Jan 21
Struggling to get back into writing my WIPS. Send me requests - John price or Kratos
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Struggling to get back into writing my WIPS. Send me requests - John price or Kratos
Where the Dandelions Grow
A Dungeons and Dragons AU
Tiefling!Rogue!Sakusa x Elf!Druid!Reader
Female pronouns
Genre: Enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, possibly suggestive themes
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 1 Sakusa fanart
Bokuto Kotarou
Childish Ways
Osamu Miya x Reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none
Note: this is the first piece of writing on my blog!
Osamu Miya who grew up just down the street from you.
Who you met when playing at the park and a volleyball smacked your head.
Who came running over with his brother’s shirt balled in his fist.
“Apologize Atsumu.”
Atsumu bowing down grumpily and saying a quick “sorry.”
Atsumu runs off while Osamu stands there looking at you.
A thoughtful look on his face.
He seems to come to a conclusion when he says “wanna come play with us?”
Skeptically you agree and run over to where Atsumu went with the ball.
Osamu Miya who becomes your best friend over the next few months.
Who always invites you to come over and bake cookies for his mom or to practice volleyball with Atsumu.
But one time when playing tag, Osamu Miya feels truly jealous for the first time.
Atsumu was the tagger and was right on your tail.
Swerving and dodging weren’t doing much to dissuade the chase.
But at a tree you were able to evade his grasp as Atsumu lunged forward for what he thought was the winning touch.
“Haha! Missed me! Missed me! Now you gotta kiss me!”
The song sprung from your lips as a victory cry, but it didn’t last long.
Especially since Atsumu grabbed your shirt and yanked you back.
In your stunned state the older twin proceeded to plant his lips on your cheek then run away with a blush and a giggle.
Osamu Miya who was watching from behind a bush with clenched fingers and tense shoulders.
Who was mad at his brother because Osamu was supposed to kiss you first.
Osamu Miya who thinks on the memory often when you come into Onigiri Miya for a snack.
Who desperately wants to confess his love for you but is too afraid of ruining the bond you already have.
Who holds you so close to his heart that he swears if you ever left he’d die of a broken heart.
Osamu Miya who knows your schedule like the back of his hand.
Knows when you’ll come in every morning to share a coffee before work.
Knows when you’ll come in in the afternoon for dinner.
Knows as soon as you walk in if something is wrong.
Osamu Miya who loves you so much that he’d do anything *anything* to make you happy.
Osamu Miya who misses you after you had gone on a trip.
So he invites you over to his apartment to make cookies like when you were younger.
Who gets a devious plan and a sly smirk.
Who gathers some flour in his hand and tosses it at your face.
“‘Samu! What the hell!” You exclaim with a smile that says you’re not at all mad.
You collect a scoop of flour as well and a small war ensues in his tiny kitchen.
And when he dodged one of your flour bombs the first thing that comes to mind and pops out of his mouth is “Missed me! Missed me! Now you gotta kiss me!”
You still for a mere fraction of a second before marching over to the broad man.
A fist grabs the collar of his shirt and the next thing Osamu knows is that he wants to never let you go.
Osamu Miya who lets out the most relieved sigh when you kiss him.
Who rest his hands on your hips and pulls you tight against his strong chest.
Who can’t control himself anymore and buries his face in your neck repeating “I love you” over and over again.
Osamu Miya who is surprised when you cup his face in your hands and bring his eyes to meet your own.
And when you smile with tears in your eyes and confess as well?
He’s the happiest man on the Earth at that moment.
He picks you up and spins you around.
You kiss and laugh and confess and just rejoice at finally belonging to the other.
And for the rest of the night you cuddle on the couch watching cheesy romance movies and eating cookies.
Where the Dandelions Grow
Tiefling!Rogue!Sakusa Kiyomi x Elf!Druid!Reader
Chapter 2
Fem pronouns
Warnings: skeletons, religious trauma
Wc: 1k
Masterlist
a/n: i know this chapter is short but it is important to the story. It needed its own space to exist and not be shoved in with other things. I really wanted to give a little more background and show that y/n and bokuto have a very close relationship as friends.
Falling.
That’s all I feel. Darkness surrounds me as I fall and a scream bubbles in my lungs, but is interrupted by my back softly coming in contact with something.
When my eyes open a bright blue sky greets me. I sit up to look around and find I am in a field that stretches as far as I can see. The short green grass ripples in the gentle breeze blowing over the plain.
“Come.” breathes a soft voice that tickles my skin.
I whip around to find the source of the whisper in my ear, but there is nothing. Unease makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up but I decidedly ignore it.
I begin to wander around the vastness surrounding me. A sense of longing stirs in my bones. An urgency to find…something…something very important. The grass flies by me as I run to find that something.
“Find it.”
“Come here.”
“To this place.”
“Where the dandelions grow.”
Suddenly millions of golden flowers bloom out of the ground. I stop at the surprise and stare at the new color surrounding me. In wonder I bend down to touch one of the petals.
As soon as my finger makes contact the sun quickly sinks down below the horizon, a full moon rises to the center of the sky and shines down directly upon me. Stars glow bright and the colors of the universe streak across the sky.
Then a large gust of wind blows through the field, loud and strong. My hair whips every which way and into my eyes. Everything falls deadly silent once it passes. The dandelions begin to die, starting from where I stand and spreading out. As if I was a rock that disturbed the stillness of a pond. White replaces yellow.
I feel something under my feet and look down.
Two skeletons curled together lay beneath me. Seed pod puffs fly into the air as I back away, startled, but I stop when they both turn to face me and speak.
“Your fate lies where the dandelions grow.”
A large hole opens beneath my feet and I am falling in a dark abyss once again.
-
Cold sweat drips from my forehead when I sit up with a gasp. My body is shaking and it’s hard to breathe.
I’m startled when my door opens and Kotarou hurries in.
“Hey, hey, hey, shhhh. It’s alright, you're safe. There’s nothing here but you and me.”
He comes to sit beside me on the bed. I look into his eyes and gape my mouth open and closed like a fish out of water. Thankfully he notices how deeply in distress I am and pulls me into his arms.
Soothing words and a large hand rubbing my back bring me out of the stupor the strange dream had left me in.
Kotarou looks down at me with concern shimmering in his eyes. Brows knit together creating a crease in his skin. “Are you okay? I heard you shout and came running. Can you tell me what happened?”
I take a shuttered breath and say, “It was a dream. One I've had before.” I pause, then continue with, “The same dream that made me run away.”
“What? Are you okay with telling me more? I know it’s a touchy subject…”
“No, it’s alright. I feel safe with you. I trust you.”
I wiggle out of his arms and Kotarou moves to sit on the end of the bed, big shining eyes awaiting my tale.
“This was long, long ago. I was born in a temple to highly religious parents. When I took my first breath of air the priest that was present prophesied that I was meant for great things as a druid.
I don't remember my parents. I was taken from them a month after my birth.
The druids in the more sacred and closed off part of the temple raised me. They taught me how to connect with the spirits of nature. How to listen to their voices and learn to harness their magic.
I was always confused though because what the druids told me they heard was different from the spirits whispering in my ears.
The temple preached of power and worthiness. Of how people who didn’t possess the same powers as us were doomed to suffering in the next life.
But what the fairies, nymphs, and other spirits told me is that all life is precious. That weakness is not a sign of lack of strength, but of undiscovered potential. And if that potential isn’t found in this life it will be in the next, or the one after.
As I got older, at around seventeen, doubt and distrust had fully rooted into my heart against my fellow druids. That’s when I had the dream.
A dream of whispered voices telling me to come to where the dandelions grow.
The same thing had happened that night. I had woken, paralysed by the amount of magic nature had used to send me that dream.
I ran away that night. I was so worried that I hadn’t thought to bring any supplies.
And a week later is when you found me.
Kotarou, I don’t understand why the spirits decided to send me this dream again. But I sense that something very important is about to happen.”
My friend sat with his brows still furrowed, not in worry, but in concentration this time. After a minute he turned to me with a smile.
“Y/n, you are one of the most powerful magic users I have ever known. From what I heard, the spirits attached to you aren’t malicious. I don’t think you need to worry. Whatever this dream means, I know you’ll figure it out. And if you don't in this life, there’s always the next one right?”
A small breath escapes me as my lips turn up, “I guess you’re right. Thank you for listening, Kotarou. It means a lot.”
“Anything for my best friend. Do you want me to stay here tonight?”
“That would be nice. I’m still a little shaken.”
Kotarou moves and climbs under the quilt, laying so his broad back is pressed against mine. Knowing he was there protecting me lulled my mind back to security and into a dreamless rest.
This is not the book I'm supposed to be writing.
Domesticated
The sunlight shining on his eyelids alerts him first to the fact that he is awake, and secondly that they'd forgotten to shut the curtains again last night, even though they both complained every morning that it woke them too early. Zero shifts, rubbing his eyes. It’s way too cold to get out of bed and fix the offending light. Instead, he rolls over. The line of light stretches across the place his head had been resting on the pillow, and travels down across a pair of extremely nice breasts. They rise and fall softly with her slow breathing.
For a while, Zero watches her sleep, until the tacky analogue alarm clock she’d insisted on having ticks over to a sensible hour. He pokes her in the shoulder and tugs gently on a stray lock of hair to no effect, shrugs, and wraps an arm around her waist. She’s gotten softer since she stopped running. He doesn’t mind. He’d loved her wiry and angular and he loves her curved and gentle.
She rolls onto her side, moves into his arms and sighs in her sleep, and he trails a line of kisses down to the base of her neck, to the place he knows makes her shiver and twist her shoulders. Sure enough, she twitches, then groans, rolls back to blink blearily up at him
"G’morning, Kaitlyn,” he smiles. She only groans again and buries her face in his collarbone. He runs his fingers through her hair, hits a tangle, and pulls his hand free. “Come on, it’s morning. We can have breakfast,” Still nothing. “I’ll make you coffee?”
“You drive a hard bargain,” she mumbles into his chest. He laughs, because she says this every morning when he wins, and kisses the top of her head. He’ll have to brave the cold air to reach the kitchen with its tiled floor of frozen doom, but this is their routine and he’s not going to question a good thing.
The mixture of scents brings her out. Coffee and bacon have worked their way back to the bedroom and drawn her out, clad only in a shirt that was probably his once. She’s obviously freezing but apparently pants are too difficult a concept before her bloodstream is 50% caffeine. Kaitlyn makes a beeline for the two stools at the counter they use instead of a dining table - there’s no room in here - but he grabs her wrist and pulls her up to the stove with him. It’s warmer near the burners, and really he just wants to hold her.
She groans at him again and holds out a hand, into which he neatly places the giant mug of coffee she requires to get going every morning. He watches as she downs half of it without taking a breath. It’s not even the drug that does it, it’s the knowledge that she’s had some that wakes her up, brings the life and spark back to her eyes. He smirks at her, and his hands never leave her waist. “Someone’s demanding thismorning,” he teases, and fights back laughter when her eyes widen in panic.
“Oh god Zero I’m sorry I didn’t mean to growl at you!” she whimpers, throwing her arms around him. She looks up, brown eyes big and distressed. “You aren’t mad are you? I swear it’s just because it’s morning and I’m terrible when I wake up, you know that...”
He kisses her forehead. “I know.” And the spot between her eyes. “I’m never mad at you.” And her nose. “Not really.” Relief floods her face for a moment, before she brings her lips up to meet his and his eyes close so he can’t see anything anymore. Not that he needs to. He knows her by touch now, after such a long time of learning his way first through the rapidly switching tracks of her mind and then around the foreign landscape of her body. She’s not wearing pants, he remembers. How forward-thinking of her.
>Lydia: Be Helpful (in the least helpful way possible)
"You'd know what people where thinking if you just looked, Kitty," Lydia said, flipping another page. She didn't look up.
Kaitlyn frowned. "Looked at what?"
Sighing patiently, Lydia hung her book over the arm of the lounge chair she'd sprawled in. She turned to watch Kaitlyn, amusement in her pale brown eyes. "At people. Like... Zero won't tell you whether he's okay with something or not, but he blushes when he's uncomfortable. That's how you can tell if it's alright to tell him what to do."
Kaitlyn's frown deepened. "That doesn't help," she complained, "Zero's always blushing."
Lydia picked up her book. "Not always. Just when you're there."
Lately I've been waking up alone
Kaleb is back at Hogwarts for nearly a full week before he realises what he’s missing. When he climbs into bed on Friday night (Saturday morning, really, now that he’s fought his way through the DADA essays and reading) and for the first time since starting seventh year he has time to really think about the hollow aching in his chest. Even then, he doesn’t really consider it until he’s under the covers and notices that he’s no longer sprawling across the space, his body has moved to the left and his arms are reaching across the mattress for something - someone - who isn’t there.
It’s stupid, it’s a terrible idea. Kaleb’s ashamed he ever had it. He reminds himself of all the reasons why he should leave her alone. She told him at thirteen she didn’t see him the way he saw her. He’d put away those feelings years ago. He couldn’t put pressure on her while she was still mourning her father. But still, his stupid traitor brain whispers to him. Thirteen was a long time ago. Whose house had she practically moved into over summer? Who had she sought out when she’d needed someone to care for her? Yes, he thinks back savagely, care for her. Not love her. Not want her.
No matter how hard he pushes, the feeling doesn’t go away. He sighs, partly frustration, partly trying to shake the crushed rib cage feeling. They never even shared a bed. How can he be missing something he’s never had? There’s only been dreams he doesn’t want to admit remembering. He’s never had her there, warm and soft and breathing steadily, his arms wrapped around her and her heartbeat filling his ears as he presses gentle kisses to the back of her neck and their legs tangle together under the blanket that she’s stolen most of, not that it matters since he’s practically overheating in her presence anyway and then he sits up, shaking his head as though he can dislodge the image. He can’t do this. He’s at school. In the dorms, which used to feel like home but tonight are just isolating and cold.
Growling under his breath, he snatches a sweater from the pile of clothes already forming by his bed. It must be nearly four in the morning now, the patrols can’t possibly go all night. He needs to move, preferably to be playing Quidditch, but really anything will do. He’s been breaking this rule for years, surely he can prowl around the castle for a while without anybody catching him? And he might meet Vanora somewhere. Perhaps she can’t sleep either. Perhaps they’ll meet under the stars at the top of the Astronomy Tower- no, the kitchens, it’s always been the kitchens with her. She’ll say she can’t sleep either, and they’ll sit together and some kind of miraculous understanding will pass between their eyes and she’ll say she was wrong back then and she loves him too and then he’ll kiss her like he’s always wanted to and she’ll taste like cupcakes like he’s always imagined she would and everything will be perfect.
But probably, he thinks, he’ll stagger back to bed as the sun rises, just as alone, and he’ll fall asleep holding a pillow to his chest and trying to block out his thoughts and pretend he hasn’t fallen back in love with his best friend.