#i don’t know anything about armor haha

[infamous-if]

.2

I know, I know. It took 2 months to write the second drabble from the poll but...this is not even a drabble anymore. Instead, it's more of a collection of scenes mostly because if I do write how Orion found and began managing the band it would be an entire chapter. I will say that I condensed this due to that, but if I ever do write the whole thing it might look a *little* different. I had to cut corners and shorten scenes for the sake of length. Still, hope you like it! (This is 4, 363 words btw. what is wrong with me) I should probably find a more efficient way to share such long works but whatevs. As always, ignore any mistakes or typos or wordy sentences or sentences that probably make no sense upon reading it a second time. I don't edit drabbles and I always just publish the first drafts. haha.

“…Love me and hate me, I don’t mind as long as you take me—”

A low grumble rises in Orion’s throat when the song pauses, the car falling into an unfamiliar silence just as it slows in front of a red light. His large hands tighten their grip on the wheel, and his eyes glide to his co-worker, Marty, just as he’s pulling his hand away from the PAUSE button on the console. 

“Is there a reason you’re touching my stuff?” Orion asks, his voice carrying its usual calm that holds a level of ice that has even his superiors shuddering when they think he’s not looking. 

Marty licks his lips, his face twisting into its usual expression of guilt. Orion softens his face for his friend’s sake.

Orion Quinn knows the impact he has on people. The rumors that plague him have reached his ears on multiple occasions; he’s a shell of what he once was, never having gotten over the one who got away. He’s detached, the merciless worker that the boss goes to when he’s in need of someone who can do the firing.

 He’s the one people are afraid of crossing or talking casually to in fear of letting something slip. People fear him more than they fear the execs. 

It wasn’t always like this, sure. Once, Orion used to smile freely, used to talk openly and wear vulnerability like a favorite coat. But then the divorce happened and sides were taken. Suddenly, the armor he didn’t know he had was reinforced, dented and bruised from a battle he didn’t expect to fight, but reinforced nonetheless. 

Never date your co-workers. 

“The song is terrible, man.” Marty sighs, running a hand through his oily brown hair when he plops back in the seat. The same seat he pushed back at a 120-degree angle. Admittedly, it makes Orion’s nerves flare up. He says nothing;  he has enough self-awareness to know that complaining about his seat is a bit too much, even for him. “I was doing both our ears a favor.”

The light changes and Orion absently drums his fingers on the wheel as he drives on ahead, eyes gliding outside to soak in the densely populated street underneath the rising sun. “Yeah.” The word comes out in a resigned breath. “I was hoping it’d get better.” 

“We were on the bridge,” Marty throws back. “The only way it could get better is if it ended.” Orion’s lip twitches and of course, Marty can’t let it go. ”Oh! That was an almost-smile.” He leans forward to poke Orion’s rib. 

Orion lets out a laugh before his face quickly drops.

Marty grins, plopping his elbow on the ledge of the car door. “All I’m saying is you’ve been listening to demos nonstop this whole month. Not once have I seen you even mildly excited for any of them.”

Orion grits his teeth. “I haven’t had anything substantial to show the team in ages. Our last artist pulled out on signing with us last minute. Our established artists aren’t selling as well anymore. The industry is getting oversaturated—“

“—and we need to be ahead of the curve. Yadda, yadda.” Marty rolls his eyes. “Do you ever just relax? Damn. That stick up your ass is ten-feet lon—“

Marty chokes on his words when Orion’s eyes cut to his. “Say anything else and I’m kicking you out of my car.” 

Marty pouts but relents anyway, choosing to change the subject. “What about dating?”

Orion keeps his eyes on the road but quirks a brow. “What about it?”

“You know…” Marty starts, gesticulating vaguely as he searches for the right words. “Maybe putting yourself out there could help you relax. Or even inspire you—“ 

“No.”

“What? Okay, but—"

“Not interested.”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to sa—“

“Don’t have to.” 

Marty huffs and says nothing for a long moment. Neither of them rush to fill the silence; normal for Orion but unusual for his infinitely more talkative friend. It’s only when he pulls into Carolina Records’ parking lot that Marty speaks again and Orion realizes his silence was really just contemplation.

“I know the divorce was difficult,” he starts, delicate, “but—“

Orion’s jaw clenches.

“— that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

Orion sits there a moment, fingers clenching into fists. “It’s not giving up if I never tried in the first place.” He swings open the door and steps out, the car door slamming with a hint of finality.

. . .

Carolina Records boasts a twenty-floor skyscraper made up of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and sleek, dark marble floor. Orion has been here since he graduated college; going from a measly intern to an A&R representative responsible for finding two of the most promising artists in the company. 

That was a year ago. Since then, the well of new talent has dried up and Orion doesn’t know what to do.

Of course, he was offered higher positions, all of which he quickly denied. Orion always had a knack for numbers and trends, discovering what new genre is going to come to the forefront, seeing what kind of music the general public is listening to. Music: he understands it better than people. His understanding is almost clinical: while people listen to it for enjoyment, Orion seeks the patterns, the feelings that every beat and scale and vocal run they invoke. He takes it apart and puts it together like a surgeon does a patient. It just makes sense to him. 

He could do so much more, he knows that, but none of that interests him.

The music—that’s what he likes. 

Discovering new talent is what excites him. Which is why this odd dry spell has him walking with gritted teeth and tension between his shoulders-blades. He has to do something.

“Mr. Quinn.” 

Orion nods at a woman who passes by the hallway, ignoring the way Marty does a whole spin when he tracks her retreating frame down the hall.

Another one. This time a man from the marketing department. “Good Morning, Mr. Quinn.” 

“Morning.”

Marty scoffs when the man continues walking, not sparing him a glance. 

“Am I chopped liver or something?” Marty complains.

“Mr. Quinn, hey!”

“Hi.” Orion nods his head once and presses the elevator button. When his eyes land on a frowning Marty he says, “You’re just not sociable.”

“Huh?!” Marty then lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched sputter of a laugh. “And you are?”

Orion frowns. “Yes.”

Another laugh. “You’re smart, dude, you know it’s more because of that”— he gestures vaguely at him—“than your social skills.”

The elevator doors open with a cheerful bell and they step inside. “What?”

“You know.” Marty shrugs. “Your face. You look like you should be on a billboard advertising overpriced cologne with your shirt unbuttoned and your hand in your hair talking about your luxurious life or something.”

“That’s…specific.”

Marty shrugs. “I read a lot of GQ.” 

Orion wrinkles his nose when they spin to face the doors. “While it is true I would be considered objectively handsome by societal standards—“

“Oh, fuck off.”

“—I don’t think that’s the case.” This time Orion lets out a small smile. “Or maybe it is?” He quirks a brow at his co-worker. “Should I send a gift basket to my parents? A ‘thank-you-for-the-superior-DNA gift?’”

Marty shakes his head.  “You know, when you do try to be funny you still sound like an asshole.”

Orion hums, the joke tickling him enough for him to let out his first smile of the day. 

The elevator doors sing their arrival and they bid farewell once they part to go to their respective offices. Orion strides to his corner office where another one of his co-workers, Kass, is standing with a box in her hands.

“This week’s demos.” Orion is just putting his arms out when she plops the boxes on them. “You should really stop requesting unsolicited demos. It’s such an outdated way of doing things.”

Orion ignores her and unlocks his office door, turning the knob and pushing it open with his hip. His office is barren but spacious, with high windows overlooking the city. Marty told him once that people would kill to have his office, but really it’s just like any other space. What’s an office without a productive person to work in it? Orion hasn’t done anything of meaning in weeks.

Sighing, he drops the box on the table unceremoniously, picking up the first CD on the top of the pile. GROUNDED IN REALITY reads the title, and it’s so apt that he almost chucks the CD in the trash on that very fact alone. Still, he’s nothing if not fair. Another sigh escapes him and he gets to listening. 

. . .

Helpless.

That’s how he feels.

After hours of listening, the music has long since blurred together in a portrait of uninspired melodies and generic, radio-friendly lyrics. Nothing stood out, nothing made him want to dig into the song in search for more, nothing made him feel.

Is it me? Am I the problem?

Jaw clenched, Orion fishes out his phone, the usual flinch coming to him when he sees the background. He forgot to change it, and it’s always an (unwanted) surprise whenever he sees a picture of them together. 

One year ago. The beach. Happy.

Shaking his head, he sends a quick text to his mother telling her that he’ll have to raincheck on their dinner. He still has half a box of songs left. Looks like he’ll be staying late.

“Yo, Orion!” A knock. “Let’s go! I want to driiink.”

Or not.

Marty strides in without waiting for an invitation, a grin on his face. “Tab is on me.”

“Do you ever work?” Orion asks, eyes half-lidded in equal parts annoyance and indifference. 

His friend frowns. “This is work.”

“I don’t think getting drunk is in the job description.” Orion looks down, absently clicking on the button of his mouse in an effort to busy his hands. 

“Wah, wah. Don’t be a fucking party pooper.”

 “Too late.”

Marty shoots him a look. “A few artists are playing tonight. Call this recruitment.” He uses spirit fingers. “Maybe you’ll even loosen up for once.” When Orion looks at him, a brow raised, Marty drops his hands. “Yes, I do my job sometimes. Don’t look so surprised.”

“It’s not that,” Orion starts. He doesn’t immediately continue. Instead, they simply stare at each other. Marty wiggles his brows as Orion narrows his gaze. “When you say the tab is on you—“

Marty whips out a black card. “Company card, baby!”

Orion palms his face with a long groan as Marty begins to moonwalk across Orion’s office. “I was perfectly fine staying inside.” Even though he says this, a moment later he stands and grabs his trenchcoat from the back of the chair. “And you’re driving.”

“What!” Marty stomps his foot as he follows him out. “Nooooo.” 

. . .

The bar sits in a livelier part of the city, a part that Orion doesn’t often find himself in. It’s less about the scene and more about the memories associated with every damn corner of this place. Orion can pluck a memory from his mind like a petal from a rose garden: the diner they went to and fought for fifteen minutes over who would get to pay the bill, the park they spent their lunches at.

The shop where he bought the ring.

“This place is golden,” Marty says, breaking Orion out of the string of memories he wishes he could erase forever, “it’s like a real gritty, underground hole-in-the-wall vibe.”

“Sounds like fun,” comes out of Orion in a dour tone that has Marty rolling his eyes. 

They stride through the neon glow of the brick hall until it opens up to a dimly lit bar. The space is humble; the sparse crowd is compensated by the energy of the performers on the stage. 

“Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn…?”

“Is the band really covering Fountains of Wayne?” Orion says through gritted teeth.

Marty bites his lower lip, his obvious attempt to stifle laughter only making Orion’s faux horror flare even more. “Maybe.” Marty spins around, shimmying his shoulder. “You don’t agree that Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Going on?” Marty then realizes something and laughs. “You know, I dated a Stacy once. Weirdly enough, her mom wasn’t that bad looking—“

Orion sighs and quickly moves to the bar. “I need a drink.”

Whatever hope Orion had of finding new talent is gone in the face of the line-up. It quickly becomes obvious that the performers are composed of people who aren’t taking the ‘gig’ seriously or patrons that are half-drunk and stumbling on the small stage.

Worse that the place is pathetically empty; it’s only them two and three other stragglers eating stale fries and bobbing their heads to the music, more out of obligatory politeness than anything else. Orion is suddenly regretting taking Marty up on his offer. 

Orion drinks his lager through periodic gulps, his desire to forget this night growing with every person that performs. The memories of this area coupled with his lack of work lately make him dizzy. He wants to escape. Quit. Scream. All of it.

“Get me another,” Orion says, much to Marty’s delight.

More and more people perform until Orion has lost any focus on the stage. Instead, he entertains himself by watching the game on the TV, having long given up on finding any new promising talent in a place like this. 

“Next up we have”—the bartender stops, her eyes narrowing as she tries to read something off an index card—“er, [band]. Yeah. Give them a round of applause.”

With how few people are in attendance, the applause is less applause and more awkward clapping that quickly dies after two. 

The people on stage are younger. Immediately, Orion notices that they’re equipped with actual instruments instead of relying on the karaoke machine in the corner. A decisive point in their favor, he decides.

“You said this was a gig…” He hears one of them say to what appears to be the lead singer. The boy wears a red hat, as well as an assortment of chains on his neck. Three other band members set up their instruments, trying not to look too disappointed by the turnout. Still, even with the lager creating a slight fog in his head, Orion knows that look. The moment when hope dies, burning like a napkin to a flame.

“No,” the lead singer says pointedly as they adjust their mic, “I said this was a favor.” In that moment, the singer nods their head at the bartender, who shoots them an appreciative thumbs-up. “A paid favor.”

The boy shakes his head but snorts. “I guess.” 

Once they’re set up, the singer looks ahead, gazing at the bar. Their eyes briefly settle on Orion as they gaze at the few faces in the room. “Hey!” they say, chirpy. “We’re [band]. Thanks for coming out!”

A chorus of muttering replies.

Marty taps on the bar. “Wanna head out?”

Orion, unable to look away, shakes his head. “No. I want to see this.”

The next few minutes feel like a dream. Orion is in a daze as the song plays, the beats piercing through him. The voice sends goosebumps up his arms, the instruments weave together in a perfect harmony that has Orion’s heart racing. When the song ends, it’s too soon. He wants it to keep going. He doesn’t want it to end. 

He wants more.

“Thanks!” The singer says to a smattering of slightly enthusiastic applause. This is the most energy everyone has had all night. They turn, grab their things, and disappear through the curtain. Orion bursts up….

…spilling his drink on the table.

“Oh!” the bartender squeaks as Marty hisses.

“Aw, fuck.” Orion curses, and then flinches. “Sorry. Uh….sorry.” He doesn’t know what his apology is for. Dropping the drink, cussing, or speeding away before he could help clean it up in order to catch the band backstage?

“Hey!” Marty calls. “Where are you going?”

Orion ignores him. He has a one-track mind right now, one focused on finding the band that just made him feel like he hit the jackpot. This. This is what he’s been looking for. 

The door swings open, and the band stop mid-conversation to look at Orion, who busted through the door without so much as a plan or script in place. Instead, he simply stands there. 

“Uh.” One girl, flaunting bright blue hair, says. “Yeah?”

Orion reveals his card, feeling a bit like a robot. He moves on automatic, working through the many thoughts in his head to utter the rest of his words. “Do you have a manager?”

. . . 

“You want to manage us?”

The din of the coffee shop sings with the sound of plates and aimless chatter. It’s been two days since he heard them perform back at the bar, and Orion has been running through his pitch the way one does before an interview. He’s never been this…nervous? Uncertain? In his life. 

“Yes,” is Orion’s only response. He sits on one side of the table while the band sits on the other; an invisible wall between them. He can see it, their apprehension. He is not one of them. 

Not yet, at least. 

“Wait.” The boy Orion learned is named Rowan leans forward, fingers on the table. “How do we know this isn’t a scam?”

“I’m not asking for money. All I ask is for you to show up to play for my boss. That’s it.” Auditions are a lost art. Nowadays artists are recruited through viral internet songs and connections. Two things that always exhausted Orion. It hasn’t been just about the music in a long time. 

Their eyes widen. They all exchange looks, equal parts excited and wary. 

“Why?” [MC], who he learned is the sole singer of the band, asks.

Because you made me feel something. Because listening to you is the first time I felt human in a long time.

He imagines himself waving off those words like mist. “Because you’re the first band that has caught my attention. And it’s not easy to catch my attention.”

The band member named Iris snorts. 

“I’m not trying to be arrogant,” he says blandly, leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest. “It’s the truth.”

“Where do you work?” Another member, Devyn, asks. 

“Carolina Records.”

Multiple pairs of eyes widen.

“Holy shit.” Jazzy laughs. “The Carolina Records?”

Orion nods, used to this kind of reaction. Starry-eyed artists are pretty much the same when it comes to Carolina. “Yes.” He leans forward, his heart racing. “Just one audition. That’s all I ask.” 

He watches as they all exchange looks; a silent language only they share. After an agonizing moment, [MC] turns to him and nods. “When?”

. . . . 

Orion has been pacing for the last half hour.

He stands outside Carolina’s humble theater space, chewing on his nails as he waits for his boss, Jacob Hill, and a smattering of other executives and shareholders that will be the final word in whether Orion can work with [band]. He hasn’t asked for something this big in so long that Jacob Hill immediately said yes, more out of excitement and surprise than anything else. Orion did produce two of their most profitable artists in the company. 

The elevator doors open and Orion stops in place, head whipping up to see them walking through the hall in a wave of black suits and greased hair. Orion brushes down his shirt, trying to dampen his nerves. Jesus. Nerves? Get a grip, Orion. 

He doesn’t know how to stand as he waits for them to approach. Hands in pockets? Arms crossed? Orion is so indecisive he just resorts to standing straight, arms at his sides. 

“Mr. Hill.” Orion shakes his hand, clearing his throat. He makes his polite greetings to the rest of the team and says, “Thank you for making time for me.”

“Always, Orion.” Jacob slaps a large hand on his back. “You’re one of my best. You should ask me for favors more.”

Orion lets out a small, slightly nervous laugh. “Ah, you know. I like to—“

“—do things on your own,” Jacob finishes, a soft smile on his face. “I get it.”

He slowly looks up, meeting Jacob’s eyes. In them he can see the familiar pity he’s gotten since the divorce. 

It’s Orion’s fault, really. If he didn’t isolate himself and turn into what he is now, people wouldn’t look at him and assume he’s broken inside.

Would they be wrong in their assumption, though? Am I broken inside?

“Shall we?” another executive says, and Orion bobs his head in a nod, pushing away the image of Jacob’s face.

Inside is a small theater, the stage just big enough for one artist. The seats are plush leather, the lights dim but blue. Jacob always likes the spectacle, and he catered this space to feel like a real performance for possible signees. Orion decides against sitting, too nervous to do anything but stand in the back, giving them the signal he taught them in his pep talk before they came.

[MC] nods. “Um. Hi. We’re [band]. I’m [MC] and this is Iris, Rowan, Devyn, and Jazzy. And um…this is [song].”

Orion flinches at the lackluster introduction. Doesn’t matter, he thinks, unfamiliarly optimistic, the music will do the talking.

And it does.

But not in the way he thought.

All throughout the song, Orion peeks at Jacob and his team. He wants to celebrate when he sees them bobbing their heads, wants to curse when they get on their phones. Orion has never worried this much in his whole career. He’s never wanted something so bad. 

He’s never allowed himself to want. Not after the divorce. 

He didn’t think he was deserving of getting what he wanted. 

The song ends, and Orion lets out a breath. There’s muffled chatter between the men, and on stage the band crowd together, hopping in place as they let out their remaining nerves. 

Jacob stands, the rest following. Orion speeds ahead, wanting to see the thoughts on his face. Instead, Jacob simply regards him with thin lips.

“They were…good,” Jacob whispers, putting a hand on Orion’s shoulder and guiding him out of the room and to the empty hall, “but I think we’re going to go in another direction.”

Orion’s positivity leaks out of him like an open faucet. “What.”

Jacob inhales through his nose. “Look, the singer is talented. They all are. I understand why you like them but…” He shakes his head. “I don’t think the guys see it. And plus,” he shrugs, “they don’t have what we’re looking for.”

Orion’s brows furrow. His stomach drops in itself and his mouth dries. “They have another song. They could play it—“

“Orion.” Jacob gives him that pitying expression again. Fucking hell. He wants to smack that expression off his face. “I know you’ve been…off, since the divorce. You haven’t been on top of your game, and I’ve been giving you your space. It’s not easy, especially since you worked together—“

“I’m fine,” he says tightly.

“—but you can’t…fixate on something to get over it. You need to do it the healthy way. The old Orion would’ve brought me someone with pizzazz. With that unique Orion touch, you know?” Jacob pulls him close. Orion is reduced to a scolded child, unable to do anything but listen. “This isn’t the Orion I know. You usually bring me diamonds.” 

“I—“ Orion swallows. “I’m trying.” And it’s the most honest thing he’s said in ages. He’s trying. And it’s not working. He’s been trying the day he signed that fucking divorce paper and signed the only life he’s known away. 

“I know you are,” Jacob says, squeezing his shoulder. “Sometimes we miss, and that’s alright.”

The rest of the group filter out and both Jacob and Orion step back, trying to hide any sign of their tense conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Orion nods slowly, the lump in his throat growing as he feels multiple eyes on him. His jaw is clenched, his eyes are downturned. He can hardly look at his boss.

He stands there, frozen, forced to listen to their careless chatter as they walk down the hall. The moment they stepped out of those doors, they forgot about the band. The same band that made him feel something, the first time since his divorce. The same band he can’t get out of his head. The same band that proved he is not broken. He can still feel.

And they don’t even fucking care.

“I quit,” Orion says, the words coming out of him before he could even think. Jacob and Co turn around, twin expressions of shock on their faces. Orion looks up, straightening, trying to look even an inch of the Old Him.

“What?” Jacob blurts. 

“I quit.” Orion swallows. “I’ll formally hand in my resignation tomorrow.” He bows, trying to muster up the little respect and professionalism he has in him. “I’m sorry.”

“Orion—“

He spins around, walking back inside. 

The band is still on stage, this time all packed up and ready to go. When the door closes, they all look up, their hopeful and wide eyes on Orion as he walks down to the stage.

He stops in front of it. He puts two palms on the stage, looking at the members of the band he will take to the top. He promised it to himself…two minutes ago.

“I’m going to ask again,” Orion says through his teeth, his heart racing with the adrenaline of his quitting. What the fuck is he doing? And why does it feel so good? “Do you still need a manager?”

When he looks up, the band stares at him in silence.  

He witnesses [MC] look behind him at the door, where Jacob and his team left. As if realizing something, they look back down. “Yeah. You okay with another artist in your roster?”

“Yes.” Orion nods. He’s okay with it. 

Because all he needs is one. 

#orion quinn #drabble #looks around #scratches head #infamous

[bloodynereid]

Tinsel, Gold and Dragons

(modern au!)

pairings: rhaenyra targaryen x fem! reader, past rhaenyra x alicent

tw: kissing, alicent bashing, alcohol consumption, talk about hooking up, hatred of the holiday season??

description: You were wondering how the hell this family had so many attractive people. Rhaenyra’s brain was currently not computing, she was pretty sure this was called bisexual panic but it had never really happened to her in real life before.

a/n: hiii hope you enjoy this little fic i randomly wrote last night. i've been kind of missing just writing stuff that isn't requests so hopefully this is still ok haha. ALSO i'm 100% an alicent defender, she's the loml so just remember that a lot of this is from rhaenyra's pov and not my own thoughts about her character. anyways hope you enjoy this and happy holidays <3 (might write a part 2 at some point but who knows?)

Rhaenyra Targaryen never liked the holiday season. After her mother died things just got worse and the boring parties she was always subjected to only got more boring. The welcome reprieve of baking gingerbread in the kitchen with her mom was gone in seconds and now holidays just reminded her of everything she had lost.

This year’s party was going to be the worst one by a long shot. Rhaenyra had to deal with Alicent fucking Hightower - oh sorry Targaryen now… that was something she still hadn’t accepted. I mean how do you even cope when your best friend suddenly starts fucking your dad in secret, gets pregnant, marries him and then proceeds to act like she’s Virgin fucking Mary?

The answer is with a lot of scotch, stupid hookups and long hours studying. She was desperate to get her law degree so she could finally do something and it also meant she could start working at her uncle’s law firm.

Currently though she was stuck in her father’s house whilst her new toddler half-brother threw temper tantrums and broke anything in his vicinity.

It was Christmas Eve and Viserys had nearly decided to cancel the annual Christmas party, in favor of “family bonding” but Alicent had somehow convinced him to keep it on. Rhaenyra did not want to think about what she had done to convince him. She nearly gagged at the mere idea of it.

Smoothing out the material of the dark red dress with a slightly higher slit than what would be considered appropriate, Rhaenyra let out an audible sound of satisfaction. She looked fucking hot. Plus Alicent would freak when she saw it, perfect.

Once upon a time Alicent Hightower had been her best friend, and probably something more but now… all that Rhaenyra could muster up for her is a cold chill of utter hate and rage.

Rhaenyra was thrown out of her thoughts when her phone called out the familiar ringtone that belonged to her uncle.

“Daemon… you do know that people can text now don’t you?”

“Haha, you can call me old all you want but you might regret it when I don’t tell you how I’m about to save you tonight.”

“Please tell me you found a way to make them all die fiery deaths.”

“Nothing as dramatic as that but I assure you it’s still the perfect escape.”

“Are you going to leave me in suspense while I endure this torture or…”

“Fine, you spoiled princess. We’re having a little party at the firm and since you’re coming to work here soon…”

“You didn’t.”

“But I did.”

“Fuck off. You mean I can actually leave this party.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

“You’re my savior.”

“Knight in shining armor and all that. Just remember to get me a good present this year.”

“When do I ever disappoint you?”

“There is also another surprise waiting for you when you get here.”

“Daemon… what have you done?”

“Nothing. There’s just someone I think you should meet.”

“Oh God, maybe I won’t go.”

“You know you’re too desperate not to, plus she’s your age so you won’t have to deal with boring old men like me.”

“She’s a she?” 

Rhaenyra perked up, she hadn’t had a date in a while and ever since Alicent she hadn’t even tried to step her foot back into that pool. A string of meaningless hookups with men had done nothing to quell the heartbreak side of the whole situation. This would probably be good for her. 

“Yes. So I guess that means you’re coming?”

“Obviously.”

“Should I send a car over?”

“Don’t bother, I’ll just drive Syrax.” Syrax was a birthday present from Daemon, a beautiful and subtly gold car that drove like a dream.

“Ok, see you soon Nyra.”

“Bye, Uncle.”

Rhaenyra sped through the streets of King’s Landing in the comfortable leather seat of her car. The bright Christmas lights that adorned the shops made a bright smile appear on her face. She may hate the holidays but at least the lights and food were incredible.

She arrived at the tall building that held Caraxes, Daemon’s law firm and named after his first dog but no one needed to know that. She gave her name to the security guard before parking the car in one of the empty spaces.

Her red dress fluttered in the cold breeze as she waited for the elevator to open. The firm was located on the 60th floor, the penthouse. Rhaenyra always loved being up high so the height was never a problem. What was annoying was how long it took her to actually get up there.

When the elevator doors finally opened at the correct floor, loud Christmas music echoed through the floor and she could clearly hear cheers coming from the area close to Daemon’s office.

Since the secretary was nowhere to be seen, Rhaenyra walked the now familiar route towards her uncle’s office. Weaving through a variety of cubicles she found a large Christmas tree and a small bar had been set up outside her uncle’s office.

“NYRA!” A loud voice that corresponded to her uncle slurred out and his tall frame ambled towards her. Within moments she was suddenly caught in a warm embrace and she returned the hug with her smaller arms wrapping around his torso.

“When did you have time to get this drunk, uncle?” Rhaenyra asked when they finally parted.

“Oh you think this is drunk, darling. Don’t you remember me at that New Year’s-”

“Andddd I’m going to stop you right there. I still get trauma flashbacks.”

“I must say, you look absolutely stunning Nyra. I’m sure our dear Alicent flipped when she saw you.”

“You should have seen her face when I told her I was going to unfortunately not attend her party.” Rhaenyra and Daemon shared a laugh before Daemon spotted someone in the crowd and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Y/N! I have someone you should meet.” 

Rhaenyra followed Daemon’s line of sight and found the most beautiful woman she had probably ever seen. You were wearing a dark blue floor length dress which was held up with spaghetti straps. A pashmina scarf looped around your elbows and you had a smile on your face as you approached the two of them.

“You summoned me?” You asked when you finished weaving through the sea of people.

“Well yes, I wanted you to meet my niece. Rhaenyra this is Y/N, our newest and most promising associate.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” You said as you offered a hand to the stunning silver haired woman. You were wondering how the hell this family had so many attractive people. Rhaenyra’s brain was currently not computing, she was pretty sure this was called bisexual panic but it had never really happened to her in real life before.

“I-uh, nice to meet you too.” Rhaenyra stuttered out as she took Y/N’s hand and shook it.

“Well I’ll leave you two to it.” Daemon said with a conspiring tone in his voice before he disappeared into the crowd.

“So… Daemon’s been singing your merits all over the office for a while now so I think I have an unfair advantage here.”

“Oh God, what has he been saying?” Rhaenyra groaned out as she dramatically swept a hand over her hair.

“Nothing bad, I promise. You’re getting your law degree at The Citadel, right?”

“Yup.”

“How’s that? I was debating going there for a while but ended up going to Oxford instead.”

“It's hell but worth it, I hope.”

“I totally get that, Oxford was like medieval torture but I’m happy it landed me in this place.” You said as you swept a hand in the direction of the office space.

“Wait, how old are you?” Rhaenyra suddenly asked before her face contorted in embarrassment. “Shit, that was rude, sorry.”

“Ha don’t worry, I get that all the time. I’m 25.”

“24.” Rhaenyra offered back in solidarity.

“We’re basically the same age then.” You said with a wink before you took a sip of the amber liquid in the glass tumbler.

“Probably why Daemon shoved us in this little corner together.”

“I’m for one glad to be stuck in this little corner with you.” You said as you smirked in Rhaenyra’s direction. A light blush started to dust Rhaenyra’s cheeks.

“I’m glad too, but I’m desperate for a drink. This week has been hell.”

“You don’t like the holidays either?”

“Hate them.”

“We have something else in common after all.”

You spent the rest of the party sitting next to Rhaenyra in Daemon’s office. You drank sparingly, not wanting to be drunk since Rhaenyra needed to drive back and you didn’t want to act like a fool in front of her.

Rhaenyra felt like this was the first time in years that she felt truly happy. It was nice just to talk and gossip and be free to actually be herself. With Alicent it felt like she was walking on eggshells before the incident and now it was near impossible to be in the same room alone with her. But with Y/N…

At first, Rhaenyra went into this wanting just to have a quick hookup but those hours spent talking or maybe it was the alcohol that got to her head but she decided she deserved something better. She deserved someone better.

“Do you need a ride home?” Rhaenyra asked when people started to mill out of the party. Y/N turned to her in surprise before a gentle smile lit up her face.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble?”

“Not at all, but don’t think this is some kind of selfless act - maybe I just want to spend more time with you.”

“Well, we just have to indulge in your selfish desires don’t we?” You said with a twinkle in your eyes and a laugh on your tongue.

“You have no idea the scope of my selfish desires.”

“I would like to find out…”

Rhaenyra basically dragged you down to her car after that little remark. As she drove through the streets of King’s Landing, you took a leap of blind faith (or maybe love) by gripping the hand that lay between the two of you. Rhaenyra instantly threaded her fingers through yours and you spied a small smile making its way to her face.

Once she pulled up in front of your apartment building Rhaenyra bit her lip and turned to look at you - still completely in awe of how pretty you are.

“We arrived.”

“That we did.”

“Well…”

“Well… do you uh-”

“Do I what?” Rhaenyra said as she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Rhae… I- do you want to come up?”

“Only if we can have a date tomorrow.”

“It’s Christmas Day.”

“I’ll think of something.”

“Hmm… deal.” You said as a giddy smile graced your lips. Suddenly the feeling of soft lips meeting against yours startled you out of your reverie and you jumped to thread your fingers through her silky hair.

“You are so beautiful.” Rhaenyra mumbled against your lips before slipping her tongue to delicately stroke yours. It seemed impossible that your smile could widen even more but it did.

“Mmm, says you. You fucking goddess.” You said when you both finally pulled away. Panting and grinning like idiots.

“This is certainly turning out to be a very merry Christmas.”

“Ho ho ho.”

rhaenyra is an bisexual icon just like her uncle and we love her for it !!

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra is a bisexual icon. #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x fem!reader #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #game of thrones #hotd x reader #hotd modern au #modern au #house of the dragon x reader #got #syrax #caraxes #viserys targaryen

[jobean12-blog]

Along for the Ride

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker AU)

Word Count: 1,855

Summary: You convince Joel to go to the state fair wtih you..he’s grumpy about it but he’ll do anything that makes you happy.  

Author’s Note: This is for @the-slumberparty June Monthly Challenge-Summer vibes! My item is a popsicle and my setting is a festival/fair. Thank you so much to Navy and Roo for hosting! I have one planned in the same setting for Cowboy!Joel because one my friends are the best kind of support and two it was really too hard to pick between them haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️All dividers used are by my lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics

Warnings: lots of fun, fluff and flirting, soft and sweet moments, Joel is grumpy but he’s always perfect for you. 

EDIT NOT MINE: Thank you so much to @pedritosdarling for making this amazing edit with my Biker!Joel in mind, it means so much! I LOVE IT! 😍

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Is it ok if we take my bike darlin’?”

“Of course,” you answer with a quick kiss. “You know I love riding with you…but showing up in your pickup truck would be more on par for the fair,” you giggle.

“Yeah, yeah. I still can’t believe you convinced me to go to this,” he grumbles.

“It didn’t take much,” you tease, batting your lashes.

“Well you had me in a compromising position when you asked. I wasn’t exactly thinking with my brain.  I’m pretty sure I would have agreed to anything princess.”  

He’s trying to suppress a smile but the more you hold his gaze the more his lips twitch upward.

“We’re going to have a great time,” you state as you pack your bag. “Besides, you never tell me no…no matter what position you’re in.”

You wiggle your shoulders haughtily before asking, “and what’s with calling me princess?”

He slides up behind you, pressing into your body so he has you caged along the counter, his arms on either side of you.

His lips brush the shell of your ear. “Mm you’re right, I never tell you no. Made me think of a princess…”

“And you’re my knight in shining armor,” you giggle, willing your body not to react to him.

Warm and soft lips trail down your neck before meeting your shoulder, his fingers pushing the strap of your dress down so he can continue his path of kisses.

“Thought I was your teddy bear…” he murmurs.

His beard tickles your skin, sending goosebumps running down your arm.

“Joel,” you breathe out, trembling in his hold. “Don’t you dare try to distract me. We are going to the fair.”

Your words come out breathy and much less assertive than you wanted and you feel him smile against your skin.

“Whatever you say princess.”

His other hand smooths down the curve of your waist and he turns you around to face him. His kisses continue to move down your neck, across your collarbone, and he traces the thin edge of the top of your dress, the barest of touches but it leaves a burning heat in its wake.

“Joel.”

It’s a warning but comes out more like a whine.

He takes your chin between his thick fingers and brings your eyes to his, kissing you softly before smiling.

“Ok darlin’. Come on. I’m gonna take you to the fair…”

His warm hand closes around yours and he starts to walk you to the door.

“I feel like there was a but at the end of that sentence,” you say, squeezing his fingers.

“Let’s just hope I can behave while we’re there.”

With a cheeky wink he escorts you out the door, handing you your helmet before throwing a long leg over his bike.

You practically skip toward the entrance, one of Joel’s hands in yours and his other stuffed into the front pocket of his jeans as you drag him nearer.

“Come on you!”

He takes too long strides and catches up, releasing your hand only to wrap it around your waist and tuck you into his side.

“What are we doin’ first?” he asks with a kiss to the top of your head.

As you approach the fairgrounds, the air is filled with anticipation and a buzz of excitement. Everything is colorful and vibrant from the bright lights and colorful banners to the lively music playing in the background.

You glance at Joel and notice as he takes it all in that he’s rubbing the back of his neck and looking sort of misplaced.

When he catches you staring he huffs lightly. “I stick out like a sore thumb.”

You do nothing to hide the way you blatantly check him out then grab the front of his tight tee shirt and drag his lips down to yours.

“Who cares,” you whisper when you pull away.

Your fingers sneak under the tight sleeves of his tee before sliding down over his biceps. He flexes and you hum appreciatively, pressing closer.

“Now who’s lookin’ to cause a distraction princess,” he growls.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip and you give him a demure smile.

As you move further onto the grounds, you’re immediately greeted by a plethora of sights and smells. Food stands line the pathways, enticing you with the delightful aroma of freshly cooked and fried treats.

“Somethin’ smells good,” he says, eyeing the ice cream and cotton candy stand.

“Let’s get something!” you cheer as you rush over.

After ordering two popsicles you head over to a picnic table in the shade.

“Do you want some?” you ask as the pop hovers near your mouth.

He keeps his eyes trained on you and waits, watching intensely as you press it to your lips, parting them then sucking it into your mouth.

“Mmmm so good.”

He sits on the bench of the table, his legs spread wide as you settle between them, still working the popsicle in and out of your mouth.

“Princess,” he warns, his eyes dark. “You better stop sucking on that pop like you wish it was my…”

“Joel Miller don’t you dare finish that sentence!” you admonish but make no move to stop the way you’re clearly deep throating your popsicle. “We are at the fair and there are children present.”

Without another word he grabs you around the waist and pulls you down onto his lap, his free hand landing on your bare thigh.

“I’m pretty sure no one would be surprised if I said what I wanted to say darlin’.”

“Yeah, yeah. Big tough guy…tattoos…leather…”

You press your cold lips to his scruffy cheek and then move to take another lick of your popsicle but he grabs your face and turns it so he can give you a proper kiss, parting your lips to taste the flavor on your tongue.

“You done working that popsicle yet?” he asks, brushing his lips lightly along yours.

You push it back into your mouth then pop it out again. “Nope!”

He shifts you on his lap so you can feel how your popsicle eating antics are affecting him.

With a squeak you wiggle your butt and he quickly tightens his hold on your waist to stop you.

“And I thought I was the one who was going to be the problem today,” he simpers.

You shrug like it’s nothing, still sucking on your popsicle.

“Ok, I’m done,” you say, when there’s nothing left but the wooden stick. “Let’s go find a game where you can win me a stuffed animal.”

You hop off his lap and tug on his hand.

“Just gimme a minute princess.”

You giggle and go to sit back down but he blocks you.

“Darlin’,” he grumbles. “That won’t help any.”

When you discover the games you’re eager to find one in particular and you pull Joel along, pointing out all the cute stuffed animals he can win for you.

“There it is!” you shout.

You rush over to the balloon dart game and try to keep your excitement at bay.

“You’re going to be so good at this,” you tell him. “You always beat the guys at darts at the bar!”

The guy working the booth gives Joel the once over before taking his money. You roll your eyes and press yourself into Joel’s side, giving the guy a mocking smile.

Joel lines up his shot and pulls his arm back to let the dart fly. It lands just above a red balloon. You don’t say anything and just wait as he takes the other two shots.

He misses them both.

“Fucking weighted darts,” he grumbles. “They make it so you can’t win this shit.”

His body is tense and his jaw is set in a hard line.

You hang on to his bicep and whisper in his ear, “one more time…for me? Please?”

He looks at you and his expression softens. “Just for you princess.”

He pays for another round of darts and readies himself again. The first two miss but on his last shot he hits a blue balloon and it explodes in a spray of water.

“Fuck yeah!” he cheers and you join in with a whoop of happiness.

“Which one do you want princess?” he asks as he pulls you in front of him and wraps you in his arms.

“THE BIG PINK UNICORN!” you say excitedly.

The guy at the booth pulls it down and hands it to you.

“What are you gonna name him,” Joel asks.

“Joel.”

He raises a bushy eyebrow. “Really princess.”

“Yep,” you reply, popping the p. “Really, really.”

“He can be best friends with the teddy bear you got me,” you explain as you run your fingers over your new unicorn.

Having Joel’s bike was the best idea, especially once it came time to catch the evening sunset before fireworks and the two of you are able to meander through the traffic and find a secluded spot on the grass.

You sit comfortably in his embrace, watching the sky transform into a canvas of vibrant colors, the hues of orange, pink and purple beginning to spread across the horizon.

“This is so beautiful,” you say in awe.

He grunts in response.

After a few moments you turn in his arms and snort.

“That’s all you got? Ungh.”

You mimic the noise he made.

He stares at you. “You’re so much more beautiful.”

You stare back and suddenly your eyes go wide and light up in realization.

“OH MY GOD, you’re still grumpy about losing the darts game!”

He looks offended. “I am not darlin’! And besides, I didn’t lose…I won you the unicorn didn’t I?”

You poke his hard chest. “You are so!” you tease. “And I mean it took you two tries…”

“Whatever you say princess,” he mutters, but you can see the corners of his lips turn up slightly.

“And his name is JOEL,” you add, unable to stop your laughter that bubbles up.

He kisses the smile right off your lips but you feel his own before he presses the palm of his hand to your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin, his eyes soft as he studies your face.

You reach up and lightly drag your fingers across his jaw then run your nose along the same path, your eyes closing as your lips meet in a soft kiss.

The sun descends, its rays illuminating the fairgrounds, casting long shadows and creating a beautiful interplay of light and dark. The rides, food stalls and exhibits start to twinkle, creating a background of sparkling rainbow lights against the deepening sky.

His hands move lower, curling around your waist and sliding you under him until you’re laying back on the blanket beneath him.

As his lips kiss a path down your neck his hand slides up along your inner thigh and he gently pushes your legs part.

“Joel, the fireworks are about to start,” you weakly protest, letting your legs fall open.

“Nothin’ you haven’t seen before,” he murmurs, his hand gliding higher. “And besides, think I’ve behaved for long enough princess.”

@sstan-hoe @justkinsey @blackwidownat2814 @beccablogsthings @laineyreads @lorilane33​ @littleseasiren​

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #biker!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #biker!joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #biker au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #navy and roo's sleepover

[gatorbites-imagines]

Boba Fett w gun play? I feel like he’d definitely appreciate a reader who knows his way around a blaster haha.

Boba Fett x male reader

headcanons

I can imagine Boba likes a partner who knows their way around any weapon. This is bounty hunter Boba, before he ends up in the sarlacc. I just think Boba being so turned on by his partner being dangerous is so Mandalorian.

You were a fellow bounty hunter, your specialty was force users and the highly skilled. This didn’t mean you just hunted Jedi, but all force users, and by God were you good at it.

You and Boba met when put on the same bounty, some extremely skilled warlord that ruled an entire cluster of planets. Working together you guys were able to take him down, and Boba got the first glance of how skilled you were with a blaster.

After that you two became allies, then friends, and then lovers. It was a slow process, as bounty hunters don’t trust easy, especially other bounty hunters. But Boba was younger at the time, and cockier than he is in the future, so he doesn’t give up.

Even before you guys started dating, seeing you fight always left him feeling heated and hot blooded, his codpiece fitting uncomfortably with how hard it made him to see you flip your blaster in and out of its holster and switch to a different weapon.

He knew he was head over heels when you pointed a blaster in one of the gaps in his armor, digging it into his flightsuit and leaving a mark, threatening to kill him right then and there. And instead of fear, he felt like he was gonna burst inside his flightsuit.

It was better than any adult entertainment for Boba to see you cleaning your blasters. To see you take them apart piece by piece, clean them up, and click it back together again, always had him panting to himself.

It takes a bit for you to realize just what kind of effect you have on Boba. Because of his cockier attitude and just being younger than he is in the Mandalorian series, hes got a higher drive and is more grabby.

It’s not unusual for Boba to come up behind you and squeeze your hips and ass, or for him to say all kinds of dirty things over comms during bounties. But he is especially twitchy and antsy when you show off.

It hits you just how much he likes it when he walks into your shared room to see you sitting there in nothing but your boxers, trying to fix a jam in one of your blasters, and he turns right on his heel to march into the fresher to get off.

Even when he comes back out of the fresher without his armor, he still stares a little too intensely when you finally fix the blaster. If he hadn’t just gotten off, Boba would probably have popped a stiffy again.

From then on you start to show off on purpose, using a blaster when you don’t actually need too, or maybe handling your weapons a little more lewdly.

Like, theres no reason for you to lick one of your knives, or use spit to clean up a spot on your blaster, but you do it anyways, just to see Boba start shuffling around, trying to be subtle about how hard it makes him.

Boba would realize you had him figured out pretty damn fast, because you make a habit out of staring him in the eyes when you are cleaning up the barrel of your blasters with a rag, making sure it gets real clean and shiny.

Neither of you really say anything, and maybe that’s a problem that comes with you both being younger adrenaline hungry bounty hunters, as you guys don’t discuss kink a whole lot either.

One day when you guys are getting steamy, nothing too extreme, just Boba pressed up against the wall, his codpiece off, and flight suit opened, one of your hands twisting and jerking his length, you put your blaster into the mix.

With your other hand, you press the cold barrel of the blaster against his cock, making Boba’s eyes shoot open and immediately look down, his noises growing louder and hungrier, his hips twitching, and pupils blown huge.

He ends up cumming all over your blaster, which you just tsk about and complain about, but you both know its just all for show.

Sometimes to make Boba more desperate, you don’t even have to use the blaster in any way. It just being visible on your belt as him awake and aware, you pretty much pavlov him to get a stiffy when you walk around in little clothes and your blaster on you.

One of Boba’s favorite things you do, is when you make him hold your blaster in his mouth. The safety is always on of course, and its never actually turned on, but it always has his eyes rolling and his cock dripping.

You probably end up with a blaster just for this, since you can’t let Boba slobber all over your actually good blasters, since it could ruin the technology. It is pretty hot to see him flatting his tongue around the barrel like he’s sucking you off though, so sometimes you’ll use your favorite blaster on him.

When he’s older, after the sarlacc, he still has a thing for blasters, and just weapons in general. If you end up allowed to use a garderffii stick by the Tuskens, it gets him as hot and bothered as your blasters used to do in your younger years.

#male reader #boba fett #star wars #the mandalorian #mandalorian #boba fett imagine #boba fett headcanon #boba fett x male reader #boba fett x reader #star wars imagine #star wars headcanon #star wars x male reader #star wars x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x male reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian headcanon #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian headcanon #mandalorian x male reader #mandalorian x reader

[the-writing-writer]

I recently read your Karma x Sister oneshot and got to say it was amusing. So I would like to request a more oneshot like it. Reader is friends with Asano and Asano got kind of feelings for Reader but Karma absolutely despairs anyone dating his precious sister especially Asano out of everyone.

Like so it's not really got to be romantic or that was drama but I would like to see interaction between Asano and Karma regarding Reader. It sounds so chaotic and I would love to read that haha!

Also it's okay if you don't want to read, it's fine. Even reading this request was enough<3 Thanks for reading and have a nice day ahead! :D

Thank you so much for the request and the kind words<3

Big Brother…

Pairing: Yandere!Karma x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Yan themes, cursing, violence

During your time in A-Class, you had grown comfortable with Asano, and even became friends with him. He was the perfect gentleman when it came to you. And had even taken to calling you petnames, not putting any meaning behind it.

Or so he thought.

It wasn’t long before Asano realized how much he went out of his way for you and how close he was to you compared to other people in school and even in his life.

And Karma didn’t like that.

Not when another man was trying to get close to his baby sister. His precious girl. His. His his his his his.

And if anyone tries to get between him and his little sister, there’d be hell to pay.

He’s your big brother. Your knight in shining armor. The first guy you’re ever supposed to trust. The only one you’re supposed to trust.

Him. Only him.

Asano can’t have you. Not now. Not ever. He’s a manipulative narcissist who cares only about himself.

What do you mean Karma’s the same way?! No he’s not! He’s your big brother, why on earth would he manipulate you!?

Except he does. You’re such a young, innocent, naive little sister. He has to protect you! Even if that means using unconventional methods to do so.

You don’t need any other man in your life. You shouldn’t even want another man in your life. He’s more than enough.

And big brother will make sure you and Asano know that.

“Whatever you’re thinking about my sister, stop thinking it. She doesn’t need a selfish, manipulative bastard like you in her life.”

Karma had managed to find Asano after an assembly, making sure you had gone with Karasuma before he approached his rival.

“You think I’m going to stay away from her just because you say so? I’m not one of those cowards you can push around in the lower classes. And you’re going to talk about how she doesn’t need a manipulative bastard in her life? Then you stay away from her, Akabane.”

Asano’s words had struck a nerve. And in an instant, Karma’s fist was clenched and moving towards the others face.

“Big brother! What’re you doing!?”

Your voice had brought him back to reality, quickly lowering his fist and turning to face you with a smile. “My little Angel! What’re you doing here! I thought you went ahead with Mr. Karasuma?”

“I did, but then I realized you weren’t with us! I got worried and came looking for you! What’re you doing to Asano!” Your face turned downward in nervousness, unclear of what was happening between the two boys.

“Nothing, Sweet Girl. We’re just having a little chat. Isn’t that right, Akabane?” Asano taunted, knowing that Karma wouldn’t do anything dirty in front of you.

Taking a few steps towards you, Karma grabbed your hand and began dragging you away from Asano, a hard glare on his face. “Right. You see, little sis? Nothings wrong. Now come on, let’s get you back to class.”

“Back with me where you belong.”

#relation.platonic #🎂.assassinationclassroom #yandere assassination classroom #🍰.asano #🍰.karma #assassination classroom fanfic #assassination classroom x reader #platonic yandere

[yourwakingnightmares]

Okay, but real talk for a second... Journey’s End is not a happy ending.

Like... We can talk about Ed realizing he doesn’t need alchemy and all that jazz, but seriously?

Let’s take this step by step, because lawdy but I have been stewing about this since I finished the show two months ago.

Firstly... Everyone else gets their happy ending. Al gets his body back, gets the girl. Winry gets the guy, and gets to keep making at least one automail limb for said guy. Roy gets his eyesight back, and (presumably) becomes Fuhrer. Hohenheim gets to die and abandon his kids again so he can be with his dead wife. Ling gets a philosopher stone, and becomes emperor. May Chang gets her knight in shining armor, and the safety of her clan.

But Ed? He got his brother back... Still has an automail leg. Lost his alchemy. Most likely either had to amputate his arm, or lose a lot of functionality, because Truth is a goddamn asshole, and just shoved that arm back on over top of the STEEL PORT.

And he was a prodigy. Not that I give a shit about how Amestris feels about losing their prodigy, but... Personal story time, when I was a kid, I was a piano ‘prodigy’. One of those kids who could just sit down and play anything. If I heard it, I could play it. And then, through a rather depressing chain of events that are irrelevant to this post, all of the fingers, and many of the smaller bones on my left hand were shattered. Even after months of rehab, I still couldn’t play like I used to. I could barely play for more than five or ten minutes before my hand began to cramp up and stop moving.

And this thing... This thing that I did better than anyone else I knew... It was gone. Just gone. This one thing that made me stand out, that made me special, that made me feel good about myself... and it was just gone. I could still pick apart any music I heard, I still knew exactly how I would play it... If I could. But I couldn’t.

And for Ed... Alchemy was who he was. It was what he did. It was an integral part of both himself, and how he viewed the world. And it’s just... gone. Boop. No more alchemy. All gone now, thanks for playing, kid. You’re no longer unique, you’re no longer special, you now have nothing that sets you apart from everyone else. You dragged yourself to the top of that pillar, and enjoyed the view, until a squiggly outline asshole Sparta kicked you off it, and then ground your face in the mud for good measure.

But, Nightmares, you say! He got his brother back! He still had Al!

Ah, but he didn’t, dear reader! That’s the thing! No Al hate here, because I love Al as much... well, nearly as much as I do Ed, but like... Al got better -and we all know who helped him through the months of recovery -and then bounced right the hell off to Xing. “Haha, yes, Brother! I shall go a thousand miles this way, you go a thousand miles that way, and we shall research this thing that you used to be able to do, that you used to be a prodigy at, that you can no longer do! Don’t forget to write, dear brother!”

...

Okay. I’m slightly less angry now. But seriously, that ending was just... ugh, utterly heart-breaking. Watching Ed trying to transmute the roof, and then just sigh, and say, “Well, at least the view’s nice.” was just... painful as hell.

#FMA:B #FMA:B spoilers #I guess #It's been out for years now #so is it really spoilers #Edward Elric #Alphonse Elric #I'm a little bitter about that ending #in case you couldn't tell

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Genderbend Monster Musume: The Other Problem

First Part

Full well knowing that now that you had fallen into a  rhythm of normalcy, you knew that the next monster boy to come would be Papi, the harpy. In the anime the baby-faced harpy abducted the main guy, embarrassed him in the park, and ended up moving in. Seeing as the naga living in your house was aggressive and incredibly willing to threaten you about evicting him, you decided you did not need another monster boy in your house. Since then when it came to laundry or anything on the balcony you directed the half-reptilian to do it. 

“Ohhh Darling, would you like to see how handsome I look with my hair flowing in the wind?”

“No.”

“Darling did you know I’m going to stretch up high so you can see my abs?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

“Darling if you look up from your phone you can see me presenting-”

“Okay! That’s enough! I’m going out.” Without waiting for a response you leave the building without looking at whatever Millo was doing now. 

You figured going somewhere that required you to stay on the ground. The activity you chose was stuffing your face at a cat cafe. While there wasn’t any other activity than playing with the cats you figured you’d enjoy this knowing he’d have to smash through an entire building, hurt some cats, and get past all the employees who would die for these cats. Too bad his plot armor was not that weak.

BOOM!!!!!!!!

In moments you are snatched from the cat mountain forming upon you and being flown out of the glass of a broken window. You tried to maintain your indifference to the city grounds being so far away. 

“Uhm, excuse me?!”

“Yes, human.”

“Can you uhm put me down, SAFELY.” You’d watched enough movies to know the lack of specificity would be your doom so you made sure to emphasize your safety.  

“Haha, no.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no (Y/n).”

He knew your name? This was new. 

“Tuck your legs in a bit, if you don’t wanna break them.” He spoke after what had to be almost an hour. Your arms are sleeping and you are fighting sleep yourself. Nonetheless you followed his suggestion as you were unceremoniously plopped on a thick clutch of leaves and twigs. Gaining your bearings you briefly look at the insane height on the tree that you’ve been placed on. You back up into the middle of the nest, trying to calm your beating heart.

“Uhm..dude why did you bring me up here?” 

Now that you’ve gotten to look at him he still seemed to have the body of a young boy. Wearing innocently short-shorts, a loose tank top and a cap that held his blue hair in place. He tilted his head and lifted his shoulders.

“I don’t know.”

You deadpanned. One of the annoying traits of Papi’s character was her bird-brain status. What wasn’t like the anime was where you were dropped off. You were in a freaking forest!! How on Earth would you get down from here and how long would it take for Millo to come and intervene? 

“Uhm can you uhh take me down please?” 

You were aware of the shakiness of this tree he had you in but you didn’t want to tempt it anymore; so you sat still allowing the harpy to move around. 

“I-I don’t think I can!” 

“Why?”

He looked worried himself and you were hoping the reason was that he didn’t remember how to. 

“Because I have to take you to a nest. T-that was the plan!”

You realized this flustered behavior was because of you and for that you were grateful

“Well what if I told you where a better nest is?” He cutely popped his head up coming closer to you in his excitement. The nest was wobbly and you subtly grabbed at his bird feet.

“R-really w-will you show me?”

“S-sure just pick me up and I’ll show you!”

Happily the harpy-boy wrenched his talons out of your hands to latch on to your shoulders swooshing you both off at speeds that ended up with the nest falling to the forest floor. As you were being lifted off, once more, you noticed the rapidly growing vines that clutched at the empty air. 

Was that-? But we shouldn’t actually be meeting until-

“Ahh!” 

“Dovey you need to tell me where to go or would you rather we go back to the nest we had before!?”

“No no! Geez, take a left over here.”

______________________________________________________________

“OHH! Darling!!!! I THOUGHT YOU DIED!!! hOW COuLd yOU haVE lEFT mE!!!????”

Too tired to run you let the snake-monster wrap obsessively around you as soon as you stepped into the threshold. 

“AAAAA–Wahhh!” 

You ignored his wailing and just let yourself be shaken around you as you barely spotted a blue blur entering your house. Aggressive shaking turned into full-on squeezing. Once again unable to actually tell him to stop, you were left weakly gasping as Milo continued to squeeze you. 

“HEY! YOU LET MY (Y/N) GO!!!” 

In a spray of scales and a hint of blood, this genderbent Papi dug his talon’s claws into one of the coils of the occupied naga (lamia?). 

“AUUugh!” 

The pressure on your body relaxed and you took that moment to leave the room. You could feel a headache coming along with the clashing of these two. 

“Your (Y/n)?! Look little boy we’re not ready for kids yet so why don’t you just skedaddle!”

“Oh please we’re not ready for any pets ourselves.”

“WHY YOU LITTLE IMP!!!”

The crashes of what must be your ‘currently being destroyed’ collection of plates. Despite all that you put on your noise cancelling  headphones and snoozed away dreaming that when Smith did show up he’d have an ounce of sense and evict ahem- revoke these wonderful exchange students of yours.

#yandere male monster musume #yandere genderbend #yandere papi genderbend #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere harem #male monster musume #monster musume #yandere monsters

[jinxedruby]

Febuwhump Day Seventeen: Hostage Situation

Featuring Time, Warriors, and Wind. This is the conclusion to Wind getting kidnapped (day four: obedience and day thirteen: you weren't supposed to get hurt).

Well, this sure is long. Fun fact: I wrote this by hand and wrote so hard that my fingers were tingling by the time I finished haha

Heads up for some graphic injury and several minor character deaths (they're all bad guys and none are very graphic).

AO3

First part | <- Previous part | Next part ->

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

Time stood beside Warriors, staring out at the river beyond the harbor. Water lapped at the numerous boats and ships moored at the docks, the fresh smell of the river filling Time’s nose. Sky stepped up beside him, peering out toward where the river stretched nearly to the horizon, only the slightest strip of land visible on the other side.

“Wow,” he said quietly. “Are we sure this isn’t an ocean?”

“Doesn’t smell like it,” Legend replied from where everyone else stood behind Time and the others.

“I didn’t know rivers could get this big,” Hyrule murmured.

“Which is why we need to find the sailor as soon as possible,” Warriors stated, turning to address the group. “There are a lot of ships. We should split up so we can cover more ground.”

Everyone paid the captain rapt attention as he split the group into pairs. Normally, that sort of job fell to Time, but his fingertips tingled and the roof of his mouth buzzed, millions of thoughts drumming against the inside of his skull. He could hardly focus on a coherent train of thought aside from save him, save him. He felt immensely grateful that Warriors could focus and strategize. He’d have to thank the captain once all of this was over and Wind was safe.

“Old man, you with me?” A tap on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. Warriors stood in front of him, gazing at him with a carefully neutral expression. When Time nodded, Warriors continued, “You and I will search the middle few docks here.” He turned to point them out and Time nodded again.

“What about the watchman?” Four asked as the pairs began to split off. “Won’t he notice us poking around the ships?”

“If this is anything like my era, the watchmen are there to make sure no one shoves off in the middle of the night,” Warriors replied. “Just don’t do anything loud and they shouldn’t bother us.”

Four nodded before heading off toward the docks with Twilight. Warriors turned to Time again.

“Ready?”

Time nodded sharply, gaze hardening as he looked out over the ships. He set off toward them, Warriors beside him. Time had to consciously remind himself not to run, despite the angst and impatience prickling under his skin. They passed by one or two errant crew members but weren’t given a second glance. Time had remained out of his armor and Warriors had removed his spaulder and scarf in order to keep a low profile. They’d also left behind their shields as Warriors worried that the moonlight reflecting off of them would draw too much attention. With only their weapons strapped to them, they could pass off as generic guards hired onto ships.

The dock creaked beneath them as they stepped onto the wood, their footsteps joining in with the rhythm of the water flowing and pushing against the ships. Several of the boats were small enough that they could simply peer over the edge and see no one aboard. The other larger ones required boarding and therefore stealth. As Time slipped past a crew member watching the deck, he remembered sneaking through the Gerudo and pirate fortresses. These men were far less observant than the Gerudo, making sneaking onto and off of the ships unseen that much easier. The cover of night certainly helped as well. He and Warriors methodically checked every ship along the dock as quickly as they could while still being thorough. With every ship they checked and no sign of Wind, Time grew more anxious. When they searched the last ship with still nothing after an hour had passed, he felt close to exploding. Warriors squeezed his shoulder reassuringly as they walked back up the dock.

“There are a lot of ships, old man,” he murmured.

That hardly made Time feel better. He clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to control his breathing. When they began down the next dock, he blurted out what had been on his mind since Wind was kidnapped.

“They thought I was his father.”

Warriors half-turned to him, brow pinched.

“In… in the moment, I…” Time pursed his lips, digging his nails into his palms.

Warriors rested a heavy hand on Time’s shoulder. “We’ll find him.”

Time let out a slow breath and nodded. The second dock took just as long to search and proved just as fruitless. Another hour gone, daylight creeping ever closer. Third dock. Nothing. Time pounded his fist against the side of the last boat on the dock. Warriors shot him a concerned glance, but he looked almost as close to snapping as Time felt. When they began the trek to the next dock, Time glanced at the ones further away to try and get a glimpse of the others. He thought he saw a blond head over the edge of one of the ships, but it was hard to tell. In any case, he could see no indication that the others had found anything. He and Warriors started down the fourth dock and Time felt close to simply screaming for Wind and hoping to get a response. He clenched his jaw to prevent himself from doing that and spooking the traffickers into hiding even better. When only three ships remained at the end of the dock, Time’s heart sank. Two ships and a boat. He could see from where he stood that the boat sat empty. That left two ships. Cogs, he thought he remembered the captain calling them.

Warriors pointed to himself then to the ship on the right, just as he’d done at the ends of the last three docks. Steeling himself, Time headed for the cog on the left. A shadowy figure moved about on the deck and Time ducked down, hugging the side of the ship and moving toward the gangway.

“You sure we shouldn’t grab another one while we’re here? We paid that customs officer off.”

Time went still at a voice from the cog, heart thudding in his ears.

“I’m sure.”

Time’s eye widened, blood freezing. That voice. Evenin’, gentlemen, he could hear that voice drawl.

“If the kid’s father survived, he’ll be making a big fuss. ‘Sides, that officer will only look the other way for so much. He hears about kids going missing, he might decide to grow a conscience.”

Time’s hands shook. This was it. This- this- Warriors. He needed to tell Warriors. After several tries and with monumental effort, he stepped away from the cog, slinking across the dock to the ship Warriors had gone to search.

“Oh, shit- Hey! We got a problem!”

Time’s head snapped around at the shout, fearing he’d been caught. But the figures aboard the cog weren’t looking at him, they were running toward the center of the ship, vanishing out of sight behind the sides. Boots pounded on what sounded like stairs. Several exchanges passed back and forth, muffled below deck. Then Time heard the words ‘kid’s gone.’ His chest tightened, eye widening. Quickly, he turned back to the ship Warriors was on.

“Captain!” he hissed as loudly as he dared. Warriors appeared over the side of the ship after a few moments, eyes round. Time pointed to the cog and he heard Warriors suck in a breath. The captain raced toward the gangway with soft steps, hurrying down it and joining Time to head to the cog. The voices from below deck raised, Time catching words like ‘don’t know’ and ‘here somewhere.’ Did Wind escape after all? Time glanced around, noticed the captain doing the same, but he didn’t catch sight of the fluffy blond head or blue tunic. Time reached the gangway first, creeping up it with Warriors just behind him. He stayed low, cautiously poking his head over the side of the ship when he was close enough. Moonlight spilled across an empty deck, warm torchlight emanating from a staircase in the center, leading below. He carefully stepped onto the deck, heard the soft thud of Warriors landing behind him. As they moved toward the stairs, the conversation below deck became clearer.

“-tching the deck the whole night, I swear, he couldn’t have gotten past.”

“Which means, like I said, that he must be down here somewhere,” the man that first approached Time and Wind said. “Stop panicking and start searching. It’s a small space, he doesn’t have that many options. Go watch the stairs to make sure he doesn’t slip past.”

Hurried footsteps came toward the stairs and Warriors and Time quickly moved around to the back of them so they wouldn’t be easily spotted. A sharp thwack like someone kicked something sounded, followed by a chuckle.

“Resourceful little brat, aren’t you?” the first man called.

Footsteps thudded on the stairs, the head of a different man appearing below Time and Warriors. Time carefully withdrew his gilded sword from its sheath on his lower back, silently stepping around the side of the stairs, remaining just out of the man’s peripherals. The man jogged up the stairs and turned around with a huff, agitatedly scratching the top of his head. His eyes darted toward where Time crouched and he froze, going bug-eyed. He opened his mouth to yell but Time moved faster. He whipped his sword about, slamming the flat of it against the side of the man’s head. Warriors was there before Time could blink, catching the man as he crumpled before he could hit the deck and alert the other traffickers.

None of that mattered though, as the second man that had followed the first up saw everything.

Before Time or Warriors could move, the man put his fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle. Warriors cursed and drew his blade as footsteps pounded from below them. The whistler took a step back down the stairs, yanking a knife from within his coat. Three more men appeared behind him. Then they all rushed up the stairs.

Time blocked the first blow with his sword, returning it with a strike of his own. The tip of the blade nicked the man in the arm, who grunted, stumbling back down a step. Another took his place, slashing at Time. Time automatically lifted his right arm to block before remembering he didn’t have his shield. He caught the blade on his forearm, clenching his teeth as it sliced through his brown undershirt and into his skin. He resisted the urge to step back, parrying the next attack.

Warriors yelped and Time glanced at him out of the corner of his eye to see the captain fall to one knee. The man Time knocked out had already woken back up and sunk a dagger into Warriors’ calf. The moment the captain went down, the men on the stairs surged forward. Time jerked forward to block a blow aimed for the captain’s neck while Warriors twisted around to fend off the man behind him. In moving, Time left an opening for the men to slip past him up the stairs. He dodged a swing, stepped so he stood directly beside Warriors, turning to face the traffickers. They circled like sharks, jumping back when Time slashed at them. He tried to find a moment to switch to the biggoron sword, but the attackers gave him no respite. They traded strike after strike, forcing Time to go on the defensive as he tried to remain as a wall between them and Warriors so the captain could recover.

The deck lurched beneath him and he staggered back into Warriors. The other men lost their footing at the unexpected motion as well, the fight halting momentarily as everyone focused on regaining their balance. A loud clatter sounded behind him.

“What are you doing?!” one man shouted.

“They’ve got company!”

Time risked a glance over his shoulder to see a different man, one that must have snuck around the other four, dropping a long pole onto the deck. The gangway lay on the dock, presumably having fallen from the cog when the man shoved away from the dock. The ropes keeping the ship in place were cut clean through. Two figures sprinted down the dock and Time recognized them to be Sky and Hyrule, the two that had been searching docks closest to him and Warriors. By the time they reached the end, the cog had already drifted too far away and Sky had to grab Hyrule to keep him from running right off the dock, the traveler not stopping fast enough.

Time didn’t get a chance to see what they did next, whipping back around to defend against the men. One lunged forward and Time ducked under the swing. He shoved off one foot, driving his shoulder into the man’s gut and knocking him back down the stairs. The man tumbled with a series of thuds and yelps as the others dove at Time. He blocked one attack which left him unable to dodge the other, knife slashing across his shoulder. He forced the first attacker away and stepped backwards. His back hit something warm and solid. He stiffened, turning, only to find Warriors fending off both the man that had stabbed him and the one responsible for undocking the ship. He turned back just in time to intercept an overhead swing with his sword, riposting and leaving a deep gash in the man’s chest. One knife clanged against his sword, another deflected off his arm and leaving another deep cut. He gritted his teeth, trying and failing to find a moment to grab his biggoron sword. Between Warriors at his back, the four men surrounding his front and right, and the stairs to his left, he had very little room to maneuver.

One man made a clumsy swing, overextending. Time knocked the knife aside, throwing the man off balance. Then he followed up by running his sword through the man’s gut. The man’s eyes bulged before Time ripped his sword free and he collapsed. The remaining three hesitated. In a flash, Time swapped the gilded sword for the biggoron sword. He swept the massive blade out in front of him in a half circle. The first man in its path failed to dodge in time, receiving a devastating slash along his middle. The others leapt back with a cry as he fell, his blood pooling beneath him and mingling with the other man’s. Time pushed his advantage, stepping forward and swiping the claymore in front of him again, forcing the men further back. A sharp yell from behind him spoke of Warriors’ success and a thrill of adrenaline rushed through Time as he realized they could win this.

“Let’s everyone calm down!” a bellow carried across the deck. A yelp accompanied it that made Time’s blood run cold. He glanced back toward the stairs he’d moved several feet away from and his heart stopped.

The man that had first approached them stood at the top of the stairs with a smug grin. His fingers twisted into the sun-bleached blond locks of Wind, a knife pressed to the sailor’s throat. Wind writhed in his grip until the blade pressed against his skin hard enough to draw blood, a mixture of anger and fear etched into his face. Blood roared in Time’s ears as he watched, eye stretched wide, hands shaking.

“You two are going to put down your weapons,” the man said casually. He yanked Wind’s head back so more of the sailor’s neck was exposed, tilted the blade more directly against his throat. “Alright?”

“You won’t kill him,” Warriors spat. Time’s gaze darted over to see Warriors staring down the man with utter loathing, knuckles white around the hilt of his sword. “He’s merchandise.”

The man cocked his head to one side and flashed a grin at the captain. “You’re right.” Then in one swift movement, he pulled the knife away from Wind’s neck and plunged it into the sailor’s arm, dragging the blade along toward his elbow. Wind yelped, high-pitched and sharp, as Warriors and Time both shouted. Heat rushed into Time’s face as he watched blood soak into Wind’s sleeve. The man flicked the knife, blood droplets scattering from the blade, before returning it to rest against the cut, drawing a small gasp from the sailor. “Nothing a potion can’t fix.”

Time could barely see straight. Pure rage boiled in his chest and throat, flooding his head. Unconsciously, he took a step toward the man and Wind, but stopped as the man shoved the point of the blade into the gash again. Wind gave a strangled shout, digging his nails into the man’s arm in an attempt to free himself, but to no avail.

“I’ll repeat myself as many times as it takes,” the man said, smile dark. “Drop your weapons.”

Half a beat passed and the man stabbed the knife deep into Wind’s arm. He twisted the weapon and Wind screamed, the sound piercing Time’s very soul. Time tore his hands away from the hilt of his sword, the blade clattering to the ground at the same time as Warriors’. The man’s grin widened and Time’s blood screeched through his veins with a hatred stronger than any he’d ever felt before. His skin burned despite the cool air pulling past him as the cog drifted farther and farther down the river. He was so focused on watching the tears roll from Wind’s eyes that he didn’t see the shadow racing toward them across the water until the last moment.

The oncoming boat rammed directly into the cog. The impact sent everyone flying with shouts. A couple men unlucky enough to be near the edge sailed right over it, plunging into the river with distant splashes. Time tumbled across the deck, colliding with another body. He ripped himself away as pandemonium erupted around him. More men came from below deck, shouting about a breach in the hull. The man he’d crashed into attacked, launching himself into Time. They toppled back, Time sent a punch into the man’s jaw. His shoulders hit something hard. He recognized it as the side of the ship. The man wrestled his way on top of Time, aiming a blow at his face. Time let it hit, instead reaching to plant his hands on the man’s middle. Then he shoved, curling and kicking the man up and over his head. The man fell over the side of the ship with a yell. Time sprang to his feet before even hearing the splash, head reeling slightly from the hit. He glanced around for his sword, discovered Legend and Wild on the deck, coming from the boat they’d crashed into the cog with.

A holler from his right alerted him to a man running up in his blind spot. The man slashed, Time ducked under the swing. He dove forward, catching the man off guard, and shoved him over the side and into the river. He turned back, remembered the gilded sword, yanked it from its sheath. He heard a grunt and spun to his left to see two men pinning Warriors to the deck. All three were unarmed and the captain kicked at them as one fisted a hand in his hair and slammed his head back into the deck. Time darted up to them. He stabbed one through the back, the other noticing the fatal blow and leaping aside. Legend appeared behind the man and smashed the hilt of his sword into the man’s temple. Warriors stumbled to his feet, Time reaching out to steady him.

“I’m- I’m good,” Warriors panted as he regained his footing. His injured leg gave beneath him but he managed to catch himself before falling. “Get the sailor!”

Time nodded and darted away, head swiveling as he looked around for Wind. He vaguely became aware of water burbling underfoot, but he couldn’t care about that. Wild fired arrows from across the deck but switched to his sword when a man got too close. Legend leapt back into the fray with a cry, tempered sword gleaming in the moonlight. Then he spotted Wind, the sailor clutching a knife in his good hand and fending off a trafficker. Time took off toward him. He made it two steps before a body collided with him, bringing him to the ground. The impact knocked his sword from his grasp, sending it skittering across the deck. He twisted, managing to knock the pair of hands away before they could wrap around his neck. He punched man in the gut then shoved, pushing him over and sending them rolling so Time was on top. He grabbed the man’s head and slammed it against the deck. Then he did it again, and again, until the man fell still. He scrambled to his feet, gaze darting to where he last saw Wind. He located Wind just as the sailor sank the knife into a man’s gut, sending him down. Wind slumped forward with a gasp, staggering slightly. He didn’t see the first man approach from behind.

A red haze flooded Time’s vision. Before he knew what happened, he sprinted across the deck, careened into the man, and brought him down. The man’s shout cut off with a gag as Time grabbed his throat, pressing all his weight down into his hands. He’d kill him, he’d kill him, for everything he’d done to Wind, to his son. Everything the man would’ve done, everything he would’ve allowed to happen, everything, everything-

Something popped under his hands then all at once someone grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him back, shouts filling his ears.

“-dead, he’s dead, Link, please!”

Time blinked and his grip loosened. Warriors yanked him back with all his strength and pulled him back off the body. Neither expecting the sudden motion, they fell to the deck in a tangled heap, Warriors ending up half beneath Time. Legend appeared above Time, grabbing his hand, pulling him up. He said something that Time didn’t register, Time glancing back almost numbly to make sure he hadn’t hurt Warriors. Then he caught sight of Wind. The sailor staggered toward him, arm drenched in blood, bits of flesh jutting out of the wound and through the hole in his sleeve. A cry tore itself from Time’s throat and he wrenched his hand out of Legend’s grip, lunging for Wind. Wind’s expression crumpled just before Time collided with him. He gathered the sailor into his arms, shaking as he clutched the back of Wind’s head and held him tight against his chest. Wind’s body hitched with a sob, arms coming up to hug Time in a death grip. Time rocked back and forth, arms shaking as he stroked Wind’s hair, tucking the sailor’s head beneath his chin. Wind was here, he was safe, and Time felt quite certain in that moment that he would never let him go ever again. Then Warriors appeared at their side, squeezing Time’s shoulder saying they had to go, ‘I’m sorry, we have to move, now.’ Time stared at him for a long moment before sound came crashing back properly into his ears. He’d hardly noticed its absence until it returned. Water roared below deck, rushing in through whatever breach the ram caused and filling the cog.

“The ship’s got a raft!” Wild yelled. Time looked up to see the champion standing at the back of the ship, one leg up on the ledge. “We can take it to shore, but we have to go now!”

Warriors shook Time’s shoulder. “Come on, Link, we have to move.”

Time nodded jerkily, unsteadily getting to his feet and keeping his hold on Wind. The sailor made no comment on being carried, hiccupping and burrowing deeper into Time’s shirt. Time, Warriors, and Legend hurried to join Wild. Warriors stooped to grab Time’s gilded sword as they passed it while Legend darted away to grab the biggoron sword where it had slid across the deck. Once they approached, Wild turned and jumped off the back of the ship. Time’s heart fluttered with panic before he reached the side and saw Wild standing on a dinghy lashed to the back of the cog. Time secured his hold on Wind before jumping the short distance down. Wild had already begun attempting to untie the dinghy by the time he landed. The champion cursed, fumbling with the knot as the cog let out a loud groan, tipping slowly to one side. Time stumbled and quickly sat down, taking one hand off of Wind and bracing it against the thwart to steady them.

Just as Wild gave up and reached for his sword, Legend jumped forward, deftly undoing the knot. The dinghy plunged and Time’s stomach fell away. The boat slammed into the water with a splash, water jetting up the sides and raining down on the heroes. Legend snatched oars from beneath the thwarts. He sat at the dinghy’s bow, stuck the oars in the water, and rowed. Two powerful strokes had them gliding across the water away from the cog. Another loud groan reverberated across the water. Time looked back just as it rolled belly-up. The boat Legend and Wild had rammed into it got pushed beneath it, sinking below the surface. The river slowly swallowed the cog, bringing the bodies of the traffickers into its embrace.

Wind shivered in Time’s arms. Time looked down at him, suddenly aware of something warm and wet seeping into the front of his shirt. He gently pulled Wind back to see the sailor’s arm curled between them, blood soaking into both of their clothes.

“Potion,” Time said, voice raspy. His head snapped up to look at the others frantically. “Potion, he needs a potion!”

Wild and Warriors both reached into their pouches, withdrawing bottles.

“Drink yours, Captain, you’re hurt,” Wild said, holding his out to Time. Warriors didn’t argue but he didn’t drink either, watching as Time grabbed the bottle. Time pulled the cork out with tingling fingers, holding it to Wind’s lips. Wind lifted his good hand to it and tilted it back, gulping it down. The others all watched, making sure he drank it all. As he did, the flow of blood from his arm stemmed, the wound closing. He finished it with a gasp, sitting up a bit straighter in Time’s lap as he did.

“Alright, Sailor?” Warriors asked softly. Wind nodded a bit unsteadily, sinking sideways into Time and resting his head on the old man’s chest.

“Captain, drink,” Wild gently reminded him. Warriors watched Wind for a moment longer before knocking back the potion and sighing with relief. Since the dinghy moved along at a steady pace, Time wrapped his other arm back around Wind, enveloping the sailor in warmth. Wind wound his arm around Time’s waist, pulling himself closer.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Time’s heart squeezed. The exhaustion of the battle, the pain of the cuts in his arm, the stress, the panic, the rage, everything came crashing down all at once. A wave of dizziness struck him, chest and extremities tingling. He exhaled through his nose and rested his cheek on Wind’s hair. He held Wind close, feeling the sailor’s little torso expanding and contracting with each breath. He closed his eye and held Wind just a little tighter.

#linked universe fic #linked universe fanfic #linked universe #tw death #ruby writes #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #lu time #lu warriors #lu wind #another fun fact: it was legend's idea to steal a boat (he was also the one that sailed it in) and wild's idea to ram the cog with it #I know so much about medieval boats now

[stars-couragetobefree]

omori main cast with string reader 👀👀

Also can i be 🧸 anon?

Haha, it's okay! And yes, you can be 🧸 anon. This is my very first main Omori cast request, thank you for sending! I hope you like it, I tried my best.

Omori Main Cast with a strong reader

✧Sunny✧

Sunny quietly admires you very much

You know how he adds “Wow...” when describing Hero? Yes, he does that with you. A lot more than he’s willing to admit

He’s like a cat who has his eyes dilated when he looks at you and sees you do something cool

His ears turn pink and he noticeably blushes

He’s quite a disaster, he doesn’t say it, but he is.

You’d catch Sunny staring at you every now and then

He’d try to play it off by looking down at his shoes, but he’s not very subtle

He thinks about how easily you could lift him, and with a vivid imagination like his, he sees it very clearly and gets very flustered.

Sunny’s just a mess, in the best way possible.

★Kel★

Kel thinks you are the coolest person ever!

Just look at how easily you can lift those boxes! He’d have stars in his eyes almost every time.

He’s really fond of you and gives you a few challenges every now and then

“Hey, can you crush this can???”

And when you do he is just so amazed.

He’s just like an excited puppy

Kel doesn’t realize, but he’s a lot fonder of you and your strength than someone normally would.

But he doesn't know that 

He just enjoys how cool you are, on a not-so-normal scale

But if you lift him he might have a moment of realization..

◇Aubrey◇

Aubrey didn’t expect that, and it secretly has her a bit of a mess.

Sure, she’s strong too, but something about seeing you lift a bench without any struggle has her feelings very mixed

She tries to play it off though

She even tries challenging you to whoever stronger sometimes

“Oh yeah? Bet you can’t throw a stone farther.”

In simple words, she’s impressed, but she won’t say that out loud

She even wonders sometimes if you could carry her.. But she shakes those thoughts away-

Don’t worry, she’ll come around soon enough!

Or she’ll keep flustering herself to death-

✿Basil✿

Oh, Basil is a poor disaster for you

I mean, he’s a disaster already, but when it comes to you he’s incomprehensible

He stutters a significant amount more, and he’s fidgeting all the time

But that’s only because someone as incredible as you makes him nervous!

You offer him to help in the garden, carrying fertilizer and that of the like, and he almost faints

“U-Uh.. S-Sure! I-If you want to… haha..”

The mix of you being so kind to him, and also seeing you work, is almost too much for him-

He’d be the kind to just be staring at you and completely forget what he was doing, or that he was staring until told

In that case, he would panic and apologize a lot, as he would.

All in all, Basil is very much a mess for you. You make him nervous and panicky but oh my goodness do you make him feel safe.

He really likes your presence, if only he could enjoy it without almost fainting.

✦Hero✦

“Woah,” is Hero’s first thought

Next is the compliments, because of course

“Wow, you’re amazing!”

He acts all calm but wow is he flustered

If you do anything casually, he’d be very cool about it

But if you intentionally direct something at him, oh you’ve got him now

He starts tripping over his words, and his charm has completely flipped

Hero’s supposed to charm you! But instead you make him a stuttering mess

Whenever he’d ask you for help for anything heavy, he internally is very excited to have you around

Sure, he’s glad you get to help, but just seeing you and working with you, or watching you, makes his heart flutter a bit.

He hopes that isn’t weird...

He admires you a whole lot is all!

♡Mari♡

Mari is the definition of a lenny face, for lack of better wording.

“Oh wow~ My big and strong knight in shining armor!”

She’d always ask you for help for something just to see you use your strength 

She then promptly teases you in her usual flirty manner

“I’m soo lucky to have someone so strong to help little ol’ me! Hehe~”

Internally Mari's equally as flustered as anyone else, but she deals with it by being upfront with you

She’s the boss, you aren’t getting her that easily.

But if you do lift her there’s a small chance she’d break! A very small chance..

#star requests #star headcanons #omori #sunny x reader #reader x sunny #kel x reader #reader x kel #aubrey x reader #reader x aubrey #basil x reader #reader x basil #hero x reader #reader x hero #mari x reader #reader x mari #sunny omori #kel omori #aubrey omori #basil omori #hero omori #mari omori #that's a lot of tags #anyways thank you so much for requesting! #i hope this was okay... i tried my best #i assumed it's headcanons.. #i have one last request to do but thank you 🧸 anon for the wonderful request!

[honeybeezx]

Armor -Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 8

Authors Note: haha ✨surprise✨ I t’s been forever since an update, i honestly kinda fell out of writing for a while. But I rewatched game of Thrones recently and knew I had to finish this. I will try my best to be more consistant with this because I love the characters and I have a plan for this story. Thank you for sticking with this story and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Summary: Silver Hawk’s first night in Dorne

Word Count: 5k

Trigger Warnings: none

—————————————————————————

“You seem distracted.” Ellaria teased, pulling you out of your state as you both rode your horses into the city.

“Just in awe.” You clarified as your eyes danced across the bright colored buildings and the jubilant people welcoming back their prince. “Your homeland…it’s beautiful.”

Ellaria smiled softly, a smile that would have looked out of place on someone with a razor tongue. But you knew her, and you hoped she would always smile at you like that.

“For as much as Oberyn and I love to travel, Dorne will always be my favorite place. Sunspear agrees with you.”

You couldn’t argue with that. It was as if the land itself had opened up to you.

But you saw the people among the streets, saw them whisper as they looked at you. You normally did not care about the judgement of others, but whispers could be dangerous to a foreigner. If word of an assassin sworn to obey the command of Tyrion Lannister, the Martell’s sworn enemy reached the ears of the people, you knew your presence would create an uncomfortable situation for House Martell.

“Don’t worry. The people simply do not know you, but they will.” Ellaria assured confidently.

“I hope you’re right.”

It wasn’t long before you reached the palace. You dismounted your horses and walked up the luscious water gardens until you were inside the palace. It was as if the palace had built by the very sand that it rested upon. The many columns and archways were more impressive than they were foreboding, unlike the Red Keep.

You thought you were being received in a throne room, only to find Doran Martell waiting comfortable in a small parlor, a man behind him which you could only assume was his guard judging by the size of him. You imagined most people thought of Dorne’s ruler as weak and feeble given his condition, but Doran seemed every bit as stoic and strong as a king should be.

“This is my brother, Doran, Prince of Dorne and head of House Martell.” Oberyn introduced, like he was proud to be by your side, proud to introduce you to his brother.

You hoped you were worthy of all that.

“Welcome to Dorne, Silver Hawk. I’ve heard many a great stories about you.” Doran greeted warmly. Strong, stoic…and incredibly kind.

“It is an honor, your grace. I am very fortunate to be received by such a beautiful land and by such a kind family.”

“A land that has only been made more beautiful by your presence.”

Were all the Martells just inherently charming?

“Be careful, brother. I had my eyes on her long before you and even then she did not take so kindly to my…compliments.” Oberyn teased, making you roll your eyes.

“Your grace, it was a much more complicated situation.” You defended before flashing Oberyn a look that was anything but pleased.

But Doran simply chuckled. “Nothing with my brother is anything less than complicated. As I said before you are very welcome here. Should you need anything during your stay do not hesitate to ask it of us.”

You smiled softly. When was the last time you liked someone so quickly?

“Your grace is too kind. Thank you for your generosity. I will do what I can to repay you for it.”

Doran shook his head. “Not necessary. You are a guest, I demand nothing. Please, simply enjoy your stay. You are welcome to join the rest of the family for dinner, however, if you are overwhelmed by your travels and prefer to be alone we will happily send some to bring you food.”

“Oh that won’t be necessary.” You quickly intervened. Most of the time you hunted your own food, food being prepared for you was strange let alone having being brought to you. “I’d be happy to join everyone at dinner. Oberyn and Ellaria have spoken so highly of their family and I’m eager to meet them.”

“Wonderful. I will see you this evening then.” And with that, Doran was assisted out of the parlor and out into the water gardens.

“He liked you almost as quickly as I did. Though you were much friendlier and obliging than you were upon our first meeting.” Oberyn teased, almost like he was wounded. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you prefer my brother.”

“I don’t prefer anyone.” You retorted sharply, glaring at him disapprovingly. “However, your brother never asked if I would consider fucking him.”

Ellaria didn’t even try holding back her laughter.

Oberyn smiled devilishly. “I simply made our desires known litse riñe.”

“Litse riñe?”

Oberyn smirked, but didn’t elaborate. “Come, we will show you to your quarters.”

You looked to Ellaria, hoping she would explain the meaning of her lover’s words, but she simply cupped your cheek gently and smiled before following Oberyn.

The room was better than you could have imagined. A huge open archway allowed sunlight into your room, and led to a small balcony that overlooked the city. But doors were attached, she you could close them at night and keep yourself safe, or to at least feel protected. The bed was huge, it encompassed the middle of the room, yet there was still space for more things. The wall opposite the balcony was lined with books, maps, and scrolls that you were sure would be well-read by the time you left this place.

“This is too much. Would you rather save this space for an honored guest? I’m perfectly fine in a-“

“You are an honored guest.” Ellaria cut off. “And you should be more than just comfortable. Who knows how long it will be until you are able to return to Tyrion? This place should feel like home, even if it’s just for a little while.” She chided, but somehow you got the feeling she wouldn’t mind this being your room permanently.

“It’s just so…big.” You had never had anything this nice, not even in the Red Keep.

“If you don’t like it we can-“

“No!” You cut off Oberyn quickly before calming yourself. “I mean, if you need this room for another guest or for any reason at all I should be happy in a smaller quarters. But this room is perfect. I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful…I’m just not used to such….luxury.”

Because that’s what this was, a luxury that you weren’t quite sure you deserved, or even knew what to do with.

Oberyn chuckled and glanced around the room. “You should join me in the library sometime if you wish to see true luxury.”

“Or our bedroom.”

Both you and Oberyn shot Ellaria a surprised look, both of you thinking talk like that was out of the question, especially since you had made your feelings of discomfort known when it came to flirting.

But Ellaria was far more observant than her lover. You let Oberyn call you a sweet name without too much questioning, even though you could easily get the explanation out of him. You let Ellaria touch your cheek without even flinching.

And you had kissed their knuckles aboard the ship. A simple gesture that should have seemed like nothing, but was everything to the three of you.

“As soon as I am settled I’d love to see everything.”

“We hope to see you there soon. Until then, get settled and join us for dinner. I will send Syrene in to help you unpack.”

“Thank you….both of you.” You said simply, though you knew there were not any words you knew of that could have expressed your gratitude.

They both simply smiled at you before taking their leave. You began to unpack, which really just meant you took off your sheath of arrows. The rest of it was already there. A large dresser was already full with pretty gowns that you were sure you would never wear. But Ellaria and Oberyn knew you better than that. In the lower drawers were cotton pants and loose shirts. Different from the heavy woolen shirts you wore under your armor in the North, even different from the tight under-armor you wore in the capital. Still, Dorne was a blistering hot country, and although the clothes still didn’t exactly suit your tastes, they were certainly the most logical for the climate.

But you didn’t have the slightest clue what to wear to dinner. Normally you wouldn’t care, but you’ve never been a guest of a great house before, especially not as just another assassin. Did they expect you to dress nicely? Or did they expect you as you always were, with arrows strapped to your back and armor covering your body.

As if she heard your thoughts, Syrene knocked at your door.

“I’m so glad Oberyn and Ellaria sent you. What am I expected to wear to dinner.”

Syrene thought for a moment. “Well…you aren’t on duty as a guard or anything now, and you have no reason to wear your armor, so…” she opened your drawers, luckily the ones that weren’t full of dresses.

“Here.” He laid out a…you weren’t quite sure what it was.

“How do I get in it?”

Syrene laughed. “You step in it, silly. It’s all one piece so it somewhat gives the appearance of a dress, but still gives you the freedom to move as you do in trousers.”

It wasn’t the worse thing you had ever seen. It was a brown color, but it had orange hues that matched the Dornish colors. In the middle was a think brown belt that would easily let you hide your dagger (not that you knew how to use it well, or that you even thought you needed it, but you could never be too careful). Your arms would be exposed, but you supposed you could deal with that for tonight, especially in such a hot climate.

If you were being honest with yourself, you actually really liked the design.

“Thank you, this is perfect.” You knew you would be indebted to your friend by the end of your stay in Sunspear

“Do not mention it. Would you like me to do you hair?” She offered kindly.

Your hair, when was the last time you ever cared about your hair?

“No, I think I will just put it up in a simple braid, but thank you.” You could change your ways a little in a new land, but somethings you wanted to control. Your hair was always up or in some sort of braid, you didn’t want to change that now.

“Certainly.” Syrene smiled. “Are you nervous about dining with them? I mean, the Martell’s are a good family, but I think I would be scared to dine with such highborn people.” She admitted.

But you simply shrugged.

“They’re just people. I don’t believe in people being born higher or lower than others, just those who were born into better circumstances. The Martells have flaws, they will live and they will die as everyone else will.” Goodness, you did not expect to reveal so much of your thoughts to her, you made a note to keep them in check. Syrene was a friend, but she was still someone you barely knew. “Like you said, they are good people. I’m not afraid of good people.”

Syrene smiled. “If I were half as intimidating as you I don’t think I could be afraid of anyone.”

You shrugged. You had always known what people thought and expected of you, but it wasn’t nearly as fun as it sounded. Sure, you could be a threat to those that challenged you, but sometimes…you just wanted friends. Tyrion had befriended you easily, but he saw through you, better than most. Not everyone was as clever as him, even Bronn and Shae had trouble trusting and connecting with you. You hadn’t blamed them, it was just…difficult.

You made a mental note to work on that.

When you were fully changed, you were shocked by the image in the mirror. It wasn’t often you were without your armor, and even now the idea of it made your heart race. What were you thinking? This was a strange land, and although you trusted the Martell’s, you couldn’t expect the whole land to be fine with an ex-guard for one of the Lannisters roaming about their homeland. If word got out quick enough, you knew there could be a bounty on your head.

You can never relax, can you?

Even when he was away Tyrion was a nagging voice in your head.

“Do you like it?” Your new acquaintance asked as she adjusted the necklace she added.

It was a hard question. Truthfully, you would always feel on edge without your armor. But otherwise….it was comfortable.

“It’s perfect.” You settled on, not wanting to hurt Syrene’s feelings nor make a big deal out of something as trivial as clothing. You could deal with being armorless for one night.

The dining hall was impressive, much larger than you expected. The the table stretched the length of the room, but everyone was gathered at one side and close together to allow easier conversation. Oberyn, Ellaria, and Doran were there, but then…four younger girls that no one could have doubted to be Oberyn’s daughters.

But when you entered, all eyes fell on you.

“Who’s the pretty lady?” A girl, you had to guess was only slightly older than the little girl next to Oberyn, asked so sweetly it could have turned even you soft.

Ellaria smiled and booped her daughter’s nose. “The pretty lady is The Silver Hawk your father and I were talking about.”

“But where’s her armor?”

“Take a good look, because this might be the only time you see me without it on.” You laughed while Oberyn stood to pull out a chair for you. “You’ll have to see me when I’m out shooting sometime. It’s better to see in the sunlight anyways.”

“Can you really shoot apples off people’s heads?” Asked another, slightly older than the other.

“Don’t be stupid, no one is that good.”

“Girls.” Oberyn cut off sharply. “Elia, that wasn’t kind, apologize to your sister.”

“But-“

“Elia.”

The girl groaned, but did as her father instructed.

“I apologize on behalf of my daughters. They have curious minds and I’ve been telling them about you in my letters. I’m afraid the tales of your talents have reach their ears and there’s no quelling their interest.”

You never did care for all the far-fetched stories about your talents, but somehow you didn’t mind Oberyn telling his girls. In truth, it was sweet. You flashed a quick smile to Oberyn before smiling softly at the little girl next to you. “I can shoot an apple off of someone’s head. I did it in King’s Landing, your mother and father saw it.”

“It’s true.” Ellaria interceded. “She saved his life too. Won a whole archery competition in front of the queen regent and the king. We have a true talent in Sunspear.”

While it was true, you didn’t know if you wanted so much attention on yourself. “All this talk about me, and I don’t even know any of your names!”

“I’m Dorea!”

You smiled, already liking the little girl who had called you pretty first thing when you walked in.

“My name is Obella. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

She was very articulate for so young a girl. She looked sharp, smart and clever as her father, but beautiful like her mother, showing more of her mother’s features than her sisters did. “The pleasure is all mine.”

The oldest of the four was quiet, crossing her arms in defiance. Both Oberyn and Ellaria shot her a glare, and the girl knew she wouldn’t be getting out of this.

“Elia.” She replies curtly.

“A beautiful name.” You tried complimenting, remembering that it was Oberyn’s late sister’s name.

But the girl was not so easily charmed, she remained quiet.

You didn’t know what you did to her, but you didn’t press. Even then, you liked her. You didn’t like very many people upon first meeting them either.

So this is what Oberyn and Ellaria felt like when they first met me….

Oberyn nudged the little girl sitting between you and him. She was the cutest little girl you had ever seen, but you could tell she was still shy.

“It’s your turn little one, can you tell our guest your name?” Oberyn asked, giving his little girl an encouraging nudge. But the little girl just hid her face in her father’s arm and cuddled close to him.

“She’s shy.” He mouthed to you over her little shoulder.

“You have a very pretty dress.” You complimented, hoping to get the little girl to look at you. “Very fitting for such a beautiful princess.”

The girl eventually did peek back at you, but then quickly turned back to her father. “Is she a princess?”

You weren’t even wearing a gown, so the girl’s assumption took you by surprise, but you were flattered all the same, even made you laugh a little.

“No, but she certainly looks like she could be, doesn’t she?” Oberyn smiled, ruffling her curls before lifting his head to smile at you. “I’m sure she would still love to know your name, little one.”

“I would.” You agreed.

The girl barely peeked back at you. “Loreza.”

And suddenly you liked children.

You didn’t think you had before, but your heart was already melting at all these sweet girls. Elia still needed some encouragement, but even then you liked her spunk. You had never really seen what a good, healthy, relatively normal family structure looked like, you had chosen your family after your father died, and even then it’s was just the two of you. But here were four girls lucky enough to have two parents and a luxurious home…you thought they would be entitled rich kids…only to find that Ellaria and Oberyn were the best parents you had ever seen.

And it made you softer than you would ever admit.

————————

Dinner passed by quickly, it was mostly filled with tales of your misadventures with Tyrion and the others, even some of the trouble you got up to by yourself. The girl’s hung on your every word, even Elia seemed interested, though she hid her enthusiasm far better than her little sisters.

But soon enough, Lorena gave a few quiet yawns, signaling the girl’s bed time. You smiled softly, ready to excuse yourself to let the parents tuck in their children before you felt a tug on your pants.

The little girl didn’t say anything, just lifted her hands in the air, like picking her up and carrying her was expected of you. It made you smile, but you looked to her parents for permission. They nodded and you didn’t even hesitate to scoop her up once they both gave encouraging nods. You could already see her eyes getting heavy as you let her head rest on your shoulder.

“You two will have to show me the way, I’d get lost trying to find my way by myself in this place.” You joked.

“Come on girls, I’ll tuck you in while your father and our guest take care of your sisters.” Ellaria chided, taking Elia and Obella while Oberyn scooped up Dorea.

“Good night girls, it was a pleasure meeting you both.” You smiled. Elia still seemed unimpressed, but Obella gave a sleepy wave goodbye before following her mother. You’d take the small win, even if you were determined to convince Elia that the two of you could at least be acquaintances.

A mission for another time.

Right now you needed to get the sack of potatoes in your arms to bed.

“Follow me.” Oberyn whispered, Dorea already out in his arms as quickly as Loreza fell asleep in yours.

You took quiet steps to reach their shared room. You placed the sleeping girl in her tiny bed and brushed away a few of her raven curls from her face. It was a sweet scene, almost instinctively you wanted to give both girls a goodnight kiss on the forehead, but thought better if it. They weren’t your daughters after all…

“Thank you for entertaining their imagination. My girls are strong, they have dreams of becoming warriors like their older sisters. It’s exciting for them to hear of other female warriors outside of their homeland, makes it feel all the more possible for them to achieve their dreams if they have other women to look up to.”

Look up to?

You had never thought of yourself as someone people would look up to. You didn’t do what you thought was right, you always did what you did to keep yourself alive. Their own sisters were more of an appropriate roll model, strong women who fought for their country, not for themselves.

“I’m not quite sure ‘warrior’ is the word, and I’m not sure I can inspire them as much as their own sisters probably already do, but I’d do anything to encourage them to learn how to at least protect and defend themselves. They’re strong girls, they get that from their parents.” You complimented with a small smile towards the girls’s father.

“That’s all a father can hope for. I want everything for them, I want them to be able to do anything they put their minds to. I’d do anything to help them with that.” Oberyn spoke as if you weren’t there, he was focused on Dorea, brushing her hair back from her face with careful fingers. You didn’t mind being forgotten, it was sweet. You still felt like you didn’t know everything about Oberyn, but the one thing you could be certain on was that he was a fantastic father.

He pulled himself out of his musings and returned to you. “Forgive me, I’m afraid my daughters can make me rather sentimental.”

You shook you head. “Never feel like you have to apologize for loving your daughters. I’ve never seen a man feel so blessed to have daughters, most men want sons.”

Oberyn shrugged. “Perhaps I had wondered what it would have been like to have a son, but I wouldn’t change anything, not for the world. I am too content with my daughters to change anything. Happiness is a rarity, when you have it, don’t wish to change any part of it.” He smiled before coming to stand next to you and kiss Loreza’s head as well.

And then…he was so close to you.

So close that you saw the specks of amber in his deep brown eyes, and the way his hair was much curlier near the nape of his neck, the way his chest heavily rose and fell with every steady breath.

So close that you could have touched him.

But you didn’t.

“I hope that you will find happiness here, even if it is for a brief time. I know your happiness lies with your chosen family but-“

“It’s not.” You interceded, to both of your surprise, but you had meant it all the same.

“Tyrion, Shae, Bronn, they make me feel safe, they are my family, but they’re not what makes me happy…or at least not the happiest.”

Oberyn looked at you with narrowed eyes and you just realized how cold and unfeeling you sounded. “I had a life before all of them, and I knew happiness before them. I found happiness in the trees…in using my arrows to defend myself, but to also provide for myself, whether it be from offering my services or hunting for food. I found happiness in choosing my own path. I’m not a princess or a lady, I don’t have luxury, but I also don’t have to prepare for ruling a kingdom or building one. I just…live. And nothing in the word makes me happier than that.”

And you didn’t even realize how much you were telling him. You supposed you had nothing to lose now. Your family was already in harms way and there’s was nothing you could do about it, you were in a strange land, and he was the only person you knew other than Ellaria. In truth, it was amazing that he didn’t know more about you, you felt at his mercy.

But Oberyn just looked interested in all this. You couldn’t even be surprised. You couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him about your father aboard the ship and here you were telling him your secret to happiness. Of course he would be interested, this was the most you had given him in months.

“You value freedom.” Oberyn nodded. “As do I, I just supposed I always had it. There are certain expectations as Prince, but not as many if I had been named king. It is fortunate that I was not named so.” He laughed, and while you liked Oberyn, you knew he would be a terrible king.

“You would have had a powerful queen at your side, she would have helped you…but then you would have never had the pleasure of having me threaten you in a brothel.” You teased.

“Truly the highlight of my life.”

“Naturally.”

“Naturally.”

You both chuckled before Oberyn ushered you out the door, not wanting your laughter to wake his sleepy daughters.

“Thank you for helping me get them to bed. Trying to carry both of them would have been nearly impossible and I know one of them would have been upset about trying to walk. Loreaza is shy, but she doesn’t let just anyone pick her up. She likes you, even if she doesn’t know how to say so.” Oberyn deciphered, leading you back to your room.

“I’m not sure Elia feels the same.” You laughed. Oberyn looked back to you with concern, but you shook your head. “I’m not offended, I’m the last person who had any right to be offended. I don’t like anyone I meet the first time either…except your daughters.” You added as an afterthought, realizing you took to them quicker than anyone else.

Oberyn smiled softly at the ground. “It warms my heart to hear it. Elia will come around. She is difficult at times, but she’s a smart girl. She knows more about the world than her sisters so she’s more guarded, but she will come around with time.”

You nodded, but somehow you wondered if Oberyn was making the task of winning her favor seem easier than it really was. “I’m not worried, I think she’s right to have her guard up. An archer who was previously employed by the Lannisters, marching into Dorne, their greatest enemy…I think the bigger problem will be preventing someone outside the palace from murdering me.” You tried laughing it off, but the people of Dorne were fierce people, they felt everything strongly. If there seemed to be a threat in their homeland, they would do something about it.

“Then we will have to show them that you are not our enemy.” Oberyn was apparently king of confidence. Everything seemed so simple to him, he had more faith in you than you had in yourself.

“And how do you purpose we do that?” You asked, because things were not so simple to you.

Oberyn stopped, and before you even realized it you were back at your door. He looked deep in thought, his strong brow furrowed. “I don’t know…but we will find a way. I will talk to Ellaria tonight as well. These people will not hate you. I know them as if they were of my own blood. You have too much goodness in you for them to dislike you.”

It were as if his words stole the air from your lungs. What were you to say to that? Goodness? When had anyone ever called you good? You were an assassin for hire, your job was to kill. Your goodness was a lie that not even Tyrion could pass off.

“I think you think too highly of me, Prince Oberyn.”

“I don’t think I do.”

Was he getting closer? His eyes never left yours, they burned a hole right through you. You wondered how it could suddenly feel even hotter in this desert, but the warmth flooding your cheeks was proof of the change.

Then his eyes moved to your lips.

You parted them.

Then he took your hand and placed a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Good night, Silver Hawk.”

You wanted to say something, anything, but everything felt like too much; his eyes, his warmth, his sweet kiss. You looked to him to try and convey some sense of a reply, but it seemed impossible. You scrambled into your room, only having enough control to not slam the door in his face. He had seen it, your cheeks and the look in your eye.

For the first time he had seen you look truly afraid.

Because you wanted to kiss him, but something told you you couldn’t.

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#pedro pascal #oberyn x reader #oberyn martell #oberyn x you x ellaria #oberyn x reader x ellaria #game of thrones #ellaria sand #prince oberyn #game of thrones fic #got #oberyn martell imagine

[immortaladrien]

A charismatic knight attempting to get a cold person to spar with them?

haha this is super fluffy and cute! unless… (featuring adrien, wanting to add angsty plot twists to everything)

tws: swords, peer pressure, stabbing, fluff, angst, tragic endings & corruption (the fluff ends at the ☕️!)

“One round!”

The witch peeled their gaze from the inside of a spellbook, grimacing. Knight-boy had dropped a jousting sword by their foot, beaming expectantly.

Damn that dazzling smile.

The witch cleared their throat and looked back down. “I am in the middle of studying.”

“You’re always in the middle of studying!” The grin reached their eyes now, clearly not deterred in the slightest.

“Perhaps that’s a sign to leave me be.”

“Or ‘perhaps’ you’re being stubborn.”

Their counterpart scoffed a little, turning a page. “One of us certainly is.”

With a dramatic groan, the knight crossed their arms. “You’re no fun! Don’t you want to do anything other than read?”

Have you ever even read a book? “Go away.”

“I need someone to practice with!”

“You have other friends. Ask one of them.”

That did… something. An awkward silence immediately washed over the two and the knight fell quiet, fidgeting awkwardly with the plates of their armor.

“You… do have other friends, don’t you?”

“You’re the best opponent out of everyone I’ve fought.”

How bizarrely avoidant. “I hardly know how to wield a sword. You’re lying through your teeth.”

“Maybe so, but you’re cunning! And unpredictable! Hell, last time I saw you fight, you hit a guy with a spell and he went crying for his mother…” They trailed off, as if revisiting a fond memory.

“You were… there? You watched my duel?”

The knight nodded enthusiastically, beaming yet again. “They don’t train us how to deal with magic users in the field, so I go to your matches. I’ve been taking notes! And you’re the only one that I know that actually uses magic, so…”

A slight heat creeped on to the witches’ face, stumbled for words. “That’s– you’re– just study books, or something.”

“I know that’s what you do,” their counterpart pouted, leaning on a sword. “But I’m so much better learning through experience. I didn’t exactly read a book on the best place to stab someone. I just.. tried a couple times until I figured out what made them fall the fastest.”

It was hard not to smile at that. “So I should spar you because… You’ll learn my tricks and stab me?”

“W…What! No!” The knight squawked, eyes wide. “No, you should spar me because it will be fun! And you can… practice spells on me, or something?”

“I’m teasing.”

“Oh.” Their cheeks flushed a light pink.

The witch signed fondly. Damn them being this cute, too. “You’re not going to leave me alone until we spar, are you?”

Sensing where this was going, the knight lit up. “Correct.”

“And you’ll let me go back to studying afterwards?”

“Right again!”

“I guess that leaves me with one option,” The witch stood from their seat with a halfhearted stretch. “Do not actually stab me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Their friend took their wrist and tugged them towards the training fields, grinning wildly.

- ☕️ -

The witch peered over the battlefield with a disgusted grimace. They’d never seen this much carnage in one battle; frankly, they never processed that it would go this far.

Lives must be lost in the name of revolution. Blood must be spilled.

It was simply the amount of blood…

They sighed, kicking their final fallen foes body to the side. God, do I need a drink. With a yawn, they made their way further into the kingdom.

Knights didn’t really train in the way of magic users, a old friend once told them. The training must not have changed much over the years, because these warriors had been pathetic; the King had said they’d be the best and brightest, and in total the battle had been about 20 minutes.

(As they walked, they noticed the streets to the castle were clear of civilians. Unsurprising, but nonetheless very welcome.)

Of course, the King had always been an incompetent buffoon. The witch had experienced his stupidity first hand after being thrown in the dungeons the day of their graduation. ‘Magic is far too dangerous,’ he’d said. ‘You’ll corrupt all of our holy warriors.’

They all were slain now, so what good had it done him?

Reaching the castle gates came with relative ease. The Witch knocked, for the sake of politeness.

(They hadn’t really expected the doors to open, but they still internally scoffed at how rude the royal was even now.)

The path to the throne room wasn’t long once they blew open the doors with a simple spell of wind. Sure, their approach would be obvious, but where did the old man have to hide?

“O mighty king,” They sung from the final turn. “Judgement day has finally arrived.”

They rounded the bend and in front of them laid the massive corridor with a throne in the back. Sitting on the throne was the old man, as cold and cocky as ever. The witch peered up to him with a grin.

“Any final words, your highness?”

“You said you would kill my entire army before you finally came for my head.”

The witch laughed airily, a spine-chilling sound. “Perhaps you need to look outside, my king. Your men lay in shambles, they died merciful deaths… Yours will not be nearly as kind.”

The king grunted acknowledgment, but a small devilish grin emerged on his lips. “That was not my entire army.”

“Then you forgot to send them all. It is your flaw, not mine.” They prepared a spell, holding an orb of necrotic magic in their hands with ease. “I will kill all those that face me, and everyone who dared has already fallen.”

“There’s one more who dares. It was simply a fight I wanted to overlook.”

The witch scoffed, taking aim regardless. “Who?”

The king motioned behind them.

Wary of a trick, they spun on their heels slowly. Their breath instantly caught in their throat.

Their darling knight, head hung low, stood inches from them.

Years of age weighed on their face, and their stance was far worse for wear than anything the witch had remembered. Eyebags. Ragged breathing. A shell of their former glory at best, but the person they’d once loved all the same.

“What has he done to you?” The witch whispered, voice tender and low.

The hero wrenched their eyes shut, drawing their sword. “One round.”

#knight x witch #golden retriever x black cat #childhood friends to enemies #friends to enemies #hero x villain #sheduled #request #angst #fluff #angst and fluff #hurt no comfort #i’m so sorry

[palestporn]

Continuing the encouragement: I would very much be interested in reading In Cold Blood on ao3!! I’d be interested in reading pretty much anything you write tbh—you could publish Gamkar’s grocery list and it would still be one of the best things I’ve ever read

Haven't posted about this over here much but STILL WORKING ON IT, 107,000 words in at the moment, 6 chapters mostly complete, probably at least 4 or 5 more to finish out?? At least? It's been a second since I wrote humanstuck stuff, haha, it's a fun shakeup.

-

Gamzee turns his hands, and you let them go; he falters back like he wasn’t expecting that, and then cautiously touches your skin with cold fingertips, tracing along the place under your jaw where your armor doesn’t cover.  Pausing at your pulse, like he can feel how it’s pounding hard enough to make you shake.

He says, “...You scared of me?”

You don’t know.  You just look up at him, so fucking tired, and tilt your head to press against his touch.  

His hands slip around your throat, and you let them.  Frame your neck, almost lovingly, thumbs pressed against your jugular veins.  A careful hint of pressure that you know could knock you out in seconds if he squeezed.  

“Gonna tell me how okay I am again?” he says, and you can’t tell if it’s a dig or a plea.  His thumb strokes back and forth over your pulse, presses for a second, twitches away again.  “Go on, motherfucker.  Tell me how you’ll fix me.”

His grip tenses when you reach up—you move slow, breathing steady, and just rest a hand on his hand.  Like he did when you washed his hair for him, just holding him there.  Waiting.  

“Tell me how you’ll fix me,” he says again, and he’s begging, this time, his grip tightens and loosens and tightens again.  “Can’t stop you.  I’ll fuckin’ let you, even.  Won’t have to hurt me, I won’t make you.  Just tell me how I’m good for you, I swear I’ll learn.”

Your eyes are burning.  You can’t turn your face away from him, with his hands at your throat—and you’re so tired.  You’re so fucking tired of acting like you know what to do.  You can feel him hurting in your chest, reaching out for you now, giving in all in a rush, a flood; you don’t know how to take what he wants to give.  You don’t want to.  You can’t.

You shake your head, and feel a hot tear track down one of your cheeks, stupid and helpless.  Gamzee twitches back, eyes widening—reaches out like he’s going to brush the tear away, grits his teeth, jerks his hands away and knots them in his hair instead.

“Sorry,” he says, wretched and small.  “I’ll take, I’ll do, whatever penance—  I know you’re pissed, ‘m sorry—”

He flinches when you lean forward—when you touch his cheek he goes still, shivering.  When you kiss his forehead, he makes a noise like a bitten-off sob.

“What should I,” he starts, half-frantic, and you shake your head and kiss his cheek, his lips, the tip of his nose, combing your fingers at his hair.  “Do you want, should I—” his hand touches your thigh, hesitant—you twitch back despite yourself and he goes still, yanking his hand back like your skin burned him.  “Sorry, fuck, sorry—  Tell me the rules, motherfucker, tell me what you want!” 

He sounds half-desperate, and the tone of his voice burns, the way he’s looking at you.  Like he looked at his god, reverent and terrified.  

“You always knew what I should do, best friend, Karkat, your will be done, your motherfucking commandment—”

#miracrails #gamkar #homestuck #In Cold Blood #i have no idea what tag i used for that universe on this blog and I have to go to work so i have no time to check oh no haha #catch me cradling my blorbos in my hands like ''oh i think they should be a little fucked up'' #for spice!!! for flavor lol

[appl3-juice-box]

OKAY OKAY IM GETTING MY FRIEND TO WATCH UNDERVERSE FOR THE FIRST TIME AND SHE DOESNT EVEN KNOW WHAT UNDERTALE IS SO HER OUT OF CONTEXT COMMENTARY IS SO FUCKING AMAZING I HAVE TO DOCUMENT IT AND MY EXPLANATIONS

For context, anything in () will be my explanations

@speak-now-girlies-unite because she said to tag her

is he wearing slippers omg this is amaxing

omg love me a male wife 🤭

soul absorption fancy (Yeah that basically means "haha I stole half of your life source lol, now gimme the other half and die")

i love the name ink so much

DID HE JUST THROW UP IN HIS EXCITEMENT OF TALKING ABOUT SOMETHING???? JUST LIKE ME FRFR (YEAH THATS WHAT HE DOES ITS KINDA QUIRKY)

crying? bb boy let me buy you a hamster to wipe your tears with

cross omg cool name

omg is that the error guy (YEA THATS THE ERROR GUY![I had previously talked about him]) YEAH (HES HOT RIGHT?) YEAH (YEAH)

the white/red soul thing is making me zzzzbrrrrr in interest (Ohohoho, youre gonna love this) that makes me also zzzbrrr in interest

samn that’s kinda sad i wanna write fanfiction about his sad life

oh my god is that a real life skater boy, with a backwards cap am i hallucinating (THATS FRESH HES SO FUCKING COOL)

he has a backwards cap (ITS GOT A LITTLE PROPELLER ON TOP TOO) does it really omg (YEAH) WOO

dark spaghetti thing ?? (which one, the emo?) Yeah I think so *intermission to find what the dark spaghetti is* (THATS NOT THE EMO THATS NIGHTMARE IM CRYING) seems pretty emo to me (trust me there's more)

OH MY GOD THE SUN PERSON >>>> (THE SUN PERSON I CANT) HES EXISTEDIN MY BRAIN FOR FIVE SECONDS I LOVE HIM

HIS NAME IS PAPYRUS??? LIKE THE ANCIENT EGYPTIAN SCROLLS? (THE PAPYRUS FONT AND COMIC SANS THATS WHY SANS MAKES JOKES) OHHHH

ketchup???

OH YMG SO THE SUN PERSONS BACK!!! His name is dream ? (Yes his name is dream) funsies🤭✨ (dream and nightmare) omg that makes sense

also i recognize that you’ve told me about them before right? (yes I have) 🤭

second person pov>

the shot of ink blinking at sans and frisk’s convo>>>>

officially frisk is my daughter

ink makes my brain go so vrrbbbbb (Ink makes my brain want to slaughter him /lh) oh damn what does he do😔 ... ACTUALLY don’t tell me i’ll find out<3

NOT THE FALLEN DOWN STOP💔💔💔 (YEAH FALLEN DOWN IS ORIGINALLY FROM UNDERTALE) YEAH I KNEW THAT I SHOULDVE PREPARED MYSELF SKDNDJ

(have you seen the emo yet?) he sounds kinda like a five year old having a tantrum he looks cool though (the golden tooth boi? Yeah thats him) funnnn

oo getting hyped up

omg fight scene? slay

omg x event - no clue what that is but it sounds cool

more soul absorption

i have mixed feelings on that word because as much as it’s cool it reminds me of the word moist

heart ?

he’s got that swagger that only people who talk in comic sans can have

re e e ed re e e ed

“sleeping is more fun than corrupting timelines” sleeping is more fun than a lot of thng - but i feel like corrupting timelines would be fun

is sans gay😨❓

i feel like i’m reading this wrong

manipulate manwhore mansplain

his special attack- he turns into an anime girl with plot armor - oh no he just pulls a rachel dare funsies

he saved the day with the power of bad puns (And a slipper) And a slipper

(Also who tf were you asking who was gay for who) idk who tf he is but he was like “there was this guy” and that was my first thought sjsnskdnsk😭 (WHICH GUY WHATD HE LOOK LIKE???) IDK EVIL??? (WAS HE THE TALL MOTHER FUCKER WITH WEIRD BLACK STRIPEY EYES THAT MET WITH INK? I NEED TO KNOW BECAUSE HE MIGHT BE GAY) -proceeds to investigate who the supposed gay man is- (I WAS RIGHT IT IS THE TALL MOTHER FUCKER WITH WEIRD BLACK STRIPEY EYES) WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? (IM A FFUCKING GENIUS WITH GUESSING THIS SHIT) GOOD OR BAD? (no he's not gay, you'll find more about him later)

god he’s a mood

OO THE ERROR GUY

go girl give us nothing

This is just from the first two episodes, be ready for more

#underverse #undertale au #utmv #ut au #sans au #ink sans #sans undertale #sans the skeleton #geno sans #dust sans #bad sanses #undertale #sans #papyrus #fell sans #uf sans #underswap #underswap sans #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #jael peñaloza #cross sans #killer sans #dreamtale #nightmare sans #xtale cross #xtale au #xtaleunderverse #xtale!gaster #xtale sans

[breezy-cheezy]

Who are Rook and Trey (if you don’t mind my asking)? (Love your art btw)

*Takes a DEEP breath* How much time you got- /half joking

Aight so. Rook Hunt and Trey Clover are two characters from a phone game I've been into recently, Twisted Wonderland. Yes. The. The Disney one. Written and Drawn by Yana Toboso (the artist/writer behind Black Butler. No I'm not kidding.) HEAR ME OUT kjhsdjkgdf

It's one of those gacha/visual novel-like games that gets marketed as like a dating sim, but has some of the most. Un-romantic settings/characters I've EVER seen. As an aro/ace, I applaud this lmao. Also amazing character and story writing like what the heck.

Very....boys will be boys energy but not the mean way, more of a “y’all are so stupid and ridiculous” in a fond way??

Actual answer under read more because I'm insane:

So every character is like. They aren't the Disney characters themselves but more like BASED on them? Sometimes several. I'm making a powerpoint on this to connect all the dots, here's Trey's lmao

Heartslabyul house! Based on: Mad Hatter, 3 of Clubs, King of Hearts, etc. Generally chill. You think he's the normal one, then he turns around and gives you an hour lecture on how to brush your teeth properly. Ok mom.

He also reminds me along of Ignis from Final Fantasy 15. He's. That type. But also not?? Still instant attachment that way LOL

Thing is he's VERY devoted to his childhood friend/Dorm leader, Riddle. But he will never admit this, not even to himself. (due to Trauma and also being totally completely normal. Uh-huh.)

SO IN WE BRING....ROOK HUNT (who is already on that slide HAHA)

Different house (it's a school setting, like Hogwarts but more Themed Houses based around. Different Disney villains) and SO. How do you explain Rook. Well he's based off the Huntsman from Snow White, mainly.

Gives these vibes. Incoming. Smiley. Will give affection. Somewhat of a threat.

Theater kid set loose. French. Loves beauty in all its forms. Drama, sparkles, has SO much love (platonic, I must preface, every time I use that, I mean in an unromantic manner) to give and is VERY vocal about it. Compliments you constantly and finds uplifting things to say even when you did horribly on something. You fell on your face? He will tell you you fell with magnificence or something idk he's just LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME, he means EVERY WORD TOO-

This dude will not lie. His eyes are too good, he is too perceptive. Oh also he hunts some students for sport, there's that little detail (HE NEVER HURTS ANYONE as far as I know he just. Watches. Love this lil weirdo. Some of his lines are "let's play tag!" and I'm like oh NO LMAO) so like I laugh at him but he's also MILDLY TERRIFYING AND CAPABLE LIKE DUDE-

Anyway, TREY you meet early since he's in the first house you deal with, Heartslabyul. But my first exposure to ROOK was through Trey's Lab Card story, which is honestly a fun time on its own. They are science club buddies!!

So right off the bat you have a very :D :D vs calm =w=;;; dynamic, which I love. But then we have....Trey, who denies how much he cares for people, for Riddle. Who shows care through his actions, baking, Due to Reasons, words of affirmation might murder him on the spot. And then we have Rook, who is a font of flowery warm appreciative words who loves and loves loudly, watching this like 👀 I see you. (incoming shots of Halloween Event part 2)

The guy calls him Chevalier des Roses to his face. Constantly. Rook has little nicknames for alot of people (most dorm leaders he calls "King of Roses" (Riddle), "King of Lions" (Leona) etc.) but he calls Trey a Knight. Of Roses. He's calling Trey Riddle's Knight. And it's very cute.

(Halloween event tossed them together and it was WONDERFUL)

But yeah Trey has his own reasons for shying away from the title. He's a baker's boy, he has no sword or armor or anything, also it's embarrassing as heck-

But Rook still sees how he treats people. He calls a knight for what it is. Rook himself ADORES his dorm Leader, Vil, and sees Trey trying to hide this same devotion and just goes "you are like me!!!" Trey: oh please no I could never-

Also they're SUCH. PARENTS.

It's just. A really good dynamic I'd LOVE to see more of, y'know? An understanding, somehow being understood by someone more than you know yourself. Rook is also weird as HECK sometimes (what do you mean you can see how Leona is yawning ALL THE WAY ACCROSS THE FEILD) and Trey nearby is. His friend. He's just like "I'm so sorry he's just like this" and it's VERY funny akjshdjksdhfs he may have to hold Rook back from blowing up the labs again, dude gets carried away.

I do love this very CUTE fan art here.

Twisted Wonderland has some lovely character dynamics. Also no one is "normal", but Rook is just another level of w h a t.

It feels like alot of interactions were just "hm spin a wheel, see who we get, slap them together" and it WORKS. SOMEHOW. Platonic Rook Trey is just one I've become extremely fond of and it's a rarer one....

You probably weren't expecting that much but it was a fun thing to answer. And THANK YOU About the art!! I wish to post more!! After school ends....soon.

#breezy babbles #anonymous #breezy replies #twisted wonderland #twst #analysis #of a sort..... #there are more details I could go into but that's MORE spoilers #rook hunt #trey clover #brotp #idk how to tag these except.....babbies #anyway trey you meet quick he's in the first book/arc #Rook is in pomefiore he's in the 5th book..... #even tho all characters can be seen in personal character stories #and chats and events etc #even the lab one we have rook trey and jade from Octavinelle (book 3) #so literally anything goes #makes hunting (haha) for content rough tho :/ #esp with fandom being....ship saturated in its natural state #also school is beating me up so there's That #final tomorrow I'm procrastinating soooo hard #oops #thanks for asking about the hyper fixation anon #I went for it......ehe #twst halloween #Rook has more character bases but those are....spoiler locked #enjoy the brain rot y'all who are curious I guess #back to animation hell I gooooo

[lightbarebunnies]

Hello hello! I saw that there was one more matchup slot open and was like “hey, don’t mind if I do!”

So… about me. I’m a 19y.o. transmasc person (he/they). I’m a Pisces (cusp Aries) sun, Aquarius moon, and Capricorn rising, my MBTI type is ENTP, and my enneagram type is 8w7. I stand at 160cm (5’3”). I have shoulder length naturally wavy (I straighten it) strawberry blonde hair that I highlight with platinum blonde. I also have hazel eyes, pale skin and freckles.

Generally I dress in a mix of business casual and gothic aesthetics, combining stuff like your typical button-up shirt/dress pants combo with combat boots and long jackets/trenchcoats. Also tying bows around the neckline of collared shirts in the place of a tie, or wearing a bejeweled tie. I’m also quite the fan of blazers haha. In terms of jewelry, I usually wear cuff earrings (my favorite being a silver snake that slithers up my ear), and finger armor style rings, or ones that are designed to bend with your finger. I also do wear makeup, but usually it’s only eyeliner, and then a bit of eyeshadow and some rhinestones near my eyes in a color that matches my outfit.

I’m a sophomore in university, majoring in music with a concentration in vocal performance. I’ve been taking private vocal lessons since I was in elementary school, and music has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I’m also an amateur composer (although my teacher does say I’m a mature writer for my age, which is something I’m definitely proud of, hehe.) I’ve also been an actor since I was small, so I spent a lot of my formative years on a stage, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Although, I will definitely say, growing up in the entertainment industry and around so many people I grew to idolize made me a bit of a perfectionist in regard to my own work. I hold myself and anything that I make to a very high standard, but that’s because I want to see it be what I know it can be. I’m also a bit of a busybody since I’m almost always performing, composing, or working on college work. I do love it, though! Every day I’m always improving my craft, and working closer to finally being the musician I know I can be.

Outside of my professional life, though, I’m much less uptight, especially regarding myself, although music is still my lifeblood. I was on my debate team in high school, too, though. In terms of non-music related hobbies, I enjoy roller skating (I go every week), drawing (markers are my main medium), writing (I’m working on a gothic horror duology, but I also roleplay, literate to advanced lit), playing games (I also play Magic: The Gathering biweekly), dancing, and visiting museums (art exhibits or historical houses, there’s some preserved mansions nearby the theater where I work and perform nearly every day, and they’re my happy place, I go on my birthday nearly every year). I also read tarot, and I have a collection of crystals that grows by the day haha.

Some favorite bands/artists from outside of Ensemble Square would have to be Laufey, Frank Sinatra, Kaya, The Mechanisms, Evanescence, Dreamcatcher and Ali Project.

My love language is primarily compliments and acts of service, especially as I’m growing more comfortable around a person, since it takes me a second to be comfortable with being vulnerable without the safety of the stage lights and a role to feel safe behind. I’m more comfortable with hugs once I know someone well and we’re both clearly comfy with the idea of it. (Also, late night texts, usually driven by creative ideas.)

Hopefully this isn’t too much 😭 I did get a bit carried away, I was like “what else can I say” haha. I’m really curious to see how this goes!

Hi, hi! Your result will be under the read more to maintain the surprise surprise, while my thought process will be displayed below – it is entirely skipable <3

Initial Thoughts: Ah, ENTP… the dream partner MBTI /j I think Pisces-Aries cusps are incredibly interesting given how drastically different the individual signs typically are, but you being an 8w7 matches your sun sign perfectly? I love that for you!

Basically, 8w7 desires freedom and a feeling of self-control, while also not stomping those around them into confirming to them. You would get along best with someone slower paced, to build friendship before you move on to partnership – a sense of trust needs to be built so you can feel secure.

Initial Selection: Rei, Shu, Eichi, and Tatsumi are the four I ended up picking to examine further.

Rei: Old man no.1… He’s definitely the type who needs time to get close to someone before opening up about his true self at all. Rei is an INFJ, which may seem like an opposite to ENTP, but in reality they gel well together because their differences are so complimentary. You’d be able to give Rei new perspectives, while also keeping him from getting to deep into his own head.

Shu: INTJs tend to get along exceptionally well with ENTPs, providing deep and meaningful discussions and generally understanding each other far more than other MBTI types do. As a 1w9, he can relate to being an advocate for others to maintain their individuality and freedom (… I mean, look at how he gets frustrated with Mika for not embracing his own unique sense of creativity) but he also might nag you for not having as much ‘tact’ as he does.

Eichi: Eichi is a Capricorn, which gives him that strong ‘get things done’ work ethic as well as a general sense of passion and tenacity. Pisces-Aries cusp is unique in that it’s basically a more determined version of Pisces. You’re both able to be honest, and Eichi won’t absolutely dominate your personality with his own – while you both have your individual passions, you can appreciate the other’s.

Tatsumi: The layers of Tatsumi Kazehaya are not meant to be pealed back by just anyone, which is why I think the two of you would make a pretty good match. Like Rei and Eichi, he’s an INFJ. The biggest difference between the others is that he’s a type 7, which is your wing. You’re both more cooperative, warm people who are generally pleasant… so forming that initial bond will be easy and eventually you’ll get to a mutual sense of trust and comfort.

With all of that in mind…

I'd match you with Shu!

It’s definitely a slow burn, but once that fire starts it’s going to be impossible to put out. Even if you do something to absolutely infuriate him, he’ll be adamant on letting you know rather than ignore you or brush it off.

Music will definitely be the place your bond begins. He loves your creativity, especially in the various mediums that you enjoy, and the passion you have for music as a whole will spark that initial attraction. When hit with an idea that he can’t quite get out properly, he’s going to want to talk it out with you. Your varying perspectives will be more than enough for him to trust you with having a part in his creative process.

Given your similar need for time to develop a full relationship, things would progress slowly but surely. Museum trips for inspiration slowly start turning into dates, he’ll start to reach for to your hand when in a more populated areas, you might catch him looking at you more than the art.

Once you’re properly together and have established your romantic relationship, Shu is going to want to do more for you. He’ll offer to do your make-up, make you accessories to match a certain outfit you particularly like, and… if you’d let him, he’d certainly want to make some sort of matching attire for the two of you to wear. He’s proud of you, of being yours, and he’d like others to know that much.

#.hyacinth answers #.hyacinth matchmakes #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #enstars #brokenbeing13

[jotun-design-party]

Hey I was wondering, by your example of the harmful design does what if! Loki sort of follow this harmful trope? I know this is based on aos loki but just as an example that kind of thing.

And also I’ve seen a lot of jotnar portrayed with minimal clothing and mostly only armor in like canon media not just fanon and I thought that was purely because they are more immune to the cold and don’t need to try and get warm but I may be mistaken. Are you saying that is also harmful or just if it is sexualized?

These questions are purely just to understand your meaning and not to be critical or anything! Thanks so much! This event looks super fun!

hi, yes! good [timezone.] no worries, i'm very happy to answer questions & please forgive if my syntax is weird today, i have a chronic disability which causes some brain fog during flare-ups so my sentence structure might not be the most elegant. i WAS given a superpower to counter this (a disability which, for our purposes here, i will sum up as "it makes my vocabulary big") but for the sake of clarity i'll be responding with a bit of a shortened version of all of my thoughts so that it makes a little bit more sense. i can go more in-depth at a later time if needed

under the cut, summary:

What If jötnar are not nearly AS bad as a lot of the jötun art i've seen in fanon and canon so it gets a very hesitant green-light from me. and also the issue with putting jötnar in minimal clothes is that artists still tend to choose to dress them in clothing items that are associated with racist and offensive depictions of real-life people

+ some of my personal ideas about what jötnar might wear

the jötnar in What If do rely on some of the same antiblack and anti-american indigenous stereotypes that we see in the comics but their designs aren't NEARLY as caricature-y as the comic book designs are and they do a better job at making it look like something an alien would wear. still bad, but not NEARLY as bad as the comics, i'd give it a very hesitant green light

the main issue with jötnar being depicted in minimal clothing is that oftentimes, the artists choose clothing specifically related to these racist stereotypes to evoke imagery of the Assumed lifestyle of both the jötnar and the real life people who are affected by the stereotypes. this is an obviously satirical example because my brain isn't working well enough to think of a more genuine one, but it wouldn't be a problem if someone drew their jötnar to be running around in heart-print boxers pin-up posing, you know? the issue is largely that people make the choice to draw them in long sheer skirts draped with gold like orientalist stereotypes of women, or in loincloths and furs and bone piercings in their noses.

basically there are all sorts of ways to visually get across their cold immunity, and have them dressed minimally, without putting them in skirts and loincloths and stuff

----- the stuff down here ⬇️ are just my personal thoughts and dont have any bearing on the actual contest, just some of my ideas that you can read for fun if you so desire

and this is definitely more of a personal thing, but i don't Personally think it makes much sense to have jötnar dressed in minimal clothing even if they are immune to the cold. this is just because, snow still melts haha. so i don't think it makes too much logical sense to have them barefoot and without any sort of cloak to protect them from the weather. plus, light reflects off of snow and is known to give people sunburns, ao i like to cover up their skin too <- this however is all optional. it's fiction and it doesn't need to be really very practical it's just the sort of thing i enjoy thinking about so i wanted to share my thoughts

i defo do not have the spoons to bust out a thor mini so you're just going to have to use your imagination but this outfit i drew them in is also like all kinds of impractical for a human or an asgardian to wear in the snow :') i mean can you imagine going out into a blizzard wearing latex and an underboob window? i imagine that thor would be wearing fur-lined leather coats and thick pants and three layers of socks and heavy duty boots next to this bitch ⬇️

this isn't my definitive loki design though. i have a lot of thoughts bumping around in my head and art that i havent posted (and probably won't post) and this ⬆️ was just a quick example i busted out to give a visual difference

#orientalism #fandom culture #jotun loki #jötun loki #jotun design party #jötun loki contest #marvel #Q+A