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chronicallybloodless · 7 months

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Heavy to Hold - Chapter 15

Jealousy

Pairing: Astarion x enby!tav Status: in progress Rating: Explicit (18+ only) Genre: angst/comfort | slow burn Alternating second-person POV Contains spoilers for the whole game basically TW: it's an astarion fic: descriptions of trauma, abuse, sexual violence, etc. | smut | full tag list on AO3 Read from the beginning: AO3 | Tumblr Listen to the Playlist

You were leaning against the wall by the door while Shadowheart knelt and attempted to meditate. Karlach’s discomfort was interrupting her efforts, as well as distracting you from listening in on what was happening in the closed chamber. It had been silent for a while. It made you uneasy, not knowing what was going on.

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Astarion's POV

“Ahhh, the smell of debauchery in the air.” You threw your arms wide with a dramatic flourish as you took in the scene of the goblin camp. The air was thick with with the smell of blood, no doubt belonging to some unfortunate captives.

“It’s not quite a hells party but it is certainly something.” Karlach muttered, stepping carefully around a mysterious pile of…..well, something, that was lying on the floor.

“Don’t tell me this is your kind of party, Astarion?” Shadowheart questioned with a bemused smirk.

“Well….it does lack a certain glamour.” You frowned as you noticed that the same substance was coating most of the floor around you. “But a handful of drunken Baldurian Patriars wouldn’t be too out of place here.”

Environments like these were easy hunting grounds for vampires. People coming in and out, more entrances that could be watched, an abundance of noise and booze, and dim candlelight. You were always pleased when you stumbled upon such as scene, as you were practically guaranteed to find a victim to take back to Cazador with almost no effort required, meaning you could actually spend your time enjoying the party.

Sadly, this goblin soiree did not seem to be the kind of gathering that would have a selection of wines that met your standards.

Shadowheart was about to respond to you with a snide comment, but a blood-curdling scream rose over the cacophony of the grand hall, setting your group on alert.

“Is someone being tortured?” Karlach looked around, trying to find where the noise had come from. She changed off, leaving the other three of you to scurry after her.

When you caught up with her, she was peeking into an open doorway.

“Shhhh….there’s some kind of torture chamber in here.” She whispered as the group huddled in the shadows. “We have to rescue whoever they have in here, they may have seen our druid.”

Just then, a young human stumbled out of the room with a dazed look on his face.

“Karlach, I don’t think it’s—” Tav tried to interject as Karlach grabbed the man by the collar.

“What? Is this part of it? I thought it was over once I said pumpernickle?” The man protested.

“Now now, if you want a turn, all you have to do is ask.” A slender man wearing a dramatic collared outfit was standing in the doorway. His body was covered in scars of all sizes, as well as fresh blood.

Karlach released her hold on the man and turned to the man in the doorway.

“Are you more faithful who have come to beg penance from the Maiden of Pain?”

“Maiden of Pain….” Shadowheart folded her arms as she examined the man. “Are you a Loviatan?”

“Ahh, you know her? Splendid! That does save me my usual explanation.” He sighed and shook his head. “I was asked here to help assist these goblins with their techniques, but they do not seem to grasp the complexity of Loviatar’s rituals.”

“With what techniques?” You asked. Between the blood, the table full of strange instruments, and the shackles on the wall, you had a feeling you knew.

“Torture.” Shadowheart said flatly. “Loviatar only answers prayers offered to her in blood.”

“Torture is such an ugly word for it.” The man waved his hand dismissively. “Loviatar is the goddess of pain, in all of its exquisite forms. She may not particularly care if her penance is doled out to….reluctant…worshippers, but in my experience as a priest, I’ve found that the most beautiful prayers come from the lips of those who truly enjoy their penance.” The priest smirked as he pressed a hand to his chest and gave small bow for dramatic effect. “My name is Abdirak. I haven’t seen many non-goblins during my time here. You are a welcome respite from their primitive approach to pain.”

“I’m sorry, are we ranking types of pain now?” Karlach frowned in displeasure.

“Oh, now that sounds like fun.” You looked over the priest again. His striking eyes shone in the darkness as the candlelight danced over his scarred skin. His priest robes combined a loose flowing skirt with an angular, pointed collar, leaving his chest exposed. You watched his lean muscles tense and relax as he shifted his weight from side to side.

You had received your fair share of harsh treatment in your time with Cazador, though it was usually at the hands—well, finger bones—of Cazador’s enchanted skeleton “kennel keeper,” Godey. Cazador also had his own private torture chamber in the attic, which is where you would end up if you did something especially egregious, or if he was bored that day. Regardless, it was always a miserable experience, intended to make you more complacent.

That treatment was of course not reserved for just you—your siblings were also subject to the same cruelties. As your numbers grew over the years, Godey sometimes struggled to keep up with all of you, which is when he had suggested to Cazador that you would have to learn how to torture yourselves if more than two of you needed to be punished at a time. Cazador of course loved the idea, and had soon introduced both compelled self-torture and torture of your fellow spawn as common activities.

After a few decades, you had become quite good at it. Worse, you had started to enjoy it. As one of the older spawn, you had frequent opportunities to “discipline” your younger siblings as they learned Cazador’s rules. You had figured out what made each of them most uncomfortable through trial and error, but it got to the point where “Perhaps I should get Astarion to take you to the kennel” was a feared enough sentence that they would volunteer to torture themselves instead. Pity, as that did take away one of your only hobbies.

As for your “self-torture,” you learned quickly that it was in your best interest to find something that looked enough like torture and really play up your performance so that Cazador wouldn’t compel you to do something worse. Chaining yourself up under a chandelier and having the candles slowly melt onto you was one of your favorites; just painful enough to count, and drawn out over a few days so you got some rest. Going without meals was the harder part, not that you were terribly upset at skipping a few days of rat. Your siblings hated that you got away with it, but you performed your screams and agony so well that Cazador allowed it to go on.

“How refreshing it is to be in the company of those who understand the value of Loviatar’s Love.” Abdirak sighed. “I must admit, it has been too long since I offered a proper penance of my own. There’s a shortage qualified individuals around here, and I’ve always found that penance is more effective under proper supervision.” He had a mischievous smirk on his face as he spoke.

And then you noticed that he was eyeing Tav.

“Tell me, if one of us helped you with this…penance.” Shadowheart questioned. “Would you be willing to tell us more about the cultists here?”

“Oh, I do love a good torture for information.” You offered. It had been a while since you had made anyone scream slowly, and all the better if it meant Tav wouldn’t be involved. You couldn’t imagine them being comfortable doing something like that.

“An intriguing offer.” Abdirak placed his hand on his chin thoughtfully. “I think if I were able to give and receive penance, I would have some time left over to discuss the cult.”

“And just who do you think needs to receive penance?” You were infinitely less interested in being on the receiving end of any punishment, no matter how handsome he was. Still, you had gotten quite used to pain, and could probably endure whatever it was easier than the others.

“I believe I could handle both roles.” Tav offered. You turned to look at them, but Abdirak was already leading them into his chambers.

“Now wait just a moment.” You protested. “What exactly are you going to be doing with them?”

“That will be up to the Maiden of Pain to decide.” The priest smirked at you as he closed the door in your face.

“I don’t get it.” Karlach was pacing anxiously up and down the hallway. “Why would Tav volunteer to be tortured?

And then you heard the distinct crack of a whip. A moan followed, but you couldn’t tell whose.

Another crack, followed by another moan, louder this time. It was Abdirak’s voice. You breathed a sigh of relief.

You tried to imagine what Tav would look like wielding a whip. It seemed so…unlike them. They were far better suited to instruments and delicate rapiers, moving with grace and control, their fingers crackling with magic that reflected in their eyes like sparks. A whip was so much more….brutal. Tav was radiance and energy, not ripping and tearing. They almost never drew blood on the battlefield. After all, that was your job.

You heard Abdirak begging for mercy, pleading that he could take no more. It was followed by another crack of the whip.

Perhaps there was more to Tav than you knew.

The chamber fell silent after that. You heard the muffled sounds of talking but couldn’t make out the words through the heavy wooden door.

“Um….what are you doing?” Shadowheart was looking up at you with a judgmental look on her face. You realized that you were leaning conspicuously towards the door. She knew full well that you were listening in, but she wanted the satisfaction of making you say it aloud.

“I’m trying to make sure our dearest leader isn’t being harmed.” You huffed.

“I think Tav can more than handle themselves.” She smirked. “Besides, that priest has information we need.”

“Yes but….”

“Maybe Tav can talk him into joining us.”

“Why the devil would they do a thing like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. They seemed pretty keen to go and enjoy this penance. Perhaps they would want to make it a regular practice.” The look on her face told you that she knew about your late-night encounters with Tav. You weren’t sure what business it was of hers, much less why she would try to get under your skin about it like this.

You were trying to come up with a response when you heard another moan through the door.

It was the same sound you heard each time you fed, an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure.

It was Tav.

You turned your attention back to the door, gesturing to Shadowheart and Karlach to keep quiet. You could hear Abdirak encouraging them to be louder.

And they obliged.

You froze, transfixed by the sound of their voice echoing off the stone walls of the chamber as their cries grew louder. Your mind raced, trying to decipher what he was doing to them for them to sound like that. In all your late-night imaginings, you never came close to how beautiful they sounded now, when they weren’t trying to muffle their sounds of pleasure.

It pained you that you weren’t the one making them sound like that. You thought about the marks you left on them each night and the pride you felt when you admired your handiwork. You thought about the knowing looks you got from Tav in front of the others every time they crossed their legs, being careful to keep the marks hidden—a look that seemed to say “This is just between us.”

You couldn’t help but feel possessive about them, given everything that had happened between the two of you. From the moment you first met them on the beach and saw the bruises on their neck, you never wanted anyone to leave a mark on them except you. The way they gave themselves to you each night to sate your hunger only made those feelings stronger.

And now someone else was touching them, doing gods know what to make them scream in ecstasy, making them bleed.

Your stomach turned as a terrible thought crossed your mind. Were they only allowing you to drink from them because they got off on pain? Did they care about you at all?

The sounds they were making made it clear that they were enjoying their penance. You felt disgusted with yourself, thinking that Tav may have just been using you physically.

You heard Abdirak praising them for their screams, asking them to let go and submit to the pain. Their moans intensified, the sound intertwining with the snap of leather on skin.

“Astarion!”

Your eyes widened as Tav screamed your name between moans of pleasure. They sounded like they had come completely undone.

You sincerely hoped that Shadowheart and Karlach hadn’t heard any of it, but the bemused expression on Shadowheart’s face suggested that you weren’t that lucky.

You stood there in silence, unsure of what to do next. The sounds in the room had lowered back to quiet murmurs. Shadowheart was barely containing her glee at your discomfort. Karlach looked like she was ready to break down the door.

“Should we um…..Should we just go get them?” Your question was met with a shoulder shrug and an enthusiastic nod from your companions. You steeled yourself and opened the door.

“Oh, Astarion!” Tav turned to look at you as you entered the room. They were stripped to their undergarments, seated in Abdirak’s lap as he stroked their hair. He was similarly undressed. You wanted to scream, but managed to restrain it to a pained grunt. “Did you need something?”

“Perhaps your companions are ready to go rescue your druid from the dungeon?” The priest questioned. It seemed that Tav had managed to get the information you needed.

You looked around the room, taking in the scene. The whip you heard earlier had been carefully wrapped up and placed on the table along with a quite frankly astonishing array of equipment. You had trouble believing that the sounds you heard were solely the result of the riding crop that was lying on the floor near them given all the options that were at hand. You were relieved that none of it seemed to have Tav’s blood on it. You were less relieved that Tav didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry to get out of Abdirak’s lap.

“Yes, well, we do need to be seeing to that druid.” You huffed, folding your arms impatiently.

“Have you sufficiently internalized your penance, dear one?” Abdirak asked Tav. There was a softness in his eyes and movements that made your chest tighten. Nothing about how he was interacting with Tav now suggested that either of them had been penitent in the slightest. They looked….loving. Comfortable. Safe.

You didn’t understand why anyone would cling to someone who had just harmed them, even if the experience was pleasurable for them. You knew first hand that pain could be pleasurable, but you understood that as something your body did to protect you, turning something excruciating into pleasure for your own sake. To seek it out voluntarily—and to respond with such gentleness to the person who hurt you—was so far removed from your own experiences. You had always been left alone to tend your own wounds and nurse your hatred of those who had wronged you, just as you had done to your siblings when it was your turn to inflict pain.

Why would they want to stay with someone who hurt them?

Why did they call my name if they are so comfortable with him?

Tav slowly stood and offered a hand to Abdirak. He stood and gave their hand a gracious kiss before releasing it from his. Tav was practically glowing as they walked towards you.

“All done?” You tried to speak without making your feelings obvious, but the hurt was there.

“Yep!” They grabbed their clothes from a nearby stool and began dressing. “Though from what Abdirak told me, we’re pretty much going to have to kill everyone in here to get the druid out.”

“Pity. Shall we start our cleanup in here then?” You said flatly. Tav giggled, assuming you were making a joke.

“I’ll be out of your way by the time you reach the dungeon.” The priest began dressing as well, though his outfit didn’t cover the fresh welts on his back.

Tav threw their arms around his shoulders. “Take care, Abdirak.”

“You as well. If I’m ever in Baldur’s Gate, I’ll be sure to pay you a visit at the temple of Sharess.”

You raised an eyebrow. You had trouble believing that they would have told him about the brothel, considering how secretive they were about their work.

“Ready?” Tav asked. You had a million questions running through your mind.

Why are you being so nice to him? What did he do to you? Can I kill him? Did you tell him about Sharess’ Caress or does he think you work at an actual temple? Why did you scream my name when it was him touching you? What do you want from me?

“Of course. Let’s go spill some blood.”

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koorminii · 2 years

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hii ! firstly i wanna say i'm so happy to have found ur account here, your content is absolutely lovely and you're my biggest inspiration right now :')

i really wanna start my own tumblr and get back into writing (skz stories) and was wondering if u have any advice on getting started/ finding friends?

sending much love and thanks for being here!

omg hi! i’m so happy we found each other! this is so sweet wtf i’m glad i can be of any help to you <3 i’ll tell you exactly what i did, and idk if this changes anything but it did make my time on here a bit of smooth sailing compared to my other accounts.

first of all, have fun! set up your account any way you’d like, set up a theme (if that’s your thing) make a navigation, a masterlist (even if it’s empty), and get all your links set up. organize your account to your liking before you do anything else.

Then, make your first post. Even if it’s just a drabble or a mini fic, post it, set it up however you’d like— banner or no banner, title or no title— and post it. of course you don’t have to do this as soon as you set up your navigation, but whenever you’re ready. I’ve noticed this helps when following other authors and interacting with them because they’re more inclined to want to be mutuals. Personally, I feel like when your account is a bit messy or in the first stages of cleaning up, that most will just consider you a reader or not bother to scroll through your account to see your work. I hope this doesn’t sound harsh, i’m speaking from my own experience, and more people followed me back here when my account was all the way set up compared to my first account that wasn’t set up when i first started.

As an example, my first account was a spur of the moment thing. I had no navigation, no masterlist, no taglist— nothing. I had one work that I didn’t even spend much time on and I posted it for fun (which is what ur time here on tumblr should be), and ended up adding all that stuff like months later. The difference between that account and this account since I now knew how to set it up properly, I did all that stuff first before posting, and the growth on here is much better than it was on that account. I actually surpassed it in followers a few days ago I’m pretty sure, and I had that account since June.

As for finding friends, just interact. I was really nervous to talk to people 😭 but a lot of the time they ended up talking to me first. I feel like if you make your presence known as a writer in whatever way that may be, interact from time to time with your account— whether that be random thoughts, reblogging things, doing tag games and ask games— it makes it a lot easier to meet people and makes you more familiar to others and makes them want to talk to you. As for most of my friends at the moment, we were mutuals and I sent them an ask, commented on their posts, and vice versa, and eventually we became close!

Also, stays are super welcoming to new writers. A few of my newer mutuals and even authors I follow that don’t follow me back helped me a lot and promoted my fics with and without me asking. The interaction on here is much more positive and abundant compared to other fandoms i’ve written for, and I think you’ll have a good time. Put yourself out there, don’t be too nervous, and have fun!

As for the first part of this ask i’m actually so soft rn :( this was the first thing I woke up to and i’m so glad I could be an inspiration to you!! it makes me insanely happy to hear that so thank you ☹️ i’m sending love to you <3 have a nice day and feel free to ask any more questions if you’d like me to explain things further, or give you tips on anything else!

also, as soon as you set up your account follow me pls!! i’d love to be your friend and help u out in any way.

#good luck! you can do it my love #— my wonderful readers 🌱#— letters to iris 💌#this is so sweet #crying rn #hi anon!

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malamelodies · 1 year

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Hello Precious

oh sweetheart,

what a weird whirlwind this life has been. I am presently in San Diego, finding myself constantly looking around thinking, how the fuck did I get here? what lead me to this moment, and I have moments where I;m fucking scared I won't be able to leave. that I will somehow be stuck here for a time too long. that in my 'prime' I'm actually wasting away my life.

I had this thought today: the two times I had the most money I've ever had: I was with Jedidiah, and I immediately spent it all. I spent it all. and the moments it was spent on was beautiful, but it was fleeting. I didn't invest. I understand that I was leaning into it. over 100% and the way I thought I was never going to get over greg... and I haven't in ways... I'm terrified that Jedidiah has cost me my ability to love whole heartedly.

Yes ross should have been a rebound... but I really really loved the way we spoke to each other. and when it was good, it was really really sweet. I loved laying in bed with him and just laughing. and enjoying each other.

I just know that I want monetary abundance. a family and to be in a place that is close to the ocean and its a place that I love absolutely love. in all aspects and beyond.

right now I'm waking up looking around asking how I got here in a bewildered and sad state. I'm excited to wake up and look around and think 'holy fuck how did I get here?!' with such excitement and love and appreciation.

now in the mean time, how do I gain that perspective where I'm at?

I think the first thing is routine. physical routine.

I need to not think about what has happened in the past or the future for the matter and just be here. in this moment. if font of public square. finding my flow. what can my flow be.

Monday: therapy, bike, yoga (work trade)

Tuesday: run with Moki. Gym.

Wednesday: Bike ride with Moki. Gym. Work at coffee house.

Thursday: Mom/swim. Open Gym Aerial. Yoga. (dance?)

Friday: Morning run with Moki. work (dance?)

Saturday: Work (maybe bring bike?)

Sunday: If I'm working in the evening, I think it would be really nice to go to the farmers market.

and then there is community outreach as well as finding another job that is easy is cash flow. I would like to find a restaurant and honestly, any that are in this area could be pretty sweet. Maybe look around in La Mesa or Lemon Grove or Normal Heights. Something a little more funky. I fell into Coasterra thinking that the view would ensure things. and it did. but being in kitchen. meh. and this is where I need to stop and listen. Universe. How do you want me to show up in this world at this time? Give me guidance to how I can best serve you.

Its funny... on the way over to wherever I was going to write this, I was thinking that I was going to write about what has happened the last 2... no 3 years of my life.

Starting April 19, 2020. I'm pretty sure I left for Maui sometime in May. and up until that moment. I remember being with Cary and thinking 'fuck this is the end of a chapter and its fucking beautiful'. but I was also craving to be on island. it was calling to me SO LOUDLY. then the money that was given to me through the government. and how active we were. there was literally nothing else we could do but work out. and garden. and be naked and spend more time with the environment around us.

and now. here. let it be a challenge. I know there are awesome people out here. I see it. I see moments of it. and I also see how my eyes get wider looking at different non profits.

I fucking hate jamul. my god. its so dry and hot and rattle snakes are real. I don't want them around. I don't like them.

so things for future online therapy of Tumblr.... 1. saga of 2020 to present.

2. find that job. maybe Carter, just maybe, you were brought here for a reason. and rather than trying to rush out or itch at the discomfort. remember that this is a beautiful place and there is hope to find that thriving community and purpose that I look for anywhere and everywhere I go.

I don't know if it's because things are more spaced out here, but I just want to ground into one neighborhood and really lean into it.

not to mention today is eclipse day. how to womynifest the things I desire and adore. and the kind ways of genuine connection with all types of people is something that I love. people do seem a little more normal and interesting. maybe la mesa is the starting point of normalcy. I fucking hate jamul. its so silly. more so I dont hate jamul, because actually going inland with all the feed places; I'm actually wondering how I missed out. there is a whole journey of farm life, and I was just far enough away.

I literally get disgusted when I think about how my parents live. EVERY TIME I eat with my parents, or more so, my parents food; I get sick. I genuinely get sick. I feel weird in my tummy and it just isn't fun.

so, baby girl. lets take it one step at a time. literally now and into the evening.

play by play.. because I find that my mind gets a little too whirly so lets write it down. even when I had a moment last night right before bed and I thought 'oh yeah I didn't do those things I thought about' and I didn't do those things because I'm not writing it down. they need to be written down in order for the tiniest chance they will be remembered and executed.

so now, as we wrap up this journal reflection, I would like to take out the envelopes and see what I need to schedule.

lets actually take a moment and do it right meow.

breast exam: presently on hold for

Dermatology: on the 24th I think it's at 1?

I need blood test, which I'm not seeing so I will need to drive down there (maybe tomorrow) (or Friday) to sign papers. so fucking stupid.

I think the best thing is to call them tomorrow.

then I'm going to go pee and put away my things and kindly walk up and down this street. maybe change, actually. and do I want to go down to kava? I think it could be fun. then come home. love up and have some bone broth and hangs out with parents for a moment.

THEN. upstairs music. candle. intention. <3

okay I like this.

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ynscrazylife · 2 years

Note

For your title game

Fallen Petal

Either Nat or Wanda pls 😊

Fallen Petal | n.m angst fic

Summary: Y/N is Natasha’s petal, but Natasha’s the one who fell.

Authors Note: Don’t blame me for the angst, Aira gave me the idea :)

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/waredits

Y/N should be flooded in relief right now. She should be jumping at joy that she could finally stretch her legs and sleep on an actual bed instead of the backseat of a car. She should be taking deep breaths, finally able to calm down now that they didn’t risk anyone finding them.

Yet her only concern was the flowers she had bought for the safe house months ago. She had grown an abundance of different flowers in her garden and picked a couple to brighten up the safe house. A rose here, a tulip there, even a daffodil or two!

Flowers had been a sign of Y/N and Natasha’s longtime friendship — their first mission had been to go undercover in a botanist’s shop. It was where their partnership bloomed, their close-knit bond was planted like a seed, a signal for the many adventures to come. Natasha always loved the flowers Y/N grew, and bringing them now reminded her of the redhead, as she hadn’t seen her best friend in months. Thankfully, Natasha had allowed her to use the safe house once, and now they were returning again, on another yet adventure.

In the background, Y/N was aware of Natasha and Rick discussing the former’s fake identities, and she left them to it. Her muscle memory kicked in, directing her to the kitchen when she had put the vase. Smiling when she saw it, Y/N etched closer to inspect the flowers.

A pout settled in when she saw many of the flowers dead. The rose was the last one alive, it that too was dying, some of its petals laying like a pool at the bottom of its stem.

“You killed them!” She accused, whining over her shoulder to their friend, Rick.

The two spies quieted and joined her in the kitchen, Rick hanging back as Natasha walked forward, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulder.

Rick was saying something in defense of himself — even having the audacity to suggest that Y/N was at fault because she put flowers in a place that was rarely visited — but Y/N was only tuned into Natasha. The moment their skin touched, Y/N had to catch a gasp before it left her lips. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, feeling Natasha’s hot breath on her shoulder, and that’s when she remembered that she had to actually listen to what the redhead was saying.

“Maybe the rose can be saved?” She suggested, poking the stem.

Y/N shook her lip. She had seen many flowers die over the years, and this one was not salvageable. It was a goner.

They stood in silence for a couple seconds, until Natasha carefully picked up one of the fallen petals. It laid on the tip of her finger, and with a smirk she placed it on Y/N’s nose. It was quick to fall, but Natasha caught it and nestled it into Y/N’s hair. “There,” she said. “Turn that frown upside down.”

Y/N giggled, the feeling of the petal having tickled a bit. She grabbed another one and did the same for Natasha’s hair, although you couldn’t really tell because the shades of red were so close together. “We match,” she murmured.

“Are you two done, yet? ‘Cause we’ve got some stuff to figure out,” Rick interrupted loudly, effectively ruining the moment.

Y/N couldn’t keep the grin from blooming onto her face as she felt her feet land on solid ground and saw the Avengers compound. Soaring through the Quantum Realm felt . . . Indescribable. Like how she’d imagine flying high in the sky without being in a rocket, while the sun was setting and the clouds dyed its canvas an array of pinks, oranges, and yellows. Being free, not having a care in the world, not having a weight on her shoulders, not having any worry in her head.

But despite all that, returning from the Quantum Realm grounded her, reminded her that life did not consist of skipping along the puffy clouds. It was full of things that irked her: like how the suit itched her skin and the helmet was about to squeeze her brains out. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what made it lose it’s irritating quality, but she didn’t really care.

Yanking the helmet off her head, it rubbing against her scalp did not faze her. She looked around, taking in every member of the team that had grown to be like family. Her eyes were instantly drawn to where Natasha and Clint had been before they departed, standing across from her with her signature, all-too knowing smile that made Y/N weak in the knees. If that smile were a painting, it would be as priceless as the Mona Lisa.

Her smile dropped when she saw no sign of the spy nor the archer, but quickly assured herself that they’d be back soon. Thor had already been there when Y/N arrived, so it wasn’t like there was a time limit on when they had to return.

She relaxed her shoulders, tuning in to the conversations around her. Y/N allowed herself a small chuckle as she heard everyone’s stories, having gotten used to their exaggerations.

The sound of a footstep brought her back to the spot Natasha and Clint were, but felt every organ in her body leap when she saw only one standing there, not two. They removed her helmet, revealing themselves as the brunette.

Y/N stilled like a statue, her thoughts racing by too quickly for her to comprehend any of them. She couldn’t move and would only remember later that she had held her breath. It was like a brain freeze, except from fear rather than cold.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce’s question made her icy walls begin to crack under the pressure.

The slightest lift of his head, his refusal to meet anyone’s gaze, and the stain of how his tears dampened his cheeks told Y/N everything. Nausea spawned as if it were a big, hairy monster and it left no mercy in its attacks. Y/N lost her balance and crashed to the floor, hearing a bone-breaking scream that was mixed with a large sob. She only registered it as her own when she heard the muffled voice of someone asking her to stop her cries.

“No,” she forced out, her voice cracking as she adamantly shook her head. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying. She’s not dead. She can’t be—” Her sobs were making her words incomprehensible, but the others gathered the gist.

“Natasha told me to apologize to you on her behalf. She said you were the only person she was ever truly in love with and . . . She wanted me to give you something,” Clint said, his voice shaking as he just about managed to speak over her crying. He fished into his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled piece of folded paper.

Y/N was just about aware of someone taking the paper for her and that same person — Steve, was it? — lightly but firmly pull her back into their own arms, hugging them close. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, instinctively leaning her head against the person’s chest. She didn’t know how they kept steady, with her own body fully trembling, as her sobs only got louder and more intense as her thoughts carried on, reaching further into despair.

“Tasha promised me,” Y/N sobbed, her cry both disappointed and frustrated, distraught and furious, defeated and deflated. “She promised me she wouldn’t fall! She promised me that when we got everyone back, we would settle down and build a life together!”

The person rocked her slightly and shushed her, but this only enraged Y/N further. She wasn’t some little kid crying over a split ice cream. She pushed herself away from the person (who was indeed Steve) and stumbled to her feet.

“No, no, you don’t understand!” Y/N protested, wrapping her arms around her as she faced away from anyone. She couldn’t bare the thought to face them. How could she when all they were sure to tell her was that it was going to be okay. Screw that. The love of her life was gone. It would never be okay as long as that stood true. “Natasha promised me she wouldn’t fall, NOT again!”

Y/N groaned as she felt her head collide with the pavement, content with waiting until her the stars faded from her vision to move. Once they did, she rolled over, sluggishly pulling herself into a sitting position. She left her daze just in time to watch the man they had been fighting throw her friend over the bridge.

Immediately, she lurched forward, instinctively letting out a cry of helplessness. The man turned to her, and Y/N shrunk back from his gaze. She felt her heart pounding, fueled by pure fear, praying on any God out there that Natasha was alright and that the man wouldn’t go after her next.

Thankfully, after a moment or two, he turned around and retreated. Y/N let out a breath, gathering that she wasn’t a concern of his because he had gone after Natasha, not her. Once he was out of sight and Y/N was sure he wasn’t a danger, she scrambled to get down to the water, her fears settled when she spotted the agent dragging herself out of the water.

“Natasha!” She cried, lurching herself forward into her friend’s arms. Natasha stumbled back as she adjusted to having Y/N’s weight, but quickly wrapped her arms around her friend as well, gazing at the illuminated cure and the photo strip tight in her grip.

“Are you alright?” Y/N questioned as she drew back, her eyes never staying on one point for long as she inspected Natasha for injuries.

Over the years, her honey-warm voice was tue only thing that could snap Natasha out of concentration. There had been too many times where she was neck-deep in evidence for a case and one chirp from Y/N would have her forgetting everything. At S.H.I.E.L.D., there had been a running joke that there was magic to Y/N’s voice (Natasha always said that it was because Y/N sounded so distinctive and unique) and seemed that some of that magic was in the air that night. Natasha forget about the fact that she was looking at photos of her and her younger sister, and focused on the worried agent standing in front of her.

“Just damp,” she said, a rare time that she was cracking a joke in a severe situation. It was for Y/N’s, she told herself, suddenly becoming aware of the way the moonlight reflected on Y/N. Her clothes were wet from hugging Natasha and she chewed at her lip nervously.

“I just watched you fall. I thought you might’ve been—” Y/N’s exclamation made Natasha realize she had been looking at Y/N’s lips. Shit. Y/N had been worried about her, and Natasha couldn’t stand to see her worried.

With a surge of desire and a need to calm her friend, the redhead acted on impulse. She leaned forward, their lips touching, Natasha instinctively cupping Y/N’s cheek with her hand. Almost immediately, Y/N depended the kiss, leaning in as well and wrapping both arms around Natasha’s waist. Neither had no clue how long they stood there for, but both had been content to stay like that for eternity.

When they eventually departed, they took deep breaths as they leaned their foreheads against each other’s. “That was amazing,” Y/N was the first to speak, still breathless.

Natasha nodded. “I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile, my petal,” she admitted, smiling.

“How am I the petal if you’re the one that fell?” Y/N wondered, referring to earlier that day.

Natasha just chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. “One,” she said, matching Y/N’s whisper. No one could hear, but it was like they desired privacy from the world. The street lamps and bugs buzzing in the woods had no business being apart of this. It was their moment. Theirs and the lake’s. “Technically I did not fall, I was thrown—” she paused to lift her head and meet Y/N’s eyes. “—Two . . . Clint may have saved me, but you’re the one who keeps on saving me. You make me bloom, even in the wintertime when all the other flowers are dead. For that, you are my petal. Because petals never truly die, and my love for you will never die, too.”

Her words were like a spell, rebounding Y/N’s magic on her. If anyone else were witness to this, they may think that they had fallen into an alternate universe. The moments where Natasha was so soft, and not the calculated spy she usually was, was quite rare. She reserved this tone only for the people she held closest to her. It was an honor to hear it.

Y/N grinned. “Who knew you were such a poet?” She teased, playing with Natasha’s hair.

Natasha smirked, shrugging her shoulders. “Hey, I learned from the best,” she retorted.

Y/N’s face dropped into a pout. “I thought you liked the poems that I showed you!” She recalled.

“And I do,” Natasha confirmed, giving Y/N another small kiss. “What do you think made me realize my feelings for you?”

It took Y/N a week after the battle against Thanos to enter Natasha’s room at the compound. Every single thing in there made her want to sob from the pit of her stomach, but on shaky legs she managed to make her way to Natasha’s bed, where she sunk into the familiar mattress and its sheets.

She pulled the piece of paper that Clint had given to Steve out of her pocket. Before, she hadn’t had the courage to look at it, too caught up in her grief, but she owed this to Natasha. Y/N unfolded the paper, regarding the smudged inked words on it. She didn’t have to read it to feel comforted by just the scrawl of her handwriting, but she couldn’t keep herself from devouring its contents nonetheless.

“My dear Y/N,

In the event that you were reading this, I died. Hopefully, I went out fighting. I want you to know that I am sorry. Sorry that I left you and sorry that I broke my promise. I cannot imagine what you’re going through but I hope you remember what I once said to you: my love for you will never die. Now that I’m dead, you may wonder, has my love for you died? I want you to know that it hasn’t, as long as you keep carrying it with you. It would be foolish of me to tell you not to be upset, but I hope that you can find happiness again. Stay in contact with the Avengers, with Nick and Maria and Rick, they’ll all need you and you’ll need them.

Please, after you’ve read this, go to the second drawer on my beside table. Open it, find the small red bag, and look inside. I am so sorry that this is how it is revealed, my love. I wish it wasn’t like this. After you find it, read the back of this paper — oh god I hope you read this one first — to find everything I had wanted to say.

One last thing — to fully understand it, know that the moment I saw you pout when you saw that the flowers were in the safe house were dead, I realized I was in love with you.

Forever yours, my petal, Tasha.”

If there was anything about the spy, it was that she could still confuse anyone — even Y/N. Her curiosity beat her confusion, though, and she gravitated towards the drawer. After digging inside, she found the red bag, and gently pulled it open, her mind racing at the possibilities of what was inside—

Well . . . She hadn’t guessed this.

A short but loud gasp emitted from her lips as she pulled out a small black box, her hands shaking as she carefully opened it to see a beautiful engagement ring with a rose petal engraved on it. Y/N’s hand flew to her mouth, closing her eyes as she processed this with tears coming. She sat back against the bed, pulling out the ring and delicately sliding it onto her finger. It was marvelous. She knew then that she’d never take it off.

Searching the bed with her eyes still fixated on the ring, Y/N found the letter. Turning it around, a smile came to her face when she saw that Natasha had written a “script” of sorts of what she wanted to say to Y/N when she proposed, and even a draft of wedding vows.

“Oh, Tasha,” Y/N whispered, cradling the two most precious things to her now — the letter and the ring. “I will forever be your petal, my fallen angel.”

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skyward-floored · 2 years

Text

Brethren in a Cradle

Here’s chapter one of my fic I posted on ao3 last month but forgot to put on tumblr! The chain become dads: the fic

Ao3

Next chapter

————————————————————

Wild stepped out of the portal, shaking his head to clear out the slight nausea that always accompanied him from the dark magic. He accidentally smacked Legend in the face with his ponytail, and the veteran gave him the stink eye.

Wild shot him a completely unapologetic grin and scanned the forest clearing they’d emerged into.

The portal had spat them all in the middle of a lush forest, trees surrounding them wherever he looked. It was early morning, the sun probably about to rise, but the forest was so thick it was difficult to see anything. Fortunately they were on a small incline, and Wild could just barely see over the top of the trees, so they had some visibility at least.

There was no sign of the shadowy lizard who had led them here.

Wild frowned. They’d been tracking the shadow for not-quite a week now, occasionally fighting it and multiple hordes of monsters, but the lizard itself continued to elude them. The portal they’d just gone through was the first sign in days that they were on the right track, and as uncomfortable as going through them was, everyone’s spirits had risen.

“Okay, anybody know where we are?” asked Warriors, cutting into Wild’s thoughts.

“Or when we are,” put in Four.

“Right, that.”

Wild glanced down at his slate as the others began to talk, the blue lights winking gently in the early morning. He tapped a few buttons, pulling up the map screen, and let out a resigned sigh as it read the same as it had since he’d gone through the first portal.

No signal detected.

“Not mine,” he grumbled as he refastened the slate to his belt.

Fighting for your life against evil infected monsters that were twice as difficult to defeat than normal and hunting a mysterious red-eyed shadow lizalfos who was out for their blood was fun and all, but it would have been nice to be back in his own time. He missed his own lands, his home and the animals and people that lived there.

...he missed Zelda.

“Definitely not mine!” chirped Wind, from next to him. “Way too many trees. Unless this is actually a really big island or something! ...but yeah, probably not. Or wait, maybe Forest Haven? No, you’d still be able to smell the ocean... Or we could be in the future?”

Wild laughed at Wind’s continued muttering, but quickly sobered as Twilight spoke up.

“We don’t really have any way of figuring out where in time we are unless we go ask some locals or find some recognizable landmarks.” the rancher said with a sigh. “We’re going to have to find a town or something.”

Time nodded, glancing over at Warriors. “Captain do you think we should split up? It seemed to work well last time, but it also-“

“Wait, shouldn’t we try to track the lizalfos?” Wild cut in, “that’s more important then figuring out where we are, right?”

“Well yeah, but if we know where we are then we’ll be more prepared,” said Legend, his arms crossed. “and if we happen to be close to civilization then we can ask-“

“Uhh guys? What do you make of that?”

Wild looked over at Hyrule, who was pointing skyward anxiously. Wild followed his gaze, and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Off in the distance, lit pink by the pre-dawn light, was a huge plume of smoke wafting across the sky. He hadn’t noticed before because of the abundance of trees paired with the low light, but now that Hyrule had pointed it out he could see it clearly.

The group all looked at it with varying degrees of surprise and wariness. If there was a forest fire anywhere near them, then they needed to get out of the woods, fast.

“What do you think-“

Before Sky could finish, Wild had darted off and was already halfway up a large oak tree, whipping out his slate as soon as he reached the top. Activating the scope feature, he followed the large cloud of ash to where it was drifting slowly from... not the woods.

He frowned. He couldn’t really see what was burning due to the long distance and tall trees, and the smoke made it hazy even with the slate, but he could tell it wasn’t a forest fire. He knew exactly what those looked like, and this wasn’t one of them. Besides, it looked like the trees started to thin out right about where the smoke was rising from.

No, this was something else.

...A town?

Twilight walked under the tree and looked up at Wild, cupping a hand around his mouth.

“Can you tell what it is, Champion?”

Wild pursed his lips, still gazing at the smoke.

“It’s not a forest fire. I... I think it might be a town.” he peered through the scope again, double checking the view.

“Can’t really see any flames from here though, even with my scope. The smoke is making it hard to see much at all, but it looks pretty far away.” he lowered his slate, looking down at Twilight. “I don’t think we can make it there til’ at least this evening.”

The others had walked over to the tree at this point, and an uneasy silence followed Wild’s words. It was broken a few moments later by Legend kicking a rock.

“Anybody wanna bet that’s where our lizard and his friends are?” he said darkly.

Time nodded, a grim look on his face. “It could just be a coincidence, but based on our past experiences I’d say it’s a safe bet. If it’s a town we need to get over there as soon as possible.“

The heroes sprang into action at that, grabbing any bags or items that had been set down, and quickly prepared to move out.

Wild jumped down from the tree, landing next to Twilight who didn’t even seem to notice suddenly having a teenager in his face. He appeared to be lost in thought, hand on his chin with a stern but worried look fixed on his face.

“Helloooo earth to Liiiiink...” sing-songed Wild, waving a hand in the rancher’s face. Twilight blinked, and shook his head.

“Uh, sorry, were you saying something?”

Wild sighed. “You okay? You seemed to be thinking pretty hard.”

Twilight’s frown deepened, and he glanced over at his horse, unease written all over his face.

“I was wondering if I should ride Epona on ahead to see what we’re dealing with. If it is a town, then there’s people there that’ll need help. I’m worried we aren’t going to make it there in time to actually do anything.”

Wild pursed his lips, shifting his weight uncertainly as he thought through what Twilight said.

“I don’t know Twi, if it is the lizard you shouldn’t face him alone, especially if he’s still got all those other monsters with him,” he said, “and even if the monsters aren’t there, you can’t singlehandedly put out a fire like that, trust me.”

Twilight nodded resignedly, but then his face lit up. “I could fit one other person on Epona... what if we just rode ahead and scouted it out a bit? Helped the villagers if it’s a village, stayed back and waited for you guys if its nothing but monsters?”

Wild hummed thoughtfully. Now there was an idea.

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Warriors, echoing his thoughts. “If you bring Wild we can stay in contact with the slate and Wind’s charm, and once you’re close enough you can tell us what’s going on.”

“But this is only a scouting trip,” Time sternly interjected from nearby. “Help if it’s needed. But if the shadow is there you are not to engage unless absolutely necessary, understood?”

Twilight nodded as he began to tighten Epona’s saddle, and Wild shot an easy smile at their leader. “No worries old man, I’ll keep our rancher out of trouble.”

Twilight gave him a light smack and mounted Epona, and Wild, after rubbing his head grumpily, did so as well.

“Be careful,” Sky warned, “big fires can be unpredictable.”

“Even more so if they’re magic,” said Hyrule.

“We’ll be fine.” Twilight reassured, and looked around at them all. “See you guys soon.”

The rancher kicked his heels lightly against Epona’s side and they shot off into the forest, a few shouted ‘good lucks’ following them. Wild glanced up at the plume of smoke as the trees whipped by, a thin thread of unease settling in his gut.

“I just hope we make it in time to do something.” he muttered.

(...)

Wild and Twilight rode as quick as they could through the woods, Epona’s hooves crunching loudly through the leaves scattered on the forest floor.

The lack of any discernible path slowed them significantly, and the roots of thick, ancient trees were all over the ground, forcing them to travel at a more measured pace so Epona wouldn’t stumble. The woods were twisting and nearly impossible to navigate, and even though Wild and Twilight were both efficient at finding their way through forests they still got turned around a few times.

The biggest obstacle they came across though, was a huge, deep ravine that cut through the woods.

Deep and imposing, it stretched off into the distance in both directions with no bridge in sight. They discussed trying to get across using a hookshot or paraglider, but then Epona would have been stranded and Twilight was not leaving her alone in unfamiliar territory.

They ended up having to backtrack and go around what felt like miles away from their destination, and the continued delays had Wild antsy with trepidation.

The longer they took, the more people could get hurt.

The sun had risen nearly to its zenith by the time they finally exited the forest, coming to some rolling plains spread with sparse trees. Twilight kicked Epona into a canter and they rode through the grass, riding over a few small hills before coming to a large one with a small tree at the top. They crested it quickly, but instead of continuing down, Twilight abruptly reined in Epona with a sharp intake of breath.

Wild peered around him, a question on his lips, but the words died in his throat.

They’d reached the source of the smoke.

A small town stood before them, or rather the remains of one did. The buildings were mere faintly smoking rubble, debris and soot scattered throughout the streets. There weren’t any visible flames but smoke was thick in the air, and when Wild breathed in he could taste it on his tongue.

Twilight stared at the sight with a distraught face, and slowly guided Epona down the hill, making their way into the town. Wild quietly got his slate out as they went in order to contact the others, and couldn’t help stare as they passed under what was obviously once a sign declaring the name of the town, the only legible word left being ‘village’.

“Wind?” he directed into his slate. The sailor’s voice crackled through almost immediately, and Wild winced at the volume of his voice.

“Wild! Did you guys make it? Is it a town or just the monsters? What’s-“

“There’s nothing here.” Wild said quietly, and Wind’s chatter trailed off.

“What do you mean there’s nothing there?” he asked hesitantly, and Wild swallowed.

“There was a town here, but... it’s nothing but wreckage now. There’s nothing left, just burned rubble. No monsters or people or anything. The fire’s obviously been out for a while now, we... we were too late.”

Twilight had dismounted Epona while Wild talked, and was crouched in the burned remains of what might’ve been a shop of some sort, shifting through some of the rubble.

“There’s no people? Nobody at all?” Sky’s voice asked, and Wild shook his head, glancing around.

“It doesn’t look like it.“

Silence on the other end.

“Wild, you and Twilight should check around, see if you can find anyone.” Warriors’ voice said with a sigh. “People could be injured and unable to call for help.”

“Or maybe hiding somewhere,” said Four. “It’s likely some villagers would have fled while others stayed and tried to put the flames out.”

Time’s voice cut in. “We’ll get there as fast as we can and help you look. Be careful.”

Wild reassured him they would, warned them of the difficult path in the forest, then cut off the communication with a sigh.

This kind of destruction was uncomfortably familiar to him, the only real difference in that this was a few hours ago as opposed to a century.

Old ruins always interested him, but a recent disaster like this? It made his skin crawl, and unwelcome memories scratch at the edge of his mind. Ones with fire and lasers and crying, and a scream that begged him to wake up-

“Wild.”

The champion blinked and looked over at Twilight, who had straightened and was holding what looked like a spear snapped in half, stained dark with a caked on liquid.

Black blood.

“Looks Legend was right, our monsters did this.” Twilight said, both sadness and anger in his tone as he kicked what looked like a moblin arm sticking out from the wreckage. “The villagers must have tried to defend themselves, then the monsters somehow set the whole place on fire. They didn’t stand a chance.”

Wild squeezed his eyes shut and let a slow breath out. If only they could’ve gotten here sooner, they could have done something.

“Warriors said we should look for survivors,” he said after a minute. “just in case there’s anybody around.”

Twilight nodded and set down the spear, looking back at the ruined shop. “We should watch for monsters as well.” he said quietly, “they’re probably still around somewhere.”

Then he walked over to a building that was slightly less destroyed then the first had been, and began shifting the rubble around, seeing if there was any way inside.

Wild joined him and began digging in silence, nothing but the sound of their work breaking the smoking stillness of the town.

(...)

They’d been at it for a few hours when Wild heard the noise.

The two had checked nearly every house at this point, only skipping over the ones that were well and truly destroyed, and had found no living residents, or living monsters for that matter.

The town was silent and still, and it made Wild’s skin crawl.

They were working on the last house on the street, the building itself barely recognizable as a house anymore, half the structure fallen in and the remnants severely weakened. He was currently digging through the remains of what he thought might have been the porch, trying to move enough charred rubble out of the way so he could access the front door, when he heard a faint cry.

It was so faint that at first Wild wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but after a minute or two of silence he heard it again. Quiet, but there.

Wild got to his feet and nudged Twilight, who between the long afternoon shadows and ash and soot coating him was barely recognizable.

“Twi, did you hear that?” he asked, voice a little raspy from the smoke.

Twilight stopped what he was doing and pricked his ears, listening intently.

A small cry, louder then the previous two rang out softly from the upper level of the house they’d been trying to access.

The two heroes made startled eye contact then instantly returned to their work with renewed vigor, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten with the hope of a survivor. Wild had almost given up on the idea of finding anything but ruined weapons and charred remains at this point, and the hope of someone alive warmed his chest and spurred his movements.

It only took a few minutes to clear the rubble enough for them to enter, and Wild’s heart twisted when they finally went in, Twilight making a small noise of dismay.

The place was a wreck, more so then the other few intact homes they’d entered that day. The furniture was flung haphazardly around the room, and questionable dark stains were mixed with the ashes on the floor. Wild stepped over the burned remains of what might have been a bokkoblin, and wrinkled his nose at the smell of burnt monster flesh that permeated the air.

“Hello?” Twilight called, but there was no answer.

The destruction in this house was different then the others they’d entered. The buildings were all destroyed yes, but they were mostly just burned to bits, with no monsters inside them.

This one was different. It was more like a fight had broken out in here.

Wild’s thoughts were interrupted by the now-familiar noise, louder now that they were inside, but still faint and raspy sounding. He and Twilight didn’t exchange anything except a glance, and let the noise guide them carefully to the more burnt side of the house to some barely standing stairs.

“These look like they could fall at any second,” Twilight said with a frown, and Wild carefully pressed his weight on the bottom step. It creaked loudly, but held, and he put the other foot on. It continued to hold and he looked at Twilight.

“I’m light enough to climb without breaking them Twi, I’ll go check it out.”

Twilight looked like he wanted to argue, but Wild was already halfway up the stairs by the time he’d formulated a response. “I guess I’ll look around down here some more.” he sighed, “yell if you find anyone, all right?” Wild sent him a thumbs up before disappearing from view.

He made it up to the second floor without too much difficulty, only a few steps breaking under his feet, and winced at the wreckage that met him at the top.

This room was in even worse condition then the lower one, a wall completely gone and most of the roof with it, hazy sunshine filtering through the hole. There was a large pile of rubble in the center of the room, and next to it three monster bodies, charred almost beyond recognition, (maybe lizalfos?) were lying next to a large bookshelf, two halfway crushed underneath.

The cry sounded out again, and Wild picked his way over to the other side of the room, testing each step and walking carefully around the large pile of roof in the center of the area. He glanced around and caught sight of a small basket on its side by the wall, ashes lightly flecking the side, a green blanket spilling out of it onto the floor.

And wrapped halfway inside of it was the source of the noise.

A weakly crying baby.

Wild nearly fell through a large hole in the floor in surprise, staring for all of two seconds before practically leaping over to the basket. He climbed nimbly around the hole as well as another two monsters, and carefully gathered the crying baby up into his arms.

“Oh Hylia- hey, hey shh, it’s okay,” he tried to soothe, and surprisingly enough the baby stopped crying, it’s raspy sobs fading as it blinked up at him.

The baby’s eyes were still full of tears but it seemed calmer now, and Wild carefully unwrapped the blanket to make sure it wasn’t hurt at all. Shockingly enough he, as he quickly checked, seemed perfectly okay except for a small scratch on his arm.

And yet the house was nearly destroyed with dead monsters lying mere feet away?

“You must be one lucky kid,” he murmured gently, and the baby hiccuped. His hair was so sooty Wild couldn’t tell what color it was, but his eyes were a bright blue, and as he reached out to grab at his fingers something tugged on Wild’s heart.

He hadn’t met any babies on his quest, only a few more recently that had been born after he defeated the Calamity. Finding out about hylians tinier then children had sent him nearly over the moon and he visited them whenever he could, much to Zelda’s amusement. This one was bigger the other babies he’d seen and looked a little bit older, but was still pretty little. Maybe a year old? Twilight would probably know.

“Wild?” the rancher’s voice faintly called, “is there anyone there?”

“U-um yeah!” Wild called behind him, still feeling a bit startled at the whole thing. “there’s uh... it’s...”

“What? What is it?”

Wild swallowed and decided showing would be better than telling, and carefully clutched the child to himself while picking his way back through the room. His slate chimed with an incoming message, but he didn’t notice, so focused was he on not sending himself and the baby through the floor. He made his way to the stairs and climbed down as quickly as he dared, coming face-to-face with a worried Twilight the instant his feet met the ground.

“Wild why didn’t you answer me? Is there someone up there or- what is that.”

Wild gave him a sheepish smile and pulled back the blanket covering the baby’s face, the child fussing a bit again. Twilight stared at him, mouth open in surprise as he waited for him to say something.

“Wild, that’s a-“

“I know,” he answered plainly, adjusting his hold. “he was nearly crushed under the roof, and there were a whole bunch of dead monsters nearby.”

Twilight held out his hands and Wild reluctantly handed him the baby, wiping some ashes off his face as he did.

“Twi... I don’t think there’s anyone left but him.” he said quietly as Twilight looked at the baby in wonder. “all those other houses we checked didn’t have anything but bodies in them, and all the others are totally wrecked. We would have found someone by now.”

Twilight sighed and dusted some soot out of the baby’s hair. “I know. I checked the other rooms, there’s... nobody alive here. But there were tons of dead monsters, all over the place.”

Wild bit his lip. “Why is this house so full of monsters? All the others we’ve seen were outside, why’d they come in this one specifically?”

Twilight was silent, and Wild tugged at his bangs, soot coming off onto his already dirtied palms. “It’s almost like... like they were targeting it.” he murmured.

If it was possible for Twilight’s face to crease more, it did so now, eyes full of concern as he looked down at the baby.

“You don’t suppose-“

“Wiiiiiiild! Twiiiiiiiiiilight!”

A voice that sounded like Wind shouted their nicknames from outside the house, and they both looked up, thoughts forgotten for the moment.

“Sounds like the others are here.” commented Wild, and Twilight nodded.

“Guess you get to meet everybody else,” he said, lightly tickling the baby. He giggled and snuggled up to him, and Wild could practically see Twilight melt. “Wind’ll be ecstatic, he loves kids.”

“He’s not the only one,” said Wild with a pointed smirk, but his face fell as he looked down at the baby.

“Rancher...” he asked quietly, and Twilight met his gaze. “what are we going to do with him? His whole village is gone, he doesn’t have anybody.”

The rancher stopped at the ruined doorway, hazy sunbeams shining on his face. He looked down at the drowsy baby tucked into his arms, and sighed.

“I don’t know,” he said, “not for sure anyways. There may not be anyone left here to take care of him anymore... but he’s got us at least.”

Something fiercely protective shone in Twilight’s eye as he spoke.

“And until we figure out more about what happened here, we can take care of him.”

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu wild #lu twilight #linked universe fanfiction #brethren in a cradle #writing from the floor #the second chapter is already up on ao3 #but I’ll put it here as well as soon as I get a chance

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cyncerity · 3 years

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Hi. So when I read your giant!techno nom fic. The protective vore one. I actually thought that it was one of the best fics of vore catergory that i ever read. So is it alright if you can write some more like one about g!techno playing hide and seek with the other sbi but with noms? Or it can be nap time and techno nommed them for better sleep. Or you don't have to use these at all, or even write it. This is my first time asking for something on tumblr so im not expecting anything. But it would make me squeal if you do.

Thank you.

more giant techno noms more giant techno noms more giant techno noms more giant techn-

I’m also gonna put this in the same universe as the last one because screw it I like that au-

((I’m so sorry this took so long I’ve been in a funk lately where all I do is eat, sleep, and rewatch Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood an eighth time))

tw: vore

It had been a long few weeks for the tinies. Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy had been left alone in the house to fend for themselves as Techno went out to do…whatever Techno does. He had left some food out for the three tinies and said he’d be back in a week, but it was starting to be closer to two and a half. The small hybrids had run out of the food Techno had left them a while ago, which wasn’t a huge problem since there was other food in the house, but the real problem was that the food was far less accessible than they had hoped. None of them had borrowed in so long that they all almost completely forgot how to do it. And the fact that there was almost nothing to help them move from place to place didn’t help much, either: Techno had always carried them from place to place, especially after Philza had lost use of his wings.

By the time Techno got home the trio was exhausted. Every muscle ached from overuse and their bones felt like they would collapse any second. But despite the pain, the joy they felt as Techno walked through the sort was immeasurable.

Techno didn’t look much better than the tinies. He hobbled through the door with an array of new bruises and scars, looking ready to collapse. Yet despite this, his mind went to the borrowers he lived with. His family. He had to make sure they were ok before he would let himself relax. Thankfully, it wasn’t that hard to find them. Literal seconds after he closed the door behind him he heard the all to familiar shriek of the youngest borrower screaming his name from the kitchen counter.

He ran to him and found Phil and Wilbur nearby, carefully scooping them into his hands. “I’m so, so sorry I was gone for so long. I honestly thought it would be a week, but shit hit the fan and I couldn’t get home that fast, believe me, I tried. I’m so sorry.” The tinies nodded, believing Technos words wholeheartedly. They couldn’t be sure what Techno did as a “job,” but if it was anything similar to what he was doing when he met them, they could excuse him for being a little late.

Techno could’ve cried tears of joy seeing the borrowers again. Though it had only been a few weeks since he had last seen them, he missed them. Before he met them he had gone years without contact from other people, but after being with them he couldn’t imagine being alone again.

The giant piglin hybrid brought the three to the couch with him, along with a plate of food for the tinies. It was no use hiding how hungry they looked from Techno. Sure, they hadn’t starved to death, but food hadn’t exactly been abundant. So the next hour was spent with the borrowers eating on the couch and Techno asking about how the borrowers were doing physically and mentally, and eventually it led to Techno telling them all the cool things he saw on his trip.

Techno eventually began to fall asleep sitting there. He was exhausted from his trip, and wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep. The tinies apparently noticed this, too, though, as they began to climb up his clothes and rest on his chest as he laid back. As he was closing his eyes, though, Philza hesitantly walked closer to Technos ear.

“Techno, can I ask for a favor?”

One of Technos eye peek open to look at the tiny bird man, who was standing nervously next to his head. “Sure, anything.”

“Can you swallow me…?”

Techno…honestly should have been more surprised. The last time he had done it was when they were kidnapped in that alleyway, and it honestly still stung to bring up, especially to Phil, whose mangled wings served as a constant reminder of the event. But Techno and the tinies talked about what it was like to have someone inside you, and what it was like to be inside someone else. Even if they teased each other for it near constantly, it had come to the point where none of them were afraid of admitting how much they enjoyed it at the time. So instead of responding, he glanced quickly down to Tommy and Wilbur to verify if they were asleep or not. Neither were, and both were staring up at Techno and Phil as if waiting for something, which the piglin hybrid figured out pretty quickly.

“You two wanna go with your dad?” Techno asked. His response came in the two scrambling off his chest as quickly as their tired bodies would let them and running over to Phil, who laughed at the sight. Techno sat up on one of his elbows and laid out a hand for the three.

They all got on, Phil looking especially relieved since he was sure that his request would backfire. They all just wanted, or more or less needed a comforting and warm place to sleep after all their struggles and wanted the reminder that Techno was back and cared about them.

Techno slipped them off his open palm over his open mouth and felt the three fall into his maw, carefully avoiding his boar-like tusks. He closed his mouth and began lathering the three in warm saliva so their trip down would be as painless as possible. The tinies immediately began feeling the tenseness in their muscles fade as the natural heat from Techno’s mouth surrounded them and made them feel drowsier than they already were. Phil, upon seeing the exhaustion on his sons faces that he was sure mirrored his own, pat Technos tongue as a sign that they were ready. Almost immediately they felt their surroundings shift and clung close together as the esophagus dragged them deeper into the giants throat. They felt Technos fingers push against the bulge they made in his throat as a deep instinctual purr rang out around them. Techno would always deny that he could purr or that he had ever purred around them, but all three of the tinies knew better.

Soon enough they dropped into Technos brood pouch, the giants purring becoming immediately louder as he rubbed them from outside the stomach. The second Wilbur felt Techno massage them, he was out like a light. Tommy laughed at him before walking over to his older brother and curling against him, falling asleep shortly after.

Phil looked towards his sons before going to where he felt the front of the second stomach and was and rubbed circles in the organs walls, hearing Techno sigh in contentment above him.

“Thank you, mate.” Phil said, feeling himself start to fall asleep in the warmth of his friend. “Anytime, Phil.” Techno responded. The small avian felt a final pat at him before falling into a deep and comfortable sleep.

#also I know I messaged you about this before but this is still one of the nicest things I’ve ever read #so thank you <3 #cyncerity #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #mcytg/t #mcytgt #tw vore #giant!techno #tiny!wilbur #tiny!phil #tiny!tommy #Giant Techno AU #cynwrites

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admiringlove · 3 years

Text

scent, coffee and turtlenecks.

+synopsis: hq boys and their scent, their coffee order and the turtlenecks they wear.

+genre: fluff lol; headcanons.

+characters: akaashi keiji, miya atsumu, kuroo tetsurō, sugawara kōshi.

+warnings: literally just fluff man, unless you cry because of cute stuff.

+author’s notes: inspired by @neonghxst on tumblr!! go check them out, they have a great blog and i love their writing <3

— AKAASHI KEIJI.

he smells like the first rain of the monsoon. the petrichor, the atmosphere, the sole comfort it brings you by being in his arms. it reminds you of being in the rain for the first time. his arms are firm when he embraces you, yet somehow he holds you as if you’re the most fragile thing in the universe. his scent is addicting; sometimes you never want to let go of him, and you fall asleep in his arms as he’s typing up an essay for literature. he’d smile down at you, pressing a loving peck to your forehead and carry you to bed. you’d sleepily mumble against him, “keiji you smell nice. cuddle me please” of course he doesn’t resist against it, because how can he? you look adorable. being in his arms are like being an elysian—pure heaven for your mortal heart.

definitely addicted to caffeine. but he’s one of those people that calculates up a schedule so he’s making sure the caffeine is working hundred-per-cent. he orders something strong in the mornings—like a hot vienna coffee in medium size and that’s it. no sugar, because this man likes his coffee bitter. and if he’s pulling all-nighters, then cold brew all the way. everyone at the café likes him a lot; his aesthetic and his orders match up perfectly(too bad he’s yours though).

man has a lot of turtlenecks. he’s the type of person that collects them in different colors. but not something too flashy, because he is simple and elegant. he has a range of grey’s and a few beiges, some pumpkin and whites and blacks. he even has blue(his closet is basically a color wheel of turtlenecks). to be honest, you don’t know how he fits so many clothes into his wardrobe. he basically is a autumn/fall wear model in making. it’s the season he gets the most compliments from strangers(because this man wears turtlenecks even in summer).

— MIYA ATSUMU.

smells like pine and sandalwood. his scent feels like home. whenever he finishes a game and wins, he’ll run to you(who’s in the stands) and he’ll engulf you first. the scent will overcome you, the crowd behind fading away as you feel like you’ve arrived home after a long trip and simply want to rest for a bit in the comfort of your own bed. the blond will throw you the dashiest smile in front of the public, but the softest one in private. nights with atsumu are filled with his homey scent on the couch, as you read to him and he falls asleep in your arms or your lap. you’d peck him, and he’d say, “yer sniffin’ me again, aren’t ya?” only to get poked in the eye by you after. “i don’t sniff you!” you’d yell at him as he falls onto the floor after you harshly get up and go to the bedroom, but he’d follow you and lay in bed with you and embrace you, the aroma coming over you again as he says “i know ya like my cologne, dummy. i like your scent too. c’mere so i can hug ya.”

his orders are neither too bitter nor too sweet. he probably is one of those people that tries everything on the menu first before deciding what he likes. he’ll later decide on a mocha latte with the slightest chocolate drizzle on top. he likes the small bitterness and the twist the chocolate brings to the drink. it’s steamy, and it makes his throat clear up. his heart rate slows down a smidge and he just sits there and sips on the drink till he’s calm, cool and collected. it’s a drink that makes his day better for sure. and for cold drinks, atsumu would go for an iced caramel macchiato. it just clicks with him for some reason.

he has a good collection. by this, i mean that he’s a king of knowing what looks good on him and what doesn’t. he knows what exactly to pick —whether it be a sleeveless olive green turtleneck, or a beige one with an overcoat. he’s cocky, and he knows he looks good. man is definitely a king of accessories and wears the proper amount of necklaces, rings, or whatever he thinks will go with his outfit. definitely winks at you when he catches you stare at him for too long and tells you to take a picture.

— KUROO TETSURŌ.

he smells like mahogany teakwood. it’s captivating and comforting at the same time. he wakes up before you in the mornings, so when you wake up, you’re immediately engulfed by this strong yet soothing scent. he’s holding you in his arms and stroking your hair ever-so-softly, and you let out a small whine which let him know that you’re about to wake up. and when you open your eyes, he throws you a softened smile that screams, “good morning” or “i love you” and a thousand diiferent affirmations at the same time. you run your fingers through his hair, looking up with one eye closed as he mumbles, “we have to get up for class”, and your nose scrunches at those words as you pull him closer and letting out a muffled, “i’d rather stay in bed with you for eternity”.

his order isn’t too bitter, but it’s enough to keep him awake. if he’s going for something cold, it’s going to be a dark roast cold brew with sweet-salted caramel cream. it’s a little bitter—but it manages to make him stay awake through the night to finish up an assignment or two. and if it’s a hot drink he prefers, then he definitely goes for an espresso macchiato. it makes him feel at home when you’re not there by his side.

he’s definitely the type of person that tries everything for fun. you’re laughing in the background as he pulls on a neon yellow turtleneck, the only problem is that he’s actually rocking it. he looks amazing even in the most craziest choice of clothing. although you always buy him many different shades of red(he has a lot of red in his closet—maroons, scarlets, pumpkins, you name it), he looks good in almost anything. he always makes you laugh by buying abnormal things then putting them on in front of you to check if it looks good or not—and most of the times, it does.

— SUGAWARA KŌSHI.

he smells like a mixture of vanilla and cinnamon. it reminds you of winter mornings, when the two of you used to go to high-school hand-in-hand with small to-go coffees that you’d have. suga is definitely the type to snuggle into you every chance he gets after getting to know that you like his scent. it’s cute to him, and he makes you feel comfortable. every time the two of you are alone, he will inch closer and closer to you, finding solace in the fact that just his presence makes your mood lighten up. he’ll hold his hand out in front of your mouth so you can press a kiss to his knuckles, he’ll kiss your forehead and get dangerously close to you(so close that you’re practically a tomato), and he’ll mutter, “hey, come here. i wanna hug you” as you stand there with a really big blush. you’ll mumble, “you smell nice, ko” and his confidence level just rises up by fifty percent.

he’s bougie. he gets a hazelnut bianco latte, just something about it reminds him of the same winter mornings he shared with you. the way you prayed at the temple for his well-being when he was sick, or the way he stayed in his bed for days and you were sitting next to him for most of that time. it’s an over the top and extra drink, but it makes him comfortable and gives him a sense of nostalgia. for a colder preference, he gets a pistachio frappuccino. it’s soft and delicate, and the taste is really elegant.

he prefers sweaters, but his go-to color is grey. suga would look good in almost anything, but he likes sweaters and woolen vests more than turtlenecks. although, if he has to choose a color to wear, then he’d choose grey(you name it, whether it be steel grey or a nice shade of pewter). he looks amazing in an abundance of shades of greys and even black—pair it with a scarf and dickies, and he looks like an angel on earth. you always compliment him, and he always ends up looking away while blushing like a high-school kid in love(well, you can’t blame him. he was one at some point).

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captainkurosolaire · 3 years

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I challenge you to pick five Tumblrs in your social circle and tell them something you admire about their blog!

Only 5? I could probably do 500. However, that's determined by what's considered my social circle. I'm often in my head being incredibly social continuously is really a challenge of mine. I'm always actively marching to something, my flame of passion when I have it, I can do some crazy stuff but it diminishes relatively quickly, so I try to cling. But I'll up your thing and list 25 of my fave people. Ask me this same thing in a Month, I'll keep doing 25, until I do all the people. How about that? (If anyone wants to be taken off mention let me know.)

@eligos-venator

- Has one of the most intelligent and sophisticated minds, I've had the pleasure to know. Literally admire all his aesthetics, work, head-cannons, ideas. It's only a benefit that the dude shares some OC characteristics to my own (Winning features). I really enjoyed the short-thread we did. It was incomplete, mainly because of my faults. I want to actually be better to give him a proper delivery and RP worth his time, but he's incredibly worth the investment of eyes.

@mischiefandmystics

- If there was a Mount Rushmoore of writers who kept me in this endeavor, encouraged me. Sun'ra is one of them. His characterization skills, writing, the delivery and how believable his character is, they're masterful acts.

@mishivymendi

- I wouldn't be nearly tamed or as creatively freed if it wasn't for this gem. She broke my shell, I really didn't at a time ever see myself being anything really beyond a smut writer, but Mishi not only saw potential in me, but brought it out. Her stories and world's she brings to life are so majestically colorful.

@asymphonyofash

- My go-to. He's another pillar individual who saw things in me past just the obvious perception, (Probably second longest XIV RPer I know.) Taught me a lot of the lore, I shot him up and he's sort of become my stapled rock. He's right aside Sun'ra met them about the same, both took me under their wing's as I quietly observed and absorbed.

@lavender-hemlock

- We're always up and front with each other, never feeling like I couldn't say anything around, extremely rare to share that these days. Her gif's are legendary, something on my own terms I want to soar in quality. The writing she does is astounding. Character has so many mysterious pages that are quite addictive to want to explore and learn them. (Encore 20 below-cut)

@under-the-blood-moonlight - Her sweetness and artwork and overall is just a friendly presence to be around. I cherish them so much. One I can jive with more darker undertones with. She's one the most hardworking and ambitiously creative people. I'd mail them infinite hugs if could. Thanks for being you! @roxinova - I owe a lot of credit to her. She's constantly OOC and everything was nudging me too be more inclusive to things and involved heavenly. It's rare for me. I'm really horrible about that my autism sets me back socially, I constantly will be drowned by the next day and be reverted back to better off alone, that's my major crux and weakness. But her thoughtfulness, these things, aren't ever foreign to me, I do pay attention probably better than any would ever give me credit. She's a beacon model to have as a friend. @corpse-dancer - Haven't ran into many words with them, but her character, screenshot game, expressiveness, they're all a marvel to constantly see, alongside her attitude and bringing life character. I do think if I were better, we would click quite splendidly. They've recently reminded and motivated me to pick-up my daily-practice, or try too. Keep being a rockstar. @fair-fae - Few who wouldn't know who she is in this community. She's been in my opinion a huge core. I'm certain she's inspired many who weren't even RPers too try it by seeing her at the Quicksands or elsewhere, a tyme ago. Making no exception, I was even one of those. I used to be in QS every-single day and was often doing my shameless stuff. Though her presence first did show me there's a lot more. I admire her in all fields. Also appreciate her adopting me to the FC and her always thinking of others and giving events, or her aesthetics and portrayal, its the epitome of swan elegance. @thorcat - One of my most treasured friends. Been RPing with them for a longtime. There's never anything complicated between us or a rift of drama, it's just let's go and have fun. We really mesh well, I've welcomed nearly ever character and got the privilege to RP with nearly all them. They always open up envelope and help me, settle on back and just laugh. Whether used to be waking up to their characters humping my afk one or use randomly having a hardcore banter between Ufah and Captain and capturing them as a voidal pet. Memories with them isn't something I'd ever want to lose. I love ya! Never stop enjoying life for anything. @lukawarrioroflight - I get in the gutter find myself lacking motivation or writing, discouraged even... But I never have felt, I could ever do any wrong with this person, they bring the light out of me. So no matter what, how many hospital-beds I yearly visit, it's because of this rare nature, that I come back, even if they're the only one's ever to read my stuff. I would do it for them alone. @scholarlybreadbun - I've only been back recently and they've so much warmth. Their presence is the sun of inviting. The couple and posing all the shipping that stuff makes me even melt. I'm not particularly talented in regards to posing couples, but I took notice of them along time ago and set on quietly improving. Really like them for them, wouldn't ever want them to change that. Ideally look forward to be in their orbit longer so I can bask in them. @seascrapes - Been mutual with them for a while. Their aesthetics and character is all S+ level. I appreciate throwing back tagged prompts with them, one of many people I really think would be enjoyable to collab with any other seafarers. The artwork and pieces of Tal Brook, are breathtaking as ever exceptionally too, not to mention. Love your stuff matey, you're a king. @mai-takeda - Is a myth. Her absolutely sheer friendliness and her attitude, are so positive influencing, I was so thrilled to be welcomed with her and boosted by them early on. I couldn't see myself, wanting to exist where they didn't have happiness like the same she always delivers by just doing so many soft-things. Not to mention her writing... She's a whole world to throw yourself gazes

under. @zhauric - It doesn't go far either without the same breath of Mai, I could say about Zhauric. He's someone worthy to look-up and also recognize they're passionate and inviting, hoisting up literally everything. Could easily find any of their characters comrades with my own, or jiving alongside. Not to mention last XIVWrite, they slaughtered it. So enjoyable to read them all. I like how organized their blog is too, motivated me recently to redux my entire thing. @cadrenebula - They have so many diverse characters and their entire roster is vibrant and is imbued with a massive flux of life. They are able to encapsulate so many character's voices and portray them so effectively too, I really admire that greatly. They've made me think bigger and try myself recently at actually undertaking a huge roster of characters too. I've taken many breaks, but I always am so graciously returned often with them close-by and that's so incredibly sacred. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged or quit, leave, departure, etc. But they always seem to have a bigger house then they had last I took a break and I enjoy peaking in. @silvernsteel - Her artist and gif-work are awe-aspiring, there's little unrecognizable by her photo-sets and edits. They helped me even tip-toe into uncharted with giving me the recipes to try incorporating gifs into my arsenal. Plus so delightfully pleasant to actually talk with and just chill. I want nothing less in life, than the beauty they give, to be returned to them for eternity in all their glorious air. If ever needed anything of me, they've got me. @spotofmummery - We talk about passion or friendliness or overall a person to even remotely try to be, I got to include them. Their web-series and writing, screen-work, everything they do is fantastic. And that's furthered back nearly any I've met showcase or immortalize how just genuine of stellar person they are. I wish them always the energy to create and sparks. @snow-covered-moon - They've never been anything less but absolutely a diamond to know. I enjoy their character, their almost always abundant of energy that's very rub inducing. Their WoL character stories, writing, screen-shots, everyday they open up a new pandora box of joy, there's no mistaken love behind their character and that's infectiously easy to also enjoy something when the author does too. Always healthy to be around, I never feel short of vitality when they're close-by. @letheofthelost - Always cheerful or least encapsulates with me, they're a carnival ride. Just pure epic story-telling and engaging equally as passionate, constantly writing characters, not looking for anything outside of RP or anything really just being their selves, they fade all others. I love their presence, them as a person. Enjoy any character they'll ever come and throw under me, or a change of pace. Always feels easily understandable between one another. @crow-iv - Together we're an unfiltered, unstoppable wake of pure passionate writers and art. But I would say they're far ahead of me, in every regard. Already able to portray multiple characters in a scene and do such in-depth thinking, alongside even sketch or draw right afterwards or a scene. They're so talented, huge reason I set-out on giving them a Crew of cast and actual stories to-tell when I'm actually caught up and if they interested and we both have the room, I really think if further myself, I can be better and supply more for them to draw and I want to see them soar. I want to give them all my improvements and effectiveness. @trishelle - They've such a reinforcing personality and aura around them that easily bolsters anything that dares thinking they're about to be depleted so energizing. Aesthetics, characters, all them are so lively that further compliment their own mun's great welcoming presence. Worth hundreds of smiles and stars, keep high. Wish I had more time to dedicate to learning you! But I do notice and appreciate you. @fracturedfantasia - One of my people, I like to retreat and just talk my full

head-cannons with or learn, share insightful and inquisitive thoughts about philosophies and multi-culture things. Or plotting and in-general, they're a well of information and brimming ideas, they are every making of what makes a quality friend. When you can generally be open-about-all that's a real one right there. Their characters and tarot readings, I always would implore if they're offering. Thanks for giving me any-time. You're truly a treasure. @violet-warder - Never have even came to words with them yet unfortunately but didn't mean as a mutual, I haven't admired all their screenies, writing, or the aesthetics they bring of their character. Glamours is real end-game, I like all what you've done and put together. I care strictly about what represent and give, I don't want to see them ever think anyone want's them gone, they are abundantly so talented and possess things only they can deliver. I think recently came back too, and I'm glad to share, hopefully, overtime I can build you better up. Or eventually even talk, but I'm certain you are a busy-body person too, so we're relatable. @layla-grey - I have a lot of underline issues that set me back as a flawed person, but I've never not been anything but someone who's open, it's why I always do include my f-list in anything or etc. I'm not here to present this facade, and really don't care to be an image crafted by another. No one as of recently or now, am I close with as an RP partner or friend with then this stunning masterpiece. I never let-up on story-telling or anything so I can eventually use my Crew or other Characters, to give them anytime a master entertaining day, they push me to not be short-changed. IC and OOC I would devote my full attention too cause they've never shed from me. Didn't ever matter how much silence or anything, they're always around. And don't expect anything out of me or pressure. Just accept me and I equally share that sentiment, I want you to have everything in this world has to offer. ----- This is just a fraction of people, I've paid attention, noticed or know. I've been around in this Community for many years. There's a lot of things I could say about it, more probably then anyone else. But what matters to me, is recognizing the people who are here, that work hard, build others up, support, constantly are a beam. I don't need to interact with everyone, to know when someone is generally out for good. Or they're out for bad I've learned inquisitiveness longtime ago, I had to survive and remain afloat. I just go out and be me, and along the way, I get to find people like these, who help bring out the best me. I am nothing without these people, creators, writers, artist. I'm a terrible friend, horrible person, I don't have the energy to interact NEARLY with as much as I'd like with you all, If I could clone myself, or if things were different, I would drop it all to be in your orbits more if could. But, do know I appreciate you. And even if you ever do depart from this whole community or anything, know that anything you share, or give, that stuff does matter, somewhere, someone was aspired, if nothing else, by me. ONLY you can give the worlds you see and I am thankful. Do love yourself.

#I acknowledge you #Love you #Keep doing you #Asks answered #I'm the one guy who's never not going to be filtered or unspoken #To many people have left or been broken #Don't you ever think about it.#There's so many many more #But I'll recharge for next time

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rouiyan · 3 years

Note

hmm im quite new to tumblr and honestly am dissapointed with the lack of GOOD doyoung fics on here. can I request a scenario or a drabble (whichever u see fit) of doyoung taking me along when 127 were touring and the moments we had (backstage/fights and making up/ comforting when he felt unsatisfied with his perfomance/moments with some other members too) I just miss 127 touring a lot !! and ofc if this is too complicated u can refuse lol

hey lovely, this ended up way longer than it should have been but it’s really just a bunch of drabbles strung together that have somewhat coherence to another. i liked the way it turned out though and i hope that you do too <3

𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 — idol!doyoung x (gender neutral) reader ✧ genres : established relationship, fluff, angst ✧ word count : 4.7k ✧ disclaimers : swearing, food

synopsis — snapshots of what it's like to travel with your boyfriend. oh an his nine other teammates.

“how much space do you have left there?”

doyoung peers over you, chin propped atop your shoulder, and even though he sees for himself quite plainly, you supply him with an answer anyways, “not much, just the front pocket now.” his chin digs and you shift your head the slightest in his direction, to appease him with your attention maybe. he doesn’t budge nor speak so you take it upon yourself. “what?”

“quick kiss?”

plucking the garment from the assortment of items he'd passed along, you inspect it with curious eyes, "you gonna wear this?"

"huh? oh, that." he sits back on his knees, then onto his bottom, then crossing his legs, "i thought i'd give sleeveless a try." you don't mean for it to come out offensively, rather teasingly in actuality, "you?"

unbothered, he simply muses on, "yeah, me. why?" with eyes rushed and flitting across his surroundings for a sight of his phone. now you're even less in the intent of offending him, more so just pushing his buttons in the face of humor, a humor that's evident in the way you glance up from the tee, eyes locking with his own and shadowing with mischief, "with what muscles?"

doyoung clicks his tongue, sticks it into the side of his cheek, and now back on his knees, treads over to where you're sat, countenance teeming with amusement. his demeanor himself traces in the slight of a smile that's yet to appear, only held back as he defends his biceps, "hey, i've been working out, you know." you watch him situate himself once again, legs crossing just opposite of your own. placing both your hands on both his knees, you lean in, lips puckered and nose scrunched either in emphasis or hilarity, he isn't quite sure though he thinks it's cute. that is, until you speak again, "you want your kiss? how bout now?" and he mirrors with an, "i'll pass," standing to retreat back into the hunt for his missing phone, head shaking all the while at your devious antics.

minutes later and upon finding it within the folds of his sheets, doyoung reverts his attention back to you who, by the looks of it, has just finished packing for the night with both sides of your suitcase clamped shut but yet to be zipped. his feet are planted firm on the ground when you move to stand in between them. they're off the ground a moment later when you push him back into the bed with an 'umph' and a hug that pulls both your bodies flush against each other's.

you'd go on about it for days but to you, doyoung has always been a silent lover. a kind of lover that people would mistake as just 'a friend of yours' or sometimes even a brother, cousin, relative of the sorts. by no means is he vocal with his love for you, and though times are abundant when you find yourself at dead ends with the thoughts of how he seemingly flits between, in and out of love, the one thing that never fails to reassure you is how he holds you tight.

forehead on his chest and arms laced around his back, you do your best to hold him as closely as he does you but it's impossible, you think, and not because of his so-called 'muscles.' the intimacy you share with him is bred from comfort, apprehension, normality. it's apparent when he next speaks, voice lower and reserved for when you are close and the tingling feeling in his heart softens his regard a tenfold, "excited?"

you lift your head to peer up at him. the same softness is returned in your one-word response, "elated," as you thud your temple back upon his chest. the chuckles he give reverberate beneath you, "sarcasm or no?" a shake of your head is given but doyoung craves more. hands on your waist, he manhandles you, in the gentlest possible way, so that your head lies in the dip of his neck, arms around his shoulder, and legs on either side of him. he knows that at this point, your energy is already teetering the lines of consciousness. he makes the most of what little you have left.

"kiss me?"

a sloppy peck is left at the foot of his neck and your lips stay there for the rest of the night.

the wind slaps at the skin of your face. you swipe away a hair or two that it'd blown into your mouth, open as you exclaim into the wide air before you. the city air is noticeably laden with light pollution and carbon emissions alike but it's refreshing to you who has spent the greater part of the day limited to a cramped airplane seat. the shuffle of feet, a sound that's barely discernible in the mix of whizzing cars and honks, calls for your attention from behind. heeding to it, you find doyoung, swaddled in a sizeable down coat, with his eyes squinted in the wind. "coming in soon? you've been out here yelling for almost twenty minutes."

you give him a look that makes it seem as if the situation were of a scolding mom and a naughty child. it's like you're adhering to the script because apprehensiveness does indeed rest in your wary response, "i just wanted to try it, like how they do in the dramas, you know?"

his tone chides, "yeah, yeah i know," while dragging you back inside the warmth of the hotel room, sitting you atop the bed, crouching before you. "doyoung, what are you-" though bizarre, the prospect of a ring emerging from behind his back does cross your mind. instead, he draws forth a bottle of wine.

you comment on it a little later, four hours, with jaehyun sprawled upon the bed to your left, snores loud and resounding in between the sentences of your hushed (and very much drunken) conversation. "you know, earlier when you brought out the wine, i thought you were actually going to propose to me." under the lamplight from the bedside table, your boyfriend's cheeks are tinged a soft pink, flusteredness maybe, inebriation surely. his head slops forwards onto your stomach, off and out of the hold of his palm, and lolls there for awhile before his dwindling bouts of energy jolt him upright. the sudden movement of his elbows digging into your abdomen have you groaning until a light smack is landed on his forehead. doyoung gives you a sleazy smile.

"maybe."

suddenly you're very much sobered up. "what'd you say?" though doyoung is still very much intoxicated as his head tumbles down upon your stomach once more, mumbling against your skin, "i did bring a ring to surprise you. i don't know if now's the time though, what do you think?" you don't think, in fact, you are completely and utterly void of thoughts. his, "hm?" pulsates from beneath you but even then, you're at a loss of words.

"i think—" i think yes. "i think you ought to go to sleep."

when you will your eyes upon his figure, perhaps a minute later, you find that per your instruction, he's already fast asleep.

the flight from jakarta to london is 15 hours (too) long and you'd planned to spend a good chunk of it doing what you were doing now, seat reclined the furthest possible and knees brought up to your chest to prop up your switch. you'd come to the conclusion that packing your earbuds in your suitcase that went into cargo was perhaps your first big mistake; your second, forgetting to ask doyoung for his before he fell asleep. with the volume turned to mute for the past four hours and counting, you scrunch your nose as your animal crossing character silently stumbles across another wasp-laden tree, third in a row, but before you're able to net it, your boyfriend stirs from beside you, his fingers tapping incessantly on your wrist to call for your attention. you glance over at him, "what?" and when you glance back to the screen, you're displeased, to say the least, to see that your character now has a swollen eye, courtesy of the wasp and its programmed sting.

the look on your face when you drop your feet to the ground, the device dropping to your lap, is enough to get doyoung to cut straight to the point. "i need to brush my teeth, wanna come with me?" puzzlement clouds your expression and he furthers in explanation, "you know, to save time?" still not quite getting his point, you nod along anyways, thinking a little walk and stretch to the bathroom wouldn't hurt. "okay."

taking his outstretched hand, the journey to the bathroom turns out to to be the most stressful. the whole row of three very tall men (jungwoo, jaehyun, and johnny in that order) with their very long legs making the situation a lot more complicated than need be. you end up tripping once over jungwoo's left foot, twice over jaehyun's right shoe, and thrice over johnny's right knee, a lot higher than where any normal knee should mark when planted straight on the ground.

the lock on the lavatory clicks shut behind you right when you realize just how small the compartment is. doyoung closes the toilet lid and props a knee upon it, leaving you with enough space to place your legs shoulder-length wide at most. you look over at him, or rather, you tilt your head slightly to the right and chuckle into the fabric of his hoodie, his chest pressed into your face. you manage between your chuckles, "go on, brush your teeth."

his arms bustle their way around and about you to grab at one of the packaged toothbrushes at the left of the sink and a paper cup at the right. there really is no way around it though a moment later, he relents by taking both legs upon the toilet seat to accommodate you. his kneeling stance stunts his height so that you're at about eye level with him. "here," you pass along the toothpaste and he flicks a dot of it on the brush. instead of stretching over to the sink, he simply passes along the toothbrush for you to run under water, passes the cup for you to do the same, and accepts them back with grateful hands. "you know, this would've been a lot more efficient if you'd just gone by yoursel—"

"i know," he says it as if unimpressed, though it sounds more like 'iiroe' (or some other incoherent keyboard spam) as he continues to brush his teeth. you prop your hands upon your hips, both elbows hitting opposing walls and a teasing lilt is added to your voice, "are you mad you brought me along?" you're not sure if he's smiling or if he's simply following through with his teeth-washing regimen. doyoung shakes his head, "no." you smile at that.

you know for a fact that he's smiling when the two of you switch spots, quite the haphazard move for your head clunks onto an overhanging cabinet while his back is then subjected to half your falling weight. a hand of yours is quick to clamp over his mouth right when you gather your bearings because his laughs come out loud in between panting breaths. you're terrified at the thought of being caught by a passing stewardess who'd suspected two people and some funny business upon breaking in, only to find two people, yes, but one brushing teeth on the closed toilet lid and the other laughing hysterically with a hand clutching his sore back.

doyoung backs out of the bathroom at first alone, head snapping left and right in a spy-in-a-secret-agent-movie-esque way, before tugging you behind him, the folding door clapping shut. he waits as you prod careful steps over the three soundly sleeping men and he grins when his turn comes and he epically fails in his attempt to cross over in one, sweeping step. he apologizes sheepishly at the three, now awake though still very tall, men and he turns back to you, only then letting the suppressed sniggers out.

if not your lover, doyoung is your best friend. there's something reassuring about having someone that always has your back. whether it just be laughing with you, crying with you, sitting with you in silence as you both scroll through your phones, or even now, as he peers over your shoulder to watch your little character fish the same sea bass over and over again. you like the comfort that you share with him, the comfort you were so lucky to have happened upon.

the armrest in between is pushed up as you slip your switch back into the front pocket of his backpack. doyoung holds an arm out and you slip into the warmth of his side, head bobbing to the turbulence and onto the heights of his shoulder. he glances down at you, briefly, and when your eyes meet his, they curve into the sleepiest of smiles. the two of you sleep with the pace of your breaths in tandem with each other's, the two of you wake under the announcements of a landing, and your fingers hook onto the sides of his backpack as he leads the way off the plane, in a single file line all the way.

doyoung drapes a jacket over your shoulders the second you break the open air of london and he hooks the same jacket above your head where the awning of the airport stops and the thundering skies continue their downpour where it left off. his hand provides cover as you duck into the car, so as to prevent you from hitting the frame of the door, and when he slides in, right next to you as always, you grab his hand in your own, eyeing each other with the indications of a smile.

it's then, as you point to the little droplets that whizz across the window of the car, that doyoung finds himself face to face with the same conclusion that he comes to time and time again. he loves you, a lot.

the palm of his hands slide down the satin fabric of his slacks, repeatedly. the look you throw his way has him gulping. "you sure you're not nervous?" his hands stop midway, too obvious it seems. "not at all." a quirk of your lips is given in response as you take the seat next to him in the waiting room. you watch as he tucks his bottom lip under teeth and you watch as his hands shift in their continuation down his thighs but retract and interlink as if they'd remembered not to do so. a stage manager knocks once before bursting in, sweat trickling down the sides of her face and a side of her headphones pulled backwards of an ear. she pants though the show has yet to begun. "five minutes and he has to get backstage," is what she directs at you and you pair your nod with a kind smile, signaling her exit.

the interaction only seems to ignite increasing bouts of anxiety from your already antsy boyfriend so you take his hands in yours, situating your body a smidgen to the right, and do your best to absorb his attention in something, anything else that could sidetrack his nerves for just those five minutes.

"excited for tomorrow?" doyoung's hands squirm in yours and his facial expression morphs into a flicker of confusion before righting itself and following through with a reply, albeit half-hearted, "yeah, i guess."

"it's your first day off in awhile," you give his hand a squeeze, "and we get to explore the city, all by ourselves." he only nods along and though you're sure your attempt is futile, you hope that it falls through, "and new york's up next huh, i bet the snow will be real prett-"

"what are you getting at?"

it takes a second for you to process what he'd just did, what he'd just said, "what?" though looking at him, he's nonchalant as ever; the tone in which he rejoins makes it seem as if he's ticked off somehow, "why are you telling me this?"

doyoung's brows draw to a point and it throws you off. he is ticked off. and it's plausibly that realization that gets you taking a stand for yourself as well, voice now clipped, "i just thought that i could preoccupy your thoughts for a bit, you seem so ne-"

"y/n." stopped in your tracks, you blink back at him benumbed. "i've already got enough on my plate as it is, why can't you just let me deal with my own shit?"

there's something brooding beneath the face you put on for him. he sees it surfacing and he has enough sense to pay mind to it. that is, until you retort, "your own shit? then why the fuck am i-"

"yes, my own shit. last i checked, i'm the one going up on that stage tonight so stop talking as if it's our job." and his defenses are held back up, sky-high, untouchable. doyoung's scowling at you as if you've never been more wrong in your life when in fact, you're almost positive that he's never been more at fault. the clench in his jaw, his hardened eyes, edged stance, everything about him in the moment jars you and you want nothing more than to punch him square in the nose (you do have quite the mad uppercut) but you restrain yourself under the pretense that he's minutes, maybe even seconds, away from being called to the stage, to perform.

sighing, the only thought that comes to your mind as you gather your bearings along with your belongings is the feeling that creeps between the synapses that once had held tight in your belief of his support, of his leniency, of his affections when it came to you. you swallow thickly, bag in hand and other hand reaching out for your coat, because you're sure you've never felt as unwanted as you do now, in front of him, glowering in your presence. at least the glint in his eyes soften when you come to a stop in front of him.

doyoung peers up at you then, dubiously, and the first urge he receives is to duck his head back down. he feels small, and not because he's sitting and you're standing. he feels small, infinitesimal, with the knowledge that somewhere in those five minutes, things had gone awfully awry with little hope in rectifying in the little time left. the air that hangs heavy between the two of you remains silent, save for the unspoken passing of words that neither of you acknowledge. you're the first, and last, to break it.

"are you mad you brought me along?"

doyoung wishes he'd been quicker in denying. maybe that would've been enough to keep you from excusing yourself the second the stage manager had made her reappearance. maybe that would've been enough to get you to stay, to watch him, to cheer him on, to support him. maybe that would've calmed his nerves, finally, at last. he doesn't know, he's having a hard time deciphering his thoughts, chunking through his regrets, wallowing in his worries.

doyoung gets into position. the only thing he knows is that he's in the right spot, the glow-in-the-dark tape tells him so. he'll have to sing soon, and maybe his scratchy voice will add to his pile of regrets. he'll have to dance too, to remember formations, stage directions, but the idea seems so far away, foreign, when all he can think of is the look on your face as the seconds dragged on, waiting for him to say 'no,' to say 'of course not,' to say 'i'm sorry, i love you.'

he's having a hard time because even now, long after you've left, the words stay lodged in his throat. and as the screams from just beyond grow louder and louder, as the lights overhead grow brighter and brighter, doyoung finds himself face to face with the same conclusion that he comes to time and time again. he needs you, he needs you more than ever.

it's dark and cold when doyoung first enters. to the right, he flicks the light on mindlessly to be met with an empty room. he supposes that it's warranted. setting his backpack upon the bed, sheets still pulled crisp and unfurled, he almost succumbs to the taunts of sleep that entice him but a single thought of you rectifies him, hand fishing out his phone from a back pocket of his jeans.

it's then that he notices, with a startle that rivals a starring victim in a horror movie, the door to the balcony propped open a finger's length. he takes a glance back at the entrance to see your discarded shoes that had went unnoticed just seconds before, he figures. the curtains that skirt the adjacent windows billow in the wind that veers past the crack allotted, the gusts that becomes stronger and more fervid with each step doyoung takes in the direction. there's no creak that accompanies the swinging of the door, though he wishes there were so he wouldn't have to break his presence to you so suddenly. the second thing he notices, just behind the fact that you are indeed out here, is that the air is a biting cold, explaining the initial temperature he was met with upon entering.

you're wearing the same, thin sweatshirt that you had donned for your backstage viewing of the concert, regrettably the coat had been neglected in your state. from the far edge of the balcony, you know there's a whole world splayed out before you, buildings lower, taller, equally as tall as the high-rise of your hotel, winding streets that never seemed to end, traffic that never seemed to move. you know, but it's impossible to see for yourself with the tears in your eyes that come as fast as they go.

time is stagnant, has been for hours upon hours, for you. for you also, crying is foreign territory, really, you'd like to consider yourself headstrong in the face of conflict and composed in the face of inner turmoil. it feels silly to find yourself hundreds of feet in the air and hundreds of miles away from home, sobbing in the light of an ineffectual fight with your boyfriend of three years. and it isn't as if the fight proved detrimental to the relationship, it was trivial in all the ways that pointed to the single course of action being to simply make up with him and move on. but somehow, your hesitance holds in resilience.

you don't want to admit how unnerving it was to see an argument stem from such a small trifle, such a small amount of time, such a lack of care. why is it that situations that seem so small in their doing hold the most significance in their passing?

doyoung clears his throat and now you're the starring victim in a horror movie. a, "holy fuck!" accompanies the startle and the knuckle-white grip that both of your hands impose upon the rail. he steps fully out of the hotel room, into the frigid air of a london night, a london midnight in the middle of winter. "sorry, i- i'm back." rather lame but there's little headspace for you (or him for the matter) to process that.

with a hand still on the nob, doyoung stands stiff across from you who is slowly but surely withering in the realization of how pitiful you must look, hair mussed in the wind, tear tracks evident, and the remnant pants that your hiccups had left in the wake of your breakdown. if not pitiful, then straight up pathetic.

"are you okay?"

you blink at him. there's not much else you can say except, "yeah, i'm okay."

doyoung takes a step closer, a hand off the nob and the door clicks shut behind him. two more steps and he's a two foot distance from where you're stood on the far right of the terrace, gaze intent on his every action. he doesn't say anything at all, and what vexes you the most, he simply opens his arms wide, a forlorn sort of smile settling across his features. his apology.

there's not much else you can do except to give in to his embrace, reminiscent of all the love you've ever come to know, all the love you will ever know. you cry again, once in his arms; something about the smell of him, the warmth he gives off on a cold winter night, that gets you sniffling into his chest, finger fisting his own sweatshirt at the small of his back. a hand of his rounds your figure and holds you upright, the other is lain on the back of your head, soft strokes to tell you that he does care, he's here for you. really, the one thing that never fails to reassure you is how he holds you tight.

hundreds of miles from home, scratch that, because right there in his arms, there is nothing more convincing than the fact that doyoung is your home, you are home.

mark sips on his smoothie until the straw begins to make those whistle-y, echo-y sounds that tell of how he's finished the drink. a passing waitress takes the emptied glass from him and he gives a nod to her muttered, "refill?"

glancing back, he's met with a plate of food that's been cleared for a good while now and a table of mostly drunk boys that can't seem to get a hold of themselves. taeil, quite the horrific drunk, is slopped over haechan's side. neither of them seem to notice. and then there's yuta, taeyong, and jungwoo, all seated in a row and all with their heads fallen straight on the table, backs hunched over. sicheng and johnny are nowhere to be seen but mark supposes it wouldn't be all that odd to find one of them lain out flat on the floor, or underneath the table, or even suspended from the ceiling at this point.

mark glances across the table, locks eyes with jaehyun who had also decided to remain sober for the night. jaehyun gives a nudge of his head over to his right, to where mark looks to his left to see you and doyoung at the end of the table engrossed in conversation, so much so that it seems as if you're leaning into each other, elbows propped on the table and all. he could chalk it up to the speakers, the music was turned pretty loud, so naturally you'd lean in to hear the other better. or maybe, mark thinks, maybe the two of you are just naturally drawn to each other, a thing that happens to couples as he'd heard, subconscious actions like these are plausible as well. or maybe, mark thinks, but his train of thought is interrupted when the waitress returns with his strawberry smoothie, straw exchanged and drink refilled. he takes it from her, a gracious, "thank you," supplied and when she turns to leave he takes a sip, turning back himself.

whatever made it into his mouth is spat right back out when he sees the scene unfolding before him. here is mark's inner narration on what's happening:

doyoung-hyung's not in his seat, huh. oh there, he's standing, no wait—now he's kneeling, oh, he's kneeling. what's he getting from his pocket? a box, it's a teeny box. he's opening teeny box, oh fuck, oh jesus, oh he's proposing. he's asking you to marry him. oh my god, what if you don't say ye-

"yes."

✧ end note — hey anon, i hope that you thought it was a GOOD fic. if not, ahem, i apologize for taking up your time. but really, this fic holds together so many mini ideas that i had but were never substantial enough to turn into writing so thank you for giving me a base to build off of, i enjoyed writing it very much <3

#neowritingsnet #neothestars #doyoung fic #doyoung fluff #doyoung angst #neo-constellations #neoculturecafe #nct doyoung #doyoung x reader #doyoung scenarios #nct scenarios #nct fics #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes #requested

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

Text

An Iron Box - Perfect Portrait

On the off-chance anyone’s still reading this series, I hope you enjoy this update.

It may be shorter, but it’s a scene between Chishiya and MC/Reader that was in my mind but I never put it into the original fic :)

You can also find it here on AO3.

If you haven’t read the original, you can find it either pinned to my Tumblr or on AO3 here.

Thanks so much for reading. It means the world <3

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

People were so predictable. Even in a world where you can’t trust anyone, they still look for someone to connect with.

It seemed that saving (name) from that awkward situation at the bar did the trick, as afterwards, she clung to Kuina’s side – and by extension, my own. However, there was a slyness in her eyes whenever she looked at me. A calculating curiosity that revealed her distrust for me.

And yet, it didn’t keep her from seeking me out.

One morning, several days later, I headed downstairs earlier than usual, hoping to enjoy the rare quiet as I ate breakfast.

While the bread from supermarkets was inedible, flour and yeast were perfectly intact, and with the Beach’s over-abundance of electricity, making bread was a favourite pastime for the former-chefs and bakers living here. And so, grabbing two slices of toast from the kitchen, I took a seat at a table in the far corner of what would have been the hotel’s restaurant.

Soon enough, people would filter down from their rooms and the usual circus would begin. But for now, it was silent. Peaceful. I lifted a piece of toast.

‘一緒に朝ご飯食をべないか.’ Do you want to eat breakfast together?

Typical.

I put the toast down. ‘You’re leaving too big a gap between words. It sounds unnatural.’

Something brushed against my hood as she hovered behind my chair. ‘Teach me to sound natural then.’

‘No.’

‘どうして.’ How come?

Perhaps she would leave soon. If I waited until she disappeared, I might actually be able to enjoy my breakfast in peace.

It’ll be cold by then.

Weighing up the options, I gave in and took a bite of my toast. ‘Because you’ll only learn by speaking it more,’ I said, swallowing. ‘And also because I don’t want to. You should practise on Kuina instead.’

She circled around the table, holding a small bowl of dried fruit in one hand. There was a screech as she pulled out the chair opposite and sat down. I turned away, looking out of the window instead, but in the corner of my eye I could see her watching me, fingers playing with the bowl of fruit. She was still wearing my hoodie.

‘Kuina doesn’t speak English as well as you do.’ She huffed. ‘And if I make a mistake, she doesn’t tell me what’s wrong. I think it’s a Japanese thing. Everyone here is so polite, and nobody wants to correct you if you have bad grammar.’ She paused. ‘But you will.’

So I’m rude enough to correct her, hm?

She wasn’t wrong. But this still wasn’t enough of a reason to make me want to waste my time teaching her a language that she would pick up eventually.

‘You do have terrible grammar,’ I said. ‘You sound like a textbook.’

When she shifted her chair closer, I instinctively leaned away. ‘I know. I probably have a foreigner’s accent too. But I need you to tell me how I can get better.’

She did have an accent, strong yet not unpleasant. And surprisingly, I didn’t mind it. I knew I had an accent whenever I spoke English, but it was only normal. As for not sounding like a cardboard character in a language textbook? Well... she was clever enough to figure it out by herself.

Picking up my second piece of toast, I began to take a bite when a set of fingers wrapped around my forearm.

And there it was again.

That warmth

It was just like in the pharmacy when her knee had touched mine. That same warmth seeped into my skin, humming under the surface. A shiver ran through my body, and I yanked my wrist away, severing all contact.

For the first time this morning, I looked at her fully, seeing the briefest flicker of astonishment in her expression before it relaxed into idle curiosity. If she was surprised by my reaction, she didn’t comment on it.

Instead, she shifted in her seat, chewing uncomfortably on her dried fruit. ‘By the way, you never told me how you learned English? Did you study abroad?’

The question took me back a few years, to those nights spent in my bedroom as a child, pouring over language textbooks. The one-sided conversations with myself, the books I had spent hours picking apart and translating until the early hours of the morning.

‘I was bored as a child, so I taught myself a language.’

Her eyes widened. ‘When you say you were a child...’

‘I was seven when I started learning.’

I was seven when I gave the housekeeper some of my pocket money and asked her to buy me an English language dictionary. And even when she asked my father if it was alright, he didn’t once turn to look.

(Name) shook her head in disbelief, and muttered under her breath, ‘that’s insane.’

By now, we were no longer alone. People were filtering in regularly, filling the tables as they chatted with friends about their recent games. I put my headphones in, hoping that she would take a hint and find someone else to have breakfast with. Only, she remained seated, munching on a dried apricot.

‘Perhaps,’ I said, ‘but if a seven-year-old can do better than you, maybe I made a mistake in bringing you here.’

She pulled a face and boldly took one of my headphones out. ‘Maybe you should convince Hatter to let me leave.’

I glanced down at my earbud twirled between her fingers, before meeting that wide-eyed stare. ‘Maybe I don’t want to.’

Maybe you’re too valuable to let go.

There was a moment of quiet where neither of us looked away. She was close enough that I could see the variation of colours in her eyes, and the slight hint of pink washing over her cheeks. So that’s what she was thinking of. How very amusing.

If she had feelings for me, it would certainly be easier to convince her to go into the royal suite. But then again, she would cling to me in that annoying way.

And I don’t have the patience for that.

Breaking eye contact, I retrieved my headphone from her fingers. ‘Don’t get the wrong idea. You’re useful to have here at the Beach. It would be a shame to let you go.’

‘I’d be more useful if you helped me learn Japanese.’

‘No.’

At this, she turned away. For a long moment, neither of us spoke and I was just starting to enjoy the silence when she mumbled, ‘has it occurred to you that you’re the only one I can actually talk to?’

Ch... that’s a lie.

She had Kuina. The two of them got along rather nicely, and (name) was still blissfully unaware that none of it was real.

Ignoring her comment, I left to take my plate back to the kitchen, but when I re-entered the restaurant area, I noticed that every table was full. That was, except ours. Elbow on the tablecloth, (name’s) hand rested over her mouth, the smallest hint of a frown tugging at the corners. She was staring vacantly at the tiny bowl of half-eaten dried fruit.

‘Has it occurred to you that you’re the only one I can actually talk to?’

Understanding dawned on me. She stuck out like a sore thumb, alone on a table for four.

The other Beach members were avoiding her, probably because they knew only high school English and assumed she wouldn’t be able to speak Japanese. Even when talking to Kuina, I had seen her mixing up the two languages, sometimes struggling to understand small miscommunications.

Her expression reminded me of the Mona Lisa, those trips to the Louvre where I was made to tag along on my parents’ business trips, only to be left in the hands of his uninterested assistant. (Name) wasn’t smiling, but there was something hiding beneath the slight pull of her lips that echoed DaVinci’s painting. It was something uniquely human that I couldn’t seem to read.

It was enigmatic.

But it was also a perfect portrait of isolation. Everyone wants someone to understand them, to be seen for who they really are. And she was no exception.

The thought pulled at me, persistent, but I pushed it well away. If she was isolated, it would come in handy later on. So long as Kuina and I were the only people she could comfortably talk to, she would be more easily swayed into relying on us.

And when I do send her into the Royal Suite, she’ll have no reason not to trust me.

With that thought, I left her there alone in the hotel restaurant.

Later that night, it wasn’t until the clock ticked into the early hours of the morning that the hotel finally fell into a slumber. And it was then that I slipped out into the empty hallways.

The meeting room was lit only by the faint yellow glow of the patio’s outdoor lights. It wasn’t much against the darkness of an empty Tokyo, but it was enough to illuminate the pinboard propped up against the far wall. Names and numbers had been tacked on, all split into groups of four or five in preparation for tomorrow’s games.

My eyes scanned over the board, narrowing down on the one name that stood out in katakana, Niragi’s kanji right beside it.

But it was only when I switched Niragi’s name with my own, that her enigmatic frown appeared behind my eyes once more. That same portrait of isolation that haunted the back of my mind.

#alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland

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anauthore · 3 years

Text

Not Much of A Partygoer (Kenny McCormick x Reader) {SERIES | Two}

Summary: (Y/n) drinks to forget her parents. Good thing Kenny is great at handling drunk people.

Pairing: Kenny McCormick x Reader (she/her pronouns) - South Park

NOTE: Every part of this series can be read as stand-alone, or as part of the series itself! If you don’t want to read each part on Tumblr, feel free to check out links to the work on the below websites:

Wattpad | Quotev | AO3

Fic Below the Cut | Previous Part | Next Part

The door slammed. You didn’t flinch because, unfortunately, you were used to things like that. Your door was ajar and your earbuds were in. Even though one side was quieter than the other, they did a good enough job blasting music into your ears and drowning out the noise of arguing and yelling.

* * *

The night, again, was cold. It always seemed like it was chilly here in Colorado, but you didn’t really mind. You liked the cold, anyway. You’d always thought that being cold was better than being hot.

The wind was surprisingly absent as you walked toward the address you’d scribbled on a piece of paper, squinting to search for the numbers on each mailbox in order to ensure you were in the right place. When you did eventually get there, though, the abundance of noise and flashing lights in the window was all you needed to confirm that you had indeed shown up at the party that you had, for some reason, been invited to.

You walked up the walkway, your feet gripping the stone easily as it had both been shoveled and salted. You naively knocked on the door before realizing there was a doorbell. You ringed it a couple times, waiting for an answer, but when none came, you leaned toward an opened window to peek inside.

Just as you focused on two dark-haired boys chatting in the corner with cups filled with what you assumed was alcohol, the door opened and the noise rushed into the open like waves crashing over you.

* * *

You had been in the middle of switching songs. The angry music you listened to only exasperated your feelings, and you weren’t in the mood for sad sounds. To your dismay, you never got the chance to hear whatever it is you were searching for.

Your door, already propped open so that your mom could see you were diligently working on your schoolwork, slammed against the opposite wall with enough force that you jumped. You looked up and locked eyes with your mom’s boyfriend- he was standing in the doorway and gesturing wildly, still in his Winter jacket with his tie peeking out from over the top.

His voice boomed as you were well accustomed to, but even then you couldn’t keep his words from drowning you.

“And your daughter, this little wench, she’s probably a slut just like you! Look at her; look at her room! And the clothes she wears, it’s completely unacceptable. If I were anyone else I’d be after her right now.”

You furrowed your brows in disgust and anger. What the fuck was happening? You opened your mouth to say something, but you couldn’t get a word out before he stood to the side and pointed into the hallway, looking directly at you as he commanded you toward the kitchen.

* * *

In the doorway was the silhouette of someone you recognized, and though you wouldn’t consider her a friend to you, she sure was a sight for sore eyes.

Wendy Testaburger waved to you and smiled happily, as she always did, and then beckoned you inside. You couldn’t help but smile back at her as you climbed the steps, and, like she did with almost every girl she saw, she enveloped you in a tight hug before she let you go.

“I’m so glad you came! I was starting to think you’d never show.” She closed the door behind you and instantly you were a hundred times warmer. You almost felt suffocated.

“Yeah, well, I had nothing else better to do.” You shrugged it off.

She rolled her eyes playfully and picked up a cup from the side table that you assumed was hers. You didn’t have to peek inside to know that the liquid that sloshed around inside the plastic barrier was not alcohol. Wendy didn’t drink.

“Here, follow me,” she beckoned you over and started walking through the sparse crowd in the living room. You glanced around and recognized some kids from school, but obviously none of them were your friends.

“So, this is the punch, and this is the punch.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head only slightly and handed you a plastic cup that looked like both hers and everyone else’s.

“Choose wisely.”

* * *

“(Y/n), do you mind telling me what the fuck you think you’re doing?”

You looked to your mother for comfort, but she was just as angry as her partner. You had no idea what to say, so you shrugged.

“Don’t shrug at me! You know damn well what you’re getting into, sleeping around and doing drugs. Don’t act like you don’t know!”

You reached your breaking point. You felt your own voice rise up out of your chest and scream, all the words that were bouncing around in your brain finally forming into something other than thoughts.

“I’m not doing fucking anything! You’re so preoccupied with blaming me that you forget you’re dating a crackhead with a daughter who hasn’t done jack. shit. You think I wanna end up like her, dating someone like you?”

The cold slap that stung on your cheek froze you. This time, your mother was fuming, her fist balled up as tight as she could make it.

You scoffed, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you pushed back your chair and slammed the door shut behind you, welcoming the wind as you strode toward any direction at all. Anywhere that would take you away from here.

* * *

The moment the punch touched your lips, you were instantly warmed. You sighed and watched Wendy walk away, waving as she departed and fazed into the crowd. It was quiet where you stood; the tiny nook in the kitchen where the two bowls sat are the only thing that drew people into the room. You thought about leaning against the wall and staying away from everyone, but you were cold, and it was warmer where all the action was, so you headed towards the living room with an arm wrapped around your frame and your hand gripping your cup.

Music vibrated the floor through huge speakers stationed in the corner of the room, and you were grateful that it wasn’t any louder than that. Some kids sung to themselves while others were swaying to the rhythm; everyone was congregated in some sort of group, leaving you to be the odd one out. As always.

Or at least, you were for a moment or two before one of the boys in the corner came over to recruit you for a game of beer pong. You shook your head, and he nodded, stalking off to find someone else- behind him trailed a familiar blond, probably looking for the same thing. Your gaze met his for a brief moment; you don’t know what you expected, but he left as quickly as he had come.

You took another sip. And then another. Two more trips to refill your cup later, Wendy once again met you in the kitchen.

“Hey girl! Having fun?”

You smiled politely, and muttered a reply, but of course she knew better.

“C’mon, (Y/n)! It’s not a party unless you’re enjoying yourself. Actually- wanna join my team? We’re playing beer pong, we need one more person for it to be even.”

You hesitated, but you didn’t get a chance to answer before she walked off, expecting you to follow her.

And that you did. You caught up and followed her like a dog, not wanting the crowd to close in on you and trap you in the sea of strangers. You barely paid attention to her, your eyes glued to her feet as she weaved in and out of rooms and obstacles until finally, finally, you reached the garage.

The draft made you shiver. There were significantly less people here than inside, but the atmosphere was playful as the small group of beer-pongers whooped and cheered for Wendy, having made the score even. You smiled nervously, finishing the last of your drink before setting the cup down on whatever clear surface available.

Wendy stood with you and two other girls who you didn’t recognize at all, while the opposing team was made up of Kenny, the black-haired guy you saw walking around earlier, some redhead, and the ever infamous Cartman. You had an opinion on at least a few people here, but your facial expression gave nothing away. You just watched, and when it was your turn, you played.

You missed your first few shots, with jeers from Cartman and the telltale mumbling of Kenny, followed by laughter and kind words from Wendy. The fifth or so time around, one of your teammates was getting fed up with you.

“Fuck, why can’t you make a ball! We’re getting obliterated! Are you already that drunk?”

“Bebe! C’mon, she has as much of a chance as anyone here.” You could tell she was holding back a smile just to be polite. The boys snickered and your face turned red, but that could also be the alcohol settling in your empty stomach.

"Hey, make another shot.” One of the kids opposite to you nodded his head in your direction, glancing at your hands before he tossed a white ping-pong ball toward you to catch. You did so in the palm of your hand, looking at Wendy for approval. You prepared yourself once more, planting your foot and squinting an eye to aim. Then, the ball that had been grasped so gingerly between your thumb and forefinger was released, and unsurprisingly, you missed any and all cups in front of you. You sighed and stepped back, but then your opponent spoke once more.

“Now, drink. Here, take mine.” He searched around and handed you his cup full of punch, which you had no other choice but to take from him. Cartman snickered and you stared into the liquid’s daunting face before drinking. Around you erupted clapping and laughter.

“Alright, so (Y/n)’s gonna drink every time she misses? That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?”

Wendy tapped Bebe’s arm and shook her head, then whispered something into her ear. Bebe rolled her eyes and seemed to drop the subject, though her attitude didn't waver.

Not many more rounds later, and everything started to spin. The walls were moving back and forth like you were on a boat, and your feet couldn't feel the floor underneath you anymore. Your mind buzzed as you fumbled with the ball and tossed- you didn’t see where it went, but you did hear the crescendo of ‘ooo’-ing rise around you. Wendy moved in front of you, taking hold of your shoulders and shaking you, a huge smile on her face. Her voice was shrill and easy enough to focus on; “You did it! You made the shot!”

“I- what?” You looked behind her and saw the sea of red cups half-filled with liquid, and in the midst of one, an unmistakable white orb. A cheeky smile spread across your face and you laughed. “I did it- holy shit, I did it! I get to drink!”

Wendy stepped out of the way and watched as you stepped forward and plucked the cup of alcohol off the table, tossing the ball to the side and chugging it. It burned, especially on the edge of your lips, but the warmth spread throughout your body and you quickly forgot about the burning sensation. You sat the cup down- the empty plastic fell to the side and you wiped your mouth and neck with your sleeve, cringing at the stickiness the drink left behind. You swayed, smiled, and gave two thumbs up to the other team, who started to laugh at your antics.

“Woah, okay, (Y/n), look at me.”

Wendy’s hand supported your back as you stumbled. The muffled party music had somehow infiltrated your brain, and you swear you could feel it. In your chest, your hands, your… toes.

“Look, guys, she’s fuckin’ trashed. Who wants to bet on when she’ll dance topless on the table?”

Someone elbowed Cartman in the side and he glared back. Wendy shot him a dirty look and nudged you toward the garage door, but your drunken state was clearly something she was not used to handling.

“(Y/n)- c’mon, we have to get you some food. Or at least to lay down, okay?”

You nodded, but then shook your head. “No, no I wanna play, I’m just getting good!”

Wendy opened her mouth to speak, but someone else interrupted her before she could.

“Hey, here, let me help.”

Kenny stepped around the white, pop-up table and ignored the nudges from Cartman and Stan. Wendy turned to look at him, sans his orange parka, with a raised brow. He, of course, completely understood the implications his demeanour had on this sort of situation. In any other case, Wendy would not let someone like him near a drunk girl such as yourself, but in this instance, he was way better at handling these situations than she was.

He put his hand around the small of your back, with the other hand on your shoulder to steer you. He pushed you toward the door and said something to Wendy. It was apparently the right thing to say, because she nodded and went back to the game, though not after she made sure you were safely in the other room.

The lights were darker inside than in the garage, so you found yourself depending on Kenny to guide you around. Your closeness allowed the telltale scent of cigarettes and musk, and now alcohol, to find its way to your nose, and immediately you were taken back to the night however many weeks ago that you’d been with him.

He steadied you as you swayed back and forth, nudging you up the stairs and into a room with a bed. You laughed, and he said something that you couldn’t quite make out before you realized he wanted you to lay down. You tried to shed your jacket, but the material felt disgusting to your senses, so you gave up and collapsed into the blankets. Your whole body buzzed, like every nerve ending was set on fire but at the same time lulled to sleep.

Kenny closed the door. The old floor underneath you creaked as he approached, and his hands found your body- they were surprisingly warm, and you got lost in his touch. It made you suddenly seem cold, and you tried to push toward him before you realized what could be happening and let the alarm bells go off in your head.

He pulled off the other arm of your windbreaker and threw it to the floor. You looked up, though unable to focus, and found him, back turned to you as he searched for something. Your pulse picked up, and you wanted to run. You knew how this would end- you were drunk, you could barely move, and it was so easy for him to just-

A warmth covered you that was definitely not there before. It was fuzzy, and so soft, and then you realized it was a blanket. You smiled and rubbed your skin against the faux fur, shivering as your heat spread out underneath the cover. You tried to thank Kenny, for being better than you thought he was, but your voice was both muffled by the blanket and by your drunken haze.

Kenny sat next to you and watched you drift in and out of sleep. He stared at a wall, or sometimes at you, but either way he was sensible enough to keep anything or anyone else from coming in to disturb you.

You’d grown used to him being next to you. You’d half-dream, being alerted by the prospect of him moving, and then comforted to find that he was still sitting there, at the end of the mattress, lost in his own thoughts.

Right before you fell to sleep, you’d opened your eyes to find that he was slipping out of the door. You’d spoken, almost pleaded, to him.

“You’re leaving?”

He turned to you with a gaze that you couldn’t place. You could also barely see it. “Uh, I- yeah. I’m just getting a drink.”

You nodded. You didn’t hear him leave, but then again, the buzzing in your head was hard enough to hear past on its own.

“Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you, Kenny. Ken. Thanks.” You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness.

You didn’t know if he heard you, but you didn’t care enough to check. With that, your last words of the night, you were out, succumbing to the cocoon of sleep you desperately needed.

#anauthore #fanfiction #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny x reader #south park #south park fanfiction #series #part two #Kenneth McCormick #writers on tumblr #fanfiction on tumblr

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jazzstudied · 4 years

Text

How Hogwarts Houses Study

Hello guys! I had a lot of ideas for my first official post on Tumblr and eventually I have settled in creating this! It started off really serious but I also added some scenarios so it became like this! I literally have no idea if this has been done before and I thought I should give it a try- just for fun!

Online classes have yet to officially start for me so I have an abundant amount of time in my hands. I am sure that once they officially start, I wouldn’t have time to fantasize about being a student at Hogwarts!

Warning: I am also very sorry if some of these seem to be generalizations/ stereotypes. I thoroughly believe in the fact that everyone is different and just because they belong to a certain house, doesn’t mean they ‘study less’ or ‘study more’, etc. I think this is a very close-minded way of viewing things as everyone, no matter their house, can choose to study and to not study and have different reactions to stress/ have different study methods. I also think everyone at least belongs to two houses with varying percentages so there might be some overlap! Anyways, it is all in good fun! Enjoy!

The type to verbally recite the material in the halls for memorization, annoying everybody else in the process

Scrawled notebooks and underlined words for emphasis

Simplifies the concept for better understanding, repeatedly using the Feynman Technique

Struggles not to scream out the answer during lectures

Ink blobs seeping through the parchment

Bites their quill habitually

Breaks their quill habitually

The first to turn in assignments. ALWAYS. Slytherin is always in second.

Rushes through projects haphazardly

Likes ambient sounds during study sessions

Hits themselves on the head when trying to remember

Starts and finishes everything as soon as possible

Finishing matters more than perfection

Not afraid to challenge teachers

No one can tell the difference between a stressed out Gryffindor and a rabid squirrel

Memorization, memorization, memorization is key

Scrunches up the parchment

Remembers actions and physical procedures very well

“What the fuck are aesthetics and why should I care?” Gryffindor mutters defensively.

The type that gets distracted in study groups, prefers to study alone

Early riser

Sticky notes! Sticky notes everywhere!

Uses Feynman Technique and spaced repetition (with sticky notes!)

Very aggressive when distracted

Tiny bounces during lectures

Twiddles with thumbs

Most likely to participate eagerly in class

Wrong answers provide encouragement, giving light to the right ones

Beat themselves up when getting the question wrong a second time they encountered it

Bought multiple quills, parchment, inkwells, to color code different classes

Starts projects but struggles with finishing due to “not-being-good-enough” mentality

Always thinking that they are on the brink of failing but they are actually at the top of their class

Confident in work ethic but is insecure of those “with natural intelligence”

Believes 100% in the Effort Rule

Unintentionally charming to teachers

Willing to take leadership roles in groupwork. Is naturally talented in getting people to work together.

Spends a lot of time reading the material, triggering deep understanding

“Aesthetic, if functional, is important Gryffindor! Doesn’t it look cute?” Hufflepuff says brightly, showing the notes.

Probably made the biggest and most complicated mind map in the world

No one except they, themselves, can understand their notes (except Gryffindor, they understand each others notes for some reason)

Completely disregards the Feynman technique

Doing multiple things at the same time

No sleep

Is not aware of their keen memory. Would somehow remember the entire Section 7 Article 23 of Magical Theory but forget their shoes.

Memory is triggered by their passion on the subject

Can study well with other people but nobody studies with them because they can’t keep up with the madness (except Slytherin)

The type to completely dive into a subject to the point they get off track and suddenly they only have 30 minutes to deal with the other mountain of work they need to do

Looks like they slack off but they don’t, they are simply nocturnal

Has difficulty starting projects “There are many ways to think about this and I can’t just choose one!” mentality

Books. Brings them everywhere. Books.

Scolds Slytherin for writing in library books but does the same anyway

Has a love-hate relationship with the teacher

“You know what they say, Hufflepuff, the best aesthetic is pyrotechnics” Ravenclaw says, a spark forming at the end of their wand, while everyone panics.

Regularly talks to the teacher for information on upcoming assignments and tasks

Pokes holes through parchment

Thoroughly despises group work

Becomes a tyrant during group work

Likes to teach other people concepts but has to be buttered up before doing so

Memorizes by closing their eyes, mentally writing the answer, occasionally muttering

Spends the entire lecture charming Gryffindor's pens to slip from their hand everytime they try to write

Learns more on their own

Most likely to pretend they didn't study but literally spent 3 days without sleep just to get a perfect score

Obsessed with flashcards. Makes them all the time.

Complete silence during study sessions is a must therefore avoiding the Gryffindor is a must.

Finds Feynman Technique difficult because they want to include all the details and information

Too ambitious with their to-do list resulting either a soul-crushingly productive day or a burn-out day where they do absolutely nothing. No in-between.

Believes in “to hate the system is to play the system” so charming teachers requires effort, hitting their pride

Makes it their life goal to fool Gryffindor to quickly turn in assignments first in a ‘who-can-do-it-faster-’ battle so that they don’t double-check their answers, therefore getting a lower score

Has difficulty starting and finishing projects because they compare themselves to other people too much

Gets bored when there is no competition but gets butt-hurt if there is

“Hurry and blow it up Ravenclaw! Why give a warning so that they can run away?” Slytherin yells, from a safe 15 meter distance as the other students scatter from the flames.

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fanfalc-616 · 4 years

Text

Ok, so here’s my ‘literally elements’ AU, chapter one. It’s my first time making a fic on tumblr, so bear with me.

“Is- is there anything else that I, uh, that I can do for you, sir?” The shopkeeper stutters out, staring at Lloyd in awe.

The teen shakes his head. “No, but thanks anyway. And, er, call me Lloyd, okay?” He forces a smile. The reverence people show can get kind of annoying after a while. After all, he’s only been the Master of the Elements for a year now.

And with that, Lloyd takes the pack of supplies and heads out. It’s been over a month since he’s checked on the elementals, so he needs to get on that.

In all honesty, he’s been putting it off. He’d much rather play video games and read comics than micromanage them.

With a sigh, the blond heads out. He’s in Jamanakai Village right now, so the closest place would be Zane’s home, the Glacier Barrens.

It’s a good thing he can’t get frostbite.

—————————-

Lloyd sighs as he reaches the edge of the snowy area. Thankfully, the elementals typically seek him out as soon as he steps into their territory, which is nice.

And just like he assumed, moments after he crosses the threshold into what’s officially the Glacier Barrens, the snow beside him begins to shift, and Zane forms from the frost.

“Lloyd.” He greets. “It has been a while.”

The teen smiles. “It has.” He agrees. “How’s everything going?”

The Master of Ice frowns. “The snowfall has been quite heavy, and it has begun to grow beyond my territory. I am not sure what to make of this, but I do not believe it is cause for concern.”

Lloyd nods. “Interactions with the others?” He prompts.

“Jay has been visiting more often than usual, and I think something is troubling him. But beyond that, I have had no arguments or major difficulties with them.”

The Master of the Elements opens his mouth to ask his next question, but Zane continues speaking.

“However, I have had some minor earthquakes disturbing my routine, and have not heard from Cole in a while.”

Hmm. Well, he’ll have to look into that. Cole typically limits the earthquakes to non populated areas- but there have been times when people have annoyed him to the point of more major tremors.

“Anything else I should know about?” Lloyd brings himself back to the conversation.

Zane shakes his head. “No, that is it. Would you like to stay for lunch? I have been working on some new recipes.”

Lloyd smiles. Zane’s food is some of the best he’s ever had- likely because he’s practiced his cooking for millennia. And while he does need to check on the others, well… a quick bite wouldn’t hurt.

“I’d love to.”

So the Master of Ice leads him to his cooking space- he doesn’t really have a house, considering that he doesn’t need sleep.

He actually has an abundance of ingredients, which seems kind of unexpected, considering where he lives. But he typically gets them from one of the others- usually Cole- in exchange for some of the food he uses said ingredients to make.

They talk idly while Zane cooks, and continue to do so while they eat. Lloyd shares news about the outside world, and the elemental eagerly asks for more details.

But soon enough, he has to head out. Bidding Zane goodbye, he heads off to find some cave or underground tunnel.

It’s time to go talk to Cole.

———————

Before he makes it somewhere underground, he comes across a storm- or more accurately, the storm comes across him. Looks like Jay found him first.

And sure enough, the Master of Lightning materializes in front of him. “Hey!” He greets cheerfully. “How’s everything been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Lloyd hesitates a moment, trying to come up with an excuse. He can’t exactly tell Jay that he was avoiding talking to them.

“That new Fritz Donnagen comic came out.” It’s not quite a lie, one did come out recently- and he was one of the first ones in line to get it.

Jay lights up- literally. Sparks fly off of him, and the smell of ozone that follows him grows stronger. “It did? What happened?! How did he get away from the Imperial Sludge?!”

Lloyd stifles a laugh and pulls the comic out of his bag. “I brought it for you.”

The elemental attempts to grab it from him, but Lloyd pulls back, leaving him grasping at air. “First, I need a report on how everything’s been going.”

Jay huffs. “Okay, okay. There’s been a minor heat wave- which affects my storms, by the way- and Kai’s been acting weird, so I’m not sure what’s going on with that. And it’s starting to get harder to control the rain- which I did have less control over already, rain isn’t lightning- but this level of minimal control is just weird. And I’ve tried talking to Zane a lot, but he seems pretty busy with something, so he hasn’t really been up for chit-chat. And-“

“Hold on.” Lloyd puts his hands up. “What’s going on with Zane?”

“I don’t know. He seems kinda stressed about something. Not sure what, it’s kinda weird, actually.” Jay frowns. “Come to think of it, even Cole’s been acting kind of suspicious.”

“You’ve spoken to Cole recently?” The teen frowns. Zane said he hasn’t had any contact with him, so it’s good to see that someone has.

“Yep. We were on top of a mountain and I swear, he got so upset that it nearly split in two! We weren’t talking about anything that could upset him like that, so I’m really not sure what set him off. Can I have the comic now?”

The Master of the Elements shakes his head. “Not yet, I have more questions.”

A pout crosses the ginger’s face, and he crosses his arms. “Ughhh. What else do you need to know?”

“You said that Cole’s been upset, Zane’s been hyper focused, and that Kai’s been acting weird. What do you mean by weird?”

“Well, there’s been a big heat wave down in the Sea of Sand, and the Boiling Sea has just been a mess. It’s so hot over there, I can’t even use rain to cool things down! Not to mention that trouble I’ve been having with the rain…”

Lloyd feels his brows furrow. Hmm. That doesn’t sound good. And why wouldn’t Zane tell him about whatever he’s worried about? Nothing seemed to be bothering him when Lloyd was there, but then again, Jay knows him better.

This is what he gets for putting things off.

“Do you have any idea why they might be so stressed out?”

Jay shakes his head. “Nope. Well, Cole mentioned something about Serpentine, but I’m not really sure why that’s such a big deal- they’ve never done anything he can’t handle.”

Lloyd nods and hands Jay the comic. “Thanks. I’ll check up on everyone.”

The Master of Lightning waves with a smile. “Good luck!”

And with that, he vanishes back into the storm.

————————

Lloyd carefully makes his way down into a cavern- he doesn’t really have a particular one he heads to each time, he just trusts that Cole will find him once he’s underground.

And sure enough, rubble shifts, and the Master of Earth stands beside him, leaning against a cavern wall. “It’s been a little while. Is everything okay?”

The teen nods. “Got caught up with some other things. How’s everything going down here?”

Cole hesitates. “I’m having some trouble with my powers.” He admits bluntly, getting straight to the point. “The earth hasn’t been responding the way I want it to, and some Serpentine have been taking advantage of that.”

Lloyd frowns. “What do you mean, it hasn’t been responding the way you want it to?”

“Moving the earth around takes a lot more effort than it used to, and, well, sometimes it doesn’t work at all.”

“And you’ve never had trouble with this before?”

Cole shakes his head. “Never.” He confirms. “I tried to head over to talk to Zane about it, but I couldn’t get there. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get inside his territory- it’s like there’s an extra layer of frost outside it.”

Lloyd nods slowly. “That’s… odd. Jay and I didn’t have any trouble getting in.”

“I’m not sure what’s up with that, but I have talked with Kai. I think he’s getting close to snapping with how upset he is at this whole thing.” The Master of Earth admits.

Lloyd curses under his breath. Kai’s always had difficulties with self-control, and having trouble with his element is just going to make all of that worse.

“I’ll check up on him now, unless there’s anything else you need to tell me.” Damn, he should’ve gone straight to see him as soon as he knew something was up!

Cole shakes his head. “Good luck.” And with that, he disappears back into the rubble.

Lloyd takes a deep breath. Time to find the nearest volcano.

————————

Torchfire Mountain was quite a ways away from where he was, and Lloyd didn’t even realize it would have been faster to go to the Fire Temple until he was standing at the base of the volcano.

With a sigh, the Master of the Elements begins to trek up. It takes several hours, and by the time he’s at the top, he’s exhausted. Maybe going to visit everyone in one day was a bad idea.

He sits down on the edge of the volcano’s rim, looking down at the lava below.

“Lloyd!” Kai greets. The teen almost flinches from the way he suddenly appears in the ash beside him. “I haven’t seen you in a little bit. Everything’s okay, right? You’re not hurt?”

He nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Kai scooches closer, looking him over carefully. “You sure everything’s okay? If someone’s bothering you, I can-“

“I’m fine.” Lloyd interjects. “Really. But I’ve heard about everyone’s powers fluctuating, and I wanted to see if you’ve been having trouble with them, too.”

The Master of Fire looks away with a sigh. “Maybe a little bit.” He admits. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.” He tacks the end on quickly, but Lloyd knows him well enough to know that the elemental is just worried about being seen as weak.

“The others have been having trouble too.” Lloyd tells him. “I think that there’s something going on here.”

Kai pauses a moment, but then nods. “There might be something going on at the Fire Temple, I’ve been feeling something off around there for a week or two.”

“A week or two? Which was it, one or two? This is important!” Lloyd stares.

The elemental scratches the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face. “I’m not sure.” He admits. “When you’ve been alive as long as I have, time can get kinda fuzzy.”

A sigh escapes him, but he knows that he can’t blame Kai for that. The Master of Fire has been alive for eons, it’s a wonder he has a grasp on the length of human time periods at all.

“I’ll go check it out.” Lloyd decides. “Anything else I should know?”

Kai shakes his head. “Loss of powers has been the only main issue. I’ll see you at the temple?”

The Master of the Elements nods. “I’ll see you there.”

So he begins his trek over to the Fire Temple, which is a little under a dozen miles from where he is now.

Sometimes Lloyd hates his job.

#literally elements au #ninjago #ninjago au

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