You’re not exactly sure what you’re helping prepare, but Omera was right, cooking lunch for the village helps take your mind off of things. She noticed how lost in your thoughts you were and suggested to preoccupy yourself to distract yourself.

When you were by yourself earlier, everything that happened this morning played on repeat in your mind. From the moment you shared with your partner to finding him holding hands with Omera, the knot in your stomach reappeared as you became lost in your thoughts. Maybe you were reading way too into everything. Maybe Mando didn’t see the significance in the conversations you’ve been having lately. Maybe-

“It isn’t what you think.” The sounds of chopping suddenly stops.

“I’m sorry?”

“What you saw earlier between me and Mando, it’s not not what it looked like.”

“He’s happier around you, happier than he ever could be with me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“He seems more at home around you.”

“What we have- it’s different.”

“How so?”

“It’s- we have a mutual understanding.”

“Because of the kids.”

“Yes.”

You don’t say anything in response. You know that ever since Mando laid eyes on the child, he had an unspoken connection with him. You also had a connection with the baby, but it was different for Mando. The kid was able to put him on a new path.

“But it’s also more than that.” Omera begins, “it’s like knowing that someone else understands what you’ve gone through.” Her words ring true, “like nothing has to be said in order for you two to understand each other.”

A soft ‘yeah’ leaves your lips as you continue to take in her words. You don’t know if it was intentional or not, but her words describe the relationship the both of you have with Mando.

Unspoken words exchanged between the two of you have always been the type of relationship you’ve had. You thought him opening up to you recently meant that your relationship was heading in a different direction but maybe you were wrong. Maybe he still sees you as his business partner and Omera as someone who he could have a future with, someone who could make him truly happy. If she can, then you know that there’s nothing that you could do about it, no matter how much it aches your heart.

You have to know if she feels the same way.

“Do you love him?”

The first words that leave her mouth breaks your heart, even more if that were possible.

“Yes, I do, but not in that way. I care for him deeply but not in the same way you do.”

“It’s alright if you. He deserves to be happy, to be at peace.”

“He won’t be if you aren’t around.” Your head tilts to the side in confusion, “don’t tell him I told you this, but you’re the only reason why he’s been so happy lately.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating. There must-“

“I’m not. Those were his exact words.”

“Oh.”

“He cares for you deeply. He just, shows it in different ways with different people is all. He shows the way he cares for you in a different way that he cares about me, or the village, or the baby.”

“Doesn’t show it around me.” You mumble underneath your breath.

“He does, you just haven’t caught it yet. Just give him time, he’ll come around, eventually.”

“I must be the biggest fool. I wasn’t even able to catch on.”

“He said that too.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We should probably get back to work. We have a village to feed.”

With that, the silence from before returns. The only sound that can be heard is your knives colliding with the cutting board as you cut the fresh vegetables. Unlike before, preparing food doesn’t help take your mind off of things. Before you didn’t have to worry about your anxieties. Before none of your worrying thoughts crossed your mind. But now, all of your thoughts from this morning and the conversation you just had with Omera can’t seem to leave your mind.

Before, your anxieties were mainly about the possibility of having to go on without your partner, about the possibility of his future staying with the village, but now the thoughts that enter your mind are completely different. You thought Mando had cared for Omera on a much different level, only for her to correct your anxieties. Now, you don’t know what to think. You thought Mando only cared for you as a partner, maybe even a friend, but the conversation you had with Omera tells you otherwise. When she first told you this, your heart soared, but as you reflect, fear strikes in you. Whenever you get close with someone, the galaxy always manages to strip them from you.

Tears brim your eyes without your realization. The piece of food you’re chopping is neglected by you. You were preoccupied reflecting on the time you spent with Mando before arriving on Sorgan and how you could’ve lost him multiple times, from risking his life to rescuing the child on Nevarro to protecting the small town on Banesh. You could’ve lost him when the two of you were separated and you wouldn’t have known. Even though you’ve known him for a short period of time, your life has changed so much ever since you met Mando.

Sudden pain runs through your system. A light gasp leaves your lips when you glance down at your hand, only to find that your finger is covered in blood. The knife that’s in your grasp has a light layer of blood covered on the blade.

“Kriff.”

“It’ll be fine. We’ll get you fixed up.” Omera says as she stops her actions as she glances down at your injury. The cut on your finger isn’t bad, not that deep, but blood keeps leaking out.

“I’m fine. We should finish lunch first.”

“I’ll finish lunch later, we need to get you all fixed up first.”

With her arms wrapped around you, Omera slowly begins guiding you out of the hut to get you the help you need.

“-so we were trapped there for the remaining time we were stationed there. It wasn’t ideal, but we made it work.” Cara concludes her story.

While you were occupied with Omera’s presence, Mando was accompanied with Cara’s. The ex-shock trooper was currently recollecting one of her many war stories from over the years. One of the main reasons why the two warriors got on so well was because of their experiences with the war. The two will often recall some memories from over the years and this is no exception. However, when Cara was finishing up her story, something caught Mando’s eye. He saw your slouched figure exiting out of the hut he saw you enter earlier, only now Omera’s arm is around you as the two of you walk through the village.

Mando can vaguely hear Cara’s voice as she asks some sort of question, but he can’t seem to focus on her as his full attention is on you. His mind fears for the worst as he sees your figure get smaller and smaller by the second. Were you hurt? Did something happen to you? Maybe he should check up on you to make sure you’re okay.

Cara notices something’s wrong when Mando’s visor goes from glancing at her to glancing

somewhere else for a long time. His visor doesn’t even move an inch- something else obviously grabbed his attention. When Cara looks in the same direction as him, she finally understands why.

“I’m sure she’s alright. She has Omera by her side.”

“Maybe I should-“ Mando immediately gets up from his comfortable position of leaning against the exterior of the hut to go check up on you, but before he’s able to do so, a little creature attaches itself to his boot. When he glances down, he sees that the green little baby that has entered his life recently has a vice tight grip on the leather of his boot. When he grabs the baby in his arms and holds him like you taught him to all those weeks ago, his chances of finding you are gone when he can no longer see your figure.

“How did you guys even meet?” Cara asks.

“He’s a bounty that we picked up-“

“No, not him, her. You two seem nothing alike. How did you manage to find someone like her?”

“She literally crossed into my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“She threatened to kill me when we first met.”

Today seemed like any other day for Mando. He had just recently returned back to Nevarro to turn in the bounties he had just collected and was waiting for his next job. Greef was currently congratulating Mando for his success and telling him all about a possible bounty. Several fobs have been given out for this individual and no Guild members have been successful in bringing them back. When no one is successful, Greef knows that he can rely on Mando to get the job done.

“This bounty has been giving my hunters a particularly hard time. From what I can tell, they’re easily able to hunt them down, but when they arrive at the given location, the bounty has been able to get out of their graseasily and then makes another escape- that’s where you come in. The person who put a bounty on their head isn’t too pleased with how long it’s taken and-“

Suddenly, a knife is at Mando’s throat.

“What is he doing here?!” A feminine voice from behind Mando asks.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up!” Greef says as he lets out a few chuckles. The knife only gets closer and closer to Mando’s throat, but luckily his layers of clothing gives him more protection to prevent any damage, “I have a job for the two of you.”

Even when the two of you met just moments ago, you’re already able to read each other’s minds by saying, “I work alone.”

Greef chuckles once again, “well, this is a job that I need two of my best hunters on. You two need to work together on this.”

Once again, it’s like you two can read each other’s minds. When you respond with, ‘I’m not working with him,’ Mando responds with, ‘I’m not working with her.’

Greef lets out a sigh as he calls out your name, “please, sit. Let me explain.”

Though hesitantly, you do. You drop the knife from Mando’s throat as you secure it in its rightful place. Mando lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in. He wasn’t afraid of what you were going to do to him, but something about you made him lose his breath. He scoots over to the other side of the seat so that you could join him. You do, but your irritation of the whole situation only reflects in your words.

You’re thigh-to-thigh with him. If either of you were to move an inch away from each other, then a part of your behind would be off of the seat.

“Could you scoot over, Mandalorian? I need my personal space.”

“And special treatment.” He mutters underneath his breath. If you two weren’t so close, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it.

“What did you just say?!” You ask as you look in the ‘T’ visor that you would get used to seeing on a daily basis one day.

“I think you heard me.” Mando responds.

“Guys, please-“ Greef tries to get your attention but the two of you are already not seeing eye-to-eye even when you just met a minute ago.

“At least I don’t see myself as higher than everyone else.” You snark.

“At least I don’t scream to get attention.”

“You know, I’ve always heard that Mandalorians are cold and ruthless killers and I never believed it, but I think I’m starting to.”

“Guys!” Greef tries to get your attention again.

“You know what, I can’t work underneath these conditions. I’m sorry, but I’m out.”

You get up to leave and hear Mando mutter something underneath his breath while Greef just says your name in a pleading tone.

“If you’re able to catch this bounty, you’ll see a reward bigger than you’ve ever seen before.”

You open your mouth to ask the question that pops up in your mind, but for the third time that day, Mando says the very thought that you think of.

“Why so high?” He asks.

“Besides from my hunters being unsuccessful, I’m assuming the bounty pissed off the wrong people. Can I count on the two of you?”

The bounty doesn’t seem that hard. Mando has already made up his mind but he doesn’t want to force you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, even though the pair of you were just at each other’s throats a few seconds ago.

Mando’s visor turns from glancing at Greef to looking at you- the first of many times he will silently ask for your approval of a bounty the two of you would take on.

You don’t look over at Mando. You just huff out a deep breath as you snatch up the bounty puck.

“Fine. Let’s go, partner.”

“We were able to catch the bounty at one point, but there were a few altercations that blew our cover.”

“Let me guess: it was because of her?”

“Yes.”

“She’s always been one to speak whatever is on her mind.”

“Yes.”

“She’s brave, I’ll give her that.”

“She’s always been the one to do what others wouldn’t dare to. No one in the Guild ever talked to me. They were too afraid to. No one would’ve been able to say half of the things she’s said to me. She always says what’s on her mind. It’s one of the things I-“

Mando cuts himself off. His next words were on the tip of his tongue, saying his next words would’ve been so natural, but he can’t say them outloud. Not yet at least. If he ever does speak them, he wants you to hear them first, not Cara.

“You what?”

“Nothing.”

Just like that, the subject is dropped and silence falls between them. The little one wrapped up in Mando’s arms gently grabs at his sleeve as his little fingers point in the direction ahead of them. When Mando’s visor glances in that direction, he sees that Omera has made her way out of one of the huts briefly before making her way back inside.

Cara sees this too because she urges him to go, “Go. I’ll watch over him.”

Mando nods his helmet in appreciation at her as he begins to make his way where he just saw Omera’s figure moments ago.

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @unstoppableforcce @remmysbounty @ayamenimthiriel @randomness501 @itspauvr @sarahjkl82-blog @mostclevermiss @seninjakitey @altarsw @bookloverfilmoholic @welcometothepedroverse

#hi we're FINALLY getting somewhere #its about damn time am i right #anyways heres some ~soft~ with some angst bc i suck at angst and i wanna try to get better lol #enjoy #wopc #my writing #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x ofc #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x oc #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader

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twilitty · 3 years

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Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

taglist:

@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

#twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #jasper #the twilight saga #carlisle #twilight saga #smeyer #2008 #twilight renaissance #bella/jacob #jacob/bella #jacobxbella #bellaxjacob #fanfic #fanfiction #twilight fanfic #mine

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puddygeeks · 4 years

Text

Dusk Till Dawn - Dragon Age Inquisition - Cullen/Inquisitor

Masterlist

Rating: Suitable for all

A/N: This is actually my first ever piece of writing from the perspective of an existing character, especially a male so cut me some slack whilst I experiment with this new venture. I also do not tend to write in the 3rd person, so this piece has been a learning curve for me. However, I felt hugely inspired to write a fluffy piece about my fluffy boy, so enjoy! Let me know if you’d like to see more DA based content from me in future.

Summary: Commander Cullen struggles to maintain a professional, working relationship with the Inquisition’s fearless leader. As the realisation dawns on him that his thoughts linger on her, he begins to question whether the feeling is mutual.

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Lavellan

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Perhaps some mild spoilers?

Standing across the war table, hand placed comfortably on the hilt of his sword, Commander Cullen focused on remaining professional.

Their fearless leader assigned missions and plotted political manoeuvres that would shape the very fabric of all the Kingdoms in Thedas. Despite being plucked from relative obscurity, she rose to this responsibility as if made for it and led the rapidly growing Inquisition with grace and wisdom.

Without warning, her large, almond shaped eyes met his and he felt his very spirit stir at the subtle connection between them. Buried in the deep hue of her eyes, he could always sense some hidden power that was disguised by her petite frame and seemingly harmless appearance.

He felt himself fidget on the spot, an involuntary movement that had escaped his carefully controlled facade and he noticed a slight smile lurking in the corners of her mouth.

There was a hint of playfulness in the way that she viewed him, he thought, before she swept from the chamber, leaving it notably colder by her absence. Surely he must have been mistaken. She was an icon, a force of nature in the crumbling world and would never view him as anything more than her lieutenant.

“My, my. Are you blushing, Commander?”

Leliana’s sickly sweet voice drifted from his side, tainting the drafty space with her sly implications.

It was not the first time that suggestions of this nature had been made about him, but each time caused him to bristle with embarrassment in a manner that was entirely more revealing than intended. He made a sound that almost resembled a scoff at the absurdity of her statement, but it strangely combined with an awkward splutter that filled the bard’s usually pale face with a smug satisfaction.

“I do believe you may be correct, Leliana. Our dearest Commander certainly does seem rather flustered. Why, I could not possibly suggest a cause for such a reaction.” Josephine taunted, her words coated in a barely concealed enthusiasm as she studied him over the top of her papers.

Cullen cleared his throat in a joyless bid to regain some composure, as his colleagues gazed past him at each other with mischief gleaming in their eyes.

“Surely you both have other matters to attend to? Nobles to pamper, or spies to train?” He countered, a poignant lack of authority in his voice, as the women crossed their arms and met his suggestions with a blatant disdain.

The Inquisitor inspired courage and determination in the recruits, each viewing her as a symbol of hope and light in the darkness. For Cullen, however, she was a constant distraction and a trigger for his most regretful, tense behaviours.

As time passed, he found that he was able to recognise traits within her that others were blind to. He was stunned by the depth of her kindness towards him. Regardless of the shame that he felt when presenting his issues with addiction for her judgement, he was always met with understanding and compassion. These were new experiences for Cullen and the emotions that they provoked in him were completely unexplored territory.

On the battlements of Skyhold, he embarked on his regular stroll to examine and assess their sustainability, when an unfamiliar sight caused him to pause in his tracks. Standing by the edge, staring out into the mountains with an intense expression was the Inquisitor, clearly deeply lost in thought.

She didn’t seem to notice Cullen’s arrival, as her gloved hands gripped onto the stone wall and he recognised that the usual strength that radiated from her was absent. In what she believed to be a solitary moment, her defences were lowered and she had allowed herself an opportunity to be vulnerable.

Cullen felt awkward witnessing this, feeling the familiar sensation of invading upon a sacred space as he’d often experienced throughout his youth in the Chantry.

“Are you going to stand and stare all day, or would you prefer to join me, Commander?”

His stomach churned as her words cut through the tense silence and she turned to glance at him over her shoulder with a gentle smile. He blanched at her casual offer, feeling pressure compressing his chest and she returned to her pondering, blissfully unaware of the nerves that her presence summoned in him.

“I apologise, my lady. It was not my intention to intrude, nor to stare.” He managed to force the words out through the block in his throat, but as they left his mouth, he acknowledged the deeply ingrained formality in the way that he addressed her. She smiled fondly at nothing in particular.

There was a stifling atmosphere as he realised that there was not another soul in sight and inwardly, he scolded himself for not recognising the absence of guards earlier. He knew that they had likely already shifted their positions out of respect, to allow her a moment of peace and he felt embarrassed at his perceived social blunder.

“You’re not intruding. You don’t need to tiptoe around me, you know. I don’t bite.” She commented idly and Cullen tightened his grip on his sword in stress.

The instances of flirtatious remarks were mounting, an overpowering suggestion in his already cluttered mind and each new addition increased his difficulty in denying their presence. They were an ever present force, haunting him at all hours of the day with their desire to be acknowledged. He pushed it away, desperately pleading with his heart to allow him to remain focused and appropriate. The Inquisitor regarded him with an amused disbelief, as he remained at his cautious distance.

“Do you ever simply stop patrolling, or working, and allow yourself a few moments of peace? Our surroundings are idyllic. It’s wasteful not to appreciate them.” She urged, gesturing for him to join her and, unable to deny her request for a second time, he reluctantly marched over to her side with his legs feeling as heavy as led.

The view from the battlements was breath-taking, but it was difficult to fully realise it’s wonder beside the simple splendour of her beauty. She sighed wistfully, the pleasant sound causing a flutter in his stomach and he relished the circumstances that allowed him to witness her in a more relaxed state than he’d ever been entrusted with in the past.

Surrounded by snowy mountains and without the usual bustle of demands pressing against them, the silence was no longer tense and Cullen allowed his shoulders to gradually lower into a comfortable slouch.

“We filled this empty shell with purpose and belief.” She began, breaking the silence in a sour manner.

“The halls are bustling with people determined to bring change to our world and the courtyard has become a home to the faithful. Undeterred by all theories to the contrary, we’ve proven it possible to unite mages and templars against a common enemy, under a single, inclusive banner that fights for the freedom of all.” She detailed, as she listed achievements that should have filled her voice with pride, but instead the words rang hollow and her tone remained lacklustre.

Cullen was unnerved by her raw, unenthusiastic demeanour that existed in stark contrast to the invigorating personality that she displayed in the company of her comrades.

“And yet, at the head of this mighty cause is a single elf. Inquisitor Lavellan. Despite all of the titles, followers and respect, I am still merely a Dalish with a strange light imbued in my palm. My value is awarded as a result of missing memories that humans have interpreted as a symbol of divine intervention. Tell me, Commander Cullen, what certainty can you possess that I am worthy of such duty?” Lavellan turned to face him, her eyes alight with a storm of emotions that blazed from the inside and he was lost under the intensity of her doubt.

Words failed him as he floundered in search of an answer that could provide her with the peace that she so desperately desired.

In his heart, he knew that his belief in her was greater than any other within this fortress, or indeed all Thedas itself. He knew that if he allowed himself to be honest, he could list all of the admirable qualities that he had long admired about the awe-worthy being before him.

Regretfully, his terror of unveiling the depth of his devotion prevented him from granting her with honesty. Instead, he beheld her with a barely concealed state of adoration and she sighed in disappointment.

“I’m sorry. I’ve posed a question that you couldn’t possibly answer. I suppose I should know better than to burden others with my own insecurities.” She excused, turning her face from him with an unsatisfied void in her eyes that would remain with him for as long as he lived.

The cool, crisp air tore through the gaps in their defences, carrying the loose sections of her silver hair out behind her like wings and only exaggerated her appearance to him as some kind of ethereal being.

As his gaze explored her features, he noticed that her nose and cheeks glowed in a delicate shade of pink that spread to the tips of her gracefully pointed ears and he wondered how long she had been standing here, allowing her exposed skin to grow cold. He ached to lighten her burden, to remove the knot that formed between her brows as she battled the responsibilities that threatened to crush her beneath their weight and against his better judgement, his answer began to flow freely from his lips.

“In all of my years as a templar, I have followed leaders of many different titles. Each of them possessed their own approach, their own qualities that influenced their choices and shaped their time in power.” He recounted, uncertain of the confessions that might escape his lips as he spoke without restraint.

“Never have I known any other to rise from the ashes as you have, nor for the people to elect them with such fervent belief. They follow you with unshakable faith, as do I, not because of your origins, your race or your rumoured holiness. They follow because of your decisions, because you lead with a grace and wisdom that comes from deep within and is unique to your formidable soul.”

“You are the Inquisitor not because of the anchor that you wield, but because there is no other who could fulfil this duty as you have. You are indisputably, unfathomably, exceptionally more than ‘merely a Dalish’, Lady Lavellen.” He spoke with conviction and with every shred of reasoning, he observed her becoming increasingly humbled by his confession.

Of course, Cullen knew her name, but he wouldn’t dare to address her by it, believing that it disrespected her journey and consequent struggles to earn the title which she now held. Her eyes grew wide and it was clear that she was shocked by the passion of his words, whilst he waited in a terror ridden state, fearing that he had absolutely revealed too much.

“It is incomprehensible to me that you are capable of such earnest insight into others, whilst believing yourself to be scarcely more than a failed ex-templar.” She surveyed him with a sympathetic, yet frustrated expression and as often would occur in her company, Cullen found himself lost for words.

When under her gaze, he felt unworthy of the praise that she often bestowed upon him and could not fathom her unwavering faith in him. Even when he had suggested that Cassandra replace him, Lavellan refused to allow him to relinquish his position and insisted that he could defeat his demons to abstain from the use of lyrium once and for all. There was no doubt in his mind that she made him a better person, but in spite of all his improvement, he still could not even begin to imagine himself as deserving of her fondness.

Lavellan turned from the wall to face him fully, closing the distance between them until she was nearer than he’d ever had cause to be. In such proximity, he could smell the natural scent of flowers and herbs on her skin, admired the sun that glinted in her eyes and his face flushed with a heat that exposed his exhilaration.

For longer than he could ever truly admit, he had laid awake at night, imagining what a privilege it would be to touch her, but he would never be so bold as to attempt such a sin. Involuntarily, he gulped as she pouted her plump lips thoughtfully and his heart pounded with such intensity that he felt concerned that it could cease to function at any given moment.

She leaned forward at a painfully gradual pace and had to shift her balance onto her toes in order to reach him. With ice tinted lips, she placed a single delicate kiss on his cheek, contrasting sharply with the burning of his skin.

Instead of immediately moving away she lingered there, her breath tickling his neck as her mouth brushed his ear.

“Your faith extinguishes my fear, unlike any other.” She whispered, her words burning into Cullen’s mind like a brand from an iron that could never be compromised.

All of his senses seemed to be intensified, as he committed every minute detail to memory for fear that this experience may not occur more than once. When she leaned back into his field of vision, her features glowed with fondness and he simply gawped at her in amazement.

“You put my heart at ease, Cullen. Thank you.” She admitted with a relaxed sigh and without a further word, or any indication that she would explain the meaning behind this statement, she parted from him.

As Lavellan’s delicate steps echoed down the stone staircase, Cullen remained rooted to the spot, obsessively analysing the conversation and wondering if he’d perhaps misunderstood. Perhaps the mountain of comments in his mind that he’d long considered to be indulgent, self-delusion had accumulated into something more significant than he’d ever dared to imagine.

#dragon age #Inquisition #dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquistor #lavellan #inquisitor lavellan #bioware #cullen #cullen rutherford #commander cullen #fanfiction #fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #cullen fanfiction #cullen rutherford fanfiction #inquisition fanfiction #cullen x lavellan #cullen x inquisitor #bioware fanfiction

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grimoire-of-thirst · 4 years

Text

Gauze, band-aids, and a drop of Love

Request: Hello there, man i love your blog OwO I’m really curious how William would react when his s/o would take care of him after he comes back injured from a mission or something. Like, he never got to experience care cause of his family yaknow, and i can’t really imagine what he would do or say. So may i request a scenario about it? ❤️ Sorry if this sounds weird lmao, ily

Genre&Warnings: Fluff, mention of blood, yandere-ish themes, light little space, insta-romance (’cause why not),

Tags: none

✩:✩:✩

Despite being in pain, despite all the wounds and cuts that were littered on his body, William was calmly walking toward his room. He was able to hide most of the blood that was on his clothes, and once he knew he was alone, he took a moment to rest against the wall. His body was tired, head-spinning at all the blood he lost, while the wounds were hurting.

He had put his comrade’s needs above his own, asking Mimosa to take care of Yuno and Klaus, instead of treating him. It wasn’t anything new, he always made sure that the members of his brigade were properly treated, so he had nothing to do but to treat his injuries once he'd reach the safety of his room.

However, there was one thing that William had not predicted, and that was a stranger, a face he had never seen before, running toward him and offering support. His sight wasn't in the best condition, due to all the fatigue, and his body had no strength left, so the only thing he could make out of this person was the shape of the face and the length of the hair. William tried to stand on his own, stubborn on not letting that person see him, the Captain of the Golden Dawn, so weak, but he failed, losing his balance and relying on the strength of the other person, which luckily caught him and was now struggling to keep him up and not fall on the ground.

"Oh my! Alright! It's fine! I can- I can help you! Where's your room?" from the sweetness of the voice, and softness of the body, it was clear to William that whoever was helping him was a woman, and this made him feel even more guilty. Someone, who had less strength than him, was willingly offering to look after him. Burdening someone with his problems was not something he was enthusiastic about.

“I apologize, this is highly inappropriate of me… You can let me-“

“Nope! You’re bleeding for god’s sake! Everyone is asleep by now, I will attend your wounds just tell me where your room is!” you insisted, turning around and adjusting his arms around your neck. You crouched down, arms circling the back of his knees, and with all the strength your body possessed, you forced him up, bringing both of his legs at your sides for easier carriage. William was taken aback. Never, no one had ever shown him such promptness on helping others.

“Alright, big boy, guide me toward your den!” you said, adding a note of cheerfulness to alleviate the gloom that you felt radiating off of his body. William gently scoffed, amused by the choice of words, and, despite trying to not rely too much on you, he let his chin rest in the crook of your neck. He was far too exhausted to stop you.

“The second door on the right” he mumbled, scrunching up his nose when one of his wounds started bleeding again. He didn’t care much if his clothes got dirtier, they were already soaked in blood, but he felt bad for the stranger that was carrying him. Blood will surely seep through your clothes as well, and another sheer of guild washed through him.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled softly.

“About what?” you asked, trying to get the door open. With your hands being busy at keeping him up, getting a hold of the handle was proved to be far more challenging than you originally expected, but William was quick to help you out, pressing on it and pushing it wide open.

“Your clothes. Blood will stain-”

“Aaah… Don’t worry about them!” you said, flashing a small smile before focusing on putting him on the bed as gently as possible. Maneuvering through the dark was not on your best qualities list, but the light that was coming through the halls was helping you a lot, showing you where the bed was. After making sure that he was comfortably seated, you turned around, flicking on the lights. Then, you began to take his cape off, along with the top of his uniform.

William just stood there, trying to adjust his eyes to the light and make out most of your facial features. If you were helping him, he at least wanted to know how you looked like, so in the future, he could repay you for the kindness you were showing him.

“Don’t force your sight. Right now, all you need is to get a bath, get your wounds cleaned and patched, and lots of sleep. You lost a lot of blood, your body is tattered in bruises and cuts that are still bleeding, forcing yourself to do something will only worsen your state.” You said, voice soft as if you were talking to a baby. William was, once again, surprised. The softness of the tone you used, along with the gentle way you were taking care of him, was overwhelming. It was a first to him.

All his life no one cared about his well-being. His parents were never lovely toward him, never showing him an ounce of love, or something that could resemble affection. Yet, there you were, a total stranger, caring for him more than anyone had ever done in his entire life. He could argue that there was his squad, everyone in the Golden Dawn cared for him, but none of them ever talked to him with such kindness when in pain.

The longer he looked at you, attending his bruises with such care, the more he felt… weird. He couldn’t properly describe the feeling, but it was making him all giddy. His stomach too felt funny, but it was pleasant.

"Hands up," you said. William did as you said, albeit with a little bit of struggle due to the pain that he was feeling. As you removed his undershirt, which had some patches of blood, William felt heat rushing to his cheeks, warming them up. He was now half-naked, in front of a stranger -woman on top of that- and he couldn’t avoid feeling embarrassed.

You took a brief moment to examine all the bruises and cuts, huffing once you understood that his legs too were probably scarred. It seemed that it was going to be a long night.

“Where is the bathroom?” you asked, gathering all his clothes into a pile. William pointed to a door right next to his desk, mumbling a small ‘Over there’. He didn’t mean to sound so weak, almost childish, but there was something about you, and the way you were behaving with him, that made him feel safe.

You gave him a quick nod, before taking the clothes in your arm and moving toward the pointed door, pushing it open with your hip. After dumping the garments on the floor, you moved toward the bathtub, letting the warm water run and half-filling it. You checked the soap that was on the side, making sure that it didn’t have any chemicals that could burn or infect his wounds, and then looked around for a rug to use.

You finally found one in one of the cabinets and put it on the side of the tub. Quickly, you moved back to where you left him, and gently grabbed his arm, helping him up.

“C’mon big boy! Time to get you cleaned up!” you said, putting his arm on your shoulder while your right one kept him up. William hummed, letting you drag him toward the bathroom.

“What is your name?”

“Y/n, you can sue me later for invasion of privacy, but now get naked and hop in the tub!” you said, taking the rug and soaking it in the mild water. Meanwhile, William stood there for a moment before finally kicking off his boots, socks, and pants. He left his underwear on -even if he was dizzy, he still felt embarrassed at the idea of being naked in front of a stranger-. He put one of his hands on your shoulder, looking for balance while getting in the tub, and promptly, you helped him sit in the water.

As soon as he sat, you began to clean the blood that was on his body, paying special attention to the wounds, thoroughly cleaning the edges. Then, you added a little bit of soap and began to gently scrub off the remaining blood on his arm. The warmth of the water that was surrounding his aching body, along with the lulling touches that you gently used to clean him, was making him feel sleepy. It felt like he was being pampered, and this feeling of safety that he was experiencing with you, made him realize how much he liked it, how much he craved for such motherly touch that he never had the honor to experience.

This, this was how his mother should have been. This is how he should’ve been when he was a kid. This was what William wanted all along, and nobody had ever offered it to him. His own family disregarded him, abused him, used him only for his magic, and there you were, a total stranger, taking care of him like he was a child.

This feeling of safety and care was something that was growing on him in such a short time, and it truly surprised him. The only frustrating thing, was the inability of his eyes on focusing, to see who was healing him. He knew, right ahead, that in the future he'll seek for that person, he knew he was growing attached to a stranger, but he couldn't find the wrong in that. You were the first person that showed him genuine care, the first person to ever show him what physical affection truly felt like… because that was physical affection, right?

Soft, velvety touches, healing someone's wounds with such care, talking to someone in pain with such a gentle and tender voice, the calm, pleasant smile you were showing him… those were signs of affection… right?

William was a stranger to that feeling. The notion of love, affection, care, and the likes were unknown to him. Since he was a child the only things that he ever cared for were his trees, birds, Patri and his comrades. He always felt like he was the one in charge of protecting all those things, but he never got to experience someone else protecting him, keeping him safe, healing his pain, helping him when nobody was there for him. It was new, it was nice, it made him want for those feelings to always be there with him, because he too was human, and like any other, he wanted to feel loved and cared for. And here you were, unknowingly fulfilling his deepest desire.

“Turn around so I can clean your back too. And if something hurts don’t hesitate to tell me, alright?” you said, gently pushing him around. William hummed, complying with your request while feeling his cheeks burn at the tenderness you spoke with. He stayed in silence, listening to your soft breaths while also focusing on the feeling of the rug stroking his back. Then he heard how you dipped the rag into the water before rinsing his back, removing all the foam that was left on his back before moving on his hair.

William closed his eyes, a tired smile gracing his lips as you washed his hair, soft pads massaging his scalp and making sure that he was properly cleaned. He reopened them after a couple of minutes when you tapped his shoulder to gain his attention. He was still in a daze when turning around to look at you, and once again you were smiling at him, making his heart skip a beat.

“Get up, I have to dry you” he did as you said, and soon enough you were patting his body dry with a towel, applying light pressure on the edge of his wounds.

“Listen, this will sound awkward, but you have to put on a new pair of underwear. Those are soaked, and you can’t sleep like that. Now, you can tell me where you keep your clothes, I’ll bring you the underwear, and then you can change.” You said, throwing the dirty clothes in the tub. You’d clean them later, now all you wanted was to treat his wounds and put him to sleep. “I’ll give you all the privacy you need, don’t worry” you added, flashing him another sweet smile.

William looked around the bathroom and tried to go and retrieve his night garments from his room, but his head spun, making his lose his balance, and quickly brought a hand up, resting it on the wall to avoid a nasty fall.

“I said I’ll bring it to you! Don’t be stubborn and let me help you!” you pleaded, promptly moving toward him and help him sit on a nearby surface. William mumbled something that you didn’t get, and it was clear that he was far too tired to form any coherent sentences, so you just went ahead and dug into his wardrobe. After a couple of minutes, you finally found them in the last drawer, and after also getting what looked like his nightwear (you hoped they were), you went back to him and put them on the free space near the sink.

You had said that he can change them by himself, but seeing how weak he was, and how he could barely stand on his own feet, it seemed that, again, you’ll have to do all the job.

“Alright,” you exhaled, hooping your finger under the elastic band of his underwear. You adverted your eyes up on the ceiling, praying to whatever God was assisting you, to not touch anything that wasn’t supposed to be touched. “Please, bear with me, it will be quick.” And just like that, you pulled them down in a swift motion. Moving quickly to grab the new pair, you found it slightly difficult to put them on, especially when you couldn't see how you were putting them, but William helped, turning them around in the right direction and successfully slid them on.

After making sure that he was covered, you looked through the cabinets, soon finding an antibiotic ointment to put on his wounds. After playing a thin layer on every single cut that was on his body, you wrapped some gauze around the bigger wounds, while covering the smaller ones with the band-aids you found into the same cabinet.

The whole process took you twenty minutes, and once you were sure that all the injuries were taken care of, you helped him putting his nightwear on. William had one hand placed on your shoulder, keeping him up-straight while you slid up his pants. Tiredness was ranging through his bones, and he found himself completely laying over you, and fortunately, you were able -albeit with a little bit of struggle- to bring him to his bed.

By now, William was asleep, while you were stretching your arms and back. You were tired, and after an entire day of work, taking care of a knight wasn’t something you had planned, but here you were, tucking the young man under the softness of the covers. Today, was by far your most tiring day of work, and you weren’t done yet.

Yes, the man was cleaned, injuries bandaged and now sleeping, but you still had to take care of the clothes. And damn, those bloodstains would be a hassle. You took one last look at the man, proudly smiling at all your work before disappearing into the bathroom.

✩:✩:✩

The next day, when William woke up, the first thing he noticed was the smell of cinnamon that was lingering around his room.

Opening his eyes, he looked around, taking notice of the steamy cup of tea, along with some sweets that were resting on the nightstand. They were steamy too, and he thought that maybe they were freshly baked and someone must have come to bring them to him.

The first person he thought of was you, and to his disappointment, he noticed that all his mind could make out was a blurred face. The only things he remembered were your voice, your touch, and your name. Under normal circumstances, he'd think that it was a dream, a beautiful one, but the gauze and band-aids were there, and also his uniform, that the night before was soaked in dirt and blood, was now neatly folded on his desk.

Today, aside from all the work he'll have to do, William will also try to find out who you were. Hopefully, you were a part of his brigade, and this will make it easier to find you. However, he knew almost everyone, and no one had, in particular, stood out to him. No one had remotely the same vocal timbre as yours, and he was pretty good at identifying people by their voices.

He rose from the bed, carefully taking the cup of tea with both hands, and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the warm beverage. Then, he ate one brioche, humming at the sweetness. Both were good, and once again, he believed that you were the one that left them there. If his intuition was right, then he’ll have more reasons to get closer to you.

After finishing his breakfast, he got up and moved toward his desk. He started removing his nightwear, then, put on his uniform. He looked around, noticing that his helmet was nowhere to be found. A sheer of anxiousness passed through his body, fearing that he lost it, but quickly remembered that Klaus offered himself to repair it.

He quickly did his bed, and after taking one last look at his room, he finally left.

✩:✩:✩

“Yes? How can I help you?”

Well, this was not how William hoped you'd greet him. Yes, he was pretty much a stranger to you, but after you helped him last night he thought you'd be a little bit warmer toward him, but from the look of it, it seemed as if you saw him for the first time -which was slightly bothersome.

“You don’t… You don’t know who I am?” he asked. His voice cracked, for what reason he didn’t know, maybe out of disappointment? Probably.

"Uh yes? You're the captain of the Golden Dawns." You said, putting down the basket of bread on the counter. It was curious, and odd that a powerful higher-up would be there, down in the kitchen of the base. Usually, the knights never interacted with the staff, let alone come all the way there to talk to someone.

For a moment you thought that you offended him, mostly because he looked dejected. However, you did nothing but answer his question, so you understand why he was giving you those sad puppy eyes.

William was truly disappointed. Twenty-four hours haven’t passed, yet you already forgot about him?

“Didn’t you take care of… someone last night?”

“Oh, that! Yes. One of your knights was beaten up and I treated his wounds. Why? Did he sue me?" you asked, taking a knife, starting to cut the bread into perfect slices. All the other members of the staff were avoiding coming way too close to you, mostly because William was there and they assumed that you were in trouble. A couple of women also gasped when the word ‘sue’ left your lips, making you roll your eyes at their antics.

“No…” It suddenly struck to William that you probably didn’t recognize him, but why? You saw his face, and it should’ve been-

…. Face….

You saw his face. And now he was wearing his helmet. That could explain your reaction, but at least you should be remembering his voice, just like he remembered yours.

“Do you perhaps, recall how his voice sounded?” saying that you were confused was an understatement. The captain of the brigade you were cooking for was in front of you, asking weird questions and you didn’t know why.

“Hm, not really. I was the one doing most of the talk, and if he said something it was mostly gibberish. All I know is that he has a scar covering half of his face, and he's pretty cute too if that helps you in any way." You said, not even looking at him. You were far too focused on doing your job than actually paying attention to him, which again put William on edge. Last night he was the center of your attention, but now you weren't even sparing him a glance. It was truly frustrating.

But upon replaying your words into his head, he felt his cheeks burn, suddenly feeling all shy at your compliment.

“Can I know why are you asking me all of that? I mean-“ you started, moving the bread aside and taking the washed tomatoes and slicing them, “Is there any reason why you came all the way here to interrogate me about what happened last night? I’m pretty sure your subordinate already told you everything, so why come here?” You inquired, moving the slices on a large plate. You took another one, eyes never leaving the knife you were holding. Doing your work, while holding a conversation with someone, wasn’t an easy task. Most of the time you’d shoo away whoever dared to interrupt you, but sending away The Captain wasn’t something you were planning on doing anytime soon.

You liked your current job, and the pay was pretty high.

William shuffled on his feet, still frustrated about the lack of eye contact and how your focus was all on those damn tomatoes. He had to admit that you were cute when concentrated, but he wanted your attention to be on him and nothing else.

“I… I wanted to see you”

Well, now he had all your attention.

You stopped cutting the vegetables, abruptly stopping your current activity and replayed his words a couple of times, making sure that you were not hallucinating. A few gasps were heard from the back of the kitchen, but you disregarded them, now too focused on what that stranger was telling you.

Putting the knife down, you finally raised your head, blinking in bewilderment at him.

“What?”

William felt his cheeks grow warmer and warmer under your stare. His stomach was flipping, but in a good way, while his palms started sweating. He said nothing, just kept looking at you, nervously waiting for something. What exactly… he didn’t know, he was just… just waiting.

“Why? I don’t remember the two of us ever exchanging any words…” you said quietly. It baffled you how someone, you never talked to, could say something like that. What was really, really surprising, was that out of all the people in the country, William Vangeance was the one to say those words.

He smiled; fondness clear into his eyes as he looked at you. Even your confused expression was cute, and your reaction was also amusing.

“You took great care of me, and I wanted to thank you as soon as possible”

Now his presence, and the sudden approach, made sense. He was the same man you treated last night, and he must’ve remembered you. If only he came barefaced then you wouldn’t have made a fool out of yourself. Coming back to your senses, you too offered him a small smile, now more understanding of his actions.

“My, my~ I didn’t recognize you with the helmet. You feeling better now?” you asked, resuming your work, now cutting the cucumbers -much to William’s dismay. But at least, you were now talking to him with the same honey-like tone like you did hours ago, and it made him happy.

"Yes, I'm sure I was a bother to take care of, but I am grateful for all your help," he said, eyes never leaving your figure. He found himself liking watching you, it brought him a sense of peace and stability. And he hoped that the future would be as pleasant as you were.

"That was no problem at all! I had just finished my shift and I happened to run into you as I was leaving. Besides, I would've felt guilty leaving you there in such a state." You said, moving those slices on the same plate where the tomatoes were. It was interesting to you how he didn’t seem to want to leave, it almost felt as if he was planning on staying longer than you originally expected. It didn't necessarily bother you, but such a powerful presence could be quite distracting.

“I also thank you for the tea and brioches. They were both good”

“How did you know it was me?”

“No one has ever brought me breakfast, and knowing that you took care of me it seemed the only logical reasoning.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them! I don’t know your preferences, so I settled for something simple”

“I’m not a picky eater, anything is fine with me.” And just like that, William ended up staying three full hours in there, talking about different things -whether they were important or trivial- while also watching you cook. For the first time, he refused to go and eat with the other members, preferring to stay in the kitchen and spend more time with you.

You had noticed how enthusiastic he was, and you wondered if he had always been like that. He was like a small child talking about his favorite toy, but in that case, he was talking about normal stuff, sometimes asking about you and your lifestyle. He seemed more interested in your life than anything else, which truly took you by surprise.

There was this social difference between the two of you, yet William seemed to completely ignore it. He was freely talking to you like he’d knew you for ages, and if in the beginning it was slightly uncomfortable, you had soon gotten used to it. He was a nice personality to be around, and differently from other knights, he was talking to you like an equal, never talking down to you. Overall, his presence ended up being a breath of fresh air into your usually boring working days.

✩:✩:✩

As months passed, William would always find a way to be with you, whether at work, during your breaks, and even before and after your shifts. He had insisted on getting you a room at the base, so it will be easier for you to get ready for work and you won’t have to wake up early to come there. Not only was it a win for you, but also for him. Having you living near his room was making it a lot easier for him to keep an eye on you. He could see who’d you talk to, where you’d be, and most importantly, spend quality time with you.

William had to insist for two whole days to convince to move into the spare room near his, but once it was done, he felt at ease knowing that you’d be somewhere safe and physically close to him. Before your moving in, he’d walk you home, and when you refused (telling him that he needed some rest) he would settle with quietly following you. He was just making sure that you’d get back home safe and sound.

He would sometimes follow you around like a lost puppy, and fortunately, it never seemed to bother you. When asked, you had said that his presence was calming, pleasant even, and never had you turned him down for a little chat -which greatly pleased him. Your relationship with William was more on the motherly side, mostly because with you he’d behave like a little enthusiastic child. However, when he wanted, he could be quite the prince charmer, making you feel in certain ways that were hard to describe.

At first, you thought that he just wanted a close friend, and this was why he kept seeking your presence, but as time passed, his intentions seemed slightly different than what you initially thought of. There were times when he’d sneak into your room, seeking comfort. That would happen mostly at night, when he’s slid into your bed, in front of you and quietly demand for cuddles.

The first time it happened, it freaked you out. You got scared, and almost hit him, but when William softly spoke to you, you relaxed, letting out a curse under your breath before asking him why was he there. After he gave you no answer, you thought nothing of it and welcomed him into your arms, patting his head and lulling him to sleep. But that quickly became a habit.

Tonight, was no different. He was cuddling you from behind, warm breath hitting your exposed neck as he held you into his arms. Right now, he was quiet, and it somehow worried you. Usually, he'd ask about your day, or talk about trees, flowers, birds, anything. However, today you could feel that something was bothering him, and despite not knowing if he wanted to talk about it or not, you still asked what was wrong.

“I’ve been thinking…” he began, voice muffled against your skin. He sounded troubled, he himself not knowing if it was alright to voice his thoughts. He wasn’t necessarily fearing your reaction, or rejection -already knowing that you’d accept his feelings-, but it still didn’t help his nervousness. You wouldn’t turn him down, and he was sure of that, but the fear that you didn’t reciprocate his feelings was there.

"Let me guess, you want for the two of us to become a couple, officially," you said, a slight tone of amusement in your voice. William was taken aback, surprised at your straightforwardness.

“How did you-?”

"Well, you're not a good actor, that's for sure. Aside from that, we've been behaving like a couple for the past month, do you think I'm that blind or ignorant to not notice your feelings? And before you ask, yes, I like you too" you said, turning around to face him. Maybe, it was too soon to say that you were in love with him, but the attraction was there. Also, you did like being into his arms, it was comforting and pleasant and gave you a sense of balance into your life. He was always there for you, and even if sometimes he would be a little bit too much -like that time he got upset because you were talking with someone else, or when you’d hang out with your friends for longer than usual-, it never troubled you. His light jealousy was probably the only flaw he had, but again, it wasn’t that bad.

A smile soon bloomed on his face, relieved at your answer. Then, you pulled out a little piece of paper from under the pillow, and he found himself confused. You were holding it in front of his eyes, and to his dismay, it was something you were not supposed to see, hence, blood rushed to his face after concluding that it was his.

“Also, you need to learn to hide your stuff somewhere not in plain view. You know that I clean your room, and leaving this piece of paper, with my name followed by your last one with a bunch of hearts, on the desk… what are you? Twelve~?” you teased, swinging the paper right under his nose.

He felt his cheeks getting warmer and warmer, embarrassment flooding through his body at being caught due to his inattentiveness. That little paper was never meant to be seen, especially by you. He wrote that when he was daydreaming, and when he took a hold of himself it was already too late, and throwing it was not something he was willing to do.

William cleared his voice, tightening his hold on you.

“It does have a nice ring to it” he mumbled under his breath, and luckily for him, you didn’t quite catch that, since he spoke so softly and low.

“What?”

“Nothing”

For some moments there was quietness, William stood in that position, trying to cool off his cheeks while burying his nose into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent he grew addicted. As minutes passed, he was growing tired, and with your soft breaths that were lulling him, he closed his eyes, ready to finally sleep.

“Hey, William”

"Hm?" before he could process what was happening, you grabbed the collar of his nightshirt and pulled him into a light kiss. He briefly widened his eyes at the sudden contact, but quickly closed them, fully enjoying the feeling. His heartbeats quickened; this was his first kiss and he wanted to enjoy it at his fullest. It was soft, and better than he imagined.

When you pulled away, he went in for another one, then for another one again. Needless to say, that was by far the best night of his life, and he wanted for it to stay just like that; he and you together, closer, sharing each-others love through lingering kisses. Yup, William was definitely growing addicted to you and your love.

✩:✩:✩

A/n: So… I changed (and added) some things about the request and I hope it’s alright, otherwise please tell me and I will make another one!

Now, I want to explain what’s going on in this shot. First off, this babe was abused the entirety of his childhood, he never got to experience love as a child (we all know that), and now he’s a grown-up man, and something makes me think that he still has little to no clue on how love works. In this shot, he gets obsessed with the person that showed him an ounce of care (which I think could happen), he mistakes this obsession (interest for the one that cared for him) with love, hence the Yandere-ish theme and insta-romance I put in the warnings.

William strikes me as the guy that, despite being a grown-ass man, has an inner childish personality that he wants to hide (and here I put the little space warning), which comes out when you take care of him. I also think he is quite possessive of who is meant to be with him, and the fact that you were the first person to care for him, made him develop that feeling. William is portrayed as a gentle character, with good intentions that cares for those close to him, but to be honest, with such messed up childhood and the amount of abuse he suffered, I don’t think he’s mentally stable, and that’s why I wrote him slightly stalker-ish, obsessive and possessive.

The Yandere thing, along with the little space, were subjects that I briefly touched, in fact, I just lightly mentioned them in the shot; I didn’t go into details, or deeper, because then I’ll have to lengthen the shot (or make multiple chapters) the word count for this one is past 5k, and It’s already pretty long. Even if I didn't give too many details about Yandere behavior, and/or showed more about the little space thing, I put the tags anyway, because again, they are mentioned in the shot.

P.s: For those who don’t know, the definition of little space is the act of regressing into a childlike state; such as a baby, toddler, or child. (source: Urban dictionary)

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one-shot and thank you for requesting!

✩:✩:✩

Masterlist

#William x reader #william vangeance #william vangeance x reader #black clover william #Black Clover #black clover scenarios #black clover x reader #x reader

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