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bagopucks · 1 year

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M. Marner - Noise Cancelling

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Mitch Marner x AUDHD!Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.0k

Warning(s): None!

I had this in the works from the moment it got requested. Then I got confused when TikTok started sharing me videos of Animal Crossing. I still can’t decide if AC is having a comeback or if my phone just thinks I’m interested in it now.

Over the weekend we had these severe storms and such, and I was like “let’s take on some tiny requests.” Then ya’ll blew my inbox up and I got so busy I got to NONE of them. So yeah.. gonna be a busy four days off work.

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Nothing irritates and upsets me more than loud noises. Living with Mitch, is like one constant loud noise. Just an ongoing bang inside my head. When he caught on to the wincing and the fidgeting that followed certain thuds and shouts, Mitch was good about learning to be quieter. Some noises though, were inevitable.

I learned to work around them, which always upset Mitch. I went out when he would do his at home workouts. The dropping of heavy weights and continuous thudding of his feet on the treadmill was always hard on me.

I didn’t attend many of his hockey games, if any at all. And if I did, I usually ended up on the office floors of the arena building, watching the game on my phone in one of the secretaries offices.

I took it in stride when his friends game over. I never made Mitch close his door to his team. I simply promised I would be back within an hour or so, and off I went to a park or library. Any quiet place I could find.

Thing is, I knew Mitch hated when I had to leave my comfort zone to find a new one. No matter how much assuring I did that I was fine, he always said he felt bad.

We didn’t have any solutions though. At least none I was willing to inform him of.

There was a pair of noise cancelling headphones I’d been looking at for a few months. I never informed him of them though, because they were expensive. Mitch already did so much for me, and I hated the idea that he’d jump at the opportunity to do more if he could. So I kept it to myself, on my laptop wishlist.

It wasn’t until one night that I couldn’t find my laptop, when I realized hiding anything from Mitch didn’t work.

“Hey, Mitchy.” I spoke as I walked through our house, my robe on and tied around my my waist. I’d gotten out of the shower close to a half an hour ago, but I got too comfortable in my robe to actually put clothes on. Mitch looked up at me from his phone. I could hear the faint music from Animal Crossing coming from his phone speaker. At first I convinced him to get it as a joke. Then he actually began to love it.

“What’s up?” Mitch asked, lowering his phone to his lap.

“My laptop is gone. I can’t find it anywhere.”

“I put it in the top drawer of the tv stand.”

I raised a brow at his words.

“Why’d you move it?” Sure, that’s where our laptops went, but Mitch didn’t move my stuff unless I asked him to. Mainly because I liked to have my things where I put them.

“I guess ‘cause I was using it.. just forgot to put it back where I found it.”

“You have your own.. why were you using mine?” I questioned, making my way over to the couch.

“I can’t tell you.”

“You better tell me. Better not be looking up weird stuff on my laptop.” Mitch had a tendency to be a hypochondriac. Which meant the first sign of abnormality in his body, and he was pulling up the internet searches.

And internet searches came with gross photos. The last thing I wanted was a bunch of unclosed tabs on weird illnesses and all the pictures that came with them.

“It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

My expression shifted into one of curiosity.

“Oh.” My weight shifted from one foot to the other. “Can I know now?”

“Well…” he contemplated his answer. “I guess so. I guess, yeah. It’ll be better to give sooner rather than later.”

Give?

“Just sit on the couch, okay?” I nodded and plopped down on the couch as Mitch stood up and left the room. I glanced at his phone he placed on the cushion beside me. I snatched it up to take a peek at his progress on the game. I liked to change his character’s outfits from time to time too.

I was in the midst of putting Mitch’s avatar in a tie-dye shirt when he returned, and I looked up to see him holding a box wrapped in plain blue paper. Always Leafs colors.

“Are you changing my guy again?” He asked quickly, a smile parting his lips.

“Can’t keep him the same all the time, hun. He needs cool outfits.” I teased as I set his phone down on the coffee table.

“Yeah but I like his hat.” Mitch whined, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“I promise I left the hat. Don’t get distracted.” I reminded swiftly, and Mitch looked down at the box before he came to sit next to me, on the edge of the couch.

“Here.” He held the box out. I quickly took it from him. “You can open it whenever.”

“You don’t have to get me things.” I informed him. Mitch and I weren’t notorious gift givers. He was more so a words of affirmation kind of guy, and acts of service. Quality time was another big one for us.

“I know, but this one was important to you.” I glanced up at him with a grin. Mitch was always so caring. I slowly tore the paper away from the box, my brain fitting pieces of the puzzle together as more of the gift was revealed to me. I felt I already knew what it was before I even had most of it unwrapped.

My heart soared after the final piece of paper was gone.

“Mitch,” my tone came out serious. “Baby, you didn’t have to do this.” I looked up at him. “I’ve been looking at these for so long. How did you even know?” The emotion was evident in my tone, complete and pure happiness.

Mitch glanced down at his hands in his lap, before his baby blues met mine.

“You remember last week? When I had that pain in my ribs?”

“And you thought you were dying?”

“Yeah.. well- I used your laptop to look it up, and I saw you had an open tab. And I know I’m not supposed to snoop.. but I was just curious. Then I saw what they were and I thought.. well I guess I just thought they’d help.” I could see his cheeks flushing as he spoke. It was always easy to tell when Mitch was embarrassed or overthinking about something. “Maybe now you don’t have to leave the house all the time when I’m loud.”

“Aww.” I set the box aside and leaned forward, resting one of my hands on his knee. “Baby this means so much to me. You have no idea.” He smiled sheepishly.

“I looked at a few other pairs too, but the internet and a lot of other people with similar struggles said that- that these were what they recommended most. The headphones are supposed to be easy on your head, and they’re supposed to fit around your ears nicely so they don’t irritate or press on them too hard.” Mitch recalled all of this information like he’d been studying it for centuries. “Oh! And it’s made out of that material you love.”

Was it possible to fall any more in love with him?

I released a soft sigh at the sight of his complete devotion and excitement. My hand squeezed his knee.

“And they’re Bluetooth. But they come with a wire too, just in case you want to plug them in.” I nodded before reaching for the box again. I set it in my lap and leaned back against the couch. Mitch did the same.

“But the wire was a normal one, so I went ahead and bought an adapter to fit your phone too.” Was there anything he didn’t think of? “And I got the headphones in your favorite color.” Nope. He’d hit every single one of the bases.

“And-“ I cut Mitch off by swiftly slotting my lips against his own. I didn’t need him to continue explaining why he bought the headphones. I appreciated them, and I didn’t disapprove of the purchase. I was happy, that’s all he needed to know. When I pulled away, Mitch finally relaxed. His shoulders dropped, his eyes looked hazy. I smiled at my accomplishment.

“You wanna try ‘em out with me?” I asked as I worked on opening the box.

“Can’t share headphones, weirdo.” Mitch teased with a soft chuckle.

“You connect your phone first, and play me a good song.” I suggested as I carefully pulled the headphones out, as well as the directions.

It took us a solid five minutes to figure out how to turn them on. Once we did, we connected the set to Mitch’s phone, and I slipped them on.

“Make sure the volume is down.” I spoke, immediately surprised by how muffled my voice sounded. Mitch opened his music app, before I reached out and grabbed his arm. He looked at me worriedly.

“This may be the only time I ever ask you to do this.. but I want you to go to the other side of the house and yell.”

Mitch raised a brow at me.

“Why?”

“Because I think these are perfect.”

A smile lit up his face. Nothing made him happier than knowing he’d done well with something.

The headphones were perfect to live normally with Mitch. Perfect to slip on when his friends came over, or when he decided to work out. Maybe even perfect enough to help block out some of the noise at his games. Granted I’d still use a suite, but they just might work.

“Are you sure?” Mitch slowly stood up.

“Loudest yell you can. Okay? I want the neighbors to hear it.”

“They’re gonna think my dog died.”

“No, they’ll just assume their crazy neighbor is acting out again.” I assured him with a playful smile. Mitch glared at me, quick to try and defend himself before I waved my hands dismissively. “Go, go!”

I watched my boyfriend quickly leave the room, and I waited patiently for the sound of his voice. It never came, but my only indication that Mitch had yelled, was Zeus’ head lifting from the floor where he laid at one point, and quickly running off. I grabbed my phone to text Mitch to come closer. We played around for a while with how close he could get before I could hear him. Once he complained about his throat hurting, I beckoned him back to the couch and let him play some music while I leaned against his side.

I held Mitch’s phone in my hands, both of us looking for different songs to play. I had pulled one of the pieces off my ear to hear him as he spoke, occasionally pointing to a song.

“So.. you like them?” He finally asked at one point. I turned my head to press a kiss to his shoulder.

“They’re perfect. Thank you so much, Mitchell.” I whispered. “You do so much for me every day, and I don’t think I ever thank you enough.” When I lifted my head to look at him, Mitch shook his head.

“You really don’t have to. I do it because I love you.” We both smiled at one another.

“I love you too, Stitch.” He snorted out a laugh at the nickname. “You wanna try them on?” He gave a shrug before I pulled the headphones off and handed them over.

“I get to pick the music though.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #mitch marner imagine #mitch marner x reader #mitch marner #toronto maple leafs #auston matthews

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cuddlepilefics · 4 months

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SKZ Season Greetings - 10

Gone Fever

“Where’ve you been?“, Minho whined as he watched Jisung rummage through his closet to help himself to some of his hyung’s clothes. The older had just woken up alone and it had taken a bit for the rapper to sneak in and head straight for the closet. There was some shuffling as Jisung slipped on a large hoodie before shutting the closet door. Turning to Minho he smiled: “I took a shower. Think my fever broke and I wanted to feel a little more like myself. Still stuffed up as hell and my throat hurts but the fever’s down and now that the fever and sweat are gone, I feel a lot better.” – “’s good to hear”, the older yawned, relaxing back into the pillows. He wasn’t necessarily sleepy anymore but it was cozy there. Minho had his eyes closed when a cool hand appeared on his forehead and Jisung rasped: “Still pretty warm. Do you feel like having breakfast? It's almost noon and I’ll head to the kitchen for some tea anyway.” – “Gimme a moment an' I’ll come along”, Minho sniffled as he propped himself up, “Maybe having a bite will give me my energy back.”

The common area was quiet with both Hyunjin and Jeongin asleep on the couch. Changbin had helped Seungmin put fresh sheets on his bed before the two got comfortable to watch a drama, his laptop abandoned on the dining table. Jisung spotted it and quickly went over to save whatever files were still open because he didn’t trust Changbin’s fever muddled brain to remember saving his progress. Already feeling shaky from the short walk from his room, Minho let himself plop into one of the seats and rested his head on the table. “I’ll be there in a second”, he muttered weakly as he heard Jisung rummage through the kitchen, “Jus’ need a moment.” – “It’s okay, just stay put, hyung”, the rapper hummed, starting the kettle. He got both of them some rice and fruit, only having to wait for the tea. Minho picked up his head when his dongsaeng set down a bowl in front of him. Sympathetically patting the dancer’s back, Jisung smiled: “Got you some rice to replenish your energy and fruit for the vitamins. Tea will be ready in a couple of minutes. Anything else?” – “Thanks”, Minho rasped as he shook his head, a smile playing on his lips when the younger took a seat opposite him.

As soon as they were done eating, Jisung talked Minho into taking a bath, while he himself settled in front of Changbin’s laptop. He saved copies of each of the files, so he could make alterations to their songs but still had Changbin’s versions in case they didn’t approve of the changes he made. Despite having gotten over his fever, Jisung soon felt his head ache again after only a few minutes of looking at the screen. He knew though that he’d take a lot of stress off his hyungs’ shoulders if there was less piled up work after they recovered, so he was determined to get as much as possible done. A slight chill ran down his spine and he had to suppress a shudder, startling when a hand appeared on his back. “What’re you doing, hyung?”, Jeongin breathed, furrowing his brows. He had only gotten up to have some water, planning to go right back to cuddling Hyunjin afterwards.

Glancing up at their maknae, Jisung hummed: “Trying to not let us fall too far behind.” – “Shouldn’t you be resting?”, Jeongin hummed, noting that his hyung’s voice still sounded wrecked. Giving the younger a smile, Jisung proudly informed: “Oh, I’m okay. My fever’s gone.” Though Jeongin was surprised how the rapper could be recovered already while him and Changbin, who had fallen ill first hadn’t significantly improved yet, he wanted to be happy for his friend. It’d probably take a couple more days for his voice to return to normal, while the congestion could take one or two weeks to kick but getting over his fever was a huge step into the right direction.

As Jeongin turned to go back to the living room, he saw Jisung shudder from the corner of his eye. He contemplated asking the rapper if he was sure that his fever was gone because he surely wouldn’t still be having chills if it was but decided that he was far to tired to argue with his hyung, knowing the other had his mind set anyway. Realizing he was alone again, Jisung gave a stuffy sigh. Sure, he could work more productively if he was on his own but he had found himself so much more dependent on company lately, he was almost sad that the younger had left. Jeongin did come back for a moment though, draping a blanket around his hyung’s shoulders to ease the chills. The gesture made Jisung’s heart flutter and the fond smile remained on his lips while he continued to work, one corner of the blanket constantly pressed to his runny nose, muffling the sniffles.

The longer Jisung stared at the screen in front of him, the more his vision was blurring. His eyes stung, frequently flooding with irritated tears as he tried to blink away the blurriness and get them to focus but there was barely any use. Minho had gone back to bed, drowsy from his bath, so Jisung worked in complete silence, facing his battle on his own. It was Chan who eventually found him, gently rubbing his back through the blanket. “What are you doing, Sung?”, the leader rasped, eyes scanning the computer screen. Looking up at the oldest with bloodshot eyes, Jisung mumbled: “My fever’s gone since I woke up this morning, so I tried to get something done. It’ll be easier to catch up again if we don’t fall too far behind schedule.” Furrowing his brows, Chan rested his palm against his dongsaeng’s forehead and hummed: “I know for a fact that I’m still feverish, yet you feel warm to me. If your fever was down earlier, it has most definitely gone up again by now.”

A few beats of silence passed as the realization sunk in. “Oh”, Jisung muttered, rubbing his nose into the corner of his blanket, “That’d explain the headache, I guess.” – “Come on, you should go and lay down”, Chan smiled sympathetically. The rapper shook his head though, insisting: “It’s flowing really well, right now. I can’t stop yet.” – “That’s why there’s a blank lyrics page open?” – “Endless ideas that will be gone if you keep interrupting my thought process”, Jisung sighed dramatically. “Sure thing”, Chan chuckled, lightly shaking his head, “Come on, you need rest.” – “Could you stop distracting me, hyung?”, the rapper whined, “You make it damn near impossible to focus.” – “I doubt that I’m the reason you can’t focus”, Chan reminded patiently, “You’re sick, I bet your head feels all heavy and fogged up too.” Jisung hummed softly in agreement before reaching for his cup, only to realize he had already finished his tea. “Let me get you some water and then it’s back to bed for you”, the leader sighed, “Assuming your fever had actually been gone earlier, you probably relapsed because you tried to do too much too early.”

After having Jisung sip some water, Chan offered him a hand and smiled: “Felix’ back still hurts and he’s in desperate need of cuddles, so if you’re really so eager to do something useful, go keep him company.” The rapper nodded tiredly, allowing his hyung to guide him to Felix’ room, where he crawled onto the bed next to his twin and closed his eyes. When Chan was confident that Jisung would be asleep within the next few minutes, he exited the room and headed back to the dining table to go over what his dongsaengs had worked on while he had been asleep. No way he as the leader could be slacking while his dongsaengs worked so hard through their illness.

A hesitant hand appeared on Chan’s back and the leader looked up startled. “What are you doing and where’s Sungie?” – “I’m picking up where he left off”, Chan muttered before clearing his throat, “He insisted he was recovered.” – “Yeah, he is”, Minho confirmed, frowning when the oldest shook his head. “His fever was pretty high when I found him out here. Probably made himself relapse because he wanted to start back up at 100%”, Chan sighed, “I made him take a nap with Lixxie.” – “Make sure, you’re not pushing yourself too hard too early”, the dancer commented, realizing that Chan was doing exactly what Jisung had, “If it backfired in his case, it’ll probably backfire in your case too.” – “I’m not pushing myself”, the older denied, “Just making sure his effort wasn’t in vain.” Minho only gave him a stern look and to his surprise, his hyung relented. “I guess I’m doing what he did”, Chan admitted, resting his head in his hands, “Bet you’re going to tell me to be a good role model and go rest till I’m fully recovered?” Minho only kept looking at him, so he sighed: “And you won’t stop breathing down my neck until I actually do so.” – “I mean, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t take so long to because I’m tired as hell and my legs feel like jelly but don’t test me, I will stand here breathing down your neck till you finally do so”, Minho agreed.

Chan knew that Minho wasn’t kidding and felt guilty to be the reason the dancer had to stay on his feet despite feeling too weak to do so. Saving his work, he shut the laptop and got to his feet. For a moment, he swayed, his vision darkening around the edges. “Let’s go lay down”, Minho hummed, his hand reassuringly resting against the small of Chan’s back, “I really wanted to continue that anime I’ve been watching but it’s more fun with some company and since you put Jisung to bed, you’ll have to watch it with me.” The leader chuckled at that as he sluggishly followed Minho to his room. He knew the other preferred watching stuff on his own, so the statement had most definitely been a lie but he also knew that his dongsaeng would never ask for cuddles outright, which was cute in a way. Being the one to get the cuddle-privilege from Minho, obviously made Chan feel really warm inside, so there was no way he could turn the offer down.

#fanfic #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #sickfic #stray kids #sick #skz

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thefallofophanims · 4 months

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For a long time, I stayed within the Field of Oblivion, the Land of the Forgotten, where the incessant whispers of ancestors and lost civilizations cradled my unmoving frame. On that day, I heard the tales of rain and mist, listened to the poems of mute lips, stories of Men, Angels, Gods and all the rest; I tasted the bitter, liberating flavor of sin and piety, which were now one and the same. Everything was light, everything was intense, and in that instant I caught a glimpse of the knowledge that had fascinated me all these years, the knowledge for which I had dedicated my lifetime. What I saw, no book in any Monastery Library could have taught me; no sacred text could have recounted the birth of stars and dust, and the death of every one of my fellow humans, in just a few seconds. No illuminated letter could have illustrated my arrival in the pavilion of New Souls and the drowsy solitude that awaited me and every Scribe before my turn came to hold ink and paper between my fingers. One day, I thought, one day, I'll find the words to describe these celestial visions; it's through language that the ineffable, freed from its spell, will become divine, and perhaps then Humanity will be able to wake up and thank the day of Tomorrow.

I saw the universe, fluid, ever-changing, I felt the cord of light pass through me and connect me to every piece of broken glass, every flower, and to Aliosha, who had regained His original form, but whose soul I knew intimately could not move away from my heart.

Then the clouds calmed and I felt cold, pure water beneath my feet. I lose my role as storyteller and revert to the quiet scribe, if these two roles can be differentiated in the first place. The fog can take on the appearance of whatever it wants; the fog of ancient times knows all the secrets of the Land of the Forgotten. The water is clear, limpid, and I catch myself contemplating my shimmering reflection, and it's then that I realize I'm no longer alone with the Guide of my dreams who answers to the name of my lost friend.

Silken memories have brought me more than light and more than knowledge. Mist and clouds swirl in the empty air, wandering and sublime, and at every glance, I catch a feather, a strand of hair, and the beauty of long-lost faces. Heavenly chants and crossed fingers have me gasping for air, as I finally understand what the Choir of Angels is named after. Although, the illusory formation of children preaching on the days of Mass was nothing but a shameful scribble, a tasteless imitation of the scene displayed before my eyes. All around me, winged travelers whistled in the wind. Has my time come? So soon? The idea is at once sweet, liberating and sad: I don't wish to die today. Tomorrow, perhaps, I'll want to, but I can't bring myself to leave the sphere of Silk and the living when I've just received Enlightenment. God, I think, please allow me one more day; then I will join your side if so is your desire.

But this ethereal procession doesn't seem so funereal, and a feeling of gratitude washes over me. Today is not the day of the End of the World. I never thought I'd see any angels other than Aliosha - Aliosha was a miracle I thought would be enough. One of them (or all of them, perhaps, I can't remember) spoke.

"Oh, You, Child of God, offer salvation to your fellow children of God, and know our names. Hear our prayers, hear our regrets, and know our names."

"What are your names?" I answer. "Who shall I hear the prayer of, who shall I hear the regrets of? Please do tell me, for I, Lysander, will fulfill your request."

"Our names were forgotten, we ourselves can't recall them any longer. We are all and none. Once you leave this Realm, Lysander, carry with you the envy of the Ophanim. Let us burden your chest, and our savior you will become.

Let our tongues and our songs guide your hand and the ink that feeds the ones of your kind. Let our stories change Humanity. And once the time has come, let us fall."

I listen. The ill shivers that shake my body come neither from the cold water on my skin, nor from the sighs in my ears. In my mind gleams a new brilliance.

#thefallofophanims #writing #prose

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sister-lucifer · 11 months

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crawlers personal diary entry 7

[There may be heavy and potentially triggering personal subjects below the cut. These entries are being posted in order to archive them in case something happens to me and/or they have to be deleted from my personal notes. If you know me IRL, I kindly ask that you skip over these.]

[specific tw: suicide/self harm]

05/25/2023

i can’t help but feel like i deserve all the pain i go through. a made a mistake once that quite literally still keeps me up at night tossing and turning. it was just a misunderstanding with no malicious intent on my end, but that doesn’t really matter, does it? all that matters is that i wound up hurting someone anyways. i never dodged responsibility and was completely open to taking the blame and apologizing as many times as he thought i needed to. i did everything i could to make it up to him, and i punished myself for it for weeks after. i cut myself for it, i skipped meals and went hungry on purpose, i did everything in my power to make myself miserable and it didn’t make me feel better, so i kept at it.

i wanted to apologize and tell him i was sorry, that it was eating at me day and night to the point i was physically ill, but i didn’t want him to think i was guilt tripping him. he had every right to be upset and it wasn’t my place to butt in with my own guilt. to this day he has no idea what happened in the following weeks. i don’t intend to ever tell him. it’ll only make him feel bad for being rightfully upset.

that was the first time in a long time i ever seriously contemplated taking my own life. while now i can at least sort of think clearly and understand that i was only naive and confused, at the time i had fully convinced myself i’d done something terrible, that he resented me and i truly deserved to die for it. in my head i was guilty, and that was that. i’m glad i didn’t, but that doesn’t mean i’m not still guilty.

it makes it hard to speak up about anything, even to people who weren’t involved at all, because a little voice in the back of my head tells me i deserve it so i should just deal with it. i stay quiet because who am i to demand something after what i did?

i wish i could talk to someone but i fear being blamed for what happened, or even worse being told that i am right to feel i deserve this. even though i will always take the blame, i don’t want to be pushed back into that dark place by having someone confirm my fears. on top of the paranoid breakdown i experienced a few nights ago, i just don’t think i could handle it when i’ve been screaming at myself for being so stupid and ruining everything.

i refuse to give in to the urge to take my own life, but sometimes i wish a circumstance out of my control would take it for me, or that at least something unspeakable and awful would happen to me so that i could finally have a real reason to be upset.

#crawlers diary #personal #vent #tw sui ideation #tw sh

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ainyan · 1 year

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[ Joke ] with Thancred? :D

As he came around the bookcases that separated the infirmary from the common area of the Respite, he saw her stretched out upon her bed, laying on her stomach. With some bemusement, he noticed that she was tucked not only under the covers of the bed, but his coat as well. A book lay open before her and she was reading in a soft voice. He could just make out her words, “... and the sailors finally found land, their ship wallowing its way through the sea to an island. Upon that island, a friendly group of lalafells took pity on the stranded sailors…”

He recognized the story - it was how the Nymians had become cursed by the dark mages of Mhach during the War of the Magi. He knew this story had especial significance for her, as she was close friends with some of the survivors of that millennia-gone tragedy. But who was she reading to?

As he stepped silently closer, he discovered the answer to that question, bemused to find his own nutkin companion curled up beside her, staring raptly at her as she read to it in a soft, breathy voice. As she reached the end of the passage, he squeaked at her. “Aye,” she murmured, reaching out to stroke her finger over his head, “‘tis a very sad tale, and the happy ending is slow in coming, but it does come. We have found a cure for their illness, and though it will take Surito Carito time to effect it upon all the remaining Tonberries, we are confident that we will manage.”

The nutkin squeaked again and reared up on his hindlegs, rubbing his head against her cheek. She giggled and leaned down to press a kiss to it’s head. Thancred scowled as he felt a prick of envy in his stomach. Really?

As if he could feel the gunbreaker’s hot stare, the nutkin glanced at Thancred and gave a welcoming chirr, flirting its fluffy tail at its friend. Startled, she glanced up and he watched with some bemusement as color flooded her cheeks. “Oh. Uhm. Thancred.” His coat moved as, he assumed, her tail twitched. “I can… explain…”

He raised an eyebrow. “Explain what? Why you absconded with my coat? Or my nutkin? Or why you’re suddenly so free with your kisses?”

“Free with my…” Kal'istae blinked at him, confused. “I - uh… all three, I guess? Although, I might add, you’re the one who left your coat with me. I took that as an open invitation to coat-nap it.” He couldn’t help but echo her grin. “And your nutkin,” and she turned to scratch the fuzzy little creature beneath his chin, “is the one who came to me. As for the kiss, well, handsome lads like him deserve a good kiss.” And she suited action to her words, pressing another kiss to the critter’s nose.

Thancred settled down on the edge of her bed and she twisted beneath the coat and covers to lean on her side, planting her cheek upon her fist as she stared up at him in quiet contemplation. He studied her, flipping a mental coin as he considered his options. She gazed back, her expression guileless as she stroked her fingers across the arm of his coat where it crooked around her, snaking up so that were she to lay down, her cheek would rest upon it. He’d never been much of a gambler, but even he understood when it was time to take a chance. “Indeed?” he asked lightly. “Interesting. I’ve been called handsome in my time, you know.”

Her lavender-edged eyes hid everything as she gazed up at him, still stroking his coat. “Have you now? It may be I’ve thought that myself - once or twice, in days long past.” Her fingers played along the seam of the arm. “Perhaps in days not so long past.”

“And do I qualify now?” Kali’s eyes glittered as she pursed her lips, studying his face, then nodded slowly. “So where’s my kiss?”

She sucked in her breath. “Come here, then, if you think you’re deserving of one.” Even as she spoke, she pushed herself up, sitting upright and drawing his coat across her lap, her eyes on his.

He knew this was a bad idea. No matter what Urianger said, surely, surely holding back would make the inevitable end less painful.

No. Gazing down into her eyes as she waited for him to make his decision, he knew that the pain of loss would be the same be they together or apart. Why the hell not? he asked himself, and sucked in a breath before leaning down.

She lifted her face, and he saw the smile curve her lips the moment before his own brushed against them, soft, light - testing. And lightning struck.

#there's a joke in there somewhere #their humor is understated #ffxiv #ask meme #kal'istae miurani #thancred waters #wol x thancred

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asgard-segun-elcadejos · 2 years

Text

Asgard Academy

Year 2: Part II

[ Index ]

xxxxxxxxx

“Hey, uhm, was it wrong of me to hang out with Artica all those times?”

“Nah, but it was foolish to not think a little harder about how it was perceived.”

“If I had the choice, I would like to go out with Artica every time.”

“Alright, that’s a start,” Bud nodded. “Now you just have to tell’er that.”

Fenrir saw him chuckle; no doubt because he suddenly grew very tense. “I’m not very good with… expressing myself. I can’t imagine how you did it.”

Bud displayed a cocky grin. “I wouldn’t compare; we have vastly different personalities.”

Fenrir sighed in agreement.

“I didn’t accept Karianne's advances because she’s physically attractive (she is, but that wasn’t it). K has such a fiery personality and isn't afraid to show it. She’ll argue you into the ground if she believes she’s right. I really like that, especially in a Blue. You people always want to talk it out. Sometimes you have to punch it out.”

Fenrir had a slight frown. “I hope you’re not punching it out with her, though.”

“Not like that…” Bud replied in a whisper. “Anyway, what are you going to do about Artica? You are interested, right? And is that enough for you to want to focus on her for a while or will you move on sooner rather than later?”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bud chastised himself, aware he let his mouth run a little more than he intended. Artica was his priority here; if Fenrir was not particularly committed, he wouldn’t encourage him any longer. “As we established before, you went on ‘very likely’ dates with a few others, and then with Artica.”

“I already told you I’d choose her over them.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. For how long are you gonna date Karianne, huh?” Fenrir spat back, annoyed. “I don’t know jack shit about any of this. It’s already humiliating to learn I’m socially inept, stop making it seem like I do it on purpose.”

The Black raised his eyebrows with a hint of guilt.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away... I want the following to be very clear: don’t engage carelessly without at least contemplating what’ll happen. When someone gives you expectations and fails to meet them, it’s difficult to swallow. Let’s say you start dating someone, and when they’re with you, they call you sweet names, but when they talk to others, you instantly become 'just someone from school'. That would suck, right?”

“A lot, yeah…”

“Alright, so try to think of the right wording for the right situation, in order to be clear. If you ask Artica out with the specific intent of dating her, then say that. ‘Hey, do you wanna go on a date with me?’. That’s much clearer than saying ‘Wanna go to the arcade?’”

Bud packed his stuff in his bag and turned around. “That’s the only thing I would ask of you; always be clear. If at the end of the day, it turns out you don’t like her enough to date, I get it, but make sure to let her know.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“How’s it going?”

“All good, son, just finished packing. Hope I didn’t forget anything.”

“No worries, Dad. Anything you need, just say so. Syd and I will handle it.”

Sannfrid let out a chuckle. “Last year, you avoided his name in every possible way, and now you team up for birthday parties. You’ve come very far, Bud, I’m so proud of you.”

The teenager wrapped his arms around him with a relieved sigh. A little over a year ago, his father had been gravely ill, and it was only the kind offer from his biological parents, that he now knew was Syd’s idea, that helped him get better faster. Bud was grateful for many things, but that was the biggest one.

“Thanks, Dad.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

"Everyone, may I have a moment of your time?"

The staff quieted down and gave the young master their undivided attention.

"As we have discussed, three of our guests this week are not as deeply familiar with etiquette as the others; my older twin brother Bud, the man who raised him Sannfrid, and our mutual friend Artica. I humbly ask you to be patient and understanding with them and help if they seem to be struggling. Regarding the last person I mentioned, there is one more thing…"

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

"Oh, gods, her face!" Hejne whispered and was immediately elbowed in the ribs by his young master.

"What did I say? Pray she did not hear that, or you will help me clean my piano more often!"

Awfully aware of how slow, tedious, and absolutely boring that was, Hejne gave him a mortified nod. He lined up with three other youths and an older man waiting behind their young master. Karianne and Rúri ran to them immediately. Syd gathered his other four guests for introductions.

“Hejne is my gentleman-in-waiting, and for this week, yours too,” he told Bud, then turned to Sannfrid. “Gudvin will assist you, sir, and Hanka will help Artica out.”

Hejne was a lively boy with brown hair and a small birthmark on his right cheek. Gudvin seemed solemn and kind, safe to approach. Hanka, on the other hand, was a dark-haired girl with sharp eyes and a very serious demeanor.

Bud, visibly uncomfortable, cleared his throat. “Is this in any way optional?”

“Not for you three, I am afraid. Things between a city manor and a family manor work very differently. It is better if you have direct assistance to navigate this,” Syd explained. “For you, however, it is.”

Fenrir felt all eyes on him and immediately prayed the ground would swallow him up, but the gods had never answered him before, so it was pointless to hope they would now. “I’m fine by myself, thank you.”

“Oh, alright. We were not sure if you would bring your own gentleperson-in-waiting…”

“Uh, no,” Fenrir replied and diverted his eyes elsewhere. As if the gods decided to compromise, Karianne and Rúri suddenly interrupted, stealing the attention away from him.

“This is Paolo! My gentleman-in-waiting!” Karianne announced in a joyful tone. “Oh, I have missed you, sweetie. I am so glad you could come with Father. Where is Father, though?”

“Lord Ulrich is to arrive on the morrow, my lady, along with Lady Paulfrid,” Paolo answered at once. His complexion was somewhat darker than the average Asgardian, with dark blond hair in waves and darker shades of green in his eyes. He even looked tanned, which was highly uncommon among those living in the Asgardian Principality. The most interesting thing about him was, however, his overall, utterly relaxed demeanor.

Rúri took the hand of the girl next to her and gave her a spin, so her long skirt swirled around her. “Ritva is my lady-in-waiting. Such a sweetheart, I hope you will get along well.”

Ritva’s kind eyes were partially obscured by her platinum blonde hair. As everyone introduced themselves, Artica noticed they all did the same thing when greeting her and couldn’t help letting out a sigh. This was going to be a long visit.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“A pleasure to see you, Sannfrid, thank you greatly for accepting our invitation,” Lord Baldrek said.

“Thank you for hosting me once again, my Lord, it is an honor,” he replied, returning his handshake firmly with a deep bow.

After witnessing this, Bud scouted for the next moment he was available to whisper into his ear. “You've been here before?”

“Twice, yeah. The first time was when they decided to take advantage of the legal reform, so they contacted your legal guardian (me), and the second time was before they reached out to you directly.”

His son raised an eyebrow. Sannfrid did mention meeting his parents beforehand and discussing the whole thing, but not that it was here in the Viking Tiger family manor. It didn’t really matter, yet it now made sense why his father hadn’t been nervous to come all the way here. He even greeted Gudvin with familiarity.

After the never-ending formalities, they were finally shown to their rooms. The twins and their partners were located to the left of the dining hall, while Sannfrid, Fenrir, and Artica had to go right. Their quarters seemed the same; a room so wide it fit an enormous bed, a pair of armchairs around an elegant tea table in front of the fireplace, and a finely carved desk next to the window. The bathroom was equally wide, with both a bathtub and a shower.

“This place’s ridiculous.”

Artica meant it in a good way, but got nothing more than a side-eye from Hanka, who had followed her inside. The lady-in-waiting pointed to the enormous closet and made quick hand gestures.

‘Please use this space for your clothing and shoes. If you require a thicker coat, or better insulated boots, let me know.’

The Black nodded, and got it over within ten minutes, which was just about right considering she hadn’t brought (and didn’t actually own) that many etiquette-appropriate outfits. Artica looked around before sitting on the bed.

‘What are the family manor rules I must not forget? Aside from regular etiquette, I mean.’

‘You may use common areas like the library, tearoom, and courtyards at your leisure. Eating and event areas only at designated times-‘

‘Library?!’ her eyes sparkled at the thought, but Hanka didn’t seem to appreciate her interruption. ‘Sorry, please continue.’

‘Private quarters cannot be entered unless the user explicitly invites you. It is prohibited and has strong consequences.’

Syd suddenly burst in with a smile. “What do you think? Anything else you might want in here?”

Artica looked at Hanka, who rolled her eyes. She was careful enough to sign just out of Syd's field of vision. ‘He is an exception. And no, I do not know if his twin also is.’

The Black nodded again, impressed by how perceptive the other girl was. “Not at all! I’ve never had a space like this all to myself. Feels kinda lonely.”

The young master smirked. "So it is company you want? That can be arranged."

"Shut UP!" Artica immediately replied, her cheeks flushing. "That’s NOT what I meant."

"No? Shame, I already had someone in mind."

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Fenrir was staring out the library window, deep in thought.

He couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed since they arrived at the Viking Tiger family manor. The absurd number of staff members, unthinkable levels of precisely executed logistics, the general warmth in everyone’s gestures. That was all foreign to him. Neither city or family manors of the Northern Wolf would be able to host these guests or achieve this level of efficiency. Hell, XXXX and his brother kept only four staff members each, two for general duties and two for cooking. A gentleperson-in-waiting for all guests (if they did not bring their own) was out of the question.

The boy frowned. Would it have been different if his parents were alive? Would there be that many people? Could events like these take place back in the mountains? Should he have had a gentleperson-in-waiting all along? It would’ve been nice to have a companion of any sort, at some point. Growing up an only child, and an orphan, under the tutelage of two people who gave exactly zero shits about him had made quite the dent in his… everything.

Fenrir let out a sigh, and then heard some shuffling between nearby shelves. Following the rustle, but not really paying attention to his surroundings, he bumped headfirst into a bookworm he knew too well.

“Hey, good morning,” he greeted, and had to repress a chuckle seeing her carrying three large books with a gazillion pages each.

“‘Morning! You think I can read them all before we leave?”

“Maybe, if you wake up early every day. Why are you awake now, though?”

Artica drifted to a nearby table, left two of the books and grabbed the third. “Oh, uh, I forgot to ask for schedules yesterday, and woke up in a hurry only to find everyone else still asleep. I might have woken Hanka up too, feel kinda bad about that.”

‘I was already awake’ she signed, popping up from between some shelves with two cups of tea on a tray. She left it on the table before leaving. ‘I will come for you when breakfast is ready.’

Taking note that Hanka was keeping a thorough eye on her, and that she was clearly skilled at lip reading, Artica gestured for Fenrir to take a seat. “Gentlepeople-in-waiting are both fascinating and alien to me.”

“That makes two of us.”

She said nothing. The day before, it seemed to her that Fenrir declined Syd’s offer because it made him uncomfortable to be a noble and not know how to interact with people in that role. Apparently, that was the case. “So, why are you awake now?”

I have no idea what is expected of me, and that keeps me on edge. “I also forgot to ask for schedules.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“You really have an indoor swimming pool. This is blowing my mind,” Artica said as they entered. “Wished you’d said so before, though, I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“Me neither,” Bud admitted.

“Not a problem, darlings, I did,” Karianne chimed in.

“Wh-? What does that mean?”

“Paolo, be a dear and bring the purple bag, you know the one.”

Her gentleman-in-waiting nodded and left but returned soon after. They both went into the changing room next to the entrance. Karianne’s voice could be heard inside. “Well, what are you waiting for? We do not have all day!”

Artica and Bud exchanged looks while Syd and Rúri smirked. “Finally, she has some other poor souls to use for entertainment.”

“No offense, guys, but she has been pestering us for years. It was about time a replacement showed up.”

Once inside, before anything else, Karianne and Paolo stared at them in almost identical gestures, a hand on their chins.

“Palettes?”

Even though Paolo narrowed his eyes in concentration, it didn’t seem to break his eternally relaxed expression. “Mid-dark tones for him, preferably in the reds so he matches you, my lady. Lighter tones for Miss Reynirdóttir.”

“Lighter? Are you sure? I was thinking maybe some blue to… you know…” Karianne raised her eyebrows, pointing to something that was not there.

“A compromise, then? I believe A13 fulfills both, my lady.”

“Hm, yes, that is a good choice. However, we will start with the other one. Please hand him from B4 to B9, and then from B17 to B20.”

Artica was offered a seat next to Karianne, while Bud was sent into one of the changing room cubicles. He had to try a parade of different swimsuits, all different mixes of black, gray, and splashes of color between purple and orange. After a full thirty minutes, Karianne and Paolo nodded to themselves.

“Very well, please give him B12, the one we selected yesterday.”

“What? You made me try all of those even though you’d already decided on one?”

“Yes, I needed to see you in different styles, for future reference. That hot ass of yours should always be displayed in flattering garments! Now get out, it is Artica’s turn.”

“She saw all of mine, why can’t I see hers?”

“I wanted her seasoned opinion on the other options, now please change and exit, we have work to do.”

With a slight blush on his cheeks, Bud did as she asked and left. Artica was given A13 immediately.

“Wow, you have really nice legs, sweetie. Show them off more often, yes? Now, what do we think of A13, Paolo?”

“Good fit. A two-piece shows your athletic disposition quite well, Miss Reynirdóttir.”

“Th-thanks.”

Karianne tapped her cheek with one finger. “You know, this one fits you very well, so I encourage you to wear it, but may I ask you to try two other swimsuits?”

“For future reference?” she chuckled. “Yeah, that’s okay with me. Thanks for lending me this one! You’re a lifesaver.”

After changing to their own swimsuits, Karianne and Paolo returned to the poolside. The curly-haired girl took a seat in one of the benches. “Ritva, honey, are you not going to join them?”

Ritva uncovered one shoulder. “I did bring a swimsuit, my lady, but I feel unwell. Maybe another time.”

“I understand, come sit next to me so we can enjoy the view together.”

Bud’s head popped up from underwater. “You got us into these; you have to get in too, K!”

“Not today, darling. Pool chlorine is not what I need after washing my hair last night.”

Without another word, the older twin got out of the pool, dripping water everywhere, and picked her up princess-style.

“Unhand me, you beefy oaf! Do not dare to-!”

“Hey, no, wait!” Artica managed to say, getting out of the pool too. “Not like that, put her down.”

Karianne gave her a thankful look, just before the Black suddenly pulled her towards the water edge. She gasped loudly, clinging desperately to Artica and anticipating the cold water, but nothing happened. The Blue opened her eyes again to see Artica smirking teasingly as she pulled her back.

"You said you didn't want to get in the pool today because of your hair, so it would've been unkind to push you in."

"S-so gentlemanly of you, sweetie, thank you."

"Of her only, though," Bud interrupted mischievously as he trapped them in a hug, dropping all three of them into the pool.

After that, Karianne stayed in the pool, but didn’t allow Bud anywhere near her. Instead, she clung to Artica’s back like a reproachful child. Even during the water polo game, she refused to be on the same team. However, before they returned to prepare for lunch, Karianne graciously accepted Bud’s apology and allowed him to carry her all the way back.

“Is it always like this?” Paolo asked, picking up his things from the changing room.

“It is worse, actually,” Rúri replied while gently drying Syd’s hair with a towel.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Lady Paulfrid drank from her goblet. “The Archery Tournament is this spring, yes?”

“Remember that time Crown Prince Adalhar himself took part in it and a seventeen-year-old kid from the eastern region beat him by 2 points? His Royal Highness was furious.”

“It was hilarious,” Lord Ulrich said with a chuckle. “Not that he lost, of course, there is no shame in that. It just happened that His Royal Highness was so utterly convinced he won, he never bothered to check the kid’s total points.”

“Huh, funny you mention that, Father-” Karianne said, and was suddenly stopped by Bud’s knee bumping into hers. He shook his head, as subtle as he could manage. Her eyes drifted to Artica, who had lost all color on her face, her eyes begging Karianne to not say anything else.

“Yes, darling?” her father asked, noticing she suddenly went quiet.

“Ah- I-”

“Did you know, my Lord, that boy is Miss Reynirdóttir’s older brother? And she is as skilled an archer as him,” Rúri suddenly intervened, to the other three’s dismay. “An outstanding shot, surely to win the Tournament this coming spring.”

“Is that so, Miss Reynirdóttir?”

Frozen in her seat, Artica barely managed to reply. “Y-yes, my Lord. That he is my older brother, I mean. I would not dare claim the second part of my lady’s statement.”

“She is being modest,” the blonde nodded. “Why, if you could just see her in action…”

Bud snapped out of his shock. “It did not occur to us to bring her gear, my lady.”

“If we were to procure some, would you accept a humble request of skill display?”

All eyes on her, Artica had no other option than to nod slowly, defeated.

Lady Tilda clapped her hands together in excitement. “Oh, I do not believe we have had an archery display at the family manor in years!”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“Why did you tell them?” Artica moaned, collapsing unceremoniously on one of the library chairs.

“Hm? Why would I not? Ever since we arrived, you seemed a bit down, so I figured that doing some archery would help you get through it!”

“Do you know why that is?”

Bud gave Syd a look, and his twin casually asked Hejne, Ritva, and Paolo to use the next hour to their leisure.

“... I cannot claim to be certain.”

“Everyone on this estate has been flinching, muttering, and deviating their gaze every time they speak to me. We met after the bite; I’ve always looked like this to you, but during the sixteen years before that, I didn’t stand out because of my appearance, and that was alright with me. Now I don’t have a choice…” she took a deep breath. “At the Academy and everywhere else I frequently go, people are already used to how I look, so I sometimes forget I even have it but… Not here. If I could, I’d rather not put myself in that position…”

Rúri took her hand. “I apologize, sweetie, I should have asked you first. You are always up to a challenge, so I incorrectly assumed this would be nothing for you to worry about. Would you like me to speak with Lady Tilda?”

“I think it is a little late for that, she already procured the archery equipment.”

“What? It’s only been rwenty minutes!” Bud blurted out.

“Oh, you should really hang out with Mother more often. She wastes no time, ever.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Fenrir had hung back and waited for a moment to speak. Lady Paulfrid was the first to notice and turned to him with a warm smile. “Yes, young lord? May we help you?”

“My Ladies, my Lords,” he began, taking a deep breath. “During my Coming of Age ceremony, I will be formally granted the title of Lord. However, I find myself… lacking understanding of the true meaning of this responsibility. May I humbly request you share some of your experience with me?”

He bowed deeply, waiting for their answer. The adults gave each other a look and nodded. Lord Baldrek spoke first. “It would be an honor, young lord. I can only hope to provide useful guidance."

"With pleasure! Her Majesty did send word a few months back; I was wondering when you would come around to ask," Lord Ulrich said teasingly.

Fenrir straightened up with an awkward smile. The truth was he had been too embarrassed to reach out. He only did it now because the three Heads of House were conveniently gathered in the same place. "I- I am-"

"There is no need to answer that, young lord, he is just being an ass," Lady Paulfrid intervened, shaking her head at Lord Ulrich's amused expression. "Thank you for reaching out to us, we are more than honored by your consideration."

Lady Tilda concluded the conversation she was having with Aleks, the head butler, and turned around to address her husband. "I already rearranged the schedule to include both the archery display and this meeting, dear. I will inform the children right away."

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“What’s wrong?”

Artica stopped fidgeting with the equipment. “Ah, it’s just… this is a recurve bow. They’re certainly the primary choice for target archery, and the standard for Olympic-level competition, but mine is a compound bow, better fitted for hunting.”

“Oh, the piercing power is greater, I guess?” Fenrir asked, more to himself than to her.

“Yep! That’s right! I mean, recurve bows can also be used for hunting, the specs are just different… and this one’s got no silencer, so it’s gonna be loud. This bow sight we can leave it in the box, not gonna use it. The arrows have rubber vanes, I guess that’s fine. Oh, these shooting gloves are nice! I'd like to have something like these one day. The arm guard is good too, though it’s kinda stiff…” Artica was saying, and suddenly remembered she was not alone. “Sorry, Fenrir, am I boring you with all this? I’m too much of an archery nerd, m’afraid, you guys just never have to put up with it.”

Fenrir was so absorbed by how enthusiastically she talked about it, he barely noticed it had devolved into a monologue. “Not at all! I think it’s cool you have something you’re so passionate about.”

Artica gave him a gentle smile. “Thanks for keeping me company. I’m not nervous anymore.”

He wouldn’t have guessed it based on her ramblings alone. “Just like in the exhibition at the beginning of the school year, this is practice for the tournament too. Even if there’s a lot of strangers, you’ll do great. I know it.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

"May I ask you something personal, my lady?"

"Certainly, my lord, what is it?"

"Syd and Karianne are both dear to you, yes?” he said, looking at them chasing Bud around the courtyard while they waited for Artica to return. “How did you, uhm, note the difference?"

Rúri meditated on his words. "...between romantic and platonic?"

Fenrir nodded sheepishly.

"Ah, this sounds like a serious matter to be discussed over tea, my lord. Follow me."

A while later, they were sitting at a table in a nearby gazebo with jasmine tea and pastries brought by Ritva.

"So," she resumed after taking a sip. "You wonder what is the difference between one and the other. I feel there is no universal answer, but we can discuss whatever is on your mind if that will help you understand it better."

"There is someone," Fenrir began, self-conscious at the flicker of her eyes. "I, uh, appreciate, but I am not sure if it’s one or the other… and cannot make up my mind."

“Well, let us start with the easy part. Why are you friends with this person?”

“They are kind and supportive towards me, we have fun together, and have shown me they have my back.”

“And why do you believe you might want something more?”

The boy lowered his gaze, a faint blush on his cheeks. “...because my heart skips a beat when they call out my name.”

Rúri tightened her lips, trying to disguise how heartwarming she found that answer. “Have you ever shared time alone with this person?”

“Yeah, a bit…”

“Did it feel… like a breath of fresh air? A weight lifting up?”

He nodded, his eyes wide.

“If tomorrow, they came to you and said ‘I do not want to see you again’, how would you react?”

Fenrir closed his eyes, very aware of how that felt like. “I would abide, even if it broke me into pieces.”

Rúri nudged the other cup in his direction. “Drink your tea, dear, and take a deep breath. This is all hypothetical, no need to jump to conclusions.”

They ate a few pastries and finished their tea in silence. Rúri had a nostalgic smile on her lips.

“I often feel Syd and I are in a duet; his piano and my violin, playing a melody no one else knows. It is sweet, and slow, and gentle. I do not know how long we will play it together, but I do know it warms my heart and eases my pains. Maybe this is a difficult metaphor for you to relate to, but that is how our relationship feels to me.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

It’d been a while since everyone split up for the treasure hunt, and the fact they hadn’t bumped into any of the other teams yet only proved how gigantic the Viking Tiger family estate really was. Artica checked the oddly elaborate map Hanka gave her, deep in thought. Fenrir, who was aware Bud “randomly” paired them together, had been unsuccessfully trying to make a move for the past twenty minutes. He found it sadly ironic that his “blurt out” skills only worked with stupid shit, and not actual, meaningful phrases. In the meantime, however, he came up with something to use soon.

“Say… if you had a coat of arms, what do you think it would be?”

“Like, for my family, or a personal one?”

“Oh, uhm, whichever.”

“Hmm… I think a family crest would have a predator. Hunting’s been in Pa’s family for a few generations now.”

“And for you?”

“Personally, I would love a stag!” Artica replied, curling her hands over her head to imitate antlers. “Majestic and strong as fuck, those bast-! Shit.”

It didn’t take Fenrir long to understand. There was a very alert-looking Norwegian Elkhound staring right at them, not with the friendliest body language. Such a breed is known to be wary of strangers, and well, that’s exactly what this dog stumbled upon. Artica was breathing fast, nervous all over.

“No. No, no, no. Animals, dogs, react to your own energy. You gotta stay cool, Artica,” the boy said, his hands on her shoulders. “Nothing’s gonna happen, okay? I promise.��

The dog moved toward them at a steady pace. When she felt its breath on her, Artica kind of stepped away, right into him. Without skipping a beat, Fenrir took her hands and stood very still.

“I promise,” he repeated in a quiet voice. She looked him straight in the eyes, trying her best to tune out her immediate surroundings. Unconsciously, Artica matched his breathing and relaxed a bit. Just a bit.

“Stay cool, that’s it. You got it.”

The dog sniffed them for a while before cocking its head towards a rustle at their left.

“Oh, sh- Heck.”

Hejne caught himself just in time, then whistled. The dog’s ears perked up at once and returned to his side. It did not escape him the guests were holding hands. “I apologize. This dog is witty and knows it can open its kennel door with enough patience. The young master asked us to keep them locked away during your visit.”

“That’s probably because of me, sorry,” Artica said with a sympathetic smile. “A dog bit me last year.”

Hejne's eyes opened wide, briefly looking at the left side of her face. He bowed. “I deeply apologize, Miss Reynirdóttir, I was not aware. It will absolutely not happen again; on that you have my word.”

“Thanks, Hejne, I appreciate it. Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone, right?”

“About what?” Fenrir asked casually, also with a sympathetic smile. He gave her hand a squeeze, not knowing the gesture gave her heart a squeeze too.

The gentleman-in-waiting bowed once more, thankful, and took the dog away. Just before reaching the kennels, he heard Syd’s awfully familiar stepping pattern on the stone.

“Why is that dog outside?”

“If you allow me to skip that question, I can tell you what I saw after I bumped into two of our guests.”

Syd’s mouth curled into a smile. “Oh? I am listening~”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Was he underdressed? Or maybe overdressed? No, there was no such thing as overdressing when meeting a Head of House, certainly not when meeting three at the same time! Fenrir wished this felt normal to some degree, but the truth was that in that manor in Eastern Asgard few things felt familiar. Luckily, one of those was sitting on the bed, looking at him with bright silver eyes.

“I really don’t think there’s anything wrong with that outfit?” Artica said with a hand on her chin. “The cut is etiquette-appropriate, and there’s no need to be fully formal because it’s a private meeting, not a public event.”

“But they are Heads of House! And I will be too when I turn eighteen! I can’t fuck up now (or ever)! They’ll know I’m ill-suited for the title!”

“You’re not ill-suited; you’re not even seventeen yet! Give yourself some credit; not everyone has the guts to speak to three Heads of House at once.”

I don’t have the guts either, but there is no other choice. “I just wished I wasn’t doing it by myself.”

“You’re not,” Artica replied, taking his hand to deposit the locket left on the nightstand. “The person who gave you this said so, right? They’re with you forever, and even if I don’t know much about the burden you carry, I’m here for you too.”

She let her words hang in the air for a moment, trying to decide. Should I tell him now that we’re alone? No, he’s too worried about the meeting. Putting him on the spot right now would be unkind, but if I tell him afterwards and he doesn’t feel the same, the days we have left here will be awkward.

Artica reached towards him. “May I…”?

Fenrir’s heart was pounding so hard, he was sure the Black could hear it too. One of her hands, warm and calloused, was handing him the locket with his parents’ helix piercings, while the other reached out towards him. Fenrir hopelessly wished it was to cup his cheek in a reassuring gesture and maybe a k- No, better not. I don’t even know how to kiss.

Before he realized it, Artica’s hands were on his neck, gently fixing his shirt collar, and then moved down to slightly adjust his tie. She gave Fenrir a tender tap on the chest, noticing how nice his citric cologne smelled. “There. They were a lil’ crooked.”

Internally screaming, Fenrir wished he didn’t have a terribly important meeting in five minutes. He needed at least ten to recover from this. “Thanks! I… sadly must get going.”

Sadly?

There was a faint blush on both of their cheeks. She nodded and followed him, noting how suspicious it was that her four classmates and their three gentlepeople-in-waiting just happened to be chatting in the hallway outside, considering their quarters were in the opposite direction. Hejne led Fenrir away to his meeting, while the other six stared at her expectantly.

“Is everything alright? Did something happen?”

“Something like what?”

Karianne suppressed a frown. “Well, you were…”

“Helping Fenrir get ready, like I said this morning," Artica interrupted, playing dumb for the sheer pleasure of messing with her. Watching Karianne struggle to get answers while keeping her subtlety was honestly hilarious.

"A word?" Bud asked, choosing to be more direct.

"Apologies, brother. Artica and I already have an appointment."

"We do?"

"Yes, you are to help me with piano practice, remember?"

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

They had done this many times before, yet it was still amusing to see how much a change of setting impacted everything. The piano was larger than the Academy’s, and handsomely decorated in gold over forest green. The legs even had carvings that made them look like Viking tiger paws, which was both fearsome and elegant. Hejne brought tea and pastries and arranged them neatly on a table nearby.

Syd started playing at once, clearly in a joyful mood.

“Sounds like your birthday week is going well,” Artica commented, nibbling on a fruit tartlet.

“It is! Everyone was able to come, and I have been having such a great time! I do hope it is the same for you.”

“Oh, absolutely! Lots of firsts this past few days. I've never had papaya before!”

As usual, they talked a bit about Bud, a bit about Syd himself, and even a bit about the Lord and Lady of the Viking Tiger. Hejne chimed in with bits about Paolo and Ritva but found talking about himself too embarrassing and changed the subject several times. During the conversation, Syd's helix piercing caught the light, and she couldn't help asking.

“How did you meet Rúri?”

“Oh, Karianne introduced us a few years back. As you know, they have been friends for ages,” Syd explained, without missing a beat on the piano. "It was during a ball, yes?"

"Sigrblót (1) festival, I believe?" Hejne offered helpfully.

"Oh, right! What a beautiful summer start that was… Anyway, when Karianne told me about her, I was astonished. Plays the violin? Likes jazz music? Enjoys visiting new places? I had not even met her, and I already felt we would get along fantastically, which was obviously the case.”

“Obviously,” she agreed with a nod, sipping some tea.

Syd carefully timed his question with a dramatic section of the song he was playing. “If I may ask, have you found someone who piques your interest? I recall the thing with Asgrim did not go very far.”

Artica lowered her teacup. “No, it didn't… but I guess I’ve found someone, yeah.”

“I am glad to hear that,” he said with a warm smile. “Whoever that person is, I hope they value your attention. You have a caring heart; it should not be invested in fools.”

I am the fool, though, unable to tell if I am the investment they are looking for. "Well, kind of tricky now, y’know? It's hard to say if they’d be okay with their partner getting stared at everywhere they go, not in a flattering way…"

Syd abruptly ended his solo and turned around, all business. "May I make a wild guess as to whom we are discussing? You do not have to acknowledge if I am correct."

Artica gave him a nod. Syd said the right name without batting an eye, cool as a cucumber. She was not cool at all, red as a shrimp. "Oh, no. Is it super obvious?"

"Probably not to him," the twin chuckled as he ate a croissant. "I figured it out recently, and even though I would not claim to know his exact thoughts on the matter, I feel he would not mind the staring. You two hang out quite frequently already."

This unexpected acknowledgement filled her heart with hope. If only…

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“You think Hejne can get me a beer?”

“Pretty sure you’re gonna get plenty of wine during dinner, it would be unwise to mix like that.”

Wearing once more his custom-made suit with the Viking Tiger cufflinks, Bud had combed his hair back in a short ponytail, for once allowing both eyes to be visible. Sannfrid and Artica nodded, impressed with the final look.

“You look fantastic,” his father said as he took a seat near the lit fireplace. “Not a hair outta place. That’s my boy.”

Bud smiled sheepishly. “You guys gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll keep Sannfrid company while we eat and then I’ll probably go to sleep early. Those paintball matches after the birthday lunch wrecked me.”

“Fill the bathtub and take a nice, long dip. It’ll ease some of the weariness.”

Artica nodded enthusiastically at Sannfrid’s suggestion. She then accompanied Bud over to the door. “Enjoy the evening. You deserve all these good things for your birthday.”

The older twin ruffled her hair with a smile. “We still need to talk about whatever happened yesterday.”

“Yeah, yeah, later. Go and have some high-class fun.”

After having a nice, quiet dinner time with Gudvin and Sannfrid, she finally went back to her quarters only to not find them empty. Karianne was reading a magazine on the bed while Rúri brushed the hair of a displeased Hanka. Ritva offered her a plate with snacks the moment she saw her.

“Wh-?”

The Black didn’t even know what to say. Hanka seemed too annoyed to even sign an explanation.

“Finally!” Karianne exclaimed, slamming the magazine shut. “Get in your pijamas; we are having a girls’ night.”

“Right now?”

“Of course, dear,” Rúri said. “We got everything ready while you were elsewhere.”

“I can tell, yes, but I was gonna fill the bathtub to-“

The girl with the black curls didn’t like that. “No- Hm! Alright, I realize we are taking time you had already planned for something else. I understand that. I have two questions, so if you are willing to answer them, we’ll move along to my quarters, and you can join us after your bath if you want.”

“Uh, sure. What are they?”

“Do you like Fenrir? And if so, did something happen between you two yesterday?”

“Yes, I do, and no, nothing of particular importance happened.”

The other four were honestly not expecting a straightforward answer and just stood still for a moment.

“Oh,” Karianne said, still flabbergasted. “Well, okay then.”

Rúri started to gather the snacks while Hanka straightened the bed. “Put some lavender oil (tall, yellow bottle on the left) in the water, sweetie. It’ll help you relax in no time.”

Artica saw them out, prepared the bathtub, and got in without further delay. It was awfully convenient they didn’t ask about the treasure hunt because boy, that would've been vastly more difficult to discuss.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“Thank you for having us,” the guests collectively told their hosts with a deep bow.

“Oh no, thank you for coming all the way here for the boys’ birthday. It was our pleasure!” Lady Tilda said, and all the staff members present bowed after she finished talking.

Lord Baldrek turned towards Fenrir and shook his hand. “Take care, young lord. I do hope we were able to give you helpful insights. If there is anything else we can do for you, please do let us know.”

Lady Paulfid and Lord Ulrich were just behind him, nodding in agreement, but their attention drifted towards another guest quite suddenly.

“We are looking forward to seeing you in the Archery Tournament!”

“Very impressive display you gave us the other day. Who would have thought hitting a red dragon fruit with an arrow would have such an explosive, gory result!" Lord Ulrich said with delight.

She laughed nervously. If Artica had known what a red dragon fruit was before shooting it off Syd's head, she would've suggested a different target.

The Heads of House moved on to someone else, while their heirs said their goodbyes to their gentlepeople-in-waiting.

"Do take care, dear. I know you like biking but twisting your ankle is not worth it," Karianne was telling Paolo, kissing both of his cheeks. "I hope I can meet your partner next time I return home."

"Be well, my lady. I know now I leave you in good company," Paolo replied, shaking Bud's hand. "I truly enjoyed watching you annoy the hell out of each other these past days. You are meant to be."

Artica, Fenrir, and Sannfrid snorted loudly at his words. Rúri was hugging Ritva so tightly, it seemed she would never let go. "Oh, I know our schedules collide in every single way but do feel free to visit the city manor from time to time. I miss you dearly, sweetheart. Be sure to call me once you get home."

"Sometimes it sounds like that's her partner," Syd chuckled. "I do hope Hanka was not too harsh on you. She is rather serious."

"What? No, she was perfect!" said Artica, and then proceeded to mutter under her breath. "(She was the only one who looked me in the face while speaking…)"

"Farewell," a voice she didn't recognize said, and it spooked her a bit to realize it was Hanka herself. The lady-in-waiting noticed and proceeded to pull back some of her dark hair to reveal a cochlear implant. Syd had his back to them, so Hanka proceeded to sign at the speed of light.

'I've had it for a month now but… you whine too much; signing was the better choice.'

'That's fair,' Artica replied with an honest laugh. 'Thanks for your help and farewell.'

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Karianne was looking at all the polaroids taken during the trip with great satisfaction. Her favorite one was of Bud and her, dripping wet, in the middle of a kiss, but close runner-ups were Syd covered in paintball hits, and Rúri in calf-deep fountain water trying to retrieve one of the treasure hunt coins.

The train started to slow down, and a voice announced they were arriving at the Central Asgard station. Karianne was gathering her things when she noticed one last scene that should be immortalized and quietly took a photo of Fenrir and Artica asleep, leaning into each other, before gently letting them know they had arrived.

Embla and Reynir greeted them on site and after saying goodbye to everyone else, helped them get their luggage on the local train to their side of the city. Before Artica walked Fenrir home, her mother invited him over for New Years, if he was available. Knowing XXXX would leave him behind to go on vacation, Fenrir accepted right away.

As he saw them walk away together, Bud thought to himself that something had changed between those two. He didn't know what, or why, but it felt like they were finally walking in the same direction; towards each other.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

The whole place was a mess.

One moment, the carnival held for Dísablót (2) was filled with music and laughter, and the next a lightning strike caused the main tent with the acrobats to collapse on itself while everyone screamed. Bud was both glad and ashamed; glad because he was able to grab Karianne’s hand and quickly pull her away from that chaos, and ashamed because he had failed to do just that for Artica. During any other time, it would not be a concern, but during a thunderstorm…

“Hey, are you guys okay?” a familiar voice called out to them. Fenrir emerged from between two stalls.

Bud could not help feeling discouraged. He thought maybe, where he had failed, Fenrir would have succeeded. However, there was no one with him. “Sort of. You?”

“I’m fine. Where are the others?”

The twin looked at Karianne's bleeding forehead and made a choice. I'm sorry. This time, I will not keep my promise.

"Fenrir, there is nothing that scares Artica more than thunder, and this is no simple storm. I hope you understand how important it is that you go find her, because I need to take Karianne to the hospital."

There was both a plea and a threat in his voice; Fenrir did not miss either. "I do, and I will."

They both nodded and parted ways, feeling the icy rain on their heads. It took a while of wandering the area until he found her taking cover under the big tree in the park, crouching and covering her ears.

"Artica! We cannot stay outside, c'mon!" he yelled, but got no reply, reaction, or acknowledgement. Fenrir frowned, now understanding what Bud meant. This was a much deeper fear than dogs. He took Artica's hand, pulled her up, and dragged her along as he ran.

Fenrir slammed open the door to his house. One of XXXX's staff members was nearby, reading the newspaper like he owned the place. "YYYY, prepare a room for our guest, and a few towels, please."

There was an awkward silence. XXXX's staff paid Fenrir little mind, and he did the same. This was the first time in more than a year of knowing of each other's existence that the boy had spoken to him. The man eyed him over the paper, looked at the girl up and down, and grunted.

Even though Fenrir had prepared for resistance, the man went ahead without any further convincing. After a short while, YYYY returned with the towels, and was not impressed when Fenrir pulled Artica along without taking off their dirty boots. He resumed his place reading the newspaper, barely acknowledging the quiet 'thanks' Fenrir whispered.

The boy guided her to the room next to his and let her sit on the bed while he closed the curtains. Since Artica seemed to be in a kind of shutdown, Fenrir did his best to dry her braid a little while pulling off her soaked jacket. Immediately, after wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, he noticed her trembling. It was honestly a pitiful sight; the terrified mouse before him felt like someone’s sick joke of the cheerful and energetic person he had grown to care about. Fenrir somehow got her boots off and gently nudged her to rest her back against the bed’s wooden header.

When a particularly strong thunder roared outside, the Black let out an audible whimper and immediately grabbed onto the closest thing to her, which happened to be him. Artica was breathing so fast, Fenrir feared she was going to faint. With a fist full of his shirt, she started shaking heavily.

Fenrir grabbed the hand on his chest and laid it flat with his own. Then, putting his arm around her, lowered his voice. “It’s alright. I’m here with you. You aren’t alone."

He breathed in and out very slowly. "Match my breathing rhythm; you can do that, right?"

Artica did not answer, her eyes tightly shut. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. Fenrir hugged her closer and gently encouraged her to follow his lead. "Breathe in, breathe out. Evenly. Without rushing. Together, just like that."

This was only achieved once the thunder had ceased. By the time Artica fully realized it, her head was resting against Fenrir's chest. It was soothing, and comforting, in a way she had not felt in a while. Was it alright to wish for this to last a little bit longer? Was it okay to think he did not mind?

His chin was gently resting on the top of her head. Fenrir could feel himself at peace and realized at once why it was. He knew etiquette required him to apologize for his forwardness and whatever, but he didn't want to. Apologize for something that felt nice? Which seemed to be alright with her?

Eventually, they both realized that unless a certain thing was said, they could not remain like that. Slowly, without a word, they pulled apart.

In that silence, their hearts ached, but out loud, neither said why.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

A day had passed, and he was honestly not expecting to see Artica standing outside the gate. She hadn’t ringed the buzzer yet; Fenrir only went to check because Ging had been circling outside his window door for a while. They both suddenly felt all their feelings merge in an incomprehensible hot pile, and a slight blush brightened their cheeks.

“H-hey,” she greeted sheepishly. “I wanted to… uhm…”

Rummaging through her bag, Artica pulled out a paper bag full of homemade chocolate chip cookies. Fenrir’s favorites. “Thank you, for your kindness…”

The boy received the heavy bag, speechless. She fidgeted with the end of her sweater sleeves. “I've always been afraid of thunder and struggle a lot when there's a storm. You didn’t have to welcome me into your home, and keep me company during that episode, so… I really appreciate it.”

Acting against his better judgment, Fenrir walked over and gave her a tight hug. “I'm sorry, I wish I'd known beforehand. You were nervous all afternoon, but I didn't understand why. I’m glad I was helpful, even if just a little.”

She hugged back, just as tightly. “It was more than enough. I made those cookies to thank you, I hope they're alright.”

They let go of each other; yearning for more, but unable to say it out loud. At least, not yet. Artica made a short bow his way. “I’ll return the hoodie you lent me another day. I forgot to bring it.”

“No problem, don’t worry about it,” he said, reaching inside the bag and taking a bite off a cookie. “Oh, these are really good, thanks a lot!”

The girl gave him a smile, her cheeks now bright red. She waved goodbye and returned home. Once back in her room, she pulled out a hoodie from her bag. Artica had promised herself to return it, but in the end gave in to one selfish wish. The smell of Fenrir's citric cologne comforted her, especially after yesterday's events and, at least for now, she wanted to hang onto it.

Fenrir sat outside his room. He gave Ging a hug, borrowing his face in the fur. “It must be true, right? That these feelings echo in her? That it would be okay?”

Ging did not have an answer.

XXXXXXXXX

(1) First day of Harpa, first month of the Norse calendar (mid-April to mid-May). A day to celebrate the beginning of summer and the victory of light over darkness.

(2) A celebration of new beginnings and preparation of the land for planting (beginning of February).

Source:

https://www.timenomads.com/the-norse-wheel-of-the-year-viking-calendar-holidays/

#AAAU #AU #fic #AA!Fenrir #AA!Artica #AA!Bud #AA!Syd #AA!Karianne #AA!Ruri #hejne #ritva #paolo #baldrek #sannfrid #tilda #ulrich #paulfrid #ging #scumbag10aniversario #scumbag10au #eng

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by-kilian · 9 months

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These past two chapter were absolutely, gut-wrenching.. you see i went through the 5 stages of greif during every single scene, KW, i sincerely, madly and deeply would like to read an actual novel of yours, you are and absolute gem, one im very glad to know albeit being hidden.. it’s like you’re my little secret.

They way you describe killian and levi, the way you describe everything, make me feel as if im a part of them, i felt the harsh twist of switchblade, i felt the gunshot, i felt sofias sadness, i felt levi’s beating love for kilian, and i as much as i felt greif, i felt it’s warmth and it’s love.. I’m sorry if I’m not making any sense but your words made me absolutely speechless till the point idek what to say..

Every scene felt like a master scene and i really applause you for the way your wrote these chapters, it’s.. fascinating and mesmerizing really, the way you bend words under your mercy like some-kind of an alluring witch your writing is immaculate

When you blinked your eyes open, the first person you saw was Levi. His smile was bright and warm. It made you feel weightless. It made you feel loved. You smiled back, albeit weakly. Levi squeezed your hand gently, still smiling. “Welcome back, sweetheart,” he whispered.

CMON KW WTF IS THAT AND WHY IS MY HEART SHATTERED ON THE GROUND TO SHREDS.

Spoiler alert because i need to scream:

Okay now let’s first talk about mathias this stinky grey hairy ass stalkish asshole.. i want him dead like absolutely dead no breathing again for him😞 KILIAN MY SLEEPING BEAUTY RISE FROM DEATH AND SLIT HIS THROAT MY BABY ILL HAVE UR BACK

Okay i can’t not mention this jerk and not talk about the amazing.. like absolutely jaw dropping conversation he had with our fallen angel..

“We were bound to meet, and if you didn’t stop, I’m quite sure we would have,”

“What is that expression? ‘Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t?’ Well. I knew it was only a matter of time before you returned to the work you know best.”

Well i sure as hell didn’t expect that tbh.. i think i can’t describe what I’m feeling from how much I’ve felt during these few hours😭😭 HELP KW WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

Tell me something,” he said, slipping a hand in his pants pocket and sniffling. “Do you ever miss it? You must.”Your fingers ticked along your sides in response and Mathias grinned, like a wolf baring its teeth. “You do,” he said. “Don’t look so enraged at the thought. A devil cannot change no matter how hard they try. It doesn’t work that way. Still,” he said contemplatively, rubbing his thumb against his index finger and studying his hands. “I’m so pleased that in your attempt to change, it merely led you back to me,” he said, blinking fondly at you. You remained unfazed yet quiet, calculating every move possible in the brief moment of silence Mathias offered to you. He tilted his head at you and smiled, empty yet again. “From one devil to another, I really am glad to have finally met you, Kilian.”

THIS IS ICONIC IN EVERY LANGUAGE KNOWN TO MAN KIND—

Now excuse me i really need to have some sleep to function properly because i binged the 2 chapters and i can’t fathom what I’m saying or even type basic English anymore so that’s part one😭

Your lovely “💙“ anon

Omg, 💙 anon! It is SO lovely to hear from you my darling 😭❤️. I can't even begin to thank you for your thoughtfully detailed asks because you have sincerely made my days, both yesterday and today. I'll answer everything under a cut but seriously, thank you so much for this. I cherish you! 🥹

TRUTHFULLY, I MYSELF went through the 5 stages of grief writing this. LMAO! It was a deeply emotional process, but tbh, it is every time I write in some small way. I am so glad to be considered a gem to you. Really. ❤️ It's also honestly nice to be 'hidden', lol. I have never loved attention but despite that, I have a really solid, loyal following of readers and I love you all so much for sticking with me, whether you've been here since the beginning or just now made it. I love my little corner of solitude over here and I appreciate all of you for helping contribute to that.

And thank you for such a lovely compliment! I try so hard to tap into character emotions so if you can feel what they're feeling, you are fully immersed in the story which is what I always hope to achieve. I also put a lot of thought into each scene, choosing what to say and what not to say, so to be acknowledged for that means the world. Thank you so much for saying that. Also I will so take the title of a witch any day LOL! <3

Also ikr. Levi is such a sweet, sensitive person at his core that to see it spill out without hesitation now is really one of the purest things you could witness.

As for MATHIAS, writing that scene between him and Kilian was honestly like a fever dream. My hands were moving faster than my mind. I always knew from crafting his character who he was at his core, but to be able to reveal it to all of you made it all the more exciting. Like it had always been lurking underneath, under everything he did, and now you finally got to see him for what he was. If he ever alarmed you, you finally knew why. If he ever made you feel uneasy, now you could see why. It was such a pleasure to write that scene between the two of them!

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, my lovely 💙 anon for taking time out of your day to message me something so sweet. I will answer your other ask later tonight, but please know how much I treasure you! :3

#asks #💙 anon

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normalgirl2004 · 2 years

Text

My terrifying mind

Hard and hollow, I feel the outline of my chest. I take ragged breaths as I go over each rib, tracing my collarbone. The feelings I feel are of satisfaction and of absent worry. A voice in my mind tells me to thank god, and a quieter one tells me that it isn’t right to be or feel the way I am, the way I do. I climb down from my top bunk and walk to the bathroom. I look in the mirror, I suck in my cheekbones, I pinch my skin. I am relieved by unnaturality and repulsed by imaginary softness. Removed from reality, I think about what to do next.

After all is said and done, after I’ve determined how to make up for this day, I sit at my desk. I sit there for many minutes, sometimes hours contemplating where to start. I sit there for many more minutes, sometimes hours, doing. I tell myself I’ll feel better after a shower, and after a shower I feel better. If there’s any time, I’ll journal with meaning, indulge and listen to sad songs that wrench and race my heart, before delicately resting.

Who am I? Fashion girl. Journal girl. Normal girl. Esoteric girl. Manipulative girl. Manipulated girl. Do I even make sense? Am I stupid to ask? Am I ill or just dramatic? Do I need help or less self pity? I’m empathetic and a bad friend, I’m thoughtful yet cruel. I love to hate and hate to love. What right do I have? Am I making this up? Who am I?

Hot water running down my cold, small body, shedding hair. Shh, be quiet. How am I perceived? What do I look like right now, or ever? I did not feel well. Oh well. I have accepted my battles, I have admitted defeat. Am I who I want to be forever? I wonder what, if anything at all, will change. Smearing sweet smelling cream over my body absolves a multitude of sins, my terrifying mind.

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lavandermin · 3 years

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when it storms | kazuha

pairing | kazuha x reader

word count | 1.9k

genre | light angst, soft, first encounters

The skies had been cast over with rolling clouds of dark grey. Where the sun and moon used to glow so reverently, there now only fell a heavy rain in their wake.

It was fortunate for the land, your father had commented after a few days of downpour. The rain season was hardly this generous in recent years, and with the nation currently closed off there was an uneven flow of imports due to adjustment. More paperwork, longer shipment times. The people would have to endure less patron flow as the rain kept most indoors, but harvests and plenty of crystal clear lakes would be a sight to behold in the coming months.

This is good, you convinced yourself. Perhaps the dry storm seasons won’t be as many.

The streets outside slowly became less and less active with the usual flow of people. You stand against the door frame of your family’s restaurant, watching the never-ending sea of grey clouds above. The rain is cold against your skin as you stick out a hand curiously. It feels refreshing, pleasant.

“We’re closing up a little early today since the rain is starting back up again. Bring in the sign that’s outside. It would be a shame if it got blown away by tonight’s storm,” your father said as he wiped down the counters and put away clean bowls.

With a nod you happily went outside, umbrella in hand. The rain pattered quietly and rolled off the sides of its protective roof, surrounding you with a soothing atmosphere. The day had dwindled to a lethargic close, and with a languid fondness you watched the last few shopkeepers huddle back into their shops and homes.

The streets emptied out within minutes leaving muddy streets behind. The smell of wet earth hung in the air nostalgically.

Maybe it was fate, that double-take you took. With one last gaze out across the rainy-soaked street, you noticed them. The figure was so still—statuesque— that you wouldn’t have noticed them through the rainy mist if it hadn’t been for the bright crimson of their clothing that stood out.

Had they nowhere to go? Or were they someone who enjoyed standing in the rain? Better yet… How long had they been standing there in the pouring rain?

The question made your heart sink just thinking about it.

From within the building, your father’s voice called out with amusement. “Y/n, come in quick or you’ll get soaked. I don’t want you getting chilled and falling ill because you wanted to watch the rain.”

There was a squeeze of your chest when you turned back to the rain—a pang of guilt that gripped onto your mind. Rain fell relentlessly hard as it picked up, and it filled your mind with concern for that stranger in the rain.

Your body only partially turned toward the door, a quick hesitation stopping you in your tracks as you took one last look over your shoulder. That person… would probably get sick at this rate. Something in the way they stood rigidly against the elements held no joy for the downpour. No childlike amusement like the one you held for rainy days.

“I’ll be right in,” you reassure. “I forgot I left something outside.”

Peering your head quickly through the door frame, you see your father wave you off with a patient smile.

“Be quick.”

With a nod, you wait until you see him disappear up the stairs to the second floor to turn in for the night. You are quick on your feet making your way down the street of shops and houses. The patter of your boots on the rapidly-forming puddles pushed your aching legs forward, umbrella tightly gripped in hand.

The stranger was still unmoving as you approached, steps sounding out with the splash of water with each step. You were sure he heard you, yet he did not turn to meet you as you drew near.

“You’ll get sick if you stay out here in the rain, stranger,” you lightheartedly commented as you stopped next to him, holding your umbrella over him just enough to still partially shield you from the rain.

His eyes remained on the grey sky above, only now torn away slowly from the trance. There was a sorrowful haze that gripped those misty, crimson eyes.

“Do you think the rain is beautiful?” he asked.

This sudden question took you by surprise. The way he looked out at the sea of clouds held anything but sympathy for the grey skies that rained mercilessly.

You blinked, not knowing how to respond to this mysterious stranger. Unexpectedly, though, you felt at ease in his presence.

“I think the feeling of it is beautiful,” you responded, looking at the sky with him.

He hums at this answer, seemingly contemplating it. The answer comes from someone who spends their life indoors, and he understands it. Somehow, these small differences in experiences from person to person brings a little comfort to him. To know that not everyone’s simplicities of life are plagued by grief soothes his soul.

Brief silence overtakes you both as you stand in the downpour.

“Do you not like the rain?” you quietly ask after a while. There’s a worried crease in your brows as you look at him, and he cannot help but feel like he gravitates toward your warmth.

Only the harsh patter of the rain on your umbrella and flooding of the streets fills the silence for a beat as he remains in his thoughts.

“It’s been a while since I heard that question directed at myself,” he chuckles. The small smile that graces his features doesn’t reach his eyes, but answers fondly all the same. “When I was younger, I loved the rain.”

There’s weight in the words as he speaks them. You choose not to pry into the emotional scars tied to his answer.

“Are you travelling?” you ask, changing the subject.

He gives you a smile, and you notice how his snow-white hair clings to his face from the rain. It leaves a pleasantly warm feeling in your chest—how gentle he looks.

“Something like that.” Though his answers are vague, you aren’t one to pry—not when his eyes hold a distant sorrow in them. “It’s best to head inside. You could get sick out in the rain.”

“Come indoors with me, then,” you offer simply. With a warm smile you add, “If you’d like.”

He blinks at you, watches as you hover the umbrella closer over him. The rain is soaking most of you by now, and your smile is radiant— innocent in it’s bright sincerity as you offer him a roof over his head.

It makes this kind gesture all the more difficult to refuse.

“Kazuha,” is all he responds with, a thankful smile softening the gloom that surrounds him as you both hurry back down the muddy street. You introduce yourself just as briefly and lighthearted.

With a motion to the bar counter, you tap your hand on its surface to offer him a seat while you close up the shop and disappear into the kitchen. Kazuha wordlessly takes a seat, the warmth of the restaurant enveloping him pleasantly. His hands grip the towel that now rests around his shoulders a little tighter.

Within minutes, there’s a steaming bowl of noodles placed in front of him. “You’re too kind. I couldn’t possibly—“

You wave him off, plopping down on the seat next to him. “If the food is available, why not share a meal?” you interject simply, settling down next to him to begin eating your own noodle dish. “It’s hard to cook small portions when you’re only ever used to making large amounts for hungry customers. So, please, help yourself.”

“Thank you.” And Kazuha means it. “I’ll take my leave once I’ve finished.”

The look you give him is a little incredulous.

“In this rain? It’s an awfully harsh storm we’re expecting tonight.” You set down your chopsticks, looking at him fully with wide, concerned eyes. “You’re free to stay in the guest room until the storm passes. I would feel terribly guilty to leave you out in the rain.”

It’s silent, and you’ve both left your food untouched as Kazuha becomes a little tense. There’s something weighing on his mind with how he avoids your gaze, hands anxiously clenching and unclenching in his lap.

He reaches into his pocket, clutching something in his palm shielded from your view.

Now you’re curious.

His voice lowers, soft and cautious. “I don’t want to put you in danger with my presence.”

The smooth metal of the vision’s frame clangs quietly as Kazuha places it on the table, sliding it towards you.

“I’m a wanted man.”

There’s no response from you for a brief moment. Visions are rare to see nowadays, and even more dangerous to have. Your fingertips smooth over its surface momentarily, eyes sparkling with intrigue and wonder.

“The vision… Why is it missing?” you wonder silently.

Kazuha looks down. “That’s—“

“You don’t have to explain anything. This doesn’t make you a bad person,” you quickly defend. It takes him aback, caught off by the sudden emotion that makes your eyes twinkle. “Stay.”

“It would put you in da—“

“I don’t care. Your life is important. I’ll help you.” There’s a fire in your eyes as you hold his gaze, face serious. Your expression softens as you place the blank vision back in his palm with a reassuring gentleness. “I won’t lose another person to them.”

There are details that both of you do not know, information left out of each other’s backgrounds and circumstances. But one thing reigned true—there was goodness in his heart, and in yours, too. Perhaps this is what convinced him to accept your generosity.

He’s smiling, gentle upon his expression as he picks up his chopsticks once more.

“You aren’t the first to put your life on the line for me,” he adds quietly. The atmosphere has relaxed once more as you both continue eating through idle conversation in the dim restaurant lighting.

You hum, mouth full of food. “And I’m sure I won’t be the last. But,” you bite your thumb, pondering. “I’m sure you’ve been running for a while.”

With a quiet sigh, he answers, “Longer than I thought I would last, if I’m being honest.”

There’s a glint in your eye, and you’re deep in your own onslaught of thoughts. There’s an underlying anxiousness that falls upon your shoulders. Kazuha wishes he could read you better.

For the remainder of the quick meal, you hold your tongue but he can see the gears turning in your head. The bowls are emptied, hunger satisfied, and you show him to the guest room through hushed voices.

“Kazuha,” you call quietly before leaving the room you prepared for him. Your voice lowers further, barely above a whisper and you make it a point to sidle closer to him. “If you had the chance to escape Inazuma… would you?”

His eyes go a little wide for a moment. “You couldn’t mean…”

“I have a plan.”

And in that moment, he gazes at you with reverence and trust. His heart would be safe in the palm of your hand. You wait for his approval to continue with the idea. The smile he flashes you is contagious, and you are a beacon of hope in this tumultuous uncertainty.

He sits on the sleeping mat you've prepared, patting the spot next to him where he plopped down. “Let's hear it, then.”

In the late hours of the night, two hushed voices debate their best chance of escape.

“I have a close acquaintance, captain of her own fleet from Liyue.”

#kazuha #genshin #Kazuha/reader #kazuha x reader #genshin fanfic #drabble #light angst #inazuma #I just really love this maple boy #beidou #if you squint #drabble collection: coffee break for two #soft #first meeting #mii writes #short and sweet #inspired by that sad kazuha audio

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Let Me In

EZ Reyes x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Can I request an Ez drabble where his relatively new girlfriend slips into an episode for the first time while they've been together? Like one day she just stops responding to his texts and calls, Letty notices she hasn't posted on social media, no one has seen her around town or at the club. He goes to her house to check on her, and she explains that this is something that just happens and people trying to cheer her up just makes her feel guilty. So he offers to be a silent character in her home during her episode, basically moving into her guest room. Like he'll just help out by going grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, etc., so that he can make sure she's nourished, well stocked, and clean. I understand if this is too uncomfortable because it involves mental illness, but if you felt comfortable enough to write it, I would really like that 💜

Warnings: mentions of depression/mental illness, language, EZ being a sweetie

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: EZ being a mindful partner and caretaker is my jam. Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

EZ Reyes Taglist: @ly--canthrope @noz4a2 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @louisianalady @gemini0410 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @mayans-sauce @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 (If you want to be added let me know!)

Your phone buzzed again. When you looked down and saw EZ’s name lighting up the screen, you gnawed at the inside of your cheek before turning it back over and setting it face down on the couch next to you. For three days you had been dodging his text and his calls. As much as you hated ignoring him, what you would hate more was dragging him into the mess you felt like you were currently trapped it.

The two of you hadn’t been dating for very long. Things had been going well, and even outside of your new-found relationship with EZ, you had been doing well in general. Until one day when you woke up and started to feel yourself slipping. It’d been a while since you felt yourself spiraling downwards, and part of you figured that you were a little overdue for it, as fucked up as it sounded. You knew what you were in for, what to expect, but you didn’t want to put that on Ezekiel. Things were still so new, and so good—you didn’t want to stain that with the darkness that was swirling around inside your head. Besides, it was better for you to get through your depressive episodes alone. You couldn’t handle other people’s guilt on top of your own depression.

EZ was sat at the bar in the clubhouse, staring intently at his phone. He felt like if he looked at it long enough, your contact photo would light up the screen with a phone call. But he had no such luck. The anxious part of him worried that you had just woken up and decided to drop him and move on, but that just didn’t seem right—things had been going so well. He knew that things were still fresh with the two of you, though, and he didn’t feel comfortable just showing up and kicking your door in, especially when you had been making a point to not talk to him.

“You alright?” Letty approached him, instantly noticing the worried look on his face.

He looked up at her from the screen of his phone, “You heard from Y/N?”

She shook her head, “Not the past few days, why? She okay?”

He sighed, shaking his head, “I don’t know. She hasn’t been answering my calls or texts. Just starting to get worried.”

Letty was already scrolling on her phone to see if she had seen any posts from you the past few days on social media. But there was nothing. She looked over at EZ, “Nothing. Maybe you should go check on her. Can’t hurt.”

He nervously twisted his hands in his lap, “I don’t want to just show up like that. I don’t think we’re really there yet.”

Angel scoffed from the stool next to him, “Don’t be like that, ‘mano. If you’re worried go check on her. She hasn’t been around lately.”

EZ knew that he would never win an argument against the both of them. So with a heavy sigh he got up from his seat and made his way towards the door of the clubhouse. He texted you to tell you that he was on his way, but in his gut, he knew that the text was most likely going to go unanswered.

When he pulled into your driveway, he saw that your car was there. That at least gave him reassurance that you were home, not stranded or lost somewhere. He hung his helmet off the handlebar and made his way up to the front door. Taking a deep breath, he reached forward and knocked on your door.

You’d heard EZ’s bike long before you heard the knock at the door. You contemplated, for a fleeting moment, not answering the door. But you knew that wasn’t fair to him—none of this really was.

You unlocked and opened the door and you could instantly see the relief on his face when he saw that you were alive and in one piece. That relief, however, was brief as his features twisted into a look of concern. He saw the dark circles beneath your eyes, the hollowness in them.

“Hey,” you offered up as you stood in the doorway.

“Hey, um,” he cleared his throat, “sorry to just turn up like this. I just…I got worried.”

“Sorry,” it was hard to meet his eyes.

There were a few beats of silence before he asked, “Can I come in?”

You glanced back over your shoulder for a second. Your house wasn’t a mess or anything, but usually you took extra care to straighten up when you knew that people, especially EZ, were coming over. There was no point in hiding it now, though. It was too late to pretend that everything was normal.

You opened the door and stepped aside so that he could come in. With a deep sigh you shut and locked it behind the both of you. You stayed put by the front door, not quiet sure what EZ was going to say or do. You were surprised that he didn’t seem angrier or upset about you completely blowing him off the last few days.

“Can I ask what’s been going on?” you could tell by the look on his face that he was trying to choose his words carefully.

You gnawed at the inside of your lip for a second before walking towards the couch, motioning for him to follow you. You sat down next to him and pulled your legs up underneath you. He watched your every move, and you could see it in his eyes that he didn’t know what was wrong but he already wanted to fix it.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been blowing you off,” you sighed and ran your hands over your face, “I just, I sort of shut down sometimes. I’m used to how I operate, but I probably should’ve mentioned something about it to you.”

“About what?” he was a smart man, but he still wanted you to be able to tell him in your own words what was going on.

You fussed with the hem of your hoodie, “About my depression. There’s just, you know, never a good time to bring it up,” you let out a hollow chuckle, “Not necessarily the best ice breaker on a first date,” you shook your head, “But anyway. Some days it’s worse than others. It’s always pretty manageable, but when it gets bad I usually just shut down and stay in. I know how to handle myself and it’s easier to just get through it alone.”

“I can help,” his tone was so sincere.

You nodded, “I know you would. But people trying to cheer me up or get me to do shit just…makes it worse. I just gotta ride it out. Things always end up leveling off and going back to normal. I just don’t really have the capacity to handle human interaction.”

“I can help and also not talk to you,” he wasn’t trying to make light of your situation, but you could still see a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he made his offer.

It got you to give a small smile in return, “I’m not going to ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” he scooted a little closer to you, “I’ll stay out of your way. I can crash on the couch, or in the spare room. You won’t even know I’m here. I’ll be like your Alfred. Only better-looking.”

“Ezekiel,” you shook your head, “you really don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” he cut you off but his voice was still gentle, “If you really can’t stand me after a couple days then I’ll pack my shit and leave you alone until you’re feeling better. Promise.”

You sighed, not having the energy to really fight him on it. You gave a slight nod, “Okay.”

“Yea?”

You nodded, “Yea.”

You felt like there was something more that you should say but you couldn’t. Your brain felt like it was coated in a fog. Without another word about it, EZ stood up and gave you a light kiss on the top of your head before heading back out the way he came so he could go pack some clothes and things to keep at your place.

When he got back to your place, you were curled up on the couch underneath your blanket. The television was on despite the fact that you weren’t really listening to it—it just was better than complete silence. EZ toed off his boots by the door, his footsteps surprisingly soft as he made his way through your house to set his things in your spare bedroom.

You looked over at him when he came back down the hall. He looked over at you for a moment and smiled but didn’t say anything as he made his way over into the kitchen. A few seconds later you heard the sink turn on. Propping yourself up on your elbows you peeked to see what he was doing. His back was completely to you as he started to work through the dishes that had been accumulating in your sink. You watched him for a minute, and if you listened hard enough you could hear him quietly humming to himself as he did. You laid back down on the couch, letting your eyes drift shut to the sound of the television and the water running in the next room over.

Ezekiel was true to his word—he didn’t push you to do anything or speak with him. Over the course of the next few days, he kept himself busy. He went to the store, trying his best to figure out what you needed without having to ask you. He cooked for you, silently setting the plate down either on the coffee table or on your nightstand depending on where you were. Occasionally he would press his lips to the top of your head in a light kiss, but he tried never to linger.

Truthfully your house had never been so clean. You were a fairly tidy person when you were in a good space, but EZ’s dedication to cleaning your place far exceeded yours even on your best days. He refused to let himself sit idly by if there was something that he could be doing. You’d grown accustomed to the sounds of him walking through your house, going up and down your stairs to and from the basement as he did your laundry as well as his own. You knew when he was really into his tasks because he would absentmindedly hum little tunes while he busied himself.

The smell of dinner had been filling the house for what seemed like ages. You had strolled through the kitchen a couple times, disguising your curiosity by making it seem like you just wanted to get yourself a bottle of water. EZ was so engrossed in his cooking process that he didn’t even notice. Before this point, you never really thought about if he could cook, but apparently, he could and he was very good at it.

You were sat on the couch, scrolling trying to find something to put on the TV that piqued your interest. EZ came over and set a plate down in front of you. You looked up at him, offering up a quiet thank you. He nodded in response and turned around to go to his room.

“EZ,” you called after him. You waited for him to stop and turn to you, “There something you wanna watch?” you held the controller out to him

He raised his eyebrows, unable to pretend that he wasn’t a little surprised at the gesture, “Yea?”

You nodded, “All the titles are starting to look the same to me.”

He chuckled as he sat down, taking the controller from you, “I get it.”

You watched him as he scrolled through the titles in front of him. His brows furrowed as he read through one show synopsis after another. Despite how heavy everything had felt lately, there was something reassuring about the position you currently found yourself in. Even though you hadn’t wanted him to stay, to see you like this, you had to admit that it was nice to finally have someone around who knew how to have your back when you were going through it. He knew how to be there and not suffocate you.

“Thank you,” you said as you started to pick away at your dinner.

He chuckled, “Picking a show isn’t that hard. Don’t need to thank me.”

You smiled and shook your head, “Thank you for staying with me. I know it’s not exactly exciting but it’s…I kind of like you being here.”

“Kind of?” he playfully nudged your knee with his own.

“Keeping you humble. I’m not that out of it.”

He laughed for a moment before his expression grew a little more serious, “Thank you for letting me stay. I know that wasn’t easy.”

You nodded slowly, “Yea. But, y’know, it was nice for the guest room to finally get some use.”

One end of his mouth curled up in a smirk, “I might show up and stay there uninvited all the time.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile. It’d been a long few days, and it wasn’t over yet. But for a few minutes you got to feel a little lighter and that was a feeling you wanted to hold onto while you had it. You watched EZ out of the corner of your eye as he focused on the television. You weren’t much for company but there was something comforting about his presence. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you were glad that he’d shown up on your doorstep.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes imagine #ezekiel reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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handy-dandy-monster-candy · 3 years

Text

Ruathym, part Three

Rating: NSFW Length: 2272 Pairing: Male Drider x GN Reader

The finale for the romance for @kim-monsterlings!

xxx

Much to your surprise, Ruathym gives you space. There are fewer summons and the spies make themselves ever scarcer, until you could swear there were long stretches of time in which you were truly alone. Even more surprising, you found yourself becoming restless and ill-tempered in these moments, losing your patience with even Tinki. (Of course, you make it up to the little, well-meaning creature; spiders, you learn, are surprisingly good at puppy-dog eyes.)

“You’ve been snapping at the staff left and right,” Ruathym says with no small amount of amusement some days later, braiding your hair down your scalp. It’s gotten longer, you realise, and you contemplate cutting it before your captor speaks. “Have I displeased you in some way?”

Yes, you wish to say, but you’re sure that the King has done nothing wrong. Not truly. “No,” you say instead, though it sounds unconvincing to your own ears.

“Hm,” hums Ruathym, tugging gently at your hair in admonishment. “With the way you’ve been acting, one might get the impression that you dislike being far from my side.” You twitch and he laughs, triumphant. “Is that it, my little bug? Have you come to crave the pull of my silk?”

“I wish you wouldn’t mock me,” you grouse, sighing heavily. “It reminds me why I prefer my own company.”

Ruathym chuckles, fingertips skating along the skin of your back before he picks you up and cradles you against him in his four arms. “I thought humans needed time to mourn their losses,” he says, searching your face with something sharper in his eyes than his usual derision. “I’m no reader of minds, my sweet. You must tell me if you have want of me.”

You scoff. You can’t help it. When has being vulnerable ever served you well? You almost bite his fingers when he turns your face to look into your eyes, sighing once again in your defeat. “And if I do?” you challenge, lifting your proud chin. “What of it?”

“Then you shall become my consort,” says Ruathym, with a simple frankness that flabbergasts you.

“Your—what?” you gasp, distantly aware that your lips are flapping like a fish on the docks.

“Do try not to make me repeat myself,” Ruathym replies in exasperation, pinching your chin. “My consort. My lover. Whatever you humans call those of our stations in courtship.”

“But I’m human!” you splutter, struggling to sit up straighter in his arms.

“I’m aware,” drawls Ruathym, helping you get your bearings—at least physically. “Did you think I was sleeping with you because you disgusted me?”

“I…” You don’t have the words. You don’t know what you thought, but it definitely wasn’t this. “You think I’m attractive?”

“What did I just say about making me repeat myself?”

You huff, scowling up into his handsome, angular face. “You wouldn’t be. I want answers, not riddles.”

Ruathym snorts indelicately, one of his few habits that doesn’t come with some modicum of damnable grace. “Yes, I find you attractive. No one else has the audacity to speak to me the way that you do. I find it thrilling.”

“You mean you like it when I’m cruel.” You frown. “That’s not what I’m after. I don’t want to be cruel to my lover. If you want to court me, you do it right.”

Ruathym carefully sets you down on the bed, curling his legs up under himself and draping his humanoid torso across plump, velvety pillows. “Teach me what humans do ‘right’, then,” he commands, gesturing for you to speak.

You flounder for a moment; this was not how you expected your evening to go. “We… We court,” you say dumbly, gesticulating helplessly. “We exchange gifts of trinkets and flowers, we write one another letters, we—well, usually there’s pining involved, I suppose.”

“How dull,” sighs the King, watching you beneath his thick, silvery lashes. “Driders kill for their lovers.”

The weight of his words isn’t lost on you. You think of your brother and his knights—of the entirety of the kingdom laid to waste at your feet. You feel lightheaded, blood creeping up your neck and up into your face. You have to resist the urge to hide from the slow, smug smirk of satisfaction that melts onto the Drider King’s face. Damn the man. Had he been courting you in his own way this entire time? Damn him!

“What about the Queen?” you ask, hedging around the obvious revelation and latching onto one of your more prominent doubts.

Ruathym blinks hard, clearly startled. “What about her?”

“You’re married,” you say, “and she hates me. Won’t she want me dead once she realises her lover’s attention has strayed?”

The King laughs, hard and loud, throwing his head back with his mirth and revealing his fangs. “She’s never loved me a day in her life,” he manages to gurgle after several seconds of laughter, “and the feeling is mutual. We married for politics and to spawn strong children. That’s all. If she so much as schemes to harm a hair on your head, I will kill her or die trying.”

“Ruathym!”

“What? Does it shock you? I protect what is mine, little bug, and you are what I wish to possess in your entirety.”

You bristle at this, though you curse your stupid heart for fluttering in your chest like a tizzied moth. “I’m not a thing, Ruathym. You can’t possess me. Either you love me, or our arrangement remains the same.”

Ruathym shrugs an elegant shoulder, expression shifting into something bordering on thoughtful. “What is love to a human may not be love to a drider, little one. I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Is that not love? I would kill you before I allowed you to court another. Is that not love? I would lay down my life to protect you. Is that not love, this powerful, ugly thing?”

You don’t know what to say to this. You want to object, but your heart is pounding too loudly, your thoughts are too muddled. Never has someone felt so strongly about you, and while your feelings are conflicted, you can’t deny that there’s something intoxicating about the King and his firm command of you in and out of the bedchambers.

Courtship with Ruathym is… interesting. He sends you poisonous flowers at first for their beauty, unaware that their very touch could kill you. When you correct him, he expresses his disdain for human frailty, but then he sends for roses and takes the care to have their thorns removed so as to avoid any chance of injury. It’s excessive and obnoxious, but it’s endearing in its own way, even if you’ve never been particularly fond of roses. Still, each bouquet is a different colour paired with different complimentary flowers, and you begin to look forward to your weekly deliveries with something like anticipation.

Then there are the letters.

As expected, Ruathym’s lettering is swooping and elegant, more reminiscent of ornamental calligraphy than what one would use for writing to a lover. Still, each letter holds within it a terribly sweet awkwardness that lets you know that he’s never written a letter out of love in the whole of his life. He’s strangely formal at first, addressing you by all of your names in the greetings of his first few letters, but it isn’t long before he’s dropping them all in favour of addressing you as he does in person. It makes your heart flutter oddly in your chest to see ‘little bug’ written in such beautiful, glittering script, shimmering silver on charcoal grey parchment.

Soon, they become less letters and more little notes delivered on scraps here and there. Tiny doodles of advisors dying terrible deaths done in the throes of boredom, or tidbits of trivia from the kingdom at large. Did you know we had 5,363 cattle in the region of the L’Surba Caverns? Neither did I know nor care, one says, and you snort into your tea at the thought of the King sitting proudly while some poor sod with an abacus counted out their livestock from the sum of several reports. While you missed the weight of your crown, you did not exactly miss all of the bureaucracy attached to it.

He takes you on little outings, here and there. At first it’s a simple stroll through the gardens, sharing meals and speaking about your days. Then, as you both grow bolder, outings to meet—or, in his case, intimidate—the people. Finally, with glamours and enchantments, you take to the countryside for days at a time, disguised as a couple or adventurers on a quest. It’s during these outings that you get to know him best, away from the bustle of the castle, where his impetuous charm and rakish smiles lure you to him like a moth to flame, and you crash and burn in his heated embrace.

One evening many months later, you are summoned to a part of the palace that you rarely frequent, for it is usually crawling with servants and vassals of every kind. Now, however, the halls are quiet and still, and the servant who leads you to the chamber where Ruathym awaits disappears like a whisper in the dark. There, in the centre of the room, is a set of robes unlike any you’ve ever seen, woven in shimmering silk dyed the colour of rubies. You approach as if in a dream, running your fingers along embroidery in the shape of tiny silver spiderlings along the shoulders and hems—you nearly jump out of your skin when the King drapes himself across your back.

“What is this?” you whisper, looking over your shoulder at his soft, searching face.

“Your wedding attire,” he says, and he seems unperturbed when you draw away, stunned.

“My what? Your wife!”

“Is dead,” Ruathym simply replies, shaking his head at your unasked question. “We had a clutch of eggs. She went the natural way. The children feed on her yet.”

You grimace at this, though you can’t deny the relief you feel at her passing. “You’re a father now?”

“I am. You will also be their parent, when we wed.”

“‘When’? You’re assuming I’ll accept!”

“Would you deny me?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowing into gleaming slits.

Your stomach flips. “Well,” you say, flustered and at a loss. “This is all so sudden, Ruathym!”

“Is it really?” he asks, reeling you in against him again. “We’ve posed as newlyweds before. Why is it so different now?”

“Because it’s real now! We wouldn’t be pretending!”

“Who says that I was pretending before?” he demands, trapping you between his body and the robe on the mannequin. “It was practise.”

You feel your face burning, and you’re sure you might blend into the robe at your back if given just a little more provocation. “You despicable little—“

“Yes, yes, call me names,” he says, waving away your insults. “Later. Give me your answer now.”

“You know my answer,” you grumble, pushing ineffectively at his chest.

“I know it,” he confirms, smugness in every syllable. “I wish to hear it.”

You kiss him instead, drawing him into a passionate embrace and climbing up into his arms when he lifts you off your feet. You hadn’t seen the bed in the corner of the room, but that’s where he takes you a moment later, tossing your “irritating human clothing” over the edge of it and onto the floor. You expect him to bend you over the pillows. You expect him to claw at your skin, to bite at your shoulders, to whisper filth into your ears.

He kisses you instead.

He kisses you like neither of you have ever borne a crown—as if he could find the answers in the hazing of your eyes when he steals your breath with his tongue, hands in your hair and burning along your spine. He teases you open with his fingers until you’re reduced to begging for release, and then he presses into you with soft, shuddering breaths spilling from his lips, eyes on your face as you toss your head back into the sheets and writhe.

He sighs your name like a psalm when you come around him, and then he pushes into you again and again, his cool fingers threading between yours and holding you firmly against the bed as you shake apart beneath him. You feel something in your chest unbreak when he bites you without fang, staying present for every moment that his lips brush against yours and your name falls into the pool of heat between you.

This time, when he comes, he shatters like a shower of glass and sparks, cresting against you like a wave and pushing you over the edge all over again, throat trapped desperately—willingly—between his teeth. When your eyes focus again, you find him looking down at you with a tenderness you’d never thought him capable of, and it makes you want to hide. “What?” you whisper up at him, trying and failing to tug a bit of the sheets over your body.

“I love you, little bug,” Ruathym whispers back, tracing your lips with his thumb. “I have done and will do so until this heart in my chest stops beating.”

“That’s so dark,” you say, “for a declaration of love.”

“It is my declaration, and I am not a man of light. Would you deny me?”

“No,” you breathe, shyly reaching up to touch his face. “I love you, too.”

Ruathym smiles, and despite his words, it lights up the room. “I know.”

You snort. “Bastard.”

“I know that, too.”

#exophilia #exophilia fic #monster romance #monster lemon #monster boyfriend #drider boyfriend #drider #monster x reader #gn reader #Ruathym #POSTED THIS TO THE WRONG BLOG AT FIRST LMAOOOO #My work

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tsukkiboii · 3 years

Note

hi bby! i said i was gonna leave an ask and i meant that. can i ask for a tsukki, kenma or kuroo? maybe they about an argument and then they make-up? maybe they fought about fans flirting with them or video games or whatever! ill let you decide! love you ❤❤❤❤❤

my first request sjhjshshsj🥺🥺

bea bb thank you i love n appreciate you so much <3 i decided to go with kenma and arguing over a video game bc i vibed with it the most hehe, i hope you like it!! this fic is so much longer than i had intended it to be im sorry-

and i apologize that this took so long :( life has been really messy and all over the place :((

fights, tears, and make-ups

pairing: kenma kozume x reader

word count: 1.4k

genre: angst (but i honestly can’t tell if it’s super ansty-), fluff, hurt/comfort

synopsis: kenma shouldn’t have taken you for granted, but he did.

“Kenma, you need to eat dinner.”

“In a sec,” you heard the blond-haired boy reply from his gaming room, undoubtedly with his eyes still glued to the screen.

“Kenma. You haven’t eaten all day. You need to eat.”

Seconds pass with no response. With a sigh, you grabbed the bowl beside you and walked towards his room. Sliding open his door, you find him completely focused on the game. He’s pale, dark circles under his eyes drooping and anyone walking in would see he’s exhausted, needing rest, but he can’t. The only thing on his mind is that he has to pass this level.

Walking over gently, you place the bowl onto his table. Kenma jumps at the noise, not having known you were there, the motion making his screen character go a little too far left and being crushed by a falling rock.

He throws his console onto the desk and gives you a stare burning through your skin. “I was about to pass that level. I’ve been stuck on it for a day and you just had to enter right then.”

“Kenma, you haven’t eaten a single thing today-”

“Oh, shut up.”

You tense up under his harsh words, about to speak when you’re cut off by more of his rambling.

“Kenma this, Kenma that. It’s annoying. Quit acting like I can’t take care of myself. Things were so much quieter and calmer without you anyways.”

His tone is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thought it was too much of a bother to talk to you. Taken aback by his words, you take a moment to fully absorb what he had said, every word cutting a slash into your heart.

“I hope your life goes back to calm and quiet” were the last words you left him before you left the apartment with tears streaming down your face.

Kenma’s eyes linger on you for a moment before going back onto his screen. He instantly regrets what he said, but doesn’t go after you. Instead, he restarts his game and his character dies again, at the exact same place.

The bowl of food on his table goes cold.

The first day with you gone passes fine for Kenma. As usual, he goes to sleep at way too late and gets up at noon-ish and scrambles together some food to prepare for his stream. His viewers tell him he doesn’t seem as energetic, and isn’t smiling as much. He says that he’s a little tired and didn’t sleep too well last night, which was only half the truth. He feels a little empty, mind often tracing back to your smile and then immediately to your tear-stained face. He eats two bites of bread for dinner and decides to go to sleep.

“I’ll be fine,” he thinks, “I don’t need y/n to live.”

The days only spiral downhill from there. Snack wrappers thrown all over the apartment and laundry piled up into stacks. He hasn’t eaten something actually cooked in days. Having no energy to do anything, he calls off streams for a whole week. Most of his time is spent lying on the sofa with his face towards the ceiling, replaying his last conversation with you in his head over and over and over again.

“Things were much quieter and calmer without you anyways.”

I’m sorry. Please come back.

He contemplates so many times on whether or not to call you, to text you, to try and get in touch with you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was the one who hurt you, told you you were annoying when he didn’t realize how much you matter to him.

Kuroo checks in on Kenma every single day. By the fourth day, he’s determined to make him talk to you.

“Kenma, you can’t keep living like this.”

Tired eyes glued to his screen, the pudding-head boy grumbles in response, Not enough energy in him to do anything else.

Sighing, Kuroo unplugs his entire monitor and forces his chair to spin towards him so that he’s staring Kenma right in the eyes.

“Kenma, I’m serious. You need to talk to her.”

“And then what?”

Kuroo staggers a little, taken aback from the question.

“And then what, Kuroo? I hurt her. She deserves so much better anyways.”

The rooster-haired boy takes his phone and throws it onto his lap.

“You need to call her sooner or later. I don’t know when, but you need to.”

Kenma gently holds his phone with two hands with his thumbs hovering over the screen, constantly switching between the keyboard and the delete button. He debates himself for fifteen seconds before giving up and pressing the call button.

The phone has rung seven times and you have yet to pick up. He’s certain that you won’t pick up at all. Yet on the eighth ring, you pick up.

“Kenma?” He hears from the other side.

His voice hitches in his throat. A thousand thoughts are crossing his mind and his breath is suddenly stggered. He tries to say “I’m sorry”, “Where are you”, and “Please come back” at the same time, but none of them seem to be coming out.

“Kenma, you there?”

“Yn.”

His voice is so empty, dull, tiring and you almost drop your phone out of shock.

“Where are you?”

Coming back to reality, you swallow and reply, “Friend’s house. Why?”

“Can we, uhm, can we talk?”

Your side of the line goes silent for three whole seconds before you take a deep breath and reply, “Sure. Give me a time and place.”

“If you don’t mind, can you just come home?”

HIs voice quivered at the word home, like it wasn’t really home to him anymore. Not without you. You couldn’t help but tell him you’ll be back in a bit.

As you reach closer to your building, the more your heart threatens to jump out of your throat. There’s a knot in your stomach that you just can’t get rid of, and even though you know this was all his fault, your mind can’t stop racing. None of this was your fault, was it?

Before realizing, your hand was on the door handle and without thinking too much, you push the door open.

To say you were shocked from the state of the apartment is an understatement. Yes, Kenma wasn’t the tidiest person in the world, but you knew he’d never let the apartment get this messy. The moment you walked in you knew he would be in a bad state too, which confused you. But he didn’t want you here, did he?

Suddenly, you hear footsteps coming towards you. Frozen in place, you wonder if this was a bad idea. If you should just leave and tell him you couldn’t make it, but it’s too late. By the time your head has gotten back into reality, he was standing in front of you, eyes full of guilt and regret.

“Hey,” you try to say, which turns out to be nothing more than a whisper.

Hesitating for a second, he stumbles towards you and falls into your arms, leaning into your touch, burying his face into your neck and mumbling “I’m sorry” and “please forgive me” again and again.

“I was stupid. It’s all my fault. I was frustrated and took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. Everything is so much better with you and I was being dumb. I’m so sorry please don’t leave.” His eyes were brimmed with tears, threatening to spill out any second. He’s rambling, words that he had meant to say to you over the past days all spilling out. He can’t seem to be able to stop. You’ve never seen him so scared, so vulerable.

Holding him tight, you take a deep breath, swallowing the many things you wanted to say to him, to blame him, to yell at him, to tell him it’s all his fault.

Instead, you hold him tight against you.

“Shh, Kenma. I’m here now. I won’t leave, okay? I’ve got you, we can talk this out.”

He grabs onto you even tighter. “Thank you. Thank you thank you.”

You were going to have a lot to talk about, you both knew that for sure. And maybe things aren’t going to go back to how they were for a long time. But right now he was in your arms and you were in his, and he was never more determined to fix what he broke.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #kenma fluff #kenma angst #haikyuu headcannons #taru writes

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

Text

Out of Context

Request: First of all, congratulations on 1,000!!!! Could you do a a sequel to Interloper where maybe an interviewer is giving her shit for having once been a groupie and Bri Rog and Deaky defend her and have amazing sex after at like their hotel 😂-foursome anon (I’m back)

Interloper / Snapshots From Before (Prequel)

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Brian May x John Deacon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), gangbang/foursome, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, tit fucking, light choking, slightly dom reader, cheer up sex, some spanking, double and triple penetration

Words: 6,145

A/N: This was another request from back at my 1000 follower celebration last year. It’s been sitting half written in my drafts since then and I finally felt inspired to finish it lmao. Foursome anon I hope you’re still around and you see this!!

Blurb Advent: Day 10

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies

Doing press wasn’t easy, especially when interviewers insisted on questioning you all separately. You preferred having at least one of the boys to back you up. They’d been dealing with the whole interview process for so long now they knew how to avoid answering things they didn’t want to, knew how to deal with rude reporters. But it was all new to you. Perhaps that was why this particular interview had gone so badly. There was no Freddie to make the right snide comment, no Roger to get pissed off on your behalf, no Brian or John to squeeze your knee comfortingly or take over when you go tongue tied.

Things between you and the rest of the band had been going much better since Freddie had locked you in that room together. It didn’t happen overnight, there were still lingering tensions. But any badmouthing they did of you was out of your hearing which you much preferred. Gradually, as the tour wore on, there were less tensions. They got used to having you around, began including you in their games of scrabble and their not-quite-awake conversations over hotel breakfasts. Until one day, in the final leg of the tour, when Freddie admitted to you quietly that he hadn’t overheard any whispered comments for nearly a week. “And here I was thinking we’d never get there.” “Oh hush, darling, I told you from the beginning they wouldn’t hate you forever. Sure they took a little longer to come around than I had anticipated but it all worked out in the end. And now when you tell them the execs have asked for another full album featuring you, they probably won’t kill you.” They hadn’t, of course, though you’d worried for the safety of everyone involved in making the decision. Roger looked as if he were a second away from punching the first person to talk to him.

They took less time to calm down though, especially after they saw how nervous you got before the first interview. Your agent had decided some preliminary press would help build excitement for the album before the songs were even written. Calls were made, journalists were found, and before you knew it you were facing a crowd of people vying to ask you their questions, cameras flashing the whole time. It was a lot. More than pushing you into the deep end, you’d be thrown to the bloody sharks. Any lingering ill will the boys had for you vanished after that. They’d all thankfully been there too, had drawn the attention to themselves rather than let you struggle to answer everything on your own. After that they’d kept an eye on you during the smaller interviews. Mostly the reporters were happy to talk to you all together and, as long as you said one or two things about how excited you were to be working with Queen again, and how much fun touring with them was, you could get away with letting them take lead. But every now and then you got stuck with some jackass who wanted to quiz you solo. And this interview, this horrid interview, had been one of them.

Roger pushed the magazine away from himself, letting it slide as far down your kitchen table as it would go. “She’s a fucking bitch that reporter.” You looked down at the magazine, still open to your interview, the headline alone making your stomach turn. “No, sorry, that’s an insult to dogs. She’s a fucking cunt.” “Rog,” “No, that’s an insult to vaginas. There is no word strong enough for that poor excuse for a journalist.” “Roger, sit down.” Roger shot Freddie a dirty look but sat down anyway, his knee bouncing with restless energy, “Sorry. I’m just pissed off.” “Yes, we gathered that, thanks Rog,” “She took everything I said out of context, you have to believe me.” “We do, Y/N, we do,” John said softly from beside you, rubbing circles on your back. “It started well, I swear. Just the usual questions y’know, what’s it like working with Queen? How does it feel to be singing next to Freddie Mercury? Were you nervous about touring with them? Can you give us any hints about the new album? All the things that usually come up that Freddie coached me on how to answer, and I was doing fine. I had my prepared answers and there was no stumbling over words or anything like that. I thought I’d finally got the hang of it all and then she asked me to elaborate on what it was like working with you. I’d already told her the usual thing – it was fun and y’know blew my mind and all that. But then she asked how it compare to being your groupie.” “You didn’t answer her did you?” “Christ no, Brian! Jesus what do you take me for?” Brian held his hands up in apology. “I told her that it wasn’t relevant, but she kept asking, one question after another thrown at me and no matter what I said she didn’t stop. All sorts of stuff, like which of you was the best shag, and if I’d only wanted to be your groupie because I hoped it would lead to my own album, and if I was still offering my services,” you made air quotes around the words, “accused me of using you for my own gain and asked if you were the first band I’d tried it with or if you were just the only ones gullible enough to let me. I tried to tell her no and that I wasn’t going to answer those questions but she just kept going and then she told me to get used to the attention and left. I guess she didn’t need my answers to write a whole article about it.” “Which of us is the best shag?” Brian repeated the question though you suspected he wasn’t just checking he’d heard you correctly. The others all fell quiet, waiting to see if you’d answer. “Really Bri? That’s what you got from that?” “Right, right, sorry, not the important part. Look, it’s not as bad as you think it is.” “Bri’s right, love,” Roger said, much calmer than he had been before, “there’s nothing of substance in here. Like this quote, as for the fun Ms Y/L/N mentioned was had on tour, one can’t help but wonder just what she meant. Could the stories about nights spent playing boardgames be covers for debauched, drug-fuelled, orgies the likes of which would make a pornstar blush, I mean, there’s nothing there. It’s all conjecture and anyone worth a damn will see right through it.” “But some people will believe it,” “Maybe, yes,” Freddie said, “but it’ll blow over. We’ve all been in the same place you are at one time or another. If anything this officially makes you one of the band.” “Yeah, Y/N, it’s all just spiteful rubbish.” “Thanks guys, but I think I might just call it a day, go back to bed. Stay if you want, I don’t mind. But if you leave lock the door behind you.” You stood and headed to your bedroom.

The four boys stayed quiet until you were out of your room but you heard their hushed voices and hissed comments through your bedroom door as you pulled off your jeans and unclasped your bra from under the baggy jumper you wore. It took about five minutes before there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. “Y/N, can I come in?” You contemplated feigning sleep. “I know you’re not asleep.” You sighed and sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, “Fine, Roger, come in.” “Freddie’s gone to make some calls,” he said, standing just inside your doorway, hands in his pockets. “Calls about what? It’s out there now, there’s no getting it back.” “No but we need to make it clear to other journalists that those kinds of questions won’t be answered in any future interviews, and hopefully we can make sure that parasite never gets to come anywhere near us again.” “Isn’t that mean to parasites?” Roger chuckled, “getting over it already, see,” he sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on your covered knee, “I know this sucks, and I get that you’re ashamed, but I promise it’s not as bad as it feels right now.” “I’m not ashamed.” “What?” “You said I’m ashamed of it but I’m not.” “Oh. I thought-” “I’m a bit embarrassed because obviously I’ve never told my family what it is I got up to when I went to all those concerts and now they’re all going to know, lord knows some of them will believe the worst of it. And I’m pissed off that I didn’t stand up for myself more. I just let her keep cutting me off and talking over me when I should have told her to fuck off or at least called her out for being a prudish arsehole who probably only attacked me because she’s jealous I’ve fucked three quarters of Queen. And I’m annoyed that you’ve all been brought up in the article, and she’s questioning whether your good people just because you sept with me. I mean does she expect you all to be virginal saints or something? It’s just frustrating and yes, upsetting. But I’m definitely not ashamed.” “Huh, okay then.” “What?” “Nothing, just, we assumed you regretted sleeping with us.” “Lord no. It wasn’t planned, like she was insinuating, but seeping with you definitely helped me get my foot in the door with this whole music thing. And even if it hadn’t done that, it was still fun as hell and made me feel good. If I wasn’t fucking you I would have been out having mediocre sex with guys I met in pubs and I don’t care how much of a slut it makes me seem, but I’d rather fuck a whole band every single night and actually get off than have a disappointing drunk lay with a guy who’s never heard of the clitoris. Fuck, I’d still be doing the whole groupie thing now, and be perfectly happy with it, if Freddie hadn’t heard me singing that day. That night at the after party, that was heaps of fun.” “Give me a second would you,” Roger stood and walked to the door, giving you another glance before he turned the corner. You watched the doorway, not quite sure what to make of his behaviour but your questions were answered soon enough when he reappeared with Brian and John following. “So apparently we misread the situation,” Brian said, taking the seat Roger had just vacated. John sat cross legged at the end of your bed while Roger flopped onto the mattress beside you. “I can’t believe you’d think I regretted being your groupie. Have you met me?” “In our defence you seemed very upset, what were we meant to think?” “I had a shitty interview and got called a whore in a very public way, of course I’m upset. Doesn’t mean I regret anything.” “Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, we should have realised. But we have a proposition for you. We actually thought of a way to cheer you up when we first saw the magazine this morning but then when we got here you seemed so sad and we didn’t want to make you more upset or uncomfortable,” “What Brian is trying to say is that we have an idea we think you might like.” “Jesus will you two stop beating around the bush?” “Shut up Rog, I’m getting there.” “Y/N,” Roger said cutting off the others before they could waffle any longer, “Would you like to fuck us again?” You almost choked. “Zero tact. What he means is, we thought we could cheer you up. All three of us, entirely focused on making you forget that magazine.” “Wait, I’m confused,” you massaged the bridge of your nose as you tried to catch up to them, “you saw an article that called me a whore and thought it would cheer me up to, what, be your shared fucktoy again? Yeah it was fun but-” “No, no, no, that’s not what we mean,” John said, “you’d be in control of how it all happens. It wouldn’t be like last time.” “So, you’d be my whores?” “I guess?” “The point is,” Roger chimed in, “we want to make you feel better. If that means making you cups of tea and buying you a box of chocolates that’s fine. But it could also mean you having three cocks and all the orgasms you can handle.” You looked from Roger to John to Brian and then back again, trying to work out if they were joking or not. But they all seemed sincere enough for you to actually think about their proposition. It wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from them, and it hadn’t crossed your mind until they mentioned it. But now that they had, you had to admit it sounded fun. Last time had been fun and that was when you’d been passed around and used mercilessly, so having them all again, but with a bit more say in how it happened, could only be better. Plus, part of you wanted to prove how unashamed of your groupie history you were and what better way than this? “Okay, I’m in.”

“Do we need to set any ground rules?” Brian asked. “You all know my safeword,” “Saxophone,” You laughed at the chorus of eager voices, “Yes, exactly. Other than that I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Not like this is new exactly, is it?” “Well, no, I s’pose not.” “Exactly. And if there’s anything I don’t want I’ll tell you. So you’re,” you pointed at Roger, “going to kiss me now, while you two undress,” “Getting right to it, excellent,” Roger laughed, as he pushed himself closer to you. He didn’t waste any time, leaning in to kiss you right away. It started off a little too soft for your liking but as soon as soon as you made it clear how into it you were, kissing him back harder and pressing yourself closer, Roger reciprocated. His hands wandered down to your chest as you felt Brian and John get up, following your orders, their clothes left where they landed on the floor. Roger’s hands were soon replaced by Brian’s as he knelt behind you, and you found your head being pulled around so he could kiss you too. Roger took the opportunity to undress as Brian and John caught you between them. You couldn’t tell who was removing your clothes, only that once your jumper had been pulled over your head John was kissing you. He leaned back, tugging you along so Brian could pull your underwear off, his hands caressing your bare bum. “How do you want us?” John asked, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Um,” you looked around at the three very naked bandmates waiting for your word, “One of you is going to eat me out. Don’t care who but I am going to cum.” “Yes Ma’am,” John laughed, lazily saluting you before rolling you onto your back and shuffling down between your thighs. You were taken by surprise when you felt his tongue run between your lips, expecting nips on your thighs and the teasing puff of his breath as he hovered just out of your reach. But he was clearly taking the job of cheering you up seriously. Brian and Roger weren’t any different, settling into the spaces on either side of you, their light touches only enhancing the feeling John had set off. You felt their fingertips on your breasts and in the ends of your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine but not enough to make you gasp in pain. “So what would you like from us, love? What dirty little fantasies are going through your head right now?” Roger tapped his finger on the middle of your forehead. You opened your mouth but a small oh as John latched onto your clit replaced the words you’d been intending to say. “Think we’re going to need a little more than that, Y/N. C’mon, tell us what you want. Do you want us to just take turns fucking you, filling you up over and over and over.” “Or are you thinking more along the lines of last time? Taking two at a time because one cock isn’t quite enough for you now?” “Try three,” you managed to get out as you slid a hand into John’s hair to hold him in place, “want you all at once.” “Jesus,” Brian swore, dropping his lips to your neck. “I’ve been a piss-poor groupie considering the stories that reporter’s peddling. Everyone’s going to think I’ve been taking all three of you at once constantly, but we’ve never actually done that, have we? Might as well embrace my slut title and change that,” “Let us work up to it, Love” Roger said softly, recapturing your lips as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. You whined, partly from Roger and Brian’s attention and partly because John raised his head, your hips rising slightly at the loss. “Guess I should start stretching you out then,” he said offhandedly as he licked his fingers, the same way you’d seen him do a hundred times before while playing. You couldn’t stop the moan that rose up in your throat, the sound only making John chuckle against you as he lowered his head and resumed his focus on your clit.

It only took a few more minutes to have you swearing through your first orgasm. The two fingers John had inside you enough to send you over the edge as they brushed against every sensitive spot they could reach. Your neck tingled where Brian had marked it and your nipples were stiff peaks, extra sensitive to cool air after he and Roger had delighted in torturing them with teeth and tongue and fingertips. “How was that?” John asked, slowly withdrawing his fingers when he was satisfied you’d finished. “Fuck,” was all you could say, the three boys laughing, John dropping a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Think you can handle more?” “Actually Bri I think I might be done,” “Oh. Really?” “I’m kidding.” “Thank Christ. I’m so fucking hard there’s no way I could get my pants back on anyway.” You laughed and pushed yourself to sit up, “Poor thing. I suppose you can use my cunt for a bit.” “Classic guitarists always getting first go,” “Shut it drum boy, I was about to offer to blow you but if you’re going to be like that,” “No, no, I didn’t say anything.” “He did Y/N, I heard him, blow me instead,” “Ignore Deaks, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” “Like a couple of – oh!” you were cut off as Brian grabbed you round the middle and wrenched you onto your hands and knees, “children. A little warning next time please,” “Sorry,” Brian leaned forward to kiss your back as his fingers trailed up the inside of your thigh, “but if I didn’t move this along we’d be stuck arguing about who gets to blow who forever.” “N-no we wouldn’t,” you stumbled over your words as Brian’s long, talented fingers pressed into you, “I made up my mind, Rog in my throat.” “What about me?” “Don’t worry Deaks, you’ll get your turn. If you want you can spank me though, or bite me or pull my hair or whatever else you can think of. You know my limits. Also we’ll need lube so if you want to go digging through my bathroom draws and find some you can. Might be a reward in it if you do.” “Spankher, please,” Brian nearly whined, “always makes her cunt so tight.” “Think I’d rather claim that reward thanks” “Alright then I’ll spank her,” “Guys! Can you stop arguing. I have holes enough for all of you, that’s kind of the point of this. And, Brian and Roger, if I don’t get both of your cocks deep, deep inside me within the next thirty seconds I will kick you both out and let John have his way with me on repeat.” A moment of silence accompanied your statement. You saw Roger, eyes wide, look over at John and then to Brian, and could only assume they were returning his dumbfounded look. “Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven,” Roger blinked as if waking from a daydream and hurried to kneel in front of you, one hand gliding over the length of his cock as the other reached for your hair. Your mouth fell open in a gasp as Brian suddenly filled you, holding your hips tight as he bottomed out, which gave Roger enough opportunity to push himself towards the back of your throat. There was a shift in the mattress as John got up but you were a little too preoccupied to hear the door open and shut or the sound of him rummaging through your bathroom. You only realised he’d returned when a sudden, loud spank hit you and you knew Brian’s hands were still occupied with your hips. For their parts, Roger and Brian were keeping you busy, skewered between them, not sure whether the noises coming from your own throat were moans or gags or wordless begging. Brian breathlessly laughed as John spanked you again, “So fucking tight. Bit harder?” “Y/N?” You made an assenting humming noise and nodded as much as Roger’s cock would allow which John rightly took as permission and so hit you again, harder than the last.

It was an intoxicating feeling, taking two cocks at once, all the while wanting more and knowing you’d have it before long. Brian fucked you hard and precise, as if his goal was to split you open from the inside out. Had it just been him and you alone you would have found yourself creeping further up the bed. It had happened a few times before, leaving you either hanging off the edge of the bed, or with your hands over your head and pressed against a wall in an effort to keep from banging your head. But all he managed to do was push you further onto Roger’s cock, making you gag and choke more often. Roger didn’t seem to mind that though, giving as good as Brian, firmly gripping your hair so that you couldn’t even attempt to move off him. The added impact from John’s hand just made you shiver and moan. He was the one who sensed you were getting close though, reaching under you to rub your clit and give you the extra push you needed to get over the edge. Brian wasn’t too far behind you, groaning as he tried to keep fucking you, his hips faltering as he twitched inside you and spilled his seed. You felt his hands on your backside as he spread your cheeks, leaning down to spit on your arsehole before he pulled out of you. Once Brian was finished with you, you tapped Roger’s thigh and he pulled back. “You okay?” he asked, stroking your cheek with a knuckle. “Brilliant, just thought that since I can move a bit easier, I’d take over. You look like you were close.” “Fucking yes I was close,” You giggled as you readjusted your position to be more comfortable, once again taking Roger’s cock between your lips. This time you pushed yourself lower, taking him deeper, making Roger swear above you. You pulled back again, hollowing your cheeks until you sank down once more. A strangled moan seemed to catch in Roger’s throat and it spurred you on. You reached out to cups his balls, massaging them in your hand as you took him as deep as you could and hummed. The hum turned into something akin to a squeal (though slightly muffled and choked off at the end) as the sticky cool of John’s lube covered finger teased your arsehole, tracing circles around it before slowly sinking into you. The sight seemed to be enough to finish Roger off, one hand on the back of your head to steady himself as he shot his load down your throat, pulling out towards the end so the last of it dribbled down your chin. “Now me?” John asked, pushing a second finger in with the first as Roger let you go. “Stretch me out a little more and then yes,” “Oh, no, I’m not ready for that yet. I want your tits.” “What?” “Your tits, Y/N. Turn around,” His fingers left you and you were free to move, shuffling on your knees to face him. John pressed down on your shoulder pushing you to sit back on your knees and adjusting your angle so he could slide his lubed up shaft between your breasts. He pushed them together with his palms and slid them up and down his dick as he rutted against you, spreading the sticky lube over your chest. With a slight smile at John, you dipped your head a little and kissed the tip of his cock as it moved towards your lips. “Fuck, been waiting so long for this,” he groaned, “gon-na make a mmm-ess all over you.” He gave up on speech as he neared his released, communicating exclusively in grunts and increased speed until he finished, covering your chest and sternum in ropes of cum that dripped down your skin.

You laughed as John fell back. The hardest you could remember laughing in a while. “What’s so funny?” Brian asked, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “Just thought what that reporter would say if she could see me now, naked and dripping in spunk,” you managed to get out between giggles, “her face would be fucking priceless.” The boys laughed along with you, glad you could see the funny side of the situation with the article. “Does that mean you’re feeling better?” “Yes Rog, but I’m still not done with you.” “What did you have in mind?” “Well,” you crawled over to where Roger was sitting, leant back on his hands, and placed your hand on his throat, tilting his face away from you a little so you could lick a long stripe from his jaw to his temple, “I meant it when I said I wanted all of you.” “Never doubted it, love,” he sounded a little breathless. “Just let me know when you’re all ready to go again. Not you Rog, I can see you’re ready.” “I’m good too Y/N,” “Yeah, same,” “In that case,” you shifted your position, lining yourself up with Roger and sinking down on him, squeezing his throat a little harder as you adjusted. “John, you still got that lube?” “Yes, uh, yeah here,” there was the sound of a cap flipping open and you leaned forward encouraging Roger to lay back so you could give John better access. “Hey, Rog, can you spread your legs a little wider,” “S’pose so, just don’t kneel on my bollocks or anything,” “God give me a second, the thought of that just made mine try and jump up inside me,” You giggled as John shuffled closer, using his fingers to spread some more of the lube over you and to keep stretching you out. “What about me, Y/N?” “I haven’t forgotten you Bri. I want every inch of your cock shoved so far down my throat I can feel you for a week. Just let me get used to the others first, yeah? Still feels kinda odd having two of you at once since we’ve not done it much.” Brian nodded, contenting himself with running his fingers through your hair as he waited. John, having pulled his fingers from you and slicked up his dick with more lube, sank into you slowly, his hand on your back to keep you bent forward. It suddenly felt hard for you to pull in a new breath as you tried to adjust to the feeling of both of them, especially when John gave an experimental thrust, fucking you slowly to make sure it felt okay for everyone. Brian talked softly, reminding you to breathe and telling you how well you were doing, until you were better in control of your lungs and ready for more. “Are you sure you want me as well?” “Yes. Lets show that parasite just how far I’ll go, huh?” Roger laughed, “that’s the spirit.”

Brian didn’t need more convincing than that, though it did take a little trial and error to find the best way to accommodate all three of them. Brian tried perching his arse on the headboard but Roger whinged about “seeing nothing but Bri’s ballsack flopping about. And I know you see things when you’re gangbanging but that is too much.” In the end Brian stood next to the bed by Roger’s head, enough to the side that Roger’s view wasn’t impeded but still close enough so that the angle wouldn’t strain your neck. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail as he pulled your mouth onto his cock, letting you work yourself further down his shaft as slowly as you needed, checking in with you every now and again to make sure you could take more. The other two were mostly still as you adjusted to Brian, though once or twice they’d given a small thrust or shifted slightly and made you whine. Once you had Brian buried as deep in your throat as he could go you paused for a few seconds and then pulled back again, strings of saliva breaking on your lips. “How was that?” “Good,” you gasped, “New. Kinda weird but very fucking good.” That didn’t really explain anything but you weren’t sure how to describe the nearly overwhelming fullness, the sudden heat, the tension in your belly which you couldn’t pinpoint as either anticipation or nerves or just because you were stretched open on three cocks. “And that’s without us doing anything,” “I know,” you grinned, “I’m excited. Why didn’t we try this sooner? But now you guys can cut loose. I’m not sure I’ll be much use in like riding you properly or whatever. Just don’t know my brain can focus on keeping both of you in my holes while I’m thinking about blowing Bri well. So, just fuck me however you can and we’ll see how it goes.” “Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel good,” John said, rubbing your back softly. “Yeah, course we will, love. And if ends up being shit then we can just take turns instead,” You nodded and took a deep breath before leaning forward to take Brian again. You controlled the pace once more, bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking on his tip, as the other two figured out their rhythm. It was a strange sensation to start. It felt clumsy and more than a little awkward, especially when John mentioned how he could feel Roger inside you. But that eased as they adjusted and worked out how best to fuck you. John held your hips as he plunged into you, each thrust harder than the last as his confidence rose and he found out what you liked most. Roger’s hands moved over your skin rather than staying in once place, palming your breasts and teasing your nipples between his fingertips before sliding down your side to grasp your waist and then back up to your breasts. You were rocked on his cock with each of John’s pounding thrusts, which only made you moan around Brian’s. You let instinct take over there, one hand stroking from his base up to meet your lips as you swallowed him deeper. His hips jolted when you whined or moaned and before long you dropped your hand away from his shaft, instead grabbing his arse to keep yourself steady. He pulled you off him again and you could feel the spit on your chin. “Forgot what a fucking incredible cocksucker you are.” Brian groaned, “But can I take over? Fuck your throat?” “Yeah, okay,” You had time for another breath and then you were pushed down again, right to the base. “There we go,” he groaned, pulling on your hair, “Gonna make you feel so fucking good.” Your hum was choked off and ended in a gag as Brian ground his hips into your face. That seemed to be the tipping point though. The moment all three of them forgot about awkward views or who was positioned where and became entirely consumed with fucking you deep and hard. You were glad to let them lead, grabbing you, pinching and pulling and squeezing every inch of you they could reach. And all the while spearing you on their dicks, keeping you in a cycle of mounting pleasure as they found all your most responsive spots inside and out. You felt your orgasm building again, the heat rising, getting more urgent as you got closer and closer. The sounds you made were muffled by Brian but that didn’t stop you making them, moaning with every pounding thrust. As you neared the edge Brian pulled you off his cock so they could all hear you properly, their encouragement mixing in your lust addled brain and creating a wall of noise that pushed you over the edge with a loud cry. And yet they didn’t stop. Brian waited until your orgasm was reduced to aftershocks that made you wince and whine and then cut off your air as he entered your throat again, resuming the long, deep strokes that made you gag until he came, holding you down as he emptied himself completely.

As soon as the other two didn’t have to worry about giving Brian access to your mouth they adjusted your position, John pushing on your back until you were bent over. Roger attached his lips to your throat as they simultaneously fucked into you, the change of angle pushing Roger’s cock against you in a way that had you seeing spots. You cried out again as Brian lay a slap on your arse. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” John grunted as he came too, unable to hold out any longer though he didn’t withdraw from you either. His hips slowed a bit and he whined softly but he kept fucking you. “Rog,” you panted, trying to get him to finish too. “You’ve got another one in you, c’mon love,” You whined but nodded, the familiar sensation already tightening in the pit of your stomach. Again the three of them encouraged you, John wrapping his hand around your waist to find your clit, Brian reaching under you to squeeze your breast as his other hand came down on your arse again. They gave you no option but to cum, shivering between them. Finally Roger let go too, moaning into your ear as he filled you up.

It took a moment to disentangle everyone, John being careful not to go too fast and hurt you, but finally you were able to collapse together, sweaty and panting, spread out over the room. “So, cheered up now?” Brian asked from where he’d lain down on the carpet You peered over the edge of the bed at him, “Think so. Thanks for that, it was fun.” “Any time, love,” Roger chuckled from the end of the bed, patting your knee, “and I mean that.” “I’m not you groupie anymore,” “Never said you were,” “Then what?” “What Rog means,” John cut in from where he’d spread out on you window seat, “is that if you ever need cheering up or to let out some frustrations, we’re here. We’re happy to help,” “Does your help always involve a gangbang?” “Not always,” Brian laughed. “Well, a lot of the time,” Roger added with a wink. “I’ll keep it in mind,” you chuckled, “I’ll have to face my family at some point and there’s a high chance I’ll leave upset and frustrated so, we’ll see. Wonder how Freddie’s getting on with those calls.” “I’ll go give him a ring and find out,” Roger said, half groaning as he stood and stretched. He didn’t bother grabbing any of his discarded clothes before he left. “I’ll take Rog his pants,” John sighed as he got up and replaced his own underwear, exiting the room with an eyeroll, Roger’s underwear pinched between his thumb and pointer. “And I’ll...stay here?” Brian said, “unless you need anything?” “Nah, I’m going to jump in the shower. Let the other two know that’s where I am, would you?” “If you’re doing that, can I have the bed?” “Sure Bri,” you laughed, “as long as you promise to change the sheets when you wake up.”

#my writing #my fics #queen fanfic #queen smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #brian may x reader #brian may smut #john deacon x reader #john deacon smut

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mandos-lightningbeforethunder · 3 years

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Start Again - Chapter Nine (Din Djarin x Reader)

SUMMARY: On their trek through the canyon to find their bounty, Din learns more about the girl than he had previously known and contemplates how she managed to survive everything she's been through. Of course, as he's learned from his time with her, they can never have peace in their search for the truth.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Discussion of sterilization, a brief discussion of forced pregnancy, discussion of childbirth, and blood loss mention.

Author’s Note: Wow, long time no see. Life's been busy so I apologize for the severe lack of updates, I've been focusing on getting back into the workforce as well as the school semester starting up. I've also hit a major roadblock with writing and in the meantime, I've taken a step back so I'm not forcing myself or producing lackluster content. However, I'm excited to give you all this chapter! I hope you all enjoy it!

CHAPTER NINE - A STRANGER ARRIVES

Ka’rta. Mando’a for heart. The girl had a lot of heart.

Din hadn’t let it show, but the news of her diagnosis had hit him hard. The Empire had tortured her beyond belief, if her nightmares weren’t evidence enough, the scars he saw when she was sedated had told him enough. They took her son away, wiped her mind in the process, and then left her for dead. If that wasn’t enough, they forcibly sterilized her.

“They sterilized her not long after they discovered she wasn’t the one with force-sensitive capabilities.” Dr. Orn informed him. Underneath his helmet, Din frowned at the doctor’s words. A part of him grew angry, angry at the idea that since the girl was no longer of use to them, they’d toss her away. Din was disgusted.

“What you’re saying is…is that they removed her ability to have any future children because she couldn’t produce a child with abilities?” Din’s mouth tasted like bile.

“It was their belief that the child’s father was the one who passed the traits onto his son, not her.” Dr. Orn frowned at him, possibly having the same thoughts of how vile the Empire was. “Although, had they decided to—” Din held up his hand and stopped Dr. Orn’s words.

It was enough. Basic genetics explained that even if the mother didn’t carry the trait, as long as the father did, there was a chance a child with the Force would be born. Din couldn’t even comprehend the idea of the Empire forcibly impregnating her like some breeding farm.

Instead, they remained ignorant of actual genetics and because they couldn’t breed her like a kriffing animal, they removed any ability to ever have her own children. If she couldn’t produce more force-sensitives, then why let her have any more children at all.

Deep down, Din knew of the atrocities committed by the Empire but what they did to her, made him feel physically ill.

He had felt numb hearing the news. How she managed to carry herself afterward Din didn’t know. How she even managed to put up a fight in their training session he didn’t know. It made him question everything he had known about the universe. To endure that pain and continue on, Din had hardly met anyone stronger than that.

The strength she had displayed, wielding the sticks as if they were true weapons, coming at him with all her might, even if it meant she’d meet the ground again. Briefly, he had taken pleasure in sweeping her off her feet, just to see her get annoyed. He wanted to see what her reactions would be. He hadn’t expected much out of her, especially considering the news she had received earlier. After the second time, he could tell she was vibrating with anger, ready to come at him. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Followed by a few successful hits and a near kick and Din found himself almost proud of her. With time, she’d come into fighting naturally.

“I know the view is pretty, Mando, but I think we have a bounty we need to find,” Her voice makes the memories of last night fade and he chuckles.

“Patience,” He murmurs, putting the last of the supplies together in his pack. He knew she was eager to get moving, the motivation to find a possible clue in her past driving her.

An ex-Imperial, trying to lay low in a post-Empire universe. The New Republic had been searching for him but after months with no news or record of him being alive, they presumed he must’ve been killed at the end of the war. The New Republic had bigger things to worry about. Orus, still running off its own government, didn’t believe any Imperial to be dead. The droid had made it clear that no Imperial was believed to be dead unless you killed them yourself.

Opseg law enforcement pushed out the supposed ‘dead’ bounties like clockwork, and apparently, it wasn’t too hard to find them. Din had seen the holoprojectors displaying successful hunts, it was safe to say that the Opseg agency expected the same from him and the girl. It seemed clear from the data that plenty of ex-Imperials or sympathizers found themselves on Orus, hoping that the planets bustling city life would offer a decent cover to start a new life.

Din pulled a vibroblade out of his boot, testing the weight in his fingers before he hands it to the girl. Her eyes widen in shock but she carefully takes it into her hands. The blade was one of Din’s firsts when he had first started with the Guild. Before he had found himself more comfortable with blasters and pulse rifles, Din had been more into close combat and the use of knives. After their brief training session last night, it was clearer that while he was a long-distance fighter, the girl was suited for close combat.

“You trust me?” She asks, glancing at it as she studies the hilt and the blade itself. Din had managed to keep it in decent condition even throughout these years, maintaining it despite its lack of use.

“I do,” Din says, watching as her eyes light up. “I think you’ll be able to handle yourself out there and if not, I’ll be there to catch you.”

“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, admiring the build of the vibroblade. Holding the hilt in the palm of her hand, she takes a few practice swings with it, moving with precision. The rays from the suns beam onto the blade, glittering off her face.

“It’s also dangerous, so be careful.” Din reminds her and she nods, tucking the blade away.

“So,” she sighs, “What’s so special about this bounty other than being an ex-Imp? Seems to me that everyone was working for the Empire at some point in their life.”

“He’s an ex-Imperial officer. Higher up, not indoctrinated like Stormtroopers, so he was well aware of what the Empire was doing.” Din responds, tossing his bag over his shoulder.

“And you said he might know about what happened to me?” She asks, her voice tilting towards a hopeful tone. He doesn’t want to get her hopes up, but the research he had done on the bounty told him enough.

No identifying information on the ship he worked on, but with the blanks in his information, it was safe to say that whatever he did work on, the Empire didn’t want it getting out. After the war, most of it had been erased and all that was left was bits and pieces. An officer, overseeing prisoners of the war. Din had concluded that he had to at least know about what happened to the girl. She wasn’t just someone captured to rot in a cell for the rest of her life. She had some importance to them; they stole her son from her and wiped her memories. All the more reasons to find out the truth from this bounty.

“It’s a possibility. He oversaw a lot of the prisoners. There’s a chance he knew about you. Or your case, at the very least.” He replies, watching as she takes in the information.

“How soon do we have to bring him in once we find him?” She says. She’s quiet now, looking to the horizon of Opseg.

“A day or so, maybe. They incentivize you to bring the bounty in early for more credits.” He answers and she merely hums. A conflict of emotions washes over her face. There’s a question she’s too afraid to ask, unsure if she would receive the answer she was seeking.

“Will he give us information?” Right on target. Din’s not sure what to give her. Could they torture him for information? Sure, maybe the Opseg law enforcement wouldn’t question it. Would he even have any information? Again, Din did not know for sure. He wouldn’t mind getting his hands a little dirtier for the sake of information the bounty may have on the girl.

“I don’t know,” he answers instead, watching as she frowns. Not exactly the answer she was looking for then.

Displaying the map of the canyons on Orus, Din pinpoints the bounty’s last known location. He had hidden in the deepest parts of the canyon. It was likely that he had a camp set up and an array of weapons to protect himself. Din wouldn’t be surprised if he and the girl came across a couple of dead bounty hunters in various stages of decay. An Imperial was already a formidable opponent, but an Imperial officer who held a lot of information on the Empire was not a force to reckon with.

Veteran bounty hunters knew better and had expectations. If a bounty were on edge, they’d do anything to protect themselves and their assets. An amateur hunter gets too cocky and the bounty quickly puts them down and moves elsewhere, losing the trail. It was all a matter of survival.

“It’s a bit of a hike,” Din informs the girl, watching her eyes as she scans the projected image. “The droid says he’s been hiding out here for the past few weeks. He moves around after a new set of hunters come after him.”

A blinking dot displays the bounty’s last known position. The girl hums, her mouth set in a hard line as she scans the map once more, seeming to put it to memory.

“He’s getting comfortable. No new bounty hunters in a good month, maybe he thinks they’ve forgotten him,” The girl says, looking to him for confirmation.

“That, or he’s expecting a full force, so we need to be prepared for both. He’s already managed to figure out the schedule of bounty hunter arrivals. Supposedly barricades himself by the time they arrive at his camp. Takes them out and moves locations before a new round of hunters come along.” Din states, clicking through the projector to detail the number of hunters this bounty has killed off.

It’s numbers he hasn’t seen since he had taken the bounty of Fennec Shand with that hotshot bounty hunter, Toro Calican. With Shand “dead” and Calican kidnapping Grogu in the hopes of making a name for himself, Din never wanted to experience anything similar again. This bounty he and the girl had taken up would not come easily.

“He would be smarter if he moved during the downtime of hunters. That way we wouldn’t know his last whereabouts.” The girl says. The light of the holoprojector flickers off her face as Din shuts it off.

“His ignorance will play to our advantage,” Din says, placing the holoprojector in his bag, “it wouldn’t be any easier if he did decide to move during the downtime.”

Din’s not expecting much, the ex-Imperial has most likely grown comfortable living out in the canyon. Their arrival might come as a surprise, but deep down, Din knows that the bounty will be prepared for a fight. Even if it means toeing with a Mandalorian.

Beginning their trek through the canyon, Din takes the lead for the first hour into the journey. The canyons on Orus are difficult terrain. The course he had set for them was not smooth at all, it was rocky and there were several instances of Din having to pull himself up over a ledge, then pulling the girl up as well.

The faint cry of animals keeps them close to one another, not trusting that the creatures will be welcoming of their presence. Din had already learned the hard way of a welcoming presence. He should’ve expected as much, given that the planet shared a system with Nevarro. The girl, however, keeps the mood light by humming songs native to Puvo. The soft thrum of her voice keeps the hike from being filled with a painful silence, which Din is grateful for.

The hike is peaceful and with the soft hum of the girl, Din relaxes through their trek, allowing himself to admire the planet and the way the vegetation grows despite the lack of sunlight. He still scans his surroundings, keeping an eye out for any potential danger. He studies the shade of the canyon walls that cut off the sunlight even as the planets still grow, fruits hanging off the branches of trees and the leaves of planets greener than he had ever seen before.

The sounds of a running creek pause them in their journey, the girl’s humming coming to a stop as they gather at the edge of the bank. This time the girl’s singing doesn’t fill the silence, just them filling their canteens with the water. Din even watches as the girl leans over and washes the sweat from her face, running her hands down her neck in order to cool herself.

“I think it’s deep enough to swim.” The girl says, leaning back into the sand after her last drink of the water.

“You think?” Din asks her, watching her as she nods.

“Maybe,” she says, “The creeks on Puvo were shallow, meant for work. Finding an actual source of water that wasn’t meant for work or consumption was difficult, but when I did find one, I managed to get Valara to go with me.” She smiles as she seems to look back on the memories.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been swimming,” Din tells her and she chuckles.

“Not even when you were a boy?” She turns, looking at him. In truth, he can’t remember a time when he was that young, not since before he swore the Creed. When he finds himself trying to look back, the only thing he finds himself remembering is the destruction of his home and the death of his parents.

“No,” he finally says, pulling himself out of his head.

“Castin loved to swim. He wanted to swim before he could even walk. The village thought I was crazy to give him that chance, but he proved them wrong.” She smiles, but he can see the pain in her eyes as she struggles to look back at that particular memory. He knows it’s a painful reminder of what was stolen from her.

“Do you remember them? Your village,” Din supplies. The girl blinks, slowly nodding.

“Parts of them. Faces are a blur but their voices are clear to me. We were a small but tight-knit community. Everyone helped everyone.” The girl glances up at him and smiles. “I can’t remember exact details like friends or family, just Castin and maybe the midwife who helped deliver him.”

“But you don’t remember if you ever had a husband?”

“All children were loved regardless of if their parents were married or not. But, no, I don’t remember him if he were to exist at all.”

Din feels peace when she answers that she doesn’t remember. A part of him hopes that there wasn’t any partner involved, that way she could only focus her attention on Castin. She didn’t need another heartbreak if she were to ever find out the truth of what may have happened to her village. If there had been a husband, would he have been killed off by the Empire? Was he still alive?

“I do remember the pain of bringing him into the world. It was a difficult birth.” The girl interrupts his thoughts. “The healer had monitored me throughout the entire pregnancy, I knew going in it was high-risk.”

“High-risk…” Din pauses, “Like, dying?”

“Yes,” she sounds calm when she answers. He supposes that the discussion is no longer painful since she survived the ordeal and is here now. “I was in labor for several hours. I nearly died. The midwife said there had been a lot of blood…they couldn’t stop it. I remember telling her his name, but truthfully, I wasn’t sure if he had died. It was chaos.”

Din watches her as she examines the flow of the water, tracing her fingertips above the surface. In the time they had spent together, he found himself learning more about the number of times she had faced death even before the Empire had its grasp on her. Even before her son had been born, it seemed fated that one of them would die.

“State your business.”

Dank farrik. Din was tired of being snuck upon.

He and the girl turn, facing the source of the voice. A masked man with a rifle stands in front of them. The upper half of his face remains covered, only the lower half displaying his displeasure with seeing them here. He’s also wearing armor, but it’s not like beskar. The barrel of the man’s weapon points at the girl and at this close of range, she would not survive the shot.

“The public is not barred from traveling within the canyons.” Din responds, watching as the man shifts his stance, the barrel of the rifle moving to point at his chest plate.

“The public population knows not to travel these canyons. Only outsiders take that chance, so I’ll say again, state your business.” The man snarls, the barrel of his rifle swiveling to focus on him. The blast wouldn’t pierce the beskar, but Din wasn’t about to take that chance.

It’s not a blaster rifle, the closer Din studies it. It’s a stun gun, meant to temporarily incapacitate rather than go for the kill. Why this rifleman, clearly upset, didn’t have his rifle set to kill, Din didn’t know.

“Bounty work. Sent by the Opseg law enforcement.” Din states, his hand settling on his hip just above the blaster in his hip holster.

The sky is a soft shade of blue with light cloud coverage. Din doesn’t remember looking up at the sky but as he struggles to move his limbs, he understands why. The rifleman had shot him. Someone’s screaming. It’s the girl.

“Relax, sweetheart. He’s not dead.” He can hear voices, muffled as his vision blurs.

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