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talesofesther · 4 months

Text

discover the beauty

Sylvie x Reader

Summary: Sylvie doesn't quite understand what you make her feel, or what she should do about it. All she knows is that you've brought a warmth to her life that had been long lost. So when you ask her to spend Christmas with you, how could she ever say no?

A/N: This is, or was supposed to be, a quick and sweet lil story with my favorite lady to give her the Christmas she deserves. Naturally, I got a little (a lot) carried away. I also feel like my writing turned out rather different in this, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. <3

Word count: 6k

Masterlist

You were not something she expected to have. Sylvie may even go as far as saying you were not something she wanted to have. Not in the beginning, at least.

It was a normal day at work the first time she saw you. During a late afternoon, with golden rays of a setting sun seeping through the windows of McDonald's. You walked in with a backpack hanging from one shoulder and the ghost of a smile on your lips. You ordered a burger and fries accompanied by an orange juice, a combination Sylvie didn't serve too often. You thanked her with an even wider smile and sat on one of the tables closest to the window. You finished eating and didn't leave, instead, you pulled a sketchbook from your backpack and started scribbling something down. All the while that you stayed, Sylvie could feel your eyes on her from time to time.

A routine started then. You'd come by almost every day, at the same time, make the same order, sit at the same table, and pull out the same sketchbook. And it went on for weeks.

There was something about you that Sylvie couldn't put her finger on, something that stole her focus and forced her to recount the change at least twice when you were around. Your presence carried an aura of calmness, being around you was easy, and talking to you felt like breathing.

Slowly, order by order, you and Sylvie grew closer. Slowly, Sylvie started to expect your presence at the end of each day.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Today was a Thursday, a day you usually stopped by. When the clock on the wall hit 4 PM, Sylvie found herself stealing glances at the main doors. Sometimes she'd chastise herself for the childish behavior, after all, why should she care if you stop by or not?

A cold breeze came in through the open windows. Sylvie leaned on the counter beside the cash register, looking out onto the parking lot; it was covered in a thin layer of white. The snow had slowly and thinly started falling just a few days ago, announcing the definitive arrival of winter and the ever-approaching festivities of the end of the year—as did the obnoxious Christmas decorations scattered all around the inside of the fast food place.

She had heard her colleagues here talking about it, Christmas, and from what Sylvie gathered it was a time for celebration and gifts, a time to spend with loved ones. When the matter came up in conversation, Sylvie hid in the corners, making herself look busy and distracted with anything she could think of. She didn't want to answer the casual questions of where she'd be spending her Christmas at, who she'd be spending it with. She didn't want to admit she had no one at all and would likely spend the night at a bar, alone.

The sound of the door being pushed open brought Sylvie back to reality, she looked up only to see you walking in, with your backpack on one shoulder and bundled up in a hoodie with a jacket on top to chase away the cold.

It was new to her, the fluttering in her stomach whenever she saw you and the warmth on her cheeks whenever you smiled at her. Everything was new. Sylvie didn't know what to do with the feelings you brought to her. It's not like she had many of those when jumping through apocalypses.

Your eyes met hers and your smile was instant, you adjusted your hold on your backpack as you approached the counter. Your greeting came in the form of a question; "Why is it that good things always have to hurt a little?"

Sylvie raised an eyebrow at you, an amused smile of her own fighting its way to her lips. Her fingernails tapped the counter softly. There were small flakes of snow hanging onto your hair, your clothes, glittering under the artificial lights; why did they make you look prettier still?

"The snow," You nodded toward the big windows behind you, "So beautiful yet so unforgivingly cold, isn't it?"

A low hum went past Sylvie's lips, she shrugged with a teasing smirk. "I don't know, I don't think it's that cold."

You huffed, already familiar with the statement yet baffled all the same, "That's because you're a special case I'm still trying to figure out."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her voice just a tad lower, "Good luck with that."

You avoided her eyes and nodded softly, smile lingering on your features. You leaned your elbows on the counter then, hands coming to stay just inches away from Sylvie's. She wondered what it would feel like to touch you.

Sylvie cleared her throat, promptly chasing away the thought. She grabbed her notepad and pen, her customer service voice making an appearance; "The usual?"

"Uh yeah," you sounded just a tad disappointed. As Sylvie wrote down your order, you leaned just a bit forward and closer to her, pursing your lips before saying; "So, any plans for Christmas?"

The pen in Sylvie's hand gave a sudden and rather forceful scratch, nearly tearing the paper. She halted, intently glaring at the out-of-place line that was now written on top of the word 'fries'. She held the silence for a moment longer, her jaw set tightly in place. For the first time in a long time, she hesitated. "… No."

A soft frown came to your features. You didn't ask, but the question was there.

"I'll probably just sleep in," Sylvie glanced up at you with her lips pressed together in a smile that looked a little too forced. She didn't give you time to answer. "Your order will be ready in a minute." She informed you, before turning around to fiddle with the ice cream machine she had already organized this morning.

Two minutes later, your order was ready. You mumbled a gentle 'thank you' to Sylvie before making a beeline to your usual table near the windows.

It was a little pathetic, really—you thought to yourself as you munched your burger—how quickly you became infatuated with the pretty attendant from your local McDonald's. Sylvie had captured your attention since the first day you walked in and said your order to her. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. But there was something else there, something about her eyes and the way she carried herself and interacted with others, that gave away the impression that she had lived a thousand lives, seen a thousand worlds, and now carried the weight of it.

Sylvie was, what you liked to call, an artist's utopia. The perfect muse. Everything about her was screaming to be written down in novels and painted to be hung in a museum. Her genuine smiles whenever she delivered a random order as well as the closed-off and tense ones whenever her colleagues crowded her. The prideful way she'd glance at her name plastered on the employee of the month display as well as the melancholic look in her eyes when she climbed in her truck at the end of the day. Each part of her seemed to tell a story bigger than anything you could fathom.

And that, was simply something you couldn't bring yourself to ignore. It started as a mere sketch of her serious expression on the first day you noticed her. And then you came back, once, twice. And it evolved into her being the biggest constant in your sketchbook. There were scribbles of her profile, her back, sometimes just her eyes or hands, smiles and frowns. Each piece of her as seen by your eyes, now eternal, shaped by the grey lines of your pencil.

Whatever could you do, after all? She was enchanting.

In the end, it was expected that she would become quite familiar with you, given how much you stop by. But you were pleasantly surprised to realize that you two clicked rather well. You'd go as far as calling her a friend now.

And today, you noticed the hints of sorrow that always danced in her expressive eyes making a more vivid appearance. Maybe that's the reason why you threw caution to the wind.

When you finished your meal, you picked up your backpack and promptly walked towards the counter Sylvie stood behind. Deciding that if you waited, your courage would most likely vanish.

She perked up when she noticed you coming towards her, a mix of confusion and expectancy painting her features. Her posture straightened as she reached for the notepad, expecting another order.

You cleared your throat, unable to properly meet her gaze and choosing to fiddle with the pen lying around in front of her. "You know, my family lives a few hours from here and I don't plan on driving there this year." Glancing up at Sylvie, you had to hold back a smile at the sight of her adorable frown. "So, I was thinking… Maybe, if- if you want," you held her gaze, words heavy on your tongue, "We could spend Christmas together." It came out more like a question than anything else. You bit the inside of your cheek, and waited.

Sylvie breathed in sharply, her shoulders tensing. Her eyes shifted from one side to the other, as if looking for an answer around the vicinity. For excruciatingly long seconds, she said nothing. And you were already thinking of a half-assed excuse to give her an out when she finally spoke.

"Okay." You'd never heard her voice this small. "I'd like that," she smiled then, it was a sweet, little thing, barely a stretch of lips; but it warmed your heart like nothing else could.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The day before Christmas arrived both too soon and too late. Sylvie woke up this morning and her first thought of the day, as she still lay in bed, was you. And how she would be meeting you at McDonald's just like every day before, but today there was a break in the pattern; she would be leaving with you. Together.

Sylvie had reluctantly agreed to spend the night at your place when you insisted Christmas morning was the most special and crucial part of the holiday. Yet now, as the day finally was upon her, she began to wonder if she'd dug her own grave. Because her stomach twisted with the mere thought of it, her body felt all warm and fuzzy knowing she'd be spending so much time by your side, and her heartbeat skyrocketed knowing she'd be waking up the next morning only for you to be the first one she sees.

As Sylvie drove to work, she couldn't help but admit that this whole Christmas thing gave the town a rather pleasant look. Several decorations in bright red, golden, and green could be spotted in every corner of the town; string lights were a must in most buildings and houses; and inside each store at least one small Christmas tree was present.

While stopped at a red light, Sylvie's mind wandered to one specific aspect of the tradition. Gift giving.

Should she get you a gift? Did she want to?

She had never given or received any gifts. She wasn't sure if the two of you were close enough for it to be acceptable.

She gulped, grip tightening on the steering wheel. Her gaze roamed around the stores nearby and people walking on the snowy sidewalks. Just in case.

And a little further down the street, in a small corner beside a bakery, Sylvie spotted a retail store.

It wouldn't hurt to take a look, she decided.

The selection of items inside the store was… less than pleasing. They weren't bad in on themselves, but as Sylvie browsed the racks of hoodies and sweatpants and t-shirts, she felt that nothing seemed right. In her eyes, nothing particularly suited you and nothing was good enough.

A sigh went past Sylvie's lips as she ran a hand through her hair, messing it up more than it already was. She felt lost, out of place in her own skin. The few people around her were minding their own business, eyes fixed on the clothes they were after. Yet she couldn't help but think they were watching her.

She didn't know how to do this. Any of it. She didn't know what it was that you made her feel; she didn't know how to act around you without looking like this was her first shot at a normal life; she didn't know how to buy a damn gift for you.

Her mind started spiraling and she second-guessed her decision to ever say yes to all of this.

Sylvie was about to bolt out of the store and come up with some excuse about not being able to join you, when her eyes caught sight of a green and golden scarf. It was hung by itself and looked rather out of place amidst the t-shirts beside it.

Sylvie made a beeline for it, instantly reaching out to run her fingers through the soft fabric. It was comfortable to the touch, dark green wool woven with specks of details in gold; carefully made, not a string in the wrong place.

Carefully, Sylvie took it fully in her hands. This is it, she decided with a faint smile. This is perfect. You were always complaining about being cold, after all.

She walked up to the cashier with a newfound confidence, holding tight onto the precious scarf. "It's a gift," she stated rather proudly, "How do I do this?"

The woman behind the counter looked less than pleased to be working on Christmas Eve, she raised an unamused eyebrow at Sylvie; "You want it wrapped?"

Sylvie hesitated for a beat, and then recalled the many customers she had served who held bags themed with reindeer, Santas, and the like, all carrying wrapped gifts inside. It seemed to be the appropriate decision. "Yes."

After her detour for gift shopping, the day went about as normal as it could. Sylvie got to work barely on time, parked her truck in her usual spot, served a few customers, and watched as thin snowflakes fell from the sky. It wasn't a busy day, only a few and far in between walked in to grab a lunch, and most of them took it in a to-go bag.

When the clock hit 4 PM, however, Sylvie grew restless. She would be leaving earlier today, and you would be stopping by any minute now.

"Ah, almost time to leave," Carla, one of Sylvie's colleagues and one of the few who'd also agreed to work at this time of year, sighed from her place on the other side of the counter.

"Yep," Sylvie mumbled, her eyes fixed on the parking lot outside.

"Can't wait to not come to work tomorrow," Carla chuckled, "Gonna be spending the day with my kids." She smiled to herself and turned to look at Sylvie properly; "You got any plans, Sylvie?"

The enchantress' instinct was to deflect the question with something else, but her lips hovered and she found herself being engulfed in a foreign emotion. "Yes," she breathed, "I do." The soft smile on her lips held more sentiment than she cared to admit.

A gush of wind washed over her then, making her hair flow. She looked towards the entrance and saw you standing between the open doors. A familiar smile crinkled the sides of your eyes and you raised a gloved hand in a timid wave.

"And she just arrived," Sylvie spoke, more to herself than to her colleague, words dripping with something akin to adoration. She took off her hat, picked up her checkered trenchcoat from the back, and bid Clara goodbye before walking up to you.

"Hey," you greeted her, burying your hands in the pockets of your jacket. Voice sweet as honey and cheeks pink from the cold. "You ready to go?"

It scared her, that you could so easily strip her of her defenses. Her muscle memory sometimes urged Sylvie to hold onto the handle of a sword that wasn't there. If only to feel some sense of security.

She gulped, wriggling the ends of her sleeves between her fingers. This warmth, these colors you'd unintentionally brought to her life—she never realized how much she craved it until you came along.

Maybe she doesn't need her defenses anymore.

"Yeah."

With that, Sylvie climbed into her truck and you followed, giving her the instructions that led to your house. The drive was comfortable, the weight of your presence beside her, surprisingly, didn't throw her off; on the contrary, it felt like you belonged there—talking about the upcoming snowstorm of tonight and pointing out the blinking lights you passed by.

Your home turned out to be exactly as Sylvie expected it to be. Two trees stood tall in front of the small house made of dark wood, several string lights were hung all over the porch, and there was a Santa plushie peering through the window. The inside was all warm and homey, each nook and cranny of your house exuded comfort and peace.

You took off your jacket, haphazardly throwing it over the couch, and kicked off your shoes. "Please, make yourself at home," you gestured around with a wide smile. "I'm gonna make some hot chocolate to warm up, would you like one?"

With her heart in her mouth, after a lifetime of living in cold, apocalyptic worlds, Sylvie allowed herself to be enveloped by the warmth. The blinking lights of the Christmas tree in your living room danced over her skin; in her wildest dreams, she'd dreamt of this. Tears prickled her eyes.

A gentle touch brushed her fingers, and Sylvie held her breath. She glanced down to see your fingers hesitantly hooking around hers. You'd noticed the crumbling walls around her—Sylvie didn't mind. Your touch raised goosebumps on her skin. She held you tighter, "I'd love one."

You led her to the kitchen, talking about the bathroom at the end of the hall and the guest bedroom she'd be staying at, only letting go of her hand when you had to start preparing the two mugs of hot chocolate. "I'm glad you agreed to come here," you spoke casually, keeping your back to Sylvie as you skimmed around the kitchen. "I was- I was afraid you'd think I was weird for asking."

Sylvie chuckled, bashful eyes looking down at her hands. Her heart wanted to jump from her chest. She bit her lip, wondering if it would be too foolish to admit what it meant. "I was glad you did," she confessed quietly, both to you and herself. "I'd be alone otherwise."

Your movements halted, and after a beat of silence, you glanced at her over your shoulder. "I would too."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Hours went by like minutes. Chocolate wraps and a half-empty bottle of wine were now discarded on your coffee table. Somewhere along the late hours of the night, you and Sylvie ended up bundled together on your couch under a blanket, sharing stories and laughing to your heart's content as if you'd known each other for years.

You'd lost count of how many embarrassing childhood memories you'd already spilled for her, all so you could hear that laugh of hers again and again. She was beautiful like that. With the warm glow of your fireplace highlighting her features, the shape of her smile, and the strands of her hair. You did your best to capture this exact image of her in your mind, so you could put it on paper later.

Sylvie lay on one side of the couch while you occupied the other, her legs were tangled with yours under the blanket. Maybe this wasn't just a mere infatuation, you mused to yourself, drinking in the spark of her eyes and the weight of her body on yours.

She leaned her head on the back of the couch, looking at you as her smile faded from a wide grin to a soft tilt of lips. She had the look of someone who just discovered something magical. You couldn't help but think you weren't too different.

Her very presence was like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. Her melodic voice was the last thing you heard before drifting off to a light slumber, dreaming of warm colors and bright eyes.

It was a ten, maybe fifteen-minute thing. One of those naps that catch you by surprise when you're engulfed in comfort.

You woke with the feeling of the couch moving beside you and then heard the sound of pages being carefully turned. The blanket still rested comfortably over your body and the fireplace still cracked with a low flame. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you came to only to be greeted with the sight of Sylvie sitting by your side, with your sketchbook in her hands.

You inhaled sharply and held the air in your lungs, bunching up the edges of your blanket in your hands. Suddenly wide awake. You could vaguely recall forgetting the book on top of the kitchen table this morning.

Her hands held the book almost reverently, delicate fingertips tracing the lines that shaped sketches of her. They were fairly endless and now that you watched as she turned the pages, you realized there were more than what you accounted for. The dark graphite on paper outlined her hair, her eyes, her lips; and Sylvie herself gazed down at the drawings with her lips parted and eyes glazed over.

You gulped, with any possible words stuck in your throat. Would she be mad? creeped out? Maybe never want to speak with you again?

You knew that she knew you were awake already, yet for long moments, Sylvie held the silence. Her lower lip twitched at each new image of her that she discovered in your book. It almost looked like she was holding her breath too.

Gripping tightly onto your book, Sylvie finally looked up at you again; "Did you… make these?" It was nothing but a breath, almost as if she was afraid of the answer.

You merely nodded, avoiding her eyes.

Sylvie breathed in, it sounded a lot like a sniffle. She pursed her lips, looking down at the book and then back at you. "Why?"

You cocked your head to the side, focusing past your thundering heart and on the soft curve of her eyebrows and the way her bright eyes reflected the orange flames of the fireplace—they glimmered, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say it was because there were tears there.

"I uh-" Your voice stumbled, and you cleared your throat to compose yourself. "You were… captivating ever since the first time I saw you. I thought that- that there was a lot of beauty and…" You bit your lip, hesitating. "And a lot of sadness, in you. And I just… wanted to capture it. I couldn't help it, I'm sorry."

A gentle smile came to Sylvie's lips, there were too many emotions swimming behind her eyes for you to put your finger on any of them. "You think I'm…" her words were quiet, private. Her fingers fiddled with one of the pages. "I'm beautiful?"

You opened your mouth to answer just as your gaze caught sight of the window that led to your porch. Outside, you could see the heavy snow falling from the sky. A soft gasp went past your lips, "The snowstorm is starting." You threw the blanket off your lap and ran to your door, haphazardly putting on your boots before yanking the door open and rushing outside.

The snowflakes clouded the dark horizon of the night, falling rapidly like summer rain and collecting on the streets in a white blanket. The lone lamposts cast a golden light on the increasing snowfall, if you pretended enough, it almost looked like specks of magic. The snow had always fascinated you. Despite the chilling cold it brought, you always waited eagerly for the first real snowfall of the year.

You stood in the open space of your yard, looking up at the sky and watching as cold stars fell upon your skin and clung to your clothes.

Slow footsteps that crunched the snow captured your attention. You turned around and saw Sylvie joining you, her eyes were wide in amazement as she watched the white flakes cascading down from the sky. She raised a hand to try and catch the snow, carefully so, as if the natural phenomenon could scare easily.

The snow kissed her pink cheeks and landed on her gently outstretched hand, it surrounded her as if it chose to fall tonight only so her eyes could witness, touching her with delicacy, all intimate and tender as some of the flakes melted on her. You were envious of their privilege. A breathless chuckle escaped Sylvie, and her gaze turned to you. There was a near child-like excitement glinting in her pupils and it was enchanting.

You watched as the faded light of the street lamps outlined her body, as the snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and brought a smile to her lips. The world around you blurred at the edges; there was only her and the snow. "Beautiful," you simply breathed, not an ounce of doubt in your words.

Sylvie blinked multiple times, her smile fading yet the shine in her eyes increasing tenfold. The air was suddenly charged with electricity, warm under the cold weather. Sylvie's lips parted, and you thought you saw her glancing down at your lips.

You chanced a step closer, and then another, running your tongue over your bottom lip. One of your hands brushed hers, while the other came up to tuck strands of blonde hair behind her ear.

Sylvie gripped your hand as soon as she felt your touch, as if you could disappear with the snow at any second.

"More than beautiful." The increasing wind nearly carried your voice away. You traced the outline of Sylvie's jaw with your thumb, the same one you'd traced with your pencil countless times before. "I don't think I could ever tire of drawing you."

There was no time for you to react before Sylvie took hold of your cheeks with both hands and pulled you in. Her lips crashed with yours with an unexpected delicacy. She came closer until her bare feet stood between your boots and her chest was flush with yours, as if no amount of closeness was close enough.

Her kiss was tentative and almost shy in a way, the softest lips moving in tandem with yours like they belonged together. You gripped her waist, onto the fabric of her plaid pajama shirt that you thought looked oh so adorable on her as soon as you saw her change into it.

With your eyes closed, all you could feel were Sylvie's warm touch and gasps that you kissed away, a striking contrast to the cold snowflakes falling onto your skin and melting between each stolen kiss. You wouldn't have it any other way.

Sylvie's fingers buried in the hair at the nape of your neck, she pulled away only a fraction of a second, bumping her nose with yours to fill her lungs with only the amount of air enough to get her lips back on yours. Surrendering herself to the moment, to you.

Your fingertips sneaked beneath her shirt, gingerly brushing against the skin of her hip. Sylvie shivered under your touch. Her lips tasted like chocolate and wine, all sweet and addictive.

When she pulled away, Sylvie refused to go far. Her doe eyes were swimming in a sea of adoration, almost pleadingly so. You tugged her closer still, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead. It felt like a promise, the world frozen in place to hold the moment.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

When Sylvie woke up the very next morning, she wasn't sure if it had been a dream or not. Golden rays of sunlight seeped through the window and made the snow outside shine like glitter. Sylvie touched her lips with the tip of her fingers, the memory felt almost too perfect to be real. But then again, she doubted her subconscious would ever gift her with such a blessing over the night.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sylvie glanced at the package resting on top of the bedside table. She had been extra careful for it to not be crumpled or torn, it still looked perfect.

She ran a hand through her hair and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before getting up and walking to the window. The streets, sidewalks, and yards all around were covered in a thick layer of white snow, glistening under the sun. It was Christmas morning, and Sylvie was stalling.

Apprehension and nervousness twirled in her stomach wildly, she wasn't used to this. What if you regretted it? What if she had crossed a line?

The clattering of plates coming from the kitchen pulled Sylvie out of her mind. You were already awake.

Taking in a deep breath to steady herself, Sylvie forced her feet to move. She picked up her wrapped gift, and turned the door handle.

Immediately, Sylvie was engulfed by the smell of cinnamon and chocolate, it weaved through the air like a warm hug, making her close her eyes and inhale deeply. The enchantress couldn't help but allow her nose to guide her towards the kitchen, wood boards creaking under her bare feet and stripes of sunlight coming through the windows and shining against her pajamas as she walked.

The radio was on and you were humming along with the song playing, with your back turned to her as you worked on something on top of the counter, your hips swaying softly and hair pulled up in a haphazardly done bun. The window beside you was open, allowing for the cold breeze to come in, along with the morning sun rays, bathing your kitchen in an array of warm colors.

Sylvie's heart was in her throat, she bit her lip until she nearly tasted blood. There was a sting in her eyes as she looked at you as if she'd just realized what love felt like, what life was all about.

As you turned around, with your lower lip between your teeth and focused solely on the two mugs of hot chocolate in your hands so you wouldn't spill anything, Sylvie decided that she could get used to this. Actually, she would have a very hard time ever waking up without it. Without you.

When you noticed her standing before you, holding the wrapped gift between her hands as if her life depended on it, a huge smile broke into your lips and you lit up like the Christmas tree in your living room.

"Sylvie!" You exclaimed her name as if you'd been waiting the whole morning to say it. You left both mugs on the table and didn't waste a second before rushing to her. Sylvie barely had time to move your gift away before your body collided with hers. You hugged her tightly, bunching the fabric of her shirt between your fingers. "Merry Christmas," you whispered against her skin.

A breath Sylvie didn't realize she'd been holding went past her lips as she enveloped her arms around you, burying her nose in your hair and savoring the feeling of you. "Merry Christmas."

When you pulled away, Sylvie's cheeks were dusted pink and it had nothing to do with the cold. She avoided your gaze, looking down at the package in her hands instead. Tracing the wrapping with her thumbs, she said; "Um- I bought you this…" It almost sounded like a question, as if she wasn't sure this was the right way to go about it.

"You got me a gift?"

There was a waver in your voice that made Sylvie look up at you, only to be greeted with the sight of your eyes shining with… could it be love?

Sylvie tried to mimic your smile, as much as her nerves would allow. She nodded, pushing the gift into your hands.

You took it as if it was made of gold, hugging it to your chest. "Thank you," you breathed, before leaning in to land a peck to the corner of Sylvie's lips.

The gesture brought goosebumps up and down Sylvie's spine, and she watched with bated breath as you carefully tore open the wrapping at last. Your mouth hung open as you pulled out the scarf, tones of green and golden molding between your fingertips. You felt over the fabric, with your eyes drinking in every detail of it, until you promptly hooked the scarf around your neck and nuzzled in it; "I absolutely love it!" Your eyes crinkled on the sides because of your smile.

Sylvie's heartbeat stumbled, she reached up to trace the green fabric until her fingertips found the skin of your jaw. "It suits you."

"Oh, I just remembered," you told her suddenly and took hold of her hand so you could pull her to the living room. You dragged Sylvie to stand before your Christmas tree, and under it, rested a single box wrapped in green and red paper decorated with little Santas. "It's for you," your voice was as timid as Sylvie's had been as you pointed to the lone box.

Sylvie blinked and turned to you, squeezing your hand to make sure you were real. "You got me a gift?" She couldn't remember the last time someone had gotten her anything.

You pursed your lips and nodded, almost bouncing on your stance from excitement. "Of course. Come on, open it."

A breathless chuckle went past Sylvie's lips, and she knew right then and there, on this peaceful Christmas morning beside you, that she was a goner. She crouched down and unwrapped the box, prying it open with utmost care. From inside it, she pulled a crumple of white, green, and golden fabric. Much like the scarf she had given you, it was meticulously sewn together with a soft and comfortable wool.

Her chest felt all tight and warm with an emotion she could barely contain within herself. Standing up and stretching the fabric, Sylvie realized that it was a sweater, decorated with reindeer and Christmas trees. Peering around it and to you, she could clearly see you were holding back a grin.

"We'll be matching!" You exclaimed, clasping both your hands together.

Without a second thought, Sylvie pulled the sweater over her pajama shirt, closing her arms around herself and raising her shoulder as the soft fabric enveloped her. "It's perfect." She decided.

A soft laugh went past your lips and you raised a hand to Sylvie's hair, straightening the strands she had messed up. Your fingers brushed over the soft, blonde strands, until they fell to her shoulder and then found her hand, intertwining your fingers together.

Sylvie basked in the silence of the moment, in the feeling of your skin touching hers, of the comforting weight of your presence. She closed her eyes and gripped your hand tighter, gulping back a sudden wave of tears. From a lifetime of living in worlds on the edge of destruction, she'd found her little piece of paradise, all on her own. And she'd keep it close to heart until the end of her days.

The thumb of your free hand brushed her cheek, drying a drop of wetness there. The single tear that had fallen past her defenses. Sylvie looked at you and expected to see confusion or even judgment, but she only found care and adoration.

You brought your intertwined hands to your lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles; "I made us hot chocolate, what do you say?"

Sylvie's answer came in the form of a kiss of her own, to your lips instead.

Perfect.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Sylvie’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us

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genshin-impact-writings · 1 year

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omg I was thinking a LOT about a certain scenario and your event was like a blessing.

I was wondering if you could write Royalty AU with Alhaitam as a royal advisor and reader as the monarch?

You can include but you don't have to: forbidden love + the quote "I love you. You don't have to say it back. I just wanted you to know."

Hope I gave you something fun to work with!

Anon, this was the perfect combination of prompts, thank you so much for sending this in! <3 I really had so much fun working on this one! This is my first time writing for Alhaitham though, so I hope he's not too ooc. Have fun reading and stay safe, dear anon. :)

Prompts: royalty AU + forbidden love + “I love you. You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.” (1k followers event: Alternate Universes)

Only you and you alone – Alhaitham x gn!reader (royalty AU)

“The royal family of Inazuma sends their regards. They greatly appreciate your invitation but have to inform you that they cannot attend the festivities this year.” Alhaitham’s voice is calm as ever but over the years, you have come to know him well enough to notice that he’s not happy about their rejection. He has worked hard to finally put an end to the ongoing dispute between Inazuma and Sumeru that started long before you inherited the throne from your parents – and he’s rightfully upset about them still holding onto their grudge.

“That’s unfortunate,” you say. Though there’s only the two of you in the conference room, you’re carefully choosing your words. As the ruler of this kingdom, you cannot afford letting your emotions get the better of you, as it would be highly inappropriate to lose your temper. “I was hoping they’d recognize the opportunity to conclude peace between our kingdoms.”

“They should be honored that you even considered inviting them to the Sabzeruz Festival.”

You sigh. There’s no point in denying that your trusted advisor has a point there. The Sabzeruz Festival is one of Sumeru’s most important celebrations, commemorating the birth of Lesser Lord Kusanali, your nation’s beloved goddess. Getting the opportunity to partake in this celebration is an honor, indeed. Unfortunately, the Inazumans seem to think otherwise. Or perhaps they’re just trying to get under your skin by declining your invitation.

“It is what it is and we have to accept their decision,” you eventually reply and pinch the bridge of your nose. It’s been a long day, filled with conversations and meetings and tiring smalltalk, and you’re exhausted. A part of you wants to excuse yourself to lie down and get some rest. But these meetings with Alhaitham are important, not only because he’s your advisor but also because you genuinely enjoy being around him. You’re both always so busy that these meetings are almost the only opportunity to spend time with each other. And you know that it’s probably selfish and highly inappropriate – but you still find yourself craving his company when he’s not around. He’s your safe haven, your lighthouse in the stormy sea of politics. Without him, you’d be lost.

“Is everything alright?” Alhaitham’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, tone a lot softer than usual. It almost sounds as if he’s worried about you. “We can adjourn this conversation to another day if you wish” he adds when you don’t reply, “there’s not much we can do about these political issues anyways. Not now, at least.”

You’re not ready to say Goodbye to him yet, so you politely decline and reassure him that you’re fine, ignoring the quiet voice in the back of your head that’s telling you to get some rest.

Alhaitham tucks two fingers beneath your chin and gently turns your head, so that he can examine your face. “You look tired,” he says but you’re too distracted by the warmth of his touch and the unusually gentle expression in his eyes to reply anything. It’s good that it’s so late – if someone came in now and saw the two of you like this… you don’t even have the guts to even imagine the outrage that would follow. Because even though Alhaitham’s a member of the royal court, he’s still not of noble blood – and you know that there are people out there who’d jump at any chance to get rid of him and take his position as your advisor.

You have to protect him from them.

You give yourself exactly five more seconds before you pull away from his touch and straighten your back. “I’m alright,” you assure him. “Please don’t worry about me.”

“I’m your advisor, it is my job to worry about you.”

“That’s not entirely correct. Your job is to worry about politics and these stubborn Inazumans and help me figure out what to do with them.”

Alhaitham chuckles. “Well, my advice won’t be any useful if you pass out from exhaustion, no?”

You join in his laughter. Others surely would claim he’s overstepping his authority by saying things like this but to you, it’s comforting to know that he’s looking after you. “Alright, you might have a point there.”

“I know.” His gaze softens. “Leave it to me to figure out a way to solve the dispute between Sumeru and Inazuma and get some rest. You deserve it.”

You’re tempted to ask him to escort you to your room, just to get a few more minutes with him. Instead, you push your chair back and give him a brief nod. “Thank you. Good night, Alhaitham.”

He watches as you make your way to the door. Only when it has closed behind you does he reply, “Good night… (Y/N).”

* * * *

It’s the first day of the Sabzeruz Festival, and you swear, your kingdom has never looked more beautiful. The streets are decorated with beautiful flower arrangements and lights, and the streets are filled with people, conversations and laughter. The smell of delicious food lingers in the air, tempting and full of promises. Everyone looks like they’re enjoying yourself, and that alone is enough to make you happy. You have always cared about your people, sometimes even a little too much, but to you, that is what makes a good monarch. These people are the backbone of your kingdom, and it is your sacred duty to take care of them.

The other thing that puts you into such a good mood is the fact that Alhaitham is by your side as you roam the streets of the capital. He has linked his arm with yours to make sure you don’t get lost in the crowd, and you have a hard time stopping yourself from smiling like an idiot.

You’re aware that you don’t exactly need the royal advisor to accompany you to a festival but he’s much better company than some of the other members of the court. And he gets bonus points for not forcing a conversation on you when you just want to take all the different impressions in. (He also gets bonus points for being so damn handsome but you’d rather bite your tongue off than admit that.)

“It’s such a shame that Inazuma decided to miss out on this,” you say when you pass a booth that sells different kinds of sculptures and works of art. On first glance, you can spot colorfully painted candle holders and plates as well as portraits carved out of wood, showing Lesser Lord Kusanali and various creatures from your kingdom’s folklore. There’s also a portrait of yourself and one of your parents, the late royal couple.

The shop owner bows when he notices you examining his goods, and you smile at him and tell him that his works are stunning before you continue your way to the Grand Bazaar, the beating heart of the capital. It’s a beautiful place, lively and artistic, and by far your favorite spot during the Sabzeruz Festival.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Alhaitham asks. You beam at him. “Very much.”

He nods, not quite able to hide the smile that plays around the corners of his mouth. But then again, there’s probably no point in denying that it makes him happy to see you like this. You act like someone has taken a massive weight off your shoulders. It’s good that you finally get some time away from politics and responsibilities, not only because he knows how much you worry about the conflict with Inazuma, but also because he just adores this carefree and upbeat side of you. You’re like a comforting ray of sunshine in an otherwise clouded sky.

Alhaitham is not an idiot – he’s well aware that he’s head over heels in love with you. Others might be convinced that he’s not capable of genuine love, but they don’t know him. They don’t know that he has learned to carefully lock up his true feelings during the years he spent at court where every single word, every single emotion can be used against him. If someone knew how much you truly mean to him, he could lose everything.

And yet, just for a couple of seconds, he allows himself to admire you, to indulge in the breathtaking beauty of your smile and the way you’re still holding onto his arm, although the Grand Bazaar is much less crowded than the streets and you could let go if you wanted to. But you’re not letting go, and that alone is enough to make him wish that this moment could last forever.

But of course, it doesn’t.

* * * *

“Please excuse my really poor choice of words but I have never heard so much bullshit in my entire life,” you say as soon as the door has shut behind you. Only Lesser Lord Kusanali knows how you have managed to keep calm in this farce of a meeting with the envoys Inazuma has sent to your kingdom a couple of days ago.

Next to you, Alhaitham chuckles. “I honestly was thinking the same thing.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. Queen Ei might be stubborn and abides by her beliefs and her beliefs only but this isn’t like her. I wonder if there’s something about this dispute my parents haven’t told me.”

“Maybe. Do you want me to conduct investigations? I could get the Matras involved, too.”

You stop him with a wave of your hand. “Later, perhaps. Right now, we should focus on clearing our heads and take a break from politics. Care to join me for a walk through the gardens?”

“My pleasure, Your Highness.”

At this time of the day, the gardens are mostly empty, and so there’s no one to stop you from brushing your hand against Alhaitham’s as you wander around, passing beautifully arranged flower beds that are filled with Padisarahs and Sumeru roses. Neither of you speaks a word, you just enjoy each other’s company and the warmth of the setting sun on your skin. Your hands are touching again, and before you even know what is happening, Alhaitham has intertwined his fingers with yours. He’s still looking straight ahead, acting as if nothing happened, but you stop in your tracks and stare down at your hands. (You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming. Perhaps you fell asleep in that dreadful meeting?)

“Is this not what you wanted?” Alhaitham asks, and albeit his voice being smooth like butter, the insecurity in his words is obvious – at least to you. “I’m just… surprised,” you say. I never assumed you liked me too, you want to add but you don’t. There’s always the possibility that you’re just imagining things. That, and you have sworn to protect him from those who are after his position.

“I know this is not exactly appropriate,” Alhaitham says, letting go of your hand, “and I apologize if I misinterpreted anything. I just-“

“No,” you interrupt him, although you know you probably shouldn’t tell him the truth for the sake of protecting him. But you don’t want to lie to him. Not anymore. “I want this,” you add and reach out for his hand again, “I’m well aware that we could get into serious trouble for this but… all I can think about is how much I want to be with you.”

You pause and take a deep breath. “Alhaitham, what I’m trying to say is: I love you. I have loved you for so long now, andI know I shouldn’t tell you but…” When he doesn’t reply, you begin to panic. “You – you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

“Oh darling. Why on earth wouldn’t I say it back?” The tender, loving tone of his voice is enough to make your knees wobbly, and you fear you’re going to melt on the spot when he steps closer to you and leans in, so that your lips are almost touching. His next words are meant for your ears and your ears only. “I always thought it wasn’t in the cards for me to fall in love with someone. Yet, here I am, so deeply and genuinely in love with you that I can barely put it into words.”

“Show me, then,” you whisper.

It’s like he has only waited for your permission because in the blink of an eye, his lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you. He takes his sweet time, moving his free hand to the nape of your neck to pull you closer while you wrap an arm around his shoulders. It’s everything you ever wanted. And in that moment, you’re convinced that something that feels so good cannot possibly be wrong.

When Alhaitham pulls away, he gently rests his forehead against yours. “I would break all rules to be with you,” he says. You let out a shaky laugh. “I’d prefer if you didn’t. There must be another way for us to be together. Perhaps we can-“

Alhaitham silences you with another kiss. “Shh. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

You smile. “Okay.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider reblogging, liking and/or leaving some feedback. I'd really appreciate the support!

Taglist: @kaeyas-beloved @caesars-bubbles @the-gayest-sky-kid @ajaxstar

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #royalty au

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cafeinthemoon · 1 year

Text

Thorns - Part I

Chapter 1/3

Wordcount 3,4k

Title Part I

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie/ Record of Ragnarok

Pairing Hades x reader

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: blood and injury; mention of missing limb; secondary character injury and death; light angst; marriage crisis

Tagging ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A: So this idea has been with me for several weeks and finally I managed to write it! This story will have only 2 chapters, just like my previous one, "Unexpected Changes", and it doesn't follow the same timeline as it. Instead, it's inserted in "Ruins" timeline. It's a simple plot, but I hope you like it :)

Things were not the same between you and Hades.

You’ve been trying to avoid it, but this thought kept coming back to you every night you laid down to sleep, and every morning when you opened your eyes and looked around the room – each of those times all alone, for your husband, who usually spent more time at work than yourself, has been coming later to your side and leaving the bed earlier. Not that he would be deeply affected by this strange sleeping schedule, of course: he was a god, and despite being older than you, his stamina was enviable even for the youngest deities. But you loved him, so you wanted him to keep good habits anyway.

And, more than that, you wanted him with you like your first years together.

If only it was just a misunderstanding… But the fact that you’ve been sensing these changes in your daily activities with him wouldn’t let you believe it. Hades has been reducing the number of tasks he delegated to you under the excuse that you shouldn’t overwork yourself – even though he has been doing this very thing. He also has been sharing little information about his traits with other domains and jurisdictions to the point that you had to inquire him about things that, in other times, he would discuss with you with no problems; you remembered this day when you felt some distress from his part because of your questions and ended up leaving the throne room earlier to avoid an argument, a situation that you never expected to face: conflicts have always been minimal in your marriage, but now there was a permanent tension whenever you speak to each other, and you were never sure how each conversation would end up.

As the days passed, you spent more and more of your free time alone, whether at your particular garden, taking care of your flowers and getting rid of some thorns that have been increasing in size these last days, or at the balcony of your bedroom, observing the reddish skies of the Underworld with a book forgotten on your lap. In other days, you would be surprised by the sudden arrival of your husband at these places, in which he would come to talk, to date or to take you back to dinner or to your private room, but lately you had no sign of him at them.

With the prolonged loneliness came the inevitable questions: did you make a mistake, maybe more than one? If so, why couldn’t you guess where you go wrong? And why didn’t he say anything about it? Why was he acting as if nothing happened? Was it possible that he wasn’t seeing what was going on?

Does he still even see me as his wife?

***

You still remembered when things became unbearable.

It was a period of festivities in Heaven, which would last for three days and three nights. It was the last night and you were a bit tired, less because of the party itself than because the preparations for the return journey to Hellheim. Hades told you to enjoy the last hours of the night while he would reunite with some deities from a foreign pantheon to discuss some governmental matters.

– Are you sure you don’t need my assistance during the meeting, my dear? – you asked, even knowing what you were going to hear in response.

– Yes, I am. And I don’t want to steal your last moments here – he kissed your temple – Now, go. Have some fun.

You weren’t willing to argue – not in front of strangers – so you just nodded and went to the nearest balcony to get some fresh air.

You were successful in controlling your emotions while you crossed the ballroom to reach it, but once you passed under the arcade and saw yourself alone, surrounded by the night, all the party’s noises left behind, you realized how tight was your throat and your chest, and your tears didn’t come without a loud sob.

A heavy foot stepped to the spot by your side, making you startle and raise your head, wiping your tears with clumsy hands.

Your eyes widened when you recognized the intruder.

– Adamas-sama! I… How did you find me here?

Your brother-in-law didn’t travel with you to Heaven, but arrived by the same period: you’ve seen him a few times during the festivities, but you haven’t had a chance to engage in a full conversation just like you did in previous parties. He stared at you with a mixture of surprise and estrangement with your state.

– You passed by me right before you went to this balcony – he frowned – You really didn’t see me there, uh?

He was right: you didn’t see anyone in your way there. You didn’t pay attention. Your face burned with embarrassment: where did you become so rude with your pairs?

– I’m so sorry for this… I’m not feeling so well…

Adamas crossed his arms.

– Nevermind – and after a moment, – But, honestly, you haven’t been feeling well since you arrived here, or my eyes are mistaken.

You gave him a sad smile.

– Is it that clear?

He raised an eyebrow at you, as if no answer was needed. You sighed, leaning your hands on the parapet: what you were going to say was already shaking your physical balance.

– Adamas-sama… I… I think your brother doesn’t love me anymore.

The way those words sounded felt strange, foreign even when you recognized the voice that spoke them as your own. It was so hard to believe in them that it hurt, and you had no choice but to cry again.

The god of Conquest found this as unbelievable as yourself, for his first reaction was to contradict you.

– What are you talking about, y/n-chan? My elder brother adores you! His thoughts and feelings are always for you! He carries you around like his most precious jewel! The way he treats you is such that I don’t remember seeing so often in many couples!

When you heard that, you turned your neck to him so suddenly that it ached.

– Jewel? – you gasped – That explains a lot!

You might have sounded too irritated, because Adamas approached you as someone who expects terrible news.

– I don’t understand – he leaned his right arm on the parapet, turned to you – Can you explain what’s going on?

You looked away, but didn’t deny him a response.

– I’ve been thinking about the way some things are being managed in the Underworld and I cannot find a less hurtful explanation for that. Hades no longer loves me, or if he does, it is not as much as he claimed in the beginning – you swallowed – Each day that passes, whether by something he says or a decision he makes, it’s clear that he no longer sees me as the companion, the partner I was supposed to be. Lately, he has been leaving me out of the most important matters, only communicating me when everything is settled. There was one time when we almost got into an argument because of this. It’s like I’ve made some mistake about which I don’t remember, but he doesn’t talk to me about it! I don’t know what to do...

You made a pause to wipe the tears out your face, then continued:

– Since we arrived here, every time we appeared together in the presence of others, I couldn’t help feeling like I’m some burden he needs to carry. Right now, he went to discuss some matters with another pantheon and told me to go and “enjoy the party” the same way you’d speak to a child, making it clear that you don’t want to be bothered. You don’t say that with the exact words, but the child always knows. And that’s what hurts me more – you sighed – Not what he thinks or what he feels, but what he doesn’t say.

After a few seconds of silence, your brother-in-law’s first response was a low whistle.

– Who would imagine that things could come to this point between you?

There was nothing you could say about that, so you just kept staring at the night ahead. The silence didn’t bother Adamas, who brought the conversation to a new, unexpected direction.

– About his silence… I think I have a few words to say.

You turned back to him as he spoke.

– I don’t know how much he told you about the most dangerous times in Heaven, the war against the giants – he continued – But what you’re telling me now reminds me of it.

– How so?

– When one of his men came to inform that the Titans managed to escape the Tartarus, my brother’s first response was precisely the silence. He didn’t share anything with us, not even with Zeus. When we got to know what was going on, he has already traveled back to Hellheim to stop the rebellion by himself. When Poseidon finally found him, the case was solved: all the Titans were dead, and my brother was resting alone, beside their bodies.

You thought of that. Yes, your husband told you about the war and the history that preceded it, but he never told you that part when he fought a horde of Titans alone… and won against them.

– Why are you telling me this now, Adamas-sama?

– Because I believe this is something you’re yet to learn about Hades, y/n. To protect everything – and everyone – he loves, he would be the first to take all the burden to himself. He’s stronger than you can conceive. Even now, there are things about him that we, his brothers, cannot figure out, but it doesn’t have anything to do with love, or the lack of it. Hades loves us more than his own life, and by everything I’ve seen since you married him, his love, extended to you, is as deep as the one he has for us... If not deeper.

Those words touched you in a way you weren’t expecting. Hades was one of the most respected – and feared – gods of all, not only because of his power, but because of the person he was. There was no sinuosity in his feelings and principles, which granted him the fame of most reliable among his pairs. The gods’ elder brother, as some used to say.

But, if that was the case, why were you feeling like that?

– All of the things you just said are among the reasons I love and respect him as no other – you started – And I understand that, as an elder brother, his sense of responsibility is much higher than ours. But now he’s a married man! I am here with him! – and lowering your tone a bit – That must count for something...

Adamas laughed.

– Of course, it does! But this is something that you have to tell him.

– You’re right – you wiped your face one more time and took a deep breath – I think I’m going back to the party now. I doubt that I’m going to have any fun, but it’s better than staying here, crying in the dark.

– I agree with you.

The conversation continued as you walked back to the ballroom.

– Speaking of this... Can I ask you something, Adamas-sama?

– What is it?

– Please, don’t speak to Hades about this conversation. I want to talk to him myself, but not before I decide what I have to do.

Adamas laughed again before opening the way for you pass into the room first.

– Ah, who do you take me for, y/n-chan? Your secret is safe with me.

***

Your travel back to the Underworld was silent as always, but that time the quietness wasn’t followed by comfort.

Apparently, Adamas kept his promise and didn’t say a word about your discussion to Hades, otherwise he would have already taken the opportunity to speak about it while you had the privacy of the carriage’s interior. At least one reason for you to feel relieved, you thought.

Apart from that, there wasn’t really much you wanted to discuss, and you sensed that trying to engage in talking right now would only expose your unease, so you just kept your mouth shut and avoided visual contact…

But, unfortunately for you, your husband knew you too well, and your little strategy didn’t go unnoticed by him.

– Are you alright, my y/n?

My y/n.

Your heart ached when you heard the treatment. You had no desire to respond, but keeping quiet would be the confirmation that something was wrong, so you forced yourself to speak.

– Yes. It’s just that I…

You were going to say you weren’t feeling well, but that would be the worst excuse imaginable.

Ah, yes, gods don’t get sick. I can’t use it since I’m no longer human.

– I’m… just a bit tired. I’m sure I will feel better once I reach my room.

You were sitting in front of each other, with a distance of one meter separating your spots. Hades then made you a proposal that, in other times, you would never consider refusing.

– Here – he offered his hand – You can rest on my lap if you want.

You felt a second, stronger sting in your heart, more because you would have to decline it than because of the offer itself, but you ignored it and explained that you were fine in your own seat. That response sounded strange to Hades, but fortunately he didn’t argue on it, and the silence was again established between you.

***

If only you’ve had the courage to speak about it, things could have been different that day. If you had a way to know that the circumstances would escalate to that, you would never let it go any further. If you have done something about it as soon as you could, many of those problems could have been avoided.

According to what you heard the last day, a horde of a young generation of monsters and giants devastated the jurisdiction of an Oriental pantheon and somehow found a way to Hellheim, and the Underworld’s soldiers were facing difficulties against them.

You were in the throne room alongside your husband, Adamas (who was called by him last night and has just arrived) and the high council of the Underworld’s army, everyone expecting the news in tense silence. The building and all its surroundings were isolated, so that no one could enter or leave without Hades’ consent, the messengers and soldiers being the only exceptions. The vigilance was reinforced, and the slightest anomaly in the procedures would shake everyone’s moods.

You weren’t less anxious, of course. For it was your first time facing such situation, tension, nervousness and all derivative feelings were expected, but you were surprised to see them present in the expressions of the others, especially your husband: he was the most silent among them, and it wasn’t hard to guess that, seeing centuries of peace in Hellheim ending like that got him irritated.

Well, he’s actually furious.

Right now, you were waiting for the last messenger sent to the battle field to return with updates. You’ve lost the sense of time, not knowing if you have been inside that room for minutes, hours or days. That was the worst part of it: you wanted to stand up, walk around the corridors, run, scream, take a glass of alcohol for yourself, but you wouldn’t allow your feet to pass that doorway. You were a Queen, and a queen never runs.

The entry’s doors were suddenly pushed and a messenger, not the one who was first sent, stormed into the room, running and kneeling before the throne, trying to catch his breath.

All the people who were standing stepped back when they put their eyes on him: the man wasn’t only exhausted, but seriously injured, with an arm missing and barely keeping his position on the ground, upon which he left a trace of blood since the entry.

– H-Hades-sama… They’re close…! – the messenger’s voice was a fading whisper, so that you noticed Hades leaning forward to understand him – My detachment is… gone…

This last word was interrupted by a coughing fit during which he expelled blood. When it was clear that the man wouldn’t be able to say anything else and was going to pass out, you ran from your spot to hold him before he smashed his face on the ground. Only when you knelt with him you realized how much you were trembling.

You looked around and everyone was still quiet.

– Someone take him to the nursery! – you yelled – Now!

There was an unsettling movement around the room, but no one took the initiative to obey you. You swallowed.

– What’s going on? – you asked, lower – He needs help!

– Not anymore, y/n.

It was Adamas’ voice, calmer than usual. You turned to him, who watched the scene with seriousness; you shivered when you noticed the rare feeling of sadness in his eyes.

It was when you understood.

You looked down at the messenger and turned his face to you. His eyes were still open, but the consciousness would never come back to them; a line of reddish fluid fell from the corner of his gaping mouth. His traits, once twisted with pain and despair, were now relaxed, and they wouldn’t change from this. Your throat tightened as you passed your hand upon his eyes to close them.

A heavy energy took over the room and wasn’t broken until the voice of the King was finally heard, but his words were not directed to you.

– Call your servants – he was saying to one of the officers – Tell them to take him to shores. Charon must take care of him now.

The officer left without a word or a look to the dead man. You turned to your husband and, before you could say anything, he stood up and approached you, kneeling by your side.

– There’s nothing we can do for him now, y/n – he put his hands over your shoulders – The people from his regiment will give him the appropriate farewell.

You knew what he was doing: he wanted you to go back to your seat and leave the man’s body on the floor, in front of everyone, until the servants come to take him away. But you wouldn’t forgive yourself if you agreed with such thing: despite being a goddess for centuries now, you still found it hard to see death through the divine lens; your heart was still too human for that. You were turned from human to deity without experiencing death in any form, but it didn’t make things easier for you.

You wouldn’t start an argument in the current situation, but you wouldn’t give in either.

– I can’t imagine how much he has suffered to reach us – you whispered, observing the face of the dead man.

– I understand – Hades replied – But now he’s not suffering anymore.

– I know. But I’ll stay with him until the servants come.

Your husband understood that trying to change your mind was useless, so he didn’t say anything else. You felt his hand caressing your hair before he stepped away, staying on his feet a few meters behind you.

The servants didn’t take long to reach the throne room. They didn’t need to ask anything: once they reached you, you stood up and moved away, leaving them to do their work. However, you still had something to do before they left.

– Please, wait – you called them.

When they turned to you, you raised your hand and used your power to materialize a white chrysanthemum, then gave it to the nearest servant.

– Send this with him – you requested – My feelings and thoughts are in its petals. It’s for him... and the others.

The servant accepted the flower from your hands and nodded in gratitude.

– Thank you, my Lady – she said – We will never forget your kindness.

All of you observed in silence as they carried the messenger out of the room… and the sound of the large doors closing behind them was like the first thunder of an imminent storm.

Before any of you could do or say anything, you saw Hades going to the spot beside his throne, grabbing his bident from its base, then passing by you and walking toward the doors. He didn’t give any explanations about his plans or where he intended to go, and no one dared stop him or make questions, not even Adamas.

No one… except you.

You rushed through the room and reached him before he touched the knob.

– What is it? – you whispered, holding his arm – What are you going to do?

He turned to you with an intensity that you rarely saw in his usually composed face, one that shook your emotions and evoked something close to fear.

However, this wasn’t as fearful as the reply he gave you.

– Anything but my obligation. I’m going to stop them.

#record of ragnarok hades #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades #ror hades #snv hades #hades x reader #snv hades x reader #ror hades x reader #record of ragnarok fanfic #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades x reader #record of ragnarok hades x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader

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coconutlimeverbena · 2 years

Text

It's finally here! I was motivated to finish this recommendation list after seeing some anti-SakuAtsu foolery on Twitter (someone was saying that it only has 2 good fics out of the nearly 10K it has on AO3🤨). Anyway, here's 30 (!!) Haikyuu fics to enjoy: 10 SKTS, 10 Other, and 10 platonic. Make sure to check all tags before reading, and, if you can, leave a comment or Kudos. Enjoy!

SakuAtsu🦊😷

a thousand winds that blow: Motoya dies, Kiyoomi struggles, and a kindhearted bartender helps. I almost felt guilty the amount of times this fic made me laugh. 18K words. Rating: Teen Audiences (as the tags mention, grief and mourning are heavy themes here)

big league chew: Newbie baseball pitcher Sakusa is mentored by hothead catcher Atsumu. Featuring beautiful relationship development and Sakusa & Osamu friendship. 93K Words (9 chapters). Rating: Explicit

Call Me Baby: after recieving a gift card for a phone sex line, Sakusa reluctantly calls and ends up making a friend. 11K words. Rating: Mature

Four Years: Atsumu struggles to forgive his brother and his ex after he caught them with each other. I normally skip cheating fics but this one was so complex and handled so well, that I had to tell everyone else about it. 21K words (10 chapters). Rating: Teen Audiences (The follow-up stories are highly recommended too)

Hell or Glory: Atsumu meets Sakusa while trying to find Osamu during a zombie apocalypse. 12K words. Rating: Mature (minor character deaths, very little gore for a zombie fic though)

holding up the universe: When his soulmark doesn't appear on his wrist at 14 years old, Kiyoomi resigns himself to a lifetime of loneliness. Featuring background Suna/Osamu/Motoya. 50K words (2 chapters). Rating: Mature

how can I not be moved by you: within 5 seconds of meeting warlock Atsumu, apothecary owner Sakusa decides that he does not like him. Modern era magic AU. 26K words (3 chapters). Teen Audiences.

how to NOT fall in love with your flatmate's twin Definitely a SakuAtsu fic, but it focuses heavily on the developing friendship between roommates Sakusa and Osamu as Kiyoomi denies his feelings for Atsumu. 47K words (3 chapters). Rating: Mature

Lost In Your Pull: In which Kiyoomi defines everything using the logic of physics then realizes that he can't escape Atsumu's gravitational pull. 19K words (2 chapters). Rating: Teen Audiences

lovegame: Atsumu encounters an intriguing stranger while traveling to be a contestant on Love Island. Awesome fic, featuring great friendship dynamics. 119K words (18 chapters). Rating: Mature

Haikyuu (misc)🏐🏐

After You Go, Won't You Stay?: MSBY's bus is involved in a crash, leaving everyone scrambling in the aftermath. 4K words. Rating: General Audiences (Major Character Death & grief)

and this is breathing (and seeing it go): Hinata suffers from homesickness when he joins The Black Jackals; his teammates help. 6K words. Rating: Teen Audiences

Enigma: an ode to Bokuto Koutarou. 2.5K words. Rating: General Audiences

gonna stand by you 5 times Kageyama defended his teammates and 1 time they defended him. 5K Words. Rating: General Audiences

meeting you: Kenma's low self-esteem makes him hesitant to meet his longtime online friends. 7K words (2 Chapters) Rating: Teen Audiences

"Monster": Tendou finds acceptance at Shiratorizawa. 2K words. Rating: General Audiences

Silver Lining: Asahi gets stood up on a blind date at a festival, but ends up having the best day of his life anyway. 9K words. Rating: Teen Audiences

Something Bigger: Despite his best efforts, Tsukishima might be developing feelings for the two guys who rent surfboards from his shop every day. 8K words. Rating: Teen Audiences

Somewhere Over the Rainbow: Kuroo and Kenma meet in different lifetimes. Promised Neverland-ish reincarnation fic. Technically does contain Major Character Death. 32K Words (5 chapters) Rating: Mature (for angst)

the world will follow after: Tsukishima refuses to go to Hinata and Kageyama's wedding alone, so he puts out an ad on Craigslist to find a date. While this is a Tsukkiyama fic, I especially love how the friendships are written in this story. 120K words (11 Chapters) Rating: Explicit

Platonic

all id, no ego: Atsumu learns more about himself as his friendship with Sakusa develops. 8K words. Rating: Teen Audiences

An Opponent is Announced: Kiyoomi's efforts to prepare for the Olympics are thwarted by the mystery of Oikawa Tooru. 13K words. Rating: General Audiences

breathe in and shout: Kageyama reluctantly attends his middle school reunion. 5K words. Rating: General Audiences

budding silence: Aone no longer sits alone on the train. 2K words. Rating: General Audiences

Losing Cakes and Counting Keys: Atsumu's cake is missing, and he, Bokuto and Sakusa struggle to remember who has keys to their apartment. 4K words. Rating: General Audiences

Mishap and coincidence make a fool's luck: Daishou accidentally sends a vent text to the wrong number and ends up with a friend. 3K worsds. Rating: Teen Audiences

Oh, Brother(s): 3 times Aran was there for the twins and 1 time they were there for him. 4K words. Rating: General Audiences

paper flowers: Ushijima's garden seems to attract other team captains. 3K words. Rating: General Audiences

Picasso's Portraits: art student Atsumu goes to an art museum to find inspiration for a project and ends up clashing with an artist there. 9K words. Rating: General Audiences

Shivers Down My Spine: Yachi's terrible day is greatly improved when she runs into some familiar faces at the library. 8K words. Rating: General Audiences

(I never ask this, but feel free to reblog this post, because the more people see the recommendations, the more they'll share with others.)

See you in a few weeks months soon with another list🥰

(Previous List)

#sakuatsu #kagehina #asanoya #bokuakakuroken #kuroken #tsukiyama #sunaosa #arankita #sakusa kiyoomi #yachi hitoka #bokuto koutaro #hinata shouyou #azumane asahi #nishinoya yuu #my posts #haikyuu #fic recs #hqfic

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uwingdispatch · 10 months

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Devotion

Notes: Brasso/Reader, established relationship, gender neutral reader, post-rebellion/post-war, hurt/comfort, chronically ill/disabled reader

CW: depression/mental health struggles, active shooter

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

“What’s going on?”

You’re in your pajamas, standing at the end of the hallway that leads to your bedroom. It’s 3:00 in the morning and you’ve woken to find Brasso sitting at the kitchen table, fiddling with something in his hands.

Startled, he looks up. “How long have you been standing there?” He asks, running a hand through his dark hair, his grays hidden in the shadows of the dimly-lit room. In this moment there’s a sadness in his eyes that he doesn’t often allow you to see.

“Not long,” you say.. “I woke up and you weren’t there. I had a feeling…”

“I made you anxious,” Brasso says, pushing away from the table. “I’m so sorry, love.”

You insist that you’re fine, but he’s already wrapping his big arms around you and you can’t help but sleepily lean into his embrace.

“I got a message from Wilmon today. Did you know it was the anniversary of Rix Road?”

“I should have remembered.”

“No, darling,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “No, I’d rather not remember that day. Most of it, anyway.”

“Are you all right?” You ask.

“I will be,” he says. “Last time I was on Ferrix, Xanwan’s niece was cleaning up his old store front, getting it ready to sell. She gave me this keyfob of his that she found in a drawer. It’s just a festival trinket from an old holiday but…there are pictures from that day. The old gang, you know? Before I met you, even.”

“You’re thinking about Xan?”

“And everyone who didn’t make it out that day. How things could have gone differently if I’d just—”

“If you’d just what? Let fascists steamroll your entire community? Brasso, people did get out because of you. And I’m sure I’m not the only one you warned away from town that day.”

“You’re not.”

“And you got Wilmon out.”

“I did.”

“Bee. Bix. Jezzi.”

He answers with a sigh.

You step back so you can see your partner’s face, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear so you can look into his eyes. “You’re one man, Brasso. A very good man, but still just one. How were you going to stop anything that Maarva Andor started?

He laughs a little, remembering the woman who had been so much to so many people. You’d never been a Daughter of Ferrix, but it was Maarva who invited you to join in on some of the community projects anyway. It was people you met through Maarva who had encouraged you to start selling your handmade goods, who had told you how much they’d enjoyed the things you’d made for fundraisers over the years. And it was the Daughters, so many now spread throughout the galaxy, who’d helped you leave Ferrix and find a place on Gatalenta. Who’d told you that Brasso would find you when the war was over, because surely someone knew where he was, even if it wasn’t safe for you to know yet.

In the hallway, Brasso hands you the keyfob. There’s a year etched on the back and it is indeed before you’d met Brasso, but you’d been in town then. Back after finishing your degree, trying to feel out what was next. You’d made jogun fruit jam that year for the festival these pictures were taken at. And you’d only been at the stall for a few hours each day, but in the background of one of the pictures, there you were.

“Brasso,” you say. “That’s me.”

“No kidding,” he says, zooming in. “Beautiful as ever.”

“You can barely see me.”

“I can see enough.” Brasso kisses your forehead, his lips soft and warm on your skin. “Let me get you back to bed, darling. Enough of my troubles for the night. I never should have woken you in the first place.”

“You didn’t wake me,” you remind him.

But he has your hand in his and is leading you back down the hallway to the bedroom, the keyfob left behind.

There were a lot of things you loved about Ferrix, but the time grappler had never been one of them. He was a nice enough man, and you didn’t have any quarrel with him personally. But you’d never been a morning person. And nothing about Ferrix was going to change that. You’d occasionally pick up a morning shift at the café where you worked if someone called out and they needed help. But other than that? You needed the rest. So you jammed a pillow over your head while the time grappler struck the beskar steel in the tower at the start of each day until you could go back to sleep.

You’d known Brasso for a few years when he showed up with a basket of fruit a few hours after dawn, banging on your door like the galaxy was collapsing. You crawled out of bed and put on a robe, sure that there was some kind of maintenance emergency in the building.. But when you opened the door, it was Brasso, all two meters of him with a desperate look on his face. And…the fruit.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, the annoyed tone in your voice unmistakable.

“Thank the stars,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “You’re all right.”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“Someone opened fire at the market this morning. Not even from here…at least nobody I can think of matches his description. Someone called Morlana-1. Corpos showed up and all they managed to do is chase him to the café.”

You knew without asking that he meant your café, and at the word of corpos, you stepped back to let Brasso in. His cheeks were rosy from the early morning cold, his eyes bright, and his work clothes were crisp and tidy before a long day at the salvage yard.

“Is anyone hurt?” you asked.

“There were some injuries at the market,” Brasso said, running a hand through his hair. “But the café…we don’t know yet. They won’t let anyone near the building. I came to see you as soon as I heard.”

You didn’t live far from your work—just a few blocks. And as all of the information you were receiving began to solidify in your brain you felt your nervous system kick into high gear. You tried to steady your breathing as you asked, “What’s with the fruit?”

“The Daughters dropped this off for my mum the other night. But you know how she’s allergic to meilooruns—won’t eat anything that’s touched them out of precaution. I thought I’d leave it for you on my way to work…and then someone commed me about all this…I’m just so glad you’re safe, love.”

This was the first time he’d ever used that term of endearment with you, and you weren’t sure what to make of it, but it warmed something inside of you that you knew you’d never shake, even as you felt yourself giving way to panic.

Brasso pulled you close again. “Hey,” he said. “I’ve got you.”.

It’s all you needed to hear.

“I know you don’t do mornings. I’m so sorry to wake you…I just…they don’t have the guy in custody yet. Do you mind if I stick around for a bit? You don’t carry a blaster and…”

“I’ll make us some caf,” you say, turning toward your little kitchen.

“No,” he said, his hands steady on your shoulders. “You sit down. I’ve thrown off your day, the least I can do is make you breakfast.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Unless you want to go back to sleep. I can leave if—”

“No,” you said, your breath shaky. And, when he took your hand in his, it felt so right that for a moment you forgot that everything about this morning was unusual. “Stay,” you said. “Please.”

“All right,” he said, his eyes searching yours for something neither of you seemed to quite grasp.

You snapped out of your haze and went to get yourself cleaned up and dressed, allowing yourself in your sleepiness to think thoughts about this man, your closest friend, that normally you pushed away. He was right there, after all. In your kitchen. If you let yourself feel what you felt, if it came burbling out of you in a groggy delirium…you couldn’t bear the thought of anything changing between you. Of losing this closeness. Because somehow it hadn’t occurred to you that he felt those feelings about you, too.

You wake to the sound of clattering in the kitchen, a string of curses on Brasso’s tongue. There’s not a lot that can get you out of bed quickly but, after last night, you’re a little worried that he’s not just upset about a broken dish.

You slip into a robe and hurry into the kitchen where you find your husband sweeping up broken glass.

“It’s early, love,” he says when he sees you. “You can go back to sleep.”

“No, I can’t,” you say. “Some anniversaries you just feel in your bones. This is one of those for you.”

Brasso is washing his hands. You can’t tell if he’s ignoring you or if he just doesn’t know what to say.

“Brass?”

“I don’t know why it’s hitting me like this,” he says. “It’s been so long.”

“You told me last night you heard from Wilmon. Is he all right?”

“He is.”

Brasso drops a towel on the counter and you take his hand. You’ve both had more than your fair share of grief. Grief for loved ones lost. For futures that could never be. For safe places that would never feel safe again. And with the Imperial occupation of Ferrix you lost your home as you knew it. But you’d moved there as a teenager. You didn’t have generations of history there like Brasso did. His roots there were different. And when he chose to stay on Gatalenta, it was partly because could never go back to the place he left—not for more than a visit. Because too much had changed for it to feel like home for him.

“Let me make us some caf,” you say.

“Nonsense,” he says. “I’ve spoiled your sleep again, I’ll just—

“Brasso.”

“Okay,” he says, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “I hear you.”

He’s always been the kind of man who takes care of everyone else and struggles to let others take care of him. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to ask for help, it’s that he doesn’t want to burden anyone. Even after all this time, he hesitates to tell you when something is wrong that he thinks he can handle on his own. You usually figure it out anyway, and he usually gives in to your care. But it hasn’t always been easy.

As you grind the caf beans—a blend he’d picked up at the market last week—you think of all those afternoons after you’d first met, when he’d turn up at the cafe on his break. It had been the best part of your day. You’d later learn that he’d been pretty loyal to a caf bar closer to his place until the day he stopped in on his lunch one afternoon and recognized you, the person he’d helped with the spilled groceries just a week or so before. Soon, he was a staple, falling into an easy routine with you. The two of you started taking your breaks together, soon becoming so close that it seemed like you’d always known each other. The first time he walked you home, on a night when the end of your shifts coincided, you had a feeling that maybe—just maybe—when you got to your apartment he was going to kiss you. But the moment passed. And you let yourself push the thought of a romance with Brasso to the back of your mind for the first time.

When you put a cup of caf in front of Brasso today, he takes your hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“Tell me what you need,” you say.

“Just sit with me, love,” he says. “All I need is you.”

Brasso was the kind of man who didn’t know how not to be busy. He’d been in your apartment for all of ten minutes before he’d sliced up some of the fruit to go with eggs and toast for breakfast. You’d known him long enough to know that this was just what he did. When he was upset, he took care of other people. So you should have known that when you’d sleepily mentioned that your refresher sink had been leaking that he was going to have to try and fix it. Now, a few hours later, he was in there with the tools he’d meant to take to work before the trajectory of his day had changed, leading him to you instead.

“You don’t have to do this,” you told him. “I can call the building manager and have him come take care of it.”

“It’s a simple fix,” he said. “I’m almost done.”

It was noon. Word was out that the scene had been cleared at the cafe, luckily with only some minor injuries. But nobody wanted to go out while the corpos were still around. And Brasso hadn’t said anything but you could tell he didn’t want to leave you by yourself either. Ferrix had always watched out for their own, and there was no telling what these off-planet police might do while they were here. Who they might bother. They didn’t know Ferrix and they didn’t like it any more than it liked them. So the streets had emptied. Places of business were closed. And Brasso was still with you.

“Finished,” Brasso called out from the refresher. “Good as…well as good as it was when you moved in here at least,” he said.

Not a lot on Ferrix was brand new. You liked this about your home. When you first came to Ferrix, you hadn’t known what to make of it. But now—now you felt there was something cozy about it. It was comforting to think about all the lives that had touched everything here.

You smiled as you heard Brasso taking off his tool belt and putting it with his boots by the door. When he came to sit with you, he’d unzipped the top of his coveralls and tied the arms around his waist, the black tanktop underneath accentuating the muscle of his chest, his broad, freckled shoulders. His hair was a bit mussed, and you fought the urge to reach out and touch it, to smooth it back in place.

He noticed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said. “I zoned out for a moment. Probably just tired.”

“Things are changing around here,” he said. “It’s setting people on edge. I can’t remember the last time I had a day where I just felt at peace. Where things felt normal.”

“I wish there was something more I could do.”

“You’re here. That’s peace enough for me today.”

You yawned then, and he put his arm around you.

“Come here,” he said, grabbing the knit blanket you kept thrown over the back of your couch. “Close your eyes. Just rest.”

So you did. You let yourself relish in that closeness, in his clean, familiar scent, the secure warmth of his strong arms, the steady rhythm of his heart. It wasn’t the first time you’d fallen asleep in his arms. And you did still wonder, sometimes, if there was something there that neither of you dared to speak about. But you had seen Brasso’s affection with other friends as well. And, at the end of the day, you were grateful for what you had with him, even if it wasn’t quite what you wanted. He made you feel safe, even on days like this, and given the state of the galaxy, that was a considerable feat.

“Would you want to go out today?” Brasso asks.

He’s just woken up from a nap, and he’s wandered out of the bedroom looking delightfully mussed in his favorite pair of sweatpants. You’ll never get used to the fact, even after all this time, that this beautiful man has chosen to spend the rest of his life with you. You’d been answering holomail, but you put down your datapad, ready to do what you can to ease your partner’s stress.

“Are you up for it?” you ask. “There’s that food festival downtown, you know. In the park by the spires. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to go.”

“That sounds nice.” He sits on the sofa next to you, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I think I need some fresh air.”

“I think you do, too.”

You smooth his hair away from his face. Even as you say this, a part of you wants to just sit here like this all afternoon, resting your head on his chest, tracing the lines of the tattoos he collected in his travels, before he came home to you. A part of you wants to just stay here, like this, for the rest of the day. Still, you tell him to go get dressed, that you’ll be ready to go when he is.

Soon you’re in the park, a soft blanket laid out over the grass beneath you, paper containers of hot treats waiting to be opened—things from a few different food carts, because neither of you could choose.

“Now this,” Brasso says to you, “this is something I want to remember.”

“Hm?” You’re trying to open a bottle of a fizzy drink you hadn’t seen here before.

“Love,” Brasso says, one finger under your chin as he eases your face toward his. “Today is the day I first met you. Did you know that?”

You have to admit you didn’t remember the date. But he isn’t the kind of person to be upset over that. He knows his memory is better than most, and that you have a tendency to forget anything you don’t write down.

Still, you say, “I’m sorry,”

He smiles, leans in to touch his nose to yours. “No need,” he says.

There was a time when you never could have imagined Brasso would be the type to kiss you this way, out in the open for everyone to see. But whatever part of him that maybe had been too bashful for that kind of intimacy was gone with the war. With all the years he couldn’t hold you or kiss you at all. And under the bright sun he pulls you toward him, bringing your legs over his lap as he leans in to kiss your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips, a kiss rich with devotion as he cradles your cheek in one of his big, rough hands.

You reach for his face, caressing the scruff of his short beard before threading your fingers through his hair, now collar-length, the silver strands catching the light. He still doesn’t believe you when you tell him you’ve never seen anyone more beautiful than him. But you’ll never get tired of telling him this, of telling him that from that day you met him there was nobody else in the galaxy who stood a chance to win your affections.

Today, you tell him: “I love you, you know. So much.”

“I know,” he says, a sparkle in his hazel eyes. “I can remember these things for the both of us.”

He kisses you again, a bit deeper, lingering, and you whisper, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, “People are staring.”

He laughs, running his fingers softly over your jaw before his hand comes to rest at the nape of your neck. “Let them,” he says.

And so you do, letting yourself enjoy this closeness as a warm breeze comes through the park, the sky in this moment seemingly full of possibilities, his kiss an infinite canvas for you to complete. You make a note of the date, and think to yourself that you won’t forget this time. You couldn’t possibly forget an afternoon like this.

★★★★★★★★

Hopefully it won't be so long between fics next time, but I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading! I hope this fic made you feel seen and loved.

I have a taglist now! Sign up here if you want to be tagged in future fics. (And choose if you only want to be tagged for certain characters.) In the meantime, I’m tagging my taglist as well as some folks who have been reblogging my fics. Love y’all!

@writingbylee @waterpancakeao3 @zinzinina @princessxkenobi @aerynwrites @belfry-bat @phoenixhalliwell @r1-sw-lover @laserbrains @darthanakn @lovedbyth3sun @usernamesarebitches @maul-ologue @operation-spot @writeforfandoms @akgracemk @littlemousedroid @strwrs @saveatruckrideoptimusprime @galaxtic-writings @mintpurplemnm @againstacecilia @elasticreality @zombiedixon89 @forresway @sith-as-heck @alistocats @favficss @themandadolorian @ginger-swag-rapunzel @iamsuchanasshat@vvpoisonous @saradika @islandfrogeery @boba-brasso-bee @groguspawbeans @fluffyprettykitty @mischiefqueer @wretchedmo @wyn-n-tonic @dystopicjumpsuit

33 notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 1 year

Note

Your Harbinger Christmas fic made me melt like an ice cream, especially when i read Capitano's section 😭💓🛐 the way u write him in the fic had me in tears, i love him so much 😭💞💞

I just love the thought of Capitano being this "A dangerous and powerful man who leads an entire army to a war, a man who is feared but also respected by many people and all of his foes calling him a monster in battlefield". But when he is alone with reader, he suddenly became a man that wants to be loved 😭 its funny but also really cute and sweet 🥺💓.

I can't stop thinking about "before" both Capitano and reader being together, i believe that someone like him never celebrate holiday.. He probably spend it for training himself, strategizing war tactics, etc. So of course he had no idea of how being festive. But now that they are together, seeing him finally can relax and reader teaching him few things about holidays is just makes my heart flutter (he deserves everything good 🙏😭)

About that part where reader gave him that "ugly" Christmas sweater as a joke.. It may look ugly to them, but for him its beautiful bcs its literally A GIFT from HIS S/O and i think he will cherish it forever ❤ (idk why, but i think reader will starts to feel bad and decided to give him a good one 😅).

And also, shopping with him is probably a bit funny to think of bcs its the only time both Capitano and reader argue with each other. Capitano keep insisting of carrying all of the items they bought while reader trying to tell him to give some of it to them. Also imagine him raising his hands up with all of the items effortlessly while reader trying to reach to grab one of the items from him is just funny and cute (other people are watching them too btw).

Anyways, thank you so much for always making my and everyones day better with ur fic smooches 🛐🛐🙏 i hope you have a great holiday with ur families and friends! Remember to take care yourself! And happy new year! 🎉🎊

(Before i go, remember ur fic about fragile!reader but they already dead? I can't stop imagining the angst about the Harbingers spending holidays without their s/o 🙃 okay that's all, see you!)

-🥝

I'm so glad you liked my Christmas ramblings 🥝 anon!💓💓 (When I was writing Capitano's part I was thinking of u ngl, I was like what will🥝 anon think?) AND YEWWWW I love thinking about Capitano the same way🛐 Very tough and deadly but when he's in the comfort of his lover's arms he just wants to let his guard down and succumb to them :3 And yea, he never cared for the holidays, though he always lets his soldiers go spend time with their families if they want (he's a good captain, otherwise he wouldn't be respected!) So soldiers who stay in the headquarters are used to seeing him working, but when one Christmas comes around they don't see him and they're like ??? huh?? Until later they find out he got himself a cute lil partner to finally spend time with😭💞😭💞😭💞

AND YESSS CAPITANO CHERISHES EVERY SINGLE THING READER GIVES HIM. Literally could give this man a rock with a smiley face and he'd take It so seriously. (And yes reader def gives him a nicer sweater bc they cant take him seriously in the older one😭💞) And shopping with him is so funny - he NEVER lets you carry anything, which is very gentlemanly, but you're also like!! Hey let me do something!! But he never lets you, he wants to treat you like royalty and also is slightly scared of its being too heavy🛐 I can just imagine him holding everything up high while having your grocery list in the other hand as he's trying to figure out with aisle has the item, and you're trying to tackle his arm to let the stuff down😭

Thank you 🥝 anon for your delicious brain rot I enjoyed it very much 😌 I hope you had a wonderful holidays and a great new year!! Take care of yourself too nonnie <333

(You just had to make it sad at the end...😢😢 Idek what to say... the holiday spirit would be completely dead. The only wish they had was an impossible one - for you to come back into their arms😭😭 STOPPP IM SAD NOW- unless you come to visit them in their dreams🥺 they would be so happy until they wake up and realize they were just dreaming...)

#smooches talks #🥝 anon #capitano love notes <3 #ur messages always be making my day omg😭💓#the way u love capitano sm makes me so happy

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binarybitex · 8 months

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Since today is appreciation day, I obviously had to send something in ^^ This is going to be really long because I have a lot to ramble about -w-

Let's start with the obvious. Cardboard Castle. I FUCKING LOVE IT!!! I feel so lucky to have been graced with an over 100k-long slow burn with my favorite pair. You had my ass checking the tag every day to see if it had gotten an update. Every chapter is amazing, but 4 and 5 have to be my favorite. Something about them is just… idk. Maybe it's because I absolutely love carnivals and go to them every chance I get, and the way you described them it just made me feel like I was reliving them. Plus the corn maze scene?? Dawg you had me feeling like Sebastian thinking “Just kiss him!!” The fact that it’s not really a date, but totally is. Just reading it makes me feel so festive, no matter the time of year. Thinking about it now I have the urge to make some apple cider. With all the inspiration I get from it: here’s a little mood board based on it!

As for chapter 5, I really just enjoyed the dialogue at the end. The vibes are also immaculate. I can enjoy a good angsty fic like the next guy, but David and Max just bonding with each other and being mundane makes me feel so soft. The dialogue really felt like two people just going over old memories. In your author’s note, you mentioned it would be a boring chapter, but I feel like it was anything but boring. Whenever I want to read something fluffy, I always go back to that chapter. Plus what Max did to Charly was hilarious. I don’t have as much to say about this one as I did chapter 4, but nonetheless, I love it!! To be honest, it was after reading chapter 5 that I really got into writing and decided to upload my work/become more active in the maxvid community as a whole.

And onto Heart Hallow ;D I don’t usually find myself getting into OC projects, but when webtoons recommended it to me, I was like “I’ll give it a go” AND I’M GLAD I DID BECAUSE AJDGWMEOWHFE. I adore the characters, the drawings (particularly the coloring you do for each panel!), and the little stories they go through each chapter. I can tell so much love went into it from just seeing how you talk about it when asked. Kara is up there as one of my favs (yes because she’s Aroace but it has a good personality!! I just like seeing Aroace characters >w>) but Lewis and Zeke are my top too. On several of my assignments, I have Z + L scribbled on them surrounded by hearts. It has driven my friends crazy trying to figure out who they are LMAO.

And just like I do with all my favorite media, I had to insert my OC in there somewhere :3 So, Spencer! I had a lot of fun filling out her card and doing the little edit. She managed to sneak her way into employment at HH (I’m not creative, please just accept this.) and is one of the housekeepers. So two things about her. One, she’s an artist. She does a lot of landscapes/portraits. And two, she’s super messy. Which is why she has a bunch of paint all over her! She’s good at getting it out though.

Anyways, the reason that she has paint all over her is that she noticed a lot of the walls at the hotel needed to be touched up, and since she’s really good with matching colors (make-up artist), she used what paint the hotel did have to create the color needed to re-paint the walls. Then she heard about the old murals that used to be on the walls (probably from Lewis) and was like, “Wait a second. I can paint landscapes. I should do that!” So she got (dubious) permission from Mr. Wright and got to painting! She does it whenever she has time. Mr. Wright seems like he wouldn’t care, cause free art. So yeah. She does a lot of painting so constantly dirty, much to Lewis’s annoyance. And every holiday she gives all her co-workers paintings because it's cheap and easy.

And some doodles :> Not the greatest artist but I like to think I’m funny.

She suffers from having bad taste in men disease :( Her two friends, Ava and Mia run a bakery and anytime they have leftovers they give them to her. If she has anything left from that she’ll take in with her to share the next day. She is also super tall (6’5) because it's funny to insert her into a show/movie/comic and have her be the tallest person there. I also had another meme in mind but I don’t think I’ll finish it in time so be prepared for a random meme in your DMs one day.

And that’s it. Sorry it’s so long, I just want to make sure I say everything on my mind!! You’re super cool and I love your stuff and keep up the good work :3 Have a great day!!! (again your art is really nice to look at ok bye)

hi omg!! this is the most pleasant thing to open my phone up to and I just have to thank you for taking the time to write all this to me! 🫶

I'm beyond elated you've loved cardboard castles as much as me. it's my baby, and chapters 4&5 are my favorites too! I LOVE the moodboard!! omg!! srsly you did such an amazing job with it!

and Spencer is adorable !! I had a feeling you might have been coming up with an OC 👀 she'd fit right in with the cast. love how tall she is... the fact that she's taller than lewis is just 🤌and we're definitely missing a creative personality type at Heart Hollow! (for now. a new character gets released soon towards the end of book 1. she's an eccentric artsy kinda woman herself!)

your art is so cute, I love your style!! and the fact you filled out an employee sheet for spencer makes me so happy 🫶

have a lovely day and I hope that you'll send some more stuff my way! my asks are always open :-)

(btw ur ask totally made my day!!!!)

#heart hollow #max speaks #asks #oc #oc writing #original writing #original characters #ocs #original character #writers on tumblr #tumblr writers #writeblr #writblr

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aeoki · 1 month

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Tri-Lights - The Tower: Chapter 3

Location: Cafe Characters: Sora, Natsume, Tsumugi & Madara

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< Ten minutes later. >

Madara: One hot coffee, please!

Man, it’s been quite cold recently. One cannot miss out on hot drinks in this season ♪

Tsumugi: Thank you for coming, Mikejima-kun.

Who would have thought you’d actually be nearby. It’s great we were able to meet up so quickly.

Madara: Yeah. I didn’t think I’d get a call on my way home from shopping, either.

I was really busy at the end of the year last year, so I was enjoying my rare time off.

I’ve brought gifts for my roommates as well, of course. Sora-san, it’s a bit early but please take this ♪

Sora: Ohh, the socks look so warm. Thank you so much!

Madara: Hehe. I figured they’d look great on you. Socks are always a must-have, right?

Sora: HiHi~♪ That’s true – Sora will wear them tomorrow ♪

Tsumugi: Hehe. See, Natsume-kun? Wasn’t it the right move to call Mikejima-kun?

Natsume: I have zero intentions of falling for that obvious bribiNG.

Madara: Natsume-san, you’re quite harsh towards me sometimes. You can open your heart more when you’re with me, you know? ♪

Natsume: I’m making sure I’m doing the bare minimum at the very least, thouGH.

ActualLY, “Double Face” has been getting along pretty well with CosPro recently, rigHT? I don’t think you can be trustED.

Madara: How absurd. That’s one big misunderstanding.

It’s true I’m part of both “MaM” and “Double Face” but my agency is NewDi. And that’s precisely why I’ve come to lend a hand seeing as “Switch” is in a predicament ♪

Natsume: I wonder if that’s how you truly feel on the insiDE…

WeLL, there’s a reason why you were called to come heRE, so I’ll stop with the complainTS.

AnywAY, you’ve heard why you’re here from Senpai, rigHT?

Madara: Yeah. “Switch” has received a collaboration offer from a sports fashion company and…

Since I’ve got experience being in a sports club, you want some advice, right?

I don’t know if the things I say will be of help to you, but feel free to ask me anything!

Tsumugi: Thank you. Then there’s something I’d like to ask right away.

The company told us they didn’t want magic or fantasy, but something "realistic that refines yourself and makes you shine”.

How would you specifically express that?

Madara: Hmm… Refining yourself, huh. That’s a tall order.

Sora: Yes. That’s why we’re in a pickle~

Natsume: BesidES, what have you been even doiNG? Being wrapped around the other party’s finger by their vague words is something that happens a lot in overseas festivals, righT?

Madara: In my case, I live by the phrase, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do”. I get through with the mindset of going along with the other person’s flow.

Natsume: MeaniNG, you don’t think about anythiNG.

Madara: Well, that’s one way of putting it.

But festivals aren’t something to be enjoyed with logic. It’s the same with performing – there’s the logical part to it, but what’s important at the end of the day is the emotions.

You must dive in first yourself if you’re to bring those emotions out of people. I think what will capture their heart the most is showing them that you’re doing your best.

Tsumugi: I see~ In other words, we should also sweat it out like sports players.

A sport that’s possible in winter… a marathon, I suppose?

Natsume: WhAT? Why a marathON?

Tsumugi: Hehehe. I’m good at long-distance running ♪

I’m actually pretty good at doing things at a steady pace~ I can end up at an unexpectedly nice rank when I just keep on running.

I think they call it a runner’s high? Sometimes, I do end up collapsing and have to be carried to the infirmary once I pass the top ranks, but I’m confident in my running abilities ♪

Natsume: Times are different nOW… You should tell someone or cry out if you’re having a hard tiME. I guess that’s one setback of our current educatiON.

ActualLY, if we’re just supposed to sweat it oUT, then wouldn’t our normal practice sessions be enouGH?

We’d probably catch a cold if we ran in this cold weathER.

Madara: Oh? …Natsume-san, could it be that you don’t enjoy exercising?

Sora: HuHu~ Master prefers staying indoors so it can’t be helped, though ♪

Natsume: UgH… you’re saying I’m an introvert who prefers the indoors toO…?

I just don’t like things such as perseverance or racES – It’s not like I hate exercisiNG.

It’s not a good habit to sort people into grouPS, Sora. It’s “Switch’s” goal to make everyone happy regardless of who they are, rigHT?

Tsumugi: That’s right. It’s fine even if you prefer the indoors! That’s why, Natsume-kun, you should also be more confident in yourself and challen–

Natsume: ĐłɆ.

Tsumugi: Oof!

Madara: Ohh. That was a superb backhand blow.

Natsume-san, there’s no use complaining, you know?

Your mission this time is to refine yourself through sports. I think “Switch’s” reputation will be wounded if you don’t confront it.

Natsume: I’ve already prepared for it mentalLY. But there are plenty of other sports that are more elegant, aren’t theRE?

For exampLE…

Oh, I knOW. Why don’t we go ice skating after thIS?

Sora: Ice skating…!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

#tri-lights

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skzoologist · 2 months

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The weather has been very uh,,,flaky ig is the word I'll use this time round 💀 we had a day where the day started off at 32°F (0°C) with frost all over the grass and cars and then jumped up to 65°F (18°C) so that was an experience 🧍 but I'm doing my best to stay warm! Bundling up in many many layers <3 glad to hear that the weather where you are has been nice!!

Thank you 😭😭 I wish you luck in your classes when they start up again!!

Ooh you danced too? 👀 What did you dance? :O

The festival was great! But it was really loud and there were lots of ppl which kinda got overwhelming after a bit ^^;

I think I caught it from my friend who stayed over a couple nights last week 😭 cuz no one else around me in any of my classes had any symptoms 😭😭

I'm close enough to my parents that they decided to just deliver me a bunch of food and medicine when I found out 😭 I'm mostly fine now, just still a bit congested and coughing a bit although my throat still doesn't feel all that great 🧍I should be mostly fine by the end of the week though,,,hopefully 🤞

I hope that the docs figure it out and that you feel better soon 😭😭 glad to hear that Luna's surgery went well and that she's feeling better! Also happy to hear your family member is recovering well!!

Don't worry ab updating Unfamiliarity, Jinnie 😭, we understand!! 💕

- 🐹

Oh yeah, these big jumps in the weather are deadly, we just don't start from that cold here. Not going to lie, I wish it was a bit colder, I miss being able to bundle up in a blanket without cooking myself alive...

Yeah, well, I need to succeed in my entrance exam first that is probably in may 💀 But thank you.

Ah, well, at a very young age I danced traditional dances, but it wasn't my style so I changed to group dances, where we also danced some tango, waltz, these type of traditional dances. But after a few years our teacher got really strict and competitive, so we all left the group collectively, since it was no fun anymore. And after that, I haven't danced, because I have no one to dance with and my anxious self doesn't wanna go alone. Even though it would do my dying body good too...

That is something I dislike about festivals, the crowd and how overwhelming they can get. Glad you still had fun though!

Oh! Glad that your parents are close enough to take care of you. Still, take it easy, this thing is hard to get rid of.

Yeah, well, I've been living with this for a year now almost, docs always end up saying it's allergy or stress or just my nerves. And then I'm supposed to act normal and polite after that 😃 Anyway, yes, at least the others in my family are doing good now.

Eh, do you guys though? I truly know how frustrating it is when a fic you enjoy goes on a long hiatus, especially when the author is still alive and responding, just not writing. I originally wanted to finish the story last year, write the remaining chapters while I slowly post the written ones here. That was nearly a year ago...

#🐹 anon #potat writes back

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sallymae32 · 11 months

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Story that 3 people wanted to see: From Rags to royalty

Rae Meadows was from a small island called Esmard Cay, a place not too far away from Yami. They often went fishing together, which ended up washing them up on the beach of the Clover Kingdom. She was short, but her emerald green eyes were only made brighter by her waist-length pitch-black hair. She may have been chubby, but she still had curves in all the right places. She was known for having no filter, being sarcastic, and speaking her mind. She wasn’t concerned about her manners.

Rae and Yami had been in a relationship since their teens. It didn’t take long for Yami to become the captain of his squad, which led to Rae as his vice-captain. She helped train the squad members, especially Magna since she also had fire mana. Eventually, the entire squad just started calling her mom, which she found sweet.

Yami and Rae attended a few get-togethers with the other captains, and he thoroughly enjoyed her making fun of the royals, especially Nozel Silva and his stupid braid. Occasionally this set the Silva siblings into a rage, and they almost attacked Rae, but when she amped up her mana, they quickly walked away.

Rae is well acquainted with all of the Magic Knight captains, but the only one that doesn’t drive her crazy is Fuegoleon Vermillion. While she is still very much in love with Yami, who would also hold a piece of her heart, she couldn’t fight the attraction she felt when with the Crimson Lion King. He was so unjudgemental. He didn’t care about her status, about her being a foreigner. None of it seemed to matter to him. In fact, he enjoyed making fun of them as much as she and Yami did. It sounded so odd coming out of the mouth of a royal, let alone one as straight-faced and serious Crimson Lion Kin. He was curious about her mana, though he never tried to get her to switch squads after seeing her strength and control over fire. She could rival even the Vermillions with a little more training.

She had gotten to know him very well over the years since she attended all of the meetings that Yami didn’t want to attend, which meant she went to almost everything, even the star-awarding festival once the Black Bulls were back at the bottom of the chart. She was privy to information she shouldn’t know since she sat in on captains’ meetings. While it was apparent that most of the captains happened to hate her, she found Fuegoleon easy to talk to and enjoyed their conversations which could range from non-confidential missions to their squauds’ shenanigans. While it made some captains uncomfortable, they all knew Yami would tell her everything anyway. They often complained about all of the duties that came with being a captain, knowing she did most of the office work while Yami sat on his ass reading a newspaper and smoking like a chimney.

“Has Nozel always had that braid? It’s fucking ridiculous! How can anyone take him seriously? Can he even see with that damn thing in his face, or is he just really good at guessing where his opponent is?” Rae laughed one night.

“Believe it or not, he grew out his bangs when we were teenagers to have that braid. I believe his exact words were, ‘Now no woman will ever say no to me.’”

“I call bullshit!”

“I swear! That is exactly what happened!”

“What about that shitty attitude? I know it’s not fully genetic since Noelle is actually a decent person.”

“My rival and his siblings do have very…difficult…personalities,” Fuegoleon

sympathized.

“Oh please, him trying to be your rival is like Asta trying to use magic.”

“What is that troublemaker up to these days?” He asked, dodging the compliment.

“Same old same old. Taking on too many missions, constantly getting hurt, and busting his ass to clean the house when he’s not allowed to go on missions. The boy is going to work himself into the ground before he’s our age.”

“How did the last dungeon mission go?”

“Very few casualties. The squad is FINALLY learning how to work together better. What about your little cubs? How’s Leo doing?”

“My cubs,” he said, rolling his eyes,” Are doing great, training hard. As for Leo, his talent is almost on par with my own. A few more years, and he’ll be ready to be vice-captain.”

“Good to hear. I always liked that little scamp the few times I’ve seen him. That kid deserves it. Hey! See if you can talk your sister into taking me on her hotsprings trip this year! I’ve always wanted to go!”

“I’ll be sure to pass the message along.”

“What message?” his big sister asked as she rounded the corner.

“I was just asking him to let you know I’d like to go on one of your infamous hot springs trips. The Bulls wouldn’t stop raging about it a few years back.”

“Consider yourself invited!”

“Thanks, Mereolona! I look forward to it!”

“It’s not like you’ll be hard to find. You’ll probably already be living here by then, saving him from marrying that bitch from the Heart Kingdom.”

Before you or Fuegoleon could object to her statement, the subject was quickly changed, and Rae returned to the Black Bulls hide-out.

After attending a meeting where some of their squad members were getting promoted, Yami started to get worried about how well Rae got along with the Lion King, his subconscious telling him that the royal would take the love of his life. When they returned, Yami practically pounced on her the moment walked into the living room, pinning her up against the wall. He kissed her deeply, then down her neck, physically trying to express his love since he wasn’t so good with words. After getting a few comments from people in the area, he growled and threw Rae over his shoulder.

“Leave us the hell alone for the rest of the night. Anything you hear, you keep your mouth shut about or leave,” he told their squad. When they reached their room, Rae was thrown unceremoniously onto the bed before her clothes were practically ripped from her body. Yami continued kissing down her neck before he started playing with her large breasts. He took turns on each hard nipple before running his hands up and down her body while he looked into her eyes. She smiled at him, knowing this was how he was showing her he loved her. He grinned down at her before moving her properly on the bed. He quickly disappeared between her legs, eating her out, one of his favorite things to do.

“Damn, baby, you’re already soaked…I hope it's for me and not that damn stuck-up Lion King.”

“It's always for you, Yami. You’re the only one who can make me feel this good,” Rae groaned as Yami licked a long strip up her pussy before focusing on sucking on her clit. He didn’t stop lapping at her pussy until he needed air.

“You always taste so damn good,” he said before diving back down like she was the last meal he would ever have. It didn’t take long before she was moaning his name and pulling on his hair.

“Fuck Yami! I’m gonna cum!” Rae yelled after a few minutes after his digits had joined the party

“That’s it, baby girl, cum all over my face,” he said, doubling his efforts. Soon, Rae was granting his wish while screaming his name. “God, you taste amazing when you cum…bet the Lion King would never do this for you.”

Rae put a complete halt on sex for the rest of the night after that.

“Why do you worry about him so much, Yami?” “Because he’s going to steal you away from me! I saw you being all fuckin’ buddy-buddy with him when Luck, Grey, and Magna got promoted!”

“For fucks sake, I go to all the damn meetings at the capitol for you, and I need someone to talk to! You know those damn things go on forever, and he’s literally the only person there but Julius I get along with! “Then talk to Julius!”

“He’s always too busy! You’re so fucking insecure. We’ve been together since we were 18! Literally TEN YEARS! Do you honestly trust me that little?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s him. I see the way he looks at you, Rae.”

“Well, get your eyes checked because we are nothing but FRIENDS, Yami Sukehiro. Get the thick head of yours out of your ass and stop being so fucking paranoid. Hell, the two of you would actually get along great if you’d give him half a chance.”

“Why would I give that all high and mighty bastard a chance? He’s just like all of those other assholes.”

Rae scoffed at that. “No, Yami, he’s not. Why are we even having this conversation? It’s ridiculous. You know me better than this.”

“You think I haven’t heard the rumors? I’ve heard that the two of you are awfully chummy at meetings.”

“Then start going to them yourself! It’s not my job! Damn it, Yami, why are we even having this conversation?”

“We’re having this conversation because I’m a paranoid, jealous asshole who doesn’t want to lose the love of his fucking life.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Yami unless you keep treating me like I’m cheating on you for being friends with some other guy.”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

LET ME KNOW IF I SHOULD KEEP GOING

#yami sukehiro x reader #fuegoleon x reader #drama #smut #thickthigssavelives #fanfiction

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apocalypticavolition · 9 months

Text

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 3: The Peddler

Welcome back to my reread of The Wheel of Time with all sorts of hideous spoilers you should be running away from if you don't want to know them. Run like your britches are on fire, or I guess the opposite of that since if you're on fire you should probably stop.

Anyway, this chapter begins with the Dragon's Fang symbol, which typically symbolizes male channeling, Dragons real and false, and sometimes Darkfriends in these early books. This time around it's probably mostly about the news that's come into town.

The man on the wagon was Padan Fain, a pale, skinny fellow with gangly arms and a massive beak of a nose. Fain, always smiling and laughing as if he knew a joke that no one else knew, had driven his wagon and team into Emond’s Field every spring for as long as Rand could remember.

It is just a wee bit unfortunate that Fain's got the Jewish-coded nose situation, what with him being a merchant and also having a low-key obsession with murdering the current incarnation of Jesus.

Also the joke is he hates you all and hopes you die.

Fain, however, spoke freely if often teasingly, and spun out the telling, making a show to rival a gleeman. He enjoyed being the center of attention, strutting around like an under-sized rooster, with every eye on him.

It's probably this character defect that explains both why he fell to the Shadow and rose so quickly through the ranks to end up a lowkey Forsaken type. Dude probably heard that saying the Dark One's name got his attention and started chanting it under his breath wherever he went to the point that a Darkfriend had to be dispatched just to get him to STOP.

...his friendliness had always been of a peculiarly distant kind, backslapping without ever getting close.

Just practicing for the backstab, that Fain.

He'd be a great villain if in addition to sidestepping fate itself he didn't end up sidestepping the plot. Guess in a series all about fate, doing one is necessarily doing the other. But that's something else to get around to later.

“I had been thinking you were going to stay out on the farm through the whole Festival,” Perrin Aybara shouted at Rand over the clamor.

It's Perrin. I'd be excited about this but... Meh. He's probably my least favorite of the six main characters. I don't hate him but... Well, we'll get there.

Nice of him to finally show up though. (Nice of the show to put him in the mix right away.)

He could easily have pushed through the throng, but that was not his way. He picked his path carefully, offering apologies to people who had only half a mind to notice anything but the peddler. He made the apologies anyway, and tried not to jostle anyone as he worked through the crowd to Rand and Mat.

Note here that Perrin's way is "Do something in the least efficient way possible while offering up a lot of performative bullshit that does absolutely no one any good and is completely ignored anyway." We'll be coming back to this in book four if not sooner.

Rand’s last words exploded into utter silence, catching the peddler with an arm raised dramatically and his mouth open. Everybody turned to stare at Rand.

I dunno, the "protagonist accidentally shouts something that everyone hears due to an unexpected silence" shtick works better when it's genuinely hurtful or embarrassing. You'd think a bro telling someone "We'll talk later," would be the exact kinda shit you'd expect to hear right as it goes quiet at this kinda shindig.

His friends shifted uncomfortably, too. It had only been the year before that Fain had taken notice of them for the first time, acknowledging them as men. Fain did not usually have time for anyone too young to buy a good deal of things off his wagon.

Considering that none of the three of you have the means or reason to buy a good deal of stuff off of the wagon even now, I suspect Fain's interest is based a lot more in the whole hunting you down thing.

“What could be worse than wolves killing sheep, and men?” Cenn Buie demanded. Others muttered in support.

This is a very low-key thing to note in the Jordan Gender Jamboree, but as you'd expect for someone of his age, and not as you might expect for a land that is supposed to be gender neutral and might even be a bit pro-woman (nowhere near as much as real life is pro-man though), the gender neutral term for a person is "man".

“It’s evil times! No one claiming to be the Dragon Reborn for twenty years, and now three in the last five years. Evil times! Look at the weather!”

Gonna be six (add Taim, the unnamed False Dragon of Haddon Mirk, and Rand himself) in as many years in just a few months. Everyone except the dude who confused the DR with the DO is being pretty reasonable despite the general sense that they're being a bit panicky. Life's about to suck for you people.

“I didn’t hear Fain say this was a false Dragon. Did you? Use your eyes! Where are the crops that should be knee high or better? Why is it still winter when spring should be here a month?”

Again, Cenn Buie isn't quite as wrong as the narrative tries to play him off as. Logain ain't the real deal but he and the weather are portents of the end of the age.

A stunned silence fell. Rand looked at his friends. Perrin seemed to be seeing things he did not like, but Mat still looked excited.

This is dramatic irony because of course Perrin will be the kinder friend when it turns out Rand can channel and Mat will be a little racist about it. Though Perrin does dip out sooner while Mat stays to be helpful as long as he can.

“Enough of that from you, boy.” Cenn shook a gnarled fist in Ewin’s face. “Show a proper respect and leave this to your elders. Get away with you!”

And here's where Cenn veers back into the unequestionable dick category. Ewin's also got a point, and the narrative and Moiraine will be answering his question ("Why would a man channel if the taint ensures a fate worse than death?") soon.

“A party of them has ridden south from Tar Valon. Since he can wield the Power, none but Aes Sedai can defeat him, for all the battles they fight, or deal with him once he’s defeated. If he is defeated.”

And this right here is the driving force behind all of the societies of the Third Age (and one of the subtle indications that the AoL wasn't all that great, because they're actually mid-tier in their answer and below the modern west): how do you deal with channelers? Sadly, most societies chose to answer with, "Not very well."

That was Wit Congar; he hunched his shoulders at the stares some of the others gave him, but he held his ground.

Wit's priorities check out. Logain's in Ghealdan, which is close but not so close as to be an immediate threat. Daise is right here in town and she's already pissed and she wants her fucking pins.

Aes Sedai and wars and false Dragons: those were the stuff of stories told late at night in front of the fireplace, with one candle making strange shapes on the wall and the wind howling against the shutters. On the whole, he believed he would rather have blizzards and wolves.

This isn't quite dramatic irony because on the whole Rand's opinion never changes. Dude wants blizzards and wolves instead of the crap he has to deal with the whole damn time.

“Not if it means Aes Sedai here, either,” Rand added. “Or have you forgotten who caused the Breaking? The Dragon may have started it, but it was Aes Sedai who actually broke the world.”

Way to pass the buck, Mr. Dragon.

But I think a lot of the fandom forgets about this misconception when they're confused about why people are so mistrustful of Aes Sedai. The average person doesn't fully parse that "dude Aes Sedai went crazy and fucked the planet," they miss that first word and so in many ways Tar Valon is a potential powder keg in their eyes.

“What kind of need would be great enough that we’d want the Dragon to save us from it?” Rand mused. “As well ask for help from the Dark One.”

Answering your own question there, aren't you?

“Burn me!” Mat growled. “I’m only telling you what the guard said.”

Sorry Mat, I have to side with Perrin here and I never like not taking your side, but the last few years have taught me pretty well that people who repeat bullshit are just as much of a problem as the bullshitters.

Mat’s grin broadened. “It was last spring, just before the cutworm got into his fields and nobody else’s. Right before everybody in his house came down with yelloweye fever. I heard him do it. He still says he doesn’t believe, but whenever I ask him to name the Dark One now, he throws something at me.”

It's rough being an atheist in a world where at least one sort-of deity is perfectly happy to fuck you up, isn't it Bili?

Nynaeve al’Meara stepped into their huddle, the dark braid pulled over her shoulder almost bristling with anger.

Nynaeve! <3

It's going to be so wonderful when you put the sticks down and start beating people with the power of your soul instead, though. I can't really approve of a society where anyone, man or woman, is allowed to walk around beating people, even if it's someone as wonderful as Nynaeve is going to be.

Egwene stood a few paces behind the Wisdom, watching intently. Of a height with Nynaeve, and with the same dark coloring, she could at that moment have been a reflection of Nynaeve’s mood, arms crossed beneath her breasts, mouth tight with disapproval. The hood of her soft gray cloak shaded her face, and her big brown eyes held no laughter now.

And the last of the EF5 appears! Egwene's a really interesting character because of how well she throws herself into whatever culture she's in, so it's only natural that she starts out aping Nynaeve perfectly.

At the best of times he was never very nimble with his tongue when talking to any of the village girls, not like Perrin...

It's the first appearance of the fandom's favorite running gag. All three of the boys are absolutely convinced they're the worst at talking to girls. I think the narrative wants to suggest that they're all mostly alright at it except under big pressures, but I take a different tack: they are all equally awful at it and so wool-headed they don't understand that their best buds are just as bad as they are.

"...If I know them, they’re asking all the wrong questions and none of the right ones. It will take the Women’s Circle to find out anything useful."

This is taking the battle of the sexes really almost too far just because I can't possibly understand what questions Nynaeve thinks are wrong or unasked.

“Will you dance with me tomorrow?” That was not what he had meant to say. He did want to dance with her, but at the same time he wanted nothing so little as the uncomfortable way he was sure to feel while he was with her. The way he felt right then.

It's too abrupt a segue, he's lucky Egwene likes teasing him or she'd never have said yes.

Somehow, it had never occurred to him that she would reach marriageable age at the same time that he did.

It is pretty odd! Egwene is two years younger than he is and generally the sorts of societies where girls are eligible younger instead of at the same time are patriarchal ones where they're traded around like livestock. With livestock, when dowries are involved.

A proper egalitarian society wouldn't be rushing girls into adulthood and marriage sooner, especially since at 16 plenty of them will still be physically maturing. (And note that even at 18 both sexes are still mentally maturing.)

Egwene gave an exasperated sigh. “Well, maybe I’m strange, too. Maybe I want to see some of the places I hear about in the stories. Have you ever thought of that?”

Since I'm going to give Jordan lots of gender-related shit, I will give him props for having a story where the boys all really wanna stay home and not deal with epic adventures while the main girl is desperate to set out, see some interesting sights, and make something of herself in the process. It's a good and universal motivation and more fictional women need it!

“Of course I have. I daydream sometimes, but I know the difference between daydreams and what’s real.”

Not for long you don't! Of course, Egwene won't either due to her T'A'R habits. Really, by the end of the series both of you will have come to the independent conclusion that the world of dreams is the baseline, true reality while the physical world you inhabit is just a collective daydream everyone's having.

“That wasn’t what I meant. I was talking about me. Egwene?”

No Rand, you definitely were talking about both of you. You really are bad with the ladies and in this fight Egwene is not being silly at all to take offense to your words. Maybe you should see if Tam can buy a dictionary off of Fain while he's here so you can perfect your rhetoric.

“So he believed you,” Rand said, but Perrin shrugged.

Luhhan never gets the attention that Tam does, but he's definitely a good father figure. Bonus points to him for not ever dying or nearly dying.

“And you’ve been spreading these tales. Sometimes you have no sense, Rand al’Thor. The winter has been frightening enough without you going about scaring the children.”

One of Egwene's more unfortunate character flaws is her tendency to see the worst in all of her friends whenever the opportunity arises. I'm probably going to discuss this too because I have very complicated feelings about her - when she's aces she's aces but... Well, being snippy at Rand here is not the worst of what's to come. Frankly, Rand doesn't even get her at her absolute worst.

...the door of the inn opened and a man with shaggy white hair came hurrying out as if pursued.

Hooray for Thom! With his arrival, we've seen the entirety of the main TEotW party, though there's still several more main characters this book is going to introduce (and really we don't stop meeting mains until like book 9). Sadly, this is the end of the chapter, so I'll be stopping here.

Next time: Queen Elizabeth II! Sally Ride! Advice columnists no one remembers anymore! Nuclear annihilation! Stuff happening contemporaneously with the narrative instead of occurring some ten thousand years prior!

#let's read #wheel of time #the eye of the world #wot spoilers #wheel of time spoilers #rand al'thor #tam al'thor #mat cauthon #perrin aybara #egwene al'vere #nynaeve al'meara #padan fain #thom merrilin

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suriel · 1 year

Text

The Story of Loki and Suriel

A long time ago, in a galaxy known as Southern California, a girl met a boy. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did, and it led to thousands of days of love and tears and adventure and music and laughter and sadness and dogs and cats and pain and Buggs and more love.

This is our story.

Look, I’d love to start with the good stuff, the festivals, the European jaunt, the outrageous parties and club nights and some mind-blowingly amazing things, but you need to know how it started.

For reasons too boring to go into, I didn’t go to college right out of high school, but instead, enrolled as a freshman at the ripe old age of 23. I felt ancient, ridiculous, out of place. Excruciatingly awkward. But I needed to do something with my life, and public colleges were unbelievably cheap in the long-ago time of 1990. And so there I was. I had only vague degree ideas, and so chose classes I’d like: photography, music appreciation, and a couple more classes to round things out. I wanted to take French, which I’d taken in high school & enjoyed, but the class was full SADFACE.

Happily, there existed the petition system, and it worked like this: If you didn’t show up to the first day of class, you were automatically dropped, and your place given to petitioners, in the order they signed the petition sheet. So I rocked up to French first thing, put my name down, and sure enough, by the end of class, there were several no-shows & I got in.

The class was full of teenagers, one much older woman, and some older students more my-age-ish. And in that group, a boy. Shock of California-white hair, nice arms, blue-blue-blue eyes, full lower lip. Definitely on the punk/goth/alternative spectrum, not quite polar opposite to my suburban-late-80s-tinged-with-metal look. Anyway. He looked interesting. And cute.

Our French class followed one that always ran over, so every day we queued in the hall. And one day, I found myself in the queue next to the boy, and as the result of a pep talk from my stepmonster of all people, I talked to the boy. Opened my mouth and said words, but because Awkward AF, what I said was, “I’m mugging you and taking your jacket.” (It was a fantastic grey blazer, of a type I’d been on the lookout for. How convenient that the boy had arrived with one!)

He blinked. “OK.” He probably shrugged, too, but class went in and that was the end of that. I basically writhed in an agony of embarrassment the entire class.

It was a long class, 3 hours, broken into 2 bits with a break in between, during which a loose group of us would get snacks in the quad. As we exited the room that day, I felt something on my shoulders. The boy had draped his jacket there. Confused and awkward, I took it off. “I can’t take this, you’d never see it again.”

Curse you, memory, that I can’t remember what he said or how he looked. Ageing fucking sucks, and chronic conditions that rob one of memories suck even worse.

I gave back the jacket, but we bantered the entire break, finally landing on natural disasters. I’m from Chicago, so I favor tornadoes, that you generally see coming. The boy preferred earthquakes - pure chaos, happening anywhen, anywhere, who knows! I’d lived in SoCal for 7 years and not felt a single one. Like I’d been in my car for the Northridge quake, and had to hear about it on the news.

So French was my last class of the day, and I rolled home with a neighbor friend who’d gone back to college with me. We stopped at 7-11 for cigarettes, probably, and while I was browsing the aisles for a snack, I started feeling really weird, dizzy and strange. Looking up, I watched the owner of the 7-11 leap his counter and run into the parking lot, along with half the store.

It was a fucking earthquake.

Well, at least this gave me something to talk to the boy about. Berate the boy about. Perhaps punch lightly in the upper arms about.

So I did.

And slowly, over the course of a Southern California spring, the boy and I became friends.

His name was Loki. He had been a jock whilst also being a punk. Was a musician. Loved physics. Had turned down the Navy’s nuclear program. He told me about Douglas Adams, Monty Python, entropy.

I can’t remember if I had anything good to share about anything other than books at that point. Personal anecdotes maybe. We’d traveled a good deal when I was growing up so maybe that? I can’t imagine it was earth-shattering, I was 23. And sheltered, and awkward af, and such a nerd.

Even with all that, we started hanging out outside of school. Met at the mall once, because SoCal in the 90s. Lunches, walks, browsing the little shops around the college. And then he asked me to go clubbing with him.

My friends, I have explained that I was into metal, but also listened to KROQ on the sly and was already slightly familiar with alternative in general and Lullaby in particular, but my first goth club was the very underground Helter Skelter.

Y’all. Y’ALL. I was entranced.

My goth cherry was well and truly popped and the flowering had begun. The first song I danced to was Big Hollow Man. I felt ridiculous dancing alone, but no one else was dancing with anyone else -- nor dancing like anyone else -- and I started to relax. A bit. About the club, not about anything else, like I was in some skeevy corner of Hollywood at a club that didn’t even open until 11, but I was there with Loki and that was ok. Squirmy but ok.

So I’d been living, since finishing high school, with my boyfriend/fiance and his mom, but things were meh, and that’s all you need to know about that relationship. I was honestly better friends with his mom -- like, to this very day -- but because I was living with them on the cheap, and didn’t have a lot of dollars because I wasn’t working, I felt a little stuck. Also this was my first long relationship & breakups are hard. So I sort of cheated. Emotionally I cheated like whoa. Physically less so but yeah. Oh, and his mom knew, had met Loki & liked him, so there I was.

And every time I went somewhere with Loki, I was an anxious mess. Worried about being seen with him, being caught, being found out. Stomach churning, hands shaking, sweaty palms levels of anxiety. His band played a show on Earth Day, and I went to see them, but a friend of my BF’s mom was there and I panicked and fled.

Despite that, there were some good moments. He took me on a picnic to Corona Del Mar, and we had our first kiss on the old lifeguard station that faces the harbor. (Fun fact: I’d taken a pic of that very stand on a whale watch cruise we did in high school just a few years before.)

I can’t remember any details, but as the end of term neared, things were coming to a head, and my dad provided my escape route: He offered to pay for me to attend university -- yay! But -- in the swamp -- boo! Except-- what better way to end my relationship with HS BF than to move a thousand miles away? Perfection! Except-- I’d have to leave Loki, too.

I told him the deal. We’d met at a mall near his house, and by the end, we were driving across the street to a travel agency, where he booked a flight to the swamp for August.

So my mom & brother rocked up with a U-Haul and a trailer for my CRX, and we drove through the desert southwest and into the swampy south in June in cars with no air conditioning. How did I survive? Bauhaus.

A few days before I was set to leave, I had one last lunch with Loki, a picnic (what else?) on his lunch break. He gave me his precious copy of 1979-1983 Side 2 on cassette, kissed me when I drove him back to work after.

So I rolled across the country learning the words to Kick in the Eye, appreciating the Hollow Hills of east Texas, singing along to She’s in Parties, Spirit, Crowds. It was my first goth tape and I fucking loved it. Soaked it in for a thousand miles.

(When we arrived in the swamp, my stepbrother and his girlfriend were there to welcome me and take me for food. I offered to drive, but said, “Hope you won’t mind my music.” “What is it?” Donna asked. “Bauhaus?” “LOVE ‘EM!” And so I met my Swamp Bestie.)

School was school. I was again alone and awkward as fuck and did not make friends at school, but that was ok because after dinner that first night, Donna had taken me to the bar where the cool kids hung out. I had gotten well hammered on one Flaming Dr Pepper and had had to be driven home by Peter, destined to be Loki’s best man at our wedding. Funny how things work out. Anyway, I met many of my future gang in that first 24 hours.

But this is about Loki and I, so let’s fast-forward to August. He flew into Baton Rouge, an hour away, and he spent the entire drive back touching my arm, nuzzling on my neck, staring at my profile lit by headlights on the highway. We got back to the house, up to my room, and suddenly Things Were Happening and I was Not Ready but we pressed on. This I remember. The dark room, inhaling the scent of him, the satin feel of his skin, the muscles in his back, that ass so help me gods. It did not go well. It was -- I was so awkward. I misunderstood a suggestion, blurted out a boundary in the most awkward possible phrasing -- like, it became a catchphrase -- and he laughed, but in a sweet way, and held me until I fell asleep. The first time I’d relaxed with his arms around me. It felt so fucking good.

One day during his visit, we went to Avery Island, the Jungle Gardens. We got out of the car at the only place you’re allowed to (because alligators), at the Buddha, and sat on his hill, leaning against his glass case, watching a storm roll in. We kissed in the rain, and he told me he loved me. I said it right back.

At the airport. Can’t see for tears. “Ask me to stay,” he said in a low voice. I was shocked, taken aback. “I can’t do that -- this is the swamp.” I couldn’t subject anyone to this. Heat. Humidity. Racism. Terrible roads. My stepmonster.

And so he left. Got in a plane and flew away, whilst I drove home sobbing.

After I moved away in June, he wrote to me literally every day. A physical letter. With a stamp and everything. Usually a dinosaur stamp, too, because dinosaur stamps are cooler than boring regular stamps. Every day. Sometimes there were packages full of little trinkets. Pretty stones. Small gadgets. Mysterious machines.

After his visit, the letters missed a day or two here or there. Maybe three. The packages stopped coming. We didn’t talk on the phone a lot because long distance charges (kids, ask your parents), but when we did talk, I asked him to come for winter break. He finally agreed. I bought his ticket with money I didn't really have.

This time he flew into New Orleans, two hours away. We drove home straight away again, but it wasn’t the same as August, not the same at all. We spent the first night in a sweaty tangle, but turns out that was because he had food poisoning from airplane food. He spent the first day hugging the toilet.

We ended his trip with a day in New Orleans before his flight. I showed him all my favorite places in the French Quarter. We ate bread pudding with bourbon sauce, and found a bar with Bauhaus on the jukebox, and had amazing shower sex, and did not talk at all about anything important. At the airport, he told me he’d met a girl, and I can’t remember anything after that, except that now I had twice the drive home & I still couldn’t see for tears.

Of course I was heartbroken, but I was also young and hot with a circle of young and hot friends and in a place where a party or a club or a festival is happening all the time. It’s like alcohol was the religion & I was running for High Priestess. I had no end of fun, while also pining heartbrokenly for Loki. Much terrible poetry was written.

I’ll have words about my sojourn in the swamp later, perhaps, because it was crammed full of adventures, but let’s fast forward two years.

It is the summer of 1992. Loki and his hag have moved to the desert, because that’s where she grew up & she wanted to go back. Also it’s cheaper than SoCal.

Meanwhile, I have dropped out of university and am now living with Peter (more stories!), and Hurricane Andrew is bearing down upon us. It is my first hurricane & it sounds like it’s gonna be bad. We gather supplies, tape the windows, fill the bathtubs and get hammered. I call Loki.

“Hurricane Andrew is coming. I’m probably going to die. I still love you.”

I pass out. I awaken in the morning to horrific destruction -- everywhere but Peter’s neighborhood. I lived!

Nothing more is said.

Until …

October.

Loki calls me. He is hammered.

“The Hag’s been fucking all her exes. I’ve kicked her out. Come live with me?”

Two weeks later I was in the desert.

#the Story of Loki and Suriel #The Beginning #it me #gnu my sweetie #christ I'm posting it #my heart rate monitor is LOSING ITS MIND

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