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sttm99 · 1 month

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Till Death Do Us Part

Bakugo x reader

Part 2: Only Ever You and Me

Ps: I got bored and decided I hadn't posted in a while, so I did this.

Prince Bakugo, who was arranged to marry you, some princess from another kingdom, despite all his protests.

Not only did he NOT want to get married, but his heart already belonged to someone else; the little shy maid in the corner of the banquet Hall where the wedding reception was being held.

He'd met you for the first time a few months ago, and again, just some hours ago when the wedding was finally held, but he'd already decided on one thing he didn't like about you.

You were perfect.

And not in a good way.

You were perfect in such a way that it had him itching to see something wrong.

He sulked through the whole wedding when you finally arrived at the Palace because you were pretty. Too pretty. You were absolutely stunning, and it had irritation coursing through him.

He saw the way his maid lover looked at you; jealousy and sadness obvious as she saw the way you and him were paraded around the hall.

He hated it. He hated the stupid, royal smile that was permanently etched on your face. He hated how you seemed so prim and proper as you smiled and greeted other nobles around him, laughing when expected, showing empathy to concerns he knew you had never experienced, and that stupid soft voice of yours as you talked about how lucky you were to be married to him.

He hated as he watched you dance around with some generals in the middle of the hall, your movements graceful and perfect, precise and correct.

He had to tear his eyes away from you before the irritation consumed him. Unironically, it had him locking eyes with his lover, his own softening in turn as he stared at her, wanting nothing more than to escape to that empty hallway they always met in.

And he was about to, already standing from his seat and turning to the exit.

But you'd quickly appeared in front of him, soft, irritating smile on your face as you stared up at him so innocently.

"Where are you going, Katsuki?" You asked softly.

"The bathroom," he quickly murmured, already trying to step around you, but you followed, quickly sidestepping so you were in front of him again.

He scowled as you blocked his path, "Oi-"

"You think I don't see you look at her?" You stepped forward, and Bakugo thought he'd heard a mistake because you still had that soft look on your face, yet your voice was suddenly so cold.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, and for the first time, his voice wasn't so aggressive.

But you just grinned at him. "Your little whore, near the drapes at the left end of the hall. You think I don't notice how you stare at her?"

Your observance makes him glare. "So?" He spits out at you, quietly so no one hears. "You think I give a fuck? This wedding is a sham and-"

"And it's the joining of our people," you say softly, practically cooing at him like he's a kid. He hates it, it makes his skin crawl. "It's our duty. I'd hardly call it a sham."

"Doesn't change the fact that I already had someone. Someone whom I loved, who was mine." He growls through gritted teeth, hands clenched by his side.

"But you're not hers," you say with a grin. This one is ugly; it's mean and a borderline sneer. "You're mine, Katsuki. My king. My husband."

"You-"

"At the end of the day, it's me you'll only ever be seen with, it's me who'll be buries next to you, and when we're dead and gone, the history books will say I was your wife."

He's frozen in his place, still trying to process your declaration. You're right. You're stupidly, annoyingly right, but it pisses him off, it scares him, this boldness and this meanness, knowing that he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

But it excited him as well, this confidence and possessiveness, knowing that he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

"With you and her? It's fleeting, quick passion. But you and I?" You grin, "Till death do us part."

He's still frozen in place, suddenly quiet as you step forward and link your arms together. You rest your head on his arm as his mother begins to approach you two.

"Smile, husband," you whisper softly to him. "It's our wedding."

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha x reader

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ghouljams · 2 months

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I can just imagine the first time König meets his darling goes a little like; he steps on one of her flowers and out of nowhere this woman appears and starts giving him the dressing down of his life for being "such a clumsy, unobservant oaf," but the whole time he's just starting at her with heart eyes.

She could also keep the name Bee, because she's buzzing about the flowers all day. Though, perhaps she's a bit more like a hornet with that fiery personality she has.

Yeah that's pretty much how it happens.

König has never cared much for plants, he walks through the garden with advisors in tow, grumbling and growling until he finally rounds on them to leave him the hell alone for two goddamn minutes. Christ he didn't become king so he could deal with all this mundanity, he became king because his father was weak and the kingdom was going to shit. Corruption was a hydra, each head he chopped off just sprouted three more. He needed people he could trust, not power hungry nobles that only sought to elevate their own status by joining his cabinet. He may have to look outside the kingdom for that.

König stops at the edge of a wide flower bed, well tended, but in his way. The garden is full of winding paths, ones meant to draw people in to the scenery and inspire admiration in whatever flora is blooming. As previously stated, König has never cared much for plants. He steps off the path and into the bed, not so carefully trampling over the blooms and delicate stems that live there. He's king, these are his gardens, he can destroy what he wishes. Actually it's sort of nice to destroy something after a long day of signing laws and reviewing tax nonsense. He steps more purposefully onto a rose bush, eyes wide and pleased at the way the thorns drag against his clothes and attempt to prick him. Good, he hopes they draw a little blood for the trouble it's causing to walk through them. He even hears them yelp.

Oh no, that was a human. He stops grinding his boot into the woody stems and glances back at you. You look horrified. You look mad. Oh you look mad. He feels the emotion sink down his spin like warm honey, your eyes are furious as you pick your way through the trampled flowers. Actually you stop and gasp in horror at one of the bushes he'd destroyed crouching to fret over the stems and cup the delicate petals. König takes that as his sign to continue his walk. He doesn't expect you to stand in front of him or push your hands against his chest to yell at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You ask him, fury edging your voice, his eyes dart between yours enjoying the fire in them, "Do you have any idea the work I've had to put in to make the hydrangeas that color? The soil has to be exactly right or they won't be red enough and look at what you're doing to my roses!" You push at him again, he tips his head to properly stare down at you.

"Move." He commands, and you push him again. Something shakes in his eyes, makes the world feel like it's trembling on the edge of insanity.

"You are supposed to stay on the path," You insist, "You move!"

"I am your king," König threatens, "Move or I will move you."

It hardly seems to make you do more than glare. He'd think you were stupid if he hadn't decided you were crazy. You point at the path he's made for himself. "This is my garden, and my flowers, and you-" You jab a finger against his chest, "-are going to apologize for ruining it."

König grabs your wrist and drags you, kicking, the rest of the way across the flower bed. You do your best, but he's sure to make you trample some of your precious flowers same as him. He tosses you onto the path and, though you stumble, you manage to keep yourself upright, glaring as he steps over the stone edging and back onto the path. You clench your hands into fists, and he hopes maybe you'll cry. He likes when that happens, it's fun seeing the waterworks. Instead you slap him, and all his anger and annoyance fall into the pit of his stomach as the chainmail mask stings both his cheek and your hand.

You seem to realize you've just struck the king almost as quickly as König realizes it. Though your reaction and his are miles apart. You freeze and he, decidedly doesn't. König grabs your arms and squeezes you, leaning in close to look you in the eye. You can smell the metal of his mask, see the almost reddish color of his irises. The mad dog that killed his father rather than wait for a throne that was already his. He's going to kill me, you think to yourself, watching the heave of his shoulders as he breathes.

"Do it again," He squeezes you tighter and your fear flips to confusion, "mein Herz, mein liebe, do it again Liebling."

Who are you to deny an order from your king?

#könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #medieval au #oc: liebling #König x oc #konig mw2 #they're freaks but that's fine #König finds out about Liebling's poison garden and asks to marry her #she turns him down immediately #I think König is a masochist #but in the way the hayao miyazaki is a masochist #he just assumes everyone enjoys pain like he does lol

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svtcrus · 8 months

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Broken Walls || rezef hill x fem!reader

a/n : found this in my notes and really liked how this turned out. a little change of pace, gotta put out sum fluff💀 but I hope yall like this !

synopsis : rezef hill finds himself falling in love with his sister's dear friend.

rezef never once expected himself to find a woman he'd fall in love with if he was completely honest. he'd expected to find himself at the altar marrying a stranger, just days after being told he would have a arranged marriage.

he never expected to find true love due to the fact every woman would come flaunting to him with their "oh so high" status, and preposterous personalities. or perverted nobles trying to seduce him for the fact he is the only crown prince of the empire. a handsome, ambitious crown prince where every lady believed they could tear down his walls. a stupid fairytale dream, others thought. a fairytale dream he thought would remain a mere dream.

this feeling, love, was something he believed he didn't need. he didn't deserve. as him being the future emperor, such boastful feelings were deemed unnecessary to him. especially with the heavy influence of his father and the late empress's torn relationship.

but then you came along. your small visits to the castle to visit your dear friend cayena, his beloved sister. would soon enough catch the lapis eyes of the tyrannical prince.

once he saw you as just his sisters close friend. then after a social background check, he thought of you as either a pawn for his ascension, or a nuisance to his precious elder sister. oh how much he regrets at such rude ideas now.

your smile that lit up around the castle, you seemed to always appear in his sight right after he's had another raging outburst or when he simply had a bad day. were those moments a sign?

he'd always notice you from high up in the castle hallways, looking down at the garden where your laughter erupted whenever you and cayena talked.

he'd soon find himself smiling at how graceful you danced, as your dress followed with your elegant movements during parties you both attended to. you radiated so much warmth wherever you went.

he remembers when he first asked you for a dance on his birthday. you didn't act like how those other ladies would. ladies who'd flaunt their "beauty" as they beg on their knees for him to dance with them. or ladies who would weirdly accept when he's forced to set foot on the ballroom floor. instead you accepted his request with much respect and eloquent joy. you were just, different.

"oh your highness the crown prince, I would love to dance with you," you said so sweetly. your gentle voice echoed in his head that very night.

he remembers how his hands held your beautiful body, your precious hands. how his eyes couldn't help but stare into your crystal orbs, and painted lips. you were a treasure, he so desperately wanted to keep.

the way you smiled at him with so much honesty when you danced with him. despite the glares of other noble ladies who were completely outraged and envious of your spotlight, you had paid no mind.

soon after that ball, he'd invite you for a day of tea. trying to embrace the moments his sister had enjoyed whenever you had tea with her.

tea time soon turned to walks around his own garden, then horseback riding, to him spoiling you with gifts when you two snuck out into the capital in disguise.

he reminisces to the time you had giddily told him to sneak out the palace one night. to go see the lake you loved since you were a child. together, alone.

that was when he had fully let himself sink into this love he realized he had for you. and if it wasn't love, he didn't know what this butterfly fleeting emotion would be.

you let him grasp the missed times of his youth, experience the fun things a child would normally do. you let out his inner child, you became the first person to fully see his vulnerability. you became the first and only person to break down those wall's everyone else wanted to break.

then one day on one your escapades. he confessed.

"Y/n.. I have something to say. for quite some time I have found this liking towards you. everything i do with you has always given me happiness, a happiness I didn't know I deserved. hah.. your sweet meaningful nothings, your beautiful smile. who knew I'd be so dumb in love...

what I'm trying to say is.. I love you."

he was only in a white blouse shirt and a hooded cape that day. never expecting to be professing his love in such inappropriate clothing. to ask you to be his, his future crown princess. yet here he was.

oh the way the way your eyes sparkled, despite the clear tears that were ready to fall. he hadn't expected you to cry, his eyes widened with panic, hands on your cheeks holding you with worry.

you softly chuckled at his reaction, you placed your smaller hand atop of his. leaning into his hold as you looked at him so blissfully. the moment where you had answered the question he dreaded for you to respond to.

"I love you too your highness, Rezef"

soon enough rezef proposed to you at that same place. when you swung around as he held you with his strong arms. tears streaming your face, while he kissed the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. you both couldn't have been more happier.

━━━┅━━━━*✧·̩͙♧︎🛩️♧︎·̩͙✧*━━━━┅━━

©️ @svtcrus || 08.07.2023

#cowon.writings #rezef hill #rezef x reader #rezef #rezef hill x reader #the villainess is a marionette #manhwa #manhwa x reader #manhwaxreader #the villainess is a marionette x reader

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yuri-is-online · 7 months

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And Your Name Is? (Sebek, Silver, Idia)

Synopsis- After successfully resolving whatever was causing NRC to be trapped in an endless time loop of overblotting and disaster, one last reset should give him a chance to experience a normal school year with you. But instead you find yourself trapped in the here and there, appearing as a vague shadow around the school that vanishes as soon as he catches up to you. The kind thing to do would be to allow you to be forgotten in the chance it lets you return to your world.

But this is Twisted Wonderland where the kind thing is seldom done, and he wants you back as much as you want to find him again.

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, thanks to the lovely annon who requested this, they suggested Silver and Sebek in celebration of Book 7 Chapter 5 and I decided to add Idia because I expect he'll be doing something soon-ish. Please look to my masterlist for the other parts if you liked this.

Sebek

This is madness, it has to be. What other explanation could he have for these memories torturing him every time he finds himself alone. Lilia had reassured them they were real, even if Lord Malleus's memory was fuzzy and Silver's as unreliable as ever what he saw, what he felt, were all painfully real. There was a missing student from his first year class, an incompetent irrevocably out of place, magicless human who seemed determined to get into the worst situations possible. He can't decide who he is angrier at, the other students for forgetting you, you for once again getting yourself into a situation someone would need to rescue you from, or himself for... for... for...

He'd asked his mother once, angrily and painfully disrespectfully, why she would marry someone so weak. The perspective of time, looped or otherwise, made him realize he was really blaming her for the way his grandfather saw him. As if he could have somehow earned his total respect and love if he erased everything about his father from his being, as if the answer his mother ultimately gave him was a sin somehow.

"Because my love is not weak, true love never is. You can let it change you for the better, or you can let it make you worse. When you see the person you love you will know what they'll do, your soul becomes theirs in a way. Your strengths and weaknesses become shared."

Sebek thinks he must be letting love make him worse. He isn't loud when he approaches your silhouette, he makes no announcement, no demand you be grateful he is paying you attention despite your humanity. He just sits under the apple tree, and quietly into the the empty night air reads a novel. There's a vague memory he has of a much louder conversation you had here about the exact same book. The knight saves his love at the cost of his own life, and he had gone on at much louder length about how noble that was.

You though, you had hated it. "What's the point of living if the person you want to share your life with had to die for it?"

"Do you remember?" His voice is still woefully in line with a normal volume, and you are still just out of reach. "That is what you said, and I am sure I said something very stupid about knightly honor. I probably told you that a mere human would never understand, but whatever I might have meant you were right in the end. It's an empty world when your life is paid for with the life of someone you love." You flicker as if to disappear, but Sebek is faster, snapping up from his seat to grasp you in a death roll and tumbling down to the grass. Yes, love is absolutely making him worse, how else is he supposed to explain to anyone the sheer joy he feels to find you, heavy and warm in the flesh successfully pinned under him and trembling. He can atone for his improprieties later, the sheer worry you inflicted demands immediate penance. There is no running from your fate, not that the arms that encircle his shoulders and pull him further down seem at risk of fleeing anywhere. Sebek's eyes close in relief, allowing himself finally to release his weakness into the strength of your embrace.

Silver

He used to dream what it would be like to live without his curse. Granted Silver didn't have much of an imagination, most of those thoughts consisted of him doing simple things like training with his father or cooking without fear of hurting himself, not that those were bad things to want. Now though, he almost missed his lapses into sleep. He was certain, based off of what little Malleus and Lilia had been able to tell him about the here and there, that he could find you in his dreams. When he went to bed at night he knew he slept, knew he dreamed, but for some reason he just couldn't find you. There were traces, locations he remembers from past timelines, places he's sure must be a twisted echo from your world, all showing traces he could follow but never once showing him you.

It was enough to make him cry, he swears he's cried more in the past month than he has in how ever many years he's been alive. He knows it's scaring his father, he thinks it's scaring Sebek. Malleus is still under the impression there is a way to save you so he has yet to give into fear, but if the way he dismisses Silver, teasingly telling him to get some rest, is any reassurance he's worried about him too.

"I really hope you aren't missing because you think we don't care." He seldom speaks aloud to you outside of dreams, Silver isn't sure if you can hear him when he does. But there's a painful strength to his desire tonight, maybe fueled by the silhouette he saw flickering just beyond the Ramshackle Gate earlier in the evening. He knows Malleus told him to rest, but he finds himself walking back there "just in case" before he returns to his dorm. It's quiet here, inviting himself to close his eyes and begin tracing the steps he saw earlier. You were dancing, he tried to reach for your hand to give you the partner the waltz so clearly demanded but only found air. They're still only holding air when when he pauses, eyes blurring as he tries to examine a still tingling palm, confused to find tears pooling in its center as words continue to flow. "That's not to say if you do I don't understand. If I was in your place, I would feel lonely too. It has to be painful, feeling so alone when you are surrounded by so many people..." His eyes close. A gentle breeze picks up the autumn leaves and tickle his nose with a familiar scent as he chokes out an earnest plea: "Is it too much to ask for you to be lonely in my hands? I promise I'll hold on so tight you never float away again." A comforting weight settles itself onto his hand, his fingers thread through theirs and his other arm pulls them into his embrace through sheer muscle memory before his eyes even open.

"Why are you crying?" A voice he's been chasing after for hundreds of years now, cracked from a months worth of silence asks him so earnestly and sweetly the only response he can find is laughter.

"It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter!" His arm finds it's way under your legs to sweep you up into a protective cradle as he spins you around and around to reassure himself that this is not a dream, no matter the familiar gleam shining up at him from your eyes.

Idia

This is so not worth it. Idia is not built for this, this, this cliche bullshit plot line. He will not own up to his past self's decisions, he will stay resolute in nihilistic pride and continue to refer to himself as a looser NEET who has never gotten any in his entire life. And technically, as he has argued to Ortho for the past five hours now, that is still true.

"New timeline new me, I am not in love with a student who doesn't technically exist that was my much cooler alter ego." He says that, but Ortho knows that's not a video game's code he has pulled up on his monitor. And despite checking the school's security cams being his thing, his older brother has several open on his other monitor. They've been changing through this entire argument, clearly monitoring wherever you appear and logging it as data in a massive spreadsheet Ortho has maybe taken one or two looks at when he managed to convince Idia to take a nap.

"Um big brother, not to be rude-" Ortho really wants to be. Idia isn't the only one who loves you, just the only one insistent on denying his feelings. "but isn't it sort of... childish to deny yourself at this point? The prefect-"

"They can't be a prefect if they aren't in school." Idia snaps.

"Just Yuu then." Ortho chooses to take the weird cackle Idia lets out as a sign he is making progress with his code and not a sign of a mental break. Yet. "They never showed interest in anyone else, they always picked you. That's got to be enough data to prove that when you save them," because there really is no point in pretending Idia is trying to do anything else at this point, even he gave up denying that just fifteen minutes into this conversation "they won't abandon you for anyone else."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Idia doesn't think he meant to say that, the words sort of just fall out of his mind onto his lap. He risks a look at the security footage, your ghost seldom comes into Ignihyde. That had bothered him at first, angered him even. What, you'll tell him you love him, steal his first kiss every time you can, and watch all his favorite shows just to get him to talk to you more but then when you're trapped in a liminal space you won't bother knocking on his door? Did all those things you said you would do only apply to the good times?

Not that it changed what he was going to do, part of him saw saving you as a challenge but mostly it was just out of gratitude for saving Ortho. That would have earned you his help even without the whole "lovers doomed by the narrative" thing you had going on. But recently, the more he worked on saving you really, he had started to wonder if his self doubt was what was pushing you away. Idia hated how much magic could rely on something as unpredictable and unreliable as human emotion, but it did. And whatever was happening to you was absolutely magical, he had the data to prove it. Reluctantly, ignoring Ortho's protests despite the guilt that gnaws at him he leaves his room. The harsh nighttime light of Ignihyde's LED displays bounce off his skin as he shuffles himself through the empty dormitory, no real destination in mind. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud in front of Ortho, he couldn't bring himself to say it in front of you either, if his spotty memory is serving him correctly. He finds himself stood in front of a vending machine in one of the school's hallways, two distorted shadows flickering with equal uncertainty in the glass.

"Hungry?" Idia doesn't know why he asks, but he knows why he puts enough money into the machine for two bags of chips. "I keep forgetting I'm just getting shit for myself now." You don't respond, but Idia isn't too surprised or upset. It has to be weird hearing him address you directly after he's spent so much time ignoring you. "Just because Ignihyde's meant to respect the King of the Underworld doesn't mean you'll get snatched away if you pay me a visit. You shouldn't be afraid of him, he isn't dangerous to you." But I am. He doesn't say that, but the words hang heavy in the air anyway. Your shadow tries to reach for the vending machine, but pause almost confused when Idia beats you to punch in the familiar number of your favorite drink.

I love you. He doesn't say it out loud, but the thunk of the can makes the point just the same Idia realizes when he brings the can up to a very confused, very familiar looking face. You are confused, and a bit scared when he drops the drink to tackle you but you hold onto him anyway.

I love you too. You don't say it either but the steady, comforting beat of your heart screams it just the same. I will find you in ever lifetime.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #silver x reader #idia shroud x reader #not me forcing words from myself by listening once upon a dream x500 times #that wouldn't be on brand for chapter 7 now would it

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silverskye13 · 1 year

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So, the thing about being damseled, Welsknight is rapidly realizing, is you don't really have to be a damsel to do it. Or have it done to you, that is. Being damseled isn't really a gender thing, like all the old knights tales would have him believe. He doesn't have to have long blonde hair, or a princess dress. He doesn't have to make deals with obscure fae gods or spirits, doesn't have to know how to weave golden thread. Heck, he doesn't even have to be locked in a tower. Damseling -- that is, the state of being a damsel in distress -- is a much broader scoped state of being. It's not so much a trope or a role, and more of... An essence. A vibe. If one can be trapped and helpless and in need of a knight in shining armor to save the day, one can in fact be damseled just fine without any of the key fairytale hallmarks.

How does Welsknight know all this? Well, because he's managed to damsel himself, of course.

Welsknight is trapped. He should have known better. Well? Should he have known better? Eh. Even if he should have, he definitely shouldn't have expected to. He's new to Vault Hunting.

Iskall and Stress made it sound so easy. Yeah! Just go find a vault, gear up, don't be afraid to run for your life. Nothing can go wrong if you're careful. Beware the curses and traps and tripwires. Don't eat anything growing on the walls. Fight. Survive. Win! They do it all the time, with their adventuring teams and alone. Whatever suits their fancy. Just don't anger the gods and do run screaming if something way beyond your skill level wanders into the room. Cowardice? Nonsense! Vaults aren't duels, they're thrills. Thrills that sometimes glean cool treasure, and treasure, while awesome, can't challenge your honor and isn't worth your life. So go, kill some monsters, have fun, run when you need to. It's low-high stakes, choose your own adventuring at its finest!

And Wels is a knight errant, alright? He's slain dragons. And withers. And, yes, rescued a few damsels. He's good at what he does. So when he and Iskall went for some drinks at a local tavern, and Welsknight whined that he was getting bored of escorting mining parties and killing oversized lizards for neglectful nobles, well, Iskall had smiled and pointed him to the Vaultlands. And Welsknight, bored and stupid in his boredom, had decided raiding vaults was a great idea.

"If I get out of this," Welsknight vows in his most solemn, oath-binding knight's voice, "I am going to punch Iskall right in his grinning, stupid face."

He is barricading a door with anything he can find, all while the screams and shrieks of some persistent undead challenge his fervor from the other side. The undead here are different than they are outside the Vaults. The slow, lumbering, hollow things that amble blindly around deep caves and unstable mines don't hold a candle to these creatures. These are malevolent undead, things that seem to hate Welsknight personally, inhabited by the dreams of sleeping gods that were, probably, sealed in these Vaults for a freaking reason. He's pretty sure one of them is jibbering with the voice of his dead brother, which is, honestly, demonic scales of unfairness. And he would know demonic unfairness. Welsknight has fought exactly one demon, and while he certainly isn't an expert, he knows more about how much they cheat and torment than he had ever wanted to know. And anyway, how is he supposed to kill that kind of malevolence in the undead? He's not! For heaven's sake, he's faced fae with less personal malevolence, and the fae court is the most petty place on earth!

Welsknight kicks his barricade with an armored boot, making sure it'll hold. The stack of pilfered detritus shakes but stands firm. Somewhere in that lot is his broken sword, barring the door shut. The blade shattered in four pieces when he was tackled by some wight-creature, not because the creature was that strong, but because he'd just used it to fight some sort of corrosive slime, and really, the fact that living acid slime exists in the Vaults is unfair, and something Iskall really should've warned him about. At least it hadn't gotten on his armor.

Welsknight backs away from the barred door, listening to the angry screams of what lay beyond it. There's a lot of name-calling going on. "Come to your death, coward!" And "Brother please! Help me! Don't let it take me!" And "Sleep with us forever knight! Aren't you tired?" Screech and groan through the air as though the door and barricade aren't there to muffle it. There's hysterical cackling as well, which is kind of typical. He can't tell if the loudness of the noise is supernatural, or if it means there's another entrance to the room he hasn't noticed yet. As unsettling as the supernatural option is, he kind of prefers that right now. Weaponless and exhausted, he's not sure how well he'll manage if the undead just start pouring in from a side door somewhere.

Welsknight blinks, and belatedly realizes he's blinking back tears. His hands shake as he wipes them away. Yeah, okay, maybe the screaming-with-the-voice-of-his-dead-brother thing was getting to him more than he thought it would. He's a knight, not an iron golem. He still has feelings. He tries to be detached and gentle about it. He knows what fear is. The first time he fought a dragon, he cried. He cried a lot, actually. After it was dead he lay on the ground sobbing for a good hour, which had been terribly inconvenient at the time, since it had broken one of his ribs. Terror kind of just, does that to him -- makes him cry. He learned a long time ago not to be ashamed of it, no matter how badly timed it could be.

"Right," Welsknight croaks into the room around him. "Cry about it later. Escape now."

It's not a big room that he's trapped himself in. It has the trappings of an ancient hall, with some newness to it, indicating he isn't the first adventurer to stumble in here. Rotting boxes and chests are tumbled against a collapsed wall, the smell of damp rot wafting off them. One has candles and two plates on it, someone's makeshift dining set up, and there's the scorched remains of a campfire. It looks pathetic compared to the massive columns and reliefs it sits beneath. Maybe this place was a temple? It sure seems kind of temple-y, but Welsknight has yet to encounter an altar to any Vault Gods -- which is probably good. Iskall had mentioned those were guarded by scary creatures, and if "malevolent undead who steal the voices of your loved ones from your memories to torment you while they devour your flesh" hadn't registered on Iskall's "scary creatures to warn Wels about" index, he really, really doesn't want to know what insane creatures might guard the altar chambers of the Vault Gods.

"Probably like, undulating tentacle demons with acid breath," Welsknight mutters out loud as he meanders the chamber, searching for something useful. "Or maybe the Gods themselves just come down and use you as a hackey sack until you prove your worth or die. That sounds about right."

The cold stone walls make no comment, which is probably for the best, since given current trends, they would probably talk back with the voice of his disapproving parents, or maybe the old knight he'd been squired to, which would really start straining his already stressed out psyche right about now.

He can still hear his brother's voice calling to him through the door.

For as impressive as the room is, there really isn't much in here of use. The boxes from the old expedition have let the moisture in the room in. There's old, indecipherable food inside that is now mostly black sludge. The candles might be useful if he had anything resembling a tinderbox to light them with. Everything else in here is far older, and mostly carved stone too heavy to pilfer. This place has obviously been picked over before. No relics are on the walls. The one chest he finds that is (probably) older than the boxes contains only a single glorious cobweb as a prize. Welsknight has just about submitted to his fate to die in obscurity in a random Vault somewhere, when he encounters a corpse. It is not reanimated dead, though he does give it a few good kicks to make sure it doesn't feel like crawling to life and talking with ominous voices.

"Well, at least the ambient necromancy going on in here has limits," Welsknight sighs, squatting down on the balls of his feet to pick the corpse over. "Well, friend, I don't suppose you've got anything helpful on you?"

Their chainmail is rusted, their features, save for a few whisps of black-brown hair, are decayed away. He manages to find a coin purse with some woefully old looking coins -- so the chances of some other adventuring party stumbling to his rescue are quite small then. He picks up a shield from them that, though dry rotted, looks like it could block one or two more hits before giving up the ghost. On their back is a scabbard so rusted, it looks like the sword might be fused inside. Welsknight grimaces, then shrugs and concedes that even a brittle sword is better than none. Still, it doesn't make prying the sword belt off the old bones any more pleasant. There's a lot of brittle cracking, and a lot of wincing on Welsknight's part, before he finally manages to get it free.

"Sorry friend, but I think I need this a little more than you do."

The skull rocks a bit on the floor as it settles, but otherwise doesn't seem to care. The sockets aren't even facing his direction. Welsknight takes that as his sign that he isn't horribly cursed... Or at least no more so than when he first got trapped in here. Welsknight rubs at the blade, trying to see how much of the rust is superficial. A bit chips off beneath his fingernail, revealing bright silver beneath.

"A silver scabbard?" Welsknight raised his eyebrows at the corpse, "Well, weren't you a glamorous fellow?"

Welsknight grimaces and, taking ahold of the hilt, draws the sword. It pulls a lot easier than he thought it would. The rust holds it for a moment, and then smoothly releases, revealing bright steel underneath. The sword unsheathes with a ringing hiss.

"--ON'T SHEATH THE SWORD YOU IDIOT!"

The scream is right by his ear. Welsknight lets out a startled yelp and turns to face the voice, tripping over his feet and landing in an inglorious heap on the floor.

Standing in front of him is a knight garbed in black armor, a fiery plume rippling from his helm. His back is facing Welsknight, and he stands with his shoulders hunched, one arm reaching forward like he's trying to stop someone. The knight takes a step back, surprised, then rocks on his heels.

"Oh." He says, then looks down at the skeleton by his feet. "Oh."

He stares at the skeleton for a long moment, shrugs, and then gives the skull a hard kick, sending it clattering off across the room. "Serves you right, you asshole!"

Welsknight is crying again. He can't help it. He's scared and overwhelmed, and this knight is so, so terribly familiar. From the armor to the way he stands, to his voice. And when the knight turns to face him finally, the face is familiar too.

"Hels?" Welsknight whispers.

Helsknight, his definitely-dead brother, looks down at him with uncomprehending eyes. Then he scowls, "Nope. Sorry."

"I-- but--"

"I am the Spirit of the Sword," Helsknight cuts him off, rolling his eyes petulantly. "I serve the wielder of my blade, loyal in death, as I wasn't in -- blablabla. I take the form of the protector, the guardian, the comforting, and yes, I'm used to the whole "oh you look just like my dead loved one" thing. So let's skip the unnecessary angst, okay?"

A particularly loud shriek from the ghouls outside echoes shrilly through the room before Welsknight can even attempt to gather his response. Helsknight spins to face the barred door and takes a threatening step towards it.

"Oh would you SHUT UP? We're in the middle of something!"

The sounds behind the door fall abruptly silent. Welsknight stares in bafflement, feeling just confused enough to stop crying. The Spirit Of The Sword That Looks Just Like His Dead Brother offers a hand to him.

"Come on, get up." He says as he pulls Welsknight to his feet roughly, and then gives him a long, appraising look. "Well, you look like you might know how to swing my sword, so there's something at least."

"I'm-- I'm a knight errant," Welsknight tells him, trying to recover some of his senses. "What-- are you another trick of this terrible place?" Anger starts to bubble underneath everything else he's feeling, and his fists clench. "I'm tired of the stupid mind games and the trickery, and everything screaming like Hels and---!"

Helsknight holds up his hands, looking something between annoyed and appeasing. "Aye, yes, I understand. My last wielder did die in this Vault. No I'm not a demon, or an evil spirit -- unless you intend to use my sword for evil, in which case, I'm evil by proxy." Helsknight ushered to himself. "The enchantment in the blade turns me into something you're familiar with. Whoever I am, I don't have his memories or his mannerisms--" his lip curls in something like disgust as he adjusts his breastplate, "--or his taste in armor. Really, what's wrong with some nice high mobility chainmail? Or leather? Leather is amazing! It's quiet and doesn't feel like I'm carrying a whole damn armory around."

Welsknight screwed his eyes shut and breathed. Alright. Alright. He's okay. He can deal with this. He can-- well at least he can ignore the specter of his brother following him around for as long as it takes to get out of this Vault. But when he gets out ohhh, oh Iskall owes him six pints at the nearest tavern and a damn good explanation.

"Sword Spirit," Welsknight asks after another set of calming breaths, "can you fight?"

Helsknight looks down at his hip where a sword is sheathed. He draws it, tests its weight and shrugs. "I'd be a poor sword spirit if I couldn't."

"Alright then," Welsknight picks up the magical sword from where he'd dropped it and walks towards the barred door. "Let's get out of here, then."

Well, there is one good thing about being damseled at least, Welsknight thinks bitterly as Helsknight begins moving the debris. Someone always sends you a knight in shining armor.

#the barking writer #welsknight #helsknight #swordheart au #sorry i couldnt resist this has been rotating in the back of my head ever since i read swordheart #hermitcraft fic #vault hunters fic #i know nothing about vault hunters except for like 10 eps of Iskalls singleplayer season 1 lets play please forgive me vh fans #helsmits

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lazyalani · 9 months

Text

| William James Moriarty × [F!Reader]

| Into your arms

| angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, non canon mission, will's students are such sweethearts, they love him, angst with a happy ending, just feels, so much feels, like one swear word

| Summary: In which William's lover waits for him to come back after leaving for a mission without telling her it'll be a long one.

| Yuukoku no Moriarty Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

i'm out of my head

2 weeks.

It been exactly two weeks since you've last kissed your fiancee. Two since you've hugged him. Two weeks since you said 'I love you'. And two weeks since you've last seen him. Or his family.

You knew he wasn't just a professor. You knew his family weren't just normal nobles. You knew they were doing something behind the curtains, you didn't know what it was, you knew it was shady but you certainly didn't care.

Because you trust him.

You trust him enough to let him go missing for half a day doing god knows what. You trust him enough to pretend to be deaf when you hear them talking about things. You trust him enough to believe his words and stay clueless until he decides it's safe for you to know. You trust him enough to believe he'd keep you safe. You trust him enough to turn a blind eye to those blood that were certainly not theirs.

You trust him enough to stay out of their business.

But disappearing for two weeks? That was a new record. And it isn't a good one.

out of my mind,

You trust him with everything but disappearing for a week or two without a word, a trace, even a note, is out of the question.

The first two days were fine as it is. You were used to it. As long as he came back on the third day and you would spend time with each other like nothing happened it was fine. Until he didn't show up the next day. And the day after that. And then the day after. Then the next. And before you knew it, your fiancee, along with his family and friends, had gone missing for two weeks.

Scotland yard had been trying to trace them for a week. No, you hand't been the one to inform them. You didn't know what they were doing but you certainly suspect it was illegal, and you weren't stupid enough to get the yard on their tails and ruin whatever they were doing.

But William's students on the other had, claimed their professor hasn't come to the university for a week and decided to visit his house only to find it empty. And them being William's students, learning god knows what besides math, had asked vendors, shops, and houses that trailed towards the Moriarty Manod if they had seen their professor, to which none replied yes. So they had reported it to the yard.

Ofcourse, you, being his lover, were also questioned.

oh, i

Ofcourse, you feigned cluelessness, saying he had told you that they'd gone to a business trip, requiring them to be gone for a few days, and thought they had just extended or had an emergency as reason why they aren't back yet.

It made the yard back down for a bit, with a little help from Cheif Patterson, who you had seen a few times before, knowing he was involved with whatever your fiancee had. But when a day passed, even the Cheif could not get them down from the tons of requests from the university, students and professors alike, to find their professor. Well, William had surely made a great impression. As he always does.

The students had brought you gifts and visits, comforting you from the missing case of your fiancee. While you feigned being clueless, your distraught, concern, and broken heart hadn't been fake. While you were fine remaining clueless to what they have been doing and continue to do, it was tiring to have to worry everyday without an explanation.

if you let me i'd be

To worry if he's fine. To worry if he's injured. To worry if those blood are theirs. To worry if they had been caught. To worry of he had found another. To worry if he just made you his lover for the sake of not getting suspicions. To think so deep about everything because of everything.

To worry if he'd still come back alive.

out of my dress, and

So, you let yourself cry to your thoughts everynight. It was your only way of coping, besides seeing him smile and hearing his sweet words. And tonight was no exception.

You lean on your couch, rubbing your forehead, trying to sooth your headache with the tea he had gifted you from a trip. Letting a few tears fall. You knew it wouldn't help to sooth your headache, but you couldn't help it. Staring at the lit up candle beside you, the only source of light in this time of the night.

That candle reminded you of him. A kind of yellow with a tinge of orangey-red. A calm flame that could destroy everything around it when let loose and without eyes looking after it.

You wonder if you had let yourself burn to him.

into your arms tonight

But then again, he wouldn't let you burn. Hence, why he had you remain clueless and unknowing of what was truly happening behind those sweet smiles and happy family gatherings. You wonder if he thinks himself of selfish, keeping you despite knowing the dangers of being with you. But you didn't mind.

You didn't mind him being selfish. You didn't mind him keeping you. But still, it's tiring, exhausting, to let your heart race and almost feel it explose from worry. To let your eyes burn with tears everytime he's been gone for more than half a day only to return with blood. Despite the blood not being his, the thought of it being someone else's and William getting caught didn't help ease your fears.

Perhaps you did let yourself burn.

The continous death of the nobles synching with your lover's disappearances and the blood on his cloak, on his blade, on his gloves, on his face, you had decided to turn a blind eye.

You had fallen low, continuing to trust him despite all the blood on his hands, on his family's name, but it was William, wasn't it? The reassuring gazes and words he has left you had you assured everything was fine, that everything was for the best, that was the only thing he had left you, anyway.

It was better than nothing.

i'm lost without it

Better than staying the all and nothing fiancee who had everything except her lover's honest words from behind the curtains. It wasn't a big knowledge, it almost didn't help, but it was something. So you take it.

But it still didn't help the ache on your head, it didn't help the tears that continue to fall down from your eyes.

You just wanted him back to you. You just want to feel him in your arms again. You just just to feel his loving gaze. To hear his sweet and wise words. To feels his arms encase around you. To feel his lips on your skin.

Oh, the poor fiancee, always waiting.

it feels like i'm always waiting,

Knocks on your door resounded through your manor. You didn't know why, but it made your heart race.

You wiped the tears on your face and forced yourself to stand up and move towards the door.

You opened the door, looking down on the ground. It was disrespectful, but you couldn't let anyone see the pathetic state you were in. "How may I help you?" You winced at the sound of your voice, raspy, broken, cracked.

The person infront of you didn't answer, so you grimaced and rubbed your temples, closing your eyes, looking up, letting the person see your disheveled and pathetic state. And letting them know it wasn't a good time to receive pranks or bad news.

"What brings you here?" The person still did not answer, testing your patience. Your temper was fading, getting short from everything.

"Please just--" You couldn't finish your words, suddenly feeling lightheaded as you felt yourself fall forward.

The person infront of you catched you in their arms, and that's when you only smelt the familiar cologne.

Your eyes flew open at the familiar smell, swelling up with tears again. You forced yourself to look up despite feeling the pain in your head soreading everywhere.

"W-Will--"

Your fiancee carried you in his arms, lifting the back of your knees to his left hand and supporting your shoulders with the other.

i need you to come get me

You bursted out crying again, worsening the pain, but you couldn't care less. He was back.

Your lover is finally back.

He's here. Holding you in his arms, holding you close.

He closes the door with his shoulders and locks it with his elbow, carrying you upstairs and tucking you to your bed.

You reached up to him, lifting up your hand. "W-William..." You were asking him to get in bed with you.

He takes of his cloak and gloves, revealing the commoner clothes he was wearing. Rugged, almost dirty, but it was not the time to care. Infact, when it's him, you can't seem to care about anhthing else.

out of my dress, and

He places his hand on your forehead. "You have a fever, love." The first time you hear his voice in what feels like years.

It doesn't help again, you cried harder, hearing that soothing, gentle voice and sickly sweet nickname of his.

"You're here, you're back, you're finally back-- I--"

He kisses your forehead. "Yes, darling, I'm here, I'm here. Please, take a rest."

"Can you hold me, please?"

"Ofcourse." Always. He wants to add, but he, like you, was also desperate to hold you.

He gets in bed with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms and letting you tuck your head on his chest. He knows crying would only make you feel worse, but just this time, he lets you, for a moment.

into your arms tonight

You cry in his arms for what seems to be forever, until he takes your face in his hands, wiping your tears with his thumb and kissing your eyes, your forehead, your lips, your cheeks, your face, while whispering countless apologies.

"I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to disappear so suddenly and make you worry like that." The concerned and apologizing gaze in his eyes matched his apologies.

You stopped crying but continued to sobbed. "You-- you bastard, why would you..."

He tries to stiffle his chuckle, kissing your eye as an apology. "I'm really sorry, love. I swear on my family's honor, this will never happen again."

"Do you know how worried I was? Do you know what I went through, thinking what ifs? What if you got injured or bruised or caught or something or what if you di-- what if something bad had happened to you?" You couldn't even say it, afraid of jinxing it.

You continued to ramble on as he watched you with an apologetic and regretting gaze.

He raises your face towards his lips and kisses it tenderly, with so much care, so much gentleness, so much love.

And then finally, he says the words you've always been waiting for. It sets your mind calm, it sets your heart free.

And it lets you love him to the deepest part of both of you.

"Everything will be explained tomorrow. We will tell you everything, my love. So for now, please get well and rest. I cannot bear to see you like this." A smile stretches on his face when your frown disappeares and your face visibly gentles.

Because you'll let yourself burn if it means loving him.

tonight

#yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty #moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty x reader #william moriarty #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty #mtp x reader #ynm x reader #ynm william #mtp william #lazyalani

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finniestoncrane · 2 months

Note

love your piss fics with boomer. hope you write more now that kill the justice league is out with some wonderful cutscenes for us piss lovers<3

Life Goal

KTJL!Boomer x GN!Reader, word count: 500 i am NOTHING if not an indulgent little slut who would happily take a golden aussie shower 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: piss, spoilers, death reference, allusions to that cut scene so uh... disrepecting a corpse OOP

Taking a deep inhale and then sighing, filled with satisfaction, Digger spoke.

"Aw yeah. I'm gonna do it. Definitely."

You'd been resting on his shoulder, hand on his chest as you lazed on the sofa. He'd been silent throughout the movie, his thumb absent-mindedly stroking your arm, intermittently bending his neck to kiss your head. He'd been deep in thought, but given that his thoughts were usually pornographic in nature, you hadn't bothered pressing him. There was always something filthy rattling around in his dirty mind.

"Gonna do what, Dig?"

"When I kill the Flash."

"When, not if."

"Yeah! When I kill him!"

"Yeah?"

He turned to you, causing you to fall onto his chest, looking up into his excited green eyes as a crooked smile pressed into his freckled cheeks.

"When I kill him. I'm going to piss on his stupid corpse."

"What a noble life goal."

"Is it, isn't it."

Walking your fingers up his sternum and resting your palm in the centre of his chest, feeling his quickening heartbeat, you batted your eyelashes playfully.

"Will you let me help?"

He raised an eyebrow, confused and taken aback.

"You wanna piss on him too?"

You laughed, quick to shut that line of thinking down, but gently so.

“If you wanted me to, I’d think about it… But I was thinking more along the lines of a helping hand.”

Your free hand quickly skated up his thigh, gripping the ever-present bulge in his pants, his thick, impressive cock stuffed in tight.

“This has always seemed like a two person job, after all. I could help you hold it, so your arms don’t get tired, of course.”

His voice cracked ever so slightly as he spoke, a definite twitch against your palm as his cock began to stiffen.

"Really? I mean, obviously, I could do with the help. I'm never going to say no to any assistance."

"Is that so?"

Stroking his growing length, feeling the veins pulse through the thing layer of fabric between them and your hand, you felt your own arousal growing. He jutted his hips up a little, pushing at you to go further, begging you to, silently. As much as he loved a tease, he was far more interested in getting to the point of the action. Your soft skin against him, your hand tight, pumping, stroking. He realised he was holding his breath, a lopsided, brainless smile on his lips as he daydreamed.

You could sense his desperation, and you knew it wasn't fair to tease him with no intentions of providing any relief. So you spoke up.

"Maybe we should go practice then. I'd hate to mess up your big moment."

Digger jumped up from the sofa, almost sending you tumbling to the floor. He spoke as he ran to the bathroom, pulling his pants down as he walked.

"Righto, sweetheart! Hurry up! I could kill Flash at any moment!"

Rolling your eyes a little, but gleefully, you followed in his wake.

#cw piss #captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomer x you #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes #suicide squad #suicide squad kill the justice league

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slayingqueenchal · 1 year

Text

noble house of bullshit | draco malfoy x f!reader

Summary: draco and reader broke up because of stupid reasons, but they'll have to marry and this is about resolving your relationship

Warnings : angst, fluff, happy ending, fights, curse words, pet names like 'love and doll', you are Theodore nott twin sister, old wip

'My dearest daughter, y/n

We remember that you've mentioned about the malfoy boy several times, draco malfoy. And it seems like you two are perfect.

From what your brother have said to us a few weeks ago, we found out that you had an eye on malfoy, and malfoy might be interested in you too.

We thought it'll be great, so, we arranged some stuff with lucius and narcissa malfoy, and, they've got letters from draco, some is about you.

And we arranged some stuff, and thought it'll be best if you two will marry after finishing Hogwarts. We thought that, we'd wait until you actually had some one that you were interested in to, then arrange somethings.

We know this isn't the most thrilling choice, or maybe it is, we just want the best for our Pureblood family. We didn't know when to tell you, but Draco knew about this a week ago, and we thought he'd tell you but he didn't, so we told you our self.

Well, we'll be ending this letter here, but, have a great day, y/n, we miss you

-your father and mother, dorian and cornelia'

You dropped the letter. Marriage? After finishing Hogwarts? Were you gonna go crazy like bellatrix did?

Sure, if they told you that a week ago you'd be happy. The only person who knew you had a messy breakup with draco was theo, and blaise.

Theo have never shaded someone this much before. And, to see him having fun after breaking your heart was painful for you.

You climbed up to your bed, thinking about the good times you had with draco since the start of Hogwarts. The 'oh this is just a small crush' turned into 'oh, I fell for him'. Even with the quite questionable things draco has done, he was a sweetheart. You remembered everything vividly.

"Love? You okay? " Draco said. You weren't okay. "Draco, ginny is gone" You cried. Remembering the first year girl that you grew quite close too. "Ginny? Weasley? " Draco said, he sounded like he wad annoying. "As much as you hate her family, you'd feel sad if someone is gone, right? Wouldn't you be sad if i was gone? " You wiped your tears.

"Oh doll,'sorry that Ive said that, and, of course I'd be said if you were gone, I'd be a mess" Draco said.

You wished you hated Ginny, and for good reasons. If that hadn't happen you wouldn't grow feelings. If only you two stayed friends you'd be fine.

"What the fuck Draco! " You screamed. "What? Is it my fault that you probably just 'love me' because I'm a Pureblood? Oh please" Draco mocked. The tears came out of your eyes so easily. "I love you, draco, why'd you say that?" You looked down.

"Cause.. You know what never mind that, just, it's over alright, we're over. Go" Draco took your hands, but you threw it away. "You think I'd marry someone just because of their blood status. But no, I'd never do that" You walked out of his room.

"I'd never do that, he says" You scoff on your bed, sobbing. "I hate you" You curled up, hugging your pillow.

Someone opened the door and gasped. "Y/n are you okay? " Daphne said. "I'm not well, not really" You said. "Oh gosh, should I get Draco? " She said. Which, hit the spot. "Is Theo there? " You asked. "There? Where? ", " Common room"."yes, he is in the common room " Daphne gave a weak smile. "Thanks, Daphne, uhm, Im going to talk to him" You gave a smile.

"Theo" You walked down the stairs. To see the Slytherin boys circle. And that sadly includes both Draco, and Theo.

"Lo- y/n, you alright? " Draco said. But you didn't answer. "Can I talk to you for a second, Theo? " You gave a weak smile to the rest of the boys, but not even looking at Draco. "Sure" Theo walked away, well still in the common room, no one was really there, just some first year.

You immediately cried again. "Y/n". "Did you know? " You said. "What? " Theodore said. "Father and mother made me marry him! Some arrangement shit! " You cried, hugging him. "Him? Draco? " Theo guessed, and you nodded.

"I need to be tough, but I can't." You cried. "You don't need to be tough, y/n, you just need to be here, alright? We're gonna solve everything, alright, I'll tell mom something but, go to sleep, okay, I promise you'll feel better.

"Don't tell mother, or father" You said, receiving a sigh and a small nod. While that night was a rollercoaster and felt like a few seconds, it felt like hours for Draco.

Theo walked to draco, well the others sorta knee by then about what happened, so they walked away and sat on another spot.

"Draco. How dare you" Theo said. "How dare I? She was the one who 'loved' me just because I'm a Pureblood" Draco scoffed.

"Listen, you don't get to just have fun after breaking my sisters heart. She's a mess, and after a day you acted like nothing happened, like you and her never exists and it broke her, you broke her and now your parents and mine are arranging marriage between the two of you, so you better fix things, or I'll fix them my self" Theo threatened.

"She doesn't even want to talk to me! " Draco said. "And was I the guy who broke her heart? You are, and, Id you don't fix things to atleast platonic level you two will spend the rest of your live in misery, maybe just her cause you don't even care do you? " Theo scoffed.

"I care for her, I love her! Until mom told me that we were getting married. I don't want to get married so young and I don't want to be with her, not because I believe that she only loves me because of my blood status, but because I need her to be happy, I don't want her marrying someone like me, I might love and care about her now but who knows what monster I might become later, I don't want to hurt her more" Draco mumbled.

"Well you fucked up already, Draco, just, do something and be lovely for her alright, Daphne told me she, she's not really at her best state so just don't force her into anything" Theo said, patting dracos shoulders before leaving, deciding it was enough rambling.

Well, that night not only Draco stayed up late, but the whole dorm. Everyone heard draco sniffing and mumbling, and being scrunched up on his bed.

And little did he know, you were doing the same thing too.

The next morning was tough. The trip to the great Hall was tough. Draco was so close yet so far. His eyes looked puffy 'he probably stayed up late talking shit or something ' you thought.

You barely ate your food, just watching Draco from afar, watching the person you couldve been happy with. The person you could've married happily. But now it's grim.

The library was silent, reading dorian gray was fun, especially when your fathers name is dorian. The book you used to read with draco was Lord of the rings. You wanted to continue but, it was too much. 'What happened to frodo, what happened to the shire' is what you would've asked if you were fine, but right now you were asking yourself if you were alright. The sun goes down, and the moon comes up.

"Y/n? " You recognised the voice. "Go away, like you told me to go away" You huffed. "Y/n, just wait" He said.

You turned and look at the blonde. Showing your bloodshot eyes, but shockingly, he had bloodshot eyes too. "What do you want draco? Make me feel bad again? " You said.

"No, never again y/n, it was a mistake! I knew we were going to get married before you did. I didn't want you to marry someone like me" Draco said, sitting on the chairs next to you.

"Well, haha, it happens that I want someone like you, you Draco, is it so hard to accept that I fell for you? " You said, standing up and putting the book where it was.

"It's not, y/n I know you love me and you know I love you! " He says. You ignored him.

"I just don't, you, you broke my heart Draco and you were out there having fun with your friends. Even they have some bit of common sense to care for me! Even in a brotherly-platonic way! But oh, you were having the best time of your life. The boys were worried, even crabbe too, but you didn't care did you? That you just full on broke my heart? We couldve sorted this out. And if you didn't want to spend you years with me we couldve solved this in a better way than breaking me into a million pieces! It's just not fair! "You cried out.

"Y/n, y/n, calm down, will you, love? ", Draco slowly got closer to you. Draco looks at your eyes. " I'm sorry, y/n, I really am sorry. I love you and, to know that I broke your heart messed me up and made me a bit of an asshole, but, I swear I'll be the best husband ever, y/n, I love you"

"I'm sorry too, Draco, I was a bit hars-", " You didn't do anything wrong " Draco cut off. "Well in that case, I love you" You smiled, the first genuine smile.

"We'll grow a family free from blood purity and all of that noble house of bullshit, we'll be a loving family, alright, doll? " Draco said, receiving a smile and a nod.

#fanfic #fanfiction #y/n story #hogwarts #harry potter #draco angst #draco fic #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco imagine #draco fluff #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy x you

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accio-sriracha · 4 months

Text

Fight Me - Drarry Micro-fic :)

~~~♤~~~

"Oi, Potter!" Draco called, a smile on his face. He had been trying to goad Potter into an argument for nearly two weeks, he was yet to be successful.

Potter turned, stopping halfway to the Gryffindor table, "Yes, Malfoy?" He asked, his tone resigned.

"Have you heard the news lately? Everyone says that their precious Golden Boy's lost his touch." Draco came to a stop a foot away from him, "That true?"

Potter only closed his eyes, scratching the back of his head, "Did you need something, Malfoy?" He asked. Draco rolled his eyes,

"Obviously an answer to the question I just asked you. Now tell me. Is it true?"

Potter shook his head, his sigh deep, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you do. It's all over the news! Some people are starting to think you can't even do magic anymore."

"Of course I can." Potter replied, his tone detached.

"Prove it." Draco lifted his chin up, sure he was going to get his way this time.

"I'm not going to fight with you, Malfoy." He replied, turning to walk away. Draco caught him by the arm,

"The hell you aren't!" He called, giving him a small shove to the shoulder, "Fight me." He called again, "You know you want to, Potter. I know you're dying to let off steam. Well? Here I am. Fight me."

Potter only shook his head, the eyes Draco had always seen so full of fire had finally gone out,

"People died, Malfoy, don't you get that?" He asked, his voice quiet, "I don't care about our stupid rivalry anymore. It's not worth it."

"News flash, Potter. You're living in a tragedy. You want a spoiler? Everyone dies in the end. You may be one of the greatest wizards ever known, but you can't stop that fact. You can't save everyone. How's that for fucking magic? So stop hiding your tail between your legs and stand up for yourself! You're Harry fucking Potter! Don't just sit there and take it, you need to fight back!"

He knew he was being harsh, but he couldn't stand seeing Potter like this. So lifeless and... empty. He wanted to shake Potter senseless and tell him to snap out of it.

"Don't you get it? Don't you understand just how much they would kill to see you fall? Stand up for yourself for fucks sake, Potter!"

"You're causing a scene." He whispered.

Draco scoffed, "Like you ever gave a damn about who was watching you."

"I do." Potter's eyes flashed with hurt for just a moment, "I always have."

Draco tried to stop the joy that spread through him. He didn’t want to hurt Potter, but it was something. That flicker was more emotion then Draco had seen on his face in over a year.

"Then show them." Draco whispered, stepping closer, taking his chance, "None of them understand. None of them understand the violence, the pain, that it took for you to be this calm. You are not the type to stand still and take it quietly. Do something...Show them you're still just as powerful as you always were. Show them you're still the boy who lived."

He paused, staring at him with the expression he knew always pushed Potter over the edge before,

"Unless you really have lost it." He said, raising an eyebrow, "The rumors are probably true, you've gone soft, Potter. Too good now, aren't you? Dumbledore's perfect little golden boy. The world's hero, above all of us measley humans. You couldn't even hurt me if you tried, could y-"

His words were cut off as Potter yanked out his wand and held it against Draco's throat. Wild fury filled Potter's eyes and Draco did his best not to smile. He'd done it. He finally managed to get Potter riled up again the way that he used to.

He hated seeing the way he dragged himself around the castle, the dark circles under his eyes and the quiet, serious voice. He missed watching Potter laugh with his friends across the Great Hall, hearing the passion in his tone as he hurled an insult back at Draco. He missed Potter's fire.

"You know what, Malfoy? I don't give a damn who you think I am, or what kind of noble savior you all expect me to be. I could tear you apart if I wanted to!" He shouted, pressing his wand harder until it hurt for Draco to breathe. His fist was clenched around Draco's robes. There were collective gasps around the Great Hall.

Nobody had expected him to suddenly react the way he did, but Draco did, he had hoped for it.

"I could be exactly like him and there is nobody who would be able to stop me." Potter spat.

Draco gave a harsh laugh, his head tilting up when the wand pushed further, "But you won't. Why is that Potter? Why is it that you can't hurt me? Go on. Say it! You can't hurt me, Potter, and you know it."

"I'm not scared of you, Malfoy." He hissed. Draco raised an eyebrow,

"Bullshit!" He called. Potter spun them and pushed him against the wall,

"I died. Nothing scares me anymore. Especially not you."

"You're lying. I can see how terrified you are. Admit it to yourself!"

"What do you want from me?!" Potter shouted, his voice echoing in the now silent room.

"I want you to live Potter." Draco whispered, hoarse now, "I want you back the way you were, before the war. You don't eat anymore, you don't sleep. I haven't heard you speak in weeks. I want you to be a person again."

"I am a person." His voice dropped too, his resolve following with it.

"Tell that to them. You let them push you around, you let them walk all over you. I'm tired of seeing you not standing up for yourself."

Potter opened his mouth to reply, then slowly shut it again, the force pressed to Draco's throat softened slightly, "Why do you care?" He asked instead.

"You know why."

Potter stared silently at him for a long time before lowering his wand completely, "I'm sorry." He muttered, looking down. Draco shook his head,

"Don't you dare apologize. You want to do something for me? Pick yourself up. Stop sulking around the castle like some nobody. You're Harry fucking Potter. If I ever see you let them treat you like shit again I'll kick your arse for real."

Their eyes met, an intensity like Draco had never felt before passing between them.

Harry pushed off the wall, leaving Draco standing there alone, he walked out of the Great Hall, ignoring everyone staring at them.

Pansy walked up to Draco, her eyes darting around the room, "What the hell was that? Are you okay?" She whispered.

He nodded and turned to walk out after Potter without a word.

~~~♤~~~

#harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #harry x draco #draco x harry #drarry drabble #drarry microfic #drarry angst #angst

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year

Note

Bootycall!reader’s gonna end up with dick?? Damn I was hoping to find out how it was gonna go with Jason 😩

Dick stirred the pot on the stove and waited. Thankful you hadn't just called it quits. Glad that you were taking time to calm down- not that he didn't understand why you were pissed.

He should have talked to you.

Here he thought he was doing something noble. That he was playing it smart by waiting for you to bring it up- As if you'd leave something so important... something you didn't want him to see- Somewhere where it was so easy to find.

You were younger but you weren't stupid. You'd always been so direct. Telling him specifically what you wanted. Sure- it was likely that you'd have been nervous but.

"God damn it," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Get it together, Grayson."

Why had he told Jason?

Jason had been TRYING to pick a fight. He'd KNOWN what Jason was trying to do. And he'd just dove headlong into it. And for what? To prove you were his? That his dick was bigger? To Jason? Of all people.

God. It was ridiculous. So fucking ridiculous.

#Dick Grayson #Dick Grayson x reader #bootycall!reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert

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drarrily-we-row-along · 1 year

Text

Valentine's Card

"Honestly," Draco huffed as he set what had to be the 45th card he'd picked up back on the shelf. "This is ridiculous," he grumbled as he reached for the next.

"Can I help you with anything, sir?" a boy who couldn't be more than 17 asked him.

He looked him up and down before gesturing to the selection of Valentine's Day cards, "these are appalling."

"Not a fan of Valentine's Day?" he asked, voice annoyingly sympathetic as if a child could understand the pressure of choosing a Valentine's card for your childhood nemesis, turned work-rival, turned acquaintance, turned best friend, turned (recently) lover.

Although, as it happened, he wasn't particularly fond of Valentine's Day. "Not especially," he conceded. "But these are all so-" he broke off, searching for the right word, "trite. Cute. They make everything seem like relationships are just rainbows and butterflies, and they aren't."

"Err," the teen said, scratching his neck. "Well, I think lots of folks just want to pretend for a day that things aren't awful."

"My relationship isn't awful!" he protested, because he certainly didn't want the teen to go away thinking that. "My relationship is wonderful. He's stubborn, and pig-headed, and too noble for his own good. He drives me mental some days with his inability to think about his own needs. But he's the bloody love of my life and I wouldn't want him any other way."

"Right," the teen replied uncertainly, glancing around for someone to help him. "I don't think I'm supposed to say this, seeing as selling cards is what we do," he said, "but I don't think you're going to find anything like that here."

And Draco couldn't help it, the frustration of trying to find the perfect card melted away and he set down the card in his hand. "You're right," he replied. "Time to try my hand at making something again."

When he got home, he sat down at his writing desk and started to work; he didn't have much time before Harry turned up for their dinner date.

He was putting the finishing touches on the card when he heard Harry tumble out of the floo. Draco blew off the last bit of glitter as Harry came in, bouquet of roses in his hands. "For you," he said, holding them out and leaning in for a kiss.

"For you," Draco replied, offering him the card. "The boy at the shop told me that they didn't have anything that would say what I was trying to say, so I made it myself."

"Babe," he said, grinning at him with the soppiest expression before opening it and reading it aloud,

"Dear Harry, your stubbornness is bested by only your love, your strength by only your kindness. You make me feel like a mess, still I must confess, I'm rather obsessed, with the man who so loves my weakness."

Draco felt himself flushing bright red, uncertain of how the other man would respond. Really, if he'd had more time to think about it, Draco was sure that he wouldn't have even given it to him. "This was stupid-" he started.

Even as Harry looked up at him, eyes shining, "You wrote this for me?" he asked, clutching it to his chest and covering himself in glitter.

"Yes?"

"I love it," he breathed, leaning in to kiss Draco, "This is the sweetest-" he cut himself off to kiss him again. "I love you," he said against his mouth. "All of you," he added, looking pointedly at the last line of the card.

Draco laughed, "I know. But it means the most to me that you love me when I feel like I can't be enough."

Harry kissed him again, and then again, "You're always enough."

"Dinner?" he asked, feeling overly pleased with himself.

Harry shook his head and backed him toward the bedroom, "Dinner can wait."

---------------------

Written for the @hdcandyheartsfest prompt 'Valentine's Card'

Read more of my 2023 hdcandyhearts ficlets here.

#Fluff #soft #established relationships #am i using this fic as an opportunity to agree that draco wrote harry that terrible valentine's poem in book two? quite possibly #love #drarry #fluff #hdcandyheartsfest #the author knows nothing about writing poetry. please forgive any horrible errors i've made

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written-in-flowers · 1 year

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oh my! time for a request! I imagine something like, maybe, a Stark girl coming to King's Landing and she's all fierce and trains with ser Cole (or maybe uses bow and arrows idk) and Aemond sees that and is like "I want that, that's wife material" and just like falls for her and wants her. I know it sounds stupid but I believe you will write it beautifully.

The Dragon and The Wolf

(Note: I have SO MANY OC characters for this universe, so I'm definitely putting them to use lol)

***

She didn't like King's Landing, she quickly realized. The city was too hot and too crowded. It took their wheelhouse ages to get into the city, let alone up to the Red Keep. felt the heat through the holes in the windows; so much so, she removed her furs after a while. Peeking out the windows, she realized how disgusting the city looked. Buildings leaned on top of one another, creating narrow streets. Children ran barefoot or half-dressed through muddy, stinking streets. The worst smells back home were in the stables. Dyana missed the cool, crisp summer air; the tall sentinel trees that filled the forest and their godswood. She missed her brothers and little sister, who stayed behind because only she'd be leaving home.

To make a proper political alliance, Lord Stark and King Viseryes decided to bind their houses through marriage. She found it strange, since northerners married northerners or people from south of the neck, like her Riverland-born mother. Her mother tried convincing her marrying the prince would be beneficial to everyone. Yes, everyone but her. Dyanna did not mind doing her duty to her house. She always knew she'd marry a lord, run his castle and bear his children. She did not mind it at all. Dyanna might enjoy roughhousing, riding horses, and shooting her bow, but she liked dressing for balls, dancing with fine gentlemen, singing songs and reading and writing poetry. She became the noble lady her mother expected and her father approved of.

But, a part of her felt disappointed as the wheelhouse arrived inside the Red Keep's courtyard. She'd hoped to marry in a Northern lord, who'd understand her nature and customs. A southern lord, a prince no less, might not approve. He'll expect her to be a dutiful, compliant woman who will honor and obey him. Dyanna supposed she had no choice. Women in her position did not have one.

The wheelhouse stopped in the courtyard, and her father climbed out first. He didn't very much like the south either, but he wouldn't be living here like her. He'd go home to Winterfell, where snow covered the ground and hot water ran in the walls. She stayed frozen inside the wheelhouse, not moving even when he offered his hand to her. If she hid inside the carriage, maybe she wouldn't have to marry. But, that logic did not work on a grown woman.

"Dyanna," her father whispered, "Come now. You cannot sit in here forever."

"Father..."

"The King is waiting on you."

Dyanna took a deep breath, and stepped out of the wheelhouse. In front of her, a few yards away, stood House Targaryen. King Viseryes sat in a chair, a golden half mask covering the particularly nasty part of his face. Leprosy, she heard, claimed the king's eye and parts of his cheek. He appeared half out of his mind, someone drooped to one side on his chair with a walking stick. Dyanna pitied him. It must be difficult living in such a condition, where every moment was filled with pain. Beside him was the queen, Queen Alicent, wearing a green silk dress and emerald tiara. She truly was beautiful like people said. A proper queen, she stood tall and proud with the seven-pointed star of The Faith around her neck.

She saw the princess, Helaena, with two blond children at her sides. A dress of pale pink and gold, she seemed shy and timid. Dyanna figured she might as well get to know her, if they'd be sisters soon.

The prince Aegon, Heaena's husband and brother, was beside his father. His square face somewhat cantankerous and sleepy, she saw all the signs of a man post drink. She'd heard vile things about the king's first born; it made her sick considering they might be true after all.

Then, she saw Him. Standing straight, arms crossed behind his back and feet apart, Prince Aemond exuded power and strength. The first thing she saw was the eyepatch he wore on his left eye. She spotted the scars leading out onto his forehead and on his cheekbone. His long blond hair fell down past his shoulders, and shone in the sunlight. Ladies she knew said he scared them. He did not smile or show any emotion other than coldness when she approached. A soldier. That’s what he reminded her of.

Her father, the King and Queen all exchanged pleasantries. When he introduced her, she curtsied and thanked them for inviting them to their home. She was then led down the line, being introduced to the rest of their household. When she reached Aemond, she’ll admit he did frighten her. Not because of his eye, but because of the cold stare in his one good eye. She tried not focusing on the patch. She didn’t want her betrothed thinking her rude. She’d heard he was deadly with a sword, and flew the largest and strongest of their dragons.

“I heard you fly Vhagar,” she said, finding something kind to say.

“I do.”

“She is the mightiest of them. I’ve read all the stories.”

“Hmm.”

She’d punch him if they let her. The King then led them inside, being carried in his chair by footmen, saying they must be tired from their journey. Queen Alicent led them to their quarters herself. She asked after her mother, who she’d met months ago. Dyanna remained polite and cordial like her father expected. She never mentioned her dislike of the city outright. She simply said she found the captial interesting. But, it wasn’t the keep she wished to see.

It was their training yard.

After settling into her quarters, Dyanna slipped into her breeches, shirt and under bust vest. She told her septa she’d be in the yard, to which the woman protested as she rushed out the door. Calling on some of her father’s men, she led the group outside where she heard the familiar sounds of clashing swords. She spotted people watching her as she rushed down the steps into the courtyard. She saw men in leather armor dancing around one another with swords, morningstars, maces, and other weapons. Dyanna smiled, feeling the adrenaline rush beginning to flow through her as she reached the armory section. The man there told her the yard was no place for a lady, to which she and her men chuckled.

“Trust me, good ser, I am more than capable.”

She took up one of the lighter swords. She weighed it in her hand, and flipped it as she tested its balance. She expected nothing less from the King. Dyanna came back into the space, seeing all the men in front of her. She noticed a small crowd gathered around one side of the yard, catching the sight of two figures in the center. She recognized the white blond hair of Prince Aemond, and the dark figure she knew to be Ser Criston Cole, a member of the kingsguard. Dyanna came closer, the people moving aside as they lady appeared. Ser Cole waved around a mace, while the prince did his best to dodge. No, not his best. He expertly moved out of each swing, blocking one with a wooden shield that the weapon broke right through. He tossed the shield aside, and worked with only his sword. Dyanna admitted he was good. It reminded her of her older brother, a great swordsman in his own right. Finally, the prince took one more dodge from the mace and then went around Ser Cole and put his blade to the man’s throat.

“Well done, my prince,” Cole said, yielding to Aemond. “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” he replied. He flipped is sword handle and turned to Dyanna, “My lady, what brings you here?” He noticed her attire, and appeared confused.

“I wish to see your yard and to train with Ser Cole.”

Ser Cole looked at her quizzically, “Lady Dyanna?”

She smiled, realizing her recognized her, “Hello, Ser Cole. It’s been a while.”

“A very long while,” he agreed. They shook hands, and he turned to Aemond, “Lady Dyanna is quite the swordsman, Your Grace. I saw her spar against one of the Baratheon boys at Maidenpool.”

“A woman wielding a sword?” it was not discouraging or judgmental. He sounded curious, though he tried to hide it. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“My father says I have wolf’s blood in me, Your Grace,” she replied with a grin. “I picked up a sword as a little girl, and never put it down.”

“Your lord father allows it?”

“He does. My mother doesn’t approve exactly, but as long as I keep up with my lessons and womanly duties, she tolerates it.” She looked back to Ser Cole, “I’ve been waiting for us to meet again, I will confess, ser. We never got the chance to go toe-to-toe at Maidenpool.”

“No better time than the present, my lady. That is, if His Grace doesn’t mind?”

Prince Aemond stared her up and down. He studied her, she knew. She tried standing straighter, putting her shoulders back and chin up. “Not at all,” he said, “But none of us are responsible if you are injured.”

“I don’t expect anyone to take responsibility except myself.”

She did her best to not appear disagreeable. Dyanna met men like Aemond all the time. Men who doubted her skills. She enjoyed proving them wrong.

***

It amused him to see her standing there, sword in hand and wearing boiled leather. Not because she was a woman, but because she appeared so confident. When his father told him he’d be marrying Dyanna Stark, his brother Aegon had snorted. “A dragon bedding a she-wolf,” he’d taunted. Aemond didn’t care. He’d marry Dyanna no matter what happened; it was his duty to his house. A person of his station needed to marry well, and who better than a Stark of the North? It allied the crown with the vast, wild North beyond.

People spoke of Dyanna’s tomboyish ways, but they never said anything about her beauty. Gray eyes stared at Ser Cole with determination as they began clashing swords. Brown hair stayed braided back from her face, the long braid swinging behind her. Hours of training must have given her the shape she had, making her stronger and faster. Aemond stood to the side and watched her expert footwork, her swift dodges and fierce blows. He noticed the work Ser Cole put into the fight. Dyanna would not go down easily, he saw. He liked it. House Targaryen needed strong women; not only with their minds, but their bodies. He observed her throughout the tough match. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

When Dyanna’s sword stuck into Ser Cole’s shield, Aemond expected him to stop due to her being a woman. He’d been wrong. Ser Cole charged at her, and Dyanna rolled out of the way. She grabbed the broken shield Aemond discarded moments ago, and blocked Cole’s next blow. She swung it so his shield went to the side, then took the open opportunity to kick him back. Taking up her fallen sword, she swiped it at the fallen knight, who rolled away in time and stood up. He retrieved his shield, and blocked her next few moves before he swung the shield up into the side of her face. People around his gasped, but Dyanna did not quit. She fell to the ground hard, falling flat on her front before Cole put his blade to her throat.

Dyanna laughed, being lifted to her feet and starting to talk with Cole. He saw the man begin showing her moves he’d used against her, which intrigued him. Perhaps marrying her would not be so bad. If anything, he’d gain a good sparring partner.

“You fight well,” he complimented. “I never expected the rumors about you to be true.”

“What rumors?”

“That the She-Wolf of Winterfell was a fierce as they believe.”

She smiled shyly, “I do well. I’ll never fight in a battle or a war, but I still like knowing how to defend myself.”

He stepped closer, Ser Cole taking the cue to leave them, “But, if you had a husband, you wouldn’t need to defend yourself. He’d protect you.”

She paused, “What if he isn’t around?”

“He’ll always be around.” He twirled his sword in his hand, “Care to spar with me now, my lady?”

She grinned, “I’d be honored, Your Grace.”

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

***

A/N: thanks for putting this in! I know I took a bit from his fighting scene with Cole, but I really liked that part so I couldn’t help it. I hope you still enjoy it!

#aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd drabbles #hotd fanfiction #got #game of thrones #asoiaf

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venmotif · 8 months

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I was thinking abt kohaku. bc rereading dark nights passing, except in eng they translated it to something stupid like awakened night patrollers. but thats not important

warning: this gets long

kohaku thinks he's a bad person, but he's really not - I actually find his moral compass incredibly strong given the circumstances he was born into and lives with. he's thoughtful and incredibly introspective, so he's done a lot of thinking in order to reconcile with the undeniable fact that what he and his family do is shady and considered immoral by society. and the conclusion that kohaku comes to is incredibly self sacrificing but honestly very noble. he mentions repeatedly that he'd rather have his hands stained, and have to live with the guilt of doing terrible things, if it meant that the greater parts of society could walk with clean consciences. he talks extensively abt how important doing things for the good of society is, even at the expense of the individual; while it can be called unfair that he's been born into circumstances like this that force him to be the one to do dirty things and he can lament that fact, he recognizes it as his duty, and he's dedicated to carrying it out to his utmost in order to protect the people he loves

kohaku recognzies that his actions are terrible, but commits to the ideal that society can be a better, cleaner place at the expense of himself. he mentions dreaming about a day when people like him and madara are no longer needed. kohaku sees himself as disposable, and just a necessary tool for society to use to handle the things no one else wants to touch, and then to be thrown away

when he and madara are collecting information about gfk, madara mentions how ibara always leaves himself an out of any situation, and that kohaku should think about doing the same - if their plan to eliminate gfk failed, he could pin the blame on madara and say madara threatened him. kohaku denies this vehemently.

he understands that his responsibility is undesirable, but he commits to it and does not think, ever, about shirking it in order to save himself. "don't be a fool. don't be like rinne - I never intend to pass my sins on to someone else," he tells madara(ch9). in fact, kohaku seems baffled and probably a bit annoyed in this case(madara loves egging him) that anyone would want to protect him, because he's already dismissed himself as expendable

he mentions madara, rinne and tsukasa as people who are "foolish" enough to care about kohaku's wellbeing, despite knowing what he does. he loves aira and cares about him deeply, and the same is true in reverse, but he tries to keep this part of himself hidden from aira in order to preserve aira's idealism towards idols, since he knows how much aira loves them

kohaku seems to think that if he told aira the truth, aira would no longer love him, for shattering his worldview, but almost certainly aira would care for him all the same - aira already knows what he did as crazy:b, after all, even if afterwards a bunch of blame was shifted around so crazy:b wasn't technically at fault. aira talks to leo while double face are gearing up for their job and expresses concern for kohaku because he mentioned that he had "shady work" and he'd distanced himself from aira shortly after - but after talking to leo, aira comes to the understanding that kohaku's distancing himself in order to protect aira, a person important to him. the funny thing is aira can't believe that kohaku cared about him that much - he thought his deep affection for kohaku only went one way(like an idiot. a loveable one though)

the thing is kohaku cannot fundamentally understand why people would want to care about him as himself, flaws and dirty work and all. he fails to realize that even with his dirty work as a factor, he has an incredibly strong moral character and cares deeply for other people, both generally as a greater society and specifically the people he loves. in fact, because of how he dismisses himself, he dedicates all his energy to improving the world for others, and his self esteem keeps himself from recognizing why other people would want to do the same for him

it's because you're a good person, kohaku. very lovable, murder and all

#jesus this is fucking long #he deserves a hug. emotional support pink murder child #nemeraki #enstars #ensemble stars #kohaku oukawa #nemo.txt

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sanctuary1988 · 2 months

Text

~ Owned Flower |2| Gwi

French: /the petals of love/

Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

Warnings: strangers to lovers? fluff, angst, minor injury, burns, mentions of marriage, talks about arranged marriage, period typical misogyny, age gap (huge), historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 2.4k words

A/N: Second part of this series! Thank you all for the love the first chapter received, hope you will enjoy this as well. 🫶

You were mesmerised at the sight of the underground palace the handsome stranger you came to learn his name was Gwi lived in. You dared not ask any questions for he had told you not to, you simply followed him around in silence, your hand still clasped in his much larger palm.

"You will live here from now on, petal."

He spoke, that thunderous voice of his made you shudder as you looked up at his side profile, taking in his sharp features. He sensed your stare and looked down at you, halting in his steps as you danced in his dark eyes.

"Can you really prevent my marriage, My Lord?"

Gwi smirked down at you, that same smirk he had shown you at the gardens before he was to drag you down to his home.

"Don't doubt it, sweet (y/n). I can do that and much more for you."

The smell that radiated from you was intoxicating. Even more so to him as the full moon was tomorrow, his eyes nearly glowed red at the mere thought of tasting your blood but he had to physically restrain himself. A part of him didn't want you to be scared of him. Not like everyone else was. He didn't want to see such fear in your beautiful eyes.

"What do you want in return, My Lord?"

You weren't stupid, you knew the kindness of this mysterious lord was not free and that he'd want something from you. You just hoped it was something you could give him. He took a step forward and you tensed, he felt it as your hand grew rigid in his hold. You swallowed, never breaking eye contact with the man who towered over you.

"I want you to stay by my side forever."

His eyes roamed over your beautiful features, feeling entranced by your beauty and your intelligence. You were smart enough to know there was a price for his kindness, he couldn't wait to see what other thoughts resided in that precious head of yours.

At your lack of response he took a step back and continued walking down one of the tunnels, dragging you next to him. Once again, you followed him in silence until you both arrived at a large room with a stone throne in the middle. You swallowed as your eyes lingered on the beautifully crafted throne, torches and candles were all around the place to illuminate it in its own darkness and you couldn't help but feel a strange safety within those walls of the underground palace.

Gwi walked down the right tunnel letting go of your hand when he turned to the large hallway. You instantly shivered at the lack of contact. You didn't know if it was because you missed having your hand in his or because the tunnels were truly cold.

The corridor eventually transformed into another room also adorned with torches and candles. A big cherry blossom was planted on the ground as little rays coming from the moonlight illuminated the grand tree coming from the ceiling... or rather the ground above you.

"You'll stay here. If there's anything you need you'll come to me and me only, do you understand?"

He turned to look at you with a sharp motion that made you tense once more at the swiftness of his movements. You looked into his dark eyes, having too many questions to ask, too many answers you needed. But his emotionless gaze made you swallow your words, you nodded instead and he smirked once more. You didn't know if it was a good sign or if he was growing annoyed by your lack of words but he didn't comment on it.

"When I call for you, you must always come to me. If I refuse your presence, you must leave without another word. I expect absolute obedience from you, petal. After all, you are now mine."

You took a step forward, eyes fierce as you looked at the handsome man in front of you with a confident air around you.

"Not yet, My Lord. Once my marriage is cancelled, you may ask whatever you wish from me. Until then, I am not owned."

Gwi looked down at you with emotions you weren't quick enough to grasp. You feared for a second you had been too bold with your words. Your father's lectures came to your mind as soon as the last word left your lips. He always told you to stay silent. "Pretty things aren't supposed to speak, dear." Oh, how you hated when he spoke of you like that.

But Gwi's reaction made you expel those thoughts from your head as he lifted an eyebrow at you before his smirk returned to his lips.

"Petal, you do indeed have very sharp thorns."

You swallowed, never breaking eye contact with the handsome lord even when his dark eyes intimidated you the most. He lifted his chin in the air, as if he were silently admiring you. In a way, he was.

“Are you challenging me?”

His deep voice drawled out and you had to fight back the shiver that travelled up your spine. His icy glare froze your insides while it also set you aflame.

“I wouldn’t dare, My Lord. I am simply stating what’s fair.”

He laughed, the echoes of it were so melodiously delicious something clenched inside you at the sound. The deep laugh resonated over the walls of your now new room and you couldn’t help but marvel at the deepness of it.

“Life’s script is written with ink of unfairness, petal. Never settle for something that doesn’t exist.”

You frowned at his deep truth. Something about those words was awfully true yet it didn’t settle well with you. However, among his words was a subtleness that stirred your heart. Almost as if he had purred those words out for you.

He watched you with narrowed eyes, his gaze cold and firm over your form. Gwi couldn’t stop watching you. Like a beautiful rose in his forbidden garden. Intriguing.

Counselor Lee walked through the dark corridors of the underground palace. He was quick on his pace as he had been summoned by the powerful vampire that ruled over the kingdom.

However, what he didn't expect was to see you there. His own daughter, serving the monster he feared over the king himself. You simply bowed down at the sight of your father without saying a word, not that you have ever had a good relationship with him to begin with.

"What are you doing here?"

He asked, walking hastily towards you before his hand grabbed at your upper right arm. You hissed at the force of his hold, nearly making you spill the tea from the cup you held in your hand. You opened your mouth to protest, to say you were alright and that you wanted to stay when he spoke once more, making you swallow your words.

"You are coming with me, (y/n). This is not a place for you."

"Stop it!"

But he simply yanked you forward and some of the steaming tea dropped on your hand, making you whimper at the burning sensation on your delicate skin.

"Let her go, Counselor Lee."

Gwi spoke from behind you. Your father's actions halted as he turned to look at the vampire of the menacing eyes. You breathed heavily as you looked between the two men in the room. Gwi's eyes focused on the aged hand on your upper arm and he took a step forward, his eyes never leaving the hand that held you in your place.

"I said let, her, go."

A shiver ran down your spine at the deepness in his voice. Your father released you from his tight hold and you stepped back on instinct, cradling the nearly empty cup of tea to your chest as you watched the interaction in front of you with wide eyes and a racing heart.

Counselor Lee lifted his chin in the air, his hands tangled in front of him as he addressed the lord before him.

"You summoned me, My Lord, however, I do inquire why my daughter is here."

Gwi smirked, walking over to his throne with slow and calculated steps that gave away just how much power he held over the room and, unknowingly to you, over the entire kingdom.

"I demanded your presence to let you know the marriage between your daughter and Kang Ju Won has been cancelled. I no longer deem it appropriate for such a union to take place in this palace. Consider me telling you personally a kindness of mine."

Your father went pale at the news you thought he was going to collapse right there and then. You turned to look at Gwi only to witness the imposing aura the man had over you and your father. You looked back at your father as he spoke with a raspy voice; it nearly made you scowl at the sound of that voice he used when he disciplined you.

"Why did you change your mind, My Lord? The marriage would surely be of benefit to you in the Council."

Gwi looked aside with a bored expression over his sharp features. His elbow rested on the armrest of his throne as he looked around, his fingers tapping on the armrest in a rhythmical pattern only to chase away the boredom that seeped into his bones as this conversation didn't seem to end.

"I do not owe you any explanation, Chief Counselor."

Your father bowed down at Gwi with stiff motions. You swallowed when his eyes locked with yours, silently telling you to leave the underground palace with him.

"If you agree, My Lord, I'd like to start searching for another suitable husband for my daughter. She cannot remain unmarried as she is."

Gwi chuckled, that deep sound that made you shiver as you burned at the presence of the man who promised you freedom in exchange of your own soul.

"Do not fret yourself with that, Counselor Lee. Your beautiful daughter now serves me, therefore she will not marry another man for she belongs to me from this day on."

You saw how your father gulped, visibly tensing in front of the man who had saved you from your doomed destiny only to tie you next to him forever. As if you owned him something. In a way, you did. You had traded your freedom, willingly knowing that you had never been free in the first place. You were a woman. A pretty doll to be owned and be cared for. Oh, how you hated it.

Counselor Lee bowed down before he retrieved himself from the vampire’s presence. He sent you an icy glare, one that you ignored as you held yourself in your place, lifting your chin ever so softly. Silently telling him you weren’t going to back down upon his domineering power over you. Not anymore.

“Come here.”

You jumped slightly at the sudden deep voice that resonated across the walls. You followed to where Gwi was without a word, steps cautious and precise as you approached his large throne. With firm eyes, you watched him sit down as his eyes met yours. Gwi motioned you to come over and you obliged, again in silence. Intimidated by the power he held over the room.

His eyes never left your form, locking with your own as you stopped in front of him. Something about the sight in front of him made his cold heart shudder within him. His eyes, dark in their nature, had a beautiful reddish tint over them that you found yourself hypnotised by them.

Your heart skipped a beat when his unusually cold hand held yours. With attentive eyes, you watched him. Watched as his long fingers ran over the back of your hand. His touch was featherlike as the skin was still sensitive due to the hot tea that had spilled over your hand.

He took the cup from your grasp and put it on a wooden crafted table at his right. You watched as he grabbed an ointment with two fingers before he was applying the substance on your skin.

Gwi looked into your eyes when he heard you hiss, your hand tensing in his hold but he only gripped it tighter.

“Sorry for spilling the tea.”

He tilted his head ever so softly as you lifted your gaze from your joined hands back to his mesmerising eyes. He smirked, that smirk that seemed to be engraved over his lips for eternity.

“You can always make more. Your skin, however, is as precious as hidden diamonds in the sand.”

Without resistance at all, you pulled your hand from his hold and the sudden loss of skin made you shiver in the cold underground palace. Gwi looked at you with interest, with delight over all the things he had ever possessed. For you did not fear him. Not now, not ever.

The full moon was that night, his senses were stronger than ever. His thirst for blood nearly got the best of him as he looked at you. As he held your hand in his, as he gazed at your exposed neck. Nearly hearing the blood pumping through your veins.

“Go back to your room. Don’t come out until I call for you.”

With elegance, you bowed down at him. Delicate steps left his presence without another glance. When you were out of sight, Gwi let out a deep sigh. The scent of you was intoxicating. Mesmerizingly addictive. And with his senses heightened, he barely restrained himself. The temptation was there. To bite you. To savour your sweet blood. To hear you whimper in his ear.

To be honest, he didn’t know why or how this new infatuation with you started. But a very deep part of him delighted in your innocent mind when it came to his true nature. Something that once the vampire took pride of, now felt the need to hide it. Because he wasn’t fully human. He was a monster. A blood-thirsty monster that killed to survive in that sadistic way he absolutely loved. But the very thought of you seeing him in his true form, in you gazing into his eyes that would no longer be dark brown but crimson red with the manifestation of his powers, made his heart -as stoic as he claimed it to be- clench inside him.

For you now were his to serve. His to claim. His to cherish. For all time to come. A cared flower. A fallen rose.

An owned petal.

February/21/2024

#lee soo hyuk #gwi x reader #kdrama #sanctuary1988 #scholar who walks the night #gwi #lee soo hyuk characters #vampire #the scholar who walks the night #kdrama series #korean drama #korean actor #kactor #gwi x reader fluff #gwi x reader angst #les pétals d'amour

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anonymous-tals · 9 months

Text

I was thinking about the scenes where Gob does something gay and Michael straight up doesn’t acknowledge it, as if nothing even happened, and as much as that says something about Gob and how frequently he must be doing gay things to make it so normalized and unremarkable, it also says something about how good Michael is at compartmentalizing; how good he’s had to get at it. He has no room for emotions. And while it may come off like he doesn’t have any, like he’s a robot, to put it in Gob-terms, it’s really that he just doesn’t have time for emotions. He’s basically- No, not even basically. He is in charge of taking care of his family and there is near constant stuff going wrong. He’s plugging leaks on a sinking ship; that’s his job and it has been since he was a child. He doesn’t have time to properly fix anything but *gasp* it would be selfish of him to ever think to build a new boat and abandon this one, how dare he! That’s what he was taught. He knows how awful his parents are, how exhausting it is having to constantly pick up after his siblings, but he’d be “selfish” for abandoning them and so he has to stay and help the boat stay afloat. And even though some holes are larger and more concerning than others, he’s been taught those ones are less important. And he’s probably also learned that those take a lot longer to effectively patch up so those are hastily dealt with before focusing on the other ones he can “more easily” attempt to quickly and effectively patch up, the ones seen as priority.

If it wasn’t clear, the larger, more concerning holes are the ones about emotions.

When your life is as chaotic as Michael’s, certain things will take precedent over others. Things that involve emotions can take time, especially in this family where the trauma they’d be unpacking runs wayyyy deep. AND unpacking those traumas, even just those of his siblings, would lead to Michael having to more deeply acknowledge that maybe he really should jump ship on this metaphorical boat. If he acknowledges that his siblings need more than sucking it up and getting a job, the curtain already thinly veiling his trauma would become practically see through and again, he doesn’t have time for emotions, he has a company to keep afloat, so that cannot happen.

Ah, his parents are just kinda jerky, ya know? They can just be kinda jerky sometimes, nothing more. Everyone has conflict with their parents sometimes. That’s just family stuff, ya know? Parents can be jerks and you just gotta deal with that sometimes…all the times…But they’re only a little jerky so it doesn’t- it doesn’t even really mean anything.

But his parents having him prioritize them and the company is what's making the boat sink because the larger, more concerning holes are just getting bigger and bigger and more impossible to just patch up but Michael just has to be like, "Dang, hole, uhhh, a bit dramatic of you to continue getting bigger and bigger and more impossible to just patch up, huh?" BUT THAT DOESN'T FIX HOLES. They're still there, gaping and splintered and ultimately, those holes will be what lead to their death; or at least, a faster death since that ship was doomed to sink, with or without the siblings on board. But it's hard to blame him cause what he's been taught to do! It's how he survives. It's how he stays sane. It's how he rationalizes it all. Even all the way in season five when the company is in shambles and I'm pretty sure the only two people working at the company are Adhir and Gob, Michael is still dedicated to keeping it afloat. The captain goes down with the ship but Michael's not going down in a noble or courageous sense. His parents have shoved him at the wheel, imposed dedication and taught a lack of self preservation or care or prioritization. This boat is trash but he can't let go, otherwise, his efforts have been for nothing and he'd be a failure. Of course, Stupid Michael couldn't save the ship. Does he even care about his family?

#another day another arrested development essay written #starting to put out all my other AD thoughts #i’ve delved into Gob a lot #but I have a lot of thoughts about the other siblings too #michael bluth #jason bateman #gob bluth #will arnett #lindsay bluth #portia de rossi #buster bluth #tony hale #arrested development #i love boat metaphors

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