#and then it looked so empty on a blank space soooooo...

[lskamil27]

what a radiating smile!

#my art #illustration #fanart #fear and hunger termina #fear and hunger samarie #fear and hunger dysmorphia #tw body horror #horror #fear and hunger #f&h #f&h2 #samarie #i sketched out this samarie on sunday and really wanted to draw it #and then it looked so empty on a blank space soooooo... #teehee #i need to do more big pieces with the cast #this was so much fun... body horror my passion

[pixie-cocaine]

ATEEZ Reaction To: Having a wet dream about you

yourusernames: Omg can I request ATEEZ reaction to having a wet dream about their friend? (Who would start developing a crush, who would want to have a one night stand and who wouldn't care at all?) Thanks!!

A/N: These reactions are based solely off of what I think they’d do, I am in no way, shape or form, telling you that this IS how the members would handle this scenario. Like shit, I dunno the guys :/. This is a gender neutral reader reaction btw :)

(This is very explicit, you have been warned!!!)

Hongjoong ♡:

• It felt like the actual thing

• Your lips; sweet like pink lemonade and eyes staring into his with a soft sparkle that originated from his bedside lamp

• but what felt more real than anything was you

• Your scent, your taste

• Your touch...

• It was all overwhelming in the sense that he found himself breaking out of his dreaming state, breath heavy as if he’d been sprinting for hours, and a lusty sheen screening his mind from acting with any sense of rationality

• He was horny horny, dawg 💀

• I feel for that man, it’s tough...

• He could already tell that he had an...accident, before he pushed the duvet off his body due to registering the last couple twitches of his restricted cock in his shorts

• No wonder he could ‘feel’ everything so well

• He wasn’t able to sleep the rest of the night.

• Couldn’t help but begin to feel a crush blossom for you

• As y’all already know, the man gets attached to the ones he spends the most time with

• You’re no exception

• Would end up telling you about his feelings. It was eating him up inside to keep it to himself

Seonghwa ♡:

• He has no right looking this good, dawg. It literally makes me so mad lmao

• Lemme lick your face, I bet it tastes like expensive concealer and everything I’ll never have >:}

• Anywhore

• He felt feverish, even inside his dream

• It was odd; he could feel you, but he couldn’t feel you. He remembers the surreal sensation of warmth under his palms as he grabbed onto your bare ass whilst you bounced you on top of him, panting hard and clutching at his damp hair to pull his head back

• He groaned, and just as he went to switch positions, he was snapped out of his dream

• Was like “Fuckin pardon?” when he realised where he was; his empty bed, alone in his own room, no sign of you

• Frowned, pushing the covers off of him because dawg, he was heating up OwO

• Then realised the large wet spot at the front of his sweatpants

• “What the...”

• Was never the same™ 

• Everytime he saw you, he couldn’t help but feel that same heat in his hands, and he felt guilty about it. 

• Didn’t know how to approach you about it at all. What was he supposed to say?

• “I nutted in my pants because I dreamt about doing the dirty with you”

• Just wouldn’t bring it up

• Good chance he’d catch feelings. Seonghwa builds bonds with the people he knows, it’s very easy to tell that when he cares, and he would care dearly for you. Once the chance that anything intimate between you two arises, I’m sure he’d begin to think of you romantically once you’re shown in said light.

Yunho ♡:

• Now wouldn’t a flustered Yunho be a sight? Damn...

• He loved looking down at you

• The way you smiled at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling his bare chest into yours as you whispered how good he felt inside you, cooing out words of praise and encouragment 

• It was hazy, but he can still vaguely remember how you kissed him so sweetly. How your fingers smoothed his bangs away from his eyes, and how you moaned into his ear softly with each thrust

• It was only when you cupped his cheeks and spoke, did you break him out of his dream;

• “Wake up.”

• His eyes shot open

• Only a blue ceiling stared back

• “Mmm...?” Yunho sits up and rubs his eyes roughly, already aware of the blush that paints his cheeks and nose because he can feel the heat in his face

• Said ‘What the fawk 😃’ when his brain caught up with what he just experienced, as well as the stickiness that clung to his inner thighs when he moved to go get some water

• This bitch was contemplating his whole life after that

• Is ‘UwU’ with you from then on cuz a babie caught butterfwies ;(

• Rlly bad at hiding his feelings lol, you’d catch on eventually

Yeosang ♡:

• It was messy, to say the least

• Kitchen island sex? Yup :D

• The dream wasn’t at all put into play with any sense. You guys were just... in the kitchen, when you confessed your feelings and made a move on him

• A deep kiss mixed with the pounding of nervous hearts all put Yeosang in a fever outside of his dream

• “Say you like it,” You panted, using the hand on the back of his head to push his forehead against yours while the other kept you from laying onto the island

• “I like it.. Fuck, I like it”

• “Yeah?” His hips stutter when you clench your walls around him, and in turn, he lets out a choked-off gasp

• “Y一Oh my god一Yeah...”

• Damn... he was FEELING it lmao

• Funny thing is that he slept throughout the entire dream and woke up only when his foot did a little mid-sleep spasm

• Stared at the wall while frowning for soooooo fucking long

• Whole time he said ‘ya know wot, that’s real interesting 🤔’

• Then was like “Prolly just horny 😃. oh well, time to change my underwear”

• And that’s what he chalked it up to in the end. Would maybe make a joke about it to you next time y’all hung out if he’s feeling loose enough and doesn’t mull over it for too long

San ♡:

• HEATHEN

• Hold on, lemme get a half-assed feel for the man... yes... mm-hm... ah, I see... OK!

• So, from what I can tell, San would distance himself from you slightly. Maybe. 

• That night, as he lie in his bed, breath coming faster with each motion that went on in his head, he saw you in a way that he never thought would happen.

• Skin, slick with sweat and eyes like burning coals as they focused on him. There wasn’t much to remember before it was already fading, but he could still make out how much his stomach lept and spun, heart oh-so thunderous in his chest. Whatever you did with him in the dream... it sparked something inside him.

• San was in a daze as he woke up, his body not quite cooperating with him when he tried to sit up, and instead, falling limp with the next couple of attempts.

• WHEN I TELL YOU THE SOUL WAS SUCKED FROM THIS MAN AISDIUBFADEBI-

• Really just stared into space with the look of a dead man

• What did he do when he finally saw you again?

•  ✨ pretend he didn’t see shit ✨

• Not the masked uncomfort-

• Depending on whether you’re one for confrontation, he might just cave if you press him about his weird behavior enough, but be fast, because I’m sure he could push his feelings down succesfully if he tried hard enough.

Mingi ♡:

• Dude... the fucking happiness of the dream...

• Silly giggles when you’d accidentally bonk eachother while switching posititons, bright smiles when you stared at eachother after a long time, random compliments, and nothing too serious that you couldn’t find playfulness in. Even when you’d both stop smiling to let out small moans and feel the moment together, it was always lighthearted.

• FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK IM SO ANGRY-

• It was some shit you’d see at the sundance ;(

• Then he woke up-

• You were the first and only thing he thought about as he gained conciousness. He wanted you... you, you, you, just you.

• He’d never wanted anything so bad. A sudden longing that made a lump form in his throat and an overwhelming feeling of how much he’s always wanted you.

• So, like Mingi does, he strived for that goal >:D

• He made an effort to see you as many times as he could and whenever you were free to hang out. And finally, one night when you both lie in his bed and gazed thoughtlessly at the ceiling, he told you.

• “I had a dream about you, you know.”

Not me basically making a summary of a could-be fic-

Wooyoung ♡:

• Now believe it or not, this bitch is hard for me to get a grasp on. All I can say with confidence is that he has the sex appeal of a milf stripper and is kinda stubborn-

• Hmm.... bothered.

• That is the feeling it would pull from him.

• Hungry; frequent patterns of warm breath against sweat-slicked skin, mumbled curses past wet lips, nails dug into his stomach deep enough to draw blood yet barely acknowledged through animalistic films over both your eyes, and teeth furrowed into the flesh of his shoulder as you scratched at the blank canvas of his back.

• It was all raw sexual aggression from both sides. So much so, that you both practically fought during it.

“I hate you. I hate you like you don’t even know, Wooyoung,” You speak, breathless, and reach up to weave both fists into his hair, “I love you so much that I fucking... hate you.”

• Then...

• Gone.

• Just like that, the dream was replaced with the sight of familiar bedroom walls as Wooyoung opened his eyes, a sigh escaping past his lips when he finally pieced things together.

• “As if I wasn’t already stressed enough...,” He murmurs, staring down at the new stain on his sweatpants.

• From that point on, it’s a new habit for Wooyoung to catch sight of you and keep his gaze there; just staring when you’re not looking, and feeling terrible afterwards. He feels like he violated you somehow, and with that ball of dread in his stomach whenever he sees you, he becomes distant.

• It’s not catching feelings so much as it is a new desire.

Jongho ♡:

• Jongho, Jongho, Jongho... whatever will we do with you?

• Upfront about it, surprisingly.

• He caught feelings. How could he not when you’re one of the most breath-taking people he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing?

• That face of yours, along with your voice so soft and encouraging in his ears, was enough for him to cave.

• “Just like that, baby... Just like that.”

• He doesn’t even remember the details of the dream. Just your words and kisses, which still make the touched skin of his body heat with excitement whilst he blinks down at his hands.

• He clenches them; one, twice, then lets them fall back to his sides. He doesn’t need to look into his pants to know that he’s soiled himself.

• He feels kinda... empty? After the dream. Lmao just as exhausted as San was, really, but both at the fluttering his heart when he thinks of you, and the dream itself, so cleans himself up real quick before going back to sleep. 

• The fluttering doesn’t go away the next morning.

• So... he tells you :D

• As soon as you walk through the door, holding a bag of snacks and drinks for preparation to crash at Jongho’s apartment for a little bit, he sits you down on the couch, much to your confusion at the serious face he has.

• “I know that this kind of thing can ruin friendships and I don’t want that. At all. But, I had a... dream, about you last night and now I can’t really stop thinking about you...”

• Not the pounding of his heart making him dizzy :*

#ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #Smut #kpop reactions #idol reactions #idol reader

[incarnateirony]

That last ask was so... condescending I cannot believe it was made in good faith. Like "oh this little obscure show you like and devote your whole blog to analyze? It is known trash and you cannot like it seriously. But it's totally alright if you like it because of your feelings *pats you in the head*. You'll understand when you grow up."

They really are trying to "catch you on a lie", piss you off and then... IDK, look good because they seem soooooo mature and collected in their asks and emotions are childish???? When will they learn that a pissed off Min has exactly the same amount of lit crit knowledge and the exact same ability to convey it than a calm Min?

Yeah pretty much. I’ve literally already answered these points and even broken down the dividing point being, essentially, people who lost open/blank/empty space in the text once present in the early seasons when the characters were mostly archetyes fandom could use as barbie dolls vs incredibly dense text and people who understand how to look at text critically. I just don’t remember what I tagged that post but it’s out there somewhere. It’s also why, for example, season 7 felt so hollow after S4-5. 4-5 wasn’t nearly the level of text complexity of the later years like in dabb era, but it was definitely more nuanced than S1-3 but then you get the very VERY heavy demographic split on who likes/hates 7. It’s like 95% vector overlap with “people who prefer S1-3 the best” vs “people who prefer later seasons”. Then point back to the early archetypes/caricatures point.

[purplellamanator]

Soooooo if it's no trouble for you, Shinran for Arranged Marriage AU Modern?

A/N~ Of course it's no trouble!!! And I am so sorry! I know you sent this in like forever ago and have likely forgotten about it! I hope you enjoy though!

Modern~ Person A's family is in debt. Person B is the debt collector but asks for marriage instead.

oOo

This was definitely not how Ran envisioned getting engaged. She'd argue that every girl daydreamed about their wedding at least once in their life and Ran was no different.

She always thought she'd go off to college and meet some nice boy. They would start out as friends first and then they'd slowly move on to actual dates. Ran would bring him to meet her parents and her father would actually approve of him. Her mother would be best friends with her boyfriend's. And then said boyfriend would propose and they'd have a gigantic wedding with a huge cake, big dress, and every relative she could think of would be in attendance.

Sadly, those were all just dreams. Things she imagined when she had a crush or ideas that spurred when she was engrossed in an especially romantic novel. Of course as she grew older her expectations sort of mellowed out. She definitely still wanted the traditionally grand ceremony but she had to add a tad of reality to it.

Standing in a soft pink dress that could barely even be considered business casual as she watched her fiance sign his name on the marriage certificate, Ran took the time to let her gaze wander. Taking in the blandly colored walls of the courtroom was as far as she could get without wanting to cry. That and her fiance was already straightening before angling the pen to her expectantly.

She hesitated. She knew he saw it but Ran couldn't help it. Just like she couldn't conceal the small look of disdain she gave the pen he was trying to hand to her. Her movements slow, she accepted the offering. Her fiance's shoulders sagging in what looked like relief made her think he half expected her to refuse to sign.

It was tempting. But she already argued it was time to face reality. And staring at the paper on the stand before her, she paused again. Ran hoped it appeared like she was just reading over the document but really, she was just trying to delay the inevitable. Her eyes remained unseeingly on the still blank line where her signature was supposed to go.

Ran thought she'd be sick. She didn't think she could do this. There wouldn't be any turning back once she put her name on that paper. Not only was it the contract of their marriage, it would also serve as the contract for the agreement they had come to.

If she signed this certificate, her father's debt would be repaid. If she did this her parents would at least have a chance at restarting their life. Granted she wouldn't be apart of it as much but the point was that they'd have it.

But still, Ran couldn't help but hesitate. She could play it off and lie to herself. She could put the blame on the fact she was scared. It was not much to go on but she was by no means the first arranged marriage. And they very rarely ended happily. The documentaries that were borderline like horror stories to her that she used to always watch on crime shows, were evidence of that. And again, even if that was a very plausible excuse, she knew it wasn't the truthful one. The real one wasn't even because she was disappointed in Kudou-san's looks. Selfishly, her mind flickered to the three tiered cake and the gorgeous chapel.

Swallowing hard she knew she'd have to let go. She'd have to let go of that daydream. She had to come to terms that this was her reality.

So silencing her screaming thoughts as best she could, Ran signed her name.

oOo

Ran didn't know exactly what her expectations had been one she moved in with her . . husband? She didn't really like referring to him like that though. It felt odd to call him anything else but his surname. Especially when he didn't even treat her like she was his wife. Again, Ran didn't really know what to expect but having her own bedroom wasn't one of them.

Of course she wasn't complaining. It was just. . . a surprise. . Ran may of never dated before but she had heard of wifely duties before. Not that she liked to call them that but that was honestly what it would be. There was no benefit to this marriage for her specifically and logically she had to assume that would be one of the things Kudou-san asked of her.

None of the talks she had with her mother the night before all of this would've ever prepared her for what did happen. And that was nothing. Nothing happened. They arrived at what he liked to call a house but to her and the average citizen, was a mansion. He helped her carry her one bag into the house while giving her a brief explanation of where everything was. And then he had shown her to her room and promptly turned around and walked out the door- her door.

Not wanting to lower her guard too soon, she half expected him to come into her room at night. Which he didn't. He didn't do anything with her. He didn't really talk to her in general and as the days passed by she realized he never was. And Ran didn't know what to do with that. She couldn't fathom why he would ask for her hand in marriage if he didn't even want that from her. This had all been his idea after all and to just completely ignore her, Ran didn't understand what exactly her purpose was in all of this.

The house- it frightened her quite a bit in the beginning. It was so massive and felt so empty. It was so quiet that sometimes all she could hear were the pipes in the walls and the house settling. Sometimes when it felt like it was so still that her ears would start ringing, she'd have to plug in her headphones. It was only when she finally gained the courage to leave her bedroom that she realized just why it was so quiet.

Kudou-san was hardly ever in the house. The first few days she was still paranoid and would outright look for him. She didn't want to be startled by him suddenly reprimanding her for wandering around wherever she pleased. But after she had the bright idea to just check for his car in the driveway, more often than not, it was not there. With that, she also learned when to expect him. The sound of his front gate opening would alert her most of the time after she had already eaten dinner. And like the coward she was, she'd take that as her cue it was time for bed.

So it was safe to say that her husband was a very busy person and honestly, she didn't feel the need to find out what for. It was probably for the better that he was more occupied with work rather than her. She didn't like being alone and missed her friends and family terribly. But here in this new home with her. . husband, she didn't know what the alternative would be if she disrupted this set routine with him. Besides, he didn't sound like he wanted anything to do with her anyway. And since he was the one that asked for this engagement, she'd argue that it was up to him to reach out first. And since that never happened one could probably imagine how much time she had on her hands.

It wasn't long before she finally took it upon herself to make a list of duties that she needed to do. If she sat in this house all day and did absolutely nothing but listen to music and read, she'd lose her mind. So she swept the floors and mopped them. She wiped down all of the windows and cleaned out his fridge. She even dusted his entire library which was ridiculous because who even had a library in their house? Still, ignoring that, she did it.

The chores she gave herself were boring and tedious. They were often long jobs that were unusually strenuous but honestly, that's what she preferred. Anything to take her mind off her current situation- or lack there of. Everyday she would come up with something new though. His 'house' was massive and really, she was cleaning a different room on each day. That's how she discovered where most things were anyway. Admittedly he had told her briefly when he was helping her move in but she'd also admit she hadn't been paying attention. Ran hadn't been expecting her marriage to be so . . . quiet. At the time she had been preparing herself for the worst mentally.

Now, and though she wasn't necessarily at ease, she was calm enough to actually breathe properly. This was how she discovered his library. She found the laundry room so she could finally do a load of clothes. Ran even discovered he had an office. It looked like he usually spent his time in there though she quickly left. She highly doubted he would be pleased if he found her in there. Likely he'd assume she was snooping.

Since Kudou-san was rarely home however, it was difficult to guess what areas of his house were off limits. His room of course would've been a given. But everything looked so untouched; like the house was barely lived in.

That was the excuse she would give when explaining how she mistakenly stumbled in there. She was being honest when she said it wasn't for a good few minutes till she realized where she was at. The room was massive like everything in this house. But much like the guest rooms, the walls were barren. There weren't pictures on the walls or items on the shelves. It didn't look lived in to say the least. It wasn't till she finally set her eyes on the bed and took notice of how the sheets were thrown to the side and unkempt.

Like someone had been sleeping there.

Feeling her heart lodge in throat, she quickly took some steps back before going to leave. And stumbling over herself she ran right into something. From her surprise and shock, her hands had come up to brace her fall. That was when she really realized what she ran into.

It was a chest. A beating, warm, and very firm chest.

Hands jerking back to her sides, she quickly moved a pace away from him to give both of them some space. She knew before looking that it was Kudou-san. They were the only two that lived here after all. She was usually pretty good at sneaking back to her room before he came home but it honestly wasn't that late into the day yet. He was earlier than usual.

"Did you-?"

Before he could even finish his sentence she was cutting him off.

"I'm sorry!" she said hurriedly holding her hands up defensively. "I didn't realize this was your room until I saw the bed! I was only trying to clean up a little!" Ran prayed that her words sounded believable. The last thing she wanted was for her husband to think she was digging through his things. It was such an invasion of privacy already and she hoped he could tell how apologetic she was.  

Kudou-san didn't appear to be angry though. If anything, he looked a little confused. "You know this is your house too. . . . right?" he asked her slowly while giving her a pointed look. A look that she understood now was asking why she was apologizing. When her eyes suddenly watered a bit, he suddenly looked frustrated. Shaking his head, he turned around and went to leave his own room. "You can go wherever you'd like," he threw over his shoulder and some of that irritation leaked into his voice.    

It was only once he left that she realized she was actually shaking. She knew she had been nervous well before her eyes began to fill with tears. But she hadn't noticed just how scared she actually was of his response. Kudou-san didn't look like the violent type but looks could be deceiving. And though they were married she didn't really know him or what he was capable of. Hand coming to rest over her heart in attempt to soothe it, she took deep breaths.

Maybe he noticed her reaction before she did herself. He seemed angrier about that than her standing in his bedroom without permission.

oOo

Though she actually had his permission to go wherever she pleased, it didn't mean Ran took advantage of it. Going into his bedroom had been an accident. She didn't want it to seem like it had been anything but that.

But she did try to come out of her room more often. She stopped hiding out any time she saw his car pull through the gate out front. She stopped trying to plan her sporadic dashes to the kitchen when he was home. Ran stopped trying to dance around him.

They still didn't really talk. He at least acknowledged her which arguably, if she had come out sooner he would've done that before. And the mansion didn't feel like a home to her yet by any means, but at least she could actually walk around without her veins thrumming with adrenaline as if she were in some horror movie.

She finally started cooking again. It was something she had to do when living with her parents but had soon turned into a hobby for her. Ran was often told she was good at it and it made her feel better, so she enjoyed it. And though he never asked her to, she always made enough for him. Pulling the trash as part of her chores she took upon herself, it was impossible for her not to notice all the takeout bins. She was pretty sure that was what he ate all the time and she couldn't help but be appalled. Fast food was fine and all occasionally- occasionally being the key word.

Technically even though it didn't feel like it, she was his wife. Wasn't it normal to cook food for your husband? That and he erased her father's debt- but she liked the first excuse better. Ran didn't really know much about the reasoning circling around her father's debt. She had only been given an offer to get rid of it so of course she accepted wholeheartedly. And she would never want Kudou-san to go back on his word.

So she made him dinner. It wasn't like she left a mess. She always cleaned up after herself and would simply leave it in a rubber-maid container on the kitchen island for him to notice right away. That and she left him a note. It didn't say anything extensive. All she did was write his name so that he knew it was in fact for him. She didn't want him to think she left it out by mistake.

The first time she did it for him though, her mind had immediately regretted it. It wasn't till she was sitting in her room that first night that she took the time to think about how forward of her that was. She had no idea what Kudou-san liked to eat anyway. He very well could just throw it out. And what was she thinking leaving him a note like that? That was something she had seen her mother do for her father on the rare occasion that the woman attempted to prepare anything for him. But those notes were usually tagged with a heart. Something far more intimate than what she had in mind.

Suddenly her anxiety hit the roof. The implication of what she just did had her face engulfed in heat. Just when her second thoughts were getting the best of her she was going to put the food away herself, she noticed the headlights of his car as it pulled into the gate. It had been too late and like the coward she was, she she didn't dare to leave her room again for the rest of night. She even turned off her lights and got into bed on the off chance that Kudou-san did come looking for her.

He didn't. He hadn't even come anywhere near her door. He had them on the same floor but on completely opposite sides of the house, she had learned the other day from her little accident. It relieved her that he didn't come knocking though. Ran had been preparing an excuse for why she made him dinner until it became glaringly obvious that he wasn't going to ask. More at ease now, that's what began her routine of making him his afternoon meal. And he never had a word that was gratitude nor a complaint to give. At that point she expected him to forget about it.

Upon waking up to get breakfast a few days later however, she noticed that Kudou-san obviously hadn't forgotten it. There was a box on the kitchen island, on the spot she generally left his dinner. As she got closer she realized it was a cell phone still in it's packaging. And like what she had left him, it came with a note on the top only saying her name.

At first Ran didn't know what to do with it. She was mostly shocked by the obvious gift Kudou-san had left her. The obviously expensive gift. But even more obvious from why she married him, she knew that buying a brand new phone wouldn't even make a dent in his finances. Still, normally Ran would've been uncomfortable accepting such a gift. But she also recognized this as a way for him to pay her back for making him his meals. To not accept it would be incredibly rude and she knew she'd offend him.

The first person she called was her mother. Admittedly she wanted to speak with her father instead but apparently he had been out. Still she was ecstatic to get a hello from anybody and her mom was just as thankful to finally hear from her. Leaving out why exactly her husband bought her the phone, she explained that it was Kudou-san who had given it to her. And though it was a talk she didn't really want to revisit with her mother, she knew the woman would be concerned if she didn't bring it up.

"Kudou-san is. . . kind," she finally settled on that. They rarely interacted but off the sparse times they did, that's the impression she got from him.

"Ran." Her mother's tone was sharp and warning and it had her tensing in her seat. "People like him never give something for nothing; not when they can put a price on everything. Never forget that."

Ran knew what her mom was trying to tell her then. To get her head out of the clouds and come back to that reality she was always trying to escape. That eventually Kudou-san would expect something from her in return. And though she still wanted to stand by her comment that her husband wasn't really all that bad, she couldn't argue. Because her mother was right. The gift that had seemed so generous only came to her because she had done something kind in return. It was a response to her.

But still, and thinking back, she was reminded of his response when she had been terrified of being caught in his bedroom. He had been irritated, yes- but only because she clearly expected that. And that told her enough. That he didn't want her to have an ill opinion of him. And if he cared about what she thought of him, then that must've meant- to some extent, that he cared about her.

#dcmk #shinran #dcmk fanfic #shinran fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #shinichi kudo #ran mouri #asks #drabbles #prompts #requests

[pinballwitxh]

the mentees - part 1 (eggsy unwin x oc)

summary: a seasoned kingsman agent witnesses eggsy’s last test and sends him off with some advice. budding feelings between the two are even more intense as both witness the death of harry hart and turn to each other for comfort.

warnings: just a sh*t ton of violence and cussing cause, ya know, this is kingsman.

honestly i’m not sure how this will turn out but i love the church scene so much and i love eggsy so this will be my experiment phase with writing for him! def into harry hart as daddy too soooooo that will def be coming up in my master list soon. enjoy! also I super apologize for weird spacing and shit cause idk tumblr is weird w the phone sometimes.

The agent stared down at the computer screen with brows furrowed and hands gripping the armrests, “Come on, Eggsy, it’s just a blank. . .”

The recruit held his stance in front of JB, his beloved pug, gun pointed and ready. She could see the struggle in his eyes and it made her so frustrated that he wouldn’t just do it. The dogs had become close companions to the recruits, that was part of the idea behind owning a dog in the agency. This was probably one of the hardest tests out of them all, she had decided after passing it herself.

On the other monitor stood Roxy before her own poodle, gun aimed and ready.

She pulled the trigger and visibly the tension in her shoulders released. Merlin was congratulating her with a pat on the back, whereas Eggsy was still rigid and aiming. Arthur was growing very obviously impatient and she knew that Eggsy would not be able to do it.

In the end, he had the biggest heart of them all.

This proved to be true as he handed the gun back to Arthur, head down and ashamed. She watched as he scooped JB up into his arms and left the room quietly. Immediately she was running out of the room and met Eggsy at the bottom of the grand staircase.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” he snapped, “What a bullshit place this is-”

“Why would you even say that? You trained so hard, Eggsy, and you gave it all up for-”

“My fucking dog? Yeah, I did so why don’t you just leave me the hell alone and go back to your posh suits and fancy cars and forget all about me?”

‘I’d never want to forget about you, Eggsy Unwin.’

For a moment she was silent and shocked, the two had become such good friends and she would be lying if she said those words had not hurt. Agents were not supposed to have any romantic relationships, even close friendships like the one they had was hard to navigate in the agency. Eggsy pulled JB protectively close to his chest and looked down at his feet.

“That isn’t what I meant, Eggsy, you could be so great here,” she paused and placed a tender hand on his arm, “I think you might change your mind if you talk to Harry.”

The feeling of his warm skin beneath her hand felt like electricity. She had felt this way around Eggsy several times leading up to this moment, but it was so intense.

“I’m packin’ my things and goin’ home, ain’t nowhere else for me to go and I am not talking to that fucker.”

She shoved him, “Don’t talk about Harry like that, he got you here!”

“And I obviously wasn’t meant for it, so I’m not going to disappoint ‘im any more,” he began to walk away but before exiting, he turned back to her, “Y’know, you ain’t so bad,”

She crossed her arms, “Well thanks,”

He smirked, “Maybe I’ll see ya ‘round, luv?”

“That’s up to you, Eggsy.”

‘Please don’t leave.’

He nodded once more and turned to leave, reluctantly, and her heart plummeted. Once his figure disappeared from the sunlight she sighed and headed back towards the office. Merlin greeted her with a pained look on his face, he knew Eggsy hadn’t passed and it had disappointed him somewhat, as well. Though, he would never admit it, the boy had grown on him.

She was going to miss that cheeky bastard, no doubt. They’d shared some not-so-subtle glances and flirty comments with one another during his time there.

There were the secret winks he’d shoot her way, the way his eyes roamed her body when she wore a skirt, his smug smiles when she praised his work, but most of all the way he listened to her and drank in every word. In the end Eggsy would have to admit that her advice had turned out to be some of the best he’d received during his time at Kingsman.

She smiled at Merlin, “Roxy will do wonderful here, Merlin.”

He nodded, “I think she will too, good to get some females in the agency.”

She laughed, “Now I have someone to gossip and have lunch with that I can really tolerate!”

“Oh, come on now, I’m always down for a good gossipin’ sesh, yeah?”

“Considering your job allows you to attain private information, your gossip is the absolute best, Merlin.”

A few hours later Merlin received a call from Harry to reroute the Kingsman cab that Eggsy had stolen (which caused her to roll her eyes so far that it hurt.) She stood behind the computer-genius as he directed the cab to lock Eggsy in and drive itself to Harry’s house. Eggsy was obviously very mad, “Come on, bruv! He hit my fucking mum!”

She gasped quietly to herself and turned to Merlin, “Anything we can do about that?”

“I’m sure we can take care of it once Harry has talked some sense into him,”

For another hour Eggsy and Harry discussed everything and to say Eggsy felt horribly embarrassed was an understatement. She had been right, talking to Harry made everything come to light and make sense. Mr. Pickle seemed to bore holes into the side of his head the entire time, reminding him of what he had failed to do.

A high-pitched beep interrupted the two agents as they sat in the office, breaking the silence. Merlin leaned forward and beckoned her over on the other office chair, “Got a signal coming from. . .Kentucky?”

“Valentine’s?”

“Sure is,” he paused and hit another button to dial Harry’s contact, “Harry, listen to this. Valentine’s at last saying something of note.”

The four agents listened in separately to the conversation between Valentine and Gazelle. A location was discovered and immediately Harry was on his feet and ready to come back to headquarters. She briefly caught a glimpse of Eggsy through Harry’s glasses and smiled to herself, he had definitely calmed down and profusely apologized to Harry as he gathered his things.

“Harry, I’m so sorry and I’m gonna do everything-”

“You should be,” she smiled at Harry’s blunt retort, “You just stay right there, I’ll sort this mess out when we get back.”

“We’ll meet you at the air-strip, Galahad,” Merlin said before he hung up.

“Agent Percival, gather your things together as well,” Harry said before abruptly hanging up.

Her heart jumped at the mention of her going out into the field, it always did when she was asked to go. Especially since Harry had been her mentor, and still was, she enjoyed working with him.

Soon they were enroute to Kentucky via the private jet the agency owned. Merlin debriefed both of them once again on the information they had. While they were unsure about Valentine’s intentions, Harry reiterated that it was necessary they be on guard and ready to fight.

Agent Percival made sure that all of her hidden weapons and gadgets were working and ready before exiting the plane. Once on their way to the church, Harry went over the plan they had discussed once more. She was ready to figure out Valentine’s motives and put an end to whatever he was planning on doing.

“How is Eggsy?”

Harry quirked a brow at her, “It will take some time, but I think he’ll come back around and be joining us.”

She smiled, “He’d do so well with us, Harry, and I know you know that.”

“Of course I do, he’s just like his father,” he turned to her, “Don’t forget the rules, Agent Percival.”

Her face heated up and she turned to him, “What on earth do you mean by that?”

“You know very well what I mean by that,” he said as he placed his hands on his knee, “There’s certainly no secrets between you two and the rest of the agency.”

She looked down and tried to hide her tinted cheeks, “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

There was a silence before Harry chuckled, “He’s very loyal, you know?”

She smiled to herself, “Good quality of a qualified Kingsman,”

“Indeed,” Harry hummed to himself.

Just before they arrived she turned to him, “Thanks for teaching me everything, Galahad.”

He nodded, “You haven’t let me down, Percival, although I never doubted you or your abilities.”

It was silent then as they approached, churchgoers entering the sermon five minutes before it was scheduled to start. Stepping out of the car she smoothed down her blazer and tailored pants before taking Harry’s arm on the other side. They entered the church together and looked around for empty seats.

Unfortunately they had to sit on opposite sides of the pew since it was so full already. Soon after they sat down a small worship service began which soon turned into a rather nasty and bigoted sermon from the preacher. Percival tried not to show the disgust on her face and instead played with the buttons of her purple blazer.

“Charming sermon, can you see Valentine anywhere?” Merlin’s voice echoed in her ears.

From the corner of her eye she saw Harry’s gaze focused somewhere in the corner of the small church. Indeed, there was a small camera placed above them.

The sermon dragged on and honestly, she was bored. Valentine wasn’t showing up and nothing was happening, it seemed like a useless mission. Harry seemed to think the same thing as he sent her a quick nod from his seat.

Harry stood to leave, Percival deciding to wait about two more minutes before she also left so as not to cause a big distraction.

However, a woman next to Harry was rather peeved that he was ready to leave.

“Hey, what’s your problem?”

Every eye turned to Harry and the preacher paused in his sermon, eyeing Harry with hate.

Percival had to contain her laughter as Harry turned back to the woman and curtly responded, “I’m a Catholic whore currently enjoying congress out of wedlock with my black, Jewish boyfriend who works in a military abortion clinic. So, hail Satan, and have a lovely afternoon, madam.”

The look of pure shock on her face made Percival want to laugh even harder, so she turned back to the front of the church and regained composure in her seat.

Just before Harry reached the door the woman cried out, “Just leave this church! You just leave this church like the infidel you are!”

Percival twitched a little, a high-pitched ringing filling her ears for a split moment. She shook her head to clear the sharp pain out of her head and once her eyes refocused, something was very different.

“Satan cannot save you now! You will eat your babies! You will drown in the blood of the Lord! He will not save you!”

The entirety of the congregation was standing with fists clenched and glared at Harry. Percival stood as well in order to blend in, but she couldn’t shake the slight ringing that was still in her ears.

She ducked her head out into the aisle, “We need to leave, now,” she whispered to Merlin and Harry through her comm.

Something else made her twitch again and without any control, she began to see red and was absolutely angry. Her fingers curled around the gun inside her blazer pocket and hooked onto the trigger.

She turned just in time to see Harry shoot the woman point-blank in the head. Hell was unleashed upon all of them, then.

Before the person next to her could strike her down she whipped around and shot a bullet into their head. Blood spattered and stained her dress clothes but she wasn’t concerned in the slightest.

For what felt like hours, her head was in a blur of blood and combat. Anyone who crossed her path was dead and every person around her was savagely doing the same thing. Being trained in combat by the Kingsman has given her the ultimate upper hand.

The number of innocent people had dwindled and after being thrown against a splintered pew she met Harry’s eyes. He charged her and she fought back with all the strength she could muster.

While fighting each other they managed to kill the last remaining people as well. She took hold of a broken candlestick and charged at her mentor, who easily blocked her. They pushed and shoved, punched each other mercilessly and attempted to take one another out.

“STOP! YOU’RE GOING TO KILL EACH OTHER!”

They ignored Merlin’s pleas and finally Harry had her in a headlock. She growled and slipped out of his hold, elbowing him sharply in the nose. She smiled at the loud cry he made and the feeling of the bone crunching under her elbow. Just as she turned to finish him off he blindsided her with a pipe from the organ.

Everything went black and she fell to the ground with a painful thud.

Harry stood over his agent and trembled with confusion, the frenzy in his mind was gone and all he could remember was the pure desire he had to kill every single person in that room. As quick as it was there it was suddenly gone. The girl beneath him groaned quietly and sat up slowly, the left side of her face blackened with a nasty gash running through her cheek.

Her voice trembled, “W-what happened?”

Harry quickly helped her up and ordered her to stay low, pulling her towards the back of the church and under some fallen pews.

“I need you to stay here, I’m going to secure the area outside.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” she responded as she tried to stand, dizziness taking her over immediately.

“That’s an order, Percival,” he said as he pushed her back to the ground. His eyes were kind and she knew he had good intentions by keeping her there, but she felt utterly useless.

Harry stepped outside and once the doors slammed shut, she hesitantly made her way over the absolutely mangled and bloodied bodies to the front of the church. Peering out a broken window she watched the confrontation between Valentine and her mentor. She couldn’t quite hear what they were saying as focusing seemed to increase her migraine even more.

She didn’t miss when Valentine whipped out a gun and shot Harry without warning.

She clamped her hand over her mouth and sank back against the wall, tears streaming down her face and screams threatening to come out. He had just been shot point-blank in the face.

The world was silent for what felt like infinity before Merlin’s voice came into her ears, “You need to leave right now, out the back behind the dumpster-“

“And we’re just going to fucking leave Harry’s body? Absolutely-“

“There is no time, Percival!”

In her attempt to stand she fell back to the floor, broken glass piercing her palms. With what little strength she had left, she crawled outside the doors and limped to Harry’s side.

She sobbed over his body and could not bring herself to look him in the eyes, well, the one that was left. Strong arms wrapped themselves around her torso and she struggled against their hold.

Merlin flipped her so he was cradling her to his chest. She beat into him mercilessly and attempted to turn him around to at least retrieve his body, but to no avail.

Eggsy leaned back in Harry’s chair, tears streaming down his face and pure hatred growing inside his chest.

To see her so broken like that, to see the closest thing to a father he ever had shot dead, to sit in that empty house knowing he would not return killed him inside.

THE MASTERLIST | GO TO PART 2

#eggsyunwin #imagine #kingsman #harryhart #merlin #galahad #lancelot #fanfiction #taronegerton #colinfirth #eggsy unwin imagine #eggsy unwin #harry hart #taron egerton #colin firth

[theolddarkmachine]

Kingdom- Chapter Eleven

Gajeel has had the dream about dying for the blue haired girl for as long as he can remember. Which is weird, since he’s never met anyone with blue hair in his life.

Levy has always loved myths and legends. So much so, in fact, that she was currently getting her master’s in mythological studies.

What neither of them realized was that they were living a legend all their own.

AKA the one with a knight, a princess, and a curse that keeps bringing them together just to pull them apart.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

AO3

I don't really have any notes on this one other than we be getting answers, ya know? This one and the next one titled once upon a death haha go off sis should answer what you need to know and uh, hopefully make things super climatic and awesome. I mean, that's the plan anyway lol Soooooo, enjoy :)

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The dull throb of pain led Levy from the depths of the pitch black sleep she had found herself mired in. Fighting against its hold and gasping around a thick rope twining around her throat, the ache blossomed into a white hot light that seared through her bones, branded her skin and blinded her eyes as she finally opened them. A momentary blindness stole her vision as her eyes adjusted to the light of the room as she tried to push herself upward, only to find rope biting into her wrists and ankles. Pushed between her teeth, was a thick cloth that muffled her short sound of surprise, and almost made her choke around the dryness that had dusted the back of her tongue.

Fear and adrenaline rushed through her veins, the dual beat of their rhythmic pulses deafening her in the otherwise silent room.

This isn’t right, she thought desperately as she began to shift her eyes around the room in search of any sign of where she was. I shouldn’t be here. I should be—

Where?

Frantically, her mind picked at the shrapnel of memory scattered across her mind’s surface in search of any clues, only to find blank pieces of slate. Where was she meant to be?

Where had she even been before this?

What had happened to her?

Another muffled sound escaped around the cloth that bit into the corners of her mouth where it wrapped around the sides of her face and behind her head. No matter how hard she reached for an answer, she was met by nothing but darkness in the space of her own memories.

Shuffling on her side until she was able to push herself up against the wall at her back, she pressed into the hard surface in a vain attempt to steady herself as her eyes began to wander over the room before her. It was a sparse area, with nothing more than the soft light of twilight glowing throw the slats of the closed shutters scattering rays across the wood of the floor. No furniture stood in the center of it, leaving the space open aside from a thick layer of dust, yet something about it all felt familiar.

As her eyes adjusted to the light of the room, they continued to search for anything as she tried to swallow down the acrid taste of panic around the saliva soaked cloth.

Then she saw it.

A single darkened bloom of color just below the windowsill that stilled her breath. One small and poorly drawn daisy with too few petals and an angled stalk.

Levy had never been much of an artist, but at the tender age of five, she had picked up an array of brightly colored crayons with the goal of decorating the light yellow walls. She had only managed one floret before her mother caught her and quickly pointed her to a piece of paper that needed the decoration a bit more than the once pristine wall.

“It’s the only flower I can’t kill,” her mother had laughed when Levy had asked years later why she had never tried to cover it or clean it off.

Ice floated through her veins, its sharp edges cutting deep down into her marrow as her heart began to crash around wildly within her chest.

She was in her old home.

The very same home that had held some of her most precious memories.

The same home that she had left after her mother’s death with no intent on ever coming back, if only because the very sight of it pushed a dagger in between her ribs.

The home that had been given to her aunt in her mother’s will.

“You are quite the sleeping beauty, aren’t you?” A cold voice cleaved through the silence as Kearia’s heels clicked against the hardwood floors, bringing her through the doorway and into the room. Across her face was a smile curved like a scythe, cutting through to Levy’s core when she turned its full force on her.

In the dim light, all the sharp planes of her face were accented with long shadows, turning her into something not quite human as she continued towards her.

A quick glint of twilight exposed the understated blade that Kearia had lightly balanced within her grasp, the metal of it turning from a bright silver to a warm orange with the light. Crouching before Levy, she brought the dagger upwards until its cool tip touched the skin of her jaw before she carefully dragged it against the bone. It was a threat weighted enough for her to feel it, but not enough to break skin.

Yet.

“Wait, no. That’s not quite the right story, is it?” She purred as her mauve stare traced over the lines of Levy’s face as if she was trying to memorize it. The blade rolled off the tip of her chin before she raised it again, this time settling it against her cheek. Everything within her screamed for her to get away as Levy struggled against the ropes once more, the sudden movement dragging her skin across the sharp edge of the knife.

A wet warmth began to roll down her cheek slowly as she returned her aunt’s prying gaze, her brows pulling together in question as the cloth strangled the words that would voice it.

“Isn’t fate funny?” Kearia asked as she pulled the dagger back, balancing her elbow on her knee as she began to inspect the blood that painted the silver a deep scarlet. “Handing you everything you needed to know tucked inside a book of fairy tales.”

Eyes flicking back to her captive, Levy found herself frozen as her aunt reached towards her slowly, her fingers smoothing over her unmarked cheek before they hooked into the fabric that was tied through her mouth. With a tug, she pulled it free of her lips and let the wet fabric fall around Levy’s neck.

“Hello, darling,” she crooned as she sat back on her haunches, both arms bracing against the tops of her thighs. “I’m sure you have plenty of questions. You are always an inquisitive one.”

In the distance she could hear those words echoed from another time, from another life, and suddenly, she was reminded of the dream. The one that had painted her as a storyteller in love with a knight that had died in her arms. One that had been killed by her own hand.

Not a dream. A memory.

“What are you talking about?” She rasped, ignoring how her dried lips cracked with the effort of forming words, the metallic tang of blood slipping into her mouth as she tried to swallow. That voice that had once told her to run was screaming at her again to not let on what she knew.

Survive, it said.

Arching her perfectly manicured brow, Kearia waved a bored hand. A thick, dark fog began to manifest itself around her clawed fingers until it dissipated, leaving a heavy leather bound tome in her clutch.

“I see your education hasn’t done you much help. My dear Levy, you’re very own thesis is about how such tales like this are bound in truth.” Her voice dripped with venom as she dropped the book with a loud thud that scattered dust around them. Her mind supplied a memory of a painting of a cruel queen, and of a blue haired girl clutching a dying knight to her.

“Your very own story lying just at your fingertips, and yet you were too busy trying to prove his story to be true, that you missed your own,” the purple of her eyes were filled with malice as she chewed out her words, turning them into sharpened pieces of ground metal that each found a mark in Levy’s chest.

“How tragic.”

Punctuating her point, Kearia let out a short bark of humorless laughter that sent a thrill down her spin as it echoed through the empty room.

“Then tell me, Aunt Kearia,” Levy said lowly, twisting her wrists against the rope as she leant forward, fruitlessly trying to work against the twine. “What is my story.”

Time stood still around them as her hardened gold stare held her aunt’s amethyst one, a silent battle of dominance waging between them as the quiet dropped onto their shoulders like a thick blanket. This close, Levy could see how the shadows had turned her into something sharp and untouchable, but now she just looked human.

Somehow, that made her all the more terrifying.

Then, she was gone. Pushing herself up from her crouched position, she turned her back to her niece, her shoulders rising and falling with the burden of a weight she couldn’t see.

“Your story,” she hissed so lowly, Levy was almost sure she’d imagined it at first. “Is my story.”

The loud clicks of her heels bounced off the walls as Kearia began to pace, the stained dagger glinting its now red shine as she turned it this way and that, examining its blade as if it held the answers.

“I succeeded, you know,” she after a thoughtful moment. “I won. I took everything from you like you took everything from me.”

Pain and anger charred her words until they were black, settling in the space that stood between her and Levy like burning hunks of coal.

“But love got in the way,” another humorless laugh as she shook her head. “It’s always love in these tales, isn’t it? Love took Makarov from me, and then it took this from me too.”

Turning her attention to Levy with a sharp look, she hissed.

“You took that from me too.”

“No, I—” Levy started, grasping for anything to say to defend herself, only to be cut off by a single wave of Kearia’s hand.

“But I was angry, and I could watch you lose everything over and over again. To see that pretty face turned ugly with pain and your tears as he died in your arms time and time again.”

Gajeel, the voice said softly as if saying it any louder would make it break. It was nothing more than a caress, but it raised goosebumps along the path of her forearms as she continued to watch her aunt twirl the dagger in her hand.

“It was the sweetest revenge, made even sweeter since he always died because of you.”

The corner of Kearia’s blood colored lips turned upward in a cruel smile as she turned to follow her path back across the room. The sound of her voice droned along to the cadence of the pulse in Levy’s ears.

He always died because of you.

You will kill him, wasn’t that what the specter of her former self had said? The realization made her nauseous as everything started to slowly click into place.

The book.

The dream.

Her aunt.

“But I am tired of following you through the end of time. Tired of this,” Kearia paused as her fist tightened around the handle, turning her knuckles white in the dying light of the day.

“This hollow pain in my chest. I lost everything. And watching you suffer no longer gives me satisfaction.”

Swallowing back bile, Levy watched warily as her aunt stopped just before her. Slicing the blade through the air in a low arc, she found herself staring down its point as she continued.

“Why should you continue to get more time?” Anguish cracked her words like fragile glass beneath a hammer.

“Why do you get to relive any happiness at all?”

Quiet settled over them as she kept the dagger pointed at her niece, the shadows of the setting sun growing longer across the room until the woman before her completely shifted into someone else.

Before her, she stood taller, her spine lengthening as she took on a regal pose as she looked down her nose at her. It was an all too familiar look that turned her aunt into a far distant memory that sent waves of panic and fear rolling through her chest.

Her voice came unbidden from her lips as she spoke.

“Who are you?”

But she already knew. She’d seen those purple eyes painted on page. Had seen the woman they belonged to. Knew exactly whose eyes had been watching her for all her life.

All her lives.

But she needed to hear it.

“Stupid girl,” Kearia hissed before she lunged forward, driving the dagger into the drywall just to the right of her head. The blade vibrated with the force as she let go, using the same hand to grab Levy’s chin, her thumb landing cruelly on the cut on her cheek. She felt the sharp points of her nails as they dug into her skin.

“I am the queen. I married your father but he never loved me like he loved her. Like he loved her.”

Fire burned in the depths of her eyes, turning them so dark, Levy could no longer see the bright purple they had once been.

“And now, this is going to end.”

Levy’s head hit the wall behind her as she was shoved back, the sheer strength of it popping stars across her vision as the queen stood and turned toward the doorway.

“How?” Levy gasped as she watched her lithe form walk away. Panic burned at her nerves, tearing into her chest and leaving a gaping wound along her sternum that left her hollowed out as she prayed for an answer. Though, what she would do with it, even she didn’t know.

The sharp clack of her heels against wood was the only answer she thought she would get before she watched her aunt pause in the doorway.

“How?” She tried again, desperation making the word heavy.

“He’ll end this,” Kearia finally said, not even bothering a final look over her shoulder as she disappeared through the entrance and leaving Levy alone with her thoughts.

He’ll end this.

Her mind turned the words over and over until they almost blurred together, leaving just a single name in its wake.

Gajeel.

The silence of the room was shattered as she cried out into the now darkened room as the sun dipped beneath the horizon.

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#gajevy #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #Gajeel X Levy #fairy tail #kingdom #OH GOD ANSWERS #BUT DO THE ANSWERS MAKE ANYTHING BETTER?! #probably not cuz they're only like half answers #everyone knows that the interludes are where the REAL answers lie #anyway good luck see ya on the other side #(if yall cant tell the climx is comin)

[ka-za-ri]

Possibility Part 1 (Ignis x Reader)

Genre: Slice of Life Rating: SFW Pairing: Ignis x Reader Wordcount: 3,425 Suggested Listening:  Two Hearts -- Daichi Miura Tags: @r-e-g-a-l-i-a​ @itshaejinju​ @sweetchocobae​ @roses-and-oceans​ @cagedbycravings​ @kanekeii (I s2g, tumblr LET ME TAG THEM) @desperateauboise (OMFG I HATE) (I think that’s everyone, please dm me if you want to be tagged in future work.)  Notes: Basically, I had a conversation with my muse and it went like this:  Muse: Soooooo You haven’t written Ignis in like, a week. Me: Yeah, but you said Nocti---- Muse: IGNIS. IGNIS. IGNIS. IGNIS.  Me: ._. You’re like a 12 year old...  So yeah, it’s back to your regularly scheduled Ignis stuff. Part 2 to hopefully come soon. 

First Rotation; Second Love:

Spending time alone was one thing that Ignis sorely needed. Spending time alone at a carnival was not on the list of things he had intended to do. However, there he was, wandering the crowded, hot carnival, trying to find himself and understanding the appeal of such a festival. He wasn't quite sure what had drawn him to queue up and wait for his entrance ticket. Perhaps it was partially because of boredom, or perhaps it was simply because he needed an excuse to do something other than to dwell on the thought of her that made him do it.

Either way, there he was, sticking out like a sore thumb among the throngs of people, wearing a tailored suit in the blazing summer sun while he willed himself to try and “loosen up” as Noctis had always asked him to do.

Ignis had always considered the Ferris wheel to be a source of calm in the chaos which came with summer carnivals. There had always been a sense of peace captured in the gentle rise and fall of the large wheel. It consisted of a cycle of two rotations which rose and fell seamlessly to perfectly timed whirs and clicks of mechanized gears.  Amidst the gaggles of happy couples and parents being dragged around by their children, the Ferris wheel seemed to be a place of quiet and comfort where he could find time to breathe.

The summer sun beat down on his back, making his suit feel uncomfortable, though Ignis had too much pride about him to bother taking it off. He had chosen his wardrobe very deliberately that day, and he'd be damned if his impulsive choice was going to ruin what he had planned that day. As the sun continued to relentlessly shine, he found his thoughts drifting back to the reason why he even needed time alone in the first place.

His hands were empty without hers to cradle. It was a painful fact that he had to accept. He wasn't the right one for her. The rightness he had initially felt when her palm fit perfectly into his was, in the end, a lie. He needed to wrap his head around this fact and he needed to get over it. He was starting to do irrational things and that was not acceptable for a person of his station and rank.

Every now and then, he could feel his fingers twitch and ache with yearning. He'd feel the ghosting feeling of her fingers through his gloves and he had to constantly remind himself that it was only a memory. Memory. Forever a memory. Nothing more than that. It didn't stop him from missing her though. She was supposed to be there with him, standing in line in front of the Ferris wheel and enjoying the summer sun together. The scenario he lived shouldn’t be as lonely as it was.

Too bad getting her back was never going to happen.

The line inched forward and Ignis willed his mind to be blank and numb as he waited for his turn. He concentrated on the music of games being played in the distance and tried to tune out the intrusive thoughts which poked at the corners of his consciousness. One hand tapped restlessly on the screen of the phone in his pocket, wishing it'd go off so that he'd have an excuse to no longer be there. He wanted solace.

He didn't understand why he had convinced himself that coming was a good idea. Physically, it was disgusting and painful for him to walk around in the blazing heat of the sun. He could feel his feet sweating from the heat and soaking through to his socks. A feeling he hated but accepted as punishment.

As bad as the physical pain was, the mental strain he bore was something that made his whole body ache in a different way. To see people so many happy people around him made the holly space in his chest beat with a pace that matched the tempo of the distorted carnival music in the background. The beat echoed through his body, striking every fiber of his being with the same word over and over again.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

The fault laid entirely on him. She had every right to hate him. She had every reason to leave him. She was right to blame him for everything, after all, it was hard to love someone who was never there to be loved. In turn, he blamed himself for all he didn't do. He regretted every action he didn't take to prevent the ultimate outcome. He replayed his last few days with her over and over again, running through every possible scenario until he had memorized the moments down to the number of tears that fell from her eyes as she finally said goodbye.

He reminisced about those last moments and what could have been until he felt the heaping pile of sand which was his memory and love slipped past his fingers. One grain at a time, they'd fall past his reach until nothing was left save for a thin, sticky layer of mixed emotions and false thoughts which clung to his skin and movements.

No matter how many times he'd tried to wash himself from those memories he had of her, the sand remained cleaved to him. Each grain dug deeper into him any time he tried to rid himself of the pain of heartbreak. A part of him didn't want to let go of the pain and the memories on the off chance that she'd come back. Somewhere, in the back of his mind he had already convinced himself that he wouldn't find someone else, someone better than her even if he knew better.

And so, he found himself thinking about nothing but her. How she would have loved to walked with him, her hand in his and he'd admire the way the wide brimmed sunhat she loved so much to keep her nose from burning would frame her face just right. He'd remember the way the way her shoulders would peek through the gossamer bolero he had given her as a present.

Even now, he could hear her laugh in his ears as the rumble of the rides she would have loved to go on would drift in and out of background noise of the carnival. She'd always want to go on the tallest and the fastest ones. He'd always have to politely decline for fear of looking less than presentable. He could hear her plead with fake tears in her eyes as he heard screams of terror coming from the horror house just a few paces away. He could feel her hand hold his just a little tighter as he waited for his turn at the Ferris wheel.

Time seemed too slow as he watched the numbered carriages rise and fall. It put him in a more sedated, calmed state that he was in before. As time slipped slowly past him, one carriage at a time, he felt the sounds around him melting away and a blank bliss washed over him him. It was like being swaddled in layers and layers of warm blankets, muffling his senses and numbing his pain just enough until it was his turn for the ride.

“Oh, only one?” The ride master asked, taking the crumpled ticket from him. “How about I let the next person sit in with ya? The line's long and the day's hot. How about just one more person in your carriage?”

He hadn't cared to pay attention to see who was had been standing behind him, nor did he really care who was to be sitting next to him. All Ignis knew was that his feet were sore and his body ached, whatever made the ride master happy was going to be going to be good enough for him.

“It's fine.” He murmured, walking up and following the clearly marked path to the swinging metal carriage which he would call his for two full rotations.

The cracked, pleather seat creaked as he sat down. The Plexiglas windows supported by steel beams were, as usual, scratched an unwashed; smudged by the sticky fingerprints of countless children who had pressed their hands and faces against it. Ignis couldn't help but smile just slightly at the endearing image of childish happiness. His finger traced one of the long, cracks of the seat, fingering the old, shedding powdery yellow foam which had started to peak out from underneath.

For some reason, he was restless to get off the ground and on with the ride. Something about having to ride with a complete stranger made him nervous. Out of pure habit, his foot bounced up and down while his hand plucked at the seat cushioning. He fixed his gaze pointedly out the window while apprehension as to who would be sitting with him filled him with a mix of dread and excitement.

Dread for the simple fact that he wouldn't know how to react to whoever was coming his way. Excitement for the fact that meeting a complete stranger may turn out to be a good thing in the end if he struck a connection with them. Eventually, the conflicting emotions in him came to a truce and settled on a singular conclusion.

Don't let it be a girl. You can't go through that kind of pain again so soon.

He had enough problems getting over the one who plagued his mind. Her granulated memories still grated at every movement he made. The thought of a girl coming in and forcing him to make pleasant talk only made those memories dig deeper into the festering wound that was the hole in his heart. Meeting another girl so soon would only make him feel defiled, unclean. He hadn't even finished cleansing himself from the last person he had loved so much. Talking to anyone who may strike his fancy would only taint them. Every word, no matter how genial and pleasant felt as if it was coated with the residue of her impact on him.

It was difficult to admit that he was back at a beginning. He had been with her for so long, it was hard to remember what it felt like to be alone. The feeling of solitude was one he was still getting adjusted to. No longer did he have the pleasure of waking up daily to see her next to him. He didn't have the luxury of holding him tight against his body when he felt himself crack under stress. All he had now was the cold side of the bed when he turned over in the night.

When. When was it that he had fallen so far for her?

When did my life start revolving around her? Where did I go? My life should be dedicated to the King. Not this.

It was a terrifying realization he had come to. She had defined him as he could have never defined himself. Somewhere along the line, he had forgotten who he was and what he stood for. Somehow, he had turned into nothing more than the ashes of smoldering emotions for a person who left him.

He couldn't face another person this soon. There was no way for him to handle company without having to deal with the gaping emotional wound in his own being. His sense of self had melted beyond any recognition. The already stuffy summer air seemed suffocating when he realized that the ride master would most likely set him up with the next female in line.

After all, it wasn't right to be alone on a day like this.

What also wasn't right was to be tortured by someone who blamed him for everything. He was left broken and she was somewhere far, far away, free from his grasp. He had been left behind in the wake of strong emotions, shattered and bleeding from the eyes.

Please. Please don't let it be a girl.

The heat of the carriage crept up on him, crushing his spine and curling his body up. He dared not glance at the gaping door for fear his luck would run out. He hadn't realized the anxiety which hovered over him until then. When his sweat ran down his back, soaking his dress shirt, he could feel the droplets of sweat tracking tiny rivers down his back, chilling him through his very core.

You're weak. So weak. Oh, so very weak.

Yes. I know. So end me.

Silently, Ignis sent prayers to whatever holy powers were above and pleaded to the Six for his one wish to be granted.

Unfortunately, those on the Astral planes had decided to deal him a hard hand that day.

First Rotation; Last Hope

The sun was brilliant the day you decided to go out. You were more than glad that you had brought your favorite sunhat. There wasn't a doubt in your mind that without it, your nose and cheeks would have been burnt without it. There was a slight breeze from the east that day, one that brought you wet, feather light kisses from the sea. Not a cloud in the sky and you couldn't think of a better way to spend your day than to be at the carnival. The sights, the sounds and the overall atmosphere from such a lively event was much needed.

It had been the first time you had been free in weeks. For what seemed to be an eternity, you had shut yourself in your room, pondering your choices and wondering what it meant when you had broken off your last relationship. The conclusion you reached in the end was one which you were forced to agree with. It was painfully obvious, but more so, it was painfully true.

It's my fault for loving deeply enough.

Five years had flown by you as you had held hands together with him. Twenty full cycles of seasons had passed. You remember distinctly the fluttering feeling in your stomach as you whispered secrets to him in winter, watching your breath float up into the milky gray sky. The memory of dancing to the beat of summer storms was still seemed fresh in your memory. If you closed your eyes and though hard enough, you could still feel the raw sting in your throat from when you screamed your love to him over the roar of thunder.

Twenty seasons had passed you by as you gained trust under the biting winds and changing leaves at the turning point of autumn and winter. Sixty months cracked at the beginning of spring when the scent of freshly cut grass tickled at your noses.

You wondered if you were right for doing what you did. After all, you were the one who had initiated the break off. He had been good to you, good for most people, but it wasn't right for you. There was something missing in your relationship with him. Something didn't fit into the intricate gear-like workings of your relationship with him. Like sand, it ground and tore at the thin, makeshift clockwork you had cobbled together which ticked closer and closer to the end of your love together with him.

So, when you realized he had loved you much more deeply that you did, you became scared. He cherished your every move, ever smile, kiss, touch emotion, laugh and tear. He remembered all the little things you said when you weren't looking. He'd remember to surprise you on the regular with a gift you had wanted for years. These things, he showered you with, and you couldn't do the same for him.

There was a lack of connection. You just didn't know him well enough. You knew he loved listening to you, so you talked. You spoke volumes about yourself, never stopping long enough to listen to his stories.

Somewhere along the line, you had forgotten that a relationship was built of two people and not just you.

I don't deserve someone like that. He's too good, too pure for someone like me.

He had told you he loved you. The very idea terrified you. The thought of being kept to one person, for the rest of your life made you shiver in fear. There wasn't any way for you to describe how deeply it shook you to your core. You had no idea what the concept of love was. There was the idea of being in love. The ideal that someone would sweep you away and bring you into a paradise of smiles and happiness. You never imagined that being in love would mean being tied down.

Often, you wondered where that giddy feeling had gone. You'd look down at your hand and wonder about the warmth of his hand and how cold yours always felt against his. Sometimes, you could feel the ghost of the emotions you once had for him. It was a lovely memory, but you reminded yourself that you had taken much more than you had given. That, was a crime you could not forgive yourself for.

You tried not to think about those times, but there they were, creeping up again in your mind. You couldn't help but miss the feeling of someone to lean against, someone who would put up with your constant bullshit. More than anything, you missed someone who didn't mind you being a demanding, selfish person.

You were free now, though. That was something, wasn't it? That was something you wanted so sorely and forcibly celebrate. For the last five years, you had seen nothing but him, heard nothing but his soothing voice and felt nothing but his warm embrace when you were afraid. You hadn't realized how trapped you were until after you broke up with him. There was a brilliance to the colors in your world now that you hadn't seen before now that he wasn't around. To you, his love, as pure as it was, had bleached out everything around you.

He had become the center of your world. Like a flame, you were drawn to him and blinded by his kindness. He had made himself the center of your attentions and in the end, you had somehow stopped feeling for those around you.

Now though, you could breathe and not have to worry about his own breath mingling along with yours. You could walk along the sidewalks without his steps being partnered with yours. You were without any attachments. As a free agent, you were going to live as much as you could with the life you had left.

He would remain in your memory and follow you as he had in your real life. As painful as some of the memories were, you were okay with that. As sincere as his feelings were for you, you knew it was better off if the two of you weren't together. It simply wasn't meant to be. To continue that way would have only brought the two of you to a destructive path with no happy endings. Now though, at least he had a chance to find someone who could love as deeply as he did. You, had your chance to feel the world and live as freely as you wished.  

I deserve to spread my wing

The Ferris wheel was always a place you had fond memories. It was going to be the first time in five years since you had taken a ride in one alone. There was a strange giddy feeling building itself up as the line moved slowly towards the large steel and glass structure. Butterflies pattered at the lining of your stomach as you passed your ticket over to the ride master.

He smiled genially and seemed to be expecting another person to be with you. He paused and took a double take when no one else handed him another ticket.

“Miss, if you won't mind too much. We'll have to put you in a carriage with another person. It's way too hot to keep these folks waiting.” He explained.

“That's fine with me.”

“Alright then, right this way.” He said, gesturing towards the carriage with the open door.

Following his directions, you went ahead and sat in front of what seemed to the most uncomfortable and gloomy man you had ever seen in your whole life.

He's more trapped in here than I would ever be by my past.

He deserves much more than I do...

#Ignis x reader #FFXV imagine #FFXV scenario #FFXV fanfiction #my writing #yay more heartbreak than a country song