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#and i was just like 'excuse you it is one of the great solemnities of the church'
fictionadventurer · 1 year
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Imagine reading The Lord of the Rings through a secular lens. So instead of the day the One Ring was destroyed being also the date of the Annunciation, the Crucifixion, and the first day of creation, it's just Amazon's Tolkien Day.
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natewriteslol · 10 months
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Scarabia getting Jealous
Warnings: gender neutral reader
Kalim:
-It’s incredibly difficult to get Kalim jealous, I mean he’s not stupid but he is quite oblivious to a majority of things.
-So when you’re partying in Scarabia, seperating to get a drink whilst everyone is dancing something caught his ruby eyes. A man had come and caressed your shoulder, his posture and face looking sleezy.
-Maybe it was just a friend! But you didn’t look like you knew him...
-So that caused him to just go up and take you away from the entire situation since you looked uncomfortable. But the man did not want to leave you alone and was persistent
- “What do you think we’re doing we were having a conversation, you brat?”
- “Do you, know who I am? You must be confused but I am dorm leader, Kalim Al-Asim, apart of the Al-Asim family and host of this party. If you could just please step back from my wonderful partner that would be great!” Kalim explained, but his tone didn’t sound like he was sharing a fun fact
-It sounded like a threat.
- “C’mon Y/N I’ve gotta show you something!” Kalim giggled, steering you outside, toward one of the balconies of the Scarabia dorm and as soon as you stepped on Kalim let out a whistle, taking you away from the sandy terrain on a magic carpet.
- “I’m sorry for being so abrupt I just...I got a little mad watching that guy be all touchy with you” the white-haired boy said looking off into the distance.
-You giggled at his slight pout before questioning, “Kalim, are you jealous?”
- He sighed before he looked at you, “...A little- don’t be mad at me!” he begged, waving his hands.
-You laughed at him, picking him up by his shoulders, “Kalim there’s nothing for me to be mad about, and nothing for you to worry about,” before planting a soft kiss on his nose.
-One thing about you is that you always knew how to make people feel better :)
Jamil:
-He’s always been used to having things taken away from him, so Jamil was definitely afraid of losing you to something or someone.
-You both may have not been exactly dating just yet, but you were far too close to just be labeled as friends. Jamil attempted to neglect his feelings, yet he couldn’t help but get hot blooded over the display in front of him.
Some beastman from Savanaclaw stood, blocking your way from walking as he talked about the patches littered across his letterman jacket. Jamil knew he was a star athlete for basketball in Night Raven, but he couldn’t stand the look on his face.
-He knew you were looking for a way out, so when he wizzed pass, turning around to get another view of the situation for a split moment and you saw his long hair you bolted, yelling his name
- “Like I said before, I’m running late now move” you said to the guy as you sped up, ““Jamil, wait up!”
- As you caught your breath he looked at you with a solemn expression, “So who was that? Do you know him?”
- “Not really, he just stopped me when I was on my way out, why do you ask?” He couldn’t get mad at you, besides he couldn’t say anything exactly, so what could he say?
- “Don’t hang around him, he’s bad news and has terrible hygiene, Y/N,” he said, trying to make an excuse so that you won’t spend time with him. But with the light blush that decorated his cheeks and a slight fidget which made him touch your hand, you could tell something was up.
- “Jamil…are you jealous-?”
- “Absolutely not, don’t bring those accusations to my character, Y/N” he said, upset and waving his hand around but you still laughed at Jamil’s actions. But he knew something for sure, he had to make you his soon. 
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jaylver · 5 months
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BACK TO DECEMBER — P.JS
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synopsis: finding closure by meeting your ex somehow only brought you back to the night in december where you broke his heart. it was then you realised how much you wished to go back and fix everything, but you can’t. 
pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader
genre: angst, exes (to friends?), pining, slight rekindling
warning(s): none
wc: 1.3k
a/n: happy december! it's going to be a depressive december where i write angsty christmas related stuff AHAHA. hope you'd enjoy this one! apologies in advance for any mistakes since i wrote this in one shot lawl. as always, please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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December. 
The blinding white snow and festive season all around that should’ve given you comfort only haunted you. The cold air didn’t compare to the feeling of how your heart felt as you stood outside the cafe. A scarf wrapped around your neck wasn’t enough to stop you from shaking a little, not knowing if it was the nerves or the cold.
The sound of the bell clinking signalled your appearance in the cafe. Warmth spread through you at once, the cheery atmosphere inside was the contrary to the chilliness outside, and it somehow made you feel a little more relieved. However, not completely relieved when you stepped closer to the table where he sat., eventually standing in front of him, watching him slowly looking up from his phone.
“Jong Seong,”
Your past lover stared back at you, the look on his face was indescribable. He seemed as if he had seen a ghost, most likely the ghost of his past. He was still the same, almost unchanging excluding the slight difference in hairstyle. It was the same as seeing him on your last night together. 
“Y/N, hey,” he visibly swallowed, the grip on his phone also tightening. 
You sat on the chair opposite him, noticing a cup of coffee already ordered and placed in front of you. Jay might’ve realised the look of confusion on your face, offering an explanation. “I ordered a latte for you. It’s your go-to order anyway,”
“Oh,” You paused. He remembered your order. After those times, he still kept them in mind. How could he? “Thank you, I’ll pay you—”
“It’s on me, don’t worry,” The same words he would say every time he bought you coffee, the exact actions where he waved his hands and shook his head. They were all identical.
“Alright. Thank you, again,” you managed a small smile, suddenly wishing you hadn’t asked him to meet you in the first place. “I’m so glad you made time to see me,”
“It’s no problem. I’m back to visit my family anyway, I’ll be free,” the fact that he had moved away and gotten another job in a different city right after your break up would always pinch your heart. He had never said anything about leaving, so why did he? Was it because of you?
You nodded briefly, excusing the nightmarish thoughts from your mind. “So, how’s life? Tell me,”
“I’ve been good, busier than ever,”
“Finally settled in?”
“Quite. Not all there yet,” he winced a little, shrugging his shoulders. “You?”
“Not much. Everything’s almost like before,”
‘Before’ was enough for Jay to get the hint. Just the word alone was able to speak more than it should have, causing a sense of solemn settling in the cold evening air. 
You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “How’s your family? I haven't seen them in a while,”
“They’re great! Mum and dad are both healthy, they’re the same as ever,”
There it was. The same hint of the past.
The conversation soon rolled into a certain dullness, awkwardness present and apparent. Small talks about work and the weather, you could tell his guard was up, and you knew why. It was because the last time he saw you was still burned in the back of your mind, the time when everything came crashing down.
Once the coffee was drained from your cup, you knew it was most likely time to part ways. You’ve said what you said, you saw his face, unknowingly getting closure in the process. But was it longing that pulled at your heartstrings when you locked eyes with him? His saccharine eyes brought back memories and comfort, the feeling close to home. 
The snow was falling outside when you and him exited the cafe. It was time to part ways, once again. You had your hand wrapped around yourself, and Jay had his hands tucked in the pockets of his coat. The sight of it reminded you of the countless winters you’ve had together, standing at the exact spot, by the entrance of the cafe where you shared your favourite hot coffees at. 
“I’m sorry,”
Confusion turned into hurt, Jay came to term about the meaning behind your sudden burst of an apology. It seemed that he hadn’t let go of it either. There you were, swallowing your pride, facing the man you loved.
“I’m sorry for that night,” the night where you left his roses to wilt and eventually did the same to him as well. 
It was a mistake to have treated him like that, but how could you blame yourself? You were selfish, you had to be, you had to do all it takes to achieve your dreams and breaking the heart of the man you loved was what it took. 
You hated December. If you had the chance, you would go back to the time somewhere in December a few years back to rewrite your mistakes, because it turns out freedom was nothing but missing him. Stupid you were, wishing you’d realised what you had when he was yours. 
Jay heaved a sigh, the air condensing into a mist. “Thank you. I’m sorry too.”
That’s when you knew if you could, you’d go back to December all the time, turn it around and make it alright.
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You were haunted, plagued by him. 
Agreeing to an early Christmas party invite shouldn’t have been a regret until you saw his face appearing there, realising that you two shared mutual friends too. In the end, you’d always be connected some way or another, it was inevitable considering having history together.
You wished you were lying when you said you haven’t been sleeping well ever since seeing him that day in the cafe. Staying up and playing back the moment of yourself leaving, the piercing feeling of regret keeping you awake. 
You recalled the start of the year when his birthday rolled around and you cursed yourself for remembering, just like how you remembered everything else about him. His birthday passed, and you didn’t call. For the first time, you weren’t the first to wish him ‘happy birthday’.
It was then you thought about summer, all the beautiful times. You could picture everything perfectly, every second spent together and the littlest details of them all. One that stuck out most was you watching him laughing from the passenger side, the same time where you realised you had fallen in love completely and undeniably. 
That was until the cold came and the dark days when fear crept into your mind. He had given you all his love, but all you did was give him a ‘goodbye’.
Now, as you stared at him from afar, not missing the sparks shining in his irises and the curves of his lips, you finally grasped the unceremonious fact that you missed him, utterly and shamefully so. 
You missed his tan skin, his sweet smile, the way he has always been so good and so right to you. It all brought you back to that September night, when he held you in his arms, letting you cry into his shirt. It was the first time he ever saw you cry, and you allowed yourself to be fully transparent with him.
It was wishful thinking, probably mindless dreaming, having him in your thoughts and missing him, but you let yourself feel after a long time. You’d go back in time to change it, yet, alas you couldn’t.
You swore, if you and him loved again, you’d love him right. But now, if the key to his heart had changed, you’d understand.
His gaze travelled over to you, unintentionally locking with your eyes. Longing and sadness clung onto the connection between the both of you, but all you could do was nothing. 
Take me back to December.
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( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
☆ permanent taglist (open):
@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun @ilovegyuvin
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babydollmarauders · 6 months
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MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 15)
au masterlist
notes: pretty short but i just wanted to get this out so that i can move on and be ready for the next game tomorrow!
y/ndevils00
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liked by dawson1417, nicohischier, and 286,402 others
y/ndevils00 a solemn hello to you all! welcome back to my postgame recap!
as some of you may have noticed, i took a bit of a break and did not cover the game against the Blues, hawks, or avalanche! as you’re all probably well aware, my beautiful, clumsy ass boyfriend lost an edge during the first of the Blues game which resulted in a shoulder injury. after some serious persuasion from both me and coach woof, who i’m pretty sure just wanted me off the trip in general… how rude, the Devils management graciously allowed me to return back to Jersey with my dumbass (affectionate) to be his in-home nurse!
i did keep up with my real job through watching the games on tv— did you guys know that Nico and Jack scream at the tv a lot during games? no? well now you do! — but i took a minor break from your regularly scheduled recaps in order to focus on my ailing boyfie.
so for the next few weeks, i will be doing any road game recaps from the comfort of my own (Jack and Luke’s) home! with one exception for a game of which i will not be disclosing at this point in time!
tonight your not so mighty Devils lost 2-4 to the D.C. dwellers— so that wasn’t fun to witness!
i spent most of my time this game in the press box with my aforementioned dumbass, my slut, and my new uncle Miller that we acquired during this past summer solstice. (see: slide 4)
this game, we got a goal from Meier Meier pants on fire, and of course, my very own bestie number 1, DAWSON MERCER!!! which makes his 2nd of the season after he got his very first of the season in my missed recap game against the hawks!
i’m so so SO proud of you tonight puppy!! you did so well!! you’re gonna do great things, sweetie!!
dear idiot number 2, you played well tonight and i guess i’m proud of you…. ya know, despite the penalty and the massive L we took… continue shining, supernova!
tagged john.marino97, dougieham, jackhughes, nicohischier, colinmiller1029, lhughes_06, tmeier96
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john.marino97 2 photos… everyone else got 1 penalty photo and you choose TWO of me?
y/ndevils00 excuse me, do i need to take back my last paragraph? because i will if you’re gonna be an ungrateful rat
john.marino97 no, i’m sorry, thank you and i love you
y/ndevils00 that’s what i thought
user28 WE NEED JACK AND NICO BACK 😭
jackhughes can i request another nurse? maybe one that doesn’t call me a dumbass?
y/ndevils00 no <3
y/ndevils00 i call you MY dumbass, and you know it’s all love, my dumbass!
jackhughes so i’m stuck with you, huh?
y/ndevils00 forever and ever and ever and ever 🥰
jackhughes oh fun!
y/ndevils00 i know!
john.marino97 @/y/ndevils00 he was being sarcastic
y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 oh, thank you personal sarcasm detector
y/ndevils00 YOU LOVE ME, STOP ACTING TOUGH ON THE INTERNET
colinmiller1029 i know i’m still new to this but, uncle?
dawson1417 any guy over 30 is her uncle, it’s the rules. you can’t question it and you can’t deny it, you just roll with it!
colinmiller1029 @/dawson1417 oh, okay. got it.
colinmiller1029 proud to be an uncle!! you’re pretty fun press box company, niece!
y/ndevils00 oh i love you
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula STEP UP YOUR UNCLE GAME OR HE’S GONNA BE FAVORITE
ehaula keep threatening it, i’m secure in my position and i know you love me
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula i hate you
ehaula sure. so i’ll see you tomorrow for family dinner, right?
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula yeah 🫤 can we watch Monsters Inc after dinner?
ehaula if you’re good and you eat all your food!
y/ndevils00 @/ehaula YES! 💃
jackhughes my girlfriend is a child
user10 how fast did you have to run from the press box to get these pictures?
y/ndevils00 oh so fast
dawson1417 THANK YOU BESTIE NUMBER 3!!! AND THANK YOU FOR MY HEAD PATS
y/ndevils00 you earned those head pats! i hope you enjoyed them!!
dawson1417 i did!!!
john.marino97 @/jackhughes your girlfriend is a child and my best friend is an actual golden retriever
jackhughes @/john.marino97 this is the life we chose
nicohischier stop eating my press box popcorn
y/ndevils00 but i was hungry :(
nicohischier your boyfriend was there? make him get you some!
y/ndevils00 he did! i ate it all!
nicohischier so you decide to eat mine?
y/ndevils00 yeah, now you get it!
nicohischier you are so…
y/ndevils00 beautiful? fun? hilarious?
nicohischier annoying
y/ndevils00 oh :(
nicohischier but i love you?
y/ndevils00 I LOVE YOU TOO WHORE!
tmeier96 no goal picture but a penalty picture?
y/ndevils00 i only have so many spaces, Timothy
tmeier96 ah yes, and the penalty was more important
y/ndevils00 well, yeah. you guys lost, it’s not like that goal mattered much
tmeier96 it goes towards my stats?
y/ndevils00 okay? and your penalty goes towards your PIMs
lhughes_06 you’re not winning this one dude, just save yourself the trouble and give up now
y/ndevils00 @/lhughes_06 see, Lukey gets it!
user63 wait, why won’t she tell us what road game she’s going to?
user95 WHAT ROAD GAME?! PLEASE, I WANNA MEET YOU
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seonghwaddict · 10 months
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i loved you — park seonghwa
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in which there's nothing like dancing at a ball with your greatest enemy... and the man who broke your heart.
rival king!park seonghwa x fem!queen!reader. genre. hurt no comfort, lovers to enemies... to lovers? warnings. death, like a lot of it, major character death, lots of hurt, no comfort, poisoning, weapons, mild gore. wc. 2.1k
lilo's notes. i do not take any responsibility for any mental damages i may have caused (/j). anyways, i'm not really sure why i wrote this but here it is. i was probably influenced by all the shakespeare i've read recently but who knows? i certainly don't :P. thank you to @nebulousbrainsoup for beta reading, love ya babes!! and a small dedication to @a1sh1teruu and @yoonrimin for helping me make up my mind on posting it. love you all!! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
listening to. once upon a december, emile pandolfi.
masterlist
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You descended the grand staircase, one of your arms linked with the captain of your army. In the warm candlelight of the ballroom, your light blue—nearly white—ball gown seemed to glow. The guests rocked and swayed on the dance floor as others watched from the sidelines, giddy with the euphoric side effects of their drinks. Citizens of both Utopia and Aurora weaved through each other in graceful twirls and dips. It’s been a long time since Aurora saw peace rather than the bloodshed of men and women alike who were willing to die for their kingdom.
Once you reached the floor, you were offered a dance by a nobleman. After nodding a farewell to General Choi San, you joined the young man as you conversed very awkwardly over a slow waltz. Once you finally got away from him, an older duke from someplace you didn’t recognise, a small estate north of Utopia, was at your side in an instant. Stifling a great sigh, you agreed to a single waltz.
As the man spun you around, you caught a glimpse of a familiar black suit. With a polite smile, you excused yourself and curtseyed to the older man. As you glided to the dais set in marble on the other side of the room, your locked eyes with San for a brief moment. Your posture relaxed as you watched your subjects sway to the melody of violins and cellos. A soft smile painted itself onto your elegant features as you felt another presence next to you. It wasn't hard to guess who it was; the distinct vanilla and citrus scent combined with the long shadow of the tall figure cast onto the floor was enough of a tell.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Seonghwa began, hoping you wouldn’t turn to look at him just yet. “About everything.”
“Of course you’re sorry,” you let out a bitter chuckle as if the losses of the people that matter most to you could be remedied by any of the contents found in a first aid kit.
He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. You stood beside him like a tree swaying lightly in the breeze of the music. You did not look at him, even as you felt his dark eyes burning into the side of your face. Your face continued to gaze ahead with a solemn expression—the grin that once graced your features was now reduced to oblivion. The young king sucked in a breath and turned back around, watching a servant weave his way through the crowd, offering drinks and biscuits. When the servant passed them, Seonghwa beckoned him over with the raise of his hand. The blond approached them, his posture slightly straighter than it was a minute before. you recognised the man, he had been supporting wounded soldiers as they marched their way out of the forest that served as a natural border between Utopia and Aurora when the war had concluded.
“May I be of assistance, Your Majesty?” he asked, bowing his head subtly.
Seonghwa cleared his throat. “A drink would be nice.”
Without hesitation, the servant handed him a clear drink, contained in a long, clear glass. The king of Utopia nodded a thank you and the servant turned away. He was interrupted by the soft voice of his queen.
“Thank you, Yunho,” you said.
Yunho beamed at you before walking off to serve an older man near the dance floor. As the two monarchs stood in silence for another while longer, the male of you two glanced around nervously. He felt eyes on him. You glanced at him once before averting your eyes back to the crowd enjoying themselves on the dance floor. With a start, you turned to the man next to you after feeling him tap your shoulder. He offered you the glass he received from the servant—Yunho, as you had called him. You eyed the drink, then you eyed him. When you finally took it off his hands, he let out a small breath, the smirk that you fell in love with stretching over his lips. Raising the glass to your lips, you took a sip, enjoying the sweet taste that swirled through your mouth.
“I know it won’t fix anything, but may I ask you to join me on the dance floor?” he asked once you finished the drink. He gulped when you looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close you were. “To show everyone that we have gotten past our differences?”
For a moment, you contemplated his offer, an uneasy feeling washing over you. You would have to go through with the plan either way; a single dance won’t change your mind. He offered you a hand, his smirk turning into a genuine grin once you accepted it. The brunette led you to the middle of the room. You suppressed a flinch as one of his hands found its way to your waist, but still, you rested your hand on his shoulder as your free hands held each other. You swayed to the melody played by the violins. He spun you around occasionally. He liked the way your hand fit in his, slightly smaller and warmer, but they fit together like the gears of a clock. The song was coming to an end, the crescendos and diminuendos of the climax of the piece had long passed. The laughter stopped abruptly and was replaced by confused whispers as the lights suddenly went off, leaving everyone in the dark. You let go of Seonghwa, taking a step back to remove you from him completely.
A piercing scream ripped through the air.
Followed by another one coming from the opposite side of the room. Multiple other screams rang out, accompanied by the quick footsteps of anxious guests trying to get out of the room. Slowly, the lights turned back on. You stood from the ground, where you had been inspecting the lifeless body of a man that lay by your feet, blood flowing from his stomach and mouth and pouring onto the marble floor. Seonghwa looked around in horror—half of his Utopian guard was nowhere to be seen while the ones that were there had been pierced by the sabres of Aurora’s soldiers; a dozen guests lay scattered around the room, dead or breathing in dangerously shallow breaths; crimson streaks decorated the floor like an abstract painting made by a four-year-old; your blood-stained hands, trembling ever so slightly. He expected a look of shock on your face, but that’s not what he saw at all. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes lit up with rage, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear or shock on your face as you stared him down. But he saw past it. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely and desperate. Your shoulders heaved with each breath you took.
“So, this is it?” He arched an eyebrow, watching your every move.
You didn’t respond, instead, your hand pushed a piece of fabric from your skirt to the side and pulled out a dagger, frustrated tears beginning to spill down your face. You took a slow step forward. “You killed my lover, what did you expect me to do?”
“Oh, don’t be foolish, dear,” he chuckled, “This won’t fix anything and you know that. You’ll try to attack me, you’ll fail and I’ll leave, unmarked, and be ready to attack by sunrise for going against our treaty. Wasn’t it obvious enough that Utopia has always had a better military than Aurora?”
You stopped right in front of him, close enough to feel his warm breath brushing against your face. “Yeah? And where is that big bad military right now?” you whispered, eyes flickering around his face, surveying his reaction. “I have nothing to lose, anyway. I’ve already lost it all,” You sneered through gritted teeth. “All… because… of you.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. He made a clicking noise with his tongue, looking up with a hint of a smirk. “I’m surprised the poison hasn’t affected you yet. Perhaps I didn’t use enough.”
Your confidence visibly faltered and you stepped back. “What?”
“Oh, that’s right, you didn’t notice. The drink I gave you, did it look like water? Hate to break it to you, but I paid that servant boy—Yunho, was it?—to replace all the water with thallium. Of course, thallium takes a while to act on the human body, but when consumed in large amounts, it is very lethal and quite quick to act. Your guests should be dropping dead right outside those doors… right… about… now.” At his last words, screams were heard from outside the grand doors of the ballroom, he seemed satisfied with your horrified reaction to this before adding in an amused whisper, “I’m sure your dear boyfriend could tell you all about it.”
With a cry, you lifted your dagger, hyper-aware of the discomfort in your stomach after what you were just told. He dodged your attack while pulling his own dagger out of the inside of his suit and holding it out in front of him. You, on the other hand, could already feel yourself growing weaker with every breath you took, your chest burning as if it were on fire. You stood opposite each other, arms outstretched with daggers clutched tightly in them; each of you pointing them at each other’s throats. He was calm, chin held high with pride and an expressionless face. You had tears brimming your eyes, pushing their limits, face flushed and lips pulled between your teeth for a few seconds.
“I loved you, Seonghwa,” You let out a noise somewhere between laugh and sob. “But all you cared about is power. You wouldn’t know the feeling of being prepared to do anything for that special person, would never experience that– that pure euphoria when you’re in the same room as them. And I could not settle for someone unable to love me back the same way.”
He didn’t say anything so you stepped closer, lowering your dagger. His gaze followed you as you came closer to him, nudging his dagger out of your way and letting his hand fall to his side. You stopped in front of him once more, your big, wet eyes locked with his. You liked his eyes, when you were younger you could’ve sworn you saw whole galaxies in them. A clang rang through the soundless hall as Seonghwa let the dagger go. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb stroking it gently.
“You don’t understand,” he mumbled, “I had to prove I was a capable leader. My people saw me as a coward for years, I just wanted it to change. But all those years ago, when we hid away under that big oak tree, I was in love with you. I still am in love with you, Y/N.”
Your sobs had once scarred your lips, but that night—before the moon could even join the dark clouds soaring above—you felt the man's kisses that echoed like the final pleas of a collapsing star. For a moment you thought it was ironic, his kisses resembled the electricity of a supernova while his name meant to become a star… though, that’s not the only reason it was ironic. You hesitated for a moment before giving in, but you couldn’t call it off now. Seonghwa let out a gasp and stepped back to look at the blade that had been plunged into his chest, blood already pooling around the knife and soaking through his perfectly tailored clothes. He coughed, blood spurting through his lips before spilling out in a steady stream. You closed your eyes, silent tears dripping down to your chin as you clutched your stomach and fell to the ground. Your breaths became shallow as you lay there, utterly helpless as the effects of poison overcame you.
You felt another body fall to the ground next to you, but like almost two hours before, it didn’t take any guessing to figure out who it was. Your eyelids grew heavy as did your breaths; you couldn’t hold on any longer. Your chest gave a scream of desperation as it struggled for air. But it was too late, your body went limp and cold, and the only thing that stayed warm was the hand that was held firmly by the man you once loved. Soon enough, it too went limp.
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network. @cromernet
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mingtinys · 11 months
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Silent Cry
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pairing : jung wooyoung x gn!reader
angst , hurt / comfort , a lil fluff if u squint
warnings : language , themes of depression and isolation , nudity (not explicit or detailed) , just heavy content in general
word count : 3.5 k
requested ? no
a/n : this one has been sitting in the drafts for quite some time as i just never felt good enough about posting it as it's a little different from what i usually write about . but i did promise a wooyoung fic , so here it is !! (and yes , this fic was slightly inspired by the skz song)
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It's not often you find yourself angry beyond reason, in fact, you'd like to think yourself a rather patient individual. But at the end of the day, a rather shitty one at that, there's only so much you can excuse or find reason with. Only so much silence and disrespect you can take before something inside you snaps and pushes down the logical side of your brain that's desperately trying to convince you "there's gotta be a good reason, Wooyoung would never purposely ignore you." Bullshit.
If he didn't want to go out tonight? Fine. That's not your issue. But standing you up without, at the very least, a courtesy call? You've wracked your brain all day, and there's just not much you can think of to justify the utter embarrassment and betrayal he put you through tonight. So you let your rage carry you the entire thirty-minute walk from your usual restaurant to the dorms and wait to be let in.
Not that there was much to begin with, your expectations having been severely degraded for the night, but the last twinge of hope you'd allowed to fester dies when your aggressive knocks on the KQ dorms summon San in leu of Wooyoung. He looks startled, but moreover just exhausted. "Y/N," He breathes out a greeting, quickly waving you inside. You don't quite pick up on it at first, but he sounds almost relieved to see you.
"Is he here?" You ask immediately, stepping into the empty area of the living room, between the TV stand and L–shaped couch. Yunho and Yeosang are there too, they peer at you through solemn eyes and let out their own sighs, matching San.
Yeosang rubs at his face, pulling the skin as he drags his palms down until they slip from his jaw and land in his lap. "Wooyoung? He's in his room."
You scoff, "That asshole–"
It's Yunho who moves first, standing and catching your arm before you can storm off to confront the object of your frustration.  "Woah, wait, what's going on?" It takes everything in you not to yank your arm from his gasp. You're mad at Wooyoung, not Yunho, you remind yourself.
"He's been ignoring me for the past three days and now he's missed our date night." You explain with a huff. Yunho drops your arm and looks between San and Yesoang. Their glances are far too knowing and not enough explaining, it irks you even further.
"What? Am I missing something here?"
Your impatience prompts another glance between the three boys before San finally elects himself to speak. "He won't really talk to us either," San frowns. "He's been acting kind of . . . weird."
"We got snapped at when we tried to offer grabbing dinner together earlier." Though Yeosang sounds just about as annoyed as you, there's something more behind his eyes that sends a pang through your heart. Worry? Helplessness? Guilt, perhaps? You try not to read too much into it.
"Well, he doesn't get to be an asshole about it."
"I agree," The group nods at your statement. "But listen, don't be too hard on him, alright? I don't think he's feeling too great." Yunho chooses his words with surgical-like precision. The phrase "I don't think he's feeling too great" sticks in your mind and leaves a bitter taste on the tip of your tongue.
"Noted." With that, you turn on your heels and start down the hall to Wooyoung's room, no one intervenes or follows this time.
You rasp three times on the wooden door with your knuckles, and thrice more when your first attempt yields no response. It's just silence, and after an internal debate between impatience and hesitancy, you reach for the knob and twist.
The door only opens but a few inches when a loud huff resonates through the pitch-black room. "I told you guys to leave me alone," Wooyoung croaks, his voice raspy and raw.
You ignore his request and allow yourself in anyways, shutting the door behind you and enveloping the room in near darkness. The poor lighting situation unfortunately doesn't do much in terms of masking the clutter you're faced with upon second glance. Various piles of clothes are haphazardly strewn about, making the room feel more like a maze than a habitable environment. Open and unfinished food containers cast a rather unpleasant aroma that clings to your olfactory senses and causes your nose to scrunch up involuntarily.
Wooyoung himself lays in bed, wrapped in a thick cocoon of blankets with his back turned to the door. A faint glow highlights the portions of his face visible to you and you can just barely pick up on a popular TikTok audio playing on a loop over the hum of the A/C unit.
You stop a few feet from him. "Oh, so your phone is working. Good to know."
Wooyoung's head whips around with lightning speed, eyes blown wide with surprise. "Y/N? Why are you here?"
You roll your eyes at his incredulous expression. "Do you have any idea what day it is?"
He thinks for a moment, hazy eyes scanning the room, and then you. He blinks once, twice, a third time. "Thursday?"
"It's Saturday, Wooyoung."
"Oh."
He visibly deflates, sinking further into the safety of his blanket and flipping back to his side, leaving you to spill your grievances to the back of his head. "Is that all you have to say? I waited alone for you to show up for nearly two hours, and all you have to say is 'oh.'?"
"I'm sorry." He doesn't sound it. "I'm not really sure what else you want me to say."
Your fists ball up at your sides with how apathetic he is. It's just so unlike him, giving you the cold shoulder as opposed to greeting you with eager kisses and excited giggles. A knot ties itself tightly in your gut and twists uncomfortably. You uncurl your fingers and wriggle them, trying to release the built-up tension. Forcing a calmness into your voice that honestly, you aren't sure how you manage, you speak.
"Woo, why are you being like this?" You cross your arms over your chest, preparing to protect yourself from another very likely short response from your boyfriend. "You could have at least told me you weren't coming, or texted to let me know you were okay. . ."
He huffs again. "Fine. I'm sorry I flaked. I'm an asshole, I get it. Now please leave, I'm not in the mood."
It should make you even angrier. His complete disregard for how he's talking to you, the careless attitude he uses to cover up whatever he's actually feeling. But you've known Wooyoung for too long, and something must be seriously wrong for him to behave how he is. The knot in your stomach coils even tighter and stretches into your chest, constricting your airways. You're starting to understand why Yeosang looked so worried.
You manage to suck down a deep breath that allows your prior frustration to dissipate just enough so you can keep a cool head, even if he can't. You choose your next words carefully, dropping your voice down to a patient whisper.
"I don't wanna leave without knowing you're okay, but if you say you are . . . then I'll believe you, I won't pry any further."
The room descends into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the increasingly rapid and jagged breathing of the boy in front of you. Something halfway between a choked sob and hiccup bubbles up from the confines of his throat. The uncharacteristic sound is worse than anything you've heard pass through his lips before. It nearly splits your heart right down the middle.
"Baby," you coax. "Tell me what you need and I'll do what I can." You take a seat on the edge of his bed, and rest your palm where his shoulder is just beneath the blanket, lightly squeezing to try and initiate some form of comfort.
Wooyoung crumbles all too quickly for what your heart can handle. He shrinks even further as he curls into a loose ball. One hand shoots out from under his fortress to grip yours that rests on his shoulder. He cradles your hand against his chest, holding on the way a frightened child would. Cry after cry tumbles from his lips in a wretched sound, something akin to that of shattering glass on cold tile.
"I don't know," he gasps out. "I don't fucking know!"
"Okay, okay," you coo, using your free hand to repeatedly comb through strands of his messy, unwashed hair. "It's okay." You aren't sure what to say, and you're terrified you'll say the wrong thing, so you opt for nothing at all. You simply let Wooyoung cry, trusting that eventually, he'll let you know what he needs, even if it's just the rest of the night alone.
You aren't sure how long the two of you sit in silence or when Wooyoung's sobs finally begin to taper out to sniffles. Though what he says next sends your heart plummeting to your stomach and snags the air from your lungs.
"I just wanna be good enough." He confesses.
Your fingers freeze in his hair as you try to process some type of response, but the best you can get out is "What do you mean?"
"I just. . . I just feel— like shit. Like a shit friend, a shit boyfriend, a shit idol, a shit person. I feel disgusting."
Realistically, you know there's nothing in the world you can say in this moment to relieve the anguish he feels. You can let praise after praise for him fall from your lips, but they'd never reach his ears. Not when he's already convinced himself he isn't worthy of them. But that doesn't stop you from wanting to at least try. Even if it only relieves a fraction of what he feels. And you think maybe if you can't heal his mind, you can at least make sure he's physically okay.
You give his hand that's still clutching yours to his chest a squeeze. "Why don't we make something to eat, hm? You must be hungry?" But he shakes his head.
"Some tea then? Water?" He shakes his head again.
"Baby, you gotta do something to take care of yourself."
Wooyoung lets out a shaky sigh, "I don't want them to see me, not like this." You piece together he must be talking about his members. Which means no venturing out to the kitchen for food or drinks.
"Okay, maybe a bath then?"
He thinks for a moment, but surprises you when he, albeit reluctantly, agrees. Maybe he's caught on that you won't be giving up until he does at least something. Maybe he's just trying to appease you so you'll stop pestering him. Or maybe he just genuinely wants to. Whatever the reason, you're happy for it.
You slip your hand from his grasp and whisper that you'll get the water started and for him to take all the time he needs. When the tub fills and bubbles form from the bath solution you poured in, you come back to find him unraveled from his nest of blankets and sitting on the edge of his bed. You smooth his hair back and he looks up at you with sad eyes.
"It's ready whenever you are. I'll give you some time to get undressed and settle in, okay?"
The way he nods is robotic and the glassy and distant reflection in his eyes drives daggers through your heart. You wonder if he even heard you, but then he meekly rises to his feet, rubbing at stiff joints on the way up. He disappears to the bathroom moments before two knocks resonate from the wooden door.
You open it by just a crack, fully preparing to shoo off whoever it is as per Wooyoung's wishes. But when you're met face to face with a disheveled red-eyed Yeosang, you don't have the heart to tell him to go away. So you take a quick peek to make sure Wooyoung is shut away in the bathroom before opening his door the rest of the way.
Yeosang peaks around the dim room. "Is Wooyoung okay?" He whispers.
You offer up as good of a smile as you can despite the circumstances. You're not sure you've ever seen Yeosang so concerned. "He will be," you assure. The blond boy in front of you nods and mumbles out his own affirmations of Wooyoung's well-being.
"Uh, I know he probably doesn't want the extra attention right now, but could you give him this for me?" Yeosang extends a water bottle and two bags of snacks for you to take. "Oh– and San asked me to give this as well." He untucks what looks like a stuffed dog from under his arm and hands it to you as well with the utmost care. "Shiber is his favorite, but San said he thinks Wooyoung needs him more tonight."
"I'll let him know," you speak softly and Yeosang nods, but doesn't leave. He just stands there, nervously looking around and shifting from side to side. "Are you okay?" You ask.
"He scares me when he's like this."
"It's happened before?"
Yeosang nods. "Not a lot, but sometimes he just gets too caught up in his own head and shuts everyone out. I know he'll be fine, he always is . . . But he's my best friend, you know? It hurts."
You nod, understanding exactly what he means. It's hard, watching someone you love struggle and not knowing how to help them. "Yeah, I know. If it's any solace, he did get out of bed." You check over your shoulder to make sure Wooyoung hasn't reappeared. "Hopefully washing up makes him feel a little better."
The information causes a sad smile to lift the corners of Yeosang's lips. "Thank you for taking care of him."
"I'll try to keep you updated or let you know if he needs anything."
Yeosang nods, "Please do."
The two of you say your goodbyes and you shut the door back as softly as possible before setting the items Yeosang brought on his bed and returning to the door of the bathroom. You knock a few times, making sure it's okay that you enter, to which you only receive a half-hearted hum as permission. You peer in and see the tub still remains untouched. Frowning, you step fully inside to find Wooyoung stood in front of his sink mirror, seemingly lost in thought as he stares at his reflection.
His t-shirt lays discarded on the counter, leaving him shivering in just his red plaid boxers. His eyes are sad as they roam over his own figure, lips pursed in a thin line, expression one of disappointment. He takes in a deep breath, chest puffing out as it fills with air and deflates seconds later. Trembling, he wraps his arms around his torso and drops his gaze to the porcelain sink.
You take it upon yourself to slip into the space between him and the mirror, effectively blocking his ability to look even if he wanted to. You tilt your head enough to gaze at him from below, finding his eyelids squeezed shut and his jaw tensed.
Wooyoung's breath hitches when you place a gentle palm on his cheek, but he relaxes into the warmth of it twice as fast. You lift his head, thumb working to rub half circles into the damp skin.
You press a feathery kiss to the space between his eyes, and the action causes them to flutter open. "Hi, my beautiful boy." His bottom lip quivers the tiniest amount.
"C'mon, it'll get cold if we wait too long, yeah?"
He nods and tries to take one last look in the mirror, but you keep his face from turning enough to do so and he doesn't even try to fight you on it. Your hand slips from his cheek and reaches out for his, taking it and leading him over to the steaming tub.
"I'll grab some towels for when you're done." You offer, though it's more of an excuse to give him some privacy while he finishes undressing and slips in. You can only imagine how vulnerable he feels right now and it only feels right to extend that courtesy.
When you return he's fully submerged, covered by the opaque and foamy water. "I set out some shampoo and stuff earlier, but if you need anything else just call out, okay?" You say, crouching beside the tub and using the edge of it to rest your hands for balance. "Would it be okay if I cleaned up your room a bit?"
Wooyoung thinks for a moment, chewing at the inside of his cheek. "I won't if you don't want me to." You give him an out.
"Actually, um . . . Could you maybe just sit with me for a little? Please." His eyes flit back and forth between you and the still water.
"Of course," you whisper, using the tub's edge to push yourself to stand. You swiftly discard your own clothes and fold them up on the counter along with Wooyoung's. "Scoot up a bit," you instruct, and he does. Carefully, as to not splash any water, you step in and lower yourself into the warm liquid. Your back rests against the wall of the tub with Wooyoung positioned between your legs.
Taking a quarter-sized amount of shampoo in your palm, you begin lathering it into his hair and massaging his scalp. He stays silent while you work away, doing as you ask almost absent-mindedly when you guide him this way and that to rinse the products from his hair.
"Okay, lean back," you instruct one last time, guiding his head down to dip his hair in the water and cleanse it of conditioner.
"Thank you," he mumbles, turning his head a little bit to look at you. "You didn't have to do all that."
Leaning forward, you wrap your arms around his abdomen and rest your chin on his shoulder. "I didn't, but I wanted to."
"And I'm sorry for ignoring you, I'm so sor—"
"It's okay, I know." You mumble, lifting your head from its resting position just enough to press a kiss behind his ear. He relaxes slightly, and you continue. Peppering butterfly kisses down the side of his neck and to his shoulder.
The two of you sit in silence for a moment, the only noise a soft buzzing emitting from the fluorescent lights above. The warm water mixed with Wooyoung's even breaths work like a lullaby and you finally allow yourself a moment to relax. Your eyelids feel heavy, the stress of today's events finally catching up with your body. You rest against Wooyoung and continue to hold him, cheek smushed against his shoulder blade.
"It's okay if you want to go, I know you're probably tired." He suddenly speaks.
You hum against his skin, "I'm not leaving, not unless you ask me to."
"I just don't want you to feel like you have to, I can handle shit like this myself."
"That's the problem, Wooyoung." You sigh, not out of frustration or anything of the sort, but because your heart hurts for him and you're running out of ways to let him know you truly do want to help. "You're not a burden. Not to me, or Yeosang, or San, or Yunho— anyone. Why didn't you just tell us? You know we're there for you no matter what."
"I didn't know how," His voice breaks. "I don't like being like this. I hate who I am right now but I can't stop it!"
Wooyoung's shoulders tremble, and you can sense another pent-up wave of emotions ready to crest. "I just want to feel okay again," he sobs and you instinctively shift back, pulling him with you to recline. He sinks into the water a bit, head under your chin and resting against your chest. You reposition your arms for him to get comfortable, wrapping them around his midsection.
The final thread he'd been hanging on to finally snaps and Wooyoung completely shatters in your arms right then and there. His wails fill the room with perhaps the most heartbreaking sounds you've had the misfortune to hear. You hold him for what feels like hours, your own silent tears streaming steadily down your cheeks.
There's absolutely nothing you can say in that moment and you hate it. You hate feeling helpless, you hate that Wooyoung ever has to feel this way, and you hate the world for being so harsh to him. It isn't fair.
You can sit there and tell him everything that will be okay and kiss him better all you want, but at the end of the day, those are just empty dreams. It's ambitious to believe you alone could piece him back together in this moment. So you do the best you can, and just hold the broken pieces of him together so that none get lost. Even if they slice your skin and leave your hands bleeding, you'll make sure to handle them with the utmost care.
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lewiscarrolatemybrain · 3 months
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Y’know what I REALLY want
Time-travel Luffy-Raises-ASL-Fic where Ace still joins the Whitebeard Pirates. He isn’t motivated by wanting to surpass Roger anymore, but being a great pirate is still his dream, so their interactions start the same as in canon, with Ace attacking Whitebeard and Whitebeard offering to adopt him.
However, this time, the reason Ace freaks out and refuses isn’t because of his daddy issues or because he thinks Whitebeard will never accept the son of his enemy. It’s because Ace already has a dad. The best dad! Fuck you, old man, Ace doesn’t need another dad!
I imagine a better-adjusted Ace would end up charming the Whitebeards even faster than he did in-canon, with them doing stuff like patching him up post-failed-assassination-attempt and giving him meals like in canon, but with him thawing much faster and forgetting he’s supposed to be an enemy to these people because this time his childhood was full of friends and little brothers and adventure and joy, so he’s cracking jokes and having conversations and then remembering he’s Here On A Mission and shutting down again. And this means that they probably wear him down faster too, cause Ace was raised to see the value of family and these guys have it in spades (ha!).
Which all means that eventually, one day, instead of making the expected attempt on Whitebeard’s life, Ace instead asks if they’ve got a Den Den he could borrow.
Ace calls his dad, of course, and is already listing his million and one excuses for why he can’t join this crew and how this is so dumb and he just wanted to check in cause he hasn’t done that in a while and he knows his dad worries—
And I imagine a more mature, grown-up Luffy who remembers his brother being so very starved for love would have a lot to say about how lots of people have two fathers and he could never be upset or offended by the idea that more people might want to love and protect and support Ace, but what I really want is for him to say all that and then go “actually, put Whitebeard on the phone. Yes, really. Right now.”
So Ace has to shuffle awkwardly out on deck to hand over the Den Den like “my dad………. Wants to talk to you.”
And of course this is too funny to make private, so Whitebeard is right there on deck on speaker while all of his nosy children drop what they’re doing to crowd around and listen to this while Ace’s dad is like “Hi! I hear we’re splitting custody.”
I imagine this would be kinda weird for Whitebeard too honestly. Most of his children are orphans or come from troubled backgrounds. He’s never adopted someone who already had loving parents waiting for them back home, but here he is, chatting with this man who does not seem the least bit intimidated by speaking to Captain Whitebeard Himself.
Newgate immediately decides he likes this guy, of course, and they strike up an immediate friendship, of course. And then months later on some island when someone overhears Whitebeard affectionately mention his “co-parent” and jumps to conclusions and spreads the news about Whitebeard’s Secret Lover, the two team to do their solemn fatherly duty of antagonizing the shit out of their poor kids by Not Correcting The Rumor.
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belle--ofthebrawl · 6 months
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Let It Percolate
Pairing: Mountain/Rain
Rating: General for now, no plans for smut but it might go up if someone cracks a dirty joke down the line.
Tags: Coffeeshop Au (kind of), Mystery, Fluff, Getting Together, Meet-Cute, Bad Coffee Good Vibes.
Summary: Mountain's promotion to Head Gardener of the Abbey comes with much responsibility. He turns to a journal left by Pebble, his predecessor, in hopes of any advice he can find in the notes.
Downside: Pebble wrote everything in code because she is, forever and always, somebody with too many secrets.
Plus side: The cute new water ghoul working at the Abbey coffeeshop is willing to help Mountain solve it.
(Author's Note: I just want a low stakes mystery fic to take a break from the bump and grind of my usual writing. I don't know how fast this will update.)
Mountain had heard mixed reviews about the little cafe the Abbey had on grounds. Beautiful to be sure, with a view of the gardens on one side with the river that meandered through it leading to the lake on the other. It was quaint, it was clean, it had little shines to various demons where one could pay a small fee and have a prayer candle lit. The study group that met there every Sunday evening would include the request in their adjourning blessings. Food was good. 
But sometimes the coffee was bad and that wasn’t great for something purporting itself to be a coffeeshop.
“There are other drinks, you know.” Zephyr had told him when he asked them about a quiet place to study. He’d been promoted to Head Gardener after Pebble’s sudden resignation and was both anxious and excited to leaf through his predecessor’s scrawled secrets from her journal. “Get the Earl Grey Tea with lavender honey syrup.”
“Sounds sweet.” Mountain tended more towards bitter flavors, plain teas and unadulterated coffees. He didn’t consider himself a purist or anything; he just didn’t want to feel like his tongue was coated in sugar after a few sips.
“Then get the coffee and suffer.” Zephyr replied, unsympathetic to Mountain’s plight.
So here he was. Drinking coffee that had definitely sat for too long and staring in utter confusion at the scrawl of Peb’s research notes. Pebble had had some of the most steady and gentle hands  Mountain has ever seen; able to carefully coax even the most delicate of sprouts up through the dirt, combing apart stuck together fronds, carefully scraping off parasites and re rooting even the most fussiest of growings.  But delicate work did not mean delicate writing. Pebble had a heavy hand with her pen, tearing through the paper as she’d written in such a godawful, looping shorthand that it gave Mountain a headache to even think about. 
“Why the shorthand?” he asked the tabletop. The scratches in the surface did not yield up any clues despite being more legible. “It’s not like the Vatican is trying to steal the secrets of our perennials.”  He took a sip of his coffee and gagged. Right. It was bad.  His eyes jumped from tabletop to beverage.  He’d paid a fair price for it but it wasn’t like that was an excuse to be terrible.  He glanced over to the counter, where he’d given his order to a new looking air ghoulette.  He liked her, Cumulus.  It was easy to order from her, with her big dimpled smile and the way she called him “honey” like it was the most natural thing in the world.
But instead of Cumulus, it was a solemn looking water ghoul and Mountain’s heart stopped in its tracks.  He didn’t know Rain worked at the cafe as well. And if sensing the thought of his name, the water ghoul looked up from where he was wiping down some counter space over to Mountain. Mountain immediately looked back down at his work and proceeded to have an internal screaming fit.  When he dared to peek up again, Rain was completely absorbed in the task of refilling a hand sanitizer bottle.  His gorgeous blue-black hair was tied up in a messy bun at the nape of his neck with a few strands escaping to curl slyly around his ear. He tucked them back with an absent-minded hand that looked far too elegant for such a simple gesture.
Mountain ducked his head again and stared at the dirt under his fingernails. It was the precise shade of the coffee he’d been so grumpy about.  Would Rain judge him for it if he went up to order something new? His hair was pulled back carelessly, unkempt and dirty from his morning spent in Pebble’s office, going through something that could politely be called “messy” (Zephyr) and rudely called “A Fucking Hoarder’s Trove” (Mist).  The only saving grace was that he hadn’t touched her fertilizer collection yet and had deemed his smell acceptable enough to hunker down in a private corner for a few hours. If he’d known Rain was going to be here, he definitely would have showered.  Maybe stolen some of Zephyr’s nice soap instead of using his usual 5-in-1.
Trapped between a terrible drink and a terrible appearance, unwilling to give up and run away, Mountain stood. Grabbed his cup and made his way towards the register where the love of his life awaited, resting his elbows on the countertop and looking bored as all get-out.
(Zephyr had once said a crush was merely a lack of information. Mountain had silently pulled up Rain’s  ID picture on the inter-Ministry online portal site and angled his laptop so Zephyr could see.
“Ah.” They’d said wisely after a few moments. “My friend, you are fucked.”)
Rain looked like he was napping, but his beautiful eyes opened and focused on Mountain as the earth ghoul came to a halt in front of the counter. His eyes were the deep shade of blue Mountain had only ever seen on late august afternoons, under a hot summer sun with not a cloud to be seen. They were the blue of an incredible vast expense, an ocean that threatened to swallow him whole and leave no trace behind if Mountain dared to get lost in them.
“Hi.” Rain said flatly, sounding as bored as he looked. “How can I help you?”
Mountain cleared his throat, unwilling for his voice to break on the first words he’d ever spoken to the water. Rain’s impossibly gorgeous eyes went from his face to his mug.
“Oh.” he said, straightening up. “Coffee sucks, huh?”
Mountain nodded.
“Sorry.” He said with a shrug, hand out to take it. “Is there anything besides coffee you want?”
“Uh…”Mountain nervously scanned the menu as Rain’s cool fingers brushed his and hoped his shudder wasn’t too obvious. He had no idea what to order besides plain black coffee. “The…chai.”
“Sure.” Rain said nonchalantly, putting the mug through the dirty dish conveyor. “Dirty?”
“My name is Mountain.” He said in confusion. His hands went behind his back to hide his nails and rub over the space where Rain touched him and tried to ignore the stab of hurt through his heart. He knew he should have showered!
“Wh-” Rain started and frowned. “Not you. Dirty chai is a drink. With espresso.”
“Isn’t that coffee?” Mountain hesitantly asked. Rain paused.
“I’m just going to get the water.” he said with a sigh. “Just go sit down, I’ll have it out in a minute.”
“Okay.” Mountain said, still confused. He went back to his seat. He stared at Pebble’s journal.  He felt his phone buzz. Glancing at it revealed a message notification from Zephyr, asking how things were going.
Mountain: :( 
Zephyr: ?
Mountain: rain
Zephyr: !
Bubbles popped up indicating the other ghoul was typing out more than just alarmed punctuation but at that very moment, Rain was making his way to Mountain’s little corner with a steaming mug on a tray. A warm blend of comforting spices hit his nose when the cup was set down and Rain tucked the tray against his side.
“Anything else?” He asked. “I’m supposed to sell the scones today since they’re nearly stale.”
“No thank you.” Mountain said politely. “Unless they're blueberry?”
“Cranberry.” Rain said with an odd little one shouldered shrug. “Think blueberry muffins are next week's thing though. I’d have to check.”
Rain then proceeded to not so subtly stare at Pebble’s journal. It was hard not to, given that it was the only other thing on the table. Calling it a book would be an injustice; this was a true tome, bound in ancient leather with thick creamy pages full of her bizarrely written notes and diagrams. Mountain tugged it towards himself protectively, but not overly so. 
“Sorry.” Rain said, the hand not holding his tray going to fiddle with his necklace. Mountain wondered if he picked out the silver chain by himself or if someone had given it to him. “That just looks cool. Did you find it in the library?”
“No.” Mountain said, feeling part of the protective knot in his heart loosen just a bit. Pebble had been…strange, to say the least. Even now with her retirement, he was loathe to risk any part of her being mocked. “I…I’m the Head Gardener now and this is just notes from the ghoul who had the job before me.” 
A pause as they both looked at the mess of ink on the page masquerading as writing.
“I think.” Mountain finished. “It's really hard to read.”
“Oh, congratulations.” Rain said, sounding genuine. “May I see it? It's just that I can read now, and I like looking at different ways of writing.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Mountain said, scotting his chair away so Rain had enough room to bend over the table. “Uh, congrats on reading?”
It sounded awkward and forced even to his own ears but Rain seemed pleased, giving Mountain a small smile.
“Some of the older water ghouls say it's unnatural and we should stick to our songs but we aren't in Hell anymore. I like singing stories as much as the next, but I also really like to be quiet too, you know?”
A joke. Rain is joking with him.
“I like being quiet too.” Mountain replied quickly and as casually as he could, put his hand over his mouth so he could stop putting his foot in it.
But Rain just gave a soft little chuckle and kept studying the journal. So Mountain studied Rain. This was the first time he'd been so close to the water ghoul. Every detail needed to be committed to memory  to recount to Zephyr later that day. The angle of his jaw, the slight hump to his nose. He had three piercings in his left ear, plain little studs in silver. His scent, tangy and tickling in Mountain's nose like grapefruit. It was actually very tingling. He was going to sneeze. He sniffed, scrunching his nose, and prayed he wouldn't.
“Yeah, I’d make that face too.” Rain said, choosing that precise moment to look back at Mountain. “What is this, shorthand? Looks like shorthand.”
Mountain slumped his chair.  
“I can't read it.” He confessed, since he was already doomed. “I thought I would be able to but it's just so…ugh.” He blew air out in a frustrated puff
“Incomprehensible.” Rain finished, pushing the journal back towards him.”Why don't you ask her about it?”
“Can't find her.” And Mountain had tried. But Pebble was a cagey, secretive ghoul to begin with and had been around since the first stone of the Abbey was laid. She wouldn't be found until she damn well wanted to be found.
Rain hummed.
“Do you want help? I like puzzles.”
He liked puzzles. Mountain was bombarded with the mental image of the two of them in winter huddled over a large table, draped in blankets as a fire roared and the light made Rain’s skin glow. They’d hunt for pieces of an enormous jigsaw, working on their own slices individually until the whole picture could be seen and maybe, just maybe, they’d kiss when it was solved.
“I would appreciate that very much.” Mountain said earnestly. He finally took a sip of the chai as Rain went back to looking at the journal and the warmth that spread through him had nothing to do with the drink in the slightest.
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satuguro · 2 years
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ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ THUS ALWAYS TO TYRANTS
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[ ACT I : EYES OF THE TIGER. ]
jacaerys velaryon x reader
#CONTAINS— not canon au, lady of a house! reader, flawed reader, later enemies to lovers, gore, blood, death, sexual content (later on in the series, after a time skip)
#AUTHORSNOTE— there will be some aspects of the original story that i changed. i added a new house that i created, and a lot of it has characteristics from greek and south east asian culture. reader has golden eyes purely for the plot, but remember, everything else is you. if you don’t like that i did any of these things, don’t read!
ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV
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there is very little known of house arslan.
jacaerys had only ever heard of them from stories and history books. they were the leaders of an entire group of islands, the islands of iona, in the summer sea, away from the mainland and further away from any war or politics. they were as careless about court politics as the north was, often keeping to themselves and only appearing when needed.
the first time jacaerys had ever seen someone from house arslan was when his family went to one of his grandfather’s events.
they didn’t brag, nor did they speak much about their home. they listened and observed to how some of the nobles bragged of their riches, spoke freely of their war strategies, and spoke so highly of themselves. jacaerys saw it, how they chose their words carefully and responded in such a way that left them satisfied, but made their house seem like a mystery.
it was as if they had played the game like that for all their years of reign. what was heard of them were usually rumors; whispers of strategic minds, their hidden animalistic ways, or the plague-ridden jungle of their island. but one rumor very few people have proven to be fact, were their tigers.
history books said that before the arslans, they were untamable. they ruled the jungle, and rightfully so— they were huge, fanged creatures with around 300 pounds of pure muscle. they were powerful, with the ability to rip their enemies to shreds, and the iona islands were infested with them.
he had noticed you then as he stood to the side of a snack table. you were surrounded by nobles in your gold and white clothing, standing next to your solemn father. his cane, adorned with a deep jade tiger head on the top, was gripped tightly by his left hand as he watched the other nobles around him. his hair was tied back into a low knot, and around his neck was a golden necklace of thorns.
the entire arslan house was known for their striking gold eyes, similar to that of a cat’s. and as jacaerys stared at the arslans, observing them similarly to how they were observing others, his eyes met golden ones.
you were observing him for much longer than he had been observing your family. you had mentally taken a note of him and his family upon your arrival to king's landing; the heir, princess rhaenyra, prince daemon, prince jacaerys, and his brother, prince lucerys. their names echoed in your head, mixed in with the other names; queen alicent, king viserys, lord otto hightower, prince aegon, and prince aemond.
"you are staring, brother," lucerys stated, hiding his smile behind a tart.
“she is staring too, luke,” jacaerys muttered, tearing his eyes away from the lady to send his brother a glare. “much longer than i have, actually.”
lucerys shrugged, his eyes moving to the different nobles gathered in the great hall. “i doubt that admitting it makes it any better.”
“the point is,” jacaerys huffed, fixing his clothing quickly, “she was looking first.”
their small bicker had left them distracted to your approach. you had excused yourself from your father and his conversation with princess rhaenyra and had quietly made your way to the snack table, where the two princes stood. you were trying your best to keep yourself from laughing, instead choosing to act casual.
you stood next to jacaerys, acting as though you hadn’t just snuck up to the princes. “although,” you mindlessly reached for a grape and carelessly interrupting their conversation, “i was more subtle in my staring.” you glanced at the princes, a witty smile gracing your face before you popped the grape into your mouth.
“i don’t believe you were,” jacaerys responded, raising a brow as he watched you move to stand in front of him and his brother.
“you can believe whatever you want to believe, my prince,” you clutched your hands in front of you, that witty smile of yours never once faltering, “but i am correct.”
a small snort was quickly covered by a cough. you turned your attention to lucerys, your eyes softening at the boyish charm he exuded as he tried (and failed) to hide his laughter behind his food. “it is a pleasure to finally meet you, prince lucerys.”
he reminded you of your older brother.
“luke is fine, lady arslan.”
“then feel free to call me y/n. ‘lady’ makes me feel old.” you turned your attention to the older prince, “you as well, prince jacaerys.”
“call me jace, please.” jacaerys sat up straight, holding a hand out towards you. “may i have a dance with you, lady arslan?”
you raised a brow at both his forwardness and his use of your title, “i told you, do not call me ‘lady’, my prince.”
“i will only stop if you refer to me only as jace.”
you narrowed your eyes at him, a small gesture of a challenge, before you placed your hand in his. softly, he closed his hand around your’s and led you into the dance.
“how do you like king’s landing so far, lady y/n?” jacaerys questioned, moving around you as you danced the celebration dance.
“it’s beautiful,” jacaerys lifted you up by the waist before placing you down again, “i have not been able to explore, but it’s beautiful nonetheless.” you moved around him yet again, a small smile on your face as you noticed he, like you, refused to find a different partner after that dance section. “may i ask you something, my prince?”
“jace.”
“how wonderful,” you held onto him as he lifted you once again. and yet again, you both refused to find another partner. “you know your own name.”
jacaerys rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself, “you’re a sarcastic one, aren’t you?”
“i never noticed.” you moved around him again, similarly to how a predator would move around an opponent. “as i was saying, my prince, why were you staring so intently at me and my family?”
your forwardness left jacaerys suddenly at a loss for words; the fact that he had been caught staring — intently, based on your words — was frankly, embarrassing. but he saw that ghost of a smirk on your lips as you looked at him with striking eyes. he saw the teasing glint in your irises that confirmed his assumption— you were teasing him.
he could feel his face heat up at your words, your hands reaching up to cheer a loud ‘hey!’ with the others. “you jest, lady y/n.”
“am not,” you grinned, the festivities’ contagious happiness influencing you much more than you would admit, “i’m just curious, that is all. you were so focused, ‘m just wondering what could have captivated you so much.”
your hands met in the middle, skin against skin, and you both moved in a slow circle; this time, connected. you could feel how warm he was, how his hand was larger than yours and littered with new callouses. yet, despite the callousness of his fingertips, his palm remained smooth.
he could feel the cold rings that adorned your fingers. the ring in the middle was stamped with your house’s tiger sigil, and the others were simple abstract bands. the gold was pressed against his skin, warming up at his touch, and jacaerys was captivated by it. he stared at your hands, his staring habit shining through once again before you spoke.
“you have not answered my question, my prince,” you murmured, curious eyes lingering on his face as you switched hands for the dance. yet again, skin touched skin. you swallowed thickly, a cheshire-like smile creeping onto your face, “your staring problem.. it’s showing.”
jacaerys coughed, face burning red as he mumbled, “no it is not, lady y/n.”
unbeknownst to the both of you, otto and alicent hightower sat at the front of the great hall, observing the prince blush like a school girl at your teasing. though, alicent didn’t pay much attention to you, for she was too preoccupied with the sense of pride bubbling in her chest at the success of the simple festivities. she had planned it all, for her dear husband was too sick to, and she succeeded. it was, well, festive; people were laughing and joking around, nobles were socializing, kids ran between the legs of their parents, and there was good food and music.
she invited everyone and brought everyone together. no one else did that but her.
but alicent felt her father’s presence next to her, watching her every move like a hawk, and she knew he had something to say about everything. for him, there was always something to say.
“do you not think that that sight is not even the least bit unusual?” otto asked behind his cup of wine, eyes focused on you and the young velaryon, both too drunk on the celebration to notice his stares.
“is there something unusual about it?” alicent questioned, keeping her voice as composed as ever. she sipped her wine, shaking her head to herself. “nobles have been wanting to dance with lady arslan since the dancing began.” she watched on as you and jacaerys raised your hands together, yelling out a ‘hey!’ that made you throw your head back in laughter. from the side, aemond stood almost broodingly, watching his nephew continue to dance with you. “i even overheard my boys talk about it,” alicent remarked, “aemond wanted to ask her to dance.”
otto raised a brow at that, all-too-thoughtful eyes looking down into his wine as he began to think. “house arslan is powerful, alicent. dislocated from the mainland, but powerful all the same.” he swirled his cup, gazing into the twirling red, “those tigers of theirs.. if princess rhaenyra was planning to wed them—”
“we do not know if that has been planned.”
“let us put it this way then,” otto gazed ahead of him, looking into the ending dance, “lady arslan and prince jacaerys have ended their dance together. they have left the celebration together,” his eyes lingered on the space where you and jacaerys last danced, now left empty while everyone cheered around it, “with no chaperone.”
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the halls of the red keep, though normally busy with maids and guards, was quiet. echoes of the celebratory music and talking from the great hall was all that was left to ripple down the corridors. but that sound was soon accompanied by the sound of rushed footsteps.
you were almost breathless as you held your skirts up above your feet, running down the hall after jacaerys. the soles of your feet ached from the uncomfortable shoes you wore, but you were much too stubborn to let some prince beat you in a race he didn’t know he was a part of.
you slowed down to a walk as you saw him stop, your chest heaving as you made quick work of removing your tight shoes. “if i had not given you a head start, then you wouldn’t have been ahead of me.”
ignoring your comment, jacaerys tilted his head, watching you curse as you removed one shoe. “what are you doing, lady y/n?”
“these shoes,” you grumbled, reluctantly allowing the soles of your feet to touch the cold stone beneath them, “are the reason why i could not dance for much longer, and the reason why i could not run as fast as you.”
“maybe i’m better than you at both.”
“you’re funny, my prince.” you huffed as you stood back up, holding your shoes in your hands. “how long will it take for people to notice that we’ve gone?” you asked, looking at the prince.
it was a hasty decision, really. during the dance, you had made a comment about not truly getting a tour of the red keep due to your arrival the night prior, and jacaerys — ever the gentleman — asked you if you wanted one. he would be your guide through the castle, but you both had to be hasty with your stroll. it was a mutual decision; a rather irresponsible one due to your titles, but a mutual decision nonetheless.
truthfully, you didn’t think that he would be so willing to leave the festivities; much less offer to leave with you, alone.
“if we stand here and converse, i suppose not long,” jacaerys quipped, holding his hands out towards your shoes in your hands. “may i?”
“prince jacaerys wants to carry my shoes,” you stated, as though in disbelief at the thought of any prince wanting to hold another’s shoes. still, you placed your shoes in his hands, and he fixed them under one arm.
“a wonderful and correct inference, lady y/n.”
“oh, just get on with the tour.” you walked quickly ahead of him, forcing him to quicken his stride alongside you. a comfortable silence befell the both of you, the muffled sounds of the party left long behind you.
you decided that the red keep was much more serious than your home. it stood tall and proud, practically untouched and unscarred. your home in iona was nothing of the sort; your people embraced nature, and so nature became its focus. stones were accompanied by vines and vines by its flowers and thorns. the mainland, in a way, was blind to the beauty of unkempt nature.
“i assume that you haven’t seen the streets of king’s landing yet, huh?” jacaerys questioned, turning to look at you. the gold of your clips, which were shaped as thorns, on your hair glistened under the light of the torches. he had heard that only the house of arslan wore thorns as a sign of their nobility on their islands. the motif adorned your arm bands and your rings; it was beautiful, he had concluded.
“regretfully, no,” you gazed at some of the tapestries you passed, “my father is rather cautious when we are on the mainland. unfamiliar territory.”
“the streets can be fairly dangerous, lady y/n,” jacaerys hummed, “but it can be beautiful. you just have to look at it from a certain angle.”
“a certain angle,” you echoed, “what angle is that, my prince?”
“patience, lady y/n.” jacaerys grinned a boyish grin, “i’m not done getting to know you yet.”
you snorted at his poor attempt at flirting (though that was a rather strong assumption to make), nudging the prince with your shoulder as you walked. how odd was it, that you were nudging prince jacaerys — the future heir to the throne — as though he was merely a boy of ten and six years? while that last part was true, it was still an unusual idea for you to comprehend; you were walking with the prince, alone, barefoot, as he held your shoes.
“don’t do that—“ jacaerys laughed, fixing your shoes under his arm, “i thought that it was a fairly good delivery.”
“oh, quite definitely. you will have women falling at your feet in no time, my prince.” you moved to situate yourself in front of him, walking backwards down the corridor. “for a tour, there are not too many historic comments being made. nor has there been any significant landmarks.”
“that is because this isn’t a tour, lady y/n.” jacaerys swiftly moved to walk next to you yet again, forcing you to turn yourself forward. ahead of you stood a rather large door, one he opened ever so slightly. with an outstretched hand, he motioned for you to enter first. “lady y/n,” he commented, making you roll your eyes and place your hand in his yet again.
the breeze outside had some strength to it, but its temperature was moderate as you stood out on the balcony alongside jacaerys. it was completely dark except for the two torches next to the door, but the lack of light was truly worth it for the view you had.
below you, the streets of king’s landing was lit up with its street lights. even at night it was bustling with markets, entertainment, music, and people, all glowing under the lights that decorated the streets. the lines of light that went down the streets seemed to stretch on for miles, the lines getting smaller as they did, but still as bright as ever. you could see the houses and their windows, some of them open to let the breeze in. lines of the city went on for miles and almost surrounded the red keep.
“this was the angle i was speaking of,” jacaerys said, leaning against the railing as he stared at the city alongside you. your shoulders were touching with how close the two of you were, and there was a certain amount of warmth that came with it that left comfort in his heart. he looked at you, thankful that you were too enamored in the city to notice how he was staring yet again.
“it’s breathtaking,” you murmured, too focused on the lights to come up with a witty remark. you turned to him to find him staring at you already, his face unreadable. “when did you think of bringing me here?”
“you said that you have not seen the streets of king’s landing because your father was cautious,” jacaerys shrugged, tearing his eyes away from you to look at the star filled sky, “i believe that this is the best solution; a safe yet beautiful way to see king’s landing at night.”
you couldn’t help the genuine smile that appeared on your face at his words. the fact that he had thought of such a way to let you see the city was a gesture you honestly wouldn’t just let go as if it was nothing. “you’re a good man, my prince.”
“you would think that after i bring you here, you would at least call me jace,” jacaerys said, a laugh escaping him as you rolled your eyes and nudged him yet again. “c’mon, lady y/n, just call me jace.”
“okay, jace,” you grinned at him, failing to notice the blush on his face, “you are quite persuasive. you’ll make a good king some day.”
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after your brother disappeared, you had learned to trust your gut instinct.
you had a horrible habit of thinking too much into things that it clouded your judgement. your older brother, magnus, always noticed when you’d ‘drift away’ from conversation whenever something hooked your mind.
he’d always nudge you softly, saying a small, “keep yourself grounded, sister,” that always brought you back.
his disappearance had left you to deal with those moments on your own. even after three years and being the age of six and ten, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to do it at times. but all those criticizing thoughts always began with that tugging feeling in your gut.
that was what you felt now, as you and jacaerys made your way back to the festivities. because in the distance, a silhouette of a tall and lanky man came into view before you both could continue down the hallway. there it was— the tugging feeling in your stomach that signaled that something was not right. hesitantly, you took your shoes from jacaerys, interrupting his talk about his dragon.
“lord hightower,” jacaerys stated, the rest of his words dying in his throat as he looked up at the hand of the king. he, too, felt that pit in his stomach, for while you knew nothing much of the man, jacaerys knew enough of him to not trust him.
“prince jacaerys, lady arslan,” otto’s stern eyes flashed your way, looking down briefly at the shoes you held, before returning to the prince, “how nice it is to find the both of you,” he clasped his hands together, towering over the both of you, “i am sure that you are missed in the celebration.” his tone was sharp, implying something else entirely as he stood in front of you.
“we were just making our way back, lord hightower,” you responded, cursing yourself for the slight waver in your voice. “it was a pleasure to see you.” ever so quickly, you moved past the man, jacaerys following closely behind you. goosebumps ran up and down your arms at the feeling of eyes behind your back, and as you turned your head to look, you saw lord otto hightower’s eyes burn holes into you.
the walk to the entrance of the great hall was quiet, the both of you basking in the relief that came with avoiding a possible consequence. you stopped to the side of the entrance, leaning down to fix your shoes back on before you stood back up. you fixed your hair the best you could (the wind from the balcony had done a number on you, you were sure of it), turning to the prince. “how do i look?”
jacaerys looked at you then, standing under a torchlight, and felt his mouth run dry. the good bands that decorated your arms shone bright under the flames, and he could see the dusting of crushed seashells on your skin that left it glittering. your golden eyes shone bright as they stared at him, waiting for his answer. “good,” he murmured, and that was (thankfully) enough for you.
“good.” you nodded your head, peeking into the great hall before turning to him, “are you ready, jace?”
“as long as you are, y/n.”
you both slipped into the great hall, easily blending in with the crowd as you made your way to where your father stood. he was in front of princess rhaenyra and prince daemon, both of whom were sitting in their respective seats at the front of the great hall. you moved to stand next to your father, your presence making him turn his head towards you and raise a brow.
“princess rhaenyra, prince daemon,” you bowed your head slightly, as your curtsied, “it is a pleasure to finally meet you both.”
jacaerys slipped into his seat next to his mother, ignoring the look daemon gave him as he quickly fixed his hair and clothes. he reached for his cup, feigning exhaustion from dancing.
rhaenyra looked at you, your hair (while honestly, still well pinned back) slightly messy, and the entrance of her eldest son with messier hair. a small smile graced the heir’s face, and she made a mental note to gently tease her son about it later. “it’s wonderful to meet you, lady arslan. i hope you enjoyed the dances as much as my son has.”
your face reddened at the comment, but you nodded in response, “indeed.”
“y/n, i was inviting princess rhaenyra and her family to stay in iona for some time,” lord aegeus commented, and you raised your brows at that.
after your brother’s disappearance, very little visitors had visited iona. there were the occasional diplomats and traders, but no one with as much importance as the heir and her family. your father had become a shadow of himself after he lost your mother upon your birth, and after magnus was gone, he threw himself into focusing only on his people and you. to hear that he was offering to house the heir was, frankly, completely unlike him.
“it would be wonderful to finally see iona’s islands,” princess rhaenyra said, “i have always wanted to go there as a child. it’s always seemed so beautiful.”
“iona will surely welcome you,” lord aegeus responded, a shadow of a smile on his lips. “how does visiting in two weeks time sound? if it is allowed in your schedule, princess.”
you felt that feeling again as they continued to talk; the feeling of eyes burning into your skull. you looked down the right of the table in front of you, gazing past the throne and to the hightowers. both of them were listening to everything princess rhaenyra and lord aegeus was saying.
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ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV
#AUTHORSNOTE— surprise, i write for house of the dragon now. sorry if i get anything wrong in regards to the titles, greetings, etc! i'll start a tag list if people are interested in this. feel free to send me asks about this series!
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psychospore · 1 year
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Parallel Lines
A/N: sharing the angst I'm feeling lol
Masterlist
Summary: You and Loki were truly, madly, deeply in love with each other - until he decided to marry the prettiest girl, the Princess of Alfheim.
Pairing: Prince!Loki x Low-Ranking Noble Asgardian!Reader
Warning: Angst, Mutual Pining, Lovers to Strangers
Finally, Prince Loki is getting married - not just to anyone but to the finest princess from Alfheim, much to everyone's delight except you.
He was your world, and you were his too once but fate is such a cruel mistress and here you are trying to hold back the tears as you walk towards the great hall to witness the marriage of your beloved to another woman - a woman who was leagues better than you could ever be.
You wanted to run away but as the daughter of a low-ranking noble, you were there to represent your house in the absence of your parents. Soon, you will swear your allegiance to the Prince and his new wife.
It was a grand celebration, grander than all you have seen before but you wanted to run home and cry as soon as it ends, and wallow in sadness. It felt like forever and each second of the ceremony stung like needles. Never did Loki glance in your direction all throughout, you doubt he even knew you were there or did he ever care? What hurt the most was when you saw Loki smiled as he cupped the cheek of his wife for a kiss.
Right after the wedding, the people crowded to cheer for the newlyweds but you decided it would be the best time to leave. As you walked away, tears pooled from your eyes and blurred your vision. It was too painful for you. Deep in your thoughts, you were startled when someone grabbed you by the wrist. It was Loki.
You stared at his solemn eyes for some time, eyes still red and stinging and words unable to form in your mouth.
"I'm sorry... I didn't know you would be here," he apologized.
You wiped the tears from your eyes, "Oh - I must have gotten something in my eye," you lied "Congratulations on your wedding. I'm so happy for you," another lie. Tears started to pool again.
You knew the Prince of Lies would see through it, but does it even matter what you feel. You did not come here on your own accord, it's just a formality as part of a noble house.
"I still love you," he said.
"You are a married man now, there's no room for me to be there in your heart. I have loved you greatly and I still do but you have found yourself a perfect match," you answered as a lump in your throat forms, breaking your voice.
"I have my duty to the people. Still, a selfish part of me yearns for you. Every time I look at her, it's you I desire - despite her perfection, it's you, always has and always will be, darling, "
"Please, no more excuses, Loki. What we were is but a figment of the past. Let her be the only one there in your heart. She deserves it. I am glad I've met you but there's no more "us" moving forward. May the gods grant me the selfish wish of never crossing paths again with you, not in this life or in another."
You walked away without hearing Loki's response - not once looking back. Loki fell to his knees in frustration and regret, but you are right - he made his decision when he accepted the proposal and you don't deserve to be hurt any longer. He lost the love of his life forever.
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duckymcdoorknob · 7 months
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Hi ducky can I please have an emergency request? can u write a story for a y/n who keeps her emotions in bc every time she tries to tell someone someone else complains about something.
and I think u started watching black clover so can u write it with luck and magna ? either together or separate is okey.
thank u 💔
Yes you sure can.
Bumping this one up bc I’m really feeling this hardcore rn
I may make this kinda self-indulgent with the issues y/n is facing???
My dms are open if you wanna vent! I’m here for you, anon. 💜💜💜💜
CW BELOW THE CUT: none.
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Luck Voltia and Magna Swing
Things weren’t going too well for you, there’s no way to hide that fact.
From whatever it was, your day was poisoned by unhappiness, and you didn’t know what to do to aid it.
Of course, you refused to let any of the other bulls in on how you were feeling. It was especially difficult to keep Asta from pestering you; the kid is very attentive.
“Show. Never tell.” Is what you would tell yourself, forcing the feelings back into a tiny box.
You tried so hard to keep your face up as you walked through the base, but most days it was impossible to get anything besides a hopeless frown.
When asked how you were, you shrugged it off, merely explaining that you just have a “resting sad face”
Many believed you, nodding with an “ohh” while walking away.
But Magna we’re not buying into any of your nonsense. The two would exchange worried glances at your excuses.
When the team slowly gathered together in the living room after dinner, you were not doing great whatsoever. Your mood was sour, and you were barely focused on anything.
“Hey, everything alright?” Asta asked as he sat next to you. “You didn’t eat at dinner, and usually you have a great appetite.”
You sighed with a broken smile, “To be honest I’m-“
“Oh my god, Asta, did you see what Yami had me doing today? I didn’t get a break once! I’m so tired of being his wheels all the time,” Finral whined as he plopped down next to the anti-magic user.
To your dismay, everyone gathered around their senior to listen to his tale of woe, leaving you behind and ignored again.
You stand up and retreat to your bedroom, leaving without a single word.
You didn’t have much time alone before there was a gentle knocking on your door. “(Y/N)? Can we come in?” It was Luck’s voice…?
You didn’t reply, instead burying your head into your pillow. You heard their bickering through the door.
“Looks like we’re doing this the hard way-“
“Magna no! They didn’t give us permission to come in-“
“And what if something happened to them?? Would you rather us stand out here and do nothing when-“
“You need to respect their wishes!”
“You can come in,” you say stoically, not moving from your previous position.
The door opens slowly, revealing the two bulls.
“Hey, careful doing that,” Magna quickly made his way over to your bed, turning your head toward them. “You’ll suffocate if you don’t leave room for air.”
“Whatever…” you murmur, eyes glazed over.
“(N/N),” Luck begins, “Are you okay?”
You sit upright to greet them “Yeah I’m-“
“No, like actually okay,” he interrupts, moving to sit next to you.
There’s a solemn silence…
“Hey, (N/N), tell us what’s going on, kid,” Magna hums as he brushes a few stray hairs out of your face, sitting on your other side.
They wait with baited breath for your reply, worry evident in their eyes.
“I’m not okay… and I don’t know what to do,” you finally confess in a sotto-voce tone.
Both put a supportive hand on your back or shoulder, listening carefully.
“Everything is falling apart… and I-I’m not sure what to do. I’m usually g-good at fixing things but…” you laugh a bit in pitifulness, “I can’t even fix myself.”
“You don’t have to fix yourself; that’s why we’re here,” the mowhawked mage mutters, squeezing your shoulder gingerly.
“But what if I can’t be fixed? What if I have to live like this every day?”
“Nothing lasts forever,” Luck’s sweet voice chimes. “Time won’t stop whenever you feel sad, it will keep moving and you’ll be forced to feel better.”
“It feels so hopeless… nobody cares…” you whisper
“That’s not-“ he attempts.
“It is true. The moment Fin complained, everyone turned to listen to him instead. I don’t feel heard or respected… I don’t-“ tears start to fill your eyes “I feel so alone.”
“Hey,” Magna’s low voice sounds, “You are far from alone…” he wipes a falling tear with his thumb. “You have people who love you and are willing to support you every step of the way.”
“Yeah!” A quiet cheer of approval left the lightning mage. “You know how much we love you, and we would do anything for you to feel like yourself again.”
The flame mage gets in front of you, locking your eyes. “Tell us anything that’s on your mind… what’s making you feel like less than you are? Anything is fair game, don’t be afraid.”
You look around at their concerned faces once more, and suddenly everything falls apart. Your shoulders heave up and down as your body is wracked with the sobs you’ve been keeping hidden.
As you wail loudly, the two instantly move in to hug you. Magna cradles your head against his chest while Luck hugs around your torso and lays his head on your lap.
The two wordlessly cling onto you as you spill your tale of woe. Many—having heard your pained cries— attempt to check in multiple times. Magna shooed them instantly, shooting a death glare to anyone who tried to enter.
When you finally finished, you slumped downward, resting in their loving embrace. “Thank you…”
“Anytime, kid… anytime.” Magna whispered as he pats your shoulder.
When no response was given from the Cherry berserker, the two of you look down to notice that he had fallen asleep on your lap.
And for the first time that day, you started laughing.
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—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————
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prongsie-kins · 17 days
Text
as promised, here's the first part of when i met you, also posted on ao3
this is a filo!james au revolving around james potter courting regulus black in a semi-traditional way
disclaimer: english is NOT my first language and not the type that this would be beautifully written but there might be some grammatical error i didn't notice while editing. also keep in mind that this is my first multichapter fic and im still trying to improve my writing
Next
there i was, an empty piece of a shell, just minding my own world
Honestly, sixth year is definitely the year James' anticipating. He just knew that this will be the year he would treasure. It all first started when he laid eyes on Regulus back on the train. It's like this man just gets more beautiful as years go by. Not that he's attracted to him, no. You can say he's just...very observant.
Though he also noticed the dark circles sitting under his eyes. He knows Sirius leaving really took a toll on the both of them. He has heard Sirius' silent sobbing when he thinks no one can hear him.
As if sensing someone watching him, Regulus looks up from the book he's reading. Meeting James' eyes. His face pulled into a frown. "What are you doing?"
"Came to say hi, Reg." He gently waved his hand as if to prove a point, displaying a tight-lipped smile.
"Don't call me that," Regulus deadpans before raising his book by his face. Clearly indicating that he's not interested in having a conversation.
"Well then, see you around, Reggie." He walked away before the man even get to complain about the nickname.
He was greeting by the solemn face of Sirius when he came back to their compartment, leaning onto Remus' shoulder. He was looking out to the window as if there's something interesting in grass, grass, and grass.
"Where were you?" Remus asked.
"The loo." He sat down next to Peter. "Just saw Regulus at the other compartment," He continued, eyeing Sirius as he visibly perked up.
Sirius suddenly stood up. Excusing himself to go. James knew the brothers needed to talk.
He came back a while later. His eyes, red-rimmed as he sunk down next to Remus.
It took a while for James to ask what happened. Breaking the deafening silence.
"He lashed out," Sirius muttered. "I mean, I understand since I left him there. I just hoped he wasn't closed off like that. I missed him, Prongs."
James walked up to him, opening his arms, offering a hug which Sirius accepted immediately. "I know," he whispered. He gently rubbed circles on Sirius' back. They were quickly enveloped in a hug. The four of them in the middle of the compartment.
It was devastating, seeing Sirius' constant attempt to talk to his brother only to be shunned down. But he was persistent. It hurts to see him try to smile after another failed attempt to talk to Regulus.
James wanted to talk to Regulus but he know it's not his problem to deal with. So he can only watch Sirius trying and trying and trying and being there for him when he was ignored.
He sure hoped Regulus would come around soon enough. He didn't know if this interest in Regulus was for Sirius or his own benefit. Either way he can't help but check up on him every chance he can get.
The somber look on his face only gets worse day by day. One time he saw Regulus in the library. His head lays on an open book he was reading. It's obvious that he doesn't get enough sleep. Even in his slumber, his face was still frowning, James wanted to press his thumb on the crease between his eyebrows to let his face relax.
Of course he didn't do it. He even wondered why he thought of that in the first place.
Regulus constantly feels James in his orbit. He can always feel him lingering around. It was not just him who notice. Barty even bugged him if he was having a secret rendezvous with James behind their backs. He threw a pillow at him in response.
James was not even trying to be subtle when he stare at Regulus' direction in the Great Hall. Every time he glanced up at the Gryffindor's table when he thought James tore his attention off him, their eyes would meet. Every. Fucking. Time.
It's like this man doesn't have anything else to do. Even Sirius takes a break every once in a while.
Regulus is getting annoyed, to be honest. Who wouldn't when someone you despise is a persistent little shit even when he's not trying.
"What exactly are you doing, Potter?" Regulus finally asked when one day he felt James' looming figure nearing his previously sleeping figure. He open his eyes to meet James' face near him. Cold grey eyes meeting his wide dark brown ones.
He was obviously startled, assuming Regulus was asleep. He quickly replaced his startled expression with a smug one. "Did you know you snore when you sleep?"
He quickly sat straight up. "I do not," Regulus frowned.
"I wish my ears were deceiving me but no, you snore quite loudly." James smirked. "As for what I was doing. I wanted to wake you up 'cause you're disturbing students with your snorts."
"Sure," Regulus replies, obviously not believing every word the man said. "As if I didn't notice littering around when you think I don't know. Honestly, Potter, I would assume you fancy me."
He expected a defensive reply. But edge of his lips just upturned. "What if I do?"
"Oh shove off."
"Sirius misses you, you know?" James suddenly said, quietly.
Regulus was obviously taken aback. So this is what this is about. "Why do you care, Potter. I obviously don't care. Mind your own business." He quickly stood and took his things to get out of the library. If his heart clenched at the statement. Nobody's gonna know about it.
A few weeks has passed. Regulus slumped back down to his bed, shakily sighing in relief. It was him who approached Sirius this time after weeks of trying to talk to him. The heavy feeling in his chest immediately vanishing after their talk. He sure missed his brother dearly. He can dwell on that the best he can and ignore the situation in his own household. That is a problem future Regulus would handle. Tonight, he would bask on this giddy feeling.
"You seem to be in a good mood. I'm assuming the talk went well?" Pandora, who was sitting by his bed asked.
"I feel like I can sleep peacefully now."
"Oh, thank Merlin," Evan commented. "I wouldn't have to deal with you moping late at night anymore."
"Fuck you," he glared at him. "I don't mope."
"As you say so."
James immediately knew the talk went well when Sirius came back all smiley and jumpy. He got quite worried when Regulus got up to their table at the Great Hall, asking Sirius if he could talk to him. He sags in relief, ecstatic to see the brothers fix their relationship.
But then, James suddenly realized that now that the situation is okay, he wouldn't have a reason to approach Regulus now. Just when he (finally) admitted to himself that he quite fancy him. Maybe observing him for Sirius is just one of the factors of why he was drawn to him.
"I'll walk you there, come on," James wasn't even supposed to be there. Regulus is on his way to Charms when James suddenly appeared by his side. Asking where he was going. Even offering to carry his things.
"Don't you have classes to attend to?"
"Doesn't matter, let's go," James said as walked ahead of him.
Regulus hastily walked by his side. This long legged bastard. Seriously, what does this guy want? His relationship with Sirius is obviously okay now so he doesn't see the reason why James keep lingering.
"Why are you here, anyway?"
"Well, I was serving detention."
"So you escaped to sneak up on me? I'm a prefect you know?"
"Oh I am aware. You wouldn't take points from me now, wouldn't you?" Before he even gets a chance to reply, they finally arrived. "I'll be back after class, Reggie." James waves as he gave him his things. "Don't be surprised next time, love. Liligawan na kita."
Next
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lust4life01 · 9 months
Text
Forbidden
Warnings!! 18+ smut, professor x student, unprotective sex, oral sex (m recieving), fingering, praises.
Pairing: Adam Bell x f/reader
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From the minute you stepped into your History class and made eye contact with your professor, you knew you wouldn't miss a single class that year.
You had noticed each other from the very first day. 
The way his eyes scanned over you in temptation, the constant glances while he was in the middle of the lecture and the top grades that continuously graced over your paper showed you weren't crazy.
He wanted you too.
 
Although he was kind and sweet with this unconscious need to look after you, despite only doing so through  longing stares and occasional small talk when handing back assignments, his desire for you could be seen behind his sweet eyes.
You wondered if he would ever give in. Give in to you. Sure people would say it's a moral outrage, sleeping with your professor but you didn't care. If it's wrong, you didn't want to be right.
 Honestly you enjoyed the fact it was seen as wrong, the forbidden attraction, the chase. 
Adam Bell on the other hand, was clearly apprehensive. But you saw it, the way his eyes would stick to your skin like glue anytime you would wear anything slightly revealing. Or even the way his eyes traced over your face sweetly when you were talking to him. 
You were now, however, just frustrated. You wanted him badly. He consumed your every thought, to the point the thought of getting with another college student made your skin shudder. Passing glances and short conversations aren't enough anymore.
You were sitting in your usual spot which was near the front, wearing a tank top that pushed up your chest nicely and exposed your bra straps. Your hair sat beautifully, like you had just come out of a hair care commercial, you knew today had to be the day to get something from him.
 He arrived late today, which was typical considering you looked like you could be in a vogue magazine on the one day he showed up late. 
 He rushed in and got straight into the lesson. Not even a glance was shot at you, which made you even more determined to get his attention.
As he was talking in great depth about dictators and their obsessions, his eyes finally scanned the room. His words cut off when his gaze settled on you, literally forgetting what he was saying.
After the lecture was over and everyone else was leaving the room, you walked over to his desk, the sound of your fuck me pumps hitting the floor made him look up from his laptop and up at you.
“(y,n), what can I help you with?” he asked with a small smile. 
Realistically, he knew when you came over at the end of the class to ask him to look over notes or re-explain things, you were just using it as an excuse to speak to him. He knew you weren't stupid, you didn't need his help at all but he would still play along. He also enjoyed when you would stay behind and he definitely didn't mind it, especially not today.
As you begin to spout off lies about needing a further explanation about how dictators obsessions are always patterns he interrupts you.
“Do you want to know what I think?” He looked into your eyes, as his slowly dipped down to your lips for a second too long and back up again, his own bright blue eyes looking into yours.
Intrigued by his wicked smirk you nodded with a playful smile creeping across your face.
“I think you don't need my help at all (y,n). You’re a smart girl, I guarantee you’ll get the highest grade out of the class on your next paper. So why are you really here hmh?”
You looked down in slight embarrassment as you let out a chuckle before bringing your gaze back up to his shit eating grin.
“Oops, you caught me” as you giggle you place your hand on his forearm and make strong eye contact.
“You’re intriguing Adam, I like to talk to you.” 
Your tone had shifted from playful to solemn and almost lustful.
You both stayed put, eyes fixated on each other until he peered down at your slightly parted plump lips. Apparently the lack of action had been eating away at him too, as he grabbed your jaw and brought your lips together softly. You kissed him back and let out a quiet whimper as the kiss became more desperate.
He pulled away, keeping his hand on your jaw, he let out a breath as his expression fell to slight concern. “Im sorry, that was unprofessional and wrong-”
“Please kiss me again Adam” you whined out before he could continue his sentence.
He could see the way you craved him through your doe eyes.. He bit his lip, realising his attraction to you was so much stronger than whatever moral debate was about to commence in his head.
 So he crashed your lips together again, this time more hungrily. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and groaned as your hand snuck into his hair.
Pulling away from the kiss as you heard his next class arriving, you wasted no time asking the question burning inside of you
“Fuck, I need to see you Adam. Can I see you tonight?”
He nodded vigorously and quickly wrote down his address on a post it note, handing it as you practically ran out of the door. Instead of greeting his next class he was too busy staring at your figure as you walked down the hall.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the time you had knocked on his apartment door and he had opened it, you were already pinned to the wall with Adams tongue down your throat. His hard on pressed against your front as you made out.
A moan slipped past your lips as he grabbed the backs of your thighs, and carried to his countertop. “Fuck Adam”
He rushed to pull off your pants, lifting your hips to help him pull them off he then dragged your panties down your bare thigh slowly. He watched your face carefully, wanting to savour the moment and keep it in his memory forever.
As his big veiny hands were placed on your slightly parted thighs, pulling your laced underwear down your leg painfully slowly, you bite your lip at the ache that resided between your legs.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful (y,n). Thought about this moment from the minute I laid my eyes on you.” he groaned as his fingers made their way between your legs.
His middle and pointer fingers collected the wetness that had accumulated from your core, he rubbed your clit slowly, making you moan out as your head fell back, exposing your throat.
He took that as an invitation to attach his lips to your neck, leaving a small bruise. As he continued to rub your clit slowly, he brought his other hand to your heat and pressed two fingers into you.
The whimpers coming from your lips as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you could be heard from down the hall. The stimulation on your clit, the pace he was thrusting his fingers into you and the assault on your throat was about to send you over the edge.
“Shit Adam, I think im gonna cum-”
He quickened his pace as he removed his lips from your neck  and stared down at you
“Look at me, Look at me when you cum.” The assertive low tone only added to the rising  tension.
You tried your best to keep your eyes on him as your orgasm hit, letting out a high pitched moan as pleasure rushed through you. You kissed him harshly, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you.
Adam once again picked you up and carried you to his room, he placed you on the bed as he stood at the edge. You crawled over to him, while sitting on your knees in front of him he removed your shirt and bra, leaving you bare.
While admiring you he grabbed your chin to look up at him, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. You took his thumb into your mouth and sucked harshly, peering up at him innocently. 
“So fucking pretty.” he muttered, fixated on you.
Taking his thumb from your lips you sat up to fully remove his half removed shirt and tie, before pulling down his pants and boxers.
He was so hard, it looked painful. Smirking up you took him into your hand and spat on his tip, watching the way his hips bucked and he groaned. 
You licked him from base to tip before taking him in your mouth slowly. His face contorted in pleasure as he grabbed your hair. You bobbed your head a couple times until Adam genitally pulled your mouth from him.
You stared up at him in confusion. “Don't you want me to suck your cock?”
“Please (y,n) let me fuck you, please.” His face was desperate yet still sweet.
You reached up to kiss him and he pushed the both of you to the bed, now on top of you. He kissed down your body, reaching your tits he wasted no time taking your nipple into his mouth.
Moaning, you wrapped your legs around his waist.
“Are you on birth control?” he asked through heavy breathes
 You nodded. “Mhm, please just fuck me.”
And with that he was thrusting into you within seconds. Pants, moans and heat filled the room as he fucked you harshly.
“You’re so big, fuck, Adam.” you cry out
“Mhm doing so well baby, taking me so good. Fuck such a good girl.”
His praises made it harder to not let the coils in your stomach snap, you cried out with every thrust.
Adam was also trying to not cum at just the sight of you, and the way he squeezed him so beautifully didn't help.
Both of you could feel your highs approaching, Adam rubbed your clit harshly. Your high followed immediately and you came with a whimper. As you squeezed him, Adam he moaned into the crook of your neck, spilling his cum deep inside of him.
His beard tickles your chest as you play with his hair as you both came down from your highs.
You both laid there for a while, just admiring and listening to each other's breathing. His big open palm ran up and down your leg as you played with his hair.
(Not proof read, also im so down bad for Jake as Adam Bell its acually concerning lolll)
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Text
Decaying Godhood- Chapter 2: Solemn Freedom
<- Chapter 1 ● Chapter 3 ->
“Nothing is moving…”
Nyx sat quietly on the ground, watching the three look out the giant golden door. Occasionally one of them would look back at her. It made her feel something unpleasant, she wasn’t entirely sure what it was though.
“No one is collapsing, either…” Minako said, “it’s like they’re frozen in time.”
“Do you think it’s just the view we have from here?” Minato asked.
“No,” Ryoji answered, “something doesn’t feel right… at all.”
Minako glanced back at Nyx, “do things feel off to you?”
She nodded.
“Well… what do we do?” Minako moved her attention to the other two.
“Wait.” Ryoji pointed out of the door, “something’s moving.”
The twins looked carefully.
“It looks like a person…” Minato said.
“No way,” Minako gently pulled the hair away from his eyes, “look again, no human has hair that white.”
“Akihiko-senpai had white hair, though.”
Minako shook her head, “but not that bright!”
Ryoji cleared his throat, “how about the feathers? Humans don’t have wings.”
“Are they wings? It looks more like a cape.” Minako let go of Minato’s hair, “check out all that gold too…”
“Either this guy is just really rich, or not human.” Minato said flatly, turning away.
“And those are mutually exclusive?” Ryoji moved away from the door. “They could be both.”
“I suppose so.”
“Guys.” Nyx flinched when all three quickly looked at her, “they’re moving, right? Does it matter what they look like?”
Ryoji sighed, “no, you’re right.” He faced the twins, “what should we do?”
“I don’t know, but…” Minako gestured out the door, “there’s someone else there now.”
Ryoji and Minato quickly looked out again.
“I’m going to investigate.” Ryoji said suddenly, “you two stay here… whatever is happening seems to only be affecting humans.”
“Wait, how do we know it’s safe?” Minako questioned, folding her arms.
“I can’t die, remember?”
“Yes but-“
“Ryoji!”
The three slowly looked at Nyx. She bit her tongue, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to shout… it’s just.” She stood up, “have you felt anyone die?”
Ryoji narrowed his eyes, “what are you saying?”
“You’re Death,” she said, “you should be able to tell if people are leaving this world.”
Ryoji paused. Nyx could tell he didn’t want to take her words, but he pondered anyway.
“No one is dying.”
“There you have it,” Nyx said, “the world is at a standstill.“
Minato glanced at Ryoji.
“…You’re coming with me.” Ryoji slashed the chains off of Nyx’s wrists and neck, “I don’t trust you to stay with them.”
“That’s fair…” Nyx nodded, holding her wrist.
Minato placed a hand on Ryoji’s shoulder, “may I speak with you first?”
Nyx watched them wander off. Minako approached her, grabbing her hands.
“Listen, I know… he has every right to be mad at you, but…” Minako picked up her evoker, placing it in Nyx’s hands, “I hope you’ll protect him. Even if he doesn’t want you to.”
Nyx felt her eyes begin to water.
Minako smiled, “I don’t know if I can stay mad at you… it wasn’t really your fault, was it?”
“You don’t have to make excuses for me.”
“I know, but it wasn’t you, was it?”
Nyx could feel her heart sting. Minako was right, but she felt as though she couldn’t admit it.
“Does it matter?” Nyx asked, “I still tried to do it.”
“Nyx, you weren’t even a person, then,” Minako patted her shoulder, “you were… an idea, a force of nature. Of course you didn’t know the harm it would bring.” She held her hand, “I… know about Erebus. I’m sure reflecting on all of that now must…” Minako shook her head. “I’m putting my trust in you. Now is your chance to become a great individual.”
Now she couldn’t see. Tears flooded from her eyes, dropping onto her hands below.
“I know gods probably can’t get Personas, but… I want you to take that evoker with you.” Minako attempted to wipe away the tears with her stone fingers, “ah sorry! That probably isn’t very comforting.”
Nyx laughed slightly, “thank you, Minako.”
“Damn, you made her cry?”
Nyx could barely make out Minato’s form before her.
“I didn’t mean to…” Minako said.
Nyx wiped her eyes, looking at Ryoji. His gaze still held disdain, but had softened slightly.
“Oh that’s a good idea!” Minako noted Ryoji wearing a SEES armband. She removed her own, the bright red colour returning as she wrapped it around Nyx’s arm. “Now you guys gotta go be the heroes, okay?”
Nyx smiled softly, bowing to her, “I won’t let you down.”
“Ryoji,” Minato said, “are you gonna give it to her?”
Ryoji sighed, “if you act out I’m taking this back,” he held out the sword he had used while he was Nyx Avatar.
Nyx carefully took it, “thank you, Ryoji.”
Ryoji nodded, facing Minato again, “we’ll be back.”
Minato smiled softly, “and we’ll be watching over you two.”
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malarkgirlypop · 6 months
Text
MEDIC! Part 19 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)
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Ok guys just read this one really quick so I can upload Chapter 20, ok, cool, you got it. Great, alright read fast!
Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.Keep reading
Tag list: @next-autopsy, @panzershrike-pretz, @xxluckystrike, @bucky32557038ww2 (let me know if you want to be tagged.)
I hurried along the streets, saying hello to the men I passed. I finally made it to the house. Hearing familiar voices from the upper room I made my way up the staircase. 
“Ah there she is. We were wondering where you disappeared too.” Babe said as I reached the top. 
“I’m a busy bee Babe, you should know that.” I sat next to the man, who perched on the edge of the bunk. 
“Oh, bunk beds.” I said bouncing up and down on the mattress, it squeaked under me.
“Saved you the lower bunk under me.” Babe told me. I smiled at him, giving his hair a tousle. 
“Ah you’re a sweetheart.” He grinned at me. I glanced across the room to see Don standing on the far side looking out the window smoking. A solemn expression visible on his features. I watched him just smoking. 
“He’s been like that since we started coming from Rachamps.” Babe whispered to me, I nodded agreeing with him. I don’t know what happened. Was it because he knew I was ok, he finally let himself process. If that was the case I feel awful, they were his friends before I was close with them. I let it cloud my thoughts so much I couldn’t even ensure that he was fine. Now he’s stepping back from me, is that what he wants? I need to talk to him, but I can’t get him alone at the moment, now that he’s a ranking officer it seems like everyone needs to talk to him. I have barely been able to have a moment with him without someone else requesting him. They obviously take priority over me. Babe’s hand landed on my knee giving it a reassuring squeeze. 
“You’ll find some time.” He says as if he can read my thoughts. I nod, turning my attention back onto the conversation the men are having as they all lie on the bunks. I’m so excited to be able to sleep on a bed with a pillow and sheets. Even if it is some crappy thin mattress, better than the cold hard floor. 
“Oh My God! I forgot to say, you’ll never guess what Webster said to me.” I announced to the group. They all waited for me to tell them. “Well firstly he was like, ‘when did nurses work on the front?’ So I corrected him. But then he said, ‘oh yeah I remember you, wow I’m surprised you’re still alive’.” I waited for their response, my mouth open to show my shocked face.
“What?!” Babe said from beside me. 
“You’re joking?” Grant asked, I shook my head. 
“That cheeky fucker.” Lieb growled. 
“I know! I was like excuse me! Rude!” I scoffed while laughing. “I think he’s being put with us.” I also told them, a collective groan echoed around the room. I laughed at their enthusiasm.  
“Oh speak of the devil.” I motioned with my head to the door, as Webster and Jones wandered in looking dazed. 
“Hey, guys. This taken?” He asked about the top bunk no one had claimed yet.
“Go ahead.” Rameriz told him, lying down on his own bunk. Webster threw his bag onto the bed claiming it for his own.        
“Sergeant, this is Lieutenant Jones, just assigned to 2nd platoon.” Webster informed Malarkey. All eyes were on the pair. The men in the corner who were helping themselves to hot drinks and standing around the heater, eyed up the young Lieutenant. 
“Malarkey, platoon Sergeant.” Don said. 
“Congratulations on the battlefield commission.” Jones said, reaching out his hand to shake Don’s. I watched as Malarkey glanced at the outstretched hand looking confused. 
“The what?” Malarkey asked, shaking his hand.   
“They’re making you an officer, no?” Jones inquired. Lieb sniggerd into his cup, as Webster turned around to glare at him. Realising too late that Lieb was just fucking with him. 
“Me? No.” Malarkey chuckled, looking back to see Grant and Lieb trying to hide their grins. “You must be thinking of First Sergeant Lipton.” Jones and Webster share a glance, clearly Webster had passed on the information that Lieb had given him this morning to the officer, only to be very wrong. Webster gave a defeated shrug and shake of his head. 
“My mistake.” Jones apologised to Don. “So you’re without a platoon leader?”
“No, not anymore, Lieutenant.” Don said to the officer. 
“Right.” Jones nodded as if he seemingly forgot his rank. “So do you want to introduce me to the men?” He asked. Don gave him a tight smile, he was busy and so were the men. 
“Well, some of them are sleeping downstairs. The rest are right here.” Jones glanced around the room looking at the men, who gave him small nods as they made eye-contact. His eyes landed on me, I gave a small smile. 
“A female.” He said, looking at me. Don turned around to look at him. “Our medic, Emily.”
“Odd for a female to be on the front.” Jones said without thinking. The chatter ceased in the room, waiting for him to say something else. 
“She’s a good medic, we’re lucky to have her.” Don said, sending me a smile. I grinned back appreciative of his defence. 
“What? Is it be mean to Emily day?” I whispered to Babe, who just chuckled, shaking his head continuing to read the comic he had picked up. Jones cleared his throat moving on from the awkward conversation he’d started. 
“Sergeant, a patrol’s being planned for tonight 0100 hours across the river. Regiment wants POWs for interrogation. What’s the situation?” Jones asked, the men moving their conversation somewhere more private, away from listening ears. The men all looked pissed, they again were being chosen to go on an attack. 
“Hey Web. Come here. I just want to talk to you for a sec” Lieb pulled the man from over by the window. Webster seemed rightly suspicious of Lieb’s motives. “Why?” He asked, resisting Lieb’s arm that snaked around his neck trying to drag him elsewhere. 
“Come here, You want some coffee.” Lieb offered as he ushered him to the bunks Babe and I sat on.
“No.” Web said, stepping out of the man’s arm. 
“Is this kid out of highschool yet?” Lieb asked Webster. They both looked over to the young officer who was speaking with Malarkey.   
“He’s out of West Point.” Webster informed the men. 
“West Point?” Lieb asked. I have no idea what West Point is. 
“Isn’t that where Ike went?” Jackson said from above me, spread out on the top bunk. 
Babe, now more invested in the conversation, put down the comic I was reading over his shoulder. Lieb stood right in front of me as he spoke to Webster, I couldn’t see anything past his butt. I leaned more into Babe so that I didn’t feel like I was being suffocated by Joe’s ass. 
“Yeah he actually graduated with his son.” Webster confirmed Jackson’s question. 
“Shit, so ah… what do you know about this patrol thing?” Lieb’s true motive revealed themselves, his cunning ability to coerce information out of you. 
“Uh, nothing.” Webster lied. I laughed, shaking my head. Oh poor sweet Webster you can’t get out of it this easily, not with Lieb you can’t. 
“Oh, come on, Web. You gotta know something.” Ramirez adds to the peer pressure. 
“I don’t.” Webster turns away fiddling with his bag. 
Lieb spits on the ground, I nudge him with my foot, mouthing gross. He just smirks at me. 
“Bullshit.” Lieb says. “You were there right? At the CP?” Chuck moves past us heading for the exit. 
“Hey, Chuck, Listen to this.” Babe calls to him, he stops to listen. McClung sits beside Babe as we scooch down the bunk to make room. 
“Come on, Webster, spill it.” Lieb is persistent with his interrogation. And now with everyone gathered around eager to hear, I’m sure he feels even more pressured. I can see his eyes finally give into it. 
“Captain Speirs is to pick 15 men. Lt. Jones wants to be one of them.” Webster casted his gaze to the man who still spoke with Don. 
“I say let the kid go. He could use the experience.” Lieb said. 
“Probably could find 14 replacements to help him out.” Ramirez grinned. 
“Why are you holding out on me? I know you know.” Lieb grilled Webster. 
“Just give us the names, Web.” Ramirez and Lieb had him backed into a metaphorical corner. 
“Who?” Lieb asked. 
Webster glanced around all of us, our eyes trained on him, he had the answers. We waited patiently knowing that Lieb and Ramirez would break him at some point.    
“There are three men here in this room that they think should be on the patrol.” Webster started. 
“Who?” Ramirez asked, was there a bunch of owls somewhere? I laughed at my own joke. Babe gave me a weird look, wondering why I was chuckling. I’m funny ok! I cleared my throat paying attention again to the conversation. 
“Well, if I tell you, you can’t let on that you know.” Webster stalled. 
“Your secret’s safe, Web. Who is it?” Lieb promised. I almost laughed again, as if he would keep his mouth shut for Webster. But Webster was gullible enough to believe that Lieb would have his best interests at heart. Webster glanced at Babe sitting next to me. Babe shook his head, he didn’t want to be chosen, he was waiting for his name not to be called. I tensed, I wasn’t particularly keen on any of the men being sent but especially not Babe. 
“Yeah, Heffron.” Webster confirmed our fears. 
“Aw, shit.” Babe groaned, dragging his hand across his face. I sighed along with Babe who looked disappointed. This time I was the one to give him a pat of reassurance on his leg. McClung, who sat on his other side, threw an arm around his shoulders.  
“McClung…” Webster continued, Earl also groaned in annoyance. Babe slapped his leg, in a well-were-in-this-together-now way. 
“And you.” Webster said to Ramirez, looking equally as disappointed as the other two. 
“He want any other guys from any other platoon?” Lieb asked, looking down into his cup of coffee.    
“No, no. I don’t know. Not that I know of. Look, that’s all I know, I’m sorry.” Webster rambled on, trying to prove to Lieb he didn’t have any more information for him to draw out.
I almost leaped off the bed when Don yelled, “Listen up!” I grabbed onto Babe's arm out of instinct. Covering my heart with my other hand, to stop it jumping out of my chest. 
“Got some bad news. There is a patrol set for tonight. And so far, Speirs wants McClung–” Don told the room. But was interrupted. 
“We know.” McClung told Don. 
“Yeah, we just fucking heard. Webster here told us.” Babe blabbed, so much for keeping it a secret. But Babe and Earl never made any promises to the man, only Lieb. 
Don answers the ringing phone, mumbling into it. He hangs up quickly, having more information to give us. “The PX rations just came in, including winter shoe packs.” Don informs us. 
“Beautiful.” Ramirez says sarcastically. 
“Yeah, finally right?” Don agrees. 
“Good of ‘em, now we’re in a nice warm house.” Lieb adds. 
“Also we get showers.” Don tells us. I gasp so loudly everyone stares at me. Pure delightment on my face. 
“We get showers!” I say excitedly. I feel like I can bounce off the walls. A shower sounds amazing. I make quiet screaming noises. I feel like a kid on christmas. Everyone watches me have my mini celebration. I stop mid party, “Sorry, I’m just really excited to have a shower.” 
“Yeah, no we can tell.” Lieb laughs at me, patting me on the head. 
“You’re so cute!” Babe teases trying to pinch my cheeks, I fend him off. Before he can reach me the distant sounds of explosions boom through the room. The sounds of whistling are closer, the sound of a bomb being dropped in close proximity. 
“All right, let's move! Clear it out! Move, move!” Don yells over the noise. We get to our feet, rushing out of the top room into the lower floors. Babe is behind me pushing me down the stairs faster than my feet can take me. We barge into the basement taking cover. Everyone yelling at everyone to get down, take cover, incoming. The bombs stop right as we reach the room. I laugh in disbelief of course it would stop right as we are safe. Everyone else had the same reaction, well except for Jones and Webster. They both looked like they were about to faint from shock.  
“Showers let’s go!” Don ushered us out. I was quickly on my feet, yes showers, omg I want to wash my hair, and body. Omg maybe shave my legs with running water.  
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miss-spookhead · 1 year
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okay look: this blog may be deader than a doornail, but by god am i going to revive it so i can ramble on about a steddie how to train your dragon au
now hear me out--Eddie, obviously, is hiccup. an eccentric, outcast underdog of the highest degree. he may not be looking to prove himself like hiccup is, but the idea still works. what really matters is that he's different. he doesn't fit into the mold of what a dragon-killing viking should be, and maybe he takes a lot of pride in it.
what he doesn't take a lot of pride in, however, is his absolutely mortifying crush on Steve Harrington, the local dragon-slaying overachiever, chief's son, and all around air-headed jock whose confident douchebaggery has Eddie reeling at the very idea that he very much is attracted to him.
besides his humiliating crush on Harrington, Eddie sets his sights on two things more productive: discovering whatever there is to know about the dragons his village is so obsessed with killing, and aiding his uncle Wayne's blacksmith shop. and Eddie loves wayne, odin's beard he does--he calls Eddie his fucking son--but the old man puts a lot of belief on his beanpole excuse of a viking nephew.
like, wayne looks Eddie in the eyes with those sad, tired eyes of his, calls him son, and asks him to carry on his life's work. and who is Eddie to say no to him? he likes building shit. he has an eye for the artistic. he'd give the whole world to that old man just to make him the slightest bit proud of him.
case in point: he's hauling an actual catapult to the top of an empty hill in the middle of the night so he can give one of his newest builds a little test run. launch a spare bola into the forest, why not.
so, once he heaves the bola into the mouth of the catapult (which does a real number to his pissant limbs), his eyes wander to the inky night sky above him. they trace the blinking stars, and he feels this odd calm wrap around him. he can't even place the last time he's felt this at peace before in his life. it's never been so quiet.
he dashes the thought once he sees a blot of black nothingness engulf the stars, bit by bit in quick succession. like a shadow soaring through the night sky. something is out there.
a fucking night fury.
"shit." Eddie's hand slips, and down goes the lever. out goes the bola.
"shit!" clearly, it hits. a bellowing roar echoes from the sky, and there's a great rustle and thud as the dragon makes impact with the forest's trees.
Eddie stumbles backwards in shock. his mind is racing, positively buzzing like a hive of bees in his head. he hit a night fury. like, actually shot it down from the sky. using one of the bola catapults that he built.
now, Eddie, non-conformist that he is, wouldn't usually want to brag about taking down a godsdamned night fury with his own catapult to the common viking, Harrington be damned, but this. this is a real achievement. he can hold something above his stupid head and his beautiful hair. his ego demanded it.
and even if he wanted to stay tight-lipped about the situation, wayne still has to know.
and come the morning, he's got to prove it somehow.
"can't son," wayne says gruffly. he lugs the axe head he's been diligently hammering on into a bucket of cold water at his feet, then looks at Eddie with those droopy eyes. "someone has to keep shop, and I ain't discouragin' you from your little..." he trails off, yanking the steel from the bucket, "adventures."
frigg bless his heart for at least encouraging Eddie's bullshit, even when he's not an active participant. and maybe that's the worst part of their relationship, Eddie thinks, that wayne would very gladly shoulder all that burden, all that extra work just so Eddie could..well...be himself.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, even when he knows his uncle is right, but wayne shakes his head. he's got a solemn look about him, worn and frayed on the edges. it shuts Eddie up real quickly.
it's a wordless agreement.
so, Eddie turns heel, ready to make his way to the forest, and promptly collides with Harrington. the asshole probably sidled up behind him to collect whatever weapon Wayne's making without even considering that his nephew was trying to goad him into seeing a night fury. which said nephew took down himself mind you.
whatever. asshole.
"odin's beard," Harrington huffs, running a hand through his, sigh, perfect hair, "do you ever watch where you're going, munson?"
"apologies for not making way for royalty, cheifling," Eddie snaps, and stomps off. he can practically feel Harrington's dumbfounded stare even when he's out of sight. chiefling. that's a good one.
what he really should be focusing on is the night fury in the forest. the forest that he's lost in. the night fury that he shot down that's in the forest that he's lost in.
jord help him.
"--and you really went and did it, Edward," Eddie mumbles to himself, tone manic. he digs the toes of his boots into the soil as he walks, "you hit a dragon and you fucking lose it. you do something right--then poof! gone into thin air!"
"classic. fucking. munson"-- he kicks a sizable pebble on the ground in frustration--"blunder!"
it makes impact with the trunk of a fallen tree.
no--the tree is snapped in half. like something heavy fell against it. like a dragon. like a night fury.
quickly, he stumbles over the broken tree, over a few rocks, and he finds the body of the night fury, bound at the legs by the launched bola.
it's still. dead still.
Eddie swallows, hand unsteadily reaching for the knife at his side.
the night fury is a stark black, sleek and scaly. Eddie imagines how smooth it would be if he slid grazed the dragons skin with his hand. atop its head is a smatter of grey spots, from the tip of its head to its snout. kind of like dust.
Eddie blinks.
it's so...fragile looking. and, gods, he fucking killed it.
"look at it," he whispers to himself, half in pride and half in utter, stomach churning despair. "look at what you've done."
breath caught in his throat, Eddie pokes the belly of the dragon with the toe of his boot, just to make sure.
its eyes shoot open, belly sucking in quickly as it takes a sharp breath. it's leg pushes against Eddie, shoving him backward onto his ass.
"shiiiiiiiit!" he chokes out, quickly bringing himself to his feet. his legs wobble like a newborn lamb, and he crowds his back against the rock behind him.
his stomach pools with fear, and obviously, he does what he does best--
Eddie's halfway through a pathetic attempt to climb over the rock to get the fuck out of there, when the night fury whimpers behind him. his head turns slowly, heart beating like war drums, and he finds the dragons eyes trained on him.
Eddie thinks he might die.
he slides down the rock, grunting as he lands on his feet, and he stalks carefully toward the beast. he's white-knuckling his knife as the night fury's eyes keep following him 'til he ends up at its feet.
chest heaving, Eddie raises the knife, and the night fury drops its head in defeat.
but Eddie resolves not to kill the dragon. instead, he takes the rope binding the night fury's wings and begins cutting it, putting a whole lot of elbow grease into the effort.
and when he's done, the dragon stirs, pushing Eddie to the ground with its front legs, the pressure almost crushing the bones of his shoulders into powder.
it roars, spittle landing all over his face, and Eddie screams in response. using his entire chest.
the night fury reels backwards in surprise, blinking rapidly, then staggers further into the forest, leaving Eddie in the dust.
Eddie's shaky hands meet his shoulders in an attempt to sooth the pain. the shock. the confusion of it all.
Eddie--he...he did something. something incredible. he built a bolas and shot it into the night sky and hit a night fury. something no other person has ever done. not even perfect Harrington and his perfect hair and his perfect resolve when slaying dragons.
he hit a night fury--black and spotty--and found it in the woods. near death.
and he freed it.
if he were Steve Harrington, would he have freed it? would he have felt a sliver of empathy for the creature, or would he follow in the footsteps of his father and put it out of his misery?
does Eddie even want to be like Harrington? no. he doesn't. not in a million godsdamned years. he may be beautiful and strong and capable, but Eddie is nothing like the chiefling. and he's proud of it.
Eddie stares out into the mess of trees in front of him, listens to the distant stomping.
without scooping up his knife, he turns and runs.
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