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#reverbring
newspringhope · 9 months
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Literally Argalia and his ensemble is what if the antagonists also have the power of friendship?
Antagonist groups tend to suffer from infighting and backstabbing but Argalia is so charismatic that he manages to make a bunch of distortions with differing beliefs be able to work together where they even value each other as friends
None of them would try to pull a starscream aka try to usurp and betray Argalia because they're all genuinely loyal to him
It’s so refreshing for an antagonist group that actually gets along together and work to achieve the same goal without the usual issues that’s present in antagonist groups
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chickencat8 · 7 months
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O w O
a neighbor is practicing an instrument...
saxophone?
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thebigqueer · 9 months
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havnet heard of suzanna son until now but her voice is captivating i feel like god is channeling through her
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aero-sense · 1 year
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why was this filmed like some tragic love triangle soap drama
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icyminghao · 10 months
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made with love
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pairing: dad!joshua x fem!reader genre: fluff warning(s): food mentions
requested by @notarshia: Heyy I really like the father's day fic with mingyu I was hoping if you could do a father's day fic with joshua :))) thankyou so much<33
summary: joshua wakes up to quite the commotion, and you’re not by his side.
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A resounding bang that reverbrates through the house and a series of hisses following that is what rudely wakes Joshua from his peaceful slumber.
Groaning, Joshua rolls over and tries to drape his arm over your figure, only to be met with nothing. His eyes shoot open to see your side of the bed empty, and he sighs. Joshua hates waking up without you beside him. Joshua strains to listen for any more sounds outside, and briefly hears his daughters’ harmonious giggles. He sighs again and gets up to investigate the noise, a smile creeping up his face.
“You’re supposed to put the syrup first!” he hears the older twin, Jiyoon, as her loud complaint booms through the kitchen.
“It doesn’t matter! I want to put the blueberries first!” Jihyo whines back with the same energy, and Joshua chuckles, the kitchen now in full view.
In front of him are his two daughters struggling to prepare a plate of what Joshua can only assume to be pancakes from their earlier conversation. Towering behind them is a very amused you, who make no move to quell the possible argument breaking out between your twin daughters.
“It doesn’t matter what you want, stupid! These pancakes are for daddy!” Jiyoon tells her sister off in an annoyed tone, and Joshua can’t help but feel his heart swell at how they’re taking this so seriously.
“Hmph! Do whatever you want, then!” Jihyo huffs and turns around, meeting eyes with her father.
“Daddy!” Jihyo screams, running into her father’s open arms. Joshua grins widely at his daughter, picking her up and spinning her around. “Hey, you.”
Jiyoon notices her father, too, and bolts out of the kitchen to wrap her arms around his leg. “Daddy! You’re supposed to be sleeping…”
“Sorry, sweetheart, Daddy decided to wake up earlier today,” Joshua smiles, picking Jiyoon up with his free arm. “what were you guys making?”
“It’s a surprise,” Jihyo makes a big gesture with her hands, and Joshua beams at her in endearment.
“Daddy, can you go back to sleep? We want to surprise you,” Jiyoon tugs at her father’s shirt, making her best puppy eyes at him.
Joshua chuckles in disbelief and turns to you, who shrugs with the most lovesick expression written on your face.
“Okay, girls, whatever you say,” Joshua sighs, gently putting the girls back down before going back into your shared bedroom, not missing the way his girls scramble into the kitchen to continue preparing the ‘surprise’.
Joshua lies on your side of the bed and starts scrolling through his phone, and the door opens soon after. In pops Jiyoon and Jihyo, both holding a plate of pancakes together. The pancakes in question are look too good to have been made by a pair of four-year-olds, but Joshua pushes the observation to the back of his mind. It’s drizzled with maple syrup and littered with blueberries just how Joshua likes it, and his heart swells with pride.
“Happy fathers’ day, Daddy!” Jihyo and Jiyoon exclaim in unison, presenting the pancakes to Joshua. His expression turns soft at the sight of his two daughter standing in front of him, clearly nervous to see their father’s reaction towards the surprise.
“Thank you, my little princesses, I’ll enjoy the meal well,” Joshua chuckles, patting both of their heads before taking the plate of pancakes from them. The girls squeal in satisfaction at Joshua’s reaction.
“Okay, girls, it’s time for you to take a shower now,” the girls turn around at your familiar voice to see you leaning against the doorframe with the biggest smile on your face, and they scramble out of your bedroom after giving you and Joshua a kiss on the cheek, one twin in charge of one cheek.
“Did they plan this on their own?” Joshua asks as you sit down beside him on the bed, taking in your exhausted features with a slight frown on his face. “What time did you wake up for this? You had a long day at work yesterday,”
You smile softly, tucking Joshua’s hair behind his ear. “It’s okay, I wanted to do it. The girls got the idea from Jeonghan and bugged me to help them with it last night.”
“Jeonghan, huh?” Joshua cocks an eyebrow in amusement, proceeding to dig into the pancakes.
“He’s their favourite uncle, for sure,” you chuckle, “so, are the pancakes good?”
“It’s really good,” Joshua says with food stuffed in his mouth, and it takes you a while to understand what he said. Smiling brightly once you realised what he said, you poke his cheek adoringly.
“Of course, babe,” you pinch his cheek softly, “don’t tell the girls I told you this, but they only decorated the pancake with syrup and blueberries.”
Joshua simply chuckles. “Well, I’m incredibly touched that the women of my life pulled this together for me.”
You beam at him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Happy fathers’ day, baby.”
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a/n: i am aware that fathers’ day is well over but every day is fathers’ day okay
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @belladaises @xomingyu @pepperonidk
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kometqh · 3 months
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𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
501st x F!Jedi!Reader General Skywalker clearly wasn't a reliable source of intell, having pointed you and Rex's squad into the icy tumbra of a long deserted planet, however, it was due to his calculated mistake that the Clones were able to reveal your deeply hidden desires. Being stuck in a cave with numerous handsome, attractive men was not on your to-do list, yet you weren't complaining. Word Count: 3028
Warnings: Unedited, random brain rainbow vomit I had whilst practicing writing techniques <3 It's somewhat (quite) spicy towards the end. There is a lot of fluff throughout most of it! A/N: This is mostly just Tup, Rex and Fives x reader as this was a very spontaneous fic T_T pls forgive me.
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"General Skywalker said this would be an easy mission," Fives hissed under his breath, the deep, reverbrating sound of his voice lost underneath the wolfish howling of the wind, clusters of snow beating at his helmet. This was supposed to be a quick and easy diplomatic trip, but where did he and the 501st Legion find themselves? Somewhere on a deserted, icy, snowy planet. "My toes are about to fall off!"
"Yeah, he promised us there'd be clear blue skies and hot weather. A beach even!" Echo added on, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. Rather than being on a hot, sandy beach, the brothers had found themselves treading through waist-deep snow, their fingers and toes turning into icicles, their blasters heavy in their grasps. 
"I thought this was supposed to be a diplomatic trip, Captain," Fives continued, his voice becoming white noise as Rex all but ignored his brother, gracing him with an occasional hum or grunt, to let him know he was listening. But he wasn't hearing. Rex was also unhappy with the circumstances, but it was his job to do this kind of thing. It's not like the clones could refuse not going on a mission, not going head-first into a battle, so he definitely would have appreciated General Skywalker's honesty, over trickery. 
The weather was only getting worse, the wind and snow beating at the men cruelly, the blue paint on their armour completely disappeared under the clusters of snow that had latched themselves onto the clones. 
He paused in his tracks, scanning the area through his optical goggles. He spotted something. Something dark, something round. His men stopped behind him, eerily silent as they anticipated their Captain's next words. 
Rex, turning to face his brothers, couldn't help the way his shoulders visibly relaxed as he relayed the news, "I see a cave entrance just a couple yards ahead, boys! We will seek shelter there!" He exclaimed, waving his arm, signalling for them to keep going, to keep following him. 
In the very back, just behind Tup and Jesse, a lone, female Jedi guarded their backs, one hand hovering protectively over her weapon, the other shielded away in the pocket of her coat. A backpack hung onto her shoulders, the leather material soaked and cold, receiving most of the onslaught of the weather. 
Her mind was wandering, body craving to feel the heat of a hot sun glazing against her bare skin, just as Anakin had hinted to. But instead, she was stuck walking through a blizzard, her body cold and tired.
She had also been excited to spend some quality time with the boys from the 501st, whom she had been recently often paired with for missions. The sight of them all relaxing and enjoying their time on the beach, with their tops exposed, tan skin glistening under the sunlight.. Yeah, that would have been a sight worth seeing.
A sudden, much harsher gust of wind jolted her from her thoughts, clumps of snow quickly settling against the icy skin on her face. 
Her robes, too, were soaked, struggling to maintain the warmth in her body as she did her best to follow the path created by the clones, snow crunching under her winter boots. 
She too wasn't made aware of the true conditions of the mission. She couldn't tap into the force either, to predict or to feel some kind of warning of the mission ahead. What was Skywalker thinking? He was lucky none of her men had fallen! The moment she'd get back, the moment her eyes would land on him, he would be wise to run for the hills. She could imagine the fear in his eyes as she comically choked him out, swaying the male back and forth in a fit of anger.
Relief flooded the squad as one by one, they made their way into the cave, it being cleared by their Captain and medic, Rex and Kix. 
Quickly setting camp, the clones hovered around their makeshift fire, some huddled close together, others snuggling under individual, soaked blankets. The snow had penetrated all of their supplies; food, water, tents and blankets. All they could do was hope that the fire would last long enough for the storm to pass, for their blankets to dry out and warm up. 
"What the hell was the General thinking?" Fives muttered, his eyebrows furrowed. He rubbed his bare hands together until they were warm enough, and then he shifted closer to the fire. 
His feet stung, the feeling just barely coming back to him after that gruelling tread. He was sure if his feet didn't fall off yet, then something else soon would. 
You exhaled a heavy sigh, a blanket resting over your shoulders as you extended your palms out towards the fire. Rex had been kind enough to lend you his blanket, noticing that your robes and skirt were practically drenched from the weather. Sure, you weren't dressed for the beach, but you also weren't dressed well enough for a blizzard. 
You were lucky to have been warned, or rather told, by Master Kenobi of the true conditions of your mission. If you hadn't been, your troops wouldn't have had enough time to prepare for the weather. 
Looking over your squad, you made eye contact with Tup. A worried frown ghosted over his rough features, the creases that you hated so much appearing on his forehead. 
Slowly, you made your way over to the trooper, one hand outstretched.
"Tup? Are you okay?" You asked, resting your hand over his shoulder. As if startled, the man looked to you, his brows quirked in surprise. 
"G-General? Why do you ask?" He questioned, gaze flickering down to your hand, before coming back up to stare into your eyes. A soft, pink hue dusted over his cheeks, and your heart fluttered at the sight. Sure, he was sweet and kind, he was the shyest of your men. He was almost like a puppy, his chocolatey brown eyes so deep, so sweet, you had lost yourself in them again. 
He was the only man who gazed into your eyes long enough for you to drown, a soft smile erupting on your face as you fought your best to not reach up and caress his cheek in your palm. 
"General? Are you listening?" He asked, his gloved hands reaching up to shake at your shoulders, gently. 
Your lashes fluttered over your eyes, taking in a deep exhale, you shrugged. Were you really okay? 
Taking a moment to respond, your gaze flickered up, noticing how wet his hair was. 
"Tup, d'you want me to dry your hair?" The words tumbled from your mouth before your brain could finish processing their meaning. Tup's eyes widened into saucers as he stood there, frozen. You had never been so caring to your men, at least, not like this. 
Remember that pink hue that dusted his cheeks just a moment ago? Yeah, now that's turned into a beetroot blush, the colour painting his ears, his face and neck in a deep shade of reddish-purple. Would it be okay for you to display such blatant acts of affection? Wouldn't that be against the rules and regulations of the Jedi council? Against the regulations of the GAR? If so, would his brothers snitch?
"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-" You started, your mouth quickly dropping into the shape of an 'o' as Tup interrupted you.
"General, I would love for you to dry my hair." He said with a soft smile, scratching at the back of his nape.
Realising it was too late now to back out, you gave a small nod of your head before taking his gloved hand in yours, the leathery material scraping nicely against your soft skin, as you led him closer to the campfire. 
Motioning for Tup to sit down, you stood directly behind, and, above him, reaching to remove your dry blanket from your shoulders. You didn't have a towel, so a blanket should be a good enough substitute. Your hands reached to remove his hairtie, sliding it over your hand to rest on your wrist, your fingers quickly making their way to masssage Tup's scalp. 
As he leaned his head back into your soft hold, Tup couldn't help the relieved sigh that escaped his lips. Your fingernails grazed softly against his skin, tugging gently at his soft curls, sending eletric shivers down the male's spine. 
But it was when your hands slid from his scalp, over to his nape and shoulders, applying soft but firm pressure against his tired muscles that the involuntary groan escaped his lips, rumbling deep from within his chest. 
Your body stiffened, stopping your ministrations as a familiar spark shot through your heart, right down to your abdomen. 
Your eyes, wide and unblinking, stared into Tup's as the colour red flushed his cheeks once more. His eyes searched yours, a worried glint dancing across as he waited for your reaction. His lips stuttered as he was about to apologise, provide an excuse, tell you it was okay if you didn't want to continue. 
But the words fell short on his tongue as the corners of your lips tugged upwards, your hands applying the slightest bit more pressure to his sore muscles. 
A grunt was stiffled in his throat, his eye fighting hard to stay open, looking anywhere but at your face. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, give you the wrong idea-
None of his brothers did. 
Though a lump formed in his throat as Tup looked around the cave, noticing the numerous lingering gazes of his brothers as they sat there, watching your movements. He could almost feel the jealousy vibrating off of Rex in waves, his gaze hardened as the corners of his lips fought to stay straight. 
A smirk tugged at Tup's lips, as he noticed Jesse squint his eyes at him. Deciding to add fuel to the fire, Tup groaned again when your hands pressed against a particularly tense muscle in his shoulder. 
"Woah, General, where did you learn this?" He asked, a familiar warmth blooming in his abdomen as your nimble fingers danced across his shoulders, tugging at the black suit he wore, exposed now as his armour rested beside a sleeping bag nearby. 
"Oh, you know, just learned bits here and there when I was stationed with Commander Wolffe," You chuckled, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue, "That man was full of knots in his shoulders." You added, feeling Tup's shoulders relax more and more, until you had mentioned Wolffe. That's when his posture straightened, from a relaxed lean, to a pin-straight sitting up position. 
He tilted his head back to look at you, a curious yet worried glint in his golden eyes.
"Were you and Commander Wolffe close, by any chance?" He questioned, his breathing paused. 
If you were Wolffe's girl, then he knew the 501st couldn't, wouldn't pursue you. 
Or, if you weren't, then they knew at least they could ask the Commander of his previous.. Experiences, with you. 
Slowly, you caught onto Tup's drift, and your gaze travelled around the room. Some of the men were fully facing the two of you, legs spread, eyes laser-focused as they listened to your conversation, the cave suddenly, and eerily silent.
A shiver travelled down your spine, and a gentle smirk tugged at your lips.
"Oh, just you know, the occasional date here and there.." You said, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. Your smirk threatened to grow as you heard someone scoff, and you looked up to see Rex rolling his shoulders, a scowl on his face.
"Date? Isn't that, like, forbidden?" Fives questioned across from you, leaning over curiously, his eyebrows raised, resembling the blue markings on his helmet. 
A giggle escaped your lips as your hands returned to Tup's hair, suddenly remembering why you were giving him a random shoulder massage. You reached over to grab the blanket Rex had given you, placing soft curls between the two valleys of softness created by your hands, which were hidden underneath the soft cushion.
Your hands brushed through Tup's soft hair, gently dragging the strands through the dry, fuzzy material of your blanket. 
"I don't mean a romantic date, Fives, though I wouldn't be opposed to one." You mused, softly tugging at the locks. "I don't particulaly agree with the 'No Attachments' rule. But that doesn't make me less of a Jedi, or does it, do you think?" You questioned, your gaze softening, a small scowl now tugging at your lips. 
"Of course not, General," This time, it was Rex who spoke up, albeit too fast for his liking, "You're one of the most dedicated Jedi I've had the pleasure of working with," He stated, soft footsteps making their way closer and closer to you, "Plus, it is human to wish to form attachments." He whispered that last part, now standing directly above you as you twisted Tup's hair into the towel.
Your heart fluttered at the proximity, warmth enveloping your pinkening cheeks.
"Is it now, Rex?" You asked, looking up at him. Your heart palpitated at the close proximity, your hands gliding down to caress Tup's shoulders. Your gaze stayed unwavering, unbreaking as you looked into Rex's deep, honey-gold eyes. The Captain suddenly shifted, breaking eye contact as he stepped back a little. 
"I-I believe any of us s-should be able to form attachments," He paused, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips, and back to your eyes, "Romantic ones, especially." A chorus of 'Yeah's' and humms of agreement followed, catching your attention as you looked around.
The atmosphere in the cave seemed to have completely shifted, the sound of howling wind drowned out underneath the loud beat of your heart. You swallowed a forming lump, looking between Rex and his brothers, Tup now stood by your side, sandwiching your body between his and Rex's. 
Gloved hands came up to softly caress your shoulders, fingertips lightly tugging at the edge of your collar, grazing the skin underneath. 
"What do you think, Commander?" He whispered into your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin.
"Of?" You prompted, turning your head lightly to look at Tup. 
"Of close relations between Jedi and their Clones?"
Your eyes widened, feeling a familiar heat rush over your body, and you took inhaled a slow, deep, shaky breath. As you looked between Tup and Rex, the latter had made his way closer to your body, his hands making their way to your hips.
The sound of soft footsteps reached your ears, and you saw Echo, Fives, Jesse, Kix, Dogma and Hardcase making their way closer to the three of you, looking completely entranced by the conversation. You hadn't casted any spells on them, have you?
Your breath hitched in your throat, shivers overtaking your body as someone nuzzled their nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, exhaling with a shaky sigh. As they spoke, your heart fluttered with recognition. 
"General, answer the question." Fives whispered, his voice gravelly and deep, one gloved hand gently grasping your chin, twisting it to face him. His gaze flickered to your lips,  just mere inches from his own. He could almost feel the taste of you on his tongue. Oh how he wished to kiss you, right then and there. He was so sure you'd let him, too.
Sure, maybe you did fantasise about the men from time to time, when your thoughts weren't preoccupied by ongoing battles and Jedi duties. How you wished to be allowed to form a connection deeper than General and Trooper, but did they?
"I- I.. I don't k-know?" You questioned, a soft whimper escaping your opened mouth, before you knew it, his lips crashed against yours, his hands latching themselves into your hair, pulling you closer, if physically possible.
The kiss was, to simply put it, sweet. His goatee rubbed nicely against your chin, his lips melting together with yours, as if they were always meant to. His tongue prodded at your bottom lip, asking for permission. Slipping in, it danced with yours, hot breaths mingling together as you felt something press up against your front.
Rex.
You had almost forgotten you were trapped between Rex and Tup, too engulfed with the sudden kiss Fives had engaged you in.
The smell of pine and smoke invaded your nostrils, their scents overwhelming, flooding your senses as Fives became rougher, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair. With one hand, you grasped the side of his face, thumb rubbing soothing circles into his rough skin, your breath hitched as a groan escaped his lips.
"Okay, that's enough I think." Kix spoke, the kiss abruptly interrupted as he pulled Fives away by the scruff of his neck. 
"General? Are you okay?" Rex's voice was soft as he neared you, his breath fanning over the sensitive shell of your ear. 
Inhaling a shallow breath, you grasped his biceps with both hands.
"Call me Y/n.." You whispered, hazily meeting Rex's stare, his eyebrows raised, eyes wide.
"R-Right.. Y/n, d'you want us to continue?" He questioned, bringing a hand to gently clutch your chin. 
Your eyes widened as you took in the situation around you; eight men surrounded you, watching. Waiting. Ready to pounce, the moment they received your permission. 
And receive it, they did.
With a brisk nod, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as Rex closed the gap between the two of you, his lips rough but warm as his body pushed roughly against yours, your back meeting Tup's chest in a close embrace. 
Your hands rested against Rex's chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt underneath your thumbs. His chest was warm and firm under your touch, the feeling of his heart racing beneath your hand had your own chest swelling with joy. A sigh left your lips as you felt a pair of lips press open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of your neck, a new pair of hands rubbing up and down your hips, encouraging you.
You weren't dreaming, were you? You weren't about to wake up, were you?
Your questions were answered as you felt Rex bite your bottom lip, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair.
No, this definitely wasn't a dream.
And if it was, it wasn't one you wished to wake from.
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dawnoftime22 · 4 months
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coughing fit.
| T.S
Warnings: being sick, sore throat, medicine, hesitating to eat medicine
Summary: Waking up in the middle of the night with a coughing fit isn't always fun, but when you realise you have Taylor beside you, it turns out to not be awful.
Word Count: 1k
Category: Fluff!
A/N: sorry if it doesn't really make sense? but I tried my best. oh! and if anyone else is sick, I suggest hot lemonade <3
| Started on 30/10/2023, 5:53 AM |
| Finished on 30/12/2023, 12:07 PM |
Masterlist | T.S Masterlist
“I'll be here, no matter what.”
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|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|
Somewhere in the middle of the night, you wake up with a coughing fit, making Taylor wake up from her sleep.
She turns to check on you, and sees your shaking body from the coughs reverbrating through your bones. She moves closer and her hand goes to pat your back in reassurance while her face grew with concern. Even though her mind was filled with sleep, she's trying to keep it awake and all focused on you.
Taylor sits up a bit more, her eyes fully open now. She frowns when she kept hearing you cough, it not ending, it seems.
She rubs her hand on your back instead, her other one going off to grab the cup of water on the bedside table prepared last night.
She waited until you calmed down slightly and then put the glass in your hands. You sip it at first, then drink more. Feeling the need to cough once more though, had made you pull the glass away, careful not to let the water spill out from your shaking of coughs.
"Slowly, baby." She worriedly places her hand on your back again, her other one going to hold your drink. Your coughs seemingly slowing down to a stop. Or at least, for about fifteen seconds.
"Are you okay?" She asks, her hand on your back moving up to tuck a strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear. You didn't answer her yet, until you took a deep breath in and let out, and yet another cough came out.
You sigh and let your shoulders drop in defeat, leaning to lay tiredly against her chest. Her heart ached at the sight of seeing you so vulnerable.
"Shh..." She runs her fingers along your hair, soothing you while you tried to breathe through the coughs. She held you gently, her chest rising and falling in sync with yours. "It's okay. Just take deep breaths and let it pass."
A few seconds go by without one, until that awful sound of a cough came back. Her mind searched for something that could help you. She could hold you all the way through, but that would be painfully slow when she knows there could be something to relieve you. With it being the middle of the night, her brain was a little slow, but then she remembered.
"Oh, baby, you need medicine." Her voice was soft, and full of concern. She felt the vibrations of your coughs going through your whole body on her chest.
"Stay here, okay?" Taylor was about to get out of bed, but not before an inch that she'd move, you had tightened your grip on her gently, a clear sign that you didn't want her to go.
"It will only be for a second, I swear." She assures you, causing to loosen your hold on her slightly. She gently picks up your hands and puts it down in your lap while you pouted adorably. She pouted back just as adorably, her heart melting for you.
She got out of the bed and walked out of the room, leaving you alone. After just a few seconds though, she got back with medicine in her hand and two mugs in the other.
"Okay, here. You'll feel better when you take it." You grimaced at even the thought of swallowing the medicine or even looking at it, but when Taylor raised her eyebrows, you knew there was no getting out of it. And, you would only cough even more if you didn't take it.
The blonde sat back down next to you and prepared the necessities, such as opening the lid, making sure the cup of water was near in case you needed it, and that she had a spoon.
She poured the liquid onto a spoon, careful not to let it drip down. Hovering the filled spoon over her open palm, she waits for you to open your mouth.
You hesitate, but manage to open your mouth, and surprisingly, you haven't coughed in a bit, but that might be your nervousness showing.
Taylor puts the spoon in your mouth and you keep it for a few seconds before swallowing easily going down your throat. You reached out your hands towards the glass of water, and she gave it to you, wanting to wash down the bitter taste.
"Now if we get some sleep, I'm sure you'll be better in no time." She says, giving you a soft smile as she heard no cough anymore. Or, right now, anyway.
"I got you some hot lemonade too, if you really need it." She points at the bedside table behind her, leaning to the side to reveal the glass filled with the warm beverage. You smile at her thoughtful gesture.
"Th-" You cough once more, covering it up in your arm so the germs don't go anywhere but there.
"Thank you...--" She puts her single finger on your lips gently, looking at you softly and shushing you. A smile grew on both of your faces at the interruption, your heart warming at how gentle she was with you.
"Don't talk darling, you'll cough more." She grabs the mugs, one for her and you. Even though she didn't really need it, nothing could go wrong with that. It's always lovely to have hot liquid running down your throat, especially at a time like this.
You take the mug she offers you, and take a sip of it after blowing on it for a few seconds. The lemonade traveling from your tongue down to your throat, soothing everything in its path.
A few minutes pass with a little more quietness, and she was glad it managed to help your throat calm down on you. As your cup started to empty out, and your eyes started to get heavy, supposedly from the warmth, too, you hand her back your mug, to which she places back on the bedside table.
Leaning back against her body, you close your eyes, with her holding you safely and the dose of medicine would be putting you back to sleep quicker than usual. She stays awake for a while more to make sure you've really fallen asleep, taking sips of her own warm lemonade as her other hand gently goes through your hair.
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darlingofvalyria · 6 months
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❝I have these two great friends called Birth and Control.❞
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part 06 | it's called a love bug, lovebug
chapter summary:
[ Sunday dinners are actually made for confessions. As Alicent braves it with a wine and a blush, you brave it too. With a boy and a view. ]
[ 2,963 ] [ series masterlist ] |best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,
contains— angst - hurt/minimal comfort(?) - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.
a/n— alexa play it's all coming back to me now by celine dion. it might read a little stilted, i struggled a bit with this chapter as i wrote it in different times. ps. i didn't translate aemond's valyrian with intention. hope it still works? comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡
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You had never heard of a more reverbrating sound than Helaena's smack to a poor, traumatised Daeron. "You toe licking, armpit looking, ugly garbage can!" Healeana shrieked, promptly dragging her youngest brother further away as you and Aemond scurried deeper into the safety of the darkness and shame, folded defensively onto one another, laughing your asses off.
"Oh my god," you exhale. "I am never going leaving this maze. I am going to live here, eating brambles and shit, and die here. Leave me now and prevail, Aemond. I will be fine. I'll haunt you in two to three business days."
Aemond chuckles from below you, unseen from your gaze, the mesmerised adoration he held as he can still feel his lips tingling from your desperation, still feel the curves of your body, the soft skin— he clears his throat, holding you steady by your hips before moving around until he's hovering over you as you adjusted your dress, eyes fluttering his with pressed lips trying not to laugh.
"I have a feeling dinner is ready."
"I also have a feeling your mother and grandfather knew exactly what we were doing minutes before and I fear I'd rather die here than face that."
He laughs, offering his hand and you take it regardless. "Then my mother would be glad. She didn't exactly feel the new bliss of couples between us."
You scoff. "Only because you treated me like you were cosplaying a Frost Giant." At his raised eyebrow and choked, surprised laugh, you blush. "Oh, get off with it. Your sister really likes the idea of Jotun!Loki and I am not one to kinkshame."
He strangles a laugh, peeling stray twigs from your hair. "I wouldn't dare assume. Let's go eat."
You tighten your hold on his hand, worry crescent on your forehead that Aemond straightens. "And talk?" As good as that felt, as perfect as puzzles sliding in together, you were past the age where burrowing it deep with the good parts and ignoring the pressing talks that need to be addressed.
And Aemond deserved better than that at least.
"Okay." He nods, swallowing. "Later, please."
"Okay." You try and reassure him with a smile and that seems to appease him, if a little.
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Once Aegon had made five jokes concerning Daeron's loud rant— he was promptly shut up by his sister smacking him in the back of the head as soon as their mother was fretting in the kitchen and their grandfather's phone pinging for his attention, spoon on his mouth that might have been a medical nightmare — dinner went smoothly.
Daeron had successfully refused to look at your general direction, or his brother, or both since you sat together, churlish in giggles, in chatter and light arguments. Aemond kept taking the nicely marinated baby potatoes on his plate to yours once you finished up your own, and exchanged it with shuffling green beans to his plate because he loves them— it's nice.
It's more than nice. It's everything you could hope for when you think about dinner with your boyfriend's family. It's a softened thought that brews to yearning. You want this. You want be sat next to Aemond like this again, making jokes, piling food onto each other's plate, ribbing with his brother until he blushed then standing up against him when it got too far— seeing the smile he sends your way, endearing, loving, and for a moment, for this one realised moment built on lies and chuckle-fuckery ease, you let yourself indulge.
You joke about spoon feeding him dessert and blush as he envelops his soft lips over the spoon, Daeron and Aegon mimicking gags while Alicent is blushing, unable to stop a girlish giggle, a sound so surprised to her own person that she hiccups.
You are with him and you give yourself strength to break his heart.
Dinner finishes off with a lazy flick, Alicent and his father descending into business talks that usually included Aemond and though you tell him you can go hang out with Helaena— Daeron and Aegon deciding on playing The Last of Us in the game room because Aegon said he needed a good cry but also to shoot things — Aemond who had taken your hand sometime ago and has been brushing his thumb over your knuckles in a soothing gesture, implores you with a look.
You swallow and give a nod, trying for another smile that fails, noticing the moment Aemond sees it fail, his brow curling, lips pursing but doesn't say anything.
As he moves to lead, he pauses, turning back to you. "Where—?"
"Your room?"
Just as he nods, Alicent's soft and embarrassed, "Keep the door open, please," pulls you both to a blushing stop.
Otto— and Helaena rifling through ice cream in the kitchen — crow simultaneous, "Alicent," and "Mom!" as Alicent raises both her hands, the wine in her right sloshing. Though she is pink-cheeked, she maintains eye contact with her son while Aemond is struggling.
"I know you're old and smart enough, young man, and you are such a lovely girl," Alicent says to you, "and I would no doubt adore the grandchildren you will provide me—"
"Oh my gods," you stifle your giggles as Aemond makes a discordant sound in the back of his throat, like a cat hacking a saw. Otto is laughing into his wine while Helaena is making gagging noises in the background.
"— but I hope to have them when Aemond's at least graduated, so that he can provide well for you." Alicent nods, blinking. You can tell that the wine is catching up to her. "He's a good boy so I'm sure he'll do right by you. But I at least want you both to be married, of course, I would prefer if Aegon or Helaena got married first but—"
"— and that's my cue to stage left, folks," Helaena says, making a face as she grabs the entire tub of cookies and cream. "If anyone needs me, I'm in my room trying to find a husband so my baby brother can get married, gods forbid he carries on with bastards from his beautiful girlfriend— whomst, by the way, is my best friend, dunno how we're forgetting my credit in all of this."
Aemond shakes his head. "They're not sleeping here, mom, and providing you grandchildren is not in my agenda." He tugs your hand, smirking as he pulls you close only to whisper playfully, "Not tonight at least."
You shiver, laughing under your breath. "I dunno if you know this, but I have these two great friends called Birth and Control."
He breaks into a laugh and that, at least, eases the tension until you round up in his room, trying to give Helaena a meaningful look but you don't think she understands it with how she salutes you with her spoon, winking audaciously.
"Here." Aemond flicks the light on and his childhood bedroom brings a smile to your face. It's cerebral, the faint blue of his textured wallpaper, the perfectly lined books, even the framed achievements. But there's also the Oasis poster, the little figurines that you know is part of some Old Valyrian battle replica he collected when he was younger, even his old fencing gear and an exact photo of it alongside his club master, his grandfather, and family friend, Criston Cole.
"It's been a while since I've been here," you tease lightly. "It's kind of funny of your mom to think I'd be the first hot girl to christen your childhood bed."
He hums, turning away as he closes the door. When he turns back, he's rolled back his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks at you with sincerity.
"It wouldn't be much of a competition to beat. You were the first hot girl I'd ever got inside my room."
"Ahh. Right. Teasing you before your growth spurt was the highlight of my week."
Aemond let out an aggressive sigh as you laugh. "I was a senior in high school when I met you, riña, this is getting ridiculous. Borderline paedophilic since I had you moaning an hour ago."
You heave, slapping his arm. "Okay, stop, you made it weird now. Gross. Eugh."
"Promise you'll stop now?"
"Fine, I promise."
An awkwardness settles before Aemond nods at the double French doors. "Wanna talk on the patio? You've always liked my room's view than Lae's."
"Yeah," you grin.  "'Cos you got the only view of the lake."
"You can barely see it with the trees. And this darkness." Reason out all he wants, but he opens the door for you, and the cool air is crisp and nice against your warm skin.
You hold out on the ledge, squinting your eyes so you can see peeks of luminous bounce of the calm lake between dark sways of forest. Once in a while, it glitters and glimmers, making itself known.
"It isn't fully true though."
"What is?" Aemond fixes his elbows, warmth pressed against yours as he stares at a fixed point of nowhere. But you can feel his tension, feel his questions he's trying to be patient to keep in. You're glad for it. Grateful. Because it gives you enough courage to confess.
"I hung out in your room because I liked hanging out with you," you admit. "Teasing you was the highlight of my day."
"Gee. Thanks."
"I was more surprised you kept letting me hang out with you when I did nothing but annoy you."
"Why do you think that is, ñuha riña?" he asks softly.
"Because you're sweet?"
The way he's looking at you... it makes you breatheless. Especially when he moves to turn fully toward you, taking you by your elbows, and you close your eyes when he leans in expecting his mouth on you, your heart dancing in the palm of his hand because it feels so, so easy to trust Aemond with it, instead he presses his lips underneath your eye, nuzzling against your nose. It shatters and remakes your heart, making you hold onto his shirt for some semblance of comfort.
"Because I've always liked you," he whispers against your skin as if it's his best kept secret. "Because I'm weak when it comes to you. Because you," he breathes against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a tug, "make it easy to want you."
A weak laugh escapes your lips and his mouth follows the sound as if he wants to swallow it, but you press a palm to his chest. He growls.
"Easy there, tiger, that didn't sound much like a compliment."
He pulls back, holding your face. "Sorry, shit, I didn't mean— I'm not good at this. I meant... you're unattainable. Not just as Helaena's best friend but... you're cool, you're fucking gorgeous and incredibly hilarious."
"Ñuha jorrāelagon." He breathes care into the word. The word is lost on me and I force my brain to pocket it like a love letter so I can search it up. "I never thought I could be here, touching you like this." Without warning, he moulds his lips to yours in a harsh, deep kiss. It's quick but it leaves you breathless, his voice coming up ragged. "Kiss you like this. It feels like I'm in a dream and I'm struggling to let go of it. So a while ago... after..."
You nod, pressing your forehead against his, unable to look at him in the eye. You focus on touching him, your hands sliding down, making him shiver when you go underneath his shirt, skating his side until you warm your cool fingers with his spine.
"That's the thing, Aemy," you whisper. "In your head, by your words, I'm always a version to you."
 He calls your name, leaning back and you're forced to see the confusion on his face.
"Helaena's best friend. Past that, an unattainable crush. Now a fake girlfriend. Someone you use to get Alys' attention, and who better than the unattainable crush? It's a pedestal, Aemy."
"It's not like that, that was a bad, convoluted—"
"But it's the truth, it's how I feel. And though that sucks, I understand." You take his hands as you step back and he's frowning harder, the lines deepen and his jaw is tight. "I knew what I was getting into, you know? But things change because I've changed."
 "It's Cregan, isn't it?" he snarls, tugging his hands away.
"Oh, you jealous idiot, it's you! We've gone over this, you incredible dumbass!"
"Me? How the hell is this about—"
"— because I love you!" you shout. Then stop, inhale. Blink. Aemond copies it. It's almost hilarious. "Or I know I can be."
He works his jaw, turning away. "I don't understand."
"Okay, here it is." You inhale. "Just listen and breathe for a second, okay? Okay? Don't turn away from me." You pull him back by his chin, smiling faintly at the pout you form. "Say you understand."
He sighs, taking your hand. "Yes, I understand."
"I can't compete with someone you've loved for so long," you start softly, staring at your conjoined hands wondering if this is the last time you'll get to hold him like this. "Without you showing you can love me for more than that. I can't compete with your own ideal happy ending if I'm not part of it. I won't. I refuse." Your smile is wry, it's heartbreak and it's strings. You wish you had the energy to scream, to act like a brat and demand his heart, his promises in gold-ink and pink-veined hue. It's what your heart wants.
But you're of big age. You've seen love in its spaces, how it takes root in people, how it affects the world around you.
And you know you cannot love him if he does not make the effort to love you in the same way.
Your heart is in your throat but the words come out anyway. "Because I love you, Aemy. And I know I can fight for you. I can fight for what we have. I can wake up tomorrow and choose to love you with the same degree, if not fiercer, if I could. And I could do that again and again. That's how love works. You have to wake up tomorrow, see me, and choose to love me all over again."
You smile gently, sadly. "I can't allow myself to be loved in halves. I've done that before, I'm not doing it again. Not even for you."
You bring yourself on your tip toes— damn tall, beautiful rat bastard — and brush your lips on the corner of his. His eye closed. "I'm not going to pressure you for an answer. Alys was... Alys is a big part of what you know is love, and I respect that. I understand that it'll be hard, but I need to know if you're willing to let go of it for me. Because I can promise you I can love you. But I won't. Not without assurance that you can try for me."
"What are you asking me?" he asks softly, straightening. There's a hard line going into his body, like a dutiful student given an assignment.
"I'm asking you to think if you can see past the little statue you've made of me. See me breathing. Alive, just like this." You press a hand to his face and retrieve it back before he can hold it. He shots you a look of betrayal. "I'm going home with Hel. You know how to message me, okay? Bye, dōna zaldrīzes."sweet dragon.
His eye flick upward, shock and heartbreak and confusion moulds and twists into such a beautiful blue, mouth agape trying to find words he can't find— and you smile wryly, turning away and leaving.
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You get to Helaena's door quick, knocking soon after.
"Hmph!"
 "You're either getting choked by a robber or masturbating, and really Hel, I need you to make two grunts to tell me the former so I can bust down the door because I don't want to see you bust a—"
The door swings wide, Helaena's face in a comical irritation.
"That is so fucked up, I hope you know— hey, hey." Her irritation sweeps into a frown as you fail to contain your watery eyes. "What happened? What's wrong? What did Aemond do? Oh, that little twerp—"
"— it's not him, it's not him, chill, I just wanna go home, yeah? Get our cakes and go, please?"
Hel's frown deepens, eyes darting back to Aemond's door.
"Please, Helaena," you beg. "I'll tell you when we get home. I'll make us special drinks."
She takes your hand, determination wound tight with concern. "Sure thing, babe. Let's go."
When you make your hasty departure to her grandfather of all of them, Alicent already in bed and the other boys still in the gaming room, cakes in hand, you tow over Helaena's baby blue buggy— she leans over at you with a hand on the ignition, whispering as if she was afraid, "You— are you meeting Cregan tonight? After, I mean." Her eyes widen. "I'm not judging, I'd never—"
"No, no, I understand. You'd never judge me for that, I know. But no. Just you and me tonight."
She smiles softly. It's not like Aemond's but they don't look that apart that it still stings. "Love you."
"Love you too, lovebug."
Loving Helaena isn't hard.
Just as you know loving Aemond wouldn't be, despite it all. But it isn't you that has issues that needs handling, and you've put everything in his court now.
And yet you can't deny your hope.
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kisscara · 1 year
Text
O1: live performance! [fanboy!scaramouche x drummer!reader] ⎯⎯ heartbeat rhythm series
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your eyes sparkle with excitement as you peer through the curtains. "there's so many people," you murmur. hu tao's chin rests atop your head to join you in viewing the large audience. "it is going to be our last live performance before we go on hiatus." hu tao cheekily grins, "i'm super pumped though! look at that crowd!"
ayaka is beneath you, crouching down to take a peek as well. she squeaks, "there really are a lot of people..." you smile, "no worries, aya. you always deliver with your amazing keyboard playing!" yanfei double checks the states of the instruments and turns to face her head to you three.
"get over here, the curtains will go up soon." yanfei stands up from where she was previously bending down to adjust the position of the guitar amps, "good luck, 5O5. everything is good to go." hu tao slings her guitar around her neck and yoimiya does the same with her bass.
yoimiya squeals with pure delight, "the audience is so loud, my heart is pounding even faster!" hu tao darkly jokes, "don't die on us before we perform." yanfei gives an enthusiastic thumbs-up before heading backstage. shortly after, does yun jin step onto the stage with a calm smile. "ready, everyone? let's do our best!"
ayaka nods her head, though hesitantly. she's always a little nervous before live concerts. you sit onto your drum throne and pout, "i'll miss my beloved..." but you have no more time to dwell about 5O5's hiatus, because the next thing you know, the curtain rises.
the familiar voice of your band's manager, madam faruzan, reverbrates through the room on a microphone. "please give it up for hit band, 5O5, as they perform their final live before going on a short break." cheering and clapping ring in your ears and yun jin begins to speak into her mic.
"thank you all for coming! we won't disappoint as we will be performing our unreleased album, blooming symphony."
"eh? i'm not even into bands," mona mumbles, sitting in front of the television set in the bedroom she shares with her twin brother and younger sister. as she's about to switch the channel, scaramouche instantly lunges for the remote, causing the two of them to tumble across the floor.
mona sat up, clearly angry. "what the hell, kunikuzushi!?" the complaints of his twin went into one ear and out the other as he stares at the screen, absolutely tranced. scaramouche grabs onto mona's sleeve, "drive me there!" she scoffs in return, ripping away from his grip.
"no way, where and why?" mona stands up and places her hands on her hips. scaramouche grits his teeth in frustration, "because (name)'s going to be performing at teyvatmusic live house!" she sighs and turns off the tv despite his protests. "no. i was planning on saving up my gas to drive us to school tomorrow."
scaramouche groans and grips fistfuls of his hair, "fuck the school! just take me there, please! you know very well that i don't plead so often; i'll do anything!" mona put a finger to her chin, "anything? even if i ask you to let me tell all of my friends that you have a crush on (name)?"
scaramouche rapidly nods his head, "yeah, whatever! i'll deny it anyways so just please, take me there now or i'll miss it!" mona rolls her eyes with a satisfied hum, "alright. wait for me in the car, i'm just going to put on a coat of lipgloss."
scaramouche runs out the room, shouting, "you better not take long or i'll run to the live house myself!" ei pops her head out from the kitchen. "what live house?" she asks, watching scaramouche put on his shoes in a frenzied matter.
"nothing ⎯ it's nothing." scaramouche was about to open the front door until ei defensively stood in front of it with her arms out wide. he deadpans, "mom. what are you doing?" ei waves her spatula at him, "it's a school night, young man. you're not supposed to be out and about after eight, remember?"
she frowns when he begins arguing with her. "mom, i'm not going to take too long! i'm just going to do an errand real quick!" scaramouche uncharacteristically clasps his hands together during his explanation. ei exhales through her nose, "... fine. but no later than nine, do you hear me?"
scaramouche nods and rushes into the living room to ruffle fischl's head of fluffy blonde hair, "i'll see you nerds later." bennett eagerly waves, "buh-bye, fischl's brother!" razor throws paper money onto the table, "go fish." bennett sweatdrops, "razor, we're playing monopoly..."
"farewell, dear siblings!" fischl yells as scaramouche and mona rush out the front door. she turns back to the two boys. "bennett, something has peaked my interest. let us indulge in a fine game of go fish!" she announces, sweeping the table clean of their board game with her arm.
ei chuckles, "i think that's enough, honey. bennett's father is here to pick them up."
scaramouche kept on bouncing in his seat the whole car ride that mona had to smack him in the back of the head, which resulted in him threatening to bite off her nails that she just painted. and the second mona pulls into the driveway, scaramouche gets out of the car and practically runs into the live house.
mona speed walks after him, "wait up, you little bastard! i'm wearing heels!" she yelps in surprise when she enters the room scaramouche went into. mona pushes and shoves past people to get to her brother. "archons, it's overflowing in here! much too loud for my taste..." she huffs.
scaramouche is on his tippy toes, indigo eyes closing in on you. you're smiling the whole time and your pretty hands are holding your drumsticks with such passion as you drum to your heart's content. he puts both his hands on his mouth, making an audible squeak. mona smirks, "gosh, you're hopeless."
she takes out her phone and records the performance because she knows very well that the second scaramouche watches your drumming, he won't even bother to save the memory in his camera roll, so mona does it herself since he ends up hating himself for it later.
as the concert goes deeper into the night, people begin to leave, but scaramouche stayed. he always stays until the end. his forehead is covered in a sheet of sweat as you play your drum solo, marking the end of the performance. and mona, much like scaramouche, is left speechless.
a final round of applause goes on for the five band members. yun jin takes a bow, "thank you for listening!" mona looks at her phone and hits the red button, ending the video. "oh, this would look so good on my twitter!" she comments. scaramouche leaves the room without a warning, catching mona off guard as she runs after him.
"what's your deal?" she teases and nudges his arm with her elbow. scaramouche shoves his hands down the pockets of his sweater. "they could have seen me," he throws his head back and mutters, "i should have brought a mask so i could have at least gone to their fan meet."
mona knits her brows together, "seriously? ugh, you're such a wuss. no wonder they don't talk to you when they don't even know you're like, their fanboy?" she opens her makeup compact and double checks her face. scaramouche grumbles, "because it's embarrassing; we're in the same class!"
mona taunts him in a lilting tone, "i'm telling you, someone's going to snatch them up before you. they are famous, after all." scaramouche begins to space out. someone else, admiring you? no, there's no way! he's been your number one admirer ever since you first debuted, hell, before you even began playing in a band!
but of course, it's useless, isn't it? you don't even know him as your fan but rather the cold and mean student council president. oh dear, these times require a very tall and annoying ginger to talk to!
tags: @mariusvonhangme @scaramoo @mikismusings @rizakari @akagism2 @sakiimeo @ohmyfinggod @k-hrtz @scarafrisbee @kaoyamamegami @liliumaraneae @dreamsofminnie @starfart19 @kunisbeloved @luhvashh @makiswrld @kyouzki @mimissubway @rmiyuki @theblueblub @patata52 @vixiesposts @thenightsflower @coquettemaiden @thefandomcrow @cotton-eee
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what happens when you, a talented and well-known drummer across the web, grow an intense crush for the student council president, who's also your number one fan? from annoying sisters to nosy bandmates, the next event that happens is always more chaotic than the last!
© kisscara
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tw1l1te · 2 months
Text
The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹
Chapter 11
Linked Universe x reader
Warnings: Angst, some gore and violence, unrequited love??
₊˚✩⊹
“Skyloft is gorgeous at night, Sky. I can see why it’s hard to leave.”
He hummed, fiddling with the fraying hem of his shirt. You frowned. He usually loves staying up to look at the night sky, he dragged you out tonight, even.
“What’s on your mind, Sky?”
He finally looks at you, for the first time since you both sat down on the wooden platform. His eyes reflect the night sky, as if his eyes were mirrors.
“You… know how the whole prophecy work’s? Hero’s purpose?” you nod, curious to see where this was going.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot. My role, Zel-Sun’s role. I’m questioning the fact of whether or not I want it. Not the journey itself, as I finished it and didn’t have a choice, no, more so the aftermath.”
You frown again, “What do you mean? If this is about the thing I said about Hylia having questionable morals-”
He shakes his head, looking out onto the expanse of the clouds.
“I’m talking about the fact of me and Zelda being destined to be together, essentially.”
Oh.
This topic stung a bit, you weren’t going to lie. You’ve started feeling attraction towards the older members of the group the past few months, a couple months after your initial arrival. You didn’t think the topic would come up or that you would even gain such feelings of your companions, but the universe never works that way. 
“I mean… I guess it’s kind of implied you two get together, experiencing the journey together and all. It would make sense if you two ended up together, usually traumatic events or life-changing ones can bring you closer to the person you experienced it with.”
“That’s the thing, isn’t it? I’m supposed to be in love with her, Sun. And trust me, for several years, I thought I did. Then you came along.” He fixates on you, eyes searching yours.
“You opened up a whole new perspective for me, about myself and the role I play in this lifetime, this era, and beyond. That I’m more than a hero and the Chosen One. That I am my own person.”
You smile, “Of course you are, every single one of you is.”
He gives you a small smile, inching his hand towards yours.
“Y/n, I… I want yo-”
You quickly press your fingers to his lips. 
“No. Sky, don’t do this. Don’t do this for me. Don’t do this because I’ve been through the journey with you.”
His eyebrows furrowed slightly, “I’m doing this for me. For us. I’m choosing my own fate for once, and I want you.”
You shake your head “Sky, no. Anyone but me. I don’t want you to say you want me or love me because you feel obligated to challenge your destiny. I want you to say it from a place where you want me for me, not to prove someone or something wrong.”
You go up to leave, but Sky grabs your hand, “I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll prove to you that you're more than an anomaly to my destiny.”
~
You groan, your head pounding. You were laying on a cold, rocky surface, but that’s all you could sense for now. Your ears were ringing, your eyes blurry and fogged up.
What happened?
“Finally! Our guest has woken up.”
Before you could open your eyes, you felt someone pick you up, tossing you over their shoulder. You were carried for what felt like eons before you were tossed onto a chair, feeling your limbs get tied up with rough, thick rope. You could already feel your wrists and ankles getting their blood circulation cut off.
“Now, why don’t you start by telling us why you’re here, guide?” A voice asked.
You scoffed, “Why I’m here?? You’’re the fuckers that knocked me out and brought me-” A loud slap reverbrated through the room, your face stinging with aftershock.
“There’s no need for such… language. I’ll ask you again: Why are you here?”
You shift in the chair, its old, splintered wood echoing off the walls.
“Why is that any of your business? I’m not bothering any of you nor causing any trouble, so why are you so interested all of a sudden, huh?” you demanded, trying to mask your fear.
The clan member crouches in front of you, their broad shoulders and tall stature blocking your view of the room.
“Because you’re the one who has somehow involved us in your escapade. Something related with those friends of yours and the fabled hero.”
“What could they possibly have that you would want?”
“That’s where your understanding is misconstrued, little one. It has little to do with your companions, more so to do with the friends that they brought here… and I think you know just exactly who I’m talking about.”
You avoid eye contact. The clan member hums.
“See, a few days prior to your arrival, a little group invaded our hideout. Quite… gruesomely, if I may put it that way. They were looking for you, of course. They wore their measly robes, quite unoriginal if I may say so myself. But I suppose it did the job of concealing their identities, as I didn’t even come close to uncovering their faces.”
Where was he going with this??
“So I made a deal, a bargain. A life for a life. They spare me, I give them you.”
“So you waited for the perfect opportunity to kidnap me to give me to a group of people that you’ve never seen, much less know their motives?”
He seems to halt his thought at your comment.
“I’m smarter than I look, Y/n. I knew exactly what their motives were.”
“So do they or do they not want to kill me? You’re not making any damn sense.”
“Kill you? Why, I never said that. No…. they’re more fascinated by you, to put it lightly, though their reasons are of no ‘light’ manner. Regardless of what they want with you, my duty is done. You are right where I want you to be, and they should be here to collect you whenever they please. It was a pleasure meeting my sacrifice.” 
He leaves, footsteps echoing throughout the corridors. Now that you got a proper look around, the hideout seemed… bigger, darker.
Did it expand?
Why is everything seemingly different to when you last played? Surely there wasn’t something you were too blind to see.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts with footsteps, the footfalls slow but determined. Looking up, you see the main subject of your recent conversation.
Based on their stature, they seemed average height, an inch or two taller. Their face was still concealed in shadow, so not much was given away in features. Their breathing seemed haggard, as if they ran for miles. 
“....”
“...What do you want from me?”
The figure doesn’t move for a second. You could feel their eyes piercing your very soul, it made the hairs on your neck stand up. Whatever or whoever this was, it was freaking you out more on the inside than you outwardly showed. Fear was a motivator for a lot of people, and you weren’t going to let them get that satisfaction.
They sat down in front of you, on their knees, hands on their knees, head still tilted at you. Their hands were dirty, rough from the terrain and lack of hygiene. They had gloves on, the fingers free from leather binds. 
They released another haggard breath. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” the figure spoke, voice cracking mid-sentence. They sounded like they were on the brink of tears.
“Who are you? Why are you sorry?” you asked, needing answers.
Instead of answering your questions, they cautiously brought on of their hands toward your face, as if they were touching the most expensive artifact. They grasped onto a stray lock of your hair, twisting and curling it around the tip of their finger, examining it. They tucked the lock behind your ear, brushing the shell of it before placing that hand on your cheek. 
In a different situation you would’ve been disgusted by the dirty contact, but you were fearing for your life at the moment.
“It’s been so long.”
You squint your eyes, trying to take in the context of the statement. 
“I promised I’d be there for you… and I broke that promise, your trust. The others… aren’t the same. We-”
A shout echoes through the chamber, a familiar voice ringing in your ear. Without a second’s hesitation, you yell “LINK!”
The hooded figure seems startled, jumping away from your grasp. They scramble to get up, taking one last look before running off into the shadows.
Within seconds, Wars runs in, looking extremely shaken up. He slides up to you on his knees, giving out almost as soon as he sees the state you were in. Bruised and bloodied, a sight that will haunt him until the end of his days.
“Y/n, hey hey. You’re ok, we’re here. Everyone’s here, you’re alright.” he mumbles into your hair, the same palace that figure was touching you moments ago. He kisses you on the forehead, too caught up in anxiety to process the physical affection towards you.
“Link… I… fuck, get me out of these.” 
Without a word, he starts undoing the thick knots of rope, wondering who in the world managed to tie you up so efficiently. If this was under other circumstances, he would’ve been impressed. He winced when he untied your wrists and ankles, the rope burns rubbing your skin dry and bloody. A reminder of how careless they all were.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/n. If I had gone with you, or someone else was with you and didn’t leave you alone-”
You placed a hand on his shoulder, “It’s not your fault, Link. No one foresaw this coming. I don’t blame you, Wild, or any of the others.”
He nods, but his mind is elsewhere. He picks you up, just like he did a few weeks ago, being mindful of your ankle and wrist burns. He’ll make sure Hyrule tends to those as soon as everyone leaves the hideout.
He quickly walks out of the room, your head spinning. You close your eyes and lean against him, suddenly feeling the nausea wash over you like a wave. 
“Almost there, Sunshine. Almost there.”
You start to hear the yelling of the rest of the group, metal clanging against metal, arrows flying past you. You could hear Four yelling to Twilight about a potion, Hyrule yelling about needing more arrows, Time shouting orders.
You don’t know how Wars managed to sneak you out amidst all the commotion, him setting you outside the hideout, resting you against the rocky entrance. He unwrapped his infamous scarf, placing it around you for some sense of comfort.
“I’m gonna go get Hyrule, ok? I don’t have any potions on me that’ll be of use to you. Can you stay awake for me, Sunshine? Just till Rulie fixes you, ok?” you somehow manage a nod, already slipping into unconsciousness. 
You feel tapping on your face, causing your eyes to open again, “Hey, hey. Need your eyes open for me ok? Need you awake, baby. I’ll be right back, ok? Stay awake.” Wars sprints off, leaving you. You really try to stay awake, but you can feel the pull of sleep tantalizing you, taking over your senses. 
You slip away into unconsciousness as you hear Hyrule and Wars run up to you, shouting your name.
₊˚✩⊹
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tennessoui · 10 months
Text
democratic fic part one
here she is!!!! as a quick refresh, i posted a poll of fic prompts and asked everyone to vote as to which one i would write. the prompt that won (by a pretty narrow margin) is "GFFA universe, reverse age, Sith apprentice Obi-Wan and Senator Anakin". this is ~3k to set everything up, and i'll post two polls later today that will guide the next part of the fic! i'll pin a post with links to all ficlets and polls to my front page for the time the story runs, so people can find things easily - please enjoy and, when the polls are up, please vote!!!
(3k)
The chancellor’s secretary types every letter of every word with deliberate intent, methodical and precise. Each time her finger hits a key, a loud clunk reverberates around the quiet front office.
Anakin is sure that the secretary tampered with it somehow to make it so loud. He has no idea as to why a person would do such a thing, but she had to have.
Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk.
Anakin hadn’t slept well last night. He’s been nursing the beginnings of a headache since dawn, and it’s only gotten worse as the day drags on. All of his kindness and patience was spent before he even stepped foot into the Senate building, and the chancellor’s secretary is currently dancing on his last nerve with each kriffing clunk of her type-writer.
The air around him—the Force—warps and shivers. Anakin’s headache blooms into itself properly, and he gives into the urge to rub at his temples with one hand. Of all the days for the Chancellor to request his presence for afternoon lunch, it had to be this one, when all Anakin actually wants to do is find a dark area and lie down. 
The Force trembles again, reverbrating around the small waiting room with such intensity that Anakin straightens, skin crawling. It’s like the Force is screaming at him in a language he doesn’t speak. 
He’s on edge, but he doesn’t know why. 
Stars, he doesn’t need a fancy lunch with the chancellor. He needs a dark room to take cover in and Force-suppression cuffs locked on his wrists so he can focus on something other than nebulous, useless warnings.
And he needs this blasted headache to subside, or someone’s going to—
“Excuse me,” a soft voice breaks the stillness of the room, and—miracle upon miracles—makes the clunk of the type-writer halt. “Is this the Chancellor’s office?”
The Force rings one final time and then goes quiet, like it’s disappeared all together.
“Yes,” the secretary tells the newcomer. “But he’s currently in a meeting. Do you have an appointment?”
Anakin closes his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him. It’s not a posture befitting that of a Senator of his stature or age, but he’s weary down to his bones.
“I don’t, no,” the soft voice says, something like amusement curling around the syllables. There’s the rustle of fabric, and then the quiet sound of fingers tapping against the edge of the secretary’s desk. “Actually, I believe my grandfather is currenttly meeting with him. I was asked to join at the end to introduce myself. What benefit the Chancellor will receive by meeting a failed Jedi and boy from Serenno, I hardly know, but my grandfather is an ambitious man. At least when it comes to his grandson.” The speaker lets out a small laugh, more breath than sound. It makes the secretary giggle. 
Anakin hadn’t known they were capable of making that sound. She hasn't so much as smiled at Anakin before, and he sees her several times a week.
He rolls his head to the side and opens his eyes a crack to look at the newcomer.
Ah.
Well, that explains the giggle.
There’s a boy leaning against the secretary’s desk, head tilted as he dimples down at her. He’s tucked a piece of his auburn hair behind his ear so that his profile is unobstructed to Anakin’s gaze. More of the strands cascade to his shoulder, shining red-gold in the light of the waiting room. His eyes are a pale blue, his skin pale as well. His nose is narrow and proud, but it’s his smile that’s most mesmerizing. That or the twinkling of gold jewelry wrapped through his hair, dangling from his ear and neck. Gold powder is smeared across his eyelids and over his cheeks.
Whatever he may say, the boy does not look like just a boy from Serenno. And he certainly looks as far from a Jedi as it’s possible to be. 
Poor girl, Anakin thinks with a slight smirk of his own as he lets his eyes fall closed again. If he were ten years younger and the boy was staring at him like that, he thinks he’d be similarly affected.
“May I have your name?” the secretary asks. “I’ll comm the Chancellor.”
“Oh, thank you,” the boy murmurs. “That would be quite superb.”
Superb. Honestly.
“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he adds. “My grandfather is Count Dooku.”
“Yavi,” the secretary gives her own name, even though Kenobi had not asked. She sounds incredibly winded.
“Pleasure,” Kenobi tells her; there’s a slight shift in his tone, its volume, like he’s turned his head. The Force trembles. “I’ll wait here. Do me a favor though: if they sound like they’re still talking about tax exemptions and resource management for Serenno, spare me, please. I’d rather sit out here with the lovely company than in there listening to two old men arguing about water law.”
The secretary giggles once more and resumes typing, this time probably typing out the comm number of the Chancellor.
Soft steps signal that Kenobi has taken his leave of the secretary. 
Fabric whispers as the air shifts slightly and the boy settles into the seat next to him. 
Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk.
“I was including you when I spoke of the lovely company in this room, sir,” the boy says softly, just for him.
“Do you always flirt with everyone you meet?” he asks, stubborn enough to keep still and not engage the boy, arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed. He is tired. His head hurts.
Though—the headache has lessened, actually now that he’s thinking about it. It feels like half the pressure around his mind has disappeared.
The boy breathes out a laugh and shifts. “Senator, do you always assume everyone is flirting with you?”
“You called me lovely,” Anakin points out rather roughly. Lovely. He can’t think of the last time anyone has called him that.
He is a man of forty years with more wrinkles on his face than laughter lines. He is a senator that is feared in the Chambers. His temper and incredibly high standards ensure that he cannot keep an assistant for more than a few months.
Lovely.
“You are incredibly bright in the Force,” Kenobi says. “It is almost blinding, but…pleasant to brush against.”
As if to illustrate his point in the physical plane, his sleeve whispers against the bare skin of Anakin’s bicep as he moves slightly.
“It is lovely,” the boy finishes. A moment passes, and Anakin can hear the smile in his voice. “And besides, I never flirt with someone whose eyes I cannot see.”
Anakin turns his head to look incredulously at Kenobi, realizing a beat too late that in doing so, he has opened his eyes and engaged the boy.
Up close, Kenobi’s smile is boyish and disarming and devastating.
“Hello there,” Kenobi says, two deep dimples framing the curve of his lips. “My name is Obi-Wan. I would have yours, Senator.”
Anakin’s mouth is opening, tongue moving almost against his will. Certainly not with conscious thought. “Anakin Skywalker.”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan repeats. “It’s lovely to meet you.” He holds out his hand, pale and elegant, slightly limp as if he requires Anakin’s help in holding it up.
Anakin is going to reply, mouth already open to once more protest the adjective even as he reaches out to take his hand, but the sound of a door sliding open interrupts him.
In the blink of an eye, Kenobi is on his feet, hands falling behind his back and pale blue sleeves engulfing that delicate skin. Anakin turns to look as well and rises to his feet at the sight of the Chancellor.
He is a good head taller than Kenobi, he notices and then dismisses the thought just as quickly as it occurred to him.
“Chancellor,” Kenobi murmurs respectfully, dropping into a deep bow. Anakin cannot remember the last time he bowed before the Chancellor, but then Palpatine has been his friend and mentor figure since he first donned the robes of a Senatorial aide. They are past empty shows of respect.
“This must be your grandson, Count Dooku,” Palpatine says, approaching Kenobi and holding out the back of his hand in a pantomime of the same gesture Kenobi had just shown Anakin.
Kenobi brushes his lips against the back of his hand before straightening.
“Well-trained,” Palpatine remarks, an odd, appraising tone note coloring his tone. “I understand there is no blood relation between you two?”
“No, Chancellor,” a white-haired man replies, slipping out from the Chancellor’s shadow to stand at the midway point between Kenobi and Palpatine. He looks stern, Anakin thinks. His lips have turned down into a frown naturally, accentuating the wrinkles around his mouth. His eyes move over Kenobi in a way Anakin can only call disinterested, detached. “Adopted.”
“What generosity,” Palpatine murmurs, tucking his hands into the balloonish sleeves of his robes. “How many years have you been living with the Count, Obi-Wan?”
“Ten years, sir,” Kenobi replies easily. “He adopted me when I was thirteen.”
“Ah,” Palpatine says. His voice is silky. “If I am not mistaken, thirteen is the age that Jedi Initiates are asked to leave the Temple if no Jedi Master has requested to take them as their padawan, yes?”
The muscles in Obi-Wan’s back tense and shift. “That’s correct, sir. I was on Bandomeer working in the Agricorps when Count Dooku found me.”
“If only he had expressed interest in training you sooner, when he was a Jedi Master and you an Initiate!” Palpatine remarks, tilting his head.
“You must be mistaken, sir,” Obi-Wan replies, sounding rather sheepish, as if he cannot believe his own gall at correcting the Chancellor of the Republic. “Count Dooku is not training me at all. Our relationship could not be further from that of a Jedi Master and Padawan.”
Palpatine’s eyes flash with something unreadable. “But of course,” he finally murmurs. “I was only referring to your Court education. I apologize if my wording…pressed against a bruise.”
The Count clears his throat with a smile. It looks like it pains him. “No harm has come to myself or my grandson. There is no need for an apology, Chancellor.”
Anakin shifts and thinks of interrupting. The conversation is awkward, simmering with some emotion that Anakin cannot place. His headache is back in full-force.
“Your generosity knows no bounds, Count. How long will you be on Coruscant during this visit?” The Chancellor asks, turning his head to look at the Count.
“That depends on my grandson, your Excellency,” Dooku tilts his head, and Obi-Wan shifts and then smiles.
“I requested this trip, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan says. “It has been a decade since I last stepped foot on Coruscant, and I found that I missed it. Though I feel as if I have been rather rudely confronted by the reality that I may never have known the real Coruscant—after all, I lived in the Jedi Temple. Markedly different from the rest of the planet, I fear.”
“Ah,” the Chancellor replies. “So this is a trip fueled by nostalgia. How excellent.”
“Obi-Wan has his sights set on politics,” Dooku adds wiith a slight roll of his eyes. “Do not let him fool you. We’ve rented an apartment a sector away from the season. He is hoping to find a temporary placement within the Senate.”
“Oh?” The Chancellor says. “How…ambitious. Do you have your eye on any senator specifically? I believe both from Serenno have aides already.”
“I am Stewjoni by birth,” Obi-Wan says. “Their coalition in the Senate is powerful, and I believe Senator Aaerul is in want of an aide. If I cannot entice him into taking me, I will look elsewhere.”
For the first time since the Chancellor arrived, Obi-Wan tilts his head in Anakin’s direction, flashing his blue eyes and deep dimples.
“Perhaps Senator Skywalker would be willing to take me,” he purrs.
Anakin is, of course, aghast at the boy’s brazenness. “Unfortunately, I am not currently in need of an aide. Perhaps Senator Bail Organa, from Alderaan.”
Kenobi’s smile slips seamlessly into a small pout. “That is unfortunate,” he agrees with a sigh.
Palpatine’s eyes narrow as he glances between them. “Yes, I believe Senator Aaerul would be a worthwhile placement, young one. And I wish you all the best. Now—”
“Senator,” Obi-Wan says, eyes focused on Anakin’s face with such intensity that Anakin must look back at him. “How long have you lived on Coruscant?”
Anakin blinks. “Twenty-five years.”
“Would you say you know the planet well?” The boy’s head tilts, his hair a waterfall of golden autumn as it spills over against his shoulder. 
“Yes, I suppose,” Anakin replies, tearing his eyes away from his hair to focus on his face.
“I am sure you are a busy man, Senator, but I would be quite obliged if you would accompany me around the sector. If you had the time. Perhaps on a day without a Senate assembly?”
Anakin can feel his eyebrows raise. “I would be terrible company.”
“We have been over this,” Obi-Wan’s eyes become slits with the force of his smile. “I think you are lovely.”
“I—” Anakin swallows and tucks his hands behind his back. His eyes dart to look over at the two older men, both of whom are watching carefully with great interest. He does not want to engage this fae of a boy, unsure where that could lead, where it would end. 
But the idea of rejecting him once again in front of his grandfather and the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic makes Anakin feel rather…uncomfortable. He is not a heartless man. 
He sighs, barely even noticing that his headache has faded to almost nothing. Perhaps it’s that release from pain that makes him give in. Perhaps he is just weak to a pair of earnest blue eyes.
“I…will see if there is time in my schedule,” he says, and Obi-Wan beams at him.
Lovely, the word echoes in his mind, though it is surely not Anakin who has thought it…probably.
“Thank you, Senator,” he murmurs, hands clasping in front of his chest. “I will give you my comm sequence, you’ll let me know when you have time?” 
“Yes,” Anakin agrees grudgingly. “That is what I’ve said.” He slips his comm from his tunics and presents it to Kenobi. The boy takes it with another smile and enters his comm sequence with a flourish. 
“Brilliant,” Obi-Wan says, passing it back. “I look forward to it.” 
“Obi-Wan, we should take our leave,” Dooku says before Anakin can respond. “I believe the senator is overdue for lunch with the Chancellor.” 
“Thank you,” Anakin dips his head automatically. He has, after all, been waiting for over an hour.
“Oh, apologies, my dear boy,” the Chancellor says, sounding startled. He lays a hand over Anakin’s arm. Anakin barely contains the urge to raise his eyebrows. The Chancellor has not called him dear boy since he turned thirty. “I did not even notice the time. We were too engaged upon tax exemptions on Serenno.”
Without conscious thought, Anakin’s eyes dart to Obi-Wan. The boy gives him a wink and a small smirk. Unbidden and to his utmost surprise, Anakin feels a responding smile twitch at the corner of his own lips.
“Chancellor, it was a pleasure to meet you,” the boy bows once more to Palpatine before he moves to the side, allowing Dooku to brush past him. “Anakin, I look forward to your comm.”
The gall of the boy. It’s almost impressive how brazen he is.
 The pair take their leave, Obi-Wan throwing one more smile over his shoulder at Anakin, as if he cannot help himself.
The waiting room is still and quiet for several long moments in their absence. Anakin feels sort of like he’s been bludgeoned over the head.
“Senator, please,” Palpatine recovers first, a thoughtful look on his face as he gestures for Anakin to follow him into his office. “I feel there is much to discuss.”
Anakin cannot help himself from looking back at the door Kenobi has just left through, though logically he knows that no one will be there to catch his glance. 
The only thing that greets him is the dour expression on Palpatine’s secretary’s face and the sound of her fingers on the keyboard as she resumes typing.
Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk.
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alviy4n · 3 months
Text
" i love you and your whole being baji keisuke. "
you caressed his face then tugged at his hair lightly. " i love you so much my heart aches whenever you go out with your friends. whenever you go and beat up whatever gang you're dealing with, it pains me that i can't be inside your skin. my heart screams at the mere thought of you loving someone before me because that means you offered yourself to THEM before me. " you glared at him then pouted " are you weirded out? im sorry. it's the first time someone offered themselves to me in their knees begging me to come back to them again that i hold of you with a chain and hands in your neck. im sorry kei that you have such an obsessive and a loser girlfriend. " you looked at the floor. your hand leaving his hair and falling back to your lap.
keisuke on the other hand looked at you mouth agape and clearly shocked. it's your first time putting your defenses down. it was the first time you've let go of the ' tough girl ' act so his hands at your neck.
" keisuke don't let go. please you can squeeze it and get the life out of me and i'd thank you in the afterlife for putting that much effort in me. "
he doesn't know what to say. he doesn't know what to do or what to say. what was he supposed to say to a person who's already broken? can he help and mend you to the way you'd like? he knows you don't want people to fix you because you are born with this sadness. to the mother of your mother's mother to your grandmother to your mother. this kind of loneliness and pain was something that a meek boy like him can't fix or help. his thoughts were cut off by the squeaking of your bunny reminding you to give some attention to her too because she was hungry. you nod and your usual cool and composed self came back. i'll never get tired of being amazed how you can switch to emotions to emotions like you do. he thought while he eqtch you prepare hay and give it to the rabbit.
" y/n you know that kind of loneliness is something i can't fix. i can only be with you until the end until you can learn how to live with it. " he said. his left hand running through his hair as his right hand remained at the seat you left. it's what y/n should need to hear. she needs to hear this and stop depending on me becuase it will be nothing but pain when i do my plan on the halloween. he reassures himself as you stopped playing with your rabbit.
" shut up baji. i don't need to hear that from you. " you snapped. your vulnerableoment long gone from your memory as you stand up. now it your turn to glare at him. " if you want to say hurtful things then leave baji! i don't need you to repeat what my mind says to me on a daily basis! " you were sure that your voice reached even on the street near you.
it was not long until you ran to him and huggged his sitting figure. " im sorry i don'f even know i'd say those things to you my love! im sorry! " you said. your head resting on his lap as your cries and sniffle reverbrated in your room. he was not fpreign to this outbursts of yours. he knew what he said and he mean every single word. you need to hear this for the umpteenth time in your short 7 months of relationship with him
" y/n i love you, but please refrain from saying things you will regret. " he says as he just runs his hand on your head. he loves you but he can't take this possessive side of yours. he needs to end this. but not right now.
a/n: drunk jmi again here. lmfao enjoy this is a post from an exaggerated memory of me and my ex polar hehe love u still and i always will my baby.
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piglin-pursuits · 3 months
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thinking of technoblade and instruments and music. in the nether theres probably a lot of heavier beat-based music; stringed instruments need room to vibrate and echo which is why you cant leave a guitar in the heat because it will warp the wood. stringed instruments, with their need to reverbrate, would eitehr half to be made of strong would that would muffle the vibrations, or would have to be played in caves with GREAT acoustics and would still not be as effective.
But drums? Percussion instruments? i'd imagine theyd do very well. perhaps not optimally, as heat will still warp a drum, but it would last a hell of a lot longer and be much louder.
Bands of piglins playing music in their crumbling bastions, celebrating life and continued survival, birth and deaths and passage into adulthood, just... celebrating. being happy.
and then comes baby technoblade. a little guy, raised as normally as possible, up until he starts to hear the blood god, and is taken away so the rest of the bastion cant be hurt as he learns. There is no more music as he fights, nothing except the beating of his heart and blood rushing in his veins. The comforting thump of his heartbeat is the only music he has, but that metronome is steady. So when he makes it to the overworld he can thump out broken songs from his bastion, changing them as he remembers and loses little pieces of it until he has his bastion song for one.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 months
Note
There's more flavours on mountain dew?
Mountain Dew has had a ton of limited time flavors.
But Mango Heat was not a mere flavor. It was an experience.
Picture it, Versailles KY, 2017. It's a Friday. You walk to work and on your way you stop in the gas station for some caffeine.
Then you see it for the first time. The amber-orange Mango Heat Mountain Dew.
You think to yourself that it's a weird combo for the drink. You won't like it. You buy one anyway.
As you continue on the the physically demanding drudgery that is the hell of a 9 buck an hour factory job at Yokohama you crack it open.
Instantly your tastebuds are met with the divine riot of flavors that combine into what mere mortals' limited vocabulary can only describe as "Mango Heat".
The flavor is sunny. The peppery undertones promise adventure while simultaneously fulfilling that promise for your tongue.
Your lips tingle with spice and a desire for more as caffeine reverbrates through your brain.
After you walk home from your 10hr shift you are exhausted. But it is Friday. And your roommate is your bestie. You can't just sleep.
But you need fuel to stay up and play games and make fun of bad movies. You need snacks.
Then you remember. Mango. Heat.
You tell your friend of this glorious nectar of the gods and so at 1:30 in the am you march on through the night across town to the 24/7 Circle K that housed the spicy beverage.
On the way you sing a perfect duet of the song "Tribute" by Tenacious D, followed by making loud moany orgasm noises as you pass by a residential area to embarrass your friend.
You get to the gas station and share what is one of the two greatest drinks of all time. You take your treasure back home and play games while eating chips and getting hyped up on caffeine.
That is Mango Heat. And when you drink it years later you don't just taste the exquisite interplay of sweet and spicy, but you taste the memories.
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chocogi · 1 year
Text
Alchemist’s Assistant pt2 here
In which I got bored and forced Albedo to find a Skychild in Dragonspine
Albedo sighs, the wind whipping through his ashy blond locks. He tugs his coat closer by habit; he does not feel the cold.
He ducks into Starglow Cavern to avoid the snowstorm, before looking around absentmindedly for mint samples. There was something he needed to confirm, and he wanted to brew mint tea, or maybe make mint jelly as well, to indulge in.
He hums quietly, pulling out the mint stalks from the snow-covered ground and whisking them away to a small pocket dimension where he kept his weapon.
It’s.. peaceful here today, Albedo thought. Too peaceful. Has something happened? The alchemist sighs, his breath puffing into mist in the cold air.
Starglow Cavern was quiet today. Too quiet.
Shivering by the strange ice shard at the bottom of the cavern, The skychild stayed curled up by one of the red seelie’s court, cursing at its luck. One last time, it built up its energy to amplify its voice, and it let out a fully charged call.
Honk!
The call reverbrates through the cavern, but soon fades. It whimpers, scooting closer to the seelie court. Out of the fourteen wing charges its cloak can store, it only had six left.
The skychild doubts it can stretch those wing charges to get itself all the way to the entrance of the cavern. Especially not with it wearing the Chibi Mask that the Hide and Seek spirit gifted them.
The fur collar sown on its inner shirt can only do so much as to keep it warm.
The call echoes through the spacious cavern, and Albedo suppresses a flinch. What was that?
Summoning a sword with a gold handguard and blue highlights on both the hilt and the blade itself, Albedo starts to trek downwards, to where the call has originated.
The sword— Cinnabar Spindle— glinted under the light reflected by the snow.
The snow crunches underneath Albedo’s feet.
He wonders what’s down there. Was the call the reason why there’s no monsters here today?
The snowstorm rages behind him.
The small skychild shiver by the seelie court, flinching harshly when it hears something akin to a surprised hum. It scrambles away from the seelie court— immediately mourning the loss of the bit of warmth— with a shriek, mindlessly using the last six wing charges in a quick burst to propel itself to the top of the strange ice shard.
It whines, pained, from the sudden cold.
The source of the sound— a young man with ashen blond hair, a star on his throat and wearing a white, customized lab coat— looked surprised for a second, before he settled back to a calm face.
He steps closer. The snow crunches under his boots. The child scoots back ever-so-slightly.
He goes closer, till he’s by the base of the ice shard and it can’t back away unless it wants to wfall.
“Hello there..” He cooes gently. “I am Albedo. May I know your name?”
It does not answer, in a mixture of fear and confusion.
“Come on, let’s get you down from there…” Albedo mutters, purposefully using slow movements as he tries to reach up to it. “Come on, little thing, slide down to me. Why are you here?” He tries, but it whimpers and curls into a ball, afraid. Albedo does not look like its kin.
Albedo sighs, his breath clouding over in the cold. He backs away before using his elemental skill, placing a Solar Isotoma at the base of the ice shard. He steps on the Isotoma and it pulses, before it rises, carrying Albedo along. The skychild shrieks and instinctually move away, but Albedo refuses to be discouraged.
He extends his hand to it.
“Don’t be afraid, little thing. I won’t hurt you.”
Albedo cooes at the fearful child gently, patiently holding out his palm, waiting for it to take his hand.
“Come here.” It hesitates.
Albedo smiles, and summons a white, thin twig from Khemia, earning himself a gasp from the cloaked youth, as it scoots closer to touch it.
Its pale fingertips brush the fragile leaf by the tip of the twig, and its eyes widen as the twig starts to fade into chalk.
It scrambles to his hand, trying to cup its hands around the dissolving twig but when it peeks back in, the twig is nothing but chalk coating its hands. The child visibly wilts.
He chuckles, patting its head and summoning another twig. The skychilds perks up, letting out little squeaks and calls as it tries to keep it from disintegrating.
Albedo smiles at the enigma before him, before extending his hand closer to it again. And immediately, its filled with the hesitation it had from before.
But it takes his hand.
And Albedo waits by the entrance of Starglow Cavern, by a fire, waiting for the snowstorm to end with a buzzing, warm skychild on his lap.
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sixofcrowsxzoya · 10 months
Text
kanej rant bc i felt likt it and what else do i have to do
every touch would ahve meaning. every. single. touch. even when people think it doesnt, like (jsut casual-gang-people thing) they both feel it reverbrating inside their souls, how lucky they are to have this.
inej would slowly start visiting more and more and eventually (like whar 35-ish) she'll jsut stay. wylan and jesper figure that smth musthave happened, but its not until she comes to stay at their mansion do they actually realise the ring. the. ring. jesper is secretly mad about not best-manning and stuff, but inej comments that they havent had a proper ceremony yet. and one day kaz asks jesper njfekojmerflz and . kaz thinks abput getting married in a church but she smiles and tells him that she could never have a man of so little faith say vows in a holy place. so its on a ship. nina visits. kaz- during his vows- jsut says 'its always been you, 'nej.' and ofc he wouldnt sdo proper vows theyve already told each otehr how much they loved eachoth, etc. etc. and they kiss shyly. first public kiss EVER. though they can kiss in private, its been a lot of time- but still yk. wow this is incoherent
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