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lalal-99 · 3 months

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of timeless love {h.j.} | track 1

©March 2023, February 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 2.6k

Synopsis: You and your annoyingly adorable boyfriend Jisung move off to university, to make new friends, find a calling and learn how to live on your own for the very first time in your lives.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: I first thought of this story about a year and a half ago. I didn't feel ready at the time, but as I got better over the years, I picked this story up again. Updates might be slow, so bear with me please

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You, 6 years ago, wouldn’t have bought this romantic af, straight out of a fairy-tale storyline.

You going to University? With the love of your life? Like the picture-perfect couple, smiles glued to your face? Nuh-uh. Not you. Not in this lifetime and most likely not in the next dozen—if you ever were so unlucky.

Family, love, college. All of it was bullshit. Temporary.

Nothing good ever lasted. If anything, a dark twist was already lurking around the next corner at any given moment. You couldn’t imagine a dimension in which you were ever happy. Let alone content.

Your 14-year-old emo self would never grow out of the jet-black hair. Or the countless piercings decorating your face. Or those cole-coloured ripped skinny jeans you wore like a second skin. So much you knew. Past-you only ever wanted to gloom through life in a hazy blur. Depressed about My Chemical Romance breaking up and all the other hardships life had already put you through.

That girl would have despised who you had become. Hair grown back to its natural colour. Wearing shirts without some underground metal band’s logo printed on the front. That girl would have likely made fun of you for even thinking about grades. And your future? If you ever had one, your 14-year-old self knew it would include nothing but darkness and despair.

Every teenager around you went through that phase, though you were sure it was more than that. A phase. A short and survivable part of your story. You fully and whole-heartedly believed nothing would ever change about your attitude towards life. It couldn’t, not after everything that had happened.

Overcoming that horrible chapter of your life seemed unimaginable. That you even got the chance to reach out and grab your future by its horns only had one reason. One person who was to become the most meaningful part of your life. Of the same future, he was the reason you even considered having.

Han Jisung.

A boy of innocence and noisy introversion. A boy who, despite having lived through similar trauma as yourself, had a will for life toxic enough to capture you. A boy who you became sure was the closest thing to a soulmate you would ever find.

No one could have prepared you for how hard you’d fall for Jisung. You loved him at his best, worst, and everything between. And you had fallen in love with him despite his lousy sense of humour and silly persona. Or maybe, you had fallen for him because of it. Because he had a similar story to yours but an opposite look at it.

Your 14-year-old, always-depressed, doom-certain-self could have never imagined being with someone like him. Let alone being head-over.heels. All while doing what? Watching him do something so mediocre and none-life changing as buying toothbrushes?

“I don’t know. Which ones do you think?”

Jisung presented you two indistinguishable packs of toothbrushes, waking you from your daydream. Thus, the blurriness faded and your eyes focused on the tiny words on each cover.

“These,” you decided on the left option. “Those bristles are too hard for your gums.”

“Oh, we definitely can’t have that.” With a dramatically disgusted expression, he returned the wrong set to its place on the shelf. “I want to keep at least some of my teeth.”

“Thankfully,” you agreed with a snicker. His words cracked you up more than they should have.

No doubt, your 14-year-old self would have hated yourself six years later.

“Okay. What else is on that magic list of yours?”

“Microwave popcorn and some instant ramen. And we should get some notebooks and highlighters for tomorrow. That’s it.” You listed the remaining articles off the slip of paper while crossing out the products you had retrieved from the hygiene section. “Should we split up?”

“Nah. That’s how they die in horror movies. And I’m not going out in the food court of a 7/11.”

“Fair. How about the Back-to-School aisle then?”

Jisung pondered his reply as he wandered past toothpaste and mouthwash. “Too many pens for people to draw penises on my face. The cleaning section, however? That’s a whole other conversation.”

“How come?”

“Well, there’s bleach and mops already. Also, buckets. So they can simply wheel my corpse away.”

As you walked by the pasta and other canned foods, you picked up a tray of ramen each. For convenience, if anything. Had it not been for the thinness of your wallet, you would have gone for fresher produce. So much for independent living.

With an intensive focus on your absurd conversation—Jisung listing places he would most likely die in if he were a character in a horror movie—you didn’t notice a tray of stacked goods blocking the path. It wasn’t until you bumped your shin on the square-edged tower that you finally took notice.

As a wave of pain swallowed your leg, you left out a shriek. “Gosh freakin’ dang it!”

“You good, baby?” His concern was genuine, though he couldn’t help smiling at your desperate attempt not to swear. “Let me see.”

Jisung kneeled in front of you, noticing a reddening wound once he had dragged the jean fabric up your leg.

“Just a bruise.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one feeling like your skin is being dragged off your flesh.”

“No. But I can make it better.”

He rose to his feet, arms hugging your frame as he picked you up without any effort. You giggled as he heaved you into the cart, careful not to squish the food.

“What are you doing?”

“No girlfriend of mine should have to walk when she’s in pain,” Jisung explained, helping you get settled. Pushing the crushable goods out of the way, you sat on the cans. Not the most comfortable seating, but it worked, nevertheless.

“Damn, those other girls are lu-cky.”

Jisung was pleased at how casually you had joined in on his joke. A smile formed on his lips as he pushed you along the shelves of seasonal produce.

You soon reached the Back-to-School aisle. There you took your sweet time deciding on notebook formats and highlighter colours. It kept surprising you how much fun it was to go grocery shopping when done with the right people. Everything was about 50 percent less boring because of Jisung. Jisung and his ability to find something ridiculous in anything and everything.

After you had made some other critical decisions—like which folders would make organising the year easiest, the ones with dogs or flowers in front—you finished up your school-supply-run.

When you reached the cash register, you noticed the strange looks the other customers gave you. Two young adults strolling through a supermarket, pushing each other in grocery carts? Definitely side-eye-worthy.

Maybe you would have cared more had you not been so enticed by Jisung’s mindless humming of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.

“What?” Jisung questioned your glances as he started unloading the items from the cart.

“Nothing.” You joined him, unloading all the trays of food you had picked minutes earlier. “This feels weird. Going grocery shopping together. Feels grown-up somehow.”

“We go grocery shopping once a week,” he declared with a thoughtful pout.

“But that’s different.”

After you had emptied out your purchase, he wheeled you further down the band. The woman behind the cash register seemed equally interested in you as all the customers. Soon enough, she continued doing her job.

“You mean because we didn’t have to pay for it ourselves?” He held his hand to his heart as if heartbroken. “I miss your dad, too. Always so kind, paying for all our stuff.”

You chuckled at his playful sincerity.

“No, idiot.” As Jisung reloaded the cart, you payed for this week’s necessities. “Because we’re grocery shopping on our own, living off at uni. We have officially moved out of our home, living in the big city. It’s— new. That’s it.”

As soon as you had reached the exit, you picked reached for the strawberries, unable to abstain any longer. Strolling towards his car, you handed one over to your boyfriend while sucking on your own. Like the gentleman he was, Jisung helped you jump from the car and you packed everything into the trunk.

Once you had placed the cart back by the others, you finally headed home. Or rather, the dorm room you would be living in for the next four years.

You weren’t at that point of calling it your home yet.

A comfortable silence surrounded you throughout your drive. It remained while you stacked away your half of the food back at your place and lasted until you finished. This sort of silence wasn’t uncommon these many years into your relationship—you hardly noticed it anymore.

“Man, all this talk about horror movies makes me want to watch one.” That you hadn’t mentioned this topic for over 30 minutes seemed irrelevant.

“But you’re horrible with horror movies,” you pointed out.

“Not when you’re there to protect me.”

An hour later you were sprawled out on your bed, the last sweet strawberry long gone.

With your legs entangled, Jisung’s face rested on your chest as you massaged his scalp. After minutes of fruitless discussion, Spiderman was now webbing his way through your laptop screen. In the end, it really didn’t matter what movie was playing. It never did as long as you were with each other.

Not even 20 minutes into the movie, Jisung had fallen asleep on top of you. His faint snoring was now mere background noise as you followed the plot, ehich wasn’t as simple as it sounded. Your energy was more than drained from running around all day.

Only three days ago, you had still been back home. Packing for your upcoming move to a new city, two hours from every place you had grown up in. The one thing keeping you calm throughout the stress was your sweetheart-boyfriend. To no one’s surprise. He was the only person able to keep you sane when all you wanted was to scream and cry. Had you not had him by your side, you would have drowned in all the noise your brain usually produced.

His ability to calm your nerves when you needed him to—know when to make you laugh or when to distract you from your everyday stresses—surprised you to this day. You couldn’t begin to explain how you had been lucky enough to find someone like him. Someone you loved as much as you had seen your parents do when you were younger. Let alone how he loved you the same way, almost self-destructively so.

Your 14-year-old self would have called bs. But that girl was someone else—you, but in another lifetime. You but pre-Jisung.

When the door to your room rushed open, it pulled you from your quiet slumber. You had turned off the lights earlier to set the mood but still knew the intruder was your roommate. Besides you two, only Jisung knew the code to your dorm—a decision you had previously discussed with your new roomie, of course. Seeing as he was knocked out on top of you, you could cross him off your list of possible visitors at 8 pm on a Monday.

Adapting her eyes to the darkness, she checked her surroundings before tiptoeing into the room. The light remained off as she expected you to be asleep.

“Hey,” you greeted the dark-haired beauty, making her jump in surprise at the sudden noise.

“Fu—God! You scared me.” With one hand over her heart, your roomie calmed herself from your unexpected jump-scare. Once her heart rate had settled, she slipped out of her heels and left them by the end of her bed. “Is he asleep?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, letting your finger run along his jaw to check. He didn’t move, so you knew he was most likely out for the night. “Long night?”

She gagged with an eye roll, pulling her jeans off her legs and exchanging them for grey sweatpants. “Don’t get me started. I haven’t even started writing my thesis, and it’s already kicking my ass.”

You watched her as she also changed out of her dress shirt and into an off-the-shoulder crop top. She slipped into a pair of sneakers while making her way to her dresser where she sprayed herself in a cloud of perfume.

“You’re leaving again?”

“Yup. I spent so much time at the library today, I apparently neglected,” she air-quoted with an eye roll, “my girlfriend. At least that’s what she said.”

“The things we do to keep our loved ones happy.”

“Exactly.” Unleashing her long curls from a tight ponytail, she ran her fingers through them for a few seconds. Her beach-waves veiled her face, so she pushed them behind her ears to instead frame her near-perfect features. “Anyway, I’m staying at hers tonight, so don’t wait up for me.”

“Okay,” you agreed with a yawn, your roommate replying with a deep chuckle.

The past few days, you had mainly spent in your new room, settling in and getting ready for the start of the semester. You liked planning ahead, knowing your life was organised to a T, so you could focus on the important stuff. Your studies, and your boyfriend.

Your roommate seemed to have most of the same priorities. She had gone out every night since you moved in, be it to study at the library or spend some time with her better half. However she managed to squeeze in all the partying? You had no clue. You could only hope some of her togetherness rubbed off on you. But then again, never judge a book.

“I’m going to take you out one of these days. You are not going to be sitting inside all year. Not on my watch.”

Spending the first two days inside, you must have looked like the biggest couch potato ever.

“Sounds good.”

As she waltzed towards the door, you grabbed her attention one last time. The hallway lights blinded you with their brightness, framing her curves in a halo.

“Oh, and Hwasa?” She turned to face you, looking like she had jumped straight off a Vogue cover. How she did that without trying was a mystery to you. “Can you not tell Wheein he’s sleeping over? I wouldn’t want my first warning on the third day already.”

“Babe, as long as you’re my roommate, my dorm-supervisor-girlfriend won’t dare write you up. Just don’t set anything on fire, and you’re solid.”

With that, she waved goodbye, leaving you and your boyfriend alone. Well, apart from the ever-so-handsome Tom Holland, who somehow made full-body suits look like a reasonable choice of clothing.

Not soon after, your eyes fell close, sending you off into a deep rest.

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rat-typewriter · 1 year

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HATING WEDDINGS - DABI X READER

SUMMARY: just hours before you’re due to marry a man you don’t love, Dabi comes to change your mind.

Warnings: Swearing ig?? if that’s a warning lol

Proofread?: Not for even one second 😌

You sat, staring at your reflection - the stylist nervously tried to meet your eyes in the mirror. It was the third hairstyle she had tried in two hours.

“It’s nice.” You said, attempting to mask the disappointment in your voice - but judging by the way your soon-to-be mother-in-law rolled her eyes and huffed, you were still a bad liar.

Over the year that you had known the woman, the only thing you seemed to have in common was a mutual dislike for one another. You were not the sort of bride she wanted for her son - but this wasn’t about love or fairy-tales or happy endings. It was strictly business.

Quirk marriages were much more common than most people would’ve liked to believe; they paid well too. You’d been found by the guy’s father - an owner of a wealthy construction company - who knew your quirk would be an invaluable asset to their business. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself, but at least money would never be an issue for you again.

Your mother-in-law had pulled the hairstylist into the doorway - as if standing a few feet away suddenly made you incapable of hearing their hushed voices. Your legs seemed to be buzzing with adrenaline that only seemed to be getting worse as the ceremony drew closer and your head was starting to feel slightly too light for the rest of your body - as if it was fading into a puff of smoke.

Just as you began to half-heartedly wonder if you might be about to vomit: your phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number flashed up on your screen.

Last chance.

Quickly, you swiped the message away - averting your gaze, instead focusing on the colours of nail polish picked out for you. You had no idea that there could be so many shades of white: eggshell, cream, ivory, pearl, snow, chiffon, porcelain-

Now or never.

You stared at the text, your legs becoming more restless than ever. Now or never had become an almost-inside joke between the two of you - a secret reference to the first time you met that you both dropped into as many conversations as you could. Now or never summed up everything about the two of you.

—

You stumbled through the snowy alleyway, still reeling from excitement - and smoke inhalation. Your whole life you’d wanted to do that. To burn something. Not to light people’s cigarettes or warm their cold hands or melt their icy car doors. To burn something.

Despite your blackened clothes and singed hair, the cold was starting to numb your fingers. The night air was freezing; turning your breath to fog in the dark. Your flimsy canvas shoes had long been soaked-through by the wintry slush that covered the streets - you hoped it wasn’t far.

You hoped this place was even real.

You reached a metal door - dented and dimly lit by a flickery yellow bulb - and knocked. Do you knock at a villain’s hideout? You wondered to yourself, beginning to feel nervous. Everything you knew about this place had come from whispers on shady streets or out the back of bars.

Pulling you from your thoughts, the door swung open - the metal groaning as its hinges scraped together.

You couldn’t quite see the person who had opened the door, as they stood a few feet back - hidden by the darkness - but his voice was low and raspy when he spoke.

“Coming in?”

You stood, staring into the black - your legs suddenly made of lead, but your chest alive with electricity.

Another moment passed, the quiet filled by your soft breath turning to fog. A van rumbled past on the road and you caught yourself glancing back, watching as it rolled by.

“Now or never.” He said and you turned back to face him.

“Better be now then.” You said hoarsely - your throat burning as you spoke.

The stranger stepped back and a yellowy strip of light crossed his face, illuminating his features. His skin was littered with scars you recognised as burns - something you had become familiar with, over the years of being unable to control your fire quirk - but beneath them he was young, no older than you.

His eyes crinkled slightly and he grinned - which suddenly sent sparks of fear and excitement through your chest again.

“Come on in then, sparky.”

—

It was the fifth time that your phone buzzed - two minutes before the ceremony was to begin - that you gave in.

You suddenly jumped out of your seat, the bridesmaid (who you barely even knew) and had been fixing your hair stumbled back.

“I- Uh,” you stammered as the other bridesmaids turned to stare at you. “I’m going to the toilet.”

And you took off.

You stumbled out of the door and down the hallway in shoes that were horrendously uncomfortable. You took a left, then a right, then a left again - until you found an open window.

Without thinking, you forced the window as wide as it would go and shimmied through - tumbling out and into a bush.

As you attempted to pull yourself out and untangle your clothes - which had caught in the branches - you heard a familiar laugh.

“Wow. Bit desperate to leave are we?”

You whipped around, finding yourself face-to-face with Dabi.

“Didn’t think you missed me that much,”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out and your brain was suddenly empty. Butterflies erupted in your stomach - the boy who you hadn’t seen in over a year was still able to make you nervous.

He grinned - oh how you’d missed that - and laughed again. “You look gorgeous, Doll.”

“Thanks,” you breathed - a little lightheaded. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He stepped forwards - rolling his eyes; offering a hand to pull you out of the bush. “Oh, how you flatter me,”

Accepting the hand, you let him heave you out of the bush - pulling you far closer than necessary. You stood practically against his chest, having to crane your neck slightly to look him in the eyes.

You swallowed and felt your face grow hot.

God he knew just how to make you feel sixteen all over again.

"I've missed you." You breathed.

He smiled - with only a hint of his usual smugness. "I've missed you too, Sweetheart,"

His hand found its way to your waist and he bent down, quickly kissing you. It wasn't long or passionate or hot. Just a regular, discrete peck on the lips.

But God did it make you fall in love all over again.

The sound of voices suddenly echoed around the corner and Dabi glanced around. He took a step back and turned to you with that slightly-terrifying, but oh-so-exhilarating grin.

“What do you say we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He extended his hand to you, faking a courteous bow and in return you grinned and curtseyed. Giggling slightly, you put your hand in his and he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles - winking up at you.

"Dabi Todoroki I never knew you were such a gentleman!"

"If you ever tell anyone, I'll have to kill you"

For a moment, his tone is so serious that you almost believe him - but then he smiles and tugs on your hand.

"C'mon, I hate weddings."

"Me too." You giggled.

With your hand in his, you both took off running.

#dabi #dabi todoroki #touya #touya todoroki #my hero academia #my hero #bnha #mha #dabi x reader #bnha dabi x reader #dabi todoroki x reader #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero x reader #bnha dabi #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mh x reader

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wwinterwitch · 2 years

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ST CHARACTERS + TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS

summary: taylor swift songs that represent what a relationship with these characters might be like

includes: robin buckley, steve harrington, eddie munson, nancy wheeler, jonathan byers (no pronouns used for the reader, except some references to a fem!reader in the lyrics)

warnings/what to expect: fluff and angst, romantic pairings, happy and sad songs

note: Keep in mind this is just for fun, if i didn’t put your fav song for one specific character don’t come for me please. If you think other Taylor songs can fit these characters you can always put them in the comments!! I’d love to see what other songs reminds you of them.

a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

main masterlist | stranger things masterlist

ROBIN BUCKLEY

— YOU BELONG WITH ME She feels like a total loser around you, thinking you're way out of her league. And it hurts because she whole-heartedly believes no one will ever treat you the way she would. She can read you like a book, knows all your favorite movies and songs, and knows how to make you feel better when you're sad. It’s frustrating because she knows she can make you very happy, yet she doesn’t have the chance to.

I can see her comparing herself to other people a lot before you start dating, secretly longing for you to notice her feelings for you. More often than not, others would catch her creating fake scenarios in her head involving the two of you being in a relationship.

Most likely you’d make the first move since she honestly thinks you would never like her back. And when she does realize you like her, she’ll be over the moon with excitement.

most meaningful line: “dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you’re looking for has been here the whole time.”

— BEGIN AGAIN Robin would be your biggest fan, so she really wouldn't care about the way you dress, what music you like, the books you enjoy...she's a fan of every little detail about you and she'll encourage you to be yourself. And she’ll be just so supportive of you, making you feel unique and special just the way you are.

She wouldn't change a thing about you, being that type of lover that fully connects with who you are and that admires you unconditionally. Truly, you’ve never been loved the way she loves you.

most meaningful line: “cause you throw your head back laughing like a little kid, I think it’s strange that you think I’m funny cause he never did.”

— MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE Robin is the type of person that is terrified of reaching out, so if she likes you she'll most likely drop subtle hints to let you know she's interested but never fully confess it. She'll remember random things you tell her, learn what you like or don't like, and then try to impress you with her knowledge about things you like. Basically, she’ll do whatever helps you realize she likes you.

Telling you directly? Not a chance. She'll get too nervous and mess everything up. It's better for her to be subtle about it and hope you realize soon enough so you can make the first move.

most meaningful line: “feeling like a face in the crowd, I’m reaching for you terrified.”

— DANCING WITH OUT HANDS TIED Since the moment Robin fell in love with you, she knew she couldn’t have the perfect fairy tale story other couples have. She couldn’t hold your hand in public, kiss you whenever she wanted, show how much she loves you for the whole world to see. You sadly lived surrounded by people that wouldn’t understand.

But you showed her you don’t care about keeping it a secret if it means being with her. You don’t care about anything but her.

No matter how insecure Robin would get, you’re always there to remind her your love for each other is worth it despite the hate you might get if the town found out about the two of you. And you give her hope. You make her feel like she is living in her perfect fairy tale despite all of it.

most meaningful line: “I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us. So, baby, can we dance, oh, through an avalanche?”

— DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS If you two ever break up, this song would definitely describe what the heartbreak would feel like. I feel like Robin is a very dedicated lover, offering her entire heart, body and soul to you (that’s why she’s so terrified of making the first move, trying to spare herself of getting her heart broken). Her love is passionate, naive and blind, being both a virtue and a curse.

She’ll have a hard time trying to get over you. Absolutely everything would remind her of you or the relationship you two had. Her heart would break all over again when she sees you walking down the street, not being able to handle the fact that you’re not hers anymore.

most meaningful line: “you said it was a great love, one for the ages, but if the story’s over why am I still writing pages?”

STEVE HARRINGTON

— CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS Steve seems like the guy who would say certain things without taking a second to think about the impact of his words before actually saying them. He could say that you're the person he wants to spend his entire life with when his feelings for you aren't even that strong.

He doesn't do it on purpose. He knows firsthand what it feels to be lied to by your partner. Instead, he does it because he genuinely doesn't want to hurt you. Steve much rather lie than knowingly breaking your heart.

I feel like he's aware of this flaw, but has no idea when it's happening or how to control it, just recognizes the problem once the damage is already done. And he'd feel terrible for hurting someone he claims to care for just because he can't connect with his feelings and be responsible about the things he promises or tells to a significant other.

And he knows they deserve better than him.

most meaningful line: “love slipped beyond your reaches, and I couldn't give a reason.”

— MR. PERFECTLY FINE Because he doesn't think before he speaks, I feel like this song also explains how he can say things he doesn't really mean and break someone's heart because of it. He'll realize he made a mistake way too late and by that apologies are not enough.

I feel both songs represent a similar situation, but it varies on what the outcome is. Whether Steve just broke the heart of nicest person he has ever met and feels absolutely terrible for hurting someone who didn't deserve that; or Steve got to close with you when he wasn't really looking for something serious, and when he tells you what is going on you dump his ass and recent him for being so inconsiderate with other people's feelings, and him completely ignoring you forever because he's too ashamed to face you for what he did.

most meaningful line: “and i never got past what you put me through, but it's wonderful to see that it never fazed you.”

— RED I think dating Steve would be a Rollercoaster. The sweet moments are the happiest, and the sad ones are just awful. Everything means more and hurts more when it comes to him.

But that's the beauty of loving Steve, because it's so passionate that neither of you can get enough of your relationship. It's a fight worth fighting until the very end. And you can learn to love him even in the darkest of times, with the bad days and the good days, with the loving and the fighting.

With this in mind, I feel like it would take a lot of time to get over a boyfriend like Steve. Because he is caring, extremely funny, super loyal, dedicated, passionate...it's hard to forget someone who made you feel so much.

most meaningful line: “regretting him was like wishing you never found out that love could be that strong.”

— FEARLESS This sounds exactly like what falling in love with Steve must be like. I see you two being the classic pair of friends that clearly have romantic feelings for each other but neither realize at first.

As you spend more time together you both get more comfortable around each other, finding the courage to brush the other's hand by accident or hugging just a little longer than necessary. By the time you finally realize he likes you back, you two are sharing the first of many kisses.

And the relationship is just the cutest because Steve would be such a dedicated boyfriend, you'll be very happy with him and the little improvised dances in a market's aisle, the riding around town at midnight with a mixtape of songs you both enjoy playing in the background, the fact that he doesn't seem to run out of new jokes that never fail to make you laugh and just all the love this man will give you.

most meaningful line: “run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you.”

— OUR SONG This song is as pure as what I think Steve would be as a boyfriend. You two would drive around town, he’d sneak into your bedroom almost every night, and overall you two would be inseparable.

And everything would be so special, every little aspect of your relationship would mean the absolute world to him. Neither of you needed big demonstrations of love to know how the other feels. It’s evident in the way you’d laugh at all his silly jokes and the way his eyes light up every time he sees you.

You don’t need big gestures with Steve, falling more and more in love with him with so little.

most meaningful line: “our song is the way you laugh, the first date “man, I didn’t kiss her when I should have”.”

EDDIE MUNSON

— PAPER RINGS This song just screams Eddie to me. I feel like the moment you meet him, you won’t be able to get enough of him. He’ll be so charismatic and funny, you’ll have a hard time forgetting a guy like him.

And then everything will be just so special when you two finally start dating. He’ll be the best boyfriend ever to you, always making you feel loved and cared for, like you’re the most wonderful thing that has ever existed.

You’re so in love, you don’t care about what others say or think about him. All you care about is Eddie. To make him feel as loved and special as you do.

Eddie would propose to you right after he graduates, already wanting to get the hell out of Hawkins with you and start a family somewhere else. And of course you say yes, and it doesn’t matter that you don’t get a big proposal, a huge wedding or the house of your dreams, because with Eddie by your side you already have it all. You wouldn’t want to live those moments with anybody else.

most meaningful line: “I want to drive away with you, I want your complications too, I want your dreary Mondays. Wrap your arms around me, baby boy.”

— INVISIBLE This can go either way depending on what type of person you are. If you’re this social and outgoing person, Eddie would most likely feel insecure around you because you have so many friends that probably don’t even like him, so maybe he’ll avoid talking to you despite having a massive crush on you. Therefore, I feel like this song would describe exactly how he feels towards you whenever he sees you around, thinking to himself you probably think he’s just another weirdo you’d never turn to look at twice.

But if you’re this shy and socially awkward person, I feel like this would describe how you feel towards him. Eddie is an extrovert. He loves being loud and making a scene whenever he can to seem intimidating, so most likely you won’t dare talking to someone like him. You would much rather stare at him from a distance, not doing anything about the way you feel about him.

Either he’s the invisible one who secretly wants you, too afraid to talk to you because of what you might think of him; or it’s you the one hiding in the shadows, thinking someone like him would never notice someone like you.

most meaningful line: “and all I think about is how to make you think of me and everything that we could be.”

— SPARKS FLY This song perfectly describes what it would be like to date Eddie when literally everyone around you tells you not to. Because how could someone willingly date the weirdest guy in Hawkins, too obsessed with D&D and metal music to care about graduating? You’ve never cared about those types of comments, because they come from people that don’t know Eddie like you do.

Also rockstar!Eddie kind of? Perfect song to hear while going on tour with your boyfriend and his band.

most meaningful line: “I run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild.”

— KING OF MY HEART I feel like falling in love with Eddie quite literally hits you like a truck. It’s unexpected and everything happens so fast, and now without realizing your cuddling with him in his bed wearing nothing but your underwear and his Hellfire t-shirt, wondering how you were able to live without him for all these years.

And you fall for him hard. No one else could ever compare to him. No one has ever make you feel the way you do with him, and you doubt someone ever will. It’s all about him, and you just can’t get enough.

Also, this feels like the perfect song for the cheerleader/loser trope and I can’t stop thinking about how the lyrics just scream Eddie to me.

most meaningful line: “is this the end of all the endings? my broken bones are mending with all these nights we’re spending up on the roof with a school girl crush.”

— THIS IS ME TRYING I can easily see Eddie being super insecure in a relationship because he’s grown thinking he doesn’t really deserve good things happening to him. That he’s a coward trying to act like a hero. Therefore, maybe he’ll break things off with you because, in his mind, he’s a complete disaster you shouldn’t have to put up with.

But then he’ll realize letting you go was a big mistake. That he finally had a good thing in his life and he pushed it away. Not the people talking shit about him or because he’s stuck in senior year again. It’s his fault.

This song would reflect how he’d feel trying to get you back. How everything is his fault because he chooses to hear what everyone else tells him rather than take control of his own life, and how he’s ready to own up to those mistakes. And maybe you won’t take him back and that’s okay. He’ll be content knowing you forgive him for hurting you. Perhaps you don’t want to be with him anymore, but he just wants you to know he’s trying to be better.

most meaningful line: “I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that.”

NANCY WHEELER

— I WISH YOU WOULD I feel like Nancy can be a little impulsive and stubborn, and both qualities can be extremely useful for some situations, but when it comes to your relationship it really wasn’t helpful at all.

She’d break up with you over a late-night phone call in the middle of a fight, only to regret it immediately after she hangs up. And then she’ll wait for you to reach out, her hopes dying more and more everyday because you never did.

And then she’d blame herself for waiting when she should’ve acted before it was too late. Before you two stopped talking entirely and she never got to make it right with you, keeping to herself everything she should’ve said to you that night.

most meaningful line: “I wish we could go back and remember what we were fighting for.”

— HOW TO GET THE GIRL I think Nancy would be a hopeless romantic, even when she doesn’t want to show it that much. Therefore, she’d love every time you do some crazy movie-like gesture for her. She’d chuckle as her cheeks turn a light shade of red when she sees you standing outside her house in the middle of the night with a gift for her. You’d make her feel butterflies when you offer your jacket when it’s cold or hold the door for her. She’d tell you how much she loves you when you stay all night talking to her on the phone whenever she can't sleep.

And because everything is movie-like, I feel like this song portraits how difficult it can be for Nancy to forgive you if she ever gets mad at you. You really need to stand outside in the rain and proclaim your love for her. Of course she’d immediately forgive you, falling even harder for you because she’d never been with someone that really goes that extra mile for her.

most meaningful line: “remind her how it used to be, with pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks.”

— LONG STORY SHORT Nancy will be your number one protector. No one can mess with her partner, or else they'll have to face the consequences. She's a strong force, willing to fight whoever dares to hurt you. And you know she'll always be your safe place to run to if things get complicated.

Nancy will be such a great girlfriend, she'll make you feel like all the other people that came before her were just there to prepare you for the best: her. She’ll always have your back.

most meaningful line: “when I dropped my sword, I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door.”

— ENCHANTED Okay, I don’t know why I keep seeing everything with Nancy happening so much like a movie, but I can totally see the two of you flirting with each other all night, maybe at a party or a reunion at the Wheeler’s because your parents are friends, staring at each other and her blushing when you two bump into each other whenever one of you tried to walk inside the room just when the other was trying to walk out, or when you accidentally brushed hands when she handed you a glass of water.

And neither of you could stop yourselves from smiling like idiots and barely having any sleep that night because you replayed everything in your head over and over. Both of you spend hours trying to figure out if this exchange was mutual or not. To know if the other felt the same way.

most meaningful line: “the playful conversation starts, counter all your quick remarks like passing notes in secrecy.”

— I BET YOU THINK ABOUT ME I feel like Nancy has very big dreams for the future and wants to leave everything behind, which never fails to make you feel terrible because you can’t help but think she’s unhappy in Hawkins with you.

She'd always think leaving would be easy because whatever is out there is better than this small town. She even feels guilty sometimes, finding herself thinking it won't be hard to live without you because the life she has planned for herself sounds too good to replace it for the one she loves. It's an opportunity she just can't lose.

But after she moves out and breaks up with you, she realizes letting you go has to be the worst decision of her life. She failed to see what she had until it was too late.

most meaningful line: “Does it make you feel sad that the love that you're looking for is the love that you had?”

JONATHAN BYERS

— THE 1 With Jonathan moving to California and him being just the worst at communicating, I can see him breaking up with you in just the worst way possible. Whether it's at the very end of a phone call or even a letter, I feel he can be very insensitive about it because he just doesn't know how to deal with breakups. He’s not even sure if he wants to break up in the first place, but it felt like the right thing to do now that you two are so far away.

That would evidently leave you heartbroken and hating him because you really didn’t deserve it. And even when you finally move on, the what-ifs would always remain, especially after he breaks up with you so suddenly, without explanation, without room to talk.

You truly thought Jonathan was the one for you, and now that he’s not, you’re not sure what’s next in store for you.

most meaningful line: “I persist and resist the temptation to ask you, if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?”

— THE STORY OF US Similar to the last one, Jonathan really has to work on communicating his feelings. Ever since he moved to California, he’s been feeling like the two of you are more and more distant with each other. That you barely have time for him anymore, and that perhaps you already met someone new that’s keeping you preoccupied.

But instead of talking, he just assumes. And that’s so much worse than facing you and talk things over, because he comes up with random scenarios of things you are and aren’t doing, torturing himself with them.

And you’re no better, also deciding to stay quiet instead of talking things through, which leaves the two of you in this constant uncertainty of “are we okay?” “are we still together?” “is this the end?” “what is going on?”. You both suffer in silence, longing for one another, watching as your relationship crumbles right before your eyes.

most meaningful line: “this is looking like a contest of who can act like they care less, but I liked it better when you were on my side.”

— MARY’S SONG (OH MY MY MY) Leaving aside the miscommunications and the moving away, I honestly feel like being in a relationship with Jonathan would feel like this song. He seems like the type of guy you’d love forever, meeting from a young age and being inseparable ever since, getting married and forming a family together. Everyone around you would watch as the two of you grow up and begin realizing you are in love with each other. And he could perfectly remember the look on Joyce’s face when he finally told her he wanted to ask you out. She knew all along you two would end up together.

Everything will be sweet and magical. Like a love you only thought existed in movies, but you managed to find that in him. A loyal, dedicated, caring and committed lover who would do anything to make it right to you, to make you happy. I have no words, this is just the purest type of love ever.

Most meaningful line: “take me back when our world was one block wide, I dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried. Just two kids, you and I.”

— YOU ARE IN LOVE This is another song that represents what the good side of a relationship with Jonathan might feel like. Just pure love for each other.

I can see it being sort of a slow-burnish type of relationship, starting as friends before you both realize you don’t want to be friends. And it would be so special because there’s no need to say it out loud. You both can see the other falling just as hard in the little comments each of you make, or the small gestures that mean the entire world when they come from the right person.

You find love in the little things, the stuff most people ignore. And that’s what makes your love for Jonathan so special.

most meaningful line: “he says “look up’ and your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch, but you felt enough.”

— ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY For a messy break up, I feel like this represents what experiencing that with him must be like. I can see him getting insecure about his feelings or the relationship in general and maybe pushing you away (with or without his realizing it), starting to avoid you or randomly canceling dates with the worst excuses you’ve ever heard, until you’ve had enough and finally break up with him.

And then he’ll realize he screwed up and try to get you back, but you’re quick to tell him everything would’ve been so easy if he just stayed with you instead of pushing you away every time you tried to reach out to work things out.

most meaningful line: “people like you always want back the love they pushed aside, but people like me are gone forever when you say goodbye.”

#robin buckley x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #jonathan byers x reader #taylor swift #song fics #taylor swift songs #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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novelmonger · 25 days

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6, 8, 10, and 18 for Susan Pevensie!

--Rain

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

I am the Susan Pevensie of my family - second-oldest, oldest girl, brown hair.... XD While the Edmund of my family is a sister, not a brother, I've always felt the most connection to Susan, at least in terms of sibling dynamics.

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

ThE pRoBlEm Of SuSaN x.x Sure, I went through my own little journey of feeling betrayed by Susan when she rejected Narnia, but then I read what C.S. Lewis had to say about the matter, and how he thought she would probably come back to Aslan in the end, it just wasn't a story he really wanted to tell. I wish more fans would pay attention to what the author himself said, rather than running off in weird directions *cough*NeilGaiman*cough* or saying that it's all about anti-feminism or something. I whole-heartedly believe Susan will find her way to Aslan's country in the end. Her journey is just a bit more...circuitous.

10. Could you be best friends with this character?

Depending on when in her life it was...probably not. Certainly not during the time of her life where she was laughing at the "silly children's games" her siblings talk about; she would be far too "grown-up" for us to stand each other for very long. Maybe later on, when she grows old enough for fairy tales again.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

I really like her relationship with Lucy. As an older sister myself, I know what it's like to sort of take on the "mom" role amongst the siblings. And yes, sometimes that leads to being rather bossy (and realizing you're being annoying even in the moment you're being annoying), but it also means your siblings turn to you for comfort - especially sisters. One of my favorite parts of the whole series, actually, is when Susan and Lucy sneak away to follow Aslan to the Stone Table, and then are there for his resurrection.

Character Ask Game

#ask and you shall receive #a2on1break #ask games #chronicles of narnia #susan pevensie

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katymay-xo · 2 months

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What if Amy Rose had her own spin off??

With the release of Princess Peach: Showtime has got me thinking…imagine if we had gotten that similar experience for our fav pink hedgehog Amy Rose? Sure, you could make the argument that due to the bad reception of Shadow The Hedgehog (2005) when it was released indicated that Sega was not going to make any more sonic spin off games in the future (though I will defend that game for the entirety of my living existence because I whole heartedly loved it) but theoretically it could be a great concept to bring back because you could do so much with each character.

But in this case, I want to talk about the many ways of what I personally think could work if Amy had a spin off game.

1. Good Character Writing

Over the course of the Sonic franchise, there have been many interpretations of Amy some range from very bad to very good if you know what I’m talking about. If you want an in depth discussion of Amy’s evolution throughout the years read @ratrrriot post they do a great job of explaining it better than I ever could. But basically in short terms: showcase her love and compassion but is a fierce determined hero and willing to stand up for the people whom she cares about but retain both her bad qualities such as her stubbornness and so it would make feel more grounded and like a real person.

2. An Open World Format

Sonic Frontiers was a definite refresher for the format of Sonic games. The open world really helped how the open world is a great fit for Sonic games show casing how alive the star fall islands were and immersive gameplay experience can be. I know some people were mixed on that aspect but personally it was a welcome addition that helped with the story. In my mind, Amy would be going on her adventure led by her tarot cards as well as expanding her horizons and come across this magical and unknown land associated with love and kindness (one of Amy’s defining traits). The land would like some fantasy/ fairy tale inspired world with each level being more beautiful than the last and in a sense still being rooted into Sonic’s world with creative lore but with a girly twist on it one of the many things that definitely defines who Amy is and that some of the locations/ levels within the game could be off real life places or folklore.

3. Story

Sonic Frontiers and to an extent The Murder of Sonic The Hedgehog were praised for being the first Sonic games in years to have a good story probably since Sonic and the Black Knight. Definitely can work if they have good writers. Amy would be in the game for obvious but maybe two or three more friends along for the ride too but having them be in the story instead of them just being in the background like Cream, Blaze and Silver or something? Have them develop into by Amy had impacted them in so many ways and how they want to return the offer. Explain how the fantasy world in the game came to be, the culture of it and their way of living, sacred treasures they may hold to keep the world in balance. Introduce characters from the fantasy world so you would feel more invested into the journey and having one of the inhabitants be the main antagonist an trusted ally to the team.

3. Costume Upgrades

Amy has had some very cute outfits upgrades most notably in Sonic Dash or Sonic Forces Speed Battle but you would have to unlock the outfits doing certain tasks or completing each level zones in the game that also help progress the narrative feeling as that they are essential. Again it doesn’t have to be the case but it would be a cool feature to have be put in the game as well as her friends getting costume upgrades too.

Again, this isn’t trying to force the game if it would happen. It’s just me ranting some of my ideas if an Amy Rose spin off game were to actually happen but I doubt it’ll be the case any time soon.

My Synopsis of names of the world in the game, the levels/ zones it can contain and what it would look like;

Location of the Story: The Petula Isles

Levels/ Zones:

Valley of Love:

Dreamy Skyline:

Crittered Cove:

Wintered Wonderland:

Jubokko Forest:

Crystal Caves:

Link to @ratrrriot’s post on Amy’s Evolution:

#sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #shitpost #sth #spin off #princess peach showtime

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lemonduckisnowawake · 5 months

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Beyond the Four Leaves of Fortune

I actually wrote my @inklings-challenge (thank you to the runners for holding the challenge!) story on the 28th, intending to post it on the same day given the inspiration from Holy Innocents Day but, uh....didn't. Also, excuse some of the typos/clunkiness as I didn't really edit well because 3k words.

The most important thing to note here is that I took inspiration from Jeremiah 31: 16-17, the verse after the whole Rachel weeping thing. And also that it features the same characters from the previous challenge. With that, here it goes!

“I think…” Wynan began, side-eyeing the scene in front of her with the air of someone long-resigned to everything, “that it should be illegal for people who have read too many books for their own good to get wrapped up in adventures.”

Relani and Meryan glanced at each other, perhaps a little guiltily.

Or so Wynan chose to interpret, just for her sanity. They were, after all, hiding a rather overly large creature behind their backs and not very inconspicuously. She couldn’t identify the creature right away, not having the breadth of knowledge Meryan had on the nuances of other worlds nor Relani’s impressive mental encyclopedia of obscure creatures. But the important things was that it was dark blue, snake-like (or perhaps wyrm-like with its scales?), dripping an odd gray liquid on the living room carpet that was probably blood…and very, very visible.

“We readers know all too well how things go and end,” Wynan continued, abandoning the laptop she’d been writing something on. She leaned against the door to the kitchen (opposite to the entrance from the mudroom), crossing her arms and quirking an eyebrow. “There’s no stakes and no drama, so involving us in the plot really will be no fun because we’re gonna just make the most boringly safe choices.”

Like, for example, opposing the adoption—not healing, since it looked like it needed patching up—of a magical beast.

Meryan glanced at the wyrm-like creature half squished into the mudroom, then back to Wynan. “Um…he’s a wyrm from one of the fairy-tale-like worlds who almost got lost to the void,” she attempted, her voice robotically professional. “We’ve decided to name him Léf.”

At her words, the dark blue wyrm weakly floated into the room, able to fit due to magically decreasing his size. He made a huffing noise as he flopped on the floor, the gray liquid dribbling out of him staining the carpet.

Wynan made the mistake of looking into his eyes, black full of blue stars the same color as his scales.

Léf whimpered.

“…crap.”

…………

“After he’s all healed up, we do have to release Léf back into his world,” Relani admitted a few hours later, when they’d patched up the tragically compliant wyrm and put him into one of their emptier rooms.

Meryan turned around so swiftly that she almost spilled the pot of broth in her hands.

“What?? Why? What if Léf doesn’t want to go back?!” she half-heartedly protested.

Like Wynan, Meryan was also a reader and thus aware of how this story would play out.

Also like Wynan, though (or perhaps it was the reverse), Meryan had become captivated by the wyrm’s adorable eyes and his clear exhaustion of life. So despite knowing better, they decided that maybe this time they could let the story play out differently and keep the wyrm with them.

“I mean…this house does need a pet,” Wynan contemplated, far too innocently for someone who had said literal hours ago that she wouldn’t support any idea that came from this. “I know we have Meluan—”

“Meluan isn’t a pet,” Relani sighed, though she smiled at the banter thrown at the currently-absent fourth member of the house. “And do you really think she’ll allow this?”

All three of them flashed back to their various attempts to keep animals here at the edge of the universe.

“…she probably will, to be honest,” Wynan reminisced. “And then we’ll have to repair the walls again.”

“Or rebuild the roof,” Relani reminded.

“Or find an obscure chemical to remove sea monster mucus from the floorboards,” Meryan finished with a sigh, sitting down (bowl of broth and all).

It looked like the story wouldn’t play out differently this time, after all, Wynan thought. Well, she’d tried not to get attached…for all but two minutes, at least. But you couldn’t just give them a helpless animal and expect them not to get attached, so who’s fault was it, really?

But back to the matter at hand.

“Well…I wonder what led him here, anyway,” Wynan spoke up, frowning at the wyrm curled up on the fuzzy and currently blue carpet.

Right now, Léf was breathing easily and fast asleep, but there was something about its…everything that didn’t sit right with Wynan. Barring the fact that the Abode Before the Void rarely received animals—and, if they did, they were companions of (or remnants of) their owners who’d come to the void—there was just something about the wyrm that seemed…off. Clearly, he wasn’t a remnant of someone the sisters couldn’t save or they would have felt it but what was he?

Unaware of Wynan’s thoughts, Meryan easily supplied some of the information missing. “I can’t really tell what exactly the creature means to his world, but he comes from a fairy-tale-esque land…the ones where the myths and folk tales of other universes seem to come alive?” she explained, resting her arms on her knees with a fond look at the sleeping creature. “The unique point in this world is the way these fantastical creatures co-exist peacefully with a technologically advancing world. A modern fairy tale, to put it in other terms.”

Relani grimaced and crawled closer to the sleeping creature. “I can add a bit more.”

Fearlessly, she brushed asides the filmy light blue material that made up Léf’s mane. The wyrm slept on, affected by Wynan’s special power over dreams and rest to not wake unless necessary, and thus was unaware of the moment Relani revealed three white shapes on its forehead.

“Ah, I thought so,” Relani hummed. “He’s a familiar, or that world’s version of one, anyway. The shape on Léf’s forehead is a sign that he’s been claimed.”

She was about to edge away from the creature before Wynan stopped her.

“Hang on,” Wynan said, standing up and studying the marks.

“You sense anything?” Meryan remained where she was, simply resting her head on her arms as she observed her sister working.

Wynan nodded slowly, stepping back. “The mark is broken…I don’t know what exactly that means, but I can sense it was broken and that it wasn’t caused by either death or some…dramatic moment of sacrifice on the owner’s part.”

Wynan turned in time to catch the storms that were Meryan’s eyes narrow.

“Well, I do know what that means, and that means whoever Léf’s owner was, they broke their bond…crudely, too, if the mark is still there,” she explained, the professional tone she’d taken on again lined with fury. “No wonder Léf was driven here.”

“Broken bonds are no joke, between people but especially unequal ones like this,” Relani sighed deeply, stepping back as well. “I wonder what Léf’s story is.”

“I could try looking,” Wynan offered conversationally, sitting back down next to the creature. She absently scratched at the surface of the carpet. “I mean, there’s no guarantee on what he’ll dream about, but I could take a look in there and see what sorts of dreams he’s having. I’ve found that animals usually dream memories since they have more limited imaginations than those with souls.”

Relani scooted back a little, with a hand gesturing to, by all means, go ahead.

Followed by Meryan’s, “Oh, could you?” Wynan placed a warm hand gently on Léf’s neck. The touch wasn’t strictly necessary, but Wynan liked the thought of there being an action needed before invading the dreamspace of someone’s mind. Even if that someone was a less intelligent creature.

And, as it usually was with less intelligent but magic-touched creatures, the dreams she saw were more fragmented memories, coming from the limited perspective of a familiar clearly enslaved by the whims of his master or mistress.

Warm fires. Robotic pats that didn’t hold much affection but were appreciated nonetheless. Frustrated growls, not necessarily directed at him but terrifying nonetheless. Words of magic. Commands. Burning villages. Blood in the mouth. A prison he was banished into until called. A tattoo of a creature that looked like Léf.

And the clearest dream/memory?

It was of a figure in white smashing a glowing red crystal upon its head—its familiar mark, if Wynan had to hazard a guess. Pain soon followed, and Wynan instinctively let the warm blanket of her magic cover the terrible memory, soothing its sting as it passed like a video on a screen than a past reality lived.

She stayed in there for a while longer, knowing she had the full story but just in case Léf required more mental relief, but only felt his dull pain and exhaustion along with hints of relief in the darkness.

“Hmm,” Wynan commented upon exiting.

She was half aware of her sisters exchanging a look.

“Meaning?” Relani prompted soon after.

“I think he was bonded to an evil wizard or…whatever the magic people there are called,” Wynan slowly parsed, remembering the emotions.

Behind her, Meryan snorted. “No surprise there.”

At Wynan’s side, Relani’s lips thinned. Relani was also another reader, and the three knew way too many stories to hear that and not instantly conclude what happened.

“I mean, the story isn’t as smooth as that,” Wynan interrupted the silence, waving her hand in front of Léf’s covered mark. “His bond with his owner was severed, yes, but I don’t think it was done by them. I think they treated him…well enough. Perhaps not great, but there wasn’t any abuse to note of.” She thought about it a bit more. “But I think Léf was under the power of a storybook villain, if that’s anything.”

The fury in Meryan’s colorful eyes softened.

“I see…so Léf has his own stains,” she muttered, lifting her head up a little. “Things that stole his ability to claim his own innocence but wasn’t guilty of, not really.”

Wynan nodded. “That seems to be the story, yeah.”

“So, I’m supposing the hero of this story had to get rid of the villain’s steed before beating the actual villain once and for all?” Relani continued, lips twisting in a half-playful, half-regretful smile.

Again, Wynan bobbed her head in agreement, edging back to sit on Meryan’s side.

“I’m guessing lots of people had to bear the tragedy for the story to reach its happy ending,” Wynan concluded, looking at the poor wyrm driven to the edge of ever universe. “And we’re looking at one such innocent lost to the void.”

“Almost lost,” Relani corrected, stroking the wyrm.

At her comforting touch, Léf let out a deep sigh, as if relieved, as if trusting he was somewhere safe.

“Are you sure we can’t keep him?” Meryan half-heartedly attempted the question, not expecting anything from it. “Can we even let him return to his world when he was pretty brutally expelled from it?”

Continuing to pet the wyrm’s smooth scaled, Relani laughed quietly. “I’m sure Léf will be fine back there once he heals. We can only hope that he’ll find a better wizard or mage to bond with, if he ever allows himself to be caught again.”

Yep…as expected.

That was how the story always went. One of them found a helpless animal somewhere (not usually near the universe’s edge, though), they contemplated keeping it, a story of their appearance there was revealed, either mayhem or a realization that it had to return to its world followed, and then all of them went back to their lives missing the animal.

Still…it wasn’t so bad to get attached and maybe try to shift the story just a little, right?

Maybe that’s part of the story, Wynan thought, laughing a little to herself. Tell them we won’t get attached, get attached anyway, learn to let go. And with our life out here, it’s not like we won’t ever see them again.

“YO!”

Following the muffled shout, the door to the empty room housing Léf burst open, revealing a rather frazzled Meluan panting heavily and shouldering a rather large bag. She barely gave a second glance at the large wyrm taking up half of the space and waved her arms frantically at the other women.

“First of all, I’m back. Secondly, I am in need of support,” she gasped out between heavy breaths.

Unfazed, Wynan dryly sighed, “Stop panting. You literally cannot physically get tired in this house.”

At the same time, Relani chuffed and asked, “What did you do, Mel?”

“I’m emotionally tired! And need emotional support!” Meluan protested, her gaze bouncing from Wynan to Relani. “Also, I did nothing! You’re all the ones who forced me to make the library run this time, and unfortunately, the Librarian decided she wanted to tag along so someone please give me emotional support!”

Meryan, who had been laughing at the exchange, hopped up. “I’ll go,” she giggled, taking the large pot of broth with her. “You guys stay here and watch over Léf.”

“Have fun,” Relani saluted, the hand over her mouth not at all covering her mirth.

“And leave the bag behind,” Wynan added, knowing it likely contained the books they’d sent Meluan out to borrow.

Instinctively, Wynan caught the heavy bag immediately thrown at her, smiling at their usually unperturbed housemate looking so clearly bothered. “I’d wish you luck, but you’re just being dramatic,” Wynan called out as Meryan closed the door.

Incensed despite allowing herself to be dragged by Meryan, Meluan grumbled, “The Librarian is in my house! That’s not dramatic at all!”

“She’s not going to bite you in our house,” Wynan heard Meryan reply.

“Uh huh, anyway. What do you mean by having named the wyrm I saw? Or did he come prepacked with one?”

“…well, it hasn’t been long, but…”

Their voices faded away, leaving Relani and Wynan alone with the wyrm who had once been a familiar.

Léf’s quiet presence in the room reminded Wynan of a time long ago when she’d just been Wynan instead of…whatever she was now. That individual had loved dragons and had badly wished her world had them, to keep as a pet or simply just to ride. She’d seen a lot of dragons and creatures in the same genus since that particular Wynan’s childhood fantasy, but she’d hardly ever been able to exist in a room this peacefully with one.

“…it’s always gotta be the pets who can’t stay,” Wynan swore, though she smiled in spite of herself. “I hope Léf has a better story when he returns, at least.” Léf couldn’t be happy here, not with the limited space within their home and such nearness to the end of the universe.

Sending a smile her way, Relani laughed her agreement. “I hope so, too.”

“Kind of a shame his story had to end so tragically, though,” Wynan sighed, thinking idly back on the small tale they’d managed to piece together based on their collective knowledge of narratives and longtime experience. “It seems that in the fights between heroes and villains, there will always be innocents on both sides who will have to die.”

Relani’s brows furrowed in response, but Wynan wasn’t offended, knowing that her sister was merely thinking.

“But,” Wynan continued anyway, chuckling ruefully, “I guess it was like that for all of us, too…the way so many ‘faceless’ characters had to die for our story to continue, right?”

It made her wonder if one day they’d be those in the “faceless crowd” fated to die to advance the story and spur the hero to glory. She hoped not…she was content being the lost story that she was. But if there was one thing she as a reader knew about lost stories, is that there was always someone out there who wanted them found.

“Well, Léf’s story isn’t over yet, is it?” Relani suddenly interrupted Wynan’s musing, her eyes twinkling like veiled stars. “After all, there was someone before the edge to find him and help him recover so he could go back.”

Wynan almost rolled her eyes but found that she couldn’t really contest that statement. “Okay, not wrong. Of course you’d see it like that, though.”

“Oi,” Relani protested, leaning back on her arms, though her lips were still stretched with amusement. “It’s not optimism when it’s just the truth, Wynan. We know better than anyone how even those who have wandered off the edge, those actually lost within the void, have been found. No one is faceless in the end, even if it is true that to each other we can sometimes be mere side characters fated to die.”

Relani sighed, shuffling while still seated to throw an arm around Wynan, who leaned into the warmth offered as they both gazed at Léf’s sleeping form.

“Look…there are people who are mourning for the faceless who had to die to continue the story, aren’t there?” Relani insisted. “And there are going to be people who want to rescue them, too, like we do. But that’d be another story—their story, not the current protagonist’s—to tell.”

The only response Wynan had was to snuggle closer into Relani, suddenly feeling sleepy herself as happened with her (it had nearly given Meryan a heart attack once when she’d found Wynan sleeping inside a closet). Memories burst within her mind from Relani’s words, refutations and arguments as well as evidence and agreements to what her sister had said. How there was always someone in this multiverse that would know of a tragedy and mourn the people lost—that was why they were there for, too—and try and reach out to save them.

Well, Relani’s usually right when in these things, Wynan conceded, feeling her eyes shut. And she’s right in that we’ve always been there to fetch people driven to this point, aren’t we? But I’ll tell her she’s right when I wake up, though. I want to sleep…

The story would still be there when she opened her eyes.

#inklingschallenge #for the words!#lemon duck quacks #because i cannot shut up about symbolism there isn't much in it #but i was really really thinking about how the wikipedia page (heh) said that the children killed are in some place called the first martyr #and while i don't know if I agree exactly. it got me thinking on the nameless innocents who die in stories to show....something #and how jeremiah said 'yeah that'll happen but that isn't the end'#because in the Christian story death is not the end #but that's all #lemon duck tales

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unnaturalequilibrium · 1 year

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Andor (TV Show) [5 good things out of 2022]

This fucked me over a little, but in a good way, in the way fiction should. I have been so over and done with anything Disney have done for years, especially in relation to Star Wars. And not to sound like an unwashed man!boy living in his mother's basement, but Disney has simply fucked over the franchise so badly I was pretty much willing to hand it over and surrender it to a generation that don't have issues with commercialism and MCU-standards of dialogue. I mean a wise woman knows when to move on. Then fucking Andor.

In a way I think the show suffered because it was a Star Wars, but on the other hand I love it more because it is. I mean this is at it's core a mature political spy thriller about resistance against and the many faces fascism takes on. As an abstract it had the same vibes as Black Sails or Deadwood, top notch dialogue, understated acting choices and a plot that never stopped yelling "resistance!" at the top of it's lungs all while trying to hang on to their unravelling humanity. This could have been a show people talked about along the same lines, but it's Star Wars so I think a lot of people who might have liked it if it never gave it a shot because of the context. On the other hand this absolutely rekindled my personal love for the Star Wars universe. The fairy tales I adored as a kid were given a mature continuation that I could love as whole-heartedly as I did the Return of the Jedi when I was twelve. It gave a depth to that childish love and allowed it to grow and become something more. For better and for worse.

Andor told complex and very current stories through beautifully rendered characters that occasionally skirted around Campbell's Hero Journey, but never surrendered as fully to it as the original Star Wars trilogy. Instead the characters got to represent big ideas, but never at the cost of feeling like each and every one of them didn't have a very specific and personal agenda for their resistance. And that kaleidoscope of reasons made it feel human and relatable in a way I can't really remember the last time TV or film did for me. It also cut me up worse than anything I've seen in years. I walked out of this experience with a new flame for the media of moving pictures, but with a dread and anger in me that it took weeks to shake off. I wouldn't call myself an idealist, but this shit stoked some embers in me that Disney of all people really have no right to stir.

#andor #andor series #star wars #mon mothma #best of 2022

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owl-with-a-pen · 2 years

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All I can think about rn is Brainy and Nia being left to babysit Esme for a night and Brainy just being really confused and not knowing how to handle a child and Nia just watching his failed attempt, dying of laughter.

By the end of the night, Esme will totally have convinced Brainy to let her give him a makeover. Once again, Nia laughing about it all.

I also feel like Caluans would be the type to have really brutal children's stories (at least, they're brutal from the human perspective) and so Brainy starts to tell one and Nia has to stop him.

If anything, Esme is more cool and mature because Brainy is just freaking out the whole time about everything that could go wrong. She would go home saying how much she loves Uncle Brainy and Aunt Nia and Brainy will curl up on the couch next to Nia stating how scary "tiny humans" are.

Omg yes, I have so many thoughts about Brainy and Nia being the most chaotic babysitters!

I agree that Brainy would realise right off the bat that he didn't consider every factor when babysitting Esme for the first time. I get the feeling he would initially walk into it absolutely brimming with confidence, only to realise very quickly that he bit off a lot more than he could feasibly chew.

There would be a lot of trial and error, and Nia and Brainy would probably end up utilising a lot of their superhero skills to create a safe environment for Esme. Brainy would definitely take that to the extreme. I think his nerves would come back with a vengeance when he starts mapping out every conceivable danger in the apartment, seeking to rectify every single one of them before they have the chance to become a problem.

Nia, meanwhile, would take a more laid-back approach, and would definitely encourage Brainy to do the same when she finally convinces him that not every nook and cranny has to be child-proofed. Once they'd found a balance in that regard, they'd make quite the pro babysitting team.

I get the feeling that kids in general would gravitate towards Brainy, and this would be no different with Esme. Kids love the weird and unconventional, and I can totally see Brainy sharing some very brutal stories he may have been told as a young child on Colu. The kicker though is that I think Esme would actually really enjoy them, and when Nia tries to explain to Brainy how some of those stories might not fly here on Earth, you can bet Brainy would start listing off the classic fairy tales in Earth culture as examples for why that isn't true. Coluan stories might have some pretty grisly parts, sure, but are they really any worse than Little Red Riding Hood getting eaten by a wolf, or Cinderella's stepsisters amputating parts of their own feet to fit inside the slippers? I imagine the two of them would light heartedly bicker about that for a while. 😂

And yes, Brainy would definitely let Esme play with his hair and give him a make-over. You can bet he'd even let her play with his image inducer so that she could dress him however she wanted. (Nia would certainly get a kick out of that.) I also think that, in an effort to ensure Esme's optimum happiness, Brainy would try to give her everything she wanted, even if that is an excess of candy and ice cream that probably isn't advisable when she needs to be getting to bed at a reasonable hour. Nia would recognise when Brainy's habits start looking a whole lot like his giving 100% tendency, though, and would step in as the voice of reason if he looked like he was going too far.

Overall, though, Nia is in hot competition against Kara and J'onn on who can be the most fun babysitters, and so she's not beyond using her own powers to level the playing field. She'd be levitating Esme in energy bubbles any time she wanted (and that does become something of a common demand after Esme experiences it the first time.) Also, just imagine the cool stuff she could cook up with her lucid dreaming power?? The possibilities are endless and Nia would use that to win.

And you just know Alex encourages the competition if it means she gets help eagerly offered to her whenever she's got a date night planned with Kelly. I like to think she has a sticker board on the fridge that keeps tabs on who's been doing the best babysitting job according to Esme. (Points do get docked if Alex finds out that Esme was given ice cream for dinner two nights in a row. Candy bribery is also a big no-no 😉)

I'll stop here before I go on for too long, but these are some of my thoughts on the subject! Feel free to share your own!

#supergirl #brainia #nia nal #brainiac 5 #esme #alex danvers #kelly olsen #dansen #my asks #not writing #brainy4nia

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hawkeyes-chicklet · 2 years

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Day 2 @flufftober "You've told your parents?"

I try to write my new pairing Natasha Romanoff x Brock Rumlow from the MCU.

No warnings, only fluff and maybe a bit agitation because, you know: meeting the parents!!

Rumlow cleared his throat and Natasha looked up from the magazine she was reading. "Okay, this is a bit off but are you free this weekend?" She lent back, her eyes fixated his "You make the shift plans, you tell me", she teased. They were in the one of the common rooms but at this time it was usually empty so they allowed themselves to be together for a while. "It's my mom's birthday on Sunday. Wanna join me?" Natasha's jaw almost dropped "You want me to meet your mother?" "Only at your conditions. You can be a friend from work, or a stranger I collected on the way."

"It's her 70th and her secret wish is that I bring a date home." "Wow", was all she could say. "You don't have to come, I was just…. I don't know what I thought…", he said.

It was late at night as she texted him: "What kind of party will it be? Formal wear?" She could only imagine his face lighten up reading this line. He was answering right away: "Kind of formal, don't do something too fancy or the landfolk will go crazy. "I'll have to warn you. I'm not good at family festivities."

Rumlow picked her up on a parking lot of a 7/11. He drove a Jeep Grand Cherokee in velvet red. "You look surprised?" "Yeah, I was expecting you to drive a Hummer or a Mercedes G Class." "No, that reminds me of work too much. When I drive, I want to have a little luxury." She raised one brow as she climbed in. He had his secrets and she was eager to find out about them. It would be a nearly 3 hour ride toa town called Lyndell, located near Philadelphia.

It was, once again, strange for her to see him in every day clothes. They never did undercover missions together, he was the type of agent who shot first and asked then. She looked at him secretly, once again asking how he did his hair so perfect everytime. He was wearing blue jeans and a green shirt, aviator sunglasses.

"Okay, in order to say thanks for coming with me, you can ask me anything." Brock said.

"What brought your mother there? I thought you grew up in New York?" "I did. But as I joined the army and later shield, she wanted to try something new."

His mother didn't knew that he killed people for a living. Maybe she assumed it but in her world it would be more comfortably to think the other way. Natasha could correlate to this. Would she have told her parents what she did given the chance?

He sent a amount of his money to her every month. "She had a rough time raising me." She smirked. "Come on, say it: Mamas boy?" "No, I think it's pretty sweet."

\_\_

As their got near the location, Natasha felt a little nervous. But why? She had never met any parents of her lovers. That was that. She had no time to think about it, for Rumlow was turning into a driveway and stopped the car. "Alright. You okay?", he asked and looked at her. "Yeah."

He took their bags and they went to the front door. It was a house in a cottage style, a blue-painted bench stood left of the entrance, the whole house was covered and surrounded by plants. Some were planted, some looked like wild-grown. Little details were sprinkled here and there. A birds house hanging from a beam, a little bowl with water providing water for animals, some wooden figurines hiding in the plants. Altogether it looked dreamy and like it came right out of a fairy tale.

She followed him into the house. "Mom!?" "Oh, my boy is home!", came a voice from a room she assumed to be the kitchen. Rumlow got embraced and heartedly kissed by a thin woman with bright clothes and long grayish hair.

"Oh my good lord, why don't you tell me you're not alone!" The woman had noticed Natasha standing behind her son. She punched him on the arm and ran trough her hair.

"This is Natasha", Rumlow explained "Natasha, welcome! You can call me Holly!", she said and embraced her also. Nat was baffled. "Oh, I have to fix another set of bedding since you aren't going to sleep alone." "Just no efforts, I can do this of you hand me the sheets", she offered. Holly looked at her as if she was crazy. "No no, are you alright? Go ahead, make yourself comfortable, I'm right there with coffee and scones." Holly went up the stairs "You do drink coffee, dear?", she called down "I do, thanks."

Natasha looked at Rumlow who had put on a grin. She smiled but shook her head a bit. "Yeah, that's my mother", he said and went to the living room with her.

It was a creative mess. There were loads of books, colorful paintings, a piano, a big desk with lot of paperwork and an old typewriter. A fireplace, no TV but a large sofa. Nat had trouble noticing every detail in this room. It was loaded with many things but it seemed very cosy due the mess. Trough the large windows she could look into the backyard that was a addition to the one in the front. There was a little pond, a place for a grill and a set of wooden chairs and a table.

"I'll go get some dishes, go on, take a look."

She did. As she noticed someone's coming in, she assumed it was him and spoke right away: "She's a writer, isn't she?" "Uh well, you know. I'm trying!", Holly answered. "Not just trying. I'm sure you have published some novels but not under your real name. You've written at least 5 novels, 3 of them are sequels."

"Oh, you're good", Holly praised. "She's a former spy. She's the best", Rumlow came in with some cups and plates. "Oh come on, that was easy. Her books were the only ones near her desk and the only ones that stood in the right order. I was only guessing." "No you weren't. Come, have a seat. I'll bring the coffee."

Natasha and Holly sat on the sofa. Holly inspected Natasha blatantly but was wearing a friendly smile. "So, you two work together?" "Yes, we're in the same unit." "For how long have you been dating?" "Oh, that's difficult, it was kind of a on-off- thing." "Until it wasn't… classic."

Rumlow was standing in the doorway. It was nice being here. With her. And she did very well. Not that he had expected anything less. His mother was curious and bombing Nat with questions. He was also curious how some of her answers would be.

"I'm so glad that Brock has finally found someone. He is always working. So it's only naturally that you two met at work. I guess he wouldn't find a girl in the real world. I'm sorry if I'm too nosy, it's a writer's disease. I must know anything and a good love story is gold."

The two women had something in common. Their love for books. "I didn't even know you could read." "Brock! Don't be rude!"

They decided to take a walk to the lake. It was kind of odd, being free from work, not carrying a gun or at least a knife, wearing casual clothes.

It was mild, not too hot and very nice. Natasha took a good look at her surroundings. She never had been to a place like this. The shore was crowded by people who were doing standup-paddeling, canoeing or getting their sailing boats ready. Or some were fishing, children played in the sand, building castles. In fact, the little town was peaceful but lively.

She sat down on a free bench. "Want some ice-cream?", he asked and pointed over to a stand. "Oh yes." "What do you like?"

He handed her a cone and sat next to her. "Okay, that is officially the weirdest thing I've ever done. And I know Clint Barton." "Eating ice-cream on the lake shore?" "Eating ice cream on a lake shore with a man I would have killed without hesitation a few months earlier while visiting his mum." He laughed and she quickly looked at him from the side, grateful she was wearing her glasses. She liked it when he smiled out laughed and it was something she wasn't getting to see often. But on the other hand; it had happened more often lately. And even she caught herself smiling more.

"It's beautiful", he said. "It really is." She felt a tension in her body. She wanted to touch him. And she could. Nobody knew them, they were free. She had had this feeling since their were on the road. She had wanted to hold his hand while he was driving. Just hold it and never let go while talking shit. He was tensed too, she knew him enough by now to notice. But he was also holding back.

There never were stolen kisses or secret touches. It wasn't for them. That's what she thought. But now she longed for that. It was different being at work or being here. So she decided to give in.

Her left hand shoved under his and their fingers tangled. Peacefully, they ate their cones while watching the water. Rumlow eventually laid his arm around her.

"Can we please forget that we are anti-terror agents who are supposed to hate each other and just be normal people for a few hours?", he said with a sigh. "I don't know how to be normal. But I'll try."

Their lips found each other. Still cold from the ice-cream and tasting heavenly sweet.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #brock rumlow #nathasha Romanoff x brock Rumlow #flufftober2022 #fluff #meeting the parents #day 2

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jonniechill · 1 year

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🔥 over the garden wall! c:

Send Me a 🔥+ a Topic, and I’ll Tell You My Honest Opinion About It

it's really good! and i think because it's so good i don't have that many thoughts about it. i binged it all once a couple of years ago and haven't really had an inkling to revisit it since, but maybe one day.

one huge thing i love about OTGW is the fact it is whole heartedly an american fairy tale. i think it captures the spirit of something like the wizard of oz (the book moreso than the movie, but still) incredibly well, and perhaps even better than something on the page can. i think for something to be "american" it has to be new in some way... and what's more "new media" than animation for television? that in tandem with all its other wonderful elements i think makes it such an effective story. the medium absolutely helps convey it to the fullest extent!

#ask

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megan-is-mia · 3 years

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Can I request Rook beig rejected by reader because reader think he is too good for him, like saying "You are beautiful and everything but I prefer someone who is more at my level...a low level"?

Thank you!♡♡

(So I noticed you used purely masculine pronouns in this request so I assumed the reader is also a boy and he’s being flirted with by Rook. I apologize if you wanted a cute girl getting harassed by Rook cause its a cute boy being harassed instead) Custom Line: “You are beautiful and everything but I prefer someone who is more at my level...a low level" (Yandere! Rook Hunt x Male! S/o)

Rejection was not an experience that Rook Hunt was wholly unfamiliar with. Things didn’t always go his way true. But more often than not when it came to love, rarely had he felt the sting of being turned down. He knew he was attractive, he knew that he could make almost anyone in this school go weak in the knees with just a little of his roguish charm. With a few well-chosen words and touches he could have someone practically eating out of the palm of his hand if he wished. So that's why the awkward laugh and bashful expression (Y/n) gave him after he’d professed his love for the other boy hurt so much. Rook had been planning this for days no weeks, determined to make his confession as romantic as possible so that the younger male would have no choice but to accept his feelings. The blonde had written, rewritten, and thrown away so many poems about how enchanting he found every aspect of (Y/n) to be. How he could and had spent hours in silent adoration of him. How he’d agonized over flower arrangements, refusing to settle for a run of the mill bouquet of red roses for his beloved. No, Rook wanted the flowers he gave to (Y/n) to be just as exquisite as he was. Each bloom was individually selected for its color and meaning until it was perfect as the person who’d be receiving it. By the end of his planning, the blonde had no doubt in his mind that the other boy would whole-heartedly reciprocate his feelings and that they’d become a couple. Which is why it came as such a blow that (Y/n) was averting his eyes and fidgeting nervously after hearing what Rook had to say. The younger male’s laughter usually brought a smile to the hunter’s lips but right now the sound only made his insides clench up in despair. “Great Seven wow... I had no idea you felt that way about me Vice-Prefect Hunt” (Y/n) finally said, breaking the awkward silence that had descended once he’d stopped fake laughing to hide his alarm at the seemingly impromptu declaration of love. “Really I’m flattered that you’d even think of me as potential boyfriend material. But I’m gonna have to say no, for obvious reasons” (Y/n) went on with another forced laugh as he shifted from one leg to the other. “You are beautiful and everything but I prefer someone who is more at my level...a low level you know someone actually in my league and stuff” the boy added not realizing that every word he spoke pierced Rook’s heart with the accuracy of a well-aimed arrow. “After all, you don’t hear fairy tales that end with the handsome prince and the ugly servant boy living happily ever after together, it's the handsome prince and the beautiful princess who live out that lovely dream. As it should be” (Y/n) finished and reached over to pat Rook’s shoulder with a consoling look in his eyes as the bouquet of flowers fell from the blonde’s slack grip. The next thing the younger boy knew the wind was being knocked out of him and he was pinned against a nearby wall by the older male. “Non, I must disagree with you” Rook said, his voice chillingly calm as he held (Y/n) in place. “Who told you that you were ugly? Tell me so I can punish them properly for that offense” he added with a deep frown, the knowledge of his beloved not understanding his own beauty was enough to take much of the sting of rejection away at least for the moment. “If I say you’re beautiful, then you are most definitely beautiful Mon Amour” Rook finished pressing a light kiss to the corner of (Y/n)’s lips as he did so. “As for those outdated fairytales I say to hell with them. What do they know about anything? We can write our own story, one of a truly legendary romance that will be recounted for years to come. Now you can willingly help me write the tale or I can forcefully guide the pen in your hand. The choice is yours but you must make it” Rook said his eyes almost glowing from the strength of his delusions. If (Y/n) had hoped there’d be a way to resolve this peacefully that hope was gone after one look into the hunter’s lovesick eyes. “Vice-prefect Hu—” whatever plea (Y/n) had planned on making was quickly cut off by the blonde abruptly and quite hungrily kissing him. The younger male was starting to see black spots from a lack of air when Rook finally pulled back and licked his lips. “—Mon Amour I’d much prefer if you called me by my first name since we’re dating now” the older boy said with a coo. (Y/n) blinked, not really comprehending what he was hearing and how easily Rook had disregarded his words. “So what shall we do for our first date? Perhaps a grand night out on the town so I can show off my adorable boyfriend to everyone and we can nip the complaints of any nay-sayers in the bud. Or maybe we could start small with Enchanflix and Chill to see where that takes us” the blonde said excitedly not really interested in receiving input from (Y/n) other than an obedient nod or shake of the head when appropriate. This was not looking to be a fairytale ending for poor (Y/n)... THE END

#Yandere Rook Hunt #Rook Hunt #Yandere TWST #TWST #Yandere Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland

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baixueagain · 4 years

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I haven't read hp in a long time, so I may be wrong. But wasn't the thing about house-elves wanting to stay slaves also a critic of Hermione's behavior and how she thought that just she was doing the right thing in her mindset didn't mean it was the same thing for the people concerned, and that she was basically trampling over them to "enlighten" them?

Yeahhhh the house elf thing is...well, honestly I don’t actually think it’s nearly as bad as people say it is. The metaphor she’s using is (like the werewolf thing) insensitive and could’ve been handled way, way better, but the fundamental message of it isn’t actually that controversial or hideous.

First of all, there’s the whole idea that JKR invented a race of slaves. I’m leery of this statement, because throughout HP, especially in the early books when house elves are introduced, JKR plays a lot with classic folklore. House elves/fairies, while not being as well-known in America, are a pretty common trope in European and British folklore. There are dozens of stories and legends and folk tales about how people can leave out butter or other things for the spirits of the house (often elves or fairies), and that in exchange the spirits would clean and do other chores for you. So JKR picked that up and ran with it, and asked, okay, what if those stories were real, but wizards figured out a way to manipulate that traditional exchange into a form of exploitation?

JKR pretty clearly problematizes what’s happened to the house elves from the get-go when we meet Dobby. Those who treat elves as subservient and inherently lesser are consistently portrayed as straight up evil (Lucius Malfoy, the Ministry statue, etc). Harry isn’t actually that dismissive of Hermione’s views, either. He wrestles with it, too, and feels distinctly uncomfortable, but for some time he doesn’t really seem to know what else to do except to go along with it - which, while not a good thing, is a completely normal reaction for a young teenager to have when faced with that kind of situation. Furthermore, while in general house elves are “said” to be happy with their situation, the two major house elf characters (Dobby and Kreacher) are portrayed as distinctively unhappy about it from the moment of their introduction, though Kreacher has clearly internalised things. Even Sirius’s mistreatment of Kreacher is portrayed as a massive flaw in his character and a giveaway that he’s not exactly the perfect Cool Uncle Type that we originally see him as. Finally, don’t forget that one of the most triumphant moments of DH is Kreacher getting fed the fuck up with the way he’s been treated all his life and leading what amounts to a house elf revolution against those who would keep house elves completely and utterly subservient for the rest of time.

As for Hermione, IMO she’s portrayed as having her heart in the right place but going about things all wrong, to the point that her ignorance about the situation becomes comedic. Which...honestly, that comes across as a pretty apt criticism of the “saviour” types who really sincerely do want to fix the world but end up just talking over the people they’re trying to help - and ultimately pushing those people away.

JKR never actually questions whether or not slavery is a moral evil. What is questioned, however, is this: when someone in an unhappy situation says that they’re happy, how far can and should we go to help them without it becoming a violation of their consent and free will? And that’s not at all a new question in fantasy and sci-fi. Star Trek has asked it. Doctor Who has asked it. Even the Hitchhikers Guide books have asked it.

Example: I have women relatives who truly sincerely and whole-heartedly believe that women were put on this earth to be subservient to men. They were raised to believe this and have never questioned it. If you asked them if they’re happy, they’d say yes, and tbh, I believe them: they are lucky enough that the men they’ve married are legitimately kind and loving husbands. However, I still find their situation to be morally abhorrent and I fundamentally disagree with how they view femininity and marriage. So what can I do? I’ve had arguments with them about it, and they won’t budge. I’ve tried to expose them to literature on women’s liberation and they dismiss it. In fact, it’s only made them get defensive and dig in their heels, because they resented me telling them that their worldview was an unhealthy and wrong one. Who was I, after all, to tell them that they were wrong to be happy with their lives? Am I supposed to end their marriages by force and strong-arm them into feminism, or is that in and of itself a violation of their consent and free will?

There’s no easy answers to those questions. There never has been and never will be. And I think that’s what Rowling was attempting to wrestle with. Did she do it clumsily? Yes. Should she have chosen a different metaphor other than slavery? Very probably. Is it open to criticism? Yes again. Has she written other cringe-worthily bad and ignorant things into HP? Absolutely - Cho Chang is the shining example, IMO, though there are plenty more.

However, I also think it’s extremely disingenuous to paint the house elf plotline as promoting/condoning slavery, telling people that they should be content with their lot in life, or mocking those who try to challenge the status quo. That reading of HP ignores a metric shitload of evidence to the contrary, especially in the later books. And while I love literary criticism and think there’s plenty to be criticised in the HP books, this is one of those things that I truly do believe is not only unfair, but the product of extremely selective reading.

#jkr #jk rowling #house elves #harry potter #meta

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patelkhushin · 3 years

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🚨 ‼️ATTENTION ACOTAR FANS. ESPECIALLY AZRIEL FANS. I JUST HAD A MIND BLOWING REALIZATION!! 🚨 ‼️

I’m standing in the shower this morning and I realize this. SJM likes to base her books off of fairy tales. ACOTAR was a complex “Beauty and the Beast” retelling. And that got me thinking… is there chance of another retelling? Not a whole different series, but a retelling in ACOTAR from another’s perspective. We’ve gotten Feyre and Rhysand’s perspective in the first 4 books. Then we get ACOSF focused around Nesta and Cassian. I haven’t quite figured out the fairytale retelling for Nessian (if anyone has any ideas let me know). BUT, SJM says that she’s most likely going to be writing a book based off of Azriel (and whoever his mate/love interest is). Lemme get to the point. This is gonna make the Elriel shippers happy. Thanks to the fact that Sarah’s writing patterns show a lot of retelling, why wouldn’t Azriel’s story be one. Not a fairy tale per se. But a mythological love story? If you can’t already guess what I’m getting at, I mean the Hades x Persephone trope/story. Az is Hades and Elain is Persephone. And who’s Demeter? LUCIEN. IT WOULD MAKE SO MUCH SENSE. LUCIEN SEES ELAIN AS HIS. THEY HAVE A FRIENDLY RELATIONSHIP AND THEN AZ COMES INTO THE EQUATION. HE MAKES A DEAL OR SOMETHING AND HE GETS ELAIN. Hades thought he was entitled to Persephone and so does Az (one thing I HATE that he thinks). It would make so much sense. Azriel is a dark, sexy, shadowy, man of little words like Hades. He’s described as a version of death. He’s scarred like Hades. AND WAIT I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING. AZRIELS HALF BROTHERS DONT LIKE HIM. HADES’S BROTHERS DONT LIKE HIM. ELAIN IS SPRING, FLOWERS, LIFE. PERSEPHONE IS TOO. SO HONESTLY I JUST HAD A WORLD BREAKING REALIZATION. SO IS ELRIEL ENDGAME? I THINK SO. IT HONESTLY MAKES NO DIFFERENCE TO ME BUT TO WHOEVER SHIPS THESE TWO WHOLE HEARTEDLY HERE YA GO. YOURE WELCOME.

#rhysand #night court #feyre #nesta archeron #azriel #acosf #nessian #nesta x cassian #elain archeron #elain is my queen #hades x persephone #omfg i cant #i’m so smart #wtf wtf wtf #i can’t believe it #cassian #elriel #azriel x elain

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winter-fox-queen · 3 years

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We All Deserve a Fairy Tale Chapter 5

Warnings: Here be smut, my loves. Minors be gone, because it is explicit. First time writing smut, so I hope it works.

Frankie x female blank slate, use of first person. I think there is cursing.

Frankie ghosts you, then something happens to change it…

Thanks to @sharkbait77 and @hnt-escape If you want on my tag list, tell me. :)

I waited a week. A week and a half. And I broke down, finally, and texted.

Got the edits back for my next book. I hate this part.

After a moment, a reply. You got this.

Hope? Maybe? Or was he just being nice?

I responded anyway.

Maybe we can go out and see that movie tonight? Have dinner? A little fun before I chain myself to the computer?

No response.

I waited a day, but my stomach churned the whole time.

I texted again, after getting myself good and wound up. You don’t owe me any explanations. But please respect me enough not to ghost me. You’re not interested in me, that’s fine. But don’t leave me dangling. You’re better than that.

I hit send, regretted it immediately.

Your right. What’s your address?

“Shit. Shit. What have I done?” I whispered as I typed it to him.

About five away. K?

Yeah. Thanks.

I ran back inside the house and straightened myself up. Military minutes must be shorter than civilian minutes because I heard him pull up sooner than I was ready.

I went outside, to the back yard. I waved at him, half heartedly. He shoved his hands in his pockets and came over.

“Hey.” He gave me a soft smile. Everything about him was guarded. OK. Well, I asked him to come over and officially tell me to take a hike, so, I guess I deserved it.

“Frankie, I…”

“No. I, uh.” He looked at the ground between our feet. It was more dirt than grass. “Man, you weren’t kidding about this place being a wasteland.”

I laughed despite the rock in my gut.

He looked up at me, a little sideways. “Let me say my piece and go, OK?”

I hugged myself, and nodded.

“I like you.” He said so quietly that I had to lean closer to hear him. “Like you more than I’ve liked anyone for a long time. And I mean that. But wanting you in my life doesn’t mean I get to. I’ve killed — “

I started to object, say something about the army and of course he did and he did what he had to…

He saw it and said, firmly, “No.”

I closed my mouth and he nodded. “No. I’m talking about…less than a year ago. Some friends and I went on a mission. We said it was to help stop a major drug dealer but it was just…” He’s breathing a little heavier, now. Unable to look at me, rubbing the palms of his hands on his thighs.

“People died.” He looks at me, then, the anguish in his eyes, the guilt. “My own fucking actions lead to one of my best friends getting killed. If I hadn’t taken that shot. If I hadn’t wrecked the fucking chopper…”

He steps forward and takes my hands in his. They’re clammy, shaking. “The mail you saw, it was a reminder. My friend’s widow, she’s angry and looking for answers and she doesn’t want any of us to be happy. And she’s right.”

I try to find words. I feel like I’m in a cave in, trying to scramble over rocks and debris.

“I don’t deserve to be happy, and I don’t deserve you.” He touches my cheek for a second, a butterfly landing and running away. “I’m gonna go now, I’m gonna block your number.”

He kisses me. His lips are hot. When he steps back, I say, “So you’re not going to give me a choice?”

“Why would you want one?” His voice is incredulous. There’s an echo, under his words, I can see it in his eyes, in the frustrated way he throws his hands out. Why would you want me?

I shook my head. “You say you like me, but you want to close yourself off? Not give me a chance to get to know you, help you if I can?”

“It’s for the best. You see that, right?” There’s a desperate edge.

I shake my head. Everything that can possibly hurt does. I’m supposed to be so good at words, and I can’t find the right ones, the ones to reel him back in.

He adjusts his hat. “No, you don’t. I love your books, but they are fairy tales. You can’t make a good man out of a monster. It’s not how the world works.”

“You’re not a monster.”

He’s all twitchiness now, looking at his truck, desperate to get out of this situation. It makes me mad, how badly he wants to go. How I know I can’t fix this. “Don’t bother blocking my number.” I say, as I turn on my heel. “I won’t bother you again.”

He whispers my name and it is so pained that I almost turn around. But I don’t.

***

I don’t block his number. I can’t. I focus on work. My job that lets me eat work. My book. My hands shake on the keyboard, sometimes, as I try to make the story mine again. It’s hard to write a love story, even one with murder and mystery, when your own heart is broken.

It was ridiculous. I didn’t even know him that long, but the loss of him hurt. It made the story feel pointless. What right did I have to sell these lies? To make people believe in love and romance and happily ever after when you can meet someone so amazing and wonderful, and have to watch him walk away?

I kept working. I’d get over it. I had to. It’s not like I’d built anything with him. I was just aching for the possibilities — the things I tortured myself about. The things I imagined I m might have lost, with Frankie.

And damn it, I missed him.

But life continues. And sink faucets wear out, making you have to run to the local home improvement store, wandering the isles with an armload of new faucet, fittings, plumbers tape and everything else the YouTube videos I’d consulted said I would need.

The universe has decided that I have not suffered enough, because I can see him, Frankie Morales in the flesh, frowning at the back of a box like its his greatest enemy. He was in the home security section.

I could sneak by. He was way too interested in what he was holding in those lovely, large hands of his. I dashed by, head down, determined to just get past him, but some lady with a cart pushed past me at the same time, and my arm load of stuff got jostled. I was able to save the most expensive bit — the faucet in its box, the long flexible connection thingies — but the plumbers tape, in its plastic hard shell donut jumped out, fell onto the floor, and rolled right over to a well worn work boot. Spun like a top. Settled right against his toe. I looked up, too nervous to enjoy the view (much) and right into his eyes. His lips were parted, like he was a little surprised to see me.

“Hey.” I said, and then, because I didn’t know what else to do, I turned and fled back the way I came. I knew where the plumbers tape was, I could just go get another…

“Hey. Wait a second.”

I stopped, took a breath, smiled like everything was perfectly normal.

He held up the white plastic Judas. “Um…your faucet break?” And then he winced. “I mean, obviously. Um.” He placed the tape on top of my pile delicately. He was holding a box in both hands tight enough to warp the cardboard.

“It’s old. I thought I would try my hand at replacing it…can’t be that hard.”

“No, but plumbing can be really picky if you’ve never done it…”

“Don’t offer.” I whisper it desperately, before I can even think about it. I can tell he’s working himself up to it, and the thought of him in my house is like a punch ion the guts.

“It wouldn’t be a problem.” His dark eyes study my face. Sad. A little desperate. For a second I think, maybe he misses me, too.

“No. I got it.” I say softly, looking at the floor again.

“Do you still have my number? If you change your mind?”

I nod at the container. “Go back to your project, Frankie. I can handle this on my own.”

Did you know, plumbing is an utter bitch?

Throw in some more curse words in the last sentence. I certainly used every one I could.

Two hours later, I get a text.

Frankie: How did it go?

I want to sob. Instead, I put myself together and write a fairly moderate response:

Me: I have decided that I will now do my dishes in the bathroom sink. Who needs a sink in the kitchen? A total waste.

Frankie: The offer is still open?

Me: How did you know? Did you just look at me and think, she is too inept to be able to do this herself?

Frankie: No. I don’t think that at all.

Frankie: Let me help? Please?

Me: Since you said please, I guess I can allow you to come rescue me.

Frankie: OMW.

I looked at the time, and decided to order pizza. It was only fair.

Twenty minutes later he’s under the sink. “You did a good job. I think maybe you just cross threaded it…”

“Oh, no…did I ruin the threads?”

“It’s probably OK. I’ll just use a lot of tape…”

And he does some magical things with a wrench and the bright pink tape, which he wraps around the threads to make them more water tight. I try not to admire his long legs or the rest of him, spread out on my kitchen floor, as he half lays in the bottom of the sink.

The doorbell rings, and I go pay for the pizza, and when I come back he’s turned on the water, and he’s kneeing in front of the open sink bottom, using a paper towel to see if he can find any leaks.

“It looks OK?” I ask tentatively.

“Yep…you really did have it done mostly. Just that one spot.”

“Thanks,” I say awkwardly. “I bought us dinner?”

“You are awesome.” He does a quick but of clean up so he can shut the sink doors and washes his hands in the newly repaired sink. He tosses his hat onto the end of the island, and I want to run my fingers through his hair. He does it for me, absentmindedly pushing the hair off his forehead.

We sit on either side of my kitchen island, sharing pizza. I don’t know what to say.

“It’s a nice apartment.” He said quietly, picking up another slice.

“It’s cheap, not far from my day job. It works.” I shove a hunk of crust in my mouth to stop myself from saying anything else. I knew this would be bad. Here he is, sitting a few inches away. I could touch him, but I’m not allowed. It’s a rotten feeling, wanting something and not being allowed to have it. To feel his fingers wrap around mine. To have that easy, happy camaraderie again.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, when the silence gets too much.

He shakes his head. Wads up his napkin. Puts his plate in the sink. Locates the trash. Such a good guest.

“I shouldn’t have come. But I wanted to see you.” He said this quietly, as if he isn’t sure he should admit it.

“Well, if you hadn’t, I’d still be under the sink wondering why the damned fittings are still leaking.”

He gives me a gentle smile. “You would have been ok.”

“Lucky I didn’t block your number, huh?”

He smiles and kneels down, picking up tools and putting them back in the box. Sorting his from mine.

“It was nice of you to come help me? I might be a bit snarky, but I really am grateful for the help.”

“I was happy to. Where do you keep these?” I took my tools off him, put them and the plumber’s tape in my tool drawer.

“But why? Why were you happy to help? Why did you want to see me? You couldn’t leave here quickly enough the other day…” I smile to take the sting out. “Not that I blame you, the yard is a hot mess.”

He touches my face gently. “Hush.” I stop my babbling, lean into his touch.

“You asked me a question, awhile back.” I muzzle his hand. “I never got to answer it.”

“What was that?”

“You asked me if I wanted you. And I do. Very much.”

He made a huffing sound, as if he had been gut punched, and then, slowly, slowly, leaned in and kissed me. “I miss you,”. He whispers between kisses, his hands framing my face like I’m a delicate thing. “I miss you when I wake up. I miss you when I lay down to sleep. I miss you when I’m driving.” And each sentence he punctuates, gently, with a kiss, to my forehead, to my nose, to my mouth. “I barely know you, but you are already woven into my thoughts…”

I’m holding him tight, kissing him back. I bump my nose against his, sweetly, and I saw, “Then why? Why stay away?”

He pulls back as far as I’ll let him, sits down again. I see the ghosts in his eyes again, and I remember the lyrics from a song I used to love, “There’s ghosts in your eyes, they cry when you smile…”

“I shouldn’t have come…I’m a train wreck waiting to happen.”

“No, not if you’re just going to push me away again. That’s cruel. I never thought you’d be cruel, Francisco Morales.”

He winces like I punched him.

“If it’s too soon to tell me, that’s fine. Just push it aside until you trust me. Or until it matters. I don’t care about your past, what you’ve done. I know you well enough to know you did what you had to do at the time.” I give in to the longing to touch him, I run my fingers lightly through the curls at his temple before letting my hand drop. He’s watching me like a landmine he’s stepped on. His fingers ghost over my hips. Grip them gently. Pulls me between his thighs. Now it’s my turn to be wary, as he pulls me close. His dark, liquid eyes study my face, I can almost hear him weighing and sorting. Lay your secrets on me, beautiful man. I want to tell him. But I wait. I wait until his large hands encompass me, run over my waist, the softness over my ribs, glide up the sides of my breasts so softly I am not even sure he touched me, to cup my face.

“I want to be who you think I am,” he says, and I smile gently.

A decision is made, in those fathomless eyes. And he leans close, and he kisses me again. The last kisses were loving. This kiss is passionate. Deep. So full of longing I could cry. I let my lips part and his tongue traces, licks inside. I make a little sound and grab his wrists, pushing them aside so I can wrap my arms around him, if I could meld myself to him, I would have then, melted inside of him like gold, fixing his cracks.

He stands, the stool scraping against the floor. The sound is jarring, lifts me out of the lust sodden moment. “If you want me, baby, you have me,” he says in that rough honey voice of him. “Show me the way.”

I take one of his hands in both of mine, I kiss each knuckle. I’d been playing with the idea, and now here I was. I could still say no. I could slow things down, I could be sensible.

But I’d never wanted anything so deeply, so profoundly, as I wanted him. Every time I touched his skin, I felt like something lost had been returned to me.

I smiled a little at him, and backed away, pulling him with me. “This way, sweetheart.”

His lips are on mine the second we cross into my bedroom. Once Frankie Morales makes a decision, he is all in. His hand cups the back of my head, holding me so he can kiss me, his tounge sliding against mine as his other hand slips under my shirt. I pull back and tug at his shirt. “Off.” I command, and he grins and sheds it. My shirt and my bra join it on the floor. I press my breasts to the warm smoothness of his chest. I run my hands over his ribs, his stomach, as his mouth claims mine again. His skin is soft and warm, strong muscles flexing under my hands. I kiss along his jawline, I lick and kiss the constellation of freckles on the side of his neck. He moans softly in approval as I nip and kiss my way to his shoulder.

His own hands slip up to my breasts, weighing them in his hands, squeezing gently. He runs his thumb over one nipple, then bends to lick the other into his mouth, sucking gently, his tounge flicking at the hard peak. His freehand is splayed against the small of my back, holding me in place. Pleasure shoots through me, and all I can do is cling to him. He lets me go and pushes me gently. I fall back onto my bed, tearing at the button on my pants, needing to get everything off, needing to feel his skin, his warmth, his strength and softness.

“Condoms?” He asks, one knee on the bed. “I didn’t think…”

I shook my head. “I’m on the pill?”

His eyes darken further, and he asks, “Are you sure?”

I nod and hold out my arms, and he gives me the sweetest smile. He stands up again and undoes his pants, sliding them off, and he’s naked and beautiful and I just want him wrapped around me. He slips into my arms and kisses me again, his arms holding him over me. He gives me a little of his weight, grounding me. It feels so good, skin sliding against skin, warmth against warmth,

His slips a hand between us, and I clench at the thought of him touching me just as he slides two thick fingers between my folds, rubbing my clit gently, exploring me. “So wet.” He whispers, kissing my temple. “So soft.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “So hot.” And his takes my lips again, his fingers rubbing my clit, making me shake with building pleasure. “I want to taste you, sweetheart. I want to make you come on my tounge…can I, baby?”

I nod. I don’t know who can resist that voice, rough with lust and promise? He kisses his way down and I spread my legs wider, and he gently licks — a test lick, from my entrance to my clit. He licks my clit, hard, with short licks before drawing me into his mouth and sucking me. He is fervent, as he works, and I can’t think about anything but the heat of his mouth. As the pressure and pleasure builds, I’m making the most needy sounds, unable to control myself. His slips one finger in, then a second, exploring, touching, then another, stretching and reaching for that spot. The rippling explosion leaves me shamelessly arching into his mouth, crying out his name like a prayer.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, kissing the inside of my thigh, rubbing his beard against the soft skin.

He comes up to kneel between by thighs. His eyes meet mine as I struggle to compose myself, and his hand gently comes up to very gently lay across my throat, his thumb tracing my chin.

“Are you sure? Where do you want me to come?”

I nod frantically. “Please, baby, I want you. Inside me, please…”

His hand slips away from my throat to rest on the bed above my shoulder, and I miss the warmth of it as he gently strokes my skin, settling his hand on my thigh. He takes his cock into his hand, stroking it before rubbing it against my clit, causing me to whimper. He runs the head of it up and down a few times, his eyes slipped closed, his jaw going slack, that lush lower lip parting. I wish I had a picture…he was beautiful. Skin made gold by the fading light, thighs splayed under mine. I felt the head of his cock in my entrance, and he pressed in, a slow hot stretch until he was sheathed completely.

“Oh, fuck.” He whispered. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

He lowered himself back on top of me. “You feel so huge inside me, baby,” I whisper in his ear. “You feel like heaven. Please…fuck me, honey. Please…” And he started moving, slow at first, the changing the angle and speeding up. With every thrust he pressed against something that felt so good…I was seeing the proverbial stars as he gasped in my ear, making soft sounds of pleasure every time he slammed home. I nipped at his shoulder, and he was looking down at me, dark eyes studying me.

“Frankie, I…I can’t think, I don’t know what to do…”

“Don’t think. Just let me take care of you. It’s all I want to do…” He captures my mouth in a sloppy kiss. “Just let go.”

And I do. I cry out his name as he continues to move, the friction making my high last. He speeds up, and I cup his face in shaking hands.

“You’re so beautiful. I want to feel you come, Frankie, honey, come for me.”

He moved to kiss the palm of my hand, then his eyes squeeze shut as he finds his own release. I can feel it, spilling hot inside of me. I welcome him as he lowers himself down completely, unable to stay up on his forearms any longer. He tried to shift off, but I cling to him. I welcome his weight. His strength.

I don’t want to let go. I never want to let him go.

#frankie morales x reader #Frankie Morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #SMUT #My Fic

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miracle-sham · 3 years

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Stitch Your Ragged Wings and Hope to Soar.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 1, Day 5: Fairytales} |

| The folk tales always speak of those destined for greatness. Heroes alongside their faithful dragons, fighting the ever turning tides against evil. But they're just that, folk tales. After all, what are the chances a border-town apprentice seamstress like Marinette, would ever be offered a different vocation by the recruitment guild. |

| Word Count: 3,428. |

| Warnings/Tags: Kingdom/Fantasy/No Miraculous/Dragon Riders Au, Minor Lila & Adrien salt, Canon Typical lies and manipulation from Lila, Explicit Language/Swearing, and Some Fluff. |

———

| A/N: First things first, the word 'Dragoon' will be used multiple times in this piece and it is spelled that way on purpose (see end notes for further explanation). Secondly, yep! It's a dragon riding/academy au. This is the first piece of the series, which I'm really excited for because I've spent ages worldbuilding for! And for anyone worried about salt mention, it is addressed in this piece but the tag is there because of canon-typical Lila manipulation and lies, plus no Miraculous means no reason for Adrien with his sheltered upbringing to realise she's lying. |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

It's been a few days of tense stagecoach travel. And to be fair to Marinette, even she hadn't expected to be declared in the middle of the town square as showing aptitude for a position within the Justice League's armée volante—specifically the dragoon squadrons—thanks to the recruitment guild no less.

Unfortunately, Adrien and Lila had also shown an aptitude. Which, seeing as they all come from the same border-town of Paris, meant they were all trapped inside the same cramped coach space for the excruciating four days journey to reach Gotham Town; the place where they are being sent to attend the dragoon academy, which is technically outside the bounds of the town proper. Seeing as the Gotham Dragoon Academy and Somerset Dragon Range are on the opposite shores of the Gotham river to the town itself.

There's only another half-day until they reach the Mooney bridge and then the Somerset

Dragon Ranges. And luckily, Adrien and Lila have taken to sitting on the same bench, the one facing forwards. Leaving the opposite bench all for Marinette.

Not that having a whole bench to myself for this time will help with whether I can continue to survive as a captive audience for Lila. Marinette thinks to herself, rather disgruntled about this whole situation she's unwillingly ended up in. She was perfectly happily remaining an apprentice seamstress, sewing commissions for Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and the rest of her famous or otherwise clientele, not that fate seemed to care though. Of course, a part of her stipulation she fought the recruiters for, is that along with her studies she can continue her commissions for current and prior clientele alone. Which is to say, better than being completely unable to continue her main hobby and form of stress relief.

The recruiters had also said that baking and cooking would be no problem to practice, as apparently there'll be free reign to "student kitchens" alongside cooking classes so any use of either skill will be "undoubtedly encouraged". Dangerous words, Marinette muses to herself once more, because if I get claimed by a dragon the first thing I'm doing is baking all the dragon dietary-safe treats I can!

“Marinette! What do you think?” Lila asks, voice as cloying as ever.

Marinette startles and half-heartedly smiles awkwardly across at her, “ah, I'm really sorry Lila! I got distracted wondering what kind all of our dragons might end up being and how they might look!” Not, I'm going to love mine regardless of appearance unlike you.

Smiling faux-sweetly, Lila shakes her head. “Don't worry Marinette, I was only saying how we're just like those local fairytales of your town! Three close-knit friends who become powerful and famous dragoon guardians and save the world from the evil destruction of Hawkmoth and his army of shadow dragons! Out of the three of us, I would be our leader, obviously. Since I'm the only one here descended from a dragoon guardian! My grandmother even gave me a token that once belonged to my dragoon guardian ancestor!”

“Wow, you've said it before but I still can't believe how incredible you are Lila! It's going to be amazing training besides you at the academy!” Adrien gushes, gazing at Lila with adoration.

Lila preens at his words. “Thank you, Adrien! But Marinette, since you mentioned what our dragons will be, did you know my ancestor's dragon was said to be the most beautiful of all the dragons in the Justice League squadrons! My ancestor's dragon had orange scales that glimmered red and yellow like flames, and pearlescent white scales along the underbelly. Oh, and the horns were pearlescent white too! Obviously, the dragon I'll get is sure to be a descendant of that dragon and just as beautiful.”

“Wow, no wonder your ancestor's dragon was the most beautiful, they sound absolutely gorgeous! What kind of dragon do you think I'll get, Lila?” Adrien asks, eyes shining with awe and curiosity.

She puts on a show of holding her chin and humming. “Hmm, probably a golden dragon, with shiny scales as bright as the sun!”

“I hope you're right!” Adrien chuckles, “the fairy tales really would be coming true if we both get the dragons you think we will! One with scales of fire, another with scales of gold!”

“It really would.” Marinette echoes weakly, not really believing in her own words.

Lila laughs, “awww don't sound so worried Marinette, your dragon will probably be a plain and drab dragon with some sort of shade of brown, or maybe even grey. But at least it won't be attention-grabbing. So you won't need to worry about people staring and judging or dragons-forbid trying to hurt you for having a prettier dragon than any nobles!”

Marinette smiles, though it turns out far more grimace-like than intended, whoops. “Yeah… that'd be awful. Haha, I'd be really lucky to get a dragon like you described for me, Lila.”

“Oh, I'm so glad you understand, Marinette! Then again, all three of us are besties so of course you'd understand!” Lila titters, crossing her fingers, “we're just like this!”

Screaming internally, Marinette nods and keeps smiling. Dragons-almighty, I'm at the end of my thread here. Hopefully, I'll be able to leave Lila's "friendship" behind at the academy without fear of mine and my parent's reputations being ruined by Lila's mother.

Her attention is briefly taken by the rolling view outside the stagecoach, unable to help herself she mumbles to herself, “the landscape here is so pretty.”

“It is pretty I guess, but not as pretty as my home country!” Lila pipes up, jumping on the new conversation—like a shadow dragon on a sheep.

Marinette shuts her eyes for a second and breathes deeply, chanting internally. The academy will be my fresh start.

———

The academy is not in fact Marinette's fresh start.

It is well past evenfall by the time their stagecoach passes through the gates of the imposing academy. It rounds a large fountain in the centre of the courtyard with a statue of a person encircled by a large dragon. However, due to the darkness and the movements of the stagecoach, any attempts at recognising whom the statue was dedicated after are thoroughly hampered. They roll to a stop before the great stone staircase—where a figure with a smaller giant rat-like creature beside them, is waiting at the top—which clearly leads to the grand front doors of the academy.

Even with the darkness obscuring the view, it's obvious that the academy is a repurposed castle. High stone walls with crenellations and littered towers, a main keep with a multitude of buildings surrounding the inner courtyard. And the most eye-catching of all, the shadowy draconic gargoyles that seem to cling and lurk upon every building.

It's impressive to say the least, certainly the most well-fortified building Marinette has ever stepped foot in her life. Impressive enough that it has her practically clawing to pull out a sketching journal and start creating. However, she's not stupid enough to do that within Lila's presence. No, that'd undoubtedly lead to honey-coated lies and being forced to listen to her prattle on about her wondrous skills and connections to the most prestigious fashion guild in the country.

Marinette startles as the stagecoach door is opened by a footman. She doesn't fuss as Lila exits first, followed by Adrien. As she steps outside last, she nods and smiles at the footman. Whispering as audibly as she can without the other two hearing, she adds, “thank you, sir.”

The footman simply glances at her attire and nods back stiffly.

In the time it's taken to all leave the stagecoach, the figure from the stairs has walked over—a woman with long blonde hair dressed in a casual black leather riding coat, and a not-dog following behind loyally. “Good evening, you must be the potential students from the town of Paris?”

Marinette hesitates for a second before nodding along with Adrien and Lila.

Lila takes a step forwards, towards the woman. “Yes, we are! I'm Lila Rossi.”

The woman nods slowly, “and the other two must be Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, correct?”

“That's correct!” Adrien responds with a bright smile.

Marinette nods and makes an affirmative squeak instead.

“Great.” The woman says, clapping her hands. “I'm Dinah Lance and I'll be one of your instructors during your attendance here. And this,” She pauses to point to the weird giant not-rat with its yellow flecked greyish-brown fur, “is Drake, he's my Ichneumon. You'll learn all about Ichneumon and why they're used within the dragoon squadron during your time here, so don't worry if you've never heard or seen of them before.”

Drake makes a high pitched trill and takes a few steps forward, sniffing the air in front of the three of them. Before scampering in a circle around Dinah Lance.

She smiles fondly at Drake before continuing. “Unfortunately it's a little late to give you the tour of the grounds now, so we'll cover that tomorrow. Tonight we'll guide you to the dining hall for a late night's meal since it's been a long journey for you three or so I've heard, and you must be starving. Then we'll discuss the main details of your attendance, and afterwards, we will show you to the temporary rooms you will be staying in, to begin with. Any questions?”

Lila rocks on the heels of her boots before shaking her head, “no, we've got no questions!”

Adrien copies with a shake of his head too.

Marinette opens her mouth to protest, were you waiting out in the cold for us long? Will the tour teach us about the different places within the academy? Will it take long? What do you mean by the main details? Why are we staying in temporary rooms to begin with? When do our lessons start? Do we need to purchase any uniforms or schooling supplies? When will we meet our dragons? Questions bubbling in her mind like a kettle over the fire, but closes her mouth just as quickly, as she catches a glare from Lila out of the corner of her eye. With that, she also briefly and nervously shakes her head. “N–no, no questions here either, Mlle Lance.”

Internally, Marinette hopes that display is enough to tide over Lila's irritation for now.

Mlle Lance glances over the three of them, seeming to stare at Marinette a little longer than the other two. “Well then, since there are no questions, let us head to the dining hall. And don't worry about your belongings, the footman will bring them to your lodgings.”

“Oh, Mlle Lance, I'd–uh… I'd rather not hassle the staff here, I can manage bringing my belongings up on my own.” Marinette admits, wringing her hands slightly.

Mlle Lance shakes her head, “that's very polite of you but I'm afraid, as you'll be having dinner and we'll be discussing details, it'll be a little while before you head to your temporary rooms. So it'll be far easier on both you and the staff here, if you allow them to do their job.”

“Okay…” Marinette relents easily, trying to ignore Lila rolling her eyes at her.

“If there are no more further questions, then follow after me please, the academy can be rather labyrinthine for those unfamiliar with its halls.” Mlle Lance instructs, already turning around and walking back towards the great stone staircase, Drake on her heels.

———

The journey through the hallways and various anterooms of the academy takes far longer than Marinette could have anticipated. On more than one occasion, she ends up falling behind due to getting distracted by the sheer amount of luxury, art, and finery everywhere. Forcing her to frantically scurry after Mlle Lance, Lila, and Adrien—all three who seem completely at home and unperturbed or uninterested by the décor, unlike her.

By the time they reach the large and ornately carved wooden doors leading to the dining hall, Marinette is flushed bright red from the embarrassment of having fallen behind so many times.

The heavy doors creak loudly as they slowly swing open at Mlle Lance's push, revealing a large dining hall—far larger than any Marinette has seen—with seemingly hundreds of wooden tables and benches. Startlingly enough, there's a boy already seated at one of the nearer benches—eating away at a trencher of hunter's stew.

No Ichneumon in sight, Marinette notes, a fellow student perhaps?

“Good evening, Jason, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be in here at the moment.” Mlle Lance greeted, nodding her head to him.

Jason squints at Mlle Lance and hunches his shoulders defensively. “B said I could grab food from here whenever I wanted.”

Mlle Lance smiles, “and that's perfectly fine. These are new arrivals, so I was just hoping to let them have some dinner without the usual chaos before going over the main details they'll need to know about attending here.” She paused for a moment. “You don't have to stay and listen if you don't want to, since you've heard this spiel many times now. But equally, feel free to stay, I'm sure it'd be nice for you and the new arrivals to get to know each other before meeting the rest of the class tomorrow.”

Jason slowly eyes Lila, Adrien, and Marinette. He places an arm in front of his trencher. “Might as well stay then I guess.”

Mlle Lance nods at him again before guiding the three of them over to the back of the dining hall where the kitchen was connected to. A few cooks were tending to various meals and pots of hunter's stew, as well as prepping trenchers or cleaning wooden bowls, and wood or horn spoons.

Marinette is still half processing everything so receiving a trencher full of hunter's stew from the cooks barely registers in her mind. And next thing she knows, she is seated next to Lila on the end of the bench and table next to Jason, with Mlle Lance sitting opposite her, Lila, and Adrien. The other two have already started tucking into the food, so cautiously Marinette takes a few sips of the stew broth with a horn spoon.

Mlle Lance clasps her hands together and rests them on the table. “Let's start with what you three already know regarding the dragoon squadrons and this academy.”

Pausing in his eating, Adrien grins. “This is the longest standing dragoon academy, and we'll be taught everything from dragon history, to the language of the dragons, to what is known of Hawkmoth and his shadow dragon army!”

“And,” Lila pipes up, “we'll pick our dragons that we'll train alongside and eventually become fully-fledged Dragoon Guardians with.”

Jason snorts, “sorry to break it you two but this isn't some fucking fairytale.”

Before Lila or Adrien could respond, Mlle Lance cleared her throat. “Right well firstly, Dragoon Guardians is somewhat of an archaic term I'm afraid. But you're not too far off with what you know.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason pretends to be suddenly interested in his trencher of stew.

Though, Marinette does catch him briefly glancing up at her with a curious but also disbelieving look in his eyes. She can't help but instinctively curl her shoulders in and make herself as small as possible.

“And Marinette, what do you know about the academy?” Mlle Lance adds.

Marinette hesitates, trembling slightly and licks her lips. “Uh, well I know roughly the same as Lila and Adrien, so nothing that hasn't been said already…”

She catches Jason squinting at her, and she curls up even more.

Mlle Lance nods thoughtfully, “to start with, Adrien, you are correct in that this is the longest standing dragoon academy. You're also correct that we teach our students dragon history—including the history of the dragoons—as well as teaching the language of the dragon. We also do teach regarding Hawkmoth and his shadow dragon army. However, that will be taught across multiple different subjects as it isn't quite as simple as it may currently seem to you.”

Adrien beams at having been mostly correct. “My father hoped I would be chosen to attend a dragoon academy so he made sure I was taught a general overview.”

“And that's more than most know to begin with, so well done.” Mlle Lance praises, before continuing. “However, Lila, here students do not pick their dragons. The process of meeting the dragon who will be raised and trained beside you, is not what most people think of when they first hear about dragoon human and dragon pairs meeting.”

Lila's lips twitch downwards in dissatisfaction and narrows her eyes slightly at Mlle Lance.

Before anything else can be said, Mlle Lance furrows her brows, “one moment students, a matter has just arisen that I need to quickly take care of.”

With that, she rises from the bench and strides out of the dining hall, shutting the door behind her as she exits.

As soon as the door shuts, Jason, with a concerned look on his face, gets up as well and walks the few steps over to Marinette's bench. Quietly, he asks, “Hey, you okay?”

Marinette swallows a breath of air thickly, and still visibly trembling, laughs nervously. “W-well I'm a little over-overwhelmed, I suppose… What with every—”

Only to slam her mouth shut as Lila wraps her arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to her side.

“She's fine thank you,” Lila coos, “just not used to all the displays of wealth in the castle, here, isn't that right, Marinette.”

Marinette pales, eyes widening with panic and frantically nods her head. “Y-yep!”

Jason raises an eyebrow at Lila, unable to keep the slight sneer off his face as he turns ever so slightly to stare at her, “and you are?”

Lila perks up at his attention, flipping her hair back over her shoulder with one hand. “Didn't you hear Mlle Lance there, I'm Lila.” She smiles cloyingly at him and flutters her eyelashes. “I'm the daughter of a very important diplomat and one of my ancestors was an incredibly powerful Dragoon Guardian.”

Jason snorts, and rolls his eyes once more. “Right. Whatever.” He turns his attention back to Marinette and gives her a sharp nod. “What shit has the rich brat got hanging over your head?”

It clearly takes all of Lila's self-control to not immediately switch from her faux sweetness to fury. Her smile turns wooden and her gaze sharpens at Jason. “Excuse me?”

“You're excused,” Jason responds smugly.

“W-what do you mean?” Marinette asks, struggling to process the conversation after the slight cannonball that Jason just casually asked her.

He tilts his head at her, not unlike a bird. “She looks, sounds, and acts exactly like the kinda rich bastards that hold shit above kids who aren't rich, and you're clearly fucking petrified of her. So is she blackmailing you or something?”

Marinette mouths yes at him whilst shaking her head.

Jason raises an eyebrow at her for a second before shrugging with one shoulder, “alright.” He turns on his heel and heads back to his table and bench where his trencher of stew is waiting.

Lila gapes at him.

Adrien rises from his seat and stares at Jason, flabbergasted. “Aren't you going to apologise to Lila, now? You were wrong.”

Lifting his chin, Jason gives Adrien an unimpressed look then flips the bird at him. A few seconds pass before he shrugs and makes a non-committal noise of disinterest, then he starts spooning stew into his mouth.

Lila huffs and scowls at Jason. She turns to glare at Marinette, faux concern practically dripping from her words despite the evident fury on her face. “You should avoid him from now on, wouldn't want the teachers to think you're a delinquent and get kicked out before you even get to meet your dragon.”

Marinette nods slowly and keeps her attention very carefully on her food.

Her patience is rewarded as a few dozen seconds later, Lila loses interest in her and starts eating her trencher of stew whilst starting a new conversation with just Adrien.

Taking her chances, Marinette sneaks a glance up at Jason with a small smile on her lips.

To her surprise, he also happens to be looking over at her. He flashes her a cheeky grin, winks, before going back to eating.

Maybe, she muses to herself as her grin turns giddy, I was wrong about the academy not being my fresh start. Because this definitely feels like a fresh start now, it almost feels like I'm in a fairytale.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| The dragon riders are called Dragoons in reference to the mounted cavalry called Dragoons who used guns/firearms known as Dragons hence the name. And so I decided it only makes sense for these dragon riders to also be called Dragoons. Armée volante means flying army and was what the historical dragoons were sometimes known as, because of how mobile they were. |

| Ichneumon, also known as Echinemon in Medieval Zoology are enemies of dragons (and snakes and crocodiles in some accounts) and defeated them by covering themselves in armour made from mud before attacking. They are also one the only creatures (the other being weasels) that are immune to the Cockatrices' petrifying sight. |

| Fun fact: Trenchers are flat round (often stale) bread "plates" used during the medieval era. They are cut in half and sometimes the fluffy bread innards are scooped out (like pumpkins) so that the loaf's crust forms a bowl instead. Usually the bowls are used to hold stews or soups, though they were also used for non-liquid based food (which is why they later evolved into our modern day plates and cheese boards). |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

#Maribat #MLB x DC #DC x MLB #Jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #JasonetteJuly2021 #JasMari #MariJay #Marinette x Jason #Jason x Marinette #Jasonette July Week 1 #Jasonette July Day 5 #Jasonette July Fairytales #Stitch Your Ragged Wings and Hope to Soar #SYRWaHtS #Sham's Posts #Sham's Writing #Sham's Fics

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