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#i feel like a princess with birds and bees feeling safe around me
th0tcrates · 3 years
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My new friend comes every day now, and recognizes my "peanuts are here!" sound
I swear it flies by and flashes it's tail when the rail is empty of nuts
I'm trying to figure out a way to develop an 'I'm still out here' sound so I've been using soft little clicks, a few of the birds come down to the rail when I'm out there lately anyhow
I think another Jay is getting curious, I've seen it come most days this week with a funny tuft on one wing
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weelittleweasley · 3 years
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my girl (f.w.)
prompt: you always knew fred would be a great dad and every day he exceeds your expectations
pairing: dad! fred x mom! reader
warnings: pregnancy, hospitals, children (yes, children is a warning), mild language, suggestion and brief mention of sex, thunderstorm, fear of thunder/rain.
word count: 6.2k
author’s note: THIS BITCH SO LONG IM SO SORRY this is the last installment of the 60s writing challenge!! thank you to everyone who has tuned in!!
taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @kaseyrose96-blog​ @hufflepuff5972 @valwritesx @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley​ @amourtentiaa @sweeterthansammy​ @gryffindcrghost​ @wand3ringr0s3​
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It was laughable; the way Fred stared at your large pregnant belly with eyes full of anticipation, hands placed on either sides of it, waiting for your child to kick at his hands. You giggled as he gently whispered to your protruding stomach, “Come on, little one. It’s your daddy. Give us a little kick, yeah?” Your stomach remained still as he lightly groaned, only making you laugh. “This child already likes keeping me on my wit’s end,�� he grumbled before kissing your belly. “I’m just teasing,” he whispered again to the bump. “I love you so much.”
You brush your fingers through Fred’s hair, him sighing as you do. Fred had been so darling over the past nine months of your pregnancy. He found more staff for the joke shoppe to take over the early morning shifts and the night shifts so he could spend those hours taking care of you, helping around the house, and preparing for the baby’s arrival. You were always Fred’s number one priority, but that was set in stone after you became pregnant. He would literally drop anything if you even murmured that you needed something. Fred would wake up first and get your prenatal vitamins ready for you to drink with a large glass of water, he’d make breakfast, clean the kitchen, and only then would he wake you up. You had to admit, you could get used to living like this. But alas, you were past your due date and the baby was expected any day now.
“She loves you too, Freddie,” you tell him as you prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a better look at your husband who still rubs his hands over your stomach, searching for your unborn baby’s feet.
Fred looks up at you with questioning eyes. “She?” Fred could honestly care less about the sex of his child, as long as the baby was healthy. That’s all he could truly ask for. But secretly, deep down, Fred wanted a little girl, a princess. Someone who could be his princess since he had already found his queen.
You smiled with a shrug, “I have a feeling. I know it’s supposed to be a surprise, but when you know you know, don’t you?”
With that, against the skin of your stomach, pressed against Fred’s hand is two large kicks. Fred’s eyes widen as he sits up, feeling his child kick against his hands as the two of you laugh. Fred smiles wide and says, “Is that a sign?” he stares up at you with excited eyes as you cover your mouth laughing with glee. “Is that right, baby? A little girl?” he whispers to your belly, earning another two strong kicks as the two of you laugh out with delight. “A little princess and a strong one at that!” he cheers. “We’ve got a little football player on our hands, don’t we? Well, too bad, because your daddy is going to teach you all about quidditch.”
-------
The hospital room was quiet, no one daring to disturb the air that surrounded the newborn baby girl that was fast asleep on your chest. Her plump cheeks squished against your bare chest made you and Fred smile with delight. A healthy baby girl born after a brutally long labor, but it was all worth it. You softly kissed the top of her head, making her stir in her sleep. 
You looked over at Fred to see him, gently wipe tears from his eyes as he gazed upon your newborn daughter. In this room, he had everything he’d ever wanted. The sight of your husband looking so lovingly at your daughter made your heart swell as you felt hot tears prick up behind your eyes. Reaching out, you cupped Freddie’s cheek as brushed away with happy tears with your thumb. Freddie looked up at you with eyes so tender and a smile so warm, you giggled out a sob. “She’s perfect,” he quietly spoke to you as you nodded your head in agreement. 
She really was the most precious thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Her button nose and soft features rested upon her gentle skin, tufts of strawberry blonde hair poking out from the cap the hospital dressed her in. Her lips were pink and squished against your chest as small dreaming noises escaped now and again. Your darling little girl, your little flower.
“Daisy,” you spoke softly to Fred as you brushed your daughter’s cheek softly.
The two of you had spoke about what to name the baby for a while, a few names tossed around here and there, but none of them felt right. Until Daisy popped into your head.
Fred nodded his head with a happy smile, “Yeah.” In her sleep, the baby stirred at the sound of Fred’s voice, making him scoot impossibly closer to the hospital bed, leaning close to his daughter. “How do you like that, love bug?” he cooed at the sleeping baby on your chest. “Daisy,” he smiled to himself. “I love you so much. You’re going to give mommy a run for her money,” he joked, making you roll your eyes with a breathy chuckle. Fred looked up at you and placed a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t believe we made something as perfect as she is,” he shakes his head in disbelief. 
You smiled at your husband and sighed. The man before you was so perfect, helplessly in love with you and the child you created. Slowly, you peeled sleeping Daisy off of your chest and handed her over to an eager Fred, scooping her in his arms, cradling the baby close to his chest. Fred cooed down at his baby who slowly fluttered her eyes open, peering her dark eyes, that looked so like Fred’s, up at him. You laid back in the hospital bed, relaxing as you watched Fred murmur to Daisy, speaking gently and kissing her forehead and nose every now and again. As if you couldn’t fall more in love with Fred, watching him become a father was enough to make you fall in love fifty more times. 
Fred rose from the chair he was sat in and started walking around the hospital room, rocking the baby and talking to her about the life she was going to have. “Just wait until Uncle George gets his hands on you,” he whispered as you silently laughed. “Grandma Molly is going to spoil the hell out of you,” he shook his head for his eyes widened and he looked at you. “I shouldn’t curse in front of our baby, should I?” he asks as you shake your head. “Damn it,” he curses again as he winces. “I’ll stop now,” he huffs making you laugh as your eyes feel heavy. The long labor had you exhausted and you had been up with Daisy feeding her and watching her alongside Fred. “Darling,” Fred cooed at you, “get some rest, please. I’ve got Daisy and she’s not due for another feeding for some time. You need to get some rest,” he tells you, walking over to the bed, helping pull the sheets up to cover you as you look up at his handsome face. “I’ll take care of our baby. Don’t worry.”
With a teasing sleepy smile on your face, you say, “I don’t know how much I trust you with a newborn child.” Fred gives you a look, making you chuckle. “I’m kidding, love, I’m kidding.” Fred kisses your forehead, your nose, and then your lips gently, him rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Fred speaks before placing another kiss to your lips softly. He sits himself in the chair again, Daisy looking sleepy again herself. He sighs before clearing his throat and gently starting to sing a melody that sounded all too familiar to you. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day,” he sings, making your heart flutter in your chest. “When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May,” his voice is soothing, the vibrations from his chest calming Daisy down and putting her in a sleepy trance. “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl,” his deep voice sings the familiar love song.
Fred looks at you as you watch him with a small smile on your face, tears welling up in your eyes. He was singing your wedding song to your baby. It felt like a dream. Being married to the man you’ve always loved, seeing him cradle your beautiful baby girl in his arms, singing the song you would dance to as teenagers. It was unreal, but somehow, you were lucky enough to be living in it.
“I got so much honey, the bees envy me. I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees,” he continues to sing along, slowly putting both you and Daisy to sleep as you flutter your eyes closed, happy and safe.
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The drive back from the hospital was slow. Fred insisting on not driving faster than twenty miles an hour even though the speed limit was thirty. This caused many cars on the road to change lanes and shoot Fred dirty looks. 
“Fred, honey, you can drive faster than this. She’s in a car seat, strapped in very well as you made sure of before we left the hospital, and the road is very clear considering everyone has driven around you,” you tell him from the passenger seat.
He shakes his head, “No way. I am remaining as safe as humanly possible. Can’t risk putting my little flower petal in harm’s way.”
But eventually, you arrived back to your house where your friends and family awaited your arrival patiently. You turned the keys in the lock and pushed the door open, Fred following closely behind you with Daisy in her carrier. “We’re home,” you sing song out at the bunches of people who awaited your arrival in your home.
Everyone rises from the couches and chairs in your home, big smiles on their faces when they see you, Fred, and Daisy enter the door. Molly gasps and covers her mouth, tears already welling up in her eyes as Fred sighs. “Ron! Mum is already crying, you owe me two galleon!” George calls out. “I call holding it first!” George calls out.
“It?” Ginny makes fun of her brother with a light chuckle as Ron cackles from the other side of the couch, earning a pillow toss in the face from George. “I reckon I should hold the baby first considering I am going to be the godmother, right, (Y/N)?” Ginny asks.
George lets out a laugh, “Hilarious, Ginny. Last time I checked it was my twin who had the baby. Surely, I will be the godparent and the first one to hold it.”
“Stop calling the baby it!” Ginny reprimands him. “The baby is a...wait, you never told us what the baby’s sex is,” Ginny looks to you and Fred as the two of you are too preoccupied laughing at the antics of the group already. You weren’t even home five minutes and there was already arguing. “So?”
You look to Fred, giving him the honor of announcing the baby’s sex. “Everyone will get a turn holding her,” he announces as Ginny cheers out in victory, Ron owing George another two galleons, as Molly and Hermione squeal in excitement. “But who ever holds her first needs to wash their hands. I don’t want any dirty paws on my perfect baby girl,” he coos into the carrier before you take off the buckle and scoop Daisy into your arms as she stretches in your arms.
Ginny and George both make a mad dash to the sink, pushing the other out of their ways, trying to wash their hands first. You shake your head with a chuckle, and look down at your baby girl who is fast asleep still, still too young to understand the chaos of a family she was born into. 
Molly laughs and speaks, “While those two battle of the soap, little do they know I already washed and sanitized my hands when I came in.” You laugh, knowing Molly Weasley came prepared to be the first one to hold her grandchild. 
“Wait,” Fred stops his mother before you can pass the baby over to her. He pulls a vile of hand sanitizer from his pocket and squirts two drops in his mother’s hands, just in case. You slap his arm. “What? Can’t be too safe,” he defends himself. After Molly rubs in the gel, she looks at her son, giving him a sarcastic look. “Alright, now you can hold her,” he speaks as Molly rolls her eyes as you gently place Daisy in her arms.
Molly looks down at the newest addition to the Weasley family and her lights light up. Arthur looks over her shoulder and smiles softly at the beautiful babe in Molly’s arms. “She’s just a doll, isn’t she?” Arthur whispers as Molly cradles your daughter in her arms.
George and Ginny race back into the living room only to find their mother holding Daisy instead of one of them. George groans as Ginny defeatedly flops on the couch. “Snooze you lose, children,” she teases with a smile and George mimics her before flopping on the couch next to Ginny and Harry. Molly looks back at you and Fred with a big smile. “Well done, you two,” she beams as Fred hugs you from behind, resting his chin on the top of your head. “She’s simply beautiful.”
“Thank you, Molly,” you smile. “So, do you lot want to know her name?” you ask the group, earning a symphony of yes’s and please’s. You look up at Fred who gives you an encouraging nod. With a gulp, you reveal, “Her name is Daisy.” Hermione smiles widely and claps her hands excitedly. “Daisy Ginevra Weasley,” you finish.
Ginny’s eyes widen in shock at the baby’s middle name. It was important to both you and Fred that you had a family name in there besides the surname. You were insistent on giving Daisy Ginny’s name as her middle name. Ginny played a big factor in why you and Fred got together and she was always there for you every step of your relationship. It only seemed right to name your child after her. “You...you named her after me?” Ginny asks in disbelief as you and Fred nod your heads. “Bloody hell,” she whispers with a smile, tears making her eyes glassy, but she pushes them down with a shake of her head. “I don’t know what to say. I...” Ginny searches for the words, but just ends up running over to you and embracing you and Fred in the tightest hug. 
You laugh and give her a squeeze before holding her face in your hands. “You’re my sister, Gin. It only made sense to name our first daughter after someone who means so much to the both of us,” you tell Ginny as she smiles, tears now spilling from her eyes. You wipe away the tears with your thumbs as Fred places a kiss to his sister’s forehead.
Ginny laughs before punching Fred’s arm teasingly. “Merlin, you lot have made me soft,” she wipes her tears with a sniffle, making you and Fred laugh. Molly walks over to her daughter and puts Daisy in her arms as Ginny gasps and holds the baby close to her chest. “Hello, little one,” she whispers as Fred holds you in his arms, smiling wide as he watches his little sister hold his daughter. The sight was enough to make you cry again. The person who had been so influential in you and Fred’s relationship was now holding your first born child. “Reckon you have quite a beautiful middle name, eh?” she laughs before taking a seat next to Harry on the couch.
“Georgina also has a nice ring to it. Daisy Georgina Weasley. It’s not too late, you know,” George tells you and Fred, making you laugh and Ginny give him a dirty look.
“Shut it, you wanker,” she whispers through gritted teeth. 
“Ah, ah, ah! No swearing in front of the baby!” George tsks his sister before looking at you and Fred. “You don’t want a godparent who swears in front of children, now do you?” he continues to push Ginny’s buttons as she rolls her eyes, but continues to coo at Daisy who peels her eyes open and peers up at Ginny.
Fred walks towards George who sits in the living room chair and speaks, “Funny you should mention that. (Y/N) and I have both gone back and forth about this for a long while. And we decided that if anything should happen to either of us, we would want you to raise Daisy, George.” George’s eyes widen in disbelief as he looks back and forth between you and Fred as you smile widely. It was a no brainer deciding who Daisy’s godparent would be. George was the first person to know when you were pregnant, he made sure the joke shoppe could function the same now with Fred as a dad, he baby proofed his flat months in advance for Daisy’s arrival. George would be a great uncle and godfather to your child. “What do you say, Georgie?” Fred asks.
George engulfs Fred in a massive bear hug, making your heart swell as Molly wrapped her arm around you, pulling you into her side. Today was surely one of the best days of your life, watching your family care for this new life with so much love and tenderness. George pulls away from Fred with tears in his eyes, clearing his throat, and speaking, “Of course. Yeah, ‘course I will. If anyone lays a finger on that child consider them dead meat.” Fred laughs and hugs his brother again, the two of them sharing a tender moment.
Ginny rises from the couch and with a smile, passes Daisy over to her godfather and uncle. George holds Daisy with utmost care and carefulness. He carefully sits down and smiles at the small baby in his arms. “Hey, peanut. I’m your Uncle Georgie,” he smiles down at Daisy who yawns and stretches in his arms, pushing off her hospital cap in the process to reveal her tufts of strawberry blonde hair. “Ah, the Weasley signature,” George laughs. “Sorry about that one, (Y/N),” he winks as you laugh, sitting on the couch with Ginny’s legs folded over your lap as she kisses your cheek. “Godric, she’s beautiful, Freddie,” George gushes. “You’re gonna be a heart breaker, kid. Just like your mum before she met your dear old dad. You know it took him three times before she finally said yes to go out with him?”
“Alright, no need to embarrass me in front of my three day old child,” Fred laughs, sitting on the arm of the chair.
The whole lot of you sits in the living room, quite still, watching Daisy as she gets passed around the room, each person interacting with her, cooing at her. When she gets passed around to Ron and Hermione, Ron huffs, “So, Ginny is her namesake, George is her godparent, does that make me the cool uncle?” 
With a laugh, you shake your head, “Absolutely. Every kid needs a cool uncle and aunt.”
Ron smiles, “Wicked.” 
Hermione coos at Daisy, Ron gently brushing her cheek with his forefinger as Daisy yawns widely. “You are a darling,” Hermione blushes to the baby before looking at Ron with pleading eyes.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. I have the daunting job of being cool uncle. Let me get that job done first before we get involved with something else,” he warns as Hermione laughs along with the rest of the group.
You look over to Fred who is already looking at you, love plaguing his eyes as you sigh happily. He smiles at you gently before mouthing an I love you, you reciprocating the action. Everything in this moment felt so right, so perfect.
----------
“You’re coming over for dinner on Wednesday, right?” Ginny confirms with you as Harry helps her into her coat, baby Lily on Ginny’s hip.
Everyone had come over for Sunday dinner at you and Fred’s house, like every other week. But as the years went by, the dinner guest list had changed and adapted to include more people. Harry and Ginny’s first child as well as Ron and Hermione’s first child became a part of the guest list along with Angelina as she was now engaged to George. It was always something to look forward to at the end of the weekend, having family over. Not to mention, Daisy was obsessed with her cousins. 
“Of course. I don’t think Daisy would let us miss it,” you tell Ginny as you kiss Harry and Ginny goodbye. “Dee! Come say goodbye Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry!” you call out to your daughter who is still running around with James, Albus, Rose, and Hugo. 
Daisy, now three years old, whines, “I don’t want to say goodbye, Mummy!” She stomps her foot in protest and folds her arms in protest. Daisy loved every moment she spent with her family which only made you and Fred happier. Family was so important to the two of you and the fact that her best friends where her cousins always warmed your hearts. 
You smiled at your daughter and replied, “I know, darling. But you’ll see everyone again on Wednesday when we visit Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry’s house.”
Ginny chimes in, “And when you come over, I’ll let you wear my quidditch gloves like last time. How does that sound?”
Daisy’s face lights up and she immediately runs over to Ginny and hugs her legs as Ginny scoops her up and peppers her face with kisses as Daisy laughs wildly. Daisy looked up to Ginny. She always told you and Fred how much she wanted to be like her and play quidditch and fly around on a broom and win all of the games. She even started to demand being called by her middle name and not her first name, but you compromised with Daisy Gin.
Ginny places Daisy back down before calling out, “Alright, Potters! Let’s get a move on. You boys both need a bath,” she huffs when she sees chocolate smeared over both of her boy’s faces as they giggle wildly, running to Harry as he scoops up Albus and sets him on his hip. “Maybe if Uncle Fred didn’t let you eat half of the sweets bin, you wouldn’t need a third bath today,” she speaks, ruffling her hands in James’ hair, giving Fred the stink eye.
“Cool uncles let their cool nephews eat a bit of chocolate now and again, isn’t that right, James?” Fred asks, James fist bumping him in response with a wide grin. 
The Potters leave the house with a final round of goodbyes and kisses before Ron and Hermione follow suit, putting on jackets. Hermione bundles Hugo up in his rain boots and rain coat as Rose appears at your feet. “Auntie (Y/N), can Daisy and I have a sleepover again?” she asks, batting her eyes at you with the most devious smile she could conjure up.
Ron rubs his face, “Sweet Merlin, Rose, you are trouble with a capital t.”
You laugh and give Rose a kiss on her forehead, “Of course we can. How about next week you can sleepover here and we can go pancakes in the morning like last time?” Rose’s eyes widen as she and Daisy squeal with excitement. 
“Come on, darling,” Hermione calls over to Rose, holding her hand out for Rose to take. “Thanks again, dinner was delicious, (Y/N),” Hermione kisses your cheek goodbye. 
“Don’t mention it,” you speak. “We’re still on for drinks with Luna on Friday, right?” you ask as she nods excitedly. “Brilliant. That means cool uncle and cool dad are in charge of the kids,” you beam before giving Ron and hug goodbye.
Ron laughs, “Coolest uncle. I’ve been promoted.” You chuckle before waving goodbye to Ron, Hermione, and the kids. This just left George and Angelina which was always the toughest part of the night.
George slips on his coat as Angelina follows, before he calls out. “Alright, my flower,” he speaks. “Hit me with your best one.” He holds out his arms as Daisy giggles, running into his arms and throws her arms around his neck as George picks her up and swings her around, making Daisy squeal. “Oh, Uncle Georgie loves you so much,” he kisses her cheeks before blowing fart noises in her neck, making her laugh even harder. “I’ve got a proposal for you, my darling. How about little Daisy here helps up open up the shop next Saturday? Teach her about the family business?” he tickles her sides as Daisy giggles, Angelina watching her fiancé lovingly as he entertains the child with ease. “What do you say, (Y/N)? Dad will be there to make sure Uncle George doesn’t corrupt the child,” he teases as you roll your eyes.
You sigh and look at your husband and brother in law. “Yeah, alright,” you comply as Daisy cheers while George spins her around in victory. “Only if that means Angie and I get to have a night out on Saturday.”
Angelina laughs in agreement. “Absolutely. And it’s you lot’s treat,” she adds as you smile before giving her a hug and kiss goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, (Y/N). Thank you again for dinner.”
You watch as George dances around with Daisy, her smiling widely. George was a brilliant uncle and godfather. He was always willing to drop anything when you or Fred needed some help with her. Not to mention, he never minded playing babysitter when you and Fred needed a night alone. 
Fred sighed, “Alright, Daisy Gin, time for a bath and bed. You’ve had a long day.”
“No!” she protests, wrapping her arms tighter around George’s neck, pressing her cheek against his as George laughs. 
Fred pretends to gasp, “What do you mean no?”
“Uncle Georgie stays with me!” she demands. “And Auntie Angie!” 
Fred’s heart swells at how much his young daughter loved his twin and his soon to be wife. “I know you want them to stay, my petal, but it’s time for bed. Besides, we’ll see Uncle George and Auntie Angie on Wednesday,” he tells your three year old as she pouts.
George speaks, “Hey, don’t be upset. That’s very soon. And besides, next time I see you, I’ll have a surprise...” This makes Daisy’s eyes light up with joy and clap her hands. “I’ll see you soon, okay? I love you bunches.”
“Love you,” Daisy smiles in her tiny voice as George places a kiss to her cheek, Angelina placing another kiss to her opposite cheek, making Daisy giggle. Daisy is handed off to Fred as the last couple leaves with another round of hugs and kisses.
“Get home safe! And be careful on the roads! It’s supposed to storm tonight!” Fred calls out as George and Angelina hop into their car with another wave. Fred closes the door with a sigh. Now it was just you, him, and Daisy. “Alright, you,” he teases Daisy who smiles. “I think it’s time for you to take a bath,” he scoops your daughter up into his arms, taking one of her bare feet in his hand, lifting it up to his nose. He feigns disgust. “Those stink, Daisy Gin!” he exclaims as Daisy giggles. “Mummy, we’ve got a 2342! Stinky feet!”
You gasp, “A 2342?!” Daisy laughs louder. “Get her in the bath! Stat!”
With that, Fred runs up the stairs and to the bathroom as Daisy shrieks with delight as you can’t help but chuckle. Even the simplest things Fred made fun. Each day with Fred as the father of your child was an adventure. He made the simple days extraordinary and the extraordinary days out of this world. He was the center of Daisy’s world; that baby girl loved her father more than anything. Sometimes it made you a little jealous, how much she adored Fred, but you couldn’t stay mad for too long. It was just so damned adorable how she stared up at Fred with so much idolization. 
From your bedroom, you could hear Fred and Daisy sing nursery rhymes in the bath, Fred doing silly voices which only made Daisy giggle. The sang, they counted, talked about animals, and colors. Each babbling conversation made your heart swell with love. 
“Mummy!” you hear Daisy call from her bedroom. 
“Coming, my peanut!” 
You walked down the hall and into Daisy’s room, decorated in white and yellow flowers on the walls with a bookcase filled with books and toys, and her small bed with sheets adorned with Holyhead Harpies sheets as per Daisy’s request. She sat on the bed, wrapped in her towel, waiting for you to change her into pajamas. It was your favorite part of the day.
You smiled at your daughter with freshly washed hair, wrapped in a green towel. “There’s my flower,” you smiled as Daisy kicked her legs excitedly. “What pajamas are we wearing tonight? Your Harpies pajamas are in the wash, but you have your daisy pajamas from Uncle Neville and your rainbow pajamas from Auntie Luna.” Daisy thinks for a moment before requesting her daisy pajamas from Neville. 
As you change your daughter into fresh pajamas, you listen to her babble about how much fun she had with her cousins and how she couldn’t wait for Wednesday. You smiled to yourself, still wondering how you were so lucky to get the sweetest, most darling little girl in the world as your daughter. You brushed her hair gently before plaiting her red hair that matched Fred’s into two pigtail plaits. Daisy smiled at herself in the mirror as you peppered her right cheek with kisses making her giggle. “I love you, Daisy Gin,” you tell her.
“I love you, Mummy,” she bats her eyelashes, looking up at you with those big chocolate brown eyes that so resembled Fred’s. All of Daisy reminded you of Fred. From her hair to her eyes to the way she spoke, it was all so Fred which only made you love your little tike more fiercely. 
You carried her back to bed, tucking her in her sheets before calling out for Fred. Within seconds, Fred appeared with a smile on his face. “Bedtime for my princess,” he smiles before kneeling next to you at her bedside. “Goodnight, my baby,” he kisses her forehead as Daisy closes her eyes with a smile.
“I’m not a baby!” she protests. “I’m a big girl! Like Auntie Ginny!” 
Fred smiles as you laugh. “Oh, pardon me! Goodnight, my big girl,” he corrects himself as you lean over and give your baby a kiss on the forehead. 
You run your finger through the loose strands of hair that are wispy around her face. “Sweet dreams, my girl,” you speak softly.
“Goodnight, Mummy,” she speaks sweetly, enough to make your heart burst. “Goodnight, Daddy,” she coos at Fred who smiles.
The two of you shut the lights and shut the door gently. You and Fred make your way into your bedroom, getting ready for bed yourselves. As Fred shuts the door behind him, you feel his arms wrap around your waist as you sigh. He presses a trial of kisses up your neck as you smile. “She’s getting so big,” you whine, turning around and facing Fred. He places a chaste kiss to your lips.
Fred sighs. It was true. Daisy was growing up way too fast for your liking. It was exciting, watching her become her own person. But at the same time, you loved her at this age. How small and confident she was. How she thought she was so in control. It was adorable. “I don’t like thinking about it too much,” he confesses. “But...” he trails off before starting to unbutton the buttons of your shirt. “We could prevent that...if we had another...” he suggests as you smirk. “It’s been nearly three years. Don’t you think we deserve another one?” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Another baby to keep Daisy company...”
You shake your head, “Fred Weasley, you are relentless.” You press a kiss to his lips and Fred deepens it, kissing you slowly and tenderly as you gently moan into his mouth. He smirks as he pushes the shirt you wear off your body. Quickly pulling away, you look at him. “Are you sure she’s asleep already? I don’t need our daughter walking in on a situation neither of us want to explain to a three year old,” you tell him.
Fred huffs before kissing you again, mumbling against your lips. “I’m sure.” You give him a knowing look as he groans, “Fine. I’ll lock the door. But you better get your ass in that bed.”
You giggle as Fred runs to the door, locking it as you crawl into the bed, a little too excited.
----------
A few hours later, you and Fred are fast asleep, Fred shirtless, arm draped around your torso as you wear his shirt to sleep. The sounds of rain hitting the window sound through the master bedroom, the occasional rumble of thunder here and there. To you and Fred, the rain always helped you sleep, but the youngest Weasley disagreed.
Slowly, the bedroom door creaked open further. She held onto her hippogriff plushie tightly, eyes full of worry. “Mummy?” she quietly asked into the room as you stirred in your sleep, slowly recognizing the voice. “Mummy? Daddy?” she called out again.
You woke up, sitting up straight to see your baby girl standing in the door way, fear in her eyes as she clung onto her plushie. Thunder rumbled outside as Daisy gasped, scared of the noise. “Daisy? Baby, what’s wrong, petal?” you asks, sleep laced in your voice.
She ran to the side of the bed as lightning flashed, you scooping her up in your arms as she held onto you tight, shivering lightly. Sadness coursed through your body as you realized your baby was afraid of the storm that was outside. “Aw, my flower,” you cooed as you rocked her back and forth, her sniffling into your chest. “It’s okay, my love,” you speak, kissing her head.
Fred rubs his eyes and realizing that his daughter was crying into his wife’s chest. Panic rises in Fred’s voice, “Is she alright? Do I need to call a Healer? Muggle doctor?” 
You shake your head no. “Our little Daisy Gin is afraid of the storm,” you whisper to Fred who nods his head. “It’s alright, baby. Mummy and Daddy are here,” you flip yourself around so Daisy can see her father. “See? We’re here, petal. Everything is alright.”
Daisy sniffles as she looks at Fred and gives him a timid wave. Fred smiles sadly at his princess and speaks, “Hello, flower. The rain woke you up, huh?” Daisy nods her head. “Bloody rain. Should I yell at the rain? And tell it to stop bothering us?” he asks, still groggy, but you can hear the smile in his voice.
Daisy giggles and nods her head as Fred rises from the bed and walks over to the window, opening it up mid-storm despite your protests. He sticks his head out of the window and screams out, “Hey! Rain! Go away!” 
Your daughter laughs madly in your arms as you can’t help but chuckle. Surely the neighbors think you have lost your minds. Fred shuts the window and climbs back into bed as you and Daisy’s laughter fades. However, the laughter is replaced with another shriek from Daisy as lightning strikes and thunder rumbles. She retreats further into your chest as you rub her back, kissing her head. 
An idea pops into Fred’s head as he opens his arms for Daisy to curl into. He clears his throat and starts, “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May.” Your heart instantly melts at the sound of Fred singing to your daughter like he did the day she was born in the hospital three years ago. “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way, my girl,” he sings as he looks to you to join him.
“Talkin’ ‘bout my girl,” you join Fred as the three of you lay in the bed, Daisy cuddled in between the two of you, her sniffles fading. You continue to sing until her eyes start to flutter close and her mouth emits small snores. Slowly, you fade out as she is soundly asleep. Fred brushes his little girl’s hair out of her face with a soft smile. You are too occupied looking at Fred and how he stares at your daughter, your heart racing. As if he couldn’t be a better dad.
Fred looks at you with a smile. “I love you,” you tell him with a small shake of your head. “I love you so much.”
“I love you so much more, my dear,” he speaks before placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. “You’re my world. The two of you complete me. My girls.”
With that, you and Fred cuddle up to your sleeping daughter, falling asleep to the sounds of the rain.
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ohmyburningdreams · 3 years
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On Top of the World - A Fairy Tail Fanfic
Fanfic
Ch 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20
Chapter One
“Natsu!” The blonde giggled, “wait for me!”
Lucy stumbled after him, her five-year-old legs not carrying her quite as fast as her best friend, who sped nimbly along the old wooden bridges and walkways connecting the tree-top platforms of their village.
Natsu slowed to a stop, turning to face Lucy with a hand stretched out towards her. He bounced up and down, too excited to stand still. Lucy took his hand and together they raced along the path that spiralled down through their village to the front gate on the first level.
They ran as fast as they could, dodging people, and almost causing more than one accident as they went. Ignoring the irritated shouts aimed at them, the two continued on, laughing with excitement, their little feet clattering across the sturdy wood beneath them.
“Come on, Luce! We’re almost there!” He shouted over his shoulder, their hands still firmly entwined.
Running up to the group of people at the gate, Natsu spotted a tall figure in the middle.
“DAD!” Natsu cried as he barrelled through the crowd, letting go of Lucy’s hand and throwing himself into his father’s arms, “you’re back! Did ya fight any monsters?!”
Igneel deftly caught Natsu and managed to keep his balance as he swung the boy around in a sweeping circle, happy to be home after months spent scouting the world below.
“Natsu!” he grinned, slowly dropping the six-year-old back onto his own feet, “I have to go and report, but I promise I’ll tell you all about it tonight, okay, son? Can you go and find your mother and let her know I’m home?”
Natsu nodded, grinning widely, before snatching Lucy’s hand back into his own and ducking through the crowd again, taking off the way they’d come. They dodged and weaved around the same people who’d shouted at them the first time, annoying them all over again.
Natsu and his family lived on the top level of the tree-top city, past the greenhouses and the kitchen and dining hall, up a ramp and over several bridges connecting the trees and their platforms around them. Their whole lives had been spent there in the tree-tops, in the Heartfilia Estate, named after Lucy’s own family.
Natsu thought that was awesome; it meant that Lucy was his princess and he had to protect her at all costs to keep her safe. He liked to pretend he was a fierce dragon, guarding his golden-haired best friend from the scary world below their town.
Among the tallest trees in the forest, their world was a blur of green leaves and branches and wooden buildings sitting sturdily between the trunks of trees that were hundreds of years old. Birds flitted here and there as they sang their songs, dancing through the twigs and darting into and out of their nests.
Branches wrapped in flowering vines twisted along the bridges and walkways, climbing the sides of houses and decorating the branches above, only to disappear back into the trees and reappear further along the path. The brightly coloured flowers lured bees and butterflies and all sorts of insects with their fragrance, swaying gently in the breeze.
The children wove their way towards Natsu’s house, jumping into pools of warm sunlight piercing the canopy of leaves above them and bathing the paths below, making a game of it as they ran, giggling and shouting their happiness. They really were the best of friends.
Natsu skidded around a corner and slid through the open doorway of his family’s home, a multi-level wooden house, big enough to be built around two towering tree trunks.
Lucy had always loved Natsu’s house; it was big and open, full of sunlight and warmth, and every time she entered it, she could feel the love it held within. The Dragneel family occupied one of the nicest houses in the village, reflecting Igneel’s important role as Jude Heartfilia’s right hand man.
Entering through the door, the kitchen was to the left, the sink underneath the window, and an island bench, with stools tucked under one side, bordered the path straight down the middle of the house. On the right of the open space, was the living room, the outer wall made entirely of big glass windows that looked upon all the colourful levels of the village.
Sitting atop the fifth level, right next to Lucy’s house, the Dragneel’s home looked down onto the main path that swept around in a large spiral, leading down to lower levels, and eventually, the ground. Every so often, other paths branched off the main one, sweeping away into the trees, leading to other homes. At night, the paths were lit by solar powered lanterns, glowing warmly in the darkness.
The trunk of a large tree stood against the far wall of the Dragneel’s living room, decorated in fairy lights, their solar panel resting on the windowsill. The tree’s branches twisted up and through the ceiling. The stairs were beside that tree, directly across from the home’s entry, leading up to the bedrooms. While Lucy knew Natsu’s bedroom like the back of her tiny hand, including all his secret hiding spots, the two preferred to run around outside, Natsu always dragging Lucy into some kind of mischief.
The stairs were built between two large, solid tree limbs; one twisting beneath the floating stairs and turning upwards to make a handrail of sorts, and the other branch twisting above to make an archway, before disappearing into the ceiling and reappearing in one of the rooms above.
Lucy really liked being there; it felt like a real home to her, unlike her sprawling house that was decorated with things that looked nice but weren’t for touching.
Grandeney, Natsu’s mother, was in the kitchen when Natsu and Lucy came flying into the room, babbling excitedly as they jumped around her, holding hands. She laughed, smiling down at the two children. “Hey you two, slow down! One at a time please, I can’t understand you both when you’re jumping around and shouting like that.”
Lucy giggled and clamped a hand over her mouth, but continued to jump around with Natsu, who laughed and took a big breath, before shouting, “Igneel’s back! He told us to come and find you while he went to report to Lucy’s dad!”
“Oh? Is that so? I guess you’d better go tell Zeref, he’s --” she grinned, ushering the two children back towards the door, only to be cut off by Natsu.
“Zeref!” Natsu shouted, spinning in his tracks to duck under Grandeney’s arms, entirely missing the reason she was ushering them outside, and raced up the stairs towards his brother’s room.
Grandeney sighed, waiting for Natsu to reappear, knowing it would take a second for the information to sink into his over-excited, little brain. Footsteps clattered down the stairs and he skidded to a halt in front of her moments later, with his brow furrowed.
“He’s with Metalicana, fixing some pipes. You should be able to find him in the nets below level two. Be careful, Natsu, stay on the walk-way.”
Natsu opened his mouth to argue, his whole body seeming to droop as the excitement left him.
Grandeney cut him off with a pointed look, “Natsu, I don’t want you and Lucy in those nets, do you understand me? You know it isn’t safe, and your job is to keep Lucy safe, right?”
Grandeney sighed, biting the inside of her cheek as she struggled to keep her stern expression in place. She wasn’t above using Natsu’s bond with the small girl to get him to follow orders from time to time, often finding the situations she had to use that leverage in quite funny.
Natsu frowned, and then lit up again, suddenly just as excited as he was before. “Yeah! I’ll keep Lucy safe; nothing will happen to her when I’m around!” And with that, he puffed up his chest and pulled a blushing Lucy from the room, leaving Grandeney shaking her head as she laughed in their wake.
The two children wound their way down through the levels of the tree-top town, chattering excitedly about what Igneel and the other scouts may have found in the world below. Neither child had ever been down to the ground, but while Lucy hoped she never would, Natsu was excited to one day go down and fight the monsters that dwelled on the forest floor.
The small girl frowned as Natsu babbled about finding a real dragon, fear clouding her mind. The world below was a terrifying place, full of monsters and scary things she didn’t even want to imagine. She knew that sometimes people didn’t come home once they’d gone down to the ground, and they were taught in school that they should never venture there until they were adults and only if it was their job; they were safer in the trees.
“Lucy?” She suddenly realised that Natsu was waving his hand in front of her face, and she jumped, startled, when he managed to bring her attention back to him. “We found them, Luce!” he grinned.
“Oh yeah! I see them!” Lucy replied, grinning as she looked to where Natsu was pointing. In the safety nets below a wooden bridge that was suspended between two platforms by thick, knotted rope, two figures were hanging in safety harnesses, arms reaching up to fix the pipe running along the underside of the bridge above them. They might live in the trees, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have modern plumbing; their village was a few centuries old, after all.
Natsu ran over to them, flopping down onto his belly and sticking his head out between the bridge’s wooden slats and the rope holding them up, peering down at his older brother.
“Oi, Zeref!” he shouted, much too loudly, as was his habit. Everything was loud about Natsu, from his personality to the pink hair on his head. Zeref, on the other hand, was eerily calm, almost to the point that he often came across as emotionless.
“Careful, Natsu,” Lucy reached out, placing her hands on the boy’s back, trying to anchor him in place with her own body.
“Natsu?” Came Zeref’s reply, the older boy leaning back and brushing his dark hair out of his eyes, as he squinted up at Natsu, “please don’t fall, I’d rather not have to fish you out of the net today,” he sighed.
Natsu frowned and wrinkled his nose, “that was one time!”
“And the five times before that?” Zeref stared up at him, one eyebrow raised. Beside him, their uncle, Metalicana, snorted.
“Okay, okay, but I’m not gonna fall this time! I’ve got to make sure Lucy stays safe, you know,” Natsu grinned, glancing at Lucy, who was sitting quietly beside him, her hands still on his back, “anyway, we came down to tell you that Dad’s back!”
Zeref merely nodded up at his little brother, “okay, we shouldn’t be too much longer. Go on home, Natsu.”
“And keep outta the trees, squirt,” Metalicana grunted from his place, not taking his eyes off the pipe as he hung beside Zeref.
Natsu groaned as he got up, pulling Lucy to her feet with him, “Okay, okay, sheesh!”
- : -
Later that night, Lucy and Natsu found themselves camped out in his living room, listening to Igneel tell of his adventures down below. They’d made themselves a tent around the thick tree trunk, its fairy lights illuminating their little fort and casting shadows that danced across the fabric walls. They’d used blankets, sheets, and cushions to create their own little world, laughing and shouting at Igneel’s tales, which he edited into a story more suited for children.
Igneel wasn’t against telling them of the real world below, but he didn’t think they needed to know how bad it really was, especially at their young ages; it was important that they enjoyed their childhood while they could, before learning just how dangerous the world really was beneath the safety of the treetops.
“As you both know, the world as it is now, is very different from the world of our ancestors; people used to live on the land below the trees, they had giant sprawling cities made of concrete and stone, and they didn’t have to deal with many of the creatures that live down there now. We explored one of those cities a couple weeks ago, it was covered in grass and trees and plants of all kinds. Nature has slowly reclaimed that town and trees were growing in the houses. You would have loved it, Natsu, you could run around without any fear of falling out of the sky,” Igneel grinned, watching his son, “we wouldn’t be pluckin’ ya out of nets all the time!”
Natsu grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “that’d be awesome, Dad! I wanna go explore it too!”
For whatever reason, Natsu didn’t seem able to feel fear, and Igneel wasn’t sure if that meant they’d done well in raising him, or if they’d done terribly, considering how often they’d found the boy bouncing in the nets after he’d decided to climb through the trees instead of using the walkways. Igneel thought it was lucky they even had nets, as Natsu would have been flat as a pancake on the forest floor by now, otherwise.
Once, Igneel had been crossing a bridge on the third level, only to almost have a heart attack when Natsu had come flying out of a tree somewhere above, landing in the net below. Igneel had peered over the edge of the bridge, at a giggling Natsu, and thanked his lucky stars his wife hadn’t witnessed the event. Of course, she’d witnessed it on several separate occasions, grounding the boy for a month each time, even though they both knew Natsu would just sneak out his window and in through Lucy’s in the middle of the night. That’s what happened when your best friend lived next door. Grandeney was simply thankful that Natsu and Lucy had each other in times like these.
“Did you... See any monsters?” Lucy asked timidly. She was a shy girl, slightly taller than Natsu, despite being a year younger. Her golden hair fell down her back like a wave of silk, framing her little face with her big brown eyes in a way that almost made her look like a little angel. Luckily, she seemed to balance Natsu out, the angel to his demon, and Igneel was sure his son would’ve gotten up to a whole lot more mischief without Lucy around.
Igneel thought for a moment, trying to pick the least aggressive animal they’d come across, “we found a really big, blue cat, but he didn’t seem too bothered by us, so we left him alone,” he smiled and ruffled Lucy’s hair, knowing she was easily scared. She smiled back at him, listening intently to the rest of his stories.
Lucy had always been part of their lives; from the moment she’d come along. The saying went ‘it takes a village to raise a child,' and Igneel and Grandeney had welcomed Lucy with open arms, considering her part of their family.
Lucy’s mother, a good friend of theirs, was often unwell, and Lucy had spent a lot of time at their house, playing with Natsu. Her father was always busy and didn’t seem too interested in taking the time to raise her. He did have a whole village to run, but Igneel still thought that was slack of him. In fact, Igneel didn’t like the man much at all, if he was honest.
So, Lucy often spent nights in pillow forts with their son, running around the place with him during the day; it wasn’t often the two weren’t together, and secretly Igneel knew they were never really going to be apart. Though, he wouldn’t let Natsu know that; the small boy made gagging noises whenever he caught his parents sharing a kiss.
After hours of stories, Lucy had begun to drift off to sleep and Natsu was finally losing some of his bounciness. So Igneel said good night to the two children and quietly left them, making his way to his and Grandeney’s room, hoping for the best night sleep he’d had in months.
Inside the tent, the soft glow of the fairy lights dimly illuminating their own little haven, Natsu stretched with a big yawn, and burrowed into the blankets beside his best friend, curling up around her just like he’d always done.
“Natsu?” Lucy sleepily mumbled, shifting a bit to get comfortable, “one day, can we get a blue cat?”
Natsu grinned into Lucy’s back, “yeah! With wings!” he whispered excitedly.
Lucy giggled, “cats don’t have wings, silly.”
“Ours will,” Natsu replied, breathing a sigh of contentment, and snuggling closer to her before they both drifted off into a deep sleep.
× Next chapter
68 notes · View notes
opchickpea · 4 years
Text
Request
Hi how are you? It is me again. Sorry for bothering but I loved your Shanks and Zoro fic stories and I wanted to know if you could please do one request? Could you please a fic where reader is the only daughter of Whitebeard and she was created by him since being a baby, so everyone is overprotective of her (specially Thatch,Marco and Izo) so they all freak out when they discover she and Ace were secretly dating (only Pops knew it)? Thank you for the attention
A/N : HERE WE GO! So I did my best. The situation reminded be of Chandler and Monica from Friends when they had to hide their relationship from the rest. I hope you enjoy this! I’m still trying to get the hang of answering requests without doubting myself and all,  cause I really want to post content that all of you would enjoy. Thank you for the support you lovely people  ٩(◕‿◕)۶
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Portgas D. Ace X Reader Request!
“I don’t want this to be over,”
“It’s only going to be awhile,”
“I don’t know how we’ve kept this up this long,”
His hand gently squeezed yours as the two of you returned back to the large monstrous ship docked by the bay.
“Why don’t we just tell them?” Ace whined and you pressed a soft kiss on his nose.
“If we do tell them, they’ll freak out. You know how they can be...Thatch, Marco and Izo...”
The man only groaned and rolled his eyes but he agreed with you.
“They’ll make a really big deal out of it and you are so lucky Pops was okay with us. And do you really want Izo slamming his fans on your pretty freckled face?”
Ace pouted but had to admit you were right.
The two of you had been sent to do a mission that took you and Ace a month to complete, and during that one month the two of you didn’t have to hold back from being around each other. Now you guys were going back to the ship which meant it was back to silence, patience and anticipation.
Your fingers slipped from his as the two of you arrived on the ship, and was greeted happily by the the crew.
“There they are,” Marco grinned, approaching the two you, he embraced you before Ace. “This one didn’t cause you much trouble I hope?”
“You think Ace is worse than you?” You retorted.
“I would never give Y/N the same treatment I do you, Marco,” Ace grinned clapping Marco on the back. “Did Thatch prepare some food? I’m hungry.”
“He’s in the kitchen, you glutton.”
With that Ace disappeared.
“Well, I should go see Pops,” you scurried away.
---
Weeks pass since your return and the ship was once against sailing in the open waters of the Grand Line.
Marco and Izo have been noticing how different your behaviour was since you’ve got back and they noticed the same for Ace. Thatch in his daily kitchen conversations with Marco and Izo, assumed that something happened on the mission that changed the two of you.
“Ace, you gotta talk to the second division about the damaged artillery...” you spoke as you inspected the arms of the Moby Dick.
“Will do,” Ace replied and swiftly stole a kiss from you, making you freeze in your spot and blush.
“That’s risky business what you just did there,” you whispered to him. “Someone could’ve been watching.”
Ace innocently glanced around.
“No ones here,” he pointed out and then stole another kiss.
“Ace!”
“Y/N, could you come up on deck?”
That was Marcos’s voice.
“Coming!” You responded, moving instantly.
Ace took advantage of this empty artillery room and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a deep passionate kiss. He smirked when he could feel the small smile that appeared on your delicate face.
“You’re so touchy today,” you giggled softly.
“It’s been weeks since I last kissed you, and it’s killing me,” Ace pouted, holding you close to him.
“Come to my room later then?” You asked, kissing his freckled cheek before slipping away from his touch to go to whatever Marco wanted.
“What’s up Marco?” You asked but when you emerged on deck, Thatch and Izo were with him too. “Have I done something wrong?”
Whenever the three men were gathered like this, it was usually because you’ve done something troublesome and also when they had given you the awkward conversation of the Birds and Bees when you were twelve.
Being Whitebeard’s biological daughter, you grew up with the older crew members who were extremely protective of you. One time when you were sixteen, one of the newer crew member’s looked at you the wrong way and the next time you saw him, he had a black eye and would shiver every time your paths crossed.
“Are you alright?” Thatch asked, crossing his arms over his chest, a very worried expression on his face.
“I’m great. Why? Do I not seem like it? Do I look sick or something?” You tilted your head to the side.
“Did something happen between you and Ace?” Izo piped up and you turned to him, your heart racing a little.
“What do you mean?” You laughed nervously.
“The two of you have been on edge since you got back. We’re only asking because the two of you are really close friends, and it seems something has changed in your friendship,” Izo explained, fanning himself. “Did you two fight?Do I need to knocked some sense into him?”
You were relieved and you found yourself laughing really hard because they mistook yours and Ace’s longing looks at each other as gazes of hatred or resentment. This was too hilarious. You were definitely going to tell Pops about this during dinner later.
You embraced the three of them, still giggling.
“Trust me when I say, it’s nothing like that. Ace and I are still best friends,” you told them but they only grew more curious.
They shared a look as you wiped tears of laughter from your eyes as you left them.
“What does she mean it’s nothing like that?” Marco murmured.
“Then what is it?” Izo rubbed his chin.
The three of them then decided to keep an extra eye on the two of you for the next couple of days or until they figure out what’s going on because they couldn’t shake the feeing that something was off.
Which led to them spying on you and the Second Division Commander.
---
Marco was glued to Ace by the hip the whole day and it was fishy to you, and you couldn’t help but feel that somebody was watching you. This reminded you of a time when Thatch and Marco spied on you when you started hanging around other crew members when you were younger, they told you they did it to make sure you were safe but you told huffed and told them off to you dad. Let’s say they haven’t spied on you since then.
Later that night, you read your book waiting for Ace. It was already past 9, and he still wasn’t here. You rolled out of bed and took a peek outside. There was no one in sight and you wondered what had happened to him.
Marco, Thatch and Izo took notice of the Second Division Commander yawning.
“I think I’m gonna go hit the sack,” he got up and left them.
“I got this,” Izo muttered to the other two as he shadowed Ace.
Izo tiptoed as he followed the Second Division Commander who whistled carelessly as he strolled down the hall. Ace suddenly stopped and paused for a solid good minute.
Izo panicked. Does Ace know he was being followed? How was he going to play this off? What lie was he going to say?
But the soft snores coming from Fire Fist, relieved Izo.
“Thank god, he just fell asleep,” he murmured to himself, face palming but when he looked up Ace was gone, his whistles becoming distant. Izo quickly followed, only to find the Second Division Commander outside your door.
He knocked before he entered.
Izo’s eyes widened as the words you had said earlier repeated in his head.
‘Trust me when I say, it’s nothing like that’.
Izo returned to the other members of the ‘Must Protect Whitebeard’s Princess Club’ and thought of maybe changing the name to something shorter.
“Ace went to Y/N’s room,” Izo sat back down at their table.
“Yeah so?” Marco leaned back into his chair.
“Ace went to Y/N’s room,” Izo repeated.
Thatch rubbed his chin. “We heard you the first time,”
“Ace went to-“
“You don’t think they’re-“ Marco suddenly sat up.
“Ace and Y/N, they’re best friends,” Thatch laughed at the idea, sweating a litte as he repeated to himself, that you wouldn’t do such a thing.“Don’t best friend’s hang out in each other’s rooms?”
The other two sighed. Thatch was right. Maybe they were reading into things too much. But if the two of you weren’t mad at each other, what was this suspicious feeling they felt?
“Something still feels fishy,” Izo concludes, snapping his fan open to cool himself.
“It’s probably nothing...”Marco murmured.
But...the days that followed, Ace had been getting a little reckless. It was hard for the man to switch from super familiar with you to not so familiar.
One time Marco and Thatch walked into the bathroom at a time where you and Ace were sure was going to be unoccupied by the rest of the crew.
The doors swung open and you lowered yourself in the water, holding your breath, the white bubbles that hid you in plain sight. What made Thatch and Marco slightly weirded out was the sight of the Second Division Commander in a bath full of bubbles. A glass of wine in one hand, accompanied by the aroma of assorted scented candles.
And Ace looked at them straight in the face and said, “I had a long hard day.”
That was strike one.
Strike two, was mortifying for you but even more for Ace.
The crew was woken up earlier than before and everyone was groggy that day at the breakfast table. You had made yourself a cup of tea while you chatted with the sleepy Division Commanders and Pops.
Ace walked in eyes still droopy with sleep and the cogs in his brains weren’t properly running yet. Shirtless as usual, he first saw you and leaned over to kiss you tenderly on the lips, a sweet morning kiss was what he needed. Your eyes widened.
Realising what he had done, he pulled back with just the same shocked look on your face and he tried to find the right words beneath the burning murderous narrowed glares from Thatch, Marco and Izo who witnessed the kiss. Pops was chuckling to himself.
“This is how I greet everyone now,” Ace stuttered as he went on to awkwardly kiss Thatch on the lips, making Izo’s jaw drop and before he could move to Marco, Marco slammed Ace’s head on the table.
“You’re not greeting anyone that way ever again!”
Ace retreated back into the cabins as he really couldn’t function in this hour and wanting to rub soap on his lips. You awkwardly sipped your tea,Pops turned to his three commanders sat with him at this moment.
“You three know they’re together right?”
You almost spat your tea.
You looked at your father with wide eyes. A smug grin was beneath his white moustache. Was he for real?
“Pops I don’t think now is the right time to-“
“I can’t handle these three nosy hens spying on you two when they should be focusing on other things,” Pops interrupted you, placing his hand on your head soothingly.
You turned your narrowed gaze towards the three men and muttered, “Yeah...very nosy hens.”
“Pops we were just trying to protect her,” Marco spoke up.
“From Ace?” Pops laughed hard. “That boy would never harm Y/N. As his fellow commanders, you should’ve already known that.”
“Wait you know?” Izo was taken aback.
“I’m her father, of course I know,” Pops slammed his drink down with pride.
“I thought keeping it from you guys was a smarter choice cause you all get so protective,” you defended yourself. “Besides as long as I have Pops blessing, you three knuckleheads can’t do or say anything.”
“So now that you three know, can you get your priorities straight,” Whitebeard snapped at his Commanders. “There are better things to do than spy on my daughter and her boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?!?” The three exclaimed not believing that Pops had acknowledged Ace as your chosen significant other.
“I appreciate your efforts on protecting her but it’s rather foolish to protect her from Ace,hm?” Pops continued to beat down his sons.
The three were speechless.
“I’m gonna go check on Ace,” you got up and pressed a kiss on your fathers cheek, hugging him tightly. “Thanks Pops.”
Now that it was finally out in the open, Ace can do as he pleases around you and you know it’d be a relief for him to finally be able to hold you without the fear of dropping you should someone see the two of you.
“It could be worse,” Izo shurgged as the information sunk in their heads. “Better Ace than anyone else.”
“That morning kiss was really just meant for Y/N.” Marco thought out loud and then laughed.
“Don’t remind me,” Thatch groaned, burying his face in his hand.
Taglist : @underworldsheiress​ @luffytarhoe​
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fragileizywriting · 3 years
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cooking together (part one)
AO3 | Start Here | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chat Noir hasn’t spoken to her since she’s woken up.
To be fair, she doesn’t blame him. She doesn’t blame him in the slightest. How stupid of her to fall asleep on top of one of the most famous, most deadliest demons in the world— sleeping on top of him like he’s nothing more than a pillow. The great Chat Noir reduced to nothing but a cuddle buddy— oh how stupid of her. She’d cried in front of him— she’s done it before to the point where there is nothing of guilt left within her whenever it happens, and he’s never said anything before but comfort her. But sleep on top of him, oh, Tikki— what should she do now? Where does she begin?
They had sat there on either side of their couch, completely silent, each with their faces hidden behind their hands within moments of her scrambling to get off of him. No doubt Chat Noir was absolutely groaning to himself internally about how unlucky he is for getting stuck with a summoner that is absolutely desperate for affection like she is— to the point where she even latches onto him even during her sleep— oh, embarrassing! So embarrassing!
He must hate her, or find her absolutely weird— hell, maybe even find her to be the most incredibly annoying human he’s ever had the displeasure of meeting— oh, Tikki— guide her in what to do next!
He’d slipped away from the couch after a moment or two of silence, changed out of his clothes for something more fitting of the chores to do around their farm life, and had washed up in the washroom— leaving the house while muttering something under his breath about going to go check up on the hens.
She’s only now just gotten ready herself. It’s been a year or so since she’s gotten regular help with lacing her stays— it’s definitely doable by herself, of course, since she’s done it her whole life on her own— but Chat Noir usually helps her, claiming it's his job as a familiar to help her.
It’s always so much easier to do with an extra pair of hands, and no matter how much or how well she ties her hair to the side, she always ends up catching part of her hair in the loops whenever she does it by herself— so she’s been accustomed to being helped in that way. But by herself, goodness— the sensation of lacing herself and tucking the spare bits of string under the stomacher is almost foreign nowadays.
She’s put on her petticoat, too— it’s almost in the shape of a full-body apron, it too snagged at some parts of her hair.
She forgets how easy things in her life are, now that Chat Noir is there to help.
At least putting on her actual dress is a breeze. She’s picked her favorite wine-colored one, the one with the front closures this time, knowing that Chat has made no signs of wanting to return into the house and help her close it in the back. She can dress herself— she doesn’t need a powerful demon for help getting dressed— he’s not a maid. Besides, it’s not as if she’s gotten used to the domesticity.
She sighs to herself in the kitchen, trying not to peek through the window as she hears him corralling the hens outside the coup so he can bring in eggs. Oh, he’s gentle with their chickens, even if it seems he’s out of his element when he does so— he’s learned to behave around them over the year and months they’ve known each other, which is definitely good news. It’s almost as if he wants to be loved by the hens. The thought shouldn’t warm her this much, but it does— oh goodness— she tries beating down the feeling with a little slap to her cheeks, whining pitifully behind her palms.
Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid!
She needs to stop thinking about the concept of domesticity with him— oh, goodness, how she needs to stop— he’s a demon— and demons do not live in little, tiny cottages with their summoning witch. Demons do not live happily tending to hens and working on fencing a perimeter out the back of their land so that they can have horses and cows and sheep accessible as the years go on. Demons do not dream of coming home and placing kisses on their summoner’s cheeks and nuzzle with a purr. And demons definitely do not wish to talk about all the latest catch he and Luka got during their fishing escapades, bringing home barrels of fish hoisted onto a carriage so that they can sell and store!
Demons certainly do not entertain any notion of falling in love with a witch— goodness, of course they don’t— she’s certain that Chat Noir would be more excited to be doing actual demon work— whatever that may be— than to stay here and build up the posts for the fence. There is simply no way in hell that Chat Noir would rather be here.
She can stupidly dream and she can stupidly wish all she wants, but the moment that she brings back Adrien, Chat Noir will swallow her soul and disappear. She’s almost positive. After all, Ladybug she may be, but she’s nothing more than a witch that needs his help. A friend, sure— but— this is all just a transaction to him, is it not?
And yet, throughout all of this, she can’t stop herself from wishing. Wishing to wake up every morning in the same manner that she had today— pressed up against him, warm and safe, close enough to him that she could steal a kiss off of him— oh, she’s so silly, fantasizing about what she can’t have!
Maybe she can start with an apology gift— maybe he’ll talk to her then— he did say last night he wanted to try lover-honey cookies, after all.
It’s been years since she’s helped with the recipe, but she’s memorized it— even as she’d learned spells from her textbooks she’d bought off of traveling bookwagons, she also made sure to pay attention to her parents when they baked, just so that she knew how to make it in case they didn’t have any and she wanted to bring some for Adrien.
She’ll have to go into town to find a couple of things, they might be low on sugar— but it’ll be good for her to get out of the house— the more and more she stays inside the cottage, the more she’s bound to get cabin-fever from the amount of thinking that’s going on in her head.
Oh, but…
She leans on her elbows on the counter as she looks at the fire lily in the little vase she’s procured from the cabinets, sighing wistfully. The vase doesn’t do it justice, since it’s been such a long time since she’s decided to cut any flowers outside and bring some indoors— it is a little dusty and a little chipped, but that’s alright. The vase is far too wide to house just a single flower— it almost looks out of place without any surrounding foliage. Maybe she should go out in the backwoods and search for shrubbery or moss to accompany it, after making the cookies— something dark green, so it won’t take away from the flower.
It’s a beautiful lily— she’s never seen such a beautiful blossom before. Usually the lilies she’s seen and planted over the years have been spotted and freckled along the petals— very reminiscent of the freckles along her face— but this one is completely and totally unblemished, favoring instead just a beautiful gradient from orange to dark red at the tips.
It’s nothing like the trumpet-bell-shaped lilies she’s known to grow— this lily isn’t shy in the slightest in its bloom. It curls open, unafraid, desperate to attract bees and other pollinators to the honey-like smell of nectar— she sighs to herself as she continues to admire it.
It is lovely. So lovely.
She’s never received a flower before.
Oh, sure. She’s received many gifts before. Alix with her pocket watches that tick and tock so delicately they must simply be works of magic— Alya with her many books that she lends to her whenever she needs to learn new spells— Nino always buying their lunch or dinner whenever the two of them decide to get food together in town and Chat is off with another competition against Luka.
Oh, and sweet Luka, of course, with his snake oil bottles— with the pearl earrings he’s made for her, even if she can’t wear them because of the demonic seals tattooed onto her ears— the countless of songs he sings and writes for her when he’s finally on land.
But a flower?
How had Chat Noir known to give her one of her favorite flowers? A gorgeous fire lily— oh— if only she could keep it in this vase forever. Nothing compares to the honey scent that the fire lily produces— she smells it softly, bending down more onto the counter to smell the aromatics, taking note of the buds of pollen that are ripe to explode.
“Princess!”
She straightens her spine with a squeak, almost knocking over the vase in an attempt to stand up straight, looking out to the front door. “Yes? W-what’s wrong, kitty-cat?”
She takes to patting down her apron that lays flat across the slim boning of her stays, just to have something to do with her hands, trying not to look as nervous as she feels.
Chat Noir shoulders through the front door, a clucking brown ball under his arm, grinning like a fool. There are black smudges against his feet and pants already, as always, somehow finding a way to succeed every expectation and find a way to stain his clothes. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong— in fact— look! I found her with the other ladies— look— she’s even letting me hold her!”
Henrietta.
“My goodness, you’re right—” She pushes her braid back over her shoulder, making her way over to him and their hen. Henrietta is absolutely tame in his hands for a bird that is notorious for scampering the other way the moment Chat looks at her. Goodness, she’s so small— easily could fit through any crevice of any tree she’d found during the storm— no wonder she’d been impossible to spot during the storm last night after she’d slipped out of the coup.
Marinette takes Henrietta out of his arms once she’s close enough to reach for her, checking her over for signs of injury— but there’s absolutely nothing, sans the slight complaining she gives when transferring into another person’s arms. No feathers missing at the back of her neck, there’s no bleeding, there doesn’t even seem to be any scuffling on her feet or claws— her eyes look healthy and clean. Miraculously, the hen is perfectly fine— even clucking softly as she turns her over to check her undercarriage.
She could cry. “Oh, Chat, this is wonderful! She’s completely unharmed! Blessed be this little hen.”
“I told you she’d be okay,” Chat Noir’s ears twitch as he leans up against the doorframe.
She tucks Henrietta into her side just to have somewhere secure enough to place her. “Where did you find her?”
“She was on the other side of the fence, actually. She was trying to get back in but couldn’t figure out on how to jump the fence or get through the gap.” His smile comes out a little lopsided, diamond green eyes filled with joy.
“I’m so grateful that you found her, Chat. Oh thank Tikki she’s safe and sound,” She wipes at her cheek, trying to wipe away any tears that are threatening to form. Goodness, Henrietta is alright. What a miracle this is— she’d been so hard on herself the night before, wondering why she’d left the gate open— she’ll never do that again for sure. Definitely not, and definitely not during an active rainstorm no less. She’s learned her lesson.
“Oh.” He blinks slowly at her.
“What is it?”
“You—” Chat’s lips twitch on the side with a widening smile. He reaches to her to pet at her cheek with a clawed thumb, and she can’t help but follow his hand down to her cheek with widening eyes, biting her lip. “You have a stain on your cheek.”
“I do?”
He laughs. “Is it from the flower? You know, I’ve been told that it’s good fortune to be blemished by a lily.”
“I—” She can feel her cheeks heat. Oh, Tikki! “I— uh— I never knew that—”
He pauses, and something about his ears as they twitch downwards gives him the appearance of being apprehensive, but she can barely look away as she feels the heat of his hand up against her cheek— she’s so desperate to stop thinking about this being their new normal. What she would give to have mornings filled with loving touches— loving glances— loving moments such as this.
“Do you… not want me to touch you anymore?”
She blanches, feeling her heart sink into her socks. “What?”
“You’re kind of shying away—”
“No— please— I mean— I don’t mind you touching me— my— face. At all. Please.” Oh, Tikki. What did she do to deserve this? How does she make herself stop rambling? “Please continue— I—”
“Are you sure?” His lips thin, his voice quieting. “You… don’t look comfortable.”
“No, I promise, I’m very comfortable. So very comfortable.” She nods as well as she can without accidentally poking her eye out on the thumb that rests at her temple. It would just be her luck to be that careless. Her voice sounds almost weak as she continues to speak. “Extremely comfortable.”
“Are you lying? I don’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable with me, Marinette.”
She squeaks when Henrietta decides to complain about being in her arms, trying to flap out of her grasp and try to fly onto the floor. “You don’t make me uncomfortable at all, Chat! Please don’t think that— I— you could never make me uncomfortable.”
“Here, let me—” He takes Henrietta out of her arms, tucking the little hen close to him.
“Oh, I—” She snaps her jaw shut. “You know, I have to leave.”
His eyes widen. She takes in the snap of his tail as he stands up straighter, his ears going ramrod straight, looking at her with such alarm that it almost shocks her herself— the tattoos on her ears start to burn as his magic flares. It flares more wide than tall, stretching to its limit, encompassing nearly everything around them, leaving her looking at him in awe at the actual expanse of his magic. Just how big of a reach does it actually have? Just how much of a range does Chat Noir’s magic go to? “Leave? Wait, where are you going?”
Oh, stupid! “I mean— I have to leave to go to the market to get more flowers. No— I mean— flour—”
“You’re leaving to get flowers?” He winces.
His magic continues to surge against hers, wider and wider, forcing hers to open up just as much in order to match his correctly. She can feel her magic stretch further than ever possible, trying to meet his from border to border, trying to push up against his in a perfect mirror. Is he… afraid? What is that feeling? She can’t place it at all. Why does her magic continue to try intertwining and swirling with his, trying to soothe him without her even directing it to?
“D-did you not like the lily?”
Oh, stupid little witch!
She takes a step back, noticing the way his eyes shine with sorrow she can’t place, and reaches for his arm. She can’t pull on it, not as he holds Henrietta, but she gives him a squeeze. “Oh, no, Chat, that’s not true at all. I loved the lily. My goodness, I’m in love— er, I mean, with the flower, of course— I’ve never gotten a flower before and I’m just so amazed that you ended up giving me my favorite flower— I just— please, Chat, it’s okay. Please don’t worry. It’s okay, kitty-cat. I love the gift too much to bear, almost.”
His ears flatten against his head. “Please don’t go.”
Sweet Tikki. At what point had her demon been convinced that she was taking back their demon seal agreements? After a full year of preparing for his help— why does Chat Noir believe that she doesn’t want him around for help anymore?
“I promise I’m not leaving, Chat, not permanently. I meant to say that I just need to go to the market to get flowder powder.” She scrunches her face, trying her hardest not to give herself another silly pat to the cheeks. “No— I mean— plowder flour. Oh, sweet Tikki. I need ingredients for the lover-honey cookie.”
“Powder flour,” His face relaxes, finally registering what she’s meant. She watches his relief spread across his entire body, starting from the way his ears sag slightly in a more comfortable position— his shoulders drop a smidge— his tail stops flicking— she can’t help but watch with a slack jaw as his magic starts to curl and coil its way back into shape, tugging at hers in a way that feels like he’s pulling her closer for a hug. She feels warm all over, giddy at having her magic being unfolded, matching his perfectly. She never knew she had so much of a range to her magic— what else is there about their connection that she doesn’t know about? “Do you mean a bag of flour?”
“Yes, flour,” She viciously nods her head, ignoring the curls in their magic as they push and pull against one another. “Do you— do you want to come with, so that you don’t feel like I’m leaving you?”
He perks up. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“Of course I do.” She wants him to stay with her forever.
“Ah. Actually, you know, it’s best if I finish up the post I was working on.” He looks upset at having to take it back, at least, giving Henrietta a loving brush with his claws from her neck down. “We don’t want the girls to keep escaping ever again, right?”
“Right. Yes. You’re completely right.” Oh, she could weep. How in the world did she manage this? “I’m going to go get our coin pouch, but I’ll be back from the market before you know it.”
“Right,” His ears twitch as he tries for a smile. “Yeah. Of course.”
-*-
“Stupid stupid stupid.” She tries not to kick up any of the dirt around her with her boots as she continues to walk down the path towards town. Oh, she’s miserable. Absolutely miserable. She never meant to hurt Chat Noir’s feelings in any way— her day dreams have made their interactions completely and totally awkward.
What is with her?
She needs to get her act together.
She has to.
Chat Noir doesn’t deserve her freaking out at every little touch and glance.
Oh, the way he looked at her, as if she were the one capable of burning him into a crisp, just by the way she had spoken about leaving. How could she ever do that to her Chat Noir? She wouldn’t dare even dream of it. Her earlobes burn at the sensation of having to pull away from Chat Noir’s magic— a curse, unfortunately, of having her soul bonded to the demon. It’s painful like a phantom pain— it’ll go away for a while just to come back and remind her that she’s too far away for their magic to reach and intermingle.
Although, now that she knows that his range can go much further, she’s tempted to believe that it must be psychosomatic. Maybe it’s her own worries being projected onto her own tattoos, but she’s not certain of it.
She stops to wipe at her eyes. Miserable. Absolutely miserable. She’s going to end up losing her friend this way, just because she couldn’t find it in herself to stop behaving like a lovesick girl batting and fanning her eyelashes at the first pretty boy she sees.
It doesn’t help that he’s pretty, either. With beautiful lashes and such a boyish smile that makes her heart rate go up and golden honey-colored hair and perfect green eyes— oh, Tikki! What should she do now?
She turns around, checking to see if she’s far away from the cottage to try to gauge if she can start screaming into her aprons without him hearing, only to see a black cat following along the dirt path with his tiny little paws. He meows at her, blinking slowly at her with green eyes, tilting his head just enough to imply that he’s asking a question.
She stares at him just a smidge.
“Oh. Did you decide you want to come with me?” She steps closer, infinitely grateful that she hadn’t started her desire to bury her face into the fabric of her dress.
Her magic curls against his on sheer instinct, but she registers something odd about it the moment their magic try to interlock. Usually it is nothing short of a perfect shape against each other, like their combined magic were made to fit together— but this feels like there are gaps. Where her magic should be filling in the gaps, instead, she finds her magic hesitating in some spots and areas, as if it is too shy to intermingle. She can’t find the edges to his magic at all, even as she tries stretching hers out manually and she wonders if he’s followed her because he’s afraid again.
Chat purrs when she picks him up. He’s a soft little thing, perfectly sweet and pliable in her arms as she turns him and pets along his chest, letting her hug him tight to her stays. She sighs into his forehead. The poor dear follows her to the market, truly concerned that she’s leaving… how can she ever allow herself to not tell him the truth, since the perfect moment is being presented to her now? “You know, I’ve never been considered a bold person, but I’m always willing to try if it’s for you.”
Chat’s tail flickers, giving her an indication that he’s listening.
“I’m sorry for hurting you today— it was never my intention to make you look so sad. Never in my life did I imagine that you would be upset at me leaving the house— I never want to see that face on you ever again, if we can avoid it.”
Her tattoos on her ears start to prickle at the words I want. After all, part of the rules of being her contracted demon is to take into account her wishes— however, she doesn’t want him to think she’s commanding him. Ever. He is always free to choose on what to do when she accidentally uses those words.
“I need to be honest with you.” She starts, desperate not to look down and attempt to gauge his reaction. “I do not want anything about our relationship to change, even after I say this— I understand. I really do. Please do not think you have to answer, or even give a response, I’d like for you to just listen for a little bit. It’s easier when you’re in this form for sure.”
Chat Noir chirps in her arms.
“I don’t want you to ever think that you make me uncomfortable, because that simply isn’t true. I understand that you want nothing to do with me in the same manner that I do with you— you will always be my familiar and my friend.” She feels giddy, being able to finally say it out loud. “My feelings for you are very strong. You’re my most valuable companion— and— and I— I thank Tikki every day for all the moments I can share with you.”
He butts her on her collarbone, nuzzling into her shoulder.
“The face you had made just moments before I’d left the house— your magic swelling up like a cloud, like it does now— I do not want that to ever happen again. You will never make me uncomfortable— and you never have. I value you so much. Too much. I care about you too deeply. I don’t need to cookies to know that I have feelings for you.”
Chat Noir stops moving.
And that says all.
She steels herself. “Do you think I’m playing a prank on you? Do you truly not believe me?”
He’s almost like stone in her arms.
“I— I would never do that to you. Please, don’t assume things like that. My words are pure.” She sighs to herself when his only response is to flick his tail. “Why don’t we go shopping for the bag of flower so I can make the cookies and prove to you my feelings?”
AO3 | Start Here | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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watarigarasu · 4 years
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Delicate
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Pairing: Kíli x Reader
Word count: 4,069
Warnings: Violence
Synopsis: Kíli has always been so delicate around you, it’s hard to believe what he’s capable of on the battlefield.
Author’s note: For once I’m not late to Kili Ktuesday, yEAHHH!
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Kíli has always been the gentlest person you have ever met.
He was kind and loving, respecting you and listening to your opinions, he was protective and ready to fight even the most dangerous, horrifying creatures just to make sure that you, his brother and uncle were safe. He was brave and you admired him for that, just like you felt impressed by his fighting skills. But what was the most important is that, contrary to the harmful stereotypes repeated over and over by different races, he truly was delicate.
That is why it was so hard for you to witness him splitting the orc’s skull open with nothing but the shield and the mere strength of his bare arms.
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You were marching through the meadow showered with the various kinds of enormous flowers, causing the whole landscape to look as if someone scattered the colours all over the vivid green grass, the fairy paysage reaching the very horizon. Fluffy bees buzzing in the air were harmless, flying past you with no intention to sting, covered in the flowers’ powder, just like the butterflies with their wings designed in the most creative ways you could ever imagine. The sky above you was crystal clear, the sun delightfully warming your skin and the birds chirping in the distance—the perfect scenery of serenity and peace, the true embodiment of the beauty of nature.
“What are you thinking about?” Kíli approached you with the wide smile on the face, hands behind the back and the happy strut from time to time.
“Nothing much,” you hummed. “Just enjoying the moment.”
“Indeed, it is rather nice when there is no army of wargs chasing after you,” he chuckled.
You nodded and before you could say anything else, Kíli reached toward you vigorously and almost hit you in the face with the bouquet of various field flowers.
“There,” he stated, trying to sound as serious as possible, although it was hard for him to keep the composure and pretend to be more mature when he was looking at your lovely face, now painted with utter surprise. “Not so pretty flowers for the prettiest lady.”
“T–thank you,” you accepted the gift and smelled the flowers. “I actually think it is quite pretty.”
“That is a relief then,” he sighed theatrically. “If it was not, I would have to run all the way down there, to that tree, because, you see, the biggest poppies are growing just under it.”
“You really do not have to do that,” you assured.
“Are you sure? Because if you would want me to…”
“No, no, I am serious!” you repeated, now slightly concerned about the wink he gave you, knowing perfectly well what was that supposed to mean. “Those are perfect, Kíli, no!”
But he was running already, jumping over the larger rocks lying on the ground in between the grasses. You heard some comments from the other members of The Company about how was this kid nothing like his uncle Thorin and how the love was really making him even bigger oaf than he already was, and you could not help but smile at the sight of him disappearing from your sight on the meadow. It was heartwarming to see him being so cheerful whenever he was around you, always knowing how to talk to you in a way you never wanted it to stop, the time spent with him always being the most comfortable and joyful.
Soon, he was back with, indeed, the most enormous poppies you have ever seen and just when he was about to give them to you, he suddenly stopped and eyed the flower crown in your hands, made from the bouquet he brought you earlier.
“There,” you repeated his words and placed it on top of his head, noticing how the blue bells were perfectly contrasting on his dark hair. “Not so gold and certainly not real crown for the very precious and real prince.”
The blush which appeared on his cheeks was almost the same colour as the poppies in his hand.
“Thank you,” he answered honestly, readjusting the crown to make sure it won’t fall off. Then, he cleared his throat. “I am honoured to receive such a present from my beloved princess. I will wear it like the most cherished treasure until my last days—or something of this sort.” He giggled. “I mean it, thank you.”
“And I thank you for the royal reds, my prince,” you proclaimed while accepting the poppies. “May it be the sign of our glory or whatever.”
“Shall we seal the deal with the royal kiss, my princess?”
“Yes, we shall, my prince.”
“I will kick both of your peasants’ asses if you do not hurry up!” Dwalin’s voice echoed in the distance before you truly managed to kiss and it was enough to make you run after The Company, which was now almost reaching the forest—for this whole time, Kíli’s hand never letting go of yours.
Just as he promised, he kept the crown and insisted on wearing it even during the sleep. Naturally, the flowers began to wither and the next day they were nowhere near as good looking as before, which did not stop him from carrying it in his bag. You noticed how gentle he was with the colourful petals and it surprised you how similar it was to the way he was treating you—his touch on your hands delicate and careful, never crossing the border of what could be uncomfortable for you, appreciating you in the ways you loved the most.
The way Kíli was running his fingers through your hair never failed to make you purr, and sometimes you wondered how could he be such a skilled warrior as well. The braids he did were usually thin and he knew at least three ways to make them, working with his fingers precisely and never missing any details, wanting to make it as close to perfection as possible.
You have never seen his hands trembling, not when he was aiming the arrow, nor while putting on the bead.
“I love you so much I do not want to sleep because it means that I will have to miss whole hours without looking at you,” he confessed once, when you were lying next to him in a camp. “It is stupid, isn’t it?”
The rest of The Company seemed to be deep in sleep, but you were both observing the night sky, recognizing some on the constellations and the round, bright moon.
“I do not think this is stupid in the slightest.” You looked at him. “The fitting word would be ‘adorable’”.
“I can assure you that I am nowhere near adorable if I do not get enough sleep, my dear.”
“Oh, I have seen that,” you snorted. “Mr. Grumpy Face.”
“See? That is why it is not good at all.”
“Would it make you fall asleep quicker if I moved somewhere else then?”
“No way!” Kíli sat violently and pointed a finger at you. “Do not even think about it.”
“Why?” you giggled. “Am I not such a big distraction all of a sudden?”
“You are the biggest distraction but it does not mean that I do not want you here with me.” He moved closer and covered you with his blanket, placing his cheek on your chest. “Much better.”
Rolling your eyes, you stroked his hair, finding few tiny leaves there from the time when you were walking through the forest. The feeling of his weight on you was as good as the warmth of his body, providing you much more heat than the dying fire in the middle of the camp. You kissed the top of his head and he murmured something incoherent, his hand embracing your waist and breath becoming steady and rhythmical.
Now, Kíli truly could fall asleep quickly if he only wanted to. And resting in your arms, feeling your scent and hearing the soft beating of your heart was like the greatest lullaby, the one he would never get bored of.
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You were not expecting to encounter a group of orcs in the middle of the night. You were not prepared to fight, you were exhausted after the whole day of march and losing the track and yet you found yourself in the situation you never wanted to be in. Darkness around you, the flickering torches and burning arrows were not making it easier to spot the enemy in between the monumental trees, on the contrary, the more heated the battle was becoming, the more terrified and lost you felt. You knew how to fight and defense yourself, you were no amateur, even though you were no comparison to the skilled Dwarves, nevertheless the shouted orders and shrieks of slaughtered orcs turned your blood cold.
You could die here; once any of the enemies would find your temporary hideout behind the rock, you would be dead. That vision was always somewhere in the back of your head, reminding you how dangerous the whole quest was, but now, when it became real, you felt as if it drained the latest drops of courage from you. Feeling helpless was certainly not the way you wanted to feel while dying but it was so hard to move, to jump out of the safe place and fight for your life.
Wiping off the wet trails left by the unwelcomed tears, you grabbed firmly your weapon. There was no way you were just going to sit there and wait, not when all the rest was risking it all for the sake of The Company.
For Kíli.
You might be scared but you were no coward and with that thought in mind you stood up and quickly eyed your surroundings, checking for the rest of your friends and for the orcs to aim to.
Heavy sword sliced the air and hit the tree near you so suddenly, you jumped aside in the last second and maybe even screamed, not expected to be spotted so fast, nor attacked from behind. The adrenaline in your veins was not helpful at all, silencing your rational thoughts and replacing them with the simple, primitive command which would allow you to stay alive—run.
But you did not want to run, you wanted to fight, but you did not want to die either and you stood there for what seemed like the whole eternity, until the orc managed to get his sword back from the tree trunk and swift at you once again.
The arrow pierced his throat with such a force that the fletches reached the open wound and changed colour from bright yellow to the black as the blood gushed from his ripped neck over his bare torso and shoulder. Involuntarily, the orc reached for his throat to stop the bleeding, dropping his sword in a meantime but before he managed to do it, the second one landed deep in his thick skull. You watched him wobble, the loathsome, gurgling sound leaving past his lips and an open hole in the neck, the dark blood dirtying the ground in front of your feet and the head of the other arrow almost piercing his head from the inside, right above the left eye.
He was dead before he fell down on the mossy earth and all you could to was to stare at him pointlessly for who knows how long. What snapped you back to reality, however, was the hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you after, the familiar voice waking your senses up.
“Come on, we need to go,” Kíli ordered, now sounding nowhere as kind and sweet as he always did when he was talking to you. He was harsh and rough, his grip a little bit too tight, his pace fast and confident as he held the bow in the other hand, ready to kill.
“Kíli…?” you muttered so quietly, that he could not hear you in the whole cacophony of the battle. The screams were so loud in your head, the image of the dead orc still vivid in your memory and it felt as if Kíli’s hand was the only thing keeping you sane.
“It is alright,” he said, peeking over his shoulder to make sure that you are still with him, body and mind. “It will be over soon but you need to hide.”
The expression on his face was completely different, too, the brows furrowed, the darkness in his eyes malevolent, his jaw clenched tightly, black blood staining his temple and his whole body language giving a very clear sign that he was ready to attack in any moment—to slaughter whoever dared to even try hurting you or any other member of The Company.
You have never seen him like this before and it was downright terrifying.
It was you who spotted the next enemy first this time, and you shouted at Kíli to watch out before any of you would get killed. Kíli was agile and skilled with his bow, that is why it took him no longer than a blink of an eye to grab the last arrow from the quiver and shoot.
And miss for barely an inch.
The orc lost his balance, harmed but not killed and it gave you enough time to separate from Kíli to not distract nor slow him down. Still, he had no more arrows so he drew the heavy sword and weighted it in the hand, the challenging smile on his lips proved that he was not afraid and certainly not going to give up.
Before you could intervene, the two swords clashed against each other and you realized that this fight was far above your fighting skills, their movements quick and inhumanly strong, measured perfectly to kill—and yet, Kíli was the first one to make a mistake and eventually lose his weapon. You watched in terror as the blade landed too far from his reach and just when you gritted your teeth, ready to jump in the middle of them just to make sure that Kíli will get untouched out of this, you heard him desperately shout at you.
“Run, for Mahal’s sake, get away from there!”
But you did not. Instead, you positioned your weapon, now that the orc noticed your presence nearby and turned its head toward you. Kíli cursed multiple times in Khuzdûl language, torn between rushing to save you with bare fists and running to the opposite direction to get his sword back.
You have always admired his courage and bravery. You were impressed by how his heart seemed to hold no fear, at least until now—until he was weaponless and looking at that filthy creature coming to kill you in front of him. That is when you glimpsed the very real and paralyzing dread in his teary eyes and expression and it was the most miserable view you have ever experienced.
No matter how much time you would have, it was impossible for you to reach the vulnerable places in the orc’s body, shielded with the thick armour and his height way too intimidating and out of your reach. Nevertheless, you had to try or at least to give Kíli enough time to collect his sword back so he could defend himself. What you could not predict, however, was how he was not going to go and get it, instead deciding to protect you with anything he could lay his hands upon. In this case—on a heavy shield carried by the orc.
Kíli managed to surprise him with that move and therefore whipped it from his hand, instantly hiding behind it when the blow fell upon him. It did not make him lose his balance, even though the impact was surely strong enough to kill you at once. The fierce rage was fueling enough to make him attack an orc with nothing but the shield, aiming mostly for the knees so he could drag him down on the ground level—which he eventually did, breaking the knee with a crushing sound and causing the orc to fall down with a pained groan.
You have not heard anything happening around you, when you saw Kíli walking up to the orc, lifting the shield and crashing it down his head. Once, twice, three times; with every next hit the skull breaking further and opening, the shriek dying suddenly. There was warm, black blood splattered on Kíli’s chin and gloved hands, there was blinding fury driving him and there was no longer an enemy to fight, when the last blow fell upon the battered corpse.
Only then, you noticed how heavy Kíli was breathing, how much strength did the act cost him, how much he was afraid of losing you in such a cruel way.
How his hands were trembling.
He looked at you warily and you did not say a word, staring at him blankly, wondering whether you wanted to embrace him or run away.
Until then, he was always so delicate, after all.
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Placing the damp fabric against the sunkissed skin, you were slowly treating Kíli’s wounds, cleaning them first and then applying the athelas leaves on them and bandaging, hoping that the herbs would soothe the pain and help him heal quicker. Thankfully, none of them were deep enough to need stitches, not on Kíli, nor anybody else from The Company, since the whole group managed to win the battle almost unscratched. Right now, sitting by the campfire with the bowl of cold, river water on your knees, your mind was completely absent, thoughts wandering freely wherever they wanted to and your blank stare did not notice the careful gaze of Kíli, who was constantly observing your face, looking for any emotions which would help him guess how did you truly feel.
He could not find the proper words to start the conversation, for the first time in his life completely speechless, when the image of your terrified expression seemed to haunt his memory. He has never wanted to scare you, Mahal, all he was trying to do was to protect both of you and he got so lost in the spirit of the battle and his own rage that he did not think about the consequences. How could he possibly forget that you were different, that you were human, a delicate creature, moreover not used to participating in wars and not prepared to be found in situations like that one?
If he could only change the time, he would think it thoroughly beforehand, but he held no such power and the guilt was crashing heavily upon his shoulders. You were scared of him now and the thought itself made him want to cry.
“I am sorry…” he whispered finally, drawing your attention back to him and you had to blink few times to remember where you were.
Kíli smiled at you gently, apologizing, but you did not return the gesture.
“What are you sorry for?” you asked instead, genuinely not understanding. Your tone was quiet but calm, the dread leaving you some time ago, before you even managed to set the camp.
“For making you see that…” he paused and gestured vaguely with his free hand—the other was treated by you, a single cut through his arm not looking particularly threatening but you were stubborn to take care of it, too. “I did not think that you… I just did not think at all. I had to protect you, this is all that mattered. I am sorry.”
You placed the fabric in the bowl and your hesitant gaze met his, the dark eyes once again being warm and soft, so full of love you wondered how could he be the same person from barely few hours ago. Kíli seemed hurt, authentically regretting putting you in such a situation and it was heartbreaking to see him in that state.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Kíli,” you said. “Actually, it was me who should be sorry. You were all risking your life and all I could do was to–“ your voice cracked and he immediately hushed you.
“You were afraid,” he interrupted. “Everyone gets afraid sometimes and there is nothing wrong about it. I was afraid, too.” He lowered his gaze, now looking at your hands rested on the bowl and wishing that he could hold them. “I was afraid that I may lose you. And I was angry, I was so furious that I might not be able to prevent that…”
“But you did, Kíli.” Hearing his name spoken by you made him feel relieved, because if he was worried that it might not sound the same as before, he just found out that he was wrong. “You saved me and I will be forever thankful for that.”
He did not answer for some time and you wondered whether you upset him with something you said. When he looked at you again, though, you noticed how his eyes were becoming reddened, his lip wobbling slightly. The hopelessness in his next words hurt you more than any battle wound ever could.
“You are afraid of me.”
It sounded like a judgment, the verdict that he could no longer have any future with you, not after what happened.
“Everything you have ever heard about us,” he continued. “It was not true. We are not greedy and crude and brutal and I have just managed to ruin the whole picture for you. You, among all the people. You, the one I love the most.”
Kíli’s voice was barely a whisper now, a tear which rolled down his cheek and stubble leaving the clear trail in the dark, dried blood which he still did not wash off.
“I love you so much,” he confessed. “I would never, ever even think about hurting you.”
You reached to him without hesitation and cupped his face before placing a soft kiss on his pouted lips. He tasted the same as before, the smell of air and forest in his hair, and his hands gently wandering to your face, caressing it with his thumbs in a loving manner.
“I know,” you admitted when your lips parted but you still did not let go of him, the tips of your noses touching and his eyes appearing as even bigger and brighter than ever before. “I know you would not. I was scared and confused but please, do not think that anything like that could ever change my feelings for you. I love you way too much, Kíli, and I do not think I can stop now.”
He smiled when you wiped another tear from his eyelashes, before it would fall down.
“You have no idea how much do you mean to me, my dear. Never think of yourself as anything less than perfect.”
You kissed him again, quick and sweet but he did not let you go, holding you close to himself as if you were going to disappear in any second. Soon, his lips were on your cheeks and jaw and neck, when he was trying to kiss the sadness away from your face. His hands ghosted over your sides, caressing your arms and reaching to the hair, feeling the thin braid under his fingers and the small bead at the end of it.
There was no other place in the whole Middle Earth where you would be feeling as safe as in his arms, with your head buried in the crook of his neck, his hair tickling your nose and the strong embrace holding you against his chest. It was the place you could call home and always come back to it no matter where on earth would you currently be.
“I love you, my dear,” Kíli whispered and kissed the top of your head. “It feels like I have loved you long before I have even met you.”
He felt you smile against his skin and then kiss his neck. You adored it when he was so tender, so open about his emotions and the overwhelming amount of love he was feeling for you, the one he never even tried to hold back nor fight with. His heart belonged to you completely and Mahal knew that yours were all his also.
After all, you knew that Kíli will carry it with a great delicacy. He always did.
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merryfortune · 3 years
Text
Peck
Written for 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth
Prompt #41 Dove
Ship: Snowangelshipping | Asana/Chevelle
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! SEVENS
Word Count: 1,899
Rating: T
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Tags:  Fluff, First Kiss, Humour, Puberty Blues, Misunderstandings,  Mild Innuendo
  Asana had been thinking about it for a while now but it was probably time for her and Chevelle to have their first kiss.
  She had come to this conclusion after much thought. It just seemed like the next milestone they ought to achieve. After all, they have been on a handful of dates already in the short time they had decided to officially court as it were and they had also spent many moments holding hands.
   Though, it was in the sweetness of holding hands that Asana did predict a possible issue. Chevelle liked to go very slowly, it appeared. Asana did not mind but she still distinctly recalled the very first time they had held hands as a romantic act rather than a platonic one. It most certainly caught Chevelle up in a flurry, it made Asana laugh - both now and then - but she wondered if it was an omen that was going to set the tone for the rest of the relationship milestones that she envisioned for them both.
   Chevelle had lovely hands. They were magician’s hands, long slender fingers with a soft palm. Although, none but Asana knew this privilege given that he wore white gloves all the time but Asana had her tricks.
   She had invited Chevelle up to their private garden on the roof for a high tea. It was their favourite locale for a casual date; the sort of date that didn’t count towards Asana’s personal tally of all the dates that they had ever been on. Teatime and high teas were their private time to bond, not necessarily to date. There was a distinction though even Asana, ever eloquent, did often fail to explain it but Chevelle understood and agreed with her on that note. Though in this instance, high tea could absolutely be a date since Asana had big plans and she enacted them well before they got to the roof.
   She slipped out her hand to Chevelle’s right arm and interlocked it. Asana moved in closer and soon enough, she had Chevelle entangled in her own arms, making him a blubbering, blushing mess. But Asana didn’t stop there, although Chevelle’s reaction was already both sweet and satisfying. She slid her hands down Chevelle’s arm and put her fingers under the fabric of his gloves.
   He looked fit to protest her, even Trapigeon, ever loyal on his shoulder was making a loud fuss, but Asana came well prepared for any duel and love was absolutely the be all and end all duel. She nuzzled in even closer as she held onto his hand: both of hers locked over his, fingers entwining, toying with the glove, threatening to turn it loose, and then Asana gave Chevelle the look. It was utterly angelic. She batted her big, blue eyes at him and suddenly, her little dove was singing a very different tune to the embarrassed and rebuked one that he was trying to muster.
   “You are a sly one, princess.” Chevelle swallowed his initial reaction as Asana held his hand, playful and tugging at him, slowly wriggling off his glove until they had skin to skin contact. It was utterly scandalous. Salacious, even.
   But just once was enough to get Chevelle hooked on the idea of escorting Asana around like a true gentleman. Sometimes with gloves on, sometimes not. Now, Chevelle was comfortable walking around anywhere holding hands with Asana. On the school grounds, even in the corridors, and whilst on their dates around the scenic and romantic spots of Goha City, too. 
   However, that had been a while ago now and whilst it was a very special memory that Asana cherished, she thought it was high time to make some more like that. She loved the feeling of Chevelle’s hands - they were delicate yet made her feel safe to hold onto - and thus, she had no doubt in her mind that she would love the sensation of Chevelle’s lips as well. She had found herself observing him as he drank tea or ate sandwiches at their private tea parties. He carried himself exactly like a bird, behaving as though he were brittle and because of that, his demeanour was of grace and poise. Asana had never been kissed before but she was certain that if it was Chevelle, it would be entirely gentle and she couldn’t imagine a more wonderful thing.
   So, it was time to strategise once more and once more, her old faithful prevailed. She would be direct and forthright, no trickery or traps. So, she chose a date from the calendar and per her expectations, it was going to be a splendid afternoon for a tea party. Just herself and Chevelle, separated only by a multi-tiered display for their exquisite cakes, sandwiches, and other treats the Goha Sixth Elementary School cafeteria could provide. After all, it wasn’t just going to be her first kiss, it was going to be Chevelle’s as well, so Asana planned accordingly and she thought nothing would appeal to him more than familiarity and comfort, underneath a blue sky. She was swooning now just thinking about it.
   When the day came, Asana could not have been more pleased with the weather and had pep to her step all day. It surprised even Chevelle who had no idea that Asana intended to spring the possibility of their first kiss on him but was excited nonetheless for another of their tea parties.
   The wind was mild and the day itself was pleasantly balmy. There had been a soft rain the prior night and as such, the garden still glistened with a tender rain, making everything bloom brighter and more vivid. Their table by the garden centrepiece was set already with white linen table cloths and a display laden with macarons, meringues, and cucumber sandwiches without the crusts. It could not have been more perfect.
   Asana sighed happily as even though she had been the one to organise all this, it was Chevelle who was leading her through the garden bed paths that burgeoned with verdant flowers to their private spot. Hands entwined, of course. 
   “My lady.” Chevelle told her as he pulled out a chair for Asana.
   “My gentleman.” Asana returned the chivalry and sat down, Chevelle tucking her in. He then joined her by sitting at the chair across from her, the only other chair, of course.
   Chevelle smiled as he made an all but impossible selection from the goods in front of him and it was such a feather soft smile, it made Asana’s heart skip a beat. She watched, more eager than she meant to, as he gracefully poured out a warm cup of earl grey tea then took a sip. It only affirmed to Asana that she most definitely wanted to have their first kiss right here, right now and thus, threw all caution to the wind whilst Chevelle savoured that first taste of tea.
   “Pardon me, Chevelle,” Asana interrupted him and his eyes flicked up to her.
   “Yes?” he replied.
   “Have you ever thought about kissing me?” she asked, blurted out, really. She surprised even herself with just how uncouth she sounded.
   Chevelle’s eyes widened, he went bright red, “I - I could never.” he sputtered. “That would be entirely indecent of me.”
   “O-oh.” Asana murmured. She was uncertain as to how she ought to feel in the face of such a response.
   “We are far too young to be deflowering ourselves like that.” Chevelle continued, rambling and embarrassed.
   Asana blinked. It was just a kiss. Actually, it was just the mere proposition of a kiss. What was all this about being deflowered? Her eyebrow twitched as it just began to dawn on her but there may have been a misunderstanding between herself and Chevelle.
   “A-And what would I say to Galient? To my parents? No, it is far too early for us to even think about introducing chicks into our relationship.” Chevelle asked and his poor face was just getting redder and redder.
   “Chevelle!” Asana yelped. “Please, stop, I believe there is some confusion.”
   “Confusion?” Chevelle echoed. “Whatever confusion could there be, you are clucky already and I am still barely out of the nest. I could never kiss you because the consequences could be dire, I’m not ready to be a father.”
   Asana’s heart quaked and she wanted ever so badly to laugh at Chevelle but fortunately, she suppressed the impulse, “Chevelle, why are you under the impression that a kiss could, well, bear offspring?”
   “My parents have given me the birds and bees talk, of course. A kiss is what leads to the insemination of the egg.” Chevelle explained, indignant and folding his arms to prove his indignation.
   “I see.” Asana replied and she finally understood this situation. She nodded her head in deep though. “Chevelle,” she said, “I think you need someone else to give you the birds and the bees talk, because, er, when humans kiss… It does not turn out like that, not without a lot more… Machinations of the body, let’s say. However, I believe the kiss you were taught about was the cloacal kiss and I can assure you, I do not have one so no risk of chicks.”
   Chevelle, who had finally returned to his usual pallor after huffing and puffing and rambling, turned bright red once more. He agonised in embarrassment and Asana finally permitted herself a polite giggle at Chevelle’s expense. He couldn’t blame her. That was quite a mishap to make and though he had his hands in his face, he took a breath and was able to give Asana a sane and proper answer to the question that had catalysed this incident.
   “Asana, my princess,” he spoke very slowly, “I would be honoured to kiss you. Just once, though, just in case.”
   “So a little peck then?” Asana clarified.
   Chevelle slowly set down his hands and nodded, “That sounds perfect.” he replied.
   So, even though they had just sat down, they already got up again for there was a far more enticing treat than those piled high on the displays. Asana was suave as she got up, Chevelle was far more nervous than her and his hands shook. It was cute, making Asana giggle a small giggle, a superfluous breath, really.
   She stood close to Chevelle who appeared to want a bit more space. The compromise was awkward, not quite close enough but too far either and gave Chevelle the room to breathe that he apparently needed. His poor cheeks with their high cheekbones were slick with a nervous sweat and his pale skin was pink once more.
   “Are you ready?” Asana politely asked.
   “As I’ll ever be on such short notice.” Chevelle warbled back to her.
   “Good.” Asana said and she was the one to swoop in.
   The resulting kiss was anything but romantic, nothing at all that Asana had imagined but the fragrance of earl grey tea wafted through it so she couldn’t complain. Chevelle’s lips were soft but fleeting. The kiss lasted less than six or seven seconds, easily, but even after such brevity, Asana’s heart beat faster in her chest and she savoured the soft sensation. Her fingers brushing over her own mouth whilst she watched Chevelle retreat. He hid his face in the crook of his arm, clearly panicking that he had done something scandalous but it was just a kiss. Just a peck.
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yfere · 5 years
Text
Shipping Calculus! Live Updates from C2E72
A little out of order, but irresistible, to write The Rise of Fjord. Masterpost here.
-15 to Nott/Spelling So sure, the local Felderwin spelling bees probably didn’t see the word “Eldritch Blast” crop up all that often, but still—G? That’s almost as bad as Fjord’s new pronunciation!
+4 to Caleb/Essik as Caleb stalls for times to talk to the Fancy Wizard, promising to keep in touch, and the Fancy Wizard again pulls his Extremely Helpful “Should you require anything” business, which is, Perilously Close to a Princess Bride-style “As you wish.” Point loss for hurrying off and ditching the Nein at the first opportunity, the rude bastard
+4 to Nott/Jester for Jester defending Nott from Caduceus when he advocates for knocking her out and dragging her underwater with them, the son of a bitch.
+19 to Caleb/Jester as these two prove they are absolutely that couple who wears matching outfits all the time, or in this case, matching polymorph birds. When talking proves difficult, seriously considering mating rituals as a vehicle of communication (communicating Inner Feelings, we should say) “Thanks, Caleb,” which is always a point earner, Caleb advocating for a ghost book club with Jester and Jester agreeing, not to mention these two bookworms going gaga over the one (1) book in the Dust library, for ever so slightly different reasons. Not to mention, they are also Absolutely that couple that feeds each other, as they almost tune out the rest of the party being sweet over the bead of nourishment.
+17 to Dust/Stone/Clay as we abide by that most ancient of Shipping laws, “Fucking Until Proven Innocent”
+27 to Caleb/Fjord/Jester One doctoral candidate in the lab pointed out that both Caleb and Jester are confirmed Recipients of Fjord Winks, not to mention the iconic line “You caught on, and you’ve known me the longest,” meaning these two! Set apart for Fjord! AND, Jester immediately trying to feed Fjord the bead of nourishment after nearly giving everyone cavities with Caleb sweetness, AND, Jester and Caleb both Supporting Fjord In All He Does re: breaking up the ice, making it easy for him to see underwater or keeping him warm while he does it…That’s Love. How Caleb knows without even asking that the one person besides himself most willing to give up their magical items for Fjord is Jester Lavorre. Melora be praised, they all just deserve to be happy together, don’t they???
+9 to the Mighty Nein/Patriotism for Nott, Caleb, and Jester turning themselves red white and blue for their mountain journey
+17 to Jester/Caduceus “I admit it, you were right,” Caduceus says, radiating Longsuffering Partner Vibes. Giving Jester Resistance #BuffingIsALanguageOfLove, Caduceus wishing Jester would say the Wildmother is the coolest more often and Jester begrudgingly admitting she’s all right if not as great as the Traveler when converting Fjord proves unsuccessful. Caduceus being Very Into Jester’s porn reading, as well as her theory of the Dust/Stone/Clay orgy. Caduceus instructing Jester in the Ways Of Politeness by saying people like sending better “when they can picture your beautiful face.” I mean???? That’s flirting?????
+40 to The Mighty Nein/Ghosts with far too many members of the Nein thinking about ghost dick, Avantika showing up to ogle at Fjord, and in general all of the ghosts being big smut book fans.
+39 to Caduceus/Fjord !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! These two!!!! Fjord sticking by Caduceus at all times and wanting to do what Caduceus wants! Saying Caduceus is “inspiring!” Thanking him for being himself!! Caduceus saying Fjord will do great things!! The healing! Dropping the accent! Caduceus thinking the whole trip was worthwhile, just for Fjord! Melora! Insisting Fjord learned a new power, that he is valuable as he is!! !!!!!!!!!!!!! PICKING FJORD UP AND TAKING HIM AWAY TO REST, COMPLIMENTING HIS VOICE FOR BEING CHARMING SkhfhkadjkfafbjsfbjkKAADBADB
+6 to Caduceus/Nature as the trees give him The Nod.
+35 to Fjord/Jester THERE IS EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY IN THIS HOUSE 2NITE. I mean, besides making sure Fjord is Warm and Fed and Safely Carried Around (and the writing of Friendfiction), besides “you’re affable” and laughing at Jester’s porny mind and telling Jester to just do what she does being herself, besides Tusk and Accent Complimenting, Fjord…..voluntarily starts talking about Vandran, and has Jester call him? And Jester reassures him when the response isn’t exactly what he expected? They bond over how their worlds are getting bigger than they thought possible, the wish sometimes to just break away and find some peace, the knowledge that if they did decide to break away, that they would follow each other?? Fjord telling Jester how he lost his powers! Willing! To admit to weakness with her! Jester giving Fjord both her magical weapons, fuck it. Point loss because Fjord really is just never going to convert to the Traveler no matter how Jester tries.
+4 to Caleb/Cat Shaped Creatures for having Frumpkin keep him company while he did some Spring Cleaning on his coat situation.
+28 to Caleb/Fjord These two and their….hands. Mein Gott. Just….a lot of intense hand business (Hand Job?) happening over here again, not to mention the Symbolism of Caleb giving up some of his fire, that dangerous thing he didn’t want anyone to use, giving up that item that he and Fjord had both wanted way back in the beginning. The peculiar rightness of everyone handing their items over to Caleb to give to Fjord. Not to mention going on about Fjord’s Skills, the trying to look like Caleb, the “Some are better” accompanied by a Wink, the “What else have you got?” the “Maybe later.” Hahaha. Ha. Point loss for Fjord saying Caleb should stop reading so many books--even said jokingly the concept is Heresy and Unacceptable.
+40 to Nott the Best Detective Agency/Detective Work for making the connection between the green glass of Caduceus’ visions and the residuum they picked up on a previous Case. Now that….that is some detectiving, godsdamn.
+7 to Nott/Yeza as Nott wants to draw on her husband’s alchemical skills to figure out how to make purified glass out of residuum! See, you should just take him with you everywhere, like a potion-making Bodahn Feddic!
+20 to Nott/Fire Powers as, with two words, she set Fjord on fire and reduced him to a smoldering corpse.
+12 to Beau/Jester as Jester once more sees through Beau’s “I’m totally fine I’m not suffering AT ALL” act to give her the rod of handwarming, Beau talking about how much she loves the ocean (and being quick to call the ghosts Jester’s fans), Jester scooping up Beau in eagle form and saving her from plummeting to her death! Point loss because Jester dropping her may have been the reason Beau was plummeting in the first place, and being jostled around until you throw up is Not A Fun Date.
+13 to Caleb/Caduceus as Caduceus turns in adorable confusion to Caleb to define “alchemical” and gets the most sweetly straightforward response, the two of them as usual being on the Same Page when it comes to the necessity of polite behavior, and continuing their ongoing, understated Feud on who is going to have the right to feed the group. For once Caleb comes out on top (ha,) as Caduceus is caught unprepared with his spellwork and therefore cannot yet make Holy Breakfast on the Anvil. Caleb once more indicating he secretly believes he lives in a fairy tale, promising to follow Caduceus’ lead because this is “his story”
+6 to Fjord & Caduceus/D.A.R.E as Fjord refuses drugs from Beau saying he doesn’t need them (damn right!), and with Caduceus, who is generally very pro-drug, nonetheless refusing Nott’s suggestion to snort the residuum.
-100000000000000000000000000000 to Fjord/Uk’otoa, but more importantly +5000 to Fjord/Channeling His Inner Hobbit as he manages to overcome his own need for power to throw the One Ring into the fires of Mount Doom—I mean, Summer’s Dance into the lava of the Kiln. The man one-upped both Percy and Frodo, hot damn.
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cloudshapedpatch · 4 years
Text
Misguided Royalty
Chapter Two: Birds Can’t Keep Secrets
An Ancient China AU created by @mikoriin
First / Next
💚 💚 💚 💚 💚 💚 💚 💚
Many days had passed since the dark assassin had shown himself on the palace balcony. Despite her eminent fear that she would be killed any moment, the princess kept the endeavor to herself. There was no need to go about explaining it if she hadn't decided how she felt about it herself.
Deep down, Marinette's feelings were all mixed up like a bowl of rice and lentils. On one hand, she was infuriated that the people wanted her so badly to be killed. She hadn't even done anything!
But on the other hand, she was very intrigued as to why the most fearsome bounty hunter in the country had decided to spare her life. She certainly had never met him before, and as far as she was aware, her family was not in debt to him (Yu-Huang help them if this was true).
Although she decided to keep it to herself, she was absolutely itching to tell someone. The problem was finding out who could keep such a secret. Her mother and the Emperor were out of the question. They would try and have Chat Noir killed, and the young princess had not decided if this was what she wanted.
She could tell her maids or the guards, but if anyone asked them about it, they would have to confess.
She could tell Alya, but she already had a hard enough time controlling her tongue.
It seemed as though her only companion would be her trusted messenger bird, Tikki. If asked, Tikki would fly across the known world to deliver a message, though most of the time the only traveling she did was down to the village for Alya.
Tikki resided in the garden, in her own cage among the cherry trees. Though Marinette knew she should not be outside, she was quite fond of her companion and missed her terribly.
So late that night, she threw on her shawl and stepped out into the warm May night to find her beloved hummingbird. Tikki chirped happily when she recognized the princess. Marinette spoke soothingly as she scooped up the bird, which stood happily on her hands.
"Hello, old friend." The princess whispered, to which the small bird replied with a tweet. "It's been a while. If only I could keep you in my room with me. Perhaps we'd be less lonely."
Tikki only cocked her head to the side.
"Ah, yes. Hold on." Marinette placed Tikki on her shoulder to grab some pieces of bread she had snuck from the table that night. The bird ate it happily, for even though she was tended to every day by maids, nothing could beat fresh bread from her best friend.
"Now," the princess started, "I have some news. I'd tell the bees, but quite frankly, I'm afraid of them."
The bird said nothing. I'm starting to wonder for the princess' sanity.
"I don't know if you're aware of the cloaked man that has been handling bounties. Chat Noir, his name. Three nights ago, after Alya had left, he was on my balcony. Imagine! I almost died."
A slow, nearly melancholy tune emerged from her shoulder. Tikki was rewarded with another piece of bread.
"I was certain he was there to kill me." The terror of that night came back to her again. Through much subdued now, she started to stroll around the garden as she spoke. "I thought I was never going to be empress. I thought I'd somehow let the kingdom down before I'd even have a chance to fix it."
Tikki flew off her shoulder, making circles around the princess' head. The small blur of red flitted about happily. She started walking faster.
"But he didn't. I don't know why he changed his mind, but I am glad he did not go through with his initial intention. But now I want to know why I have a bounty over my head! I knew the citizens weren't fond of me, but I'd never known they hated me so much.
"Perhaps that is why I am not allowed to leave the palace grounds. If only I could explore just a little! Like you. Tell me, Tikki, what's the village yonder like?"
Finally Tikki settled on a grape vine. Marinette hadn't realized that she had started to run alongside her trusted bird until she was doubled over and out of breath. After a few moments, Marinette chided herself for slouching and held out her hands for her small hummingbird to land on.
Much to her surprise, a single green grape was in her beak, and then was dropped onto her hand.
"I'll never know how you find ripe fruit so early in the season, Tikki." She laughed a little and bit off half of the small grape, giving the rest back to her bird. Tikki happily sucked at the bittersweet juice while Marinette walked (leisurely this time) to put Tikki back in her cage.
"If only I was strong enough to bring your cage upstairs. Not that I don't trust you not to fly away, but you'd need a place to sleep. But you would miss the cherry trees, wouldn't you?"
Tikki perched on a small step made of a twig in her cage, chirping sadly as Marinette closed the cage door.
"Thank you, Tikki. Goodnight."
The bird flitted about her cage as Marinette made her way back into the castle quietly, and back to her quiet room.
* * * *
She awoke early the next morning to chirping from her balcony. She groaned and tried to go back to sleep.
Typical. You would think the successor of China would be a morning person.
The chirping resumed, and then a small song started. Marinette recognized it immediately as Tikki's melody. She only sang that song when she had a message.
Marinette scrambled up out of bed. She hadn't been expecting a letter. She wondered who it could be from. In her haste to pull on her stockings, she fell fell flat on her face.
Wouldn't be the first time. What a sweet, clumsy summer child.
But when she opened the door to her balcony, she froze. In the corner of her stone balcony laid the large bird's cage. A young, potted cherry tree with a few blossoms stood beside it. And in the small pouch in Tikki's black harness was a note.
I think I was more surprised than Marinette.
With shaking hands, she reached in to grab the note. Tikki stood still and proud and stopped tweeting. In messy handwriting, the note looked as if it had been written in a haste.
'birds can't keep secrets' was all it said. The events of last night came back to her. She had spoken aloud and wished that Tikki could be with her. Had someone been watching her? Listening to her every word? Her heart melted a little at the tree. They had even brought a cherry tree because Tikki loved them.
But who would have done such a thing? They must have been strong. For how else would they have gotten the cage all the way up to her third story room.
Wait. How would they get it up? She had been in her room all night, and she was a fairly light sleeper. Marinette would have heard them. The only way they would have gotten it there without going through her room would be if they brought it directly from the garden. But there was no way. The outer wall was flat and smooth. There were no stairs, and certainly no way to climb it, especially with a large cage and tree.
The only person she's ever seen who was able to get there was—
No. He couldn't have, right? Why would he?
Marinette looked at the note again. The paper was plain and the messy scrawls were scattered with small bubbles where the ink failed to adhere to the paper. It was cheap, she concluded. There was no such ink anywhere in the palace; it couldn't have been a guard or anyone else within the palace gates.
She ran to the edge of the low stone wall, hoping to catch a glimpse of him— or whoever did it— but to no avail. They had come in the dead of night.
Marinette had her suspicions. All signs so far were pointing to the black cat of the night. The only question was: why?
At this point, Marinette was convinced she had to tell someone. And apparently the garden was no longer a safe haven. She would tell Alya. Yes.
A piece of royal paper sat on her desk among her lipsticks, so she quickly scribbled 'Ignorant Nobles Create Wild Predicaments' before placing it on Tikki with a kiss and a goodbye.
The princess dressed for the day and wandered around the halls, looking for distractions (and unfortunately, finding none).
* * * *
The room was damp and dark. It looked like it hadn't been properly lived in for years. A pungent smell of rotting meat came from the shadows.
By the light of the sun peeking through a hole in the roof, a masked man came into view.
Chat Noir, the infamous bounty hunter, emerged from a back hall and into the main room. He was clothed in his cat ensemble, and appeared to be waiting for someone.
He stood around the room and waited for quite a while. He occasionally murmured to himself, only to grunt in annoyance a few moments later.
Finally, a graying man appeared from the same hall Chat had come from. He was tall, lean, and ghastly.
"Is it done?" Said the strange man, wearing an absurd amount of purple. Didn't he know only the royalty wore such expensive colors?
"Not quite," Chat Noir replied, "I have gathered some information, but she still breathes."
An icy stare penetrated through Chat's guard as he unsuccessfully tried to hide a shudder.
"I gave you a task. Shall I find someone new to collect the bounty? Or can you handle the job?"
Chat Noir had done quite a lot of thinking, truth be told. He knew exactly what he had to do, and how to fix his mistake.
"I can handle it. Consider it done. But I need a bit more time. I need to know how best to execute the plan... and her."
"Very well. You are dismissed."
"Thank you, Papillon. You won't be disappointed."
* * * *
Meanwhile, at the castle, Alya had settled down with Marinette with a bowl of dragon's beard candy in between them. The former was currently stuffing the sweet treat into her mouth at alarming rates, while the latter was working up the courage to speak.
"So you know how the people hate me?" The princess started.
Alya looked up from the bowl, cheeks puffed out. "Yep, but what about it?"
"Well, I sort of... possibly... almost... got assassinated?"
At this, the human messenger stopped chewing for a moment before being forced to continue before the large wad of chewy mess made her gag.
"What do you mean, almost got assassinated? Did you fall down the stairs again?"
"No! I mean yes, but! After you left the last time you were here..." The princess stopped, unsure if she wanted to continue. Alya's imploring gaze forced the words from her mouth before she could second-guess herself any longer. "Chat Noir was on my balcony. He had been watching me and planned to kill me for a bounty but he changed his mind."
The astonishment was clear on Alya's features. "Huh?"
"I don't know why, but he was holding his dagger and I fell and he helped me to my feet and then put away his dagger and said that he wasn't going to kill me anymore and then I went inside and he just left except I was thinking he—"
"Woah, take a breath. Easy!" Alya said, then took a deep breath. "This is grounds for an emergency message, not an 'Important News, Come When Possible' message."
"I didn't want to worry you!"
"I was here five days ago, Marinette. You should have send word as soon as it happened!"
"I'm sorry, dearest friend! Please forgive me!" Marinette half-jokingly sobbed into her friend's shoulder.
"Of course, Your Highness. I mean, as long as he doesn't come back."
"Well..."
"What do you mean, 'well'? Did he return?"
"I'm not sure, but two evenings ago I went to have a chat with Tikki in the garden. I had said aloud that I wished she could stay in my room so we'd both have company, and I added that I wouldn't because she loves the cherry blossoms too much. I awoke the next morning and her cage and a young cherry tree were on my balcony."
"And you think Chat Noir did it?"
"I'm not sure, but how else did it get up here? The only person who I've ever seen able to get up there was him. I still don't know how, but it must have been him."
"I see. Have you told the Emperor yet?"
"Goodness no, Alya. You'd think I'd have a little more self respect."
"You were almost killed! If you'd have died, all of China would be at the hands of barbarians! This is serious stuff."
"I still refuse to include him. I don't like him."
"Neither do I, but do I still pay my taxes and do my duty as a messenger?"
"I guess you do..."
"See? You should at least think about it."
"But perhaps I don't want Chat Noir dead!" The princess wailed, jumping off the large bed.
"Why not? Do you know how many crimes he has committed? How many people he has murdered? He's probably biding his time to come back and finish the job!" Alya walked over to her friend, giving her a hug from behind. "I think you should stay true to your heritage and to China's. I say we get a guillotine and behead him."
The princess could only sigh. "I... I don't know. I just feel like I shouldn't. And that's why my mother can never find out, and certainly never the Emperor."
"Why don't you refer to him by name? I mean, you can. He is your father." Alya chuckled, wishing to change the subject. If anyone heard the princess wish to spare Chat Noir's life, then she certainly would be assassinated.
Marinette glared at her. "Step-father. And I refuse to say his name. If the people call him Emperor, then it works for me too."
Alya could only laugh at her stubbornness. "Hey, are you really going to let me eat all this by myself? I'll put on weight!"
"As if the princess could gain weight either!"
"You're a twig! That is it, Your Highness, open your mouth."
Marinette ran away laughing as Alya chased after her with a handful of dragon's beard candy. They ran and ate and laughed for a long while more until Alya crashed hard on the princess's bed.
She could only look fondly on her best friend's face, brushing away some of her fiery red hair. The cool night breeze called to her, so she grabbed her shawl (which was resting on a chair by the door) and stepped out onto her balcony.
"Hello, Tikki." Marinette smiled warmly at the red hummingbird. Said bird chirped happily. "It's a lovely night. Do you like your new home?"
Tikki was silent.
"I wish I did."
"What's not to love, princess?"
Marinette spun on her heel and to her horror, there was Chat Noir. Again.
I hate him.
"You! You're back!" She sputtered.
"Why yes, I came to collect my thanks for my good deed."
"Your good deed?"
"Yes. How else do you think your bird's cage got up here?"
She was silent for a moment, studying him. He sat relaxed, reclining lazily on the low stone wall. His dagger was not in it's holster, and he wore the stupidest grin Marinette had ever seen.
"I had my suspicions. Have you been spying on me?"
"Perhaps, Your Highness. Is there a problem with that?"
"Yes, in case you didn't know, there is." Marinette huffed with her arms crossed, but the gesture only seemed to amuse him.
"What kind of problem? Do you not enjoy my company? I thought you wanted to spare me."
A small flame of anger rose in her eyes, heating them with the threat of tears. "You should leave. I don't know why you decided against killing me, or why you felt the need to bring my bird up here—"
"And a tree." He jumped down from the wall and sauntered over to her, stopping just a few steps away.
Warily, she continued, "...and a tree. But you should not be here. If anyone were to find you, they'd kill you on the spot."
"And you just couldn't bear the thought of losing me, princess."
"You know what?" Determination bubbled in her chest. "I'll just go tell my mother and she'll tell the Emperor."
Her hand had just closed around the door handle when his hand grabbed hers. "No! Please don't do that!"
A jolt of electricity shot through her, starting at her hand and spreading the warmth all over. Their eyes locked dangerously, and though the princess knew she should pull away, she could not bring herself to. The pure fear in his eyes stopped the blush that threatened her cheeks, and a stark realization hit her: he was just a boy, not much older than her.
The words caught in her throat, her tongue felt too weak to form words. After a few moments of agonizing silence, she nodded lamely.
As if he too had gotten shocked, his hand flew away from hers.
"I'll go. Sorry to have bothered you."
Pity swelled in her heart despite her best efforts to feel proud.
"Um, Chat Noir?"
He was perched on the wall, ready to leap away. He stopped and turned to face her.
"Thank you. For the bird cage and tree."
A curt nod and a two finger salute later, he had disappeared into the night.
And oddly enough, she felt a little less alone.
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song-of-amethyst · 4 years
Text
Piebald theory!
So I have just gotten around to finishing the short story "The Wilful Princess and the Piebald Prince", and I am saddled with unnecessary feelings but more importantly, it's theory time! (Spoilers (mostly minor spoilers but I’ll play safely) for the whole series below the cut, in case my tagging is faulty)
One theory I had at the end of Assassin's Fate had been about Motley, which I was so sure about that I was surprised to find no one else with that interpretation. For those I haven't talked to about it, the main catch of the theory is that Motley is actually human. It is not only because of her intelligence, though there is definitely that, and she definitely does not act like an animal to me. But also because she is referred to as the "piebald bird" in Bee's prophecy, and that made me think of Tawny Man's Piebalds, who were associated with the practice of using their beast companions' bodies to give themselves another life after their own bodies have died.
‘A piebald bird, a silver ship, oh what are you awaking? ‘One shall be two and two be one before the future’s breaking.’
However it is only now that I am appreciating how much of Motley is a reference to the Piebald Prince story. First, her origin story; she is a crow with a white spot that makes all other crows try to harm her. In my original theory, I was under the impression that the other crows had spotted (pun intended) the fact that she is human and that is why they attack her so systematically. Regardless of that, her physical difference and the fact that she was harmed for it are reference enough and I guess reason enough to call her the "piebald crow".
And then her coloring. She is white and black, and then after she meets Heeby she also gets some red scales. Redbird and the Motley Court colors were red, black and white, right? That is also when she gets the most "human-like" to me. She communicates almost seamlessly, she has her own motives, and it was the most frustrating thing ever in AF when Fitz was still thinking she was just a crow. I mean given that I was sure the "piebald bird" referred to her dead Wit-human living inside her I was screaming inside at his idiocy.
And that is it. Basically the theory now is, what if Charger lived on his raven, and then went on to live in its ‘descendants’ all the way until Motley? Isn't it because the crow was the Piebald Prince's Wit-beast that spotted crows were born? Isn't there some truth in the rumors about why Charger was born spotted?
I definitely believe that, and part of that is that I want Charger to have been able to witness what happened after his death, the song Redbird wrote and sang bravely for him, and the fact that his son came to be  the heir, though no one knew of that (the Farseers’ karma has a strange way to reward bastards, right, Dutiful?). But even for those who don't, there are at least explicit references to the short story in Motley. She is spotted in the colors of Charger's court, she has its name, and is called the piebald bird. Maybe Hobb really wanted her last trilogy to contain as much references to her previous rote work as possible (which I am not really happy for but whatever.)
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itsanerdlife · 5 years
Text
Everything You Want 6/18
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warning: Lies. Fuck ton of lies. So many lies. Lots of secrets. So many fucking secrets. Language. Violence. Slow Burn. Lots of fighting. Heartbreak. Death threats. Kidnapping. Murder.
Someone is coming for you and your son, Anthony. Too many secrets and too many enemies for you to count. You got out, for reasons. Secret reasons, only Clint Barton knows. Or so you think? Clint takes you back to the safest place there is, Avengers Tower. But how are you supposed to face Peter? Keep your secrets in check? Keep your feelings under wraps? It’s been almost two years, can you really keep it together? You just need to put an end to whoever wants you. Than walk away, like everything is the same, right? Or will you be the one surprised? Everything blows up, leaving you holding the shreds of your secrets and fear.
Tag List Is Open!!
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The team left for a mission, three days before. You’d made sure to send photos of Anthony and you, letting them know you were alive and fine. Anthony is down for a much needed morning nap, he’d been up since five this morning. He’d finally given in and passed out, after attempting to put him in the playpen for over an hour, he finally fell asleep in the one place you weren’t sure how you felt about.
You’re washing bottles, spoons, binkies and his high chair tray in the sink. The hologram monitored Anthony in the quiet, darken room. In the kitchen your phone played loudly, you were two expresso’s and a Venti White chocolate Mocha deep, to keep you on your feet. You stand in front of the sink, dancing in your place, to some Ed Sheeran song playing.
You were mouthing the lyrics, and rinsing bottles, placing them in the drying rack. You turn grabbing a towel to dry off the high chair tray, you come to a full stop. The team is standing around the kitchen opening smirking at you. You reach over, blindly patting for your phone, to turn it down.
“Well you’re back early.” You clear your throat, drying your hands.
“Where’s Jr?” Tony grins at you.
“Sleeping.” You flush pink.
“Getting some things done without him attached to you?” Clint chuckles as he moves around the island. He kisses your temple, grabbing a mug and the coffee pot.
“He’s just so clingy today. He was up at five this morning. This is the first nap.” You rub a hand over your face.
“He in your room?” Nat points down the hall.
“Oh no.” You swallow, looking down at your tangled fingers.
“Where did you put him?” Buck chuckles.
“Well you can see him.” You pull the hologram over, letting them see.
“You’re using my camera.” Tony grins.
“Well FRIDAY has access everywhere, I just asked her to peek in only while Ton’s in there napping.” You shrug.
“Hey.” Peter leans in, close to the image. “That’s my bed.” He grins.
“He wouldn’t sleep in his playpen, and I was trying to put laundry away and clean, so I just laid him on your bed for five minutes while I went to get him something to sooth his teething. When I came back he was out like a light.” You shrug, not sure how you felt that Anthony was that comfortable sleeping in Peter’s bed.
“Look he’s all sprawled out.” Wanda points. Ton was indeed star fished in the middle of the bed.
“Any plans today?” Clint sips his coffee.
“Besides nap time, dance party.” Sam smirks at you.
“Nope. Why?” You smile at them.
“There’s this festival thing, in town. We should go.” Clint nods, he looks over the other half of a banana you’d left out from feeding Ton, he shrugs peeling it and biting into it.
“Is that safe?” You ask, looking around.
“With all of us? Of course.” Tony snorts, his eyes glued to the hologram.
“Do you think,” you pause chewing your bottom lip. Peter settles to a stop next to you “maybe someone else should carry Ton?” You glance up at Peter.
“In case?” Clint nods.
“Just in case, say whoever this is, does show up. They want the two of us. Him strapped to me, is like two birds one stone.” You admit.
“I’ll take him.” Buck grins.
“We’re going to need a bigger wrap.” You smile.
“I’ll send an agent to pick one up.” Tony nods, pulling out his phone.
“Can it be in black?” Buck looks around. “Or like you know a cool print?” He smiles. You and Peter snort, shoulders bumping into each other as you stifle your laughs.
“Black with white stripes?” Tony holds up his phone.
“I’ll wear it.” Buck grins.
“Do they have Extra Large?” Sam snorts.
“More like Extra, Extra Large.” Peter laughs.
“It’s on it’s way.” Tony nods.
“Mmmmm. Mmmmm.” Anthony coo’s, everyone looks to the hologram. He’s rolling over, looking around, his hand playing with his binkie, shoving it into his mouth.
“I call getting him.” Nat yells, pushing past Buck.
“Romanov, you cheat.” Tony scrambles after her.
“It’s my room.” Peter jogs after them.
“No, it’s fine, just my child.” You wave, watching them chase each other.
“Nobody noticed.” Wanda laughs.
“What?” You look back at the hologram. Clint is already swaying with Anthony in his arms, kissing the top of his head as they leave the room.
“Barton you cheat!” Nat scuffs from the hallway.
“God son.” Clint chuckles. “I win.” He winks at you as he strolls slowly into the kitchen again. Knowing if your secret came to light, Peter would have automatic win over their little argument.
“You have lovely bed head.” You lean in kissing Anthony’s cheeks. His binkie in mouth, pushing them out even more. His brown hair rumbled and flattened in spots, he grins around his binkie. You pluck it from his mouth, grinning at him. “That’s mine.” Your voice childlike and playful.
“Mmmm.” Anthony swats for his binkie back.
“So close.” You grin.
“Trying for mom?” Sam grins.
“He says Baba, no, and pap which I think is binkie.” You shrug.
“Pap!” Anthony squeals, eyeing the binkie in your hand.
“See.” You shrug, looking back at your son, giving him his binkie back.
“Alright little punk, you tell mom to go get ready and we’re going to work on this walking thing.” Clint gives his god son a jiggle, making him laugh.
“Alright, fine. He needs clothes though. Nat, you want to pick something out and dress him?” You look to your friend.
“Yes. I win!” She claps, turning on her heels she hurries towards your room.
“Clint cover your god son’s ears.” You look over at him. He looks down at Anthony, Peter quickly places his hands over Anthony’s ears, everyone looking at you.
“Anything happens. You people swear, swear on him that your first instinct will be to get him back here to safety. I can take care of myself, you protect him.” You look around the room, settling on Buck. “You carry my son, you better keep him safe and I don’t care if you have to run, you get him back here without a hair out of place.” You settle him with a stare.
“I’ll make you a deal.” Peter speaks up, it startles you. You glance over, unsure how to look him in the face. “They protect Ton, they bring him back here. He and I,” he tips his head towards Clint “we protect you.” Clint nods.
“You already know I’ll protect Anthony. But I don’t think you get how far we will go for you.” Clint glances at Peter.
“Fine.” You nod, looking away from Peter. You were struggling too hard looking at him.
-------------------------
Everything Peaches 2/6/19: @xmtd5 @mo320 @all1e23 @courtmr @avxgers @eliza-kat @izzy--lee @irepeldirt @dumblani @crist1216 @a--1--1--3 @alyssaj23 @allyp1023 @joannie95 @nishanki1 @bugalouie @kolakube9 @rileyloves5 @sarahp879 @sea040561 @sexyvixen7 @pcterpvrker @pigwidgexn @doctoranon @tomhardy41 @abschaffer2 @justrae9903 @bookluver01 @teller258316 @callie-bear15 @nickimarie94 @wandressfox @amandab-ftw @carostar2020 @henrietteoaks @nea90sweetie @amberkay284 @circusofchaos @itsagalaxystar @bettercallsabs @miraclesoflove @lucifersnipnips @queenkrissy11 @this-is-mycrisis @sadyoungadult @destiel-artemis @xrosegoldwolfx @paintballkid711 @isabelcrichards @iwillbeinmynest @sweet-honey15 @chanelmadrid13 @mellxander1993 @killerbumblebee @spookygrantaire @geeksareunique @supernatural508 @sammysgirl1997 @itzmegaaaaaaan @booksbeforebois @optimistic-babes @childishhoebinoo @elizabethaellison @aspiringtranslator @mariekoukie6661 @pure-princess-97 @capsheadquaters @samanthasmileys @nerdypinupcrystal @atlas-of-the-world @youclickedthislink @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @notyourtypicalrose @petersunderoos96 @loving-life-my-way @buckystolemyheart @booktvmoviefangirl @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @dumbbitchenergytm @abbypalmer14-blog @fanfictionjunkie1112 @meganlikesfandoms @awkwardfangirl2014 @supernaturaldean67 @xqueenofthecraziesx   @queenoftheunderdark @writingaworldofmyown @supernaturallover2002 @daughterofthenight117 @mustbeaweasleyginger @mcuwillbethedeathofme @sprinklesandsugarcubes @whothehellisbucky-1930 @verymuchclosetedfangirl @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @wonderlandfandomkingdom @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @stupendoussciencenaturepanda @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @supernatural-strangerthings-1980
Marvel Tag List 2/6/19: @lumelgy   @dottirose   @jcc04220 @rockagurl @mizzzpink   @jade-taillia @coley0823 @widowsfics @bookluver01 @thelostallycat @shield-agent78 @dtftheavengers   @ilovetvshowsblog @capsheadquaters   @iamwarrenspeace @thefridgeismybestie @whenallsaidanddone @deanwinchestersrifle @fandomsstolemylife00   @daughterofthenight117 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect  
Peter ‘Fuck Me I’m Weak’ Parker: @ml7010 @ariminiria @dkpink123 @boltsgirl919 @quokkatrash   @everthenerd @ms-rogers06 @crayonwriting @baebeepeach @bellamouse16 @honey-bee-holly @messofamasterpiece @britkane-shsl-librarian @kiss-the-stars-goodbye
Everything You Want: @bellewithbooks @princessizzy36 @little-dr-cranberry @tom-hollands-blog @simply-sams-things @hitoshi-s-stupid-bitch @verymuchclosetedfangirl
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pandawritespoorly · 4 years
Text
With Time: Chapter 15 - Bullying
Author’s Note: Saturday, yay! I love updating. You guys were so sweet in the comments last chapter, thank you so much! I really love seeing what you guys have to say.
A slightly shorter chapter today, but that doesn't mean it's safe from a strong language warning! This chapter contains the words 'bitch' (twice), 'shit',  'asshole', 'bullshit', and 'shitty'. Enjoy!
Chapter Summary: Adrien goes to school, and Chloe doesn't hesitate to tell people the cold hard truth.
First |  Previous | Next
Adrien really dreads going to school everyday. To think that just over a year ago it was his biggest wish. It’s not that school is never fun, but with Lila there it’s exhausting. Especially without Marinette.
He misses seeing her everyday.
He arrives before Lila as usual, so there’s that. Alya is sitting in her seat behind him, looking downtrodden. That’s odd. He’s fairly certain it’s her birthday today.
“Hey, Alya.” He greets her as usual, half-heartedly. 
“Hey.” As usual, she doesn’t notice there’s nothing behind his greeting, but today it seems like she isn’t noticing much of anything.
“Happy birthday?”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”
Nino walks in mopey, “Hey.”
Was everyone upset today? Was there some news he missed? Maybe Lila had finally left. 
Speak of the devil and she shall appear, Lila walks in, “Hi guys! Happy birthday Alya!”
Well, he could always dream.
Lila manages to get a half-hearted smile out of the journalist, “Hi Lila.”
Lila sits next to Adrien, as is the usual ever since his princess left, “Oh, Alya, is everything alright? You look so sad!”
Alya thinks for a moment then, “Lila, did I do something to upset Ladybug? I think she’s mad at me. What did I do?”
Lila hesitates for a moment, then pulls on a doleful mask, “I don’t know if I should tell you. I’d hate to upset, especially on your birthday…”
Alya and Nino fall for it, hook, line, and sinker. They turn to her and Alya speaks, ”No, no! Tell me! It’s not your fault anyways.”
Crocodile tears come to her eyes, “Oh but it is! I should have done something! I just thought Ladybug knew better…”
Adrien mentally prepares himself for one of those days. It would seem his closest friends - Marinette and Ladybug - were Lila’s favorite targets. Either to hurt or get attention. Ladybug seems to be on Lila’s bad side now.
He hates listening to this nonsense in silence, but there’s little he can do. If he makes any sort of scene at school, Father would pull him out immediately and give him even less freedom than before. He would take it as proof that Adrien had been wrong and the boy would be trapped in his awful room for forever again. 
He tries to shut his mind down at school now. Numbness makes it go by faster, and no one has commented on his quietness. 
“What? What happened?!” 
“It’s… Ladybug and I aren’t friends anymore. She’s been talking with her and now she hates me!” The liar covers her face.
“Who! Who has she been talking to?!”
Oh no. Adrien pretty sure he knows who Lila is pinning this on. Please be wrong. Please don’t be-
“Marinette.”
Alya’s sadness turns to burning fury, “That bitch! She’s not even here anymore and she’s still ruining everything! I can’t believe she was ever my friend. It disgusts me!” 
Nino shakes his head, “Yeah, she really took a turn last year. Kinda’ a shame, she used to be so nice…”
“It’s just, she’s been talking to Ladybug, and she’s convinced her that I’m horrible. She must have talked bad about you guys too! Oh, I should have done something!”
“It’s not your fault. Just tell us what happened.” Alya rests a hand comfortingly on Lila’s shoulder.
“Well, a while ago, Ladybug mentioned she made a new friend - I was so happy for her! But then, Ladybug started being more toxic and she started being mean to me. I found out she had been hanging out with Marinette. They’ve both been bullying me for a while now… Ladybug helped Marinette hurt me that day…”
Oh no. Marinette isn’t even here anymore and Lila still pins everything on her. What is even the point?!
“Ugh! I hate that girl! She ruins everything good! I guess it really was fitting to call her our ‘everyday Ladybug’!” Alya stews for a moment, then pulls out her phone, “You know what? Ladybug clearly sucks. Paris needs to know.”
Lila looks surprised. Adrien sees the moment when she realizes that such a statement could put her web of falsehoods on the line, “No, no! Please, I’m not comfortable telling all of Paris about my failure to help Ladybug!” 
Alya softens, “Lila you didn’t fail, but I guess I won’t post something if it makes you uncomfortable. If that’s too much then maybe I’ll just delete the Ladyblog instead. It’s supposed to be a place for Ladybug fans, but no one should give a shit about that kind of person and the self-absorbed asshole that goes by ‘Marinette’.” 
“Woah, Alya, are you actually deleting your blog?” Adrien did not see this coming. The anger he feels at everything she just said slips into his voice despite his efforts to keep it level.
Alya looks at him sympathetically, “Oh my precious sunshine boy. I know you were a huge a Ladybug fan. It must be such a shock. I know it is to me. I am deleting my blog. Ladybug deserves worse for the kind of stunt she’s pulled. Lila is such a sweetheart, and to think Ladybug left her for Marinette of all people.”
Adrien can feel Plagg shifting angrily in his pocket and it takes every ounce of self-control he has to just turn away and focus on the front of the classroom. He thought school was a nightmare before, he’d forgotten he’s bad luck - it can always get worse.
Marinette’s lucky charm hasn’t done him much good recently.
Maybe she was the good luck charm in his life.
---
It’s lunch period and by some miracle no one’s been akumatized yet. Alya’s phone dings and he sees her look at the notification in shock. She opens her phone and starts texting quickly and furiously, mumbling to herself.
He sighs, at least she found a way to distract herself from hating his favorite people. 
“Come on Adrikins, let’s have lunch somewhere that people aren’t ridiculous!” Chloe hooks an arm through his, dragging him away. Sabrina walks beside them as well. They’re out of the school and on the street. They’ve been waiting for a minute or so for Chloe’s driver to arrive.
Adrien’s phone dings, it’s Claude.
  Kid Mime: i know you know alya. If you’re near her you need to get her to stop texting mari. now.
 Adrien’s heart drops. When Alya starting text a few minutes ago, had she really…? He didn’t stop to wonder how, he just turns and rushes back into the school. Chloe looks up in surprise and she and Sabrina follow in confusion.
He hurries into the cafeteria and sure enough, Alya is still furiously typing away at her phone.
He puts a hand on the table harshly, drawing her attention, “Alya, you need to stop.”
“Stop?! Do even know what I’m doing?! That bitch had the nerve to text me! I’m just giving her a piece of my mind!” “Adrien, are you really on Marinette’s side?” Lila makes her voice sound full of hurt shock.
“Bro…”
Adrien pauses. He wants to tear into them so bad. Marinette deserves better and so does Ladybug. Neither girl deserves all this hate, but he can’t cause a scene. Father would pull him out and he’d be isolated again. 
Alone.
Unable to see either of them.
Chloe shoves past him, “Really Césaire? Cyber-bullying? Leave Dupain-Cheng alone and listen to more of Lie-la’s nonsense.”
“Excuse me? I’m not bullying anyone! Marinette is the bully here! Her and Ladybug! I finally understand why she chose you - birds of a feather flock together!”
Chloe glares down at her, “Are you blind or just plain stupid? Dupain-Cheng hasn’t texted you back at all from the looks of it. Are you even reading what you’re sending? That’s bullying Césaire.”
“Oh, you would know.”
“I would.” Chloe’s voice is hard, “But at least I know my faults. You’re just some self-absorbed wanna-be journalist who can’t see what’s right in front of her.” “Leave her alone Chloe.” Nino glares at the blonde.
“Shut it Lahiffe. You had a crush on Dupain-Cheng and knew her as long as I did. You should know better than to believe this faker’s bullshit. I do find it interesting that you finally grew a spine and decided you should speak up to me. Where was that back-bone all those years I went after Marinette?”
Nino just looks at her. Lila speaks up, “Oh Chloe, there’s no need to take your anger out on us. Just because Ladybug hasn’t called on Queen Bee for so long…”
“And she won’t be again. She told me so last night. I get it, it’s her decision and I’m just glad she ever considered me. That’s not what this is about.”
Alya slams her phone down on the table, standing to get in Chloe’s face, “Listen up Chloe, you don’t get to pretend you’re better than us-”
“I don’t have to pretend. It’s just the facts.” She flips her ponytail airily.
“Just because your dad’s the mayor doesn’t mean anything. I worked for what I got.”
“And then you threw it all away for some fake stories. Some journalist.”
“Lila would never lie to us!”
“And Dupain-Cheng would?”
“Yes! She’s a bully!”
“Since when have you been so protective of Marinette, Chloe?” Lila adds in.
“Because she’s a better person than everyone here. Haven’t you noticed how much her absence has messed the class up? Sheesh!”
“She’s one of the worst people alive! Her absence has only made things better!” Alya is shaking in fury.
Chloe wrinkles her nose, “Let me know when you wake-up and look around yourself. Adrikins, Sabrina and I have places to be.” The trio walks out. As soon as they’re out of earshot, Chloe turns to her friend, “Did you get it Sabrina?”
“Yup!” She holds up her own phone triumphantly.
“Get what?” Adrien didn’t see what Sabrina had been up to during the yelling match.
“I took screenshots of what she sent to Marinette. I sent them to myself then I deleted the pictures so Alya wouldn’t know. I also deleted Marinette’s contact from her phone.
Chloe nods approvingly, “Good thinking. Now she can’t text her, because I doubt she put in the effort to remember her number.”
“Why’d you take screenshots?” He doesn’t understand the point of documenting whatever horrible stuff Alya said to Marinette.
“To report her for bullying, duh! Of course nothing will probably happen until Lila’s gone, seeing as even the school’s administration has their heads in the ground!”
Sabrina nods seriously, “That’s true.” Adrien isn’t experienced in how schools are supposed to work, “Is the school really so bad?”
“Adrikins, why do you think I go here? This place’ll let anyone get away with anything. It’s ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” She thinks, “Maybe when I finally go to another school I should have Daddy do something about that.”
Adrien looks at her in surprise, “You’re transferring too?!”
“Not until the end of the year, obviously. Sabrina and I are out of here, this much of a stressful environment is bad for my hair.” At his look she says, “Oh don’t worry, we’ll get you out too. It won’t be too hard to convince your shitty father that a school with a more prestigious reputation would be better for his legacy. Maybe you can join your precious Marinette.”
He flushes slightly at that, then frowns thinking of the texts she must have seen. He really hopes she’s okay.
Chloe’s driver pulls up, and they all pile in. He sends Mari a quick text before turning back to those in the car with him. There’s nothing he can really do now
He trusts her new friends will take care of her, at least until he can be there too.
---
Author’s Note: Don't worry, we're seeing Mari's perspective next week. By 'next week' I actually mean Thursday! I try to post bonus chapters for holidays, and Thanksgiving is already here!
I have the google doc that I write this on shared with one of my friends. We were sitting nearby when she opened it up to read this chapter. She read the title and strong language warnings and turned to me in a panic asking what I did to Marinette this time. I just smiled.
I usually try to prepare chapters to be posted the night before I post them, to make it quicker in the morning. If this one is a little late, it's probably because I slept in. I'm sick and it's finally the weekend, so apologies if that does happen. I doubt I'll sleep past my usual post time, but we'll see. On a similar note, I feel like I've forgotten something I typically put in the notes, but I'm not sure what. If you notice something, please let me know. It could be nothing, I've been feeling like that all day. I blame my cold.
Thanks for reading, and constructive criticism is welcomed in the comments below! Feel free to just tell me your thoughts too!
Actually, I really need to change my tumblr sign off - all I do is delete the link to my tumblr. Constructive criticism, thoughts, comments, or anything really are welcomed in my ask box or through reblogs. I’ll have to come up with a better way to phrase that.
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fandomplethora · 4 years
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(ummm, i’m not sure what inspired to make this post (besides the fact that i have been listening to this artist on a near constant basis now) but here we go anyways;;;)
MYSTIC MESSENGER CHARACTERS AS HOBO JOHNSON SONGS
Hyun (Zen) - 3% 
“you should go and quit your job and make all of those dreams come true. how is your self esteem? huh? that's important in what you're about to do. don't talk to your friends, their opinions hold so much weight. and that doesn't make sense. even your family, parents just don't understand. make the time. drop school, and people, and work to play music all night. you'll make a dollar an hour, at least you'll like your life. and roll with the punches even when it feels like you're getting fucking jumped but you're a real bad judge of it. hold on tight, boy. might be a fuckin', hell of a ride. but, but, but, they said it's a three-percent chance...that I'm gonna make it. that's a little bit less than what it is in my mind but it's ok, I think I can take it. they said it's a three-percent, my friends, that's what they said. and then I sat there and thought about it and almost believed it for a sec. but I think that they'll love me.”
Yoosung - Mario and Link
“mario's never getting some and link's never getting some, so why would princesses love me? i'm not really making moves, I'm just kinda breathing. i work at fucking pizza places just so I keep eating. (that's the type of shit)...thats the type of shit to make be buy a flask for 25 and fill it up with takka vodka only 4.99...yester-year yes-sir-please let me get the recipe, to not being broke. fuck I'd really love to be a king, but mario and link should've showed that perseverance is not the end all to everything. the princess in the hallway with a robe, I asked "do you for coffee and scones and she says "no!". but I just killed a fucking dragon though! with this sword that I made from the words of my soul. I just killed a fucking dragon though, I just killed a fucking dragon though. but its whatever I don't even care that much.”
Jaehee - Peach Scone
“...disregard every time I call you pretty. though it's meant sincerely it's just my imagination drifting...so I fall to ground, collect myself and get ready to take over your heart...or at least your spare time. and I love the thought of being with you. or maybe it's the thought of not being so alone. the second one's way sadder than the first one...we should go get a cup of coffee...I don't know what to tell you if I try to confess my love for- scones! i just wanna tell you real quick please, shh, I love- these scones! ...but she, you know, she is just so sweet and she cared about me a lot when no one else cared about me and I think that's really nice. really you know, she's just a, she's just a peach. she's a peach scone. and I love the thought of being with her, I just really hope that she doesn't get hurt.”
Jumin - Father
“my dad taught me 'bout the story 'bout the birds and the bees. when the bees turn into wasps and take half of everything. he sounded sure, that a bird doesn't need a full nest but a bed for our bird heads to rest...he told me son, beware, of the monsters that roam the depths of your head. sometimes they'll make you real sad or or real real mad, or real real jealous and that's real real bad. boy, breathe...my father's married to a shape shifting monster who can sometimes take the form of a really really really nice woman. and although it seems super fucking frightening, sometimes this scary monster makes a really really great vanilla pudding. he has courage but sometimes your courage isn't quite the kryptonite as the monster runs rampant through the house. sometimes your courage makes you feel strong but it seems as if the monster eats your muscles all along, fucking pickin' out your self-respect right out its scary teeth. her breath smells like pride of self and other men she used to meet. and the monster doesn't sleep - just schemes and fiends on the next tasty meal it gets to eat, it gets to eat.” 
Saeyoung (Luciel) (707) (Seven) - The Ending
“she said, "you're like the weird...guy...in all the movies, who turns into the hero at the end and gets the girl" and I was like, "shut your mouth". but I'm gonna take over...the world as soon as everybody dies. i'm gonna take over your heart as soon as I get the balls to try. Ima re-arrange the alphabet and then take "U" and "I" and put a bit of space between 'em and hope that nobody cries. ...Ima be a nice guy might fuck around, it make a difference. Ima hope for the best, but prepare for the worst...I hope that you don't fall into their schemes and what they say, when you look them in their eyes, that they don't choose to look away...I hope that you don't fall into my schemes or what I say. when you look me in the eye, I'll look you dead into the face 'cause you don't deserve to be fucked with unless you're a fucking asshole...yeah, I ain't shit I ain't shit compared to them, right? I ain't shit. and I know she wants a piece of this wit (no!) and I know she wants a piece of this wit. my wit, my wit, my wit...” 
Jihyun (V) - Romeo and Juliet
“we're just romeo & juliet but getting drunk and eating percocets. but just to ease the stress but soft what light, thru yonder window breaks it is the east - but juliet just puked off the balcony. how romantic. nothing like getting drunk and getting manic on a motherfucking monday, i brush the bangs behind her lovely little ear as she describes in detail how the end is truly near. wow, and I'm sure that we can do this for forever or until we drink the poison, 'cause she sees some cloudy weather. ...dear shakespeare, could you write a happy ending please? we just deserve a happy ending please, please. ...and every sting from every teardrop from every ring at every pawn shop. ...but dear mom, conversations from a couch haven't ever felt the same...my mom was made from adam's rib and the marriage went south...but dad loves to shout really loud. loud enough to knock the lamps and dressers to the ground. in my memory, i can hear chopin's nocturnes playing in the background, a slow trainwreck, you'll close your eyes, but forever hear the sound, and boy, it's tough. ‘cause that’s the sound of people falling out of love.” 
Saeran (Unknown) (Ray) - Jesus Christ
“jesus christ seems super nice, i wonder if he'd save me. i've been on the wrong side of a bunch of arguments lately. and jesus christ seems super nice, i wonder if he'd love me. how come I only wonder when I'm sad or really hungry? jesus christ, you're super nice but don't expect much from me. I would kneel down, but I'm afraid that I would just feel nothing. praise god and other things that don't make sense to puny minds, like ours, designing roller coasters that almost always seem to fall apart. ain't it fun, ain't it fun, ain't it fun knowing that. that one day, you know, I fly to the sky, to the sun? and jesus christ, you're super nice. so I'll write a song about it. or that no one ever knowing for always claiming they're about it. press "ignore" on both sides that always claim to know that they're so sure. or just not be a giant fucking prick and enjoy the show. I'll enjoy the show if I'm not a giant prick, does that just mean that I am saved? jesus christ, you're super nice, i'm sure that you could love me. even if I don't go to church every sunday. jesus christ, you're super nice, how could you let me burn? if I'm not murdering people, then smashing their fucking urn. but jesus christ, you're super nice, how could you let me burn? but if I go to hell, I'll grit my teeth and get to work.” 
? (Vanderwood) - Demarcus Cousins and Ashley *note: this one was more difficult because we are not shown much of vanderwood currently in the game though i do consider him a pivotal character - and one i want to get to know more as a player. we know vanderwood is a caring guy who can be rough around the edges - he’s also funny, awkward and, personally, charming. so, i look at this as him relating how he does care for those around him while comparing it to other shit he has seen. okay, analysis done. bye.
“I'm not a nice guy (he's not a nice guy). I go to jail sometimes (he goes to jail sometimes). but I am slowly getting better ever since a little lady wrote me such a lovely letter. I love breathing...I love drinking, but not enough to ever have to go to all those stupid meetings (let’s go)...I- I love you like the dog hates the leash and the leash loves the dog, like I love nothing else at all. love you like my dad loved my mom before they realized they don't love each other at all...I love you like bosses love to talk a lot of shit and like getting really mad when I quit, what? I love you like the bird hates november or just really really rainy windy weather. I love you like america loves to fuck things up and cops love to do things that are super unnecessary...and I love you like the stars love lonely eyes on seven consecutive friday nights.”
Mina (Rika) - Creve Coeur 1 
"hi," says the girl with the right eyes that pairs pretty well when she hits you with the soft smile. you can kinda tell that something's going on, but she's like a skrillex song that never drops, she'll never talk. she'll never talk about the feelings that she felt today. better kept inside of a fence, inside of a cage, inside of a safe. that's safe for her 'cause they just hurt. and she don't know why that god sauntered. I hope he's trying. she said, "I hope he's trying. do you think he's trying?" then I said, "I don't know" but I asked her, "what’s wrong?" she just nods her head. and then I asked her, "what's wrong?" and she said...hold me closely. I don't think you should love me. I always feel so lonely knowing that nothing will ever last forever. sorry, you're much too late, much too late. ("you are so late")...she holds her breath all day and fucking gasps for air at night. she promised she would love me but only 'til the morning time. sorry, you're, you're much too late. you're much too late, you're much too- sorry, you're much too late- much too..."
MC - ? (MC is more difficult...I almost can find lines from various songs but it came down to these two.)
#2 - Mover Awayer (and it’s mainly for this part only.)
“fear  the man who lives without love and  the lover who lives without fear. fear the man who always wants to fight, he's not a talker. fear  the talker who never wants to fight, he's got no guts. fear the man who knows he's gonna die so he cries every night and just denies his life's beauty. and  fear the man who has heaven in his plans, so he gets so complacent that he doesn't call his family. fear the man who doesn't understand that there's a million fish in the sea, but fear the girl who he really thinks is a different species, she'll rip your heart out. ...makes my Mondays feel like Fridays (give me a break)...makes my Ruby Tuesdays taste like Benihanas (give me a break) and all I've really wanted was for us to get along.”
#1 - Typical Story (I genuinely won’t even put the lyrics for this song because it is more about the theme and feel of the song itself - as MC is the only one “playing” and going through these character’s “stories”. Casual, Deep or Another. So, I will just recommend listening to it and reading the artist’s notes on it for why I picked it as number one for MC’s song.)
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theteaisaddictive · 5 years
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okay but you can't just tease us with a wedding meme mentioning ejts in the tags. spill :D
ask and ye shall receive my dear :D
1) Who proposes? 2) How do they propose? 3) Reaction of the one being proposed to
in the middle of the chaos post-transformation, belle probably whispers to eve that she never wants to leave her side again. 
‘i know, i know,’ eve whispers. ‘i remember. i’ll never leave you again.’
‘no, i-’ belle says. ‘i mean, i want to stay with you forever’, and she drops to one knee right there on the newly-constructed balcony, still strewn with rose petals and the rosy-fingered dawn. she holds out her left hand palm-up. ‘do you?’
eve joins her kneeling on the ground, her legs still shaking from the transformation. she takes her hand, her eyes almost shockingly large now that they’re in a human face. ‘yes. yes. yes, belle, dearest, of course.’ she leans over and they kiss.
they kiss for quite a while. 
4) How they tell the others
chip, of course, asks as soon as the general excitement levels have gone down, ‘are they gonna get married?’
the senior staff all glance at each other wondering who’s going to have to finally teach this emblem of hope for the future about homophobia, but before the silence can get more than half a step beyond natural, eve chimes in with an ‘of course we are, chip. in fact, belle asked me not twenty minutes ago and i said yes.’
while mrs potts is relieved that eve is human again and that she’s no longer cold and cruel-hearted, she notices a certain fire in eve’s eyes that came straight from her father – the stubbornness which means she’s going to get her own way come hell or high water. it used to apply to hunting, and petty matters of daily life. mrs potts is proud to see it used to marry belle. 
(marie doesn’t find out that they’re married for … a while. how long an interval it’s going to be? haven’t decided yet.)
5) Who’d they choose as ring bearer
chip, of course! who else?
6) Who’s the one that spends the most time worrying about preps for the wedding?
surprisingly, there isn’t actually a lot of time to prep for the wedding. neither of them have much of a taste for fancy celebrations and would prefer a simple ceremony, so that’s what they choose. (but yes, eve does manage to get her bee in a bonnet regardless)
7) When they go looking for their outfits
it’s less ‘looking for outfits’ and more ‘repurposing old ones’. belle would be more than happy to just wear her best blue dress, but even though eve had a transformative experience shaped by queer love, she’s adamant that belle has a new, different dress she’s never worn before for the ceremony (so belle is in basically the celebration dress from the remake, and eve is in essentially ella’s wedding dress from the 2015 film but minus the train. yes i am trash. no i refuse to apologise.)
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IMAGINE THESE BLUSHING BRIDES. ALSO YOU WILL HAVE TO IMAGINE THEM AGAIN FOR ROSES AND LAVENDER BUT PRETEND FOR A MOMENT THAT LILY JAMES IS PORTRAYING A GENDER-SWAPPED BEAST HERE AND NOT CINDERELLA
8) Fusses over the other before the wedding day
they’re both very concerned about each other and it’s very sweet. they both stay up the night before the wedding in the library, keeping close together as midnight approaches. belle rubs her fingers soothingly against eve’s head and intermittently finger-combs her hair, and eve absent-mindedly runs her hand in circles over belle’s back as they talk quietly about tomorrow. 
9) Reactions to their wedding attire
ok so how i picture it is that since neither of them have people to give them away (léon and cogsworth offered their services, but both women declined), they mirror the ballroom scene so their first glimpses of each other are as they go down the stairs to the landing before descending to the ballroom proper. both of them almost stop in their tracks because of how BEAUTIFUL and RADIANT and HAPPY the other looks to be marrying HER. eve cries two tiny tears before she even reaches the landing. 
10) Who whispers the other “you look great”
belle to eve. they’re holding hands as they walk towards the servants, lefou and stanley, wait why are those two there what plot points will they be relevant to and léon
11) How are they feeling during vows
nervous as all fuck. jittery. excited. overjoyed. eve actually does start to cry during her vows. belle doesn’t, but she gets very, very close. 
12) What do their rings look like?
simple, thin gold bands. they wear them on their right hands. 
13) The kiss
the vows are exchanged. the rings placed. cogsworth looks at eve, whom he’s known and loved for the best part of a decade. ‘and now, by the power invested in me by the princess of this realm, i declared you to be married. you may now kiss the bride.’
belle smiles so wide that it hurts her cheeks, and she and eve take a step forwards at the same time. eve sweeps her into the kiss, one hand resting on her waist while the other cups belle’s neck. belle rests her own hand on the plane of eve’s back, allowing her other hand to brush eve’s shoulder as she kisses her wife. and for a moment in that kiss, it’s like their first up on the balcony – uncertain and desperately tender. eve breaks to take a breath, and belle pulls her back in for another kiss, their lips moving gently as the gathered congregation cheers. because they kissed. because they’re married. because eve is her wife.
14) What do they whisper to each other after vows?
nothing. they just look at each other. they’ve already said everything. 
15) When cutting their cake, and afterwards
the wedding breakfast is basically a garden party in the grounds with the staff and aforementioned guests. there is enough food and cake and drinks for everyone, and as the afternoon fades into the evening the mood goes from bright and joyous to quietly happy, but in that way where the amount of emotion present is the same it’s just expressed differently if that makes any kind of sense. both brides make speeches, and both begin their speech with ‘on behalf of my wife and i …’ (they had to make lumiere flip a coin bc they both wanted to go first but didn’t want to take the chance away from the other and it was halfway to becoming one of those stupid fights that in a sitcom would be the episode one cliffhanger of the wedding two-parter, but luckily lumiere was in possession of the throuple’s two brain cells that morning so he managed to de-escalate the situation.) belle went first, but the line got the obligatory cheer from the guests both times. 
16) The two dancing together
chapeau (or a Chapeau-Adjacent Character bc atm i can’t remember if i wrote him in or not) starts playing the fiddle, and the wives take their place on the ballroom floor (the reception has moved back inside by now). think home (reprise), the high note then gently glissandos down to the beginning of beauty and the beast. (can you glissando on a violin? idk. maybe it’s just a piano thing but you know what i’m trying to get across here)
they dance the steps that they first performed while eve was still a bird, and then eventually devolve into a gentle waltz. 
after the first dance, it’s country dances for all!! poor chapeau has his work cut out for him, but léon can play and stanley brought his accordion so by the end of the night everybody who has to play gets to dance to at least three songs. 
17) Who takes a picture of the other
not applicable! HOWEVER plumette takes quick sketches throughout the day, and in later years belle and eve have official portraits taken in their wedding dresses on repeat wears, so between one and the other they have plenty of memories.
18) Who lifts the other up (bridal style)
eve sweeps belle off her feet (again) (it’s something of a recurring motif for them)
19) The reaction of the person being carried
belle laughs, shrieking a little because she was caught off-guard. she presses small kisses to eve’s cheek and neck until her arms give out and she has to put belle down again. 
20) Wedding night
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
no, no, no, i’ll be genuine (and mildly explicit). they leave (eventually). chip fell asleep about an hour ago. the night is (fairly) young. they go up to the west wing together. eve can’t stop grinning. she has a wife. 
once safely in the west wing, they help each other out of the fine materials of their dresses and remove their stays, but otherwise stay pretty much fully dressed. they pile up on eve’s bed, in a similar position to how they were in the library the night before; belle is lying directly on the pillows, while eve is resting with her head on belle’s shoulder and their legs intertwined. before long, of course, they start kissing. and they clutch at each other, pressing so close they can feel their heartbeats through the layers of muscle and bone and fabric. and eve takes a very long time to roll belle’s stockings down her legs, kissing each inch as it appears. and then she kisses several other areas of her wife’s body (and belle can barely look at her as she does it, but the sight of that blonde head between her legs causes her to dig her fingers into eve’s hair, and that was a rather interesting discovery for both of them). and then belle, after a moment to catch her breath, pushes eve over to her back and pulls off her chemise. and she is just as slow as eve was, tracing her hands over eve’s body, and when she does finally push eve’s chemise away to press her lips to naked skin, the look in eve’s eyes is one she never forgets.
and then, after a long while, eve says, ‘we’re married. you’re my wife.’
‘and you’re my wife,’ belle says just as quietly. she presses a kiss to the top of eve’s forehead. 
‘i never thought this would happen,’ she says. ‘not even before the curse. i thought i would be like my mother, and that the most i could hope for was either to have a husband who would be kinder or to live as an old maid.’
belle wraps her arm around eve’s shoulders a little tighter, as if she wants to protect the girl of eighteen whom she never even met. knowing belle, eve thinks, that’s probably the case. 
‘i’m so glad i met you, eve,’ she says. ‘i never thought this kind of love could be possible. i’m beyond overjoyed that it’s with you.’
she cards her fingers through eve’s hair, the glint of her ring catching in the moonlight. a few minutes later, eve rearranges their positions, so that they’re both covered by the warm blankets and she’s pressed into belle’s back, her arms draped around her. their hands find each other under the covers, and they fall asleep peacefully on their first day of married life.
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th0tcrates · 3 years
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Salmon berries are getting ripe, great news for hungry birbs
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mlbirb · 5 years
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A Damsel’s Reward
This is a WIP of a Miraculous AU I’m releasing for @purrincess-chat ‘s Miraculous Spooktober's Day 2 prompt: Monsters.
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“Wow! That was quite a flight, wouldn’t you say? It’s a good thing I always nail my landings!” He (it? They?) winked (winked!) at her. Her heart was still thumping painfully in her chest, and her entire body was shaking as she was held in the stranger’s arms. Her mind was still in the process of catching up with everything that had just transpired, but one thing was certain. She should not be entranced by those damn green eyes right now. Marinette shook her head and broke the spell the stranger had unknowingly put on her. She looked around as she gripped his shoulders (strong shoulders). The streets were damp and dark, but there was no sight of the white menace of earlier, nor of that patrol she feared to cross. The night had fallen, and only the stars and the soft glow of the street crystals reflected on her exposed arms. “...Uh… hey… you feeling okay? It… it didn’t hurt you, did it?” And exposed, she was. He still had not released her. She presumed it was a ‘he’, anyway. He sounded, and looked like a ‘he’ in her standard. At first, she thought he was a human, which would have cleared things up easily, but she had then seen the black cat ears in his blond mane, and his foggy tail. And the fur around his eyes. His monstrous cat eyes. Bright green like two fireflies. Familiar and unfamiliar. Monster with a human touch. Or human with a monster touch. She was too shocked and scared to clear things up. She saw the silver shine on his cheek. A soft powder emanating from an open wound. Dust. This gave her some answers.
His ears flicked in discomfort under her scrutiny. “Uh… Look, I… I didn’t mean to scare you if I did, pretty one… miss? Mister?” “Miss,” she blurted out. Her voice was hoarse. “I mean-I’m fine! Just… I need a minute…” She pushed on his shoulders to signal him to let her down. The black suit he was wearing felt strange under her fingers. Weird texture. Close to slime plasma, maybe? For half a second, his grip on her relaxed, but then, his eyes widened and he tightened his hold. She saw his lips curl up and her blood froze. “Well, you’ll be safer with me, then.” He winked coyly. “Wouldn’t want to let a cute one like you cross a Hunter’s path in the night, now would we?” “Um...” She mentally cursed. Not good. How much did he know? How deep in was he? Who was he? A Hunter playing? Something else? Her survival mode kicked in. She calmed her breath, pursed her lips and frowned. “A hunter? Seems to me the only hunter around is that play-boy monster before me.” She flicked the bell he wore as a collar, giving him a shaky smile. “Sorry, but I have no time for games, kitten.” The cat monster with a human face blinked and gave her a wide excited smile. A puppy smile (ironically). Not the worse expression she could receive, given her current predicament. “Aw, you don’t have to hide things like that from me, sweetie! This cat’s not getting his intel from TV, you know? I know what I’m looking at.” He gave her a look-over. “And, might I add, your description don’t do you justice if this is how you all look like. Purretty stunning.” She could not help the eye-roll. He gave out she was the first one he met in person. She could work with that. “I’m not even going to pretend I understood any of this,” she lied with a sigh. “All I know is that it’s late, I’m cold and I really should head home. So thanks a lot for getting me away from that white creep, I appreciate it, but I have to go.” “Just say the words and this knight will bring you where you need to be, princess,” the cat beast answered with a smirk, undeterred. “And I would really like an audience with the ‘royal court’ by the same occasion. I feel like there is much to discuss in between us.” His face was dangerously close. She pushed it away by his nose, surprising both of them with the bold gesture. “I… I don’t. I think everything’s said and done,” she quipped back, feeling herself sweating at the idea of this strange monster getting remotely close to her family. “Just… let me down, please.” His smile faltered, but his grip on her stayed solid. She bit her lips and started to struggle. “Mister cat person...” “You can call me ‘Chat Noir’.” “Chat Noir, please.” Her fingers tensed on his shoulders. “Let me go. You’re hurting me.” “Sorry!” His grip lessened, but not enough to release her. “I…” He gazed into her eyes, his expression pleading. “I need your help. Please.” She stilled herself, surprised, but wary. He bit his lip, showing his fangs, his ears down. “I… I’m in a pickle right now… and people like you might be my only way out of it.” She frowned. “People like me?” He looked up into her eyes. “Dust-eaters.” He had said it in a whisper, and her first reflex was to deny it. Her second one was to hit him as hard as possible. It was what was recommended. She could crumble him fast. Hopefully faster than he could kill her. She did neither of these things, and would kick herself for it in a few hours. At the time, his admittedly pretty eyes and the sadness in them were enough to sway her away from her duty. Her eyes caught the silvery glint of his wound again and she formulated her plan. She sagged in defeat. “Alright. I give. Just… put me down, please. We should discuss this.” Hope lit his face in a way it only could for monsters. It was endearing, if a bit sad. “Ah. Of course!” He awkwardly let go of her and let her feet touch the ground delicately. He looked like a teenager boy trying to find his mark. Marinette guessed he was not far off from one, either. She sighed in relief when the monster freed her. She rubbed her arm before asking her next question. “What makes you think a dust-eater can help you, Chat Noir?” “I need to get in contact with one of you,” he answered, his hand scratching his blond hair. “I have a… curse I need to remove, let’s say.” “A curse?” “Yes.” He did not elaborate. Marinette figured he wanted to keep the details for whomever he was trying to get in touch with. Probably the smartest thing the cat monster had done since he had rescued her. She was almost feeling sorry for him. “Okay. I owe you this much…” She looked at him and smiled, clasping her hands together. “… and maybe a little more! Not many of your kind would have done what you did to save me!” She gave a shy glance to the side. “Not many would be brave enough to even risk coming so close.” She saw the blush spread on his cheeks. He looked flustered when she took a step in his direction. He massaged his neck, avoiding her adoring gaze. “Ah. I mean… It’s… only natural to save damsels in distress. Whatever their species.” She giggled. Alright. He was a bit cute like that. She turned coy. “Then I suppose...  I should give you the natural gift of the saved damsel in turn?” She pushed her lips and leaned forward. He tensed under her touch, but did nothing to stop her. She could feel the heat of his magic under his skin. Perfect.
He did not even notice when she put her lips on his wounded cheek. It was only when she started sucking out the dust from it that he startled. It was a bit too late then. She pushed her newly reformed magic upon him and his voice strangled, his body growing limp. She held him up when his legs gave out under him, taking care of absorbing as much of his magic as possible without a kill.
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Memories and sensations flowed through her mind, invading her; taking over. She let herself go for an instant. It was the risk of consuming pure dust. Getting lost into the monster’s magic. Flashes of a life she never had flickered through. A life of claustrophobic imprisonment. A flash of a smile on a tender feline lips. A hard gaze of a monster bird. A laughing bee. Then, feelings that were not hers rushed through. Excitement; fear; despair. She passed a hand in her prey’s hair and sent out a wave of sympathy through her aura. The only way she knew how to convey an apology without words. His magic was strong. Stronger than any she had ever tasted. Impossibly strong. Un-monster-like. Something sharp pushed her out. She released her kiss with a gasp. It was echoed by the cat monster. The monster that should not exist, with such a strong magic. She shakily leaned his body on the side of the street, somewhat hidden by a wooden crate. Hopefully hidden enough. She kept her eyes on him through the whole process. In spite of his weakened state, he did the same, staring at her with his wide green eyes. She resisted the urge to dive back down and take more from him. With a gulp and a shaky smile, she stepped back. “Sorry, kitten, dust-eaters can’t help you with your curse,” she whispered, almost cooing. She still felt a deep connection from consuming his magic. “We have our own curse to deal with, as you can see. We’re the last people you should go to for your problem.” She blew him a kiss (probably his influence, she was not usually that bold). “Try to survive and stay safe, alright?” She ran off before waiting for an answer, concentrating the magic she consumed outward. When she saw the black fur covering her arms and her new sets of claws, she sighed in relief. Finally, she had some cover again. When she was certain her new monster disguise had taken hold, she slowed to a fast walk. She could feel the magic that had reformed into a pair of ears, and her new tail. Furred monsters were an unusual form for her, but eating pure monster dust left little choice in this matter. The memories she absorbed alongside it would make the form familiar either way. She could feel the dark energy swelling in her body and enveloping her soul in an almost comforting embrace. A set of antennas was tasting the air around her. She was almost curious enough to look at herself, but this would have to wait until she was safely home. She did not feel like a copy of the cat monster she just assaulted, however, like she should have been. There was too much fur, and not enough human parts. She could feel a muzzle under her clawed fingers. Maybe this was related to the ‘curse’ he was talking about? A dark figure strolled past another street and she shook her head, resolute to go home before any other crazy thing happened to her.
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