#anyway... i think some of the parallels were a bit heavy-handed

[andorerso]

ANDOR APPRECIATION WEEK 2023 | @andorappreciation

↳ Day 4: Favorite Planets/Settings/Parallels: Favorite callbacks to Rogue One

#andorappreciation2023 #andoredit #andor #rogue one #rogueoneedit #swedit #theforcenetwork #starwarsblr #thestarwarsdaily #starwarshub #swcreators #*gifs #*andor #*ro #*1k #i think i would have done this gifset regardless #but ngl it is also a bit of pettiness after seeing those anon asks lmao #anyway... i think some of the parallels were a bit heavy-handed #but these ones i did genuinely enjoy

[makoodles]

neteyam's reader understands me like no other just like the sex education reader being open about how na'vi are hot and we deserve to be railed by one !!

anyway love parallel of father and son being like. Please Just Ask Me I've Been Yearning hahah. no rest for that family just every generation dealing with a small human trying to sleep with other na'vi while they suffer in the background

LITERALLY ahahahahha

okay you know what i'm gonna post my snippet of the neteyam fic here

sneak peek!!

As you tend to the scratch on his shoulder, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Problem?”

His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now. 

The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.

In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you in rather compromising positions. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by their future Olo’eyktan, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.

In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was the Olo’eyktan’s son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.

You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job. 

You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.

Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time with the Metkayina, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.

But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell. 

He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.

God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.

Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.

You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.

“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.

You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”

There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.

“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”

Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment. 

“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.

“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.

You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.

You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations. 

Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.

You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.

“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.

You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.

“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.

Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

#sneak peak #neteyam fic #neteyam #asks

[teddypickerry]

Could you write something angsty for Alex?

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄.

pairing! alex turner x fem reader

summary! in which alex’s lack of songs leads to him writing something he shouldn’t

word count! 1k

warnings! none

a/n! this fucking sucks. i don’t know why i hate this so much. one of my friends read it and loved it but i cannot get into it. BUT I LOVE ALEX SO I AM POSTING IT. probs cause it’s 4am and i’m tired (never). also i left the the ending kinda up to you. if you want him to apologize then you can imagine that or if you want her to dump his sorry ass then slay!

PARALLEL UNIVERSE. the exact words your boyfriend had jotted down on a notepad left in the sitting room. you'd got home from work, noticing a mess of things on the coffee table and chair where you could assume your boyfriend alex had sat all afternoon. he was currently in between tours and albums meaning, he was drawing inspiration from everything. for some reason he was in dire need of lyrics as if he didn't just release an album a year ago.

alex's process, that he'd explained to you the evening prior, consisted of needing lyrics by the end of the next year after the album. which made no sense to you but apparently to him it was all worked out in his brain. so he'd spent the past few months jotting down every word that interested him. sure it got frustrating, he left dinner with your sister the other day because he had a writing epiphany. only to have you come home two hours later to a rather pissed off version of him. him going on about messing up the beat and locking himself in his office for the rest of the evening.

alex was irritable and frustrated with his lack of inspiration and you honestly party blamed yourself. with his exes, he'd had several love songs that could have been mistaken for poems lined up. the thoughts of you possibly being at fault for this version of your boyfriend woke you up during the early hours of the morning. there was a part of you that worried you weren't enough for the romantic man. and your biggest fears seemed to shine the moment your eyes crossed over the notepad. the title scribbled 'parallel universe' in alex's sloppy handwriting. below were crossed out messy lines of writing. all hurting you more than the next.

'in some parallel universe, i know you

held me tighter. i tried harder. you spoke,

"look my love, i will look for you in every

lifetime." i didn't have you in this one so,

i'll have to wait for the next'

that was enough to have your heart beating out of your chest. there was more written at the bottom, but you couldn't bother. you'd felt betrayed. it didn't matter who it was about but he did at least owe you that. not that you ever wanted to hear it. hear who he was thinking about this way, dreaming about being in the arms of while actually in yours. the feeling was indescribable.

the hum of the tv was the only thing beside your heavy breaths that you'd heard. not acknowledging the sound of footsteps down the hallway into the living room, where you stood. your back towards him as he stopped in the doorway. "thought that was you. thought i heard the door. look- i think i finally have something figured out so maybe we can go out to that place you like in a bit. the one with the blue drink that you always get and have a proper night out. it's been awhile..." his warm voice trailed off at your silence, and lack of acknowledgment of him.

you let out a deep breath before turning your head, noticing the man with a white towel wrapped around his waist. his hair was dripping wet besides one strand over his eyes. he looked so fucking good, and that fucking hurt.

the expression on your face told him something not that it was correct in anyway. "we don't have to go there, i mean.." he licked his lips. "we could always stay here tonight, order in... stay in bed."

you didn't know why you let him ramble on. maybe because there was a part of you that hoped the paper in your hand was a lyric nick wrote, or maybe jamie, or probably matt... married matt. "alex?"

"hm?" he hummed uncomfortably as he stepped closer to you, securing the towel in the process. his eyes finally caught the prize. the notepad still in your hand visible for all to see. he could have sworn he shit himself. "y/n-"

"why-" you huffed as you stepped back from him. "i'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume this is miles' words, not yours." the silence on the other end answered your question as you felt something sharp in your soul. like you were being cut in half, your heart at least. "alex," you whined as pure pain took over. p

"angel," alex called out as you only shook your head. he tried to step closer once more as you backed up, now against the wall. he sighed and stepped back assuring his defeat. "it's just words. just some lyrics, i needed something to write so-"

"so you decided to declare your love for your ex? dream about her holding onto you?" you scoffed as his body stiffened and he turned his head slightly. "no-"

"then what the fuck is this then?" you held up the paper as your eyes began to sting. alex gulped at the sight of your pain. "angel, i had nothing okay? so i tapped into a place i haven't been in forever- years, haven't felt that in years. but i needed something dramatic and devotional."

"then write about your goddamn girlfriend! or make something up, what the hell, alex?" your voice threatened a yell as he sighed and attempted to step closer to you. "this is my job, baby. this is what i do for a living. i don't-"

"just," you started before biting your lip and crossing your arms. "i can't do this right now. i can't be with you right now," you mumbled as you grabbed your purse and jacket. all sat on the chair where you'd left them not even five minutes ago. alex's breathing got heavier as he watched you slip on your jacket. he tried to stop you. he tried to tell you that his words meant nothing. but maybe you'd listen, maybe in a parallel universe.

#teddypickerry #alex turner x reader #alex turner #arctic monkeys fic #alex turner fic #angst

[lonesome-witching]

How Can I Ask You to Stay?

Thank you for the anonymous prompt of Nancy trying to figure out how to say 'stay with me' without saying 'stay with me' to Robin. This is one of two versions of the prompt because I got a bit carried away and had many different ideas, although they all were slightly similar.

You can always send me prompts here.

Stay with me.

Three simple words and the solution to Nancy’s current conundrum. But the words lay too heavy on her tongue and so, she swallowed them down instead. 

Stay with me was far too demanding, too vulnerable. If she could only phrase it differently, or if Robin could read her mind. 

She could smell her own shampoo on Robin’s hair. The smell of lavender filling up her senses. It was odd how enticing that smell was when it was Robin who wore it but when Nancy used it herself she couldn’t even smell it. 

“Thank you for the clothes.” Robin’s voice pierced through the silence. “They’re much more comfortable than last time.” 

Nancy smiled. Stay with me, she wanted to shout. Stay with me and hold me and never leave. “I’m glad.” 

Robin cleared her throat. “I’ll head down, I think we should try to get some sleep. Things have been crazy and we’re tired and we’re hurt. So, sleep sounds good.” 

Please don’t leave. “Robin?” 

“Yeah?” 

Stay here. “You might need an extra pillow.” Nancy got up from where she had been sitting on the bed and handed over one of her own pillows. 

“Thanks.” Robin carefully took over the hold on the pillow. “How is your shoulder?” 

“It’ll be fine. How is your neck?” 

“It’s okay. I’m not currently in the mood to try getting choked in bed but as long as I avoid some hardcore kinks, I’ll be fine.” Both Nancy and Robin turned bright red. “Shit, I don’t know why I said that. Sometimes the words just come out and I- Sorry.” 

But the damage was already done. Nancy couldn’t get the image out of her mind. “It’s okay, Robin.” She assured but her face betrayed her. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I swear I didn’t mean anything with it. I’m just trying to be funny… Lighten the mood, or something.” 

Nancy pushed out a laugh. It sounded fake. It wasn’t, though. 

“Well, I’ll be in your basement if you need me.” 

All she had to do was open her mouth, ask that one question. Robin would do it. Nancy could feel it in her bones, if she asked Robin would do it. Robin would stay. She would do what no one else had been able to. Because Steve had left her at that party and Jonathan had moved to California, ending their relationship by giving up on it. Her parents had distanced themselves from her and her brother was running off with his friends. Her best friend had died in an alternate universe that lay parallel to theirs. The only person she had left, that had never disappointed her, had always been there to understand and support and believe in her, was Robin. 

Stay with me. Three simple words that would make tonight a little easier. But she couldn’t speak them. Because if she was wrong, if Robin left anyway, then she’d break. 

So, she watched as Robin slowly walked into the hallway. She listened to the soft protests of the wood under Robin’s weight and the door of the basement being opened and shut. And then she fell down on the bed, pulled the pillow over her head and screamed a muffled sound into it. 

She had tossed and turned for two hours before she made up her mind. She crawled out of bed and silently made her way down the stairs. At the door to the basement she halted, listening for any type of sound. She didn’t want to wake Robin if the girl was sleeping. She heard a soft groan and decided it was okay. The stairs squealed and squeaked under her feet. 

“Nance, is that you?” 

“Yes.” Nancy whispered. “I couldn’t sleep.” Before she could resist, she crawled onto the sofa bed. 

“Are you okay?” Robin’s hand hovered over Nancy’s shoulder. 

“Not really.” She wasn’t often this open with her emotions, even if she hadn’t really revealed much. “Do you think you could-” She stopped herself.

“What?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

Robin dropped her hand onto Nancy’s arms softly, stroking over the exposed skin. “Is this okay?” 

Tears were welling up in her eyes as she leaned into the touch. “This is perfect.” 

Yet Robin pulled her hand back. Nancy was about to protest when Robin’s arm slowly snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against Robin’s body. “Still okay?”��

“Somehow even better.” Nancy replied. Somehow Robin was able to make her feel safe. Even though Nancy had felt like she had to keep watch when she had been laying next to Jonathan or Steve. Even though she had always felt on edge whenever the dark fell over Hawkins. Her eyes fell shut and as she started intertwining her fingers with the ones resting on her stomach, she drifted off to sleep.

#prompts #ronance #my work #my writing #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin x nancy #nancy and robin #robin and nancy

[liauditore]

The thoughts, hand em over. (No pressure but I wanna hear em :D)

oh god what have u done.

context.

OK SO,. (BE WARNED THIS IS LIKE. REALLY LONG AND BRAINROTTY.)

first off i must put here as per the law i am not in fact armchair psychoanalysing mc youtubers grian and mister scott S. major this is me looking at the 3L series as is it were a performance and their actions in said series as characters and blah blah blah so on so forth this is Fanfiction and Shipping and woowoOOwoo We Are Being Sillyyy with a miku song.

i'm gonna infodump abt a bunch of stuff including some heavy topics like emotional abuse and dubcon (NOT in detail the song just has those vibes)

so uh if you're reading this for Some Reason know that 👍

ALRIGHT WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY Vampire the song itself is (at least my reading of it) a song about a toxic relationship. The singer is very much not a Good Person and the main chorus is just them disregarding their partner's needs and pushing the relationship even further.

But the singer isn't completely irredeemably evil, since they really do love the person they're abusing (in a childish sense of the word love, anyway) and seem to be at least acutely aware of how they're not really a good person.

But of course, they "eh whatever" these self-reflections pretty fast cus they're having fun with the relationship. This specific set of translyrics reads to me like a bit of self-victimizing as well like "oh, I'm so tortured by feeling like a bad person because of the way I treat you. But I love you so you don't really have a choice but to forgive me."

Speaking of translyrics this is where Micchi's version comes in. While I ADORE Rachie and Anthong's version I do have some nitpicks..? And one of those that I am unreasonably pet peeved by is this right here.

In the original JP version, the lyric is simply kimi mo vampire, meaning simply You're (also) a Vampire. It's alot more obvious a change and hits harder imo than "My little Vampire" which still puts the singer in the position of power.

Micchi's version of the lyrics on the other hand stick a lot closer to the original

And I might just be imagining this but there seems to be a switch in the power dynamic in this version as well. The singer is now inviting their partner to be "rough" with them and the repeating mantra of "you're the ONLY ONE for me" sounds more desperate than anything else.

Micchi's lyrics in general are a bit more wet cat coded. I still prefer Rachie's as a whole but Micchi's singer definitely seems to be more regretful of what they've done and blame themselves for essentially turning their partner into a different, more hostile person. (aka turning them into a vampire lol)

In a lot of ways the vampire metaphor is really unsubtle. Bloodsucking parasite attaches themselves to someone and turns them into a bloodsucking parasite as well.

SO HOW THE FUCK DID I GET GRAIN AND SCOOTER FROM THIS WELL.....

When I think about 3L one of the main things that lights up the lightbulb in my mind is the parallels between all of the four "main" partnerships, with Renchantyn vs Desert Duo as the most obvious comparison point but I think they all mirror and subvert each other really well.

Grian/Scott are like birds of a feather to me in a similar sense that Scott/Cleo are, but while Scott and Cleo have this mutual understanding with each other with Grian it's a bit more complicated.

I CAN't. FOR THE LIFE OF ME. FIND IT AGAIN bUT there was a bit in Third Life when Scott said to Grian "and maybe once our husbands are dead we can be free" and Grian laughs and that basically inspired this Whole Thing 🙏🙏

(an apology for all the wholesome flower husbands shippers who i know follow me cus im about to unleash my full toxic yaoi adaptation of them) (desert duo fans from what ive seen are already insane so you're okay)

In my own mind Grian and Scott are both somewhat.. manipulative? Might be a bit harsh of a word? But they definitely play to survive more than some of the other people stuck in there with them. (cleo too but she sucks at it and she can get her character analysis essay next week)

At least in my view, their partnerships with Jimmy and Scar respectively were born more out of a need for safety in numbers and to get someone to essentially keep them safe until they're no longer of use. Grian definitely felt bad about creeper-ing Scar in the first episode but I don't think he was quite expecting to spend the whole series in debt to him 😭😭

Scott (like the singer in the song oh my god) isn't really a monster so to speak, just someone who has a messed up view of love. Probably has some sort of tragic backstory that explains the way he is that we'll get to see in the anime adaptation idk. He does care for Jimmy but in like.. the way someone might care for and love a pet. You LOVE your dog to fucking death but you wouldn't like.. trust your dog with taxes or respect its autonomy.

also these lyrics are both hilarious to me considering the uh current brainrot.

Grian on the other hand probably Wants to be like Scott and be able to have someone wrapped around his fingers like that but he can't cus it's Scar not Jimmy and he's Grian and not Scott. I imagine he'd get tired of Scar's shenanigans when he's with him but as soon as he's left the room it's all why's it so quiet D: where's scar D:

I like to think that everytime he THINKS he has a handle on Scar finally and can actually stand a chance to survive this thing Scar does something completely unhinged off the wall and Grian's like WAIT WAIT WAIT NO

basically he gets way too attached and doesn't like it and to make it worse he has no idea wtf is going thru Scar's head👍

SO when they eventually team up I think Scott and Grian would have this little "wink wink nudge nudge they don't know" kinda thing going on.

and then in my little fanfiction world somewhere along the line Scott would end up sensing that Oh, We're actually not exactly the same.. interesting.. and kind of start looking at Grian with this sense of amusement/pity cus aww, look at you getting all attached to the person you were planning to betray, that's so cute and Grian would see the worst of himself reflected back to him via Scott. It ends up strengthening Desert Duo's relationship if anything else.

Of course then Jimmy dies and Scott's emotionally destroyed by it but he's still like.. skirting around it. I'd like to think he gaslights himself with any genuine Emotions he has cus like.. he knew this was coming, this is all according to plan, so why would he feel anything for him now that he's gone?

While Scott gets some time to come to terms with the fact that he actually cared about Jimmy too late for him to repair their relationship Grian and Scar end up punching eachother to death in a cactus ring. The End 👍

tl;dr i need to pick up writing fanfics cus oh my god

#asks #HAHAHAHAHA DON'T READ THIS #op is Unhinged #usually im more normal on my main i promise #but writing all this down was fun i should do it more #despite it all this couldve been even fucking longer #if i decided to go even more in depth w/ my toxic yaoi fh and whatnot #cus i do think jimmy ends up catching some bad habits and scotts like oh god what have i done a bit #BUT i am going to draw them again and i can rant abt them there #i think i almost wrote scott too evil here a bit?? but i reassure u he's just a Guy #like trap me in a death game i would manipulate a naive blonde boy too tbh #but i'd end up being grian cus im small and angry and unable to get a proper read on scar goodtimes #heavy brainrot #i might make this songs thing a series i liked doing this alot.... #i need a funky lil tag for it. #trafficshipping #<-- for filtering #trafficvocabrainrot

[satsuha]

you are SO RIGHT!! agnene is sooo cute and you’ve really opened my eyes to the extent of how much it works. the parallels you drew between them and temehika also make a lot of sense.

similarly, now that you mention it, i definitely understand what you mean about the crossed path story.. i haven’t played since the game released (i plan on replaying when the anniversary arrives) so i my memory wasn’t the clearest. i’d completely forgotten about yomi ooops.. and you’re right that they really should have touched more on agnea’s past, especially since both she and hikari have lost their mothers. it could have been so sweet to see them exchanging stories about them. i do wish that had happened :(

this is somewhat unrelated but i’m vehemently against the temenos/throné ship because i kind of see them as siblings? (SPOILERS BTW) idk i saw a really good theory about temenos also being one of Mr “So i inpregnated countless women” Guy’s children (was his name claude? i’m blanking suddenly) and while i’m not usually one to go all in on believing fan theories, the theory was so compelling that every time i see them shipped it makes me just a bit uncomfortable lmao. that’s just how my brain works i guess

argh in conclusion there were so many links that could have been drawn between certain characters that the game didn’t want to touch on and it’s such a shame. i get that they didn’t want to make any protags More Prominent than the others and that’s hard to pull off but my imagination definitely runs wild with all the possibilities (i will never see that end-game “why was temenos doing all the heavy lifting” scene the same way after what you did with it hehe)

hehe my agnene agenda... i unfortunately don't have enough hands to draw them as much as i'd like to but yeah they're so cute to me 😭 and yeah i understand! i'm also going through my second playthrough (albeit slowly lol i started in may and am still on it) but i do check videos online pretty often when i want to talk about something so i'm more or less refreshed on the events of the game

and ooogh... that theory... okay well for some context i only came across it when someone told me it was canon that temenos was claude's son and i was so horrified that i'd missed something but it turns out people had just misinterpreted arcanette's line directed at throne o<-< i think the theory is... fine but it doesn't really affect any part of temenos' character for me since the only real thing claude's children have in common is that they were forced into the blacksnakes' bloodbath but temenos wasn't a part of that so... i also think it suits him better that he's just some ordinary guy because his story seems to push the fact that he's in a role he was never destined for (in an "ideal" world, it would've been roi who was the chosen cleric for the story but temenos was forced to take up the mantle)

UHHH but yeah regardless of temenos' parentage i got pretty strong sibling/platonic vibes from his and throne's interactions anyway... i like their dynamic the most amongst the crossed paths pairs because temenos is just constantly telling throne off for her bad behaviour like a child and i find it amusing lol

i'm always stuck between wanting more of a certain kind of interaction (because i think some banters were lacklustre) and being fine with it because it means i can be delusional and just fill in the gaps myself lmao... THAT scene still boggles my mind i can't think of a single reason why temenos would be the one carrying the water JKFGHJKA but temehika going off as a pair regardless of what they are doing will always make me happy.... 🥰

#anonymous #answered #i guess this is also #ship hate #sorry guys i have a lot of opinions

[overlyimmersed]

So... Gloxinia?

Micro(maybe?) analysis #3

So I haven't really done a personality analysis for any character so far. I talk endlessly about who I feel Helbram is, but never in a particularly formal way. And I mentioned a little about Gerheade as a person in the post I made for her birthday. But every time Gloxinia comes up I just get to thinking about how... unusual he is, actually. And I've always put off talking about it, cuz like... I'm the wing analysis person and I have other things to work on.

So anyway, now I'm gonna talk about Gloxinia's personality.

What usually inspires this line of thinking is @cupidthewriter like in general XD but especially when she talks about her OC Sage(who you can learn more about here). In her story about Sage and Gloxinia she has it written that some Fairies didn't exactly approve of their king being with a human. And that actually makes a lot of sense to me. Not only because Fairies can be fickle and kind of weird about stuff, but because I do believe Gloxinia was kind of...an odd duck.

The baseline of his personality could be described as..."subdued". He's generally kind of mild and calm. Very even tempered, even when fucked up things are coming out of his mouth. And I think that placidity makes him sort of over-look-able. Like maybe that's why I don't hear so much about him. But there's actually more to him.

You have to really pay attention, because a lot of the finer points come as off-hand comments, or come from other media like Grand Cross.

Gloxinia, is actually a little bit like Helbram. Besides both being curious, a little impulsive and maybe a bit too smart for their own good, they have this 1 really big parallel, and it's big because it's kinda the defining moments of both their characters. That is an interest in humanity that lead into betrayal and violent retaliation.

Though Gloxinia's interest in humanity seemed to be a little more specific than Helbram's. Helbram was interested in human culture, where Gloxinia seemed to more specifically like games and entertainment.

That's the other bigger part of Glox's personality; Playfulness. Gloxinia cares a lot about weather or not something is fun.

This is illustrated by subtleties in his own dialog, some off-hand comments from Drole, and in the quest to unlock [Elite Demon] Gloxinia of Repose's "Unique" ability in Grand Cross, where he and Drole play...something, I think it's a race, or a chase game? I don't remember exactly, I just remember they were playing and I think Glox lost on a technicality XD

Gloxinia is calm and appears rather subdued, but is thoughtful, and, like his sister, decisive in his actions. He's also surprisingly playful and places a lot of value on fun. He seems to prefer to use his energy sparingly, even without the Commandment of Repose, which is probably why he ended up with that one to begin with.

Also, he always sounds kinda sleepy to me? Like his voice has a lethargy to it. Maybe it's the wings XD I bet those things are heavy. For anyone who maybe hasn't, you can read my thoughts about that here with additional information here.

#seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #7ds #nnt #7ds fairy #nnt fairy #7ds Gloxinia #nnt Gloxinia #7ds analysis #nnt analysis #I hope the links are ok! #I figure the cross referencing is a good thing #to make sure readers know who I'm referring to #and to give you some well deserved exposure :p

[extravalgant]

title: river break me so i can heal

relationships: player character (the wizard) & duncan grimwater

summary: it had been some time since you had seen his face. and it had been a while since he had tried to kill you.

notes: oookay fair warning. possibly ooc for duncan? but also i sacrificed a bit of that in sake of getting the story across better. i mention this in my ao3 notes but i also think the wizard and duncan parallel each other to an extent... the context is also mentioned at the end notes for what i was thinking throughout this process. but anyways

>> READ ON A03 <<

Without another word, Duncan wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. And it is a hug, alright – just not a very good one. Your nose smashes into his shoulder painfully, and it would almost be enough to break you out of your crying spell, had you not been caught off by the sudden movement. 

This is… the first time you’ve ever gotten a hug. Actual human contact. His touch sends a soft ache spreading through your chest - a sweet warmth that your brain recognizes as affection. Security. The need to make you feel safe. 

It’s the hug of someone who has never hugged before – truly, if you were going to be honest, it was probably one of the worst hugs you have ever experienced; Duncan’s form is awkward, arms just a bit too tight and angled weirdly. 

You realize that he’s hugging you out of his own volition - that he wanted to let you know that he cared about you. And it’s the thought of someone comforting you, rubbing your back (which he is doing, albeit the motions feel stilted), that makes the bubble in your throat grow, chokes your own words out of your mouth, makes you cry even harder. 

Your hands clutch the back of his robes, clenching it between your fists as if he would disappear if you ever let go. You want to say something, hug him back, offer support, but you can’t. Your tongue feels like cotton, and your brain blanks out on the words needed to speak. Just the thought of someone hugging you was enough for another round of tears to leak through, and after everything you’ve been through crumbles in a matter of seconds.

“Run away with me.”

The words are flying out of his mouth before he knows it, before he even has a chance to logically think.

Run away? To where? Duncan wasn’t dumb enough to think that whatever calamity crawls out of the darkest parts of the spiral would simply stop because the Wizard wasn’t going to take care of them.

Even so, he doesn’t take back his words. They hang heavy in the crisp, muggy air of Triton Avenue. A storm rumbles above his head, and the thunder almost serves as a warning; a sign from Raven – to take back what he said or he would regret it. Regret trying to take her champion.

He knows you must feel his heart thudding fast and hard in his chest, arms still wrapped securely around your shoulders. Your face is still tucked in between the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and your hands are still clawing into his robes–it doesn’t hurt, by any means, but he’s caught off guard at how surprisingly.. clingy you are.

He wonders if you heard what he said.

“Did y—”

“I heard you.” You cut him off. Your voice is quiet and soft, but has a rough and scratchy quality to its tone that had been heightened from your crying session. 

There’s another agonizingly slow moment of silence, and in it, Duncan feels the gentle rustle of the wind brush over your figures. He never quite believed Suzie or Artur when they told him that Triton Avenue was cold, but the wind brings a chill that he can’t quite blame necromancy for. 

And when you speak, this coldness sinks further into his stomach.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Duncan furrows his brows. "What do you mean you can't?"

When you pull back away from his chest, the descent is slow–like molasses. You don’t see a point in being discreet as you wipe the remaining tears away from your eyes, for he had seen it all, and sucked in a sharp breath. And when you meet his gaze, your eyes are red-rimmed and bright.

For a moment, the breath catches in his throat.

“I can’t.” You emphasize, this time. Your voice is more even than it was before. It sounded like the Wizard he recognized, and not the one that had been bawling into his robes moments ago. “I have responsibilities.” 

“Are you dumb?” Duncan says, and he can’t amend the way it comes out of his mouth–clunky and harsh, like a hammer striking iron. “It’s killing you! Look at you!”

He grabs your shoulders as he says this, and the touch is almost too much to bear with something like this. 

“I’m aware.” Your voice is bitter as you spit out the reply, but there is no denying the exhaustion in your voice. “I… don’t have a choice.” 

Duncan’s lips press into a thin line. 

“I just can’t.” You repeat, and a watery tone edges your words. “I have duties, I’m… I’m a savior now. There’s no room for what I want and my desires. They wouldn’t let me.” 

“‘They’?” Duncan quirks an eyebrow. 

He sees the way your gaze drifts over his shoulder, eyes glazing as if searching for something off in the distance. He thinks you must have found it, the way your pupils dilate, and stare for a long time.

“I used to think it was just Raven and Spider.” Your voice dips into something quieter, whispy. Like this conversation was just for him.  “There’s something else out there. I’ve never seen it, or heard it, or.. smelled it. I can only… feel it.” 

Duncan takes a chance to glance behind him, following your gaze—he expects to see a figure at least, and it only furthers his confusion about the entire thing. 

It must be his eyes playing tricks on him, because he does see it—a vague shape. A human-like figure.

He blinks and it’s gone.

“As fun as running away sounds,” Your voice brings him back to the present, back to your now neutral expression. “I don’t have a choice. Truly.” 

Really, there are more silences now than you care to admit, and it’s only when you make the decision to stand does he know your final answer. It doesn’t stop you from holding out your hand to help him up from the wet, muddy ground, and it doesn’t stop him from taking it. 

And even when all is said and done, you’re still grasping each other’s hands. Your fingers press against the pulse of his wrist, which beats heartily underneath your touch. 

“We could go somewhere new.” Duncan says. He doesn’t want to admit that he sounds desperate. Lonely. “The spiral is big. We could find some place where they don’t need us. Where no one ever gets the chance to take advantage of us.”

You can’t help the smile that breaks across your face, bleeds into your voice. It sounds too good to be true, even for you. “Oh?” 

“We don’t have to stay wizards. We could even swallow our pride and become pirates!” 

“You love necromancy, Duncan.” You say, and he does. He does. With every bit of his mind, body, and soul. “I’ve heard rumors on the shore that they’ve outlawed all magic. It would kill you.” 

His lip curls. 

“Admittedly, it would kill me, too.” Your hand slowly slips from his. “Even throughout all these years… I’ve come to love magic far too much to let it slip out of my fingers.” 

“...Will you come back?”

Duncan’s voice is far too vulnerable for his liking–it had only been today that he expressed his feelings of ostracization, of needing to feel wanted. He had made his first, real friend and it had been you, the one he had been previously sent to get rid of.

He doesn’t want to see you go if it means there’s a chance you won’t return.

Still, a smile spreads across your face at that question.

“Of course.” You say. “Nothing’s killed me yet—I consider that sign enough that I’m on the right path.”

You pause.

“And I want you to come with me.”

He’s not sure if he heard you right. Either that, or this was your idea of a prank. 

Or you’ve finally lost it.

“Do you hear yourself?” Duncan says, because he finds himself reeling. Of course he wants to join you—but also, are you crazy? The blood is roaring loud in his ears. “This is—this isn’t even my journey to go on!” 

“Who cares?” You reply, and he both hates and loves how flippant you’re being about the entire thing. “I didn’t exactly get the wizarding book of rules when I first got here. We’ll be fine, I think.” 

“I couldn’t even beat you!” 

“To be fair,” You say, and the smile on your face is a little bit too cocky for someone like you—someone meant to uphold the pedestal of light wasn’t meant to look so smug. “No one has been able to beat me yet. I can protect you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I’m not worried about that!” He hisses out, but there is a semblance of an embarrassed flush creeping over his features. “And besides, I can take care of myself!” 

“Then we don’t have any problems.” 

There’s a long moment where he just—stares at you. Like he’s trying to figure out your goal for this, your angle. 

“....Why?” 

He feels conflicted. He feels lost. And most of all, he feels confused. Was one, heartfelt conversation all it took to get on your good side? It’s no wonder why anyone with bad intentions, but a good mask, was able to twist your promises of companionship and turn it into something else.

“...You know me the best.” You say, after a while. The sky rumbles above you once again, the final warning you receive, before a torrent of rain begins to pour down on you both. Your robes are soaked before long, bleeding into darker colors. 

The two of you don’t move. 

“Saving the world gets a bit lonely, too.” You continue on, and he recognizes that look on your face—it had been there at the beginning, when you had shown up unannounced in this field, and sat next to him without another word. 

“You’d say we could start over as friends… but I’m a very busy wizard.” Your smile is sad, this time, when it pulls at your lips. “We’d become strangers before long. A something that was there, but could never happen.” 

“...And you think taking me along a dangerous quest will fix that?” 

He hates how it, once again, comes out of his mouth wrong. He had never been good with dealing on how wonderful it felt to be wanted at someone’s side. 

“I said I’d protect you, didn’t I?” Your face tilts upward, and allows the drizzle to wash over your face. It feels almost holy in nature—your soul feels cleansed. 

“I don’t care what Ambrose thinks. I’m not his student anymore. I don’t care what the Arcanum thinks. They don’t trust me.” 

And when you open your eyes and face him, they open slowly, as if savoring this one singular moment. And the gradual motion of your hand as it reaches up from your side, before holding it out for him to take, is measured. 

You are in no rush. 

“I think I can trust you.” You say, softly. “Don’t you agree?” 

His hand as it slides into yours is cold and wet. But it still makes your heart soar nonetheless. 

“Yeah. You can.”

#wizard101 #w101 #duncan grimwater w101 #always him and not nolan that i have these thoughts about #ki this is not an invitation for u to make nolan relevant later on in arc 4 #or is it.... hehe..... reverse psychology #honestly i like takin the characters no one really pays attention to and then givin them smth #inspired to finish this by tumblr user sharknado bc i saw their meow meow art of duncan and i was like oh em gee... cute #and then i remembered i had this and i was like wtf this is good . lets finish it #sorry if this veers towards a more romantic vibe ive just been writing a lot of romance 😭😭 so it tends to bleed into my other works #HM WHAT ELSE.... #i dont think theres anything else as far as that goes #erm. enjoy i guess #sorry if i made him ooc but like i said . sacrifices must be made #(i am booed off stage) #also im scheduling this for later bc its 4 am but if u check a03 regularly it should be there #ALSO THAT PIRATE REFERENCE.... YEAH.... YEAHHHH #im pointing at all 3 pirate fans (i am killed on the spot) #i just want more wiz fics to passively include pirate isms more . i think itd be neat #also if ur confused about the figure . its us #i was trying to break the 4th wall a bit by having the wizard be like 'i cant go against what they want :(' #DUNNO IF IT TRANSLATED WELL....

[kanansdume]

I think one of the reasons I can’t get into Rebels season three as much, is that the villains have next to nothing to do with Kanan and Ezra’s stories as built up over the last two seasons.

For all that this show obviously really WANTS to be an ensemble show and does take pains to try to give Zeb, Chopper, Hera, Sabine (and occasionally characters like Rex and Sato) more time in the filler episodes of seasons two and three, it is ultimately Kanan and Ezra’s show. They are the main characters and this is their story. The most major story-heavy episodes follow Ezra, Ezra’s journey towards becoming a Jedi, and how that intersects with his relationship with Kanan and Kanan’s journey towards reclaiming his identity as a Jedi. 

And the big villains of seasons one and two were predominantly there to serve Kanan and Ezra’s stories. The Grand Inquisitor, the two/three Inquisitors in season two, and Anakin. 

Because the big shadow that hangs over all of the stories in this is the Empire and its impact on the galaxy, its impact on our main five characters. But for Kanan and Ezra, it’s a little different. As Jedi (or Jedi-in-training) it’s about what the Empire did to the Jedi, specifically. It’s about Order 66 and the eradication of the Jedi and how Kanan and Ezra struggle to figure out how to be Jedi together in the wake of this tragedy. 

Anakin is the one who caused this, so his presence in season two hammers home Kanan’s main struggle in that season as well as paralleling Ezra’s struggle with overconfidence and increasing responsibilities placed upon him, forcing Ezra to need to decide to commit a little harder to this path he’s chosen and to his relationship with Kanan.

The Inquisitors in both seasons are Anakin’s “dogs”, his minions, his lackeys. They are the instruments by which he continues to eliminate the Jedi, by which he keeps them oppressed and isolated from both each other and the galaxy at large. The Inquisitors are symbolic of the tragedy that Kanan suffered and the struggles he and Ezra both continue to face at the hands of the Empire. They specifically represent the way the Empire treats the JEDI and the ruthlessness with which it wants to wipe them out completely.

Every other antagonist in the first two seasons is secondary to these ones. Kallus, Minister Tua, Admiral Konstantine, any other two bit Imperial officer who makes an appearance for an episode. They represent the shit the Empire is doing, yes, and they are constant obstacles the crew has to overcome, but they aren’t there to serve Kanan and Ezra’s emotional story beats.

Thrawn falls into that second category more than the first. He has exactly nothing to do with the annihilation of the Jedi Order and no particular connection to Kanan or Ezra. He SHOULD be the secondary antagonist now that they decided to make Kallus “good” but he’s treated like a main antagonist. 

And then there’s Maul. Who I THINK is meant to continue Ezra’s whole storyline of becoming “like Anakin” except that Maul doesn’t even consider himself a Sith anymore, has no interest in the Empire, had no real part in Order 66, and is just running around trying to manipulate Ezra into helping him find Obi-Wan to kill him for personal reasons. And after the season two finale, Ezra doesn’t trust him anyway, so it’s not like he’s struggling with WANTING the things Maul offers him. Maul doesn’t as accurately represent the struggles Ezra has as a Jedi as the Inquisitors and Anakin did. Maul was never a good person who fell to temptation, he was raised by a Sith from the beginning. And he’s not exactly temptation incarnate anymore, he’s just some dude in a bad shirt on a crazy vengeance quest that has little to nothing to do with Ezra’s or Kanan’s emotional journey.

Which makes the emotional stakes of the entire SEASON so much lower than they have been for the last two. We aren’t really worried Ezra’s going to fall after the first three episodes or so, Kanan’s committed to being Ezra’s teacher and seems to have worked through the difficulty of being blinded, their relationship is stronger than ever. Thrawn and Maul represent no emotional obstacle the two of them are facing and trying to overcome. 

And it’s making season three a little bit of a slog. The episodes on their own are generally fine, there’s some duds along the way and a few I genuinely do like, but I’m not as invested in this season or as interested in the story they’re telling for Kanan and Ezra as I was in the last two seasons because it kind-of feels like they’re NOT telling one.

#star wars rebels #grand admiral thrawn #darth maul #kanan jarrus #ezra bridger #rebels #ezra #kanan

[nightowlfandom]

Noctis Lucis Caelum- Anything For You

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

More Final Fantasy content....YYYYYYAAAAYY

Leggo

...

“Good girl.” you smiled as the yellow feathered Chocobo ate from your hand. “Eat up, you need your energy.” you scratched the top of her head as she squawked gratefully.

“Y/N are you still here?” the farmhand, Faye emerged from the stables to find you. “Do you not have any other plans?”

“Trust me.” you began to laugh. “I’d much rather scoop up giant bird poops than deal with my personal life right now...or lack thereof.”

“Well isn’t that somethin- Is that the crown prince I see?” she looked past you which made you follow her eyes. “It is?! Prince Noctis on my Chocobo farm. Quick! How do I look?” 

“Like a farmer.” you laughed in reply. “Perhaps get the shit off your boots.”

“Damnit! I should have worn my new ones.” She began wiping the bottoms of her shoes against the grass. 

“Faye, he’s just a prince. I don’t know what’s so great about him anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “He seems like an asshole from what I’ve seen of him.”

“You’ve never even met him.” she put her hands on her hips. “Maybe you’ll like him!”

“Sure, whatever you say, Faye.”  you laughed. “That’ll happen.”

...

“Ugh why are we here anyways?” Noctis rolled his eyes as Ignis pulled up to the famous Chocobo farm.

“Because!” Prompto snapped in reply. The blond male didn’t even wait for the car to fully stop before he jumped out. “The eggs are supposed to be hatching today and I want to be the first to capture a picture of those featherless faces!”

“Of course.” he scoffed. Noctis liked Chocobos, sure. He just didn’t think an idea of a good Saturday morning was to spend the day at a bunch of dirty, smelly, stables, for a bunch of unhatched eggs no less. “Great.”

“I suggest you fix your face, the farmhand is here.” Gladio grunted, hopping out of the car. “Wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“Whateve-” Noctis turned his head towards the loud squawking when his eyes landed on you. You were feeding a random Chocobo while talking to that farmgirl who ran the stables. “Woah.” he felt his heart flutter. Who were you?! He heard you laugh from where he was and felt his heart stop. Your laugh, it was beautiful.

“Yo? Who is that girl?” Noctis scrambled out of the car, nearly falling on his face. He tried desperately to fix himself up. “Specs?”

“I believe she frequents the shops not too far from here.” Ignis replied in his usually cool manner. “I believe she is also a friend of that Dino character we run into from time to time.”

“No way. Her?! Friends with that-” Noctis shook his head in disbelief. He found it impossible to walk forward. Gravity was stopping him. He didn’t even notice everyone else walking ahead of him. He had never seen you around before but he wished he had. “Woah....”

...

You were still chatting with Faye when a group of guys ran up. One of them held a camera and looked as if he were about to explode. You had no time to register the camera flash. Good think he captured your good side.

“I AM HERE FOR THE EGGS!” he declared. His abrasiveness surprised you. Was he talking about the new hatchlings? 

“Ummm-” Faye looked scared. “You here to volunteer?”

“Heck yeah I am!” he explosive blonde looked as if he was about to piss himself from excitement. “I WANT TO HOLD YOUR CHOCOBOS!”

“Alright! Keep your pants on. Follow me. Y/N, you’ll be good here right?” Faye asked, seemingly frightened by the giddy young man. 

“Yeah.” you stifled a laugh. “I’ll be just fine here.” you shook your head as the man ran full force for the stables. You were about to go about your business when a black haired boy stumbled up to you. “For a royal, you’re pretty clumsy.” you stifled laughter.

“Huh?!” he looked taken aback. “You know who I am?”

“...I mean aren’t I supposed to?” you turned back towards the Chocobo. “Prince Noctis?” you tried to hold in your distaste, but he caught up on it instantly.

“Is there an issue with me-”

“As a matter of fact there is. Don’t think I didn’t notice that face you were making when you pulled up with your friends.” you cut him off. “Big and bad prince man can’t be seen around a few Chocobos?”

“Oh, no that’s not it at all.” Noctis tried to explain himself in the best way he could. 

“Then what exactly is it?” you turned towards him again. “I mean really?”

“Okay so I admit my attitude isn’t the best-”:

“So you admit it?” you held back harsh laugh. “Hm, It’s a start.” you shrugged.

“I mean, you aren’t really giving me a fair chance. You only know me from the papers.” he explained. “You don’t really know me as a person. For all I know you could be a stalker.”

“I am no a stalker!” you looked him up and down. 

“I wouldn’t know that.” he winked. “So maybe we both have it all wrong.”

“And what do you wanna do to fix that, go on a date or something?” you scoffed.

“Yes!” he replied honestly. “Let me prove I’m not some asshole!”

“Is it that imperative that you go out of your way to prove to me that you aren’t an asshole?” you raised a brow.

“Yes!” he nodded quickly.

...

You boredly sat at the restaurant table. He was late. 15 minutes to be exact. 

“I knew this was a load of-” you prepared yourself to stand up when a man frantically rushed in.

“I’M HERE!” Noctis yelled, grabbing the attention of the other patrons. He practically fell into the chair right across from you. 

“Nice of you to show.” you sat back down. You decided to humor this guy. “Care to explain?”

“Sorry! Stupid Prompto gave me the wrong address and...woah...” he nearly drooled all over the place seeing you in your tight black dress. “You look...amazing.”

“Sure I do.” you scoffed. “I’m sure I still have dried up chocobo shit in my hair,” you turned away from him, feeling your insecurity creep up on you, tons more than usual. “But thank you.” you relaxed in your chair.

“No I mean it! Even when I saw you...I thought you were beautiful.” he expressed.

“Really?” you paused to look him in the eye. 

“Really.” he smiled. “You’re the best looking girl here.” 

“I definitely don’t believe that...but thank you.” you said shyly. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. 

....

“What about that one?” you pointed to a random star.

“That one, there’s a legend that it’s a parallel version of this world.” 

You both sat at the edge of the lake, staring into the moonlit sky. After dinner, Noctis had taken you to the docks on Galdin Quay. 

“No way. “You stared at the star in wonder. “How many worlds do you think there are?”

“Infinite, my dad says so.” Noctis replied. “All different versions of us doing different things.” he smiled to himself. “Maybe there’s a version of me that...is actually proud to be a prince.” he glowered. 

“Maybe there’s a version of me whose the royal instead.” you nudged him. That made him chuckle a bit. 

“If that’s the case...I’d be happy to bow down to you.” he flirted. He looked back at the sky. “Try that one.” he pointed.

“I know that one.” you beamed a little. “There’s a legend called the Lover’s Star, if a couple sees it on their first date...they’ll be together forever.” you mused romantically. It was only then you had realized your fingers had laced into Noctis’s. 

“Maybe today was our lucky day.” he winked. After a second of silence, you decided to confess.

“I was wrong about you.” you said honestly a while. “I think you’re pretty amazing, Noct.” you chuckled. 

“So...” he smiled deviously. “Are ya gonna say I’m sorry?” he mocked.

“You wish. You’re still a stuck up prince to me...you’re just not an asshole prince.” you stuck your tongue out at him. “You’re not like most guys around here.” you shyly looked away from him you dug your toes into the sand. 

“Well I’m not from around here.” he replied. “You’re different from everyone around here. You’re not all into me because I’m The Prince Noctis- that’s all I want. I want someone to see me for who I am...not what I am.”

You shyly kicked your legs in the water, looking at the ripples in the water.. “I’m glad I could be that person for you Noctis.” you smiled.

“Guess this means you’re gonna be part of my team now?” he bit his lip. “You’ll be my...ummm...I’ll think of something.”

“I look forward to it.” you giggled. 

“Hm for now...come here.” he winked, gently holding the side of your face. Noctis kissed you. You felt your senses go off. You instantly grabbed his face, kissing him back.

...

You fell back on the hotel bed, refusing to disconnect from a feverish prince throwing himself at you. He kissed you with urgency, as if you would disappear before his eyes. He tore a rip up your dress hastily. 

Your tongues clashed together as you kissed, the air was getting heavy. You helped Noctis out of his jacket. Your dress had turned to ribbons and your panties weren’t too far behind. 

“N-noctis..” you hissed, feeling his hands explore every inch of your body.

“You feel even better than I imagined you would.” he kissed your bare stomach. “You’re so beautiful.” he moaned. It was like you were the goddess, the royal, and he was the peasant.

You felt shy under his gaze. He stared up at you, biting his lip. “I don’t think I can wait...” he groaned. “A-are you okay with this?”

“God, yes.” you mewled as he kissed your thighs. 

“I wanna worship you.” he moaned, ghosting his lips over your center. You shyly stared down at Noctis who looked up at you with a shit eating grin. 

He sunk his tongue into you, lashing against your pussy. You instantly grabbed a fist full of his hair. You and him both were a mess. Hisses and prolonged moans escaped your lungs along with his name. You were sure the people in the next room could hear you. 

Noctis crawled over you again, a predatory glare in his eyes. He bit his lip, staring down at you. “You’re so fucking cute...”

...

“I’d do anything for you.” he moaned against your lips. “I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.” he whimpered, his thrusts growing sloppily. He bucked his hips rhythmically, your bodies moving and grinding in sweet friction. His cock twitched inside of you as he grew near his release, but he wanted to wait. He wanted to cum to the sounds of your cries and screams. ”Gonna make you my queen and w-we’ll rule together until our hearts give out baby. F-FUUUCCKK.”

“Noctis.” you croaked. Hearing his words in your ear made you hiss in delight. This alone caused him to dig his nails into your sides and thrust even deeper into your heat. You didn’t know what else do you but let a stream of cries escape your lungs. 

“I love it when you say my name.” he grunted. “Say it again.”

“N-noctis.” your insides lurched as you tightened around his length. “I wanna- I’m gonna-”

“Again.” he barked. “Never stop saying my name. Never say another man’s name!” he sank his teeth into the crook of your neck. “You’re mine, baby. You’re all mine.” he growled.

“Noctisss.” you arched your back. “F-fu-” you whimpered, at the impact. “S-shit!”

Noctis yanked himself from you, spraying his cum all over your stomach. Shortly before, you came too, feeling your water run down your leg. He fell forward, burying his head into your neck. “Baby, I’d fucking do everything for you.”

You shook under his body, whimpering at his gentle touches. You felt him kiss your need lovingly as you both drifted off to sleep.

...

#noctis x reader #noctis lucis caelum #noctis lucis caelum x reader #ffxv x reader #ffxv imagines #ffxv lemon #ffxv scenarios #final fantasy 15 #noctis final fantasy #x reader #noctis imagines #noctis lucis caelum imagines #noctis smut #noctis imagine #ffxv headcanons #imagines #x readers #multifandom

[strawbearisamu]

for a day like this

timeskip! hanamaki takahiro x gn! reader

summary: a coincidence on a train ride home leads to a confession and kissing in the rain.

note: requested by anon :) here, semi long one guys

cw: light swearing, semi makeout scene

wc: 1.8k 

the sky shrouded by a dense fog, the blue of it completely concealed by a covering of wooly grey clouds. rain continuing to pour from the desolute atmosphere as you heard a disembodied female voice announce the departure of the train. you sighed, train starting to move as you look out your window only to see a strike of lightning, the muffled thundering of the storm only growing louder, reminding you of the impending consequences of today's events.

"miss..miss...excuse me miss?" shaken from your daze, you meet the face of a middle aged woman carrying an infant and a young child, "miss, would you mind switching seats with me? there just isn't enough space for my baby's breastfeeding equipment on the other side." she asked apologetically, "even though i specifically requested it," mumbling the last part under her breath.

you press your lips in to a small smile, grabbing your things as she thanked you in relief, your eyes light up at a familiar shade of strawberry brown, occupying the very seat next to the one you were supposed to replace, "makki?" you couldn’t help the grin as called out from behind.

he whipped his head towards you, eyes widened, mouth slightly agape as he eyed you a few times. as if making sure you weren't a fake, making sure the familiar resonance and tenor of your voice, the one he replays to himself some nights, making sure it wasn't just an auditory hallucination. "y/n."

eyes lighting up with excitement, you speed up towards him, engulfing his sitting form in a warm hug, arms wrapped around his neck as he breaths in your scent.

"missed me huh?" you don't miss the playful glint in his eyes as you finally let him go. "yeah," a beaming grin displacing the forlorn look on your face.

"what were you doing in the city?" you asked, squeezing past him into the window seat as he towered over to the side of the walkway to make room, you see his eyes glaze over for a split second before he says "just a reunion with the boys."

"how are they! you guys were always quite the gang."

"yeah," he paused, slight hesitation lingering in his voice, "they're good i mean, really good."

the thunder crackling, a shot of lightning briefly lighting the gloomy sky as the scenery beyond your cabin window blurred with the speeding train.

"you look awful," he says, words slipping out absentmindedly, his eyes widening in absolute horror as he spluttered an apology, rambling on, "not as in you're ugly but your clothes, your stuff, it just looks a little...disheveled."

you burst into laughter, the first time today, "my bag was stolen today, some guy on a motorbike snatched it and knocked me over, it was crazy! i tried chasing him too!" you recounted the story again, but for the first time today, in humour.

"pfft, sorry not the point, you tried chasing him?" his mouth curving into his signature lazy grin.

"what's your point strawberry head?" narrowing your eyes at him as he raised his hands, pleading innocence. "you okay though?"

"i'll survive, can't say the same for my job, had some really important work documents there, weren't supposed make copies, now they're gone."

"oh..."

"yeah, i'm so pissed but well the jury will be out after the weekend," you sighed, "but anyway should we be talking about how you look just as bad as me, makki?"

a boyish laugh resonates from him, it does something to you, the familiar scratchiness of it inscribed in your mind from long ago. the corner of his eyes crinkled, "shit i guess i do," he said. "mhmm," you hummed, nodded along in laughter.

"the reunion," he cleared his throat, "i mean first off, this is not even close to being as bad as your day," he precautioned.

"just get on with it," you rolled your eyes.

twisting and fiddling the ring on his pinky, "just saw everyone doing really well, what with oikawa and iwaizumi being on olympic teams, even mattsun has a steady career and plan you know? i think i'm second guessing myself? i thought i was living life, having fun, but sometimes everything feels like filler before death.”

you nodded along to him, listening intently. you had always known makki to be more of a free spirit so this was rare.

"we all have those days," you mumble under your breath.

you let a comfortable silence fall between you, rummaging your bag for the slightly squished convenience store sandwich and your earphones.

"it’s tough huh, trying to find our place now.” you said, handing him one side of your earphones.

“yeah, so much easier when you’re two dumbasses goofing around, playing with erasers and tic tac toe during class," he slotted in the bud, and you do the same, as the ambient music filled your ears.

“you and mattsun?" you probed.

“no you, you and me.” for second his playful facade falters. his eyes lingering on yours as you held each other captive, your stare burning through his enigmatic grey eyes, a raw emotional intensity that made it seem like time had slowed down, neither of you finding the courage to make a move in the moment of impenetrable tension.

"i guess the rain is quite fitting for a day like this." you finally dared to look away, taking in the storm weathering just beyond your window, "but somehow i feel a little better now makki. maybe it's your pink hair."

"you do love it," he said, "i feel a little better too," he whispered, and you barely catch it.

—

he took a deep breath in, releasing it in a heavy sigh. “miyagi air right? nothing like it.”

“can’t tell if you’re a free spirit or an old man now.” you stepped off the platform, bags in hand.

"let me walk you tonight. you don’t have an umbrella.”

“neither do you?” you pointed out, handing him one of your bags as the both of you walked towards the exit.

"don't worry, i've got a plan," he winked a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

—

the wind howls, your hair violently blowing into his face, "this was your genius plan makki? run a little faster will you!" you shout over the blaring pour of the rain, incredulous.

"easy for you to say, you're not the one hauling your heavy ass bag." one of your bags slung around his shoulder, arms stretched around the both of you as he holds his jacket up for cover. well, your cover, his exposed side completely drenched.

"we're close," you called out, awkwardly trudging across the puddle ridden road, his warmth emanating from beside you as your heart raced in your chest, though you couldn't decide if that was the rain or makki, more probably both you finally decided.

"we actually made it in one piece." you breathe a sigh of relief as you finally made it under the roof of your home, catching your breath a little as he twisted his rain soaked jacket.

"what are you waiting for? aren't you gonna open it?" he asked.

"okay what?"

"open the door?"

"i don't have the keys, they got stolen remember?" you said dubiously, now working the water out of your clothes as he gave you a baffled look.

"what? how are we gonna get in?

"well i assumed you had the keys?"

"how in the world would in have your keys?"

"in that confe-, letter i gave you? said you were here all the time you might as well have the key and gave you a key?"

"letter? what letter, y/n?"

"wait the letter...you didn't receive it?" the colour in your face drained, you took a sudden notice to his drenched figure.

"you're soaked dumbass." you say in an attempt to quickly move on, unzipping your bag to pull out a fresh t-shirt. he tries to stop you but you don't let him.

"shut up just let me do this makki." you pull on his forearm, tugging him down to meet your eye-level, his face inches from yours as you gently pat his face and neck dry.

"is this just an excuse to kiss me?" the same lazy smirk playing on his face again but his expression morphs into an unreadable one, eyes clouding, "the letter," he whispered looking down at you, his bangs skirting his lashes as you dabbed his cheek with a t-shirt.

"you wish you could kiss me," you joke.

"i do wish," he doesn't.

"was it a confession?" you didn't answer him, "can i kiss you makki?" the burning desire held off long enough as you somehow found the courage to ask.

makki broke into a smile, clumsily taking your hands in his, hurriedly dragging you back into the rain shower. hard rain hitting you, massaging your head, but even as you felt your senses become overwhelmed your attention was still singly engrossed by the man in front of you.

"what are you doing? i just patted you dry!" you reprimanded him, shouting over the pour of the rain, looking up at him, now 6'1, his soft gaze easily slipping past your faux stern one.

"it's more dramatic this way," he whispered, his hand gently caressing your face, thumb running circles on the now flushed apples of your cheek, his eyes becoming clearer to you as you finally begun to understand the liquid grey eyes that held you captive for so long. your heart speeding up again, butterflies fluttering aggressively in your stomach.

you tiptoed a little, eagerly reaching a hand into his now drenched strawberry pink hair that you were always so fixated on. he responded in kind, securing an arm around your waist, hoisting you up, you body colliding into his warmth, lower lip tingling a little as he traced it with his slightly calloused thumb. finally, he cups your jaw, taking your lips in his.

his lips warm, soft, impossibly plush against your own, the soft tickle of your hair on his cheek, your honeyed taste playing on his tongue, the shared warmth between you melding into one, your heartbeat synchronous, in perfect parallel with your harmonised movement. lips slightly parted, he bit your lower lip as you moaned a little.

"you think the neighbours can see us?" you pulled away, holding his cheeks in your hands, still in a slight daze.

"don't know, don't care."

"when did it become a drizzle?" you asked as he shrugged in response, desperate to capture your lips in his again.

and you guys stood there, in the light drizzle of the rain, soft rays of sunlight finally peaking through the glum clouds, making out for the audience of your entire neighbourhood, enjoying the petrichor of the rain. because yeah you were still locked out of your house, yeah you were probably getting fired and yeah he still didn't know shit about what he was gonna do, but everything seemed just a little bit better.

"i guess the rain was quite fitting for a day like this.”

sol's comments: can you tell i have no idea how to write a makeout scene? :")

m.list | each and every reblop is appreciated ☻ (+ free hugs)

#sweet by sol 💗 #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hanamaki takahiro x reader #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki x reader #makki x reader #makki fluff #strawbeari requests: mailed #i made something! — sol ⋆·˚ ༘ *

[n00dl3gal]

Like Old Times (Father-Son Bonding AU)

A direct sequel to the “Expiration Date” fic, which I’ll link in a reblog. I’ve also posted all my fics in this AU to AO3!! Thanks again to @thetriggeredhappy for their help and just generally being a cool dude, and the Scoutsune Discord server for indulging my brainrot

No warnings beyond family schmoop!

Less than an hour after the bread monster incident, the Administrator called for a ceasefire. “Only while your base is repaired,” she said over the TV screen. “BLU is quite disappointed in this negligence- as am I. Regardless, you may use these three days as you see fit. Go home, stay here- whatever you do, no more bread monsters.” The screen turned off with a click. 

Scout exhaled through his nose. He was thankful there was no mention of him or Miss Pauling’s woodchipper. 

Spy decloaked behind him. “Less time than I wanted, but c’est la vie.” Scout looked at him over his shoulder. “I’m meeting with an old contact during our break,” Spy said in Italian. “Would you like to come along? It’ll be like old times.” 

Scout’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. At least this way, he’d get out of helping Engie and Heavy with repairs. And possibly meeting Miss Pauling’s woodchipper. 

“Excellent. Our flight is at 7 AM tomorrow.” 

“We’re flying commercial?” Scout asked, also in (more hesitant) Italian. 

“Our destination is continental. We’ll leave the base by 5:30.” Scout groaned as Spy started to leave. But- wait, he hadn’t- 

“Oi, where are we going, anyway?” he called back in English. 

Spy paused to look at him and smile. “Boston.” 

“Why do we always get the ass-crack-of-dawn flights?” Jeremy asked groggily, reclining his seat.

“They are the ones with first-class seats available,” Raphael replied. He took a sip from his mimosa. 

“Yeah, cuz God forbid you fly coach for once.” Jeremy shifted, trying to get comfortable. “Hey. Have I ever been to Boston before?”

Raphael didn’t answer immediately. His lip sucked in, as if in thought. “Yes. When you were very, very young. You wouldn’t remember.” 

Jeremy nodded. He wanted to ask more, there was something Raphael wasn’t saying but… well, he was never a morning person. He fell asleep before the plane even took off. 

. . .

It was mid-afternoon by the time they landed in Boston. Jeremy was never fond of long flights; having his legs cramped like that for extended periods of time was murder. He was half tempted to take a jog around Logan International. Raphael, on the other hand, was ushering them both to the car rental. “Can’t even get a stretch in, huh?”

“Unfortunately, we are expected by 4, and I would hate to keep my contact waiting,” Raphael explained in French, accepting the keys from the girl at the counter. “She’s not a very patient woman, in some regards.” 

Jeremy huffed but didn’t argue. He just followed his father to the rental, tossing his suitcase in the backseat. “Y’know, the girl at the counter-” 

“We will not have time for you to go out on a date, Jeremy.” 

“No! No, it was- her accent’s kinda like mine, it’s weird,” Jeremy said. Raphael started the car. “Cuz I’ve only been here as a baby, and I got mine from TV and shit. It’s just… really strange, is all.” 

Raphael made a quiet noise of agreement. “Some of the shows you watched as a child were filmed here. It’s not as complex as you think it is.” 

“Yeah, probably not…” 

The pair lapsed into silence as Raphael drove. Storefronts and high rises morphed into houses. It had been a while since they were in a residential area. RED, for understandable reasons, kept away from civilians. 

Raphael took the roads with practiced experience. Sure, it had been implied he knew the area. If he had a contact here- one with a house, presumably- he must’ve spent time here. But this- this was far too familiar. A bit suspicious, actually. 

Eventually, Raphael slowed in front of a more rundown Brownstone. Still quite nice, just needed a little work. It felt… welcoming, in a way Jeremy couldn’t name.

“Lotta cars,” he observed as Raphael parallel parked. “Must be a party going on somewhere.” 

“Hmm, perhaps,” Raphael said, turning the car off. “Would you mind ringing the doorbell for me? I need to grab something from the trunk. Ask for Sara Jane.” 

OK, now Jeremy knew something was up. He was never the one to make the first contact, that was always Dad’s job. Jeremy might be a full-grown adult, but there were some things that didn’t change. This was one of them. 

Still, he nodded. He climbed up the front steps and ringed the doorbell. He heard- multiple voices from inside, predominantly male, but they quickly silenced themselves. A TV, perhaps? They really ought to get that flower box on the second story window fixed- 

The woman who opened the door was a bit shorter than him, though not by much. She was wearing a simple dress, hoop earrings, and flats. Her hair was dark, curved to her chin. But her nose and earlobes felt… achingly familiar. Like Jeremy saw them all the time. 

“Um, hi, I’m looking for Sara Jane? My name’s-” The rest of his speech was knocked out of him as the woman launched herself at him. Jeremy braced for an attack, but quickly realized she was… hugging him. 

She was hugging him, sobbing, and choked out the word “Jeremy.” 

Wait. He knew that voice. He had only heard it a few times in his life, few enough he could count them on one hand, but he knew it. “M-Ma?” he whispered. 

The woman- Sara Jane- Ma looked up at him, still crying. Her hands found his face as she observed him. “Y-yeah, sweetie, it’s me, it’s-it’s your ma,” she said. 

“Ma!” he laughed, tears of his own dancing down his cheeks. He hugged her back, practically lifting her off her feet. “Oh my God, Ma! I-I never thought I’d-” 

“Oh Jeremy, sweetie, look how tall you’ve gotten! Last I saw you, you fit in my arms! My baby, my handsome baby,” she spoke over him. She rubbed circles into his back as they embraced. It felt so, so right. 

Jeremy laughed even harder. “Are you kiddin’? I got it from you, you’re beautiful, Ma!” He stared at her, trying to commit every mole and wrinkle and perfect flaw to memory. “I can’t believe- oh my God, I’m actually meeting you!” 

“It was long overdue,” another voice said, as Raphael joined them on the front stoop. “I had put it off for safety reasons, but considering our current, ah, situation… I felt it was worth the risk.” 

Sara Jane squealed, pulling Raphael into the hug as well. “You’ve been taking good care of my boy, you promise me, Raphael?” 

“Don’t worry Ma, he’s the best dad I could ask for, considering,” Jeremy teased. 

“Oh, don’t I know it. Called me up last night and told me to get the whole motley crew together. Even managed to get Melvin to bring his twin daughters, bless his wife’s heart,” she explained. 

Jeremy blinked. “Uh- Melvin? Daughters?”

Sara Jane laughed. It sounded so much like Jeremy’s it practically hurt. This was his mother. Lord, he’s finally seeing her. “Melvin’s your older brother, sweetie. Eh, sixth oldest. Bobby’s the oldest.” 

“I have a brother?”

“Oh honey, you’re the youngest of eight,” Sara Jane said plainly. 

“...fuck,” Jeremy whispered. 

. . .

He didn’t just have seven brothers. He had seven brothers, four of which brought their wives, one who brought his boyfriend, and three who brought their kids. And the kids totaled to an additional six, counting the babies. 

It was… an admittedly tight squeeze in the living room. 

Sara Jane introduced Jeremy. Jeremy had been expecting to be treated like a stranger. He had vanished when he was a baby, after all, and his younger-older brothers probably wouldn’t remember him at all. 

And yet, it was like he knew them all his life. 

They teased him and punched him playfully and acted so friendly, so familial it nearly made Jeremy break down. He was still crying from meeting Ma, but being dogpiled with so much affection was suffocating. In a good way. He had seen on sitcoms the intrinsic bond between family, and while he felt it with Dad, they also risked their lives nearly daily. But it was real, it was here, and it was wrapping him in a warm blanket. 

Despite the chaos and the sheer number of people, Jeremy didn’t feel overwhelmed. He laughed and played along with their jokes, cracking some back when he could get a word in. Scott ragged on his dog tags, he countered by pointing out the hole in his pants. Michael told him he was still a shortass, he replied with “it takes one to know one.” Elliot and Ricky were the closest to actually getting hurt, and that was only because Jeremy elbowed them both so hard they nearly fell over. 

For the first time in 25 years, Jeremy understood what “home” meant. 

The kids were especially curious, eager to meet their uncle and step-grandfather. Within seconds, young Rebecca- only four years old- was challenging Jeremy to a race around the house. “I’m the fastest kid in the world,” she bragged, puffing out her chest. 

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy asked. “That a fact?”

“You wanna test me? I beat Johnny Three-Legs at running, and he’s got three legs!” Jeremy laughed and stood from the couch, letting her lead him outside. “On the count of three, OK?”

“You’re on, pipsqueak,” Jeremy teased.

“Onetwothree GO!” Rebecca yelled, taking off in a sprint. Jeremy knew that, by all accounts, he should beat her. His legs were longer, she didn’t have the proper running stance, and it was his job to be fast. That’s what he got paid to do. But some small voice was telling him to let her win, so he did. “Ha! I told ya!” 

“Ya sure did,” he replied, mock panting. “Look at you, a freaking blur on the green. You’re goin’ to the Olympics, kid.” 

Rebecca beamed and hugged his leg. “Promise, Uncle Jeremy?” He nodded because, after that display, there was no way he could speak without squeaking like a chew toy. 

Rebecca skipped back inside, past Raphael, who was watching on the stoop. “You’re a natural with children,” he observed. “I used to do the same thing when you were that age.” 

“Wait- wait, really? You sure fooled me,” Jeremy said. 

Raphael rolled his eyes. “What’s my job again, mon lapin?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jeremy leaned against the railing, watching Raphael’s cigarette smoke in the wind. “Hey. Uh… thanks for arranging all of this. You really didn’t need to.”

“But I did. I meant it when I said this was overdue. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to the rest of the family for a while, but have been unable. Then that whole ordeal with the supposed tumors, and-” Raphael exhaled slowly. “It wouldn’t have been fair to you if you died without knowing them. I would’ve never forgiven myself.” 

Jeremy punched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, pops. It all worked out, we’re still kicking, and that roast chicken Ma’s making smells incredible. Everything’s perfect.” 

Raphael finished his cigarette and smiled. “Oui. It is.” 

. . .

While Sara Jane had been able to get the rest of the family here, it was a school night. Kids needed to be tucked in by 9:30, so most of Jeremy’s brothers were gone by 8. Elliot was staying overnight, as was his boyfriend. Otherwise, the house quickly went from bustling to barren. 

It gave Jeremy a chance to explore his would-be childhood home.

He made his way upstairs, pushing open one of the doors. It led- to little surprise- to a bedroom. It was set up like a nursery, with a crib in one corner and a toddler bed in the other. Toys were scattered about across the floor. 

He heard Sara Jane sigh behind him. “This was your room, you know.” Jeremy turned to look at her as she flipped the light switch. “That crib… I had put you to bed the night your father planned to fake his death. I was in on the whole plan, naturally. He wanted to hold you one last time, so I said OK. When I woke up the next morning… you were both gone.” She exhaled slowly, grabbing onto his shoulder. “I wrote both of you off as dead, but I knew what had happened. Honestly, should’ve figured it out before then. You hadn’t woken me up crying,” she joked. Her eyes were watering. 

Jeremy hugged her, pulling her close. “You never took the crib down?” 

“By the time I was ready, Bobby’s wife was pregnant, so I kept it up for my grandbabies. I knew- I knew you were out there, sweetie. Both of you.” She kissed his cheek, squeezing him.

“I-I never got to be a normal kid, really,” he confessed. “I mean, Dad did his best, gave me comic books and board games and stuff, but-but I never went to school or made friends or anything like that. I-I didn’t even know I had a family. It took me forever to even realize I had a Ma. An-and everything I did-” The tears were flowing again, more freely than earlier. “Ya missed me losing my first tooth, and potty trainin’, and all that stuff parents should know about. I-I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Sara Jane wiped his cheek dry. “Don’t apologize for what your father did, Jeremy. And definitely don’t apologize for me not potty training another kid. Besides… hold on, I’ll be right back.” She made her way down the hallway. Jeremy didn’t follow, instead deciding to examine the crib. This was where he grew up. It was a simple crib, obviously well-used. Not worn-down, mind, just… used. It had a history. A history that Jeremy wanted to decode, but unlike his dad’s ciphers, he didn’t have the key. 

“Took me a second to find it,” Sara Jane said. She handed him what appeared to be a scrapbook. “Raphael- he wrote when he can. Taught me some basic codes, would send out letters whenever you’d leave a town. Never left a return address, but…” Jeremy flipped through the pages, moving to sit on the small bed. The letters were all coded but appeared to be about how much Raphael missed Sara Jane. Updates on Jeremy’s growth. Letters from a father to his lover and son’s mother. 

One page jumped out to him, though. “I remember this,” he said, running his fingers against the paper. It was a simple drawing of a young boy, holding a catcher’s mitt, and a taller man next to him. “I drew this after Dad took me to my first baseball game, for my eighth birthday. I thought I lost the drawing after we skipped town, but- he sent them to you?”

Sara Jane nodded. “And I kept them all. Oh, honey, the day I first heard your voice on the phone- Mikey can tell you, I damn near fell over. You sounded so happy, and even if I couldn’t see you, that’s all a mother wants.” Jeremy leaned against her and she shut the book. “That’s all a mother wants, sweetie. To see her kids be safe and happy.” 

“I am, Ma,” he assured her. “I promise.” 

They sat like that for a while, with Sara Jane commenting on various letters and drawings in the scrapbook. Apparently, Raphael sent her money when he could- more frequently now that Mann Co. paid so well. She also had a rough idea of their current occupations. “I figure, if you and your father are working for the same company- with his skills, there’s gotta be a whole lot of nonsense going on out in that desert.” Jeremy laughed at that because she wasn’t wrong. “But I also figure since he raised you right, he’ll keep the both of you safe.” 

“I keep him safe too, don’t worry,” Jeremy added. “Uh- listen, it’s touching and all you kept the crib, but I don’t have to sleep in it, right?” 

They both had a good chuckle over that. Their laughs were in perfect harmony. 

. . .

The next two days were a mix of learning the family history and exploring Boston. It was the offseason, so there weren’t any games going on at Fenway, but Jeremy still got a picture in front of the park. Sara Jane took the pair to a restaurant that served “the best damn clam chowder in the contiguous United States.” Which, incidentally, led them to discover Jeremy was allergic to clams. Thankfully they didn’t have to go to the hospital- he just sort of immediately got sick before it passed- but it did suck.

It was damn good chowder, though. 

They went down to the harbor where the Boston Tea Party happened. It was crowded with people, resulting in them not staying long. Jeremy was a bit better with crowds than Raphael, but neither was great with them. Came with the job. Getting overpriced memorabilia from a nearby gift shop, though, went over much more smoothly. 

When not out on the town, Sara Jane dug out more scrapbooks and photo albums, catching Raphael up on what his stepsons had been up to. She showed Jeremy pictures from Ricky’s first school play to Scott opening up his butcher shop. Graduation pictures, wedding pictures, baby pictures- it was all there, and Jeremy devoured it. He wanted to know these people. He wanted to know his family. And he did. He learned about Michael’s stint in the Navy, Melvin meeting his wife, how Bobby’s son could dribble a basketball for twenty minutes straight. He learned about how his parents met. How Raphael loved each of Sara Jane’s children, even if they weren’t biologically his. How Jeremy wasn’t planned- few of the kids were - but they were both so, so happy to realize he was coming. 

He also learned that, while diner food would remain the undisputed king, homemade meatloaf came pretty close. 

. . .

The only problem came when it was time to leave. It wasn’t that Jeremy didn’t want to return to work, or leave his Ma behind. Sara Jane wasn’t even torn up over losing her son and lover again. It just felt like there was so much left to say, to do. There was uncertainty as to when they’d be able to return. “We get time off for Smissmas, I know that’s months away but I’ll be here, I promise,” Jeremy swore, hugging Sara Jane for the eighth time. 

“You better,” she said, squeezing him tightly. “You have 25 years worth of gifts to catch up on, not to mention birthday gifts-”

“Ma, you don’t have to go that far,” he whined. He was touched, sure, but the thought of that much luggage was truly frightening. Oh God, he was going to have to get gifts for everybody, wasn’t he? What do kids even want for Smissmas? 

“Hush, let me spoil my baby,” Sara Jane told him, kissing his cheek. “Oh, Jeremy…” 

Jeremy nodded. “I know, but I’ll call. I’ll write, too. Send pictures if I can.” 

“I’ll make sure he does,” Raphael assured her. Sara Jane stood to kiss his lips, with Jeremy looking away pointedly. “You have my word, ma petite chou-fleur.” 

“Alright, alright- now get going, I don’t want you two missing your flight. That boss of yours sounds like she’ll tear you both a new one if you’re late,” Sara Jane said, shooing them away. “Love you boys!” 

“I love you too, Ma!” Jeremy shouted back, for the very first time. 

The drive back to the airport was quiet. Jeremy stared out the window, watching his hometown- he had a hometown- pass by. “Hey, dad?” he asked, still looking outside. Raphael grunted to acknowledge he was listening. “One of these days, our contracts with Mann Co. are gonna expire. We’re gonna have to find new jobs.” 

“Yes, that’s correct,” Raphael said. He tapped a rhythm against the steering wheel. 

“And-and I was thinking when that time comes… maybe we could come back to Boston. Find some gigs out here,” Jeremy suggested. 

Raphael sighed. “Unfortunately, being a spy means that you don’t have the option of retiring, Jeremy. Not until you’re unable to complete your job. At that point, though, you’ve probably died a dozen times over,” he explained. “Even if I could retire, settling down somewhere so close to people I care about- I would still have enemies.” 

“Right. ‘Course,” Jeremy said. “It’s OK.” 

“That being said,” Raphael continued, “you have the luxury of youth and not being tied down to such a career. If you want to find a job in Boston after we finish with RED, there’s nothing stopping you.” 

“But people will still be after me, since I’m your son. And you wouldn’t be around.”

“Every child leaves their parents someday. And you’re strong, Jeremy. You can protect yourself and your family.” Raphael smiled. “I don’t believe Sara Jane needs much protecting, but I do worry.” 

Jeremy laughed. “I mean, did ya see the muscles on Scott and Michael? Guys can probably bench press a tractor!” 

They both chuckled before settling into quietude. Eventually, though, Jeremy had to break the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, mon lapin.”

“...so your nickname for Ma is fucking ‘little cauliflower?’ What the hell, Dad?” 

#father-son bonding au #Team Fortress 2 #team fortress 2 au #tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 scout's mom #dad spy #thetriggeredhappy #spy x scout's ma #noodle writes

[luckyasfuck]

maybe i just wanna be yours [k. bakugou]

A CAMBOY AU SERIES - PARTS 1, 2, [3], 4, 5

pairing // katsuki x female reader

tw // cussing, smut

warnings for this part // (kinda?) mutual masturbation

theme // enemies to lovers au, camboy!katsu au, college student!katsu and reader au, no quirk au

keys // y/n, l/n, h/c

words // 1.8k

a/n // pt. 4 will be written at 100 likes and posted at 5-10 reblogs :). i’m glad ya’ll are enjoying it, send criticism and/or ideas in my inbox.

previous part I masterlist

y/n’s head was no longer cloudy.

it scared her at first,  her twitter username and bio must have gave it all away. part of her hoped that katsuki wouldn’t notice the notification, and if he did, well she hopes he’d be too dumb or oblivious to know it was her. but of course, bakugou fucking katsuki wasn’t like that. y/n would know, especially when she woke up him following her back.

fucking son of a bitch.

it was very obvious that it was katsuki. from his voice during lives to his demeanor with his posts: reserved. it was a bitch to think about, no matter what y/n did it was all that occupied her mind. she was aware of the comments she had left on his last live, her other hand too busy pumping her fingers in and out of her pussy to make more than two. that’s what bothered her. not only did she get off to her rival of all people, she did it twice. twice!

she thought about it the whole morning as she reached UA. a person came from behind and bumped her shoulder, rushing to the group of people crowding the main gate. y/n knotted her eyebrows, her mind was too all over the place to know what they could have been fussing about.

the crowd completely blocked the gate and she sighed, opting to take another route until someone grabbed her arm. thinking it was a teacher or a student, she turned around with a smile.

what the fuck.

katsuki stood there gripping her arm and her heart dropped. she yanks his hand away and glared at him, goddamn if looks could kill katsuki would’ve made it to heaven right about now. she stared at him with so much intensity, it almost looked like she was gonna go crazy over the fact that he stopped her, let alone even touch her.

fuck, that’s hot. katsuki gulped and mentally slapped himself after the thought. “don’t let the teachers see you-” he whispered, looking around. y/n sighed, “too late.” she looked behind him where their Biology professor stood with a smile.

“good morning, kids! i’m glad i found you two together, which is um... quite new, don’t you think?” the old woman greeted. katsuki rolled his eyes before facing her, standing beside y/n.

the h/c-haired girl didn’t like being near him at all, he had this weird aura and she didn’t know what his intentions were at all. and him approaching her for the first time without being forced by a professor after the shenanigans of last night? way too timed to be a coincidence, though she wishes it was. 

“if you don’t know yet, our school’s competing with others schools with this little competition our school made.” the old woman got straight to the point. “the competition is that weekly for this month, a duo would take a quiz on a specific subject together. the subject changes every week and the questions get harder and harder! the 5 duos with the lowest scores are eliminated. it’s said on the board right there!” she pointed to where the students crowded.

“um, okay...? why are you telling us this then?” y/n questioned, adjusting her grip on her bag as the professor smiled again whilst katsuki breathed out a loud sigh. 

“i want you both to be the duo that represents our school!”

“miss-” katsuki started, but got cut off. “don’t you think we’re the worst duo for this? i mean,” y/n laughed sarcastically. “you know we hate each other, everyone fucking knows tha-”

“language, miss l/n.” the professor’s sternly scolded and y/n flinches a bit at the change of mood. “yes, ma’am.” the younger girl looked down on her shoes. “i think it’s a good opportunity for the two of you,” the old woman pointed to the two students. “to get along. you two are really gifted, and i don’t want our school to lose this or get humiliated just because you two have beef with each other for reasons unknown.”

y/n was sweating under her jacket and she gulped as the woman walked away, letting them know her decision was final. katsuki breathed out a deep sigh, face-palming. “what are we gonna do now? knowing that bitch, she’ll tell everyone we said yes.”

y/n didn’t bother to argue with the blonde, she knew he was right. the crowd near the gate starts to disappear and she leaves without responding to katsuki. she doesn’t know where the fuck he got the confidence to talk to her so casually. more like she wished she didn’t know.

she knew that he knew.

and he knew that she knew too. 

so simple yet so complicated.

class dragged out and y/n hasn’t spared a single glance at katsuki. she’s done this almost everyday since she met him, so it was easy to do. if only he’d stop staring into her soul, knowing she can see him in the corner of her eye. 

katsuki’s always liked to stare, though he had nothing to stare at. and now he does, even he doesn’t like how much he’s staring. he’d snap out of it, curse himself and y/n too while he’s at it, then get caught in a daze while staring at her again. 

multiple teachers approached them and individually asked them about the competition, their answers were the same the whole time, a bland “yeah, we’re competing as the duo.”

the students sat in their last class, blabbering around and not caring anymore. it was the last class, after all. they were tired and wanted to go home, but of course, they can’t. at least not yet. y/n didn’t feel like listening, she was tired too. doodling in her notebook, her heart drops when the professor calls her name. fuck, i don’t know the answe-

“oh. and mister bakugou too. i think it’s for the competition, the principal wants you two.” the old male lets out an intrigued hum. “don’t you guys hate each other?” y/n and katsuki walked out the room silently, filling the room with embarrassment on the professors side. 

the female walked on the other end of the corridor, she didn’t like katsuki at all. his mere presence makes her gag, and she knows it’s the same for him too. that’s why they opted to stay as far away from each other as possible.

the ash blonde walks into the principal’s office with y/n hot on his trail. “take a seat.” the principal said, not looking up from his paperwork. “listen, you two. i heard a lot from teachers about how you compete with each other, but the both of you are the smartest duo here. all i want is for you two to study together and pass the quizzes as best as you can. you don’t even have to get along! and your grades will be perfect A+’s for the whole month, and if you win, maybe i’ll extend to a month more.”

y/n and katsuki’s eyes widened at the offer, it was so tempting. and education always came first before pride anyway. “fine, i’ll do it.” y/n was the first to speak while katsuki just nodded his head.

“it’s settled then.”

[ timeskip ]

y/n plopped down on her bed. the two of them got sent home early and were forced to share socials with each other. they were also granted permission to use the library whenever they wanted, and were given the schedule to study together from their last two classes until whenever they liked. and before going their separate ways, she told katsuki to text her a plan if he had one.

her phone dings and she automatically assumed it was him. and it was. just... a little more lewd. definitely not what she was expecting.

y/n cussed, “since when the fuck did i let this stupid fucking site give me notifications?” katsuki’s heavy breathing and occasional grunts boomed through her speaker and she hurried to click off it, until her eyes landed on his cock.

from what seemed like it, he had already cum once, the white liquid dripping from his slit down his lenght. y/n can’t seem to tear her eyes from the way he stroked his cock, so gentle yet so rushed, so... satisfying.

she shakes her head and kicks herself out of her absurd train of thoughts, thumb hovering over the ‘X’ on the top left of the site. “have you joined the live, pretty face?” she flinches when she heard his raspy voice, thighs unconciously rubbing together and panties already soaked. 

“i hope you have, fuck. been thinking about you all day, mhmm~ why don’t you drop your little comments for me?” she could practically hear the smirk in his words, and it irritated her. but fuck, if he wasn’t so attractive. his perfectly sculpted body, his voice, and that pretty cock. it was that fucking cock.

“are you touching yourself, pretty face? you better. this live’s all for you.” katsuki moaned out, stroking himself faster. y/n watched as the chat went crazy, all of them confessing their sins to him like he was some sort of God.

and maybe he was, cause she found herself running a finger through her wet folds as she watched the camboy play with his tip. she shoves a finger inside, moaning with him before moving in and out parallel to his strokes. 

katsuki comes again, his strokes coming to a half. he pants before smirking, “pretty face, lookie here.” he shows a fleshlight to the camera, his tip prodding at the toys entrance. y/n slowly adds another finger as he sunk the toy down onto his cock, both of them moaning.

they both fuck themselves into oblivion while thinking of each other, katsuki’s hips violently fucking into the toy as he hissed, “fuck, i bet your pussy feels a lot better.” y/n felt her cunt clench around her finger at the statement as she started to rub her clit as well. 

she orgasms a little bit before katsuki shot his load into the toy, both their movements halting as they tried to catch their breath. she types in a comment before finally exiting the site, feeling slightly disgusted of what she just did. she shudders and opts on taking a shower before napping.

“you dirty little thing.”

katsuki felt his cock twitch at y/n’s comment. he ended the live right after, knowing she probably left already. the notifications for money he hoarded sat heavy on his account and he smiled, cleaning himself up after. the image of her with her legs open, her fingers buried deep in her cunt and her moaning uncontrollably was all that filled katsuki’s brain.

and he fucking hates it. he hates how much power the desires of his cock had over him when he was horny.

and the only desire his cock had was her.

next part I masterlist

taglist:

@princesspeach-00 @tamakisropebunny @bakugous-mamas @ll379333 @j1-914 @gazelle-des-pres @trashpandainahat @dickinson-67 @victoriaestein @amelie-chan @your-worst-obsession [ cannot tag last two ]

#bakugou smut #katsuki smut #mha #mha smut #bakusquad smut #bnha smut #class 1-a smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou imagines #katsuki imagines #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki smut

[ikeromantic]

Friends and Frenemies

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - approx. 2800 words. This scene takes place after the events of the romantic epilogue. Mostly fluff, slightly spicy.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Kitsune's Day Out

Mitsuhide sat on the floor with his little mouse in his lap. His fingers stroked the nape of her neck as he listened intently to Sarutobi.

Sasuke and Miyake sat across from them on the edge of the bed. Miyake’s expression was somewhere between awe and exhaustion. He wasn’t saying much, just staring into empty space with a confused grin.

The ninja looked mildly pleased as he talked. “My professor took a little convincing. We had to call in the history department chair to talk to Miyake.”

“What did he want to know?” The chatelaine’s eyes were heavy with sleep. They’d spent the day walking around Kyoto, looking at historical sites - things Mitsuhide should recognize.

Of course, everything was so changed from his time that the places they visited may as well have been new. Even if they were the same structures, what lay around them had changed so much as to render the buildings and monuments unrecognizable.

Sasuke shrugged. “Details. It was like watching a verbal exam in a master class. And then he made Miyake pick out his own sword from a room of Sengoku period weapons. It was impressive watching him look each one over.”

At this, the warrior chuckled. “I almost didn’t. It was strange to see Kichihiroe looking so old and worn.”

Mitsuhide smiled. “But you did. So all is well.” He turned his attention back to Sasuke. “What is the benefit of bringing these men in on our secret?”

“Well, first off, this.” He handed Miyake and Mitsuhide campus ID cards. “You are both now officially visiting professors, with a stipend and everything. There was a small . . . additional favor they requested from you.”

“Which is?” Mitsuhide raised one eyebrow.

Miyake answered. “They want you to come in and answer questions. A lot of questions.” He wiped his brow. “They started in on me today and there is just no end!”

Sarutobi nodded a confirmation.

“So . . . they want to pay you to answer questions about the Sengoku era? And that’s it? That doesn’t sound so bad.” The chatelaine grinned.

Mitsuhide shook his head. “I am not sure it’s so simple. This interaction - couldn’t it cause -” he thought for a moment, trying to find the words. “A complication? If I let slip something they don’t know, or they tell me something that will happen?”

“A paradox.” Sasuke’s mouth curled up in the slightest smile. “I considered that. But we are already living in a parallel timeline. One in which you and Nobunaga live, as well as some other changes.”

“So the things they tell us, those aren’t things that will happen?” Miyake sounded a little tense as he asked the question.

“Right,” Sarutobi replied. “Or, mostly right. We can’t be sure how far apart our timeline is from the original, so I encourage you to forget anything you may hear.”

Mitsuhide snorted. “Once a truth is heard, it cannot be so easily forgotten.”

“True enough. Can’t unring the bell, as they say. But are you willing to take that chance and talk with the history professor anyway?”

“I will.” Mitsuhide stroked his little one’s neck with gentle fingertips. “It will be interesting, regardless. And you have gone to a lot of trouble to arrange things. It’s the least I can do to play along.”

“I appreciate that.” Sasuke gave a little bow. “So what did you two do today?”

Miyake elbowed him and gave the two lovers a knowing wink.

Mitsuhide’s little one blushed and covered her face. “No! Nothing like that! Miyake! We just went shopping. Oh - and there were these men -”

“Who kindly helped me pick up our bags when I dropped them. We were very appreciative.” Mitsuhide interrupted her before she could give away any more information about their run in with the modern day bandits. Not that he didn’t trust Sasuke and Miyake. He did - as much as he trusted anyone. But it was always wise to keep information to yourself until there was a reason to share.

Sasuke blinked. “Ok. Well. Tomorrow, I’d like to take you up to the university, Mitsuhide. If that’s alright. You can both come if you want to.”

“Oh! But I needed to run by the office for my job tomorrow! I wanted to give them my apologies for disappearing so suddenly, just when they offered me a position.” She bit her lip. “I guess it can wait though.”

“I can go with her to do that, if you want me to,” Miyake put in.

Mitsuhide nodded. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea. You two can run errands tomorrow while I satisfy the curiosity of some modern scholars.”

“Are you sure?” The chatelaine looked uneasy.

“I am.” Mitsuhide kissed her cheek. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it not?”

After they made arrangements for the coming day, Mitsuhide and his little mouse trekked back to her flat, leaving Miyake and Sasuke to themselves. It wasn’t that he minded the company, but he wanted to have her to himself tonight.

They stopped at a ‘small’ grocery on the way home to pick up something for breakfast. While Mitsuhide had noticed the number of foodstalls, he had not considered an entire store with shelves full of food. He wanted to ask if this was normal, but one look at his little one’s face gave him the answer.

She was not surprised at all. With barely a glance at the stacks of fresh vegetables and fruits, she led him further into the store.

There were at least five types of vinegar, he noted. An assemblage of noodles that defied sense. Several types of rice. Beans. And a variety of things with names he couldn’t identify as food, all wrapped in bright packages. “Masamune would love this place,” Mitsuhide murmured.

“You think? Maybe we should bring him something back.” She smiled. “I’m surprised you thought of him just now.”

“He’s a -” Mitsuhide paused at the realization he was about to say friend. Not ally. Not colleague. Friend. He bit back the word and finished with, “man who loves his food.”

His little mouse didn’t appear to pick up on the omission. “He really is. And he wants everyone around him to enjoy it too.” She picked up a package of rice, then added, “I wish I was such a good cook.”

“I think you’re amazing.” Mitsuhide settled his palm lightly on her low back, reassuring.

She smiled wryly. “Says the man who doesn’t taste his food.”

“Kyubei thinks so too. And his taste buds work fine.”

“Mhmm. Kyubei would eat a pile of rocks and tell me it was delicious if he thought he was supposed to. But I appreciate the compliment.” She leaned against Mitsuhide and sighed. “I wonder how he’s doing right now.”

Mitsuhide considered. There were a number of things he wished he’d had time to tell Kyubei. And of course, he hadn’t counted on Azuchi being attacked but, “I’m sure he is well. Kyubei is resourceful, talented, and I’ve left him the tools he will need. You should worry less about him, and more about yourself.”

“What should I be worried about?”

He grinned and leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. With his lips almost touching her ear, he murmured, “You should worry about what I will do if I don’t get you alone soon.”

His little one inhaled sharply, cheeks heating. Her eyes were bright and full of desire as she replied. “Then we’d better hurry.”

They got back to her flat soon after, and unpacked the groceries. With the last items put away, she sat in a kitchen chair and looked up at Mitsuhide shyly.

It never failed to amuse him how innocent she could be in moments like these. As if she couldn’t admit what she wanted no matter how badly she wanted it. Of course, he’d take full advantage.

“How should I use your bath, little mouse? Can you show me how it works?” Mitsuhide already had an idea, but what fun was that?

“Oh! Yes. Sure. It would be good to clean up.” She led him to her small bathing room. “This handle is hot. This one cold. And if you press this, it will activate the shower. Just be careful where you point the nozzle.”

Mitsuhide leaned over her, pressing close. “So this one is hot?” He turned the handle.

“Umm . . . yes but, I should probably . . . get out of the way . . . the bathroom isn’t big enough-”

“And this one is cold?” He turned the other handle.

She nodded. “Yes. So. Ah, first rinse off with . . . with the shower. And . . . and th-then fill . . .”

Her distraction was deeply amusing. Possibly caused by his breath on the back of her neck and the way her hips met his. Not that he was unaffected. The press of her hips against him was maddening. The slight friction of cloth, the denial of skin to skin touch he ached for. But this was his game, and he knew what came next. Delay only made victory all the sweeter. Mitsuhide pressed the shower, and water fell like warm rain over them.

“Mitsuhide!” She gave a little shriek as he pulled her to standing under the flow. Her clothes clung to her skin, revealing as much as they hid. He could not wait to peel them off her.

“Oh dear. What have I done? Now you’re all wet!” He smiled widely and slid his hand under her shirt, popping the buttons open one after another.

She playfully swatted his other hand as he reached for her skirt. “You totally did that on purpose! I know you did!”

He shrugged. “Perhaps.” Mitsuhide slid her shirt off and enjoyed the sight of water pearling over the rise of her breast. Her soaked bra looked a deeper blue than it had when dry. A good color for her. His hands slipped around behind her, reaching for the clasp.

“You know, if you wanted to bathe together, you could have just said so.”

“Mmm, but this was more fun.” His fingers fumbled with the odd hook-and-eye catches, finally releasing them. Her bra fell away. Mitsuhide relished the sight. “You should probably help me get the rest of these clothes off. I’m fairly certain you don’t bathe wearing them in this age.”

She laughed softly and reached up to cup his cheek. “My wicked kitsune. No. We don’t.” And then she kissed him.

***

Kyubei frowned at the short, dark-haired man in front of him. “You can cut the act, Ranmaru. I’d recognize you anywhere. Besides, your work on that scar is atrocious. Who taught you disguises? Were they blind?”

The page - spy and ninja as well - sighed and set down the basket he was carrying. “I thought the scar was pretty good. It really changes my face. What gave it away?”

“Your fingers are still stained with beetjuice, for one. And you didn’t blend the edges well enough. I can see bits of raw paste at your hairline.”

“Well damn. Alright. You caught me. Are you here to kill me?” Ranmaru’s tone was light, joking, but there was nothing funny about the way his fingers curled around the hilt of the short blade he wore at his hip.

Kyubei rolled his eyes. “If I was going to kill you, you’d already be dead. I came to find out what you know - and how you know it. Are you willing to have a conversation with me?” He left out the alternative, which was knocking the page senseless, dragging him back to Azuchi, and putting him in the dungeon. He wanted to avoid that outcome. It wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Ranmaru shrugged. “Alright. Fine. But you’re buying us something to eat. I’m starving!”

“I can do that.” He led the page out of the alley they were in - a spot chosen in case things got ugly - and back into a market street. Kyoto was full of people selling things. He had his pick of at least a dozen stalls and shops for food, but made a beeline for one in particular. The proprietor was one of Mitsuhide’s informants, someone Kyubei could trust if this chat went sideways.

The two men sat down at a back table and ordered sake and food. Ranamru’s preference for sweet things had not changed in his absence. They were getting stewed peaches, peaches with rice, and peach-jelly stuffed mochi. Not to Kyubei’s taste at all, but then, he hadn’t come here for the food.

“What do you know about the attack on Azuchi?” Kyubei wasted no time getting to the point.

Ranmaru shrugged. “Would you believe I didn’t know it was going to happen?”

“No.”

The page giggled. It was a high, false sound with no real mirth. “Well, I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t believe me either. But I really didn’t know that was coming. I knew something was . . . my - my Master was working with some people. And they were coming to Azuchi so I knew they had something in mind. I thought . . .”

Ranmaru’s throat bobbed, stuck on the words. He looked away and wiped at his face.

Kyubei sighed. “So you weren’t sure what was planned. What did you think might happen? Is that what made you run?”

“Yes.” His voice was strained and he hadn’t looked up. “I thought . . . maybe they would try to kill him. Nobunaga. A direct attack. Or, poison? I - I didn’t want . . . but I was . . .”

“You were afraid they might ask for your help. Or participation.” Kyubei’s voice was pitched low, for Ranmaru’s ears only. This was not a subject to be discussed lightly.

The page nodded.

“So you ran.”

He nodded again.

Kyubei rubbed the short growth of hair on the top of his head. It was coming in, full and dark, but it itched some days. Especially after spending time on the road, with no rest. Touching it had become a habit for him when he was anxious or unhappy. This conversation was not making him happy.

“I didn’t want to be the one to - you know. Nobunaga has - he’s always been good to- to me. I thought, let them do their own dirty work. I would g-go back to Kennyo. Offer to be, to do a-anything else.” Ranmaru finally looked up. His expression was one of abject misery.

“I don’t blame you. It can be hard to serve two masters. Even when their goals usually align . . . often the methods do not.”

Ranmaru smiled bleakly. “I guess you understand a little.”

The tea and sweets came, and for a brief few minutes, the two men ate and drank in silence.

Finally, Kyubei asked, “So why aren’t you with Kennyo now?”

“I can’t find him. I know he’s working with . . .” Ranmaru’s jaw clenched. “I can’t say. But, I don’t know where they went. Or what they are planning next.”

“I need you to tell me the names, Ranmaru. Assume that I already know them, and from you, I only need confirmation.”

“Fine. Then you say them. I’ll nod if you’re right.”

Kyubei smiled. “Kicho.”

Nod.

“Motonari.”

Nod.

“The ‘shogun’ in exile.”

Nod.

“I was hoping the last one was a no. We worked so hard to set that boy up, but I suppose Yoshiaki’s allies got to him.” Kyubei took a deep breath. “And you really have no idea what they will do next?” He watched Ranmaru for tell-tale signs of a lie.

“I wish I did. I’d find Kennyo and get him away from those stray dogs.” The page almost spat.

“So what will you do now?”

Ranmaru tugged at his darkened locks, twisting them around his finger. “I don’t know. I am afraid to return to Nobunaga’s side. Afraid they will ask me to betray him. But that makes me a traitor to my Master. I am damned either way.” His voice was flat, empty of self-pity or any other emotion.

“You could work for me.”

The page raised an eyebrow. “You know I turned on both my masters. That I am a coward. What would you trust me with?”

“Well, not disguises, clearly.” Kyubei caught the curl of a slight smile on Ranmaru’s lips. “I’d want you to gather information from the daimyo loyal to the shogun. Nothing to do with either of your masters directly. No need to dig yourself a deeper grave.”

“I’d report everything to the Ikko Ikki too.”

Kyubei shrugged. “I’m fine with that? If Kenny’s monks act on the information, I doubt it will be to prop Ashikaga up further.”

Ranmaru chewed at his lip, thoughtful. Finally, he nodded. “I guess I can do that. Just until I find where Kennyo has gone and what he needs of me.”

“Then we have a deal. But I do have one more question before I leave you.”

“What?” The page eyed him, suspicious again.

Kyubei tapped his finger on the table, almost afraid of his own question. Asking it would be giving information away, but he needed to know. “Have you seen or heard from Akechi since the night of the attack on Azuchi?”

Next: Uncomfortable Questions

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen kyubei #otome boys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #hc

[lioncunt]

any way the wind blows review!!!

gonna put it under a cut but tl;dr i really really loved it and even the things that i was on the fence about i’ve decided i love as well lmfao

so i kind of knew going into both this and wayward son that the plot wouldn’t really EVER be as narratively satisfying as carry on’s. it would definitely be interesting and have a lot of cool thematic elements, but in terms of being a grand deconstruction of the “chosen one” genre, it couldn’t ever get better than carry on. and i’m so happy rainbow didn’t try to MAKE it that. she didn’t pull a supernatural and up the stakes to impossible, outlandish degrees. both wayward son and awtwb had realistic, fascinating plots that served as a metaphor for the internal struggles of the characters.

the reason i’m beginning this review by talking about the plot is because it’s what i’ve seen the most criticism directed towards. and like i DO get it, i also was taken aback at first at how the actual plot is kind of background noise for the first couple hundred pages. but like...i think it WORKS. again, this whole trilogy is a deconstruction. that’s its PURPOSE. obviously it’s doing other things as well, but it started by taking this well-worn and well-loved trope and completely turning it on its head, giving us permission to acknowledge all the damage it causes and how our love of this type of story is honestly kind of harmful. we turn off that part of our brains when we read harry potter or something else with traumatized child protagonists, in order for us to actually enjoy it, but the simon snow trilogy has always said, “hey, this is kind of fucked up, huh? you’re allowed to think that.”

anyway, the way that translates to the plot here is that there’s not always some huge mystical big bad, or obviously evil antagonist. the horror can be going on in the world around you, in the background of your day-to-day life dealing with your own shit, creeping up on you until suddenly your loved ones are spouting off nonsense that is an absolutely CHILLING allegory for eugenics, by the way, which i’ve seen NOBODY talk about. the clear political parallels were so well done, but not heavy-handed, and they worked wonderfully as an ending to this story. simon at the end being a target for an angry mob, who are victims of intense ableism themselves (the metaphor of being a weak mage = having a disability), how these religious extremists will point at what they deem abnormal and use them as a scapegoat, the disgusting “survival of the fittest” mentality leading to “i can make this society great again” - it was all just incredibly well written, in my opinion. and the fact that it happened so slowly, in the background, made it all the better. you don’t really notice how bad it’s getting until it’s BAD.

it also, again, works so well as a manifestation of the characters’ inner strife. others have put it better than me already, so i won’t talk about it too much, but the fact that the book is saying you don’t need to be like everyone else in order to accomplish great things and have a good life, you don't need to have magic, you don’t need to be human, you don’t need to be neurotypical or able-bodied or straight or white or ANYTHING these people will have you believe in order to make you obedient to them and hateful to others -- it’s fantastic. 

this kind of segues into the other big criticism i’m seeing, which is simon and baz’s one-day breakup. again, this has already been analyzed well, so i won't ramble about it, but wayward son was their breakup. metaphorically speaking. and i’m glad that it didn’t take some big, grand moment for them to get back together, even though it would have been narratively cathartic. that’s not how life works - it was so much better and realistic to have simon face the harsh difficulties of TRYING than dragging out a separation plot line that would have added NOTHING to his character. or baz’s. the only thing about their entire relationship that i would have done a bit differently is shorten the timeline, because a year and a half is a very long and honestly unrealistic time to go in a relationship without talking about sexual history or going on dates, even if there’s a lot of baggage. but that’s not that big a deal and i’m easily able to look past it.

(as a side note I'm getting annoyed at seeing all these takes that there’s too much sexual content. like i get it because the first two books are solidly YA and this is being marketed as YA even though it’s definitely NA, but like....sex is important. sex scenes and sexual content are an extremely important part of depicting the human experience. and lack of sex as well!! every single intimate scene between them was NOT super graphic and had such incredibly important significance narratively and character-wise - and yeah that includes any kinks that were brought up, like jesus they’re in their 20s and have been in a non-sexual relationship for a year and a half i think it’s pretty fucking relevant that there are intimate scenes!!! anyway moving on.)

i really loved penny and shepard’s plot - their relationship was so wonderful and charming and excellent for their characters, and i only wish we could have gotten their demon plot threaded into the larger picture, because after shepard was cured it felt like they were just standing there. that’s one of my very few complaints about the book. but they’re such good characters and i love them SO MUCH.

AND THANK GOD FOR AGATHA AND NIAMH. like i cannot put into words how fucking happy i was when i realized where that was headed. the cinematic nature of agatha and niamh helping the goat give birth while simon’s flying in the chapel and being targeted by a mob was just. so cool like i can’t even describe it it was so coooooool and then agatha and niamh KISSING and agatha found her PLACE and I'm so happy for her.

just in general the characters and relationships were fucking exquisite. i can’t help but love the way RR writes, especially her dialogue. it’s so real and three dimensional and her characters truly come alive and i care about them and love them so much. i’m so happy they’re happy, i wouldn’t have been able to stand it if they weren’t.

and everything got wrapped up so well in my opinion!! i don’t know what the hell people are talking about when they say they still have questions, like girl what about??? simon found his family, simon got a sword that isn’t tied to trauma, baz found out that he’ll get to grow old with simon, all their families are okay, penny and shepard are in love, agatha’s herding goats and a lesbian, there will probably be new threats and antagonists but they'll be able to handle them, life will continue to be difficult but they’ll get through it like WHAT do you not understand what’s not clicking i genuinely want to know. 

ok actually i have ONE single question and that’s. did baz pick up the sword at the end. because the way it’s written it sounds like he did and i like do not understand that at all. someone answer please.

anyway that’s my review 10/10 would recommend

#any way the wind blows #awtwb spoilers #simon snow #snowbaz #carry on

[pirate-au]

A Pirate's Life for a Prince (Part 6)

Summary: Roman was a dashing Captain, content with his exciting life out at sea, diving head first into adventure both on and off land. He wouldn't give up his life for anything, and yet he found himself...lacking something. He was never sure what.

When he meets Virgil, a seemingly common traveler in an old tavern, that lacking feeling in his chest goes away for the first time in a long while. So surely there's no harm in offering the stranger and his friend a ride, right?

Notes: Thank you again to @cheshirevalentine for helping with editing and the descriptions of sword fighting, They've got a side blog for this au, go check out @actorau

TW: a little blood and injury and really gay pining

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Virgil had no idea what he was supposed to be doing.

Roman was frowning at him, watching Virgil with scrutinizing eyes before sheathing his own sword at his side.

“Have you never held a sword before?” he asked, his hands on his hips. “It’s like you’re afraid of it.”

Virgil huffed, lowering the sword that was steadily becoming embarrassingly heavy to his side, cheeks burning red with shame under Roman's judgment. “I don’t know what you think I was doing in that palace, but it wasn’t sword fighting.”

“But I thought you were raised as a prince.”

Virgil had asked before, once or twice when he was much younger, but it had been shut down almost immediately, and the request had never even made it to his Uncle. He would never be the dashing Prince who charged into battle, brandishing a sword like it was nothing. That wasn’t the kind of prince they wanted him to be.

“Whatever.” Virgil would really rather not discuss this right now, especially not here. “Why are we even doing this?”

“Because you have to learn to defend yourself,” Roman said simply, moving around Virgil to check his stance. “I won’t always be here to save the day, you know. Now, lift your sword again. I’ll fix your hold.”

Roman was behind him, making Virgil’s shoulders tense instinctively, but he forced himself to relax and do what he was told.

“Come on,” Roman urged as Virgil lifted the sword. “I promise this will help you feel more secure.”

Virgil rolled his eyes when Roman moved back around, mostly to cover up how uneasy and inadequate he felt. He wasn't exactly excited to show off how weak he was to a pirate Captain who had already seen him cry twice.

“Running away has worked out pretty well so far,” Virgil said, but kept the sword lifted all the same. “I’m not gonna be any good at this.”

“You don't know that," Roman said quietly, moving beside Virgil. He moved to help him hold the sword and hesitated, awkwardly maneuvering his hands as if he wasn't sure how to place them around Virgil's. “Uh… my apologies. Is it alright if I touch you?”

Virgil only hesitated a second, forcibly shoving down the panic rising against his will. It was just Roman, and Roman had made it clear that he wouldn’t hurt him. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Alright then.” Roman moved slowly, clearly trying not to spook Virgil, placing himself behind the prince once again and gently wrapping his warm hands around Virgil’s own. The weight of the sword lifted considerably with his help. “The way I was taught was rather… untraditional. It’s easier to teach like this.”

Virgil nodded, trying to focus on keeping his breathing steady. “So… where did you learn to sword fight?”

“My brother and I learned a long time ago,” Roman said, curt in the way that told Virgil the Captain would prefer to discuss anything else. “Anyways. I’ll teach you to block and parry first.”

Virgil wanted to apologize for prying, but it was already hard enough to form words with the feeling of Roman’s hands encasing his own, his chest rising and falling against Virgil’s back. He had the sudden, ridiculous urge to close his eyes and lean back against the steady warmth.

“Uh, ok,” he said instead, forcing himself to focus. “Just… be patient with me I guess. I’m kind of a slow learner, so… sorry in advance.”

“Nonsense,” the Captain chided. “You’ll do fine.”

Virgil nodded, his breathing still a bit uneven as he let Roman move his hands to the Prince’s wrists. He guided his arms, first to slowly swing up to block at his left shoulder, and then down.

"When you block, you want to make sure your assailant isn't pushing you back,” he said. “On a ship, that could be the difference between being cast overboard or staying dry." He dropped a hand to pat Virgil's left hip. "It's best to step forward after that, preferably with your non-dominant leg. It will give you a stable base to attack on, so make sure your weight is centered."

Virgil was doing his absolute best to listen to what Roman was saying, but to be fair he was pretty sure he was going to suck at this whether he could comprehend the instructions or not.

But Roman was still holding his hand, warm and strong, and when the Captain moved to touch his hip Virgil could only respond with a slightly panicked, "Okay."

“To attack,” Roman continued, his voice a gentle murmur in Virgil’s ear. “Take another step with your other leg and swing forward-” He stepped with Virgil, guiding their arms to swing at their invisible assailant. "Your sword is an extension of your arm. You don't want to overextend and throw yourself off balance, that will give your opponent a chance to swing at you. Now, back-” He stepped back, gently pulling Virgil with him. "Block, forward, attack, back."

Virgil couldn’t breathe, something he was unfortunately used to, but for once it didn’t feel like a bad thing.

The panic wasn't all consuming and cold, it was warm and it made him feel lightheaded and distant. Roman was up against him, guiding his movements, and although he knew he probably looked absolutely pathetic holding the sword, in the moment it felt like he could do anything.

Other than Patton, no one had ever been so gentle with him. It had been so long since he’d been touched without the intention to hurt.

“Once more,” Roman instructed. “Block, forward, attack, back. Look at you! You’re doing amazing already.”

Virgil’s face grew hot, chest light at the praise. It took him a moment to find his voice, choked and unsteady. “I… thank you.”

“Now we pick up the pace,” Roman said, slowly starting to increase their speed. “You’re doing so well. Just a bit faster now and then I’ll let you try it on your own.”

After a moment of the back and forth, the two almost dancing in the afternoon sun, Virgil closed his eyes for just a second, basking in the warm glow, the feeling of Roman’s hands over his, content and safe.

“Now,” Roman said softly. “Can you show me?”

Virgil’s eyes snapped open, reality slamming back into him as Roman stepped away and the sword momentarily wobbled in the air, the Prince struggling to keep it upright by himself.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He hesitated, face burning for an entirely new reason this time. God, he was so stupid. He could vaguely recall the movements, but… he'd just end up looking like an idiot if he tried it by himself. "Sorry, uh… could you let me watch you first? Sorry I'm just… kind of slow sometimes."

“You’re not slow,” Roman assured, sending Virgil a patient smile. “Some people are visual learners, it's only a matter of preference. I'm a kinesthetic learner, so I have to do it, rather than see it."

Virgil shrugged, still not fully convinced he wasn’t just stupid. “I guess.”

Roman unsheathed his own practice sword and lifted it, turning so he was parallel to where Virgil was standing, and began the back and forth.

“Block, forward, attack, back,” he said, repeating the motions twice, faster the second time. "Ideally, a fight isn't so tense and scripted. You have to learn to think on your feet. And always, always play dirty. A fair fight is sure to get you killed." He lowered his sword, facing Virgil with a smile. "Ready?"

Slightly stunned by how patient Roman was, Virgil nodded and took a shaky breath. The Captain’s patience was bound to run out soon if he didn’t hurry up and get this right.

“I’m ready.”

He began to copy Roman’s movements- block, forward, attack, back. He knew it looked clumsy and ridiculous, and not even close to what Roman was expecting. The sword still felt heavy and foreign in his hands, and he turned sheepishly to the Captain when he was finished, fully prepared to apologize for doing so poorly.

But Roman was smiling at him, wide and genuine. He sheathed his own sword again, placing his hands on his hips.

“You learn quickly!” he praised. “This particular style requires a lot of physical conditioning. Your abdomen, back, wrists, and hands all need conditioning if you're to properly hold your sword. Though, I'm sure we have a rapier around here somewhere that may better suit you."

Virgil furrowed his brow. “A rapier?”

“Something smaller,” Roman explained, eyes softening. “It might be a bit easier for you. Logan prefers lighter weapons, as well.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, arms already growing sore from the strain of the sword. “Maybe.”

“We’ll save that for later,” Roman said. “For now, I need you to take the rhythm you just learned, and I need you to forget it. Falling into a rhythm can mean spacing out, and without the utmost concentration, you're dead. Now! Make like you're going to attack me.”

Roman didn’t move, didn't even unsheathe his sword, and Virgil frowned when he just stood there, waiting expectantly.

“Uh… okay?” He cautiously positioned the sword again and pointed it at Roman, the Captain still unarmed. “Like this?”

Roman nodded, looking Virgil over carefully. "Widen your stance. For you… I think it's best to stave on the balls of your feet. I believe I've been teaching you how I was taught, and since our body types are so different..."

He trailed off, smiling dropping into a small frown, eyebrows drawn together as he studied Virgil’s stance.

"Don't focus so hard on grounding yourself,” Roman instructed. He finally took his blade out with a flourish, spinning it once before he widened his stance, holding his sword at the ready. "Attack me.”

“I- what?” Virgil wasn’t sure if he was more worried about hurting Roman, or Roman hurting him. The latter seemed more likely. “I’m not gonna… I can’t just start stabbing at you!”

“You can,” Roman declared, shifting eagerly on the balls of his feet. “That’s how you learn. I won’t bite, I promise. Now, attack me! If you hesitate in battle, your foe won’t hesitate to take your life.”

“I guess,” Virgil relented. “Okay.”

He pushed down the lingering uneasiness, both from the sight of a much larger man holding a sword in front of him, and the off chance that he might actually end up hurting the Captain. Virgil moved forward, still hesitant, moving to attack slowly with no real intent to hit.

Roman was silent and still, holding his sword at the ready. He stepped forward to intercept Virgil's blade, twisting his own to knock the handle out of Virgil's grip. His sword clattered to the ground between them and Roman took a step back.

“You can do better,” the Captain said. “We both saw it. Again.”

Virgil reached down to pick up the weapon off the ground, keeping his eyes on Roman and the weapon in his hand. "What if I… accidentally stab you?"

“I’ve been stabbed before,” Roman said, clearly biting back a rising smile. “And you’re a fragile ex-prince who’s never held a sword before. I’m not worried.”

Virgil scowled, hoping his embarrassed flush wasn't as obvious as it felt. He still hesitated, this time with a bit more force. “Well, if you’ve gotten stabbed clearly you can’t be that good.”

“Right, and clearly you’re so talented.” Roman parried this time, stepping forward to smack the blade back. “Again. Harder, this time. You’re not going to hurt me, Virgil.”

"What if I do?" Virgil shot back, unable to stop a smile as he attacked again, still keeping his movements a bit slow. "What will people say if you get stabbed by someone who’s never even held a sword?"

"That I was viciously attacked by a vengeful Prince and did nothing wrong," Roman huffed, smacking the blade away once more. "Faster. I can keep up."

"You sure?" Virgil asked, more teasing than anything as he finally let himself relax just a bit, moving forward to attack once again.

“Move faster and we’ll see.”

The friendly banter took some of the tension away, Virgil smiling despite himself, feeling lighter by the second.

Virgil's movements were still definitely a bit more frantic than they needed to be, shoulders tensing as he moved his sword up, glancing hopefully up at Roman when he blocked the attack.

“Good!” Roman said, beaming. “Try not to panic, it’ll make you lose focus. Try again.”

Right. Try not to panic. That was easier said than done, especially when it came to Virgil, who could never seem to react any other way.

But the praise made him feel lighter than ever, and he smiled with a tiny nod before stepping back to try again.

“You’re doing good. Keep it up, don’t stop-” Roman parried and returned the next blow. “Pick up the speed. Push me back!”

Virgil managed to keep his movements a little less panicked this time, taking deep breaths like Patton had taught him and moved to attack again, faster this time as instructed.

"You sure you can keep up, Captain?" he teased with confidence he didn't feel in the slightest, smiling with his eyes still on the swords.

To his relief Roman’s smile only grew, the Captain taking another step forward to block again. “Eyes on me. Watch the weapons, but if you can see where I'm looking you can see where I'm attacking."

Virgil managed not to completely freak out when he blocked Roman’s next attack, still a bit more tense than he knew the Captain would have liked.

It was almost impossible to keep his eyes on Roman, cheeks growing hot whenever the Captain met his eyes, forcing himself to avert his gaze.

Virgil really did not need to be distracted by the blush spreading across his cheeks and the butterflies in his stomach as he moved to attack again.

Roman laughed, Virgil’s eyes lighting up when he nearly lowered his sword before he could block Virgil’s attack. “Come on handsome, eyes up here.”

“I’m trying!”

Roman took another step forward, swiping down towards Virgil’s leg. “When you can’t block, move!”

Virgil just barely managed to scramble out of the blade's way, and he was sure if Roman had moved any faster he would have lost a leg.

“Jesus!” His face was burning red now, both from the teasing and his own sloppy moves. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Roman's grin only grew as he took a step back, spinning his sword. "No, I'm trying to prepare you. Distractions happen. Now come on beautiful, one more time."

Oh, this was so not fair. Virgil’s blush depended, but he forced himself not to look away this time when he attacked. “Careful, or I’m actually going to stab you.”

“I’ve got the experience, darling,” Roman bragged, though he barely got his sword up in time to block Virgil’s strike. “You can’t hurt me.”

Virgil laughed, ignoring the way his cheeks burned at the nickname. He was going to die here. “Whatever you say, Captain.”

Virgil had no idea how long they went on like this for, time nothing but a distant blur, overshadowed by the warm excitement bubbling in his chest. His cheeks burned bright when he eventually managed to start meeting Roman’s eyes, the Captain sending him a teasing smile.

He should have noticed Roman had gotten distracted, should have realized he’d started moving just a bit slower than he had been when they first started.

But he didn’t, and Roman’s sword didn’t move up to block Virgil's next attack.

Roman gasped when the blade cut into his bicep, ripping through the cloth and drawing blood immediately, and the Captain quickly smacked the blade away with the end of his own sword.

"Holy shit!" Virgil dropped the sword without thinking, wincing when it clattered to the ground. He moved towards Roman, stopping in his tracks when he saw how much blood there was. "I… shit, Roman I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, I- I wasn't paying attention I'm so sorry!"

Roman looked back up at Virgil, raising an eyebrow at the Prince’s panic.

“I stand corrected,” he said, voice more awed than annoyed or angry. “It turns out you can stab me. Well done.”

“Well done?” Virgil echoed. “I hurt you!”

“It’s fine, Virgil. I’m barely bleeding. I wasn’t paying attention, this is just the consequence.” He looked back to his wound, lifting his arm to inspect it. “Would you mind grabbing Logan for me, though? He should be up on the bridge.”

Virgil nodded and scrambled back, carefully stepping over the swords, grateful for the excuse to get away. It at least meant Roman wasn't angry enough to lash out.

Unless that was Logan's job.

Virgil’s head was spinning and his hands were shaking, but he forced himself to keep going, rushing to the bridge.

The relief was almost crushing when he saw Patton, leaned up against the wall as he chatted with Logan, the two of them lost in quiet conversation. Virgil hadn’t been sure he could handle being alone with Logan, especially when it ran the risk of making him angry.

“Virgil?” Patton called, concern rising as soon as he saw the young Prince. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“I…” Virgil hesitated, eyes glued to Logan. “Roman he- he got hurt. With his sword, it… it was my fault and- and he asked for you. I’m… I’m sorry, I—”

Logan was already starting forward with a sigh, freezing when Virgil flinched back at the sudden movement, arms wrapped protectively around himself, eyes flying instinctively to Patton.

“I’m going to go check on Roman,” Logan explained, keeping his voice low. “I’m not angry with you. Whatever happened was clearly an accident.”

Virgil nodded, still a bit frantic and shaky, stepping aside to let Logan through. Patton moved to follow, pausing to place a gentle hand on Virgil’s hunched shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, the words meant just for the two of them. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Virgil shook his head, grateful beyond words Patton had decided to stay. “I’m fine I just… I- I didn’t mean to hurt him we were just—”

“I know, honey.” Pat squeezed his shoulder, sending a reassuring smile. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you, V. Come on, let’s go see if they need any help.”

They followed Logan back to the deck where Roman was waiting, letting the first mate make a quick stop for a first-aid kit, and Virgil averted his gaze when Roman straightened up at their arrival.

“My valiant knight in black armor,” the Captain greeted, offering his bloody arm to Logan. “Hello, Logan. How has your day been?”

Logan sighed, carefully taking a hold of the injured arm and lowering himself to a crouch. “What on earth are you and Virgil doing?”

“I was teaching Virgil how to use a sword!” Roman announced, and he was beaming when Virgil risked a glance up. “Isn’t he doing great already? I didn’t think he could hit me at all, but here we are!”

Roman rocked back and forth as he talked, gesturing with his free hand, and Logan tightened his grip. “Stay still, please.”

It was clearly a pointless venture, Virgil hadn’t seen Roman sit still once since he’d come aboard, but the Captain nodded and settled for tapping his hands against the floor. He winced when Logan touched the wound but didn't shy away, letting a hissing breath of pain out.

“He’s doing great,” Roman declared again, leaning back slightly to look at Virgil. “You are, you know. This is good progress.”

Virgil tensed, warily glancing between Roman and Logan despite the fact that neither of them seemed inclined to chew him out or make a move to strike him just yet. “I stabbed you. I literally stabbed you!”

“You did!” Roman said, ecstatic. “That’s the whole point! You did it, you got me! And I’m barely even hurt, don’t worry about it.”

Logan sighed again, reaching with his free hand for the rest of the medical supplies as Roman's blood began to soak through the first rag. Virgil looked away, even as he blushed under Roman's praise.

"But I… you’re not mad?”

“Not at all,” Roman assured. “I told you to attack me, didn't I? Sometimes people get hurt when you spar, this was a learning opportunity!" He paused, glancing down at Logan. “I’m bleeding quite a lot, aren’t I? Should I be worried about that?”

“You will be fine,” Logan said, not looking up. “The cut is shallow. Virgil did not land a fatal blow, though I can imagine the temptation was there.”

It startled a laugh out of Virgil, and Roman gave an offended gasp. “He would never! He’s a very good friend, much more so than someone I know.”

“Stay still.”

Roman scowled at his first mate, then winced in pain as he continued to tend to the wound. “It really is okay, Virgil. I’ve been stabbed worse by far more terrible foes, I promise.”

“You seem to have a habit of getting stabbed,” Virgil said, voice still a bit shaky. He relaxed a little when Patton put a hand on his shoulder. “And here I thought you were a master.”

“Even masters occasionally get stabbed. This is nothing,” Roman boasted. “Do I need stitches, Lo? That part does hurt, and I’d recommend not watching if you don’t have a thick stomach.”

Virgil did feel a bit sick at the thought, though it was more the idea of the Captain being in pain because of him than the stitches. The blood didn't bother him all that much- he'd had to get Patton to patch him up like this plenty of times in the past.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I can stay if you need someone to hold your hand.”

It had been a joke, nothing more than teasing, and Virgil absolutely was not half hoping Roman would take him up on the offer.

But Roman grinned, something mischievous in his eyes. He lifted his free hand and wiggled his fingers at Virgil. “Well then you’d better come comfort me, Prince Dreary.”

Virgil was going to kill him. His face flushed again, cheeks on fire. He had no idea how Roman kept managing to fluster him like this, but he wasn’t about to give the Captain the satisfaction of seeing it.

He rolled his eyes as he stepped forward, effortlessly slipping his hand into Roman’s and smirking. “Better?”

“Much,” Roman hummed, and Virgil saw Logan roll his eyes. The Captain just smiled, his thumb stroking gentle lines along the back of Virgil’s hand. “Your hands are very small, you know. Soft, though.”

It was quiet musing, gentle and kind, but Virgil's chest squeezed painfully, suddenly very aware of how much smaller he was than the other three men on the deck, shame and anxiety rising to his throat.

“Yeah okay,” he muttered, gaze dropping back down to the floor. “Maybe your hands are just huge, Roman.”

“I’m not complaining,” Roman said, but his smile softened like he had picked up on Virgil’s discomfort. “They’re soft. Cold as hell, but that’s only fitting for Peter Deadpan, I suppose.”

Virgil scoffed, but his face felt warm, and his smile was quickly becoming more relaxed again. “Well, I didn’t grow up playing with swords like you did. Royal life is kinda boring compared to the life of a pirate.”

“I don’t know,” Roman mused, and he shared an odd look with his first mate. “Royal life can be exciting too. It’s just… a different kind of excitement.”

Logan snorted, peeling the blood soaked cloth away from dark skin. “You would know.”

Roman winced, squeezing Virgil’s hand. “That was years ago, Logan. It’s possible it’s gotten more exciting since then.”

“I’m sure.”

Wait, what?

Virgil didn’t get a chance to ask the questions on the tip of his tongue before Roman huffed, tilting his head to inspect what was left of the wound. “Are you almost done, oh gracious healer?”

“You don’t need stitches, Captain,” Logan said, unamused. “But you’re more than welcome to keep holding the Prince’s hand if you’d like.”

Roman just glared, clearly biting back a smile as Logan gathered up bandages from his first aid kit, still keeping a firm hold on Roman’s arm.

Virgil squeezed Roman’s hand without thinking, scrambling for the right words. “You… you were a royal?”

“A long time ago, yes.” Roman’s smile faded, his thumb going back to tracing soothing lines on Virgil’s hand before he could feel guilty for opening his mouth. “Far from here, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t know of me.”

“What kingdom?”

“Lucoria,” Roman said softly. “It’s due East, months away. We’re far from it.”

Virgil nodded, fighting not to lose himself to the flood of memories as he thought back to the history practically forced down his throat since he was a child. He’d heard of Lucoria, could vaguely recall rumors and stories, but history had never really been his strong suit. He’d never really been interested in the past, anyway.

But he could see the tension Roman was failing to hide, and he quickly squeezed the Captain’s hand once more, offering what he hoped was a gentle smile

“I’m glad you got out,” Virgil said, eyes glued to Roman, unable to look away. “It doesn’t seem like you’d enjoy that life.”

Roman returned Virgil's smile easily, tilting his head. "Like I said, it’s a lot more free. It wasn’t… all my choice, but once you're out there's no way you can go back. Leaving was the best thing I could have done."

“Well… thank you,” Virgil said quietly, the rest of the world melting away for just a moment. “For letting me leave too.”

Roman’s eyes widened and his cheeks flushed, and for the first time since Virgil had met him, Roman was completely still. “Anything for you.”

For what felt like an eternity neither of them moved, everything almost magically quiet. And then Roman hissed in pain, whirling around and yanking on his injured arm, shattering the moment.

“Ow, you—”

“There you are, Captain,” Logan announced, ignoring Roman’s outburst and cutting the rest of the bandage. “Try to be more careful next time.”

Roman winced and pulled his arm away from Logan, scowling. Virgil glanced at Patton, the older man watching them all carefully, expression worried but guarded.

“Yes, yes,” Roman said, the Captain practically pouting. “We’ll be more careful.”

Virgil hesitated to let go of Roman’s hand, eyes now on his freshly bandaged arm. “I’m sorry, again. For hurting you.”

“It’s okay,” Roman assured. “Though, I do think it’s best that we stop for the day. But we can pick this up anytime.”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. Today had entailed more physical activity than he’d ever had in his life, his ribs and chest starting to ache now that the adrenaline was starting to fade. “Sounds good, Captain.”

Logan practically had to drag Roman away, guiding the Captain back to the bridge while Patton gently took Virgil by the shoulder and steered them both back to their quarters.

Virgil went willingly, leaning into Patton’s familiar touch, but it took a while for the pleasant warmth to disappear from Virgil’s cheeks.

And if he couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot for the rest of the afternoon, Patton was gracious enough not to point it out.

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