#in honour of sky week have some sky content

[bongo-clash]

If I had a nickel for every billionaire that tried to kidnap me, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

DP/DC week prompt: Mistaken Identity

'Look, in Bruce Wayne’s defence, he has a lot of children with black hair and blue eyes, and he’d had a very long day. But in Danny’s defence, he has no idea what’s happening right now and, according to his previous experience in being kidnapped by billionaires, his reaction is incredibly reasonable.'

(No content warnings || fic under cut!!)

-

Danny’s been in Gotham for about a week with his family, and so far it’s honestly been one of their most relaxing vacations to date. Sure, the drive had been long and finding a place to park the RV had been unsurprisingly difficult, but once the initial getting-there-fanfare was over with, everything had been great. The whole ‘not my circus, not my monkeys’ thing had been amazing for his anxiety. The famous Batman was more than capable of dealing with his peanut gallery without some random dead kid intercepting. 

Okay, he was a little bit worried about Batman’s ‘no metas’ thing, but there was no good reason the vigilante would find out that little tidbit. It’s not like he’s even a meta in the first place! Being dead is a medical condition. Regardless, he’s doing the sensible thing and not making a show of himself; he may have flown over the top of the city invisibly on the first night to get some good shots to send to his friends, but no one needed to know about that but Sam and her gothic-architecture-inspo wall. 

The hotel they’re staying at has good breakfast, the buildings in the inner city look cool as Hell, they already have heroes dealing with their issues so Danny doesn’t have to do anything, and there’s no ghosts barging into his room but the constant chaos of the city still feels homey. Overall, a ten out of ten vacation spot. 

Surely, nothing can go wrong. 

“Tim? What are you doing here?”

He’s taking a morning walk away from the hotel after he and Jazz successfully convinced their parents he would be fine on his own, and he’d stopped in front of Wayne Enterprises because Tucker would be frankly offended if he didn’t. He ignores the call at first, because he doesn’t know anyone named Tim, and it’s not his business, but that’s clearly shown to be a mistake when the call comes again but closer, and then again, but with a man putting his hand on Danny’s shoulder. He’s turns around to tell whoever it is to clear off when he actually catches sight of the guy’s face.

Sleek black hair, sky-blue eyes, a healthy tan and a very expensive suit. That’s Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne as in the guy who owns the building in front of them. Bruce Wayne as in the multi-billionaire. 

Okay, don’t get him wrong, Bruce Wayne does some pretty honourable charity work, and his tech is pretty cool and Tucker’s obsessed with it, but Danny has a very sour history with billionaires and even before he’d met Vlad he wasn’t a fan of them; being friends with Sam for long enough does that to a guy. Dealing with the fruitloop had only cemented what he already knew, and that’s that you shouldn’t trust people that rich as far as you can throw them (or, maybe just not at all, since he figures he could actually throw them pretty damn far, considering the ghost powers). 

Plus, Bruce ‘Brucie’ Wayne has this really weird habit of acting like a ditz, and quite frankly, Danny doesn’t buy it. He’s been successfully running a huge company and heading welfare campaigns for years, and if he’s truly as air-headed as he presents himself to be Vlad would’ve snatched up his company and his wealth in a heartbeat. Vlad, who is the other billionaire he knows, who is also pretending to be something he’s not with the whole ‘gentle hermit’ vibe he maintains with the press. No, there’s definitely something weird about Bruce Wayne and he hadn’t particularly wanted to meet the guy to find out what it is. 

However, it’s looking like he doesn’t have much choice, what with the man having a hand on his shoulder and being about ten inches from his face. “Uh.” He blurts eloquently. “Hi?”

“Tim,” He repeats, frowning. “Why are you here? I told you to take the day off- don’t tell me you were just planning on sneaking off to work anyway.”

Danny’s certain Tucker mentioned some co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises called Tim, and he’s fairly certain Tucker mentioned he was the same age as them and also Bruce’s ward, but do they really look similar? No one’s ever said they do to his face, and he thought that was the kind of thing people talked about- the whole ‘who’s your celebrity lookalike’. So why-?

…Tucker also mentioned that almost all of Bruce Wayne’s wards have the same black hair and blue eyes. He’d even joked how Danny ‘fit the bill’. Oh no. What if this is an obsession-with-having-a-son-just-like-him thing? Do all billionaires do that or is that just Vlad? He could really do with someone else to compare the guy to that isn’t the fruitloop right now- it’d be really great to have some kind of gauge amongst general average billionaire behaviour so that he actually knew what to do. 

Staying quiet to gather his thoughts was apparently not his greatest move, though, because the man’s frown only deepens. Bruce Wayne’s hand moves from the top of his shoulder to his arm, giving it a light squeeze that seems like it’s supposed to be comforting but really just makes him more nervous. “I’m taking you back to the manor. You were supposed to take a day off and I really think relaxing would do you some good.”

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and the smartest of all of them would be to inform him that there’s been a misunderstanding and that he’s just some random tourist who’d been wanting to take some pictures. 

“I— what- can’t you just leave me here? Don’t you need to go in there?” Is what he says instead, because fight, flight, or freeze apparently includes brain freeze too. His mom was right, he never should’ve been allowed out unsupervised. Why didn’t he bring Jazz with him?

“The meeting can wait, you’re more important.” The man soothes, and suddenly the hand on his arm is pulling him away, leading him over to an incredibly expensive car and Danny’s so bewildered by the whole situation he doesn’t even fight back. He stands there, limp, as Bruce Wayne opens the car doors, nudges him inside, starts the engine, and drives further and further away from Danny’s hotel. 

They’ve been driving for about twenty minutes before his stupor finally breaks, and by then they’ve fully left the bustle of the inner city and entered the sparsely populated realm of high society estates— Bristol, he thinks it was called? Doesn’t matter. He needs to get out and he needed to be out yesterday; he can’t believe he ever thought he could have a remotely sensible vacation. Let your guard down one time and you get kidnapped by a man with more money than everyone else in the state combined (though, to be fair, that sounds more normal given his circumstances than it should. Still, the billionaire being Bruce Wayne isn’t normal). 

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and the smartest of all of them would be tell Bruce Wayne that he’d been too shocked to refute the man, but he wasn’t actually his son, and had finally gathered his bearings to say so and was very sorry for causing him undue stress. 

Instead, Danny jumps out of a moving car. 

Distantly registering the yell of alarm and the screech of the vehicle pulling to a sudden stop, he tanks the roll and springs back up again, taking in his surroundings for all of a second before sprinting in the opposite direction of wherever they’d been going. Bruce Wayne is definitely chasing after him- he can hear the heavy footfalls pounding behind him- but Danny’s been running from his problems for years. There’s no way he’s letting them catch up to him now. 

He rounds a corner and disappears into thin air, because Batman’s not a day time hero so what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him and surely he’d get that Danny was only doing it for the sake of his personal safety. I mean, who’s he to say that Bruce Wayne doesn’t layer on his fortunes with the occasional ransom situation? …Maybe not the best excuse he’s ever come up with, but the damage is done now, and he drifts away for a few more minutes until he figures he’s far enough from his initial launch point that he can drop the invisibility. 

Looking around, he can tell that he’s definitely lost, his surroundings still reeking of big money and the actual meat of the city barely hanging on the horizon. Well, technically he’s not that lost, given that he can still see inner-Gotham from here, but he doesn’t know where the Hell his hotel is in all that grey, and the walk looks far. While he was willing to risk the momentary power-usage to get himself out of the billionaire’s sights, he figures that trying anything else would be pushing his luck a bit further than it was willing to take him. 

He must’ve been thinking about it for a lot longer than he realised, though, because he hears a quiet thud behind him, and there is now a vigilante blocking his exit. Long-ish black hair, an admonishing expression, and a black and blue outfit with a bird decal.

That’s one of the Bats. NIghtwing, he thinks? 

Aren’t they all supposed to be nighttime vigilantes?

As if hearing his questions, the taller man tuts, bringing his hands to his hips like his mom does when he breaks curfew. He hasn’t got out the electric-stick-things that he’s pretty sure the guy owns, so that’s good. “Tim,” He starts, tone starkly disappointed, and- hold on, why is Nightwing on a first name basis with the Wayne Enterprises CEO? “I thought B told you to take today off.”

Hold on, that’s a weird thing for a vigilante to know about the Wayne Enterprises CEO, and- Danny’s assuming B means Bruce Wayne- why is he using such a casual nickname for the billionaire? Do they know each other? He supposes it makes sense if they’re all in cahoots, since the Bats’ stuff does seem pretty expensive-looking, but he’d honestly kind of assumed Batman was just some rich reclusive vampire or something. Like Vlad but morally-reversed. 

Unless Batman is still a billionaire and not just funded by Bruce Wayne. Nightwing knowing the Tim guy would make sense, then, given they might see each other at rich people things. But, actually, would that make sense? Vigilante socialites don’t usually go around telling their other socialite friends that they’re vigilantes, do they?

Unless Batman is Bruce Wayne. But that’s ridiculous. He’d figured the guy was hiding something, and the hoard of children is kind of indicative of a weird guy generally, but the man being some kind of edgy bat-themed hero in his spare time was just too ridiculous. There’s no way. 

…

…Holy shit. Batman is totally Bruce Wayne. 

That means that Nightwing is probably one of Bruce Wayne’s many sons, which means that he’s one of Tim Drake-Wayne’s many brothers, which means Bruce Wayne may have called him to chase him down and bring him back to the manor. Even though they shouldn’t be doing that because he isn’t Tim Drake. 

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and the smartest of all of them would be tell Nightwing that by some hilarious comedy-of-errors, Bruce Wayne had mistaken him for his son Tim the CEO when he is in fact Danny Fenton the tourist, and he’s very sorry for the fuss he’s caused, but he should probably call his sister to pick him up now, thank you very much. 

Instead, Danny feints left and tries to dash out the corner he’d trapped himself in from Nightwing’s other side. Nightwing grabs him like a small dog with one arm and raises a grappling hook to the nearest roof. Danny feels like this is probably karma for all the property damage he’s caused in Amity as they’re flung violently across roofs higher than his town’s tallest apartment complex. He is quickly discovering that being airborne is actually so much worse when you’re not the one in control. 

He doesn’t have an awful lot of time to ponder this, however, because they reach what Danny assumes is the Wayne residence soon after. Nightwing does an absolutely terrifying set of flips as they careen over to the other side of the ledge the mansion is on, and lets him go when they’re on the ground to put a finger against his hear, presumably to some communication device. 

“I’ve got him, B! We’re outside the Batcave now- yep, all safe- see you in a sec!”

…They’re outside the what now?

Nightwing slings an arm over his shoulder- some mix of friendliness and making sure he doesn’t run away- and leads him into a concealed entrance against the ledge just beneath the Wayne mansion. 

He has to be hallucinating at this point. There are actual bats in here. The whole place is scary and dark and gigantic and—is that a fucking dinosaur?

“Tim!” 

And, as if just to cement how utterly absurd today has been, Bruce Wayne is striding towards them with an expression contorted by worry, and he feels bad right up until the moment the guy cups his face with his calloused hands (calloused because he’s Batman, what the Hell). “Tim, I was so worried,” He croaks. “What happened back there? Why did you jump out the car?”

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and finally, finally, he-

“What the Hell is happening right now.” He blurts, taking a sharp step back and letting the hand fall from his face, watching as surprise falls over the men next to him like an overcast. 

Okay, maybe not the the smartest thing he could’ve said, but not the worst thing either, and that’s probably the biggest win he’s going to get today, so he’ll take it. “What are you talking about?” Nightwing asks gently, reminding him rather neatly that he is still in an absolutely gigantic pile of shit, seeing as he’s now going to have to explain that they have all made some very big mistakes today. 

“Uh, okay, so funny story- and you have to promise not to like, beat the shit out of me or whatever-“ He ignores the horrified faces they make at that, nervousness leaking out into a hysterical laugh. “But, uh, a very bad thing has happened, and— it’s like, fine! I won’t tell anyone if you won’t tell anyone, it’s totally chill and I’m really great at keeping secrets-!”

Bruce Wayne cuts him off, looking terribly concerned. “Tim, whatever’s going on, we’ll-“

“I’m not Tim!”

The moment the words are out of his mouth, he backs away with his hands raised placatingly, panic heightened by the way the two men freeze in their tracks. “I am so sorry,” Danny chokes, figuring he can’t dig himself into any deeper of a grave than he already has. “I was just- I was outside Wayne Enterprises to take pictures and when you came up to me I had no idea what to do so I just froze, and by the time I came to I was in your car and like, I was kind of scared you were kidnapping me? Because I kind of have a history with billionaires and kidnapping so I just panicked and jumped out the car but that made everything worse ‘cause you chased me and now I’m in the Batcave and you’re Batman and-“

There is a very long pause when Danny’s words fail him. The Batcave is very quiet beyond the chittering of bats on the ceiling. 

“You have a history with billionaires and kidnapping?” Nightwing asks, like literally nothing else he’d said registered. 

Quite frankly, Danny does not want to know what their expressions are like. Averting his eyes, he replies- “That was definitely a weird thing for me to say. Sorry. Uh, yeah.”

“Are you safe?”

What is happening? “Like… right now? I mean, so long as you aren’t gonna feed me to that dinosaur then yeah; I’m just in Gotham for vacation. I don’t- it was a very nice vacation. Until like half an hour ago. Now it’s a stressful vacation.”

Bruce Wayne, to his credit, is not trying to kill him for his knowledge of the man’s secret vigilantism, which already makes him better than the only other billionaire he knows. The man drags a hand down his face, looking stressed beyond belief. “I should’ve known you weren’t Tim,” He breathes. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Yeah, now that I’m actually hearing you talk, you sound nothing like him. Bruce, were you actually listening when he was talking to you before you shoved him in the car? This guy’s midwestern. What happened to world’s greatest detective, B?” Nightwing snorts and, wow, they’re not taking this half as badly as he thought they would. And, hey, now that he’s thinking about it, these are the first actual vigilantes he’s ever met outside of himself and Valerie, and wouldn’t it be a waste not to ask them for pointers? 

Maybe it’s not the best idea in the world, but he already knows their secret identities and they’re being chill about it, so maybe they’ll be chill with his, too. Screw it, he’s doing it. 

“Again, I promise I won’t tell anyone- I’m, ah, pretty good with secrets like this.” They turn to look at him curiously there, and he tries to talk past the lump in his throat. “I’m kind of, um, also a vigilante as well? Funny coincidence, right? Small town gig, though, nothing like Gotham! And I’ve only been on the scene a few years, so… I don’t know what I’m asking, here. Any good pointers?”

Nightwing looks thoughtful. “Does this have anything to do with the billionaire you mentioned?” He asks.

“It very much has a lot to do with the billionaire. If Vlad Masters ever asks you for anything- I dunno, punch him? He’s got a really punchable face, you’d know if you met him. It’s all creepy and shit.”

Nightwing continues asking questions as Bruce Wayne’s head remains firmly buried in his hands, and sure, maybe letting this well-established team of heroes know about his less-than-legal and more-than-ectoplasmic hobbies might come back to bite him, but right now he can’t help basking in the fact that he gets to bad-mouth Vlad to someone who Vlad will probably care about his reputation with. Everything else comes second. 

“-Hang on, you said you’ve been a vigilante for a few years, right? How old are you?”

Okay, almost everything comes second. Both men are looking at him now with something that’s probably-definitely concern and is getting worse the longer he neglects to answer, and Danny is very suddenly reminded once again that the majority of Bruce’s children fit the same appearance-criteria as he does. 

He’s just doubled his own problem, hasn’t he? It’s not just one anymore-he’s going to have to deal with two billionaires now. 

He’s never going on vacation again. 

#dp/dc week 2022 #It turns out Tim Did actually sneak out to work on his day off #But he fell asleep at his desk so he didn't answer any of Bruce's calls #And now Danny's fending off threats of adoption with a stick #Tim and Danny aren't even twins or anything. They have literally Nothing to do with each other Danny's just a lookalike with horrible luck #If there's any mistakes please just ignore them I read it over once and I just wanted to get it out into the world #Exciting news tho!! I'm posting another thing for the peacock au for tomorrow's prompt :) #dpxdc #Bongo's Writing!!!

[xxrainbowvibezxx]

Piggybacking off of the Taleena daughter HC ask, what about Jadetana? What are your thoughts? What would their wedding day be like? Who proposed to who? What does the ring(or whatever ornament that Outworlders use)? Are children something that they would want?

I can see both Kitana and Mileena slipping little references to Sindel (mom's gotta get her rep) into their individual ceremonies in some way. Maybe using her favourite flowers as decor or something along those lines, kinda like how the festival in MK1's story mode was done to honour Jerrod's memory.

Small Jadetana wedding fic

(Wedding headcanons will be separate since this turned into a fic)

(They need to bring Jade back already. I miss her)

•I headcanon that Jade proposed

•jade is countess of Edenia

The sun was slowly starting to set over Edenia. The blue sky started to fade into an ombre of orange, pink, and purple. Jade could feel the sudden change in the air, the slight breeze kissing her skin. It felt great after spending the day in the sun. She had enjoyed one of the rare free days that both her and Kitana had. So fortunate that they both happened to have some free time, at the same time. Being Countess leaves her little time to herself with specific responsibilities and royal meetings. Her schedule is usually full. And Kitana. Kitana. Princess, General, one of the daughters of Sindel, the list goes on and on. Her schedule is always full.

Jade turns her head as she feels Kitana's slender finger slip through her own. The Countess squeezed her hand in return, offering Kitana a smile. Kitana smiled back, feeling the warmth envelope her hand. Such a welcoming feeling after weeks of stress with leading an army and helping her older sister's reign. Things get rough, so she truly cherishes the days when she can finally release the weight on her shoulders.

Kitana lets out a contented sigh, "I feel at ease. After weeks, it feels nice getting away. even if it's just a day, im glad we get to spend it together."

Jade chuckles, rubbing her thumb against the top of Kitana's hand. "I imagine the last few weeks haven't been too kind to you."

"It comes with the position. Snakes are always after my sister's neck, even after thousands of years. Tanya and I have dealt with 5 separate attempted assassinations. On top of that, there's been whispers of a rebellion. I wouldn't be surprised if it's Shao." Kitana rubs her forehead with her free hand. "I just want my sister's reign to thrive."

Jade's face showed signs of concern as she stared at Kitana. "And you're doing a great job, Kitana." She squeezes her hand again. "You're a strong general, and your sister has rolled in another golden age in Outworld thanks to your help. And remember, Edenia is your ally. My army will aid you if you fall short."

Kitana felt appreciative. For the time she's known the green eyed royal, she's been nothing nice.

They fell into a comfortable silence as the carriage ride continued. The only sounds being the whispers of the wind and the creaking of the carriage wheels. They were on the outskirts of Edenia by now. Jade figured that this would be the best time to propose. She had it in her mind to do it months ago, but of course, duty came first.

The carriage was rolling through a spot the Countess was familiar with. Perfect. She knocks on the carriage for it to stop. Kitana furrows her brow in confusion. Jade saw the look on Kitana's face from the corner of her eye. "There's a place I want to show you. The view is beautiful you'll love it."

As the carriage comes to a full stop, Kitana steps out first. She holds her hand out for the Countess to grab. Jade happily accepts her hand and steps out of the carriage, her heels meeting the dirt road. They had stopped next to a grassy cliff that overlooked a vast field of trees on one side and red, pink, and yellow hibiscus flowers on the other. In the distance stood out a wisteria tree. Hand in hand, Jade led Kitana towards the tree. They sat down to take in the view. From here, they can see the Edenian palace. Shades of orange and purple painted the sky as the sun started to hide behind the place.

"Jade, this view is extraordinary. It's as if I'm sitting in front of a painted canvas. Outworld is rarely this quiet." Kitana's eyes light up with awe as she admired the view in front of her. Jade turns her head to look at Kitana. The Countess takes a moment to adore the way the warm hues give the princess a warm glow, her usual dark brown eyes looking like golden honey. "It definitely adds to Edenia's charm." Both let out a short chuckle and stare off to the distance.

Jade takes a deep, contented breath before speaking. "I used to come here a lot when I was a child. My parents would stop here after royal meetings to distress. I used to pick flowers and give them to my mother. She happily accepted them and made a little flower crown and braided the leftover flowers in my hair." Jade smiles fondly as the memories of her childhood start to play in her head. "It astounds me how one place can hold many beautiful moments, and I want to keep making them... with you, by my side, Kitana."

Kitana's eyes widen slightly as she takes in each word that comes out of Jades mouth. Jade takes hold of Kitana's hand, standing up and helping her up. She grabbed her other hand as she smiled softly at the beautiful princess standing in front of her.

"From the day we were acquainted to now has been the happiest years. Kitana, you are a confident, gorgeous, strong woman. A classy princess and an even better general." The princesses' eyes begin to swell with tears as her smile widens. Jade continues, "I want to be with you through joy and sorrow. Be your strength when you feel weak. I will support you when times get rough." Jade reaches behind her back, revealing a velvet, navy blue box. She opens the box, presenting Kitana with a ring. A beautiful ring with a blue jewel surrounded by gold and silver.

"With this ring, I ask you to be mine, princess Kitana of Outworld." Kitana sniffles, nodding her head while choking out the word yes. Jade's smile grows wider as she carefully slips the ring on the princess' left ring finger. Kitana wraps her arms around Jade's neck, pulling her in for a kiss.

When they pull away, Kitana rests her forehead against Jade's forehead. "You know, I was gonna propose to you. Mileena came along with me to get the ring. You have no idea what that's like." Jade chuckles, "you still can. I'm right here." Kitana pulls out a small box and opens it.

"Jade, my enchanting countess, I am forever grateful for the gods who decided to make our paths cross. The day we met marked the start of something I never thought would blossom into what we have today. And with this ring, it marks the new chapter in our lives filled with promise and love. I ask you to be mine, Jade, countess of Edenia." Tears came down as she tried to wipe them. "Yes," she was smiling ear to ear, Kitana expression mirrored hers. The princess slipped the ring on the countess' finger before being pulled into a kiss.

The ring Jade got for Kitana

The ring Kitana got for Jade

(This is the first fic I posted. I know it's not the greatest, but I tried. I wasn't expecting this to turn into a fic it kind of just happened. I'll get the wedding headcanons done soon. Thank you for reading, and if you have any suggestions, my asks are always open)

#Kitana #jade #jadetana #kitana mk1 #jade mk1 #countess jade #first Jadetana fic #mk1 #lgbtq #wlw

[thebreakup]

Requested by @triplexdoublex "I was thinking like a friends to lovers type thing where Colson and reader are best friends and they’re at like a carnival or arcade and colson wins a candy necklace choker from the candy claw machine and gives it to reader and she puts it on and later they go back to one of their houses and our watching a movie and she’s like snacking on the necklace stretching it from her neck to nibble on it , and innocently Colson’s like hey save some for me and goes to eat some and his lips graze her neck and she accidentally lets out a moan and it ends up leading to smut"

•🎃•🎃•🎃•🎃•🎃•🎃•🎃•🎃•🎃•🎃•🎃•🎃•

Colson pulled his car up into the gravel car park of the carnival, in the distance a brightly lit Ferris Wheel was visible illuminating the dark October sky. Quickly he jumped out of the car and opened your door for you. "M'lady." He said with a joking bow of his head as he took your hand. "Goofball." You replied with a mock look of disappointment on your face which was quickly wiped away as your date for the night dragged you to the entrance of the fair like an excited kid. The scent of burnt sugar from whatever sickly treats were being cooked filled the air taking you back to your past couple birthdays. You were an October baby after all, your last couple birthdays spent in similar ways, you could tell today was going to be extra special though. Thanks to your reminiscing you didn't notice Colson had handed in your tickets and was tying an entry band around your wrist with haste as he rambled on. "We gotta try win something tonight, I'm a master at those ring toss games! Oo- remind me to take a candy apple back to Rook too!" You giggled up at him and leaned up on your tippy toes and pecked him on the cheek, enjoying the distinct scent of his cologne and a hint of weed still managing to power through. "I will, can't be having you two fighting again, now let's go before it gets too busy!" You slapped him on the back as you raced towards the Ferris Wheel. "Last one there is paying for the sweets!

-🌕-🌑-🌕-🌑-🌕-🌑-🌕-🌑-🌕-🌑-🌕-🌑-🌕-

Now at a claw machine you were both taking turns attempting to win something, you were spending more money than what the prize was worth for sure but it was the journey not the destination in this instant. "Got it!!" Colson exclaimed with triumph, as if he just won the Olympics. "Take that!!" It was a background noise as you felt your heart swell when you saw a candy choker fall into the collection bay of the contraption. Colson immediately swiping it and pulling you into a hug. "Wouldn't this look just beautiful on Rook?" You laughed as you looked up at him. "Gonna do the honours of putting it on me?" You watched him through your eyelashes as you turned around and moved your hair out the way. You felt him press up against you from behind and clip the sweet treat to your neck being careful to not get it in your hair. "Why thank you." You said teasingly as Colson was red in the face and changed the subject quickly. "Let's g-go grab those candy apples before they run out and get back to my place!- It's getting late, the creepy crawlies might come out." He added confidently at the end once again grabbing your hand and dragging you to another stall.

/🍬/🍬/🍬/🍬/🍬/🍬/🍬/🍬/🍬/🍬/🍬/🍬/🍬/

Now both of you were cuddled up on Colson's couch watching a plethora of spooky Halloween movies, even though it was 2 weeks until the holiday the mood felt right. Bloody Birthday, Freaky, Coraline and Child's Play were playing one by one on a Dvd Player, Colson exclaiming it was better the old school way. You didn't mind though, perfectly content spooning with him while you suckled on your candy choker he had won for you earlier in the evening. "Save some for me huh?" Colson chuckled as he licked the ball of candy that was half hanging out of your mouth. The action took you so off guard you shuddered and let out a squeak as his warm tongue dragged over your sticky syrup coated lips. "Mm. Cherry.." He mumbled to himself as he looked up at you with a smirk. Obviously a murder attempt on his part, those eyes cutting through you like a hot knife through butter as tension in the room rose. The screams of Chucky's last victim blurred out. Colson suddenly seemed very interested though as he quickly turned his attention back to the screen. You blushed furiously as you let the candy slip from your mouth it's stickiness resting itself on your clavicle. Determined now to get your own back you pushed back into Colson as he was the big spoon quickly managing to nestle your cheeks up against his crotch unsubtly. He still seemed determined to ruffle your feathers though as you took an even more drastic measure as you stood up and threw your striped tube top off revealing your lacy bralette. That certainly got his attention as he let his eyes drag up your body as he sat up in front of you. "Wow, you're really this desperate huh? Well since you started this you better finish this angelface." He chided you as he made quick work of getting his pants and vest off. "What are you waiting for?."

💋~💋~💋~💋~💋~💋~💋~💋~💋~💋~💋~💋~💋

Notes: I didn't know how to continue the smut so if it comes to me in the future I'll edit it and add it onto the end! Also a reminder I'm British so some of these words might be unfamiliar to American readers, I tried to use the American words for alot of this but some of them just really don't sound right to me so some of them may be different! <3 And I don't really have a taglist and typically tag people I know are part of the fandom and that I read their work so if you want to remove yourself from this you can just message me and be removed!

@triplexdoublex @cosmicbash @hollywoodxwhore @draculakells @blxxdyvalentine19xx @i-think-i-did-it-again @jaxbreaker

#mgk #colson x reader #colson baker #jp cappelletty #estxx #rookxx #rook cappelletty #machine gun kelly #halloween #fanfic #est19xx #est4life

[twobraincellkentwell]

Conditions of Death

[A Game Called Revenge]

Part One

Series Masterlist Part Two

Summary: Clio's revenge has been planned out perfectly ever since the words existing victors left the president's mouth. Nothing will go wrong and everyone she will finally get what they deserve. For revenge is a dish best served drenched in the blood of those who try to stop you.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the nature of content in some of the chapters. Not really any warnings relevant for this chapter except if you count President Snow. He deserves his own warning.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: This is my shortest chapter but a quick introduction to Clio (and AU Cato) who is my baby after writing her for the longest time! I have no upload schedule yet but I am hoping for maybe once a week or fortnight? Lemme know what you think :)

The last time there was a Quarter Quell, Clio hadn't even been born yet. She had never sat down and watched President Snow announce to the nation the conditions of death. One of her earliest memories is sitting between her father's legs, her sister between their mother's, eyes fixed on the small television screen in their muted living room as the sixty-second Hunger Games begins. She can recall being fascinated by the blinding shimmer of the clothes that the Capitol citizens wore, and how different and otherworldly they seemed when compared to the tributes', and the fabrics worn by the women in two. Horrified but also intrigued by the incredibly violent end to the summer of viewing; an exhausted young girl using her teeth as her deadliest weapon.

Her parents enrolled her into the Peacekeeper Preparatory School in the September of that year, five months after her fifth birthday; living and training five days per week in giant training halls while being taught how to read in between her session times. All her spare minutes were split between improving her stamina, her fitness levels and her fighting technique with the occasional weekend spent teaching herself about the stars, admiring the sky as it twinkled in the shadow of the mountains.

She wonders, as Cato fidgets with the settings on the television, if the announcement of the latest Quarter Quell makes him think of his childhood the way it makes her think back to hers. Whether it causes Enobaria, whose house three doors down remains undisturbed, to reflect on her games; whether it leads Brutus to think back to the last quell, since he was secure in his status as a victor by then; whether they each look back on the important moments of their lives as the nation anticipates this year's twist.

The television displays Caesar Flickerman, decked in bright orange, hosting a press release surrounding the Victory Tour of the 74th games. Clio is not surprised at the way he fawns over the two new victors from twelve, and she's not surprised that they don't air the footage of their visits to Two and Eleven; clips from Four and Five are also missing from the reel as the footage jumps about. She'd heard about the unrest that occurred in Eleven after their speech, about the riots that broke out in the streets after she solemnly reflected on her relationship with the fallen female tribute. She'd witnessed her own distrust in the both of them in Two. Having met the most recent victors only twice and both only briefly, she doesn't trust the two of them as far as she can throw them. Something about their attitude rubs her the wrong way. It follows with footage of a wedding dress shoot for none other than Katniss Everdeen herself. Nauseated, Clio reaches for a sip of water before settling back on the sofa.

Suddenly, Panem's anthem blares from the television, and Cato is beside her on the sofa offering her his hand. The camera pans away from Caesar and onto President Snow who stands behind an ornate rostrum and grimaces as he begins to address the nation.

"Ladies and gentleman," He begins as the crowd erupts with cheers. "Since its conception, the Hunger Games has served to honour the memory of those who perished in the uprising against our nation's Capitol. In addition to the traditional games that have been held for seventy-four consecutive years, we acknowledge and mark the quarterly anniversary of the uprising with the Quarter Quell."

They listen intently as Snow continues highlighting the significance of the previous quarter quells. "On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to any remaining rebels that their choice to incite violence on the Capitol, each district was made to cast votes to elect the tributes sent to represent them."

Clio and Cato glance out of the bay window in the row of occupied houses of Victor's Village. Several of District Two's tributes had emerged victorious prior to the twenty-fifth year. They would have not only been forced to watch this announcement but to vote on that decision. Not that this would have particularly impacted districts One or Two; their training programmes had been active by then. Granted, they wouldn't have been as sophisticated as in recent years but they existed nonetheless. Clio imagines that the decisions would have been much worse for Panem's poorer districts. She's never directly inquired about the how tributes sent in to the first Quarter Quell were decided amongst the career districts but with the training academies already established she's almost certain that the strongest in their class were picked as usual. And with the win secured by a man from Two, one if the oldest mentors in the Academy, she knows she probably should get round to asking him.

The two revert their attention to the screen as Snow carries on addressing the nation. "On the fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died per Capitol death, the districts were required to send twice as many tributes into the games."

Clio can remember the tales she was told about the punishment dealt to the districts for the uprising. The stories of the picturesque fields that served as a battlefield for forty-eight teenagers in the fiftieth year; every inch of the arena as deadly as it was poisonous. The accounts of dishonour explained by the academy's trainers; immense career bloodshed at the expense of their district partners, the tributes treated as disgraces to their District for killing your district partner is the second most important rule in the Academy.

"Now, time to honour our third Quarter Quell."

The camera zooms out, a young boy clad in white stepping forward to offer the wooden box containing the single envelope which holds this quell's rules. President Snow removes the envelope from the box, allowing the boy to slice the red wax seal on the envelope with a solid gold letter opener.

There is silence in both the Capitol, and likely in most households in Panem. The nation holds its breath as they await the fate that befalls their children. The president's eyes scan the paper whilst the letter is opened, as he continues his speech.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the capitol." He pauses for dramatic effect, looking directly into the camera, "On this, the third quarter quell game, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district."

Clio's mouth drops open. It takes a few minutes for the words to sink in and for her to realise the gravity of the situation. Existing pool of victors means there's a chance she has to go back in that arena. Victors means there will be no volunteers this time. "When I said I'd do it again, I didn't mean like this." She whispers to herself.

She knows she has about a one in five chance of returning into an arena. District Two has five female victors. Twenty percent, she thinks. The more she lets herself dwell on her chances, the more rage she feels building up inside of her. Pushing herself to stand, she reaches towards the vase filled with white roses sitting on the glass coffee table in the centre of her living room, she launches it at the wall with much more force than necessary. The coffee table doesn't last much longer either; the item nearest to Cato is driven through the glass table top, shattering it all over the floor as he rises to his feet.

She can hear doors being flung open all throughout Victor's Village, and the sound of chatter outside grows louder as the victors file out into the cul-de-sac; migrating towards the dark, wrought iron gates at the bottom of their little village. Each of the victors have left their pure-white painted mansions by now, except the two latest victors who remain at a stand-still as they look at each other.

Forcing herself to calm her breathing, she takes a gulp from her crystal glass and finds herself moving towards the door. As soon as the couple emerge from the mansion, a series of small shuffling sounds can be heard as the other victors swarm around the two. Clio surveys them all and her stomach drops as clarity gives her a sinking feeling. She's suddenly so aware of why Snow decided on having victors re-represent the Districts; and who he's going to have represent District Two.

"I don't want anyone volunteering for me." She calmly expresses, silencing the pack of victors nearby as she swallows. She's lying though. If anyone were to volunteer for her she wouldn't be opposed to it but she knows she has an image to maintain, a deadly reputation to upkeep.

"There's no way to say it will be you Clio." Brutus replies restlessly.

"There's loads of us to pick from." Lyme backs him up.

Clio sighs as she looks between the others, "They're going to want to make this year's games especially exciting." She pauses for a second, glancing at the mountains that loom over the district as she thinks about what the Capitol is trying to make happen this year. "They're eliminating all the rebels even if you aren't one. The only way to do that is to choose victors with a bond. Regardless of who goes in, we all know each other."

She watches as realisation registers in the faces of the crowd; how Brutus' brows furrow; how Enobaria's jaw clenches and how Cato's fingers intertwine with hers again. He doesn't vocalise his opinions on anyone volunteering in his place, and Clio finds her anger rising again at the thought of them having to compete together. They'd spent their entire lives building up to entering the Games together, learning each other's strengths and weaknesses from the age of eleven in preparation to kill each other to return back home; spared only by Enobaria coining them as the best tributes she'd mentored in years and convincing the others that it would be a waste of a victor to send the two of them in together. She's reminded of how she felt in the victors with a bond. Regardless of who goes in, we all know each other."

──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────

Part Two. Series masterlist.

#my writing #twobraincellkentwell #char writes shit #cato hadley #cato #cato x oc #cato hadley x oc #finnick odair #finnick x oc #cato fanfic #enobaria #brutus #district two #cato hunger games #hunger games #hunger games catching fire #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfic #catching fire fanfic #75th hunger games #quarter quell #the hunger games catching fire

[attllhak]

Adoption AU - Sky and Time: The Story of The Family’s Most Unlikely Arrest

@tortilla-of-courage @ghostdragonace hey look I actually have a tag list now!

Also, most of the fics in the Adoption AU don’t have really long titles like this, but this is also not the longest I’ve titled these fics. There is one with a longer title sitting in my docs.

Regardless, here’s the one where Sky got arrested that was supposed to be fun until Sky and Time decided that feelings were getting involved. So now feelings are talked about, kinda. This is also the second of those intro fics that will probably never have more added. Enjoy!

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

Time sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. He set the phone down and sat back in his chair, not eager for this in the slightest.

“Who was it, dear?” Malon called around the corner, still busy getting Wild to stay sitting so he didn’t injure his ankle further.

Time sighed again, opening his good eye to the ceiling and asking Hylia why he ever chose to take in so many kids.

“Captain Viscen,” he replied, more tired than he was before answering the phone. “I need to head down and pick up one of the boys,”

Malon tutted, giving up on Wild now that Four had shown up and sat on him. “Which one? Twilight hasn’t gotten caught racing again has he? Or do we need to pull out the first aid kit because Warriors got in a fight? It isn’t Legend, is it?”

Time shut his eye and laughed. “The fact you have each boy and their cause of arrest memorized worries me about our parenting ability,”

Malon scoffed at him and wacked his arm lightly. “Oh just let me know if I need to prepare for when you get back because one of our boys is bleeding,”

Time chuckled again, standing up to stretch. “No, no one’s hurt, but I don’t think a lecture is necessary either,”

“Oh?”

Time hummed, dropping a kiss to his wife’s head on his way past her. “Apparently I’m picking up Sky,”

“Sky?” The look Malon gave him was clear confusion.

Time shrugged, grabbing keys and heading out the front door. “I’ll ask when I pick him up, but I suppose we’ll just see then,”

Malon shook her head. “Just get back safe,”

“Of course,” Time smiled back at her, then shot a look at the boys on the couch. Wild gulped and Four snorted.

About twenty minutes later, Time was pulling his old pickup into the police station parking lot. It was a situation he found himself in a lot. With a sigh he stuffed the keys into a pocket and made his way inside. Better now than later.

When he walked in he was greeted with Sky’s loud friend, Goose?, loudly recounting the adventure that led to the arrest to his parents, who had also been called and were less thrilled than their son. Sky was sitting nearby, head down and shoulders hunched, trying to make himself as small as possible, and doing a fairly good job of it.

He was approached by the captain as he entered. “Link! Thank you for coming down,”

“Captain Viscen,” Time smiled and accepted the handshake. “Of course, I’m just curious as to why I’m here. Sky’s not exactly a troublemaker,”

“Oh he’s not,” Viscen agreed. “But his friend most certainly is. We caught him painting one of the walls of a bar in town, fled when we showed up. We wouldn’t have even bothered with your kid, he was clearly trying to talk his friend out of it, but he ran too,”

Time sighed, well aware of how Sky had a tendency to just accept other’s snap judgements over his own when panicked.

“Thank you, Viscen. I can just take him home then?”

“Yup, he’s all yours,” Viscen waved at the boy, who shrunk into himself further.

Time nodded and moved past the captain, stopping once he was standing in front of Sky. The boy shrunk down, his ears tinged red in what was likely shame. There were flecks of red paint on the shoulder of his shirt, which was far less than the splatters on his friend. He was white knuckled with his grip on his pants.

Time sighed heavily and Sky flinched. “Sky,”

There was a long pause as Sky pulled his head up to look at Time. “Hi dad,” his voice was small, and Time could easily see guilt in his expression.

Time sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Come on, let’s go home,” he reached out a hand to his guilt-ridden son.

Sky took it and stood, gluing himself to Time’s side as he tried to stay as small as possible. Time rolled his eye and wrapped his arm around Sky’s shoulders, leading him out.

“Excuse me, sir,” Time paused, turning around briefly to address the man flagging him down. Sky’s friend’s dad had broke away from his wife to approach them.

Time would admit he didn’t know the man or his wife very well, Sky was a newer addition to their apparently ever growing family and he and Malon hadn’t had time to meet all of his friends or their parents yet. This wasn’t an ideal time, but he wasn’t about to come off as unfriendly.

“Yes?” He raised a brow as the man approached. Sky shrunk further into his side.

“You’re Link’s father, correct?” The man glanced from Sky to Time. “The one who took him in after,” he trailed off.

“That’s correct,” Time nodded, not one to dwell on the reasons his boys had come to him either, especially the less fortunate members of their family.

The man cleared his throat then, shaking off whatever it was. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Zulos, Groose’s father. My wife, Esha, and I have been meaning to get in contact with you for a while now,”

“Oh?” Time accepted the man’s hand, grateful that he offered his left, though that might be because Time’s right was occupied holding Sky. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Malon and I have been looking at meeting up with some of the rest of his friends’ parents as well, we just haven’t had the time,”

“Keeping you busy, eh?” Zulos laughed.

Time chuckled himself, shaking his head. “Actually, he’s one of the calmer boys. It’s his brothers that we’re running all over town trying to keep track of,”

Zulos raised his eyebrows, looking Time over. “Brothers, eh? How many you got?”

“Six right now, but that’s likely to increase as well,” Time smiled patiently, rubbing Sky’s arm, which didn’t seem to help. “Sky’s our most recent addition,”

“Sky?” Zulos seemed confused by that.

“Oh, right,” Time laughed, waving him off. “My mistake, I forgot you might not know. My name is Link, as is, amusingly, all of our boys. I didn’t plan that, so you know,”

“Ah,” Zulos laughed. “I see! Well, we’d love to chat at some point better than here,” a glance back at his son who had only gotten louder as his mother tried to quiet him. “I don’t suppose I could get your number?”

“Of course,” Time pulled out his phone, rattling off the number as Zulos plugged it into his own phone, then added the number Zulos gave him to his own.

“We’ll be in touch,” Zulos waved, walking back to rescue his wife.

Time waved, then steered Sky out of the building and back to the truck.

Sky was silent as Time climbed in and pulled out of the lot, keeping his eyes on his hands in his lap. Time let the silence sit for the first half of the drive, willing to give Sky time to start talking on his own. When it seemed clear Sky was waiting for the same thing, Time sighed and took the initiative to break the silence. 

“Sky,” he paused, not sure how to go about this. Sky wasn’t in trouble, so he couldn’t approach it the way he did the other boys.

“I’m sorry,” Sky said, eyes down. Time glanced at him and saw the boy hunched up again, ears drooped and voice small. “I didn’t mean to get in trouble, I swear. Groose just heard that Legend and Ravio did murals sometimes and wanted to do one too. I tried to talk him out of it, but then the cops showed up and,” Sky paused in his mini rant, voice wobbling now.

Time cast his eyes over the boy, who so clearly felt awful about this and was beating himself up over it. Time sighed. “Sky, that’s not,” he paused again to collect his thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” Sky said again, now a shaky whisper. “I really wasn’t trying to get in trouble, and I didn’t mean to bother you to have to come get me, and I,” and that was the sound of tears.

Time sighed, pulling the truck over in order to deal with this without his attention drawn away from the boy in question. He knew Sky felt bad about getting caught, but tears weren’t something he thought would pop up. None of the other boys ever cried after getting caught and having Time collect them.

Sky was sniffling, and trying very hard to prevent himself from crying. Pulling over seemed to have made it worse, the boy curling in on himself a little and starting to shake.

“Sky,” Time tried for his gentlest voice, aware of how fragile Sky was right now. “Can you look at me, please?”

Sky shakily raised his head to look at Time. He was biting his lip, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I swear I’m not usually this much of an issue, I, we just,” Sky broke eye contact, looking away but not moving his head.

Time reached out and gently wiped away one of the tears that had broken free, fully aware of how Sky flinched away. “Sky, what is this about? It can’t be the arrest, so what’s got you so upset?”

Sky darted his eyes back to Time, anxiety or fear swimming around in the light blue. “I’m sorry, I just,” he paused to swallow, dropping his head down to his lap again. “You won’t send me back, will you?”

Time pondered that for a moment, then felt like he was hit with a sledgehammer. Sky was worried about getting sent back into the system again. There were a few heartbeats where Time felt furious at everyone who had ever said or done something like that to this wonderful boy to make him so scared of that. He quashed it down quickly, however. Anger, even righteous anger on Sky’s behalf, wouldn’t help here.

“Sky, we’re not sending you back,” Time put all the conviction he could into his voice, and his heart broke when Sky looked up at him again, eyes suddenly showing hope.

“You’re not?”

“No, of course not,” he reached out one hand to set on Sky shoulder. “We would never do that to you,”

“Even,” Sky’s voice wobbled again, and a hard set of blinks sent a pair of tears running down his face. “Even though I got arrested?”

Time had to remind himself that Sky hadn’t been around long enough to have seen his brothers get picked up. “Sky, this is not the first time I’ve had to pick up one of my boys from the police station. Twilight and Warriors both end up there every few months, and Legend only doesn't end up there more often because he’s gotten good at not getting caught. And besides, you’re not even in trouble,”

“I’m not?” Sky sniffed again, confused.

“No, of course not,” Time reached over with his free hand to wipe away a few more stray tears. “You didn’t do anything wrong except end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. You’re not going to get in trouble for trying to keep your friend out of trouble,”

Sky looked down again, grappling with this information.

“So, so you’re not mad at me? And, and you won’t send me back?”

Time’s heart broke again when Sky looked back up at him. No kid should ever have to look so broken or grateful to not get kicked out of the house. Especially not someone who was only 15.

“Of course not,” he leaned over the console to pull Sky into his arms. “You’re a part of the family Sky, and we’d never willingly give you up. We’d all fight tooth and nail to keep you around, you never have to worry about that with us. Nothing could make us so upset with you that we’d ever let you go. That I swear to you,”

It took a second, but he eventually felt Sky grab his shirt, and seconds later he could feel the shaking that came with crying. Time held Sky close, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from the uncomfortable angle and whispering a few soothing words and reassurances to his newest son. He made a note to call his lawyer when he got home to see about speeding up the adoption process for Sky. Getting that piece of paper might help set the boy’s nerves at ease somewhat.

Eventually, Sky calmed down from his bout, leaning back out of the hug to wipe at his eyes and croak out another apology. Time felt another lash of anger for this boy, who was so sweet and kind, and all of the awful things he must have lived through in the year since his parents died.

But anger wouldn’t help here, so he pushed it aside to deal with later, when he had Malon to rant to.

“Better?” Time asked, eye running over Sky’s face.

Sky nodded, eyes red and face flushed. “Sorry about that, I just,”

“Hey, no,” Time reached out to pull Sky’s face back to look at him. “You never have to apologize for being scared. Not to us,”

He held Sky’s gaze until he nodded, then leaned back.

“Can we go home now?” Sky asked, looking more tired than Time had ever seen him.

Time nodded, then glanced at the building he’d pulled over in front of. He jabbed his thumb at it. “Would you like some ice cream first? You can say no,”

Sky looked up, glancing between Time and the shop, then nodded. Time smiled, climbing out of the car with Sky following.

(---)

Time opened the door to let Sky in past him, then made a sharp motion at Malon warning her not to ask about what happened. Malon raised one eyebrow, but thankfully said nothing.

“Hey Sky!” Wild waved a hand to get his brother’s attention. “Can you hand me the remote? I don’t think I can take another hour of the documentary channel,”

“What’s wrong with the documentary channel?” Four squawked in offense.

“It’s boring,” Wild shot back.

“It is not boring!”

An argument broke out, and Time sighed heavily. He’d used up his emotional reserves already, and what was left was set aside for an angry rant at Malon later.

“I like the documentary channel,” Sky offered.

Wild squawked and Four cheered. Sky quickly looked like he regretted throwing his hat in the ring as he was pulled into the argument.

Malon wandered up to take his arm, smiling at him. “Everything went well?”

“I need to call our lawyer,” Time said. “The sooner we get that piece of paper saying he’s ours, the better,”

Malon gave him a curious look, but didn’t press. She’d hear it all later anyways. For now, Time was content to watch his sons bicker and argue like the kids they were.

That was a blessing well worth the pain that led them here.

#linked universe #lu #lu time #lu sky #adoption au #malon #lu wild #lu four #in honour of sky week have some sky content #also captain viscen is not an oc #he's one of the guards for clock town in majora's mask #it took me so long to find a soldier/guard with a name in loz #anyways have another thing i wrote in september last year #oh! and in reference to the person who asked in the last adoption au fic #yes lullaby/sheik is genderfluid in this au #so is wild #anyways hope you all enjoy!

[tragedykery]

mailee fic recs

in honour of mailee week coming up here are some canon universe mailee fic recs!!

freeze these warm bones by OceanMyth

Ty Lee reflects upon the scars left by Boiling Rock, and tries to make sense of the broken pieces of life that lead her to Kyoshi Island.

Will You Be My Cherry? by svgasuga

[Mai had always been taught to hold her head up high, to not speak unless spoken to, and to grab as little attention to herself as possible. Her life was about elevating her father’s status, after all.]

A character study of Mai, featuring Ty Lee. Inspired by Cherry by Rina Sawayama.

the cold wind blows and you fix my scattering hair by sirensokka

ty lee wants help with her braid and mai is happy to oblige.

teach myself how to die by sinkburrito

They have a quiet understanding. There is no love in the Fire Nation, not in Azula’s city, and certainly not between two girls. They are not in love, because love does not exist here, and even if it did, there would be no talking of it. Instead, they have a wordless bond, one that manifests in the way that Ty Lee can read Mai like a book and how Mai always knows when Ty Lee is upset. Azula’s blue fire scorches everything that could burn brighter than itself, so Mai and Ty Lee very deliberately do not burn. And if they did, they would hide that little light, hide it from the wind and the fire and the horrible storm that rages around them. But they don’t, and they aren’t, so it doesn’t matter.

(a look at mai and ty lee and how they got to the boiling rock)

Star Gazing by hazzarat

“There,” She points with their hands, “That group there, about seven of them, they look like a koi fish.”

Ty Lee hums, tilting her head to nestle comfortably against Mai’s shoulder to see from the same angle. Her brown hair is soft against her cheek and smells like jasmine.

“I see it!” She grins again but this time tucks her smile against Mai’s neck. Her breath is warm enough to stave off the night chill.

-

Whilst hunting for the Avatar with Azula, Mai and Ty Lee find solace on the cold, clear-skyed nights.

Moon Beams by hazzarat

The moon is high in the sky, it’s light illuminating her face and glinting off of the surface.

The sight before her fills Mai’s chest with a longing she’s felt since they left their starlit camp.

“Do you remember the night we sat under the stars?” Mai asks, her hand tightening around the bar.

“I do.”

“You told me you’d fallen in love with me.”

the rosyfingered moon (and you and i) by ariya167

They don’t talk.

What is there to talk about? Together in this cell, Mai thinks, too many words would fill the air until they choked.

leave tonight or live and die this way by kyoshi_lesbians

There had been no fights, no raised voices or slammed doors. No vicious words exchanged through clenched teeth and teary eyes - none of the usual dramatics that come with these sorts of stories.

The first time Ty Lee ran away, it started with a simple question: would anyone notice if she was gone?

Or, two times Ty Lee says goodbye to the person she misses the most.

maybe this is how i first met you by sirensokka

it's always been mai and ty lee against the world, and prison is no different.

(featuring homoerotic chi blocking, the mortifying ordeal of being known, and kisses.)

paint your colors (on me) for all the world see by OceanMyth

Ty Lee does Mai's face-paint for their Kyoshi Warrior disguise. Things have changed since they were both little girls, sneaking off to do makeup in the school bathrooms.

The World Falls Away For You by ayyna

From the minute she was born, Mai had only to accept the simple truth that love was there, whether she felt it or not. Sentiments such as 'I love you' were unnecessary. Her mother loved her with the teeth of a comb, gliding through Mai’s damp hair as she hummed an unattainable lullabye. No words, just the vibration of a tired voice and rhythmic motion. As a younger child, Mai found comfort in sinking down into her mother’s contentment, wrapped tight in that simple gesture, suffering through harsher tugs and tangles for the feeling of care. Her father loved her with material grants, ready and willing to purchase whatever she so desired, from delicate confectionery treats to finely crafted hairpins and pearl-lined combs. And the love that they shared, the small bond that tied the two to Mai ineffably, came in the ways they pushed her towards a future she couldn’t even begin to grasp, one hand on either shoulder.

Or: A trip through (and before) canon from the switching perspectives of Mai and Ty Lee

I loved you more by spacemagic

‘Why?’

The question had almost been a whisper.

‘Why what?’

‘Why’d you do it?’

The scene flashed into her head again, four short-sharp taps, Azula flailing with her eyes wide in surprise that the pretty little acrobat had even thought of how to disobey. She placed her back against Mai’s. The implicit meaning: I trust you.

In prison, Mai asks Ty Lee why she came to her aid.

nobody said it was easy by rosegoldblood

ty lee betrayed azula, and mai wants to know why.

cuz i can't help falling in love with you by overcomewithlongingfora_girl

When Mai is thirteen, and Azula twelve, Ty Lee moves to town. She and her identical set of sisters stride into the Academy looking like a matched set, and Ty Lee’s wearing pink ribbons instead of regulation red, and Mai’s just. Gone.

It’s a feeling like falling. It’s a feeling like her stomach dropping out. That bright grinning face and her giggly laugh and the way Mai just always feels like smiling when Ty Lee is around. It’s so completely unlike her, so new and so welcome and so spirits-damned dangerous.

of all the stars, the fairest by GallifreyanFairytale

Mai might not mind her mom’s denial of her sexuality if not for the endless stream of blind dates she’s sent Mai on in the hopes of “proving” Mai likes men. The good news, though, is that Ty Lee has an idea that might just get Mai’s mom off her back.

The bad news is that Mai is quickly beginning to realize she’s developing very real feelings for her very fake girlfriend.

And as this fake relationship ploy continues, Mai finds herself falling harder and harder for her best friend - her best friend who almost certainly doesn’t feel the same. But how is she supposed to talk to anyone about her dilemma when no one knows the relationship is fake in the first place? Should she confess her feelings in the desperate hope that Ty Lee might not hate her, or should she just end things before she can call this feeling fizzling within her love?

we can navigate the stars to bring us back home by thatwasanticlimactic

five times Mai and Ty Lee played pretend and one time they played for real

she's everything (to me) by capt_snoozles

based on dodie clarks 'she'

'Cause I could never set you free by aureshadow

And suddenly Ty Lee was clinging to her and Mai held her as her sobs slowly subsisted. Mother wouldn’t like this, Mai thought. At least for this moment, Ty Lee has fallen out of favor. The smart thing would be to side with the Princess, to take advantage of my competitor’s misfortune and help the Princess against her.

(Mai was eight.)

-

Princess Azula chooses Mai and Ty Lee as her friends when they're six. They're not supposed to like each other - they're supposed to compete. Mai's family is new money, and competes with Ty Lee's family for the Fire Lord's favor. Ty Lee's father distrusts Mai's father, descended from the Saowon clan which fell from grace many years ago.

#ty lee #atla mai #mailee #fic recs #fics #fic #figured I should just post this since it’s been gathering dust in my drafts lmao #r #maileeposting

[maybege]

Tinder Saves The Day

Summary: After thinking you lost your chance with the unnaturally good looking firefighter, a certain dating app comes to save the day.

Pairing: firefighter!Paz Vizsla x fem!kindergarten teacher!Reader

Wordcount: 6.8k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, thigh riding, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, spanking (1 slap to the ass), pet names (good girl), alcohol consumption (no one is drunk)

This is so exciting! Not only is this a part of this week’s birthday bash/AU Week, it is also of the Tinder Event from The Council of Thots. I am so honoured to have worked with the amazing and ever-talented Tailor @anxiety-riddled-mando on this piece and I cannot thank her enough – it was super fun! You can find the visual to the story here.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“Okay everyone, so remember to hold your street buddies’ hand okay?” you called, making the last count as your kindergarteners got ready to step outside. With the sun shining brightly in the light blue sky, you had decided to make the trip to the local fire station a little walk for the toddlers to enjoy.

Of course, you had to take into account the but even at the slower tempo, it took you 15 minutes to get there. You were greeted by a large man, spotting dark hair and a bit of stubble and some very muscular arms you noted as you shook his hand.

“You must be here for the tour,” he smiled, “I am Paz Vizsla, we spoke on the phone?”

“Oh yes,” you nodded, forcing yourself to meet his gaze even though it made you feel all kinds of flushed, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Vizsla.”

“Call me Paz, please,” he replied, still holding on to your hand and you smiled. His eyes were dark too, you noted, and you hoped you did not imagine the way his eyes roamed over your entire body for a moment, resting on the neckline of your sundress before snapping up to yours.

“Uh, should we start?” he asked, slowly pulling his hand away from yours so slowly it felt more like a caress than anything else.

“Sure,” you smiled breathlessly, clearing your throat to gain back a bit (or all) of that professionalism you had lost in the last few moments, “Why don’t you lead the way? I will step back and keep the kids in check.”

Not even five minutes later you had made three observations: (1) Paz Vizsla was a five-star kid magnet. (2) He loved working with kids. (3) You were still very much culpable to the image of a big hunk of a man helping little children up to see inside the fire truck.

Your little group of four-year-olds was completely enraptured by the big man in front of them and you were proud to see just how well-behaved excited they were – even with their excitement clearly showing on their faces. But they all patiently waited their turn to get up the little step ladder with Paz’s help so they could look inside the open fire truck, oohing and ahhing at everything and anything.

But the true highlight of the day was when Paz got out a big box filled with miniature firefighter gear for them to try on. You swore you had never seen them so happy as when little Grogu Djarin dragged a too big firefighter cat behind him, the helmet a little too big so he had to hold it up with one hand so he could where he was going.

There was nothing sweeter than seeing 10 little toddlers proudly showing off their firefighter costumes to you.

“All right, everyone!” Paz announced and you watched in amusement as all the little ones immediately quieted down, hanging onto every word that came out of his mouth, “If we go out on the grass now, I’ve got a little surprise for you. What do you say to being a firefighter for a day?”

Cheers erupted – impressively loud for such small humans – and Paz laughed, your eyes following his hand on his chest.

Outside, there was a little wooden cut out of a house put up, little red flames drawn on the windows. And a few feet away was a little table laden with colourful water guns and a bucket full of water balloons.

There was no need to say anything more as the kids basically jumped at the chance to live out their dream. Little hands grabbed the balloons and water guns, attacking the imaginary fire on a house with a joy and ferocity that made you smile.

You stood by the tree, keeping an eye on your kids while also trying to say out of the spray of the water. Paz was all hands-on, helping them re-fill the water guns and water balloons and also reminded them to stay behind the line so they didn’t accidentally hit their friends.

It did not take long until he was completely drenched from his quick work with the water and you caught yourself more than once simply staring at the tattoos on his arms or the way his muscles moved when he lifted the hem of his shirt to dry his face.

Stars, he looked good.

When the kids were pretty much happy by themselves, he looked up, meeting your gaze and you found yourself straightening up from where you had been leaning against the tree bark, pushing back your shoulders. He smiled, making his way over to you while pulling his shirt off, revealing a lot of skin and muscles and just … broadness.

Paz Vizsla was broad. In a very very good way.

“This is a wonderful thing for the kids,” you brought out with a smile, hoping that he did not notice how out of breath you were, “Thank you so much. This is such a lovely idea.”

“Anytime,” he grinned, coming to stand in front of you, his shirt a crumpled mess in his hands, “It’s so great to see you – themenjoy it.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, biting your lips as you tried to not completely embarrass yourself. How could you focus when there was this half-naked Adonis right in front of you? “It really is.”

“So, uh, your partner must be really lucky,” he stated, rubbing the back of his neck, “I mean, uh, you know with –“

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you assured him – maybe way too quickly and eager, “I’m – I’m single.”

“You don’t?” he echoed, eyes going wide for a moment and you swore there was a smile on his lips, “That’s, uh that’s great. Maybe we could –“

Something beeped at his hip quite urgently and you watched how his happy face morphed into a serious frown.

He held up the little device. “That’s an alert,” he told you, already jogging towards the station, “I am so sorry but I need to leave, can you – “ he motioned to your group of students that were still playing on the grass a little ways away.

“Sure,” you nodded quickly, “Thank you for the tour!”

“Anytime!” he called, throwing you a smile before turning around and putting on his gear. His colleagues were moving at record speed and before you knew what was happening they were racing away, blue lights and sirens loudly announcing their departure.

The children had gone quiet, watching completely enraptured as the fire truck drove away. You sighed, your heart clenching a little when you realized this was probably the last time you would see Paz Vizsla.

“Okay everybody,” you called, “Let’s prepare to go back to school, okay? Remember your street buddies and let’s go!”

*

“I don’t understand how you could not ask him for his number!”

“I couldn’t, okay?! I couldn’t go and say ‘Sorry I know you’re trying to save people’s lives but is it okay if I give you my number real quick?’ That would be – I can’t do that!”

Your friend sighed, clearly as frustrated with the situation as you were.

It was wine and dine night and this time it had been Lanie’s turn to host which you were very grateful for. Her place wasn’t too far away from the school which meant that once the clock hit 5 you were on your way to her.

That and the fact that she had the best take out places deliver to her doorstep were the main reasons you were especially grateful for her being the host tonight. It had not even taken three minutes in her hallway until she had asked you about what was wrong and in record speed you had told her about your trip to the fire station.

Which, now that you were sprawled on her couch with a glass of wine in your hand, made you feel worse and worse. Wine and dine had quickly turned into whine and dine.

“You should have seen him with the kids,” you mumbled, “He was so patient with them and so happy to help and – and –“

“And he looks incredibly hot when shirtless?” Lanie offered and you nodded.

“Yes,” you sighed wistfully, “He looks really good when shirtless. Did I mention his tattoos?”

“Only five bazillion times,” she grinned, snacking on a breadstick, “So if it is so impossibly to meet Mr Perfectly Chiselled Chest again why don’t you distract yourself?”

You groaned, reaching for the breadsticks, and already knowing just what your friend was playing at.

“Oh c’mon, it’ll be fun!” she tried to convince you, “Who knows, maybe we can find you a nice firefighter as a replacement?”

“Lanie, Tinder is much more fun for you to watch me do than for me to actually do it,” you reminded her, taking a bite, “Besides, I don’t think I will find anyone like him on there.”

You did not think you would find anyone like him anywhere.

But Lanie, ever the optimist, would not be deterred and fished your phone from her coffee table. “You really should think of a new passcode,” she reminded you as she unlocked your phone and opened the familiar pink app.

You sighed, letting her do her thing as she swiped through the masses. You couldn’t really blame her, it really did have something of a video game where you tried to get to the next level. And besides, it was fun to watch the profiles from the corner of your eyes.

Until a certain firefighter popped up on her (your?) feed.

“Oh, my stars,” you brought out, eyes bulging as you sat up so quickly you almost got dizzy.

“Kriff, yeah sorry, I shouldn’t have,” Lanie admitted, her finger hovering over the red button, “I’ll just –“

“No!” you shouted, ripping the phone from her with a squeak, “No!”

“What the hell?”

“That’s him!” you squeaked, making sure Paz’s profile was still very much on the screen, turning it to her, “That’s him!”

It took her a moment until Lanie’s face was full of realization, “Oh kriff,” she cursed, “That’s him him, you mean? Firefighter him?”

You nodded, looking through his profile. The first picture was him from the back, shirtless and wearing his work pants. He looked … he looked so good. There were the same tattoos on his skin you had admired just a few hours earlier and there was that helmet and stars he was posing for the camera and it just looked. So. Kriffing. Good.

“What do I do?” you mumbled helplessly, cradling the phone in your hands, “Oh stars, what do I do?!”

“What do you mean what do you do?” Lanie looked at you in disbelief, “You swipe right of course! This is a sign from the universe, don’t you see?”

“But what if he doesn’t like … me,” you tried to protest, the all-familiar anxiety creeping up yet again, “What if-?”

“You better swipe right right now or else even the stars won’t save you from my wrath,” Lanie exclaimed, “

“Okay,” you winced, swiping right and closing your eyes as if that would keep you from the feeling of rejection when it did not turn out to be –

A ring interrupted you and you opened your eyes, hardly believing what you saw.

It’s a match!

*

Fifteen minutes later you were standing in front of Paz Vizsla’s apartment, shifting from foot to foot as you waited for him to open his door.

You had hardly believed your luck when it was a match and then he had texted you and with the help of Lanie’s expert advice, you had been your flirtiest and most extroverted self.

And now you were here.

You watched as the door swung open and there, in all his glory, was Paz Vizsla, dressed in nothing but grey sweat pants. Who could blame you if you had to stare at his naked chest like he was a tall glass of water in the desert heat?

“Hi,” he smiled, his lips tugging up at the side, “Do – Do you want to come in?”

“Yeah thanks,” you mumbled, slipping under his arm as he held the door open for you.

His apartment was exactly and nothing at all like you had imagined it. The walls were painted dark blue but instead of making you feel caged in, the bold colour made everything feel cosy and welcoming. Like a warm cave.

“So, um, are you sure you want this?” he asked, burying his hands in the pockets of his pants, “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you here,” he licked his lips and you shuddered when you saw how his eyes roamed over your figure, “I just want to make sure you are comfortable with this.”

“Okay, so I had two glasses of Hugo at most,” you stated, holding up two fingers, much to his amusement, “And while I might be a little tipsy I certainly wasn’t this morning when all I could think about was … was…”

“Was what?” he asked, his voice a little deeper and he stepped forward, both of you sharing the space in the doorframe that seemed far too tight but stars you did not want him away from you, “What was all you could think about?”

You swallowed harshly, finding that your courage from moments ago had dissipated now that you were presented with his very perfect and very naked chest. Holy moly you wanted to trace your tongue all over him.

“C’mon,” he coaxed you, his lips brushing over your cheekbone, “Tell me what filthy little scenarios your head cooked up and I can make them come true.”

Tilting your head, you looked up at him, the tips of your noses brushing against each other and he was so close, so big, and so warm. His breath washed over your face and you shivered, feeling him so close, and his hands landed on your hips, thumbs brushing over the fabric of your dress.

“I want to ride your thigh please,” you admitted shyly, your cheeks burning hot you could even feel it in your ears. You could hardly meet his eyes but Paz made a sound low in his throat that made you look at him nonetheless.

“What a lovely idea,” he growled, his hands smoothing over the side of your body, brushing your tits before cupping your face. You gasped. “There is just one thing I want to do first.”

His lips brushed against yours ever so slightly, testing the waters, and you whimpered when he pulled away again. That was barely a kiss!

Paz chuckled, his eyes crinkling so beautifully it made your heart ache and then he pulled you against him again, his mouth opening against yours and you saw stars. Your hands found their place on his broad (sigh) shoulders as you tried to get even closer to him.

His stubble tickled your chin and you gasped when his tongue dipped inside your mouth, his hands wandering down to grope your ass. “I think we could move to the couch.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, feeling the wetness collect between your legs as you followed him to the plush looking dark grey monster in his living room. It was so massive even Paz looked like an average-sized person on it.

He sat down first, spreading his legs and your eyes darted to the prominent bulge that looked even better than you had imagined. You watched as his hand cupped said bulge, lightly stroking himself and your mouth went dry, your eyes glued to the sight in front of you.

“Why don’t you join me?” he suggested, a twinkle in his eyes, and you swore if you did not melt into a puddle right there and then.

You put your hands on his shoulders, straddling his large thigh and before you could sigh that the contact on your core, Paz had cupped your face and dragged you even closer so he could kiss you again.

Your hips started moving on their own, your pussy rubbing along his thigh and the tingles it caused ran through your entire body, making you all the more sensitive everywhere he touched you. Your nipples were pebbled

“There we go,” he murmured, his lips pressed against your temple and you whined, trying to move quicker against him, trying to feel more of that heat in your core and more of his body against yours.

“Patience,” Paz nipped at your bottom lip, his hand squeezing your butt and pressing your hips down against his enormous thigh.

“Fuck patience,” you gasped, your entire body thrumming with lust as he manoeuvred you so your clit was at the centre of the friction and stars di you love him for it. Now if he would only let you speed things up.

“I’d rather fuck you,” he replied cheekily and you snorted. You should have seen that coming. His big hands wandered up your legs, taking the hem of your sundress with him. You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, goosebumps rising on your arms and you felt yourself shudder when your clit rubbed against the rough fabric of his sweats.

“Lift your arms for me, love,” he whispered, pulling the fabric over your chest and you did, your hips coming to a standstill against his thigh. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your hearing muffled for the brief second that Paz lifted the dress over your head and then you were back in business. Almost immediately he dove back forward, pressing his lips against yours and you wrapped your arms around him.

“Fuck you’re pretty,” he mumbled against you, his tongue running over the seam of your lips and you opened your mouth for him again, using your leverage on his shoulder to work your hips. Everything felt like lava and Paz’s mouth on your neck and collarbone did not do anything to smother it. You were just free falling at this point, feeling the knot in your core tightening again and again

“Are you close?” Paz asked you, “Stars, please tell me you’re close, want to feel you soak my thigh, love, want to see how pretty you look when you come for me.”

You would do anything he said if he just said that in a voice like that.

Unable to answer him, your muscles tensing from the pleasure, you grabbed his face between your hands and pulled him in for a kiss. It was urgent and hard and heavy and you could feel Paz felt the same way with how he was biting your bottom lip, his hands kneading the flesh of your ass harshly as he pulled you along his thigh. Thick fingers slipped under the laced ham of your panties, trying to grab as much skin as possible and all it took was that had you coming apart in his arms.

Too busy focusing on the way your walls clamped around nothing, your hips ceased any movement and Paz – bless his soul – let you slump against him in a breathless mess, his lips pressing against your temple. You hummed when his fingers came up to trace invisible lines on your cheeks and you did not have to see him to know that he was smiling too.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, your hand coming up to gently trace his jawline, your fingertips brushing over his stubble, “Very good.”

You looked up at him, watching his smile widen. Clearly, he was very happy with himself and the twinkle in his eyes made you smile too, sitting up a little straighter in his lap. But Paz’s hands were not far behind and before you knew it, his hands were on your waist, keeping you close while he gently bumped his forehead against yours.

“Can – can you fuck me now?” you asked, nudging your nose against his. You grinned when his hips surged up, his hardened cock rubbing against your folds through the layers of fabric still separating you. You grimaced at the feeling of the wet patch in your panties, squirming to somehow get away from the uncomfortable feeling while not losing the delicious pressure of his cock against your folds.

“Here or the bed?” he asked, planting a slow kiss against your collarbone.

“Don’t care,” you replied, hurriedly standing up to slip your panties down your legs, “Just want to feel you.” Paz groaned, his big hand landing on the side of your hips as his eyes appreciatively roamed over your body, lingering on the place between your thighs.

“I knew you’d look pretty but kriff,” his tongue ran over his bottom lip, “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“Your turn,” you grinned, nodding to his grey sweatpants where you could see a darker spot that had definitely come from your ministrations just minutes earlier.

He growled, towering over you in a way that made you clench your thighs and cornered you into the doorway. “I decided,” he said, his hand running from your shoulder down your arm to your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, “We are gonna take the bed.”

“Bed sounds great,” you nodded, feeling the edge of the mattress behind your knees and simply letting yourself fall down, not losing eye contact with the man in front of you.

Facing his giant thighs, an idea sparked in your head. You slipped from the bed, kneeling in front of him and hooking your fingers into the waistband of his sweats. “What are you doing, love?” Paz groaned above you, his hands not doing anything to keep you away.

Your mouth watered when you finally had him bare in front of you, his grey sweat pants a relic of the past in the corner of the bedroom. He was just as big as you had hoped, long and hard and heavy and with a drop of precome pooling at the head that made you clench your thighs.

“I want to take you into my mouth,” you whispered, kissing your way up his thigh before wrapping your hand around his shaft, “I want to spoil you.”

Slowly pumping his shaft, you kissed his base, your tongue darting out to lick along the vein. “You deserve to be spoiled, Paz.” Slowly you opened your mouth, watching how his jaw clenched when you closed your lips around his head, gently sucking.

“Stars,” he cursed, his hips surging forward causing you to gag when his length hit your throat. You did your best to swallow around him, focussing on breathing in through your nose and wanted to

Even kneeling in front of him, completely at his mercy, you were stunned at how self-controlled he was. How, even when he groaned and his hips snapped forward, his hands were cupping your face so gently, making sure to give your enough time and space to pull away whenever you wanted or needed to. And it only made you needier.

You shifted your weight on your knees, determined to make him see stars as your tongue wriggled under his shaft, teasing the vein while you bobbed your head. “Wait, let me,” he pulled away from you, a trail of spit connecting your bottom lip to the head of him and you looked up finding him looking down on you.

His cock twitched. “Pretty as a picture,” he muttered before sitting down on the bed, taking himself in hand and slowly pumping. Your eyes followed his every movement and you shuffled closer, sitting between his knees and

“Now that’s better,” he growled, his hand going to cup your cheek, pulling you towards his cock and you smiled before licking a broad stripe from his base to the head, the salty taste filling your mouth before you pushed forward, taking him as far as you could.

“Stars,” he groaned, throwing his head back and you gagged, his cock hitting the back of your throat, “Just like that, just – just like that.”

You hummed, the vibrations making him moan even louder. One hand came up to cup his balls, feeling them get tighter with every swallow you managed around him. “Kriff,” he cursed above you, his hips moving and pushing his cock even deeper in your throat and your eyes started to tear up while you did your best to suck on him even more, “Shit, I’m so close, I’m – where – kriff!”

Spurts of come landed n your tongue, filling your mouth, and you did your best to swallow it all, working your hand on the part of his cock that you did not manage to keep in your mouth any longer. You looked up, finding him meeting your gaze and you felt even hotter. His eyes were half-lidded, his bare chest heaving in the dim light and he looked at you so hotly, it made you feel like you had just done something scandalously forbidden.

You swallowed around him again, giving kitten licks until you pulled off him completely, swallowing one last time.

“Stars, woman,” he groaned, his fingers tilting up your chin, guiding you up and up until you were standing and then he pulled you down with him. You squeaked, the mattress bouncing beneath your added weight. Paz’s hands were warm and he pulled you close to him until you were facing each other, lying on the cool sheets, completely breathless.

He kissed you softly, his hands rubbing over your shoulder and back and ass, pulling your thigh over his hip.

“Feel good?” you asked teasingly, kissing his jaw.

“Hell yeah,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Never felt better.”

“’m glad,” you mumbled against him, letting your hands run over the tattoos on his arms and chest, “This is – I really like this.”

“Me too,” he rumbled, his hand tightening on the back of your knee and your eyes widened when you felt him twitch against your belly. “Are you – Is that –“

“What can I say,” he whispered, rolling his hips against yours, his lips running over your throat, “I can’t get enough of you.”

You gasped when you felt his teeth on that spot just behind your ear, your tits pressing against his chest, feeling the dusting of chest hair on your nipples. Stars, how desperate could you be for just one man?

“Wanna fuck you from behind, is that okay?” he asked, his chest heaving and all you got out was a nod, your hand closing around his shaft, managing to get in a few pumps before he flipped you around with a growl that made you feel like you were dripping.

His mouth was hot on your shoulder blade and you moaned into the pillow, fisting your hand in the sheets as you rose your hips up to meet him. Paz groaned, his cock rubbing on your ass, his legs spreading yours.

“This was all I could think about,” he breathed into your ear, a light slap on your behind making your jiggle, “You in that damn sundress, fuck, mesh’la, looked so pretty I could have taken you right there.”

“Paz please,” you moaned, doing your best to wriggle your ass against him, feeling him slip between your legs. It was not the most comfortable position – your face smushed in the pillows while you tried to raise your ass as much as possible so you could feel him against you – but stars, was it worth it when you felt his thick fingers circling your entrance, testing the wetness there.

“So wet for me,” he groaned, his thumb slipping your clit while your cheeks flushed with heat at the praise.

“Only for you,” you replied breathlessly, pushing your ass up even more, “Now please…”

“All in good time,” the man behind you rumbled, shuffling closer on the bed. His hands landed on your hips, pressing you down until you were comfortable situated on the mattress, his hips aligning perfectly with yours. You swore you would go crazy, feeling his head rub against your clit until he finally finally–

The stretch was more than you had anticipated and you moaned, lifting your ass towards him to give him more access. Paz slowed down, one hand soft on your lower back, his thumb drawing circles on your skin. “There we go,” he mumbled, slowly pulling out, your wetness coating him, before pushing forward again, just a smidge more than before, “There we fucking go.”

“Paz,” you whimpered, your teeth grazing over your knuckles, “Please …”

“Is it too much?” he asked carefully, keeping only the tip inside you, “I know I’m big, sweetheart, you need to tell me if it’s –“

“More,” you gasped out, rocking back on your knees, trying to push yourself up on your elbows to get more traction, “Please I need more.”

The sound Paz made was otherworldly, sending pricks of pleasure straight to your core. He was big and hot, stretching you to your limit in a way you had never experienced before. There was something perverse about the way your wetness dripped down the sheets but you were too busy rocking back against him to really care.

“More?” he teased you, leaning forward until his chest was aligned with your back, his hips slapping against yours, “You want more of my cock is that it?”

“Stars, fuck, yes,” you whimpered, feeling how his entire weight rested on you, putting more force behind his movements, “Want more of your cock, Paz, please, I want it.”

His chuckle turned into a groan when you clamped around him. The bed was rocking with his thrusts and you felt the pleasure go to your head. Your breath hitched when you felt him hit a spot inside you that quite literally made you see stars.

“Oh, that was the one, wasn’t it?” Paz asked you, his breath out by your ear before he dragged his lips over the back of your neck, “Made your pretty pussy clench around me.”

You tried to nod, the simple fact that he talked about you like that making your walls flutter around him even more. There was this knot in your core, getting tighter and tighter and you could feel yourself on the brink of something amazing.

“I’m so close,” you breathed out, “Please, Paz, I’m so close.”

“Good girl,” Paz panted, his thrusts speeding up and your breath hitched when you felt him hit that spot again and again. Stars, he had really noticed. “Come for me,” he groaned, “C’mon, sweetheart, be good for me and let me feel your drench my cock. Let. Me. Feel. It.”

“Uh-huh”, you nodded quickly, just in time before that knot in you snapped and all you could feel was pleasure as your walls milked him of everything he had to give. You could faintly hear him (“Fucking stars, love, ‘m coming.”) but all you could do was feel the way he filled you up, feel how he rested on you, his lips running gently over your shoulders as you both tried to catch your breath.

*

“Here,” Paz offered you a glass of water, condensation already building on the outside and you smiled, taking it from him.

“Thank you.”

Your body was still thrumming from the aftershocks and seeing Paz dressed only in a pair of briefs did nothing for your poor heart. “They look nice,” you commenting, taking a sip of water while he looked down at his tattoos, “I didn’t really get to appreciate them before.”

“You like ‘em?” he grinned, his muscles flexing.

“Very much so,” you replied, putting the glass on the nightstand as he started to move up the bed, covering your body with his while dropping kisses everywhere he could reach. His big hand cupped your breast his eyes glued to them and you grew restless, not used to some just gazing at you.

“I am very happy I didn’t delete my tinder at lunch,” he revealed, kissing you softly, his hand framing your cheek, “To think I could have missed this.”

“You wanted to delete your tinder today?” you asked curiously, humming when he nipped at your jaw. Stars, you knew you would feel sore tomorrow but also you could not wait for it. It felt like Paz had laid claim on you and in a weird way you did not mind that at all.

“I met you,” he said as a way of explanation before rolling off you and lying down on the other side of the bed, “I wasn’t very successful in the first place and then I saw you and I thought… I don’t know I guess I thought maybe I could find a pretence to visits the kindergarten and ask for your number …” he shrugged, looking a little bashful and your heart swelled.

“That’s … that’s really thoughtful,” you murmured, scooting closer to him until your front was pressed against his side. He was still warm and you could not help but snuggle closer.

“What can I say?” he grinned, laying his arm around your shoulder, “I’m a charmer.”

You laughed, not protesting when he pressed a kiss to your temple. To think the day had started so well and taken such turns only for you to end up exactly where you wanted to … It must be your lucky day.

“So, since we’re on the topic,” he whispered against your temple, “Can I have your number?”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #smut #may’s birthday bash

[missblissy]

Hullo, I just discovered your content and man oh man, I am HERE for it. I was wondering if you could do something with Alastor fancying a new worker (who secretly fancies him as well) at the hotel that ALWAYS has headphones on, grinning, dancing and singing along to their tunes while they work. But, in honour of Freddie Mercury’s B-Day and MY favourite band, the new worker accidentally gets so lost in their singing and dancing that they inadvertently serenade Alastor with the song Radio Ga Ga. Thank you in advance. ☺️

((No problem Nonny~!! I had a lot of fun playing around with this one!! I'm sorry for the wait I know a lot of time as passed since then but I hope this makes up for it :'D ENJOY!!))

You had only started working at the... Happy? Happy Hotel? Yeah... Whatever, you had only been there for a week. Your job was simple, you were the hotel's private cook for its tenants. This place didn't feel like a hotel at all. You've worked at one before. It felt more like a sorry attempt at a rehab center. But that didn't really affect you at the end of your day. You simply just cooked food, and you were good at it.

The nicest part about your job was that you pretty much stayed in the kitchen, out of sight, and left to yourself. You were the only cook they needed. You'd often wear headphones and sing to yourself as you'd work tirelessly over a meal. You would also dance while you cleaned, jamming out to whatever song came out of the shuffled playlist.

You were lost in doing a little dance and wiping down a counter. In fact, you were so lost in your task that you didn't notice someone come into the kitchen. Very rarely did this happen so you never really looked out for people coming in. That and... They were behind you.

With your headphones in you also couldn't hear them. And when the next song came on you just had to turn up the volume. Your heart filled with joy at hearing one of your favorite songs. You did a little sway of your hips and pretend a spatula was your microphone.

Some parts you hummed, but when it was time to sing... Oh... boy did you sing, "I'd sit alone and watch your light~! My only friend, through teenage nights!" You were still cleaning the counter as you ran the rag over its surface and wiped away the crumbs, "And everything, I had to know. I heard it on, my radio! You gave them all! Those old-time stars, through wars of worlds- invaded by Mars~"

You through the rag into a sink across the kitchen with ease, doing a little dance and still unaware of someone with big smile, watching the new cook sing away.

"You made 'em laugh, you made 'em cry. You made us feel like we could fly! So don't become, some background noise. A backdrop for, the girls and boys. Who just don't know, or just don't care. And just complain- when you're not there!" You still had your back to the doors as you walked around the counter and dramatically dragged your fingers. You gave a quick swish of your hips as you made it over to the sink.

"You had your time, you had the power~ You've yet to have your finest hour~Radio- radio. All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio goo goo~! Radio ga ga! All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio blah blah-" You sang into your make microphone and raised a hand to the sky, you took on a the stance of the stars and sidestepped to your dance, "Radio, what's new? Radio- someone still loves you-" You did a little spin then screamed at the top of your lungs.

You dropped the spatula and nearly jumped out of your own skin. Who the hell was this!? How long was he here????? You tore out your headphones as your face began to burn.

"C-can I help you?" You had never seen him before...

The man standing before you had a loose and shallow grin on his face with his arms tucked neatly behind his back, "You have a lovely singing voice," He said to your surprise. He took a few steps towards you and went on to say, "I came by because I heard we had a new cook! I had been busy up until now so I hadn't the chance to stop by. I'm certainly glad I did now!" Eventually, he closed the distance between the two of you and held out a hand, "Alastor. A pleasure."

You stood there frozen for a few seconds. You hesitated then shook his hand, "(Y/n)... And... Thanks. I guess."

Alastor gave you a charming smile and asked, "So how is your cooking?" His red eyes bore into you, "I fancy the craft myself, so I am quite intrigued by your skill, if I may so ask."

Geeze he sure did talk like an old man. You looked around the kitchen then shrugged, "I was a private chef before I died. It's why Charlie hired me. I'd say I'm pretty good."

"Excellent!" Alastor beamed. He quickly took off his red tailor coat and threw it in some random direction. You were instantly met with a far different outfit. His red dress shirt was neatly tucked in pants, which were held up by thin black suspenders. You were most surprised as Alastor rolled up his sleeves. His gloves were not gloves at all, but a part of his skin. the deep dark colors bleed like veins up his arm before fading out

You found yourself oddly attracted to this man all of a sudden. Not because he wanted to cook with you, but because of you... didn't expect him to look that. Which happened to be very handsome without the raggy rundown tailcoat. You simply couldn't lie. He was slowly swooning you.

"W-what are we cooking?" You shyly asked.

But his enthusiasm still startled you. He had already grabbed a long knife, swung it in his hand then pointed the tip of the blade at you, "What is the dish that makes your memories come to life?"

That was kind of... how would you say it? Deep? Philosophical? Something like that. You managed to stand on the other side of the counter and grab a large spoon. You closed your eyes and thought, "Chicken and Dumpling Stew," You said as you felt a smile grow on your face as the memory came to you.

Your mother was a kind woman, and the biggest reason you became a cook. Warmth flooded your blood as the golden reminder of her cooking brought peace to your mind. You hadn't made that stew since you were alive, so something seemed even slightly more special than normal.

When you opened your eyes again, letting the memory fade away, you saw Alastor with a large smile on his face, "Well, let's get cooking then," He grinned at you, then even managed to give you a charming smile with a wink. It almost seemed like he was flirting if you didn't know any better.

You smiled at him, slightly flustered by how odd this man was but... also how nice he was trying to be. He wanted to cook with you, which honestly there was no greater way to spend time than cooking with the people you enjoy. Food brought people together, and you had an idea that Alastor saw it the same way. Which was true, he wanted to cook with you so he could get to know this new member of the staff, and perhaps he found you rather... intriguing as well too.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor / you #alastor hazbin hotel #drabble #cute #kinda short #x reader #reader insert #hazbin alastor x reader #ask #anon #nonny #answered

[inber]

promises woven, worn

A/N: Trying to fight the writer’s block monster. Just some Geraskier fluff, very tame. CW for drinking. Enjoy! 2.1k

Never in all his many, many years alive on the Continent had Geralt seen a pout as tremendously pronounced as the one that painted Jaskier's features, simultaneously pathetic and guilt-inducing at once. One would think that Geralt had poured ink all over Jaskier's favourite doublet, or snapped the strings of his lute. Instead, Jaskier had merely been forbidden from shadowing Geralt on the last leg of his leshen hunt.

“I've never seen a leshen, though!” Jaskier whined, not for the first time.

“Good. Should keep it that way.” Geralt buckled the strap of one of his saddlebags closed.

“But the songs! You're robbing me, dearest, you truly are. I swear to be good, I swear to Melitele that--”

“No. For the last fucking time, Jaskier, I am dealing with a young leshen. Doesn't know how to control its powers, or what it really wants. Even if you're standing two hundred yards away, the damned thing can command a wolf to go for your neck, and what will you do then?”

Jaskier looked down at his boots, scuffing the hay on the stable floor. “Prob'ly die. A bit.”

“Exactly.” Geralt mounted Roach easily. Jaskier didn't glance up, but he did sidle out of the way. All Geralt needed to do was squeeze his thighs, urge Roach into a trot...

Instead, Geralt sighed deeply. “Listen. After the hunt, there's sure to be a feast. I usually don't stick around for them. The clans each have their traditions, speciality dishes, that sort of thing. If I say we can attend, will you stop fucking moping?”

“Ooh!” Jaskier blossomed immediately, all wide blue-wash eyes and clasped hands, grinning in a way that made Geralt feel warm in his middle. “I'd so love that. Yes, please, Geralt. I'll wait for your return. What to wear? What does one wear to a feast on Skellige? That nice herbalist – what was her name? I'll go talk to her--”

“I'll see you soon, Jaskier.” Geralt said, smirking. “Be good.”

“And you be safe! Come back to me!” As always, Jaskier stood and waved until Geralt was out of sight. It was an odd ritual, Geralt thought, but it never failed to bolster his spirits. He didn't completely understand why.

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

Staring up at the plume of smoke, Geralt wondered if a bonfire could reach up so tall that it'd scorch the sky. It was that simple thought that made him realise that he was more than a little tipsy, courtesy of the plum wine, strong as the Skelligers liked to brew it. He also noted that he felt content and sated for the first time in weeks.

Across from him, Jaskier was chatting animatedly with a pair of warriors, no doubt learning lore first-hand. Or perhaps they were discussing the intricacies of Geralt's hunt. Truth be told, Geralt was rather proud that the leshen hadn't needed to be killed; if the village honoured a yearly sacrifice, then the forest would protect them in turn. It was the best outcome. Leshen fights were brutal, and in place of death and waste, now there would be prosperous life.

Sounded a bit like romantic nonsense, actually. Geralt was clearly spending too much time with Jaskier, or at least absorbing more of his never-ending monologue. Glancing over the clearing again, he watched the firelight stroke shadows across the bard's sun-tanned skin. He drank more wine.

“Master witcher?” A small voice interrupted his reverie, and Geralt glanced at the girl who had approached him. She was flanked by two of her friends, all of them visibly nervous. Out of habit, Geralt hunched his shoulders down, shrinking into himself.

“Yes?”

“We were wonderin'... that is, if you've had your fill of roasted pork, we was wondering if you wanted to make bison grass rings with us?” The girl smiled crookedly, fidgeting.

“Rings, huh?” Geralt returned the smile. “What does that entail?”

“Weavin', and you thread special beads on 'em, if you want. We can teach you!”

“It's real fun!” The child to the right of the leader found her courage.

“Well, you'll have to go easy on me. Take it a bit slow. I have big, clumsy fingers.” Geralt held out his hands. The girls giggled over the size of them, and then grabbed at them, pulling him up. He allowed himself to be puppeteered. Their enthusiasm was sweet.

Geralt had always had a soft spot for kids; those too young to be truly frightened of him, or those who could sense the gentle truth of his disposition. Soon he found himself surrounded by youths, bossy and noisy. Geralt laughed with them, and began to weave as he was taught.

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

Jaskier was capable of listening to his companion's triumphant tale about an ice giant – or was it a troll? – and staring doe-eyed at Geralt at the same time. He was talented that way. As a child poked daisies haphazardly into Geralt's long, loose hair, Jaskier sighed into his wine.

“...and thwack, his head fell to the ground. Hah! It was a great fight, bard. You should make a song out of it.”

“Huh? Oh, yes, quite. It has all the makings of an epic.” Jaskier turned back to the two men, hiding his fluster by picking at some grapes on his plate.

The warrior who had been telling the story chuckled lowly. “Does he share your affections?”

“Who?”

“Who, he says. As if we are blind.” The man nudged his friend, and the two of them guffawed. Jaskier felt his ear-tips redden.

“I am rather obvious, aren't I?” Jaskier said, running a hand through his hair. “Can't help it. Specially when he's like this, all... relaxed, kind. People just see the swords. They don't know him, not truly.”

“Sounds like you're in deep, little bard.” The other warrior smirked, clapping Jaskier on the back so hard he spilled some wine. “Do not fret. I think he's getting there.”

“You do?”

“Oh, aye. Has a look about him, you know? As if he's trying to figure out a puzzle, but he can't make the pieces fit. So close.” The man drank from his flagon.

“Huh.” Jaskier said, and then glanced back at Geralt.

“Perhaps he'll give you one of his rings.” The first warrior spoke, his voice light.

“I very much doubt that.” Jaskier tripped over his words, blushing deeper, eyes darting between the men. “He may not have an academy education as I do, but I am certain he's familiar with your customs. Declaring his love in the middle of a feast is, uh, not his style.”

“If you say so.” Both of his company rose, one after the other. “Wonder why he's coming over here, then?”

“What?” Jaskier squeaked, whirling around. Geralt was indeed wandering over, new mug of drink in hand. Jostling him good-naturedly, the warrior duo departed, leaving Jaskier with nerves in his mouth and fiddly fingertips.

“Good feast, yes?” Geralt said, sitting heavily down on the empty log beside Jaskier. “You having fun?”

“Lots of fun.” Jaskier flashed a quick smile. “These are good people, and they do like to chat. And the food, food's good, as you said. They do like a strong drink, don't they? Whoo!”

Geralt laughed, and swallowed some of his own beverage. “Told you you'd like it.”

“You were right. Just this once, though.” Jaskier couldn't look at Geralt for too long, not flower-crowned and glossy-eyed as he was. It made him ache. “So, uh, what were you doing with the young folk?”

“Hmm? Oh! Yes, that reminds me.” Geralt fumbled with his pocket.

“Geralt, what are you--”

“Under the eye of the Gods, I ask you, Jaskier, to be my companion. To uh--” Geralt squinted at the girls some distance away, and they gesticulated. “Right, yes. To fight with me, to walk with me. Accept this small token?”

Opening his hand, Geralt offered the band sat there; it was clumsily woven, threaded with one yellow bead and a reddish stone. Jaskier stared at it, and realised that around them, silence had descended. Those close enough to witness were watching this exchange.

Fuck. Jaskier had given Geralt more credit than he deserved, apparently. In this clan, the gesture was one step away from a life-bond. Geralt, the drunk numpty, was claiming Jaskier as his before the heavens, witnessed by descendants of Freya.

“Geralt, I'm not sure--” Jaskier whispered.

“I think I made it a lil' big. I'm sorry.” Geralt fixed his gaze with Jaskier's, lazy-hazy gold halos around rounded-out pupils, and Jaskier's heart did something odd in his chest.

How could he refuse? It'd sully Geralt's reputation, make him look foolish in the eyes of those he'd just saved. Jaskier would simply have to explain things later, and hope that the rumours would not spread too far.

“Of course.” Jaskier said, his voice shaking. “Under the eye of the Gods, I accept.”

“Oh, s'good, thank you.” Geralt said. Then he took Jaskier's right hand, and slid the grass-ring onto his middle finger. Around them, people raised their mugs and cheered. Geralt only grinned, and Jaskier couldn't help but desperately adore him – Geralt, drunk and accidentally idiotic, his lips plum-stained, his hands dirt-streaked.

The only thing left to do was drink, and Jaskier sank gratefully into the task. The feast blurred around them. He didn't want the awkward dawn to come.

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

Obnoxiously, the sun did rise upon the pair of them, huddled under furs in a room spared by the baker's wife. It was cramped, but it was warm and soft, and the perfect place to wake up to a malicious hangover. Jaskier reluctantly unpeeled himself from where he'd been draped across Geralt's chest, groaning. Geralt made a sound of discontentment.

“Fuck.” Jaskier cradled his head in his hands. “Jug of water on your right. Pass it, would you?”

Geralt obliged, and then stretched, luxuriant and cat-like. Jaskier drank and side-eyed him. He felt something brush against the jug, and—oh.

The ring was still on his finger.

“I don't envy you.” Geralt purred. “Human-made liquor isn't strong enough to ruin my day, but witchers aren't immune to hangovers. Lambert makes the most disgusting and potent vodka.”

“Right, yes. Lambert, disgusting.” Jaskier repeated stupidly.

“Exactly!” Geralt laughed.

“What? Um.” Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut as if he could clear the headache that way. “Geralt, we have to talk. About last night.”

“What about it?” Geralt accepted the jug, took a few gulps.

“The ring you gave me. I am not sure what the girls told you, but, um. It's rather important. I couldn't say at the time – too many eyes upon us – but you... well, you essentially declared your intentions to me. To, uh, keep me. Court me. That sort of thing.”

Geralt blinked stickily at him.

“I know it was a mistake, so we'll just... fuck, we'll hope nobody speaks much of it. If we're lucky, the word won't--”

“Wasn't a mistake.”

Jaskier whipped his head sideways, saucer-eyed. “I beg your pardon, what did you just say?”

“The girls that taught me. They said you give a ring to someone you want to stay with, always. Someone you trust, and who trusts you. Someone important. I knew the colours – yellow for promise, red for protection. And I knew who I wanted to give my ring to.”

“Really?” Jaskier's voice pitched an octave higher.

“But if, if you think it's a mistake, I understand. You're the best man that I know, Julek, and I wanted to know you more. I'm better at actions than... words. I thought maybe you'd think it was a bit romantic.” Geralt looked down at the fur, picking at it.

“I just—I never thought—”

“You're right. It's stupid. I'm sorry. I hope you weren't embarrassed. I'm sorry.”

“Shut up, would you, darling? I never hoped, that's more accurate. Geralt, we've been friends for years, but I knew there was more there. I just didn't think you were ready, or perhaps that you even wanted to change things.” Jaskier gently cupped Geralt's chin, chasing his eyes.

“Really?” Geralt whispered.

“Oh, if I could go back in time with this knowledge! Geralt, dearest, I'd have leapt at you like the lovesick man I am, kissed you stupid, right in front of everyone. I wish I had.”

Geralt smiled slowly, revealing a hint of pearly fang. “You could... do it now. If you wanted. No one's watching, but I'll enjoy it the same.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

So Jaskier did, carefree and besotted, laughing into Geralt's sweet mouth, crushed daisies caught between his curled fingers.

#the witcher fandom #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #drabble #fortune writes #inber

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Snow Covered Mountains // (F.W.)

Summary: A wintery escape with the one you love.

Prompt 41: Renting a winter cabin

Prompt 93: “You are very endearing when you are half asleep.”

Prompt 94: “How about a kiss?”

A/N: My entry into @vogueweasley‘s writing challenge! Congratulations on your milestone, I am so happy for you!! I’m so sorry it has taken a while to get to! I really did love writing this fic, it’s just so fluffy! I hope you like!!

Warnings: a lot of fluff, post!hogwarts, no angst just happiness

Word count: 2.1k

“Where exactly are we going?” Fred questions: bags in one hand as he holds the other out for you.

You smile, “You’ll see when we arrive.”

Fred goes to question you further; happy to drop the bags and question you until he’s blue in the face but you grab his hand before he can start, apparating the both of you to the winter cabin you had rented for a long weekend.

It wasn’t a large cabin, big enough for the two of you to enjoy the time away together. Fred remained speechless as you led him up the stairs to the porch, digging around in your bag for the key to the door.

Pushing open the door, you step aside for Fred to enter first. He drops the bags to one side before walking further into the large living room. A rustic feel to the room, a great couch takes up the centre of the room, a cream blanket laid over the back of it. In front of the couch, a fireplace sits unlit. Smiling to yourself you follow Fred into the living room, making a mental note to light the fire as soon as possible to warm the both of you through.

Fred moves to walk through to the bedroom, spying the queen size bed from his spot in the living room. Instead, Fred turns to you, eyes bright with happiness and love as he asks, “When did you do this?”

You shrug, “A couple of weeks ago. You came home from the shop looking dog-tired, so I spoke to George and he let me take these days for you. That night, I booked the cabin.”

Fred rushes over to you, taking your face in his hands and tilting it back slightly. His eyes run over your face, searching for the answer to a question you don’t know. “I love you; you know that right. I love you so very much.”

You cover his hands with yours, smiling up at the redhead that had occupied your heart and mind for years now, “I love you too.”

Fred beams, refusing to say another word as he presses his lips to yours in a kiss that effectively ends all conversation for the rest of the day.

--------

The morning starts deliciously slow. There was something incredibly sweet about waking up naturally, without aid of an alarm. The absence of the piercing shriek happily noted by the both of you as you stretched, reaching out for Fred across the bed.

Fred meets you halfway, humming happily in his sleep as he feels your body curl around his. Your legs slip in between his as your hand runs across the flat expanse of his stomach.

From there, the morning turned even more languid. Fred waking, kissing you immediately before rolling you onto your back where he pressed you further into the mattress. Fred in the mornings was really something to behold: sleepy smiles, messy hair and intoxicating kisses. He was a dream in the mornings.

Breakfast is late. Fred cooking shirtless as you sat at the counter, admiring the man you fell in love with so many years ago. You couldn’t keep the smile from your face as you twisted the ring that sat on your finger; a proposal whispered in the middle of the night; an answer swallowed by a kiss.

From there, the day is moved to the large couch in the living room. Fred falling backwards onto it, tugging you down on top of him. After years together, the position is second nature, the weight of each other being nothing but a comforting presence.

It doesn’t take very long for either of you to nod off. Fred’s breathing slows first; his fingers that were doodling aimless patterns onto your back stops, a sign that he’s fallen asleep peacefully. You follow soon after, drifting off with a hand resting on Fred’s chest.

------

Similar to the morning, you wake slowly, finding that neither of you had moved through the late morning nap. Sighing in content, you become aware of a hand playing with your hair. Turning your head, you meet Fred’s gaze. It’s soft and filled with nothing but love. He doesn’t say anything, but a small smile spreads across his face.

“You are very endearing when you are half asleep,” You whisper, tilting your face, brushing your lips against his in a manner that has Fred craving more and more and more.

Fred smiles against your mouth, conscious of the fact that you currently reside on top of him in a manner that could quickly become counterproductive to the day he has planned in his mind.

He taps your hip, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. You shiver against him; a reaction that Fred never got sick of. He pulls back from your mouth, a smile still on his face. “We really need to get up, love,” He states, shifting underneath you, keeping a tight hold on your waist.

“Do we have to?” You question softly, the whisper of suggestion in those four words has Fred’s body under yours heating. He wants to cave; he wants to fall back onto the couch, his mouth attached to yours as his hands wander further under your shirt, brushing against your skin in a manner that will leave you gasping.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he laughs quietly, shaking his head at your words. “I’m afraid we do. It’s snowed some more when we were asleep, and I know you want to make a snowman before we leave.”

You purse your lips, weighing up the decision in your mind. Stay warm and make out with Fred or brave the cold and make a snowman – your only aim since arriving at the cabin three days ago.

“I suppose we should,” You sigh dramatically, moving off Fred and standing from the couch.

He pouts as you move, missing the warmth of your body already. Your eyes run over his naked torso unashamedly, drinking in the sight of the man you had pledged your forever to. It was a sight you could never grow tired of, but now Fred needed to put a shirt on.

“Babe, grab a shirt and then we can head out.”

Fred wiggles his eyebrows at you; relishing in the fact that he can fluster you so quickly even after all the time together. He doesn’t argue; the quicker he has a shirt on, the quicker he can get you back to the cabin and back into bed.

------

Snow covers the ground, untouched and pure. It’s breathtaking, Fred thinks to himself as he rubs his hands together to force some warmth into them. He reaches for the gloves in his pockets, tugging them on as he turns to face you.

He stops halfway round; caught off guard by the smile on your face.

You aren’t looking at him. You’re focused on the view from the porch of the cabin. The freshly fallen snow blanketing tree branches and weighing them down; the crispness to the air and the bright sky that only promises further snow fall.

To be loved by you, Fred realises, is an honour. A continued honour that he will always take above everything else. To know that you love him just as intensely, as encompassing as he loves you has his body feeling whole once more.

There was a time, not too long ago, where he doubted everything. A time where he couldn’t tell reality apart from the nightmares that had haunted him since that fateful day at Hogwarts.

Then you entered his life as a force to be reckoned with. The friendship that he had cherished for years was rekindled when you entered the Burrow and offered him a short and sweet reality check. Fred likes to joke that that was the exact moment he fell in love with you.

But as you smile up at the sky; a peaceful look on your face, eyes shining with happiness so deserved that Fred realises he’s been falling in love with you every day since.

How could someone as wonderful as you love someone as broken as him?

That is very question he asks himself as you turn away from the view, focusing your attention on him. The very love you feel for the redhead written across your face, shining from every pore as you reach for his hand. The gloves make it difficult to tangle your fingers together, but you hold his hand just as tightly as you did that day you whispered yes to him.

How could someone as wonderful as you love someone as broken as him?

Fred remembers the very first moment he asked himself this question. The anniversary of the battle was fast approaching, and Fred could feel himself sinking to a dark place he now visits so rarely, but at one time spent most of his time there. He could feel the weight of it pressing on his chest, constricting his breathing and worrying his mind.

He remembers how you banished the very thought from his mind. How you pressed yourself against him; taking his face in your hands as you listed the ways in which you loved him. By the end of the list, you were both reduced to tears, but he had understood. He had understood perfectly how you could love someone as broken as him.

You were broken yourself. Broken but healing with the help of Fred, just as he was broken but healing with your help.

Still, sometimes he has to take a moment. Only a moment to question how he got here; how he got to this point in his life where he’s in love with someone as lovely as you and the ring on your hand to prove it.

The snow crunches under your feet as you step down onto the first step, turning back to Fred with a large smile. “Come on magic man,” You laugh, “I want to make a snowman!”

Fred cannot help but laugh along with you, following you down the front steps of the cabin and into the fresh snow. It freezes his feet, and the cold begins to seep into his bones, but when you turn to find him following you, the smile that crosses your face instantly warm his body up once more.

You haven’t strayed too far from the warmth of the cabin when you pause, spinning in a circle. “Here,” You state plainly, “Here is where we’ll build Sebastian.”

“Sebastian?” Fred asks, eyebrows flying to his hairline.

“Sebastian is his name,” You explain, bending at the knees to gather the snow.

“Why Sebastian?” Fred asks, a curious but slightly envious tone to his voice.

You shrug, crushing the snow in your hands, “It’s a strong name for a snowman.”

“I’m glad you’ve thought this through,” He states, “But does it have to be a man?”

“Fred,” You gasp, the beginnings of laughter curling in your chest, “Are you jealous of a snowman?”

Fred shakes his head, refusing to answer, “I was just wondering why Sebastian couldn’t be Samantha?”

You fix him with a plain look, still holding the now formed snowball, “It’s a snowman, Fred. Sebastian was the first name that popped into my head. Now, do you want to build a snowman before we freeze our fingers off?”

Fred laughs, jealousy forgotten as he bends down, gathering masses of snow to make the bottom of the snowman. The ball slowly begins to grow as Fred shifts through the snow, pushing the snowball along with a now cold hand.

It’s as he’s doing this when something wet and cold smacks into his face. He splutters, snow freezing his cheeks as his eyes widen at your actions. “What was that for?” Fred all but shouts, enjoying the sound of your laughter at the sight of his sopping wet hair that now falls over his forehead.

“For being jealous of a snowman!”

Fred holds his hands up, admitting, “Alright. I was jealous of the snowman – are you happy now?”

You smile, victorious, “Much. I’ll get to work on the middle section if you’re happy to continue with the bottom?”

“More than happy, love.”

You turn back to your work, gathering and collecting the snow to start rolling into a ball. Fred smirks as he breaks up the snowball in his hands, beginning to creep in your direction, the idea fully formed in his mind.

You screech as the snow falls down the back of your coat; soaking your jumper and everything else you wear. You turn to Fred, scowling playfully as you tackle him into the snow, straddling him as he lays in the cold. Sebastian the Snowman now long forgotten by the both of you.

“Shall we head back to the cabin?” You ask, heat alight in your eyes, love alive in your smile.

“I’d follow you anywhere,” Fred whispers earnestly, “But I have something to ask you first.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Now I have to hear this.”

Fred pushes himself up, propping himself on his elbows; pure happiness written across his features, “How about a kiss?”

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @lunalovegxxd​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @imboredandneedalife​ @levylovegood​ @mytreec​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @stupxfy​ @chaoticgirl04​ @accio-rogers​ @starlightweasley​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @lestersglitterglue​ @msmimimerton​ @obx-beach​ @izzytheninja​ @slytherinprincess03​ @bbeauttyybbx​ @breadqueen95​ @acciotwinz​ @kashishwrites​ @slytherinsunrise​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @remmyswritings​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @ria-rests-here​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​ @inglourious-imagines​ @ithilwen-lionheart​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @theonly1outof-a-billion​ @phuvioqhile​ @moatsnow​ @missmulti​ @storyisnotover​

Fred Weasley taglist: @whiz-bangs78 @susceptible-but-siriusexual @seppys-return-to-madness @hexmione @ickle-ronniekins @oh-for-merlins-sake @somekidinacoma

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #vogueweasley1k

[mehreya]

regret

↬ wc: 3.9k

↬ pairing: bokuto kotarou x fem!reader

↬ genre: angst, fluff, soulmate au 

↬ summary: you’ve always viewed the concept of soulmates negatively, or even indifferently, but bokuto kotarou quickly changes your mind.

-- send an ask to @/seraee to be on my gen taglist or fill out my form in navi!!

As life progresses, regret, you learn, is the absolute bane of your existence.

You are born in 20th century Japan, near the end of the Shōwa period, and you grow up during the Heisei period. The soulmate legend has become increasingly well-known by then; but you are raised in such times where people, although they know of the soulmate legend, refuse to believe it, or to accept it.

Your grandmother is the one to recount the soulmate tale to you, not your mother. Your mother, a few years after she’s had you, leaves you in the hands of your grandmother, too scared to be trapped in motherhood, too scared to end up like her own mother; trapped in a loveless marriage, forced to be a mother at the age of 20. Your father stays with you and your grandmother, but when you turn eight, he passes away; taken away by weary thoughts and the liquor he so loves.

You are thus left alone with your grandmother, who, though she does her best to support you, is not enough. You have to take on three other jobs at the age of fifteen just to make sure you can pay for your high school education. The idea of taking on even more jobs just to be able to afford university tires you immensely, and you decide you cannot go to university. You just can’t.

Why do you have to work so hard to go to university anyway, when you can just pick up a few years later, when you have enough money? At that point, you are convinced that because of your bad luck, you won’t be meeting your soulmate anytime soon. You’re not even sure if you want to meet him; all your friends are planning to leave to Tokyo to engage in wild partying and one night stands; none of them want to be tied down by something as fickle as love. No one wants to be like their Shōwa mothers.

You decide you do not want to be like your mother; someone who abandoned you. But you don’t want to end up like your grandmother either. Caught between a rock and a hard place, you ultimately decide if you meet your soulmate, you will try, but until then, you want to live your life the way you want to. You want to go with your friends to Tokyo and party and be free, and just not worry about financial, emotional or other materialistic problems.

So with a kiss to your grandmother’s cheek and a last look at the house you grew up in but never loved, you leave for Tokyo the minute you turn eighteen.

Tokyo is bright lights and loud noises; a rush of color and sound and everything in between. Your friends seem to enjoy it; glad they are free from the restrictions of the old village you lived in. You try to enjoy it as well, and for the first few weeks, you really do. You relish in the feeling of letting loose in clubs, dancing to your heart’s content, throwing back shots, meeting new people. It is a rush of excitement and exhilaration, and you are completely drunk on the feeling.

Three years pass just like this, full of wild nights and random strangers and drunk parties. And then one day, a realization hits you. You wake up like normal, in some unfamiliar person’s bed, your garments thrown to the side haphazardly. Feeling the urge to vomit, you slide out of bed carefully, but one look back at the man, and you know he’s out cold. You hurry to the bathroom and vomit out last night’s contents, sighing as you wash your face with cool water after you’re done.

Slipping out of the bathroom quietly, you take in your surroundings and realize you are in a penthouse. You get dressed as quickly and quietly as you can and swipe as much cash as you can carry from the rich man’s wallet, which lay near your clothes. You’re just about to head out when light peeking in from behind curtains covering the floor-length window catches your eye.

Padding over to the window, wanting to see what the view is like from the highest floor of a building, you pull open the curtains and quickly step in front of the window, closing the curtains behind you. A soft gasp leaves your mouth as you take in the sight in front of you.

The sky is a beautiful pale blue covered by white wisps of clouds, intertwining around emerging rays of sunlight peeking through. It looks so beautiful; just like the sunrises your grandma used to show you. She used to bring you up to the hilltop and used to braid your hair at the top and sing you a lullaby as you watched the sunrise with her.

This is the first time you’ve thought about your grandma in years, and tears gather at the corner of your eyes at your thoughtlessness. Is your grandma doing well? Is she taking care of herself? Is she even alive?

You twist out from behind the curtains hurriedly, gathering your belongings and practically running to the elevator, barely holding in sobs as you do so. You must have looked very strange to the people in the elevator with you, but you cannot bring yourself to care.

The second you hear the ding that signals the elevator doors are opening, you rush out, scurrying to the nearest sheltered curb you can find. And you sit down, bury your head in your hands, and you sob.

A few weeks later finds you on the train back to your home town. You’re nervous; it’s been a long time since you’ve seen your grandmother. The remorse and the regret had piled up for years, and you’d just pushed them away, but now; now, you decide it’s been too long. Too long since you visited the woman who practically raised you, too long since you talked to the one who’d loved you and cared for you when your own parents hadn’t.

And thus, you’re resolute in your decision, even though every cell in your body is screaming at you to run away. The slowing down of the train, and the hoot of the train horn alerts you to the fact that you’ve arrived at your destination. Somewhat hesitantly, you step off the train and breathe in the familiar air. Though it didn’t truly feel like home, it felt good to be back.

You grab a cab, anticipation thrumming through your veins. Reaching home, you swing open the rusty white screen door and step inside gently.

“Obaa-san?”  You call out softly, taking off your shoes and putting them beside the door. She calls out your name, surprised. Her voice is a feeble croak, and sounds incredibly weary, as if she might collapse any minute. Heart clenching in worry and fear, you follow the direction of her voice to her bedroom door.

Swinging it open gently, you freeze as you see the weakened figure of your ailing grandmother. Her skin is incredibly pale, and she is barely breathing, so faintly you didn’t even realize she was until you looked closely. She beckons you closer, and you step forward weakly, tears blurring the edges of your vision. “Obaa-san.” You breathe out softly, regret clogging up your throat.

“Child,” she takes a shuddering, wheezing breath, and then closes her eyes completely, too weakened to even attempt anything other than talking.

“I’m glad you’re home.” You’re crying now, but she can barely move her arms to comfort you, and that makes you cry harder.

“There, there. My time has come, (Name). My last and only wish for you,” she wheezes, and the lines on her face slowly go slack. “Is I wish you would go to college, and end up being someone successful. I hope for you to live a happy, successful life.” Her voice fades in the end, and she goes completely still. You cry out for her, but she doesn’t respond, and you spend the rest of the day mourning by her side, lamenting the fact that you were too late.

To honour your grandmother’s last wish, you enrol in Tokyo University as soon as you can. The first two years of college pass by surprisingly easy, the cash you’d accumulated from your nights out, along with the money your grandma had left you, pays well for your tuition. You still haven’t aged a bit; no grey hairs visible. That changes in your third year of college though; in the first semester of your third year of college, you meet your supposed other half.

“(Name), you are to be partnered with Bokuto Koutarou for this assignment.” Your English professor intones monotonously, before clearing his throat and reading out the next pair, leaving no room for further instructions or debate.

Having never heard that name before, you glance around the lecture hall curiously, hoping your partner will come to you instead of you having to go to him. A flash of black and white catches your eye, and you see a black-and-white haired boy walking toward you, a cheerful smile on his face. His eyes are rather unique, you note, brilliant gold with a black slit for the pupil. He kind of reminds you of an owl, at first glance, and the cautious walls you always have up are lowered slightly.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He greets cheerfully, one hand reaching out for yours in a high five, to which you comply, slightly unnerved when he slaps your palm and then pumps it up and down excitedly. “I’m Bokuto Koutarou, but you can call me Bo!” He grins cheerfully, and since you usually tend to keep to yourself, the excited greeting from someone you don’t even know makes your heart warm a little.

You greet him back quietly, smiling a little as you tell him your name. He grabs a nearby chair and sits down next to you, practically bouncing in his seat. ���SO,” he begins loudly, and you lean away a little, not wanting your eardrums to be blown out. “What theme are ya thinking about?” He asks, leaning toward you a little.

“I was thinking…since it’s Romeo and Juliet, we could do the easiest and most central theme, love?” You say a little uncertainly. Though you have little to no experience on the subject, aside from your grandmother, it is one of the most obvious themes of the play, and you’re sure you can make something up. The assignment basically entails analysing a theme and relating to it, then displaying it to the audience; nowhere does it say it has to be truthful.

“Sure!” He agrees cheerfully, head bobbing up and down eagerly. “Great.” you smile back. The bell is going to go in a few minutes, and you realize you still haven’t packed up your things. “Do you mind going and signing us up?”

“I gotcha!” He stands up abruptly, almost knocking into someone behind him, who just stares at him a little disgruntled, and walks away.

Before he can start walking off though, you need to set a time and place for your meeting to discuss more on the assignment. “Um, Bo-san?”

He turns around, eyes sparkling, “Just Bo is fine!” He says with a thumbs up.

“Right…Bo-kun?” you say slowly. “Man, you’re just like Akaashi!” He pouts a little. You perk up, Akaashi and you are somewhat good acquaintances; did he by any chance, know Bokuto too?

“You know Akaashi-kun?” You ask curiously. “Yeah!” He says, pointing to himself proudly, “Me and Akaashi are roommates!”

“Ah…Then, to discuss the project, we could meet up at your place?” You trust Akaashi to an extent and Bokuto seems nice enough, so you figure there’s no harm. Besides, it’s much better than your cramped little apartment. Bokuto agrees, as you expected, and then the bell rings, and you say your goodbyes.

You stare at the door in front of you, re-checking the number plate and the address Bokuto had scribbled down and shoved into your hand hastily, when you’d reminded him that you didn’t know where you lived.

You knock twice, and the door swings open to reveal an excited Bokuto. “Hey, hey! So, how long do you think this will take? Do you think it’s gonna take long? Please tell me it doesn’t take long!” You’re bombarded with questions as Bokuto hovers in front of you. Someone nudges him out of the way, and then you are met with Akaashi’s face, “Bokuto-san, please give our guest some space.” He says with a sigh.

“Oh!” Bokuto makes a face in understanding, “You’re right, Akaashi!” Akaashi shakes his head, and then looks toward you, bowing his head a little in greeting. You greet him back before stepping into their apartment, arranging your shoes by the door neatly. Akaashi murmurs something to Bokuto quietly, and you look away respectfully. You only look back when there’s a shuffling sound to see Akaashi leaving.

He notices you looking, and says politely, “Well, I’ll be off then.” There must have been a confused expression on your face, because he shifts a little uncomfortably before explaining he’s off to see his girlfriend. Oh. You didn’t even know he had a girlfriend. He nods to you one last time, and then leaves after directing a stern look toward Bokuto.

“C’mon then! Let’s do this quickly!” Bokuto pumps his fist in the air excitedly. “May I ask why you’re in such a hurry, Bo-kun?”

“Ah, I wanna go play volleyball! Volleyballll!” He exclaims as he bounces down onto the sofa. “Oh, you enjoy volleyball?” You follow him, taking out your binder and notes from your bag. “Yeah!” He leans toward you eagerly, so close you can smell the peppermint on his breath. You shift away subtly, but you don’t think he would have noticed either way.

Bokuto bounces on the sofa impatiently as you begin the discussion. “Um, so… love…where do you think it can be observed in the play, and what form does it come in?” Bokuto stares at you blankly as he pauses, “Huh?” Facepalming, you sigh. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

Your meetings with Bokuto don’t go too bad surprisingly; once you bait him with the promise of playing volleyball with him (a trick you learned from Akaashi), he pays a little more attention, and takes down notes dutifully as you discuss (although analysing his writing is a task in and of itself, you’re glad he’s being productive). Hesitant acquaintanceship slowly leads to friendship as the months progress.

Akaashi can only watch silently as he sees you open yourself up a little and as he watched Bokuto wait in anticipation for your visit each day. He thinks the both of you are a little too oblivious; but then again, he doesn’t know you too well. Being kindred souls, both you and Akaashi liked to sit quietly in each other’s presence, but with Bokuto’s loud and excitable nature, he sees you open up a little. Akaashi can only hope that whatever is forming between you and Bokuto leads to something good.

You’re standing in front of your mirror one day, combing through your hair when a strand comes away in your hands. You’re about to throw it away mindlessly when you notice it’s not (h/c); no, it’s grey.The tell-tale sign one has met their soulmate is when they start aging, and that’s signified when their hair turns grey.

You sink down onto your bed slowly, processing the fact that one of the people you met this past few months was your soulmate. Well, you’ve only really interacted with two people, Kasamatsu…no, you’re sure it’s not him; you’re sure you would have felt something. Then…it’s probably Bokuto, you realize.

You’d decided you would try for your soulmate; try for love when you met him. But now that you know it’s Bokuto...you can’t do that to him. You can’t do that to Bokuto, who’s always so excited about everything; who’s always ready to help you; who always makes you feel like you’re better than who you really are. Bokuto deserves better. Better than you, who’s been with so many other while he’s been faithfully waiting. He deserves so much better, you think.

You have never regretted your life decisions more than you did at that moment. Regrets, you realize, are the absolute bane of your existence.

The same day, you have a meeting with Bokuto to wrap up some final ends of your project. The door to their apartment is open, and you let yourself in, the weight of your realization a few moments prior is heavy as you greet Akaashi.

He smiles at you softly in greeting; you and Akaashi had gotten closer as a result of Bokuto’s extrovertedness.

Bokuto bounds toward you excitedly, pointing toward his hair, which, now that you notice, looks more cleanly done than it was before, “(NAME), HEY, HEY, HEY!” He greets you as you laugh, “Hi Bo, what’s up?”

“Akaashi redyed my hair today, and guess what!”

“What?” you humour him, humming as you go through the motion of taking off your cardigan. “There was a grey hair in between my black ones!”

You freeze, unable to respond. How coincidental that on the same day you discover Bokuto is your soulmate; he finds out he has one too. You don’t notice Akaashi watching you observantly from his post right before the hallway you and Bokuto are in.

You’ve never been great at lying; you know this. You also know that if you run like you so want to, you will give yourself away. So you decide to try to keep a straight face, now painfully aware of Akaashi’s gaze boring a hole into the side of your head.

Bokuto is grinning proudly, both hands on his hips, eyebrows cocked, golden eyes sparkling. “Akaashi and I were making a list,” he chatters, not noticing as your straight face falls. “And (Name),” he turns a bit bashful now, pink visible on his cheeks as his eyes find yours, “We think you’re my soulmate!!” He’s grinning widely at you, albeit a bit more reserved than usual.

He’s clearly nervous. You play with your sleeves anxiously, deciding to let him down gently. You want Bokuto to lead a better life, and you’re sure he can find it with someone, anyone that isn’t you. You open your mouth to tell him no, but something won’t let you. Maybe it’s the way Akaashi’s eyes are drilling into yours from behind Bokuto, telling you not to do what he thinks you’re going to do; telling you not to let him go. Maybe it’s the way Bokuto’s face falls as you keep silent; the way his whole body seems to droop, the way the light that had been shimmering in his eyes dims.

And maybe it’s the crestfallen expression on his face; that’s how you know you can’t do this to Bokuto. You could never break his heart like that. You just hope that when he knows of your past; you just hope he won’t be hurt. You’ve lived with the weight of your life decisions for a while now; he is yet to find out. You regret not being there for your grandma; but you want to be there for him if he’ll let you.

“(Name)?” Bokuto’s quieter than usual voice snaps you out of your anxiety-ridden thoughts. “I-” You hesitate, but one look at his eyes, and you know you have to tell him, “I am your soulmate, Bokuto.”

He perks up almost immediately, throwing his fisted hands into the air triumphantly, “I knew it!”

“I-” You shuffle around anxiously, “But I need to, um, tell you something.”

Bokuto falters as he takes you in, finally realizing you have something important to say. “Sure.” he nods, glancing toward Akaashi, who slips into his bedroom, shutting the door quietly, but not before one warning look back at you. You and Akaashi are friends; but you know Bokuto will always come before you.

You turn your attention back to Bokuto, who’s looking at you confusedly. “So what’d ya want to tell me?” He asks, golden eyes softening as he looks at you, sleek silver eyebrows knitting together uncharacteristically gently.

Your heart feels like it’s in your throat, but you swallow it down, remembering the way Bokuto had looked a few minutes ago. He needs to know, and then he can decide whether or not he wants you.

You proceed to tell him the whole story, and his reactions are displayed on his face, clear for all to see. When you get to the part about your life in Tokyo, his lips quirk downward a little, and you wince.

“Bo, you – you deserve so much better.” You finish softly, eyes looking down. It’s quiet for a little while, Bokuto’s silence is unnerving and you wish the earth could swallow you.

“I don’t think so.” Bokuto’s voice makes you look up slowly, (e/c) pools hesitantly meeting his own golden ones, which are burning fiercely as they look at you. His arms are crossed and his face is pulled into an intense thinking expression.

When he notices you look up, he leans toward you with resolve. “You may have done all that, but that was before we met, before I was even born. What matters is that you picked yourself up, and you worked hard to come here and stay here.” You nod hesitantly, a little surprised; Bokuto’s acting very maturely, but then again, you suppose he always has been, a little bit. He just never showed it much.

“Besides,” Bokuto continues, a smile settling on his features, “You had that one moment, right? The moment where people realize they love someone. I had it.” He says unabashedly, “That’s how I know I don’t care about your past.” He says proudly, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“So you don’t mind that I-”

“A little.” He admits, but he flashes a determined smile at you as he says his next words, “But if you’ve felt that moment, then I know you’re not going anywhere.” He says, and you search his golden orbs for any signs that he’s lying; but there’s none.

He loves you, you realize. He doesn’t care. The moment he’s talking about; you’ve felt it. You feel it every time you’re with him. You love him. The last realization has you throwing yourself across the sofa and into his arms. Bokuto catches you easily, strong arms winding around your frame as he laughs. You can feel his laughter as the rumbles in his chest, and you are hit with an overwhelming wave of affection.

“I’ve felt that moment too.” You mumble into his chest. He laughs again, and you imagine those golden eyes crinkling at the corners, and the whites of his teeth showing beneath a wide smile. “I love you.” You say quietly, but he hears, and his arms tighten around you.

Regret, you think, is the bane of your existence, but it’s also what pushed you to tell Bokuto the truth, so maybe it’s a little helpful after all.

(You and Bokuto get an 89 on your Romeo and Juliet project. The final version turned out much better than what you’d had before – Bokuto had a lot to do with that. When you find out your grade, he peppers your face with small, happy kisses, his hair tickling you as you chuckle gently, and weave your hands into his hair, smiling at him.)

#bokuto kotarou x reader #bokuto x reader #mknet #haikyuucreations #haikyuu x reader #fukurodani #bokuto fluff #soulmate au #haikyuu soulmate au #bokuto x you #bokuto koutarou #bokuto kotarou #raeyn writes #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu writings #bokuto #angst

[wylanvnneck]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could write the angst prompt number 1 with jurdan??🥰

Angst Prompt #1: “The worst part is you didn’t even notice.”

Fandom: TFOTA

Ship: Jurdan

Masterlist | Prompt List

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High pitched giggles peal through the air and the noise makes the 21 year old Cardan Greenbriar wince. He’d been away from his hometown of Elfhame for 2 years now, having happily left it and his controlling family behind after graduation to go live in his dorm room back at Insmire University with his crazy roommates. Yet here he was, back again for a week-long visit in honour of his old friend Locke’s engagement.

He and Locke had never been all that close to begin with, but he had been his oldest friend, and it did seem like a good idea to come back for a bit and see how much things had changed in the years since he’d be gone, which didn’t seem to be all that much. 

Locke was still the same fox-faced wastrel that he had been, except that he was now engaged and the other member of their old gang, Valerian was still as snarky as usual, a perpetual sneer on his face whenever someone attempted to speak to him. Seated at a round outdoors table surrounded by his High School acquaintances, Cardan feels nothing but boredom.

He grips the neck of his wine glass even tighter when he sees the source of the giggling emerge from Locke’s house where his engagement party was being hosted. Taryn Duarte the Bride to Be and her posse of friends strut out into the garden from the inside of the house where they’d been gathered together doing goodness knows what for the past half hour. A glimpse of blue hair catches his eye and he recognises it as belonging to a girl named Nicasia that he used to be friends with back in High School, a million years ago.

Taryn’s six inch heels click against the asphalt of the garden path and the sight of her familiar icy brown eyes and dark hair brings up a volley of almost forgotten feelings within him. Not feelings for the rather cold female before him, but for who she reminded him of. Her twin.

Involuntarily he finds himself scanning the group of women for any sign of Taryn’s sister before coming up short and then chastising himself for looking in the first place. Jude belonged in the past where he had buried her. He takes another sip of the red wine in his hand before shifting his attention back to the conversations happening at his table, a politely unimpressed looking Garrett talked in low tones with his friend Van, both of them engrossed in whatever they were discussing, and a slightly inebriated Valerian was attempting to flirt with the disgusted woman seated next to him. 

Resisting the urge to let out a growl he downs the contents of his glass in one go before standing up to re-enter the house and get a refill, needing some kind of distraction.

He’s just finished pouring some more Merlot into his glass from the otherwise empty bar table when a rustling sound travels from somewhere nearby. He glances up at the staircase by the other end of the room, catching sight of a silky white fabric and dark brown hair before whoever it was disappears from view. Stange, he’d thought all of the other guests were outside. Setting his glass down on the table he climbs up the stairs, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Having reached the landing he searches for any sign of where the person might have gone, walking a little further down the hallway on the left before seeing the big French windows leading out to the balcony flung open, the cool night air drifting in.

Cautiously, he approaches, his body going on high alert when he notices who it is that’s standing out on the balcony, hands loosely clutching the metal rails and face turned up towards the starlit sky. Her chestnut hair is tied in an intricate braid hanging down her back and she’s wearing a slim fitting black top and flowy white pants which sway gently around her legs and she looks even more gorgeous than she had in their High School days. He takes a moment to catch his breath before slowly trudging forwards to join her.

She turns when she hears footsteps approaching, a slight frown marring her expression before she recognises him and it clears. Her gaze is as disarming as it used to be.

"Shit, man, don't just sneak up on people like that," a corner of her lip quirks.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, "Oops, sorry."

“I didn’t know you were coming.” He catches the questioning lilt in her statement.

“It was a last minute kind of thing, I wasn’t sure if I’d be coming either, until yesterday.”

She nods and he positions himself next to her but at a safe distance, one hand coming to rest carelessly on the balcony rail next to hers.

He watches her let out a soft whoosh of breath, looking down at the garden where people were now dancing to the music that had started playing on the expensive speaker set under the bright fairy lights. There’s laughter and cigarette smoke wafting upwards, but from their little spot up above, everything seemed to be much farther away than it really was. 

Eventually, he breaks the silence. “So, Taryn and Locke, huh?”

“Yep.” She replies. The look on her face is one he can’t quite decipher.

He clears his throat and speaks in a tight voice. “Are you...upset by that? I know you and Locke used to be close.” 

He recalls the rumour that used to fly around during their senior year, people whispering about Jude and Locke having a thing. He also remembers the sharp pain that he’d felt when he’d heard that Locke had asked Jude to be his date to their Senior prom and that she’d accepted. Cardan vaguely remembers asking Nicasia to be his date to that very same prom, but the only thing that comes to mind when he thinks about that night is the haze of jealousy that had clouded his mind when he’d seen Locke twirling a grinning Jude around the dance floor.

“Me and Locke? God no. He was just a friend. Although, I think even that was only because he kept showing up and trying to talk to me in Senior Year for no apparent reason.” 

Cardan feels a surprisingly strong sense of relief wash over him at the fact that Jude was never interested in Locke that way, before his eyebrows knit together a moment later. He’d drunkenly confessed his ginormous crush on Jude to Locke at the start of their senior year, and immediately regretted it the next day. It wouldn’t surprise him if Locke had been cozying up to Jude simply to get on his nerves. It definitely seemed like something the manipulative scoundrel would do.

Not that it mattered anymore. Years had passed and he’d probably lost his chance. If he’d ever had the chance in the first place.

“I heard you’ve been off at uni all this time. Insmire, huh?” Her words are light but he’s slightly astonished that she’d been keeping track of where he’d been for the past few years. 

“Yeah, it was the break I needed.”

“What are you studying?”

“My dad wanted me to do Business for when I inherit his company, but I’m also doing a course on Classical and Ancient Languages, purely because I wanted to.”

“That’s great, Cardan.” Her sincerity is clear. “I remember how controlling your dad was. It’s great that you’re finally getting to be your own person.”

He’s sure that his astonishment at her words is blatantly obvious because a barely detectable flush travels up her neck and she averts her gaze. Not only had Jude Duarte been keeping track of where he’d been, she’d also noticed his strained relationship with his father all those years ago. A thrill rises up inside of him.

“Thank you.” He pauses. “So what have you been up to these days?” he asks, like he hasn’t been checking her social media pages at least once every few months, unwittingly grinning whenever he came across one of her rare posts with her and her few friends hanging out together outside of her own University in Nightfell. 

“Oh, same as you actually, getting a taste of independence at Uni. Doing a course on Criminal Justice.”

“That sounds amazing. Tell me all about it.”

And she does, her eyes lighting up as she talks about a subject that she enjoys studying and half of his attention is taken up by what she’s saying and the other half is just focused on her, on the way the moon illuminates one half of her and how the breeze is playing with a few loose strands of her hair and the way her mouth is moving whilst she speaks. They chat for what feels like ages before the conversation eventually flows to a comfortable halt and they hear the clanging of plates and glasses below as the other guests start on dinner, and he knows they’ll have to leave this place of idyll at some point.

He hates that. That they’re on borrowed time and that they were separated by too many years and very separate lives for their situation to be anything different now. And yet, he needs to tell her, to let her know, even if it can’t change anything.

“You know, back in High School I used to daydream about this. You and I, just talking.” He knows that the tips of his ears are probably flaming red, just like the rest of his head, but he forces himself not to look down and to keep meeting her stare. Her eyes widen when she registers what he’d said.

“I-What?” Her shock is apparent.

He breaks eye contact with her, withdrawing his hand from the spot next to hers on the rail, the disappointment coursing through him undeniable. He’d known that she’d never noticed him, but it still hurt to see the bafflement in her reaction.  

“I had a crush on you for ages, pathetic pining and all, and the worst part is you didn’t even notice.”

She flounders, mouth slightly agape, for once not having a response and the smile that curls his lips is one without mirth.

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you Jude,” he grits out, swiftly turning in an attempt to flee with what was left of his dignity.

He’d made it to the top of the staircase before hearing her voice calling after him. 

“Cardan! Cardan wait, goddammit.”

Reluctantly, he stops, bracing himself for the awkwardness of the next few minutes. She’d look at him with pity, explain to him that she wasn’t interested, or maybe that she had someone else. That last thought lances through him like a punch to the gut. During his self-indulgent social media searches he had never seen any posts that indicated that there was someone special in her life, but that didn’t necessarily mean that there wasn’t anyone. After all, Jude Duarte was a special type of woman, the type of woman that you fought for.

Too bad that he’d figured that out too late.

The sound of her boots clacking on the floor gets closer and closer and he turns around just in time for her to throw her arms around his neck and drag his head down to connect their lips, their noses bumping together in the process. Time stops, and his every High School fantasy comes true when he feels her tangle her tongue with his and it’s a little sloppy at first, especially since she had caught him off guard, but they find their rhythm and flames lick through his entire being. Frantically, he grabs a hold of her waist and pushes her until she’s against the wall, her fingers coming up to tangle in his locks as he strokes her sides.

She pulls away to breathe and they’re both panting harshly as if they had run a marathon. 

“I had a crush on you too. I hated it and I tried to fight it because you used to pick on me in middle school.” 

Had he? It was so long ago that he really couldn’t remember, but he also knew that he was precisely the type of person who’d want to hurt the girl that got under his skin.

“Really?” He grins ruefully.

“Yes, really.” She reaches up and playfully smacks the back of his head before carding her fingers through his hair in the same spot to soothe it.

‘Well, my middle school self humbly begs for your forgiveness.” He leans forward and presses their foreheads together, locking his gaze with hers.

“Apology accepted.”

And then they’re kissing once more. He may not have been prepared for a moment like this, but he was sure as hell going to hold on to it and never let go.

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

Some soft boi Cardan for you lovely peeps. I hope you see this and that you enjoy, Anon. Thanks for the ask!

Tagging: @cupcakesandkittens , @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln, @thewickedkings , @kittkatandbooboo , @min-unicorn, @fangirlprincess09, @thefolkofthefic

Let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off of the tag list🌻

#dd writes #jurdan #jude × cardan #tfota #tfota fic #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #fanficion #the folk of the air #taryn duarte #locke #valerian #holly black #tcp #the cruel prince #twk #the wicked king #tqon #the queen of nothing #anon #fanfiction #the folk of the air fanfiction #send me a prompt <3 #tw swearing #tw smoking #queue of nothing

[wolf-and-bard]

Resigned To Fate

Prompt: Memory Alteration / Gaslighting

Relationships: Guxart/Vesemir (from one of the witcher-centric cards), Lambert/Aiden (background)

Rating: M

Content Warnings: heavy angst, suicidal tendencies, grief, mild gore, self-harm allusions

Summary: In the aftermath of the betrayal of the Cat school, Vesemir has not only his own school to hold together, but also a traumatised lover to care for. In which: Vesemir is strong and Guxart is weak and they find it hard to meet in the middle.

Word Count: ~2k

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo​

I.

Witchers survive.

Witchers endure.

Witchers outlast.

No matter the tragedy that befalls them or how difficult the contract. When they're being persecuted and beaten, starved and denied basic human decency. There's always a way forward.

Survive. Endure. Outlast.

Those are the thoughts Vesemir clings to, each sentiment falling as a whisper from his cracked and splintered lips to puddle at his blood- and gut-soaked feet, each word accompanied by the low wheeze of his shovel penetrating dry earth.

He couldn't fight for them, has to bury them. All of them.

He doesn't cry like the pups do, they haven't yet understood.

This is no genocide. This is merely a manifestation of what has been a long time coming, a natural course of history.

Vesemir cradles that truth tight to his chest. He survives, endures, outlasts. It's his birthright, duty, privilege, honour, burden, curse, cure, calling, punishment. It's a law of nature, the first one the new recruits learn when coming to the keep.

Nothing breaks Vesemir.

II.

When the wolves all sleep, the living in bed rolls pushed together in the great hall, the dead in their forever resting places of hard-packed dirt, the new day is already sloshing over the horizon in waves of muted scarlet. Vesemir finds no beauty in that, he doesn't think he will find any beauty in and around Kaer Morhen ever again. All that was tranquil about this place has been soaked in blood and so, it seems, has the sky. He fills a pack with their sorry dinner's leftovers - stale bread, hard cheese, dried berries - foregoes the soup and the spirits. Two deerskins of water and a faded quilt blanket. It smells like cinnamon and honey, like comfort he hopes. It's not cold enough to warrant any kind of coat yet, but halfway across the courtyard, Vesemir finds himself shivering. He unpacks the blanket and wraps it around his own shoulders, then briskly walks out of the keep's enclosures, the sun a cool caress on his stained cheeks. He's never hated her more than in that moment.

III.

She follows him even into the dingy half-dark of the outpost's only bedroom. The curtains are drawn, the room lit by a single artificial torch, but Vesemir finds another echo of the red horizon in Guxart's eyes as they meet his across the few paces that separate them. Seeing him is somehow still a bit of a surprise.

Guxart doesn't look haggard and wrung-out the way Vesemir knows he himself does. In the wake of their shared misery - the imprisonment, the wait, the release to find their schools in ruin and their charges mostly dead or mutilated - Vesemir aged a century while Guxart is frozen in time, barely more than a shell of the witcher Vesemir begrudgingly fell in love with.

His salt-and-pepper hair falls in curls just below his ears and his greyed beard looks freshly groomed, obscuring the permanent tremble of his lips, pressed together to contain the creature of mourning that grows in his chest. His slitted pupils are constantly thin so that they nearly drown in the red hue of his irises. There are but two things about Guxart that have changed in their trudge through agony - in physicality that is. He is pale now - almost as pale as Vesemir, who always used to look like a wraith next to Guxart's light-brown skin - and his voice has lost all its natural thunder. A husk, yes. But not irrevocably so.

Guxart may be broken, but Vesemir is barely more than cracked and he can hold it together for the two of them.

"Ves," Guxart croaks from his perch on the bed and Vesemir doesn't pretend like this is a happy meeting. He draws the door shut behind himself and opens the curtains with a precise blast of Aard. The light that filters in is grimy still and Guxart turns his back on it. It's the only thing he can do. In an act of protection, born from love, Vesemir had to shackle Guxart's wrists and ankles, just so the other witcher wouldn't hurt himself. Last time, Vesemir was nearly too late and that is not something he will stand to experience again. It's a precarious arrangement, temporary, but Vesemir didn't know how else to help either Guxart of himself. Bringing him to the keep would have been certain death for them both.

"I brought food."

"I'm not hungry."

Vesemir puts the pack down by the window and slips out of his boots, then crawls up on the bed and drapes the quilt over both their legs. The sight of it puts his gut in a twist.

This is where he used to let go. Relax his shoulders and drop the teacher, the torturer. Just be. Guxart gave that to him and he to Guxart. Had he any imagination, he would let his head fall to the brick behind himself and close his eyes, imagine it's just another morning after a night spent tangled up in each other, relishing dawn's kiss and each other's presence.

Vesemir is exceptionally bad at self-delusion.

"Will you have water?" he asks. Guxart shakes his head, remaining in his strained position, even when Vesemir jerks his chin to the side in an invitation to sidle up to him.

Guxart, for his part, is exceptionally bad at accepting love and pain at the same time.

"I'm not thirsty."

"Fine," Vesemir replies and they look at each other. It's not a staring contest like they sometimes held across the training fields when their students were locked in combat. It's searching for some remnant of joy and coming up short.

"There's dirt under your nails," Guxart murmurs without breaking the eye contact. "You buried them."

"I did."

"Mine also?"

"They took them back to the Camp."

Vesemir can still hear the hisses of cats, wolves, and swords alike as the witchers collected the bodies of their fallen comrades to separate and honour them. Vesemir suspects that what he feels for Guxart will be the last love ever lost between the two schools.

"It's all my fault."

"Come here," Vesemir says, keeping his tone levelled, understanding. He opens his arms a fraction, a more blatant invitation.

Finally, Guxart slumps against Vesemir, a heaving dead weight. Vesemir brings his arms around Guxart and presses his face into his curls. He finds little comfort there and lots of reminders to all that he lost at the hands of Treyse and Radowit's damned mage. Guxart presses into Vesemir with all the strength his restrained body can muster. They don't fit together quite so well anymore.

"They gave me a choice," Guxart says. "They gave me a choice."

"What choice?" Vesemir asks, mouth dry. He blinks rapidly as he rubs soothing circles over Guxart's sharp shoulder blades. In a moment here, he will have to think about how to feed the other witcher against his will, a painstaking process. Why keep at it?

Because he has to.

Nothing breaks Vesemir.

"They took me away one night," Guxart continues. "When you were asleep. They took me away and told me how I was to arrange it. Their death sentence. And they gave me a choice."

"What. Choice."

"They said they would spare them. All of them, all of our beautiful pups and kittens. They said if I throttled you, they wouldn't make me act out the treaty. It's why we were put in the same cell after that first week."

No such thing happened.

Vesemir knows.

He feared for their schools during their time in Radowit's dungeons, but his mind was sharp always, awake and waiting. Even then, he knew of Guxart's tendencies to slip from reality into madness fashioned by others. A consequence of the meddled-with cat mutagens perhaps, or a personal disposition. Doesn't matter. What does is that Vesemir was awake in the cell opposite - never sharing, never touching - watching his lover pass from one fever dream into the next as they kept him drugged, whispering to him, sentiments Vesemir himself managed to deflect when the guards - or his own mind - threw them at him.

This is your fault.

You brought this upon them, mutant scum.

They will die for your sins.

Nothing. Breaks. Vesemir.

"A lie," Vesemir sighs and presses his lips to Guxart's scalp. The other witcher shudders and the worst part about this is that he knows they will have this conversation again. And again. And each time, Guxart will believe a little less.

"They were our children, Ves. They were our children and I betrayed them. Traded their life for yours. If you had been given the same choice, would you have been strong enough?"

They both know the answer to that. If it had been between Guxart and his wolves, Vesemir wouldn't have hesitated to kill his lover. But that is entirely beside the point.

"There was never such a choice and what happened is not your fault."

"But it is. My fault. I spared you. And then I went on to kill them all. Treyse, he tried to stop me once we got out, but I gave the command anyway. We could have stood together, could have flattened all Kaedwen to dust, but I was greedy. I wanted you and the reward. I wanted... I wanted..."

Nothing ever. Breaks...

"You're talking nonsense. We were only released after the massacre took place, remember? Treyse was the one to commit treason, he gave that command."

"I have to die," Guxart says numbly. He doesn't listen now and his bound hands paw at Vesemir's thighs. "I have to die. You have to kill me."

"No."

"Please, I cannot live with this pain. Knowing it was all my fault, I cannot... how can you?"

Vesemir closes his eyes. Nothing. Nothing has yet broken him.

IV.

There is no containing Guxart forever. Vesemir knows this, Guxart knows this.

He waits, tends to his lover until such a time that he feels he's coaxed Guxart away from the brink of self-destruction at least. At the end, most of what hangs between them is fatigue and resentment, indistinguishable from the scraps of nostalgic affection they yet harbour. Vesemir does not remember what it felt like to love without care. He has to let go.

"I'm sorry, Ves," Guxart says when it's time to part, a whisper over Vesemir's lips in what will likely be their last ever kiss. "I know you mean well, but I cannot believe you. I have to repent."

There is no penance for a crime uncommitted. The only forgiveness you should want for is mine once you leave me here to grief on my own. You will wander and you will weaken and you will wither. Nothing will break me like you will, the moment you fade from sight.

Vesemir bites down on these thoughts. They're silly, selfish, and he is neither.

"Take care of yourself."

Guxart nods and turns and walks away.

And Vesemir doesn't break.

V.

Decades pass.

Vesemir fixes up whatever fissures did sneak up on him, he remains whole, he moves on.

Guxart may be out there, he may not. Vesemir will never know what fate Guxart has resigned himself to and that is acceptable.

It is acceptable.

Until the day Lambert comes home, announcing that he has given and lost his heart to a young cat by name of Aiden. He howls through the night and Vesemir holds him, the way he himself needed to be held back then perhaps, and he understands that all the glue he has been applying to his own heart was a sorry fake.

Vesemir has been broken for a long, long time.

And once he accepts that, he feels the years fall off his shoulders like leaves from an old tree, preparing for another winter. Possibly its last.

#the witcher #witcher #tw3 #my writing #vesemir x guxart #vesemir #guxart #radowit #lambert #aiden #lambden #treyse #post-tournament #grief #angst #pain #much hurt little comfort #tw suicidal thoughts #cw suicidal thoughts #gaslighting #altered memory #once more I'm not sure this works with the prompt #but I suppose there is some memory alteration here #now I want to write more about this ship hmmm #I'm thinking a rom-com type situation: they're teachers from rival schools #they hate each other #they fight constantly about sword stances #then their students lock them into the weapons chamber together #and they bang #happily ever after

[lyrabythelake]

Dear Malon

I wrote this short fic a while ago for an LU zine but realised I haven’t posted it anywhere else, so here you go!

Dear Malon,

I can only hope these letters are finding you. Admittedly, I haven’t had much experience with time-travelling postmen before, nor do I know anyone who has, so my faith in his reliability is limited. However, I do like to imagine my words have reached you, that you know I am safe and well and that I am on a wondrous journey with friends by my side. I know how you worry.

It seems like months since I last wrote, though I know it’s been only days. Our ultimate purpose on this quest is still unclear but the boys never lose hope. They fight with a determination unparalleled by anyone I’ve met and every day I become prouder of them still.

Occasionally I am filled with dread at the way they look up to me as their leader. It’s a great honour that they see me that way, but I am terrified I won’t fulfil their expectations of me. I wake in a cold sweat each night, the afterimages of each of them in harm’s way because of my negligence burned into my mind…

“He’s writing again.”

Eight heroes sit under the cherry blossoms in the still afternoon. The trees are in full bloom and the pink petals fall gently into the deeply grassed meadow and the trickling stream, washed away in a rush of fresh silver water.

They look to the ninth at Four’s words, hunched over the paper with his hair falling over his face, shielding him in his concentration towards the words he writes. Petals rest in his hair, on his clothes but their gentle presence doesn’t catch his notice, nor do the other heroes’ muttering only meters away. His sword is within reaching distance, always prepared for an attack, but otherwise he is a picture of peace, one the others dare not disturb for its rareness.

“Where do you think he sends them?” Hyrule asks in innocent curiosity. It is a question -among others- they’ve all asked themselves at one time or another. They have their theories, even discussed them at times when Time himself isn’t around.

“I bet they’re love letters,” Sky muses, his wistful gaze undeterred from the Hero of Time and the scratching of his quill.

“What? No way,” scoffs Wind. He is not quite as versed in love as some of the others, but he is practiced in the art of longing and desire.

Warriors is the first to raise his eyebrows.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“He’s never talked about anyone before,” Wild argues.

“So?” interjects Legend, “not everyone likes to flaunt their love affairs like the Captain.”

“I don’t flaunt anything!”

“The old man keeps his emotions close to his heart,” murmurs Twilight, drawing the attention of them all despite the softness of his words, “Love is beautiful yet fleeting, like the cherry blossoms in spring. He’s right to treasure it and keep it close.”

“Uh oh, the ranch hand’s off again,” snorts Wild and there is a ripple of laughter in response.

“I think it’s nice he has someone to write to,” states Hyrule and the others agree. They’ve all known the wasteland of loneliness at some point in their lives and it has left its scars on them all.

It is a while before Time, lost in a world of his own, puts his quill down and gets to his feet. He folds the paper neatly into four and slips it into the deepest of his pockets, away from prying eyes and ready to hand over to the postman whenever they might see him next.

His thoughts drift and swirl like the blossom petals that fall around him, content and serene with just an ounce of sorrow like that which comes with the ephemerality of spring. The others’ lighthearted chatter dips and bays as he treads along the bank of the rushing stream.

He thinks of his wife, worlds away, and wonders what she is doing. Wonders if he’ll ever get to see her again.

Dear Malon,

This time of year reminds me of you.

It was around this time, many years ago, that I married you with a promise that the worst of my adventures were over. That from then on, my life would be simple, wrapped in safety with the woman I love. I think you knew back then that it was a promise I could never keep. I could run from it forever, but adventure always seems to find me.

This adventure is different to the others I’ve been on. With the boys here each battle comes with a new terror I never felt when fighting on my own, though I am certain I wouldn’t be alive today without them.

The responsibility I feel for them goes beyond just our age difference and the mutual respect we afford one another. I never called myself a hero. That title has been forced upon me despite my assurances that I couldn’t be further from it. I look at Hyrule and Legend sometimes and the others that have suffered, even if not directly, from my hand and feel all their suffering and sorrow tenfold in the form of heavy guilt…

“I think we should go south.”

Legend’s statement is met with confusion from most and narrowed eyes from Time, an expression missed by all but Legend himself.

“Why south?” asks Warriors curiously. Legend is grateful his words are not dismissed immediately. He supposes it’s not often he makes bold suggestions such as this one without proper reason to do so, so it’s bound to draw their attention. He may have the experience, but he has no qualms in leaving the day-to-day leadership and tactics to Time, Twilight and Warriors.

“I have a good feeling about it,” he replies confidently, like the argument he’s giving isn’t totally redundant.

“You have… a good feeling…”

“Yes. It’s not like we have anywhere we particularly need to be.”

“Don’t you think we should go to the castle?” suggests Twilight, prompting a collective look to Time for the final decision. He knows this land best after all.

Time’s frown has become increasingly more pronounced throughout the brief debate, his eyes fixed on Legend suspiciously.

“Let’s go south,” he decides eventually, his gaze not leaving Legend, missing the way Twilight raises his eyebrows but otherwise holds his tongue. As they set off, Time falls into step beside Legend, his gait revealing nothing of the emotions Legend expects he is feeling.

“You had no right to read it,” he says after a while, and his voice is not angry but rather fiercely neutral.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Perhaps I would have believed you if the letter hadn’t mysteriously disappeared from my jacket this morning.”

Legend says nothing. He was sure he had got away with it. His curiosity had momentarily surpassed his guilt long enough to sneak a glance at the heartfelt (and very private) scribbled note before returning it to the old man’s jacket when he was distracted.

It took a simple question to a merchant in the castle town after that to determine the whereabouts of one ‘Lon Lon Ranch’.

Dear Malon, the letter had said, and in his haste to read it, Legend had almost mistaken the scrawled name for someone else’s entirely.

We moved between worlds again last night and the nine of us have found ourselves somewhere very familiar to me. My first thought was to drop any heroic duties and run to you there and then before it struck me how selfish that would be.

You see, homesickness is a perpetual ailment among the boys (and myself) and they have given up so much to embark on this journey with no discernible end. I cannot in good conscience refute that to return to our Lon Lon Ranch. It kills me to do so, particularly as all I can think of is seeing you again…

 The boys are inevitably curious about the purposeful path Time leads them along, but he can’t quite bring himself to answer their inquisitiveness with a succinct answer. He has a one-track mind, all thoughts geared towards the relief of his destination and all other sounds fade into the background to make way for it.

They reach the ranch before nightfall, his companions’ confusion only increasing at the sight of the woman standing outside it. The way he falls into her arms is answer enough; the warmth of her embrace has never felt so inviting.

The others’ voices are a mere echo of disbelief, hilarity and the ending of bets behind him as he focuses on the relief and utter contentment that comes with being home after far too long. The stress of the past weeks, the constant worry for the boys and their respective worlds, melt from him immediately, leaving him as light as a feather.

The Hero of Time has never been one for excessive emotions, but as he clings to the familiarity of his wife, he almost thinks he could cry.

“Did you get them?” he asks, hesitantly, “the letters?”

Her smile is like the sun as she whispers back.

“I treasure every one.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #time/malon #loveletters #fanfic #lyra writes

[ryoceann]

J2 Fanfic Rec List <3

In honour of all the j2 content we have recieved, and the amount of fanfiction I have read, I decided to make a rec-list nobody asked me for but EVERYONE has to read k? Capiche? Make sure to heed the warnings, and read the tags. These are some beautiful gems by very talented authors and I’ve only scratched the surface of it.

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The Courtship Of Jensen’s Co-Star{Masterpost} by qblackheart-  

Summary:- Somewhere in the time between a handshake and a hug, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki went from being reel-life brothers to real-life best friends, and complete strangers to cosmic soul mates, no rhyme or reason to it that either of them could ever see. Jared was everything Jensen was not: friendly, funny, and full of life; one in six-point-whatever billion the Earth’s population currently stood at. Life was awesome. Work was amazing. Everything was fine until Jared kissed Jensen. Everything was peachy until Jensen fell in love. With desperate times unexpectedly calling for desperate measures, Jensen called Chad Michael Murray for relationship advice – because being in love led to temporary insanity obviously – so it really didn't surprise him that he couldn’t seem to win when it came to wooing Jared. Still, Pisces must’ve been in a really good place in the night sky or something because suddenly, right smack dab in the middle of the miserable courtship of his co-star, Jensen discovered that maybe loving Jared was all he needed to do to win his heart. And luckily for Jensen, loving Jared was also the one thing he did best. ~112k~

The Play Nice Proviso{Masterpost} by qblackheart-

Summary:- When Jensen Ackles first met Jared Padalecki, it was most definitely not love at first sight. It wasn’t even like at first sight. In fact, Jensen hated him, and he had a few good reasons as to why. So what if his new co-star was oblivious to his one-sided warfare? Jensen could deal. Apart from when he couldn’t. So when it came down to picking between Padalecki and his peace of mind, the choice seemed clear. Except for the fact that The Network had his balls in a vice, leaving him stuck with Supernatural, stuck with his idiot co-star, and worst of all, stuck with a ‘Play Nice’ Proviso added to his contract. Well, he could play nice. He would play so nice that the world was going to think that he and Jared Padalecki were the bestest friends in the history of best friends. It was unfortunate then that no one had ever told Jensen what happened when an immovable object met an irresistible force; no one had ever thought to mention that there was a thin line between hate and love; and nothing, absolutely nothing, could have possibly prepared him for Playing Nice with Jared Padalecki. ~70k~

And The Rest, As They Say Is History by Raina_at-

Summary:- Struggling actor Jensen takes a job as big-shot movie star Jared Padalecki’s dogsitter. And the rest, as they say, is history. ~17k~

reinventing love ‘verse{Masterpost} by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- With high school graduation less than two weeks away, best friends Jared and Jensen find themselves scrambling to tie up a few loose ends before they’re forced into adulthood. Jared ropes Jensen into helping him get the alcohol for Sandy's graduation party, and what should be a simple night of partying ends up turning into a series of mishaps and misunderstandings that all come to head when Jensen finally tells Jared the secret he wasn't ever planning on spilling. If high school has to end, they're going out with a bang. (A J2 spin on the movie Superbad)  ~200k+~

My Heart Don’t Beat The Way It Used To by Raina_at- 

Summary:- Jared and Jensen have been best friends forever, and nothing’s going to ever change that, not even senior slump, or college anxieties, or even Jared getting an annoying cheerleader girlfriend. Or so Jensen thought. ~26k~

Can’t Point The Way To Your Heart by Belyste-

Summary:- AU in the vein of movies like Hitch - Jensen's an unofficial advice guru, and Jared's his latest project. Except while Jensen's supposed to be helping Jared end up with the woman of his dreams, he falls for him instead. ~33k~

Something Borrowed, Something Blue by Belyste-

Summary:- When Jared desperately needs a date for his brother's wedding, he hires an escort. Jensen's the perfect fake boyfriend, except pretty soon things get a little too real. Based on The Wedding Date. ~38k~

True Colors by muni-playground-

Summary:- Jared is a mentally challenged young man with a very special gift. Jensen is an executive with nothing in his life but work. They meet by accident and discover a connection that defies explanation. ~32k~

The Billionaire’s Reluctant Husband by house_of_lantis-

Summary:- Billionaire Jensen is a playboy and he needs a husband pronto if he wants to keep his company and his inheritance. After a chance meeting with quiet and hardworking Jared, Jensen decides that he’s found the perfect candidate. The arrogant Jensen thinks he’s got Jared in the bag, but when his new husband refuses to sleep with him and doesn’t really even seem to like him, Jensen convinces himself that he’s happy with his open marriage lifestyle. But Jensen becomes increasingly obsessed with his new husband and discovers the truth behind Jared’s dark past. ~98k~

Project Get Jared Banged{Masterpost} by soulmatecest-

Summary:- Jared's had the best stepbrother in the world in Jensen since the age of five — growing up together and more attached than usual brothers would —, only realizing that he’s in love with Jensen by the time he hits thirteen. After five more years of Jared's impossible crush, he knows his life turns and spins around his brother. Luckily for Jared, he and Jensen have always been closer than other siblings, making his feelings seem a little less hopeless. Or that is until Jensen announces he’s moving to Austin to live with his girlfriend next year, leaving Jared's perfectly built Jensen-centric world crashing to the ground. That’s when Chad and Sandy decide to convince Jared that moving on and letting go of his feelings are the only way to get through his lost love for Jensen. Yet their plan to get Jared out of his shell and over his stepbrother doesn't sit well with one person: Jensen himself, who realizes that the more Jared tries to pull away, the more he wants to get him back closer. ~120k~

Burn The Land and Boil The Sea by nyxocity-

Summary:- Eight years ago, Jared spent his entire summer on a tropical island off the coast of Mexico with Jensen. He fell head over heels for Jensen, but their lives were going separate directions at the end of the summer, and they never quite got together. Jensen left for Greenpeace and Jared went off to college—but he never truly got over Jensen. Now, in present day, Jared is a marine biologist working on a project in the gorgeous panhandle of Alaska. He’s amazed to discover the captain of the ship he’s chartered is none other than Jensen Ackles himself. Jared’s overjoyed, but Jensen is less than thrilled—he’s a changed man since that summer so long ago; withdrawn, passionless and solitary. Still something of the bond between them remains, and neither of them seem to be able to escape its pull completely. When Jared’s project leads them into danger and leaves them running and fighting for their lives, Jensen’s secrets begin to come out, drawing them back together—but can they survive long enough to figure out this thing between them? ~53k~

As This Sunset Turns to Morning{Masterpost} by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- Jensen spends his life hiding who he is from the family that would never accept him if they knew. When he’s uprooted in the middle of his senior year and suddenly becomes the new kid, his carefully placed mask begins to slip. Especially when he meets Jared – a loud, outspoken spectacle of a boy that fights for everything Jensen was taught to stand against. Jared has no problem going after what he wants, and now it’s just a matter of Jensen letting himself do the same. ~86k~

Leave My Heart Out of This by elless18- (link to the timestamps)

Summary:- AU. Jensen needs to get married in order to get his grandfather’s inheritance and open his own law firm. Jared would do anything to help his best friend. The plan is simple- pretend to date, get married, get the inheritance, get divorced. But things grow complicated when one of them starts falling for his fake boyfriend. Can they find their happily-ever-after from all the lies they’ve built around them? ~35k+~

Who Watches Over Me? by nyoxicity-

Summary:- Jensen Ackles is an ex-Navy SEAL turned civilian bodyguard with a mysterious past. Jared Padalecki is a flamboyant Hollywood star known for his action movies who's been receiving death threats. The case sounds like Jensen's idea of a nightmare, and he takes it on against his better judgment. Jared drags him to clubs and parties and award ceremonies without any care for how difficult he's making Jensen's job, and to his complete lack of surprise, they hate each other. But when hate changes into passion, it begins to reveal something deeper between them, and Jensen realizes he's in over his head. Can he still do his job and keep Jared safe? Or will he fall prey to his greatest fear and fail someone... again? ~96k~

The Billionaire’s Bidding by Raina_at-

Summary:- When idle, slacking billionaire’s son Jensen Ackles lends a helping hand to his old childhood friend, he gets a lot more than he’s bargained for. ~31k~

Hold My Whipped Cream by dimpleforyourthoughts-

Summary:- International Best Selling Author Jensen Ackles is all kinds of specific with the details of his life. He likes privacy, writing, and coffee; black, no sugar, hold the cream. He’s become a fixture at the local coffee shop, writing from his table every day for the past two years. His vices include routine, neatness, and structure. Jensen doesn’t do messes. Then there is Jared, recent post-grad basket case, who’s been coming in every day for caffeine he doesn’t need and bringing the increasing disaster in his life with him. Jared is a mess in all the ways Jensen is not and so Jensen offers to help Jared in the only way he knows how: by buying Jared a cup of coffee. ~37k~

Operation: Mistletoe by dimpleforyourthoughts-

Summary:- FBI Agent Jensen Ackles is a damn good agent, but his devil-may-care attitude, gut instinct, and sheer dumb luck have finally run out. With his job and reputation on the line, Jensen is assigned to a new partner: the overzealous and overachieving Agent Jared Padalecki. Their mission: Infiltrate a ring of drug dealers hiding out in Suburbia in the midst of the Holiday season. The only catch? They have to pretend to be head-over-heels in love with each other. ~39k~

Regaining Sense{Masterpost} by astri13-

Summary:- A vengeful crime-boss cost Jensen not only his eyesight but also a promising career with the FBI. When the man resurfaces two years later, Jensen is not thrilled to find himself taken into protective custody, even less so when the Agent in charge turns out to be Jensen's former partner and boyfriend, Jared Padalecki. Will the two men be able to overcome their differences and work together to not only stop the bad guy but also uncover the mole in their own ranks before it is too late? ~27k~

Say You’re Mine by Belyste-

Summary:- It takes his two best friends getting engaged to make Jared realize what’s missing in his own life, but once he figures it out, he’s a man on a mission: find true love or die trying. He’s not asking for much – just the perfect soul mate to spend blissful eternity with – so when a chance meeting drops Jensen into his life (and his lap), it seems like fate. But either Jensen missed that memo or fate seems to have other ideas, because nothing works out the way Jared planned. Based loosely on S1 of How I Met Your Mother, but you don't need to have seen that to know what's going on. ~56k~

Absence From Those We Love by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- Jensen Ackles led a great life. It just wasn’t the one he planned on. Now he’s newly single, stuck at a job he hates, and sharing an apartment with his lovably psychotic best friend. When he’s given the chance to go back and do it all over again, he leaps at it. Only he soon comes to realize that no matter what’s in front of him, it’s impossible to leave the past behind. Considering what he’d be giving up, he might not even want to. (17 Again - J2 Style.) ~41k~

Change The Fate’s Design by _mournthewicked-

Summary:-  All Jensen has ever wanted to do is see the ocean. Unfortunately, that's kind of hard to do when your dad won't let you leave your house in the forest because of your magical powers. So, Jensen spends most of his days with no one but his pet hedgehog to keep him company. At least, until a guy named Jared stumbles along and offers to help him realize his dream. (A J2 spin on Disney's Tangled.) ~50k~

A Spotlight On These Desolate Dreams{Masterpost} by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- In high school, Jared Padalecki had it all. He was surrounded with rich, famous, beautiful friends and partied with young Hollywood's elite. As if all of that wasn't exciting enough, he used the tricks he learned from his grandfather to become an amateur sleuth with his billionaire best friend, Jensen Ackles, playing the role of trusty sidekick. But when he got in over his head and lost everything he once held dear, he knew that it was time to move on. That was ten years ago. Now he lives the lonely life of a hardboiled private investigator on the streets of Manhattan, and his fabulous past is nothing but a distant memory. That is, until a tragedy forces him to return to California and the world he left behind. Between juggling rabid paparazzi, sarcastic detectives, and a spurned ex-best friend, it's a wonder that he can possibly find the time to solve a murder that has left the city of angels reeling. ~50k~

Break Me, Shake Me, Hate Me, Take Me Over by orphan_account- (sorry, I can’t access the author’s account but the story’s link still works!)

Summary:- When recklessness, alcohol and a bullet to his hip sees his police career end in disgrace, alpha Jensen Ackles resigns himself to a life spent in the dregs of a bottle, aimless and filled with regrets, watching as the bills and eviction notices pile up. That is, until he's offered a job and lodging with beta lawyer Samantha Smith, as a pseudo bouncer/admin worker. It's a far cry from his previous life, but it might just be what Jensen needs to drag himself from the dark place he's in. Not only that, but little does Jensen realise that taking on the position will bring him face to face with his biggest regret; the person he walked away from three years ago in what was the worst mistake of his life... ~70k~

Whiskey River, You’re All I Got by whisperedstory-

Summary:-  Jensen's life revolves around The Whiskey Sour, the bar he inherited from his grandfather nine years ago. But with too few customers and not nearly enough profit, things are taking a turn for the worse. And then Jared Padalecki walks into Jensen's life and changes everything. ~19k~

Out Of The Silence by annie46-

Summary:-  When hardened, but lonely cop, Jensen Ackles meets Jared Padalecki in his family’s diner, he doesn’t realise that his life is about to change drastically. Jared is a complete innocent, deaf, mute and unable to communicate, he needs a friend. Can Jensen be that man? ~the word count wasn’t mentioned but if i had to take a guess, I’d say something between 20k and 30k~

The Execution Of The Last Steal by soulmatecest-

Summary:- Anyone who meets Jared Padalecki would think he has the perfect life: a college degree, a normal life and an apparently perfect fiancé, Stephen Amell, the son of a Senator with a bright future. Except for one thing: it’s all based on a lie. Five years ago, he created a new identity for himself to cut all ties to his criminal past and ex-boyfriend Jensen Ackles, a world-renowned thief. But Jared can’t run forever. A threat from his past comes back looking for him and the only person who can help him is the man he thought he left behind forever, the only person Jared’s never been able to forget. Incredibly charming and just as cocky, Jensen Ackles is a thief that is too good at his job for his own good, who would do anything to protect Jared now that his life is in danger. Years have gone by, but he has never been able to forget Jared either. And perhaps now that they are forced to escape together, Jensen might be able to do what he’s best at: steal Jared’s heart one last time and win back the only person Jensen has ever loved. ~97k~

Bring Me To Life by alienat-

Summary:-  Jared’s a shy young man, whose life has never been easy. His father hates him, his mother drinks her sorrows away and his husband Paul treats him like he is nothing more than a beautiful toy. When his husband has to go away on a business trip to Europe for two months, he sends Jared away to a ranch in the middle of nowhere to keep him under control. There, Jared meets people who show him what love, friendship and loyalty mean for the first time in his life. Can he escape his life and finally find some love and happiness for himself? ~81k~

Gunpoint{Series} by felisblanco-

Summary:-  Jensen got his childhood stolen away from him when he was ten years old. Along with his memory, his voice and every emotion that wasn’t fear, hatred or anger. Question is, can Jared help him get any of it back? And more importantly, does Jensen really want him to?

Election Day by morganaDW(morgana07)-

Summary:- Jensen's running for President with the deck already stacked against him. He's come out as gay while serving in Congress, his Vice President is a colorful Misha & his family has disowned him over his choice of partners. But that's not the worst of it...On Election Day when he should be focused on winning Jared ends up shot after stepping in front of a killer's gun to save some school children. Election Day is important but to Jensen nothing is more important than Jared and he doesn't care who knows it or if he loses so long as he can be with him. It's Jensen who winds up surprised in the end. ~8k~

A Boy At An Open Door by poor_choices-

Summary:- Jensen Ackles' life is all sorted out, until a blast from the past shows up and makes him realize he's not as happy as he thought. ~10k~

Beautiful Disaster by nyoxicity-

Summary:-  Rock Band AU. Jensen’s the lead guitarist in the number one rock band in the country. Justin’s the lead singer, and they’ve been doing this together since middle-school, been together since just after high school. As on top of the world as they are, Jensen’s starting to become disillusioned with the lifestyle and his crumbling relationship with Justin. And then he meets a new roadie on the crew named Jared who’s got a voice like an angel and a heart to match, and everything starts to change. ~96k~

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And that’s the end of it!!! These are absolutely beautiful, gorgeous and epic fanfictions and will keep you buys for days! Hope y’all enjoy these, I’m off to read more sksksksksk. Let me know if a link doesn’t work, if you like any of these in my inbox and if y’all want a part 2! Peace and J2 5 ever!!!

#j2 #j2 fic recs #j2 recs #j2 fic rec #j2 rec list #fanfiction #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #me as a stan doing my civil duty #ENJOY IT J2 NATION #!!!

[underappreciated-bee]

Incompatible Intentions

Chapter One

A/N: This is a Sokka x female!reader and Zuko x female!reader. This is one of my first stories so please enjoy. Also, Y/N is 10 years old in this chapter, making Zuko and Azula 11 and 9 respectively. The year is 94AG.

Can be read on both A03 and Wattpad (same username)

SUMMARY:

Y/N was a young girl born in the Fire Nation: taught that it was the greatest nation in the world. She grew up with these ideologies engraved in her mind. As her father was a close trusted advisor of the Fire Lord Ozai, she would often spend time with the young crowned prince, Zuko.

After her father dares to disagree with the Fire Lord in a meeting, opposing to the invasion of the water tribes, he and his family were banished from the Fire Nation, never allowed to return again. They seek refuge in the Southern Water Tribe, however not for long, as the Fire Nation soon would raid…

WARNING: N/A if you find any please tell me

Also sorry for any spelling mistakes or typing errors. I have proofread this, but sometimes it just skips over my head. 

Status: IN PROGRESS

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Y/N- your name

Y/F/N- your father’s name

Y/L/N- your last name

If you’re on Chrome, you can use this extension to personalise your names.

WC: 1.9K

Zuko's eyes slowly began to follow the gentle movements of the young turtle duck in front of him. Its feet lightly paddled in the shallow water of the pond as it tried desperately to create enough momentum to reach its mother that sat a distance away. Zuko smiled fondly at the creature, breaking off another small piece of the bread in his hand, throwing it gracefully in the direction of its mother- enticing it. 

This had been going on for a while: Zuko feeding the turtle ducks and Y/N staring mindlessly at the cerulean sky, neither of them speaking; only sitting in comfortable silence.  

Y/N and Zuko had known each other for just under a year, first having met one another at a birthday party for Zuko's grandfather. 

Y/N's father, Admiral Y/F/N Y/L/N, helped aid the Fire Lord in his war efforts against the other nations; so for the Fire Lord's 93rd birthday, he and his family were invited by the Fire Lord himself to come to celebrate.

 That was the first time that Y/N and Zuko had met. 

Neither of them talked the entire night, only ever sharing momentary glances with the other before briskly turning away. It had been during the weeks following when they would first speak. 

Y/N's father had brought her to the palace with him, having promised that the meeting wouldn't take up much of his time and that the two of them would be able to go and eat Mochi straight after. Begrudgingly, she followed her father and waited for him in the palace garden. 

Warily, her feet dangled off of the bench you sat on- too short to reach the ground- but that was to be expected from an 8-year-old. Happily, she watched as the turtle ducks raced around the pond, your eyes tracing their movements; they seemed relaxed- content, even.

Zuko felt relaxed as he walked into the palace garden. His hand clutching the bag of seeds his mother had handed him, ready to feed the ducks that day. Smiling, he walked into the garden, eyeing his surroundings in hope that Azula wouldn't be there. 

Abruptly, his feet stopped beneath him: catching the sight of a young girl- around his age- sitting alone on the corner bench. He had no idea who she was, or even if she had been allowed in there, but that didn't stop him from approaching her. 

"Hi," Zuko first spoke up, waving his hand awkwardly in the air at the girl.

 She looked up startled, her face morphing into one of shock as she realised who had just spoken to her. Immediately, she stood up and bowed at the prince

"P-Prince Zuko," she stammered. "I am so sorry if I've disturbed you. I didn't realise you'd be here. I can go and wait for my father somewhere else." The words flowed off her tongue swiftly, her nervousness apparent.

Y/N had never seen the young Prince up close in person before. Sure, she had seen pictures of him around the Capital, and she had noticed him a couple of weeks ago at the Fire Lord's Birthday, but despite her father's position, she had hardly ever met anyone other than the Fire Lord himself.

"My friends call me Zuko." he smiled softly.

"Oh. Well, uhm, Zuko- My name is Y/N," she smiled shyly at him, timidly putting her hair behind her ear. Zuko had picked up on her discomfort,  and so he started to walk towards the pond to spare her of any more of the awkward conversation. 

Carefully, he sat down under the tree in the centre of the garden and started to feed the ducks. Y/N only watched on fondly as the turtle ducks swam towards the seeds he had thrown in their direction. 

"Do you want to come and sit next to me?" Zuko asked the girl, turning around to look at her, "Promise I'm not as intimidating as I look." 

The young girl smiled timidly, she wasn't even really supposed to be in the garden, let alone be talking to a member of the Royal Family. Glancing between him and the bread in his hand, she spoke up, more confident than before, " Only if you let me feed the Turtle Ducks."

Y/N watched the sky peacefully. As time passed, she had learned to feel relaxed in Zuko'd presence; no longer was she as tense and unnerved as she once was. She looked over at him quietly, still feeding the Ducks, she thought. Her head shook slightly before finally breaking the silence.

"Are we not going to talk today?" She asked concerned. He simply shrugged, unsure of what to say. 

He seemed unusual today, not his typical self, and that to no fault of his own. Zuko now being a young 10-year-old Prince had found himself with fewer responsibilities than he'd like. Despite his countless pleas to his father to allow him to be more involved in the war effort, he would always be turned away as 'he wasn't old enough to understand'.

"Sorry I just..." he paused briefly, deciding whether or not to say something, "...I have a lot on my mind, " he admitted, giving her a distressed look.

She glanced at him, concerned,  "D'you wanna talk about it?"

Before they could discuss any further, they were unpleasantly interrupted.

"Hey Zuzu," Azula gleamed as she walked into the garden. 

Zuko sighed heavily at the sight of his sister. He had tried avoiding her the entire day in hopes she would catch interest in other things.

"Hi Azula," Y/N looked at the girl brightly, whilst Zuko only mumbled irritatedly under his breath.

 Azula sat down beside Y/N, looking at her quizically, "I didn't expect you to be here today," her tone more similar to that of a question.

"My father had a last-minute meeting he had to attend.  And since we were on our way to the market he brought me along with him." she smiled kindly at Azula. 

In the past year, Y/N  had found herself inside the Fire Nation palace more often than she'd first liked. Her father would regularly be called in to advise the Fire Lord on some new plan for invading the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribes. Y/N didn't mind it though, because every time he would have to go to the palace, she'd join him.

It was somewhat of a ritual between the two. Whenever her father had been called to the palace, Y/N would happily join him. At first, she did so because she wished to see the Turtle Ducks. After a while, she realised that she liked talking to Zuko. 

Sometimes, however, Zuko wouldn't be in the garden; only his sister Azula. At first, she was a whole lot less welcoming than her brother. And even though Azula wouldn't admit it, eventually, she too began to like Y/N. She liked the fact that there was another girl, around her age, in the palace. 

It made her feel less alone. 

Azula had sat down beside Y/N and started to pluck at the grass, viciously ripping it up with her fingers before dropping it back on the ground: then repeating. 

As she continued playing with the grass, a bundle of daisies caught her eye. Azula scooted closer to them. Then she started to rip the daises out of the ground, as she had done with the grass. 

By this point, Zuko finally began to notice his surroundings and looked over at Y/N, who remained unmoving on the grass, sprawled out like a starfish. He smiled kindly at the sight before turning his attention to his sister. 

"Azula you shouldn't be doing that! Leave the flowers alone."

Zuko's sudden increase in dynamics caused Y/N to look at the two, unsure of what was going on. Her face was laced in perplexion as she tried to decipher their interaction. It was only when she noticed the daisies in Azula's hands that Y/N moved closer to her to inspect. Slowly, she picked up a daisy off of the ground, and then another, and another; joining Azula in her conquest 

Zuko gawked at them both in complete shock, unsure of how to proceed.

"Look Zuko, it's okay," Y/N smiled, lifting a beautifully crafted daisy chain. "We can make friendship bracelets out of them." She smiled kindly at Zuko, who had a shocked look on his face. He glanced at his sister, seeking comfort in the fact she looked just as baffled as him.

"A what?" Azula spoke up. 

"A friendship bracelet" Y/N repeated. "It's self-explanatory really. It's a bracelet that friends wear to symbolise their friendship." As she began to dig her nails in the stem of a daisy, to thread the next one through, " and we can make them out of daisies." 

From that day on, it became almost like a tradition for the three to sit down together in the garden, creating daisy chains in honour of their friendship. Because despite how long it'd been since they'd seen one another, or even if Zuko and Azula weren't on speaking terms. It would be something they all enjoyed doing, together. 

 A couple of weeks had passed since that day when Y/N walked into the palace with the brightest smile on her face. In her hands, two perfectly packaged presents. She bid farewell to her father before giddily running off into the garden to meet with her friends.  

Azula, sat on the bench, was reading a book and Zuko sat underneath the tree, as he watched the Turtle Ducks paddle in the water. Y/N skipped into the garden, standing in the middle of the room, the cleared her throat. 

Both the siblings looked up at their friend and quickly ran up to her, forgetting what they were doing.

 "Y/N!" they both exclaimed in unison, rushing to be the first to embrace her. After the three of them had hugged and the excitement had died down, Y/N looked at the two, "I got you both something."

The two siblings remained confused as they began to wonder what could their friend have possibly gotten them.

Y/N brought out two presents from behind her back, giving them to the two. They both looked at Y/N, then at each other, unsure of what to expect from the girl.

As the two opened their gifts, Y/N spoke, "I wanted to get the two of you something for being my best friends. So I decided to make it meaningful."

 Azula was the first to open her gift, seeing a red string bracelet with a silver small sun charm on it. She looked down in the box, in awe of the jewellery. 

"I decided that the best thing to get you would be the most important part of a daisies life cycle, " Y/N said as she showed the two a bracelet similar to theirs on her hand. 

Unlike Azula who had a sun charm and Zuko who wore a water droplet:  Y/N had a daisy. Showing them her charm she began to explain her gifts. 

"I have a daisy. Azula is my sun," she said nodding to her friend

"And Zuko is my water." 

The two children looked at the girl in front of them, both grinning from ear to ear. They placed the red string on their wrist and looked back up to their friend.

" I wanted you to have these so that you would be reminded of our friendship. That no matter where we go and no matter how far apart we are. You will always be my best friends." 

No matter what.

#avatar the last airbender #zuko #sokka #katara #aang #ozai #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #sokka x reder #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #multiple ending #this is really bad #im sorry #i hope you like it #slowburn #ish