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cloud-laufeyson · 6 months

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Desires

High School!Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being friends with Mike in high school and helping him with math, but that quickly turns into something else.

Reader’s pronouns: she/her

Word Count: 1.5K

Story Contains: profanity, name calling, fluff, angst, oral (female receiving), p in v,

Notes: I heavily believe that Mike sucked at math in school and I will die on that hill

You are walking through the crowded halls, trying to go to your normal meeting spot after school. You look for Mike. He’s been your best friend for years. You’ve helped him through the death of his brother and you are always there for him and his sister. You finally spot him, “Hey Mike! How were classes?” You smile at Mike while he shrugs. “Still don’t get it.” He frowns.

You and Mike are total opposites. You are in all honors classes while he’s in regular classes. You usually help him after school so he can get good grades. “Well that’s why I help you. Was it math today?” You start walking in the direction of his home and he follows beside you. “Yeah. I hate school.” You laugh at what he says. “Well let’s get to your place and I’ll help.”

After walking and chatting for a bit, you and Mike both make it to his place…nobody is home. “Why is no one home?” You look at Mike who starts to realize. “Oh yeah, Abby had her talent show today, so my parents are gone.” You nod and smile. Your face gets a bit hot.

You didn’t tell anyone or want to admit it, but you like Mike. You’ve been friends since you were both 6 years old. Every year, your crush goes deeper and now you two are 17 years old. This is your last year in high school.

“Come on. We’ll work in my room.” Mike waves for you to follow him up the stairs. You follow without a second thought. His room is a bit messy, but not much. Just some clothes on the floor, and some empty water bottles…nothing too crazy.

“Okay, what was it that you were confused about?” You look at Mike, seeing him already looking at you. Your face gets hot again. “Well…it’s calculus so everything.” You two both laugh. “But to be specific, limits.” You nod at what he says, “Okay, I can definitely help you with that.”

30 minutes go by, “Mike, it’s okay!” You watch him as he paces in his room. Mike is visibly frustrated. “I DON’T UNDERSTAND!” You sit in shock, he never yells while you help him. You walk up and try to comfort him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Mike, it’s fine.” He flinches at the tough, not seeing you walk up. He takes a deep breath and sighs. “I know. Usually when you help me, I get it. Why can’t I understand this?” Mike stands still. You shake your head. “I don’t know, but it’ll be okay. I got all night.” You smile at him and rub his shoulder gently. Mike looks up at you, making eye contact. Something was different about the way he looked at you.

With no warning, Mike kisses you on the lips. You are shocked but slowly melt into the kiss. As soon as you kiss back, Mike brings you closer to him by your waist. You moan a bit, face getting hot. The kiss gets sloppy and you two are breathing heavily. It feels like you two were waiting for this kiss to happen.

Your hands start to travel up to his hair, you lightly tug at it. He moans into the kiss. The simple tug, making him become more passionate. His hands go up to your face and your hands travel down his body. You feel his chest, arms, and abs. You could feel his muscles, making your underwear wetter. Mike backs you up and you fall on his bed. “I’ve been wanting to do this for the longest time.” Mike’s voice goes low, making you feel something. He takes off his shirt crawling on top of you. You couldn’t take your eyes off him.

You feel hands touch the skin of your waist. Mike looks at you with lust, pleading with his eyes for your shirt to come off. He takes it off of you in a rush and stares at you. You start to feel exposed until he leans closer to your ear and whispers, “You look delicious Y/n.” Your already wet underwear are now soaked. He goes to your neck and starts kissing and sucking different spots. Your hands travel down to his pants, trying to unbuckle his belt. As you get it unbuckled, Mike sucks on the nape of your neck. You moan loudly, the sensation feeling so good. Mike smirks while coming back up. “Such a whore for me huh? Tell me how much you want me.” You breathe heavily. “Please Mike. I really want you. You can make me all yours.” You scratch his back as you beg for him. He groans and rips his pants off, doing the same to you, he slides your pants and underwear all the way down.

Mike stares at you underneath him. “God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he breathes out. You start kissing him and you feel fingers slide right into you. You moan and roll your eyes. “Does that feel good sexy?” All you could do was not your head, you feel yourself about to cum. Mike slides back down and pulls his fingers out. You whine and before you could say anything his tongue circles around your clit. “Fuck!” you yell out not expecting that. He is eating you out while looking at you. You grab a handful of his hair and tug it. He moans causing you to feel vibrations. He slides his tongue in you and keeps moaning. Your back arches and you cum all over his chin. As he makes his way back up to you, you see all your juices on his chin. He wipes it and says, “God baby, you taste so good on my tongue.”

He slides inside you. You wince at the pain, but moan at the pleasure. “That’s it baby. Moan for me.” The pain goes away and all you feel is pleasure. You moan loudly as he buries himself deep inside you and pulls right back out. “Oh fuck Mike!” Your yells and moans could be heard all over the house. “Fuck Y/n. You feel so good.” Mike’s moans fill the room, sounding like music to your ears. His pace picks up faster as he pumps in and out of you. “Shit!” You can feel yourself getting tighter around Mike’s cock. He leans down to your ear, “Cum for me. Cum all over me.” His tone sounds demanding and his voice is so low. You scratch his back as you orgasm, cumming all over him. Mike goes faster, making sure he draws out the orgasm. He puts his thumb on your clit, making the sensation so much better and intense. “FUCK MIKE!” You couldn’t help, but yell out his name. Mike’s thrusts get sloppier with every second. “Oh Y/n~” Mike moans. You scratch his back even more and this sends him over the edge. He quickly pulls out of you and cums on your stomach. The second he finishes, he runs to grab a towel. He comes back and cleans you up. He tosses the towel beside him and lays down beside you.

You two lay their breathlessly. You finally turn your head to look at him and, on que, he looks at you too. “Mike I-” you couldn’t even finish your sentence because Mike kisses you right on the lips. “Y/n I’ve liked you since I was 13. I’ve tried to find so many ways to tell you, but I always back out.” He smiles at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, I’ve liked you since I was 15 so I guess you fell first.” You giggle at your own joke and Mike chuckles. “I love you, Y/n.” Mike sounds so genuine. You smile wide, “I love you too.” You two lean in for another kiss. “It’s about time this happened,” Mike says admiring you, you laugh.

You guys hear the front door unlock and shoot up to get dressed. You find your body spray and spray it on you and Mike’s bed. You and Mike get dressed at record speed and pretend to help him with his math. Mike’s mom comes up the stairs and leans into the room. “Hey you two! What are you doing?” You look at his mom with a smile. “Hey Mrs. Schmidt. I’m just helping him with his calculus work.” She nods her head and looks around the room. “Mike, you need to clean this room! Can’t believe Y/n still hangs out with you in this mess.” You laugh loudly enjoying this moment. “I know.” Mrs. Schmidt walks out of the doorway and goes downstairs. Mike looks at you and smirks, “Hangs out is one way to put it.” You slap his forehead. “Shut up.” You roll your eyes. He leans in close to your lips, but before kissing you he whispers, “I’ll leave the window open for you for round 2 tonight.” He kisses your lips softly.

#josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's

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killakirby · 1 year

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‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　late night flying　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

notifications ☽︎: feelings of inadequacy, stress, near death experiences, na'vi body descriptions, fem!na'vi!reader, sully's being teases

developer's notes ☽︎: hey i did say it would be out around this time :/ i'm doing my best. first work on tumblr since like 2016 be kind i'm supplying my thirst. i was just checking the word count to paste it here, and i genuinely thought lo'ak's was shorter than neteyam's, i was wrong 💀 prepare yourself, it's a novel lmao and yes this is a reminder that i consider these drabbles. also if you find yourself loving this work send me an ask for a request and i'd be thrilled to fulfill it!

much love, <3 kirby !!!

⋆☾ NETEYAM SULLY - 1.8k words

it’s difficult for neteyam to have the time and energy to be an impulsive and disobedient kid like his brother. he spends most of his time shadowing his parents learning how to lead or chasing after his younger siblings and making sure that in their shenanigans they don’t get hurt. so, most of the time he’s only disobedient when he’s making sure his siblings are safe, which is honorable and cute. neteyam is also disobedient when he finds himself wanting to spend more time with you.

the fifteen years neteyam has been living, he’s constantly had people tell him that he’s a perfect son. that he’s smart, compassionate, strong; that he's going to be a great warrior–and a great olo’eyktan. however, he hasn’t heard that he’s the perfect son from his parents, but he doesn't have to hear it to know that they’re thinking it. he sees in how they scold lo’ak after another stupid stunt he pulled, “why can’t you try to be more careful? or, better yet, less reckless?” his dad would ask. neteyam knows the only thing lo’ak heard is, “why can’t you be more like your brother?” and it’s starting to be the only thing neteyam hears too. when he was younger he probably wouldn’t care so much about the jealous and now defeated looks lo’ak throws his way, but recently, neteyam is feeling every molecule of pressure from the village, his siblings, and his parents to continue being perfect. it doesn’t help that lo’ak has seemed to become resigned in his role of irresponsible-impulsive-brother, too, it only magnifies the pressure on neteyam to be better.

spider, lo’ak, kiri (and even tuk!), tease him for being a “goody-two shoes,” an english phrase their father had taught them. and today neteyam has had enough of hearing it. he woke up early with his father to prepare their ikran for patrol, sparred with him for hours, had his bow and flight technique nitpicked by his mother, and now he has to supervise his siblings scaling the mountains to make sure they don’t die exploring without the permission of their parents. and when they all tease him for being a “goody-two shoes,” for not wanting to venture further, he snaps. neteyam hisses and stalks his way over to the edge of the mountain, “whatever. go ahead and get involved in some dangerously stupid situation that you can’t get yourself out of and when i’m not there to save you, like i always am, have fun calling mom and dad to save your ass! and i’ll make sure to be back to enjoy seeing your dumbassess getting yelled at for your lack of brain cells, as usual.”

he calls his ikran, initiates the bond, ignores the calls apologizing and telling him to stop, and takes off into the sky. neteyam flies for what feels like minutes to him–feels the wind cascade through his braids, the cool air rushing across his skin, the sun battling the breeze to warm him, the complete understanding between him and his ikran, not needing to a single word or thought to guide. as he’s gliding through a spattering of small mountains and makes out your form and ikran ground atop of one, his curiosity gets the best of him this time, and he lands next to you.

you’re on the ground leaning against the body of your ikran, it’s wing shielding you from the strong rays of the sun, keeping you cool. the freckles on your smooth blue-toned skin are glowing a soft white under the shade of the wing, a false replication of night. your legs are comfortably stretched-out and crossed in front of you, along with your arms crossed over your chest, your head and back resting on the warm ikran. as neteyam walks closer he sees your chest rising and falling slowly, eyes gently shut, and a look of bliss on your face. he sighs, relieved, greets your ikran with a bow of his head, and gets a welcoming coo of acknowledgment and a head shake in return, jostling your body and causing you to rouse.

a soft groan leaves your lips, ears and tail flicking in displeasure, before your eyes flutter open and drowsily make contact with his own. you blink a few times, making a small sound of confusion, “huh?”, and your hands come up to rub at your eyes, as if seeing him here is a figment of your imagination. neteyam smiles, a warm laugh escaping him, amused by how adorable you are, even though he disturbed you from your little nap. his amusement lets you know he is in fact real, his laugh awakens the butterflies in your stomach, and your tail hides in embarrassment at being caught hiding (by him, of all people) away from everyone else, as your cheeks darken into an indigo-tinted blush.

you shyly make an effort at eye contact and fail as you try to explain your situation to him. “i was just–”, he waves off your voice and states with a small smirk, “no need to explain yourself, it’s not like you’re in trouble with me.” you shrug, muttering a few deprecating words to yourself and are about to stand, when neteyam sits next you. he pulls his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around himself, chin resting on his knees, sighing deeply, eyes fixed ahead on the skyscape, his strikingly handsome faced furrowed with anger? stress? hopelessness?

your eyes widen, shocked at how small he manages to look. it’s incredibly rare that he allows anybody to see him this vulnerable; he’s usually impeccably composed–attractively confident and sure of himself–but the idea that he’s allowing you to see him like this is a privilege you will not take advantage of. you scooch closer to him and place a gentle hand on his shoulder and softly ask, “are you feeling okay?” there’s silence for a while before his lips parted and shut, hesitating, before he shook his head, so faintly it was almost unnoticeable. you nodded, “ do you want to talk about it?” and received a verbal response this time, “no.” with a light rasp to his voice. with another nod, you delicately squeeze his shoulder and offer comfort, “then we will not talk about it. but, if you ever find yourself needing someone to talk to, you can always come to me. the circumstances do not matter. if you want advice, i’ll do my best to advise. if you want me to simply listen, my ears will be open. if you want to sit in silence, ill sit silently with you so you are not alone.”

neteyam turns to you in disbelief at the sincerity within your words, and surprises himself with how close you are, faces only inches apart. your eyes widen and you lean back a little bit, hand slipping off his shoulder, but the earnest look in your gaze remains, trying to gauge his response to your pledge. neteyam shakes his head at you, a happy scoff escapes his lips, and he calls you stupid for resigning yourself to a one-sided promise. you put your hands on your hips and tilt your head at him, not falling for the insult. “all that matters to me is that you have someone to speak your true feelings to and not allow them to eat at you from the inside out.” neteyam observes the seriousness in your eyes, the way your ears are turned towards him, the way tension coils in your tail, the way your eyes shift from his to the ground as if you’re just now considering the possibility that he may reject your offer.

neteyam stands, and nods affirmatively, tail flicking, “okay. i do not wish to talk about it. but now as my newly designated comfort person, you have to fly with me.” he offers you his hand, and gently raises you to your feet. you giggle at him, head tilted up to meet his eyes, “there has to be a better title besides ‘comfort person’ but i’ll take it! uh…are you going to let go of my hand so we can get flying?” neteyam drops your hand, and scratches at his head, now it’s his turn for his cheeks to turn indigo. you mount your ikran, and call down to him with a smirk on your face, “trying to race?” neteyam laughs at you, goading, “when i win, don’t hurt yourself trying to eat my dust!” you kick-off getting a head start, and neteyam is quick to mount his ikran and follow you into the sky.

the challenge you had set began with adrenaline-pumped blood, heavy breathing, sharp turns, dives and peaks, free-falling, frivolous chasing after one other, the lead switching between the two of you often, screams of glee and awe when one of you pulled off an unreal maneuver–and turned into cruising instead of racing. eclipse had long since passed, somehow going unnoticed by you and surprisingly, neteyam. your gliding had turned into intertwining flight paths–swirling, flipping, mixing, turning, all synchronized as if it were a dance you two had practiced many times before. neteyam finds himself distracted from guiding his ikran, as his whole thought process becomes consumed with the image of you.

the bioluminescent freckles twinkling on your face in an unknown pattern, and he wonders if his match yours. the way you let your eyes drift shut, how your head is tilted back, how your arms raise and spread into the air as your ikran coasts through a flip in the air. a soft smile remains constant on your lips as you fly, and grows larger when you open your eyes again and turn to him. you pick up speed to overtake him, and set the path through a few cliff sides, while neteyam raises his hand to his face and realizes that he’s been grinning like a madman the whole time he’s been with you. when you two escape the maze of terrain, he coasts right next to you and sees the moonlight hit your lithe body at the perfect angle and allows himself to accept the fact that he’s falling in love with you. and then his heart drops into his stomach, his ikran shrieks and comes to a sudden stop, wings flapping frantically to remain in the same space– sending you and your ikran into a panic, as you quickly turn back to him, and worriedly question him, scared at the paled look on his face.

neteyam buries his face into his hands and silences your bewilderment by pulling a hand from his face and pointing into the sky, finally bringing your awareness to you guys messing around way past eclipse. you eyes widen and your mouth drops open, a groan of despair escaping you, and you look at neteyam, and both of you say,

“we’re so dead.”

and as you two start to race home, debating whether or not to lie about how you guys ended up losing track of time this badly, neteyam can’t help but think that any punishment he receives from his mom and dad wouldn’t matter, in light of the discovery he made today. the fact that he’s falling in love with you, and the fact that he doesn’t want to do anything to stop it.

⋆☾ LO'AK SULLY - 2k words

lo’ak’s just finished being scolded by not only his mother and his father, but also his grandmother after his latest stunt of nearly killing his younger sister, tuk, unintentionally of course. how was he supposed to know that she was going to sneeze and fall off the vines connecting the mountains plummeting to the ground only to be saved by neteyam on his ikran…again. in his anger of being banned from patrolling and flying for two weeks he sulks into the jungle and comes across you.

lo’ak retreats into the jungle after being dismissed by his father, angered and simultaneously exhausted. it’s like his parents think that he purposely tried to kill his little sister–why would he want that?? and at the bare minimum, why don’t they scold tuk for tagging along and blackmailing him all the time? “if you don’t take me, i’m going to tell” she’d singsong at him. even though he’s breaking rules anyway, they should at least tell tuk not to partake in it with him.

he wasn’t even planning on getting in trouble today! tomorrow,he was supposed to join his parents and neteyam on checking the borders of their land, and he just wanted to share the news with his ikran. so when tuk wanted to come along to see the ikrans, he thought nothing could possibly go wrong, they’re all grouped next to their main dwelling in the mountains. he helped tuk climb to the top, and they both greeted the flock and made their way to his mount. he bring his hand to his forehead and gestures towards the animal, and tuk does the same. the ikran leans towards tuk and snorts at her gently blowing stray grass on to her face. she shrieks and giggles freely–happily, and lo’ak gently laughs at them as he bring his hand to pet the playful animal.

tuk mimics her older brother and gently pats the ikran on the snout a few times before she becomes distracted at the others milling around uninterestedly. she goes off to examine a few juvenile ikrans and lo’ak prods her, “hey! make sure to stay where i can see and hear you!” tuk nods vigorously and begins to play with the babies. lo’ak watches over her quietly for a few minutes, trying to determine whether or not any of the birds are going to try and swallow her whole, and nods acceptingly after witnessing the mature ikrans grumble and waddle away from her instead of attacking her.

with his sister’s safety secured he turns around to face his ikran (his ears still pinned in her direction) and forms the tsaheylu with his ride–amber pupils blown wide as the bond is initiated. lo’ak loses himself in his thoughts, illustrating them for the animal, and is only shaken from it when he hears his sister sneeze, which is quickly followed by a bone-chilling shriek. his body snaps around so quickly that his braid rips from the bond, and he see his little sister fall in what seems like slow-motion. lo’ak screams her name as she falls over the edge, and instinctively reconnects with his ikran and flies over the edge to try and catch her. he’s diving straight down, gaining on her but not quickly enough for the panic and fear to subside in his chest. he’s reaching out– his hand a few feet apart from tuk’s, and he misses the first grab, the second grab, and then her body is snatched out freefall and into neteyam’s arms.

lo’ak levels out and speeds towards them, tuk clinging onto their brother–head buried into his chest, sobs wracking her tiny form. neteyam’s hand cradles her head, and he turns to lo’ak ready to yell at him, but the expression on his younger brother’s face stops him. there’s fear in his eyes, tears running down his cheeks and he keeps trying to wipe them away but he can’t seem to stop himself from crying. neteyam smoothly guides his ikran right next to lo’ak and gently detaches tuk from his body and into his brother’s who hesitantly accepts her onto his saddle. she clings on to him crying erratically, broken “sorry’s” falling from her mouth in between sobs, and even as lo’ak comforts her pulling her close and rubbing his hand down her back in a soothing manner, the look in his eyes betrays him; that’s he's feels undeserving of her apologies. neteyam gently rubs lo’ak on the back, and does nothing besides giving him an understanding nod, and coasts in front of him to lead them home.

“my parents only heard the fact that tuk fell, and not the fact that i feel like shit for letting that happen to her!! it’s like they genuinely think that im putting her in dangerous situations on purpose! like i find some sort of satisfaction in it! i’m not a psychopath, i’m her brother! i care about her safety more than my own! i’d literally die for tuk!” he rants to you. he stumbled across you sitting on a river bank sharpening your knife, and as soon as you saw him you cringed at his expression and asked a simple, “you going to tell me what happened this time?” and now hear you are, listening to lo’ak repeat the same argument against his parents’ for what had to be hours. you glance at the sky and see the sun beginning to bridge the horizon, eclipse will fall upon you two soon.

for the first time you interrupt and ask, “did you tell your parents that?” lo’ak throws his hands up in the air and begins pacing back and forth exasperatedly claiming, “i tried!! multiple times! and they just spoke over me–they didn’t want to hear it! even neteyam came to my defense trying to explain for me, and they dismissed his words too!!” your eyes widened as you said perplexed, “they ignored what neteyam had to say?” lo’ak screamed, “yes!” in complete disbelief.

“and now you’re banned from flying,” you clarify.

“yes!”

“and patrolling.”

“yes!!”

you nodded at him, “well it could be a lot worse—”

“what??! what do you mean a lot worse?! this is terrible!” he cried out.

“they could’ve banned you from flying forever,” you smirked at him.

he sighs, a petty little “not funny” escaping from him, and you laugh, letting him know that you thought your joke was funny enough. you watch him continue to pace, his body language still unsettled (you just can’t determine if it’s from his punishment, or not being enough to save his sister), his fingers rake through his braids tugging and pulling at his scalp frustratedly, and you’ve had enough when you see the deep blue skin on his hands start to lighten with the force and grasp he has on his hair. you intercept his path, place an unyielding hand on his chest holding him in place, and with a firm look on your face you demand, “stop tugging at your hair like that. you’ve spent so much time growing these pretty braids it would be a shame to see you rip them out of your own skull.”

lo’ak freezes, eyes wide and locked onto yours, as he releases his braids and his arms fall limp at his sides. he’s not sure if he stopped because he was listening to your instructions, or if because he short-circuited when you called him pretty (okay, you called his braids pretty–it’s a miniscule difference). you state confidently, “if you are not allowed to fly for the next two weeks, that does not mean that i am not allowed fly. which means that you are allowed to fly with me.” lo’ak balks at your bold statement, “uh…” hesitantly calling out to you as you step away from him (your hand just now falling from his chest, yes he noticed) and summon your ikran. he goes, “uhhhh, no! nope! i do not think that is what that means at all!” you climb onto your saddle, and plead, “lo’ak, please let me try to make you feel better. they won’t be wondering where you are until eclipse, and we only have a couple hours left before we lose daylight. fly with me one last time until you really can’t?”

he shifts his weight, battling with himself before he sighs and allows you to help him onto the back of the saddle, “alright, but only until eclipse, okay?” you cheer, and commence a quick take off, causing lo’ak to shout and hurriedly wrap his arms around your waist, and how is this the first time he’s noticed how small you are compared to him. you continue to direct your ikran upwards and into the clouds bringing him further away from his troubles on the ground.

your waist is enveloped completely by just one of his arms, and in order to make the ride more comfortable he pulls his hands backwards and just grasps carefully at the sides of your waist instead, his fingers almost close enough to touch across your stomach. it seems you’ve just become aware of the situation and he feels your breath catch, and stomach tense, but you say nothing, content to avoid addressing it and let him handle it. he sees the deeper shade to your cheeks and smiles boyishly and he knows that you know that he’s cheesing at you, but you refuse to acknowledge his amusement, keeping your eyes fixed forward but the blush becomes noticeable on your ears, and begins to spread to your chest, and he can’t stop himself from audibly laughing. in retaliation, you command your ikran into a sharp flip, and lo’ak’s gasp interrupts his laughter, and he tightens his grasp on your waist to stop himself from sliding.

when you level out it appears that night has finally overtaken day, but the both of you are too busy squealing internally at the fact that his agile, strong, trained, veiny hands are gripping your waist. the bioluminesce begins to sparkle over your body, and he merely leans back to get a better look at you. you turn to look at him and see a soft smile on his face, his eyes overflowing with feelings he has yet to speak with you about; and nevertheless, you understand completely, and you’re sure it’s reflected at him in your own gaze. you shyly face frontwards again, recognizing that you embarrassed yourself enough around him today with bold words and touches, but lo’ak does not let you hide for long. he scoots forward completely, no longer worried about maintaining the space between you. his chest envelopes your back and he leans forward to gently place a fleeting kiss on your cheek, your breath catches again. instead of teasing you as before, he pulls back–dropping one hand to the body of your ikran and allows the other to wrap across you more firmly, his hand pressing against your abdomen encouraging you to rest against him, and you breathe deeply, allowing yourself to be embraced. his chin goes to rest on your head, and you allow your ikran to guide you home, fully at ease in lo’ak’s arms.

lo’ak gently offers, “let’s spend a little more time out here. just you and me, together.” you begin to half-heartedly reject, reminding him of the circumstances of his punishment and curfew. he waves you off, “it does not matter, you said it yourself. they can’t ban me from flying forever, what’s another week of grounding to the two i have already?” you twist to make sure of his decision, before nodding and turning around again, settling yourself even deeper and more comfortably in his hold.

you suggest to your ikran to take the longest path home.

#kirby's crafts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#☾...avatar way of water...☽#⋆｡°✩drabbles #✩...neteyam sully...✩#✩...lo'ak sully...✩#neteyam x reader #loak x reader #lo'ak x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #lo'ak #loak #lo'ak sully #loak sully #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #atwow #atwow x reader

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callsign-rogueone · 3 months

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the last six years - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader Only one person has remained by Brennan’s side for the last six years, through the good and the bad. [requested] wc: 3.9k 🏷: SPOILERS FOR FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME. fatal injury, blood, and multiple character deaths. basically every bad thing that has ever happened to Brennan will be in this series. I took some major creative liberties with this one and made a bunch of stuff up regarding Tyrrish culture, but we’re just gonna breeze right past that. more to come, because Brennan is just so husband material… mans had me giggling and kicking my feet every time he spoke.

“Tairn! We need Naolin!” You scream, praying that he is alive to hear you. “Bren, please, stay with me.”

His chest rises and falls slowly; he's still breathing. Breathing is good. “Y’need to get out of here.”

“No. I’m not leaving you. Eyes open, Bren, please,” you beg, pressing your hands deeper into the wound. “Tairn!”

“Thirty seconds out!” He yells back.

There’s not much you can do. To remove the arrow is a death sentence when you don’t have any medical supplies. It’s the only thing keeping the blood in his body, but even then it’s doing a shitty job; the warm crimson continues spilling out through your fingers, seemingly endless.

“S’ gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Brennan soothes, feeling your panic.

“Bren, you need to stay awake. You can’t die. I can’t keep going without you.” Tears are pouring freely down your cheeks, dripping down onto the dark fabric of his flight jacket.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbles, ignoring your pleas. He’s slipping away, fast, falling into the slow confusion that comes with a shortage of blood to the brain. “Let me mend you.”

“I’ll worry about myself later. Right now we need to keep you alive.”

Heavy bootsteps enter the room. “Holy shit,” Naolin breathes, at your side in an instant. He digs in his bag, producing sutures and gauze.

If you act quickly, and if by some miracle the arrowhead hasn’t pierced Brennan’s heart, you can keep him stable long enough to find another mender. You break the shaft of the arrow, Brennan whimpering in pain as it shifts within his chest.

“I know, my love, I’m so sorry,” you soothe, wiping your palms on your pant legs and moving to cradle his head in your lap as Naolin takes over. You keep whispering reassurances to him, terrified that if you stop, it’ll sever the last thread holding him in this world. “You’re doing so good, Bren. Almost done, I promise.”

Naolin gives you a look that tells you no, he’s not almost done.

Brennan’s grip on your hand loosens, and you scramble to grab his wrist, bloodied fingers trying to find a pulse -- to no avail. “No,” you cry, tears pouring down your cheeks, “Bren, please wake up, please.”

The slow thump beneath your fingertips stops. Brennan’s heart is no longer beating.

You sob, a desperate sound that splits the air of the ballroom, and Naolin makes his decision, grasping Brennan’s hand and yours. “The two of you need each other.”

“Nao, you can’t-” you gasp at the rush of energy that rips through you, the pain in your broken ribs diminishing instantly. You feel like you’ve been given a shot of pure adrenaline.

Naolin stops breathing just as Brennan starts again, collapsing to the marble floor, and your lips part in shock.

“He is gone,” Tairn confirms, fighting to keep his voice even. “May your gods honor his sacrifice and reward him in the next life.”

“I’m so sorry.”

His eyes are closed. That comforts you in some tiny way, that he looks whole, uninjured, like he could just be sleeping, but you know that isn’t the case.

Brennan’s breaths are even, pulse steady. The wound looks days old now, the fresh blood coating the skin the only evidence that he had nearly died today. He’ll pull through, as long as you can get out of here.

You say a prayer to Malek on your friend’s behalf, casting one last glance at his unmoving body, and gather Brennan into your arms -- he’s still breathing, but limp, exhausted. You can carry him out of here, but where will you go?

A man bearing a crossbolt steps into the ballroom.

You make no movement toward your weapon, still holding Brennan’s body to your chest. “We surrender,” you rasp, praying he will take pity on a pair of bloodsoaked young lovers and their fallen comrade.

He steps closer, not responding.

The words escape you before you can think. The old language feels foreign on your tongue, misshapen from years of disuse. “I am a daughter of the house Lindell, and a citizen of Tyrrendor. I have sworn an oath to-”

“I know who you are, Lady,” he says. “Come with me.”

He stops in front of an abandoned farmhouse, painted gold in the sunset. “Bathe, sleep. I’ll be back when I can.”

You remain by Brennan’s side. You stitch up his wounds, wash the dried blood from his skin, count his heartbeats as he continues to sleep.

Night comes, bringing freezing wind through the cracked windows, and you climb into the bed beside him, pulling the few blankets you’d found over the pair of you. He curls into your side, seeking warmth — his skin is still cold, but not as icy as it had been when you limped him over here.

When you wake the next morning, the man has not yet returned.

“Ban?” You ask quietly. You haven’t heard from the dragon since you’d dismounted over a day ago, but she must still live, as you do.

“Nearby, with Marbh,” she reassures. “Tairn has returned to Basgiath to be with his mate. It will take years for him to recover from this loss, but he will live on.”

You continue to stroke Brennan’s hair, taking solace in the steadiness of his breathing.

“Your devotion to the mender is the strongest I have seen from any human,” she says quietly.

“He has become the air I breathe. It was unbearable when he…” you don’t even want to think the words. “I don’t know what I would have done, had Naolin not intervened.”

Brennan stirs, stretching in the cute way you’ve seen him do so many times after waking up, scrunching his face at the bright morning light streaming into the room. He takes you in, thanking the gods that the only injury you bear is a yellowing bruise on your cheek. A gentle hand cradles your face, and it vanishes.

“Naolin?” He asks quietly, and something tells you he already knows deep down.

You shake your head, your eyes brimming with tears. “He gave his life to save you.”

He looses a shuddering breath, and you gather him into your arms, crying together.

You attempt to mentally prepare yourself to enter the assembly room, adjusting your posture -- shoulders back, chin up, eyes forward.

“Not a word,” you warn Brennan quietly. “Keep your shields up, like I taught you.”

“I didn’t know we were taking prisoners,” a lanky teenage boy calls, eyeing you from his perch on the edge of a table. In the years you’ve been away, he’s grown into his father’s dark features, and the lazy confidence that can only come with a noble title. “I was wondering when you’d be back from playing soldier. Have they brought you here to negotiate?”

“Lovely to see you again too, Xaden,” you say dryly, addressing the boy by name, and Brennan’s gaze whips toward you in shock. “No, I am not here to negotiate. We are here to surrender, and if you will have us, we will take your side in this fight to free Tyrrendor from those who have oppressed her for centuries.”

“They would be an asset to us, should this prove to not be a setup,” one of the elders says, keeping his hand on the hilt of his longsword.

“She has proved her allegiance to Tyrrendor time and time again,” Xaden defends coldly, dismissing the man who looks old enough to be his grandfather. “It is the general's son that I’m more concerned with.”

You look him directly in the eye as you speak, raising your chin. “Sorrengail is a strong rider and skilled mender, but above all, he is a good man. I could not have chosen anyone better to share the crown with when the day comes.”

Brennan looks at you like he has no idea who you are, trying to discern if this is a dream.

Xaden finds this amusing. “She really didn’t tell you? Always so secretive, that one. Your girlfriend is heir apparent to the Duchy of Lindell, as I am to Aretia, where you stand.”

He looks to the elders, who all nod in affirmation, deeming your appraisal of Brennan satisfactory. “It’s good to have you back, Lady. Things were getting boring without you.”

You lower your head to him in thanks, Brennan quickly copying you.

You tug Brennan into the hall after you’re dismissed.

“Did you really mean that?” He asks, head still spinning.

“Every word,” you reply. “From the moment you extended that hand to me in our first year at Basgiath, I knew you were good to your core, Brennan Sorrengail. It would be an honor to share my duty with you.”

“Your mate needs you,” Marbh says, making a rare appearance.

Your heart drops. You sprint down the valley trail back to the house, attempting to ascertain what had happened, but you aren’t given a response. Marbh has always been vague.

You find Brennan tucked into a corner of your shared room, back pressed to the wall. He’s clutching a piece of parchment that you recognize to be a Basgiath death roll. He extends it to you wordlessly, and your eyes race down the list, searching for Mira, his mother, another of your friends…

The final name on the list, below the rider’s quadrant cadets, almost as an afterthought… Major William Sorrengail. His father.

“Oh, Bren,” you breathe, gathering him into your arms, “I’m so sorry.”

His entire body shakes with a sob, and it takes everything in you to not cry as well, but you remain strong, needing to be there for him. “I knew I’d never see him again,” he says in a cracked whisper, “but now…” But now it’s real.

You’d never met the man, and now you never will, but you know what a profound impact Brennan’s father had on his life, imparting so many of the qualities that you admire about Brennan; his dedication to his studies, his respect for the scribes that so many others dismiss or overlook, his unwavering compassion…

You offer a silent prayer to Malek on his behalf, asking that He show the scribe the same kindness that he had shown others in life.

“I don’t know why, or how,” Brennan rasps, “I don’t know who was there with him in the end, if Mira and Violet got to say goodbye, if my mother…” he can’t finish the sentence, words cut with shaking breaths. He loses the strength to hold himself up, collapsing into your embrace. “I should be there,” he sniffles, “I should have been there.”

“I know how much you love him. He knew too, I’m sure he did. They all do.” You hold him tighter, stroking his hair. “The girls are strong. They will mourn, but they will get through it together.”

He’s run out of tears, leaving him with a headache and a hollow feeling in his chest. He eventually relaxes, not saying a word as you smooth down the soft waves of his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He’s fallen asleep. You just hope his dreams will be kind to him.

“Enough,” you command, and all heads turn toward you. “I will not have you disrespect Riorson nor his partner in his own home. Have you forgotten what he has done for our young?”

Ulices stiffens. “My apologies, Lady.” He says the title with an ounce of venom, but yields, returning to his seat.

Violet continues to study you. You’re dressed simply, head to toe rider’s black mixed with traditional Tyrrish leather armor and intricate braids that she has only seen drawn in history books, but it’s obvious in your posture that you’re nobility - you do not dip your head below the horizon even for a moment, and you speak with the confidence that others will listen.

“We have better things to do than argue about what should have happened. There is no turning back time,” you say calmly. “I agree that we have been given a legion of students rather than trained warriors, but it has become our job to train them.”

Brennan speaks next. He’s been silent since the meeting started. “What professors have joined us should resume modified versions of their courses, and we will fill in the gaps. Match up those with similar signets for mentorship. Emeterrio can continue to lead combat training, and Devera Battle Brief. Kaori has not joined us, but I think there is an obvious replacement.”

You’re saddened by the news, but you smile softly at his praise.

Violet realizes that the scribbled amendments in the dragons section of Brennan’s book weren’t Mira’s, but yours. You’ve been close for years, then. You must have brought him here with you when you deserted. Part of her wonders if you’d attended Basgiath because you wanted to, or as a spy.

“Do not question the royal one’s integrity,” Tairn warns her, but does not elaborate further.

“The riot has decided that everyone here can be trusted,” you state. “And if anyone turns out not to be, we will do what we have to do, without hesitation, for the good of the movement.”

There’s sounds of agreement from the other six, and then the meeting is over.

“Hey,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe, clutching a bloodied rag to his face.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Mira’s fist happened,” he explains, lifting it, and you wince at the sight of his nose, the bridge split and bruising. “I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

Your heart twists. Brennan hasn’t been able to see his sisters for nearly a decade, spending the last six years in hiding and the two before that stationed across the continent with hardly enough leave to travel back and forth to Basgiath. For Mira to have punched him straight in the face instead of the tearful hug he’d dreamed of… it must have crushed him.

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, careful not to bump his nose. “I’ll talk to her,” you say softly. “Go see the healers.”

You’ve only met the middle Sorrengail in passing, nearly ten years ago now, but she’s exactly as Brennan had described her; a younger version of their mother, and just as strong-willed. Evidently, she remembers you, scowling and crossing her arms at the sight of you, but still standing at attention — there’s no missing the Major’s insignia on your chest. Violet stands as well, but doesn’t look as sour as her sister.

You wave a hand. “At ease. I am not here to issue orders, rather to talk about your brother.”

Mira prickles, Violet looking concerned.

You choose your words carefully. “I do not expect either of you to forgive him overnight, nor for you to forgive me for my complacency in this matter. All I ask is that you show him some compassion. It has been hard for him too, being apart from his family. When your father-”

“That is not a sentence you should finish,” Mira interrupts.

“Mira,” Violet scolds softly, “be nice.”

“No,” she snaps, “I don’t think you understand. We mourned him. We called him a hero, thought he died honorably in battle when he really just deserted and changed his name.”

“He did die,” you say, and the eyes of both women flit back toward you. You look over your shoulder. “He bled out on the floor of that ballroom, and his heart stopped. Our friend siphoned away his life to save him.”

“Tairn’s previous rider,” Violet says in a whisper, as if the dragon will not hear her that way.

“Yes. Naolin.” You say his name with a heavy voice. No wonder Tairn won’t speak to her of the one who came before. That explains the gruff dragon’s defense of you, too.

Mira is silent, likely feeling guilt over her outburst as she realizes her brother still lives in the house he’d been killed in, with the son of the man who had ended his life.

“The elders gave him the name Aisereigh — meaning resurrected — as a layer of protection from those who hold vendettas against your mother. It hurt him to take it, and to not be able to give me the Sorrengail name, but it was necessary for his survival.”

Violet’s eyes land on the band circling your ring finger, a smooth strip of silver carved with Tyrrish runes. Brennan had worn a matching one when she’d seen him the day after War Games, but she hadn’t thought anything of it until now. “You’re married.”

You nod. “Three years ago, right on that bluff at the top of the valley, on a gorgeous summer day. Both of us wish those he loves most could have been there.”

“Thank you,” Violet says quietly, “for staying with him through it all.”

“I have been by his side since our first year at Basgiath, and I will remain there as long as we shall live, as I have vowed to,” you reply with the same blunt conviction that she’s used to from Xaden — that must be a Tyrrish thing. “Now please excuse me. I have a class to teach in a few minutes.”

Mira lowers her head to you in a gesture of respect. “I’m sorry,” she says, but she does not say what for.

You give her a soft smile in return, heading back into the house.

“Major Aisereigh will be taking over your dragonkind course, as Professor Kaori did not elect to join us here,” Professor Devera announces.

It’s strange to be standing on the dais as an equal with the woman who’d had a hand in kidnapping you from Brennan’s bed to torture you eight years ago, but nearly everything about your life since that night has been strange.

“I don’t know precisely what Kaori did and did not cover thus far in the term, but given that every person in this room has managed to bond a dragon, you are clearly proficient, and I will treat you as such,” you begin. “Dragons are independent, often to a fault, but do not forget that your health depends on theirs. As riders, you must learn how to care for them properly. That’s what we will be focusing on for the remainder of the term, along with flight mechanics and keeping your seat under stress.”

You glance at Brennan, who is sitting incognito in the back row, broken nose now mended, and he nods, an easy smile on his face. You’re doing great.

The lesson passes easily, your students much more engaged than you remember your peers having been in Professor Kaori’s class.

“I will be needing volunteers to help with the maintenance of the riot while they’re grounded.”

At least thirty hands shoot straight up — half the class.

The trek up the valley wall is never easy, but you make winded conversation with several of the volunteers, mainly nervous first-years who confide that they need the extra practice.

You stop at the top of the trail, cupping a hand to your mouth and calling out a few short notes, and Banrion is at your side in seconds, shaking the ground with her landing. At least a dozen others land nearby, sitting upright in waiting.

“You’ve brought children,” she appraises, eyeing them with distaste.

“Cadets,” you correct, “that you will be helping me teach. So be nice.”

She chuffs softly. “Fine.”

“I have chosen some more agreeable members of the riot to aid me today, to ease you into their care, but let me make this clear,” you say to the class, who have retreated to give you and Ban a healthy distance. “the majority still find it deeply offensive to be addressed by a human that is not their rider. Unless your bonded has joined us today, please refrain from speaking to any directly.”

You wait for nods of affirmation. “Banrion and I will demonstrate pre-flight checks once, and then you will split into groups of two or three to do the same with the remainder here.”

Once you get everyone settled, you find Brennan — he’d tagged along quietly, not wanting to part ways after the morning’s chaos.

“Well done, Professor,” he says, smiling. “You just might make this a day job.”

You laugh. “Is this everything twenty-year-old Bren thought it would be?”

“It is,” he says quietly. “And more.”

You gaze out at the field of cadets. “Marked and unmarked, living in harmony.”

Brennan squeezes your hand in acknowledgment, remembering how scared you had been when the first marked ones left for Basgiath, and each year since. It had hurt you deeply when not all of them returned.

Tairn stalks up to you, dipping his head in greeting. “Good to see you again, royal one.”

You smile. “Glad you’re still around, big guy. You have made an excellent choice in Violet. How is the golden one?”

“Still dreamless,” he answers, not deigning to reply to your compliment.

You worry your lip between your teeth, concerned.

He casts a glance around at the young cadets in the vale, who are taking their tasks very seriously. “You remain as revered a leader as you were at Basgiath.”

You’re actually touched, but you won’t dare mention that to Tairn.

“It is not an easy feat to raise young,” a green scorpiontail says in agreement, looking down fondly at the first-years that are inspecting her claws for cracks, “but the two of you are doing a fine job.”

You smile. “And how are your young?”

“Safe,” she answers. “You may come see them after dark.”

“It would be an honor.”

“Professor?” A cadet calls from across the field, sounding mildly concerned.

You pull apart from Brennan reluctantly. “Duty calls. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Kiss for your thoughts?” you ask playfully, seeing the weary look on his face. It’s been a long day for him, with multiple arguments among the assembly and all the emotions of reuniting with Mira.

“I have both of my sisters back,” he breathes, still in disbelief. “I thought I’d never see them again.”

You lay a hand on his back, resting your head on his shoulder. “I spoke with them before class. Mira was particularly upset, but she softened when I told her what really happened.”

He’s quiet. “She has every right to hate me for what I did. She should despise me for the rest of my life.”

“But she doesn’t,” you remind him gently. “She holds anger, but she doesn’t hate you. You’re her brother, and she knows you love her. You wrote her an entire textbook on how to survive the rider’s quadrant. If that isn’t testament enough, I don't know what is.”

He shakes his head, smiling softly. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”

You grin, moving to climb into his lap. “Because I know you, and I know exactly what goes on in that beautiful brain of yours.”

“Yeah?” he asks, nose brushing against yours, a ringed hand settling on your waist. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Hmm. Probably about how long of a day it’s been, and how you’d like to unwind after all of it?”

“You’re absolutely right,” he says. “I’ll take that kiss now.”

You lean forward, connecting your lips to his, and the rest of the world falls silent, melting away until all that’s left is you, your husband, and the love you share, love that has endured death itself.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan aisereigh #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing fanfic #reader insert #x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #mine #dividers by user cafekitsune #Brennan and Duchess

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holylulusworld · 2 months

Text

Broken Rose (Prologue)

Summary: He may have stolen your kingdom and freedom – but he’ll never own your heart. Right?

Pairing: Alpha!Geralt of Rivia x Queen(Omega)!Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, mentions of death/fighting/blood, mentions of forced/arranged marriage trope, friends to enemies to ???, a/b/o, magic

Broken Rose masterlist

A broken rose. That’s what he called you the day he forced you to share his life and bed. Right after he defeated your brave knights, the undefeatable master of darkness, the monster with yellow eyes claimed you as his bride and mate.

Cries. The smell of blood, death, and despair still lingered in the back of your mind when he claimed not only your kingdom but your body too.

The lost battle still tasted bittersweet on your tongue when he stole the first kiss and promised to make you his obedient queen.

He believed that you’ll bow your head and fulfill his every wish.

What he didn’t get was that roses have thorns, and they can cut deep into the flesh of someone who tries to pick them…

“Watch the left flank!” You yelled at your knights while holding your ground. A queen fighting alongside her knights and commoners to defend their homelands from the enemy.

“He’s merciless,” Adekin, one of your most trusted knights said. “We should retreat, my queen. You cannot die out here among us. Go back to the castle.”

“If I die, I’ll do it next to you and my knights,” you threw yourself into another fight, slicing the enemies invading your homeland open with the sword your father gifted to you. “This is my kingdom and my people. I will not back down!”

“He’s the black magician, the Witcher enchanting even beasts,” he cut the next enemy's head off. “We cannot withstand much longer, my queen. Please head back to the castle.”

“No!” You refused to fall back and run away like a coward. If your life ended tonight, it would end on your conditions. “This is my fight as much as yours. It’s my birthright to defend this country and feed the earth with my blood.”

“My queen,” Adekin protected you with his shield and struck another enemy down. “It’s an honor to fight alongside you. It will be an ever greater honor to die for you.”

“No one will die tonight,” you rammed your dagger into an attacker’s side. “He will not win.” You gritted your teeth. “This is our kingdom. The Witcher cannot have it.”

“Y/N, queen of Rosethra,” the ground shook when his voice cut through the night. The monsters attacking you stopped in their tracks, and your knights dropped their swords to the ground. “I came here to ask for your hand.”

“Go back to where you came from,” even now, he couldn’t enchant you with his magic. “Here is nothing for you, Geralt of Rivia. I will never bow for you. Kill me now if you are man enough.”

His laughter made you even angrier. You gripped your sword tighter and prepared for the final battle. “My sweet rose,” he stepped out of the darkness, smirking darkly because you were the last one standing.

Your knights fell to their knees, defeated by an invisible power holding them down.

“What are you doing to them?” You screamed as Adekin looked back at you with black eyes. “No…stop this!”

“Queen of Rosethra, I came here to unite our kingdoms,” he stepped toward you, his hands raised in surrender, but not defeated at all. “Give yourself to me, and your people will live. Your knights will live. No one must die tonight if you agree to become mine.”

You looked at Adekin, your fallen knight. He didn’t deserve to turn into one of the monsters following Geralt. You knew his magic could enslave your beloved people, and couldn't let them suffer because of your dignity and pride.

You gritted your teeth but kneeled in front of him.

For now, the battle was lost. So, you chose to save your people and give up on your freedom. You placed your sword in front of you and tilted your head in submission.

“If you shelter their lives and don’t turn them into monsters,” you glared up at Geralt, the man who used to be your confidant and friend, “I’m yours...”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #alpha!geralt of rivia x omega!reader #a/b/o #Broken Rose (Prologue)#geralt of rivia x you #dark!geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x y/n

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idkfitememate · 4 months

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Hey pookie

So i lovvveeee the harbingers. Can you do like penguin reader (or any other snow related animal) running around the Zapolyarny Palace messin with the harbingers and there like 'what the actual fuck. Who let a dam animal in this place ' them trying to catchus but we just like mewhahaha nuh uh

I refuse to believe Snezhnaya will have a single docile mob so I’m gonna make my own! Imagine a Polar Bear and a Leopard Seal mixed with one! (Walrus tusks?.. Walrus tusks.) I’m gonna call it… a Large Tusked Polaral! Anyway I’ll put a mild description before we start, but just ask if you want a full description, or a drawing ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡!

Large Tusked Polaral: To break it down, imagine the front of a polar bear, the back of a leopard seat, and the tusks of a walrus. Its front arm end with flippers and are longer than the tail in the back. The front flippers do look like paws though. The teeth are a mixture between the three, they have the huge tusks of walruses.

Taking a walk through the Zapolyarny Palace had become a common pastime for The Rooster whenever he had nothing more to do. Taking in the scenery… breathing in the frosty air of his nation, taking in the sights… the Large Tusked Polaral following behind him….

… Wait. The large Tusked Polaral following behind him?

Pulcinella turned around to face the fifteen ft tall - and it was still on its flippers - beast of a monster. It had to press its face to the floor in order to look at him, its warm breath hitting his face.

Pulcinella was never a fighter. Maybe back in his youth, but now he was a leader. He didn’t even have a vision, preferring to rely on his Servicemen rather than fight himself. So being in front of one of the most - if not the most - dangerous monsters in all of Teyvat without those service men…

At least it’d be an honorable death. They say a Polaral only chooses the strongest to die by her claws. To be struck down by one was a glorious way to go.

So as Pulcinella started to make his peace with his oncoming death, you lifted yourself back up and continued in your way, hobbling down the hallway. Pulcinella, who was shocked at the lack of his blood on the walls, followed behind, now curious.

He watched as you huffed and sniffed around the halls, occasionally scaring a lower rank shitless.

It wasn’t until you wondered down a wing specifically for one of the Harbingers that he got an idea. Speed walking in front of you, he stopped you by a hand on your nose. You sniffed at it before continuing on your way.

A smirk lay beneath his bushy mustache, and he quickly continued walking behind you as you shuffled your way down the wing of The Marionette. Sandrone’s workshop.

The sound of screaming not being caused by her was enough the drag Sandrone out of her workshop. Her large boots thudded across the floor as her puppet sat in her hand. Many smaller bots crawled across the floor like spider, filling the space.

She gripped the coat of a running fatuus that speed past her, forcing them to stop.

“What is happening?” Were the only words that left her lips. The fatuus in front of her stuttered out a couple words, thought he tripped over every other word. All she could make out was “The Rooster” and “Large Tusked Polaral”. She then let him go and off he ran.

Sandrone looked at the small bots that ran across the floor and tilted her head forward. They immediately ran forward through the hall and out of sight…

… Before a large roar was heard and they all came scampering back. Her gaze immediately snapped up and the sound of something loud clambering down the hallway. She readied herself for a fight, and found herself in front of what seemed to be an angered Polaral basically running at her.

And as she was ready to attack, she heard a voice call out at her to stop.

“Wait! I apologize, truly, but you see, I was just simply taking my darling here out for a walk and they got off their lease, again my sincerest apologies, Marionette.” Pulcinella spoke with clear sarcasm in his voice as you continued to barrel towards her, only to stop right before her and start sniffing her up and down.

She only stared at the large beast in front of her, then back at The Rooster.

“This is… your pet?” She questioned.

“Yes.”

“This Polaral?”

“Yes.”

“This Large Tusked Polaral is under your care?”

“Yes.”

She only continued to stare.

“Well anyway, we’ll be off. I suppose I will be seeing at the later meeting?” She stayed silent, but now had a disgruntled expression on her face.

“I will take that as a yes. Goodbye, Marionette.” And with that he walked in front of you and the both of you hobbled away.

“…How disdainful.” Was all she said as she walked back into her lab.

And later did come.

All the Harbingers had to deal with something to do with a Large Tusked Polaral wondering the halls, scaring the lower ranks shitless, destroying property, and honestly just causing havoc.

What non of them were expecting, however, was to see that very Large Tusked Polaral…

Next to the Rooster during their meeting.

“…Why is it here?” Asked Pantalone.

“They are my pet.” Answered Pulcinella.

“… May I-“

“No you may not, Dottore.”

“… May I-“

“The same goes for you Childe.”

“Awe.”

The silence continued as all the Harbingers - minus The Jester - stared at the beast beside the small man.

“…Why do you even have it? You have men. Do you need the extra man power?” Asked Arlecchino asked. Her hands were crossed as she sat, now leaning against the table.

“No, I simply wished them as my pet.” The small man responded, making The Knave huff.

“May I pet them?” Asked Columbina. And when she got a nod, she immediately skipped over and ran her fingers through your fur, causing happy huffs and barks to come from your lips. All eyes were on you as Childe spoke up.

“I’ve never heard those kinds of noises come from one of those before.” He said with a smile. You even began to wiggle happily under the woman’s touch, making him gasp in amazement.

“Oh! Now I want to pet them, may I?” He asked with a smile.

Again, all he got was a nod.

And he immediately ran over and began petting you, making your noises grow in volume and your wiggles grow in size.

You actually flipped yourself on your side and allowed them access to your stomach, something that was never charted before in the behaviors of any Polaral. You even had the equivalent of a grin on your face, your eyes shut in trust.

“Fascinating.” Dottore said with a grin, only to be met with a glare from Pulcinella. He only smiled and shrugged his shoulders in response.

“And what is going on here? Why is a wild beast within the walls of the Zapolyarny Palace?”

As Pierro approached from the shadows, the room got colder. Immediately announcing the presence of both the top Fatui Harbinger and the Cryo Archon. All banter ceased and your petting was stopped causing a whine to leave your lips.

You looked to the two Harbingers who had left to go to their places at the table you were all sat at. And then you were shushed by Pulcinella. Oh hell no.

“You see, I was just taking a stroll. And I decided they should come with me for one of these walks. I assume something caught their eye and I apologize for letting them loose and - Wait. Where are you going get back here-“ Pulcinella’s little speech was cut off by you flopping away from him.

All the Harbingers watched as you speed down the table and past Pierro, and up towards the stairs to The Tsaritsa’s throne. Immediately The Jester raced to get you down but was stopped by a hand raised by the Archon.

They all watched with bated breath as you climbed up and up towards her, stopping before her. They all silently readied to attack, before watching you roll over, revealing your stomach to the woman with a whine.

And while Pulcinella started to apologize, all eleven were stopped by a sound none of them had heard. Or if they had, it was a rare noise.

The noise of their Archon laughing.

A giggled escaped her frozen lips and she ran a cold hand over your furred stomach, you slamming a a flipped over the other side - akin to a dog shaking a led when scratched.

She continued to giggle as she felt your fur between her fingers. Finally a subject who did not fear her nor did they wish to user her wins as a means for theirs.

“You lie in no fault, Pulcinella. Even is you have lied of this one being your pet” she began, and all the other glared at the chuckling man, “Though I believe I have found the perfect candidate to be my own.”

Jaws dropped as she spoke her last word. Her frozen over heart thumped lightly in her chest as her unoccupied hand slid over your head and messed with your ears. Your barks became louder as they echoed across the large room.

Perhaps you’d be the key to truly unlocking her frozen heart.

I personally like the idea that The Marionette is not the girl, but the large mecha holding her. Making the girl a literal “Marionette”. Anyway, I hope I delivered! I was a little tired when writing this, if you couldn’t tell but I hope it turned out good enough ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა!

#anon <3 #asks <3 #Large Tusked Polaral!Creator

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rpmemes-galore · 4 months

Text

raw lines from a variety of sources ... sentence starters

"Then perish."

"Pick a god and pray."

"Even fate picks its favorites."

"Everything happens so much."

"I pity the fool that lives like you."

"Then become the dirt I walk on."

“Confidence is quiet. You’re not.”

"I am a monument to all your sins."

“You said I killed you. Haunt me, then!”

“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?“

"You cannot kill me in a way that matters."

"If you want me to die you can just say so."

"Violence for violence is the rule of beasts."

"Your secrets are safe with my indifference."

"Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?"

"We might be in the history God abandoned."

"I will face God and walk backwards into hell."

"I can’t go to Hell. I’m all out of vacation days."

"The light inside me is broken, but I still work."

"Don't leave me, dear. Haunt me like a memory."

"I commend my soul to any god that can find it."

“I have been through hell and come out singing.”

"I will die on this hill before I bend on this matter."

"You are strong, child. But I am beyond strength."

"If there can be no victory, then I will fight forever."

"I cannot hold back the tide of your bad decisions."

“What an exhausting thing it is to be called a hero.“

"To become God is the loneliest achievement of all."

"You cannot condemn those who build your throne."

"No cause is lost as long as one fool is left to fight for it."

"You kneel before my throne unaware it was built on lies."

"My ancestors are smiling on me. Can you say the same?"

"If God wanted you to live, he would not have created me."

“Love is like ghosts; Few have seen it, but everybody talks.”

“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.”

“I hope you heal from the things no one ever apologized for.“

"If you should ever get to heaven, I’ll be there to make it hell."

"No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle."

"You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain."

"God has cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished."

"Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you’ve won."

"There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act childish at times."

"You could sooner divert a river from its course than deny my nature."

"We both stared into the abyss, but when it looked back… you blinked."

"I will seize destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing."

"The anger in your heart warms you now, but will leave you cold in your grave."

"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me."

"If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight just like I always have."

"Do you think God lives in heaven because he, too, fears what he has created?"

"I forgive but I will never, ever forget. Don’t mistake my kindness for gullibility."

“Someday you will have to answer for your actions, and god may not be so merciful.”

"What is better? To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"

“You are alone, child. There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people.”

"You took a pure and beautiful thing, and you beat out everything good, to suit your ends."

"We all make mistakes. That’s what happens when you’re brave enough to make decisions."

“I am not responsible for actions of the imaginary version of me you have inside your head.“

"I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough."

“They dropped the world on your shoulders and called you Atlas. How long can you hold the weight?”

"I’ve heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering. And tonight I intend to make you very wise."

"Stand in the ashes of a thousand dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer."

"The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor. What an injustice."

"Across all worlds, all times, no matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful."

"The bar was so low it was practically an tripping hazard in hell… yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil."

"What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now."

"I hear your questions constantly. They come to me in my dreams like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god."

"I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

"Too many people have opinions on things they know nothing about. And the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have."

"Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show."

"One day, you will be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe, and you will have to justify the space you’ve filled."

#misc #rp meme #sentence starters

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m1d-45 · 1 year

Text

duality of man

summary: foul legacy only bends to childe’s will, he isn’t fully controlled by him.

a/n: foul legacy speaks in bold, childe speaks italicized. internal/mental speech is quoted ‘like this’ rather than simply italicized for the sake of childe, as tumblr does not have underline capabilities :/

word count: ~2.1k

-> warnings: spoilers for childe lore / liyue archon quest, childe is his own warning (and is frequently bloodthirsty and strange), violence and gore, it/it’s pronouns for foul legacy because it’s childe’s pov and also i said so, imposter sagau things. technically isn’t 100% canon compliant according to wikipedia.

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky

childe stalked through the forest, the foliage tinted by foul legacy’s vision. this form wasn’t the best for stealth, but it would help him find you faster.

he could hear your heavy breathing from the corner you backed yourself into, and grinned.

“surrender is a valid option,” he purred, voice warped and distorted through the heavy mask. your breath hitched, and his smile only grew. he had you. all he had to do was reach, reach with the clawed hands of his abyssal form and drag you out of wherever you’d hidden and he’d earn his place at his gods side. to be the one to find and kill you was an honor, one he was not keen on giving up.

he could imagine it now. dragging you along with his claws sunk deep into your neck, whatever blood left in your body staining his hands. your corpse would fall, lifeless, at his god’s feet, and he’d be the one to reap the rewards of their love.

you would not escape. he would not leave empty-handed.

he couldn’t.

childe tried to reach for the bush you were hiding behind, but his arm wouldn’t move.

no, not his arm, he realized. it was disobeying.

‘what are you doing?’ he hissed into his mind, pushing with all his might. still, the arm of foul legacy wouldn’t move. it was strange; it had never disobeyed before, and aside from the initial period to get used to piloting a body, he’s never had any issues.

‘i cannot allow you to kill them.’

‘what? why? if you want to have a hand in it, i’ll let you have a while to-‘

‘no. they are not to die.’

his arms moved of their own will, moving aside the branches much slower than he would have.

‘i refuse to allow the death of the one who made me.’

what?

the leaves eventually reveal you, tucked in as small a space as you can manage, holding a broken-off spearhead. your clothes are tattered, leaves caught within the creases. your hand is shaking so badly childe doubts you could hurt anybody but yourself with it.

your mouth opens like you want to say something, but nothing comes out. a thrill runs down childe’s spine at the fact that they’ve scared you from words, but it’s quickly overrun by the concern coming from foul legacy.

wait… concern?

“your grace… how ruined you have become.”

your eyes flick between the pearl of its eye and the hand, likely trying to decide which is a better target, and childe wants to laugh. he wants to urge you to strike, to watch as you fruitlessly spend your energy bashing that spearhead into foul legacy’s armor, blunting the steel against it.

the devouring deep doesn’t let him speak.

“please… i’m sorry.”

normally, hearing somebody beg for their life would make childe’s day, week if they do it prettily enough, but this… some part of his heart, as beaten and rotted it is, hurts.

whatever sadness he feels quickly burns into rage. what right did foul legacy have over his emotions? making him pity this imposter, as if you weren’t fit to die the moment your treacherous tongue claimed you were somebody you weren’t.

“i know, i know.” legacy’s claw extends and you flinch, feet kicking up dirt as you press yourself further against whatever rock you’re against.

“stay away from me!”

foul legacy hums a low note, and childe wants to scream as his hand falls to the dirt. what power did you have over it? why didn’t it just take whatever it was it wanted from you?

‘why are you hesitating?’

‘you wouldn’t understand.’

the first sensible thing it’s said. he didn’t understand.

“it is alright. i am not the one you fear.“

“yes you are! i… i know you, childe.”

childe allowed himself a smile. no matter how much foul legacy pushed aside his commands, it would always have to deal with his reputation. the fact that he disrupted its plans just as it did his brought him a little joy from the situation.

“i am not him, leading light. please… do not be afraid.”

‘leading light’?

childe had heard many names and titles for the divine creator in his time, and knew that that one in particular was favored by abyssal creatures. he’d heard it shouted and screamed, people slaughtered in the name of the light that they claim leads them from the abyss. he even adopted it himself, at one point, for the first few years after he was freed from it himself. he’d killed with the title on his tongue, and ripped out others’ that dared to dirty it.

all of this to say that foul legacy was claiming you were the divine creator.

you. you.

you, who dared to walk with a face that wasn’t yours, to gaze with eyes that didn’t belong to you. you.

he could admit that he didn’t sense the aura of the creator—with a bitter, sour tongue, but admitted nonetheless—due to his time spent in the abyss. his soul was too rotten to resonate with theirs, only able to find solidarity in their violent retribution cast down on those that dared cross them. he acknowledged that he was beyond saving, that even the highest of the high could barely begin to fill the gaping maw of the abyss inside of him. he’d… not accepted, but come to terms with it.

but even he did not dare to call another by their name.

“you’re… you’re what?”

“i can hear him.” foul legacy’s hand extended once more, slower, gentler, with much more care than any other action childe had seen from it. “he is in my mind, but we are not the same. i can promise, while i am here, no harm will come to you.”

you didn’t trust it. good, as childe was starting to distrust foul legacy as well.

“you… you’re saying you’re…?” the spearhead in your hand lowered, some of the fear—regrettably—fading from your eyes. recognition flooded instead, and childe was confused as to how you found comfort in a creature of the abyss. he knew he had a reputation, one stained with violence and blood, and surely that would extend to it as well, right? foul legacy… it couldn’t be more trustworthy than him.

“i am his foul legacy. i am the devouring deep.”

its clawed hand finally reached yours, and you let it close around your wrist even as hesitation shone in your eyes. your lips parted, but whatever you had to say died before it spoke again. “please… can you find it in your heart to trust once more? if only for me, if only for a moment?”

childe tried once more to take over the form, and was again met with the stone of foul legacy’s will. he huffed; it shouldn’t be getting this close to you, and he shouldn’t have to watch as it did. it shouldn’t have even disobeyed in the first place.

“why don’t you hate me?”

foul legacy sighed, the sound warped and roughened by its mask. “this world- no, these people are fools. do not hold the mistakes of the many in your heart. they do not understand the weight of their actions. they are being pushed, puppetted by another.”

‘what are you talking about?’

‘hold your tongue.’

childe was in shock. first it went against him by taking over his actions, then it claimed you were the sacred creator, then told him to shut up?

you were sitting up, carefully daring to come closer, and childe beat at the boundaries of his will with all his strength. he couldn’t let this go on any longer. he could take being disobeyed, he could take his anger out on some innocents with its hand once it was tired enough to give him control, but for it to disrespect his god?

he could not- he would not let that go so easily.

childe pushed at his arm with all his might as foul legacy sat itself on the floor, tugging you closer. he sent the command to move at least a thousand times, begging his own hand to squeeze, to snap the bones in your wrist, to show any sign that he still had control in this body.

the most he got was a twitch of the ring finger.

he refused to allow foul legacy to take him over like this. he could not let it shatter his reputation and attack his beliefs like this. it could not say that you were his god, it could not say that it was in control, it could not say that childe was wrong. it should not hold you will claws that should kill, and you should not gaze so deeply into the pearl of a monster’s eye.

it was almost as if you could see him within it, your searching eyes piercing right into his. he hoped you could, that you could see how much he hated the situation he found himself in. how much he hated you, you for warping his foul legacy’s mind, you for making it think you were it’s god.

“how long do i have?”

“hm?”

“before he comes back.”

childe tried again to assert his presence. he failed.

you shifted closer to foul legacy, sitting against its side. part of childe wanted to laugh at you, at the fact that you dared to lean on a creature of the abyss. part of him wanted to sneer and call you pathetic for it.

the same part that knew it was fruitless even as he tried to follow through on it.

foul legacy put its arm around you, pulling you into its side. the glass of its eye bumped against the top of your head, words of reassurance buzzing in its head.

childe huffed to himself, feeling his anger start to bubble again. there was no reason for this behavior. there was no reason for foul legacy to try and influence him by bleeding their thoughts together, nor for it to subject him to this. even it should recognize the creator, even if by context clues from the people around it.

and if this was all a trick, childe could accept it. if foul legacy had whispered into his mind, told him that yes, it knew, it believed, then he could tolerate the attacks against his god. he could bite back his words and let legacy do what he did best: follow orders.

if this was a ploy, childe would be fine. but foul legacy’s claws never dug into your side, and the whispers it spoke were not of retribution, but of reverence. how he wished it would just obey, even if not his orders but theirs.

follow the orders of the true god, who was in their palace, waiting for their trusted followers to capture and kill you. sitting, waiting for your corpse to be tossed at their feet, waiting for their loyal followers to carry out their word. the true creator, their god, not you. not you, not any other fake that dared to imitate them, and not those that behaved as foul legacy did here, following the impersonators and claiming they were real.

foul legacy hissed in his mind. ‘still your traitorous tongue.’

‘i won’t! if you took a moment to even think-’

‘and if you paused to allow yourself to do the same, you would agree.’

he did think, he had plenty of time to think when foul legacy was- was almost cuddling you, the warp of its voice doing nothing to mask the affection within it. he can’t move, he cant take control, and it has the gall to say he should think? all he’s able to do is think! he could sit here for an eternity, listening to the quiet rumble of legacy’s voice, mulling over every action he has or could taken, and he still wouldn’t be convinced. he wouldn’t agree. all he would be is sore, tired, and angry.

and of all the ways he could spend his time… he could fight for eternity, he could hit at the boundary between their brains with mental fists that never tired, he could give himself a headache with how hard he tried to dig his hand into your side. he could plan out his revenge against foul legacy, he could start to draft the prayer of repentance he’d surely have to raise to his god, he could do so much and yet precious little.

and that beast wanted him to think?

inside a body that wasn’t his, childe screamed.

#sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #childe #sagau childe #tartagila #sagau tartaglia #foul legacy #sagau foul legacy #genshin #sagau impostor au #foul legacy x reader #sure why not #‘This power has no relation to his Delusion’ shut the FUCK up wikipedia #it’s MY fanfiction and I get to choose the canon.#foul legacy is somebody he learned to harness through his delusion #i don’t give a shit if it’s a ‘talent’ or ‘skill’ and that legacy ‘isn’t a sentient being at all’ it’s called storytelling #words cannot describe how much i hated editing this shit #let ALONE porting it to tumblr. actual hell.#editing to montero by mr nas x. this is the lgbt experience /hj #fuck it i’ll post this 12 hours before i’m meant to. if god has a problem with it he can kill me himself.#i should not have done that. Regret[TM]#post once every 4 days or twice within 6 hours. this is my curse; this is my burden; this is the eternity i am doomed to face

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kittycatlukey · 4 months

Text

“I Love You.” — L.K.

Tagging @alespov ✨

Leon Kennedy x Fem Reader

Part 1/1

Warning: mild language, violence, usage of weapons, death, angst, and some RE4 spoilers!

You and Leon were good friends. Replace good with best. You two confided in each other, protected one another, and were in love but it was left unspoken. But it was obviously felt. There was a pull between you that couldn’t be denied. And anyone with a pair of eyes could see you and Leon cared for each other. You would die if it meant keeping the other alive. That’s what love is supposed to be, right?

“I’ve been waiting for you, rookie.” Krauser flipped his knife in the air and caught it. “Oh, worried about the girl, is that it? Hmm, that’s just like you. You always had poor judgment. You’d better be worried about the one beside you too.” He chuckled, taunting Leon. “But if you think I’m going to let both of you out of here alive… you’re even more naive than I thought. You can’t save them. You can’t save anyone!”

Your heart was pounding against your chest as you stood beside Leon.

“Give it up, Krauser!” Leon yelled at him. “Being a lackey for these maniacs… won’t bring your men back. And what the hell for? Revenge on the government? You think they would want that?”

“Revenge? You think I’m doing all this… for revenge?” Krauser asked Leon, looking down at him.

“Isn’t that what this is all about?” Leon questioned.

“You see, in that jungle, I had a revelation. The most important thing in this world is pure, unadulterated power! Los Iluminados have given me that.” Krauser stated.

Leon responded in retaliation, “You know, you were always an asshole. But at least you had some kind of code, some honor! And look at you now.”

“Enough reminiscing. Move out and draw fire, soldier.” Krauser did a backflip and drew on Leon with his assault rifle.

And for some reason, time didn’t slow, it felt as if time quickened. As soon as I seen Krauser had his gun aimed at Leon, I moved in front of him. I had moved just at the right time.

And I had been shot, taking not one but three bullets for Leon. One hit my left shin, another hit my left thigh, and the last one hit the right side of my stomach.

In that moment, I felt my entire body go numb. I couldn’t feel anything as Leon dragged me behind cover. He then ripped parts of his t-shirt off in an attempt to stop my bleeding, but we both knew it would be futile.

“Y/N, why would you do that?! Taking bullets for me?! Are you crazy?!” Leon had shouted, tears evident in his now reddened eyes.

“I would never let you die, Leon.” I murmured, feeling light headed already. “Get up and kill that sick son of a bitch. I’ll be fine for now.”

Leon nodded, the color had already left his face.

“And hey.” I grabbed his hand, staring into his ocean blue eyes. “I love you, Leon.”

“Y/N… I love you.” Leon spoke, his voice wavering. “I’m sorry.”

And with that, he had went to fight Krauser. The last thing I heard before I passed out was Krauser’s voice.

“Better run, rookie!”

~~~~

My body was shaken until my eyes opened. My eyes fluttered openly slowly; they felt so heavy. At first, my vision was blurry. My eyes took a long time to focus but once they did, I noticed Leon was the one above me.

“You have to stay alive. Please. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.” He pleaded before his bloody, calloused hands released my shoulders and cradled my face.

I wasn’t sure if the blood on his hands were mine, his, or Krauser’s. Maybe even a combination of the three.

“Goddamnit, stay awake!” His loud voice forced my eyes open again that I didn’t realize I had closed again.

“L-Leon. I don’t know how much longer I can stay… Just know… that I’ve loved y-you for a long, long time.” I told him weakly. “I’d do anything for you.”

Leon had tears rolling down his face. “I know. And I’d do anything for you… I’ve loved you for a long, long time too.”

I smiled when he said that. Even though I was dying from blood loss, I was the happiest I’d ever been knowing he felt the same way about me, and that he was getting to live. I didn’t care if it costed my life. I had nothing left to lose.

“You killed Krauser?”

He nodded.

“Good. I knew you could.” I replied before closing my eyes again. At this point the numbness had worn off and I could feel each bullet where they were lodged inside me. It felt like my whole body was on fire. “G-Go save Ashley. P-Please.” I spoke but it was barely a whisper. I don’t even know if it was even audible.

“No, no. Please stay with me, Y/N.” Leon pleaded once again, caressing my face. “I love you.”

It hurt me that he sounded so helpless and sad.

“Don’t die on me!” Leon shouted trying to wake me up again.

And this time, I had no choice but to let go…

~~~~

This was a sad one… Sorry about my writing being rusty. I haven’t written anything in about six months. Hope you all liked it though! Love you all! 🫶

If anyone is wondering, college is going great! It’s hard and stressful, but so fun. Just turned 20, and I start clinicals in May. I made the President’s List (4.0 GPA with at least 12 credit hours) each semester I’ve been going. I have some good friends, and have been staying very busy with homework and studying. I have a very important exam that I’ll have to start studying for so send me some positive vibes! They’re very much appreciated. Then my boards will be coming up. But it’ll all be worth it in the end! I graduate this year: December 2024! So excited about that! 🤍🩺🫀

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kazz-brekker · 2 years

Text

hotd episode 6 thoughts

ohhhh the family drama in this one was DELICIOUS, i enjoyed it very much.

i will admit i found the time skip a little jarring at first even though i knew it was coming, just because so much stuff happened during those years, but emma d’arcy and olivia cooke were absolutely SERVING and i loved them.

rhaenyra with her kids … rhaenyra obviously loving them so so much … rhaenyra smiling as soon as she saw baby joffrey … oh it was a lot.

as soon as older rhaenyra said “fuck” while climbing the stairs i was like. yes. absolutely. i love you, this is perfect casting.

i have been overly invested in daemon and rhaenyra’s children ever since reading f&b so i feel pretty emotional actually seeing jace, luke, joffrey, rhaena, and baela on my tv screen. they’re real! they’re little and squishy! i want desperately to protect them!

i’m really glad that they included alicent’s “do keep trying, sooner or later you may get one that looks like you” bit, it’s such an iconic line of bitchy dialogue.

i SO wish that we had gotten to see more of the relationship between rhaenyra and harwin (they didn’t even kiss!) but the little bits that we did see of it were really tender and lovely, especially with baby joffrey.

helaena targaryen being a weird little girl with a bug collection is something that can be so personal, actually.

also, her saying something like “you’ll have to close an eye” while aemond is talking to alicent about wanting a dragon … please oh PLEASE let helaena have prophetic dreams, that would be great.

i am aware that aemond targaryen is going to grow up to commit a ton of war crimes but honestly i just wanted to give him a hug in this episode.

alicent being constantly exasperated that her children are growing up to be a bunch of absolute weirdos was really, really funny.

we finally got to see vhagar! she is so large and so ugly and i love her very much and seeing her fly with caraxes was a lot of fun.

i’m really sad that we only got to see adult laena for one episode, she was so regal and self-possessed and i really liked her interactions with her daughters and the fact that she clearly doesn’t want to indulge daemon’s sulking.

the implication that daemon stayed away from westeros for 10 years because he couldn’t stand to be around rhaenyra when they were married to other people … oh man. oh boy. that is so much. can’t deal with this right now, sorry!

alicent and criston having a weird warped version of fealty and courtly love based on their shared hatred of the same person … yesssss i love it give me more.

harwin strong in his dilf era repeatedly punching criston cole in the face is literally everything i wanted to see from him in this episode.

viserys talking about the bonds of friendship being forged through combat together while aegon ii is beating up his nephews is just like. jesus christ. viserys please learn to read the room.

alicent and larys having their scheming little dinner together was so fun, especially since it’s clearly a common practice. seems like larys is going full-on villain and that’s going to be entertaining to watch.

kind of sad to see that daemon and rhaenyra’s marriages are both breaking down, but i can understand why since there are a lot of stressors in both of those relationships.

around halfway through this episode i was like “there seems to be a lot going on here, maybe i won’t have to watch harwin and laena die yet” so the last 10 minutes absolutely sucker-punched me.

rip lyonel strong you were a real one and possibly the only man in westeros with both honor and common sense.

i am not quite sure how i feel about laena’s death, i always thought childbirth was a lazy way to get rid of her and i can see that they were trying to add more dignity/autonomy but it also made it more violent … i’ll have to think on it.

the milf on milf violence in this was just really fun and i can’t wait to see more.

i am READY for the funeral drama next week, bring it on!

#pie says stuff #pie watches hotd #hotd #hotd spoilers #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #harwin strong #laena velaryon #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #larys strong #aegon ii targaryen

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edenmemes · 9 months

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asoiaf: a feast for crows starters

❝ i’m sorry that i never trusted you. i don’t know how to do that any more. ❞ ❝ you make it difficult for a man to swallow his anger. ❞ ❝ history is a wheel, for the nature of man is fundamentally unchanging. what has happened before will perforce happen again. ❞ ❝ the worst isn't done. the worst is just beginning, and there are no happy endings. ❞ ❝ words are like arrows. once loosed, you cannot call them back. ❞ ❝ you are a lioness, and it is for all the lesser beasts to fear you. ❞ ❝ anger is better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. ❞ ❝ kind? how boring that would be. i aspire to be wicked. ❞ ❝ sometimes there is no happy choice, only one less grievous than the others. ❞ ❝ when i make a jest i smile. do you see me smiling? do you hear laughter? ❞ ❝ beauty can sometimes mask deadly danger. ❞ ❝ i know what a burden you bear. you should let me share the load. ❞ ❝ you would be wise to not take me lightly...and wiser still not to make of me a foe. ❞ ❝ i need to sleep, but fear to dream. ❞ ❝ i do not doubt that kindness and mercy and forgiveness can still be found somewhere in this kingdom, but do not look for them here. ❞ ❝ no fight is hopeless till it has been fought. ❞ ❝ open your eyes and look about you. the kingdom is in ruins. ❞ ❝ my hand is hungry for a sword. i need to kill someone. ❞ ❝ it does no good to speak of roads not taken. ❞ ❝ i begin to think that all your words of love were lies. ❞ ❝ i pray that i never offend you. you are terrible when roused. ❞ ❝ a sweet face oft hides a sinner’s heart. ❞ ❝ when i am with you, i...i can scarcely think. you are all i ever dreamt of. ❞ ❝ i used to be someone, but now i’m not. ❞ ❝ suffering is everywhere...and grief and death. ❞ ❝ you ought to be pleading for my forgiveness rather than seeking to provoke me further. ❞ ❝ i have been here the whole time, waiting for you to come to me. ❞ ❝ no one who wears a crown is ever safe. ❞ ❝ i have touched more men that i can count. some with my lips, more with my axe. ❞ ❝ i love you too, but you’re a fool. a beautiful golden fool. ❞ ❝ i have been despised by better men than you. ❞ ❝ i never wanted to see half the things i've seen, and i've never seen half the things i wanted to. ❞ ❝ that man is as useless as nipples on a breastplate. ❞ ❝ sometimes there is no happy choice. only one less grievous than the others. ❞ ❝ most have been forgotten. most deserve to be forgotten. ❞ ❝ heroes will always be remembered. the best. the best and the worst. and a few who were a bit of both. ❞ ❝ we all dream of things we cannot have. ❞ ❝ i do not know who we are, if truth be told, nor where we might be going. i only know the road is dark. ❞ ❝ you lie. worse, you lie poorly. ❞ ❝ do you even know what honor is? ❞ ❝ this is not real. this is another bad dream, and soon i’ll wake. ❞ ❝ the rain feels good against my face. it feels like tears. ❞ ❝ i need you as i have never needed you before. ❞ ❝ there is no shame in being afraid, only in showing your fear. ❞ ❝ it is a good thing that i thrive on chaos. ❞ ❝ the times grow ever more interesting, and when the times are interesting you can never have too many swords. ❞ ❝ curses are only in songs and stories. ❞ ❝ you will forgive me if i am suspicious, but the times are troubled. ❞ ❝ fear cuts deeper than swords. ❞ ❝ be grateful that i have more honor than some. ❞ ❝ you do turn a pretty shade of pink when you blush. ❞ ❝ you would do well to ride with me. the roads are perilous. ❞ ❝ some doors are best left closed. ❞ ❝ it does no good to speak of things no man can change. ❞ ❝ why won’t they leave us be? we never did them any harm. ❞ ❝ i cannot die yet. there is something i still need to do. ❞ ❝ it’s time you told me the rest of your plan, don’t you think? ❞ ❝ every man should lose a battle in his youth, so he does not lose a war when he is old. ❞ ❝ words are wind. they cannot hurt you. let them wash over you. ❞ ❝ you are not the only one with wounds. ❞ ❝ when the cold wind blows the lone wolf dies and the pack survives. ❞ ❝ i will teach them what it means to put a lion in a cage. ❞ ❝ better to mock the game than to play and lose. ❞ ❝ knowledge is a weapon. ❞ ❝ you know me. if you want sweet words, look elsewhere. ❞ ❝ you reckless fool. what do you think you’re doing? ❞ ❝ you’ll be safe here. no one will know where you are but me. ❞ ❝ sorcery comes at a cost. ❞ ❝ i have never taken kindly to chastisement, as any number of dead men could tell you. ❞ ❝ so you’re brave as well as beautiful. ❞ ❝ this will cause more trouble than you know, i fear. ❞ ❝ will you throw your life away for pride? ❞ ❝ the crows will feast upon us all if you go on this way. ❞ ❝ our time together is at an end, i fear. ❞ ❝ spare me your japes, i have no taste for them. ❞ ❝ war makes monsters of us all. ❞ ❝ you cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night. ❞ ❝ i have a hole where my heart should be. ❞ ❝ i thank you, but i have no need of your protection. ❞ ❝ trust is earned. like gold. ❞ ❝ a lie is not so bad if it is kindly meant. ❞ ❝ far be it from me to question the word of such an honorable person. ❞ ❝ i will bring the head of any man who would betray you. ❞ ❝ noble words, but words are easy. deeds are hard. ❞ ❝ my father is very good at doing nothing. he calls it thinking. ❞ ❝ if you do not go, i will spend the rest of my life wondering what might have happened if i had. ❞ ❝ the sea is never weary. i must be as tireless. ❞ ❝ it’s strength that’s needed here, not chivalry. ❞ ❝ i did not come to you for comfort. ❞ ❝ you see the wonders that can be worked with lies and gold? ❞ ❝ an age of wonder and terror will soon be upon us, an age for gods and heroes. ❞ ❝ a ruler gets no rest. ❞ ❝ if you share your plans with no one, no one can betray you. ❞ ❝ i have a confession. ours was no chance encounter. ❞ ❝ you have your mother’s eyes. honest eyes, and innocent. ❞ ❝ am i still a thief if i put it back and no one ever knows? ❞ ❝ i am weak and full of sin, and scorn is more than i deserve. ❞ ❝ when have i provoked any man...unduly? ❞ ❝ i have never met a man i didn’t provoke, you should know that well enough by now. ❞ ❝ that’s a cold suspicious look if i ever saw one. ❞ ❝ you’ve faced more things this past year than most men face in a lifetime. ❞ ❝ there is a difference between fear and caution. ❞ ❝ it is my look they will flinch from, my frown they must fear. ❞ ❝ you have been disappointing me for years. ❞ ❝ why? tell me that. tell me why. ❞ ❝ i am surrounded by enemies and imbeciles. ❞ ❝ go back. turn away. there is nothing here for you. ❞ ❝ you would do well to omit ‘must’ from any speech directed at me. ❞ ❝ a bad dream. did i scream? i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ i will not be afraid. i will not let them see my fear. ❞ ❝ you will never know how sick it makes me to see you. you will never know how much i despise you. ❞ ❝ i have seen terrible things in my time. ❞ ❝ only a fool makes threats he’s not prepared to carry out. ❞ ❝ stay with me. i do not want to sleep alone. ❞ ❝ sometimes it is best to study a game before you attempt to play it. ❞ ❝ why, do what you always do. do nothing. ❞ ❝ no man ever truly knows what he can do unless he dares to leap. ❞ ❝ what you meant does not matter. only what you did. ❞ ❝ is there any more that you would care to tell me? ❞ ❝ i can’t command you to be brave, but i can command you to hide your fears. ❞ ❝ tell me something useful. tell me of our enemy. ❞ ❝ go away. you are not welcome here. ❞ ❝ these are such fearful times. some nights i can hardly sleep, for fear. ❞ ❝ some wounds do not show. ❞ ❝ i have never looked upon you as a rival, even for a moment. ❞ ❝ go home. you have a home, which is more than many can say in these dark days. ❞ ❝ play me for a fool, and you will die screaming. you are aware of that, i trust? ❞ ❝ you must be more dangerous than you look. ❞ ❝ tell me. i want to know all of it, from the beginning to the end. ❞ ❝ i see you are as lovely as the tales. ❞ ❝ your hands are shaking. they would rather be caressing me, i think. ❞ ❝ dry those tears. have you ever seen a lion weep? ❞ ❝ come! come kill me, if you can. ❞ ❝ i never knew what love could be, yet now...i am afraid. ❞ ❝ the enemy of my enemy is my friend. ❞ ❝ young men are overbold, and think only of the glory of battle and never of its dangers. ❞ ❝ you are weary and sick of heart, that’s plain to see. ❞ ❝ some doors are best left closed. ❞ ❝ the world is full of horrors. you can fight them, or laugh at them, or look without seeing. ❞ ❝ i was wondering. are you drunk, or merely stupid? ❞ ❝ does it hurt so much? is there aught i can do to ease your pain? ❞ ❝ what i want is none of your concern. ❞ ❝ this must end, for your sake as well as mine. ❞ ❝ glory is good, but gold is better. ❞ ❝ please tell me who you are, and why you’re following me. ❞ ❝ many a man will drown in those eyes. ❞ ❝ the best lies have some truth in them...to give them flavor, as it were. ❞ ❝ what are you looking for? your destiny? your death? ❞ ❝ love can make a fool of any man. ❞ ❝ may i stay a while? i feel that we should talk. ❞ ❝ is that a beard, or did you forget to wash the dirt off your face? ❞ ❝ i’ll hear the truth, or you’ll wear chains. ❞ ❝ if you love me, do not leave me. ❞ ❝ only madmen fight wars they cannot win. ❞ ❝ you have a strange look in your eyes. are you unwell? ❞ ❝ last night, i had a dreadful dream. ❞ ❝ you have to help me. where am i to go? what will i do? ❞ ❝ i warn you, i am out of patience. ❞

#roleplay meme #roleplay starters #rp meme #rp starters

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hawnks · 5 months

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Cat’s Cradle: 1

Gojo/reader, soulmate au

At twelve, he takes over as clan head. The strongest in a long line of demon slayers, Gojo is expected to save the declining family from an ever encroaching hoard of monsters, to reinstate the clan as a power of the region, and to bring honor to the name.

At thirteen he leaves on a two day journey to exterminate a demon nest at the edge of their territory. The elders think he’ll die, and that maybe he should if he can’t weather what needs to be done. They tell him as much, their tone austere, cold. He says, “I’ll be back soon.” Three katanas. His bare hands when all the blades have chipped and shattered. Fifty grotesque demons, bigger than him by half, each with a hundred dagger-sharp teeth. He comes home drenched in blood. It obscures his skin, his hair. All the markers of the clans fated son, vanished. Except for his eyes, still startling and bright. He turns them on one of the elders, then the dripping trail he’d left on the hardwood floors. He says, “We should hire a maid.”

At fifteen he brings prosperity to the clan. He inducts other demon slayers. Repopulates their dwindling numbers and empty halls with outsiders, non-relatives. But strong. Each one of them so strong and cruel and ruthless. He warns them what it will be like within the compound, his plans for them and the estate. There will be danger. Many of them will die. Some of them heed the warning and some don’t. Either way they fight for him with every modicum of their being. That’s the mark of a true Gojo— acceptance of death as a part of life.

At seventeen he meets his soulmate. A lady from a nearby clan, a family of merchants. His retainers put her in front of him, insisting that he needs to keep up a good rapport with other clans. Politics is a key part of his duties, according to them.

She greets him in the traditional manner. Bows and offers grace as he lounges in the seat of the golden zaisu.

“Rise, now,” he allows her.

“Yes, My Lord,” she returns.

The exchange isn’t a shock to him like it is to her. His words are common; he hears them everyday. A part of him doubts their connection, but it may as well be her.

She’s pretty. Non-offensive. Easily overlooked. She has the manners of any court lady, but enough cursed energy to knock a lesser man over upon encountering it. A perfect clan wife, a perfect lady, a perfect soulmate.

And best of all, she doesn’t interfere with his acuity. Never weighs on his mind, or clouds his judgment.

Gojo feels absolutely nothing for her.

#YAYYYY

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lady-ashfade · 1 year

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Can I request a fluffy Wednesday Addams x Reader one-shot? It can be angst with a fluffy ending or just complete fluff, and you can decide the scenario and reader's gender (I'd prefer it to be a gender-neutral reader, but you can pick whichever you want). :)

Yes you may my darling 💗🌸💕

Red lipstick.

Wednesday Addams x reader.

Plot: After missing your girlfriend you pulled her aside, and while doing so you left behind something that will soon cause you trouble.

Notes: The reader is called no gender pronouns or specifics, but the red does wear red lipstick. But everything can wear it. (please tell me if I messed up somewhere, I’m so used to writing for she/her pronouns)

This is really short.

Warnings: Kissing, a little dark themes but just because it’s Wednesday. Also probably spelling mistakes.

You loved your girlfriend, you would do anything she asked of you because in your eyes she was your own goddess. If she asked you, you would carve your heart and had it to her with a smile on your face, it belonged to her anyway. She was seen as morbid and sinister, a threat to anyone in her presence and to you…She was all of those things but you didn’t see it as a bad thing, but you loved it. Her dark ways and views on the world always made your head turn and think about what it’s like in her drain, she was fascinating.

But this week she hasn’t been able to be with you as much as you liked and you knew sometime she liked personal space but she was overworking herself. Maybe she liked the feeling of stress and her brain fogged with everything at once and the overwhelming feeling it put on her body. But it wasn’t healthy and you missed your girlfriend, so much.

Wednesday walked through the hallway with her thoughts keeping her focused on everything that has been happening. Which to your luck gave you a perfect opportunity to emerge from the dark class room and pull her in, closing the door behind you both. You gasped a bit when your body was shoved to the wall and her arm crushing your throat but you weren’t scared.

Her eyes realized you and her hard expression let up a bit but she still looked annoyed. “I could have kill you.” Her words spit like venom. You smiled as she let you breathe and speak. “By your hands it would be a honorable death.” You said the words to make her heart flatter, you saw her mouth curve up slightly and her eyes light up. “What’s this about?” She let her arm fall.

“Just wanted to see you and be alone.” Hands reached up to touch her cheek and she allowed the soft action. “You saw me this morning.” She stated. Maybe she was making fun of you for missing her that much but you know she didn’t mean anything by it. “That was too long ago,” you moved forward, “And I didn’t get to do this.”

Your lips met hers in a rushing manner and she immediately let out a breath and kissed you back. Her hands reached the back of you neck and rub the skin with her thumb while getting closer to you. She hated to admit but she has been missing you more and more, this case and whole monster business has kept her from you.

“My dark raven, how I love you so.” You chuckled and pulled back to kiss her cheek, which she wasn’t even realizing what you had done. “I’d die for you.” Her words were true and real but she would, it’s also her way of saying I love you back. “Hmm, I think we should get going. I’ll be at your dorm tonight.” You kissed her neck softly as a goodbye and ran off, she watched and her smile finally should.

But that was shortly lived when she walked to class that she shared with Enid and Xavier. Everyone in class stared at her which wasn’t unusual but this time it was something more, it was giving her a weird feeling and not the good kind. She sat down in between the two friends and they both just looked mortified. Xavier was smirking and amused and enid looked shocked but a little excited. “You seem to have had a good time.” The boy joked and Wednesday looked at him curiously.

“What are you on about now?” This only made him chuckle and face away from her. But enid was at her rescue, “Have a look.” She pulled out a small mirror and handed it to Wednesday and the girl took at look at herself. The pit in her stomach was turning and she almost felt embarrassed but over all she was annoyed and mad.

“I’m going to kill them.”

A red kiss mark was on her cheek, one on the neck and some smeared on her lips. She was mad at herself to for not coming to the conclusion herself because she knew y/n had red lipstick on but it slipped her mind.

Wednesday will get her revenge.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #Wednesday x reader #wednesday #enid sinclair #wednesday addams x gn reader

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blossom-hwa · 3 months

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Hi ^^ for the drabble event... maybe wonwoo + demigod au, if that's okay??

in honor of the recent PJO resurgence (I need to watch the show) please take this soft and cheesy demigod au of child of athena wonwoo + child of nyx mc as my humble offering <3 hope you enjoy!

summertime drabble fest: send me an idol from the list (Stray Kids, Ateez, TXT, Seventeen) + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

REQUESTS CLOSED!

Title: Stargazer

Pairing: Wonwoo x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1k

Genre: fluff, demigod!au

Warnings: n/a

"Careful, there."

Wonwoo grumbles as he pulls himself onto the roof, though really, he's counting on the darkness to hide his smile. "I wouldn't have to be careful if you didn't insist on nearly breaking our necks every time you wanted to meet."

Your laugh, though hushed, sends a warm tingle up Wonwoo's spine. "What, you don't trust me to save your neck before you die?"

"Tch." Wonwoo stops trying to hide his smile as he sits down next to you, bumping your shoulder with his. "Of course I trust you. I'd just rather not get to that point in the first place."

"Wouldn't we all?" you snicker. You turn to face him and not for the first time, Wonwoo wonders at your beauty in the darkness between the shadows cast by the moon and the stars, mystery cloaking your every movement. Up on the roof, under the night, you look so at home that for a moment Wonwoo finds himself uncertain whether or not he belongs here, disrupting your peace. Then you lay his head on your shoulder, all the while casting that moon-glow grin on him, and the uncertainty disappears.

"I think everyone likes to avoid death, or near-death experiences," Wonwoo replies. A breeze spins across the two of you, fluttering his hair, and he shivers a little.

You pull him closer. "Yeah, well, that's just not what happens for us," you say, and even though Wonwoo can't quite see your face right now he knows the smirking smile that must be on your lips, sardonic but sweet. "Should've brought a blanket," you continue in a mumble, only just loud enough for him to hear. "I can get one now if you want."

"It's fine," Wonwoo murmurs. The world is so quiet now that the noise of the earlier celebrations has gone. If he closed his eyes, and if he didn't feel so safe, he'd almost feel like he was back on the quest—him sleeping, you keeping watch, your careful fingers smoothing hair out of his eyes. "Don't go."

He hears your smile more than he sees it. "I won't," you promise. "Not going anywhere, now."

"Good." Wonwoo sighs, pulling his head off your shoulder to look at you. "Let's stay here for a bit longer."

Your eyes turn a little softer, a little sweeter as you nod. You know he doesn't just mean now, on the roof of your cabin, under the stars, overlooking Long Island Sound. You hear the words he didn't say. Stay with me. Stay safe with me. Stay where we won't face death almost every other day—stay where I can love you peacefully.

Child of wisdom, child of night. When the two of you appeared at camp within a week of each other, battered and bruised and more than a little traumatized, it was clear even without the prophecy that your fates would be intertwined. The connection was only cemented when Chiron declared the two of you were the subjects of the prophecy—child of wisdom, child of night—and would leave just a couple weeks later that would take the best part of several months.

Wonwoo thinks about himself then. Nearly an adult, newly christened son of Athena—a goddess he hadn't even known existed until then—uprooted from his books and studies to fight monsters instead. You had seemed like just another anomaly with whom to acquaint himself, a child of Nyx, more comfortable at night than during the day, words sharp and strange and more than a little cryptic, and in truth, he'd been scared of you. At least a bit. Until nights spent in awkward silence turned into nights spent in stilted conversation turned into nights spent noticing that for all the darkness cloaking your every movement—

You looked just as comfortable among the stars, too.

"What'cha looking at?" you murmur, tugging him close. Your eyes twinkle, the shadows that follow you wrapping around him too in a soft blanket. "Stargazer."

Wonwoo's cheeks feel warm even though his lips curve wide into a smile. You came up with the nickname after he once compared your eyes to stars in a moment of loose-lipped weakness, during the quest when you'd snuck him into a hospital babbling and exhausted and bleeding out of his side, and he'd woken up to you sleeping in a chair by his bed, his hand clasped tightly between both of yours.

"You said a lot of stuff while you were out."

"Gods. How embarrassing was I?"

"I'll leave most of it out." Your laugh, soft like moonlight. "But you did say my eyes look like stars."

His face flushing. Your eyes twinkling.

"So I said that you must've looked at my eyes a lot to come to that conclusion, and you agreed, Stargazer."

Wonwoo leans in, presses a soft kiss to your lips. "The stars," he replies when he pulls away, smiling so hard it almost hurts.

You raise an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, the stars were up there, in the sky." You wave a hand in front of your face. "Not right here."

Wonwoo likes reading. Likes stories, likes philosophy, likes pretty much anything that isn't a stupid physics textbook that he can't make heads or tails of. And while he doesn't read a lot of romance novels, he likes them well enough that sometimes he can't help but wish the two of you were in one—fated lovers guaranteed a happily ever after.

Nothing is guaranteed here, though. Not his life, not yours, not that of those around him either. There may never be a perfect romance between the two of you, demigods that you are, forced to be on the watch every single waking moment. But despite that, right now, Wonwoo thinks this is about as perfect as it gets—the night sky, the stars, and you.

"That's usually true," he replies, smiling. You smile back, and when you do, it seems that the night smiles, too. "Just not if I'm looking at the ones in your eyes."

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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